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milkteamoon · 5 months ago

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The first and only girl Martin goes out with is openly bisexual.

He doesn't know if she counts, if he's being honest — it wasn't a crush, he knows that, and years down the line, when he thinks back to it, he can't remember them ever having a proper conversation about the whole status of their single-night relationship. He knows she had short hair, and sat in front of him in math class, and needed a date to the fall semi-formal so she'd asked if he was busy that weekend, and he'd said no, and then she'd asked if she could borrow a pen, and he'd said yes. He couldn't remember her name if he tried.

He does remember the pink and blue bracelet on her wrist that she'd worn to the event itself, and then to get ice cream after, where he'd sat on the curb of some old parking lot at the edge of town with her and her friends and her friends' boyfriends and her friends' boyfriends' friends, none of which were his friends, because Martin didn't have many of those. Except maybe the girl whose name he couldn't remember. Though he's not sure if maybe-probably-not-girlfriends count as friends too when you're in high school.

"D'you like it?" she'd asked once she'd noticed him staring, holding up her wrist and not seeming to care as ice cream dribbled down her spoon and fingers.

"It's nice," Martin had said, because he's nothing if not honest. "Did you make it?"

She'd nodded. "It's a bi flag," she'd explained. "I'm bisexual."

"Oh," Martin had said.

"You know what that is, right?" she had asked. "Like, when you like boys and girls?"

"I know," Martin had said, even if it had maybe slipped his memory until she'd brought it up. "That's cool."

And then she'd nodded, and ate her ice cream, and Martin had taken her home with as little a fanfare as he had picked her up earlier that evening. And then winter break had rolled around, and she'd been put in another class the following semester, and then life and bills had finally caught up with him and there wouldn't be another semester after that. He'd never seen her again, so he'd never got a chance to ask. Never got a chance to choke down that knot in his throat when he'd left her house that evening, unable to get the words out.

He doesn't remember her name anymore, but he does remember the jealous ache he'd felt at her certainty.

Martin's first boyfriend is definitely gay.

That's how they meet each other, really — in a gay bar, where Martin has met plenty of other men (testing the waters, he's been telling himself; no harm in a little exploration) and gone home with them, except this one asks for his number afterward, and this one calls him back, and this one actually seems to want to go out for drinks the next week, and the week after that, and before Martin knows it he's quite certain that he's dating this man. It's wonderful, whirlwind of an experience. It's exhilarating.

It's bloody terrifying.

And it's not being with a man that sets his anxiety on edge. Martin...Martin likes men. That's definitely a part of his identity that he's been able to sort out, over the years. Martin likes men, and he likes dating men, and he likes having sex with men, and he'd probably even marry a man, if he had the chance, if that's where one of these loose and languid relationships end up.

It's just—

It's just that—

It's just that Martin always seems to be the odd one out in these groups. It's just that when Martin meets up with his boyfriend's friends at the bar, when they're all laughing and sharing jokes and clinking their drinks together in some toast that Martin had missed the dedication to, they all just...get it somehow. They know who they are. They all have some special word for themselves that fits them like a tailored suit: Jacklyn is a butch lesbian, and Lee is trans, and Tom is a bear, and Jordan is gay and genderqueer and Collin is a drag performer and—

He's a few drinks in, to put it lightly, when he leans over to his definitely-boyfriend and asks him how he knew he was gay.

"How did I know?" he echoes, taking a sip from his fizzy drink. "Easy, I liked men." And then he laughs like Martin has just told a funny joke, and maybe he has and doesn't realize it, so he tries to laugh along. Tries to ignore the ache in his chest.

Martin wishes it were that simple. And when the two of them break up, Martin wishes that he ached just as badly over the relationship too.

Tim and Sasha are bi. Well, no, Tim is bi, and Sasha is—

"Pansexual," Sasha says through a mouthful of reheated spaghetti. She holds a finger up as she chews, swallows, and then adds, "Well, I mean. It's like the same genus, I guess."

"Like a leopard and a cheetah," Tim chimes in, leaning over to put an arm around her shoulders. She puts a hand against the side of his face to put some space between them, knocking his glasses askew.

"Leopards and cheetahs are different genuses," she tells him. "You're thinking of leopards and jaguars."

"Nuh uh."

"Uh huh."

"Nuh uh nuh uh—"

"Uh huh uh huh uh huh—"

And it's—

He likes Tim and Sasha. They're easy to exist around. They don't make him feel like he's not welcome at the end of the lunch table, or like he has to be anything more than simply himself in their presence. Call it bonding over the shared trauma of all being trapped down here together. Tim's jokes about Jon never letting them see the sun are starting to feel less like jokes these days, and more like statements of fact.

Then Tim leans over, seating his chin in his knuckles, and says, "So, Martin, you going to pride this year?"

And then all of those nice, floaty feelings suddenly come crashing out of solution and dropping down into the pit of his stomach. It must show on his face, because Tim's smile falls as he backpedals.

"O-or not!" he says, holding his hands up peaceably. "I mean— geez, sorry, I usually think I'm pretty good at noticing these things, but if you're not—"

"What? Oh, no no, you're fine, I'm definitely—" There's something on the tip of Martin's tongue that he can't put a word to, hasn't been able to put a word to for a long time. "...not straight. Er, I— I like...guys, at least...?"

A smile curls across Tim's face — amused, but not cruel. "Hey, that's at least one thing we've got in common," he says and holds up his fist for a bump. The spark of anxiety hasn't quite fizzled away, but it's pushed far enough down that Martin feels he can humor him.

To his equal relief and horror, Jon strolls into the room not a minute later and sticks himself firmly in the crosshairs of Tim's sights.

"Boss-man," he greets.

"Tim," Jon greets back, neutrally. He strolls over to the kitchenette, digging out a tea bag out of the cabinet.

"Are you going to pride this year?"

Martin chokes on his drink.

"No," Jon says, retrieving a tea bag and filling his mug as if Tim had simply asked him about the weather.

"C'mon," Tim purrs. He reaches over and gives Jon a tug by his belt loops. "You're just gonna sit at home all weekend and leave us to have all the fun?"

"I don't particularly find crowds 'fun,'" Jon retorts, batting away his hand. He picks up his mug. "You'll have to suffer without me."

"How will we ever go on," Tim laments.

"You'll manage," Jon says, then promptly retreats to his office.

Martin simply sits there with his mouth hanging open, only daring to speak once he hears the final click of the door pulled shut. "...Jon...?"

Tim looks over to him, eyebrow quirked. "What?"

"Jon."

"Oh." A smirk tugs at the corner of Tim's lips. "You didn't know?"

"Wh— no!" It's not even that Martin has ever really assumed that Jon is straight. It's just that, out of people in the office to be open about their sexualities, there's Tim and Sasha, and then there's Jon. It's just— it's Jon. "Did he tell you that?"

Tim shoots a look to Sasha. "Well, no," he admits, "but you know how it is, you work with someone long enough and you just sort of...get a vibe, yeah?"

Sasha nods at this assessment. "Plus the fact that he did agree to go on a date with David that one time."

"Oh god, haha! I forgot about that."

"He's gay, right?" Sasha says, looking to Tim.

"I'm pretty sure he mentioned an ex-girlfriend once," Tim notes, poking his fork into his salad. "Bi, maybe...? I'm going to go with bi."

"Could also be pan," Sasha notes.

Tim thinks on this for a moment. "Mm, no, definitely bi I think. My bi-dey senses are tingling. Sorry Sash," he concludes, earning him a light kick to the shin from Sasha at the pun. He shoves a forkful of salad in his mouth before redirecting his attention back to Martin. "So, Martin. Pride, yay or nay?"

"Uh—" Martin blinks, viscerally aware of himself once more. He's not sure how to put I've never really thought about going into so many words that doesn't make him sound incredibly lame or formerly catholic, so in the end he decides on a redirect. He clears his throat. "I'm...not sure? Haven't really decided."

"That's fine," Tim says with a half shrug. "Though we'll be there, so if you do end up going, just text us and we'll meet up, yeah?"

There's a little plant inside Martin, something green and budding, but never able to bloom — always pruned too early, or watered too late, or bitten off by the frost. But some days, he thinks about opening the curtains and letting in the sun. Some days, he thinks about letting it bloom, finally, fully—

"Yeah," Martin says softly, looking up from his open palms. "Yeah, that'd...that'd be good."

And despite himself, he smiles.

Martin is—

Martin is quite certain he has never been sweatier in his life.

It's a wonderful time. It's bright. It's beautiful. He's seen so many colors and grins and glitter on more people than he can count today. People holding hands and people kissing and people dressed in outfits he can't even begin to describe, genders he can't even begin to put names to, flags he can't even begin to guess the meaning of. His heart feels so big in his chest he could die, pushing on the bars of his rib cage with each resounding thu-thump, and it's wonderful, wonderful, wonderful—

(And so very isolating. So very lonely when he feels like he's not meant to be there, like he wasn't invited, like he's invading this space carved out in neat rows of labels that he can't even straddle properly to get in line. He doesn't— he can't—)

Martin finds a moment of shade just as he feels he's teetering on the edge of heat exhaustion. He stumbles under the awning, smearing the sweat and residual glitter out of his eyes as he leans his head back against the wall. Music hums from the street over, voices carry on the warm summer air. He really needs to find something to drink, so he can appreciate it more instead of focusing on the way his shirt clings to his skin. He really should find Tim and Sasha, before they get off into any trouble.

Someone lets out a huff next to him as they lean back against the wall, and Martin peels open an eye to look.

And then both his eyes snap open at once, double taking at the man standing next to him. He doesn't seem to notice him at first, too focused on fanning himself with some pamplet he'd snagged along the way, but then his gaze shifts sideways, and the pinched expression smooths out into one of blank bewilderment.

Jon blinks, wide eyed. "Martin."

Okay, well that at least solves the issue of whether or not Martin is supposed to be pretending not to know him or not. He clears his throat, trying to smile. "Jon...h-hi."

It's not even the fact that— okay, well, yes, seeing Jon at a queer event is pretty weird, but seeing Jon outside of work, in jeans no less, is certainly not helping the sensation that Martin might very well be hallucinating this interaction. He looks him up to his thick-lensed glasses, down to his plain sneakers that have seen better days, and even pinches himself for good measure. Jon doesn't move. Martin isn't sure that he himself would be able to move either, even if he wanted to.

Then Jon's brow furrows, and he looks around. "Are Tim and Sasha around...?"

"Oh, n-no, they went off," Martin gestures vaguely in the direction he'd last seen them, "somewhere."

"Ah."

"Mm."

"Right."

"...What...are you doing here, exactly?" Martin finally asks in some burst of unsourced courage.

Jon's winces, red-handed. Not that Martin would ever say anything to Tim or Sasha about their boss going to pride without them on his own time — it's honestly none of his business — but he also knows that if the two of them suspect something is up, they'll never let either of them live it down.

Jon sighs, shoulders drooping. "I...an old friend, she— she didn't wish to come alone this year, and apparently I'm the only other queer she knows that doesn't enjoy getting plastered off my arse at these types of events, so—" Jon shrugs lightly.

There's something about the way Jon says it, the only other queer, that leaves a funny, prickling sensation in the center of Martin's chest, and it's not just the heat giving him a rash. It's just...it's nice. It's nice the way he says it, all casual like he's just giving Martin another report to follow up.

Jon pushes the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead, giving Martin a sideways glance up and down. He redirects, "You know, I would have thought you'd be more, er..."

"More...?"

"...Well, dressed up, I suppose?" He gestures to Martin's outfit — a pair of khaki shorts with pockets stuffed to the brim in emergency snacks, a green t-shirt with the local football team logo, an old pair of sneakers he really needs to replace — in a vague enough gesture to slip just under the line of insulting, but still enough to make Martin feel horribly seen. Granted, Jon isn't much better in his plain blue polo, but the fact of Jon being in jeans at all is currently eclipsing the fact that he's a tad underdressed for the event.

But—

But it's not that Martin doesn't want to. It's not that Martin doesn't want to be a part of this moment, this moment, this microcosm in the middle of London of so many people like him. It's something he's always wanted. Something he's always dreamed of, something he'd thought about all the way back in his high school bedroom when he'd had all these feelings knotted up in his chest that he couldn't put a word to, still can't put a word to, doesn't know how to put a word to even though it's right there in front of him if he could just stretch out his fingers—

"I thought about it," he admits with a shrug. Tim and Sasha were each dressed in a blinding shower of color and glitter, and he knows they'd never make him feel out of place. "It's just...there's too many—" He stops, takes a deep breath, and tries to ignore the thumping of his heartbeat in his ears. "There's too many words, I guess?"

Jon pauses his lazy fanning, looking up at him. "Too many words?" he parrots.

Martin wets his lips. "Like— like— like, everyone has a word for themselves, y'know? They have a flag, they have a group, they have— have people that they can relate to, and then you feel like you find something that almost right, but it's not perfect, and you— you—"

And you don't fit in, Martin doesn't say, because the rushing stream of words has suddenly stopped up in his throat, choking him. And you definitely aren't straight, but you aren't queer like everyone else is. You aren't queer in the right way.

Jon looks at him for a considerable moment, and suddenly Martin is all too aware of his body, his bones, his sweat, the itchy prickling of his skin—

Jon sighs as he gives him a half shrug. "So don't be anything."

The music from the street over lulls into a faint hum.

"What?" Martin says.

"So don't be anything," Jon repeats, enunciating as if he thinks that Martin misheard him. He frowns as he chooses his next words. "I'm not...it's...I..."

Martin waits quietly.

"I..." Jon says, "I guess when I was just starting to— to figure things out, I was certain I was gay. And then I went to uni and I had...a multitude of other things to address, and then for a bit I was...straight? I guess? And that was a whole thing, and then I was bi, and— well, I guess I'm technically still bi, but it's not...not exactly correct—" He frowns, looking up at him. "I guess...it just doesn't really matter to me? You don't...have to be anything."

Martin opens his mouth. He closes it. "But—" he says, tongue feeling thick in his mouth, "but—"

But then I have to be me, he doesn't say, even if the words are trying to push out past his teeth. But then the only thing I can be is me.

"...But that's scary," Martin says without meaning to, only hearing the words as they pass through his own lips. His eyes blow wide as he looks down at Jon (at his boss), and knows the simmering heat flushing down to his chest has nothing to do with the weather.

Jon stares at him for a quiet, considerate. And then he turns his head away and lets out a very undignified snort.

Martin feels his world tip onto its side.

It had to be a snort. It can only be a snort, even if Jon doesn't snort because Jon doesn't laugh, and Jon doesn't laugh because Jon doesn't smile, and Jon doesn't smile because Jon is typically too busy snapping at him over some stupid mistake he's made for the umpteenth time—

Jon looks up at him again, and he's downright grinning. Martin is quite certain he needs to be doused over the head with a bucket of ice water, or pinched hard enough to draw blood, or sent off to the hospital to get his head checked out because what the fuck. What the fuck.

"As my grandmother was so fond of reminding me, 'if it weren't scary, everyone would be doing it,'" Jon says finally, peeling off his glasses to wipe the sweat from the lenses onto his shirt. He places them back on his nose, then pushes himself up. "You should find Tim and Sasha," he says. "And I should find Georgie before I get left here. Again."

"Uh," Martin says, still trying to mentally recover from the fact that Jon smiled at him, and now everything feels like its been knocked into an alternate universe slightly to the left. His head feels weird. His chest feels weird. "Right."

"There's a—" Jon points a thumb behind himself, "a place we can cut through, if you want to—"

"Oh. Oh, yeah! Yeah, lead— lead the way."

It's not perfect, Martin thinks.

It's not perfect, but it's close. It's close when they step out of the alley back onto that crowded street, when the colors all bleed into a mess of a million different rainbows as far as the eye can see. It's close when they both get sprayed with glitter, Jon scowling and swearing as he tries to get it off himself and sending Martin laughing so hard that his sides ache. It's close even with the heat, even with the noise, even with the shouting because there's laughter in between laughter in between laughter again—

"Would you like a button?" a girl with green hair asks as she sits behind a table of every flag Martin has ever seen and then some. He takes a moment to look over each one carefully. Jon wanders up beside him, looks them through, and carefully selects a pink, purple, and blue one, to which he silently deposits in his pocket.

Martin picks up a plain rainbow one, considers it, and then pins it to the left side of his shirt.

It's not perfect, he thinks, but it's close enough.

#thought too much about martin being demiromantic and complicated during my writing warm up and accidentally wrote ten million words about it #oopsies #sorry in advance if this has like. ten million typos in it i cant be assed atm #the magnus archives #tma #milk writes

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faebaex · 1 year ago

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Accidentally Courting an Eel Ⅰ

author note: oooops I was supposed to post this days ago but then it somehow ended up being almost 5k words?? And this is only part 1?? Sorry sorry, I hope you enjoy it! A lot of chaos here, the only one who shows any kind of sense is Ruggie, we love you king! also many character cameos as well! i hope i did them justice

warnings: Cursing, violence, reader is quite a feisty and angry person tbh

characters: Floyd Leech x F!Reader

Your world had been turned upside down when you had returned from summer break. Intent to start your second year, you instead went to your first day of the semester only to find out that your mage school was closing and being absorbed by another school. In a whirlwind, you found yourself in the prestigious Night Raven College opening ceremony, being placed in a dormitory posthaste (you found yourself sorted into Heartslabyul, your new housewarden seemed absolutely unhinged) and then expected to continue in as normal. You had no idea why your academy closed, or why such a prestigious college was so willing to absorb an indie mage academy with a small student cohort and an obscure reputation, and those questions were never answered. Life just kind of… Went on.

Whilst the arrival of new students at the start of a new academic year wasn’t strange, it was entirely unusual to receive sophomore and senior students with the incoming batch of freshmen, so there was a lot of excitement that followed the first couple of weeks that you and the rest of your previous cohort had at Night Raven College. Lots of eyes on you, sizing you up and trying to get an idea of what you were worth… And for you, that meant a few fights.

You were known in your previous academy as being quite fiery, not hesitating to throw hands if you needed to, despite being on the shorter side compared to your peers. You were a scrapper, and a dirty one at that, more than willing to bite, scratch and pull hair if it meant that you could get the upper hand. It had gotten to the point that you began wearing shorts underneath your skirt, so that you had more freedom of movement if you needed to kick someone where the sun didn’t shine. You had the most spats with the Savanaclaw dorm, growing sick of being shoulder bumped and generally harassed by the predominantly beastman dorm. After the first couple of fights and during your next, you’d found yourself thrown over the shoulder of the Savanaclaw housewarden, Kingscholar, and extracted from the situation. You received a rather stern lecture on how you needed to stop getting into fights with his boys (which you gave him a few choice words right back) but after that, you seemed to find yourself getting bothered a lot less by the Savanaclaw students. And to be honest, a lecture from Kingscholar was miles more bearable than a lecture from housewarden Rosehearts. There were only so many apology essays you could write, after all.

After a few weeks, the novelty of having new students wore off and you were able to carry on with your school life without much issue. Sure, you got into a few fights here and there occasionally, but nothing too major, enough for you to skate under the detection of housewarden Rosehearts. After all, nothing was worse than sitting through a Rosehearts lecture. Weeks blended into months, and soon you were far into your first semester, and had rather gotten used to life at Night Raven College. You’d even managed to build some sort of rapport with your housewarden, who was less on your back now that your constant fighting had calmed down.

You found yourself sighing as you made your way to the potions lab, leafing through your notes on the way. Professor Crewel had set up and assignment and paired everyone off and to be honest, the assignment had been a complete nightmare. Together, you and your partner were supposed to brew an energy boosting potion, but you had to figure out the ingredients and brewing method with only a few hints and clues along the way. Crewel refused to give further instruction apart from surveying the ingredients selected by students, to ensure no dangerous mishaps could occur, stating with a slap of his whip that the whole point of the assignment was for students to study the potion and ingredients available to them to create the potion. Unfortunately for you, your partner for this assignment didn’t have the best grade in potionology, and considering that this assignment was graded, anything short of a good pass would have housewarden Rosehearts chasing you around the dorm demanding an explanation. Thankfully, you seemed close to finishing the assignment, the ginger root you required as your last ingredient finally having finished distilling. You were on your way to the potion lab after classes now to meet with your partner to finish brewing the potion and finally be free of the assignment that had been weighing around your neck for the last few weeks.

Or so you thought.

When you entered the lab, your lab partner was waiting there as expected, but you knew at first glance that something was up. The closer you got to him, the paler you noticed his face was, and you couldn’t help raising your brow as you stopped beside him. “What’s up?” You queried, placing your notes on the desk and putting down your bag by your chair. A few other students were milling around the potions lab, trying to finish their own assignments, one of them being Ruggie, a Savanaclaw student you usually saw running around after Kingscholar. He looked rather sheepish, his ears twitching as he stared hard at his own assignment. Your eyes fell back to your lab partner, who still looked like he would rather sink through the floor than be in the lab at that moment. “Well? Are you ready to finish the assignment? The ginger root should have distilled now so all we need to do is brew—”

“Um… About the ginger root…” Your lab partner began in a small voice, and you could see sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, “I think we are going to have to distil it again…” You blinked and stared blankly at your lab partner, as if he had suddenly grown an extra limb. “Distil it again? It took us 2 days to distil the first vial! What happened to the one we distilled?” You asked, frustration clear in your tone and mounting fast. If your lab partner wanted to sink through the floor before, now he wanted the ground to just open and swallow him whole. His eyes darted around nervously and he leaned forwards, closing the gap between you so he could whisper to you, “someone… Took it.”

You stared incredulously at him, “do you know who?” Your partner nodded; his eyes glued to the floor. “Then just take it back!” You hissed, at a loss at why your lab partner didn’t just retrieve your ginger root and resolve the situation, but his eyes shot up at your words and he looked terrified at the suggestion. “N-no way!” He stuttered, his face somehow becoming paler, “look, lets just wait a few days. I’ll distil another vial, I’ll do all the work—”

“Who took it?” You demanded flatly.

“Just forget about it, we still have time—”

“Who. Took. It.” You repeated sharply, your eyes narrowing into a glare on your lab partner. He swallowed thickly, and he discreetly nodded his head in the direction of the culprit. Your eyes left your lab partner and settled on the culprit, and you crossed your arms over your chest. “Look,” your lab partner started, moving to put a hand on your arm, “Just leave it, whatever you’re thinking, it’s not a good idea—”

“Wait here.”

You brushed off your lab partner’s hand as you began walking over to the culprit, who had his back to you as he leafed through the ingredients in the potionology inventory. He was tall, towering over you even when you weren’t that close to him yet, with teal coloured hair and roughly put together uniform. You could spy what you assumed to be your vial of ginger root tucked into the crook of his hand as he thumbed through the rest of the jars and bottles on the shelf, clearly looking for ingredients to complete his own assignment. And apparently, he had decided that your ginger root was his for the taking.

“Oi. Give back my ginger root.” You demanded, glaring at the back of the culprit’s head.

“Ahh~? Get lost, guppy. I’m workin’ here.” The culprit drawled back, not even bothering to look back at you as he continued to flip through ingredients, not a care in the world.

“Yeah? Well, you’ll be working on your ass if you don’t give me back my ginger root.” You retorted, folding your arms across your chest as you continued to glare. That seemed to get his attention, as he turned around to face you. His eyes seemed to light up when he caught sight of you, a wild grin spreading across his lips, showcasing his freakishly sharp teeth. Yikes.

“Ahaa~ You’re real tiny, little guppy. Hey, why don’t you come get your ginger root back?” He challenged, a glint in his eyes that immediately told you that this guy was going to mess with you. You tried to reach for the vial, but he quickly snatched it away, dangling it high in the air over your head with a spiteful grin. “Ah, ah, ah guppy, you’ll have to try harder than that. C’mon, jump for it.”

You clicked your tongue, feeling your blood boiling at his attitude. You stood on the tips of your toes, and even then, you were barely closer to his face. “None of us will have ginger root when I shove that vial so far down your throat no one will have to hear your annoying voice again.” You hissed at him lowly, your lips twisted up in an annoyed snarl. All amusement and mocking sank out of his face as his own face darkened, his pupils shrinking as he now began to glare at you. “You got alotta nerve, guppy. Who do you think you’re talking to?”

