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scoonsalicious · 3 days
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6.1 Bucky
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, nudity, Bucky's lies come back to bite his ass.
Please note: I'll be taking a break from posting starting on Thursday, May 16th to focus on writing, and will resume posting on Thursday, May 23rd.
Word Count: 1.1k
Previously On...: Porn. The last chapter was porn.
A/N: Sorry, besties; not sure what happened. I set this up to post at 445 per usual, and when I came back on, I saw it still hadn't gone up, so I'm doing it manually. I apologize for this screw up!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Bucky woke the next morning in a tangle of sheets and Major. He had to pee, but he didn’t want to get up. God, he never wanted to get up. If he could stay wrapped up with her like this, for the rest of his life, he thought, he would die happy. The very idea struck him like a brick– he’d given a lot of thought to his own death over the years, but never, not once, did he ever consider the possibility that he might actually die happy until this very moment. 
If she was in his life when he went, he realized, he very well could.
Major shifted in her sleep and snuggled further into Bucky’s chest with a contented sigh, and he felt his heart swell. If he wasn’t careful, at the rate his feelings were going, he was at risk of proposing to her before lunch. 
After about fifteen more minutes of blissfully watching Major sleep in his arms, Bucky couldn’t hold off his bladder any longer. Gently extricating himself from Major’s embrace so as not to disturb her, he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before heading to the bathroom. 
After he’d finished and washed his hands, he made his way back toward Major’s bed. As he passed by the string of clothes he’d discarded the night before, he heard a buzzing coming from his pants. He reached down and pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the caller ID.
Lily. Again.
Bucky sighed and took himself back to the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind him as he accepted the call.
“Hey, Lil, what’s up?” he asked, sitting down on the edge of Major’s whirlpool tub.
“Hey, Jamie,” she said, and Bucky could immediately tell something was wrong. She sounded… off, distressed. “Listen,” she continued, “I know you and Sam probably had a late night last night, and I hate bothering you…”
“What’s wrong, Lil?” Bucky asked, growing concerned now. 
“Well, I drove out to Langston Park to run the trails,” Lily began, “and I don’t know if I ran over a nail or had a slow leak, or what, but when I got back to the car, my tire was flat. I was kind of hoping you could meet me up here and help me change it?”
Bucky ran a hand over his stubble. “Shit,” he said. “You know I would in a heartbeat, Lil, but–”
“No, yeah,” Lily interrupted him. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I’m sure someone will drive by and I can flag them down for help–”
“Lily Anne McIntyre, you are not going to wave down a stranger and just hope that they’re not a murderer or a rapist,” Bucky said into the phone, a little louder than he intended. “Listen, I’m on my way, but I’m in the city, so it’s going to take me a little while, okay? Just… just stay in your car with the doors locked until I get there.”
“Oh my gosh, thank you so much, Jamie!” Lily’s voice was full of relief. “You’re my hero! I owe you, big time!”
Bucky cracked a smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Give me about forty-five minutes to get to you, okay? And remember, lock. your. doors.” 
“I promise,” Lily agreed before ending the call. 
Bucky stood up from the edge of the tub and went back into the bedroom and quietly put his clothes back on. Sitting down at the edge of Major’s side of the bed, he leaned down and began pressing kisses to her shoulder and collarbone until she stirred and started to stretch. 
With a lazy moan that sent the blood straight to Bucky’s dick, Major sleepily blinked her eyes open. “Why are you wearing so many clothes?” she asked him, her voice seductively husky with sleep. “Come back to bed.”
Bucky wanted to. Oh god, he really, really wanted to. “I’m so sorry, sugar,” he told her, leaning down to give her a proper kiss. 
“Bucky,” she laughed, pulling back from him, “I just woke up; I’m sure I have horrible morning breath.”
“Like I would ever care.” He cupped her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers, gently running his tongue along her lips so she opened her mouth to him. 
After a long moment, they broke apart, and Bucky rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t want to leave you,” he said softly. “But I’ve got to go.”
Major nuzzled her cheek against his. “So, don’t,” she murmured. “Stay.”
Bucky sighed. “I can’t. Lily’s got a flat tire; she’s waiting on me to come help her change it.” 
Major let out a puff of air through her lips. “Well, give me five minutes to get dressed and I can come with you,�� she offered hopefully. 
“I’d love that, doll,” Bucky said, frowning, “but Lily’s still pissed off about the bar and…” he ran a hand behind his neck, suddenly realizing how stupid this was going to sound, “I haven’t told her I’ve been seeing you.”
The change that came over Major was nearly imperceptible, but Bucky clocked it, all the same. Her eyes narrowed, her shoulders tensed and she pulled back from him by a hair.
“So,” Major began slowly, “where did she think you were last night when she called you, then? You said you’d already told her what you were up to. If she didn’t know you were with me, what did she think you were doing?”
“I told her I was having a guys’ night out in the city with Sam,” Bucky admitted, hating himself now for even deeming the lie necessary in the first place.
“I see.” The words were clipped, Major’s voice void of any emotion, and Bucky knew he’d fucked up. Immensely. “Well, you better get going, then, if Lily’s waiting on you.”
“Major.” Bucky put a hand on her arm, but she got up out of the bed, dragging the topsheet with her to wrap around herself and keep her body covered from him, as if now, suddenly, after everything they’d already done together, she no longer wanted him to see her naked. “Can we just–”
“You should go, Bucky,” she said again, not meeting his eye, and Bucky felt like absolute shit. 
“Can I call you later?” he asked, and he heard the note of desperation in his own voice, but Major just shrugged a shoulder. He tried to lean in to her to give her a kiss goodbye, but she stood there, still as a statue, so he simply pressed his lips to her forehead and sighed before showing himself to the door.
He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up, and he’d blown it. She’d probably never want to see him again, and honestly, could he blame her? He’d lied about being with her, like she was some kind of dirty secret. Sam had been right, though Bucky would never admit it to him. Why was he letting Lily’s opinion dictate how he lived his life?
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pynkgothicka · 3 days
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Knee Socks KNJ
Pairing - Tutor! Dark! Kim Namjoon x AFAB! Reader
Synopsis-Based off Parasite, your korean teacher leaves to go on a work study trip, and leaves you with his best friend to be a replacement teacher. Part 2 of the movies series.
Featuring - Brandon Perea (Angel From Nope)
Word Count - Around 3k
Tags and Warnings - age-gap, manipulation, murder, fingering, tutor/student relationship
Authors Note - As you can probably tell, the stories are majority very loosely based on the stories with me throwing my own twists into it all. Also Joon is a conglomerate of all the Parks (the poor family) into one character! Enjoy:3
A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!
“So you want me to basically be your substitute?”
Namjoon eyed his friend as he ate from the bowl of ramen in front of him. One of his old high school friends, Brandon, stopped by his apartment out of the blue. And of course, Namjoon was embarrassed, the place looked like a dump.
Which is exactly what it was.
A dump.
“Yeah, listen I know you're smart. And I know you need the pay.” Brandon said taking a bite out of his ramen. He used his chopstick to point at Namjoon. “Also I trust you man.”
Namjoon groaned out leaning back into his couch. “Trust me? With what? Don't tell me you got roped into something fucked up.”Namjoon complained. Brandon had that look in his eyes, Namjoon could tell when he was being shifty.
“So maybe I've kind of got something going with the girl, she's sweet, super sheltered, like the perfect girl,” Brandon says leaning back long with Namjoon. “I plan on asking her out when I'm back okay? I just need you to be so you man. All scholarly and shit.”
Namjoon thought about it for a minute. “How's the pay?”
“Around 500 a session. Trust me her family has the money to blow. They want the best and they trust me to have good recommendations. Also, the mom is a bit of an airhead anyway.”
“Fine, you're lucky I need to make rent.”
📖
You sat in your room bored out of your mind. Your mother told you that Brandon had found someone to continue your studies while he was away. You knew your mom was probably annoying the poor man downstairs. She had a habit of talking too much.
Curiosity got the better of you as you found yourself heading downstairs to your lavish mansion kitchen. You sat on the stairs, peering through the railing.
Your new tutor was handsome, slightly built with a buzz cut. He reminded you of men you see in movies, rich CEOs who would fall for their secretaries. Or even a dangerous boxer who has a soft spot for the ballerina.
Lost in your trance, your mom spotted you. “Oh! Sweetheart come down, Mr. Kim here would like to meet you.” You curse under your breath as you stand up and walk the rest of the way downstairs. Almost tripping as your socks slipped on the hardwood floor. You catch yourself walking over to the side of the island.
Mr. Kim looked at you for a moment before smiling. “Please call me Namjoon, Mr. Kim makes me sound old.” He said extending a hand. You take it and give him a slightly firm handshake.
“She'll call you Mr.Kim, respect always remember sweetheart?” Your mom cooed passing you a bowl of pomegranate seeds. You nod towards her as she smiles. “Okay now go study, Mr. Kim is a very smart man by the sound of it. If you need anything call me upstairs.”
You were already walking upstairs with Namjoon following close behind. You led him into your bedroom and sat down at your desk. You pull out the notebook that you and Brandon used. “Sorry if my mom was annoying you, she's ditzy like that.” You mumbled going to the practice test you were doing before Brandon left last session.
Snap!
You jump at Namjoons snapping right in front of your face. “I want you to focus. From what you're mother is telling me she wants you to pass with Korean as a foreign Language for college next semester correct?” You nod at Namjoon. You focus back in on the practice test.
It was a particular problem you stared at, and it was something you couldn't figure out. You were about to circle A but you were stopped by Namjoon grabbing your wrist. “Are you certain that's the answer?” He asks leaning next to you. You shake your head, no, your breathing rising in speed as his hand holds your own in place. “Then why are you answering it?”
“Because it's the next question?” You say your voice peeking as you finish the statement. It comes out like a question and more so it comes out as you being rude to him. You shake your head looking up at him. “Sorry… I mean… it's true I just didn't want you to take it as me being rude to you.”
“Focus.” He reprimands. “Look at the question and think again.” Namjoon let's go of your wrist and you reconsider the answer. It's D. The answer is D. You circle it and look back at Namjoon expecting a response. You're welcomed with a warm smile. “Very good.”
His hand digs into the bowl of pomegranate seeds and he pops one into your mouth. You blush as you feel the tips of his fingers touch your lips and the action in general. Not even Brandon did something that bold. “T-Thank you Namjoon.”
He gives you a warm smile, showing his dimples, something you just caught. “Good, now continue answering the rest of the questions, you don't want to do bad you're first day with me do you?”
📖
Once Namjoon got his pay and started his trek home he realized something. Brandon was right, you pretty much were the perfect girl. Just from one lesson, he realized he enjoyed teaching you something he's become so familiar with.
While he was lost in thought Brandon called him and Namjoon picked it up. “Hey, how was your first class?” Namjoon didn't want to tell him that he was secretly fond of the girl that Brandon liked and that he felt something for her as well so he chose to be as bland as possible.
“It was good. We just kind of reviewed what you guys already went over before.” Namjoon said crossing the street and walking into his apartment complex. He checked the mail seeing that he had nothing.
No one usually contacted him unless it was some bill.
“That's good, is she ok? I know I kind of left on short notice.” Brandon said into the phone. Namjoon hated that he felt indifferent towards Brandon's concerns. It wasn't really like him to see his friends whining about nothing in particular. “God I must've hurt her so bad.”
“I mean if she's hurt she didn't say anything about it, I mean I guess she was nervous,” Namjoon said entering his apartment. “I mean it's nothing bad for her to not be upset. Maybe she'll ask about you later?” God, he hated giving Brandon hope.
But Brandon took it as is. “Thanks, man, I really appreciate you doing this for me. Call you later.” And before Namjoon could even wish him goodbye the phone hung up in his face.
He let out a sigh before pouring a bowl of cereal. He wished you were there for him. You wouldn't have him eating this, you'd probably want him to eat better. Namjoon caught himself thinking in that way and he caught himself. He knew this would end badly. There is no other way it could go.
📖
Namjoon had taught you for about a month now, and you couldn't stop thinking about him. Even now as he sits next to you while you study what he taught you today, you couldn't help but fantasize about him.
You sat with your head down reading over the pages in your notebook. You poked your lip out, hoping he would notice you. It was fruitless of an attempt but you at least had to try.
“Namjoon, have you ever been in love?”
He looks up at you cocking a brow. “What does this have to do with Korean?” You look away at his question, keeping your eyes glued to the notebook. Namjoon takes his thumb and tilts your eyes to look into his own. “Look up here, Answer the question.”
Your eyes look away. “It was a dumb question, I shouldn't have asked it.”
“But you did. Why?”
You let out a sigh before responding. “Well, I was just wondering if you had, you don't have to answer it, I know it's off-topic.” You blabber on, Namjoon letting your head drop.
“Well, yeah of course. I'm 29, and I of course have had a few relationships. But they always just don't get it you know?” Namjoon rests his head in his hand, elbow resting on your desk. “They didn't want to change for the sake of our relationship. I guess I just have a bad taste in women huh?” He ended with a chuckle.
“Yeah, I mean what do you like in women…? I can probably be a good judge of character for you.” You add playing it off as being nice towards him. Maybe if he told you what he liked, you could change to fit his standards. Namjoon seemed to be a perfect man, and maybe you being almost 20 could be perfect in his eyes if you did.
He turned to look at you. “Well, I like my women of course pretty. Smart, shy, well… I mean that's too much already.” He said throwing his hand up to brush it off coyly. You put a hand on his thigh, looking into his eyes as to encourage him.
“Tell me, I want to know.”
“Well, I don't think it matters really. Unless you think that you're right for me.” Namjoon said leaning down to get closer to you. “Are you baby? Are you the right person for me?”
You nodded getting closer, your lips ghosting over his own. Namjoon does the final push, connecting your lips together. His hand goes to your hair, tangling his hand into it. His tongue brushed over your teeth, pushing into your mouth. You were messy, clunky, and unsure of what you were doing. As he pulled away, his chest rose and fell. “Do you think you love me?” He finally asks. “Is that why you asked me if I had ever been in love?”
“Mhmm, you're just so… amazing and wise… I've looked at you since you showed up in the kitchen…”
“Good, I think that you're amazing, and I want to see where this goes, I think you're the right person… the one I've been looking for,” Namjoon said before connecting your lips again.
📖
From that day on, every time you had a class with Namjoon, it was really spent cuddling and enjoying your time with the older man. Laying in bed, you two would usually talk about life, normally letting Namjoon talk and praise you. Maybe it was due to the fact you usually went along with whatever he wanted to do.
Like now.
You dug your nails into his arm, his hand dug into your panties, fingering you. He quieted your moans with his lips, you sitting in front of him, toes curling as they hang off your bed. “Joon…” You whine into his mouth, trying to be as quiet as possible. “It f-feels so good…”
His fingers curled, blunt nails hitting at your walls. “Yeah? Doesn't it feel good to be loved?” He said placing kisses down your neck, sucking a hickey to join new and faded ones. He usually couldn't keep his hands off of you, no matter what, usually liking for his hands to dig into your thighs, thumbs brushing over the top of your knee-high socks. But now he wanted to give you pleasure, something he called a gift since you two were together.
You nodded as you feel your cunt gush around his thick fingers. “Please let me cum… I need it, sir.” You moan quietly into his mouth. Namjoon only liked to be called sir when messing around. He told you that it made him feel empowered and that you being there made him feel so much better than usual. You saw nothing wrong with that of course, isn't that the role of a lover?
“Do it for me, baby, all over my fingers.” And you do, as soon as he says that, you throw your head back on his shoulder. You collapse onto him, Namjoon adjusting it to where you laid on him in bed. He stuck his fingers into his mouth, sucking off your juices. You couldn't help but blush. “You taste amazing, like always.”
You roll your eyes playfully. “Are you still going to be able to make it to my party? I know my parents invited you and stuff.” You ask, hand playing with your boyfriend's cheek. Of course, coming from a rich family meant you'd have large parties for your birthday. It's not like you wanted them but, they also told you they invited your tutor who just so happened to be your boyfriend.
Namjoon swatted at your fingers, chuckling a bit. “Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world. We just won't pretend to be a thing.” He says. You nod in agreement, knowing your parent's reaction would most likely ruin the party in general.
“Yeah… okay! We should have around 30 minutes left, and I really just want to nap.” You say closing your eyes and laying down your head. Namjoons hand stroked at your head soothing you to fall asleep.
📖
The day had come for your party, and Namjoon couldn't have been more excited. He put on a brand new suit, one he brought with the money he made from his newfound job. As he arrives at the home, he spots that people have already shown up and that it's an outside party at that. Namjoon walked towards the backyard patio, your father setting up a backdrop for pictures.
“Mr, Kim, just the man I wanted to see,” Your father behind raising up to hug the man. “I'm glad you made it, hey can you head inside to grab the champagne buckets? They should be in the cellar in the basement.”
Namjoon nodded. “Yes, of course, I'll be back.” Namjoon makes his way to the back door seeing a table of women who blew kisses at them. He smiled before going inside, taking his phone out to send you a quick text.
Namjoon: Just arrived! Ur dad is already putting me to work lol
Baby🤍: Oh goddd I'll get on him about it.
Baby🤍 Still getting ready though, so just work for him a bit until I finish. Luv uuuu!!!
Namjoon chuckled at your texts as he made his way into the kitchen.
“So when were you going to tell me you started fucking her?” Namjoon put his phone down to look up, seeing no one other than Brandon. He stood at the kitchen island leaning on it, a drink in hand.
“Oh, your back? I thought you'd be gone longer.” Namjoon commented before turning to head to the basement. He wasn't going to deal with Brandon and ruin his girlfriend's day.
That thought was before Brandon shoved Namjoon into a wall. Brandon held Namjoons shirt. “Don't play dumb with me, I went to see her. I was gonna gift her a letter and she said she already had a boyfriend. And I know the only dude she would see constantly was you. How could you? I asked you to do one thing and you couldn't even do that?!” Brandon said, getting in Namjoons face. He whinced, Brandon's forearm resting on Namjoons neck pushing down. There was no way he was going to die this way, not from Brandon's rage.
Namjoon pushed him off, then shoved him down the basement stairs. Namjoon stood there as he watched Brandon fall, head hitting the wood. He waited until the last thud, Namjoon slowly walking downstairs to see what he had just done. Once he reaches the bottom, Namjoon smiles, the sick sight of Brandon writhing on the ground groaning. A puddle of blood formed around him, the impact from hitting the concrete probably giving him a concussion.
The bottom of Namjoons shoes clicked as he made his way to the cellar. He took the metal branding tool used to mark the barrels. The sound of metal shrieked as he dragged it towards Brandon's beat-up corpse. “I'm sorry I have to do this, but you're in my way now. And we can't have that now can we?” Namjoon taunted raising the iron. Brandon's eyes opened slightly as he saw the iron come down on him.
Namjoon felt tears pour down his cheeks as he began to beat Brandon in.He coughed up blood, and Namjoon didn't stop beating Brandon until he was certain he was dead. Once he came to that conclusion he dropped the iron. "Why did you make me do that huh?!" Namjoon yelled at no one. "You ruin everything, god, im happy you're fucking gone."
Namjoon claimed himself wiping his eyes of tears. He got up and grabbed the champagne buckets. He looked back before heading out of the basement, locking the door. He lets out a sigh before leaving, not looking back. He had bigger plans now, and Brandon wasn't in them.
He couldn't be in them.
Namjoons eyes trailed over your form, stopping at your socks as you laughed with your family. Outside the patio, you see Namjoon carrying the ice buckets and wave him over. He smiles at you before signing and returning to his girlfriend who he plans to keep forever.
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eliashirsch · 5 hours
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God Tier Top Gun Fanfictions. A Masterlist. (1/3)
As of 15th May 2024, these are some of the BEST stories I have read in the fandom. Of course, this is completely subjective and there are many personal factors as to why I crowned them God Tier. 
Mainly:
Reading it for the first time: ‘Oh, this is really good, I’m going to be thinking about this for the rest of my life’
When compiling the list: ‘Oh my god, this fic, man, this fic!!’
There are many other fics that match the first criteria, but for it to be on this list, I needed to have these two reactions.
REMINDER! READ THE AUTHORS' TAGS AND WARNINGS!!! They’re there for a reason. PLEASE make sure you understand where the story is going to be before reading!!
Without further ado, I present to you, my roman empires:)
Winner Categories:
1. Best of the Best Authors (1/3)
2. Best of the Best Series (2/3)
3. Best of the Best Fics (3/3)
4. :]
Best of the Best Authors
Authors that I trust with my life, whose work are ALL incredibly well written. 
COMPACFLT @compacflt
They’re the first person to pop in my head when I was thinking about making this list. No amount of time and words will be enough for me to describe how good their work is. Seriously. It’s on a level I’ve never seen before for fanfiction. The world building, the characterization, the prose, everything. COMPACFLT has a way of understanding these characters, it makes so much sense and fits so well with canon. I’m just at a loss for words. Genuinely the reason I converted to Icemav supremacy.
When We Get Around to Talking About It 
Goose has been dead for a week and a half when Iceman loses his first wingman in a dogfight with six Soviet MiGs over the Sea of Okhotsk. Goose has been dead for thirty years when Iceman loses his second wingman to a surface-to-air missile on the tail-end of a mission he's responsible for: he's sent his family on a suicide mission to destroy a uranium enrichment facility in Russia's Far East. This is the story of those thirty years in the middle. (Or: Tom Kazansky rises through the ranks while trying to stay a good man. If he ever was one to begin with.)
This was the first story I’ve read from them. And it’s so… I don’t have words.  It’s told from Ice’s perspective, filling the gaps between TG and TG:M with added Icemav and Hangster. In my mind this is canon:D
Debriefing (& Other Stories)
"We can start here, I guess. If we're talking about us," Pete says. "Nineteen-eighty-six. The first thing I thought, when I saw you in that O-club, was: Iceman is off-limits. Capital O, capital L." Despite himself, despite the fear, Tom laughs a little. "Oh, yeah? Why's that?" "Well, first off, we were competition. And yeah, you were attractive, but then you opened your mouth and I swear. You were just an asshole. Goose is trying to introduce you to me and here I am thinking about how much of an asshole you are. Shut up about Cougar, asshole." "It was supposed to be a friendly competition!" "Yeah, right. So that's what I was thinking: he's attractive, clearly doesn't know how to talk to other men, might be into the proposition if I framed it the right way. But he's an asshole, so this competition is just gonna be friendly." Pete pauses. Then he says, "Ice, you wanna get married?" And that's how they start talking about it. (Or: they finally get around to talking about it. Plus a couple extra stories for good luck.)
Sigh and send COMPACFLT a loving look. This Maverick's POV adds so much to the story without being repetitive. COMPACFLT deliberately tells their story like puzzle pieces, and they complete each other—just like Icemav, if you will. 
The Slider oneshot is truly something else. I was so eager for the upload and kept an eye on their account for updates religiously. To flesh out a character that barely has any source material is an incredible skill to have. And the Bradley oneshot… Omg… My favorite characterization of Bradley, period. 
Tremors & Aftershocks
They both come back to their senses and stop openly crying again eventually. The stitches fall out of the thirty-year-old wounds and the scars fade back to skin-color. Life stops being so painfully raw after a couple weeks back home. You get used to miracles the way you get used to anything else. One day at a time. [Or: 40 years of extras, from 1982-2022. Some true love, some heartbreak, some miracles.]
To me, this one has a different feeling from the other two. More focused on Ice and Mav’s relationship as opposed to the whole plotline. It’s tender and bittersweet and feels like being hugged for the first time and then told that you wouldn’t get another hug in thirty years time.  
What impresses me most is that, if you go to COMPACFLT’s Tumblr account, you’ll see the thought they’ve put for these stories are INSANE. They’re so educated on the military and its history and it adds so much to these characters. I’m not American and all my writing for Top Gun will always stem from google searches and other fics. If you’re a nerd like me and like to read about other’s analysis about topics they know nothing about, I suggest you go to their account and have fun.
COMPACFLT, you have captured my soul with your writing. Thank you for your service and I wish you well in life.
AortaArgent @aortaargent
If you’re looking for an author who can write smut like nothing else, go to their profile. Better yet, click here, and scroll down to the threads they made about girl!Mav and get horny real quick. It’s a shortcut to heaven really. (And yes, I’m still upset that they seem to have left the fandom, but I still hold the stories they’ve left behind close to my heart:)) My favorites:
like a shotgun (needs an outcome)
“Ice gave me a handjob when we did this,” he argues. “Oh, that’s what gets you moving? Seeing who comes first?” With that, Slider takes hold of him, wrapping his hand around and keeping his fist steady. “Go on, baby girl. Fuck it like a good little -” He squeezes Slider’s balls a little harder than he’d imagine is necessarily pleasant. For Slider. It's definitely nice for him. “Fuck,” Kerner chokes out, weakly. Ice sounds like he’s trying not to laugh. “I told you he bites.” In which there are multiple realisations, improbable numbers of pilots hanging out in a shared shower, volleyball games and verbal tennis. Yes, it's compulsory to wear your dogtags in the shower - never know when you could need identification. (Only kidding, it's for added fuckability.)
It’s so hot... but believable at the same time. BDSM is just one of those things where you read about it and can tell if the author has experience or is just extremely well-informed. 
Eye to Eye 
“Maybe it’s not just us looking to get a piece of you,” Wolf says. He’s right by Maverick’s head, and a shiver rolls down his shoulders in a sweeping tide at the soft click of each word against his ear. “Maybe we offered. You’re so pretty, Mav. It’s not a hard sell.” His hands twitch with the effort of not reaching up to tear off the blindfold and find out if they’re telling the truth or just winding him up. It’s possible. Occupied, blindfolded, he might not have noticed the door opening. More guys could have been in the showers. Two hands circle his ankles, firm over his boots, and hold him steady. Someone else has his left hand, kneading the tendons down the back of it. Anyone and anything is plausible. A continuation. Finally.
HOT DAMN. That’s all.
AortaArgent portrayed Ice and Mav’s relationship as absolute and secure while having fun with Mav’s dynamic with the other guys. All of their works are mind-boggling and simply amazing!
thecarlysutra @icemankazansky
Need I say more? Carly’s one of the most prominent members of the Top Gun fandom. Actually, I trust any member of the Top Gun Old Guard. With Carly, there’s something about their writing that makes me think of discovering an old box of CDs you used to watch relentlessly, dusty and worn, but the nostalgia rushes back and it’s achingly familiar. You can tell they’ve been writing for Top Gun for so long the characters kind of became their own. And when you click on any fic they wrote, you can fall and trust they’ll catch you. My favorites:
and i promise, you're the locksmith
“Is something going on in your neighborhood?” Maverick asked. “Like … a pest problem or something?” “You could say that,” Ice said. “Like … a coyote or something?” “Suitors,” Ice said. Maverick's attempts to woo Iceman are somewhat complicated by the promise Ice has made: Anyone who wants to marry him must catch his cat, which wears the key to his house around its neck on a silver chain. Inspired by the Tumblr legend.
This one’s so cute!!! Ugh, I’m never going to get tired of reading Icemav fall in love over and over again. 
Dreams of Impact
Maverick's trip in Darkstar takes him further than he ever imagined possible.
Sigh for the second time and send hearts Carly’s way. Basically, Mav gets transported to another universe and weird things happen. I love fics that dabble with the universe, the what-ifs, the what could’ve been. Do you ever have that moment when you make a decision, look back and wonder how life would be if you chose differently? Click on the link and read 🫵
aelibia @topgunreacts
God. aelibia’s just too good. It’s like banger after banger after banger. If you’re looking for an author whose work is a guaranteed good read, click the link and it’ll show you magic. They have Icemav ranging from tender and soft to angsty, portraying all different sorts of love and a way of writing explicit sex that I’ve never found anywhere else. 
I can’t even pick which one’s my favorite because they’re all my favorite. Especially the series they wrote, oh my god. I love them all. However, one that I reread religiously and being giddy over is this:
Wine Dark Sea
Raised by a selkie mother bound to a human man, Ice returns to the human world as a teenager with a singular purpose: to find the source of human strength, and claim it for himself. But after a careless mistake binds him to another human man, Ice is forced to reconsider his most fundamental beliefs: What is the meaning of strength? And what is the cost of freedom?
It’s so silly at times and heartbreaking most of the time. I especially love the later chapters where the evil is defeated and Ice is just being a silly seal while Mav’s being the supportive partner that he is. This fic is the SOLE REASON that my favorite animal is a seal. Thank you for opening my eyes to something that has been so obvious from the start, your majesty aelibia.
I also humbly present these seal drawings because the image of Ice galumphing around a Navy base, complete with wet smacks and people shrieking in horror makes me laugh everyday. That, and the scene where Mav is surrounded by four fat harbor seal pups and reading a story to them. Eleven out of ten. 
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This one’s my favorite:}
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nerdraging4point0 · 22 hours
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Blood of Eden // Chapter Eleven // Urban Fantasy AU
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Tropes and Tags: MM, MF, MFM, MFM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed men, polyverse, shapeshifters.
CW: 18+ only minors DNI. Urban Fantasy romance, Smut. Angst. Fluff (ish), Story includes D/S themes, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of drug use and distribution, mentions of prostitution, unprotected sex, male receiving oral sex, female receiving oral sex, cuckolding, P/A sex, P/V sex.
This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.
Taglist(click to be added): @ladyveronikawrites @mysticdoodlez @poisongirl616 @shilohrosechicken @cookiesupplier @meliferafaerie @concreteemo @itsafullmoon @letmeadoreyoux @transparentwitchnightmare @spicywhenspeaking @somewhere-diamond @iknownothingpeople @darling-millicent-aubrey @badomensls @somebodyels3 @jakeygvf21 @badomensls
Jolly and Maria sat in tense silence in her office, the weight of their discovery hanging heavily over them. The journey back from the lab had been just as quiet, Maria poring over the reports they had hastily printed before leaving. In her hands were three vital sheets of paper - one showing the DNA profile of a current Mage magistrate, ancient and powerful; another revealing snippets of DNA from an ancient celestial being, studied purely for historical record. But it was the third sheet that held the most explosive information - the DNA sequence of their young ward Rosa. While much of her genetic code matched the ancient celestial sample, there were extra threads woven throughout, a new and powerful strain that exceeded anything in that historic remnant.
Maria and Jolly were stunned to realize that Rosa was so much more than she seemed. Her genetic code contained secrets and profound power, unlike anything the Mages had encountered before. 
"The sample must be tainted." Maria spoke out loud. Her own train of thought on the same track as Jolly's. "Or we collected it wrong." Maria's voice was tinged with frustration as she contemplated the anomalous results. 
Jolly sat hunched in his chair, elbows resting on his knees, fingers interlaced as his leg nervously bounced up and down. The jingling watch on his shaking wrist seemed to tick in time with his racing mind. "I don't think the collection was wrong, and the old sample was ancient, but the answer remains the same," he muttered barely above a whisper. 
“Can we honestly say that she is a celestial? A mortal, a human, with no ties to the magistrate being a celestial?” Maria sat up in her chair folding her arms over the edge of her desk.
“Do we then believe that she has had no knowledge of this world, whatsoever?” Maria’s tone changed, almost like she was nervous, or judgemental. “She knew the nightshade worked, maybe she was creating just enough to make her sick but not kill her.”
Jolly struggled to fully accept the notion that this unassuming woman walking among them could be a celestial envoy from the magistrate realm. He stood up from the chair and paced back and forth, rubbing his temples as he wracked his brain for an explanation. If she was celestial, why hide it? Why allow herself to ingest a near-fatal amount of poison instead of simply revealing her true nature? Maria seemed convinced of Rosa's deception, accusing her of carefully calibrating the nightshade dose to merely feign sickness. But Jolly wasn't ready to make that leap yet. Rosa had shown no malice or ill intent thus far. 
“I don’t think she is dangerous,” he finally said. 
“Is that your professional or personal opinion?” Jolly turned to look at his friend whose eyes were scanning him for the answer. 
“Both” he admitted. Maria let out a loud sigh dropping her forehead on her arms. 
The rhythmic beeping of the alarm shattered the tense silence in Maria's office, directing their attention to the anomalous readings on Jolly's phone. Noah's heart rate showed a perplexing split - simultaneously elevated yet slowed, his heartbeat pulsing to an irregular cadence. Jolly furrowed his brow as he studied the waveforms dancing across the screen, trying to make sense of the contradictory signals. Noah's brain activity also seemed caught between stimulation and sedation, the spikes and valleys of neural excitation at odds. Had Noah been poisoned? Or was he under some psychic assault, his body and mind pulled in opposite directions by forces unknown? As Jolly shared the data with Maria, he saw his own shock and bewilderment mirrored on her face. Something was drastically wrong, that much was clear. 
Jolly threw on his jacket and headed for the elevator, running through the halls his phone vibrating as Noah’s vitals leveled out and Jolly wondered if maybe it had been a fluke. After he’d made it to the parking garage and started the car Noah’s vitals spiked and split again. Jolly tore out of his parking space tires squealing and echoing off the concrete walls. Adrenaline flooding his veins, Jolly slammed the accelerator, the smell of burning rubber filling the air as he peeled out of the parking garage. The walls amplified the screech of his tires as he sped off, weaving recklessly through traffic with only one thought on his mind: getting to Noah. Jolly's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, his eyes wild and movements frenzied, consumed by fear.
As he drove back to their shared apartment, Noah's readings remained steady until he reached their elevator. The numbers on the device suddenly spiked and then split dramatically, just as they had done before. Jolly's heart began to race as he pressed the elevator button repeatedly, trying in vain to make the doors open faster. He had tried calling Noah several times during the drive over, but there was no answer. When the elevator finally arrived and the doors slid open, Jolly practically shoved them aside in his haste. He sprinted down the hall to their apartment door, fumbling to unlock it with shaking hands as he called out Noah's name. Hearing no response, Jolly rushed down the hallway towards Noah's bedroom, his mind racing with possibilities. The door was cracked open, and Jolly could smell the lingering scent of a recent shower as he stepped inside. He froze in place as the scene before him sunk in. There was Noah, sitting on the edge of his bed, with Rosa straddling his lap. Her hips undulated sensuously as her hands braced against his chest. She leaned forward, reaching up to gently caress his cheek as Noah let his head roll back at her touch.
Tilting her head back, her eyes fluttering open to meet Jolly's own gaze. The colors of the galaxy swirled within her iris, hints of blues and purples mixing together like a cosmic painting. She dropped her chin, a coy smile spreading across her lips as she hooked a finger to beckon him closer. Her long hair cascaded down her back in soft waves. As Jolly stepped forward, drawn in by her siren's call, Rosa turned her attention back to Noah beneath her. Approaching cautiously, he was hungry for them together; while waiting for Rosa to recover, it had left him and Noah worried about her and neglecting their own needs. Jolly reached out, gently brushing Rosa's hair aside to reveal the smooth skin of her neck. He placed a soft kiss upon her pulse point, feeling it quicken under his lips. Rosa let out a contented sigh, her eyes slipping closed once more as she enjoyed the sensual caresses of the two men. Jolly continued trailing kisses down her neck as Noah's hands came up to grasp her hips.
“Mmm, I knew you’d come.” she hummed. Jolly’s motions stilled as he leaned back away from the both of them, watching their bodies tangle together. He looked to Noah, whose own eyes opened and the reflection of Rosa’s galaxy swirled iris staring back at him. Connected. They were connected. 
“How?” he whispered as he leaned over Noah’s face looking into his swirling eyes.
“Blood. Her blood.” He panted, throwing his head back and his back arching as she rolled onto his hips faster. Jolly turned and saw the new bite between her neck and shoulder. 
“Are you in pain?” Jolly ignored the twitch of his cock in his pants as Noah whimpered with delight while Rosa rode him slowly. His eyes snapped open and the color of his soft brown eyes restored. 
“Answer him, Noah.” Rosa stilled her movements sitting in his lap like a statue, all while Noah took his hands trying to force her to move. Noah’s eyes looked to his master and he swallowed hard. 
“No. No pain. She’s. She’s. She’s divine, master,” he forced the words looking back at Rosa before begging her to move again. 
Jolly was conflicted as he gently brushed Rosa's hair aside to examine the fresh bite mark on her neck, noticing how the pink skin was already beginning to heal. In the short time he had known her, Rosa had found a place in his heart, challenging everything he thought he knew about Celestials. Jolly had been raised to see Celestials as bloodthirsty tyrants who wanted nothing more than to destroy his people. Yet Rosa was so different - gentle, kind, and caring. 
“Master?” Her soft voice called him out of his head, bringing him out of his troubled thoughts, he couldn't help but tenderly cup her cheek in his hand. As Rosa covered his hand with her own and leaned into his touch, Jolly was torn. His heart told him that she was not the monster he had been taught Celestials were, but he couldn't ignore a lifetime of warnings about her kind. He cared for Rosa deeply, more than he ever thought possible, but allowing himself to fully give in to those feelings meant betraying all he had ever known. Stroking her cheek with his thumb, Jolly struggled internally between his feelings and his duty, wanting nothing more than to stay in this moment with Rosa forever.
“Am I? Am I your master?” Jolly wasn’t sure anymore. He’d felt in charge all this time, like he’d been in control. But Rosa had flipped that dynamic, or was it the realization of her lineage. Did Jolly feel inferior to a being that was more powerful than even himself, or did he fear that one day she would reject them both no longer satisfied with them. Would she throw away everything they had grown so comfortable with, so fond of. 
Rosa’s eyes turned to Noah as she hooked her finger at him, he sat up at the waist, his arms circling her body. Her grip on his chin was firm, commanding, as she directed his gaze to Jolly. As both Noah and Rosa looked into his eyes he felt himself straining desperately against the zipper of his pants. “Our master.” Rosa confirmed. 
Jolly’s forehead dipped, resting on Rosa’s as her eyes closed and their noses brushed. She smiled while she took in a deep breath of his scent. Content. 
“Show me, sunshine. What can you do?” Her brows crinkled and when her eyes opened, she searched his gaze and he saw her lip tremble. 
“I-I don’t know if I can.” For the first time since Jolly has known Rosa, her voice wavered. Jolly cupped her face in his hands, his calloused thumbs gently caressing her delicate cheekbones. He had never seen such vulnerability and fear in his sunshine's eyes before. He leaned in, taking her lips with his own. Her kiss was hungry as her hands tangled in his hair, pulling the elastic band to free his locks. Pulling apart from her he studied her face, eyes rimming just barely with tears. Jolly ached to see his vibrant girl so full of doubt and hesitation. He pressed his forehead to hers, their noses touching, breaths mingling.
 "You can do anything," he whispered, hoping she felt the conviction in his words. She needed to know he believed in her, even if she didn't believe in herself at this moment. Her hands slid from his hair down to grip his shirt, anchoring herself to him. Jolly kissed her again, softly this time, trying to breathe courage into her lungs.
Rosa's mesmerizing eyes became their hypnotic pools of purple, blue, and green hues. As she straddled Noah, grinding her hips against his, Jolly could not take his eyes off her. Noah grasped Rosa's hips tightly, holding her in place as she moved. Meanwhile, Jolly began to undress, unbuttoning and tearing off his shirt in anticipation. He maintained eye contact with Rosa the whole time, captivated by her gaze. As Jolly removed his undershirt, exposing his muscular chest and abs, Rosa reached out to touch him. Her hand caressed his bare skin, her fingers tracing along his muscles. Her touch fueled Jolly's passion as he watched her continue to ride Noah's body. Rosa's movements became faster and more urgent as she neared climax, her hypnotic eyes holding Jolly's stare the entire time. The tension in the room was palpable as the three became lost in each other. 
Jolly tossed his pants away releasing his hard cock, Rosa's gaze faltered, her eyes instinctively drawn downwards to take in the sight before her. A soft whimper escaped Noah's lips, his eyes widening as he stared, transfixed. His tongue darted out to wet his mouth, soft and pouty. Reaching out with his magical abilities, Jolly could sense the quickened heartbeats of his partners. Noah's heart pounded rapidly, fueled by nervous excitement. Rosa's heart beat steady yet fluttering, like the wings of a hummingbird. Jolly focused, allowing his own heartbeat to find the perfect rhythm to complement theirs. His magic allowed him to feel their arousal, their trepidation, their longing. 
