#so now my problem is. how do i make that clear in the fic from falin's POV without getting too heavy handed about it

[fandomofhappiness]

Aizawa Shouta & Shinsou Hitoshi Father-Son Dynamic Big Recomendation Fic List for starters and not

Hi everyone! After quite a long time, I finally post my Recommendation Fic List (the crowning glory of my stay in the MHA fandom) of Aizawa and Shinsou Father-Son Dynamic.

I always start reading fanfiction before I even finished read the original, what does that says about me?

I became familiar with a fairly common theory that Shinsou Hitoshi is an orphan with a rather dread past, which, of course, activated a huge curiosity in me. I tried to analyze the trend, and I will say that it's quite clear: People were infected with the idea, where abused Hitoshi was somehow saved by Aizawa. And so was I. I've read for almost hundread of any combinations of this trend and NOW I finally ready to present my Fic List.

Attention. I will attach UNFINISHED fanfics, but which actively (or not so) updated, because they are masterpieces.

WARNING! I do not attach stories which contain:

ships (except Erasermic and 2-3 ShinKami but they are not MAIN)

alpha/beta/omega thing

too fluffy and too family-oriented fics (there will be ones, but I don't want to make them a centre of my list

I cut Rec List on different genre sections (read: dynamics) and add fanfics from the most angst ones to fluffy ones so you can easily pick what you like most ;)

So, let's start!

fandomofhappiness's personal top

You Want It Darker by Ms_Chunks Genres: Shinsou Has Family, Gore and Murder, Detective, Mentor and Parental Aizawa Status: FINISHED (533,808 words) foh's comment: Highly interesting! Shinsou here is not represented as perfect kid or downtrodden teenager, he is the way I liked him in anime and manga: he bites, hisses, snaps, makes sarcastic jokes and does not allow anyone hurt him. Aizawa and Shinsou very slowly gain trust from each other, but that makes their relationship seem sincere, and not caricatured. Read for the detective, the non-orthodox view of the Hitoshi family and Erasermic. READ THE TAGS and be aware!

Fundamental Theorem of Heroics by NightowlRobin Genres: Foster Kid Shinsou, Vigilante Shinsou, Heavy Angst, Parental Aizawa Status: UNFINISHED but updates weekly (more 700k words) foh's comment: Truly FUNDAMENTAL work of all Shinsou Hitoshi stories on ao3. I'd so like to confess my true respect and love to the NightowlRobin for their most mind-blowing plot and detailising. (You will probably meet Aizawa only after 10 chapters. And it will take even longer until Hitoshi and him properly meet.) This is an epochal work that will make you believe in Hitoshi's true character and make you cry of his story because it's really brutal. I think this is the favourite work of everyone who liked Shinsou with all their hearts.

To Turn A Man Into A Stone by tanli Genres: Foster Kid Shinsou, Angst, Mentor Aizawa Status: FINISHED (15,128 words) foh's: comment: Even months after I read this work, I look back on it and think: the author did an 11/10 job. Just so you understand: this is the best example of how I see the relationship between Aizawa and Shinsou. It is the apotheosis of sincerity and affection. It is a test of will, deep introspection and acceptance. It performed so well that it seemed to me that the author wrote a chapter for the manga. Damn, the author did a lot better than the mangaka. If the previous two works were not so high-quality and grandiose, I would've put this one at the very top of my list.

If Lies Had A Flavor by scooter3scooter Genres: Foster Kid Shinsou, Erasermic Adopt Shinsou, Heavy Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eating Disorders Status: FINISHED (10,003 words) foh's comment: Perhaps one of the many angst works written by scooter3scooter, which I have reread more than once or even twice. This work is special to me, because I have never seen such an interesting look at the consequences of Shinsou's stay in an orphanage. Complex and emotional work. It is truly an honour to get acquainted with such a vast problem of humanity as eating disorder through this fanfic.

crybaby by Brachydios Genres: Foster Kid Shinsou, Erasermic Help Shinsou, Heavy Angst & Eventual Comfort, Canon Divergence Status: FINISHED (51,219 words) foh's comment: I've read this work more times than I can remember. Brachydios came into my life with this incredible work and tore me apart from the inside. I believe in every detail they describe, every character move is justified. I want to sympathize with Shinsou over and over again. One of the best Quirk-Shenanigans trope that has brought 1017 people to tears - be the next one. The performance is 100 of 10.

How It Goes by Ibelieveinahappilyeverafter Genres: Foster Kid Shinsou, Erasermic Adopt Shinsou, Heavy Angst & Eventual Comfort Status: FINISHED (20,021 words) foh's comment: This is one of the best written Foster Kid Shinsou stories ever. Hitoshi's adaptation, his thoughts and feelings, his panic, his fear of going back to the orphanage are described in a deep sincere way here. It's a heartbreaking story about the fear of punishment, taking consenquences and family. It was very personal for me and I hope you get a lot emotions after reading it.

Faith by slightlycrunchy Genres: Mentor and Parental Aizawa, Anxious Shinsou, Hurt/Comfort, School Situation Status: FINISHED (2,651 words) foh's comment: This work is also quite personal choice of mine. I wouldn't say it's grandiose, but it's very emotional for me. For the kid who worries about grades all their life, who is afraid to make a mistake, who is afraid to lose everything because of one mistake and who doesn't know how to accept their failures. I ask you to read this if my words resonate in your soul. This is the truth that we all need to hear.

Absolute Tops

Point Blank by Cobbiest foh's rec: an interesting, intriguing and beautifully written Shinsou's journey to become a part of Erasermic Family (and hero)

Deathworlders to the extreme! by AquaStarDark foh's rec: that's the funniest, most captivating and rocking people-are-space-orcs thing that I've read, really worths reading

I Would Understand by deafmic foh's rec: that is the first things first to read if you're new here, but tnh I wasn't ready for this work and dropped it once or twice before I finally made it and read it, it's really really good, but I wouldn't recommended as first-to-read.

Back to the Nest by Mags_Pie foh's rec: such a sweet thing about children and their parents. I was smiling so much.

Everything is different (since you've been around) by Plasmapause foh's rec: and THIS is how I see the best written relationship between Shinsou & Aizawa AND Shinsou & Yamada, they're building trust and becoming family very slowly BUT you really believe in these life situations that happen to Hitoshi, it is very sincere and touchy work.

It's not always easy. by ethgri foh's rec: and THIS is the HEAVIEST work I've read and really recommend it. The emotions are real and naked, I practically felt the same pain. Please be ready for heart journey, this is a brutal masterpiece.

Herding Cats by Robbirdthe8th (FictionalFeather) foh's rec: the COOLEST detective wotk, have nothing to say - just read it.

Margay by Oceanbreeze7 foh's rec: one of best ever written Shinsou.

QueNouilleCroustillante (the author of AUs that you won't forget: you may know theirs Bright Stars, but I beg you to read all of their works)

deafmic (you guys do know deafmic, that's deafmic's section for Aizawa and Shinsou, it's all too fucking good)

Mentorship Dynamics

More than a cry by Assassin Bug

Stubborn choices by Madaver

Not In The Job Description by ididntneedanewfandom (prettyvk)

Voices by SquirrelWriter

mind break by baggytshirtsandtiredeyes

The Lilac Garden by Mars_is_Gone

the night was a gelid, bitter, and biting thing by sonrissa

Countdown by Mags_Pie

polished doubt, fake sentiment by s_beth

Consequences by 22FluffyTheSpider123

Legacy by the_crownless_queen

Aizawa's Warmth by LoveableMink

Hitoshi Shinsou's Not-So-Smart Training Method by maarvehl

Keep Him Safe by Mags_Pie

stealing is bad? by borlios

Learning Curve by Cyborg_Franky

Play Along by eillo

from one foot to the other by ohwickedsoul

Family Dynamics

So this section I prefer to divide in two subsections:

fanfics where Shinsou is heavely traumatised and learns how to handle it with Eraser(-mic) help (Section A)

fanfics where Shinsou traumatises world around him and still learns how to handle it (Section B)

P.S.: section B comes first, because I love how authors perform Shinsou. They captured his audacity, intelligence and rebelliousness, he's learning from his traumas but does it shitty, and that is really interesting.

Family Dynamics Section B:

When the Darkness Fades by BlueCats

Growing Up (is harder than it looks) by BlueCats

Concerning (Some-)Things by Tododorkey (ApolloBlackwood)

The Beginning of Always by meow_z_z_z

First Day of School by Jyxnie

Split Lip; Silver Tongue by CreamcheeseBagel

Unforgettable by deafmic

A Lesson in Vengeance by Smurfee

somewhere in my heart of hearts (i knew it all along) by bototyelenol

Call to Eraserhead by sukeruton

surviving on elevated cortisol and spilt coffee by Crykea

How to Win the Sports Festival: A Step by Step Guide by mhwright

Hitoshi Shinsou's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Days by Princeliest

Tight-Lipped Belief by Robbirdthe8th (FictionalFeather)

House of the Rising Sun by caprisunontherocks

Family Dynamics Section A:

Just A Phone Call Away by odymcbea

Twist My Words by CreamcheeseBagel

Take Care (of me) by scooter3scooter

it’s in the way he- by scooter3scooter

masterpiece of nature by Brachydios

spare the rod by Brachydios

Not Today (Tomorrow it May Change) by deafmic

You're an Alien? by Badum_tsh

Pardon My Presence by ShiDreamin

Everything Will Be A-Okay by nikouji

Lucky Cat by deafmic

The Misadventures of the Yamazawa Family by ComplicatedSquishy101

Home Alone by fecklessphilanderer

a voice your body jumps to callin' out your name by sparrowsAce, wander_wren

Last (First) Adventure by deafmic

You've Got A Heart As Loud As Lions by Robbirdthe8th (FictionalFeather) (warning! this work contains sexual abuse. I felt it was a difficult decision to include this here, as it is an incredibly complex topic and also incredibly important. This work is written with such respect and love, with such sensitivity, I cannot even begin to express it in words. Please, if this topic is disturbing and triggering to you, please be careful to read it.)

This concludes my top list. I finished reading about two months ago and plan to return soon and see what new and good is being written along this Father-Son trope. If you have any other cool works that are not presented here and you want to share them, send them into comments. I would be very glad! Thank you for attention!

[injeolmibbingsuu]

FOR MY COUNTRY, AND FOR YOU

starring: soldier!scoups x fem!reader

Summary: In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, right before the Japanese annexation of Korea, a military soldier from America and a noblewoman from Korea have reunited. The love that they used to share and now share protects each other, but will it be enough to save one another?

Warnings: blood, guns, use of the word "damning" and "damned", major character death

Word Wount: 9.5k

Aus: romance, angst

A/N: mister sunshine on netflix has been spinning around in my head. the pain that the kdrama gave me is so jarring and haunting that all i could do is write about it... this is simply self-indulgent. a lot of the scenes adapted from the kdrama were the ones that personally loved. Likes, comments, and reblogs are all so appreciated! (This is my first ever fic... please be nice! ^^)

Terms to Know:

Hanseong = Seoul's Old Name.

Chosun = Unified Korea's Old Name.

READER POV:

I could only see the stars from where I lay, scattered across the sky like shards of light. So beautiful against their endless black, but their beauty did little to ease the pain in my chest and my side. The pain was like fire, searing and relentless, with each breath a reminder of what little time I had left. The cold night air bit at my exposed skin, my chest heaving as I tried to draw in another breath.

It was then that I heard it - his voice. The sound I had been longing for, but now it twisted my heart. With a groan of pain, I twisted my head. Through the haze of my fading vision, I just could make out the faint glow of the flames in his torch. His presence, his search for me, was cruel in its timing. It was too late. As my mouth opened to call to him, the words caught in my throat… He would never make it in time. So I turned my head back, watching as the stars became distant, fading slowly into the night.

—

I was the last person who should have participated in such dangerous activities. As the grandchild to one of the most respected families in all of Chosun, my place was meant to be one of quiet obedience. Wrapped up in my luxury of silence, I should have been content to stay within the shadows. I should have let tradition guide my steps to be docile, to be compliant, to fade into the background like a ghost.

But how could I? 

How could I keep my head down when I saw the flags of the foreign countries, so boldly raised above our own, fluttering as if they owned our land? The sight of them in the wind, their colors foreign against the sky, made my blood boil. How could I sit idly while Chosun - my Chosun - was stripped of its dignity? Our people, our king, were reduced to pawns on the world’s chessboard. The thought plagued me, churning in my chest like a storm. 

As if the Japanese had not already taken up enough space as it was… The Americans arrived several months later. It seemed that Hanseong was only expecting further ‘permanent’ guests. Not only did the countries arrive, but so did the whispers. Harmlessly passed, but potent. Whispers of a movement. A movement to take back our land, to put the crown back where it belonged, to restore our honor. 

I was no warrior, I was no fighter. But this was my land, my blood, my people. And when I thought of the land I had known, how could I turn my back on it? How could I allow it to fall into the hands of people who did not understand its soul? No. I could not. I would not. 

—

The first time I met S.COUPS was my first mission. To be clear, he wasn’t just anyone - I was told that he was my mission. I met him for the first time through the cold, impersonal lens of my gun, its weight familiar within my hands. It was a strange way to be introduced to a man, but, at the time, formal greetings were a luxury. 

Since I was given my assignment, my captain’s words echoed in my mind: “There is a new Captain in the U.S. Marine Corps, named S.COUPS, now stationed in Hanseong. He’s a threat. A problem. Eliminate him by any means necessary. Tonight.” There was little room for hesitation. I had to prove myself. As a noble, most of my comrades saw me as nothing more than an outsider. This mission was my chance to show them that I was just as capable and committed to sacrifice everything for Chosun. 

With my comrade, Sunwoo, at my side, I slinked into the shadows of the night, slipping silently into the U.S. legation. The place disgusted me. A waste of such resources, I thought. The bricks, the walls, the cement, even the shingles could have been used to construct better homes, shelters for the hungry and cold children living just below the Han River. But there I was, about to climb over the very structure that should have been for my people. 

We were both dressed in the attire of the foreigners that we had come to despise. The trenchcoats, dark and draping, masked the shape of our bodies as we moved. Our faces were hidden under hats, and our mouths were hidden with long masks extending to our collarbones. Although meant to shield us from recognition, I knew the real reason: when we exchanged our hanboks for this Western apparel, both our names and our identities were lost. We would be forgotten, but our purpose would not be. 

Looking at the ends of his trenchcoat, I followed Sunwoo’s shadow. He moved with a graceful, yet practiced precision. Up and over the wall, into the trees, and onto the roof. As soon as we found the roof’s edge, we landed softly, with a quick, silent leap. I could hear the distant hum of voices from within the building, the faint clicking of boots against the polished floors. As we neared the corner of the roof, there he was. The man I had been sent to eliminate. S.COUPS. In a modest room, yet large enough to call an office. 

—

I saw the back of his head before I saw his face. Even then, the shape of his silhouette, the subtle tilt of his neck, was enough to make my heart lurch painfully in my chest. Something about him - about this man - stirred a memory deep within me. I looked at Sunwoo, unease tightening in my brow. Why was the back of S.COUPS’s head black? Should it not be a whitening blonde like the rest of the foreign officers? And his skin - too tan and too familiar - a contrast to the American soldiers I knew. 

I should have ignored it. I should have steadied myself and carried on. Regardless, I hoisted my gun, locking my focus through the lens, and aligning it with the back of his head. I had a job to do. He was my mission. My fingers tightened as I drew in a breath. 

And then, in one horrible instant, he turned. 

I saw his face. 

Everything stopped. 

The gun slipped from my grip, and my arms fell limp at my sides. The years had passed, yes, but I would never forget him. Of course I wouldn’t. How could I? He was the only boy I had ever loved, the one person whose face had haunted my every dream. 

Seungcheol.

I could feel Sunwoo’s eyes burning into my skin, demanding action. Urging me to do what I had been sent here for. I knew what he wanted me to do. He wanted me to lift the fun, make the shot, finish the mission, and to leave. He was waiting for me to move. Every second I hesitated was a risk. Yet, all I could do was stand frozen, caught between the man I once loved and the mission I had sworn to complete.

The tension was unbearable. Then, I felt the fun being ripped from my hands. Sunwoo’s grip was hard and determined. His aim was steady, with the gun now directed at Seungcheol - and all I could do was try to wrestle the weapon from his hands. There was no time to explain. No excuse would make sense at this moment. How could I tell him who Seungcheol was to me? 

As we struggled over some control of the gun, the roof beneath me gave way. The shingles cracked, splintering beneath my feet. Before I could catch myself, I was falling. My body twisted in the air as I crashed to the ground, right outside the window of Seungcheol’s office. 

—

As soon as I made contact with the ground, the world twisted around me violently. My body ached from the fall, but I forced myself to look up, my vision swimming as I did so. That was when I saw Sunwoo’s shadow, swift and fluid, leaping from the rooftops. His figure vanished into the night as he made the return back to camp. 

I let out a pained laugh, the pressure of it aching my ribs. Smart. If I were him, I wouldn't exactly be rushing to save me either. Sunwoo had never been one for sentimentality, and I was simply a distraction, a liability. 

As I struggled to push myself up, the weight of everything began to press down on me. I heard voices - low at first, then growing louder. The harsh, unfamiliar English words began to cut through the air like knives.

“Over there! Get her!”

American soldiers - more than I expected, their uniforms too bright against the night shadows, their weapons raised. They moved swiftly and sharply, scanning me with suspicion. 

Then, I saw him. Seungcheol. Or S.COUPS, to the Americans.

His face was just as breathtaking as the day he disappeared. My heart lurched, recognition and disbelief flooding through me. The soldiers parted as he made his way closely towards me, his eyes narrowing. Everything went still. As he looked down at me, his gaze softened, just for a second. But then it was gone, replaced by something more guarded, more calculated. 

“What should we do with her, Captain?” an American soldier asked, his tone hesitant. 

Seungcheol didn’t answer immediately. He just watched, as I tried to push my aching body off of the dusty ground. His eyes - they lingered, but they were different. They were eyes that had seen too much struggle, too much pain. They were hardened by his own duty, erasing the warmth that I had once sought within them. 

“She’s a threat,” Seungcheol said finally. His voice was too low, too calm. And his jaw was clenched in such a way that I knew that he had made up his mind. His hand hovered near his side, ready to draw his sidearm at any moment. 

I trembled. No, I thought. This isn’t him. This can’t be him.

I tried to speak, to call out to him, but my voice was strangled. The words refused to come out. How could I possibly explain what I had become…? How could I explain that this mission wasn’t about him, but it was about Chosun…?

One of the American soldiers stepped forward, pressing his rifle and his boot sharply into my side, causing me to flinch and release a groan of pain. 

“You heard the captain. Move.” His tone was unforgiving, but I understood none of it. 

Seungcheol raised his hand, stopping them. His gaze was still locked on my trembling form, but now there was a flicker of something - something familiar beneath the surface. 

“Don’t touch her,” Seungcheol ordered, his voice unwavering. 

I understood from his tone that he had released a command. And I knew that it was his voice that was stopping me from breaking entirely. He was giving me something, a chance. A moment of fleeting grace. 

“Take her into custody,” he said, turning his back to me. His voice was cold again, the mask of a hardened American officer falling black into place. As the soldiers picked me up and moved in to secure me, I saw the briefest flicker of something in his eyes. But whether it was regret or pity, I could not tell.

—

The room the American soldiers dragged me into was cramped, suffocatingly so. And it smelled. Mostly of mildew of decay. There was a faint, sickly green hue clinging to the floorboard edges, with mold weaving in between. The uneven floor had straw strewn about, and the boards creaked underneath my weight.

I let out a long, weary sigh. My grandfather would most likely be the one to get me out, of course. He would come, not to rescue, but to scold. First, for joining such a cause; second, for getting caught; third, for my attire. Most likely in that order too, I thought bitterly. 

The soldiers had been kind enough to toss me a consolation prize for being their prisoner. A hunk of hard bread. But I couldn’t bring myself to touch the dry, cracked bread. I let it sit, untouched. It didn’t matter; nothing did. 

I simply sat against the walls of the cell.. Waiting. I wasn’t even sure what I was waiting for. I was certain that Seungcheol wouldn’t come. Although he had recognized me, he was no longer the boy that I had known. And I was no longer the person he knew either. 

Hours blurred together. The door remained shut, and I remained alone. Until I wasn’t. 

The sound of heavy boots approached, and the door creaked open. In the doorway was a soldier of rigid posture and an unforgiving gaze. Behind him, a shadow loomed, a more commanding one. I froze. 

It was my grandfather.

He was dressed in his usual hanbok, the long coat flowing. His silver hair, tightly bound, caught in the light. His expression was a mask of calm authority, but I knew better. His eyes betrayed his anger. 

I rose slowly, my body still aching from the fall and now the hours spent on the cold floor. My grandfather’s eyes swept over me, taking in my disheveled appearance. 

“You’ve caused quite the mess,” he said, his tone low and clipped. His disappointment felt like a weight pressed on my chest. “Let’s go.”

As I stepped forward, I caught sight of another figure standing outside the doorway. Seungcheol.

He wasn’t looking at me. Instead, his gaze was fixed on my grandfather. He was maintaining a military stance, his posture tense and his hands clasped behind his back. There was a flicker of a storm within his eyes. 

“You’re letting her go?” he asked, his voice steady but sharp, tinged with frustration.

My grandfather turned to him. “She’s my granddaughter. You have no jurisdiction here.”

Seungcheol’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought that he might argue. But his eyes flicked to me, and I saw the recognition and the conflict within his eyes. He knew who I was. He said nothing, opting for a curt nod and stepping back to let us pass.

My grandfather’s hand gripped my arm tightly, guiding me with a firm resolve. But my thoughts still lingered on Seungcheol. On the way his gaze had softened before he had turned back to the hardened officer. 

Once we were outside, my grandfather pulled me aside, his grip tightening. “Do you have any idea the shame you are about to risk this family? Hundreds of years of pristine lineage only to be ruined with the ideas of a- a girl! You may think that this mighty resistance of yours is noble, but it will get you killed. Or worse, bring ruin to this family.”

I met his gaze. “If our family fails to stand for our people, fails to stand for Chosun, then what does it stand for? What is there to lose?”

His expression darkened, “Find your own way home.” He turned and walked toward the carriage in the distance. I stood there in silence, watching his figure retreat. 

As I walked away from the U.S. legation, I glanced back. To my surprise, Seungcheol was still standing there, watching me. His hands were still behind his back, his posture rigid, but his eyes… His eyes were anything but. They burned with a thousand questions, with memories I knew he couldn’t forget, and with something else I couldn’t quite name. 

—

I forced myself to look away. What would I even say to him? That I had missed him? That I had wondered where he had gone? (American, apparently.) That I had been sent to kill him?

There were no words for this moment. Only an unspoken tension that stretched between us. Clenching my fists, I walked faster. Early in the morning, the streets of Hanseong were quiet. But it was the kind of quiet that made you feel exposed, vulnerable. I pulled the trenchcoat tighter around me, shivering slightly from the cold winter chill. It felt wrong against my skin now. 

Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, its sharp cry cutting through the quiet. I flinched, the sound jolting me out of my thoughts. My mind raced… now with thoughts of the resistance. By now, Sunwoo would have made it back to the camp. He would surely tell the others, even our leading captain. What would they think of me? Of my failure? Would I be branded a traitor for sparing Seungcheol… or would I simply be seen as a weak noblewoman they already thought I was? 

I let out a sigh. It didn’t matter. I just needed a place to hide and to change before I got recognized. What an uproar that would cause: a high-ranking Korean noblewoman dressed in Western fashions. 

But as I turned the corner to go to the tailor, I froze. 

There he was. 

Seungcheol. 

He stood at the edge of the street, half-shrouded in shadow. His arms were relaxed, yet I could feel the pent-up tension within him. For a moment, neither of us moved. 

“What were you doing at the legation tonight?” His voice was low, controlled, but it bordered suspicion.

I hesitated. There were more things I could say than I could not. 

“I was…” I faltered, searching for an excuse. “I was lost.”

“Lost?” His brow lifted, skepticism evident. He took a step closer, his boots scuffing against the cobblestones. “In a trenchcoat? In the dead of night? On the roof of an American military post?”

The way he said it made it sound absurd. I couldn’t blame him. It was, in every way, absurd. But I couldn’t afford to let him see the cracks in my composure.

“I- I simply needed a place to think,” I replied, keeping my tone as steady as possible. 

He stopped a few paces away, his gaze flickering over me like he was trying to piece together a puzzle. “You were never a good liar, you know.” My breath caught. He knew. He didn’t have proof, but I knew that he knew. I forced myself to meet his eyes, even as my chest tightened with fear and something else - something dangerously close to longing. 

“You shouldn’t be wandering around like this. Do you have any idea what could have happened if the wrong person had seen you?” He stepped closer, making it harder to breathe. 

“What if they did see? What then?”

“Then I would have had no choice but to follow orders.” His expression darkened, his features hardening. 

“Seungcheol, why are you doing this? You’re wearing the clothes of an American as a man of Chosun. Why are you-”

“Don’t,” he cut me off sharply. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

I froze. His words sliced through any connection that I thought that we could share. He stepped back, his expression unreadable now. 

“Go home,” he said, his tone colder. “Don’t come back to the legation.”

He turned on his heel and began to walk away, his figure slowly blending into the start of the busy market. The distance between us grew with each step he took, but the ache in my chest only deepened. 

—

The walk back to the resistance camp was a long, shameful one. My trenchcoat only seemed to weigh heavily on my shoulders as I twisted and turned through the deserted roads. The sun had just begun to rise as I reached the hidden entrance of the camp. 

When I slipped inside, the air was tense. I could feel the weight of their stares before I saw their faces. Sunwoo stood at the center, arms crossed and gaze sharp, his expression unreadable. The judgy whispers of the members began. 

“She shouldn’t be here,” someone hissed.

“Compromising the mission…”

“The audacity of these nobles…”

Sunwoo raised a hand, silencing their complaints. “You have a lot of nerve coming back here.”

I swallowed hard. I had expected as much. “I didn’t come back to beg for forgiveness. I came back because I am still useful to the cause.”

“Useful?” Sunwoo scoffed. “You failed our mission. You jeopardized all of us. Why should we trust you?”

I clenched my fists, my mind racing for a way to salvage what credibility I had left. Then it hit me. A lie. But one that might be enough to save me. 

“I have an ally within the American legation…” I began, my voice steady despite the knot forming in my stomach. “S.COUPS - Seungcheol - is a Chosun man. Surely, one would be able to reason with him.”

“And why would an American soldier - a Marine captain, no less - find reason with you?” Sunwoo questioned as his eyes narrowed.

“Because he’s conflicted… He has connections to Chosun, perhaps more than we all think. If we can leverage that, we will find ourselves with an advantage.”

Sunwoo sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. And I dared to crack a smile… he would let me stay. 

—

A week later, the resistance was abuzz with activity. Plans were drawn, maps were unfurled, and the vengeance’s passion filled the air. This time, the target was the Japanese legation - another symbol of growing oppression on Chosun soil.

I was assigned to watch this time, tagging behind Sunwoo. To be ‘taught’ how to carry out a mission properly. I knew it was a punishment, a reminder that I had yet to prove myself and gain my place within the resistance. 

The night was still, the kind of stillness that seemed to amplify any and all sounds. I watched from Sunwoo’s side how the others moved with precision, slipping past the sleepy guards and into the center of the legation. 

Then, the gunshot. Followed by an explosion. 

The shingles of the roof beneath me and Sunwoo shook as flames erupted from within the building. Shouts filled the air, followed by more gunfire and chaos. By the time Sunwoo and I had jumped onto the roof of the building across the street, the smoke had cleared. I could see the others retreating into the shadows, their mission successful. A high-ranking Japanese official had been eliminated. 

I slipped away before the Japanese soldiers could organize themselves, my heart pounding. 

—

By the time summer had rolled around, Hanseong’s main market was alive with the sounds of bargaining and laughter. The scent of fresh produce mingled with the sharp spices. Navigating through the crowd in my hanbok, I felt safer, more in-tune. 

But the smell of the gunpowder from last night clung to me still. I had scrubbed my hands raw, but the scent lingered, stubborn and damning.

I had just picked up a bundle of herbs when I felt it - a gaze, sharp and unwavering. I knew it was him even before I turned.

Seungcheol. 

He stood a few stalls away, dressed in his uniform. His presence was commanding and out of place amongst the bustling market crowd. His eyes locked onto mine, narrowing slightly as he stepped closer.

“We meet again,” he said, his voice calm. 

I nodded curtly, “I can see that… Well, if that is all, I shall be on my way.” I turned.

His gaze lingered before he called out. “You’ve been busy.”

I looked back at him, gripping the herbs tightly in my grasp. “As have you.” 

He stepped closer, and my breath hitched. His nostrils flared slightly, and I saw the realization dawn in his eyes. “That smell…” His words trailed off.

My mind raced. “The market. The vendors. Their spice powders can be overpowering,” I said quickly.

His eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I thought he would press for more. But he stood back. 

“Be careful,” he said softly. “These days, you never know who might be watching.”

He turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd. But his words lingered, as did the look in his eyes. He knew. And yet, he had let me go. 

—

The resistance’s latest target was a high-risk endeavor, but a necessary one. Our supplies were running low… and there was a weapons shipment bound for the Japanese legation. One successful mission and we wouldn’t need to come down to Hanseong unless it was for missions. It was critical, one that could tip the scales greatly in our favor. I volunteered. I had seen the legation enough to know the layout like the back of my hand. 

The night was cloaked in heavy clouds, with moonlight barely shining through. I moved like a shadow. My mission was to distract them from above while my comrades would steal the supplies from the ship. As I slipped past guards, my heart raced with the thrill of the mission, but there was a small sense of unease I couldn’t seem to shake. 

In the distance, I could see that the interception had gone well, with most supplies now under the arms of my comrades. I busied myself with my rifle, aiming at the nearby Japanese soldiers. Everything was going to plan until it wasn’t. One misstep - creak of metal beneath my feet - and the silence shattered. A shout rang out, followed by the thundering of boots. 

“Run!” Sunwoo’s voice was distant, drowning in the chaos. Over my shoulder, I could see that most of my comrades had safely made it into the forest. It would be near impossible for the Japanese to follow; they could barely organize around Hanseong and that was with the occasional Japanese sign. As I turned to run as well, a searing pain suddenly bloomed in my side. A bullet had grazed me. I stumbled, clutching the wound as my warm blood only added to the humidity and wetness of the summer. My vision blurred, but I forced myself forward, slipping into the darkened woods beyond the legation.

—

I don’t know how long I stumbled through the forest. Each step was agony, with each breath a struggle. The wound, thankfully, wasn’t deep… but it was quickly draining my energy. The world around me was becoming more of a thick haze of shadows and faint moonlight. 

I spotted a tree, with a trunk wide enough to partially hide me, in case the Japanese did manage to track me all this way. I collapsed against it. My body was too weak to continue, and my mind continued to jump the line between consciousness and oblivion. The stars above me blurred, and for a moment, I thought I heard footsteps. 

“_____”

“_____!”

The calling of my name was distant at first. A whisper that I simply passed off as part of my delirium. But then it grew louder. 

My eyes slowly blinked open… through the haze, I saw him. Seungcheol. His face was a mixture of disbelief and panic as he knelt beside me. 

“What are you doing out here?” he demanded, his voice trembling. “Why are you-” His words cut off as his eyes fell to the blood staining my side.

He cursed under his breath, pulling it off his jacket and pressing it to the wound. I groaned and whined in protest.

“Hurts…” I mumbled.

“Stay with me,” he said, his tone a mixture of command and desperation. “You’re going to be fine.”

___

He scooped me up in his arms, carrying me all the way to a small, abandoned shack deep in the woods. His movements, I could tell, were hurried yet careful not to worsen my condition. He laid me down on a tattered blanket, his hands never straying far from my wound. 

“I’ll be right back,” he said, his voice softer now. “Don’t move.”

Maybe Seungcheol had grown accustomed to saying such absurd things in America. Where could I possibly go? I almost let out a laugh at the absurdity of his words. Instead, I watched as he disappeared into the night, only to return moments later with water and a small satchel.

“This will sting,” he warned. He wasn’t wrong. I thrashed as he cleaned the wound and applied medicine with his steady hands. 

Right before I succumbed to sweet oblivion, I whispered, “Why are you helping me?”

He paused, his eyes meeting mine. “Why wouldn’t I?”

____

When I woke a few hours later, he was still there. He was just sitting there, watching me. The silence between us was heavy as I pulled myself into an upright position. I noticed that my bandages had been changed from the time I had lost consciousness.

I swallowed, unable to face his gaze. “Thank you…”

“You shouldn’t be here. This isn’t your fight,” was his only reply. His voice was firm, as if he wasn’t leaving any room for argument. 

“It is my fight,” my voice stronger than I expected. 

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

At that, a bitter smile tugged at my lips. “Maybe. But isn’t there a little bit of fun in that? I would rather die fighting for something than dying for nothing.”

—

When dawn broke, the light filtered through the cracks in the shack’s walls. And as it did so, I felt a new sense of clarity wash upon me. I couldn’t stay here. Not with him. The resistance would be looking for me, and I couldn’t risk Seungcheol’s position by being found with him.

But I couldn’t help myself. “How did you know about this shack?”

He shrugged. “My soldiers like to bathe in the Han River… when they go out, they come here to change and store their belongings.”

His use of the word “soldiers” seemed to shake me. 

“You should go,” I said, heaving out the words despite the pain. “You’ve done more than enough.”

He frowned, displeased with the idea. “You’re in no condition to-”

“Oh please. You’ve left me once before. With a pain more hurtful than this. What difference will this time make?” I snap.

He stands up, his posture rigid again. “You have no idea what you’re-”

“Do I not? Or was I simply just imagining when you disappeared? When you left me without a word? When I stood, waiting for you to come home every day? Like a pathetic idiot, waiting for a guy who would never show up.”

His face softens at that. “You- you waited?”

I scowled at him. “What does it matter? Are you going to tell me now where you’ve been? What would be the point? I know where you’ve been. You’ve been in the land of the Americans. Climbing the ranks as a soldier. Now returning back to Chosun during a time of peril with the security of the American flag behind you. I bet-”

He cut in. “Shut up. You have no right to belittle my efforts. You have no idea how much worse life was for me in Chosun than it ever was in America.”

