#the fact that at the end of the day they were doing something on this motherfucker's orders was such a bur under her saddle

[barrenclan]

"The Vaster World"

Well! This is it! The very last epilogue of "Pinepaw and the Forgotten World"!

This epilogue in particular took me awhile to write, because I had to get it exactly how I wanted. Pinewing and Cormorantleaf's relationship is one of the main focuses of the story, and I really felt I needed to explore it the way it deserved. Especially important to me was showing that despite how much they love each other, there's still a ton of baggage and difficulities they needed to work out. I honestly think it would be unrealistic for two characters with so much trauma to just skip off happily together, but I also wanted to emphasize how they could still reconcile in the end. Not all relationships work out, but Pinewing and Cormorantleaf both felt that the other was extremely important to them, and the relationship was something they both wanted. So they were willing to put in the work of building it back up.

I had a ton of fun drawing older Pinewing and Cormorantleaf. I started doodling Pinewing with full facial hair something like a year ago, and I've been so desperate to finally get it into the comic since. It feels so right for him, like his perfect final form. After a life full of pressure and difficulty Pinewing just wants to be a happy old man who gets to kiss his husband every day, and sometimes profesy the future writ flesh. Goodbye, my little blue cat; I'm gonna miss you.

The title of this epilogue comes from "Mimsy Were The Borogoves" by Lewis Padgett: "They would survive, but they would not know how to swim downstream, to the vaster world of the ocean.”

In the end, the whole project wraps up at 64,501 words, 370 pages, and two and a half years of production time. I started this project expecting it to be a minor thing I occasionally drew on the side, something a few people might find interesting. The enormously positive response has absolutely blown me away and continues to do so, and I am forever so grateful that thousands of people can enjoy and meaningfully relate to this story.

Thank you, as always, to everyone who has commented, shared, reblogged, theorized, made fanart, made fanfiction, told their friends, liked it, or just read it at all. Though I won't go into the specific details, PATFW is an extremely personal and cathartic creation of mine, so the fact that many of you have also told me that it connected with you on an emotional level is genuinely heart-touching. I appreciate all your readership through these years. It means a lot.

-Raz

Previous < > You are at the end

[tricoloreddango]

͙͘͡ ★ Love is when you…

HSR men (Jing Yuan, Phainon, Mydei, Mr. Reca) x female reader

stories about how they let you use their face

cw: smut / oral fem receiving / face riding and sitting / semi public for Phainon / established relationship / injuries mention / consensual pantyshots by Mr. Reca / Mr. Reca is into being degraded and reader being dominant

minors do not interact

Jing Yuan

There was no way for Jing Yuan to last any more time spent at his work office. Every time he attempted to read a document, the image of you in the morning kept repeating itself in his head. You, wearing your nightgown, all cuddled up with him, not realizing that your pussy was all exposed when your nightgown rode up as you moved in your slumber—a fault of the fact that you slept without underwear for a better hygiene… and sometimes for easier access should you two want to have morning sex.

It wasn’t the first time he’s seen you naked, obviously, but with every new day on the calendar, Jing Yuan kept falling in love with you more and more… and that fueled his physical attraction for you. He couldn’t stop thinking about how you’d taste if he would use his mouth on you like he did every other day. Sex with you was never a routine but something exciting to come back to.

He finally snapped. It’s not like he’d be able to do any work in this state and it was already shameful to be hard when he should be busy.

You, unsuspecting of his early arrival from work, he finally left The Seat of Divine Foresight. Jing Yuan didn’t care much about the fact you’ll scold him for leaving work early again—he assumed you’ll forget his sin quickly when you feel his tongue on you. Each mile starskiff has crossed, his desperation only grew. It wasn’t even about his pleasure of you servicing him. It was an utter need to worship you as if you were some higher entity—that’s how much he loved you.

When he finally returned, stepping into the house as if burned, it got you confused and worried something had happened. You didn’t assume he left work early on purpose yet, considering his shaken up state until… you saw a clear outline in his pants. He even dared to remove his layers before entering so nothing was getting in a way now, and dropped the elements on the floor.

“Jing Yuan…” you started with a slight annoyance, but he was quickly charging at you and pulling you into a kiss. With a swift hand, he turned off the stove to not burn the meal you were cooking so diligently for you both, before he found himself pressing you against the counter behind you.

The kiss took you by surprise, but feeling a familiar taste, strength and having a realization of what effect you had on him... you quickly gave in, kissing him back. However, you couldn’t keep up with his passion. He was a wild man today, not even knowing where to begin and unable to keep his hands off of you as they hopelessly roamed all over your body. He ended the kiss rather quickly though, as it was something to only release the tension before he’d move to the main goal.

Before you could react, Jing Yuan dropped down to his knees and spread your legs; then pulled up your body-tight skirt up and your panties down. “Jing Yuan—“ you said both startled and flustered at the spontaneity, but the heat was pooling in your belly. You couldn’t feel any less attractive and excited when seeing your husband so desperate for you; ready to be taken to another dimension with your hubby in it.

“I know, I’m sorry for leaving early… but beloved,” he murmured into your skin as he quickly kissed up your thigh, “I promise only pleasure for you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, are you aware?” His lips were getting close to your sweet pussy, the center of his today’s attention. “Will you please let me have this?” he asked, him looking up at you with eyes so hazy. Seeing him below you, all eager to please and knowing what to say to pull at the right spot of your mind, you could have only nodded. You even spread your legs for him further.

Seeing your approval, Jing Yuan didn’t waste any time. His tongue circled around your clit before he dragged it down your slit and dived into your hole. It was so sudden you had to grab onto the counter and involuntarily squeezed your thighs around him. It didn’t discourage him, if anything he’d gladly die like this as long as it’s a proof of how good he was making you feel.

General grabbed tightly onto your thighs, his strong and big hands on behind of them, as if encouraging you to use his face. While you were scared to do so, not willing to hurt, you were well aware he was too intelligent to overestimate his own strength. Not to mention your own desperation wasn’t holding you back that much.

You started to wriggle your hips back and forth, not too much pressure, but enough to get all the friction and press for you to be satisfactory and allow you chase the pleasure earlier. Jing Yuan groaned into your pussy, lapping eagerly at anything your body produced. Hearing your moans only encouraged him.

You’ve never seen him more aggressive, but you wouldn’t mind being his victim.

Phainon

One of Phainon’s favorite activities with his muse was spending time outside, surrounded by a quiet nature with no one to bother you two. While he wouldn’t mind spending money and effort on something more extravagant, anything to make you smile, it was moments like this he enjoyed the most. Moments where the world felt safe and not rushed for once. Just you, him and the trees sheltering you from the unbearable heat; relaxing by the sound of rushing river nearby.

You were both seated on the blanket, your backs against one of the trees. Phainon had his arm wrapped around you, keeping you next to his side. He tried to focus on your conversation, staring at the pond and greenery ahead of you; he tried to enjoy the breeze—only to end up thinking about you and your pleasant scent against him. While his face was calm, it was a small blush on his pale skin that betrayed him. You could have been years in relationship with him and he’d still soak in your presence, having a crush on you all over.

You looked at him with a smile, feeling charmed by his sweetness. “Something on your mind?” you asked and rubbed his cheek to tease, seeing the blush grow. He chuckled nervously, however, he couldn’t help but state the truth for you. “Would it be a crime to say I think about my love?”

“Hmm…” you pretended to judge his words as if it was a ‘yes’ option, “well, maybe not, but… I like the idea of you thinking of me anyway.”

“It’s as if you want to give me a heart attack…” he cleared his throat, feeling his heart race when just hearing your words; not to mention seeing you look so pretty today. Also, your happiness with him was noticeable so he felt encouraged to kiss your lips, gently. Something you returned as gently, feeling so lightheaded from the peace both nature and your lover had brought you—or the press of his hand on your back.

Yet, no matter how much he wanted to be gentle, his love for him was making him a desperate as well; a prisoner in a desire for your body, attention and all that you could give him. That’s why his hand, not so sneakily, traveled under the pretty dress you wore today—a change from a typical outfit on Amphoreus. Phainon’s skilled hands touched between your thighs and you whimpered for him against his lips. Your skin was still sensitive from the little marks he’s left there yesterday.

Even more encouraged with your willingness and eagerness of your own, Phainon pulled you onto his lap, making you straddle him. He leaned back against the tree, and his hand rubbed over your waist as you both made out. When he stopped to give you two more air, he looked around and back at you. “My sweet, can I try something with you?”

Your eyes widened. You had no idea what exactly he wanted; however, it was obviously something of sexual nature and you two happened to be outside. Phainon quickly cleared your worry, noticing a slight anxiety. “No need to stress, there’s no one around. And I’d hear them from a mile if they were.”

“Oh…”

Straddling him, feeling his growing bulge against your pussy in your underwear when the skirt of your dress was around his legs—it was hard to refuse him. Not to mention that you were curious of his new idea.

“But…”

“… what is it?” you teased, before you were kissing his jaw, testing if he can speak through something like this. He could, but didn’t you make it difficult.

“Uh..uh, I just wish for you to…” he started rather shyly, “… to feel you on my face. I’ve heard… it’s good.”

You raised your brow. You didn’t think he’d discuss something like this with someone else. “Yeah? And where did you hear that?”

“Let’s just say… some people in the city, lovers rather, they can be quite shameless in public and say whatever.” Phainon cringed.

“And you believe them regardless, huh?” You enjoyed his embarrassment, but then you chuckled softly. “Still, I guess it’s fine. As long as you’re not scared of me breaking your nose or something.”

He sighed in relief, though he was still agitated by the fluster. Regardless, the excitement had won. “No, I’ll be fine… let’s just…”

Phainon (awkwardly yet strongly) helped you to put your crotch above his face. He was still seated on the grass while you stood on the sides of his body, before you pressed your palms against the tree. Phainon flipped your skirt over and shoved it under the belt around your waist to hold it in place.

“Okay, let me…” Phainon gently pushed your panties to the side, keeping them on just in case you both need to quickly run away. He let out a shaky breath against your pussy, sending a chill up your body. “You’re pretty even there…” he mused, and this time it was you embarrassed from the comment. “Just… shut up and do your work.”

He was now the one laughing at you and wasted no time to start. Licking you up and down, gently at first, with his hands rubbing against your knees. You kept your palms pressed against the tree, but it was difficult to stay in place. “Phainon…” you moaned out quietly, as if afraid your voice would echo too much in the forest.

“Yes, please keep saying my name like that… I beg you.”

Mydei

You and Mydei were no strangers to taking baths together. A private bathing chamber has been reserved for the prince for years, yet it was just recently that you started to be a guest of it; both of you soaking naked in the warm water.

All better for him.

As much as he enjoyed peace and silence, your presence was arguably even more soothing to him—especially when you were kind enough to rub his back or wash his hair.

“Does it hurt?” you asked gently, as you were washing his back where one of the injuries have landed during a rough fight. While it wouldn’t kill an immortal, it didn’t mean you wouldn’t want to spare him pain.

Mydei sighed. “No, it doesn’t hurt. I could take worse and I’d be fine. You’re such a worrywart sometimes…” he teased, making you groan. “I’m worried about my husband and he’s being ungrateful about it,” you grumbled.

Your dislike only made him chuckle, knowing you’re used to his dismissal about his own body. However, he was actually grateful for your care and love. He’d walk through the fire for you… not that he’d die from that. His sense of protection was well hidden under his aggressive remarks about you being not careful enough (hypocrisy, yeah), yet you knew the true meaning of them.

After you finished washing his back, you stood up from the pool you were sitting in to grab an ointment, pushing your legs through waves of water you created by walking. Mydei saw an ointment application as unnecessary, but he wouldn’t deny himself of your gentle hands on his back.

Although, you committed a one mistake here. Your bare form standing right in front of his golden eyes, as you leaned over to grab a can package inspired something in him—your mound was right against his face. Well, almost, but too close in his mind to not be provoking; not to mention your body glistened from the wetness of your naked skin. All combined with the fact he had a lot to release was a deadly combo.

However, he didn’t wish to release it upon you and risk hurting you, no matter how much you liked him being rougher with you; so a sly man he was, he came up with another idea. His favorite drink was a pomegranate juice, but your juices were his second favorite.

“Wife,” Mydei growled and suddenly grabbed onto your thighs, pulling them close to his shoulders, “do you even know what you’re doing?”

You let out a yelp of surprise, staring at him both flustered and confused. “What am I doing, Mydei?”

“Parading naked around will only entice this lion, love,” he said sternly. “But we’re bathing—” “Yes, but it doesn’t mean you have to push your sweetness right against my face…” he interrupted, clicking his tongue.

“No matter. Just sit on my face,” he said bluntly. Your agape mouth in reaction was satisfying to him. Mydei tended to be cold but it didn’t mean he couldn’t relax with a right person and enjoy banter with them. His beautiful wife, specifically. His hands suddenly slapped onto your ass cheeks, more teasingly than to cause actual pain, but still enough to instill a portion of excitement into you.

“Why thought?” you said through a shaky voice. “Because I need to relax and because I want to pleasure my wife?” he asked as if the answer was obvious, a lazy smile on his face to tease further.

The idea of you being his respite made you feel warm… except your pussy felt warm now too.

But, you were left a bit speechless for too long to his liking, and so Mydei couldn’t really wait anymore. That’s why he started everything for you. He manhandled you by your hips, forcing you to quite literally have your wetness sat down on him. He wasn’t even holding you up above it—you were resting on his face, and he ignored the drops of water falling on it.

One of the stairs leading deeper into the water, your feet rested there and your hands on the tiles of the floor ahead—like on fours. Mydei’s back was against the edge of the pool.

“I can take it and you will do as well, wife,” Mydei growled with a muffled tone under your pussy. You weren’t given a chance to protest before and you weren’t given any chance now as well, as he was immediately working his tongue on you. You couldn’t complain anyway.

As he pleasured you, breathing was difficult for Mydei. Not that it stopped him from sucking on your clip and shoving his tongue into your hole in intervals. His hands squeezed on your hips enough to bruise and he wasn’t letting you move by even an inch.

“M-Mydei…” you cried out, continuously spilling such gorgeous calls and moans. His nose nudged right against your clit, the tip of it bending, when he was having his tongue inside and you momentarily panicked. “Wait, I’ll break it!”

“Break it? You think some broken nose would stop me?” he scoffed, before he was eating you out even harder. He won’t let you go, pulling orgasms out of you, until he’s sure he’ll have to carry you back from how limp your legs will become.

Mr. Reca

“Are you sure this shot is necessary?” you asked with a raised brow, as if in disapproval. Because what was happening was rather… interesting. You, standing above your boyfriend, with him lying on the cold floor between your legs and taking picture of your underwear and thighs. Rather naughty, however you both had an agreement that it’s fine as long as it’s just for his private collection.

“Of course, my dear,” Mr. Reca admitted with another snap of the camera, an excited look on his face that reminded you one of the dog. It was quite obvious to you that he enjoyed when you were condescending with him.

“And what will you do with them later? Jerk off when I’m not watching?” you teased with a cruel smile. He let out a strangled, annoyed noise with a flush betraying the fact you were right. Not to mention…

He felt as if he was worshipping you when he let you talk to him like that.

“Well… anyway, can you put your foot on my shoulder now?” he asked hopefully. He really was eager for things you’ve never thought of yourself before, which didn’t mean you weren’t excited by the power you held. “You nasty…” you scolded. “Like this?” you said harshly and placed your foot right on his left shoulder.

He groaned, feeling himself growing hard in his pants, and took another shot of you looking down on him. “Yes… perfect, my muse.”

Suddenly, his eyes widened when he noticed something about your panties. There was a darker spot on them, meaning you were getting aroused as well. But your mutual excitement wasn’t the main reason of his attention—it was your panties themselves that were now his focus. He quickly took another shot, zooming in the camera to catch the art.

“H-hey, darling?” he asked nervously. You rolled your foot against his shoulder of his body on the floor, and nodded at him, “Yeah?”

He gulped, seeing you have such an intense look on your eyes. “Could you… kneel down for a moment?”

You scoffed. “For what? Use your words.”

Dammit, your anger went straight to his cock. “Can you… put your crotch on my face?” his voice came out as shaky, both from an excitement and nervousness at your possible rejection. He’d like both being rejected and given, but the latter he liked more.

“Why? You want me to suffocate you or something?” you asked with curiosity. As much as you liked ruling Mr Reca, there was still some things you were figuring out whether you or he would be comfortable with.

“Not quite… I just want you to use my face as a seat,” he admitted shamelessly, his heart racing when he saw you rub your thighs at the mention.

“You are really disgusting sometimes. But fine, I’ll humor you…” you feigned disgust and dropped down to your knees, each on the side of his head. “Just.. tap my thigh or something if you are too scared to go.”

Seeing your clothed pussy above his face, smelling your arousal through them, he could have only nodded against your panties, placing his camera on the floor. He didn’t dare to touch you with his hands without your permission.

When you felt a first lick agaisnt the wet spot, you were surprised he didn’t ask you to remove your underwear first. “Hey… aren’t you doing it wrong?” you felt confused, even if the material added friction and you had to squirm against his face.

He moaned at the pressure on his face, feeling his nose get wet. “Please… keep them on. I need them… soaked like this.”

You sighed at his perversion. As much as you acted as if you hated him, in the end you’d indulge him in as always; slowly getting used to his ‘creative’ ideas. “You better do a good job at pleasuring me, then,” you warned.

Reca grinned, delirious in relief. “Yes, ma’am.”

[iseriads-nonesense]

The Icebreaker (Or: How I Accidentally Started a Revolution)

The Great Hall of Arkanheim Academy was packed. Every graduating student, every professor, and even a few junior years who had snuck in despite the very clear No Unauthorized Entry wards (which, honestly, were far too easy to bypass).

Tonight was the Final Spellcasting Rite, the grand test where each wizard, after sixteen years of grueling academia, would craft a spell that embodied their very soul. It was supposed to be a moment of great revelation, a defining moment in magical history.

Except everyone already knew what was going to happen.

It was always Fireball.

Oh sure, every student insisted they had made something unique. They would tweak the incantation, add an extra hand motion, change the temperature slightly—maybe even make it a cool shade of blue fire—but in the end?

Fireball.

The faculty didn’t mind. In fact, they were counting on it.

It wasn’t that wizards were incapable of creativity. It wasn’t even that they lacked ambition. The problem was efficiency.

Everyone knew you could modify spells. The formulas were flexible enough that, in theory, a skilled enough mage could completely rewrite a spell into something new. The issue was that doing so was a massive pain.

A spell like Fireball was finely tuned. Changing it required painstaking adjustments, testing, recalibrating the arcane weave so it didn’t misfire. It was like taking apart a clock, replacing every gear with something slightly different, and then hoping it still told time.

Most students, when faced with the choice of creating something entirely new or just tweaking a classic, chose the latter. Why go through the agony of reconstructing magic when you could just rename Fireball and be done with it?

That was why I was making waves before I even stepped up to cast.

Everyone knew I was doing something different.

I had told them.

And that terrified them.

The Whispered Reckoning

I had spent the last few days leading up to the test openly discussing my plan. It had started as an idle conversation with my best friend, Darian, but quickly spread like wildfire (or, in my case, icefire).

"You’re actually going to do it? Change Fireball into something else?" Darian had asked, wide-eyed.

"Why not?" I had shrugged.

"Because it’s a massive pain in the ass?"

"That’s a wizard’s excuse," I had countered. "I’m a sorcerer."

That had shaken him.

It wasn’t that anyone disliked me—I had spent sixteen years pretending to be just another wizard, after all. But when I reminded people that I wasn’t just studying magic, that I actually was magic, it unsettled them.

Wizards were craftsmen. I was a forge.

News spread fast. By the time the night of the test arrived, the entire graduating class was waiting for me to either succeed spectacularly or explode violently.

The March of Fireballs

The test began.

Lorik the Bright went first. He stood tall, chest puffed out like a rooster who had just learned what an ego was, and proclaimed:

"Infernal Sunstrike!"

A perfectly round Fireball shot forward, exploded against the stone target, and reduced it to rubble.

The faculty nodded. One down.

Seraphina Moonwhisper was next. With a graceful flourish, she whispered her incantation:

"Aetherial Pyre!"

Fireball.

The professors barely reacted. Two down.

And so it continued. One by one, every student cast some version of Fireball. Some made it bigger, some made it hotter, some made it spin like a flaming pinwheel of doom, but in the end, all roads led to incineration.

By the time it was my turn, the faculty had settled into their usual Fireball-Induced Apathy™.

My Moment to Shine (Or Freeze, Technically)

I stepped forward.

The room buzzed with anticipation. The other students sat forward in their seats. A few bets had been placed—mostly on whether or not I would survive the attempt.

I took a breath.

I felt the power in me—the mix of wizardly discipline and sorcerous instinct—meld together.

This was it.

I raised my hands, felt the arcane weave shift in response, and spoke the words.

"Glacialis Orbis!"

A shimmering blue sphere shot from my hands, trailing mist as it soared through the air.

Instead of an explosion of fire, there was a sharp, crystalline crack.

And then—

Frost.

Ice rippled outward from the impact, spiraling across the target in delicate, fractal patterns. Within seconds, a massive crystalline flower of ice stood where the target once had, its petals glistening under the hall’s torches.

The Aftermath (or How to Break a Faculty in Three Seconds)

Silence.

The professors sat frozen (metaphorically, thankfully).

Professor Yelwin, the head of Evocation, was the first to react. He sputtered, making a noise somewhere between a dying cat and a man having his entire worldview shattered.

"You—" He pointed a shaking finger at me. "You can’t just—just—change Fireball!"

I blinked at him. "Why not?"

"Because—" He flailed, gesturing wildly at the massive ice sculpture I had just created. "Because—it’s—it’s Fireball!"

"It was Fireball," I corrected. "Now it’s Cryoball. A modified version that uses liquid nitrogen instead of pure heat, dispersing on impact to instantly freeze the target instead of incinerating it."

Professor Valdrin, who had taught me runic theory, made a strange wheezing noise.

Professor Eldrin, who had spent an entire semester teaching us how to alter spells but then immediately discouraged us from actually doing it, looked like he had just witnessed the arcane equivalent of heresy.

The students, however, were losing their minds.

"That was insane!"

"Wait, can we all do that?"

"Hold up—does that mean Fireball isn’t the only answer?!"

The faculty huddled together, whispering furiously. I caught snippets like "Dangerous precedent!", "Rewriting the curriculum?", and "WHAT IF THEY START THINKING?!"

