#welcome to the playground follow me~

[maddisandy]

"Man i feel so bad choosing evil choices to get Astarion's approval!" thats just a lawful good skill issue i don't know what to tell you. alignment shift to something more fun like chaotic neutral be mean sometimes its okay its fun

[juniperskye]

That’ll Show Them.

Based on the following ask: 🥰 yay!! Okay. (Deep breath), so the idea was basically either preschool or elementary school setting. Hotch being a sexy single dad has most of the single (and not!) Moms drooling over him. Y/N or Reader is a single mom, not one of those drooling but definitely sees that he's attractive. But her kid (girl or boy) happens to quickly become Jack's BFF and this causes natural interactions and conversations between her and Hotch over the next few weeks which makes the other moms salty and jealous, and she overhears them at one point speculating that she probably told her kid to befriend Jack just so she could get closer to Hotch. I didn't really think of an ending for it but just had an idea of a scene where she's trying to remain calm and unaffected while overhearing them talking about her and giving side eye. Maybe Hotch hears it too and comes to her defense? Or makes them even saltier by asking her out in front of them? 😈 @nyxwolph thank you for requesting this! I did adjust a little bit, so I hope you like it!!

Aaron Hotchner x Single Mom! Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 3569

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, reader is a single mom, mention of divorce, school moms being shitty, mention of Hotch’s ex father-in-law being ill, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than being shorter than hotch, reader is mentioned/implied to own a shop (no details), gay best friend, Hotch starts work at 8am (idk what the BAU hours are lmao) let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

The moms were ruthless. You were barely three months into the school year and already you had been completely ostracized from the “mom group.” Part of you had assumed it was because the majority of these moms had all caught wind of your very public, messy divorce. The other part of you, however, knew that the main reason you’d been exiled was him.

Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner, as the other moms called him, had taken Ms. Jenson’s third grade class by storm. Meet the teacher night had been a frenzy of horny moms all praying their child ended up in the same class as Aaron’s son. There were hushed conversations and giggles, and hair flips all night long, you had felt bad for the teachers since their presentations had fallen second to the gossip travelling through the halls about the hot single dad.

“I heard he works for the FBI!”

“I heard he’s a widower. Could you even imagine?”

“Wow. He must be pretty amazing, a single dad and working for the FBI!”

“Can we be real for a moment and just admire how hot he is?”

“Did you see his hands?”

“Yes! Did you see his suit? I love a well-dressed man.”

They were vultures, every single one of them, and Aaron was their newest victim. He, of course, had been completely oblivious to the blatant flirting – he returned every advance they made with a kind smile or polite nod. And listen, you weren’t going to deny that Aaron was hot…you just weren’t trying to be like those other moms and gush about it at meet the teacher night.

Your being excluded by the class moms had only gotten worse since Jack and Millie had become friends. Millie had told you on the first day of school, that a boy had pushed her down on the playground, and before you could panic, she told you that a different boy…one named Jack…had helped her up. She said after that, they sat together at lunch and read aloud.

You could barely contain you excitement. Since the divorce, Millie had been having a tough time making friends – mainly because the moms told their kids to stay away. Your ex had been quite cozy with some of the moms at Millie’s last school and you had eventually found out he was sleeping with one of them. Once the divorce was finalized and you had full custody, you’d moved and that meant a new school for Millie.

Realistically that should’ve been the end of the drama, but it just so happens that the girl who your husband slept with…well her sister’s child was in the same class as Millie. He of course was the kid that pushed Millie down on the first day of school.

It shouldn’t have bothered you, their constant whispers…but it had you seething. This was an everyday occurrence now that you drove Jack home. The moms all waiting for dismissal engaging in hushed conversations about how desperate you must be.

“I bet she told her daughter to befriend his son.”

“What a sad way to get his attention.”

“Well, I mean, her ex did cheat…so she’s probably desperate.”

“She’s ridiculous if you ask me.”

This new development has begun exactly two weeks ago. Jack and Millie had been on their sixth playdate – this had been the first one Aaron had been able to host (due to work obvi) which had led to you staying and the two of you talking about how demanding his work schedule must be. He had told you it kept him pretty busy and that his sister-in-law had been extremely helpful, but with her father falling ill, she was growing increasingly busy.

“You know, I could drive Jack. If you’re comfortable with it.” You offered.

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you!” Aaron panicked.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t ask…I’m offering. I already have to drive to the school to get Millie, I could grab Jack and the two of them could hang out until you are off work. And if your sister-in-law ever can’t watch him while you’re away, know that I am more than willing.” You punctuated with a kind smile.

“What if I take them to school, I don’t need to be at work until eight, and then you could pick them up? That way it is even. Obviously when I’m out of town, which wouldn’t necessarily be possible, but I could coordinate with Jess and…” Aaron was spiraling.

“Aaron. If you want to take them to school when you’re in town, that would be great. That would allow me the time I need in the shop before opening. When you are out of town, if Jack is staying with me, I will take them to and from school – if he’s with Jess, she doesn’t have to worry about Millie okay?” You suggested.

“You’re a godsend. You know that?” Aaron said, a smile growing on his face.

“Yeah well, Jack has been an incredible friend to Millie, and I would love for them to spend more time together. Plus, the house has been so quiet and, I don’t know. It would be nice to have the kids there.” There was a slight cringe that was brought with the insinuation of your divorce.

“I appreciate it either way.” Aaron gently nudged your shoulder.

So, for the last two weeks, Aaron had been driving the kids to school and you had been picking them up. He shockingly had yet to be called on a case…but you knew it was only a matter of time.

Aaron was called away a few days later, he had let you know that Jess would be watching Jack. That had sent a tinge of pain right to your heart. In truth, you were attracted to Aaron, and the more time you spent with him, you were starting to fall for him. You tried not to focus too much on the fact that he’d sent Jack to stay with Jess…chalking up to the fact that Aaron probably didn’t want to burden you – even though he could never.

You didn’t hear from Aaron until nearly two weeks later.

A: Hey, we just got back from this case. I’ll pick Millie up in the morning for school. Are you good to pick up Jack after?

Y: Hey! Yeah I can pick them up tomorrow. I have to take Millie to get her cleats and shin guards for soccer, is it okay if Jack tags along?

A: I totally forgot soccer starts next weekend. If I sent some money in Jack’s backpack could you pick up his stuff too?

Y: Of course! Will you be late tomorrow?

A: Probably, after a case like this, there’s a lot of paperwork to be done. I will try to be there by 7pm if that’s okay.

Y: 7 is fine, we will get homework done and I will feed them and have Jack all ready for you!

A: Thank you. Seriously I don’t know what I’d do without you.

The next day you arrived at the school at 2:45 pm to pick up the kids. You parked your car like always and stood in wait with the other parents. You were checking your phone to see where the nearest sporting goods store was when one of the dads approached you.

“Hey, is Millie ready for soccer to start?”

“Oh, hey Scott! Yeah she is so excited! What about Macy?” You questioned.

“She’s nervous, but she told me she was glad Millie and Jack were playing too. Michael was really bummed that the girls weren’t in a class together this year.” Scott explained.

“I was too! How is Michael? We should all have dinner some time!” You suggested.

“He’s good, and I am sure he would love to have you and your new beau over for a meal – I will talk to him when we get home!” Scott beamed.

“New beau…what are you talking about? Do you mean Aaron? He and I, we’re not…” You stuttered.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay! You should be bragging to all those bitches that you bagged the hot DILF! Don’t let them spoil something good for you hon.” Scott gently squeezed your arm.

Just as you opened your mouth to reply, the kids came running out. Macy ran to hug her dad while Jack and Millie made their way to you. Both kids hugged you and then said their goodbyes to Macy. You moved to grab their hands and guide them to the car, but not without catching the glares from all the moms. They must’ve heard Scott and you talking…and while you and Aaron weren’t dating, it didn’t hurt to let them believe it for a bit.

After getting the kids soccer gear, you took them home and got them started on their homework and gave them some apple slices. You checked a few emails, changed the washer and dryer, and wrote up your grocery list in the meantime.

When they were done with their homework, you checked their work and then quizzed them on their spelling words. By then it was nearly 5:30 pm, you set the two of them up in the living room with a coloring book and some Legos while you got dinner started. You made some grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans – for the kids, you added some cheese to the potatoes and cut up the chicken – setting that on the table for them alongside a glass of chocolate milk.

“Kids, time for dinner!” You hollered.

“Coming mom!” Millie called.

You were about 10 minutes into dinner when a knock sounded from the front door. You excused yourself and walked over to let Aaron in.

“Hey, we were just having dinner, can I get you a plate?” You offered.

“Oh, as long as it’s not an imposition!” Aaron replied.

“Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you that it’s not an imposition. I like having you around.” You stopped abruptly, embarrassed that you’d let that slip. “I mean, you know, it’s nice that Millie and Jack are friends…I uh. I…”

“I know what you mean. And I like having you around too.” He said, finally stepping fully into the house.

Aaron placed a gentle hand on the small of your back to guide you toward the kitchen. You plated him up some food and he joined you at the table, sitting right beside you. You couldn’t help the growing heat that bloomed on your cheeks as his arm brushed against your own. The room was filled with the playful chatter of the eight-year-olds that sat across from you, giggles escaping them as they recounted the events of their day at school.

Glancing over, you noticed the joy radiating from Aaron’s expression. You hadn’t seen him this genuinely happy in all the time you’ve known him, and you wonder if it is because he doesn’t get to relax like this often. The thought allows your mind to drift even further – splaying images of cooking for the four of you all the time, of late nights cuddled with Aaron and even further into the future, welcoming a new child to the family you’ve curated…only it's all in your head.

“You alright?” Aaron whispers. His warm breath against your ear causes a chill to cascade across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, just lost in thought.”

“Hey mom, is Jack’s dad going to be my new dad?” Millie posed, causing you to choke on the bite of chicken you’d just taken.

“Woah, sweetheart you’re okay, just breathe!” Aaron patted your back gently. “Here, take a sip of water.”

Taking a swig, the chicken makes its way down. “Mills…baby where did you get that idea?”

“Well Rain said that his mom said that you were moving in on Jack’s dad, and I thought that if we were moving in, then that would make him my new dad!” Millie smiled.

It was Aaron who choked this time, only it was on his water, causing some of it to certainly escape through his nose. He pulled his napkin to his face as he coughed in an attempt to clear his airway.

“Aar…breathe.” You returned the favor of patting him gently on the back. “Are you okay?”

He answered with a nod and allowed a chuckle to escape his mouth before looking up to meet your gaze. Aaron wasn’t ignorant of the fact that the other moms had been eyeing him since the beginning of the year, he just hadn’t realized that they’d gone after you due to your budding closeness.

“Millie, Rain’s mom is just kidding. Jack’s dad and I are becoming good friends, like you and Jack, and they don’t like that, so they’re saying some not so nice things.” You explained.

“Oh…okay.” Millie said, a small pout gracing her features.

A pout that pulled on not only yours, but also Aaron’s heartstrings. He allowed himself a glance in your direction and took careful note of the hurt and disappointment that flashed across your own features briefly. Was it possible you felt more than you were letting on?

Six days later you received a call at four in the morning. It hadn’t been the thing to wake you up, but it came as a surprise, nonetheless.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I just got a call about a time sensitive case and Jess is dealing with her dad. Would you mind taking Jack while I am away?”

“Aaron, of course! Do you need me to come and get him?”

“No, I will get a bag together for him and drop him off on my way to the office. I am going to leave you with a key to my place just in case Jack needs anything. Thank you for doing this, seriously it means a lot.”

“It’s really not a problem, I will have a bed made up for him by the time you get here.”

“Thanks sweetheart, see you soon.”

With that, Aaron hung up, and for the second time you were taken by surprise at the pet name he so casually referred to you by. You had to remind yourself not to swoon. It wouldn’t do you any good to get into your thoughts about the meaning behind his slip of the tongue.

Jack Hotchner was the most wonderful child you have the privilege of knowing – aside from Millie of course. He was polite and he listened with no pushback. He helped Millie with her chores (cleaning up her toys and putting her clothes in the laundry basket), he didn’t complain, and he just exuded this kindness and joy that brought an extra bit of warmth to your home.

You could see Millie becoming attached and you feared her heart would break once Jack had to go back home. You only hoped that she’d understand that although Jack’s presence isn’t currently permanent, they’d still get to see each other all the time.

Jack stayed with you for five nights, Aaron surprised you all by showing up with a pizza on Saturday evening.

The three of you had been cuddled up on the couch watching Inside Out 2 when the doorbell rang. You shuffled over to the door in your sweats and fuzzy socks to see Aaron standing there in a quarter zip and jeans. Good God, he’s never looked so good.

“Aaron!” You couldn’t hide your excitement.

“Surprise! I brought pizza, I hope cheese is okay.” He inquired.

“Cheese is perfect.” You confirmed. “Kids, dinner is here!”

“Dad!”

Jack ran to embrace his father. Millie, however, stormed off to her room. You were quick to throw Aaron an apologetic glance, before following her down the hall.

“Mills…what’s wrong honey?”

Millie replied with a grumble in her pillow and a shake of her head.

“Baby, I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

“It’s not fair. Jack doesn’t have a mom, and I don’t have a dad. But when you and Mr. Aaron are together it feels like a normal family. How come you guys can’t just be together?” Millie cried.

“Oh, honey. It’s not that simple bug. Mr. Aaron, well he’s a busy man and I just…” You trailed off.

“Don’t you like him?”

“Mills, yeah I like him, but like I said, it’s not that simple. Even if he liked me back, that wouldn’t just make us a family, it would take some time for us to get serious and then we’d have to decide if that was the right step for us.”

“It is the right step! You guys like each other, and Jack and I get along…mommy it’s perfect! You could be Jack’s mom and Mr. Aaron could be my new dad.” Millie said matter-of-factly.

“Oh honey, is this about your dad?” You pulled Millie into a hug.

“No! He wasn’t nice to me like Mr. Aaron is. Mom I want Mr. Aaron to be my dad.” She whispered as tears stained her cheeks.

“I know honey, me too…me too.” You pressed a kiss to her head. “Baby lets go have some pizza and enjoy our time with Jack and Mr. Aaron, yeah?”

“Okay.”

That night, something shifted. Aaron and you had begun spending more time together, going to soccer practices and games together, taking the kids to the park, the movies, pottery painting places, dinner at your house, game night at his. Aaron had also exclusively been asking you to take Jack while he was away on cases – claiming Jess’ father was getting worse.

Two months passed like this, and things had started to feel very domestic. Millie was asking more and more about Jack being her brother and Aaron her father and you had to explain that even though they weren’t related, even by marriage, that friends could be considered family too.

Once again you were taking care of Jack while Aaron was out of town on a case, only this time it was a little different. Your car was in the shop, so Aaron had let you borrow his car, and today was the last day of school before winter break. The schoolyard was buzzing with anticipation of the final bell, parents were discussing their vacation plans with one another while waiting.

You has been talking to Scott and Michael when Becca approached you.

“You know, I think it’s a sick thing you’ve done, using your daughter to help you prey on a vulnerable man.” She hissed.

“Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?” You shot back.

“Aaron. You had Millie befriend Jack and for what so you could trick Aaron into going out with you? It’s truly despicable behavior. He’s a good man and he deserves someone who is genuine.” Becca spewed.

“I don’t know where you get off, talking to me like that, but I can assure you – ”

“Becca, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t speak to my girlfriend that way. She is the kindest most genuine person I have ever met, and every day she shows me how much she cares for and loves Jack and me. So back off, and maybe don’t speak on things you don’t know anything about.” Aaron bit as his arm snuck its way around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“I KNEW IT!” Scott shouted.

Becca stormed off with a huff and you turned around to see Aaron wearing a shit eating grin. You couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with disbelief at the fact that Aaron was here right now, he’d stuck up for you, and he’d called you his girlfriend. Yeah, you were fairly sure your brain had short circuited.

“Girlfriend?” Your gaze lifted to meet his.

“You know, I’d been meaning to ask.” He grinned down at you. “What do you say?”

“Yes! Of course!”

Aaron closed the gap between you and captured your lips in a kiss. All the while the moms scoffed and huffed in disbelief that you truly had taken Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner off the market. And before you had a chance to pull away, Jack and Millie came bounding over just in time to catch the last bit of your kiss.

“Does this mean Mr. Aaron can finally be my dad?” Millie asked.

Aaron leaned down to Millie’s level “Mills, I would love nothing more than to be your dad, but we have to take things slow okay? Your mom and I have a lot of grown-up decisions to make before that can happen, so I need you to be patient. Can you do that for me?”

“I can do that!”

You leaned down in front of Jack, wanting to ensure he’s included in all this. “What do you think Jack? Would you be okay with me and your dad being together? It means you and Millie will be together a lot more often.”

“Will you eventually be my mom then?”

“If your dad and I choose to get married eventually, then yeah, I’d be your stepmom.” You explained.

“I think you’d be a really good mom.” Jack wrapped his arms around you.

Aaron and you may have only just made things official, but in the last five or so months, you’d both fallen for each other. Sometimes, things are just right, and all the pieces fall into place naturally. And for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t wait to see where this leads.

[seafarersdream]

The Draconic | 18+ (Modern AU Aegon Targaryen x Y/N)

When you’re in London, The Draconic is the place to be. It’s only the hottest club in town, where the drinks are as fiery as the dragons they’re named after, owned by Aegon Targaryen, the self-proclaimed nightlife king. Enter Y/N, Helaena’s best friend, who somehow finds herself tagging along, knowing Helaena’s outings usually end with a story worth telling (or hiding).

TW // Explicit sexual content, profanities, rough sex, mild BDSM elements, substance use (alcohol), smoking.

The Draconic exudes an air of mystery and exclusivity, with its grand entrance flanked by imposing dragon sculptures and the soft glow of green and gold lights illuminating the facade.

Inside, sultry Bossa Nova music drifts through the air, mingling with the soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses. The main lounge is a spectacle of emerald and gold hues, with plush velvet seating and marble floors adorned with dragon motifs. Crystal chandeliers cast a shimmering light over the scene, creating an almost otherworldly ambiance.

At the center of the revelry, basking in the attention, stands Aegon Targaryen. He is every bit the king of this lavish domain, exuding confidence and charm as he mingles with the elite guests. His presence is magnetic, drawing eyes and whispers as he moves through the room, a glass of the finest bourbon in hand.

Y/N stood at the entrance of The Draconic, her eyes wide with awe as she took in the grandeur of the club. “Fuck me, this place is something else, Hel,” she muttered, her voice dripping with astonishment.

Helaena, with a cheeky grin, looped her arm through Y/N’s. “Told you, love. My brother couldn’t do subtle if it slapped him in the face.”

Y/N grinned. “Just promise me we won't end up in the tabloids... again.”

Helaena laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, darling, wherever Aegon goes, the cameras follow. It's like he's got his own bloody paparazzi fan club.”

Y/N snorted. “And it doesn’t help that your brother goes through London socialites faster than toilet paper in a public loo.”

Helaena rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. Last week, he was dating some heiress named Daphne. This week, it’s a Russian model called Tatiana. Next week, who knows? Perhaps the prime minister’s daughter.”

They made their way inside, the sultry Bossa Nova music wrapping around them like a velvet cloak. The air was perfumed with the scent of expensive cologne and the subtle, smoky undertone of fine cigars. As they passed through the grand foyer, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the dragon sculptures and the exquisite marble flooring.

“No phones allowed, remember,” Helaena reminded her, handing over their devices to the stern-looking security guard.

They entered the main lounge, and Y/N felt as if she'd stepped into another world. Patrons lounged on emerald green velvet seats, their conversations low and conspiratorial. The bar, a stunning creation of green onyx and gold, was the centerpiece of the room, with bartenders expertly mixing drinks for the elite clientele.

“There he is,” Helaena said, nudging Y/N. “Aegon.”

At the heart of the room, Aegon Targaryen commanded the space. His silver hair was slicked back, and his suit was tailored to perfection. He exuded an effortless charm, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips as he entertained his guests. The golden dragon pin on his lapel caught the light, a symbol of his dominion over this lavish playground.

“Come now, let's go say hi,” Helaena urged, dragging Y/N through the throng of people.

As they approached, Aegon’s eyes flicked towards them, a slow, calculating smile spreading across his face. “Sister! And this must be…?” he inquired, his voice smooth and welcoming, yet laced with a hint of something darker.

Y/N steeled herself, trying to exude confidence. “Y/N,” she introduced herself, noting that up close, Aegon was even more striking—his silver hair and lilac eyes giving him an almost ethereal allure.

“Ah, so this is the Y/N I’ve heard so much about,” Aegon said with a chuckle, his eyes lingering on her.

Helaena shot him a playful but warning glare. “Stop flirting with my best friend, Aegon. Go find another prey,” she quipped, though there was an edge to her tone that suggested she meant it.

Aegon chuckled lowly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I was merely admiring,” he said, his voice dripping with insincere innocence.

Helaena stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed Y/N's arm, dragging her toward the bar. “Come on, let’s get you something to drink.”

She ordered two Dragon Blood cocktails, which arrived looking unnervingly realistic, the deep red liquid swirling ominously in the glass.

Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes boring into the back of her head. She took a sip of her drink, trying to ignore the unease. But she had a pretty good guess as to who was responsible for the intense gaze.

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Y/N and Helaena were well into their cups, each clutching a glass of Dark Sister cocktail. The liquid inside was an enchanting, a sinister shade of dark red almost purple, flecked with silver specks that swirled hypnotically. The taste was a heady mix of pomegranate and absinthe, with a smoky undertone that left a tantalizing burn in its wake.

Surrounded by a veritable graveyard of empty glasses—was this their eighth drink? Eleventh? They’d lost count hours ago—the two friends were deep in a rambling conversation about Helaena’s eccentric family.

“I mean, can you believe it?” Helaena slurred, her cheeks flushed with a rosy glow. “Mum's dating Rhaenyra.”

Y/N nearly choked. “Rhaenyra? As in, your half-sister Rhaenyra? The one who also has kids with your uncle Daemon?”

Helaena giggled, nodding vigorously. “Tell me about it. Every time I turn around, there's another plot twist. Yes, that one! So now, technically, my mum is dating my half-sister. It’s like our family tree is a vine, just tangling and looping all over the place.”

Y/N burst into laughter, almost spilling her drink. “That’s bloody brilliant. Do they make you call her mum or sis?”

Helaena cackled, nearly tipping off her stool. “Oh, gods, it’s even worse. Mum’s taken to calling her Nyra in that sickeningly sweet voice. And don't get me started on the kids—Joffrey, my little nephew, is fucking confused on how to address Alicent, bless him.”

Y/N was in stitches, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t even—imagine the Christmas dinners!”

Helaena grinned, raising her glass. “Here’s to family. Because who needs enemies when you’ve got relatives like mine?”

They clinked their glasses, the liquid inside shimmering under the club's lights. Y/N leaned in conspiratorially. “So, what’s the deal with Aemond? I haven’t seen him in ages.”

Helaena chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, Aemond. He’s gone completely off the grid. Last I heard, he was up north in Stromness. When I spoke to him, he was convinced he’d found evidence of a kraken. Sent me a photo of some squiggly line in the water and everything.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t he a marine biologist or something?”

Helaena nodded, her grin widening. “Yeah, that’s the one. But he’s got this bizarre obsession with mythical creatures.”

Y/N laughed, this time spilling almost half of her drink. “Does he have a little notebook for his ‘discoveries’ too?”

Helaena snorted. “Oh, he’s got notebooks, alright. Filled with sketches of ‘sightings’ and elaborate plans to capture a sea serpent. We’re talking full-on mad scientist vibes.”

Y/N could hardly contain her amusement. “I can just picture him, all serious, scanning the horizon for a glimpse of a mythical beast. Does he ever actually do any real marine biology work?”

Helaena took another sip of her drink. “He does, but only when he’s not busy chasing legends. Last Christmas, he gave us all ‘Unseelie Repellent Spray.’ It was just water in a fancy bottle, but he was dead serious about it.”

Y/N shook her head in amusement. “Your family is a goldmine of entertainment, Hel. I don’t know how you keep up with it.”

Helaena shrugged, a playful smile on her lips. “It’s either laugh or cry, and I’d much rather laugh.

Suddenly, Helaena felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Oscar Tully standing there, his red, curly hair as wild as ever. His boyish face was littered with freckles, and he wore his signature lopsided grin.

“Oscar!” Helaena exclaimed, her eyes lighting up.

“Hel!” Oscar replied, matching her enthusiasm.

The breakup had been mutual, and they’d managed to stay on good terms. They launched into small talk, catching up on life since they last saw each other.

“So, how’s the trout farm going?” Helaena asked.

Oscar rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Swimmingly, thanks for asking. Someone’s got to keep the world supplied.”

Y/N watched the exchange with amusement.

Oscar turned to her with a grin. “Mind if I steal Hel away for a bit? I promise to return her in one piece.”

Y/N waved her hand dramatically. “Oh, by all means, take her.”

He offered his arm to Helaena with a playful bow. “Milady?”

Helaena rolled her eyes but took his arm. As Y/N watched them blend into the crowd, she decided she’d had enough alcohol for one night. She could bet everything she had that Helaena would come back as drunk as George IV.

Standing up, she stumbled a bit and decided to find a quieter place to collect her thoughts. She remembered spotting some private booths earlier, each with high-backed, gold-trimmed seats and curtains that could be drawn for privacy. Each booth had a unique dragon nameplate.

She randomly picked one marked “Sunfyre,” thinking it would be empty.

To her shock, inside she found Aegon reclined luxuriously on the plush seat, his suit jacket discarded and shirt unbuttoned. The stunning brunette was on her knees between his legs, her head bobbing rhythmically as she performed the act with evident expertise. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and Aegon’s hand was entangled in her locks, guiding her movements with a mixture of roughness and intensity.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she took in the scene, her breath catching in her throat. The woman’s lips glistened as they slid up and down Aegon’s cock, her hands working in tandem to heighten his pleasure. The air was thick with the sounds of their illicit encounter—the soft, wet noises of the brunette’s efforts and Aegon’s low, guttural groans of satisfaction.

His eyes were closed, his head tilted back against the booth, lost in the sensations. His grip on the brunette’s hair tightened as he pulled her closer, his hips thrusting slightly in response. But then, as if sensing the intrusion, he opened his eyes and locked onto Y/N’s stunned gaze.

For a moment, neither moved. Y/N stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest, unable to tear her eyes away from the intimate scene. Aegon’s expression shifted from pleasure to surprise.

Before he could say anything, Y/N snapped out of her stupor, spinning on her heel and practically fleeing from the booth. Her mind raced, the vivid image of Aegon seared into her memory. She needed a drink—something strong—to process what she had just witnessed. The night had taken an unexpected turn, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for where it was heading.

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Y/N ordered two of the strongest cocktails served at the bar. The bartender, with a knowing smile, brought her a pair of Death by Flames. She downed the first in one go, feeling the intense heat and smoky flavors hit her like a fiery wave, but realized nothing could erase the image of Aegon from her mind.

“Motherfucker,” she muttered, cursing at herself. “Why do I always have the shittiest luck in the entire country?”

Cursing under her breath, she berated herself and her rotten luck. With frustration bubbling up, she decided to make a beeline for the loo, hoping that a splash of cold water might help clear her head.

Y/N stumbled into the bathroom, taking in the dragon-shaped faucets and sinks made of green marble. Gold accents and dragon motifs were everywhere, maintaining the club’s theme. Soft, ambient lighting in shades of green and gold created a warm, inviting atmosphere, with hidden LED strips along the walls and floor adding subtle highlights that enhanced the overall ambiance without overpowering the space.

She splashed her face repeatedly with water, each splash accompanied by a string of colorful profanities. “Bloody hell, piss off, for fuck's sake!”

She glanced at her reflection, seeing the crazed look and blown pupils. “Great, now I look like I’m the one who just gave someone else a fucking blowjob,” she groaned.

She fumbled with her bag, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, hoping to calm her frayed nerves. As she lit up and took a deep drag, she caught her reflection again and decided it was time for a monologue, just to vent her frustration.

“Alright, Y/N, let’s have a little chat. What the actual fuck were you thinking? Did you honestly believe you’d find a quiet spot in a place called The Draconic? Clearly, you’ve lost the plot.”

She took another drag, pacing back and forth. “Oh, sure, let’s follow Helaena. What could possibly go wrong? Well, let me tell you, everything. First, you walk in on Aegon, the living embodiment of a Greek god getting a blow job from a woman who probably just stepped out of a lingerie commercial. And you? You're standing here, looking like you've just crawled out of a bloody coal mine. Fabulous.”

She paused, flicking ash into the sink. “Why, oh why, did I think coming to this club was a good idea? I’ve got Helaena’s ex chatting her up, and me, well, I’m left with the delightful mental image of Aegon’s magnificent cock. Just brilliant. What’s next? Is the bloody Kraken going to pop out of the toilet?”

Taking one last drag of her cigarette, she flicked it into the dragon-shaped ashtray with a flourish. “Right, Y/N. Time to pull yourself together, go back out there, and pretend you didn’t just have the most insane moment of your life. Maybe I’ll even find Helaena and we can laugh about this... in about ten years.”

With that, she took a deep breath, splashed her face one last time for good measure, and steeled herself.

It seemed the gods were laughing at her existence because Aegon is leaning casually against the wall outside, a cigarette dangling from his lips and that infuriating smirk plastered on his face.

“Why’d you leave, love? I was about to ask you to join,” he said cheekily.

“Fuck off, Aegon,” she muttered quietly, trying to sidestep him and avoid further embarrassment.

But Aegon moved to block her only path back to the main area. He stood there effectively cornering her.

“Come on, don't be like that,” Aegon teased, leaning closer. “It was just a bit of fun.”

Y/N glared at him, her nerves fraying even more. “Your idea of fun is a bloody nightmare for everyone else.”

Aegon chuckled, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “Oh, you wound me, beautiful. Can’t a man enjoy a bit of company in peace?”

Y/N sighed, looking at him with exasperation. “Look, I didn’t mean to walk in on you. It was pure accident.”

Aegon shrugged it off nonchalantly. “No need for apologies. But did you at least enjoy the show?”

Y/N’s cheeks reddened, her breaths coming raggedly. “I’ve seen better,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

Aegon looked at her, unimpressed, clearly not believing her. He took the cigarette from his lips and held it to her mouth so she could take a drag. She hesitated but then took a deep pull, the smoke burning her throat, but the distraction was welcome.

“So, where’s Helaena?” he asked, taking the cigarette back.

“She was whisked away by Oscar and hasn’t been seen since,” Y/N explained, still trying to compose herself.

Aegon raised an eyebrow. “Oscar, huh? Well, that explains a lot. Guess it’s just you and me then.”

Y/N sighed, feeling the massive amount of alcohol she had consumed catching up to her. Her head was starting to pound. “Can I have some water?” she asked, her voice a bit shaky.

Aegon’s smirk softened slightly, and he nodded. “Of course, love.” He placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her gently toward his private office.

The office was a stark contrast to the chaos outside, a sanctuary of dark leather and polished wood. Aegon motioned for her to sit on a leather sofa as he poured a glass of water from a crystal decanter.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her the glass. “Drink up.”

Y/N took the glass gratefully, drinking deeply, the cool water soothing her parched throat and clearing her head slightly. She glanced around the office, noting the various dragon-themed decorations.

“Thanks,” she said, setting the empty glass down on a nearby table.

Aegon leaned against his desk, watching her with amusement and. “Feeling better?”

“A bit,” she admitted, rubbing her temples. “This night has been... a lot.”

Aegon chuckled. “Welcome to The Draconic. It’s never boring, that’s for sure.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, despite everything. “You can say that again.”

Aegon’s grin widened. “Believe it or not, this is one of the tamer nights.”

Trying to be smooth, Y/N asked, “So, where’s your… friend or companion or whatever?”

Aegon shrugged nonchalantly. “Don’t know, don’t care,” he said, his grin turning slightly wicked.

Y/N bit her lip, trying hard to hide the growing wetness between her thighs as she watched him. There was something undeniably magnetic about Aegon, and despite her better judgment, she couldn’t help but feel drawn to him.

“Must be nice, having that kind of freedom,” she said, her voice a bit huskier than intended.

Aegon’s eyes darkened slightly, his gaze locking onto hers. “It has its perks,” he replied, his voice low.

Y/N felt her pulse quicken, the tension between them thickening. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “Well, thanks for the water. I should probably get back to Helaena.”

Aegon pushed himself off the desk and stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “Sure you don’t want to stick around a bit longer? I can be very entertaining.” he said, his voice dripping with suggestion. “Besides, Helaena is probably also occupied.”

He began to circle around her like a serpent, his eyes never leaving hers. Y/N shivered, feeling the intensity of his gaze and the heat of his proximity. The room seemed to close in around them.

Y/N breathed out quietly, her voice shaking. “I’m Helaena’s friend,” she said, more to convince herself than anyone else. “I shouldn’t be doing anything with her brother.”

Aegon put a hand under her chin, his finger tracing her lips as he whispered, “She doesn’t have to know.”

Y/N moved forward, their lips now almost touching. She could feel his breath, warm and intoxicating, mingling with hers. Her fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair, feeling the softness against her skin.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” she murmured, her voice barely audible, the words more for her own reassurance.

“As you say, love,” Aegon whispered back, his voice a seductive purr.

In an instant, they clashed into each other, their lips meeting in a rough, demanding kiss that felt like they were devouring each other. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them suspended in a moment of dangerous excitement. Their hands moved frantically, tugging at each other’s clothes with a desperate urgency. Y/N felt Aegon’s hands at her back, unzipping her dress, while she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, their mouths never breaking contact.

“Oh, God, Aegon,” she gasped between kisses, feeling his hands on her skin, the heat of his touch igniting something deep within her.

“Y/N,” he growled, his voice thick with desire.

The kiss deepened, becoming almost primal, as if they were trying to consume each other completely. Y/N’s dress fell to the floor, and she felt the cool air against her skin, contrasting sharply with the heat radiating between them. Aegon’s shirt joined her dress on the ground, followed by his belt and trousers. Her hands roamed over his bare chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath, as his fingers traced the curves of her body.

“Fuck,” Aegon muttered, his lips trailing down her neck, “you’re fit.”

Y/N gasped as his mouth moved lower, his hands gripping her hips with a possessive hunger. He kissed a path down her body, his breath hot against her skin. She shivered, feeling the intense pull of desire.

“Stop,” she managed to say, though her protest was weak. “You’re leaving marks.”

“Good,” Aegon murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. “I want everyone to know you’re mine tonight.”

Y/N shuddered as his mouth found her clit, his tongue teasing and sucking with expert precision. Her hands tangled in his hair, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. Aegon was relentless, his hunger evident in every movement.

“You arrogant bastard,” she gasped, her body betraying her as pleasure surged through her.

Aegon chuckled, the sound vibrating against her most sensitive spot. “So wet, darling, all for me, huh?” he taunted, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

His fingers joined the assault, thrusting inside her with a rhythm that had her seeing stars. Aegon was a god at this, his fingers curling just right while his tongue continued its relentless teasing. Y/N’s mewls turned into desperate cries, her body trembling under his assault.