Jolly positioned himself behind Rosa, his hands tracing the lines of her neck and shoulders down her curves to her hips. “That’s it,” he encouraged gripping her skin as he pulled her down and rolled her hard, pushing Noah deep inside her, “Ride our pet, sunshine.” 
As Noah's eyes rolled back in his head, Jolly could feel their heart beats fall into sync, their blood flowing in tandem, converging into one unified rhythm. He gasped a little at the dramatic shift, the sudden connection between them unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It was as if their hearts were beating as one, their life forces merging. Jolly could sense Noah's pulse echoing his own, could feel it reverberating through his veins. The synchrony was uncanny, profound, almost supernatural in its intensity. Jolly was overcome by the intimacy of it, the way their bodies seemed to be communing on some deeper level. 
“Does he like it, sunshine?” Jolly teased forcing Rosa to fuck him harder. She didn’t answer, only moaned in response. Jolly felt the strange sensation of something crawling up the back of his neck, itching just beneath the skin, dancing around his nerves. It was a prickling, a needling feeling slithering up his spine. He relaxed his mind, focusing on the odd tingling as it warmed through his skin, into his cerebellum. Jolly realized this was not his own sensation, but rather a phantom feeling being psychically transmitted to him. As Jolly concentrated, the sensations grew more vivid - the urgent thrusting, the tightness building to release. Though second-hand, the impressions flooding Jolly's mind were unmistakably erotic, and he could not help but be aroused. 
Jolly's breath quickened as he immersed his mind completely in the feelings, marveling at the intimacy of knowing his pet’s pleasure so acutely. For an instant, the psychic link blurred the lines between them, merging their identities into one. He could feel his own cock throbbing, needing it. He released Rosa’s hips, his lips dropping to the shell of her ear, “lay on him, sunshine.” 
Rosa effortlessly leaned forward as Noah pulled her into his strong embrace. Their lips met in a hungry, passionate kiss that sent electricity coursing through their bodies. Jolly could feel their passion as it raced through their veins.  She pressed herself against his muscular chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart that matched her own. Noah's hands roamed over her back, gently guiding her into an arch that allowed him to deepen the kiss even further. Lost in the throes of passion, neither noticed as Jolly approached from behind. With a mischievous grin, he placed his hands on Rosa's lower back and gave a playful push. The arch of her back became more pronounced, giving Jolly an unobstructed view of where she and Noah were intimately joined. Unable to resist, he took himself in hand and pressed the tip of his cock against Noah's slick shaft, nudging it aside to make room for both men within Rosa's warmth. 
A soft gasp escaped Rosa’s lips as she felt Jolly's firm thrust. But the gasp soon melted into a moan of pleasure as she gave herself over to the exquisite sensations of being filled completely by the two men. 
“That’s it sunshine, you’ll take us both.” Jolly’s encouraging tone made her whine and Noah whimpered beneath them. 
“Master,” he whimpered and Jolly felt himself twitch against his pet's cock as they both sank deep into her. The intertwined trio moved as one, their three bodies knotted together in a passionate embrace. Rosa arched her back, her head lolling against Jolly's sturdy shoulder as waves of pleasure radiated through her core. She reached up, cupping Jolly's stubbled cheek to guide his lips to hers. Their kiss was hungry and deep, tongues dancing as Rosa's hand found Noah's and their fingers interlaced. Noah's strong arm encircled Rosa's hip, his palm pressed into the small of her back as his fingertips grazed Jolly's knuckles. The three lovers lost in the intimacy of the moment, their bodies acting on instinct and desire.
Months passed in a monotonous blur as she recuperated, her body slowly healing but her spirit diminished. When she was finally back on her feet, Oli and Noah took her downtown to revisit the apartment she once called home. As they approached the familiar building, she was crestfallen to see an eviction notice plastered on the door, with a sticky note attached bearing the hastily scrawled word "sorry." Pushing open the door, she scanned the now empty apartment, looking for what few possessions might still hold meaning. Her clothes and personal items were gone, but a few photos still hung crookedly on the walls, forgotten in the haste of the eviction. She paused at a picture of her smiling face nestled between two other carefree girls, no more than three years ago but felt like centuries in the past. She had not spoken to her family in years, and her friends were long gone from her life. Staring at the remnants of happier times, she pondered the reckless path that had led her to isolation and ruin.
"Mistress," he offered, unsure how to comfort her or help her, speaking softly as if afraid his words might break her. She gave him a faint smile in return, tossing the photo on her unmade bed without hesitation, ready to leave the pain of this place behind. With three backpacks full of the things she thought she would miss most - her degree, her favorite sweater, a teddy bear from childhood - the three of them left the only home she had ever known. As the car pulled away, Noah held her in his lap in the backseat, gently stroking her hair and mumbling in her ear how they would start fresh, how he and Jolly would buy her whatever her heart desired, how he would take care of her. 
Jolly went above and beyond to provide her with the latest technology and ensure her privacy and security, installing encrypted messaging so her conversations remained confidential. He took thoughtful precautions, connecting Noah's collar device to her phone so she could check on his whereabouts and know that he was alright at any given moment. Jolly also linked a calendar that the three of them shared with his meetings, work hours, and even a trip back to his homeland that was scheduled six months down the road. This allowed them to coordinate schedules and know what the others were up to, promoting open communication and planning. While Noah was given free reign of her closet, he bought the most beautiful suits, lingerie, and dresses, paired with heels, jewelry and perfume-all things that he thought she’d look her best in. He wanted to pamper her with elegant attire and accessories to complement her natural beauty. Jolly also managed to order her some more stylish casual wear, the walk in closet of theirs nearly overflowing with the new department store hauls. He indulged her with a bounty of chic, comfortable everyday clothes and shoes so she would feel confident and put-together at all times.
Rosa had been kept a secret from most of the people in Jolly and Noah’s life. The only people who knew the full truth about her mysterious lineage were her two closest confidants, Maria and Oli. They had been like family to Rosa, keeping her origins confidential and protecting her from prying eyes. Whenever they came to visit, Maria would try to pull Rosa aside, clearly wanting to have an earnest discussion with her. But the timing never seemed right, and they were perpetually interrupted before Maria could reveal whatever was on her mind.
One fateful night, an opportunity finally presented itself. While Noah was out hunting with Oli, and Jolly was at a late meeting with the local magistrate Maria stopped by the house, a serious look in her gentle eyes.
“Are you alone?” Rosa was surprised to see Maria at her door, looking disheveled and anxious. She knew Maria tended to be high-strung, but something seemed off as she breezed past Rosa into the apartment without waiting for an invitation. Rosa closed the door slowly, watching Maria make herself at home on the sofa.
“For now,” she said, “I assume Jolly will be home soon.”
“Then I’ll get right to my question.” her hair was sloppily piled on top of her head, loose strands falling around her face as if she had been compulsively running her hands through it all morning. Rosa wondered what could have Maria so worked up that she would show up unannounced.
“Listen,” she said finally gathering her thoughts, “What I am asking is against the law, you have no idea how against our laws it is, but I am desperate. And I think you are the only one that’s going to be able to help me.”
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Question; is it okay to write a series with your Call of Duty Ocs? (Jade and her kids as well as your mother CoD Ocs.)
It wont be any x reader, nsfw, or sexualization since I too feel uncomfortable sexualizing someone's Ocs.
The series is called: Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare - The Next Generation of Soldiers Fighters.
Also, full credits are handed to you since I really don't like making series and not crediting the creator of the original Characters.
The series sounds good, but I want to get permission from the creator before I do it since I don't want to be disrespectful.
(Ps, hope my British English sounds good since it's not my first language <3)
Hello! I just read this today, and I'm grateful and thankful that you admire my work, but I'm afraid I must decline and say to you to not do this :(
I think I got tagged in a post today, and I saw your post of your OC's introduction and the story that involves Jade and Andrew. While I'm flattered, it appears to me that the OC bio has a lot of similiarities to my Jade Bio post, and the fact that GhostJade's kids is still in the far future and I myself haven't even written much about them, and Andrew is still written as a kid -- it's just that you're a bit ahead of me of my own characters here 😔
To add to that, I didn't remember giving permission to use my character and create stories with them to anyone except a few people I'm close to and put trust into.
And if you're indeed the one that tagged me in that one post, I saw that your present story revolves a lot around my own OC universe. While, again, I'm glad I inspire you, I would encourage you to create your own OC universe first without it orbiting around other creators' stories.
With all that being said, I'm sorry, but I can't allow you to do the story you mentioned. I kindly ask you now to please change your post to not include my characters, including Jade and Andrew. Like every person in the fandom, you're totally fine to make content with the canon characters, but Jade and her kids are mine. Sorry to disappoint 🥲
---
P.S. - If you wish to make a fic that includes my characters, please ask me first, and please, PLEASE don't use anon. I don't know you. It's like you're wearing a mask and hoodie and then ask me to trust you with my character that I've built for a long time. I need to see how you write first to make sure it's not out of character. Again, my apologies, but I hope you understand. Thank you!
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crazytrolls · 3 months
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Breek Fics
I’m You, You’re Me
When the Falls Turn Amethyst
A Twist Of Fate
Move On Up
Dance of Love
I Broke All My Bones That Day I Found You
Courting Season
💛💙💛💙💛💙💛💙💛💙💛💙💛💙
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666m4gg0tinahoodie · 2 years
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I wrote this for my book and my parents are discouraged to read it. It's like, idk, 80 ''manuscrit'' A4 pages, so around 300 pages of a book format. Even I am quite discouraged to continue knowing I'm not even at the third of it oh my Lord help-
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povlnfour · 2 months
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ CRASH LANDING (LN4)
pairing: lando norris x f!reader
summary: lando accidentally hits a stranger with his car — the internet can’t stop referring to it as a meet cute. (un)fortunately for lando, mclaren agree.
genre: comedy, fluffy
authors note: a continuation of the ending to beached! you don’t need to have read that to understand this, however it will give some insight to the mclaren matchmaker jokes <3 also in light of that, this is set a few races in the future! *oscarsgf user refers to the character in beached!
*faceclaim: keeahwah on ig (but please imagine her as you see fit!)
landonorris posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚
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tmz posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris posted tweets ੈ✩‧₊˚
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lando’s texts with y/n ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris just posted ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by carlossainz55 and 203,488 others
landonorris practicing safe driving
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user you are so unserious sir
user SOOOO IS THAT THE GIRL HE HIT BC
user no clue but she’s CUTE
oscarpiastri @/fia look here
landonorris i will literally remind your girlfriend of your murder attempts when you first met
user it’s giving meet cute
user i’d read a fic on it
yourusername you literally drove off BEFORE I WAS EVEN IN THE CAR
landonorris IT WAS AN ACCIDENT I WAS DISTRACTED
user ASSUMING THIS IS HER???
user @/user CLICKING ON HER ACCOUNT IT DEFINITELY IS
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by bestfriend, landonorris and 3,907 others
yourusername monaco recap🇲🇨 successfully didn’t get hit by too many cars!
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user AS IF LANDO HIT THE HOTTEST PERSON IVE EVER SEEN
user nah this is actually a full meet cute i’m sorry this is the shit you see in romcoms
bestfriend still can’t believe you didn’t take compensation but accepted a lunch date instead
yourusername can you blame me
user @/yourusername oh girl no one can you are so real for that
friend1 wait till everyone finds out you’re only there for another 4 days
user WHAT. i can’t have them separated already😶
user parasocial relationship with lando ended y/n is my new idol now
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[captions:
photo 1: lando paid for me to get my nails done !!!
photo 2: :D
photo 3: ur all romanticizing my life rn but this is my view in a fancy ass restaurant]
texts with your best friend ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by landonorris and 11,276 others
yourusername final days in heaven. i’ll miss so much about this place
👤 tagged bestfriend, landonorris
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user wait she doesn’t live in monaco?? she’s leaving??? just after i’ve gotten attached to her and lando???
bestfriend please come back to visit asap i cannot go too long without my y/n cuddles
landonorris seconded
user um lando sir,,, seconded the whole thing? cuddles included?
user this cannot be the end of the meet cute i refuse to
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by oscarpiastri and 286,425 others
landonorris safe to say i’ve had a pretty good break between races
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user a whole post dedicated to her with THAT caption? oh yep they’re whipped
user please tell me y’all are going to stay in contact?
user my heart is shattering already
mclaren 🧡
user MCLAREN PLEASE YOU’VE DONE IT ONCE BEFORE
texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚
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mclaren interview ੈ✩‧₊˚
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[transcript:
o: safe to say you’ve had a pretty interesting break before this race
l: hey let me remind you what happened for you over winter break!
o: okay but i didn’t literally hit my girlfriend with my car!
l: oh so you finally asked her out officially?
o: stop deflecting!
l: okay okay! yeah safe to say i had a nice time. always need a bit of a change in life!
o: so how are things going now?
l: (awkwardly) well you know how it’s… yeah
o: ah i get it. quite literally been there done that got the t shirt. but hey you did say all that when i got my big moment about mclaren—
l: no no no don’t give them any ideas! they’re listening!]
mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by 203,467 people
mclaren the boys are back! don’t forget to check out the new interview on our channel where lando and oscar talk all things hopes for the second half of the season, workouts and… girls?
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user mclaren. mclaren look at me. you know what you have to do
mclaren 👀
user when oscar asked him about y/n… i wanted to cry he looked so sad are things over between them?
oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri you’re such a gossip
oscarpiastri you love me for it
oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri you know what i’m thinking?
oscarpiastri @/oscarsgf plotting?
oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri plotting!
user what on earth is going on…
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by oscarsgf and 29,481 others
yourusername lately :)
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user you are so ! gorgeous !
user i can see why lando is obsessed
user speaking of… where is our favorite brit in the likes☹️
oscarsgf pretty girl!!!
yourusername oh?!? thank u cutie!!!
user ^ oh their plotting is in progress???
mclaren you’d look good in orange👀🧡
landonorris posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚
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an email from mclaren ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚
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mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by 287,456 people
mclaren it’s race day🫡
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user WHO IS THE GIRL
user IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS
user PLEASE TELL ME THATS Y/N
user LOOK AT HER STORIES ITS DEFINITELY HER
user SOMEONE WHO IS THERE KEEP US UPDATED PLEASE
user just posted a thread ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 106,544 others
yourusername i don’t know guys, do you think he’s cute?
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user OH MY GOD FINALLY
landonorris i will hit you with my car again
yourusername is that a challenge mr. norris?
landonorris @/yourusername oh you better run fast
yourusername @/landonorris well duh cause you don’t know how to do the speed limit
user i love them. i love them so much.
oscarsgf omg can we force the boys to do mclaren double dates
landonorris leave this comment section now
yourusername @/landonorris too late we’re already texting
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by yourusername, mclaren and 300,091 others
landonorris we are successful victims of mclarens matchmaking services
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user THEYVE DONE IT AGAINNN
user new fav couple fr
oscarpiastri oh how quickly you all forget me
user @/oscarpiastri WE COULD NEVER
user clearly i need to work for mclaren to get a cute gf
oscarpiastri @/oscarsgf is the second photo giving you flashbacks as well
oscarsgf they’re stealing our thing
yourusername thank you for posting the nice park date photo of me
landonorris well in all the others you’re mid cartwheel
mclaren glad to be of service🧡 anyone else? @/patriciooward how are you doing?
landonorris i’m gonna stop you right there
———————
a/n: WELL. hello friends. i said i wasn’t gonna post a one shot for a while, then this happened. i just hope its up to standard! i’m a little rusty in my writing considering everything!
in regards to new works, gonna be working on getting my wips out soon, and maybe popping some new smaus out at the same time as they’re easy and quick-ish for me to work on considering everything going on! do forgive me if i do some random family orientated stuff — pregnancy hormones are giving me baby fever for everything (is it still baby fever if you’re having a baby?)
let me know your thoughts in the comments/reblogs/asks — i’ve missed talking to you all sm! i have anon emojis available if people wanna chat too🤍
for the first time in a very long time,,, love, giselle xx
taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @amaranthineghost @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @dark-night-sky-99 @namgification @casperlikej @marshmummy @geniusalpaca
tags for this post: @the-untamed-soul @itsprashimusic @purplephantomwolf @jasminesacademia
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kiwisbell · 8 months
Text
Red Light [landlord!joel miller]
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The men you keep bringing home are no good for you. It's up to your landlord Joel to protect you from heartbreak. 
my masterlist!
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
rating: 18+ (mdni)
tags and warnings: AU - no outbreak/modern day, obsessive!joel, dark!joel, but also soft!joel, landlord!joel, violence, death, murder, stalking, jealousy, truly creepy behaviour, unprotected sex (lead by example; just not mine), creampie, dubious consent, reader’s serious lack of self-preservation, sexual tension, abuse of power, spanking, spitting, squirting, praise kink, degradation kink, joel is a munch, somnophilia, possessive behaviour, dirty talk, a smidgen of gaslighting, the general filth you should expect from me by now, a spoonful of genuine intimate connection™️, implied age gap, submissive reader, dominant joel, daddy kink, knives, mild torture, light anal play, voyeurism, unreliable narration, inappropriate use of a necklace, panty sniffing, ambiguous(?) ending
word count: ~ 15.8k (uh, oops!)
read on ao3!
hello, all! this fic has been tossing and turning inside the proverbial sheets of my head for a while now. when i tell you it's darker than anything i've written, i mean it, so please, please mind the tags. this story does not depict a healthy relationship; joel is a total creep and both he and reader are heavily delusional. with that said, please enjoy this (super long) one-shot!! xoxo
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PREFACE
Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires. — Macbeth, I.IV
~
THE TENANT
You're beginning to think it’s a built-in bad luck charm. A microchip implanted in your skin or a flaw you have yet to pick out. Every single one of your prospective boyfriends has disappeared off the face of the Earth since you moved into town. 
It isn't you. It's not. There is nothing wrong with you. It isn't your fault that either they decide after one date that you aren't worth seeing again, or they stand you up before the date can even begin. Your profile pictures are decent. You followed the rules meticulously: a shot of your face, a group picture to show you have friends, a selfie, a candid. You've examined them time and time again for flaws and find none that a man would care about. You're pretty. Sexy. Confident. They're just intimidated. Fuck, you're turning into your mother.
And yet—
Since moving into this apartment—this beautiful, once-in-a-lifetime deal of an apartment—your luck with dating has abruptly ended. 
It's a lovely building. A stout brownstone with wrought-iron stairs and an old, but functional, elevator, it's traditional and charming. Perfect for a single woman. 
Six months. This is your first second date in six months. David is just fine. He's handsome in a frat-initiate kind of way, with a nice smile and a good sense of dress. He doesn't ask many questions about you, and he's a little pretentious about films you don't give a shit about, but he likes you. You didn't have a horrible time on the first date: he wasn't afraid to spend his money on you at the nice restaurant. And he has a car. 
Raised as an optimist, you learned to see the good parts of a situation. David can work out. 
On the way out of the elevator, you spot your landlord Joel speaking to the concierge. You instinctively smooth down your hair and wave at him as you walk by, shrugging your purse onto your shoulder. “Hi, Joel. Hi, Sam.”
Sam the concierge waves back, but Joel puts his back to the conversation and gives you his full attention, bracing his hands on the edge of the desk. Your heart leaps and your head goes fuzzy with nerves. You barely manage to force a giddy giggle back down your throat. Relief coats your bones when Sam excuses himself to take a call.
Joel Miller’s an older guy, his tousled dark hair threaded with silver on his head and in his beard. One look at him and a person could know that he works with his hands for a living; he’s broad-shouldered, strong, with big arms and a capable air about him. He’s proven his mettle a hundred times over already with the miniscule repairs he’s made to the building. He turned it into a good place to live; he even trims the hedges outside and polishes the doorknobs when they get rusty. 
He’s wearing a green T-shirt today, which is another member of the typical summertime circulation of blue and grey T-shirts, and a pair of jeans. “Evening,” he says, his rich brown eyes sparkling. Sometimes, you can see him smile when his mouth isn’t showing it. It’s charming. Enthralling. “How’s that new lock workin’ out for you?”
You grin. He remembered. Joel installed a new deadbolt on your door last week, since the chain on the last one broke. “It’s perfect,” you tell him. “Are you in a chocolate or lemon mood this time?”
His gaze flickers down your body, taking in your yellow dress, before meeting yours again. “Lemon,” he says.
You bite the inside of your cheek. Talking to a handsome man feels like tossing your heart in the air and trying to juggle. Flirting with a handsome man is like toeing a tightrope between two mountains and forcing yourself not to look down. Your stomach swoops with the path of his eyes over your body, and you cannot convince yourself that you imagined it. “Lemon squares it is. Thank you again, Joel.”
“Just my job to keep my tenants safe,” he says, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. You can see a pair of keys in his pocket along with his cell phone. The mere sight of his belt makes your cheeks hot. Why are you looking at his belt? You’re going on a date with another man, for God’s sake. Relax.
“Helps when I like my tenants so much,” adds Joel, and you forget why you were scolding yourself in the first place. 
“Yeah?” You tilt your head to the side. “Maybe you should be baking for them, instead.”
Joel steps away from the desk, working his jaw as he seems to fight down a smile. “It’s for the best this way, believe me. Can’t cook for shit.”
“Big, strong man like you can’t work a stove?” you tease. Don’t look down. 
“I only fix ‘em.” There’s a crooked smile on his face now, and your heart beats your ribs to shrapnel. “You look real nice. Goin’ somewhere?”
That simple validation calms your nerves more effectively than a half-hour of repeating affirmations into the mirror before leaving your apartment. You give the skirt of your sundress a little swish. “A date, actually,” you say, feeling sheepish. Your landlord certainly doesn’t need to hear about your track record as of late. “He’s taking me to Sunfest, in the park.”
A minute twitch of his brow is the only reaction he gives to the news. “That so?” he says. “Lucky man.”
“More like lucky me,” you say with a small laugh, tucking your hair behind your ear. Stop talking, you plead to yourself. Too much information. Shut up, kindly excuse yourself, and leave. 
Joel shakes his head, and now is the first time you notice that his eyes haven’t once left you. It warms your body. “He’s the lucky one. Trust me.”
“Okay. I concede.” You chew on your lip for a moment and, sure enough, his gaze hones in on your mouth. The air in the lobby crackles white-hot. You clear your throat, turning your head to find David’s car parked on the street outside. “I should go. But I promise I’ll get started on those lemon squares soon.”
It’s a possibility that you only imagine Joel’s eyes flitting from the car outside back to you when you turn your head back to face him. “Do me a favour?” he says, a scrape to his deep drawl. 
“Anything, Joel.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks. “Be safe,” he says. “You have my number if anything goes wrong.”
You give him a grateful smile. “I’ll be safe, Joel. And if I’m not, you’re the first person I’ll call.”
“Good. That’s…” He trails off, still watching you, his eyes trained in their path across your face. “You’re good. Smart, beautiful, good. You deserve to have somethin’ real.”
The simple, small praises melt your bone marrow and recast it in the shape of him. The old chandelier hanging from the ceiling casts him in a soft light, stark against the hard muscles and profound depths in his eyes. He's breathtaking. You've always known it, but…
He sees something in you, too. 
David honks his horn and makes you jump out of your stupor. You walk backwards out of the lobby just to keep looking at Joel for as long as you can. “For the record,” you say, “you’re a good man, Joel.”
“Don’t be so sure, honey,” he replies, his tone playful. 
You laugh, hurrying out to David’s car as the door closes behind you. 
“This place is beautiful,” you said to Sam, the concierge working the front desk of your prospective apartment. The appropriate paperwork was in your arms, your eyes scanning every inch of the old building. Of all the places you'd seen in and around the neighbourhood, this was the most promising. You hoped to get a glimpse at a unit before you signed, though. Assuming the landlord even wanted you to live here. 
Sam smiled at you. “Lots of people just see the cracks.”
“There's so much character,” you replied, admiring the crystal chandelier. The walls were a calming, aged white, the floors genuine hardwood. The lobby was decorated with plush chairs upholstered with burnt orange fabric, the corners filled with real potted plants. 
The door opened behind you, and you turned to see a handsome stranger, dressed in a pair of dirty jeans and mud-caked shirt, wiping his forehead with his forearm. Behind you, Sam said, “This is Joel Miller. The landlord.”
“Oh!” You were flustered, floundering to stretch out your hand to shake as you introduced yourself. “I’m sorry to catch you at a bad time. This building is gorgeous. You've done a great job with it, Mr. Miller.”
The landlord did not once look at Sam, his eyes fixed solely on you as he wiped a hand on the cloth slung over his shoulder and shook your hand. His hand engulfed yours, warm and rough. The touch jolted you like an electric shock. Your hands must have been clammy and shaking with nerves, but the contact steeled you. 
The intensity of his gaze, however, made you shift on your feet. He didn't waver, didn't stray, like a man set on a mission. Nothing about him was shy. He drank in the sight of you, indulging without shame, his eyes travelling to the next destination once they'd had their fill. It made you feel stripped to the bone.
“It's nice to meet you,” he said. “Sorry for the dirt. Just finished weeding.”
You shook your head in dismissal. “You really take care of this place.”
“It's good work,” he said plainly. “Serves me well. I like gettin’ my hands dirty, fixin’ things.”
“Where were you when my sink broke every week at my old place?”
“Fixing the sinks in this one.”
You laughed. “Well, for what it's worth, the outside is beautiful, too. Not a weed in sight.”
“Pleased to hear it,” said Joel, his dark eyes glittering under the chandelier. 
“You're from Texas!” you said suddenly. Oh, God, kill me now. I sound like a stalker. 
But Joel smiled, a raspy laugh leaving his mouth. You wondered if he laughed often. He looked like a serious man. “You familiar?” 
“I was born there,” you supplied. “Left when I was young, but my dad lived there all his life.”
“Lookin’ good on you already,” he said. “It’ll be nice havin’ another one of us around.”
“Does that mean you're considering me?” you couldn't help but ask. Fuck, you wanted this apartment. 
“I've already considered,” said Joel, his eyes sweeping your body. “You're the only applicant.”
Your hands were trembling and your heart thrummed with excitement. “Oh, God, thank you!” you gasped. “Joel, thank you.”
You could swear his chest swelled a bit at your graciousness. “I can show you the unit, if you’d like. It needs some TLC, but I’m happy to help with the process as best I can. Unless you have someone to…”
You realised what he was hinting at and shook your head. “Oh, no, it’s just me. I’d love to take a look.”
You noted the slight drop of his shoulders and followed him into the elevator. A part of you was surprised to see there was no gate that closed you in; they were plain, somewhat modern elevator doors. “Fixed it last month,” Joel said, looking sideways at you. “Just in time, apparently.”
You grinned at him, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Nice to see there's no creepy operator in here.”
“Just me.” He punched the button for the third floor and rode with you to the top. 
This was the start of your new life. 
You shut the passenger’s side door and situate yourself inside David’s Lincoln. He’s dressed in a pair of black shorts and a clean Henley. “Hey, beautiful,” he says, leaning in to kiss you across the console. 
You hum, smiling against his mouth. “You clean up nice, too.”
He places a hand on your thigh and pulls away from the curb. He's a touchy person, which is perfectly fine considering how long your latest dry spell has lasted, but at least he isn't inching his way up your dress to cop a feel while he drives. 
The festival is bustling with people, tented stands, and the smell of fried dough and beer. It’s almost dinnertime, and your stomach growls. When was the last time you ate? You spent hours agonising over what to wear until you were sweating and had to shower all over again. You wish you’d snuck an apple into your purse. 
David pulls you into him as you both walk through the winding paths between vendors. “It’s a beautiful night,” you say breezily. 
David squeezes your waist. “Mmm. You’re beautiful.”
A bit too corny for your taste, but you let it slide. “Don't tell me you're allergic to powdered sugar, because I’ve been eyeing the elephant ears.”
“God, if I eat that shit, I think it’ll set me back a month at the gym,” he laughs. “Let’s get one for you, though.”
Great. Now you're the expensive date who eats while her date watches her stuff her mouth with an elephant ear. “Uh. Maybe later.” 
You stop at a jewellery vendor and spend a good while eyeing up a beautiful gold necklace and the heart-shaped pendant dangling from it. David doesn’t notice your staring and breezes by with your hand firmly in his. “Let's check out the grand stand. My buddy’s band is playing before the fireworks display.”
“Sure,” you say, turning your head to watch the necklace disappear slowly from view. 
The gigantic domed stage houses a group of musicians currently tuning up their instruments. David sidles right up to the front and releases your hand to execute an elaborate handshake with his friend, who’s fine-tuning his bass. 
“Hey, man,” greets the bass player. “Good to see you. Who’s this?”
You open your mouth to introduce yourself, stretching your hand out, but David says, “My date for tonight. Baby, this is Ray, of Uncontrolled Bleeding fame.”
The bass player shakes your hand politely. “Very nice to meet you.” 
Because it doesn’t seem to matter much to David, you decide it’s worth the time to tell Ray your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Ray. I’m excited to hear you play.”
Not that you've ever heard of a band called Uncontrolled Bleeding. Still, Ray seems nice enough, and you're on a date. You should give them a chance. 
David squeezes your waist and kisses you lightly on the temple. “You mind if I go backstage for a bit to say hi to the other guys? Won’t be long.”
What?
“Oh!” you manage to eke out over the great swooping nosedive your heart has just performed. He’s here to see his friends. He’s not on a date. “Of course. Take your time. I’ll just… walk around.”
David departs with Ray for a personal backstage tour while you bite down on your tongue and turn back in the direction of the main strip. A few vendors catch your attention, and you take your time because God knows David is taking his. A little bit of you revels in your own petty victory when, a half-hour later, Uncontrolled Bleeding begins to blare their metallic, screaming anthems across the park and you haven’t returned to the grand stand. 
You find your way back to the jewellery vendor to ponder over your favourite necklace some more, but your night gets worse when you find that it’s disappeared from the headless display mannequin. You solemnly slide your wallet back into your bag and pause when you hear your phone ringing.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?” It’s David’s voice, presumably, though it’s so loud on the other end of the line that you can barely make out his words. “I can’t… where… left?”
You plug one ear and look vaguely in the direction of the grand stand across the park. “I can’t hear you very well, David.”
“… afterparty… downtown… going… Uber home?”
You press your lips together and look down at the ground: at your pretty sandals, your new dress. Your entirely wasted potential on a guy who wanted you to find your own way home. “Yeah, David,” you say tightly. You don’t particularly care if he can hear you. “You have fun with your friends.”
“Can’t hear… talk later… okay?”
You hang up and wander back toward the vendor selling elephant ears. 
~
“Miller.”
“Hi, Joel.”
“Honey, it’s loud. Can barely hear you. Are you safe?”
“I’m safe, Joel, I promise. It’s just—Uncontrolled Bleeding.”
“What?”
“No, I mean, the band. They’re really loud. I hate to ask, and I know it’s late, but—”
“What do you need?”
“I, uh… I need a ride home. I can’t get a cab, and all the Ubers around are taken, and the busses are rerouted all the way—”
“I’m comin’ to get you. You just wait for me at the entrance, okay, baby girl?”
“Thank you, Joel.”
“You know I said you could call me for anything. I meant it.”
“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Oh! Wait—”
“What? What is it?”
“Do you want an elephant ear?”
~
Joel is white-knuckling the steering wheel when he arrives to pick you up. Despite the congestion around the festival grounds and the fact that your apartment is at least fifteen minutes away, Joel makes it to you in a mere five.
“Did you blow every red light to get here, Mr. Miller?” you ask with a playful smile as you secure your seatbelt and settle on the truck bench.
“I was in the area,” he says with a crooked smile, looking your way. “May have pushed forty a couple times, though.”
You sheepishly extend a cardboard takeout box filled with fried, powdered dough. “Will you take this as my sincere thanks, or will you expect a separate batch of lemon squares?”
Joel answers by dipping his head and taking a bite of the flattened, doughy bread. You watch every minute movement, his strong jaw working as he chews, indulging you even though he’s already done far too much to get you out of this rut. He doesn’t once break eye contact while he eats; you begin to chew subconsciously on your bottom lip.
“Ain’t bad,” he declares at last, and your shoulders deflate with a kind of relief, “but if you let me take you for some real dinner, I’ll forget about that extra batch.”
You tentatively reach for his mouth and swipe some powdered sugar from his moustache with the pad of your thumb. You feel his eyes scanning your face all the while. “Look at me, the lucky girl,” you say softly. “One date goes wrong, and there’s a strong, handsome man waiting to take me on another.”
From the very first day, Joel Miller has always taken his time when it comes to looking at you. It’s a penetrative stare that makes your skin heat up from the tips of your ears down to your chest. His eyes are so dark, pools of warm melted sugar, and you feel yourself leaning, trancelike, slow, into that cavernous gaze. Your body is not your own. It seeks the subtle warmth, the familiar scent—sawdust, coffee beans, rich, dark cologne—and the violent torrent of sensation that erupts from the contact point when he cups your cheek in one hand. 
You’re in the throes of attention, warm as a candle weeping fat waxen tears.
“Told you before,” says Joel, his thumb sweeping fondly across your chin, “you deserve somethin’ real.”
“Yeah,” you sigh happily, feeling all-too complacent under the touch of his rough palm, “maybe I do.”
Behind you, a car honks its horn, and Joel curses, pulling away from the curb. He takes you to Turner’s, a bar by campus that would be crawling with students if it weren’t for the festival. Joel comes around to the passenger’s door and opens it for you, helping you hop out with your hand enclosed in his. His palm is a steady weight on your back as you both walk inside the dim, stuffy bar. 
The back is bustling with activity—drunk folks playing pool or watching the Huskies’ football game or splitting their attention between both—but the bar itself has enough spaces open to fit the two of you. Here, the light is burnt orange, and it makes the strands of grey in his hair shimmer gold. His eyes observe his surroundings with a military precision before they flit back to you, magnetic.
“Shame to waste this dress on that asshole,” says Joel, sweeping his gaze down, back up, barely perceptible. “You’re too goddamn pretty for any of ‘em.”
You’re deliciously abuzz with the incisive way he compliments you. It feels like being punctured down to your very soul; you will never forget the shape of the stain his words leave. “Do you spy on all my dates, Joel?”
He smirks. “Don’t need to spy on ‘em, baby. They’re a bunch of obnoxious kids.”
You huff, resting your cheek against your palm. “I just don’t get it. I thought David was just fine. Then, he takes me on a date just to abandon me for his friends and tell me to find my own way home.”
Joel shakes his head, scoffing as he runs his fingers through his beard. He does that when he’s frustrated sometimes, and you wonder if his hair is soft or coarse. “Piece of shit doesn't know how good he got it.”
“You must know something I don’t,” you say mirthlessly, watching the bartender approach from the other end of the long honey-oak block. “I haven't been able to get a second date since I moved in.”
Joel is silent, eyes still firmly fixed to you, until the bartender arrives, a charming middle-aged woman with a particular Texan twang you could recognise from a mile away. “What’ll it be, Joel?” she asks, giving him a sweet dimpled smile. “Hi, honey. This old man botherin’ you?”
“Only in a nice way,” you reply, squeezing his shoulder. 
Joel hides his grin with a swipe of his fingers over his bottom lip. “Coffee for me, Rina. Drivin’ home.”
Rina’s eyes slide to you, and you ask for the same. You don't want to drink alone. She reappears moments later with two small, chipped mugs of dark roast in her hands. Setting them in front of you, she takes your food orders: a BLT for Joel and a veggie burger for yourself. It’s almost ten o’clock now, too late to eat, but your eyes droop sleepily and your stomach growls for a taste of real food. The powdered dough, shockingly, did not suffice. 
“You ever miss Texas?” Joel asks once you're halfway into your respective meals. You notice that he only digs into his sandwich when you aren't eating, and abstains briefly to watch while you take your bites. It's an exchange of energy, a steady vigil by your side, the hypnotic pull of his warm body. You cannot scoot any closer to him, but your leg brushes his where you rest your foot on his barstool. 
“I wish I remembered more of it,” you tell him. “I grew up a big city girl. Even lost my accent a year into being away. My dad would tease me about it all the time. Said I’d been gentrified.” You fondly shake your head. “Miss him like hell.”
“I can still hear it sometimes,” says Joel, tilting his head to the side, “when you get all passionate about somethin’. Like the time I installed your deadbolt and you tried to explain away your Backstreet Boys CD.”
You put your head in your hands. “Oh, God. I thought you'd forgotten.”
“Nuh-uh, baby, you ain't easy to forget. And I like when you get excited. You get this look in your eye.”
“Yeah?” You slide your foot up his ankle and bring the leg of his jeans with it. Up, down, you keep going, letting the relative darkness embolden you, his sweet little pet names and his silent adequacy enabling what is most definitely inappropriate behaviour. “Tell me about this look, Joel.”
He rests his elbow up on the bar and squares his broad shoulders to you. They eclipse all the other patrons behind him. “You've got pretty eyes,” he tells you. “First thing I noticed when I met you all those months ago. Saw how they lit up when you smiled. Heard your happiness when you told me about Texas. It was nice to be the reason you smiled, ‘n’ I just wanted to make it happen again. I couldn't say no to you. Don't know how any man ever could.”
The revelation stuns you in your seat. His expression telegraphs little save for his attentiveness, his posture locked parallel with yours, singularly focused on the way you react to him. 
You try for a joke. “And I was the only applicant.”
It crumbles, sand in your mouth. Something has shifted. Joel isn't the type to shy away from a conversation, but his gaze hasn't once shifted from your face. It feels like flames licking your cheeks, the heat of that look pushing in on both sides, inescapable. You find that you enjoy the way his attention makes you preen; you want him to look at you. 
He thinks you have pretty eyes. 
“You know that ain't the reason why,” he says, whisper-quiet and gruff amid the vague chatter in the bar. 
“Why, Joel?” you ask, spine straightening, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. As you suspected, his eyes flick down your face, lashes obscuring the precise shade of his irises. 
His Adam’s apple dips. “‘Cause I like you,” he says, the feeling of it like the slide of suede down your spine, “and I wanna keep you safe.”
You shrug slightly, giving him a smile. “I feel pretty safe.”
Joel’s hand drops to the bar top and his fingertips brush yours. The touch jolts your sleepy mind awake. “You're too good for every single one of those assholes you bring around. You know that, right?”
“I’m beginning to understand.” 
“You deserve someone who's gonna be good to you. Give you all the attention you need. Make you… happy.”
You swallow thickly, the candle flame pressing in, sucking the oxygen from your lungs. “Thank you, Joel.”
His fingers begin to creep up every ridge of your knuckles, slowly turning over your palm so it faces the ceiling. The rough pad of his thumb traces the long lifeline inside. 
“Repeat it.”
His eyes lift to yours, and for a moment, there’s something in them that ignites an instinct inside you to flee. There's danger in those eyes: the careful, measured restraint of a man who knows more anger than he lets show. A flicker, brief but incandescent, passes through your head, an electrical current. 
He’s the reason you never had a second date. 
It disappears the instant it comes, the Paterian glimpse of an idea in its entirety fleeing for the horizon, and the instinct recedes in favour of the warm, melting sensation his fingers disseminate through your bones. 
“I deserve someone who will be good to me,” you repeat, like a mantra. “I deserve someone who’s going to make me happy, and keep me safe.”
“That's right,” says Joel, brushing his thumb along the veins in your wrist. You feel the shiver, but you're locked to him, your eyes unable to take in any information apart from the way he feels, looks, smells. “You're a good girl, baby.”
Your lashes flutter and a sweeping rush of pressure descends on your core at the way those words sound on his tongue. You picture him directing you to your knees and calling you a good girl while you take his big cock between your lips, imagine the way he would hiss through his teeth, good fuckin’ girl, that’s it, baby girl, while he fucks you from behind, merciless. Hands and tongues and limbs would mould into one another, amalgamate, becoming indistinguishable. 
He would be good to you. You know it. He’s always been good to you. 
“Joel?” 
“Hmm.” Fingers still make idle patterns on your forearm. 
“I think you should take a look at my sink when you get a chance. It might be broken.”
No amount of coy suggestion could make him ignorant to your desire for closeness. You can feel your body screaming for it, grasping at him with buffed claws. Joel smirks, looking down at your foot making a path up and down his ankle. 