The headmaster turned back to me, visibly pale. "Listen," he said, forcing a smile. "You—er—pass. Congratulations. Now—" his voice dropped to a whisper, "—please, for the love of all that is arcane, do not tell next year’s students how you did that."*

I met his gaze, barely containing my grin.

"Oh, of course, Headmaster."

A pause.

A long pause.

"You’re going to tell them, aren’t you?"

"Absolutely."

A chair exploded behind him.

Professor Yelwin screamed.

And that’s how I accidentally started a revolution.

At the culmination of their magical career, each wizard is told to look deep into their heart and develop a personal spell, a spell only they know that truly reflects who they are on the inside, all their virtues and vices incarnate as magic.

It's always Fireball. The wizard schools live in fear of their apprentices figuring it out.

[shomatoriashi]

02/06/25; 05:22pm

sung jinwoo x fem.reader

thinking about meeting sung jinwoo for the first time during college.

despite your university being a larger school, you always took notice of a tall young man with startling, grey eyes named sung jinwoo. he seemed kind enough while sporting a smile that seemed to be as mysterious as the moonlight (not quite reaching his eyes, but always captivating nonetheless.) he was quite popular among your female peers, often being the object of their affections as they tried to gain his attention (almost desperately.)

of course, you were all too aware of how achingly charming jinwoo was: devastatingly handsome while being the star track runner for your university’s team, even if you had the courage to speak to him, there was no way in hell that he’d even remember such a closed off girl like you.

so, you did your best to avoid jinwoo’s line of sight, and it worked for the time being-

that is, until you ended up being in the same philosophy course with him. you had found that out when you had taken your seat in the back row, only to feel your heart physically drop when jinwoo entered the same classroom with a few of his friends.

you duck behind your philosophy textbook, mentally cursing yourself. you really didn’t want to be close to jinwoo, since you had no desire to even get a glimpse of his personality (fearing that you’ll end up yearning for him like the others did.) as you debated with yourself whether to switch out or not, in the end, you chose to stick around, realizing that you didn’t look pretty enough to capture his attention to begin with.

so, the semester was calm for the most part. your philosophy class only met every monday, wednesday, and friday, so it wasn’t like jinwoo would take notice of you during those class times. in fact, he seemed to enjoy talking with his friends, jinho and mincheol, the majority of the time. in a way, you were happy to be able to keep your peace.

that is until one day, you realize that jinwoo had forgotten one of his belongings in class. the sleek black phone was settled on his desk-

and you were the only one that was left behind.

you pace around the classroom, wondering how jinwoo could leave behind something so important like his phone! your eyes kept glancing at his phone, feeling like it was mocking you, since you weren’t cruel enough to leave it behind.

letting out a shuddering breath, you take jinwoo's phone and began your search for the star student, heading outside of the humanities building as you looked helplessly from side to side. despite not having a single clue where he would be, you find yourself walking towards the library. perhaps if you were lucky, you'd be able to find jinwoo studying somewhere.

you enter the library, the scent of printed paper bound into a variety of tomes filling your senses as you began your search for jinwoo. yet when you saw him settled on a table just a few feet away from the library's entrance-

you had a sneaking suspicion that he had been waiting for you.

with a shake of your head, you hold his phone in a tighter manner, walking up to jinwoo as you softly called out to him. "jinwoo?"

he was writing something in his notebook, with his gloved hand settled beside him. he sees your approaching figure and smiles, saying your name in such a gentle tone that it causes the heat to rise to your cheeks. you cough and quickly settle his phone next to him. "y-you left this behind in class."

a series of rich chuckles was heard coming from his parted lips, "is that so? my apologies for being so forgetful then." although he attempted to sound sincere, there was a subtle smirk that graces his features, letting you know that he had intentionally done this-

but for what reason, you couldn't say for sure.

taking a polite step back, you give jinwoo a stiff bow, "w-well, that's all i wanted to do. if you'll excuse me."

not even waiting for his reply, you turn yourself away from him, becoming dimly aware of the sounds of a chair moving as a warm grip felt on your wrist prevents you from moving forward. "wait." you heard his voice in your ear now, making you tremble as you tried to calm down your rapidly beating heart.

time felt like it had stood still when jinwoo slowly turns you around to face him, molten silver eyes drinking in your sheepish expression as he places the pad of his thumb on your bottom lip. you tremble at the sensation of his touch on your skin, feeling like your knees would give in any minute now from witnessing the smug expression on his stupidly handsome face.

"you're always trying to avoid me, it's cute, but at the same time..." jinwoo trails off, his hand now gripping at your chin so that you were fully looking at him, "it bothers me."

words failed you, with your mouth opening and closing as you struggled to find the right things to say. instead, jinwoo just smiles at you, hands caressing at your cheek before confessing to you, "the more you try to hide away from me, the more it fuels my need to chase after you. you're... so different from anyone else i've ever met. quiet, yet kind and beautiful."

your breath hitches in response to his words, earning another grin from jinwoo as he slowly frames at your face with his two hands, "i knew i had to trap you somehow, to get you to notice me... so... i took advantage of your kindness and left my phone behind, knowing that you'll return it back to me."

jinwoo continues to captivate you, and you felt your heart already becoming ensnared by his charm when he leans down to press a kiss against your lips. it was a chaste kiss, one that was no heavier than dew as you felt the sparks begin to fly from beneath your closed eyelids.

and when jinwoo takes a hold of your hand while settling your form next to him, interlocking his fingertips with yours, you knew that you could never get away from him-

not minding this fact one bit as jinwoo tied himself to your life.

end notes: a quick fluffshot for jinwoo before i post my next story

(⺣◡⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[inkyquince]

The Problem Child

characters. Caleb (Love and Deep Space)

cw. Female Reader. Pseudo-incest (adopted siblings). Drugging (not of reader, and not in a sexual nature). Gentle coercion. Insane incest kink. light scent kink. implied clothes stealing. Reader receiving oral (Caleb doesn't even THINK about making you return the favor). Implied loss of virginity but not a big focus.

notes. A commission from @letstalktea! Final word count is slightly over 10k words!

Caleb was always the one Grandmother had been the most wary of. He knew it from the first day they met each other, her soft smile doing nothing to offset the starched white color of her lab coat. By now he knew what they meant. Knew what they did. Her hands were soft, warm, but it didn’t mean her grip wasn’t firm, with nails that left marks. Never on him, no she learned her lesson that he could bite. No. Marks on.. You. 

It didn’t change anything when Grandmother took them away. With you, his other half, tucked into her side, clinging to her overcoat, his hand squished in her sweating one as they hurried in the night. She might have forgotten the monster that had stolen them away and kept them safe, but he never would. Caleb could keep a grudge for years, with his perfect memory. No, you used your memory as you should. Keeping track of his slights and when he owed you candies. The sweetest little sister anyone could have, who by a miracle, had no memory at all of what happened. Just.. The tail end of it. You sometimes woke up crying, and he’d be at your side in seconds, letting you curl your arms around his neck and holding him close, whimpering. You would mumble about smoke, and ash and debris and he’d be unable to be the one to chase them away. Caleb sometimes dreamed of cracking open your head, to slice the memory free, kiss the bleeding organ and stitch the skin back together. He’d be so careful, refusing to damage any part of you outside of the pain, the hurt, the panic. Maybe you’d feel a sharp pain every now and then, the phantom pain of something that should be there twinging at you, but he’d take that. You would too, with two painkillers, a glass of water and a kiss to the scar he left. 

But he couldn’t. Not when so young, with a wish that was impossible. Maybe Grandma would have succeeded, but he wouldn’t have allowed it. No, even when she would take the two of you for your shots, he’d watch closely, with a scowl that wouldn’t disappear, no matter how many lollipops were waved in his face by nurses. Even at home, he took over your scrapes, gently unpeeling plasters, dabbing cotton balls against blood, held your hand as the sting hit you. Caleb was the one to look after you. As he always would. 

This was a fact he knew ever since he’d even met you. Ever since he pressed his finger into the center of your small palm and felt you squeeze it feebly. He knew it every day, when he awoke, knowing there was something else out there, ready to hurt you at any moment. He hated that he had to pick his fights. Caleb could lock you into the attic, could hold you after every nightmare, could promise you that he would take you above the clouds, but someone would let you out. You could wander away. Someone else would get to you, let you out, unaware that this world would ruin you. 

Even worse… If he was the one to lock you up, if you knew he was the one, then you’d look at him differently. Caleb couldn’t bear that. He already did so much to keep… Dirtier parts of himself away from your eyes. He was proud of what he did for you, but you spooked easier than your pride would allow you to admit. Thunder made you shake, lighting had you hiding under your covers. A simple cut to your finger had you on the verge of tears, colds made you fuss worse than any teething baby. You claimed you could face down monsters, bullies, anything that awaited out there in the wilds. But he never really believed you, even with all your insisting that you could. 

Sometimes he overheard Grandma calling him a little monster, under her breath usually, whenever she got another call, from… School. Your friends’ parents. Whomever.  It was in the looks of the people he went against, with his group of friends flanking him. Sometimes in the eyes of adults, who thought they knew better. Maybe they did. After all, something deep inside of him knew. Knew that he could dote on you all he liked, carry you everywhere, make sure you would always be safe, but something had been written into his heart a long time ago, along with the minuscule scars from needles, and the nightmares were there was breathing tubes still pressed against his face, with monitors beeping loudly in the sterile room. 

They had made sure he had the heart of a predator, pumping hot blood through his veins. The same people who made you… 

You. 

The prey to his predator. The little red riding hood to his wolf. But in turn you were his weakness too. The hunter to his Wanderer. 

Maybe that’s why he liked to change the books he read to you when you needed to sleep. Red Riding Hood started winding her fingers into the Wolf’s fur and babbled about the flowers she picked up. You didn’t even notice when the grandmother was written out of his version. No one else, just you and your wolf. 

No, no one else. But stories couldn’t become reality, no matter how many times he scribbled out the words on the page and wrote in what he wanted. 

However, like a wolf, he did bite. 

Some no name boy in your class. He made you cry. You had brought one of your plushies to school. You had a nightmare the night before, curling against Caleb like the two of you were twins in the womb, safe. And Caleb couldn’t come with you into your classroom, he was the building over. As per usual, he waited for you, by the gates, waving his friends on. He made it clear to Grandma that he was taking over walking you home, no stops. And when you appeared, your pigtails loose and limp, your school bag hanging off your shoulder and dangling pathetically, with your plushie in one hand, its ripped bunny ears in your other hand. Fluff drifting in the wind, loosening from the open gash. 

He made fun of you. For your soft, pale yellow bunny that you had won yourself, tucked in your bag, with its long ears sticking out of the top. Then took it from you. And hurt you. 

You didn’t stop crying, even after he promised to get some sweets. To sew the ears back on. Just the act of someone hurting something you held dear, something with no nerve endings being hurt, made you ugly cry. Your empathetic, soft heart couldn’t take it. Blood was too violent of a liquid to be pumping through your veins. He could swear that the same stuffing that fattened your plushies flowed through your own body. 

And Grandma dared to look at him, when you two came through the door, like he caused this. She took your elbow and cooed and it wasn’t until you blubbered out what had happened, did she finally drop the accusatory look. 

While you were fed cookies and a mug of something warm, he went back out. Caleb wasn’t even sure what he did, letting the anger thrumming in his veins take control. He remembered using his Evol to make the boy drop to his knees, giving a cry of pain. All he did remember, is that the taste of blood didn’t leave his mouth for a week, even when he brushed his teeth under Grandma’s watchful eye. You mentioned in passing, swinging your connected hands as you walked, that one of the boys in your class had an accident and somehow ripped the top part of his ear. You couldn’t tell if it was torn all the way off, he had a big puffy bandage over all of it, but he resembled your one eared rabbit. 

It went on. Caleb coming to your rescue. Didn’t mean he couldn’t be the one teasing you senselessly most days. You’d stomp your foot like a little rabbit, exactly like the ones he saw all those years ago, their beady red eyes staring at him, sleek white fur clumped and ruffled. Even the way you’d glare at him from the side matched theirs. Except he got to pet you. Ruffling your hair every time he’d slight you, and you’d lose the glare and the pout… Most of the time. 

Except one time… 

He had said something. Or did something. But you stomped away from him, hair swishing as Caleb ambled after you, laughing his apologies. He didn’t even see the boy sitting there until you lunged forward, grabbing him by the hand holding the pages of the book open. 

“No! I’m going to play with Zayne and you’re not allowed to come!” You yanked the lanky kid after you, blind to the bewildered look behind his glasses. 

Caleb let the easy smile slip from his face. Whatever remained must have been chilling, if the look Zayne had on when he glanced back over his shoulder at him. They never seemed to really like each other, despite you liking the boy next door quite a lot and Caleb always being a few steps away. 

Time went on, you two grew up, Grandma’s back started having issues. Zayne moved away. You stopped coming to his bed when there were thunderstorms. You made your own friends, and you’d come to him when things were bad. You asked Grandma about certain things you were going through, even though Caleb took it upon himself to look everything up, wanting to be the one you could rely on no matter what. Periods, bras, feelings, everything in-between. It didn’t matter if you covered your ears and basically screeched every time he even tried to bring it up. 

It was bound to happen. You gently disentangling the strings that used to tie you together, even if you didn’t sever them completely. You’d never do that. While you seemed to thrive and float up above the rest of them, Caleb… Well. 

Grandmother went from wary to deeply vigilant. She sometimes probed you about him. He always overheard it. Maybe she was going slightly deaf and couldn’t whisper as low anymore. She’d ask if he had asked you to keep any secrets from anyone, bribed you with sweets or plushies. She did it when you were younger too, but she went from asking if you thought he was hurting anyone to if he ever made you uncomfortable. Which was stupid really. Caleb would burn himself for your comfort. He just made sure to ease you into most things, from tying your own shoelaces, to actually doing your homework instead of disappearing to the garden, to go play. 

What Grandma didn’t know was that you two were like swans. A swan pair, not needing anyone else, living their whole lives together. Even if he didn’t bribe you, you’d never tell on him… Mainly because he could do no wrong in your eyes. He was safe. He was good.

You were the only one to believe that, of course. Grandmother knew better, she had seen inside of him in every way. And there came the tipping point where Caleb knew he wasn’t good either. Safe? For you? Always. 

He stopped believing he was good one sunny day you two were sitting in the garden, you on your tummy in the grass, and he, cross legged beside you. He had just noticed a clip in your hair, one you didn’t leave the house with. A tiny heart decorated it, twinkling in the sun. Caleb flicked it and you scrunched your nose at him with annoyance as it slid out of place. 

“Caleb, stop.” You unclipped it and combed your strands back in place. 

“What is it?” 

“A hair clip, dummy.” 

“I know it’s a hair clip, bigger dummy.” Caleb rolled his eyes, but still leaned over to fix your hair in place for you to slide it in. “It’s new.” 

“It’s a present.” You clipped it back in, now kicking your feet gently. “A girl in my class gave it to me for Love Day, with some chocolates. Asked if we could go to the aquarium together for White Day.” 

Caleb stilled, his fingers still in your hair. For one moment, his head was silent. Then it was like a fighter jet breaking the sound barrier. Others could see what he always saw. Something good and wonderful and someone to cherish. Maybe others could see, Zayne certainly did, but maybe he never thought that someone could see also… More. More than he did, at least. He knew the two of you would be together forever, swans. But he never thought of something like marriage. He loved you but it took a girl, with no face, no name, nothing to her, giving you some misshapen chocolates and a cheap hair clip, to realise that there was more to his love than just adoration, servitude, protection. More. Much more, much deeper, and whatever it was, it had teeth. The taste of blood tinged his tongue. 

“She’s pretty, but sometimes she pinches me to get my attention and Zayne, you remember Zayne?” Oblivious to something unfurling, growing, like a lick of flame to dried fuel, tinder waiting to be ruined, you babbled on, still kicking your grass stained feet. “Zayne once said he saw her chewing her ice cream and he was sure that she couldn’t go through life without chewing on it a bit first. It made me laugh and I accidentally snorted my juice, remember? I still miss him. Anyway, I thought back to that and starting thinking that if she wanted to kiss me in front of the fish, she might bite me instead and-” 

“Huh?” Caleb could feel smoke catching in his throat. 

“Kissing. What if she bites me first? She bites a lot of things. And that would kinda suck? But I don’t know if I should return her presents to me if I say I don’t want to go to the aquarium, but me and Granny already ate all the chocolates-” 

“You’d have a bad first kiss.” His words felt rushed, heated. 

“Yeah!” You looked up at him, a small pout already forming. 

Caleb took in your expression, breathing faster than he should. His palms were sweating. Why? He knew why. He was an excellent liar except to himself, he knew every thought and emotion that drove his actions, his tongue, his teeth. He was nervous, his body unsure while his mind had never been so clear before. 

It wasn’t dirty. Swift, close lipped, dry… Warm. The phantom of chocolate lingered on your lips. It was… Sweet. 

And then you burst into tears. 

“Caleb you, you, you- You!!” You got to your feet, grass stains covering your clothes, tears pricking your eyes. 

After one rabbit stomp of your foot, you darted back inside the house. Caleb was a bit stunned, the euphoria of your- his- both of your first kiss, your quick dart away, the fire beginning to grow to its full flame in his belly. He got back up, unable to help the laughter spilling from his lips, even as he entered the kitchen, Grandma moping at your tears. She looks up at him, angry, accusatory. 

“It was a joke!” Was the only thing he could manage, all of his teeth showing in his grin, still unable to stop the chuckles. 

That was the first time he ever felt like he deserved Grandma’s punishment, but also… He didn’t. It didn’t matter anyway, being sent to bed without dessert, since you hid a plate of moon cakes behind your back and tapped on his door. Your eyes puffy, but your smile intact, sweets in hand. Even you forgave him easily. You’d never be mad at him for too long. 

So life went on. 

You never had a boyfriend- or a girlfriend- while growing up. You still relied on him like he was your other half. Swans. As if he hadn’t hurt the other kids growing up. As if he didn’t still think about your first kiss in the garden, even though you more or less wiped it from your memory.

As if his teeth felt sharper, and the smoke wasn’t painting his insides black. As if he started locking his door before unzipping his trousers, just to drag his fingers against his half hard cock, drunk off just his thoughts. His beautiful, disgusting thoughts. First, he would just focus on the feeling of your lips against his. It was a pure moment, just the synapses in his brain couldn’t help but fire off at the memory. The time it took him to cum was embarrassingly short, if he looked back on it. But the more he got used to the pleasure, to last longer, the more he grew used to the memory. Still excited him, but it was barely a low burn compared to what it was before. 

Take the afternoon that you got your results, the affirmation that you were going to be gone by September, to university. It was different to him leaving for school. He was leaving you with a woman that couldn’t fight against you if needed. You were exactly where he left you, waving in the rear view mirror. Waving him back home too. Like you had been frozen in glass in the time he was away, learning, flying. Like you wouldn’t dare to move without his presence. 

But for you to wander off into the world? Not sit quiet and pretty for him to sweep you into his arms and feel you against him, his body?

It was a scrape against his heart, raw. Like your skinned knees when you tripped over your own laces. 

Grandma was so happy and you were practically hopping. The two of you started making plans, to buy new bedding, notebooks, cooking utensils, to prepare you for university, despite there still being 3 months before your term even started. 

Caleb wandered off, satisfied that his charade of smiles and congratulations was enough to appease the two women in his life. He went upstairs, to stand in your doorway, just drinking in the sight of your bedroom. An organised mess, Grandma always called it. The plushies had their place, as did the pictures, the buttons, the knick-knacks you loved to keep around. His eyes snagged on your hamper, nearly overflowing. He had been barred from doing the laundry, instead forever on kitchen duty, the day Grandma found your shirt tucked under his pillow. Completely innocent but ever since your first kiss, she had it out for him. 

With a low, slow exhale, he straightened up, coming to his full height before heading over to your laundry.

“Sorry, Gege just needs to grab something real quick.” He murmured under his breath before starting to idly sort through skirts, shirts, socks, until his fingers grazed the cotton trim of your underwear.

 He slipped them free of the bundle, scrutinising them more than he did his textbooks, his flight plans. Caleb examined them closely, running his thumb over the band before quickly pressing it to his face. Perfect. Worn for a day and thrown in the wash. He did wonder if he dug around more, he would find something you wore longer, but no, he doubted you were one to wear underwear longer than needed… Unlike him sometimes. He folded the garment neatly into a square and headed to his own room, down the hallway. Locking his door was a familiar sensation, downright Pavlovian with the way his cock perked up. 

Lying back, he unbuttoned the top of his jeans, enough to slip his cock free to lie against his stomach, already half hard. Caleb dragged his fingers against the shaft, up to his gently leaking head, but focused more on the underwear wrapped in his fist. A cute spot in the fabric made his brain whir. He could just imagine it. Something exciting you, pressing your thighs together, your pussy wetting itself, getting ready to be played with. Did you ignore it? Or did you hide away in your room, making yourself comfortable before dipping a hand into your underwear. Maybe slipped into the shower and tried to point the shower head at your clit, only to squeal and drop it with the pressure being too intense. He should have checked your drawers for a vibrator or any other toys. Caleb’s mind whirled with scenarios, you trying to work a toy into you, struggling to keep one against your clit, the shower, stuff he’d used before to work himself up, but something else probed at him. 

You, with your toys, with your sensitivity, with the shower head, shyly spreading your legs to show him. Even in his usual day dreams he was more of a voyeur, but… With you slipping free from him, going off-  

Caleb had scared everyone else off. You were going to be in Linkon. New people. Unbroken hymen. Not that an intact hymen meant you didn’t lose your virginity, but fuck, if it was up to Caleb, he’d make sure you were so properly deflowered. The pleasure would be so much that you wouldn’t mind when the creamy ring around the base of his cock was tinged red with blood. 

“Fuck.” The harsh hiss that slipped between his teeth surprised him, the image making him arch his back, thrusting into his hand roughly. 

He leaned over to his bedside drawer, yanking it open to retrieve a bottle of lube. His hand was too dry. He could forgo a firmer grip, for a wetter one. After all, he wouldn’t be like some sort of first boyfriend who had no idea where the clit was and would press into you practically dry. No, he would play with your pussy until you were embarrassingly wet. Not just fingering, he’d suck on your clit until you cried, weakly squirming and trying to kick him off, but he wouldn’t let you. 