“Worse? You call a life with me in it worse than a life without me? You cruel man,” I scoffed.

“I-” He hesitated as he crouched down to my side. “Don’t put words in my mouth. You know I would never say that,” he barked. 

Then, with a sigh, he continued, “When I left Chosun, you were much younger than I. You simply remembered me as the older brother who shared the same house as you, an occasional friend. I know you did. But to me, you were much more than that. You were the granddaughter of my master, your grandfather. I could do nothing but revere you… But you know as well as I that I did more than revere you.”

With a soft chuckle, “You know I came to love you. I loved visiting the fields with you, picking out flowers that you would put in the bouquets. I loved when you would sneak me your own food to try all the different banchan. I loved when I saw you in different hanbok dresses. I loved when you… I loved you.”

I turned my head from his own at his confession, tears already forming at the brink of my lashes. The breath that I took in shuddered me, large amounts of oxygen flooding through me. I mumbled, “Then why did you leave? Why did you leave me alone?”

“How could I not? You were a noble… and I was a slave. How could I have even begun to ask for you to be with me? But, besides that, I do not know if you recall, but my mother had passed a couple days prior. With me being too young, your grandfather wanted to get rid of me… So when I saw the boat bound for America, I knew that it was my chance. I could have a new chance… to be someone or make someone of myself.”

With great effort, I turned my head back to face him. “I missed you…” I choked out. “Everyday.”

He smiled softly as he pushed back a couple loose strands of my hair. “I know… because I did too.”

—

I was about to fall back asleep when I heard the calling of my name… My comrades had come. 

“Go. Seungcheol, you have to go,” I stammered. “They can’t- They can’t find us like this.”

He hesitated before standing up again and brushing off his uniform, looking every bit American as he possibly could. He stepped out into the morning light but not before glancing back and whispering a “Be careful” to me. It was all I could do to give him a small nod.

By the time my comrades made it to me, I was standing. A bit hesitantly and with help from the wall, but I was standing. They carried me to the base camp where Sunwoo waited. I knew that I hadn’t succeeded in the mission, but I hadn’t failed at the same time… I was praying for some leniency, if Sunwoo had any left to give, that was. 

He didn’t speak. Rather, he looked at me, sighed, and motioned for me to go to the infirmary. I let out a soft chuckle. It seemed as though our great leader was going a bit soft. 

—

The next time I met Seungcheol was in the fall. The air was crisp, with the faint scent of fallen leaves and distant fires carried around by the wind. This time as well, I was in my trenchcoat, the hems of the cloth brushing against the cobblestones. But unlike last time, we were walking. Side by side. Together. Our footsteps falling and rising together, in an unspoken dance that neither of us had rehearsed. 

The resistance had run another mission on the Japanese legation. It was a reckless one, born out of Sunwoo’s growing anxiety and nervousness. Although against it from the start, I had caused too much trouble in previous skirmishes to cause a big protest. As I finished up my mission, I found myself jumping over the legation’s wall and landing in a narrow alleyway. It was then that I sensed someone. A shadow stepped into the dim light of a lantern. 

It was him. 

Seungcheol standing there, his silhouette imposing against the lantern’s glow. His expression was unreadable at first, a flicker shock tempered by mild amusement. It was infuriating, and I shot him my most lethal glare. But just as quickly, his features hardened into the cold, unreadable mask of a soldier when the sound of approaching footsteps reached us. 

He moved faster than I could react. In one motion, he grabbed my arm, hauling me upright and yanking the mask off my face. The fall air stung my exposed skin, but before I could protest, he leaned and mumbled in my ear. 

“Up, now. Walk naturally.” 

My body obeyed before my mind did. His grip was firm but not painful, steadying me as my legs found their balance. The warmth of his hand against my arm was startling in the chilly air. His closeness sent a shiver down my spine, one that had nothing to do with the cold.

We had barely taken a step before the Japanese soldiers approached us. Their boots clattered loudly against the cobblestones, the sounds echoing throughout the alley. Seungcheol’s hold tightened around me, his presence grounding as the soldiers’ voices rang out. 

“Halt! Identify yourselves!”

I tensed up, body frozen. But Seungcheol simply turned, his posture straight and commanding. His authority seemed to shine through as his grip on my arm loosened slightly. 

They approached us cautiously, their eyes narrowing as they took in our outfits. I could only imagine how we looked. Two people of Chosun descent dressing up and parading around in Western clothing. Suspicion hung in the air until one of them barked a question in Japanese. Seungcheol didn’t flinch, answering in English. The smooth and unhurried tone of his voice unnerved the Japanese soldiers.

“Is there a problem?” he asked, his tone deceptively casual. He made slight efforts to show his own handgun and the United States military insignias decorating his uniform. 

The soldiers hesitated, their authority faltering beneath his unyielding stare. One of them muttered something under his breath, frustrated, before gesturing us to move along. I could barely suppress the smirk tugging at my lips as we continued walking, their presence fading behind us. Seungcheol’s hand still rested lightly on my arm, a connection I wasn’t quite ready to sever. 

When we were safely out of earshot, he finally spoke, his voice low and edged with exasperation. 

“What are you doing here?”

I couldn’t bring myself to answer. I knew that he knew what I was doing there. He just wanted to hear it from my own mouth. He stopped walking, turning to face me fully. His eyes bore into mine, the tension between us mounting. 

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. 

I pulled my arm from his grasp, the absence of his touch jarring me. 

“Thank you for tonight,” I said quietly, turning before he could see the turmoil on my face. As I walked away, I didn’t look back. But I could feel his gaze on me, heavy and lingering, long after I disappeared back into the shadows of the city. 

—

As tensions between the Japanese forces and the resistance escalated, the streets of Hanseong grew darker, more oppressive. The once lively markets were now patrolled, with soldiers stationed at seemingly every corner. Every resistance operation seemed to be much more publicized, with each success coming at higher costs. 

The resistance, under Sunwoo, was becoming reckless, and I knew it. We all knew it. His actions, once calculating and cautious, were now borderline suicidal. The people of Hanseong were suffering with us, perhaps even more, as they were caught in the crossfire of their oppressors and the rebels who had risen up to protect them. 

The summer rains were battering on the rooftops of Hanseong when I met Seungcheol again. I had just returned from a mission. My hanbok was muddy and damp, but the materials and supplies were safe back at camp. I could breathe now. I was just slipping through the alley when I heard footsteps growing louder behind me. 

My heartbeat quickened, and I reached for the small knife I had hidden in my waistband. I turned, ready to strike, but froze when I saw who it was. 

Seungcheol stood there, his trenchcoat glistening with rain, droplets clinging to the dark strands of his hair. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, as though he had been searching for me for hours. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, the world came to a still.

“_____” he said, his voice low and edged with urgency. “We need to talk.”

My grip on the knife faltered, and I tucked it back into my waistband.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered before glancing around to make sure that we weren’t being watched.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he barked out, stepping closer. “But I already know the answer.” His gaze flicked to the faint smudges of soot on my sleeve, the faint tang of gunpowder that lingered in the air around me. His jaw tightened. “You’re still with them.”

I crossed my arms, meeting his faze with a defiance that barely masked my exhaustion. Before I could respond, his tone softened. “Associating with them isn’t good for you. Look at what it’s doing to you.”

“What it's doing to me?” I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “This isn’t about me, Seungcheol. This is about Chosun. About my people, your people, my family, my-”

“Your life!” he interrupted, his voice rising. The raw emotion in his tone caught me off guard. “_____, they’re tightening their grip. The Japanese are bringing in reinforcements. They’re not going to stop until they crush the resistance entirely - and everyone involved.”

I stared at him, the rain soaking through my hair, my clothes, but I could barely feel it. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t see it every day?”

“Then leave,” he said, stepping closer. His voice had dropped to a whisper by now. “Leave before it’s too late. You can… you can come with me. If we marry, my citizenship will protect you. My ranking will protect you… In America, we can- we can find other ways to fight. Ways that don’t involve you throwing your life away.”

My breath hitched, my eyes widening as his words sank in. “You’re asking me to leave Chosun? To leave my people? My family?” My voice cracked as I spoke, and I felt the tears I had been holding back threaten to spill over. 

“I’m asking you to stay alive,” he said, his voice trembling now, the vulnerability in his tone cutting through my defenses. “I’m asking you to give yourself a chance. To give us a chance.”

My chest ached, my heart pulled in a thousand directions at once. I searched his face, seeing his desperation, his hope, his fear. I wanted to take his outstretched hand and escape the chaos and violence of it all. 

But I could not. Not when so much was at stake. Not when the resistance needed every able body it had. Not when my soul was tethered to Chosun’s soil, no matter how bloodied it became. 

“I can’t,” I said finally, my voice barely a whisper. “I can’t walk away, Seungcheol. Not now. Not ever.”

I knew the words broke him. His shoulders slumped, and his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. But he did not argue. Instead, he stepped back, his head bowing slightly as if in resignation. 

“You should go,” I said. “If they find you here…”

He nodded but didn’t move. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against mine for the briefest moment. The touch was enough to shatter what little composure I had left.

—

It was just a little over a year when I was able to see Seungcheol again. I had come to see him… for what I thought would be the last time. Whispers around Hanseong told me that Seungcheol had received orders to return to America, with tensions in Chosun only rising. 

I hadn’t planned what I would say. In truth, I hadn’t even planned to see him. But the thought of him leaving - of walking this earth with an ocean between us, knowing I may never see him again - was unbearable. 

As I approached the U.S. legation, I stayed out of sight of the guards, wrapping my mask around my face and pulling the collars of my trenchcoat up. The shadows on the night clung to me as I waited for the lantern light in his office to flicker out. But it stubbornly stayed lit as his eyes scanned over various maps and documents. Hours passed until the door finally creaked open. 

Seungcheol stepped out into the night, his uniform pristine but his expression weary. He paused on the steps, staring into the distance as if lost in thought. It was now or never. 

“Seungcheol,” I called softly, stepping out of the shadows. 

He whispered my name before descending the steps, closing the distance between us. His gaze swept over me, taking in the worn state of my coat, the dark circles under my eyes, and the trembling in his hands. 

I slowly removed my mask as I looked up at him. “I heard you’re leaving.”

He nodded. “Orders came a week ago. I leave in three days.”

I give him a small, pained smile. “You must be glad. You are able to leave this behind… You will be safe; I’m glad.”

He let out a long sigh. “Why are you here?” His voice was low, strained, and he couldn’t hide the frustration that bled into every word. “That summer night… I thought I made myself clear. I asked you to come with me, to leave this behind. Leave this damned war behind. To come with me. To be free of this.”

My lips trembled slightly, but I held his gaze. “I couldn’t. You know I couldn’t. Chosun needs me. The people need me.”

The words stung him harder than he had anticipated. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand my commitment to the cause. He knew that my heart was bound to this land. That I believed in the freedom of the Chosun people above all else. But hearing me say it again, hearing me choose this war, this death over the life that they could have together - I knew it it gutted him. 

“I know,” he muttered, rubbing his face with his hand. I could see his frustration welling up inside him like an uncontrollable storm. He stepped closer, his fists clenching at his sides. “You’ve chosen this war over me. Over us. You’ve chosen to fight for a country that doesn’t even give you the respect you deserve.”

My face hardened. “And you? You chose American. You chose them over Chosun. Your own people.”

Seungcheol flinched at the accusation, but it was the truth. His mother had been betrayed, his rights stripped from the very people he was supposed to call brethren. He hated them. He had hated them for so long. But now, standing before me - I could tell that he didn’t know who he was anymore. He reached out, grabbing my shoulders with desperation in his touch. 

“I don’t care about America anymore,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t care about the army, the power, about anything. But you. Please. Come with me. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to die for Chosun. You could be with me, _____. You could have a life where we are free from all this.”

I knew my eyes were betraying to him my own longing for him. But my voice was steady.

“I wish I could, Seungcheol. I really do. But I can not. I can not leave them behind. I can not abandon my country.”

His hands tightened on my shoulders as a sense of helplessness washed over him. I was slipping away from him, like water running through his fingers.

“Why?” he demanded, his voice breaking. “Why can’t you just come with me? I would take care of you. I would protect you. You don’t need to fight anymore. We can leave together, start over. You don’t have to die in this war.”

I let out a soft exhale, closing my eyes for a brief moment. 

I whispered to him, “Do you think I have not imagined it? Do you think I do not dream of walking the streets of America with you? Of studying there, laughing there, waking up beside you every day there? I have imagined it so many times, Seungcheol. But every time, when I close my eyes and flee to America, I open them… and I am back in Chosun. This is my fight, and I can not abandon it. I can not abandon them. It’s alright. I have made my peace with it.”

Seungcheol pulled me towards him then, as if trying to hold onto me before I could disappear. He kissed me, his lips desperate against mine, as if trying to breathe life into the both of us. But when he pulled away, I knew that the look in my eyes had told him everything.

As he held me, he told me, “You’re going to die in this war. I know you are…I know you’ll die in this fight. And I won’t be able to stop it.”

I pulled back, looking at him for a long moment before replying softly, “I know.”

—

SEUNGCHEOL POV: 

The cold wind stung his skin as he stumbled through the debris-littered street, his heart thudding in his ears. He had seen her fall. But he refused to believe it…

He had heard that she had been hit, caught in the crossfire. With every step, his desperation grew. His eyes darted around frantically, scanning the shadows, searching for any sign of her. The weight of his thoughts pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe. He had begged her to leave with him. Begged her to come to America with him. But she hadn’t listened. She hadn’t listened… and now he was afraid that it might be too late.

He pushed his way past fallen beams and jagged rocks, each step echoing louder in the silent night. His hand gripped the torch tighter as its flickering light illuminated the path ahead. He felt a chill. The feeling of impending loss gripped his chest, colder than any night air. 

And then he saw it. The faint outline of a figure on the ground, barely illuminated. His breath caught in his throat. No. It couldn’t be.

_____.

Her body was sprawled on the ground, crumpled like a discarded rag. Blood soaked through the torn fabric of her clothes, pooling around her. Her face was pale, her eyes shut, as though she were in some far-off dream. Her breathing was shallow, the rise and fall of her chest a distant echo of life. 

His heart clenched as he rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside her. The torch fell from his hand, leaving him in near darkness. His trembling hands hovered above her, unsure. He wasn’t sure how to bring her back. He didn’t know if there was anything he could do.

—

BACK TO READER POV: 

I could only see the stars from where I lay, scattered across the sky like shards of light. So beautiful against their endless black, but their beauty did little to ease the pain in my chest and my side. The pain was like fire, searing and relentless, with each breath a reminder of what little time I had left. The cold night air bit at my exposed skin, my chest heaving as I tried to draw in another breath.

It was then that I heard it - his voice. The sound I had been longing for, but now it twisted my heart. With a groan of pain, I twisted my head. Through the haze of my fading vision, I just could make out the faint glow of the flames in his torch. His presence, his search for me, was cruel in its timing. It was too late. As my mouth opened to call to him, the words caught in my throat… He would never make it in time. So I turned my head back, watching as the stars became distant, fading slowly into the night.

Seungcheol reached me just as the chaos of the battlefield seemed to pause, the world narrowing to the sight of my crumpled body in the dirt. His knees hit the ground beside me, his trembling hands pulling me into his arms, his warmth. Blood seeped from my own uniform onto his, staining his hands and chest. My breaths were mere shallow puffs, each one rattling my bullet-riddled chest.

“_____,” he choked, cradling my head against him. “No… no, this can’t- this can’t be happening. Stay with me. Just stay with me, please.”

At his voice, my eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused. But a faint smile crept its way onto my lips when I saw him.

“Seungcheol…” I whispered.

“I’m here,” he rasped, his voice breaking as tears spilled freely from his face. “I’m here. I’ll get you help. You’ll be fine. Just hold on.”

I raised my hand weakly, brushing it slightly against his cheek. It was a touch that was barely there, but it set a whole new onslaught of tears from within Seungcheol. 

—

SEUNGCHEOL POV: 

“_____. Hey, hey. Stay with me. _____,” he whispered, his voice barely a breath.

His fingers brushed her forehead, clearing her hair from her forehead. Trying to comfort her. To keep her with him. 

“You should have come with me,” he murmured. “You should’ve listened.”

But even as he spoke the words, he knew that there was no going back. Only the cold, endless night and the stars above them seemed to mock him with their beauty, their distance.

And then, her voice broke through again. “I couldn’t. Chosun is my home… as it always will be.”

Seungcheol shook his head, his grip tightening around her hand, as if holding onto her could somehow make her stay. “I should’ve… I should’ve made you leave,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I should’ve kept you safe.”

Her eyes fluttered shut again, and Seungcheol's heart began to race with fear. He leaned over her, his forehead brushing against hers, his tears falling freely now. 

“Stay with me…” he begged, his voice raw with desperation. “Don’t leave me. Not like this. Not now.”

But as the last traces of her breath slowed, he realized with a sinking feeling in his chest that she was slipping away. And as much as he tried to hold on, as much as he tried to breathe life into her, there was nothing he could do but watch.

_____’s body went limp beneath him, her pulse faint and fading. 

With one last, painful groan, she turned her head slightly, her gaze lifting to the stars above them. The night sky stretched on endlessly, the stars scattered like shards of light across a vast, infinite blackness. So beautiful. 

He felt her motion to the sky, and he found the strength within him to tear his gaze from her and onto the diamond sky. 

“As far as that star. That’s how much… That’s how much I love you.” Her final words escaped her lips with a small shake, soft and barely audible. 

In the now silence of the night, Seungcheol held her in his arms. The stars above faded slowly into the night, and the world felt too vast, too cold, and too empty without her.

—

SEUNGCHEOL POV: 

He stood alone in the quiet cemetery. The air was thick with the scent of flowers, and the ground beneath his feet was soft from the gentle spring rains. His fingers brushed against the edge of the gravestone, as if seeking out a connection. The name carved into the stone was familiar, but seeing it written there was like a punch to the chest. It was a stark reminder of how the world had been and how much had been lost. 

_____.

He had never imagined it would come to this. That the woman who had once stood so fiercely, so unyielding for her country, would now lie beneath the soil of it. His thoughts swirled with memories - her defiance, her unwavering love for Chosun, the battles she had fought.

“Chosun is free now,” Seungcheol whispered now. His voice was thick with emotion. The Korean words were foreign on his tongue after so many years. “You did it. It is everything you fought for.”

He kneeled beside her grave, his hand resting on the cold stone as his heart ached for all that could have been. The sky above was clear, the sun bright. It felt like the world was holding its breath, as if time had slowed to mourn for her, even if it was for just a second. The years had passed, and yet, it was as though she was still here - still fighting and still watching over the land she loved so fiercely. 

Seungcheol closed his eyes, letting the wind brush past him, carrying with it the sounds of the new Chosun - the laughter, the bustling marketplaces, the children playing in the streets. The tears he had never allowed himself to shed all those years ago finally fell. They were for the lost battles, the lives torn apart, for everything that could have been, for the years stolen from them both. He had never found the courage to tell her how much she meant to him. How much he had loved her. How much he still loved her. 

He glanced at the horizon, where the last rays of sunlight painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson. The land was free, as she had wanted. It felt incomplete without her presence, but he could still feel pieces of her light that had shone so brightly. 

“I hope… wherever you are now that you can see this. You can see that Chosun finally stands tall. You did it.”

Tag List: @seungkwansflower !

[possamble]

I'm not allowed to be on social media for more than two seconds today but I just wanted to say that Laios will absolutely have his own reaction to all this as someone who would die for Falin but has also imprinted on Marcille as his Emotional Support Comphet White Girl Not-Girlfriend along the way

[seventh-district]

.

[ohbueckers]

MAKE HER TAPOUT. paige bueckers

description. your competitiveness with paige runs deeper than basketball, and tonight, it’s about who gives in first—or if either of you will at all.

includes. SMUT, 18+. a lot of everything, dude.. i got carried away. just read and find out.

a/n. dedicated to everybody that asked for it! lena’s anon, @kmoneymartini request and all of the comments on that post! saw an edit that had successfully inspired one of my freaky delusions again. also combined that fic i was talking about a few days ago into this, so it’s long but worth it, trust. will probably thoroughly proof read in the morning :)

It wasn’t the first time you’d found yourself like this—pressed up against the cushions of your couch, Paige’s hands roaming like she was trying to memorize every inch of you. Her lips grazed along your neck, her breath hot against your skin, and all you could think about was how you’d barely managed to get the door shut before she’d pinned you there.

Gampel Pavilion had ran a great deal tonight. UConn showed up big time—packed to capacity, ranked matchup, the whole ordeal—and Paige had been absolutely ridiculous. Twenty-five points, nine assists, boards in clutch… She was everywhere. It shouldn’t have been your problem how good she looked doing it, either… yet somehow, it always was.

But tonight, you’d edged her out. You showed up and showed out by one point. And one assist. A fact she hadn’t let go of since the final buzzer.

“Mm.. Paige,” you tried.

And now it was time to show up in a different way—one that didn’t require a ball in your hands.

“Had to one up me tonight, didn’t you?” Paige murmured, lost in the messiness of your lips as she rambled about how sexy it was. You smiled despite yourself, trying to keep up. “Paige,” you tried again.

“Hmm?” she finally responded, her tone as innocent as a baby. She laid you on your back, moving your panties to the side, letting the wetness between your folds instantly coat the pads of her middle and index finger as she circled at your clit. It was always fast, quick-paced. The way you both liked it.

You rubbed your feet together in attempt to ground yourself. “Mmph, you bailed on the team. I.. bailed on the team. Do you know how suspicious that looks?” you mumbled against her lips, though your voice was breathless, caught between tantalizing and surrender. Your post game plans were clear—head to Ted’s with the team despite that gruesome early practice the next morning everyone would be dreading with a hangover, ride out the the high of the win, yadda, yadda, yadda… and pretend you weren’t constantly aware of the girl now pressed against you. It was easy to fake indifference in a room full of people.

That was until you realized you weren’t feeling completely up for it tonight. The booze, loud music, sticky floors of the bar. Paige was in tow, of course, taking it as an opportunity. Alone time was hard enough to get as it is, and the two of you were getting increasingly bad at keeping this quiet. You were close to shooing her off, but she did indeed deserve something after that performance. So did you.

You almost thought she’d stop, but you’d be a fool. “Eh..” Paige murmured, her hand gripping your hip tighter as she pressed you deeper into the cushions, teasing your entrance with her other, like she was trying to erase the words from your memory. It was kind of working. Her lips brushed against yours as she added, “Suspicious of what? That I’d rather be here fucking you to celebrate our win?”

Your hands shot up instinctively, shoving at her shoulders.

“Br—wha.. Ow!” Paige exclaimed, holding herself up over you, a dramatic pout pulling at her lips. She looked downright fine, chain dangling in your face, arm flexing dangerously close to it too. “Relax. Nobody’s checkin’ for us like that,” she reminds.

“Sure, and the sky is yellow.” You squinted, not bothering to go into detail about how far from the truth she was. Instead, you changed the subject, partly because you couldn’t stand the way her chain kept brushing against your neck, and partly because her presence was messing with your ability to think straight. “Figured you’d be out cold by now. You’re usually asleep within an hour after games,” you huffed.

Paige tilted her head at you, her pout morphing into a grin. “Me? That’s disrespectful.” She faked her hurt, and you rolled your eyes.

“It’s not disrespectful, it’s true.”

“Don’t even play with me like that,” she challenged. “You know I don’t quit easy.”

It was your turn to grin. Uncontrollably, really. “Oh? You wanna test that theory?”

Paige was seemingly amused, running her tongue over the swell of her bottom lip. Your eyes darted there against your will, and she noticed. She always noticed. “You’re the one always tappin’ out on me.”

Your mouth fell open in disbelief. “Excuse me!?”

Her laugh was low, her breath fanning across your face. “You heard me,” she teased, her hand sliding a little lower on your hip, her grip tightening. “Last week, remember? Couldn’t handle it.”

Wow. Wooow.

Your eyes narrowed, your mind flashing back to last week—a quickie that happened to turn into multiple rounds. Jana and Allie’s grocery store trip had taken longer than the two of you inclined, and Paige used every minute. Fucked you right into oblivion, skills that had you begging for a break that she hadn’t been willing to give right away. You hated that she was right.

Paige smirked, and you wanted to drag it off of her face. “Just sayin’… if anybody’s tappin’ out, it ain’t me.”

Instead of scolding her some more, maybe even punishing her by not letting her have it tonight just to prove a point, you pulled her back in, hand gripping the side of her face that quickly begun tonguing you down, eyebrows furrowed in the midst of trying to keep up with you.

She adjusted her body lower, leaned into it some more. She thought you were done with the bickering.

“We’ll take turns.”

Paige blinked, clearly not following, breathing an airy, “Huh?” into your mouth.

Without slowing your pace, you grabbed her wrist and guided her hand back between your legs, her fingers grazing over your wetness for the second time. “Take turns,” you repeated. Paige pulled back a couple inches, tugging a swollen lip between her teeth as her eyes scanned your face, taking in the slight flush of your cheeks, and of course, your implication. The wheels turned, and her face softened. “Ah,” she muttered.

“You first,” you dared. And with that, you forced one of her fingers into you, scooting up on the couch. Paige froze for a split second, her lips parting as if she wasn’t sure she’d heard you right. Felt you right. Then her expression shifted, and her lips found yours again like a missing puzzle piece, dragging down your chin and over your jaw.

It would be a long night—truly.

“What you want?” she asked you. “Two. Up.”

The blonde immediately obliged, prying your leg open wider to fall against the back of the couch as she eased another finger in, twisting them over before pumping in and out a few times. “Yes—fuck, yes.” Your eyes flutter shut, head falling back against the arm rest in pure bliss. You rut your hips up, the same motion as her curling digits.

You should’ve known better than to challenge Paige to anything, but your own pride couldn’t fucking help it. Her competitive streak ran deeper than basketball, woven into every fiber of her being. It was one of the many things you had in common. Paige loved to push your limits, to tease you until you couldn’t take it, only to yank you back and dare you to do the same to her. It wasn’t just about pleasure—it was about control, about who could outlast the other, who could take more, give more, until out came a winner.

It’s also what made the sex so good.

You dissolve completely into the feeling, Paige’s long, slender fingers fitting as perfect as always. Her head is still dipped, kisses going around your neck, sloppy and full of her love for you, trying for light nips around your skin. A hand of yours falls to her shoulder, gripping at the muscle as your mouth plummets open wider, nearly like a yawn.

You can feel her smirk against your neck, the way her teeth catch on the sensitive spot below your ear. “God,” you manage to whisper, barely audible over the sound of your ragged breathing, words tumbling out in an incoherent mess, close enough to the one you make on the cushions. She was the only one that could get you absolutely soaked.

“I know, baby. Feels real good, don’t it?” Paige pushes a third finger into you easily, making you moan out from the stretch. She picks up on how your walls clench around her, gushes of your arousal coating her fingers, forming a white ring around the base.

You nod frantically, words stuck in your throat.

Paige quirks her head to the side. “That’s all I get? A nod?” she mocks, something she’s gotten increasingly good at since fucking you. “C’mon, use that pretty mouth. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

Your mind begins to leave you piece by piece, your determination to stay balanced pulling you back in every time. Your grinding motions become harder against her hand, moans becoming deeper by the minute, more pleasure-filled. Your stomach begun to tighten, almost like a hand slowly balling into a fist with a need to just combust and release.

“Paige,” you choke out, voice trembling. “It’s—it’s so good. You’re so—fuck.” You can’t finish the sentence, your nails digging into her shoulder.

She yanks you down, your body sinking further into her, your back forming into more of an arch. Shes giving it her all, and you’re starting to regret letting her go first. “What? Say it,” Paige coaxes as her fingers curl just right. “Tell me how good I am, baby.”

“You’re so good,” you shake your head as Paige slaps the pad of her hand against your clit, the sound entirely too pornographic for your ears. If anything, it spurred Paige on. “You know you are.”

You chew down on your bottom lip, trying your best not to scream at how good the feeling is. “Sound s’sweet praisin’ me like that. Y’gonna come all down my fingers, baby?” She moves them faster, the squelching enough to erase any no’s from your vocabulary. Her hand moves in a back and forward motion, and the more you think about it, the more the desperate need to let go becomes more evident.

“Yes,” you respond in a rush, followed by a few more of the approving word. “Right there, P,” you breathe, arm hooking around her neck to pull her closer, painted nails dragging against her cheek. You’re about to have what you think might be the best release of your life until it’s completely stripped away from you.

Shit, shit, shit.

“No.. no, no, no,” you whine, an antonym of your previous pleads as you dart your eyes open. Paige releases you from her grip, swinging a leg off the couch. You search for any hint of remorse in those eyes that’ve seemed to darken since you last looked, but there isn’t one. Bitch. She stares down at you with a bit of a mocking expression. “Please—“ you start.

You’re interrupted with the shoving of Paige’s fingers down your throat. Your eyelashes flutter back against your skin, lips wrapped tightly around the digits as you inadvertently lick your arousal clean off. With that, she pulls them back with a soft pop, admiring the glisten with a cockiness that has you weak.

“Start wit’ that.”

“Oh, my God…” Paige trailed off, whispering more to herself as she crooks her head to look down at you. New location: your bedroom. New motivation: the look on Paige’s face when she left you without an orgasm. You could play dirty, too.

You meet eyes as Paige pulls your hair away from your face, your hands resting on her thighs. Her basketball shorts were pooled at her legs underneath her boxers, and somewhere along the hurried way down the hall, she’d pulled her shirt off, the tension in her toned stomach revealed under the dim light of your table lamp.

Your tongue slowly moves between her lips, licking and lapping up her wetness just to hum at the taste. Paige is losing it—fingers threading through your hair, the pads of her fingertips pressing deeper into your scalp at every stroke. She swears the sight of your head between her thighs is enough to bring her to release.

“Fuuuuck. Keep it like that,” she orders. You comply—let her think she’s got it under control—and she does. For a moment. Her grip tightens, guiding your head against her own clit to let you know just how she wants it. “Like this?” you tease, creating a suction. You bat your eyelashes, doe eyes catching her blue hues before they’re thrown up toward the ceiling.

“Gonna—shit.. yeah, yes. Keep goin’… don’t stop, baby.” You flatten out your tongue when she begins to move your head up and down, gruff, pleasured noises leaving her mouth in curses. She spreads her legs open even further, and the more she praises you, the deeper she pushes, the faster you move.

You’re very aware of how sensitive Paige gets after an orgasm. the number of times she’s begged you to slow down, to let her breathe for just a second, only for her to claw at you moments later, dragging you back like she can’t stand the idea of stopping. It’s a delicious contradiction, one you’ve learned to take full advantage of. It’s intoxicating, too… knowing you’re the only one who can reduce her to nothing more than trembling limbs.

“So close,” Paige mutters, her voice breaking into a groan. Her control slips with every passing second, though you aren’t sure how much of it she had in the first place. “Juuuuuust like that. Eatin’ me out so good. Always do.” She lets go with a continuous nod of her head, physically biting back a series of moans that would be too loud for the walls. You continue your onslaught, licking up what you can before pulling back. Her hips lift slightly off the bed, chasing the pressure, her legs tightening around you for a moment before falling slack again.

Right now, she’s no different—still trembling, chest heaving, the faintest sheen of sweat glistening on her skin as she tries to recover. Her hand is pressed to her forehead, covering her eyes like she’s embarrassed to let you see just how undone she is—her chest rising and falling rapidly, lips parted all pink and plump.

There’s a slight tremor in her breath when you shift closer. You trail your hand down her side slowly, eyes flickering up in search for any reaction. When you fingertips brush over her cunt—too lightly, really—Paige groans, her head lolling to the side as her fingers immediately go to grip weakly at your wrist. “Chill…” she trails off.

“Chill?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow as you press a soft kiss to her thigh. “I thought you didn’t quit easy? You bailing already?”

She lets out a breathless laugh, prepping for a quick comeback that turns into a shaky moan when your lips move lower, attaching to her clit. Lower and lower… plunging straight into her pussy. Paige jerks, her body arching involuntarily as a sharp gasp tears from her lips. “Shit—wait—” she stammers. “You gotta let me… Let me breathe, ma—“

“Mhm-mm,” you deny, pushing her hand away and dipping your own to replace your mouth. You drill into her all slow, curling just the tips of your fingers in the same way you know drives her insane.

Her head falls back against the pillow, exposing the elegant line of her throat as she swallows. “God, you’re such a… fuckin’ problem,” she breathes, her voice breaking halfway through as you glance up at her. You love it when she goes all dumb on you. “Don’t play fair,” you think you heard.

Her legs are shaking in an attempt to take what you give her, hands searching for something to grip in a last-ditch effort to ground herself. Your thumb brushes against her clit every so often, making her squirm even further away from you. “One more for me, PB,” you coo.

“Can’t—can’t…” She drips onto the bed more and more with every pump. You’re practically milking her out, splitting her open, and just like that, her release is coming quicker this time.

“You can’t what?” you egg on, hoping this’ll do it for her. You wonder how long you’ll drag your bragging out this time.

The lewd sounds of her arousal hit your ears, and you sigh in content, Paige’s body and mind becoming total mush under your service. There’s no fight left in her—the entirety of her being is begging without saying it. You know she hates that she can’t keep it together—hates that you’re in control—but it’s the thrill of it, the way her walls clench like a plead, that makes it all worth it.

Her breath hitches, and for a moment, you almost think she’s going to hold out. But then, as if that last shred of pride snaps, she does what you knew she would. Paige comes, her cunt pulsating against your fingers as she yelps, twitching every few seconds. You continue to talk her through it, working her over until her voice is as hoarse as a sore throat, raspy and wrecked.

Afterward, you move up slowly, pressing gentle, teasing kisses all over her face as your hand rests comfortably on the warmth of her stomach. “Tapping out already?” you whisper playfully, brushing a finger down the curve of her neck. “It’s okay. I get it.”

Her eyes flicker open, half-lidded and heavy. But just as quickly, the storm in her eyes shifts. Before you can get another word in, Paige’s hand moves up to stroke your cheek gently, almost…lovingly? It’s enough to throw you off, make you forget about those bragging rights. She holds your face for a moment, eyes flushed with intent. Then, without warning, she pushes you back, her brows furrowing in concentration as she pushes herself up, trodding toward your closet. With what strength?