The two of you glared at each other, and he leaned forward with menacing intent, “Maybe I should do you a favour and squeeze some sense into ya.” He said, all previous drawl lost from his tone as he threatened you now. You scoffed, having had more than enough of this guy. You quickly reached forward and yanked that stupid black lock of hair that hung down his face, catching him by surprise and using that opportunity to push him back, making him collide into the ingredients shelf, the jars and vials rattling precariously from the impact. You tried to reach for vial of ginger root, that now also balanced dangerously in his hand, but before you could reach it, his arms suddenly locked around your middle, lifting you off the ground and squeezing. You felt your ribs begin to protest as he crushed you, and you hissed in pain, your legs kicking violently at whatever you could in an attempt to get free. You could vaguely hear the sound of smashing glass, but you couldn’t focus on that. Now when he was staring down at you, a smug smile spreading across his lips as he watched you struggle. It made you seethe. You twisted and kicked, and somehow managed to free your left arm. Striking before he could restrain you again, you took your chance and seized hold of his earring and yanked. You heard him grunt as the earring came away in your hand, but it still wasn’t enough for him to let you go, so you turned your head and sank your teeth into his arm. He froze when you did that, his hands slackening enough that you slipped out of his grasp altogether, your feet hitting the floor quicker than you expected, almost making you fall backwards. You steadied yourself, readying a follow up attack when he was still stunned frozen after you bit him, only to feel yourself yanked backwards at the waist and thrown over someone’s shoulder, moving at such a nimble speed that the ginger root stealing culprit was soon leaving your sight as you were whisked out of the potions lab.

“Put me down!” You seethed, trying to lean up in your captor’s grasp, your hand pressing into their shoulder. “Ruggie?! What do you think you’re doing? Put me down right now!” Ruggie ignored your complaints, running through the corridor with surprising ease despite you being on his shoulder, zipping through winding corridors like this wasn’t his first time.

“No can do. If Leona found out you’d been fighting again and I was there and didn’t do anything, he’d have my tail.” Ruggie grumbled, his ears going flat at the thought, “and with Floyd Leech of all people! I mean this respectfully but, Y/N are you nuts? You gotta have a death wish.” Ruggie continued to spout off about how you had not perception of threat or danger, just throwing your hands left, right and centre without any care for who you were dealing with. You scrunched up your face, a lecture from Ruggie not on your bingo card for the year, that’s for sure.

“Who is Floyd Leech?” You grumbled sourly, starting to feel a little dizzy from a combination of the blood rushing to your head and how quickly Ruggie sped through the corridors. Ruggie shook his head, glancing up at you incredulously. “Floyd Leech is the guy you just rammed into the potions inventory, and probably in every student in this school’s top 10 guys not to mess with ranking. High up too, I imagine.” Ruggie commented dryly, his speed slowing to a slow jog as he seemed to near to the destination you had in mind. “Crewel is going to kill you by the way, if Floyd doesn’t first. You absolutely totalled his potionology inventory for that lab.”

You groaned at that, the consequences of your actions starting to rear their ugly head. Either way, housewarden Rosehearts would have your head, if there was anything left of it after Crewel was done with you. You didn’t get a chance to wallow, as Ruggie slowed to a stop and gently lowered you off of his shoulder. You looked around, only to notice you were standing outside of the infirmary. “Why did you bring me here? I’m fine.” You questioned, only for Ruggie to give you another stunned look, his tail flickering anxiously behind him.

“What? Y/N… Uh… Your legs are kinda…” Ruggie trailed off and you looked down, your eyes widening as you saw an array of cuts down your bare legs, dripping blood down to your socks. “Oh… Oops.” You muttered, looking a little sheepish. Ruggie scratched behind his ear, looking slightly awkward himself. “Yeah… You should probably get those checked out…”

You sighed as you turned to the infirmary door, a small grimace on your lips. “Thanks, Ruggie… Feel free to tell housewarden Kingscholar that you saved the day.” That seemed to brighten the mood a little bit, Ruggie’s characteristic smile starting to come back to his face. “You bet I will, shishishi…” With that, he scurried off, leaving you to enter the infirmary alone. As you were about to push the door open, you noticed the something in your hand, opening it to reveal a teal earring clutched in your fist. You sighed again, having completely forgotten in the heat of the moment that you’d torn that out of Floyd’s ear. Not knowing how to deal with it, you slid it into your skirt pocket and entered the infirmary.

You sighed as you trudged back to your dorm room, rubbing your head with a tired expression. You’d barely finished having the cuts on your legs checked for glass and cleaned when Professor Crewel had come marching into the infirmary to tear you a new one. You swear your ears were still ringing from the crack of his whip, knowing you’d be hearing it in your nightmares for the next couple of days at the least. You’d been instructed to attend the potionology lab after classes tomorrow to clean up the mess you’d made, and for whatever other punishment Crewel deemed necessary for however many days he deemed. You fully expected to get chewed out by Crewel even more tomorrow when you attended your detention, but that was something to dread tomorrow.

You’d survived your encounter with Floyd Leech largely unharmed, luckily the cuts on your legs not having any glass stuck in them and shallow enough that they’d likely heal in a couple of days, easily bandaged up to keep them clean. Your ribs, however, were bruised and hurt like a bitch, but again, it could have been worse. Surprisingly, another thing that could be worse was the reaction from Housewarden Riddle once you had gotten back to the dorm. He was waiting for you by the doors to be dorm, and you expected to lose your head immediately. Instead, you sat through a two-and-a-half-hour lecture about how unacceptable your behaviour was and how he expected you to apologise to Crewel sincerely posthaste, as well as demanding you write a 2000 word apology essay. But oddly enough, Riddle seemed more irked that it was Floyd Leech that you had gotten into a fight with, warning you to keep clear of him if you valued your education.

Floyd Leech this, Floyd leech that. All everyone talked about was Floyd damn Leech, like he was some sort of terror on campus. Although you had to admit, if he managed to even rile Riddle up to that extent, maybe there was something about him.

Either way, you didn’t really care. The adrenaline from the fight had worn off an hour ago, and you were beyond exhausted. You pushed open the door to your dorm room and flopped face down onto your bed, ready to pass out into oblivion, only to feel a stabbing pain in your thigh. You groaned dramatically and rolled onto your back, patting at the bed to try and find the source of your irritation. Finding nothing, you patted at your thigh, slipping your hand into your pocket and feeling something jingle. With a quizzical hum, you pulled out a set of teal jewels, squinting at it in confusion, before it finally clicked.

Floyd Leech’s earring.

You held it up to the light, watching the light shine off of the three jewels that dangled from the simple golden stud. It was quite pretty, actually. As you continue to gaze at the earring as it dangled between your fingers, you noticed that the chain that attached the teal jewels to the stud were slightly damaged. You sat up, bringing the earring closer to your face to inspect it. Huh, it must have gotten damaged when you had pulled it out of Floyd’s ear… You turned the earring around in your hand, giving it another look over whilst you mulled over what you should do. Standing, you made your way to your desk, turning on the desk lamp and laying the earring carefully on the desk, you got to work…

“I don’t want to see a single shard of glass on that floor. Do you understand, pup?”

“Yes sir.” You muttered dejectedly, beginning to sweep up the mounds of glass that littered the battered potions inventory. You had to admit, you and Floyd had done a number on it, the floor chaotic with smashed glass and spilt ingredients, plant leaves mushed together from being trodden underfoot and staining the tiles of the lab. You sighed quietly under your breath, knowing that it was going to take a long time to clean all of this up.

As you cleaned, your eyes kept flickering to the door. You weren’t the only one who was supposed to be cleaning up this mess. Floyd was supposed to be here too. However, he had yet to turn up, so the lion’s share of the work was currently left to you. Crewel sat at his desk, grading alchemy papers whilst keeping an eye on your progress, probably to heckle you if your progress slowed. Your ribs still throbbed dully, protesting every time you bent at the waist to retrieve a particularly hefty chunk of glass, Crewel peering over at you occasionally to make sure you didn’t cut yourself any more than you already were. You could only hope you could get this done quickly so you could leave.

After what felt like hours, you had finally cleaned all the glass and ingredients off the floor, the process taking longer than you anticipated after Crewel insisted that you disposed of the spoiled ingredients properly, and then scolding you for yipping and giving you an impromptu lecture on correct ingredient disposal methods. You were about to pull of your gloves when Crewel once again appeared in front of you, a large cardboard box in his arms that he placed on a nearby desk.

“You’re not finished yet, pup. I expect you to arrange the new ingredients onto the shelves in proper order.” Crewel instructed, and you felt yourself grimace before you could stop yourself.

“Do I have to? Can’t Floyd do it? I cleaned up the entire floor!” You complained, deciding to push your luck anyway. Crewel looked around the room, an eyebrow raised before his eyes fell back on you.

“Do you see Leech anywhere?” Crewel said, and you could tell by his tone that you’d already lost. Why did he have to be so sassy?!

“… No.” You mumbled, cringing as you heard the thwapping of Crewel’s whip against his gloved palm.

“Exactly, now get to work. You can go once I approve the finished inventory.” Crewel ordered, making his way back to his desk whilst you rummaged through the cardboard box of fresh ingredients, a hard done by pout on your face. “Yes sir…”

“Good girl.”

Your entire body felt stiff the next morning, your joints cracking as you stretched with a groan. Floyd had never turned up in the end, leaving you to clean up the entire inventory and restock it, which was no easy task with Crewel’s finicky tastes. It took numerous attempts and lectures on the importance of ingredient storage before Crewel was finally happy enough to grant you freedom, only to miserably crush your spirit by informing you that he expected you to attend to the regrowth of replacement ingredients in the botanical garden for the next 3 days. Lucky you.

The only saving grace was that your initial sentence in the botanical garden had been reduced as a result of Floyd not turning up at all when you were supposed to clean the potionology lab. By the sound of it, Crewel was going to be ensuring that he served his detention in the botanical garden.

You found yourself slightly irritated that Floyd hadn’t turned up to your joint detention. Not only because it meant you had to spend hours cleaning up a mess that arguably wasn’t entirely your fault, but also because you had planned to give him back his earring. You had stayed up late into the night fixing the earring, fairly satisfied with yourself for making it look as good as new. You planned to hunt him down today to give it back to him, no matter what, if only because walking around with it in your pocket made you feel like it was going to inevitably get broken again.

Your fight with Floyd had spread around campus like wildfire, and you had people you didn’t even know commenting on how hardcore you were for going up against Floyd Leech without batting an eyelid. You’d also heard that since the fight, Floyd had been in a foul mood, and it was fifty fifty between students complimenting you and blaming you for being the unfortunate victim of Floyd’s new vile mood.

Either way, Floyd’s mood was not enough to deter you from finding him to return his earring. However, you couldn’t find him in the morning on the way to classes, and you didn’t see him at lunch either. You were wondering if you were going to have to go all the way to the Octavinelle dorm after classes, not really looking forward to that thought and beginning to think about whether this was all really worth it. Maybe you should just flag down a random Octavinelle student and give them the earring and just hope it made its way back to Floyd.

As you were pondering as you walked to your club, you saw a flash of teal at the end of the corridor, looking up quickly to see the retreating figures of a light grey-haired student along with two taller, teal haired students, one with a pretty unmistakable slouch with his hands in his pockets. A-ha!

“Oi! Floyd Leech!” You called, starting to break out into a light jog in case he didn’t stop and turn around. Luck was somewhat on your side, as all three of the students stopped and turned their attention to you, and you vaguely recognised one as the housewarden for Octavinelle. He was currently eyeing you up, meanwhile the teal haired student who wasn’t Floyd was giving you a smile that, whilst coming off polite at face value, reeked of mocking. You ignored them both, slowing to a stop in front of Floyd and boy, the other students were right. He looked like he was in a terrible mood, his eyes narrowed on you like he was about to start another fight.

“What do you want, guppy? I’m busy.” He drawled; his eyebrows furrowed as he frowned down at you. You scoffed at that, shooting your own frown back at him reproachfully. “I was really busy yesterday when someone didn’t turn up to their detention and I had to clean and rearrange the entire potionology inventory by myself.” You shot back at him, narrowing your eyes at him and watching him just stare back at you disinterestedly.

“Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. Here.” You fished into your pocket carefully and brought out the teal earring, dangling it carefully between your fingers. If you weren’t so distracted trying to get the earring out of your skirt pocket as gently as possible, you would have seen the flicker of surprise that went across Jade’s expression, or how Azul pushed up his glasses in an attempt to mask his own surprise. “I didn’t realise I still had it on me when I left the potions lab, to be honest. It got a little damaged during the fight, but I managed to fix it so good I bet you can’t even notice!” You weren’t even aware of the proud little beam that was on your face as you spoke of your repair job, or how all three of them stared at you in a veiled mix of surprise, confusion, and awe.

You held the earring out to Floyd for him to take, which he did, all previous traces of irritation washed from his face now as he held his earring in his palm. A silence had fell between you and considering that the situation was already awkward enough as it is, you decided to excuse yourself. “Well, that was all I wanted. I’ll be leaving.” You didn’t wait for any of them to respond, and none of them did as you walked past them and continued on your way to your club activities.

So happy you were to finally have that interaction over with and not have to worry about re-damaging the delicate earring that had made its home in your pocket over the last couple of days, you didn’t notice how Floyd Leech stared wistfully at your retreating back, said earring cradled carefully in his bare palm…

#twst #twisted wonderland #floyd leech x reader #twst floyd #floyd leech #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x y/n

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pricegouge · 13 days ago

Note

Absolutely drooling at the thought of stepcest with price.

Like imagine him meeting and marrying your mother in a whirlwind romance while you’re out of the country. Like most military men it was a speed run through the stages of the relationship and he has a ring on her finger within 2 months.

Because of this, that and the other you weren’t able to make it to the wedding but you’re home now, so eager to meet this new man in your moms life who has her glowing and over the moon at every little thing he does.

It’s a shame he’s such a fucking pervert.

The first time you meet he lights up, a smile so wide it makes his eyes crinkle and you see a mouthful of teeth. He comes in for a hug that lasts a hair too long but you don’t even notice, too caught up in everyone’s infectious energy.

It only snowballs from there. Touches start lingering, hands are placed either too high or too low to be completely innocent, innuendo dripping from every word.

It’s mortifying how it makes you drip.

You’re in your room with your hand shoved down your pants, biting the knuckles on your other hand to try and keep yourself quiet, rubbing/tugging furiously trying to keep your mind from wandering to what John looked like this morning when he was cooking breakfast—shirtless giving your eyes plenty of real estate to land on. His strong body covered in a healthy layer of pudge and hair alike which made you want to lick him.

So now you’re rubbing one out trying your hardest not to think of your stepfather as you make yourself cum.

It works until he opens the door right as you’re hitting that wave, “Hey kiddo, do you—“

The John! that slips out was supposed to be admonishing, a chastisement and demand he leave all wrapped in one word. What actually happens is your voice hitches on a moan as you spasm and it comes out as a long, drawn out Johhhhnn as you cover your fingers, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

You see him swallow roughly before he takes a step inside, closing the door behind him, “You need help with something, sweetheart?”

I’m 🫠🫠🥵

<33

cw: f!reader (chubby if you squint but mostly size neutral). stepcest, implied agegap (reader is legal), dubcon but reader is definitely into it. masturbation. infidelity/cheating. daddy kink. bratting but john is not looking to tame it, stuffie humping, dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering. slut shaming, if you squint (john is a brat and a slut enthusiast.) some angst, as a treat. abrupt ending

christ but you hate him. the immediate drop you'd felt when you'd, the high of thinking your mom had finally found someone to make her happy (even if it all seemed a little rushed) to the low of returning from your gap year abroad to find that pervert sitting at the kitchen table, knowing instantly he was no good just based on how he leered at you. you're no stupid, you've seen that look before, but your mom's completely oblivious, doesn't see the way his heavy mits linger on you, doesn't believe when you say he's no good. honeymoon stage, you figure; she'll come around, she's a smart woman.

but john does not let up as time lingers on, and your mom carries on with her blinders in place. you're not sure what's worse, watching your mother continue to delude herself, or returning from break every semester to find a warmer (if not far more inappropriate) welcome in john's arms with each passing instance.

or how it makes you leak like a sieve when he eyes you from across the dinner table your first night back every time, hunger growing with each passing month. you're ashamed to admit you think about it sometimes, the way he chews through your mom's too-though steaks while pretending to listen to you chatter about your classes. his heavy fist flexes around his steak knife when his eyes inevitably flick down to your chest - like clockwork, every fifth mastication, chords of his neck flexing. he breaths heavy through his nose, half-hearted huffs when you say something funny, always a beat too late because he's not listening, but he shares a patronizing smile with your mother when she turns to see his reaction every time and she simpers, always delighted to have her little family all gathered 'round.

she's conveniently absent in all your little fantasies, nowhere to be found when you're biting your knuckle to suppress your gasps, teetering on the edge of another frustrating orgasm in your childhood bed. it's always the same, the release so baddirtywrong good it leaves you breathless and shaking, better than any drunken hookup or tenderhearted ex. but the drop when you realize what you've done (again) kills you every time, drops you down a ravine you struggle to find your way out of for days. you take it out on john, usually, snide comments and pissy frowns. he delights in it, annoyingly. sometimes, much to your horror, he even adopts his concerned father figure voice and asks what's on your mind, kiddo? anything i can do to help?

he knows.

maybe that's why you're a little louder one evening, your mother gone out for some girl's night paint and sip thing you'd avoided like the plague. john looks at you like he knows what you're after when you beg off, but he can't because it's not a thing yet, right? he certainly keeps to himself once you retire to your room, banging around downstairs in his own little corner of the house. so you're not chancing anything when you unmute your video, and there's no real harm when your muffled gasps start leaking past the knuckles pinched between your teeth, dribbles of spit and drool slicking your lips. you're close, fingers working furious circles over your clit when he enters, the tail end of the question he'd had for you leaving in a quiet huff when he registers the sight before him, the way his name sounds from your lips - different here, breathy as opposed to the whines he's used to you spouting off.

it's the last thing you need, his eyes on you. shock and embarrassment seem like distant concepts to you here, at that earthshattering peak you always stave off as long as possible, your pleasure pulled from the man you swear you hate. (your mother's man.)

john takes advantage of your comedown, that mindless period after you've wrung yourself out thinking of him when you're good for nothing but twitchiness and achy, empty whines. he shuts the door behind him, lock pin turning into place loud as a gunshot. it's still not enough to rouse your senses, not when his voice is so low and soothing, his hands so heavy where he drags his palms along your flank like a spooked horse.

"thought i heard you calling for me. you need help with something, sweetheart? need daddy to fix it?"

you're not even sure what you're agreeing to when you nod, chin wobbling because that terrible well of emotions you usually fall into after nights like this is looming. you cling to him like a lifeboat, fingers finding purchase on the band of bare skin at his forearms. his muscles flex in your grasp when he pulls you into his lap, the bunching of his tendons never hardening - barely even trying.

the way he holds you is achingly sweet, not at all the rough treatment you'd always envisioned. it hurts worse somehow, the tenderness feeling undeserved. he doesn't seem to notice your dilemma, or perhaps is better at recognizing it for what it is.

"not what you need, is it? c'mere, let me show you something. good trick for those nights when you're on your own," he winks, far too jovial and conspiratorial as he plucks your big stuffed bear from the foot of the bed and lets it flop pitifully on it's back in the middle of the bed. it's stupid thing, a dumb souvenir he got you when the three of you had last visited the zoo. you're too old for it and you were a complete shit about it when he buckled it into the seat next to you on the drive home, but that doesn't stop you from giving it a place of honor on the bed.

secretly, you'd even named it after him, but you weren't going to make a peep about that.

his palms linger when he guides you to straddle it, some hard grained reaction in you flicking a low simmer of annoyance on in your belly. logistically, you know you're both past that point now but old habits die hard, and revulsion has always been easier to process than -.

well.

"let's see you ride it, sweetheart. show daddy what you've learned off at uni."

"stop calling yourself that," you bite, but it's rendered toothless by the soft feeling of the bears fur against your sensitive clit and john only laughs at you.

"yeah? you wanna sing my name for me again instead?"

fuck it. you'd rather his hands on you anyway, anything but this embarrassing display. "you gonna make me?"

frustratingly as always, john doesn't rise to the bait. "wanna see if you can even get yourself off properly first."

"fuckin' -," you hiss, hips working harder against the yielding fabric. it's not enough, but you'll be damned if you ask him for help, not when you're still balanced precariously on the edge of that deep pool and he's not helping.

john just tuts, swats your ass lightly, like he does when you're in his way in the kitchen. "language."

he doesn't take pity until you're whining, tears of frustration and an unspoken neediness spilling from across your cheeks. he's behind you when he notices, watching your movements with his chin tucked over your shoulder and bull-like breaths spilling across your tight nipples. his face tilts toward yours, soft lips against your temple as he murmurs encouraging words when he tastes the salt on your skin and tilts your head to him with a big palm on your neck, fingers framing the hinge of your jaw. he inspects you a moment, tears shining like jewels in your lashes and the spacey look in your eyes he manages to catch before your gaze flits away. he tuts again, softer this time - aimed at himself.

"oh, honey. can't do it can you? that's okay, i'll help. what you wanted from the start, isn't it? was daddy being mean?" but he's not, not anymore, words more like kisses high on your cheek, palms heavy but gentle as he grips your hips, grinding you down harder against your stuffie. he cants your hips back, arches your spine. it pushes your puffy clit further into the soft fabric and you whine, chasing it with his guidance. when he pulls you back for every downstroke, you can feel the heft of his erection between your cheeks through his jeans.

he says he'll make it up to you, but he lies, his ministrations only serving to drive you more insane, your clit dragging uselessly until your back is arched so hard you've managed to bend yourself back up against him, your shoulders knocking against his broad chest. he's murmuring more nonsense as he licks your tears away but you're beyond listening, too lost in the rumble of his voice and the way it twines with your pathetic begging - his cock, his tongue, his hand, anything.

"you gotta say it first, baby."

you're beyond asking for clarification, but john doesn't seem to need it.

"gotta use your big girl words, ask daddy for help if you can't do it yourself."

"oh, fuck you," you hiss, tension in your spine snapping, letting you sag down to the bed.

john doesn't stop moving your hips, just sidles up closer behind you to rub your seam against the placket of his trousers. "only if you ask pretty. i hear you up here, panting and moaning when you think you're being quiet. think that's the best you can do, sweet pea? won't let me teach you better?"

he's smug when you look back over your shoulder at him, leaning over your with one fist planted on your bed. he looks just as fuzzy as your stuffie with his sleeves rolled up and his chest hair poking out at his throat. you know from watching him mow the lawn shirtless how it carpets his chest and belly, how the plush skin there tightens with hidden muscle when he rakes. you wonder if it would feel as good to ride his belly as it does your bear.

"see you looking," he rumbles after a moment. "you wanna touch me, baby? you can, just gotta say -."

"daddy." john's bushy eyebrow arcs expectantly.

"was that so hard?" his voice betrays how long he's waited to hear it, and despite yourself you cave.

lying, you tell yourself you'd put up more of a fight if you weren't already crying. "daddy, will you fuck me?"