“I’ll take a look tomorrow.”
~
It’s two o’clock in the morning when a shuffling outside your bedroom door guides you out of a decent sleep. In total silence, the most minute noises can be deafening. But it sounds, to your sleep-addled brain, like the hasty retreat of footsteps. 
You blink awake, shifting onto your other side to peer above the darkness of your doorway. Through the bleary haze in your eyes, you notice a tiny red light in the upper corner of the room.  
You squint, rubbing your eyes furiously to pry them open wide, but your vision is the static grain of an old television, and your eyes refuse to adjust. Instead, you grumble, pulling your comforter over your head, and go back to sleep. 
You’ll tell Joel tomorrow.
THE LANDLORD
He cannot wait until the morning.
The nighttime, he discovered long ago, is a friend. It’s the gentle descent of darkness, the horizontal fall of the golden-hour sunlight scanning the entirety of the apartment before it at last succumbs to silent, tar-black night. Occasionally, a car will pass below, or the honk of a horn will tear jaggedly through the quiet, but most times, Joel can sink comfortably into the dark and assume his post.
Six months ago, he showed some restraint. 
Of course, the connection was instantaneous—the pretty girl standing in his foyer with a radiant smile on her face, drinking in the chipped paint and ancient railings and furniture imprinted with years of use, arrested all movement of his heart. You wore a white dress and a pair of strappy sandals, not suited whatsoever for walking the city but perfectly tailored to make an impression. You arrived punctually, all smiles and handshakes and Southern politeness despite your insistence that you'd left it all behind. You shone. And when Joel slid his rough, work-worn hand into yours, dipping his gaze to watch the way he dwarfed your fingers, he felt a tremor roll gently from your body to his, thunder over a mountain. He wanted to chase the next lightning strike. 
It began leisurely, like a hobby, something he could go to when life got a little much. He watched you come home, examining the way your shoulders rounded slightly when you were upset and the way you wiggled your fingers in a wave to those passing by when you were happy. He watched, typically from the garden out front, as you pranced about your balcony on cool mornings to the electronic croonings of Britney Spears, curled up in a chair with a blanket over your legs and a coffee mug warming your hands, or watered your thriving plants from where they hung in the direct morning sunlight. Your day-to-day became his day-to-day. 
And then, he was doing more than merely watching. He was following. 
Your favourite coffee place by the apartment building, just a block away. He lingered far behind that first morning, his fingers twitching in your direction before the rest of his body steered him. The neighbourhood wasn't so great back then, prone to muggings and the like. He wanted to keep you safe. That was all.
You ordered something cold, too sweet for his tastes, and sat for a while as you worked. The barista spent the rest of your time there eyeing you up whenever he could. Joel scoffed. He wouldn't know what the fuck to do with you. Just a goddamn kid. 
He followed you to work and back, on those rare days he wasn't occupied maintaining the grounds. You sat in a corner cubicle with a decent amount of sunlight and typed away on your laptop all day. Joel monitored the company’s publications just so he could have a glimpse of the way you wrote; he wasn't interested in makeup, but he bought a subscription to Viva because he wanted to trace his fingers over your name in those small italic letters. MANAGING EDITOR. 
Your writing is clean, efficient, and smooth. It reads like velvet. He keeps a pile of magazines and newsletters tucked in the back of his bookshelf. For the August edition, they printed your interview with a local prizewinning novelist; you beamed in the picture, photographed in your favourite coffee shop, so happy and so generous, sharing your talent with others. 
He was so fucking proud. 
Five months ago, he watched you bring a date home for the first time. 
It blindsided him. He could not prepare, plan, or sabotage. He could not do a thing as you guided the man—a fucking kid with a too-big ego, grinning smugly for his imminent conquest—inside the elevator. Joel could only watch helplessly, wiping his brow from his precarious place on the ladder, as you walked past him with no more than a soft, sweet smile. He never forgot the painful imprint of that smile on his eyelids. It still burns his eyes late at night, when he stays awake inside his office, monitoring his dual screens. He will pinch the bridge of his nose and close his eyes just to replay the memory of that look. 
The kid left the next morning, before you woke. He never contacted you again. You trudged into the lobby that day, a weariness in your eyes that did not match the vibrant colour of your dress. You spoke idly to another woman in the elevator about your broken thermostat, hugging yourself to keep warm. 
It was working perfectly a few hours later, and there was a bouquet of roses waiting for you at the concierge’s desk. Fiddling with the red ribbon, tears welling in your eyes, you asked who the admirer was. Sam shrugged his shoulders, but when you turned to look out the front windows, you saw Joel tending to the red roses in the garden bed. 
It earned him the first taste of your baking. Biting into one of those moist, warm brownies felt like melting a little piece of you down and moulding it into the shape of his mouth. It felt like taking a piece of the girl he’d coveted for weeks and rolling it over his tongue, keeping it. Swallowing it down. There it rested inside his stomach until the next time he did you right. 
He wanted to tell you no. To insist that he would do anything to make you feel good even if you wanted nothing to do with him. To make it clear that he did everything for you, not for some feeble professional relationship between a landlord and his tenant. He breathed you. He needed you. 
So, four months ago, he began to watch you through the cameras.
They’re small, discreet, tucked into holes in the wall that have been spackled over, repainted, re-sanded. He ran the wiring while you were at work, listening to your CDs on loop to get a better sense of the earworms you hummed on your way out the door every morning. One in the living room, one by the entrance, and one in the bedroom. 
He could keep you safe this way. This way, he would know if those men you brought you home were treating you right—fucking you like you deserved. 
You were so goddamn pretty when you came. For months Joel had sat in his office, slicked-up cock in his hand, jerking himself hard and fast to the pictures of you in Viva. For months he’d spilled over his fingers, on his belly, on the glossy pages of the magazines. The heady, cloying scent of his own sweat and cum stuck to his nostrils. It wasn’t enough. He could imagine wrenching open your tight little pussy all he wanted—the slow, heavy drag of his cock between your hot, wet walls and the sweet noises he’d steal from your tongue—but it wasn’t the satisfaction he needed. 
Joel needed you. Your body, your smile, your voice. He needed to wrap you tight around every vein, a tourniquet, squeezing until all feeling was lost.
You would be his, in time. He just needed to make it so.
The first time he watched you pleasure yourself, rain pattered gently against the window panes and thunder echoed in the distance. A couple grids had already lost power, and Joel had a backup generator if the apartment was next, but you did not seem to mind one bit that the storm drew closer. You clicked off the television, retired to the confines of your bed and its soft white linens, and slipped your hand beneath your flimsy shorts. Joel sat upright, his back creaking in protest, his knuckles white around the edge of his desk as he watched, unblinking, the way your fingers gently circled your clit. 
He didn't touch his cock once that night, no matter how deeply his own need tugged at him. He couldn't look away from the camera feed for fear that he may miss the moment you reached your orgasm. 
When it arrived, it was delicious to watch. Your back arched, your lips parted, and your eyes fluttered shut, fingers rapidly rubbing your slick pussy as you seized under your own ministrations and slowly settled, melting into the mattress. He needed to see more. He needed to be there. 
You were a chiaroscuro of savoury, sultry magnetism and the ichor of the morning sunlight. You were kind and thoughtful. You were gentle, patient, attentive. You were one hell of a baker. You were so fucking sexy it made his tongue prickle with the prospective taste, the anticipation of touching your soft skin engulfing any sense. Reason had no place in Joel Miller’s mind when it came to the sweet girl upstairs. 
Three months ago, you had recovered from the evident betrayal inherent in expecting more from your date than a one-night stand. The next man was older, a partner at a law firm, and took you to dinner at a nice restaurant. He asked questions about you and reciprocated your enthusiasm for good cuisine. He was kind and treated you well. But an incendiary rage ignited in Joel at the sight of the bastard’s hand on your lower back. Another man was touching you. Another man was getting close to you, making you smile, whispering in your ear. Another man was attempting to claim what was rightfully his. 
Joel followed your date home that night instead. He lived in a high-rise downtown, the sort of building that had a doorman and a valet. 
Joel followed him down to the underground lot with a lead pipe in hand. 
“‘scuse me.”
He shut his car door and turned around, giving Joel a polite smile. “What can I do for you?”
A calculated sheepish scratch on the back of his head. “Just… ah, shit, I don’t mean to bother, but my engine isn't turnin' over and my phone died. Mind if I used yours?”
He patted his pockets for his cell and gave it enthusiastically. Joel did not take the phone. He used the proximity to pull the man close and bring the pipe down across his head. 
Blood bloomed, pretty and potent and rich as the roses he planted for you. The body made little noise, the skull shattered upon impact, the legs crumpling. It could never have been much of a man, going down so fucking quick. Should've put up a fight. 
The man must not have liked you very much to let himself die. Joel, whose eyelids were tattooed with your radiant smile, would have crawled his way back out of a certain grave. Joel loved you. You belonged to him. This was a necessary consequence. 
The pipe was dented by the time he was finished. Joel sank to his knees once the body fell, bringing it down again and again, the meticulous arc of the rusted metal uniquely stirring. It felt so fucking good, battering the skull to pieces, blood and brain and bone fragments accumulating on the ground and the pipe and his face. It felt good knowing he had kept another man from betraying you, hurting you, fucking you only to leave in a blur. He was being altruistic. He was becoming a good man for you. 
Joel, kneeling in the pool of warm blood until his jeans were soaked crimson, rubbed his hand down his face and smeared the blood across it. Chest heaving, he let the grin stretch his face. 
He had found his calling. 
Two months ago, he slipped inside your apartment while you were asleep.
You had a rough day. Your boss insisted the company could not afford to give you a raise despite skyrocketing share prices and all the fucking work you’d done for them. The rain started just before you left the building, holding back tears, and a car splashed icy, muddy water on you during your walk home. Salt in the wound. You were sniffling as you let yourself into the apartment, your hands trembling with the effort of shouldering your bag and your misery. Joel approached you from behind and lifted the bag onto his shoulder. 
“Hi, Joel.” Sad and soft and still so polite despite it all. 
“Hey.” He opened every door for you on the way to the elevator and rode it up with you for good measure. “Wanna talk about it?”
You just shook your head and sidled up next to him, your cheek resting on his shoulder. He held his breath, overcome with the sensation that if he moved an inch, the spell would break, and the comfort you sought from him would slip between your fingers. Your arm brushed his, your dewy lashes fluttering as you finally let yourself relax. Joel inhaled, and the scent of you cleaved him down the middle: rain and perfume. 
“Would you give me a raise?”
He looked down at you and smiled. “For a batch of those cupcakes, I’d give you whatever you like.”
It was a half-truth. He’d give you whatever you wanted, cupcakes or no. The sound of your laughter dripped into his bloodstream, saline. It cleansed him of the wrongs he'd committed. He was doing what needed to be done. The world had to realise it turned for you, and then all would be right. 
Hours later, when the sun finally dipped below the horizon, shrouded by distant skyscrapers, he sneaked his way inside. His master key made easy work of the lock, but he had to pull the chain lock off with a pair of pliers because his hands could not reach between the gap. He made clinical work of it and stepped inside. 
There was a chair in the corner of your bedroom for days you felt like reading by the window. Joel lowered himself into it and began his vigil. 
It was a science to study the way you slept. He began to learn the patterns of your breathing, the minute movements of your limbs and how they translated to the moods of your dreaming. The amount of times you turned around, groaned, or hummed correlated directly to the sort of day you'd had. He began to map your tells in his head, drawing them out, formulating blueprints of the simple things that made you. 
To Joel, it was like connecting a red string between thumb tacks, like pouring the varnish over a finished painting, sealing a promise, closing an envelope. He enjoyed the satisfactory slotting of each puzzle piece into place, creating your image, finally knowing you.
By then, he’d caught the virus. He’d let himself get close, and now he was infected with it—that insatiable need to be near, to watch, to admire from mere feet away. 
He continued to acquaint himself over the weeks with your sleeping self to supplement the time he could not spend with you while you were awake. On more than one occasion, he got careless, letting himself succumb to sleep in that corner chair, joining you in the dream world. In those dreams, you were wrapped up in his body, warm and soft and tight, and he was taking. He was behind you, on top of you, beneath you, forcing you to look in the mirror as he spread you open on his cock and wrapped his fingers around your throat. In those dreams, your eyes rolled back and your lips moulded to the shape of Joel, yes, oh my God, and he'd whisper back to you—my sweet girl, my good fuckin’ girl, all mine. 
And you were. You were his. 
Tonight, he followed you to the festival. 
He watched you make a beeline for the necklace you wanted only to pout when you saw it had disappeared. He watched your face fall as David’s rejection sank bone-deep. He reeled in his own gnawing rage, pushing deep down that urge to storm right in and rip out the asshole’s throat with his goddamn teeth, and waited until you called him. 
He knew you would. You trusted him. You needed him. You needed a strong, capable man to take care of you the way you deserved. So he waited inside his truck by the phone, happy to at last hear your sweet voice on the other end of the line. 
Thank you, Joel. 
He tucked those words under his ribs, letting them flower and spread. Those words gave him purpose, made him buzz with erratic energy, validated all his actions. He was doing everything right. 
Your dress was so fucking pretty. Jesus, he wanted to slip his hands under the hem, finger the waistband of those pink panties he knew you were wearing, and bunch the fabric up around your hips as he stuffed you full of his dick. Fuck, he would fill you up with his cum and tuck your panties back over your abused pussy, keeping all of him safe inside. You’d be so happy. You’d get drunk off his cock, begging for it, crying for it. He’d give you everything. 
You do feel safe with him. You said it yourself. 
Now, leaning against the doorway in your bedroom, Joel turns the heart-shaped pendant over and over in his palm, rubbing his thumb over the smooth gold surface. It’s cool and quaint and will kiss your skin beautifully. But he needs to wait for the right time. He needs to make sure you’re ready. 
The sense memory of your fingers on his skin, gracious and gentle, the way you always are, is pushing at the edges of his control. 
There's no one like you. He’s never been more certain of anything. 
You're so goddamn sweet in those tiny silk pyjamas, your body curled up on the bed and your leg slung over a large pillow. You may feel cold and lonely at night, but that's only for now. He won't let you feel alone much longer; his body calls to you, singing your name. He has only so much restraint, and he's been waiting for six months. 
Your lips are slightly parted, your face smooth and serene under the spell of sleep. You're the reason he fixes what's broken. The world needs to be better for you. It needs to be safe and bright and perfect. 
He planted tulips today. You’ll appreciate them, he thinks. He wants you to wake up to vibrant colours every morning and go to sleep knowing that he thinks about you. 
You shift slightly in your sleep, a soft moan leaving your mouth as you hug the pillow closer. Joel straightens in the doorway, wondering if your mind can sense him nearby. He doesn't know what he would do with himself if you were dreaming about him. His eyes move from your pretty face down your chest, barely concealed by the tiny top you're wearing, to find the apex of your thighs, temptingly spread on the mattress. 
He won't. He can't. You’ll never trust him if he loses himself to desire. Joel grits his teeth, his cock achingly hard in his jeans, and unbuckles his belt as silently as he can. He pulls out his dick and squeezes himself at the base, staving off what he knows will be a too-fast orgasm. You move again, your body stretching out on the bed. Joel spits into his palm and begins to stroke his cock. 
He can see a sliver of your waist where your shirt rides up, half of your ass where your leg is slung over the pillow, and your tits smushed together just over the hem of that scrap of a top. You're all of his fucking fantasies rolled into one. Joel breathes hard through his nostrils, his fist tight around the tip of his cock. 
He wants to shuck down those little shorts and put his face in your pretty pussy. He wants to grab your hips and guide his cock inside you. He wants to slide into your addictive cunt until you forget your name. Until you forget every name but his. Your soul will be stained with him. His has never forgotten your shape.
God, your tight pussy would feel so fucking good around his cock. He jerks himself roughly, bracing his hand against the doorframe when a little whimper leaves your mouth. Fuck, he mouths, gritting his teeth so hard that his jaw begins to ache. He fucks his own fist, sloppy and unrefined, eyes fixed to your waiting pussy between creamy-soft thighs. His cock dwarfs your slit, eager to spread you open—he’ll fix so nicely once he gets you ready. 
Joel feels his stomach tighten, his balls pulling up, his jaw taut as he brings himself to a high over your body the way he has so many times. He switches so he can jerk off into the hand around which his gift to you is coiled, spilling his cum all over his fingers and the necklace as he bites into the heel of his palm. His spine decompresses and his cock slowly softens in his hand, the tension briefly relieved. His fist gradually loosens around the cum-slick necklace; the heart has imprinted its shape into his palm. 
You stir, turning over in your bed, and Joel hastily departs, tucking his cock back into his jeans. He has enjoyed this brief interlude, but he has work to do. 
Besides, he’ll see you in a few hours. He knows damn well the sink works just fine, but he’ll take any excuse to see you again. And it seems you’ll do the same. 
~
Joel keeps him in a spare apartment in the building, one whose walls have been padded for soundproofing. 
Joel’s sleeves are rolled to his elbows and he's occupying the chair across from David, who's taking his sweet fuckin’ time waking up. Joel’s been pacing for a half-hour, rubbing his fingers over his bottom lip, contemplative, but the bastard won't move. 
So Joel takes a seat, grabs a fistful of the kid’s hair, and yanks it forcefully so he’s staring him right in the face. 
One eye is already blackened—Joel got a little carried away. The sedative worked perfectly, but David has a punchable face. It took all he had not to keep going. 
“Mornin’, sunshine,” says Joel as the kid slowly blinks awake, bleary and unfocused. “Eyes on me, now. Don't want you slippin’ away again.”
David only stares for a moment, gears grinding gently to life in his brain Once that animal instinct kicks in, the kid starts writhing against his restraints, bucking hard in Joel’s unrelenting grip. It's useless, of course. He’s tied by the wrists and ankles. Helpless. 
Good. 
“What—why the fuck… let me fucking go, man, please,” groans the kid. 
“You made a mistake, David,” says Joel. “Think I’m gonna forget about that?”
David whimpers, flexing his hands subconsciously as pain undoubtedly prickles his scalp. Joel hasn't let go of his hair. “Please just let me go, man. I swear I didn't do anything. If you want money, I’ve got money.”
Joel smirks, a scoff slipping out. This is rich. The delectable flame licks up his throat again, indistinguishable from the pleasure of a good meal, a good fuck. It's craving. It’s darkness. He sinks deeper. 
“You think it's manly to leave your date for your friends and leave her to find a way home herself? You think it's funny to treat her like a little toy and then leave her when you're done?” Joel sneers. “You didn't even call her back, David.”
He whines out another please, his ankles ineffectually kicking out. “I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Just let me go. Fuck, it hurts.”
“You don't know,” says Joel, repeating it, slow and savoury, rolling it around in his mouth. “You wanna know the most insulting part, David? You don't even care. You made her upset, and you didn't get on your goddamn knees to beg her forgiveness. You didn't do everything in your fuckin’ power to get her back.” Joel brings the knife from his pocket and idly pushes the tip into David’s cheek. “You think she ain't worth that, David? Tell me the truth, now.”
David shrieks, hysterical, the terror and pain so fucking delicious that Joel gulps it down and yet still wants. 
“Are you fucking kidding me? No bitch is fucking worth it. She was cute, but that's it, I swear. I didn't know she had a boyfriend. I wouldn't have—”
The knife digs, gouges, splitting skin and prodding muscle. Joel can feel the edge of the blade slot between the kid’s teeth. He howls, screaming for help to nobody that can help, not quite gone enough yet to realise his utter hopelessness. Joel will have to rectify that.
“Oh, I ain't her boyfriend yet,” Joel says calmly. “But I am hers, way she's mine. And you hurt what's mine. I can’t forget that.”
The knife retreats to admire its handiwork. The cheek is split, the edges jagged, spitting blood. The kid’s tears slip down his face and dip into the wound, salty enough to hurt. He screams and he cries and it’s beginning to get on Joel’s nerves.
“Please stop,” he cries, watching his assailant rear back and grip the knife tight, like an ice pick. “Please… fuck, please—!”
He’s getting real sick of that word. Please. A mere please can’t excuse the look he put on your face last night. A please will not absolve him of the cardinal sin. 
No one—no one—makes you frown. 
Joel sinks the knife into David’s knee, using both hands to drive it to the hilt. The kid’s face is ashen, white and grey as clouds rolling in, and his frail screams begin to peter out; he’s losing consciousness. Joel won’t have that—not until he’s finished.
“Stop whinin’, David. A real man falls in front of his woman and makes things right. A real man fixes what's broken. And a real man”—he twists the knife, gorging, glutting on the feeling of making amends on your behalf—“does everything in his power to show her he loves her.” 
“Please…” The final, feeble attempt of a doomed man to return from the cliff’s edge. 
Joel stands, adjusting his grip on the kid’s hair, and brings his knife just beneath his chin. When he drives it upward, he can see the shimmer of the blade through David’s slack, open mouth. 
“I told you to stop whinin’.” 
~
He’s in your bedroom again. 
He felt the need calling to him, vibrating with a particular intensity he could not ignore. He rarely comes to see you twice in one night, but now that he's here, he knows it was the only way to settle his nerves. 
You're asleep, lips parted against your pillow and a piece of hair fluttering in front of your face with every exhale. Joel approaches your bedside and tucks it safely behind your ear. You don't wake, but you hum sleepily, hugging your pillow closer. Joel smiles, satisfaction sinking deep and assured into his core. He's done right by you. You’ll go happily to him. Moth to a gemlike flame. 
He wanders around the edge of the bed, gaze lazily indulging in your body as he goes. His cock twitches again with a need he cannot yet meet, the desire to move your panties aside and fill you with him. He does not. He kneels at your bedside, closest to where your legs have scissored apart beneath your sheets. The temptingly sweet call of that warm place between your thighs has Joel shifting your comforter aside and ghosting his fingers across the soft skin of your calf. 
Your breathing deepens slightly, like you're sucking in a long mouthful of air, and then you settle. It's the only indication you give that you can feel his presence. And then it’s gone, and he’s hooking his fingers in the waistband of your pretty panties and bestowing upon himself what he's only seen through screens for months. 
You're spread open and glistening, an indication of some preceding dream or fantasy playing out in that keen, busy mind. Your body is wholly pliant, so soft and glowing in the faint silvery light streaming in from the window, and it would be so easy to—
No. He will not taste you. If he does, he won’t stop. You need to trust him. There is blood on his hands that hasn’t yet washed clean, and he will not imprint those rust-red fingerprints on your body. You’re his world—what kind of man willingly imparts such pain onto a world he loves?
Some infinitesimal fractal lodged in Joel’s head obliged him to return to you tonight, to cleanse himself of the events that transpired under the illicit cover of night. The very sight of you reminds him what he’s doing this for. He crushes his nose into the wet spot that darkens your panties and inhales deeply, acquiring some sense of what you will taste like. The smell makes his head go fuzzy, intoxicated, tang and sweetness and impending gratification. In your sleep, you sigh, melting against the mattress.
Joel brings your panties back up over your pussy and thinks, Tomorrow. 
THE TENANT
You're miserable when Joel knocks on your door the next day. 
“He hasn't called me,” you tell him, letting yourself stew, sulking from the feeling of yet another man deciding you weren’t worth a follow-up phone call. “Am I repulsive? Am I a total freak? Is it something in my perfume?”
Joel looks down at you, lips parted as if on the precipice of a response, sweeping his gaze up and down your body. You’re wearing a simple sweater and skirt, but fuck, he can make you feel naked. His gaze penetrates deeper than flesh. It’s only then you realise he’s holding coffee. 
Two cups of coffee. 
“Oh, Joel,” you sigh, licking your bottom lip. “How did you know?”
“Lucky guess,” he says with a crooked smile, his voice a bit raspy, as if caught off-guard. He hands you your favourite drink—caramel macchiato, double espresso—from your favourite place down the block, and you could kiss him with how good it feels to hold the cool, condensation-slick cup in your hands. Your entire body deflates with the first sip. 
“You’re my hero,” you tell him. “I mean it.”
Joel shakes his head fondly. “You got a funny sense of heroics.”
“They taste exactly like this,” you say playfully, tracing the rim of the plastic cup. “Thank you, Joel.”
He swipes his thumb across your chin. “It’s only coffee, baby.”
Since last night, something is inexplicably different. A new, once-forbidden boundary has been crossed. It may be technically inappropriate for your landlord to bring you coffee, touch you so intimately, call you baby. But it makes you feel like warm melting honey, and who is to say a feeling like that is wrong?
He’s wearing a blue T-shirt today. His hair is tousled like he slept on it, and your fingers tingle with the anticipatory sensation of how it would feel to take fistfuls of his locks in your hands. He’s stunning. And you catch yourself staring too late, tearing your gaze away the way one retracts their hand after burning it on the stovetop. Your heart skittering, you direct Joel to the sink and plan some excuse in your head for why it has miraculously fixed itself overnight. 
But he doesn’t even spare a glance toward any of your appliances. He’s only looking at you. 
“I got somethin’ else,” he says, almost shy, reaching into his pocket for a tiny box. 
He grimaces when your eyes, wide and obviously panicked, meet his. “Jesus, I didn’t really think about how this looks. I’m not… proposin’, I swear.”
You both release a nervous laugh, but you cannot deny that your nerves are still fluttering at the sight of that simple suede box in his big hands.
He opens the lid and you gasp. It’s your necklace—the very same heart-shaped pendant you had been eyeing up at the festival. It’s shiny and polished and precisely, undeniably, the same one. “Oh my God,” you whisper, gently sliding your finger over the cool golden pendant. “It’s beautiful. Joel, how did you…”
“Turn around,” he says softly, the gentle direction guiding you better than any hand could. You obey, and Joel steps forward until his hard chest is flush to your back. He’s warm and sure and smells so good—cologne and coffee and mint and something potent, like iron—and all your questions fizzle to sparks in the air. You can no longer grasp for them. You reach out and you only find him.
His touch is careful. The heart-shaped pendant settles against your breastbone and shimmers in the afternoon light. Your chest briefly shimmers with the thought that you were made to wear this necklace. His large, rough hands ghost across the back of your neck as he secures the clasp, and you shiver. A single knuckle trails slowly down your spine, bumping every vertebrae on the way. 
“It ain't your perfume.” His deep, grumbling voice is equivalent to the scratch of his beard against your temple as his jaw moves with each word. “And you're nothin’ close to repulsive. Look in that mirror and tell me what you see.”
There is a mirror, a full-length one by the entrance to your apartment, and it's surreal to watch your own body turn to face it, to watch yourself defer entirely to the man behind you. It feels nice to just let him steer you every which way. 
“I see you,” you tell him, your hand lifting to the pendant on your throat. “And this.”
Joel clicks his tongue, his nose sliding up your temple. “What else do you see?”
You watch your lashes flutter, your head listing slightly to the side. “I see myself.”
“Hmm.” It’s a sound of approval, his palm now sliding around your waist and his arm banding across your body. He presses his hand to your hip bone and pulls you back against him. “Such a beautiful girl in that mirror. Ain't that right?”
“Joel, I…” You can feel his swelling erection prodding your ass and your head feels hazy with a heady, lustful desire you can no longer ignore or dismiss. “I don't think we should be…”
“No?” His mouth curves against your temple and you shiver at the coarse scratch of his moustache on your skin. It feels deliberate, premeditated. “I won’t tell a soul,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking your hip right where the hem of your sweater begins to inch upward. You can see a strip of your own bare stomach in the mirror. He’s making your eyes droop, your lashes flutter, your body light up from one nerve ending to the next, a closed circuit.
Oh, God. His touch is measured, gentle yet barely restrained. It is dipping a finger into the water just as it nears its boiling point. Months of staring and dreaming and retreating to your bed to touch yourself to thoughts of someone you cannot touch have led you here: his necklace, his gift to you, sitting prettily on your throat, his capable hands moulding you slowly to the shape of him. He’s touching you. 
“You like me?” His voice rubs hard on your ears, sanding you down, smoothing the rough edges. He lets you linger on the precipice, a firm grip on your hand, letting you make the choice: to let go, or to reel yourself in. 
“I like you,” you whisper, snapping the tether and plummeting to the warm, wet earth below.
You watch Joel’s eyes close in the mirror, something like a prayer falling from his lips. It does not take the shape of words—it is gruff and yet soft, hardly loud enough to discern over the ringing in your ears—but it’s so reverent that you can picture yourself falling to your knees at the sound of it. 
His hand skims up your waist until he finds your throat, gently pinching your jaw so he can direct the turn of your head. You go easily, tilting your gaze back to rest your temple on his shoulder, as his other hand slides up from your hip to your ribs, grazing the underside of your breast. “You like me enough to touch you like this?” 
You gasp, finding an anchor in the deep brown—nearly black, now—of his eyes. They’re warm  but they’re dangerous; once you look, the cage door slides shut, and you’re trapped. 
This must be one of your many dreams.
“Yes, Joel.”
“Mmm.” He smirks, teasing his tongue across his plush bottom lip. You watch the movement and feel yourself tightening, want want want a chorus in your ears. “You wanna kiss me, baby girl?”
Silently, you nod, your fingers gently sliding through his silky locks while your other hand seeks the strong balancing force of his shoulder. His smile sobers to a deep, stunning severity, and you cannot think to let it frighten you when you’re already slanting your mouth over his. 
It starts slowly. His mouth is soft, his hands deftly returning the fervour with which you hold him, cupping the back of your neck with his other hand warming your ribs. A small gasp escapes you, and a rumble of satisfaction passes from his chest through yours, and it flips an ineffable switch inside him. 
Joel turns you in his arms, his chest pressed to yours, his hand shooting out to brace against the wall as he walks you back toward it. Sufficiently cornered, you let your body melt into him, his palm now warming your lower back, his tongue feverishly seeking the seam of your lips. You let him pry you open, tasting the coffee and mint on his breath and inhaling the rich scent of him, sticking it with greedy hands to the walls of your brain. You’ll never tire of him, of this. 
He kisses you like a glutton seeking more fulfilment, like an aesthete seeking that exhilarating, fleeting moment in time, desperate and unwavering and famished. Tongues slide together, hands grope and wander, fabrics shift. You can feel your sweater lifting at the same time your fingers finally find the hem of his T-shirt, but he beats you to the chase. You’re dizzy by the time he breaks away to remove your shirt, but you dutifully lift your arms to help him. 
You seek his mouth again to resume the kiss, but Joel is decidedly feeling pious. He kisses his way down your throat, the necklace dangling from it, your sternum, your belly, sinking to his knees as he goes along. His hands are firm on your hips, squeezing, keeping you in place, while his mouth draws a map of you, eliciting the honeyed sensation of warm water dripping down your body.
“Oh, God,” you whisper, your head knocking back against the wall. It's so much. You've never been the object of attention quite like this, the marble statue at which the devout kneel, obsessive in their worship. You've never had a man fall to his knees to put his mouth all over you. 
Has he wanted you as long as you’ve pined for him? 
Joel grunts, his lips dragging open-mouthed kisses from one hip to another, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your skirt and yanking it down. You yelp, grasping his shoulders. 
Joel only growls into your skin, his hands dropping to your ass and kneading you while he continues down past your hips. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he grumbles. “So goddamn pretty. Don’t know how I waited this fuckin’ long. Jesus, baby girl, you're perfect. Goddamn perfect.”
His ramblings are poison. Every word infects, squeezing out your healthy cells, replacing them with the delicious scrape of fire against the ceiling of a room. The scratch of his beard. The sweet nurturing sound of his voice. The cared-for sensation of being kissed and touched and spoken to like you're someone worth a second date. Like you're worth the price of all the world and a couple stars, too. 
And so the words slip out, shy and whisper-quiet and your cheeks burning hot enough to blister. 
“Please, Daddy…”
Joel’s hands tighten on your body, a fractional movement that kicks up the frantic beating of your heart. He tilts his head back to gaze up into your eyes and you feel more naked with that single stare than ever before. 
“That what you need, sweet thing?” he says, pressing his lips to your inner thigh. “You need Daddy to make you feel good?”
“Mhm,” you whine, the pitch of your voice pathetic and needy. You watch him crush his nose into your inner thigh, nipping at your sensitive flesh, and his name leaves your mouth in a sob. 
“‘m gonna need words,” he commands, biting you again in reproach. “Talk to me, baby girl. Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to make me come,” you plead, grasping his soft greying hair in your fingers. “Please.”
“You gonna call me what you wanna call me?” he prompts, smacking your thigh. “C’mon, baby, lemme hear it.”
“Daddy!” you cry out, your hand tightening in his locks. “Fuck, Daddy, please make me come.”
Joel growls, bringing your soaked panties down your legs. Your knees nearly knock together, but he’s shouldering his way between them, bringing one up onto his wide shoulder. You're spread open like this, bared plainly for your landlord to feast upon at his will. The sight of his lips parted, waiting and ready to take your pussy into his mouth, has you trembling. 
He gives a slow, experimental lick, sliding the flat of his tongue through your wet slit. You shudder, your head lolling against the wall. One teasing drag of his tongue and you’re butter, humming and whimpering for more, Daddy, please as he takes his fucking time tasting what you have to offer. 
“Goddamn sweet,” he grumbles, his blunt nails digging crescent moons into the flesh of your ass, pulling your body flush to him. “Waited so fuckin’ long for this.” You watch the fire ignite from red- to blue-hot in Joel’s eyes, his gaze shuttering as he loses himself, devoted entirely to the process of unravelling you. 
The next time he dips his tongue between your folds, he does it deliberately, calculated, as if he has already memorised your shape and now seeks to pry you open. He parts your lips to make way for his mouth, hot and soft against your clit. Softly, you cry out, watching as he presses a featherlight kiss to your pearl. You try to grind against his face, needing more, but a resounding slap to your ass stops you dead. 
“No takin’ what I don’t give,” he says. “You understand me?”
You pout, but you nod your head anyway. 
He decides it isn’t good enough and abruptly takes your clit between his teeth in a scolding bite. 
“Repeat. It.”
“I’ll only take what you give,” you tell him. “I’ll be good.”
Apparently satisfied, he hums, diving back in and finally—finally—sucks on your needy clit. “Oh!” He’s eager, sure, but he’s practised. He’s meticulous in the way he applies pressure to your clit, lapping at you greedily and pulling back to draw your pleasure into measured tidal waves. You crest only to recede from shore, and then his lips suction to you again, his hand snaking around to your front and pressing down on your lower belly. 
“Fuck!” you squeak, your stomach tightening as the dizzying pleasure overcomes you. “Joel, I’m gonna—!”
The orgasm pulls you under, drowning you with a forceful hand, your lungs sucking in mouthfuls of air. You seize, your heel digging into Joel’s muscled back, your fingers fisting his hair, your cunt clenching desperately around nothing, begging to be filled. Joel keeps his mouth on you all the while, licking you through your high, and you think it’s a benevolent act until your orgasm gently fades and he continues to make out with your pussy as if it never happened.
“Ah! Joel, please—” It’s so much. Too much; your pussy contracts relentlessly at the endless attention from his tongue, happily licking your clit and relishing the faint throbbing underneath it. It’s like he’s starved. His eyes are closed, his beard glistening with your wetness, his fingers dimpling your flesh as he pulls you right along to another high. 
Two thick fingers gather up the juices you’ve leaked onto your thighs and push them back into your hole, insistent in their desire to enter. You gasp, your heart in your fucking throat: “That’s only two?”
He chuckles, but the vibration only makes you jump, letting his fingers sink inside your cunt to the knuckle. “Oh, fuck, fuck, Daddy, that feels so good, please make me come again, I need it, please—!”
Joel groans into your pussy, curling his fingers toward him so they press against a spongy spot inside you that sends your head spinning, your mind folding in on itself. All you know is the next orgasm, the best way to get him to give it to you, the fastest way to reach that indelible place once more, just once more—
Joel’s hand applies more pressure to your belly, and you scream, clawing desperately at his shoulder as you give yourself over to something much, much stronger than an orgasm. It’s foreign, the creeping sensation of an invader taking up residence in your body. You cannot see, cannot hear. It assumes control, tearing a cry from your mouth and locking all your limbs tight and splashing your wetness all over Joel’s chin, beard, shirt. 
You think he only stops because you begin to list; he catches you around the hips and presses a soft kiss to your used little clit. “Mmmmm,” is vaguely how you manage to thank him, your eyes peeling slowly open. 
“I know, baby girl,” he says, stroking your hip bone with his thumb. He litters kisses all over your thighs, coaxing you through the minute twitching of your muscles as they relax. “You did so good for me, pretty girl. So fuckin’ beautiful. My sweet girl.”
You shiver in his grasp, watching as he makes his way back up your body. He swipes his forearm across his wet beard and you moan a little at the sight. “Nobody’s ever…”
Joel crowds you, his hand cupping the back of your neck so he can guide your gaze up to him. “That's what you don't understand, sweetheart,” he says. “You can try to find another man to make you happy, but he won't be me. I’m the only one who’s gonna treat you right.”
“Joel…” Sense begins to push at the edges of your brain, but you only slump further into his touch, letting him secure your hair behind your ear. “This isn't right,” you whisper. “I pay you every month to live here. People will know. People will talk about me.”
“People have suffered worse for a hell of a lot less.” 
You have no time to decode his words because he grabs your hand and presses your palm over his chest. Beneath the shirt and the warm, tanned skin, you feel a strong, rapid heartbeat, hammering away at his ribs. He maintains eye contact, the gaze incisive, peering right into the cluster of wiring inside your head that calls his name. “You feel my heart and you tell me this ain't real. You think this ain't love? You think it's obsession? Infatuation? Think I can’t see you lookin’ at me the way you do?”
His words pin you to the ground. They’re possessive, covetous—jealous. He wants you, and he knows you want him. All these months, he’s wanted you the way you’ve craved him; all the comforts and the roses and the baked goods in lieu of payment for substantial repair jobs; the times he’s let slide some late payments because I know it’s tough sometimes, the inexplicable kindnesses in your everyday. 
Joel Miller dedicated himself to you the second you arrived to see the prospective apartment. 
“You’re mine,” he says, his thumb stroking your jaw. “And I wanna hear you say it.”
People will call you a whore. They’ll think you’re pimping yourself out for cheaper rent. They’ll send you filthy looks. But the man in front of you makes you feel wanted. Desired. You’re better than all the dates that failed. You’re better than a shitty boss who won’t give you the raise you deserve. Joel is good to you. He’s always been.
“I’m yours, Joel Miller,” you say, resting your forehead against his. “Now please take me to bed.”
He grins, taking your hand and leading you to your bedroom. You get grabby straight away, fingering the hem of his shirt with a pleading look in your eye. You can still see the evidence of your orgasm staining the collar. “You can take it off, baby,” he says with that cocky smile, letting you lift the shirt over his head. In the sunlight, the grey in his hair shimmers, and his chest is bared to you. You lick your lips, placing your hands on his broad shoulders just to feel the way your palms contour to his dips and curves. 
You lean in and put your lips to his neck, tracing the shape of him down to the hollow of his throat, He tastes faintly of fresh air and sweat, and he smells like you. Your hands admire the warmth and strength underneath them, his body so tangible when only yesterday it was a distant dream. He lets you indulge, though his hands flex at his sides, and your fingers fumble with his belt buckle. 
“Help,” you mumble against his chest, bumping your nose into him. Joel chuckles, relieving you of your burden and shucking off his belt. It clinks along the floor somewhere nearby, and you can unbutton his jeans to bring them down, freeing his hard, throbbing cock. 
Your mouth waters at the sight. He’s thick and slightly curved, the tip leaking precum onto his belly, his balls heavy with the need to come. During those long nights after long days of work, you would imagine, for hours on end, what lingered just below his belt; the little trail of hair leading down his soft belly to your destination; the way his wide shoulders would bracket your body, shelter you from all the tough shit you could possibly suffer. You would picture all the ways you could thank him. You bite your bottom lip and ready yourself to sink to your knees, but Joel is having none of it. He attacks your mouth, kissing you deeply, his hands sliding up your back as if he's trying to count every vertebrae. He doesn't relent even when your knees hit the edge of the bed and you collapse backward onto the mattress. He only crawls over you and pins you beneath his hard body. 
