#so heres my tag recap before I do that
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Therapy is going to be so hard until I learn how to be less avoidant. I'm never going to get to the talking about my SA shit if I keep going into therapy with stupid happy brain. Yeayeayea whatever "I'm so capable of so many things and my life is going well" shut up we have problems though. (Said truly like someone who switched in as therapy was ending but needs it the most)
#@.@#I'm going to sleep now and nothing that happened this session is going to sink in at all#so heres my tag recap before I do that#basically he said that I can count on myself to always breathe and walk reliably and hold a job and thats important#and we talked about how I was bad at everything once. i was a baby who didnt know what letters were and now I have a poetry book#so I'm capable of everything or whatever#and how like. because I know I have been able to hold my job so far I can have confidence that I can come in to work and manage the day#or whatever idk I'm so sleepy
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it is so hard for me not to post every single thought i have on here the moment i have it
#if you think i post a lot (i do) you should see my drafts alkdsfj#A RECAP: i loaded in cori's mom and dad earlier and it made me so sad i was on the brink of retconning cori's entire bg so#that their dad is still alive :(#i did zot as gnb and it was going so well i was about to compliment urianger on here and then he let me die twice to the mob right before#the final boss. rude. also estinien is the only one who actually follows me when i keep running lol#i dont think bard is going to be canon for cori but the deepshadow crossbow IS and i think they would use their aetherotransformer with it#like they do with their multitool/automated crossbow#also im thinking about giving cori back their summoning ability before DT bc im impatient and i feel bad for them :(#but i want them to be primarily mch for DT. but im tired of making them suffer its been almost a YEAR (for me) i want them to be happy agai#and now im going to go take a shower and hopefully write a little bit before i go to bed. BEFORE MIDNIGHT#okay. im free. sorry to everyone who followed me for that corishtola photoset and now have to deal with me akdjfa#i need a text post tag
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when i tell you the whiplash i got
#leave my trash streamer youtuber alone <3#ludwig#big joel#ok but if you allow me to comment on this#there's hardly any 'algorithm' work you have to do#when you're already securing the first thousand views by making a huge streamer react to your video#and you could only do it because you know this streamer does reddit recaps AND it's a video essay about them#so like. do all small youtubers have to create a bait video essay of a popular streamer before doing any other content?#like when you see what he does it's like 'well duh'. but it's not sustainable for any other youtube channel#EVEN if he never mentioned the yt channel in the yard or whatever. it's a flawed premise from its very conception#i would've liked a video about that instead but oh well#tag rant over#nvm here's more tags#i love the comments saying 'talk about jerma next'#also the other day i saw like. the most specific meme on instagram about ludwig#talking about trash youtubers who react to unusual memes videos and button speed dating episodes#i scrolled down the comments and liked every single one tagging ludwig
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talk | op81
summary: oscar loves to talk your ear off.
word count: 1,276
masterlist — join my tag list here!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
everyone who had told you that oscar piastri wasn’t much of a talker was a bold-faced liar.
that, or maybe they just never got to see that side of him.
before you started dating oscar, you totally believed it. the first few interactions the two of you had were awkward and brief, usually ending in you thinking that he actually hated you and only engaged in small talk to be nice.
the oscar you know now is nothing like the oscar you first met, and even though you’ve been with him for the better part of two years, his ability to talk for hours is still as shocking to you as it was in the beginning.
it started out innocently enough. the first time you hadn’t been able to attend a race, oscar called you the moment he was back in his hotel room. you’d only been dating for five months at that point, and you vividly remember your shock when you accepted the facetime call and he started talking at a mile a minute. you’d barely gotten out a “hello” before he started recapping his entire day in precise detail. he didn’t even stop to take a drink of water in his enthusiasm.
that turned into the two of you developing a routine. every time you couldn’t make it to a race, oscar would call you at the end of the day and tell you everything he’d been dying to tell you.
“you could text me some of this stuff, you know,” you told him once, and he had wrinkled his nose cutely.
“why would i text it to you when i can just tell you about it on the phone?” he’d responded, like your suggestion was completely outlandish.
it’s endearing, really, the way he’s always so excited every time you pick up the phone. like he is right now.
“hi, honey!” he says brightly the moment the call connects and you can see each other’s faces.
“hey, oz,” you smile, your mood immediately lifting at the sound of his voice. “how was your day?”
“oh, i have so much to tell you,” he leans forward, his hair obscuring the camera for a moment before he leans back with a piece of paper in his hand.
“what is that?” you ask, watching as he unfolds it.
“this, my love, is my list.” he says, turning it around so you can see the way the page is full of his writing, not only on the lines but in the margins, too. “if i can read my own handwriting.”
“busy day?” you pull the hood of your sweatshirt further over your head so it covers more of your screen.
“you have no idea. i don’t even know where to start.” he sighs, eyes scanning the paper before he looks back up at the camera. “but i want to hear about your day first.”
“ah, it was okay. boring. i got so used to traveling around with you that i don’t know what to do now that i’m home all by myself.” it’s a lie, of course.
you wouldn’t miss oscar’s birthday for the world, and that was why you’d been so believable when you told him that you were so sorry, but you couldn’t make it to japan for the next race. even thinking about not being with him for his birthday was enough to upset you, so he bought it easily. conspiring with mark and lando, you’d gotten your hands on a plane ticket and formed a plan to get to the hotel with oscar being none the wiser.
which is how you’re here, at the end of the hallway on his hotel floor, waiting for the perfect time to interject.
“oh, i have to tell you about how free practice went, the second session, not the first,” he’s saying, squinting a little at the paper. “i wrote it over something else and i can’t see what it says. whatever. anyway, it’s raining here, and, like, half the cars didn’t end up going out for the second session. i was just trying to do my best for the session but i ended up setting the fastest lap! i didn’t even know until i got out of the car. did you watch? i don’t know if you did, i forgot to ask you, but i think it was a 1:34 or something like that. i could’ve been faster, obviously, but it was raining. its still raining right now actually which kind of sucks. i wouldn’t mind if you were here, but it’s just miserable and cold.” he pauses to take a breath. “wait, where are you?”
well that you weren’t expecting. “at home… where else would i be?” you reply, hoping that your confusion looks genuine.
“your background looks… i dunno.” he presses his lips together. “doesn’t look the same.”
“well, i’m at home,” you repeat, trying to come up with something on the fly. “pretending that i’m talking to you face to face instead of through the phone, like always.”
“ah, yeah. i do that all the time,” he admits, giving up on his scrutinization of what little he can see behind your hood.
“i miss you,” he says then, and its absolute hell knowing you can’t knock on his door just yet.
“i miss you too, oz.” you whisper. “keep telling me about your day?”
“sure, honey.” he gives you a soft smile, once again consulting his piece of paper. “so after the second session, i went and got dinner— oh wait, i forgot to tell you what happened earlier! i left the hotel room—”
you were hoping to let him tire himself out a bit from talking so much before approaching the door, but with every little detail of his day he shares you wish more and more that he was saying it directly to you and not through the phone, so you give up on being patient and knock three times.
“hold on, baby. someone’s at the door.” he says on the other end of the call, getting up from where he’s sitting on the bed and leaving his phone behind, so you end the call to free both of your hands.
the look on his face when he opens the door is priceless. “you’re joking.”
“i figured you should tell me the rest in person,” you say. “besides, i’d be damned if i missed your birthday.”
“you’re joking,” he repeats, pulling you and your suitcase into the room and wrapping you into a tight hug. “you’re actually here.”
“of course i’m here.” you laugh, kissing his shoulder through the loose material of his worn out t-shirt. “i don’t want to be anywhere else but here.”
“i’m so happy,” is all your enthusiastic, talkative boyfriend says before kissing you, smiling against your lips the whole time.
“you hung up on me?” its the first thing he says once the two of you are cuddled up in bed, and your jaw drops.
“seriously? i’m right here, and you’re gonna come for me for hanging up on you?”
“i would never hang up on you, but whatever,” he rolls his eyes, but cuddles you closer all the same. “okay, you have to know what lando told me last night about this one thing he did over winter break. it doesn’t sound bad at first, but i promise you it gets so much worse.”
you sigh in content, happier than anything to be in oscar’s arms and listening to him talk your ear off for the foreseeable future. you would never lie about it— you don’t want to be anywhere else but here, with him.
note: happy oscar dayyy!! wishing my fellow aries the best birthday ever and i hope you all enjoyed this 🫶🏼 i low key hate it but hopefully that’s just me lolz
my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @lightsoutletsgo
#blurb#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri fluff#op81 x reader#op81 x you#op81 imagine#op81 fanfic#op81 fluff#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one imagine#formula one fanfic#formula one fluff#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fluff#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fluff
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how bout a charles leclerc x kpop idol reader? where charles and the reader have been dating even before they became famous. theyve been soft-launching each other for years and years, and the fans are trying to figure it out.
ps: i imagine jennie kim as the face claim (i love her sm)
gf reveal please
summary: when fans are manifesting a relationship they don’t know already exists
pairing: charles leclerc & reader
liked by lewishamilton and 5,928,193 others
youruser happiest girl in the worlddd
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rubylove to the person that sends her blue flowers every year for her birthday, thank you <3
heartyn the way she’s always getting the same flowers every year 😭
petrolh lewis what are u doing here 👀
pink1 pretty sure they did a campaign together recently so nothing juicy from them
rosiesyn i just want to know who’s been gifting her flowers every year
liked by carlossainz16, landonorris, pierregasly and 2,928,019 others
charles_leclerc from the camera roll 📸
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lecler16 ahhh not charles in his soft launch the flowers again???!-
scuder1a going to pretend i didn’t see the last slide 🫶🏻
pierregasly 😁
amorcl ???
lestapa33n what does this mean
pinkari i want to say something but i don’t want to get ratioed on here too
liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, carlossainz16, and 4,729,019 others
youruser uk recap (ps. wasn’t exactly the results we wanted but still had a good time!)
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pinkscuderia HELLO YN WAS AT SILVERSTONE AND THERE WAS NO PICTURES OF HER AT THE PADDOCK??!/!/
ynnniviee we were robbed of yn content at the race
char_les PLEASE TELL ME WE HAVE SOME CONTENT OF YN WITH THE DRIVERS scuderiaferrari
scuderiaferrari 🤭
sainzchar DOES THAT MEAN YESS???
scuderiaferrari see you again next race?
pinkari CHARLES IN THE LIKES??? ONE STEP CLOSER TO MY SHIP SAILING
lechairs but charles already has a gf…
liked by landonorris, youruser, and 2,292,019 others
charles_leclerc 9th. not the results we were expecting but thank you for the continuous support. next stop break.
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itsleclerc silverstone + strategist screwed over charles this weekend but the man still has the mood to soft launch..
clmcquen shout to to charles gf for helping him through this tough time
lechairrie one day ferrari will stop fcking up charles
ynmon would have been great if yn got to celebrate a win with ferrari :(
youruser forever proud! comment has been deleted
sainzchair ENOUGH with posting the back of her head gf reveal pls
liked by youruser, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 4,420,324 others
charles_leclerc always nice to spend the holidays with family ❤️
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itslec1erc it’s been 5 holidays gf reveal when 🥹
scuderiaferrari lovely family ❤️
carlossainz55 this a big ass tree
landonorris psa! charles gf makes more money than him
charles_leclerc as she should :)
alex_albon when i borrowed $200 from her and she didn’t ask for it back 💃🏻
ynlnlover is anymore here from yn recent post?!
liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, lewishamilton and 4,593,013 others
youruser happy holidays everyone!
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ariyn the dress... the tree... the private jet
sharleclerc waittt is this the girl from charles recent post???
landonorris oop the dots are connecting
georgerussell63 did you get me a christmas gift this year??
youruser uM haha
ynhearrt NOO MOTHER FIRST DATING RUMOR 💔
plsyn f1 driver x kpop idol is the weirdest crossover i’m sorry???
liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, pierragasly, youruser and 29,210,425 others
charles_leclerc took her on a trip for our fifth anniversary ❤️
tagged: youruser
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pierregasly damn i wanted to be the one who did the reveal 💔
youruser ilyy 💞
carlossainz55 does this mean i can finally post my pictures 😭
sharlcare STOP THIS IS SO UNEXPECTED
ynmomm THE VISUALS WNSNDNSNW
scuderiaferrari parents 🫶🏻
liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 12,244,091 others
youruser me and my man <3
tagged: charles_leclerc
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pinkari EVERY TONGUE THAT RISES AGAINST ME SHALL FALL
leschairs it was you and me against the world :(
charles_leclerc yn only agreed to hard launch cause she didn’t want pierre to reveal it himself 😞
pierregasly you never want to see me win :/
landonorris adopt me 🫶🏻
ynfan THE PRETTIEST COUPLE
charlyn don’t know who i want more, yn or charles 😭
carlossainz55 don’t forget about me 🥹
#charles leclerc au#charles leclerc#formula 1 imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smau#formula one smau#f1 instagram au#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine
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Smutty dom!Xavier (Sex Pollen Pt. 2)
This is part 2 of my Xavier smut series, On The Job Work Hazards: Sex Pollen Made Me Do It. Find part 1 here. You can read it without part one, but it would make more sense in the context of the story. It's also wild that this ended up being an 11k+ word series🤷♀️😎
Quick recap: After a battle with a flower wanderer, you and Xavier unexpectedly get a little frisky, and now you're going to finish what you started. Read on AO3.
Pairing: Shen Xinghui | Xavier / MC (fem! reader) Tags: Dominant!Xavier, fingering (f. receiving), oral sex, ass play (f. receiving), shower sex, consensual rough sex, roleplay (consensual non-consent) -- everyone is an adult, nobody gets hurt 😊
Title: On The Job Work Hazards: Sex Pollen Made Me Do It
I wasn’t quite sure how it happened - I had never been swept away and materialized with Xavier before (I didn’t even think it was possible), but we appeared in his apartment in seconds. I gripped his neck a little tighter, frightened of the subtle power he displayed.
“Xavier…” I questioned, trailing off as I peered up into his face. His eyes were shielded by his bangs, and he wouldn’t meet my gaze. He just slowly released me, letting me slide down his body.
He tapped his watch, and there were beeps and alarms from both of our hunter units as we officially entered the decontamination protocol. In unison, we both took off the watches and set them aside.
“Do you want to shower first?” he asked, voice quiet and restrained.
He didn’t want to meet my eyes, and I felt a little hurt. “I…did you change your mind?” I ask, a little hesitant but not quite sure how to read his body language. Just minutes ago, he seemed so confident and sure of what he - we - wanted.
“No,” he said, startled, his eyes jumping up to meet mine. “I just didn’t want to pressure you in case you decided you…didn’t want…”
I sighed in relief, pulling out my ponytail and letting my hair fall down around my shoulders. I could see the bright yellow pollen still dotting my hair, skin and clothing.
“Xavier, sometimes…” I shook my head lightly. “Look, I’d tell you if I didn’t want to. Haven’t I always been honest with you?”
“Sometimes too honest,” he agreed, nodding slightly. “It can hurt my feelings.”
I bit my lip, trying to stifle a smile. “Shaddup.”
“Like that,” he said.
“If you don’t take your clothes off and join me in the shower, I’ll definitely just go back to my apartment instead,” I replied, starting to unfasten the various buckles and straps on my hunter vest.
His hands immediately got to work, quickly unfastening his buckles and zips, and just as I shimmied out of my vest and undershirt, he was already standing nude in front of me.
I gaped, my eyes drifting down his body in a slow, visual caress. His skin was so pale and smooth (practically hairless except for a few scattered dustings of ultra-light ash brown hair), but a pink flush had started at his cheeks and worked its way down his neck and shoulders.
“You…” I gulped a little, watching his abs ripple as I stared at his body in awe.
“Do you like it?” he asked, watching the expressions race across my face. He placed one palm on his belly before sliding it down, taking hold of his rapidly-hardening cock. I swallowed, a little breathless.
“Yes.” I tried to bite back a moan.
“Please take off your clothes, I want to see you too,” he said, his whispery voice more urgent now with his need. He didn’t step towards me, simply watching as my hands started moving once more. I bent down to slide off my boots and socks, and pushed my pants and underwear down over my hips.
As I stood back upright, he appeared in front of me, the heat radiating off of his skin and warming mine. I could feel goosebumps race over my flesh, and his masculine scent and the soft rustle of his hair twined around my body. I had never wanted someone the way I craved him.
“Touch me,” I half-begged, half-demanded. My nipples hardened in the slightly cool air conditioning.
He reached out, trailing one finger across delicate collar bones before dipping down to trace along the curves of my breast. Using one finger, he scraped gently over one nipple. I inhaled quietly, my head tipping back slightly as he used his fingernail to scratch along the surface again, and then for a third time. My sensitive flesh tingled, red and slightly puffy.
“Your mouth too?” I wanted it to be a command, but it came out pleading instead.
“Hm,” he said, neither a yes or a no, simply shifting a little closer. He knew what I wanted, and where I wanted his mouth, but instead, he barely moved to allow his chest to brush delicately against mine, the heated touch of his skin almost like fire to my sensitive flesh.
His hand drifted away from my nipple, instead sliding down my ribcage and settling at the small of my back. He lowered his head, his soft hair a gentle caress against my cheeks and neck, and he pressed a small kiss to the underside of my chin.
I tried to bite back the whine of dismay, lifting my chin a little higher to encourage him to trail down my neck and shoulders, but he didn’t move. His tongue darted out to take a lick, and then another, the soft, slick muscle a hint of things to come. I pressed my thighs together unconsciously.
“You said you wanted to be fucked…and then loved. Is that right?” Xavier asked, his voice somewhat muffled against me.
“Yes,” I whispered. “That’s what I want.”
“Then I’ll need to get you ready,” he murmured, pressing another gentle kiss to my neck before he stepped back, holding out one hand. “Come with me.”
I eagerly placed my hand in his, letting him tug me into the spacious, cream-colored bathroom. His apartment was a lot nicer than mine, but I didn’t stop to take in all the details, just watching as he flipped on the switch in the shower to warm up the water. He let me go to get a thick towel, and I was a little amazed at the casual confidence in his nudity. But I supposed if I had his body (and other gifts), I’d be pretty confident as well.
“Let me brush my teeth first,” I said, watching his tight little ass clench as he opened a drawer and pulled out a new toothbrush for me. I got to work while he hung up the towel on the hook next to the shower door, and he motioned me inside after testing the temperature. I stepped into the spray, the hot water a welcome jolt after the sudden coolness of the apartment following an energetic battle.
“Xavier,” I murmured, unaware of how affectionately I said his name as he soaped up his hands and started stroking up and down my body. My neck and shoulders, arms, breasts and hips, he left no part of me untouched. He knelt down in front of me, soaping my legs, but his eyes were glued to the curves and folds between them. He toyed with the small patch of soft, dark hair I had trimmed right above my pussy.
“I like this,” he said. “You are…perfect.”
I blushed furiously. “You don’t-” I started to say before he cut me off.
“I’m not being polite, and I’m not lying. You are so beautiful.”
I shivered, the feel of his calloused hands rubbing up and down my legs sending a jolt of pure pleasure through me. He dipped me back into the water to rinse off.
“Let me wash you too,” I said, reaching for the soap.
“Next time, honey,” he promised thickly. He washed and rinsed himself off with record time, thrusting his head under the spray and scrubbing his hair roughly as I moved out the way to give him room.
I laughed as he rushed, the warm steam in the shower adding the hazy, almost surreal experience. I could hardly wrap my head around how we just shifted from partners to lovers in less than an hour.
He suddenly spun around, wrapping his arms around me and tugging me closer to his body, resting me against his chest and my stomach pressed against his eager, straining cock.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he said, staring down intently at my surprised face, his blue eyes so dark they looked almost black.
“So long?” I asked, a little disoriented, but he didn’t answer me, instead lowering his head and pressing his lips against mine. I parted my lips on instinct, awash in sensation as his tongue slicked along my bottom lip and entered my mouth. Our tongues tangled together; he deftly rubbed the roof of my mouth, skimming over my teeth, and even coaxed my tongue to follow his back into his mouth. I returned the favor, the feel of his thin, sweet lips on mine and his breath panting into my mouth as we exchanged fervid kisses.
I could feel him, hot and trembling against my belly, and I undulated against his hardness in an unspoken invitation.
“Turn around and put your hands against the wall,” he commanded, his voice tight and low. “Spread your legs, honey.”
I did as he asked, in no mood to play any games, and I bent forward, resting my palms against the cold tile. My excitement rose when I heard him kneel behind me. He spread the cheeks of my ass, exposing me to his gaze.
I whimpered, clenching a little in nervousness, but he just hushed me with a gentle hum. “That’s it, honey, just like this. I’m going to taste all of you now.”
It was indecent the way his voice caused an almost visceral reaction, my pussy damp and excited.
“You’re so pretty, so pink and wet,” he said huskily, trailing his lips over one cheek and then the other. He suddenly nips me hard, and I can feel a blooming warmth from the bite. I groaned, my head lowered as I shifted back, hips arched and begging for his mouth.
“Please,” I whispered, body aching. The arousal that had begun following our battle came roaring back with a vengeance.
He trailed long, slender fingers up the damp slit of my pussy, his thumb rubbing a slow, meandering circle on my clit before sliding back down once more. The puffy folds were so sensitive, pink and flushed from my excitement, and tingled with every gentle stroke of his fingers.
I moaned, unable to help myself, arching my back and spreading my legs a little farther apart.
“Good girl,” he murmured softly, lips still pressed against the soft curve of my butt as he watched his fingers play in the damp folds, spreading them apart to expose my wet, quivering pussy. He grunted, obviously pleased, as he tugged playfully on one little fold.
“Why are you teasing me?” I grumbled, pressing my forehead against my hands. “I didn’t tease you like this.”
He immediately shifted, nipping a little harder and pulling back to admire the mark. “Alright, honey. I hear you.”
He immediately strengthened his strokes, going from light, playful touches to a more demanding tug. Using two fingers, he pinched my clit, massaging it with his calloused fingers in an undulating motion, tugging at the swollen hood.
I gasped, rocking back before pressing forward into his grip, pressing my clit more firmly against his fingertips. I could feel my body clenching in pleasure, empty and unfilled.
“Xavier, gods, please,” I sighed in pleasure, the edge of a moan in my words.
“That’s it, use my fingers. I’m going to get you nice and wet for me, okay?”
I shivered, pleasure racing down my spine and pooling between my legs. I could feel how damp and sticky my thighs were, the shower spray a distant hum of white noise.
“Yes, yes,” I panted. “Please.”
He let go of my clit, trailing those deft fingers back up my slit, circling the quivering hole and coating his fingers with my wetness. Using one finger, he dipped inside, just barely breaching me before pulling back out. I groaned before gasping when he sunk his finger back inside a little deeper, working me open.
With his other hand, Xavier spread my cheeks, fingering the tight little bud of my ass that I had only ever considered something shameful. My cheeks flamed in embarrassment at the whine of ridiculous pleasure that escaped from me when I felt him circling the little ring.
“Oh, no, I-” I started to say before my words were cut off. He had pressed a finger more tightly against my ass, not breaching me, but the pressure had me clenching even tighter around the finger he was pumping inside of me.
“You like it,” he murmured, as if a little surprised but very pleased. I could tell he was turned on, his voice a little raspy now.
“I’ve never…” I couldn’t finish the sentence as he slipped a second finger inside my pussy, curling and stroking the soft, quivering flesh inside. I breathed heavily, panting, my body bowstring tight. It had been a long time since I’d had a lover, and I was used to my own slim fingers or a vibrator. His fingers were deceptively long, filling me in a way I never could before.
“Yes, oh my gods, yes, feels so good,” I moaned. “Give me another.”
He followed my orders this time without argument, slicking a third finger and easing it inside of me with a slow, steady pump. I felt full now, almost too full, and I loved it. I arched and pressed back, back against his fingers and the hand he used to stroke my ass.
“That’s it, honey, just like that.”
For a moment, I thought I’d come just from his words, but suddenly, I could feel his tongue burrowing next to his fingers, licking around them as he continued to thrust them, slowly but steadily, into my pussy. I could hear tiny gulps, as if he were drinking nectar, a hum of pleasure vibrating his chest as he captured every droplet.
I started shaking, my legs quivering as I could feel the wave of pleasure starting to crest. I wanted to come so bad, but at the same time, stretch it out just a little longer, the feel of his fingers and tongue fucking into my pussy about to drive me over the edge.
“Oh, y-y-yes,” I stuttered, my hips writhing back on his fingers and mouth. I pressed my forehead even harder against my hands braced on the tile. Suddenly, I felt his mouth disappear, and I whimpered in loss, before a sudden exhale shook me as I felt his tongue tracing around the bud between my cheeks.
I gasped, the filthy image of his tongue buried between there immediately raced through my mind, and the slick, deft tongue he used to press against my flesh shot me into orbit. I climaxed so hard I saw stars, my body gushing and clenching around his fingers and tongue. I cried out, sobbing and rocking back onto his hands. I could feel the fluid racing down my legs as each throb of my orgasm rocketed through my body.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I wailed, his mouth furiously licking and sucking as his fingers thrust into my harder and faster, chasing and extending my orgasm.
“X-X-Xav-Xavier,” I stammered, my tongue heavy and tired as I finally started to come down and he pulled away, my legs trembling and almost giving out. He caught me in strong arms, holding me tightly against him, my back pressed to his chest. I could feel his dick throbbing where it nestled between my buttcheeks.
“You did so good, honey. That’s it, just breathe,” he said softly, burying his face in my neck as I tried to steady my breath.
“That…that was…amazing,” I said, still somewhat breathless, but I stretched in pleasure, lifting my hands to drape over his neck as he stood behind me.
“We’ve only just begun,” he replied, somewhat cheekily I noticed with a lifted eyebrow, but he sounded so happy that I let it slide.
“Let’s finish up here, I want you in my bed,” he murmured as he lifted his head. We stood there for a few moments longer just cuddling closer.
I stepped back into the spray, hastily washing away some of the slick between my thighs, my body still a little shivery with aftershocks. He watched me, soaping up his hands and sticking them in the spray around me, rubbing over my tummy as the water sluiced down our bodies.
He stepped back, reaching outside the glass door to grab our towels as I turned off the spray, and we dried off in comfortable silence. I giggled a little as I bent over, towel drying the damp strands of my hair and swiping down my legs.
“Why are you laughing?” he asked, his voice questioning.
“I just thought it was a little funny that this morning, I woke up with no idea that we’d be…uh…together like this,” I said, smiling as I flipped back my hair and wrapped the damp down around my body. He hadn’t bothered, just hanging the towel back up and stepping out of the shower nude.
He walked casually to the sink, swishing a little mouthwash as he stared at me in the mirror. After he had finished, he lifted his head to watch me drape my towel on the hook next to his and saunter out into the bedroom. I caught a glimpse of something soft, but shuttered, in his eyes. I wondered what he was thinking about…but it wasn’t the right time to ask, not when we both had something else on our minds.
I collapsed on his unmade bed, sprawling on the sky blue bed sheets and his fluffy white comforter bunched up under my hips. When I flipped onto my belly, I could smell the scent of him in the pillows and sheets, sweet and sugary (telling on his probable affinity for eating candy in the bed), and his warm, inviting scent.
He paused when he walked into the room, a clean towel in his hands that he threw over the footrest at the end of the bed as he watched me wallowing in his sheets. I wanted to leave a mark of my own scent behind, I thought, so that after I left, he would be reminded of me perhaps.
He crawled onto the bed, kneeling beside me, and ran his hands up the back of my thighs and over my butt, his fingers digging in a little as he traced them up to my shoulders. I wiggled a little, sighing as he trailed over my ribs and spine, and laughed at the ticklish sensation. He laid down beside me, moving the hair off my neck and giving me a gentle kiss, his chest pressed against my arm and back as he hovered over me.
“Xavier,” I murmured quietly, turning my head towards him as he propped himself up on one arm. The other hand smoothed up and down my back, hands warm against my skin.
“Yes?” he asked, watching his fingers as they tickled along my hips.
“It feels good,” I answered, stretching a little into the caress.
He hummed a little, thoughtful and quiet as he touched every part of me that he could reach. I flipped over, watching his hand trail along my skin as I moved, and it settled just under the dip of my belly button.
“What do you want me to do to you?” he asks in a low, rumbling tone - quite a departure from his usual whisper-soft voice. I liked the difference, knowing that I was hearing it because he was turned on and just as attracted to me as I was to him.
“Hmm,” I said thoughtfully, reaching up to rub his cheek, swiping a finger over his parted lips. He captured my finger between his teeth in a gentle bite before letting me go. “I want your mouth, your teeth and tongue and fingers, and I want your cock pounding into me while I come. I want my legs over your shoulders, I want you to fuck me from behind, I want to be on top of you and ride you until you think you might die.”
I smiled naughtily. “I guess I’m saying, I want it all.”
“That’s a long list for tonight, but I’ll see what I can do,” he answered casually. I gulped.
“It doesn’t have to be all at once,” I muttered. I draped my arms over his neck, tugging him closer.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked.
“Haven’t we already kissed?” I questioned back, smiling.
He just watched me, hovering above me propped on one arm, the other tracing over one nipple before pinching it.
“Yes,” I hissed, lifting my head in a silent beg for his mouth.
He smiled, a small one but there in the soft corners of his lips, and lowered his mouth to mine. Before today, we had never been this close, this intimate, but we were rapidly learning each other's likes and dislikes. I liked it when he nipped at my bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue, his mouth neither too wet nor too dry against mine. He liked it when I sucked at his top lip, licking along the seam of his mouth before my tongue dipped inside.
I breathed out a happy sigh when he pulled away, his nose nuzzling along mine as we breathed together. I combed my fingers through his damp hair, brushing the bangs back so I could see his face.
“I know a little about what you like,” he starts, his voice quiet and restrained. “What do you not like?”
I wasn’t really sure how to answer. How could I admit how generally normal my sex life had been? A few short-lived relationships when I was at the university, and one or two dates after I joined the hunter’s association didn’t make for an exactly thrilling love life.
Maybe he could see the conflict, or confusion, in my expression, because he gave me another quick, deep kiss before pulling away again. “How about this? Are you okay if I play a little rough?”
“How rough are we talking about? I don’t want any blood,” I said, staring up at him.
“I won’t hurt you like that,” he soothed, brushing a hand over my face, and tugging gently on a lock of dark hair. “Did you like what I did before? Bites and…” he paused, pinching my nipple again, but a little harder this time.
I gasped, nodded, and said “yes” on a long exhale. My nipple felt a little sore, but the pleasurable tingles overrode any discomfort. He leaned over, sucking the abused nipple into his mouth, pulling strongly at it. I grabbed his head, cradling him against my breast, and jerked when I felt his teeth clamp lightly over the tip. The grip got steadily harder, though, and I could feel a flash of pain and pleasure clouding my mind. I jerked, shudders wracking my body. He tugged at it once more before pulling away with a soft little pop as he let me go.
It was flushed red by his mouth, and I shivered, the damp skin prickling as he puffed a warm little breath over my breast.
“It seems you like a little pain with your pleasure?” he asked, but I could tell he already knew.
I nodded. “Not…not a lot,” I said, a blush on my cheeks. “But I like how you make me feel.”
“I’ll check in with you, okay? If you feel like it’s too much, I want you to say something. Green means you’re good, yellow means we need to take it slow, and red means no more. Got it?”
I nod. “Got it.” He was much more experienced with this than I was, I noticed. I tugged him down, brushing my lips over his. “What about you? What do you like?”
He smiled, catching his bottom lip between his teeth before he let go. “Hmm, that’s a conversation for another day. This is all about you, honey.”
I pouted, my lips pursing. I didn’t like that answer, but he swept me into another deep, searing kiss before I could argue. I slumped back to the bed once he released me, panting.
He lowered his head, nipping along my neck to the meat of my shoulder, using his teeth in a slightly harder bite. I grunted, writhing and feeling trapped by his teeth but incredibly excited. I’d never had another lover bite me like this - sure, a few love nips, but this was an actual bite. I could feel the imprint of teeth when I rubbed a hand over it, my mind a little hazy at the tender sensation.
“What color, honey?”
“Green,” I said, digging my head into the pillows and arching my neck in blatant invitation.
“Good girl,” he murmured, resuming his exploration. He slipped down my body, his mouth licking and sucking along the curves of my breasts before baring his teeth and biting down once more. A little harder this time, and as he released the clamp of his teeth, he sucked the flesh tightly into his mouth, his tongue licking along the trapped flesh. He was leaving a mark this time, an angry red bordering on purple.
“Oh, yes,” I moaned, the release of his mouth sending tingles shooting through my body, endorphins rushing to fill the space where pain had once been. He chuckled darkly, his face pressed between my breasts as he reverently kissed each mound.