“Mmm, you like that, don’t you?” he murmured against her clit, his tone a mix of degradation and praise. “Such a good girl, taking everything I give you.”

Her body arched, her hips moving instinctively to meet his fingers, the intensity of his touch driving her wild. “Aegon, please,” she whimpered, her voice barely a whisper.

“Begging already?” he smirked, increasing the pressure of his fingers. “Look at you, falling apart just for me.”

Y/N’s vision blurred, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. She was so close, the sensations overwhelming her. His mouth never let up, his tongue a constant source of exquisite torture.

“Come on, love,” he urged, his voice husky with desire. “Let go for me.”

With a final, intense suck and a twist of his fingers, Y/N’s world shattered. Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she squirted hard, her juices soaking Aegon’s hand and mouth.

“Shit, love,” Aegon groaned, his eyes dark with lust as he watched her. “That’s fucking hot.”

He didn’t stop, drawing out her orgasm with gentle licks and caresses. Y/N’s body trembled, her mind barely able to process the overwhelming pleasure.

As the waves of her climax slowly subsided, she collapsed back, breathless and spent. Aegon moved up, his lips brushing against hers in a possessive kiss.

“I could watch you come like that all night.”

Y/N could only nod weakly, her body still trembling, as she tried to catch her breath.

Aegon began pumping his cock, his hand moving in smooth, practiced strokes. Pre-cum was already leaking from the tip, his veins throbbing with need. He sat down and guided her to straddle him. As she settled on top of him, Y/N noticed a strategically placed mirror, reflecting their entwined bodies clearly.

Aegon’s eyes darkened with a primal hunger. “Ride me, love,” he commanded, his voice low and rough.

Y/N positioned herself over him, her hands on his shoulders for balance, and slowly lowered herself onto his throbbing cock. The sensation was intense, both of them groaning as he filled her completely. She began to move, bouncing expertly, the squelching sounds echoing in the room.

“Fuck, you ride like a slut,” Aegon taunted, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. “So wet and desperate for me.”

Her eyes caught the mirror again, watching as she rode him with wild abandon. The sight was incredibly arousing. Aegon’s fingers wrapped around her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp.

“You like that, don’t you?” he taunted, his grip tightening slightly. “You like being fucked like this.”

Y/N’s moans were half-choked, her eyes rolling back as the pressure on her throat intensified the pleasure. “Yes,” she gasped out, her voice strained. “I love it.”

Aegon’s eyes were locked on where their bodies met, watching as her cream formed a white ring at the base of his cock. “Look at that,” he said as he tuts at her. “You’re making such a mess, love.”

Y/N’s body responded to his words, her movements becoming more frantic. She was riding him hard, her nails digging into his backs, leaving marks of her own.

Aegon groaned, his grip tightening as he felt her walls clench around him. “That’s it, love,” he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. “Just like that.”

“Aegon, I’m so close,” she moaned, her body trembling with the impending climax.

“Come for me, Y/N,” he commanded, his voice full of raw desire. “I want to feel you.”

With a final, desperate bounce, Y/N’s body convulsed, her orgasm ripping through her with such force that she squirted again, much to Aegon’s delight. He watched with a mixture of pride and lust as she trembled above him. His own release followed closely, exploding inside her and painting her insides with his cum.

The room reeked of sex, the intense scent of their passion filling the air. Aegon held her close, their bodies still entwined, his hands moving gently over her back as he rubbed her hair, soothing the aftermath. They stayed like that for a moment, their breaths mingling, gradually slowing down.

Y/N’s pussy was overstimulated, every slight movement sending tremors through her body. She trembled uncontrollably, her muscles twitching with the aftershocks of their intense lovemaking.

Aegon held her close, his voice a soothing whisper in her ear. “You did so well for me, darling,” he murmured, his tone filled with both admiration and tenderness.

He shifted slightly, still inside her, causing her to gasp as another wave of sensation coursed through her. “Fuck, love,” he continued, his breath hot against her ear. “How am I supposed to not crave your cunt after this?”

Y/N could only manage a weak smile, her body still recovering from the overwhelming pleasure. She leaned into his touch, finding comfort in his arms.

Aegon’s fingers continued to trace soothing patterns on her skin, his breath warm against her ear. “You’re amazing,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “Absolutely fucking amazing.”

They shared a tender kiss, a huge contrast to what had just transpired. Aegon’s lips were soft and gentle, offering a moment of intimacy that grounded them both.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, standing up carefully. He retrieved a warm, clean towel and returned to her side, gently cleaning the insides of her thighs. Y/N watched him fondly, her heart warming at the unexpected tenderness.

“What a gentleman,” she teased, her voice light with amusement.

Aegon winked at her. “Don’t tell anyone.”

After cleaning her up, he poured her a glass of cold water. “Drink up,” he said, handing it to her. “You need to stay hydrated.”

Y/N took the glass, sipping gratefully, still watching him with a smile. He then grabbed a spare shirt from a nearby drawer and slipped it over her head, his fingers lingering as he admired how it looked on her. The shirt was oversized, hanging loosely on her frame, but Aegon seemed to like it that way.

“Acting like a doting boyfriend now, are we?” Y/N teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

Aegon smirked, adjusting the shirt on her shoulders. “I knew this shirt would look fantastic on you, and I was right.”

“Oh? Well, in that case, I might as well keep it then.”

Aegon chuckled. “You’ll have to earn it, love.”

She grinned, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “Consider it a down payment.”

Aegon laughed, pulling her closer. “You drive a hard bargain.”

Y/N laughed along with him, feeling a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the afterglow of their encounter. “I’ll take my chances.”

Aegon grinned, leaning in to kiss her again. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

Y/N kissed him deeply, their lips melding with a renewed passion. His hands found their way to her arse, gripping it firmly as he pulled her closer.

But then the door flew open, and Helaena stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock. “Oh great, I’m forever traumatized,” she exclaimed, a scandalized gasp escaping her lips.

The evidence of their encounter was plain as day. The whole room reeked of sex, and there were suspicious liquid remains on the floor.

“Really? In my brother’s office?” Helaena berated, her hands on her hips.

Y/N’s face turned crimson, and she tried to hide her face in Aegon’s shoulder, mortified. Aegon, however, was laughing shamelessly.

“Oh, come on, Hel,” Aegon said. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

Helaena’s eyes narrowed as she glared at both of them. “Dramatic? The room smells like a brothel, and I just walked in on my brother groping my best friend!”

“You do have impeccable timing,” Aegon managed to say between laughs.

Y/N peeked out from behind Aegon, still embarrassed. “I… I can explain?”

Helaena rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, please don’t. I think the evidence speaks for itself.”

Aegon grinned, pulling Y/N closer. “Come on, Hel. You know you love us.”

Helaena shook her head, unable to suppress a smile despite her mock indignation. “You two are disgusting. Just… clean up after yourselves, will you?”

Y/N nodded vigorously, still trying to hide her face. “We will, promise.”

As Helaena left, muttering about needing eye bleach, Aegon and Y/N burst into laughter. Y/N shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “I guess I’m keeping this shirt after all.”

“Damn right you are,” Aegon said with a smile. He paused, looking at her thoughtfully. “So, when are you free?”

Y/N blinked, confused. “Free for what?”

Aegon rolled his eyes playfully. “I’m taking you out on a date, woman.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “A date? After all this?”

Aegon grinned, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Course, You’ve already seen the worst of me. Now please let me try to impress you properly.”

Y/N pretended to ponder this, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, let me think about it. I mean, you did just make a mess of the place, and you have a habit of getting caught in compromising positions...”

Aegon chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. “Oh, come on. You know you want to. Besides, how many people can say they had their first date after walking in on said person mid-blowjob?”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Alright, you’ve got a point there.”

She gave him a mock-serious look. “Okay, 5 PM next Friday, Targaryen. Don’t be late.”

Aegon pumps his fist in celebration. “I’ll be there on the dot, love. You just wait.”

“You know,” she said, looking up at him, “this has to be the strangest way I’ve ever agreed to a date.”

Aegon grinned. “Well, I’m nothing if not memorable.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her. “That you are.”

She took a deep breath and reluctantly stepped back from him. “I should go find Helaena and do some damage control before she decides to disown both of us.”

Aegon laughed, nodding. “Good idea. She’ll get over it… eventually.”

“Don’t be late,” she said with a playful smirk.

Aegon raised his hands in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t dare.”

With one last smile, Y/N turned and headed for the door.

[elryuse]

I'm sorry, Can I Be Yours

Winter X Male Reader

Tags : Childhood Friends, Friends To Lovers, Kiss, Teasing, Fluff, Virgin Sex, Creampie, Good Ending?

The School bell blared, jolting me out of my reverie. I scanned the emptying hallway, searching for Winter's familiar pearly blonde hair. My stomach clenched when I spotted her surrounded by her posse, their laughter echoing down the corridor. Winter, the girl who used to chase butterflies with me at recess, now seemed like a distant star, dazzling yet untouchable.

It wasn't always like this. Back in elementary school, Winter, or Minjeong as I called her then, was the new kid, a shy sparrow adrift in a sea of unfamiliar faces. I, the self-proclaimed schoolyard ambassador, had swooped in, determined to be her friend. We were an unlikely pair – me, the rambunctious chatterbox, and her, the quiet observer with eyes that held galaxies within them. But somehow, it clicked. We built sandcastles that defied the tide, shared scraped knees and ice cream cones, our laughter echoing through the playground.

High school, however, had cast a long shadow over our friendship. Winter blossomed into an ethereal beauty, her smile lighting up every room she entered. Admirers swarmed around her like bees to a rose, and her schedule became a whirlwind of student council meetings, dance practices, and social gatherings. I, on the other hand, remained comfortably obscure, content with the company of my camera and a well-worn book.

The distance wasn't physical, not yet. We still sat together at lunch, a forced routine amidst the chaos. But the easy conversations, the comfortable silences, those had become a distant memory. Now, an awkward tension hung between us, a chasm filled with unspoken words and longing glances that pierced my heart.

One afternoon, at the usual lunch table, Winter was surrounded by her usual crowd, their voices a flurry of excitement about the upcoming school festival. I stole a glance at her, my heart sinking at the coldness in her eyes, a stark contrast to the warmth that used to reside there.

"Hey, Winter," I began hesitantly, my voice barely a whisper above the din. "They were talking about volunteers for the photography booth at the festival. You know I take a decent picture or two."

A flicker of something, maybe annoyance, crossed her features before she schooled her expression into a polite smile.

"Oh, right," she said, her voice devoid of its usual enthusiasm. "Yeah, maybe you can help out. Hana mentioned you were good with that camera of yours."

The casual dismissal stung. Hana? We hadn't discussed the festival, and the way Winter phrased it made it seem like it was Hana's idea, not mine. I forced a smile, the bitterness clinging to my tongue.

"Sure," I mumbled, pushing my untouched lunch tray away. "Just let me know what needs to be done."

The rest of the lunch break passed in a blur of forced conversation and stolen glances. As the final bell rang, I gathered my things, the weight of our strained friendship heavy on my chest. Winter barely acknowledged me as she swept out of the classroom, leaving me adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Was this the end of our story? The question echoed in the empty classroom, a stark reminder of the distance that had grown between us.

The following week, a new face appeared in our homeroom class. A girl with long, flowing black hair and a face that could launch a thousand ships, but her posture screamed timidity. She shuffled in, her eyes downcast, avoiding eye contact with the sea of curious faces. The usual welcoming chatter died down, replaced by a tense silence.

As the teacher droned on about expectations and school policies, I couldn't help but steal glances at the new girl. Her name was Lee Seo-Ah, according to the attendance sheet. Unlike Winter, who captivated the room with her mere presence, Seo-Ah seemed to shrink into herself, disappearing into the background.

A pang of sympathy stabbed at my heart. I remembered all too well the awkwardness of being the new kid, the crushing loneliness of trying to navigate unfamiliar territory. Winter, once the shy newcomer, had effortlessly blossomed into the center of attention. Seo-Ah, on the other hand, seemed trapped in a shell of her own making.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of the class, the usual flurry of introductions and small talk began. But Seo-Ah remained isolated, a solitary island amidst a bustling sea. I couldn't just stand by and watch.

Taking a deep breath, I approached her desk, my heart pounding a nervous rhythm against my ribs. "Hi, I'm Y/n," I said, offering a friendly smile. "Welcome to our school."

Seo-Ah looked up, startled, her eyes wide and filled with a flicker of surprise. For a moment, she didn't speak, then a shy smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"H-hi," she finally mumbled, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm Seo-Ah. It's... nice to meet you."

Her shyness was endearing, a stark contrast to the usual boisterousness of the classroom. "Seems like you're new here," I continued, hoping to ease the tension. "Anything I can help you with?"

Seo-Ah hesitated, then bit her lip. "Well, I'm a bit lost. I don't know where my next class is."

Relief washed over me. "No problem at all. I have the same class next. Let me show you the way."

As we walked down the hallway, Seo-Ah spoke in hushed tones, her words punctuated by long pauses. She told me she was from Busan, a coastal city known for its seafood and beaches. She loved art, particularly painting, but was too shy to join any clubs.

I listened intently, offering words of encouragement and pointing out landmarks along the way. To my surprise, Seo-Ah slowly began to open up, her voice gaining a hint of confidence. By the time we reached her next class, a hesitant smile played on her lips.

"Thanks, Y/n," she said, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

"No worries at all," I replied, a genuine warmth spreading through my chest. "Welcome to the group, Seo-Ah."

Perhaps, in helping Seo-Ah find her way, I had also found a way to bridge the growing distance between myself and Winter. After all, kindness, like a pebble tossed into a still pond, could create ripples that reached far and wide.

A couple of weeks flew by in a whirlwind of activity. During lunch breaks, I found myself gravitating towards Seo-Ah, her infectious laugh and bubbly personality a welcome change from the strained atmosphere I shared with Winter. We'd discuss everything under the sun – from her passion for painting to the latest K-pop group she was obsessed with. Slowly, her shyness melted away, replaced by a comfortable openness.

One afternoon, at the usual lunch table, Winter caught me engrossed in a conversation with Seo-Ah. Her expression was unreadable, but a flicker of something, maybe jealousy, crossed her features for a fleeting moment before she masked it with a polite smile.

"Looks like you've made a new friend, Y/n," she said, her voice cool and detached.

"Y-yeah," I replied, trying to keep the awkwardness at bay. "Seo-Ah just transferred from Busan. We get along pretty well."

Winter simply nodded, her gaze lingering on Seo-Ah for a beat too long before she turned away to continue her conversation with Hana. The air crackled with unspoken tension, a stark contrast to the easy banter I shared with Seo-Ah.

During that week, I discovered another one of Seo-Ah's talents. While helping her unpack her art supplies after school, she pulled out a sketchbook filled with breathtaking landscapes and portraits. My jaw dropped in awe.

"Wow, Seo-Ah, these are amazing!" I exclaimed, flipping through the pages. "You're incredibly talented."

Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. "Thanks, Y/n. I actually joined the art club this week. They seemed really nice."

A surge of excitement coursed through me. "That's fantastic! Maybe we can even work on some projects together sometime. I'm in the photography club, and we're always looking for new angles and perspectives."

Her eyes lit up. "R-really? That sounds awesome!"

Over the next few days, Seo-Ah and I spent our free time bouncing ideas off each other. We'd discuss light and shadow, composition, and the emotions a photograph or painting could evoke. With her, there was none of the awkward silences or unspoken expectations that had infiltrated my relationship with Winter. It felt… easy, comfortable.

Meanwhile, the distance between Winter and me continued to widen. Our conversations were short and superficial, filled with long pauses and forced smiles. I missed our late-afternoon talks, the way we could just sit in comfortable silence, knowing each other's thoughts without needing to speak them. But Winter was a whirlwind of student council meetings and social gatherings now, leaving me feeling like an outsider peering into a world I no longer belonged to.

One Friday afternoon, while Seo-Ah and I were discussing camera settings in the library, Winter approached our table, her face etched with a forced smile.

"Hey, Y/n," she said, her voice clipped. "Just wanted to let you know there's a student council meeting this evening. You're… welcome to join."

Her words felt like an afterthought, an obligation rather than an invitation. Seo-Ah, sensing the tension, chimed in.

"Oh, a student council meeting? That sounds important. You should definitely go, Y/n."

Winter's smile faltered for a second, then she straightened her shoulders. "Yeah, sure," she said, her gaze flickering to Seo-Ah before darting away. "See you guys later."

As she walked away, a knot of frustration tightened in my stomach. Was I missing something here? Did Winter feel threatened by Seo-Ah's presence? Or was it simply a case of her being too busy with her own things to acknowledge our dwindling friendship?

Stepping into the student council meeting room felt like entering a different world. The air crackled with nervous energy, students flitting around finalizing decorations and posters. Minjeong, usually radiating icy efficiency, seemed to have a vibrant life of her own here. Her voice, sharp and clear as she addressed the room, held an undeniable power.

I found myself an empty chair at the back, feeling strangely out of place amidst all the organized chaos. The topic of the meeting – the upcoming school fireworks festival – was a whirlwind of budgets, logistics, and safety regulations. Hana, Minjeong's ever-reliable vice president, rattled off numbers with laser focus, while Minjeong herself managed the discussion with a firm but encouraging demeanor.

As the meeting progressed, I stole glances at Minjeong. The fierce, focused leader I witnessed was so different from the quiet girl who had been my best friend. A pang of longing crossed my chest for those simpler times. Then, our eyes met.

Caught off guard, Minjeong's gaze flickered for a moment before she looked away, a hint of pink dusting her cheeks. A shy smile tugged at the corner of her lips, a fleeting glimpse of the girl I knew beneath the student council president facade. The warmth of that smile sent a jolt through me. Was there still hope for us?

Suddenly, Hana's voice cut through my contemplation. "So, who's up for grabbing some pizza after this? We've still got hours of work to do before the week's out."

A chorus of groans and cheers filled the room. Minjeong chuckled, a soft sound that seemed foreign on her focused face. "Sounds good, Hana. But make it quick, alright? We don't want to be here all night."

As the meeting wrapped up, the room buzzed with newfound energy. Students piled into a corner, chatting excitedly about pizza toppings and movie plans. I hesitated, unsure of my place in this world.

"Y/n?" Minjeong's voice caught my attention. She stood at the front of the room, her gaze hesitant but inviting. "You coming to pizza night?"

The question hung in the air, a test of the fragile thread that still connected us. My heart pounded in my chest. This could be a step forward, a chance to bridge the gap that had grown between us. Or it could be a painful reminder of how far things had changed.

I looked at Minjeong, her eyes filled with a nervous anticipation that mirrored my own. Taking a deep breath, I offered a smile, the same shy smile we used to share in elementary school.

"Yeah," I replied, my voice a little rough around the edges. "I'd like that."

A genuine smile, bright and unreserved, broke across Minjeong's face. It was a small step, a single word in a long conversation, but for the first time in weeks, a flicker of hope ignited within me. Perhaps, amidst the chaos of student council meetings and new friendships, there was still a place for us, for the bond we once shared.

Stepping into the bustling pizza parlor, I was greeted by the aroma of melted cheese and bubbling tomato sauce. Minjeong's friends, a vibrant bunch I only recognized from school hallways, were already digging into their slices, their laughter a welcome counterpoint to the tense atmosphere of the meeting earlier.

Minjeong, perched at the end of a long table, her cheeks flushed with a hint of nervous excitement, spotted me. A radiant smile broke across her face, chasing away the serious leader persona from before. She patted the seat next to her, a silent invitation.

As I settled in, a chorus of curious glances and playful nudges fell upon me. A girl with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin leaned forward.

"So, Y/n," she began, her voice dripping with friendly interrogation, "how long have you known our Minjeong? Spill the secrets of your epic friendship!"

A wave of heat flooded Minjeong's cheeks, her cheeks turning the color of the pepperoni slices on the table. She mumbled something inaudible under her breath, burying her face in her pizza slice. I chuckled, the sound warming the air.

"Well Actually," I said, taking a bite of my own pizza, "we go way back. All the way back to elementary school."

A collective gasp escaped the group. Stories of elementary school crushes and childhood sweethearts circulated with wide-eyed wonder. Seeing Minjeong squirm under the spotlight only endeared her to me even more.

"She was this shy little thing," I continued, my voice filled with a smile, "always hiding behind her art folders. I just decided she needed a friend and dragged her into all sorts of adventures."

Minjeong peeked at me over her pizza slice, her eyes wide and filled with a mixture of shyness and amusement. My heart stuttered in my chest. Even after all this time, her gaze still held the power to send butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

"And did those adventures include falling head over heels for each other?" one of the guys piped up, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The question hung heavy in the air. A long silence stretched, broken only by the clinking of silverware and the murmur of conversation. I met Minjeong's gaze, a silent conversation unfolding between us.

"I…," I hesitated, taking a deep breath. "The truth is, Minjeong has always been special to me. Ever since that first day in elementary school, there was something about her. Her quiet strength, her kindness, her way of seeing the world through those incredible eyes."

Minjeong's entire face turned crimson, her lips forming a silent "wow." The rest of the table, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, remained silent, their eyes shifting between us with anticipation.

"And you, Y/n?" Minjeong finally managed to whisper, her voice barely audible. "Do you still feel the same way?"

"More than you know," I said, my voice sincere. "Seeing you all grown up, this amazing leader everyone admires… it just makes me realize how much I care about you."

The moment stretched, charged with unspoken emotions. Then, with a roar of approval, Minjeong's friends erupted in cheers.

"Oh my god, you guys are perfect for each other!"

"Finally! It was about time someone confessed!"

Minjeong, overwhelmed by the sudden outburst, hid her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with a mixture of shyness and laughter. My own heart pounded with a mixture of hope and disbelief. Could this really be happening?

As the cheers subsided, a shy smile peeked out from behind Minjeong's hands. Looking at me, her eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. Was it fear? Joy? Relief?

"Well, Y/n," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "It seems like you spilled the biggest secret of all."

I grinned, leaning closer. "Only the one I felt was most important."

The rest of the night was a blur of happy chatter, shared stories, and stolen glances. The seeds of doubt I'd harbored for weeks began to fade, replaced by a warm flicker of hope. Perhaps, amidst the changing tides of high school, our childhood connection could blossom into something more. As we walked home under the soft glow of the streetlights, a comfortable silence settled between us, a silence that spoke volumes more than words ever could. Maybe, just maybe, our story wasn't over yet.

As we strolled away from the pizza parlor, the streetlights cast soft yellow pools on the sidewalk. The air was thick with the unspoken words that hung between us. Finally, Minjeong broke the silence, her voice barely a whisper.

"Y/n," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "Do you… hate me?"

The question struck me like a physical blow. Hate her? The girl who had been my closest companion, my confidante? It was a ridiculous notion.

"Why would I hate you?" I asked gently, my voice laced with concern.

"For everything," she mumbled, tears welling up in her eyes. "For how I treated you these past three years. For being so cold and distant."

I stopped walking, turning to face her. Minjeong's face was illuminated by the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Minjeong-Ah, listen to me," I said, cupping her face in my hands. "You were focused on school, student council, all those responsibilities. It's natural. You've become this amazing leader, kind and strong. I could never hate you for that."

She shook her head, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. "But you must have felt so alone. Like I replaced you."

"It wasn't like that," I assured her, wiping away the stray tear with my thumb. "It just… it's a shame we drifted apart. I miss the talks we used to have, the silly jokes, the shared dreams."

A sob escaped her lips, and she buried her face in my chest. Tears soaked through my shirt as she held onto me for dear life.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n," she cried, her voice muffled against my chest. "I'm such an idiot. Seo-Ah is great, and I'm happy she has a friend, but… but you're different. You've always been different."

My heart ached for her, for the pain she had unknowingly inflicted. "Seo-Ah's a friend," I said, stroking her hair soothingly. "But you, Minjeong… you're so much more."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching mine. "More?"

"We grew up together," I continued, my voice soft. "We shared secrets, dreams, a lifetime of memories. Seo-Ah may be a new chapter, but you… you're the whole book."

Tears streamed down her face, each one a silent apology. "I-i messed up," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "The thought of losing you to someone else… it scared me to death. But I was too scared to admit it, too scared to even talk to you."

Understanding dawned on me. Her coldness, her distance, it was all a misguided attempt to protect herself from the possibility of losing our bond. The irony wasn't lost on me – her actions had almost achieved the very outcome she feared.

Enfolding her in a hug once more, I whispered into her hair, "It's okay, Minjeong. We can start over. Together."

Her body trembled against mine, a mixture of relief and hope washing over her. The night was filled with apologies, whispered confessions, and the bittersweet promise of a new beginning. We walked hand in hand, not as childhood friends, but as something more, something that transcended labels. We walked, not just towards her house, but towards a future we would write together, a future where communication replaced silence, and where the warmth of our friendship could finally blossom into something beautiful.

The walk to Minjeong's house felt different under the soft glow of the streetlights. The air, once thick with unspoken words, now crackled with a nervous energy, a budding promise. As we reached her doorstep, the weight of the emotional rollercoaster we'd just been on settled in.

Minjeong, sniffling and wiping away the last of her tears, looked at me with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. "Would you… would you like to stay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Staying the night at her place felt like venturing into uncharted territory. Was it too soon? Yet, the thought of leaving her on such a vulnerable note felt unbearable.

"I… I don't know," I stammered, unsure of the protocol for such a situation.

Tears welled up in her eyes again, threatening to spill over. "Please, Y/n," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

My resolve crumbled. How could I say no to those tear-filled eyes, to the raw vulnerability she was displaying? "Okay," I sighed, offering her a weak smile. "I'll stay."

Relief washed over her face, a radiant smile replacing the tear tracks. She fumbled with her keys, finally unlocking the door and ushering me inside.

The familiar scent of her home, a mixture of lavender and something vaguely sweet, instantly transported me back to our childhood sleepovers. As I entered her bedroom, the floodgates of nostalgia opened.

The walls were adorned with a tapestry of our shared history – a photo of us grinning goofily at a carnival, a drawing we'd made together during a rainy afternoon, a faded ticket stub from that time we snuck into a movie. Every picture, every memento, whispered of a friendship that had weathered storms, unspoken yet understood.

A choked sob escaped Minjeong's lips as she noticed my gaze tracing the memories on the wall. "It's… it's like a museum in here," she sniffled, a shy smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

I walked over to her, my heart overflowing with a cocktail of emotions. "It's beautiful," I whispered, reaching out to touch a photo of us on our first day of elementary school. "A reminder of everything we've been through."

Minjeong's cheeks flushed a rosy pink. As if making a sudden decision, she began to slowly undress, her movements filled with a nervous anticipation.

Shock momentarily paralyzed me. "Minjeong-Ah?" I stammered, unsure of how to interpret her actions.

She looked at me, her eyes shimmering with a newfound courage. "Y/n," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "I know this might seem crazy, but… all this time, all I ever wanted was you."

The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with unspoken desires. Before I could respond, she leaned in, hesitantly at first, then with a growing sense of urgency. Her lips met mine in a kiss that was both tentative and filled with a desperate longing.

It was a kiss that tasted of tearful apologies, unspoken confessions, and the bittersweet joy of a rekindled connection. In that kiss, we bridged the gap of lost years, the unspoken words replaced by a silent promise of a future we would write together.

Pulling away, breathless and a little dazed, we stared into each other's eyes. They held a newfound depth, a reflection of the emotions we had shared.

"Minjeong-Ah," I finally managed to breathe, my voice thick with emotion. "I… I thought I'd lost you."

"Me too," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes again, but this time, they were tears of joy. "But we're here now, Y/n. And this time," she continued, a determined glint in her eyes, "I'm not letting go."

Hearing those words, I immediately kissed her again. This time with so much passion and hunger to love her even more. minjeong share to play with my tounge,Something that I didn't know she would ever learned.

"M-minjeong-Ah.. You're so pretty". I blurted out, My words of praise basically flies out on its own. Minjeong blushes, Before planting another kiss to my lips. Her soft and plump lips, a cushion to my own.

"I-i want to try it... I-i want to do it with you Y/n". Minjeong blushes, Her hands touching the entrance of her now wet pussy. I blushed deeply, Not expecting that we'll come this far.

But I now know, that we are meant for each other. We both loved each other. I promised, I would never let her down anymore. I would love her with all of my heart.

"I-i'm putting it in Minjeong-Ah. Tell me if it hurts okay"? I gently caresses her face. As I started to slowly thrust my dick into her pussy, Minjeong immediately moaned, Her body trembling, as her hole started to widen, and not long after that. I have successfully inserted my whole dick deep into her pussy. As her hymen broke, Blood soon come out. I panicked, Asking Minjeong if she's alright.

She seemed to be trembling, and crying. I tried to pull back. But minjeong yelled "Noo.. Don't pull it out... I-i can handle it".

I hesitated, I didn't want this experience to hurt her. I explained it to her, that she doesn't need to force herself, and we can take it slowly. But to my suprise, Minjeong push me back, before straddling me.

"No.. No.. I want this.. I need this... Please don't leave me Y/n... I can handle this.. So please... caressing my face let me pleasure you". I immediately blushed hearing those words coming from her mouth. In the end I nodded, Letting her know I'll do it.

Minjeong started to move her hips slowly, Adjusting to the pain and pleasure that her body is currently having. And after a while, She finally found her pace and started to move faster and faster. We both moaned at how good this feels, And I just can't help but to admire her fit body, and her beautiful pair of tits.

"I-i know it's not the biggest... B-but.. Please love them". Minjeong blushes, as she turns her head around. I giggled before planting a kiss to her tits. Admiring them for how perfect they were. Mineong immediately smiled, Before planting another kiss to my lips.

After a while, I felt like I was near to reach my orgasm. As I saw Minjeong Continue swaying her hips, Something took over me and I gently put Minjeong into a missionary position. Minjeong legs immediately craddled surrounding my body, as her legs tightened. Her hand gripped the back of my body, As I kept on kissing her heck.

"Y/n!!! Y/n.. I'm close.. Fuck.. I'm so close..". Minjeong cried, as The pleasure was too much for the both of us. I told her that I'm also close.

"Shoot it inside me... I-it's okay... I want it..".

"W-whatt! No we can't... It's too dangerous minjeong... I'll shoot it outside".

"Noooo.. Please... I want your cum... Please... ".

As minjeong kept begging, and as I closely reached my limit. I can't help but to shoot my seed deep within her womb. As I did this, Minjeong moaned and tightly held me. Our body trembled in pleasure, and we finally reached our euphoria together.

After panting a while, We both Chukled before kissing each other for the last time, as we finally fell asleep. We held each other close, our bodies radiating a warmth that chased away the chill of the night. The room filled with the sound of our gentle breaths and the soft thudding of our hearts, a symphony of rediscovered love and a promise of a future where childhood friendship could finally blossom into something beautiful and everlasting.

Sunlight streamed through the window, painting golden stripes across Minjeong's face. She stirred, a sleepy smile curving her lips. Glancing beside her, she found me still nestled in the sheets, the events of last night replaying vividly in her mind. A blush crept up her cheeks as she remembered the passionate confessions and rekindled love that had blossomed under her very roof.

"Y/n," she whispered, nudging me gently. "Time to wake up. We don't want to be late for school."

I groaned playfully, pulling the covers over my head for a moment longer. "Five more minutes?" I mumbled, the warmth of the sheets and the memory of Minjeong close beside me making it hard to leave.

She chuckled, a sound like wind chimes dancing in a summer breeze. "Not a chance, sleepyhead. We have a whole day of classes and stolen glances ahead of us."

Her words were a sweet melody to my ears. Sitting up, I stretched, my gaze lingering on her. "Thank you, Minjeong-Ah," I said, my voice husky with sleep and unspoken emotions.

"For what?" she asked, tilting her head.

"For everything," I replied, cupping her face in my hands and leaning in for a soft kiss. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes of the renewed connection we shared.

The morning unfolded in a whirlwind of hurried breakfasts, stolen kisses in between brushing teeth, and nervous excitement as we walked to school together, hand in hand. As we reached our classroom, I was met with a concerned Seo-Ah, her eyes wide with worry.

"Y/n!" she exclaimed, rushing over. "Where have you been? I texted and called you a million times; I was scared something happened!"

My heart twinged with a pang of guilt. Seo-Ah's genuine concern warmed me, and I realized how much I valued our friendship. With a sheepish grin, I turned to Minjeong, taking her hand in mine.

"Seo-Ah," I began, my voice laced with a newfound confidence, "there's something I need to tell you. Minjeong and I… we're a couple now."

Seo-Ah's eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of sadness flitting across her face for a fleeting moment. But then, a genuine smile bloomed on her lips.

"Oh wow," she said, her voice filled with unexpected joy. "Congratulations, you two! I always thought you had a special connection."

Relief flooded me. I was worried how Seo-Ah would react, but her understanding and well-wishes warmed the air.

The rest of the day was a blur of excited whispers from classmates, stolen glances across the classroom, and the thrill of a newfound love. After school, Minjeong and I decided to celebrate. We walked hand-in-hand down a street lined with cherry blossom trees, their delicate pink petals showering us like confetti.

"This feels like a dream," Minjeong whispered, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

"A dream I never want to wake up from," I replied, squeezing her hand.

We stopped at a quaint ice cream shop, the aroma of sweet waffle cones wafting through the air. We ordered our favorite flavors, sharing bites and laughing like children. As we savored the cool treat, I realized that sometimes, the most unexpected detours lead us to the sweetest destinations.

Looking into Minjeong's eyes, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling within them, I knew that our story was far from over. It was a story of friendship, of rediscovery, and of a love that had weathered the storms of time and finally blossomed into something beautiful. And as we walked into the sunset, hand in hand, with the promise of forever etched in our hearts, I knew this was just the beginning of our happily ever after.

The End

A/n : Hey Guys, Elryuse here. just want to say, This is probably one of my favorite stories/fics that I've ever written so far. The characterization of Winter/Minjeong really fit in this story. But I have to say, Justice for the Seo-Ah man. Initially, In my first draft of the story, Seo-Ah would be a contender for Winter, However while I was writing, I think this is for the best. So I settled for her losing quicker in the story.

And I wanted to apologize to some of you guys, who have requested for a fics, But I'm currently focusing my priority for my ko-fi fans and for people who ordered fics personally. But don't be sad, I would still definitely do some of your requests y'all. Hope you enjoyed this story guys. 🤗

[moonchild9350]

The Beauty of Happiness

Summary: You and Hyunjin have been best friends since childhood, but you both discover those feelings have changed over the years.

Pairing: nonidol Hyunjin x fab reader

Genre: college friends to lovers (slow burn), fluff, smut-18+ MDNI

Word Count: 9.6k

Warnings: fingering, masturbation, lots of kissing, p in v penetration, creampie (wrap it up, wrap it up), oral sex (f receiving)

Notes: Thank you all! I have been working on this for a while now and thought it would fit perfect as a thank you for 200 followers! I love each and every one of y'all and appreciate each of your kind comments and reblogs. I hope y'all enjoy this fic! This is my longest one yet hehe.

Let me know what you think via comments, reblogs, or drop by my ask box :)

If you'd like to be added to the taglist, let me know! (age must be in bio or pinned to be added)

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

You met Hyunjin in elementary school, both of you being in the same class. He sat right behind you, pulling your pony tail whenever he could. You would get mad at him, turning around in your chair, giving him your best angry face, to tell him to stop. He would just smirk back at you, before shrugging his shoulders, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. You would huff before turning back around in your seat to pay attention to the teacher. That was one way he would bother you.