“So pretty like this,” he says, lowering his head and nudging your chin upward with his nose to give himself better access to your throat. He sucks and nips at you all the way down, pausing at your heaving breasts. His fingers gently toy with one stiff nipple while his mouth occupies itself with the other, teasing it with his tongue and his teeth. You moan softly, content to watch him explore your body, squeezing your tits before he migrates downward. 
“Daddy,” you whisper, stroking his hair away from his face, your head falling back onto the pillows as his fingers part your folds once more. “Fuck, please, touch me. I need you inside me.”
Joel settles in between your open legs and takes his cock in his hand. You mewl for him, determined in the face of his big cock to fit it nicely inside you. “Mmm, you ready for me, baby girl? You need Daddy to fill you up, use you like a pretty little toy?” 
You’re nodding frantically, the words igniting you. “Please take me.”
Joel slaps the head of his cock against your clit, once, twice, watching your thighs twitch. Spreading the slick wetness from your pussy onto the tip, he finally guides himself to your hole and notches just inside. 
“Jesus,” he utters. “Jesus, you're a fuckin’ dream.”
“It’s real,” you pant, “I’m real.”
He begins to disappear inside you, wrenching you open, your poor pussy disused from going so long without decent sex. You feel the pinching pain give way to a delicious pressure in your core as he eases into you, taking it slow despite his taut jaw, his gritted teeth. Your cunt forms a tight seal around his length, your arousal lubricating his entry, and you feel lightheaded. He’s so fucking big—and he’s still going.
“Oh, my… Joel—”
“I know, baby.” He brings his thumb to your clit and helps you relax with every circular swipe. “I know what y’like.”
You keen up against him, your thighs squeezing his hips. He's only halfway inside you and it feels like being filled up to your throat, choking on the air you breathe. Your head falls back, your hands flying up to your tits and squeezing. 
“Daddy…”
One of Joel’s hands overlaps yours where it grasps your breast. “That’s my girl. You can take me. Always knew you could.” Still, he's panting with the exertion of holding back. 
“You thought about me?” you say coyly, trying to pull him deeper inside you. He obliges, if only because you're being so petulant, and his hips finally knock into yours. You release a bone-deep sigh of relief.
“All I do”—his hips thrust shallowly, baring his teeth as he paws at your thighs—“is think about you.”
You cry out at the angle, the depth he reaches, how thick and heavy he sits inside you. Your pussy sucks him in, begging for more, and Joel obliges by hooking his hand in the back of your knee and pushing your thigh toward your chest. 
Your vision whites, a ragged cry leaving your mouth. “Oh, fuck! Yes, yes, yes, that feels so good—”
“‘s right, baby girl. I’m the only one’s gonna fuck you this good,” Joel grits out, dragging his thick cock along your walls, spreading you open, forcing himself to fit. The head of his cock kisses your cervix with every thrust, measured in their intensity, just enough to drive you up the goddamn wall but never enough to sting. “I’m the only one you want.”
Your mouth is open and his pounding urges a steady rush of ah, ah, ahs up your throat. Joel leans over you and tilts your head back with a hand in your hair to slant his mouth over yours. He lets you pour your cries into his mouth and he swallows them down, fucking you so hard that your hips begin to ache. 
He smatters your jaw with sloppy kisses. You lift your hand to his face and trace the patches in his beard, your brows drawn together in your perpetual haze. 
“I dreamed about you,” you whisper, taking his earlobe between your teeth to make him growl against your skin. “Touched myself thinking about you.”
“I know,” he says, his hips grinding hard against yours, rubbing up against your used clit. He answers your gasp by nibbling your throat, and you keep him fixed to you with your hand at the back of his neck. His soft hair is matted with sweat and you want to bury yourself here, etch the shape of him into your stone. He's strong, capable, so present in this moment that your heart begins to throb to the beat of his. 
Joel surges upward and takes you with him, forcing you to sit on his lap. At this angle, his cock reaches deeper, somehow, your mouth falling open and your forehead dropping to his shoulder. His palm is a soothing presence on your sweaty back as he tells you things that make you flush from your chest to your ears. 
“Thought about takin’ you on the goddamn bar last night,” he grunts, guiding your ass in a rolling rhythm along his lap, his cock gliding slowly along your walls. You moan, your thighs shaking around his hips. “Thought about spreadin’ you over my desk and fuckin’ you dumb with my cock.” 
You sob into the crook of his neck, grinding down on his cock, the pressure of his navel against your clit sparking hot in your lower belly. “What else?” you ask, nipping at the strong muscle where his shoulder meets his neck. Your tits are pressed up against his chest, his warmth engulfing you, your body slowly lowering over him as he guides you the way he likes. 
His palm coasts down your spine until he finds your puckered asshole. His name is jagged and rubbed raw on your tongue. 
“Shhh, baby girl.” The pad of his finger teases your hole with just enough pressure to ooze electric ecstasy down your spine. “Feels good, doesn't it?”
Fuck, his voice is so gentle, so knowing. You curl your fingers in his hair, your nose tickled by the locks that curl over his ears. 
“Mmmhmm,” you mewl, lifting your hips as best you can despite the growing aches, telegraphing your desire to be touched by him—played with. 
“Thaaat’s it,” he coos, his nose nudging your cheek as he turns his head. His finger continues to prod your asshole while his hips buck up into you. “Openin’ up for me like a good girl. You’d let me take you wherever I want, hmm? Whenever I want?”
“Yes, Daddy, yes,” you moan, your mouth perpetually open against the skin of his neck. You can’t think. You can't breathe. You can only drink down mouthfuls of him and let your body succumb to the delicious weight of his cock inside you. “Yes, I’ll be your little slut. I’ll be whatever you want. You make me feel so good.”
He seems pleased with your babbling, grinning into your cheek as he keeps you spread wide and pounds up into you. His finger continues to tease your tight hole until he feels your body contract around him and apparently decides that he isn't quite through with you. 
“Turn around. Hands and knees.”
Who are you to refuse?
You lament the brief loss of his cock as you shift into your knees, resting your forearms on the bed and teasing him with a wiggle of your ass. Joel hums appreciatively, sidling up behind you and grinding his hard cock between your asscheeks. You jolt forward, but he catches you around the waist and warms his palm at your ribs. 
Something warm and wet lands in a glob on your asshole, and you realise he fucking spit on you. Your head spins, dizzied by your own arousal, and soon, the warm, wet head of his cock slips back inside your hole, and you relish the refuge of being taken by him all over again. 
“You wanna know what else?” He begins to fuck you hard and fast and almost angry in its intensity. His thrusts knock against your ribcage and rattle the bars, your heart floundering for a way back to the surface. “I thought about knockin’ on your door every goddamn day and putting my dick in this pretty fuckin’ pussy. Thought about your tight fuckin’ body every single time I saw you walk by and a long time after. I thought about the noises you'd make and Jesus, I was right. So goddamn sweet.”
You’re drooling onto the pillow, your eyes rolling back in your head, your fingers uselessly clasping handfuls of your white sheets. Joel is an animal, mounting you from behind and taking you hard, deep, the slick squelching noises of your coupling so crude and indecent that they burn through your ears like a lit fuse. It's wrong. You never should have kissed him. But wrong shouldn't feel like this. 
Wrong shouldn’t taste like mint and coffee, shouldn't smell like roses and sawdust. Wrong shouldn’t feel like his cock sitting snug inside your pussy, some obscene jigsaw, seeping saplike pleasure down your spine. 
This must be right. 
His hands are rapacious, one wrapping around your hair and the other guiding the bend of your back, arching you perfectly to fit him while he takes you the way he likes. “Such a tease in those pretty dresses. Such a prim and proper girl ‘til she gets the right dick. You’ll get on your knees for this dick, baby girl, won't you? You’ll beg for it like a goddamn whore.”
“I will!” you moan, your cheek pressed into the mattress. The force of his thrusts have you travelling up the bed in minuscule movements, his thighs slapping hard against yours. “Fuck, I will, Daddy! Please, Daddy, I wanna make you feel good, I’ll do anything.”
“You're doin’ such a good job already, sweet thing,” he says, using his leverage on your hair and your waist to yank you upright, his chest pressed to your back, your ass now firmly sat in his lap. You moan long and low at the new angle, your back arching and your toes curling. 
Joel groans against your jaw, his mouth travelling along the line of it in sloppy kisses that indicate he's about as close as you are. “Yeah, baby. Fuckin’ drunk on my cock. Fucked you good and dumb, hmm? Fucked you so good you can't even think.”
You can only manage a low whine, the sound of it a fleeting puff of air from your lips, the oxygen in your lungs depleting and replaced with the smell of him. You try to bounce on his dick—you really do try—but you cannot remember how to work the muscles in your thighs. You cannot remember what you had for breakfast nor the colour of the skirt you wore today. You can only vaguely understand the shape of the man behind you, the name that belongs to him, the way you curve and fit into him. You’re falling, the technicolour world outside your window fading to the sound of soft, beating wings—that may be your heart, fluttering in your ears—as you seize, yielding to the pleasure. 
You will not recall the sounds you make when you come, grasping blindly at his thighs to keep yourself from falling over, your ears ringing. You feel his moustache scratching your jaw and his cock working you through your high, slowing his thrusts to help you land softly on solid ground. You may cry out his name, and you may call him something else entirely. But it's vibrant. It's radiant as the sunlight now dipping behind the distant buildings. It tastes just as sweet as the golden hour. 
Joel does not stop fucking you when your body goes limp in his arms. No, he resumes his brutal pace, using you like a fucking toy to get himself off. You happily take it, your head lolling back against his shoulder and your eyes drooping. 
“Nnh, fuck… I’m gonna… Jesus—oh, fuck—”
His hips press flush to your ass and he nuzzles his face into your throat, depositing kisses and love bites all over your skin as he pumps shallowly into you, his hot cum filling you up and leaking generously around the seal of your cunt. You gasp, your fingers threading through his already-tousled hair, keeping him glued to you as he flexes against your body and comes hard enough to double himself over. 
He collapses on top of you, forcing you to bend at the hip, little puffs of air escaping his mouth and seeping into you. You whine, your sore hips battered and bruised, your pussy deliciously abused as you pulse continuously around his dick. “Joel, please…”
He comes slowly back into his body, his lips trailing down your spine as he lifts himself upright. “Shit. ‘m sorry, baby girl. You feel okay?”
You hum happily, letting yourself pant into the mattress. “Feels so good.”
Joel pulls out, savouring the tight drag of his cock out of your pussy, hissing through his teeth and watching his thick cum dribble slowly out of your hole. “Such a fuckin’ pretty sight. My sweet girl, all used up.”
You drop your face into your forearm and giggle. Joel smooths his hand over your lower back. “What's so funny?”
“Just…” You sound a bit hysterical as you continue to laugh. “I’m going to be late on rent this month. I put a down payment on a car.”
Joel lowers himself next to you and gently pulls you into him, his moustache tickling your cheek. “Planning on gettin’ the hell outta dodge?” he says playfully, nipping your earlobe. 
Your eyes droop and you sink into him. “Think I’ll stay here for a while.”
“I know you will, baby,” he murmurs.
“Joel?”
“Hmm.”
“Thank you for the necklace.”
~
It’s night when you next wake, and Joel is next to you. 
For someone so stern and strong, he looks utterly serene in his sleep. His lips are slightly parted, half his face pressed into the pillow, his hair curling around his ears and his arm lazily draped over you. You gently sweep a lock of hair away from his face. 
Through the dark, the red light beams, and the arm around your waist tugs you closer.
THE END.
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i23kazu · 8 months
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GENSHIN MEN & THEM BEING GIRL DADS .
characters. zhongli diluc kaeya childe neuvillette alhaitham kaveh x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. augh dad | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D
zhongli
tries to introduce your daughter to the concept of a tea ceremony with the assistance of madame ping – zhongli absolutely cannot keep a straight face when your daughter spits out the bitter liquid and instead opts for formula. at least she tried it, he laughs, and sits her tucked on his lap after she turns to him and asks for a 抱抱 (bào bào; to hug).
diluc
takes your daughter on a walk around the ragnvindr manor. visits from uncle kaeya are a regular sight, and the two brothers take one hand of your daughter's each before setting off. you trail behind them, smiling and taking photographs for memories. halfway through the walk, your daughter makes grabby hands for diluc.
kaeya
wants to play games with his daughter all day, but cannot – instead, he sneaks her into his office to play while he finishes his paperwork. when the little girl whines to be put on his lap, kaeya puts down everything he's doing to make sure that his little angel is comfortable in his arms. brings her home right after work as well. how cute!
childe
willingly plays dress up with your daughter!!! it's so so so cute. he'll come home, slumped on a couch and snoring – when your daughter climbs all over him like a human jungle gym. unfortunately, she got into your makeup stash, and it's evidence by her little masterpiece all over childe's face. he has to take pictures after, because the little artist said so.
neuvillette
his relationship with the melusines really just screams girl dad, doesn't it? but when the two of you have a biological daughter, his love for her cannot compare to anything else. he gently weaves his fingers through her hair, replicating his own hairstyle, with added braids in it. the little girl squeals with delight, because she looks like daddy.
alhaitham
alhaitham has taken up the duty of having daddy storytime, right before bed. your little girl curls up in his lap, clinging on to the same storybook he has read to her for the past... 40? 45? nights, in a row. alhaitham doesn't even need the storybook at this point, and even ends up creating new characters for the story. your girl loves it.
kaveh
is the primary source of entertainment for your daughter. she loves how her daddy can be so silly yet so... smart, at the same time. she probably doesn't even know what smart is – she just sees the huge books and papers that daddy brings home every day. but she loves him, because he plays with her and feeds her her favourite snacks.
taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx (send ask to be added to taglist)
reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)
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scoonsalicious · 2 days
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6.2 Lily
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, toxic plants being manipulative and toxic.
Word Count: Bucky done fucked up.
Previously On...: 2.5k
A/N: Please note: I will be taking a one week break from posting starting on Thursday, May 16th, to focus on writing. I will resume posting on Thursday, May 23rd.
If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
He was on his way! 
After disconnecting from her call with Bucky, Lily bent down to her front driver’s side tire and, using her car key, pried out the nail she’d run over to ensure it would go flat while she ran the trail. Walking to the edge of the parking lot, she hurled the nail into the woods, getting rid of any evidence that she’d manufactured the current predicament she “accidentally” found herself in.
It didn’t matter if Bucky hadn’t come home from his date last night. Hadn’t told her that he’d even been on a date to begin with. What mattered was that, when Lily had called, Bucky had left the bitch behind and had come running. To her.
And that meant something. 
Right?
Bucky could go out with some slut if he wanted to, but when Lily had needed him, Bucky had dropped everything to be there for her, and that knowledge made Lily’s insides glow with warmth. She was still his number one girl; she shouldn’t have let herself get worked up over one date that probably didn’t mean anything. Bucky had dated before, and Lily had made sure none of them stuck around for very long. This time wouldn’t be any different.
So, Lily waited. She checked her email, she played some games on her phone, she listened to a podcast. Finally, a little over an hour after she’d hung up with Bucky, she saw one of Tony’s sportscars speed into the parking lot and make its way to the trailhead.
Her heart sank at the thought of Bucky sending Tony Stark to help her in his stead, so it was quite a shock to her system when the car pulled up next to hers, turned its engine off, and Bucky himself stepped out. He wasn’t wearing his usual tshirt and jeans, no– he was wearing a rumpled burgundy button-up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the first couple of buttons left undone at his neck, and a pair of fitted, black trousers. 
Lily swallowed. His hair was a mess, but she could imagine how put together he must have looked the night before, and that made her stomach twist. He’d made an effort. He’d made a real, genuine effort to dress up for this date that he lied to her about.
“Hey, Lil,” he said, once she got out of her car to meet him. He smiled, but she’d known him long enough to be able to tell when his smiles weren’t genuine, and this one didn’t reach his eyes.
“Hey, Jamie,” she said, offering him a fake smile  of her own to hide her distress. “Thank you so much for coming out. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 
“I’m sure Steve or Sam or anyone from the Compound would have been more than willing to help you out, Lil,” Bucky said as he walked to the back of her car. “Could you pop the trunk for me so I can get your jack and the spare?”
Lily bent her head back inside to unlock the trunk, rolling her eyes as she did so. If she’d wanted someone else to change her tire, she’d have just done it herself. Or, you know, not popped her own tire to begin with. But that was beside the point.
She walked around to the back of the car so she could help Bucky move things around in her trunk to get to her spare. “You’re dressed awfully fancy for a Sunday morning,” she said, watching him out of the side of her eye. “You find God and suddenly decide to start going to church?”
Bucky chuckled. “Something like that,” he said. Lily stole a glance in his direction and caught him smiling softly to himself as he pulled her spare out from the trunk with his vibranium hand. Taking her car jack in the other, he moved around to the driver’s side and began loosening the lug nuts with his left hand. Lily shivered when she considered how strong he was, how much power that one hand contained.
Once all the nuts were loosened, he slid the jack under the frame of the car and began raising it. He was annoyingly efficient at this, Lily thought, and she realized her window of time with him wasn’t as big as she had originally anticipated.
“So, where were you when I called this morning, really?” she asked, leaning up against the side of Tony’s car as she watched him work. She just wanted him to be honest with her. She didn’t think she could take it if he continued to lie.
Bucky stilled in his motions. “I… I, uh, had a date,” he said after a moment.
Lily paused, playing confused. “A date on a Sunday morning?” she asked him. “That’s a really weird—oh.” Bucky left the car suspended on the jack and turned to face her, hands shoved into his pockets, and the guilt in his eyes nearly palpable. 
Good, Lily thought. Let him be guilty, now that he realizes I know he lied to me. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone, Jamie,” she said, voice deliberately meek and soft. “Why didn’t you say something?”
Bucky sighed and leaned back against her car. “It’s new,” he said. “Like, really new.”
Good, she thought. This hasn’t been going on for a long time. There was still a good chance she could nip it in the bud before it grew into a real problem. “So, when you said you were out with Sam last night…” She left it hanging in the air. Let him be the one to say the word.
“I lied to you,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”
“Why, Jamie?” she asked him. “I didn’t think we lied to one another.” She thought about the hole she’d punched in her own tire. Well, she didn’t think he lied to her.
“We don’t, Lil,” he said. “I just… It seems like whenever I start seeing someone new, you just…” he paused to consider his words, and Lily started to get nervous. Did he know… did he suspect the things she’d done in the past to keep other girls away from him? He couldn’t. She’d been so careful… “You just form a lot of opinions on them, really quickly,” he said, and she released a breath. He didn’t know anything. She was safe. “I wanted to get to know this girl on my own, without any outside influences, before I decided to find out what everyone else thought about her.”
“I only tell you what I think because I care about you, Jamie,” Lily protested in her gentlest voice. She was going to have to walk a very delicate line here, between stressing her point and sounding sympathetic. “I’m just trying to look out for you, that’s all.”
“I know,” he said with a sigh. “I know you are, and I do appreciate it, but… I want to be able to figure out how I feel about this one before I start soliciting opinions about her from everyone else. Does that make sense?”
It did. Fuck, it did. Usually, Bucky was so eager to talk about the new girls he was dating, to introduce him to his best friends and find out what they thought about her, to get their opinions. If he was reticent this time, it could only mean one, horrible thing:
“You really like this girl, don’t you, Jamie?” Lily asked, trying so hard to keep her voice light, when inside, she felt like she was dying.
Bucky looked up at her. “Yeah, Lil,” he said, his dazzling white smile beaming at her and making her heart stop. “I really do.”
“That’s great,” Lily choked out. She turned back to the trunk of her car, pretending to busy herself with its contents so she didn’t have to look at him. “That’s really great.”
She heard Bucky move around and start working on the tire again. “Not really,” he said, his voice sounding dejected. Lily moved her head around from the back of the trunk to look at him. 
“What do you mean?” she asked, a spark of hope coming to life in her chest. 
Bucky let out a long sigh. “I think I might have blown it with her,” he said as he worked to take the flat tire off of her car. 
“Oh no,” Lily said, trying to keep the smile out of her voice. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do anything, afterall. Maybe Bucky had managed to fuck it up on his own. “What happened?”
Bucky was silent for a moment as he replaced the tire with ease. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he said eventually. “Let’s just say that we left things very… ambiguously. I asked her if I could call her later, she didn’t really give me an answer either way. Just kind of shrugged. If she wanted me to call her, she would have just said so, right?”
Lily felt her stomach do a happy flip, but she put on a fake pout. “Oh, Jamie,” she said, fake sympathy oozing over her words, “please don’t tell me she’s playing mind games like that with you already! If a girl wants you to call her, she’ll tell you to call her, not play hard to get.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Bucky said defensively as he began re-tightening the lugnuts on the tire. “I just… I did something she didn’t like, is all. And she’s probably rightly pissed about it.”
Lily walked around the car to stand next to him as he finished up. “I don’t think I like this, Jamie,” she said cautiously. “You’ve barely started dating this girl, and already she thinks she can dictate your actions? That doesn’t seem healthy to me, at all.”
Bucky stood, running a hand across his face. “Nah, Lil– you’re… you’re getting it twisted. I made a mistake. I know I did, and she’s got every right to be mad at me about it. I need to talk to her, to sort it out.” Lily was losing ground; thankfully, she’d come prepared.
“Listen, Jamie,” she said, abruptly changing the topic in the hopes of getting his mind off this mysterious skank, “I was planning on having lunch up here today, since it’s so gorgeous out. I probably overdid it when I packed my food. Do you want to join me?”
Bucky heaved a sigh and looked like he was about to decline.
“Consider it my way of saying ‘thank you’ for you coming all the way out here to rescue me,” she added, knowing that she was laying it on thick, but not wanting him to walk away. “Come on, we’ll make a picnic of it. It’ll be fun!”
“Yeah, alright,” Bucky said, letting a smile cross his face. “I could eat.”
Bucky Barnes always did have a soft spot for a damsel in distress. With a grin, Lily opened the backseat of her car and pulled out the cooler she’d preemptively packed in the hope that just such an opportunity would arise. Lily was nothing if not prepared. 
Bucky reached for it. “Here, let me,” he said, taking it from her. Lily smiled to herself as she reached back into the car to pull out the picnic blanket she’d packed. 
“Such a gentleman,” she said as she closed the car door and led Bucky down one of the trails. It was a gorgeous late-summer day, and Lily could almost convince herself they were on a real date together. Almost. God, what she wouldn’t give for this to be the real thing. 
After they’d walked for about fifteen minutes, Lily veered left off of the trail and into the woods. “You bringing me back here to kill me?” Bucky asked in a playful tone as he followed her with the cooler.
“Yup,” Lily teased right back. “I definitely have faith in my ability to take out a super soldier on my own.” Her heart swelled when she was rewarded with an amused chuckle from Bucky. 
Soon, they reached her destination: a cozy clearing that sat along the bank of a creek that ran through the park, with a small waterfall that fed a crystal clear pool below.
“This is nice,” Bucky said, coming up behind Lily as she fanned out the blanket. “How’d you find this spot?”
Lily sat down and reached to take the cooler from Bucky, beckoning him to join her. “I was scouting some potential off-trail runs for the recruits and just kind of stumbled upon it,” she told him. She opened up the cooler and began taking out the food she’d brought– all of Bucky’s favorites.
Bucky nodded, then looked at the spread with wide eyes. “You packed all of this for yourself, Lil?”
Lily felt a slight blush creep up her cheeks– she had not, in fact, packed it all for herself, but specifically in the hope that he would end up joining her, though he could never know that. “I guess I just overestimated how hungry I’d be after my run,” she told him as she handed him a bottle of water. “Thanks for joining me so that all this food doesn’t go to waste.”
“No problem,” he said as he began to tear into the food she’d brought. “Thanks for getting a flat tire, I guess,” he added with a laugh.
They ate amicably, making small talk about their upcoming plans for the week, and how Lily’s latest batch of recruits looked. Lily was itching to ask Bucky more about his mystery date, to find out who she was, if she was someone Lily knew; but she didn’t want to bring it up– the less Bucky talked about her, the more likely he was to just forget about her all together, right? Especially if he’d done something to piss her off. Better to keep him distracted so that the window of opportunity for any reconciliation closed without him noticing it.
Soon, the food was gone, the sun high in the sky. Lily and Bucky both lay back on the picnic blanket, staring lazily up into the blue sky. “We should do something today,” Lily suggested, trying not to sound too eager.
Bucky chuckled. “Aren’t we doing something now, Lil?” he asked.
She playfully shoved his shoulder. “Later, I mean. Like, we’re having a good time; we should continue it. Go somewhere nice for dinner, do something after, like go to a club or see a show or something. Make a whole ‘friend-date’ night out of it!” Anything, she thought to herself. I’ll do anything, as long as I’m doing it with you. And who knew what could happen in the right romantic setting?
“Yeah, that sounds like it could be fun,” Bucky mused. “Sure.”
“Really?” Lily couldn’t believe her luck. “Leave all the planning to me, then!” She’d make sure she got a table at the most romantic restaurant she could find, and get them tickets to something steamy that would put Bucky in the right mood… She knew just what dress to wear, to show just enough skin to be tantalizing…
Yes, tonight, things were going to change. Lily could feel it.
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kimkaelyn · 1 month
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Ditto [s. todoroki]
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𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒, 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓃𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝒮𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉, 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀, 𝑜𝒽 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜 — 𝒟𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜, 𝒩𝑒𝓌𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈
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→ summary: when you transferred to U.A., you didn't anticipate slipping on a pair of chopsticks in the middle of the crowded cafeteria during your first week. however, what was more surprising was the unexpected fall for the boy who gracefully caught you.
→ pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader
→ genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers
→ word count: 13.1k
→ warnings & tags: sfw, female pronouns are used, usage of y/n l/n, Class 1-A are now third-year students aka 18+, swearing, the usual U.A. chaos, reader has a Quirk, misunderstandings, some training violence, minor injuries, mentions and discussions of insecurities, aizawa briefly belittles the reader as a form of motivation, beginnings of a panic attack but it's cut short, there is one instance of the reader appearing to be ‘flushed’ in regards to a fever, since this is my first bnha fic some characters might be ooc? | please kindly let me know if I missed any tags!
→ author's note: AHHHH HERE IT IS! I've been working on this for almost a year now and I am so excited to finally share it with all of you. Honestly, I didn't think I would ever finish this story, but I kept slowly chipping away at it thanks in part to the encouragement from @andypantsx3, @missrosegold, and @getstarried. Special thanks to @pikatsum for beta-reading this for me! Thank you girls. This is for you🫶🏻
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The cafeteria at U.A. High School was a pretty chaotic environment, you quickly learned within your first week after transferring from another Hero Course in the countryside. There were multiple things that could and would happen after the famous students had gotten some much-needed nutrients in their systems.
It was only three days into the school year and nothing had happened just yet, but in the U.A. world, that something was overdue.
The first chaotic event of the year that everyone had been anxiously—or in some cases, excitingly—waiting for happened on Thursday.
The day started off average; you got to school with three minutes to spare, which was a new record, but you had forgotten your pencil pouch in your dorm room, so you had to borrow some pencils from a girl who sat in front of you; Mina Ashido.
“Thank you,” you whispered as you took the pastel pink utensil from her. There was even a cute little fluffy puffball at the end in exchange for an eraser. Good thing you had an eraser in your bag.
“No problem! I gotcha!” She physically lit up and gave you a bright smile before turning back to focus on the blackboard.
You somehow managed to get through your morning classes running on the four hours of sleep you got the night before. You were cutting it quite close to passing out at your desk during calculus class, but you were saved by the lunch bell.
As soon as you stepped foot into the hallway, you were wrapped up in the faint, delicious scent of your favorite food coming from the cafeteria. Your mouth instantly watered, and you made a mad dash for the source of the delicious scent.
“Hey!” a sharp voice made you freeze in your steps. You glanced over your shoulder to find Tenya Iida, Class 3-A’s representative, glaring at you. The light reflecting off his glasses made him appear more threatening than he really was, but regardless, you still found yourself shying away from his harsh glare and rapid-moving hands. As they passed by, some students gave you apologetic smiles while others were not shy about openly staring at the scene before them, wondering what you possibly could have done to induce the wrath of the student representative. “There is to be no running in the halls!” You cowered some more at his brisk and overly formal tone.
Geez, what a stuck-up, you thought to yourself.
“My apologies, Iida.” You respond with a bow. He accepted your apology with a curt nod before he continued on his way to the cafeteria.
You waited for him to pass before rising from your bow. “Wow, he makes it feel like I broke the law or something.” You mused aloud.
“Don’t take it personally,” a comforting voice said from behind you. You turned to find Momo Yaoyorozu, Ochako Uraraka, and Tsuyu Asui standing before you. Ochako gave you a slight wave in greeting. “Iida can be quite demanding,” Yaoyorozu reassured you.
“Thank you.”
Tsuyu regarded you with gentle onyx eyes. “It’s L/N, right?”
You smiled, happy that she remembered your name from roll call. “Y-yeah! I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduced yourself. “I, um, already know who you guys are.” You suddenly felt shy, and you bashfully rubbed the back of your neck out of nervous habit.
Before your transfer was finalized, you did extensive research into your future school’s history and future classmates. Thankfully—or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it—a lot of information is public knowledge; the various attacks on the school in the year leading up to and the conclusion of the War between the Paranormal Liberation Front and the Heroes, not to mention the various televised sports festivals, and the fact that the members of Class 1-A are practically household names even before their graduation.
The girls invited you to sit with them in the cafeteria. You had been keeping to yourself the first few days of school, choosing to observe from afar the already established social circles and friend groups. You had waited for an invitation to join one of said groups, and here was your opportunity.
The four of you made small talk as you made your way through the lunch line and to the table. Right away, Asui told you to call her by her given name. You told them about your life growing up in the countryside—with you and Uraraka bonding over your shared reason for becoming Pro Heroes—about the friends you had, embarrassingly funny stories from your junior high days, and eventually what led you to transfer to U.A.
“Well, this is the best Hero Course in the country!” you all laughed. “But to be frank, the only teacher at my old academy who could handle my Quirk retired, and none of the other academies within the prefecture had the resources to help me advance. Plus, my mentor is an U.A. alumnus, so naturally, the only other choice was U.A.”
Yaoyorozu hummed. “It is a shame about your mentor retiring, but that is what led you to transfer to U.A., and for that, I am grateful.” The class vice representative regarded you kindly. “I am a firm believer of things happening for a reason, and your transfer doesn’t change that.”
Uraraka nodded her agreement. “Momo’s right. U.A. is a place where anybody can make a difference, and I think you will find success here.”
You were rendered speechless. The tips of your ears turned red as your classmates regarded you with so much hope and sincerity in their eyes. “Uh . . . I,” you bashfully scratched the back of your head. Not knowing how to respond, you instead reached for the small bottle of milk on your lunch tray and brought it to your lips.
However, before you could take a sip, a BOOM erupted from the front of the cafeteria, accompanied by a gruff voice yelling, “Don’t walk in front of me, Icy-Hot!” You reflexively jolted at the loud noises and lost your grip on the glass, spilling the half-full bottle all over the front of your uniform.
“Shit,” you exclaimed as you instinctually rose from your seat, only to quickly sit down again when the liquid started to fall to the floor. The girls gasped and were quick to hand you all the napkins in the vicinity.
“Are you okay, Y/N?” Asui asked as she watched you pat down your sodden skirt.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” You waved off her concern as you continued to wipe away the remaining liquid. The napkins managed to soak up most of it, but your skirt was still damp. If you didn’t change skirts, you were going to smell of milk for the rest of the day, and you didn’t want to start off the school year with a reputation for smelling vile. “I’m going to go back to the dorm really quickly and change into a clean uniform. Please let Mr. Snipe know that I will be late for class.”
“Do you want us to accompany you?” Yaoyorozu asked. She began to rise from her seat, but you stopped her.
“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You gave her what you hoped to be a reassuring grin instead of a grimace. “Thank you for offering, Yaoyorozu, but I’ll be fine.” Before your classmates could respond, you stood from the table and made your way to the exit.
Great, this is just great, you thought as you walked, not really paying attention to where you were going. As soon as I make some friends, I make a fool of myself.
Unbeknownst to you, there was an obstacle in the aisle directly ahead. You were too distracted by your growing inner turmoil to notice the pair of metal chopsticks lying on the ground before you until your foot made contact and slipped out from under you.
It all happened so fast that you couldn’t even react.
Time froze as you became weightless, and you felt your body become briefly suspended in the air. Before you could react and rotate your body to prevent yourself from violently banging your head on the tiled floor, gravity took hold and yanked you back down toward the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to witness your classmates’ reactions to your misfortune.
Great, now I’m gonna embarrass myself in front of the entire school. Fuck you, chopsticks.
You prepared yourself for the pain of hitting the hard floor but were shocked when you were suddenly wrapped in a chilled warmth. You did slam into a hard surface, but this didn’t feel like the cold tile you expected.
“Are you all right?” a voice asked from above. You opened your eyes, only to find yourself captivated by a beautiful graphite and turquoise gaze. Your mouth opened to respond to the inquiry, but you couldn’t speak. This strange yet calming gaze hypnotized you, causing the rest of the world to fade into a buzzing silence. You watched as the perfect eyebrows of the owner of those magical eyes furrowed downward at your prolonged silence, the action momentarily drawing your attention.
With your attention span no longer zeroed in on the heterochromatic gaze, the world around you suddenly slammed back into your senses at full force. The volume of your fellow classmates’ conversations was deafening at first, but your ears grew accustomed once again to zone them out and focus on the person before you.
It took about thirty seconds for the entirety of your current predicament to register within your brain.
You were hanging about ten centimeters off the ground. The only thing keeping you upright and injury-free was Shouto Todoroki’s firm grip on your wrist.
“Um, hello?” the dual-haired teenager once again drew your attention to him. His grip slightly tightened before he tugged you up onto your feet.
“I think you broke her, Icy-Hot.” A rough voice drawled from your peripheral.
The intrusion of the other voice is what finally brought you out of your stunned silence. “No, I’m okay. Not broken.”
“Did you hit your head?” Todoroki inquired. He steadied you on your feet but didn’t release your wrist from his hold. Katsuki Bakugou was standing off to the side, trying to appear like he wasn’t involved with either one of you.
“I-I don’t think so.” As you reached down to brush yourself off, you caught a whiff of the unflattering scent of old milk emitting from your clothes. You held back your gag and turned to face Todoroki and Bakugou. “I’m sorry to rush, but I really do need to go.” You gave a quick bow. “Thank you for catching me, Todoroki. Bye!”
The two boys watched you sprint away like a bat out of hell. “T’fuck is her problem,” Bakugou muttered. “Fuckin’ extra makin’ me late for lunch.”
Todoroki didn’t respond to his classmate’s remarks. His lips pursed together as he watched you nearly run into a couple of first years before you disappeared around a corner, out of sight.
“Don’ even think ‘bout it, Icy-Hot.” Bakugou drawled from beside him. Todoroki cocked an eyebrow, the only sign of emotion on his otherwise indifferent expression. “Gettin’ involved with ‘hat extra will ruin your precious bloodline.”
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You tried to forget about the cafeteria incident, but the embarrassing ordeal refused to secede from the forefront of your mind. As you lay in bed that night, your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers a minute, antagonizing and overanalyzing every second of what had happened.
As the night dragged on, your thoughts shifted from the overall event to one single individual: Shouto Todoroki. You knew who he was, of course. You didn’t grow up underneath a rock. Yet, you weren’t prepared for how much more handsome he was in person than on the news or in photos.
You overanalyzed everything he did in the brief two minutes you were blessed to be in his company, every word he said, and every brief flash of emotion that showed in his heterochromatic eyes. Todoroki had tried to approach you after training in Ground Beta once you had returned from the dorms, but you avoided him, not wanting to face him again so soon after the embarrassing first meeting.
By Sunday, you had begun to forget about your embarrassing cafeteria incident. Your newfound friends didn’t bring up the spilled milk, and thankfully, they didn’t see you slip on the chopsticks and fall into Shouto Todoroki’s muscular arms. You breathed a sigh of relief when you found out that last part. You didn’t want them to think you were a total klutz.
Todoroki may think otherwise.
As you were rounding the corner to walk back up the stairs to head back to your dorm room, Todoroki happened to be walking down. You both turned at the same time and walked straight into each other.
He wasn’t fazed by the sudden collision; however, you were taken completely off guard. No matter how strong you may be, suddenly walking into about a hundred kilos of pure muscle would make anyone stumble. While he remained steadily standing, you, on the other hand, fell back onto your ass.
It took about three seconds for the two of you to comprehend what the hell had just happened. You groaned out when pain flashed across your backside.
“My apologies, I did not see you.” Todoroki said as he offered you a hand. You begrudgingly accepted his assistance, face heating as your super handsome classmate helped you to your feet for the second time in a week.
“Thank you,” you bowed your head to him. You brushed away some dust from your sweatpants, finding yourself too shy to look back up.
You felt a firm, yet gentle hand land on your shoulder. You jerked your head upwards to meet Todoroki’s captivating gaze. “Are you injured?” His heterochromatic eyes searched you for any injury, and they glimmered with relief when he found none.
“No, I’m okay,” you reassured the male. “I may be a little bruised in the morning, but I will be fine.” Not to mention my bruised ego.
Todoroki hummed in acknowledgment, his hand still resting on your shoulder. His eyes were hyper-fixated on you, leaving you to feel bare under his intense gaze.
You shifted your weight back and forth as the silence between you dragged on for a couple more seconds. “Um, I—” You cleared your throat. “I should be on my way now. Got things to study, you know.” You told him with an awkward laugh.
You moved to step around him when it became obvious he wasn’t going to move. Your movements are what must have shaken him out of his stupor, with him bashfully stepping to the side to allow you access to the stairway.
“Right.” He said as you walked by. “Take care, Y/N.” You startled at his sudden usage of your given name, but nevertheless, you felt oddly relieved. You smiled shyly and bid him goodbye. Nothing else was said between the two of you, but you felt his eyes on you as you walked up the stairs.
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I hope he likes cinnamon; you thought as you peered into the oven.
To be fair, you should have considered that before laboring for over two hours making kinako cinnamon cookies from scratch—which absolutely failed. Therefore, as a last resort, you were forced to run to the store and buy a box mix.
The he in question?
Shouto Todoroki.
It had been several days since your embarrassing first interaction with the dual-haired male and forty-five hours since your second, literal, run-in—not that you were keeping track, of course.
You wanted to do something nice for him as a way to apologize for your newfound clumsiness and thank him for his assistance in both instances. Your calligraphy skills were not . . . up to par, so to say, by any means, so a handmade thank-you card was off the table, and you highly doubt Todoroki was a flower guy. Not to mention his affluent background, so buying him a gift or offering to take him out to dinner was null—and way too straightforward for two people who were barely even acquaintances.
Therefore, you were left with only one option: homemade cookies.
Besides, all the old aunties back home always said the quickest way to win anyone over was through food.
“Ooooh, something smells amazing!” someone exclaimed from the stairway. Smiling slyly to yourself, you turned away from the oven to the new arrival.
You hadn’t interacted much with Rikido Sato save for the casual good morning greetings and thanking him for the delicious red velvet cupcake he baked for you as a welcoming gift to U.A.
“Thanks,” you said, grinning at the male.
The combined low mutterings of more approaching classmates brought your and Sato’s attention to the doorway where Mina Ashido, Eijirou Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, and Hanta Sero were entering the dorm.
“Woah something smells fantastic!” Kaminari said, gazing into the kitchen in hopes of spotting the source of the delicious scent.
“Yeah, it does!” Kirishima agreed.
“Oh my gosh, what is it?” Ashido asked as she walked over. Her eyes lit up when she spotted you. “L/N! Did you make something?”
“I did.” You confirmed with a slight nod. “I’m making kinako cinnamon cookies.”
“Oooooh, yummy!” the pinkette exclaimed as she bounced over to peer into the oven. Your other classmates quickly joined her, all of them staring into the soft, golden light of the oven with stars in their eyes.
“They look so good!” Kaminari was practically drooling at the tawny treats. At that moment, the timer went off with a soft ting! You politely shooed your classmates back as you pulled a hand towel over your hands.
