#and just came out eight years (for him) after graduating

[octuscle]

Cholo Life

“First the damned Democrats stole the elections from us and now they are stealing our identity!” Manolo began to roll his eyes. He was familiar with this. When KJ worked himself into a rage, he sounded like a personal disciple of Trump. ‘I mean that they eat the cats in Springfield and the dogs, it's not just an isolated incident, they do it everywhere!’ ‘Kyle…’ Manuel began. KJ gave Manolo a friendly punch on the shoulder. He knew that when Manuel called him “Kyle,” Manolo was angry. “Of course I don't mean you,” said KJ. “You're an American through and through, you're American as peanut butter!” Of course that wasn't true. Manolo was born in Lima, went to school in Lima, and only came to Minnesota with his parents at the age of eight. But his parents had placed great importance on him learning the language quickly, and today Manolo speaks better English than his best friend from school days, KJ.

Kj, on the other hand, was a prime example of a junior at an American college: muscular, bright eyes, fair complexion, of course he played American football, and of course he parroted what Trump said without thinking. Yes, he was damn good-looking, but yes, he was also a real airhead. And even though olu secretly had a crush on KJ, KJ was out of reach for Manolo. You couldn't be more straighter than KJ.

KJ was studying business. With a bit of luck, he would at least get his bachelor's degree. Manolo had already graduated from high school two years before KJ and was about to get his bachelor's degree in biochemistry. He wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, who ran the research department of a seed company here. KJ, on the other hand, would join his father's trucking company and would alternate between driving trucks on the highways and struggling with the accounting in the office.

“Besides, you yourself admitted that you eat pets. You said that your grandmother serves guinea pigs.” ”Yes, but first of all, my grandmother doesn't steal the guinea pigs from some guys in Ohio, but has her cook buy and prepare them at the market, and secondly, guinea pigs are a delicacy where we come from. We find it rather absurd that you…” “All fake news!” KJ countered. ”Admit that the whole world would be in ruins without the USA. Our culture is simply superior!” There were situations in which Manolo was annoyed at being physically inferior to KJ. There were situations in which he just wanted to smash KJ's face in. It was really crazy that a guy who already classified cartoons as art wanted to lecture him on culture. His abuela had once given him a lucky charm that he always carried in his pocket. In situations like this, squeezing the stone firmly helped him. It drained the anger out of him. But this time was different. The stone became warm. The stone became hot! Manolo let go of it. He reached for the cold coke glass to cool his hand.

“Are you okay, hermano?” KJ asked. Manolo winced. That was the first time KJ had used a Spanish word correctly. ‘Would you order me another tequila? ¡Tengo que mear!’ Manolo looked after his friend. He had never drunk tequila before. KJ was also a feast for the eyes from behind. The torn jeans clung to his firm ass. His shoulders were broad. He was muscular. But not exaggerated. And his patriotic tattoos emphasized his masculinity. Manolo waved at the waitress and ordered two tequilas. He didn't usually drink. But maybe he could stand KJ better today if he was a little drunk.

The tequila arrived before KJ. And when KJ sat down, Manolo was playing with his cell phone. KJ took his tequila glass. “A nuestra salud y amistad, hermano” “A nuestra salud y amistad, KJ” Manolo replied distractedly, picked up the glass and was about to toast. He was frozen for a few seconds. What the hell had happened to Kyle? The smooth cheeks were covered by a hint of a beard. His tattoos had expanded. And now they had a lot more space too. Because KJ's muscles had almost exploded. His slender neck, with the Adam's apple whose movements always made Manolo so horny, had become a bull's neck tattooed all over. “Dude, you look like you've seen a ghost,” KJ said. His English had a slight Spanish accent. And there was a tear tattooed under his one eye. Manolo ordered two more tequilas… Their conversation turned into Spanglish gibberish. And at some point into Spanish. KJ got terribly worked up about the gringos. In doing so, he accidentally knocked his trucker cap off his head. He picked up a bandana and tied it around his head. KJ's gaze became somehow different. While they were talking, he played with his nipples more and more. He looked at Manolo more intensely. Somehow… lustfully? “Tengo que ir al baño otra vez. ¿Y no te gustaría venir conmigo?” KJ stood up. He was a muscleman. His tight-fitting tank top emphasized his muscles even more. With every twitch of the muscles, the tattoos moved, creating a real cartoon. His ass looked phenomenal in the pleated pants. If Manolo had to create a wank fantasy, this is what it would look like. And now the wank fantasy was telling him to follow him to the restrooms. Damn it! KJ looked like a real cholo. And he was a square college student in khakis and a button-down. Manolo hesitated for a moment. And then he followed KJ. KJ? Why “KJ”? I have no idea when the nickname developed. César Jesus should have been called CJ. But some stupid gringo hadn't understood that in elementary school. And so he had eventually become KJ. And the nickname stuck.

KJ was standing at the urinal. Manolo could see from behind that he was about to jerk off. Even though they had known each other since childhood, he had never seen KJ's cock. KJ's father had the typical conglomerate that enterprising wetbacks build. He had a few trucks that he used to transport goods or help with removals, he owned a few cafes, a laundry… And KJ was supposed to take over this small local empire at some point. His parents had always hoped that the friendship with the clever and ambitious Manolo would have a positive effect on KJ. But KJ had always been the type to hang out with the bad boys. And who could blame him? He looked just as brutal and manly as his father.

Manolo stood next to César at the urinal. César pretended not to notice Manolo. His tattooed hand jerked his cock, which was also covered in tattoos. It was a monster that offered almost as much surface area for artistic decoration as Manolo's thin forearm. César pushed up his tank top with his other hand, revealing his granite abs and finally his nipples. He played with his right nipple with his left hand. And Manolo, whose cock was almost as hard as César's muscles, couldn't help but suck on the left nipple. “Siempre supe que detrás de la fachada de empollón se escondía una zorrita,” César moaned. He let go of his nipple and pushed Manolo gently but firmly onto his knees. And Manolo greedily licked the precum from César's gleaming glans. This beast was not the first cock he sucked. But it was the biggest. And its owner was the one he wanted to satisfy more than anyone before. They had been like dissimilar brothers. Now he wanted to be this giant's whore. And César obviously wanted him to be his whore. He enjoyed the blow job and moaned loudly enough to signal to anyone who wanted to use the toilet that it was occupied. Manolo sucked César's cock and jerked his own. Both came almost simultaneously. It was impossible for Manolo to swallow all of César's cum. And his own cum splashed onto his shirt. Exhausted, he fell back. César was breathing heavily, too. “Necesitas una camisa nueva, hermanito,” he said. Manolo certainly couldn't go out like that. César took off Manolo's shirt and wiped his cum-smeared face with it. Then he took off his sweaty tank top. It was a bit difficult because it couldn't be easily pulled over his muscular body. He handed it to Manolo. Of course it was too big. But it felt good. And César would make sure that he would fill it out better soon. Today two men became real cholos.

Pics by @ki-kink

[whirlybirbs]

— CAN'T WE BE SEVENTEEN? ; shoto todoroki ; 焦凍

summary: he's loved you since he was seventeen. pairing: f!reader x pro hero!shoto ; reader was a 1-A student tags: mutual pining, heavy make-out, thinly veiled sugar daddy shoto, reader does not go pro, touya might be a dick but he's a hero now, shoto is bad at feelings wordcount: 5.6k a/n: i do not fucking know what came over me, enjoy your food my little todorokinas. yes the title is what you think it is. no i will not elaborate.

You never did go pro.

Truthfully, you thought there would be more pushback when, in your senior year, you announced your plan to pursue a degree in early childhood education with a focus on non-conforming quirk development. 

The War changed a lot. It changed you, your classmates, and the world. But, through it all one thing stuck with you:

What if someone helped Tenko Shimura?

How different would his life have been? How different would history have spun? 

You graduated at the top of your class and joined the faculty at Chiba Prefectural Preparatory School for Quirk Specialties two years ago. 

Chiba Prep was opened eight years ago in response to a societal cry for more infrastructure around what was dubbed "non-conforming quirks": a nice way to say quirks that can injure, maim, or kill. Maybe even all three on a bad day. Some parents still see their child being labeled as a non-conforming quirk user in the national database as akin to social suicide. 

You see it differently.

Your quirk allows you to manipulate emotions — anger, sadness, betrayal, love, hatred. If you can feel it, you can sink it into another's psyche deep enough to drive them to act. You can even imbue things with feelings. For example, a cup of warm milk can transform into more than just a simple comfort, now it can hold the feeling of home and safety, or even exhaustion strong enough to put even the biggest foe to rest. 

You could easily use your quirk with nefarious intent. 

You could steep hatred in someone's bone so deep it drives them to harm themselves. You could sew fury so solid into someone's mind it drives them to violence. 

Just a touch and you can control others with something so intrinsically personal it only exists within themselves: their feelings.

What makes you any different from little Asuke, a shy little girl with a quirk that allows her to see people's greatest fears, and then manifest and control them? You're convinced she can use this for good, if only with practice. In your mind, her future is bright and glimmering. Perhaps she will become a therapist, focusing on exposure therapy? Or, maybe the most prolific horror novelist in their time? 

Or, bright and sunny Tao — a transplant whose parents sought out Chiba Prep's specialized education — whose heteromorphic quirk makes his bodily fluids, namely saliva, eat through nearly anything but his own biologics. A sneeze is quickly the most dangerous thing in the world for the cheery, lizard-bodied class clown. 

He's just a boy given a quirk that needs more care. 

He isn't a villain-in-training. 

None of them are.

It's important to teach them that young — and as their teacher for Year 3 of their elementary schooling, you aim to hammer that in as much as possible. They deserve to feel normal. To feel loved and supported. They aren't scary, they're children. 

So, you take it upon yourself to insist on pushing for privileges like field trips. There aren't many public spaces that welcome the classes of Chiba Prep with open arms. Over the years, there have been plenty of incidents. But, a day trip into the city to visit Tokyo's Hall of Heroes is green-lit with bubbling excitement from both faculty, the children, and their parents. 

You usually keep your history as a graduated member of Class 1-A quiet. 

After all, you never did go pro.

And even still, Shoto Todoroki never stopped thinking about you.

He remembers that weekend everyone moved back in for their last year before graduation. He remembers you smiling at him, and helping him drag up a duffel of luggage from the common room to his dorm. You made a joke about how you're sure he got taller over the summer, and how his hair is longer now. You said you liked it. 

It was the beginning of the end, then.

His crush was a silent, smothering thing. It made it hard to think. Shoto had enough on his plate thanks to Touya's acceptance into the Villain Rehabilitation Program and his father's insistence on staving off retirement. Not to mention his parent's divorce — no matter how amicable, it was still a separation. Add on training, tests, studying, finals, and j-term classes... And a desperate, writhing, burning crush on the nicest girl in class? 

Touya's elbow digs into Shoto's side.

It drags him back to reality — to the stifled quiet of the historical Hall of Heroes. 

Suddenly, the doors to the wing squeak open, and a tour guide ushers in the elementary school class. The buzzing excitement and wonder are visible on each of their faces as the attendant — one of the HoH's lead tour guides — excitedly explains the newest, in-progress addition to the Hall:

Endeavor's wing. 

There's a whisper of awe that ripples through the children as their teacher and co-teacher follow, and as the class moves through the large, open space. They're staring up eagerly at the gilded statue in the center of the room. It's larger than life and intimidating. Years ago, Shoto might have had to fight the odd tremble in his knees at the reminder it brings: to be small in his father's shadow again. But, things are different now. 

Very different.

Touya scoffs. "I thought this wing wasn't open to the public yet."

"They're just children," Shoto hums, turning his back on the gaggle across the way to inspect the large mural winding along the back end of the installation, "I'm sure it's—"

"Oh, ho, no way!"

Shoto quirks his brow at his brother's outburst. His elbow digs into Shoto's ribs again. 

"Ain't that the pretty girl you never got the balls to ask out your senior year?" comes the rasped drawl of his older brother's voice. Touya is clearly amused, his white hair hanging in his eyes as he leans forward to squint, "She is cute, Sho'—"

"Shut up," Shoto grits, turning his head over his shoulder; he tries to bite back the flurry of nerves that ignite in his gut, "Stop talking."

It is you.

You look... good. 

Happy. 

You're crouched by a small, timid girl in the back of the crowd. Your hand is in hers, and you're pointing upwards at the large paneled screens replaying Endeavor's most historic fights. You're explaining something to her, your knees bent as you squat. You look... the same. As if in the six years since they graduated, you sat still in time. 

For a second, it's like he's seventeen again.

It's his senior year, and he's stuck at the corner of the gym's edge with a half-empty glass of punch in his hand. The lights are low, and there's slow music playing. His tie feels too tight. Bakugo keeps telling him to 'ask her to dance already', and Kirishima is considering bashing his head through the wall. Even Midorya is trying to persuade Shoto. 

"It's prom, man! C'mon, this could be your last chance—"

Touya is about to be a real pain in the ass — his favorite pastime — and make some comment about your ass, but when he turns to lob the one-liner at his baby brother, Shoto's gone.

Shoto is on the move.

The crescendo of gasps draws your attention first.

Then, the cry of "WOAH, IT'S SHOTO!" leaves you dumbfounded. The rippling murmur of excitement bleeds into the children as their eyes — and the eyes of the tour guide — widen at the sight of the approaching Pro Hero. 

Shoto Todoroki.

He looks... good. 

Really good.

He's a bit older, and a bit more filled out than when you were both teenagers. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders — it's a distant echo of his father's physique, though Shoto is so much more elegant and much... prettier. He's always been.

For a second, you're seventeen again.

It's your senior year, and you're sprawled across Momo Yaoyorozu's bed.

They had finally wrangled out of you who your crush was: something they hadn't been able to do in all their years as classmates.

There's a sticky, Miss Midnight-themed face mask clinging to your expression as you try to flip through the large magazine in your hands as nonchalantly as possible. Mina's voice, as she paints Ochaco's nails a bright pink on the floor, is sweet and saccharine as she looks up at you.

"I think you and Shoto would be, like, the cutest couple ever." 

You're still crouched when the tour guide nervously — like she was caught doing something naughty — introduces The Pro Hero Shoto to the already-aware crowd of elementary school students and their teachers. It's like igniting a match; the uproar of excitement leaves you laughing as three of your boys push forward to bombard him with questions about his quirk. 

Asuke is smiling shyly, now. That's a small win. She's intrigued by the appearance of a real hero, not the "scary statues" — and her big, fat tears stopped rolling the moment you laid a gentle hand on her to quell her anxiety over the new environment with a push of comfort through your quirk. She unhooks her pinkie finger from yours as you guide her towards your co-teacher. 

"Boys," you call with a crisp air of authority as you stand and lead Asuke toward the bulk of the field trip group, "What have we learned about personal space?"

"It's fine, really, Insight," comes Shoto's voice; as warm and placid as you remember. 

"Insight?" mutters your co-teacher at the presumed hero-name; a look of confusion plasters itself on her face, and her big, feline ears perk up. She leans in to whisper in a way that borders on conspiratory, "Do you two know one another?"

"Old classmates," you confirm, not daring to get into the finer details.

Shoto's attention is entirely rooted in the way you manage the kids. There's something beautiful about the ease with which you handle the bouquet of students; you quell the excitement into a manageable decibel like it's as easy as breathing. 

"Shoto," you start as you gesture to him, "Has a very special quirk — Toyamai, he has ice like you. And, fire like Tojiro. He can regulate his temperature. Can anyone tell me what that means?"

There's a wave of hands shooting up, a few me, me, me's rise from the gaggle. 

You're using him as a teaching moment.

Shoto's smile is soft.

You nod at Ogomi, excitedly nodding as the reserved child speaks up. Normally, he hates public speaking. But, recently, he's started working with the speech pathologist during lunch. The boy bounces a little as he answers. "He doesn't g-get too hot, or too c-cold."

"Exactly! Isn't that cool?" you grin at the lazy attempt at a pun, "This is why it's important to learn about our quirks as much as we can!"

Touya thinks this whole thing is just too cute. 

You're different than he remembers — but, granted, things were sorta different last time he saw you. He was a little too busy tryna kill his old man and lil' Shoto. He's different now, too. A changed man! A real licensed hero. Support items and all. 

He hangs back. 

He... I mean, he is a jack-ass but he isn't gonna ruin this for Shoto. 

...It's kinda cute.

Just about as cute as Fuyumi said it was. 

Apparently, Shoto had opened up to her and Natsuo about his feelings after graduation — about how he regretted not doing anything about it. Fuyumi then told their mum, who then off-handedly mentioned it to Touya... and well Touya dug in because, duh, he is a whore for good gossip. He might be the family's black sheep, but Shoto is the glue that binds. 

And he deserves to be happy.

Your co-teacher is ushering the kids to the next installation — a viewing of All Might's Legacy, a new documentary following the retired pro's teaching career. It will be a good wind down for them, in comfy seats and the dark. It's hardly the sort of content an elementary school student would find riveting, but it is All Might. And they love him.

You hang back. 

Shoto's heart is hammering in his chest.

"Hey."

"Hi," you greet back, closing the door to the theater and stepping forward as you weave your arms around you, "Long time no see."

"Yea," Shoto breathes, his hands in his pockets as he meets you halfway across the museum's marble floors, "I... I see you're teaching."

His eyes are as pretty as they were back then. Slate grey and piercing turquoise. "I'm in my second year," you confirm softly, fiddling with the material of your sweater, "Congrats to your old man."

You gesture up at the statue, then wave around to the rest of the installation.

Shoto inhales, then nods; he's staring at your face, blissfully realizing you're just the way you were all those years ago. Kind. "I'll pass it along."

"How's he handling it?" you ask, your eyes raking across his expression and trying not to stick to the sharp slope of his jaw, or the bob of his Adam's apple, "Retirement, I mean."

"He's happy, I think. Touya and I are working together and... things are...  good."

Last month, Endeavor finally retired. He cited his age, and his dedication to passing his legacy to his two sons: Shoto and Touya. Shoto has planted himself firmly within the Top Ten in the last year or so, and shockingly, Touya isn't far behind. People love an underdog's redemption story, you suppose. 

And the underdog in question can read a room. 

This is getting a little too sexually tense for even him.

"Heeeeey, girl," he rasps out, staggering backward with a thumb over his shoulder, "Nice t' see ya. I'll let you two catch up, yea? I'm gonna go pop my head into the theater, see how the kids are handling the snooze fest on screen—"

You jump.

How long has he even been there?

"Hi, D— Touya," you strain, wincing a little; the rehab'd villain doesn't seem to mind.

"Hi, teach'. That cool with you?" he asks, wobbling his thumb and quirking a pierced eyebrow; it's comical, like he's trying to disarm you with humor, "Don't want you thinkin' I'm corrupting your youths—"

"It's fine," you breathe, ignoring the sting of age-old mistrust. You know better. Shoto wouldn't be here, with him, if Touya Todoroki hadn't changed. Endeavor wouldn't be entrusting his legacy to the ex-League of Villain member if he didn't believe in his capacity for good, "Just don't be disruptive."

Casting judgment on someone whose life was nearly destroyed by his own non-conforming quirk would go against everything you taught the kids anyway.

"Touya's whole thing is being disruptive," Shoto grits as his oldest brother slips silently through the doors, "I apologize for him—"

"No," you wave him off, laughing a little, "Don't. It's... nice to see you two together."

Shoto's expression is soft as he wanders a little closer. "It took time — and a lot of therapy — but we've all managed to come out the other side."

"That's great to hear, Shoto," you breathe, your eyes flitting across his face, "I'm really happy for you."

There's a long silence, then — and you can't help but ignore the roil of butterflies in your stomach. The eye contact is heavy with some unspoken thing, and both of your tongues are weighted by secrets-never-turned-confessions. 

It's like finally this dance you've been doing around one another for years breaks — and the two of you throw caution to the wind at the exact same moment. 

"Would you like to—"

"Are you free—"

Hesitant, slow grins bloom on both your faces.

"Dinner?" is all he manages after a sweet moment of soaking up your soft smile, "If you're available...?"

You make yourself available.

Yaoyorozu almost dies when you call her that night — winded from tearing through your entire wardrobe. You explained you had nothing to wear a-and you needed something nice, and you only have an hour to get ready, because Todoroki — yes, stop screaming, Todoroki — is picking you up at 8pm.

Little bro is nervous. Touya can tell. 

From his spot on the sofa, the white-haired ex-degenerate scoffs. Natsuo is digging around for some cufflinks in Shoto's dresser.

"Seriously, Sho'? A suit?" 

"It's a nice restaurant," his brother says tightly, adjusting the collar of the black button-down, "I booked the upstairs dining room for privacy." 

"Who the hell told you t' do that?" Touya quirks a skeptical brow.

"Father was the one who suggested it."

"...That old dog." 

Natsuo rolls his eyes at the exchange before throwing his hands as he emerges from the closet. "Do you have any links that aren't emblazoned with U.A. High School's crest?"

The ones in Natsuo's hands have his graduation year on them.

Shoto winces.

"Want me to ask dear ol' dog of a dad?" Touya snarks from the corner, his posture becoming less and less upright as he scrolls on his phone.

"Already did," comes the soft voice of Fuyumi; she's smiling, padding into Shoto's room with a velvet box, "He offered up his nicest pair. He also says not to screw it up with Insight. He likes her."

Of course, he likes her. You worked under Endeavor for a brief work-study period during your third year. Shoto remembers hearing grumbled praise over dinner one night about your talent for de-escalation.

"You told him who I was seeing?" Shoto asks incredulously, taking the box and working the cufflinks on. He's starting to feel exasperated.

Fuyumi nods, popping down beside Touya. 

"He asked. I'm not gonna lie to him."

"Did y' tell ma?" Touya rasps, peeking up over his phone to inspect Shoto's outfit. Not half bad, honestly. He looks good in all black. A man after his own heart, "M'sure she's gonna be real excited—"

"Yes," Shoto grumbles, "I called her earlier—"

"Chiba Prep is a really good school, y'know," Natsuo buts in as he tries to find a tie that matches Shoto's outfit. Ultimately, though, the middle brother decides against it and tosses the options over his shoulder, "They're, like, on the leading edge for quirk therapies."

"Hey, nerd? Quiet down. The big kids are gossiping," Touya shirks, turning back to Shoto, "What did mum say?" 

"She wants me to call her after—"

"One, you're gonna call mum the morning after," Touya raises a finger, "Because if you don't get laid, I'll be so fuckin' disap—"

Fuyumi slaps Touya's chest. He lets out a pained yelp at the solid smack.

"Uh, ow," he rubs his sternum. "An' two, take a deep breath. You look like you're gonna shit yourself. Those are my pants and they're expensive."

Shoto lets out a long breath. 

Fuyumi's smile is sweet like honey. "Aw, Sho'! It's gonna go great. You two have known each other for such a long time, and catching up is going to be amazing. Just be yourself! Confident and kind—"

"—Hold the door open for her, and pull her chair out," Natsuo adds as he adjusts Shoto's collar for him, "Car door, too—"

It's Touya's turn. He's dead serious. "—And do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night. I swear to god."

Easier said than done.

You never did go pro.

Those years of hardened battle instincts have lost their edge. You try to remind yourself this is just Shoto, not The Shoto — but you're a little lost in the whole celebrity of it all when he picks you up in a very nice, sporty little car with ENDVRplates. 

You answer the door and he forgets how to breathe.

He has flowers for you. They're blue and blooming and beautiful. 

Fuyumi's contribution. 

You settled then you were going to kiss him at the end of the night.

The restaurant is... nice. Really nice. The sort of nice you could never aspire to experience on your teacher's salary. Even the valet is a concept that has your head spinning. But, Shoto handles it all with cool ease. The entire time, his hand is settled on your lower back. 

It feels like you've been lit on fire.

You're glad Momo was able to create a dress fitting for the occasion. It's sleek and black. Comfortable, too. Not much can be said for your heels on that front, but it's fine. 

Somehow, Shoto managed to book the entire upper floor of this place in all its glimmering glory — it's just the two of you alone in a sea of tables. 

The waiter is pouring you a glass of the chef's suggested pairing of sake.

You thank him, smile, and take a sip as Shoto unbuttons his suit jacket and watches you. 

For a second, you're seventeen again.

Sero and Kirishima were always in cahoots when it came to parties back then — somehow, between the two of them, they always managed to smuggle enough booze onto campus to obliterate any semblance of promised sobriety from even the most stoic members of 1-A. 

You remember one night, after a lot of hounding, you finally gave in and joined a few of your classmates on the back lawn for a few drinks. 

A few beers turned into a cup or two of wine, and then another big gulp of whatever deranged jungle juice concoction Kaminiari managed to cook up. It tasted terrible, but you were too drunk to really care. Shoto was no better. He was nursing his fourth drink of the night — a rarity he was even drinking at all — and seemed completely fine with the way your arms brushed as the two of you sat close in the grass. 

He was always so nervous around you. Now, he just seemed... happy. 

"I can't believe there is only one week left until graduation."

Graduation day was the last time you saw him. 

Until this morning, that is. 

You smile into your drink. 

"What?" you ask when his eyes never leave your face.

His fingers twitch towards his own glass. Shoto blinks, then rolls his jaw. He was caught staring. He clears his throat, looking a bit shy. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" you press playfully, cocking your head to the side.

"You..." he starts, then bawks. You're stunning, and it's making it hard to even think straight. He thought these feelings might have mellowed out over the years but seeing you again has just reignited everything. He feels like a hormonal teenager again, "You look beautiful."

Your expression falters into something lovesick. You chew your lip. "You're not so bad yourself, Todoroki."

He manages a half-smile. "Touya had me worried the suit was a bit much."

The idea of Touya offering him advice on his outfit strikes a chord in your heart. It makes you smile even bigger than before. "Well, you can tell Touya that I like it. A lot."

You rake your eyes up and down him. On purpose.

He notices.

Shoto's face feels hot. 

He tries to shake the bone-deep want that has swept his entire body up in its grip, but it's difficult when every single word out of your mouth reminds him just how in love he was with you back in school. You explain, excitedly, why you chose to teach at Chiba Prefectural Prep and catch him up on where you've been living since graduating. He's pleased to learn you're still in the area, living in the city, and decidedly in love with the commute to the school. 

Shoto's always been a good listener — but you can see how much he's changed when he begins to speak about his career. He seems so much more sure of himself than he was all those years ago. It wasn't that he was... unsure... but, no. He was shy. Quiet.

Now, less so. 

It's adorable. 

Dinner comes and goes with conversation over sushi that is far too good for you to even process. It's easy talking to him. It was easy talking to Shoto back, then, too but... Things are different. You're both different. Not in a bad way, but in a way that feels like coming home. 

While you both wait outside for the valet, Shoto shrugs his jacket off and puts it over your shoulders without a single word. Suddenly, you're cradled in a warmth that's very Shoto — his cologne clings to the collar and you bury yourself a little deeper into it. 

Shyly, you step closer and steal his hand. It's calloused and warm. He laced his fingers with yours as if practiced. You bite back a grin. You give his hand a little squeeze when you spot the car coming around the corner.

His silence is calming — and he squeezes your hand back. When you look up at him, you realize he's already looking at you. 

His face is close. It's so... intimate. Very. Nearly better than a kiss. 

But, you've wanted to kiss Shoto Todoroki since you were seventeen. 

The valet driver interrupts the moment with a respectful call of Shoto's name and offers the keys with a shake of the hand. With a little bit of hesitancy, Shoto remembers the thing Natsuo said — the car door, too — and moves around the passenger side to open the door for you. 

It's sweet.

Really sweet. 

The car ride back to your apartment is punctuated with easy conversation — you ask him about Bakugo and Midorya, and you're pleased to hear they're both doing well. He asks about Momo, and if you still keep in touch with Mina and Ochaco. He smiles to himself when you admit you did call Momo for help with an outfit. 

"She did a beautiful job," Shoto breathes, a palm moving from the gear shift to brush over the dress' fabric on your thigh.

His hand settles there. 

Your stomach does a flip. 

You chew your lip, swallow down a sudden burst of nerves, and let your hand rest over his. You squeeze it. Shoto tries to focus on the road. His gaze drifts for a moment at a red light, his heterochromatic eyes dancing across your figure. 

Keep it together. 

He isn't seventeen.

He's twenty-five. He's a Professional Hero. One of the Top Ten in all of Japan. He's more than capable of keeping it together in the face of physical touch from the woman he's dreamed about for years. 

...Right?

Green light.

His hand is still on your thigh when he pulls up to your apartment. 

The touch is relinquished in favor of putting the sports car in park. 

It makes your chest ache.

Shoto swallows thickly.

Do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night.

He'll never forgive himself. But, admittedly, he's bad at this. He's not good at reading body language, or even knowing himself enough to realize he looks mildly terrified as you blink up at him in the passenger's seat. His heart is hammering a mile a minute.

What if you don't want to kiss him?

When would he even kiss you? Now? Or at the door?

Why does he feel like he's going to die?

"This was really... Shoto, are you okay?" you ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt; you pause, your brows knitting tightly. 

"What?" he asks, blinking back to the present moment. The look of fear disappears, "Sorry. Yes. I'm fine."

You're working his jacket off your shoulders, gently leaning to fold it neatly in your lap. Your voice dips low, into something playful. "You didn't look fine..."

"I—" Shoto clamps his mouth shut as he leans an elbow on the center console, "Sorry. I suppose I'm just nervous."

"Nervous?" you grin, a little giggle punctuating your words as you wriggle in the red, leather seat, "Why?"

Your expression makes his expression crack. He ducks his head as he huffs out a laugh. You continue to egg him on via expression alone. "I... Stop it."

"Stop what?" you push some more, your back pressed to the door as you face him in the car, "You're the one being weird—"

"I'm not being weird—"

"Then what's wrong, Shoto?" you tease in a sing-song voice.

"I'm nervous because I want to kiss you."

His words are punctuated by a slow look that takes in every inch of your face. Butterfly wings kiss your stomach walls. And your knees. You feel a little tremble in your chest. 

It feels like someone has sucker punched you square in the sternum. Shoto's no better. He isn't entirely sure what the expression on your face means. Is that... good? Are you happy?

Your voice is a little quieter now. You duck your head and fiddle with his suit jacket as you lean back against the seat, a little closer now. 

"You don't need to be."

Shoto's breath catches at that.

So, he makes his move.

His hand comes first — his calloused palm settles nicely against your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as his pointer finger brushes the underside of your jaw. Shoto is slow. Methodical. It's like he's trying to ground himself in the moment. 

Truth be told, he thinks he might be blacking out.

Your eyes flit up his wrist — a dark leather band around his wrist with an expensive watch face, a dark dress shirt with glimmering cufflinks, strong arms and a broad chest, and you can see the dip of his collarbone where the top two buttons of his shirt remain undone. 

He looks so damn handsome with his sharp jaw, pretty eyes, and his trademark white and crimson hair. Even his scar is beautiful. 

The touch pulls you in like he's got his own personal orbit.  

Your elbows are braced along the center console, your eyes flicking across his face as his fingers continue to brush along the soft expanse of your cheek. You wring your fingers together. 

Then, his eyes stick to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers, his breath fanning across your face. 

You never did go pro.

But, Shoto did. 

It shows. 

Because, at this moment, all you can do is nod feebly before you're swept into the sort of kiss people go to war for. It's the sort of kiss that sticks to your ribs, that feels like warm, fresh food. It's the sort of kiss that would drive you to the brink, that would make you nod and agree sure, let's get married and have three kids, let's name one after your father, and paint the house blue like your mother's favorite flower—

His mouth is eager, but not in an overbearing way. It's gentle. Slow. As if he needs to remind himself this is real and not some midnight fiction that leaves him aching and alone. Shoto reminds himself to be tepid, pliable, and easy, which is easier said than done when somewhere deep inside of him there's a seventeen-year-old screaming in victory. 

It's better than anything he could have ever imagined. 

And then you whimper. 

It's a sound tied between bliss and relief and it's muttered against his mouth as you lean in and let your fingers brush the fabric of his dress shirt. The tips of your fingers brush his abdomen and he flexes, the feeling foreign and warm. It warrants his other hand to drift to your face and you break for a breath; he doesn't care that there's lipstick smeared across his mouth. He's kissing you again — this time a little bit more feverish, a little bit more aching. 