Hyunjin loved to seek you out on the playground, saying anything he could to bother you. You usually would ignore him, turning back to your friends to gossip about the latest fashion trends. Hyunjin was frustrated at the lack of attention you would give him, annoyed that everyone paid attention to him but you. He wanted to change that, no one ignored him in his book.

You loved to draw, bringing your beloved sketch book with you to school sometimes, sitting beneath the tree in the front lawn, sketching whatever caught your eye. One day you were focusing on a sketch of a flower that was recently planted, filling in the delicate lines of the petals. Hyunjin popped up next to you, looking over your shoulder at what you were drawing.

“I didn’t know you can draw,” the boy said.

“You didn’t ask,” you replied, not looking up from your sketch. “Why do you care?”

Hyunjin was taken aback at your response. Where was the sweet girl who sat in front of him in class? Who welcomed every new kid who joined the class, no matter who they were?

Shrinking away from you, he responded, “I didn’t mean to upset you….just asked a question.”

He made to leave when you looked up from your drawing, your cheeks flushed red.

“I’m not upset at you,” you said, looking at the boy.

Hyunjin turned around, looking you right in the eyes. “I draw too. It’s my favorite thing to do.”

You were shocked at his words, not thinking that the boy who always annoyed you and sought your attention would share a hobby of yours. You looked down at your sketch book before saying, “well you can bring yours to school to sketch with me next time,” you hesitated before adding on, “if you want.”

Now it was Hyunjin’s turn to blush, before saying, “uhhh…sure…if that’s ok with you.”

You nodded yes before turning back to your sketch. You listened as Hyunjin walked away, not believing he would bring his sketch book to share with you.

However, the next day, while you were at your tree, sketching a bird this time, he plopped down next to you. You looked up startled, watching as he took his sketch book and pencil out of his bag, before opening it and looking around.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Sketching duh,” he said while side eyeing you. “You said I could bring mine and sketch with you.”

You just sat there, looking at him. You didn’t think he would actually take you up on the offer. Shaking your head, you went back to your sketch, getting lost in the page as usual. All that could be heard was the occasional scratch of the pencil on the paper or the birds chirping as they flew by. You found it actually relaxing to sketch next to Hyunjin. He didn’t bother you like he usually does, lost in his own sketch. You thought it was nice to have someone here with you.

Your sketch outings became a daily occurrence, both of you sitting in silence, sketching whatever caught your fancy that day. During breaks, you both would talk, discussing your favorite things and sharing completed sketches with each other. You slowly became friends as the weeks, months, and years went by, now meeting up at each others houses to sketch, watch tv, or go on adventures.

You realized he was your best friend, sharing secrets and dreams with him.

****************************************************

That was years ago. Now you both were in your twenties at university. You decided to go to the same university, not wanting to be too far apart from each other.

“I’ve decided I’m going to actually become an art major ,” you told him one day as you were lounging on his bed in his apartment . You had been deciding whether or not to actually go through with the major. Ultimately you decided to go through with it as it was your favorite thing to do and you wanted to display your works in a gallery one day.

Hyunjin, who was sitting at his desk, looked over at you, “you’d be a good painter y/n. I’d say go for it.”

You hummed at his answer, picking up your pencil and paper to go back to sketching.

Hyunjin looked at you a little more before turning back to the essay he was working on. He’d always support your dreams, as long as he could be by your side. He’s not sure when the switch came, his feeling turning from friendship to wanting something more with you. He never voiced this however, scared that you would turn him away and even worse cut off your friendship for good. He was content at concealing his feelings if it meant being by your side.

After a while, you began to pack up your stuff to head back to your dorm. You had a few sketches you needed to finish before the end of the week.

“I’m heading out Hyunjinnie,” you said, “ gotta put the finishing touches on a few of my sketches before class tomorrow.

Hyunjin nodded, “want me to walk you back to your dorm?”

You shook your head no, “I’ll be fine. I’ll let you know when I make it back.”

Hyunjin looked at you and nodded ok. “Alright. Good night, y/n. Make sure to get some sleep yeah?”

“Of course! Don’t worry about me,” you chuckled with a toss of your arm. Hyunjin was a total gentleman. He always made sure you got to your destinations safely, opened doors for you, and treated you so well. Your cheeks would always flush with heat whenever he did these things, making sure you were well cared for.

You gave one final wave before walking out the door, shutting it carefully behind you. You exited his apartment building, feeling the cool, crisp air hit your face, autumn rolling around the corner. You bundled yourself in your jacket a little more and walked towards your dorm. It wasn’t far, just right across the quad from Hyunjin’s apartment.

Fobbing yourself into your dorm, you made your way to your room. You set your bag down by your desk, dropping your keys on the hook you kept by the door. You picked up your shower caddy, needing a warm shower before getting to work. Turning on the hot water, you stepped in, letting the water drip down your body. Your mind couldn’t help but think of Hyunjin, a common occurrence while in the shower.

You thought he was cute and he was such a great guy. You knew he could take care of you and your heart, but you didn’t know if he felt the same way about you. You drifted your hands down your body, leaving feather light touches on your hot skin, causing in contrast a shiver to run down your spine. You repeated this a couple times, imagining it was Hyunjin’s hands instead. You let out a sigh as you pinched your nipple, causing it to pebble. Caressing your breast, you let your fingers wander further down, running your fingers through your folds. You slid them through a few times before pressing them at your entrance gathering slick that was already pooling out of your pussy. Bringing your slick covered fingers to your clit, you gave gentle rubs to the bud, pressing hard every few strokes.

You wished Hyunjin was here, circling your puffy clit with his fingers, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You knew he would take care of you, make sure you reach your high in his hold. You brought yourself close to your orgasm, rubbing faster on your bundle of nerves, giving your nipple a pinch every now and then. You imagined Hyunjin’s lips on your neck, leaving sweet kisses as you came, rocking your hips along your fingers, riding out your high. Letting out one more shaky breath, you straightened up, shaking your head. These were dangerous thoughts, thoughts you knew would never come true. You finished your shower, wrapping yourself in your fluffy towel before making it back to your room.

Once inside, you checked your phone, noticing a notification from Hyunjin.

Ferret Boy 🦙 Did you make it back? (10:30pm) Hello? (10:35pm) Y/n…I’m getting worried here (11:00pm)

“Shit,” you said under your breath. You had forgotten to let Hyunjin know you made it back safely. Opening the chat box you replied:

Ferret Boy 🦙 Sorry Hyun. I made it back. Just got out of the shower. Please forgive me :)

You hit send and almost immediately got a response back.

Ferret Boy 🦙 Thank god y/n. I’ll think about it lol Don’t stay up too late angel.

You loved it when he called you angel. Blushing you responded:

Ferret Boy 🦙 Wouldn’t dream of it. Night Hyunjinnie <3

You set your phone down on your bed before drying yourself off. You picked out one of your oversized t-shirts and sleep shorts to put on. Tying your hair up in a messy bun, you made your way to your desk, where your sketches were that you were working on. Taking a seat, you picked up your phone once more, opening up your playlist before selecting your favorite music to sketch to. Setting your phone down, you picked up your pencil and started sketching, the soft notes of Bon Iver’s Holocene drifted throughout the room.

You relaxed into your task, focused on finishing up your last two pieces for the assignment. You were to sketch four pieces, the theme being things and or people you love. You decided to sketch a coffee cup filled with your favorite drink, a field of flowers Hyunjin took you to one time, your childhood cat, and last but not least Hyunjin. Once turned in, the top three students who score the highest will get to go on and present their pieces at the end of year showcase. You really wanted to be one of those who scored the highest as you heard that personal from the local galleries sometimes attended the showcase, scouting for the next big artist.

You were currently working on your favorite piece, one of Hyunjin. You were shading in some around his eyes trying to reflect the beauty and perfection you see in him everyday. Humming along to the song playing, you made your finishing touches. Setting your pencil down, you lifted the sketch up to look it over. Satisfied with your work, you set it aside with the other two completed pieces befre picking up the fourth piece.

It was a sketch of a flower, a white Lilly to be exact. You picked this flower for your assignment as it represented beauty and purity, something you thought fit Hyunjin well. The purity being your friendship, and how good natured it is, and of course beauty as Hyunjin was beyond beautiful. All four of your sketches revolved around Hyunjin, each representing a different aspect of your relationship.

Some people may think it’s a little much, to base your whole assignment off one person, but you saw no problem with it. You wanted to express how you saw your best friend for anyone that would look and hopefully Hyunjin himself will get to see them too.

You glanced at the clock, noting it was 2:30am. Sighing you finished your last sketch before standing up and stretching. Carefully picking up your four pieces, you carefully placed them in your portfolio, ready to be turned in tomorrow. You cleaned up your space a little before turning off the lights and sliding under the covers. Closing your eyes, you began to drift away, dreaming of sunny days far away with your best friend.

****************************************************

Your alarm was going off. Groaning, you reached over to your phone to press the snooze button, before snuggling deeper into your blankets. You laid there for a while before you felt yourself drifting off again. That is until your phone went off again, this time signaling you had a phone call coming through. Groaning yet again, you picked up your phone, noting the time of 6am before accepting the call.

Hyunjin’s voice echoed from the other end of the call, “Y/n, angel, wake up. Let’s go grab some breakfast before first period.”

You rubbed your face, attempting to wake up, before grumbling, “Hyun, it’s so early. Can’t we skip breakfast today?”

“Nah uh angel. You need food so you can get through your day. What time did you go to bed anyway?”

“It was almost 3am,” you responded, sitting up in bed. “I wouldn’t hate getting in a couple more hours of sleep.”

You listened to Hyunjin hum before saying, “I know y/n, but how about I buy you whatever you want. We’ll go to your favorite place.”

At that, you perked up a little. “Really?”

“Really,” Hyunjin chuckled.

“Ok, ok, you convinced me. Give me 10,” you replied.

“Perfect, I’ll meet you at your dorm ok?”

“Sounds good Hyunjinnie,” you said before hanging up.

Letting out a sigh and stretching your arms over your head, you got out of bed to get ready. Pulling on a black t-shirt, flannel, and jeans, you walked over to your mirror to do your hair and put on some eyeliner and mascara. Nodding your head at your appearance, you gathered up your books and tossed them in your bag. Slinging the bag over your shoulders, you leaned down to pick up your portfolio before walking out the door.

Hyunjin was waiting for you outside the dorm as promised, looking beautiful as always. He smiled at you when he spotted you walking down the steps.

“Morning sleepy head,” he chuckled before walking toward your destination.

“Morning,” you replied, yawning in the process.

“Did you finish everything you needed to?”

“I did. I think everything looks great. I hope it gets to go on to the showcase.”

“Of course it will angel, no doubt about it.” Hyunjin turned his head to smile at you.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his smile. Looking ahead, you saw the little cafe, your favorite one. The atmosphere was calm and not to mention their food and coffee were to die for. Hyunjin opened the door for you, you slipping through before he walked in after you. The smell of fresh brewed coffee and pastries hit your nose. You inhaled deeply, loving the scent of hope for the day.

“What do you want? Your usual?” Hyunjin asked.

“Yes please,” you responded. “I’ll get us a table while you order.”

Hyunjin nodded before walking away to the counter. You picked a table by the window, that way you could feel the warmth of the rising sun on your skin. You were browsing through your phone when Hyunjin came back, setting your coffees and pastries on the table. You reached for your iced americano and pumpkin loaf with a smile on your face, thanking Hyunjin. He nodded and grabbed his.

“So, what are your sketches about? You never did tell me.”

You took a sip of your coffee before looking Hyunjin in the eyes, the sun reflecting off the big, brown orbs.

“Not telling,” you said. “Want it to be a surprise, especially if it goes onto the showcase.”

Hyunjin pouted at you. “Aww come on angel, not even a little hint?” He pleaded.

“Nope, sorry,” you smirked back at him.

Hyunjin sighed. “Well ok, if you insist.”

You watched as he brushed his hand through his long hair. How can someone be so perfect and beautiful you thought. You ate in silence for a little, thinking of your classes for the day, not really looking forward to any of them. Well, you were looking forward to advanced art. Brushing the crumbs off your hands, you looked at the time.

“Shit, it’s already 7:30. I gotta go, don’t want to be late dropping my portfolio off.”

Hyunjin nodded, “ok, leave your trash, I’ll take care of it. Text me when you have a break, k?”

You nodded your head, gathering your bag and portfolio and walked out the door. Breathing in the crisp, morning air, you walked toward the art building, it being on the other side of campus. You didn’t mind the walk however, as it was a beautiful campus, trees and flowers everywhere.

Once arriving at the building, you opened the door, the chilly air-conditioning blowing in your face in contrast to the warm sun outside. You made your way to the classroom, plopping down in your seat. The professor walked in then, asking everyone to bring their portfolios up to the front of the class. She announced that the students chosen for the showcase would be notified by the end of the week.

You dropped yours off as directed, before sitting back down in your seat, getting out your sketch book. The rest of the class was spent drawing a still life portrait, your other favorite theme to draw…besides Hyunjin. At the close of class, you texted Hyunjin asking where he was. Your phone pinged:

Ferret Boy 🦙 I’m back at my apartment. Wanna come over

You responded yes and that you were on your way. You walked across campus to Hyunjin’s place, letting yourself in as Hyunjin had left the door unlocked for you.

“Hey angel,” Hyunjin greeted you from the couch. He had some shitty reality tv show on, the drama king himself immersed in the show. You kicked off your shoes, making your way over to the couch before plopping down next to Hyunjin with a sigh. You leaned against the pillow on the couch, draping your feet across Hyunjin’s lap.

“Why do you watch this crap?” you inquired as you watched the drama unfold on screen.

“It’s mindless. Plus the fights are entertaining.” Hyunjin replied.

“It’s entertaining because you’re mister drama king yourself,” you said laughing.

Hyunjin stuck his tongue out at you before giving you a smile, turning his head back to the tv. You pulled out your phone, scrolling through social media, as you got comfortable. You felt cozy, the tv in the background, Hyunjin’s warm body next to you. Before you knew it, your eyes began to close, feeling the effects of your late night. You dreamed of Hyunin and his gentleness, that he was yours as you were his.

****************************************************

You opened your eyes, finding yourself curled up in a ball, wrapped in a blanket. You turned your head, seeing Hyunjin sitting next to you, sketchbook in hand. You silently watched him for a while, watching his hand glide across the paper. Eventually Hyunjin noticed you were awake, looking at you still curled up in your ball.

“Welcome back,” Hyunjin chuckled.

You groaned and stretched out, feeling your joints crack with the motion. Pulling the blanket to your face, you snuggled in once more before asking, “I’m hungry, you should feed me.”

Hyunjin laughed, “of course, gotta feed angel or she’ll tear me apart.”

You nodded your head at his statement, knowing you truly were a terror when you were hungry. Hyunjin closed his sketchbook, setting it down on the table before grabbing his phone.

“What do you want to eat?” Hyunjin asked, pulling up the delivery app.

You thought for a minute before saying, “pizza!”

Hyunjin chuckled. “You and your cheese fixation.”

You shrugged your shoulders, not ashamed at all. Who doesn’t like cheese? While you both waited on the pizza, Hyunjin chatted about his art class and their current project. “We’re working on oil paintings. I’m really liking this unit. I think it’s my favorite medium to use so far.”

You listened to Hyunjin, in awe of him taking about his passion. Watching as his eyes lit up when discussing the topic of his paintings to the little uptick of his lips as he ranted about how he ran out of a paint, having to stop for the day instead of finishing the painting as planned. As Hyunjin was starting to discuss the next unit they would move onto in a few weeks, the doorbell rang, signaling the pizza was here. You jumped up, running to the door, scaring the delivery man in the process at your sudden appearance. You grabbed the pizza, thanking the man, before closing the door and making your way back to the couch.

You sat down and opened the box, grabbing a slice and taking a bite. You let out a moan at the taste, closing your eyes as you chewed.

“Is it everything you could have dreamed off?” Hyunjin teased, shaking his head at your dramatics.

You nodded your head before taking another bite. You both finished eating in silence, the pizza being too good. After Hyunjin finished his last bite, he turned to you. “Are you staying the night?”

You licked your fingers, licking the sauce off before looking at the time on your phone. Noting it was almost 11pm, you shook your head yes. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind angel. We can cuddle!” He said, giving you a smile.

You both cleaned up the mess before walking to Hyunjin’s room. You sat down on his bed, watching as he rummaged through his drawers. Straightening up, he turned to you and handed you one of his shirts. You took the clothing, making your way to his bathroom to change. You put your hair up and then walked out of the bathroom, pulling the covers back and sliding in. Hyunjin had already changed while you were in the bathroom. He turned off the light and then slid under the covers, sliding in next to you.

“Come here angel,” he said, cradling you into his chest.

You cuddled with Hyunjin all the time, this wasn’t a new occurrence. But that didn’t stop your heart from beating wildly, as you tucked your head into his chest. You eventually were at ease and started to drift off, the feeling of Hyunjin stroking your hair lulling you to sleep.

****************************************************

The next morning, you opened your eyes to the blinding sun. Your back was to Hyunjin, his arms wrapped around your waist and his head tucked into your neck. You sighed at the feeling, wishing you could wake up like this every morning. You looked at the time, and let out a low groan. You had to make your way back to your dorm, as you had class in a few hours.

You pushed back the covers, feeling Hyunjin stir behind you. You got up, finding your clothes from yesterday, and going into the bathroom. You slipped on your clothes, tossing Hyunjin’s shirt in the hamper before exiting the bathroom. Hyunjin was sitting up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Morning angel,” he said in a raspy voice. “Leaving?”

“Yeah, I have class in a few hours and I wanna go back to my dorm and shower.”

Hyunjin nodded, getting out of bed to walk you out. Right before you opened the door, he pulled you in for a hug, burying his face in your hair. You were shocked at first, but eventually wrapped your arms around his waist, breathing in his scent. You both stood there in front of his front door, silence filling the room. So much was said in that hug, neither of you wanting to pull away.

But, all good things must come to an end. Hyunjin pulled away, giving you a smile. “Text me when you get back, yeah?”

“Of course Hyun,” you replied as you put your shoes on. You opened the door, and made your way to your dorm.

****************************************************

The rest of the week passed uneventful, your days filled with class and Hyunjin. The day of the announcement of who would go onto the showcase was today, your nerves getting the better of you. You were at Hyunjin’s apartment, sitting once more on his couch.

You were a nervous wreck, your leg was bouncing up and down, a finger in your mouth as you bit at the nail. Every now and then you let out a sigh, checking the time for the hundredth time. Hyunjin watched you, observing how you appeared to become anxious as time went on, wishing he could do something about it. He reached out to you and placed his hand on your leg, giving it a squeeze.

“Hey, whatever happens, it’ll be ok.” Hyunjin sought out your eyes, finally making direct eye contact. You let out the breath you were holding, nodding your head once before turning back to your computer screen.

It was time. You pulled up the class page, eyes darting immediately to the announcement portion of the page. You held your breath as you read a brief statement from the professor, thanking everyone for their hard work and dedication. You kept reading, until the end, eyes frozen on the screen once you got to the name of the person chosen. You sat like that for a moment, eyes trained on the screen in disbelief..

“Well? Did you get it? Are you going to the showcase?” Hyunjin asked, searching your face for any hint.

You turned your head to look at him, your eyes finding his. “I did it.” You slowly said. “I’m going to the showcase.”

You both stared at each other, before a big smile spread on Hyunjin’s face. You couldn’t help but smile back, wrapping your arms around him in a big hug.

“I knew you would get it angel,” Hyunjin said, squeezing you tighter.

You buried your head in his neck, letting out the breath you had been holding. You did it. You fucking did it. You were in disbelief, still wrapping your head around the fact that you made it. Your sketches were going to be shown to thousands of people, and if you’re lucky, maybe even be displayed in the local gallery.

You pulled back, your hands still wrapped around Hyunjin. He looked down at you, eyes flickering to your lips before darting back to your eyes. You almost missed the movement, but it was there. You sat still , not knowing what to do, frozen in your spot. You removed your arms from around Hyunjin, leaning back to put distance between you two.

Clearing your throat, you asked, “Would you like to be my plus one?”

“Of course angel. You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Hyunjin replied, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You looked into his eyes once more, watching as he gave you a smile. He dropped his hand from your face, his fingers brushing down your cheek in the process. You briefly closed your eyes at the feeling, before opening them and shutting your lap top.

“So what’s next?” Hyunjin asked.

“Well, I’ll be transferring my sketches onto canvas. I think I’ll stick to an acrylic medium. It’s what I know best.” You let out a sigh, “I’m going to be pretty busy this week. Th deadline to get the paintings in is in one week.”

Hyunjin nodded, “well I’m here to help if you need it…even if it’s just for company.”

“Thanks Hyun. I guess I need to make sure I have everything I need. Wanna go to the store with me?”

“Of course! Let’s go angel. We’ll get food while we’re out too.”

“Great, cause I’m starving now that that’s over.” Hyunjin chuckled at you, getting up from the couch to walk to the door. You grab your bag and followed him, both of you putting on your shoes to leave.

****************************************************

Later that night, you were back at your dorm, Hyunjin dropping you off after your store run and dinner. You took a shower, deciding to get started on your paintings after. You put on lofi in the background and got to work organizing your space. You decided to start on the coffee cup sketch, wishing you actually had a cup now. It didn’t take you long to zone in, focused on your painting, humming to the tunes playing softly in the background.

You felt at peace, the stroke of the brush on the canvas soothing you, as all of your worries and thoughts left your mind.

Reaching a stopping point, you looked up at your clock. It was already 3am. Cursing under your breath, you put your brush down, stretching out your arms. Deciding to call it a night, you cleaned your brushes, placing them back in the cup you kept on your desk. Grabbing your phone, you crawled into bed. Snuggling into the blankets, you found yourself drifting off.

The rest of the week went by quickly, your nights spent working on your paintings for the showcase. The day of honor was getting closer, along with your deadline to turn in said paintings. Hyunjin spent some evenings with you, watching you paint or doing some sketching of his own. You always made sure he couldn’t see your drawings, wanting it to be a surprise for the night of the showcase. He didn’t mind, knowing he would get to see them soon enough.

You appreciated Hyunjin’s company, as some nights you felt stressed, freaking out about the deadline and worrying about how people would react to your work. Each time you doubted yourself, Hyunjin was there to make sure to squash that doubt. Deep down you knew everything would be ok, but on the surface, every worry was brought to attention.

The night before the due date, you and Hyunjin sat in your room once more, your playlist on in the background, Hyunjin lounging on your bed. He was humming along to the song that was playing, as you put the finishing touches to your last painting. Setting your brush down, you leaned back to look at the finished product, smiling as you saw your recreation of Hyunjin on the canvas. You could never capture his beauty completely, but you damned near tried.

“Done?” Hyunjin asked, looking up at you.

“Mmhmm, I think so.” You sat back and massaged your temples, happy to be done.

Hyunjin grinned, opening up his arms beckoning you to come cuddle with him. You stood up, and slid under the blankets, snuggling into Hyunjin and letting out a sigh. You both laid there in silence, enjoying each other’s company. You listened to Hyunjin’s heart, the rhythmic sound soothing you. You didn’t realize how tired you were, your eyes starting to droop. You thought you heard Hyunjin say something, but you were on the verge of dreamland, not caring what was going on around you.

Hyunjin noticed you falling asleep, a smile on his face as he tucked you in. He settled next to you, his body facing yours. You looked so beautiful and peaceful, your features softening as you fell into a deeper sleep. He loved seeing you like this, the softness of your eyes, gently fluttering as you dreamed hopefully of nice things. He loved watching your soft lips part, your breathing slowing down with each passing moment. He loved you, everything about you, and he hoped to tell you so one day. With a smile gracing his face, he closed his eyes, hoping to dream of you.

****************************************************

The next day, you got up early, earlier than you normally would at least, so you could gather your paintings and bag. You had to turn them in today, so the professor could pass them on to the event coordinator for the showcase. You heard Hyunjin wake, sitting up in bed to watch you move around your room.

“Morning angel,” he said yawning, running a hand through his hair.

You mumbled out a morning, grabbing your clothes to put on for the day. You quickly brushed your hair into a pony tail, forgoing makeup.

“I’m leaving Hyun. Stay as long as you want, but I have to get these over to the building.”

Hyunjin nodded, laying back down on your pillows. “I’ll be here angel.”

You grabbed your bag and paintings and headed out the door. You made your way across campus, a little urgency in your step. Arriving at the building, you made your way to the classroom, dodging other students in the hallway so you wouldn’t drop anything.

Once you entered the classroom, you walked up to the professor, setting your paintings down carefully on her desk.

“Ahh thank you y/n. Congratulations on being selected. Your sketches were very good. I can see you’ve worked hard to transfer them as paintings.”

“Thank you,” you responded, a shy smile spreading on your face. “Will they be dropped off today? To the coordinators?”

“Yes, they will be. They’ll keep them safe and will hang them up in time for the showcase.”

You nodded, thanked her once again before walking back out of the classroom. You made your way back to your dorm, opting to stop and grab some coffee and snacks for you and Hyunjin.

Opening up your door, you were met with the sight of Hyunjin sprawled out on your bed, softly snoring. You chuckled, setting the coffees and snacks on your desk, opting to sit on your chair. You ate your pastry while looking through your phone, trying to keep quiet as your best friend continued to sleep.

You felt like you could breathe now, if only for a moment. Your next hurdle would be the showcase this weekend. You decided to go for a walk to help clear your mind. Grabbing your shoes, you made your way outside, breathing in the fresh air. You slowly made your way around campus, enjoying the scenery. The trees were starting to turn colors, the leaves a beautiful shades of red and orange. You smiled as squirrels dashed across the sidewalk in front of you, making their way to the next tree. The warm sun was beating down on your skin, warming you through and through. You were happy you went on this walk, your mind clearer than it had been thirty minutes ago.

Checking the time, you decided to walk back to your dorm, as Hyunjin would probably be up now. Opening your door, you saw him perched on your bed, nibbling on the food and coffee you brought back with you earlier.

“Hey, just getting back?”

“Nah, went for a walk to clear my head.”

“Ah, angel what’s wrong?”

“Just nervous about this weekend. What if nobody likes my work? What if me winning was a mistake?” You paced the floor, slowly becoming anxious again.

“Y/ninnie, everyone will love your work, I’m more than sure about that.” Hyunjin softly replied. He frowned seeing how distressed you were. “Come here angel.”

You slowly made your way to your bed, crawling over and into Hyunjin’s arms. You nuzzled your head into his chest, breathing in his scent. He slowly brushed his hands up and down your back, trying to soothe you.

You didn’t pull away, your head resting in the crook of his neck as he laid you two down to cuddle. Your lips brushed against his skin as you let out a sigh, your body slowly relaxing in his hold. You felt Hyunjin kiss the top of your head. You lifted your head up to look him in the eyes. Hyunjin gazed at you, his brown orbs soft and gentle, radiating his fondness for you.

Hyunjin brought his head down to yours, as he gently brushed his lips to yours. Your body tensed at the sudden intrusion, but as he continued to press kiss after kiss to your lips, you relaxed, returning his feather soft kisses. Hyunjin rested his forehead against yours, as you tightened your hold on him.

With a deep breath Hyunjin whispered, “I like you y/n. I have for a while. I just haven’t said anything because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I like you so so much angel.”

You laid there in silence, letting Hyunjin’s words sink in. Hyunjin liked you. He actually liked you more than a friend. Your mind was spinning at his confession. You could tell he was starting to get antsy and probably worried at your silence, as minutes passed without you saying anything.

“Hyunjinnie I like you too. I really do.” You replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin smiled, stroking your face, and hugging you closer. He slotted his lips with yours once more, breathing out a sigh of relief. Your mouths moved in tandem, neither one of you in a hurry, your hands exploring each other’s bodies. You felt Hyunjin’s hands slide under your shirt, his hands sliding up and down your side before reaching your breasts. He gave them a light squeeze, brushing his fingers softly across your nipple, a low moan leaving your lips.

Hyunjin repeated the motion, again and again, in no hurry to move on. You felt yourself getting hot, your arousal leaking into your panties. You instinctively rolled your hips against his, catching Hyunjin by surprise.

“Angel, maybe we should stop,” Hyunjin said.

You let out a sigh. You really didn’t want to, but you understood why you had to. You nodded your head in agreement, a slight pout on your face. Hyunjin pressed a kiss on your forehead before untangling himself from you and sitting up.

“So, even though I said we should stop, we probably should talk about what this is.” Hyunjin said.

“Ok, I think we should too.”

“Y/n, like I said earlier, I’ve liked you for a while. Would you believe me if I said I’ve kinda had a crush on you since elementary school?” Hyunjin chuckled.

You stared at him in shock. You couldn’t believe it. All this time your childhood liked you the same as you liked him. You guys could have been together instead of wasting all this time.

“Wow, I never would have thought Hyun. I like you too. Does this make us more than friends?” You asked hopefully.

Hyunjin looked at you, “if you’ll have me angel.”

You smiled at him, genuine happiness reaching your eyes. You sat up and pressed a quick kiss on Hyunjin’s lips. “Then I guess you’re mine.”

Hyunjin grinned at your statement. “My beautiful girl.”

You blushed at his words. You watched as he got up out of bed, reaching his hand down for you to take.

“Let’s grab some food my love.”

You nodded yes and smiled, placing your hand in his as he pulled you up. You were over the moon. Seems like your weekend was starting off swell.

**************************************************** You spent the day with Hyunjin, in which it was filled with absolute bliss. Knowing he liked you back was like a breath of fresh air. You were over the moon, giddy, and ecstatic that you could call him yours. After all you had been waiting for this moment for years. You really hoped your luck would hold out until for the showcase too.

Hyunjin walked you back to your dorm that night, promising to pick you up the next day to walk you over to the building where the showcase would be held. Once he brought you to the door, he lifted your chin with his fingers, bringing his lips to yours. You felt time slip away, focusing only on the feel of his lips on yours. You would never get tired of the feeling.

Hyunjin pulled back, “good night angel. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Night Hyun. Thank you for today.”

“Of course, anything for my girl,” Hyunjin said. “Now go to bed angel, you have a big day tomorrow.”

He watched as you made your way to the door, making sure you made it inside. You truly did have a big day tomorrow and the ideas of going to bed earlier than you normally do sounded appealing. You changed into your sleep clothes and turned out the lights. Your dreams were filled with Hyunjin once more, but this time they were a little different, your relationship having progressed.

***************************************************

Today’s the day. The day of the showcase. You woke up, blinking away your dreams, before letting out a sigh and stretching your legs. You checked your phone, clearing out notifications from overnight, before getting up. You decided to take a long shower, pulling out all the stops for the day. You wanted to look in tip top shape. You used your best shampoo, the floral scent permeating the bathroom. You let out a sigh, the warm water easing the tension from your body, your anxiety picking up again. You finished up, before stepping out and wrapping your fluffiest towel around your body.

Once back in your room, you put on your playlist before attempting your hair and makeup. You hummed along to the song, applying a little highlighter. You were almost done when you heard your phone buzz. Putting your makeup brush down, you checked your phone:

Ferret Boy 🦙 Hey angel, ready for today

Sighing you turned down the music so you could think, your brain only being able to focus on one thing at a time at the moment.

Ferret Boy 🦙 I’m getting there Hyun. I’m nervous tbh.

A few moments passed before your phone pinged again.

Ferret Boy 🦙 Oh angel, I’m on my way ok?

You let out a breath. What would you do without this man.

Ferret Boy🦙 Thank you hyun♡ I’ll be waiting.

You set your phone down again, turning your playlist back on. You were almost done with your makeup, putting on the finishing touches when you heard a knock at your door. You got up to let Hyunjin in, opening the door to see him standing there with coffees in his hand.

“Hey angel, got you a little something.”

“You’re the best Hyun,” you said taking your coffee from his hand.

Hyunjin stepped into your room and closed the door. “Forgetting something aren’t you?”

You turned back to face him, a smile on your face. “Hmmm not sure, maybe so.”

Hyunjin chuckled before closing the distance between you two and wrapping his arms around your waist. He brought his head down for a kiss, gripping your waist tighter.

“Ok angel,” he said pulling back, “let me see what you’re going to wear for the showcase.”

You were taken aback by the change in topic. Shaking your head, you walked to your closet, pulling out an outfit you put together earlier in the week. You decided on some jeans and a black top, keeping it simple and neat. You started to untie your towel to change.

“Close your eyes Hyun.”

Hyunjin obliged immediately, not wanting to cross any boundaries and make you uncomfortable. You quickly changed into your outfit, letting Hyunjin know when you were done. Hyunjin opened his eyes, his gaze falling on you. You could make anything look beautiful and this was no exception.

“You look beautiful angel. So so beautiful.”

You blushed at Hyunjin’s comments, your eyes falling to the ground. “Thanks,” you mumbled.

You walked over to your desk, plugging in your hair dryer and curling wand. You slowly did your hair, making sure every strand was styled correctly, talking with Hyunjin the whole time. You were glad he was here, his company causing you to feel calmer.

“All done,” you said, turning your curling wand off and setting it down. You looked in the mirror for any stray hairs that wasn’t styled, but was satisfied with your look. “How do you I look?” You asked, standing up and giving a twirl so Hyunjin could see every aspect of your outfit.

“Absolutely stunning angel. I think it’s perfect for the showcase. Of course though you look good in anything.”

“Thanks Hyun.” You took a deep breath and let it out. “I guess this is it. I’m ready.”

Hyunjin nodded, standing up and making his way to you. He grabbed your hand and then you both walked to the door and started to make your way to the event of the hour. The whole way, Hyunjin held your hand, giving it a squeeze every now and then. You appreciated his presence, excited but nervous for him to see your work. You arrived at the building, pausing at the door.

“Well I guess I better go in,” you said, letting out a shaky breath.

“You’re going to do great angel. I’ll be there cheering you on the whole time okay? Can’t wait to see your paintings.” Hyunjin said with a smile on his face. He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss on your knuckles.

You smiled back before letting go of his hand and walked into the building. You made your way to your professor.

“Ah y/n! You made it! Your section is over there. You can go wait in that area. The doors should open shortly.”

You nodded, thanking her before making your way to the spot she pointed out. As you rounded the corner, you spotted your paintings, the canvases lined up next to each other, the overhead light shining on your works perfectly. You took a moment to look at them, happy with how they turned out. You could do this.

**************************************************** Shortly after, you heard the rustle of people moving about, the doors officially opened. The hall was filled with soft murmurs and laughter as people walked from exhibit to exhibit discussing the works on the wall. You took a breath in and let it out, prepared to engage with those around you.

Group after group passed by, stopping to look at your paintings, murmurs of praise floating through the room. You answered the occasional question, explaining your inspiration for the works. People smiled at you, and rained comments onto you. You could feel your face heat up at the praise, you graciously accepting their praise and comments.

You’re sure a few hours have passed, before a lady who looked important walked up to you.

“Y/n?” The lady asked.

“Yes, that’s me,” you replied, a soft smile gracing your face.