His stroking got faster, tighter, warmed lube squelching obscenely. It was getting warmer, approaching how toasty your skin usually was whenever you two hugged, bumped hands, the one time he managed a pinch to just below your breasts while swimming. Earned him a shriek and a swat, with a mouthful of lake water, but worth it. He could just about imagine it would match how cosy it would be between your thighs. Closing his eyes, he could see it. Both of your legs tucked over his shoulder, your tits gently bouncing, still trapped in your bra. Your wide, doe-like eyes looking up at him, as his cock fucked the supple skin, the head peeking out just to drool even more precum onto your panties. Streaks of pearly fluid soaking into the fabric, bunching it up whenever he pushed further against you. You making soft noises every time his shaft rocked along that cute wet patch of your underwear, promising that when he finally peeled it off, the most delicious gift would be there, waiting for him to-

Knock knock knock! 

Caleb yanked his sheets up, over his crotch, his straining cock, flushed and angry, keeping one hand on it lest there be an embarrassing, obvious tent with his blanket. You poked your head in, even before he could give his permission. 

“Hey, hey- Huh? You okay?” You blinked at him, concern etched into your face.

“Yeah. Just taking a moment. What’s up?” 

“Grandma says we should have braised wings.” Your smile was contagious, and Caleb couldn’t help but to show his own teeth right back at you, even with his erection threatening to burst, the sight of you doing something intoxicating to both his heart and his straining balls. 

“Yeah? And who's going to make those?” He ran his tongue over his canine, drinking in the way you immediately pouted. 

“You! To celebrate! Especially after Grandma made me take a year before applying. I’ve been stuck at the doctor’s for most of the summer!” You whined, stepping into his room properly. “Show how proud you are and cook for me!” 

Your sentence trailed off into a childish whine. His cock twitched. He felt it dribble onto his thigh. Caleb couldn’t help it, slowly beginning to massage his shaft again, even with you right there, looking at him with your doe eyes.He had half the mind to urge you to come closer, sit on his bed right next to him. You loved him. You’d look if he asked you to look. Only looking, watching him play with his dick. You’d be quiet, only for a while before beginning to run your mouth. 

Not like in porn. “What are you doing, bro?” or “Stop, we shouldn’t!”. You trusted him. You’d trust him right the way over a cliff. If he wanted you to, you’d watch him stroke his fat cock. Ask you to hold the base as he worked the head. Hell, he could ask if you wanted to taste his balls. You’d scrunch your nose like a bunny and tell him that’s gross. But it would be like leaving peach mochi at your bedside and offering for you to have a bite while Grandma made dinner. You knew you probably shouldn’t, someone (Grandmother) would be mad later if/when she found out but it would be so good. And you trust Caleb and if Caleb gives you something and says it’s okay, you’re leaning over to tongue the sprinkled icing sugar off the soft pink bun. The image of you biting into it and cream running down your chin flickered across his mind and his breath caught in his throat. 

“Yeah?” Caleb exhaled slowly through his mouth. The question perked on the tip of his tongue, increasing how fast he was fisting his cock. Come over here, pip-squeak, big brother wants you to stay and play while. “Ask me nicely.” 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. Brat. 

“Caleb, will you pleeeaaase make us Braised Wings for dinner because I finally get to go to university after being really ill for a long time and you love me and are really really proud of me for doing this!” You did your usual cute schtick, swaying a bit, your cardigan falling off your shoulder, skirt swishing along your thighs. 

Fuck. He could show you how much he loved you. Really loved you, loved you wholly, like a brother, a lover, a friend, like everything he could be to love you in full. His cock drooled thickly onto his hand, slipping between his fingers, down onto his covers. Caleb was too close to cumming. Cumming in front of you. The thought was dizzying. The only thing that could top it was the thought of cumming in you. 

“That’s all you had to say.” The words came out in a croak, his balls tightening. “Go on then. Prep the kitchen for me.” 

You gave a happy almost-chirp and zipped off, your skirt lifting to show him more of the back of your thighs for just a moment. Nearly showed  the edge of your panties. Were they just a bit wet, like the underwear clenched in his fist? 

That delicious thought electrified him. His balls drew in tight against his body, his cock throbbing in his hand and he couldn’t help but give a broken gasp as he came, cum splattering against his stomach. His slow, warm come down ached in a delicious way, as if there had been a hard to reach spot that he couldn’t get to for years, a thought that was hidden away and just out of reach, now being scratched until most of the skin was gone and all that was left was raw, shiny flesh. Unearthed. Breathing.

 It should have extinguished the burn inside. Or just fettered it, only for it to grow bigger later. Except it didn’t. It had been doused with oil, allowed to become a monster of flames and heat. 

Caleb felt it licking at his insides as he seasoned the chicken, tonguing his ribs as you sat just a few steps away, swinging your feet and nattering on about how excited you are, your lessons, meeting new people, seeing a new city. All the while he smiled and chuckled and batted your greedy fingers away from his cooking. Throughout dinner too, even as you wiggled in your seat in delight at the taste, his facade of blithe enjoyment of the evening. Even let you win once at cards before he did his big brother duty of thrashing you, all the while cooing that you’ll get him next time, just keep practising! 

Nothing could get him down. Especially when dark clouds began to roll in, blanketing the sky and starting to rumble like hunger. Thunderstorm. 

Means you would sleep uneasily. 

Means that he could go to you. And you’d let him slip into your sheets. 

It was the storm season. 

His cock dragged against his sweatpants as he kicked off the sheets and padded down the long hallway to your room. Caleb took a moment to press his ear against the door to Grandma’s room, where he heard soft snoring. You two used to have rooms opposite each other, but she stopped trusting him the day his age slipped into the double digits. Satisfied that his usual warden was deep asleep, he continued to your room. 

Didn’t even knock. You didn’t care of course. No, he could violate your privacy in a deeply disgusting way and you’d just think he’d be being a very mean older brother, like all the others in your class who grew up with big meanies like him. You were all tucked up in bed, frowning out the window, but smiled immediately when he slipped in, even scooching further in your bed, to make a space just for him.  

“Thunder doesn’t scare me anymore.” You said, even as you cuddled closer the moment he lay down next to you. 

“I know.” He wound his arm around your shoulders, pulling you even closer, tucking his nose into your hair and inhaling deeply. His cock throbbed with interest once again. You’ve always made him pick your shampoos and conditioners by making him do a sniff test. He always picked apple scents, artificial or not. Caleb pressed a kiss to your temple and you gave a soft hum of content.

You two lied there, curled up, puppies in a pen, kittens in a basket, bunnies in a burrow. His stomach was throbbing, as if TV static had slipped inside and the fuzz began to tickle the linings. He knew what he wanted to do. But also he knew that if he did something… 

His fingers began to gently trace along your shoulder blade, dipping lower, to your forearm. You wiggled a bit, as if it tickled you, but you only gave a soft huff at the sensation. Eventually his palm came to a stop against your rib cage. The hypnotic gentle thumps against his hand made something deep inside of him purr with satisfaction. He remembers watching your heart rate, instead just feeling it. Sitting with his feet on your bedside, your chilled hand in his. Caleb used to crawl into your bed then too, though you both were younger. It was after Grandmother became Grandma and pretended to care enough to take you to the hospital when you were ill, instead of taking you to her sewing room and breaking out her old kit to stitch you up or making you drink some echinacea. 

His arm tightened around you. He liked you more these days. He liked you spoiled and bratty and trying to run rings around him. Not quiet and drawn and looking at him with your big, watery eyes. 

Another kiss. Another hum. Caleb shifted down a bit, so you two were nose to nose, instead of lips to forehead. He could kiss you again. Like all those years ago. But no doubt you’d screech or something. 

He pulled back a bit, letting his hair flop into his eye, looking down at your gently sleepy face. Angel. 

“Hey, remember when we were younger, and whenever you were scared, I told you to hold onto my hand? And everything would be okay?” Caleb gently probes, pulling his hand away from your rib cage to brush strands from your face. 

“O’ course.” You murmured, already sleepy in his embrace.  

“So, you’d grab my hand if you were frightened, or didn’t like what was happening?” 

“Mhm.” 

With that guarantee, he tucked his hand against yours, ready to be grabbed if… If. 

Then he kissed you. Just on the forehead again, enjoying your repeated sigh of happiness when he did it. Did all little sisters sound so blissful when older brothers lavished them with this kind of attention? To be fair, he doubted most older brothers ever wanted to get as… Affectionate as he did. Hell, he already was more touchy than other boys he knew, even with just the hair ruffling and nose pinches.  

Another kiss, to the cheek this time. You wiggled your feet a bit, like you did when you were being tickled and were getting ready to lodge your foot into his rib. Another, a bit closer to your lips. His cock was desperately interested with what was going on, already hard again and digging into his stomach from how he was lying down. One more sweet, brotherly kiss to your cheek (Another soft sigh- No scrunch of your nose). 

Then one to your lips. For the first time in years, not since that day with the sun beating down on his neck, the faint taste of chocolate on your lips and the overwhelming wave that had threatened to engulf his entire being. 

Caleb pulled back. Looking down at you. Your eyes slowly opened. Then you blinked a few times, still sleepy and slow. 

“... That won’t upset me like it did when we were kids. Now lemme sleep, or I’m gonna have to kick you out, even if it is thundering.” You grumbled. Grumbled with a pout. Pouting at him. 

“Really?” He murmured, even as your eyes were closing again. 

Bolder, he did it again, lingering for a second longer this time. You huffed, as if you were getting annoyed by him. Rabbit stomp. But no hand holding. This time he licked his lips, dragging his tongue over his canine. He could taste blood.Caleb took a pause before leaning down, making sure not to go in too quickly this time, savouring the few seconds before your lips met. 

And it wasn't closed mouth this time. 

To be honest, it didn’t feel right, his parted lips against your shut ones, but it didn’t mean he didn’t get any leeway. You couldn’t help but to inhale just a bit. It was dizzying. Warm breath, the tip of his tongue brushing against your top teeth. Your pinky twitched against his hand. The kiss paused, Caleb not pulling away just yet, not wanting to, but knowing he didn’t want to push you at all. 

You made a soft noise, more of a sigh than a whine, and your fingers stilled. So he gently ran his tongue over your teeth, yours touching his for just a moment, but god, it got his cock leaking. He was going to cum in his sweatpants before you two even did… Anything. Anything real. 

But he couldn’t… Couldn’t ignore it. At all. Even a little bit. 

His fingers moved before he realised they did, his free hand dipping under his waistband to grip the base of his cock. He couldn’t help the grunt as he slowly pumped his shaft, already feeling the precum streaking down, instead focusing on peppering your lips with kisses. Caleb could swear that he felt you sometimes, clumsily, pursing your lips every now and then.

His thumb was rubbing against his drooling head when he finally opened his eyes, to look at you, to drink you in. Your own eyes were still closed, but when his desperate kisses paused, you slowly opened them, blinking. Dragging his tongue over his teeth, Caleb gave you a sharp smile, one he usually hid as he turned away from you, or aimed at most boys giving you puppy-love looks. He pressed another fleeting kiss to your lips, stomach tightening at the feeling, which just made his cock throb harder. He couldn’t even hide what he was doing now, the blanket bobbing slowly with each stroke. He couldn’t even catch his damn breath, and you couldn’t be completely clueless about what he was doing, even if you hadn’t watched porn, or… Or. Well, thinking about you finding out about male moaning anywhere other than a few sketchy sites was going to kill his erection, so instead he pressed closer to you, his cock head dragging against your tummy, your lovely soft stomach. 

“Give me a kiss.” He finally uttered. 

You made a small whine, blinking up at him. Your lips wet and glistening, and just… A little bit bitten. Did he do that? Or had you been nibbling? These questions faded away when you made another cute little noise before leaning your head up, eyes darting from his eyes to his mouth… And kissed him. 

Caleb came into the blanket. Some no doubt dripping onto your pajama top, maybe onto the skin of your tummy. 

“F-Fuck!” He hissed through his teeth, bucking his hips a few times, before finally having to let go of his softening cock. 

Your own eyes were glassy. Turned on? God, he hoped. He hoped you could feel your wet pussy as you rubbed your thighs together. Or maybe it was the shock of hearing him swear, since he hated doing it in front of you. And he would usually get smacked on the back of the head by Grandmother if she heard any sort of cussing from him. For just a moment, your gaze looked lost, as if you didn’t recognise him for a moment before going back to the soft haze of lust. 

Beneath the covers, both of you were sweaty. The heat, the breathless touching, the…. The wetness of… Everything. Caleb kicked some of the cover off of his feet, letting you both breathe, just a bit. 

Caleb was about to tuck his face into your neck, murmur softly about how good you were for him, how he wanted to make sure you also felt just as good, to dip his fingers into your sleep shorts and find out exactly how much you enjoyed playing with your big brother, if not for hearing a thump and shuffle from Grandma’s room. Even you stiffened up against him, knowing, while Grandma let a lot of what you shouldn’t do slip by, this would be a touch too bad for her to ignore. Caleb’s breath caught in his throat, heart thudding painfully in his chest. He was convinced you could hear it too. 

He pulled up his sweatpants, ignoring the cum cooling on the fabric and his skin. A throaty cough and more shifting, floorboards creaking, but no door opening just yet. Caleb slipped free of the sheets, breath catching in his throat at the momentary sight of your bare stomach, splattered with some of his cum and the sheets stained. He couldn’t help but to quickly lean in, tangle his fingers in your hair and kiss your forehead, exhaling shakily. You gave a soft sigh when he did so, tilting your head back a bit as if you were hoping for a-

Another wheezy cough. If he cared more, he’d check on her. No time either way. Another kiss to your head before taking long strides towards the door, making sure to avoid all the creaky spots in the floorboards. Creaking open the door, he could see that Grandma’s door was still shut. He glanced back at you, looking debaucherous, needy, all for him, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Shooting you a wry smile, he slipped out, quickly and quietly making his way to his own room, shutting his door just in time as light sliced open Grandmother’s own. He made it to his bed, his sensitive cock grating against his trousers unpleasantly, before his own door slowly opened. He could feel her piercing stare penetrate his bare back, still slightly sweaty from the heat between your sheets. Then, slowly, the door closed. He exhaled long and hard through his nose. 

It felt good. It felt like the fire deep inside of him was burning red hot, but it was safe… Not safe, no, that’s the wrong word. Enclosed, with no chance of burning him up alive. It could roar away, deep inside of him, snapping and hissing, but it wouldn’t lash its fiery tongue outside of him. Unless he lets it. 

He wakes the next day, feeling good. Fulfilled. A heavy weight gone from… Well, if he was uncouth, he’d say from his balls, but it wasn’t only the orgasm in your bed, it was also something in his stomach, right under his rib cage. Caleb had his breakfast, seated opposite from you at the table. You were slightly muted, not as chatty or animated, but you wiggled more in your seat, you seemed… More aware of your body. You brushed crumbs from your shirt, only for your fingers to freeze and quickly curl back into a fist, putting it in your lap. On the other hand, Caleb couldn’t stop touching you. As if a barrier had burnt down to ash. His foot kept sneaking forward to drag against your ankle. He playfully grabbed your waist while you were doing the washing up. Fingers in your hair, poking your soft belly, everything. 

Then the night came again. 

The sky rumbled, but didn’t split. Though, it was still enough of an invitation. Another creep along the hallway. 

It was right. It was good. 

Whispering for you to kiss him, the covers pulled over both of you. Your lips peppering his with little kisses as he slowly stroked himself, his cock head leaking all over your thighs, your shorts haven gotten shorter since the first night. Or that pair went missing. It could be anywhere, still stained, underneath his pillow.

You were… Naive. Gullible. But he knew that you also knew exactly what this was. What was happening as the blanket moved, one hand’s fingers tangled in your hair while the other hand was nowhere in sight. His soft groans against your lips, his heavy breathing. The fact that he moaned, telling you to tell him that you loved him. He came the moment you did, his face tucked into your neck, inhaling your scent as you rubbed your thighs together. 

“You’re not supposed to….” Your sentence trailed off, Caleb’s hand against your rib cage, his thumb slowly caressing just under your nipple. Even you knew that was a stupid line to draw at this stage, and you watched as he came in and swept it away with the tide. 

“Hm?” His sharp eyes dragged up to your face, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. 

You said nothing. A month ago, you’d have screeched and swatted at him for “accidentally” touching you there, before grumbling at him, telling him to be more careful. Now you just watched him with dilated eyes as he continued to skim his nails along your skin. With your continued silence, Caleb finally dragged his palm upwards, cupping your breast, enjoying the feel of it wholly filling his hand. You gave a mix of a whine and a sigh. He liked your noises. His greedy fingers brush against your nipple before giving it a gentle pinch.

“Ow.” You mumbled, using the back of your hand to shield your mouth for some reason. He chuckled and leaned in, kissing your naked palm. 

“Ow? Do you mean that, or…?” 

You fell silent once more, a quiet admittance. But you weren’t quiet for long. Not when your shirt was pulled up to your collarbones and his mouth became busy sucking and licking at your perky tits, the covers muffling all of your soft noises, breath shuddering against your ribs. Your body was so sweet and pliant for him, you didn’t even pretend to hold fast against his free hand slipping down, pinging your waistband (“Ow!”) before tucking his fingers against it, not moving. Not pulling his hand out or plunging it deeper. Rest, letting it rest. You didn’t notice, not with the attention spent on your tits, using his teeth to graze harshly before his tongue licked the swollen skin better. He felt like a dog with a tasty piece of meat, all for himself. 

Good thing he slipped extra sleeping drops into Grandma’s evening tea. She won’t be poking her nose into any rooms tonight. Otherwise he wouldn’t get to-

“Ah! C-Caleb! You’re… My…!” Nothing else coherent could be made out, your soft whines and gasps now risen into long, sweet moans. 

It confirmed something Caleb had wondered about ever since he discovered the joys of shakily playing with his cock. You were loud. Too loud for him to not have heard you touching yourself. With his middle finger slowly rolling against your cute, swollen clit, you were completely unable to keep it down. 

This was probably the first time you’d ever been touched down there. 

Bad news for him. He had just managed to keep from cumming all over himself the moment your fingertips grazed his cock head. Now, here he was, torturing your poor clit, which probably had only been touched whenever your underwear rode up and dragged against it. He did remember a few times your face flushed and you quietly wiggled in your seat, a hand sneaking up the side of your leg. No doubt to pull down your underwear a bit. 

Caleb could feel sweat trickling down his back. Finally, he left your clit alone, your gasps slowly dying as your body could finally relax. Not for long though. He was a bully, even when he did lovingly dote on you. The squeak you let out when his middle finger slowly pressed into you, welcomed by slick, got his cock twitching with sustained interest, alerting him to what it, he, really wanted. To be tucked deep inside of his little sister, warm and snug, instead of what he’s had all these years. A pillow stuffed under his hips for him to desperately hump, with his teeth digging so hard into his tongue that blood coated his mouth. Sometimes his brain wandered, clinging onto the thought of tasting you during the times you held a hot water bottle to your tummy, mumbling about getting a hot drink and some painkillers.

But now… It was real. 

It was real, and it was warm and it was soft and wet and it was you. 

“Want gege to make you feel good?” He finally murmurs, gently letting your nipple slip free from his tongue, swollen, puffy from his ruthless teasing. Your tongue gently drags over your chapped lips, your bottom lip wobbles. Hesitating. “I know you do. You want your brother to take care of you the same way you’ve been taking care of me.” 

After a beat of you simply looking at him with your soft, big eyes, begging even when your mouth couldn’t find the words, he couldn’t help but to smile at you, showing his teeth. You probably felt like you needed to keep whispering you two couldn’t do this, that Grandma was next door, putting up any and all objections you could think of, but he knew you. You were a little hedonist, first with your childish want for more plushies and sweet things in your life, which he was now nursing into something full fledged. Caleb wanted to tease a secret side out of you, a side that would see him and immediately let your legs spread open for him, to let his tongue drag over yours, to never get your own boyfriend while away from him, because everything you could ever need would be found with your big brother. You’d need him as he needed you. To set you alight inside, the same way you had done for him all those years back. 

He wanted you as sick as he was. 

You already trusted him fully, having allowed him to sneak into your room and letting him… Play with you. Of course you raised no objections when he shifts in your bed, instead moving further down the bed before resting on his belly. Caleb couldn’t help but to chuckle as you squeak and cover your clothed crotch with both of your hands, embarrassed by how close his face was to it. It didn’t mean that it hampered his ability to slide your sleep shorts down your legs, even though you refused to move your fingers an inch. He playfully flicks at your digits, before leaning in and biting the tip of one, making you squeak and yank your hands away. 

“Ow! Caleb!”

“That’s another ‘Ow’ you don’t mean.” He snickers before focusing his eyes on your poor pussy, slick from the attention, puffy from the lack of it. 

Before you could whine out an excuse, a response, anything, Caleb had tucked his face securely between your thighs, his lips immediately attaching to your clit and beginning to suck. You couldn’t help but to kick on instinct, arching your back as the pleasure crashed down onto you like a wave. Caleb himself couldn’t stop a moan from slipping free, your taste, your reactions, your everything totally overwhelming him. He couldn’t even stop himself from grinding against the mattress, two of his fingers quickly slipping onto your hole. You tightened around him immediately, the dizzying sound of squelching filling the room as he worked his digits, all the while you couldn’t stop from tensing, arching, wriggling, mewling. 

“Caleb…” You couldn’t help but to whisper, your own fingers fluttering against his hair, unsure if you could wind the strands between your fingers, to grab ahold of him as he became a beast, licking and sucking with abandon. 

It felt like torture, the way he was using his tongue and teeth on you, only sometime stopping to whisper for you to relax, trust him. That all he wanted to do was play with your princess parts after so long only being able to hump pillows and then his muscular thigh during these last few nights. You needed to be seen to, and he was going to be a good big brother to you, and make it up to you. 

He didn’t even notice that you came all over his mouth until you were weakly pressing against his shoulder with your foot, pushing him away, only to get the sight of his slick mouth, his tongue still hanging out as if he was trying to get a final taste before he was forced to depart. Your breathless pants finally clicked what happened and he couldn’t help but to grin down at you, before wiping his lips with his fingers before popping them back in to suck them clean. 

“Tell me you liked it.” He finally said, his cock threatening to burst against his stomach. 

“I… I like it.” You whispered after him, your body completely lax for the first time that night. 

“Again.” Caleb sat up to pull his trousers down enough for his erection to finally spring free, drooling thickly. “Say… Say ‘I loved it, gege.’ Say it.” 

“I…” You inhale at the sight of his bare cock filled Caleb with a deep smugness. He could tell you liked it. “Loved it, gege. I really loved it.” 

“Now… Now…” He desperately thought about what he really wanted to hear. “Tell me you love me. And that you want more.” 