You melt against him, this time your hands trembling to grip his wrists.

He needs to slow down.

He is not having sex with you in his father's car.

That's shameless.

He needs to slow down.

He has to, or he'll lose himself in this and he refuses to fuck this up. 

Shoto's breath is ragged when he finally peels himself away, his lip parted and eyes half-lidded. His grip on your face is still so soft, so gentle. It's very him. 

You're glad you didn't do this when you were seventeen.

It would have permanently altered your brain chemistry, you're sure of it. How could you ever kiss someone else again after that? 

He's rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You swallow, and try to level out your breathing. It's hard when he's still so close, when he's so... perfect. 

"I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against your cheek, "Since our last year at Yuei."

A well-kissed smile breaks across your face. You reel back, your nose wrinkling as you shake your head in disbelief. Shoto is smiling. A real smile. The sort that's so rare you can count on one hand the amount of times you've ever seen it in person. 

"Are you serious?"

"Very," he says, chastely pressing another to your other cheek as he leans back.

"Me too," you admit shyly, "Can we... do it again sometime?"

Shoto's eyes widen incrementally. Then, his smile eases back onto his face. 

"Are you free this weekend?"

"I can be," you reply easily with a honeyed look, "And I will be. For you."

"I get off patrol on Saturday around seven," he explains before asking timidly, "We could... do dinner again?"

"Works for me," you breathe as you move for the handle of the car door, "After all, I never went Pro. Weekends are free."

Shoto scoffs. 

Then, as you open the door and swing a leg out:

"Oh, and tell Touya I thought the suit sexy."

Shoto's laugh is dry. You leave his jacket on the seat and scurry into your apartment with a lovesick wave. He swears he sees the silhouette of a familiar ponytail greet you at the door, but he doesn't dwell on it. He waits until you're inside and the lights to the front door are shut off.

Then it hits him. He has another date with you this weekend. 

Not so seventeen anymore, Shoto Todoroki. 

[baby-tini]

Bully Dabi🥵 he messes with you your whole life ever since you moved in the neighborhood. He makes sure you don't have any meaningful connections with friends from school so no one bothers you. It wasn't till University that it got kicked up a notch. He wasn't shoving into you or saying mean things anymore it was more sexual now. He grabs you around the corner of a classroom and makes you grind on him. While doing that he says the nastiest things in your ear. 'You always wanted this' 'wanted to ruin you for so long' 'wait till you see my cock you'll drool over it like the little cock slut you are' 'my cock slut' 'can't wait to see this tummy buldge from my cock'

TW- NONCON, victim blaming, sexual assault, bullying, verbal and physical abuse You had moved into the neighborhood when you were about eight years old, your dad had gotten a new job that payed way better then his old one. Being an only child, you never really had people to play with so, when your dad told you that there was a family across the street with kids your age, you were ecstatic. The kids were really nice to you, well, except the oldest, Touya or as all his friends called him, Dabi. He was always so mean to you. Tripping you, pulling your hair, spilling juice on your pretty clothes, you never liked Touya, he never gave you a reason too. So, you did your best to avoid him, you only came over to play with Fuyumi anyway, so, you would just be in her room playing dolls and having fun, until you had to go home. Now the bullying wasn't too bad as kids, it was more like an inconvenience for you. But in high school? That's when it started to get worse, the tripping turned into Dabi- as he now forced you to call him- pushing you into lockers and laughing when he sees the bruises on your shoulders and thighs. The hair pulling turned into him yanking you up by your hair as he called you mean names. You wanted to tell someone, you truly did but all the girls loved Dabi, that was apparent when he had a new one hanging off him everyday. Plus you didn't want your parents to move you to a different school, you had a lot of friends here. You especially didn't want to tell Fuyumi, knowing she'd tell everyone, it would be in good faith coming from her but, she really couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

Dabi being older then you by a couple years means he graduated and went to college first, giving you two years of peace, you didn't have to look over your shoulder or wear jackets all the time in order to cover the bruises he inflicted. You could have fun and joke around with friends without him staring you down from across the hall. It was the best two years of school you've had in your life, plus, Dabi moved into a dorm on campus with his friends Keigo and Tomura. So, you rarely saw Dabi around the neighborhood, except when he came home occasionally on weekends. But even then, you'd rather five- rarely seven- days of peace then none at all. It also meant you could talk to guys without Dabi threatening them or in most cases, beating them black and blue. It's the worst in college though, the years of peace in high school gone all too quickly as you start uni. Although, you don't have any classes with Dabi, so you rarely see him. After classes is a different story though, he's trailing after you, holding you hostage in empty classroom and calling you mean names as his bullying gets bolder.. more.. sexual. He's pinning you against the wall now, leaving hickeys and bruises on your neck, shoving his tongue in your mouth and probably the worst is when he pushes you on top of the desk to spread your legs and hump your cunt over your clothes. Then there was the time that Dabi had dragged you you into an empty classroom, calling you a slut because your skirt was too short for his liking as he laid you on the empty teacher desk and proceeded to pull your skirt up and take his cock out. He had you lay there as he rubbed the head of his dick over your clit, through your panties, making you beg for him to play with your pussy. "Feels good, doesn't it slut?" Forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist, he grinds into your cunt. Slapping your hands away when you try to hide your face and laughing when you start to cry. Pumping his cock a couple times, he runs it over your panties, making sure his tip catches your clit. Trying to look away from him doesn't work 'cause he'll just pull your upper body off the desk and make you watch him fuck your clit, his slit leaking beads of pre-cum, wetting the sensitive nub, his piercing catching on it so nicely. He'll switch from that, to pulling your underwear to the side so that he can slap at the little bundle of nerves and rolling it with his pointer and thumb.

"I don't know why you're covering your face, you were asking for it, wearing all the slutty clothes that you do." Dabi says the meanest things when he has you like this, he's never been soft while he touches you. Always bending you over the railing in the stairwell so that he can lift your skirt to rub your pussy with two fingers then he'll pull your thong tightly against your pussy, so that your lips peak out and he can grind against you. Or when you're leaving the building he'll pull you with him behind the school so that he can give 'daily hole checks,' as he calls them. He says he does them to make sure you're not whoring yourself out, seeing how tight you are by making you suck on his fingers so he can push them inside you. "Bend over bitch, I won't ask again, gotta make sure this pussy is just how I left it." If you're too slow doing as he asks, he'll push against the wall and pulling your ass towards him. From there, he'll pull your panties down, letting them drop to your ankles as he spreads your pussy open and literally stares at your pussy for minutes, pulling lips apart and pushing tip of his thumb inside, spitting on your clit and using his palm to spread it all over your cunt, getting spit on your thighs as he does so. If he deems that your pussy isn't how he left, whether his cum is no longer in you or you feel "looser" then he'll punish you. He makes you hold up your skirt from behind with your face squished against the dirty brick wall as he slaps your ass, hitting you so hard your eyes burn from the salty tears running down your cheeks. Telling you mean things as he carries out his brutal assault on your ass. "Don't start crying now bitch, if you weren't such a slut, I wouldn't have to hit you." or, "Did you really wipe my cum out of you? You ungrateful little whore." and, "Move away from me again and see what happens, I'll hit a lot fucking harder, try me." and of course, "You really think anyone'll believe you? Those bitches you hang out with would kill to be in your position, would beg to have my cock stretching them so full it bulges from their fucking stomach.

[rizsu]

ꪆ୧ ── ROMANTIC LIFE ┊ INSIDER'S VIEW ﹑ JJK. ⤿ starring: megumi fushiguro as main male lead.

꒰ heart to him ﹢ a sneak peek into what's probably the very beginning of your relationship with megumi — how it started, to be exact. just two highschool students who found themselves a little attracted to each other.

𖧷 · love, ‘su: megumi = 2nd year student, you = 3rd year. both start as strangers into friends into (potential) lovers. split into two ‘chapters’ to break it up.

꒰১ CHAPTER ONE ﹕ it all started when…

“...pretty.”

“damn, for real?! i’ve been trying to work on my manliness. thanks, bro.”

megumi’s immediately snapped out of his trance. he zoned out of the conversation minutes ago, preferring to focus on the encounter he had with a stranger earlier.

being immersed in his head, he had no idea he’d begun to get vocal. from sighs that reek of longing to random compliments as seen before. the three friends that circled around his desk didn’t mind his absence in the conversation — rather, they played into it. whenever he said something entirely unrelated, they’d respond as if they’re the ones he’s daydreaming about.

somehow, megumi failed to notice until itadori responded to him.

“no.” is what megumi replied. with one eyebrow raised, he quickly looked up and down itadori’s frame.

“but you called itadori pretty, dude!”

“can it.” his defences rose. “i wasn’t talking about him.”

a collective “oh?” came from everyone — even the students who weren’t a part of the group’s conversation. the boys leaned in closer, eyes set on megumi.

“is this perhaps fushiguro’s first love scenario?!” tichi gasped, already trying to piece together what an interaction between megumi and a love interest would look like.

“ah.” itadori folds his arms across his chest, nodding with eyes closed. “so i’m not ugly!”

the other friend kept quiet, waiting for megumi to reveal more information.

as for the main character in the moment, megumi’s ears flushed a particular shade of red — one that usually indicates embarrassment. a heat overtook his body; being the centre of attention for his group and the long-eared classmates certainly wasn’t the most ideal situation for him.

but megumi must keep his cool. he has an image to maintain — the image of “that one guy who’s always unimpressed.”

reaching a hand to scratch the sides of his neck, he gave a sigh before satisfying everyone’s curiosity.

“it’s a girl…”

“gender reveal!”

“anyway, she’s a third year.”

silence unfolds. megumi doesn’t continue after that, and the crowd doesn’t give their input — all except for a fellow classmate who’s definitely going to put the two together. as someone who has connections with the third-year students, he’s going to be megumi’s fairy godmother.

“well, well, well.”

heads turn to the voice — even megumi’s eyes met the owner’s.

“what’s her name? if you say it, i can make connections. the third years are graduating in a few months — time is not on your side,” tacho says, walking towards megumi with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

quite a dramatic entrance for someone who’s on cleaning duties after class.

“dude, do you think you’re in a show?” the unfortunate twin brother of tacho, tichi, sighs.

ignoring his brother, tacho leans down to megumi, maintaining eye contact with the boy. not just any eye contact though, the eye contact that screams business! boss to employee eye contact!

“i’m not telling.” megumi refused.

“boohoo, you’re lame.” tacho fakes a cry.

“but,” megumi continues, regaining his position as the centre of attention. “if i manage to talk to her and don’t get her number… i’ll tell you.”

“deal?” tacho’s ears perked up. he liked what he heard.

“deal.”

“pinky promise?”

“what are we, eight?” megumi frowned almost immediately.

there’s finally something for the second-year students of class 2B to look forward to. the love story progression between megumi fushiguro and the mysterious third-year student.

P.O.V SWITCH ⟡ THIRD-YEAR STUDENT, Y/N.

“psst, y/n!” a crumpled page hits the back of your head.

“what?!” you whisper-yelled, turning around to face the culprit.

“what’s the answer for question forty-five? is it b or d?” the culprit asked with urgency and desperation. the first multiple-choice mock exam of the week is certainly handing his ass back to him.

your expression flatlined — you should’ve known it wasn’t anything important.

“don’t you have your phone on you?! just cheat.” not-so-good advice was exchanged through whispering.

“that’s too much work!”

“then choose b. ‘b’ as in bat. if you get it wrong, blame mai.”

the perfect third-year class experience: getting an answer from a friend who got it from a friend who got it from a— you get the point. mock exams aren’t always taken seriously, it might as well be a regular class.

although there wasn’t a need to cheat for the answers yourself, you were too lazy to debate whether the answer was this or that based on the previous mock exam. call that the curse of repeated questions.

with thirty-five minutes left on the clock, you circled the final answer before closing the booklet. there’s nothing more relaxing than taking a nap after finishing an exam. it’s not like you can leave anyway.

“if you’re finished, leave the classroom. don’t be noisy in the halls or you're getting failed.

…apparently you can now.

you wasted no time in getting out. leaving a friend in need hurts you, but he can consider it revenge for throwing a paper ball at your head.

stretching your limbs, you snuck up behind mai, lightly kicking behind her knees to surprise her.

“fuck— y/n!”

“hey, shhhhh. we’re in the halls~” you hushed her, reminding her of the warning the class received beforehand.

mai showed no sign of regret. she’s heard that warning ever since elementary school days — it’s nothing more than empty words.

“you believe that shit?” she asked, disappointment lacing her tone.

“do i look stupid in your eyes?” you asked, saddened at how your friend viewed you.

mai nodded, ignoring your offended reaction. tapping twice on her phone screen, she hummed and slid it back into her skirt’s pocket.

“my ex messaged.”

“i thought you blocked—”

“anyway, let’s go get an early lunch before the younger ones.”

mai cut you off from finishing your sentence. she completely forgot that she told you a lie.

-> 11:15 A.M ◟ under the oak tree.

two ladies enjoying the gentle breeze as leaves dance along the wind’s track. they were having a meal, appreciating the shade they got from the tree along with the silence that came from being dismissed during class time.

the two totally weren’t ignoring the complaints from the sole person who’s been going nonstop since he came out of the classroom. he’s not appreciating the wrong answers given to him from a friend who got it from a friend (×2).

“—she said it was c. can you believe that?! C?!”

“wait.” you sat up straight. “who said that?”

“the fucking teacher! were you even listening to me?!”

“no, not really…” you’re guilty as charged.

“teru, swear upon your life that she said the answer’s c.” mai spoke with authority.

“i swear, dude.”

the senior student life: friends saying “fuck” in a exhausted way together. the reaction of when you know you completely fucked up.

another moment of silence was enjoyed. this time, it was a silence where everyone came to terms with the possibility of failing the entire exam — it’s only the beginning of many, many mock exams to come.

clicking your tongue, you decide to break the silence.

“so, mai’s ex messaged her but didn’t she say she blocked him?”

gossip time!

“plain lie.” teru expressed disappointment.

“watch that tongue. he unblocked himself.” mai defended herself.

“and i can turn water back into wine.” teru refuted.

“let’s not jump mai now,” min said. “i saw y/n talking to some guy during our first break.”

all eyes on you now. you couldn’t put a face to the guy you were talking to, but you sure as hell won’t go down without defending yourself.

“tsk, tsk. and you’re talking about me?!” mai shakes her head, happy with the party forgetting about the supposed-to-have-been-blocked ex.

“min, you were silent all the time. when you finally speak you throw shots at me?! i was just helping him!”

“and i can part the ocean into two.” teru once again expresses sarcasm.

“zip it, terushima.” you glared at him. “i don’t even know the guy, okay? cut me some slack!”

“what year is he in?” min asked, stuffing her mouth with mini marshmallows.

“dunno. probably second? he’s kinda tall with insane bed hair but i don’t remember his face…” you bit your lips trying to recall his face, but you couldn’t.

“was his hair black?” again, min questions.

“yeah.”

“no tie, sleeves rolled up to the elbow?”

“i think… maybe?”

“it’s probably megumi fushiguro.” popping the final marshmallow into her mouth, she dusted her hands off, ignoring the surprised reactions.

“okay google. who even is that? why do you know the second years’ full names…” teru questioned min, judging her for her knowledge of the students.

“well, she’s in the student council… anyway, i wanna see this fushiguro.” mai’s interest has peaked. sleeves rolled up to the elbow with no tie? he’s probably a mischievous kid.

your response is a bit later than the other two. you were repeating the name ‘megumi fushiguro’ in your head.

“his name has a nice ring to it.” finally you spoke.

“he’s a second year!” teru’s shocked at your interest in him. just a moment ago you couldn’t put a face to him. you probably can’t put a face to the name either.

“just a year younger, no biggie.” you shrugged

“how are you gonna talk to him?” mai asked, wondering if you’d walk around the second year’s floor questioning everyone on who’s megumi fushiguro.

“who said anything about that?” you shook your head. “if i see him, i see him.”

“more like if you hear his name, you hear it.”

“terushima.”

min suddenly claps, outing the fire that would’ve ignited between you and the bitchy boy.

“i’ll give him y/n’s number, but you have to send screenshots.” she offered a trade.

“i would’ve done that anyway.”

P.O.V SWITCH ⟡ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO.

-> 02:30 P.M ◟ sudden after school meeting.

the lesson megumi learnt today was to never reveal anything to his friends again. he was kept hostage all day without a single chance to catch a glimpse at the newfound crush.

whenever they could’ve, the phrase you’d hear kids singing was sung to him: “megumi and a third-year student kissing in a tree! k.i.s.s.i.n.g!”

for the first time in his life, he experienced what it’s like to hate something from the very core of his heart. it got to the point where he sneaked away from the group to leave the school grounds alone. however, even that led to no peace. he was bothered once more.

“fushiguro?” someone called out to him, lightly patting his shoulder.

he didn’t show it, but he was certainly spooked. the increased racing of his heart provides evidence of such.

“yes? oh, it’s you, min.” he turned around, keeping his poker face. can’t be caught having expressions in the school grounds.

“yup. so, that third-year girl you met during the first break, here’s her number.”

min stuck a sticky note on the pocket of his shirt, ready to walk back to where her destination is.

“wait— are you close to her?” megumi mentally cringes. he acted on impulse.

“yeah, that’s my friend. bye now.”

and she’s gone, leaving a stunned megumi in the hallway. he can’t believe it was this easy to get your number. seeing that he’s alone… maybe he can do some victory moves.

“DAMN! she beat me to it.”

“tacho, can’t you ever be quiet?!”

“was that her? she's pretty...”

“nope, that’s the friend.”

never mind. he forgot he’s got four friends who are master spies — fueled by the fact that they can’t mind their business.

turning back around to the group, he puts a hand on his hip.

“are you guys serious?”

“as serious as you are, brother.” itadori’s hand rests on his chest, providing an answer on behalf of the others.

an exasperated sigh left megumi. one day he’ll consider transferring schools.

-> 06:38 P.M ◟ courage! dominance! bravery!

megumi’s a male. a male that lacks courage, dominance, and bravery when it comes to love-related situations. once he finished his after school routine, he got comfortable in bed and is currently staring at his phone, contemplating on whether he should send you a message or not.

after a serious meeting with himself and the voice in his head, he mustered up the courage to send you a message.

megumi: hey. this is megumi fushiguro, from second year (2B).

five minutes of silence before a “ding!” is heard. he purposefully set his phone to ring after he sent the message.

y/n: oh hello i’m y/n!!

y/n: third year (3A) as u probably already know

excitement overtook megumi and he’s not pleased with it. suddenly, he’s making a typo every two words, palms sweaty, and smiling.

y/n: what’s up hru

y/n: hope min didn’t scare you

—

megumi: i’m alright, just bored. wby?

megumi: she didn’t scare me. i was a bit stunned, though.

y/n is typing…

y/n: that’s good! i’m bored too

y/n: sick of these assignments </3

y/n: drop out before it’s too late you hear me?

y/n: ok don’t but it’s an option if you’re privileged enough

—

megumi: lol i’ll think about it.

megumi: thanks for the help earlier btw.

—

y/n: anytime bro igu

y/n: oh i gtg

y/n: i forgot my mom asked me to do smth oops

y/n: we can talk later or tmr in school okay

y/n: bye ^^

—

megumi: good luck, y/n. bye.

y/n is offline.

“wow...” he re-reads the conversation, looking at the amount of messages you sent compared to his. “she’s chatty.”

his excitement calmed down a little after you went offline. actually, it was replaced with annoyance. it’s almost as if the guys put a timer and recorder on his phone. they texted the exact minute he came off your chat.

(20+) new messages from ‘cool gc name’:

> tacho: megumi don’t leave us hanging

> tichi: call me curious george

> itadori: yo that min girl been on my mind

> tacho: lemme hook u up bro

> itadori: please bro

> toeni: hop on vc

> tichi: for what

> toeni: im too lazy to type

> tichi: boy bye

> itadori: need min to give me a minute of her time so i can express how she’s been on my mind

> tacho: that shit fire

> itadori: i’ll be a poet

> tichi: ???

> toeni: who’s min?

> tacho: girl who’s friends with other girl megumi likes

> toeni: oh right her

> toeni: she scary

> itadori: u dont talk to women anyway

> tichi: already on her defence itadori’s far from saving

> tacho: truly megumi’s best friend

“what the fuck.” megumi audibly shows his shock. from the sheer amount of messages incoming, he doesn’t want to get involved.

it’s too late, though. because everyone’s online, the others can see that everyone, including megumi, read the messages. caught red-handed.

> tacho: MEGUMI

> toeni: welcome back megumi. i removed your AFK.

> tichi: easy there discord addict

> toeni: pls hop on vc

> itadori: how’d it go? u messaged her?

—

megumi: i did. she’s chatty like you guys

—

> tacho: add her here she one of us

> tichi: absolutely not

> itadori: real this is a sacred gc

> itadori: unless u get min in here too

> tichi: brother you saw her for less than five minutes

> itadori: five MINutes that blessed my life

> toeni: betting fifty dollars megumi didn’t hold the convo

—

megumi: get off my dick? she had to go offline.

—

> toeni: that's what they all say

> tichi: don't listen to him he’s mad no one’s going on vc

> toeni: true :(

> tichi: too bad :((

> toeni: die

—

megumi: i’ll probably talk to her tmr. it’s late and she isn’t back yet.

—

> tacho: DUDE NO

> tacho: how does one cockblock their own talking stage

> itadori: here goes mr. always in a relationship

—

megumi: we just started “talking.” i don’t want to come off as a creep.

—

> toeni: couldn’t be me

> toeni: i would’ve spam tf out of her phone

> tichi: how to get blocked 101

> toeni: here we go

> toeni: another lesson from The Wise And The Righteous

tichi has kicked toeni out of the groupchat.

tacho has added toeni into the groupchat.

> toeni: LEGENDS NEVER DIE!!!!

> toeni: tacho i apologise for calling you a glittered horse all this time

tacho has kicked toeni out of the groupchat.

megumi: k i’m gonna sleep.

—

> itadori: ur probably gonna dream about miss 3rd yr

—

megumi: correct.

—

> itadori: WHAT

> tichi: oh

megumi is offline.

> tacho: he’s in too deep i fear

> toeni: he just like me fr

> tacho: how the fuck did u get back in

> toeni: please refer to the capitalised message i sent before getting kicked again

꒰১ CHAPTER TWO ﹕ good morning?!

P.O.V SWITCH ⟡ THIRD-YEAR STUDENT, Y/N.

it’s not a proper morning unless your mother blinds your vision with the lightbulb of heaven, mai spamming your messages, teru asking for your mom’s breakfast, and min stealing your hoodie for herself.

truly, this is peak highschool friendship. you couldn’t have asked for more. in the classroom 7:30 A.M on the dot with the air conditioner’s cranked up to the coldest. you were copying assignment answers from another classmate and the group scrolled through the chat with megumi.

“he’s the type to text with actual grammar,” mai says, pulling her lollipop out of her mouth with a “pop” sound.

“short ass conversation.” teru does what he’s best at: judging.

“you guys actually texted this morning?” min’s surprised. “when it’s with us you just dip the convo and never text until it’s some random hour where everyone’s asleep.”

“i told you i usually dip to play games!”

“lies and more lies.” mai clicks her tongue. “anyway, teru did you read their convo?”

“barely. the awkwardness pained me.”

“here, read it.”

teru hesitantly took hold of your phone, scrolling back to the beginning of today’s chat with megumi. with a gulp of fear, he reads the messages.

y/n: im back

y/n: well the next day

y/n: still counts!

—

megumi: morning. welcome back.

—

y/n: oh right good morning!!

y/n: what r u doing

y/n: im fucking up this sandwich

—

megumi: nothing really. i’m on my bed.

—

y/n: did u eat breakfast

“did you eat breakfast?!? this cliché.”

“shut up and read quietly, teru!” embarrassment hit you at that moment.

megumi: no. i don’t particularly like breakfast.

megumi: well, not this early into the morning.

—

y/n: ur more of a brunch guy ???

—

megumi: preferably. what about you?

—

y/n: me personally i just eat if im hungry

y/n: even during class i sneak in some bites

—

megumi: really? you sound like a fun deskmate.

—

y/n: aww ty!! you sound like a reserved guy

y/n: wish u were my deskmate. the one i have just sleeps

y/n: mind u shes apart of the student council

—

megumi: min?

—

y/n: yes!! gotta be principal’s niece privileges

y/n: i love her tho she's very nice

—

megumi: she is. you are too.

“were you guys flirting or just being honest?”

“bro, i don’t even know.”

y/n: i will definitely meet u today

y/n: somehow

y/n: gtg now see u later

—

megumi: bye.

teru swipes off the app, closes your phone, and places it face down on your desk. his expression seems serious — all three of you girls are silent.

“i’ve got to see what this dude’s like,” he begins. “so, i’ll be hanging around outside all day with the guys.”

“yes! be useful for once and get some intel.” mai’s now eager. she raises a hand to hold teru’s to which he accepts with the same enthusiasm.

you remained silent, wondering if you should make up a bullshit excuse to visit megumi’s classroom. realistically speaking, you can visit whatever classroom you like as a third-year student, but you don’t want to come off as abrupt.

“what’s on your mind, y/n?” min asks, poking your arm.

“i kinda wanna see megumi — given that i don’t remember his face at all.”

“ah.” both girls react the same way, nodding at your words.

“why not text him?” mai suggests.

“nah, too early for that.” you decline.

“well, we can walk around where the second years usually are. or we can just wait on teru.” mai revealed plan b and plan c.

you and min agreed, opting for the second one. you’ve got eight hours of class school anyway, there’s time to see him “by chance.”

-> 10:02 A.M ◟ first break of the day.

two minutes into your break and you felt your phone vibrate. you slid it slightly out of your pocket — just enough to where you can read the time and notifications.

(1) new message from terushima: lemme borrow five dollars

instagram: follower request from @tachosandcheese , @itadoredbull

+99 new emails.

“anything important? did he message?” min teases, eyeing your phone.

“who’s tachosandcheese and itadoredbull?” mai asks, slightly impressed by the usernames.

“no clue and no, he didn’t text.” you press your phone’s power button. “i’ll view those two insta accounts later.”

shrugging, you stood up from your chair, stretching your limbs before you make a move to the cafeteria.

“she’s already gone— mai, can’t we stay here?”

“get your lazy ass up, min.”

“i hate you both.”

P.O.V SWITCH ⟡ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO.

-> 10:02 A.M ◟ in the gym.

megumi and the four friends are currently downing entire water bottles in one go. having physical education class first thing in the morning isn’t what they’d look forward to. this break is hardly a break. they have yet another p.e class awaiting them after.

once they calmed down, tacho started up a conversation.

“so, i was talking to itadori last night right?”

they hum in response.

“and we found min’s instagram profile.”

“doesn’t surprise me.” toeni shrugs.

“yeah, did you find the one for megumi’s?” tichi says what megumi wanted to.

“well,” itadori unlocks his phone, showing the group a screenshot of an instagram account. “we think this is her.”

the group leans in, studying your supposed profile’s aesthetic.

“that’s a private private account, for real. it doesn’t look like there’s her name anywhere.” toeni’s the first to say something.

they all look at megumi, waiting for him to clarify. he’s the only one who knows your name.

“it’s not there.” he satisfies their curiosity again.

“dude, if we requested the wrong profile i’ll deactivate.”

“i’m with you on that one, itadori.”

they all continue to gossip, taking turns to tell a story until the class of hell begun once more. hopefully they can hold out until lunch break… hopefully.

-> 02:36 P.M ◟ end of school: not so unsuccessful.

the thing megumi looked forward to the most did not happen. he’s trying to not dwell on it too much — you’re a senior student, chances of you being busy are high.

somehow, it seems as if megumi has a skill for meeting your friends after school but not you. this time he was stopped by a guy who quickly informed him of the completely platonic relationship between him and you.

the information given to megumi by the friend, teru, was quite helpful — if megumi had the balls that is.

“if you’re looking to meet her alone, go to that large oak tree, she’s always there.”

advice he’s going to hold dearly. he won’t go directly (at least not right now) but he’ll get a view of you from a spot closer.

double tapping on his phone’s screen, he unlocks it before locking it back immediately. he wants to text, but school just finished. he will wait another four hours.

it’s not like he’ll be free to talk anyway. his friends decided that he needs to experience going on dates. there’s an unfortunate busy schedule of arcade and night market business later.

P.O.V SWITCH ⟡ THIRD-YEAR STUDENT, Y/N.

you’ve nothing to do — literally. chores are completed, no assignments, finished end-game content on your games, watched everything that interested you — quite literally nothing to do.

it’s eight p.m. you lost count on the amount of times you changed positions in bed and let out sighs of boredom. you’d call your friends but that’ll just end up with you all complaining about boredom.

at times like this you wished you had a boyfriend or something of the sort to be entertained by.

…

megumi.

but he hasn’t texted. should you do it first? he did text first initially.

grabbing your phone, opened megumi’s chat, ready to send a few messages.

y/n: hey wyd rn

megumi is typing…

megumi: hi. i’m at a night market with my friends.

megumi: the reception’s a bit bad.

megumi: the messages aren’t sending fast enough.

—

y/n: woah was that ur first triple text???

y/n: go megumi go!

—

megumi: you’re rubbing off on me a bit.

—

y/n: glad to hear my influence is strong

—

megumi: are you bored?

—

y/n: bored to the point of death

y/n: how’d u know

—

megumi: [photo attachment]

megumi: would you like one?

megumi: sorry. the messages aren’t sending in order.

megumi: but which keychain do you like?

—

y/n: thats ok dw

y/n: as for the keychains uhhh

y/n: i cant choose u do it

—

megumi: are you sure?

—

y/n: yeah do it

megumi is typing…

“how bad is the reception over there… he’s been typing for a hot minute,” you mumbled, unaware of the smile settled on your face.

megumi: nvm. it won’t send.

megumi: i’ll send a voice message.

—

y/n: fine by me bro

megumi’s message made you realise you also somewhat forgot what his voice sounded like. your boredom has officially been defeated.

megumi: [+ voice message: 00:20s]

“hi, y/n – if that’s how you pronounce it. i’ll buy you the black keychain since it'll match anything. i’m not sure if you’d want any— is that the girl? hi we’re megumi’s friends!! i’m tac— fuck off, tacho. as i was saying – it’s megumi speaking by the way – would you like anything else?”

the chaos of the voice message got a laugh out of you. you could’ve heard a faint “he’s so mean!” at the end of it – it was probably the tacho guy.

—

y/n: mmmm i dont want anything really

y/n: just buy two of what ur getting

y/n: we’ll match

—

megumi: sure.

megumi: talk to you later or when i get back.

megumi: sorry about my friends.

—

y/n: it’s okkkkkk they seem fun

y/n: mine would’ve stolen my phone during the voice message

—

megumi: seems like our friend groups are alike.

megumi: later. sleep well if you’re going to sleep.

—

y/n: and you stay safe!!

megumi is offline.

and the boredom returns. man, you really do need a little entertainment from a guy. just look at how megumi kept you smiling when he’s only met you once. tragic.

‘if tomorrow’s saturday…’ the voice in your head ponders, trying to piece together a potential date. it appears you have a gift or two to collect; maybe — just maybe you can further this short talking stage. you’re too impatient for it anyway.

[dstryvampres]

hi thats me again 😭 (i hope i'm not annoying or smth) one shot inspired by song "crush" ethel cain with jonathan crane?

you're like the least annoying requester ever ily, you always give me requests that make me so so so passionate about writing. also ty for making me bite the ethel cain bullet this song is goooood.

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Summary: you find out Jonathan Crane, a past classmate of yours in university, frequents the sketchy bar you work at.

Warnings: smoking(for both you and crane this time!), mention of drug dealing, fingering, nipple play, creampie, spanking once, breeding kink

Word count: 3.1k

Marlboro Reds is one thing that you and Jonathan Crane share in common, but not the only thing you share in common. A quick smoke break helped you discover the other two. Firstly, that you two went to the same university and took the same major during your undergraduate, and would smoke after the exact same class. Secondly, that now, almost eight years after graduating, you both go to the same bar run by Falcone in one of the sketchiest neighbourhoods in Gotham. Important to note that you were a full-time bartender, part-time stage act (only on Tuesdays and Thursdays) here, and Jonathan was merely a patron.