“That’s it, I want to hear you even more.”
He went on, his hands and lips skimming over my body. I felt like there was no inch left unmapped, and I was panting by the time he finally knelt between my legs. He lifted one of my legs, propping it on his shoulder and rubbed his hands firmly from my ankle to my knee. He turned his head, biting the meat of my calf, but not enough to leave a mark.
“I’m going to use my fingers until you’re nice and ready for me, honey, and then I’m going to put your legs over my shoulders and fuck you deep into this mattress.”
I watched as his eyes locked on my pussy, now exposed with one leg thrown over his shoulder. I bent the other knee, digging my heel into the mattress and opening myself up to his gaze. I gripped the sheets since I couldn’t reach him, my body already aching and ready.
“Please,” I shamelessly begged. “Hurry.”
He tutted, a small sound, but I could see the smile in his eyes. “I don’t want to rush,” he said softly, his eyes lowering as he surveyed my body under his. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”
He reached down, gripping his cock with one hand as he knelt between my legs, his long, slim fingers wrapping around it. He stroked it, almost casually, as he watched me undulate with barely suppressed need.
“Xavier, you’re teasing me,” I pouted, my eyes glued on his hands. I swallowed hard, remembering the taste and feel of him in my mouth. His eyes were dark as he watched me, and I could tell he was practically reading my mind.
“Next time, I want you on my face while you suck my cock,” he sounded a little pained, watching as I licked my lips.
I nodded fervently, fists clenching in the sheets. “Please,” I begged again, trying to spread my legs even wider.
He didn’t tease me anymore, releasing his cock to grab my thigh as the other hand stroked up and down my damp slit. His thumb pressed against my clit, circling, while his fingers slowly dipped into my pussy. I was still wet from the play in the shower, no resistance against his entrance, so he easily added a second finger. He stretched me gently, curling his fingers and stroking that soft, spongy spot that had me groaning in pleasure.
His fingers curled and pressed forward, before he paused and went still, the pressure high and tight. I tried to wriggle my hips, arching and squirming. “Xav,” I whined, “keep moving.”
Instead, he lifted his second hand, two fingers clamping on my clit again, and between the pressure on my clit and in my pussy, I could feel myself rapidly building towards another climax even without extra stimulation. I moaned, thighs quivering. “I’m close,” I panted.
He massaged his fingers before releasing the pressure on my clit, and I could feel the blood rushing back into the tender area. He added one more finger, three buried deep as he curled and stretched me a little more before he finally lined himself up between my legs.
“You ready, honey?” he asked, voice tight and sultry, his pupils blown wide as he looked down at me.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I chanted, canting my hips up. I could feel the stretch in my hamstrings and thighs as he pulled my second leg over his other shoulder, my butt cradled between his thighs as he centered himself. He tilted forward, curling over me, and eased himself into my body in pulses. Pushing forward, withdrawing, over and over as he opened me up to fit his cock. I instinctively tightened as he bottomed out, wanting him to stay inside deeper, longer, filling me up.
He grunted, hips pulsing forward in a slow, methodical roll. I could feel him pressing against me, full and deep, and it was almost painful how good it felt. I threw my head back, gasping his name.
“Give me your color, baby,” he ordered, “because I’m going to start now.”
“Green,” I promptly replied, thighs clenching in excitement.
Without holding back, he spread his knees wider for better traction, one arm wrapped across my legs and the other braced beside me as he leaned over, and I felt him pull back and thrust in, hard and deep and fuck, it hurt so good, I cried out.
He picked up an almost brutal pace immediately, his cock rubbing against the sensitive walls of my pussy with the angle. All I could feel were short, sharp thrusts before he pumped into me so deep I could feel him against my cervix. Each movement sparked a rough drag against my clit, sending a shockwave through my belly.
I couldn’t even speak, my throat tight as I panted for breath. He kept thrusting, but it wasn’t mindless, it was with precision on just how deep he knew I could take it. And that faint edge of pain dissipated when he suddenly shifted, the edges of his cock now rubbing against that perfect spot inside of me with each thrust.
I went nova. I clenched my pussy, tight like a vise around his cock, demanding more. My fingers were digging into the mattress, and I could hear the faint tearing sound of the sheets. Tears leaked from my eyes as I was rapidly overwhelmed by pleasure, his cock pumping into me at a steady pace as soon as he realized he had gotten the perfect angle.
“Y-y-y-yes,” I tried to say, teeth chattering. All I could see were his shoulders arched above me, blocking out the light as he fucked me into the mattress, just as he promised. I was locked down tight, unable to get any leverage to push back against his thrusts.
I was almost insensible. “Harder, fuck me, yes, fuck, harder,” I tried to demand, but I don’t know if he could even understand me. He didn’t change his tempo, though, no matter how much I wanted him to go even deeper, his cock spearing into me over and over again.
I reached up with one hand, scrambling for purchase at his shoulder, and he curled over, my body rolled up even tighter, legs trapped as he fucked me now even deeper than before. Every thrust was winding me up even tighter.
I dug my nails in, scratching at him in my mindless pleasure. Warmth coiled between my legs, trembling from the stretch, and suddenly, I clamped down. Spasms and waves of pleasure burst forth, and I could hear the sound of his cock fucking into my clenching, wet pussy.
I cried out, tears streaming from my eyes, mouth open as I panted and gasped for breath, my entire body shivering with white hot flashes of heat and electricity from one of the most powerful orgasms of my life. He held me firmly, and I was unable to move away even as I began to grow more sensitive, but my climax kept cresting over and over again, unending, as he continued to thrust into my flexing pussy. My clit was overstimulated and sensitive, red and flushed as it dragged along his cock. His eyes were locked on me, tracing over my face and body obsessively.
I tried to writhe from the pleasure, but I couldn’t move, and excitement continued to flood me as I realized he had me exactly how he wanted me. There was nothing I could do. I sobbed, pleasure hazing my thoughts, and I felt like I was going to pass out.
“Color,” Xavier demanded harshly, sweat peppering his hairline and glistening on his chest and shoulders as he maintained his rhythm.
“Y-yellow?” I say somewhat questioningly. I was having a hard time catching my breath, and I knew as I came down from my orgasm I was going to be very sensitive, but I didn’t want to stop.
He hummed, slowing down though still pulsing inside of me, more gently now. “Let’s try this,” he says, and carefully pulls out. He lets my legs fall free and helps me flip over to my belly.
“On your knees, honey,” he coaxes. “That’s it, good girl. Rest your head on the bed, but lift your hips. There we go.”
The praise is���honestly, it was really doing it for me. I blushed and hid my face in the ragged sheets as I got into the new position, lifting my hips and arching my back. I turned my head a little, glancing over my shoulder.
Xavier was flushed, face and chest pink, damp from exertion and control. He was mind bogglingly gorgeous, the ropey muscles of his arms tight as he gripped my hips and abs clenched as he braced himself behind me.
I can feel the traces of my orgasm dripping down my thighs, damp and flushed as I move my legs further apart to let him slide more closely behind me. He stroked one hand over the curve of my butt before he drew back his hand and swatted me. I was more surprised than hurt, the slight sting of his palm print vividly red against the pale skin of my butt.
I gasped, rocking forward.
“Color, baby,” he reminded me.
“Green, very green,” I said, voice muffled in the sheets as I clench my hands.
He slapped my butt again, not any harder, but this time on the other cheek for a matching handprint. I bit down on my hand to smother my desperate whines. He didn’t go any further, just lined himself up and slowly sunk back into me, my pussy clenching around him as if to suck him in further.
He slipped a hand around my waist, his fingers dropping to rest over my clit. Not a lot of pressure, just a teasing stroke as he began to pick up his pace. He held on to my hip with his other hand, controlling our rhythm.
I groaned, my face turned to the side as I tried to breath through the sensitivity. I hardly ever went through the effort of multiple orgasms when it was just by myself, and I felt a little rusty. I bit my lip in stifled amusement at the thought, though I caught him tilting his head as he watched me, the slap of our flesh getting a little louder.
“So good,” I whispered, allowing myself to sync into the feeling of his body against mine, the heat of his skin, the thickness of his cock slipping deeper into my body. I shivered, a little tired and sore, but the ache seemed to heighten the slow deluge of pleasure.
“One more time, honey,” Xavier murmured gently behind me, his hips smoothly rolling forward, sinking into me. I was so wet, the slick glide of our bodies audible in the otherwise quiet bedroom.
“I-I can’t,” I said, tear tracks still damp on my cheeks. Almost as if mesmerized, he stretched out on top of me, leaning down to press along my back, licking tenderly at the tears of pleasure still dripping down my face.
He braced himself over my back, his hips still pumping, and I could feel the soft skin of his testicles brushing my ass each time he bottomed out. He was sticky with my orgasm, the scent of my body and my pleasure filling the room. He inhaled deeply, eyes like midnight, pupils blown in pleasure. He tweaked one of my nipples playfully, before pinching it harder a second time.
“You can, I know you can,” he answered, his voice whispery soft and seductive.
“No,” I whimpered. “I really can’t.” But I clenched around his cock, wet and needy and sore. I needed more. As if uncontrollably, he fucked me harder, deeper, groaning as I caught him off guard.
I realized what had set him off, and I hid my grin as I turned my face briefly away from him. I gave a faint struggle, whispering a soft “green”, before I raised my voice.
“No, Xavier, please, I’m too sore. I can’t,” I cried, letting out a little sob as tears welled in my eyes a little more. I could feel the sheets under my cheek growing damp. I struggled as if to try to pull away from him, twisting and reaching forward towards the headboard with one hand.
He growled, a flush spreading down his chest as I felt him get impossibly harder inside of me. Gods. I’d never done anything like this before, but I was so turned on, I could feel my thighs stained with my slick.
“No, don’t,” I said, struggling a little harder, my hands scrabbling for purchase against the mattress. He gripped my hips so hard, I knew I’d probably have bruises in the shape of his fingertips, and fuck, it was so deliciously bad. He stretched out on top of me, pressing me deeper into the mattress now, gripping my wrists in one hand.
“Take it, baby, I know you can handle it.” He nipped my earlobe hard before sucking it into his mouth, laving his tongue around the shell of my ear. He had me pinned down, splayed underneath him, and finally let go.
He fucked me hard, losing any gentleness he had remaining. I cried out, my body quivering from the bombardment, sensitive and on fire. He angled so deep I could feel him tight and hard, and I was stuffed full.
“Ah, ah, ah-” I panted with each thrust, my voice muffled as I pressed the side of my face into the mattress. He wrapped one arm under my waist, holding me tightly against him as he abruptly lifted one knee, my leg hooked around his, changing the angle until…
I sparked, spasming around his cock, squealing as I felt a release of fluid. I screamed into the mattress with my orgasm, tears gushing from my eyes as I cried out over and over. I could feel the warmth between our bodies as I squirted in pleasure, and a groan rumbled through his chest when he felt it.
I felt him lose his rhythm just as I started coming down, becoming more jerky until he pulled away, fisting his cock a few more pumps to jet his release on my back. I sighed with a small ‘ah’ as I felt the heat of his come in stripes along my skin. He moaned, head lolling to watch with narrowed eyes filled with pleasure as he aimed the last of his release on one of the handprints on my ass.
I sprawled bonelessly on the bed, dazed, while he slumped next to me, both of us panting. I shivered, the last vestiges of my multiple - incredible - orgasms rocketing through my body before I finally started to settle. He breathed deeply, his cock slowly softening against his belly as we lay in complete disarray on his bed.
“Wow,” I murmured, voice husky and strained after screaming through multiple climaxes.
He nodded before turning his head to look at me, one hand reaching for mine where it rested limply on the bed. He lifted my hand, brushing a tender kiss along the knuckles.
“You are so beautiful,” he answered, his voice also raspy with a post-orgasmic glow.
I blushed, a silly response considering this man had already licked my ass, fingered me to orgasm and then blew my literal mind with the best sex I had ever had, but his sweetness never failed to catch me off guard.
“You are too,” I said shyly, half burying my face into the bed and grinning as I watched his face, now relaxed, curve briefly with a small smile. He kissed my hand again before he groaned a little, rolling off the bed to his feet.
I chuckled, not daring to move with all of the fluid still dotting my back. “You sound like an old man,” I said, missing the look he darted my way. He stretched, rotating his shoulders as he stood unconcernedly nude, both of our fluids smeared across his belly. He reached for the towel at the end of the bed and wiped my back gently to remove the traces of his come, before he casually swiped it over his cock.
“If you have the energy, we can wash up,” he said calmly.
“And then a nap?” I asked hopefully.
“And then definitely a nap.”
#love and deepspace#fanfiction#lads#xavier x mc#xavier x reader#lads xavier#xavier love and deepspace#xavier lads#smut#gentle domination
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Weekly Recap | September 9th-15th 2024
10 days until season 8!!! 👀
I'm gonna try and put together a rec of my favourite post-S6 and 7 fics before S8 starts!
If you know anyone who isn't tagged, please let me know and/or tag them in the comments!
Complete
everything comes out teenage by Wildehack (tyleet)/ @wildehacked (First Date | 1K | Mature): “Hey,” Buck says carefully, remembering how he felt when it was his turn on Eddie’s side of the table. “You doing okay over there?”
Loving You is Easy by actualalligator/ @actualalligator (Post-S7 Spec, Getting Together | 1K | General): Nothing good happens after 9:30, Abuela always said. Sometimes good things do happen after 9:30. Sometimes they're important too.
how to slay a dragon by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Post-S7 Spec, Getting Together | 2K | General): Buck didn't know what to expect when he walked into the Han house. He definitely hadn’t expected to see Eddie sitting on the floor with Jee in front of him carefully french braiding her hair. He also hadn’t expected Eddie to be wearing a pink sparkly tiara. He definitely hadn’t expected Eddie to smile up at Buck when he saw him with soft eyes, eyes that didn’t feel like looking into an ocean of sadness, and carefully tie the end of one of the braids he was working on with a little bow. If Buck had ovaries he was pretty sure they would be exploding.
Here's the Punchline... by misterbabygirl (Getting Together, Post-S4 | 2K | Teen): OR: The 118 find out about the will and start a running joke about Eddie being careful otherwise Buck would end up as a single parent. Eddie tries to make the same joke.
be someone by bucksclipboard/ @excuseme-greentea (Post-S7, Pre-Buddie | 2K | Teen): A call leaves Buck wondering if he’ll ever be a parent. Not just a donor, a dad. A great dad. Chimney tries to convince him of his qualities – and Eddie has a hard time staying quiet. or: eddie thinks buck already is someone to chris
encounters closer and closer by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (Outsider POV, Media Fic | 2,5K | Teen): OR: a group of friends asks the question what's the deal with buckley and diaz?
the clarification of equilibrium by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (Post-S7 Spec, Jealous Eddie, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): “He leaned?” “Exactly. You know,” Eddie waves a hand. “Leaning.” Buck blinks. He knows he isn’t that drunk, but it honestly feels like he is. “You keep saying that word. I don’t think it means what-” “Leaning, Buck!” Eddie is clearly frustrated that Buck isn’t getting what he’s trying to say, but for two people who are usually on the same wavelength, who are often (lovingly) mocked for their ability to communicate without saying a word, Buck is hopelessly lost as far as this conversation goes. * ... or, the one where Eddie gets jealous about a conversation, and attempts to explain how body positioning works.
every dead-end street led you straight to me by ameliahart (Post-S7 Spec | 5K | Teen): Or, five times one of their exes mistakenly assumed Eddie was Buck's new boyfriend, and one time the ex was right.
i don't believe in god, but i believe that you're my savior by justhockey (Post-S7 Spec, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 6K | Teen): The first thing that happens is a Catholic church in the too-hot Texan heat; Eddie’s hands are damp with sweat and he wipes his palms across his best trousers. His Abuelo smacks the back of his hand to get him to stop and Eddie balls them into tiny fists, slips them beneath his thighs so he isn’t tempted to fidget. So he listens. Listens to the priest, and his droning, and his fire and brimstone, burning-in-hell, shameshameshame talk. The first thing that happens is Eddie is born. Born wrong, born twisted, born sinning. He spends the rest of his life trying to make up for it.
I'll Be Your Safe Haven by eightpackdiaz (Safe Haven Baby Box, Alternate Canon | 6K | Teen): A Safe Haven Baby Box is installed at the Station 118 firehouse. Buck's really good with the surrendered babies.
doesn't take a scientist to understand what's going on by Chash / @ponyregrets (Post-S7 Spec, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): Eddie is already struggling with having realized he has a thing for Buck and trying to figure out what to do about said thing when Buck finds out he needs glasses. Which means that Eddie also finds out he's really into Buck in glasses. He would prefer to not know this.
🔥 One Hundred Miles an Hour In My Head by Chash/ @ponyregrets (Post-S7 Spec, Jealous Buck | 8K | Teen): Buck sort of assumed that, at some point, he'd evolve out of being needy and insecure. And, to be fair, in some ways, he probably has. He feels a lot more confident existing in the world than he did when he was a kid. He's sure he has the right job, and he mostly thinks that if he got hurt badly enough that he couldn't be a firefighter anymore, he'd figure out another thing to do and another way to help people instead of spiraling like he did after his leg got crushed. He knows who he is, and he knows that he's valued for it. Sometimes, he even thinks stuff might someday be good with his parents. And then there's Eddie.
karma is a cat (purring in my lap) by cuddlyobrien (Post-S7 Spec, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 8K | Teen): Eddie finds a kitten, realizes he’s gay, falls in love with Buck and apologizes to Chris. Not in that order but kind of?
all of the girls you loved before by Wildehack (tyleet)/ @wildehacked (Post-S7, Getting Together | 9K | Explicit): Buck finishes the math on his fingers, and holds up one spread-wide hand. “Uh,” he says. “I mean, I’ve got a top five?” Everyone groans. - Buck's top five sexual experiences, plus one mediocre handjob.
Please (I've Been On My Knees) by Bookworm0303/ @insertlovelyperson (Canon, S2-S7, Post S7 Spec | 10K | Teen): The five times Buck and Eddie confide in one another about their failed relationships, and the one time they don’t have to.
Clammed Up by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Murder/Mystery | 11K | Teen): Captain Gerrard dies suspiciously at a murder mystery party held at Tommy Kinard's condo, with most of the 118 present. As the case unfolds, Athena finds she no longer knows who among her friends she can trust.
🔥 Next Best by Nejinee/ @nejineeee (A/B/O AU | 20K | Explicit): Eddie had been very clear that they needed to keep their relationship stuff off the job. That meant no make-outs, no groping of asses, and no sexy stuff. Buck was fine with that. (Part 2 of Second Best Series)
🔥 fuck it if i can't have us (series) by Wildehack (tyleet)/ @wildehacked (Post-S7 Spec | 2/? | 35K | Explicit)
i love you but i need another year (Post-S7, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 14K | Explicit): If Eddie were still a practicing Catholic, this is the kind of shit he’d go to confession about. — Eddie watches porn, experiences revelation, replies to a lot of text messages. down bad, crying at the gym (Post S7, BuckTommy Break-Up | 21K | Explicit): On Tuesday Buck tells Tommy he loves him. On Thursday he’s giving his best friend a ride to the airport, and they’re pulling up to LAX, and Eddie says “I love you.” — Buck cooks a lot of food, thinks about love, takes pictures of local wildlife.
WIP
how come everybody's dancing but you? by showedupatyourparty (Post-S7 Spec, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 1/4 | 7K | Mature): Buck feels guilty. Everyone he loves is going through something painful, difficult, or unexpected right now. And Buck is just…bisexual. It’s great that he’s figured it out, and it’s great that everyone has been so supportive, and Tommy is—Tommy is fine. The sex is good, at least. Consistent. When Buck gets a call from Eddie’s phone late on a Tuesday night in June, it’s cause for concern. * Buck unpacks his own feelings about his recently-discovered bisexuality. Eddie gets adopted by drag queens. They're both just trying their best to be happy.
Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Demon Buck, Canon Divergent | 10/? | 18K | Teen): Buck is a demon with the power to help with pregnancy, childbirth, and infant health. When the Buckleys make a deal asking for someone to help 'save their baby', Buck leaps at the chance as it will give him what he's always wanted: a life on earth. But demon deals are tricky and neither of them gets quite what they're after. This is Buck's journey as he navigates growing up on earth and remembering how to help those in need.
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The Outing Trip pt. 4, ft. tripleS Dahyun
tags: throatfuck, creampie, first time anal, daddy kink, rough
length: 13k+
author's note: @octoberautumnbox wrote a Dahyun fic recently, and it motivated me to do the same. In this finale of The Outing Trip, Dahyun takes all the spotlight, just like I promised some time ago—hope you like this one <3
-
“Girls, wake up, please”, you poke their exposed cheeks, “we have to leave soon”. Xinyu and Nakyoung open their eyes at nearly the same time. “Good morning”, Xinyu softly says, “what time is it?”. You quickly glance at the clock, “uh, just over 5 am”. Xinyu taps Nakyoung’s arm then points at you, “take care of him, Naky-yah”. Nakyoung, in her half-awake state, nods and gets off the bed. Your jaw drops in shock when you see Nakyoung get on her knees in front of you, “yo, what are you doing?”. “Xinyu said you like morning blowjob“, Nakyoung lets out a yawn, “give me your cock, please”. You put a palm on Nakyoung’s forehead when she leans forward, “no, I don’t consent. Besides, I already gave you my cock a few hours ago—let’s just wake up regularly, okay?”.
You lift Nakyoung up and place her back in bed with Xinyu, who immediately scoots over and hugs her. “If you two don’t get ready in time, I’m leaving you here”, you leave for the bathroom after delivering a kind warning to the sleepy cuties. As you’re standing under the shower, your brain wants to recap today’s events. First and foremost, Xinyu found out about your little affair with Dahyun and slapped you for it. You were so damn lucky that Xinyu was willing to forgive you. “Fuck, I almost lost everything”, you sigh, “play stupid games, win stupid prizes, Jung Jisung”. The second thing was arguably bigger than the first, as Nakyoung let you get in her ass; something that Xinyu has never done before, “I wonder what Xinyu thought about that”. Lastly, the latest turn of your relationship: you have Nakyoung, who has now reached the peak of her third wheel duties and become your side chick.
When you get out of the bathroom, you’re met with the sight of Xinyu on top of Nakyoung, kissing her passionately. “Girls, please”, you roll your eyes, “we’ll have plenty of time for this at home”. Xinyu gets off Nakyoung and pecks you on the lips, “I love you so much, oppa”. “I love you more, Xinyu-yah”, you reply to her. You then walk towards Nakyoung and peck her forehead, “I love you as well, Nakyoung-ah”. “Love is in the air—how cool is that?”, Xinyu exclaims. You push Xinyu towards the bathroom, “take a shower and be quick about it, ‘kay?”.
You sit on the bed next to Nakyoung, who’s smiling rather sexily for some reason, “I feel like we have things to talk about”. “If it’s not about sex, I don’t want to hear it”, Nakyoung deflects. You wanted to talk about this whole love triangle thing, but it’s not exactly related to sex, so you decide to keep it for later.
-
“Babe, look”, you nudge Xinyu’s arm and point at the sight in front of you, “that’s quite the welcoming party, no?”. Xinyu squints as she tries to make out who those people are, “that’s… Yooyeon-unnie and Jungwoo-oppa—who is that girl holding his hand?”. “I feel like I’ve seen her before, but I don’t know who that is”, you say. Xinyu lets out a laugh, “what are they even doing, oppa?”. You lean to whisper in her ear, “I’m more concerned about Nakyoung-ie. How will she react to seeing Jungwoo and this girl holding hands?”. Xinyu’s grin disappears as the realization hits, “oh, yeah, you’re right—I’ll keep an eye on her, oppa”.
The bus rolls into a stop, and the co-driver opens the doors for you and the others to get off. You understand that these people are desperate to get home, so you let them get off first while you and your girlfriends stay behind. As you wait for your turn with Xinyu, you see Chaeyeon walking in front of Dahyun, the latter covering her head with the hood of her sweater. “Oppa, unnie, we’ll be leaving first”, Chaeyeon waves with a smile, “see you guys soon!”. You and Xinyu smile at them and wave back. “We’ll see you soon, Chaeyeon-ah”, you choose to not say Dahyun’s name, considering that Xinyu’s wounds are still very fresh—it doesn’t feel right to ignore her, though.
You look behind you and see that everyone has gotten off, which means that it’s now your turn. “Let’s go, baby”, you take Xinyu’s hand and pull her onto her feet, and at the same time, you gesture to Nakyoung to follow you. “Let’s not say anything about our situation, okay?”, you whisper to Nakyoung and Xinyu.
Everyone waves at you as soon as you step outside. You give each person present a high five, including Jungwoo’s new girl. “Jisung-ah, this is Suyeon. Babe, this is my president, Jung Jisung”, he introduces you to her. “Ah, they’re dating”, you quickly glance at Nakyoung and see that she has her resting face on. “You look familiar—we’ve met before, haven’t we?”, you say to her. Suyeon confirms your suspicion and says that you interviewed her when she tried to join the council. “Can I ask how you are nowadays? Jungwoo told me about your misfortunes”. Suyeon and Jungwoo look at each other lovingly, so you estimate that everything is going well for them. “No one will hurt her ever again”, Jungwoo says with a beaming smile.
You invite your friends to get congee for breakfast, but only Yooyeon agrees to go—Jungwoo says that he’s promised Suyeon that they’ll visit Suyeon’s parents today. “Safe travels!”, you part with them and lead the three girls to your car. “I hope this thing didn’t die”, you press the ignition button while pressing down on the clutch pedal with a foot, “come on, Jennie; I need you right now”. As if hearing your pleas, your car roars to life after a few seconds. “Ah, very good, Jennie”, you praise your car, “c’mon, girls; aren’t you hungry?”
-
“Hello, welcome to Congee Club. A table for 4, I assume?”, a staff greets you as you enter the congee place. “Yes, please”, you follow the staff to your table, “do you have anything else other than congee, by any chance?”. The staff hands you a menu sheet, and you see that they also offer a different type of noodles; “we can put the same toppings on the noodles”, the staff adds. You look at your friends and collect their orders: Yooyeon wants congee with shredded braised chicken, Nakyoung wants congee and quail eggs, and finally, Xinyu wants the same thing you’re getting, which is noodles with extra boiled chicken on the side. The shop gives out complimentary hot tea, so you don’t need to worry about the drinks. “Alright, they’ll be out soon”, the staff takes the menu sheet with her and leaves your table.
“They’re dating, aren’t they”, Nakyoung says, seemingly unhappy about Jungwoo and Suyeon, “fuck!”. Nakyoung’s curse was loud enough for other patrons to hear, thus turning their heads to look at you. You offer those you can see a smile to defuse the situation, and at the same time, you pinch Nakyoung’s thigh. “Keep it down, Naky-yah—goodness me”, you scold her. “But Jungwoo-oppa should’ve been mine, oppa”, Nakyoung complains, “now I won’t have a chance to be with him”. You want to say “well, you have me”, but you decide against it and say something else. “First of all, it was you who decided to dip”, you put up your fingers as you narrate your thoughts, “secondly, there are plenty of fish in the sea; you’ll find someone else”. Your words aren’t exactly the most comforting, but you’d like to think that they’re what Nakyoung needs to hear right now. “Fuck you, oppa—respectfully”, she says to you with a pout.
Seeing that you and Nakyoung are done talking, Yooyeon takes her turn to speak with you. “How was the trip, Jisung-ah? Did you manage to, y’know, talk to her?”, Yooyeon makes quotation marks with her fingers. “I mean, yeah, but it wasn’t exactly fruitful”, you summarize, “basically Xinyu found out about me and Dahyun-ie and slapped me for it”. Her eyes widen as she looks at you and Xinyu, “but you didn’t break up, did you?”. You shake your head, “no, Xinyu was kind enough to forgive me. I also promised her to never do such thing again”. Xinyu moves her hands closer to yours, indirectly asking you to hold them, so you do just that. “I love you, baby, and I’m sorry for everything”, you say to Xinyu, earning a warm smile from her and Yooyeon. “I don’t know who I’d side with if you broke up, honestly—it’s not even my relationship haha”, Yooyeon chuckles, amused with herself.
“Oh, hey, it’s here”, you point at the staff, who is carrying a tray full of food in her hands. “Thank you very much!”, you take the bowls from her hands to help distribute food to your friends. Xinyu gestures to Nakyoung to swap seats with her so that she can sit next to you, and you help them by moving their bowls accordingly. Xinyu wraps an arm around yours and leans against your shoulder, “feed me, oppa”. “Sure, baby”. You move her congee closer to you and sprinkle some pepper into it, just the way she likes it. “Choo-choo”, you guide a spoonful of congee towards her mouth, and she welcomes you in with a smile. “Everything is better when you’re with me, oppa”, she says, letting out a happy hum after. All the while you’re taking care of Xinyu, Yooyeon is looking at you, but she quickly looks away when you make eye contact with her.
-
“Hah, finally—home sweet home”, you punch in your passcode and enter your apartment with Xinyu. She puts down her duffel bag at the doorway and runs towards the bedroom, leaving the door open for you. “You alright, baby?”, you lean against the door frame and observe your girlfriend, “do you need anything?”. “I need—“, a big yawn cuts her off, “I need you right here, oppa”.
Right before you get in bed, Xinyu stops you and asks you to help her undress. “Are we having sex?”, you ask to make sure. “No—well, not yet at least”, she throws her clothes onto the floor, “I just want to feel your skin on mine”. Since her intentions have been made clear, you take off your clothes. You don’t just toss them away, though—you fold them tidily, and you do the same for Xinyu’s. “Ah, sorry about that”, Xinyu grins sheepishly as she watches you fold her clothes.
You quickly look at the clock, “ah, 10 am; plenty of time to chill”. Xinyu opens her arms, “come here, daddy”. You get on the bed while letting out a sigh, “you can’t just call me that—now I have a boner, thanks to you”. She covers her mouth to hide her giggles, “do you want help with that?”. You pinch her exposed nipple, earning a yelp and a slap on the wrist from her. “I want you tonight, Xinyu-yah; I’ll empty my tank for you”, you say to her. “Just tonight?”, Xinyu puts on a dramatic pout, “what about tomorrow? Are you bored of me?”. You pull her into your arms and tangle your legs with hers. “How can I get bored of you, baby? I love you so much and you always love me back”. Xinyu lets out a squeal, “I can’t with you, oppa”.
“Babe, I’m sorry for bringing this up right now”, you start cautiously, “I want to make it right with Dahyun-ie and salvage whatever relationship I have with her”. “And how do you want to do that, oppa?”. “That’s a good question, actually”, you scratch your forehead in confusion, “any ideas?”. “Maybe you can spend a day with her, oppa”, she suggests, “tell her I’m away or something like that. I’ll stay at home while you, uh, conduct your business”. You ask her if it’s okay to spend next weekend with Dahyun, to which she says yes—one condition, though; “if you’re having sex with her, you must wear protection; you can only have raw sex with me”. You agree with her terms and thank her for letting you talk about this. “You don’t have to thank me, oppa. I’m just trying to help”, she says, pecking your chest after. You start feeling emotional, but you hold your tears in for now, “I’m so thankful for you, baby. I’m so sorry for cheating on you”.
-
Well, here it is, Saturday morning on the following weekend. Dahyun has managed to avoid you the whole week, but today, you hope that you’ll be able to catch her. It is still pretty early, and Xinyu is still sleeping—wouldn’t want to leave without saying bye to Xinyu, would you?
You look around the apartment to find something to do to kill some time, and your brain suggests cleaning the apartment. “Well, let’s clean this place, shall we?”. First, you plan out the route: you want to start by mopping the floor and vacuuming the sofa, then wipe the kitchen counter and dining table with wet cloth, and finally, you’ll end the, erm, shift by cleaning the bathroom. “That is a sound plan”, you say to yourself.
Before you start mopping the floor, you grab the vacuum cleaner and use it to pick up fallen hair and the like so that it doesn’t get dragged around by the wet mop. You run the long nozzle of the vacuum cleaner under the sofa and TV shelf, since it’s most likely where dust ends up. Once that’s done, you dump the vacuum cleaner into the bin to be thrown out later.
You then make your way towards the laundry area where you keep the mop and bucket and take them to the bathroom. After filling the bucket with water mixed with some mopping solution, you’re now ready to mop the floor. You start from the window of the living room and snake your way through, reaching under the sofa and TV shelf to make sure that you don’t miss a spot.