“My name is Iseul. I’m the manager of Expressions Art Gallery. I’m impressed with your work. It shows such emotion and the attention to detail is beautiful. We would love to display your paintings at our gallery. Is this something you would consider?”

Your eyes widened in shock as you held your breath. Letting it out, you smiled, “I’d be honored. Yes, I’d love to display my work with your gallery!” You were over the moon.

“Great, we will be in touch over the next few days. Congratulations once again y/n.”

You watched as she walked away, in shock at what just transpired. You were excited, to say the least, your dream coming true. You looked around, spotting Hyunjin making his way to you, a huge smile on your face.

“Hey angel. Wow, look at these,” Hyunjin murmured, his eyes glued to your paintings.

You watched his eyes wonder from one painting to the next, studying the detail you put into the work. When he came to the painting of him, he gasped, before turning to you.

“Is that me, angel?”

You nodded your head. “It is. You make me happy so I thought it fitting to paint you Hyun. All of the places and items up here revolve around our years of friendship. After all, I’ve felt happy all these years because of you.” You looked down, embarrassed at your confession, worried Hyunjin would find it weird.

“Angel, this is beautiful. I love that you included our story in your work.” Hyunjin turned to you and grabbed your hands, bringing them to his lips.

He smiled at you, kissing your hands before bringing them back down to your side. The moment felt perfect, Hyunjin approved of your paintings, he was here with you. People moved around you, their voices fading away as you focused on the man in front of you. Hyunjin gazed into your eyes before whispering “y/n.”

You were brought out of your reverie after someone accidentally bumped into you, apologizing as they moved on. You cleared your throat at the disturbance and looked once more at Hyunjin. He stayed by your side the rest of the night, standing aside when you spoke with others about your work and moving back to your side once you were done.

**************************************************** The night ended successfully, the last groups making their way to the exit. You let out a breath, ecstatic that tonight was successful. You turned to Hyunjin, “ready to go?”

“Of course angel. Wanna come back to my place?”

You nodded yes, grabbing his hand, as you walked toward the exit. Once you both were outdoors, you took in a deep breath, breathing in the fresh night air. The stars were out and the moon bright, illuminating your path back to Hyunjin’s apartment.

“Soooo, guess what Hyun?”

“Hmmm?” Hyunjin inquired.

“I met the manager with Expressions. They want to display my work at their gallery!”

“Angel that’s amazing! Congratulations! I knew it would work out,” Hyunjin replied squeezing your hand.

You were grinning from ear to ear, thinking the night couldn’t be anymore perfect. You both walked up the steps of Hyunjin’s apartment building, making your way to his place. Once inside, you plopped down on his couch, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth. Hyunjin sat down next to you, pulling you into his arms. You rested your head on his chest, Hyunjin grabbing the remote to turn it on to the shitty reality shows he likes to watch.

You both sat in silence, feeling comfortable in each other’s embrace. The day was exhausting so to say. You started to drift off, snuggling deeper into Hyunjin. Hyunjin looked down, watching you try to fight off sleep.

“Come on angel, let’s go to bed.”

Hyunjin turned the tv off before scooping you up in his arms and bringing you to his room. He sat you down gently on his bed, walking to his dresser to pull out one of his shirts. He handed it to you, walking to the bathroom to let you get changed. You shucked off your jeans and shirt and slipped his on, before settling back into bed. Hyunjin joined you a little later, leaving on the LED lights on his ceiling to cause a soft blue glow around the room.

He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your head before pressing a kiss to your jaw. You tilted your head, allowing him more access to your neck, allowing him to press wet kisses down your neck. He found your pulse point, lightly sucking on the skin, nipping at the area every now and then. You threaded your hands through his hair, soft moans falling from your lips.

Hyunjin pulled back, looking down at you. “So beautiful angel. My beautiful girl. Can I have you?” He whispered.

You nodded your consent, giving him a smile. Hyunjin smiled back before leaning down to press his lips against yours. He kissed you soft and sweet, his lips gently moving with yours, letting out low moans, as he squeezed you tighter to him. You could feel him filling out in his shorts, your slick pouring out into your panties. You rolled your hips against his, letting out a gasp at the feeling of his hard cock brushing against your clothed core. Hyunjin took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours. You let out a breathy moan, tightening your hold on him.

Hyunjin kissed lower and lower, pressing sweet kisses on your collarbone, his hands reaching under and up your shirt, rubbing your sides. He grasped the edges of your shirt, and started to lift it up and over your head. You laid back down after being freed from your shirt, your chest on display to the man above you.

“Absolutely beautiful, a work of art,” Hyunjin murmured, bringing his hands up to grasp your breasts. He massaged the flesh before leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You moaned at the feeling, as he sucked on your nipple, before giving the other nipple the same attention.

“Love your tits angel,” Hyunjin said before making his way further down, licking and kissing down your tummy. He placed a kiss at the top of your panties, his hands reaching to pull them down. He tossed them somewhere in the room, before looking down at you, laid bare before him. He gazed lovingly at your body, mesmerized by your curves.

He proceeded to lean back down, pressing kisses down your pelvis and thighs. You squirmed at the touch of his lips, wanting them elsewhere. Hyunjin continued to worship your body and press kisses on your thighs, nipping at your skin before he pressed a chaste kiss against your clit. You gasped at the feeling, before letting out a moan as he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit. Hyunjin latched onto your bundle of nerves, sucking the bud with his plush lips. You felt your slick leak out, the pleasure mounting as Hyunjin made out with your pussy. You rocked your hips, riding Hyunjin’s face, gripping his hair harder and harder with each passing moment. You were close, that familiar feeling of the coil in your belly ready to snap.

Hyunjin lifted his head, licking your slick from his lips. You whined at the loss of contact, watching as he pulled down his shorts, freeing his hard on. He stroked his cock, spreading his pre-cum up and down his shaft, his gaze never leaving yours. Bringing his cock down to your lips, he rubbed his cock through your folds, tapping it against your clit a few times.

“Hyun, please, need you. Make me yours please,” you whined, spreading your legs wider for him.

“I got you angel,” Hyunjin replied, pressing his tip into your entrance, before slowly sliding in. The stretch felt so good, you throwing your head back in pleasure. Hyunjin pushed and pushed until he bottomed out, a moan leaving his lips at how tight you were around him.

“Can I move angel? Can I make you mine?”

You shook your head yes, pushing your hips up to get him to move. Hyunjin smiled down at you as he dragged his cock out and pushed it back in. He rested his arms on the side of your head as he rocked his hips into you, gazing into your eyes. You tried to get him to go faster, begging for him to fuck you harder, but Hyunjin just shook his head.

“Let me make love to you angel,” Hyunjin gasped out. “Fuck I love you so much angel. My beautiful girl, all mine.”

You felt overwhelmed, the feeling of Hyunjin’s cock dragging in and out of you, in a deep but slow pace, little moans falling from your lips with each thrust. You kept eye contact with Hyunjin as he fucked you, whispering his name over and over.

Sweat dripped down Hyunjin’s face as he fucked into you, your tight pussy hugging his cock perfectly. You were made for him. He knew it all along, but these last few days confirmed the feeling. He rocked his hips at a slightly faster pace, his high approaching. He could tell you were close too, your whines getting louder. He brought a finger down to your clit, rubbing the bud to get you there. He wanted to cum with you, to drown you with his love.

You were close, Hyunjin speeding along your orgasm with the touch of his fingers on your clit. Your moans increased in pitch, the coil tightening, threatening to snap at any moment. You breathed out, again and again, your chest raising and falling with each thrust, the feeling more intense than ever before.

“Cum with me angel,” Hyunjin moaned out, his hips losing their rhythmic motion as he continued to rock into you.

With one, two, three more thrusts, Hyunjin came, his cum flooding your walls, the warmth of his cum and feeling of Hyunjin’s fingers on your clit bringing you over the edge. You felt intense ecstasy, your orgasm spreading throughout your body, the feeling more powerful than you ever felt before. You clutched onto Hyunjin, bringing him flush to your chest as he continued to rock his hips into you, riding out your highs together.

You both laid there, your breathing coming back to normal. Hyunjin lifted his head to press kisses against your face, murmuring “I love you” after each one. You sighed, more than satisfied, tightening your hold on Hyunjin.

After a while, Hyunjin detangled himself from you, slowly pulling his softened cock out of you.

“Let me clean you up angel.”

You watched as he left to grab a towel, and came to wipe you down, gently running the warm cloth up and down your body cleaning up the fluids painted across your nether region. He placed the towel on his bedside table before pulling you under the covers with him.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving your face. “Mine all mine.”

He couldn’t believe it, you were his, finally. He has you now and he wasn’t ever going to let you go. Pressing a kiss to your face, he soothed you to sleep, happy he met you all those years ago. Happy you gave a guy like him a chance. As his eyes closed, succumbing to sleep, he thanked the lucky stars that he was able to be with the girl who brings art to life and who is a work of art herself.

Taglist: @jeonginsleftcheek @jehhskz @thesilvernight0wl @armystay89

[casiia]

༉‧₊˚. — simon 'GHOST' riley; cooties.

warnings .: x reader, dad simon, afab ! reader, soso much fluff, unedited.

.: masterlist.

imagine simon’s daughter coming home with tears just running down her face, you’re trailing in behind and trying your best to hide your laugh as you console her.

“it’s just a myth, dear.”

but that only makes her cry harder, because she’s 7 and doesn’t know what the fuck a myth is. who is she supposed to believe…her loving mother who raised her and has never lied to her a day in her life, or the girl she’d met just an hour ago on the playground.

“it’s true!” she gasps out, wiping her wet cheeks with her palms, dramatically dragging her hands down her face as another sob wracked her tiny body.

you could only snicker silently as you brushed away baby hairs that clung to her cheeks. frankly, you didn’t know what to say; you’d tried everything to help your daughter and ease her of this new world ending conflict.

simon’s on immediate alert, normally he’s welcomed home with kisses and hugs and bottomless babbles about pointless things. hearing his baby’s loud cry followed by her quick and urgent footsteps makes him panic and his mind instantly goes to the worst.

hurriedly, simon makes his way down the stairs nearly breaking his neck when he trips over a stray toy — but he manages to grab the banister before falling to his death and peaks into the living room.

you’re sitting on the couch with her cradled in your arms, a tender and gentle shush whispered off of your lips as you untangle knots in her hair. your attempts to calm her down don’t, she’s as stubborn as her father, if not more.

“what’s going on, sweet pea?” simon asks, treading carefully as he inches closer to you, his eyes clouded with a mix of worry and question.

before he can sit down, the girl in your arms shrieks so loud he can hear it ringing in his temple. wincing at the loud intrusion, simon watches as his daughter shoots from your arms all the way across the living room, her back pressed to the wall and eyes wide with what seems to be horror.

now simon’s afraid, is there something on his face? did he forget to shave? is he even simon?

you only snort behind your palm, furrowing your eyebrows and returning back to your playful yet serious expression. “go on, babygirl. tell dad what she said.”

his heart is hammering in his chest now, what did she say — who are you talking about?

and he doesn’t know if that scream altered him deaf but all he can see is her lips moving. the sound of your quiet giggles calms him though, and you have to ask her to say it again.

“she said boys have cootie!” she screams, looking horrified — looking at her dad as if he’d grown a third head and eaten all of her halloween candy.

simon begins to open his mouth to say something, something along the lines of “who fuckin’ told ya that.” although the more he thinks it over he’s compelled to play into the roll. he pauses for a moment, concentrated on weighing out the pros and cons.

on one hand, it breaks his heart to see his girl avoiding him like this. going to the edge of the earth just to distance herself from him. crying out because her world is shattered, her dad? having cooties? what nonsense.

on the other hand. simon’s been hearing about this ‘jack’ boy that she’s been in love with on the playground, he even proposed to her with a fucking stick. his daughter can do better than that. and hell, she’s too young to be dating, she doesn’t even know her alphabet!

so with some quick thinking a small smile paints his lips, he opens his arms and watches as she hesitantly takes a step forward. his heart leaps at that, she’s willing to catch a fake disease of cooties just for a daily hug from her father.

“boys do have cooties, but not me, see this?” he reaches inside of his shirt and pulls out the dog tag that hangs around his neck, he gives it a nice tug and smiles a bit. “it’s cootie-repellent.”

another step, hesitant but slowly the small girl is inching away from the wall and closer to the awaiting arms of her dad. “r-really?” she asks, a hiccup following her shaky breath as she calms down.

simon only nods, he’s grateful that your daughter isn’t one to question much. a hard believer in anything she hears, to this day she still believes that fairy’s live in the freezer. he’s not sure what story he would make up if she began questioning him, maybe something with fairies. they were always his go to.

“y’want it?” simon begins to take the necklace off, holding it out to her. shes just an arms reach away, but she’s curious.

“yes.” she mumbles, her heartbroken expression from moments ago turning into that beaming smile that warms simon’s chest. “i’ll give it to jack!”

simon stills. fuck. no way was he going to lose his girl this soon. “nuh uh.” he laughs, quickly tucking the chain back under his shirt and pulling his daughter into his chest.

you watch as he ruffles her hair, her muffled screams falling onto deaf ears as she squirms and punches her dad, begging for him to let go. simon only tightens his arms around the flailing girl, peppering kisses all over tear stained face, watching her once glossy eyes crinkle with joy at her dad’s affection.

thank god for cooties.

[russellsppttemplates]

hi I love your writing so much

can u write a blurb of max and Julia and fin where they got in trouble at school and reader and max got called called for a parent’s meeting

Cw: kid being bullied

Note: thank you ✨️

"Did you notice anything weird lately?", you asked Max as he parked the car, "nope, they have been fine, they don't complain about anything, I'm not sure why they did this", he said, holding your hand once you were out of the car and walking into the school. After a quick chat with the secretary at the front to let the principal know you were there, you were welcomed to the office, Julia and Finn sitting in the chairs, feet swinging since they couldn't reach the floor.

"Thank you for coming", the principal said, shaking your and Max's hand, "I think it's best if they explains why I called you here", he said, sitting down as you did the same, facing your kids.

"We were in the playground, and we noticed there was a group of boys being mean to Lyla - she's the new girl I told you about, mama -, and they were calling her those words you told us were mean and bad", Julia said, "so I went up to Finn and his friends because I thought they could help since the boys calling her names were from the year behind them", your daughter reasoned.

"I went there with my friends to talk and then they took our football", Finn continued, "because of that, I tried to go get the ball back and when the other boy wad dribbling away from me, I ran and I nudged the ball as he was kicking it so the ball went on the window and it shattered", Finn said.

By the way your husband was closing his fists, you figured he was thinking about the same things and worried about the same issue as you, a different worry from the principal it seemed.

"I know I shouldn't have done that, and I'm sorry that I broke the window", Finn turned to the principal, "and I'm sorry if we disappointed you, but we wasn't going to let them carry on!", Julia reasoned as you and Max looked at both of them.

"We have also spoken to the other kids' parents, you were the last ones. Fortunately, it was the cleaning supplies' closet and no ine was there, so no one got hurt", the principal attempted to gain your attention as you both kept looking at your kids.

"Both me and my wife appreciate you telling us, but the only issue here is that you're allowing this in your school. We can pay for the window if that is your problem, but I'd like you to reflect on the whole situation", Max stated calmly.

"As you can imagine, we don't always have control of everything", the principal excused himself.

"Me or my husband won't apologise for what happened. Like you said, no one was harmed, but you should look into paying more attention to Lyla, it's not the first time it was brought to my attention that the little girl is being bullied and no adult seems to be worried about it, when that is in fact where your worry should be", you followed, tone stern and convict.

Leaving the money they asked for the repair, you and Max split up to go with each kid to their classrooms and get their backpacks, "I'm sorry they were mean Lyla, my love, but you did well in defending hour friend, it's a shame they didn't listen to you", you said as you looked at Finn towards the end of the sentence.

"It's not fair", Finn complained, "this principal isn't nice, I don't like him", he pouted.

"Finn, sometimes things don't go our way, and we shouldn't say that about people, okay?", Max lectured as he drove home, squeezing your thigh ans whispering, "as much as I believe what I just said, I have to agree. Since they changed principal, the priorities have been a bit all over tha place", he commented, "might be a good time to reconsider schools", you noted.

(Thank you for submitting an ask ✨️)

[jolalibrary]

cold, biting

frankie morales x f!reader | masterlist

Painting you in it, all varying shades, a masterpiece he thinks he’s came across, but really just became the first to admire.

wc: 1.3k warnings: smut (18+). mentions of smut. keeping warm. jo writing. my spelling. notes: I wrote this on limited sleep, cold, and very much wanting to have some form of body heat next to me. so maybe I should warn about spelling too.

It’s cold, biting.

All wintery breath trying to pierce through, bleed over memories of warmer months.

It makes your skin practically weep if it slithers from under the thick duvet, it trying to kiss you, the air tinged only with bitterness. It’s crawling, climbing—sliding up over surfaces, its icy touch desperate to create steam by meeting something warm.

Seeking, hunting—it wants to wrap its claws around flesh, seep into bone. It wants to nestle down deep inside of you so you carry that chill around all day.

It isn’t able to, because of him.

Him and his broad shoulders, loose curls, summer-kind smile and wiry hair that doesn’t grow in full places along his beard—a little space you trace, pretend it’s a heart. It’s where I kissed you all those years ago, wasn’t it? You would tease. Remembering a time when you were more cowardly than confident, more afraid than unforgiving. You’re thankful that isn’t you now

Yeah, he always says, left a mark on me. It’s always said with warmth, all comforting. Usually, his arms come around your waist, a kiss on your forehead.

You hope he’s aware he’s left marks of his own. Little things imprinted on you, carved in you, perfect places for his favourite colour to go, his favourite song, the things which make a bad day a little easier to get through.

You’d let him in during the spring, what feels like a thousand years ago. The flowers opening, the air warm and the sun shining. But, you fell for him in the summer over a year ago—BBQ smoke and little lanterns, fingers finding the softness of his skin and liking the way brick felt on your bare shoulders when the two of you stole a moment.

In the fall just gone, his things found themselves with yours, merged, a house becoming a home. Surfaces no longer innocent, but a playground, nails scratching, leaving marks of your own against things as he made your eyes head fill with stars and your body thrum with nothing but pleasure.

Winter brings something else.

It brings softer declarations whispered against the soap-sud glass. It brings the hungry look from him when he sees you in his clothes, even handing you a pair of socks just because. It brings longing when the bed feels too big, hand stroking out where he’s supposed to be—his voice down the phone doing nothing to fill the void.

He’s always wanted, practically a necessity, but in the colder months, it’s a demand. There’s room for complaint in the warmer months when his skin is clammy, legs far too desperate to slide themselves around yours. Body letting heat escape, it all rolling out, washing over the room.

But, it’s welcomed in the winter.

Pull me a little closer, you think. Lashes fluttering, smile half-sleepy. And he does, arm coming out, palm on your back, pushing and guiding until you’re more him than you are you. No clear line where the two of you part, just one singular soul.

There’s frost on the outside, and condensation on the inside glass. But the yellowing of the morning is still persevering in blanketing you in natural warmth. You look so beautiful, he whispers—and when he says it you believe him. Staring into his eyes, unwilling to find a single fabrication. Your stomach pooling with heat, a hunger awakening in you—one you have more often than not around him—as you lift your eyes to the incoming morning.

The window has popped, need to fix that, he continues, barely above a whisper, following your eye line, lingering on it.

So, you kiss him. Icy lips against his, feeling warmth bloom in your throat, descend down to your lungs. You lick into his mouth, tasting fire, hoping it fills your stomach, and forces heat to bathe your bones. Smother me, you want to ask, but instead, he makes flames lick up your spine. Pushing fabric to the side, fingers tracing, finding your seam—teasing, taunting. Making toes curl under sheets and fabric, little whispered pleas coat the skin close to his ear. Is this all for me?

Yes.

Always yes.

Frankie is precise, and knows just what to do. Listening to you, trained in doing so, even when words don’t leave your lips. It’s a gift, he smirked once, mouth coated in your slick, tongue flicking out against your core.

You couldn’t argue, he was a treat.

At some stage you’d wondered, practically suspected he’d found a manual for you. Figured out each zone that made you putty—thank fuck he did. He never leaves you wanting, never lets you beg for too long. Too eager to please, too happy to give.

You want my cock, yeah? Your response comes out breathless, more air punched from your lungs when he finally answers himself. So thick, so long—all compact, all you can think about as he stills, as he rubs two circles on your hip in that way he does until you relax around him, allow him to move. So tight, baby.

There are worse things to be than full of Frankie. You’ve experienced a portion of time before it, it doesn't hold a candle to the time that came when he rested his arm on the doorframe, and told you (in the most asking, polite way) that he was going to kiss you. You want to be full of him always, in all the ways it counts—like this, and in your heart, and in your soul.

A need for waffles on Sundays where At Last plays, and Wednesdays when he brings home a bag of takeout and the two of you see how long you’ll make it through the show before you’re on his lap. Insatiable, some would say, but it’s hard not to be when you’re happy.

His hand fans out over your lower back, skating over your skin—murmurs of softness, of perfection. Painting you in it, all varying shades, a masterpiece he thinks he’s came across, but really just became the first to admire.

Never stop.

You’d told him that then when his mouth—chapped and salty from pretzels—slanted over yours that first time. You repeat it now as his hips move, as he slides his hand up and across your shoulder blades.

And it’s not long until you’re panting, until his name forms part of your unconscious narrative. Repeating it, interspersing it with expletives and moans, each he takes, captures, bottles and keeps.

He’s a collector like that, a person who has a drawer solely of things which don’t make up anything on their own—screws, bolts, plugs and cables. You often wonder if he has a drawer for you inside his head, an array of Polaroids, made up from moments like this where he tells you how good you look, how beautiful you are, how perfect you feel hugging his cock, how good your pussy feels—

The room is filled with sinful sounds, wet, skin slapping. Music to the ears.

More, you shout only in the void in your head. Nails gripping, body tense, taunt and coiled.

Then you’re shuddering, blissfully turning to warm lava—spreading out, relaxing, unspooling. Held in place, mouth finding his, writing poetry on his tongue before his movements twitch, break their pattern, and your throat is coated in a moan of your name.

You swallow it, the way he says it. Makes you hate it a little less, and makes you want to hear it over and over—because in the day you prefer the nicknames, but at night you prefer the one on your certificates.

Breath caught, little wisps of air leaving both of you with each pant, he brushes your cheek—skin like a blaze, keeping the shiver from ever gracing you.

Let’s not go anywhere today, you say, sleep-filled and soft. Okay, he responds, sliding against you.

It’s less cold, and less biting.

But that’s because of him, your nose buried into his neck, heart hammering against your side. Then you hear the heating click on—but you still prefer him to keep you warm.

— for @secretelephanttattoo because it’s cold, I adore her and I want to make her smile.

[newvegascowboy]

"Hit me," Red says, apropos of nothing.

Although, Arcade muses to himself after a second of reflection, Red's motives are usually too impulsive and insane for Arcade to understand anyway.

"Why?"

"Because I want to see something," Red says. "So hit me."

"I'm not going to hit you, Red."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm-" Arcade cuts himself off. The word busy dies on his tongue. Red wouldn't buy it - they'd cornered him in a shady section of the fort, taking an over long break and debating the wisdom of having a smoke, free from under the eye of doctors who might tell him that he knows better. Like a specter, Red had appeared to alleviate his boredom. Or enable bad decisions. With Red, one never knew. "Because," Arcade finishes lamely.

Red grins, because it's a shitty excuse, and they both know it. "I know you're hidin' some muscle under that ratty old lab coat." One finger prods at Arcade's chest. He resists the urge to slap it away. "So use it."

"Usually if I hit someone, they've done something to deserve it," Arcade says.

Red's ever present smirk broadens. "Haven't I?"

Grudgingly, Arcade mutters, "Not lately."

"I could call you mean names if you like."

"You're a child." To Arcade's embarrassment, it comes out sounding fonder than he intends. This time, he does push the offending finger away.

Red huffs a little laugh, tilting their chin up. "I've been called worse."

"No doubt," Arcade says mildly.

"Prick."

Arcade laughs, a short snort of laughter he attempts to cover by looking away, towards the courtyard of the Fort, where Followers and Freesiders alike are bustling about. It's an overcast day - not cool by any means, humid and warm, but the world is taking advantage of the absence of the Mojave's merciless sun, however brief. Maybe, if they're lucky, it'll rain. The monsoons are fabulous, short lived, destructive and violent like everything else in this godforsaken desert, but Arcade would welcome the change of pace.

He turns his eyes back to Red, damnably two inches taller than him and always standing in such a way that forces Arcade to acknowledge it. "Work on your playground insults, cowboy. I'm not that easily riled."

"Liar," Red laughs. It is, regrettably, true. At least when it comes to Red. "Besides, I'm saving my better insults for when I need 'em."

"Do you anticipate needing them soon?"

Red shrugs. "You never know."

"No, you don't anticipate much," Arcade says. "Not much of a planner."

"I find that life is more exciting when it surprises me."

"I might agree with you," Arcade says, "If the surprises that usually involve you didn't take the form of bullets."

"Not always bullets. Sometimes bombs."

"Wonderful," Arcade says dryly.

"Come on," Red says, drawing the word out in a petulant whine unbecoming an outlaw of their fearsome reputation. "Don't be such a homebody. See something new."

"Where exactly are we going that you expect me to get into a fist fight?"

"The Ultra Luxe."

Arcade's mouth twitches. He glances Red up and down. "The Ultra Luxe," he repeats. "Tell me, are you planning on wearing dirty jeans and chaps, or did you have a set specifically made?"

"Ha ha," Red says bitingly, rolling their eyes. "I own nice clothes, asshole, I just don't run around the wasteland in rhinestones."

Arcade eyes the portion of Red's unbuttoned shirt, displaying a generous slash of tanned and muscled skin. Their rosary dangles from their neck today, glinting in the weak sun, over a belt buckle that reads 'Cocky'. "Maybe you should," he murmurs.

"I thought I was the one antagonizing you?"

"Do a better job," Arcade shoots back. "Or have you lost your touch?"

Red sniffs, drawing back and crossing their arms. "Prick," they say again.

"Why me?" Arcade asks. "Why not Veronica? Or Boone?" Or Cass, Red's one-time paramour - but he doesn't know if they're on speaking terms. Arcade isn't sure he knows the story there, and isn't sure he wants to.

Red snorts. "Boone? He's worse than I am for what I have in mind."

"And Veronica?" She's better at a fistfight than Arcade, that's certain.

"I already asked. Apparently, her version of a good night at the Luxe doesn't involve bloodshed."

"Neither does mine," Arcade mutters. Red only smiles. Sighing, Arcade pulls off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. "If I hit you, can we be done with this conversation? I do have work to do."

The look on Red's face says that Red does not believe him in the slightest, but they nod, stepping back. Arcade replaces his glasses and shrugs out of his lab coat, laying it over a nearby crate. He unbuttons his cuffs rolling up his shirtsleeves, and tries to ignore Red's smirk.

"I like the show, Gannon, I do. Really feel like I'm gonna get it."

"Keep running your mouth, and you will."

Red's grin turns sharklike. "Is that supposed to turn me off?"

Lifting his fists, Arcade sighs. "I don't think anything does," he says, and swings.

His fist hits nothing but air. Red sidesteps his first swing with ease. Arcade frowns, stepping forward and swinging again. Boots scuff the gravel as Red steps back, moving with an ease that someone their height, with the broadness of their shoulders and dense muscle, should not be inclined to possess. They continue for a few more blows, Arcade swinging and Red deftly sidestepping, until Arcade drops his hands.

"I thought you wanted me to hit you?" He huffs.

"Yeah, you're doing a piss poor job, aren't you?"

Red doesn't seem offended, a small smile picking up at the corner of their mouth. Warm leather flexes as Red's gloved hand squeezes his knuckles, then drops and gently pushes his fist away. "Never knew you had it in you to fight dirty, Gannon."

Growling, Arcade steps forward, going low and from the left. It's a low blow - Red's blindspot - but he's seen Red in action enough times that he isn't surprised when their left hand flashes up and catches his fist.

And - Arcade should know this. He knows how good Red is in a fight, knows that Red is intimately familiar with the anatomy of violence and anything involving it. If there is one thing Red does best above all, it is killing. Their blind spot would be a legitimate weakness if all Red's instincts didn't scream for them to compensate. If anyone managed to land that blow, Arcade has no doubt it would be the last thing they ever did.

"Maybe I just knew you wouldn't let me hit you."

Red's eyebrows raise the barest fraction. Arcade clears his throat, but doesn't glance away. "Well," Red says. "I am vain, I'll give you that much. I'd hate to let you ruin my good looks. You telegraph the shit out of your punches, by the way."

"Are we done here?"

"No." Red steps forward. Arcade's mouth thins. Gloved hands sieze Arcade's wrists before he can drop them. One boot slides between Arcade's legs, nudging his feet apart. "Bend your knees a little," Red murmurs. "There, like that. You're under-rotating your hips. Not putting as much power behind a punch as you could be. Gotta throw your body weight around a little, Gannon."

Red is close enough that all Arcade can smell is the mix of sweet tobacco and clove, leather and smoke that clings to Red's skin. There's something spicy underneath - pine, maybe. Cologne. Abruptly embarrassed, Arcade attempts to pull back, but Red's got a hold of his hands and their grip is firm.

Glancing up from under the frame of his glasses, Arcade watches as Red pulls his hand up. The knuckles of Arcade's right hand gently make contact with the left corner of Red's jaw. "There," Red says, voice soft and oddly intense. "You win."

Arcade doesn't have it in him to pull away. "Are we done?" He asks instead.

Slowly, Red releases him and steps back. They watch as Arcade unrolls his sleeves and retrieves his lab coat from the crate. Arcade shakes it out, lookjng for an excuse not to look at Red. Their little scuffle had gone unnoticed by the Followers at the Fort, but Arcade knows Julie will hear about it somehow, and will have stern words with him about fighting in the compound. What she doesn't understand, and what Arcade barely understands himself, is that it is seemingly impossible not to give Red exactly what they want. They talk around it, bicker and argue, and no matter how sound Arcade thinks his logic or willpower is, somehow he always caves.

When he finally looks up, the odd intensity that had possessed Red is gone, and they're smoking idly while leaning against the wall. Their eyes are turned out towards the compound, but they glance his way when Arcade looks up. Pushing off the wall, Red says, "I'll pick you up at seven."

"What?" Arcade says. "I never agreed to go to the Luxe with you!"

Red only blinks slowly. "Are you gonna wear that old lab coat," they start, "Or do you have something specially made?"

Arcade flushes. "You are such an asshole."

Red laughs and begins their retreat towards the gates. "Seven," they call, then turn on their heel and jog out of the fort.

Arcade sighs. Seven.

[casper-spills]

| Tarot Cards: Places they represent |

✩░▒▓▆▅▃▂▁𝟑𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥!▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░✩

Hey guys! Welcome back to another post ♡

We reached 300 followers! And I'm gonna do a special for you guys because I seriously am so grateful for all of your support. My blog has been growing so fast and I literally never expected to be where I am today. Thank you! ♡

This post will be a little different to my usual stuff. I was thinking I might start a series like this where I give some tips on how to read your tarot! I'll also include the sources I use at the end in case you wanted to check those out too.

Anyway, here is a list of places that the cards represent ♡

Sincerely,

Cassy the friendly ghost ♡

✦Masterlist ✦Paid Readings ✦Support me through Kofi

𓆩♡𓆪 𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙍 𝘿𝙄𝙎𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏 50% 𝙊𝙁𝙁 !! 𓆩♡𓆪

Ends on September 22nd

| KO-FI SHOP |

| MAJOR ARCANA |

1. Magician - Kitchen, labatory, shows, music, magic, performances

2. High Priestess - Secret place, secret society, library, somewhere quiet, reading rooms, theatre, halls

3. Empress - Old/stately homes, old school building, old hospital building, boutique, beauty parlor, restaurants

4. Emperor - Royal palace, business establishments, schools, univerisity

5. Heirophant - Church, univeristy, temple, place of worship, corporate building

6. Lovers - Sweet shop, date locations, love hotel, honeymoon places

7. Chariot - Car ralley, racing fixtures, garages, horse racing, highway

8. Strength - Zoo, petting zoos, gym, fitness studios

9. Hermit - Cave, retreat centres, hill walking

10. Wheel - Ferris wheels, london eye, casino, lottery tickets, shops selling wheels

11. Justice - Court, arbitration offices, counselling institution, police department

12. Hanged Man - Bungee jumping, sky diving, thrilling activities

13. Death - Church yard, funeral parlor, butcher, cemetary

14. Temperance - Cocktail bar, queues, waiting rooms, chemist dispensary

15. Devil - Adult shops, clubs, casinos, brothel, strip clubs

16. Tower - Chop shops, tall buildings, skyscrapers, stormy areas, fire

17. Star - Water, ocean, river, stargazing

18. Moon - Nighttime, stargazing, movie, stage, theatre

19. Sun - Birth centre, midwifery unti, hospital, holidays, tanning booths, abroad

20. Judgement - Rehabilitation centres, church, treament centres, spa

21. World - Airport, flying, dance studios

| MINOR ARCANA |

☁︎ 𝒔𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 ☁︎

Ace - Editor's room, skyscrapers, office, library, radio tower

Two - Statue of liberty, new york, seashore

Three - Hospital, rainy place, cloudy areas

Four - Bedroom, quiet places, funeral parlor

Five - Debate club, near water, themepark, competitive environments

Six - Boats, river, cruisers

Seven - Archery, secret location, casino, bomb shelter

Eight - Prison, therapy

Nine - Psychiatric hospital, confessional

Ten - Surgery room, accupuncture clinic, dentists

Page - Fraternity, rowdy places, sports arena

Knight - Windy places, windmills

Queen - Fenced off places, great walls, boundaries, spikes fences

King - Lawyers office

🕯 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 🕯

Ace - Workshop, construction site

Two - Balcony, overseas, historical travel, boat

Three - Seaside, boat travel

Four - Fastfood, cafe, outdoors, wedding, celebration

Five - Sport centre, pool game

Six - Market, downtown, show, event, someone/something noticable

Seven - Competitive/violent environment

Eight - Road trip, highway

Nine - Competitive environment, barrier, wall, bouncer, high security

Ten - Workplace, labour, sweatshop

Page - Disco, dance, party

Knight - Hot and dry place, bonfire, abroad, holiday

Queen - Social events

King - Active place, fast moving environments

꒦꒷ 𝒄𝒖𝒑𝒔 ꒷꒦

Ace - Lake, pond, birdbath, birds

Two - Luxury, home, common dating places

Three - Bar, pub, party

Four - Under a tree, graveyard

Five - A place of regret, place of bad memories, hospital, flooded areas, bridge, after party cleanup, alone in a bar

Six - Flourists, schoolyard, playground, nostalgic places

Seven - Highup places, views, drug suppliers, spots where people do drugs, drug shops

Eight - Bookstore, library, cave, quiet

Nine - Bar, party, pub, dinner, home

Ten - Family gatherings, park, outdoor, bbq party

Page - Aquariums, fish tanks, sea parks

Knight - Picnics, peaceful/romantic areas

Queen - Bathtub with cancles, home, skinny dipping, swimming

King - Beach, lake

˗ˏˋ 𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒔 ˎˊ˗

Ace - Dispensary, bank, currency exchange centre

Two - Circus, arcade, carnival

Three - Fashion show runway, art gallery, boutique, museum

Four - Uncle scrooge's home, gold reserves, saferoom, secret hideout, vault

Five - The streets, people living in powerty, homeless spots,

Six - Pawn shops, currency exchange shops, trade stores

Seven - Nursery, orchard

Eight - workshop, construction site

Nine - Gardens, green parks

Ten - Market

Page - Field, farm, family business

Knight - Workplace, chores, school

Queen - Home, nursery room

King - Bank manager's office

♥Thank you for your support!♥

Dividers by @cafekitsune, @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Source

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Revealed love

Hii I hope you enjoy this Oliver Bearman on-shot to celebrate that next year he'll drive for F1 :)

We both met at a very young age, you had just moved into town and switched schools and that's how we met and as I close my eyes a rush of memories come flushing in.