"oh sweet girl," he coos, laying down over you and crushing you into the mattress, his arms folding under your chest to hold you close so he can shower your face in kisses. he's still fully clothed, buttons and flies digging into your skin. "that how those boys you've been with do it? gotta ask for my fingers first, sweetheart. here, i'll show you."

you roll with him when he does, wind up with your back pressed against his front as he spoons up behind you. his calluses catch on the sensitive skin of your thigh when he hooks it over your hip but you're too worried about how exposed you are to mind, your hand ducking to cover yourself futilely before he bats it away. he says he wants to see all of you while groping handfuls of every inch he can reach, wants to see how well he's been taking care of you.

that neediness in your chest pulses with your cunt and you can't help but whine, fresh tears collecting unbidden.

john gentles you with more kisses, sneaks a lick to the pads of his fingers between them. "okay," he soothes, "okay, sweet thing. quit fussin'. i'll help."

and he does, fingers at once gentle and strong as he works soft circles over your clit. you're soaked but he dips down to collect slick anyway, rubs it into your swollen flesh like medication. despite only cumming once, your skin feels overworked and sensitive and his free hand locks like a bar across your hips when you flinch away on instinct, holding you still so he can make you take it as he finally works you through your second orgasm, the crest of pleasure coming embarrassingly quick and leaving you a panting, sweaty mess in his arms, a litany of daddy's the only comprehensible thing you can manage because now that you've said it you can't stop because it's him, it's john.

patience finally (finally, after all these years of testing it) snapping, he doesn't give you much time to recover, his voice gravel-rough and saw hewn as he spouts praises, contrasting his sweet words with a thick, threatening finger at your entrance. you hiccup when he slides in, tears flowing freely down your cheeks because it's sogoodtoomuch and he zeroes in on the spot that has your very womb clenching in record time, two fingers buried so deep in your cunt you can feel his wedding ring when it slips past your lips. it takes you by surprise how good it feels but it shouldn't, not with john's voice in your ear muttering about the boys you've been with being too small and eager to find it.

"but that's okay, sweetheart. daddy's got you now, doesn't he? he'll show you. gotta teach you so no one takes advantage, don't i? show your worth. show you how a real man treats his princess, hm? and we'll have to talk about what a slag you've been later, sweetheart. just a little reminder you can always come to me if you want to try out so much stuff. daddy'll keep you safe."

#stepcest cw #incest cw #stepdad!price #price x reader #dddne #asks

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residenthughes · 10 months ago

Text

persuasion - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x fem reader

word count: 5.7k

tags/warnings: college/university au, fluff, slight angst?, fratboy! jack (he's sweet in this, dw), mentions of alcohol/drinking, no mention of y/n

summary: you get a bit more than you bargained for when paired up with all-american hockey star, jack hughes.

notes: hi. it's been a (long) while since i've posted on here. not to mention, i'm back writing about someone a bit different 😭 but i've recently gotten into the nhl and this fic is the result of me drunkenly coming across this photo a few days ago. despite the changes on this blog, i hope this post finds you well and that you enjoy this (poor) attempt of me getting back into writing. much love <3

The end of the semester couldn’t have come sooner. Swapped with what was possibly the busiest you’ve ever been, the sweet relief after submitting your last assignment was unparalleled and lulled you to a much deserved slumber, only to be awoken by a barrage of messages pinging from your bedside table. Disgruntled, your arm extends in search of your phone, groaning into your damp pillow as you blink away the tired film coating your eyes and read the messages from your best friend.

frat house party tonight, presence is mandatory!

all the girlies are onboard, your sexy ass better be ready by 9!

Another groan emits from you, exhaustion seeping through your bones at the mere mention of doing something else besides rotting in bed. You’re about to type some incoherent excuse, but your best friend beats you to it.

apparently, z and his guys are going.

chances are jack’s there too.

There’s a messy stutter in your chest upon reading the message and suddenly, you’re more awake than before as you gingerly sit yourself up in your bed. Of course, she’d mention he was going just to convince you further. You weren’t even aware she knew of your crush. Considering you hadn’t mentioned him much besides when asked, his name being referenced feels more intrusive than it should be. Then again, as perceptive as she is, there was no denying the fact.

Jack and yourself had worked on a group project earlier in the semester, which is how the two of you had crossed paths. Upon hearing of the task at hand, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh because you were never a fan of working with others you didn’t know, but considering none of your friends took your class, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to get to know others and build your social circle. When your assigned group had got together towards the end of the lecture to discuss formalities and such, you hadn’t expected the whirlwind that was to come in the presence of a sandy brunette haired boy.

Jack is as easy-going as he is charming. Cracks a couple jokes and suddenly, all the ice isolating your group dissolves to water and there are constant hums of conversation bouncing off every member of your group. He’s nice too, considerate of everyone’s schedule and what tasks they felt confident in completing, never uttering a word of complaint unless warranted. It’s interesting, he’s interesting, you think to yourself. Perhaps due to the fact that since he’d revealed himself to be in a frat, you had some preconceived notions as to what his personality would be like and maybe at times, he’d fit that stereotype to a tee, there were other times he’d stray away from it completely and leave you curious as ever.

Peculiar is what you’d describe those few weeks to be, your interest gravitating towards any relation to Jack. Heart beating as you walked past your university’s ice arena, knowing he practically lived on the ice beyond his time in class. Eyes lighting up when he texted in the group chat, mental fuzziness plaguing you every time you sat across from one another as you completed your portion of work in the university’s library. You’d be a fool to dismiss the budding attraction you felt towards him, spinning your world round but also leaving you feeling so unsure of everything, yourself included. There’s no scarcity of girls who like him, it proved to be difficult resisting the All-American hockey star with looks to match. However, taking into account the sheer volume of attention directed his way everyday, your lingering glances didn’t seem to be much more significant. So, one-sided this crush remains to you, storing away the quiet memories of shared laughs and time spent together in a place close to your heart.

That was until he invited you to his game, shortly after your project had been submitted for assessment. You wanted to go, you wanted to go so badly that you agonised over the decision for longer than necessary, but ultimately, as you laid awake that night, eyes blazing red with fatigue, doom scrolling to further delay your dreams, the evidence for your answer surfaced. It was nothing but a silly Instagram post from one of his friends, Trevor Zegras, the boyfriend to one of your friends. A collection of typical photos: the boys, hockey and more of the antics they got to. It’s in the last slide where in the background of a recent football game is none other than Jack, in all his handsome glory, grinning ear to ear as a girl envelopes him in a hug that feels too intimate to be seen. Embarrassment runs your skin hot and jealousy leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, the thought of you entertaining anything more than platonic with Jack a pipedream at best. Naturally, there can be so many explanations for the photo, but what rings true is that you’ve made yourself vulnerable to heartbreak, which is nowhere to be found on your agenda. So, you call it a night, turning off your phone and hoping to put the crush behind you come tomorrow.

And, it works for a bit. Jack doesn’t text you further and you don’t run into him on campus. Summer soon approaches and the last few days before your break have you buzzing with excitement for all the plans you have lined up. Your world doesn’t hinge on every interaction you have with Jack and your mind is freed from the shackles of mulling over every detail in said interaction. It’s liberating and you’d like to keep it that way. A fleeting crush, you reason, all said and done with. A mantra you repeat to yourself as you respond back to your best friend, gleaming as you and your group chat discuss outfits options and pinterest inspired makeup looks.

There’s nothing better than being with your girls, you’re reminded, as the buzzing excitement never fizzles as the night stretches on. Controlled chaos dominates the night as you pack into one friend’s rooms to get ready together, helping each other with eyelash extensions and annoying back zippers. Someone makes the suggestion to drop by the campus bar for a drink or two, just to ease the nerves, and it turns out to be a great idea because by the time you stumble out of the bar and towards the frat house, the party’s in full swing.

Trashed lawn and red cup galore, the music somehow manages to reach outside the house with hoards of people dotted around and inside the house. With the merry buzz you’ve got from the bar, confidence details your movements as you lead your friends with clasped hands into the packed house, mumbling a thousand ‘sorry’s as you trample on through the crowded hallways to find yourselves in one (?) of the living rooms.

Hands suddenly grasp at yours and you’re thrown into a fit of giggles as your friends tangle themselves up in a messy but fun dance. You follow suit, fully relishing in the euphoria of the night and the found family you have in these girls as you dance and chatter until you have no choice to venture into the kitchen for a refreshment.

Surprisingly, the kitchen is vacant as you push through towards its door you were directed to, scanning the room amongst belongings to find some mixer for your helping of vodka stashed away in your purse. Despite your better judgement, you resort to apprehensively searching through cupboards on your tippy toes in search for mixer and as you’re about to open the last cupboard, the kitchen door opens.

“Looking for something?”

Goosebumps arise and your heart stills. You know that voice like the back of your hand, the same voice that echoes in the back of your mind and whispers sweet nothings in your ear when you dream. The fact that he’s so ingrained in your memory makes you curse at yourself, teeth gnawing on the plumpiness of your bottom lip as you attempt to recollect your racing thoughts. With a quiet breath, you sink back from your elevated posture and turn towards the source of the voice, blinking like a deer caught in the headlights.

It’s comical how such a simple sight renders you a loss for words. In the doorway of the large kitchen stands Jack, shoulder and head leaning against the doorframe as he looks at you with an expectant look and a cheeky grin to match. His legs are crossed at the ankles and he’s holding a beer, but he’s got this pearl white long sleeved polo on with washed out jeans and a black snapback to top it all off. The outfit in itself is so simple and yet, here you are, heart being sent into overdrive as the effortless combo drives you wild. Sets your skin alight and conjures up electricity that pulses through you like wildfire.

“Lemonade,” you gracefully croak out, gesturing towards your empty red cup. “I didn’t bring much to mix my drink with.”

“Here, I’ll help you with that,” he reassures you, bouncing off the door frame as he draws closer to you, your feet absently shifting a few steps backwards. “No need to back up. I don’t bite, you know?”

You huff at the comment, realising how foolish his mere presence makes you and will yourself to relax, shoulders easing down from your ears as you watch Jack search through the cupboards. It doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for, pulling out a large bottle of lemonade that coasts against the marble of the countertop.

“Feel free to use as much as you like, I never usually have this myself anyways.” insists Jack, turning himself around with his back against the countertop, arms crossed his chest with a peering eye directed to you.

“How thoughtful of you.” you jester as a brief chuckle is shared between the two of you, the loud thumps of heavy bass music sounding from beyond the kitchen door as silence settles between the two of you.

“It’s been a while, how’ve you been?” he asks, undivided attention focused on you as you pour the last of the lemonade. If not for the embarrassment of spilling your drink in front of him, the unsolicited awareness he’s currently given you would have resulted in exactly that, so you stop yourself and give him a convincing smile.

“I’ve been good, thanks. It’s the end of the academic year, I have no more complaints,” you muse, bringing the cup to your lips as you peer over the rim to look at Jack, his long lashes fluttering as his focus remains you. Your heartbeat picks up its pace. “What about you? Frozen four’s a big deal, but winning the championship is even bigger.”

Jack gives a lighthearted laugh, smugness adjusting his posture as his shoulders move back and his chest puffs out. Meanwhile, he gives this half shrug and grin that has heat gravitating towards the apples of your cheeks. It’s one of the things you like about Jack, how confident and sure of himself he is without it being overbearing and unappealing. It feels assuring, not having to dim your own light for the sake of his own comfort.

“Yeah, that was nuts, I can’t lie. We had a really good run and I think our efforts really showed for themselves in that case,” Jack responds, taking a swig of his beer. “Christ, I sound like I’m talking to the media or something.”

“Well, consider this practice for when you join Jersey in the future,” you simper, snickering as you take a sip of your own drink. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of fun speaking to the media.”

He gives an eyeroll, amusement prominent in the way his eyes twinkle and you can't help but laugh more. “So you say. How did you even know about Jersey?”

Your laugh is cut short, ice cold realisation washing over you like a bad hangover as his words hang in the air like a gauntlet waiting for its descent. Of course, this was nothing to be caught off-guard by considering how much your university boasts about how Jack, amongst other talented players, were drafted before committing to your university. However, the painful memory of you awake one late night doesn’t escape you, said night spent hesitantly typing his name into Google to come across all the info you knew to confirm how great of a hockey player he was. You feel shameful even looking him in the eyes right now.

So, your eyes stray from him, the somewhat sticky floor being the source of all your interest. “Who doesn’t know? Our uni does a good job of reminding us of everyone that’s been drafted.”

You decide to spare a glance at Jack, taking in how a pinkish hue decorates the surface of his cheeks as his lone hand goes to scratch the back of his neck. The timidity that clouds his movement evokes a simper out of you, one that you direct into your cup, its contents rapidly draining under the weight of your continued conversation.

“Oh, man. Maybe, I shouldn’t have asked that,” he jokes, smile all pearly white and heart fluttering. “Can’t blame a guy for being nervous, no?”

“Nerv-”

Suddenly, the kitchen door bursts open and a flood of drunken students come barrelling in, hollering as their drinks splash to the floor and chaos ensues. You’re just as confused at their unexpected appearance as you are at the comment Jack made, but before you have a chance to ponder further, a warm hand settles against the small of your back followed by the gentle waft of Jack’s aftershave, a mixture sea salt with a hint of lavender and spicy nutmeg. It takes everything in you for your knees not to buckle.

“Let’s head out back.” he whispers, breath fanning over your neck as his fingertips ignite fire against your skin.

Abruptly, you clear your throat, mindlessly nodding along as you blindly follow him out back, Jack’s larger build serving as a shield of sorts as he seamlessly navigates his way through the hordes of students. He does so with your hand in his and as much as your internal monologue unleashes panicked squeals at the contact, you revel in his touch - calloused hands that hold yours like porcelain, warm hands that match together like the universe and all its stars.

A cool breeze blankets your skin and your focus shifts from your inner thoughts, taking in the generous and lush green outdoor space with sparse camping chairs circling a bonfire and a large tree further up ahead draped in fairy lights. There’s some people here too, but the atmosphere is a 180 from the mayhem inside, hushed light-hearted conversations exchanged beside the lit bonfire with the faint smell of weed filtering through the crisp air. The dazzling fairy lights blind you into bumping into Jack’s back, apologising with a laugh before he collapses onto the daisy white hammock before you.

You follow suit with the carefree attitude Jack gives you, but you miscalculate horrendously because you don’t fall into the place beside your crush, but into his lap. Shock runs through your veins like ice as your bewilderment freezes you in place, mouth gaping open as you turn to face Jack in absolute horror. He seems to fare better with the unexpected contact, enlarged azure eyes showing his awe and yet his hands are in all the right places - supporting your waist as your weightless body struggles to hold its own.

“I’m-“ the hairs on your neck are standing and you’re close to crying, the heat of your mortification burning your body hot like a furnace. “-so sorry. I didn’t-I didn’t even-“

“Relax, you’re good,” the chill of his beer against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, the feeling intensifying by the thousands as Jack’s thumb gives your exposed skin the smallest caress. You’re sure you’re the personification of shock at how every inch of your features displays pure alarm. “Unless this was your plan?”

You’re shoving him before your brain is able to comprehend its commands, your flustered state leaping out of his lap and collapsing back alongside him this time, hands clasped over your eyes as you take the time to maybe calm down. “What frat house even has a hammock anyways?”

“Rachel - Z’s girl - thought it’d be a nice touch for the garden,” you hear Jack mumble, but you’re too busy nursing your ego to fully immerse in conversation. “You’re friends with her, right? You guys came in together.”

“Keeping an eye out for me, Hughes?”

Apparently, your ego isn’t as bruised to make such a comment, a smirk finding itself onto the surface of your face as you’ve yet to remove your hand from your vision.

“It’s hard to keep my eyes off you.”

You freeze in place, the heaviness in your stomach incomparable with the hammering of your heart against your chest as your brain picks apart Jack’s comment at the speed of light. None of the comments Jack has made throughout your entire conversation have gone over your head, the flirty undertones as clear as day. He wasn’t as up front with his compliments when you two first started working together, the furthest compliment he’d given denoting how nice you looked despite rolling out of bed twenty minutes beforehand. His directness makes your eyebrows furrow, or rather his intentions have you looking around as if you could find some answers. Perhaps this is how Jack is at parties - all pleasant with a careful flirtation that gradually pulls you inwards. Or maybe, this simply is the case of him showing his interest in you. The concept is not lost on you, but there is still apprehension that manifests within you, for reasons you are yet to discover.

You’re about to say something, your parted lips issuing a single incoherent syllable that dissolves on your tongue when the faint murmur of country music from a group of guys up ahead takes your notice, Jack’s nose scrunching with delight as he exclaims, “Ah, what a banger.”

Your eyebrow quirks upwards, merriment spreading against your features. “I never pegged you as the country type.”

“Well, I’m not a Drake guy, I’ll tell you that much.” Jack shifts in his seat, extending his arm out behind your back.

“So, a belieber then?” you jester, taunting eyebrows raised as you can’t keep your snicker to yourself when you watch Jack roll his eyes with the same grin.

“If that makes you happy, then yeah,” Jack reasons nonchalantly, whereas you make a pathetic attempt at stopping the stammer in your chest. “But no, that’s pretty much all that plays when my brothers and I wakesurf in the summer, unless Z is on the aux. Then, he and Quinn have a go at each other for it.”

Chuckles emit from your lips as you picture the image of a sunny summer day out on a boat, Jack’s older brother, Quinn, and Trevor becoming enemies of silence as they bicker over music choices. A warm fuzziness embraces you, the image placing you right beside Jack as laughter bubbles between the two of you whilst Luke wakesurfs in the background. It’s a honeyed depiction, all rose-tinted and for you to hold close to your heart along with other fantasies you allow yourself to entertain.

“We’re planning on going back to our summer house upstate where we do loads of other stuff,” Jack trails off, his fingers tapping against the glass of his bottle as you two share a look between each other. His eyes flicker downwards almost immediately, the top of his ears crimsoning. “You should stop by sometime. It’d be good to see you over the summer.”

For someone as confident as Jack, these rare glimpses of timidity demonstrate themselves as a pure anomaly. So, you can imagine your surprise at not only his incredibly generous offer but also his sheepish demeanour; gaze never aligning with yours as you feel his fingers fiddle with the material of the hammock behind your back. The sight enamours you, a rush of endearment washing over you as you lean into the feeling, not bothering to hide the wide smile growing across the expanse of your face.

If this is what awaits you at their summer house, you’re already packed and ready to go.

“I could be persuaded.” Jack’s already rolling his eyes and against his better judgement, he finds himself chuckling with you too.

When your amusement blends into the night sky, Jack's eyelids fall halfway, gaze steady as he mirrors your prior smirk that’s all but gone with the quiet wind. “And, what would that involve?”

A moment is shared between the two of you. Burning bright like a star and erupting fireworks in your fingertips as your eyes linger on one another longer than explanatory. The landscape of his dotted moles capture your attention first, your sight leading itself to the galaxy-like twinkle dazzling in the ocean blue of his eyes. It’s so precious, this point in time - so delicate and intimate that it feels like a secret, whispers of infatuation pulling you together by their invisible strings as Jack’s extended arm circles your shoulders. You lean in, the temptation of his lips calling your name. Earlier restlessness ceases to exist as your movements read as second nature, the bruising of your chest accompanying the fuzziness that dances in your stomach as Jack leans into too.

“Yo, Jack!”

The moment is all but gone, burst like a bubble as both your heads turn in the direction of the voice, spying one of Jack’s friends, Cole, standing on the porch with a hand clasped around his mouth.

“Get your ass in here, we’re playing Jenga!”

A string of unpleasantries filter through Jack’s mouth in the form of a murmur, remnants of your interrupted kiss lingering as Jack gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and gives you the most apologetic look you’ve ever seen. Puppy eyes and pouty lips, an image you lock away in your heart forever.

“Did you wanna head in?” He gives you the choice, head tilted to the side as he studies your expression whilst you ponder the inquiry.

The almost kiss is something to behold and if this has occurred weeks prior amidst the intensity of your crush, you would have begged and pleaded to stay, hinging on the hopes of whatever this is being fabricated once again to fulfil your fondness dreams. But, this feels different. It feels sold, as opposed to balancing upon shaky possibilities. This is undeniable, a point in time that is infinite and kissed upon by destiny. A junction you can return to time and time again.

“Yeah, I’m sure my friends are looking for me anyways,” you unravel yourself from Jack’s loose grip, hoisting yourself up before you turn to face him with a soft beam. His expression reads unsure, gaze scattered before he looks upwards before your sneakers knock against his impossibly white Air Forces. You nod towards the house, the giddiness building within you exceptional as your hand extends out to meet his. “Let’s head in together?”

It comes out more of a question than a statement, but you could care less when Jack gives you that soft smile that’s only reserved for you, grabbing a hold of your hand after he brings himself off the hammock before you proceed to return back to the party.

The bustling atmosphere appears to have maintained itself in your absence, hundreds of conversations mixing in with the booming sounds of some bass heavy hip hop song. You nod your head to the beat, grinning when you see familiar faces in the crowd as you trail behind Jack yet again, following him in promise of your friends who Cole had mentioned joined their group’s game of Jenga. You make do with getting down the stairs of the basement without tumbling due to their frigid nature, face instantly lighting up as you catch sight of your friends, collapsing into a fit of excited hugs and shared giggles as you all catch up on the events of the party.

Amidst all the dialogue, some of which you’re assuming Jack’s sorority brothers and friends make quick work of getting the bare room ready, arranging beers for everyone as the box of Jenga is brought out. The weight of concentrated eyes seers into your goosebump-riddled skin and by the time you volunteer to assemble the Jenga tower, you’re more than aware of Jack’s attention on you. Even with how overflowing the confidence you possessed was as you left the back garden, the heat of his gaze reduces you to a sheepish mess, antsy hands uncertain of their movements as you attempt to achieve some standard of normalcy, your eyes avoiding his. It’s when your hands accidentally touch that you cannot avoid it much longer, peering through clumpy eyelashes with a flush that feels as vivid as painted glass.

A lone corner of his lips inclines, his look of allurement tangled with blatant attraction enough to make you knock over some of the Jenga pieces. A deep chorus of disapproving sounds holler at your actions, your sheepishness fended off by the laughter amongst you and Jack as you continue to assemble the tower again, this serving as the last of your communication before the Jenga game commences.

Every Jenga piece taken out of the tower involves a dare that has laughter erupting from the pits of your stomach or mouth gaping open at the gull others possess whilst intoxicated. With the muffled sounds of the music upstairs and endless talk in the room, merriment captures your heart in a gentle squeeze as the dares carry on, the harmless fun quickly becoming one of your favourite memories in recent times.

It’s your turn to go and the frat guys are already teasing you with endearing nicknames, putting a smile on your face as your hands steady to pull out a tricky Jenga piece with ease. Wooden block in hand, your line of vision skims the chicken scratch of a dare with an effortless glee that’s swiftly replaced with plentiful surprise.

“What does it say?!’ exclaims Trevor, the anticipation in his voice evident as he squeals his words.

You’re reducing to your meek self again, not daring to look upwards as you enunciate your words to aid your own comprehension. “Spend seven minutes in heaven with the player across from you.”

You’re unsure whether the universe has some really good jokes up their sleeve or this is just fate to begin with because when you lift your head up, already knowing, Jack’s amused facial expression speaks for itself.

Hollers and cheers fill the room, enough pandemonium to make you crimson as you stumble to your feet, casting a peek at your best friend with a cross between disbelief and delight. Your best friend, the same one that texted you about Jack’s presence at the party tonight, bawls her hand into a tight fist, bringing it to her chest as a sign of victory with mischief painted all over her. The ridiculousness of this farce eliminates you from ruminating about what awaits you in the closet a mere metres away. The guy most pleased with the situation opens the closet door, a few brooms pushed back into the compact space that is surprisingly clean with no cobwebs or dust in sight.

“All clean and ready for you two lovebirds,” Trevor grins with the keenness of a kid in a candy store, pushing back his long locks of hair as he sends a wink your way. “Don’t get too carried away in there, you’ve only got seven minutes.”

Jack says something in reply to Trevor’s cheeky comment but you’re too preoccupied by your own thoughts, feet carrying you to the fate of your Jenga dare as the door closes and darkness shrouds you.

It’s silent for a minute, nothing but soft breaths and dulled whispers from outside the closet door. The closet is dangerously compact, your back up against the wall not sparing you from establishing your own personal space, the slightest shift of your shoes inevitably going to knock against Jack’s. Outside in the back garden feels so far away now, slipping through your hands as if sand with the daunting weight of unsaid expectations folding your arms and clearing a stubborn croak in your throat.