When you go back to the bathroom to rinse the mop and change the water, you hear a thumping sound coming from the living room, so you check it out; you see Xinyu squirming around on the floor in front of the bedroom while rubbing her butt, seemingly in discomfort. “Did you slip, baby?”, you lift her and place her on the sofa, “sorry about that, baby”. “Aaaaah, oppaaaaa”, Xinyu whines, “I didn’t know it was weeeet”. You laugh at her, “just stay here, okay? I’ll get back to you after I’m done”.
Now that Xinyu’s comfortably lying on the sofa, you resume your work and mop the bedroom floor. “Might as well make the bed while I’m here”. You pull the sheets around until they’re straight and tidy up the pillows and blanket before running your mop around the bedroom floor. “What the fuck—is this cum?”, you bend forward and take a closer look at the persistent stain in front of the bed. You run your mop aggressively over the stain, but you can still see the outline of it. “Ah, fuck it; I’ve got bigger fish to fry”.
“Oppa”, Xinyu calls out to you when she sees you coming out from the bedroom, “can I help with anything?”. You carefully tippy-toe towards her and join her on the sofa. “Just sit still and look pretty, please”, you peck her cheek, “are you okay? Does your butt still hurt?”. Xinyu shakes her head, “no, it was more embarrassing than painful”. “Yeah, well, you should’ve paid more attention”, you tease her, earning a pinch on the cheeks from her.
“Babe, can you clean the kitchen, please? I’m going to clean the bathroom”, you ask for her help. Xinyu taps her chin, “and what do I get for helping you, oppa?”. You replicate her gesture and tap your chin, “hmm, what do you want?”. “I want your cum”, she says with a smile, “ah, actually, you’re going to be fucking Dahyun-ie a lot so I guess you should save your load for her”. You don’t know how to react to that, so you opt to stay silent, just to be safe. “Alright, fine. I’ll help you”, she jumps off the sofa, “you owe me pizza and pasta, oppa”. That, you know how to react to. “Alright, cool. Let’s meet here again after we’re both done”.
You’ve breezed through your task, and you assume Xinyu has too. “Babe?”, you call out to her from the bathroom, “you want to shower, or no?”. “One second!”, you hear a reply from her. You hear her rapid steps, and soon, she appears at the door of the bathroom. “Shower! Shower!”, she exclaims as she starts undressing. “You thought I wanted to shower together?”, you say to her in a flat voice, teasing her. “You didn’t? Oh, sorry”, Xinyu turns around and makes to leave the bathroom. You reach for her wrist and stop her, “I was just kidding, baby; of course I wanted to shower with you”. “That’s what I thought”, she comes in for a quick kiss, “I’d like to have a load, oppa”. She did say that you should save it for Dahyun, but you don’t have the heart to decline her claim to your first load—she is your girlfriend, not Dahyun. “Of course, baby”.
“I hope one day we have a bathtub, oppa”, she says, seemingly out of nowhere, “I’d love to have sex in a tub”. “I mean, we can move to an apartment that has one”, you shrug, “do you want to?”. Xinyu didn’t expect such an answer, as she was only yapping mindlessly. “M-maybe next semester, oppa”.
You ask her to sit on the toilet and kneel in front of her, just like you usually do. “Okay, then”, you start, “you said you want my first load? How do you want it?”. “Fuck me and cum inside; just like how we do it best”. You exchange smiles with Xinyu before getting down to business. She grabs your chin and invites you for a warm kiss, to which you respond warmly by, well, kissing her.
“I wish I knew other ways to show my love other than saying I love you”, Xinyu pouts, feeling stumped. “You don’t need to worry about that, baby; I’ll never get tired of hearing you say it”, you assure her. You’re flustered when you see her shed a tear. “Y’know, my ex used to make me feel like I was always lacking, and now, you always make me feel like I’m the best girl there is—God, if only you know how grateful I am for you, oppa”, she adds as more tears escape her eyes. “I don’t think we can have sex in this mood—why did she bring up her ex, though?”, you think, and you’re most likely correct. Xinyu needs comfort more than she does cum—no big deal, though; it’s not like it’s the first time you’ve been blue-balled (if you even can call it that). “Babe, I’ll help you shower and then we can cuddle, okay? Let’s keep the sex for next time”.
-
Xinyu plants her head on your chest, her favorite resting spot. “What time are you leaving, by the way?”, she asks. “I think I’ll have better chances to see her if I go to her restaurant”, you eye the clock on the wall, “I’ll probably leave in 2 hours”. Xinyu only lets out a hum, thus making you curious about her feelings. “How do I say this, oppa”, she sighs, “I don’t feel as hurt any more about the fact that you cheated on me”. “Really?”, you’re surprised to hear that, so you ask her to elaborate. “I mean, my ex also cheated on me, so I understand why someone would do such thing—never expected that you’d be like him, though”, she chuckles at the end.
You’re somewhat offended to hear Xinyu clump you up with her ex, but you literally did the same thing he did. “Like I said, the plan is to see Dahyun-ie and part ways with her, like, properly”, you remind her, “will you let me do that?”. “Sure”, says Xinyu, “just make sure you make the right impressions. I don’t want Dahyun-ie to think that I hate her, because I don’t”.
-
You were briefed by Xinyu before you left; she told you to get a bar of her favorite chocolate and a bag of Doritos to give to Dahyun as a little present. She also told you to give Dahyun this letter that she has written when you leave on Sunday. You didn’t expect Xinyu to take this sort of stance, but she probably only wants to help make sure everything ends well and everyone gets to be happy.
Xinyu’s words of “make sure you make the right impressions” keep repeating in your head as you’re walking towards Dahyun’s restaurant. You can’t believe your luck; Dahyun is attending the cashier. “Hello, welcome to—“, she’s surprised to see you, “o-oh, he-hello, oppa”. “Hi”, you show her a calm smile, “how are you, Dahyun-ah?”. Dahyun declines you the opportunity to have a conversation, shaking her head and re-focusing on the POS tablet in front of her. “What can I get you today?”, she asks, not looking at you. “One double smash burger and fries, and one iced lychee tea, please”. “Sure, please wait”.
Waiting is what you’re doing right now. You have no one else to talk to because your friends aren’t here with you—that guy with the headphones sitting at the other table probably wouldn’t appreciate you disturbing his lunch. “I probably should text Xinyu”, you think, so you pull out your phone and string together a message for her. Xinyu is probably asleep right now; it says that she was last online around 30 minutes ago, which is right after you left the apartment. The image of your sleeping girlfriend makes you feel sleepy yourself, and this restaurant table looks very comfortable to sleep on right now. You cover your mouth as you yawn; “surely Dahyun-ie will wake me up, right?”.
-
You don’t know how long you’ve been sleeping on the table, but it for sure still doesn’t feel enough. In your sleep, you can feel someone running their hand softly on the back of your head—not sure why your brain wants you to open your eyes, though. “Hm?”, you mumble as you open your eyes, “oh, hi”. “Hi, oppa”, Dahyun greets you in the gentlest voice you’ve ever heard from her, “tired?”. Well, yes, you are tired; “I spent the whole morning cleaning the apartment, Dahyun-ah”. She points at the tray full of food in front of you, “well, I have just the thing for you, oppa”.
Dahyun starts walking away from your table when she sees that you’re fully awake, but you stop her in her tracks by grabbing her wrist. “Please, sit with me”, you gesture to the empty seat next to you, “I want to talk”. She hesitates at first, but she eventually takes a seat next to you. “Oppa”, she says, her voice tiny, “I’m sorry”. “No, no, no—I’m sorry”, you slowly reach for her hands, “I’m the one who fucked up”. Dahyun stays silent momentarily before replying to you. “Do you like me, though, oppa? Do you think that I’m attractive?”, she asks. “I mean, yeah—have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror?”, you think that it’s obvious, “you are attractive”. Dahyun smiles slightly and thanks you for the praise. “Go eat, oppa; nothing else is worse than cold fries—I won’t leave”, she says. You put a fry in your mouth and start chewing. “This isn’t regular fries, is it? What is this taste?”, you wonder. Dahyun tells you that she asked the cook to add a seasoning mix that she has come up with. You then take a fry and bring it towards her mouth, “have a bite, sweetie”. She holds your wrist while she takes the fry with her teeth—you’re surprised when she pecks your hand after; “thank you, oppa”. You take a moment to smile at her before turning your attention back to your food—it’s all about making the right impressions today.
Aside from the occasional hums of enjoyment, you’re quiet when eating. “You like it, oppa?”, she asks the obvious. “Of course I do, sweetie”, you state the obvious. You expect her to tell you off for calling her by a pet name, but she doesn’t seem to be mad about it. “I have a feeling that you’re trying to get in my pants, oppa”, she chuckles, “are you?”. The unexpectedness makes you cough a few times. “I mean, I’m simply trying to part ways with you properly. If I need to get in your pants for that, I’ll gladly do so”, you whisper to her. Sometimes you feel like you’re being too honest with people, and today is one of those times.
Dahyun taps your thigh a few times as she stands up from her seat, indicating that she wants you to follow her. She then takes you to the empty office where she kissed you last time. “I imagine Xinyu-unnie won’t like this”, she says as she closes the door behind you. You chuckle in response, “well, this was her idea”.
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“What did she say?”
“I told her that I wanted to make it right with you, and she suggested that I spend this weekend with you; we can do whatever we want.”
“Cool—very cool.”
Dahyun plants her hands on your chest as she gets on her toes to kiss you. “That’s your teaser, oppa”, she says, “let’s go back; you still need to finish your food”. You stop Dahyun from turning around by holding her wrist again—there’s something about you and holding girls by their wrists. “Not so fast, cutie”. You lift her up by her thighs and come in for a deep kiss. “I’m sorry for hurting you”, you say softly, “I should’ve realized earlier that I could never cater to two hearts at the same time”. Dahyun shows you a gentle smile, “Trust me, I’m not hurt, oppa. I was more concerned about you and the unnie than myself”.
The selflessness is touching, you must admit, but it doesn’t change the fact that you cheated on Xinyu with Dahyun. “Why did you avoid me last week, then?”, you ask. “You literally go everywhere with your girlfriend, oppa; I didn’t want to risk getting slapped or yelled at in public”, she defends herself. You tell her that she doesn’t need to worry since Xinyu would never do such thing. “No, no, no”, she wiggles a finger in front of your face, “she slapped me at the resort when she found out about us”. Xinyu never told you about it, presumably because she’s embarrassed with herself for being violent. “I’ll ask her about it”. Dahyun wiggles her finger again, “no, there’s no need for that; as far as I’m concerned, I deserved it”.
Dahyun taps your forearms to signal you that she wants to be let down, so you gently lower her to her feet. “Eat your food, oppa”, she says, “you don’t want to make me throw it out, do you?”. No, you don’t. Wasting food is not a good thing—wait, hold on, let’s tease her a bit. “That burger isn’t the only thing I’m eating today, cutie”. “Oh my God, oppa, what the fuck are you saying”, she fans her red cheeks with her hands, “come on, let’s go back”. That’s as good of a reaction as you can get from someone who isn’t your girlfriend. Not only that, but you also did no buildup prior to the dirty talk—guess Dahyun is more perverted than you know.
“Hey, dude, don’t you have a girlfriend already?”. The guy from the other table surprises you as soon as you leave the office room with Dahyun. “Excuse me?”, you ask, unsure of his intentions—just in case he tries anything stupid, you move Dahyun until she’s hidden behind you. “You. Have. A. Girlfriend”, he repeats, emphasizing each word, “why are you still trying to get into my Dahyun-ie’s pants?”. You quickly look over your shoulder and see that Dahyun is shaking her head—even if you’re clueless as to who he is and what his relationship is with her, you can tell that she doesn’t want anything to do with him.
“Alright, let’s—yo, yo, relax, man!“. You’re not sure why the guy thinks that it’s a good idea to reach for Dahyun, but you’re certainly not a fan of it. “Move!”, the guy yells at you, “she’s mine, not yours!”. “Not with that attitude, bro”, you plant your hands on his chest as you try to maintain some distance between Dahyun and this guy—what is his name, anyway. The guy finally realizes that his arms (that are built like shoestring fries) can’t compete with yours, so he gives up trying to push you and retreats. “Fuck you!”, he spits at the floor in front of you and leaves the restaurant, not forgetting to grab his belongings on his way out.
You grab some napkins from the register area and use them to wipe his spit off the floor, ignoring the nastiness of it. “Thank you, oppa”, Dahyun kneels in front of you and helps you wipe the floor, “that guy has been trying so hard to get close to me this past week”.
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“What’s his name?”
“Park Jaewon.”
“Is he from the university?”
Dahyun nods, “I heard that he used to have a crush on Xinyu-unnie, but obviously you got to her first”
“Not to be mean, but I don’t think Xinyu would’ve fallen for him”, you sigh, “how did you know him?”
“Well, he slipped a note with his name and phone number written on it between some cash a few days ago.”
You stand up and look at his table, which he left dirty, “I’ll help you clean that up”. Dahyun grabs your wrist to stop you (the same way you did hers), “no, just go back to your table, please. I’ll take care of this”. You try insisting, but she insists harder, so you do as she asks and go back to your table to finish your food. It doesn’t feel right to just sit back and watch someone clean things up, though.
Dahyun joins you at your table after putting away the empty plate and cup, and you can see that her mood is worse than it was prior to the incident. “You alright, sweetie?”, you try to gauge her mood, “can I do something for you?”. She leans against your shoulder and lets out a sigh, “I really want to be in your arms right now, oppa—you said we can do anything we want, right?”. “Yeah, we can”, you take a sip of your tea, “you don’t live with your parents, do you?”. Dahyun shakes her head, “no, but we need to wait until my mom comes before we go—she should be here soon”.
You and Dahyun wait for Mrs. Seo by exchanging stories from your pasts. She tells you about this guy who fell for her after hearing her sing and how he recommended her to audition to become an idol. “He was so confident that I’d make it, even if I wasn’t the least bit confident about my skills”, she says, enjoying reminiscing about the memory, “I hope he’s doing well, wherever he is now”. You ask if she dated him, and she said yes; they were each other’s first time. “That’s touching”, you smile, “can I ask why you two broke up?”. “I was a fool, oppa”, Dahyun’s smile gradually disappears, “I told him that I was bored of our relationship, even though he had been very kind and loving to me”.
You never dated anyone before Xinyu, and you wonder if boredom is a real threat to relationships. You can only hope that she will never get tired of you, because you’re certainly not ready to see her leave you out of boredom. “Why are you quiet, oppa?”, Dahyun asks, saving you from drowning in your own thoughts. “Sorry, cutie—I was just thinking about Xinyu”. “Tell me something about the both of you, oppa”, Dahyun requests, curious about your life.
“Xinyu is… my everything”, you give her the most honest answer possible, “I know I cheated on her and that’s fucked up, but I really mean it”. Dahyun asks you to continue, so you continue. “I’m not going to deny how attractive she is, but for me, she’s way more than looks and curves; she has been the best girlfriend that I could ever ask for”. She nods at you, seemingly in approval of your impressions of your girlfriend.
“Do you see a future with her, oppa?”
“Yes”, you barely hesitate, “yes, I do.”
“What about me?”
“What about you?”
“Do you see a future with me? Do you think I have a chance to be with you, oppa?”
You try your hardest to crank the gears in your brain to answer her question, and you think that you have one—well, here goes nothing:
“I mean, there’s always a chance for someone to be with someone.”
You’re not sure if the answer is satisfactory (or if it makes sense), but Dahyun nods anyway, so it probably is. “Here’s my advice, oppa: sometimes you need to not be so open to opportunities or possibilities—did you not learn anything from our little adventure?”. That is a great line, and you did not expect her to say something like that. You scratch your temple in cluelessness, “I don’t know what to say, Dahyun-ah”. Heh, not even the narrator knows what to say—that was quite the advice, Seo Dahyun.
Shortly after, salvation comes to your aid in the shape of Mrs. Seo, who is seemingly in a good mood. Her gaze lands at you and Dahyun, so you stand up and promptly bow in respect. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Seo. Have you been well?”, you ask. “Ah, hi, Jisung-ah”, she waves at you, “I’ve been superb—thanks for asking!”. Dahyun taps your thigh, signaling to you that the two of you can now leave the restaurant. “Mrs. Seo, I’d like to go out with Dahyun-ie tonight. Is that okay?”, you ask, trying to be polite. “Dahyun-ie is old enough to make her own decisions, so you should ask her first—if she’s okay with it, then so am I”, she replies.
You quickly look at Dahyun, and she looks right back at you. “Right”, you clear your throat, “we’ll be leaving then. Have a good day, madam”. Dahyun is smart enough to not hold your hand when you’re still inside the restaurant and wait until you’re out of her mom’s sight. “You’re funny, oppa”, she comments, “is that how you ask for permission to go out with a girl?”. “I mean, I was just trying to be polite”, you defend yourself, “come on, cookie; I think we have somewhere to be”.
Dahyun says that she needs to make a quick stop at a convenient store first, so you drive towards the closest one, which is about 5 minutes away from the restaurant. “Wait here”, she says as she gets out of the car. Dahyun’s short stature disappears behind the store’s shelves, so you can’t tell what she’s getting. You’re reminded, however, that you’re supposed to give some things to her, courtesy of Xinyu. You reach towards the floor of the middle row, and you can feel that the plastic bag is there, “oh, nice, I didn’t forget to bring it”.
Dahyun doesn’t take too long to return, as she opens the front passenger door after a few minutes. “Alright, we can go to our apartment, oppa”, she says. “Our?”, you make sure you didn’t mishear. “Oh, sorry—I meant my apartment”, she corrects herself, letting out a chuckle at the end, “I’ll show you the way”.
-
Dahyun sang during the whole ride, thus making the trip feel very short, and now you find yourself sitting in the parking lot of her building. “I believe you’d like to come up with me”, she says. Well, yes, you would; you didn’t come here just to drive away again right after. You offer her your hand, and she holds it without thinking twice. “I have a feeling that today will be the last time I get to spend time with you like this”, she says, her tone that of… sadness? “Cutie, you’re the one who told me to not be so open to all possibilities”, you try to reason with her. “I know”, she sounds defeated right now, “come on, let’s get to my apartment now”.
You find yourself standing in front of her unit after a short walk, and Dahyun uses her other hand to unlock her door for the two of you. “Welcome, oppa”. You enter her apartment and take a look around, “so clean, Dahyun-ah”. “It’s not hard to keep it clean when you don’t have too many things to begin with”, she moves to stand in front of you, “so, what do you want to do now?”.
“Allow me to do this one last time, sweetie”. You bend down slightly and give her a fleeting kiss. “Wait”, she gasps, “please, one more time”. She gets on her tippy toes while her arms wrap around your nape, “please, one more time, oppa”. She’s asking very nicely, so you reward her with a kiss that’s deeper than last time. “I wish you were mine, oppa”, she says, her eyes glassy from unreleased tears, “I love you, Jung Jisung”. You wonder if you should say it back, considering the circumstances and all that. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”, Dahyun protests, “you had no problem saying it back at the resort”. “Sorry”, you inhale deeply as you prepare, “I love you too, Seo Dahyun”. You see that the dams in her eyes have broken, thus releasing tears onto her cheeks. “Thank you, oppa”, she says, “I’m thankful for you, even if you were never really mine”.
Dahyun lets go of you and walks towards her bedroom. “Have a seat, oppa. I’ll be right back”. You sit down on the sofa and lean back as you start re-considering if this peace-making thing is a good idea or not. “Fuck, what if this doesn’t work?”, you palm your forehead, feeling stressed and concerned, “God, help me, please”.
She comes out of her bedroom after a short while, and you see that she has changed into a tight-fit shirt and a short skirt that barely covers half her thighs. She moves to kneel in front of you and plants her hands on your thighs. “What are you doing, cutie?”, you ask, trying to not have a boner. “Seducing you”, she licks her upper lip sexily, “I want to get in your pants, the same way you want to get in mine, you cheater”. “That’s very sudden”, you blink your eyes rapidly in confusion, “why the, uh, office look, then?”. “Don’t think that I never notice how you drool every time Xinyu-unnie wears a shirt”. “Fuck, she knows it—Xinyu is crazy hot in a shirt, too”, you think to yourself.
Your silence confirms that Dahyun is right, hence the giggles. She teases you further by unbuttoning the first few buttons of her shirt, thus exposing more of her chest. “Who’s hotter, oppa: me or your girlfriend?”, she leans forward just enough for you to be able to see her cleavage. You can come up with an answer by comparing each other’s assets, but at the same time, you feel like that’s a waste of time—it’s not like Dahyun will tell Xinyu your answer, is it—so to answer her question: “you’re so fucking hot, Dahyun-ah; I like your proportions”. You don’t care if that sounds weird or stupid; you’re here to do whatever you can to make her happy, so that you’ll feel less guilty about all of this.
Dahyun keeps the smile on her face as she maintains eye contact with you. “Oppa, thank you for liking me”, her voice changes from seductive to cute, “let me do something for you, oppa—let me make you happy”. She digs for your belt and unbuckles it before zipping your jeans down, eager to reach your cock. You notice that she’s struggling to pull your jeans down, so you help her by pulling them down together with your boxers.
“Oppa, you’re bigger than my ex, now that I think about it—you’re long even if you’re not hard”, Dahyun chuckles as she strokes your cock to peak hardness. You’re not sure if you want to be compared to someone by penis size, but it fuels your ego, nonetheless. “Who’s better at sex: me or him?”, you give her a taste of her own medicine. “He liked vanilla more than anything else, so in terms of variety, you’re better than him”, she reminisces. She gives you a peck on the underside of your cock, “my fucking God, I love worshipping big cocks”.
She wants to take you in her mouth, but before she has the chance to do so, you halt her and lift her chin, making her look at you. “Yes, oppa?”, she shows you a very beautiful smile—one that you hope was yours. “Wait, no, I already have Xinyu—not this shit again”. You take a deep breath to gather yourself, “this is very likely our last time doing this, baby; let’s make it a memorable one”. Dahyun leans against your hand, which you notice can fit perfectly in a handful, “you’re such a good boyfriend, oppa—you’re even going out of your way to make it up to me”. You caress her cheek gently, enjoying the softness. “I want to make everyone happy, Dahyun-ah, and I don’t care if it’s stupid or a waste of time”, you say to her. “Maybe not everyone, oppa; you just need a handful of people in your life”, she smiles, “I hope you don’t disappear from my life, because I don’t want to give up on us just yet”.
You realize that you’re back in square one again; Dahyun wants you and hopes to be with you, but you can’t hurt Xinyu for the second time. “One thing at a time, Jung Jisung—one thing at a time. Just look at the girl in front of you and don’t worry about anything else”, says the voice in your head. “Alright, baby”, you give Dahyun a quick peck on the forehead, “do what you want to me”.
After being shown the green light, Dahyun parts her lips and puts your tip in her mouth, and you can’t help but to throw your head back. “That’s so good”, you chirp, “fuck, baby, you’re great at this”. You hear some lewd sound coming from her but pay no mind to it; she’s probably trying to get used to your girth stretching her jaws. With a grunt that’s barely audible, she starts going down on your shaft, slowly but determinedly. You encourage her by placing your hand on the back of her head and petting her gently. You let out a moan after a particular move from her; “fuck, that’s good, baby”.
You know that she’s capable of taking your whole length, so the fact that she’s only taking half of it isn’t exactly satisfactory for you—you are naughty like that. With your palm already sitting on the back of her head, you hold it firmly and pull her towards you, forcing your cock deeper into her mouth, and possibly, her throat. The lewd sounds she’s making right now are music to your ears, making you more eager to reach her throat. “I know you can do it, baby”, you grit your teeth and thrust forward, “oh, fuck—come on, baby”.
Dahyun taps your butt rapidly, indicating that she needs a break, so you retreat from her throat and lean back on the sofa again. “Fuck, oppa”, she coughs a few times, “oh, God, I love it”. “I’m sorry for not asking earlier, baby, so I’ll ask now: do you want it rough?”, you ask in a gentle voice. “Isn’t that obvious already?”, she looks at you with signs of lust drunkenness on her face, “you can be as rough as you want, daddy”.
Well, there it is, the daddy kink that you know and love—there’s something about that word used in a sexual context that arouses you beyond help. You help Dahyun stand up and carry her to her bedroom. “No man has ever been to this bedroom, oppa”, she giggles, “even if I’m not a virgin, I can still have my firsts with you”. “That’s cute, baby”, you comment.
You stop in front of her bed and gently lower her. “For future reference, baby, there are two things that I like seeing girls wear: a sleeveless top, and a shirt”, you say. “I figured, since unnie wears those two things a lot—oh, it’s called a blouse, by the way”, she giggles, “come on, fuck my face again”. You figure that she was the naughty one in her past relationship, because no previously innocent girl would say such thing to her man; “heh, no wonder she was bored of her ex”, you think. While you’re busy thinking, Dahyun has put herself in a position where her head hangs off the edge while the rest of her body is lying flat in bed. “Should be easier to fuck my throat in this position, oppa”, she says, “please, in here”.
“Just so we’re clear, I won’t stop for anything”, you warn her with your cock in hand and ready to go. “I don’t—ghlk”, the sound Dahyun makes when your cock interrupts her speech fuels the fire of lust in your head. “Touch yourself—if you don’t cum with me, I’m taking your ass”. You don’t exactly intend to take her ass, but the threat itself is usually enough to make a girl do as you say—look, Dahyun is touching herself over her panties. “Aren’t you a good girl”, you praise her, “I’ll start now”.
You hold her plump tits and use them as handles while you move your hips back and forth. “Oh, fuck”, you groan; the way her lips wrap perfectly around your cock makes for a really good stimulation for you. You see the way her throat bulges when your cock is fully lodged in there—not even Xinyu has done this with you. “Keep comparing her to your girlfriend, that’ll do you good”, the voice in your head says. You put a palm on her neck and squeeze gently every time it bulges, earning all kinds of sounds from Dahyun. “You’re really good, baby—hah, fuck”, you praise her with heavy breaths.
You’re almost ashamed that you’re already so close to your orgasm, but this is just too good. You let go of her breasts and fix your hands on the bed instead, getting ready to fuck her throat harder and faster. “Be good, baby; I’m so close”. She’s been very good for the last few minutes, but it doesn’t hurt to remind her. You lean forward just a little bit and start fucking her properly, not caring about her well-being. You’re too busy abusing her throat that you don’t notice that Dahyun is no longer touching herself even though her hand is still placed over her pussy. With a grunt and a curse, you blow a load deep in her throat, possibly sending it straight to her stomach. You close your eyes and savor the high of your orgasm while your cock is still lodged in Dahyun’s airway. That is, until you feel weak taps on your thighs, as Dahyun is desperate for air. “You want to breathe, baby?”, you tease, and you see her nod slightly, “one sec, okay?”. You retreat slowly from her throat, and you see that her makeup is now ruined, and her face has spit and tears all over it. “You look beautiful”, you chuckle, “good job, baby”.
She gathers the last bit of her strength and reaches her arms out to you. You’re not sure what she exactly wants, but you take her hand anyway and help her move into a better position. “You… you used me”, she says, her voice feeble, “you fucking used me, and I fucking loved it, daddy”. “You’re so fucking naughty, Dahyun-ah—no wonder your vanilla-loving ex bored you”, you shake your head, amused by her craziness. “I wish he was as naughty as you are, daddy—fuck, I can’t breathe”, she rolls around as she tries to get as much air as possible.
While she’s busy trying to get herself together, you decide to see if she did cum with you as you commanded. You hike up her skirt and see that it’s not too drenched, just some leaky wetness decorating it.
“You didn’t cum, did you?”
“I-I didn’t”
“Have you always been this disobedient?”
“No.”
“Then why didn’t you cum?”
“Because I want you in my ass, daddy.”
Fuck: that’s one more girl who offers you her ass. Again, once again, Xinyu has never done this with you. You pull her into a sitting position in front of you and hold her shoulders. “How sure are you?”, you ask. “One. Million. Fucking. Percent”, she smirks, “I know the unnie is too scared to take you in the ass, so do it to me, daddy”.
“Fine—do you have lube?”
“In the wardrobe, in the bag from the convenience store”
Aha, so that’s why she wanted to make a stop at one earlier.
“You didn’t expect it, did you, daddy?”
You walk towards her wardrobe and see the bag sitting on a rack, next to some panties and bras. You fish the lube out of the bag and right before you close the wardrobe, your eyes land on some ties that are sitting on a lower rack. “Should be able to have fun with this”, you grab one and close the wardrobe behind you.
“Hands”, you say, and Dahyun crosses her hands behind her back. You tie her wrists together firmly and tell her to lie down on the bed while you slather lube on your cock. “This is my first time, daddy”, she reveals, and you almost drop the bottle due to the shock. “Are you sure you want to give it to me?”, you look at Dahyun, who now has her ass in the air. “Think of it as my commitment to never give up on chasing you, no matter how long it’ll take”. You’re not entirely sure why she’s so hell-bent on being with you, and a part of you thinks that she wants to be with someone who’s comparable to her ex, who she has described as someone who is kind and loving, just like you are.
“Fine”. You continue coating your cock with lube so that you won’t hurt her too much. You then move behind her and untie her hands. “Oppa? You okay?”, she asks, unsure of your intentions. “It’s not right to do it like this on your first time, baby”, you put on a gentle smile, “on your back, please; I want to see you”.
Dahyun rolls onto her back and spreads her arms and legs, hoping that you’ll fill the space with your body. “You’re so kind, daddy”, she pecks you on the lips once, “I swear to God, unnie is so lucky to have you”. You want to say that you’re the lucky one, but you don’t feel like talking about your and Xinyu’s relationship with Dahyun, especially when you’re about to fuck her ass. Dahyun airs her annoyance for not getting an answer, but you ignore her, opting to start unbuttoning her blouse instead. “O-oh”, her cheeks start turning red, “y-yes, you can do that, I guess”.
“Take a look at yourself in the mirror and tell me what you see”, you command her. The mirror is right in front of the bed, so Dahyun doesn’t need to get off the bed to look at it. She eyes herself from top to bottom and lets out a wow; “I can see why you like seeing girls in a blouse, daddy—fuck, I look so hot like this”. You chuckle, “told ‘ya”.
You pull her backwards gently by her shoulder until she’s lying flat on the bed again. “One last time: are you sure you want to get fucked in the ass?”, you make sure she hasn’t changed her mind. “Take me, daddy”, she guides your hands towards her skirt, indirectly giving you the green light, “even if you can’t be mine, you’ll be the only person to be in my ass”. “Sweetheart, you deserve to be with someone who loves you and you only—I’m not the perfect guy that you think I am; trust me”, you start pulling her skirt down by the waistband, “that being said, let’s make this a memorable one, hey?”.
Your hands coincidentally land on her thighs, and only now do you notice how soft they are. She starts moaning when you run your hands back and forth on her thighs. “You like my thighs, daddy?”. “They’re so soft, baby”, you pinch them lightly, “they feel perfect in my hands”. “I don’t know—oh, fuck, what are you doing, daddy”, Dahyun’s words are cut off when you touch her pussy over the wet panties, “am I not so perfect for you, daddy? Oh, fuck, I’m so wet”.
You ask if you can pull down her panties, and she gives you permission with a nod. “You’re really wet, aren’t you, baby?”, you tease her by putting a finger on her nub and pressing down on it, “you’re wet for your senior’s boyfriend”. “Oh, oh, God—y-you’re supposed to be mine, not hers!”, Dahyun screams when she feels more stimulation on her nub, “oh, please, just fuck me already”.
You move to sit in between her legs and aim your cock at… which entrance? “She wanted me to take her ass, but fuck, her pussy is so tempting right now”, you try to quickly come to a decision, “ah, fuck it; pussy first, ass later”. You guide your cock towards her pussy and go deep right away, earning a long and loud moan from Dahyun. “Oh, fuck, daddy”, her breathing is irregular thanks to your cock that’s stretching her, “w-why not my ass? FUCK!”. She lets out a scream when she feels you hitting her deepest spots. “Your pussy is too good to miss out on, baby”, you say, and you wonder if that was too vulgar a sentence—perhaps misogynistic, even.
You fall forwards onto her body without letting up your pace, eager to bust again. “Let’s go, baby”, your breathing is becoming irregular too, “hah, fuck, you’re so good—how are you so good”. Dahyun doesn’t need to answer that—it’s not like she can, anyway; she’s too busy moaning and screaming. “Oppa, I—”, she interrupts herself with a scream when your cock hits a particular spot, “fuck, please let me cum with you”.
You know how you can help her achieve that: by putting her in a mating press—your favorite position to fuck Xinyu in. She appears to know what to do, as shown by how she’s holding her legs back to give you all the space you need. “Yes, daddy, yes”, she approves of your actions, “please, I’m so close, daddy”. You don’t know how close you are, but that’s of little importance right now; you’re trying to send Dahyun flying across the finish line. “Cum for me, baby—be a good girl for me”, you say with troubled breaths.
