#finally writes for the first time in over a year

[dannyriccsystem]

so random but could you do one where the reader flashes the driver 😭 during a podium, at home, wherever you feel like lol xx

TAKE A LOOK AT ME!

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER

SUMMARY: You flash the drivers

WARNINGS: Mature, nudity, Y/N usage, not proofread

FEATURING: MV1, DR3, LN4, CL16, YT22, LH44, CS55, GR63, OP81

No Kimi or Ollie just because I feel a bit awkward writing them in this scenario 😇

MAX VERSTAPPEN - MV1

Max was a busy guy. As your boyfriend, he always tried to make sure you were a part of his schedule one way or another. He didn’t want the two of you to grow distant, especially considering you were an anchor of sanity for him. Without you, he’d be a madman by now.

You always tried to reward him, whether it be with a gift or your undying love. He didn’t need these prizes, but Max certainly wouldn’t be complaining when he came home to a warm body to worship, or a good meal to keep himself full and happy. You took care of him just as much.

Today, he wanted to surprise you. It was a week off, and he woke up extra early to cook you breakfast. It was simple, nothing that required lots of skill or practice, but he knew you’d be happy nonetheless.

Indeed you were. You came waddling out into the kitchen, still partially asleep. One hand slid up your shirt to scratch your own stomach as you snatched a piece of bacon, humming in delight. “Max, baby,” You pointed to your half eaten bacon. “Cooked to perfection.”

He laughed and shook his head lightly, but you weren’t done. You held the piece between your teeth, using both hands to pull your pajama top up, letting your breasts spill free. His gaze dropped instantly, and he stared silently for what felt like hours.

He finally reached out to lift you, hoisting you up onto the counter. Max gently tugged your shirt back down. “That’s certainly one way to say thanks.” He kissed your lips, and then went back to cooking, leaving you to sit there. “Quit distracting me.” You both laughed.

—

DANIEL RICCIARDO - DR3

Danny always went all out for you. He pulled out all the stops, and that included date night. You were at the highest rated restaurant in all of Monaco currently— The waitlist was months long, but Danny managed to weasel his way into an earlier reservation. You didn’t know how to show your thanks.

When he left to quickly use the restroom, you got to scheming. You couldn’t just repay him with sex, because you did that anyway. It had to be something new— Something that surprised him. He had all the money in the world, so gifts were a lost cause. What did you get for someone who had nearly everything?

When he returned, you had an idea in the back of your mind. You were both securely tucked away in the corner of the restaurant, with your back to the rest of the room. He sat down, giving you a quick smile before picking up his menu again. There was lots to look at, but the menu wasn’t your biggest concern.

“Danny,” His head snapped up at your voice, and his jaw dropped. You had quickly pulled down the neckline of your dress, and your boobs popped out. He leaped over the table, careful to not knock anything over, and pulled your dress back up to cover your chest.

“Woah!” He settled back down, eyes still wide. “In public? Baby you know I love your tits, and it was a great surprise, but maybe we should keep those for my eyes only.” You laughed, straightening your dress out.

“Alright, alright. I just wanted to surprise you.” You winked, and he huffed a dramatic sigh, his hand over his heart.

“You certainly surprised me.”

—

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

Even if it was meant to be silly, and he’d never admit it, the nickname ‘Lando Nowins’ had weighed heavily on your boyfriend’s performance. He really loathed it, and was practically seething every time someone dared to call him the mean name. It started way back when you guys first began dating, meaning that throughout his Lando Nowins era, you were still there to support him.

Years ago you made a promise with him that once he made it to P1, you’d flash him while he was up there. Now, in 2024, you were certain he had forgotten that silly little deal, which would make it all the more fun considering he’s just finished first in the Miami Grand Prix. He was already ecstatic with his win, unable to completely process the glory.

You waited until he made it to the top step, holding up his trophy with a victorious stance. Then, as his eyes locked with yours, you made the move. You grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it up, only for a split second, but he for sure got a view of your breasts.