It was a bright, sunny morning, and the schoolyard buzzed with the usual energy of children ready to start their day. As I walked towards my classroom, I noticed a new face among the familiar ones. He was standing alone near the entrance, clutching his backpack nervously, his brown eyes scanning the crowd with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

Something about his uncertain stance tugged at my heart. I could see he was trying to muster the courage to take that first step into unfamiliar territory. Without a second thought, I walked up to him, my curiosity and innate kindness propelling me forward. "Hi, I'm Y/N," I said with a smile, extending my hand. "You must be new here." He looked at me, his eyes wide with surprise, and then a shy smile crept across his face. "Yeah, I’m Ollie," he replied, shaking my hand. His grip was tentative but warm. "Welcome to our school, Ollie. Come on, I'll show you around," I offered, sensing his relief as he fell into step beside me. As we walked, I pointed out the different classrooms, the playground, and introduced him to a few of my friends. The initial awkwardness faded quickly, replaced by easy conversation and shared laughter. Ollie had a quiet charm about him, and his shyness soon gave way to a sense of humour that matched my own. By the time the bell rang, signalling the end of recess, it felt like we had known each other forever.

From that day on, Ollie and I were inseparable. We navigated the ups and downs of school life together and his career as a racer, our bond grew stronger with each passing year. We shared secrets, dreams, and countless adventures, always there for each other no matter what.

Ollie wasn't just the new kid anymore; he was my best friend, my confidant, and an irreplaceable part of my life. As I think about that day, I can't help but smile, grateful for the twist of fate that brought us together and the enduring friendship that throughout the years has grown into a crush.

"Are you okay? You've been very quiet tonight," Oliver asks, concern evident in his voice. "Yeah, just lost in my thoughts, thinking about us actually and how much has changed since we met, and even though I'm so happy that next year you'll be in Formula 1, everything will change." I say as I look into his eyes. "Y/N, you are one of the most important people in my life, and I understand how you feel. It's terrifying, but at the same time, you know it's something I have to do." Hope fills my heart as I hear his words, until they are crushed. "Besides, you are my best friend. I could never forget about you," he says nervously. I'm speechless, my thoughts a mess. "I understand, Oliver. If you'll excuse me, I need some air."

As you walk onto the patio, the cool evening air does little to soothe the turmoil inside you. Footsteps quickly follow, and before you can take another step, a hand gently catches your arm. "Y/N, wait," Oliver says, his voice laced with urgency. "I know there's something more. You only call me Oliver when you're angry."

That's it. You can't hold it in any longer. Words pour out, driven by months of pent-up emotion. "I'm not angry, Oliver. I'm exhausted. I keep waiting for you, but you never come. Is it all in my head?" Your voice wavers, the vulnerability in your words hanging heavy in the air.

Oliver's expression softens, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and regret. "No, it's not in your head," he says quietly. "I… I've been trying to protect you."

"Protect me?" you repeat, your confusion mingling with frustration.

He takes a deep breath, his hand still on your arm, as if afraid you'd disappear if he let go. "Yes. From everything. From the scrutiny of the F1 world, from the chaos that surrounds my life. I didn't want to ruin our friendship, Y/N. I didn't want to risk losing you."

Tears prick your eyes as you look at him, the weight of his words sinking in. "I don't care about any of that, Oliver. I care about you. I've loved you for so long, and it hurts to think you don't feel the same."

His grip tightens ever so slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. "I've loved you too, Y/N. From the moment we met, you've been the most important person in my life. I thought keeping my feelings hidden was the right thing to do, to keep you safe. But I can't keep hiding it anymore."

You take a shaky breath, the raw honesty in his words giving you strength. "So where does that leave us?"

Oliver steps closer, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek. "It leaves us right here, together. You'll never have to be alone. I love you, and that's all I really know. We'll face everything together, no matter what."

Tears finally spill over as you lean into his touch, your heart swelling with relief and joy. "I love you too," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

He pulls you into a tender embrace, his lips finding yours in a kiss that feels like coming home. The world around you fades away, and for the first time in a long time, everything feels right. In that moment, under the stars on the patio, you know that no matter what challenges come your way, you and Oliver will face them together, your love stronger than anything else.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

It's Who We Have | Part One

Summary: Who knew the little girl in the green coat would change everything? | Word Count: 5.7k~ | Warnings below the cut!

General Taglist | Billy Washington Taglist | Series Masterlist

A/N: The coat story is based on a real story that happened to me when I was in primary school. Also the age of consent in the UK is 16, and this chapter does mention being intimate at that age. If this bothers you, you're welcome to click away. Primary School = Ages 7 to 11, Secondary School = Ages 11 to 16, Sixth Form = Ages 16 to 18

Warnings: bullying, underage drinking, angst, mentions of sexual intercourse (reader is of legal age), Billy being a general twat

It started with a rain cloud.

It was at a time when he was still excited to be in the passenger seat of his Mum's old Ford Focus. When his enthusiastic little feet still didn't touch the bottom of the footwell. His curious, wide blue eyes watched the world go by, following the shadow of the car as it zipped by the older kids, who were trusted enough to walk to school by themselves.

Year 4 was no particularly exciting year. At the tender age of 8, Billy was highly introverted, but a perpetual watcher of other people as well as his immediate surroundings.

He noticed the little things that other people didn't, like how electricity hummed in the walls of his bedroom, how the space between the grass was worn down into a man-made path and how, on the dot, every night at 8pm a man walked past his house grunting down the phone in a low baritone, swinging his suitcase at his side with every wide step.

His parents noticed how perceptive he was when he'd slip away upstairs as he heard the metal click of the gate with Lana's late return home. Knowing that an argument was about to ensue between his sister and his dad.

His mum, intent on breaking up and being the buffer between two extremely large personalities, often neglected her quiet little boy upstairs. But it wasn't entirely her fault.

Lana, a teenager through and through, intent on creating hardship wherever she happened to be with her actions and words, was incessantly butting heads with both of them.

He could hear the low rumble of thunder even over the revs of the car. His mum always drove in too low a gear.

His mum laughed lightly when Billy looked up at the dark, looming cloud hanging over his school as rain smacked against the windscreen.

"Ooh dear. Good job you've got your raincoat, eh?", she smiled, turning her steering wheel to slide into the school car park.

"What did Miss Warren say it was called?", she prodded.

Billy could barely see his mother over the high collar of his coat.

"Cum…ulo…nimbus", he recalled from memory sweetly and quietly, making his mum's crow's feet tick against her eyes as she smiled.

"There's nothing to be nervous about, darling. It's just a new school year".

His mum's soft pat on his head didn't comfort him.

Though the same people would be there, it would not be the same teacher.

Miss Warren had seen how quiet Billy was and nurtured the few words she could get out of him. He remembers her fondly. How she had curly chestnut hair that one might describe as unruly, and always had a floral scent about her when she'd kneel next to him and ask if he could recite the last sentence of his book to her.

It was the only good thing about school, he thought.

Year 3 had been difficult. He didn't do well when he was forced to socialise.

Other children had thrived in regularly seeing others. Forming friend groups, squealing with delight on the playground and the girls giggling and whispering to each other about who they were going to talk to that day.

He held his mum's hand loosely at the gate, where the headmaster was filing the children of all years and ages into the main part of the school.

She knelt beside him, zipping up his coat as the rain pelted against the concrete.

"I'll pick you up after your club, okay?" 

Billy nodded once, disappearing past the threshold of the school with a downwards gaze and a comically large bag hunched high on his shoulders.

It started with a rain cloud.

He knows now that it was silly, the reason his now best friend entered his life.

When he first saw her, she was on the verge of tears, standing to her feet and looking down at herself completely covered in mud. Her lips quivered, looking at the group of established friends with horror as they rushed away, their shoes smacking on the wet ground.

He hadn't realised he'd stopped until she took a sharp breath in, clearly trying not to cry, looking down at herself. 

Her small hands tried to push the mud off her green coat, but only served to smear it around. He could hear her shudder her breath, frustrated, and began to whine with increasing volume. Her book bag, once blue, was completely sodden.

And on top of all that, rain continued to hammer down on them, which only made her more upset.

Billy fiddled with his hands nervously, looking around immediately for an adult, to no avail. Thinking with terror, that he might have to approach her. 

It wasn't even because she was a girl. For they were at that tender age where it didn't matter. That they were just children, trying to figure out how to exist in a world that seemed brand new everyday.

He hiccuped on her own breath with tears as he stood before her.

"Are you okay?", he asked nervously.

She could only shake her head, her eyes full of fear, her face and hair completely wet through.

"My mummy's going to be cross with me", she replied feebly, looking down at her coat, though waterproof, completely smeared with earth.

At the time, Billy thought, he couldn't argue with that logic that she was so upset at the thought of what her mum would think when she came home, covered in half-dried mud, having been pushed by the rowdy Year 6's.

He also thought, that he hadn't seen her last year, and that this was the first experience she'd had in her new school. And that he, if in her position, would be no different. Snivelling and crying before they'd even taken the register.

He grimaced as he picked up her book bag, slick with earth and without thinking twice, took her cold, wet hand and led her with him to the toilets before registration started.

Billy's big eyes flitted between the signs for 'boys' and 'girls' when presented with the toilets.

He decided to spare her the embarrassment, and took it upon himself to lead her into the girls toilets, despite the heavy blush on his face.

Seeing the inside of the girls toilet, while not much different, felt utterly forbidden.

But all he could think about right now, was the little girl he'd led in, and how to make her look presentable, and to get her to stop crying.

He used what felt like a tonne of blue hand towels, wetting some to get the majority of mud off her and the rest to dry her coat, seeing the rich green colour beneath again finally.

She still sniffed quietly, rubbing her tired face and choking on her breath every now and then. He gave her one blue paper towel to dry the remnants of her tears, the tissue rubbing painfully on her skin.

But ultimately she let him help her.

And Billy couldn't remember feeling as useful to someone as he did right now.

Once her book bag was clean, he gently handed it back to her. And she finally lifted her reddened eyes to him, her lips still quivering slightly, or perhaps she was cold from the onslaught of rain.

"That's better" 

She nodded at him, looking down at herself to see her coat was now only slightly dirty.

It was almost unnoticeable, her tiny, meek 'thank you'.

He held her hand in solidarity as they entered the classroom together. Coming alight when he told her where she could hang her coat up and sitting beside her, in line with the girl, boy, girl boy rule their new teacher had put in place.

It took her a few hours to warm up to him. To everyone really.

But he saw her again the next day, his feet swinging excitedly in the passenger seat of his mum's car at the prospect of seeing her again. The clouds Billy was scarcely able to pronounce were now gone, a light grey overcast instead on the early September morning.

Her coat was clean, a bright green as it was the day before.

She still seemed nervous as he bounded up to her, his curious eyes searching hers.

"Was your mummy angry?" he asked.

She looked down at her shoes, shifting her weight, not wanting to reply.

And Billy had his answer.

He watched her lift her head to meet his eyes again, her hands wringing together nervously and her voice all quiet.

"Can I sit next to you again today?"

Billy had grown out of hand-holding by Year 6, realising that he, as a boy, and her, as a girl, were supposedly from different worlds.

But it never felt like it.

Secondary school was daunting for all Year 7's. But Billy, tall for his age and towering over everyone else, felt more self conscious than usual that he stuck out so much.

His sandy blonde hair flopped against his forehead. Another measly early September, confined to a classroom to be patronised and talked at for several hours, passing the time only by making colourful cover pages in their exercise books.

"Billy!"

He couldn't help but laugh as she ran through the school gates to him, looking quite different in the secondary school uniform than he saw her last, which now felt like a lifetime ago.

Realistically, he only saw her the other week as they walked home together from the corner shop. Then, she'd been in jeans and a jumper.

Now, in her school mandated skirt and blazer, he thought she looked more like a young lady now than ever. And briefly, it terrified him.

The prospect of getting older.

The idea that they might drift apart.

He brushed her waved tendrils from her face, exhausted from the effort of running with her cheeks all flushed, with that squishy appearance that many associated with Year 7's.

If anyone didn't know then both, they'd think they were in different years.

"Got 'em?", he asked with a lazy smile.

She rolled her eyes, rifling around in her bag, "Um, yes? When do I ever disappoint?" 

He laughed as she ripped three Starbursts from her packet and piled them in his hand, "Only three? Thought we were mates".

She gave him a look, popping one into her mouth, "You are my mate, hence why I gave you three".

They walked together, collecting their timetables for the term ahead, rolling the sweets around in their mouths.

"I don't get these room numbers", she mused, "have you got science in S27?"

"Yeah, Mr White".

"That's alright then, I'll just follow you".

"Don't follow me, I've got no clue where I'm going either".

She smiled widely, "guess we'll get lost together then, eh?"

He let out a puff of air in laughter, tugging lightly on her ponytail in soft teasing, "bad luck to be late to your classes on the first day, ya know".

"Well then they should have a map", she pouts, smacking his arm lightly.

Looking back, he wasn't surprised how close to her he felt. For as pre-teens edging that fine line into puberty, when everything is confusing, new, scary and exciting all at the same time, he saw her more often at school everyday than he did his own parents.

She was a constant.

Most days they'd walk to school, spend break times, lunch times, and even the twilight hours after together. Always chatting mindlessly about whatever teenagers did talk about.

It was difficult to address though, that the older they became, the more the powers that be were intent on separating them.

Girls and boys weren't meant to be friends.

They were meant to like each other, hold hands, blush and kiss each other.

They were meant to have different classes, teaching different things. Boys were taught how to keep themselves safe from STIs, and the girls were taught about their monthly cycles, though many of them had started already, as well as how to prevent pregnancy when they were on the cusp of exploring their intimate, sexual selves. With hormones raging so hard that they couldn't think straight.

They were separated for PE. Even in the subjects they were offered to take.

It felt like everything was against them.

And in this forced separation, Billy was then forced to make friendships in other boys, as shallow and surface value as they were.

He felt as if he'd been missing out on this part of growing up, as he sat against the wall at lunch listening to his mates harp on about mindless teenage things. Like who was going to lose their virginity next, and if their parents would find out if they found out they'd swiped a packet of fags from their mum's handbags.

It wasn't like they didn't talk anymore.

There were the summer holidays, where more often than not, he found himself on her doorstep, asking her Mum if she could come out.

And she always delighted in seeing him. Even if it had barely been 24 hours since the last time.

But with the highest of highs, came the lowest of lows. And September would inevitably roll around again.

He sometimes saw her on school grounds between classes, having done the same thing and forced herself to make a group of friends. Though it was as clear to him that she didn't have anything in common with them, and just smiled and nodded at anything they said in an attempt to not show on her face how lonely she was.

She was solitary in nature.

And when he glanced at her across the assembly room, where the foldout chairs were lined up so everyone could eat, her eyes were distantly looking at her hands clasped in front of her, idly picking at her cuticles. Her friends were turned away from her, chatting with wide smiles and booming laughter to themselves. Making plans and giggling at inside jokes, all while her sandwich laid untouched rolled in cling film in front of her.

He thought, she must have been able to sense someone was watching her, as she moved her head. But never looked at him.

While Billy's friend group stayed with the usual characters, hers evolved. And every few months it was a new cast of people.

He saw she made the effort, and really tried, but that with every passing day, her energy wavered and eventually they'd grow bored of her and pretended as if she didn't exist other than to fill the empty seat beside them.

But he still walked her home, even if she said she didn't want him to. In silence if need be.

Eventually he began to notice, more so now than ever, that she was really a woman in disguise. That she was wiser than he thought she was, more grown up. That she thought about the future ahead of her and was careful to take calculated steps in order to get there.

At the fair age of 16, Billy, his features set into crisp lines, hardened by puberty, his muscles sitting wiry on his skin and taught without really having to try, realised that he had done her a huge disservice by merely accepting this forced separation with a stiff upper lip.

That she needed someone true and gentle, honest and no-frills. Something her girlfriends were unable to give her. 

That she wanted someone to try for her friendship.

As he had all those years ago.

They began to take the long way home, through the gap in the hedges, into Cranstead Fields, the tall grass tickling their legs through their uniform.

"Are you embarrassed of me?" she asked suddenly, pulling her hair tie out. Billy's eyes ran over her loose hair for a moment before replying.

"No, why?" 

"Because we barely talk to each other in school anymore", she replied, unable to hide the bitterness from her tone.

He had to accept that her words were true. They rarely crossed paths inside the school gates, and their conversations in between were shallow and empty, void of all authenticity and emotion.

It wasn't enough to have acceptance from one teenage girl, apparently.

But he didn't appreciate being called out so callously about it.

"Yeah, well I've got my mates".

She laughed through her nose, "Yeah, saw you smoking behind the bike sheds. Gonna get you killed one day, you know".

He furrowed his brows at her, "Smoking?"

"No, your mates"

She laughed at his confused expression, "course I meant smoking, you wolly".

There was a silence between them as they brushed past the white painted lines on the field, where a football pitch had been drawn.

"I don't mind you having mates Billy. I just miss you".

"Really, cos it seems like you do mind", he bit back. And he watched her raise her gaze to him quickly, "just cos you don't have mates doesn't mean I can't".

Her lips hung in shock that he could say something so cruel.

And that he carried on.

"Do yourself a favour and do what other girls do and get a boyfriend or somethin'. Save you hanging about with me moaning all the time".

He didn't feel bad about it until the moment she disappeared past her mum at the front door of her house, intent on being away from Billy's harsh words as quickly as possible.

"Tell your mum I said hello, love", her mum smiled.

But as soon as the door was shut, even the thick double glazing couldn't muffle the loud, destructible tirade of her mum's anger.

And he felt the hot whips of panic at his neck, that he'd done and said something wrong.

And yet, despite that, never said sorry for it.

Billy thinks now that he remembers the most from this part of their friendship because the most happened.

But he realises now that it's because of guilt.

It follows you, like a kind of trauma through your life, without the repercussions of the person you've hurt.

And god, he watched her get hurt a lot.

After that, she didn't even really try. She flourished in solitude, keeping herself company wherever she could while Billy and his mates reaped the benefits of being young and dumb. 

It was also when he appeared. Like a fucking virus. Always finding people when they have their guard down and their hearts low.

Even though they were in the same year, he had this air of arrogance about him that he thought he was much older, more sensible, and could be taken more seriously.

And with the absence of Billy in her life, she accepted any chance of feeling wanted with open arms.

She wanted to feel important to someone.

Billy would never forgive himself for that.

He simply watched from afar, not realising how invested he was, more often than not from the bike sheds as the boy who was trying too hard wound his web so tightly around her it must have felt comforting for her to some degree.

To be choked by affection, to some, is a kind of affection.

After Easter break, having not spoken to her directly for some months now, Billy had realised something had changed.

The boy who had wound his web tight, seemed to do so with plenty of others too. As boys of his age were known to do.

She'd rush out of school so quickly, staring at her feet, that often she was the first one out the gates and Billy, even if he'd wanted to, couldn't keep up.

He knew where she was going anyway.

He was assured when he saw her leaning her head on her arms crossed over her knees, under the large chestnut tree at Cranstead Fields.

She heard him approach, and turned her head away, sniffling quietly.

He swallowed over the lump in his throat as he sat beside her, not speaking.

And a long, long moment passed. As if all that time apart had lessened that trust, and it would take more than a mere moment to patch it back up.

"Is it him?" he asked.

Her clothes rustled as she nodded. Her breath hiccuping in her chest the same way it did when he saw her all those years ago, covered in mud.

"What happened?"

She wiped her face with her sleeve, a bit of makeup coming loose.

"What do you think happened", she bit back, annoyed and heartbroken all at the same time.

He briefly forgot, that for girls it sometimes felt like more, like so much more, to give yourself to someone for the first time.

Only to have the trust squashed as quickly as it was to slam a book shut.

She sucked in a breath as he stroked her back comfortingly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

After a moment, she raised her eyes to him, all red and puffy, her face all hot from crying.

And he felt his heart break for her.

Behind this girl, who was suffering in heartbreak, believing that her first love and first time had now been entrenched in misery, he caught a glimpse of the girl she had been, when they were inseparable.

He tutted, "Come here".

He bought her head to his chest softly, his hand drifting to her shoulder to encourage her to hug him, to let it all out.

And she did.

She hugged him tighter than she ever had before. 

A teenage boy part of him felt embarrassed. But another, fought to stay here like this with her.

Until eventually she said pitifully, "I don't want to go home".

And he realised that it wasn't just the boy she was upset about.

Luckily Billy's mum delighted in having her around at his, even offering that she could stay if she wanted to, as Lana was away at uni and wouldn't be using her bedroom til the summer holidays.

And though he could see his friend was tempted, she mostly refused, knowing that at some point she'd have to return home. To what version of her mum, she didn't know.

But it didn't mean she never took them up on the offer sometimes, when things were really bad.

Yes, he got teased endlessly by his mates.

But it didn't matter. Because he felt like he had her back.

Sixth Form proved to be a happier time for both of them.

It felt more free, laid back than the shackles of secondary school. Hindered by school uniform and calling the teachers 'sir' and 'miss', here it was all backwards they thought.

The prospect of free time to a bunch of excited teenagers, on the cusp of adulthood, was exciting.

He felt like it was just like old times.

They sat together in the common room in their free period, sharing the cheapest thing they could get from the canteen, which was four flimsy slices of toast. That and an orange Fanta from the vending machine.

They'd both somehow formed into new people over the summer holidays between Year 11 and Sixth Form, wearing different things every day and giving each other a glimpse into their truer personalities.

At first, it was just two of them.

And eventually four, then six.

A solid friend group. 

She had two girls at her side most of the time, Libby and Ami. The first blossoming Billy would ever witness of his friend into womanhood would be the way she formed these friendships so naturally, in contrast to the shallow ones she'd had in secondary school. Which now seemed so long ago.

He had his own mates of his own sex. Ami's twin brother Abi, Harry (who's real name was Barry but never told anyone) and the most recent addition to the group, Paddy.

It was a friend group of the truest intentions. They laughed, joked, and were never far from one another. Many nights they spent at Cranstead Fields, huddled under a tree, passing bottles of WKD around and some horrendous smoky whiskey Paddy had managed to steal from his dad's liquor cabinet.

But there were special moments where Billy and her would just sit and observe, nursing a bottle between them.

"Bet you Libby and Abi are necking each other off by 1", she smirked, gesturing with her head to them as they sat together across the grass, Libby inching herself onto his lap with every swig of alcohol.

Billy laughed, "I don't think I need to bet on that", he replied, pushing the hair off his forehead as it touched his eyelashes.

"You need your hair cut", she smiled.

He gave her a look, "Who do you think I'm trying to impress?"

"I dunno", she shrugged, "you never tell me who you've got your eye on".

He pushed the WKD into her arm and she took it, smirking as she sipped it.

"I suppose…there's a girl a year up…", he murmured.

"See! I knew it!" She exclaimed, "Wait, Year 13? Who? Tell me".

He rolled his eyes at his friend's curiosity, "Rebecca".

He laughed when she scrunched her nose in disgust.

"Her? She's been out with a few Year 12's, hasn't she? Proper little cradle snatcher".

Billy laughed, louder than he anticipated, and when he opened his eyes again, his friend was already looking at him. Her eyes all glazed over with the amount of alcohol she'd had already.

"Leave off. You asked", he grins, blinking quickly once he feels his head clouded with dizziness.

"Well", she passes the drink to him, "I wish you luck, you'll need it".

They briefly look back to Libby and Abi, who are now embroiled quite blatantly in kissing one another, Libby nestled in his lap and her hand at his jaw.

In the distance Paddy kicked a ball around with Harry, as Ami watched between them, not an ounce of sexual tension between them.

Their knees touched and both quickly looked at each other, as if horrified that they hadn't realised how close they were.

It was dark in Cranstead Fields, but she felt she could see the way his eyes reflected the distant street lamps, how they seemed to fit over her face, and how he pressed his lips together and swallowed nervously as he moved a piece of her hair from her face to tuck safely behind her ear.

Was is the alcohol? This weird feeling in both of their stomachs? The airiness in their heads?

Was it only now that he saw that she had nice eyes? That he could see the contours of her collarbone, and the curves against her skinny jeans?

That his friend, was a young woman.

He only remembered sighing against her lips, turning his head to the side as he pressed against hers. How small she seemed compared to him.

She tasted of cheap vodka, but then again, so did he. And he wasn't entirely paying attention to the taste of her, but to the feeling of her.

It wasn't either of their first kisses. But it certainly felt like it.

He felt his chest go tight as her hand moved to the front of his hoodie, holding the fabric in her palm, as his tongue parted her lips.

When they pulled away, he still felt her presence on him.

Her hand slowly slipped from his chest, her eyes looking at him with trepidation, her lips kiss-bruised and swollen. Both of them looked at one another, unsure what to say, and trying form words over the whirring and melting feeling of drunkenness in their brains.

"I, uh…I should be getting home", she said quietly. And Billy nodded, now drunk on another feeling that had taken root deep in his chest.

He saw her off at her doorstep, hands deep in his pockets, not knowing whether what they'd done should be addressed or not. Or whether their brief kiss was the result of simply having too much to drink too quickly.

She had her answer though, when Billy turned up to Sixth Form the Monday after, hair trimmed, with his arm loosely around Rebecca's shoulders. He spoke to her closely, making her laugh and stroking her hair behind her ear, as he had done to her the Saturday before.

Though they remained close. Remained friends. There was an air of something unsaid. 

Something that appeared whenever she saw him with her. Pressing his lips against hers, threading his fingers into her long, perfect hair and keeping one hand perpetually around her thigh.

When Rebecca, or Becky as Billy lovingly called her, finished her A-Levels to move onto Middlesex University to do Psychology, she felt horrible that she was relieved she was gone.

Felt that she had him back, even if it was only sometimes.

She knows now, that nothing good lasts forever.

She thought he'd be happy for her, when she got her UCAS email that she'd gotten into her first choice of university in Manchester.

But he always managed to surprise her.

"The fuck are you going to uni for? And so far away as well, you don't even know anyone there", he almost barked the words at her, not wanting to admit that his heart was hurting at the way she looked so wounded at him.

"So what? It's the course I wanted to do and-"

"And what? You just gonna leave me here doing fuck all, are you?"

"You can do what you like, Billy!", she shouted back, matching him now in frustration, "I'm sorry that I am pursuing what I want to do!"

Don't leave me behind.

Please.

"What about your mum? Hm? You just gonna leave her on her own?"

She scoffed, "my mum doesn't give a fuck where I am half the time, you know that".

"Yeah, I'm feeling like I don't really know you at all lately", Billy muttered under his breath.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean? I wasn't going to just forget about you. I'd come visit and-"

"You know what, forget it. Do what you like, I don't give a shit".

She stood there, taking his words like hits. Each one hurting more than the last, opening the hole inside her wider.

She thought, he must not know what he's saying. She never knew Billy to be this cruel, apart from in secondary school.

But he was young then, he was smarter than that.

Wasn't he?

Her eyes filled with tears, blinking quickly, taking a step back from him like he'd burned her.

She tried her best to remain strong on her face.

"Just because I don't want the same things as you, Billy, doesn't mean it's pointless".

When Billy just stood there, mouth half agape, like everything had just caught up with him, she shook her head.

"Keep in touch, if you can be bothered".

She said it as coldly as she could, not looking back as she walked away from him, quickly wiping her cheeks. With each step, the pit widened in her chest. Feeling as if the string that had inextricably connected them since that fated day in Year 4, was prone to snapping irreparably.

His words rattled around in her head the entire journey to Manchester. How horrible they were. And how a person she'd considered a friend, could speak to her like that.

After everything that had happened between them.

Moving to a new city didn't feel like starting over. It merely felt like burying something at the bottom of the garden, the grass disturbed, and having to look at the patch of earth as a reminder of what once was.

It was hot again in London.

Billy stared at his phone for most of the evening, waiting for a text from Becky, to tell him that she was moving back in, or that she'd thought things through and decided not to move out.

No such text arrived.

"Put your fucking phone away or I swear to god I am funnelling this pint down you, like it or not", Paddy laughed as he slid into the booth, sliding one pint over to Harry and the other to Billy.

"He's still moping", Harry smirked, which earned a glare.

"Becky again?" Paddy prodded.

Billy sighed, clicking off his phone and turning it face down, "None of your fucking business".

"Woahh! No need for that, is there? C'mon, get it down ya" 

Each of them took a healthy sip of their pint.

"You too, don't be on your phone!" Paddy nudged Harry, trying to get a peek at his phone.

"Fuck off"

Paddy grinned, "Aw, is it a girl?"

"No, it's fucking Abi, you twat".

"S'alright, we don't judge, do we Billy?"

Billy grinned over the rim of his glass in response.

"He coming?" Billy asked.

"Yeah, apparently with Libby", Harry replied, thumbs moving quickly over his screen, "we'll facetime Ami later, when she's awake".

Both Billy and Paddy's eyebrows raised as they looked at each other.

"Together?" Paddy prodded, but Harry only shrugged.

The local pub was mostly empty, with most people outside trying to catch the last bits of sunlight, and getting mauled by mosquitos in the process.

For the most part, Billy watched Paddy and Harry with a smile on his face at how they teased each other talking about trivial things like football and what the hell was going on between their two old friends who kissed in Cranstead Fields all those years ago.

It was a good distraction.

But being with them, made him think of her.

Paddy leaned over, eyes on the door of the pub, "there they ar-oh shit".

Billy furrowed his brows, "What?"

His friend was about to open his mouth again, but it was interrupted by Libby poking her head around to the booth, "Hello! Oo, it's like the gang back together, isn't it?" she smiled.

At her side, Abi, who slid his hand around Libby's waist.

Billy opened his mouth to say hello.

But then he saw her.

And his mouth went completely dry.

He saw her eyes scan the opposite side of the booth, smiling at Paddy and Harry first, and he swears his heart drops into his stomach as she shifts her gaze to him.

The smile on her face falters. 

But not completely.

She catches herself halfway, and it resurfaces.

He can't help the way he studies her as well, like she's a whole new person. Wearing a summer dress with a denim jacket hung on her shoulders, hair down. Her features have matured, but she continues to keep that glimmer of mischievous youth in her eyes.

It was like seeing her for the first time.

"Mind if I sit?"

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard | @bellstwd | @blairfox04 | @hb8301 | @jamespotterismydaddy | @mochi-rose | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires | @risefallrise | @theoneeyedprince | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya | @urmomsgirlfriend1 | @valeskafics | @watercolorskyy

Billy Washington Taglist: @fan-goddess @assortedseaglass  @chainsawsangel @xxxkat3xxx

[sweetprfct]

Cruel Summer

Aaron Warner x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Aaron Warner have been secretly seeing each other since the beginning of Spring. The problem is that your parents are part of Omega Point, the rebel group of The Reestablishment. While Aaron’s father runs The Reestablishment along with other leaders from other continent. From secret meetings to I love yous, you start questioning if all of this is worth taking the risk.

Author's Note: Hello, here's my first Aaron series. First off, I ctrl+delete Juliette in this AU. Second, Aaron is in his late twenties in this story and so is the reader. I try to make everything as accurate as possible but it has been a while since I read the first three books for the series, so I might forget certain details. Anyway, comments are welcome! Let me know if you want to be tagged. Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: 18+, mention of violence, smut, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 5.8K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

It was raining.

It was always raining these days. If not, the sky was dark and gloomy. You didn’t know how long since the last time you saw the sun. Since The Reestablishment had taken over and wars had broken out all around the world, the sky was just blanketed by dark gray skies. You remembered your childhood and how the world was back then. Sunny skies, pink sunsets, children on the playground. You would hear the ice cream truck around the neighborhood during summer. You remember spending Christmas and Thanksgiving with your family. It was your favorite time of the year. 

Autumn and Winter. 

Now, it was just cold, gloomy and rainy most days. The weather was pretty much unpredictable. Broken buildings, fires breaking out, civilians lost around the streets outside or getting shot if they didn’t follow The Reestablishment’s rules. You have seen the brutal things the government had done to those civilians, and it hurts to see them suffer and it hurts even more knowing you couldn’t do anything about it. Your parents had warned you to stay away from trouble. To always stay alert because you never know what The Reestablishment would do next.

Your parents were part of a secret organization called Omega Point. They ran it along with their friend Castle. The group took in people who have some sort of supernatural abilities and aimed to destroy The Reestablishment. You, however, didn’t have any special abilities. You were only part of the group because of your parents. 

Castle was always alert, and he seemed to know more than what he led on. You couldn’t help but wonder if your parents also knew more than what they usually would tell you. You were always good at spying and sneaking out. That was your talent and most of the time, you were always successful in your own little personal agendas. Your parents knew that too. So, you figured they wouldn’t lie to you, knowing that you would eventually find out anyway. 

There was that one time that your parents had caught you sneaking out of the Omega Point base back in the Spring. They were furious over it that you were stuck for two weeks in your room because they didn’t want you going anywhere. You didn’t care though because you had an interesting time that night. You had sneaked out and pretended that you were part of the little gathering of The Reestablishment’s leaders. You were always so curious as to what they did. Curious how great their life must be in that part of Sector 45. 

And you were right. 

Because you saw everything. They had everything they wanted as if the world didn’t burn down and everyone was living in this hell. Most civilians could barely find any food to feed themselves and here they were living like Kings and Queens. 

“Are you lost?” 

His voice made you jump. You were at the back of the building, looking through the window and trying to see what was happening inside. You never had anyone caught you before. Ever. Not even your parents when you were spying or sneaking out and here he was, standing over you. As you looked over your shoulder, you saw a man with blond hair and piercing green eyes. He was staring at you with some sort of curiosity. Some trespasser, he probably thought. You were, but that didn’t matter because you were supposed to act like you were part of this gathering. He was in uniform and on his uniform it said, “Sector 45 CCR, A. Warner.” Your eyes shifted at the name, and you knew then that you had to make up some excuse to convince him that you belong in this little gathering. 

“Um… no.” You shook your head, straightening your clothes. “Just trying to get some air.” 

His emerald eyes studied you as you stood there with your back straight, acting like there was confidence radiating out of you. However, you could feel your heart beating out of your chest. It was running a million miles per hour, and you were terrified that he would be able to hear it. He furrowed his brows and looked over his shoulder to see the dark clouds blanketing the city. You knew he was wondering what you meant by that because it had been a while since the world had an actual fresh air. It made you even terrified that he probably realized that you weren’t part of this little party. 