It's as if your words had control over her body; she announces that she’s about to explode shortly after you told her to cum and be a good girl. Unlike at the resort, she can scream to her heart’s content now (fuck the neighbors, by the way). You retreat from her warmth while her orgasm takes her to the 7th floor of the sky. You lie next to her and pet her head gently, throwing praises at her as you do.
“Wait here, okay? I have some stuff for you”. You get off the bed and get dressed; you want to give Xinyu’s parcel to Dahyun now, just in case you forget tomorrow. When you walk out of her unit, you see one of her neighbors—a female, a bit older than you probably—standing in front of her door, as if waiting for you. “Ah, you must be Dahyun-ie’s new boyfriend”, she says, “please keep it down, okay? It’s been a long week, and I want to rest”. “I’m sorry, miss; we’ll keep it in mind”, you smile and bow in respect before continuing your way to your car—a part of your brain wonders if the lady heard Dahyun say “daddy”, and the probability of it makes your cheeks turn red.
You quickly fetch the parcel and some water bottles and make your way back to Dahyun’s unit. You saw her unlock the door, so you know what her passcode is. “0, 8, 0, 1, 0, 3”, you mumble as you press each number, and the lock unlatches right after, “right, cool”. You put the bag on the sofa before checking up on her—you also make the time to check your phone, in case Xinyu texted or something, and apparently there’s none. “I wonder what’s going on in your head, sweetie”, you say to yourself, letting out a sigh after, “right, need to tend to Dahyun-ie”.
You open the bedroom door and find her asleep, still naked and sweaty. You walk back to the sofa and grab some water for her. “Sweetie”, you poke her tummy to wake her up, “I have some water for you”. “I’m tired, oppa”, she says in a weak voice. You help her sit and guide the bottle to her mouth, and she parts her lips slightly to let water into her mouth. “Why are you not naked, oppa? Are we done? Do you not want to cum?”, she fires a barrage of questions at you.
“You’re tired, though.”
“No, I’m not”
“Oh, please, you were literally sleeping.”
“No, I wasn’t. I was just waiting for you to come back from God-knows-where.”
You realize you can’t defeat her when she’s this insistent; “okay, fine—how do you want me now?”
“I should be asking that question—how do you want me, oppa?”
You flip her over and drag her by the legs until she’s bent over the edge of the bed. “Do you mind if I do it in this position?". “Not at all”, she says, “fuck me again, oppa”. As you’re getting undressed, you’re reminded of your little meeting with her neighbor. “Sweetie, the lady next door heard us—she told us to keep it down”, you forward the message to Dahyun. “Lady next door? Haseul-unnie?”, she laughs, “as if she doesn’t get loud every time her fiancé is banging her in the ass”. You’re perplexed, “how do you know she was taking him in the ass?”. “How can I not?”, she says, “she keeps screaming you’re in my ass every single time they have anal”.
Well, shit, now you’re not sure if your boner is from imagining Miss Haseul taking her fiancé in the ass or if it’s from Dahyun bending over in front of you, but since you can’t fuck Miss Haseul, you’ll use it to fuck Dahyun instead. You clear your throat and shake your head to get your focus back. You then hold your cock in one hand and hold Dahyun’s waist in the other. “Are we ready?”, you ask, and she hums in response.
Dahyun jolts at the first contact; “gently, please; I’m sensitive”. You nod—even though she can’t really see you—and slowly ease your way into her pussy until you’re fully enveloped by her, earning soft moans from her at the end. “So big, so big”, she mindlessly chants, “how are you so big, oppa?”. “Dad’s genes”, you grit your teeth thanks to how tight Dahyun feels post-orgasm, “fuck, I can’t take this anymore”.
With the way she’s gripping you, you just want to keep pounding away until you bust—speaking of busting, you haven’t asked where she wants your cum, so you take the chance to do so now. “I’m fertile”, is the answer you get, and as amazing as it is to cum inside, cumming inside a fertile girl doesn’t sound like the best idea right now, so you take a mental note to pull out when it’s time to bust.
You close your eyes and slap her butt a few times before slamming into her with all your might. “Fuck, I’m close”, you announce. You’re shocked when you hear Dahyun scream from the top of her lungs, so you open your eyes and make out of the situation: she’s putting her index finger in her ass while your hips are crashing into her butt cheeks. “Here, I’ll help”, you coat your index finger with your spit and shove it into her rear, stretching it further. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!”, she can only scream out profanities as you’re stimulating her in two holes at once, and you must admit, this is very naughty and arousing at the same time.
You want to increase the chance of having Dahyun cum with you, so you snake your other hand around her thighs and start rubbing her nub recklessly while still fucking her ass with your finger—fingers, rather; you’re forcing your middle finger into her rear. “Fuck, that hurts so good—please, more”, she says, her voice weak from exhaustion—perhaps overstimulation, too. You’re given the idea to spread your two fingers, the same way you’d spread them when fingering a girl’s pussy. “IT HURTS, OPPA! IT HURTS!”, she reacts the exact way you hoped. “If you can’t—oh, fuck—if you can’t take this, you can’t take my penis”, you say while your fingers are still making scissoring motions in her ass.
You almost failed to notice that you’re about to cum because you were so busy playing with Dahyun’s asshole—luckily for you, however, your brain manages to remind you in time. You retreat from her pussy and her ass while yelling out a profanity, and true enough, you start spurting cum all over her butt cheeks, some of them dripping down her thighs. While all of this is happening, she’s squirting like a fountain and her legs are shaking. With the last bit of your energy, you help her get comfortable and join her in bed after for a quick cuddle.
“We’re done, baby”, you say after getting yourself together, “we can rest now”. You can feel how fast Dahyun’s heart is beating and how sweaty she is on your skin, and you’d like to think that this is a sign of a job well done. “I-I’m tired”, she weakly says, “you used me like I was a cheap slut”. Truthfully, that doesn’t sound like a good thing, but she says that it is—she was trying to imply how rough you were. “Y-you haven’t fucked my ass y-yet”, she unnecessarily reminds you. “With—hah, fuck—with the way you reacted to my fingers, I’m not putting my penis in there”, you deflect, “let’s just rest for now, please”.
-
Bzzt bzzt
Bzzt bzzt
In your sleep, you hear your phone, that’s sitting on the bedside table, vibrating, so you grab it. The way your phone lights up in the dark bedroom makes you squint, but you manage to see that it’s Xinyu—she’s calling you in the middle of the night, presumably because she can’t sleep. You carefully move Dahyun off your body and sneak out of the bedroom to pick up the call.
“Hello, this is Jung Jisung.”
“Hello, this is Zhou Xinyu.”
“Are you okay, baby?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I can’t sleep, oppa. It feels weird to not have you in bed with me.”
“I’m sorry, baby”
“I’m starting to regret suggesting you this idea, actually—when are you coming home, oppa?”
You move your phone from your ear so that you can see the time: 01:10, it says.
“Probably in a few hours, babe”
“Ugh, fine”, Xinyu airs her annoyance, “I won’t sleep until you’re here.”
“No, please don’t do that”, you air your disapproval, “please try to sleep, baby—look, I’ll come home before 9.”
“Don’t worry about me, oppa. I’ll just turn on my laptop and study or something—you should go back to Dahyun-ie.”
You’re starting to feel really bad, but your sleepover at Dahyun’s place isn’t quite done yet. “Is that Xinyu-unnie?”, Dahyun’s voice startles you. “Oh my God, fuck”, you sigh, “yes, this is Xinyu—babe, Dahyun-ie is here”. Xinyu asks you to put her on speaker, so you do so.
“Unnie, hello”
“Hi, Dahyun-ah. How are you?”
“I’m tired, unnie”
“Did oppa fuck you too hard?”
Dahyun looks at you as she tries to come up with an answer.
“K-kind of.”
You hear Xinyu laugh over the phone, probably amused with you and Dahyun.
“Well, I’m glad, because otherwise all of this is a waste. Anyway, I’ll go now—I’ll find something to do.”
“You should try going to sleep, baby”, you say to Xinyu, hoping that she’ll listen to you.
��No you, no sleep”, Xinyu says, “Dahyun-ah, ask oppa about a peace package—I have some stuff for you. Goodbye, you two.”
Xinyu hangs up the phone right after, leaving you with Dahyun in the dim living room, in the middle of the night. “What peace package, oppa?”, she asks. You point at the plastic bag on the other side of the sofa and tell her to open it. “What is—oh my God, chocolate? Chips? These are my favorites, oppa”, she digs through the bag and sees the small, folded piece of paper sitting in the bottom, “what is this?”. She unfolds the paper and starts reading its content out loud.
“Dear Seo Dahyun
This is Zhou Xinyu, the girlfriend of Jung Jisung.
First, I want to make it clear that I don’t hate you. I understand why you fell in love with my boyfriend, and while I can’t let you steal him from me, I’m letting him see you one last time so that the two of you can “break up” properly.
Now, I’m sure you understand why I don’t want to lose my boyfriend; the things that made you fall in love with him are the same ones that make me keen on keeping him mine.
Lastly, I’d like to apologize for slapping you at the resort. I was just so angry to hear that the two of you had been fooling around behind me. Once again, I do not hate you. I’ve forgiven you the same way I’ve forgiven my boyfriend.
With love,
Xinyu”
Dahyun folds the paper into its previous shape and puts it back in the bag. “How kind”, she says, “yeah, thanks, unnie—thank you as well, oppa”. She takes your hand and pulls, signaling to you to stand up, so you do so, and she wraps her arms around your body. “I love you so much, oppa”, she softly says, “can we go back to bed? We still have time until you need to go home”.
You climb onto the bed, and Dahyun climbs onto your body. “Oppa”, she taps your chest lightly, “I don’t want to go to work tomorrow—I mean, today”. You were about to ask, “what work”, but you’re promptly reminded that her parents run a restaurant, and just like them, she can’t really take a break. “Okay, so?”. “Please fuck me again so that I can tell my parents that I’m tired, because I will be”. She moves to sit on your lap and starts stroking you to get you hard. “Please, oppa. One more round”, she sounds very desperate, “this will be our last, I promise”. You sigh, “okay, fine; one more time”.
Dahyun lifts her butt off your lap and guides your cock into her pussy, moaning softly as she does. “Your girlfriend is so lucky, oppa; she gets to get fucked by this big cock of yours all the time—oh, fuck, yes”, she says. “We always say that—oh, fuck”, you’re cut off when she rolls her hips, the same way Xinyu usually does it, “we’re lucky to be with each other—oh, fuck, you’re so good at this”. “S-stop thinking about her, oppa”, she protests, and you want to remind her that she was the one who brought it up, but that’ll probably kill the mood, so you zip it and just enjoy the moment.
As she’s bouncing up and down on your cock, you notice how her tits are also bouncing, as if teasing you. You move your hands from her waist and put it on her tits, playing with them to your heart’s content. Dahyun approves of this, placing her hands over yours, “you like them, oppa? You like how perfect they are for you?”. You really want to put them in your mouth, so you move to sit and bend forward until your mouth can reach them. “Oh, yes, daddy”, the daddy kink makes a return when you start sucking on her tits, “just stay with me and don’t come back to your girlfriend at this point”. You think that it’s just heat-of-the-moment thing, so you let it pass; you don’t want to keep bringing up the same thing repeatedly.
“Oh, fuck”, Dahyun stops abruptly after a few minutes, the exhaustion apparent on her face, “I’m tired, daddy; fuck me, please”. Fucking her from below is exhausting, and you know you’ll run out of energy before she can cum, so you ask her to get off and bend over the edge of the bed like earlier.
Once she’s comfortable with her position, you stand behind her and take a good look at her curves—fuck, that butt looks very plump and tasty. You gather your might and spank her hard, earning a scream of pain and surprise. “Oh, that hurts, daddy”, she whines, rubbing the spot you slapped to cope with the pain. Seeing that she’s distracted, you take other hand and slap the other butt cheek, thus earning another scream. “Fuck, that hurts, daddy—please, it hurts”, she whines again.
You commit yourself to not think too much this time, since it’ll be the last time you’re doing this. Dahyun has proved to be able to take minimal intrusion in the rear, so you slather spit on your index and middle finger and slowly ease them into her ass. “Fuck! Fuck!”, she lets out screams due to the stimulation. You use your free hand to press down on the back of her head, “quiet, you—remember what your neighbor said”. “Y-yes, daddy”, her voice is muffled, but it’s still loud enough for you to hear.
“Fuck, where is the lube?”, you look around the dark bedroom for the white bottle, “ah, shit, it’s behind me”. “One second, baby”, you move into a position that allows you to reach it, barely able to grab it. The sound of the cap snapping open doesn’t seem to reach her ears, as she’s still letting out moans and grunts from the ass play. You slather lube recklessly all over your cock and throw the bottle onto the bed after. Dahyun lets out a sigh of relief when you remove your fingers from her rear—if only she knew what’s coming next. With your lubed-up cock in hand, you spread her butt and guide your cock towards her rear. She lets out a surprised gasp when she feels the tip of your cock on her entrance, “are you going to fuck my ass, daddy? Are you going to pop my last cherry?”. Without saying a word, you move your hips forward and force your way into her ass, and Dahyun can’t do anything else aside from pressing her face into the bed. The tightness makes you grit your teeth, “you’ve never put anything in here, have you? Fuck, you’re so tight, baby”.
You lean forward and plant your hands in the bed, eager to fuck Dahyun’s ass into the morning. “Remember: don’t be too loud”, you remind her. “Y-yes, daddy—OH, FUCK!”. Well, there she goes, screaming from the top of her lungs when your cock is fully in her ass—so much for “keeping it down”. You slowly move your cock back and forth in her ass until you think that she’s gotten used to it, because even if you’re impatient, you don’t want to hurt her more than this.
“Nghh, nghh”, is all the sound that she makes as your cock hits the deepest points of her ass with every pump. “You’re doing great, baby”, you praise her, “fuck, you’re doing so fucking great”. “I’m yours, I’m yours”, she chants softly, “fuck my ass, daddy; make it hurt”. You retreat as far back as you can without pulling out and slam roughly into her ass in one go, earning another scream of pain. “Oh, please, make it hurt, daddy”, she eggs you on. “Bet”.
You straighten your back again because you figure that you’ll be able to thrust harder like this. You match the rhythm of your spanks with your thrusts, making sure that she’s well-stimulated. “Daddy, daddy”, she asks for your attention, “you’re stretching my ass, daddy”. Well, yes, you can see that, but it’s fine; sometimes—if not most of the time—stating the obvious during sex is good.
Taking someone in the ass from behind (especially during your first time) proves to be difficult, and Dahyun is learning that first-hand. She can’t control how hard and deep you’re fucking her, as she’s just stuck lying in bed as you’re stretching her ass with your shaft. “Fuck, it hurts—it hurts so fucking bad”, the thought runs in her head endlessly as you pump her ass (seemingly) endlessly, “c’mon, Seo Dahyun, you can do this—make him happy”. When there is will, there is way; Dahyun, to your surprise, starts fucking herself on your cock, matching the timing with your thrusts.
“FUUUUCK! OH, OH, FUCK! IT HURTS! DADDY, PLEASE!”, she’s no longer holding in her screams, and you’re starting to feel concerned. You pull your cock out of her ass and move to soothe her, feeling apologetic. “I’m sorry, baby—fuck, I’m so sorry”, you softly run a palm up and down her back, “we can stop right here, baby”. You help her get on the bed, and she instantly squirms around while palming her asshole, seemingly in so much pain.
This is the problem with having little experience, because you’re now clueless as to how you can help her cope with the pain. “Daddy, it hurts”, tears start flowing out of her eyes and onto her cheeks, “it hurts so much, daddy”. “Fuck, I’m so sorry for that, baby”, you pull her in for a hug, feeling very regretful—sure, it was her idea and all that, but considering that: (a) a penis doesn’t belong in someone’s ass, (b) it was her first time, and (c) you were doing it rough, the burden of guilt is equally heavy—if not heavier—on you. “Did-did you like that, though? Y’know, taking my cherry?”, she still has the energy to think about your pleasure—how touching. Truthfully, you’re not sure what to say to that, but she probably wants to hear you say yes, so you say yes; “I did, baby; you’re so fucking amazing”. “I-I’m glad—oh, fuck, my ass is on fire”, she replies, still rubbing her ass with her palm.
-
“Huh? What time is it?”
The sun is up, its light filling the bedroom where you and Dahyun are in. You look to your left and see that she’s still sleeping peacefully, and you’re reminded of the situation before you fell asleep with her. You spread her butt cheeks gently and check on her asshole. “Doesn’t seem to be wounded or anything—fuck, I hope she’s fine”, you think to yourself as you inspect the result of your, uh, work.
You get off the bed and grab your phone to see the time; 8:20, it says—only a bit more to go before you can go home to your girlfriend. Your brain wants to get a shower, and you almost forgot that this isn’t your apartment. “Oh, fuck, need to wake her up”. You poke her cheek repeatedly to wake her up, and you see that she’s gradually opening her eyes. “Good morning, baby”, you greet her with a smile and cheek rubs, “do you want to shower?”. She nods slightly, “help me shower, oppa”.
You carry her in your arms and walk towards the bathroom with her—oh, hey, she has a bathtub. You open the toilet and make her sit on it. “Are you okay? Is your butt still in pain?”, you ask while kneeling in front of her, concerned about her well-being. She shakes her head, “I think I’m fine, oppa—fuck, you were going crazy last night”. “Well, it was more like this morning but yes”, you try to make a little joke, “I’m so sorry for that, baby”. She shakes her head again, “no, you don’t have to; I offered you my ass and you took it—the responsibility is mine as much as it is yours”.
You give her a peck before standing up and observing the layout of the bathroom; there’s a shower on the wall above the bathtub. “How do you usually shower, baby?”, you ask. She tells you that she usually just stands up in the bathtub under the shower and lets water run all over her body. “Let’s use the bathtub today, oppa”, she suggests, so you plug the drain and let water the tub for a few minutes.
You kneel in front of her again and show her a smile, “hi, baby.”
“Hi, oppa”, she returns the smile twice as sweetly to you, “you’re having a boner.”
“Yes, I can feel that—just my morning wood; no big deal.”
“What about my first time having anal, oppa? Is that a big deal, or no?”
“Of course, baby; every first time is a big deal.”
“Maybe I’ll start training my ass after this. I want to be able to take guys in the ass.”
“I mean, your body, your choice—but I’d say don’t do it too often; just the thought of you forcing things up your ass makes my heart ache.”
“Says you, who literally fucked my ass”, she chuckles, “but sure, I get your point. You’re such a sweet guy, oppa.”
Dahyun comes in for a kiss, and you welcome her warmly. “Even if I can’t have you for now, oppa, I will always be ready for you to come running to me”, she says with hopefulness in her voice. “I’m not cheating on Xinyu ever again, but yes, I get your point”, you say with a smile, hoping that it sounds rational to her.
Dahyun sees that the tub is decently filled with water, so she tells you to add some body wash into it and mix it around. “Let’s have a bath, oppa”, she says. You lift her and gently place her in the bathtub before joining her in it. “Let me take care of you, oppa”. She moves to sit on your lap and takes you in her pussy for a quick morning sex. “Fuck, it’s way easier to have normal sex”, she says between moans. “It was your idea to have anal sex, baby”, you remind her, “you’re such a crazy girl”. “I know—now quiet, please; I want to ride you”.
-
Now that the both of you are fully dressed, you’re now ready to say goodbye to her. You ask her to sit on the sofa and get on one knee in front of her. “Baby, listen to me, please��, you hold her hand and call her by a pet name one last time, “thank you for loving me, seriously. I know that we can’t be together for now, but I can feel how sincere your love is. You really deserve to be with someone who loves you unconditionally”. Dahyun accepts your kind words with a precious smile. “Thank you for everything, oppa. If you’re really not meant for me, then I hope that one day I’ll find someone like you”, she says, her eyes glassy. “No, baby; you deserve someone that’s better than me”.
You get on your feet, and Dahyun does the same. She wraps an arm around yours as you make towards her front door. “Can I walk with you to your car, oppa?”, she asks. “You don’t have to, baby—you should just rest”, you stop at the doorway and look at her, “goodbye, Dahyun-ah. It’s been such a pleasure”. “Goodbye, oppa. I’ll see you around”, she replies. You come in for a quick kiss before walking out of her apartment and closing the door behind you.
-
As soon as you enter your apartment, you see that Xinyu is sleeping at the dinner table. She hears your footsteps and starts opening her eyes slowly. “Welcome home, cheater”, she says weakly, “now I can finally sleep in peace”. You know what she means, and you lift her from her seat and carry her to the bedroom. You gently lower her onto the bed before reaching for the AC remote. She’ll be sleeping through the afternoon, so in case it gets hot, you turn on the AC for her. “Good morning, oppa”, she says, “how was it?”. “I’d like to think that it was successful”, you pull her into your arms, “she’s fine, I’m fine, and you’re fine”. “Did you—”, a yawn cuts her off, “did you cum in her?”. “No, I didn’t”, you say, “she said she was fertile, and I didn’t want to risk getting her pregnant”. “Good thinking”, Xinyu pecks your cheek, “okay, I’ll sleep now—see you in a few hours, oppa”.
#girl group smut#kpop smut#triples smut#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#male reader#smut#male reader smut
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Let’s Ditch (JJ Maybank x Reader)
Word count: 1.4K
Summary: JJ convinces you to ditch school with him and go out on the boat, only for the two of you to get stranded
Tags: fluff, friends to lovers, love confessions, kissing, just some overall sweetness
A/N: first fic of the year 🫶 wanted to start off on a nice note with some simple fluff
OBX masterlist + main masterlist
“Please, please, please—”
“Oh my god, JJ, fine!” you agreed, finally breaking.
He’d spent the last few minutes doing everything in his power to persuade you to ditch the rest of school and go out on the HMS Pogue with him.
After nothing else worked (asking nicely, bargaining, bribing), he resorted to begging. Relentlessly.
And, just as JJ had hoped, he wore you down before you could go to your next class.
“You’re the best!” He smiled, beaming with victory.
Sneaking out of the school was easier than it should’ve been. The two of you simply walked off campus and found where JJ parked his bike.
He put on his sunglasses and grinned at you. You rolled your eyes and bit back a smile. You were already having fun, you always did with JJ.
You climbed on, sitting behind JJ. You locked your arms around his waist when he told you to hold on tight. He revved the engine then took off well over the speed limit, leaving the school behind. He was going so fast he had to hold onto his hat with each turn, and the wind drowned out your laughter.
It was a short ride to the Chateau, and soon enough the two of you were hopping off. JJ left his bike in the yard and jogged to catch up to you, swinging an arm over your shoulders. Your face heated up as he hurried you both down the dock.
You lifted your hand to shield the sun from your eyes, watching JJ get the boat in the water.
“Does John B know we’re here?” you wondered, other hand falling to your hip.
“C’mon, you know he doesn’t mind!” JJ called back, hopping on to the boat. “Let’s go!”
That wasn’t exactly a “yes”, but you still stepped on, taking JJ’s hand to do so.
“Such a gentleman,” you commented lightly.
He responded, “Only for you.”
JJ went to the wheel, driving the two of you away from the dock and out into the marshes.
The further you got, the more relieved you grew that you were out of that boring school. You did your best to take it seriously because it was supposed to be important, but you missed summer break already.
“Can I drive?” you asked after a while, forgetting the story you’d been in the middle of telling JJ.
“Of course,” JJ said dramatically. He stepped back from the wheel, making way for you. He took off his sunglasses and shoved them onto your face. “You might want these.”
You laughed, adjusting them.
“Thank you very much.”
JJ grinned. “No problem, Captain.”
“Captain?” You hummed. “I like the sound of that.”
That was your last comment before you went full throttle. JJ held on tight, turning his red cap backwards to keep it from flying off his head. You had to grip the wheel tight to stay standing, both of you whooping and hollering at the speed.
Except, you didn’t get far. In a matter of minutes the boat was sputtering to a stop. That quickly killed the yells and grins of adrenaline.
“So, um, we’re out of gas,” the blonde declared when he returned from checking the tank.
You crossed your arms and leaned back against the wheel, knowing you weren’t going anywhere.
“Well, how much was in it when you first checked?”
JJ looked guilty. The fuel gauge was busted and John B had to get it fixed, so recently you’ve been having to check manually.
“Um, about that… I might have not checked.”
“You didn’t check?”
“Did you see me check?”
“So, let’s recap,” you started, holding your hands out. “You convince me to go on the boat and then you forget to check if it had any gas in it?”
“That pretty much covers it, yeah,” JJ replied to your sass with an equal amount.
“A+ planning,” you quipped.
“Wow, my first A+,” he joked, and you couldn’t smother the grin that started to form. “I’m sorry about the gas—we can call Pope, see if he can come bring us some.”
“It’s okay,” you assured him. “Although there’s no way Pope is leaving class early to rescue us.”
As it would turn out, you were right. You got lucky when you called him because he was between classes, so he actually answered. However, he said he could come get you but he wasn’t going to leave school early. That was after he called JJ a bad influence on you.
JJ couldn’t argue with that.
It was close to the end of the school day, so you wouldn’t have to wait too long for him, but it would still be over an hour.
You ended up sitting on the deck facing one another, trying to keep low to avoid the sun. You went back and forth talking about anything and everything and you had to admit, it was better than being in class. Then again, being with JJ was one of your favorite things, so it wasn’t a fair competition.
“No way you think C.H.U.D. is the best horror movie,” you argued when he brought it up.
“I’m pretending I didn’t hear you say that,” JJ shot back. “Why do you think I bring it up all the time?”
“Okay but that doesn’t make it a masterpiece just ‘cause you talk about it. That’s like saying being a mortician is the best job ever just because Pope always talks about it.”
JJ’s smile grew and you gave him a look.
“What?” you wondered, noticing the expression.
“This is nice,” JJ said, causing you to laugh.
“Arguing about movies is nice?”
“Well, yeah. It’s been so long since we’ve hung out,” JJ said with a shrug. Clearly it had been on his mind. You opened your mouth to counter, but he continued. “I mean, I see you everyday because of school and stuff, but I feel we haven’t really hung out just us in a while.”
You frowned a little. “It’s not like I don’t want to, it’s just been a busy month…”
“I know, I don’t blame you,” JJ assured. “I just miss you.” He hesitated before continuing. “A lot. And I was gonna tell you all that today, but I didn’t imagine it being because we were stuck out here getting sunburned.”
You gave him a curious look. “You didn’t have to bring me out here just to tell me you wanted to hang out more.”
JJ snorted. “It wasn’t just that,” he revealed. “I wanted it to be just us and not have an excuse to back out…”
“Back out? You’re not gonna push me overboard, are you?” you teased, and you and JJ both laughed. “Because I can swim, y’know.”
“Not my plan at all, but nice to know that’s where your mind goes.”
You relaxed with the taunting as you asked, “So what is it, then?”
JJ fiddled with his hands, eyes flicking away from yours for a minute. You watched him carefully, wondering where he was going with this.
Before he could continue, you heard a boat approaching. You got to your feet and so did JJ. The two of you spotted Heyward’s boat with Pope on board heading towards you.
“Hey there!” you called, waving to Pope. He waved back. You looked at JJ and saw his expression shift. “Wait, what were you gonna tell me?” He bit his lip. “Come on, don’t back out. You said you weren’t going to, so what is it?”
“Right, okay,” he said, getting a bit antsy. “What I was gonna ask is… will you go out with me?”
Your brows shot up.
“Like a date?”
JJ smiled sheepishly. “Exactly like a date.”
“Okay,” you answered, a smile overtaking your features. You didn’t even hesitate.
“Okay…” he repeated, like he couldn’t quite believe it. “Okay—yeah. Awesome!”
The two of you chuckled at his excitement, and you stepped closer to him.
A silence fell over the two of you and you knew you were thinking the same thing.
JJ leaned in to kiss you, and you met him halfway. Your lips fit together perfectly, but it didn’t last long.
“Hey guys!” Pope called, pulling the boat up next to the HMS Pogue. You and JJ turned to look up at him, seeing the amused face of your friend and a gas can in his hand. “Am I interrupting something or do you still need rescuing?”
You and JJ exchanged a look before JJ replied.
“Both.”
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SEPFEMBER 2024 PROMPTS LIST
HERE WE ARE! AT LONG LAST! THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN (HOPEFULLY) WAITING FOR! GIRL MONTH!
I honestly can't believe this is actually happening. This event was a shower thought a few months ago.
Here's a recap of the event: to participate, make at least one fanwork of any variety during September that features a woman or women from the Zelda franchise as the main character/s. All Linksmeets are welcome in this challenge, as well as general LoZ fans!
Before I drop the prompts list for those who are looking for a little direction, I'd like to mention that I have made an AO3 COLLECTION FOR THIS EVENT. It's open and unmoderated so you can add your works to it freely. And if you post on tumblr, please tag #sepfember !! I'll be scrolling through the tag every day looking for things to reblog and gush about 👀
If you have any questions at all about this event, or you want to chat about it, my askbox is open! I will also respond to comments and reblogs of this post.
Now, onto the prompts. Disclaimer: you DON'T have to use all/any of these prompts, or only create things for certain characters on their featured day. This list is just a GUIDE for those who want it. If you have other plans, go with your heart!
At the end of the day, this is a celebration, and all that matters is that you have fun. I hope some of you will join me next month in giving our girls some time in the spotlight, but if you can't, that's okay! There's no pressure! This is just a passion project of mine, really, and I am overjoyed that people are interested 💛💛💛
(apologies in advance for the terrible quality of these pics and the equally terrible commentary. i thought it would be funny. also, i've never had to come up with a prompts list before and it shows.)
DAY 1: SKYWARD SWORD ZELDA + PURPOSE
(we start at the beginning of course 💛)
DAY 2: MARIN + WASH
(it was SO hard to find a screenshot of her that didn't have link in it. they're both cute but this ain't about him.)
DAY 3: MEDLI + GIFT
(i didn't know she played the harp until i saw this screenshot! i obviously have a lot to learn.)
DAY 4: TWILIGHT PRINCESS ZELDA + FREEZE
(how creepy does she look here?! so awesome)
DAY 5: HILDA + GHOST
(SUCH a good character for real. she has depth!!!! she has a thematic purpose!!!)
DAY 6: URBOSA + LOSE
(two words: LIGHTNING POWERS ⚡⚡⚡)
DAY 7: SPIRIT TRACKS ZELDA + MISTAKE
(babygirl you are 2 entire pixels.)
DAY 8: FI + ORDER
(oh she is everything to me)
DAY 9: MIDNA + SWORD
(she looks so soulful right now)
DAY 10: HYRULE WARRIORS ZELDA + SUMMON
(what a FIRE camera angle??? her armour is so impractically attached but SHE HAS A SWORD‼️)
DAY 11: GODDESSES OF HYRULE + EYES
(hylia, din, nayru, farore, the list goes on...)
DAY 12: ZORA PRINCESSES + TRUST
(mipha, ruto... poor suckers... it can't be fun, falling for link...)
DAY 13: OCARINA OF TIME ZELDA | SHEIK + FATE
(note: I personally hc this character as a trans man, but since this isn't explicitly confirmed in-game and might not be shared with everyone, I've given them a celebration day anyway. you are free to do what you wish.)
DAY 14: MALON + GUARD
(she is adorable. look at her)
DAY 15: IMPA + BOUND
(HOTTEST MOST SEXY MOST BADASS WOMAN IN THE FRANCHISE ‼️‼️‼️ I LOVE YOU IMPA YOU ARE PERFECT. SHUT UP I DEFINITELY DON'T PLAY FAVOURITES—)
DAY 16: FOUR SWORDS ADVENTURES ZELDA + PORTAL
(i loved her in the fsa manga. she's barely in it but STILL. go read it.)
DAY 17: FAIRIES + TIRED
(the great fairies, navi, ciela, tatl, proxi...)
DAY 18: TETRA + LEGACY
(isn't she KICKASS?!)
DAY 19: EPONA + BONE
(our lovely loyal girl 🥰)
DAY 20: A LINK BETWEEN WORLDS ZELDA + HOME
(SHE IS SUCH A GOOD PARALLEL TO HILDA PLEASSSSSE)
DAY 21: SARIA + WISH
(a classic character! isn't this picture so peaceful)
DAY 22: BOTW/AOC/TOTK ZELDA + PEACE
(SHE IS EVERYTHING TO ME. SCREAMING CLAWING CRYING. MY DARLING, YOUR FANARTISTS WERE THE ONES TO DRAW ME INTO THE ZELDA FANDOM. I HOPE I CAN RETURN THE FAVOUR ONE DAY)
DAY 23: CIA + LANA + STUDY
(technically, she's one person. between the two of them they certainly only wear enough clothes for one person... )
DAY 24: ARYLL + HUG
(sister to the hero! but what's her story?)