Your eyes met his, need lurking deep within them. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, tongue darting out to drag against your own canine. Your eyes dropped to his hand  when he slipped it into the back pocket of his trousers, slipping a condom free. Your cute little inhale at the sight made his cock twitch. He tore the wrapping with his teeth, but didn’t take the rubber out, just stared down at you. 

“I love you, Caleb.” You finally murmured. “Caleb, I want more. I love you so much and it feels so good.” 

He could have moaned and collapsed if he was a weaker man. He was a weak man, but he always wanted to be strong for you, to take all the beatings from the world so you could curl against his chest and know you would always be safe with him. 

Instead he dove down, gripping your chin with his free hand, to press his lips against yours, your combined tastes invading all senses between you two. Caleb didn’t stop kissing you, proper kisses between two lovers, his tongue dragging against yours, your teeth, tasting you, even as his free hand went to work, rolling the condom down his erection, gripping the base tightly. The tip snagged against your leaking slit, nudging your clit before finding your hole, ready for him. The first press inside had your breath shuddering, your tits shivering against his chest even with his whole body blanketing yours. 

“Ah!” You pulled away from his hungry mouth, his greedy tongue, just to exclaim, gripping his shoulders tightly. “Caleb, it’s… It’s…”

“Say it,” He murmured against your temple, before giving it a kiss. His voice was desperate, even to himself. “Say it, say it.” 

“It’s so big.” You finally whined out, your knees coming up to squeeze his hips. 

That single, short sentence was enough for him. His cock was twitching and he wasn’t going to waste what stamina he had left just letting you hump his cock head gently. 

Caleb pushed all the way in, to the base, as you squealed and arched your back, squirming, against his body. You were trapped, helpless against him, and after a moment of making sure your keening wasn’t in pain, he began his strict, mean thrusts. He wasn’t even pulling all the way out, his movements siding on the side of ruthless grinding and pumping his erection into you. You clung to his arm and shoulder, nails digging in, your legs winding around his waist now. For a brief moment, his brain likened the position to when you demanded for him to let you “koala”, clinging to him as he went about his business, and blood rushed to his cock. 

He was so fucking filthy. You made him this disgusting pervert and he could do nothing but kiss the side of your face and neck, your own mouth whining against the crook of his shoulder. You took him so well, your insides desperately moulding to the shape of his cock, cunt so wet and needy that you began to weakly raise your hips to meet his cruel thrusts. A part of him wanted to pull out and slip the condom free, but there was something so… Disgustingly domestic, so sanitised about the dirty, taboo act taking place, it was making him dizzy just thinking about it. They gave away insane amounts of condoms at university, and given his reputation as a heart throb, he doubted anyone thought he’d hoard his, only to go through them all with his sister. Caleb couldn’t help the bark of a laugh he let out, ignoring the questioning whine you gave in between your hiccups and moans. 

“Caleb, Caleb!” You breathed every time he pressed deeper against a soft, spongy spot deep inside of you. 

He loved the way you chanted his name. The way you squeezed him when his hand slipped between your two bodies, just to play with your swollen clit despite the way you already twitched and wriggled when his pubic bone pressed against the bundle of nerves. Your fingers disappeared into his hair to tug, your thighs tightened around him. It took him a moment to realise those noises you were making had devolved from words and were all the sounds you could make as he ruined you with his cock. 

Then he felt you tighten and cum around him. 

It was too much. He shoved himself as deep as he could within you and gave a broken groan, alien to his own ears, as he finally came deep inside of you, filling the condom up easily. It felt like he released something more than his own semen, his heart unclenching and his spine relaxing. It was like he had a pain in his side for years and only now a splinter was being slipped free from the skin, leaving an open wound, but god, he loved that it now bled freely. 

Despite your weak sighs for him not to move, he was jostling you, Caleb still sat back on his haunches, looking down at the base of his cock, where the condom mouth had rolled up just a bit, but not snapped free. There was a pretty ring of cream around his cock, slick down his thighs, his own cum still trapped in the rubber. Quickly slipping it free and tying it off, he squinted at the shining texture before licking the outside a bit. 

“Gross.” You grumbled, arm over your eyes, chest heaving. 

“Nope. Just tasted like your pussy,” He aimed for the bin and managed a perfect throw. “And you already know I love how that tastes.” 

You weakly kicked him, only to be foiled by him gripping your foot and bringing it up to his shoulder, kissing the ankle. You two stayed like that for a while, you slowly coming down and him enjoying every breath, every gentle shift, every grumble that he ruined your sheets.

“Give me a kiss.” He finally said, sitting back fully and resting against the backboard of the bed. “C’mon.” 

He watched as you sluggishly pulled yourself up and leaned over, hair a mess and lips bitten and sucked. You pouted when he didn’t move at all closer to you, leaving you to flop against his chest and pepper his lips with kisses, grumbling between each one. 

Caleb felt something inside of him purr at the feeling. Not just the warm kisses but also… Just the fact you were doing it. He wasn’t the one kissing you, teasing you with teeth and tongue, but you… You were actively wanting to feel his lips against yours. Perfection.

“You liked that?” He asked, when you settled your cheek against his shoulder, putting your full body weight on him.

“Hmh.” You sighed softly, closing your eyes. 

“Use your big words.” 

“... I liked it, Caleb.” 

“How much?” 

You pulled back, just to scrunch your nose and squint at him. 

“You’re being meaaan.” 

“No, I’m not.” Caleb chided, beginning to curl a strand of your hair around his finger, smirking to himself. “I’m telling you to use your big girl words for me. Or did I fuck all of them loose from your brain?” 

You whined at him before slapping his stomach lightly, breath stuttering a bit as he tensed it. Oh. You liked that. He smiled to himself. 

“Say it.” He repeated, dropping a kiss to your cheek. 

“... I really liked it. It felt good and… And… Dizzying. And… I wouldn’t mind…” You trailed off, dragging your finger tips over his chest, right where his heart thudded rhythmically against his ribs. 

“And?” 

“... And I wouldn’t… Mind doing it again… Sometimes?” 

Caleb couldn’t stop a grin from spreading all over his face. He knew you felt his heart beat faster under your touch, and couldn’t stop himself from pressing a hard, long kiss against your soft mouth. You tried to grumble and pull away, but he just kept peppering them, on your lips, cheeks, forehead, even one for your nose. 

“I just hope Grandma didn’t hear anything.” You eventually mumbled, tucking your face against his collarbone. 

“... Probably not.” 

[peepawispunk]

Study Sessions

Pairing: Reed Richards x You

Summary: Your grades are slipping, but Reed thinks he knows the solution.

Warnings/tags: Coercion, student x teacher relationship, dubcon but you want it, creepy behaviour, power dynamics, Reed is a bit of a dick, manipulation, voyeurism, cock warming, deepthroating, throat bulge, penis size play ie Reed is a stretchy dude, deep fucking, belly bulge, oral sex, squirting, Reed typical superpowers, noncon elements, age gap

Word count: 3.3K

My masterlist

My AO3

This isn't the first time Professor Richards has asked you to stay back after class.

It is the first time he's locked the door though.

He flicked the lock shut after the last student out was halfway down the hall, rolling his sleeves up as he crossed the room to his desk, sitting in his chair and gesturing for you to sit opposite. His hand came up to his chin, rubbing at the stubble there. He looked deep in thought, and your curiosity spiked.

“Professor Richards? Is something wrong?”

“I've noticed your grades have been slipping lately. What's going on? Is there a problem at home?”

He was right; your GPA had slipped this year. It had little to do with the course content and everything to do with the fact that last year, your teacher was an old unattractive man. This year was the first year you'd had Professor Richards as your teacher. He made it difficult to focus on the coursework.

You flushed, embarrassed that your crush on him had gone so out of control that he'd noticed your slipping grades. “No, Professor. Nothing is wrong at home.”

“Is it the course content, then? Is there something I can help you with?” He looked at you with concern, eyes kind and understanding.

You hesitated. Professor Richards stood, rounding the desk to lean against it, next to you.

“I'm here to help, and I want you to succeed. If there's anything I can do to help you, I want you to tell me. You're going into astrophysics, right?”

“You remembered that?” You asked, surprised. On the first day of class, Professor Richards had you all stand up and introduce yourself and talk a bit about your career goals. You hadn’t thought he'd been paying attention.

“Of course. Like I said, I want my students to succeed. I want you to succeed. I see something special in you, and I'd hate to see this opportunity slip through your fingers if I could help you.”

“Wow, I don't know what to say. I feel even worse now for letting my grades slip.” Your gaze settled on the floor, focusing on a knot in the wooden flooring.

“Hey,” he said softly, urging you to look at him. “Tell me what's going on.”

“I've just been a little distracted in class. I swear nothing is going on. I'm just having trouble staying focused during lectures.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, watching you with perceptive eyes as you felt skin heat at the scrutiny. “Perhaps what you need are some one on one intensive lessons.”

“You'd do that for me? I know you're a busy man. I don't want to create more work for you.”

“Hey, it's my job to give my students what they need. I'm sure we could work something out.” Professor Richards said, resting a hand on your knee and squeezing gently. “Would you like that?”

Your cunt clenched involuntarily, the heat of his hand resting on your knee sparking a fire in your belly. Was he insinuating…? Why else would he put his hand on your knee like this?

“Oh.” You were at a loss for words. “Um...”

He tilted his head to the side slowly, sliding his hand up your leg a little, his thumb rubbing circles on your inner thigh. “You're a smart girl, aren't you sweetheart? A good girl, who cares about her grades.”

Oh. Holy shit. You'd fantasised about this man for months on end, to the point your grades were slipping, and he wanted to help you with your grades in return for sex?

A no-brainer if you'd ever seen one.

“Yes, Professor.” You nodded demurely. He obviously got off on the power play of this scenario, so you'd play along. You were a smart girl, after all. You shifted your legs slightly, parting your thighs under your pencil skirt. “I care.”

“Knew you were a clever girl.” He smiled, sliding his hand higher, fingers skirting against the gusset of your panties. “Huh. You want this, don't you?” He pressed down with nimble fingertips, stroking your seam through the damp fabric. “Yeah, you want this.”

You nodded.

“I want you. Been so distracted by you, professor. But what about your wife?”

He chuckled darkly. “Believe me, my wife gets as much out of this as I do.” His gaze flicked across the room for a moment, before returning to your face, watching your reaction as he slipped a finger underneath the fabric of your panties, brushing against the slick wetness of your lips. “Oh she's weeping for it, isn't she?” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “How long since someone's taken care of this pretty little pussy?”

“Uh,” you tried to think, as his fingers gently stroked the shape of your lips, spreading the slick around inside your panties. “A-almost a year.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Well no wonder you're so distracted in class, huh sweetheart? Gotta take care of this pretty pussy. She's meant to be stuffed full. I bet if we take care of her, we can get you paying attention in class again. Think she's gonna need weekly appointments.”

“Weekly?” Your voice betrayed your interest.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Are you ready to commit to your education?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“While we're doing these tutoring sessions, you can call me Reed. Or Sir.” He said with a wink, withdrawing his hand from your panties and bringing it to his mouth. “Mmm, you taste so good, sweet girl. Are you ready for our first lesson?”

“Yes Sir.”

He smiled, loosening his tie. “Good girl. Go ahead and strip off for me. Don't go making a mess, though. I expect your clothes to be folded neatly and placed on your chair when our lessons begin. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.” You said, fingers trembling a little with excitement as arousal flared through you, and you began to undress. His gaze never left your body, heating your skin as he watched you strip, folding your clothes and placing them on your chair. Then, you were standing bare in front of him, waiting for his next instruction.

“Get on your knees.” He said, reaching down to palm himself through his slacks.

Your head was spinning with arousal as you followed his order, kneeling in front of him. You were scant inches away from his crotch, you could practically smell the musky scent of his arousal through the fabric. The bulge was impressive, the bulk of his length sitting to the left side of the zipper, resting against his leg.

“What now?” You asked softly, and he braced his hands against the desk behind him, shifting his hips closer to you.

“You're a smart girl, aren't you? How about you take some initiative.”

Your unsteady hands came up to his waistband, flicking open the button of his slacks and lowering the zipper. To your surprise, he'd foregone underwear, and you could see the leaking tip of his cock drooling a wet spot onto the black fabric. Your hand was immediately drawn to it, swiping a finger through it and bringing it to your mouth. He groaned, and you looked up at him through your lashes, pulling his slacks down til they pooled at his ankles.

“Oh, you're a naughty fucking girl too, huh?” He looked down at you, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Look at you, on your knees for a married man.”

Hot shame and arousal washed over you, and you wanted nothing more than to shut him up; to change his scathing words into moans and whimpers. You looked him in the eye, licked your palm and took him in your hand.

He felt like velvet wrapped steel in your hand, his uncut dick flushed a pretty pink, his foreskin sliding with a slick noise as you jerked him a few times before bringing the tip to your mouth. You wrapped your lips around the head, swirling and slurping, tongueing the slit as you shifted yourself closer, resting your palm on his bare thigh. He was deceptively muscular, you noticed, feeling the bulk of him under your hand.

“Look at you, kissing on him like that.” He breathed, bringing his hand to grip your head, winding through your hair. “He’s feeling real cold. How about you warm him up for me, hmm?”

The thumb of his other hand rested on your lower lip, encouraging you to open your mouth wide as he fed you his cock. It felt like he kept going and going further into your throat, but your mouth hadn’t yet reached the base of him.

He must’ve noticed your confusion, and he hummed sympathetically. “Oh yeah, he’s a grower, baby. Let’s see how much you can handle. You gonna take what I give you?”

You hummed in assent, nodding as best as you could.

“Atta girl.” He grinned, thickening in your throat. “You tap my leg if you need to stop.” He told you, elongating one arm so he could feel you, thumb rolling your nipple as his fingers stretched down to toy with your cunt.

You moaned around him, reedy and desperate as he used his abilities to tease you. You’d seen him use his abilities occasionally, reaching to write on the far end of the blackboard, or stretching to reach something out of reach. You’d imagined how he might use them in the bedroom, and so far, the reality was surpassing your expectations.

“Sit still for me now. There you go.” He said gently, caressing your face. “You’re gonna keep him nice and warm while I read these papers. If you behave, I’ll fuck you after.”

He didn’t even wait for your response, picking up the essay on his desk and reading it, his other hand still teasing you. When he slipped a finger inside you, you moaned, shifting a little.

“Be still.” He reminded you disapprovingly, not even looking up from his reading. “You want this cock inside you, you have to earn it. I don’t go giving just anyone a ride, sweetheart.”

He was deliberately making it hard for you to stay still, and you both knew it. Still, you made an effort to be completely still. Your throat bulged with the size of him; he’d left just enough room for oxygen to pass through, so he could sit heavy inside the wet heat of your throat until he was ready to leave. You thanked the universe for your lack of a gag reflex; you needed that special skill now more than ever.

Time seemed to fade as you knelt in front of him silently, under the onslaught of his wandering fingers. You slipped into a relaxed state as best you could. It would have been almost meditative if you weren’t being teased by nimble fingers massaging your g spot, stretching and pushing in all the right spots to make you see stars.

Reed finally finished his reading, withdrawing his fingers from you. His arm shrunk back to normal, and he brought his fingers to his mouth. “Mmm, so fucking sweet. Looks like even naughty girls can be good with the right incentive.” He set the paper down on the desk, reaching down to give you a hand up as he shrunk himself back to normal, pulling out of your mouth. You noted that even back to normal, he was above average.

He winced sympathetically when he saw your knees, flattened and unhappy from kneeling for so long. “Aww, sweetheart. Hop up on the desk. Let me kiss them better.”

He helped you settle onto his desk, bending to kiss your left knee. His whiskery facial hair tickled you as he pressed a gentle kiss to the tender skin there, then the other, before focusing his eyes on your glistening cunt.

“Look at you. So fucking wet.” He inhaled deeply, trailing his nose up your thigh. “I need to have a proper taste.”

“Fuck, please, I need to come.” You begged, letting your legs fall open further.

“Oh, baby, no. I never said anything about making you come. You gotta earn that, too.”

“How? What do you want me to do?” You asked desperately, watching his slow journey to your pussy.

“You can start by playing with those pretty tits of yours while I have a taste.” He commanded, watching with darkened eyes as you did what he asked, cupping yourself and rolling your nipples, eliciting a gasp from your throat. He nodded once, approvingly, bringing his thumbs to your cunt lips to spread it nice and wide so he could get a proper look at you. His nose led the way, delving into your folds and smearing the slick around, dragging it up to your clit, nuzzling into the swollen peak of flesh there and making you moan.

“Not too loud, sweetheart. Don’t want everyone to know you’re fucking your professor, do we?”

You pant out an apology, but his focus is already elsewhere, his tongue licking a broad, flat stripe up your cunt. You moan again, softer, and he chuckles. “Can’t help it, can you? So responsive, and it’s been so long. You need something in that mouth?”

You nod, and quick as anything, he has two fingers pressing down on your tongue, ordering you to suck.

Satisfied with your noise level now, he starts eating your cunt in earnest, showing you the off-label uses of his abilities. His tongue, now buried in you elongated and focused an attack on your g spot, pressing and twisting and curling against you in a way that had you throwing your head back, arching your back and doing everything in your power not to bite his fingers.

He licked the nectar from your walls, chasing the flavour of you until your cunt was soaked with your slick and his saliva, bringing you to the edge of the desk with one strong hand.

You were impossibly close when he stopped, his tongue returning to normal. He pressed a final kiss to your clit, before leaning over you on the desk, guiding himself to your entrance.

“Ready?” He asked, sliding his tip through your slick, nudging your clit and making you gasp. You nodded, and he pushed inside you, fully seating himself, his balls hitting your ass. “Took me so well, baby. Are you ready for more?” He raised an eyebrow, and you nodded desperately. You weren’t sure how much you could take, but you’d give it your best shot. You wanted him to ruin you; wanted to feel him tomorrow.

“I’m ready.”

“Say when.” He said, smirking at his own joke, and you felt him swell inside you. “Do you prefer it real long, or real thick?”

You were too busy processing the sensations inside of you to respond in a timely manner, and he just nodded, like you’d answered anyway.

“Oh, that’s right. Naughty girl like you likes both, huh?”

He gained a look of focus on his face as you felt him swell inside you, pressing against nerves you didn’t know you had and making you shake and moan.

“Fuck, would you look at that.” His eyes settled on your belly, and you looked down to see a distinct bulge there, long and thick and twitching below your belly button. He pressed his palm down firmly, making you both moan.

“You’ve got to feel this.” He took your hand, pressed it down against your belly, and held it there. Then, he started to move.

You could feel him sliding around in your cunt, pushing your cervix high into your guts as he pounded into you, could feel the length of his dick retreating and returning under your hand. You were still playing with your tits with your free hand, your arousal building dizzyingly. You hoped he’d let you come, because no toy you owned was going to compare to this. Hell, you weren't sure anything could compare to this. He was ruining you for everything and everyone else, and he knew it.

He stilled for a second, changing the rhythm. His movements were slower now, rolling into you. His hands gripped your legs, slinging them over his shoulders as he leaned into you. You could've sworn you felt a brush of a fingertip across your ankle, followed by a warm breath, but when you looked, his hands were nowhere near your ankles. You were so overstimulated you didn’t know what was what anymore.

“Have I been good, Sir? Have I earned it? I want to come, please.” You babbled, walls tightening around his dick. He was gritting his teeth in pleasure now, brows knitting together.

“Fuck, so good. Right there.” He moaned, hand pressing down on your stomach again. “I’m close, baby.” He opened his eyes, gaze meeting yours. “You come on this dick or not at all. You wanna come, you do it now.”

His hands were gripping your hips now, and he levelled a sharp smack against your ass, making you clench around him.

A ghostly sensation trailed across your cunt, soft fingertips pinching at your clit even though his hands were occupied, and you wondered just how many powers he had that you didn’t know about.

Before you could question it any further, you were tumbling over the edge. Something felt different this time, and a feeling of panic spiked in your gut as the feeling spiralled out of control. It almost felt like you had to pee, and you tried to stop it but it was no use. The most intense orgasm of your life crashed over you, turbulent and wet, soaking Reed’s belly and his pubic hair, dripping down to his balls.

His jaw dropped, a moan slipping out unbound. “God, look at you. Did you know you could do that, sweetheart?”

You shook your head no, and he grinned.

“We’re gonna have some fun with that later.”

He thumbed at your clit, fucking into you faster, a focused determination pounding at your g-spot until you were practically howling with pleasure. Your whole body tingled, set alight as you had your second orgasm, cunt clenching and squeezing helplessly around his massive cock as you squirted all over him again.

The combined image and sensation had Reed grunting, turning to bite down on your calf to avoid making too much noise, filling you with hot bursts of cum, his hips stuttering and abdominal muscles clenching against the backs of your thighs as he filled you until it leaked onto the desk.

Before you could even catch your breath, he was tucking himself back into his slacks. He wiped the desk with his handkerchief, then sat back into his chair with a satisfied look on his face.

You got dressed, feeling his cum pooling in your panties as you straightened yourself up.

“Same time next week?” He asked, watching you lecherously as you buttoned your blouse back up.

“Yes, sir.” You answered, legs wobbly as you said goodbye and left the room, closing the door behind you.

The door locked shut behind you almost immediately. You heard the quiet snick and you assumed he’d used his long reach to do it.

What you didn't hear was his wife's voice on the other side of the door as she made herself visible again.

“So, what did you think?” Reed asked, pulling his wife into his arms and settling her on his lap.

“She was a good one.” Sue said, grinding down on her husband’s lap. “Hot little thing. Obedient.”

He was hard again already, rolling his hips up into her. “Mmm, she was.”

“Ready for more already?” She asked, pressing a kiss to his lips. He grinned, popping open his pants again, shoving them down just enough to free himself.

“For you? Always.” He said, guiding her down onto his cock, still covered with your combined spend.

That’s how she liked it.

[wcnderlnds]

fool of tears | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・summary: meeting your childhood best friend again was never in the cards but fortunately for you, he's still there in your time of need. ・❥・word count: 2k ・❥・warnings: mentions of drugs, blood and usual squid game things. swearing. reader has a panic attack. female reader. ・❥・authors note: nabi means butterfly in korean! i thought it'd be cute ok thank you <3

There had been something off about this place from the get go. It was a feeling, something deep inside that didn’t sit right the second you had woken up in a bunk in completely different clothes. That was the first sign that something was wrong. The guards had done nothing to explain. In fact, if anything, they had avoided directly answering the questions asked among the crowd of hundreds of people. There had been so many questions floating through your mind but you’d stayed quiet. Never one to speak in front of so many people, you kept to yourself. The mere thought of voicing your concerns to anyone you didn’t know made the anxiety bubble up inside you. It was better to keep it to yourself. Whatever was happening here, you would get through it on your own. There was no other way. It wasn’t like you knew anyone here anyway. 