When you first saw Jonathan Crane here, you were stepping out for a five minute smoke break at around 2 am on a pretty mild Saturday. You didn’t take note of anyone in your usually smoking spot, just pressing around in your jacket pockets for your cigarette case and lighter. The cigarette case was in the left pocket of the leather jacket you have on, but you couldn’t find your lighter. You groaned, looking up at the sky. It’s hard to smoke without a lighter, but if you went back inside you were sure someone would put you to work before you could sneak back out.

There was a small click of a lighter to your left. Jonathan Crane, the overly successful psychologist that has an iron grip on Arkham Asylum, was offering you a light. You quickly fumbled around with your cigarette case and pulled one out. Placed the small stick in your mouth before leaning over and lighting it. Took a drag, blowing out the smoke, and letting it float upwards into the same sky you were just cursing.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, as you debated whether or not you wanted to call to attention the fact that you recognized him. You took another drag.

A part of you wanted to, it was crazy to see him in such a shady joint, where most of the criminals he kept under his own watchful eye came before he got hold, or more so the Batman got hold of them. Nevermind the brief stint of conversations you had with Jonathan throughout your undergraduate years because of smoke breaks. Another part of you was able to acknowledge that you worked at a shady joint as a bartender, despite your Bachelor’s degree. It was highly likely that Jonathan would look down on you due to the fact that you were now a bartender instead of a “high-class” job like him, you had all the right to do the same. What was an internationally recognized psychologist doing here?

“Why do you work here?” Jonathan asked, he didn’t look at you only at the end of his own cigarette as he flicked off the ashes.

“Offered better pay and benefits than anything my Bachelor’s could get,” you stated, looking at the wall of the building across from you.

Jonathan hummed in response. You didn’t bother asking him what he was doing here, you’d find out eventually, finishing off your cigarette before going back into the bar.

It would be about three months later that would find out from one of your coworkers that Jonathan was coming in here to receive some chemicals so he could test something out at Arkham. You never pressed any further, that path of life was no longer yours to ask and investigate. At a place like this you learn quickly to not dig into anything, you never know how deep you can go without ending up dead or liable. Which was partially why you kept Jonathan’s little trips here secret, along with the great tips he gave and your attraction to him being reignited.

By late December of that year, about seven months since that first encounter, you knew certain things about Jonathan that made you feel as if you were stepping too close to that danger point. Of course you knew what days he would stop in, Mondays, Fridays, and possibly Thursdays, his enjoyment of martinis with extra olives and spiced rum and cokes, and his usual little routine around the bar. That was the basics, those are what you were allowed to know without any worries. It likely would’ve stayed this way, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were far too attracted to Jonathan.

Your rapid plunge into Jonathan’s life, and eventually his inner circle, started with how all good things start, workplace gossip. Everytime Jonathan came in, someone behind the bar noticed something new about him. One time something as small as a small cut across his lips sent your coworkers into a small frenzy. Someone started a rumour that he got it while fighting the Joker during the rogues recent stay in Arkham, another claimed it was from the Batman himself. No one could agree on which one was true.

Another aiding factor in your relations with Jonathan Crane was your small smoke breaks. Somehow you always caught the psychologist on his own smoke break. At first neither of you shared much dialogue, a quick question of how each other were doing and how work was going before falling into a silence. Until one day when Jonathan asked if you ever dreamed of doing more, leaving the sketchy part of town, seeing what else was out there. There was a pause as you thought.

“I mean, sometimes I daydream about it. Like if I had the money to do what you did, get a PhD in the thing I once loved… Maybe I’d attend Bruce Wayne’s fancy galas and live in an apartment that doesn’t often get raided due to drug lab busts and weapon sales. Who really knows though, maybe I’m destined for where I am,” you shrugged, looking over at Crane.

His eyebrows were furrowed together, like he couldn’t understand why you weren’t jumping, clawing at everyone and everything, to get out, to be more. How could you just brush off the life you are forced to live? Not crave a higher spot?

“Do you like how you live now?” Jonathan asks, flicking ashes from his cigarette.

“I don’t mind it, I’m still alive,” you state, “Do you like how you live now?”

Jonathan took a deep breath in, looking down at the rain soaked pavement. He dropped his cigarette to the ground and crushed it with the toe of his dress shoe, looking back up at you and locking eyes. His eyes were so blue, so intense, so full of something you just couldn’t understand at that moment.

“I don’t mind it. I’m still here,” Jonathan responds. It's vague, but somehow you get his wording, exactly what he wants to tell you is said.

He leaves without a word and you’re just left alone with your own cigarette and the smoke.

Fourth thing in common about you and Jonathan Crane: maybe your life is just mediocre, and maybe you don’t want much more.

Soon enough Jonathan came to your joint smoke breaks with more questions, and you came with more complex answers. Five minutes wasn’t enough for the two of you to connect, by November you found each other outside of the bar. 5pm to 9pm was just after Jonathan’s shift and just before yours, allowing for a quick dinner chat with one another or any other activity for two individuals in their late twenties. 2am to 7am was just before Jonathan’s work and right after yours, it was during this time that you would have to pick between one of your guys’ houses or the dollar slice pizzeria down the road.

Though it was in none of these places that you and Jonathan shared your first kiss. At 3am just right outside a conscience store on the corner of your street your lips found Jonathan’s. With a Diet Coke in your hand and a packet of nuts in his own hand. It was oddly tender for the passionate, fiery psychologist, he even placed a hand on your cheek during the initial kiss. It was mid November, and by the next day you started to end up waking up beside Jonathan in your bed. His clothes found a home in your laundry, and your clothes were tucked inside his dresser.

Twisted inbetween the exhaustion of living in Gotham, work, and now your weird relationship with Jonathan, you found a new rhythm.

“Nothing Dr Edwin ever taught us was important,” Jonathan huffed out beside you.

The both of you are laying on Jonathan’s bed, a soft light from a lamp on his desk at the opposite side of the room. Allowing you to see how the bones and muscles of Jonathan’s torso contort as he stretches and shifts beside you. He tucks an arm between you and the mattress, almost tangled together, almost sharing an intimate moment.

“You always bitch about that. Dr Edwin was just old fashioned,” you retort, rolling your eyes.

For the last week now, the chilly lacklustre atmosphere of the last week of the year, you’ve finally been able to piece together small portions of Jonathan’s life. Well, maybe not piece together, more like be hit in the face with it. After falling asleep last Wednesday at Jonathan’s place, you woke up and tried to retrieve some fresh clothing. Digging around in his closet you happen across a haphazardly stitched together mask. The craftsmanship is shakey, but it’s obvious the mask serves its purpose when you look at it a little long. A gas mask. More notably it was a scarecrow themed mask. You stuff it back into the drawer where you found it and continued on. This time, you wanted to let Jonathan keep this secret, at least at first.

Soon enough the questions caught up to you. Why would Jonathan need a gas mask? A scarecrow themed one at that? You already knew the answer. If you were right about this, you kind of didn’t care. You didn’t care if Jonathan was Scarecrow. If the man that had been the only person in all of Gotham to share almost every night with you, to sleep skin to skin with you was a bad man, it didn’t matter. Good men die. You’d rather be with someone who you know already cares for you. All the good Jonathan has done for you outways whatever he does out in the city on the nights he doesn’t spend with you.

“What do you do with the drugs you get from your buddies at the bar?” you ask, despite knowing that no matter Jonathan’s answer you’ll still stay.

Jonathan’s silent for a minute, chest moves up and down, getting slightly more rapid.

“I’m testing the concept of fear on patients at Arkham. I know it’s not morally correct, but I believe science and morals don’t always mix,” Jonathan states, glancing at you to gauge your reaction.

“Okay,” you hum out, rolling over onto your side to cuddle up next to Jonathan. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Jonathan offers back, stroking your cheek lightly with his finger before shutting his own eyes.

Men have done a lot worse, no good man exists really. Everyone has something. You’re no saint, and neither is Jonathan.

Two days later, now tangled on top of your own bed in your apartment. Cars pass by down on the street, despite it being extremely late. Gotham never sleeps. Jonathan presses his lips against yours, hot and needy. Breathing you in. His hands cupping your cheeks, and yours scratching his bare chest lightly. He licks at your lower lip before slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moan softly at the action, bucking your hips upward into his.

Jonathan breaks away from the kiss. Placing his thumb on your lower lip and swiping at it, then bringing it to his own mouth and kissing it. He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and lightly grabs a handful of hair, exposing your neck to him. You feel his breath tickle your jugular, then soft, almost nonexistent, kisses are placed up and down your neck. He repeats going up and down your neck in feather light kisses three times before he starts trailing sloppy wet ones down your neck. Biting softly in certain areas, soothing it with his tongue afterwards. You hiss and whine at every move he makes down your neck. Moving to wrap your arms around him, leaving small scratches on his back.

The hand in your hair drops to the clasp on the back of your bra, both hands slowly working off the item. Bra hitting the floor beside your bed as Jonathan starts to cup and squeeze your breasts. He kisses both of your nipples before pulling back and looking at your boobs in his hands. Moving his hands to tweak at your nipples, you whine out.

“So beautiful,” Jonathan sighs out, watching both your breasts as he tweaks at your nipples and your face contorted into pleasure.

Jonathan’s weight is pressed on your hips as he continues to toy with your nipples. Sitting on your hips as you lay down, unable to buck your hips in any search for pleasure.

“Oh— fuck, God! Jonathan, my tits are so sensitive right now! please just— ah.” you moan out, moving your hands to grip onto his biceps in support.

Jonathan just grins in response, giving one last pull to your nipples before moving his hands down to the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“You want me to touch your pussy now sweetheart?” Jonathan asks, toying with the fabric.

You nod eagerly, now able to buck and wiggle your hips to due Jonathan removing his weight off of your hips.

“You gotta speak up,” Jonathan teases, snapping your waistband.

“Yes please! Play with my pussy— all yours,” you whine.

Gasping in relief as he takes your shirts and panties off in one swoop. Though a little devastated Jonathan wasn’t able to admire the lacy black thong you picked out that night.

Jonathan hums as he spreads your pussy lips with his fingers, admiring your wet, hot core. Taking a finger and swiping up and down your cunt, gathering your wetness. He circles his fingers directly outside your opening, causing you to wiggle your hips and whine out. This earns you a small slap on your inner thigh, yelping out in pain.

“If you want something you ask for it,” Jonathan reminds, clicking his tongue.

“Can— oh, fuck— can you give me your fingers?” you ask, batting your eyelashes.

Jonathan instantly complies with your request, slipping two digits into your wet cunt. You gasp out at the intrusion, bucking onto his fingers. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, his pace reminds you that he’s merely doing this to stretch you out. You feel his hard-on poking at your thigh, precum staining his underwear.

“So wet for me tonight, aren’t you pretty girl?” Jonathan coos, rubbing his fingers across a sensitive spot in your cunt.

You moan in response, bucking your hips wildly looking for more. He’s right, you’re basically gushing around his fingers, and you already are leaking down your thighs and into the mattress below with just how wet you are. In the cock drunk state you’re in right now, you don’t care.

Jonathan removes his fingers from your cunt. You wiggle your hips in response and furrow your eyebrows, confused as to why Jonathan removed his fingers from your heat. Looking over to find Jonathan freeing his cock from his boxers.

Jonathan’s cock is fat, veiny, and just above average, stretching you out and spearing you. He always leaves you a slobbering mess, begging for his cum and your release by the end of the night. You can feel yourself clench around nothing as you look at Jonathan’s cock, he pumps himself a couple times then lines himself up with you.

There's no warning before Jonathan pushes his cock into you, causing you to yell out a moan. His hands find your hip as he bullies his cock into you, speeding you on it in one thrust. You're gripping at the sheets, legs wrapping around Jonathan’s waist tightly. He pulls out, only leaving his tip in, before Jonathan’s slamming back into you.

A pace is set almost immediately after that first thrust. It’s quick and leaves you moaning pornographically at almost every thrust he makes into you. Jonathan’s lips have come back onto yours, taking small breaks from kissing you to whisper fifth into your ears or to watch your boobs bounce with each thrust. Everytime he pushes into your sopping cunt his cock pressed past your velvety walls into your gummy sweet spot.

“So tight pretty girl, so wet for me too,” Jonathan moans, his breathing slightly increased.

“Fucking me so good,” you slur out in response.

“I’m gonna cum in you, make you all mine,” Jonathan groans, biting down into your neck.

Jonathan’s thrusts start to speed up more afterwards, lifting your hips up to meet his own hips. His balls slap at your ass, making a sound that reverberates around the room with each thrust.

Again, without warning Jonathan pulls out of you and guides you onto all fours before sliding back into you. Grabbing at your hips and fucking you back onto him. He’s groaning loudly as you moan, hitting a new spot inside of you that makes you clench around him tighter with each passing minute. His balls now slap against your clit, providing stimulation there that drives you crazy.

When Jonathan starts to speed up, pace becoming erratic, this extra stimulation on your clit sends you over the edge. Your face being shoved into the pillows as your cunt convulses around Jonathan’s cock. Moaning loudly as you grip onto the headboard of your bed.

“I’m gonna cum inside you— fuck- fuck- fuck- make you all mine,” Jonathan hisses out, burying his cock as far as he can into your cunt.

Bucking his hips in two more times before cumming inside your spent cunt.

You feel as he pulls out of your pussy, a mixture of your cum and Jonathan’s spilling out of you. Jonathan watches it glob out of you, before getting up and grabbing a towel to wipe you up with. Once he’s back he cleans you up, and attempts to do the same with your bed sheets to mediocre results. He throws the towel down and slowly nugs you to the other side of the bed where there isn’t a giant cum stain on the sheets. Laying down beside you and wrapping his arms around you.

“Do you still care for me despite all you know?” Jonathan mumbles, half asleep.

“I haven’t left yet,” you respond.

Taglist: @paradiseprincesss @luluartpop @xanaxiii @galactict3a

[hrtsdevils]

you made me love the number forty-three | fall to me au

summary: a close-knit bond is formed between luke hughes and y/n l/n throughout the years. they have their ups and downs, but they’ll always be there for one another.

pairing: platonic luke hughes x family friend!reader

wc: 1564

warnings: fuck ass bob

a/n this is based off of abby by gracie abrams, and it’s very dear to my heart! pretend that luke wasn’t committed to umich 2 years before he graduated… for the plot! sorry jack’s kind of a meanie, i love him!!! i swear!! it just fits w the lyrics <3 enjoy and thanks for reading!

tell me your secrets, ask every question. my door is open twenty-four/seven. think you were made from something in heaven. you made me love the number eleven forty-three.

october 2008-september 2010

Your family had known the Hughes family for as long as you could remember. Your mother had played soccer at the University of New Hampshire with Ellen, and she was the first person to cheer her on once hockey season started. This allowed them to form a close bond over their four years of eligibility. The Hughes family travelled a bit around the country due to the careers of Ellen and Jim, but as soon as they settled in Toronto with their seven, five, and three-year-old sons, your mother followed suit with five-year-old you and your eight-year-old older brother.

The older two boys in each family started hockey, and Jack was soon to follow. This left you and little Luke to hang out in the care of Ellen, and occasionally your mom. At first, you loved him, he was like your personal baby doll that you could drag around, dress up, and have tea parties with. Luke didn’t usually object, except for that one incident where you tried to make him wear “clip-clops”, as you called them, to which he had a temper tantrum about the sheer idea of putting them on his feet.

As you grew older, Luke wanted less to do with you and your girly things and more to do with hockey, along with whatever else the boys were doing. Although normal of him, you still felt betrayed. What can you say; you were seven years old. To try and make you fit in, Luke took craft scissors to your long, wavy hair and cut it to look like the boys. Maybe you’d have looked better if you had a pixie cut done by a professional salon, however, he was slightly less than and you came out with the same shaggy haircut as the five-year-old. You ran to your mom immediately, about to cry of embarrassment.

“Mommy, something bad happened!” You screeched, interrupting her conversation with Ellen and catching the attention of the three boys.

Covering her mouth slightly, Ellen was the first to speak, “Oh, sweetie.. what happened?” She reached out to touch your now chin-length locks and brushed a few stray longer hairs out of your eyes.

“Luke cut it, so I could play hockey with them.” You gesture towards the boys, “And now I... I look like him!” You exclaimed out of horror, finally realizing the drastic nature of your actions.

You started to tear up before your mother cut in, “Baby, you both look adorable! It’ll grow out soon, don’t worry about it.”

You were still seething for the rest of the day, and you were plotting your revenge plan on Luke for weeks. You wanted to kill him, and had been ignoring him since that very moment.

You figured your life was over, and what better way to spend your final moments pretending Luke didn’t exist after what he’d done to you. You decided that he was public enemy #1, or at least that’s what he was until you looked in the mirror, albeit a month or two later, and your hair had grown out into a short bob, framing your sweet features beautifully. You started to feel better about it.

Later that day, you went up to your mom and curled up in her lap. “Do you think Luke and I will ever get along again?” You asked while she was reading a book.

Your mother sighed and smiled at you, “You and the boys just have different interests. When you get older, things will be different and you’ll be even closer.”

december 2015

Your mom was right, although you and Luke were pretty far in age, he was practically your baby brother and best friend. You were close, despite differing interests and he would confide in you on a regular basis. One particular night, Luke rode his bike down the sidewalk in the cold, snowy winter and knocked on the window to your first-story bedroom.

You immediately let him in, then asked him what was wrong. Ten-year-old Luke pulled you into a hug and started spilling out his feelings and secrets. “Jack’s so rude!” He exclaimed into your shoulder, “He thinks he’s so much better at everything! Hockey, Mario Kart, basketball, all of it.”

“And?” You inquired, “Just ignore him, Lukey.”

He sniffed some more and released himself from your arms, “He keeps excluding me from his friends and stuff, they’re over and he pretends I don’t exist because I’m not good.” He wiped his nose and sat on the carpeted floor by your bed, “Quinn’s not home, he’s at a tournament with Mom.” He attempted to clarify why Quinn couldn’t stop, although you already knew because your brother was with them.

You frowned, “That’s not cool of him.” You quickly shot a text message to Jim saying Luke came over here to hang out, so nobody got worried. “Are you hungry?”

He nodded, and you offered to make some Kraft mac and cheese. “Feel free to listen to music or something, love you.” You slipped out the door and went to make him some dinner.

Since you were little, you knew for certain that you’d always be there for him and now you knew you’d always look out for him, whenever he needed it. Even if one day he’d be more able to protect himself than you ever could, today you would refrain from marching over to the Hughes residence and getting in a physical fight with Jack.

march 2020

It was almost your eighteenth birthday, so you were visiting home to hang out with your parents, the Hughes’, and a few other hometown friends. You entered the front door to your house after catching up with your friend over coffee to see your parents and the Hughes’ bent over Luke and his laptop. “What’s up?” You question, hanging up your big, puffy jacket.

“We’re waiting for my UMich college acceptance letter, they sent them out today.” He said, nervously. You could tell by the shakiness of his voice.

You joined them at the table, “Don’t be silly, Lukey. You know that they’ve already expressed interest in you and your game.” He smiled a little as you ruffled his hair, and sat down at the chair to the right of him.

“I wish Jack and Quinn were here.” Luke sighed and scratched his head, “Jack promised he’d call, but I think he’s busy.”

You frowned for him, you knew how much closer he and Jack had become in the last few years, but they’d drifted again when Jack moved to New Jersey last year. A part of you wished Jack had gone to college and stayed closer, but you and Luke knew he was too good for the NHL to wait on. “I’m sure he’ll call soon, bub. Give it a little bit.”

After about twenty minutes of refreshing and chatting, the letter from the University of Michigan popped up. It was nerve-wracking. Luke had already been accepted into a few safety schools that wanted him on their hockey teams, but he really wanted to follow in Quinn’s footsteps and go to Michigan. Luke’s cursor hovered over the email for a few moments before clicking it, and to nobody’s surprise, it was an acceptance letter. Everybody cheered, but you seemed the most excited (besides Luke, of course.)

“Luke!” You squealed, hugging the boy from the side as tight as possible, “You did it!”

He hugged you back, “Thanks for supporting me, and letting me sleep on your floor.. and buying me food all the time.” He chuckled, “Couldn’t have done it without you, sissy.”

present day

It was Luke and Jack’s day off, as they had zero games scheduled for the next few days. You had come to visit them to watch a few games, and you were staying at their apartment. It wasn’t a rare occurrence that you came and watched their games, stayed in the guest bedroom of their Hoboken apartment, and hung out with their team and whatever WAGs were joining them. But today it was just you and Luke, chilling on the couch and watching ‘Elf’.

“Remember last November when we went to New York?” You recalled while watching Buddy run through the city. Luke turned the TV down and grinned.

He nodded, “Yeah, good times. And we ate so much chocolate that you almost threw up.”

“That wasn’t because of the chocolate,” you objected, “it was because you were making me laugh so hard my organs hurt.”

Luke snorted as he remembered the vacation and the hotel room you guys stayed in. It was a spontaneous trip on a week when he was injured to try and cheer him up. You guys sat all night judging random music albums and your boyfriend at the time. It was all just a part of a collection of memories you loved to revisit, a photo album in your head.

“God, I can’t believe how old we’re getting.” You said, a tone of sadness. “You used to fit on my shoulders, and now I think you might break them if I tried to give you another piggyback ride.” You laughed softly.

“I’m grateful that our moms raised us two houses down.” Luke threw a piece of popcorn at your face.

You threw it back, “I’m grateful I get to know you.” You stated, a smile gracing your features.

i’m right here. fall to me, to me. fill your head with sweet dreams, sweet dreams. you’d never hurt a thing, nothing. i hope you know to talk to me.

end

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (03)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, slow burn—really slow burn, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, drama, OC cusses excessively so watch out

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

←Previous Chapter (02) | Next Chapter (04) →

****

Eight Years Ago; 2015

There was a small food cart on the outskirts of Incheon where two best friends frequent.

“Oi, shithead. You’ve been fucking staring at your food for twenty-two minutes already. What the fuck is wrong with you? ”

Jungkook whined, complaining about how creepy it was that his best friend knew how long he looked at his food and how you spit out three profanities in one sentence.

“Shut up.” your face turned red, embarrassed that your habit of knowing the exact time was showing. You developed this meticulousness back when you were writing your thesis paper. Time was precious. Thanks fuck you were done with it.

You graduated today. You and Jungkook were currently eating noodles to celebrate. Your best friend initially demanded that you cook his favorite crab spring roll, but your hands were tied. The graduation ceremony took forever to finish; your professors and friends even pulled you to celebrate after.

You were not a killjoy, but you didn’t want to end this day without seeing your best friend, so you quietly ditched the party and sought Jungkook’s company instead.

“You really came to see me. What a good girl you are.” Jungkook cooed when he saw you waiting at his doorstep. “ Here, your graduation gift.”

“HA!?” You were dumbfounded upon seeing his present. “You got me a choker?!”

“Of course! You are so busy these days. I got you a collar so you wouldn’t forget who you belong to.” Jungkook said in jest to conceal his selfishness. He wished you could spend more time with him, not just fleeting moments like eating spicy noodles in a small food cart, which he didn’t even like.

“Why the fuck did you order it if you don’t like spicy noodles!?” A vein popped into your head.

Jungkook groaned, “You know how much I hate upsetting a pretty lady.”

The ‘pretty lady’ Jungkook was referring to was an old lady called Louisa, the owner of the ADA--the food cart. This place was near your high school alma mater. You and Jungkook still went here despite graduating high school many years ago.

Jungkook usually ordered the shop’s best-seller crab spring rolls, which inspired you to make your version of said food. You remembered begging Louisa to teach you how to make it, but the lady couldn’t just give away her family’s recipe. She taught you the basics, and that was where you started until you got Jungkook’s approval.

Content with your version, Jungkook no longer ordered spring rolls whenever you two ate at ADA. He preferred their crab noodles, but only spicy foods were left now since you arrived late. Jungkook refused to change stalls because he adored Louisa.

“You’re really something.” You bought a can of milk for Jungkook to counter the spiciness of his noodles.

Jungkook pinched your cheeks in appreciation. He was happy that he managed to take a few bites and ignore the old man across the street who was singing out of tune.

Natsume was what the old man called himself. He had been doing his business across ADA for a long time. The only reason he wasn’t shooed away was that his performance wasn’t a song at all. He was making up random tunes while expressing what the ‘future’ of some people would be like.

In short, he was a fortune teller, and all his ‘predictions’ apparently came true.

Jungkook didn’t dare believe him. He got particularly annoyed at Natsume when he predicted his future and yours. He sang, “Fall out, fall out, you two will have a fallout. One so nasty it will break your hearts, with no hopes of returning ~.”

Jungkook still cringed every time he remembered that. He looked at you, ready to ridicule the fortune teller in front of you.

Who would have thought this was the start of the fortune teller’s prediction coming true? You shouldn’t have opened your mouth, but you did, saying, “Jungkook, what are your plans for the future?”

You were influenced by the main topic at the graduation party earlier. Everyone you knew was planning their future. You feared Jungkook wasn’t doing the same—that he wouldn’t belong.

“Haven’t I told you already? Jimin-hyung and I are committed to our business.”

Your jaw automatically ticked upon hearing Jimin’s name. You never really hated anyone, but Jimin might be the exception. Jimin was why Jungkook dropped out of university. He coaxed Jungkook into emptying his bank account for Bighit, their Business Process Outsourcing venture.

Now Jungkook was broke, only relying on his small interest in Port Mafia.

“How about school? Don’t you plan on going—”

“No.” Jungkook ruthlessly cut you off. The move didn’t deter you from speaking your mind, though.

“Why not? You only need to finish two semesters to graduate. It’s a pity you’re settling with just this.”

“Just what?” Jungkook raised his brow, irritation flaring up. He had a hunch of what you were implying.

Sure enough, you swallowed hard to cover your nervousness. “With this…I mean…dropouts are…” You struggled to find the right words to say.

Jungkook huffed, supplying the words for you. “…are what? Stupid? Lazy? Unambitious? Or a waste of time?”

“Oi, don’t put words into my mouth.” You hissed, getting pissed off too.

“But that’s what you wanted to say, right? You think lowly of me. You’re just like the rest of them.”

Jungkook heard all kinds of snide remarks when he dropped out of university. His adviser even called him a lost cause— that he would never be successful if he didn’t finish school.

  Bullshit.

Jungkook felt acid crawling up to his throat. “People like you think you’re above everyone just cause you have a degree, right? Arrogant.”

You lost your composure because of how hurtful he was being.

“So what if I’m arrogant!?” You dropped your chopsticks, no longer in the mood to eat. “I’ve earned a degree. I’m finished with my commitment, unlike you, who quit and only settled with faking smiles and licking the butt holes of people richer than you!”

“You--!” Jungkook clenched his fist. He always knew his best friend had a sharp mouth. You said things that made sense, but damn, they hurt. This wasn’t the first time you said something biting, but it was the first time you had hurt Jungkook’s feelings.

It was too late when you realized what you had said. Jungkook’s eyes were already red. You knew Jungkook hated fake pleasantries and wooing greedy businessmen, yet you used those things as a weapon to hurt him.

Truly a low blow.

“Screw you.” Jungkook spat before storming off.

Feeling defeated, you didn’t run after him, deciding to just go home alone and leave Jungkook to cool off.

But the following day, you found yourself standing in front of Jungkook’s apartment. The thing about you was you couldn’t bear fighting for real with your best friend. Bickering with him was fine, but you’d rather die than really hurt Jungkook.

You rang the doorbell. It was early in the morning. 4am. Every second that passed knowing you and Jungkook were not okay was like a stab in your heart.

Surely, Jungkook had calmed down. If he hadn’t, you would accept any kind of punishment. You just wanted to see him.

“Come on.” You pressed the doorbell once again. It never took Jungkook two rings to open the door for you, so you seriously considered breaking in.

But to your delight, the door swung open before you could do something stupid.

“What is it?” Stone cold voice hit you on the face.

A lot. You wanted to convey many things, such as apologizing and saying Jungkook had misunderstood your point. However, looking at your best friend’s still angry face left you no choice but to lower your eyes. Your heart felt like it was pricked by thousands of needles.

You knew you were in the wrong. You could only raise the paper bag you were holding.

“I made crab spring rolls. Do you want them?”

“What makes you think I want them?” Jungkook crossed his arms, which caused you to swallow hard.

You bit your lip too, looking at Jungkook despite your guilt. “You’re right, you might not want them anymore, but I can only bring this hoping you’d accept my apology and also...also to—”

You weren’t planning to bring this up while still outside Jungkook’s home, but you couldn’t bear to look at his angry face anymore.

You voiced out your trump card. Your last resort. “—to ask you if you’re willing to guide me on investing at Bighit?”

As expected, Jungkook was shocked. His lips parted wide. “Why? You don’t mind licking butt holes with me?”

“Oh, for Fuck’s sake!” You pushed the paper bag into Jungkook’s chest. “I was wrong, okay? I’m an arrogant devil. ”

You craned your neck, purposely showing off the choker adorning your neck.

Fire danced in Jungkook’s eyes. He lowered the paper bag to cover the bulge in his sweatpants.

Fucking hell, you’re so hot. Jungkook scolded himself, forced to contour his expression to neutral.

“Then what are you waiting for? Come in.”

Needless to say, you left Jungkook’s apartment feeling grateful that you had a choker to cover some obvious bite marks.

Present, 2023:

“Pwetty lady! Spring yoll! Bin-bin! Want!” A certain someone was banging the top of ADA’s table, almost as if he couldn’t wait for even one more second.

“Hey, kiddo. You already ate seven pieces.” You folded your arms across your chest, your brows furrowing at the small child sitting before you.

The said the child pouted his lips, his eyes losing their sparks.

Jungkook’s sparkling eyes were still vivid in your mind, probably because you had just finished reminiscing about what had happened five years ago. As a result, you couldn’t help but associate this kid with your former best friend.

You always thought that Jungkook’s eyes could replace the stars. It was your weakness. Those eyes made you want to dig your heart out and give it to Jungkook for free. The universe knew about this, so why must you suffer it the second time?

Why did Soobin, the kid in front of you, have to have the same sparkly eyes as Jungkook?

“Spring roll! Want!” They even had the same favorite food.

You scoffed. Like father like son, huh?

“A brat dares to make demands when he can’t pronounce the words right? Spring yoll, my ass.” You mocked the kid.

Soobin ignored you. He continued banging on the table.

“Spring yoll! Bin-bin! Want! Spring yoll!”

“Okay, fine. I’ll buy you more. Just you wait, young master.” You playfully rolled your eyes, giving in to the request of your adoptive son.

“Is it that good?” You took one piece of spring roll. It had been many years since you last tasted this. Back then, you’d rather have Jungkook eat them all.

“Good! Very good!” Soobin stuffed another piece inside his mouth, clearly enjoying it.

The kid was right. The crab spring roll was delicious. It tasted the same way it did five years ago. You unconsciously gripped your phone, fixing your gaze on the screen as if waiting for a New Year’s miracle.

But it never came.

Last night, you met up with Jungkook, hoping to talk to him. Unexpectedly, Jungkook was drunk.

Now that he was sober, you thought he would call.

What wishful thinking.

“But nothing’s changed.” You thought to yourself as you looked around the place. ADA was still open for business; its famous spring rolls were still loved by many. Even Natsume was still singing across the street. The only difference was that you couldn’t hear the old man singing.

ADA expanded its business. They now had alfresco dining. You chose to eat inside the restaurant, afraid Soobin would catch a cold.

Everything stayed the same except for people. Back then, you went to ADA with your best friend. Years later, you went to ADA with your former best friend’s kid.

You could only swallow the bitterness down your stomach.

“Full! Wanna go home! Sleep!” Soobin said after eating the last piece of spring roll.

You hummed, “We’ll go home in a while. Count one to one hundred first.”