“Strip.”

And that was exactly how you ended up here. Cowgirl, legs straddled on each side of Paige as she watched you fuck yourself on her, mumbling out a million and one different terms of endearment to kept you going. There was a receiving end, one she hadn’t thought about let alone touched, and you wondered how long she’d let you go before getting herself off too.

Second round, so close to coming, and you didn’t plan on giving Paige the satisfaction of knowing you couldn’t take it anymore.

She hadn’t took her eyes off you since you started. You avoided her gaze, hands gripping her ankles as you put on her favorite show. “Look at this pussy, baby. Fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” she praised, wetting her thumb before pressing it to your clit, hard enough to make you squirm. Your hips drove against her harder, causing them to collide in a sticky smack, the tip of her strap bullying the deepest part of you.

“So tight—shit.” Naturally, Paige’s other hand found your breasts, kneading the left before rubbing the nipple between her fingers. You winced, throwing your head back as your chest pushed further out. “Just squeezin’ around that shit,” she emphasized, voice so low it almost went unheard. She tilted her head to the side, hands roaming around to the small of your waist as your rhythmic movements escalated into frenzied bouncing, the length molding perfectly to your slick walls, stretching you to the limit.

She’d went quiet for a moment, a safe space for your moans and whimpers, pondering. “Get up,” she’d decided.

You paused, mouth agape as your chest rose and fell in gasps. “Paige—“ you tried, having had enough of this little not letting you come thing. Still, she’d tightened her hands around your hips just to throw you off her, and you quickly realized what she wanted. She didn’t have to say it. Bend over.

You perch your ass in the air as Paige settles behind you knees pressed on either side. You look just over your shoulder as she rubs the tip of her strap between your folds, head down and focused. You attempt to buck your hips back, desperately waiting to be filled up.

Paige’s eyes shoot up, and you pout playfully. “Please?”

She began to gently slide the tip into your leaking hole all at once, bottoming out. “Greedy,” she mutters, pushing down against your upper back to get you to arch more. Deep, deep, and deeper. She doesn’t start slow, rocking her hips toward your ass relentlessly, almost without any contrition.

Your hands gripped the bed frame, knuckles white, trying to ground yourself, but the tight pull in your core, the way she stretched you—nothing could keep you steady. Every thrust felt like a reminder, and as much as you wanted to give up, your ego was too damn big. This was all your idea, after all.

How the hell do you always end up here with her?

The thought crossed your mind for only a second, but it was quickly drowned out by the next wave of pleasure that hit, making you whimper. It was impossible to think straight. Her hands on your hips pushing you deeper into the mattress, your body now moving in sync with hers as though it were second nature. She’s addicting in all the right ways.

Paige’s movements stilled for a brief moment, and before you could register what was happening, she pulled you up against her chest, wrapping one hand up under your chin firmly. You locked eyes as her thumb stroked your bottom lip, prying your mouth open. She then prepared just the right amount of saliva in her mouth before spitting precisely into yours. “Mhm.”

Her thumb snuck its way in next, spreading it all over your tongue. Her brows crinkled in attentiveness. “You good?” She was genuinely concerned despite not giving you a chance to respond before she started moving again, slower this time, sensual. The intimacy was driving you fucking crazy, you needed a seatbelt.

You responded with a thorough swallow, sticking your tongue out to show her how good you were. Paige smiled—big and unattainable before pushing you back against the mattress. “Slut,” she degraded, making you giggle.

Another deep push, another moan you couldn’t hide, and you were already on the edge. Shit, not again. The thought tried to make its way through your foggy mind while your body pushing back into hers instinctively, now fully aware of how badly you wanted to come. With every movement, Paige made sure you couldn’t escape, that you wouldn’t want to. She was keeping you close, keeping you tangled in the heat of it all.

This wasn’t about winning or losing anymore. It was about feeling every inch of her, letting her pull you apart until you couldn’t even tell where you ended and she began.

Paige tugged her lip between her teeth, ramming into you like she knew she had a point to prove. “Fucking you so dumb. Makin’ such a mess… You almost there?” You nodded, followed up with a constant of yes’s that made the tight knot in your stomach even worse, even better.

The sounds of her skin slapping against yours and your loud cries of pleasure filled the bedroom. You gripped the bedsheets in preparation, the squelching of Paige driving into your soaked pussy like music. She looked down at where your bodies connected, enjoying the little squeaks you let out every time she bumped against your cervix. 

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

“You can.”

Paige took one hand from one of your thighs, using it to reach down and press her thumb against your clit, rubbing tight circles. Your back arched, a loud cry leaving your lips at the sensitivity that had been built over the course of the night. “Agh—Paige…” Thaaaat’s it, baby. C’mon. Come for me." And that's all it took for your orgasm to rip through you, your body shaking and Paige’s name leaving your lips like a mantra.

She pulled out, all five of her fingers speeding up and continuing their assault just to push you right over. You weren’t sure if she planned on stopping. Your body was squirming in different directions, begging and gasping for a break until your hand flattened against the comforter, tapping repeatedly in a form of complete and utter yield.

And just like that, your game was over.

Paige pried her hands off of you, letting your body collapse forward onto the mattress with no ounce of grace left. Your legs felt like jelly, and your breathing came in quick, shallow bursts as your chest heaved against the sheets. You couldn’t even lift your head to glare at her, too far gone to summon any shred of defiance.

Behind you, Paige shifted, catching her breath, but her voice was annoyingly steady when she spoke, dripping with smugness. “Ha,” she breathed out. “You tapped out. Like, literally.”

Your fingers curled into the sheets as you turned your face to the side, just enough to shoot a half-hearted glare over your shoulder. “Shut it,” you muttered.

But Paige wasn’t done. She scooted closer, her hand trailing lazily up your spine as her lips brushed your shoulder blade, voice teasing. “Nah, that was cute. You were all like, ‘Paige, I can’t…’” She mimicked—all exaggerated and mocking, before breaking into another quiet laugh.

You groaned, burying your face in the mattress, unable to hide the way the corner of your lips twitched upward despite yourself. “You’re so aggy.”

“And you’re lucky I love it when you quit.” Paige leaned down, planting a kiss to your damp skin before pulling back with a smirk you didn’t need to see to know was there. “I’mma let you have it next time, okay?”

…Next time?

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni Enemies to lovers with some massage therapist Bucky. Breeding kinnk, aftercare, Bucky is a secret softie, all that.

Imagine Rival Biker Bucky x f reader. A smutty, slutty little concept while I add the finishing touches to another fic, just getting this out of my system first. I just love the idea of a sexy, bad boy Bucky getting his hands on the one girl who won't give him a second glance because she's too good for him and they're from opposite worlds. Since childhood. Now he's a biker. Covered in black ink. He works in an auto shop. Owns the bar that brings in chaos. He's smoke, whiskey and leather.

She, however, is soft, pretty, smart and does not have the time to entertain someone like him. She has her degree. Working on a second. She has a career. She does not associate with the likes of him, not as the police chiefs daughter. She'll be damned if she has to even breathe the same air, especially when his gang is the cause for half the problems in the town that her father has been trying to get rid of.

Now, imagine that hours of working on her notes and papers leave her with unbearable knots and kninks in her back. She doesn't want to take a break but the pain only gets worse as the week goes by. It doesn't take long for her to shoot her regular massage therapist a message to book the very first available appointment.

-

You unclasped your bra, folding and setting it off to the side while waiting for Wanda in the warmly lit room. You could have sworn she was a witch with the way she made pain disappear; she’d also become a good friend after your many visits.

The knock at the door interrupted you as you slid your shorts off, leaving you in your panties, not rushing to jump onto the table considering it was just Wanda anyway.

“Come in!” You smiled, making your way to the massage bed as the door clicked open- “Oh my God!!” You nearly shrieked seeing Bucky walk in, a shit eating from spreading across his face as you scrambled to grab the tiny towel to cover yourself though it was a futile attempt. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

"You have an appointment, don't you?" He quirked an eyebrow as if it was clear as day why he was there.

"Yeah, with Wanda, why are you here, did you get lost on the way to jail?" Your face scrunched in a mix of confusion and disgust ignoring the roll of his eyes while you snatched your shirt to better cover up.

"Well Wanda couldn't make it in but she sent me" He said with a shrug, sighing when he saw your less than impressed face, "Don't flatter yourself, I'm just training under her as part of my physiotherapy internship"

"I'm sorry, you're trying to tell me you of all people are learning how to give massages? Please"

"Physiotherapy" Bucky corrected, "You're not the only one who has a degree, princess" Bucky watched as you groaned realizing you hadn't put your bra on, opting to stuff it in your bag instead of putting it back on in front of him.

"You are NOT laying a finger on me-ow!" You hissed, feeling the knot in your back tug at the rest of your muscles.

"You're not gonna be able to do a whole lot with that much pain" Bucky smirked, only half joking. He wasn't wrong. The pain was worse than before and you needed this an you really didn't have the time to reschedule.

"Fine" You mumbled, turning away from him so you could take your shirt off again, glaring at him when you noticed he hadn't turned away. "Could you at least give me some privacy instead of lurking in the corner like a pervert"

"Whatever you want, princess" He bit his lip as he faced the wall, hearing your feet pad across the tile to lay down on the massage table.

"Alright" You huffed after covering your lower body with the towel, now laying face down, immediately second guessing yourself as he walked over.

"Let me know if anything's uncomfortable or if you want me to stop" His voice was no longer snarky; in fact he sounded professional. "Where do you feel the most tension?"

"Um-shoulders and-lower back" You mumbled out the last bit, he was going to massage you there anyway so there so no pointed hiding it. You tensed at the feeling of his oiled fingers starting to work at your muscles, he had no right to be that good. At all.

“Shit” you hissed trying to keep your voice down, ignoring the clench of your stomach feeling his rough fingers press down on the areas that were tight. Little did you know Bucky was struggling far more than you were.

It went against every bit of professionalism he had. Every moan you tried to silence went right to his cock, his hands making their way lower before trailing up again. Fuck, you sounded so pretty...

"Better stop making those sounds"

"Or what" You challenged back before you could even stop yourself.

"Princess..."

"Your attitude is what needs fixing" Bucky growled, professionalism be damned, "fuck this"

-

You have no idea how you ended up here. It didn't matter though, not when there wasn't a single cohesive thought in your brain as you wailed letting Bucky absolutely rail you. Your back didn't feel an ounce of pain as he took you on all fours, pulling your hips to slam back against him, gripping your ass with enough strength to leave you sore.

"Feel better now huh baby, not trying to stay quiet anymore, are ya" He let out a low chuckle which melted into a groan feeling you tighten on his dick, "Such a good little princess like you letting me put my dick in you, dirty girl"

You hate to admit it but the clench of your cunt betrays how much you love this. It was so wrong. You had no business fucking someone like him and yet where you were letting his precum paint all over the inside of your walls.

"What would your daddy say princess, if he knew where you were right now, what you were doin'? Thinking you're studying when you're actually all pretty and naked, letting me rub that gorgeous body up and down, bet you'd let me put my cum in you too, huh? Bet your dad would love that, his perfect little girl all knocked up with some bikers baby"

You could have said no, stayed silence, just about anything but nope. You screamed feeling his fingers reach around the massage your clit, your orgasm wasting no time hurling towards you.

"Ja-Ja-JAMESSS"

"MMMPHH I love the sound of that baby, could get used to hearing you sayin' my name, say it again princess, say my name with my cock in you, c'mon, that's it"

"Fuck-James-I-James" You were a mess and loving every bit of it, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, all the pent up stress you were feeling finally releasing. You felt your throat tighten, a sob escaping your lips as you let go, your arousal making a creamy mess on the dark curly hair on the base of his cock.

"God, you're milkin me, you want my cum that bad huh baby, want a little biker baby in that tummy of yours, I'll give it to you, give you so much I might even put twins in there-FUCKK"

-

"Shhhh" Bucky cooed, wrapping you up in a fluffy towel while cuddling up your limp body, wiping away any remnants of tears while you stayed floating in a subby, post sex haze. "I got you, you did so good princess" You only manage to let out a weak whimper, giving into his warm, thick arms that rock you.

"You alright angel?"

"Mph" you mumble against his chest and he reaches over for a glass of water that's nearby, bringing it up for you to take a sip. You're surprised at how sweet he's being, drinking up before snuggling into him again. Damn him for being so warm and comfy.

"Y'know, there might be a little Bucky in there" He whispers with a playful smirk in his voice, fingers tickling your lower belly, chuckling when you narrow your eyes at him.

"You wish" You sass back, ignoring the butterflies you feel.

"I do" He admits, biting his lip, his previous cocky demeanor replaced with a shy one, though he tries to mask it. Poorly. His cheeks are pinker than the time you threw paint on him for pulling your pigtails. When you were both 4. "I'd want Bucky jr. to have your brains though"

Imagine that incident sets off a very interesting chain of events. A confession of feelings. You both couldn't be happier, meanwhile your father is grumbling about how he knew this fuckin' day would come, God damn it.

"I never liked that boy" He struggles to keep a scowl on his face watching you giggle like you were 4 again, running to the door as soon as you hear the rumble of his bike.

"Shut up, you love him" Your mom chides, watching Bucky swoop you up for a loving kiss, heading you a bouquet of yellow flowers as he always does.

-

"I still don't like 'em" Your dad says while you roll your eyes, your arm linked with his as he walks you down the aisle.

"Is that why all the files you had to build a case against him all suddenly went missing?" You tease and your dad shugs.

"Wasn't me"

-

just an idea.

[simjaexy]

𝙊𝙪𝙧 𝙇𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙎.𝙅

pairing — professor! sim jaeyun x (f) student! reader

synopsis — you always knew your professor was attractive, so it wasn’t new when girls would try to gain his attention. what you didn’t know though was that he only had his eyes on you. what comes as a friendly teacher-student relationship takes a turn when you find yourself thinking differently about him with your private lessons together.

genre — smut, angst

warnings — MINORS DNI!, lower case intended, four year age gap (jake is 22 and reader is 18), tons of jealousy, cursing, jake is obsessed with oblivious reader, dom! jaeyun x sub! reader, name calling (slut, whore, and etc.), (f) receiving, pussy eating, unprotected sex, cum eating, choking, multiple orgasms

w.c ⇀ 5.4k

a/n ⇀ i don’t know why but this was and on and off fic i was doing cause i didn’t really like but i’m glad i finally finished it. i can’t tell if this was good or not because i was stressing on how to put the ending so bear with me on that. reblog, like, comment, etc.! lmk if i missed any warnings! not proofread.

masterlist here

the first time you saw professor sim was during the orientation week. you were a freshman, nervous and excited about starting your journey in college. the campus was bustling with activity, and you were trying to find your way to the science building for your first lecture.

as you walked through the crowded hallway, you accidentally bumped into someone, "oh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, looking up to see a tall man with a kind smile.

"no worries at all," he replied, adjusting his glasses. "are you lost?"

"uh, yeah, actually. I'm trying to find the science building," you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"you're in luck. I'm heading there myself. i’m professor sim, by the way," he said, extending his hand.

you shook his hand, feeling a bit more at ease. "nice to meet you, professor sim. i’m l/n y/n.”

"well, y/n, follow me. i'll show you the way," he said, leading you through the maze of hallways. as you walked, you noticed his broad back through his suit. the suit fitting perfectly on him. you blushed watching him strut confidently past students and teachers watching him walk past.

you definitely won’t lie and say he’s not handsome. his glasses framing his face perfectly. you never knew you would like guys with glasses. he suddenly asked about your interests and what drew you to study science. his genuine interest in your answers made you feel welcome.

fast forward to the present, you were now in your second semester, and professor sim class had quickly become your favorite. his enthusiasm for science was infectious, and he had a knack for making even the most complex topics seem approachable. however, the latest homework assignment was proving to be a real challenge.

as you packed your notebooks and computer you saw a girl bluntly flirting with him. batting her eyelashes at him. it wasn’t new seeing different girls trying to talk to him, purposely saying they need help just to see him up close. you cleared your throat you gathered your courage and approached his desk. "professor sim, could I ask for some help with the homework? i’m really struggling with the concepts."

he looked up at you, a warm smile spreading across his face, completely ignoring the other girl in front of him. he probably knew what she was trying to do, "of course, i'd be happy to help. why don't you come by my office later this afternoon?"

the girl huffed at her non existence and walked away, leaving the both of you alone. you nodded, feeling a wave of relief.

later that day, you found yourself sitting across from him in his office. the room was filled with books and scientific models, and the faint smell of coffee lingered in the air.

"alright," he said, pulling up a chair next to you, "let's take a look at what you're having trouble with."

you pulled out your notebook, showing him the problems that had been giving you headaches. he patiently explained each step, breaking down the complex ideas into simpler terms. his explanations were clear and concise, and he used analogies that made the material more relatable.

"see? you're getting the hang of it," he encouraged, his eyes twinkling with pride. "sometimes all it takes is a different perspective."

as you worked through the problems together, you found yourself gaining a deeper understanding of the subject. you also couldn’t help but look at his side profile, his plump soft lips moving with passion for science was evident in every word he spoke, and it was impossible not to be inspired by his enthusiasm.

"thank you so much, professor jake," you said sincerely as you packed up your things. "i really appreciate your help."

"anytime, y/n. don't hesitate to reach out if you need more assistance," he replied with a smile.

you gave him another smile. you left his office feeling more confident and grateful for his guidance. professor sim had not only made the subject more accessible but had also shown you that with the right support, you could tackle even the toughest challenges.

over the next few weeks, you continued to visit his office for help, and each time, you left with a better understanding of the material. his encouragement and patience made all the difference, and you began to see science in a whole new light.

even though you guys only talked about science and just science, you couldn’t help but notice when sim would ask you questions outside of science. like ‘what do you think about your teachers?’ or ‘who’s your favorite teacher so far?’, and each time he’d ask, you would always say him.

one afternoon, as you were wrapping up another productive session, he asked, "so, y/n, have you thought about what you want to do after college?"

you paused, considering his question. it was new for him to ask that, "i'm not entirely sure yet. i know i want to do something in science, but I haven't decided on a specific path."

"that's perfectly fine," he said reassuringly. "you have plenty of time to figure it out. just remember to follow your passion and stay curious. the rest will fall into place."

you smiled, feeling a sense of reassurance, “thank you professor sim. i really appreciate that.”

you watch him push his hair back with a smile. you felt your heart skip a beat and immediately looked away, “i-i think i should get going. it’s getting pretty late.”

“you don’t need a ride do you? it’s pretty dark out since we practiced a bit longer than usual.” he reasoned. you thought for a moment. it is dark out and you don’t know who’s outside at this time. so, you nodded your head.

“great. i’ll tidy up before we go.” he said. you watched him put a few books away and tidying up his desk for tomorrow before grabbing his keys from his drawer. he then walked you to the door.

you both left the college and went to the parking lot. you felt yourself feeling nervous. it was your first time going with sim anywhere but his class. he went to a mercedes car making you hum in acknowledgement.

he chuckled at your reaction, “like it?” he teased. you nodded your head and giggled.

“i don’t really know cars that well, but i just know this one is expensive.” you said. his laugh causing a stir in your stomach.

you both entered the car and buckled up. he backed from the parking lot, “do you live on campus or somewhere else?” he asked.

“i live on campus, but the other one.” you spoke.

“you live pretty far? you walk here?” he murmured. he gazed at you curiously.

you chuckled, “it’s a good walk. i wake up a bit earlier so i’m not late for your class.”

he smiled at you, “if i would’ve known you go that far i’d spare you.” you shook your head and smiled back.

the car ride was silent, you let out a sigh and lay your head on the window. the past few days you haven’t been getting much sleep. you felt your eyes get a bit heavy.

“tired?” sim questioned. you opened your eyes back up and nodded.

“a little. sorry, haven’t really got much sleep. i’ve been so stressed out that i couldn’t sleep.” you joked, but it wasn’t really a joke.

sim hummed, he understood how tiring college could be, “you can take a nap. i mean if you want too. i’ll wake you up when we’re at the campus.” he said.

you smiled gratefully. soon your eyes became heavy and that’s when you fell asleep. your soft breathing soon filling the silence.

jake looked at your sleeping figure. you really were the prettiest student he’s ever seen. he knows it’s wrong to think of you like that. you’re supposed to be just a student to him, but he can’t help but think of something more.

your smile that makes him feel a type of way inside. your pretty laugh that he can’t help but adore. those thoughts were just something he thought weren’t bad, but his other thoughts were a bit more mature.

the way your outfits fit your body perfectly. your breast sitting perfectly in your bra, jiggling when you walk towards him. it’s hard for him not to get rock hard and stare. your fingers so pretty to him that he wonders if they're just as pretty inside your pussy. your glossy lips so pretty when they pout, he wonders what they would feel like around his dick. he just knows they’d stretch so pretty.

he soon parks the car in front of the campus. he shakes you softly, “y/n. we’re here.”

you groaned and turned away from him. he tried shaking you awake again, but you didn’t budge. he sighed and looked around. maybe he could just pick you up and take you to your dorm. that wouldn’t be weird right?

he got off his car and went to your side, opening the car door. he grabbed your backpack and slung it over his shoulder. he unbuckled your seatbelt and picked you up swiftly. he was hoping no one was awake at this time. he opened the door with his free hand and entered the building.

as soon as he unlocked your door he set you down on your bed with your bag on the chair. he couldn’t help but curiously look around. your room filled with collage photos of you and your friends. there was a photo of you and your parents. he slowly picked up the photo and smiled. you looked happy unlike the times you were in the halls.

he set it back down and was about to head out until he heard you making a noise, “sim please. down there.” you moaned out.

jake paused his walking and looked back at you. you were still sleeping, but your breathing started to become uneven and heavy. wait, were you having a dream about him?

he slowly prodded towards you and slightly shook you. you really were a deep sleeper. just then you let out another noise. it sounded like a whimper.

“fuck me sim.” you whispered.

what. the. fuck.

jake nearly choked on his spit. there was no way you talk this clearly in your sleep. were you joking with him? his breathing became unsteady with the uncomfortable feeling between his legs. he cursed at himself for still standing here and quickly left. locking the door on the way out.

he would just pretend he never heard you.

he couldn’t pretend. the whole day he was thinking about what you said last night. with him having to solve his little problem himself. you acted normally the way you did. you remembered he took you back to your campus cause you thanked him first thing when you saw him. if only he didn’t make it seem awkward.

you on the other hand was confused why professor sim was acting strange. were you snoring really loud in his car? you really hoped you didn’t.

as class came to an end, you packed your stuff. as you were packing you couldn’t help but look over at professor sim. your eyes went wide when you saw him talking to another female teacher. you didn’t even notice she came in.

they seem to be chatting about something funny cause sim was laughing a lot to what she was saying. you felt a weird feeling in your chest that you couldn’t describes. was it jealousy?

you sighed and put your bag over your shoulder and left the class without sparing another look. as you were walking you suddenly heard your name being called. you turn around expecting a specific person, but you saw that it was riki.

you gave him a fake smile, “hey riki.” you said. riki smiled once he caught up to you.

“are you okay? i tried texting you last night but you didn’t answer.” he asked. you pushed your hair behind your ear suddenly remembering last night again.

“o-oh i came home pretty early and fell asleep. did you need to talk about something?” you spoke.

riki nodded, “actually i was gonna talk to you about the project-“ “y/n.”

your eyebrows furrowed and looked behind riki, only to see none other than professor sim. he came closer to you guys, “you guys should head to class or you’ll be late, especially you mr. nishimura.”

the tone in professor sim kinda intimidated you. his voice bitter and sharp towards riki. riki nervously nodded his head and gave you a tight smile before walking past you. you looked at professor sim only to see him looking at you.

“did you need something professor sim?” you mumbled, feeling small under his strong gaze.

“don’t waste your time talking to guys and focus on your classes.” he suddenly said. his voice coming more harsh than he intended. your eyebrows furrowed felling a bit offended.

“excuse me?” you said “you should know i don’t waste my time on guys. riki isn’t just any guy, he’s my friend.”

before jake could say something you walked away. jake sighed and pushed his hair back. he didn’t mean to come out like that. he couldn’t shake that feeling of jealousy when he saw how close riki was to you. he’d have to apologize later.

you sighed when your last class finally finished. you were supposed to have your tutoring lesson with sim, but after that incident you don’t think you could go. you’ll just email him saying you’re sick. you left the college and walked to your campus.

you listened to a few playlists while walking. the cool breeze with the sunny sky made you feel relaxed. once you came to your campus you said hi to the lady up front and went to your room. you set your bag on the floor and sighed. a shower sounds good. before you went in the shower you emailed sim about your canc and shut your computer.

you took a quick shower and finished up. you wrapped a robe around your body and dried your hair with a towel, but before you could grab your phone you heard a knock at your door. you frowned, nobody barely knocks on your door, so who could it be. you opened the door and your eyes widened in surprise. it was sim.

“professor sim? what are you-“ “are you that mad at me?” he cut you off. you closed your mouth. is that why he came all the way here?

“professor sim im not mad-“ “so why are you ignoring me?” he said. you didn’t know it mattered that much to him.

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to cancel last minute.” you said. maybe that’s why he was upset. he doesn’t like when people cancel stuff last minute. he shook his head.

“i’m not mad if that’s what you’re thinking. i’m asking if you’re mad about what i did earlier.” he admitted. oh. that’s what he was talking about. to be honest you don’t know if you were really mad anymore. so, you shook your head.

“it’s okay. i’m sorry for being rude.” you muttered.

“i should say sorry too. i know you don’t do any of those things. i was just in a bad mood.” he said. was he really in a bad mood if he was talking to that female teacher happily?

you gave him a fake smile, “it’s okay professor sim. was that all you came here for.”

just as he was about to say something, he averted his gaze down and noticed you were in a robe. he felt his face burning and looked back up at you, “o-oh i’m sorry. did i interrupt your bathing time?” he stuttered.

“huh?”

you looked down and also noticed you were still in your robe. you gasped and moved the door in front of you, “i’m sorry!”

he tried shaking his head, but you just kept apologizing, “no it’s fine really! it’s my fault.”

you stopped apologizing and stared at him, awkwardness filling the air. he cleared his throat and looked back at you, “i-i’ll get going-“

“wait. i know this might sound weird, but do you wanna come in for a moment? we can do the lesson here if you're still up for it.” you thought. jake pondered for a moment before nodding.

you got done getting dress in your bathroom and came out. you saw sim sitting on the floor with textbooks on the wooden table you had in the middle of your room. he was looking around your room before staring at you.

you smiled at him and sat next to him, “we can start where we left off yesterday if that’s fine.” you said. he nodded and flipped the page to where you guys left off.

as you he taught you easy ways to get the answer, you felt yourself getting distracted once again by his visuals. you didn’t know what you were feeling at this point, it was a feeling you hated, but wanted to know more about. all of a sudden sim looked at you. you felt your breath get caught in your throat. he was staring at you with a questionable linger in his eyes. you felt his breath against your face. you guys were so close that if you moved a step your lips would touch.

“sim-“ “push me away if you don’t want this.” was all he said when you suddenly felt lips on yours.

you gasped and held tightly on his shirt. his lips molding against yours perfectly. you moaned when you felt his hand grip your ass, making him have access to enter his tongue. you felt your room getting hot as you lay on the ground with sim on top of you.

you took off his jacket while he helped you take it off without breaking the kiss. the dim lighting of your fairy lights making it seem darker than usual. he took off your shorts, only leaving your underwear on. he kissed and sucked along your jawline to your chest, kissing it gently. the sexual tension you guys had finally snapping in him. he lifted your shirt up and unclasped your bra. you felt the cold air hit your nipples and made a noise.

he smirked against your chest before gripping one breast and sucking the other. you let out a moan and gripped his locks. he groaned and pinched your nipple making you jerk.

“sim.” you whimpered. he looked up at you and departed from your breast.

he started unbuttoning his long sleeve button up, “call me jake.” he said. you bit your lip when you finally saw his toned body. god if you would’ve known he had that body under his suit you would’ve made a move sooner.

he leaned back down and kissed you gently, biting your lip making you sigh. you felt his right hand slowly going down until it made contact with your cloth pussy. you threw your head back when you suddenly felt him rub your folds up and down.

he dipped his hand in a second later and confused rubbing your folds, “fuck you’re so wet.” he murmured.

you nodded and kissed him again. both of your lips swollen. you wouldn’t want it any other way though. he took his fingers away and put them in his mouth. you watched intensely as he smirked at you. he got up and lifted you up bridal style before putting you on your bed. he unbuckled his pants and pulled them down revealing his boxers.

you gasp at the outline of his dick. you know it’s big. he got on top of you again and slid down your underwear. you felt yourself blushing with how he stared. you felt the urge to close your legs but before you could jake dipped his head down to your pussy.

“j-jake wait.” you moaned when you suddenly felt his hot tongue lick your folds.

he groaned as you gripped his hair again. he licked your folds again but this time he sucked on your clit. you thrash around at the new feeling as your eyes rolled back.

the sound of wet slurping noises was the only thing heard in your room. jake couldn’t get enough of your pussy. he was a completely pussy drunk man at this moment. your sweet juices leaking out, he knows you love it just as much as he does.

you felt a tight feeling in your pussy and patted his head, “j-jake m’gonna cum!” you cried out. he didn’t stop making you feel your climax coming. you let out one last moan before your orgasm finally hit. your legs shaking on the side of his head. he drummed up your cum like he was a dehydrated man.

you panted harshly and whined when he finally pulled away. he licked the rest on his chin, “fuck, you taste so good.” he says. he pulls his boxers down and that’s when you finally saw his dick. it was veiny and hard, precum at the tip.

“do you need to be prepped?” he said. you shook your head. you needed his dick in you now.

he positioned himself at your entrance before slowly pushing in. he groaned while you whimpered and held him tightly. he hissed when he felt you scratching at his back. slowly, he backed up and pushed back in so you could get used to the feeling.

a few minutes later you felt a pleasure tingling in your body, “j-jake faster. please.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. he started going at a faster pace and that’s when you were out of it. his tip hitting your g-spot.

“yes! right there! oh fuck!” you cried out. the sound of skin slapping, panting, and bed creaking was heard. you had a feeling people could hear you, but you could care less. especially with the way jake was fucking you.

he gripped your neck with a free hand, “such a little whore for dick. gonna be a good bitch for me?” he rasped out. you nodded your head frantically.

he felt you squeeze his dick and moaned. your pussy was a match made in heaven just for him.

you felt another orgasm coming and arched your back. he gripped your hips and snapped his hips harder. your orgasm hit you hard and you saw white. jake snapped his hips three more times before pulling his dick out, stroking himself on your stomach before cumming.

both of you panted uneven and hard. he got off your bed and grabbed the towel you used for your hair and wiped your stomach and wiped your pussy. you whined from sensitivity.

he grabbed another pair of pajamas for you and helped your put them on.

he put the towel in your dirty basket and went back to you, pushing your hair back, “i should get going.” he said.

you pouted, “do you have to leave?”

jake hated that he did, but he can’t get caught with his own student, “it’s for the better. you’ll see me tomorrow.”

you finally nodded your head. he covered you with your blanket and kissed your head, “goodnight beautiful.” he whispered. you soon dozed off into dreamland.

jake got dressed and looked at you one last time before shutting your door with a soft click.

you groaned feeling an ach in your body. you got up and went to your bathroom. you looked at yourself in the mirror and gasped. your neck was covered in hickeys from your neck to your chest. you traced your fingers along them and slowly smiled.

you took another shower and got dressed for the day. you out on a crew neck to cover your hickeys. good thing it was cold out today.

you soon got to the campus and entered your class to see jake already there typing on his computer. he didn’t notice you so you decided to sit down at your seat. once the bell ring he looked up from his computer and spotted you. he gave you a knowing grin before standing up, getting ready for the lecture.

“alright guys, did you finish the homework from yesterday?” he chimed. students began taking out their notes and handed them in. you turned yours in too. jake continued his lecture until the bell rang. students left the class while you waited until everyone left.

you went up to his desk and gave him a smile. he got up and gave you a hug. you giggled and stuffed your face in his neck.

“your not hurt anywhere are you?” he asked. you shook your head. he sighed in relief before letting you go.

“same time at my place?” you said. jake chuckled and quickly pecked your lips.

“i can’t today. i have a meeting to attend.” he spoke. you pouted, but understood.

“okay. i’ll see you later though right?” you said. he chuckled at your urgent question and nodded.

“of course you will beautiful.” he replied. you smiled cheerfully before leaving his class so he could attend his meeting.

over the next few days it would be the same. jake would come over to your dorm and would spend time with you, either having loving sex or just spending time together. everything was going just the way you wanted it too. until an incident happened.

rumors started to spread around campus. whispers of favoritism and inappropriate relationships between you and professor sim filled the halls. despite your best efforts to ignore them, the pressure was mounting.

one evening, after a particularly stressful day, jake asked to meet you in his office.

you opened the door to his office to see him already there in deep thought. you let out a gulp before going towards him, “jake?”

he looked up at you, but it wasn’t with the same loving look he usually gave you. “y/n, we need to talk," he began, his voice heavy with emotion. "i think we should stop what we’re doing. what we had was nothing but satisfaction we wanted to get off our chests.”

your heart sank, where was he coming from with this? satisfaction? getting it off our chest? you couldn’t help but feel tears pricking your eyes, “w-what do you mean? don’t you love me?”

jake stared at you as if you were just a regular person to him, “y/n, what we had wasn’t love. you were just a way to relive my stress. whatever you thought we had ends here. you may be dismissed.”

the lack of emotions in his voice finally made your tears fall freely.

you let out a sob, “i hate you! don’t ever talk to me again!” you screamed out before leaving his room, slamming the door shut.

weeks went by, and the pain of the breakup lingered. you threw yourself into your studies, trying to keep your mind off jake. even though you had him first period and he was your professor, you made a good route on ignoring him. none of it was easy, but you found solace in your friend, riki, who had always been there for you. his presence was comforting, and slowly, you began to smile again.

“are you gonna have that?” riki asked. you rolled your eyes at him before smiling. you gave him your cookie which he happily accepted.

you both were currently waiting at a bus station. after riki found out you walk a long way to the college, he insisted on paying for your bus rides as long as he gets to go with you.