As you stepped out through the doors, you felt the wind hit your face causing you to look up. The roof had parted, the blue sky above visible. At least it wasn’t raining. That would be just another damper on an awful day. You tugged down the sleeves of your tracksuit jacket, clutching at the ends to give yourself sweater paws. Being here surrounded by so many people was so far out of your comfort zone. You were an introvert, someone who much preferred to stay at home and be alone. It was your biggest flaw. Social situations made you nervous, you often found yourself unable to speak. It all came down to the fact you were shy and painfully so. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to talk to people, just the mere thought of it made you clam up. What if you embarrassed yourself? What if everyone secretly hates you? That wasn’t something you could handle so keeping to yourself had been your remedy for as long as you could remember.

Feet scuffed the sand under your feet, the stone crunching underneath the sole of your shoes as your eyes landed on a big robotic doll. Huh, that was weird. Hugging your arms around your body, you stood there but suddenly your eyes started ringing when you heard a voice that you hadn’t heard in years.

“No fuckin’ way,” Su-bong explained, coming to a halt at your side. His head was tilted as he examined you, his brows scrunched up to make sure he wasn’t mistaking you for someone else.

It felt like your heart had dropped into the pit of your stomach. Oh, great. Su-bong was the last person you ever wanted to talk to. It took all of your willpower to ignore him, pretend like he wasn’t standing directly next to you, eyeing you up like you were a whole new entity to him when in reality you had been the only true friend he’d ever had.

“Hey,” he waved his hand in front of your face to get a reaction, pouting when you didn’t even blink. Were you really still mad at him? Or maybe you didn’t recognise him. “Senorita, it’s me. Thanos. You know, your best friend from waaaay back when we were kids. I know, I look a little different but…”

Before he could carry on with his rambling, you cut him off, still refusing to look at him. “No, my best friend was called Su-bong and was a really cool guy until he started rapping and got a whole new group of friends and left me for dirt.”

“Ah, so you are still mad!”

“Of course I am, Su-bong!” Finally, you turned to face him. He almost recoiled when he saw the thunderous look in your eyes but the way your fingers were pulling at the sleeves of your jacket he knew you were nervous. It was a habit you always had — a way of protecting yourself. “You’re an asshole and I want… no, I need you to leave me alone, okay? I don’t want anything to do with you, just like you didn’t want anything to do with me back then, got it?”

“Aw come on! If you’d just let me apologise, you wouldn’t be so mad. Pretty fucked up that you’re pissed after all these years. Thought you’d have got over it by now but you’re still as stubborn as ever. Always hated that about you,” he huffed, folding his arms across his chest as another playing began yelling.

“Leave me alone,” you hissed. Before he could open his stupid mouth again, you made a beeline to get closer to the man that was yelling so you could hear him better. Luckily, Thanos didn’t follow you.

As much as you would've liked someone to lean on, Su-bong was unfortunately not that person. Better than anyone you knew not to trust him. That trust had been burned a long time ago. Back when you were kids, the two of you had been as thick as thieves. It was like you were joined at the hip with the way you were always with each other. He had been your first and most important friend. The Su-bong you knew was sweet, he always looked out for you and made sure you knew how important you were. Being as shy and quiet as you were, it was often hard for you to break out and make friends of your own so Su-bong had always tried to include you in everything he did. Things had been so good until they weren’t. 

From the very first day you had met him, he had told you his desire to be a rapper so when he started getting into it and performing small shows at clubs once you got older, you were so happy for him. Each show you attended to cheer him on, he got better and better. The only thing that didn’t was his mental state and the friends he had surrounded himself with. You had first suspected something when he started getting snappy with you – something he never did. Patience had never been his strong suit but he had so much love in his heart for you that he tried his best. It started off small – arguments here and there until he completely started ditching you.

His new friends weren’t the sort of people many associated with so maybe you should’ve seen it coming but finding out he had become dependent on some colourful little pills had broken your heart. Su-bong’s home life had never been the best but he had always tried. His main goal in life was to make his mom proud. You had never expected him to take this route but he had and broke your heart in the process. It was him who cut all contact off slowly but surely. There was no use fighting it – he had a new life, he didn't need you. All you could do was carry on with your own life.

Now, here you were, in the same place as your old best friend who you hadn’t seen in two years. It was hard not to run to him, to tell him you forgave him but you couldn’t. If there was one thing you had, that was self respect and you would never give that up for any man.

—--

The gunshots still echoed through your ears no matter how many times you had covered them. It was like a never-ending record, one that you wished would stop. Your shaky palms sat in front of you, blood splattered across them and your jacket. One of the people in front of you had been shot causing you to get caught in the crossfire, their blood spraying all over you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from your hands. The need to scrub yourself clean for hours upon hours ate at you but you couldn’t move. Tears brimming at the corners of your eyes, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

Oh no.

The tears flowed freely down your face as you tried to remember how to breathe. Your heart was pounding against your ribcage, beating faster than it ever had. The room was spinning, your eyes squeezing shut to try and stop the nauseating feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Hey, Nabi, look at me.” The familiar voice you knew so well came from in front of you. It was too hard to focus on what he was saying until you heard the nickname you hadn’t heard in years. “Going to need you to open your eyes for me.”

It was Su-bong’s gentle hand resting on top of yours, thumb running across your skin that made you finally open your eyes. The second you did you met his concerned brown ones. As your eyes scanned his face, the tears still flowing freely down yours, you noticed the specks of blood on his cheek. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room, like there was no oxygen left in the world as you tried to breathe.

“Nah, right here,” he titled your face so your eyes were focused on his. “Take a breath in and out. Can you do that for me? I’ll do it with you.” 

As he began to take a breath in, you tried to follow. It took a few more tries but finally your breathing started to even out. “That’s my girl.”

The pads of his thumb began to wipe away your tears, letting the silence surround you so you could have a moment to yourself to calm down. When you finally felt you could talk without blubbering, you said the words that had been on the tip of your tongue the second you’d seen Su-bong crouched in front of you. “What…what are you doing?”

“Saw you crashing out and couldn’t let you go down like that on your own. I know you think I don’t or didn’t give a shit about you but that’s never been true. You can hate my fuckin’ guts for all I care, Nabi but I won’t ever let you go through a panic attack by yourself,” he spoke with such sincerity that you almost started crying again. This was the Su-bong that you remembered.

“I don’t hate you,” you confessed, your voice sounding quieter than usual but the emotions behind it more than evident. “I was and still am hurt… and disappointed.”

He frowned, tearing his eyes away from you but you caught the vulnerability in them. The drugs must’ve worn off because when they did he was just as scared and anxious as you were. That had been one of the reasons you’d bonded as children. “Yeah, well…”

“Thanks. For helping.”

“No biggie.”

The silence settled between you once again, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. His hands were back by his sides, picking at a loose thread on the pants he was wearing. If this was back in the day, you would’ve thrown your arms around him in a hug but… no. Instead, you awkwardly wiped at your face with the sleeves of your sweater, uttering your next words almost under your breath. “I’m scared.”

“Me too. I’m fuckin’ scared shitless but I won’t let anything happen to you, you hear me? I don’t give a shit if you don’t believe me or trust me. There’s no way you’re dying in this place,” he looked at you with such fierce determination. His voice steady, a slight quiver when he said he was scared. It was nice to see him being so vulnerable; that had been something that had got lost once he started to change. “Gonna keep my eye on you, okay?”

A firm nod your way and he was back to his feet, heading back to his friend who had been glaring at you the whole time. There was no way you trusted Su-bong but there had been something in the way he spoke that made you realise he meant what he said. He would look out for you whether you liked it or not.

Maybe if you both got out of here, you’d be able to tell him how much you did appreciate it.

taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @justsisse @djarindroid @angelofbooksworld @taivantaylor @sherlocke3d @basquiat-top @urmomsg1rlfreind @belladonna-303 @seunghyunwifey @infinetlyforgotten

[belliexpog]

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I'm Better Than Him- Kang No-eul 0.2

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Pair: No-eul × F!Reader

Context: You had a boyfriend who was a complete jerk, and a best friend who was completely gay for you. When No-eul found out about the breakup, she made sure you completely forgot about the guy, and consoled you in every way.

Warning: none.

Words: 8k

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In the middle of the night, your body woke up. With a jump, you sat up in bed. You heard a noise of something falling, and looked around, your eyes still adjusting to the light in the room, since you had fallen asleep with the light on. When your senses returned, you noticed that something was vibrating, you looked at your bedside table, noticing that what was vibrating so much was not there. It was then that your eyes met the ground, and you saw your cell phone on the ground. The vibration ended, and you bent your body, reaching for your phone. A missed call from No-eul, your best friend, and a message.

No-eul🩷

"Hey pretty, u still up?" 1:30 AM

You sighed, and resumed the call, only having to wait two seconds until you heard your best friend's voice through the cell phone "Hey pretty, how are you? Did I wake you up?" The girl asks, dragging out the "hey." Her voice was cheerful, and on a normal day you would have smiled, laughed, and made a joke about the situation. But not today. You kept your countenance serious and expressionless. "No, I was just in the bathroom. Do you need anything?" The sentence ends up coming out more dryly than intended, and No-eul notices it immediately. She takes a few seconds to respond, thinking about what she would say. "No, just checking you out. Go to sleep, it's late for the kids to be up at this hour." No-eul teased, and she could almost see the exact expression on your face when she heard a short but sincere nasal laugh.

You rolled your eyes and sighed, getting up from the bed. "No-eul, good night." You hung up before you could hear the girl's response. You threw the phone onto the bed and took off your black leather trench coat, throwing it onto the armchair. You stood in front of the mirror, taking off each piece of clothing. One piece, one thought, one new doubt, one new insecurity, one new feeling, one new piece of your heart ripped out. "Was my body not beautiful enough?" You ask yourself, looking at your half-naked body, wearing only your underwear. You looked at your breasts in your bra, your belly, your waist, your hips. Were your legs too thin for him? Or too thick? Was your waist too defined, or nonexistent? Were your breasts too small or too big? The space between your thighs? Was there even a noticeable space between them? Was it your face? Your hair? Your manner?

You touched the soft skin of your belly, feeling a knot in it. A sigh escaped your lips and you felt a shiver, obviously having spent those minutes without clothes, your body felt cold. You quickly went to bed, grabbing your pajamas and quickly putting them on, going back to bed, which you were beginning to consider staying there forever, like a shell of pain. However, No-eul's morning was normal. She woke up at 5, went to the gym, took a shower at 6, and left home for work at 6:50. But obviously, she didn't stop worrying about you. When she saw that you weren't at work, she sent another message to you, asking if you were okay. She sighed, putting her phone down and going back to work. No-eul is a lesbian, and you know it perfectly well, however, you don't know that No-eul has had the biggest crush on you since the day you met.

You noticed that No-eul would sometimes flirt with you, but it was all in fun, right? After all, you were completely straight... Right? Well, it was the only (half) secret that No-eul kept from you. She loved you, and tried to show it, but the more she tried, the more blind you became to these facts, and it irritated her. But what irritated -and hurt- the girl the most was when you showed up with your idiot boyfriend. She hated him. The hungry way he always looked at you, the touches on your waist, cheek, neck, or the disgusting kisses on your jaw and down to your neck. It all made her sick. She knew she was better, much, much better than any man you had ever dated, or kissed. She knew you better than anyone else, she knew how to love you, how to treat you like you truly deserve. She just knows better.

And she knows something is wrong when you miss work. She, however, waited until the end of her shift to grab her things, her car keys and drive to your house. She knocked on your door loudly, waiting for your to answer. A minute later, she knocked again, this time longer and stronger. She only stopped when she saw your pajama-clad figure, disheveled and with puffy and red eyes. She was slightly startled and looked you up and down. "What the fuck happened to you?" She asks, looking at you in shock. It’s not like it’s the first time she’s seen you like this, you’ve seen each other in all sorts of ways. But for No-eul to see you in that state was completely abnormal. You made room for the taller one to enter, not saying anything. "Would you like something to drink?" You asked, hoarse from having just woken up, not answering the girl's question.

No-eul walked around the room already familiar, and sat down on the couch. "Water, please..." She answers, looking at you from behind with a frown and half-closed eyes conveying strangeness and concern. When you return, No-eul notices a glass of wine in your left hand, and a glass of water in your right. You place both glass objects on the low table in front of the sofa, and sit on the sofa sideways, standing in front of No-eul. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" No-eul insists, picking up the glass of water and taking a small sip. "You weren't well yesterday when I called you, you miss work, you don't reply to my messages and you still sleep all day.You're not sick, because yesterday you were perfectly fine. What's wrong, Min-young? Is it with your parents? Your sister? Nam-Chul?"

When No-eul says the boy's name, your gaze drops to your lap, holding back tears. You try to hide it, picking up your glass of wine and sipping. Noticing your watery eyes, No-eul's eyes darkened with anger. "What did he do?" She asks, if you didn't know the girl you'd say all her worry was replaced by anger. The girl took a deep breath and leaned her body slightly, touching just above your knee and lowering her face to meet your eyes."I'm your best friend... You can tell me anything. Whatever it is, I'll help you and support you. You know that. But if you want me to help you, you have to talk to me... If you want a hug, I'm here, okay?" You looked into the girl's dark eyes, and you see sincerity in the girl. You thought for a few seconds. It wasn't about whether you wanted to talk to the girl or not, what you wanted most was to tell her this and cry in her arms, but you couldn't speak, it was stuck in your throat.

No-eul realized yourdifficulty and raised her head, sighing. She approached you, and gently grabbed your chin, making you look at her. You obeyed her touch, looking into her eyes once more. "Let's do this...I brought your favorite ice cream," the girl says slowly and quietly, nodding toward the bag left on the floor in the hallway that you hadn't even noticed. "Let's watch a movie or the series you like, while we eat and then if, and I repeat: if you want, you talk about what happened, hum? How does that sound?" The girl asks with a small smile on the corner of her lips, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I like that idea..." You mumble, looking over your shoulder at the bag you left on the floor. "I'm going to take a shower first. You can start getting things ready." No-eul nodded, with a victorious smile and stood up, first picking up the bag, and heading to the kitchen afterwards.

You also got up and went to your room to take a shower. You closed the bedroom door and entered the bathroom, locking the door. You hurried into the shower, wanting to get back to the couch with No-eul. You dried yourself quickly and put on some comfortable clothes, leaving your hair wet. When you returned to the living room, No-eul was already sitting down, with a large blanket on her lap, with several snacks spread out on the small table in front of the couch. You smiled and ran over to her, sitting down on the couch, next to the girl. No-eul is startled, but lets out a laugh and puts an arm behind her back, snuggling closer. You smiled and sighed as you felt the girl's warm body against yours. You adjusted the blanket over the two of them and picked up the remote, choosing a series for both of them to watch. It certainly wasn't how you thought you were going to spend the rest of your afternoon, but that's one of the things you love most about your best friend: the way she always knew what you needed, even when you don't even know what you needed.

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taglist: @wlvlurvsfimmia

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I liked this one, proud of myself guys🙌🏼

Hope you liked it

Xoxo!

[angelart67]

I lightened the hell way up on my posts on my choice for POTUS about 10 days ago, because, while MOST of the "other side" DEMANDS people respect them, their choices, their options, opinions etc. They also, seem to be, the LAST ONES on Earth to offer the same in return, it's more like ME ME ME, US US US, FUCK YOU, & I got seriously SICK 2 DEATH of being cursed out, called names, & being an "accusation bullseye" by IDIOTS who were evidently not raised with ANY RESPECT for fellow human beings...

I honestly tried, multiple times when verbally attacked, to ask the perpetrator's of these attacks, "Why can't you at least ASK a person completely unknown to you, HOW they formed their opinions, or WHY they decided to share them etc?" BUT nope, I had literally TWO PPL who calmed down on their evilness & vile name calling, long enough to have a conversation, in which (on BOTH occasions) I was a 100% courteous adult in my replies & explanations... on BOTH of those occasions, I was allowed to give my side, my thoughts, etc. the person who originally started out, accusing me, or cursing me, finally (seemed) to understand, I am indeed NOT a Commie, Nazi, or Cult Member, that I was, in fact raised with morals, & Christian values & respect for others, & am able to have a conversation, without it needing to be like a couple of nasty 5th graders going at it, on the playground.

I wish more people out there asked questions prior to jumping to conclusions & just packaging EVERYONE who cast an opposing vote into a neat little box... I guarantee I do NOT think like MOST people, I think like ME, & I'm not just running after the crowd. Hell, I'm a loner, I hate crowds... I just want the right to say, "Look, this happened to me, or, This is why I feel as I do, etc. Plain n simple... All that said, I ultimately decided to limit my TRUMP specific posts, & since then, I have TIGHTENED my Tumblr settings for 2 main reasons, which BOTH are for MY own sanity & peace of mind...

1) I am 100% certain Donald does not NEED me, to be a smashing success, he has proven his abilities to me. I KNOW he's got this...

2) I refuse to engage in battles of wits, with completely unarmed aggressive people, who don't have ANY conversation ability, & come across like gang members, & I don't feel I should have to, they are just extremely ruthless & immature in my eyes...

ALL THAT SAID... I HAVE ALWAYS & DO CONTINUE TO THINK OF ANTHONY FAUCI AS A SELFISH, COLD BLOODED, GREEDY MURDERER & I DO HOLD HIM & HIS LITTLE GROUP OF GOONS (to include Bill Gates & others) RESPONSIBLE FOR MURDERING MY HUSBAND IN 2021, & UNTIL THEY COME OVER & SHUT ME UP, I WILL POST WHATEVER I FEEL I WANT TO ABOUT THEM... IMO, THEY ARE THE BIGGEST OFFENDERS, IN THE HUGE GROUP OTHERWISE KNOWN TO ME, AS THE SWAMP DWELLERS... Soooooo boys, either kick it up a notch & do something to SHUT ME UP, or else SHUT UP & TAKE IT, cause I damned well did not murder your spouse or steal your lhappiness or crush your spirit, & I still pray daily you end up rotting forever in a horrible prison cell, built for the worst possible offenders ever... The death penalty is way too easy for all y'all. You need to suffer daily just like me, & ALL the family members of ALL your other murder victims...

I WOULDN'T EVEN SHOOT YOU ALL UP WITH YOUR OWN LITTLE LAB MADE CRAP VIRUS CONCOCTION...

May God have mercy on you, (because I might have to answer for this) but honestly... I DO NOT & CANNOT FIND FORGIVENESS FOR ANY OF YOU!!! 😡🤬💔😇

Joe Rogan: “Fauci's a freaking demon if you ask me. If you read RFK's book, ‘The Real Anthony Fauci’…he's never been sued. This guy is a Monster. I think a lot of people out there don't realize Fauci funded the Bioweapons Research.” 🤔

[marsdql]

hard feelings, soft reassurance [N.RK]

Dancer!Ni-ki x ballerina/dancer!reader | snyopsis: After struggling with your turns as a ballerina and feeling frustrated, you break down, but your boyfriend Ni-ki steps in to remind you to stop stressing and just enjoy your time. With his help, you finds your rhythm again and realizes it's okay to not be perfect all the time. | genre: PUREEEE FLUFF | wc: 1.4k | cw: self doubt and mild crying? | marea talks: I feel like I keep doing the same thing… so many drabbles where reader is js sobbing .. in my defence it’s because I’m so emo these days I hate my semester so much I will never get over this. I also feel like I didn’t specify enough ABT the fact the reader is a ballerina so if u guys want me to remake it, I will..

You stood in the center of your small home dance studio, eyes fixed on the wall mirror in front of you. Your body was warm from the constant spinning, but it wasn’t the physical exhaustion that was weighing on you. It was your turns.

You had been struggling with them for days now, no matter how many times you tried, your body couldn’t seem to find the right balance. Every pirouette you attempted ended with you wobbling, and your fouetté turns were messy at best. It was as if your muscles had forgotten everything you’d worked so hard to perfect, and the frustration was building with each failed attempt. You didn’t even know why it was bothering you so much—after all, you’d done these movements a thousand times before. So why couldn’t you do them now?

The sound of your ballet slippers tapping on the floor echoed through the room as you spun again, trying to push through the mental block, but it was no use. With a frustrated huff, you stopped and gripped the barre, your breathing heavy as the tears you had been holding back began to spill over.

You hadn’t meant to cry, but the feeling of defeat swelled inside you. You wiped your eyes quickly, trying to stop the tears before they ruined your makeup. But it was no use. The more you tried to push them away, the more they came, until you were sobbing openly, leaning against the barre, unable to stop the wave of frustration and emotion from crashing over you.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

You heard Ni-ki’s voice from the doorway of your studio, and it startled you. You didn’t even realize he had come in, and you quickly wiped your face with the sleeve of your warm-up jacket, hoping he hadn’t seen.

Ni-ki, your boyfriend and a dancer himself, stepped into the room cautiously. He had been watching you practice from the doorway for a while, but when he noticed your struggle, he figured he should step in. He always hated seeing you upset, especially when it came to something as important to you as dance.

“What happened?” he asked gently, his voice soft but concerned as he walked over to you.

You sniffed, trying to compose yourself, but the frustration was overwhelming. “I can’t do it,” you mumbled, your voice cracking. “I’ve been trying to get these turns right for the past hour, and they’re just… not happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Ni-ki.”

He placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and comforting, but you immediately pulled away, unwilling to let him see how vulnerable you were in that moment. You hated crying in front of him—hated showing him that you weren’t perfect.

“Hey,” Ni-ki said softly, stepping in front of you. “You’re not weak for being frustrated. Every dancer goes through this, you know.”

You shook your head and stepped back again. “I’m not like you. You make everything look so effortless, but for me… I can’t even get something as basic as turns right. I’m so stupid.”

Ni-ki blinked, hurt by your words, and he placed his hands gently on your arms, guiding you back toward the center of the room. “Don’t say that,” he said firmly, his voice taking on a softer, but more serious tone. “You’re not stupid. You’re an incredible dancer. Everyone has bad days, even the best. You’re not defined by a few bad turns.”

You bit your lip, trying to fight back more tears, but your emotions were running high, and it was hard to keep it together. “I’m just not good enough,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

Ni-ki’s expression softened. He knew you were having a tough time, and he wasn’t going to let you continue down this spiral of self-doubt. “You are more than good enough. You’re a great dancer. But sometimes… sometimes we need a break. Sometimes the body just needs time to rest and reset.”