DAY 25: ECHOES OF WISDOM ZELDA + ARREST
(YEAHHHHHHHHH GIRL MONTH GIRL DAY GIRL GAME!!!)
DAY 26: CD-i ZELDA + HOLIDAY
(hehheehehehe. i bet you weren't expecting her. neither was i tbh)
DAY 27: PURAH + FIRE
(SHE'S CLEVER! I LOVE CLEVER WOMEN!)
DAY 28: ILIA + ERUNE + MEND
(listen. i know erune is a very niche character - she literally only exists in the four swords manga - but consider. i love her)
DAY 29: ALTTP/OOS/OOA/LA ZELDA + MISSING
(she has no canon personality. you know what that means. get the building equipment out fellas)
DAY 30: LINKLE + FAREWELL
(and here we are - LAST DAY!)
THE END! YAY! I CAN'T WAIT FOR SEPTEMBER - CAN YOU?
#sepfember#SEPFEMBER PROMPTS LIST 2024#IM SO OVERTIRED PLS LET ME KNOW IF I MADE ANY MISTAKES#THANK YOU. GOODNIGHT#I LOVE YOU ALL#linked universe#FORGOT TO TAG THE FANDOM LMAO#linked universe event#fandom event
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title: the dancer and the angel part 2
pairing: grayson hawthorne x (first person) reader
synopsis: lyra kane is closer to your boyfriend than ever seen as grayson has just been put of her team in the grandest game and it’s making you a little nervous, you don’t trust her and you don’t want her too close to him
parts: part 1 part 3 part 4
warnings: mild swearing, SPOILERS FOR TGG
a/n: I had quite a few requests for a part 2, so here she is… trying to get into my productive era right now (fake it till you make it right??)
tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234
RECAP
“Whose team is he on?” I say quickly.
“Odette Morales and Lyra Kane.”
***
Lyra Kane. Lyra Kane. Lyra Kane. The name rattles around my brain, echoing off of my skull, only to replay in my mind again. Of course it just has to be Lyra Kane that he’s on a team with. That breathtaking woman with beauty that shouldn’t be possible for a human. Yeah, that Lyra Kane. I feel like laughing and crying all at the same time, so I express nothing instead. Why did it have to be her? Out of all of the players.
I’m not jealous, I try to convince myself, I’m just concerned. Yes, that’s it. Except it isn’t and the only person I’m lying to is pathetic little old me. I am ferociously jealous. It scolds me torturously, raging from the pit of my stomach, crawling under my skin to settle comfortably.
Grayson loves me, I know this. I felt the kisses we’d shared on the beach moments before he’d gone into the stupid house. They still linger on my lips now, I could taste him slightly, I’d heard him say he loved me, only me and yet I can’t get the feeling out of my system. The jealousy always manages to seep its way back in. I’m sick with a disease called envy.
I don’t want to be the jealous girl, the possessive one that people roll their eyes at or avoid. That’s not me. I didn’t want it to be me. But deep down I’m petrified that that’s who I’m becoming. I sigh, realising I was just going to have to swallow it. What could I do about it now? Besides I know Grayson, I trust Grayson. He wouldn’t let her try anything on, would he?
***
Hours of waiting and not watching. We couldn’t see the players at all. Or hear them. Anxiety is killing me slowly from the inside out, gnawing happily at my organs. I spin the ring on my middle finger as my leg jigs up and down, counting down the seconds until sunrise, four-thousand one-hundred and eight-two to go.
“You know you don’t have to look so panicked all the time,” Nash sighs, slumping down beside me.
“I’m not panicked,” I say, forcing a laugh.
“Sure darlin’,” he says, “my name’s Roger and I have a pet turtle.”
I roll my eyes, fighting the urge to smile, “I mean it, I’m fine.”
“It’s completely safe in there, we designed it that way,” he explains slowly, soothingly, “no one’s going to get hurt and there’s an emergency button just in case.”
“Okay,” I nod, exhaling.
I don’t believe him and his words don’t offer me much comfort. My overthinking brain is currently listing all of the ways Grayson could possibly die in the next ten minutes. But Nash is trying and I’m thankful to have him.
“At least pretend you’re convinced,” he drawls, a twinkle in his eyes.
Maybe I’m not convinced that everything’s going to be fine but I am convinced Nash has a sixth sense called ‘big brother knows all’ because for some reason he always knew everyone’s thoughts and feelings, even when they were trying to hide it. Either that or he’s a mind reader.
“I am,” I tell him, as convincingly as I could muster, “everything’s going to be fine.”
“Shit!” Jameson yells from across the room, perfect timing as per usual.
“What?” I hear Avery ask quickly.
“The powers gone out,” he says, smacking the table so hard I didn’t know how he didn’t break a bone.
“What do you mean the powers gone out?” I say, standing up and walking over.
“I mean they have no light, no heaters and they ate completely locked in by the mechanisms,” he explains, gesturing to the blank screens.
“We’ve lost all connection to them as well,” Xander murmurs, eyes darting from left to right at each and every screen.
“Everything?” I exclaim, trying not to get over-anxious and failing miserably.
“Yes,” Jameson confirms.
“You’re panicking her,” Nash scolds him.
“Well she asked I’m not going to lie,” he defends.
“Not the time to argue guys,” Avery rolls her eyes, getting back to the computer. Jameson follows her lead, trying to reconnect the lost signals.
“Shit shit shit,” he groans as more things shut off. He slams his hands down on the keyboard and starts guessing random buttons, “Xand help me out here,”
“Don’t you worry, dearest brother,” Xander replies calmly, “I’m working on it.”
Silence hits us like the dead. We’re all intently staring up the layers and layers of code coming up on the several screens. I can’t understand any of it.
“This is Python,” Jameson points at one of the scenes.
“Yeah and this is Java,” Xander nods, “but I have no clue what this is.”
“Shit,” Jameson curses, running a hand through his hair, reminding me of Grayson when he was overstimulated.
“Not yet,” he replies, turning to the other Hawthorne brother present, “Nash do you remember when I was in fifth grade-“
“The de-coder book?” he says before Xander even finishes.
“Please,” he nods sharply.
“Got it,” he replies, rushing out of the room.
“Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?” I whisper to Avery
“Absolutely none,” she shrugs, looking as clueless as me offering me some comfort.
“Who would even cut the power?” Jameson asks to nobody in particular.
Avery and I share a look. I already know we’re thinking the same thing.
“Grayson is in there, does she know that?” I ask quickly.
“I don’t know,” she replied, chewing the inside of her cheek
“She?” Jameson interrupts. We both ignore him.
“Don’t you think he’ll be her prime target,” I say, the worry warping my tone a little in a way that made me sound a little too vulnerable for my liking.
“Target?” Jameson says. We ignore him, again.
“Most likely, if it is her,” Avery sighs, tapping her bottom lip melodically.
Jameson looks at Xander, baffled, “are they speaking in code?”
“I’m kind of concentrating right now Jamie, please don’t talk to me,” he responds, not taking his eyes off of the computer screens as he attempts to decode.
“Who are you talking about?” Jameson raises his voice a little, forcing me and Avery to address his question.
“This could be Eve,” Avery says softly.
“Eve?” Xander says, freezing mid-type and actually lifting his head up.
“No surely not,” Jameson shakes his head in denial.
“Think about it,” I say, “who else can you think that would want go sabotage this game?”
“Anyone who fancies a good bit of money,” he states, “and it could be nothing at all.”
“A power cut isn’t nothing,” I argue.
“I hate to agree the circumstance,” Avery exhales, “but it’s true, this feels like a threat of sorts.”
“And we can’t contact the players meaning anything could happen right now,” I say, worry bleeding into my voice.
Jameson’s face softens.
“But they’re locked in,” Nash points out, sauntering back in, “no one is getting in or out, that means they can’t be hurt.”
He hands the decoding book to Xander who frantically flips through the pages to find something in particular.
“Windows can be smashed,” I point out.
“You think whoever this is would risk smashing a window,” Nash asks, with his eyebrows raised.
“I don’t know how these people work,” I snap, throwing my hands up in the arm.
“You’re shaking,” he says softly.
I look up to see my shaking limbs. Immediately they drop to my sides and I desperately try to still them, “no I’m not-“
“Breathe a little okay, Gray will be fine,” he reassures me, his tone placid, as he delicately takes my shaking hands between his.
“Look as long as they all stay put no one should get hurt,” Avery says calmly, “the glass on the windows are double glazed and harder to smash than the average window, that is if they’re going to risk that.”
“Besides Xander’s on it,” Jameson adds.
Xander sticks a thumb into the air, still audibly tapping the keyboard with the other, “whoever did this is incredibly skilled at hacking and annoyingly so,” he mutters in reply.
No one talks. We are all just stood in silence, barely daring to breathe not wanting to break Xander’s concentration. Mine and Avery’s hands are intertwined, gripping the others so tightly that our fingers are white. Xander is frantic. He’s practically sweating as he types quickly and clicks buttons I didn’t even know existed. And just when it seemed like he might be getting somewhere more and more boxes of undeciphered code popped up. I’m close to being hopeless when Xander leans back in his seat.
“We’re back up and running,” Xander announces, “lights, buttons, connections, locks, everything.”
Avery and I squeal, hugging each other tightly. Relief floods through my body and I’m giddy with it. Xander stands up and breathes out slowly.
I kiss his cheek in affection and gratitude, platonically, “thank you Xander.”
“You’re welcome,” he says.
“I owe you a scone,” Jameson tells with a slap on the back.
“That, you do,” he nods with a wide grin.
“What do we tell the players?” Nash asks, reminding us that the game is still going and the players will be wondering what the hell just went on.
“Do we tell them the truth?” Xander asks.
“We don’t even know the truth,” Jameson tells him.
“Then we tell them what we know,” Avery says, “Nash?”
“You got it kid,” he nods.
Xander slides an arms around me.
“Sorry ‘bout that folks,” Nash drawls through the microphone, “brief technical snafu on our end, but we’re back. You still have sixty three minutes until dawn. As long as at least one team makes it down to the dock by the deadline, the rules still stand.”
It’s fine, everything will be fine. Three thousand seven hundred and eighty seconds left. I rest my head on Xander’s shoulder and he puts his head on mine. I think he’s the only thing that’s holding me up at the moment. If he weren’t I’m pretty sure my body would be some sort of odd shaped puddle of consumed thoughts on the carpet. Only one sentence goes through my head, over and over and over. I can’t wait to have my arms around Grayson again.
***
It’s almost sunrise when we make our way to the dock so we’ll be there for when the players make it out. If they make it out. I walk in between Xander and Nash, trying to keep up with their obscenely large leg strides. Avery and Jameson lead the way holding hands. My heart squeezes, it won’t be too long before I see Grayson again. I know it seemed stupid, we had only been apart for a few hours, but those hours had felt like weeks given all of the events that had taken place. Not to mentioned the long prolonging wait of which I couldn’t see or hear him.
And there was still something going around in my head. Something about him being with Lyra Kane for this long in such close proximity. It was grating at me, but I push the feelings down and bury them under a mound that I’m trying to ignore.
“Want to have a bet?” Xander ruffles my hair, stealing me from being consumed by my own thoughts.
I slap him away, “I’ve heard it’s dangerous to wager with a Hawthorne.”
“What’s my brother been telling you?” he asks.
“Mum’s the word,” I wink back, tapping my nose.
“What’s your bet on little brother?” Nash asks.
“What team will make it first,” Xander grins, mischievous glint in his eye.
His brotehr grins towards the sky, “had a feeling it might be.”
“I’m bias then,” I scoff.
“Okay so your Hearts,” Xander says.
“Hang on I never agreed to this bet,” I exclaim, holding my hands up to surrender.
“Whoever wins gets a scone,” he bribes me.
“That only benefits you,” Nash points out.
“Actually I would also benefit, I like scones,” I smile sheepishly,
“See? Who are you voting Nash?” Xander asks.
“I’ll go with Clubs, I’m rooting for Gigi,” Nash shrugs.
Xander nods, “that means I’m going with Diamonds.”
“You don’t have to,” I tell him.
“Yes I do, otherwise it’s uneven,” he says. I wasn’t going to argue.
“Who would your original vote gone to?” I ask.
He smiles at me, a cheeky glint in his eyes, “no one shall ever know.”
“What are you three wittering about,” Jameson says, interrupting the train of conversation as he turns around.
“Probably something better than the lovesick whispers you two are sharing,” Xander teases.
“Xand-“
The thumping of footsteps cut him off. It’s a race. Hearts and Diamonds are out. Savannah is the fastest, Rohan hot on her heels. Though Lyra takes them both over in a matter of seconds. She must be a runner. Would explain the to-die-for figure. Grayson is close behind her thought Odette trailed behind slightly, but for a woman of her age she’s doing remarkably well. They all arrive within milliseconds of each other, breathless and rosy-cheeked.
“Congratulations Diamonds and Hearts, you’ve made it,” Avery smiles.
“Where’s Clubs?” Savannah asks, its only then I notice how her longs blonde hair has been chopped off unevenly. It makes her look even colder than before, sending a chill down my spine
“Still playing,” Jameson says.
“Gray,” I breathe in relief, as he takes me into his arms.
Something about the hug feels unnatural maybe even slightly uncomfortable, but I brush it off. We’d both been awake for far too long. I couldn’t trust my judgement on this little sleep.
“You okay?” I murmur into his shoulder.
“Fine,” he replies, so only I can hear him.
“Good.”
It hit sunrise and something sinks in my stomach. Clubs haven’t made it. Gigi is out of the game. This is going to destroy her. We all wait in silence. All knowing Clubs have failed, all knowing the disappointment we’d have to see on their faces. My heart is thumping loudly in my chest, I can hear it in my ears. I grip onto Grayson’s hand tightly. I catch Lyra’s honey golden eyes. She looks me up and down as I narrow my eyes at her. I can’t read her body language towards me, it was difficult to make out what she was thinking or feelings. I turn away and try not to think too much of it.
There’s sound coming from the left of us and in the distance there are three figures. Everyone’s eyes snap to the three remaining players who’s hearts are probably all sinking in realisation that they were nit longer players in this game. Then I notice what’s in Knox’s arms or rather who… Knox is carrying a bleeding Gigi. My stomach twists. Grayson freezes beside me.
“Put her down,” Grayson says sternly, his voice commanding authority.
Immediately Knox gently places Gigi down, making sure she was stable before he completely let go. We rush to her side immediately. Grayson putting a protective arm around her shoulder, his eyes flitting between the gash on her head and her face.
“Oh god Gigi,” I murmur tentatively touching her bloodied head to assess how severe it is.
“I’m fine,” she winces, blinking back tears.
“You are not,” Grayson says, his voice hard almost empty, “you’re injured Gigi.”
“Who among us is not occasionally concussed?” she says happily.
“Our team is out of the game, go ahead say it we’be been eliminated,” Knox says turning to Avery.
She ignores him and approaches Gigi, “are you okay?”
She nodded with a smile laced with the pain he thought she could hide. Maybe it was invisible to the others, but not to me. I’ve been under the same mask she’s trying to hide behind now. I understand. Grayson keeps his arm around her and I keep my hand in hers. She squeezes my palm and I squeeze hers back. I’m here, I wanted to scream, I’m here for you.
“Diamonds and Hearts, you’re onto the next phase of the game. Clubs… there’s always next year,” Avery finally brings herself to say.
“Once a player, always a player,” Jameson adds.
***
I don’t leave Gigi’s side until Nash has patched her up properly. ‘Stay with her, please,’ Grayson had murmured after we’d shared a quick kiss. He’d had something to discuss back at the dock with Odette. And Lyra. So I did, I stayed by Gigi’s side through every wince, every hand squeeze, every stitch.
“All patch up darlin’,” Nash nods, tipping his cowboy hat towards her slightly.
“Thanks,” she smiles brightly, it’s an unnatural fluorescent brightness that she radiated. Too bright, too artificial.
“You feeling okay?” I make sure, looking at her head.
“Fine,” she replied, gently feeling over her stitches.
Before anyone can say anything else there is a sharp knock at the door interrupting the thread of conversation. Nash answers. Brady walks in. Something was off about that guy. I got a bad feeling when I was around that guy. Nash gets up to leave and as much as I want to stay, it’s not my place to and I know that.
“Holler if you need anything,” Nash tells Gigi.
“We’re not going far,” I reassure her.
“Don’t worry about me,” she beams up at me, though the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “really I’m fine.”
“I think we both know that’s a lie,” I say, my voice so low I’m not sure if she can hear me.
The way her eyes soften, revealing an ounce of vulnerability, indicates she has, “can we talk later? Maybe on the boat back?”
“Of course we can,” I say, squeezing her hand in mine one last time, before standing up to leave her to talk to Brady.
She nods with a small smile which I return, then turn to follow Nash who’s holding eye contact with Brady intensely. As soon as we’re out of the room and a few paces down the corridor Nash blurts out, “I don’t trust him.”
“Neither do I,” I grimace, at least someone else had picked up on Brady’s sketchy vibes, “he gives me a weird feeling.”
“Same here kid,” he nods in reply, then pauses slightly before saying, “you go and find Gray, I’ll be close by if she needs me.”
I fumble over my words. How did he know again? He has to be some sort of mind reader. I make a mental note to discuss it with Xander.
“Are you sure?” I ask quietly.
“I’m sure,” he says, placing a brotherly hand in my shoulder, “I know you’re still worried, you’re horrible at hiding it.”
“Thanks Nash,” I chuckle, brushing hair out of my face,
“No worries kid,” he says, shooting me a lopsided grin as I rush off to reunite with Grayson.
***
The boat left for the mainland at noon, that was when Gigi, Knox and now Odette were leaving, as she traded her place for Brady’s. But the players had been told to try and get some rest before the next phase. I’d also been up all night and could feel myself growing tired, so Grayson and I were currently laying on our bed in each other’s arms. It feels nice to finally breathe a little. I don’t feel the weight of stress from my jealousy or guilt or worry, I just feel normal.
“Do you think Gigi will be okay,” I murmur into Grayson.
“Nash is used to patching up our ailments,” he responds, his tone a little distant. It made me iffy.
“Yeah but I mean after being cast out of the game,” I reply, “I know I wouldn’t feel great if I were in her position.”
“I don’t know,” he murmurs, blowing out a short breath.
“I’m worried about her,” I say quietly.
“Me too,” he whispers, “I’m really worried about her.”
“I think we’re going to talk later,” I tell him, hoping it might provide himnwith some sort of solace.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I confirm, “I hope she might get whatever it is that’s hurting her off of her chest.”
“Make sure she’s okay for me, okay?” he makes sure, “no matter what.”
“Of course,” I say, a little confused. Why had he said it like that? Like something bad might happen? Like I might lose him? I brush off the feeling. I put it down to overreacting, as usual.
We fall into a long silence as I trace different shapes on chest with my finger tip. I slowly drag it along, with no specific shape in mind. A blank expression is present on his face and I can see he’s deep in thought. There’s something on his mind and I have a horrible feeling it has something to do with the unseen, unheard happenings of the grandest game.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask him, doe-eyed.
“Hmmm nothing,” he says, refusing to look me in the eye.
“You sure?” I press on.
“I’m sure,” he says, planting a kiss on my forehead.
The kiss was off and I could see something was bothering him but he didn’t want to tell me, I’d wait until he was ready. Even if it were forever.
“What was it like in there?” I ask, attempting to change the subject, “the game.”
“It really was the grandest game,” he whispers, “like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.”
“Really?”
“They outdid themselves thoroughly,” he says.
“I bet,” I nod, nuzzling further into him affectionately.
“You really couldn’t hear or see anything the whole time?” he asks, a hint of worry delicately woven into his tone. It was so brief you would’ve missed it if you didn’t know him. But I know Gray.
“Nothing, it was like hell,” I say with a small tired laugh, “it was killing me that I had no clue if you were okay.”
“I was fine,” he replied quickly, almost curtly.
“Well I know that now,” I yawn and feel my eyes begin to close slowly but I fight to keep them open.
“You’re tired,” Grayson says, the ghost of a smile faintly touching his lips.
I shake my head in denial, “no I’m not,” I protest, “not even a little bit.”
“Go the sleep love,” he whispers.
“I want to talk to you though,” I pout, rubbing my eyes.
“We‘ll have plenty of time tomorrow,” he says, playing with my hair.
“Okay,” I murmur, letting myself fall into a dimension of much needed sleep, finally with my love back in my arms.
***
I wake up in the middle of darkness, though there is light desperately trying to make it through the black out blinds. I wonder how long I’d been asleep for, it couldn’t be past noon though. I’m aware of the coldness on the other side of the bed. Grayson wasn’t there. It wasn’t exactly uncommon. Usually when we were home, if it were the early hours he would either be swimming or having a wander and a read to make himself tired again.
I hear the door handle turn slowly and the sound of his all too familiar footsteps hitting the floor. I crawl out of bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, as I make my way toward him. Though as I do he stands still, frozen, like he can’t move. Concern latches onto my throat.
“Are you okay?” I whisper, tentatively touching his arm.
He recoils away quickly, like I’ve hit a tender nerve or a bruise of sorts.
“Are you hurt?” I ask worriedly
“No,” he murmurs, his voice stone cold.
It hurts a little more than it should, he’s never usually so blunt, so cutthroat. Not with me anyway.
“Where have you been?” I say, fishing for an honest reply.
He meets my eyes for the first time. Swimming in endless pools of grey is a mournful sorrow, “I’m sorry.”
His voice cracks. Grayson’s voice never cracks.
“Gray?” I say in a ghost of the whisper, the word not even feeling real once it is said. My pulse quickens suddenly and a large lump that I cannot swallow forms in my throat.
He’s pale, his face is regretful. Hollow. Lifeless. My heart sinks. I already know.
“Tell me,” I say, my voice shaking nearly breaking like weak houses in an earthquake.
He shakes his head glossy eyed, “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant for it to happen, I-“
“Tell me,” I grit through my teeth trying to prevent the thick emotion building up in my chest from overflowing.
There is a long pause. A deadly silence that seemed to last for days.
He parts his lips and utters the words, “I kissed her.”
It’s like a masked killer has dragged me from the comfort and safety of my own bed in the middle of the night, taken me into the thick of the wood where the vegetation is overgrown and no one will ever hear you scream. The part where it’s hard to see the sky or tell day from night and where no birds sing. And once we’re there, he takes a sharpened knife, laced with the most excruciating poison and slowly opens the left side of my chest, carefully ripping out my beating heart full of blood to destroy in his hands at his leisure. Grinning as her leaves my broken body to bleed out, dying heartless and lifeless. It’s like the person under that mask is Grayson. The one person I put all of my love and trust into. The one person who I thought would saved me from the masked killer is the masked killer. What a fucking joke.
“Who?” I ask, my tone low, dangerous, angry, “who did you kiss? I want to hear you say it.”
“I kissed Lyra,” he whispers, tears rolling down his cheeks, a state I’d never witnessed him in before. But right now I’m too broken to care.
My heart shatters into a million pieces on the spot. And then I am numb with agony.
a/n: so that was a fun ending :) hope you enjoyed part 2 my loves <33 and thanks to everyone who requested it, I’m sorry it took me so long to get around to it
NOTE I DONT THINK GRAYSON IS A CHEATER!! LIKE AT ALL. MY BABY WOULD NEVER!! but I thought I’d spice things up a bit yk, for the ✨drama✨
ALSO the de-coding thingy when the power went out if probs completely wrong on my part but I was allowed to drop computer science last year and I did ;) so I was just waffling, I know nothing about computers other than they can type, play music and they provide me with google and amazon
TIG masterlist
#bella writes 🤍#grayson hawthorne#grayson tgg#grayson hawthorne one shot#grayson hawthorne x you#grayson hawthorne x reader#grayson davenport hawthorne#the inheritance games#tig#the brothers hawthorne#the final gambit#the hawthorne legacy#the grandest game
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Welcome back!! I hope you're doing well and, if not, I hope my silly ramblings can make your day somewhat better, like the wildcats used to say: we're all in this together ♥
previously, in harrowcita del 9:
this happened
for those of you recently tuning in, this is the tag of all the ramblings
also, I'm officially in the sixth house now, palmolive can't stop me
CHAPTER 46
we're back inside the emperor's bolthole, which is infested
this is what happens when you have a lyctor orgy without the proper protection
gideon is doing her very best to fight the infestation of herald bees swarming and attacking her
she's in harrow's feeble small kitten baby body, so she's dying a lot
I'm gonna try to represent this visually
gideon keeps apologizing to harrow for getting her bits chewed off and her insides pouring out
and puts emphasis on things she wants harrow to remember
"I saw it eat your thumb—these details are important, so keep up with me—and your thumb was back in the next half minute"
"Child, that bee smashed you"
"I touched your intestines, which is usually what, fourth date"
me:
so, gideon takes off harrow's excess bones, which are no use to her, and goes further into the emperor's infested bolthole, where she finds mercygirl
mercygirl thinks gideon is harrow at first and, turns out, she was the one who stabbed her
these lyctors istg
can't trust any of them
mercygirl thinks harrow should be grateful that she stabbed her
and she was aware that harrow had "stuffed the soul of the cavalier in the back of her brain"
NOW WE'RE GONNA GET INTO SOME TERRITORY THAT MAKES ME GO ABSOLUTELY BERSERK, SO BEAR WITH ME
I NEED TO GET MY NOTES BACK FROM MY PREVIOUS RECAPS FOR THIS
she asks what happened with gideon's eyes and, as we have seen in the previous gideon-centric chapter, gideon's eyes are in harrow's face atm, if memory serves
"You're not her—she isn't driving you—but you have her eyes. Why? When they showed me your corpse I didn't think to check the eyes"
"I thought I knew what you were, though I didn't want to believe it..."
now listen, we're starting to tie some loose ends and some of those loose ends are linked very closely to my previous theories
I have been considering the Commander Wake is Gideon's Mom and Has a Personal Connection To Gideon The First and Is The One Connected With The Harrow Notes In Canaan AU for a while now
I need to link the specific recaps where I said this because I need to be transparent about where my brain was at
Evidence A, Evidence B, Evidence C, Evidence D
there's probably more but those are pretty clear
I swear to god if I was right about this I'm gonna screencap my own recap and put it here when the time comes
I've been marinating this one for months
I actually forgot how much of that I had written down in the recaps until I re-read them
mercygirl says that she thought the commander was a bad girl workaholic who put business before family, that she made her "the dolls" and she must have "played silly buggers with the emission" and that "gideon was on her tail"
"And then Gideon ruined everything. Then the commander ruined everything. Then you ruined everything. This could have been over eighteen years ago"
apparently gideon the first was "obsessed" with the commander, which accounts for some of the notes harrow read
I'LL GET BACK TO THAT WHEN WE GET TO THE SLEEPER, MY THEORIES CONTINUE
mercygirl starts calling gideon all sorts of names, including mutant, and keeps being bothered about her eyes
"Lipochrome. Recessive. You are the evidence. He lied to us...and you are all the proof I needed" "Cytherea would have known as soon as she looked at you"
is gideon the first gideon's dad??????? I mean, I always though he might have Something with the mom but my money was on gideon being made through science rather than Traditional Means
I mean, having lyctor genes in some way would account for gideon being a demigod, something I said with those words when I was reading gideon
also, remember when not!dulcinea told gideon she was prettier than the other gideon?? because I've never forgotten
mercygirl confirms that gideon the first was sent to kill gideon's mom
who, according to mercygirl, would have hated to be called a mom
mamá luchona intensifies
all of which aligns with my theory very nicely so far
she calls gideon more names, including "abomination, you heresy, you failed ambition nineteen years too late"
gideon reacts not wanting mercygirl to touch her instinctively
man, my theories are RIGHT THERE to be fully connected I'm BITING THE DESK
but there's no time for any more talk because mercygirl is trying to kill gideon in harrow's body
but she is stopped
she is shot
by not!dulcinea
but I don't think this is not!dulcinea, I previously mentioned her maybe being used by someone, not sure if it's possession or being used or what's going on but I don't think this is her
I thought about gideon the first being the one to do it but if he wanted harrow dead, I'm not sure he'd save gideon now
not!dulcinea says "with a tone that wasn't" hers: "goodbye"
gideon ends the chapter with "what the fuck is going on?"
CHAPTER 47
we're back at canaan au and it's time to perform an exorcism
harrow has a new note
I've been connecting those notes to gideon's mom possibly commander wake (as linked above)
the latest note continues to add to my theory
"end of the line. falling. oxygen can't last the distance and won't redirect power from the payload. instead I will make you watch every moment as I get the last privilege you cannot enjoy you bygone son of a bitch. I hope you're both as sorry as I am."
I still think this is gideon's mom because that's how she died, I mean, she got to the ninth in a suit without air and gideon still had some, allegedly
I've been thinking that one of the two people involved in the situationship triangle described in the notes was gideon the first, and that maybe the other was dr reverend emperor john
he's the most likely to be a bygone son of a bitch, so maybe I'm right
so, if harrow connects the notes with the spirit that's haunting her
and I'm connecting them to gideon's mom....
what if it's her that's haunting harrow?????
I mean, Waker
I NEED TO STOP GETTING INTO THEORY TANGENTS
anyway, all of the ghoulie ghostie friends are getting together for a sleepover exorcism
I didn't use this when I should have, back when the different aus were going by, but here it is
real!dulcinea says "Pal always said I'd be the death of him. And I was..."
he died being a weenie but he's not all the way dead, so it's fine
harrow questions why everyone wants to help her but everyone's totally fine with all this, for different reasons
real!dulcinea is "horny for revenge" (that's a tshirt for the seventh girlies right there)
protozoa is there because duty is his full personality
abby is really grateful to be asked to help (she also really likes tombs, very lara croft of her)
magnus loves his wife
ortus wants a redemption arc and now has a polycule
martita is behaving better than judith
abby asks harrow if there's anything she can remember from the slasher waker sleeper to try to pinpoint who tf it is
there's a suit, blood, a gun and gideon's sword, which is the only thing harrowcita recognizes and doesn't know where it comes from
my money is on gideon's mom, commander wake, probably also the woman in the shuttle poster that harrow saw but didn't recognize back when she met camilla
I'M PUTTING MORE CHIPS IN MY BETS EVEN IF I GET NO MORE INFO RN
harrow is very interested in how abby and magnus make it work as a married couple who are also a necro and a cav
I wonder why she's so interested
anyway, everything goes to shit on the exorcism
like, it goes really, really badly
group project off the rails bad
I mean, they didn't even have blood
apparently the spirit is also tethered to an object out there (the sword??????? possibly?????)
and she (she's a SHE) is pretty much invincible and shooting everyone and performing parkour while she's at it
harrow says camilla would be impressed, which is the highest praise
the sleeper waker slasher potentially gideon's mom (but not sure because it hasn't been confirmed yet) calls harrow by her name, but in a way that sounds like she's never said it before
she says it like a curse, which maybe means she knows, to some degree, how harrow was made????
she's basically doing whatever she wants over here, shooting ghosts, punching ghosts, throwing them around, regenerating, not bleeding, pulling guns out of thin air
I mean, ok, we got it, calm down lady
where was this energy when it was time to kill the emperor
she says there's "no magic" there and that "she's been doing this for years"
she wants harrow, so she can kill her and use her body to "finish it"
WHICH MAYBE MEANS KILLING THE EMPEROR???
OH MAN I DO WANT THAT TO HAPPEN
BUT NOT AT THE COST OF HARROW
also, mrs potentially gideon's mom, even if harrow dies, there's also gideon in the body right now so, it's a bit crowded atm
maybe find another way to kill the emperor
use not!dulcinea instead, if you can get the current tenant to leave
the chapter ends with: "ortus cleared his throat"
MAN, I HOPE HE DROPS SOME POETRY LINES, WE SURELY NEED THAT
and that's it for today!!!!!things are certainly heating up in the emperor's bolthole!!!! see you soon for the next installment, fingers crossed for my theories!!!