As the seconds tick on and no communication is shared, the everlasting laps you round around your mind exhaust you for the last time and you decide to face whatever this is head on, a start being making eye contact with the man that makes it the hardest thing in the world. However, with the tiniest sliver of dimmed light peaking through underneath the closet door, you can see him. Jack, in all his glory - soft and boyish, all charming in nature. The round pool blue of his eyes and the moles that dot his skin like constellations. It’s a rush of emotions, all raw and bare, to overwhelm and comfort you, with the easiness of his smile that directs your way and warms your heart like no other.

“We don’t have to do anything in here, I’d never do anything to make you uncomfortable,” Jack explains, his hand reaching to drag down one side of his face as his eyes cast away. “I hope you know that.”

This - you feel resolute in - establishing some sense of security in this room as you smile up at Jack. “The thought didn’t even cross my mind.”

There’s a double meaning in your words and you don’t bother to correct yourself, reading in between the lines cementing itself as your favourite pastime. But, Jack knows and so do you. Perhaps you knew all along that every nook and cranny in your heart was specially reserved for Jack and no other could do. Maybe, you spent so much time in your head because this unexplored territory felt like the birth of the universe, so big and beautiful that it had more questions than answers. A forbidden fruit of sorts - a sweet mirage that the more you pulled away, gravity pulled you right back. A place where you belonged - with him in this moment forever sealed between the two of you.

Jack offers a smile in the wake of your thoughts, timid yet teasing in nature and you can’t resist, in the almost dark of the closet, grin too because this was sealed from the very beginning. Alone with infamous fratboy Jack Hughes, under some sort of awkward pretence bringing you together because you let your fears get the best of you, a stark contrast to what they are now - engulfed in thoughts, feelings of your lips against his and how this charade will come to a close, the building tension boiling till it overflows

“Hey-” you both say at the same time, silencing as you chuckle at the unison you unite in.

“Ladies first.”

“I’m more interested in what you have to say.”

Because there’s no doubt in your mind he’ll steal the words right out of your mouth, the mere thought of those words escaping his lips the centre of all your desires.

He pauses, eyes searching yours for confirmation which presents itself in the toothy grin he struggles not to reflect, canine sinking into the corner of his lips before he responds, “If you insist.”

Jack doesn’t miss a beat as he reaches for your hand, absently tracing patterns into the skin with a thoughtful hum that proceeds his words.

“I think I’ve been a lot more straightforward with how I feel about you, but I’d like to chance to tell you right here that I’m interested in you, in being with you. To the point that the boys get sick of me yapping about it,” you chuckle at his comment, the humour of the joke distracting you from the flood of emotions that submerges you indefinitely. “I felt this way from the time we got assigned to work together. And, if maybe you had any reservations about us, I’d do whatever it takes so that they don’t exist because you’re what matters most and that will never change.”

No feeling can compare to this. It’s almost as if you’re experiencing the full spectrum of emotions for the first time, rejoicing in the sunshine Jack basks upon you in the wake of his confession. A mirage turned reality, the colours are bright and blinding and you’re so elated within yourself that you physically cannot do more than bring Jack’s hand to your cheek to kiss his palm. A confirmation that needs no words.

The warmth of his hand against your cheek melts you into his skin, eyelids falling shut as you revel in the tender caresses of his thumb, of his love and the unspoken words between you. A graze against your throat has your eyes fluttering open, lips parted as Jack secures his hand gently against the nape of your neck. A soft inhale escapes you as his thumb traces the corner of your mouth, dilated pupils flickering between your own and your lips.

“Can I-”

“Yes, please.”

A star is born at the centre of your lips as they fold over one another, blending seamlessly together as you move together in synchronised harmony. You taste the remnants of beer, inhale his musky cologne and send yourself flying into another universe as Jack holds you close for impact. All your brain knows to do is convey your sentiment tenfold, kissing him as if touch starved as your fingers thread through the curls of his hair. You commit this to memory - the slowness of the kiss, the scent of his apple shampoo and his curls around your fingers, the feathery feeling of your fluttering heart and the tenderness of your hearts beating as one. So sickeningly besotted with another that everything pales in comparison.

Reluctantly, you pull away from his soft lips when the shared oxygen between you two vanishes, eyes slow to open but ultimately capturing the part of Jack’s rouge lips that quiver in your wake, his gaze meeting yours moments later.

You kiss him again for good measure.

“Alright, horny bastards. Time’s up!” Cole’s voice thunders from beyond the door.

Lips still pressed against Jack’s, you both smile into one last kiss, just as sweet as the last. Jack savours it for what it’s worth, forehead pressed against yours as you two stand together, bruised chests aching with all the yearning that can fit into your palms.

“Consider me persuaded.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #nhl #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #hockey #jack hughes fic #nhl fanfiction #jack hughes one shot #residenthughes

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littlereaderxfandoms · 10 months ago

Text

Weekend Gone Wrong

caregiver!hotch x caregiver!spencer x caregiver!derek x little!fem!reader + little friends

Summary: This weekend has been in the making for two weeks. Two weeks of no regression and constant stress. Hopefully, nothing goes wrong.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort (?)

Length: 3.1k words

You shut your laptop with a sigh, exhausted, when you see a text from Derek that they were leaving the office. The last two weeks have been bad for you mentally, physically and emotionally. The guys haven’t had a chance to be home in the last almost three weeks due to back-to-back cases, you found out that your parents couldn’t pay for your university anymore because of which you have picked up more shifts and started another job while the guys were working and one of the courses you are taking this semester is kicking your butt. With the whirlwind that it has been over the last few weeks, you and the guys had decided to have this weekend off for everyone so all of you can catch up, relax and especially indulge in some much-needed little-caregiver time.

You were really looking forward to this and couldn’t wait for the guys to get home. Unfortunately, you still did have a little bit of waiting to do as they drove home. You decide to heat up the food you made for everyone, having had decided to wait for them to eat dinner together. Although, you didn’t think it would be past midnight by the time they got home. You didn’t mind though, since you hadn’t really realized the time anyway as you worked on some assignments. You also got yourself a glass of water, knowing the guys would inquire about water and food and quite frankly, you had not done a very good job in either department about looking after yourself.

You can’t help but smile as soon as you hear the door open, resisting your urge to run to them and jumping up and down like a kid in a candy store. But even if you did it, it was justified because this was better than a whole candy store. Okay, maybe not a whole candy store but definitely a trip to the candy store.

“Hey, princess.” Derek grinned as he pulled you into a hug after dropping his bag by the door, but you could see how tired he was as you hugged him.

“Darling…” Aaron pulled you out from Derek’s arms and into his, squeezing you tight before you pulled away and hugged Spencer, knowing he wouldn’t have spoken up.

“How was the trip back home? I have dinner heated up, we can eat and talk?” You say, turning around in Spencer’s arms.

“You,” Spencer kisses your cheek as Derek and Aaron smile at you before starting to move to the kitchen, “are the most amazing, beautiful, and caring girlfriend ever. I can’t believe we got this lucky.”

You giggle as you pull away from him, pulling him to the kitchen where the other two are already setting up and getting the food plated. “You’re only saying that because I’m feeding you.”

“Never!” All three chirp in, making everyone laugh.

Everyone stands around the kitchen counter, eating your home-cooked lasagna as you talked about anything and everything with each other, forgetting how tiring the last few weeks had been.

Well, that is until Derek’s phone rings, breaking the trance. Derek goes out to answer it, letting the three of you be.

“Hey guys,” Derek comes in, looking a little serious as he came back in after a few minutes, “it was Ace.”

You can see everyone turning serious at that, including yourself. Ace is one of the littles in your local community as somewhat of a friend. He is in a relationship with a caregiver, Jason, and another little, Jenny. The four of you have never liked Jason and have warned Ace and Jenny about the same but the two of them said that they loved Jason and were not willing to discuss it with any of you. That had drawn a drift between the friendship but you had made it clear that if they ever needed any of you, you were just a call away.

“What happened?” Aaron is the first to ask.

“Apparently, things have been going bad and they need to get out. Jenny is involuntarily regressing and Ace has been struggling. They need a place for a few days.”

“They are more than welcome here, they know that,” Spencer says, making Aaron nod in agreement.

“I just wanted to ask everyone if they are okay with this before I tell them that they can come over,” Derek said, looking at you for final approval.

“Of course, they can stay with us! They are our friends!” You speak up, not really thinking about what it would mean for the weekend you had planned.

A few hours later, a regressed Jenny was sleeping on your couch while Ace, you, and the guys went over how to best help the two. It was decided that it would be a regressed weekend for all three of us as Ace had been struggling a lot too.

You were none too happy about it as it meant that you would basically be having a little sleepover, something you have never done before.

After figuring out where everyone would be sleeping, Ace and you were sent to bed while the guys cleaned up and put Jenny to bed. You tried to wait up a little to see if one of the guys would come with you to kiss you goodnight but only got hugs and a nudge to get to bed, just like Ace. Thankfully, the exhaustion from your long shifts at your jobs helped put you to sleep almost immediately, reminding you that you needed to tell the guys that you had gotten a second job at some point.

The next morning was… horrible to say the least. You woke up with a migraine, probably a result of your lack of self-care over the last few weeks. Jenny seemed to be in baby space and kept crying loudly unless one of your caregivers was holding her. Ace was… like a way too energetic toddler, to put it nicely as he threw tantrum after tantrum, broke a bowl because it wasn’t the one he chose as it was your favorite, and wouldn’t eat anything the guys made until after they had made it.

All you wanted to do was stay in bed after realizing what the situation was downstairs. Unfortunately for you, the guys never allowed you to stay in bed past nine without a good reason. And with how annoyed, tired, and frustrated they were, you almost felt bad for Derek as he came into your room and almost yelled at you to get out of bed, not waiting to hear what you had to say as he was called back downstairs.

This weekend was supposed to be peaceful and relaxing for everyone and so far, it had been anything but. And it didn’t get any better as the day progressed. The guys were preoccupied with Ace and Jenny while you kept to yourself, studying in your room, after getting an unfair timeout because you didn’t want to give Ace your favorite stuffed bear after the way he had been so playing badly with your other toys. Yeah, being little was out of the question after that.

You knew that the guys were trying their best here and that Ace and Jenny deserved this regression time as much as you if not more but you couldn’t help but feel hurt and neglected. You were trying your best to be nice and welcoming but it was hard for you too and it felt like that wasn’t being acknowledged either. After the disastrous day, you hoped that tomorrow would be better as the guys came into the room to kiss you goodnight and read you a bedtime story with an apology about not being able to spend enough time with you like you had been planning.

“Plans don’t always work out. It’s okay.” You shrugged with a smile.

“You are way too understanding princess.” Aaron kissed your forehead again.

“Did you get any little relaxation time at all today?” Derek asked, making you shrug again, not wanting to make them feel bad.

“Had a lot of studying to do.” You bury your face in Aaron’s chest so you don’t have to look at them. “But I’m tired now. I’m sure you guys are too. Sleep?”

The guys murmured their agreement as the four of you went to bed for the night, Derek and Spencer giving you a few more kisses before letting you get to sleep with Aaron.

The next day did not turn out good either. You were out of groceries and the guys had decided that everyone would go to the supermarket together when you offered to be big and go get them. Clearly, they didn’t like the idea even remotely. But the disaster at the supermarket definitely made them regret their decision.

Ace was running around constantly while Jenny insisted that she wanted to be holding hands with two of the guys. You were doing pretty good and you could see how grateful the guys were for it as you helped them without a ruckus. However, the manager, who was also your manager after you started working there a couple weeks ago recognized you and was all too happy to chat with you, making the guys shoot you questioning looks. Then, as you used the employee discount during checkout, Aaron finally spoke up about it.

“Since when do you work here?” Aaron asked as he put the groceries in the bag while the others got ice cream from the truck outside. “You didn’t tell us you changed your job.”

“Um… yeah… We really need to talk ab-“ You were cut off when you heard a commotion outside, seeing Derek and Spencer trying to get Ace and a crying Jenny away from Jason.

“Shit.” Aaron quickly picked up the bags before starting to make his way out after making sure that you followed him.

Everyone quickly piled up in the car, getting on our way back home. The guys checked on Ace and Jenny before everyone fell silent. After sorting out the groceries at home, Ace, Jenny, and the guys talked in their office while I cooked dinner for everyone, wanting to get a distraction.

As everyone settled down for dinner, it was announced that Ace and Jenny were going to move in with Jenny’s parents for now and that it was their last night there. You also realized that the day was coming to an end… along with the weekend. Tomorrow, you would be getting back to work and classes while the guys would be going back to work too.

While you were glad to have been there for your friends, it hurt that the chance you had gotten to relax after weeks of loneliness and stress was gone, just like that. And that night, as the others decided to have a movie night per Jenny’s request, you left and cried yourself to sleep.

Waking up to an empty bed the next day didn’t help how you felt about the weekend as you got ready to leave for work, catching a glimpse of the others asleep in the living room as you left.

The next few days were a blur of you barely being home and the guys hounding you to try and talk to you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to them but you just didn’t have time anymore. You were quite literally spending the nights at the library as you stressed over the approaching midterms, you weren’t looking after your health, you were managing events for three different societies on campus and everything was just too much. It felt like there wasn’t enough time in the day to get everything done.

You weren't sure if it was a good thing that whenever you were home, the guys weren’t. You were somewhat grateful, not wanting to confront them. But at the same time, you were feeling lonely and guilty for not being there for the guys.

It wasn’t long before the guys put there foot down.

As you entered the home on Friday evening, if the chatter was anything to go by, you could tell they were all home. At 2 pm. Mhm-mhm. This was not good.

“In here!” You heard Derek yell out, making it certain that there was no running away from this.

You take your time, putting your things away before going to the kitchen where the guys were standing around the counter, snacking on some chips and popcorn.

“Hey darling.” Aaron gave you a side hug, kissing your forehead. “We need to talk.”

“Let me give her a hug first!” Derek exclaimed before coming to you and pulling you into a bear hug, making your eyes water. You didn’t realize how touch starved you were until now. You hugged him back tighter, trying to keep your tears at bay.

“Oh baby.” Derek hugs you tighter when he feels your tears wetting his shirt as you bury your face in his chest.

“Is she okay?” You hear Spencer whisper, before you pull away and nod, going to stand by him and giving him a side hug.

“I’m okay, just tired. And missed you guys.” You mumble as Spencer pulls you into a proper hug.

“Turn her around Spence.” You hear Aaron instruct Spencer as he turns you around in his arms while still hugging you from behind.

“Before we start this discussion, we need you to know that we love you and this is not about us breaking up with you so don’t even let your brain go there.” Aaron gave you a look, knowing you would go to the worst-case scenario first. You nodded before speaking up, “I love you guys.”

Spencer kissed you head while Derek and Aaron gave you a smile.

“Honey, you have been pushing us away lately.” Aaron started with a sad smile.

“And you are almost never home.” Derek adds pointedly.

“Yeah… about that… I kind of took up a second job…” You cringe a little as they give you a look.

“And you are telling us that now? When did you start?” Derek asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Why did you even get another job to begin with?” Spencer asks and you can hear the confusion in his voice.

You sigh as you start to explain. “My parents won’t be paying for my university anymore. They have given me access to the loan but I want to try and not use much from it.”

“You should have told us princess.” Aaron looks at you with a softened expression.

“You know we can help right?” Spencer speaks up.

“We earn more than we need anyway. We can help you pay for university.” Derek adds.

“But I don’t want you to do that. You guys already let me live here rent free.” You protest.

“I own the house, of course I’m not going to let you pay rent.” Derek shakes his head.

“Yeah but still! I don’t want to make you pay for my university too!” You protest.

“Because you feel like you owe us?” Aaron asks softly, making you look down. You don’t want to hurt them but if something were to happen in the future, you didn’t want to feel like you owed them. And university wasn’t cheap.

“What if you earn it?” Spencer asks.

“What do you mean?” You tilt you head back to look up before Spencer pulls away and turns to around again so you can look at him easily.

“Well, you look after the house when we aren’t home which takes away the burden of getting a house sitter. You keep everything clean while we are gone too and help us with chores during other times. This way, we will be paying for the chores and house sitting you are doing for us.” Spencer explains while everyone listens intently, Aaron and Derek nodding along.

“That’s actually a good idea. We can even come up with a pay rate for it. And if we come back from somewhere and the house isn’t clean, then we can deduct from that pay.” Derek adds.

“I agree. Does that sound fair to you darling?” Aaron speaks up as you lean on the counter, biting your lip as you contemplate.

“I mean… yeah I guess that sounds fair. But I still don’t love it.” You bite your lip nervously before Spencer pulls it out, kissing you cheek softly.

“You can still keep doing one of your jobs. We just don’t want you to overwork yourself sweetheart.” Aaron gives you a soft smile, making you smile at them.

“Gosh, how did I get so lucky with you guys.” You think out loud.

“I think it might have a lot to do with your word vomit during your field trip at the bureau.” Spencer teases, making you blush as you are reminded of the first time you met.

“Okay, now that that is cleared up, you need to regress.” Derek says with a somewhat stern look.

“I need to email my manager and hand in my two week notice first. And I have a meeting with my drama society execs tonight. So… I don’t think today is a good idea.” You explain.

“Well, get the email to your manager done. After that, you are eating a snack and then taking a nap before your meeting.” Aaron directs you, making you smile at the instructions.

“After that, the rest of the weekend is ours and you are not getting out of regression this weekend. And we are also making you a regression schedule so you have scheduled relaxation times.” Derek adds.

“We will try to be there as much as we can, but if we aren’t then we will constantly be checking in over call.” Aaron says, leaning forward on the counter.

“We also need to apologize.” Spencer interrupts. “Last weekend, it was supposed to be our weekend. You were amazing through out the weekend even though we seemed to have neglected to look after you the way we had planned.”

“Spencer is right. We should have been more attentive towards you last weekend.” Aaron adds, nodding. “We are sorry honey.”

“Yeah, babygirl. We should have done a lot better. Forgive us?” Derek gives you a soft smile.

“Hmm…” You act like you are thinking. “Only if I get to stay up tonight.”

“Nope. You can have an extra scoop of ice cream but bed time isn’t budging.” Spencer said right away while Aaron and Derek nodded in agreement.

“Okay fine.” You pouted playfully but giggled as Aaron attacked you with tickles, trying to run away as Derek tried to save you and Spencer joined Aaron in trying to tickle you.

The rest of your night was the best one all week. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#criminal minds x y/n #little!reader x caregiver!spencer reid #little!reader #little reader #caregiver!hotch x little!reader #criminal minds x little reader #little!reader x caregiver!derek morgan #little!reader x caregiver!hotch #criminal minds agere #criminal minds

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megamindsecretlair · 9 months ago

Text

Runaway Lover, Part 1

Pairing: Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. ANGST. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving) teasing/mocking, cum play/swallowing, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, referring to female anatomy as she, all consensual. Use of n-word. Mentions of God, Christian leaning. Sorry if I missed some, I'm rushing, just let me know.

Summary: On a girl's trip with your friends to Punta Cana, getting some much needed rest before spring semester, you bump into Stunna and a whirlwind romance rocks you to your core.

Word Count: 9,326k

Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: This is a wonderful ask from @melaninpov. I'm sorry if this wasn't what you had in mind, I've been watching romance movies all day and this turned sweet unexpectedly. Happy Valentine's Day, my loves. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia

“Are you sure this isn’t too short?” You asked your friends. You stood in the bathroom of your hotel suite. The bright, fluorescent lighting in the bathroom highlighted everything. Everything. You wore a simple gold dress with intricate bronze and burnished orange swirls. It was a tad too short and showed a tad too much.

You weren’t a prude but you were also unused to showing…so much. You tugged at the short sleeves, the low neckline, and pinched the areas around your sides. You weren’t sure why you packed the damn thing, but you were drinking while packing. Something you vowed to never do again.

“You look so hot!” Your friend, Stella, said and moved closer to you and faced the mirror. She wore a violet dress with sparkling beads woven in to make it look like she wore a dress made of stars. It fit her deep ebony skin perfectly and brought out the subtle jewel tones in her skin.

You bit your lip, tasting the sweet lipgloss you dabbed on your lips. Abusing your lips was your worst sin and you avoided putting anything on them but tonight, you were all about new experiences. Hopefully.

“I should change,” you said. You pushed past Stella’s calls out for you to stop and that there was no need.

Angela appeared in the doorway and trapped you in the bathroom. “Damn girl!” You said. Stella’s sister was gorgeous in a marigold bodycon dress that hugged all of her curves and showed off her perfectly round ass. Truly, an apple bottom that she claimed was her best feature.

Angela preened under the praise but did not lower her hands from the door frame. “You’re not changing. None of us are changing. We only have two days left before it’s back to fucking school and we’re going out with a bang. They better be throwing us out before the trip is over,” she said.

She pushed you back into the bathroom. Thank goodness the space was big enough for all three of you. There were wide tile squares on the floor, a discarded hotel towel on the floor to keep you all from slipping, and two large mirrors over a double sink.

Angela and Stella finished up their makeup and demanded that you applied more gloss. Stella handed you a clutch to match your dress and told you to take the gloss with you.

You accepted it with a roll of your eyes. You’d likely go through the entire tube before the night was over. You were constantly at battle with your anxiety. Ya’ll really didn’t fuck with each other but it was like a toxic ex that didn’t know how to leave you alone. You could block, skip, and hop away from it but it was always lurking around the corner.

“Alright! Let’s go!” Stella yelled, getting you two pumped for the night’s activities. You all put on your matching heels or sandals, grabbed purses and clutches, and tucked in last minute items you may need, and headed out of the door.

Punta Cana was a balmy destination spot with plenty of resorts. The trip there had been uneventful but you and your friends had stayed glued to the windows, snapping pictures of the local plantlife, hills, and palm trees.

At the resort, you couldn’t help looking around in wide-eyed wonder, taking in the people and accommodations. You had been here for a few days enjoying the beach and accompanying swimming pool at the resort.

Everyone was friendly and open and a staff member was always around waiting to answer your questions. The goal of the trip was rest, rest, and more fucking rest. You were approaching your final year of school. After this spring semester, you were officially a senior and would have to enter the dreaded world of adults.

Stella and Angela kept up a steady stream of chatter on the ride down the elevator about what they were most excited for. The adults only resort was a breath of fresh air. No kids running around and no harried parents running after them.

Tonight, you were going to the club in the resort. So far, your activities have kept you from that venue. You rode ATVs and did a snorkeling tour off the shore of the beach. You also climbed into a boat to watch the local marine life. That part was your favorite.

Angela had to remind you that you were in fact young and it was okay to enjoy yourself. Half the time, you didn’t know where your anxiety came from. You could be having the time of your life and then boom! Your anxiety was snatching your breath away and warning you of an invisible threat. No matter how many times you asked for proof or begged to know what the threat was, your anxiety only shook its head and repeated the warning tone: danger, danger!

You shoved your anxiety in the recesses of your mind. You were not in danger. There was no threat. You were only here to have a good time.

On the main floor of the resort, the wide open arches and large windows let in enough of the view that you saw the moon ascending the sky. Sunset was losing its grip on this part of the world. Swirling colors of lilac, tangerine, and amber dotted the sky as night approached. The ambient lighting outside began to turn on one by one.

Stella looped her arms through yours and Angela’s arms and pulled you toward the entrance to the club. The music reached you first. Hotel guests were spilling in and out of the place so it must be a popular spot.

You swallowed around the huge lump in your throat as you pushed inside, flashing your wristbands that confirmed your age and the amenities you paid for. The staff member waved you in with a polite smile and soon you were entrenched in the booming club.

The space itself was huge with plenty of dancefloor area. The upbeat, fast paced music got everybody dancing and shaking their hips. There were pillars stationed around the room holding up the ceiling but other than that, it was pretty much open. There was a bar area on a raised platform filled with tables and chairs.

Most were all occupied as people looked over the railing at the brave people down below getting it on in various states of fancy clothing. Dresses flew through the space. Heels clacked on the floor. Hands were in the air in an undulating wave like the waters that crashed on the shore.