Soobin threw dirty looks at you as if to say, “This young master doesn’t know how to count!” You laughed a little. Of course, he couldn’t count up to a hundred yet. He was still so young.

So young.

But someone had already missed a few years of Soobin’s life.

You looked at your phone again.

Still no call.

“Alright, Bin-bin. Let’s go home.”

At last, you and your son left the food shop. As you two walked out, the horrible singing voice of the fortune teller reached your ears.

His lyrics were as nasty as before. Soobin covered his ears in annoyance, asking you to walk faster as he didn’t want to hear Natsume sing:

ring, ring, ring

the phone rings

the boy saw black

and the girl saw red

ring, ring, ring

the phone rings

how cruel it is

to have you waiting

for someone who can’t

 even

breathe.

****

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A/N: comments motivate me to write. leave some if you can ~~ ❤️

[so-so-woso]

i wanna be the one | part 1

Edit: Changed title. Thanks to Dru for the suggestion. From the song "Things We Never Say" by the Bad Bad Hats. Great song, potentially relevant maybe who knows.

Summary: Reader is an English-American GK who joins the Arsenal squad and ends up in an interesting back and forth with Leah Williamson. This chapter is mainly set-up for the future. The vibes will probably be very different going forward lol

Warnings: Angst, swallowing self-doubt, and mentions of parental death in the first section.

Word Count: 3,284

London felt just like Seattle. You were expecting it to feel different, more European (whatever that meant), but when you stepped out of the airport and that familiar January rain hit your skin, it was a welcome feeling. It wasn’t quite Home – you hadn’t had one of those in a long time – but it was definitely welcoming, and nice enough that you didn’t bother with an umbrella. It would’ve been hard enough trying to carry one along with all your bags anyway, although by the look on your driver’s face he really wished you had at least tried. It was nice that the team had sent a car to meet you, especially since you didn’t really know anyone here that well, but you supposed they would do that for any new signing. The driver helped you get your bags into the car and then you were off to the club to dot some Is and cross some Ts to make everything truly official.

Wistful thoughts crept into the back of your mind as you were chauffeured through the streets of London, and you decided for the first time in a long time not to fight them. Not here, anyway – not now. Not after everything it took to get you here. Get you here again, technically. You were born in London after all, and raised in Sheffield where your mother had grown up. Your father was an American, from Dallas, who came to England for graduate school and stayed for the woman he fell in love with. He often teased her about “real (American) football” but she converted him to Sheffield United fan, though he would never admit it – at least not until you were born. Match days became a family event as soon as you could stand up on your own, even though you were still too young to really remember anything at that point, but by the time you could run you wanted nothing more than to play. You were always bigger than the other kids so they made you play with the boys, but you knew a lot of the women’s national team players had played on boys’ teams growing up, so you didn’t mind it. You were never upset about that, but you were upset when they made you move to the goalkeeper position when you were eight. It was the boring position and you never got to do anything, but you were the only kid on the team who didn’t seem scared of the ball when it came flying at you, so the job fell to you. Many years later, it would prove to be the right choice, but for a while you thought it felt like a punishment from the universe. Then you found out what that kind of punishment actually felt like.

You were only eleven when your parents died. It was a car accident; your mom was driving. She took the brunt of it and was gone by the time the ambulance arrived. Your dad was in the hospital for two days, but he never woke up. You had been in the back seat. Heavy bruising, a busted ribs, broken collarbone, and a big gash across the side of the head was it for you. You were in the hospital too, for a while. Your paternal grandmother came all the way from Austin to pick you up and take you to live with her. Your mom’s parents had been gone for a while now, and GiGi – what you had called your father’s mother – was all you had left. You had only met her a few times before, but you didn’t really have another option, so across the pond you went.

It would be a massive understatement to say that Texas was different from Sheffield. It was truly a whole different world, but kids are resilient enough. You were famous for a while, because of your accent, and then you were weird for a while, because of your accent, and then eventually you became just one of the kids. Your GiGi was supportive as well, more than you had expected her to be. You didn’t know much of the specifics as a kid, but you knew she and your father had had some sort of falling out and weren’t as close as they had been when he was younger. You always thought it had to do with him choosing to stay in England rather than come home to America. When you got older it seemed like maybe there was more to it than that, but GiGi wouldn’t talk about it. She did help you get into therapy, so that you could learn how to process what had happened and all the big changes that came with it. You didn’t like it at the time, but in hindsight it was probably the best thing she could’ve done. She even started trying to learn about football – soccer – too, because she knew you liked it, and she made sure to sign you up for the local league. You think maybe that time doesn’t heal wounds, but it sort of scabs them over enough that they only hurt when you pick at them, so eventually you learn to stop picking at them, and after that life became kind of normal.

You eventually played soccer in high school – goalkeeper, naturally – and were good enough to get recruited to the University of Texas. From there, the NWSL draft sent you to Seattle for the OL Reign. You spent a season as the third-string goalkeeper, then a season as the second-string, and then were presented with an opportunity you couldn’t dare turn down. It had been Kim Little’s idea, apparently. She had only played with you in Seattle for a month or so, and you never really hung out, but she knew you had grown up in England and that you had really wanted the chance to play football in Europe. She would tell you later that she was impressed with your resilience, something you had heard often growing up, and that you had a “dead brilliant reaction speed” which you guessed sounded good. So when Arsenal’s back-up goalkeeper transferred out and they were weighing their options, she suggested they give you a look. She had said it offhandedly, like it wasn’t a big deal, but you would wager she fought harder for you than she let on. You had only played a handful of games in two seasons, and while you were admittedly good, the offer from the English club still came as a massive surprise. They were up front and adamant about your status as a pure back-up to Zinsberger, and while you would’ve had a decent chance to win the starting spot in Seattle, you just couldn’t say no to European football, to England, to the Arsenal.

That’s how you ended up in the back of a dark car being driven through the streets of north London in the pouring rain. Your fingers fiddled absently at the chain around your neck and the two golden bands that hung from it while you considered everything that led you here, hoping that you made the right choice. Only time would tell, you thought, as the car squealed to a slow stop. You hesitated for a long moment before tucking the necklace under your shirt and moving to exit the vehicle. The driver met you at the car door, an umbrella extended overhead. You were taller than him, so you had to awkwardly bend your neck as he moved to close the door behind you.

“This shouldn’t take long,” he said, “Then we’ll get you home.” You thanked him and stuffed your fists in the pockets of your coat as you followed him up to the club, your stomach slowly rising higher and higher into your throat as the series of decisions you had recently made began to congeal rather quickly into a hard reality. It was some grotesque mix of nerves and excitement and fear that just fully slapped you in the face when you stepped inside the building. You hadn’t felt like this in Seattle, or on the plane, or in the car, but now that you were here, physically, it’s like everything else was physical too. It wasn’t some amorphous Choice floating in the metaphorical ether of your life; it was a foreboding Presence leering down at you, clawing at your shoulders from behind, and whispering ‘you don’t deserve this’ into your psyche. Nausea began to swell up, to the point you were just starting to feel dizzy. Out of instinct you reached forward and put your hand on the driver’s shoulder, who stopped walking to turn and see what you needed. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but was interrupted by a distinctly Scottish, “Oh ‘ey, Tex!” behind you.

You both turned to see Kim Little striding down the hallway, followed closely by Jonas and one of the other coaches. You swallowed hard, all the torturous feelings slowly fading away as you saw a familiar face. “Hey, Little Kim, “ you retorted. She scoffed and faked a jab towards your ribs before she reached up to hug you.

“Welcome to the party,” she said, stepping back to introduce the coaches, who shook your hands. They welcomed you as well and explained that the evening would be brief, they were sure you’d be tired from the flight, but just needed to finalize some things on the business side and then Kim would give a tour of the facilities. You thanked them, probably too many times, and went with them all to finish your paperwork and pick up your official training gear. Your kit wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow since they’d have to put your name on and weren’t sure what number you wanted (you picked 18 because it was available and made sense for a goalkeeper). Kim showed you around, asked about the flight, and made you feel as welcome as she thought she could. It was nice to talk to someone for a while. You weren’t exactly an extrovert, but you were Southern enough you enjoyed being around people, and being able to talk to Kim, even if it was more or less small talk, made you feel better, and by the time the tour was done all of the earlier feelings were forgotten. You started to think that maybe this whole thing was a good idea after all.

“So no rest for the weary – first training tomorrow, yeah? Text me your address and I’ll pick you up. Since you won’t have a car, Uber’s always an option, but until you get sorted, you can get rides with me,” Kim said.

“Sounds good. Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m picking you up extra early tomorrow – the girls’ll want to meet you before kickin’ balls at your head.”

“Well, I guess that’s only polite.”

You both laughed and hugged goodbye before heading your separate ways, you pulling out your phone to look up your new address to send it to Kim. This was a good decision, you thought, this was a good decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your apartment – or flat? – was nicer than you expected it to be. You had done a Zoom tour while you were still in Seattle and it looked fine, but you had tempered your expectations to be safe. Turns out, you didn’t need to. It was a two-bedroom and furnished with the basics, so there was plenty of space for you and plenty room to decorate as you saw fit. You had what was sometimes described as an eclectic taste by your friends, mainly because you liked to decorate with things that made you happy. That seems like an obvious thing to decorate with, but you were kind of – literally – a giant dork, which meant you had a lot of “nerd shit” as your friends would tease. You expected the Arsenal girls would do the same if they ever started coming over, but all of that would be a long time coming. Tonight, all you wanted to do was collapse into bed, which is exactly what you did.

Kim wasn’t lying when she said she’d pick you up early. At least she had the decency to bring you coffee, but she was completely taken aback when you admitted you didn’t really drink coffee and actually preferred tea. “Guess there is some English in you after all,” she had joked as she drove. She asked about your night and how you slept, and pointed out all the important-to-know shops and stops between your apartment and the training center. When you finally arrived, you asked her if she accepted tips for her tour knowledge – to which she responded with “only big bills”. You laughed as you retrieved your bag from the back of her car, and the two of you headed in.

The next few days were an absolute blur. You were introduced to everyone, and they all seemed pretty nice. McCabe kept talking about how tall you were, but from how everyone else acted that was normal. Manu was happy to have another goalkeeper in the squad despite the fact you would both technically be competing for the starting spot, even though you were explicitly hired as a back-up. At least it didn’t seem like there would be any weird hurt feelings or anything there, so you were glad for that. All your other time was spent trying to discern personality types and team dynamics, and also actually training. The coaches had told you they wouldn’t expect you to go full on for the first few days to give you time to acclimate to everything. You thanked them, of course, but that didn’t stop you from diving in head first.

By the time your official day three was over, you wished you had taken it a little easier. It felt like jet lag hit you late, on top of the normal physical tiredness of training. But that evening as the team as the team filtered out of the locker room, Katie McCabe slapped you on the back and said, “Drinks on you tonight, mate!” You turned to look at her, but before you could ask, Kim interrupted with a sharp “Katie–“

“Hold on, hold on! I don’t mean a big to-do, but we gotta welcome the newbie right, right?”

A couple of the other players voiced their agreement and Kim rolled her eyes. “Two drink maximum.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Three?”

“Two, McCabe.”

“Two and shots?”

“…”

“Two…and shots?”

“…one shot.”

“Fuck yes, best captain ever! You’re riding with us, Y/N!”

A mix of confusion and amusement spread across your face as you looked between the two of them, and Kim just shook her head and waved at you to go with Katie, so you let yourself be pulled away into whatever the night would bring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite telling you that you were paying for drinks, Katie was nice enough to only make you buy the shots, and despite Kim’s hesitance at you all going out mid-week, it was a surprisingly calm evening. You ended up sitting at a table with just a handful of your new teammates. Most of them were joking around with each other, teasing and taunting. You sat quietly, unsure of how inserting yourself into the dynamic would come off. You thought of a few quips throughout the conversations, but made sure to hold your tongue, choosing to sip on your beer instead.

“You always this quiet?”

You glanced over in the direction of the voice, inadvertently locking eyes with Leah Williamson. You knew who she was, obviously – won the Euros and all. What you hadn’t known was that she was even more attractive in person. You didn’t even know that was possible, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise.

“Not usually,” you responded, drawing in a breath. “Just can’t get a word in edgewise with this one goin’ off.”

You gestured towards Katie, who didn’t even register the comment. It did get a chuckle out of Steph and Foord, though, which made you relax a bit. Looking back at Leah, she was still looking at you, but didn’t seem to react otherwise. You paused for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek, before deciding to just go for it.

“So in the summer do you ever get a weird tan on your forehead from frowning so much?”

That did draw Katie’s attention; you could tell from the way she practically guffawed.

“Oy, she’s got you dead to fuckin’ rights!” she said, leaning over to elbow at Leah. The Aussies had laughed as well, as did Kim. Leah didn’t look impressed at the remark, but from the twitch of her lips you would swear she was biting back a smile. She had nice lips. Were you staring at her lips? Your eyes flashed back up to hers and she was still looking at you. She would’ve been able to tell where you were staring. That’s…embarrassing. You swallowed hard, and quickly looked away, taking a long swig of your drink. If anyone else at the table noticed the interaction, they didn’t react. Katie started in on you immediately, dragging you into whatever she had been talking about before, and from there you spent the rest of the evening integrating yourself into the team.

The bar was really only starting to fill up when Kim decided it was time for you all to get a move on. There was some light-hearted grumbling, but everyone was professional enough to know how to behave. You had popped into the toilet before leaving, and when you came out of the stall, Leah was washing her hands. You hesitated for a brief moment before moving up to the sink next to her to wash your own hands, the little bit of alcohol you consumed tonight just enough to embolden you.

“Man, Williamson, what kind of a world is this where you’ve got those legs and no rhythm,” you teased, quickly busying yourself with the most thorough hand-wash you’ve ever done so you didn’t have to look over at her and see how poorly she took the remark.

“You spend a lot of time thinking about my legs?”

You froze. It would seem she didn’t take it too poorly at all. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you turned off the sink and turned to look at her. She was staring at you again. Seemed like maybe she did that a lot.

“Yeah, maybe,” you finally said. She hmmed a bit and cocked her head to the side. The glint in her eye was the only thing that kept you from worrying you were being too forward, and you silently prayed it wasn’t a trick of the fluorescent lighting overhead.

“You think you’re being all charming, with your little jokes?”

“No, not really,” you shrugged. “I think I have the personality of a 14-year-old boy and it’s the only way I know how to flirt with you.”

Leah changed at that. Her posture shifted. Her shoulders dropped slightly. The glint in her eye was gone. You fucked up, you thought. You’ve been here for four days and you already fucked up.

You moved to apologize at the same time Leah moved to respond, but both of you were interrupted by the door to the bathroom slamming open and a group of girls rushing in. You turned around and pushed yourself up against the edge of the sink to get out of the way, but Leah dipped her head down and shoved out past them, taking the opportunity to escape without you being able to stop her.

Yep. You fucked up.

[lilgoblinbitch]

saw your post about rick and daryl, do you think you could write a rick TOWL smut with him angry that you left your post and got yourself injured and he takes out his frustration on you? idk why just had that idea after the recent episode😫

Grimes' Dominion 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

rick grimes x fem!reader

a/n: ahhh omg yes i actually had time to think abt this for a few nights. i added a bit of plot to this because i love me some backstory & descriptions. but anyway i made this pretty lengthy so if u wanna skip to the smut part just look for the '💋'. here is your plotty smut! lmk your thoughts ₊˚⊹♡

warnings: smut 18+, PinV, unprotected sex, oral/face fucking (male receiving), slight bondage, fingering, ass slapping, hair pulling, orgasm denial, degradation (use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’), language, mentions of blood and injury, angsty angsty angst!, reader is a mother, overall Rick is very rough so you have been warned

wc: 6k

MDNI

It was training day at your post. You had recently graduated from consignee and signed up to become a CRM soldier. It took you six whole years to get to this point. While your agility and militia knowledge were already unprecedented, the CRM didn't fuck around when it came to producing the world's most unrivalled soldiers. It was serious business.

Nearly eight years ago, you trekked a long journey down from your small community in southern New Jersey. You lost everything: your husband, your friends, and the people you lived with and grew stronger with through the grisly and dilapidated post-apocalyptic world. Terrible people – which were apparently becoming more and more common – destroyed your community, leaving very few survivors. It was you and your newborn child who managed to escape safely; you weren't able to go back to see if others had made it out. For almost two years you were alone, and your only hope left was keeping your baby boy alive...

Fast forward two years after the traumatic fallout you managed to escape, you discovered, or rather you were found by, a giant military in Pennsylvania, called the CRM. A military that bordered and protected a whole city of people – 200,000 of them. Out of desperation and maternal instinct, you bargained with the militia in hopes to give your two-year-old son a stable future. The CRM agreed to place your son in a 'nurturing fostering service' within the safe confines of the protected city – known as the Civic Republic of Philadelphia – so long as you swore to abide by the military's code and regulations by becoming a consignee.

Of course you agreed, because you were nonetheless terrified of what would happen to your baby boy if you didn't play it safe with this strong force. But for a while you lost it, you couldn't bear not seeing your child – they took him from you. You became defensive of your child, throwing yourself into dilemmas with whoever refused to listen to you. Except no one ever took notice of an angry and hurt mother because the CRM showed little mercy about their policies. And no matter how much force you put into finding hope about getting to your son, you'd always end up falling right back where you left off.

Soon enough you learned from acquiring an acquaintance that not only did the CRM take the only family you had left away from you, they were the ones responsible for destroying your home in the first place.

But now, six years later, you were predisposed to fight whoever and whatever got in your way in order to see your son again. You were a force to be reckoned with.

"No, you're doing it wrong. You gotta follow through, like this—" your sweaty hand maneuvered the heavy spear, sending it soaring through the air at high speed and finally piercing the bullseye of the target. You turned to the soldier beside you, who, to say the least, looked perplexed.

"What?" You huffed, blowing a loose strand of hair out of your face. "Ya give up? Need a break?"

"’Ey! Rogers, I'mma need ya to head back inside. We're gonna start sizing you all up for your new gear."

A brooding and strict man, Sergeant Major Rick Grimes, commanded the young man beside you. "Uh, yes sir," he saluted, then jogged toward the dome-shaped building.

Rick Grimes used to be a consignee like you were, and you even heard stories where he tried escaping at least four times. No one ever fled, or even attempted to, without failing. Escaping the hellhole was like trying to fit your right shoe on your left foot, it was entirely fruitless. But you heard all the stories about Rick, and how he got to become a leader. After the death of Lieutenant Colonel Donald Okafor, Rick was trained to replace his position by virtue of General Beale taking note of his loyalty to the military. Now, Rick was scaling further up the ranks. He was Sergeant Major, and in charge of the post you currently resided in.

You looked up to him, though, not because he was your leader, but because he understood you. He recognized how it felt to have your family ripped from your hands and not be able to do anything about it. You were able to bond with him. Most nights he would invite you to his apartment and the two of you'd spill your guts to one another over a glass or two of bourbon. That is how he got to know you, and see through your clouded demeanor that you kept in check. You were fierce and obstinate, because the place you were trapped in forced you to be that way, and truthfully Rick admired that about you. He was never able to relate with someone as well as he did with you.

Feedback echoed from Rick's receiver and he lifted it to his masked face, stating his position and whatnot. You crossed your arms, waiting for him to give you an order. "Well?"

He turned his attention to you, finally. "We need to talk." His one good hand snagged a hold of your arm and guided you toward a smaller brick-designed building, which you recognized to be the building that housed the high ranking officials like Rick himself.

"What do we need to talk about? And why is Rogers getting his gear but I'm not?" You struggled against his grip, a decision that ended with futility as his clutch tightened when you tried pulling away from him. You furrowed your brows and grunted in annoyance.

"Relax, sweetheart, you're not in trouble. Actually it's quite the opposite." Once again he faced you, stopping in his tracks as you both had reached the air-conditioned building. His grasp on your arm loosened and then reached for his matte black helmet detailed with red outlining. Your eyes darted across the room, taking in the essence of prestige and momentarily locking in on the various framed photos on the walls, which depicted a few recognizable CRM authoritative figures. One particular photo caught your attention, and you carefully examined it, discerning it to be Rick himself with a shiny black name plate decorating the bottom of the frame.

Your gaze finally diverted back to Rick, whose helmet popped off in a swift motion, freeing his slightly disheveled brown and gray curls, and his stern blue eyes – the spellbinding reflections to his enigmatic soul. And this man was undoubtedly a sight for sore eyes. 

The silence was disrupted by the shuffling of Rick’s boots, his curt footsteps leading him across the room. He pulled out a chair from the corner and without any trouble picked it up with one hand and set it down across from a dark wooden desk. “Sit.” He motioned to the chair, and then found a seat in the larger, more cushioned chair adjacent to it. Without a peep you sauntered over to the wooden chair and sat, folding your hands on the desk in front of you. 

“You gonna keep me on edge or are you gonna tell me why I’m here and not at training and getting my gear?”

His serious eyes bored into yours now, hinting that he wasn’t in the mood for your cynicism. “I brought you in here to tell you that you’re going to become Colonel under my order.”

You scoffed comically and dropped your hands to your sides, gripping the chair with force. “That’s ridiculous. Me – Colonel? Why?” 

Rick’s focus never left your unserious face – one that was twisted with amusement. With a slight tilt of his head, he spoke, “Because you’re one of the best fighters and you’re fit to start leading, I know it. And I trust you, so does Major General Beale. We both expect your habitual commitment from now on.”

While you were still preoccupied with processing this information, Rick reached into one of his sleeve pockets and pulled out a silver badge, decorated with ‘Col.’ followed by your full name. He slid it across the desk toward you and you scrutinized it before giving him a look of disapproval and sliding the badge back to him. You shook your head in defiance.

“No thanks.” 

He frowned and once again his frigid stare taunted you, something you’d undoubtedly gotten used to very much over the past few years that you'd known him. He leaned forward and for a second you could feel the steam emitting from his nose as he exhaled, eyes scanning your face for any signs of possible sarcasm. You were dead serious now, though.

“This isn’t an offer you can refuse. It’s an order,” the sergeant commanded, grabbing the badge reiteratively and this time placing it firmly into your hand. “So take it, and don’t lose it.” 

You remained perched in your spot, not stirring any muscle, just studying his face with the badge dancing across your fingertips. Rick was not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. “Now do as I say, and meet me in that meeting room over there, in 10 minutes.”

You snarled and swiftly rose, shoving the badge into your zipper pocket. Without even giving Rick another look you booked it out the door full tilt.

All throughout meeting with Grimes and Command Sergeant Major Thorne and overlooking your shared brigade of soldiers, your mind couldn’t escape the worry you had about your son, and how you were going to escape and find him. Your mind raced as you tried to recollect what the map of your base looked like, so that you could pinpoint which weak spots there were around the perimeter.

You recall a little while back which security took which shifts at each area of the southwest perimeter where your complex was, but it wasn’t all that simple since sometimes they’d switch shifts around. However, security officers periodically switched their attention to different areas at a time out along the walls, so you could use that as leverage to sneak your way around and cut a hole in one of the fences–

Nah. That would be too obvious, and dangerously stupid. You needed to really think this through – come up with a strategic plan. So that’s what you were prepared to do after your first night of training as Colonel. 

Sweaty and disheveled, you entered your sleeping quarters and kicked the door shut, immediately peeling off your bulky armor and tossing your heavy combat boots across the floor. With a satisfactory sigh, you trotted over to the shower and flipped the handle all the way to the left – you needed a steamy shower to filter out all the stress your body had been loaded with that day. Not only that, the steam would help you think, and you needed your head clear if you were going to figure out how to leave successfully that night. 

If you were going to escape – if. You needed to keep that thought in mind, because it sure as hell wasn’t going to be a piece of cake.

Frantically you shoved a handful of essentials into a black backpack – a lighter, duct tape, a pocket knife, flashlight, and a small glock you 'borrowed' from your trip with rick to the armory earlier. After zipping up the bag you threw on your combat boots and your gloves. You checked your watch for the time; 11:48 it read. The moon was scintillating in the sky and beaming with conviction. You took one last glimpse around the room to check if you had forgotten any extra tools or gadgets, and before you confirmed that you were ready to head out, you spotted something on the rusty gunmetal colored nightstand.

Inquisitively you wandered over to the table and examined a small, white folded paper. You unfolded it and inside it read, in urgent script:

“Meet me at my place at 11:30 tonight. Need to talk again.

-R.G.”

Too late now. Not happening. Besides, you were sure it was another booty call because for one, on busy task days like tonight, Rick often had a knack for ‘letting off steam,’ which meant fucking your brains out. Sorry, Rick, but my child is more important to me than easing your sexual frustration. And two, it was already reaching midnight…why else would he want to “talk” to you so late at night? Rick was just too obvious.

Speaking of Rick…

The man who shared his bourbon with you for the first time two years ago. That very night he had spilled to you CRM’s legacy and the nightmares behind it. The two of you bonded over your mutual grievance toward the antagonizing militia. Rick spurred hope in you finally leaving and finding your son; if anyone could help you escape it was him. But he changed – his interest in leaving the CRM no longer seemed to exist. After all, he was already climbing his way up the military rank. He was gaining power and respect, and that seemed to be more crucial to him then getting back to his own children. 

So, screw him. He had his chance to leave with you, and it already passed – because now you were tiptoeing out your apartment and being welcomed into the darkness of the night.

You were cautious of your surroundings, turning a few corners and eluding one or two officers. You noticed the southwest wall, which didn't look impossible to climb. You discovered a hefty pile of broken shipment container parts – bingo. And that's what you used to climb the wall. unfortunately your endeavor led to you stumbling and hitting both your knee and your arm against the metal object, then landing with your hands scraping against the unforgiving concrete. Fuck. What an idiot you were. Surely someone within about twenty feet of you heard you basically eat shit.

Gritting your teeth and whimpering from the twinge that shot through your knees and hands, you managed to put every fiber of your being to use and push yourself off the ground, only to end up on your ass with a humph. You winced as you peeked at your hands, using the flashlight from your bag to examine how badly cut they were. Blood leaked from multiple crevices in your palms, and you didn’t even bother paying much mind to your bruised knee or elbows because there was no time to dawdle.

“Shit. You need to get up now!” You scolded yourself, but as you tried standing up completely, your knees buckled. Well, at least behind this building it was dark enough for no one to see you, unless they heard you already…

Your alert ears picked up the sound of shoes marching upon the solid ground, and you cursed to yourself; someone was coming, but there was nothing you could do because they had already heard you most likely. “Just play dead, or pretend you passed out!” 

You heard your name being called out from somewhere behind you.

The pace of your heartbeat quickened drastically, causing your head to spin toward the voice. Well, shit. It was Rick Grimes himself. This time his helmet wasn’t on and he seemed to have abandoned his uniform. He was instead dressed in jeans and that black tee that always hugged his muscles so perfectly–

“What the fuck are you doing?” His voice boomed in your ears as he knelt down to your level, and you shivered.

You wheezed and resumed your pursuit of getting your ass off the wretched ground, to which you failed. Rick noticed the cuts and bruises decorating your injured body and his face softened. He sighed, gathering your belongings, and then in one swift motion he lifted you up off your feet, holding you bridal-style. You bit your lip to stop the tears forming in your eyes; your plan backfired, you got caught, and now everything was out of your control. You felt so stupid and useless.

Rick shifted around with you in his arms, taking one last glance at your injured figure. “Oh, honey. Let’s get ya cleaned up now.”

He had carried you all the way to his room without any hindrances, and the whole time you honestly thought about kicking out of his tight grasp, nailing him where the sun doesn't shine, and booking it out of there. But the way his strong arms cradled you made you melt into him.

Rick lay you onto his large – well, larger than your own – neatly made bed and pulled your shoes and socks off. Before he could reach your pant zipper to pull them down and examine your knee, you slapped his hand away, scowling at him.

“I can do it,” you promised, although of course your trembling hands reaching for the zipper illustrated a paradoxical story.

Not to mention, the stained blood and soreness reminded you that you needed to ease up on any further use of them. It felt like carpal tunnel. Damn, that concrete did some numbers on you. Your exasperated grunts caught Rick’s attention and he ignored your misleading comment, zipping your pants down and peeling them off himself. The look you gave him could have been detected as either annoyed or demoralized. Either way, your body was weary and your mind still raced with unrelenting thoughts. 

Rick brought back a wet cloth and a first aid kit he kept under his sink. Gingerly, he brushed the cloth over your battered hands and then bandaged them up. You let out a few pained huffs while he went to work on your scraped hands and busted knee with his doctor abilities. When finished, his eyes scanned your body, being certain he didn’t miss any other wounds or minor cuts.

You, however, were busy ogling him; his beautifully sculpted figure that was outlined by the black t-shirt he wore, and the scruff that layered his defined jaw, and the way his pink lips pursed as his rough hand prodded your exposed flesh – it sent you into a trance. 

He adjusted his gaze back to your face, and you snapped out of your trance promptly, painting that stern cast back on your expressive face. You recalled why you were irritated with him in the first place – he prevented you from escaping.

“Y’alright now? Gonna tell me why you were scurrying around past midnight with this bag on you?”

Your hard stare didn’t falter. He tsked at you and grabbed the backpack off the ground, unzipping it, and dumping its contents onto the bed. When he recognized the gun to be one from the armory, it was his turn to scowl at you.

“You better start talking before I get angry, sweetheart.” His body flexed as he folded his arms across his chest, eyes cornering you and making you feel small.

“I was–” you cleared your throat and sat up with your hands on your bare thighs, “I was going to escape, Rick. I… I need to see him…”

Rick lowered his head to the floor in disappointment, rubbing the bridge of his nose while his other arm rested on his hip. He paced the room. “You knew this was going to happen. We even planned it together, for fuck’s sake!” You pleaded with him, emotion spilling from your lips. You stared at his back, watching the way his muscles tensed. “I have a child I haven’t seen in years and I–”

“Yeah, so do I!” He interrupted, “But that life is over, there is no more escape plan pipe dream. Don’t you get it?!”

His pacing ceased, and he waited for your focus to meet him. When it did, he inched toward you daringly, almost wanting you to test his patience.

“I got you that ranking because I trusted you and expected you to be cooperative with me in this mission. I was planning on trying to convince Beale to let you visit your boy but that won’t be for a while. I need your trust in this,” Rick’s footsteps approached the bed, his towering figure intimidating you. “Do you understand? Look at me—” his rough hand pinched the sides of your chin to tilt your head up at him. 

Your lips cracked open to speak but truthfully nothing could be said in that moment. The tension in the air was heavy and laced with despondency. You choked trying to enunciate words as you felt your shoulders drop, and your heart chugging on. Soon you gathered yourself from breaking down in front of him, masking the persistent commotion going on inside the walls of your skull, and the unabated sense of dread pouring over your body. You nodded your head in compliance and Rick released your chin.

This was a confirmation that Rick was never going to let you get away. And if he did end up finding a way for you to see your boy, living under an unlawful and controlling military organization was not something you stood for. With or without Rick, you needed to escape with your son, using any proper chance that swung your way. But if it was going to be without Rick, you needed to be secretive. 

You batted your eyes at him, aiming to give him a reason to believe that you were officially yielding to him. The way you looked under him, all battered and desperate, made a spark ignite in his brain. You belonged in this position – underneath him, following his lead, and obeying his orders. He was going to need to show you how insistent he really was.

Your attention remained undivided. Rick stepped backwards a foot and took in the sight of you – your whole body and the way your thighs begged to be kissed and touched.

“I’m assuming you saw the note I left you, right?” His tone dripping with vehemence and his southern drawl rasping, relaying a yearning to your eager core, which you attempted to ease by clenching your thighs. He certainly did not miss that.

“So you were planning on not only ignoring my note, but being reckless and trying to leave this post and then, what? Risk getting caught and dying and never getting to see your son ever? You need to get your head on right, and I’m telling you this from experience, because it’s never going to work out the way you want it to, no matter how perfectly you think your plan will go.”

You gulped and studied your hands, which were thankfully stinging much less. You fiddled with the bandage, until Rick demanded your attention with his authoritative tone.

“This is the last time I’m gonna ask you to cooperate with me. Keep that in mind,” he warned.