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sweet dream was over ☽ mick schumacher
gossf1poutlet news of mick schumacher and y/n leclerc previously being in a relationship trends as the number one topic across social media, following an unfortunate leak from their private accounts. both the schumacher and leclerc's have expressed their opinion on this matter, via a strongly worded 'love letter' from legal counsels that represented their respective families. on a statement that was recently released, both parties have similarly urged everyone to refrain from making unnecessary assumptions and encouraged the public to rally against the spread of misinformation and baseless accounts of the pair's alleged relationship. their representatives also promises to pursue legal actions against the culprit.
username the whiplash i got from seeing this all over my tl still makes my muscles spasm😩
username extremely amazed at how they managed to keep it a secret for so long
username yes!!! no one expected little leclerc to REALLY pick one off of her dizzying number of suitors /gen
username thanks for adding the geniune tag op
username anytime🫡 we ride at dawn for little leclerc in this house
username please present your simp card at the checkout
username sure, do you accept the laminated one or does it have to be the government mandated one?
username so... timeline recaping anyone? 🤔
username they probably got together during 2019 or 2020
username seems that way, funny if you account the arthur and mick prema timeline aswell
username got together late 2019 or early 2020 and probably broke up late 2021 or early 2022, but that's only my intelligent guess 🤷♀️
username around the same time mick was having haas problems too? fcking brutal
username did the article say to not make unnecessary assumptions or did it not??!🙄
username this news has devastated me more than my own breakup... and that mothertrucker cheated on me with my bff. brb hurling and crying into the void.
username they were so perfect 🥺
username forever enchanted, my treasure. FOREVER enchanted MY treasure. FOREVER ENCHANTED MY TREASURE!!
username are u okay, do u need intervention?
username send all the help you could give my way tysm🥰
username rocking back and forth while hugging my knees to my chest type of thing
username pretending they never broke up for my sanity
username probably the reason she never had the guts to attend a grand prix
username she was getting educated and winning pageants, but yeah?
username these dts fans
username 💀💀
username tell me who was the champion year by year?
username where'd you get that from, netflix?
username so mick HAS game, but i never thought i'd learn it this way😞
username throwing up and shaking trembling and hurling and screaming crying
username love is NOT real
username it's literally the way mick coined the jewel/gem nickname for y/n before the rest of the world started calling her monégasque's pearl 🥺😭
username he has bragging rights forever
username he subconsciously knew it!!!
username never letting any man call me homie from now on
username girl—
2021, Switzerland
"y/n? what are you doing down here?" corinna asks you, mildly taken aback to see you down at the kitchen just around midnight.
you look up from blankly staring at the keys of your laptop, evidently surprised to see the older woman standing just a few steps away from you. you didn't hear her footsteps or anything.
"just..." you trail off, grappling for an appropriate response as to why you were sitting in the dark, barely awake, in the middle of the night. "files," you lie, unconvincingly.
corinna hums, and you knew she was barely convinced by your pathetic excuse, but she had too much tact to call you out on your lie. she wasn't blind, or oblivious as the kids these days would say; though she was considerably older, she still understood the worries and anxieties of the young heart.
"it's very late, schatz." she chides gently, touching your shoulder. "you shouldn't be working this late, it's bad for you." her tone was heavily laden with a motherly lilt.
"stunts my growth," you utter softly, smiling at her. corinna chuckles, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheeks. "and you can't be miss universe if you're short."
"you trust me too much." you remark teasingly.
"you ought to take over the world, darling." corinna laughs softly. "now, are you up for some warm milk and some- what do you children call it? tea sharing?"
"close, you're well versed with today's lingo. should i tell uncle michael that he should be worried?"
"he should always be worried." she says seriously, which made you tip your head back to laugh. she smiles at you, fondness clear as a day. "that's how you keep them on their toes. never make them feel comfortable."
spending the break with mick and his family in their summer home in switzerland has been a tradition of sorts. and alongside your fairy tale like romance with the youngest of the schumacher's, you had also become incredibly close with the rest of his family.
corinna grabs two glasses and neatly places them on the counter, she opens the fridge to get the carton of milk and pours a generous amount to each glass. she swiftly pops it in the microwave, before turning and giving her sole attention to you.
"i'm happy to see you laugh again, schatz. suits you better."
"that's very accusatory. i have been laughing, and smiling all week." you insist, light heartedly.
"maybe so, but not as pretty and geniune as now." she replies, "is there anything wrong? is it mick?" her tone was heavy with concern, looking both distressed and dreading your confirmation. it could have been her son that was the cause of the shift in your demeanor.
you look down at your lap, feeling the tears prick at your eyes upon her overwhelming bout of concern she plainly wears on her face. it reminds you so much of your own mother, and of which, corinna has easily become a substitute for when maman wasn't around.
"it's nothing." you clear your throat, "he's wonderful. he always is." you tried to smile in fake cheer.
"that's good." she smiles softly, "i was just about to say, that he loves you. he tells me everyday, he tells his father; he tells everyone willing to listen how much he could not fathom how you ever came to be in his life," she narrates earnestly, emotion heavy on her voice, "and he'll spend every waking moment of it to do right by you. to make you proud."
you closed your eyes, trying to will the tears at bay. "he tells me everyday too," your voice shook with emotion, throat welling up with tears. "and i know he means it. i do. but he— he never stops feeling like he constantly has to prove something, or be someone, or win everything." you weren't able to stop the tears, even as your eyes were closed. you finally open your eyes to see corinna's teary ones aswell, "and i— if i am the cause of it, i don't... i no longer feel worthy of his love."
you physically, felt all weight of pretense leave your body; finally being able to put to words the emotions, and complex thoughts you've bottled up, in fear of speaking it into existence. your shoulders sank, your defenses crumbling, as you broke down into inconsolable tears, weeping at your hands.
you felt arms wrap around you, weading through the shame and guilt you felt at your admission. you'd expected corinna's blame, but you never counted on her consolation. she held you. sympathetic and kind, and gracious; and understanding.
"it will be okay, schatzi." she says in the strands of your hair, "it will be. i promise you."
#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#f1 smau#f1 social media au#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x female reader#mick schumacher x reader#mick schumacher x you#mick schumacher x y/n#mick schumacher x female reader#mick schumacher fic#f1 angst#f1
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Numbers Game ~ Chapter 34
Can You Pretend?
Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Shanks x Fem!Reader x ???
Numbers Game Masterlist
Word Count: 11331
Ao3 Link
Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link
Chapter Tunes: Taste of You ~ Rezz Feat. Dove Cameron | Crazy On You ~ Hidden Citizens
Summary: Getting to know the hunters is getting to you, especially when your own past gets too much attention.
Ch. 33 ~ Recap: You decided that you would kill Shanks for Buggy if he forced you to marry him, and Shanks realized that there was hatred behind your eyes. Mihawk confessed his plan to be the villain so that he could bring you back to Buggy. Crocodile and Buggy encouraged him to try to find another way.
Author's Note: I can't believe that all of these random thoughts I braindumped months ago are finally getting into the story 🥰🥰
Dark Content Warning: There's plenty of fun in this chapter, but there are some extremely potentially triggering scenes. PLEASE DO NOT READ if these might be triggering for you!!! I’ve included a summary directly below the scenes, so that you won’t miss the story if you need to not be in the BIG FEELS of the scene. The summaries will be bracketed with ~⚫~SUMMARY~⚫~ Please take care of yourself, you are not alone! 💜
Also, I hope everyone remembers the tag/warning: Cross Guild Boys are VILLAINS. It’s been there since day one, so 🤷♀️ I didn't bracket that scene, but please remember who they are! I still love my sweet, bad boys 🥰 but you have been warned!!!!
~ 1st ⚫ ~ PLEASE DO NOT READ this section if childhood trauma regarding parents fighting could be triggering. Flashback of very small children witnessing/hearing their parents having a very heated argument, from the child's POV. The topic of the fight is a bit of a spoiler, so if any kind of relationship trauma could trigger you, you can check the summary first before diving in.
~ 2nd ⚫ ~ PLEASE DO NOT READ this section if severe mental illness episodes, treatment, or hospitals might be triggering for you.
Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes
!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic currently contains spoilers for up to chapter 1064 or episode 1093. As we get further into Egghead Arc where our lovely boys are showing up more, there will be more spoilers as time goes on. Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers small details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.
Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Mental Illness, Grief, Hospitals, Doctors, Mental Health Treatment, Toxic Family, Childhood Trauma, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Relationship Drama, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Uncle Cedrick Has Become His Own Warning, Death of an Unnamed Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
Kat wasn’t here.
Your sister wasn’t here with her wide eyes that were usually sharp with disdain, but always held concern for you. Always held an attention to your needs that you didn’t want her to carry.
But not tonight.
“How is this supposed to be protective? Shouldn’t you be giving me some fucking oven mitts?”
Your sister was nowhere to be seen, and you were trying extra fucking hard not to scream at the staff while they squeezed you into this too-tight, leather get up. The endless straps and studs seemed to be purposely placed in the least comfortable places.
“I assure you, Miss Sylvad, this outfit will be highly protective.”
That voice came wafting over from the corner, Uncle’s favorite assistant finally breaking her silence when she slinked toward you. Her unnervingly straight hair was almost hypnotizing as it swayed with her movements.
You scowled at her.
“Funny, I’ve never seen a chef in leather before.”
“Then you haven’t been in the right kitchen,” she teased. “Bethany, please demonstrate to Miss Sylvad how to undress on her own, just in case. Baking can be so messy.”
Darla reached out to touch one of the dangling zippers along your side, and you almost gave in. Almost lunged for her fucking throat.
“It’s been almost two years now, hasn’t it,” you asked instead, letting true pity coat your voice.
“Since what, Miss Sylvad,” she smirked. She was still too fucking close.
“Since you became his favorite,” you soothed, patting her shoulder. “Better set aside all the berry you can now, Darla. When Uncle drops people, they tend not to get back up.”
“There’s no need to be cruel, sweetie,” your mother breezed in with a smoothie. She took a sip while she walked up to you, giving the assistant no choice but to move out of the way.
You were too busy getting a brain freeze to spit one of your usual retorts, although the urge to ask about your sister nearly pushed past the discomfort.
~~~
The courtyard filled with applause at the sight of you, and your Sylvad smile deepened when you imagined the most satisfying ways to silence the vultures. The huge screen showed you strutting down the path, which was the only way you could fucking walk in that domestic dominatrix outfit.
They’d even given you a tiny, studded apron.
Breathe. Just breathe. Don’t let it in.
There she was.
Kat was staring at you, her face comically shocked, and you hoped your own shock didn’t show.
Your sister was seated with the Vinsmoke family, and the brothers seemed to be caught in a loop of gawking at you, and returning their attention to her. Their lustful, puppy dog eyes were comical on their own, but watching them look at her like that flashed too many feelings through you that you didn’t have time to name.
Yeah, it would be weird to marry her favorite.
“May I offer you a ride, Miss Sylvad?”
“A ride,” you asked, almost squeaking when that velvety voice draped over you. You’d been so distracted by your sister, you hadn’t realized that the massive pillars you were heading toward were covered in leather and spurs.
And waiting for you.
“A ride...”
Your head barely reached above his knees, which happened to have deadly looking spikes on them, pointed straight for your throat. Thankfully, Katakuri shifted them away before he kneeled down. He waited for your nod, then grabbed you so gently around the middle, and it took everything in you not to squeal when you soared through the air.
“You can hold onto this if you like, but I promise that I will catch you if you fall.”
“Mhm, thank you,” you hummed nervously to the side of his face, clinging to another large spike on his shoulder that was hidden beneath his scarf.
It was surprisingly warm this high up as you perched on the heat of his body. The feathers of his scarf were comfortable, slightly tickling around you.
“Are you afraid of heights?”
“I think I’m supposed to be,” you joked, earning what you thought was a smile beneath all those feathers. “I don’t know why I thought you’d be taller than these trees.”
“I’m not a giant, Y/N.”
What a voice… If you weren’t scared of getting knocked off of his shoulder by a branch, you might have passed out.
“Just, uh, king-sized then?”
That crimson eye turned its attention to you, and his next words almost did knock you out.
“I hope that you’ll find me… husband-sized, Miss Sylvad. May I set you down?”
“Mhm,” was all you could manage, until you were clinging to his hand again. Your date held you aloft while he sat cross legged on a grassy hill, setting you down in front of the strangest kitchen equipment you’d ever seen. There were two sets of everything for your different sizes, all in neon colors that looked surreal under the golden sky.
Your grin faded for a second when you noticed the staff and their snails in the surrounding trees, but you shook it off.
“What are we making?”
~~~
You were so messy.
“They don’t have to be perfect, Y/N,” Katakuri chuckled while you struggled to shape your dough into circles. “And we need to let the dough rise for an hour before we fry them.”
“An hour?”
“Good things take time.”
He motioned you toward the sink, and you washed yourself up before giggling while you held out the hose for him. His soapy water slid down the side of the hill, and your mind flashed an image of you leaping onto it like a water slide.
“This is a good laugh. I hope to hear more of this one from you.”
Katakuri had frozen you again, your laughter fading while you watched him dry his hands on a towel the size of a rug.
You never thought you’d feel smaller than you had with…
No.
Buggy had a real name.
You’d gotten rid of the names from before. “First love.” “Second love.” They weren’t real.
But what should you call them?
Nothing. Stop thinking about them.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t,” you took a breath, fixing your fucking face. “I’m just thinking about our doughnuts. We really have to wait an hour?”
“Would you like to go somewhere while we wait,” Katakuri’s voice rumbled over you until you shivered. “I can give us some privacy so we can speak freely.”
Privacy.
With this “not a giant,” giant man. A very pretty, giant man.
“I’d like that.”
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~
They had all known this was going to happen, that Y/N would have to date the other men before she could leave with him.
Yet Shanks couldn’t stop feeling like a failure, so he latched onto any idea that might help him fix this.
His current idea was making him sick, but not as sick as Buggy must feel, listening to—
“Looks like we’re not the only ones hoping for a peek,” the red haired Vinsmoke laughed to his brothers.
Shanks needed to get his shit together. He’d noticed the three men before they emerged from the trees, but he’d forgotten why he should care about them.
Normally, they wouldn’t be a threat to him.
The blue haired one stepped up to smirk at him, and Shanks was almost sure his name was Niji.
“The Emperor of the Sea wanted another look, eh,” the blue one asked. “Didn't get enough of our little princess last night? Well, that’s a good sign. I’m looking forward to having a taste for myself.”
“Looks like we’re out of luck,” the green one— Yonji complained, pointing through the trees toward a large hill.
Shanks looked away from the princes so he wouldn’t hurt them. He couldn’t fight, couldn’t risk getting kicked out.
He couldn’t see her through that dome of mochi the massive pirate had caged her in.
She’s okay. She has to be.
“There might not be enough left of her to taste when he’s done with her.”
Shanks had to leave before he killed them, finding his own reclusive spot to stare at the giant wall between him, and the woman his two lovers loved.
Buggy was listening. Or maybe she wasn’t wearing the locket?
It was a small hope that did nothing for his guilt, or the well-deserved hate he’d planted in her.
Mihawk’s golden eyes filled his mind, tears making them impossibly beautiful when he apologized.
When he finally said it back.
It felt like hours went by while he watched that unmoving room. Useless.
I’ve never had… She helped Hawk open up. She made Buggy feel loved. It was her.
Shanks hit the back of his head against the tree he’d leaned on, until he remembered all of those cam-snails in the forest.
So the Emperor tried his best to imitate her. To put on that face. To pretend that everything was alright.
He had no idea how she hid so well. Shanks’ own hidden truths were stuffed so far down that he almost didn’t believe them himself, but she had to lie with every breath.
Y/N has a strength I never knew someone might need. Not like this.
~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~
He wondered how many hours of his life had been drained away in dingy taverns just like this one. Hiding in the darkest corner, a book with a dragon on the cover still unread in his hand, the World’s Greatest Swordsman listened.
Mihawk didn’t expect to hear anything of note here, but he’d landed at Majiatsuka just early enough to book a room for the night. He couldn’t think about anything besides his need to protect her, and resisting his need to hop back on his boat, and go straight there.
“Hey, did you catch the feed tonight,” a red faced patron called out as two other drunks joined his table.
“Shh, Jacob, don’t say that shit so loud,” the one on the right laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “You know the whole thing’s illegal, right?”
“Yeah,” the one on the left spat, “and I know for a fact those assholes would only get a slap on the wrist, but poor folks like us? I don’t wanna know what kinda fine we’d get if we’re caught watching.”
That unread book was shut.
“I really hope they show the good stuff soon,” Right complained, leaning forward with a hushed, slimy tone. “Can you imagine what that giant dick must have done to that rich slut’s cunt?”
“Oh yeah,” Left agreed with a laugh. “I imagined it plenty of times after the feed last night. Can’t wait for that whore to—“
“Jacob, was it?”
Mihawk shoved Left’s headless body to the floor, stealing his chair to sit across from the whimpering man. He ignored the screams while the place cleared out, and he ignored Right’s headless body that was leaking blood onto the sticky table.
He had dirtied Yoru on their weak blood, so he cleaned his blade while Jacob pissed himself.
“Would you like to tell me everything you know about that feed, Jacob,” Mihawk drawled, more death waiting to pour from him. Endless death until he held her again. “Or…”
“I-I’ll tell you, please sir, p-plea—“
“Don’t waste my time, Jacob. Tell me about the feed.”
~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
"I'd like that."
His eyes looked even prettier when you said those words.
He’s still a hunter. He’s still using you. Don’t forget.
“I’m going to use my devil fruit power to create a room around us. No one will be able to see or hear us, but I promise to lower it whenever you wish.”
He’s so careful with me. This leech must really want to win.
Your consent had hardly left your lips before your world became soft and pale, his power enveloping the entire hilltop, including the little kitchen and lamp posts that came with it. He'd kept everything except for the rotating pedestals that the nearest cam-snails had been perched on.
The smell in the air was slightly sweet, but the feeling of being trapped still crept in, almost leaving your throat in a scream.
“It’s alright, Miss Sylvad. I’ll drop it right now if you want me to, but I’d like to talk without the surveillance. I won’t move. I won’t touch you.”
Katakuri’s voice had lost the slight tease he’d been giving you, speaking in an almost businesslike tone.
So he’s good at pretending too.
“Thank you, Katakuri,” you mirrored his tone. “What would you like to speak with me about?”
Here it was. The old, familiar rhythm of negotiation that your dad had spent so many years making sure you understood.
“My little sister has been kidnapped by Emperor Blackbeard. Since my mother was defeated, I am ashamed to admit that we are not equipped to get her back on our own. Pudding is only sixteen, Y/N,” he urged, enough emotion in his words to make you pause, even with your determination to keep him out.
“I’m so sorry, but how can—“
“My family needs this marriage to happen, but I wanted you to know my true intentions. Please, marry one of us, Y/N. With the financial support your uncle has promised, we’ll be able to afford to bring an army with us to get her back.”
Those pretty eyes were urgent now. Almost desperate.
“There is nothing more important to me than protecting my family,” he whispered, although his voice was too large to feel quiet. “I swear that we will care for you. We will protect you with our lives. I’ll get you away from these people, Y/N. You’re an older sister, are you not?”
“Yes, but I’m… I’m sorry, but I can’t make any promises yet. Thank you for telling me the truth.”
A heavy fear gripped your heart, your whole body fighting not to shake beneath this man’s fierce request.
He needed this.
What will he do to get it?
“I understand,” he nodded, taking a breath that could have sucked the air from the room. “We need you, but our relationship doesn’t need to be for duty alone. May I return to showing you the kind of husband I will be?”
“I’d like that.”
The truth of that surprised you, and you would have scolded yourself, but he moved. Stretching out his long legs, he laid on his side, propped up on his elbow.
“You didn’t choose these clothes,” he noted, almost a tease.
“How could you tell?”
Sarcasm, seriously? I really am insane.
“Leather molds to your body when it’s worn regularly. You don’t look very comfortable in that.”
Heat shivered through you, and his eyes went a bit wide.
“I’m sorry, Y/N, I wasn’t trying to—“
Laughter filled that sweet, soft room, a dam of tension breaking loose, and you would have joined him on the ground if your outfit wasn’t so stiff.
“Oh,” you caught your breath, “I’m laughing because you were right, not because I wouldn’t…”
Holy shit, I want to fuck him. There’s that fucking death wish again.
“What have you heard about me, Miss Sylvad?”
Absolutely nothing. Totally blank. Your brain couldn’t recall a single thought until you looked away from him, pacing over the soft ground.
“You’re a Sweet Commander of the Big Mom Pirates,” you started listing the few details you could remember. “You ate the Mochi Mochi fruit. Your bounty is over a billion berries. Uh, you’re not a giant.”
You shrugged when you turned back toward him, and almost lost your thoughts again.
“Oh, and you never lie on your… Are you a side sleeper, then?”
Tingles danced over your skin while Katakuri laughed full out, an overwhelming sound. He leaned his head back, the feathers that covered his face moving with his breath.
“Why didn’t I think of that,” he rasped, still chuckling. “Would have been more comfortable than all the walls I’ve slept against.”
He sighed at the confusion on your face before rolling onto his back.
“So, you do lie on your back, but you sleep sitting up,” you frowned as you walked closer, almost reaching out to touch him.
“It was a lie I told to protect my siblings. A sacrifice that has made me strong for them, but always alone.”
“I’m sorry, Katakuri,” you reached out now, smoothing your palm over the pink skull tattooed on his arm.
“Don’t be,” he hummed, seeming so relaxed while he laid before you. “I recently lost a good battle, and it’s made me wonder if there are better ways that I can be a good brother.”
“Must have been one hell of a fight if Charlotte Katakuri is on his back for a stranger.”
You leaned against his arm, hoping that he’d take the playful tease. All the talk of protecting his siblings was taking your mind to places you’d rather not go.
You’d rather be following that death wish of yours.
“I don’t want you to be a stranger,” he whispered as he rolled back onto his side to look at you. “I want to take you away from these people. I want you to meet my sister, and we can bring yours with us. We can protect them both.”
“I don’t—“
“But my goal for tonight is to help you relax.”
There was absolutely no way you could relax.
“You’ve been doing so well, carrying whatever this weight is that your family has given you,” Katakuri praised. The touch of his fingers along your arm, and stroking down your back, felt dreamlike. Everything was strange and fuzzy.
“Thank you.”
“I have one more thing to share,” he rasped, taking back his hand to touch his scarf. “Hiding was something else I did for a sister. I think that reason is gone now, so all I’m left with are my own fears.”
“Is it fangs,” you breathed, trying to be light. “That’s what my guess is, which is totally fine! I’d be more freaked out if you had puppies under there or something.”
“Puppies,” he huffed a laugh, cocking his head.
“I don’t know,” you squeaked, unable to shut yourself up. “Is it scars? I thought I saw… you know, I actually think that scars are—“
“Cute.”
“Uh, y-yeah,” you froze as a very large finger tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. “That’s not the word I was thinking of, but they can be…”
“You are very cute, Y/N,” Katakuri hummed, and your mind blanked out again. “May I show you?”
You remembered how to nod, and luckily you’d already prepared yourself for what your suitor might be hiding.
That scarf was a small mountain of feathers when he removed it, all that softness gone, and replaced with sharp fangs, and scars that stretched from the corners of his lips to above his ears on either side. His fangs seemed almost like tusks, jutting out to stretch over his lips.
Then he opened his mouth.
“So I was right on both counts,” you gave a nervous smile at the sight of all of the sharp teeth in that mouth, not just the four large fangs that he couldn’t hide. “Do I win a prize?”
You knew that you’d been right about when he’d smiled before as you watched his whole face move with it now.
“Well, I believe it’s almost time to fry our doughnuts.”
~~~
“Mm, fuck! That’s so good, Katakuri.”
He laughed at you then, tossing the rest of the massive doughnuts into his wide mouth that seemed just a little less dangerous when it was filled with sweets.
You still had a plate of the smaller, glazed pastries, but the numbers were dwindling.
“This has been a lovely date,” you hummed, honestly feeling good for the moment. Katakuri had taken your mind away for a while, and it was a gift.
“Would you like it to be over,” he checked in, his brow arching even higher while he scanned you.
He’s still so pretty.
He made you shy, but you were bold enough to shake your head.
“Then would it be alright if I looked at you, pretty thing?”
Holy shit…
Katakuri had barely grazed your hip with his finger, but his voice went so deep, so dark, that you threw your head back, knees almost buckling.
He chuckled, helping you stay balanced while you struggled with all of the stiff bits of leather strapped to your body.
Your locket fell out from where you’d stuffed it into the tight material, and you tried to leave it on the ground. You really tried to leave it behind.
It was a chain of guilt and brightness around your neck, and the best you could do was carry it with you while you tried not to think about drifting further and further away from that daydream of a life.
“You are so beautiful, Y/N. May I create a bed for you so that I can see you better?”
Soon you were lifted up, perched on a mattress made of mochi that was too high for you to relax completely, until you forgot all about it.
“You want me to touch you, don’t you, Y/N,” he asked in that tone that sent you reeling. He had set you up a little higher than his shoulders, and he leaned over you, his face so close as he took in a breath. “Gods, you smell so sweet.”
Why am I already whimpering?
“I’m going to touch you now, but let me know—“
“Touch me, Katakuri, please!”
The sound he made when you begged made you arch your back, but then you were gasping, fear creeping back in as he spread your legs. He held your thighs apart with his hands while he stared at you like you were a treat for him to eat.
“I’ll be careful,” he breathed, a soothing threat while his sharp mouth hung open at the sight of you. “I’ll keep my head right here. Let me taste you, please. Let me fuck my tongue into you. I’ll be so—”
“Please! Gods, please— oh gods, oh f-fuck.”
Katakuri…
Katakuri’s tongue felt so good, so insanely good. You’d never thought to imagine what a tongue that size could do, but the press of it, the strength, the size, had you twitching and begging within seconds.
And he’d told the truth. He was so careful. Careful to hold your twitching legs so they wouldn’t go near his fangs. Careful to keep his mouth away from your skin, just his tongue reaching out.
That was all he needed.
“Kata-Katakuri…”
The precision he had was unbelievable. The flick of that huge tongue kept finding your clit over and over, and his pleased moans vibrated through you like a toy, an incredible toy. Then he did what you’d begged for.
Your nails looked so small digging into the back of his hands. He went slow, but soon his tongue was inside you, making you forget the world again.
“Don’t stop,” you begged weakly, surprised you could speak at all while the mochi bed sank toward the ground.
“We don’t have to stop,” he promised, smiling down at you while he traced his fingers over your skin. “But the bells are ringing outside. I believe our time is up.”
You whined.
“Does this mean that you’d like to see me again,” he laughed while you still struggled to move.
“I don’t think I’m supposed to answer that,” came your grumbled response.
“Mm, what about now?”
Katakuri had brought you one of those giant towels, but he dropped it to trace his finger all the way up your thigh, barely touching the twitching, needy flesh he’d just tasted.
“Fuck, yes. Please.”
“Good girl. I’m gonna take such good care of you, Y/N. My cute, little bride.”
~~~
No favorites. No least favorites.
Over and over and over.
You hadn’t expected to have any favorites, and you were pissed that you already seemed to have them mapped out.
Uncle Cedrick would use it against you, so it was better not to care either way, but your stupid brain wouldn’t stop.
Katakuri had joined your family for breakfast, so polite as he sat on the grass by the patio.
“What is your role, Kathryn?”
“Role,” Kat frowned at him.
“Position,” he tried again, glancing at you. “What do you do?”
“Kathryn is invested in her family,” Cedrick bragged, before scowling at you for speaking at the same time.
“Kat’s been studying business. Have you started your masters program yet,” you asked cheerfully, hating yourself for not asking sooner.
“No,” she mumbled as she caught your uncle’s gaze. “Too much family stuff going on.”
…
“I brought you all some doughnuts.”
~~~
Today’s hunt was for the “truth.” It had been your choice, but you were sick of this shit already.
“You’re a dog person,” Niji declared while his eyes traveled down your body.
“Well, I love dogs, but we’ve always had—“
“You don’t like spicy food.”
Oh thank gods, the bells.
~~~
Each hunter had to submit a list of their own questions, along with their guesses at what your answers would be. A lazy idea, but it was giving you a glimpse into what they thought of you.
“You really like my brother.”
“I don’t think it’s fair for me to answer that either way,” you teased.
How does he keep his hair from burning with those sparks?
Cracker gave you another maniacal grin, his bare chest like a wall that kept you from checking your Uncle’s expression. Yours was on display again, spread across the side of the building, so you did your best to school it.
“That’s alright. Everyone likes my brother. But you… You’re a picky eater.”
You gave him the win. It was true enough when it came to the food your family served.
~~~
“Redwoods are your favorite trees.”
“That’s right, Mr… Iceburg,” you smiled. You still hadn’t trained yourself to hate him for being here, for being a leech. He was still Mr. Iceburg in your mind, and that held too much weight.
He’d guessed the most truths so far, and that teenage crush of yours wanted to crush all of your caution away when he patted you on the head at the end of his turn.
Stupid brain.
~~~
“You like cookies.”
“I’m not sure if that counts, Emperor Shanks,” you flirted while you planned his gruesome death.
“You’re right, who doesn’t like cookies,” he smiled that infuriatingly charming smile. “I think that you like to dance, but might need a little more practice.”
More images flashed in your mind. Too fast. Too real.
His pulse against your skin. His strong fingers controlling you, digging into your hip while he pressed himself—
The ringing of those bells was your new favorite sound.
“I’ll give you that one, Shanks.”
You covered your hate with fluttering lashes, and a gentle bite to the lip that he always loved to stare at.
He wasn’t staring at it today.
Hot rage turned to icy fear when you saw that look in his soft eyes. Like he was seeing too far, too deep.
What did he see?
~~~
Giberson already smelled like whiskey when he folded his lanky body into the chair across from you. You were more jealous than anything else, wishing that you could numb this shitty lunch away.
“How are you doing, my dear?”
“Well, thank you, sir.”
“Oh no,” he laughed, that sharp smell getting stronger when he opened his mouth too wide. “Just call me Gibby. That’s what my friends call me.”
“Of course, Gibby,” you smiled. You knew you could do this. You could feel all the eyes on your skin. Appeasing an old man was nothing.
Just boring.
“Alright, where should we begin?”
The old man cleared his throat loudly, squinting at a notebook he’d pulled from his jacket, the silk lining gleaming in the sun.
“You received your degrees from Pucci University. Excellent school,” he hummed while you tried not to frown. “I would have expected a Sylvad to attend an older institution, given your connections, but I’m sure that the food alone had to be worth it. Did you enjoy your time in the Gourmet City?”
“I did...”
“Well, let’s keep going. We are on a time limit after all, and I’ve been looking forward to having you all to myself,” he winked before diving back into his notebook.
The Concealer. Information broker. Emperor of the Underworld.
What the fuck did he find?
“Ahh, you worked at Polestar Principal Bank, I believe? Upstanding establishment, and just a ferry ride away from Loguetown too. Did you meet any interesting pirates when you weren’t making the rich even richer?”
“W-well—“
“And I noticed that your family always moved with you when you went to a new island,” Giberson beamed, flicking the paper while he nodded. “I just love those strong family bonds. Shows true value.”
Smile. That was a compliment.
You didn’t believe the lie, but hoped that your face sold it while shame poured through you. Your eyes darted over to your sister against your will, finding her strained smile to reinforce your guilt.
Wherever you moved, your family had followed, dropping Kat’s life away every time.
“You enjoy reading fantasy novels, eating spicy food, and you’ve always loved cats.”
“Yes, I—“
“St. Poplar is your family’s original home. I saw that you attended St. Poplar Private School, but took a year off for independent studies before you returned to graduate at the top of your class. It’s strange though, I couldn’t find a scrap of information about that year, and it’s been bothering me for weeks now. Were you traveling abroad? I didn’t find any records of travel, or salaries for home tutors, or…”
Breathing. Were you breathing?
Eyes. So many eyes.
“Oh, dearie me,” Giberson sighed, setting down his evil notebook. “Please, forgive an old man his forgetfulness. That was after your father passed, was it not? Well, I’m grateful that you were able to take that time to be with your family, and I’m so sorry for—“
“It’s fine,” you lied in a voice that was too high, and too fucking fragile. “Do you have any other truths to guess?”
“It’s not a guess if it’s the truth,” Giberson teased while he raised his boozy drink, the ringing of bells coming to your rescue too late. “You are the loveliest, little lady in the New World.”
~~~
Having private conversations in front of servants had never felt comfortable, but this shit show kept leaving you with no other choice.
Tonight’s outfit was thankfully close to “normal” clothes, but hair and makeup were still taking too long to wait for privacy, and Kat had started first.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here yesterday.”
You snorted at her little grimace, knowing that you were probably the only person she ever apologized to.
“Sorry, it’s all good,” you appeased her narrowed eyes.
Your sister had clearly been making an effort to be positive around you since you arrived, but it was comforting to see her being more herself.
“Did you have a good time with the Vinsmokes?”
“Yeah, it was alright,” Kat brushed off, but she pinched her fingers together in her lap, and that odd guilt crept back in. “How was your date with Katakuri?”