“it’s way too cold out today.” you commented. riki nodded his head as he munched on the cookie. you shivered when a gust of wind blew at you guys. riki noticed your freezing state.

“come closer to me.” he said. you scooted a bit closer to him and lay your head on his shoulder. you sighed at somewhat of a closer warm feeling. as you guys continued waiting you saw a familiar car stopping in front of you guys. your eyes widened when the driver door suddenly opened revealing jake.

before you could think, jake yanked your wrist and pulled you away from riki. you yelped and tried taking your wrist away from him.

“what the hell are you doing?” you snapped at him. riki got up and tried to help you but jake stopped him.

“get the hell away or you’ll regret it.” he gritted his teeth. riki stopped and looked at you worriedly. you shook your head at him not to come any further. jake took you to his car, opening the passenger door and setting you inside. he slammed it shut before going to the drivers seat and entering.

you silently watched him start the car, leaving riki in the cold. you felt guilty and angry and looked at jake, “let me go jake! i wanna be with riki!” you yelled.

jake ignored you. you scoffed, “jake seriously. let me go!”

“stop talking or i’ll find a way to make you.” he said. you immediately stopped ranting and stared at him. you decided to stay silent. you knew you couldn’t fight him when it came to this.

in all honesty jake never felt so jealous before until now. you were so close to riki that something inside him snapped. at first he was gonna let it go since he’s the one that initiated the end to your relationship, but he saw a spark in your eyes that he hadn't seen in a while.

a pang of regret hit him hard. he realized that letting you go was a mistake. the rumors and the pressure seemed insignificant compared to the happiness he saw in your eyes.

you arrived at a building. you assumed it was an apartment building. jake opened your door when he came out. you stepped out when he grabbed your wrist and took you inside.

when you finally got to a room he unlocked it with a pin and entered it. the first thing you saw was shelves lined with scientific journals and textbooks, a whiteboard covered in equations and diagrams, but amidst all the science, there was also a comfy reading nook with a big, plush armchair and a collection of classic novels. you noticed how he had a nice window view of the city night. now that you thought of it, it was your first time at his place.

“you can take your jacket off.” he said. slowly, you took off your jacket. he grabbed it and settled it on a rack.

you stood there awkwardly and waited for his next move. he extended his hand out for you to grab. you took it as he walked you to the couch, “i’ll go get us some drinks.”

you sat down on the couch and waited. you didn’t know what to talk about to him. he came back with a drink and handed it to you. you grabbed it and took a small sip. he sat down next to you and that’s when he made he contact with you, but this time he had that same old look he gave you back then.

"y/n, I made a mistake," he confessed. "seeing you with riki made me realize how much i miss you. i thought i was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. can you ever forgive me?"

you took a deep breath, the memories of your time together flooding back. you wanted to just drop everything and forgive him, but you knew it’s best to face reality.

“professor sim-“ “jake.” he cut you off.

you sighed, “jake, i forgive you, but i don’t think we can go back to the way it was. what you said really did hurt me that i couldn’t even eat or sleep. i don’t wanna go that same route again.”

jake looked at you regretfully. you just wanted to hug him and hold him forever. he stared down, “i understand. i don’t blame you at all. i really did fuck it up cause i was a coward.” he admitted.

“you’re not a coward jake. you just didn’t wanna lose your job.”

“but i lost you instead.” he said. now it was your turn to stare down. jake slowly lifted your head up with his hand under your chin.

"I promise y/n, i’ll do anything to get you back." he promised.

you gave him a smile. you know it’ll take time to work things out, but you knew if you did it together, nothing would stop you guys from being with each other. so, you cupped your hand on his and gave him a reassuring smile.

“i’m counting you on that sim jake. and if you do get me back, it can be our little secret.”

[thebearer]

in your eyes, the man that i could be |carmen berzatto x reader| part two

prompt: after carmen finds out you're staying at pete and sugar's house, he goes to try and talk to you. he's faced with his furious sister and harsh truths instead.

or part two of the devastation fic lol that is based off this ask from the other day <3

contains: angst! angst! this one is very much so more carmen focused bc let's be real... he's the problem in this one lol. still hurt with no comfort but more this one than last one?? mentions to past trauma, family trauma. sugar clears carmen in this one. slight mean carmen still, slight angry carmen still. language. dad!carmen x mom!reader. no resolution but the make up is in the next and final part! still heavy so read at your own discretion! word count- 4.8k+

Fak twisted his hands, nervously watching Carmen pace back and forth furiously. One hand running through his hair, tangled and matted from the continued motion; the other lifting and pulling the cigarette to and from his lips. Fak wasn’t sure how Carmen wasn’t sick yet. He’d never seen him smoke so much, seen anyone smoke so much. 

“Neil, I’m not fuckin’ playin’ anymore, ok? You’re startin’ to really, really fuckin’ piss me off.” Carmen’s jaw ground tight, voice starting to growl with that gravelly warning shake that had Fak flinching. “You better tell me where you put my fuckin’ car keys, alright? I-I’m not sitting here, ok? I’m not gonna sit around wi-with my fuckin’ thumb up my ass like a jagoff while my wife and kid are a-at fuckin’ Sugar and Pete’s!” 

“Carmy,” Fak tried to keep his voice calm and firm, like Sugar and Richie had coached him to, hyping him up before he entered the house. “I can’t give you your keys right now, becaus-” 

“-Oh, fuck you! Fuck you! Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?” Carmen roared, teeth bared and eyes narrowed. 

Fak didn’t think he’d ever say it, but he missed the sad Carmen from before. When he’d been sent to check on Carmen and Richie, to find out where the hell they were before Sydney had a meltdown in the kitchen, only to find a nearly hyperventilating Carmen and an unsure and frantic Richie trying to calm him. Fak had known Carmen a long time, his whole life, really, and never once had he seen him so… so sad. 

That sadness was long gone now. In its wake, an anger, worse than before, than he’d ever seen or could have imagined. Fak had just tried to comfort Carmen, offer up some encouragement that you and Teddy and Anchovy were all ok, taken care of- at Pete and Sugar’s. He didn’t realize how that would flip the switch, how it would infuriate Carmen. 

“I-I’m Fak.” Fak blinked, nervously. “You know me. I’m your friend, Carm, and I-I’m just trying to help you-” 

“-You’re trying to help me? You’re trying to fuckin’ help me by keepin’ me away from my wife?” Carmen’s voice boomed, shaking the walls of the house. 

Even in his loud rage, the house seemed too quiet, too still. There was no baby TV show on, no hum of the diffusers, or Anchovy’s small purrs and chirps. Carmen missed him, missed him jumping on the counters just to piss him off. He missed you defending him, missed how Anchovy would startle and run anytime Teddy would gurgle or whine. 

God, he missed Teddy. He spent the first night in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair, staring blankly ahead, wishing he had the small screaming bundle to rock to sleep. 

Carmen couldn’t bring himself to go into the bedroom. Not again. Not after he found your ring laying there. He’d scared Richie so badly with his cries that Richie had enforced the ‘Mikey Prevention Plan’, his twisted humor of a way at keeping Carmen from being alone, from hurting himself in his misery. 

“Carm, I-I can’t.” Fak stuttered, looking at the door, begging Richie or anyone, really, to walk through the door. “You know I can’t.” 

“This is fucked up, Neil. You know that? You know how fucked up this is? Keepin’ me from-from Teddy? From my kid?” Carmen took a long drag of the cigarette, smoke blowing out of his nose with his panicked breathing. His hands still shook, everything was still shaky and rattling with uneasiness inside him. 

“Carm, I- Don’t say that.” Fak shook his head, he could feel himself caving. Carmen could too. 

“You’re keepin’ me from her, Fak. You know that? You know you-you’re keepin’ me from my daughter? My baby? Don’t you-you know how fucked up that is?” Carmen shook his head, lips pursing in disgust. “You’re lettin’ Richie boss you around like he always does, an-and you know, you know deep down that this is wrong. Keepin’ me from them is wrong.” 

Fak hesitated, a nervous sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. “Richie said-” 

“-Richie can get fucked. Ric-Richie doesn’t know shit! He doesn’t know shit, you know he doesn’t know shit, a-and you’re lettin’ him tell you what to do? Richie?” Carmen scoffed, throwing his hands out. “The fuck does Richie know, huh? H-He’s divorced, an-an-and barely sees his kid-” 

“-Hey!-” Fak’s eyes widened in shock. “Carmen, you don’t-” 

“-Is that what you want? You want me to end up alone?” Carmen’s eyes are wild, crazed, but he goes still. “Y-You want me to end up like-like Richie? Li-Li-Like that?” 

Fak swallows, both standing in the thick, tension filled silence. “Carmen, I-I can’t.” Fak shook his head slowly. “I don’t… I think you need to, I don’t know, I think you need to calm down before you go see them.” 

“Calm down, you’re tellin’ me to calm down.” Carmen snarled, bitterly scoffing at Fak. “Fuck you. Alright? Fuck you. I will never forgive you for this shit. You hear me? You-You doin’ this to me, keepin’ me from my family. I’ll never fuckin’ forgive you.” 

Fak flinched, Carmen’s words cutting brutally through him with a bitter sting. Carmen stormed off, the front door slamming with a force that sent vibrations through the house. Fak was surprised it didn’t split the wood in two. Walking towards the front window, he saw Carmen storming off, furiously lighting another cigarette, running a hand through his hair, again. Fak assumed he was out of Spirits, that he’d smoked through another pack, walking to the corner store to get more. After thirty minutes, he called Richie, frantic that he’d let Carmen loose. 

“What part of Mikey Prevention Plan don’t you fuckin’ understand?” Richie sneered over the phone, trying to keep his voice low so the new hires didn’t hear. As far as they were concerned, Carmen was on a vacation, only the OGs knew the truth. 

“I-I didn’t mean to! I swear!” Fak’s voice lilted high, a shrill of nerves that had Richie’s eyes pinching in annoyance. “I thought he was going to the corner store to get more cigarettes, an-and then he didn’t come back for a while-” 

“-What’s a while?” Richie muttered, catching Tina’s eye through the glass. She set her rag down quickly, walking towards him. 

“I dunno… Fifteen, thirty minutes?” Fak mumbled. “Maybe closer to an hour now. B-But then I went to look for him, and he wasn’t there, so I asked the guy working and he said he hadn’t seen him, and-and now I’m driving around trying to find him. I-I’m shouting his name out the window and everything!” 

“He’s not a dog, Neil, he won’t-” Richie huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know where he’s at.” 

“You do?” Fak perked up. 

“Yeah, I mean, no, but I-I’m pretty sure I know where he’s at since you fuckin’ told him where they were stayin’.” Richie rolled his eyes bitterly. “Just- Come over here and get me, alright? Let me call Pete- God, you and this fuckin’ kid, got me callin’ Pete. You’re killin’ me Neil Jeff.” 

Richie hung up the phone with a huff, looking up at Tina. “What’s goin’ on? Jeff alright? What’s he doin’?” She pressed. 

“Yeah, Fak-Fak fuckin’ lost him.” Richie rubbed his forehead in exasperation. “But, I think I know where he’s at. Have a pretty good idea, anyways.” 

Tina eyed Richie carefully. “Richie, you know I love that kid, you know I do. But if he’s fuckin’ with Mama,” Tina shook her head, lips pursing in fury. It was no secret how taken she was to you, even before the affectionate nickname that came with the pregnancy. 

“He’s not,” Richie shook his head. “He’s stupid, hot headed, a fuckin’ baby- all that. But… C’mon, T, you and I both know he loves her. He wouldn’t do anything to them. Do somethin’ to himself before that.” 

Tina paused but nodded, face softening. “So, you know where he’s at then? You don’t… You don’t think he’s gonna…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, looking at the picture of Mikey with Richie, Tina, Ebra, and Marcus only a few months before he passed. Carmen had placed it at the front, a reminder of the legacy that was there before him, of The Beef and his brother. 

“No, I hope not.” Richie muttered, looking at his phone’s screen with dread, Pete’s contact on the screen gleaming back at him nearly mockingly. “I think I know where he is.” He sighed, pressing the button. 

Pete could feel his phone buzzing in his pants, ignoring it as he held the front door in a white knuckled grip. He hadn’t expected to see Carmen there, on his Ring camera, knocking on the door softly, softer than he expected given his manic looking state. 

“H-Hey, Carm,” Pete closed the door as casually as he could, only leaving a sliver open. “What, uh, what’s up, man?” 

“Hey, Pete,” Carmen could barely meet his gaze, suddenly overly aware of how disheveled he must have looked. 

“Uh, what-what brings you by?” Pete stuttered, heart picking up when he heard the soft thump behind him, Anchovy lurking behind his legs curiously. He gripped the door, shuffling his legs together, trying to close it on his frame so Anchovy wouldn’t slip by. 

“C’mon,” Carmen sighed, a tired look in his eye, too exhausted to even be pleading. “You know why I’m here, alright. I-I know they’re here.” 

“W-Who is? Sugar? Yeah, she-she’s off today.” Pete stiffened at the claim, swallowing nervously, trying to play it cool. Anchovy meowed loudly behind him, cringing when he was  given away by the cat. 

“Pete, don’t-” Carmen pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in slowly, trying to calm the tears that threatened to fall. He could hear Anchovy, hear the sounds of the house- the home. Soft child shows, the hum of the dryer, all the things that made the house feel alive. Carmen would give anything to have his home sound like that again, the silence was beginning to drive him crazy. 

“Where is she?” Carmen looks up, his gaze much harder than before, a frantic look beginning to take over his sadness. 

“I, uh, I-I don’t-” Pete stutters, fingers tapping on the wood of the door anxiously. 

“-Pete, I really don’t want you to fuck with me right now, alright?” Carmen takes a deep breath, trying to swallow back his emotions that were already beginning to climb in his throat again. “I need to- I-I need to see her, Pete.” Carmen couldn’t bring himself to say your name, sure even the first syllable would have him in tears, breaking down on the front porch. 

Another meow, louder than before, came before Pete could answer. The soft scratching of Anchovy’s paws on the door, a demanding meow that Carmen knew all too well. He’d learned to drown it out, or try to. It became nearly a soundtrack to your sex life when you’d first gotten the cat, locking him out of the room so you two could fuck, only for him to yowl and scratch and demand to be let in. Carmen could remember how you’d giggle, pouting at him exaggeratedly to let him in. His heart fell with an ache that was warm yet still made him feel sick. 

Pete looked down at the cat, then back at Carmen, a hesitant grimace on his face. “Carm… You-You know I would,” He started. Carmen’s heart soared with hope, eyes wide, a near adrenaline rush of excitement shooting through his system. “But…You know I can’t.” 

Carmen’s heart crashed, shattered with the hope he’d finally begun to find, to feel again. “What the fuc- Pete, that’s… Pete, c’mon. C’mon. Yo-You gotta let me in. Let me in.” Anger surged through Carmen’s chest. He closed his eyes tight and tried to swallow it down. All he’d been is angry. For weeks now, it had been a never ending cycle of anger and sickness and distraught, all amplified to new heights the second you left. 

Carmen could feel himself spiraling, ears starting to ring again, rushing and roaring flashbacks flooding into his mind. Your face when you left, Teddy’s cries, the critic’s pursed lips, Sydney’s disappointed face when he forgot something again, Tina’s eyes cutting. Carmen turned, shaking his hand lightly, trying to do a breathing exercise he saw on YouTube, years ago when he’d moved to New York. 

His breaths were deep, shaky, but deep enough that it cleared his head, dulled the ringing. His mind wandered back, Richie’s voice ringing in his head. “You wanna get her back? Quit actin’ like a goddam baby. Quit actin’ like this isn’t your own fuckin’ fault. Like you didn’t do this shit to yourself, Cousin. Take some fuckin’ accountability, grow the fuck up, and get your motherfuckin’ shit together, alright? And maybe-maybe you’ll get your family back.” Richie’s voice rang clear through his mind from a few nights ago, when Carmen was especially mean and awful. 

“Hey, uh, you alright?” Pete hesitated, leaning towards Carmen, his grip on the door loosening. 

Carmen took a deep breath, running a hand over his face before he turned back towards Pete, eyes shining with tears that threatened to fall. “Pete, please? Please?” Carmen begged, voice soft, cracking at the end. “Please, jus-just let me see her? L-Let me talk to her? Just- Let me tell her tha-that I’m sorry. Please… I need to tell her I-I’m sorry. Don’t-” 

“-Carmen?” Sugar gaped, her voice coming from behind Pete. She pulled the door open, shocked gaze dropping into furious, jaw setting in a near snarl. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She hissed. 

“Why do you think I’m here, Natalie? Huh?” Carmen snapped in anger, rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

“Oh, you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here.” Natalie snapped back, pulling the door open and stepping out on the porch. She stood in front of her younger brother, arms crossed in a standoff. 

“Pete, go inside.” Sugar sneered, her gaze not moving from Carmen’s. She felt like they were children again, having a staring contest to see who got the last piece of gum from Donna’s purse, only this time, it was for worse. 

“Nat, I-” 

“-I got it.” Natalie said firmly. Pete didn’t argue with her, simply nodding, shutting the door softly behind them. Her eyes held Carmen’s gaze, both of them intense, furious at the other for other reasons. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself-” 

“-I am-” 

“-Mortified.” Sugar sneered, giving him a disgusted shake of her head. Carmen shifted, biting his own tongue to keep it from lashing out at her. “Do you know what I came home to the other night? You want me to tell you?-” 

“-No, I know-” 

“-No, I’m going to tell you.” Natalie snapped. “I came home after a very long shift because our head chef decided to, oh, I don’t know- disappear and go on a psychotic rampage apparently.” Natalie scoffed sarcastically. 

“And I walk through the door, ready for bed. Maybe a glass of wine, maybe a bath, maybe to finally catch up on my shows with my husband; and you know what I found instead?” Sugar took a step towards Carmen, intimidating him with her harsh glare. “I find my husband taking care of your baby because your wife is sobbing-” 

“-Don’t-” 

“-No, no. I mean, sobbing. A total broken mess on my kitchen table, because she said you,” Sugar jabbed a finger at Carmen. “Decided to come home and scream at her. Not only scream, but say some of the most volatile, disgusting things I’ve ever fucking heard in my life to your wife, the mother of your very much so still a newborn baby.” 

Carmen felt the familiar wave of nausea wash over him, swallowing back spit that pooled in his mouth with a cry that threatened to fall from his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, to look at her gaze anymore. It felt too judgemental, left him feeling too vulnerable and sick of himself under it. 

“So let me ask first; What the fuck is the matter with you?” Natalie sneered. 

“I don’t know.” Carmen’s voice was tight, jaw tighter, fighting a tremble that was threatening to break. “I-I don’t… I don’t fuckin’ know. I-I didn’t- I didn’t mean it-” A single tear fell, slipping out of the corner of his eyes, sliding down his cheek- the final crack in his demeanor. 

Carmen tried to fight it, deep breaths that burned his lungs and nose to control the tears, keep him from breaking here on his sister’s porch, but they wouldn’t stop. Carmen wasn’t sure how he had any tears left, after crying for days on end, how he hadn’t shriveled up his tear ducts. Yet here he was, broken sobs slipping out again. 

Sugar didn’t move. Arms still crossed over her chest, lips still fixed in a hard line, watching Carmen with intensity as he broke down, tears flowing in front of her. She didn’t comfort him, not that he expected her to. She didn’t try to give him words of encouragement, advice on how to right the wrongs like the others did. Instead, she kept a furious gaze on him, unmoved by the tears. 

“Please,” Carmen sniffed hard, running the back of his hand over his nose. “Please, Sugar, please. Ju-Just let me see Teddy. Let me se-ee her. Don’t-Don’t do this to me. Don’t ke-ep my kid away from me-” 

“-Me?” Sugar scoffed, pushing her hand into her chest. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Don’t you even start that shit, Carm. I’m not keeping your kid away from you, let’s make that clear.” 

Carmen’s breath hitched when she stepped towards him, toe to toe with him, teeth bared in a grit of anger. “I didn’t take your kid away. You know who did? Hm? You.” Natalie snapped, Carmen flinched at the cruelty of her words. “You did this, Carmen. You did every last bit of this. This is on you. No one else but you.” 

Carmen held in a cry that threatened to break out, face crumbling with tears. He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to soothe the burn and hide his distraught. “And you know something else? I know you don’t remember dad very well, but I do, ok? And lately, you’ve been acting just like him.” Sugar’s tone clipped, leaving a burning sting in Carmen’s chest at her words. 

“Yelling just because shit didn’t go your way? Do you know part of the reason mom’s so fucked up? Why everyone takes her side all the time and babies her? Uncle Jimmy and Uncle Lee? It’s because dad used to berate her, scream at her so badly- say some of the worst shit in the world because he was stressed out, that those guys would feel bad for her.” Sugar ranted. “And I promise you- promise you if I told Uncle Jimmy right now what you said, how I found your wife, he’d agree with me. Maybe even worse.” 

Carmen shifted, his heart squeezing in fear now. Jimmy loved you, always had. He held a special soft spot in his heart for you. Worse was probably right, and truthfully, Carmen would accept it- he deserved it. It wouldn’t be as bad as how he felt right now. 

Natalie held Carmen’s gaze, letting her words sink in. She lifted his hand when he started to talk. “I don’t-I really don’t want to hear it, ok?” Natalie shook her head. “And before you start trying to come up with some excuse-” 

“-I-I’m not-” 

“- I want you to know something. To hear it and really listen to it.” Natalie paused, waiting until his eyes met hers to continue. “I know you’ve been through a lot- We’ve been through a lot. But that doesn’t mean you get to just treat people like shit. That you can act like this and it’s ok.” 

“I know that.” Carmen’s jaw was tight, strangled words croaking out. 

“Then act like it.” Natalie snapped. “It’s not easy, none of this is easy, Carm. I mean… Do you know that every day- every single day, I wake up and something happens that’s shitty or rough, and I think about how easy it would be just to grab a bottle of wine or two. Drink myself unconscious like mom does. Just how easy that would be, how nice it would be just to drown myself out instead of face the issues.” 

“There’s days when MJ or Maggie or-or Pete just drive me fuckin’ nuts, and I want to pull my hair out, or scream, or Pete will do something that just pushes me right over the edge and I just want to rage.” Natalie continued, arms waving dramatically. “I want to throw in the towel, take the easy way out, rage, drink myself silly, scream at all of them until I feel better, but you know what? You know what I don’t do? I don’t do that.” 

Natalie crossed her arms, taking a breath to steady herself. “I don’t do that to them because I know how that feels.” Her voice cracked, just barely, enough to show the emotion that was hiding underneath. “I know how that felt. I know how that made me feel.” 

Carmen could feel his eyes brimming with tears again, too emotional to be embarrassed. Donna’s many red faced, slurred screaming tyrades came back to his mind. How he’d hide, try and stay quiet and invisible to avoid them. Even as he got older. 

“I know how that fucked me up. How it fucked them up. How it fucked you up, an-and Mikey up. I mean- how it…it fucked our whole life up!” Sugar laughed humorlessly, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. “I just… When I think about that, and about how it just ruined all of us. That’s the last thing, the very last thing, I’d ever want to do to my kids, to Pete, t-to anyone, really.” 

Carmen nodded, too overwhelmed with emotions to speak. His throat burned, scratchy and sore from screaming and crying. His chest was tight, constricting his lungs, stealing his breath. He was on the verge of an anxiety attack, maybe something worse, yet, he felt eerily calm in the moment. Still even under the shame and hurt her words brought. He sat on the porch, sure his knees would give out soon, head spinning and dizzy with this damning realization. 

 “You need to make up your mind. Make a decision, right here, right now.” Sugar continued behind him. Though he couldn’t see her, he knew her face was stoic to hide the hurt, hide the emotions. A classic Berzatto deflection trait. “You need to decide what you’re going to do to be better for your family. If you’re going to continue to be a selfish, piece of shit, or if you’re going to change; be better.” 

Carmen’s shoulders shuddered with his next breath, deep but not intentional; like he didn’t even know he did it. Too dazed and deep in thought, staring blankly ahead. “I can tell you,” Sugar stepped towards the door. “It’s not comfortable. It’s not easy. It is so hard some days. You have to fight for it every day, fight to break shit that was drilled into you, fight to recognize that some things you do, you don’t even mean to. It takes a lot of work, but… I’d rather fight every single day to be better, to be kinder and softer and more understanding for my family, than to not have them at all.” 

Carmen couldn’t stop thinking of you. How you were so naturally nurturing and sweet. You’d always been like that. You were loving and gentle freely. You’d always been so patient with him. It almost made him feel insecure, inferior, when he thought of it before, but now, he just wanted to return the favor. 

“You decide what you want to do, and then maybe- maybe you’ll get to see them again.” Sugar turned the door knob, pushing it open. “But today? Not a chance. Go get yourself together before you try and do this again.” Carmen flinched at the door slamming behind her, harder than he thought it would. Still, he didn’t move from his spot on the porch, head in his hands, deep in thought about his future, his past, everything. 

“There he is!” Fak’s voice was muffled through the car window, slowly pulling to a stop in Sugar and Pete’s driveway. 

Carmen looked up slowly, taking a slow, grounding exhale in, just as Richie and Fak climbed out of the car. “Cousin, thank fuckin’- You better be glad he’s here.” Richie glared at Fak. 

“I am!” Fak chirped defensively. 

Carmen stood slowly, turning one last time to look at the front door. He couldn’t see through the small privacy glass on the door, but he swore he could hear you- hear your voice. Soft and hushed, a little cautious mixing with Sugar’s reassuring one. It took everything in him not to turn and bust the door down, run inside and throw himself at your feet, begging for forgiveness. 

He knew that time would come. 

Instead, he walked to the car, sliding in the backseat, ignoring the confused looks Richie and Fak gave each other. “So, uh, did you-” 

“-Don’t ask that.” Richie cut off Fak with a bark of annoyance. “What’s the matter with you?” 

“Nothing! I just- I thought we all wanted to know-” 

“-Hey, Cousin,” Carmen muttered, staring blankly at the house. Richie hummed, turning to Carmen carefully. “What’s, uh… You-You said you had someone for me to talk to?” 

“Yeah,” Richie nodded slowly. “The therapist?” 

Carmen paused, swallowing slowly. “You…You think she’d see me now?” 

“Right now?” Richie lifted a brow. Carmen nodded slowly, still looking past him, eyes glued on the house. He swore he could see a figure move- your figure, peeking through the blinds before ducking back into the shadows. “Yeah, I’m sure she will. I can… I can call her. See what I can do.” 

“Thanks.” Carmen twisted his wedding band gently, the car jolting gently as Fak started to back out. 

Fak turned around, looking from the back window to Carmen with a hesitant grimace. “You ok?” He asked, his voice dropped to a low hush with Richie on the phone beside him. 

“No,” Carmen admitted, shoulders slumping in defeat. “No, I-I’m not, but… I wanna be.” Carmen looked at Fak, eyes glassy with emotion. “I gotta get my shit together. Gotta do better f-for my family.” 

Fak nodded slowly, pulling out onto the road, slowly shifting the gears back into place. The car began to roll, Carmen watching Sugar and Pete’s house disappear in the rearview. His heart tore, ripped right down the middle and split at the seams knowing he was leaving you, Teddy- his family behind. It took everything, every ounce of strength not to turn around, not to run back. It hurt, but he realized, this is what Sugar was talking about. 

So, Carmen went to the other side of town, to the small building where Richie’s therapist was. His counselor he’d started seeing a while back, when he was on his purpose journey. 

It was weird, weirder than Al-Anon. Carmen felt entirely too vulnerable sitting in that chair, having her stare at him and only him, nodding as he told his ‘story’- it felt weird to call it that. He didn’t want it to be his story, his defining qualities. No, Carmen wanted a new story, a better one with you and Teddy and his family. He’d told Dr. Mullins that. 

“I think that’s a great start, Carmen.” She nodded, giving him a soft smile. “So, tell me how you’d do that.” 

Carmen scoffed lightly, looking down at his hands. “I, uh, I don’t really know.” He admitted. “Kinda thought that’s what you were for.” 

“You’re right. I’m here to help you reach that goal, maintain it.” She nodded. “But in order to do that, I need to know a little more.” 

“Like what?” Carmen muttered. “I don’t really remember my dad and all the bad shi-stuff he’d do.” 

“You said you didn’t want that to define you, so let’s not talk about that.” She shook her head softly. “Let’s focus on what you want. What kind of life you’d want to live with your family.” 

Carmen’s knee bounced, taking a shaky breath. “I… I don’t want to lose control.” He admitted. “I don’t want t-to scream, and say shit I don’t mean, and-and to take it out on people who don’t deserve it.” He looked up at her. “I don’t want to do that again.” 

“Good.” Dr. Mullins nodded slowly. “Let’s start there.” 

[kamiversee]

Sharing Is Caring ꨄ (part 3/3)

[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ You'll never accuse your boyfriend Choso of being too jealous of a lover after he reveals to you he has absolutely no problems with sharing you... (part one) (part two)

[ { Need to know } ] ➤This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.

[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, language, threesome, dirty talk, tw; possible men smooching, rough & semi-soft sex, choking, praise, degrading, etc.

[ { Parings } ] ➤ Choso x f!reader & Gojo x f!reader.

[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 6.8k (this entire thing is so long & I am no longer the same woman I was before I wrote this)

The two men don't think they've ever moved faster to do something in their lives. Gojo was scooping you up into his arms in the blink of an eye and Choso was rushing to clean the mess you'd made of his couch.

They were both oddly in sync, seeming to have had the same thought process of what they were about to do with you and how. Choso stayed where he was to clean up a bit and Gojo was carrying you off in the direction of Choso's bedroom.

He was carrying you bridal style and your eyes were all wide and up on his pretty face. You couldn't read his expression very well and you're not sure if that's because you were too fucked out to do so or if it was because you were just distracted by his features.

It's been so long since you'd been this close to Gojo, you nearly forgot how angelic his features are-- even when he's about to ruin you. Gojo catches onto your staring and glances down at you for a moment as he makes a turn, letting out a soft scoff in reaction to you.

"Why're you lookin' at me like that?" He hums before lifting his gaze and peering down the hallway ahead of him. He had no idea where he was going but he'd soon figure it out.

You tilt your head and smile a little, "Third door on your left, 'Toru." You instruct, to which blush spreads across his face as he clears his throat.

"Yeah, I knew that..." Gojo pouts a little and you can't help but find him cute while he continues his little walk, "But you didn't answer my question."

"I'm not looking at you any kinda' way, am I?" You ask with an innocent bat of your lashes.

Gojo makes it to Choso's bedroom and he's quick to walk in and kick the door almost shut behind him as he does so. You wonder why he tried to close the door for a second but you don't get much time to ponder on it as Gojo b-lines for the bed and lays you on it.

Then he's hovering over you, his eyes low on yours, and this look of pure desire washing over his face, "You're giving me that needy lil' look," He explains, "Like you want me to hurry up and fuck you."

You shrug, "Maybe I do."

"You don't wanna wait on your boyfriend?" Gojo asks. He's taunting you now. It's so very obvious with the way the corners of his lips curve into a smirk.

You swallow hard and don't answer for a moment. The two of you just gaze at one another for a long while, Gojo steadily inching down toward you and tilting his head opposite of yours.

His larger body was in between your legs so it's no surprise that you feel his cock brush against you as he gets closer. What is somewhat surprising is how wet his tip is as it brushes over your skin.

Then Gojo's lips are less than an inch away from yours, "Hm? Answer me."

You blink, "He's taking too long," You murmur in response with a slight pout. Lifting an arm and wrapping it around Gojo to pull him impossibly closer, you whisper right against his mouth, "Why wait when you could just fuck me right now? You know you want to."

Gojo's not sure he's ever had this much restraint in his life. Especially not when you sneak a hand down in between your bodies and grab a light hold of his leaky cock just to try and align him with yourself.

Your lips and his were right against each other but you two weren't kissing, simply breathing each other in, staring so longingly for one another. Hell, you might've been too into this because you genuinely forgot about Choso for a moment.

Then Gojo's pushing his hips down into you ever so slightly and his hard and flushed cock is just pushing against your cunt, begging and aching to enter you.

"You're so lucky you aren't mine," Gojo whispers, shifting to kiss only your lower lip before he repositions slightly and moves your hand away from his dick only to grab ahold of himself and tease you by dragging his tip in between your folds, "I'd lock the door and force Choso to listen to me fuck you senseless."

You grin, "What's stopping you? That's probably what he wants anyway..."

Gojo smiles, "What happened to you being nervous about cheating on him?"

"It's not cheating if he wants me to do it, right?" You hum.

A sight leaves Gojo's lips and he starts pushing only an inch of his cock inside you, feeling the way your legs move to wrap around his waist and how your pussy tries to suck him in deeper.

He's then shaking his head, "Thought' you wanted us both?"

"He can join later," You breathe out, your voice airier than before, "J-Just put it in Satoru."

Gojo draws his hips back and you let off a whine. Then he moves to tap his cock against your cunt, listening to how wet and lewd the little smack is, "Want' me that bad, huh?"

You nod, "Mhm..."

"Beg for me," Gojo utters, "If you want me to fuck you so badly and you just can't wait for your boyfriend," He's leaning into your lips again and speaks against you in such a messy way, "Beg for me."

"P-Please?" You whimper, feeling his cock nudge into you again but only an inch, "Fuck, Satoru please?"

"Please what?" He sneers and this time he's pushing another inch in, making you moan slightly.

"Just fuck me," Your words come out in a desperate little whimper and it drives the man crazy.

Gojo lifts his face up and slightly away from yours and pouts, "Just fuck me," He mocks, to which heat rushes to your face and you turn your head to the side, "So fuckin' needy," He groans as he finally starts pushing his cock inside you.

Truth be told, he couldn't wait either. Not when he had you to himself for a second, not when you were looking at him so longingly, and not when your cunt just squeezes around his shaft as he enters you.

It was like you wanted to push him away and yet suck him all the way in at the same time. You were so perfect. Gojo couldn't help but stare at the way your eyes flicker as he gets about halfway in-- you were too damn cute.

All that whining moments ago just for you to start struggling already. And to think you're supposed to be able to handle both him and Choso?

Gojo starts snickering, "Fuck, you're adorable," He says as he flashes a smile at you.