Your front teeth bit into your pouty bottom lip as you struggled to make yourself look uncritical of his “plan.” Rick’s eyes targeted your every move as you, this time successfully, propped yourself up and off the bed, bending down to grab your pants which were sprawled out next to your feet. 

💋

“What were you gonna talk to me about, y’know….if I ended up showing up earlier?” You flipped the pant legs so that they were no longer inside out.

“I was gonna do this—” Your heart quickened as he neared you rapidly, his arms finding themselves exploring your body and causing goosebumps to multiply across your vulnerable skin. He dexterously greeted his lips to yours, catching you by surprise. The man was quick with it. 

You melted into the kiss while his hands continued to trace your curves, eliciting longing whimpers from your throat. You craved his touch.

Breaking away from the kiss, the Sergeant gave you no time to protest, spinning you around so that your back was facing him. Taking your jaw prisoner in the tight clutch of his hand, his hot breath fanned against your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck come alive. “Originally I was going to fuck you gently, make you relax from your big day—” His hand slid to the middle of your back and he forcefully bent you over on the bed, scoring a small grunt from you. He took your pulled back hair into his hand and with a tantalizing tug of it, he pushed his clothed hips against your bare ass. “But now I’m not gonna be so easy on you, because you decided to go and put yourself in danger. Well, I’m gonna have to punish you instead of reporting you, hm? For your own sake…” 

Your heat practically leaked through your panties and down the inner part of your thighs. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you loved when he was rough with you. It stirred you up with the perfect concoction of salaciousness and angst.

Still, your alacrity temporarily repressed your aroused state and you barked back at him, “All I want is to see my son…you have no goddamn right to take that from me, Rick,” you cried, with your trembling hands supporting your upper body as he gripped your hips.

Rick delivered a firm slap to your ass cheek, then promptly straightened you up and turned you around to meet his sifting stare. You gulped, feeling submissive under his touch. You watched the way he contorted his face in vexation and you abruptly felt overpowered by him.

“In case you’ve forgotten you are under my command, and if you disobey me I have every right to correct you where I see fit,” he eyed your pout, huffing, “and I fucking told you already – you have to be patient, it’s gonna take a while.”

The hope you had was dwindling slowly, even though you really wanted to trust him. It almost felt like putting your full trust in him was equivalent to playing with fire. You couldn’t tell the difference between the two anymore. But ultimately Rick was right, you were under his command and the very least you could do at this moment was take his word.

His leer intensified. “Get on your knees.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and felt the command jolt through your body with a cogent nudge. You conformed to his request and scrunched your face in slight discomfort from your bruised knee making contact with the floor, but it was still tolerable. With urgency he unbuckled his belt and wasted no time in freeing his thick, throbbing length. The sight of his cock was not something foreign, as you’d slept with him many times; but the way he was so much more ambitious in getting his cock inside your mouth and feeling you gag around him, made you squirm.

The restless man bucked his hips forward, enjoying the way your soft pouty lips hugged his shaft so magnificently. You moaned softly, the vibration inciting a groan from Rick as he grabbed at your hair. “Gotta do more than tha’. I know you know how to be a good slut f’me.”

You took his whole length in your throat, feeling spit drip down your chin as you choked. You started to bob your head back and forth, becoming accustomed to the size of his dick and how it collided with the back of your throat incessantly. He took it upon himself to grasp your head and guide you up and down as his hips pushed against your needy mouth. Your tongue traced the veins that protruded across his length, as your head quickened its pace. His grunts echoed in your ears and you prepared for his sweet release when you apperceived the twitch of his cock against your tongue. 

“Fuck, yes…good slut,” Rick sung out as he thrusted thrice more, shooting his thick warm seed down your throat and riding out the remainder of his orgasm. He pulled out and stared intently at your lips licking up the remnants of his juices while panting. His hand patted your head in approval.

“You think you deserve to cum tonight?” He taunted, his hold on your hair taut.

You didn’t respond, but instead observed the way his muscles flexed when he lifted his shirt off his back, and how he flattened his hair back with the palm of his hand. You were getting wetter by the second, shifting your thighs in anticipation.

You stood up, tracing your hand over his bicep and fluttering your lashes at him enticingly. He smirked, recognizing that look to be your calling for him to fuck your brains out. Your hands reached down to lift your own shirt off, but he swatted them away in protest, throwing the shirt across the room hastily. All you desired was for him to make love to you, to comfort you and promise you that everything was going to work out, and frankly your sore muscles from training could use as much appreciation as they could obtain. But love-making wasn’t on the agenda for tonight.

Rick flopped you onto the bed, and effortlessly your panties were torn off and thrown next to your shirt. He kneaded your tits with his hand then bent over top of you to hungrily kiss your lips. Your fidgety hands stretched up to tussle through his hair but he broke from the kiss to pin both your hands above your head, rousing a dissatisfied whimper from you. The carnal man bent down diligently to grab his belt and release your hands for a moment, before grabbing your wrists and securing the belt around them.

Bondage wasn’t necessarily unfamiliar to you but you had never expected Rick to ever want to partake in it with you. Nonetheless, your core ached further for his touch. His hand went back to pinching your sensitive nipples, while keeping his ferocious eyes locked onto yours, and lowering his head down to your throbbing heat. The lewd mewls escaping your parted lips sent Rick into a frenzy. You bucked your hips up in an attempt to get him to do something, to give your desperate parts the treatment you longed for, except he just remained concentrated on the way you jerked and crumbled beneath him – he wasn’t even touching you anymore, and yet he had you folding already. How pathetic you looked.

“Rick, please do something!” Your pleas left him unphased. The only thought in his mind at that moment was how rough he was eventually going to fuck you. 

Finally, his finger swiped up your soaking folds and came into contact with your swollen clit, giving it a soft pinch, stimulating a ribald whimper from you and inducing your back to arch off the bed. “What d’you want, sweetheart?” His husky tone intimidated you.

“Need you, please. ‘M lonely,” You sniffed, overworked from all the teasing. He cooed in a mocking manner, and with two fingers he plunged into you, sending you into the clouds. 

“This sweet pussy needs attention, dun’it?” He curled his fingers upward, activating that sweet spot inside your squelching sex. With his thumb he circled around your sensitive bud, accelerating the speed of his thick fingers inside your tight, wet hole. Bliss clouded over you, and your head lulled to the side.

Rick hissed, dissenting your lack of eye contact. He yanked his fingers out all the way, giving a slight tap to your voracious cunt.

“Nuh-uh, eyes on me.” The glazed-over look you gave him was enough for him to give in and slide his digits back into your heat, this time being merciless by the way he finger fucked you with racking momentum. 

Your walls clenched rhythmically around his fingers, legs syncing with the rhythm of your swirling hips. Rick sensed your orgasm approaching – he ascertained that you didn't get to reach its peak by ceasing his thumb's labor and plucking his drenched digits out of your weeping center.

Your sensual clamors didn't go unnoticed; instead he hushed you, and bringing his mouth near your ear he rasped, "I decided that you don't get to cum yet. Not till I feel like it."

Rick really loved tossing you around, especially tonight. He arose, untying the belt around your wrists – almost as if he was showing mercy, but that thought was surpassed as he effortlessly flipped you around so your bandaged hands were gripping desperately onto the sheets, as if that'd prevent you from losing your grip on reality from what was about to go down.

Your begging hole cried for his further attention, causing you to become more agitated by the second. That is, until you felt his hard cock slap against your ass cheek, and his hips striking the back of your shaking thighs. The grumpy commander pressed his leather-sling gloved fist slightly against your upper neck, just enough pressure to ensure you stayed where he wanted you. You didn't plan on leaving, though – not until he fucked you to your heart's content.

He could take a picture right now, the way your ass pushed against his solid member so hysterically, as if your pussy lived to be stuffed by his cock. In that moment, it did. Rick grabbed his cock and lined it up with your welcoming entrance, collecting the condensation on his tip.

"God, just fuck me–"

One rigid thrust was all it took for you to fully engulf him. Your eyes rolled to the ceiling, stars eclipsing your vision while his thrust followed another one, this time much deeper.

Your whines bounced off the pale room's walls, alerting Rick, who hushed you with a growl, "Shutch'er mouth, the whole building's gonna hear ya."

A third thrust ensued, with the sound of his pelvic bone smacking against your backside and the echoing of your sodden cunt being governed by his greedy shaft. The wet squishy insides of your walls hugged Rick so magnetically, he almost gave in right there.

His pace picked up with each ram of his hips, and his assault to your clit. Your grip on the sheets tightened, bandages likely slipping off but that wasn't a concern. Shy whimpers were trapped inside your mouth as you gave it your all at keeping your lewd blubbers and cusses at bay. Your soft, muffled cries continued as he pounded into you strenuously and tirelessly.

"You're not gonna try to leave again, not ever." The thumping of his hips on your ass and him fucking you into the mattress was all too much for your brain. "I won't fucking let you."

You felt fuzzy. The dauntless rebel attitude you once had vanished, and now your were a blubbering hot mess under a relentless leader. His bulging biceps flexed as his leather arm continued pushing on your neck, the other hand groping your hip and then going back to flicking your clit as his cock rutted into your core. He fit you like a puzzle piece.

Your walls were pulsating and you sensed your climax approaching quickly. "Oh, fuck, Rick!"

"Don't you even think about it. So help me god, if you do..."

Rick's demands only filled you closer to the brim with pleasure, and you weren't assured how much longer you could hold it. His thrusts became sloppier and sloppier, indicating that he was probably close too.

"Mmmph–" You focused on grasping desperately at the sheets again, trying to fixate on the way the soft fabric felt against your hands and your face which was pushed into the bed.

Rick groaned out, whispering filthy affirmations as his pounding became more jagged and his grunts more urgent. "Wanna fill ya up, but you don'need another baby, not yet."

One last press against your clit and the band finally snapped, your juices releasing all over his cock, and his orgasm causing him to grasp your hips roughly as he used your dripping hole to help him ride out his own orgasm. He pulled out, releasing onto your back with a few strokes of his slippery member.

The bottom half of your body gave in finally, collapsing and being suffocated by the plush mattress. Your eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open. He truly fucked the energy out of you.

"You gonna try that shit again with me?"

With half-lidded eyes you simpered and muttered, "Not without you."

[heeverseblog]

this time

synopsis: you confessed to jake sim in your senior year of high school but got rejected. now you’re a single mom in need of a math tutor to help your daughter pass math class. you happen to stumble upon jake’s profile and end up hiring him.

pairing: math tutor!jake x single mom!reader

genre: childhood acquaintances to lovers, single parent au, fluff, little bit of angst but happy ending

warnings: unrequited love (only at the beginning), mentions of early pregnancy, abandonment, fear of being in a relationship, one suggestive scene, short argument about career

word count: 11,359 words

note: THIS WHOLE STORY IS RUSHED AND NOT HEAVILY PROOFREAD, SORRY :((((

the first day you saw jake sim was at your school’s library. you were reading “anne of green gables” while he was reading a physics textbook. a freakin’ physics textbook. who reads a physics textbook at eight years old? apparently, jake sim does.

he looked so invested in reading formulas and his glasses were thick black-framed ones. you thought it was cute when he was sticking his tongue out as he was reading probably some formulas and terms. you forgot about gilbert blythe because that day, jake sim became number one in your “the cutest boys i’ve ever seen” list.

word was sent out that you had a huge, massive crush on jake sim. who wouldn’t know when you shout his name every time he passes by your way? you’d give him love notes saying how cute he looked with his glasses and how he has the cutest smile. every cringey, embarrassing thing a girl can do and call her crush just for him to notice her. yes, you’ve done it all.

when you became a teenager, you think that what you feel towards jake is more than just a crush. the longer you got to know him, the more you got to see how kind he was. when everyone was having a hard time understanding math, he’d write on the blackboard formulas and explaining when and where to use them. when a kid fell on his bike, he cleaned the wound and carried him to the school clinic, even when he was tired and sweaty from soccer practice.

one time, you were bored at math class. so you doodled the soccer field from your window. then your math teacher slams his hands on your table and proceeds to humiliate you on your artistic dreams. your colored pencils were confiscated and as shallow as it may be, you felt like a part of you was taken away after being humiliated.

while it was lunch time, jake came out of your classroom going with his friends, sunghoon and jay. you were still sad about what happened a while ago. when you sat down, you were surprised when you colored pencils were placed under your desk. you remember jake coming out of the classroom. you smile, realizing that you liked jake sim.

every girl fell on line in talking to jake sim. but you always made sure you were first. rumors spread that jake had a crush on the transfer student, kazuha. the rumors were confirmed when he asked her to the school dance. they danced that night but nothing bloomed. you noticed jake looked a little sulky the following week. and you thought that simply making him laugh like making funny faces or giving him cookies will make him feel better. and he did. jake was never mean to you. he still treats you kindly like everyone else. and you were fine with that. but you wanted to step your game.

a few weeks left and you will be graduating high school. so you wanted to confess to jake properly. you drew a banner with your confession, “jake sim, will you accept me?” you remember setting up the art room with lights. your art teacher was kind enough to allow you, knowing that you were her favorite student.

“jake sim, i’ve liked you since the day you were reading that textbook in the library. i’ve always liked you and it took me years to properly confess how I truly feel . so… you held out the flowers to him, “will you accept me?”

you felt like crying saying your confession. but you didn’t care. you gave him the peonies from your mother’s flower shop. when you thought will reach for the flowers, he held hands and slowly pulled them down. your face went down along with your hands.

“y/n, i appreciate what you have done…but,” jake looked down at the floor, “i don’t like you like that.”

you’d be lying to yourself when you say you’re not hurt. you tried your best not to blink or else the tears will come out of your eyes.

“oh. um…thank you for being honest.” you gave him a forced smile, feeling your eyes well up. on cue, the school bell rings, signaling it’s time for all students to get out of the building.

“i’ll see you tomorrow?”

jake nods, “see you tomorrow.”

you gave him a pat in the back before turning of the lights then ran out of the art room. you let the tears run down your face as the petals from the peonies fell, leaving a trail on the floor.

after a week, you received your high school diploma and off you to college you go. you and your friends took pictures together and you thought that it would be nice to walk around your school for one last time. from the classrooms, to the playgrounds, to the soccer fields. then you took one last glance at the art room, recalling the day you experienced your first heartbreak.

when you went back to your parents, they gave you a tight hug before giving you a bouquet. then you catch a glimpse of jake with his family. like yours, his parents were proud of him for finishing top of his class. your heart might have swelled a little but before you could feel it more, your dad said he’d take you and your mom out to dinner.

jake sim might not like you back but you were sure that he will be a good memory you can look back to.

“i’m sorry, mom.” your seven-year-old daughter tells you as both of you walked out of her classroom. apparently, she wasn’t the best at math class and her homeroom teacher was beginning to worry. but who were you to be disappointed when you were never the best at math either.

you kneel down, holding your daughter’s shoulders, “aera, we’re going to hire someone to help you, alright?”

aera pouts while nodding her head. you held her cheek, “sweetie, it’ll be alright. hm?” your daughter slowly nods her head then both of you went home.

you’re in an app searching for math tutors that look friendly but will help your daughter excel in class. it’s been an hour and you still haven’t found the right one.

“mommy, what’s for dinner?” aera says as she colors in her coloring book.

“we’re having spaghetti tonight, sweetie.” aera just nods her head and goes back to coloring. when you returned your attention to your phone, a familiar name popped up.

sim jaeyun: part-time physics teacher, part-time math tutor

sim jaeyun or known as jake sim when you were just a girl living in a small town. he was the boy you’ve had a huge crush on ever since you were eight years old. because of your silly crush on him, you confessed to him a week before your high school graduation. but he didn’t like you that way.

admit it or not, jake is a strong candidate. aside from attending the same school as kids, jake was best in math and physics and had a good reputation for being a math wizard.

unconsciously, you tapped the hello! are you available for a meet-up? option.

“shit!” you stand up from the couch.

“mom, that’s a bad word,” aera says while coloring her coloring book at the dinning table.

“you’re right, sweetie. mommy is sorry.” you say and kneeled to reach your daughter’s height. you smile, thinking that your daughter takes after you in her interest in drawing and coloring. she’d always ask you for coloring books, sometimes crayons if her old ones kept breaking. then one time you gave her the 64 crayons that you’ve always wanted as a kid.

“mommy, look!” aera colored the tiger pink.

“that’s wonderful, baby!” aera goes back into coloring while you prepare your dinner.

while you were cooking your spaghetti, your phone beeps and you received a message.

hello there! may i know who i’ll be tutoring?

you reply, it’s my seven-year-old daughter. she needs help in math.

jake: oh i see. may i know who i am speaking with?

you take a deep breath and typed your full name.

jake: y/n? did we go to the same school together?

y/n: yup! same school since 2nd grade to high school.

jake: oh wow! how are you doing?

y/n: i’m doing well right now.

jake: that’s good to hear!

jake: about your daughter, where exactly does she need help in math?

y/n: if it’s not too much to ask, she needs help in everything.

jake: oh no problem! are you available to meet-up?

y/n: sure! will send you the details soon.

jake: great! looking forward to meeting you.

y/n: looking forward to meeting you too.

“oh no!”

you immediately put your phone down and got the pot away from the stove with smoke coming out of it.

you told jake to meet you at this café that is somewhat near where you lived and where jake is residing. it’s been long since you last saw jake and your last encounter with him was at the art room with a banner and lights where you confessed. then he rejected you.

you were holding tight on your cup of coffee. after you told jake where you were seated, you were expecting to meet him anytime soon. and that thought made you more nervous.

“y/n?”

your organs did somersaults when you hear his familiar voice. and when you turn around, you were also greeted with a familiar face.

“j-jake. hi.”

jake still wore glasses. difference is that they were no longer thick black-framed ones but specs. aside from that, he did not change much. he still looked as gentle like before.

“sorry to keep you waiting. one of my students needed help.”

“no worries. please, take a seat.”

jake sits at the seat across you. he places his bag on the floor then he returns his gaze at you.

“sorry i didn’t order anything for you yet. i didn’t know what you liked.”

“it’s okay. so, your daughter needs help?”

“yeah, aera, she…she has trouble understanding problem-solving equations. has a hard time memorizing the multiplication table too, apparently.”

some part of you felt awkward that your daughter got her weakness in math from you. and jake knew that.

“do you have any worksheets from her class?”

“oh, yes,” you bring out the sheets if paper from your bag and gave it to jake. he reviews the papers and you felt déjà vu, remembering the day you first saw him in the library while reading a physics textbook.

“i see the problem here. she mixes the formulas and interchanges them.”

“is she…does she need extreme hands on help?”

“i can’t say yet but if i tutor her soon, i'll let you know the progress.”

“thank you…” you pause, not knowing to call him mr. sim, teacher sim, or just by his name.

“sorry,” you let out an awkward laugh, “i just don’t know how to address you?”

“jake is fine. i mean we went to the same school.”

“okay. thank you, jake.”

“thank you, too. y/n.” then jake gets his bag.

“you’re leaving?”

“yeah, i have to do some tasks first. but let me know when i can tutor her.”

“sure thing. see you soon?”

jake nods, “see you soon.” then he leaves the café.

you and jake agreed that he will tutor aera from 2 pm to 5 pm every thursday and friday. at first, aera is shy to meet a new person but you assured her that her new tutor is a friend of yours. and she promised that she will behave.

the doorbell rang and as you expected, jake was outside.

“hi.”

“hi. i hope i’m not too early.”

“oh, no. you came just in time. come on in.”

when you let jake in your unit, you told him to wait by the living room while you call aera by her bedroom.

“sweetie, your tutor is here. come and say hi.”

when aera came out of her room, her shyness aent away.

“aera, this is jake. he’s going to tutor you at math. say hi, sweetie.”

“hello!” aera waves to jake to which he found adorable and softly giggles.

“it’s nice to meet you, aera.”

“mommy says you’re her friend. i call aunt yujin and aunt gaeul aunties because they’re mommy’s friends. can i call you uncle jake?”

“aera…”

“uncle jake sounds nice.” jake said with a smile on his face.

“do you want us to start, aera?” jake asks and aera nods before pulling jake to the dining table.

before jake and aera started their tutor session, you asked permission from jake if you can stay by your room with the door open. and he was kind enough to understand that you were careful with aera.

surprisingly, jake and aera got along well. aera had a hard time understanding the formulas and comprehending problems but jake was very patient with her. you always knew that jake would be a great teacher but you never knew that day will actually come true.

“okay, so when you add 4 and 7, you’ll be transferring the other one here, to 6. so it becomes 7. then you add 7 and 2. and what’s the answer?”

“91?”

“good job, aera!” then jake did a high five to aera before circling the worksheet with his red pen.

“uncle jake, can you be my math teacher instead? you’re nicer than mrs. im.”

“did you know that mrs. im was also my math teacher. your mom and i were her students.”

“it means that she’s old! no wonder why she’s so grumpy.”

“aera, what did we say about bad mouthing people?” you say from the kitchen as you start preparing your dinner.

“it’s not going to make us different from them.”

“that’s right.”

jake softly laughed at your statement, “okay, aera. that’s all for today. if you still need help next time, we can always go back. but try studying on your own too, okay?”

“okay, uncle jake!”

jake starts packing his things then you and aera see him out.

“uncle jake, thank you for teaching me today. you’re so nice and i had fun.”

“you’re welcome, aera.”

aera looks up at you, “mommy, say thank you, too.”

you rub aera’s shoulders, “yes, ma’am,” then faced jake, “thank you for helping aera today. really.”

“you’re welcome,” jake looks down at aera, “i’ll see you tomorrow, okay kiddo?”

“see you tomorrow, uncle jake!” aera waves and jake gives her a smile before he leaves.

months have passed since jake tutored aera. the process wasn’t easy at first since aera is really having a hard time understanding math. but as jake promised, he updated you that aera is still in need of help to improve. and you were grateful that he was patient with her, despite being exhausted from being a teacher at school.

most days, aera was excited for her tutoring sessions. she even boasts how she has a good tutor and jake’s her favorite teacher slash uncle. and you have to admit, it was cute.

today, you were busy finishing an illustration for a children’s book. most of the time, you sell your works online or have clients contact you for commissions. it wasn’t a stable job but you had to earn for you and your daughter. and thank god, your clients paid you well.

in the middle of working, you received a message from yujin, saying that there will be a class reunion at the town hall two months from now. you didn’t know if you’ll be able to go but you might if your friends are going.

yujin: so how’s the tutoring going on?

y/n: it’s going pretty well, actually. jake is really patient with aera and he always make sure that she understands what he’s teaching her

gaeul: you know…it’s not too late to re-live high schaer

y/n: eh???

yujin: she means to shoot your shot

y/n: very funny guys -_-

y/n: jake is just tutoring aera and he’s just doing his job

gaeul: 👀

yujin: if you say so 🤪

y/n: gotta get ready. i’ll be picking up aera in a bit and jake will be arriving after.

yujin: ooooh y/n is getting ready for her date.

y/n: OH PLEASE 😡

you roll your eyes before locking your phone and turning off your tablet.

when you were done getting dressed, the doorbell rang and when you opened it, you were surprised to see jake.

“hi, jake. i was just about to pick-up aera from school.”

jake scrunches his forehead then looks at his watch, “oh,” he lets out a laugh, “my class ended early and i might have thought i was late. i can come back later.”

“oh no, please. do you want to come with me and pick-up aera? she’ll be glad to see you.”

“sure.”

“great. let’s go.”

during the car ride, you and jake didn’t say a word. it was either you were busy watching the road or avoiding talking to him.

“so how have you been?”

“hm?”

“i mostly see you during tutoring sessions but we never really…'talked.’”

“oh, uh…well today was fine. i’m currently doing an illustration for a children’s book. not halfway done but I’m making progress. you?” you liked to jake before immediately returning your attention to the road.

“one of my students said that physics was useless and why do we need to study how fast a frisbee can travel.”

you try holding your laugh but jake caught you so you retort, “sorry it’s just that a kinda remember myself. and well, i couldn’t help my daughter in her math homework.”

it was silent again and all you could hear was the tires and the car engine.

“for what’s worth, aera is a good kid.”

you smile at jake’s comment and looked at him for a while, “thanks.”

“we’re here.”

“it’s been a while since i saw this place.”

you spot aera waiting at the waiting area and when she sees your car, she stands up and waits for you. and when you and jake got out of the car, she immediately runs to jake, hugging his leg.

“uncle jake, you’re here!”

jake giggles, “it’s good to see you too, kiddo.” then he rubs aera’s head like usual.

“don’t i get a hug?”

“mommy!” aera opens her arms and then you carry her. she gives you a kiss.

“let’s go home?” you asks and aera nods.

the three of you went to the car. aera was still happy that jake was with you to pick her up.

“uncle jake, can you come and pick me up next time?”

“aera, uncle jake has classes to teach. you can still see each other during tutoring sessions.”

aera pouts at what you said. jake looks back, “how about i bring you ice cream next week?”

aera smiles, “yes, please!”

“you might spoil her with too much sweets.” you nag.

“can it be mint chocolate, please?”

jake’s eyes grew wide then he looks at you and back at aera, “you really are your mother’s daughter.”

“hey mint chocolate deserves to be respected,” you defend.

“not when it tastes like toothbrush.”

“that’s mean!” you and aera say in unison.

throughout the whole ride, three of you were still bickering about mint chocolate being the superior ice cream flavor. you never thought that someone could actually get along with you and your daughter’s antics. and you liked it.

“i’m sorry for the overtime, jake. but don’t worry, i’ll increase today’s payment session.”

exams were coming and aera needed help in studying. you felt bad that you had to ask jake to stay for a while but you promised him that he’ll be compensated more than his usual pay.

“it’s alright. besides, aera needed help.”

“why don’t you stay for dinner? you might be hungry.”

“oh, no. i couldn’t.”

“no, really. it’s the least i can do for thanking you.”

“if you insist then,” jake places his bag down the chair, “dinner would be great.”

and dinner was going great. aera told jake herself that jake was her favorite teacher. and jake felt honored. aera kept telling stories of her school life and how she made friends. then aera tells how

“you know, your uncle jake helped everyone in math before. he’s a math wizard.”

“uncle jake, did you help mom math too?”

“i did. she got the 4th highest grade in our math exam.”

“and of course, your uncle jake got the highest grade.”

jake does this hand gesture where he says “oh please.”

“is my mom hard to teach?”

you and jake laughed, “well…let’s say you’re a fast learner than your mother.”

“mommy, i’m better at you in math!”

“i can’t believe you two are teaming up against me,” then you pretend to get shot at the heart and jake and aera laughed at your antics.

after dinner was done, aera became sleepy. she promised that she’ll finish her homework tomorrow. you let her sleep early because she looked exhausted.

“goodnight, uncle jake.” aera says then yawns.

“goodnight, kiddo. you did well today.” jake kneels down and aera hugs jake. you were surprised but jake returned the hug, the sight melted your heart.

“okay, sweetie. uncle jake has to go home and sleep too.” aera pulls away from the hug and then you tell her to get her clothes and take a shower.

“bye, uncle jake.” aera says before getting inside the bathroom.

when it was just you and jake alone, you looked into each other and laughed.

“aera will be sleeping well tonight.”

“yeah, looks like it.”

“hey,” you pause for a while, “thank you. for helping aera. she hasn’t been this happy for a while.”

“thank you for letting me stay.” for some reason, your heart fluttered, “for dinner.”

“oh,” then you let out a chuckle, “you’re welcome.”

you and jake let out another chuckle. and it might seem cringey but you didn’t care. because right now—this felt right. you looking to his eyes, and him doing the same. almost like you didn’t want him to leave.

“i, uh…” jake coughs, “i should probably go.”

“oh. yeah…right. drive safely.”

jake nods before he opens the door, saying goodbye before leaving.

when you closed the door, you let out a breath you realized you haven’t been holding. you’ve replayed how jake looked at you just a while ago. and every time you remembered his face, your heart would beat fast. when you remember him being a good friend to aera, you couldn’t help but melt at his gentleness towards your daughter.

“mommy?” aera walks out of the bathroom with a towel on her shoulders, “are you sick?”

“huh? oh. no, no sweetie.”

“your face is red.”

“it’s just hot sweetie. let’s tuck you to bed, okay?”

after tucking aera to bed, it was your turn to get ready for bed. and when you thought you’ll be able to sleep peacefully, days of jake bonding with your daughter flashed in your mind again. he hated mint chocolate but when he promised to bring a tub of it, he ate it with you and aera. he finished a cup of it and didn’t think of spitting it out or drinking water to cleanse his tongue. one time, when you gave him a glass of water, your fingers touched and you immediately pulled away.

you kept tossing and turning all night. it was like you were your old self, gushing over jake in the smallest things. though this time, you had a daughter. and jake treats her so well that you couldn’t help but smile and melt.

and you wore that smile until you slept peacefully at night.

lately, you’ve been having headaches while feeling muscle pains. when you took a temperature test, it showed that you had fever. you immediately called yujin, saying you needed help to take care of aera. you couldn’t ask your parents help because they have a store to take of at home. besides, you didn’t want them to take a bus all the way here to the city. you were just thankful that yujin was happy to babysit aera while you we sick and you said that you were fine with being alone for now. you told jake about your sickness and aera’s tutoring sessions will be cancelled for now. he hopes for you to get better soon.

“remember to listen to aunt yujin, alright?”

“mhm!”

“and you don’t keep her waiting when she comes to fetch you.”

“yes, mommy!”

“don’t forget to finish your homework, alright? especially math.”

“yes, mommy!” you smile at your daughter then shift your attention to yujin, “thank you for doing this.”

“aera and i will have a good time, don’t worry,” yujin soothes aera’s head.

“i’m going to miss you, sweetie.” sadly, you couldn’t kiss aera goodbye.

“i’m going to miss you too, mommy!”

“okay sweetie, you’re going be late for school.”

aera and yujin say their goodbyes and you were left alone in your home. you lied down on your bed, with a glass of water beside you. you wrapped yourself in your blanket, hoping that it’ll stop you from shivering.

hours have passed and what you’ve been doing is eating, cleaning the used dishes, drinking medicine, and sleeping. you couldn’t wait to get better but you still felt sick and weak.

you were covered in your blanket when your doorbell rang. you wondered if it was yujin but she must be at home this hour, watching over aera.

you wore your mask before getting the door. when you opened it, you were surprised to see jake holding a stainless-steel lunchbox.

“oh, jake. hi.”

“i, uh…i made us some dinner. i made you soup.” jake raises the lunchbox, “i just thought you needed something to warm you up.”

you couldn’t help but melt at jake’s words. he really has this talent of turning small things into something big. and it made your heart flutter.

“come on in.” you opened the door for jake and let him in like always.

“i’ll just get us some plates.” then jake holds your shoulder, “i’ll do it. you can lie down and rest.”

you nod, “okay.” you were about to enter your room but you turn around, “plates and bowls are in the upper right cabinet.”

“got it.”

“and the spoons—” then jake shows you that he found the utensils on the other side of the cabinet.

“i’ll…” you point to your room and jake assures you that he’s got it covered.

you never let anyone in your home aside from your friends and parents. yujin and gaeul have always been pestering you to go on blind dates but you never did. letting someone else in your life was making you a little doubtful. but you were glad that jake is someone you knew and looks trustworthy.

“hey,” jake enters with a tray of the food he brought. you sit up then jake places the tray in front of you.

“what’s tonight’s main course?”

“well, we have ramyeon with ham, boiled eggs, and green onions.”

“sounds delicious.”

“here,” jake scoops some soup and gently blows it before bringing the spoon close to your mouth. you take the soup in your mouth and you smile, “that’s good soup. give my compliments to the chef.”

jake softly laughs, “will do.”

and jake proceeds to feed you the noodles and other toppings. you felt shy every time you couldn’t take the food in your mouth, especially if they were noodles. but jake didn’t judged you. when you were almost done, you drank the remaining soup left.

“you good?”

you nod, “mhm! thanks for the food. how about you?”

“i already ate, don’t worry.” you nod then you drank your medicine.

“um…jake?”

“yeah?”

“thank you for coming over.”

jake smiles, “you’re welcome. you can sleep if you want to.”

“hm? aren’t you…don’t you need to go home and do other things?”