“Hm…” His eyes studied you from top to bottom. “Which continent are you from? I’ve never seen you before.”

Your heart was gone. You couldn’t feel it anymore as you tried to make up some excuse but thankfully, he was called by another soldier from a distance. You immediately hid behind the post, so you wouldn’t be seen and just like that, he walked away. A sigh of relief washed over you as you watched him enter the building with the soldier. 

Sneaking inside the building, you made sure everyone else was busy and made your way up the stairs. You didn’t bother taking the elevator since you might bump into some more people and then, you were met with a long hallway, bright fluorescent lights illuminating it.

It made you feel like you were in a hospital.

Walking down the hall, you found the Supreme Commander’s office. The name Anderson was on the door and quietly, you turned the knob and peered your head behind the door. It was empty and dark. You looked around the office and went around the desk to find some sort of evidence to prove that The Reestablishment was doing something wrong. 

Something that could help Omega Point take down The Reestablishment once and for all.

Letting out a sigh, you pulled one of the drawers, but it was locked. All of them needed a key. Looking through all the files on his desk, you couldn’t find anything interesting nor the key to open up one of the drawers. You figured maybe he kept it safe with him. Hearing footsteps coming from down the hall, you walked out of the office and rapidly walked back to the fire escape staircase only to be met with the same man again.

He furrowed his brows and tilted his head at you. “What are you doing here?”

You sighed, “Can’t find the bathroom. Where is it?”

He turned his head to the side and gave you a side eye before walking back down the stairs and led you down onto another long hallway. 

“Thanks.” You murmured and entered the restroom. 

You waited a few minutes until you saw the shadow of his footsteps disappear. Unlocking the door, you looked both ways before finding the exit and out the back of the building again. You quietly hid from the soldiers that were on the lookout until you felt a hand cover your mouth, and you were pulled into a dark alley. 

Your fight and flight mode immediately turned on as you struggled in the person’s grip. You tried to reach for your knife in your back pocket, but the person was pulling you in their arms too quickly. Using your elbow, you jabbed the person right on their stomach as they groaned softly from the pain. You told your legs to start running as fast as you could, but you felt their hand grab your wrist and immediately, all you felt was the stinging pain on your back by the brick wall.

The light from the post illuminated his face, and you saw that it was the same man you met earlier. He pinned you against the wall, his hand clamped over your mouth, and his green eyes were wide. He quietly held up his index finger in front of his lips to let you know to be quiet as you both heard footsteps from a soldier from a distance.

He pulled you away from the light and hid you from the dark corner until the soldier had disappeared.

“Who are you?!” You whispered, anger in your voice. “Why do you keep following me?!”

An amused soft laugh escaped from him as his face leaned closer to yours. 

“I should be asking you that, love.” He whispered. “Who are you, and why are you sneaking around the building?”

You swallowed every emotion that was washing over you right now. Your heart was beating a thousand miles as you stared into his eyes. They were icy pale green. His features were sharp, and he looked sort of beautiful. Almost unreal.

“You could answer me or I could get one of the soldiers to throw you out or worse.” He added, his voice was cold and stern, his spare hand finding his gun on his holster. 

Your eyes followed where his hand was, and you kept your mouth shut. You couldn’t say a word. You couldn’t risk putting your parents and all your friends in danger because of one mistake that you made. Maybe you should have listened to your parents. Maybe you should have stayed back in the base and all of this wouldn’t have happened. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes studied you and his brows furrowed.

“I’m a nobody.” You finally replied, your voice stuttering. “J..Just lost.”

His eyes kept studying you until he took a step back and finally let go of you. You exhaled a sharp breath and looked at him for a moment. He looked distressed. He looked lonely. You didn’t really understand how you knew that, but you could see it in his eyes. 

“Go before someone sees you.” He said, his head hung low. 

You were ready to run because you should be, right? So, how come your legs weren’t moving? How come you couldn’t bear to leave him like that? 

“Y… You’re just gonna let me go?” You asked. 

He lifted his head, his eyes boring into yours. It made your heart beat faster again as he said, “Be glad I’m irritated tonight. I don’t have the energy to take you into a prison cell or kill you and make a whole scene.”

Taking a few steps back, you looked over your shoulder one more time before running off. That was when you were met with your parents when you arrived back at the base. They were furious. Asking you a bunch of different questions as to where you were and how dare you leave the base without letting anyone know. Your best friend, Kenji, was standing behind them. A disappointed look in his eyes as they sent you to your room and told you that you were going to be watched for the next two weeks to make sure you weren’t going to make any more reckless decisions.

Then, after two weeks passed, you found yourself outside the Omega Point base. You were walking near the water, your thoughts pinwheeling and wondering how long were you all going to hide? You kept asking if this was how the world was going to be until you died. Kept wondering how much more damage The Reestablishment would do until everything would fall apart even more. Wondering what else they did underneath all those metal tall buildings. What decisions and plans were they planning? 

Then, you felt that familiar touch grab you by the wrist. You let out a small shriek as you were pulled in the nearby forest—at least what was left of it—

“You.” Your eyes widened. 

You looked around for soldiers but there was no sign of them. You had told Kenji what happened that night. You described the soldier as someone who looked unreal, beautiful and part of you thought you were dreaming that night. 

“I don’t know, maybe there’s something in the air at their base.” You lightly teased. 

“You said his uniform said CCR A. Warner?” Kenji’s eyes widened. 

“Yes, why?”

You saw the worry that washed over Kenji’s face as he said, “That’s Anderson’s son. Warner is the most brutal and heartless Chief Commander in Sector 45. Jesus Christ, Princess!” 

Anderson’s son? You knew about him, but you hadn't realized it was him, especially with the fact that his name was Warner, not Anderson.

“Brutal and heartless?” You tilted your head. “Then… Then why’d he let me go that easily?”

“I don’t know but there’s something wrong about it. You need to be more careful! You don't know his agenda, and you might end up dead next time.”

Warner. 

Kenji’s words echoed in your head as you shook your wrist from his grip. You didn’t know what it was but there was something in his eyes today. Some concern he was feeling. If he was so heartless like Kenji said then why could you see the human inside him? 

The son of the Supreme Commander of Sector 45. Warner was the Chief Commander and Regent. The man that the soldiers were afraid of because of how cold he was. He could kill someone in a heartbeat and not have an emotion over it. How much of a robot he was as Kenji told you. You still couldn’t understand why he let you go unharmed. How he didn’t kill you for spying. You didn’t understand one bit of it. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice was low and ice cold. “Are you here to kill me? If so, just do it now—”

“No.” He shook his head, his eyes stared at the ground. “I know who you are.” 

He took your hand and dragged you further in the forest until you both saw the lake. He dropped your hand and pinched the bridge of his nose and paced back and forth in front of you. He whispered your name, and you wondered how he knew that. Although, knowing that he was the son of the Supreme Commander, you realized they probably kept files of everyone. 

“You’re part of Omega Point.” He stated, his tracks stopped and he stood in front of you. 

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. If he knew about you, then he probably would have known all the members of Omega Point. Kenji, Castle, you… your parents. 

Maybe you knew nothing of this world after all. Knew nothing about what The Reestablishment did nor what Castle and your parents knew about the new world. 

“H…How did you—” You shook your head.

“Doesn’t matter.” He took a step closer. “My father…” He took a deep breath. “I think…he’s killing… children. Killing certain people.”

You didn’t say a word. That revelation was a shock to you, but you knew there was something going on. You knew it was more than just taking over the world. More than just building up a new world, new rules and destroying every bit of history from the past. 

“That was why you were there, weren’t you?” Warner asked, his voice was stern. “You knew about this?”

“No.” You said. “I… I knew there’s something more going on. I was there to find evidence, but I wasn’t able to.”

“Well, I did.” Warner replied, his head shaking. “I think…”

“I…I’m sorry.” That was all you could manage.

You didn’t exactly understand why he was here. Why was he telling you all of this? What did he want from you? Why did he risk coming out here to talk to you? 

“I’m not.” He said. “I knew my father was vile… A psychopath.”

“What are you saying?”

“I want to help take him down.” His green eyes went dark as it met yours. “I want to kill him.”

A small gasp escaped your lips as he took another step forward towards you. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as Warner looked up and stared at something behind you. 

“Meet me in that cabin at night.” He murmured. “I will look for more information and evidence that could help.”

You followed his eyes and saw the cabin just not too far. It was behind the tall redwood trees. This forest was the only thing left of this broken world, and you didn’t even realize there was a cabin right there. It was too hidden. 

“But—” 

But before you could say anything Warner had already left. You were left in the middle of the woods with your thoughts again. In the beginning, you were terrified to actually go through and believe what Warner said. You didn’t know him and he was part of The Reestablishment. How would you know that you could trust him? How do you know that he wasn’t playing a double agent? 

When you had sneaked out that night to the cabin, you brought yourself a few weapons in your pocket just in case you needed them. You couldn't bear to let Kenji know what you were doing. At least until you were sure about all of this.

Looking around the forest, you saw no sign of other soldiers, but you couldn’t help but wonder if they were just hiding. Entering the cabin quietly, you found Warner sitting by the fireplace. He had documents laid out all over the coffee table and wooden floors. You closed the door behind you and studied the image in front of you. For a moment, you slowly started to believe what he told you. He did brought the evidence. He brought every document he could find in his father’s office. 

“What are these?” You asked, settling yourself on the floor next to him.

You couldn’t help but notice that he was in his suit. Did this man ever wore anything else other than his uniform and suits? Your eyes then studied his blond hair, his long golden lashes and his eyes that were focused on the papers in front of him.

“Records of the children that mysteriously disappeared.” He said, gazing up at you. “But there was no evidence why they disappeared.” 

He gazed up at you, green eyes staring into yours. It was almost enchanting that you had to look away and focus your attention on the papers in front of you. Both of you spent the night looking through the documents, but you both couldn’t seem to find anything. They were all just records saying that they either died from an accident or they disappeared out of nowhere. No hard evidence at all.

Then, another night came and another and another. Kenji started noticing your late night routine until you finally told him the truth.

“Are you insane?!” He whisper-yelled in the middle of the hall. “This is not a good idea, Princess.”

“Just please trust me?” You pleaded. “Just please cover for me if my parents or Castle look for me.”

“Nuh uh!” Kenji shook his head. “I’m not going to agree with your little suicidal plan with Warner.”

“Kenji, he could be the key to finding all these records. I’ve seen it. Please just give us more time.”

Kenji stared at you for a moment before exhaling a sharp breath and said, “I hope you realized who you are talking to every night in that secluded cabin.”

A smile creeped up on your face as you pulled your best friend into a hug and thanked him. Then, a week of meeting with Warner had become two weeks then one month. Then, two months until Spring ended and Summer finally came. Not that it mattered since the weather stayed the same. It was rainy, dark and gloomy. 

The more you spent with Warner, the more you saw a different side of him. His walls were slowly unraveling in front of you, but it wasn’t to the point where you knew his personal secrets. His personal life. You have never seen him smile, he was always so serious. But he had told you about his father and how his mother died. That was the closest personal thing you have known about him.

It was awful.

His father tortured her and gave her drugs until she turned into almost like a wild animal. Warner mentioned how his mother’s ability was that no one could touch her, but her power was so strong that she could feel the pain of her own skin and suffered until she died from it. You were slowly understanding why he hated his father and why he was rebelling against him.

At least you thought you understood all of it until that one night… 

“Here.” He handed you a box.. 

“What is this?” You furrowed your brows and opened up the box.

Inside, there was wrapping paper and once you had ripped it open, you found a green dress, almost the same color as his eyes. You held up the dress in front of you and then stared at him, confused.

“What is this for?” You asked.

“You don’t like it?” He grabbed the dress from your hands. “I’ll change it. I don’t know your favorite color.”

He couldn’t even look at you. He was staring at the dress in his hands and then, you realized something. The dress was the most obvious one out of all the things he brought every time you met up with him. It was food at the beginning. Then, a nice blanket. Told you that it gets cold at night in the cabin, and it annoyed him to see you shivering all night. Then, you found some fancy soaps in the bathroom, which you never understood because you never took a shower in the cabin. Then, the cabin was slowly being decorated nicely. You thought maybe he was trying to make it a lot cozier. 

But no.

He was doing all of this for you. He was giving you gifts, but why? 

“No,” you took the dress back from his hands. “I like it. Thanks.”

You studied the dress in your hands for a moment then, you felt his presence in front of you. Suddenly, you felt the air between the two of you shift. His fingers found a strand of hair from your face as he tucked it behind your ear. You gazed up at him through your lashes and found his face inches from yours.

You couldn’t breathe. 

His fingers brushed gently against your cheek, and a small gasp escaped your lips. He never touched you. He was always distant even when he was sitting next to you. It was almost like there was a wall between the two of you but the moment you felt his touch, all of a sudden, you saw that wall crack. 

“You’d look beautiful in that dress.” He whispered.

The air in your lungs suddenly gave out. The wall he had put up between the two of you had split open. 

“Warner, I… I don’t understand what’s happening.” Your words stuttered, you could barely find your voice.

His hands then cupped your face as his green eyes were staring deep into yours. His eyes sparkled, and you were a glass almost breaking into pieces. His touch was the only thing that was keeping you glued together for a moment. He held your face like you were something so delicate that he was afraid he'd break you if he wasn’t careful.

“Do you know how much it’s killing me that I can’t hold you?” He murmured. “How much it’s killing me that I can’t stop thinking about you every second of the day?”

“Y…You can’t stop thinking about me?” 

His thumb traced the outline of your lips before his nose grazed against yours. You held your breath as you closed your eyes. You could feel the heat radiating off your body and all of a sudden, you couldn’t think straight anymore. 

“I can’t stop thinking about your eyes, these lips…” his thumb softly touched your lips, almost like a feather-like touch. “...your voice—god, your voice.”

His hand slipped at the back of your head before he said, “I don’t want to scare you away.”

Your breath hitched, “You’re not.”

His sharp features were right in front of you, and his eyes studied each detail of you. You forgot what it was like to breathe. Time has stopped. Time froze the moment he pressed his lips against yours, and you didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. He tasted so sweet. He tasted like peppermint. He kissed you hungrily and desperately like he has been waiting for this for a long time. He pulled you close and pressed your body against his. Your hands slid on his chest, and you could feel his chest heaving as he let his lips trailed down your jawline and down your neck.

You were gone.

You didn’t know how you were still alive because you had stopped breathing a long time ago. His kisses sent shivers down your body. It was something you never experienced before. Never felt before. It was so soft and at the same time, it was something so special. A luxury that you never tasted before. 

Warner scooped you up in his arms and carried you towards the bedroom, setting you gently on the bed. For a moment, he pulled away from the kiss. Both of you were breathless, and his fingers were caressing your face softly.

“I…I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” He whispered. 

You gazed up at him, breathless. “Then, kiss me again.” You murmured before pulling him close to you again. 

His lips kissed down your neck and down to your collarbone as he tugged on your shirt and pulled it over your head. You couldn’t breathe. You weren’t here anymore. His lips trailed down to your chest, and his hand gripped your hips as you ran your fingers through his hair. A jar of butterflies exploded in your stomach and fluttered all over your body. 

“Warner.” You whispered.

“Yes, love?” He gazed up at you. 

“Are… Are you sure about this?” 

Your heart was drumming hard in your chest and you swore, he could hear it. There was nothing more you wanted than this, but you knew how complicated the situation was. You didn’t want to wake up tomorrow and find him gone. You didn’t want to wake up and find out that he regretted it. Most of all, you wanted to trust him. Believe him that this was real. 

“I’ve never wanted anything more than this, love.” He said. “You’re consuming every part of my soul, and I can’t explain why.”

You slid your hand behind his head and pulled him down to kiss him deeply. Your heart was pounding hard, and you felt the world stopped around you. 

It was just you and him. 

You fumbled through the buttons of his shirt and immediately slid it over his broad shoulders. Pulling away from the kiss, you gazed down at his body, your fingers ran down his bare skin and you heard a breathless gasp escape his lips. Your fingers ran through the hills and curves of his muscles on his stomach. Then, you saw his tattoo that sits right on the bottom of his torso. Just below his hip bone. 

Hell is empty and all the devils are here. 

Your fingers grazed over the words, and you saw Warner’s chest went up and down as you continued to touch him.

“So… beautiful.” You whispered. 

However, you didn’t know what happened or what you said to him because you saw something shifted inside him. His eyes had gone dimmed and he immediately pulled away from you. You furrowed your brows and questions started running in your mind.

“What is it?” You asked.

“I…” He shook his head. 

You were confused. You watched as he repeatedly shook his head. He looked embarrassed. He got up from the bed and so did you. He kept taking a step back, and he looked jittery. 

You never saw him like this before.

“Warner…” You took a step forward.

You wanted to reach for him, but he was pulling away from you, and you didn’t understand why. You thought this was what he wanted. 

“I’m not…” His voice stuttered. 

Then, when he bent down to pick up his shirt from the floor, a gasp escaped your lips. Immediately, you walked towards him. You hesitated to touch him, but you saw it. You saw all of it. 

Scars.

His back was covered with them. Right on his upper back, just between his shoulder blades, there was also a tattoo that said:

IGNITE.

“W—What happened?” You asked, your fingers finally grazing over the scarred skin of his back. 

He winced from your touch as he turned around to face you. His face looked like he was in pain as he stared at you for a moment. 

“It’s repulsive, I know.” He said, sliding his shirt back in his body. “They’re birthday gifts from my father from when I was five until I was eighteen.”

You couldn’t help but clamped over a hand on your mouth, another gasp escaping from you. You felt the tears welled up in your eyes as you shook your head. Warner couldn’t even look at you. He turned his head to the side and stared at the wall. 

“I’m not beautiful, love.” He murmured. “I’m repulsive, and I’ve killed people before. Tortured them…” 

You were frozen for a moment. Trying to comprehend everything that you just learned. You knew his father was vile and a psychopath but the thought of Aaron having to go through that kind of abuse? The thought of him being trained by his father to kill people? Anger washed over you. Turning to face him, you walked across the room and cupped his face in your hands, letting his green eyes find yours.

“You’re not repulsive, and I’m not redacting my statement.” You said sternly. 

There wasn’t anything else that you needed to say to convince him to believe you because he was now cupping your face in his hands, his emerald eyes sparkling. You could hear your heart drumming in your ears as he pulled you in for another kiss. A hungry and desperate one but at the same time, it was all so soft like cotton candy. You slid his shirt away from his shoulders again as he carried you to the bed and towered over you. He was breathless as he kissed down your body, and you swore the room started to spin.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this was what heaven was like. If this was it. If you finally died and went to heaven. If you did, it was peaceful. Quiet. The only one that was looking at you was this man with piercing green eyes and leaving you soft feathered kisses all over your body like you were something new. Like he had never had something like this in his life, and he was afraid that he'd lose it if he didn’t hold on to it tightly. 

Your thoughts were gone as soon as you felt him unzipping your pants. The rest of your clothes were on the floor, and you were lying naked in front of him. You felt the blood rushed to your face as he studied you, a small smile lingering on his lips.

“So enchanting.” He whispered before pressing his face on your neck and leaving soft kisses on your skin. 

“I think…” He breathed heavily. “...my heart has exploded a million times.”

You smiled softly and cupped his face, looking right at him. You have never known this kind of look before. You have never seen anyone look at you like this before. Repeating the words that Warner just told you, you couldn’t help but think about how your heart also exploded a million times because this…

This was everything. 

Being with him was like a safe bubble that you wished you never wanted to leave. If you were asked, you would stay in this cabin forever. You didn’t care about anything else. You just wanted to be with him everyday and that was how it went for the next few weeks. You sneaked out of the base and saw Warner almost every night. It was an escape from this cruel world. A happiness you never knew existed but time was never enough. 

It was always never enough.

You always found yourself going back to the base in the early mornings, hoping you wouldn’t be caught by anyone. It was the perfect time since everyone would be asleep and the streets were empty during those hours. 

“You’re late.” 

You stopped in your tracks right before entering your room and turned around to find Kenji standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Sometimes you hated the fact that his power was invisibility because this man always appeared out of nowhere.

“Only five minutes late.” You corrected him. 

“I don’t like this, Princess.” Kenji said.

You looked around to make sure no one was around before pulling Kenji inside your room and let out a sigh. 

“Please, Kenji.” You murmured. “I do appreciate you covering for me every night but please understand that this is important to me.”

“Important?” Kenji raised his brow. “You’re meeting up with Warner. Anderson’s son. You know, the one who made this whole shit show of a world in the first place? The one we’re trying to take down?”

“I know, I know.” You raised a hand up to stop him. “But he isn’t like that. He understands what we do, and he wants to help.”

Kenji let out a scoff. “How sure are you that he can be trusted?”

“Because I know.” Your eyes were pleading for him to understand. 

“How sure are you that he isn’t using you just to get information about us too?” 

“Because he also hates his father and besides, we haven’t talked about that in a while.” You felt your cheeks heat up as you remembered Warner for a moment. 

Kenji was suddenly all scrunched up in disgust as he shook his head. “Ew. That’s gross. Don’t ever say that again to me.” 

“Just please, trust me? We will figure this all out soon. He’s trying.” 

Kenji let out a sigh and nodded his head. “Just be careful out there. It’s dangerous and honestly, I don’t like the fact that you are running around late at night out there.”

“Please,” You said, holding back from rolling your eyes. “I can handle myself, Kenji.”

“I know you can but still.” 

You laughed softly. You were grateful for Kenji and besides the fact that you knew he wasn’t really agreeing with this whole thing, you were still glad that he always understood you and never doubted you. 

“Whatever you say, Princess.” Kenji said before walking out the door. 

Flopping yourself on the bed, you exhaled sharply and stared at the ceiling. You couldn’t help but wonder if Kenji was right. Warner was Anderson’s son and even if he gotten pretty good at sneaking out of the base, you were terrified that one day his father might find out. Then, what was going to happen? It would risk everything. 

Everyone. 

***********

Taglist:

@gracie-221 @his-littlefox @hannahmarie71 @ecliphttlunar @indythefandomhoarder @reminiscentreader @hrtsbecca @soulaires @shattermelyhfmlblog @wildesqdreams @pookiebearnancy @ant-thebooknerd @boliviajane

[rubyroboticalt]

Minecrafters grab your pickaxes, and catch up on the QBLR QUATERLY!

That's right, due to the holiday there's a double feature today! We've got pages of new stuff to go over, so let me learn you a thing about all the events and mishaps that happened on the server this week!

Party in the Toxic Cave! That's a very safe place to have no protective equipment whatsoever.

A safer place is the brand new Playground! Mozzarella opens up a playground for creatures and carers to play in, complete with a treehouse and a conveyer belt rollercoaster! The rollercoaster is 100% safe, and child-tested.

The Void Sanctum held its initiation ceremony, welcoming Brie, Gem, Soup, Bombom, Jinx, and Pip into its folds. Experience the Void.

Following that was a White Baby attack! The Baby has learned some new moves, while swarms of Nightmare Stalkers are still in its arsenal it uses a cloud of slideshow!

At least, slideshow for those of us with lower-end PCs who have particles turned on. The News, while produced on a PC older than Five Nights at Freddy's, has particles off. Get on my level, scrub.

Next up, a series of screenshots all captioned "the cutest baby on the server!", none of which feature the same creature twice. Yes, these creatures are all cute and very baby, but to make claims like that we'll have to have a proper creature pageant. Everyone go catch up on Toddlers and Tiaras!

New builds pop up around the server, with many players building new and adventurous structures. Slanted rooves, windmills and towers, oh my! Unlike most architectural ventures, the people here think about wheelchair users when making bathrooms! This one is big enough for any power chair to fit.

The void begins to encroach on peoples' homes, though not through the sanctum this time. Despite a Tiny render distance enforced, chunkloading with an average of 50 players is difficult.

A community barbecue was held! Plenty of food and drinks for everyone, and plenty of fun games. Of course, a party can only hold off the angst for so Hima and Snowball make some devoted sacrifices. After this, Snowball celebrates a birthday! A lighthearted end to a long day.

Another white baby attack. These are becoming routine on the server, something that is horrifying when you think about it. Violent attacks by a seemingly immortal creature are normalizing. Christ alive. Residents have different ways of destressing after these attacks. Hanging out on rooves is a popular one.

Deep sea exploration sees an explosion of interest! Submersibles and whales and dive suits abound. Fancy clothes and gourmet foods are made, including some questionable rich-folk eats. A picnic is held at the pergola. Attendees bond over food and a lovely sunny day.

And now, the autistic minecraft behaviors

A beautiful little bakery opens up! Sweet treats abound here. And, of course, more base work from the residents. Some bases are incredibly ambitious, and all are beautiful. All bases! Yup, all of them. All… bases. Guys please. This is just the backrooms now. The broadcast has to end here.

[emepe]

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: Three moments when Eren Jaeger won you over without realizing.

— Content warnings: minor injury.

— Notes: Welcome back! This chapter is in my top five of the series. I seriously enjoy writing such simple and cute moments for characters <3 Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

slow and sweet

Fate is a tricky thing. 

Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. People need people. People change people. 

A simple dinner party can lead to unexpected relations. Even if another simple mortal claims to call the shots, who’s to say it’s not the universe’s will behind it all?

Week One

It’s Saturday evening. The setting sun elongates your shadow cast on the pavement as you keep a steady pace toward the nearest bus stop. The canvas tote bag bears a considerable weight on your right shoulder, the contents bumping and pressing against your ribs with every other motion. 

There’s a block left to go before you arrive at the bus stop, made up by the local park. There are pathways loosely lined with trees. Scattered sounds of conversation and laughter fill the air, as well as the faint screech of a seesaw from the playground located at the center of it all. Your gaze is set forward, vision set on the bench you can spot across the street. However, a warm laugh pulls you from your goal. Your gaze darts around the area until you spot him.

At the center of the park, you recognize a figure from behind pushing a little girl on a swing. Before you can shake off your curiosity, your feet are already pulling you to him.

Eren flinches when he feels the tap on his shoulder, startling you in the process, as well. 

“God,” he huffs, then immediately recoils in embarrassment. He turns his head to the side to keep you from noticing the red tint on his cheeks.

“I didn’t know I was so scary,” you say, face neutral.

He quirks an eyebrow.

“Not scary, just wicked quiet. Remind me to get a bell for your neck.”

You hold a hand up in rejection.

“I’ve got one at home.”

He laughs. Your eyes shimmer in amusement. 

He’s wearing a black t-shirt and light-wash jeans. A small plastic bucket with toys in different colors and shapes hangs from his wrist.

You lean sideways to sneak a peek at the little girl who’s also curiously trying to get a look at you, but Eren’s so tall and broad she can’t manage to look around him before he steps aside. She can’t be older than three. Her blonde hair is put up into two pigtails, held by big pink hair bobbles, and her large brown eyes stare at you in wonder. 

“Hi.” 

Eren watches you wave at the little girl and smile. He can’t help but notice your voice is even softer when speaking to her. The flutter in his heart is evident, but he vowed earlier this week he would do his best to ignore this type of stuff when it happened.

“Josie, say hi.”

The little girl, Josie, offers you a small ‘hi’ in return before tugging on Eren’s jeans, signaling that she wants to be let down from the swing and go to the sandbox. He crouches down to her level.

“You want to play in the sandbox? Okay, little lady, let’s go.”

He looks up at you.

“You should stand back for this.”

Confused, though greatly entertained by the sight of Eren playing with a child, you follow his order.

He makes a loud swoosh sound, making a whole show of lifting Josie from the swing and spinning her around a couple of times, before zooming her to the sandbox a few steps away and setting her down on her feet while she strikes a landing pose. Josie happily giggles as she comfortably settles into the sand and Eren hands her the red plastic bucket of toys.

When he notices you’re staring at him, he nervously runs a hand through his hair.

“What?”

A light shake of your head is all you respond with, but he picks up on the way you’re holding back a smile. The two of you stand next to the sandbox, keeping a close eye on Josie.

“So you have a kid I didn’t know about?” you tease in your usual nonchalant manner.

“No!” he half-yells in a panic. 

Red swirls his cheeks as he holds his hands up in defense. He clears his throat, embarrassed by his own reflexes, and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“Are you sure? Because she looks an awful lot like you and you’re being very suspicious.”

The mortification on his face almost gets you to crack. Your eyes narrow in feigned suspicion.

He finally catches on and laughs.

“She’s my neighbor’s daughter,” he explains. “She's at work so I’m babysitting.”

You nod, your mouth taking on an ‘ah’ shape. 

“We’re just friends,” he adds, eyeing you furtively.

You hum in response.

“Congratulations.”

The heat blanketing Eren’s face is overwhelming.

It’s barely been a week since you turned him down. Of course, there’s no reason for you to be concerned about his relationship with other women. He didn’t plan on avoiding you — far from it — but there hasn’t been enough time for him to find a balance that allows him to get closer to you without breaking your boundaries and stirring his feelings.

Idiot, he thinks to himself.

“I should get going,” you say after a moment of silence, readjusting the straps on your shoulder.

Eren straightens his back, ready to offer to walk you to the stop to stretch out this chance encounter. 

Josie stands and toddles in your direction, her hand holding out a purple plastic mold. 

“Play,” she demands before going back to her bucket to retrieve a second mold for Eren.

“Oh,” you murmur, hesitating as you steal a glance at your watch. 

Eren holds his breath, not wanting to see you go so soon. He watches you quizzically stare down at the toy in your hands before crouching down to assist in Josie’s castle construction. 

Nice one, Josie, Eren thinks. He shoots an approving grin to his unknowing accomplice.

He crouches down next to you, stacking sand into his blue mold.

“So, what brings you around my side of town?” he asks as he packs sand into his tower-shaped mold.

“Oh, you know, I love a good playdate.” 

You shrug. He laughs through his nose. Your lips curve upwards at the sound. 

“The grocery store near my house is closed for renovations so I took the bus here,” you explain. “It’s not far, I’m in the next town over.”

He nods.

Lucky, he thinks, smiling to himself. 

Eren Jaeger is a bit of a romantic. Coincidences like this one have the power to feed any delusions further. He can’t help but see signs in mundane situations, and luck is clearly biased toward him if it’s placing you in his path. Even if you’re meant to be just friends, he’s grateful for the opportunity to be with you in an unexpected setting.

“You get to watch Josie a lot?” you ask, barely peeling your focus from slowly revealing the small castle from under your assigned mold. Your brows are furrowed in concentration.

Eren’s face lights up in amusement at your seriousness over the task. 

“Sometimes.” He shrugs. “Her usual babysitter cancels every now and then. I’m at home a lot, so it works out.”

You smile at him. His face warms, but he reciprocates.

“Plus, Josie and I are best buds. Right, Josie?” 

He shoots her an enthusiastic grin, one that she does not return. 

Josie quietly side-eyes him before returning to her more interesting task of decorating every little sand construction with a few stray leaves. 

You stifle a laugh. 

“She's just shy,” he explains.

“Of course.”

The three of you continue working in comfortable silence. 

By the time the orange hues of the sky start to make way for the cool blues of night, Eren is helping Josie place a final decorative leaf as a flag on one of the towers.

“What do you think, Josie?” you ask, tilting your head and smiling warmly at the little girl.

Josie beams up at you, her eyes twinkling with delight.

“Pretty!”

Your smile grows and you offer her a high-five for a job well done.

“I think so, too.” You turn to Eren. “What do you think, Eren?”

He hesitates, his eyes wandering the details of your face. He's found you attractive from the start. But now, your eyes sparkle with glee. Your smile is brighter and overall, there's a lightness surrounding you that he hadn't seen until now. It's different from the night at Armin's after a few drinks. It's different from when you smile after teasing him. You look carefree and young. You're practically glowing.

“The prettiest.” 

If you notice the blush on his cheeks, you don't say anything. But he doubts you did since all you do is offer him the same high-five you did to Josie before standing and brushing your knees off.

Just as you're about to bid goodbye, a voice cuts you off from a few feet away.

“Eren!” 

You look around him to find a petite blonde in scrubs making her way to where you both stand.

“Mama!” Josie squeals and meets her halfway, grabbing onto her mother's leg when she does.

“I got your text earlier. I didn't think you'd still be here,” Josie’s mom says once she's close enough.

“Yeah, we kind of lost track of time,” Eren sheepishly explains.

Her gaze wanders over to you, causing Eren to step back and allow you a better view. She's got the same blonde hair and round eyes as Josie, except hers are blue. She seems younger, though you figure that's due to her small figure.

Eren introduces you.

“She's my friend,” he adds softly.

“Hi,” she merrily greets you, offering her hand to shake. “I'm Christa. I'm Eren's neighbor.” 

You politely nod and respond with a low ‘nice to meet you’.

Eren watches you closely. The glow you previously radiated has vanished. You've stepped back into your quiet self — the way you were when he bumped into you at Kuchel that very first day. 

Before he can say anything, Christa's voice breaks through his thoughts.

“Thanks for looking after Josie again. I hope she didn't give you much trouble.”

Eren waves her off. 

“Not at all. We're best buds, aren't we?” He looks down at Josie expectantly, holding up his right hand.

“Yeah!” The little girl cheers and stretches on her toes to meet his high-five. 

While Christa looks down affectionately at her daughter, Eren tosses you a playfully arrogant look.

“Told ya.”

The corners of your lips tug into a smile.

“We should get going, I gotta give this one a good bath,” Christa says, squeezing her daughter's hand.

Eren scrambles to collect Josie’s toys into the red plastic bucket and hands them to her.

“Thanks again, Eren. You're always saving me. I'll make you dinner sometime, promise,” she says.

Eren dismisses her with a wave of his hand.

“Nah. I'm happy to do it.”

Christa and Josie bid their goodbyes and walk away, leaving you and Eren alone.

Before you can tell him to head home with them — that you're leaving, too — he smiles at you.

“I'll walk you to the stop,” he offers, pointing a finger in its direction.

“You don't have to.”

He shakes his head.

“I want to. Besides, it's getting dark.” 

He kills your chance to protest by smoothly taking the bag from your shoulder and walking ahead, leaving you no choice but to follow.

“You could at least let me carry my own bag,” you mutter beside him, yet make no move to take it back.

“It's fine,” he assures you.

It's a short walk to the bus stop. You're surprised when he doesn't leave after reaching the bench and instead plops down to wait with you. It's like he can't bear to leave you alone and you can't help but feel a bit guilty that you're troubling him. The weather is getting cooler by the day and he's not even wearing a jacket. 

“You can head home, it's getting cold. I can wait alone.” 

He shakes his head again.

“What kind of friend would I be if I didn't see you off? I'm fine, really.”

You stare at him quizzically but say nothing.

The minutes tick away to the beat of passing cars and snippets of strangers’ conversations as they walk by.

“What's your favorite season?” Eren asks. 

You look up at Eren, confused.

“Huh?” 

“I like fall because of all the colors. And it's really cozy, you know? But I hate the weather getting cold. So summer is better, in that sense.”

You nod along and hum in thought. 

“I like summer, too.”

“Yeah?” he smiles at you.

“I don't do well with cold weather, either,” you admit. “I hate it.”