“Step back, everyone,” you warned as you opened the oven door. “They’re going to be hot.” You carefully reached in and grabbed the cooking tray, cautiously sliding it off the rack and fully into your cloth-covered hands. Despite taking precautions, you hissed as the hot aluminum seeped through the towel and made contact with your flesh. As quickly as you could without dropping the pan of cookies, you turned and set it down on the kitchen island.
“These look delicious!”
“Woah, man, they look amazing!”
“I bet they taste as scrumptious as they lo—”
You zoned out the boys’ compliments as you moved to the sink and turned on the tap.
“L/N, are you okay?” Ashido asked as she followed you. Her question caught the other's attention, and they, too, turned to watch you quizzingly.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Your response ended with a wince as your skin made contact with the cool water.
“Here, let me see,” Ashido gestured to your hand. With your permission, she took your wrist with gentle fingers and held it up for you both to inspect. Your skin was reddened slightly, but it wasn’t anything serious. You let out a sigh of relief. “It’s not serious, thankfully, but we should still put some burn cream on it just in case,” Ashido advised as she turned off the tap.
You nodded your head again and followed the pink-haired girl as she went to retrieve the first-aid kit. Before you walked too far from the kitchen, you shouted over your shoulder to your classmates, “Please don’t eat the cookies, boys! They are still hot and are for someone special!”
There was a noticeable delay in response to your warning. After a pregnant pause, there was a muffled, “okamph!” in response. You were about to turn around and make sure that they weren’t eating your treats, but Ashido calling your name changed your plans.
“Let’s fix you up, yeah?” She said as you both entered the girls' bathroom. Ashido gestured for you to sit on the counter while she dug through the first-aid kit for burn cream.
“Thank you, Ashido,” you said a few moments later as she lightly applied the cream to the worst of the reddening. Your skin wasn’t blistering, which was a good sign, but it was beginning to ache.
“No problem,” she replied. She began to gently rub the cream into your skin, mindful of the sore spots. She beamed at you as she said, “And you can just call me Mina. We are friends!”
You smiled at her. “Okay, Mina.” The two of you were silent for a couple of minutes as Mina continued to dress your burns.
“So,” she started, breaking the silence. “Who did you make the cookies for?”
You sharply inhaled. “W-what? What do you mean?” You tried to play it off by playing dumb, but Mina gave you an are you kidding me look.
“Don’t play that game with me, girl.” She scolded you. “So, tell me, who is this ‘special someone’?”
You let out a heavy sigh, dropping your shoulders in defeat. “One of our classmates. . .” You trailed off, turning away from the pinkette, and absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around your finger.
Mina’s eyes lit up and her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Oh my God, seriously?!?” She squealed. You turned to face her again. “Girl, you absolutely gotta tell me! Who is it?!” She went to grab ahold of your hands but stopped herself when she remembered your injury. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” You said. “But, um, I—” You hesitated, searching for the right words, but you couldn’t find them. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” You said, barely above a whisper, turning away from your classmate once more in embarrassment.
Mina leaned back, taken by surprise by your change of tone. She studied you for a few seconds, her expression falling when she saw the look on your face; the clenching of your jaw.
“It’s okay, girl,” she reassured you. She set the roll of bandages down on the counter as she finished wrapping your hand. “You don’t have to tell me who your crush is if you don’t want to.”
You whipped back around to face her, eyes wide. “C-crush?!” you stammered out. “W-what?! I don’t have a crush! I never said I did.” you explained.
“Yeah, sure,” Mina smirked at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You wouldn’t of baked cookies for them if you didn’t like them.”
“Um, because I’m nice?” you asked with a lilt in your voice. Mina does have a point, though, you thought.
Mina laughed. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.”
A couple of minutes later, you and the pinkette exited the bathroom, laughing over something Mina had said. Your hand had been expertly wrapped and treated with some burn cream. Your injury didn’t even hurt anymore, but you were still going to check in tomorrow with Recovery Girl as a precaution.
As you rounded the corner to go back into the kitchen, you stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes fell to the now-empty pan where twenty cookies sat not even ten minutes ago. Mina stopped next to you, and you could see her giving you a questionable look, but you didn’t—couldn’t—acknowledge her. You just stared blankly at the pan, trying to process what you were seeing.
What the hell? you thought.
“Ah, man,” a voice drawled out. You slowly turned towards the source; Denki Kaminari. He was lounging against the counter as he rubbed his stomach for emphasis. “Those cinnamon kinako cookies were delicious!” Your brain blanked out when you heard that, the organ pathetically trying to comprehend and respond to the current situation.
“You’re telling me!” Kirishima piped up from beside the blond. Sero and Sato voiced their agreement from where they were seated on the couches. “They really hit the spot after the day I had.” The redhead noticed you and Mina. “Hey, guys, welcome back!” he greeted with a wave, a broad smile overtaking his features. “How’s your hand?”
You did not formulate an answer right away, your brain still processing the crumbled remains of your cookies. Your delay didn’t go unnoticed by the others, but before they could question it, Mina came to your rescue.
“It’s okay! Y/N is alright, nothing major.” She informed them. Kirishima’s gaze left you to focus on the pinkette by your side, but Kaminari’s remained transfixed on your blank expression.
“Oh, well, that’s great to hear! I was worried—”
“But you should be ashamed!” Mina cut the redhead off, tone sharp as a blade. “All of you.”
“What—?”
“Mina, why—?”
Kirishima and Kaminari spoke at once, their voices clashing, but the pinkette interrupted them once more.
“Y/N didn’t make those cookies for you.” She said. “She made them for someone special, yet you guys ate them even after she told you not to.” She just about bit the last part out. The boys gaped at Mina, her scolding catching them by surprise.
“Is that true?” Sato asked, rising from the couch to approach you. Everyone fixated their attention on you, waiting for a response.
You hesitated at the sudden limelight, and also in shyness. When you originally set out to bake the kinako cookies for Todoroki, you didn’t expect them to 1.) burn your hand and 2.) for them to be eaten by others. Even though you were upset, you didn’t want the others to be ashamed or scolded. But they did eat them after I told them not to, you thought, pondering your next move.
After a few moments, you squared your shoulders and steadily said, “Yes. I . . . made them for somebody.” At your words, the room’s atmosphere soured. The boys’ shoulders slumped as they realized their mistake.
“Shoot, L/N, I’m sorry,” Kaminari said, stepping forward to gently grab your uninjured hand and bow.
“Yeah,” Kirishima added, scratching the back of his neck and looking away slightly. “That wasn’t really manly of us.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Sero intoned, looking sheepish.
Sato came to stand in front of you next to Kaminari, who still had a gentle hold of your hand. “I’ll be more than happy to remake the cookies for you.” He said. “If you want that, of course.”
You smiled, though it was closed-lipped. “Thank you, Sato, but not today.” He bowed his head.
Suddenly, the front doors slammed open, startling the six of you. You all watched, shell-shacked—you did, at least—as a fuming Bakugou stepped inside, loudly exclaiming, “I had ‘hat dumbass villain handled! Damn Sidekick extra jus’ had to step ‘n and—” He noticed your little group gaping at him. “The hell ‘re ya fools lookin’ at?” As the words left his mouth, the other two members of the infamous U.A. trio entered as well.
“Kacchan,” Izuku Midoriya said, trying to placate the explosive male. “He was just trying to . . .” The rest of his sentence fizzled into the background as the entirety of your attention span landed on Shouto Todoroki.
It had already been well-established that the youngest Todoroki son was even more handsome in person, but seeing him in his Hero costume did things to you. Your mouth almost dropped open to gawk at his god-like appearance, but you clenched your jaw tightly shut to avoid that catastrophe. Despite that, you were pretty positive your eyes were as wide as saucers, greedily taking every inch of him in as if it were the last time you would see him.
I should sue him for the cost of my medical bills when I develop heart palpitations, you thought.
“Shut the hell up, ya stupid nerd.” Bakugou snapped at a sputtering Midoriya, drawing your attention once more. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.
“Is he always this angry?” you asked under your breath; half-serious, half-rhetorical.
“Oh, yeah,” Mina confirmed, voice just as low.
Sero snickered from his post next to Sato. “You get used to it after a while,” he reassured you.
One of Kirishima’s blinding smiles makes its appearance once again. “Katsuki’s always been passionate about, well, everything.” He told you, not bothering to lower his voice. “It’s who he is. We love him regardless.”
Sato chimed in with, “Platonically.” The boys snickered and Mina rolled her eyes, yet there was a small smile playing on her lips.
“Even though his sour attitude can be harsh and lowkey over the top,” Kaminari began, eyes shining with mischief. “It sure makes him fun to mess with!” Your companions groaned in exasperation and started to voice their reservations.
“No, Denki. Leave him be—” Mina urged him.
“Awe, come on, man. Don’t—”
“Heyy~ Katsuki,” Kaminari crooned, rocking back on his heels as the pale blond’s attention zeroed in on him. Kirishima and Sato facepalmed. “Why have trouble catching a ‘dumbass villain’?” he teased. “Bad day? Your head not in the game?” The hair on your arms rose to attention as an electric charge swept the room, putting everyone on edge. Kaminari’s baiting also drew the attention of the explosive male’s companions. Your eyes briefly met captivating graphite and turquoise, eliciting a sharp gasp to leave your lungs.
“You’re gonna regret the day you were born, dumbass!” Bakugou bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at the electric blond, snapping your attention from the hypnotizing gaze. You fully expected him to charge the male, already taking a cautionary step back, but instead of explosions ripping apart the building, Bakugou grunted and moved towards the showers.
Mina turned to the blond and shouted, “Now why did you do that, Denki? You know better than to rile Katsuki up like that!”
Kirishima dragged a large hand down his face before running it through his unruly red locks. “I’ll go check on him,” he announced before jogging after the sandy-blond. You were at a loss for words as you continued to watch your classmates scold a shit-grinning Kaminari, not even the tiniest bit remorseful for his teasing of Bakugou.
“Please don’t take Kacchan’s rashness to heart.” A new voice piped up. You turned to meet the electric green gaze of none other than Izuku Midoriya, the new generation’s proclaimed Symbol of Peace. “I’m s-sorry, I don’t think we have properly met. I’ve been in and out of campus lately—with missions and such.” He practically skipped over to stand in front of you. He smiled brightly as he gently took your hands in his large, calloused ones. “I’m Izuku Midoriya. I’m so happy you are here at U.A.!” he excitedly exclaimed, lightly squeezing your entwined hands. You couldn’t hide your wince and small gasp of pain as Midoriya unknowingly squeezed your burns. The green-haired male let go of your hands so fast as if he was the one burned instead of you, eyes growing wide. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” he asked, noticing the bandages wrapped tightly around your hand. Midoriya’s frenzy caught the other's attention, and all eyes were on you yet again.
The tips of your ears grew hot at the unwavering attention from the Heroes-in-training—especially from a certain icy-hot male who made your heart falter in its beating. “Y-yeah, I’m f-fine.” You stuttered as you met each of your classmate's gazes, trying to reassure them of your stability.
“What happened?” Todoroki inquired, eyes hawkishly zeroed in on your face.
“U-um, well . . .” you trailed off, words fading from your brain as you slightly cowered under his unwavering attention. “I—”
“She burned herself while baking kinako cookies,” Sero spoke for you, having caught onto your growing anxiousness. You didn’t miss Todoroki’s eyes narrowing at the black-haired male’s words. Sato and Kaminari made noises of agreement, the blond absentmindedly rubbing his stomach in content.
Midoriya’s eyes shined. “Really? You did?!” He looked behind you to the kitchen, eyes searching for the aforementioned treats. “Where are they?” he asked when he didn’t spot any, only a plate littered with crumbs. He turned his attention back to you. You opened your mouth to answer, but a wave of shame overcame you as your eyes once again met those of the one you had made the cookies for.
Mina noticed your hesitation, giving you a knowing look as she answered for you. “The three idiots to your left ate them all,” she said with a little bite to her words, glaring daggers at the culprits. “After they were specifically told not to.” She reaffirmed. The boys shuddered at the reminder of their disobedience. The pinkette turned her attention back to the green-haired and dual-haired males. “I patched her up, though. The burns are minor.”
Midoriya nodded his head in understanding. “You should still see Recovery Girl,” he instructed, unashamedly expressing his concern for someone he had just properly met. “At least let her take a look at it.”
“I’m going to stop by to see her in the morning,” you reassured him, words coming back now that your mind was a little clear. His shoulders slumped in relief.
“You should rest, Y/N.” Todoroki’s searing gaze trailed over your form, calculating eyes searching for any additional outward signs of injury or discomfort. “After suffering an injury, no matter how insignificant, rest is important.” He softly chided.
“R-right.” You stammered out, at a loss for how else to respond to your handsome classmate's concern other than compliance. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at that moment. Your feet stumbled as you became lightheaded for a split second. You noticed the dual-haired male take a step towards you, catching onto your sudden exhaustion, but you quickly rightened yourself. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You’re not exactly sure why you thanked him, or what for. His concern, perhaps? He subtly nodded as you turned from the small group, breathlessly mumbling some sort of farewell and something about retiring to your room for the rest of the day.
The others muttered their goodbyes as you made your way to the stairwell.
As you walked up the stairs, head hung low, your throat began to burn and your vision began to blur with tears. The first one fell when you reached your floor, quickly followed by a couple more. You wiped them away, sniffing, as you made your way to your door. You didn’t react to the sudden presence next to you and the weight draped around your shoulders.
Mina didn’t say anything, only traced comforting circles into your back as tears flowed freely down your cheeks.
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The next day, you and your classmates were gathered outside Gym Gamma for an impromptu training session. You were surprised that Class 3-A still regularly trained together, but in your defense, that assumption came from someone who didn’t have many options when it came to sparing partners up until your transfer—a major shortcoming in retrospect.
“Today we are working on ‘last stand’ combat.” Mr. Aizawa drawled in his natural I Don’t Give A Fuck tone. “Close-quarter combat in which a violent assailant has obtained the upper hand and corners you in an attempt to defeat you.” He proceeded to explain the instructions of the training exercise and pair the students into groups of four who would take turns being the Heroes and the assailants.
“Midoriya will be with Jirou.” Mr. Aizawa intoned, briefly glancing at the two students to confirm they heard. “Todoroki will be with L/N.” Your muscles stiffened when you heard that. Your heart began to race as you watched the red-and-white-haired male make his way over to you.
“H-hi,” you greeted him, giving a soft smile.
“Hello,” he said, politely inclining his head. “I look forward to working with you.”
“Same here.” You said before facing forward once more as the first group began their round. You and Todoroki observed the match in silence, with you paying extra attention to your classmates’ movements and taking mental notes of how they incorporated their Quirks into hand-to-hand combat.
The sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention. Expecting the new additions to be Ochako and Asui, you turned to greet them with a warm smile but paused when instead of your friends, Midoriya and Kyoka Jirou were standing next to you, both with warm expressions on their faces.
“Hi!” Midoriya greeted with a wide smile and a small wave. “I’m excited for this training exercise! It’s going to be so cool to see everyone’s improvement with hand-to-hand combat over the break! And any new moves! Or Quirk Awakenings! Or—” You had a hard time keeping up with what he was saying as it turned into a stuttering rant as he went on about each individual’s Quirk.
The rumors were true regarding his ramblings, you mused to yourself, wondering how long he could go on for before a small hand on his shoulder made him take pause.
“Midoriya,” Jirou intoned. “Calm down.” His cheeks flushed a bright red. He began laughing nervously while absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck.
“S-sorry,” he said, shyfully.
“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I agree with your stance, though. Observing others' skills is an effective way to improve your own. Get an idea or two.” You turned your attention back to the ongoing training, taking mental notes of your classmates’ fighting stances and their defensive moves, trying to get a better understanding of the why behind them. You pulled a small item from your jacket pocket, absentmindedly rubbing it between your thumb and forefinger. The movement caught Midoriya’s attention.
“What is that?” he asked, green eyes alight with curiosity.
“What? This?” You held up your good luck charm; a small, pink parrot keychain from a popular cartoon series you had won years ago at one of your hometown’s summer festivals. It was lucky because at the moment, while little you were trying to win, your Quirk had manifested. “It’s my good luck charm,” you explained the pink parrot’s value to you.
“Oh, cool!” Midoriya exclaimed. “You know, I used to have a good luck charm—it was my super rare exclusive All Might trading card! First edition!” His eyes shined as he reminisced. “I would bring it with me everywhere! Even Kacchan—”
“Deku,” drawled a low voice from the other side of your gathered class. The temperature fell as Bakugou’s vermillion eyes narrowed onto Midoriya. “Don’t say another word.”
“He’s such a fanboy.” Jirou chuckled, fondness seeping into her voice. Midoriya smiled sheepishly, not bothering even to try to deny the label. You spent the time until your group’s turn getting to know the two, quickly finding out that you and Jirou share the same taste in music; vowing to swap playlists after class. You were so caught up in your conversation that you almost forgot about Todoroki's presence, if not for the awareness of a body next to you. His chilled warmth seeped into your muscles, causing you to relax one moment, and tense up another.
“Are you all right?” he softly inquired, spying your tensed posture.
“Yeah, I’m good.” You replied, softly smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Just a lil’ nervous, is all.”
Todoroki frowned slightly, not understanding how you could be experiencing anxiousness. “Wh—?”
“Oh yeah!” Midoriya suddenly interjected. “This is going to be your first time demonstrating your Quirk, huh?” he asked you. “Or at least this is gonna be the first time I will see it. What is it again? Object—no—um, yeah, anyway I bet it is awesome!” His eyes still shined with his enthusiasm and curiosity. “Sometime you gotta let me ask you about it! I have so many! Does it work like Ochako’s Zero Gravity? Or Yaoyorozu’s Creation?”
You couldn’t help but give a small laugh at his eagerness. You had never met someone as enthusiastic about Quirks as Izuku Midoriya. It was kind of refreshing to interact with someone as passionate as he was.
“Kind of,” you began, silently pondering over what you know of the brunette’s Quirk and comparing it to your own. “Ochako and I have the same limitations when it comes to the weight of an object, but besides that, our Quirks are different.” Your Quirk was object manipulation; you could telepathically manipulate objects within a certain range. To you, your Quirk wasn’t all that—wasn’t anything unique by any means—but to others, you were seen as a powerful goddess. “To be honest, I’m lacking in hand-to-hand combat skills.” You sheepishly smiled.
“Really?” Midoriya asked, blinking in shock. “I thought your previous school would have prepared you for all types of situations.” Jirou nodded her agreement with the green-haired male. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Shouto continue to observe you with a calculating expression on his face.
“Unfortunately, no.” You shrugged. “Their curriculum was more focused on improving the individual’s Quirk than learning how to fight without it.”
“Oh, wow,” Jirou said. “That could put you at a great disadvantage down the line.”
You nodded. “Yeah, I know. That’s why—” You were cut off by Mr. Aizawa calling for your group to begin your training round. “Welp, this is it, I guess.” You chuckled nervously.
Midoriya gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll do great!” he said, giving you a thumbs-up accompanied by a warm smile.
“Do your best,” Jirou added before moving towards the training pitch.
You started to follow, but a cool hand on your shoulder made you pause, shivering softly. You turned to find Todoroki giving you an expectant look. “You’ll do fine,” he said, confidently. He looked as if he put his entire faith in you. “I’ll be by your side the entire time.”
You felt a surge of confidence fill you at his words. You gave him a determined look. “Right,” you said. “We got this.”
You swear up and down his eyes twinkled when he looked at you, but it could have been a trick of the light. “You got this.” He replied, softly. The two of you walked into the pitch together, side by side.
The training went . . . not terrible, but it could have been better on your end.
Todoroki, Midoriya, and Jirou were amazing. Even without using their Quirks, they each were a force to be reckoned with. You were captivated by how swiftly they moved—as if they were ballerinas performing Danse des Petits Cygnes.
You weren’t on the same level as them and the rest of Class 3-A. You knew that, and you acknowledged it, but to see and be confronted by it so bluntly in person made you feel a whole other level of embarrassment and shame. You weren’t weak by any means, you could hold your own in a fight for some time, but not like your classmates could—and had.
Perhaps that is what separates you from your classmates. They have battle experience. Hell, they fought in a fucking war for crying out loud while you were on the other side of the country, guarding civilian shelters. You were fortunate not to see much bloodshed, but maybe that brought you to a disadvantage against these future Heroes surrounding you.
The horn had sounded as Jirou pinned you in the dirt for the sixth time, signaling the end of the round. You heard the sounds of Midoriya and Todoroki’s scuffling come to a halt from somewhere off to your left as Jirou lifted herself off of you. She offered you a hand as you began to rise from the ground. You accepted her extended hand with a grimace as the muscles in your back burned.
“Nice work.” Mr. Aizawa said as the four of you approached. “You performed adequately,” he addressed Jirou, Todoroki, and Midoriya. He turned to you. “You, not so much.”
You flinched as the words landed home. Damn, you thought, but he’s not wrong. You had naively allowed yourself to believe that Eraserhead wouldn’t call out your inferiority, at least in front of others. Then again, he was Eraserhead—infamous for his bluntness and apathy.
“Your skills are greatly lacking in hand-to-hand combat,” he continued. “I haven’t seen somebody so physically inadequate since your classmates were first years. Coming from another Hero Course, especially one with its reputation, it’s to be expected that you’re not up to par with your new classmates, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” As he spoke, he never broke eye contact with you, scrutinizing you. Even with one eye, his unrelenting gaze made you feel as if he could see every minuscule detail about you. “Based on the performance I saw today, it was a mistake to put you in this class.”
You heard a gasp from one of your classmates; its owner unknown. You gulped down your shame and remained silent. You had a feeling Aizawa wasn’t finished with you.
“From here on out, I expect you to train harder and push yourself further than anyone else. Extra training, extra classes—anything that will make you catch up.” His eye narrowed. “If I do not see substantial improvement in one month, you will be expelled. No exceptions.”
Your eyes widened, but your shock did not stop you from replying. “Yes, sir.” You said, keeping your tone neutral as you mulled over his words. Although extreme, I understand the reason for Mr. Aizawa’s methods, you thought. He’s right though. I’m far from even scrapping the level these guys are on. I need to be more disciplined and work even harder if I want to stand on equal ground with my classmates. Resolve made, you promised, “I will go Plus Ultra!”
“Yaass, Y/N!” Mina cheered. “Woohoo!”
Aizawa didn’t say anything else to you, promptly dismissing the class. Midoriya praised your performance and commented on his wish to sit down and talk in-depth with you regarding your Quirk. You promptly accepted his request, telling him you would let him know when you were free. He smiled before walking off to join Iida and Ochako.
“If it means anything,” a voice suddenly intoned from behind you. You spun around, having not sensed the person's approach. You weren’t all that surprised to find Todoroki there, softly regarding you. “I think you did well.”
You scoffed but smiled softly. “Thank you, but you don’t have to patronize me. I have a lot of work to do if I want to catch up.”
“You will,” he declared, before quickly clarifying, “Catch up. Especially with my help.”
You furrowed your brows. “Excuse me?”
“Should I repeat myself?” he inquired, his heterochromatic eyes swimming in mirth. “I will assist you in your training and classes.”
You didn’t respond right away, regarding him with suspicion. You waited for him to name a condition for his help, but when he offered none, you relaxed. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You inclined your head. “I greatly appreciate it.”
“Shouto,” he corrected.
You blinked at him, taken aback. “What?”
“Shouto,” he reiterated. “You may call me Shouto. We are friends, are we not?”
You gaped at him for a moment, processing his words. “Ye-yeah!” you said a little too loudly. “We are friends, Shouto.”
The small smile that graced his lips lit up your entire world and caused your heart to speed up, pounding almost painfully against your ribcage. “Meet me here tomorrow after class.” He instructed.
“Tomorrow.” You repeated in confirmation.
His smile grew a little wider. “See you then, Y/N.” He said before turning on his heel and strolling away. You watched him go in a daze, in disbelief of what just occurred.
“Oooooooo, Y/N’s gotta date!”
You shrieked at the sudden voice and spun around for a second time to find Mina standing there, hunched over laughing at your reaction.
“Mina!” you shrieked, placing a hand over your heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”
She continued to laugh. “Sorry,” she said once her laughter died down. “You were so entranced with Todoroki that you didn’t even realize I was here!”
“Oh, yeah right.” You responded, playfully rolling your eyes. The two of you began to walk to the dorm. “I wasn’t entranced with him.”
The pinkette gave you a look of disbelief, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah, sure,” she retorted. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you ain’t lying to me.”
You scoffed but didn’t attempt to refute her claims. You put your hands in your pockets and looked to the ground, lost in thought. Mina didn’t say anything else, allowing you both to walk in silence.
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The next afternoon, you met Shouto at the training grounds outside Gym Gamma for your first tutored training session. He regarded you kindly as you slowly approached, suddenly feeling quite bashful.
“Thank you for offering to do this, Shouto.” You said when you arrived. “It really means a lot. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”
“There’s no need for repayment.” He softly responded. “I volunteered to assist you. Therefore, no repayment of any sort is necessary.”
“Are you sure?” you asked. “I don’t want to inconvenience you—”
His soft call of your name made your next words die in your throat. “I assure you, this is fine.” He said. “Your company and attention are substantial enough.” You felt your face warm at his admission. Shouto gestured towards the training pit. “Shall we begin?”
He started by teaching you some stretches that are supposed to help decrease sudden muscle spasms and strengthen them. Afterward, he had you show him the little knowledge you had of hand-to-hand combat to gain an idea of where you stand in regard to U.A. training. Once you had demonstrated the few kicks and different styles of punching you knew, you turned to judge Shouto’s impression.
Your breath caught at what you saw.
His handsome features remained stoically blank for the most part, but the pursing of his lips and slight furrowing of his brows spoke a different tale. He grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like they didn’t prepare you at all, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure.
“Shouto?” you inquired, voice slightly uneven as your mouth formed the syllables of his name. “Is everything alright?”
His beautiful eyes snapped to yours, and once again you were frozen by the intensity with which he looked at you. His gaze was calculating, and you could just about see the cogs turning in his brain as he silently regarded you. A couple long moments later, his lips parted on an exhale and he finally addressed you.
“We have a lot of work to do.” He declared. “But we already knew that.” You slowly nodded your head, curious as to where he would be going with this conversation. “Thankfully, you’re not completely helpless,” he intoned dryly. “Even though you don’t have many skills regarding physical, non-Quirk combat, I have identified several places where we can start, correct, and then build on.”
You steadied yourself, resolve firmer than ever before. You declared, “I’m ready.”
Shouto gave a quick, but detailed, overview of his plans for your ‘training tutoring’, you referred to your sessions as. He was going to teach you everything he thought you should know—which was everything he knew—in order to successfully become a Hero people could rely on.
The two of you began by improving your physique. You joined him on his early morning run along with Midoriya and Bakugou, who welcomed you with contrasting fervor. When you met for your afternoon training, you would run five kilometers before learning various grades of combat moves, and then concluding your time together by sparring.
It was established early on that neither of you would use your Quirks during your tutoring as the two of you were well-adapted to your respective Quirks—and the strict rules regarding their usage.
For the next several weeks, you worked tirelessly on your training, and your dedication and hard work paid off. At your end-of-the-month assessment, Aizawa was pleased by your rapid and exceptional improvement and announced you could stay at U.A. He also informed you that it was never his intention to expel you in the first place, but nevertheless, he was impressed by your efforts.
You and Shouto continued to grow closer as time went by. You still had your training tutoring sessions in the afternoons, and you became a regular on his early morning runs. You even hung out outside of class and training; preparing pre-workout meals and drinks together, and various study sessions at all hours of the day and night. Once, you even packed him a small canister of his favorite brand of soba noodles for lunch one of the weekends he was interning at his father’s Agency. When he came back to the dorm after his shift, he made a beeline for you and promptly informed you that from then on out, you would be solely responsible for packing his lunches.
“Now why would I do that?” you implored. You crossed your arms, awaiting his response. “Are you gonna pay me?”
Shouto slowly blinked at you in the way a cat would. “Why would I compensate you for an action you chose to do?”
You had no retort for that.
As you spent more time together, you noticed some changes. Shouto would stare at you for seemingly no reason, and whenever you called him out on it, he feigned innocence. He also sought you out more often, insisting on walking to your next class or to and from the dorm by your side. He even began to occupy you on your shopping runs, dutifully holding your bags for you. And whenever you would thank or compliment him, his whole demeanor would light up as if Aphrodite herself had shown favor towards him.
You weren’t any better, though.
If Shouto would do so much as even blink in your general direction, your heart would soar and butterflies would take flight in your stomach. At first, you brushed it off as nerves for being the subject of the Shouto Todoroki’s attention, but you were in denial, not wanting to admit what was actually occurring. Looking back, you realized that deep down, you had known all along what was happening, but at the time, you weren’t ready to admit it—to yourself and him.
Regardless of your rebuttals and lack of admission, you were falling for your dual-haired classmate, hard and fast, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.
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3 months later . . .
“Y/N! It’s starting! You’re gonna miss it!” Ochako shouted from the couches, the other girls of Class 3-A surrounding her, all dressed in comfortable loungewear. It was the class's annual Girl’s Movie Night, which was held every couple of months. Tooru told you earlier that week that they would like to have it more often, like once a month, but given their hectic and ever-changing schedules, the girls had to settle for every few months. They took turns who got to pick out the movie. It was Mina’s turn this time. True to her nature, she selected an early 2000s chick flick set in the States.
“Hold on, wait for me!” you hollered back as you finished pouring the freshly popped popcorn into a large bowl, a few kernels spilling out as you whirled on your heels to sprint into the living area. You nearly tripped over Jirou’s legs as you practically threw yourself towards the last remaining free spot on the couch.
“Ah, sorry!” you exclaimed as you settled yourself into the cushions, checking over Jirou and your popcorn bowl. “Did I miss anything?”
“No, it’s just starting,” Momo said, taking a sip from her cup of tea as the opening credits began to roll.
“Ooh, this is one of my all-time favorite movies!” Mina squealed next to you. “Have you ever seen it before?” she asked.
You hummed, acknowledging her question. You thought hard, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen the characters on the screen before. “I’m not sure,” you said. “I don’t think so.”
The pinkette gasped aloud and theatrically placed a hand on her chest, sprawling backward. “Y/N! You wound me!”
Across the room, Tooru piped up from her spot next to Asui. “How could you not have?! It’s only one of the greatest movies ever made!”
“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Ochako interjected. “Gonna have to disagree.” You expected them to start arguing back and forth over what is truly the greatest movie ever made, like your friends back home would have done, but they don’t. Mina stuck her tongue out at Ochako before turning back to the movie.
You all watched the movie in relative silence, save for the light background noise of popcorn moving around in a bowl and slurping from a now-empty straw. It was nice, peaceful; a well-deserved and appreciated respite from the grinding hustle of being Pro-Heroes-in-training.
“Just confess already!” Jirou shouted at the screen as the main character allowed another opportunity for them to confess their feelings for their classmate slip through their fingers. “Gosh!” A corner of your mouth curled at her irritation. A few grumbles of agreement sounded from the others as the movie continued playing.
You had to stifle your laughter as the main characters continued to pine after one another, completely oblivious to the other’s growing feelings. I can’t believe there are actually people in the world who are like them, you silently mused. It’s so obvious they like each other. I can’t believe they don’t see it.
“Ugh, the anticipation and pining is killing me!” Tooru cried out, her slippers moving frantically in the air as she kicked her legs.
Asui raised a brow. “I thought you’ve seen this movie before?”
“Well, yeah, I have,” the invisible female said. “But the suspense still gets to me!”
“It is quite intense.” Ochako agreed. “I hope they confess soon. It hurts to see them think the other doesn’t return their feelings.”
“I don’t understand how they cannot.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. The girls turned to look at you as you continued, “I mean, they’re so obvious.”
“Yeah, it’s kinda annoying at this point,” Jirou mumbled.
Mina snickered. “Y/N, as if you’re one to talk.”
You gave her a questioning look, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, come on. You’re so obvious, too, with your crush—”
You cut her off, “I do not have a crush.”
“You have a crush?” Asui asked. You and Mina responded at the same time.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, she does.”
“What is this about?” Momo inquired, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie.
“Nothi—” you began but was swiftly interrupted by the pinkette next to you.
“Y/N has a crush on Todoroki!”
The girls gasped and gapped at you, eyes wide.
“I do not!” You said, face burning as you tried to mitigate the situation. “We’re not like that!”
“Oh my.” You thought you heard Momo say under her breath, but you couldn’t really hear since Tooru started shrieking with glee.
“You guys would be the cutest couple!” she exclaimed, jumping up from her spot on the couch and racing over to pull you into a tight embrace.
“I mean, it does make sense given they spend so much time together.” Ochako mused, a finger on her chin as she considered the situation.
Asui jumped on the bandwagon with, “Oh they are definitely into each other.”
“One hundred percent,” Mina agreed.
“Girl, you gotta spill the tea!” Tooru exclaimed as she pulled away. “Tell us everything!” The others voiced their agreement.
“I do admit, I am curious as to how this relationship came to be,” Momo vocalized, setting her tea cup down onto its saucer. “That is if the two of you have gotten that far into your companionship.”
You blinked at the midnight-black-haired woman, shock clouding your brain for a moment as you processed her words. “Um, n-no. We aren’t in any type of r-romantic relationship.” You clarified, but immediately you could tell certain people thought your answer was complete horse poop. “We aren’t!”
“Regardless, you guys are pretty close,” Ochako interjected. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”
Jirou nodded in agreement. “And all the extra training you do together.”
“The early morning runs,” Asui added.
“Okay, okay,” you threw your hands up in a placating manner. “I understand what you guys are trying to get at, but you’re wrong.”
Mina came to stand beside you, giving you a knowing look. “Girl, Y/N,” she began. “You can try with all your might to deny it, but it’s obvious what is really going on between you and Shouto.” She placed a delicate hand on your shoulder. “And I know you know it, too.”
You stared at the pinkette, pondering her and the other’s words. You wanted to continue denying what they were saying, but you were getting tired of denying your feelings to yourself. You slumped your shoulders, the tension leaving your body as you resolved to come clean with the truth—to yourself and your friends, besides a certain dual-haired male. “Alright, fine.” You let out a heavy sigh, mentally preparing yourself for their reaction to your next statement. “I like him a little.” You confessed, looking at the floor, too afraid to meet any of their gazes.
The room was dead silent for two breaths before Mina erupted in choking laughter. “’A little’? Yeah RIGHT!” She laughed so hard that tears began to stream down her pink cheeks. After she managed to calm down a bit, she turned to face you fully, laying a hand on your knee. “Girl, you’re lying to yourself.” She told you, tone light yet serious. “We have all seen the way you look at Shouto—” the others nod in confirmation. “—and your eyes tell it all.”
You flinched as embarrassment flooded you. “Is it really that obvious?” you asked. You turned to the others to gauge their reactions. “Am I?” They all nodded.
“Definitely.”
“For sure.”
“We could see it from a mile away.”
You gasped. “Oh my,” you covered your face with your hands. “Do you think Shouto knows?”
“I doubt so,” Momo said. “Shouto is quite intelligent and a formidable force to be reckoned with, but as I’m sure you’re aware, his experience and understanding of social concepts and cues are fairly limited.”
“In other words,” Jirou interjected. “He’s none the wiser.”
You released a sigh of relief. At least he doesn’t think I’m a psycho stalker or something.
“Hey, give him some credit, guys,” Ochako remarked. “Todoroki’s more aware than he’s given credit for.”
“Moving on,” Mina said. “Have you thought about confessing your feelings to him?”
You crossed your arms over your chest, shamefully looking away. “No. . .”
“What?!”
“Really?!” Tooru shouted. “But he’s so hot!” The sleeves of her shirt crossed in front of her. “I would do anything to be his girlfriend.”
You laughed. “While you are correct about his handsomeness, I don’t even know where I would begin or how I would confess.”
“Your feelings are valid, Y/N,” Asui assured you. “Confessing one’s feelings for another is a life-changing occurrence.”
“You gotta do it before graduation in a couple months, though,” Ochako added. “If not, then you may never get another chance to do so.”
“Why do you say that?” you asked. “As Pros, wouldn’t we work together often? Why does it need to be before we graduate and turn Pro?”
“Possibly, but with our chosen line of work, there is always a possibility. . .” she trailed off with a grimace.
You understood immediately. “Oh.”
“Although rare in the line of duty, it does happen.” Momo said. “I wouldn’t worry about that though, but I agree with Ochako.”
“Plus,” Mina began, mischief glowing in her eyes. “If the two of you get together before you make your Pro Hero debut to the world, you wouldn’t have to worry about him falling in love with some random civilian he rescues on the street or another Pro.”
You nodded. “You have a point.”
“Either way, I think it will all work out in the end,” Ochako said, her cheeks widening with her smile. “I think perhaps Shouto returns your feelings, and just simply doesn’t know what to do about them or how to address them, therefore you should tell him.” The other girls voiced their agreement.
“Yeah, it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture or anything,” Jirou said.
“Just be honest with him, Y/N,” Asui said.
“Yeah, girl,” Mina added, giving you a warm smile when you met her gaze. “You got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”
You squared your shoulders as a burst of confidence filled you thanks to the encouragement you received from your friends. “Okay, I will!” you loudly announced. “I will confess my feelings to him!”
The others cheered as you all held up your lemon water in a faux toast. In your happiness, none of you noticed the shadows shift in the stairwell and the soft noise of retreating footsteps on the wood.
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You were screwed.
“How am I gonna tell him!?” you mewled aloud a couple of days later in the cafeteria. You dramatically slumped your forehead on the tabletop, mentally kicking yourself for allowing the girls to convince you that confessing your crush would be an easy endeavor. You felt a reassuring pat on your shoulder. Groaning, you lifted your head from the table to shoot puppy eyes at Ochako. “Ochako, help me!” you cried. “How do I confess?”
The brunette gave you a sheepish smile. “I don’t know, Y/N.” She professed, her eyes apologetic. “Proclaiming one's love for another isn’t really my strong suit.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Asui mumbled under her breath before taking a sip of her drink, receiving a glare in response.
“Y/N, sweetie,” Mina cooed from your other side. “I think you’re overthinking it a little. It shouldn’t be but so hard. Just be honest with him!”
“But that is hard!” you said, waving your hands in the air. “I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘hey, Shouto, I think you’re really hot and amazing. Wanna go out with me?’”
“Sure you can,” Momo intoned, trying to reassure you. “Maybe not in those exact words, but when the time comes, you will know what to say.”
“I hope so,” you sighed, slumping your shoulders. “I hope so.”
As time passed, you found that you did not, in fact, know what to say when the time came to confess your feelings to Shouto Todoroki. Whenever you were near him, you became tongue-tied and could barely speak without becoming a stuttering mess. During each interaction, Shouto would give you a long, confused look, his eyebrows drawn downwards as he watched you struggle for words. He wouldn’t comment on it, bless him, but he must’ve thought you to be a total weirdo.
Yet, he still accompanied you on the walk back to the dorm every day after classes ended, and he insisted on continuing your training sessions every weekend after he finished his shift at Endeavor’s Agency. The two of you grew closer, to your absolute delight, and yet you still hadn’t managed to work up the courage to confess your feelings to him.
Until one day . . .
You were sitting in homeroom during free period, chatting with Midoriya about the latest episode of the rebooted All Might: The Mightiest Man TV series.
“I’m telling you, Midoriya,” you said. “It doesn’t matter how much the animation and special effects have improved, the original will always be better than the reboot.” You crossed your arms and lounged back in your chair, waiting for the forest green-haired male to start sputtering his counterargument. “You can’t change my mind. I will die on this hill.”
“Are you seriously sayin—?”
A call of your name from a familiar tenor drew your attention. You turned towards the source to meet a pair of heterochromatic eyes. Shouto was making his way to your desk, coming to a stop right in front of you. You had to tilt your head back in order to maintain eye contact. After a moment, he turned his attention to Midoriya next to you. “Pardon me, Midoriya, but I need to speak to Y/N in private.”
You and Midoriya gaped at the dual-haired male for a good twenty seconds before you slowly rose from your seat. “O-okay.” You turned to face your green-haired companion. You hoped your eyes were conveying your inner panic as you said, “Midoriya, I’ll be back.”