“if it’s alright with you…could i stay for a while? i just figured that you need someone to take care of you right now.”

you couldn’t find the right words to say. jake sim, your highschool classmate, childhood crush, your daughter’s math tutor—is willing to nurse you.

“are you sure?”

“if it’s alright with you. because,” jake slowly brings his hand to your forehead. when you realized what he wanted to do, you leaned forward, letting his hand touch your forehead.

“you’re still burning up.”

the thought of jake sim touching your forehead still causes you to become speechless. when he lets go, you pretended to not be bothered at all.

“are you sure you’ll be okay? i’m a heavy sleeper.”

“i don’t mind. sleep all you want.”

jake takes the tray and helps you fix your pillow, tucking you inside your blanket.

“goodnight, y/n.”

you smile, “goodnight, jake.”

jake was by your side until the day you got better. he cooked you food and let you rest. you felt guilty that he had to nurse you but he wanted to do it wholeheartedly. and your heart fluttered.

you confessed to aera that her uncle jake has been taking care of you while she was away. she was jealous at first because she wanted to take care of you. but you explained to her that you didn’t want to get her sick. she came to her senses and thanked jake that he took care of you. yujin, though, was protective at first but she proceeded to tease you about it.

though lately you’ve realized, your attraction on jake sim was coming back. but this time, you were starting to see him in a different light. he has always been selfless, kind, and gentle but him showing those actions to your daughter made you like him more. but of course, you couldn’t tell him directly how you felt. things were different now that you’re a mom and he’s your daughter’s math tutor.

you’d rather hide your feelings than accept a rejectin. you’ll be reminded that things that come into your life are temporary.

today, you were going to take aera out to a museum for kids. why? because she got a high score in her math exam. while you were sick, aera managed to study on her own and remember the lessons she had with jake. you called jake and told him the news and he felt so proud of her.

“mommy, can uncle jake come with us?”

“i don’t know, sweetie. but i’ll call uncle jake first, okay?” aera nods her head vigorously.

jake’s phone continued ringing and you waited for him to pick-up the call.

“hello, y/n?”

“hey, jake.”

“hi, uncle jake!” aera says and you hear jake laugh.

“aera says hi.”

“well, what’s up?”

“oh…you see, i’m taking aera out today. and we were wondering—i mean she was wondering if…if you wanted to come with us.”

you shake your head, feeling anxious if jake caught you. but that worry disappeared when jake replies, “sure, i mean i’d love to.” and he sounded full of glee.

“g-great! we’ll pick you up then?”

“oh, no. i’ll pick you guys up.”

“oh. but—”

“no, really. i want to pick you guys up.”

“oh,” again, jake’s doing the smallest things can become big. “okay, we’ll be ready by then.”

“okay. see you later.

“see you later.”

never in a long time has jake sim thought that he’ll be meeting y/n again. not in a million years has he also expected to meet y/n’s daughter.

jake sim was just having a regular day: teaching physics at school, checking their papers, and create lesson plans. he goes home, continues checking papers, finishes his lesson plan, and reads more textbooks whether it be math or physics. finally, he washes up, does a little bit of social media, then goes to bed.

jake was used to getting compliments of him being a math genius. many expected him to be a scholar, a professor, an engineer, or a physicist. but it wasn’t that easy. believe it or not, jake sim couldn’t seem to know where he can fit in. he was the golden boy from high school but after he graduated, he became lost and unsure. but he did know he loved math and physics alongside ramyeon noodles.

jake sim does his daily routine when suddenly, he receives a message. he puts his papers down and checks his phone.

hello! are you available for a meet-up?

then he replies, hello there! may i know who i’ll be tutoring?

the sender didn’t reply. he thought that it was the usual ones who reply after an hour or two so he goes back to checking his papers.

after a while, the sender replied.

it’s my seven-year-old daughter. she needs help in math.

jake returns his attention to his phone.

jake: oh i see. may i know who i am speaking with?

the sender sends a familiar name. then jake remembers a girl he frequently heard in school.

jake: y/n? did we go to the same school together?

y/n: yup! same school since 2nd grade to high school.

jake felt like catching up with an old friend. he might have not known you that much but he knew your reputation of being one of his admirers and that you were full of spirit with a good personality. though he did remember you causing some trouble but you weren’t the bad student type. in fact, he remembers you giving him compliments on sticky notes.

jake: great! looking forward to meeting you.

y/n: looking forward to meeting you too.

fast forward to the day jake was going to meet you. it was only a casual meet-up about agreements and how he’ll help your daughter pass math class. he noticed that you seemed worried about your kid but he assured you that he’ll try his best to help her.

and when he met her, he couldn’t help but soften up. meeting aera was like a breath of fresh air to his regular students. aera was willing to listen and learn on her lessons. she was very sweet and fun to be with. her spirit reminded him of yours when you were younger.

“uncle jake, i drew this picture for you.” aera gives him a drawing of him, reading books on the table with a blackboard behind him that had math equations.

“you really drew this?” jake asks amazed at your daughter’s drawing skills.

“mhm! because you’re my favorite teacher and i like you.”

jake couldn’t help but smile at aera. the kid was too cute and sweet to do such a thing. he heard you walking from the kitchen, and you had some biscuits placed inside a bowl.

“for the both of you.”

“thank you, mommy.”

jake notices how aera says “thank you” whether it be small or big actions. he liked that about a kid. but then again, he notices that you do the same. and he can’t help but think that you really are a good  mother.

ever since jake met you and aera, his routine might have become longer than before. but he didn’t mind one bit. not when he can get to help you and aera.

jake’s first reaction of you getting sick was that he got worried. the thought of you sick in bed, alone in your home almost made him loose his mind at class.

“i just figured that you need someone to take care of you right now.”

he knew that you got stressed and tired from taking care of aera. he couldn’t imagine how you managed to get through it in seven years. and he wanted to take care of you.

jake might have had had encounters with women but they weren’t any serious. in his defense, he only went on dates so that sunghoon can stop pestering him.

his bond with you and aera’s was different. the only connection you and jake had was that you both went to the same school. now, you don’t have any status aside from the fact that he’s a math tutor. but he liked it when you ask them how they’re doing and give you snacks. something about your smile and warmth makes him feel comfortable and excited at the same time.

right now, he felt happy feeling that you’re letting him be part of your mother and daughter time.

“uncle jake, have you ever been to a museum?”

“i have. your mother and i went to one in a field trip.”

“mommy says that we’re going to a museum filled with drawings.”

“that sounds fun. you excited?”

“mhm! and it’s more exciting because you’re here.”

jake looks at you, smiling at the interaction. throughout the whole ride, he’s been noticing that you’ve been smiling and giggling the whole ride. and he couldn’t help but gush over it.

the moment the three of you came into the museum, aera couldn’t help but become excited. you let aera be happy and excited but not too much or she’ll break some displays.

you took a picture of aera at the interactive displays. jake took pictures of you and aera, you doing vise versa when aera wanted a picture with him. then aera says that she wanted to have a picture with the three of you. when jake looked at the picture, he couldn’t help but think the three of you looked like a family.

“uncle jake, look! you look like my daddy.”

aera’s words affected both of you. jake has always noticed that your bond with you and aera has changed. but he never noticed that it was beyond that. until now.

“sweetie, let’s go to the mannequins, hm?”

“okay!”

then you carry aera and the two of you happily walk to the mannequins. aera was giggling at how the living mannequin gave her a flower.

suddenly, jake saw you carrying a baby in a living room. then aera comes running to you, and you show her the baby. “here’s your little sister, you say.” then you look at jake, “honey.” aera calls him, “daddy!” then runs to his direction.

“jake!”

he blinks when you called him.

“let’s go?”

“uh, y-yeah. i’ll be right there.”

you had a great time day today. aera was happy to spend her day with you guys and you were happy that she’s happy. jake’s company also made you feel happy. you thought that today’s trip would only be you and aera but with jake, it became a memorable one that you’ll never forget.

aera was sleeping peacefully at the back. you and jake were still awake but both of you were tired.

“she had fun, didn’t she?” jake asks, his eyes focusing on the road.

“she certainly did.

“who knew that she can run so fast?”

“one time, i had to chase her for thirty minutes in a playground. couldn’t catch up with her.”

“she reminds me of you. when we were eight.”

“oh please. anyone can barely put up with my energy.”

“it’s one of the best things about you.”

once again, jake sim made your heart flutter. when the car stops, jake looks at you and you avoid his gaze.

you let out a soft laugh, “yeah. i might have passed it down too much. you might have a hard time catching up with us.”

“i don’t mind. i can catch up just fine.”

then the light turns green and jake starts driving again. you were clutching your hand to your chest. your heart was beating fast that you could barely breathe. you hoped that your heart will have mercy until you got home.

minutes later, you arrived at your home. jake said he can carry aera all the way up to your unit.

you opened the door to aera’s room and jake slowly lies her down. you stand by the doorway and watch jake tuck her in and rub aera’s forehead before he leaves the room. both of you take one last glance at aera before you closed the door.

“thank you for tucking her in. and driving us home.”

“you’re welcome.”

just like the other night, you and jake were standing by the door, staring at each other. both of you didn’t say anything but give each other a look. you recognized that look because you had that look from when you were young and when you met jake again. some part of you felt scared. you never let anyone else in your life, after being left with a baby to raise on your own. but that other part was telling you that you felt happy and excited by letting someone in your life again. when all he showed you was you were worth taking care of.

“jake, i—”

jake didn’t let you finish when his lips landed on yours. his mouth molded perfectly in yours and you couldn’t help but kiss back. jake grabs your nape and the action made you sharply inhale. both of you kissed faster and tried catching each other’s lips. realizing that you’re standing in front if your daughter’s door, you pull away.

“she might hear us.” you whisper and before jake could say anything, you pulled him to your room.

when both of you got inside, you lean at the door and jake kisses you again. this time, you pulled him down by wrapping your arms around his neck. you tried catching your breaths before diving back into each other’s lips. jake slides his hand down to your waist and you let out a whimper. he took that signal as a sign to take off his coat and pull you with him.

you ended up being on top of jake and both if you giggled. you took off your jacket and before you knew it, jake was on top of you. he goes back to kissing you and holding your waist, as you held the sides of his face. jake’s lips left yours as he brushes it to your cheeks, down to your jaw, then down to your neck.

you let out a sigh, feeling euphoria. his touch was gentle and you yearned for it. you pull jake closer and he continues his magic. he slides his hands up then behind your back. you pull jake up and kissed again. he slows his movements this time, getting the rhythm that you wanted.

then realization hit you. this feeling was familiar and the thought was scaring you. the last time you felt this kind of attraction, that person was temporary in your life. you knew that jake was too. eventually, you and jake will part ways when his task is done.

“jake…” you say when you pull away. but jake doesn’t hear you and latches his lips on your neck again.

“wait. jake, stop.”

then jake finally hears you and his eyes looked worried.

“did i hurt you?”

“no. no, no. i…”

you couldn’t look at him in the eye. when you stood up, you brushed your hair back and looked at anywhere else.

“is everything okay?”

“i’m sorry. i don’t…”

you covered your face out if embarrassment, along with fear.

“y/n?” jake holds your arm. his touch made you slowly uncover your face.

“are you okay?”

“i’m…i’m scared.”

jake looks at you with his soft eyes. he places his hand on your cheek and you can feel the tears falling from your eyes.

“oh, no. don’t cry.”

but you did. you let yourself be pulled by jake’s embrace. jake calms you down by rubbing your back.

“everything is going to be alright. i'm here.”

for the first time, you’re actually believing those words.

after crying and staying silent for hours, you finally had the courage to tell jake your sturggles.

“I met this guy in college. he was a year older than me but we took the same class.

“we went on a few dates before we became official. we had a plan. we graduate, gets jobs, get married, and eventually start a family.

“getting drunk at the graduation party was not part of it. getting pregnant after the party—not at all.”

jake continues to hold your hand as both of you lie down on your bed. he let you rest your head on his shoulder as you tell your story. jake sympathized with you, waiting for you to finish what you wanted to say.

“i told him but he said he was sticking to his plan. so he’s completely out of the picture and i raised aera on my own.

“ever since then, i was so scared of letting anyone in my life again. it scares me.

“i’m sorry.”

jake puts his hand on your cheek and you face him.

“don’t be. you’re allowed to feel what you feel.”

you give jake a smile, still feeling your eyes swell. but you were thankful that jake was very understanding.

“thank you for listening.”

“thank you for telling me.”

jake soothes your back and you didn’t notice that you fell asleep in his arms.

after that night, you and jake exchanged “hi’s” awkwardly. but you tried your best not to show aera or let it affect you and jake’s agreement.

weeks passed, you and jake grew out of your awkward phase and became more comfortable eith each other. but he never forced you to start anything with him. he continued being a great father-figure to aera.

you can say that what you had was unlabeled but a part of you knows that you were starting to fall in love with jake. but you were afraid to tell him.

you were just washing the dishes after jake and aera finished their cakes. then aera’s question made you stop.

“uncle jake, if i get a high grade in math, does that mean you won’t be going here anymore?”

“of course not, kiddo. why would you think that?”

“because after i get a high grade, you won’t be teaching me anymore.”

“well, yes…because you already know how to do math. but…” at this point, you were looking at jake then he continues, “it doesn’t mean i'll stop visiting you.”

“really?”

“really.”

then aera hugs jake and he hugged her back.

“if you ace the final exam, we’ll eat mint chocolate ice cream together.” then jake looks at you.

“okay!”

aera did her best and jake was beyond proud of her. you were too. you were proud for the both of them. seeing jake with aera, you thought that he can be more than a father-figure. you knew that both of them have a special bond that is more than a tutor and student.

the next days, jake was starting to stay at home longer. he was so familiar with the place that he remembers where you keep your plates and utensils. one time, the three of you played monopoly and you didn’t remember how long you played because the three of you were having fun. jake declared himself as the winner even though there is no real winner in monopoly.

some nights, you and jake would tuck aera together and she liked it. she never complained about having a father but with jake becoming part of your lives, it was like a dream come true for her.

“i don’t know if me hanging out longer looks like i'm invading your home.”

“i don’t mind. besides, we like having you around.”

you and jake were alone in the living room. drinking a glass of wine while having late night conversations.

“do you maybe…want us to go out sometime? just the two of us.”

“yeah. i’d love that.”

“great. it’s a date then.”

you were surprised but you liked it.

“yes, jake. it’s a date.”

you lean on the couch with the glass on your right hand. jake leans in the couch too, looking at you softly.

“it’s weird though.”

“what is?”

“that i never got to see how amazing you are. you’re not just the girl who causes trouble or teachers dislike for drawing in class.”

“to be fair, i never realized how good you are with kids. it’s making me hard not to fall for you.”

you didn’t know if it was the alcohol. but you suddenly confessing your feelings for jake sim was somehow déjà vu.

“i’ll, uh,” you put down your glass, “i’ll make us some coffee.”

you stand up and was about to go to the kitchen when jake pulls you around and kisses you. you kissed him back, tasting the red sine you just drank. jake holds your cheek and you lean forward, holding his waist.

when you pull away, your eyes were still closed but you can feel jake’s breath on your lips.

“i love you.”

you open your eyes and jake was smiling at you. His cheeks were red. might be from the wine or from the proximity and confession he just said.

 “i’m not drunk am i?”

jake smirks, “i don’t think so.” then kisses you again, and you pull him closer.

“thank you for accepting me.” you whisper at his lips.

“no. thank you for accepting me.”

who would’ve thought that a bottle of red wine was all you needed for the perfect confession. but for now, you needed to make two cups of coffee so you and jake can have a proper conversation.

when you told aera the news, you told her that you loved jake like how anne loves gilbert and that jake loves you the same. then aera follows, “but didn’t you already know?” and you were caught off guard.

nevertheless, aera liked the idea of you and jake being together. you haven’t told her about how you met jake. but one day you will so that she’ll know that the right person will come along in time.

just as jake promised you, both of you will be going on a date together. you asked where you’ll be going but he said it was a surprise.

so you dressed up wearing a denim dress that you thought you’ll never use. you wore the necklace your mother gave you when you graduated high school. it felt weird when you asked aera if you looked okay. but she says that you look beautiful as ever. both yujin and gaeul wanted to babysit her this time. but you also knew that they wanted to see you finally having your date with jake sim. but they were hapoy for you that you finally found someone.

“you really don’t want to tell me where we’re going?”

“not a chance.”

you roll your eyes but you knew that jake was trying to give you a date you can remember.

minutes later, the scenery changed into a lake. the water was shining and the grass was turning to a yellow green color thanks to the sunlight. your jaw dropped at the scenery. it was like an actual painting.

when jake stopped the car, he immediately got out and opened the door for you.

“i wanted to find a place only for us.”

“how did you find this place?”

“had a little help from sunghoon and jay.”

“oh how are those two anyway?”

“they’re doing well, actually. jay is engaged and sunghoon is in denial that he’s crushing on his workmate.

you laugh, remembering sunghoon for his schemes and playboy antics. you remember him teasing jake about a girl he liked in high school.

“you okay?”

“hm?”

“you look grumpy.”

“oh.” you shake your head and grab the picnic basket from jake, “come on!”

the whole picnic, you and jake did some catching up. you told him that your parents are still residing in your hometown and your mom’s flower shop is still om business. your dad retired long ago and he just stays at home. jake’s parents were in australia and they were professors in two different universities.

“i suddenly remembered something. weren’t you supposed to move back to australia after high school?”

jake looks down at your figure, “you trying to get rid of me?” then you give jake a “really?” look and he laughs. you sit up and looked at him, placing your palm on his chest. jake was looking up at the sky, thinking deep.

“it was planned, yes. honestly, i was happy to be back home for a while but…something was telling me that i had to be somewhere else.

“i told my parents that i wanted to go back here. they were hesitant at first but i told them to trust me.”

“and did you find what you were looking for?”

“i did,” then he looks at you, “and i realized that i made the right choice to come home.”

“welcome home, jake.” you leaned down and intended to give him a quick kiss but he leans his face forward, trapping your lips.

“that wasn’t fair.”

“i love you too.”

you laugh but gave jake quick pecks and kept saying “I love you’s” in between. you were afraid of being too affectionate but you couldn’t help but show them when jake showers you a lot of it.

jake giggles like a kid then he hovers over you and it was his turn to attack you with kisses.

then both of you ate the sandwiches he made then watched the sunset together. and it was better than any romance movie you watched.

you and jake didn’t really care if you wanted to go public with your relationship. but now that both of you are driving back to your home town for the reunion, you couldn’t help but be nervous. everyone in high school knew your reputation especially that jake was involved. they don’t even know that you’re a single mom of a seven-year-old girl. and now, you’re dating the boy you had a crush on.

your friends won’t be coming because they had to babysit aera. you were hesitant at first to go but you promised jake that you’ll come with him. also, he really wanted to introduce you as his girlfriend to his friends.

“you ready?” jake unbuckles his seatbelt and then he notices you tensing up.

“you okay, baby?”

“what? oh. y-yeah. maybe not?”

“i’ll be with you the whole time,” jake places his hand on yours, “okay?”

you gulp then nod, “okay.”

jake unbuckles your seatbelt, “let’s go.”

when you and jake entered the hall, everyone was in their tables, probably chatting about their careers and relationships. they were all familiar faces. chaewon, the former class president, was chatting with your former homeroom teacher, mrs. bang. somi, one of jake’s admirers was with a date. ej was with his friend nicholas. those two were hard to separate.

“jake, my man!”

you and jake turn around and see jay approaching you. he and jake gave a brotherly hug. then out of no where, sunghoon barges in and headlocks jake.

“dude!”

“sim jaeyun is here!”

and apparently it caught everyone’s attention and they began whispering when they saw you with the famous “02z of daebom high.”

“so…jake.” sunghoon eyes you then back to jake, raising his eyebrows up and down.

“sunghoon, jay, you remember y/n, don’t you?” jake places his hand around your waist.

“how could we forget when she always screams in the hallways 'jake sim jjan!’ or ‘jakey, the sun can’t shine without your existence in the world!’”

“oh please, don’t.” your face becomes red from embarrassment.

“but y/n, i have to say, it’s about time jake did something more than spend his time on paperwork.”

the four of you chatted for a while before finding a table for the four of you. being in the same table with the three flower boys was your high school dream. it felt weird that it came true after many years but in different circumstances.

“baby, want something to eat?”

“not that hungry, thank you.”

“how about some appetizers?”

“meatballs with cheese would be nice though.”

“i’ll be right back,” jake eyes his friends, “be nice.”

“yes, sir!” sunghoon and jay do a salute before jake leaves you with them.

“y/n, tell me. has jake been giving you headaches?”

“no, actually, he’s been helping me a lot. he’d drop by and help tutor my daughter. then we’d have movie nights until we tuck aera to sleep. we go and do the most mundane dates but with him…he makes it so special.”

then you noticed jay and sunghoon just looking at you in awe.

“you really love him, don’t you?”

you nod, “i do. very much.”

“he may not be telling you this but, ever since he met you, his boring, ordinary life became vibrant and full of joy. i’ve never seen him that happy since.”

jay’s words made you feel accepted. he has always had a way with words but it was the first time you actually heard it.

“thanks, jay.”

“y/n, in case he does do something stupid, just give him a smack in the head and he’ll come around.”

“will try to remember that, sunghoon.”

“meatballs for my lady,” jake places the plate in front of you. jay and sunghoon were about to get some when jake slaps their hands.

“go get your own.”

jay was about to slap jake’s shoulder when mrs. bang starts to speak.

“class of 20xx, i’d like to start this reunion by saying, welcome home.”

everyone claps and you follow. your homeroom teacher continues by saying that there will be a program performed by somi and her friends. like before, she’s always had charisma when performing on stage.

there was games. pocky games were always the best. jay and sunghoon did it by vote. everyone cheered when the pocky stick became small in very bite. both of them didn’t want to loose but they didn’t want to touch each other’s lips either so jay took the fall.

there were some awardings too. the life of the party: sunghoon. shy prince: ej. math wizard: your jake. you got the artist award.

the event was still on-going but you and jake left early. you wanted jake to formally meet your parents.

on the drive going there, you felt nervous but you didn’t want to let jake know. as for jake, you can sense that he’s nervous because he was biting his tongue while looking at his feet.

“baby,” you call jake and when he turns around, “you cup his face.”

“they’re going to love you.”

this time, you’re assuring jake. you felt nervous too but you love jake and you know that he’s a good man that your parents will love.

you and jake waited for someone to answer the door. and when it opened, your mom answers it.

“hi, mom. dad.”

“y/n? who’s this?”

“this is jake. he’s my boyfriend.”

and your parents ended up loving jake. they remember him when you mentioned you went to daebom high together. suddenly, they told jake stories about you gushing over jake. you figured that you had quite the reputation here in town.

“oh jake, you should’ve seen y/n write your name at the back of her notebook with hearts.”

“mom!” you cover your face but your parents kept teasing you.

“jake, y/n might seem the free spirit type but she’s someone who has a big heart.”

“yes, sir. and i'll take care of her and aera.”

your dad kept offering jake some alcohol but you kept reminding him that both of you need to drive home. but a twist of events lead to jake becoming wasted and your parents saying that both of you should spend the night here.

“mom, i have to see aera.”

“y/n, you’re tired and jake is drunk. now, i don’t want both of you getting into an accident.”

you sigh, “yes, mom.”

you carried jake to your old room and lie him on his back. he kept calling your name but you just laughed, finding him cute with his red face.

“baby, i need to take off your shirt. okay?”

jake pouts and covers his chest, “my girlfriend will get mad at me.”

“jake, it’s me.”

jake slowly opens his eyes, “oHhh y/n!”

just like that, jake was fast asleep. you slowly lifted him so he can sit up. when he was sitting on the head board, you gently unbuttoned his shirt. you were thankful that he was wearing a white shirt inside. after that, you positioned him facing the side with a pillow under his head.

“talk about ‘i’ll take care of her.’”

you laugh softly but you lightly jake’s head. he looked really cute. sleeping like a baby.

“y/n…” jake says  slurring in his sleep.

“you and aera,” he lets out a hiccup, “are the best thing,” another hiccup, “that’s ever happened to me.”

for so long, you were so scared that when you let someone in your life, they’d leave you. for a while, you thought that you were content that it was just you and your daughter against the world. but eventually, this man right here, drunk and sleep talking is going to be a good father to aera. this man right here is the one you want to spend the rest if your life with.

you’ve been dating for a while now and he has been dropping by your place almost every day. so you asked him to move in with you. it wasn’t anything new except that jake doesn’t have to drive before he gets to see you and aera.

and when you slept at the same bed for the first time, it was a little awkward. but like before, both of you adjusted and got used to it.

you and jake would cuddle before you go to bed. he’d be the big spoon, whether you were facing behind him or you were lying on his chest.

“you know, i should’ve asked you sooner.”

“be grateful that i said yes in a heartbeat.”

“oh, thank you, sir jake.” you teasingly thank him like he was a knight.

the rest of the night, you’d have tickle fights until both of you will snuggle until you sleep.

but like any other relationship, there were always misunderstandings and conflicts.

“jake, all i'm saying is that we don’t have enough money to buy a new place.”

“y/n, i have enough to get us one.”

“didn’t it come across your mind that we should be buying it together?”

“well if maybe your job was—”

“what, jake? if i were a teacher, earning a monthly salary like you?”

“y/n, that’s not what i meant.”

but you walked out before he could finish. you didn’t talk to jake for the rest of the night. jake waa in the living room while you stayed in your bedroom. you were thankful that aera was oblivious to the situation.

after an hour, jake went inside your room and you were facing behind him.

“y/n…”

you didn’t say anything.

“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that.”

“you think?”

“i just thought that if we get a new place, we’d finally settle in a home as a family. but truth is, wherever you are…you are my home.”

you finally turn around, but all you could do was stare at jake as he waits for you to say something.

“did you say family?”

‘yeah. i did.”

you didn’t think before hugging jake. he hugs you back, burying his face on your neck.

you and jake agreed that when the time is right, you’ll get a new place and everything else will fall into place.

you’ve been thinking for a while about what jake said. you did consider moving to a new place but your savings weren’t enough. but you also wanted to start a new life with jake in it.

so you decided to find a full-time job as an art teacher for elementary students. hoping that you’ll have enough income for your family’s future. and no, you didn’t force yourself. you choice this because it’s for the ones you love.

“ms. y/n, am i doing a okay?”

“you’re doing great, jungwon!” you give your student a big smile.

“niki you’re doing great too!”

you never fail to compliment your students. you might not have the best audiences when you were young. but you didn’t want to crush children’s dreams when they remind you of how you were.

“okay, kids. don’t forget that your homework is due tomorrow.”

you were thankful that your class was the last one. you were in the middle of fixing your things when someone knocked at the door.

“hey.”

“hey. your class is done?”

“yeah. well, i clocked out early.”

oh, right. jake finally became a full-time math teacher. both of you work at the same school. he thought that he should be helping you so you can get a new place. besides, it’s a great opportunity for him to go home with you and aera.

“are you not feeling well?” you stand up and held jake’s forehead but he shakes his head.

“actually, we are going out for a while.”

your eyes grew wide, “where are we going?”

“i’ll tell you when we get there.”

“jake.”

“it’s going to be fun,” you raised your brow at jake then he says, “i promise.”

next thing you knew, you and jake were in the car taking the route to  your hometown. the next surprising thing is when he parked in front of your old school.

“what are we doing here?”

jake just gives you a smile before getting out of the car. he opens the door for you, kneeling down.

“come with me.”

it might seem weird that jake always makes your heart flutter for the bare minimum but heck, this is jake sim we’re talking about.

both if you were walking down the hallways of the school. it felt weird walking in the same place where you called jake’s name to get his attention. now, you’re holding each other’s hand.

“don’t worry, the teachers know that we’re visiting.”

“any reason why we’re visiting?”

“when we reach the end of the hall, you’ll know.”

so you and jake continue walking. both of you stop then jake holds your hand.

“for this part, i'm going to need you to close your eyes.”

you were hesitant at first but you did what jake asked. he was holding your hand the whole time you walked with your eyes closed. then he stopped.

“wait a minute.”

jake’s lets go if your hand.

“you can open them now.”

you were greeted with lights behind jake. the banner with the sign, “will you accept me?” then you realized that this is how you confessed to jake in high school. and you’re in the same room.

jake was holding a bouquet with pink, white, and red roses with baby’s breath. and he had a ring on his other hand.

“y/n, i never would’ve thought that my boring, plain, life would be so colorful, vibrant, and joyful. you and aera…i couldn’t imagine how my life would turn out if you weren’t in my life. you let me become part of your life, and i want to spend my remaining days with you and our family.”

“so,” jake kneels down in front of you. the action caught your breath away.

“will you accept me?”

you gave yourself a minute to process what was happening. and when you did, you finally say…

“jake, i appreciate what you have done but…

“it would be a shame if i don’t say yes.”

you laugh and you let your tears fall on your face.

“yes, yes, yes.”

 jake stands up and finally gives you a tight hug. you bury your face in his chest.

jake kisses your head and whispers, “i love you.”

you lift your head up, “i love you.”

the last time you fell in love, things might not have gone the way you wanted them to. you doubted a lot of things and distanced yourself. then you met a man who proved to you that you deserve a second chance.

this time, you were sure that it will be different and will be the best thing that has ever happened to you.

***

epilogue

[mountttmase]

Are We Okay?

Note - happy Saturday 🩷 I’ve been meaning to post this for the longest time so I hope you love it 😌 this one it set around the fa cup semi final in the 21/22 season (I miss my chelsea) so it’s a bit of a throw back. As always feedback is appreciated so let me know what you thought 😘

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 7.9k

Warnings - angst and fluff

Seven years.

Seven years you’d known Mason. Meeting by chance in his hometown when your parents had randomly bumped into each other. You didn’t know who he was or how your dad knew his dad but you were captured by the brown eyed boy from the second he smiled at you.

Turns out your parents were friends at school and hadn’t seen each other for over 20 years meaning they had a lot to catch up on. Tony, Masons dad, invited you all round to his the next week for a bbq so they could catch up and meet the rest of his family. A tradition both of your families kept up for the years to come making sure to meet up at least three times a year.

He seemed a little shy at first, but then again so we’re you and it wasn’t until all the adults were drunk he finally came over and sat with you. You had some things in common, both liking the same music and tv shows so when he asked for your number so he could send you a few songs you felt your body heat up all over at his suggestion.

Mason was a boy. Not just a boy but a very attractive boy and very attractive boys didn’t seem to want anything to do with you. 17 and you’d never had a boyfriend or been kissed let alone anything else. You knew Mason was out of your league though and even though you liked to imagine what it would be like to kiss him, you knew you never would.

This was only made even more clear when he got a girlfriend, Sienna, eight months into your new found friendship with him. Even though you were happy for him on the outside, you were disappointed and hurt that he’d fallen for someone else so quickly when you’d know him for longer. You wanted to be there for him though, always giving him tips on what girls like so he knew how to treat her.

You thought your relationship might have suffered when he went on loan abroad for a year but he always kept in contact, even inviting you out for a week when you had some time off so the pair of you could spend some time with each other. He seemed so happy and carefree and your relationship seemed to change from there. You grew a lot closer, he confided in you and told you things you knew he hadn’t told anyone, including Sienna. The pair of you were best friends and you were always there cheering him on.

When he came home and went on loan again, you were pleased to find out he was playing near where you were studying meaning you got to see him as much as you liked. Spending your weekends at his games and even eventually forming a close relationship with Sienna. Even though you found it hard, seeing Mason happy that ‘his girls’ were friends made it easier for you to get along with her.

This meant lots of double dates, whether that be other boys from Masons team, other friends of his or Sienna’s and whilst it was embarrassing and awkward it was nice to have a boy’s attention for once. Mason seemed to have a problem with all of them however Sienna was always pushing you get out there and meet new people so when you started hanging out with one of her friends a few times after the double date she was over the moon for you. Nothing came of it but you were proud of yourself for getting out there.

You still had a year left of studying when returned to play for Chelsea and whilst you tried to see him as much as you could, it was an important year for you and you both knew you had to knuckle down. It was all worth it in the end though, and the pictures of you and Mason at your graduation was something you still treasured to this day.