There was a heavy smell of liquor and sweat and some type of sweet perfume in the air that tried to combat it. There was no way to combat the funk so it ended up smelling like sweet sweat. But that was to be expected with so many people in one room shaking what the Lord gave them.

You and your friends made a beeline to the bar, immediately ordering sugary drinks that would go straight to your head. Alcohol was never a proper solution to anxiety. However, you’d take anything for a release from its shackles for the night.

As you waited for your drink, you bounced your shoulders trying to get your body to catch up to your mind. “Naw, show us what you got, girl!” Stella said. She whistled and encouraged you to dance a little more, shake a little more.

Fuck it. You couldn’t let your anxiety win this time around. You started getting into it, shaking your booty faster and then backing away from the bar. You felt the rhythm of the song, waving your hands and getting your whole body into it.

You backed up one more step and tripped, your body flying to the right. You shrieked, hands reaching out to catch your fall. However, you didn’t fall. Strong arms encircled you. It took a few moments for your mind to catch up to the fact that you weren’t kissing the nasty club floor.

Your heart roared in your chest, causing stops and starts that made you shake all over. The strong arms pulled you back to standing, righting yourself on your wedges. “Thank you,” you said.

You looked up into the most gorgeous pair of brown eyes you had ever seen. Those eyes were framed by a long face, wide nose, and a trimmed dark beard. He had a big smile with perfect, symmetrical teeth encased in hollow grills.

The man had rich, deep golden brown skin that he showed off with a collared navy shirt and black jeans. His upper arms were bulging with muscles, straining against the short sleeves of his shirt.

He was in a word: devastating.

“Are you okay?” Sound finally filtered past your racing heartbeat. The way he looked at you gave you the indication that he had asked it more than once. You bit your lip and nodded. You forgot how words worked.

“Are you sure you didn’t twist anything?” He asked. His voice felt like what hot chocolate on a cold evening tasted like. It warmed you up from the inside out, awakening places that didn’t usually awaken for anything other than your favorite celebrity and brownies.

Your mind was slow, fuzzy around the edges, as it dawned on you that he was pointing to your feet. You moved each leg, leaning on him while you lifted your legs and moved them in a tiny circle.

You looked back into his eyes and nodded again. “Good,” you chirped.

He smiled slowly. Fuck, you could watch him smile for the rest of your days and never get sick of it. He was so damn cute. And hot. A dangerous combination that had you acting like Helen Keller. ‘Cept you could plainly see how divinely sexy he was.

“Can I buy you a drink to apologize for ruining your dance?” He asked.

You smiled and ducked your head, cheeks warming up from the embarrassment of dancing in front of him. You looked down at his hands secured around your arms, at your hands on his.

You started to move them but he held on a little tighter, unwilling to let you go. “I…kind of already ordered one,” you said around the thick lump in your throat. Come on! Get it together! What the hell was wrong with you?

“Oh, are you here with someone?” He asked. He still didn’t let you go.

You licked your lips, the sweet taste of manufactured strawberries coating your tongue and snapping some sense back into you. You nodded and looked towards your friends. They were openly gawking at you.

“My friends,” you finally said.

“But no guy?” He asked.

You giggled and shook your head. “No girl?” You asked.

He smiled and shook his head. “I’m Stunna,” he said.

You told him your name. He said a few times, rolling the syllables around his tongue like one did to a lollipop. You focused on his mouth and the way he said your name. As if he had been saying it his whole life and never wanted to stop.

“If I can’t buy you a drink, can I get your number? You from the States?” He asked.

Anxiety reared its huge, ugly, monstrous head. You were nervous to just…abandon your friends. Let alone your drink. With your luck, you lived on complete opposite sides of the country. You nodded, to give him an answer about the States. But were too nervous to tell him where. To even hint at the possibility that you could occupy the same city and there wasn’t a national alert about it.

You were sure that he caused a storm of women wherever he went. You would have noticed if he lived around the Bay. You knew that you’d feel him in your blood, taste him in your veins if you lived in the same area. Certain that you would have bumped into each other already. Seen each other somewhere.

“I should probably get back to my friends. I’m sure your friends are missing you as well,” you said. You reluctantly withdrew your hold on him. Your small claim for the time being. Relinquishing that hold hurt.

He nodded. As you turned to leave, he swiftly caught your hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed your fingers. “Save a dance for me? I wanna see more of them moves.”

A nervous giggle pushed against your rib cage, threatening to spill over. You swallowed it back down and bit your lip. You didn’t want to keep turning him down but your stomach twisted and turned. Danger! Threat!

There was nothing threatening about the man so you figured that you needed away. You needed space to breathe and think. Time spent away from his spicy cologne that tickled your nose.

You nodded once more. What were the odds that he’d find you again in this club? If your friends weren’t at the bar, you wouldn’t know the first place to look for them.

Stunna let go of your hand and backed away, giving you a small wink before turning back to his friends. He was surrounded by a group of guys, all hot in some way or another? Damn. You checked out his back side as you walked back to your friends.

“The hell you doing back here?” Stella asked.

“What’s happening? Why aren’t you sitting in that man’s lap?” Angela asked.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. You grabbed your drink, the glass sweating from sitting so long. How long had you been talking to Stunna? And why did you feel like you wanted to run right back into his arms?

You took deep gulps of the fruity concoction, letting the alcohol seep through your system and chase away your anxiety. The cold from the drink burned away the lump in your throat. Being away from him helped. It helped in a way that was foreign to you to name or identify.

People didn’t have physical reactions to others right? Like that was a thing made up by romance movies to get people’s heads in the clouds and sell more candy in stores, right?

Your friends hounded you for answers to their questions, wondering what you spoke about and why you weren’t still talking to him.

“I didn’t want to abandon you for some guy. This is a girl’s trip. A relaxing trip,” you said.

“You better relax on that man’s dick! Like you saw him right? Like you saw the way he looked at you? Girl, please tell me she’s not that oblivious,” Stella said, leaning her head on her sister’s shoulder.

Angela tossed her hands up as if she were preaching to a congregation. “Father God, grant your child the gift of sight because she’s clearly blind,” Angela said.

You laughed, rubbing your forehead at their embarrassing shenanigans. “I’m not oblivious!”

“I pray that I’ll never do some dumb shit like her, Lord. Smite her and send the nigga my way, because damn,” Stella said. She looked behind you and you panicked, standing in her way to not bring attention to the fact that you were discussing Stunna. You risked a glance over your shoulder.

Stunna was sitting down at a table, faced in your direction. He lifted his glass to you and you smiled, turning around and immediately dropping it. The drink wasn’t helping. Butterflies flapped tiny wings in your stomach. He was killing you.

“What happened to new experiences?” Angela asked.

“Not that damn new,” you muttered, sipping more of your drink. At this rate, you’d need ten drinks to calm the wings in your stomach.

Stella groaned dramatically, throwing her arms across your shoulders. “As sweet as it is to worry about us, you see us every damn day. How often do you run across someone that damn fine in real life? In real life? He belongs in a magazine or on TV or some shit,” she said.

That was the fucking truth. “He probably lives on the East Coast or something,” you said, waving Stella off of you. You were too hot. There were too many people here. Too many clusters of hot breath, sweat, and body heat raising the temperature in the room to dangerous levels.

You sipped more of your drink. You tapped your foot against the hard floor, vibrating with energy that had nowhere to go. Nothing to do but zip up and down your body and twist your insides.

“So? You ain’t trynna marry the nigga. Just get down,” Angela said and bent low, shaking her hips. Stella joined her, sticking their tongues out. Stella turned around and bounced her booty against Angela. Angela mimed hitting Stella’s ass and you laughed, waving them away.

“You two are a hot fucking mess!” You screamed. They continued to dance and giggle, shaking their ass and proceeding to make you wish the floor swallowed you whole.

“Since our girl is romantically deficient, let’s get on the floor,” Stella said. You finished your drink and followed your friends to the dance floor.

You started out stiff, not wanting to bump up against anyone. You didn’t need a repeat from earlier. Your friends noticed your reluctance and each took one of your hands. They began to swing you around.

You smiled, falling for their obvious charm. You loosened up and relaxed. The drink finally did the trick and you surrendered to the music. You closed your eyes and felt the thumping beats, the instruments, and sultry crooning of the singer.

You danced and laughed with your friends, relishing the feeling of being young and carefree. This was what you had been chasing this entire trip. This feeling of being present and in the moment.

You began to twerk as the music changed, popping your ass to the beat of the song. Your friends cheered you on. You placed your hands on your knees and got lower. Someone sidled up behind you, not one of your friends you were sure.

You shrugged your shoulders and kept dancing. Now was the time to keep living in the moment. You could dance with someone that wasn’t in your immediate comfort circle. You couldn’t always hang onto your friends like a barnacle.

Large hands circled your waist and you leaned back into a lean but strong frame. The stranger felt like a man and a good dancer on top of it. Able to match your changing moves. The stranger grabbed your hands and spun you around to face him.

Stunna grinned at the surprise on your face. “I thought I told you to save me a dance,” he yelled to be heard over the music.

“What took you so long?” You asked.

“Like that?” He asked, exaggerating his words. You nodded. He matched your nod and then spun you back around. You giggled, breathless at being spun around like a doll. He pulled you around the dancefloor dancing to the fast-paced music with ease. Now it was you that was having trouble keeping up with him.

You faced him now and your hands were in each other’s, dancing with complicated turns and twirling limbs that made you feel like you were on Dancing With the Stars. The song finished and you waved your heads. “I need a break!”

Stunna grinned, flashing those damn grills. You stared at them, wondering if he took them out during sex. Was he the type to go down on a woman? Stunna winked as he if sensed the direction of your thoughts.

He placed his hand on your lower back and led you back to the bar. You ordered some water and he made you order a drink. “Since you don’t wanna give a nigga your phone number,” he said with a show-stopping smile.

You rolled your eyes. “Why do you want my number?” You asked. You drank the water bottle at his nudging.

“So I can hear that sexy ass voice in my ear,” he said.

You rolled your eyes playfully and played with the paper around the water bottle. “You’re so bad,” you said.

He shrugged his shoulders, calling your name like he was savoring the taste of it. “I’m still right though. I want to keep talking to you,” he said.

You could practically feel your friends on your shoulders like little devils pushing you to give him your number. What harm could it do? You held out your hand for his phone. He dug it out of his pocket and handed it to you.

His total focus on you while you entered your number was unnerving. You couldn’t help giggling as you put in your number. He reached out and trailed a finger down your arm, raising goosebumps in its wake. You messed up on a number and giggled in his direction.

“You’re distracting me,” you said.

“Yeah? Good. But make sure that number right,” he said. He peeked across the screen as you backspaced and entered your number correctly.

He smelled like his cologne, sweat, and whatever drink he had throughout the night. You handed his phone back to him. You fanned yourself with your clutch while he looked at his phone.

He smiled and tapped a few times. “There, now you have my number,” he said.

The butterflies returned to your stomach the longer you spent in his presence. He liked that he could fluster you so easily and tried his damndest to keep doing so. Your cheeks ached from all the smiling you did.

You talked more about yourself and your friends and why you came to the D.R. He told you that he was out here celebrating for his friend’s wedding. The wedding had already passed, cheaper during the week, so they were spending the weekend celebrating with friends.

“It’s nice of you all to come out here and celebrate with them,” you said. Stunna turned his head to the side, he didn’t hear you. The music seemed to get louder and even though you yelled, he couldn’t hear you.

Stunna scooted closer to you and yelled in your ear. “Wanna go outside?”

You looked at him and nodded. You couldn’t hear shit, but you were pretty sure you could hear your friends whooping for joy as Stunna took your hand and led you outside of the club.

Your ears popped as you reached the quiet interior of the lobby. There was a stark contrast between the two rooms and your ears rung. You shook your head, trying to clear the ringing. Stunna did the same, shaking his shoulders too for good measure.

Being out in the lobby, the base temperature felt like frost at the top of a mountain. You shivered as it highlighted buckets of sweat rolling down your spine and between your breasts.

A drop of sweat rolled down Stunna’s arm and you followed the movement as it trailed down a prominent vein. Stunna still held your hand and you walked out of the resort, past the open pool that shimmered with light from nearby lamps.

You walked along the concrete pathways heading down to the beach. Before you stepped onto the sand, you leaned down and took off your wedges. Stunna took off his boots, and rolled up his pants legs.

“Looks like I was smart to wear a dress,” you said and giggled at him.

“Damn smart. I’m glad you did. Your body in that dress, hmm,’ he said and rolled his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Stop,” you chuckled and shook your head. He was incorrigible.

“Naw, I can’t. Your ass looks amazing. Thighs I just wanna squeeze. Lips I wanna kiss,” he said. He stood up to his full height and you stared at him.

Soft moonlight fell over his features on one side of his face. The lamps gave a warm glow on the other side. He was light, soaking it all up and reflecting it back out to seem like he had an inner glow.

You sighed, staring at this work of art before you. You wanted to pinch yourself. You stepped closer but Stunna only smiled, grabbed your hand, and you took off down the beach. You spent time walking up and down, warm sand digging between your toes.

You talked more, learning about him and how much he loved to read. You shared that passion and spoke about books you’ve read and favorite authors. He took your recommendations seriously, pulling out his phone to add books to a list on his phone.

“Come back to my room,” he said.

You shook your head. “Won’t your friends be looking for you?”

“Naw. I got my own room. I ain’t sharing shit with them nasty niggas,” he said.

You laughed, moving away from him as the sand made you trip up. Stunna pulled you back to his side. “See, yo clumsy ass need somewhere to sit. Come sit in my room,” he said.

You were back in the same position from earlier when he rescued you from falling. He gripped your elbows, standing close enough to lick, and your hands were on his arms. He was too close, surrounding you with him. You couldn’t think past him. When you looked up, all you saw was him.

You waited to feel panicked and shaky. To warn you to step away and flee from him. It never came. “If I go back to your room, I doubt we’ll just be sitting,” you said.

“I never said that. That’s yo nasty mind,” he said. He licked his lips. “But I like the way you think. You wanna come sit in my lap?”

There were no reservations. No warning bells in your head. No screeches of noise or racing thoughts to prevent you from biting your lip and nodding. From grabbing his hand and watching each other as you left the beach and headed inside.

You didn’t talk as you leaned against one another in the elevator. He placed a kiss to your head and you melted even further into him. The elevator softly dinged and the doors opened to his floor. He stayed in the building next to your room. You were sort of relieved. Had he stayed in the same building or even on the same floor, it would have been too perfect. Too obviously a set up by God or whoever was out there listening.

Stunna swiped his keycard once he got to his room and opened the door. You walked inside the cool room and turned on lights.

He had a suitcase on the couch of his suite, open to reveal some clothes he packed. He had shoes strewn about but for the most part, he was a clean guest. He closed the door and you turned to look at him.

You placed your shoes on the ground next to his, marveling at the contrast between your sizes. It looked oddly perfect sitting side by side. You ignored that runaway thought as you quickly texted your friends that you would be late to the room. It was a good chance to not wait up for you at all if this night went how you were expecting.

Stunna watched you place your clutch on the TV stand. He moved about the room, cleaning up but it wasn’t necessary. Just bags and bottles of water that were on the nightstand.

“I’ll wash off this sand,” you told him.

“I’ll go after you. Take your time,” he said.

Take your time, yeah right. If you took long enough, you would summon your anxiety like an ancient deity out for your blood. You quickly went to the bathroom and freshened up a little, running the bath to clean off your feet. You didn’t even look at yourself in the mirror. If you did, you would chicken out.

You didn’t want to chicken out. You wanted a wild story. A story to tuck in your heart and bring out as the years passed and you lived your life. A story that you held on to when you got older and your partying days was nearing its end.

When you left the bathroom, Stunna had lowered the lights to make it more intimate and softer. He opened the curtains revealing a balcony that overlooked the ocean. He stood outside, twisting caps off of water bottles. He also had a bottle of Hennesy on the small table outside.

You approached and he smiled when you did. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

He went to the bathroom to clean off the sand. You stepped out fully and enjoyed the breeze kissing your skin. You sipped some of the Hennessy, enjoying that sweet burn. The ocean waves crashed against the shore but from this height, you saw further than you did in your room.

Few stars were able to wink in and out behind dark clouds in the sky. The half moon shone down onto the beach and over the resort. Stunna returned and wrapped his hands around your waist, leaning against you.

He grabbed the cup from your hands and finished the rest. He kissed his way along your exposed neck, sending shivers down your spine. You sighed and relaxed into him. He made no move to do anything else, no roaming hands or nasty words.

“You are so gorgeous,” he said.

You turned in his arms and faced him. “I’m done talking. Kiss me,” you said.

He grinned, flashing those damn golds that have been driving you crazy all night. “You sure?”

You wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him closer before you lost your nerve. You finally tasted him, tasted the bite of Hennessy on his lips. His lips were warm and wet and his tongue dived into your mouth. You moaned as he explored, running his tongue along yours and along your teeth.

Stunna’s hands gripped your arms and moved lower, cupping your ass and squeezing tight. You growled from how good it felt. How wonderful it felt to be in his arms. Stunna hissed in between his kisses, like you were both on fire but he was willing to risk kissing you through the flames.

Your back was against the railing and he pushed into you, rubbing his erection against your tummy. You moaned.

“Keep moaning like that and I won’t be able to control myself,” he said against your lips. You opened your eyes to look at him.

“Don’t control yourself,” you said.

He laughed and licked his lips. He sat down in the closest chair and pulled you into his lap. You straddled him, wobbling a bit since his stance was so wide. Your legs draped on the outside of his and he spread his legs so that he could spread you wider.

His hands searched under your dress so that he could cup your ass directly. Dig those skillful fingers into the meat of your ass. He spanked one cheek and you jerked in his lap, your pussy rubbing against the fabric of his jeans.

He growled, fingers seeking your wet heat. When he found your clit, he had no mercy. He began to run his thumb around the sensitive nub. You scooted higher on his lap, needing the friction of his jeans to help speed your arousal along. Not that you really needed it. You were already dripping for him.

“Mm, so wet. You always sit your pretty ass on strangers and let them finger your pussy?” He asked around kissing you.

“N-No,” you moaned.

He suckled on your bottom lip and your pussy throbbed. He was working some type of magic between your legs. Some type of spell that threatened to rip you into pieces.

“No? You telling me that this is all for me?” He asked. “I get to be the one to play with you?”

“Yess,” you sighed against his lips.

“Then I should feel special that you’re soaking my fingers already and I’ve yet to feel you?”

“Shit,” you sighed. Your arms were wrapped completely around his neck, holding onto him and keeping him close.

He kissed your neck, licking it, while his fingers finally dipped into your entrance. You shook with a long moan, throwing your head back as pleasure rolled through you in cascading waves.

“Nasty little girl, aren’t you?” He asked.

“N-No,” you whined.

He chuckled. “You letting me play with your pussy. And it feels so good gripping my fingers. Bad little girl,” he growled against your throat.

His other hand snaked up your body until he gripped your throat. Your eyes rolled to the back as he squeezed with force. He brought your head closer so that your foreheads were touching.

His fingers increased in pressure and he drove them into you. Effectively fucking you with his fingers. “Say you’re a bad girl,” he said.

Your breathing was heavy and slow, not pumping enough oxygen into your brain. Or perhaps it was him. Perhaps he was some type of demon, stealing the oxygen from your lungs as your orgasm swam to the surface.

You couldn’t make your words work. The words stuck to the roof of your mouth like peanut butter. Your mouth moved, working double time as he stuck two fingers inside and rolled your clit with his thumb.

“Say it if you wanna cum,” he said.

“I wanna,” you whined.

“You wanna what?” He asked. “Shit, you’re so fucking wet. Can’t wait to taste you. Do you taste as sweet as you look?”

You whined and gyrated your hips. Why couldn’t you say anything? Why couldn’t your mouth work to speak?

“I wanna cum,” you finally choked out. You leaned your head back. He allowed you to do so and he kissed your neck around his fingers, dipping low to kiss your chest and just above your breasts.

“Say you’re a bad girl if you wanna cum,” he demanded.

You were close. Incredibly close. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you moaned.

“I’m waiting,” he whispered against your skin. Blowing air across your chest, around the pools of saliva he left on your skin.

“I’m bad. I’m a bad girl,” you moaned.

“So bad,” he agreed.

“So bad. You make me feel so good,” you moaned.

His fingers never stopped pumping into you. Your legs squeezed his and your eyes shut as you cried with your orgasm. Stunna continued to pump his fingers as you came, cooing against your skin.

“So pretty when you cum,” he said. When you were done and slumped against him, he withdrew his fingers. Shivers still wracked your body. He moaned while he suckled on his fingers, licking up your essence.

You watched him as he closed his eyes and savored your taste. You licked your lips watching him. He cleaned his fingers and gave you a wink. “You okay?” He asked.

You shook your head. “I wanna taste you too,” you said.

He grinned. “Get on your knees,” he said. You slid off of his lap with a lopsided smile. The balcony floor wasn’t entirely comfortable, but you were too focused on him unzipping his pants. He released himself from his pants and briefs.

Your eyes widened. You couldn’t possibly fit the whole thing in your mouth?!

Stunna chuckled and moved to put his dick away but you gripped his thighs. “I said, I want to taste you too.” You glanced at him as you took him into your mouth. He gave you an impressed smirk, licking his lips at the look of you taking him deep within your mouth.

You couldn’t fit all of him like you thought. But you got enough of him down. You hoped that your inexperience didn’t show. You’ve sucked dicks before but he was probably used to throat goats. Used to women taking him down to the base, fondling his balls, or knowing what the fuck to do.

You only knew that you wanted to keep going. Wanted to please him. You drooled on him and released him to get some air. Using both hands, you twisted his long shaft and then suckled the head of his dick back into your mouth.

His eyes opened and closed, back bowing off of the chair, as he groaned. His hand palmed your head and pushed you down on his dick, pushing you past your limit until you choked. He eased up, but you took him how he wanted. Your saliva helped your hands twist around his dick and coat his tip.

“Gahh damn. Fuckin’ nasty,” he groaned. You made a pleased sound in the back of your throat and continued to take him deeper and faster. Your sloppy, wet suckling was loud in the quiet air.

You slurped him, drops of precum hitting your tongue. You suckled him all down, glancing at him periodically to see the ecstasy on his face. The pleasure you were bringing him.

“Gonna bust,” he groaned.

“Wanna taste,” you said around his dick.

His breathing turned choppy before he tensed. You felt his orgasm travel up his shaft before he moaned, releasing his cum in your mouth. You continued to milk him for every drop you could. You swallowed him all down.

He pushed at your shoulders to stop, sounds escaping him that you never heard from a man. “Too good,” he panted.

You grinned. You wiped at the corners of your mouth. “You’re dangerous,” he said.

You blinked up innocently at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said.

His eyebrows raised and he chuckled, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Remember you said that,” he said.

He scooted the chair back and stood up, helping you to your feet. He pushed you into the room and closed the balcony door, leaving behind a tiny crack to still let in the breeze from the ocean.

He unzipped your dress and dropped it to the floor, sighing at the look of your body. You never felt so cherished during sex. You weren’t expecting love and all that crap whenever you took someone to bed. It was more like an overwhelming itch that needed to be scratched.

After the deed, your anxiety returned with a vengeance and you were the first out of the door. No one wanted to deal with an anxious mess after getting off.

With Stunna, there was none of that usual nervousness or shyness holding you back. You just wanted him.

Your soaked panties went next. He knelt down, doing all the work of removing it. He kissed along your spine and back, the globes of your ass, and the back of your thighs. You shivered at the attention. The care with which he removed your panties.

He stood back up and unhooked your bra, freeing your breasts. He eagerly grabbed them from behind and rolled your nipples between his fingers. He pulled you until you leaned back against him.

“Can’t wait to get these in my mouth. I wanna be a gentleman, but fuck. I just want to break you,” he said.

A vicious tingle spread around your thighs. “I never asked you to be a gentleman,” you said.

He chuckled. “Fair, but I don’t wanna scare you away,” he said.