You swallowed hard, trying to stop the wave of tears from coming back. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you repeated, your voice shaking. “I used to be able to do this.”

Ni-ki stepped closer to you, gently wiping away a stray tear from your cheek. His expression was gentle, his usual playful demeanor replaced with something far more tender. “You’ve been working so hard. You’re pushing yourself so much, and that’s amazing. But you can’t keep pushing through like this when you’re breaking down. Dance isn’t just about the turns, it’s about how you feel. And right now, you’re not feeling good about yourself, and that’s okay. But let me help.”

You sniffed again, looking up at him with a mixture of vulnerability and frustration. “How? I don’t even know how to make it better.”

Ni-ki smiled softly and stepped behind you, gently guiding you back to the barre. “Let’s take a moment, okay? Just breathe. Don’t think about the turns for a second. Let’s just dance for the love of it, not for the perfect technique or the expectations. You can do this.”

You looked at him skeptically, but there was something comforting in his voice, and despite yourself, you allowed him to guide you through a few basic stretches. As he held your hand and you both moved through the motions, you started to calm down a little. It wasn’t the frantic, perfection-driven practice you had been doing before—it was slow, gentle, and unhurried.

Ni-ki glanced at you, his usual cheeky grin creeping back onto his face. “Now, how about a simple exercise? We’ll focus on something easy, something that’ll make you feel good. No pressure.”

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. It was hard, but you decided to trust him.

Ni-ki stepped to your side, putting a hand on your waist and the other on your back to help guide your posture. “Let’s just do a simple pirouette, but instead of worrying about getting it perfect, I want you to focus on the feeling, on the flow. Don’t think about the turn, just think about the movement and the music. You with me?”

You nodded again, feeling a little more at ease. You took a deep breath, and Ni-ki led you through the first pirouette, his gentle guidance helping you find your balance. And this time, something clicked. The movement was more fluid, less forced. You didn’t perfect it, but it felt right in a way that hadn’t happened all afternoon.

“See?” Ni-ki said, his voice light and encouraging. “You’ve got it. It’s not about forcing the turns. It’s about letting your body move naturally, and finding your rhythm.”

You let out a shaky laugh, a little embarrassed by how emotional you had gotten. “I guess I needed to stop thinking so hard about it.”

Ni-ki gave you a soft, understanding smile. “Exactly. You’re allowed to have moments like this. You’re allowed to feel frustrated, but don’t let that stop you from remembering how talented you are.”

Your heart fluttered slightly as you looked at him, grateful for his patience and kindness. “Thanks, Ni-ki,” you whispered.

“Anytime,” he replied, ruffling your hair playfully. “Now, how about a challenge? Let’s try those fouetté turns again, but this time, we’ll do it together. No pressure, just fun.”

You took a deep breath, feeling your confidence returning, and nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

As you both danced through the routine together, the atmosphere in the studio felt lighter. Ni-ki had a way of making you feel like everything was going to be okay, even when you thought you couldn’t do it anymore. By the time you finally nailed a perfect pirouette, you were smiling through your tears, feeling like yourself again.

“See?” Ni-ki said, his voice teasing but full of warmth. “Told you you’d get it. You’re not just a dancer. You’re a fighter.”

You smiled back at him, finally starting to feel the joy of dance again instead of the pressure. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Ni-ki’s grin widened as he pulled you into a quick hug. “Now, no more tears. You’ve got this.”

[babyangelsky]

Okay. I had lunch, dripped barbecue sauce on my shirt, got the barbecue sauce out of my shirt, watered my plants, watered myself, and now I'm finally ready to put some thoughts down.

The thing most largely on my mind, apart from you know...everything?

The implosion had to happen this way.

And it had to happen this way because Sei and Kazuaki had already resolved not to end their relationships.

Complacency is a trap that's very hard to break out of. It almost tricks you into believing that change isn't worth it even if on some level you're aware that it's needed. Except in this case, the change has already happened. They agree to stay as they are so nothing will change and nothing will be destroyed, but it's been changing and that change has gone willfully unacknowledged.

Or it was going unacknowledged, I should say. But it can't anymore because Sei and Kazuaki both broke pattern.

I thought it was odd that Kaori made no mention of how her boyfriend took off in the middle of the night in the pouring rain and didn't come back. Their relationship is very broken but surely that would be a noteworthy occurrence.

Especially given the timing. He takes off moments after she rejected his attempt at intimacy and then just doesn't say anything? Just says she was bored and that's that?

Nope. That is not in fact, that. Kaori didn't say a word only because she never says a word. She exists in her relationship with blinders on. She likes everything about Kazuaki except that he's a man and won't question what that means or why that might be. She's content with the lack of intimacy, knows that Kazuaki isn't, and chooses to live with him asking her for sex instead of saying anything.

She's just as complacent as he is, albeit for different (possibly comphet) reasons, and since she's chosen not to think about it, it's been pretty chill for her.

Until Kazuaki broke pattern.

He didn't go back to his side of the room after her rejection like he always does. He went off-script. He left and didn't come back until the next day and that is a noteworthy occurrence.

So noteworthy, as a matter of fact, that she checked his phone after saying herself that she isn't the type of person to do that. And she didn't just check his phone, she left the house with it!

But not without first smashing the storm glass that Sei gave her on the floor, because in reading those emails, her blinders were torn off. There is no pretending anymore.

For her, or for Fujisawa.

He won't say anything either, but his face more than speaks for him. He knew Sei was lying him before Sei even made it out the door and he was not happy about it. Sei thinks Fujisawa is hiding something from him and I think he's right. What's more, I think that what Fujisawa is hiding is his displeasure and his jealousy.

Because after having seen this episode and the preview for next week's, there is not a doubt in my mind that Fujisawa is jealous. Not because he has romantic feelings for Sei, which I really don't believe he does, but because Sei is breaking pattern.

Everyone in this show is complacent. Everyone. But for Fujisawa in particular, I believe it's less about accepting the way things are and more about needing things to be a certain way. @respectthepetty went more into detail about that here.

And so far, the way he needs things to be IS the way they have been. Nothing has shaken the boat. The towels have all been white, there's been no TV, no parties, no flashy clothing, no one talking to Sei without going through him. Even Sei's attempts at connection and Fujisawa's repeated rejections are part of it because that's also happening the way it's supposed to.

But now the king of non-disruptive design is being disrupted. Sei is going places. He's talking to more people. He left the house in the middle of the night and lied about where he has going and Fujisawa has put himself in a position where he has to pretend to believe him. He has to pretend that nothing is happening.

Except that he can't, because now Kazuaki's phone call has utterly and completely destroyed any hope Fujisawa might've had to be able to bury his head in the sand and carry on as normal.

And he is not going to react well to having his control shaken.

When complacency is this profoundly seated, dragging everything out into the open and being forced to deal with it is the only way for an actual sustainable change to happen. You almost do have to be removed from choice because breaking pattern isn't enough.

You have to break EVERYTHING apart to such a degree and in such a manner that you cannot put it back together in the exact same way it was before.

[celli-ohs]

Show Must Go On

pairing: secret softie!park jongseong x reader

genre: high school au; crack, comedy, fluff

synopsis: When you told the waitress to give your compliments to the chef, you didn't expect the chef to come out and thank you personally, and you really didn't expect the chef to be your classmate Park Jongseong. Realizing how bad this could be, he has you keep it a secret. That shouldn't be too hard for you to do he thinks, but you're full of surprises- and slip-ups.

before you read: character profiles | sunghoon series

warnings: language, loser enhypen

word count: 3k

taglist (open): @ancnymcnzjy @melancholy-z @lamin143 @soobinbunnie5 @benny1989fredd @bbsantc @jimmiwuwaiting @blindmortal @seongiewon @yuyita-rosier @kkathy101

note: part 2 of my and scene! series, loosely based off en-drama.

Entry 002: 23/05/24

“So your solution to the problem is to stalk and intimidate the poor girl into silence? Who are you, Batman?”

Jungwon looks at Jongseong skeptically, the older boy yawning as they walk.

“I’m not stalking her! I’m just going to make sure she doesn’t tell on me. I can’t afford to lose my job, my parents need me,” He sighs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “And I’m not Batman!”

“Of course, you’re not, Batman saves the innocent, you're torturing her instead.” Jungwon mocks.

Jongseong glares at his best friend, who laughs at him. “You know, you could just explain that to her. You need to have more trust in people.”

With a sigh, Jongseong grimaced. He knew this, yet he still couldn’t. Even his friends had no idea he helped out his family restaurant. They all believed he was in some hardcore baseball league outside of school.

And it’s not because he couldn’t trust them. Well maybe because he couldn’t trust them, outside of Jungwon, they all had big mouths (especially Riki and Jaeyun).

And after last night, he’s worried his reaction might have made his situation worse. Instead of calmly speaking to you, Jongseong practically shoved you out of the restaurant, threatening revenge if you crossed him. Looking back he had over-exaggerated out of fear, and he felt a bit guilty.

But Jongseong had a lot going for himself, he didn’t want it to end just yet.

“Whatever you do, please don’t drag me into it. I don’t want to get in trouble because my best friend is a bully.” Jungwon shakes his head. 

“I’m not a bully! I told you I’m just trying to make sure she keeps her mouth shut!” He argues.

“Uh huh. Yeah, and there’s your victim.” Jungwon nods as he looks forward, causing Jongseong to turn and follow his line of sight. 

You’re walking across the street, looking cheerful as you make your way to the crosswalk. You look like you’re having a grand old day. That is until you finally spin around, making eye contact with Jongseong. 

Your smile immediately falls, color draining from your face as he mugs you. The crosswalk light signals for you to walk, but you don’t budge, too scared to move. 

“Stop that!” Jungwon suddenly shoves him, causing him to trip over his feet. “Y/n! Come on!” Jungwon waves you over and you meekly run across the street to join them. 

“Morning,” Jungwon greets you. “G-Good morning.” You stutter, maneuvering around the younger boy so that he separates you and Jongseong.

The three of you walk in awkward silence. You don’t look at either of the boys, too nervous to even turn your head. 

“I can hear you glaring.” Jungwon finally says something, elbowing Jongseong’s side. 

“Sorry.” He grumbles, facing forward. He quickly glances at you. 

The weather was starting to warm up now that it was the end of May. You still chose to wear your winter uniform, the blazer adorning your shoulders. 

If he were being honest, Jongseong didn’t know much about you, other than the fact that you competed against him in the elections and won. 

You shared homeroom with him, sitting a couple of rows away and closer to the front. In class you were quiet, studious, and polite. You were generally liked by everyone, maybe that was why you’d won and not him. 

Not that Jongseong was hated or anything, he just kept to himself and his friends more. He talked with the other students in his class and grade just fine, but nothing more than surface-level conversations ever occurred.

But social images spun perspective.

You were the prim and proper sweetheart, while Jongseong was the routinely late and unenthusiastic grump.

(He blames his late nights and early mornings at the restaurant.)

“So let’s just cut to the chase,” Jungwon clears his throat. “What did you end up ordering at Jongseong’s family restaurant yesterday Y/n? The curry is my favorite,” 

Jongseong chokes. Of course Jungwon would ask that, yet the idiot was supposed to be the new student body president. 

“W-What?!” You trip over your words, surprised by this blatant question. You probably never expected the outward transparency from someone who was supposed to be your trustworthy president. 

“I also recommend trying the katsudon, with curry it’s really good.” Jungwon is salivating. “His mom is a really good cook too, her kimchi jjigae is refreshing-”

“Okay shut up now.” Jongseong slaps a hand over his mouth. The younger boy tugs him off as they enter the school’s main building. 

“I’m just giving her suggestions!” He argues, before turning back to you. “Try the ghee-grilled steak, it’s pricey but the meat melts in your mouth-” Jongseong shoves Jungwon into the Student Body Office, shutting the door and blocking your entry. 

Finally, he has you alone (if you ignore Jungwon’s abhorrent knocking and yelling from the other side of the door).

You look terrified, stepping backward in fear as Jongseong stares you down. His sharp eyes are burning into your skull.

“Jongseong-”

“You won’t say a word.” He threatens you. You nod meekly, hugging the strap of your bag. “Say it. Promise you won’t tell.”

“I promise I won’t tell!” You squeak, showing him your tiny little pinky. Jongseong observes you. You’re standing pin straight, one hand gripping your bag, the other raised in the air, your pinky standing tall. Your jaw is clenched, and your eyes trained on him.

With a sigh, Jongseong relaxes. “Good.” He mumbles to himself, though he still feels uneasy. 

He steps out of the way and swings the door to the Student Body office open with full force.

“Oof-!” A voice grunts. He’d forgotten that Jungwon was there, consequently squishing him against the wall. “Whoops.” Jongseong deadpans as you scurry inside.

As Jungwon begins to argue with him, Jongseong tunes him out, his focus being on you as you hide behind your desk.

“That’s my seat.” Jongseong looks up from the desk to find his classmate Nicholas eyeing him. 

“Mr. Lee said we could switch. Forgot to wear my contacts and I didn’t bring my glasses.” He answers, pointing to his eyes before gesturing to his old seat a couple of rows away.

Nicholas eyes him, then shrugs. He doesn’t seem that upset when he realizes he’s sitting closer to his friend Eui Joo.

Jongseong bides his time by finishing his homework, quickly scribbling in his notebook. When the warning bell rings, he hears someone let out a gasp of shock.

You stand in terror a few feet away, clutching your books.

“What’re you doing? Sit down before class starts.” Jongseong calls out to you, and you tiptoe to your desk right next to him. 

To make sure you keep your promise, Jongseong had your shared homeroom teacher switch his seat so that he could sit right next to you, much to your disdain.

You sit silently, hands on your knees with a straight back. Jongseong is facing forward, but his eyes are trained on you. 

As your class starts, he finds it difficult to keep his attention on the lesson, always glancing towards your direction with a steely glare. 

You keep your distance, trying your best to focus on the lesson, but it seems you’re not the only one who’s noticed Jongseong’s unwavering stare.

“Jongseong if you’re just going to keep staring at Y/n, I’ll have you stand in the hall.” Mr. Lee announces, and the boy’s head swivels around to his teacher. 

“Sorry.” He mumbles, ears getting red. Mr. Lee sighs, returning to his lecture as the rest of the classroom begins to point and whisper.

Ignoring the unwanted attention, Jongseong has a hard time focusing, how could he if you were right there next to him?

It was like Jungwon knew. The younger boy had walked over to his class the second the bell rang for lunch, he stood outside the door with his arms crossed. 

You quickly duck out of the classroom as Jungwon blocks his path. “What’re you doing here?” Jongseong asked after being ambushed. 

“Making sure you don’t bully my Treasurer. Come on, let’s go eat.” He pushes him towards the cafeteria. 

“I wasn’t bullying her!” Jongseong argues. “Uh huh, Then why did she text me that you were glaring at her all class?” Jungwon cocks a brow.

When did you do that? Jongseong swears he’s had hawk eyes on you since school began. He opens his mouth to defend himself, but Jungwon interrupts him.

“And don’t even think about sitting with her at lunch. Give the girl a break!” Jungwon steers him towards their table, where a few of them already sit.

“I wasn’t going to do that!” He shouts.

He was definitely going to do that.

“Do what?” Heeseung asks as he sits down beside him. 

“Jongseong’s been stalking Y/n,” Jungwon quips and the boy turns to him in shock and embarrassment.

“Y/n? The new Treasurer?” Sunoo looks confused. “Oh my God, are you that jealous she won?”

Jongseong looks at Sunoo with furrowed brows. “I’m not-” He shuts himself up quickly. He couldn’t reveal the real reason why he was so upset.

“Oh totally. Super jealous. I think he’s got a crush on her with how jealous he is.” Jungwon adds fuel to the flame. 

Everyone at the table suddenly gasps, eating this information up like dessert. Riki and Jaeyun are giggling, hiding their snide grins behind their hands as Heeseung and Sunoo are shocked.

“I don’t like her! Shut up Jungwon.” He threatens. Jungwon doesn’t seem to care, eating his food blissfully. 

As the others immediately begin to gossip, Jongseong sighs, massaging his temples. “Where’s Sunghoon?” He needed someone with some common sense right now (Sunghoon wasn’t the ideal candidate, but he was the only one missing).

“He’s eating outside with his girlfriend for lunch.” Heeseung answers, causing Jongseong to groan in response.

“Maybe you should invite Y/n to go eat outside with you too,” Jaeyun giggles, pointing at him like a giddy schoolgirl. He falters from Jongseong’s intense glare.

“I said I don’t like her.” He argues, huffing as he begins to eat his packed lunch. His friends seem to notice his mood drop and change the subject to a movie night at Jaeyun’s place on Friday. 

As the other boys argue over what to watch, Jongseong’s eyes browse the cafeteria, finally landing on you, sitting on the opposite side of the room.

You’re smiling, leaning against your hand as you listen to your friends Jaehyun and Sungho converse in front of you. 

He’s reminded of this morning during your walk to school. You had the most serene look on your face, completely and utterly full of bliss as the sun shined down on you like you had coaxed it to rise. 

Your hair is shiny and healthy, your cheeks have a rosy glow as you laugh, eyes lighting up. 

It was as if you had transformed into an entirely different person.

His view of you is suddenly blocked, and he’s snapped back into reality. 

“Earth to Jongseong! Hello?!” Sunoo playfully waves a hand in front of his face, chuckling as he catches a red-faced Jongseong in the act.

After school he’d run straight home, changing out of his uniform into some more comfortable clothes to work in. 

“How was school son?” His dad asks as he chops some tofu for the soup simmering on the stove. 

“Fine,” Jongseong conveniently hides the fact that you had found out his secret job.

“Just fine? Nothing fun happened today?” His dad seems extra curious today. Jongseong shakes his head. “Nope, just the usual.” He lies. Everything was anything but the usual today.

“Well the office called your mom and me today-” Jongseong practically jumps at the mention, looking at his father incredulously, as he dreads to hear his fate.

“-They were so surprised you showed up early today! They said it gave them a really good laugh! Isn’t that funny? Your mom and I were chuckling all day about it.” His father looks joyful as Jongseong’s fears dissipate.

“Oh, yeah. Haha.” He tries to shake it off, going back to his task of breading the chicken to fry.

“Oh!” His dad suddenly chirps. “Your homeroom teacher, Mr. Lee emailed me earlier today.”

Jongseong freezes, dropping the raw chicken into the bowl of flour. “He did?” He chokes out. 

“Yeah,” His father sighs and Jongseong feels his stomach turn, causing him to lean against the counter. 

“You forgot to turn in an assignment for your English class, he said he’ll let you turn it in late if you finish it on Thursday.”

Jongseong feels oxygen enter his lungs as he takes a deep breath, relaxing once again. “Yeah, I can finish it.” He nods. 

“Now listen to this! Jungwon texted me today. Oh that boy, he surprised me.” His dad rambles on. 

Jungwon?! What did his best friend have to say? Surely he didn’t out him, right? He may be more reliable of the bunch, but Jungwon was just as prone to blabbing as any of his other friends if he wasn’t careful.

“He asked if we could make him some curry for lunch tomorrow! Haha! He wants you to bring it to school so he can eat it.” His dad lets out a hearty laugh, tossing his head back.

Jongseong is barely able to laugh along with him, his head spinning from all the stress his dad had caused him just now. He quickly finishes the chicken, dusting his hands on his apron. 

“I’m gonna take my break,” He announces, his dad waves him off with a grin. On his way out of the kitchen, Jongseong grabs a can of soda to drink. 

He takes about three steps out of the kitchen only for him to drop his can when someone yanks him by the arm, stowing him away into the bathroom down the hall. 

“What the-”

“Shh!” A hand is slapped across his mouth, shutting him up as he’s pushed up against the wall. 

Jongseong looks at you ludicrously, eyes wide. Not only was he shocked and confused about why you were here, but he was also caught off guard by your expression. 

You stare up at him with fierce eyes, a steely glare that could rival his own. Your usually perfect hair is messy, and you’re gasping for air as if you’d just run here.

While one of your hands covers his mouth, the other still has a firm grip on his wrist, pinning him down. For some reason, his heart begins to race, ears heating up.

With his free hand, Jongseong removes your hand from his face, gently pushing you off him. 

“What are you doing here? I thought I made it very clear for you to never return,” He tries to ignore his beating heart as he scowls. 

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I know- but I had to! I came to warn you.” You say, your soft and quiet tone long gone, replacing it was something loud and harsh. 

“My friends are here, they insisted on coming. I guess Donghyun’s classmate recommended your restaurant. I couldn’t get them to change their minds- well honestly I wasn’t much help, I really liked the soon dubu jjigae and I kinda told them that- but anyway! I ran here as fast as I could to let you know. I’m too late though, they’re all here. You need to hide!” You rush, opening the door to peek your head through, scouting the area.

You… You’re helping him? But why? There was no reason for you to help him. You’d only benefit from exposing him. Hell- he’s been tormenting you for the past 24 hours, you probably wanted to tattle on him more than save him.

Questions kept piling up one by one, but right now they would have to wait. There was a more important matter at hand, like:

“But why are we in the women's bathroom?! I could get in trouble if someone found out I was in here!” He tries to subtly duck down to check if anyone is in the stalls. 

“Don’t worry, I checked already! We’re alone.” You assure, turning back to him. “Come on!” You grab his hand once more, running you two out back into the hall. 

You push him back towards the kitchen, swiping the checkpad and pen from his apron pocket to scribble something down. 

“Here, this is my number, text me so I have your number. I’ll let you know when we leave. For now, don’t come out until I say so.” You instruct, passing him the pad back.

Jongseong looks surprised as he reads your number. Even when in a rush your handwriting is impeccable, no wonder you’re a part of the student body council. 

You’re about to dash back out to the restaurant when Jongseong stops you, now it’s his turn to hold your hand. 

You look up at him speechless, looking at your two hands (as if you hadn’t grabbed his first?!). 

Looking into your eyes, Jongseong finds it hard to speak, the words crowding his throat and never forming. Your shock quickly turns to concern as you step closer to him.

“Jongseong? Are you okay?” Your hand doesn’t fall from his grip.

Suddenly self-conscious, Jongseong clears his throat, dropping your hand as he wipes his sweaty palm against his apron. 

“Thanks.” He coughs out, giving you a half-assed smile as compensation. You stare at him with an unreadable expression for a moment, before bursting out into a smile that practically makes his heart leap out of his chest. 

“I said I’d keep my promise didn’t I?” You tease, before leaving to return to your friends. He stands there, stunned. He can still feel the heat of your hand on his fingertips.

Jongseong thought his biggest worry would be making sure you keep your mouth shut, but now he realizes he should’ve been worrying about how to keep his heart under control.