“It was surprisingly lovely,” you rushed, ignoring her raised brows while you pushed on. “Do you not want me to marry a Vinsmoke? Because I can try not to end up with your favorite. I wouldn’t want you to—“
“Stop worrying about me,” your sister scolded, shaking her head while she huffed a laugh. “I actually wouldn’t mind being their sister-in-law. I’d love to go see their tech. Fucking hover boots? Honestly, you should marry one of them just for the shoes. I think you’d like their sister too, I hope you get to meet her soon. Their dad seems like a dick, but…”
The lead makeup artist caught your scowl when he blocked your view, so he turned your spinning chair, letting you see your sister’s flustered face.
“Are you sure,” you checked in again, too much guilt to stamp out so quickly.
“Would you shut the fuck up already,” Kat rolled her eyes. “You’re about to go on a date with a two story tall merman. I don’t need you to protect my feelings. I don’t even have any feelings about this, alright? I promise.”
…
“Cut it out,” she groaned at your searching eyes, “and tell me all about your lovely date with that giant, leather boy.”
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
~~~~~~
~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~
~~~
~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~
kitty kat’s gonna wake up.
Loud noises had woken you. Loud, angry noises.
“You really think I can’t do math, Delaine?” Daddy’s voice sounded scary. “Whatever that thing is in there, it’s not mine.”
“Please, Arbo.” Mommy was crying. “Kathryn was premature, you heard what the doctor said.”
Mommy and Daddy were fighting about little Kitty Kat.
“Doctors that accept bribes tend to accept even higher bribes, wife.”
You couldn’t open the crib, and you knew you shouldn’t. You weren’t strong enough, or tall enough to climb inside with your little sister, so you dragged one of your chairs over to stand on, and reached your hands through the bars.
“It’s okay, Kitty Kat,” you whispered as you covered her tiny ears, pressing your face between the wooden bars to watch her breathe.
You didn’t want Sissy to be scared.
“Since you’re done denying it, why don’t you tell me who you were out fucking when you should have been with our daughter? How often did you leave her with the governess so you could go sink your claws into some other poor bastard?”
Daddy sounded mad, and sad.
“And where were you, husband?” That didn’t sound like Mommy. She sounded mean. “You expect me to wait around for months while you're out working, only for you to bore me to death when you grace us with your presence? Oh, please, Arbo! I just need to hear another one of your math stories. Please–”
why are they hurting each other? why won’t they stop?
“Shh, Kitty Kat, everything’s gonna be okay.” Sissy was starting to make little noises, and you couldn’t let her hear.
“Who was it?”
“Arbo–”
“WHOSE BABY IS THAT, DELAINE?”
“Daddy… Shh, Sissy. We’re okay.”
“S–Samson. It was Samson. Please, don’t hurt him, Arbo.”
“I’m not going to hurt the fucking chauffeur.” Daddy laughed. Scary laughs. Sad laughs. “I’m going to do him a favor, and make sure he never has to see your face again. Set him up with a nice job on the other side of the fucking planet.”
“Thank–”
“Don’t you dare thank me. You know what? You’ve got two choices, Delaine. Take his baby, and go live out your happy life with that unlucky chauffeur, or get your shit together, and pretend.”
“What–”
“If you want to keep being ‘Mrs. Sylvad,’ which I know you love more than your own family, then you need to put in the fucking work. Think you can do that, Delaine? Can you pretend to be a loving mother? A happy wife? That’s all I’ll ever ask of you, since I know there’s no real heart in that hollow chest of yours. Can you pretend?”
…
“Of course, Arbo, dear.” That sounded like Mommy. “I’ll do anything to make things right. Whatever will make you happy.”
“Just keep pretending. I’m taking my daughter to the East wing.”
“But… of course, husband. Let me know if I can help with anything.”
~~~
“Hi, sweet– oh, angel, no! Shh, shh, Daddy’s here.”
Daddy rushed toward you, wiping your tears as he pulled you away from Sissy’s crib. He looked scared, and you couldn’t stop yourself from crying.
He carried you out before you woke her up, walking so fast until you were far away when he set you down.
“Daddy’s so sorry, sweetheart. We didn’t mean to scare you. You were protecting your– protecting Kathryn, weren’t you?”
“Why were you and Mommy so loud?”
Daddy was crying.
“We were just talking, sweetheart, we’re okay. Everything’s okay, Y/N, I promise.”
Daddy was lying.
“Okay, Daddy.”
i can pretend for daddy. i can help him be happy again.
~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~
~~~
~⚫~SUMMARY~⚫~
The scene above is from the reader’s POV as a small child. She woke up to hear her parents arguing loudly about her baby sister, so she reached through the bars of the crib to cover Kat’s ears so she wouldn’t wake up, and get scared.
During the argument, Arbo accused Delaine of cheating, and asked who Kat’s father was. She admitted to the infidelity after Arbo implied that he had bribed the doctor she had bribed to keep it a secret. She told him that it was Samson, their chauffeur.
Arbo accused Delaine of neglecting the reader during her affair, while Delaine accused Arbo of expecting her to wait for months, and of “boring her” when he returned from business trips.
Arbo gave Delaine the option to take Kat, and go live with the chauffeur, or continue to be “Mrs. Sylvad,” by pretending to be a good wife and mother, and stated that he believed she cared more about that than her own family. Delaine agreed to pretend.
From the reader’s very young POV, she noticed that they both cried at different times, that Arbo often sounded mad, scary, or sad, and that Delaine sounded mean, and then “like Mommy again,” after she agreed to pretend.
Arbo came to get his daughter to stay with him in the East wing, and found the reader with her hands over Kat’s ears. He panicked and carried the reader away. He apologized for scaring her, and told the reader that they had just been talking, and that everything was okay.
The very young reader knew that he was lying, but decided that she would pretend too, so that she could help her dad be happy again.
~⚫~SUMMARY~⚫~
~~~
~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
This prince was already out of the game, but you were good at pretending. It helped that your costume for Fukaboshi’s date made you feel like a princess instead of a sex doll.
The crowd was still applauding while the platform lifted you into the air. Your light, flowy dress moved like gentle waves in the breeze, matching the shifting, ocean colors of the fabric.
You could have gone without all the shells in your hair, and the iridescent scales that were painted around your temples, your shoulders, and along the backs of your hands and wrists.
Fukaboshi’s soft smile was worth it though, as soft as shark teeth could be.
“Good evening, Y/N,” he tilted his head toward you, his mane of hair falling forward like glittering curtains. “You are as beautiful as sunlight on the water.”
No favorites. No least favorites.
~~~
“How did you know this was my favorite spot,” you beamed, trying not to feel woozy on the platform that had been perched atop your favorite cliff.
“I merely searched for the most beautiful waves on the island. You must know these waters well,” Fukaboshi praised, filling you with a strange pride for such a small thing.
You did know them well.
Fukaboshi’s people treated you like a princess, doting on you like you were already theirs. They caught and cooked your food before the sky grew dark. There was music, and stories, and dancers, and it should have been lovely, but with every moment, the tide crept further in.
Soon the waves were crashing loudly along the staggered cliffs, just barely reaching over the edge in a cascade of white that would grow and grow.
It had always been your favorite spot to scream.
“They are no longer listening to us.”
“Hmm?”
“I spoke too loudly the other day, didn’t I,” the prince sighed, glancing around at the now empty cliff. “My mother was never quiet in the face of injustice, but it seems that I have lost my chance now. You will be sending me home soon, will you not?”
Your mouth opened, but you took too long to lie.
“They are not listening, but I understand your caution. I want you to know that even if I do not get the resources my people need, I will still help you. We can leave right now, if you wish.”
Fear, hope, grief, and guilt all hit your veins like poison until you almost cried out in pain. Yet, you smiled. Not your Sylvad smile, but a true, sad curve to your lips before you could answer.
“I am so grateful for the offer, Fukaboshi, but I have to stay. I have my own responsibilities, and I won’t abandon them again.”
Silence rolled in, gentler than the growing tide.
“It may seem a strange thing to say given our situation, but you remind me of my mother.”
“Oh?” You didn’t know what kind of smile to give.
The merman pulled a locket the size of your face from a satchel at his side, and you turned to let the soft lights of the lanterns below show you what it held.
“That’s your… mom?” You’d left out the rudest word in that shocked sentence, but there was absolutely no way that tiny woman could have physically birthed him. No way she could have been with the person who had to be King Neptune, his face not even in the picture because he towered over her so thoroughly. “She was beautiful.”
“Yes,” he nodded slowly, looking at the picture before tucking it away. “But she was also strong. Fearless.”
Your memory finally kicked in, and Queen Otohime’s assassination formed into something real, not just words on a page.
“I apologize,” Fukaboshi smiled. “You are carrying a weight, and I have added more.”
“No, it’s fine,” you didn’t lie. Sometimes just seeing pain that looked like yours felt like relief, a tiny respite from loneliness. Still, you tried to make things light. “I’ve been wondering about that bubble around your waist. Is it like the ones at Sabaody? I didn’t think they could last this far from the mangrove.”
Why am I so bad at making things light?
“So you’ve been to the archipelago,” the prince questioned. There was just a hint of anger in his words, but that hint felt very large as it shook through his enormous form.
“I… we have a home there. It was mainly for business, but my dad would always bring me so I could see the trees. I haven’t been there since I was a kid.”
Sweet memories of bubble rides turned vile when you remembered how privileged you were.
“Well, I hope that you did not have to witness what my people are subjected to there. Children should be protected from such ugliness. Unfortunately, the rest of the world seems to ignore or relish in that ugliness, and my people suffer the price.”
“I’m so sorry, Fukaboshi.”
The stars were difficult to see on the water now, the tide slamming against the cliffs again and again until the air was filled with salt. The prince stared at the spray, his fists clenching, almost shaking, and you hated that you could do nothing for him besides letting him leave, or getting him killed.
“My sister was chained while the celestial demons laughed at her tears,” he growled, shaking the wood beneath your feet. “I was forced to watch in silence with the crowd of cowards that are meant to govern this world. They were going to make her their pet!”
This terrifying, two story tall prince bared his teeth, raging at the sky, yet you were still far more afraid of the people he despised.
“The Dragons…”
“There is no way for me to salvage this, is there,” Fukaboshi implored, his breath heavy.
You took too long to lie.
“Let me help you, at least,” he begged, dipping his head toward you. “I cannot see your chains, but I know that they are there. These monsters are using you for their entertainment. I don’t want to leave you here like this.”
Living under the sea might have been nice.
“Thank you,” you choked out. You couldn’t afford to feel this. Even without the eyes on you, you couldn’t afford to cry anymore.
You might never stop.
“I’m sorry, but I have to stay. I left before, and…” Stop it. That crack in your voice was too much. You had to stop.
Bells.
They were distant, but ringing closer while you stared into the eyes of a truly good man that you wanted to send home this instant. He didn’t deserve to rot with these leeches. This prince needed to get as far away from you and your Sylvad smile as possible.
“It has been an honor to meet you, Y/N,” Fukaboshi hummed before the leeches and their snails arrived. “If you ever need a friend in the water, you will find a country’s worth when I tell my people of your kindness and strength.”
“Please, I haven’t done anything to deserve such high praise.”
“I would not survive a challenge such as this, yet you face it with a warrior’s will,” he praised, filling you with a strange pride for such a lie. “I hope that your responsibilities do not keep you from finding true happiness.”
There was no time to answer before your privacy was stripped away again, so the prince joined you in silence. The tide carried your rage for you, violent sprays of white dancing along the cliff.
It would have felt so good to scream, but at least you knew that another kind soul existed in this world.
At least you knew that he’d be free of you soon.
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
~~~~~~
~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~
“What the fuck are you doing, mom?”
“Y/N, please, calm down,” your mom tried to soothe while you grabbed her nearest belongings to throw against the wall.
You hadn’t been in this manor since you were little, and hated that you had to step into it now. College was supposed to be your escape, but they’d all just picked up and followed you to the nearest family property. You tried to pretend they didn’t exist, but your last call with Kitty had sent you into a rage.
“She’s only in high school, mom, she’s still a kid! I really thought you cared more for her, but you don’t give a fuck, do you? All you do is pretend.”
“Y/N, you have no idea what the world is really like,” she condescended, her chin lifting just a bit. “You have no idea what I have had to–”
“Save your sob story for someone who gives a fuck, mother,” you snarled in her face.
It probably should have worried you how satisfying her gasp felt when she backed up against the wall. Nowhere to hide from your anger now.
“If you let him marry her off, especially to a fucking Dragon, then you won’t get a single berry from me. So figure it out, mom. Will you get more money from selling your youngest daughter or your oldest daughter, because you can’t do both, you greedy bitch.”
All that satisfying fear on her face melted away, leaving Mommy with her perfect smile.
“Of course, sweetie. I’ll try to convince him to wait, but your uncle just wants what’s best for her, and for our family.”
“I don’t care,” you breathed rage against her mask. “I’ll kill you both before I let one of those monsters touch her. I’ll make you poor, and dead. Don’t forget, your daughter’s not well!”
A satisfying hint of fear showed in her eyes before you walked away, harsh laughter following you through the halls.
Your laughter.
~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
That was a lot.
A giggle left your throat at the dumb thought, and at the sound of all the shells falling from your hair beneath the too hot water.
I’m not strong. Not kind. Not brave.
The sick guilt in your heart made you want to run across the island to find the prince and beg his forgiveness for making him think that you were anything more than a selfish, entitled, rich girl. You weren’t doing anything special.
Just trying to fix your mistake. Your failure.
Trying to run from the cowardice and selfishness that had haunted you since you tried to run the first time.
Then the second time.
And the third time was the charm.
So selfish. Selfish piece of shit. I just left her. Abandoned her.
You tried to take the locket off. It was comfort and torture.
It was proof that true love existed, and it was a reminder of what a disgustingly selfish bitch you were. You had left your sister to the wolves, so you could go have an adventure, and let a bunch of pirates fuck you like a whore.
The warm metal dug into your palm as you gripped it, but you couldn’t take it off.
My last selfish thing.
You pleaded with yourself, bargaining with your own thoughts as you crumpled to the floor in defeat. Sobs built up in your throat, and you didn’t have the strength to fight them.
Never again. I won’t be selfish again.
I’ll protect her.
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~
“So what were your big, evil plans?”
“What are you asking me,” Crocodile arched a brow at the man. He tugged on Buggy’s hair, his lips curving into a smile before he caught a hint of fear in those crystal eyes.
He didn’t want to see that fear anymore, especially since his brave, little clown kept trying. Buggy had even told him about Red Hair’s shit with Y/N’s father yesterday, because “secrets keep fucking shit up.”
His clown had made him promise not to kill the pretty boy, though. Not for that, at least.
“Sorry, that’s a dumb question. What, uh…” Buggy panicked, remembering how grumpy the man got whenever someone mentioned Baroque Works. “Where did you grow up?”
“You wanna get to know me better, so you start with my evil plans,” Crocodile stopped laughing enough to tease. He had to hold his breath when he saw the clown grinning at him, practically glowing.
“Well, we are bad guys after all.”
“We’re not the true villains of this world,” he rasped, taking a swig of scotch before returning his hand to that lovely, blue hair. “But now our guild gets to hit back.”
“I thought Mihawk was the one with a grudge. ‘The Marine Hunter,’ right? I wonder what that’s—“
Buggy turned to ice when that large hand gripped under his chin to tilt his head up, but he melted under Crocodile’s soft gaze.
It still didn’t make any sense.
“What about you, little clown?”
“Me? I just,” Buggy cleared his throat, heat moving up his neck, his face.
This man was overwhelming.
“I wanted to find treasure,” he shrugged, the lightness leaving his voice too fast. “Now I just wanna find her.”
Crocodile’s chest felt tight every time Buggy’s voice dipped like that. Everyone was hurting. He hadn’t kept any of them safe from pain.
“I wanted to build a place, a home, where I could protect everyone I cared about from those true villains,” he recalled, the shame of that failure hitting differently now. “I wanted to keep my people safe, but I got too… All I cared about was my big, evil plan, until I didn’t have anyone left to protect.”
The silence between them was soft, and Crocodile let out a breath when a gloved hand touched his.
“Well, daddy,” Buggy soothed with a laugh, “you’ve got a bunch of freaks to look after now. Do you—“
The snail.
The one for agents. And Mihawk.
Buggy’s hands flew toward Crocodile’s giant desk to answer while they clambered off the couch.
“Good evening, sir.”
“Zala,” Crocodile relaxed, still pulling out his notepad. “What’s the mission status? Is Marianne—“
“Hey boss, it was amazing! We should definitely go on more heist missions after some PTO.”
“Are you saying the mission’s complete? You only arrived in San Faldo yesterday. How did you infiltrate it so quickly?”
Crocodile reached out to gently nudge Buggy’s nervously bouncing body parts behind him so he wouldn’t be distracted while he stared at the snail. The clown mumbled his apology, sending his fidgeting limbs to the corner of the room while his head floated above the desk.
“All I had to do was cry, and scream a little, and they locked me right up,” Marianne reported, cheerfully. “Creepy place to put an asylum, though. Every time I looked out a window I saw people in masks. Yikes.”
“Masks,” Buggy asked quietly.
“It’s that carnival city near Water 7,” Crocodile hushed, returning to his own questions. “Zala, what’s your report?”
“Marianne is right, we made a great team.”
“It was so badass, you should’ve—“
“She was able to use the fingerpaints during art therapy to color trap the staff while I used my spikes as lock picks. It was child’s play.”
“I didn’t wanna mess with the patients though, so I hope you don’t mind that we let them out. After I made all their mean nurses cry and drool first, of course. They really liked that.”
“She’s scary,” Buggy praised, impressed with the terrifying teen.
“Well, what did you find on him?”
“Oh, we didn’t find anything on the doctor,” Marianne drawled, and the sound of frantic snapping came through.
Luckily, Zala’s voice cut in before Crocodile’s veins could pop.
“There wasn’t anything useful on Dr. Vorsan, but we did find something on the CFO.”
“A lot of somethings actually.”
“Marianne, why don’t you go check on them? Make sure they're alright?”
“What the fuck are you talking about,” Buggy growled, his whole body connected now as he spoke too close to the snail.
The scarred man reached out to calm him, but felt his own sickness start to fester, coiling in his stomach.
“Well, Miss Sylvad was listed as a former patient, so we looked for her files, and she had two cabinets dedicated to her.”
“You didn’t read them, did you?”
Buggy wasn’t breathing right.
“Of course not, Mr. President,” the agent assured, some fear coming through her voice now. “We brought all of her files with us, but there’s more.”
“Definitely more,” Marianne noted, her voice sounding closer as she went on. “I’m glad we stopped for more food, they look hungry.”
“Explain.”
“Right away, sir.”
“Yes, Mr. Zer—Executive Crocodile, sir,” Marianne stuttered, finally sounding serious, but Zala took the lead.
“Some of the patient files included cam-snails with their initials and dates on the shells. I assume they’re recordings of sessions. Most patients that had recordings only had one or two snails in the group enclosure.”
“How many does she have,” Buggy choked out. He was shaking, even with Crocodile’s warm hand on his back.
“At least thirty, Mr. President,” Marianne said gently.
Gentleness couldn’t ease the chaos inside him.
“ETA,” Crocodile managed, having to pull back his own shaky hand.
“About fourteen days. The soonest would be eleven if Daz can snag us a coated ship before we meet at Sabaody. We picked up the other agents too, so we shouldn’t run into any issues getting through.”
“That’s too late. Buggy, whatever’s in there could–”
“I’m not letting random people watch Y/N’s–watch whatever’s on those snails! It’s bad enough that I’m already listening, and all those people are watching her all the time. It’s not right!”
“Sir, we did steal their encryption snail,” Zala offered. “They must have used it for patient privacy, but the white snail is ours now, and it’s already set up to transmit.”
“Transmit…”
“Yes, Mr. President. If you have a healthy pro-snail, we could securely transmit the recordings to you one at a time. We wouldn’t need to watch them ourselves.”
“No,” Buggy sneered at the larger man, who grimaced before giving orders.
“Wait for our call, agents. We’re gonna talk it out.”
“No, we’re not watching them. It’s too much!”
“Sir, there’s one more thing you should know,” Zala hurried, not pausing before she let it out. “There were instructions on care, and data transfer from old to young snails, as well as backup transmission logs dating back years. Someone else has all of these recordings.”
…
“Sir, are you still there?”
“We’ll call you back.”
~~~
“She keeps getting violated! No fucking PRIVACY! We can’t watch them without her permission, we can’t do it. Please, Crocodile,” Buggy raged through the air, until she started to cry, too far away for him to hold.
Buggy was learning how to go empty like she did, and it chilled Crocodile to the bone. He guided his clown to slump onto that green couch again, wanting to take away the pain that kept making that painted face crumple.
“Let me do it, little clown,” he whispered, kissing his temple.
“No, she wouldn’t want…” Buggy’s voice broke.
Those distant sobs were too much to take.
“Remember that night you helped me carry our girl out of Adam’s room?”
“Yeah,” he frowned, not sure if he should go along with the distraction.
“You said you wanted–”
“I am taking care of her,” the clown snarled, pulling away from the comfort his star couldn’t feel. “We shouldn’t watch.”
Crocodile leaned back, resisting his old ways that had earned him nothing but pain and loneliness.
“Our sweet girl told me something that night, Buggy,” he confessed, watching his clown’s face shift from rage to confusion. “I don’t think she meant to tell me, and she made me promise not to tell anyone.”
“So don’t–”
“I’ll never tell,” he vowed again, and might have smiled at the way Buggy’s head tilted if he didn’t need him to say yes so badly. “But I’m pretty sure I know why Y/N was in that asylum. I’ll watch the recordings, so you don’t have to, and no one else will.”
Crocodile begged now, choking on his old, miserable soul.
“Please, let me help her too, Buggy. Let me help my sweet girl.”
Buggy stared up at that frightening man, and at the hint of tears that threatened to spill down that scarred face.
He really does love her.
Now Buggy reached for the comfort that his star couldn't feel. He clung to that warmth, squeezing tighter when those hums of surprise and satisfaction vibrated through that massive body.
“Little clown…”
“Protect her,” Buggy gave in, exhaustion nearly stealing his voice. She was still sobbing in his head, still losing her fight to keep her pain inside.
“Our girl needs you. She needs her Daddy.”
~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~
The ex-Warlord didn’t want to do it in here. He’d helped Y/N fall apart right over there, so beautiful in the dress Mihawk had picked out. Always so beautiful.
But it would take too long to set up another room, and he couldn’t make her wait over his own selfish wish to keep that memory untouched. Even if she never said it back, never felt it, she had opened him up. Crocodile had told his sweet girl that he loved her in this fancy conference room.
Now he’d locked himself inside that room with two snails, and a bottle of scotch, about to ruin that memory.
He couldn’t think about it while he waited. Just let the thick smoke of his cigar fill his mouth, the feel of it unable to calm him while he doodled a little bananawani in the corner of his notepad.
He never got to show her…
“Zala?”
“Yes sir, are–”
“I’m ready. Send the first transmission.”
“Right away, sir. I believe this is the oldest recording. We’ll try to go in order, but it’s a little difficult keeping them all lined up.”
“Just send it.”
~~~
~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~
Fifteen. She said she was fifteen when he died, so this can’t be too long after that.
The image was cleaner than it should be. All the care and transfer to young snails must have kept the recording from degrading, even after all these years.
Y/N’s young face was so clear on the projector screen, so clear that he almost walked to it, until the snail backed away from just her face, showing her at a table, slumped against the wall. Her eyes were almost crossed, staring into nothing.
Then a voice came.
‘Good morning, Y/N, it’s Dr. Vorsan. Could you repeat your name for me?’
Sick laughter poured from the child’s lips, and Crocodile felt his long-neglected heart breaking more with every second it went on.
‘I don’t need to repeat it. You know it. You all know it.’
‘Everyone here wants to help you, Y/N. We want you to get well.’
‘And I want you to fucking DIE! Haha HA!! That's right, you piece of shit, I’m going to fucking KILL YOU!! You think you can– FUCK YOU, don’t fucking touch me! DONTFUCKINGTOUCHMMMN—‘
Nurses had swarmed her, blocking his view, but not before he noticed the restraints at her wrists. Her skin looked raw, like she’d tried to tear herself free with her nails, tried to tear through her own flesh.
Crocodile didn’t notice the long lines his hook had already torn into the conference table.
He could see her again, and he memorized every face around her, every hand that held her trapped. One nurse even covered her lips until she bit them, only to let out another vile laugh before she cried.
‘No, please, don’t. Don’t touch me!’
‘It’s okay, Y/N. You’re not well. Just breathe, we’ll help you through this.’
The doctor’s offscreen voice didn’t stop her from snarling and pleading while another nurse stuck her with a needle.
Y/N’s eyes started to flutter, her rage slowing until she was practically drooling, barely able to hold herself up in the wheelchair they dumped her in.
‘daddy, please…’
She was so quiet.
‘why’d you leave me here, daddy?’
~~~
Crocodile stared into nothing when the recording faded out, his ears ringing with a rage that could have drained the whole island of life.
He couldn’t think. Almost charged through the door to find a fucking boat. Almost destroyed everything in sight.
My girl. My sweet girl.
The scarred man chugged half of the scotch since he knew he’d break the bottle soon, before making the call.
“Hello sir, did the–”
“Send the next one.”
~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~
~~~
~⚫~SUMMARY~⚫~
The above scene is from Crocodile’s POV as he watched a recording of the reader. The recording showed the reader at the age of fifteen, not long after her father passed.
She was restrained at a table, and Dr. Vorsan’s voice came from off screen. He told her that they were trying to help her get well. The reader reacted with unsettling laughter, cursing, and death threats.
Nurses were shown holding her down while she resisted, and ultimately gave her a shot that made her slump into a wheelchair. She called for her dad softly, asking why he had left her there.
Crocodile struggled with fury at not being able to help her. He drank, and called Zala to transmit the next recording.
~⚫~SUMMARY~⚫~
~~~
~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
“Y/N, what happened? Did he hurt you?”
Kat growled her rage, her fingers digging into your skin while she struggled to pull you onto her lap.
“N-no, he didn’t,” you coughed, then sobbed, then tried again. “He’s a good p-person.”
“Well, if good people make you cry like this, I’m glad we don’t get a lot of them around here.”
Laughs and sobs.
And shame.
So fucking selfish. Making her take care of me again. Always about me. Fucking entitled brat, selfish bitch, weak—
“I’m so sorry, Kat,” you begged. Your pathetic sniveling came out muffled as you wrapped your arms around your head, curling in on yourself.
“Sis, you’re okay. You’re safe. I’m safe. Why do you keep apologizing?”
Her fingers stroked along the side of your face, the parts that weren’t hidden by your shaking arms. Every memory of your failures as a sister filled your throat, threatening to spill and burn the world like lava.
“I left you.”
Kat blinked slowly. Then frowned that perfect frown before she shook you, shocking your sobs away for a moment.
“Don’t fucking do this! I’m a full ass adult, sis. I told you I didn’t want to run off with your clown, remember? Hey?”
Her words should have found their way inside, but you had already slipped out of yourself, your body limp, and useless beside her.
Your sister sighed, returning to gentle touches that didn’t feel real.
“I don’t need you to protect me anymore,” she whispered, somehow reaching that floating part of you as though she knew where your mind had flown. “And if you only came back for that, then I need you to get the fuck out.”
A soft whine hit your throat, your body moving slowly.
“You really want to be with those pirates,” Kat asked, voice soft and low while she studied your heavy eyes. “I don’t want you here if it’s going to tear you up like this. Maybe we can… I’m not watched like you are. Do you want me to try to call them? If I tell them you want to go back… I don’t know what they could do, but we can try.”
A million years were held inside you now. A million years to make the right choice.
“I’m sorry, Kat, I didn’t want to tell you... You were right. I don’t ever want to see those murderers— those monsters again. I shouldn’t have left. I should have listened to you.”
The best lies were true, but when truth was lost, you had to use what remained.
You used the agonizing grief of losing your love to sell your tears, and you used every shred of hate you held for that traitor to make yourself believe your own rage.
“Did they hurt you?”
You took too long, letting silence lie for you.
“I’m going to kill those fuckers. I bet we could hire someone to do it. Let me talk to Uncle—“
“Please don’t, Kat! I don’t want anyone else to know. I just want to forget it, all of it.”
It’s not a lie. It’s not a lie.
“Are you okay,” she asked after staring at you for long enough that you were afraid you'd failed again. Exhaustion fell on you, but you gave a weak smile at her question.
Another Sylvad specialty.
“I’m trying.”
You had missed those narrowed eyes so very much.
“Really, I want to be here, Kitty Kat,” you told the truth, laughing at the instinctual eye roll she gave at the old nickname. “I’m just having a rough time right now.”
“Have you ever not had a rough time? It feels like I’m related to a tragedy sometimes.”
Kat looked so pleased with herself when your jaw dropped, wiggling away from you when your shaky fingers started to poke at her ribs.
“Real nice, sis. Thanks!”
“I am extremely nice,” she deadpanned while she climbed to her feet. “There's a box of cookies in my suite if you want some. I ate like four of them before I came in here, so they should be—“
“Gimme!”
“Just don’t eat all of them,” she scolded, laughing as she walked away.
“I would never!”
Your mock outrage made her laugh harder, and then she was gone. That lie of a smile fell from your lips while you stared at the empty space she had just left.
Kat wasn’t there. She doesn’t know. She can’t.
Slipping away… but it was a different kind of lost. No more limp and useless limbs. No more tears unless you needed them to lie for you. You knew what you had to do.
i can pretend for you, kitty kat.
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!
Author's Note: I've still been disappearing from the world. I've received some very recent help that might make things a bit easier IRL, so I hope I can talk to humans again soon. For now, I'm just so very very grateful for all of you. This story is helping me through some tough shit, and it wouldn't exist without all of the support, encouragement, and inspiration that y'all give me. I know this one was heavy. I hope that if it hit you hard, you know that you are not alone. Sometimes just seeing pain that looks like ours is a relief, a tiny respite from loneliness. I hope that my words can be that for you, and that we can all get through the tough times with just a little less loneliness. 💜
Fic Updates & Extras: I've included a map below with OP Canon and Numbers Game locations in case y'all would like to see where everybody's at and where the reader's memories occurred. I only included relevant locations and this is definitely not to scale. This map began as my need to ensure that the travel time between Karai Bari, Oak Roots Estate, and then Alabasta and the asylum made sense within the One Piece world. (Although that world doesn't make sense, lol. I added up just the travel time of the Straw Hats journey between islands, and with no stops it would take approx. 22.5 days to get from Alabasta to Egghead 😅) I apologize that I don't have the map or the timeline in text format yet. I will be adding that soon since images aren't accessible for everyone. Please let me know if you'd like that so that my adhd brain doesn't forget!!
Sources: The vast majority of the canon details were compiled by the sweet, glorious, super heroes at the One Piece Wiki, and The Library of Ohara. I would be lost without them!!!! 🙌😭🙏🏼 I'm basing the Numbers Game geography mainly off of This Map by xads181 on Reddit. It is so gorgeous and helpful! 😍 I also referenced This Map from the One Piece Wiki, and This Map from ClayStage.com. I made this map using miro.com.