“I’m a big girl. I can use my words when I need to,” you said.

“Yeah? Get on the bed then. Hands and knees, bad girl,” he said. He smacked your ass, hard and you did as instructed. You climbed into his bed and got on your hands and knees.

You were too far away however. He grabbed your hips roughly and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He gripped himself and shoved into your inviting pussy with one savage thrust. His grip on your hip prevented you from escaping. You tried to lean forward, but he held you in place.

He pressed on your back until your chest was against the bed. Your ass was high in the air, giving him total access to you. He smacked your ass.

“You been talkin’ mad shit all night,” he said. He began to stroke, delivering hard and long thrusts that immediately found your G-spot.

“Oh shit!” You cried out.

“That’s my shit.” You heard the pleased grin in his tone. How did he find it so fast?

He continued to stroke, hitting your sweet spot over and over with military precision. He smacked your ass with one hand while the other kept a firm grip. “You ain’t so bold now. A little dick shuts you up?” He asked.

You couldn’t speak. He was slamming into you so hard, just the way you always dreamt of. It brought tears to your eyes. Most guys were afraid to be rough. Afraid of catching a case once you asked them to go a little deeper or stroke a little harder.

Not Stunna. He drove into you, seeking something you couldn’t name. It didn’t take long before you were convulsing, shaking on his dick.

“Talk to me, then. Say somethin’ else,” he said.

“Achgg,” you moaned, eyes rolling.

Stunna continued to work himself inside of you. His dick speared you. Nearly split you in half. You bounced back on his dick, giving as much as you got.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Don’t let me stand in your way. You take what you need from me,” he said.

Wet, smacking noises filled the room. The sound of your combined fucking pushed another orgasm to the surface. Your ass clapped on his thighs. Your screams were sure to draw the attention of his neighbors.

He leaned forward and wrapped his hands around your throat. “Fuuh,” you moaned.

Both of you matched each other’s intensity. He pulled you by your throat to swallow every long inch of him. Your desperate thrusts sounded like thunder against his skin.

“Goh, goh, fuh,” you chanted in rapid succession.

“So good, so good. Pussy feel so good. You were made to take this dick, weren’t you? You were made for it,” he groaned.

Your hands feebly held onto the bed in front of you but there was no use. This was so intense and passionate that your orgasm crushed you into a tiny ball and flung you into a tornado. You screamed until you were hoarse. Drool leaked out of your mouth with your whiny cries.

Stunna continued to hold your throat and pound, chasing his own climax. “Greedy ass. Fuck, you take me so well,” he groaned.

You were shaking as you rode out your orgasm. As soon as you ended, he began. He flooded your pussy with his cum, roaring like an animal as he climaxed. Your body twitched and spasmed on his dick. His dick hit something deep inside, too deep to know what. But it hit a natural reset.

Stunna let go of your throat and held onto your hips to keep from falling on top of you. You both panted, harsh breaths filling the room. You sniffled as you recovered, brain quiet for once.

Stunna slipped out of you and he leaned back to watch his cum slip out. He panted and his breaths fell across your ass and pussy.

“Fuck,” he said.

You agreed. You never felt something like that before. Possessed. Owned. It was a feeling you would spend your entire life trying to find again. Would you be able to?

Both of you were too wobbly to move. As if with your dual climaxes, you had entered a new plane of existence. Being back in the real world sucked. It seemed foreign. You were changed by the experience so why hadn’t the world changed?

Stunna left to go to the bathroom and returned with a warm washcloth. You cried at the sensation. “Shh, shh, I got you,” he said.

The rough fucking was everything you needed but you were fucking sore. You ached. It felt too damn good for you to complain though. He gently cleaned you up, wiping you down and wiping off some of the sweat.

You curled up into a ball, trying to will yourself to move. To get dressed and make your escape. You felt like the sex police would descend from the ceiling and arrest you for upsetting the natural law of the universe.

You couldn’t move. You felt too raw, too exposed. You focused on your breathing, on drawing air in and then out. Stunna returned from the bathroom and you cringed at the picture you must make.

“I’ll leave just as soon as my legs work,” you mumbled.

Stunna chuckled. “Can you stay?” He sat on the bed in front of you. You were too afraid to look in his eyes. You didn’t know if you were over exaggerating the moment. You wouldn’t be able to bear it if you felt like your world tilted on its axis while it was just Friday night to him.

Stunna laid down on the bed and lifted your chin with his fingers. “Please, stay,” he whispered.

His eyes swirled with emotion. As if the moment you left, this would all disappear from memory. Until he wasn’t sure if he dreamt this or it was real. It only mirrored what you were feeling so you nodded and he grinned. “What you need?”

For your skin to feel like it wasn't going to slough off the moment you unfurled. You looked at him with wide eyes. He nodded as if he understood the turmoil inside of you. He stood up and then came around to lay behind you. His hands came around your arms and knees, pulling you into the heat of his body.

You sighed. Exactly what you needed. He pulled the covers over you, wrapping you in a tiny cocoon of heat. You drifted off to the sound of his quiet breathing. The last thing you felt was a tiny kiss behind your ear.

In the morning, you yawned and stretched. Stunna was asleep next to you. Somehow, you were laying properly in the bed, head on a pillow and his hand draped across your tummy. You watched him in the early morning light.

This was dangerous. Ludicrous. It was crazy to feel this type of connection with someone else. Someone so obviously built for you yet it couldn’t last. Tomorrow you were flying back home. On Monday, it was back to classes.

After taking a peek at the edge of the universe, how did you go back to normal? How did you carry on and keep this in your memory bank?

You had to get out. You lifted his hand to scoot away from him. Away from the oppressive heat that made sweat pool behind your knees.

Stunna groaned and sniffed, pulling you back against his side. “Where you think you going?” He asked.

You giggled. “Back to my suite,” you said.

“You was gonna sneak out? That’s cold,” he said. His deep voice was rough from sleep and it made your pussy flutter. Really? After all that last night, she was still ready to go?!

“Sneak is such an ugly word.” You sighed as he finally cracked one eye open and looked at you.

“At least let me get you breakfast. You can get changed and meet me right back here,” he said.

You laughed. “What if I have plans?” You asked.

“You do. With me,” he said.

You shook your head. “You’re crazy.”

He grabbed your hand and linked your fingers together. Your hands were perfect against each other, skin tones perfectly aligned.

“Please? Text your friends and tell them you’re safe. When do you leave?” He asked.

“Tomorrow,” you said.

“See? Give me one last day until we can figure out when we’ll see each other again.”

You sighed. You couldn’t say no to that face. Those eyes. You bit your lip and nodded. He grinned, peppering you with kisses all over your face.

He ordered room service and ate you out before it came up. He moaned and suckled while he did so, grinding his hips into the bed like he wanted to bury his face into your pussy forever.

When the food arrived, you talked and ate and laughed, sharing more details about yourself but not personal information like the fact that you were in school or where he was working. You talked through safe subjects but all the information you gathered about him, you held it close to your heart.

Each passing moment spent with him carved out a section of your heart and replaced it with a gorgeous, sexy man named Stunna. You did make it back to your room where your friends gushed over your night. You still had no words but you squealed while you showered and begged their forgiveness while you planned to spend the day with Stunna.

They encouraged you, admitting that in a move that surprised no one, they found their way to their own flavor of the day. They agreed to come back to the room at a decent hour to pack away their shit and figure out their flight.

You spent the rest of the day with Stunna, outside of his suite, walking around the resort. It had a small gambling area where he tried to show you how to play poker. He was a very sweet teacher, but you couldn’t make heads nor tails of the rules. You were more of a spades player, but good luck finding that shit here.

You shared desserts and walked along the beach, sitting in the sand in between his legs and talking some more. Stunna stole kisses throughout the day, unwilling to leave your lips for the second it took to breathe and join back together.

As night fell, you ate dinner with him and found your way back to his room where you slowly peeled each other’s clothes off. Where you feasted your eyes on his skin. Gasped as he entered you once more and you gave each other untold amounts of pleasure.

Where he held you like he loved you but fucked you like you stole something from him. You came, looking into his molten brown eyes, nuzzling your cheek against the stubble on his chin. He came with your legs pinned to the mattress and his dick threatening to fuck you into the mattress, the floor, and the next floor down.

You kissed and cuddled while you talked about talking to him every day. He entered you again while you were stubborn, saying you might be busy.

“Naw, this shit belong to me now,” he said while he thrusted into you for the…third time that night? Fourth? Who kept count while his delicious dick was inside you and you felt whole again? Complete.

“It belongs to me,” you said.

He grinned and bit your nipple, then licked away the sting. He continued to nibble across delicate skin, moaning when he found your other nipple and tugged with his teeth. You hissed and your back curved, giving him all the access he wanted.

“Do we have a problem?” He asked.

“Do we?” You countered.

He grinned and then slipped out of you, only to hike one of your legs up in the air. He reentered you from the side, slamming into you until you were crying and shaking on his dick, screaming out his name.

“Stay talkin’ shit,” he groaned as he filled you up once more.

Saying goodbye to him was the hardest shit you ever had to do. It was like you both knew that even with talking every day, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same as lying next to him and feeling him take up space in the room, in your heart, in your pussy.

He kept tugging you back for one more kiss, asking if he could walk you to your room. You were blinking back tears. You didn’t want to leave him. But you couldn’t stay either. Both of you had places to be, lives to get back to.

He leaned in the doorframe, holding your hand and not letting you leave. You smiled. “Stunna, you have to let go.”

“I’on want to,” he said.

“It’s not forever,” you said, trying to sound hopeful. Your words only sounded sad. He sighed and rubbed his head on his arm.

“I know. I know.”

He pulled you close to him, capturing your lips with a devastating kiss. You licked his lips, committing the taste and smell of him to memory. “Not forever,” he said.

“Not forever.”

You turned and snatched your hand. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have the strength to leave. A cold numbness seeped into your bones as you made the trek to your suite. Stella and Angela commented on how melancholy you seemed.

How could you explain it? That you possibly found your soulmate in Punta Cana and had to leave him here? To be happy with texts and phone calls? Poor substitutes to hugging him, cuddling him, kissing him, fucking him?

You told them that you were all fucked out to explain it now. Ask you in a week. When your heart wasn’t broken and the pain was less intense. Less potent.

They left you alone to wallow while you all packed up your things and souvenirs. The ride back home was uneventful. You weren’t up to the usual plane shenanigans of talking and comparing in-flight meals. You didn’t feel like eating at all.

You texted Stunna that you arrived safely and even spoke to him on the phone. But it only hurt worse. “C’mon, we said not forever,” he said.

The bastard was right though. Hearing his voice in your ear helped but it wasn’t the same.

“Not forever. I just want you here,” you said.

“I know. We did a few things backward, but when we’re comfortable, we’ll arrange something,” he said.

You talked until you absolutely had to go to sleep to get ready for class. Luckily, your first class of the day was in the afternoon. You had a chance to recover from the plane ride and time difference.

Everything was dull. The California sun was dull. The campus was boring. Students felt like aliens to you, playing and existing in a world that ended for you back in Punta Cana in Stunna’s arms.

You sighed, not for the hundredth time, as you dragged your carcass across campus and to your class. Settling into your literature class, you didn’t share this with Stella and Angela. You were left to look out of the window, mind far, far away.

Your pen tapped on the desk, picturing that accidental bump into Stunna over and over again. Act of fate? Accident? How could you meet the love of your life only for you to be ripped away from him and planted back into your normal life like nothing was wrong?

The door opened and you assumed your teacher came through. Whatever.

“Sorry, I’m late. Not used to the campus yet.”

Your head whipped around and there he was. Stunna stood at the front of the class wearing a deep brown sweater over chocolate colored pants. The sleeves were rolled up revealing his smooth forearms.

He wrote his name on the whiteboard and your heart seized in your chest. Panic made your heart pound against your rib cage, practically screaming to be let out. You sunk in your seat. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.

Stunna turned around and smiled at the class. When his eyes found yours, his jaw dropped and he stared. He stared and stared and you didn’t know what he was thinking or what he was going to do.

He cleared his throat and smiled at the class, introducing his real name. Not that you thought Stunna was his real name, but it was the name he usually went by. His eyes kept returning to yours.

You…slept with your college professor. Your life was over. Ruined. How the hell could you fall in love with your professor? And what the hell were you going to do now?

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 2 | Part 3

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Big Stunna Files #Big Stunna x Black!reader #Big Stunna x Black reader #x Black reader #Big Stunna x Fem!reader #Big Stunna x Fem reader #Big Stunna x reader #Big Stunna x you #yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfiction #All Day and a Night fanfic #All Day and a Night fan fic #All Day and a Night fan fiction #All Day and a Night fanfiction #Yahya abdul mateen ii fan fiction

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reimenaashelyee · 3 months ago

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New Alexander Comic update!! 🐏

The Queen seeks advice from the Egyptian priest, and he's got some interesting ideas...

A webcomic about the life and legends of Alexander the Great. 👁‍🗨 About the comic 📕 Read from the beginning 🛍 Get the print or ebook edition of Book 1

Historical footnotes under the cut:

... Time flies when one isn't paying attention, doesn't it? (or rather, when one had a final semester of postgrad, two out-of-state weekend festivals and a flu to deal with)

I am just going to give up on consistent updates for the time being in favour of updating whenever I have something new. @_@ The next two months and a half are going to be another whirlwind of activity. Some of the relevant pieces of those two months:

I will be tabling at Emerald Hill Comics Festival in South Melbourne on September 15, 11 am to 4 pm. More info about the festival on Squishface Studios' instagram. As for me, I will be selling my usual wares: Seance Tea Party, My Aunt is a Monster, and Alexander Book 1.

I am currently working on completing the script of Book 2 in preparation for a 2 week long group residency (Comic Art Workshop). If you can believe it, I have been struggling through the script for this Book since late 2019, as the story for this Book is structurally challenging aka it's above my skill level. Things are slowly starting to look up though, which means I am more confident about proceeding with updates.

Footnotes:

The serpentine dalliances referenced are:

Peniarth MS 481 30r (National Library of Wales)

Andreas Boscoli, Olympias, Mother of Alexander, Visited by Zeus in the Guise of a Serpent (Art Institute of Chicago)

BNF Fr. 50 120v (Bibliothèque nationale de France)

#comics #webcomics #alexander the great #ancient greece #artists on tumblr #alexander comic #updating the update text template lol #hiveworks #hiveworks comics

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heli-writes · 7 months ago

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Between then and now, Part 2.

Part 2: The known in the unknown

Pairing: Toshinori Yagi x Reader

Summary: When a whirlwind affair between you and All Might was found out by his manager, it was made sure that no one ever knew about you or your relationship with All Might. Even twenty years later, Toshinori Yagi still thinks of you. His retirement leaves him lonely in a cold city apartment and he wonders what could’ve been. Maybe it’s time to rekindle? But is that what you want?

Disclaimers: -

Note: I finally found some time to work on this!

Heli’s Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The present day, Japan.

It feels weird walking the streets of your hometown again. It's been so long since you've been here. The city changed a lot since you've been wandering around these streets with your friends. While everything seems familiar, most things also feel unknown.

You wander the streets that once were so familiar to you. The TV store where you used to watch the latest hero news after school with your friends has been replaced with a multimedia store. The kiosk, where you and your brother bought sour candy and picture cards hoping to pull a Gran Torino or a Crimson Riot, is also long gone. However, there are some places that are still the same. There's still the library where you and your girls studied hard for your entrance exams to get into university. It's also where you had your first kiss, just behind the business administration section.

Of course, the old university building is still the same. You can't remember how many tears of stress you've shed here and of course tears of joy on your graduation day. That's also where you've met All Might for the first time. He was invited as a guest of honor and had to give a speech to all the graduates. Similar to you who had to give a speech since you graduated summa cum laude. You remember of nervous you were that day.

*~*~*~ *~*

Twenty-two years ago, Japan.

Dear comrades-in-arms, teachers and parents, Today we celebrate the success of a new generation and the bright future... the bright future...

You keep mumbling to yourself going through your cards over and over again. You're sitting behind the stage you have to go on in a few minutes. You groan frustratedly. No matter how well you know the speech you've written, there is no way you will deliver it successfully. First of all, you're not a motivational speaker and second of all, you are way too nervous.

„My, my, someone's nervous!“, a booming voice says right behind you and you jump up in your seat.

When you turn around, you're met with the largest man you've ever seen. Of course, you know who he is. All might, an upcoming hero. He made quite the name for himself, especially during his time in America. The girls in your semester fawn over his good looks. Upon closer inspection, you think he looks quite silly. You mean that grin will haunt you in your nightmares. And what...

„What's up with your hair?“, you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

All Might's creepy smile disappears for a second and he looks stunned but as quickly as it disappears, as quickly it returns. It seriously gives you IT-clown vibes.

„Whatever do you mean? Do you not like my hair, dear citizen?“, he asks you in his perfect-practiced hero voice. You think he sounds fake.

„Uhm, no, I don't.“, you tell him. Again, you don't really think when you answer him.

Now, All Might is taken aback.

„Oh, really? I-i mean you don't find it flashy?“, he says in his normal voice. You're surprised at how timid and soft-spoken he sounds.

„No.“, you tell him with a pointed look.

„Oh, well, alright. That's a first.“, he mumbles.

You turn fully towards him. You look up at him crossing your arms.

„Really? No one told you before that it looks like the antennae of an insect? You know, like a cockroach?“, you explain bluntly.

All Might stares at you stunned for a few seconds before starting to laugh. It's not his booming hero laugh, but an honest one. You think it suits him better than the laugh you've heard on TV.

„You sure are an honest one.“, he tells you wiping the side of his eye.

You shrug. „Should I be dishonest instead? Sounds like a villain's trait.“, you point out. All Might gives you that pretty laugh again.

„I suppose that's true.“, he agrees with you.

There's a moment of silence. Suddenly, the speaker on stage announces you and your speech. Surprisingly, you don't feel nervous anymore. It's probably because you don't have to go on stage with a cockroach hairstyle. Your hair is perfectly styled by the hairstylist your father paid for.

„Break a leg.“, All Might encourages you and gives you two thumbs-up. You give him a smile before going on stage and delivering your speech.

Your speech went well that day. Your parents were proud of you and your mother even cried a little. After the formal celebration and dinner with your family, you celebrate with your friends. Needless to say, all of you are absolutely plastered by the end of the night.

That might be the reason you don't remember much about All Might's speech. Something about being a hero in your own story or so.

What you do remember is the way he laughs when he finds something truly funny.

~*~*~*~ *~*

The present day, Japan.

You smile fondly at the memory. You've been so deep in thought that you didn't notice how far your legs have taken you. You shake your head trying to push the thoughts out of your head and to gain a sense of reality. Right, food!, you tell yourself.

It's been so long since you've been here last, you don't really know where a supermarket is. A quick Google search later, you're finally on your way with a fixed destiny. Luckily, the city's big and so there are plenty of stores to choose from.

You end up getting more things than you initially planned. Having to get all the essentials from salt to butter, your bags are stuffed full. You drag them with you, trying to find the fastest way home. Unfortunately for you, the streets you once knew like the back of your hand faded in your memory. While you were confident that you'd find your way back home without Google Maps, you're not so sure anymore. Actually, you're lost.

Since the bags are getting heavy on your shoulders, you decide to find a bench to sit down for a moment. Maybe also check the map to see where you should actually be heading. Eventually, you find a map and plop down with a heavy groan. Your back isn't what it used to be. You're still denying it but you can't help but notice little things about your body that changed. Your back is one thing.

Once you've caught your breath, you realize what's in front of you. You ended up in a little square and in the middle of the square, there is a giant golden All Might statue. You almost burst out laughing. I forgot they have these in Japan. They really do worship him, you think to yourself. It's really comical to you. How the people of Japan look up to him like he's a god that became human. It's probably you know that he is in fact very human.

In contrast to everybody else, you know what his hair looked like in the morning. You know how the skin on top of hot milk makes him gag. How he laughs at his own burps. How his face looks like when he's intimate with someone. You know how he cries.

~*~*~*~ *~*

Twenty years ago, Japan.

„Y-y/n... I don't know what to say.“

You stare past his face. You look at the rising sun behind the skyline that can be seen from Tashinor's apartment. You can't look at him. Tears are already about to spill out of your eyes. You know there's no stopping if you look at him now.

You feel his large hand brushing your arm. „Say something.“, he begs. You can hear his own tears in his voice.

You feel the water in your eyes overflowing. Quickly you turn around so that he doesn't see. „What do you want me to say? We've argued all night. I think everything has been said.“, you point out.

There's silence behind you. You can hear him sigh. Now he's probably brushing his hand over his face. He always does this when he's stressed or upset.

„I love you.“, he says quietly. You let out a choked laugh.

„Not enough, apparently.“, you tell him. It drips in a harsh bitterness that's rarely in your mouth.

„Don't be like that.“, Toshinoris says pointedly. He almost sounds annoyed. It makes you angry. You twirl around.

„Like what? Hurt?“, you say sharply. You don't mean to attack him. You don't mean to start arguing again. You've been at it all night. Both of you know that there is no room for conversation anymore. However, no one is ready to let it rest. Because you probably know that the decision's made and if you go now, nothing will ever be the same anymore. To keep arguing right now is to keep holding on for a little while longer.

„I don't want to hurt you.“, he says quietly. You sigh. You look at him defeatedly.

„I know.“, you whisper back at him. He takes a step closer to you and engulfs you in a big hug.

„I know no words I can say can make it better. You're right. I hurt you. I choose my career over you. I know it's unfair and cruel of me but you also need to understand that my hands are tied. I can't back out now. I've come too far and too many people rely on me.“, he tells you.

You press your face into his chest. You don't want to hear this. You know this. There is no need to repeat it again.

„Hey, look at me.“, Toshinori says and puts his index finger under your chin making you raise your head. You look at him with teary eyes. His heart aches to see you like this.

The two of you have been sneaking around for almost a year now. Given the nature of his job, he's never been one for serious, long-term relationships. This is the longest he's ever been with someone before. His mind is made up but it doesn't mean he's happy about it.

He loves you, he really does. It's like he didn't realize just how much he loves you until he was about to end it. Kanno's been putting pressure on him ever since finding out and after you've been almost caught by paparazzi last week, he knows it's time.

Gently, he brushes his hand through your hair. He leans forward and presses a soft kiss onto your forehead. You feel yourself melt against him. It's like you can't stay angry at him. He pushes his hand deeper into your hair, scratching the skin lightly. Meanwhile, he pushes your chin further up and meets your lips in a soaring kiss.

You kiss each other hungrily. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around Toshinori's neck. Toshinori's hand wanders down to your hip and pulls it against his own. You almost groan into the kiss.

You need to stop. This won't be good for either of you. You try pushing him away but he's bigger and stronger than you and his lips are so, so soft on yours. It won't take long until you give in to him. You always do.

It's probably why you also gave into continuing to work for him in America. That and the prospect of someday. That someday you can transfer back to Japan. That someday, when the buzz around him slows down and he can come back to you.

It's just that that day never came.

~*~*~*~ *~*

The present day, Japan.

Your eyes still get glossy when you think about that night. Embarrassed, you wipe ferociously at your eyes. How silly, you haven't seen that man in twenty years. You don't even know what kind of person he is today.

Of course, you've seen the fight at Kamino Ward. Actually, because of the time difference you didn't see it live. You saw the news after you had woken up and then spent the next hour in front of your screen. You were late for work that morning.

It was heartbreaking to watch. You remember being shocked to see him like that on your phone in the dusk light of your bedroom. It was what everybody talked about at the office that day. Everybody was shocked. People were worried about the security and stability of Japan. Meanwhile, you were worried about the man you once loved.

You assumed Toshinori eventually would have to retire. Eventually, everyone gets old. You're surprised that he held onto his job for as long as he did. He did have some brutal fights during his career, they must've left some permanent damage.

You take a deep sigh. It's ridiculous how nostalgic this city makes you feel. It's been only one morning, you keep drifting off indulging in reminiscences. Suddenly, your stomach rumbles. Right, of course, that's why you went out in the first place. Also, you probably should get your groceries into a fridge soon.