All he could do was nod as he watched you follow behind Shouto, wondering why you looked so panicked to go with the male. Maybe you were constipated.
As Shouto led you toward the classroom door, Ochako and Mina shot you curious glances. When you met their gazes, they gave you a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, respectfully.
“Good luck, girl!” Mina whisper-shouted.
“You got this, Y/N,” Ochako said. You tried to match her comforting smile with your own, but it didn’t reach your eyes.
You followed behind the dual-haired male, silently wondering what was going on. Once you were outside the classroom, he led you down the hallway to a little corner nook bathed in the golden light of the afternoon.
“Shouto, is everything okay?” you asked, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. “Is something wrong?” At your inquiry, he finally came to a stop in front of a set of windows and turned to face you.
“Yes, everything is fine.” He reassured you. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”
You blinked. “Okay,” you said. “Shoot.”
Shouto likewise paused at your usage of unfamiliar slang but didn’t comment on it. “Um,” he started, but drifted off, not finishing the thought. He opened his mouth only to shut it again after a moment or two without making a sound. You furrowed your brows as you continued to watch him struggle for words.
“Um, Sho?” you prodded. He didn’t respond, however, still thinking over his next words. Shouto never hesitates, you thought with a mixture of wonderment and anxiety. Is something bothering him? you thought with growing concern. You felt your heart come to a skittering stop as another horrifying conclusion came to mind; am I the problem?
“I overheard you and the other girls’ conversation on Movie Night,” he confessed at last, interrupting your spiraling train of thought. He bashfully looked away as if he was ashamed.
“Oh, okay?” you responded, absentmindedly going through the events of the night in question. Your heartbeat began to calm down to a normal rate. “What conversation?” You couldn’t think of anything in particular and were about to ask him to elaborate before the realization hit you like a freight train.
“I like him a little.”
“Okay, I will! I will confess my feelings to him!”
“Yeah, girl, you got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”
Oooohhhhh.
Fuck.
Maybe he didn’t hear that particular part of the conversation! You tried to reassure yourself as you waited for Shouto to answer your question. Your heart rate picked back up as panic began to settle in. We were there for several hours. There is so much he could’ve—
“You have an admiration going on.” You hate to admit you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before his formal wording translated into modern speech. You have a crush.
FUCK!
“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” you rushed out, trying to save face and whatever friendship you had with Shouto. You felt your cheeks burn. “Please, just forget you ever heard that!”
Shouto snapped his head to you as your words registered in his brain. “Why would I do that?” he asked after a moment. “We live in the same building with shared living space, barely anything is not overheard by another.”
Oh God, how much did he overhear?
“Besides,” he continued. “At our age, it is completely natural for one to harbor feelings for another.”
You blinked at him as his words registered, your cheeks now tingling due to the burn. Gosh, he sounds like a grandpa giving the birds and the bees talk.
“It—it’s j-just,” you stammered. “I-I-I—” You let out a harsh breath in frustration when your words continued to fail you. Shouto raised a brow before his eyes narrowed. Your heart sank when you saw that.
Oh great, he’s annoyed!
“Are you all right?” he asked before moving so he was right in front of you. You squeaked at the sudden warmth of his body heat as he placed a hand on your forehead. “Do you feel ill? You feel warm, and your face looks to be flushed with some perspiration gathering on your forehead.” His eyes frantically looked you up and down as he examined you for any further signs of sickness. “I should get you to Recovery Girl.”
“N-no!” you exclaimed when he went to sweep you off your feet. “Sh-Shouto, I—I’m fine, really. I’m n-not s-sick.”
“Oh?” Shouto blinked in confusion and, adorably, subtly tilted his head to the side. “Then why are you so febrile? And you are stuttering?”
“It’s not because I am sick. I’m just em-embarrassed.” You whispered the last part, and you couldn’t help but look away from Shouto in shame.
“Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed, Y/N?” You shut your mouth, refusing to speak. Shouto sensed your hesitation. The light slowly left his heterochromatic eyes and he bashfully looked away from you. “Is . . . is it because you don’t want to be seen with me?” he asked. “For fear that your crush will see us together and not return your affection?”
You let out a gasp in surprise. “What? No!” You are quick to reassure him—your actual crush—of your intentions. “That’s not it at all!”
Shouto met your gaze again. His eyes lit up with what looked like . . . anticipation? Hope? You weren’t sure, but your heart began to race in trepidation. “Then what is it?”
“I like you,” you blurted out. You shut your eyes and covered your face with your hands, trying to hide from your drowning embarrassment. “Like, not even a little bit, but, like, really, really like you.” You whispered from behind your hands.
There was no immediate response from the dual-haired male. You didn’t dare to remove your hands from your face to check if he was still standing in front of you.
He probably didn’t hear me. You internally slapped yourself upside the head.
Before you could react, Shouto was carefully removing your hands from your face. His touch was gentle, like he was afraid you would crack and break under his fingertips. “Why are you hiding from me?” he whispered. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him.
“I—I.” Despite your efforts, words weren’t able to come out of your mouth.
“You should never feel like you need to hide,” he continued. He let out an airy tsk before he reached his hand up and gently tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear. You felt your face heat up even more at the action. “Especially from me.”
What.
“W-what?” you voiced aloud. You blinked a couple times, trying to bring your brain back from the brink of short-circuiting.
Shouto chuckled lowly, moving impossibly closer into your space. “I think you need to get your hearing checked out, love.”
You blinked some more. “What?”
“Have I broken you?” he asked, the corner of his perfect lips turning up at the thought. “First you forget your words, and now you have lost your hearing. . .” he trailed off as he continued to stare intently into your eyes.
What is he playing at. . .? you wondered as you blankly stared at him.
The two of you stood there and took each other in for quite a while. In reality, it mustn’t have been for very long—at most a minute and a half—but to you, it felt like hours. You were so close you could see the light reflecting in his heterochromatic eyes and the small streaks of gray in the turquoise-colored one.
“I . . . like you, too,” Shouto suddenly confessed, violently snapping you out of the daze his proximity causes. “I have harbored feelings for you for some time now.”
WHAT!?
“You . . . do?” you asked, skeptical. You were hesitant to believe his words in fear that this whole thing was some sick prank. But—
No. Shouto isn’t that type of person, you thought. He barely understands humor as it is, so he must be telling the truth.
“I do,” he confirmed.
“Oh, um.” You fumbled again for words, embarrassment flooding your entire system once more. You licked your dry lips, missing the way Shouto’s eyes locked onto the movement. “Cool.”
Shouto blinked at you, one of his perfect eyebrows raising. “Cool?” he repeated with a sly smile overcoming his lips.
“Mhm.” You dumbly nodded. “Cool.” You paused before muttering a small, “Ditto.”
He chuckled again, subtly moving the tiniest bit closer to you. He was just about crowding you into the corner at this point. “Ditto, huh?” He mumbled under his breath with a widening smirk playing at his lips. “I think I have broken you, dear.”
You grinned. “Perhaps.” Shouto chuckled again before falling silent. The two of you stared at the other, lost in each other’s gazes.
“Can I kiss you?” He spoke on an exhale, his deep voice somehow even deeper. Before you could internally flip the fuck out and fully comprehend what was happening, you were already nodding. That was all the confirmation Shouto needed before he brought your lips in for a sensual kiss. Fireworks exploded behind your eyelids as you relaxed into him.
You smiled into the kiss. Thank you, chopsticks.
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The next day, you and Shouto walked into the classroom holding hands. Everyone collectively stopped what they were doing to openly gape at the two of you as Shouto, always the gentleman, escorted you to your seat. The shocked silence lasted all but three seconds before Mina and Tooru let out ear-piercing shrieks and practically tackled you.
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Mina was shouting meanwhile Tooru was holding onto you so tight to the point that she was nearly crushing you into her invisible body.
“AHHHH, I knew this was gonna happen!” she exclaimed before somehow pulling you in closer.
“Can’t . . . breathe.” You wheezed out before your boyfriend pulled you away from the two fangirls and protectively held you to his chest.
“I would be grateful if you didn’t crush my girlfriend to death, Tooru.” He intoned in his naturally dry tenor. His statement only made them freak out even more.
“Ah! Look at the two love birds!” Ochako swooned.
“Fuckin’ disgustin’,” grumbled a deep voice from somewhere in the back of the room.
Before you could turn to shoot Bakugou a death glare, Shouto was already clapping back. “What, are you jealous, Bakugou?”
The desks which had surrounded the blond a moment prior were blown to shiverines.
“I’LL END YOU!”
Fin.
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→ extras: snapshot 1, snapshot 2, fic tag
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No plagiarizing, re-uploading, translating, or copying of any kind or on any platform of my writing or inserted into any type of AI generator. Do not recommend my work on TikTok. Do not repost on YouTube.
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yeonzzzn · 2 months
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🖤won’t give up on us: sim jaeyun
part three of the off limits trilogy
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pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 17.1k
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synopsis: your relationship with jake has been better than ever. almost two years have passed since moving in with your brother, heeseung, sunghoon and jake, what’s even better is everyone finally graduated college. but with the new freedom of your adult life, other challenges make their way into your relationship.
genre: established relationship, older brother’s best friend!au, smut, fluff
warnings: swearing, multiple unprotective sex scenes, breeding kink, hair pulling, oral (m. & f. receiving), fingering, cum eating, alcohol, masturbating, some tags will be hidden due to not spoiling the story, MINORS DNI. lmk if I missed anything ♡
✰ this is part three to this trilogy, please see part one and two under the title before reading this one. ✰
˗ˏˋseries spotify playlist´ˎ˗
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In the blink of an eye, almost two years have flown by. 
Your relationship with Jake was now stronger, harder to penetrate or break. You still had fights, but never again like what happened when you broke up. 
You, yourself even felt stronger coming out of that dark place you were in. Shaping a better heart that you were able to hand to Jake. And he did the same for you. 
Everything on campus was different now. You and Jake both had eyes on you, yes. But Stella and her bitch squad never once spoke to you or even Jake again. You’ve walked past them on campus, she’ll give you a dirty look and you’ll respond with your middle finger. 
Jake even came around with Shotaro, getting to know him better, and to his surprise, was trying to hang out with him more than you. 
But one by one, everyone finally graduated college, leaving your graduation in two weeks. 
Except you didn’t think you’d make it to graduation. 
You lay on the couch in the living room, coughing up your lungs and sweat rolling down every inch of your body. How could you have gotten sick two weeks before graduation? 
“I’m actually going to die,” you mumbled. 
Your brother sat on the floor beside your head, dabbing a cool wet washcloth on your forehead, a mask covering his face. With a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head, he responded, “You have a terrible case of the flu, you aren’t dying.” 
The three stooges stood at the end of the couch, masks also on their faces as they watched Jay take care of you. 
“Doctor said you’ll be better next week, ya?” Jake said, reaching down and massaging your legs through the blanket covering your body, “Just continue taking your meds and you’ll be better soon.” 
You knew they were all right, but you chose to be dramatic anyway, “I’m dying!” 
Jay covered your face with the cool washcloth, “Shut up, Stinks.” 
Usually, you’d fight him on the nickname, but right now all you wanted was rest. 
Heeseung and Sunghoon took every opportunity to tease you. Heeseung would walk into the living room with a can of Febreze, spraying it as he walked past you to get to the kitchen. Sunghoon would walk by holding his index fingers into an X. You’d just respond either with your middle finger in the air or sitting up and fake coughing at them, making the boys scramble away in a hurried fashion. 
But as they all said you recovered just in time to finish up the rest of your classes for the semester and walk the stage to get your diploma. 
Jake has never looked more proud in his life watching as you crossed that stage and officially started the next chapter in your life. He had actual tears streaming down his face. 
Jay was even worse of a mess. Has snot rolling out his nose and ugly crying and everything. 
“Jongseong,” you snorted at seeing the state your older brother was in, embracing him into a tight hug as he continued to cry into your shoulder. 
“You’re all grown up, I can’t believe it. I remember when you were just a baby,” 
Your father forced Jay off you, so he and your mother could also embrace you in a hug. 
Heeseung and Sunghoon were next in line for a hug, and then there was Jake for last. 
You stared into his eyes, smiling so wide as he pulled you into a kiss, “I am so proud of you, my love.” 
“It’s all because of you,” which is true. If it weren’t for Jake or even your brother, you wouldn’t have moved in with them and graduated with their help. You were thankful for all four boys. 
Shotaro even made his way through the crowd to pull you into a hug, “You killed it, princess!” 
At one point, your eyes would drift off to Jake to see him cringe at the nickname Shotaro has given you, but over the last few years, it doesn’t bother him, Jake just stands there with his puppy dog eyes and smile, joining the hug with you and your best friend, “She did! Didn’t she!!” Jake said, nuzzling his head between you and Shotaro, “Our girl did so well!!” 
You blushed at all the compliments and love you were getting, you’d be a liar if you said you hated it all. 
Jay threw a party for you that night. Granted it was just the five of you, along with Taro and Sunghcan, but it still felt great to be surrounded by the people you loved the most. 
Everyone sat in the kitchen and living room, talking and drinking away. Jake wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling your body closer to him. His eyes traced down the side of your face and down to his necklace that even after all these years still stayed wrapped around your neck. His eyes moved down to your breasts and the way they peeked out over the drop of the dress you wore for your graduation. 
Jake felt his pants tighten, his mind wandering to the thoughts of your tits in his hands, tongue shoved down your throat and dick pushing in and out of you. His hand gripped the beer can, biting his lower lip. 
Normally, Jake would wait to dick you down once company has left, but since everyone is drunk and in no way going home tonight…
Fuck it. 
“Hey,” he whispered in your ear so seductively that it sent chills down your spine. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was Jake wanted. With the way his lips brushed your ear and hand tightened at your waist. It made you soaked on the spot. 
You leaned into him, “Hmm?” 
He softly chuckled, “You look so sexy right now,” 
Your eyes wander around to your brother and then your friends, seeing them all too interested in whatever card game some of them were playing at the table and whatever game the rest were playing on the Nintendo Switch. No one would even realize you’d two be gone. The music was playing loud enough in the apartment that they wouldn’t be able to hear anything anyway. They were too drunk to realize anything really. 
You shifted, pressing your body to his, feeling his cock hard against your stomach, your breast pressing to his chest, making him hiss, mouth practically drooling over you. 
“Keep acting up and I’ll press that pretty face of yours into the pillows in our bed.” 
You stood on your tip toes and gave him a quick kiss, “What else would you do to me? Hmm?” 
Jake’s head was spinning. Oh, the things he wanted to do to you. The way he’d do them. Fuck. 
He took the beer can from your hands, setting it down on the counter beside his, lips touching your ear again, “I’d have you screaming my name while I fuck that sweet cunt of yours until I’m spilling into you.” 
It’s all you had to hear before taking his hand and leading him to your shared bedroom, Jake closing and locking the door behind you. 
You didn’t even have time to turn around, have time to kiss him let alone touch him. Jake threw you into the bed face first, one hand on the back of your neck and he pushed your face deeper into your pillows. 
Your pussy was clenching already, feeling your slit pooling in your panties. Hands gripping the bedsheets. You turned your head slightly, looking Jake in the eyes, seeing nothing but desperation behind them, so lust-filled. 
Jake’s cock was twitching against his pants, so angry and begging to be set free. With his free hand, he lifted your hips up higher, arching your back. 
“You look so pretty like this,” he whispered, sliding his hand from your neck down your back and resting at your hips with his other hand, “Don’t move pretty, be a good girl for me, ya?” 
You nodded, biting your lips. You wanted to beg him, wanting to feel his hands everywhere and his dick deep inside you. But with the way he was right now, you knew Jake would either take his time and enjoy the way you were in front of him, or get right to fucking into you. 
Jake lifted your dress up and over your ass, bunching it at your hips, releasing a hiss, “Fuck YN,” he groaned, seeing how soaked your panties already were, “Want my cock that badly?” 
You nodded again, “Jakey please,” you wiggled your hips, Jake’s hands immediately gripping your ass and squeezing tightly. 
“I said don’t move,” he growled. 
You stayed still, listening to the sound of his shirt, jeans, and boxers hitting the floor. Jake glances down at his angry cock, pulsing and red. His precum dripped down the side of the tip, aching to find its home inside your pussy. 
He pulled your panties down, letting out a “Fuck,” at seeing your juices creating a string connecting to your paints, “You’re so fucking wet for me baby,” He lifted your legs one by one to pull the laced fabric off you, flinging it somewhere into the abyss of the room, then rolling your dress completely off your body, shoving your face back into the pillows. 
Seeing you this wet drove him insane. Watching your cunt clench around nothing, waiting so patiently for him to fill you up. 
Jake shoved two fingers inside you, ears ringing from the pleasured moans that left your mouth, scooping your wetness from you and bringing it down to his cock, rubbing it up and down his shaft. Jake suppressed the moan he wanted to let out as he pumped himself a couple of times, then adjusted himself up to your pussy, wasting no more time and shoving inside. 
Your jaw went slack as he filled you up, his hand pushing your face even further into the pillows, the fabric now in your mouth. 
Jake fucked into you hard, his hips snapping back and forth as if his life depended on it. Fingers gripping your hips tightly, surely to leave bruises in the morning. 
“Fuck, baby,” he finally moaned out, “You feel so fucking good. Fuck,” 
You were screaming into the pillows from the pleasure, chanting his name with each thrust. Your head was spinning, seeing stars. 
“You know how proud I am of you baby?” he said, fingers now wrapping in your hair, pulling you up, his chest now pressed to your back, “You’re the smartest person I know. So proud. You deserve this dick, don’t you baby?” 
You nodded, “Fuck yes Jaeyun and you’re being such a good boy giving it to me like this.” 
Jake fucked into you harder, “Yeah? I’m your good boy huh? Dicking you down so hard and fast, being so good taking me like this.” 
You reached up behind you, hands finding their way into Jake’s hair and pulling, “Fuck baby,” he practically screamed, “I’m going cum so hard if you keep it up,” 
And you did, tangling your fingers even more into his hair as you pulled with all your might, Jake’s thrusts getting sloppier. 
“No way I’m cumming before you,” he growled into your ear, his hand at your hip sliding between your legs, fastly circling his fingers on your clit, “Cum for me first baby, then I’ll breed this sweet cunt.” 
You moaned out his name, pulling even harder at his hair. 
You and Jake were filled with so much pleasure, both growing more sensitive at each other's touches. It took everything in Jake to not cum right here right now, using every bit of willpower he had to hold back from painting your walls with his seed. 
But Jake couldn’t hold on much longer, his will slipping. But you beat him to it, your climax rushing you so fast as you came around his dick, “Oh fuck,” he moaned, “M’cumming baby, going to breed you, fuck, fuck. Cumming, I’m cumming.” 
His hot cum filled you, his hips snapping into place against your ass, hands pulling you down onto him, making sure every ounce of cum spilled into you. 
Both your bodies shaking, Jake laid you down on the bed, his body gently laying on top of you, dick still inside. 
He rubbed his thumb against your jaw, placing soft kisses on your neck, “I love you. Fuck I love you so much.” 
You tilted your head, catching his lips with yours, “I love you so much too my sweet, sweet Jake.” 
You leaned your elbows to the table, fingers rubbing your temples. The room felt like it was spinning and that you were about to puke up your lunch and coffee that Shotaro just bought you. 
“YN? Princess?” he called you by your nickname, snapping his fingers in front of your face until you looked up at him, “Everything okay?” 
You just shook your head, “I feel like death.” 
Taro leaned back into his chair, taking a sip of his coffee, “You look like death too.” 
You roll your eyes, “Jeez, thanks Taro.” 
Shotaro just chuckled, the jazz music playing in the background of the coffee shop you frequent was soothing and relaxing. How could you feel like shit when this amazing music is filling your ears? 
You dropped your face into your palms, “I can’t really be getting sick again.” 
Shotaro started thinking, “Didn’t you have the flu last time?” you nodded, “Did you change out your toothbrush and get more toothpaste? Did Jake change out all that as well? What about Hee, Hoon, and Jay?” 
That was way too many questions for your brain to process, but you continued to nod anyway, “Yes to all that. Jay made sure everyone changed out everything and washed every blanket and sheets in the apartment.” 
“Do all five of you really just share food and drinks like that?” 
You shrug, “I’m siblings with one, grew up with them all and dating one of them, and been living with them for almost two years. I don’t think there is such a thing as not sharing in that apartment.” 
Taro just nodded, “And I know they didn’t get sick after you did.” 
You just nod again, too winded to even speak. 
Shotaro just kept running through everything in his head, the people who’ve been sick after or before you were before graduation. Hell, even Shotaro changed out toothbrush and toothpaste after he found out you had the flu. He wasn’t taking chances and you’ve eaten after each other a couple of times. 
But the more Taro tried to wrap his mind around it the more it hurt his brain, his own headache forming. The only thing he can see how you got sick is from passing some random stranger who was sick or…
Wait. 
“When was the last time you had sex with Jake?” 
You glance up at your best friend, narrowing your eyes, “You need to be more specific, we have sex all the time.” 
Taro bit down every ounce of nerves he had and begged you with his eyes to forgive the questions he was about to ask, “I mean, when was the last time he…you know…” 
You raised a brow, “Every time? I am on the pill,” you just stared at your best friend, “Taro what are you getting at?” 
He started playing the timeline in his head, from the moment you got sick with the flu, to graduation, and to now. If what he’s thinking is true…then. 
“It’s been about, what? six-seven weeks since you’ve graduated?” You nod, “Did you and Jake have sex that night?” 
You nod again but this time more confused and getting kinda angry that Shotaro was putting his nose into your sex life, “Taro, what does my sex life with Jake have any—“ 
And then it hit you. 
“It would make sense…” Taro whispered.
“But it can’t be?” you pull your hair back out of your face, eyes glued to your iced coffee on the table, watching as the ice floated more to the top. 
“YN, last question,” he took a deep breath, “What medication did they put you on for the flu? And does it affect taking birth control?” 
You just stared up at him. Every piece of the puzzle falls into place. 
The medication the doctors gave you to treat your flu would have countered your birth control pill, and since you were sick and obviously not having sex you skipped the pills until you took the last bit of medicine to treat the flu before taking them again. And the last day of your medicine for the flu was…two days after you graduated. 
Your eyes widened, “Holy shit.”
Shotaro sighed, “Yeah, holy shit,” and took another sip of his coffee, “You could be pregnant.” 
Jake sat at his work desk, eyes reading over the article on the new software his company was planning on launching within the next couple of months. His boss leaves Jake to take on the project alone to fix all the major issues with it. 
He leans back into his chair, thumbs rubbing over his eyes from staring at the computer screen for too long. 
Why did he choose software development out of everything he could have when it came to his major? Guess it’s too late now to change it. 
Jake can’t complain though, he makes BANK and the job comes so easy to him too. Plus he works the typical nine-five Monday-Thursday having Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off to do whatever he wants. Plus his co-workers and boss are great people. He has it made here. 
Jake’s mind gets taken off the article by his phone vibrating in multiple texts. 
Jay: did you piss off my sister?  Jay: because she just busted down the apartment door before storming off into your bedroom, paced around for like ten minutes before leaving the apartment again. 
Jake sighed, rubbing his eyes again. 
Jake: not that I know of… Jake: I haven’t spoken to her since this morning when I left for work. She was supposed to be with Taro today Jay: She just came back, seemed calmer this time tho. She has a grocery bag, guess she needed snacks?
Jake tossed his phone onto the desk, going back to the article. As much as he loves you and his best friend, whatever attitude problem you have right now, Jay could deal with or he would deal with when he gets back home. Jake tried to think of anything he could have done to upset you, but not thinking of a single thing. 
Jay: she’s pacing again.  Jay: well now she locked herself up in the bathroom.  Jake: dude, she’s your little sister. deal with it? Jay: your girlfriend tho buddy. you deal with it.  Jake: …I am working.  Jay: I’ve never seen her act like this before. something is wrong. 
Jake looked at the time, he was off in an hour. He texted Jay back saying he’ll talk to you once he’s home and left it at that. Jake had half a mind to call Shotaro and bug him about what happened. You seemed fine earlier besides a small headache. 
The clock ticked and chimed once it hit four o’clock, Jake jumped from his seat after shutting his PC down and practically skipping out of the building. 
He couldn’t make it home fast enough, his mind was only on you and if you were okay. He called Jay the minute he got off work for an update and he said you were still locked up in the bathroom. Jake was worried. 
He made his way up the steps to the apartment, fumbling around with his keys to unlock the door. Jay sat in the living room with a bowl of popcorn in his hands, a horror movie on the TV. 
“Is she still in the bathroom?” Jake mouthed to his friend, earning a nod from him. 
Jake walked up to the door, knocking softly, “Baby?” he called for you, trying to turn the knob to find it locked, “YN, sweetheart, baby what’s wrong? Unlock the door please.” 
After a sigh on the other side, you unlock the door and slightly open it and pull him in, then shut the door behind him. 
Jake’s hands were on you immediately, checking if you had a fever, runny nose, everything. 
“Hey,” he whispered, cupping your face with his hands at the look of shock, “What happened?” 
The first thing he assumed was Shotaro fucked up somehow. A pity really if that’s the case, Jake was just starting to like him. 
You look up at your boyfriend, debating where to start. 
“Remember when I got sick with the flu?” 
Jake nodded, rubbing his thumbs against your jawline, “How could I forget? Your brother went all clean freak on us and made us wash everything and replace everything.” 
“Do you remember the medication I was on?” 
Jake thought for a second, then nodded, “Yeah? Baby that was weeks ago.” 
“I had to stop taking my birth control because of it…” 
Jake looked at you in confusion, “I know? It would have canceled it out anyway. YN, stop beating around the bush, what happened?” 
Your eyes dart to the sink and Jake follows your gaze seeing the grocery bag, and five boxes of pregnancy tests sitting around the counter. 
Jake looked at the boxes, then back at you, then back at the boxes, “I’m confused?” 
You roll your eyes, “Jake, I was off my birth control for the entire time I took my flu medication. And didn’t get back on it until the last pill of the medicine was gone, which was two days after graduation.” 
He just raises a brow at you, waiting for you to continue. 
“We had sex the night I graduated when I was still off my birth control.” 
Those words. Those exact words were all it took for Jake to swallow and feel how dry his throat had become. 
“Are you sure?” 
You looked back down to the boxes, “I pissed on every single stick in those boxes, and every single one of them came back positive.” 
You had to be honest, you were scared to tell Jake. The two of you have always been so careful when it comes to sex. Always have condoms on standby just in case. You always made sure to take your birth control pill on time every single day. And well shit, you both even still carried around Plan B’s as a backup. 
Jake was shaking and his heart was racing, “You’re pregnant?” you nod, waiting for him to get upset. Waiting for him to sink down onto the floor and laugh it off that you’re lying, to call your bluff. But he didn’t, his eyes softened, and the corners of his lips curled, “I’m going to be a daddy?” 
You nodded again, your lips also moving into a smile, “You’re going to be a daddy, Jake.” 
He couldn’t stop the smile that grew. Like wow, you’re pregnant? He’s going to be a father? You’re going to be a mother? Jake will get to raise a baby with you. Get to grow this little family even more. 
Jake pulled you into a kiss, arms wrapping tightly around you, “I love you so much,” he whispered between kisses, “I can’t believe it.” 
“Well you better believe it,” you kissed him again, “And I love you so much too.”
Jake sank down to his knees, placing his hands on your waist and kissing all over your tummy, “I am so happy right now.” 
Before you could respond, the bathroom door opened, “Hey I heard laughing, is everything okay now?” 
You stared wide eyed at your brother as he looked down at Jake on his knees. You could see the gears turning in your brother's brain, thinking he walked into a sexual act about to happen. 
He turned to leave, opening his mouth to make a smart retort when he saw the boxes in the sink. Jay looked at every single one before going back to you, down at Jake, back to the boxes…then the light bulb lit up above his head, face now tensed as he looked at you, then at Jake again. Jake awkwardly smiled up at your brother. 
“You got to be fucking joking.” was all your brother said. 
You and Jake sat on the couch, arms crossed as you both stared up at your brother pacing back and forth in the living room. 
“You’re going to cause a draft,” Jake finally said, trying hard to not laugh, but stopping his smile when Jay stopped pacing and looked at him. 
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around this,” Jay said, rubbing his temples as if he had the worst headache. 
You stare down at the boxes that now sit on the coffee table. Jay looked at every single piss stick in those boxes more than five times each as if the answer on it would change. You found it funny, hilarious even. Jay was acting as if he were the one growing a human life. 
Jake sat forward, narrowing his eyes in confusion, “Brother what is there to wrap your head around? She’s pregnant.” 
Jay slid his hands down his face, the stress showing on his face as he glared at your boyfriend, your happy mood faltered. You could read him like a book, “Jay, what’s really going on?”
Your brother let out a sigh before dropping his hands at his side, “I’m going to be an uncle?” he chuckled, his hands finding their way back to his face and then in his hair, “Like wow, my baby sister is pregnant with my best friend. I’m going to be an uncle…” Jay repeated those words a few more times before the worried look turned into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen him make, “I’m going to be a fucking uncle!!” 
You smiled as wide as he did, standing from the couch and rushing to your brother and hugging him. Jay squeezed you so tight, rocking you back and forth as his laughter filled your ears, “Seongie, you’re literally going to be the best uncle ever.” 
“Fuck yeah I am,” he said, laughing even more, then turning to look at Jake, “You going to just sit on the couch? Get your ass up and join this family hug.” 
Family. Jay was officially his family. The term brother would mean more now than just being super close. Jay will be the uncle to his child. The big family Jake always wanted was finally within his reach and who would have guessed it would be with the people who were his second family growing up. 
Jake bounced from the couch, embracing you and Jay in his arms, joining the laughter that filled the apartment and still laughing even after you three pulled away. 
“God, I can’t believe you let him get you pregnant stinks,” Jay teased, flicking your forehead with his fingers. 
“It was an accident!” Jake defended himself, “Not my fault your sister is like a sex goddess.” 
“Dude,” Jay rolled his eyes, “That’s my sister I don’t want to hear that,” Jake just smiled at him, already loving the way he was going to tease the hell out of Jay through this pregnancy, “Anyways, when did this happen?” 
Jake was the confused one now. Jay literally was just on his ass about speaking about his sex life with his little sister, but now he’s asking when it happened? 
“Are you really asking me when I boned your sister that impregnated her?” 
Jay shrugged his shoulders, “Well when you say it like that…” 
You just looked at Jake, trying to not laugh at the obvious embarrassment on his face. Usually, the roles are reversed, but guess Jay pulled a fast one on him this time. 
“It was my graduation night,” you said for Jake, “Would you like to know the details since you want to be so nosey?” 
“God no shut up!” your brother scoffed, “I didn’t actually want to know I just wanted to tease Jake. Jesus fucking Christ.” 
Jake awkwardly chuckled with a shake of his head, “Now we just have to tell Heeseung, Sunghoon, Shotaro, my brother, and both our parents.” 
“Taro already knows.” 
Jake raised a brow at you, “He knew before me? Before Jay?” 
You just shrugged, “Taro was the one who suggested I might be pregnant. I was feeling sick earlier this morning, it was the only logical explanation.” 
That…makes a lot of sense. 
And as if speaking of the devils manifested them into existence, Heeseung and Sunghoon arrived back at the apartment, snapping at each other over the flavor of pop tarts and which one was better. Both their hands were filled with groceries. 
“Oh!” Heeseung scoffed, “Nice to know you three were home and ignoring your cell phones! Would have been nice to get some help.” 
Sunghoon nodded with a click of his tongue, “Yeah, would it have helped to not have been so lazy?” 
You crossed your arms, eyes darting between the two of them. You glanced down at the coffee table with the pregnant test boxes, and stepped off to the side giving them both a better view, “We were kinda busy with something important.” 
Sunghoon noticed what the boxes were immediately, his eyes widening and mouth slightly open. 
Heeseung tossed the bags of groceries into the solo recliner chair and picked up one of the boxes, “What could have been so important you’d ignore your best friends…for…” 
Heeseung looked over the box for a couple seconds before tearing it open and taking the test out (obviously holding the end you didn’t piss on), eyes widening at the positive marks. 
“You’re pregnant?!” Heeseung shouted, his voice filled with so much excitement as he looked up at you, eyes sparkling with the happiness he was feeling for you and Jake.
You smiled, giving him a nod, “Yeah, I’m pregnant!” 
“Holy fucking shit!” Heeseung shouted, tossing the stick and box back onto the coffee table and pulling you into a hug, “Congratulations stinks!” 
Sunghoon was right beside you, dropping the groceries to the floor and pulling you into him, “You’re growing up so fast!” 
“Oh, fuck off!” you pinched his bicep, and all Sunghoon could do was laugh. 
“I am so happy for you, YN,” he said, eyes darting over to Jay, “You’re going to be an uncle my dude!!”
“I know!” Jay shouted with the same excitement as his friends, “I mean, you two will be uncles too, since you’re practically family.”
Heeseung’s jaw dropped to the floor, “I’d be Uncle Hee!!” 
Jake watched as the most important people in his life laughed, shouted, cried out of pure happiness, and hugged each other. His heart was so full and so warm. He had the best non-biological brothers surrounding him. Had the best girlfriend who was now carrying his child. Had a good ass job that helped pay the bills and help support you and the baby. What more could he ask for?
Jake continued to watch his family, picturing a miniature you/him running around the apartment. Picturing Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon being the best uncles in the world as they play, laugh, love, and care for his future child. 
That thought alone also sunk Jake’s heart, “Guys,” he said, everyone turning and looking at him. Jake had the realization that the apartment was made to fit four people. There are five people standing in this living room and You had a baby on the way, “This place is about to get a lot more crowded.” 
— 
You lay on the couch, two fingers pressed into your cunt. Your other hand slid underneath your shirt, squeezing your breast and twisting your nipple between your thumb and index fingers. 
Nobody else was home, all four boys were at work and Shotaro couldn’t hang out with you. 
What better way to pass the time than to touch yourself? You weren’t fortunate enough to have gotten a job after graduating and now that you were pregnant, Jay and especially Jake, were against you getting a job right now.  
“You’re pregnant, you don’t need to work right now,” Jay said, taking your laptop from your hands to keep from applying to any more jobs. 
“I’m pregnant, not disabled!” You snapped, “Let me do something besides sit at the apartment all day.” 
“Yeah, and if you get a job you’ll be on pregnancy leave shortly after getting it. Might as well just wait.” Jay retorted back. 
“Baby,” Jake said, kneeling down beside you, his hand resting on your belly, “You’re already doing enough by growing life inside of you. Please just wait until after you have the baby.” 
You looked to Heeseung and Sunghoon for support, they just shook their heads, hands raised up, “Not my circus, not my monkeys,” was all Heeseung could say, with a small snicker of laughter from Sunghoon. 
Traitors. 
You glanced down at your belly, baby bump now fully on display as the little speck of life grew more and more every day. 
You were at the end of the first trimester and the beginning of your second trimester, your baby bump was obvious that you were pregnant, but with your clothes, no one would ever know unless you told them. The morning sickness came and went as it pleased, your weird food cravings kicked in a bit, and all four boys started being more careful around you. Helping you sit down and stand up as if you all of a sudden couldn’t do that on your own, always grabbing things for you instead of you getting it yourself. You weren’t that far along in the pregnancy, you didn’t need that kind of help right now but took the help anyway. You knew you couldn’t get out of it. 
You flung your head back onto the pillow, pumping your fingers faster and squeezing your breast tighter. 
You breathed in harder, arching your back at the pleasure. You glanced at the clock on the wall, Jake should be coming home for lunch at any minute, bringing the takeout you requested as your food craving of the day. 
But you got horny while waiting for him, and now here you are, waiting for him to come home to help finish you off and then eat your lunch. 
The sound of the keys sliding into the lock made you jolt, your cunt clenching tightly against your fingers, not being able to wait any longer, you needed Jake. 
“Hey baby,” Jake called from the front door, kicking his shoes off before stepping in, “I have your lunch.” 
You tried to call out to him but lost your breath in a small gasp. 
Jake heard the gasp, and thinking something was wrong, he quickly rushed around the corner from the hallway, stopping at the sight of you, him nearly slipping on the hard floor at seeing your legs spread with your fingers pumping in and out, Your fucked out facial expressions and other hand massaging your tits. 
He was hard almost immediately, “Oh baby, fuck,” he hissed, his hand palming at himself through his jeans, “Look at you.” 
“Jaeyun,” you whined, barely being able to speak, “I need you,” 
Jake left the bag of food on the solo recliner chair, sliding his jacket from his body and tossing it to the floor, “Yeah baby? What do you need me to do?” 
“Touch me,” you whimpered, “Please do something.” 
Jake slid onto the couch in front of you, tossing your legs over his shoulders and replacing your fingers with his, using his other hand to grip the top of the couch as he hovered over you carefully. You shut your eyes and furrowed your brows, mouth opening wide and letting out a wet moan as the feeling of his fingers slid into you, “Feels good baby? Couldn’t wait until I got home to touch yourself?” 
You nodded, “I needed to do something, was too horny.” 
Jake bit his lip and pumped his fingers faster into you. The last thing he was expecting to see when he came home was you sprawled out on the couch so wet and ready for him. Jake has only seen you this needy a handful of times, it was a once in a once-in-a-blue-moon kinda thing but oh god was he loving it. 
Seeing you so needy only made himself needy too and removed his fingers from your cunt, “Jae—“
“Shhh baby,” he whispered, “Sit up a bit for me, ya?” 
You nodded, pulling yourself up into your elbows and scooting up a bit onto the couch arm. Jake laid himself between your legs, lifting your hips up a bit to give him a better angle at your pussy. 
Your hands gripped the cushions of the couch at feeling his tongue flatting against your hole, “Fuck, Jake!” 
His chuckles sent vibrations up your whole body and made you shiver. His tongue licked streaks up and down your cunt, twirling the muscle around your clit and back down and up again. Repeating the process a few times before sliding his tongue into your pussy, shoving the muscle so far into your hole his nose was now rubbing against your clit. 
You chanted his name, knuckles turning white from the death grip you had on the couch, squeezing your thighs against Jake’s head. He moaned into your cunt, bucking his hips into the couch to feel some kind of friction on his cock, his hands gripped your hips tighter, thumbs rubbing circles at the edge of your belly. 
The more you squeezed his head between your legs, the more he knew you were fixing to burst, working his tongue faster and angling his face to the side a bit in a tilt, opening his mouth wider to shove his tongue further into your pussy and wrapping his lips around your hole, digging his nose a bit harder against your clit. 
“Jaeyun!” you pant, “Jake, I’m going to cum.” 
Jake hummed against your heat, only removing himself to let out a “Cum on my tongue for me baby,” then reattaching himself to your cunt, eating you out like you were the last meal he’d ever get. 
And it made you come undone, your cum coating his tongue. Jake took a deep breath through his nose, licking your pussy completely clean, taking all your cum into his mouth and swallowing it, “Fuck you taste so good.”
Your chest raised and fell at hitting your high, flinging your arm over your forehead, taking more deep breaths. 
You look down at your boyfriend, seeing the look in his eyes as he licks his lips, still soaking up your leftover juices on his mouth, “Turn to your side,” You roll over, watching him unbuckle his belt and pants, sliding them down and off his body. Jake squeezes himself between you and the couch, “Lift your leg over mine.” 
You wrapped your leg over his hip and tucked it between him and the couch. His tip lined up with your entrance, and slowly slid into you, “Fuckkkk,” he moaned in your ear as he bottomed out, “You feel so good.” 
Jake thrust into you slowly, wanting to savor every ounce of pleasure he could get before having to return back to work, but that plan failed as you backed your ass into his hips and reached a hand behind you to grasp his hair, “Fuck me harder,” you begged, “Babe please.” 
His body shuddered, hand gripping your hip and bucked his hips faster, the sound of skin-to-skin filling the quiet of the apartment. 
Jake glances down, watching as his hips thrust into you, watching the way your body moves in sync with his. His eyes wandered higher, seeing the baby bump. He carefully places his hand on your belly and snapped his cock further inside you, holding it there to rub against your cervix, “You’re so sexy pregnant,” he growled in your ear then started fucking into you again, “Should have bred this pussy so much sooner.” 