You glance out of the corner of your eye and furrow your brows as he continues pushing in-, fuck how much more does he have to go?

The man tilts his head at you and inclines down again, "Face me, sweetheart," He says, "I wanna watch the way your face twists up when I'm all the way in."

You swallow and slowly turn your head to him, your lips grazing his as you do so.

Then Gojo bites his lower lips, "Good girl," He praises, earning a whine from you. And that's all it takes for him to shallowly thrust the remaining inches of his cock into you.

Oh how he loves watching your entire facial expression change. Eyes rolling, jaw-dropping a bit, lips parted, and a sexy moan leaving your throat. Gojo pretty much forgets what the hell he's supposed to be doing at that point.

Because then he's pulling back out and thrusting deeper in, his hips crashing into yours and another moan, this time of his name, pouring out your mouth. Yeah, how did he get here again? What-, no who was he supposed to be waiting on?

Ah, he couldn't remember. Not now at least, not when your arms and legs are moving to wrap around him comfortably. And goddamn the way your pussy squelches around his dick, so loud and messy for him and he's barely even worked up a pace yet.

He'd fix that relatively quickly though, allowing you a few thrusts to get used to him before he can't take it anymore.

Gojo's eyes bore down into yours and he drinks in your face while he starts drilling himself into your tight hole. Then he's talking, "Fuuck, y'like that? Like' bein' an impatient lil' slut and gettin' dicked down without your boyfriend, huh?"

God, you hated his mouth. Or at least, you think you do. "M-Mmgh, Satoru-"

"What's he gonna think when he walks in, hm?" Gojo taunts, shifting to angle his hips differently and fuck into that one mushy spot inside you. Then he scoffs, "Actually, moan a lil' louder so he can hear ya'."

You bite your lower lip on purpose to keep your sounds in and then shake your head no.

Gojo scoffs, "No? Fuck you mean no?" He grunts, his voice getting so low as your brattiness ticks him off. Then he moves a hand to your face, grabbing a rough hold of your chin and moving his thumb to pry your lips apart, "Let your boyfriend hear how impatient you are," He huffs out.

"Fuuck-, S'toru p-please," You whimper, a slight bit of drool leaving the corner of your mouth.

He smirks, "Goddamn brat," The tip of Gojo's cock is just hitting deeper and deeper and deeper, "Tellin' me no," He huffs, "The hell has gotten into you, huh?"

You whine again, "M'sorryy... mmmh, hahh-, ahh..."

He tips his head to the opposite side, "M'sorrryyyy, she says. Please fuck me, Toru, she begged. Aaand yet here you are; fuckin' whining," Gojo mocks you as he just buries his dick as far in as he can go.

It felt like he was tearing you apart. His hips were so mean and brutal against yours, never giving you a chance to properly breathe before he's drilling into that spot that makes you see stars. You couldn't even think straight anymore unless he was talking to you and even then his words only made your situation worse.

Hell, you were cumming around his cock before you even realized it.

"Ohh, look at thaaat," Gojo huffs out, "Now she's creamin' on me-, fuuck..."

A shaky hand moves and tries to go to his mouth because fuck you just needed a second to breathe, to process what was happening, and to shut him up. But of course, Gojo just grabs your wrist and then pins it up over your head.

"Tryna shut me up?" Gojo snickers, "Why, pretty girl? Am I not makin' you feel good?" He whispers.

The heavy smack of his balls to your ass echo throughout the room, the loud and sloppy sounds of his harsh thrusts heard everywhere. In and out and in and out, Gojo wasn't slowing down for even one moment. He was damn there pussydrunk already.

By this point his mouth had a mind of its own and his hips wouldn't stop ramming into you. His soaked tip hit yet another spot that had your breath leaving your throat over and over and over again.

"F-Fuck-, oh fuck-," You gasp, eyes widening as your back arches up into him a bit, your chest flush with his as he then rolls his hips down into you to really dig into that very spot, "Oh my g-god- fuuuck, 'Toru p-please."

Gojo moves his free hand and trails down along your body until he feels the prominent outline of his cock inside you. Then he smirks just as he presses down on it, "Yeah? Feel' me right there, huh?" He whispers sensually.

His voice drove you insane and it's just perfect that he simply never stops talking.

And of course he moves over to whisper in your ear as he pounds into that spot of yours, feeling your walls clamp and clamp around his cock, "Forgot allll about your lil' boyfriend, didn't ya?" He taunts, making you let out such a whiney moan in response, "He's gonna walk in any second now 'nd catch you makin' a mess all over my cock."

You unintentionally squeeze around him and Gojo moans before his hand dips lower down and his thumb makes a messy connection with your clit, the initial contact making your entire body jolt and your legs clamp up, "F-Fuu-uck-, p-please-, please... hahhh," You're not sure what you were begging for but it's all you could say as his thumb circles your no-so-forgotten clit so tortuously slow.

Gojo kisses the crown of your ear softly and his thumb continues to draw tiny little shapes around your clit despite the rough thrusts into your pussy. Your cunt was spasming around his cock, twitching and throbbing all around him and making him groan at the way you squirm.

"C'monnn, y'know what I want," Gojo utters, his words caressing your ear so softly, "Cum f'me, sweets. Squirt on my fuckin' cock," He pleads, voice deep yet desperate with you, "Lemme prove your boyfriend wrong."

"Hahhh, S-Sa-, mmmgh-, Satoru," You whine out, voice slurred as you feel that sensation building up in your core again.

Gojo's eager for it so his pace grows a bit animalistic, sloppy even. So badly did he want to experience you squirting because of him, not your boyfriend. Choso's little comment from earlier still has Gojo upset so, he's taking it out on your poor overstimulated cunt.

All whilst he's whispering into your ear, "Fuuck, c'monn. Give it to me," He groans, "Fuckin' give it to me, sweetheart," Gojo's blurting out whatever comes to mind as all rational thoughts fade from his mind, "Y'know I'm fucking you better than he does anyway."

And with that, it happens.

Well, not you squirting again but your boyfriend walking in. Neither you nor Gojo realized until Choso huffed out a scoff, "Not like that, no you aren't." He comments in response to Gojo.

Maybe it was the shock from hearing Choso's voice, or perhaps it was the way Gojo thrust in balls deep as he too was shocked but either way, you do experience another leg-shaking orgasm.

As you do so, you're letting out a moan and you feel like you're about to pass out. You came a lot but, you didn't squirt— which ultimately leaves Gojo disappointed.

His lengthy cock is still buried into the hilt of your pussy but he stops moving at the sound of Choso’s voice. His breath is felt against your ear before Gojo grits his teeth a little— he knows he was close to getting what he wanted.

Then Gojo sighs and leans up, not daring to pull out of you yet as he sits back on his heels and pulls your hips along with him. It’s like he didn’t want to separate from you at all.

Turning his head back, he spots Choso standing at the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with his eyes low and on the lewd scene before him. The two men lock eyes before Choso shakes his head.

Gojo frowns as he finally processes what the hell he’d said to him, “What do you mean not like that, no I’m not?” Gojo huffs, “Had you not come in here, she would’ve wet me up like I wanted.”

Choso scoffs, “Yeah? Think so?” He taunts.

“I know so,” Gojo argues, eyes narrowing at the dark-haired man, “I felt it.”

“Uhuh,” Choso chastises, smirking a bit as he crosses his arms over his chest, “And what ruined that, me?”

“Yeah.” Gojo huffs.

“Aw,” Choso frowns, mocking Gojo’s expression as he pushes off the doorframe and slowly walks toward you two, “You’ mad cause you can’t make my girlfriend squirt?”

“I can,” Gojo emphasizes, “You just ruined the moment.”

“No one told you to stop,” Your boyfriend argues.

Gojo’s fingers are gently tracing indescribable shapes on your hips as your cunt keeps his cock nice and warm, “No one told you to come in here.” He fires back to your partner.

Choso raises a brow, “No one told you needy lil’ sluts to start fuckin’ without me.”

Gojo’s cock twitches inside you, “I’m not the needy one. Your girl here was the one beggin’ for my-“

“You told me to,” You mumble.

The man doesn’t even look down at you. Instead, all Gojo does is move a hand and squat his thumb over your clit again, making you jolt as you take that as his way of telling you to be quiet.

“Pretty girl couldn’t keep her hands off me, what was I supposed to do?” Gojo says as your back arches a little and your hips roll upward for more friction.

Choso couldn’t exactly see you too well yet but it was pretty obvious what Gojo was doing and he could hear the gentle whines you released. “Wait,” Choso says, “You were supposed to wait.”

A groan leaves Gojo’s lips and he rolls his eyes before turning his head away from your boyfriend and down to you, his eyes softening as soon as they land on the way you’re looking up at him. You had a hand trying to reach down and push his finger away from your clit but you were struggling— adorable, Gojo thought to himself.

“How could I possibly keep this,” His hips roll into yours and you moan, “Waiting?” Gojo questions.

“Toru,” You hum with a pout on your face.

He smiles and tilts his head at you, “Hm? That’ feel good?” He coos, his thumb shifting a little and pushing against your clit before he swats at it again. You nod in response and he continues his motions.

Choso rolls his eyes at you two. Despite the attitude he was putting on, he can’t deny how painfully hard he’s been. Even as he was cleaning the mess in the living room moments ago, he could hear you and Gojo going at it so he knew what was happening.

And when he had walked in and saw the way your cunt stretched around Gojo’s veiny cock, he couldn’t help but stare. Choso had to swallow hard at the sight because it made his dick throb wildly.

He was actually just watching for a bit before he even said something, his hand groping his erection at the sight before he couldn’t take it anymore.

All of which leads to now as he approaches the bed and you and him finally catch sight of one another.

Choso tips his head to the side as your eyes lay on his, “Look at youuu,” He murmurs, “Havin’ fun gettin’ fucked by someone else, huh?”

You frown, “N-No,” Gojo suddenly spits down on your clit and your body twitches as you talk to your boyfriend, “W-Want you too, Cho….”

He smiles, “Do you? Y’look like you’re havin’ a great time without me.”

It’s so sexy how you reach a hand out in his direction and whine for him, “P-Please, Choso?”

“You’re so cute when you beg for me, baby. How could I ever say no to ya’?” Choso comments with a smile on his face while he moves to get on the bed.

You and him forget Gojo’s there for a moment as Choso makes his way closer to you and then leans down to your face, his eyes gazing so intently into yours.

You try lifting your face to his to close the distance and kiss him but he leans up a little, “You want a kiss?” Choso teases.

You nod, “Uhuh.”

His hand carefully moves to grab a gentle and loving hold of your face, completely forgetting that he earlier said he was gonna put you in your place— Choso can’t even think of that right now when you look so fucked out and gaze up into his eyes so lovingly.

He sighs and leans down to you again, “Promise me somethin’ first.”

You bat your lashes at him and your eyes widen a little, “…Okay.”

All while Gojo’s sulking as he watches you two converse so intimately and just leave him out. As if to insert himself, despite his cock literally resting deep inside you, he spits on his thumb and rubs against your clit gently just to make your conversation a bit more difficult for you.

A breathy sound leaves your lips and Choso smirks, whispering to you so that Gojo can’t hear, “Stroke his ego a lil’ bit f’me, okay?” Choso instructs before placing a soft peck onto your lips.

You hum and then furrow your brows a bit as he pulls away.

“Make him feel good, baby” Choso hints and you think you get the idea of what he wants you to do.

Then he presses his lips into yours and carefully makes out with you. Ah Choso couldn’t help but forget why he was ever even upset with you. Why’d he call Gojo over again? What was all this for?

He was mad at you about something, right?

Oh who cares, all he wants now is to watch you lose your mind more than you already have as you get pleased by two men. And, he can’t deny he is a bit excited to taunt you with the help of Gojo— he makes things entertaining.

So he gets a little lost in kissing you, having not felt your lips on his in what felt like an eternity. Choso’s not even thinking straight as he groans against your lips and shoves his tongue into your mouth where it oh so rightfully belongs.

And he’s thriving in doing so up until you move a hand down and start reaching for him, your fingers grazing his waistline and making him moan into your mouth.

Your lips curve into a smile and you hum as he shifts so that you can reach him properly, your fingers sliding to grab ahold of his cock through his clothing and making him moan filthily against you.

His hips instantly push into your hand as your fingers cup his length. Choso pries himself off your lips for a split second, “Fuck, I missed kissin’ you s’much,” He grunts into your mouth.

You grin, “M’sorry, I m-missed you too baby,” You murmur against him.

Choso lets out the sweetest little whine as that nickname hits his ears and he had half a mind to just kick Gojo out of the situation entirely and make love to you.

Pulling away from your lips with a slight smile on his face, Choso huffs, “You have no idea what you do t’me, do you?”

You give him a cheeky little smile, “I do.”

Gojo suddenly clears his throat, “…Am I interrupting something?” He teases.

You and Choso look at him in sync and scoff at him.

You then roll your eyes, “Yes.”

“No,” Choso corrects, glancing at you once more to tell you to behave yourself through his gaze before looking to Gojo again, “You’re not.” Then Choso cocks his head to the side, “What, did you want a kiss too?”

Gojo’s got this little pout on his face after being left ignored for so long even though his cock had been sitting inside you all this time. He’d felt you clench and twitch around him numerous times ever since Choso walked in.

So, playfully, he shrugs, “Maybe.”

Choso rolls his eyes for a moment before he sits up, “Y’know, I was gonna say no buut, I have an idea.”

A very faint shade of red flushes over Gojo’s face as he blinks. Choso was considering his answer? He’s gonna kiss him? Why? What-

“If you can make my girl squirt,” Choso starts, cutting Gojo’s thoughts off, “I’ll give you a kiss…….. if that’s actually what you want, of course-“

“Okay,” Gojo breathes out and the two make eye contact.

Gojo looked all too excited and Choso couldn’t tell if it was to kiss him or make you squirt but either way— it was kinda cute.

Your boyfriend smiles briefly before looking down at you and nodding his chin toward you, “Remember what I said,” He hums.

You nod before looking at Gojo and then moving to sit up a little, holding yourself up on your elbows. Gojo meets your gaze and for a moment, he’s not even sure where to begin.

Choso chuckles at the two of you before he says your name and you look at him, “C’mere,” He directs, watching the way your eyes light up as he stands on his knees.

You’re quick to wiggle yourself away from Gojo, who lets off a whine as his cock slips out of you. The sound catches your boyfriend’s ears and he shakes his head.

“Relax,” Choso says to Gojo, “You’ll get to feel her again in a second.”

Gojo frowns and simply sits on his heels as he then watches you move to crawl over to your boyfriend, your legs wobbly and thighs wet from all activities done thus far. Then Gojo’s staring at your cunt and he starts to get the idea of what’s about to happen.

You hastily get to your boyfriend and just as he opens his mouth to say something, your hands are at his hips and your lips are making sudden contact with his lower abdomen. Choso swallows thickly as he stares down at you, moving his palm over your head of hair and smiling at you.

“Hahh,” Choso breathes out, “Eager, are we?” He taunts.

Your gaze flicks up to him for a moment as you kiss lower and your fingers slip beneath his pants. Then you’re tugging them down and moving to pull his cock out, your eyes going a bit wide as you see how painfully hard he was.

Choso’s cock was throbbing and twitching like crazy, so much so that it made your mouth water. You start to move your lips toward him but he pushes your head away a little.

Frowning, you glance up at him again and your boyfriend smiles down at you. Taking his cock into his free hand, he moves to tap his tip against your lower lip as he speaks, “Take care of our guest first, princess.” Choso hums.

You whine before angling your head back to make eye contact with a very pouty and slightly forgotten Gojo. With a sigh, you part your legs and reach a hand back to spread yourself invitingly.

Gojo bats his eyelashes at you, “Is that supposed to be an invitation, sweets?” He teases as a smile starts to spread on his face, cock dripping at the sight of you.

You nod your head, “Mhm…”

“You want me inside you again?” Gojo asks while he begins to move toward you, already knowing the answer to his question.

“Obviously,” You huff out, your gaze rushing him.

He takes his time anyway until he’s finally behind you, quickly aligning his tip with your messy folds and rubbing himself against you, “Thought I fixed that attitude of yours already?” Gojo says with a scoff.

Purposefully, you roll your eyes and start to face forward again, glancing up at Choso afterward.

“Baby,” Choso coos, his brows furrowing a bit, “Go ahead ‘nd arch your back, show him what you do f’me,” He utters softly.

You frown but do so anyway, the curve in your back making Gojo swallow hard as he takes in your form. “Damn,” He breathes, shifting a hand to palm your ass, “This is perfect.”

Choso can’t help but smile proudly because of you, “I know right? We gotta reward her for that, don’t we?”

Gojo nods his head but his eyes are stuck on how you’re trying to wiggle your hips back onto him, “Yeahhh, she’s so needy f’us too.”

Meanwhile, you’re also moving your mouth forward and pressing your lips into Choso’s aching tip— watching how his entire body tenses up and he flinches before looking down at you.

“S-So fuckin’ needy,” He unintentionally stammers. Then he moves one of his hands to your chin and opens your mouth for himself, “Nice ‘nd wide f’me, baby.” Choso instructs.

Naturally, you listen, dropping your jaw and even sticking your tongue out for your boyfriend as he carefully pushes his hips forward.

All while Gojo’s still teasing your cunt by rubbing his tip all in between your folds and even purposefully pushing his cock past your pussy wetting his shaft up with your slick.

Gojo’s hands then slide up along your body until he grabs onto your waist, still admiring that arch of yours before he finally rolls his hips forward and pushes his cock back into you. A moan leaves your throat immediately but the sound is muffled by Choso stuffing your mouth full of his cock.

Your boyfriend lets out a deep and guttural groan at both the feeling of your wet mouth around him and the way you moan against him. Then there’s Gojo who moans as he finds himself buried into the hilt of your tight cunt again.

Gojo swears you got tighter than before because he barely even realizes he has to move for a minute as he just sits there submerged in your pussy— feeling your walls clamp and clamp and clamp around him just because you’ve got two cocks inside you.

“Fuuuck,” Gojo whines a little, his head tipping back as you squeeze around him so perfectly.

While Gojo’s busy… adjusting to your pussy sucking the soul out of him, Choso’s in front of you easing his cock in and out of your mouth.

As he does so, you’re flicking your tongue against that one sensitive vein he has trailing along his shaft and the sensation makes your boyfriend moan above you. The sound stirs Gojo out of his trance and he blinks back into reality.

Glancing up, he pulls his hips back before rolling them forward so very slowly just to match the pace at which your boyfriend was going. And of course, you moan at how in sync they are, feeling Gojo’s tip kiss your cervix as Choso’s cock dips deeper into your throat.

All your moans were muffled against Choso and he groans just about every time he feels your warm mouth vibrating against him. Then there was every time he pulled himself back, your tongue would twirl around his tip so sloppily that he couldn’t even take his eyes off you.

Then suddenly Gojo’s pelvis snaps into you, the harsh thrust making you whimper while Choso’s dick slips right back into your mouth. Your boyfriend’s hand then finds its place on your head to hold you steady as he ups his own pace, biting his lower lip at how good your mouth feels.

“Shiit,” Choso whines and you feel him twitch against your tongue, “Makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good, princess.” You hum against him and he flashes a lazy smile down at you, his eyes low and breath heavy, “Enjoyin’ this, huh?”

Sloppily, you nod and then there’s a sudden jerk forward of your body as Gojo grabs onto your hips and snaps his own into you yet again. Your eyes flicker and you moan yet again.

Then Gojo lands a hand on your ass, smacking you harshly as he grows a bit rough, “Course’ she likes this shit,” He suddenly groans out, “Pussy won’t stop squeezin’ me,” He hums with a heavy pant.

Choso feels you suck on his cock a bit more eagerly and he starts thrusting in and out a bit faster as if to match how needy your mouth was moving against him, “Yeah?” He huffs out to Gojo, “Well,” Choso tilts his head and lifts his gaze to Gojo, “Looks like you’re strugglin’ over there.”

Gojo’s brows push together and he pants, “Shut up,” He grunts as he shifts to fuck into your sweet spot, feeling how heavenly your cunt throbs around him and listening to the wet squelch that emits from your hole every time he pushes in.

Your boyfriend feels you gag a little and he eases his hips back but doesn’t look down at you just yet— keeping his eyes on Gojo who’s definitely losing his mind right now.

His hair was wet with sweat, messy white locks sticking to his forehead and sweat dripping down along his body. Choso thinks he’s jealous of this guy’s physique as he stares at him, watching how aggressively he beats his hips into you— his slutty lil’ girlfriend.

Gojo’s eyes suddenly flicker and Choso’s feels you moan. The white-haired man then whines, “S-Shit, m’gonna-, fuuck… m’gonna cum-,”

Choso’s fingers suddenly curl into your hair and he grips onto you a bit tighter as he ruts his hips into you, your nose meeting his pelvis with his every thrust as he mindlessly fucks your throat.

“Yeahhh, I can tell….” Choso blurts out, his face instantly going red as Gojo locks eyes with him and raises a brow.

Gojo, never being one to back down from some harmless teasing, rolls his hips into you and huffs, “Oh can you now?” He sighs, cracking a half-smile at the man.

The red in Choso’s face deepens before he shifts his gaze down to you, “Fuck off ‘nd focus on makin’ my girlfriend squirt.”

Gojo grunts a little as you squeeze around him, “Kinda hard t’do that when you’re starin’ at me, y’know.”

“You liked it,” Choso argues back thoughtlessly.

Now it’s Gojo’s face that was brightening up, his eyes widening as he opens his mouth to argue back. Unfortunately for him, you suddenly pull your mouth off of your boyfriend and shift to lift yourself up and grab ahold of Choso’s jaw.

Your boyfriend bats his eyelashes at you as you toss one arm around him and hold his face close to yours whilst Gojo continues thrusting into you.

“S-Stop flirting with him, it’s annoying,” You huff out, your voice slurred as you moan in between your words.

Choso blinks, “I wasn’t-, wait… baby, were you gettin’ jealous?” He coos.

Gojo shifts behind you, leaning his body forward and wrapping one arm around your waist before trailing his hand down. His fingers roll over your clit and your body twitches as his lips suddenly press into the side of your neck.

You were being sandwiched by the two at this point but you weren’t complaining at all.

“Scared m’gonna steal your boyfriend from ya’?” Gojo taunts in a low whisper.

Your brows furrow and you remove your hand from Choso’s jaw, dropping it to wrap your fingers around his cock possessively, “No… he knows who he…. mmgh-, b-belongs to,” You huff out as you stare into your boyfriend’s eyes.

Choso chokes at the sound of that and to make it even worse for him, Gojo peers over your shoulder, and all three of you are all too close to one another.

His hips push into your touch and he whimpers, “Y-Yeahh, yeah I do,” Choso sighs out, nodding his head in agreement to your words.

And then your lips are on his and the two of you are a moaning mess against one another, Gojo moving to sink his teeth into your shoulder just to never once feel left out. He bites down hard enough to leave a mark and then Choso moves a hand in between you and him just to reach up and grab ahold of your neck.

Their touch was everywhere at this point, large hands all over your body that it was making you dizzy. Choso’s fingers tighten around your throat, Gojo swats at your clit again as his cock bullies your insides, and then there’s his other hand at your waist, holding onto you for dear life whilst his tongue swivels over the area he’d bit.

Your hand was busy jerking Choso off and the bedroom was filled with such sloppy and filthy sounds of sex. You and Choso were whining into each other and Gojo was grunting near your ear.

Then, similar to earlier, he’s talking into your ear, “Takin’ me so well, sweetheart,” Gojo groans, “Fuuck, m’gonna cum inside ya’ if you keep squeezin’ like that.”

Choso suddenly pulls off your lips and you whine. Then your boyfriend glances at Gojo, whose face is closer than he expected, “Y-You’re gonna do what?” Choso questions.

All three of you were more than fucked out by this point but Choso’s ears twitched at the sound of Gojo saying he was gonna release inside you.

Gojo smirks, “What? I can’t cum inside your girlfriend? C’monnnn, don’t be mean,” He teases with a little pout on his face.

Your head drops into the crook of Choso’s neck, his hand falling off you as you do so, and his face gets even closer to Gojo’s because of it— the two nearly sharing breaths by this point.

“M’not bein-,” Your hand tightens around Choso’s shaft and his eyes nearly roll back, “S-Shit-, m’not bein’ mean, y-you can’t-“

“Please?” Gojo whispers, his eyes lowering and his face shifting into something needy, “Lemme cum inside her, p-please? She feels so fuckin’ good… I gotta-, agh-, f-fill her up,” Gojo moans out.

Both men are struggling with their words due to you. Then, your hand begins to slide along Choso’s cock a bit faster than expected and you take a peek down just to realize he was cumming.

“Oh fuck-,” You whine at the sight, “Choso,” You moan.

Gojo lets out a loud groan and he starts drilling into you a bit sloppier than before, his sanity waning as his orgasm approaches, “Please,” He begs, “P-Please? Fuuck, I can beg all day, man. Please-“

And suddenly, Choso’s leaning in and grunting into his mouth, “Okay,” He hums as he suddenly acts on impulse and kisses Gojo.

Your body was being completely squished between the two and with each of Gojo’s mind-numbing thrusts, your body just presses into Choso’s. The tip of Gojo’s cock is digging and digging and digging deeper inside you, making your eyes water with how hard he was fucking you all because of Choso suddenly kissing him.

And the two had the nerve to be loud with it too, lips sliding over each other so messily as they kissed each other without second thought.

You believe you were too out of it to even process the fact that your boyfriend was making out with Gojo because then you’re experiencing that mind-boggling sensation again, gummy walls suffocating Gojo’s cock as your body jerks and twitches in between the two.

Then, all at once, you’re seeing blissful sparks of white in your vision, making a filthy mess in between the two as Gojo’s cock slips out of you and you squirt yet again. Choso’s hands move to hold your body tenderly as you start to fall over a bit and then his mouth pops off of Gojo’s.

“Fuck,” The two breathe out in unison.

Gojo’s eyes are down on the lewd mess you just made and he notices his cum leaking out your cunt— wondering to himself when it even happened? One minute he was begging Choso to cum inside you and the next…

The next he was kissing him…

Meanwhile Choso’s dazed as he shifts to get a good look at your face.

You think you were a bit lightheaded, lashes fluttering so softly as you pant heavily trying to catch your breath. Your eyes just barely meet Choso’s and he smiles at you.

“You okay?” Choso murmurs. You frown and shake your head. “Tired already?” Your boyfriend continues, then you nod and he moves to kiss your forehead, “S’okay, baby. You did s’good for us.”

Gojo’s behind you moving to wipe the sweat off his forehead, “Too damn good…” He comments.

Your eyes narrow at your boyfriend and your voice is hoarse again, “…You kissed… him.”

Choso’s face flushes and he swallows, “I was in the heat of the moment, I’m s-“

“And it w-was so fucking…” Your body leans into him a bit more as you shut your eyes, “…Hot.”

Both Gojo and Choso are at a loss for words and neither of them really wants to discuss what they just did, both telling themselves that they weren’t thinking straight (literally) despite both of them having thoughts of doing so a few times throughout the night.

Choso starts shifting to wrap his arms around you and move you away from the… filth below, just to lay you down as you start yawning.

Then, he hovers over your face and watches how you sleepily blink at him, “No more sex-ban, right?” Choso whispers.

You pout but close your eyes, “…Mhm.”

He leans down and kisses you, “Promise?”

“S’long as you invite Satoru over again, yeah,” You hum.

Choso freezes and glances back to Gojo for only a second, before smirking and looking back down at you, “Yeah sure, whatever you want princess.”

he’s definitely inviting Gojo over for himself, not you.

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

[miumura]

THE LOOK IN HIS EYES ─── P.SUNGHOON

( 엔하이픈 성훈 ) ﹕ sunghoon is assigned with the task to accompany you at a party — however, one slight problem, you’re barely enjoying your time around him. so, as his job, he feels the need to fix that.

──── sunghoon x f ! r . . . ⌕ body guard au & fluff ∿ 2K+ ( 2033 WC ) ╱ HAPPY SUNGHOON DAY !! should have released a christmassy fic but this picture of him still lingers in my mind so i had to write something based of it … 🫣

Parties? You loved them.

Something about the bustling environment was enough to get your adrenaline running. It was a time where you’d be free from your duties given by your parents, simply spending the night away doing what you wanted.

So, there was obviously no way you could turn down an event, especially the huge one everyone was talking about recently.

However, the only problem? You had to be accompanied by your bodyguard, Park Sunghoon, for the entirety of tonight.

“I feel so restrained with you being here,” you huffed as you sank in the chair, staring at the crowd seemingly having the best time of their lives. You were stuck here, sitting next to him out of all people. Now, if you had expected him accompanying you alongside the party, you would have worked harder to tell your parents no.

Who would’ve expected he’d be here, looking blankly with that cold expression of his, instead of just waiting in the car?

“Why do you feel that way, Miss Y/N?” Sunghoon asks with the most monotonous voice ever, enough to make you simply want to grit your teeth. The fact he was asking such an obvious question—someone who was as persistent as him—would’ve already known the answer to that. It’s as if your parents programmed him to say anything, even if it was completely obvious or nonsense.

“I wonder why I would be acting like this around you,” you scoffed while fixing your posture to take one good look at him again. Resting your arms on the table, you shifted your body closer to his side. “You’re the cause of this, Mister.”

“Mister?” Sunghoon slowly turned, his eyes narrowing slighter as he placed his forearm on the table. His eyes interlocked with yours as he inched closer to you. “Then who would be able to watch over you to make sure you’re okay?”

His cold yet serious glance pierced through you. With this close proximity being so sudden, the words you wanted to say to let out some steam disappeared.

“I can’t really disobey your parents’ orders, can I?” he continued, raising a brow while keeping his eyes firmly on yours. “And I told you already, didn’t I? Let’s drop those silly formalities.”

Your breath hitched, and you instinctively leaned back, your back meeting the chair a little too quickly. Flustered, you cleared your throat, crossing your arms as if to create some distance.

“I suppose,” you muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. “But still, it’s uncomfortable for me. I can’t do anything without you watching me like a hawk.”

“Isn’t that my job as a bodyguard?”

“You’re rather extreme for a bodyguard, don’t you think?” you shot back at him.

“And how is that?”

“I can’t even do anything without having to be constantly wary of messing up something. I can’t even enjoy a party with you being here. Parties are supposed to be fun, and I can’t even drink comfortably or dance!”

“Why can’t you do that?”

“I just told you—because of you!” The frustration in your voice rose unexpectedly, catching even yourself off guard. Sunghoon blinked at your tone, momentarily taken aback, though his expression remained unreadable. You turned away, refusing to meet his gaze, your arms tightening around yourself.

“Then let’s go,” he said suddenly, pushing back his chair as he stood. He adjusted his blazer with practiced ease, his movements sharp and composed. Your eyes darted back to him, caught extremely off guard.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Drinking and dancing… that’s what you want to do, right?” His eyes met yours with a strange vibe of determination. “Then let’s do it.”

“You’re kidding,” you muttered, still processing his words.

“I’m not,” Sunghoon said simply. “You want to enjoy the party, so let’s make it happen.”

“Why would I do it with you?” You said with shock as your arms fell onto your lap.

“Aren’t I the one responsible for making you feel that way?” He tilted his head. “I should work on not letting you feel that way again.”

His words left you stunned, your lips parting as you hesitated to respond. It felt strange—unnatural even—to hear something like that from him. It wasn’t like Sunghoon to say something so... considerate.

Noticing the shift in your demeanor, Sunghoon let out a quiet “ah,” as if realizing something. “Because of your parents,” he added, his tone more neutral now. “I need to look out for you.”

Right. Your parents. The mention of them brought you back to reality. Pressing your lips together, you swallowed the words threatening to spill out. Instead, you rose from your seat, meeting Sunghoon’s gaze head-on now that you were standing at his level. “I hope you’ll be able to watch over me well, Sunghoon.”

Without waiting for his reply, you turned on your heel and headed toward the drink bar. Sunghoon stood frozen for a moment, his hand twitching as if to reach out and grab your arm. But before he could act, you were already walking away. Slowly, he lowered his hand, shoving it into his pocket with a frustrated sigh.

Still, his instincts kicked in. Watching you move further away, he quickly followed, keeping you in his sight. After all, it was his job to make sure you were safe.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Sunghoon questioned as he still saw you standing close by the bar.

“Don’t feel like it,” you say, swirling the drink in your hand. You’ve been slowly sipping that drink of yours, eyes lingering at the dancing crowd.

“Is it because of me?”

“No, really, it’s just… there’s too many people and the music playing isn’t my style,” you try to shrug it off as you continue to watch them dance as if they had no care in the world.

But, your actions speak more than your words, and Sunghoon could see right through you. He moved to stand right in front of you, his expression unreadable again—the classic Park Sunghoon type.

“Let’s get you dancing.”

“What?” you blinked at him, feeling quite startled by his request.

The music shifted then, as if on cue. The energetic beats faded into something softer, slower, and much more intimate. Sunghoon didn’t budge, still standing right in front of you as couples began pairing up around the room.

“Didn’t you want to have a good time?” He asked, wondering why you were frozen in place. “We can go on the dance floor for that.”

Sure, you did want to enjoy the night, but not like this. Not with the timing so terribly ironic, leaving the two of you standing there awkwardly as others around you started pairing off for… couple dancing.

Sunghoon peeked over to look at you, watching you as you seem to purposefully ignore his presence. He eyed the crowd, watching the pairs dance hand in hand, their laughter traveling around the room as they moved carefree.

“Y/N,” you turned to his voice, your eyes soon looking down at his hand extended to yours. Quickly, you raise your hands in protest.

“Oh, I don’t want to trouble you with that. You see—”

“What? The music is not your style again?” He cut you off, his tone sharp but not unkind. His hand was still extended out for you. “Or do you really feel that uncomfortable around me?”

“It’s not that,” you stammered. “It’s just, you know, I… I can just wait for the next song!”

“If you keep waiting, then when will you be able to have the night you want?” He asked, leaving you struck by his words.

“Well…” you trailed off, getting Sunghoon’s close attention. He leaned in slightly with his eyes flickering to the movement of your lips, trying to predict what you were going to say.

“Well?” he said rather impatiently, although he didn’t want to come across that way. He just wanted to know your answer.