Numbers Game Map ~ Chapter 34
Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak | @djloveyou3000 | @mercymccann | @horse-and-writer97
Part 35
Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
#cross guild smut#mihawk smut#sir crocodile smut#buggy smut#one piece smut#cross guild x reader#mihawk x reader#sir crocodile x reader#buggy x reader#crocodile x reader#cross guild polycule#shuggy smut#shanks smut#shanks x reader#one piece x reader#one piece fanfic#dracule mihawk x reader#crochawk smut#crocodile x mihawk#fem!reader#reader insert#x reader#use of y/n#smut#turtletaub fics#numbers game#cw dark content#cw mental illness#cw childhood trauma#cw mental hospital
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do you have any joel miller fic recs?
so i only just started having time to really read now that my schedule has opened up slightly, i want to make a fic rec list once i get semi caught up but most recent fics that I have read can be found under the tag vee’s recs (they aren’t all just Joel tho) and I also have a few of them on my list which you can find under tbr shelf
but until I can get a proper post going, here are some fics that i have enjoyed in the past and that live rent free in my brain
Soft & Sweet, Neon Moon, and Burlesque by @cavillscurls (all her work is great though so go snoop that masterlist)
Ghost of You by @thetriumphantpanda (also has a ton of great work, once again, go snoop that masterlist)
In My Hometown by @swiftispunk (if i remember correctly a little bird aka han teased on she might be working on something related to this universe so it’s been on my mind)
Honeyed by @softlyspector (I need to catch up on all parts, but the first one had me head over heels)
bloodshed, crimson clover by @morning-star-joy (this was an amazing story, you’ll blow through all 12.1k so fast you’ll be like wait it’s over?!)
one more cup of coffee by @cupofjoel (also a masterlist worth snooping tbh this piece is so beautiful and if your favorite color isn’t brown, it will be after you read this)
Seams by @fuckyeahdindjarin (this series can cheer you up no matter what, i am willing to bet my life on that)
June by @atinylittlepain (i advise that you read this with a box of tissues in hand)
so these are just a few of the fics that i have read before and think about often, again, i want to make an effort into making either a fic rec post or doing some kind of weekly or monthly recap like so many of my mutuals do, so hopefully i can figure that out soon. 🤍
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clandestine ✤ joel miller part i — new horizons
series masterlist & foreword | ao3
moodboard is not an illustration of how reader should look, just for the ~vibes~
fic summary: it’s september 2016, you're in your final year of sixth form college and joel miller joins the teaching staff as your new history teacher. over the course of the academic year, boundaries are blurred, crossed and ruined when joel begins to reciprocate your insatiable crush on him; what should be so wrong just feels so right.
rating: E | pairing/AU: teacher!joel x student!fem!reader
chapter warnings/tags: (6.5k) this is an 18+ fic so mdni! dubcon (due to student/teacher relationship, both parties are consenting otherwise), age gap (reader is 18, Joel is in his early 30s), power imbalance, inappropriate relationships (teacher!Joel is not a good teacher), fetishization of new-adulthood (if you squint), some pervy!Joel, inexperienced!fem!reader is hornee™, pet names (Joel calls reader darlin’, sweetheart etc.), minimal description of fem!reader where possible, reader has hair and is generally able-bodied, otherwise undescribed where possible.
a/n: ahhhh the first chapter of my first fic finally out!! i won't lie i am so nervous to post this but reading other lovely fics from the pedro pascal cinematic universe™ written by some amazing people has inspired me to write and post my own. any feedback is greatly appreciated, especially as a new writer. i hope you all enjoy the teacher!joel brainrot as much as i do.💞
account tags (let me know if you'd like to be added): @sugadolly can't wait for you to read this! hope you enjoy!💓
Tuesday 4th September
8:44am
The calm corridor echoes with the sound of your shoes hitting the ground hard as you run to your registration period before halting suddenly.
“I’m here, Mrs Marvelley,” you holler at your form tutor as you tumble into her classroom in a rush and fluster. “I’m here before quarter to,” you pant, heavy rucksack in tow, having just bolted up two flights. You arrive just as she calls your name on the attendance register, narrowly avoiding a late mark that you were keen to avoid on your last first day of school.
She rolls her eyes, and mumbles something along the lines of “You’re lucky.”
Usually punctual to form registration and lessons, you were delayed countless times this morning by classmates wishing you a belated ‘happy birthday’ for last Sunday, your 18th. Born at the start of September, you're among the oldest in your year, one of the first in your cohort to reach adulthood. Many of these conversations with friends animatedly recapped the events of your party the previous Saturday. The gathering was a typical teenage house party: no parental supervision, loud music, junk food, with a few bottles of booze and packs of cigarettes acquired on the sly through nefarious means, with way more people that you’d initially invited. Luckily, your close friends helped with the cleanup operation the next day, and your parents' trust in you remained intact and you stayed in their good books for the time being.
Realising the time, you part ways with your friends, each heading to your respective form classes, a wave of contentment washing over you. Unfortunately, someone had to go and ruin it.
Taunts of ‘look at her, MILF in the making’ , and ‘best time to start an OnlyFans is now, babe’ from a crew of boys you’ve never liked echo down the corridor. Their cruel laughter at their own remarks colour your anger a violent crimson.
“Oh, get fucked ,” you seethe through clenched teeth, flipping a middle finger in their direction, all the while praying you won’t get caught for the foul language. Turning on your heel you swiftly retreat, eager to escape the confrontation.
A few metres down the corridor, you overhear the boys’ guffaws being cut off by a chastation from a voice that’s foreign to you. Rounding the corridors’ corner, you decide to hang about and eavesdrop on the hecklers’ punishment.
“Now boys, I know y’all don’t know me yet but I don’t think this is a great introduction for my first day here.” The voice is deep, gravelly, laced with an American accent that you guess as Southern—maybe Texan if you had to be precise. Must be someone new, maybe a teacher? A member of Senior Leadership? You’re sure you’ll find out during registration if you were to ask around.
“I-I-It was only a joke, sir,” one of the crew pleaded to him. Not so big and bad now, eh?
“Oh sure , sure.” The voice drawls, laced in sarcasm. “Funny ‘cause it was lookin’ like you were botherin’ a young lady.”
“Oh sir, don’t be like that, it was just banter,” another boy pipes up.
The unknown voice lets out a deep huff. “Do you need your heads checked? Y’all were spoutin’ some real sexist things, and that ain’t a joke, boys — it’s not ‘banter’ ,” the gruff voice now raised, seething. “Seein’ as your ‘jokes’ have now landed yourselves in after school detention tonight, I think ya’ll need to come with me to get your detention slips signed.”
The group of boys groan in unison and you hear one swear under their breath. Oh shit, they’re in for it, now.
“Hey!” The pitch of his speech deepens, harsh and guttural, a threatening aura now looming in the air. “Let’s not make it two after school detentions in a row for insubordination.” The boys are now deathly silent. “I recommend y’all shut your traps and follow me. I’ll email your tutors and let them know why you’ll be late for registration. What a disappointin’ start to the year, boys…” The husky voice trails in the opposite direction, still berating and scolding the group.
You’re itching to text your friends about the clash that just went down, but just as you’re about to hit send, the bell rings for morning registration. Shit. You tuck your phone away and hustle towards your form classroom, hoping to avoid a late mark.
9:03am
Your form group was small, fewer than 15. A few of them were familiar faces from your early years in primary school, while most were friends you had made during your time at the local high school. There were also a few new acquaintances from other schools in the area, including Chelsea, notably absent from your registration period this morning.
Despite only meeting her last year when you joined the college, she’d quickly become one of your closest friends. She was in your History and English Lit/Lang classes so you often spent time together, as well as studying and revising at each others’ houses, and over time your friendship blossomed. The first year of your A-Level courses were a journey for you both: you laughed together, cried together, comforted each other through the meltdowns triggered by the towering workload and disheartening feedback on essays you’d slaved over.
This morning’s registration period is extended by 20 minutes, seeing as it’s the first day back and there’s a lot to catch up on; new schedules to coordinate and potentially revise in the case of any timetable clashes. This was to be followed by a ‘Welcome Back’ assembly held in the main hall of the sixth form college, that you don’t doubt will be boring as hell.
Your head is buried in your new school planner, setting it up for the upcoming year, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you are greeted by the beaming face of Chelsea.
“Chelsea! Hey!” you say, surprised but happy to see her. “Dude, you are so late.” You stand to pull her into a tight squeeze of a hug.
“Babe, I know —my car was being a bitch this morning, took forever to start,” she exhales, exasperated. She breaks the embrace, drops her backpack on the floor and sits at the desk next to you.
“Shows you for driving an absolute shitbox,” you tease, attempting to lean back into the rigid plastic seat.
“Hey, don’t talk about Gizmo like that, it’ll hurt his feelings.” Chelsea throws a mock frown at you. “Not like your hunk o’ junk is much better.”
“Guilty as charged,” you banter, arms up in mock surrender.
“ Anyway …Happy belated birthday!” she exclaims, pulling out a small, colourful badge from her bag. “I know I couldn't make it on Saturday, so I wanted to give you this now. You gotta wear it all day.”
You look at the badge; it is vibrant and cheerful decorated with hearts and stars, with a playful ‘Birthday Girl!’ written in glittery bubble letters. A mix of emotions washes over you. You are so pleased by the thoughtfulness of her gesture—Chelsea was always a giver—but a little embarrassed by the idea of wearing a badge in front of everyone on the first day back.
“Awh, Chelsea, you didn't have to…” you start, but she cuts you off.
“I know, I know, but I wanted to. You deserve a little extra celebration!” she grins, pinning the badge to your blazer proudly.
You feel a warmth spread through you. It is touching to know she had thought of you and made the effort despite missing the actual day. You glance around, noticing a few curious glances from your classmates. Embarrassment mingles with gratitude, and you smile at her warmly.
“Thanks, Chels," you say sincerely. “This means a lot.”
Chelsea flashes a wink. “That’s what friends are for, right?”
With that, you begin recalling the details of the altercation you overheard between the boys and the new staff member. You provide a concise rundown, explaining how the boys suddenly started harassing you, describing how this new, mysterious person defended you after you had presumably left. Chelsea is as astonished as you are to hear the entire story.
“Wait, you have no idea who it was? And he was American ?” Chelsea raises an eyebrow, then narrows her eyes, probing you further for details.
“Southern? I dunno. And, nope, sorry, no idea, hon,” you shrug, “I didn’t think to get a look at him. Didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping, y’know.”
Chelsea ponders, drawing out her words. “Hmm, interesting...”
“Do you know of any new teachers taking over this year?”
“Not a Scooby-Doo clue, mate,” her shoulders rising and falling in a shrug. She pauses a moment, lightly tapping the desk with her fingertips and pursing her lips. “ So … Did he sound hot?”
“Chels! You can’t say that!” You gasp, shocked at her question, hitting her arm playfully.
“Oh come on, I just wanna know the deets!”, she defends whilst punching you back in jest. “Did he sound old, young—you gotta give me something to work with?!”
“I dunno how to describe it, umm… he was…” you trail off, replaying the snippets of what you overheard like a movie.
The voice was a rich, gravelly drawl that sent shivers down your spine. His tone had a weathered maturity, a deep, husky resonance that carried the weight of experience. There was a touch of warmth, even when he was angry, like a low rumble of thunder on a hot summer night, both comforting and electrifying. It was the kind of voice that could soothe a troubled mind or set hearts racing with a whisper. The kind of voice that you were desperate to hear again, that sparked your curiosity.
“It was, like, deeper, husky— I don’t fucking know , Chels!”, you attempt to surmise before breaking out into a giggle and your cheeks warming into a blush.
“A-ha! So, he was hot! You jammy bitch.”
“We don’t even know what he looks like, so we can’t say for definite if he is or isn’t hot yet.”
“Well if he sounds fit, he probably will be.” There’s a proverb in there, somewhere, if you look hard enough.
“You’re an idiot, you know that?”, you jest. Chelsea laughs and it’s infectious, both of you giggling at your wild hypotheses.
Your conversation is cut short when Mrs Marvelley calls for the class’ attention. She begins handing out your new timetables for the year, and you grab yours from her eagerly, hoping that it’s not terrible.
“These are your timetables for this year. I’ll give you a few minutes to check them over. If there’s no issues, head up to the main hall for assembly. If there are issues, you need to go down to the admin office and speak to Mr Jones. I repeat, you need to see Mr Jones.” She spots a hand raised amongst the group. “And, no , Dan, he won’t change it so you get Fridays off, no matter how much you beg and bribe him.” A few quiet snickers ripple across the class.
Looking at the timetable, your eyes are drawn to a different set of initials where you expect to find AW, for Mr Walker, one of your lecturers who seemed as ancient as history itself.
HIST/A2
JM
Rm. 93
A few of your other peers also spot the change too and break out into a slew of overlapping speculative discussions.
Is he dead? Wouldn’t surprise me—My sister heard he had to get a hip replacement, second one musta gave out finally—I guess Mr Walker ain’t walking anymore, hahaha, what? C’mon, it’s just a joke, Miss, be chill—Who’s JM? You reckon it’s a guy or a girl? I hope they’re nice, not like Mr Hall. He’s a dick—Can’t believe they haven’t sacked him yet.
“You good? Everything okay?” Chelsea asks, standing to collect her belongings.
“Yeah, no issues here.” You follow suit, packing your bag to leave. “‘Cept Mr Hall is still teaching History.”
“ Ugh , tell me about it. Let’s hope this fresh meat isn’t as much of a twat as he is.”
“That’s wishful thinking, Chels, but I got my fingers crossed. Anyway, time for us to be bored out of our minds for an hour. Let’s go.”
10:28am
As you’d predicted, the Welcome Back assembly dragged on for what seemed like millennia. You’d been sitting there that long that your ass had gone numb. Led by the assistant headteacher Mr Faulkner, it was the usual presentation, welcoming everyone back after the summer, a few announcement of extra-curricular activities commencing this week, with some interesting musical performances from the Music students and a refresh of the colleges’ rules, expectations and consequences:
Try your best.
You are a representative of the College, in and out. Conduct yourselves in a manner that does not put the institution into disrepute.
You are in your last year now, make it count.
Surely, this all could have been in an email . It was basically the same trifle they spouted last year.
Before you feel yourself fall asleep out of boredom, the last announcement catches your attention, and urges you and Chelsea to sit up in your seats.
“Before we end our assembly today and let you go to break, I have one last announcement—an introduction, actually,” Mr Faulkner announces, wrinkled hands clasped tightly together. Microphone feedback echoes awkwardly through the speakers.
Shallow murmurs ripple across the hall. In sync, you and Chelsea flash each other a knowing look. This could be the end to the mystery that plagued you both all morning.
“As you may be aware, we had to bid farewell to our longest serving member of teaching staff, Mr Walker. Over summer, he underwent some surgery and he felt that it was in his best interest to retire after an illustrious 45 year career in teaching. He sends his best wishes for your year ahead and apologises for not being able to do so in person. We thank him for his many years at this College and wish him a speedy recovery.”
Chelsea leans to you. “ Jesus Christ, he doesn’t half go on, does he? Just get to the fucking point, man, ” she whispers before Mrs Marvelley quietly shushes her and raises a hand in a silent apology. You chuckle under your breath, silently agreeing with your friend. A shiver of excitement races down your spine, making your fingers tingle, a slow and steady anticipation building within you.
“I’d like to formally introduce you all to our newest member of staff to join our College. He is a former lecturer from across the pond and we are so grateful to have him join our department of Humanities and Social Studies. So please give a warm welcome to the stage, Mr Joel Miller.” A lulled applause breaks out across the hall. Mr Faulkner takes a step back from the mic and your eyes scan towards the front, looking for this ambiguous Mr Miller to join the stage.
And that’s when you spot him. Probably one of the most attractive people you’ve ever laid eyes on. The kind of person that makes your breath hitch, cheeks hot and heart skip a beat. You’re silently praying to a higher power he has an American accent as he climbs the few steps up to the stage.
Time feels like molasses as your eyes drink him in. His hair is a rich brown and pairs deliciously with his eyes, falling across his head in tousled waves. The boyish curls, a little dishevelled, frame his face perfectly and suggest a softness that beckons you to touch them. Though sparse in places along his strong jawline, the uneven growth of his facial hair adds an irresistibly raw, untamed allure, hinting at a blend of tenderness and roughness that you find insatiable. A textured beige blazer drapes over his broad shoulders, accentuating and hugging his physique with each movement. Underneath, you could see a burnt orange button-up shirt, which complements the warmth of his skin. An undone top button reveals a slight glimpse of his chest, firing your desire to see more .
Lost in him, your mind wanders as you envisage how his salt-and-pepper scruff would feel against the soft skin of your cheeks, peppering wet, sweet kisses trailing down your neck and body, and before arriving at the delicate creases of your thighs. Sweat drips down your back as your tummy flutters and tightens, and you cross your legs to seek any sort of purchase to relieve the building pressure in your core, a wetness beginning to pool in your underwear, cheeks blushing at the sight of him. Almost immediately you decide that you want him to absolutely ruin you.
A familiar voice drawls across the hall’s speakers, snapping you back to reality. You glance around to see if anyone noticed your reaction. Thankfully everyone is facing the front, focusing on the assembly.
“Uh, hi folks, thanks for having me,” Mr Miller utters into the microphone, a soft nervous smile blooming across his face. Bingo. Mystery solved at last.
You whack Chelsea in the side in an effort to get her attention and she whips her head round. It's him, you mouth silently, that’s the guy.
“No, shit. I told you he was gonna be fit.”
Saying he was fit felt like an understatement. He was immaculate, a commanding masculine energy radiating from him. To you, he's a masterpiece that's rough around the edges, sultry perfection with a touch of brooding reality.
“I ain’t one for public speaking so I appreciate y’all being so kind in welcoming me here today. And thank you to Mr Faulkner for that, uh, introduction,” he says, a soft chortle escaping his mouth. “I’m honoured to be joining such a prestigious department and hopefully live up to Mr Walker’s legacy. No pressure, amirite?”
He chuckles again, joined by a comforting wave of murmured chuckles from students around you. You’re transfixed, hanging onto every word he says.
“In all seriousness, ‘m looking forward to settling in, getting to teach history, doing what I love — thank you,” he finishes, punctuating the sentence with a slight nod. Taking a step back from the mic to allow Mr Faulkner to finally wrap up the assembly, you choose to ignore the assistant head and pour your focus entirely into Mr Miller.
Head tilting like a curious puppy, you pay close attention as he slides his glasses up his aquiline nose with his middle finger and runs his large hand through his hair, touseling his curls. You begin to fiddle with your delicate chain necklace, fingertips barely grazing the sensitive skin of your neck as a warm giddiness prevails over you causing your cheeks to burn harder. Jesus fucking Christ, he’s perfect.
“What? ” Chelsea whispers, poking her finger into your side. “ What did you say? ”
“Huh?” you murmur. Confused at first before awareness sets in, your eyes widen like a deer in headlights, realising what you’d whispered aloud. You’re about to respond and promise to tell her at break, when Mrs Marvelley's sharp whisper cuts through the air, causing you and Chelsea to freeze in your seats like statues.
“Girls ! That’s enough.” Arms crossed tightly across her body, she leans in to avoid drawing attention to herself as she delivers a quiet but harsh scolding. “Stay here at the end of assembly. You have detention for constant whispering. Now, be quiet . So incredibly rude,” she hisses.
Avoiding Mrs Marvelley’s scathing eye contact, both you and Chelsea offer mumbled apologies, a mix of sorry Miss and won’t do it again . For fuck’s sake. Detention was the last thing you needed on your first day back.You’re kicking yourself for sitting at the end of the row instead of the middle, where you would have quietly gossiped without getting caught usually. At least it was only technically 50% your fault with Chelsea involved, when you thought about it. You pray she didn’t overhear you gushing over the new teacher—the thought itself makes you feel nauseous.
The assembly rolls to a close at long last, and students and staff begin to file out of the main hall. In the hustle and bustle, you lose sight of Mr Miller and a feeling of longing waves over you as if you miss him already like a pathetic puppy. Meanwhile, you and Chelsea remain seated, bracing yourselves a stern lecture from your form tutor. You exchange glances every now and again, struggling to stifle your laughter despite your present situation. It’s always funny how being forbidden to speak makes everything seem so much more amusing.
11:07am
Mrs Marvelley escorts you back to her classroom at breaktime and delivers a scorned lecture as she logs the detention on her prehistoric computer, almost punching the keys of the keyboard. The computer was probably as old as you, if not older.
“Girls, I cannot believe that you were being so rude, whispering constantly like that. Every single time I looked over, you were just talking . You’re meant to be the good girls in my form class — really let me down today. Imagine what impression that makes on Mr Faulkner or even Mr Miller who’s new to this college, the pair of you gossiping like that.”
Neither you or Chelsea interrupt her, knowing better to just accept the scolding than to argue back. Admittedly, she’s laying it on a bit thick, it wasn’t like you’d committed any serious infractions or catcalled and harrassed another pupil like some people you know. It was just gossiping. All the same, you feel a pang of embarrassment in the pit of your stomach.
Mrs Marvelley twists her thin wrist to check the time on her watch.
“Alright ladies, you’ve got 10 minutes left of your detention but I need to pop out to speak to someone next door. It'll be a few minutes. Can I trust you both to stay here until I get back?”
You and Chelsea nod without saying anything. Mrs Marvelley leaves without a word and you’re both left to your own devices.
You fidget with a loose piece of thread on the hem of your skirt, running it through and round your fingers before pulling at it to snap it off. Readjusting in your seat, you let out a lengthy sigh. The previous arousal in your underwear feels a little uncomfortable now, both literally and figuratively. It’s not even lesson 3 yet and it’s been a helluva day , you muse.
“Mr Miller got you all worked up, eh?” Chelsea teases, nudging her leg into yours. It was like she read you like an open book.
“Don’t you start,” you warn, rolling your eyes, your slight irritation palpable in the sideways look. But she was right. You’d barely laid eyes on him all of 5 minutes and he was already driving you crazy. “Was it obvious?”, you ask quietly, bracing yourself for the worst possible answer that your new crush on Mr Miller was clear as day.
Chelsea’s familiar hearty laugh echoes through the room. “Only because I know you so well by now. Oh, and the fact you admitted that he was, what was it? ‘So fucking perfect’ ?” She teases, her fingers waggle in the air, forming imaginary quotation marks as she quotes you.
You groan with embarrassment. “I can’t believe I said that, I’m such a dick .” You groan again, louder this time, flopping into a pathetic lump on the desk, head buried into your arms. If the ground beneath you could split open and swallow you whole, you’d welcome it with open arms. You would prefer it actually than being stuck in college for the rest of the day.
Chelsea rubs your back, her hands radiating a warm heat as she circles your upper back, maintaining a consistent pressure. Usually when she rubs your back like this, you’re throwing up into a toilet the morning after a heavy night of binge drinking in a random field somewhere—the session hidden from your parents obviously—but it’s still comforting all the same.
“You’re alright, mate, honestly.” She insists, hands moving down to give attention to your lower back. “Nobody heard ‘cept for me. Hell, I barely heard you, but I got the message.”
Peeking out of the lump, revealing your flushed face, your eyes meet Chelsea’s. You pout at your pitiful demeanour.
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
There is one last thing you need to do to feel fully assured of yourself. You offer Chelsea your little finger. “Pinky swear?”
She locks her petite finger with yours and offers a tender smile, gently nodding. “Pinky swear.”
2:04pm
The rest of the day passed without any further mishaps. You had double Spanish followed by independent study and lunch before your last period - History with the enigmatic Mr Miller. Lining up in the corridor, it feels stuffy even when you remove your thick blazer and loosen your tie. The rhythmic tapping of your fingers against your thigh does little to settle the butterflies in your tummy. You’d made a tactical judgement by standing towards the end of the line; you were waiting for Chelsea and you didn’t want to seem too keen. The shrill ring of the bell pierced through the rustle and bustle of the corridor, both clouding your mind so much you barely take notice when the rest of the line heads into the class. Mr Miller is standing at the door welcoming your class in.
His eyes lock with yours and your heart does a flip. As you make your way into class his lips curve into a soft smile, inviting and warm, and you feel like the air’s been punched out of your gut. Shit. You return with a weak smile and enter the room before you pass out.
Usually decorated with replicas of historical artefacts, boxes of old dusty textbooks and old wall displays of work from students who’d long left the college, the classroom was bare, empty like a blank canvas. The desks had been rearranged from rows of tables into groups, allowing for four people to sit. You decide to take a seat towards the front, near to where you sat last year with Chelsea. She trails in not long after you and smiles with a ‘hiya’ under her breath.
“Well, this is different.” She says scanning the classroom, unpacking her bag before sitting in the seat adjacent to you. “Least it’s not as dusty with Walker’s junk everywhere.”
“His stuff wasn’t that bad. It was just too much of it.” You follow Chelsea’s lead and get your equipment out for the lesson. As you’re getting your notebook out, your elbow nudges your pencil case and its contents spill on the floor.
“Fuck’s sake ,” you whisper under breath. Flustered, you’re about to get out of your chair when you feel a shadow over you.
“S’alright, I got it.”
Mr Miller looms over you before getting down to grab the contents of your pencil case from the floor in one swift motion. Since this morning he’s removed his blazer and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. The sight of his forearms, tanned, strong and just so masculine , makes your heart flutter, a quiet thrill running through you at the thought of those arms wrapped around you, entangled together.
“There you go, darlin’.” He says, holding them out to you, a soft laugh reveals his smile lines. “Saved you gettin’ up.” Taking the handful of pens out of his hand, you swear you feel electricity in the split second his hand gazes against yours.
“Thanks, sir,” you manage to say without squeaking too much.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” His velvety words dance across his tongue and you almost want to believe that he’s being this hot on purpose to torture you personally.
Returning to his teacher desk he settles in the leather office chair and begins logging in and setting up his teaching resources. He completes the attendance register with no hitches; apart from the way he says your name has your head spinning. Satisfied that he can start the lesson, he rises from the table and stands near the board, ready to present, clicker in hand.
“Alrigh’ folks, welcome to final year History, you’ve made it this far.” He leans casually against the wall in the space between his desk and the board before continuing.
“I’ll be level with you. It's period five on your first day back. It’s my first day. Your lil’ brains are probably information overloaded right now bouncing ‘round your heads.” He pauses and run his hand through his curly hair which is a lot more dishevelled compared to this morning. “I’ve had to meet almost too many people to meet within a day.”
He sounds gruff, like he’s worn his voice out from lecturing all day.
“Bet some of y’all are wondering how you’re still upright after the day you’ve had. Hell, I'm wondering how I’m still standing.” He chuckles, a rich, deep sound that seems to vibrate through you. A few from your class join in with a soft laugh. His irreverent humour puts your mind at ease and you appreciate his honesty.
“‘Won’t overload you with too many of the scary details of what’s going to happen this year but we’ll do an overview. That sounds good to y’all?” The class and you let out a mumble of agreement. “Let’s jump in then; this is your intro’ to The American Dream: reality and illusion, from 1945 to 2003.”
For the next half an hour, he shares an outline of what this year’s course will entail in terms of assessment: formative essays every few weeks to check your progress with course content, a historical enquiry assignment due in April, followed by your final exams in June. He goes on to describe some of the key events you'll study this year with confidence: the Cold War, the Civil Rights movement, the rise of popular culture and media, Watergate, the war on drugs, 9/11, and the U.S. invasion of Iraq. It’s quietly ironic that the college has asked him to teach on this module, and you wonder what Mr Miller’s perspective could offer when teaching some of the topics that he’s probably lived through himself.
The broad scope of subjects felt overwhelming looking at them in one go, yet it was the challenge you craved. History as a subject was one of your passions, even when it pushed your limits. A poor grade on a painstakingly crafted essay would upset you, but it didn't dissuade you either; it ignited a fierce resolve to prove yourself. Your old teacher Mr Walker was always so supportive of your interest in his subject, keen to hear your opinions and debate with you. His feedback on your essays was always fair, highlighting both the strengths and drawbacks in your analyses and opinions:
I like the way you’ve considered this, it enriches your main, overall argument. However, in paragraph 7, it feels a little weak and undersupported. Next time, you should consider looking at these sources I’ve suggested and how they may alter your argument. Good work on the whole — Grade: 20/25.
It was a shame that your work wasn’t appreciated by your other History teacher. Mr Hall's biassed grading, favouring certain students with A’s while giving you C’s and D’s, felt unjust. And it wasn’t because you thought your work was better; you’d heard through the grapevine that this particular group would pay seedy websites to produce their essays in all their subjects, slap their own names on the work and submit them. Others complained to Mr Walker about it but it fell on deaf ears, and lacked concrete evidence to prove the plagiarism so the issue never went further, despite it appearing to be an open secret. However on results day, your quiet determination paid off. You revelled in the sweet victory of an A, while the boys, once so favoured, faced the sting of D’s, E’s and U’s. You wondered if you’d be believed now if you brought the issue up again.
Throughout the lesson you earnestly take notes whilst you listen to his lecture, to jot down the important information and to show him that you’re listening intently, aching for a crumb of approval from the new teacher. The way he speaks commands the room, drawing the attention of the whole class, oozing a confidence that only comes with experience. Each word rolled out with a noticeable Texan accent, dripping with a natural, unforced charm.
The introductory lecture draws to a close, to your disappointment. You could listen to him talk for hours.
“I hope I ain’t completely frazzled your heads, anyone got any questions?” Mr Miller offers a slight smile as he scans the room, his brown eyes meeting yours. For a second you feel his gaze on you, praying he doesn’t see your cheeks starting to warm for what feels like the hundredth time, your uniform feeling unbearable against your skin. As luck would have it, the bell rings, saving you and the class begins to pack up their belongings.
“Oh—before you go, I have this handout you need.” He turns to collect the stack of papers from his desk. In the meanwhile, you put your blazer on and start to clear away your things at an unhurried pace, waiting for everyone else to clear the room before you ask Mr Miller about what happened this morning with the boys. Chelsea’s ready to go, looking at you expectantly.
“Chels, I’ll meet you outside. I wanna ask him something.” She nods in understanding and offers a knowing wink as she leaves.
The almost vacant classroom suddenly feels stuffy as if it will swallow you whole. Mr Miller has his back to you, shuffling and organising his already messy desk as you approach him.
“Umm, hi, Mr Miller…” you start, nibbling on your lip so hard you almost draw blood. You hear your blood pumping in your ears, heart pounding like a relentless drum.
“Oh, sorry darlin’ I didn’t realise you had a question,” he turns and sits, leaning back in his office chair, relaxed. “How can I help?” A dangerous question for your little wound up mind. I don’t know, maybe bend me over on that desk right there and fuck me so hard I forget my name?
“Uh, no, actually. It’s about something that happened this morning.” You say instead, taking a seat on the edge of the desk closest to his. Mr Miller’s expression changes, a mixture of concern and confusion, unsure of what you’re referring to. Thumbing the sleeve of your blazer, you begin to explain. “I think it was you I overheard dealing with a group of lads being a bit gross this morning…” you trail awkwardly, dropping his eye contact, hoping he catches on.
“Oh yeah, I remember now. What about it?”
“I just wanted to say thank you for sticking up for me, I—err—appreciate it.”
“ Oh… ” Realisation washes over him and he sits up in his chair. “Those boys were bothering you , huh? I’m sorry they were being like that. Ain’t right to talk to a lady like that,” he murmurs, his finger grazing against his bottom lip. The way he says it, dripping with charm, makes your heart swoon.
“You don’t need to apologise for them, they’re dickheads, anyway.” You offer a soft chuckle, feeling a little awkward about the situation.
“Dickheads they might be darlin’, but they needed to learn a lesson on how t’be respectful. Guess they don’t teach that over here.” He shrugs nonchalantly and a slim smile appears briefly on his lips.
Leaning forward in his chair he perches elbows on his knees, his large hands interlaced, he catches your eye and looks at you intently. “They bother you again, you tell me, alrigh’? I will deal with them.” He murmurs, voice deepening, eye contact unwavering. “I’m serious. Any word or comment, you come to me .”
Shit. I’ll come for you if you want. You swallow hard and you feel slick arousal begin to dampen your underwear again in response to his command.
“Yeah, ‘course. I’ll let you know,” you try your best to sound unaffected by his commanding allure.
“Not a problem, darlin’. Now, get outta here and enjoy the rest of the day.” His smile is like a gentle caress, as warm as his gaze. He rises from his chair to see you out. You hop off the desk, bag slung over your shoulder and walk over to the door.
“One last thing,” he stops just short of the door, his tall frame towering over you. You look up to him; you guess he’s shy of 6 foot. He holds the pink, sparkly ‘Birthday Girl’ badge from Chelsea, still attached to your blazer, like he was inspecting it.
Your mouth forms a small ‘o’ shape in realisation and you sigh softly, attempting to hide your embarrassed face before meeting his gaze. “It was my 18th on Sunday and my friend got me this because she missed it, and made me wear it all-day.” You let out a nervous laugh, realising how silly the situation was to explain aloud to your teacher.
A lingering smile tugs at his lips, his eyes flitting down and up your body. “Well,” he pauses, his voice dropping to a low murmur, his thumb brushing against the colourful badge before his hand grazes down your arm, sending a jolt through your body. “Happy birthday for Sunday, darlin’, I hope you got everything you wanted,” he coos.
You have to swallow hard to stop yourself from letting out a whimper in response, aching for him to touch elsewhere instead.
Your thoughts are spinning like a record of the things you can’t say right now; I want you for my birthday, that would be the best present. I want you to touch me, suck my tits, fuck me, make me cum before you ruin me. Make me feel like no one else has. I wanna make you feel so good, I wanna be good for you. I’ll be so good, I promise.
“T-Thanks,” you stutter, breath hitching. You excuse yourself before you let illicit thoughts pour out of you and make your way to the car park to meet Chelsea. Your head is spinning, replaying the interaction over and over; the sound of his gruff voice, the way he looked at you, his light touch over your blazer, the way he had you like putty in his hands. It drowns yet excites you, teetering on edge between being turned on and utterly overwhelmed, the cruel truth dawning on you.
You have a crush on your teacher and you’re probably—definitely—absolutely fucked.
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