He suddenly fell silent, a look of disbelief on his face as Charles and Max sprayed him with champagne. Nobody but him noticed, including the thousands of people watching from the stands. That was a moment for just him, displayed to the public.

He snapped out of it and joined the others in his celebration, but he couldn’t seem to get the image of your topless body out of his mind.

He found you in his drivers room afterwards, and immediately pushed you back up against the door, pulling your shirt up just enough to slide his head underneath, followed by your giggles.

“Did you forget about that promise?” You asked, holding back your laughter as he buried his face between your boobs.

“I did, and I’m glad I did.” He hummed, breathing you in. “A pleasant surprise.”

—

CHARLES LECLERC - CL16

Charles was in one of his slumps lately. Ferrari had not been performing to his liking, and it was taking a toll on his mental state. It was obvious with the way he moped around the house, usually cuddling with Leo in silence.

You tried various things to cheer him up. You offered to go on a walk with him and Leo, made his favorite food, put on his favorite movie— Everything. You even tried terrible jokes, which usually just made him pity laugh. You finally decided to pull out your trump card— Something you had been saving for dire situations. You planned on using it to get out of an argument, or persuade him into doing you a favor, but this was more important.

You approached him during one of his moping sessions. He was sitting on the couch watching TV, that same frown that’s been haunting him the past week ever so present. You stood right in front of him, blocking his view. As he looked up, you pulled your shirt up, effectively flashing your tits.

He couldn’t help but smile, a laugh leaving his lips as he covered his eyes with one hand. “Mon ange, what are you doing?!”

“Cheering you up,” You replied before putting the hem of your shirt between your teeth, and climbing on his lap. He lowered his hands to your hips, staring down at your chest without shame.

“It worked. It definitely worked.” Yeah, you could feel that it worked.

—

YUKI TSUNODA - YT22

Yuki was not a morning person. It took forever to get that man out of bed, and then for the following thirty minutes he’d just complain about how he wanted to go back to sleep. Eventually he’d shut up and carry on with his day, but the whole ordeal was no fun for either of you.

“Yuuuukkki, wake up.” You were sat on your knees hunched over him, shaking his side. He groaned, grabbing his pillow and putting it over his ears— Acting like a drama queen, that’s for sure. “Yuki, it’s time to wake up! Quick, there’s a fire in the house!” No response. This guy had zero survival instincts.

You tried for probably another five minutes, using various tactics to wake him up. You even tried wafting the smell of his favorite food in front of his nose, but it didn’t work. You were finally starting to give up, deciding he could just sleep some more, when you suddenly remembered his greatest weakness: Your boobs.

“Yuki, my tits are out-” You were gonna finish your sentence by saying ‘you have to wake up to see’ but he immediately sat up, staring directly at you. You sat on your knees on the bed, your pajama top lifted to reveal your chest.

“I’m up.”

“I can’t believe that worked…”

—

LEWIS HAMILTON - LH44

Lewis was a guy who loved nature. He was always dragging you along on hikes, despite the fact they weren’t your favorite thing. He wanted to share his passions with you, and since racing wasn’t something you could quickly join in on, he figured hiking would be just as good.

You complained half the time, but then would be super ecstatic when you came back, like it was the best hike of your life. He didn’t really get your weird way of showing enthusiasm, but he found it entertaining nonetheless.

Today, you were extremely tired, but Lewis just kept pushing the limit. Every time you’d stop to catch your breath, he’d tell you “just a bit further.” Every. Single. Time.

You finally got sick of his nonsensical behavior, and decided to give him a reason to turn around. You stopped, taking a moment to catch your breath before calling out to him. He turned around to face you, and then you quickly lifted your shirt, leaving him speechless.

“Can we turn back now?” You asked as you lowered your shirt, leaning over to continue with your deep breathing.

You could hear him swallow, loud as hell. “Yes. Yes we can.” Good use of free will.

—

CARLOS SAINZ - CS55

You actually had a good reason for this. Ever since the move to Williams, Carlos hadn’t been feeling quite like himself. He was struggling with the major downgrade, even with the immense amount of support he was receiving. From you, from his new co-workers, from the fans. It certainly made the blow less harsh.