“It’s just a dance, right?” you chuckled awkwardly, your gaze drifting down to his outstretched hand. Slowly, hesitantly, you placed your hand in his. Sunghoon’s fingers curled upward to hold yours securely, his touch firm yet careful.

When you looked up at him, your breath caught. His usual stoic expression had softened, his eyes meeting yours with a feeling that made this moment more heavy than it should’ve been.

“Just a dance,” he murmured, his voice steady, as if he was reminding him of what this was supposed to be.

With that, you two danced together, moving at the same pace as the other couples. Sunghoon's hand rested steadily on your back, while his gaze—strong and unwavering—remained locked on you. What could have been an incredibly awkward situation felt unexpectedly… comfortable. You surprised yourself by matching his steps with ease, his presence oddly reassuring.

“Bodyguards can learn how to dance now?” You joked, attempting to break at the nonexistent silent barrier. Instead of one of his serious, programmed answers, you noticed a fond smile creep up on his face.

“Can’t one be obligated to do something they want, just like how you wanted to get up and enjoy this party?” he replied smoothly, his smile widening enough to reveal the faint glint of his canines.

The serious, cold Park Sunghoon… smiling. At you.

Your eyes found it habitually trailing elsewhere, which was more difficult given his figure blocking you from looking at anything but him. Still, you tried to find a way, which was looking at his side, you hoping not to glance back at his features. You weren’t sure why, but you felt the sudden urge to forget that smile.

Sunghoon noticed. Of course, he noticed—when didn’t he notice you? He noticed the way your eyes lit up with excitement when you’d first received the party invitation. He noticed the subtle furrow of your brows earlier when something about the party seemed to bother you. And now, he noticed the way your gaze wavered, a clear tell of your flustered state as the two of you danced hand in hand.

Your little moment of distraction didn’t go unnoticed by your feet either, as a sudden misstep caused your ankle to twist awkwardly. A gasp escaped your lips, but before you could fully lose your balance, Sunghoon’s reflexes kicked in.

His hand gripped your waist firmly as he pulled you closer, steadying you. His other hand shifted slightly to ensure your grip was secure, to make sure you didn’t stumble again.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you shrugged off, dropping your hand away from his arm as you stood on your own.

“You should’ve been more careful,” Sunghoon said, his grip slowly loosening but not entirely off your waist. “Can’t have you ruining your night.”

There was that stupid smile of his again–his canines appearing once more faintly as his smile grew wider. Strangely enough, you found yourself smiling too, finding it hard to suppress it.

“You’re smiling again,” you muttered, your eyes still lingering on his face. Sunghoon hummed as his hand continued to stay on your waist, his expression softening even more. It was as if you were opening another side of him, simply just by looking into his eyes.

“Does it bother you?”

Maybe it did, but you just couldn’t tell somebody that. That would be rude to… not let a smile like that appear on someone’s face. Instead of responding, you shook your head, maintaining the eye contact you tried so hard to avoid before.

“Then that’s good,” he said, his voice easily cutting through the music playing in the background. “Because I think I might be smiling a lot tonight.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his words while also feeling an unexpected warmth spread across your face. You nodded, finding yourself holding onto his arm again. His sincerity was too hard to miss, and his presence was slowly becoming less suffocating.

Without thinking too much of it, you steady yourself to continue swaying in the rhythm with him. After all, you did want to enjoy your night, and Sunghoon was there to accompany you as it’s seemingly his job.

He is your bodyguard, after all.

‘💬’ — not even a xmas fic but december by ariana grande was pretty much on loop while writing this …

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

A/N: Another Fern fic at last, requested by a kofi member ^^

Shrinking down to Fern’s side seemed almost fun at first. Getting to save money on food expenses and cuddling with your boyfriend while being the little spoon was great!

It only occurred to you a few hours after becoming a tiny human that you still had to do everything your big self had done before.

Except now you were the size of a pencil.

“Ahh, I still have to write out a report, make my lunches for this week, call my mom, do the laundry-“

Fern watched you panic from his usual spot on your bed, his head propped up by his hands. While you were struggling, he was relaxed and content to have his mate smaller than him for once.

“Calm down, princess. Don’t forget you have me to help. I’ve been this size my whole life, doing your chores can’t be that hard.”

Fern was terribly wrong.

Attempting to type out a detailed report by jumping key to key was exhausting, and after he messed up several times you had to do it alone. It left you too tired to do anything else.

“This would usually only take me 30 minutes, how much time has passed?”

“… three hours.”

You groaned, burying your face into his shoulder as he played with your hair. “How do you do it, Fern? You always seem so happy go lucky, but being small can’t be easy on you.”

He smiled, looking down at you fondly. “It’s not easy, but when you’re around it’s hard to be exhausted or angry.”

This made your heart flutter, and you let him guide you to the laundry room.

“My vines aren’t agile enough to help you type, but they can throw laundry into the washer and take them out no problem.”

He used his magic, vines creeping in through your window. They clumsily tossed clothes into the washer, and Fern flew you up so you could select the proper settings.

“Now I need to call my mom and make some lunches… how long will I be like this?”

Fern was too busy soaking in the feeling of you in his arms as he flew towards the fridge to really listen, so it took him a moment to process what you had said.

“… a few hours, maybe a day or two perhaps.”

‘Hopefully longer…’ Fern though, even though he felt guilty for it. Who could blame him? His lover was finally the same size as him, who wouldn’t want this to last forever?

The two of you laughed, both covered in food after struggling to finish packing your final lunch.

“Come, dear. Let’s get cleaned up.”

You sat in the small tub, feeling Fern’s cock twitch as he held you against him. He didn’t acknowledge his erection, a soft pink dusting his freckled cheeks.

“There’s mustard in your hair too, love.”

You pouted at him, feeling Fern’s fingers scrub the mess from your hair. You were glad you had bought such a large tub for fern to use for bathing, it had enough room for the two of you to sit comfortably without being squished.

Again, his erection rubbed against you, a soft hiss slipping from his lips as he clutched your hips. It was clear he wanted you, but was holding back.

“Fern…”

He whimpered when you reached back to stroke his cock, nearly cumming on the spot.

“Mmph! That’s… ahh…”

His hips bucked, a moan leaving his parted lips as he let out a needy whine. Now that you were small, he could truly have you…

Before you knew it you pulled into his lap, straddling him as his cock nudged at your fat pussy. God, he had dreamed of this day…

Getting to watch his cock stretch you out was heaven to Fern. You struggled with his size for a moment, your pussy clenching around him as he rubbed at your clit.

Unbeknownst to you, he had been looking over your shoulder at the smut you read at night, and had learned a thing or two.

As he bounced you on his lap at a steady rhythm, he pulled you in for a kiss, his slipping to the small of your back. You tasted sweet, like the chocolates the two of you ate earlier. He wanted more, so much more…

Cumming deep inside of you, stuffing you full of his seed felt… amazing. Fulfilling. It had to be the best thing to ever happen to him.

You were so beautiful, so warm and tight, he just couldn’t help but spurt thick ropes of hot cum into you, painting your walls and praying that this got you pregnant.

After that, he carefully washed the both of you up, occasionally using his fingers to pump his cum back into you when it started to drip out.

You returned to your full size the next day, but Fern was just happy with the memory of his cock stretching you out…

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko

[megamindsecretlair]

Make Me Weak, Part 3

Pairing: Sex Therapist!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, mentions of depression, anxiety, and description of sexual issues. Power imbalance, Shy!reader. Dark!Terry. Dom!Terry, AU Terry, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some. I'm not a therapist and while I do not make light of therapy, this is purely for my own fun. Please seek real medical attention when necessary.

Summary: Your third session with Dr. Richmond gets more intense as he finally figures out how best to help you. He makes you dig deeper and uncover uncomfortable truths about yourself.

Word Count: 4,751k

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3 Link

A/N: Alright now, I'm feeling a smidge bullied about this series. I am very thankful that ya'll love my series and while I know that it's out of love, I have a squirrel brain and bad noodle days. I would never want to put out a subpar fic. So the best way to encourage me is tell me what you liked about the fic! I have a praise kink, babes. I had TOO much fun writing this and you will not hurt my feelings if you don't want to read this one. However, I must tag to keep my taglist updated. Forgive me, my loves. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Terry

Terry sat in the office breakroom stirring his tea while it steeped. He had your file spread out on the small round table as he went over it one last time before your appointment today. Though, it remained a mystery if you’d actually show.

For the past week, he had been pouring over your file backwards and forwards trying to glean what you weren’t saying. What you were holding yourself back from saying. He didn’t usually like to bad mouth his professional colleagues, but their notes were sloppy; and that was putting it mildly. 

Terry rolled the tea bag around the spoon to squeeze excess water out and then placed it on the napkin beside his mug. He sighed and stretched, stuck too long already in one position. 

It was clear that he couldn’t bully you into opening up. That wasn’t what you needed. You were already on the precipice. So much of your insights were spot on. You didn’t really need him, but you needed a guide. Someone to mentor you or mold you…no, that wasn’t it.

Terry scratched out the word on the notebook he started for you. It’s not molding you, you already have a strong foundation. You weren’t putty for someone to play with. You were more resilient, more open, more determined. 

So if not mold…Terry rubbed his short goatee and adjusted himself on the orange plastic chair. He thought a change of scenery would help give him an attack plan. A way to approach your next session, but he was at a loss. He was uncomfortable in these cheap ass seats, for starters. And the ideas weren’t coming in the quiet, rigidly styled break room.

It was like playing wack-a-mole with you. Every method he thought of, you shot down. Every time he thought he had a way into that pretty head of yours, you switched gears. It was challenging and frustrating and exciting as hell. 

His pen hovered over the notebook, full of crossed out words and methodologies he could try. And for the first time in a long while, his mind was blank. He had nothing. How did he combat nine therapists and a woman hell-bent on doing everything herself? 

“Hey, Dr. Richmond! Funny seeing you here!” Dr. Crawford waltzed into the breakroom and opened the nearest teak cabinet. He pulled down a mug that proclaimed him as the best dad ever and he hummed to himself as he poured himself some coffee. 

Terry eyed the older man with a bushy mustache but a “dad” demeanor. He treated everyone kindly and he came highly recommended for good reason. He seemed to zero in on everyone’s problems like he had a nose for it. 

“Dr. Crawford. I’d actually like your help with something,” Terry said.

“Me? Oh, cool. Cool,” Dr. Crawford paused as if he were a deer caught in headlights. Regaining himself, he patted down his army green button up and approached Terry’s table. 

Terry flipped your file closed and made more space for Dr. Crawford. The older man sat down with a quiet huff and sipped loudly at his coffee. Terry hoped his face didn’t reveal his disgust, but the man was a good guy. Just a bit odd. 

“What’s on your mind?” Dr. Crawford asked, placing his mug down on the table. 

Terry rubbed his hands while he thought over how to approach his question without coming off like a creep. His feelings for you were strictly professional. Okay, maybe not strictly but Crawford didn’t need to know that.

“I have a female patient, difficulty achieving climax, well-researched, with issues with control. We’ve had two sessions so far and usually I’d wait for more data, but at the moment, she’s been through nine therapists,” Terry said.

“Nine?” Dr. Crawford asked.

Terry smirked and nodded. “Nine. She’s committed to the process and seems willing to try new things, but I’m concerned that I can’t find my baseline with her. She’s been through so many therapists, she’s done copious research on her own, like…how do I compete with that?” Terry asked. 

Dr. Crawford took a few sips of his mug and stared out of the windows towards the cityscape. “Nine therapists, you say? And no one’s helped her?” Dr. Crawford’s bushy mustache moved with his frown. 

Terry fought off a smile. Dr. Crawford hadn’t even met you and he was reaching conclusions faster than Terry. Nine therapists was a lot for anyone to not find any kind of solution. 

“I ask probing questions, I’ve given her some things to think over, but it’s only going to work if she’s willing to do all of it,” he said. 

“My advice? Start from the beginning. Find a way for her to trust you. If she’s been through nine therapists, I imagine they’ve done everything under the sun already. And if she’s as well-read as you say, you better come up with something better before she’s on to number eleven,” Dr. Crawford said. 

Terry chuckled. “Right, because she’s done it all, said it all…”

“And yet no one’s gotten to the core of the issue. You can talk solutions all day long but if you don’t know what the hell you’re treating, you’re just wasting her time,” Dr. Crawford said and knocked on the table. “It’s not competing against the others. It’s erasing them completely.”

Terry mulled that over as he took some notes. He liked that. It wasn’t molding you, more like shaping you. Stripping away all the misconceptions and untruths and whatever it was that you’ve read thus far. Everything your previous therapists had tried. His job was to uncover who you truly were.

Reveal…uncover…sculpt…that was it. He was merely helping you sculpt the woman begging to be let out. You were a sexual goddess trapped in marble. You were already there, just unpolished. He had to chisel his way there, not jackhammer it. You didn’t need kid gloves but you needed more finesse. 

Terry smirked as his pen scratched against his notepad, jotting down idea after idea. He hoped you showed. He hoped you took a chance on him and let him help you. Let him be your tenth and final therapist. And then release you to whatever bum caught your eye. 

“This is incredibly helpful, thank you Dr. Crawford,” Terry said. He threw away his trash and then gathered his tea, your file, and your notebook. 

Dr. Crawford’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, his neck turning cherry red. “Oh, I’m sure you would’ve gotten there without me,” he said with a wave. 

“I’m sure I wouldn’t have. See you around,” Terry said, tapping Dr. Crawford on the back. Talking to him reminded Terry of his own father. A tall, imposing man who was larger than life yet nothing but a gentle giant. 

Terry exited the break room and steamrolled down the bland, drab hallway towards his office. His mind filled with more ideas than he knew what to do with. New things to try. New things to explore. If you let him, he would show you exactly what you needed. 

He rounded the corner in time to see you step back from his office door. He stopped in his tracks and watched you for a moment, watched your unguarded expression as you hovered. You were dressed in dark jeans and a red sweatshirt, a small purse over your shoulder, and you clutched your journal against your chest. Your hair was neatly styled and it fit you. 

Many expressions played across your sweet face. You had a tilt to your head and a lilt to your mouth. He would pay top dollar to know what you were thinking. What mental battle you waged inside. Or whether or not you’d knock on the door.

&&&

You

You sighed and rubbed your head. You had been debating if you would attend today’s appointment or not. You felt less than grown up storming out of his office. He must’ve thought you were the biggest goof in the world. 

You fought yourself the entire ride over, constantly looking at every corner as an opportunity to escape. To flee. But you kept passing it up because each corner also tasted terribly like defeat. 

In two sessions, Dr. Richmond had you re-thinking everything. Besides being drop dead gorgeous, he had a big brain to back it up. And damn if it wasn’t working. You wanted more. You wanted to explore everything about yourself. 

Living in your body was painful. But god, you felt so alive. The numbness receded with each passing day as you practiced. You needed to see it through. So with a rumbling gut and sweaty palms, you forced yourself to stay on the road and attend your appointment.

You sighed. This was going to be fucking painful. You raised your hand to knock when soft footfalls sounded behind you.

“No need,” Dr. Richmond said. 

You turned to your right to see him come to a complete stop in front of you. Sugar Honey Iced Tea, he was dreamy. He wore a tan colored long sleeved T-shirt and dark navy pants. The sleeves were rolled on his forearm, veins poking out in his deep almond skin, peeks of tattoos, and he held a mug in his hand. His other hand clutched a notebook and a thick file. Your file. 

You looked from it to his hands to his forearms. Your eyes pinged everywhere on him but his face. Dr. Richmond cleared his throat and tilted his head.

You pinched your lips together and smiled, your eyes crinkling at being caught staring. “Dr. Richmond, great - uh - good to see you,” you said. God, if you listening, strike now, please. Please. Please? 

“I’m glad you’re here. I feared I would’ve been alone for the next hour,” he said. 

You sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I was definitely debating. But I said I was committed, and I meant it,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond nodded and then waved his hand forward. You opened the door and held it open for him to enter behind you. You practically skipped to the couch and stood awkwardly in front of it. You held onto your journal but threw your purse on the coffee table.

You watched as Dr. Richmond deposited the mug, notebook, and your file on his desk. You watched the long length of his body, drooling at the fluid way he moved. He must live in the gym or something.

His shirt hinted at a rock hard body, but you wanted to see more. And that was totally the wrong thing to think about your sex therapist. You huffed and looked away from him, up towards the ceiling. 

There should be a law against attractive authority figures. He should be banned from the profession. Retire and go on somewhere. 

The door closed behind you and you jumped. “Would you like it open?” Dr. Richmond asked.

“Nope, I’m good,” you said. You turned to him and gave him a wide smile. “I’m just nervous.”

Dr. Richmond smiled and put his hand in his pocket. “There’s no reason to be nervous. You’re in charge here, remember that,” he said.

You nodded and watched as he crossed the room. Instead of going towards his chair, he perched next to the desk and faced you. “Before we get started, I want to clear the air. I didn’t mean to push you so hard. I approached our session wrong and I apologize,” he said. 

“In what way?” You asked. 

“I assumed that with so many therapists that you didn’t need the song and dance. That you didn’t need the introductory session,” he said.

“No, that was right. I need a push. I know I have more issues to work through than I thought. And so far, everyone’s just been coddling me. Treating me like what I’m feeling is in my head. And I spend all my life in this motherfucker. I know it’s not in my head. Sorry for saying motherfucker,” you said and smirked. 

Dr. Richmond rocked back on his heels and matched your smirk. He nodded his head. “Then we can both move forward together,” he said. He moved around his desk and then sat in his high backed chair. He pulled the mug towards him and blew on the steaming mug. 

His lips should not look so damn kissable. Lush and pink, he had big sexy lips that just made you want to kiss forever. He was a work of art made real. He took a sip from his cup and then pulled the notebook and your file closer. 

“Have you been keeping up with your homework?” He asked.

You nodded. “Yup. Living in my body. Feeling my feelings. Admiring myself,” you said. You finally felt calm enough to sit down on the couch. You stared at the Lego set in the zen garden and shook your head. 

“And?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes and opened your journal and flipped to the pre-appointment jitters. You listed main points that you didn’t mind sharing with him. You told him all about what experiencing living your body felt like. 

It was scary and there were times that you slipped back into your head without realizing it. Zoning back in was always painful, like stepping into the sun after sitting for a three hour movie. You talked about how strange it was to feel like you had been asleep all this time, pushing everything to the back of your mind.

Later, later, another time, when you weren’t so busy. But you were always busy. Always running and moving and thinking and stressing. 

“That must be exhausting,” he chimed in. 

“You have no idea,” you said. Your shoulders dropped from around your shoulders and you mentally groaned. This was going to turn into your Sisyphus. You were going to kick that healing rock up the mountain and just when you thought you’d finally make it, you’d just go tumbling back down. Hope, you fickle bitch. 

You and hope had a toxic codependent relationship. It didn’t really fuck with you like that, but you kept letting it back in your heart. 

“Where do you think this need to cut yourself down before someone else does come from?” Dr. Richmond asked.

You fanned yourself and gaped at him. “Buy me dinner first at least, Dr. Richmond,” you said. You shared a laugh with him and shook your head. “So I wouldn’t be disappointed with my parents when they didn’t give me the reaction I wanted for my accomplishments.” 

Dr. Richmond leaned forward, his eyebrow shooting up above the golden rim of his glasses. “You really do over-analyze yourself,” he said.

You shrugged. “It’s a compulsion. If I don’t, the world burns,” you said softly. Your eyes pricked with tears but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. You weren’t going to shy from this. You weren’t going to disappear into your mind. 

Dr. Richmond took another sip of his mug but to his credit, he didn’t write anything down. That would have somehow been embarrassing. You waited while he sat there and you busied yourself with picking at your nails. 

“We need a fresh start,” Dr. Richmond said. He picked up your file and then opened a drawer. He dropped the folder and the metal popped with the weight. He closed the drawer and then faced you. 

“I’m not your tenth therapist. I’m your first. If you let me, I’m going to help you achieve what you want. You’re going to find sexual satisfaction whenever you want. Whether that’s alone or with a partner,” he said. 

“That’s what I want,” you said.

He nodded and then gripped his mug but he didn’t bring it to his lips. “You said if you didn’t over-analyze yourself, the world would burn. Do you believe the world will literally burn or do you just think something bad will happen?” 

You rubbed your sweaty palms on your jeans and scooted forward on the couch. “Rationally, I know that’s impossible. But irrationally? I’ve never been brave enough to test it,” you said. 

Your mind spun at a thousand hertz per second. It never shut up. Never stopped rolling. Never stopped running. Never stopped with the constant chatter in your mind. You didn’t know what would happen if you had a calm mind. The only time you got some semblance of relief was when you were high.

And even then, your mind was still running in the background. Popping up with new tabs constantly. Because if the chatter stopped, you’d have to face the silence. And you just didn’t know how you’d act. Or if the world would burn. All you knew was that your mind kept spinning and so did the world. 

“Tell me about how you were treated as a teen. How did your parents treat you and how did your peers at school treat you?” He asked.

You giggled. “Okay, if not dinner, then ice cream? I’m a simple cookies n’ cream girly,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond chuckled. “Jokes are just a way to procrastinate,” he said. Goodness that voice. That subtle twang in the back of his throat that hinted of a Southern background. 

You huffed and leaned back on the couch. No one said healing was easy. So you told him. You told him about your over-analytical helicopter parents who were so fearful of something happening to you that they placed you in an invisible bubble. 

They had to know where you were at all times, they had to know your friend’s parents and have them on speed dial, they asked after your every move, and you asked permission before even thinking about going in the fridge. 

You had to become hypervigilant and pick up on cues that your mother was going to grow a second head from all her yelling. You never knew when she would give you a kiss on the cheek or yell at you for no reason. You had to scan her face for microexpressions, trying to gauge which way the wind would blow with her. 

As for your friends…they were cool for what you had at the time. You were no longer friends with them as they’d moved on and left you in the dust. But at the time, any little weird thing you did they poked fun at. And if it wasn’t them, it was the boys in your class. As if you couldn’t step a toe out of line without someone pointing it out for everyone to hear. 

If you jumped onto a chair, then people would turn and stare. If you waved your hands, there were three people there to call you weird. And if you joked and sung badly on purpose, people thought you were serious and made fun of you for being tone deaf.

You tried on plenty of personalities throughout the years, trying to mix and match what people expected of you. You eventually grew comfortable with being weird but that hypervigilance never left you. 

“Would you say you feel safe to be yourself at all?” Dr. Richmond asked. 

You twisted your lips and shook your head. “I wouldn’t know what that is. My mom read my diary once and I never wrote anything down ever again. Until you gave me my homework,” you said. 

&&&

Terry 

You just…listened so well. He knew now that it was a product of your upbringing, being the child who was only seen and never heard. Marching to hundreds of orders given by your overbearing mother and absent in spirit father. 

Add onto that that your peers at school treated you as if there was something wrong with you, it was impossible for you to become comfortable. To achieve safety of mind and body. Who could explore themselves like that? When so many conspired to convince you that you weren’t a person deserving of grace? 

Terry took a sip of his mug and watched you deflate further. Like every truth you kept trapped inside was what kept you animated and full. Without it… 

Terry stood up and rounded his desk, somehow needing the boundary out of the way. Maybe he’d sit in the other chair opposite the table from you from now on. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. 

Fuck. You never even had a chance. He prayed that you hadn’t been abused or hurt by anyone ever. It was a miracle that you didn’t have a string of abusive ex-boyfriends or a thicker medical file in a hospital somewhere. Sweet, open women like you deserved to be cared for. Protected. 

You were a sub in more ways that you realized. And his fondness for you, his attraction, only grew with each session. How? How would he let you go when you graduated from his help? 

“I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to really think before you answer,” he said. He replaced his glasses on his face and tilted his head forward to emphasize his point. This was a hard question but it needed to be asked. 

You leaned forward, clutched your journal to your chest, and pinched your lips. But you nodded and mimed zipping your mouth. 

“Who said they were right?” He asked.

He watched as your face smoothed out to an adorable blank. Your mouth flattened as you looked at him. Again, he wished more than anything to know what you were thinking. What questions raced in your mind. 

He grew concerned when you continued to stare without saying a word. But he didn’t interrupt. He wanted to see where you took it. What you would do. So as you stared, he stared. 

He took in your sweet, rounded features. Your adorably styled hair. The red in your sweatshirt highlighted your beautiful brown skin. You finally took a deep breath and then stared up at the ceiling.

“In all my life, no one has ever asked me that,” you said. You brought your hands to your eyes and swiped at them. You needed to let them fall but he wasn’t going to push you on that right now. 

You stood up and then rubbed your forehead as you paced back and forth. He continued to watch you self-soothe right before his eyes. He wondered if you were conscious of that too. Did you miss anything? 

“And…people just accept it when everyone seems to agree that you’re uncool or weird or whatever, ‘cause of what you said about the group thing. People want to fit in and belong but…no one died and made them the fucking authority on what’s cool. No one put them in charge and they’re not the popular police,” you said as you continued to pace like a ping pong ball. 

“Misery loves company. Hurt people hurt people. However you wanna spin it, nothing brings people closer together than hating the same thing or same person. There’s a sense of validation when people agree with you. And people think mob mentality only applies to bad situations, but it applies everywhere. Because there’s safety in numbers, people would rather go with the flow than be singled out.” 

You threw up your hands. “Why didn’t I learn this years ago? And now I just feel stupid for it never even occurred to me that they weren’t right,” you said. You sat down on the couch with a huff. 

Terry put his hands in his pockets and smirked. He glanced at the clock. He didn’t have you for much longer. He flexed his jaw at the thought. What he wouldn’t give. 

“You shouldn’t feel stupid. Think about what kind of environment you were raised in and continue to live in. You had to be aware to avoid danger. To avoid being singled out. You had to adapt to survive. That takes courage and bravery. You did what you had to do to survive and that’s all anyone is doing.

“But you don’t have to just survive anymore. You get to choose. You get to choose right here and now to live. Live with your whole body because you are here, you are perceivable, you matter, and you can take up space and the world will be fine,” he said. 

Tears swimmed in your eyes and you stood up to face away from him. You faced the window and your shoulders shook. You gripped yourself in a low hug, not making a single sound. 

Terry moved to his desk to grab the box of tissues silently. He made noise so that you knew he was approaching and he placed the box on the end table under the window. You turned your body from him but grabbed a tissue and swiped at your eyes. 

The only sounds he heard was the tick of the clock on the wall and your random sniffles. The shake in your shoulders subsided bit by bit until you looked up at the ceiling. 

Terry remained close by so that you knew you weren’t alone.

&&&

You

Fuck, you felt like a fucking idiot. All these years. Nine fucking therapists. Shitty boyfriend after shitty boyfriend. Your mother’s latest tirade and your father’s empty shrug. All for this man to ask you the one question that shook you to your core. 

Who said they were right? Who said? Who gave them the right to make you think that there was something wrong with you? That your very existence was a plight on the world and it’d be better if you weren’t there? 

Who fucking said? 

It was all so simple and yet complicated. You hung your sense of safety on the need to “do the right thing at the right time”. If you did something “normal”, then no one could make fun of you, and you passed through another day fooling everyone with your disguise. 

And fuck! Wasn’t that freeing? Your chest ached and your eyes pricked with unshed tears, but it was already embarrassing that Dr. Richmond witnessed you crying. You liked to reserve that for sappy, cheesy romance movies on Netflix. 

Your heart felt heavy, weighing down your chest to a near uncomfortable level. You knew you needed to release all of it but not now. Not after only three sessions with this man. 

Who was he? Why was he like this? Where the fuck did he come from? 

“I see why they pay you the big bucks now,” you said, wiping at a tear that dared escape your eye. And you had a random ache in your belly? Feelings were weird. And sticky. Like constantly stepping on glue traps plastered all over the kitchen floor. 

“Why did you place so much bearing on their opinions?” Dr. Richmond asked. You liked that he had stayed close by while you broke apart. It was so rare that you did it in front of others. You were glad that he wasn’t the hugging type. Or the one who filled the room with hot air about how much it was needed and you should let go. 

“Because I don’t want to be alone forever. I want proof that I mattered to someone,” you whispered. You sniffled but held back the tears. You blinked a few times and held firm. Later.

“How can you matter to anyone if you don’t matter to yourself?” Dr. Richmond asked softly. 

The clock ticked in the background and you glanced at the clock. You were a little over your session and you were thankful that the next person hadn’t barged in. You wiped your face once more and then turned to Dr. Richmond.

He stood with his hands in his pockets and a kind smile on his face. His biggest strength was that he was unassuming despite his size. He knew when to use it to his advantage and when to switch it off. He was in tune with those around him and it was rare to find a man with a calming aura. 

“I matter to myself but probably not as much as I think,” you said. “I’ll work on that too.” 

Dr. Richmond nodded. “Your homework is to practice loving yourself. Speak kind words, think nice things about yourself, and remember that your brain is a big ass liar,” he said.

You giggled and ducked your head. “Alright, alright. I’ll be nicer to myself. You missed your calling as a mind reader, Dr. Richmond,” you said. You grabbed your journal and purse from the couch and coffee table and then exited the room, feeling way lighter than when you went in.

Wheww! Need some more? The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1 | Part 2

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[navybrat817]

How often does Dad!Bucky get hit on when he's in the baby aisle grabbing diapers?

A lot, Cia! And you get to see it one day.

The Dad Diaries: Diaper Aisle

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You witness a woman flirting with Bucky, but you don't react the way you expect. Word Count: Almost 1.2k Warnings: Fluff, flirting, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), parenthood, random woman thirsty for Bucky (we get it), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Next part of The Dad Diaries and from your perspective. Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky doesn’t like to make a big deal out of people flirting with him. For starters, he’s a married man and has made it clear that he has no intention of ever stepping out on you. He would never. You are his wife and soulmate, the love of his life, and the mother of his child. You’re all he needs.

Second, he’s unassuming. You tell him regularly how handsome he is, but he isn’t arrogant about his looks and doesn’t think every woman who looks his way has the intention of hitting on him. He may give a polite smile or nod if he catches someone staring, but will immediately divert his attention back to the task at hand, such as getting those diapers for Jamie.

Fatherhood is sexy on him.

“Your Dada is amazing,” you say to Jamie as you wait beside your cart for Bucky to grab the box.

You smile to yourself when a woman nearly runs her cart into the shelving when Bucky walks past. Not that you blame her for staring. With his luscious locks flowing free, his worn jean jacket fitting like it was made for him, and the sweatpants leaving little to the imagination, you would’ve gawked at him, too.

Which you did earlier and were now.

“Excuse me,” the woman calls out loudly, making Bucky pause as he puts the box under his arm. “So sorry to bother you, but would you mind grabbing a jar for me off the top shelf? I would really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he says, giving you a small smile from across the aisle as he goes to help the woman.

You wait patiently as the lady thanks him with a grin. You get why she wants Bucky close by. Beyond his overall gorgeousness and kindness, he displays a responsible side of himself when he walks through the baby aisle. He never carries himself in a way that says he’s annoyed or inconvenienced by being there. Carefully selecting the diapers and anything else needed shows how attentive he is. And responsible.

You understand the appeal.

Though, you do wish the lady would stop undressing your husband with her eyes. You practically hear her inhale when he’s close enough. He does smell good, but does she have to step into his space?

“This one?” Bucky asks.

The woman has to blink a few times before she responds. “Oh, sorry. The one next to it. You really are too kind,” she answers, sweeping her gaze over him from head to toe as he reaches over for another jar. You have to bite the inside of your cheek when she takes it from his hand. “It’s too bad you can’t help me bring this stuff in when I get home.”

Yeah, it is too bad.

Clearing his throat, Bucky nods in your direction. “Well, my son might miss me if I’m away for too long. And I’ll miss him and my wife.”

The woman goes rigid as she looks your way. “Your wife?”

Bucky smiles from ear to ear when you wave. “Yeah, my wife,” he proudly states, making your heart skip a beat.

Any jealousy or bad feeling you have slips away when you see some of the light leave the woman’s eyes and the sag in her shoulders. It’s almost like seeing her in a different light because you know how you’ve felt since giving birth. At times, you feel less attractive than normal, that your body won’t be the way it used to be. You wonder if Bucky still wants you.

And you want to be seen.

While you don’t know her story, you understand the need to feel wanted and desired. It doesn’t go away when you become a mother. You don’t even know if she is a mother or if she’s in the aisle shopping for a sister, friend, or someone else. Maybe her partner isn’t giving her the attention she needs. Maybe she isn’t with anyone.

Maybe she just needed a win today.

“Take care,” Bucky says politely before he walks toward you, leaving the woman alone to stare after him. “Anything else we need?” He asks once he puts the diapers on the bottom of the cart, giving Jamie a small tickle and making all three of you smile.

“I think we’re good,” you say, glancing down the aisle. You could grab Bucky’s hand and stake your claim as the woman makes eye contact with you, but you give her a small nod and a sympathetic smile instead before you push the cart away. “That was nice of you to help her,” you say once you’re out of sight.

Bucky raises an eyebrow as he glances your way. “I don’t usually say this outright, but I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.”

“Oh, she was,” you agree.

“Does that bother you?” He asks, brushing a kiss to your temple and making your heart race.

You shake your head as you think about it. “It did at first because it’s only natural to feel that way, but it went away pretty quickly. I have no reason to feel jealous or defensive. If it would’ve been bad or crossed a line, I would’ve stepped in. But you proudly proclaimed that I’m your wife and she backed off right away. And I know you’re coming home with Jamie and I, so why would I let it bother me?” you explain, spotting something soft in his gaze.

Like he’s amazed by you.

“That makes sense,” he says.

“I can only hope that someone like you comes along for her,” you add, your heart going out to the stranger.

The blue of Bucky’s eyes shine a bit brighter when you catch his gaze. “I love you,” he says so tenderly that you feel butterflies in your stomach and heart.

“I love you, too,” you promise before you nudge him. “And you know what? I don’t fault her at all. You know what wearing those pants does to people. It’s like some sort of sexy magic.”

His nose crinkles as he laughs, the sound making a few turn their heads. Once again, you don’t blame them for gawking. “Did you just say ‘sexy magic’ in front of our son? Is that why you like these pants?”

“Oh, yeah. You put a spell on me,” you smirk before you smile gently at your son. “And I’m very lucky for that because now I have you.”