Entry 001: 22/05/24 | Entry 003: 03/06/24

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[rejectedbytheempty]

from the dirt we rise, ch. 5

pairing: farmer!john price x reader, no use of y/n

word count: 2k

cw: none

synopsis: when your car breaks down in the middle of the english countryside, a tall, dark stranger comes to your rescue

masterlist

the sound of the stairs creaking startles you from your sleep, and for a moment you forget where you were. it all comes rushing back to you when you open your eyes and realize that you’re in john’s guest room.

you groan softly and roll over, checking your phone to see what time it was. the clock read 6:08, and you were careful to not let your eyes drift downwards to your notifications. you weren’t sure if nathan would have even reached out, but you didn’t want to ruin yet another day with his antics and were loath to look at your texts to check.

in fact, you were fine with never speaking to him again, happy to let it all fade to an unpleasant distant memory. you were sure, however, that nathan would find some other way to fuck up your life, but for now you needed to get out of bed and find some coffee. you rolled out of bed, already missing the warmth of the blankets as you headed to the bathroom to freshen up.

after you had managed to make yourself look somewhat acceptable, you headed down the stairs. the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit you as you stepped into the kitchen, and you spotted the coffee machine with a full pot sitting on the counter, along with a bowl of sugar and a container of milk.

john was already sat at the table, coffee cup in front of him as he read the paper. his hair was still ruffled from sleep, some ends sticking out in small tufts. he was in a worn t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants, eyeglasses once again perched on his nose.

the scene felt all too homey, like you were interrupting his morning routine somehow. shame crept over you, unwarranted as it was, and you turned to head back upstairs when john called out your name.

“you headin’ back upstairs already?”

you turned back around sheepishly, “i didn’t want to bother you.”

he gave you a look over his glasses like a stern professor admonishing you, “nonsense, you could never bother me. ‘sides, already heard you come down the stairs, no sense in sneaking off now.”

you smiled appreciatively at him, nodding at his words, “you’re right, i’m-“ you stopped yourself before apologizing, something you found you did all too much, “do you mind if i have some coffee, too?”

he gestured to the cabinet above the sink, “there’s some coffee cups up there, take what you like, sweetheart.”

you hated how quickly he could make your face flush with just a simple nickname, and you turned away from him as you grabbed a random cup from the cupboard, trying to hide the evidence of your flustering.

as you poured out your coffee, you noticed that the mug you had chosen was one of those “#1 dad” types but the dad part had been crossed out in sharpie with the word captain written in messy handwriting beside it.

once you put your preferred sugar and milk in your coffee, you turned around to sit at the table with john, who was now nose deep in the crossword puzzle.

he glanced up when you sat down, taking a note of the mug you chose he said, “good choice. the boys made me that one when i announced my retirement.”

you smiled softly as you took a sip of the coffee, but you did notice the faraway look in his eyes after he spoke, like he was remembering something. “you miss it, then?” you asked, and he blinked back to the present, looking over at you again.

“every day. it’s strange, practically my whole life was dedicated to it, and one day it just.. all went away. reckon that’s why i like to keep busy on the farm,” he admitted.

you nodded, “i understand, well.. i don’t exactly, but i do know what it’s like to dedicate yourself to something and even though you know it’s bad for you, you don’t remember life without it, so you stay..”

the room went silent, and you looked abashedly at your coffee, afraid you said too much.

“i promised you yesterday i’d take you to see the animals, right?”

you looked up at him with a puzzled expression, “yes, you did.”

he smiled, “well, i don’t intend on going back on my word, and if you’re up for it, maybe you could help around the farm today?” you gave him an appreciative expression, “that would be lovely.”

after you had finished your coffee and john had done around half of his crossword, you both headed upstairs to get ready. by then, the sun had settled on top of the horizon, lighting the sky with hues of pink, orange, and yellow.

you were able to find some clothes that you packed that might be suitable for farm work, or rather, clothes you were willing to get dirty. john thankfully had some boots from when one of his work friends, kate, came to visit, as she accidentally left them behind but couldn’t be bothered to go all the way to england from the states just for a pair of wellies.

john was definitely dressed more appropriately than you, wearing a flannel and a pair of overalls along with his own pair of boots.

“ready?” he asked and you shrugged, “as i’ll ever be.”

he chuckled, “i’m sure you’ll be a natural at it.”

then the two of you set off along a dirt path toward the animal pens. although you had seen cows from the roadside, you had never been close enough to one before to realize the sheer size of them.

while you were helping john refill their water, one ambled up to you, staring at you with its big brown eyes, tail swishing slightly behind them. you looked to john, to ask for help? you weren’t sure, to be honest but he was just smiling.

“she wants you to pet her,” he said, and you turned back to the cow who was patiently waiting. you slowly reached towards her and began scratching under her neck, she let out an appreciative grunt and moved her head back to expose more of her neck for you to pet.

“like this?” you asked back to john, eyes still trained on the cow.

“yep, just like that” he answered, and even though you were facing the other way, you could hear the smile in his voice as he talked.

he tried to teach you how to milk them but you could only coax a few drops out, much to your chagrin. he shrugged, “takes lots of practice, ‘sides, you didn’t get kicked, so there’s clearly some talent in there.”

your eyes widened, “they’d kick me?”

he laughed, “just messin’, i’d stop you well before they got around to kickin’.”

safe to say, that didn’t reassure you very much and you let him milk the rest by himself.

next were the chickens, he had you spread out the meal on the ground and they all came running from their roosts to peck the pieces from the dirt.

he gestured to the empty nests, “see? now it’s easier to get their eggs without them fighting back. protective things til it’s breakfast, then they’d abandon their eggs for a kernel of corn.”

you frowned, “that’s kind of sad.”

he waved you off, “you’ll feel bad til one of them comes flying at you to peck your eyeballs out, then you understand why humans started eatin’ eggs.”

you smelled the pigs before you saw them, your wrinkled nose making john have a good chuckle, “not the smell you expected?”

“i mean, i knew they smelled bad but, not that bad,” you said as you plugged your nose.

he shrugged, “after the first few years of living in the barracks, i think i went nose blind, or at least my smell tolerance was greatly improved.”

you shook your head, “don’t think i could ever get used to this.”

“fair enough,” he admitted, “why don’t you head on back to the house and get cleaned up, i can finish up here.”

you looked at him, “are you sure?”

he shook his head with a grin, “honey, i’ve done this everyday by myself, don’t think i’d be dead in the water if you left.”

you laughed, “you’re right, didn’t really think that one through, did i?”

“at least you’re pretty” he joked, heading down the path towards the pig pen, leaving you to bask in his words.

you thought about what he said all the way up to the house, in your head, you knew it was just a saying and he was just joking around. in your heart, well, your heart was still pounding something fierce as you walked in the house and took off your muddied boots.

your movements were so robotic that it wasn’t until he spoke that you noticed a man sitting in the living room.

“you’re not john” he said, which was rather obvious, you hoped.

you stopped in your tracks, looking him up and down. he was.. well to put it rather blunt, a beautiful man. he had a cap on with a worn insignia of the british flag on it that just shadowed the area above his dark, brown eyes. he was wearing a blue windbreaker, a pair of jeans, and a confused expression.

“i.. am not. who are you?” you asked, although you know you should be scared of a random man being in john’s house, you figured he had to know the captain. because why in the hell would he be waiting around in his house if he wasn’t supposed to be there, or at least, you hoped that was true.

“i’m gaz, who are you?” in that moment you remembered the conversation you had yesterday with soap and john where they had mentioned a fourth person in their task force, one that was still in the military and was now a lieutenant.

you sighed out a breath of relief, “oh, you’re gaz, the lieutenant, right?”

he nodded but was still cautious of you, “yes, uh, how do you know that?”

as you were about to explain what was probably a long winded and over-described story, you heard the door behind you open behind you as john walked in, one boot pulled off and the other in the process of being taken off.

once he freed his other foot and looked up his face split into a grin, “gaz! i didn’t know you were comin’!”

you looked back to where gaz was standing, his face now in a similar expression to john’s, “yeah, that’s the point of a surprise, cap’n.”

they both walked forward and settled into a heavy embrace, john clapping gaz on the back, “good to see you in one piece, kyle.”

then, his attention shifted back to you and he motioned you over to the two of them. he introduced you to kyle, the latter taking your hand in a firm grip, “sorry i was so rude earlier, didn’t know price got himself a bird. been too busy to tell me, i guess, or maybe he’s forgotten about me since starting this farm.”

you felt your face heat up, “oh, i’m not-“

“she’s not-“

you and john launched into similar protests, both stopping to allow the other to explain.

gaz broke the silence, “right, well, sorry for assuming then. christ, we got off to a good start didn’t we?”

gaz looked at you sheepishly but you waved him off, “i-it’s okay, i mean, it’s not like you knew.”

john nodded his head, “honest mistake, really. she’s just been staying here while her car gets fixed, and she just got out of a relationship, so nothing happened,” john rambled. you had never seen him so flustered, always seeming like he has a handle on the situation.

and you weren’t really sure why he was in such a hurry to dismiss the thought of being with you, were you that repulsive to him? maybe all those flirty remarks were just jokes, maybe he couldn’t stand you.

gaz broke the silence in the room, looking between the two of you stuck in your thoughts before clearing his throat, “so, you had breakfast yet?”

a/n: just wanna get it out there first and foremost, i am not a farmer, i have never done farm work a day in my life and so i just wanna say that this is all based on google searches and like.. little house on the prairie, so i apologize if its wholly inaccurate.. next, i am so sorry this took so long to get out, but with me accidentally deleting my og blog and school, i literally could not find any energy to do this lmao. but it’s here, yaaay!! also, i did take some liberties on reader, kind of projecting my lack of farming experience on her so i do apologize for her being kind of oc-y..

taglist:

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@liidiaag

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[muxshwriting]

a movie i’ve seen before

Jake Seresin x reader

summary: the impending doom of the end that you can’t avoid and can’t ignore, it’ll always be looming over you || warnings: angst, happy ending, break up, sadness, hints of depression (but not really) || word count: 1689 || masterlist

There was always going to be a time limit on love, you knew that. A small part of you dreamed you’d be able to avoid it. When you met Jake Seresin, everything seemed to slot into place for you. The constant ache in your bones, the tiredness of your mind. All of it was lifted when he would take you in his arms and kiss you sweetly. You were his, wholly and completely.

But he could not be entirely yours.

Jake’s soul was tied to the sky, to the planes he flew. There was no replacing that for him, nothing that could fill the hole that would leave.

You’d graduated from college, set to start your new job that September, leaving you with the summer to enjoy your last months of freedom. You’d travelled up and down the coast, spending your days on secluded beaches and simply enjoying glorious weather.

Jake, newly stationed at Miramar, caught your eye from across the bar one evening and simply couldn’t stay away.

“I’m Jake Seresin. You must be Belle, right?”

“Belle? You must be mistaken, I’m Y/N.” You laughed him off, assuming he had you confused with a friend of his.

“Y/N? It’s only that you’re so beautiful, I assumed you had a name to match. But I must say, yours suits you much better.”

A light blush covers your face as you duck your head to hide it. A few stray hairs slip from behind your ears and Jake gently reaches forward to tuck them back.

“Jake Seresin…” You say his name, mulling it over and meeting his piercing gaze.

He smiles, an honest one, not cocky or flirtatious. “You can wear it out however you like.” He whispers, his voice low as you lean into him.

“You better buy me a drink before any of that, like a gentleman would.”

You had plans to keep travelling but something in Miramar compelled you to stay, or rather someone.

Jake was the very picture of a gentleman, picking you up for dates and driving you home every time. He would cradle your hand with his, unable to hide his grin as he did. The next five weeks flew like the jets Jake loved. You spent every moment you could by his side, entwined with him.

Your souls would dance in the pale moonlight of the nights you lay twisted in sheets and tangled with limbs. But you could sense the impending wrenching of your hearts apart when you had to leave. And as the deadline approached, that feeling only grew.

“Jake…” You had whispered it into the morning air, almost afraid to speak and break the silence.

“Yeah?” He hadn’t even opened his eyes.

A pang of guilt hit your chest as you spoke the words, “I leave in two days.”

Still sleepy, Jake didn’t even comprehend what you were saying. “What?”

“In two days, I’m leaving. There’s a job, in New York, that’s been lined up for me since May. I’m leaving in two days.”

“…What?” He’s blinking away sleep as he sits up in bed and turns to face you. “You’re… leaving?” The pain seeps into his voice before he can stop it.

“Jake-“

Almost as quickly as it had appeared, the pain vanished. “That’s fine.” The coldness had never been directed at you before and it hurt. It hurt like a stab to the heart. He simply turned over in bed, facing away. “Do you need help packing?”

You blinked back tears at his care despite his hurt. “No.” You whisper. “Everything’s set up for me.” You confess. “Jake-“

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

You’d essentially betrayed him, too afraid to tell him the truth in the beginning at risk of losing him despite the fact that you would lose him either way. If you had just been transparent, perhaps there would be a hope for you in the future, but your actions has made that impossible now.

The next two days passed in awkward encounters as the distance between you only grew. Jake could barely even look at you and you couldn’t keep his gaze when he did. Jake could barely even look at you and you couldn’t keep his gaze when he did. You barely spoke. It was as if everything you’d shared disappeared overnight.

The pain in your chest returned with every moment you shared with him but were distant. Perhaps you should have just lied and stayed here, where you were actually happy instead of carting yourself off to New York for a cushy corporate job.

You cornered him the morning you had to leave, a suitcase packed with all your things waiting at the door.

“Jake!” You were practically begging him. “Please just listen to me for two minutes.”

Jake bit back something, his jaw tightening. “Two minutes.”

“I’m sorry. I should have told you before but I was afraid of ruining what we had. And then I ended up ruining it all anyone. I won’t ask for your forgiveness because I don’t deserve it. I just don’t want you to completely hate me?”

Jake takes a sharp breath in. “I could never hate you. I actually loved you, maybe I still do. But it’s too late for us now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Goodbye Jake Seresin.”

“Bye.”

New York held no happiness for you. The days blurred together and you were begging for something to break the monotony. There was no purpose her, no motivation to do anything beyond the minimum. Months rolled past without so much as a highlight and it was only when snow fell halfway through December did you shake yourself out of your misery.

In your silent evenings, alone in your apartment, you’d cast your mind back to him unconsciously. He was the blinding light in a world of darkness and you had purposely snuffed him out.

Part of you was begging for a call or text from him. Part of you knew that would be the push you needed to abandon everything you’d been working towards for years. This life should be your dream; a job you can enjoy, a community you could grow with, a place where you could find someone to love. You didn’t have the courage to text him first, knowing if he even read your message you would take it as a sign and travel across the country back to him.

Wherever he is is where you want to be. But you can’t. Because you tossed it all away.

Christmas approaches and your work party is uneventful beyond some part games and a few questions tossed around the group.

“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? No money constraints, no time to waste.”

Your colleagues all gave their answers and you answered something about Europe half-heartedly, knowing you would want to be next to him. You supposed Jake was in Texas at this time of year, with his family. But you couldn’t even send him a Merry Christmas text because you were too afraid.

Christmas Day was a bustling day in the Seresin household. Jake was banned from the kitchen, his mother almost throwing veg at him just to get him to leave. He’s been put on babysitting his nephews and nieces while his sisters finished decorating and helping their mother.

Everyone was happy. Jake could distract himself all he wanted, tell himself he didn’t care. But his mind would always wander back to the summer, the perfect summer that would never extend past that. Part of him still blamed you and part of him understood your actions to an extent.

He wished you had told him sooner, just so he could prepare himself for the heartbreak you had brought him. But then he wouldn’t have the precious memories that inhabit his free time. He wouldn’t still hear the echoes of your laughter in his small house in Miramar.

The doorbell rang, not unexpected as a few extended family members were due to drop in at some point and Jake let his legs carry him to the door. He pulled it open, a smile plastered on his face.

But it wasn’t family standing there, it was you. With a small wrapped present in your hands, you stood with your eyes brows knitted together with worry and garaging his reaction.

“Merry Christmas.”

Jake stuttered as he spoke, “What- What are you doing here? You? You’re in Texas? Why are you in Texas?” He stepped out into the chilled air and closed the door behind him.

“I was a fool.” You tell him, “I loved you- I love you. And I threw it all away for a stupid reason and I regret everything.”

Jake didn’t let you mumble and trip over a response any more. You loved him, still. You were here. You took the time to travel from New York to Texas to see him on Christmas and tell him that you loved him even though he might not say it back. You had done what Jake was too angry to do for the last four months.

He surged forward, kissing you with a ferocity that made the world stop spinning. His hands called you with the care you had been absent of for so long and you never wanted to let go.

”I never stopped loving you.“ He said once he pulled back, breathless. “What happened to New York?”

”It doesn’t feel like home and I’m not sure it ever will. I’m applying for a virtual position so I can work and travel or something. From anywhere.” You don’t know if he’ll take you back but you need him to know that you can he his again, who only and completely. You want to be his again.

“You could visit Miramar.”

”I could.”

”Will you?”

Slowly, you nod. “As long as you’re there. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

”Would you travel to Texas when my deployment’s done?”

You reach for his hand, the present for him lying on the ground, long forgotten. “I’d travel anywhere if it meant I could spend time with you.“

[sheepispink]

Hesitancy ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི COD MASTERLIST

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Lt ghost x baker, civilian!reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི fluff, hurt/comfort, slight angst, reassurance

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Chapter 7 of Sweet as Sugar series

a/n: currently posting this half delirious at like 3 in the morning. #very confused and want to sleep but i cant. Its ok, enjoy chapter guys thanks u

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——————

A few slight problems had occurred whilst Simon was on deployment, the biggest one being that you had completely forgotten he even went.

For two days you waited patiently for him to arrive, starting to grow more and more upset until your father reminded you, saying he saw him off. You couldn't exactly be mad—he did warn you he’d be going—but it was just so incredibly boring when he couldn't even text you. So you waited; for the first week you managed to fend it off, the second was a little harder and by the third you were debating whether you should join the army. Cleaning up your shop just didn't feel right without him there with you; it was like missing a piece of your heart. You thought you were going crazy, you’ve never missed someone like this before—not that there was anyone to miss usually. But this, it was an unbearable ache in your chest, and you were starting to worry this was some kind of dangerous attachment.

He has returned now, and has kindly texted you to confirm that thus unintentionally quelling the turmoil in your chest. What were you supposed to say though? That your thoughts have been filled with him since he left? You weren't exactly sure if he was even interested in you too— what if he only saw you as a friend? Men of his job were not exactly known for their affectionate sides, and you couldn't help but believe you’d be asking too much of him to be a person like that for you. Especially with the way your heart thumps, he probably thinks you're insane with your attachment— you’ll only drive him away at this rate.

On the other hand, Simon still hasn’t sent the message.

In fact, he’s staring at your texts right now as he lays back in his bed. It’s almost two am, another barrage of memories had shaken him from any traces of sleep he had attempted to get today, and almost as if instinct, he reached for his closest connection to you. This message seemed impossible to send though. Not because he didn’t want to, but for some reason he was slightly scared. He wanted to do this the right way, make sure this all went smoothly, and you didn't feel pressured in the slightest— hell he’d be caught off guard if he received that text. Though, now something else concerned him even more than that; it could end up ruining everything if he didn’t try to understand and fix the issue straight away.

You were acting weird, in a way that was really different. He didn't feel like he was allowed to interfere, to demand an answer for your shift in behaviour but in a way he owed it to you. If you weren't doing okay, he wanted to know; especially after your fathers words, he had to try to help. For the past two days you were far less chatty than usual, only giving him a few stray answers that don't really represent yourself like your responses usually do. In a way, you reflected the subject back onto him, like you’re afraid of talking about yourself even a smidgen. From excitable first texts, you now only responded to his, rather than bringing up your usual random thoughts. It reminds him of someone being restricted to speak, like they shouldn't speak. He’s all too familiar with that notion: keeping quiet since you know too much, afraid of an interrogation and the enemy destroying everything you didn't know you loved until you’re hanging by nothing but your efforts, watching your vision fade.

He blinks the gruesome image away, pushing himself up to a sitting position as he rubs the deadweight beneath his eyes with the roughness of his palm, groaning. Not everything was as serious as an interrogation and torture; he knew there was no way you could possibly be anxious like that, but still, the thought of you feeling uneasy around him was the worst thing to imagine. It was different, really different, to know someone outside the cruel reality he lived with. You had no idea the extent his enemies would go to, the people they’d exploit just for an ounce of power—how unforgiving the people in this world would be. And so, you were free. There you went, not bothering to think twice when someone had a photo of your face and unbothered when a customer whispers into their phone. Most importantly, you were so incredibly kind to anyone who came in, allowing them a little piece of your heart.

He wasn't jealous, no, Simon knew well the man he’d become when he put on the mask. In a way, he felt like he could talk to you more—you always had so many things to speak about. With the other soldiers here it was the typical topics; missions, intel, nightmares all the time, and whilst he wasn't bored by his comrades, he sure was far more interested in what you had to say. In a way, you were his little slice of life, telling him about the latest movies that came out, some crazy scandal or something as simple as a new crisp flavour you were fond of. When was the last time he cared about a band going on tour? Probably never, but he sure did now, searching for any tickets available for all your favourites. This was more than a breath of fresh air, nor a turn of a leaf—no you had peeked into his dreary life, with your wide grin and excitement, brightening his life enough for his heart to feel aches for different reasons.

His team’s lucky it’s Saturday, else he would’ve cancelled his last evening training to take the drive down to the little Welsh town he now only associated with you. It doesn't take him long to drag himself through his tasks for the day before eventually taking that drive down the winding road to where your bakery is. It’s right on the corner of the little plaza that’s been growing livelier as the cold starts to fade out again.

You’re wiping down the tables, almost closing time since you close early to pack up for Sunday. The bakery isn't open then, used for preparation for the week ahead even though your parents usually handle that. He pushes the door open, the bell jingling above the door as your sweet voice calls out to him as per usual. “Sorry, we’re closed right now—” You begin, before promptly lifting your head, eyes widened in surprise when you realise it’s him standing there and not a customer trying to get a last minute coffee.

”Oh—Simon..?”

Lord, he can't stand the way you visibly stiffen when you see him, trying to push out the thoughts running in his head to interrogate you, unable to grapple with the idea of having information not in his grasp. No, this needs to be taken carefully, but still— are those dark circles beneath your eyes?. So he was right,something is on your mind that needs to be let out.