Quickly, you look at your phone figuring out your route back home. You see Takeo sent you a message with a picture but you decide to open it once you're home. You just hope he didn't manage to burn down his dorm already.

~*~*~*~ *~*

Japan, the same day.

After a longer way home than anticipated, you finally make it back. After a hearty meal, you finally check your son's message. It's a picture of him and his new roommate setting up a picnic on campus. You're sure they keep the alcohol bottles out of sight. You have to laugh and roll your eyes. You remember how it was for you to move into your first apartment. Unlike your son, you moved out of your parents' home only after you graduated from uni. You've missed out on a lot of things because of that. You've never had a roommate and your parents rarely let you go out to party.

You send your son a selfie of yourself in the middle of cardboxes to which he only responds 'Get to work, mom! ;)'. You sigh deeply and lock your phone. He's right, you need to tackle these boxes. Your new job starts on Monday and by then you'd like to be settled into your new home.

You start with the kitchen boxes first. In your head, they're the easiest to unpack. The layout of the kitchen kind of already tells you what goes where. You already dread the junk boxes in which all kinds of stuff are that have no real place. Considering your limited furniture, those will be the hardest to tidy up.

You try to get around these boxes by unpacking the bedroom and bathroom boxes next. You take your time with your clothes. You've already sorted through your clothes before you got here and you got rid of a great amount of them. You gave some old clothes you don't wear anymore to the charity shop. However, there are some clothes you can't get rid of. Like the T-shirt you gave birth into. Or that old blazer you wore to your interview at All Might's hero agency.

You can't help but to try on these random clothes. Before you know it you're standing in sweatpants, Takeo's birth T-shirt and the old blazer in front of your mirror. You almost laugh at how ridiculous that combination looks on you. Carefully, you stroke over the black fabric of your blazer thinking back to your interview that changed the course of your life.

~*~*~*~ *~*

Twenty-two years ago, Japan.

„So, Miss l/n, what would you say is your biggest weakness?“

Nervously, you shift in your seat. You really don't know how you ended up in this seat. Looking back at it, it was probably an act of rebellion. After your graduation, your father secured a job for you at his company. He didn't even bother to ask you whether or not you wanted to work for him. It made you mad. You tried to talk to him but he always just brushed you off.

Since he never gave you a real job offer and you never really accepted a job at his company or signed a contract, you took matters into your own hands. You applied to many different companies. Having a business administration degree, it was open to you in what kind of area and what kind of company you wanted to work for. You don't really know what you want to do with your life. So far, your life has been presented to you. Everything was planned and followed through. It's the first time in your life, you're deciding where things are going.

That being said, you applied to All Might's hero agency just because you could. You didn't really expect to hear back from them. Hundreds of well-educated people from Japan and abroad must've applied for this position. Then again, it was only an interview. One you didn't really prepare for since you did not take this application that seriously anyway.

„Miss l/n?“, the interviewer in front of you asks again.

You're ripped out of your thoughts.

„E-excuse me, I've been thinking about an appropriate answer.“, you tell them. You take a deep breath.

„In all honesty, I probably have a lot of weaknesses. I'm a perfectionist. I can't drop a project until it's not only done but done perfectly. That can be time-consuming and sometimes I get lost in details. I'm also a people pleaser. I don't like having conflict with others so I always try to avoid it or try to mediate if I get involved in it against my will.“, you tell the three interviewers in front of you.

The interviewers quickly scribble something in their notes. You're trying not to stare at their papers. You really want to know what they're writing down about you.

„Would you say that, despite these weaknesses, you're still able to stand your ground and make your opinion heard?“, the other interviewer asks.

„Well, it sure doesn't come naturally to me. However, I grew up in a family of businessmen. You learn from an early age to stay your ground.“, you tell them.

The third interviewer goes through your application portfolio.

„Right... you wrote that your father works in finances. I actually do recognize your name...“, the interviewer trails off. The other two take a look at your portfolio as well and exchange knowing looks.

You shift in your seat. You hoped this wouldn't come up. You wanted to get your first job due to your own skills and the impressions you leave behind. Not because of your family.

Luckily the interviewers don't dwell on this for long and continue with their standardized interview questions. You're glad when they're finally done. When they let you go and call in another candidate, the others, that are still waiting for their interview, start bombarding you with questions.

„How was it?“, „What kind of questions did they ask?“, „Is All Might there too?“

Your head is still swirling from the interview, so you give them some half-assed answers. Quickly you stumble towards the elevator and press the button energetically. The moment the doors open, you quickly scramble inside. You start going through your back trying to find your deodorant. You've sweat so much, other people must smell you from five meters away.

„Exciting day today?“, a voice says behind you.

Oh no. No. No. You must be kidding me!, you think to yourself. You turn around in slow motion and there he is. Standing in front of you in full size. He's a lot bigger than you remember.

„A-all Might...“, you stutter.

„Oh... wait! I never forget a face. We met before, didn't we?“, he says cheerily.

You feel cold sweat drip down your neck. Oh hell no, your potential new boss can't possibly remember the last time you saw him. You feel absolutely mortified. Meanwhile, All Might crooks his head and stares at you intensely.

„Oh, you must be mista-...“, you start but get interrupted by the much larger hero. He snaps his fingers and his eyes light up in recognition.

„Now, I know! You're the one who called me a cockroach!“, he says triumphantly. He grins and seems to be very pleased by the fact that he remembers you.

At the same time, you're face falls. Your mouth hangs open. Apparently, this is happening.

„I did not!!“, you exclaim before you can find a polite way to tell him he must confuse you with someone.

All Might snaps his fingers again and gives you another grin.

„So, it is you!“, he booms. You feel your face heat up.

„Sir, with all due respect, I did not call you a cockroach!“, you defend yourself. You really didn't.

„Oh, right, just my hair.“, he contemplates.

You're not sure what to say at that. He's right. You did say that. But to be fair it was during a very vulnerable moment. Your face must look like a tomato by now.

„I'm very sorry if that offended you. I didn't mean it in a demeaning way.“, you try to save your neck.

„So cockroaches are a good thing?“, he teases you. You think about that for a moment.

„W-well, they sure are a success of evolution. I mean nothing can kill these guys. So, in a way, they are like you...“, you trail off.

All Might gawks at you and you realize what you just said. Now you actually compared him to a cockroach.

„Y-you know, because no villain can defeat you...“, you add a bit more quiet. You look at your shoes embarrassedly. I guess there goes any chance of getting that job, you think.

Then, All Might lets out that gorgeous laugh again that you remember. And he can't seem to stop laughing. Embarrassed, you stand next to him. You're even more embarrassed when the elevator door opens again and one of the interviewers is standing in front of you.

You shrink under the man's gaze while All Might tries to catch his breath.

„All Might, has this woman been bothering you? I can assure you, we can exclude her from the ongoing applicant selection.“, the man says cooly.

All Might wipes the side of his face and turns to you. „You applied for the assistant position?“, he asks you. You can only nod at that. He turns back to the interviewer.

„Hire her, Kanno-san!“

~*~*~*~ *~*

The present day, Japan.

Eventually, you put your clothes away and start tackling those junk boxes that you've been avoiding all day. You manage to find a place for most things. Also, you christen your new junk drawer by shoving all things you don't find a new place for in said drawer.

Most of the boxes are empty now. You fold them and put them into the hallway so you can take them out tomorrow. The only boxes left now are the boxes filled with pictures. Carefully, you open the box. There are some picture frames you still need to hang on the wall. There's Takeo on his first day of kindergarten. There's you and Takeo under a Christmas tree in your house in America. And there's Takeo and you just a few months ago when he graduated high school.

Takeo graduated at the age of nineteen. He's been held back a year because his English was too bad. At least that's what his teachers told you. Of course, you spoke Japanese with him at home but you don't think that was the reason he was held back. The truth is that Takeo was a sensitive child. It didn't help that he was born without a quirk. It was an invitation to others to pick on him.

You remember that he cried a lot during his first year in school. Other children's quirks manifested already in kindergarten. During the first year of primary school, he still held onto hope that his quirk would present eventually. Still, he already got dubbed quirkless. He also was the only Asian kid in class. And the only kid with a single working mother. You got lucky and found a job quite fast after quitting All Might's agency. However, it required you to move to a suburban area. A lot of the other mothers lead a more traditional life with being married and having multiple kids. Also, most of them were white. So, similar to your son, you didn't make many friends.

People respected you since you had a job at a well-respected hero agency. You also tried to get involved in the local community. But it was hard to bond with the other women over mac and cheese and the Superbowl barbeque when you don't really care for American football or food that you never ate before coming to the USA.

It was hard on your son too. He tried to fit in. Tried to play with the other kids. However, he couldn't keep up with them when they had quirk competition or went to the park throwing baseballs with their dads.

It probably was during that first year of primary school when Takeo asked for the first time where his dad was because „I must have one“, as he put it. Of course, you knew this question would eventually come. However, you still weren't prepared. You gave him a speech on how sometimes things don't work out the way you want them to and that you're still very happy to be his mom.

Back then, that was enough. The conversation came up a couple of times later. Especially during his early teen years, these talks became more heated. Partly that was your fault because you gave only very vague answers about your son's origin. However, as he grew up, he must've accepted it or understood that his father's absence was not your choice.

After you've put up the picture frames, you send Takeo another picture of your now neat apartment. In response, he sends a picture of his dorm room which already looks like a mess. You roll your eyes before putting your phone away again.

Only then you notice how the sun already started to set. You sigh before getting up and cook yourself some dinner.

~*~*~*~ *~*

The present day, Japan, the other side of Musutafu.

Instant Ramen, once again.

Toshinori pours the hot water into the plastic pot. He really shouldn't eat this stuff anymore. Ever since his stomach injury, he has trouble digesting processed food. He can't help it though. He never learned how to cook healthy food for himself. And these days he's too tired to make anything else than something quick and easy. Toshinori sets a five-minute-timer before plopping down on his couch.

Staring at the ceiling, he massages his temples. It still feels unreal to him how quickly his body deteriorated. Only a couple of years ago, he handled a full schedule with no problems. Now, a mere day at school wears him down like this. He stares at the ceiling until the timer goes off.

He eats his ramen cup in front of the TV show. There aren't any shows that really interest him so he keeps skipping channels. After his dinner, he grades a few more papers and then goes to bed. Before the light's off, he scrolls through his phone a bit. With his private account, he follows young Midoriya. He likes a post of him and his classmates having a movie night in the dorms. He thinks back to his own school days. He remembers already being so focused on his hero career in High School that he only had a few friends during his time at school. The only time he truly enjoyed his youth was during his time in America. David introduced him to college life and made sure that Toshinori visited his fair share of frat parties.

Sometimes he wonders what it would've been like if he met you back then. When he wasn't already an established figure in the hero society. When he was just Toshinori most of the time. He could've gotten to know you as himself. It's not that you never got to know the real Toshinori. You did. Sometimes he thinks that you're the only one who got to know the real him after Shimura-sensei.

He closes social media and puts his phone on his nightstand. He turns on his uninjured side to sleep but he feels restless. After a couple of minutes, he gives up. It's something you always used to scold him for. „You're too impatient, Toshi. You need to give your body and mind to calm down a bit after a long day.“, you probably would say.

Toshinori gets up and walks over to his balcony. He pushes the sliding door open and takes in a breath of fresh night air. He steps outside barefoot. That's another thing y/n would scold me for, he thinks. He walks over to the railing. A soft breeze lifts up his shirt and he peers down the balcony into the dark void beneath. Only a few streetlights illuminate the empty street below. He leans back again and watches the skyline in front of him.

He remembers all the nights he couldn't sleep before. After a long villain fight when the adrenaline in his veins kept him from sleeping. Or after a big media event when his brain overflowed with impressions and thoughts and he just couldn't find any rest. There were nights that were easier to handle and those that were not. The easier ones usually were connected to you.

Part of him wished you were here right now. Joining him on the balcony only a few minutes after he slid out of bed. Wrapping your delicate arms around him from the back. Leaning your face against his back, softly whispering: „What's on your mind, Toshi?“.

He runs a hand through his hair. What is on his mind? He's not sure. Nothing out of the ordinary happened today. And yet, he feels so restless. Maybe it's because he's not used to this. This... calmness. All his life, there always was something. Even when there was nothing, he was on call just waiting for something to happen. And it always did. Now there really is nothing. No emergencies, no villains to fight, no nothing. Well, actually, that was all still happening but it's not like he could do anything about it. Not in his quirkless state. Which sucks even more. Seeing all the fights and emergencies on TV and not being able to do anything about it.

Toshinori shivers. It's getting cold outside and he's only wearing a thin pyjama. He takes a last look at the illuminated city before slipping back inside. Pulling on the curtains, he blends out the city and its villains, heroes and all emergencies that are not his responsibility anymore.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taglist: @heilene @w3bfr34k @bucinyohei @imagineshazamlokimight @dovey-quacks2332 @l-bozo-l @puppyteeth1994 @genyawritesshizz @luubzz @plantedskies @nerdygothzippermuffin @pluechy @

[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

#mha #mha toshinori #yagi toshinori #all might #all might imagine #all might x reader #all might x you #all might x y/n #toshinori yagi x reader #bnha toshinori #toshinori yagi imagine #toshinori yagi x y/n #bnha #my hero acadamy #boku no hero academia

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mosaickiwi · 8 months ago

Text

14DWY As a Drama AU

Hey remember when I said I’d post this in February oopsies!! (don’t ask me about demon!ren i will cry)

Open at your own risk this thing is LONG. Tried to give everyone at least a little something! upon putting this in my drafts i realized olivia exists i'll add her at some point uhhh. Also you can tell how much I love Elanor... hehe

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

The cult classic romantic thriller, 14 Days With You, is now a drama! Coming to all your favorite streaming platforms this summer. A whirlwind romance gone right and wrong that you DON’T want to miss.

Cast List

[REDACTED]

🖤 Quiet kid that used the after school theater program to delay returning home. Never wanted to perform, but loved doing costumes, make up, and correcting others (in his mind) on how to portray their roles.

🖤 Spent a little extra time perfecting the costumes of a certain someone who didn't even know they existed. He always traded house chores with his sister so she'd sit in the audience to solely film Tree #2's performance.

🖤 Was an apprentice special effects makeup artist after graduation at first, particularly for horror films, but it didn't exactly pay the bills when they left home.

🖤 Easily rose to the top in their acting career due to his dedication for crafting characters to perfection.

🖤 Dolly Parton/Lady Gaga-esque in their separation of work and life—completely unrecognizable in their regular civilian attire. Paparazzi have never gotten a picture of them in all their years trying.

🖤 Has zero issues getting into character, but does "method acting" on occasion to make sure people leave them alone on set. And also to fuck with directors and producers they don't like. Notoriously difficult to work with because of it + their overall attitude towards others, still gets hired somehow.

🖤 Got offered the role as the main love interest in 14DWY without an audition, thanks to a previous manipulative pink haired character he played in a film that ended up never being released. (2017 Ren because it's funny)

Angel (you!)

💜 Participated in the same after school theater program as [REDACTED] and Leon for a few semesters before you got bored of it. Curiosity for acting resurfaced later in life.

💜 Newbie actor at the recently formed talent agency of your friend. Only starred as non-speaking roles or background characters in small productions until the drama. You moved back to Corland Bay after uni for the better industry prospects.

💜 You initially auditioned for a very small role in the drama as an employee in a seaside shop at first, but somehow you wound up as the lead? (un)lucky you.

💜 Feel free to fill in the blank for any whys and hows you think of to fit your OC/self/sona as you so please <3

Elanor

💖 Normally an actress and casting director, first time as an executive producer for the drama. Dreams of bringing her own romantic screenplays to life. Hasn't quite proven herself the way she wants in the industry to feel confident enough in them.

💖 Catalyst for the drama being made. A "friend" mistakenly recommended the 14DWY book to her. She absolutely loathes all the psychological horror of it but sees the potential it has.

💖 Also the reason [REDACTED] was immediately cast, and you as well once she saw your chemistry with him while reading for a minor role. He hadn't shown a fraction of as much interest when reading lines with other potential candidates, so she decided to take the risk of an untested talent as the headliner.

💖 Refuses to use her family's name to get her stuff made. She wants her works to speak for themselves. Very picky about who she works with due to her family having hands in most of Corland's entertainment industry so she hardly gets a genuine interaction beyond ass-kissing.

💖 Always partial to working with Conan's small studio since he was the only director to give her any sort of criticism in spite of her family, as gentle and polite as it was. She still cried a little in the dressing room though.

💖 Genuine confusion when Conan wants her to act as both a producer and assist with direction. She only intended to bring it to his interest. But how could she say no to someone whose judgment and opinion she respects so much?

Conan

💖 Runs and owns a small scale studio in the Bay that seems to pick and choose its productions at random. It is in fact Alice sneaking into her dad's home office and putting scented stickers on the ones she likes. (She only reads the titles)

💖 Extremely proud of Elanor for getting so far on her own, and would take on one of her dozens of scripts no questions asked if she'd only work up the courage to show him one. So imagine his surprise when she comes to him with a romantic horror instead of one of the fairy tale romances he sees her scribbling notes on during breaks.

💖 While he’s the one with the final say, he does try to let Elanor have as much free reign as possible on the project in the hopes to boost her confidence.

Kiara

💖 A super-star actress and model that got her start in Corland’s local industry, but quickly hit it big.

💖 When she isn’t drowning in work, she’ll swing through town to check in on her sister.

💖 Desperately wants to star in one of Elanor’s productions, but respects her sister’s desire for independence. Though she does like to tease about certain casting decisions on the drama when made aware of them.

the rest of the cast are unfortunately very silly i couldn't resist

Moth

💖 Started a talent agency out of spite for the terrible castings in their favorite media. Got further invested upon realizing they could read the scripts before the movies or show adaptations were even announced.

💖 The one who pushed you to audition for a minor role in the production once the rumor about who was cast as the main love interest reaches them. They've heard all the horror stories about [REDACTED] so wanted the inside scoop. Horrified and fascinated to find out you get the lead role. It’s like watching a train wreck.

Leon

💖 Joined the theater program initially because of you, but got really into it. Moved away to attend a performing arts school until his mother got sick.

💖 Took every wacky infomercial or street performance gig he could find to pay the hospital bills until Teo found out and swooped in.

💖 Eternally grateful for the burden of financial ruin being relieved, so he always accepts the jobs Teo gets for him. He definitely won’t complain since he’s not dressed in an animal costume and shouting nonsensical slogans for cleaning products.

Teo

💖 Met Leon through a shared production and quickly bonded. Attended a different performing arts school and met Jae as a child.

💖 Almost the exact opposite of his game character purely for the funnies. Shy, introverted, can’t flirt to save his life. Still a nepo baby but he can hold his own in acting. Doesn’t like his character much, but is extremely jealous of the confidence he oozes.

💖 Leon and Jae are his only friends in the industry so he uses his sway to get them parts if they haven't already gotten a call back. Gets REALLY nervous on set for certain roles so he needs their support.

Jae

💖 Attended the same school as Teo when they were kids, and is constantly pitching intentionally bad ideas and joking on set to reassure his friend.

💖 A little bit of a thrill seeker, so does all his own small stunts if he thinks he’s capable. Stands there and gawks watching the more extreme stunts, loudest to clap when they go well.

💖 Kept bringing Maple to the shoots cause how could he even think about leaving her at home? She would occasionally break her leash and wander into a scene for head scratches and kisses. The film crew always booed when a PA came to take her off set.

Violet

💖 Completely terrible at caring for plants. Inspired by her role, she starts vlogging about her plant mom journey before shooting even begins. All her advice is completely wrong and terrible. Her personal assistant keeps her in the dark by tending to the plants themselves to fix her mistakes.

💖 Finds out she has a talent for flower arrangement, though. Does thank you vases for the cast and crew on all her future productions that last a lifetime because her PA made sure all the flowers were fake.

Exposition

(silly on set shenanigans)

🎬 Scenes get retaken quite a bit, since you’re still extremely new to it all. Most of the cast and crew expect anger out of [REDACTED] after the 4th call for a re-shoot on the first day’s library scene, but he’s surprisingly cracking jokes about his dye job and reassuring you that you’re doing great. The infamously ill-tempered actor is smiling somehow… even being patient? Not glaring down his co-star for minor slip ups? They cannot recognize this person.

🎬 Violet and [REDACTED] naturally butt heads on set. She respects their acting, not the actor. Zero hesitation to snap back if he’s getting snarky with a PA. You’re the one people have to beg to separate them, and you’re completely baffled that [REDACTED] doesn’t treat others as nicely as he treats you.

🎬 Even though Elanor is a nervous wreck about the first real thing to ultimately make or break her career, she’s scarily efficient on set—as long as no one distracts her. She does get sidetracked once in a while, only because she loves chatting and answering any questions the cast or crew might have. She even brings one of her own cats to set during a slower day to see if they can get along with Maple. Leaves Conan in charge when the horror scenes are being shot. They’re both put off by how vivid they feel, but Conan at least can grin and bear it.

🎬 You and Leon manage to catch up on set while [REDACTED] is otherwise occupied shooting said horror scenes. You tease him about a few infomercials you saw when looking up his actor reel, and Leon teases you back about your unlucky streak of being a tree or a rock in every play the theater program put on when y’all were younger. Laughs even harder once he finds out your most prominent roles until then were “unnamed zombie #5 at the bottom of the pile” and “sleeping train passenger.”

🎬 Try as he might, [REDACTED] doesn’t convince Elanor to change up a few crucial parts of the script for his benefit. His offhand threats of leaving the production fall on deaf ears, as she is all too happy to do re-shoots to make Teo the lead. His innocent hints to you about the shoddy script fly over your head for some reason! You love how it's turning out, what does he mean?

🎬 Super shy Teo prefaces and warns his co-stars before acting in every scene of his character being excessively flirty. Most of the actors have worked with him at some point or another beforehand, so they let him go through his routine without issue. Some crew members love the whiplash of him switching between overly courteous and smarmy, others vastly prefer the flirty character and mourn the loss as production comes to a close.

The Build Up

📺 The higher ups pressure Violet to start a short-lived streaming career to boost interest, since she’s hopeless with plants. She amasses a cult following for her MMO reviews, blind raids on new patches, and her wild ride of a Minecraft playthrough. In the end she winds up preferring to play games off stream, but once in a blue moon she’ll do a first time raid stream so her more dedicated fans can join and watch her alliance get wiped. Creative trolling is highly encouraged.

📺 Teo, Jae, and Leon appear on a late night TV show for promotion. It was meant to be for Teo and [REDACTED] at first. (Where’s the leading lover? [REDACTED] refused all promo appearances or sit downs without you being involved in them.) The host plays a clip that Teo’s particularly embarrassed about, and he hides his face in shame when the crowd hoots and hollers praise about his portrayal.

📺 [REDACTED] comes across as doting and overprotective of you once you’re pushed into the spotlight of celebrity, and shows increasingly concerning behaviors as the premiere looms closer. Depending on your response, they’ll back off to a point or dial it up. Interviewers and consumers mistake it as the eccentric actor’s “method acting” so the red flags just slide right past.

📺 Elanor and Conan guest star in a podcast for off-the-cuff romance enthusiasts. Their strangely cagey and joking comments like “there were so many retakes we couldn’t keep track of what was meant to be the actors messing around or part of the final cuts,” and “we’ve actually sent all the reviewers 1 of 14 versions with completely different endings,” leave listeners all the more curious to see the film.

The Climax

🎉 Reception is huge, in good ways for most. The majority of the cast see a surge in popularity if they didn’t already from the hype.

🎉 Teo bemoans his endless offerings for sarcastic pretty boy jobs, Leon makes enough to get picky about his roles (and pay Teo back), Jae somehow cons a studio into an action film starring Maple—and subsequently adopts every single one of her stunt doubles.

🎉 Moth throws the agency away to start adapting anime and manga themselves. Elanor finally feels validated enough to bring one of her romantic screenplays to the big screen, starring her sister Kiara and a very enthusiastic Violet as the leading couple.