You don’t know it yet, but Bucky will write in his diary to Jamie about how you handled yourself today. How you could’ve stormed over and grabbed him or made a snide comment to the woman, but you didn’t. And that if you felt jealous, even for a moment, you didn’t let it cloud your judgement. You know when to observe and when you need to step in. You know when to lead with your heart.

Just one of the many reasons Bucky Barnes considers himself lucky to call you his wife and the mother of his child.

And no matter how many times he gets hit on in the diaper aisle, he’ll always come home to you.

I adore this family. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[nothomegal]

HIII I MISS YOU :(( straight to the point, I need a yandere pyramid head fic!!

I´m sorry for the disappearance ;v; Can't post much due my studies.

Anyways, I ADORE your suggestion! And boy if our little (Y/N) is going to have a rough time with a yandere creature like Pyramid Head ._.)

Welp, let's start the story!

"Innocent lamb"

(Yandere!Pyramid Head x GN Reader)

Summary: the entity's realm was hell for some, heaven for others, and an inconvenience for the rest... But when one of the creatures encountered you, he made it everyone's problem, even the entity's that brough him there in the first place. But he meant no harm to you. He likes you. He wants you. He needs you. And he wͦ̀ͯi̸ll̩ͩ have Y̛̗̰͇͚͓͈̣͕̰͓̗͛ͤ̀̇̍ͥ͒̓͝Ơ̵̔_̰̅U̵̷̡̧̡̨͖̟̹͙̙͓̥̗̫̣̙͉͕͉̣̬̇ͭ͗̉͂̅̍͗̇̇́́̈͟͞

Warnings: yandere/obsessive behavior, violence and violent acts, quite angst(y) mood in general, (understandably) terrified reader darling :(.

Word count: 4.2k

The moment they entered the trial, all four survivors knew right away who the killer was. Either its the dread they all felt as soon as their feet made contact with the ground that gave it away, or the fact that the entity had placed all of them in the same spot next to two generators just to have any chances to make it out alive.

But they know it's in vain, they know they're doomed for a long long death by bleeding out.

They know it... Because (Y/N) is with them.

Said survivor had to bite their lip to avoid crying, as guilt and terror embraced them. Just because the monster had this unholy obsession with them it didn't mean they were okay with it, if anything it scared them more.

He, Pyramid Head, the Executioner... Or however you want to nickname him, is said to be one of the most powerful creatures the entity had the pleasure to bring, so powerful in fact that the spider-like being had to make a deal to bring him.

So it's not surprising that they are absolutely horrified, but who wouldn't? This monster, an embodiment of pain and punishment, almost a god, has been hunting them relentlessly ever since he laid his gaze or... Helmet? On them.

At first it was all jokes and gags;

'Aww look, (Y/N) has a boyfriend!'

'Watch out, here comes your crush (Y/N)!'

'Uh-oh, the triangle man seems jealous, look how pissed he is at Nea for healing you!'.

But the jokes stopped when it got clear how truly messed up and sinister said 'crush' is.

They still remember it, it was a regular match against that one masked knife wielding guy that runs a lot, he's called 'Legion' they think. The trial was going relatively well, just like many previous ones. Until it suddenly got an 180° turn when one of the walls to the realm was literally destroyed by a hulking mass of muscle and a giant knife. To say both (Y/N) and the killer nearly had a cardiac arrest was an understatement, things got so ugly that the entity had to intervene and cut the trial short.

That incident could be a fuel for a new wave of jokes, could... If it didn't happen again. And that next time was even worse, the beast nearly made his way into the survivor side of the realm, somehow bursting through the barrier the entity had created to keep the survivors separated from the killers to avoid any pity fights after trials.

Ever since that event, Pyramid Head was strictly kept in 'his' realm, aka Midwich Elementary School.

Sometimes, after escaping through the gates and running back into the camp through the fog, (Y/N) could swear they can hear the monster roar in the distance. Loud, distorted and fierce howls resonating somewhere behind the dense fog, as if the creature was desperately trying to yell out their name. Either to let them know how badly he wants them or a promise to break free and get them... Both possibilities giving them chills.

The entity of course wasn't okay with this, it was pissed! But it also could do so little... The great deal now had turned into a major curse. If the deal is broken, the Executioner won't hesitate to damage the realm to get what he wants. But if it remains, the monster will find new ways to bend the rules and make it everyone's problem.

Why the entity doesn't just give (Y/N) to the beast or gets rid of them ones for all? No one really has the answer. Some think it's due the entity's pride, or the possibility of the executioner going ballistic. For now, it's more of a silent (and petty) battle between two stubborn beings, each of them refusing to back away from their goal.

Goal. The entity's goal, though still confusing, is more or less clear; force people and creatures to play these twisted games and feed on those who get sacrificed. But the executioner's goal? It's straight up a mystery. (Y/N) know it has something to do with them, but... Why them exactly? Why not Cheryl? Didn't she come from the same place as that beast? What the monster even wants them for?

What will he do when he finally gets his hands on them? Wh-

A rough shake snapped (Y/N) out of their internal break down.

They blink a couple of times, tears of fear nearly sliding down their cheeks as their body shivers. They were scared, more than the other three survivors combined.

The survivor holding them by their shoulders, David, sighs when he finally notices them react.

—"Look, I know you're scared..."— he starts talking, his voice surprisingly calm.

—"I'm-... I- I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry-..."— you choke out in a weak wobbly voice, guilt eating you from inside.

—"No no. Just listen for a sec. I... Well, we all can tell that you aren't enjoying it neither. So, let's not break down into a soap opera, okay? Don’t think of this as hopeless match, but as another chance to woop that asshole's ass and escape."—

—"And also leave him empty handed!"— Feng announces from her place while already working on a generator.

—"Yeah, screw that triangular piece of shit! Let's try out Dwight's strategy this time. You remember it, do you?"— he asks you, not letting go of your shoulders yet.

The surprisingly positive and reassuring words of their teammates towards them really soothed and even cheered (Y/N) a bit. With a small smile they quickly wipe their eyes before nodding.

—"Good, see? We're already starting on a good note!"— he lets go to then pat your back, basically pushing you forward. —"Now go help with a gen before putting the 'plan' into work."—

Though the push hurt a bit, (Y/N) didn't care at all about the pain, too focused on keepings all the negative and pessimistic thoughts away.

For the first minute and a half everything was going well, (Y/N) and Feng were working on one generator while David and Jonah were working on the other one. The four of them were dead silent, straining their ears for any of the sounds the creature makes, such as heavy footsteps, the scraping of his gigantic knife or their own heartbeat. Weirdly enough, everything was calm... Too calm.

(Y/N) nearly choked with air when a cold chill ran through their spine.

Spine Chill. The beast... Is watching them.

They attempt to subtly alert Feng by carefully tapping her leg, but as soon as their fingertips touched the other girl’s skin, their heartbeat started to get louder and louder, until…

—“WATCH OUT!”—

(Y/N) exclaimed as they pushed Feng, just in time to dodge a bunch of sharp and rusted metal pieces coming out the ground.

—“Holy-...”— she mutters.

Now that the monster is here, the four survivors decided to put in action the mentioned strategy.

They all let go of the generators and run away in different directions, (Y/N) being the most desperate while running since they know exactly who the beast is targeting.

His pattern is always the same; chase after until sending them into a cage to then down all of their teammates and then come straight back to all caged and helpless (Y/N) and then… Stare or touch them until the others bleed out or the entity has enough.

The difference in the current case, is that (Y/N) is not playing just cat and mouse. In fact, chasing them is the worst the killer can do. All of their abilities are chase oriented, another teammate lurking around has all the boon ones, while the last two have all is needed to rush through the generators. If everything works out, the monster will get himself in a situation where he's be forced to leave (Y/N) alone.

The chase was intense, at least for (Y/N). Despite never catching a clear view of the Executioner, they could feel him close behind, following them methodically like a wild animal on a hunt, waiting for the right moment to strike while keeping up the tension.

It was hard to maintain the focus, every single hallways in The Game looked the exact same. Did they vaulted that window already? Didn't they pre-dropped that palled over there? Did Feng placed it up again? Are the other two working on the generators? Have they taken this left path before?

So many questions where swarming their mind as their legs kept carrying them on, only momentarily relaxing when two generators finally made that distinguish noise.

Two done! Tree left.

A breathless laugh escaped from them. Great! This is already going better than all of their previous encounters with the Executioner, which would always end with the first generator barely reaching 30%.

However, their smile was quickly swept when they realized they no longer hear their heartbeat or thundering footsteps tailing behind. It was silent, dead silent, with no other sounds that their own breathing.

A wave of anxiety flushed through (Y/N) like a tsunami wave and started to drag and drown them deeper into their own worries.

What the?... Okay, this was not part of the plan. The Executioner had never left the chase with them, never. So the fact that he finally did, and apparently a while ago, made them shake.

With nothing else to do, they gather the courage to start moving again. Where? Somewhere! Anywhere but to stay in place and be an easy target to the beast that so desperately wants them.

They keep running, stopping only for a brief moment before turning a corner, making sure they don't hear any muffled breathing that at times resembled growls. They learned the hard way with the Shape that some killers like to wait around corners, and they don't want to commit the same mistake right now.

Their heart jerked when they heard a scream resonate from their left, and a faint reddish aura in the shape of a human gleamed for a second before disappearing.

David is down.

And it seems like he's not getting picked up, which could either mean that the monster is setting up a trap or chasing someone else. Whichever the case is, they shouldn't go-

They hear a bunch of footsteps come their way, and in a set of panic they crouch behind a bunch of boxes, silently praying that their disguise is mildly good.

They can't see much from their spot, but they can clearly recognize the shape of Jonah running away from something massive.

As soon as the two figures passed by, (Y/N) gets up and takes off running towards David to check on him.

After some wondering around the labyrinth-like place, they finally reach their injured teammate, who was still on the ground and groaning from pain.

—"{David!}"— you whisper-yell as you start running towards him.

He weakly lifts his head just enough to see them. When he recognized who it is, he starts to frantically shake his head.

—"NO! GET THE FUCK OUT!"—

Huh? What-

As (Y/N) is about to reach David, a path of sharp metal pieces and razor wires had emerged right in front of them, just when they're about to make contact with the floor again, making in impossible to dodge.

The second their leg got tangled into the sharp metallic mess, everything went too fast. They don't even have time to pull away as something sliced them on their side, sending them directly on the ground.

They send a guilty and ashamed glance to David, who had an frustrated expression.

—"{Sorry...}"— you mouth.

(Y/N) has no chance to see David's answer as a massive hand suddenly curled around their throat and forced them to look away from the other man.

Their eyes wide at the sight of the beast menacingly hovering over their helpless form, holding their body in place between him and the ground. The muscles of his extended arm were tense, his breathing heavy, almost like he's holding back the anger and displeasure caused by them giving attention to someone else.

Their heart skipped beats, their breath uneven, their eyes watered as they tightly closed them, not wanting to witness whatever this thing was about to do. They can feel the warmth coming from his body, his breathing slowly stabilizing, as if staring at them and watching them slowly submit was enough to calm the monster. Ironically, it did the complete opposite to (Y/N), as their own heartbeat raised from the anxiety of having to face the unknown, attempt to predict the unpredictable and prepare to witness another massacre unfold around them at any second... Just to then end up caged and at the mercy of this-

—"LEAVE THEM ALONE ASSHOLE!"— David angrily yells from his place, struggling and trying to stand up. —"You're fucking terrifying, of course they don't want to look at you!"—

They can feel Pyramid Head's hand tense and start shaking, his fingers twitching and pressing further into their skin. (Y/N) was beyond terrified now, just a little bit of pressure and the creature could crush their throat like a cardboard tube.

David, though clearly using all of his strength, ended up falling back on the ground, as if some invisible weigh is actively pushing him down.

—“You freak! Absolute sick fuck! Let them go already!”—

As the waterfall of profanities continues, (Y/N) slowly places their hands around the monster’s wrist to attempt to push his hand away, unfortunately he didn’t budge at all.

Suddenly, David’s stops screaming and the very next second (Y/N) feels something warm and slippery press against their cheek.

They jerk in place at the uncanny sensation and shoot open their eyes, a breathless gasp escaping them at the sight of a… Wh-What even is that? A freaking tentacle? A tongue?…

The dark pink muscle wiggles in front of their face for a moment before licking another stride, wiping some of their tears and blood in the process, making (Y/N) shiver in discomfort.

They shoot a confused glance to David, desperately wanting to know if he’s witnessing this too. The man had an expression of pure ‘what the fuck’; eyes narrowed, brows furrowed and mouth slightly gaping.

This eye contact was brief though. (Y/N) got startled for a loud growl that reverbed from the beast's chest and helmet. The hand finally leaves their throat as the beast stands up to his full height and starts making his way to David, leaving them alone, as well as his knife?

(Y/N) throws their teammate a scared look, but David responds with a forced smirk.

—"Ah, now you decide to drag your big ass towards me."— he mutters through gritted teeth.

The monster seem to not react to his taunts. With each step that he takes towards David, his mask of confidence seems to crack.

Nevertheless, the man didn’t back out from his insults, he never does.

—“What’s wrong? Why so pissy, huh?! Jealous that (Y/N) prefers us?!”—

Saying their name was a sore spot to hit, and the way Pyramid Head reacted confirmed that.

The monster roughly grabs David by the neck, completely ignoring the fact that he’s not even holding his weapon. Instead he uses his bare hands to silence him.

Nasty, wet and crunchy sounds resonated through the room and hallways as the creature began to tear the man’s body limb by limb, piece by peace, unbothered by the pained screams of his victim or the low groan of displeasure that resonated from above for again not playing by the rules.

(Y/N) froze in horror at the sight in front of them. Blood, chunks of flesh and bone pieces where flying everywhere, never before they’ve witnessed this type of gore, not even during the ‘mori’.

Though it felt like the massacre lasted hours, it was actually second. The monster threw the whatever remaining he had in his hands and slowly turned back to (Y/N), who was still frozen and unable to look away from what was left from David. They know they will meet again in the fire camp, in one piece and alive, but god they felt sick...

Their shock breaks only when the thundering footsteps began to resonate again, shaking the ground underneath them with each the creature took. He grew closer, and closer, with them being able to do absolutely nothing aside from attempting to crawl away.

But that pity attempt was stopped when the same sharp wires and rusty metal pieces emerged from the ground and wrapped around their body, pulling them slowly underneath and sinking them further into the ground. And before they realize it, their body is already trapped in that rotten metallic cage.

Cold metal spikes just inches away from their flesh, so close to penetrate their skin, a wrong move and they would undoubtedly get hurt. But even if they wanted to move, they couldn't really. The space in the structure was small, claustrophobic even, each spike perfectly adjusted to keep their form in place. In some twisted way, it felt like a hug, a very cold, unwelcoming and unnerving hug.

They flinch when they hear a scream resonate from somewhere, which was cut by a loud slam.

Feng was caught.

It seems like the Executioner didn't bother to down her, rather getting rid of her directly, most likely because he's aware that Jonah is not keen of going for rescues...

And speaking of the man, there is his aura flashing before (Y/N)'s eyes as his body fell on the floor.

He's down... Which means that-

Before they even finish their conclusion, the tall figure of the monster appeared. Just by looking at them his behavior seemed to change; movements more erratic and pace uneven, almost like he's hypnotized.

He makes his way to them, slowly, as if purposely building up the tension.

(Y/N) wanted to look away or close their eyes, but whenever they did so the cage felt painfully small. It hurt, literally, so they stare at that beast grow closer with wide shaky eyes that struggled to keep their focus on him. This is something Pyramid Head was always good at, he could always make you fear, even the toughest bravest ones would inevitably succumb to the terror his presence brings.

Ones in front of them, the creature stops in place and simply stares, like he always did.

(Y/N), though still scared, was a tiny bit relieved that this is what the rest of the trial would be; them being pinned like a butterfly with the monster observing.

It would be just that.

Just this bizarre staring contest.

...Right?

WRONG.

The creature suddenly let go of his weapon and grabs the edges of the cage with both hands quite violently.

Now the little hope and comfort (Y/N) had was thrown out the window, as now they realize they no longer have any idea of what will happen next.

And by what it looks like, the entity is not planning to intervene, as if curious itself to see what will happen next.

Pyramid Head remains like this, his big hands tightly squeezing the imperfect metal bars, bending them slightly and making the already miserable looking material groan from the pressure he was applying.

It looked like he wanted to destroy that cage, rip it apart and get to them, but didn't do it by holding himself back... Why? What's even the point of this build up? What's even the point in wanting them?!

—"{Wh-...Why?...}"— you choke out in a very quiet voice. —"{Why a-are you d-... doing this?...}"—

(Y/N) knows is stupid to ask, Pyramid Head can't even speak! But they can't help themselves, they're too scared, their anxiety is unbearable and their thoughts are too out of control. They need answers, anything that could even hint for a possible explanation of the killer's intentions.

They began to second guess their decision to speak when the creature froze in place, even his breath was now inaudible. This was the first time (Y/N) spoke directly to the monster, but they didn't expect him to react at this fact, not like this, or at all.

But he did, he did acknowledged that little detail, and he will make sure they acknowledge it too.

The creature soon moves again, by slowly leaning closer and slightly tilting his head to the side, almost like trying to get a better look at them.

His breathing got heavier, low huffs and growls resonating from that metallic helmet of his. It really looked like he was actively holding back some major urge or desire, but what it is?

(Y/N) wanted to ask again, but decided against it as there is little Pyramid Head could do to answer, and even if he could, why should he? Maybe it's more amusing to him to see them helplessly wondering in the dark and unable to comprehend what's going on.

Or maybe, there is simply nothing to explain?... Maybe he does what he does just because? Human mind is way too used to seek for reasons and explanations for anything and everything, often forgetting that sometimes the answer is way too simple or straight up null, could that be the case?

The same groan coming from the cage bars pulled (Y/N) out of their thoughts. They forget how to breathe at the sight of the structure slowly collapsing as the monster starts to rip the bars with his raw strength.

A scared yelp escaped them as they try to back further into the cage as much as they can, ignoring the sharp edges that scratched or pierced their body. They barely felt pain, none at all actually, the adrenaline and basic survival instincts keeping their body resilient and ready to run. The sad part is, is that there is nowhere to run, nothing to do. It's sweet that their body tries so desperately to keep their hopes up and reassure their survival, but their mind is more than aware of the cold desolated reality...

The front part of the cage was eventually ripped off and thrown against the floor violently. (Y/N) can only cover their eyes with their hands and quietly sob as they wait for whatever the monster had planned to do next.

Even when no further actions are made, they refuse to look. They no longer want to face this thing, they no longer want to suffer this torment. Regardless if they believed in any religion or no, they mutter silent prayers under their breath, but not no save them, but to make it end and to know how sorry they are for any evil or harm they've did in their life that leaded to such tragic conclusion.

But this is where the catch is... They've committed none. At least from the Executioner's perspective.

Despite their whispers being so silent to a non-existent point, Pyramid Head heard them loud and clear. And the more he heard their voice, the more he felt the inside of his chest burn and the desire for them grow even more. (Y/N) is not perfect, they're human after all, and all humans have their fair share of flaws and defects... But unlike the rest, (Y/N) has the ability to acknowledge said imperfections and genuinely try to make up for them, to fix them... Regardless if they get something in return or not.

This, this is the true purity in a human being. An innocence and kindness so genuine that it would be a sin not to worship and protect... And who is a best fit to take care of it other than the fearsome Pyramid Head?

(Y/N)... So pure... So innocent... So kind... He must keep them save.

He must keep them...

He wants them...

W̴͕̳͈͔̭̝͠ͅ a̶̩̰̲̎̓͊̈̓̕ ǹ̴̢͇̬̘̗̯̜̍̋͊͠͝͠ ṭ̶͇̃̔͝ s̶̭̩͔̹̝̼̅̍̆̉͌͝

As the monster is about to reach them, a spider like legs burst out through the floor and wrap themselves around (Y/N).

The trial... Is over.

And while the absolutely livid roar gets overshadowed by the groans of the entity as the black fog surrounds the whole place. (Y/N) only keeps quietly sobbing as they cling to the spider leg sticking out of their chest. And though they knew the entity is the main responsible of their current torment, they were too overwhelmed with emotions to properly process their actions.

Surprisingly, the spider-like being didn't disappear right away, probably feeling pity for their situation and allowing them to cry for a brief moment, most likely to compensate this unplanned mess they have to deal with.

To everyone's surprise in the camp, when (Y/N) finally arrived they where unconscious, either passed out after such emotional roller coaster or the entity wants them take some genuine rest. Whatever the case it, it didn't matter, what matters is that their fellow friend is back save and sound, right?

As one of the survivors decided to take them closer to the bonfire for warmth and comfort, they could swear they heard some weird noises from afar.

It resembled a demonic cry filler with rage, so distant yet menacing. Everyone instinctively shivered.

And though (Y/N) successfully 'survived' yet another trial with the executioner, almost everyone had the gut feeling that the next encounter they have with the beast, it will not end good...

They all take a glance at their still unconscious form.

Poor (Y/N)...

[natailiatulls07]

your charles x sister! reader fics are so cute! i love them so so so so so so much!! i was wondering if you could write one where charles and his teen! sister get in an argument (mostly his fault) and she’s ignoring him and he has to leave for a race before he can apologise and she still supports him but won’t talk to him and him making it up to her eventually pretty please! i love your work so much !!!

Charles Leclerc x Sister!reader

Summary - The request above :3

Warnings - Arguing and swearing

A/n - Thank you lovie! I feel like I haven't done Leclerc Sister fic in a long while so it's great to be back <3

Masterlist

-

Usually the week before a triple header, Charles likes to spend his free time around family. He feels like it gives him that chance to relax and get back into the right mindset. During this time the family would play board games, catch up on favourite tv shows and catch up on life. 

Charles loves this time. With his formula one schedule and Arthur's schedule, it’s not often that the two brothers can hang out with their older brother and younger sister. They all come together to spend this time as they did before he and Arthur started karting.

However this week something was off. Everyone in the family could see how indifferent Charles was acting. It wasn’t like no one knew why, it was pretty clear why he was acting like this. 

From the start of the season, Ferrari wasn’t having a good time. At least once every race, something went wrong. And Charles was getting the shorter end of the stick, he felt like he was getting totally screwed off in every possible way.

He really tried to not let it affect him but this was his career, without this he’d be nothing. So naturally this was going to crush his self-esteem, his confidence and his calmed headspace.

-

'Charles?' Y/n’s voice broke through the quietness of his stream, everyone watching could see how tense Charles was. The chat, which was going unnoticed by the pair, was speeding down the screen with fans welcoming the younger one of the two. 

username my fav leclerc!! username Y/n I love you username hi Y/nnn username the best leclerc is here yayyy

He stayed silent, barely acknowledging Y/n. 'Charles? Maman made dinner, she told me to come get you' Everyone could see how Charles just rolled his eyes and how he grumbled when she wouldn’t leave. 

There was a beat of silence, the only noise filling the room was the occasional sound coming from his game. 'Charles?' Y/n asked again, confused as to why he wasn't replying.

And then, finally he spoke up. 'God Y/n, can you not see?! I’m busy, fuck off!' It wasn’t often that Y/n saw Charles in this light; heck this was the first time his fans were seeing him in this light. It was as if he had forgotten about all of them having front row seats to his interaction with Y/n.

They could all see the annoyance on Y/n’s face, she wasn’t going to back down just because of one fuck off thrown her way. 'What’s up with you?' She snapped back, her mother raised her not to take shit from anyone - Espercially not her brothers. 'Whatever it is, don’t take it out on me cause I did fuck all to piss you off'

Even after her argument, Charles still couldn’t back down. Funnily enough they have the same mother, so this meant they were taught the same exact thing. He wasn’t going to take shit from her either. 'Do you ever consider that maybe, just maybe, that you are the problem? I come home in the middle of an exhausting season, only for you to come and annoy me just like a fucking child.' He pauses the game and turns in his seat, completely forgetting again that he’s on stream. 'Grow the fuck up.'

The chat is practically flying by now, all the comments shouting at Charles for being so rude.

username what the fuck Charles! username better than any reality tv omfg username don't be rude to my fav leclerc like thattt username this isn't Charles, what is going on???

Y/n bursts into a sarcastic laughter, only infuriating her older brother more. 'Haha you’re so fucking funny! Even you, after being the one who helped me come out of your shadow, can make me feel so shit..'

The way she spat out her words scared Charles, he knew he fucked up. Everyone watching the stream could see how his face paled and how, with a deep frown and tears clouding her eyes, Y/n walked out of the room angerily before vigorously slamming the door.

Chat could see a grimace on his face as Charles' face fell in his hands. A deep sigh could be heard through the mic and then the stream turned black. It ended - Understandable.

-

The days following was icy cold in the Leclerc family, everyone but Y/n had been walking on eggshells. Charles felt like shit, he knew about the shadow behind himself and how it really effected the people around him (Espercially his siblings).

He knew he had to leave for the triple header soon but the thing is he has never left on a bad foot with any of his family and espercially for a long time. His anxiety was riding high.

The evening before his flight to spain, he was sat on the sofa at his childhood home with his mother and Alexandra. 'Fuck..I messed up' Infront of him, Leo was rolling around on the carpet.

Pascale just sighed, she was silently agreeing with her son because she had seen first hand the effects of fame had on Lorenzo, Arthur and Y/n. However on the other hand, she knew that it was harder for him - She just wished he handled the argument better.

'Where is she now?' Alexandras soft voice spoke up, her hand relaxing on top of her partners.

Looking over to the clock, the older women answered. 'Her friends place, I think her friendship group are having a little party you know..' That'd explain the almost eerie silence through the house. 'She'll come around, this won't last long.' A chuckle left the older womens lips. 'Never does..'

If only she knew, Pascale would be eating her words.

-

The next couple of weeks were long and hard for Charles. It seemed like everything had been going incredibly wrong for the guy. Almost every race he was finishing outside of points, the days were long and every time he'd message his little sister, he wouldn't get a reply.

You see Y/n was active on social media and Charles could see this, he could see how she was continuing to attend to her usual activities. Going to her University lectures, doing her little side influencer job and hanging out with friends.

He had heard from both his older brother and his mother how they could tell how the argument effected the youngest Leclerc. Much like Charles, this space between them was hard. Yet, she'd watch the races for him and support him. That being some sort of reassurance for Charles.

Luckily for him, he had some time between the end of the triple header at Silverstone and the next race in Hungary so the evening after the race he was on a flight back to Nice.

It didn't take long for Charles and Alexandra to arrive back to Monaco, popping to his childhood home once again. Walking in they could tell that immediately that Pascale wasn't home but then again someone was home, which only meant one person was here.

Placing her bag down on the kitchen counter, Alexandra made her way over to the stairs. 'Y/n are you home?' There was several patters of footsteps above the couple as she made her way to the living room where Charles was sat anxiously waiting. His knee was continuously bouncing up and down before Alexandra's soft hand came rest just over his kneecap. 'You'll be fine..' She whispered gently.

It didn't take long for his baby sister to reveal herself, dressed in her work out gear. Y/n tried her best to hide her anxiety and hesitation, much like her brother she hated the past weeks. 'Salut..' (Hi) She breathed out.

Charles' eye lit up when he saw her, a small smile on his face. 'Hé, où est maman?' (Hey, where's mum?) It was safe to say that small talk wasn't going to be the best thing right now but they both knew it'd help.

He watched her as she moved to sit on the opposite sofa in her usual seat. 'Elle déjeune avec une amie…Marie' (She is having lunch with a friend…Marie) Both the Ferrari driver and his girlfirnd nodded slowly and understandingly.

There was a few seconds of a surprisingly comfortable silence, no one knowing what to say until Charles felt Alexandra sharply nudge him. Looking at her in shock, she quietly urged him to apologize. 'Look I'm sorry princesse..'

Almost giving herself whip lash, Y/n looked up from she was nervously checking her nails. And then there was a moment of quiet again, she didn't know what to say. Part of wanted to be cheeky and the other wanted to be sentimental. Suddenly her lips screwed into a small smirk, and Charles would be lying if it didn't scare him.

'You know it was pretty shitty what you did.' She let out a laugh and the pair followed in suit, Charles nodding knowingly. 'But you're my big brother, you're pretty shitty in general..' He was glad she was joking about, and he allowed her joke about him.

A smile had taken its shape on his face. 'Yeah I know, forgive me?' He asked, needing to satify that last bit of anxiety in him. To which he got a quick nod in return and immediately he was up, pulling her in a long over due hug.

At first it was sweet but immediately ruined when Charles heard Y/n mumble. 'Make me a dedicated instagram post and then I'll forgive you properly..' He just sighed knowingly as a laugh escaped Alexandras lips. Of course he was being blackmailed.

'Fine.' A grumble left his lips. 'You're lucky..'

-

1.6k

[earlysunshines]

downstairs neighbor

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: in which you party so often that you get another complaint, but this time it's from a very pretty girl that really has you considering shutting the whole function down.

warnings: alcohol and weed mentioned ; readers an asshole at first but danielle is danielle so reader goes through a whole crisis ; yeah they're adorable, basically black cat and golden retriever trope sorry not sorry ; anything else i didn't mention ; not proofread

a/n: get it because usually it's the upstairs neighbor but i'm quirky so its not... ok nvm ill delete my account i gues ... anyways FIRST DANI FIC UNDER 10K! guys im so in love with her i need to be put into an asylum do u see these pics of her LOOK AT HERR!!! i need to die like rn

danielle has settled in quite alright into her new university. she's moved in with one of her close friends from high school, decorated her side of the room, and all of her professors are oddly sweet--much better than the professors from her old school.

she makes it to the first friday of the semester, deciding to settle in and watch a movie, maybe call her mom and dad later if she doesn't doze off. but when she hears muffled music and disturbing footsteps from downstairs, she pauses the show she's two minutes into and gets out of her bed.

hanni's on the other side of the room completely slumped, her headphones peeking out from the blanket sprawled on top of her with no care in the world as to what is happening downstairs. danielle purses her lips before getting out of bed and slipping the university sweatshirts over her tank top.

she looks back over at hanni, who’s still sleeping, before heading out into the living room area, past the kitchen, and out the door.

when she reaches the floor below, she follows the noise, it gets louder as she steps through the corridors, and then she stops in front of what she suspects is the source of all this disruption before knocking on the door—no response.

“hm.” she mumbles, knocking again in a little pattern—still no response.

before she can knock again, her fist in the air ready to hammer a little harder on the door, it opens.

a girl—probably her age—answers it, eyes narrowed at danielle. she’s slightly taller, but still, danielle feels a little small with how scrutinizing she checks her out. 

“did kazuha invite you? yujin? or was it jungwon?” the girl looks at her with raised brows, expecting an answer with a slightly bothered look. it seems like danielle had interrupted their little… event? whatever event it was, did they really need to have house music being blasted so loudly?

danielle rubs her thumb against her pointer finger, trying to steady her nerves. “oh, no, i um… wasn’t invited,” she says, her voice wavering slightly. the words sound even more pathetic out loud than they did in her head, but there’s no taking them back now. she pushes on, though it feels like her confidence is slipping away with every syllable. “i was just wondering if—well, if you could turn the music down? my roommate is sleeping and it’s just… really disturbing.”

the girl in front of her snickers, a look of disbelief crossing her face as she sizes danielle up. it’s clear she finds the request ridiculous, and danielle feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“you know what, this isn’t even my party—hey y/n! come out here!” the girl calls over her shoulder, her tone dismissive as she waves danielle off like she’s someone else’s problem now.

you hear your name being called, and with a sigh, you push yourself up from the couch. the group you were sitting with whines in protest as you leave, but you roll your eyes—they’re all drunk, their complaints nothing more than the amplified nonsense of intoxicated minds.

“what is it, yunjin?” you call out, rubbing your eyes as you approach the entrance, the taste of the cheap beer sakura handed you earlier lingering unpleasantly on your tongue. “what—”

the words die in your throat as you spot the girl standing just inside the doorway. she’s probably, no, definitely new here—new to the party, new to the scene. you’ve never seen someone that makes you stop in your tracks like this. her long eyelashes flutter as she looks up at you, her big brown eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and something else you can’t quite place. she’s dressed in baggy sweats and an oversized university sweater, the logo stretched across her chest in signature block letters. there’s an air of innocence about her, something that feels out of place amidst the environment both of you are in right now.

you take her in, noting how pretty she is—adorable, if you’re going to be honest with yourself. she looks like a lost puppy, especially with those pleading eyes and the subtle bite of her lip—

you push the thought aside, telling yourself it doesn’t matter. you’re just here to deal with whatever minor inconvenience yunjin has decided to dump on you.

“who are you?”

“um, my name is danielle, i live right above.” she has an accent, something strong and similar to that girl yunjin’s been bickering with – was it lily? no, bangchan? hell no, she hates him and his little group. ah, hanni that short girl that came complaining during your second party of freshman year, yunjin still brings her up. 

“right, what do you want?” you ask, sensing yunjin’s departure when you feel her brush against your shoulder. “is there a problem or?”

“well, yeah, kind of…” she’s actually adorable, especially when she avoids your eye contact like that. “it’s kind of loud, you know. i was wondering if you could turn down the volume a bit? there’s a lot of thumping i can hear from above, i can’t imagine how it must be for the downstairs neighbors…”

“you must be new.”

“sorry?”

“you’ll get used to it.” you say simply, poking the inside of your cheek before starting to close the door. “i recommend a pair of some good noise cancelling headphones—and a signature study spot. see you around danielle.”

you feel a strange pang of guilt, something unfamiliar and uncomfortable twisting in your chest. you’ve done this before—brushed off people’s complaints, shut the door on them without a second thought. but there’s something about her that makes you hesitate, something that tugs at you. maybe it’s the way she looked at you, those big brown eyes wide with a mix of hope and desperation, like she was really counting on you to help. you give her one more glance, catching that puppy-dog expression that makes your resolve waver for just a second. but then, before you can think twice, you close the door on her, shutting out the sight of her pleading face.