“Hm. Interesting, very interesting.” He rubs at his chin, brow furrowed, and head tilted in thought. “What about cold things? Ice cream, shaved ice, iced coffee, beer?”

You perk up in amusement. Your legs swing back and forth as you contemplate his question. He watches you with a smile.

“Yes, to the ice cream and shaved ice. No, to the iced coffee and beer.”

“So no cracking a cold one if it's a billion degrees outside?” 

You shrug.

“I don't like bitter things.”

Eren's heart skips a beat. 

“What about you?” 

“Same answer.” 

You nod, oblivious to the effect this small similarity bears on the man beside you.

A bus approaches, the orange lights from the LED screen marking the route for your way home.

“That's me,” you say, standing. 

Eren mirrors your actions and hands you your bag. Your fingers brush together in the process, causing his cheeks to warm. 

“Thanks for keeping me company.” 

You smile at him. 

Eren nods, his lips curling inwards as he rocks his weight on his feet.

“See you around.”

“Bye, Eren.”

Week 3

The contents of your trusty tote jostle around as you lightly jog up the steps of the familiar apartment building.

You're buzzed in within seconds without any need to announce your arrival through the intercom. 

Armin has called in sick two days in a row. The cooling temperatures caught up to him through a cold. Although his text read it wasn't anything serious, you worried he'd feel a bit lonely and offered to bring some medicine as an excuse. You're mildly afraid of intruding, but he's your closest friend and you can't help but be overruled by your worry.

The door to Armin's apartment is cracked open from what you can see as you round the corner. What you don't expect is the person leaning against the wall waiting for you not to be Armin himself.

He looks up from his phone when he hears your steps coming closer. 

“Hey.” A boyish smile takes over his lips, green eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

“Eren.”

He takes the bag from your shoulder and steps aside so you can walk in. You shrug your coat off, hanging it on the rack by the door. 

“What are you doing here?” 

He shrugs.

“Same as you.”

It's only now that you spare a moment to take in his appearance. 

“Nice apron,” you point out.

He blushes, crossing his arms to cover the ‘This guy rubs his own meat’ plastered in big bold letters across the chest.

“It's Armin’s,” he groans.

An airy laugh pushes past your lips. Your hand comes up to cover your mouth. It only makes Eren blush harder.

“Come on, he’s in the kitchen.”

The deeper you walk into the apartment, the stronger the smell of a hearty soup permeates the air. 

As you step into the kitchen, you find Armin sitting at the bar with a blanket draped over his head and cascading down his back like a cape. When he turns to look at you, you register his glassy eyes and the reddened tip of his nose. He sniffles but smiles.

“Oh, Armin.” You walk up to him and pat his back. “How are you feeling?”

“Super great, I feel like I'm dying.” 

Your lips curve in amusement.

“Don't worry, buddy. You always pull through.” Eren shoots him a sympathetic smile as he pulls out a cutting board and knife to dice some carrots. 

“I brought you some medicine…” you say as you travel over to where Eren placed your bag on the counter. “A sports drink, a box of tissues, and some oranges.” You list everything off as you take every item from your bag and place it on the counter.

Eren puts his carrots on hold to grab the bag of oranges to wash. 

Armin smiles at you gratefully. 

“Thank you. I really appreciate all this.”

Eren clears his throat loudly, handing him a freshly washed orange before placing the rest into a bowl.

“Thank you, too, Eren.” Armin accepts the orange, digging a nail in to start peeling it. “You guys are so nice, I'm lucky to ha–” 

His statement is cut short by a shiver-inducing sneeze. 

Eren watches him with his eyebrows upturned in concern.

“Go lie down, buddy. I'll bring you your soup when it's ready.” 

“I'm fine,” Armin sniffles, reaching for the box of tissues you brought him.

“No offense, but I can't cook if you're gonna be sneezing all over the place.” Eren flails his hand around. “Go. Now.” 

Begrudgingly, Armin trudges to his room, taking the box of tissues and his half-peeled orange with him.

Eren goes back to his carrots as soon as he hears Armin's bedroom door close.

“Can I help you with anything?” you ask, watching his agile hands steadily cut the last of the carrots and sliding them off the board and into the boiling pot.

A shrill whistle pierces through the room. Eren turns off one of the burners warming a tea kettle.

“Yeah, actually, can you get a mug for me? They're over there.” He points to one of the cupboards before turning back to grab a box of tea bags from a different one.

You retrieve a mug and help him pour the hot water into it, watching as a light brown color swirls from the tea bag and a chamomile scent infiltrates your nostrils.

“Honey,” you murmur watching Eren carefully transport a spoonful of it from the jar to the mug.

“Yeah,” he murmurs back, smiling. 

His gaze flits to your face, watching you observe his hands stir the spoon inside the mug. There's a hint of fascination in your eyes as you watch the golden puddle from the spoon dissolve.

“I'm gonna take this to his room.” 

You watch him leave.

When he gets back just seconds later, you're next to the stove, stirring the wooden spoon around the soup pot. 

“It'll still be a few minutes,” he says. “Sit down.”

He gestures to one of the chairs at the bar. You sit.

“Want an orange?” He nods toward the bowl holding the oranges you brought.

You hesitate. He smiles.

“Armin won't mind.”

You take one. So does he. 

“How've you been?” he asks, swiftly peeling half of his orange in one go.

“I've been okay. Lunch is a bit boring without Armin, though.” You struggle to find a good spot to start peeling your orange. You dig your nail in and start to pull, only for the peel to thin out and cut off unsatisfactorily. 

He hums in thought as he chews on the first piece of his orange.

“Have you been going to the coffee shop?”

You nod and try at your peel again. The same result.

“It's not the same. I'm kind of used to having company now.”

Eren’s fingers brush over your own as he takes the orange from your hands and peels it in smooth motions. He places the peeled orange back in your hands and continues eating his without missing a beat.

“You should call me next time. I'll keep you company.”

There's a strange flutter in your stomach as your gaze shifts from the peeled orange to the man in front of you, who keeps his gaze low as he finishes his snack.

“I thought you were like a kid, but you're really dependable,” you murmur.

He scrunches his eyebrows together, not fully understanding what you mean.

“Like a kid?” He smirks.

You shake your head, feeling silly all of a sudden. 

“Armin asked me what I thought about you. I told him you were like a kid. But you're very different now.” You speak cautiously, afraid you might say the wrong thing without meaning to. 

His eyes wander over the countertop as he mulls over your words.

“Is it the good kind?”

Your bottom lip is caught snugly between your teeth. Warmth pools in your stomach when you catch his fleeting attention to the movement. 

“I think so.” Your voice barely wraps around the words. 

A pink tint spreads across Eren's cheeks. He looks away, overcome by shyness. 

“The soup's probably ready.” He stands, trying his best to hide his face from your view. 

You're too preoccupied with the flutter in your stomach. With the uneaten orange in your hands, you abruptly stand. The chair scrapes against the floor, grabbing Eren’s attention.

“I should go. I have a ton of stuff to do at home.”

He sets down the bowl of soup in his hands.

“Are you sure? You should eat before you go. I can make us something else, just give me a minute.” 

He starts looking around the kitchen for ingredients. You stop him.

“It's fine, really.” 

Embarrassment aside, Eren isn't ready to see you go — not that he ever is. His gaze travels from your face, down to your hands. 

“You haven't eaten your orange,” he notes.

You look down to where he’s focusing and your eyebrows rise in surprise, like you hadn't noticed. 

“I'll just eat this on my way home. Tell Armin bye for me.”

Eren can barely hide his disappointment. 

“I'll see you around, then. Be careful.”

“Bye, Eren.”

On the way home, your mind is littered with flashes of Eren's hands peeling your orange. 

It's strange the things that can change the light one views other people in. True to your word, Eren is a clumsy kid trapped in an adult body. But today was different. He was strong and capable, which definitely triggered something inside of you.

Week 5

“Is there a limit to how much we can take home?” Connie asks.

Jean stares him down with a hand on his hip.

He's gone all out for the trip. He's decked out in denim jeans and a jacket, a plaid flannel shirt, and a wide-brim straw hat to top it all off.

“Just how many apples are you planning to bring home to ask that?”

It's the first time you're getting together with everyone since the night you met at Armin's apartment.

If one were to scroll through the messages exchanged in the group chat, they'd find several discarded plans — sometimes someone didn't have time to meet, the weather was wrong, or the mood wasn't right — that ultimately ended in Armin's suggestion to go apple-picking together. 

The stars aligned in everyone's favor. It's the perfect weekend, the perfect weather, and everyone is up for it. 

You're all gathered in the parking lot of Armin's apartment complex, helping him carry some basic supplies for the road to Jean's and Eren's cars — water, snacks, a first-aid kit, and other miscellaneous things. All seven of you could fit perfectly in Jean's SUV, but you figured it best to split into two groups considering you'll be coming back with a hefty supply of apples.

“You pay for a bag and you take home whatever fits,” Eren explains as he sets a pack of bottled water into the trunk of his car. 

“Take off that stupid hat, Jean.”

Eren proceeds to smack Jean on the back of his head, flinging his hat away in the process.

“Hey, mock me all you want but this is fashion.” Jean dusts off his hat and fixes it on his head again, pulling at the drawstring to keep it more secure this time. “You just don't get it.”

“It's stupid,” Eren reiterates. 

You place a neatly folded picnic blanket on top of the pack of water. You can hear both men get into a tussle behind you as you shut the trunk door.

“I think you look nice, Jean.” 

Your words put a halt to their roughhousing.

Jean shoots Eren a cocky look, to which he just rolls his eyes. 

“You’re not serious,” Eren huffs. 

“I am.” You turn to Jean. “You look very spiffy.”

A secretive spark lights up your eyes when you look back at Eren as Jean proudly looks down at his outfit. 

Eren’s lips curl inwards as he suppresses a grin and nods in understanding.

“I apologize, Jean. You've got a good look going here.” He pats him roughly on the back before rounding the car to settle in the driver's seat. 

Armin claps his hands to get everyone's attention. 

“Alright everybody, let's go!”

Everyone starts climbing into separate cars. Jean, Connie, and Sasha in one; the rest in the other. 

“You should ride in the front with Eren.” Armin comes up behind you and gestures toward the copilot door.

You nod and climb in.

The ride is peaceful. The fresh air combs through your hair as the music flows in and out, keeping any silence at bay. 

Armin excitedly talks about how perfect the time is to go apple-picking and that he's been looking forward to it for the past week. 

“It's been years. Last time we went apple-picking we were like, what, eight? We had to pick from dwarf trees.”

Mikasa hums in confirmation. 

“Have you ever been apple-picking before?” she asks you in between popping chips into her mouth.

“Never,” you tell her. “I've always wanted to go, though. It looks fun.”

You nurse the tin of salted peanuts in your hands. You've been looking forward to this small trip since Armin suggested it. In your life, there haven't been many chances to do fun things like this. Money was tight and, even if it wasn't, your family life didn't leave much room to ask for things that seemed like a waste of time.

You pop a cashew into your mouth and chew on it slowly as the car stops at a red light. There's a burning sensation on the left side of your face. When you look up, you're met with Eren's gaze. 

You okay? he mouths.

Nervously, you glance at the backseat. Armin and Mikasa are distracted by their own secret conversation.

Looking back at Eren, you nod. A warm glow blooms in your chest when his lips curve into a small smile. Before you can reciprocate, the moment is cut short by a green light. 

You're not sure when things came to be so comfortable around Eren. Minus the unexpected fluster you faced the day you went to visit Armin, things seem to flow easier now. It's nice, albeit that funny feeling inside you can't seem to dissipate.

Eating peanuts keeps you distracted. It's only when you're halfway through the small tin, you realize Eren is the only one who hasn't been snacking during the drive. As copilot, you should have been sooner aware of your responsibility to keep him fed as his hands were on the wheel. 

Dubiously, you look down at the remaining peanuts and pick one, glancing at Eren for an opening. He's laser-focused on the road, eyes darting briefly to either side when a lane switch is to be made, or to check his course on the map on his phone. His large hands are steady and swift on the wheel — he makes driving look so easy. 

“Eren,” you call him softly. 

It’s so low, it could've been easy to miss with the sound of the wind and the music combined. But his ears are finely tuned to pick out your voice, especially if it holds his name. 

“Hm?” His eyebrows rise in question as his gaze flashes once to your face, to the road, and once to the peanut in your hand. 

Realization blankets his face in rosy tones, and he leans over, peeling his eyes off the road for just a second long enough to accept your offering. His lips brush along the tips of your fingers, causing both of you to pull back. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs shyly.

You nod even though he can't see, though he catches a flicker of the movement from his peripheral vision.

Neither of you is aware of the elbow nudges exchanged in the back seat as two pairs of amused eyes take in the scene.

The rest of the drive goes by in silence. You offer to feed Eren some more but he meekly declines. 

Sunrise Orchards comes into view sooner than you expected. The grounds are enclosed by a tall ornate gate, the steel curving into the shapes of different fruits — apples included — leaves, and birds.

The car comes to a stop in an open spot of the dirt parking space. You all step out of the car and wait. Jean's car zooms into the next space seconds later, and you all head together to the entrance to purchase your bags. 

From where you stand, the path is lined with a few small buildings — a store, restrooms, sheds, and a cafeteria. Moving forward, rows of fruit trees stretch as far as the eye can see. Colorful ladders are scattered amongst the trees. Birds are chirping and there's a faint trace of laughter coming from somewhere you can't pinpoint. There's a bit of wind, but it's bearable. The sun peeks through the clouds every now and then to cast warmth on your skin. 

You adjust the cap on your head, pulling on the strap so it fits comfortably. Eren's wearing one, too — black, to match his t-shirt. It suits him.

After you each have your bag — Connie and Sasha each bought a bushel bag —, the apple-picking begins. Your group is guided to a section full of apple trees by a man well into his sixties. A few branches hang low due to the weight of the fruit. A couple have plopped down to the ground, bruised by the fall, but still good enough to grab if you're not picky.

The guide explains the best varieties this season. There's Cortland and Red, Gala and Granny Smith. He gives a brief demonstration on how to pick the apples without too much hassle — to lift and twist them instead of pulling them down. 

“Aside from color, you can tell an apple is ripe if it's firm to the touch. Feel free to use the ladders, and I'll leave some scissors and gloves here for ya if you don't want to get your hands too dirty.” The old man hands a box with supplies to Armin. 

“And make sure you get a slice of pie from the cafeteria before you head out. My wife makes it herself.” The old man beams before turning on his heel and leaving you to explore the area.

A collective “thank you” rises from the group and you begin to wander in different directions, looking to find the tree with the shiniest, most vibrant fruit. Mikasa and Jean debate on what apple is best for homemade cider. You wander away from the group, not paying much attention to what seems more appetizing or coming up with things to cook up later. Even just walking amongst the trees is time well spent. The sun sifts through the scarce bare spots among the branches. The sweetness in the air soothes you, enveloping you in pure bliss.

You pass a picket sign with directions written in different colors, pointing to the sections where every apple variety is found.

You don't notice Eren trailing behind you. Not on purpose, it just turned out this way. So when you feel a tap on your shoulder, you whirl around with wide eyes and a hand to your heart. 

“I didn't know I was so scary,” he teases.

You deadpan him, but your lips eventually succumb to a smile.

“Headed for the Cortland apples?” he asks, swinging his bag back and forth as you walk alongside each other.

You shrug. 

“I don't really know what to pick yet,” you admit. “I'm just looking around.” 

“Well, what's your favorite apple?” 

“I don't know. I haven't tried them all, so I can't say for sure.”

“Well, which one is your favorite now?” he insists.

A few seconds go by as you think it over.

“Pink lady.”

He smiles at you.

“Yeah? Why?”

“The name's fancy.” You shrug. He laughs. You join him. “And they're pretty.”

He hums in response, a satisfied smile still lingering on his face.

“We probably should've gone to an orchard with pink ladies, then.” 

You smile. 

“It's fine. This place is nice.”

You reach the Cortland section. When you look back, the rest of the group is still in view, but far enough for Sasha’s excited exclamations to sound like whispers. 

Eren fixes a ladder against a tree, shaking it a bit to test its sturdiness. You hurry over to hold the ladder in place. He smiles at you gratefully before climbing up a couple of steps to reach for the apples he eyed from below.

“Do you like cider?” he asks as he twists an apple off a branch. 

“Yeah, why?” You squint up at him, a sudden surge of sunlight coming in through the leaves and blanketing his features. 

He adds three more apples to his bag and climbs down.

“Just wondering,” he grins, eyes sparkling, though you think that might be an effect of the sunlight. You rub your eyes to clear your vision.

Your stroll continues. 

“What do you plan on making with your apples?” he asks, turning around so he's walking backward as he waits for your answer.

“You're gonna trip and fall,” you point out. 

“I'll just say you pushed me.” He shrugs.

Your eyes narrow. He laughs. 

You shake your head and turn your attention to the trees, searching for any good picks. After all, that's why you're here. 

“I don't know,” you murmur. “I might bake a pie… or eat them with caramel.”

You stop in front of a tree. It's a couple of feet taller than the rest, but the juicy reds stand out among the leaves. 

You look around in search of a ladder and spot one in the next tree over. Eren helps you adjust it against the trunk. 

“I might bake a cake,” you continue. “Or toss them in cream and walnuts.” Eren hums along, encouraging you to keep listing your options. Your face suddenly lights up. “Oh! I found a recipe the other day for apple cinnamon crepes.” 

He mirrors the grin on your face as he holds down the wooden ladder and you climb up. The steps feel like they bend under your weight. 

“Yeah, I definitely have to make those.” The excitement is evident in your voice. Confidence marks every twist and toss of the apples you pick, upon your newfound objective. 

“Hm… so you’re big on cooking?” Eren voices beneath you. He wants to make something of his apples, too, but he knows he'll end up having most of them as they are, whole or cut up in slices — just to mix things up.

You smile down at him.

“Yeah, I am.”

Eren recites your answers under his breath. The last apple lands in your bag and you finally start to make your way down. You climbed up a couple more steps in the process of your apple-picking, so you've got somewhat of a long way down to go.

“Be careful,” Eren says, to which you nod. “Here, give me your bag.” He holds out a hand once you're low enough, so you can focus on getting down safely. The straps slide along his arm, resting at last in the crook of his elbow as he attentively supervises your descent.

Every now and then, your depth perception fails you. It'll convince you you're about to miss a step on the stairs or make one up out of thin air. You'll be tricked into believing you're about to step on a flat surface instead of one that rises, and vice-versa. But you can't blame your depth perception for what happens, for it's the second to last step that snaps and causes you to lose balance, and stumble down, twisting your ankle in the process.

Eren’s arm wraps around your waist, but his reflexes aren't quick enough to save you from all harm. The sting around your ankle is there, along with a small trickle of blood, likely the work of the splintered step.

A painful whine escapes your lips as you curl into Eren’s chest.

“It's okay, I got you, it's okay,” Eren comforts you, pressing you further into his chest. He doesn't realize you're hurt until you step back with a wince and look down at your feet.

He's crouched on the ground, back to you, in a split second.

“Come on. Armin brought a first-aid kit, it's in the car.” 

You hesitate, not wanting to trouble him. But when you try to take another step to prove you can walk, the pain shoots up your leg once more. 

Eren’s arms wrap firmly around your legs, while yours cling tightly to his shoulders. 

“I'm okay,” you insist. “I don't think I broke anything, I just twisted it.”

When Eren doesn't reply immediately, a dreadful sense of guilt settles at the pit of your stomach. A good time has been ruined and it's all your fault.

Like always.

“Still,” Eren murmurs. “I'm worried. You scared me back there.” There's a trace of anxiety lingering in his voice from when he caught your fall.

The flutter in your stomach makes its reappearance. Your gaze meets with his side profile, at least the most you can see from your angle. His face is serious, brows pulled together in either worry or determination, you're not sure. 

“I can hop on one foot the rest of the way if I'm too heavy.” 

He laughs through his nose. The corners of your lips tug into a smile, cheeks warm, and eyes fixed on the shift in his features.

“I don't mind carrying you.”

The warmth from his skin trespasses every layer of clothing. The scent he emanates is a mix of vanilla and sweat from his physical efforts this morning — it's comforting.

As you near the group, you find yourself sinking into him, your head leaning into his shoulder, cheek pressed against his ear, and arms squeezing around him just a little tighter.

“What happened?”

Armin is the first to notice your return, and he rushes to your side to inspect for any other injuries.

“Eren pushed me,” you say in as serious a tone as you can muster, shaking your head in feigned disappointment. 

Gasps erupt from everyone, to which Eren immediately protests.

“Wha– I didn't push her!” His eyebrows upturn in hurt from everyone's sudden betrayal. “Do you really believe I would do that?”

Nonsensical mumbles arise, paired with shrugs and a single ‘she's pretty credible’. 

Eren rolls his eyes.

“We should get you to a doctor,” Armin states. Everyone starts gathering their things on the spot.

“No, no. I'm fine, really. I'm pretty sure I just twisted it.”

“We're going to the car. You guys stay here. We'll let you know if we need to leave.” Eren's voice is strong and commanding. It's different from his usual self. 

He carries you the rest of the way to the parking lot, a chorus of encouraging words fading behind you the further you get. You're stopped near the entrance by the old man who served as your guide earlier, and Eren calmly explains what happened. You apologize for the broken ladder, to which the old man apologizes in an even more profuse manner for being at fault for your injury.

When you finally make it to the car, Eren opens the trunk door and sets you down carefully, before rummaging for the first-aid kit. He pulls out a small bottle of alcohol and a cotton pad to clean the cut on your leg.

You hiss at the contact. 

“Sorry.” 

The crease in Eren's forehead deepens as he focuses on leaving your skin clean. In stark contrast to the stinging sensation produced by the alcohol, his touch is gentle. He eyes you every few seconds, making sure you're okay. 

The butterflies in his stomach stir wildly when your eyes happen to meet with his, but it’s been getting easier to ignore the effect you have on them than before. He’s proud to say he’s come a long way and can keep himself in check. That’s not to say you hold any less power than the day you met. 

“I’m gonna check your ankle, okay?” he warns calmly, only acting on his word once you nod in approval.

He rotates your foot carefully, gauging your reaction to the movement. 

With great care, he begins pressing the pads of his fingers into your ankle, massaging the area while looking for any signs of swelling or protuberances that shouldn’t be there.

“I feel bad,” you murmur.

“Does it hurt?” Eren pulls back his hand.

You shake your head.

“No. I mean, yes, a little. But I wasn’t talking about that.” You sigh. “I just feel bad for causing trouble.” 

Eren can feel his heart sinking when you look up at him with sadness clouding your gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “We were having a nice time and I ruined it.”

It takes a second for him to recover. Now that it’s just the two of you, the disappointment you held back just moments ago in front of everyone else surfaces on your face. 

He clears his throat and continues massaging your ankle. 

“Nothing to be sorry about. It could’ve happened to anybody.”

You chew on your bottom lip. You’re sure it’s true, but it doesn’t ease the guilt that it had to happen to you.

“Jean is allergic to bees. He could’ve easily been stung by one and we’d have to go,” Eren laughs.

His attempt at comforting you fails. You nod out of courtesy, but keep your head low.

The two of you are quiet for a moment. Eren wants to make you feel better. On the way to Sunrise Orchards, you said you’ve never been apple-picking. That’s got to play a major part in your defeated demeanor.

“We can come back next year,” he suggests. “And there's a ton of other fun stuff we can do together. You can pick next time. What would you like?” 

He sits straighter when you start humming in thought.

“Hm… I don’t know. There’s a lot I want to do but it’s pretty basic stuff. It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Tell me. What's something you've always wanted to do?”

A nervous shiver runs along your spine as you tightly clasp your hands together. Eren waits patiently, tilting his head and boyishly smiling at you as you build the courage to speak.

“I want to spend a day at the beach.”

“Beach day,” Eren echoes slowly. “You like to swim?”

You look away, embarrassed. 

“I don’t know how.”

“No worries, I can teach you.” His gaze travels to the sky, lips pressed tight as he comes up with what to ask you next. “What else? What’s your favorite thing to do in… the winter?”

You freeze. Images of your younger self locked out in the snow, crying, flash behind your eyes.

I’m sick of you here!  

“Um… I don’t really have anything in mind.”

“That’s okay,” he grins. “We can find something. Do you like hot chocolate?”

You nod.

“With peppermint or marshmallows?”

“Both.”

“Popcorn?”

You nod again.

“Movies?”

You nod a third time.

“Ugly sweaters? Tacky pajamas?”

“I don’t think so,” you laugh.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, too. “Do you like fireworks?”

With narrowed eyes, you reply “Maybe”.

“I’ll take that as a yes. We’ll get together one night and wreak havoc.”

You giggle.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the only sounds coming from far away on the other side of the steel gate. The pain in your ankle has long subsided, yet your leg remains resting on Eren’s lap, as his thumb gently brushes along your skin.

“Why do you ask me so many questions?” 

“What do you mean?” His face contorts in an attempt to look confused, but it’s clear he’s aware of his actions.

“I just feel like you’ve asked me a ton of questions today. The other night, too. It was a bit random.”

There’s a pause. The strokes on your ankle come to a stop as his hand simply rests there. You wait with bated breath and a thumping heart for him to respond.

“Because I want to know you.” 

It’s like you’ve been plagued with a serious case of butterflies. They can’t seem to stop stirring.

“I like hearing you talk, even if it's about random things. Don't get me wrong, I'm curious about the more serious stuff, too… if you ever want to talk to me.” 

Shame washes over you, leaving your head hung low so he can’t see the way your lips tremble at the thought of burdening him with said serious stuff. 

Eren’s all too worried about regaining control of his body temperature to notice. He slides his cap off and runs a shaky hand through his hair.

“I’m curious about everything.” His voice blooms warmth in your heart. “It's just… nice to learn about you.”

“Were you this nosy with all your other friends?” You’re trying to ease the situation, trying to poke fun in some way, but your voice comes out with cracks. 

He locks eyes with you.

“No.”

Eren is a nice guy — in the purest sense of the word. For someone so self-aware, it's only now that everything starts catching up to you. 

The warmth in your stomach, the ease of conversation laced with a sneaky hint of tension in more recent times, the admiration you feel when watching him behave so caring and dependable — it all washes over you like ice water, eliciting goosebumps on your skin and a shiver down your back.

It finally hits you.

“Oh,” you say.

“Yeah,” he whispers.

More silence paired with shy aversions of each other’s gaze. Then, Eren clears his throat and straightens his posture a little. 

“They're huge narcissists, so it doesn't take much to get them talking about themselves.” 

His eyes roll, and his nose scrunches in feigned disgust.

The tension fades as you lose yourself in laughter. His eyes crinkle, and his classic boyish grin stretches across his face as he watches your eyes light up. 

“Try to stand,” he says, setting your foot down from his lap and hoisting you up by the waist.

You try shifting your weight between your feet and moving your foot around to test for any lingering pain.

“Feel better?” 

You smile up at him.

“Yeah.”

“Sorry for worrying you guys.”

After going on a short test walk around the parking lot, you were interrupted by Mikasa coming over to check on you. Seeing you walk just fine, she ushered you and Eren back inside to have lunch with the rest of the group. You all shared a simple meal back at the spot where you lost your footing. The old man and his wife felt so bad that you got hurt that they gifted you a pie from their shop which, of course, you shared with everyone.

“Don’t even mention it. Thanks to you, we got free dessert.” Mikasa happily pats her stomach to show her appreciation.

The ride home feels much shorter than when you were first headed for the orchard. Upon Armin’s insistence, Eren drops him and Mikasa off first. As he put it, if one did the math, Eren could save some handsome road time by making you his last stop.

With each person that gets out of the car, the ride grows more and more silent. 

Eren knows he must focus on the road, but he can’t keep his mind from wandering. He gave himself away too soon by asking you out on your second time seeing each other — technically third — but he’s tried his best to keep it lowkey. You already know he likes you, and he knows you don’t see him that way, which is why he eased the tension with a joke back at the parking lot. He has to admit that talking to you has gotten easier, though. Instead of getting worked up over nothing and tripping over his words, he can ease up now. For a moment he hoped you were just a pretty face he needed to get used to, but no chance — you’re still as alluring as ever, and he’s still mesmerized just the same by every little thing you do, even more so. But he can’t hope you’ll feel the same way.

“Take the next right.”

Your voice has the power to anchor him at any given moment. 

You’ve changed, too, he’s noticed. You’re smiling more, laughing more. You’ve grown comfortable around him, too. Or perhaps he’s just gotten better at evoking those things from you. Whatever the case, it swells him with pride.

“Right there.”

You point to an apartment building at the center of the block. It’s a tall brick building with vines twisting and turning, wrapping around window sills and down the walls.

He parks the car right in front and gets down to help you gather your things from the trunk — your bag of apples and a piece of leftover pie. Your fingers brush over his as you take hold of your stuff, leaving a tingling sensation on his hands.

“I know you got hurt, but did you have a nice time?” he asks, shielding his hands from the cold by stuffing them in his pockets. 

You rock your weight on the balls of your feet, humming contemplatively. 

“I did,” you finally say. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

“Anytime,” he replies — and he means it. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Smiling, you nod.

“Bye, Eren.”

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[soleilnomoon]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･titled — “lady(bug) killer.”

9k words (shh i know i know), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni; angst city, there’s fluff somewhere somehow i think, smut obviously; shanks is a bully and an ass but that’s why we love him, reader has no self-preservation (when has she ever lbr); feat. cute stuff like making out, alcohol, some smoking, oral (f receiving), biting, reader being shameless; shanks is mean when he’s jealous and reader is equally as ridiculous, also benn beckman, yasopp, and lucky roux make a tiny cameo. anyway this was 1000% self-indulgent, but idc.

this is for @strawhatsoraya, and even though it’s *calculates* 7? months late ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ lmaooo i finished bb, a labor of love for u because i’m absurd and u enable me. don’t blame me for nothin, i did what i could!!! (if u see typos/grammatical errors no u didn’t.)

DELUSION X IS X INEVITABLE

the seas are not, and never have been, kind — nor are they patient. weakness is rarely tolerated, so to combat that, to give yourself some semblance of strength, you tell yourself stories in the hopes of extracting a bit of courage. there’s one in particular that you like to tell yourself when things get to be a little too much.

it’s about the impossible love between the sun and the moon — the two seemingly trapped in an endless cycle of cat and mouse, chasing one another across the skies for eternity.

golden-hued, dazzling, brilliant; a deity above all others with a kingdom as expansive as its reach — grand and all encompassing. the sun is a powerful, overwhelming force of nature, able to disrupt the earth as he sees fit, his heat infiltrating any crevice it can find with each new day. the stars serve as reluctant guides, leaving behind crumbs for the sun to follow. they’re much too quick, twinkle out of sight, and the moon is nowhere to be seen. she’s a shadow, a mirage, an entity that’s completely out of the sun’s reach no matter what he does.

the moon, in contrast, is serene when in rest, shimmering proudly in the dark sky — illuminating the seas for wayward sailors, dreams, and the like. calm, the epitome of grace, yet unyielding; forever dictating the tides as she sees fit. there’s a sharpness to her beauty; it’s cold and unapproachable — a single rare flower that blooms nightly in the sky, her spores a sweet poison that serves to ensnare unsuspecting stargazers, adding yet another devoted follower to her massive collection. a hopeless romantic deep down, admiring the blazing trail that the sun leaves behind. fear forces the moon to hesitate, never to embrace the sun’s brilliance and warmth.

despite being the biggest star hanging in the sky, the sun remains out of the moon’s reach; and despite priding herself on her uncanny ability to pluck the truth from anyone, she conveniently evades revealing her own dark truths.

the ocean is a reluctant playground, her mirror of truth; if the moon looks hard enough, she can see the golden light from the sun touching the water. if she hangs back, then maybe she might be able to grab onto some of that warmth. she’s always so cold. it’s evident in how she approaches life. her rage is frigid, hidden, forbidden from ever coming out; a stated beauty from afar, breathtaking and life changing up close.

everyone is too afraid to approach her; no one wants to risk her wrath — except the sun.

where the sun chases away his own shadows, the moon welcomes them. there’s poetry in the dance they do; a ballet in several parts — steps light and well-rehearsed, as the stars play a sweet, melancholic melody. it’s indescribable; a work of art fit to inspire the masses.

ascending along the expansive sky, the sun begins his rhythmic march, reveling in the sparkling remnants of light that moon has left behind. it’s always been said that the sun lusts after the moon, but it’s not quite as simple as that. the moon leads the dance — measured, practiced, perfect; while the sun clumsily follows along, sure-footed, and honest. a never-ending cycle of what ifs and maybes; a love affair that is in a deadly, hypnotic loop.

yours is a story about love, about life, and about losing bits of yourself in someone else.

shanks has always been fond of the sun, of its power, its size, and its impact on life; he’s always reached his arms out every morning, soaking up as much of the warmth and heat as he can, forever rejuvenated by its light. you have always favored the moon — its eerie silence, the way life seems to hold its breath for it, how you can gaze at it without consequence.

both of you are fueled by the whims of their love — the former a frenetic storm, hounding islands and ships, dangerous when provoked; the latter a frozen lake, one step and the ice cracks on the shallow surface, pulling bright-eyed victims deep under, freezing them from head to toe.

in stories of antiquity, the two never truly meet, but somehow in this story, you and shanks experience what may be considered the most difficult sort of love to bear. potentially ill-fated and destined to fail, you delude yourself into thinking that you can have the entirety of his heart and not suffer any consequences. there’s no greater love than the one you desperately want to attain and can’t; it’s an addicting cycle that neither of you want to break.