“You need a break, don’t you?” He walks over to you, gently reaching for your sleeve and giving you plenty of time to back away if you so wish. “C’mon, we haven't talked in a while.” His voice is gruffer than it should be, and he can tell it catches you off guard as well, since you’re more accustomed to his calmer demeanour. It’s not Simon’s fault; he can’t help it when you’re clearly running your mind into the ground thinking too hard. “It’s not.. I—”

You try to argue but follow along without much reluctance, watching as he walks behind the counter to grab your coat, slipping it firmly over your shoulders before buttoning it up. Once he’s sure you’re warm, he leads you out, locks the bakery door with the keys he knows you keep in your left pocket, and continues to squeeze your wrist as he leads you towards a nearby restaurant. Wordlessly he seats you at a secluded table, before moving towards the counter. Your favourite soup is placed before you whilst he holds his usual black coffee, angling his chair towards you as he leans his elbows on the table. Every move of his is calculated, unintentionally too, attempting to make himself look all the more intimidating, so the victim gives in easily. “You’ve been acting strange recently, what’s wrong?” Just from his tone you can clearly tell he’s raising an eyebrow at you and you cannot help but crumble beneath his gaze, hands fidgeting awkwardly on the table as your eyes flicker between the soup and him.

“It’s really stupid… but i.. I had a bad dream.” That makes his curiosity peak, his chair scraping the tiles as he shifts a little bit more.

“A nightmare?” He probes, confused by your words and how it could affect your actions.

“Of a sort..” your fingers continue to intertwine together absentmindedly, nervous and slightly intimidated.

“I dreamt that you.. You got angry and shouted at me—” You begin, and he cuts you off, a pit of guilt sinking deeper into his gut as the words ring through his head.

He was stupid to think for a second that someone as messed up as he was could be anything of use to a sweet girl like you. He’d only ruin your life, make you hurt in ways you shouldn’t because if he was just normal, like everyone else, you wouldn't be terrified of that. “Hey, listen..”

You quickly cut him off, hands frantically waving in the air as you shake your head quickly. “Wait!” He hadn't let you finish your sentence and your squeak made him stop, letting you finish. “I was rude to you, in the dream. I snapped at you, and even when you tried to help I just grew worse.” You let out a long groan, hiding your face in your hands as you sit there and sniffle pitifully.

“You snapped at me? You could scream at me, I wouldn't care.” He says, confused and still convinced you’re afraid of him shouting and even potentially getting physical with you. He knows he doesn't look like a saint, especially since he allowed you small glimpses of his scarred face. Likewise, he just hopes it’d never come to this, for him to continue the cycle the men in his ancestry began.

“That's the problem.. I feel like I’m deceiving you— like I'm being so nice, and you think I'm that perfect person all the time. I can just get so irritable sometimes, and I won't explain why to you, and then I'll hurt you.”

His throat bobs softly as he swallows, starting to see that you have somehow stemmed from a similar branch of his. Although his was rougher, perhaps he was too stupid to think only he could experience guilt like this. A rose could have just as many thorns as a vine, it seems. His gloved hand gently tugs your chair closer to him, thankful for the fact practically no one is near your table. “It isn't fair on you— for me to act like that..” You mumble out, knowing it sounds silly compared to the things he probably deals with on the daily. But in reality, he had perhaps pressured you too much with his own glittery perception of you, unintentionally undermining your struggles.

“It was a dream for a reason, love; it won't come true.” He hums, gently pinching your cheek between his thumb and index, loving the way your lips purse so softly as you look up at him and he drops his hand again.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Well..” He starts, taking a sip of his coffee as he slings an arm loosely around the back of your chair and brushing your shoulders in turn. His eyes glancing off into the lights beyond the windows that decorate the trees with tiny sparkles. “You just warned me now, didn't you? So, now I know that you get a bit snappy when you’re overwhelmed and I can accommodate for that. You’re not some villain for that. It’s called communication, sweetheart.”

You blink up at him, probably expecting him to call you crazy for not being able to control yourself all the time like he did, and well everyone in your life.

“So, I can just tell you all my flaws.. And you won't mind? Even though I still get anxious crossing busy roads?” He chuckles at that, rubbing your shoulder with the palm of his hand and nodding, unbelieving that you thought he’d only turn you away.

“Yes, of course you can. I’ll even tell you one of my own. Military life can be a little unpredictable.. y'know? So I’m often shaken awake at two am and I have a feeling I might end up randomly texting you at that time..I don't expect you to wake up and reply, so don't even think about killin’ your sleep for me.” He chuckles as your lips part in surprise; then again, even he didn't expect he’d find solace in his nightmares just from your menial discussions. You’d laugh alongside him when he complained about the crappy rations, or even when he told you about something stupid he was thinking about. He tells you about some good movies he had watched, only because Soap forced him to, and you give him some recommendations of your own; though not before watching his that night, and giving your own opinions. It’d been a while since he’d even opened up with someone, and you made it feel okay.

“If it's on a weekend, I’ll wake up. It won't bother me, promise. If it’s not, I’ll reply first thing in the morning, okay?”

You’ll argue with him, but he still does really believe you’re the perfect person despite some stupid flaws you think you have. But of course, you seem to take them pretty seriously so he’ll do the same. It’s weird how you suddenly make him feel better about his own worries about himself too, the usual ache in his chest dissipating just a smidge. “Well how about you finish that soup before it gets cold, hm? I have a feeling there are a few more things you have on your mind and I think it’s about time someone helps you sort them out.”

—————-

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Taglist:

@hidden-treasures21 @bieberismysoulmate @gallantys @tessakate @galactict3a @krispymagazinepizza-blog @silas-aeiou @kupids-arrow @enfppuff @oydan @keytofu @vogueprincess

[sunflowergirl522]

Red String

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Red String of fate au

Word Count: 3932

A/n: Surprise!!! I finally wrote something again and I loved doing it! Expect more Bucky because the Thunderbolts trailers are doing something to me.

Masterlist

Bucky Barnes didn’t have a string. It never showed up when he was a teenager and he still didn’t have one by the time he got drafted. Which honestly made the fact that he did get drafted a little bit better because it wasn’t like he was leaving behind his soulmate like most of the other guys. Didn’t mean he liked the fact that he seemingly didn’t have one any more. He had hated it, he wanted a string, he wanted to find his person and fall in love. And then he fell off that train and one of his last conscious thoughts was how he was dying without ever getting one. And how maybe it was better that way.

And then it happened, the Winter Soldier got a string. It appeared during a mission to eliminate a Russian politician and the tightening of it when it did show up was almost enough to distract him. When he brought it up to his superiors they started ingraining it into him to ignore it completely. So by the time he was beating the brainwashing and being himself again he still didn’t even think about looking down at his pinky. A stark contrast from before the war when he’d look longingly down at it begging for his string to appear. That is until he felt it tugging on his pinky one day and his attention was drawn to it.

Your string appeared when you were sixteen. You were dozing off head in hand staring out the window in the middle of English Lit when you felt it wrap tightly around your pinky before loosening up to be comfortable. You had been waiting for your string to appear since your mom told you all about her and your dads strings so you couldn’t wait to get home and tell her about how the universe found your perfect match. She was so excited for you and couldn’t wait until you could meet them, more so than you were it seemed.

You were excited of course but you wanted to wait until you graduated high school to even try to follow it and find your person. Slowly the excitement started to die down because you can only tug on the string waiting for a response tug without getting one so many times before you start to ignore it yourself. And then you got busy with college and finding a job before you got blipped. By the time you were resituated after getting unblipped you assumed he had probably moved on with someone else while you were supposedly dead. There were stories you heard of strings disappearing the same way their loved ones did and some where the string stayed but it was slack the same way it is for those whose loved ones died. And so you tried not to think about it much after that, not wanting to interrupt whatever peaceful life they may have found in the five years you weren’t here. 

That is until one day when you were feeling especially lonely and thinking too much about your mom telling you that the universe paired you and whoever was at the end of your string together for a reason. You had a patient the day before tell you about how they found their anchor, a common term for the connected person, and had just had brunch with a friend and their freshly found match only an hour or two earlier. So you were feeling hopeless and a little needy, and maybe it was the mimosas you had begun downing because of feeling like a third wheel, but as you laid on your couch examining your string you decided to start tugging on it in hopes of some form of response.

Bucky was sitting on his couch when he felt the slight tugging on his pinky, a sensation that briefly took him back to his Winter Soldier days when he would be laying on his cot between missions and purposely forcing himself to ignore the string. Admittedly before the tugging he still hadn’t really paid much attention to the red string that was somehow always in his peripheral and funny enough in his last therapy session it had come up and she told him that maybe he should search the end of it out.

The tugging didn’t happen again right away though. There were three tugs and then Bucky had brought his hand up to his face to scrutinize the string on his pinky. He had begun to think that maybe he had imagined the tugging at all after some time passed but then there it was again three tugs and he could see the way the string pulled tight and went slack again. And so with the memory of Steve getting his string and then finding Peggy who had the other end and the feeling of hopelessness he remembers feeling when his never showed up before the war he decided to tug back. Not too hard, and just three tugs to match with whoever was there but he did it. And when there was immediate pull back he couldn’t stop the smile forming on his face.

When you got response tugs to your second set of three tugs you were shocked. So shocked that you pulled the string still between your fingers harder than you ever had as you shot up from your position laying on the couch. This was the first time you had ever gotten a response and you couldn’t quite believe it. If you weren’t still holding onto it you’re sure you would’ve been too stunned to do it for a while. 

The first thing you did after breaking out of your stupor about the response was call your best friend. She had found her anchor years ago and he was a stand up guy who very quickly became a close friend as well. They were both very pro you trying again and while she understood your hesitancy he was always trying to push you and convince you to do it. 

So here you are now celebrating in a bar with the two of them. Which was probably a bad idea considering how you were day drinking only hours ago and how quickly Jimmy has been refilling your drinks. Five drinks in and you’re stumbling your way back to your little group from the bathroom, where you met the most adorable girl who you let talk your ear off about archery for probably a little too long. You still didn’t leave before following each other on Instagram to possibly talk again. You bump into a man on your way back though and if it weren’t for him catching you you would’ve probably fallen down. 

“Woah careful there.”

“Sorry sorry.” You gain your balance back with the help of the man's hands on your shoulders.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah m’fine just have to get back to-” your sentence stops short as you finally look at your helper. “Hey aren’t you Captai-” His hand rushes to cover your mouth before you can finish and he puts a finger to his lips.

“Ya that’s me. Are you gonna make a big deal about it if I take my hand off your mouth?” You shake your head as his free hand adjusts the ballcap on his head.

“You know the hat and hoodie combo sucks as a disguise if you’re gonna help damsels in distress Sam. Can I call you Sam? Thanks.” You don’t give him time to answer which gets him to let out a chuckle. “Alright you don’t want to be recognized and I need to get back to my table, I think we can help eachother out with this.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mmhmm.” You move to stand next to him before interlocking your elbows and directing him to your friends. “You can be my support while I walk and no one will recognize you with a bunch of nobodies. C’mon Jimmy will even buy you a drink.”

“Look who decided to finally join us again!” Your friend Tiff elbows Jimmy before greeting you herself.

“Who’s this Y/n?”

“Guys this is Sam. Sam, this is my friend Tiff and her anchor James.”

“Is he?” Jimmy brings his arm in front of him to mock holding a shield and you nod to answer his question. “Well let me get you a drink Mr. America.” He salutes before heading off and you sit back in your spot across from Tiff. She looks at you with a question in her eyes before wriggling her string finger at you and looking towards him. You shake your head to answer the silent question.

“Welcome to the table Sam! What are you doing here tonight?”

“I’m in town visiting a friend. We’re supposed to meet here but I’m early because if you’re not early you’re late. Which he doesn’t understand so he’ll most likely actually be late.”

“You know Y/n’s always saying that same thing.” Jimmy sets a beer down in front of Sam and another screwdriver in front of you. “Is this friend of yours also a superhero?”

“James! You can’t just ask that.” You kick him under the table.

“Jeez you don’t have to Mean Girls me for it. I’m just curious.”

“None of you are freaking out the way most people do when a hero’s in front of them.”

“I never really cared that much and Jimmy’s met a good amount already.” Tiff explains to him.

“And I live vicariously through Jimmy which works out because I’ve gotten to meet two of them.”

“Oh? Who’ve you met?” Sam takes a swig of his beer and leans towards Jimmy.

“Well I was there when one miss Monica Rambeau got her powers during the Westview hex business with the Scarlet Witch.”

“So you met Wanda?” 

“Well no but me and Ant Man go way back.”

“That pest?”

“Scott’s the reason he’s into close up magic.” 

“Jimmy’s an FBI agent so he shouldn’t even be talking about this stuff.” Tiff pinches his arm as she talks.

“Technically isn’t he allowed to talk about it if he’s friends with them outside of FBI stuff. Oh hey speaking of which when do we get to see Darcy again I miss her?” A set of tugs on your string pulls your attention away from Jimmy’s answer as you look down at it with a smile. You give it a set of tugs back before tuning back into the conversation just in time to hear Sam go off about how annoying Scott is.

“You don’t like Scott?” You chime in with actual disbelief that anyone could dislike the goofball you’re glad to know.

“The guy can’t take anything serious!”

“Oh my god, wait! Is it because he kicked your ass once?” Sam shushes you after you finish getting the question out.

“Shh! Do you want everyone to hear you? How do you even know about that?”

“He told me about it.” You shrug as you answer. “We go out for lunch with him at least once a month.” We being mainly you and Jimmy, Tiff comes sometimes but for the most part likes to and wants to be away from the superhero lifestyle.

“You guys could do so much better.” Sam shakes his head. He only just met the three of you and already can tell how much you’re all good people.

“What, like with you?” It’s a joke and you laugh along with Jimmy while Tiff rolls her eyes with an amused smile on her face. She can feel it before it even crosses Sam's mind to agree with the two of you that he will. It’s just what happens when you and Jimmy get drunk together, two friendly awesome drunks equals becoming friends with every person they interact with throughout the night.

“You know what, yeah.” His eyes scan the table before settling on the pen that’s been sitting on it from before you three originally sat down. “Here, take my number. I’m in town for the weekend before going back down to Louisiana. Maybe we can get lunch and I can prove I’m better company than bug man.” He scribbles his number down on a napkin before pushing it into the middle of the table. You and Jimmy look at it before looking at each other and lunging to grab it before the other. Luckily Tiff gets it before a tug of war can happen.

“You’re both children, give me phones.” You slide yours over to her first and she puts in his number and sends him a message so he knows whose number is whose. When you get your phone back you try to make out the time on the lockscreen but the numbers blur together for a moment making it tricky.

“Oh shit is it really almost ten? I have an early appointment tomorrow!”

“Can’t you just phone it in?”

“No James I cannot just phone it in.” You mock his voice when you say it. “I have to be present for every client. You know how important mental health is.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a therapist but I mean you can probably consider me more of a counselor since I specialize in grief counseling. And I have to be at the office early tomorrow to get ready for the day. I knew there was a reason I couldn’t come out tonight, Jimmy.” You shoot him a glare since he had been the one to convince you to come celebrate. “Tiff, do you think you can take me home now?” When she nods and starts gathering her purse you turn to Sam. “Sorry to skip out on you Sam, but it was wonderful to meet you. Maybe I’ll see you this weekend it could be nice.”

“I’ll hold you to that, otherwise you will be hearing from my lawyers.”

“Aye aye captain.” You salute before following Tiff and a being pulled along Jimmy out the being held open door.

Not long after Sam catches Bucky in the crowd after getting fresh beers from the bartender and calls for his attention before motioning for him to sit at the table you all were at not long ago. Bucky makes his way over to it dodging a stumbling drunk on his way, already regretting telling Sam he would meet him for drinks. Not only will his companion be annoying but he’ll have to be surrounded by the drunk community that’s converged here.

“You’re late.” Sam shoves a bottle towards his friend as he sits down.

“I’m right on time. And don’t give me any of your ‘that’s still late’ bullshit. It’s not my fault if you were sitting here for thirty minutes alone because you decided to get here early.”

“Well for your information I wasn’t alone. I made friends because I’m a friendly guy and not a grumpy old man.” He shoots Bucky a pointed look. “Now what’s new with you, I’ve barely heard from you since you were down for our potluck.”

“There’s not much new.” Bucky shrugs and Sam looks at him like he doesn’t believe him. “I go to therapy, I just started paying attention to my string after feeling tugs for the first time since the Winter Soldier, I got an offer to get back into the field but I don’t know if I’ll take it, and I stay home for the most part. There’s really not a lot going on.”

“No, go back, two of those things are huge man. Tell me about the string thing.” Bucky sighs wishing he kept it to himself and knowing Sam wouldn’t leave him alone if he didn’t he starts talking about it.

After that night Sam had been the first one to reach out and text you and your friends, inviting you all out for lunch on Saturday. Jimmy had called you before you even saw the message between appointments complaining about how he couldn’t go and asking you to definitely say yes. You would’ve said yes to Sam regardless but with how often you live through Jimmy with his job you figured you could do him this solid and let him live through you. 

So here you are anxiously checking your phone for the time while stuck at a crosswalk where you can see the cafe you should’ve been at five minutes ago. As soon as you’re across the street you’re rushing into it catching sight of Sam and his ridiculously pulled down hat immediately. He’s sitting at a table in the back with another man who must be his friend he had told you was coming.

“Sorry I’m late! I really don’t have a good excuse.” You approach them as you talk, sliding your phone into your purse. The two mens attention goes to you and Sam smiles while Bucky sits there a little in awe. He was just messing with Sam about his new friend skipping out on him and here you are in a pretty sundress looking like some kind of angel with the light shining through the window.

“Hey there you are! Don’t worry about it, you're right on time.” Sam gets up and gives you a hug because even though you’ve only known each other a couple days it feels natural. “This is my friend Bucky. Bucky, this is my new friend Y/n.” His chair almost falls over in his rush to stand and offer his hand out for you.

“Hey there angel.” Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second at just how attractive he is, your face heating up at the nickname that falls from his lips.

“Hi.” You take his hand in your own and the moment you do a zing goes up your arm and your string tightens significantly on your finger before relaxing so much you barely feel it anymore. Your mouth drops open as you stare at your connected hands and follow the string from your finger to his.

Bucky feels like he might faint. How could the universe pair him up with a pretty thing like you when all he does is destroy everything he touches. Already he’s thinking about how you’ll react to finding out he’s the Winter Soldier and how he’ll most likely lose you before he ever had the chance to have you. There’s panic in his chest and he tries hard not to let it show but you know the look in his eyes when you look up. You’ve seen it enough in patients and in Tiff when she’s about to have a panic attack to recognize it immediately.

“Hey.” Your free hand caresses his face, pulling his attention to your face and leaning into the warmth of your hand a little. “It’s okay. Let’s sit down okay?” He only nods before sitting, your hand still clasped in his. You take the seat next to him and Sam excuses himself claiming to have to go to the bathroom but really wanting to give the two of you a minute recognizing the fact that you realized you were each other's anchors. 

“This can’t be happening.” He holds up the two of your hands and your face drops.

“Oh.” You start to pull away but he panics even more and clutches your hand in both of his.

“No it’s not you doll. It’s just, I…” He looks away and runs his tongue over his bottom lip before continuing. “I kill and ruin everything I touch. And you’re, God, you’re beautiful angel and you look sweet and soft and I’d hate if my rough edges tore that up. And once you know me, know who I am, who I was, what I’ve done, you won’t want to be around me anyway.”

“I’ve come across my fair share of rough edges, Bucky.” The way you say his name calms him down a bit. “Your past doesn’t define who you are. So whoever you say you were in the past, doesn’t mean that’s still who you are because people change.” Your words make him want to cry.

“Doll, I’m uh, I’m the Winter Soldier. There’s no changing what I’ve done.” Your hands fly to cover your mouth as the name clicks in your head and your eyes well with unshed tears and Bucky can just feel the rejection coming.

“Oh my God!” You launch yourself at him then bringing him into a hug, shocking both him and Sam who had just gotten back to the table.

“What did I miss?”

“You poor thing. Listen to me.” You pull back and put your hands on both sides of Bucky’s face forcing him to look at you. “Your past, what you did when you were forced to be the Winter Soldier, is not who you are at your core.” Bucky can only nod at you in disbelief that words like that came out of the mouth of someone who doesn’t know him.

“How do you even know about the Winter Soldier?” Sam asks shocked that what he thought was classified information was out. You turn then to face him taking your hands off of Bucky’s face as you do but returning one to his hand which you squeeze.

“Well he was on the news when they thought he killed the king of Wakanda but I found out more through Jimmy. Don’t tell anyone though, I don’t need him to get fired because he shared what he found in files with me.” 

Lunch continues with no more talk of the Winter Soldier or anything about you and Bucky being eachothers anchors. It consists of you and Sam talking with Bucky chiming in every once in a while but mainly staying an observer as he focuses on the feel of your hand in his, missing when it’s gone when you’re eating. Bucky Barnes has never thought of using the words touch starved to describe himself until you put your hands on him and wrapped him up in a hug despite knowing who he is.

“So what are you doing after this?” 

“Oh, I was just gonna sit at home and finish binge watching a show on Netflix. What are you and Bucky doing?”

“I’m heading back to my hotel room and double checking when my flight leaves tomorrow before logging into a call about an upcoming mission. I don’t think Bucky’s up to anything though, you two could continue hanging.” Sam, ever the wingman tries to get his friend more time to spend with you.

“I’d be down for that! Bucky, do you want to come home with me? I’ll start the show from the beginning if you want.” You turn to look at him with nothing but excitement on your face.

“If you want me to, I’d love to.” He smiles at your enthusiastic nod. 

“You guys get out of here.” Sam waves the two of you off as your server comes back with the check and his card.

“Aye aye captain.” You salute as you stand up and Sam smiles at how it’s the same way you acted the first time he met you sensing a trend. “I’ll text you later.”

“Bye guys.” Bucky gives him a nod in acknowledgment and you wave before linking your arm with Bucky’s and following him out the door.

“So what’s this show of yours about?” He asks letting you take the lead once outside. He can’t help but beam at you as you go on about a Christian cult island and vampires looking forward to his future for once instead of just dreading the past.

Bucky Taglist (11/40): @the-chocoholic-writer @vanillamaa @sailormajinmoon @enlyume @collywobbl @valhalla-kristin @nojamsonmytoast @esoltis280 @aactuaaltraash @cali-888 @moonNooon

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Everything Taglist: @matchamunson​ @bubsonnobx​ @practicalghost​ @katsukis1wife @crustyowos @yourfavdummy @protecteddiemunson4vr @kennedy-brooke @m00nkn1ghts @rory-cakes