–

danielle spends the whole night tossing and turning, the faint vibration of the music seeping through the ground and into her restless mind. it’s not loud enough to keep her fully awake, but just persistent enough to keep her from finding any real rest. she considers going back downstairs, maybe trying to have a proper conversation, coming to some kind of compromise. but every time she thinks about it, the memory of how things ended—the snickers, the dismissive attitude—fills her with embarrassment, making her shrink back into her bed.

the next morning, she’s awake before the sun, the lingering fatigue making her body feel heavy and sluggish. still, she forces herself out of bed, the need to talk to someone—anyone—pushing her into action. with a deep breath, she reaches over and starts shaking hanni awake, the clock not even close to ten a.m. on a weekend. hanni groans in protest, burrowing deeper into the blankets, but danielle is relentless, her fingers poking at hanni’s sides until her sleepy roommate finally stirs, blinking up at her with bleary eyes.

“what the hell man? the sun is still rising!”

“what do you know about the downstairs neighbor?”

“w-what?” hanni mumbles, rubbing her eyes as she turns to lay on her back and squint at her roommate. “y/n? is this about her?”

“the girl directly below us—taller, mean, arrogant, tattoo on her arm and wrist, kind of pretty, nice lips, and jawline… ugh! her!”

“that’s y/n, but you’re reaching with the whole kind of pretty part. petty? yeah, more accurate.”

“last night i went down and asked her to–”

“you went to her place? to do what, complain?” 

“yes!” hanni shuts her eyes and sinks her head deeper into the pillow, sighing softly again. her roommate is new, she can’t be harsh, and plus, it’s danielle. 

“dani… the ra is literally in love with her, and y/n uses that so she can party and get high in her fuckass living room.”

“what?”

“danielle, mo dani, please listen.” hanni sits up, blinking hard as she reaches out ot put a hand on her friends shoulder. “you’ll get used to it, you can use my old headphones and i’ll show you my favorite cafe.”

“you’re just going to let this slide?”

“well until y/n stops flirting with jiyoung; there’s nothing we can really do other than cope every friday—and sometimes saturday—night.” hanni explains, flopping onto the bed and returning to fetal position. “can you put the blanket over me, please? i’m tired and cold… please.”

danielle frowns before covering her roommates body with her weighted blanket, sighing before she returns to her bed, laying down and recollecting all her memories from the night before–of you.

—

you’re late. of course you’re late on the second week of classes, as if last weeks twenty minute surprise appearance wasn’t humbling enough. 

as you rush out of your apartment, you’re met with jiyoung standing right by the exit, as if she’s been waiting for you—she probably has. this has happened at least once a week last year. she greets you with her signature smile and a small piece of chocolate, a gesture that would be sweet if you weren’t in such a hurry. you force a smile and mumble a quick thanks, but you know what’s coming next. the compliments, the small talk, the forced out, cliché lines she always uses. it’s all part of her routine, but you really don’t have the time for it today. you need to get to class.

fifteen minutes later, you’re finally free from jiyoung’s conversation, but you’re also running dangerously late. again. you sprint across campus, your heart pounding in your chest as you mentally prepare for the inevitable stares and the professor’s disapproving remarks.

when you finally reach the classroom, you throw the door open a little too forcefully. the room falls silent as heads turn to face you, the sudden interruption catching everyone’s attention. you freeze for a second, cringing at yourself when you’re caught in the spotlight, before the professor’s voice cuts through the silence.

“late on the second week? what was it, kim… no, yang…” he trails off, squinting at you as if trying to remember your name.

you clear your throat, feeling your face heat up. “l/n, l/n y/n,” you correct him, trying to keep your voice steady.

“well, you’re lucky i’ve just started the lecture. please hurry and take a seat, you’ve already made quite the impression.”

“sorry, sir,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you scan the room for an empty seat. most of the rows are full, and the weight of all those eyes on you makes your skin prickle with discomfort.

finally, you spot an open seat in the fourth row from the top, right at the edge. you hurry over and drop your bag beside the chair, quickly unzipping it to pull out your laptop. your hands move with practiced speed, signing in and opening a page for notes before setting your bag on the empty seat next to you. you look up, hoping to catch up on what you’ve missed so far. 

and that’s when you see her.

danielle. she’s sitting just two seats away from you, her gaze locked on yours the moment you look up. her big brown eyes, framed by those impossibly long lashes, are full of recognition—and something else you can’t quite place, and why are they sparkling? your jaw tenses as you force yourself to look away, zipping up your bag with a little more force than necessary. three seats. that’s all that separates you from the girl who showed up at your doorstep last friday, the one you dismissed without a second thought. and now here she is, sitting way too close for comfort, her presence making the air around you feel heavier.

of course you blindly chose the spot next to her. the new girl who filed a complaint, only to have the door shut on her. it’s just your luck.

you catch her in your peripheral staring at you for a few more seconds before she redirects her attention towards the professor. you let out a breath of relief, now you just have to get through the next hour and fifty minutes near the cute girl you were an ass to.

–

as soon as the class ends, you’re out the door without sparing a glance at danielle. she watches you hurry out, noticing how you started packing up your things five minutes before class was even dismissed. it’s like you couldn’t wait to get away.

you make your way to the engineering building, where you know your roommate yunjin’s class ended a bit earlier. when you spot her in the lobby, you walk up with a bothered look on your face.

“good morning…?” yunjin greets you, her smirk showing she’s amused by your expression.

“you won’t believe who’s in my sociology class,” you say, still reeling from the encounter.

“everyone takes sociology, even the finance freaks,” she replies, shrugging as if it’s not a big deal.

“nevermind.” you roll your eyes, scoffing. “whatever, let’s grab a bite. i’m hungry.”

“you always are,” yunjin chuckles, stepping beside you.

the two of you end up at your favorite local thai place, sharing a large bowl of fried rice. it’s a familiar routine—since freshman year, you’ve known one bowl is more than enough to satisfy both of you. the memory of that first time, half-drunk and thinking the portions would be small, makes you smile despite your lingering annoyance.

as you chew on your second bite, glancing at a notification on your phone, yunjin’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “so, who’s in your sociology class?”

“danielle,” you reply, not looking up from your phone.

“who?”

“the girl from friday.”

yunjin frowns, trying to recall. “at our party? there wasn’t anyone i didn’t know–”

“no, no. the girl you made me deal with. she knocked on the door—big eyes, long lashes.”

“oh, her,” yunjin hums, finally understanding. “what about her?”

“i closed the door on her that night after she complained or whatever. i didn’t think much of it, but then i was late to class because jiyoung wanted to talk to me, and i picked a random spot… turns out it was three fucking seats away from her—danielle.”

yunjin laughs, thankfully before she can take another bite of rice. “seriously?”

“shut up.”

“that’s hilarious. you think she’s going to give you shit?”

“i mean,” you poke at your rice, hesitating, “she doesn’t seem like she will…”

but even as you say it, the thought nags at you. danielle doesn’t seem like the type to hold a grudge—polite and sweet even when you were being arrogant—almost too good to be true. she looks like she belongs in a fairy tale, with her princess-like appearance and demeanor. meanwhile, you feel like the ugly villain in her story, lurking under the bridge, ready to cast a spell or something like that. the more you think about it, the more ridiculous it seems.

“then you’ll be fine, you were fine shutting the door on her anyway.”

you were fine, but that version of you was under the influence of cheap beer and too focused on going back to your conversation than dealing with someone’s complaint—even if it were from danielle.

“i guess.”

–

the next time you host a party, the volume’s turned down by two notches. you tell yourself it’s because yunjin’s been saying “huh?” to you more often, but deep down, you know that’s not the real reason.

you’ve also decided to stick with one can of beer instead of three. even yujin seemed surprised when you declined the second. 

these parties used to be at jake’s place, but he argued they should be at yours since the ra is madly in love with you, and your place is slightly bigger. you were against it at first, but socializing never hurt, and it made you happy to see others happy. you’d also be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the occasional expensive drink that someone brought when their paycheck had been a bit fatter that week.

now, you’re leaning against the counter while minji rummages through a cupboard, searching for spare plastic cups. you take a sip from your sprite—the second can of the night, and surprisingly, neither has been alcoholic (you don’t count the bitter can of beer, it’s only five percent alcohol). yunjin’s voice cuts through the music just loud enough for you to hear, “you think that girl will show up again? give you shit?”

“i’d hope not.” you pretend it’s a truthful statement, your tone firm, a little snarky, and a bit confident, but there’s a small part of you that hopes she does. you catch yourself imagining her showing up in her oversized sleepwear again, her eyes wide, her voice so soft and sweet it makes your chest tighten a little. 

“and if she does?”

“i’ll shut her out again.”

“and if you show up late, then sit three seats away from her again?”

“ignorance.” you sip on your sprite again, licking your lips to savor something that actually satisfies your tastebuds. 

“you’re good at that.”

“aw, thanks.” you say bitterly, hearing yunjin snicker as she tears open a new pack of red plastic cups. “asshat.”

your orange-haired roommate leans against the counter across from you, then says, “i think jungwon brought penjamin.” his infamous pen, the one you took way too many hits of last time that it had you seeing the stars. 

“not again, i don’t trust myself.”

she laughs at you again, “i don’t trust you either, let’s stick with a hit or two instead of five.”

“and you need to stick with a few drinks instead of passing out on the floor again. you’re lucky you were leaning against the couch.”

“womp womp.” you can’t believe her, what an idiot.

“say that again when you wake up with your legs in the fucking blinds, or something. i still don’t know how you don’t have liver damage, and doesn’t that affect your performance on the court?”

“conditioned to drink and score three’s.”

“whatever.” you sigh, then hear a few knocks from the door.

yunjin raises her brows, then chuckles, “hey, it’s your lovergirl.”

“she’s not my— ugh. be right back.” 

lovergirl, yunjin is going to wake up upside down in her closet if she keeps it up. there’s no chance that she’s attracted to you in the slightest, not with your first impressions. the thought makes you a little dissapointed, but you shake your head, you’re being ridiculous again. 

you shake the thought away, forcing yourself to focus getting to your door and not tripping on the shoe that had been blindlessly kicked off. there’s a quiet anticipation simmering beneath your calm exterior as the music gets more faint in your ears. you tell yourself you’re being stupid, but the truth is harder to ignore—there’s a part of you that wants her to be at the door, even if it’s just to scold you again.

you open the door, and there she is—miss lovergirl herself.

“another party?” she asks, her tone light, almost teasing.

“are you going to tell me to shut the whole thing down? still haven't invested in headphones, have you?”

“actually, i wasn’t going to—the shutting down part, i have headphones being delivered tomorrow.” she replies, smiling. maybe your brows furrow, just a little. “but the music is a little quieter, that i noticed, so maybe my efforts did pay off.” she pauses, then adds, “anyway, my roommate told me there’s no getting through to you about these parties. so, i came here to give you this.” 

she holds out a keychain with a cardholder attached, and you see a picture inside—a photo of you and your little brother at your high school graduation. he’s about twelve in the picture, braces on and cheeks still chubby. it’s one of your favorite photos, and your eyes widen as you take it from her slowly, almost carefully.

“where’d you get this?” you ask, voice a bit more cautious than you intended.

“you dropped it under your seat last lecture. seemed like you were in such a rush to leave, or to avoid me…?” she tilts her head, batting those impossibly long lashes.

you realize she’s not in her sleepwear this time. she’s dressed in everyday clothes—a zip-up over a fitted white shirt, jeans, and some well-worn sneakers. a nike cap sits snugly on her head, her long, wavy hair flowing down in a way that makes you look twice. she’s wearing light makeup, and it strikes you for the first time how nice her lips are, and—

“um, thanks,” you mutter.

“it’s no problem.”

“are you going to ask me to turn the volume down now?” 

she shakes her head, adjusting the backpack slipping down her shoulder. “no, but i'd appreciate it. you’ve already made baby steps.”

if it had been anyone else saying that, you’d have rolled your eyes, maybe even scoffed in their face. but there’s something about the way danielle says it—so genuinely, so kindly—that catches you off guard. you’re used to sharp words and snide remarks, not this… breath of fresh air, this three a.m. glass of water in the form of a person.

“right, okay,” you manage to say.

“well, i'll get going then. my roommate’s friend is coming over to watch a movie with us, so we’d appreciate it if you could maybe turn it down. but, that’s up to you, mate.” 

“oh, okay, yeah.” you feel like you’re melting into a puddle. what is going on with you? “i’ll see what i can do.”

“night then.”

“night?”

she walks off, your eyes follow her until she reacehs the end of the hall. it was the most casual encounter you’ve ever had in a bit, and yet, it felt like so much more. 

–

haerin sits back, watching without a word as hanni and minji bicker over the remote, their voices rising slightly above the hum of the tv. hanni has her arms crossed tightly over her chest, a scowl forming when minji suggests yet another sappy romance. haerin half expects them to start wrestling for control, but just before the tension hits a breaking point, the sound of the door lock twisting stops them. both heads turn to see danielle stepping inside, her hand raised in a small wave, a polite smile on her lips.

“sorry i’m late,” danielle apologizes.

“you’re good,” hanni replies, running her fingers through her hair to fix it. “movie time? can you choose, please…”

“yeah! let me get changed first, okay?”

“okay, okay, but hurry or else minji’s gonna have my limbs cut off or something. and we both know haerin would rather watch than save either of us.” hanni jokes, drawing a chuckle from haerin and a playful glare from minji. 

a few minutes later, danielle is back in an old t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. she drops herself right between hanni and minji, effectively acting as a buffer. she grabs the remote, settling under the blanket as her legs casually stretch across hanni's lap.

“where were you, by the way?” hanni asks, feeling danielle’s legs settle more comfortably over her own. “if the bus was late, you could’ve called.”

“my bus came early. i just stopped by y/n’s,” danielle replies casually.

minji’s head snaps toward danielle so fast it’s a wonder she doesn’t get whiplash. haerin even lets out a small gasp of “what?”

“y/n? you mean l/n y/n?” minji echoes, her tone filled with disbelief. “you went to her place?”

danielle nods. “she dropped something in the class we have together, so i returned it.”

“and she didn’t bite your head off?” minji asks, eyes wide. “you’re really something, danielle.”

danielle just laughs softly, her fingers scrolling through the endless netflix catalog in search of a movie they all might actually agree on. she seems unfazed by the shock that mentioning your name has caused, a slight smile playing on her lips. she can’t quite understand the big deal. you’ve been… normal, for the most part—pretty normal, actually, in the three times she’s spoken to you.

“she’s really not that bad,” danielle shrugs, finally stopping on a rom-com that catches her eye. “i can fix her.”

“you can what?” hanni swivels her head toward danielle, eyes wide in disbelief.

“what?” danielle grins. “she doesn’t bite.”

“well, her friend yunjin does,” hanni mutters, thinking back to the group project from hell with yunjin, who’d spent every meeting hungover and useless. “she’s probably just like the people she hangs out with.”

“no, i bet she’s nicer deep down.”

“you’re too pure for this world,” minji murmurs, feeling danielle’s head lean on her shoulder. “she’s got a bad reputation, you know.”

“well, she turned the volume down for us,” danielle insists.

“she did?” hanni raises an eyebrow, surprised.

“yeah, just before i visited her. i told her we’d be having a movie night and said i’d appreciate it if she toned it down a bit. now we can barely feel the bass.”

hanni thinks for a moment. maybe the music is a bit quieter, but she’s gotten so used to it, she barely notices the difference. minji and haerin, on the other hand, don't deal with the noise often—haerin lives with her parents, and minji’s dorm is on the other wing.

danielle presses play, and the conversation shifts. they all settle in, pushing the topic of you, the downstairs neighbor, out of their minds as they focus on the opening scenes of the movie.

hanni leans into haerin, a smile on her lips as her legs tangle with danielle’s. “you’re so interesting, man,” she mutters, half-amused, half-bewildered.

–

there aren't any assigned seats—it's university, for crying out loud. still, you find yourself three seats away from danielle again, like last time, pretending not to notice her as you settle in, determined not to drop anything today. you set your things down carefully, opening up your laptop and pulling out your ipad, keeping your eyes firmly on the screen.

out of the corner of her eye, danielle watches you fumble with the apple pen, spinning it between your ring and middle finger. she sees it slip from your grip and clatter to the floor beside you. you let out a soft sigh, standing to retrieve it, making your way down two rows. when you straighten up and head back, you catch danielle trying to hide a smile, her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

“what’s so funny?” you ask, a little defensive.

“your pen-spinning skills,” danielle says, turning fully toward you with that same amused smile. “slippery fingers?”

“shouldn’t you be reviewing before the lecture?”

“i usually get here fifteen minutes early,” she replies, still grinning. “i’ve already done that.”

“whatever.” you drop back into your seat, tapping away at your keyboard as the professor approaches the front, fiddling with the hdmi cable. you open your notes app, trying to ignore the way danielle’s laughter still lingers in the air.

“you know i don’t bite, right?” her voice breaks your focus.

“what?”

she nods at the empty seats between you. “you’re sitting pretty far… come sit next to me.”

“i’m not getting up. my stuff’s already out.”

danielle rolls her eyes, moving the desk platform in front of her as she stands, gathering her things without a second thought, and before you know it, she’s dropping into the seat beside you. you weren’t expecting that—her choosing to sit next to you so boldly. but there she is, right next to you, with that grin stretching across her face as she adjusts her notebook.

“there, lazy bum,” she teases, her tone light, eyes flicking back to the professor as he sets up the projection.

you find yourself staring, caught off guard by how close she is. she smells sweet—like cherries, with a mix of amber and jasmine. you quickly shift your gaze back to your laptop, opening your calendar and planner and, almost instinctively, the tab with the jacket you’ve been eyeing for weeks.

when you steal another glance at danielle, she’s put on a pair of glasses. stupid, adorable glasses that make her look even cuter—something you didn’t think was possible. 

you can’t help the small grin that creeps onto your face as you focus back on the slides on the big screen, but your mind is still partially with her, sitting beside you, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her skin.

—

for the next month, sociology becomes your favorite class—not because of the subject, but because it means you get almost two hours near danielle. she’s just as sweet as she looks, always greeting you with a warm smile and tossing out casual small talk that somehow feels more personal every time. she compliments you now and then, little things like “your hair looks nice today” or “i like your shoes,” which leaves you more flustered than you’d care to admit. soon enough, it's routine—you both leave class together, walking side by side until you reach the main lobby of the science building. danielle always waves goodbye with that bright smile, her eyes sparkling, even when the sky is overcast. you smile back, feeling a little bashful, but somehow, it feels right.

sometimes, you even meet up at the entrance of your little dorm complex to head to class together. danielle's just a floor above, so you run into her in the elevator sometimes too. there’s something about her—something so effortlessly charming and magnetic. it’s like she’s a light, and you’re a moth, drawn into her presence without even realizing it.

what you don’t realize is that jiyoung, your ra, has noticed these little interactions. she catches glimpses now and then, her curiosity piqued.

after another class ends, you wave goodbye to danielle, planning to meet up with yunjin, but before you can leave, jiyoung intercepts you. 

"hey, didn’t see you this morning,” she says, her tone casual but her eyes narrowing slightly. “i haven’t been seeing you around as much, actually."

"oh, yeah… i’ve been…” you start, your gaze flicking past her to danielle, who’s almost out of the building. jiyoung looks in the same direction to see danielle as well, her brows furrow just a bit. you continue, “um, spending more time with this girl in my sociology class."

"right, danielle? she’s on the floor above you, right?”

“yeah…”

“hm,” jiyoung murmurs, more to herself than to you. “you’ve been spending a lot of time with her, haven’t you?”

“i mean, yeah. she’s nice and—why does it matter?”

“you’re not into her, are you?”

the question catches you off guard, like a punch you didn’t see coming. you stare at jiyoung like she’s lost her mind. “w-what? n-no, no, she’s just— you know, we’re friends. we’re friendly.”

“nothing more, right?”

“i mean, no, but even if it were… why does it matter to you?”

jiyoung’s gaze drops to the floor, and she mumbles, “i don’t know? i mean, you said you didn’t even want to date.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling in frustration. “look, i’ve got to meet up with yunjin. i’ll see you around, okay?”

you turn to leave, but jiyoung’s soft scoff stops you in your tracks. she hesitates for a moment before speaking again.

“by the way,” she says, her tone light but pointed. you turn your head slightly, just enough for her to see the edge of your expression. “you can’t party this weekend. there’s been an increase in complaints.”

you pivot to face her fully, opening your mouth to argue but then closing it again. you bite the inside of your lip, letting the frustration simmer before you finally nod, muttering a resigned, “fine.”

jiyoung watches you, her expression unreadable, as you walk away, but you don’t look back. the weekend suddenly feels a lot quieter than you planned.

—

even if you’d wanted to party, it wouldn't have been an option. yunjin’s gone home for the weekend to help her sister, and you’re stuck in your dorm, feeling sicker than you’ve ever felt.

the day started off fine, just a light headache that you shrugged off. but somewhere between the gym and a quick grocery run, everything went downhill. by the time you made it back to your place, it felt like your body had been run over by a truck. your head throbbed, every limb ached, and a wave of dizziness nearly had you collapsing against the wall as soon as you stepped inside.

you barely made it to the kitchen, dropping the paper bag of groceries onto the counter before stumbling toward your bedroom. the cold hit you like a slap to the face, making you shiver uncontrollably. you rummaged through your closet for the thickest sweatshirt and sweatpants you could find, pulling them on with shaky hands. 

you didn’t even think to check your temperature; the pounding in your head and the chills wracking your body were enough to know you were in trouble. grabbing two ibuprofen from the drawer, you swallowed them dry with a couple of forced gulps of water, then collapsed onto your bed. 

you pulled the covers around you, but they did little to stop the violent shivers. your teeth chattered, and you curled in on yourself, hugging your knees to your chest as if that would somehow keep the cold at bay. every breath felt heavy, every blink longer than the last, until finally, exhaustion pulled you under.

—

the music is noticeably quieter these days, sparing your hearing and everyone else a floor above or below you. really, it’s all danielle's doing. she's somehow found your weakness—those soft, pleading eyes and that gentle voice asking you to turn it down. it’s a saturday night, and normally she’d hear the faint beats of charli xcx or troye sivan vibrating up through the floor, but tonight there’s nothing. 

danielle seems to be the only one in her shared dorm—and probably the whole building—who feels unsettled by the lack of music. the silence is almost unnerving. 

“finally, i can take a nap without those headphones on,” hanni sighs, dropping face-first onto her bed like a log. 

danielle, leaning against her bedframe, bites her lip. “don’t you think it’s weird though? no party tonight?”

“weird? dani, this is a miracle,” hanni mumbles, already half-asleep. “it’s been months since she hasn’t partied, and that was only because we were all gone during summer break.”

but as hanni's breathing evens out and she drifts off, danielle’s frown deepens. it is weird. you’ve never missed a saturday night. she doesn’t even have your number to text and check if everything’s alright.

minutes pass, and her mind races with possibilities—maybe you’re just tired, or busy with something else, or… sick? before she knows it, danielle is up and moving, driven by a strange concern she doesn’t fully understand. she tucks hanni in properly, pulling the blanket up over her instead of letting it dangle off the bed. 

once she's sure hanni is comfortable, she heads for the door, slipping on her slides and grabbing her key. she feels a small surge of determination as she steps into the hallway. if something’s wrong, she needs to know. danielle isn’t sure what she’ll find out, but she's already halfway down the hall, her feet carrying her to your place almost on their own.

she gets to your door quickly, fixing her hair because you’re somehow the only person who makes her feel the need to fuss over her appearance. 

danielle knocks twice, softly at first, just enough to be heard over normal conversation, but there's no answer. she waits, listening for any sound from inside, even from your orange-haired roommate—but nothing. she knocks again, a little louder this time, about the same level as when you party. still nothing. 

determined, she finally bangs on the door with all her might and shouts, "y/n! hello?" her voice echoes in the hallway, and a few curious heads peek out from behind their own doors, wondering what’s going on.

there's a long moment of silence before she hears a faint, “coming! coming...” it sounds like you, but groggier, almost as if the sound is muffled by the door between you two.

danielle waits, her heart pounding in her chest, until the door opens just a crack, and you peek out, looking utterly exhausted. 

“y/n?”

“w-what, what...” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, and slightly slurred, like you’ve been asleep for days. "who— danielle? what are you doing here? there's no party," you mutter, breathing heavily like you’ve just run a mile. "you don’t have to… have to yell at me."

“i’m not here to yell at you, i never yell at you, silly," danielle says softly, a small smile on her face. "can i come in?”

you hum in agreement, and she pushes the door open further, stepping inside. 

the apartment is dimly lit, with only the glow from the streetlights outside and a small lamp in the living room. danielle’s eyes dart around—she’s never actually been inside before, just caught glimpses through the doorway during those parties. it’s surprisingly clean, smelling of lavender and fresh laundry instead of the stale beer or weed she expected. 

you stumble forward, catching yourself on the kitchen counter, your legs shaky and unsteady. 

danielle rushes over, her hand reaching for your arm. “are you okay?”

“y-yeah, i’m fine," you mumble, but your voice is rough, strained. 

she flicks on a light, and you wince, shielding your eyes with the back of your hand. danielle guides you to the couch, sitting you down gently. you slump back into the cushions, and she takes a closer look—your hair is stuck to your forehead, cheeks rosy, and there’s a dullness in your usually sharp eyes.

without thinking, she presses the back of her hand to your forehead, feeling the intense heat radiating from your skin. “you’re burning up,” she says softly, concern etched in her voice. “how long have you been like this?”

“i– i don’t know… i’m so tired…” you murmur, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“let’s get you to your bed,” danielle suggests. “can you show me?”

you nod weakly, and she helps you to your feet. you sway slightly, leaning heavily on her as she tries to steady you. you’re taller, heavier, and she’s not exactly built for this—but she does her best, slipping an arm around your waist to support you.

your head drops forward, and you breathe slowly against her shoulder. danielle's heart races as she feels the warmth of your breath, and when you look up, your faces are inches apart, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating off you. her cheeks warm up, she wonders if your fever is contagious.

but she shakes it off, tightening her grip on you. “come on,” she whispers. “let’s get you to bed.”

you lead her to your room, and she’s a little surprised by how tidy it is. the walls are painted in soft, earthy tones, the furniture minimalistic and neatly arranged. polaroids and film photos cover the walls, snapshots of you and your friends, some of family, too. there’s a warmth to it, a sense of calm that she hadn’t expected. she notices a movie poster above your bed—something she doesn’t recognize. you collapse onto the bed immediately, curling up into a tight ball, yanking the nearest blanket over you with a groan.

danielle watches you for a moment, then quietly slips out of the room. you lie there, thoughts buzzing in your foggy mind. how did she know you were sick? why is she here? did she come just for you? did you forget something? but the craziest thought of all is that danielle is in your apartment, just the two of you. the realization sends a tiny thrill through your chest.

she returns a few minutes later, carrying a bowl, a bottle of medicine, and a thermometer. she sits beside you on the edge of the bed, nudging you over gently so you're lying flat on your back, your tired eyes meeting hers. she sets the bowl beside you and slides the thermometer into your mouth. you stare at her, feeling a bit dazed, and she offers a small, reassuring smile.

when it beeps, she pulls it out and checks the screen, her brow furrowing slightly. “you’ve got a fever, it’s pretty high,” she murmurs, setting the thermometer down and reaching for a water bottle. “i kind of went through your place to find this, i hope that’s okay.”

you nod weakly, letting her help you sit up on your elbows. she presses the bottle to your lips, and you sip slowly, a few drops spilling out and dribbling down your chin. you reach up, embarrassed, to wipe them away, but danielle just grins at you gently, wiping them with her sleeve.

she places the bottle down and dips her hand into the bowl. you lie back, too tired to care, hearing the soft sound of water being wrung out. then, without warning, she presses a cool, damp cloth to your forehead, and you wince at the sudden chill, a small whine escaping your lips. danielle clicks her tongue softly, using her thumb to swipe a stray drop of water away from the corner of your eye. 

“i know it’s cold, but it’ll help bring your fever down,” she explains gently.

you feel her hand slide down, and suddenly her fingers are wrapped around yours. her thumb brushes over your knuckles in slow, soothing circles, and you let out a shaky breath, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. you hum softly, the tension easing out of your body.

"is it okay if i stay for a bit?" she asks quietly. "i don't want you to be alone, but this is your place, after all."

“p-please,” you whisper, gripping her hand tighter, needing the comfort. “please stay.”

she smiles warmly, nodding, and you feel the weight of her presence, steady and calming, beside you. “i’ll stay close then,” she promises softly. “don’t worry.”

—

you wake up with a low groan, feeling like you’ve just been hit by a bus. every muscle in your body aches, and your head throbs just a bit. blinking against the dim light filtering through the blinds, you sit up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. you look around, trying to get your bearings. 

your gaze falls on the bowl of water beside the bed, with two rags soaking in it, and the thermometer resting on the edge. memories from before you passed out come flooding back, and your cheeks heat up at the thought of danielle sitting by your side, taking care of you. your heart does a little flip at the memory, and you shake your head, trying to steady your thoughts.

there’s no sign of her in your room. she’s not in your bed, and you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. honestly, if you had woken up to find her next to you, you’re pretty sure your heart would’ve just exploded right then and there. 

with a bit more urgency than necessary, you get up and make your way to the living room. your steps are quiet as you peek around the corner, and there she is, curled up on the couch. she’s asleep, head resting on a pillow, her zip-up hoodie pulled over her legs like a makeshift blanket. the sight tugs at something in your chest, a mix of guilt and gratitude. she stayed the whole night.

you hurry back to your room, grabbing another blanket from your bed, and return to her side. you drape it over her carefully, making sure not to wake her. danielle shifts slightly, mumbling something you can’t quite make out. her face softens in sleep, and you find yourself smiling without meaning to. 

the morning light slips through the blinds, casting a warm glow across her face, illuminating the soft curve of her cheek, the way her lashes fan out against her skin. she looks peaceful, so pretty in the soft light, and you let yourself enjoy the sight for just a moment longer than you probably should.

you let out a small sigh and decide to leave her be, tiptoeing away quietly. but as you move, you can’t help but glance back one last time, her serene expression etched into your memory. then, feeling a strange mix of comfort and nerves, you head to your room to get yourself ready.

— 

danielle wakes up only thirty minutes after you, sitting up a minute after she’s blinked herself awake. she sits up and catches you on the floor by the coffee table, knees drawn to your chest, a bowl of fruit and two pieces of toast in front of you. her vision clears, and she catches you popping a blueberry into your mouth, scrolling absently through your phone.

"good morning..." she mutters, stretching and rubbing her eyes.

you turn at the sound of her voice, surprised to see her up already. she's quicker at waking up than you; you would have stayed in bed for another ten minutes at least, but the pounding in your head forced you up earlier. "hey, i didn’t think you’d stay the whole night."

“i just wanted to make sure you were alright," she explains, moving to sit next to you, mirroring your posture, knees tucked in. "i checked in on you during the night to change the rag on your head and everything, seems like you’re back to normal.”

“you didn’t have to, danielle,” you say, feeling a wave of gratitude mixed with embarrassment.

“but i wanted to.” she shrugs lightly, her eyes softening as she looks at you. “how are you feeling?”

“i took two advils before brushing my teeth," you say with a small smile. "feeling pretty great now.”

“i’m glad. your fever was pretty high.”

“was it?” you raise an eyebrow, grabbing a piece of strawberry and popping it into your mouth.

“yeah.” she picks a piece of kiwi from the bowl and eats it. “i was worried.”

you turn your head, meeting her gaze directly. her eyes look a bit tired, her face bare of makeup, but she still looks good—so natural, so effortlessly beautiful. a thought crosses your mind: you owe her for this, for being so kind and caring when she didn’t have to be.

";ast night i didn’t hear any loud noises from downstairs," danielle continues, “there wasn’t a party going on, and i got a little concerned.”

you chuckle, setting your phone aside, resting your cheek against your knee. “so you came because… there wasn’t a party?”

“it was pretty suspicious,” she insists with a playful grin. “then you opened the door looking like you’d just fought a bear, stumbling around. it was kind of funny, and cute.”

her compliment catches you off guard. you turn away quickly, pretending to be more interested in the fruit than you are. "thank you, danielle," you mumble. "i owe you."

“it’s nothing,” she says softly. "as long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters." her words feel like a direct hit to your heart, it’s as if cupid had a gun instead of a bow and shot you right in the chest, making you feel strangely warm and fluttery inside.

“you’re so… hey, what about your roommate? isn't she wondering where you are?”

“oh, hanni,” danielle giggles, checking her phone for any messages but finding none. “she was passed out before i left last night. it's not even ten yet, so she’s probably still asleep.” she stands up, and you rise with her, feeling a slight pang of disappointment. “but i should go check on her, and fix myself up. i probably look like a mess right now.”

you look perfect. it almost lips right off your tongue, but you manage to shut your mouth.

you lead her to the door, wishing she could stay a bit longer, just a little while more. “of course,” you say, feeling a knot tighten in your chest. “thank you again for everything.”

danielle places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “it’s nothing,” she says warmly. “i’ll see you around.”

you open the door, watching her step outside, but she turns back, hesitating. before she can say anything else, you speak first. "hey, danielle?"

“yes?”

“are you free later?”

“i’m free all day,” she replies, though she adds, “but i might run errands with hanni.”

“right, well.” you play with your hair nervously. danielle tilts her head, noticing the shift in your demeanor. “you should come over tonight. i’ll cook you dinner—to repay you, of course.”

she chuckles, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “that’s quite intimate,” she teases. “is this your way of asking me out?”

“uh—” your heart races, but you nod, swallowing hard. “yes. and i'd hope your way of accepting is… coming over around six?”

danielle's smile widens, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “i’ll see you then, as long as you’re not sick again.”

“i’d count on that if it meant having you take care of me again.”

she glances away, hiding a smile, and you catch sight of the tiny moles on her face. "you're really good at this," she says softly.

“i’m really not,” you admit, “but it’s you, so i thought i’d try a little harder.”

she rolls her eyes playfully, then steps closer and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. your skin heats up instantly, heart racing faster than before. she pulls back with a grin, waving as she says, “see you tonight, six p.m.!”

“see you…” you reply, still stunned as you watch her walk down the hall. she glances back twice, each time your smiles mirroring and growing wider.

you wonder if you should cut down on the weekly parties, maybe dedicate more time to being with her. but that might be getting ahead of yourself. for now, all you know is that you have to prepare the best dinner ever tonight—something that might just earn you another kiss, maybe on the lips this time.