PASSION X NOT X PAIN

from your father you learn obstinance; it’s carefully woven into your daily routines, each stitch tighter than the last, the thread unbelievably strong even as it’s pulled taut underneath your skin. by the time it reaches your bones, you’re already well into adulthood, fragility and naivety carelessly discarded, the remains intentionally desiccated, crumbling underneath your feet as you navigate through life. a never-ending labyrinth of torment and desire, a hunger for the unknown gnawing continuously in the pit of your stomach.

from your mother you learn humility; a tradition, she tells you, but adds as an afterthought: an eternal obligation. it sits on your shoulders, weighing you down, making you question every decision and thought. you never say what you truly mean, never ask for the things you want; resentment lines the crevices of your teeth, dictating your tone and choice of words. your tongue a maestro, pushing out each phrase with purpose; every word pinpricks your skin — a dull, cumbersome pain chipping away at your sanity.

you become obsessed with spontaneity, rejecting routines, and deviating from the norm. they can never keep you indoors long enough; you’re usually climbing something, running somewhere — enticed by the possibility of adventure. you leave your hometown to travel across the grand line, staying on various islands for months at a time — to learn about regional dishes and cultivate your skills.

your heart, unfortunately, has always been a flighty thing — falling in and out of love, leading you down a treacherous path, one that leaves a deep scar you can’t seem to heal no matter what you do. still, you fortify yourself any way you can; it’s not permanent, but it does the job somewhat effectively.

like clockwork, you find yourself in the middle of a busy street, perusing the market. you look over a round, shiny apple before buying a few to take home. unbeknownst to you, your day will quickly derail, bringing about impossibly rash decisions on your part.

as usual, it takes forever to dock the ship; he doesn’t even bother yelling t the new recruits, because he’s trying to ignore the hangover that’s kicking his ass right now. yasopp is cackling off to his right, tears flowing freely as he recants drunken tales from last night. he’d love to join his friend in all that revelry, but there’s a pounding in his head that won’t quite go away.

shanks downs another cool glass of water before loudly announcing that they need to find provisions before heading to their next destination.

the island isn’t hard to navigate, so they wander until they reach the lively town. it’s when you’re fussing with a vendor over the outrageous price for a small bottle of seasoning, that shanks notices you for the first time. as someone who takes pride in swallowing a great deal of pain without complaint, he’s finding it very difficult to not rub his chest — to somehow calm down that foolish heart of his.

it’s doing things it’s never done before; beating much too loudly, making his thoughts scatter around — it’s bothersome and he doubts he has time to deal with it. he almost voices that very sentiment out loud, but is distracted by your smile, which makes him take another step forward. then you’re laughing, another ordeal for him to suffer through — your voice melodic and hypnotizing.

shanks rubs his eyes repeatedly, blinking away any residual fatigue; surely it’s the fault of the bourbon they drank, because he must be dreaming. it wouldn’t be the first time he’s mistaken a dream for reality, although this strangely feels real to him. he’s not sure if it’s the shape of your jaw, or the roundness of your cheeks, but there’s something wholly familiar about you. he frowns at that, brings his hand to his chest to rub the ache away. it’s beckman who catches up with him first, dark eyes landing on shanks for a moment before following his line of sight.

throat dry, head a little fuzzy, shanks asks, “do you see her?”

the question is absurd, but he has to know; and even though it takes a moment, beckman finally answers him. “yes,” he says, voice low but certain, “she’s real, captain.”

he has no need to shop for vegetables, but winds up at the same stall as you. if he wasn’t so damn obvious, you probably wouldn’t have said anything — except, he’s crowding your space a little too much; but when you turn to tell him off, you hesitate. there’s no reason for him to be that tall, no reason for his ruggedness to add to his overall attractiveness — enough to incite irritation, that makes your face burn and siphons all your logic. his voice is doubly offensive — deep, husky, and gravelly, touching parts of you that you don’t want to think about.

what starts as a friendly conversation — of him asking about local cuisine, of you giving him recommendations on dishes to try — somehow morphs into shanks teasing you as if he’s known you for much longer than ten minutes. you’re not normally this social, preferring to keep to your own so that you won’t be bothered by people in general. the townspeople are more than friendly, and a little too overwhelming to be around; yet you don’t mind talking to him and find that it’s nearly impossible to pull yourself away.

fear — of vulnerability and intimacy — threads itself around your fingers, makes your hands shake as you hold onto your bags.

eventually, you give in and grace him with your name. he says it a few times, mostly to himself and you dislike the way you stand there, listening to him — caught in a thick net, completely unaware that the fortress you’ve built over the years has completely fallen apart. a terrifying feat, you think; one that makes you want to run until your legs give out. intrigued by your stubbornness and insatiable curiosity, shanks decides to stay on the island a little longer. his crew doesn’t mind, they like the break. yasopp tries to pry for more information, but shanks simply says he wants to relax for a bit.

it doesn’t take long for them to chisel away at your reluctance, a friendship that buds and transforms quickly. against your better judgment, you grow fond of them — with their rowdiness and frank manner of speech, with their crude jokes and ability to turn any gathering into a large party. adventurers and treasure fiends, a group with monstrous strength, not the sort of people your parents would’ve expected you to hang around.

and maybe that’s why you hardly resist their charm — or, his charm, you should say. because that’s what it really is, much to your disapproval.

you offer to cook for them one night, and after the first bite shanks asks you to join his crew. your initial refusal is met with a frown on his part; he insists that you join them — one can never have too many chefs on board, and lucky roux has already taken a liking to you. still, you refuse; and when shanks asks you the following morning, you refuse again.

there’s no real reason why you keep saying no. it’s mostly because you like seeing how frustrated he gets, where he huffs about it all damn day, claiming you’ve broken his heart for the fiftieth time that week. the best part is how his crew mates make fun of him for being rejected by you again.

he takes it all in stride, though — laughing along with everyone else, ordering another round of drinks. as wary as the townspeople were by shanks’ presence initially, they’ve come to appreciate his generous patronage. it’s not often that pirates settle in a specific area for longer than a few days, but shanks is determined not to leave without you. he’s not exactly sure why he feels compelled to take you along, and while a few of his crew mates have some sound theories as to why that is, he ignores them completely.

it's beckman who manages to convince you after eating a third lemon square; he’s impressed by your talent for creating delicate and delicious pastries, even more so by the fact that shanks to enjoy eating them more than he should.

“he doesn’t really care for sweets,” beckman says carefully, sipping his tea slowly, enjoying the warmth wafting from the hot drink.

you know better than to ask, but the question rolls off your tongue anyway. “who doesn’t?” you feign ignorance, fuss with a stray curl, tugging and playing with it while he eyes you critically.

the vice-captain reminds you that you can only travel so far along the grand line alone; and he’s right, you came to terms with that a while ago. it’s an opportunity for adventure, and a chance to hone your skills.

“fine,” you say, while crossing your arms, leaning forward on your chair. “how much?” not that you really care about the money, but they’re pirates — notorious ones, at that — you won’t risk your life sailing with them if the reward isn’t worth it.

a small smile works its way onto his lips as he motions for you to scoot closer. you oblige without hesitation but end up hopping out of your seat when he whispers the amount in your ear.

“that’s a lot of fucking money.” you almost don’t believe it, but beckman isn’t the childish sort, nor does he lie for the sake of lying. you swallow hard and don’t bother acting coy. “when do we leave?” it’s not exactly the sort of job you’d place on a resume, but you can’t say you aren’t excited to traverse across the ocean.

shanks offers more gold than necessary, but you’re not one to complain, nor do you care about bleeding a pirate dry of his stolen treasure. he decides to spend one final night on the island, so naturally his crew throws a large feast in celebration. you doubt you’ll ever get tired of their impromptu parties, or the raucous way they laugh and sing, voices carrying out into the sleepy streets. the energy is addictive and hard to escape; you soak it all up, allow it to loosen your bones. you laugh and drink with the others but keep your distance from a certain red-haired captain. you’re not sure how to be around him, especially now that you’ve accepted his invitation after fighting him for so long about it.

it’s completely by chance that you spot shanks near the bonfire; you think you’re being subtle when you watch him from afar, admiring the way his throat bobs when he tilts his head back to down a full glass of liquor. the fire emits a deep glow, one that extracts a memory from the back of your mind — oranges and yellows draping over him, an enigma that will always remain out of your reach no matter how hard you try.

the truth of it sits on your tongue — raw and distressing — so you down a shot of whiskey and maneuver through the crowd of people to find a place to sit and rest.

yassop and lucky roux tease shanks mercilessly throughout the day, so much that he ends up smoking more than he means to. a light haze clouds his rationality, and he mumbles under his breath, which only makes them laugh louder, pointing out his plight for all to hear. no matter how much he denies it, or how much he tells them that they’re full of shit, the story remains the same: boss has fallen in love. it’s annoying, to say the least. just because he feels calmer whenever you’re around, and just because his heart continues to beat louder — heavy, relentless, and unsettling — doesn’t mean that he’s fallen in love with you.

if anything, it means he needs to get off this damn island quickly. “it’s probably something in the water,” he tells himself. no need to stay long enough to carry it with him elsewhere.

a few hours later, nearly everyone is passed out, either from drinking or eating or both — and shanks, unfortunately, can’t seem to sleep. neither can you. he finds you walking alone on the beach, sandals in hand, humming something soft and familiar. before he can even make his presence known, you look over at him and a smile tugs on your lips. you’re not sure what compels you, but the sight of him standing there, watching you like you’re some sight to behold — and if anyone asked him at that exact moment, he would say that yes, you are — invites a small warmth to circle around your chest. an irresistible flame that grows hotter the closer he gets.

OBSESSED X & X IRRITABLE

what starts as subtle flirting rife with teasing jokes and lingering touches, turns into something frighteningly intense. shanks routinely teases you in front of everyone, and while you’re embarrassed by it sometimes, you actually like it. there’s a push and pull, where you also have him backed into a corner that he can’t escape from with his sanity intact.

shanks starts being more bold when he touches you, kissing you randomly in hallways when no one’s looking, his hand roaming down to your ass and squeezing it playfully. the rush makes everything worth it; he likes the way you push him away, and you like the way he chases you. if he knew that you’d fallen in love some time ago, he’d never let you live it down. his touches make your skin hot and your head fuzzy, leaving you light-headed and wanting for more. after a few months, though, he’s still given you no indication on whether this is a casual thing or something more.

you’re too afraid to ask at this point, always losing your nerve when he sweet talks you late at night. you swallow back your questions, but they pile up eventually, until you can’t take it anymore. after that stunt he pulled in that pub, he drunkenly tells yasopp to make up a shirt for you that says “angry when wet” on the front. your face burns, both in anger and in embarrassment when you receive the gift, and shanks laughs loudly when you throw the shirt at his face. he confesses that he forgot he even asked for yasopp to do that, which only makes him laugh harder.

in a fit of fury, you tell shanks that you refuse to have sex with him and that he has to keep his hands to himself. for a month, at least. he figures you’re all talk and only agrees to it because you’re so determined and cute when you’re angry like that. when the others find out about the ban, they ridicule their captain mercilessly. he tries to act unaffected, but something about the way you insist on seeing this ban through rubs him the wrong way.

it’s been twenty-two — no, twenty-three — days, and you’re barely keeping it together. shanks thinks it’s hilarious that you believe he’ll cave before you do; and you’re determined to make him suffer. now granted, you are to blame for the predicament you found yourself in just a month prior — even now, you still suffer from that embarrassment — when shanks fucked you in the back of that dingy pub.

they’ve all taken to calling you ladybug — bug, for short; something shanks thought up in the moment, spurned by yasopp’s laughter at the matter. and despite fighting against it initially, the nickname grows on you. shanks appears every bit as unaffected as he always does, still flirting with you whenever he can, but respecting your wishes all the same. regardless of that, he still finds ways to get under your skin. it’s your hope that holding out will make shanks realize that he wants you in a deeper way than just physical intimacy.

you should just let him go and move on, but you can’t. he always pulls you back, always finds a way to make you smile — the warmth from his presence is enough to burn you alive most days — and you find yourself wrapped up in him without realizing. incidentally, shanks also can’t let you go, and never intends to anyway. he’s a selfish creature by nature, not cognizant enough to recognize his own role in that.

on a sleepy morning, you take your time and carefully bake pastries for the crew. last night you promised them something tasty and sweet — your specialty, really — and they’ve given you room to work without interruption. as a chef for the red-hair pirates, you take pride in your work; in feeding the crew, in ensuring that they eat well-balanced meals that give them strength and energy. shanks has always been in awe of your talent — your hands are delicate and exact, skilled laborers that make brilliant works of art whenever you’re in the kitchen.

you’re humming a nameless tune to yourself, cutting up strawberries neatly, as another person silently invades your small sanctuary. while you wash your hands in the sink, shanks approaches you and a sudden awareness makes you freeze. his body barely touches yours, but he reaches over you to crab a cup out of the cabinet above your head. given the difference in your height, it always seems like he’s crowding you without trying. although in this instance, he’s intentionally doing so.

a groan rolls out of your mouth, frustration eating away at the remainder of your patience. you’ve been giving him short answers lately, barely looking at him — although, that isn’t exactly true; you’ve stolen more glances than you can count over the past month — so whenever he can, he finds ways to tease you mercilessly.

“oops,” his hand lowers so he can rinse out the cup, “didn’t mean to interrupt you, doll.”

teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you count to ten, breathe out of your nose and smile tightly. “uh huh,” his body is still much too close for your liking, “just make it fast.”

a sly grin, one that you can’t see, drifts onto his lips. “you know i can never turn down a quick fuck.”

you slap his hand, make him drop the cup into the sink, and spin around to face him. your face burns painfully, the flush a permanent fixture now that he’s moved on from light teasing, to full out being insufferable around you. “shanks, enough.” you shove his chest, much to his amusement, his eyes gleaming with mischief, but you can’t exactly look at him properly, can you? and when you manage to get over a bit of your embarrassment, manage to look up at him through your thick, dark lashes, you struck by his stupidly handsome face. despite his rugged exterior, you know there’s a gentleness that periodically comes out when the two of you are together.

an unexpected ache plagues your chest and you ignore it; but you miss touching his scars, miss kissing him and being kissed by him. he already smells like smoke and bourbon, a scent that you’ve come to covet over the past few weeks.

belatedly, shanks realizes that he miscalculated; your beauty still takes his breath away, especially when you’re this close to him. his eyes drift along your soft, round features, linger on your plump lips — where he’s suddenly overcome with the desire to trace your cupid’s bow with his fingers — and stare a little too hard at your neck that’s been blemish free for a while. a shame, really, as he likes when your neck shows proof of his affection for you. if he’s not careful, he’ll get sucked back into your orbit; as always, your brown eyes — intense, unyielding, a fusion of dulce de leche and tree bark — keep him rooted in place. your dark, curly hair continues to remind him of a storm that he desperately wants to navigate alone.

caught in a daze, he almost forgets that you’re mad at him, until you roll your eyes and push past him. he watches you languidly, completely smitten with you all over again, eyes transfixed on your retreating form — round ass and thick, curvy hips captivating him entirely.

you stomp away and leave the pastries to their own devices, reeling over the fact that shanks had the audacity to say that to you. but as you keep walking, the brisk morning air whipping around you, you realize you’re not upset because he said it. you’re upset because he didn’t actually try to fuck you in the kitchen.

a shame, you know, but you can’t help the thought.

it’s becoming more and more apparent now that you might be the only one suffering from this ban. you decide you need a better plan, one that is strong enough to withstand shanks’ careless attitude, one that might just push him to the edge.

a childish impulse strikes you, and you opt to give him the silent treatment, which only further amuses him. he watches you lazily, grinning each time you turn your nose up and stomp past him. you make it so easy he doesn’t even have to try riling you up. you ignoring him isn’t much of a big deal — so he tells himself — but when he sees just how friendly the crew is with you, something sinister builds inside the pit of his abdomen and works its way up to his chest. when you head back to finish working in the kitchen, he tells his crew that he’s implementing a new rule.

“no one,” he says, after gathering everyone else, surveying his crew mates critically, eyes particularly landing on yasopp and benn beckman, “touches ladybug. understood?”

they all agree, although beckman, lucky roux, and yasopp pull him aside to ask what this new rule is all about. shanks being shanks, playfully waves them off and starts drinking instead. beckman exchanges wary glances with the others, but they don’t push the issue. every time you try to get closer to someone — whether it’s a crew mate, or an overly friendly resident of a sea faring town — he finds a way to sabotage, laughing as you eye him angrily, hands balled into small fists, which only makes him laugh more.

THREE’S X A X CROWD

part of your duties is to accompany the crew as they go into town to scope out any local fruits and vegetables that you want to try. you like talking with the townspeople, like getting their insight on their regional dishes. you just live for the thrill of creating new, exciting meals and want your crew mates to feel the love that you pour into everything you make for them.

on a particular island, the ship is docked far enough away to not attract too much attention. there aren’t any major navy bases nearby, but one can’t be too careful in the new world, can they? there’s a festival in town, one that they keep advertising for. you catch wind and want to go, but shanks decrees that only a portion of the crew is allowed to disembark, while the others stand by on the ship. too many pirates traversing through the island will set off alarms; thankfully, the island is partial to the patronage of pirates, so they aren’t too upset that shanks’ crew has docked there.

somehow, you’re part of the group designated to stay on the ship, much to your annoyance. you try to plead with beckman, even go as far as pouting your lips, but he doesn’t budge. “captain’s orders,” which seems to be the norm these days. and when he sees the way your shoulders drop, he says, a little quietly, “sorry bug.” you know they’re just going to drink and act foolish on land, so you wait and take your time dressing up.  you have an actual reason for wanting to go into town; you need ingredients and don’t trust the others to shop properly for you, so you take matters into your own hands.

no one dares to stop you as you make your way off the ship; you tell the others you’ll be right back, and of course they believe you — why would you lie to them?

and you’re not lying, per se, you do want to get ingredients — although that isn’t your primary focus at the moment.

the festival is loud and seemingly merry with alcohol and food everywhere. thankfully the music makes the shitty alcohol taste better. shanks sits at a large table with the others, drinking, smoking, laughing as various people fawn over him and feed him cut up pieces of fruit. flirtatious by nature, he doesn’t even blink when they allow their delicate fingers to linger on his lips, or when they whisper things in his ear, or when they take turns to perch themselves on his lap.

for some reason, despite knowing that he should, he isn’t exactly stopping their advances.

guilt eats away at his crew mates at the sight of shanks on his usual path of self-destruction; yasopp tries to get him to see reason, beckman too, but he waves them off, saying he can do as he pleases. which only tells him that he’s still annoyed about you not talking to him properly these days. and, despite him not openly saying it, he’s suffering too.

you have fun watching the fireworks for a while, mesmerized by the loud explosions of color decorating the sky; before long, you find yourself in the middle of all the festivities, humming to yourself as you scope out the stalls. you get swept up into a small crowd of people and get turned around when you slip away. as you try to catch your bearings, you hear a familiar laugh and, on instinct, follow the sound of his voice.

while standing off to the side, you watch shanks and the others, heart beating far too loud for comfort. your hands ball into fists all over again, and you sink your nails into your palms when another woman drapes herself over shanks, giddy and tipsy, blushing every time he smiles her way. you know he’s just doing this because he’s pissed off at you, and rather than get sad, you decide to head to the pub and drink.

three drinks later, you saunter back out into the night and join the festival. you enjoy the way the music thrums underneath your skin, the beat thumping in your veins; a cool breeze travels nearby, making you feel light-headed. you forgot how freeing it is to be on your own — without a group of people to worry about, and a selfish captain who tramples over your heart and feelings repeatedly with his blasé attitude. maybe it would be better to just leave? but, the more you think about it, the more your head hurts, so you decide you’d rather enjoy yourself for a bit before heading back to the ship.

the alcohol makes you bolder than usual, and you’re all smiles with flushed cheeks when the vice-captain runs into you on his way to get more food. an incredibly foolish, petty idea crawls into your mind — it barely sits long enough before you act impulsively again.

“what are you doing here, bug?”

you simply shrug, as if you’ve embarked on an innocent expedition and didn’t expect to see him. beckman doesn’t buy the act one bit and pulls you into a nearby alley to talk with you privately. sighing loudly, he fixes you with a steely glare. “you’re suppose to be on the ship,” he says carefully, “d’you know how much trouble you’ll be in if shanks sees you here?” there’s no reason for him to tell you that, but you can’t fault him for trying to be nice. still, the idea of shanks thinking he can just dictate how you live your life, pushes you closer to the edge with your sanity barely intact.

and before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “i am not a child,” you say angrily; your annoyance has reached the point of no return, so you let the irritation flow freely and allow it to fuel your pettiness. beckman pauses for a moment before chuckling darkly, shaking his head at your antics. from the determination on your face, and the way you don’t seem to want to budge on the issue, he can understand why shanks is so smitten with you — in fact, everyone on their crew understands — so he relents.

“fine, i’ll accompany you, then.”

you hadn’t expected him to offer, and you feel the tension leave your body slowly. maybe you were overreacting a bit, and maybe you just need to relax and enjoy the night like everyone else. you visit several stalls and shop around for a bit; you like the vice-captain’s company as he doesn’t say much, nor does he complain when you make him try various sweets to see which ones you should recreate. and while you might not intend to, you can’t help but flirt with him a little — touching his arm, laughing at his dry humor, standing much closer than necessary. beckman knows what you’re doing, but he doesn’t stop you; maybe shanks will get his act together if he thinks he has competition. you doubt he will, but it’s always worth a try, right?

DIAMOND X IN THE X ROUGH

after a while, the merriment feels stale; shanks’ laughter is hollow, forced, and unbecoming. and while on the surface it looks like he’s soaking up all the attention that’s being given to him, he’s not happy about it at all. a small frown works its way onto his lips as he tries to work out the cause of his unhappiness, completely ignoring his role in all of this. he’s not sure what’s missing — or, rather, he’s sure, but he just doesn’t want to say it out loud. that would make it real, and while he doesn’t want to make a habit out of it, shanks has been lying to himself for some time now. he knows that if he’d let you come with them, he’d be having much more fun — that thought alone makes him reconsider how he’s handled everything between you two.

the universe, it seems, has a cruel sense of humor. as his thoughts continue to berate him, he spots you walking with beckman. he narrows his eyes at you both but offers a smile — one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes — once you approach the table.

jaw clenched, shanks manages to greet you without fail. “hey there, lovebug.” there’s tension in his shoulders, and that amiable demeanor of his is shed, which makes the women near him a little reluctant as they squirm awkwardly in their seats. “thought i told you to stay on the ship,” he says lightly, as if this is the most casual conversation in the world. beckman sighs, knowing that shanks will most likely read into the situation incorrectly; but before he can explain himself, he sits back down in his seat and pours himself a drink.

“you don’t own me,” you say with a slight huff, glancing over at shanks from the corners of your eyes, “i’m allowed to go where i please.”

shanks almost laughs at that, but keeps it inside; he wants to tell you that you’re wrong, but he knows that this isn’t the right time or place for that sort of discussion. lucky roux offers to make some room for you, but you smile sweetly and announce that there’s no need. they all look at you, confused and a little intrigued, and before lucky roux insists again, you say, “i have a seat already.”

without warning, you gently perch your round ass on top of beckman’s lap, effectively silencing the group around you. it suddenly feels as if time has slowed down for shanks, who shifts in his chair as he watches you and beckman.

the vice-captain sighs again and playfully pinches your side, a move that does not go unnoticed by shanks, of course. you let out a small shriek, cheeks burning, and swat his hand before scooting up higher on his lap. the move alone nearly sends shanks and beckman into an early grave, for different reasons, obviously. meanwhile you’re smiling like a cat — mischievous and proud, as if you’ve cornered your prey and you’re ready to pounce.

you look so damn smug and shanks wants to fuck your mouth for all of that insolence.

beckman holds onto your hip as you cross your legs, revealing the deep slit in your skirt. your legs are on display, catching the eyes of everyone at the table and the random party goers passing by. shanks clenches his jaw so tightly, it’s a miracle he hasn’t cracked his teeth. he knows that you’re provoking him into acting out, and while he doesn’t want to feed into it, his jealousy knows no bounds right now. especially since he knows you’re not wearing any panties — it’s why you chose that particular skirt.

you really only wanted to tease shanks a little, so you’re on cloud-nine when you notice how bothered he is over your little act.

it takes an inordinate amount of strength, on shanks’ part, to not split beckman’s face in two for his complicit behavior. he’s being unfair, he knows that — but he doesn’t really care. yasopp and lucky roux try to diffuse the situation with lighthearted banter and jokes — they also tell their guests to leave, because knowing shanks this might not end well.

beckman leans forward, lips ghosting along the shell of your ear, making your body warmer than necessary. “settle down, bug, we don’t want to cause a scene, do we?” you shake your head at that and swallow back whatever complaints you want to say when you see the hardened look on shanks’ face. you’ve only ever seen him that serious when his anger reaches a certain point — so you know you’ve fucked up pretty badly. you have the decency to act ashamed as you slide off beckman’s lap and grab your bags. you should probably say something to shanks, but you don’t bother looking back at him and instead head back to the ship.

you’re absolutely furious right now and so is shanks.

beckman rubs the back of his neck before leaning forward. “i told you, captain,” he keeps his tone friendly, yet firm, “if you’re not careful, one of us will take bug away.” at that, shanks casts a sharp glance at the other crew members seated at the table — the intensity behind his gaze forces them to turn away and look at other things. shanks motions for one of them to slide the bottle of vodka his way, and beckman groans audibly.

“not again, shanks, let—”

as shanks isn’t in a negotiating mood, he cuts his first mate off quickly — maliciously, even — with  venom sifting along his tongue, the layer thick enough he almost chokes on it. his voice is much too hoarse, but he spits out, “drink.”

it’s not a game that the red-hair pirates ever like to play with shanks, and he knows it; which is why he keeps insisting, and why his best friend keeps refusing. shanks’ anger reaches a tipping point; it transforms into a fire that steadily burns along the back of his neck, hot enough to make impulsive thoughts gather around him. the idea of extinguishing it never crosses his mind, although he knows that eventually he’ll need to face it head-on. and as he grips the bottle of alcohol tightly, a sharp moment of clarity hits him.

it’s by chance that he swallows it back, not wanting to make this even messier than it already is.

beckman shifts in his seat, a disapproving frown settling comfortably on his face. “it won’t be fair, i’m practically drunk already.”

“spare me the bullshit,” shanks says with a smile that serves as a small warning; he places a glass in front of beckman. “drink.” beckman pinches the space bridge of his nose and exhales a bit of his irritation. but when he picks up the glass, he recoils from the strong scent.

“this is practically rubbing alcohol.”

shanks only hums while shrugging lazily, before knocking back the drink; the burn revitalizes him, the pain reminds him that he’s alive. in a game of endurance, shanks always comes out on top. so it’s no wonder that beckman taps out after two shots.

“i value my liver, unlike you.”

this time, shanks’ laughter is genuine; he hops out of his chair and claps a hand on beckman’s back. “you’re forgiven,” he says when he leans down. as an afterthought, he adds, “this time.”

you’ve done a good job derailing his night — not that he can really blame you, he was being absolutely shameless in the worse way — so he’s decided he’s had enough. somehow, he’s rationalized that you’re the only childish and ridiculous person in this situation because he intends on stamping that attitude out.

SUN X STARS X MOON

you peruse shanks’ room while sipping from the bottle of rum you found. although you count tonight as a small victory against shanks, you didn’t think he’d get that mad. was all the teasing worth it, in the end? you leave the rum on the nightstand before climbing onto his bed and enjoy the softness of the mattress. maybe you overreacted, or maybe it’s all his fault. the guilt sits with you, until shanks enters his room.

“the hell are you doing back so soon?”

it’s not a proper greeting in the least, but you’re not exactly ready to deal with him just yet. but, since he’s already here, you might as well have it out. shanks closes the door and leans against it, partially obscured in the shadows as the moon bathes you in its light through the window.

“in case you’ve forgotten, this is my room and that’s my bed that you’re lounging comfortably on.”

he’s got you there. you roll your eyes in response, which draws out a chuckle from him once he pushes away from the door and goes to sit near you on the bed.

your emotions swell inside of you and become too heavy for you to keep hidden. “fine, whatever, i’ll leave.” you hop off the bed but then turn around. “you’re an asshole, you know that? you string me along for months and then anytime anyone else wants to talk to me you suddenly intervene.” the words tumble out of your mouth fluidly, you’re surprised your tongue could keep up. blinking back tears — because you refuse let him see you this vulnerable. “you piss me off so much, i… can’t do this anymore.”

it’s the first time that you’ve properly articulated how you’ve felt about this whole stupid situation. you feel a bit lighter but then sense of dread overcomes you, gnaws at your stomach — twisting and creating knots that make you want to run away forever. shanks takes a moment and mulls over your words, but his long silence is all the confirmation you need. you’re halfway to the door when he calls out to you.

“wait, come here.”

against your better judgment, you turn around and head back to his side. he sits on the edge of the bed, pulls you in between his legs, and warms an arm around you. “i hear you, bug, i really do.”

this is the first time he’s ever willingly said anything to make him vulnerable like that, so you relent, soften in his hold, allow your shattered heart to repair itself piece by piece. you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him softly. he’s normally much hastier with you — being a pirate captain, he barely has time to himself, so whenever he does get a moment to touch you, he’s always in a rush.

but tonight — the moon full and pink, hanging heavy in the sky, stars shimmering brilliantly around it — he opts to slow down. shanks takes his time memorizing the shape of your lips, tongue gently caressing yours as you sigh against his lips. he kisses you like he has all the time in the world, like he’s afraid you’ll leave him if he doesn’t. you’re certainly in no hurry to finish anytime soon. by the time you’re done kissing, you’re a little breathless and can barely hold it together. shanks, unsurprisingly, is in a similar predicament, as his cock hasn’t given him a day of peace since your ban started.

but he decides to let go and mumbles, “thirty days is a long fucking time,” and you laugh, surprised at his words.

you climb onto the bed with him, laughing as he drops playful kisses along your neck, and straddle him once he lies down on his back. you rub your ass against his stiff length, forcing him to groan audibly. he’s always more vocal when he’s tipsy, and the rum has you feeling bolder as the minutes pass by. before you can do it again, shanks slaps your ass hard and you let out an involuntary shriek.

he laughs at you, laughs at the way you’re suddenly acting demure, as if you weren’t the one who started this. “i thought you didn’t want anyone to hear you?” he gives you a knowing look and a sly smile crawls onto his face. heat travels along your skin, making your cheeks burn in the worst way; you place a hand over his mouth on impulse.

“shut up, what is wrong with you?”

you hate the way you’re suddenly embarrassed about all of this. shanks, however, takes it all in stride, laughing behind your hand and mumbling something unintelligible against your palm. he knows he needs to act quickly before she makes him cum in his pants without trying. so when you pull your hand back, he says, “come on, put your pretty pussy on my mouth.” you stare at him wide-eyed, but he doesn’t relent. you mumble something about possibly being too heavy, which makes him laugh at your ridiculous excuse.

“how many times do i need to show you?” his strength, he means.

before he can do anything too rash, you pull your skirt up and position yourself over his face, pussy already slick with your arousal. shanks runs his tongue along your folds, slipping it inside to give you a firm lick; he takes his time to eat you out, his pace tortuous but electrifying. you can barely keep quiet and moan louder than you mean to as you shamelessly ride his face. holding onto the headboard, a whirlwind whips about inside of your lower abdomen as he slurps your pussy sloppily. he pulls you closer, and your arousal drips down his lips and onto his chin. your pussy is always so eager for him, so naturally he wants to treat her right.

you lose a bit of your sanity when his tongue slips inside your hole, thrusting in and out, your whimpers and moans circling around him — the best sort of lullaby he could ask for. he flicks his tongue against your clit and you buck your hips, feverishly grinding your pussy on his tongue. he likes it when you let go like this — when you’re uncaring and free. you place so many barriers in front of your own happiness, so he’s determined to knock them all down while he can. you know it’s reckless to give in to your inhibitions like this, to fly this closely to this personified version of the sun. although, you do feel a surge of power, seeing him underneath you like that, in between your thick thighs.

if shanks is apollo, then you are a nymph with ties to the moon and the sea.

it’s when shanks swirls his tongue around your clit, mercilessly stroking it, sending tiny jolts through your thighs, making you tremble above him. the orgasm is transformative — you have tears in your eyes as you whimper pathetically, your pussy puffy and sensitive; but he doesn’t care. he licks your arousal off his lips, thinking you look divine and goddess-like in the interim following your orgasm.

time slows for you both, and maybe you’re imaging it, but your heartbeat matches his once you climb off of him. of course, as usual, shanks is smug and proud of himself, but when you start taking off your clothes and tossing them onto the floor, he follows suit. pre-cum drips slowly from the tip of his cock, and when you rub your wet pussy up and down his length, you let out a breathy moan. shanks watches you with lowered eyes, inhaling sharply once you sink down onto his cock.

your pussy swallows his girth with a slow descent, and he’s losing whatever sliver of control he thinks he has over himself when it comes to you. when his cock hits a particular spot, you shudder and moan his name; he could cum from that alone, he realizes, and it shocks the hell out of him. in retaliation, shanks thrusts into you once, then twice, as you claw at his chest and cry out for more. your pace quickens as you bounce on his cock, thighs trembling as you try to keep strong; the orgasm weakened you, but rather than give in, you keep going, rolling your hips against him, hypnotizing him without completely meaning to. he won’t last much longer at this rate, which is completely your fault, he reasons.

you ride him as long as you can, before frowning and slowing down. shanks looks at you slyly, unable to stop teasing you. “need some help?”

it’s your pride that doesn’t want you to ask for help, but you know that if you don’t, shanks will edge you until you’re on your knees in tears. “please.” if he wasn’t already teetering on the edge, your desperation would make him tease you more. he rolls so that he’s on top of you and leans forward to place kisses along your jaw and neck, loving how smooth and soft your skin is. because he’s obnoxious, he sucks and bites, leaving behind bruising marks on your neck and chest. he’s burning you alive, but you want more.

you drape your leg over his shoulder, and he kisses the inside of your thigh before flicking his tongue against your skin, enjoying the way you squirm underneath him, your heart beating much too fast in your chest, making you think seemingly impossible things. shanks slips his cock back inside of you, burying it completely, letting out a shaky breath at the way your plush walls suffocate him. the angle makes you buck your hips off the bed; he laughs darkly at your enthusiasm, but doesn’t move. the frustration alone could kill you; you want him to fuck you hard enough to shake your doubts, to combat all the warmth that keeps sliding through the cracks around your heart.

he moves his hips at his own leisure, giving you broad, powerful strokes — hard enough, that his balls slap against you, pussy squelching as he powers into you repeatedly. you should be embarrassed from the sounds alone — your pussy is wet enough for him to drown, but thankfully he’s got enough stamina to handle it.

each time his cock sinks deeper into your pussy, he feels reborn; like the sea — tumultuous, dizzying, captivating, and greedy — you suck him back in each time he tries pulling out. eventually, you wrap your arms around your thighs and he feels like you’re squeezing the remnants of his soul out of him. shanks rocks his hips against yours, rough and determined, sweat gliding along his skin. when he moans your name, your heart expands faster than you thought it would. shanks keeps his hips closer to yours, giving you short, quick thrusts, fucking you to remind you that he has no intention of letting you go. his breath is warm against your skin and you kiss him again, giving him ardent, sloppy tongue kisses that do nothing to calm you down. he swallows your moans as another orgasm grips you by the throat and nearly claims your life.

your pussy clenches around him tightly, so he takes that as a challenge and fucks you harder, giving you brutal, punishing strokes — frenetic and dizzying, making your mind spin too fast for you to keep up.

“shanks, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

whatever else you say after that is lost on you, incoherent babbling that makes him laugh at you again. it’s out of adoration, you know it is, even if he won’t openly say it. shanks e works you through your orgasm, hips jerking against yours, before his own pushes him completely over the edge. after giving you a few lazy thrusts, he cums inside of you, messy but satisfying. shanks slows down and tries to catch his breath, as you push your curls away from your face. he doesn’t leave your side after he pulls out, instead he pulls you close to him, his hand rubbing up and down your back, his subsequent kisses intense and possessive.

you don’t exactly know what will happen tomorrow, but for now you’ll cherish this moment and commit it to memory. with everything that’s happened, he doesn’t want to see you in the arms of another, and you don’t want to keep pushing him away. you’re sure something’s shifted fundamentally between you two, especially when you lay on top of him and listen to the steady, powerful beats of his heart. you suppose you can give him a little leeway, but you won’t tell him that right away. there’s a warmth that cloaks itself all over you, keeping you moored to him for the rest of the night; he enjoys the silence that accompanies your presence, and decides that he’s going to keep you for as long as he can.