🎉 Conan’s studio is overloaded with scripts, and Alice runs out of scented stickers that much quicker. They are severely backlogged send help.

🎉 One determined conspiracy theorist sets out to prove those missing 13 versions of the ending are real, based on minor cuts and inconsistencies purposefully left in the public release.

The End, Roll Credits

choose your own ending

Bad End 💔 - A Falling Star

💔 If you respond negatively to [REDACTED]’s demeanor during shoots and promo: he plays the waiting game, uses his connections and blackmail to make sure all your roles without his name attached don’t garner nearly as much attention as the ones where you’re co-stars.

💔 Your negotiating power quickly plummets as you fall out of demand and end up begging just for the non-speaking roles you once loathed.

💔 The careers of anyone you got close to on set fall apart much faster than yours, before they’re outright blacklisted in the industry.

💔 You begrudgingly call up your last option. He can’t do much for your friends, but their offer to help you make a comeback is always open.

Neutral End 💌 - Just One More Try

💌 If you respond indifferently to [REDACTED]’s demeanor: the drama leads to you getting more offers, though a handful are for playing opposite of [REDACTED], as the on-screen chemistry was too much for studios to ignore for cash grabs.

💌 Elanor has rid herself of the drama’s subsequent rights, despite positive reception, so a sequel sprouts up in the works at a different studio. One that doesn’t mind catering to the whims of their actors when it comes to script integrity.

💌 You arrive on the set to find that not just one, but all of your cast mates except for them were written to have much smaller parts in the sequel. In fact, you rarely find a scene in the revised script where [REDACTED] isn’t alongside you.

💌 Sadly the contract is air tight, just put up with it until it’s over… What’s this clause about further sequels?

Good End 💍 - Off Into the Sunset

💍 If you respond positively to [REDACTED]’s demeanor: you’ll sadly announce at the post premiere press conference that acting was a one-and-done adventure for you. Retired effective immediately, no farewell interviews.

💍 You’re spotted around town for a few weeks in a mask with a tall, darkly dressed companion at your side before you disappear from the public eye and Corland Bay all together.

💍 A few of your friends at least have an idea of where you are, and they meet up with you whenever you're in a nearby city. None of them can recognize the man glued to your side, though. Not that he'd say anything to clue them in.

💍 After months of near inactivity, [REDACTED] mysteriously deletes their socials without a word, sparking confusion and outrage among hardcore fans still desperately hoping for a sequel.

#14 days with you #14dwy #14dwy au #momo writing #wow look i posted not requested stuff #and it's NOT only emo boy??? wild #<- i am capable of this sometimes #wrote it in like 2 days back in november from brainrot ngl #and now it's here so it can stop haunting me!!!#i do wanna write little drabbles (mostly about angel's audition) but who knows if that'll happen #if u see issues bc of having to remove discord formatting no u didn't #AND if u saw this on discord b4 no u didn't #i wanna add river once he's in da game cause i have many ideas

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hearts4hughes · 8 months ago

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ECHOES OF LOVE | MARK ESTAPA

mark estapa x fem!reader

summary: in which reader confesses her love for her best friend— oops.

warnings: angst w/ happy ending, reader and mark both being blinded by love, nothing else!!

author note: my first writing after what feels like forever. oh my goddddd!! i have months of ideas and thoughts for more writings on the way. i haven’t done first person writing in forever, but i honestly love it!!

The University of Michigan had been my dream school since freshman orientation; Umich felt made for me. Yet, it wasn’t the only thing capturing my heart during those college years. Environmental Science class introduced me to Mark, and it wasn’t just about the subject matter. Mark, a walking ray of sunshine, entered a room like a force of nature, captivating everyone with his vibrant energy. Engaging conversations and lively class discussions made Mark the embodiment of an unforgettable college experience. It only took him two classes to claim the seat next to me, uninvited but eventually charming his way into my world.

Amidst my journey at Umich and with Mark, an opportunity to study abroad in Italy emerged. Excitement coursed through my veins, but it was tinged with a bittersweet undercurrent. Studying abroad meant a semester without seeing Mark, and my heart ached at the realization. The palpable truth lingered—I had feelings for him.

The day before leaving for Italy was spent entirely with Mark. We recounted memories, gossiped, and held each other. An emotional undercurrent hinted at something more than platonic love. In a moment of uncertainty and sadness, I confessed my love for Mark. The silence that followed my confession echoed in my ears as he stared at me with wide eyes. I had read the situation wrong, and tears brimmed in my eyes as I stormed out of his dorm.

The next morning, I vowed to leave the hurt and agony in Michigan and treat Italy as a fresh start. Italy became a sanctuary, a place where I could do as I pleased without worrying about the boy who rejected my love proposal. Now, sitting in the small, claustrophobic plane, dread overshadowed my return to the real world. Thoughts of making a scene to ground the plane lingered, as four months of studying abroad in Italy felt like pure bliss—warm weather, Italian boys, and zero drama. However, the sweet sounds of Taylor Swift couldn’t coax the cacophony of my racing thoughts. How to make a 12-hour flight even longer?

MARK: Hope Italy treated you well. We need to talk.

My hands trembled as I reread the message, the digital words carrying a weight that mirrored the turbulence within me. The plane had landed mere minutes ago, and as much as I dreaded my return to Michigan, a strange sense of comfort enveloped me the moment I stepped off the aircraft. As I navigated through the airport’s hustle, Mark’s message echoed in my mind, creating a symphony of worry and anticipation.

The journey from the airport to my dorm was a blur, the cityscape outside the window a mere backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts in my head. The prospect of facing Mark, unresolved emotions lingering like a specter, fueled a mixture of anxiety and a glimmer of hope.

He wants to let me know how he feels. Is that good or bad? What if he found someone else? What if he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore? What if… I mentally stop myself from spiraling down that certain rabbit hole.

With a heavy heart, I approached my dorm building. The door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit room adorned with posters and decorations. The message from Mark burned brightly on my phone, demanding acknowledgment. The empty bed next to mine indicated my roommate Miley’s absence. As much as I missed her, part of me was relieved to be alone. I read the note on my desk written in her neat handwriting. She wouldn’t be home for the rest of the night. Good.

MARK: Where are you? We need to talk.

The urgency in his words heightened the tension, and I hesitated, almost responding, but I couldn't muster up the courage to press send.

MARK: Y/N, if you're trying to ghost me, at least turn your read receipts off.

Shit. I silently cursed the advanced technology of iPhones.

Y/N: What do you want, Mark?

MARK: To talk, we need to talk.

Y/N: Oh, now you want to talk. Seems convenient.

MARK: I'm serious, Y/N.

I scoffed as I read his final text message. Who's he to say when I need to talk to him? I could ignore him for the rest of my life, and it wouldn't even bother me—scratch that; I'd miss him more and more every day.

Y/N: Fine. Let's meet at Logan’s around 7:00.

Y/N: Seriously, Mark, don't make me waste my time.

I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease that settled in my stomach. Logan’s, the pizza place around the corner, wasn’t fancy, but it held a certain charm. Memories of late-night pizza runs with Mark flooded my mind.

I grab my phone, checking the time for the fifth time in ten minutes. Everything feels wrong, from the headache-inducing bright lights to the fact that Mark is ten minutes late. The air inside Logan’s is thick with anticipation, and I can’t escape the nagging thoughts that something significant is about to happen.

The door chimes as Mark finally enters, a disheveled look on his face. I try to read his expression, but his eyes remain elusive. We exchange awkward greetings, and the atmosphere tightens with every passing second.

“Hi,” Mark says, gesturing to an empty booth. The weight of his words hangs in the air as I comply. The vinyl seats are cold against my skin, and the tension in the room is palpable.

Mark fidgets with his hands, avoiding eye contact. I want to break the silence, to demand answers, but fear keeps me silent. Finally, he takes a deep breath, meeting my gaze.

“I didn’t handle your confession well,” he admits, his voice strained. “I panicked, and I’m sorry.”

His words hang in the air, and my heart races with a mix of relief and frustration. The apology doesn’t erase the hurt, but it opens a door to understanding.

“Mark, I know what I did was stupid. I ruined a perfectly fine friendship for my selfish feelings,” I sighed, shame laced my words.

“Y/N,”

“No, Mark,” I interrupted. “You don’t need to pity me, I get it.”

“Wait, let me finish.” He spoke, reaching over and grabbing my hands in his. “Y/N, I didn’t handle what you said well because I was scared. I was scared because I’ve never felt so much for a person.” He huffs, eyes filled with sincerity and care. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you. I can’t even put into words how you make me feel. These four months without you have been pure torture. Ask any of the boys, I’ve been a complete and utter mess.”

His admission hangs in the air, and I feel a whirlwind of emotions—shock, joy, and a lingering sense of pain. The rollercoaster of feelings leaves me momentarily speechless.

“Mark, why didn’t you say something before I left for Italy?” I finally manage to utter, my voice a mix of vulnerability and frustration.

“I was scared too, Y/N. Scared that you wouldn’t feel the same way or that it would ruin our friendship,” Mark explains, his gaze unwavering. “But the truth is, I can’t imagine my life without you. I couldn’t let this continue without being honest about my feelings.”

“Mark, I… I don’t know what to say,” I admit, still processing the whirlwind of emotions. “I thought you hated me.”

“I could never hate you, Y/N/N,” he brought his hand up to your face, caressing your cheek. “I’m stuck with you forever, whether you like it or not.”

I giggled, tears of joy spilling over and flooding my face. “I like that idea.”

#hearts4hughes #nora’s writings 💐#mark estapa x reader #mark estapa #umich hockey #mark estapa imagine

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panda-writes-kpop · 2 months ago

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I'll only stay with you one more night ~ j. hjn.

a/n: two weeks between posts will probably become the new normal as I struggle through this semester 😭 don't worry, school's going fine, I'm just busy as hell right now with work, school, and familial obligations. So don't worry if there's a week or two between uploads, I'm totally fine!! 🫶

tw: a bit pg-13 with some of the description (my bad yall, i just want to make out with jeon heejin y'know), mention of booze, reader is a romantic yet a bit depressed but we love them for it ❤️

summary: a precarious dance between you and heejin threatens to end as she lures you into her thralls yet again, but you won't break this new normal between the two of you. neither will she, so you're stuck in this limbo of 'not-quite-friends-but-not-quite-lovers'.

♡ Masterlist ♡

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Jeon Heejin eyes you, warily, as you approach her in the kitchen.

“You thought parties weren’t my… thing?” She draws out the last word, inviting a rebuttal from you.

You’re too smart to take the obvious bait, but too stupid to leave the conversation alone in its entirety.

“Didn’t think you were one to shoot vodka straight.” You gesture to the red solo cup in her hand - you’re a foot away from her, but you can practically taste the liquor in the air.

The smell makes you wish that you had drank something before starting this conversation. It’d help you feel less bad about what happens afterward.

“Maybe I like the way it tastes.” She teases before lifting the cup to her lips.

You’d almost believe her, if you didn’t know her so well, but the ghastly grimace on her face gives away her true thoughts about the drink.

“No person drinks vodka because they like the taste. What’s on your mind, Little Miss Perfect?”

Heejin scowls at the nickname - a long standing tradition between the two of you. You’d call her a role model or a perfect princess, and she’d respond by calling you a jackass or rolling her eyes at you.

Two people, perfectly molded to be each other’s opposite.

So why are you here, at this party, with her of all people?

“Would you believe me if I told you?”

“No,” Your response falls from your lips, immediately, and a teasing grin appears on your face, “but I’m willing to hear you out anyway.”

“You’re a liar.”

“It’s my charm, really.” You shrug before leaning against the fridge. “Are you in the mood for confessions or not?”

“Well…” She trails off, an unreadable expression on her face.

She leans against the counter after setting her drink aside. Her shirt lifts up, perfectly showing her well-defined body.

Why does she play this game with you, again and again? You’re both losers in the end.

Heejin is a perfect calamity of a woman - her eyes a whirlwind of emotions, a smile that is genuine but never quite reaches her eyes, her gestures as icy as they are warming.

You can’t tell if you want to slap or kiss that shit-eating grin off of her face.

And, based on your previous encounters with her, it’s most definitely going to be the latter option.

“Like what you see?” She winks at you before grabbing her drink again.

Her eyes study you, just as she studies her materials in class. Brutally methodical, looking for any errors or opportunities to pounce on.

She wants to lure you into her trap, into her clutches - you wanted her first, right?

“Fuck you.” The words would sound malicious coming from anyone else, but they’re oddly playful from your lips.

“You told me you wanted to know what’s on my mind…” Heejin strolls towards you with an unmistakable amount of confidence, the type that comes with experience.

She’s got you right where she wants you - as she does every time.

When she lands right in front of you, one of her hands lands on your abdomen. Heejin leans in close, close enough for only the two of you to hear.

“You. I’ve only had you on my mind, and it’s ruining my day.”

She leans back, a playful pout on her face.

A lioness with her prey in her claws - so much for her façade of innocence.

You should resist, push her hand away and let yourself get some air. Maybe it’s the booze in her breath that’s making you drunk, or maybe you’re just drunk on her.

Either way, that fleeting thought of rationality doesn’t seem to stop you from chasing Heejin’s lips as you kiss her with the pent-up frustration of her teasing.

Her hand leaves your chest as you place your hands on your lips - if you’re letting this happen, you may as well be in control of your actions.

You know you want this, as does she. You’re both just scared of the after.

The eternal after, the words you two should tell each other.

I love you. I miss you. I want you. I need you.

But you’re stuck in this charade, this mess where you push and pull against each other, hoping one will give before the other does.

Heejin’s too prideful, and you’re too resistant to the idea of “us”.

But you’re both content, especially as she pulls at your shirt for more as her lips continue to meet yours.

Why should you deny her of you, of the things that make you both content?

Maybe next time will be different.

It won’t be.

You know this.

She knows this.

Yet you’re still kissing her, and she’s still kissing you.

Forever in limbo.

Forever two souls together, but not quite intertwined.

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penvisions · 9 months ago

Text

garnish {office hours}

Paring: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (Formerly known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Busy with a new teaching schedule and a hectic holiday at the restaurant, Joel surprises you with a visit on campus.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: age gap (joel is mid to late 40's / reader is late 20's, early 30's), adult content, sexual content, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, reader is on birth control, creampie, dirty talk, secret sex, office sex, panties used as a gag (!!), hint of f! recieving oral, nipple play, rough joel, light dom / sub tones, joel's biceps and chest need their own warning, pretty much pwp, joel and reader are down bad for each other

A/N: whelp, i got totally taken hostage by these two and how desperate they are for each other. had a poll and everything organized for once but uh, i love them, posting this utter filth and then running away, never have i ever written anything so unhinged. so. oops, happy valentine's day, y'all! ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Your classes were back-to-back, tutoring sandwiched between. That didn’t leave you much time to feel like a human, let alone a woman. The last weeks have been a whirlwind of activity for you. A hectic first semester of teaching cresting and beginning to wind down in the face of finals and testing. Papers packed tightly into your bag, almost flowing forth from the binder in which they were encased. Pens scattered to the bottom of it, a collection of bobby pins, hair ties, an errant starburst candy and more than a few wrappers.

You were rushing to your assigned classroom, two floors down from where your new office was. The office was adorned with your name in glittering gold letters. A flutter in your chest each and every time you catch them in your sight. Joel had frowned when he saw them for the first time, lamenting that the dull brass of them didn’t suit you. The next time you found yourself retiring to the confines of the room, you had stopped so abruptly that the student following behind you had run straight into your back.

The shiny gold of the polished letters had taken you off guard, as had the note telling you he would be making dinner that night. Smiling to yourself as you recalled the memory of your first time together after getting back, you had nearly made him late for an inventory shift the next morning when you splayed out for him a second time.

The class went smoothly, Ellie asking so many insightful questions that the discussion ran well over the end of it. No one seemed to mind. Retreating back to your office for study hours, a smile gracing your lips. As soon as you pushed open the door, you could smell him. His woodsy cologne rich in the confines of the room. It was dizzying, the image he created as he leaned casually against the front of the desk, the crammed bookcase behind him and the plants you cared for. He was dressed casually. Though the way he crossed his arms allowed for the rolled-up sleeves of his button up to display his forearms and it downright erotic.

He cocked a brow up as you let out a dreamy sigh, the door clicking shut behind you. You could only stare as he pushed off from the sturdy piece of furniture and walked toward you. The bag hanging from your shoulder slipped to the floor with a thud as you unconsciously backed into the door. Wide eyes watching the way he got right up in your space, the way that his chest visible with the two top buttons undone, freckles and bronze skin begging to be nipped and licked. One of his wide palms came up to lift your chin, his dark eyes catching yours as a filthy smirk pulled up his lips.

You could feel it against your lips as he pressed them to you, the click of the lock being pushed by his other hand before it found your shoulder and guided you flush against the door. One of his legs nudged between your own, the dress you had worn hitching up as his knee rested up against your tingling core.

He pulled back as the whine you felt ghost between your lips sounded, hands reaching out to hold tight to his biceps.

“Gotta keep quiet, darlin’,” He whispered, voice raspy and pressed to your neck. “Don’t want your students to know what a naughty professor they’ve got.”

All you could do was nod as he licked a hot stripe up from your collarbone all the way to your jaw. His thigh pressing up, the front of your underwear completely damp from his sudden attention. He sunk his teeth into your jaw, soothing it with the heat of his tongue as you wriggled in his loose hold. The hand at your shoulder trailed down, thick fingers pulling at the sleeve of your dress as it went. You preened, his lips connecting harshly with yours, mouths open and seeking contact in every way possible. With a growl that sent shivers down your back, his other hand let go of your chin to pull the other sleeve down roughly, exposing your chest to the open air of the room. Your nipples perked at the cool air before large hands caressed them, thumbs stroking over them.

“Oooh, fuck.”

His fingers pinched at them, pulling slightly and your back arched at the pleasant sting that wound its way down to your core.

Gravity shifted as you were suddenly spinning, being corralled toward the desk and bent over it. Your hands flat against the surface, and your hips flush against the biting edge.

Breasts swinging with the motion, all you could do was lock you knees as you heard him quickly unfasten his belt behind you.

“Gonna wreck you, darlin’. Is that alright with you?” His hands glided over the backs of your legs, up your thighs and pushed the skirt of your dress up around your waist. You panted as words failed you, but you arched your back in an obvious response of his words, as if the answer would be anything other than god, please ,yes.

His fingers hooked over the band of your underwear and he dragged them down, groaning at the sight of your arousal making a slick trail that connected you to them. The edge of his nose ghosted over your backside as he leaned down to help you step out of them.

On his way back up, he nipped at the puffy outer lips of your cunt, eliciting a startled yelp.

“Ah, ah, what did I tell ya about being a good girl for me?”

“J-Joel, I can’t-“

He shushed you, the fabric of your drenched underwear gently pushed between your lips before his hands hooked around your hips and pushed you down onto the desk more fully.

“You can and you will.” He was suddenly pressed against you, the thick line of him dragged along your slick folds. Your moan muffled by the fabric pressed into your mouth seemed to do the trick as he lined himself up and moved a hand to your shoulder as leverage to push in.

You fluttered around his cock, body making room for him as he bottomed out. Your eyes rolled, the head of him pressed up right against the spot impossibly deep that made stars sparkle over your vision and pleasure sear through your nerves. The front of his thighs were hot as they pressed flush to the back of your own. The hand at your waist moving down to dip between your legs. A callous fingertip nudged you apart further and circled your clit before pinching it tight.

You tried to yelp, body clenching tight around him and legs shaking with the effort it was taking to hold yourself up against the barrage of pleasure that was cascading over you. White stars exploding before your eyes as tears welled up. Your hands scrambled for purchase, only finding the smooth surface of your desk.

Not giving you a moment to breath, Joel was pulling back, the drag of him delicious before he pounded back into you. He set a devastating pace, grunting as quietly as he could manage but nothing could hide the tell tale smack of skin meeting skin nor the squelching of your cunt around him. Pulling him back in the second he was pulled almost all the way out.

“C’mon, baby girl, you can take it, I know you can.” His voice was close, lips caressing your ear as he whispered to you, bent over you completely and pressing you to the top of the desk. The hard wood was an intense feeling against the hardness of your nipples, and you wanted to moan out for him to him, because of him. But you couldn’t. Fabric now completely damp between your lips, all you could do was let him make good on his promise and wreck you.

The new angle had the tip of his head kissing your cervix and you felt tears of pleasurable pain fall. The wire inside you taut and shaking as he moved against you again, again, again. His finger began to circle your bundle of nerves, pressing down and grinding.

You were cresting, riding the pleasure out high, high, high until it snapped and your entire body tensed underneath him. He grunted as he tried to keep thrusting, chasing his own high and prolonging yours, the clench of your cunt so tight around him it felt like he was being pushed out. White stars taking over your vision completely as he moved against you.

“Fuck me, you’re so god damn tight around me, baby girl.”

You could only groan out unintelligible as your legs began to shake, body spent with the force of your orgasm. He panted against you, lips pressing to the back of your shoulders, his forehead pressing heavily against them. His hips snapped a few more times with deliberate deep, hard motions before they began to stutter. His own release cresting over him before he was burrowing deep and filling you with the hot spurts that dribbled out where you were connected. Grunting at the feel of it so deep and filling you up you could only take it, but then again, you had been ever since getting back together with the devil of a man still pressed tightly against you.

“Naughty professor, indeed, letting me cum inside her. Can’t even hold it all, darlin’.” He pressed sucking kisses all along your back, slowly removing himself from between your legs to watch it drip out between your puffy folds. His fingers were pulling the drenched fabric from between your lips and allowing you to take a deep breath.

You lay still atop the desk, his hands trailing down your shoulders, the curves of your waist, the flare of your hips, before his fingers were spreading you open for him to see the mixture of you both gathered in your fluttering cunt. You moaned at the oversensitivity of two of his fingers pushing back in what had dared to dribble out and glisten on the soft inside skin of your thighs. The feeling of weightlessness overtaking you as your head became light and mind completely at ease by the mere thought of Joel.

“Did such a good job for me, baby girl.” You preened underneath the dirty praise falling from Joel’s lips, allowing him to begin to shift you around to face him and pull you flush against him. His lips crashed down onto yours and you parted them to allow his tongue to take whatever it wanted from you.

Leaning back, he held your spent body tight to him and brought his fingers up for you to lick unprompted. Moaning wantonly around the taste of you both collected along the thick digits.

“That’s a good girl, let me do whatever I want, huh?”

You hummed an affirmative around his fingers, letting them go with a pop.

His hands were gently, always so gentle after being rough, as he fixed your dress back the way it had been before his determined hands. He leaned down to peck a few more kisses to your lips, huffing out a chuckle when you chased after him, arms clinging tight around the back of his neck.

“Glad to have been able to catch ya, feel like I only see ya when you’re asleep next to me lately.” His hands fastened his pants and belt back up, tucking his softened member back into place with an endearing bend of his knees.

“I know, I’m so sorry, it’s just really-“ You leaned back to take in the whole of him, his slicked back curls still in place despite the rough activity, save for a single curl that fell over his forehead. You reached up and wrapped it around a finger, delighting in the softness of it.

“Not complaining, just miss ya is all.”

“Joel…”

“I’m real proud of you, darlin’.” He untangled from you, his hand coming up to tilt your chin for a final, parting kiss. He reached around you with the other, hands closing in around something atop the desk.

With a wink, he tucked the fabric of your underwear into his pocket and turned to the door.

“See ya tonight, was thinkin’ take out since I plan on revistin’ that pinching you seemed to really like.”

Heat crept up your neck and filled your cheeks as his lips quirked up and he was walking through the now open door. Gone in a breath, just as suddenly as he had appeared.

Silently thanking whatever being ruled the universe that no students had sought you out for tutoring, you made your way out of the office and onto your next class. The feeling of him lingering all over your body, the breeze wafting in through the open windows lining the halls cooling the heat of him still in between your legs.

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