He just kept getting in his head about things. He wasn’t the smooth operator anymore— He was just your average racer, trying to drag a less than perfect car to the finish line. You could tell he wasn’t suffering on the track, so you chose to surprise him.

One day you came home a little later than normal, and he greeted you with a confused expression, along with his normal forehead kiss. “Where were you?” Coming home late typically meant you were running errands, but your hands were empty.

You didn’t give a proper reply. Instead, you lifted your shirt. Your breasts spilled free, but that’s not what he was focused on. Nestled between them was the number 55– His number. He melted on the spot, grabbing your hips.

“Do you like it?” He nodded, unable to say anything. He leaned down, but you gently pushed his head back. “I just got it done, so no kisses there.”

“Fine,” He grumbled begrudgingly, instead opting to kiss both breasts tenderly. “Your support means everything to me…”

—

GEORGE RUSSELL - GR63

Your boyfriend was always without his damn shirt. At home, after races, on his instagram— The world got to see his abs. At first you were always startled when he paraded around your home without a top on, but eventually it became part of the norm.

You could only wonder how he’d react if the roles were reversed. What if one day you just started to walk around with a shirt or bra? The curiosity got to be too much, so one day when you excused yourself to the bathroom, you stripped down to just your pants, letting everything up top hang loose.

You came back, flaunting yourself as if it were nothing abnormal. George noticed immediately, his eyes shamefully staring at your assets as your strutted by. He kept his firm gaze, jaw clenched and all, trained on you. Finally, he couldn’t keep silent anymore and addressed the elephant in the room.

“What are you doing?” You bit back a laugh, turning around to face him. He didn’t seem to mind, but it was definitely out of the ordinary.

“You walk around shirtless all the time. I just wanted to join.” He nodded thoughtfully. He didn’t even seem that fazed by your behavior.

George shrugged, “You got me there.”

—

OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

Oscar Piastri was a gentleman at heart. He knew you were a capable person, but he always held doors open for you, pulled your seat out, offered you his jacket— Everything. He wasn’t stuck up about it, though. If the roles happened to be reversed, he’d politely accept your kind behavior.

Oscar is the type of guy to ask you if you want to come back to his house at the end of the date because he sincerely just wants to continue being around you, not because he’s looking for a quick fuck. He was the perfect guy— You, on the other hand, were his more devious match that paired with his gentlemanly demeanor perfectly.

He could tell you had something up your sleeve all night, because you were abnormally giggly. He just didn’t expect it to quite literally be up the sleeve of your jean jacket, which topped the nice dress you wore to the date nicely.

“A gift for you,” You held out a small photo, face down for him. He raised a brow, and hesitantly took the polaroid picture from you. His cheeks flared up in a bright red cover and he quickly laid it back down on the table, covering it with his hand.

“Why do you have that?!” It was a photo of you, wearing only a pair of heels and his racing helmet. You laughed at his dramatic reaction, sliding the photo back into your own grasp.

“Did you not like it?” You asked, faking a pout as you tucked it back into your bra.

“Well- Obviously I did, but why-?!” He shook his head, laughing at your antics.

“Why not?” Evil laughter ensued.

[gtgbabie0]

hi beautiful! could you do pre-crash!lottie head cannons similar to your wildness!lottie one? thank you! :)💐

⋆⁺ ✮⋆⁺ Pre-Crash!Lottie Matthews x Reader

synopsis: {relationship headcannons after getting rescued from the wilderness} warnings: 18+ at the end.

AN// so sorry this took months, I hit a bit of a mental block. hope you enjoy <3 we will all ignore that I mixed up post and pre here— I can’t anymore.

♡︎ The pair of you were inseparable out in the wilderness, attached to the hip, then you got rescued, and things took a complete one-eighty for both the better and the worse.

♡︎ You had tired to desperately to stay with her, to stop them from taking her away but you were only met with a bunch of legal jargon that made little to no sense to your already fragile mind— instead you made a promise for both your sakes to get better so hopefully you’ll see her once again.