You pulled at his hair, “Yeah, you should have.” 
Jake was losing his mind. Something about fucking his sexy as fuck pregnant girlfriend on the couch in such a tight space made him dizzy. He couldn’t be as rough and manhandle you as he normally would, but fuck this was still so hot and pleasuring as if he was being rough with you. 
Your grip on his hair yanked harder, sending Jake over the edge and filling your cunt completely with his cum, his hand now at your thigh as he squeezed it tightly as he continued to pump his cock in and out, letting your pussy milk him completely. 
Out of breath, Jake lays his head on top of yours, hand sliding from your thigh and down back to your belly, thumb drawing little circles. 
You placed your hand on top of his and leaned more into him, “You really think I’m sexy pregnant?” 
Jake chuckled, “Of course I do, I’ll always find you sexy.” And it was true. He’ll never not find you sexy. 
He continued to run his hand over your belly, yours following on top of his, tracing the outline of your naval then sliding down on the underbelly then your hips, and back up. 
“I still can’t believe you’re growing a life,” Jake whispered, “Growing our baby.” 
You lifted your head up to look at him, smiling at him and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “And it’s all thanks to your sperm that got past all the female's defenses to find the egg.” 
Jake softly giggles at your medical terminology and presses his lips back to yours. 
He was really still in disbelief. You went from that little girl he grew up with and would tease to his girlfriend and being madly in love and pregnant with his child. Jake was truly so blessed to have found his soulmate so early on in life. 
“I love you,” he said between kisses, his hand softly squeezing your belly, “I’m so lucky to have you.” 
“I love you too,” you smiled so warmly at him, sliding a finger down his jaw. 
Jake pressed one last kiss to your lips, “Let’s eat, I’m still starving after my first meal.” 
You giggled, being so thankful for him. 
“What about this one?” Heeseung asked, holding up the ugliest orange shirt you’ve ever seen. You scrunch your nose, “Hard pass, got it,” he said, placing the shirt back onto the rack. 
You were thankful Heeseung came along with you to do some much-needed shopping. Your baby bump was no longer easy to hide and all the clothes you’d normally wear no longer fit. Well, they did but felt way too tight. 
You practically tore your and Jake’s bedroom apart trying to find any piece of clothing that would fit comfortably that wasn’t one of Jake’s hoodies or sweatpants. Heeseung just so happened to be walking out of his bedroom and crossing the hall and almost got hit in the face by a pair of flying jeans. Which is how you now ended up at the mall with him doing much-needed clothing shopping. 
“You need some more color in your closet though,” Heeseung said, shifting through all the shirts on the rack, “You can’t just keep having white, black, and red, YN.” 
You pouted, “I have other colors!” 
Heeseung glared at you, “The few blues, purples, and greens don’t count. You have more black shirts than anything else, you little emo. Even Jake has more colors than you.” 
You wanted to fight back but knew you couldn’t. Heeseung was right. 
“And check this one out,” He pulled a really pretty lavender shirt from the rack, holding it up against your chest, “I think it looks good!” 
You nodded, actually really loving the color, “Put it in the cart,” 
Heeseung’s eyes sparkled as he placed it into the cart with the other mixtures of jeans, leggings, dresses, bras, panties, and socks, all for you. 
You watched as he moved onto another clothing rack, watching as he pushed the cart for you. You couldn’t hide the smile that was forming on your lips as you looked at him with endearment. If he was willing to do all this for you, his best friend's girlfriend, and his other best friend's little sister, while pregnant, you could only imagine how well he’d treat his future girlfriend and wife. Heeseung would make a fine husband someday. 
“Seungie, you sure you don’t mind doing all this?” you felt somewhat guilty. Jake should be here too, picking out clothes for you. But unfortunately, going and watching Formula One races with your brother at the sports bar was in his deck of cards today. You even called Jake earlier and told him the plans you made with Heeseung and he didn’t even bat an eye at it. 
“Why would I mind?” he questioned, taking a pink long sleeve off the rack and holding it up to you, “Yeah pink is definitely your color while pregnant,” then tossed the fabric into the cart. 
“Because you literally helped me shop for bras and underwear?” 
Heeseung shrugged his shoulders as he continued to flip through the clothing rack, “They are just clothes, YN. I’ve done your laundry plenty of times, and have walked in on you and Jake undressing each other enough times. We’ve grown up together, shopping for undergarments with you doesn’t bother me at all.” 
Your heart filled with the love you have for him, wanting to pull him into a tight hug and kiss his cheek. Heeseung was definitely that second older brother you never had. 
But you decided to use this time to tease him. You don’t get to tease Heeseung often, he was always one step ahead but this might be your chance. 
“Jake might think differently after finding out you helped shop for lace bras and panties for me when it should be his eyes only.” 
Heeseung chuckled, holding up a black long-sleeve and then tossing it to the cart, “Then maybe he needs to find better hiding places to smell your panties with.” 
Your smile fell, “He does what?” 
Heeseung let out a loud laugh, “YN, I’m joking, you can’t try to tease me and expect me to not clap back.” 
Always one step ahead as usual. 
“Besides, I’ve only ever caught him with your panties once and that was before you moved in with us and he was definitely NOT smelling them, that’s for sure.” 
You knew about how Heeseung caught Jake rubbing one out with a pair of your dark blue panties that were Jake’s absolutely favorite pair. You saw Jake steal them from your drawer before he took that drive back home and confronted him before he could even step foot out the door of your dorm. Jake wasn’t a panty sniffer, but he sure used to be a stealer. You remember how Jake called you not even five minutes after Heeseung walked in on him. You thought it was the funniest thing. 
“Jake honestly probably wouldn’t care anyways,” you shrugged, following behind Heeseung as he moved into another section of clothes, “He’d just be happy someone was here with me.” 
Heeseung agreed, “He’s been so protective over you since finding out you were pregnant. He made me and Sunghoon swear to look after you if he and Jay weren’t around to do so. Never seen the man that protective, and you know how he is over his ramen.” 
Getting Jake to share his ramen is a hard thing to do, even with you. He had a bowl the other night and you had to beg for him to share and even pulled the pregnancy card to get him to share it, which he didn’t do by the way, “Just because you’re pregnant doesn't mean I’ll share my ramen. Fuck off.” Asshole. 
Heeseung continued, “You really make him happy, YN.” You nodded. You knew you did. Jake never goes without telling you, “You know, I was a bit jealous at first.” 
You raised a brow in confusion at him, “What are you talking about, ace?” 
Heeseung sighed, picking up another shirt, then placing it back on the rack, refusing to make eye contact with you, “When we first saw you again after all that time during winter vacation, you had all our hearts dropping, just so you know. It wasn’t just Jake’s.” 
You knew the feeling was mutual, seeing Jake, Heeseung, and Sunghoon all grown up made your heart flutter. They were good-looking men, they still are, there’s no denying that. 
“We knew from the beginning that Jake’s heart kinda dropped a bit harder than ours did,” he continued, “Don’t worry about Jake finding out about this conversation, he already knows,” you nodded, waiting for him to continue, “I woke up one night and saw Jake sneaking out of the guest room, I think it was the very first time he did so. I sat up after the door was closed only to see Sunghoon was staring at the door as well. We knew exactly where he went. We stayed up discussing it. About what we should do about it. We knew Jay would kill him and then kill us if he ever found out we knew.” 
Ouch, guess you and Jake suck at hiding, “Does my brother and Jake know you two knew?” 
Heeseung nodded, “They do now. The four of us had a good long talk on that drive back to the apartment, but at first no.” 
Makes sense. 
“Anyway, Hoon and I just decided to keep it to ourselves. Mostly because, well, our own feelings were conflicted. You weren’t completely the same little girl we grew up with. We were mostly just attracted to you, that’s how far our feelings went really. I was jealous Jake had the balls to go after you even after Jay was being his crazy protective brother self,” Heeseung laughed, “Jake was really crazy for crossing that line. Had major balls. But after he snuck back into the guest room that night and saw how wide his smile was at breakfast that following morning, you became off limits not just because of Jay, but also Jake. Hoon and I decided to drop the attraction, don’t get me wrong, you’re still as pretty as ever, but you went back to being our little sister super quick.” 
You just smiled at him, you found it cute that the three stooges all had some little crush on you at some point. Funny even. Jake just happened to be your soulmate from the beginning, they all knew that too. 
“Anyway,” Heeseung said again, finding a blue top with a flower graphic design, “I think we have enough clothes picked out for you,” he said as he tossed the article of clothing for you into the cart, “How about you help me find some new outfits for you now?” him giving you his heart lipped smile. 
You nodded, it was the least you could do, plus you both were already here. 
Heeseung continued to push the cart as you found clothes for him. It was his turn to watch you with such endearment. Heeseung doesn’t know why he decided to tell you about the small and very short-lived crush he used to have on you. Maybe it was because you looked so pretty today. With how your hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and wearing Jake’s hoodie and sweatpants. It was way too cute. You’ve worn Jake’s clothes even before he got you pregnant, but it was still cute. Made him think that this is how his future wife will look once pregnant. But looking at you made Heeseung happy because you were happy. Jake made you happy and you made Jake happy. Which obviously made everyone else happy. 
Heeseung watched as you picked him out a bright pink shirt, leaning on his elbows on the cart, his eyes wandering down to your belly, his smile growing wider, “I can’t wait to become an uncle.” 
Jake and Jay clinked their beer glasses together as they cheered for their racing team, chugging down the liquid. Then asking the bartender for another refill. They clinked their glasses again, chugged it down, and got another refill. 
Jake and Jay’s phone buzzed, Heeseung texting the “and they were roommates” group chat. 
Jay took a few sips of his beer, ignoring the chat so Jake looked instead. 
“Hee and YN are back home,” Jake said, and Jay nodded, “Hee also said to let either him or Sunghoon know if we need someone to come get us.” 
It was usually this way if any of the boys went out without the others. Everyone is always on standby if anyone gets too drunk. And if all of them went out together, one person wouldn’t drink or drink as much to be the driver home. It was a perfect system. 
Jay took a few more sips of his beer then set the glass on the table, “How did YN's doctor appointment go yesterday?” 
Jake brought the glass to his lips, “Everything is good. She’s healthy, the baby is healthy. That’s all I could ask for,” he took a few sips of the beer and trained his eyes back to the TV with the race on it. 
“Do you know the gender yet?” Jay asked curiously. Jay has been thinking about that a lot lately. If he’ll have a niece or nephew? Will they have more of the Park genetics or the Sim genetics or an equal mixture of both? Will he be a good uncle? God, he hopes so. 
Jake just shakes his head, “YN wants to wait until she has the baby, wants it to be a big surprise. Should have seen her face when the doctor tried to tell her the gender. She held her hands up so fast and straight up told the doctor to keep her mouth shut.” 
Jake chuckles at the memory, he thought you were going to fight the doctor over it. Thank god you didn’t. 
Jay relaxes in his seat, studying his best friend, “Are you nervous?” 
Jake narrows his eyes and releases a huff, taking another sip of the beer, “Oh what? Nothing to be nervous over.” 
Jay could see right through Jake. He knows his best friend like the back of his hand, he can see it all over Jake’s face that the further along you got in your pregnancy, the more nervous he got. Jay really noticed Jake’s shakiness after returning from the appointment yesterday. 
“To be a dad. Nervous about wanting to take care of my sister, and wanting the pregnancy to go smoothly. Bro, I can see it all over your face. You vowed to stop drinking and partying after she got pregnant, yet you were the first one tonight to order alcohol.” 
Jake just shakes his head, “I want to be the perfect dad. I want to take care of YN through the whole pregnancy. I want our baby to be healthy. I’m scared man.” 
Jay nods, slowly rocking his body with the nod, “I’m nervous too.” 
Jake raised a brow, clearly confused. 
Jay continued, “I lived for protecting my sister, that obviously hasn’t changed, but I always tried and wanted to be the perfect older brother for her. I knew once the day came that she started popping out kids that I wanted to be a perfect uncle and protect her kids as I did her. But I also feel like I haven’t been the best or perfect brother. That I didn’t try hard enough and now I’m scared I’ll fail as an uncle.” 
“Are you fucking serious?” Jake snapped, causing Jay to widen his eyes at him, “You’re not a failure of a brother. You never failed YN and you won’t ever fail her. You did perfectly to protect her, trust me, as someone who got caught sneaking around with her, you do a pretty damn good job at it. And you won’t fail our child either. I promise you that. You’ll be a perfect uncle.” 
Jay tried to keep his eyes clear as he nodded, never wanting to admit that Jake’s words gave him the ego boost he needed. 
So he raised his glass, “To our little family.” 
Jake smiled, raising his glass as well, “To our little family.” 
“Including Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Shotaro, because YN would kill us both if we left them out.” 
Jake nodded in agreement, “Amen to that brotha.” 
“Thank you…for helping me take care of my sister,” Jay chuckled, “She doesn’t just have to deal with me trying to protect her.” 
“Trust me,” Jake rolled his eyes, “She hates it.” 
“Well YN gotta deal I guess.” Jay shrugged but also laughed. 
Jay had to admit he finally and fully was able to accept Jake in your life. He always accepted him, it just took a little bit longer to be one hundred percent okay with it. To be completely used to seeing you wrapped in Jake’s arms. Because now when you weren’t by Jake, it was weird and didn’t sit right. Jay honestly was so thankful you chose Jake. Because if you chose any other loser male out there, Jay wouldn’t be as accepting. No one is good enough for his sister besides Jake. Point blank. Plus, you were pregnant with Jake’s baby, and Jay kinda had no choice but to fully accept Jake into the family. 
They chugged down their drinks and got another refill, paying back attention to the race and knocking their sad attitudes away. 
“You know,” Jay said after some time, “We’re both fucked if you have a girl.” 
Jake groaned and dropped his face into his hands, “Don’t fucking remind me, I’ve already thought about it.” 
Jay chuckled some more, chugging down his alcohol. If you did have a girl, he already knows his protection level will skyrocket. And since Jake will be the baby’s father…oh all hell would break loose. That baby wouldn’t just have to deal with an overprotective father, but an overprotective uncle. Maybe that’s why you didn’t want to know the gender yet, you knew what would happen the minute everyone found out. 
And honestly, it wouldn’t just be him and Jake losing their brains over you having a girl. Heeseung and Sunghoon would also protect that child with their lives. The two of them are already helping you around the apartment and watching your every move. It’ll just be worse once the baby is here. 
Jay shook Jake’s shoulders, “Come on man, lighten up! Just focus on the fact you’re going to be one kick-ass of a dad!” 
That lifted Jake’s spirits, “Yeah? Think so?” 
Jay nodded, “Yeah. Because if you aren’t I’ll beat you myself. YN will be right behind me too.” 
Jake just rolls his eyes, “Whatever man.” 
The two of them laughed and continued to watch the race and enjoy each other's company. 
Heeseung had his arm wrapped around Jake, and Sunghoon had his arm wrapped around Jay, helping the two of them walk out of the bar. 
You had your arms crossed as you leaned against the car, watching for your boyfriend and brother to come into view. Your heart relaxes once the sight of Heeseung and Sunghoon dragging them out comes into view. 
“Damn, how much did they drink?” You asked, your eyes glancing back and forth between the two drunks. 
Sunghoon scoffed, “Who knows, but we told them to not get so fucking hammered.” 
“But our racer won!” Jake smiles, letting out a hiccup then his eyes focused on you, “Baby!” 
Jay looked up at you, realizing Hee and Hoon left you outside, his protectiveness and rage coming in, “You left my pregnant sister outside by HERSELF?!” 
Jake then realized it himself too, “You left my pregnant girlfriend outside by HERSELF?!” 
“Oh shut the fuck up!” Heeseung snapped, “I tried to usher you both out of the bar by myself but I needed help. YN was told to stay INSIDE the car.” 
You just shrugged, “I can hold my own.” 
“You’re pregnant!!” Jake and Jay both said in unison.
“Yeah! Pregnant! Not disabled!” 
Jake lifted himself from Heeseung and walked to you, taking your chin between his fingers and his other hand resting on your tummy, “You and this baby are the most important things to me, if something were to happen to you two…I…” 
You relaxed your body and placed your hands on your boyfriend's face, you knew he was just being protective. Same with your brother. You knew you were the most important thing to them, the least you could do was respect their wishes when it comes to protecting you. 
“I am okay,” you reassured him, looking at your brother and repeating the words, “Heeseung and Sunghoon wouldn’t have left me alone if they didn’t think it was okay.” 
“Trust me,” Sunghoon said, trying to keep Jay from slipping out of his hold, “We didn’t want to leave her in the car.” 
“Can we discuss this at home?” Jay said, hanging his head low, “I think I drank way too much.” 
“You don’t fucking say?!” Heeseung scoffed, helping Sunghoon with Jay. 
“I’ll drive Jay’s car back,” Sunghoon said, “Help me get him in then we can head back. I think YN has Jake fine.” 
You nodded, eyes darting to your brother, “Take care of him.” 
You got Jake in the car, him laying his head on your shoulder, cuddling up to you. 
Heeseung returns quickly and jumps in the driver's seat of his car, “Let’s get home guys, I’m exhausted.” 
You watched Jake’s hand through the street lamps and moonlight as his thumb rubbed your thigh then shifted up and placed his whole hand on your pregnant stomach. 
“I can’t wait to meet you,” he says softly, taking a deep breath and snuggling more into you. You rest your head against the top of his, smiling. You could already tell Jake would be a fantastic father. 
You kissed his forehead, whispering, “I love you.” 
You moaned softly into Jake’s mouth as he slowly pumped into you. 
The early morning sun beats down onto the bed, making his skin shine beautifully. 
Jake slides his tongue down your mouth, his hand moving up and down your bare back, stopping to squeeze your ass, moving down to your leg wrapped over his hip, and squeezing your thigh before moving back up and repeating the process. 
You were now about halfway done with your pregnancy. Your little sprout of life grows perfectly and healthy every single day, which made having sex with Jake a bit harder now that the baby has grown so big. 
But that didn’t stop you two, obviously. 
Jake woke you up this morning with kisses to your neck, and his fingers sliding down your shorts, “I need you so bad right now.” 
The sex wasn’t rough but filled with so much love. It was soft, lazy, passionate, and just so so much love. 
His hand stopped at your hip and squeezed it tightly, “I want to get so rough with you, fuck,” he whispers, “I need to cum.” 
You remove yourself from him, sliding his cock out and rolling over to your other side, backing your ass into his hips, “Then get rough with me babe.” 
Jake hissed, quickly shoving his cock back into your cunt, snapping his hips fast against your ass. 
“Fuck baby, can never get enough of this pussy.” 
You could tell Jake was losing himself in your heat. He hasn’t been able to be rough like he normally wanted to, being too afraid that he would hurt you. 
Jake leaned more into your back, pressing you into the sheets as he fucked into you at a primal rate. His fingers slipping between your legs and rubbing your clit at the same pace. 
You bit into the fabric of your pillow to suppress your moans, not wanting to wake anyone else up in the apartment. Your hands gripped the sheets, knuckles turning white. 
You missed how rough Jake could get. Missed him pressing your face into the pillows. Even though this wasn’t the full extent of roughness that he could do, you still ate up every ounce of what he was giving you right now. 
“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, “You’re doing so good for me, taking my cock so well even though you’re pregnant.” 
You felt your climax reach its peak, Jake groaning at feeling you cum on his cock. He was literally on cloud 9. And the fact you’re letting him get even the smallest amount of rough with you was driving him crazy. 
Jake would be lying if he said he didn’t google sex positions to use while being pregnant and read plenty of articles on it too. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. 
Jake also read how some girlfriends/wives completely took sex off the table when they found out they were pregnant. He was so fucking blessed that you had just as high a sex drive as he did. Jake would lose his mind if you wouldn’t let him have a taste of that sweet pussy of yours for nine months. His hand would only get him so far before his crumpling at your feet begging you to let him fuck you. So again yeah, he thanked god you were just as addicted to his cock as he was to your pussy. 
Not to mention the position he has you in right now was so sexy to him. He was still able to press your face into the pillows and rail you from behind, getting to see how his cock moves inside you, watching how your cum wraps a white ring around his cock. Get to see every facial expression you make while hitting your G-spot. What’s not to love about it? Plus you’re comfortable and it wasn’t affecting your belly at all. 
“Hmm I’m fixing to cum baby,” he growls, “Going to fill this cunt to the brim.” 
“Pleaseeee,” you beg, wanting nothing more than to feel his cum stain your insides. 
“Hmmm,” he hummed, licking the shell of your ear and then biting the lobe as he came. His strings of white rope filled you completely, “Fuck…fuck,” he moaned, trying to catch his breath. 
Jake kissed your temple before pulling out and removing himself from the bed. You rolled over and watched his naked figure dig in his dresser for a clean pair of boxers and socks, slipping them onto his body then grabbing his favorite pair of jeans that he wears to work, along with his white striped button-up. 
You sat up in bed, pulling the covers over your naked body, now cold from the loss of your boyfriend pressed against you. 
“You should call out,” you softly said. 
Jake chuckles as he sits on the edge of the bed, pulling his sneakers onto his feet, “I would if I could my love, I need every time saved up to use once you give birth.” 
You groaned and pouted but knew it wouldn’t get you your way. Knowing he couldn’t actually call out. Mostly when he wanted to take off a couple of days around your due date just in case he needed to rush you to the hospital. And then there’s the first few weeks he wants to spend with you after the baby arrives. He couldn’t take off at all and the only reason his leave got approved by his boss was because he promised to show up every single day before you gave birth no matter what. Yet you still pouted anyway. 
“What will I do while you’re gone?” 
“Why don’t you see if one of the other guys can hang out with you?” Jake wanted to call out. Wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with you all day. But he has a future child and a girlfriend to feed and spoil, he kind of needed to work. 
“I already asked them,” You cross your arms, “Heeseung also has to work, Sunghoon is spending the day with his sister, and Jay is too busy finishing up his culinary degree online to step away.” 
“Have you called Shotaro? I’m sure he’d love to see you.” 
Your eyes lit up, remembering that Taro had the day off today, “Yeah I’ll give him a call.” 
Jake smiled at you, “Just make sure to be careful okay?” he asked, placing his hand over your growing belly, “Don’t do anything you know you can’t do, let Shotaro help.” 
You rolled your eyes, being as stubborn as ever. 
“I’ll call and tell himself—“
“Okay!” you said, “I’ll behave.” 
“Good,” Jake pulls you in for a couple of kisses, then kisses your forehead, “I’ll see you when I get off. I love you.”
“I love you too meanie head!” 
Then you watched him walk out of the bedroom. 
“What do you mean you don’t want a baby shower?” Taro asked, brows furrowed as his fingers rapidly pressed the buttons on his PS5 controller, the sounds of the boss he was fighting and killed on Elden Ring filled his sound system, “Yes!!!” 
You slouched down onto his couch, watching as his character now ran out of the castle, “Didn’t you beat this game already?” 
“Hmm,” he hummed, still focused on the game, “But I am doing a different build this time.” 
You just sighed, continuing to watch your best friend play his video game, the ice in his coffee on the table to his right slowly melting away. 
“Are you going to answer my question?” 
You groaned, “Ughhh Jay was on my ass about this too the other day,” you pouted, and decided it was time to sit up. Taro quickly set the controller down to his set and helped you sit up, “I don’t want a baby shower because I don’t really have any girlfriends, and even so I don’t know the gender of the baby, so I don’t want to get a bunch of pointless gifts. Jake and I decided we would just probably have a small get-together after our child is born and we all go shopping for stuff then.” 
Shotaro nodded, making sure you were sitting up comfortably before grabbing his controller again, and going back to the game, “I guess that is a bit easier and less planning out. Totally sounds like a you thing to do though. Why would Jay get onto you for it?
You shrugged, “I think he’s more nervous than I am and wants an excuse to drink.” 
Shotaro laughed, “Yeah, I’ve noticed the lack of Lee, Parks, and Sim at parties.” 
Which Taro understood completely. Everyone was an adult and you were pregnant, none of the four men wanted to leave you alone at the apartment while they went out. Even if they wanted to, Taro always offered to sit with you, but I think the reality check hit each of them hard after finding out you were pregnant, kinda sending them to a more sober life. 
“Those four really took attached at the hip seriously huh?” 
You scoffed, “Yeah, it’s probably worse now than what it was when we were kids, and they were super annoying as kids.” 
Shotaro sometimes wished he knew you five back then. From the stories he’s heard from Jake, Jay, Heeseung, Sunghoon, and yourself, the five of you were a blast to be around. You five, at least to Shotaro, were the sole definition of what friendship/family is and what it meant. He’s happy that he’s a part of the family now, but man he would have loved to see you all in your prime. 
Shotaro closed out Elden Ring, “Want to play anything? I feel bad just having you sit here.” 
You shook your head, “Taro I feel perfectly fine just sitting here and watching you play games. Your company is everything and much needed.”
Taro just smiles, opening up Elden Ring again and leaning back on the couch. He knew you just wanted some company, but he still didn’t want to let you feel left out either. 
From what Jake said, you used to be super independent, not needing anything from anyone or needed anyone who wasn't Jay. That you grew up so headstrong and unbreakable, probably due to having Jay as your brother and the three stooges as your friends. Even when you went off to college you were independent, only ever spending time with your roommate and a few other friends but mostly did your own thing. 
But something changed after that winter break and moving into town. You got used to relying on others, always having one of the four boys at your side so when they are all busy, you feel lost. That’s where Shotaro came in. He knows you two are best friends and that you love him and know when you need him, and you need him right now. Things got a lot crazier after finding out you were pregnant, but Taro still was filled with endearment each time you asked to hang out. 
You slid back onto the couch too, leaning your head against his shoulder. Shotaro leaned more into you as well, letting the two of you be comfortable with each other's space. 
“Actually, can I learn to play? Jake plays this at home all the time too.” 
Shotaro nodded, “Of course, princess.” 
He hands you the controller, “Are you sure? I don’t want to mess up your progress.” 
“It’s just a game, YN,” he chuckles, “Plus I know what I’m doing, I can fix any mistake you make.” 
You smiled, letting him teach you what each button does and how it works, and then taught you the basics of the game. Before you knew it you were running around and slaying the lower level enemies. 
“Figured out names yet?” Taro asked, taking a few sips of his coffee. 
You shrugged, “We honestly haven’t really discussed it. Jake and I have been really going about this blind, besides you know, reading the parenting books and doing your basic research. Plus I’ve been attending my doctor appointments and everything seems to be going well, so we are doing something right.” 
“As long as you both and the baby are happy and healthy, that’s all that matters. Maybe it’s one of those things that once you see your child for the first time, the name will come to you almost immediately.” 
You nodded, “That’s what we are going for.” 
You were then killed in the game and Taro teased you to no end that you got his character killed even after he said it would all be okay. 
But you were happy, laughing, and enjoying your time with your best friend. You could see it now, Shotaro being another non-biological uncle to your child. Teach him or her to play video games and tease them to the point they are crying from laughter. 
You were truly blessed to have been surrounded by the right people. 
Jake rolled his eyes as he shoved his gloved hands into his puffy jacket pockets, “Is there any reason why I need to be here right now?” he scoffs, a shiver going down his back, “I could be at home cuddling my girlfriend.” 
And rightfully getting my dick wet. 
You woke up super touchy this morning, pressing your chest and belly against his back, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck and shoulder, sliding your hand down his boxers, and pumping his long hard length slowly. 
Jake could be buried balls deep inside you right now. Whether that means your hand, mouth, or cunt. He didn’t care, he just wanted to fuck you slowly. 
Sunghoon skated passed him quickly, taking Jake’s mind out of the multiple positions he could already have put you in by now. 
“Man, we just want one last bro day before YN has the baby,” Heeseung tucked his hands into his pockets, “She’s ready to pop open any day, ya?” 
Jake just nodded, staring down at the ice underneath him, “Within the next few weeks yeah.” 
Jay patted his shoulder, “Don’t look so nervous, everything will be fine.”
Jake knew everything would be fine. But you’ve been staying in bed or lounging around on the couch more often than doing anything else these days. With you finally being in the last leg of your pregnancy, Jake just wanted to take care of you. And obviously, get his dick shoved so far up your cunt that it makes you see stars. 
Jake just rolled his eyes, “That’s not the point, I want to be at home with her right now.” 
“You just want to get your dick wet,” Sunghoon said as he slid across the ice in front of his friends, “I heard the fooling around that was happening this morning.” 
Jake glared at his best friend, “Really man?” 
Jay was also glaring, but not at Sunghoon, “Yeah really man?” Jay might have fully accepted Jake as family and his relationship with his little sister, but he still didn’t want to hear about the sexual acts the two of you do. 
Jake was now glaring at Jay, “I got her knocked up, I don’t see why you’re giving me the death stare right now. It’s kind of obvious at this point that I have sex with your sister.” 
Heeseung and Sunghoon could honestly eat popcorn and watch Jay get mad about Jake railing against you every single time. But Jay was just being a big brother protecting his baby sister, even though you were literally so close to giving birth. 
Jay just waves his hands in the air, “Nah nah I don’t want to hear it.” 
“Anyways!” Sunghoon interrupted, skating back in front of his friends, “We are going to have a bro day and ice skate on my old stomping grounds from hockey days. YN is with my sister having a girls' day, she’s fine.” 
Jake knew once the baby was here that having a guy's day would be less often, mostly up until you’re able to take care of the baby alone after much-needed rest and care. So he shrugged his shoulders, knowing you were with Yeji and perfectly safe, and smiled up at his friends. 
It’s been a while since the last time the four of them ice skated together. It was probably before college. Because once Sunghoon was accepted onto the hockey team, it became hard to skate together again. 
The four boys raced around the rink, trying everything they could to outrun Sunghoon but failing terribly. 
Jake’s heart was so full. He felt like a kid again being with his best friends. With the way everyone laughed, teased, and talked without a care in the world brought all of them back to their high school days. When they’d sneak out of the Park’s house and climb onto the roof and look at the stars until you got annoyed at hearing them talk above your bedroom. 
The memories didn’t stop there. Jake started to remember his soccer days in high school. Remember seeing Jay, Heeseung, Sunghoon, and you cheering him on from the bleachers. Remembering how his parents threw a big party for when his team won the championships for the school district, everyone’s parents drank and laughed in the kitchen while the five of you along with Heeseung and Jake’s older brothers, and Yeji. How you all played around outside until the sun went down. 
Jake rounded the corner of the ice rink, his smile up to his ears as the images of his friends once as children came into mind, then turning them back into who they are all now. 
It’s crazy how fast time can change, but how the four of them never did. They continued to grow together, learn together, and still had each other's backs. 
Jake was truly lucky to have these guys, mostly now that he has you. Jake will never have so much trust in anyone else with his child as he will with the three men standing before him. 
Jake pulled his friends into a hug, “I really needed this today guys, thank you,” His friends pulled each other closer, their smiles never fading, “I truly do love you guys.” 
You lay in bed, scrolling through the latest TikTok trends and giggling softly to yourself, using your thumb to swipe to the next video, your other hand gently resting on your belly, fingers tapping lightly as if to tell your baby that you’re here and ready for them. 
You were nearing the due date, counting down the actual seconds until it was time to finally meet the little sprout of life that you and Jake created. To finally grow this small family into something bigger. You were excited, Jake was excited. Same with Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon. 
Sunghoon even went out and bought a small hockey jersey of his favorite team for the baby to wear. Heeseung bought baby Legos, and Jay bought a small baby guitar to teach his nephew/niece the love of music so early on. 
Sometimes you think the other three are more excited about you giving birth than you and Jake were. 
But nevertheless, it made you more than happy to see the three of them excited for the baby. 
The only con to being pregnant and being at the due date is everyone has been more on edge. All four of the boys have started picking up more hours and longer shifts at work to pile in that extra money. Mostly because you can’t work and Jake will be taking a leave to help take care of you and the baby. So the other three decided to pick up those hours to help pick up the slack from Jake not working to help pay the bills. You were grateful and hated that you could pitch in, but you loved them all dearly for it. Jake also was working himself to death recently, wanting to get every last penny possible to put into savings for the hospital bills you’ll have and to get clothes and food that everyone else will need. 
You set your phone down at your side, staring up at the ceiling. Grateful and love aren’t big enough words to describe how happy you are to have those four men. 
As if on cue, the front door to the quiet apartment opened, an obvious sign that someone returned home. 
Today was one of the rare days you were left alone. Mostly because Shotaro also had to work and wasn’t able to call out or get a replacement. But you promised to stay in bed all day to help ease the boys' minds. 
You sat up in the bed, listening carefully on who could have come back home, then heard the sigh of your boyfriend and the sound of him dropping himself onto the couch. 
Your heart raced as you swung your legs over the bed and stood up, making your way to the bedroom and opening it slowly, peaking out to see Jake hunched over on the couch, face in his hands. 
You walked out of the room, the sound of your bare feet walking on the floor had Jake lifting his head, giving you a small smile, “Hey baby, you resting okay?” 
You nodded, taking note of the bags under his eyes. How tired he looked, how he seemed to barely keep his smile up. 
“Jake, are you okay?” you asked him, taking his hand into yours, and rubbing your thumb into his palm. 
Jake just nodded, leaning back onto the couch, “I’m just exhausted. They sent me home early because I almost fell asleep on a computer tower I was working on.” 
You bit your lip as you squeezed his hand. Jake has been working so hard for you. Barely getting enough sleep. If he wasn’t at work, he was at home helping to take care of you. You couldn’t help but feel guilty. 
Jake could see the worry in your eyes, quickly trying to blink away the sleep and sat back up, taking both of his hands to your belly and resting his forehead against the middle, “Don't look at me like that,” he whispered, “It’s all for you, for us. It’s going to be worth it once this little one is here.” 
You tangled your fingers into his hair, taking a deep breath in. Jake is almost as stubborn as Jay when it comes to putting his mind to something. You knew no matter how much you told him to rest or not worry about you, he was going to do everything anyway. 
Jake’s hand moved to your hips and softly squeezed, leaving a few kisses on your clothed belly, “Even when you’re fixing to burst open you’re still so sexy, YN.” 
A heat wave went through your body, and you started acting on instinct. 
You placed your hands on his shoulders, slowly pressing him back onto the couch. Jake looks up at you, seeing the lust that filled your eyes now. Seeing the want to take care of him. 
He had to admit, it got his cock hard so fast. 
Jake watched as you sank down to your knees, crossing your legs underneath you for better balance, hands now at the button of his jeans.
“Baby—“ 
You cut him off, “Let me take care of you,” you said it more as a warning than anything else, making him know damn well he better sit back and relax, “You’ve been taking such good care of me, let me repay it.” 
Jake didn’t even attempt to start arguing, not after you slid his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, his cock slapping against his abdomen from being set free. The tip already red and angry and leaking with precum. Jake bit his lips, any exhaustion he had was out the window as he watched you take his length in your hands, extending your tongue and licking him from his balls all the way up his shaft and to the tip. Flattening your tongue over the top and pressing the precum, mixing it with your saliva. 
Jake couldn’t hold his moans back, mostly not after you placed the tip between your lips, slowly sucking it as your tongue wrapped around it then releasing it with a pop. 
You fluttered your eyes up to him, seeing the way your boyfriends pupils were already so blown out. Loving how furrowed his brows were and how his mouth opened a gap. You smirked at him, keeping eye contact as you stretched your tongue out again and licked up his shaft. 
“Fuck, baby,” he hissed, hands gripping the cushions of the couch, “Fuck fuck fuck, stop teasing me.” 
You hummed against his cock, placing soft kisses up the shaft and at the tip then finally taking him completely in your mouth. 
Jake flung his head back as he felt your mouth slide down him, the tip hitting the back off your throat and squeezing around him, a wet moan leaving his plump lips. 
You squeezed your thighs together, the moan Jake let out sent chills down your spine and to your heat. You had to be dripping out of your panties after that moan, because fuck it was hot. 
You bobbed your head up and down, taking every inch of him as your hands squeezed his thighs. Tongue working its magic as it wrapped around him, giving that extra pleasure. 
Jake set his head back up, looking down at you all pretty between his legs, sucking him off like the good girl you are, taking such good care of him. 
Jake was losing his mind, seeing the way you sucked his dick, with how you gripped onto his thighs. Wearing that pretty blue sleep dress to help keep the comfort while pregnant. It was so fucking hot to him. 
Here you were, knocked the fuck up and still down on your knees for him. Sucking him like your life depended on it. Jake could cum just from watching you. 
His cock twitched and he hissed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. 
“Baby,” he cooed, running a finger down your jaw and your eyes fluttered up to him, still not slowing down your movements, “I’m fixing—fuck—to cum,” he flung his head back, but then quickly set it back up, “I wanna cum in your pussy.” 
You released him from your mouth, using his thighs, with the help of his hands pulling you up. 
Jake carefully laid you down on your back against the couch, hands lifting up your blue dress until it was now on the floor, hands flicking back to your hips and removing your panties, leaving you completely bare to him. 
You reached for his shirt, hands gliding up his body, fingers tracing over his abs and chest as he helped you remove that last bit of clothing from him. 
Jake lined his cock to your entrance, hands resting on your knees, looking to you for the nod of approval then sliding himself in. 
You gasp as he bottoms out, then pulls himself halfway out, then slams back into you.
Jake bit his lips as he watched the way your body reacted to him deep inside you, watching as you moaned and whimpered under him. Even though you did all this to take care of him, Jake wasn’t going to let himself finish without you getting some taken care of too. 
So his fingers got to work on your clit as he pounded into you. Jake was already close and knew he was going to bust before you did, but he didn’t care. He continued to fuck into you until his seed spilled in you, his hips staggering as he did two last hard thrusts then held his hips in place, making sure every last drop of his cum stayed inside you. His fingers are working faster now. 
Your moaning got louder. The sensation of Jake pressed up against your cervix with his fingers on your clit was driving you mad. You couldn’t form any sentences, could barely even think of a sentence. 
“Oh? Fucked you dumb?” Jake cooed, licking his bottom lip, and slowly started moving his hips again, “All you know is my cock right now? Right baby?” 
You nodded, feeling your climax fast approaching. 
Jake thought he would be finished after cumming, but seeing how fucked out you were made his dick twitch and wanting more. He couldn’t help it, you looked too sexy laying there under him to not move his hips again. Regardless of how overstimulating he felt right now. It just added to the moment. 
“Fuck I love you so much,” he whispered, snapping his hips faster, his cum now leaking out of your hole and dripping down onto the couch, “Here you are fixing to give birth and still caring more about taking care of me and my needs? God, what did I do to deserve you?” 
The knot snapped and your orgasm washed over you. Jake pumped into you faster now, both hands being back on your knees, mixing your cum together. 
“Thank you,” Jake groaned, “Thank you for never giving up on me,” he ran his hands down to your thighs, gripping the plush tightly, “Even after everything we’ve been through, after the shit I put you through. You stayed by me, continued to love me—fuck—thank you, baby, for never giving up on me, on us. And I promise you,” Jake reached his second climax faster than expected, but he didn’t care, letting the white ropes shoot deep inside your cunt, hips pinning so hard against your thighs you’re sure bruises will be there in the morning, “I won’t give up on us, I’ll never give up on us, on you, or this family.” 
You exhaustedly smiled up at your boyfriend, looking at him with endearment as you reached both arms up to his shoulders and pulled him down to you. Jake hovered carefully, his hand gripping the back of the couch as his lips connected to yours. 
He rests his forehead against yours, smiling and chuckling as he struggles to catch his breath after cumming twice. 
How did he actually get so lucky to call you his?
You woke up in a pained sweat, your body sitting up quickly as your hands reached for your lower stomach. 
It was only five pm, and the apartment was quiet except for the sounds of Jake’s soft snores as he slept beside you, the other three being at work. 
“Jake,” you barely were able to mumble out, reaching a hand from your stomach to tap his bare back, “Jake.” 
Jake sniffled and hummed, not moving. 
You sat up more, feeling the wetness soaking the bed sheets. 
“Jake,” you cried out, shoving his shoulder the best you could, sending his head shooting up and looking at you, “Jake.” 
All it took was one look and Jake knew what was happening. 
“Shit!” he cursed, jumped from the bed, and ran to the closet, grabbing a pair of clothes for you and himself. 