When things between Mason and Sienna ended, you were in your new flat with your new roommate Grace. You hadn’t lived their long but he’d knocked on your door at around 10 in the evening and you opened your front door to find him looking back at you with glassy eyes and a frown. You took him to your room where he laid in your arms and told you she’d ended things because she thought they’d grown apart. He fell asleep in the crook of your neck as your fingers danced over his scalp and you smiled at the fact he’d come to you in his hour of need. The pair of you had never been in this position before, with Mason being in a relationship pretty much the whole time you’d known him so when you woke up to him looking at you softly your heart gave a thud.

‘Sorry about last night, I just didn’t want to go home alone’

‘You don’t need to apologise, Mase’ you whispered as he reached out to hold your hand. ‘I’m glad you came here. You know I’ll always be here for you’

‘I’m so glad I’ve got you’ he told you, kissing your forehead gently as he tucked you into him. You were blushing furiously at his words and you wanted to tell him you felt the same but you knew your voice wasn’t strong enough.

As the years progressed and Mason gained popularity you saw him change right before you eyes. They were small and subtle changes at first but by the time he’d reached his 24th birthday it was like he was a whole new person. Gone was the polite and slightly shy boy you’d always known, instead a bold and self assured man now stood in front of you. Somehow he’d grown even more gorgeous but the fact that he knew it made him insufferable sometimes. Thankfully for you there were no more girlfriends on the scene but you knew he slept with other girls which made your heart hurt even though you knew you didn’t have a right to feel that way about it. The pair of you were still close, keeping in touch often but you didn’t see him as much as you’d of liked to but this just made the times you did see each other more special.

You tried putting yourself out there, eventually growing close to someone at work who was a few years older than you. He was your first everything and even though you’d always imagined having those with Mason you knew you had to let that dream go. You thought you finally had it all figured out but when he asked you to move in with him and you panicked he decided to end things as he thought you weren’t serious about him. To give him his credit, Mason was there for you, just as you had been for him, telling you he was never the one for you but thankfully you weren’t as heartbroken as you thought you would of been.

It was early March, and you were at Tony’s house for your family get together. This one being inside as it was still cold out but you hadn’t managed to talk to Mason all night. He was constantly on his phone and when everyone started heading to bed, you were shocked that he pulled you into the kitchen so you could talk privately.

‘A bunch of my old friends are out at that new club that’s just opened up, you wanna come with?’ He questioned and your first instinct was to say no. ‘Please come, I’ve barely spoken to you today’ he pouted and you huffed as you crossed your arms.

‘It’s not my fault you can’t take your face out of your phone for five minutes. And anyway I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion’ you told him, looking down at your old jeans and plain jumper. You looked dressed for the weekly shop rather than a night out but he wasn’t having it.

‘You look great, plus it’s dark in there so no one will see anyway’ he shrugged. ‘Please, y/n. We never do stuff like this. I promise we won’t be long, just a couple of hours’ he begged and it wasn’t long before you were agreeing to go with a roll of your eyes.

‘Fine, but I really can’t stay long, I’ve got a long drive home tomorrow’ you argued but he was already pushing you out the door.

The club was loud and dark as Mason had promised promised. The only good thing about both of those things is that he kept his hand in yours so you wouldn’t get lost and when he spoke to you his lips would be right near your ear in order to hear him.

You had one drink, sticking to water after that so you would be sober enough to drive home in a few hours but that didn’t stop Mason from trying to get you to join in with everyone else doing shots, rolling his eyes with a huff every time you declined. This wasn’t exactly your idea of fun, following Mason around like a lost dog since you didn’t know anyone else and when you checked your phone for a few moments you looked up to find he was gone.

His few hours were up and you searched around for him, eventually finding him at the bar with a curvy red head hanging off of his arm as he drunkenly whispered in her ear. You didn’t want to interrupt whatever was going on even though it stung to watch but you were desperate to get back so you could sleep so after a nervous gulp you made your way over to them, tapping Mason on the shoulder hard enough to get his attention. He looked at you with a sour expression before turning back to the girl and saying something to make her laugh before leading you outside to a quiet and empty smoking area.

‘We need to get going, Mase. It’s getting late we’ve been here for ages’

‘I’m not ready to go yet’ he slurred ‘Cant you just head back on your own?’

‘Seriously?’

‘Yeah? Can’t you see I’m talking to that girl, I can’t just go now’

‘So you’re choosing a girl you met barely five minutes ago over me? Nice Mason thanks for that’

‘Why the fuck does it bother you so much?’ He asked, brows furrowed as he became increasingly annoyed at you. ‘You jealous or something?’

‘W-what?’ You laughed, trying to play it off but every word that was coming out of his mouth seemed to hurt you more and more.

‘You try and act like your my girlfriend all the time and you’re not. Like where do you get off on trying to control me? Telling me where I’ve got to be all the time. Like I’d ever want to be with you anyway’ He uttered, eyes harsh even with all the alcohol swimming through him. You were too stunned to speak, not knowing where all this was coming from. You felt your eyes sting as he looked at you in anger and you didn’t know what to say. ‘What? Got nothing to say cause you know I’m right?’

‘I’m just trying to look out for you’

‘No you’re not, you’re just trying to keep me for yourself. I’m not yours y/n, and I never will be. I didn’t even want you here tonight I just knew how much a nag you’d be if I left you at home’ he sneered and you felt your eyes well up even further, dropping your eyes to the floor so he couldn’t see how upset you were. ‘Oh don’t turn the water works on to make me feel bad, it’s not gonna work. It’s pathetic y/n you need to move on’ he laughed bitterly, but you’d had enough of his attitude. You took one last look at him before making your way back inside and fighting your way out the front door.

He didn’t follow you and you held yourself together the whole way home in the cab, only allowing yourself to cry a little bit when you were finally in bed. You didn’t know what had come over him to say such horrible things to you, racking over your brain to think of any times you’ve been slightly overbearing but you couldn’t think of anything. An hour and a half after you were home you finally heard Mason walk through the door, heading straight to bed and not even coming to talk to you or see if you’d made it back safe which only made you more upset.

When the next morning came, you packed up early and made an excuse about there being an emergency at your flat so you could leave without seeing him. When Debbie said she’d wake him up so you could say goodbye you told her to leave him and that you’d call him later, not wanting to look at him right now as you made the lonely journey back home.

Grace knew something was up instantly. Having lived together for three years now you knew each other pretty well and she was quick to open her arms for you. You didn’t cry, but your eye’s watered a little bit causing you to bite your lip hard to hold everything in. You told her you weren’t ready to talk and she nodded, just letting you stay in her comforting embrace as you watched some tv and caught up on your missed sleep. When you went to bed that night you still hadn’t heard a peep from Mason, in fact you didn’t hear from him for three days until he eventually called you. You let it run until the call ended, thinking he would try and text you but to your surprise he left a voicemail that you listened to immediately, the sound of his voice making your tummy hurt as your eyes watered.

‘Hey, y/n. It’s me I uh… I just wanted to talk to you um could you call me back please? Thanks’

He sounded tired and upset but you were in no mood to speak to him right now, not after everything he’s said to you and considering he didn’t even try to apologise you didn’t call back, even resulting to switching your phone off when you went to bed as he kept calling you and you knew you’d cave and pick it up.

The next morning you were awoken to what sounded like a hushed argument outside your door before it swung open to reveal Mason, Grace looking at you with apologetic eyes but you knew she couldn’t do anything about it.

‘Sorry y/n. He just barged his way in, I couldn’t stop him’

‘It’s fine’ you smiled at her sympathetically as Mason made his way inside your room. She gave you a look as if to ask if you wanted her to stay but you shook your head before she gave one last look to Mason. He was too busy looking at you so he didn’t even notice and you gave her one last smile before she walked away, closing the door behind her.

‘What do you want, Mason?’

‘You haven’t spoken to me in days’

‘Oh, I wonder why that is’ you breathed sarcastically, sitting yourself down as far away from him as possible whilst he stared at you from across the room.

‘Well that’s the thing, I wasn’t exactly sure and I’ve been racking my brain trying to think about why’ he told you, but you just stared at him, hoping he wasn’t going to make you explain everything he’d said to you. ‘I was a dick to you, wasn’t I?’ He breathed and you dropped your eyes to the floor. ‘I’m so sorry, y/n. I don’t really remember what I said exactly but I remember being angry and you storming off. Whatever I said I didn’t mean it I promise’

‘Well you must of thought it at some point to say it so you did mean it’

‘I don’t even know what I said’ he argued, stepping towards you and kneeling down in front of you so he could try and catch your eyes. ‘Tell me what I said. Please? I wanna fix this’

You took a nervous gulp but kept your eyes down, not sure if you were strong enough to even repeat what he’d said to you and his hands on your thighs was only making things worse.

‘You basically told me to stop controlling you and acting like your girlfriend when I’m not and never will be’ you whispered, watching his brows furrow like he didn’t believe you. ‘You called me pathetic and told me to move on when all I wanted was just to head back cause we’d been there for hours and you told me to stop being jealous and go on my own’

‘I-I can’t… are you sure?’ He breathed and you looked at him with an annoyed expression.

‘Of course I’m sure, what do you think I’d just make that up?’ You asked, pushing his hands from you so he would realise how upset you were.

‘No of course not, but I’ve never once thought that about you. And I’d never let you go home alone you know that’

‘Well you did. You watched me leave and didn’t even check i’d got back alright so you could stay and impress whatever girl was hanging off of you’ you told him but he was looking back at you like he didn’t understand a word you were saying. ‘I get it okay? I’m not like the girls you want. I’m not enough for you and it’s fine’ you breathed and be looked like he wanted to argue with you but you didn’t want to let him speak. ‘I know you’ve only ever talked to me out of politeness cause our dads are friends but if you really think that about me I’d rather we just leave things’

‘No no, what are you saying?’ He panicked, standing up to tower over you. ‘That’s stupid, you know I don’t think that about you’

‘So now I’m stupid?’ You argued, standing up so you weren’t as little as he was making you feel.

‘Stop twisting my words’

‘I think you should go’

‘No I’m not leaving until we sort this out’

‘Why? You clearly don’t think that much about me so why so you care? Why am I not enough for you Mason? Just tell me’

‘Y/n stop, please’ he whimpered and you almost felt sorry for him, wanting to reach out and comfort him and tell him everything was fine but he’d really ticked you off this time. His voice was thick with emotion as he came towards you and you covered your face with you hands as you began to sob. Without a thought he held you to him and you hated the way you relaxed into his touch. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry’ he murmured into your hair through his tears and you were so close to breaking.

‘Mason?’ You breathed and you felt his pull back slightly, waiting for you to carry on. ‘Can you please go?’

‘Y/n-‘

‘Please, Mase’ you choked

‘Y/n please don’t do this, please’ he begged, his voice thick with tears but you were standing strong and not letting his emotions get to you.

‘I need some time. You’ve really hurt me and I can’t think with you around. Just please go’ you sobbed and without a word he pulled away dropping a small kiss on your forehead before slowly walked out of your room, shutting the door behind him. As soon as you heard the door click you broke down again, Grace silently coming in so she could wrap her arms around you to try and comfort you in anyway she could.

Mason didn’t try and contact you which you were great full for, giving you time to pull yourself together again over the coming days and weeks you could slowly feel yourself becoming normal again. After three weeks you even felt good enough to join Grace on a night out with some of her work friends. The next morning the pair of you were nursing your hangovers on the sofa when she gave you a funny look.

‘What?’ You questioned and she huffed before talking.

‘It’s Mason. He keeps messaging me about you and I wondered if you could talk to him?’

‘What’s he saying?’ You asked in confusion and she unlocked her phone to read through the messages.

‘Well it started off just asking how you were and checking in on you but you posted a story last night with Ed and he’s not stopped asking me about him since’

You took a gulp before unlocking your own phone, quickly flicking through your stories before you found the one she was on about. Ed was a friend Grace had known since uni and you’d met him a few times prior to last night so you were friendly with him. Hence why it didn’t feel weird at the time when his arms were around your waist, your back to his chest as you sung your hearts out into your camera. It was only when you watched it back that you saw how dangerously close his lips were to yours as he kept turning you slightly and you didn’t even remember him kissing your temple gently but it was all there for Mason to see.

‘What’s he said?’ You asked, locking your phone as you focused on Grace again, trying to forget what you’d just seen. She passed you her phone to see a barrage of messages from him asking who you were with and where you were so he could come and get you but thankfully Grace told him to leave things and that she’d try and get you to talk him tomorrow.

‘Can you please just have a word with him? I’m not saying you have to forgive him yet or whatever but you can’t ignore him forever’ she told you and you reluctantly nodded, knowing you’d have to have a word with him eventually.

You contemplated calling him but the thought of hearing his voice and then trying to string a coherent sentence together made you sweat so you carefully crafted a text in hopes he would understand where you were coming from. You kept it short and sweet, not really sure what you were wanting to say to him but you hoped it would make him listen.

You locked your phone after that, jumping in the shower so you could wash away the night before and you felt a lot lighter when you finally made it back to your room. You didn’t have the courage to see if he’d replied to you and spent the rest of your morning sat with Grace whilst you ate until you couldn’t handle not seeing if he’d replied.

‘Oh this letter came for you yesterday, I forgot to give it to you’ Grace mentioned, passing you over a thick white envelope and you had no idea what might be inside so you quickly opened it go find two tickets the the FA Cup semi final in two weeks time that you promised Mason you would go to. Your heart sunk as you saw the, not knowing if you were strong enough to be there for him even though you always promised you would be and Grace must of picked up on your disheartened expression.

‘Everything okay?’

‘Mason sorted me some tickets for the semi final in a few weeks’ you sighed and she gave you a sympathetic look. ‘I always promised I’d go to the big games and he really wants me there but I’m not sure if I can do it. We’re all supposed to go to his the next day for dinner too with his family and I just don’t know if I can’

‘Maybe just give it a bit, see how you feel nearer the time’

‘Will you come with me? To the game’ You asked her shyly and she nodded at you gently.

‘Of course, if you want to go then I’ll be there’

A day didn’t go by where you didn’t think about Mason, missing his presence in your life more and more as the days went on but you still couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him. The tickets he sent to you were a constant reminder every time you walked into your room and it didn’t stop there. You were never one for gifts but you couldn’t deny you adored the flowers he was sending to you every day. They were only small bunches but your flat was soon consumed by them and you felt awful every time Grace sneezed but you loved putting them out. Grace only agreed to keep them out when you started bribing her with the chocolate that he always sent with the bouquets as you couldn’t eat them all on your own.

Then when you you went to your favourite coffee shop you found out someone had paid for a months worth of coffee for you and it didn’t take long to work out who that was. He was clearly trying to get your attention but you weren’t ready to see him yet even though he was slowly breaking your resolve away.

You were still contemplating what to do about the game up until the night before when a text made your mind up for you.

‘Grace’ you called, walking into the kitchen to see her making herself a tea, eyes looking up at you out of curiosity. ‘Be ready for about half 11 tomorrow. And dress warm’ you told her, he face breaking out into a smile. ‘Do you think I’m doing the right thing?’

‘Doesn’t matter what I think. How do you feel?’

‘I always promised I’d be there and no matter what he’s said in the past I want to be a good friend. I know he’d do the same if it was the other way around plus it will look weird if I don’t go’

‘Well as long as you’re sure, I’ll be ready to go in the morning’

‘Thank you, Grace. I really do appreciate you’

‘That’s okay. Buy me a pint there and we’ll call it even’ she laughed and you couldn’t be more thankful for her.

You got there the next day in plenty of time, saying hello to his family who were none the wiser as to what was going on between you and Mason as you took your seats next to them. He was soon out for the warm up and you felt your heart swell at the sight of him, looking up to wave at his family and you could tell he was happy you were there. You couldn’t bring yourself to wave back at him though and you could see his pout from a mile off.

You had to admit he played really well and when he managed to put the ball in the back of the net you were out of your seat and cheering for him like there weren’t any issues between the pair of you. The smile on his face when he noticed you happy for him made your frosty heart melt a tiny bit and the urge to wrap him in a hug consumed you.

‘You coming into the family room with us to see him?’ Debbie asked you and you nodded albeit reluctantly knowing they’d only ask questions if you said you were in your way home.

‘We can just sit by the bar and make it look like we’ve spoken to him’ Grace reassured you as you walked in and you were happy she was with you as your moral support.

As soon as he came in you wanted to run into his arms and tell him how proud you were but you couldn’t, excusing yourself to go to the loo so you could gather yourself for if you needed to speak to him. You couldn’t see him at first when you eventually made your way back but it didn’t take long to see him stood talking to a girl. You rolled your eyes at his behaviour thinking it was typical of him to be doing that but you could tell from his posture something was up, your eyes glancing straight to her.

You could tell her type from a mile away, she only wanted Mason for one thing and you could see how uncomfortable he was as you got closer, knowing you might have to intervene if it came to it.

‘I um, I have a girlfriend’ you heard him tell her, clearly a lie just to get her to go away, knowing from the way he was stumbling over his words slightly that it wasn’t true but and she didn’t believe him either.

‘Oh yeah? Well where is she then?’

‘She’s around’ he murmured, eyes searching the room for anyone who might be able to help him and even though you still weren’t on speaking terms you couldn’t let him suffer like this, walking up behind him and placing your hands on his sides which caused him to jump slightly.

‘Hey baby, sorry I got caught talking to one of the girls’ you smiled sweetly at him, moving to his side where he automatically placed his arm around you when you snuck yours around his waist. He was stiff, clearly unsure of what was happening so you reached up to kiss his jaw in hopes he would cotton on.

‘That’s okay’ he smiled down at you, kissing your forehead as he pulled you closer. ‘This is my girlfriend, y/n’ he told the girl, smiling proudly and even though you knew it was all fake, hearing those words come out of his mouth made you shiver. The girl didn’t reply, just rolled her eyes and walked off and you took that as your cue to let go but as he felt you move he placed his other arm around you so you couldn’t go. ‘Wait please. Just until she’s gone’ he whispered so you stayed in his embrace, his familiar scent overwhelming you as his lips traced over you hairline.

You couldn’t see if she had gone yet, your face smooshed into his chest as you clung onto him and you knew he wasn’t going to tell you when the coast was clear. You looked up at him, his eyes on yours immediately and you felt your tummy drop.

‘Can we talk?’ He whispered, eyes filling with tears as he let his emotions get the better of him before tucking some hair behind your ear. ‘Please, y/n. I know I said I’d give you time but I can’t do this anymore’

He was right, this wasn’t healthy for the both of you to keep going on like this and no matter what came from it you knew it would be good to talk it out so you sent him a tiny nod to let him know you agreed.

‘I can come over to yours later maybe? I guess it’s best to talk before everyone is around tomorrow’ You whispered and he started nodding at you wildly.

‘Of course. I’ll text you when I’m home, yeah? You can come over whenever I’ll make sure everyone’s in bed’ he assured you before you pulled back. He let you go this time and you gave him a small nod before going back to join Grace.

‘You okay?’ She whispered as she took your hand and you smiled.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s just go’ you told her and you chanced a look back to Mason who was stood with his hopeful eyes on you, a small smile dressed on his face as he watched you go and you felt your tummy erupt with butterflies at the thought of talking to him later.

He didn’t message you until about 11:45 that evening, telling you he was sorry it was late but everyone had only just got to bed. Truth is you didn’t mind, you brain wouldn’t switch off anyway as adrenaline was pumping through you so you told him you’d still come if it was okay still. He offered to come and get you but you thought you’d give him some time to sort himself out whilst you made your way over and by the time he was letting you in, he looked freshly showered and dressed and you heart leapt as you caught sight of him.

‘Hey, come in’ he told you, stepping to the side as you walked in silently. ‘You want a drink or anything?’

‘No thanks’ you told him quietly and he gave you a shy nod before making his way to the living room.

‘Take a seat I just wanna grab a water’ he told you, running to the kitchen before joining you again. ‘what made you come to the game today?’

‘I always told you I would’ you answered and he gave you a small nod, shuffling in his seat uncomfortably before he sat playing with his fingers go a while. It was silent as you both thought about what you wanted to say next but you were waiting for him to go first.

‘You know I love you, don’t you?’ He told you quietly and your head snapped up to look at him. He wasn’t looking back at you, his eyes fixated on his fingers as he built up the courage to speak but you were afraid you might not be able to hear him now over your heart pounding in your ears. ‘And I know you still care about me. You wouldn’t of come today or helped me out earlier if you didn’t’ he uttered, his eyes finally peering up to meet yours. ‘Please say something’ he whispered, pleading with you to give him some scrap hope or inclination as to how you were feeling but you were in defensive mode. Unsure of if his words were genuine

‘I don’t know what to say’ you whispered, your heart dropping into your tummy when his eyes snapped back to looking at his fingers. No longer able to look at you when he knew what was about to come out of your mouth. ‘I don’t think-‘

‘I know what you’re doing’ he interrupted, his features a lots softer than you were expecting. ‘Please don’t push me away because you’re scared’

‘I’m not’ you lied, cursing him internally for being able to read you so well. You kept your eyes down hoping you could fool him for a bit longer but also because you couldn’t stand to see him this upset.

‘You were wrong about what you said. Us being friends has nothing to do with our parents. You’re my person, y/n. My best friend in the whole world who I love spending every second I can I with. It’s like I’ve felt homeless without you. I’ve got no where to go, no one to turn to. Please just let me fix this. I’d do absolutely anything for you’

You couldn’t listen to him anymore, his voice thick with tears as he let them flow down his face freely. He looked heartbroken as his bottom lip trembled with emotion and he looked like he was on the edge of breaking down. You couldn’t take it, your own heart shattering as you looked at him and without thinking you scrambled towards him, grabbing his face as you gently brushed his tears away. The touch of your skin on his seemed to have the adverse effect though as you were hoping to calm him down but he pulled you closer instantly, sobbing into your neck as he repeatedly apologised.

‘I’m so so sorry, please forgive me’ he hiccuped, holding onto you for dear life but you were set on trying to calm him down. You placed your lips to his ear, shushing him as you fingers found their way into his hair so you could scratch over his scalp gently as you rubbed up and down his back with your other hand.

‘It’s alright Mase, come on please calm down for me it’s okay’ you whispered relaxing back into the cushions so you could lean into each other. You tried to place gentle kisses on the side of his head, not caring you’d never done that before but you were trying anything to get him to relax and stop crying. Your own eyes were welling up at the state he was in but you willed yourself to stay strong for him. Keeping him tucked into your body even when you knew he’d calmed down you let him stay where he was until he was comfortable enough to pull away and look at you.

‘Sorry’ he breathed, and you wanted to tell him it was okay but you knew he had more he wanted to tell you. ‘I’ve found all this really hard you know? Not being able to talk to you and knowing you’re mad at me. I know it was my own fault but it sucks’

‘I know, Mase. I’ve found it hard too. I’m sorry we haven’t spoken sooner, I guess I just got in my own head and I didn’t want to deal with the fact that you might not want me around’ you sniffled, trying not to get upset as you wanted to talk this through with him.

‘Of course I want you around. I hated not speaking to you these past few weeks, I’ve missed you like crazy’ he breathed, holding you face by your jaw so you would look at him properly. ‘You’re my best friend and I let you down. I can’t tell you how sorry I am’

‘Why did you say all that stuff to me?’ You whispered as you watched his face drop before his lowered his gaze. Too embarrassed to look at you properly as he thought over everything.

‘I wish I knew, I really did. I can’t believe I’d ever say that stuff to you cause I don’t mean a word of it’ he breathed before locking eyes with you again. ‘You’re everything to me. You really are and it was all lies. I am yours, always have been. I don’t think you’re a nag or controlling and I’d be the luckiest man on earth if you were my girlfriend’ he laughed and you felt your face flush as you dropped your eyes from his. You whole body was thudding as your heart sped up at his confession, unsure if you were hearing him correctly and if you could handle him telling you any more. ‘I mean it. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to realise. I’ve had a crush on you for ages but you’re so smart and you’ve got everything together so I never told you cause I figured I wouldn’t be what you want. And that’s okay, you deserve way more than I can give you-‘

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling back quickly as you’d shocked yourself with your actions but you’d just wanted him to stop talking as you knew he was rambling. It had definitely worked though as he stared back at you in shock, now seemingly lost for words.

‘Sorry, I just-‘

You couldn’t finish your sentence as he was now kissing you back, holding you in place as he slowly brushed his lips against yours and you felt yourself soften under his touch. He was unbelievably gentle with you and you could tell he was holding back so you kissed him back harder, butterflies erupting throughout your body as you caught onto what was happening.

You were kissing Mason. The boy you’d loved since you’d first set eyes on him and the realisation made you smile which in turn caused him to smile before you pulled apart.

‘You don’t know how long I’ve waited to do that’ he smiled, pulling away further so he could look at you

‘Not as long as I’ve waited’ you laughed and he gave you a curious expression. ‘Do you remember the day we first met?’

‘You mean that day in Portsmouth? Outside that pub?’

‘Yeah’ you laughed, looking down as you knew you were about to be embarrassed. ‘I’ve been waiting since then’ you told him and you felt him smile as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

‘Why haven’t you ever told me?’

‘Cause you’re you, Mase’ you laughed, playing with your fingers as you were too scared to look at him but you knew it was the right time to speak up. ‘You’re the best person in my life but you’re way out of my league. Not even that, I feel like we come from different planets half the time and I’ve never got why you wanted to be friends with me-‘

‘Hey’ he interrupted, tilting your face up so you would look at him. ‘Please don’t talk about yourself like that. I’ve never once thought that about you’ he told you seriously and you gulped under his intense stare.

‘Sorry’ you breathed ‘I guess once you got with Sienna and then the girls after her it just made me think you’d never want little old me’ you laughed and you watched him pout in annoyance but you knew it wasnt aimed at you.

‘I’m sorry’ he whispered before kissing you again gently. ‘Wanna know when I knew?’ He laughed and you nodded enthusiastically. ‘As shit as it sounds it was when you got with that dickhead from work last year. When you told me I felt so weird and I couldn’t figure out why. Then I realised all the stuff you were doing with him I wanted to be doing with you’ he told you quietly and you gulped down a nervous lump. ‘I guess I sort of felt the same though, he was so different to me that I thought I could never be what you wanted. He was safe and reliable and I’m not sure I can give you that’ he told you quietly.

Your heart sunk as your eyes dropped to your lap. This was obviously his way of letting you down gently but you’d made your peace with not being able to be with him a while ago and when he pulled you in for a hug you didn’t push him away.

‘I want to try though’ he whispered into your hair and your whole body exploded with relief as he gently rubbed your back. ‘I want to try and be what you need cause these last few weeks have been absolute hell for me and it’s just made me realise you’re all I want’

‘Really?’ You breathed, tears escaping your eyes as he comforted you.

‘Yes’ he laughed, trying to pull back but you held him close, not confident enough to look at him just yet. ‘I know we’ve got some stuff to sort through but I really want you to be mine’ he whispered, and the vulnerability in his voice made you finally look up at him, pulling him into a gentle kiss immediately as he laid the pair of you down. ‘Are we in agreement then?’ He laughed, moving the hair out of your face as you smiled back at him.

‘I think so yeah’ you told him quietly as he yawned and you both laughed as you stroked over his jaw. ‘Keeping you up am I?’ You joked as he pulled you closer.

‘Just give me ten minutes, it’s been a long day’ he smiled, shutting his eyes as you pulled a blanket over the pair of you and cuddled into his chest. You felt his breathing deepen not too long after and you let yourself drift off with him.

You weren’t sure what time it was when you eventually woke up, but you knew it was light outside. You opened your eyes to be met with Masons staring right back into yours, a gentle smile on his lips as he took you in.

‘Good morning, beautiful’ he whispered, his thumb stroking across your jaw before he placed a gentle kiss to your lips causing you to smile.

‘What happened to ten minutes’ you laughed and he smiled down at you lovingly.

‘I know, but I was exhausted’ he huffed, repositioning himself so you were on your back and he could lean over you a little bit. His head resting in his hand as the other cupped your cheek and stroked it gently. ‘I know we didn’t really get to talk everything over properly last night, but are we okay?’ He asked quietly and you nodded up to him with a smile.

‘I think so. We’ve got time to talk everything through properly later but at least I don’t have to pre tend like I don’t hate you today’ you laughed and he looked at you offended before the realisation hit him.

‘Ah shit, I forgot everyone’s gonna be here. What if I wanna kiss you?’

‘You’ll have to wait till tomorrow’ you told him as he dropped his lip, clearly unhappy with the situation.

‘Well let me stock up now cause this is gonna be unbearable’ he smiled, leaning down to attach your lips to his and you hummed into his mouth as you reached up to cup his jaw.

You were so caught up in the moment you didn’t even hear the door open, but you pulled apart with a shock when you heard someone let out a little yelp.

‘Something the pair of you want to tell me?’ Debbie laughed as you tried to hide yourself in Masons body out of embarrassment. You felt Masons chest shake as he laughed.

‘Can you pretend you haven’t seen anything? Just for today?’ He asked and you chanced a peek up her just as she sent him a wink.

‘Fine, but you owe me. And I’d get up if I was you, Summer is on the war path already and you know she won’t keep her mouth shut’ she laughed as she fled to the kitchen and Mason quickly pulled you up and placed a heavy kiss on your lips as you heard Summer running down his stairs.

‘Let’s get this show on the road’

Thank you so much for reading 😌 I’d really like some feedback so please feel free to drop me an ask or whatever you feel comfortable doing, I’d really love to hear from you 🩷

[makeitp1nk]

Gosh this fic. I haven’t had a story simmer within me like this since Rebel, Rebel. I think you’ll be able to tell. Hope you like it and that you fall in love with @asterpixxies’s art just like I did 🩷

As always, thanks to our magnificent mods, @drarry-mini-bang. I’m not sure this fic would have happened without them!

Title: On the Radio

Content/warnings: POV Multiple, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, personality altering potions/drugs, Trauma, Healing from Trauma, parents keeping secrets, parents making difficult decisions, coming of age angst, Happy Ending, time skip (only at the end), Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Minor Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Pining, falling in love , Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, directionless Harry Potter, taking sleeping pills without reading the label (one instance), Gay Disaster Harry Potter, Harry Potter's big gay awakening, excessive drinking (one instance), Hand Jobs, frotting

Summary: By the time their son turned six, two things became evident to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy: their son was a Seer, and his sweet, docile nature would never make for an appropriate Malfoy Heir. With a war on the horizon, they made a terrible, irrevocable choice.

Thirteen years later, the war was over, and Hogwarts was just rebuilt enough to welcome students back to its halls. For the would-be recent graduates, an additional (forced) eighth year was enacted to round out their education. On day one of year eight, Harry Potter noticed a certain Slytherin missing from the usual crowd and deducted Malfoy must be up to something. Never one to shy from a quest, Harry went after the missing Slytherin, completely unprepared for what he would find.

Draco Malfoy was sure he’d never see Harry Potter again, even though he Saw Harry Potter in his impossible dreams. He mostly thought his mind was cruel for focusing on his past obsession with a boy from a world that hates him. Until one day, his impossible vision-dreams came true.