“It’ll be okay Lot— we’ll be okay.” You murmur the same words as she did to you, hands clasped tightly around her own as if to tether yourself to her. Lottie wouldn’t blink so much, let alone talk, not even a peep. “I’ll write to you every day,” and before she was whisked away, her fingers tightened the tiniest bit around your palm— a feeling that lingered for months.

♡︎ Lottie would read and reread those letters almost every single day and in return you’d get a few replies throughout the months telling you all about her week and such— a back and forth of longing, all those scribbled, “I miss yous” “I love yous” the paragraphs where she’d describe how desperately she wanted to see you, hug you and all the things she wanted to do when she was released. It gave you the strength to keep up with your own therapy and umpteen doctor appointments.

♡︎ Seeing you for the first time in months nearly took the poor girl out— hell, it almost brought you to your knees. Watching her rush over to you, dropping her bag and throwing her arms around your shoulder as if she was finally coming home after a long trip.

“You’re here, you really came,” and despite everything, it was still her. The same girl who’d paint your nails and do your makeup, who’d hold your pinky beneath tables and admire you from across the classroom. “Course I am, I promised.” You only dare to pull back an inch, hands cupping her face as she stares up at you with deep, brown, glossy eyes.

♡︎ Lottie found it really hard to settle in at first, she would have bad days like anyone— but sometimes these days would be really bad, often turning to weeks depending on the circumstances.

♡︎ There were times when she wouldn’t talk, words wedged in the back of her throat, her face just a blank expression, like she was light years away— swept up in her own mind. You always kept close to her, gently brushing your fingertips along the back of her hand to let her know you were still there, softly whispering reassuring words to her. Then, eventually, you’d get a small smile or she’d wordlessly reach out for you, slowly coming back to reality.

“Oh, there she is.” you tease her at the sight of her smile widening at your tender touch, although there was relief in your eyes that was unmissable, and she’d respond with a soft, “I never left.”

♡︎ You would learn her triggers quickly— straying away from loud noises and any sudden movements or anything else that might cause her to retreat back into herself.

♡︎ Lottie’s medication kept her afloat for the most part, although it didn’t prevent nightmares that felt a little too familiar. Warped memories that have been engraved into her mind, coming back to haunt her until she’s jostling from her sleep with a ragged, almost pained gasp— a noise just shy of a scream that would wake you immediately.

“Hey, Lottie— hey, hey.” your tone slightly rough from sleep as you slowly push yourself up, hands gently reaching out to cup her teary face, grounding her. “You’re okay, you’re safe, Lot.” you would try to soothe her, wiping away her tears and guiding her breaths as she clings to you with a sob. “You’re home, baby, you’re home.”

♡︎ Those nights were spent watching late-night television, holding her close to you and playing with her hair until she either fell back asleep or the sun rose.

♡︎ She would feel awful about keeping you up at ungodly hours of the night because her mind decided to take an unwanted trip down memory lane.

“You can go back to sleep, I’ll be fine,” she murmurs, face tucked beneath your chin, words muffled against your collarbones as her arms tighten around you. “Not until you’re okay,” and Lottie knew it was a losing argument; you were stubborn when it came to her.

♡︎ Pampering was a must— whether it be morning or night or the whole day. Sometimes the pair of you just needed the rejuvenating and what better way to do so then to spend hours looking after each other.

“You’re so pretty,” Lottie's voice was just shy of a whisper as her fingertips ever so gently caressing the apple of your cheeks. “Yeah, even with this ridiculous face mask on?” You smirk, and she replies with an eager nod, leaning forwards to steal a kiss from your lips. “Mhm, especially with the face mask on, honey.”

♡︎ Lottie loves to keep busy with you in any and all ways possible— all that time out in the wilderness made you forget the fun parts of life like baking together, arts and craft nights, fruit picking during the summer and going to the local pumpkin patch during the autumn. She had a list of all the things she wanted to do written in her journal.