Jake helped you dress as fast as he could before dressing himself and helping you to your feet and out of the apartment. 
You still weren’t due for another few days but Jake never has been so happy to already have his time off from work. 
Crazy how the small nap the two of you decided to take would end with your child deciding to gift the world its presence. Even though nerve-racking, Jake wouldn’t help the excitement. 
Jake was speeding down the street, fumbling with his phone to call Jay while telling you to keep breathing. 
Jay answered on the second ring. 
“What’s up, man? I am in the mid—“ 
“Her water broke,” Jake interrupted. 
“What?” Jake could hear the panic in your brother's voice. 
“YN’s water broke!” 
“Oh fuck,” there was fumbling around in the background and the sound of Jay’s shoes hitting the pavement to show he’s running, followed up by a “My sister’s water broke, I gotta go!” more running then a car door being shut, “Please get her to the hospital safe, I’ll be there shortly.” 
“Call Hee and Hoon and all our parents too,” Jake was barely able to say, the nerves settling in even more, “I need to focus on YN. Can you also go back to the apartment? I forgot the extra bag of things for her night stay.” 
Jay agreed, “Get me sister there safe,” and then the call ended. 
Jake tossed his phone onto his lap, reaching his hand over onto your stomach, rubbing it gently, “Just keep breathing baby, okay?” 
You nodded, feeling lightheaded and like you were about to pass out. 
Before you knew it, you lay on the hospital bed with nurses and doctors surrounding your lower half. Jake stood by your side squeezing your hand tightly and sending words of encouragement that you could barely hear over the sound of your ears ringing from pushing. 
This was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt, but you knew once your baby was out, it would always be worth it. 
Jake leaned his head against yours, placing kisses on your brow, and continued his words of encouragement, “That’s it, baby, you’re doing great. Keep pushing.” 
You gave one final push, and the pain was easing up. Jake’s head whipped to your lower half as the sound of crying now filled the room. 
You took some deep breaths and relaxed your body, but you noticed Jake’s hand was still squeezing yours. You tried to call him, but eyes never once left your baby as the doctors and nurses took them to a small table, bathing your child clean, their little cries getting louder. 
One of the nurses noticed Jake’s stare, her smile growing wide after the other nurses finished wrapping your baby in a blanket. 
“Want to come meet your daughter, dad?” the nurse said. 
Daughter. He had a daughter. 
Jake opens his mouth to speak, hands trembling. 
“Babe,” Jake hears you call to him, “Go meet our daughter.” 
He finally looks down at you, only seeing how big your smile is even after the exhaustion of pushing out a whole human being. 
So he nodded, finally letting go of your hand, and with shaky legs walked over to the table. 
Jake fell to his knees. One look was all it took. One look at his daughter and everything in life made sense. One look and his life finally had even more purpose than before. One look and that sweet baby girl became the center of his world. 
Oh, he was fucked. 
The nurses helped Jake back to his knees, teasing him about being a first-time dad, and encouraged him to hold his baby girl. 
Tears filled Jake’s eyes as he picked her up, her cries finally disappearing the moment she locked eyes with him as if she knew she was safe and sound in the arms of her father. 
The tears fell down his cheeks, smiling big as he let out a soft chuckle, turning to face you as he rocked her in his arms, “She has the Park nose.” 
You let out a small giggle because of course she does. You’ve never heard the end of how people knew you and Jay were related by similar noses. But you were glad she did have the Park nose. 
The longer Jake stared down at his little girl, the more he saw himself in her. Mostly her eyes, the same beautiful brown that he has. 
“We created this,” Jake cried, finally walking back to your side, “We created this beautiful piece of life.” 
You reached for your daughter, Jake slowly and carefully placing her in your arms. And oh the sobs that escaped your mouth. 
She was so beautiful. Everything about her was beautiful. She was a spitting image of Jake, with small hints of you. 
Jake pulled a chair up to the bed, sitting as close to you as he could, wrapping his arm over your arms that held your daughter, his thumb grazing the back of your hand. 
Her small eyes looked back at him and gave a small yawn. His heart nearly stopped, mouthing opening and voice speaking before he realized. 
“Hwa Young,” he softly said. 
You didn’t take your eyes off your daughter to know what Jake meant, “Beautiful Little Flower,” you whispered. 
“Beautiful Little Flower,” Jake repeated, his smile growing again. 
“Hwa Young Sim,” you smiled, finally turning to face your boyfriend, “Babe, it’s the perfect name.” 
Jake quickly leaned over to kiss you, not being able to get enough of your lips on his at this moment. Hwa was finally here in both your arms, your little family finally completely together. 
Hwa’s soft yawn had you two pulling away from each other, eyes filling with endearment at how her nose scrunches when she yawns. 
You gently traced your fingers over her face, wanting to outline this moment in memory. 
Jake watched as you did it, eyes going back and forth between you and Hwa. Knowing this is what he wanted for the rest of his life. 
“YN?” 
You looked up at your boyfriend, giving him a smile, “Hmm?” 
“Let’s get married.” 
You stare at him, tears filling his eyes once again as he leaned back in to kiss you more then slowly fell back into his seat. 
“Let’s get married,” Jake repeated again, “Marry me.” 
You cried again, nodding and chanting out strings of “Yes yes yes.” 
This might have been Jake’s happiest moment of his life and knew this happiness was never going to fade. He has you. He has Hwa. He has Jay, Heeseung, Sunghoon, his older brother, and his parents. There’s nothing else Jake needed. He has it all now. 
You started to ask where your brother was when the door to the hospital room flew open and everyone’s eyes went to the door. 
Jay stood in the doorway, your duffle bag in hand. 
“I came as quickly as I could, Heeseung and Sunghoon are…on the way.” 
You smiled up at your brother as his eyes were locked into Hwa in your arms. 
“Jongseong, my big brother, want to come meet your niece?”  
Jay almost lost his balance, dropping the duffle bag to the floor and gripping to the wall. Jake couldn’t help but laugh. 
“My niece?” Jay’s heart was pounding. He has a niece. He’s an uncle. Oh my god, he has a niece. 
“We’re both fucked, brother,” Jake teased, “We are done for.” 
Jay slowly walked over to your bedside, watching as you slowly lifted his niece up and into his arms. Jake was right, they both were fucked. Because the moment Jay fully held her in his arms and looked into those eyes, he was done for. Jay became putty in this little girl's hands. She has him wrapped around her finger and his entire world. The protection Jay felt for her was on the same level he had for you, and you could see it in his eyes as he held Hwa. That big brother protection spell overflowing onto her. It made you smile, knowing she would be so loved and protected like you are. 
Jay fought to hold back his tears as he rocked her in his arms, “My sweet niece…” 
“Hwa Young Sim,” Jake said with a big smile, “Beautiful Little Flower.” 
Jay chuckled, “It fits her so well…Little Hwa. Oh my god, she has the Park nose.” 
Everyone in the room laughed as Jay continued to coo over Hwa. Kissing her forehead softly and whispering how he’ll be the best uncle for her, to protect her with everything. It made tears swell back into your eyes. 
Jay chuckled again, “She is a spitting image of you, Jake. An exact copy and paste, it’s crazy.” 
Heeseung, Sunghoon, and even Shotaro rounded the corner of the door frame, the three of them immediately crumbling the moment they laid eyes on Hwa. 
Baby girl has only been born for twenty minutes and she already has everyone in the room wrapped around her fingers and falling to their knees. 
“We’re uncles!!” Sunghoon cheered, taking Hwa from Jay. 
Jake and you watched as your parents pulled in one by one, everyone taking turns holding your daughter and showing her all the love she deserves. 
Jake rests his forehead against yours, tangling his fingers around yours, “Baby?” he hummed, “Let’s have another one, ya?” 
‧₊˚✧THE END✧˚₊‧
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—tags: @ikeuverse @slutforsjy @hanjisunginc @alvojake @lhsvibez @wonsbaer @zeeloveshee @jjknoir @jaeyunq @jaklvbub @woniebae @jeongingf1 @haelahoops @willgrysn @in-somnias-world @lovelyikeu @ilikekpop-c @moonrachas @misssparklyprincess @eddieeddiesblog @kaykay11sworld @tasnim10 @kangnina @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @mymemoriesandmelodies @iselltulips @jooniesbears-blog @shawnyle @brownsugarbaybee @woahsehun @laurradoesloveu @citylightsdoll @simjyunnie @cmoundiamante @caramelcandescence @lavenderiridescence @niniissus @hearts4elle @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @fried-bread071696 @coolwitu @kyeoluvr @crimnalseung @jwnghyuns @woninluv @fakeuwus @simhinata
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marvelouslizzie · 9 months
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A Lonely Night
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summary: Your crush on your roommate gets out of hand. His smile ruins you in a way you never expected.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader 
word count: 1.9K
warnings: 18+, masturbation (fingering, vibrator use), fantasies, daddy kink, no mention of y/n 
A/N: I actually planned this as a 3 part story where we see his POV as well. I hope to write the remaining 2 parts. I hope my inspiration lasts.
The gif represents the smile that ruined the reader. Who can blame her?
Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing on such short notice. You're a lifesaver!
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.
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You don’t know how you ended up here. You had no intention of doing something like this. You didn’t intend to think about sex at all, especially not while your roommate is home. But when you saw his charming smile and those shiny blue eyes, you felt a jolt of electricity running through your body. It somehow felt like a 0.5-millisecond orgasm. It doesn’t matter how short it was, though, because you can feel the dampness of your panties, so you have no other choice but do something about it.
The TV is on, and it sounds like Bucky is watching the news. That’s not the sexiest thing to hear while touching yourself, yet you are grateful there’s something that covers the noises you make. It’s not like you are a really loud person. Especially not while touching yourself, but this time… You feel there’s something different about this time. The way your body responds to your own touch is not something you’ve experienced before. Neither is the wetness that is dripping out of you. It’s like your body is desperate for this. Desperate for attention and release.
You keep rubbing your pussy, touching all the different spots that make yourself feel good, and your whole body starts to shake, your ears buzzing, and your mind completely blank except for the image of Bucky. His smile and those blue eyes... You want him to be on top of you, touching you the way you like it, fingering you, telling you to be a good girl for him, and making you come over and over again. Then when you think it’s over you want him to push himself inside you, making your abused pussy clench with need. You can imagine how tired you would feel yet how wonderful it would be to finally have him inside you. He would start slowly, making you ask for it. You would either beg him to give you a break because you can’t come one more time or beg him to go harder, faster so you can just lose yourself. The thought of him consumes you while you are coming. It’s such a sweet orgasm, not all-consuming. It feels like you are floating in the air. So good. Exactly what you needed. What you don’t expect is how long it lasts. 
You don’t remember the last time you felt like this. Self-pleasuring is something you do often, but it never felt this good. Normally you would be done by now: already reached the top and breathing heavily while enjoying your after-glow, but this time it’s like your body wants even more. You can’t stop touching yourself. It just doesn’t stop feeling good, no overstimulation. At least not yet.
So if your body wants more, you are going to give it more. You will continue until you feel absolutely satisfied. That’s why you keep touching yourself, testing what feels the best and using your wetness. You haven’t used an ounce of lube since you started and yet your fingers are unbelievably sticky. You can’t help yourself but raise on your elbows and look at your pussy. You move your fingers apart and the wetness creates a bridge between them.
“Oh my god…”
He just gave you the most charming smile on the face of the earth. Nothing more. Why are you so freaking wet?
You can actually think of a couple of reasons. One of them is not having sex for a while. You don’t remember when was the last time. You can only remember it wasn’t impressive so you came home and took your vibrator out and rode it until you collapsed on the bed, finally feeling satisfied enough to sleep. Since then, you either used your fingers or your vibrator to get off, and your body needed more. A lot more.
The other reason is, your growing crush on Bucky. You knew this would be a problem when you decided to be roommates with him, yet it didn’t stop you. It’s delightful to see his handsome face every day, but it’s also torture. Seeing him getting out of the shower, with only a towel around his waist, or half naked while working out… It’s impossible not to get a crush. And on top of that, he’s super kind. Always considering you. He doesn’t sleep much, you know that, but he never makes any noise at night. Never disturbs you. Never eats your food. He never even brought someone over. At least not yet. You are dreading the day that might happen. It will hurt so badly, and there’ll be nothing you can do about it. Maybe that will help you get over your silly crush. But truth be told, you’d rather have it forever than hear him fucking someone else.
You keep rubbing yourself, over and over again until your head is thrown back. There’s this hunger building inside you. God, you feel like begging even though you are the one touching yourself.
“Please, please, please…” You try to be as quiet as possible. It’s just a whisper.
“I really need it, please…”
You do. You really do. You need to come so hard that you can’t breathe. Maybe then it will be enough. Maybe then you will feel satisfied. Your fingers start working even faster. You can feel your second orgasm, but there’s something on the back of your mind that’s holding you back. The thought of Bucky finding you like this. You don’t want that to happen. So you are holding back a little. You can’t risk it, can you? Otherwise, you won’t be able to look at him. You keep rubbing different spots trying to find the best one for this orgasm. Nothing works until you hear a sound from the living room. Probably Bucky moving around in the apartment. Somehow that sets you off. Your orgasm comes crashing in, taking your breath away while you silently keep touching yourself. You keep going until you can’t anymore. You feel buzzed, breathing heavily. That might be the best orgasm you had lately. You take a deep breath in, and then out. The thought of him catching you was terrifying yet you couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop. Can you be actually terrified and excited at the same time? If so, that’s exactly how you felt.
You lay there, in the comfort of your bed, and try to collect your mind. A part of you feels guilty because of what you’ve just done. Not the masturbation part, but pleasuring yourself at the thought of Bucky because he has no idea. He probably never even looked at you like that. Still, you can’t help but feel attraction, and it’s not just a physical thing. His personality is making everything worse. If he was just an asshole, everything would be easier, but he had to be the most amazing guy you’ve ever met. So, it’s his fault if you are masturbating to the thought of him, right? He’s just too perfect.
You breathe in and out, trying to deal with the guilt and your racing thoughts. Normally, this would be more than enough. Two back-to-back orgasms and the second one was so fucking intense yet you can still feel the need. It’s right there. Your core is silently begging while your wetness keeps dripping out of you. When you close your eyes and imagine Bucky pushing himself inside you, your muscles contract and your whole body begs for more.
Sighing, you open your bedside drawer. Here it is, your beloved vibrator. You close the drawer and look at it for a couple of seconds, trying to decide if you should really do this. He’s still in the living room, you can still hear the TV. It’s possible you might get caught, yet the hunger inside you takes over any rational thought. 
After a couple of seconds, you finally give in. Slowly, you push the vibrator inside you and your pussy clenches around it. Even without moving or turning it on, it feels amazing. The feeling of being full… You missed it so much. Then you start to move it in and out, slowly. You close your eyes and imagine it’s a real cock inside you, but it’s hard to get lost in that thought. The texture of the vibrator is far from realistic and the size isn’t that impressive. When that doesn’t work out, you turn it on and let yourself feel it. It’s better. Much better but still not enough. 
“God…” You complain silently while changing your position. You flip around and go on all fours, pushing your ass out as much as you can, the way you would do during sex. That finally hits the spot. You grab your pillow with haste and push your face into it, trying to cover any noise you might make.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your muffled moans can’t reach Bucky. He’s watching the TV after all.
“Yess, right there.” The words leave your lips before you are able to process them. Where are these words coming from? Who are you talking to? Is it a fantasy? You don’t know, but it feels good to let it out.
“Oh please, fuck me.” You try to push all the rational thoughts aside. It’s not the time for that.
“Fuck me, daddy, please.” You close your eyes and imagine Bucky again. Him taking his sweet time, edging you until you beg for release. You would give anything, absolutely anything to do this with him.
“Harder, please, daddy, I need it harder,” you mumble and then turn and press the vibration button again. It starts to pulse faster inside you and you feel like there is no air in your lungs anymore. You choke for a second, raising your head up from the pillow, and take a deep breath while your orgasm rips you apart. It’s nothing like you’ve experienced before. A part of your brain thinks you’re unlocking another level of orgasm while the other part is trying to enjoy this feeling while it lasts.
“Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” You let your head fall back on the pillow as you keep imagining Bucky. You have no idea how long your orgasm actually lasts. It’s definitely the longest one you’ve ever had. When your pussy starts to feel too sensitive you take out the vibrator and turn it off. 
Finally, you are feeling satisfied. You place the vibrator on top of your nightstand while you get on your back again. After taking a couple of deep breaths, you notice the lack of TV noise.
Shit.
Why did he turn the TV off? And more important, when? You look at the clock on the wall in front of you and the news program is not over yet. Did he hear you? 
God, please... Don’t let that happen.
You quickly stand up, putting your clothes back on quickly, and then you open the door as carefully as possible. The living room is empty. All you can hear is the shower running.
Thank god!
Bucky is taking a shower. So even with no TV on, he couldn’t have possibly heard you. The sound of the water would cover your moans, right? You hope so at least.
You go back to your room, clueless about the fact that Bucky heard everything, how he paid attention to every single detail, trying to memorize how you sound while coming. How you moan, how you rub yourself, and how needy you are.
Feeling like a creep, he jumped in the shower. Clearly, you were imagining someone else, and he had no right to listen to something as private as this. Yet he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t stop imaging how it would be the one that you call daddy. And he definitely couldn't stop his left hand from wrapping around his cock.
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roseykat · 5 months
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TITLE: Play Bite
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PAIRING: Hyunjin x Jisung x female reader
SUMMARY: You, Hyunjin, and Jisung have a really fun time playing a dirty truth or dare game after the plans for everyone to go out failed. Part 1 to the 'Play' series.
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.
Part 1 - Play Bite Part 2 - Play Fight Part 3 - Play Right
TAGS: Hyunjin, Jisung, and reader have all consumed alcohol but are not fully drunk, smut, kissing, hickies, making out, dirty texts, dirty talk, erotic truth or dares, use of pet names such as 'bub', 'baby' and 'pretty', swearing, food play (nothing heavy), solo orgasm, female masturbation, suggestive material, very vague mentions of choking (not emphasised), slight traces of top!Jisung.
MASTERLIST
A/N: Think of this as a prelude to this hard thought I posted a while ago. If you haven't read it, it will give you some context into what will come in the future for this type of concept. Also just to preface but not give away too many spoilers, nobody is cheating in this story.
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“Remove one piece of clothing, socks do not count,” Jisung reads aloud from the card in his hand. 
It’s the third task into the deck of dirty truth or dare at Hyunjin's apartment. After the entire group’s plan to go out for the night fell through when it started pelting down, it was in all three of your guys’ best interests to not waste the night. So, although he invited the rest of the group over for drinks, only you and Jisung decided to go around. 
An hour later into the night and already just past the point of tipsy, the three of you progressed to playing games. A set of dirty truth or dare cards was the first thing that caught Jisung’s keen eye as he analysed the plethora of games that Hyunjin had on a shelf in his living room. 
“You’re not even wearing socks, so you have no choice,” Hyunjin chuckles, almost evilly.
Jisung dons his best thinking face, eyes narrowing as he tries to come up with which item of clothing he wants to take off. He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls the entire fabric up and over his head before placing it beside him, careful not to knock over his drink. 
Your eyes glue to his gorgeous bare top half for a few seconds too long before averting them to the floor like you weren’t supposed to look at him. It’s not like you’ve never seen him topless before in all of his honey toned glory. Almost always will Jisung proudly walk around half naked unprovoked when you’re around him. 
“Your turn bub,” he continued.
You clear your throat then lean over to pick a card up from the middle, then read it out loud, “oh…”
“What’s it say?” Jisung peeks his head over to see what’s written down before his jaw unhinges. “Let the person to your left select an area of your body for them to give you a hickey. Wow.”
Hyunjin, to your left, stares back at you in shock and horror. His cheeks were ballooned and full of liquid after taking a large swig of his drink before setting it down. The more silent seconds that tick by, the more flips his stomach keeps doing. But, he had to expect the unexpected with this game.
You and Jisung were ready to play by the rules and Hyunjin wasn’t going to exempt himself from it just because of the card you pulled. 
He swallows the mouthful of alcohol, “alright. Are you okay with me doing this?”
You nod even though you can feel your heart picking up its pace, “I am.”
He takes your answer and runs with it then ponders on the best place to plant a hickey on your body. It doesn’t take him long to think of a number of unspoken places where he would and even though he’s tipsy enough to disclose those areas, he decides to keep that to himself. 
“Okay, can you lie down for me then?” He asks. 
“Lie down?”
“Mm, otherwise it might be awkward to reach,” he explains vaguely. 
You start jumping to conclusions at the instant you hear his request, yet your mind is so hazy that your body just ends up listening to what Hyunjin has asked of you instead. You end up lying back on the floor, your head next to Jisung’s thigh who looks down at you while Hyunjin moves. 
His long body straddles yours but not fully putting his weight down on you. With his hand, he pulls back some of your hair so he can reach the area he wants before gently tilting your chin up and to the side towards Jisung. 
Hyunjin then sinks his face down just to the side of your throat and sucks. For a second, your body squirms at the slight achy pang that he brings to the surface of your skin. Still, with the way that your body is buzzing, it undoubtedly feels amazing. He remains there for a few seconds and uses his tongue to swipe over the surface he just marked.  
Jisung watches with his mouth ajar. He takes in the contorted look of concentration on your face, the way your eyelids flutter closed. 
It’s not long after until Hyunjin peels himself off of you then takes your hand to help you sit back up again. In hindsight, you wonder if it was all but necessary to lie down for him in order to give you a hickey. But Hyunjin’s thinking was that to reach your throat, you had to be on the ground. 
“That might’ve been-“ his face contorts with worry just looking at the fresh, deep and reddish mark. “A bit much, sorry.”
“It’s fine,” you respond, trying to act cool under the pressure. “It felt nice anyway. Okay, Hyunnie’s turn.” 
He draws another card, reading it in his mind before his eyes dart to Jisung, “make out…with the person beside you for one minute.”
“W-Which side?” You ask. 
“My left which is-“
“Me,” Jisung responds, pointing at his chest. “Alright then.”
Hyunjin stares blankly at his friend, unsure if he's joking or not, “wait, you’re…you’re serious?”
Jisung shifts his body closer to Hyunjin, his face nearing him, “that’s the game right?”
“Y-Yeah,” he replies sheepishly. “Yeah, okay then.”
“I can set a timer,” you announce.
He’s never done this before - kissed a friend, made out with a friend. For one, Hyunjin knows Jisung has done so multiple times, having been an impartial witness to it. Whether it was while Jisung was drunk, sober, high, it happened. Even with the same gender. 
“Alright,” you say, pulling out your phone as you go to the clock app to set a timer for one minute and place it on the ground. “3, 2, 1, go.”
You’re not sure who it was first that leaned in for the kiss after being so warped by the fact that they were even doing this. It was like Hyunjin offered his mouth and Jisung went for the kill. Both of them started off slowly by the time ten seconds hit. Twenty seconds in and Hyunjin’s hand comes up to the side of his friends’ face when the kiss deepens even further. 
You watch the glide of their tongues move so languidly with one another, doing unspeakable things in between your legs. Similar to Jisung’s reaction when Hyunjin gave you a hickey, your mouth was on the floor. There’s no way in hell could you ignore how hot it was to see them make out. 
After forty seconds, the pace had picked up a notch as they continued to move in sync with one another. Jisung’s hand had made it onto Hyunjin’s lap with some unintentional plan of slowly hiking up his thigh. In his mind, the more touch, the better. He already felt floaty because of the alcohol. Now Jisung touching him, kissing him, was an enhancement. 
At the mark of one minute, your phone rudely blares its alarm. Hyunjin pulls away with red lips, Jisung’s as equally as glossy as the other. They stall for a second, almost as if they briefly thought about going back at it again…
“Minho was right,” Jisung breaks the silence willingly. “You are a pretty good kisser.”
“What?” Hyunjin exclaims, his eyes almost popping out of his head. 
“What?” He whines. “He and I were trying to figure out who in the group would be the best kisser. Minho reckons you are.”
“You say that as if you’ve kissed everyone in the group to try and find that out,” You realise. 
“Well I just kissed him, so it’s everyone except for you now. Which there’s still time for since it’s my turn now,” he responds in a slightly hopeful tone and picks up his next card. “Huh, maybe not - what’s the most amount of times you’ve had sex in one day?” 
“Is that the first truth question?” Hyunjin points out, trying to subtly keep himself calm after what just went down with Jisung. 
“I think so,” you reply. “We’re nowhere near halfway through the deck.” 
“Three and a half,” Jisung answers. 
“And a half?” You and Hyunjin parrot in unison, the confusion very present in both of your tones.
“Halfway through the act, got caught, had to wrap it up and leave,” Jisung explains very succinctly. “It would’ve been four if it weren’t for fucking Seungmin. Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m holding a grudge or anything.”
“Sure,” you trail off, trying your best not to laugh at his misfortune while you go to pick up a card. “Uh, lend your phone to the person on your right and let them send a dirty text to someone in your contacts.”
Jisung claps excitedly, “hand it over baby!” 
You roll your eyes, reluctantly passing him your device, “anyone except my family otherwise I probably won’t live to see another day.” 
He takes your phone earnestly with a cheeky and devious expression before delving righteously into your contacts list, “don’t worry, I wouldn’t do anything like that.”
Jisung’s thumb scrolls excitedly trying to find the right person to send the right message to. He pauses over a couple of names and then finds one he thinks will give the most entertaining response. He creates a new message and types in what he wants to say.  
From You: I’m horny. Come over and fuck me.
The silence was palpable as the fate of your dignity rests in your friends’ hands. Once the message is sent, Jisung keeps your phone on standby while you all wait for the response. The sheer riskiness of the dare calls for you to pick up your drink and finish the rest off, knowing that you’re going to need it. 
“What did you write?” You ask him anyway, setting your empty glass aside. 
He looks smugly at the screen again and repeats what he created, “I’m horny, come over and fuck me.”
Your eyes widen in horror, “t-that’s not…who did you send that to!?”
“That’s a bit straightforward isn’t it?” Hyunjin laughs. 
“Doesn’t matter now, your turn, go,” Jisung nods to you.
“Fine,” you groan, snatching up a card. “How many times a day do you get off? Once, maybe twice. Done. Next, you go.” 
Hyunjin blinks in surprise at the information you so rapidly provided and leans into the circle to grab his card, “alright. Choose one person to sit in between your legs for the remainder of the game.” 
“I think considering that he and I just made out, it’s your turn to do something now,” Jisung smoothly contends his point before you could even get a word out. 
“Fair enough,” you respond coolly.
The move is practically childsplay in comparison to what they’ve done so far. Nonetheless, it quickly proved itself to be rather effective on your body. 
Hyunjin tries not to grin and spreads his legs for you to slot perfectly in between them. You’ve been this close to him before - in a hug at least. But never has Hyunjin been as acutely intimate with you as of right now. As he’s pressed up behind you, it’s hopeless to try not to be so affected by such subtlety. The warmth from his body glows like a heater onto your back and the steadiness of his breathing is comforting. 
“Sungie’s turn,” he says from behind you. 
Another card is taken from the deck and Jisung reads once more, “feed someone a food item with your mouth. Okay, but what kind of food?” 
“There’s that bowl of grapes just there on the coffee table,” Hyunjin points over to it. 
Jisung spins around on the floor and sees the assortment of snacks that they had laid out on the table earlier on. He turns back with the entire silver bowl in his lap, popping a couple of them in his mouth and eating away to his heart's content before proceeding with the dare. 
“You’re breathing heavy,” Hyunjin whispers teasingly in your ear while Jisung isn’t looking. 
“S-Shut up,” you utter back to him, trying not to act so utterly embarrassed by the truth he’s managed to highlight. 
Jisung pops in two more grapes and goes to sit beside you before talking with his mouth full, “bo’ o’ ya.”
“Huh?” Hyunjin retorts, trying to decipher what his friend is saying. 
You ponder for a second, “I think he said both of us?” 
Your guess comes up as correct because without a proper verbal answer from Jisung, his actions spoke louder. He leans towards your face first - closer than it has ever been since you’ve known him. The purple grape sits between his teeth as he goes to pass it to you by his mouth. It was awkward to manoeuvre at first, but the pair of you discovered that using your lips is key. By that point, Jisung manages to exchange the fruit as you crush down on the grape that explodes with such a sweet flavour. 
Then, he moves a bit behind you to reach Hyunjin. Both of them struggle to pass the grape without fully touching each other's lips once more. Then again, that was the point of the card that Jisung pulled. 
“Yummy?” he asks, sliding back to his original spot with the bowl. 
“Mm,” Hyunjin hums while he chews. “Sweet.” 
Half of the stuff that you’ve done so far with them makes you realise that you’re not that nervous to do these kinds of things. It could’ve been the alcohol, that definitely helps. But also because they’re two of your best friends and wherever they are, you feel safe in their proximity. 
“My turn,” you say as Jisung picks the top card off of the deck and slides it to you across the floor. “Oh - same as Sungie’s, remove a piece of clothing, socks do not count. Isn’t this just a forfeit card since it’s already been picked up?”
“No, not necessarily?” Hyunjin answers. “Plus, what if you forfeit that one and pick another one but it’s worse?”
He had a good point. It was a very mellow dare in comparison to the others you’ve all completed. With that in mind, your hands find their way down to your shorts, contemplating whether to take them off or not. Considering Jisung already has his top off, you went for the opposite in a sudden spur of confidence that was short lived when you saw the look on your friend's face. 
Jisung’s eyes couldn’t leave where your hands moved as you freed your legs from the fabric, allowing you to remain in your underwear. However, it becomes very apparent to you that taking your pants off wasn’t such a good idea when you know that you’re wet. Whether they knew it, particularly Jisung who had a full view of you, was too late. 
Behind you, Hyunjin was trying to keep himself calm as you moved around a bit, “w-who’s turn is it now?” 
Jumping onto a different topic gave time for Jisung to blink away from your body. He feels guilty for even staring at you like that in the first place. Then again, it’s not like you weren’t doing the same ever since he took his shirt off. 
“Yours actually,” you answer and without any spatial awareness whatsoever, you lean forward just a bit to pick up a card for Hyunjin that your ass slightly pushes back into his crotch in the process. 
After the fact of the matter, you realise what you’ve done. But it wasn’t intentional. You just wanted to pick up a card for him so that he didn’t have to move from behind you. As you come back to sit between his legs properly, you feel his forehead rest against the back of your head - a silent sign to prove he definitely recognised what you did to him.
Although he didn’t say anything because what was there to say to that? In hindsight, it might’ve been better forJisung to just read it out for Hyunjin. 
“H-Here,” you offer the card to him, playing it off. 
He lifts his head back up from yours and takes the item, “what is your dirtiest fantasy and why?” 
Right now if Hyunjin was able to answer honestly, he would say ‘fucking you while his best friend watches.’ But even for a filthy game that they’re playing, he thought it would be inappropriate to say. On top of that, it’s not actually his dirtiest fantasy. He could do way worse but just doesn’t know what at this point in time in his sex life. There was still time for him to explore…
“I haven’t really got one at the moment,” says Hyunjin. “I suppose just real…rough sex.” 
Jisung immediately becomes intrigued, oblivious to the fact that Hyunjin had it in him to admit such a scandalous piece of information, “what does that mean to you though?”
He becomes even more flustered under the heat of his friends’ question, it doesn’t help that he’s nearly fully hard behind you either, “it means things like…choking or hair pulling-”
“What…you like to do those things or those things being done to yo-
“Both, I like both. Anyway, that’s not the question,” Hyunjin interrupts impatiently. “Just move on.” 
It’s difficult for you not to laugh at him, yet as you go to pick up a card - more carefully this time for Hyunjin’s sake - your smile fades quicker than you could blink. Not one doubt crossed your mind about how obscene this game could get. Yet this card refuted all of that. 
“I…get…get yourself off in front of someone,” you mumble in a very quiet voice.
“Get what?” Jisung tries to reiterate. 
Hyunjin’s brows knit in concentration as he reads the card from over your shoulder, “she has to get herself in front of someone.”
An ‘o’ forms in Jisung’s mouth before he responds to that statement, “that’s a…an interesting card.” 
The three of you fall deathly silent to the weight that the dare has you under. Your mind wants you to do it, to satiate that instinctual appetite to pleasure yourself ever since the game heated up. To do so in front of your friends doesn’t appear to be a bad idea which technically it isn’t from the way they already have you unintentionally wet. That in itself said a lot.
Therefore, you spread your legs and bend your knees. 
An expression of realisation washes over Jisung, coming to grips with what’s about to unfold. As for Hyunjin, he can only sit and remain in place as a support for you to lean against when your hand slips down the front of your underwear as you begin to rub. A sigh of warm relief then pushes past your lips. The pads of your fingers collect your damp essence to use as you circle over your clit. 
Already, a hefty volume of pressure is escalating in the pit of your tummy, tingling and spreading throughout your lower half. All from being turned on by the game. The person in front of you and behind you feel the exact same way except the one behind you was already there a long time ago. Their cocks fill out against the inside of their thighs and Hyunjin is positive that you can feel him through his pants. 
“Y/N,” Jisung says. “Does that make you feel good?”
“Jisung,” Hyunjin warns him sharply, not wanting his friend to fuel the fire that’s burning. 
“Mm, y-yes,” you stutter, breath catching at the base of your throat the more you try and push yourself towards an edge. 
It could be better though. It could be the pair of them groping and teasing your body at their will. You know that they both know how to use their mouths with the way that they made out earlier on. Not to mention from the grapevine, you’ve heard about Jisung too; how he knows how to eat pussy. Then you have Hyunjin, who just exposed his fantasy of liking having rough sex. The possibilities with his ideas would be endless and fun. 
With the pair of them, you don’t think you would ever run out of orgasms. Just thinking about it makes your fingers speed up, becoming increasingly more wetter. Your muscles jerk every now and then when you inch closer to the tail end of your orgasm, which causes you to unintentionally move against Hyunjin’s crotch once more. 
“Y/N,” Hyunjin breathes out against you. 
“Don’t touch her,” Jisung snaps. “This is her dare.”
“I-I’m not fucking touching her,” he presses back madly, then mutters just to himself as he hides behind you. “Can’t help it Jisung.”
“K-Keep watching…” you plead. “So…close.” 
Hyunjin’s nails are digging deep into the carpet beneath him and his restraint not to touch you teeters dangerously on the last millimetre of a cliff. He’s throbbing, achingly hard. For you. Jisung can see his friends' knuckles turning white but he understands. He too remains hard in his sweats, which was obvious to you. Even just the slight outline that you can see indicates to you that he’s big.
Your mind starts wondering what that sort of length would do to your body, how would it feel to have inside of you? As you ask yourself those questions, you try to imagine that sensation when you start fingering yourself. 
You whimper pathetically, curling over that sweet spongy spot, “yes, feels so good. Makes me wanna cum…” 
“Yeah? Gonna cum in front of us?” Jisung eggs you on. “Gonna make yourself cum just for us?
Your dozy eyes lock with him just for a few seconds before you nod against Hyunjin’s body, “j-just for you both.” 
“F-Fuck,” Hyunjin squeezes his eyes tight shut, gritting his teeth so much that his jaw aches. 
As that familiar euphoric bliss catches up to you, a silent scream paints over your face while your eyelids clamp shut and your eyebrows are furrowed together, focusing on the pleasure. For a moment, you’ve forgotten that Hyunjin is behind you as you can’t help but shiver helplessly against his body from the waves of your orgasm. Quiet yet very audible moans ring throughout Hyunjin’s apartment, making themselves known as you gradually come down with heavy gasps. 
“Holy shit,” Jisung murmurs in awe, he can see that you’ve soaked through your underwear. 
The large wet and sticky patch makes him want to lurch forward, tear the piece of clothing from your body and taste you for himself. To have his face buried in between your legs would be the Atlantis of his own fantasy right now, to have you use his mouth and tongue until you’re cumming all over again. 
In the moments of quiet when the still air is filled with nothing but your staggered breathing and depleted whimpers as you try to collect yourself, your phone buzzes on Jisung’s thigh - the reply to the dirty text he sent from earlier on.
He looks down at the glowing bright screen and his jaw drops to the floor once more. His mind sobers quickly.
From Chan to You: Again? Still horny from this morning? Alright then, I can come over and give you what you need x
There was no way.
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little-hermit-crab56 · 6 months
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I've been writing for a while so I thought I'd share some writing tips I've learned along the way.
1. Never sacrifice the flow for a quirky line.
That bit of dialogue or flowery paragraph you really like but it kinda disrupts the flow? Scrap it. I know it hurts, but you need to. If you really want to keep it, find somewhere else to put it where it actually fits in.
2. Dialogue is a dance.
Dialogue should go at the pace of an actual conversation, back and forth with little breaks and pauses. Add as little dialogue tags as possible while still making it clear who is speaking. You can also describe what is happening during a pause in the conversation rather than saying they paused, unless the pause is important.
3. Show don't tell is a guideline, not a rule.
Show don't tell is a very useful guideline, but if you're ALWAYS showing it can get exhausting to read. Skip the boring bits and just tell us what happened, then we can get to the good stuff.
4. If it's boring to write, it's probably boring to read.
If you can cut out a whole scene with little consequence to the story, you probably should. As I said before, you don't always have to show us, you can always tell us.
5. Everything needs to have a purpose.
I know there are probably lots of interesting or cute scenes where your characters are just fucking around, but if it doesn't develop character, relations, conflict, or plot, why should we care? Definitely still write them if they make you happy, but if you're gonna add it to your final draft, make sure it matters.
6. You don't need to explain everything all at once.
I know it feels tempting to put all the lore, and all the character's intentions, and reasonings into the first few chapters, but please refrain, you can reserve that for your character and worldbuilding sheets. Instead, take the time to let us get to know the characters, and the world, in the same way we'd get to know a real person. Make your exposition as seamless and natural as possible. It will take practice to know when to reveal information and when to let us wonder, but you'll get there.
7. Write in a way that comes naturally.
I know you probably have an author you wanna write just like, but that is unlikely to happen. Embrace your natural writing style and perfect it, rather than trying to be something you're not. Writing is an art, you need to find your own style and polish it as best you can.
8. Try to make us feel connected by cutting out certain words like "felt".
"Chad felt like a glass of water." Can be replaced with, "Chad was thirsty, so he reached for a glass of water." Both sentences tell us Chad wants a glass of water, but one makes us feel more connected to Chad than the other. Though both sentences have their time and place, you want to make your audience feel as close to their protagonist as possible. Make them feel like they're there, rather than just an onlooker.
9. We don't need to know every physical detail of your character.
I know you probably spent ages creating the perfect characters and you want to give us the perfect image of what they look like, but it can get monotonous and boring, why do we care that your character has brown eyes unless the colour has some sort of significance? Try to list off only the most notable features of your character and put focus only on the relevant details. Sometimes you can even not describe them at all and throw in little bits of information about their appearance for the audience to put together. We read to imagine, not to have a perfect image painted for us when we could be getting to the plot.
10. You're allowed to be vague.
Allow your audience to assume things, with some things you can just be lazy and let your audience's imagination do the work for you. Of course, don't do this with important things, but you can save so much time you might've spent researching an irrelevant topic when you can just be vague about it. You don't have to know everything you're writing about, so long as you know the bits that matter.
11. Writing is a skill that takes practice.
Don't be so hard on yourself if your writing is a bit cringe, we've all been there. The important part is that you research how to get better and keep writing those super cringe chapters. One day you'll reread something from a while ago and realize you're actually not as bad as you thought.
12. Leave your work to rest.
I know you wanna start editing right away, but once you've finished, leave it for at least a month. The longer you leave it the better, but that depends on your attention span. A month to six months is good if you're really impatient but want a good result. If you keep writing in that time your skills will continue to improve, then you'll be editing that draft with fresh eyes and fresh skills.
And if you're a fanfic author, I usually leave my chapters for a week before editing and posting.
Hope this helps anyone struggling, I thought this might be especially relevant now with nanowrimo.
I recently realized how much knowledge I've been accumulating over the years, I definitely have more but this is all I can think of for now.
I'm no writing guru, but if anyone has anything they're struggling with, I can do my best to help you out, so dont hesitate to ask questions.
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