Link to fic on AO3: HERE

Length: 20k

[radiansjort]

BEST PARTS OF 2024 OLYMPICS (as someone in the US)

all the buzz around the cardboard beds. idk why the whole idea is so funny 💀

lebron hoisting that flag like george washington crossing the delaware. him and coco were perfect picks for flag bearers fr

POMMEL HORSE GUY. mr clark kent who got picked for the men’s gymnastics team JUST FOR THAT ONE EVENT, showed up, served cunt, and ensured us their first men’s gym medal in 16 years. stephen nedoroscik you will forever be iconic. (the whole team really— i also love seeing fred richards’ parents reactions LMAO)

THE USA WOMENS RUGBY TEAM 🗣️ being down 5 with 7 seconds left to go COAST TO COAST TO SCORE AND WIN THE BRONZE FOR THE FIRST US WOMENS MEDAL IN RUGBY!!! also ilona maher you will forever be iconic. 

flavia saraiva falling in warmups and being like ok bet, slaps a band aid on her black eye and goes out to help brazil win their FIRST MEDAL IN WOMENS GYM OHHH YEAHHH

GUATEMALA EARNED THEIR SECOND MEDAL EVER 🔥🔥🔥‼️‼️GRACIAS JEAN PIERRE BROL CARDENAS 🗣️🗣️🇬🇹🇬🇹🇬🇹🥉LOS CHAPINES FTW ‼️(if it weren’t for the new bib number rule instead of a shootout we could’ve gotten higher but i digress 😔)

THE WOMENS GYMNASTICS TEAM EATS ONCE AGAIN. 🐐🐐🐐

kim yeji’s AURA???!??? she came out there and shot with her hand in her pocket like she graduated from the university of servington, which she did, all while holding her daughters toy elephant 🥹

suni lee’s, simone biles’, and brody malone’s comeback stories were all so heartwarming to see, especially rebeca andrade’s coming back after THREE ACL TEARS?!!?

henrik christiansen (aka muffin guy) is literally so funny 😭🙏 bro actually has SO. MANY. tiktoks about the olympics village chocolate muffins and i give all credit to him for the fact we have the recipe now 😋

GUATEMALA WINNING ITS FIRST GOLD 🥇🥇🥇 ADRIANA RUANO 🐐🐐 PRIMER BRONCE Y AHORA ORO 🥉🥇🇬🇹🇬🇹🇬🇹🔥🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️

that turkish guy who just came out there in a t shirt and rawdogged the olympics 😭😭 imagine doing the shooting event with no eyewear, no ear covers, and just eyeballing it and winning SILVER??? bro is a hit man tryna not be suspicious by winning gold 🤨🤨

snoop dogg just chilling?? bro is participating in trials, trading pins, going to like every event and cheering, wearing FULL equestrian gear with martha stewart 😭? watching skateboarding finals w tony hawk? my guy is on the side quest of all side quests

katie ledecky my GOAT 🐐. i always love seeing her as the only swimmer on screen!! she lowkey has time to get out of the pool, do some interviews, get a snack, and come back to watch second place finish fr 

i do not usually watch cycling but i got so sad when remco evenepoel’s bike broke down BUT he had such a. huge lead he STILL MANAGED TO WIN GOLD!!! 🔥🔥

loving all the countries making history with their first medals!! julian alfred (st. lucia) and thea lafond (dominica) SHOWING UP FR!! also a lot of countries got their first medals in gymnastics specifically like kaylia neymour (algeria), carlos yulo (philippines), ángel barajas (colombia), etc. LIKE OKAYY THE GYMNASTS ARE NOT HERE TO PLAY

all the noah lyles haters been real quiet after he won gold in 100m 🤫🤫

the french pole vaulter who LOST because his peanits was too big. LIKE??!!?? sure you have a big wiener but at the cost of LOSING THE OLYMPCIS LMFAOOO

the women’s balance beam podium was so cute 😭😭 the two italians, alice d’amato and manila esposito, biting their medals together, and zhou yaqin from china looks over and does it too 🥹

armand duplantis hit the turkish hitman celly after breaking the pole vaulting wr AGAIN and winning gold 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 tuff. he actually built different cuz tell me why he’s broken the wr LIKE EIGHT TIMES IN A ROW???

YEAHH BRAZIL BEAT FRANCE AND SPAIN EVEN WHEN THE REFS WERE TRYING SOOO HARD TO MAKE EM LOSE ‼️ like they were NOT slick we could tell 🤨

bro the figure skaters from beijing 2022 FINALLY getting their medals like??? i really took two years for the IOC to investigate? okay. AT LEAST THEYRE FINALLY GETTING THE BAG H 🗣️🗣️

imane khelif getting a gold despite ALL THE SHIT BEING THROWN AT HER‼️ she faced all these brain dead critics yet came out to win it, and saying without her haters the win wouldn’t have been so satisfying??? QUEEN SHIT 👑👑

women’s soccer SLAYED SO HARD. like i’ve seen enough build the alyssa naeher statue. that shootout against sweden awakened that dawg in her and she LOCKED IN. 

men’s and women’s basketball wins over france 🔥 imagine being the host country and both ur basketball teams go to the gold medal match just TO LOSE TO THE SAME COUNTRY LLL

usa winning the most medals 🔥💪 they not like U.S. fr 

shoutout to that guy who tried to climb the eiffel tower without ropes at the closing ceremony 😔✊ arrested before he could achieve greatness 🕊️🕊️🕊️

[featherandferns]

daylight - seven

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 7 of the daylight series | read part 6 here

content warnings: none

word count: 2.7k.

blurb: with JJ gone the next morning, you distract yourself with work and reunite with Barry at the garage. The next day, following a surf day at the beach, you find yourself worried that this thing with JJ may do more damage than it's worth.

Just as he had when the two of you fell asleep at the Chateau; JJ is gone in the morning. You’re groggy as you turn over in bed. Picking up your phone, you find a text from Mimsy. It’s a winking emoji accompanying a picture of her in a guy’s bed, with Darren’s sleeping back facing the camera. Laughing quietly, you text a reply requesting a debrief later. You open the Pogue group chat next and scroll through the typical banter-like chatter. Kiara mentions a surfing day soon and you reply, telling her tomorrow would be better than today.

You had a photography gig lined up today. A photoshoot of a new, hippie-style smoothie bar that had opened near Figure Eight by some trust-fund college graduate. They were willing to pay you a hundred for the pictures alone and another twenty-five if you edited them on their behalf. After that, you needed to edit the pictures from the Country Club gala since you got side-tracked last night.

With the mundanity of your morning routine, it’s hard to believe JJ had been around the night before. If it weren’t for the polaroid pictures which have your face light on fire (and are promptly stuffed at the bottom of your sock drawer), you’d think you might have hallucinated the whole thing. You’d be lying to say that you weren’t a little crestfallen to not find a text from JJ. 

It feels strange to drive your car after hitching so many lifts with JJ in the Twinkie. It’s when you’re halfway to the smoothie bar that your car makes a concerning, clunking noise. After the incident a couple months back, you’re ready for the thing to start steaming again. Thankfully, it doesn’t, but it prompts you to visit Barry’s garage after your photoshoot. 

Wandering into the garage, the smell of cigarettes hits you hard and strong. There’s old sixties rock playing through the speakers, the quality crackly, and you venture the isles looking for a worker. You end up poking your head into the main body-works section, rapping politely on the open door. 

“Hello? Anybody here?”

A man grunts and appears from behind a car. It’s Barry. He’s got an oil streak on his cheek and his sleeves are rolled up, revealing his fading tattoos. He eyes you up from across the room. 

“Do I know you?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m JJ’s friend? We came by here a few weeks back now,” you say, semi-awkward. Barry wags a finger at you as his memory jogs. 

“You’re the one with the busted radiator, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” you smile. “Listen, uh, it’s making a weird noise again and I don’t know squat about cars. I was wondering if you could give it a look? I’d be more than willing to pay, even for a glance over.”

Barry shoves his hands in his overall pockets and shrugs. “Course. JJ’s friend, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, anything for that kid,” Barry’s gruff voice says. He wanders over to you and follows you out to your car. Cracking open the bonnet, he talks as he inspects the engine. “You know, that kid’s pretty smart with these things, too. He’d make a hell of mechanic. You could’ve just asked him to check it over for you.”

“Oh. I mean, he checked it out when I broke down but I didn’t know he was that savvy with it,” you reply. 

“Hell yeah. Shame his dad’s such a bastard cause he’s got a hell of a mind for mechanics, too,” Barry chuckles, sounding almost sad as he does. “Poor kid got dealt a rough hand.”

“Yeah, uh, I get the sense he has a tricky relationship with his dad,” you tentatively say.

Barry spares you a glance. His eyes hold years of grief. “Don’t think his old man knows how lucky he is to have that kid around.”

Your mind darts back to the photo on the pinboard of his child. Smiling sympathetically, you nod. “He’s pretty special.”

“Damn straight,” Barry grunts in agreement. Then he continues inspecting your car in silence. 

You liked Kildare. The people were genuine and real. They looked out for each other on the Cut; offered a helping hand, generous with loans and handiwork. Sometimes it seemed quality of character was more important than money. You liked that way of thinking. Maybe if everyone took that line of thought onboard, the world could be a brighter place. 

“Well, I don’t see anything wrong,” Barry concludes, closing the bonnet. “Might’ve just been a screw or something shifting, or the brakes after going over a pothole. I wouldn’t stress.”

“Thanks,” you say. “I just thought it best to check it out.”

You reach into your pocket and pull out your wallet, fishing around for some dollar bills. Barry frowns at you and shakes his head. 

“You ain’t gotta do all that,” he says. 

“I insist,” you reply. “I mean, you’ve already helped me out for free before.”

“Nah, you’re good,” Barry returns. “Just leave us a good review or something. Could do with some more customers these days.”

You glance at the garage with that. It looks old and rickety, with dust stained windows and a tin roof. The font of the sign that lines the store is reminiscent of the seventies. You wouldn’t be surprised if it hadn’t been updated since then. 

“You know,” you say, looking back to him, “I do some photography. I’d be happy to pay you back by taking a few shots for some promo.”

He quirks a brow. “You any good?”

You dig out your camera from your bag and open the gallery, holding it out to him. Flicking through the shots of the smoothie bar, you let him take his time. His lips purse and brows raise, seemingly impressed. 

“These are pretty good. You sure you wouldn't mind?” he asks, handing it back. You smile and shake your head. 

“It’s the least I can do,” you reply. 

“Alright. You got yourself a deal. Come by whenever and we’ll get it sorted,” Barry returns, sticking out his hand for you to shake. You do so gladly. “What’s your name by the way?” 

You tell him. A sombre smile softens Barry’s wrinkled features. “That’s what we were gonna name my little girl.”

You’re not sure what to say and so you smile kindly at him. As you drive back home, you can’t help but feel as though you’ve made a friend. There’s the nagging feeling to tell JJ about it all but you don’t. Besides, he still hasn’t texted you since last night. 

The next day you go surfing. Walking up through the dunes, you find the Pogues on the beach dressed in swimsuits. Kiara is sitting on a towel, rubbing sunscreen into her leg, whilst the guys stand around talking. Their boards are scattered around them. Pope spots you first and waves. You wave back with your free hand, the other holding a White Claw. You’ve barely reached them before JJ’s hooking an arm over John B’s shoulder. 

“Hey, hey! Take a picture of us!” 

“She literally just got here,” Kiara scolds. 

Rolling your eyes, you entertain JJ. Fishing your camera out of your tote bag, you click it on, hold it up and take a mediocre shot. “Happy?”

“Yep,” JJ grins, letting John B free. 

Kiara stands up and grabs her board, dressed in leopard-print bikini bottoms and a plum-shaded bikini top. Before she can move, you blurt out for her to hold still and snap a sideways photo of her. 

“We didn’t just invite you here to be our personal photographer,” Pope assures you. 

Laughing, you ditch your tote bag on the towel. “I don’t mind. You guys take good photos.”

JJ wanders over to you, pinches your can of seltzer to have a swig, and looks out to the sea. “Waves look pretty decent today, right?”

“Hell yeah,” Kiara grins. Looking at you, she asks, “you joining?”

“I’m gonna take some shots first,” you smile. JJ passes you back your drink; you down it and place the can in the methodical ‘trashbag’ Kie brought. Ditching your shirt and shorts, you join the others to wander down to the waterfront, everyone talking over each other. John B and Pope wade out into the water with Kie, and then they start paddling deeper into the depths. JJ lingers beside you for a moment. 

“You sure you don’t wanna join?”

“I will in a minute,” you say. Lifting your camera, you add, “the lighting’s just really good today.”

“Alright,” he shrugs, walking into the waves. Looking back to you, he loudly adds, “you look hot in that bikini, by the way!”

You hide your fluster with an eye roll, waving him off into the water. A cheeky, knowing grin turns away from you as he paddles out, calling out to the others. As the sun beats down on the beach, you adjust the camera settings and focus on one friend at a time. Kiara dips in and out of the waves, curly hair flowing behind her, face set in focus. John B and Pope bend and lean, tightening their cores, the shadows of the rolling water enhancing the beauty to their form. Naturally, JJ is your favourite. Maybe it’s the smile on his face, brimming and bright, like he was born in the sea and destined to surf its waves. He makes it look easy. Rakes a hand through his hair from time to time, like he’s taking a leisurely stroll down the street. When he catches your camera on him, he points to you with a holler. You manage to snap a shot before he bails. The next one you get is of him, sinking into the aquamarine waves. You take that as your cue to ditch your camera with the rest of the belongings, snatch up your board and join them in the waves. JJ cheers you on as you pass him by, a little rusty in your technique. They were right: it was perfect weather for it. The water was tamer today than it had been in other sessions. Not as brutal in its churning of you when you bail off. 

Somehow, the five of you find yourself sat atop of your boards in a circle, chatting away as the sun dries your water-speckled bodies. 

“I think that’s it’s completely unjust,” Kie complains in her environmentalist spiel. She looks to you, “I mean, it’s–”

Her brows knit as she looks at something on your neck. 

“Is that a hickey?”

You glance down, lifting a finger to your skin, and realise that the shabby concealer work you’d done that morning had rubbed off on your t-shirt and washed away with the sea water. The picture of abashed, your eyes dart down to the water. 

“Uh…No.”

“Yes it is!” Kie grins. 

Pope paddles over and investigates it like a doctor might.

“Definitely not a rash or a burn.”

“I will push you off your board, Pope, I swear to God,” you grumble. He takes a wary paddle backwards. 

“Who the hell did that to you?” John B sniggers. 

Your eyes glance fleetingly to JJ, hopefully without the other’s notice. He’s sat watching it all unfold with a proud, shit-eating grin. Asshole. 

“Nobody.”

“So you’re saying it’s a phantom hickey?” Pope jokes in his bizarre Pope way. You push him off his board with that. He crashes into the water as the others laugh. Through their laughter, you overhear Kie talking to JJ. 

“Why do you look so smug?” 

“We should probably head back to shore,” you announce, “me and JJ gotta start heading to work soon.”

Turning away, you start paddling back to shore before anybody can argue. Never much to dwell, the group happily abandons their line of questioning and follow. On land, you dry off and dress. John B and Pope start battling over a bag of chips and Kiara has taken off collecting stray pieces of litter along the beach. JJ wanders up to you and pinches your butt. Spinning around, you glare at him. 

“Thanks for your help back there,” you say lowly. 

JJ shrugs, grinning, “fun watching you squirm.”

You swat his leg with your towel and he cusses with a laugh, hopping away from you. “Dry off. We got work in fifteen.”

JJ mimics you in a high-pitched echo but does as you say, rubbing himself dry of salt water. The five of you share the load as you walk back to the Twinkie. JJ drives, dropping the others at the Chateau before taking the both of you to the Country Club.

“Our deal still on?” JJ asks you. 

“Hell yeah. Get ready to pay up,” you grin. 

The two of you had made a bet the other day, about who would hear the phrase “excuse me” more. You debate  bringing up the other night, as the two of you ride to work, but you pull up to the country club before you have a chance to muster-up the courage. 

Venturing into the staff room, you and JJ open your respective lockers and begin to change into your uniforms. 

“Listen, I hear it way more than you do,” you say to JJ, referring back to the ‘excuse me’ battle,  as you pull on your blouse. “‘Excuse me, miss, can you take a picture of me and my family?’ ‘Excuse me miss, can you get one of me and my wife?’”

“Oh, come off it,” JJ sniggers. “ ‘Excuse me sir, get me one of those shrimp cocktails.’ ‘Excuse me sir, I need a refill.’”

“Your customers sound a lot less polite than mine,” you snort. 

“Tell me about it,” he grumbles. He tugs his shirt off and you watch the muscles of his back ripple. As JJ buttons up his work shirt, he turns to you and smirks. “You might wanna cover that up.”

You glance down to once more find your hickey poking out. Buttoning up your blouse, you shoot him a half-amused glare. “Next time can you put it in an easier to hide place?”

“Nah,” JJ leers, clearing the distance between you. His fingers reach out to brush at your collarbone. “You have a spot right here that makes you squirm.”

The intensity of his unwavering stare traps you in place like you’re under Medusa’s watch. Someone walks into the staff changing room - Larry, from the kitchen - and JJ takes a step away from you, turning back to his bag.

“Hey man,” he nods to Larry. 

“Yo.”

And just like that he goes about getting ready as if he hardly knows you. Sends you a cordial smile and nod as he departs, with a fleeting “see you later”.

It shouldn’t sting as much as it does. And maybe it wouldn’t, if it weren’t for Tyler. If it weren’t for how screamingly familiar it felt to how you spent six months of your life in Vancouver.

That softness in JJ’s eyes, hidden behind laughter and rambunctious shenanigans and even anger, at times, reminds you of Tyler. Brings back that girlish thought: that all girls want a guy to look at them like that, and only them. Have that gentleness saved just for you. It reminds you of how you felt with your ex. How he used to be different around you in an inexplicable way. Soft, kind, vulnerable. Real. He’d hold you and spin you around, and make you feel safe and special, until you realise that it only happened when he was with just you. That around everyone else, even your friends, he was distant and distracted. He wouldn’t hold your hand. Wouldn’t kiss your lips, let alone your cheek. Leave you to fend for yourself in conversations, like treading water in the sea, whilst he and his family sat, relaxing on a yacht only feet away. Relied on the excuse ‘I was going to…’ and became a master at apologising. Slowly, with time, it stopped feeling like a privilege to know only that side of him when nobody was looking. Instead, it began to feel like a curse. And JJ, with his smug silence at the beach and passivity in the changing room, you were worried that you might be retracing your steps.

That thought leaves a bad taste in your mouth from the moment you leave the changing rooms, and it lingers like stale coffee on your tongue long after the end of your shift. 

read part eight here!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid | @heybank | @avengersgirllorianna | @rrosiitas | @yourmumstoy | @jjsfavgirl | @void21 | @fictionalcomforts | @gsp420 | @redhead1180 | @wearemadeofstardust0 | @mrs-jjmaybank | @ifilwtmfc | @heybank | @lilyw1235 | @belle101200

[starburts-addict]

Never Again

Pairing: Yandere!Vil x afab!Reader

CW: Pregnancy ment., Dead beat Vil, implied accusations of tampering with pretoection, kidnapping, parents being shitty and disowning their pregnant kid, heavily implications of some actually tampering with protection, just not talked about, Reader is not Yuu, not proof read, drugging(?) But it's just Vil using a handkerchief he cast a curse on beforehand

NOTES:

[S/N] = Son's Name

[Y/HC] = Your hair color

[Y/N] = Your name

Honestly this was based off a dream sorta, so it's probably shitty and ooc. It was a late night writing practice tbh.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Not at all. It is your graduation day and right now you're panicking in the bathroom. Two weeks ago, you and Vil decided to spend a night with each other to destress. You both even went extra lengths to make sure nothing would arise from that night. Now here you were, having a breakdown over the fact you were pregnant with his child. He would never let this slide. You can't keep it from him though. After the ceremony was done with, you approached Vil and asked to talk to him in private. You told him about your pregnancy to which he scoffed at and said that he wanted to do nothing with that thing. He called the baby a thing. A thing! You held back tears. You didn't really have any strong emotions towards Vil, he was your friend, you thought he would at least help. He wanted nothing to do with you and the baby. Even accused you of having to do something with it. You both argued, but in the end you stormed off crying.

It's been eight years. You gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. With Vil's eye color, but with [y/hc] hair. When you initially told your parents, they left you at the ceremony. You ended up not telling anyone and you didn't have any means to get back to your hometown. What did you end up doing? Staying at Sage Isle. You started to work at two jobs, one at a restaurant and another at the local library. You did everything you could do to ensure [S/N] had a good life. You didn't need any help from Vil. You were both happy and at some point, you met a guy named Leo who lived In the isle. He moved for school and he was back a year after you had graduated as he had stayed an extra year for a longer education. He helped you out for seven years and in the fifth, you both ended up falling for each other and started to date. 

It may not be perfect, but it was perfect to you. This life was perfect. Even with all the blemishes it has. You would do nothing to change anything… So why did everything have to take a turn for the worse? You heard Vil was shooting part of a movie in the Isle. You avoided him. You made sure you avoided any setting he was at. You made sure that Vil didn't see you at all so as to not upset him, you and especially [S/N]. One day, Leo and your son were shopping for groceries for your shared home. Leo had to step away to answer a call from wor, and you were keeping your son entertained until you heard your name being called out by a familiar voice you'd hope to never hear in person again. Your fear raised as turned to see Vil. Your expression was fearful for a split second before you had to keep a straight face.

“Hello Schoenheit.” You said to him nonchalantly. “What are you doing here?” Vil asked coldly. All your fear washed away and was replaced by rage, but you kept it hidden. “I live here, I'm shopping with my kid and partner.” “Aren't you supposed to be in [H/C]?” He doesn’t know, nor do you care if he did or not, but  you did if [S/N] knew. You turned to him and smiled. “Go with Leo, I'll be there.” You said, hesitantly he followed your request and you turned to face the man who practically shared the blame of ruining your life. “If you must know, they disowned me. If you're here to mock me, you're better off leaving me alone. Especially since you constantly have paparazzi. You wouldn't want to ruin your reputation would you?” Vil sneered and came close to you. “It's better if we talk in private then. Meet me at the docks at ten at night.” You rolled your eyes as he walked away. You wouldn't end up going.

How foolish were you?! It's almost ten and you ended up going to the docks. You told Leo beforehand as he took care of [S/N]. You both were hesitant about this decision, but you ended up arriving like an idiot. “You did arrive.” You turned to see Vil with a smirk. “Wipe that off your face. What do you want? I want to get this over with.” Vil approached you and came closer. “I did some investigation… I know you aren't happy, let me propose this. Let's get married. Don't you want a good life for [S/N]?” He said. Your blood boiled as he put a hand on your shoulder. You swatted it as he finished speaking. “Don't you fucking speak to me as if you care. You know nothing about me. I am very happy with my life. If anything I'll be happier than you ever will be.” You both argued for a long while before in the heat of the moment, Vil couldn't keep the facade up he held. “You aren't supposed to be happy! You're supposed to be sad and come running to me!” He yelled. You were confused was an understatement. “What's that supposed to mean Schoenheit?” 

There you go again referring to him as his last name. He hated that, but he had spilled a piece of information he wasn't supposed to. He was furious at himself, but he can't dwell on that. “I rejected [S/N] so you could depend on me. I wanted you to know you needed me. You weren't supposed to have a good life. I was supposed to rescue you. Leo came into your life and ruined everything.” You were pissed off by this revelation. It can't be true he's bullshitting. “Stop fucking around Vil.” “I'm not messing around my dear. I never forgot about you nor my son. I love you [Y/N].” You were pissed off. He isn't telling you the truth, or at least the full truth. You were lost in your thoughts and anger that you failed to realize Vil getting closer. You snapped out of it as soon as you felt his arms wrap around your waist as he covered your mouth. With a cloth. It wasn't chloroform. He used something completely different. You passed out almost immediately. “We'll live happily as intended… just the three of us…” Those were the last words you heard before your consciousness slipped away. 

You will live as intended, happily with him. 

[oharababe]

★ 彡 ALL THE MEMORIES (OF YOU). ✧ EREN JAEGER { I }

✮ main summary. . eren realises two things when he started college. 1) everything is different but not everything has changed. and 2) his feelings for you are growing stronger and noticeable even without his subtle hints.

✮ chapter 01 summary. . the reason why eren is the way he is right now is that you have always been part of his youth.

✮ tags. . modern + college au, fem reader, friends to lovers, fluff, eventual romance, mutual pining, slight angst. divider creds: cafekitsune.

✮ wc. . 2,027

When he thinks back, which he often does, you are always part of his every memory. 

Eren has known you since he was ten years old. He met you when he was only ten years old, merely a fifth-grade student, and you were the new kid. He was also the new kid and so was everyone in that class, since it was the new academic year. 

Back then, he didn’t think of anything special about you. You were someone in his age group, a classmate of his, and just someone who sat at a desk next to him, close by the window that Eren used to escape away to his thoughts. Someone as sweet, nice and an ambivert butterfly as you do not match his personality - rough, abrupt and stubborn. You shouldn’t really be friends with him. 

But fate had other plans in store for him. Because somewhere between the blurry lines of time of seeing each other so many times and being grouped together in activities and projects, a thought occurred to him back then that he should try to get to know you better. 

He never forgets how you open up to him so easily. Eren knows he is a handful to deal with — he’s a boy full of passion, hardheadedness and impulsiveness for someone who is only ten years old. He does not get along with the children his age unless it’s Armin, until you came along.

Eren made the initiative to get to know you better for an activity he’s long forgotten about. But he never forgets how you open up to him without feeling intimidating, knowing that he can be a handful to deal with. But with you, he is rather decently palatably tolerable to you. Listening to your talks and answering your questions without feeling irritated. And spending time with you in those young days, Eren opens up to you easily, too. 

Since then, you became more than his desk mate at school. You became one of his lunch buddies (his favourite) starting in sixth grade. The one who is always invited over to his house for ‘after-school activities’ and on weekends. The one who always gets paired up together with him for school projects in middle school to senior high, and comparing class schedules to see how common you and him share classes, and where and when to meet up if neither of you get to see each other through hours of school. 

Two individuals of distinct personalities and going through a spectrum of life and challenges, make the most out of the friendship through each other’s lives. He and you are inseparable from a bond like no other. Like tied together in red strings. A separate fusion of two souls that were once one united.

****

Eren remembers the late-night conversations between you and him having stayed up at night during high school. Telling about each other’s hopes, dreams, and picture painting thoughts. 

It’s months ahead that the two of you will graduate from high school, but Eren remembers talking to you a lot about college life and what it would be like. What kind of accommodation you both hope to live in for the college commute and what kind of new friends will form in college. 

The two of you like to joke about getting ready to sacrifice a full eight hours of sleep and pulling all-nighters after hearing the graduated kids moving on with their lives. Balancing studying and part-time working for financial support. And trying to stay sane with deadlines for the next four years of higher education.  

He knows what you’re taking in college, a degree in the medical field (he thinks that it’s so you, and well, it suits your future career). He’s going for architecture and Eren knows well that both of your degrees are so different. Most likely, his schedule won’t align with him by much, and the two of you might have internships to do as well. 

One thing’s for sure is that neither of you want to be distant apart and forget each other during that four-year journey. So when Eren brings up a particular topic casually, he didn’t expect your response.

“Maybe we should live in a two-bedroom apartment together,” Eren said on one of those nights. It made sense, as he did many things and shared those memories with you. He didn’t want to stop spending time with you, finding it difficult to wrap his head around the concept of not seeing you as much as he wished. But of course, he doesn’t say that to you. “I think that could work. It’s a lot cheaper than living on campus grounds.”

The two of you spent two hours looking into the apartment renting with him in his bedroom. Eren’s gone further and becomes quite invested in the process and idea of apartment hunting with you in Marley, looking at listing websites even after you called in for the night.

Only Eren doesn’t just think about moving in together with you for an apartment. He didn’t tell you about that yet, keeping that thought to himself, envisioning the idea of you and him living the domestic life as the two of you are about to embrace the college student life. He wishes he could just ask you to run away for an adventure in the main city. Riding the train all around and exploring the new world differently to the island. If he could, he would go wherever you would go if asked. Follow you to the edge of the world if you ask him to. 

It’s silly for someone who is only fifteen years old to think such thoughts. But as long as he gets to create and share memories with you, Eren wouldn’t stop himself from contemplating that said life. 

*****

Eren doesn’t give too much thought to the term ‘soulmates’ until his best friend, Armin Arlert, brings up the conversation one day in a study session during college.

When his blonde friend explains what he learns from his philosophy class on what the Ancient Greeks thought about soulmates, he doesn’t mind listening to Armin’s thoughts and also gives in his opinions. As they both conversed about how two people are constantly in search of looking for their other half, Armin says; “I feel like she could be your other half, Eren.”

He stops and almost stutters at Armin’s opinion as he averts his eyes elsewhere. His cheeks are warmer than the heater provided in the cafe they’re studying at. Eren sees him holding back a laugh, and he huffs recessively. “What makes you say that?”

He only smiles, “you have always been close to her since we were kids. Sometimes, you two are in your own world that I don’t see. I’m sure some of our friends and the people we knew feel the same way as I do.”

“Oh.” Now he’s even more embarrassed. Eren had an obstacle of realisation about his feelings towards you, perhaps a little too late now that you and he are now nineteen and ready to step into college. The way he sees you is different, how his gaze seems to linger on you longer than intended. 

He definitely has come a very long way from the boy, whom he was at ten years old when he first met you. If understanding complex feelings in the adolescent stage is tough, it’s no different when he’s in his late teenage hood and soon embracing adulthood. 

“I just…” Eren blushes and rubs the nape of his neck. He’s just thankful that you are not here with him and Armin. “Yeah, she means a lot to me. She’s our friend.” 

“Right, friend.” Armin repeats with an obvious grin curving up his mouth.  

That whole afternoon of study session, Eren thinks back of the term soulmate, and wonders if you ever felt the same way. It rings and sits right in him. You are, perhaps, a soulmate of his. 

*****

Time flies quickly as a student, with so many things changing. Though, there are some things that haven’t. 

Eren believes he remains the same as he used to be when he first entered college with you. Now three years older and currently in his fourth year of studying architecture. He’s different physically with a longer hair that he ties into a half, man bun and being good-looking for an adult in his very early twenties. Eren wouldn’t imagine that he was having the time of his life.

The night club is full of people with mostly familiar faces. Its dim atmosphere that changes coloured light on occasions makes it feel like it’s truly a party celebration. Music is playing in the background that Eren recognizes most of the tracks. He’s having fun tonight, surrounded by people he knows that are invited. 

Across the room, he sees you dancing and swaying your body to the music. You’re looking so carefree and uniquely you it brings a smile to his face. His eyes gazingly, lovingly at you too, that he could not focus on anything else but you. You’ve grown and changed, but Eren always knows that you are still the same young person he met back in fifth grade. And here you are still with him, even though now he is definitely looking at you differently, like how a man has found his first love. He’s grateful to you.

After a moment of thinking, Eren decides he should come closer. So he walks towards the dance floor, walking towards you. You hadn’t noticed him even when he stood behind you, not until Eren’s fingers gently caressed your earlobe.

Ticklish at the sensation, you now turn around and there’s a carefree grin and laugh ringing loud in his ears. “There you are! I thought you hadn’t been in the mood for your birthday party.”

Eren chuckles and shakes his head. Even though his birthday passed three months ago and it’s already June, final year projects and examinations completely occupied everyone’s time and energy that it wasn’t the right time to throw a party exactly on his birthday. Though he did celebrate his birthday in a rather small event with you and Armin, you still insist on making the best birthday party to celebrate him turning twenty-two. 

“I was catching up with the seniors.” Eren says. “Hey, thank you again. You didn’t have to do this — and I know you still feel bad about not having this part rightfully on my birthday, so stop pouting already.” He laughs a little when you make that petulant annoyance and push your bottom lip forward. He’s still smiling tenderly at you, “but thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You smile under the coloured fluorescent lights. And he looks at you like he’s been infatuated with you for the first time. Unable to take his eyes away from you. You’ve always been pretty and stunningly breath-taking for years, that it’s like the air is knocked out of his lungs. 

Eren entrusts his hand out to you open palmed. You gladly take it and twirl yourself around and he guides you spinning and into his chest. The beat of the music drops in the background, a familiar beat Eren is sure that he’s heard of years before. He remembers this song; it describes a romantic fantasy of two young people in love amidst running away and living together freely. A declaration of how the other is the master of one of their youth. It’s rather a reminiscing song since it’s been a while since he hears it blasting in public. 

Eren gazes down at your face when he hears your laugh. When your hand lands directly on his chest as he circles you in his arms, there’s a wide grin on your face and Eren hears your laughter and his laughter in the mix. If any of his friends sees him now, he knows they will bring it up soon, and he’ll have to blame it on all the supposed drinking he did. 

An anthem that he holds in his heart as he relates the music with you, who has been in his youth all these years.

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