“I’m never taking it off.” Lottie beams, her deep brown eyes watching you gently clasp the bracelet you had made around her wrist— a perfect fit. “Thank you, baby.” She’s all giddy, and it makes you giddy as she leans over to press a kiss to your cheek.

♡18+ from this point♡

♡︎ It would take a while for Lottie to be comfortable getting intimate again after everything she had been through— not to mention her medication affects her sex drive.

♡ ︎Lottie enjoys it slow and loving— open-mouthed kisses along her jaw and neck and tender hands tracing over her curves, really gets her going— after all she loves to be adored.

“I’ve got you, just relax f’me.” your words muffled into the crook of her neck as you brush a lingering kiss against the underside of her jaw— her hands grasping at your shirt, unable to stop herself from moaning. “Mm, please— I want you closer.” her back arches up into your touch as your mouth descends her body.

♡ You often took the lead to begin with, but it was she who was in full control— you were at her every command and she trusted you completely, trust was a really big thing for Lottie.

♡ On those nights where one of you would wake up from a terrible nightmare and needed to be close— to feel the thrum of the others' steady heartbeat and the heat of skin against skin, you would bathe together— that’s how you’d both come to find a deep appreciation for it. You would buy bath soaks and oils, all that jazz, just for those special occasions.

“Pretty girl.” Lottie's voice was as soft as silk, her arms wrapped around your waist as she sits behind you in the bathtub— her face pressed into the crook of your neck, kissing along the dewy skin of your shoulder. “How’re you feeling now?” her question is met with a small whimpering noise from the back of your throat as you lie back against her chest, her hand slipping between your thighs. “I’m here, baby, just relax.”

♡ Once she was more comfortable, she wouldn’t mind initiating things, wanting to make you feel just as good as you made her feel— it wasn’t a hard job considering she remembered your body like the back of her hand, where to kiss and push and bite.

♡ Experimenting with Lottie was fun— a shock at first when she suddenly came to you one night all shy and red in the cheeks, stuttering, but once she explained, you were all in, and eventually this left you with quite a nice collection of vibrators and strap-ons.

♡ Lottie's strap game is crazy— like in the mind-numbing type of way that leaves you feeling her inside you for days after. And she’s so vocal too, whether she’s giving or receiving. It always leaves you aching for more of her.

“There you go pretty girl, take it all f’me.” or "Such a greedy girl, taking me so deep, huh?" as she’s fucking you into the mattress, hands grasping your hips, moaning like she can feel you cum around her strap. I need her.

[secretlyazombi3]

hallo!! (๑'ᵕ'๑)⸝* ⋆ ⁺ ₊

i'd like to request a royal reader x knight!leon smut, if it's totally okay + within your comfort zone! i'm leaning towards a more submissive leon here, he's a man of a few words and typically doesn't chat a lot with people he isn't close with but he's reaaaallyy whimpering and whiny with reader when he gets his world rocked, much to their pleasant surprise :3 some overstimulation and praise thrown in would be nice too if you'd like hihiii

-🍮

⌞⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ Armor .ᐟ⌝

leon kennedy x afab! reader

๋࣭ ⭑⚝word count:  3.9k ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ NSFW !!!, 2nd person, leon is a bit subby, reader and leon r both desperate for each other, unprotected (as always, pls don’t do that), riding, a bit of overstimulation + praise, ‘forbidden’ in a way, leon is implied to be a bit older, squirting

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ summary: Your knight in shining armour catches you trying to sneak out past midnight. 

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ a/n: HII 🍮TYSM FOR THE REQUEST ! :3 sorry i’ve been slow on writing, i’ve had writer’s block and been busy w school (i have finals coming up soon :c) but my requests r still open and i’m working on the requests i have ! ty all sm for the support :3 <3 sorry if there r any errors !

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You stood against the wall, mostly covered in shadow as you watched everyone on the floor of the great hall, all dancing and having a good time. Your arms were crossed as you puffed a bit until your knight approached you. 

He was a calloused man, very quiet, very protective of you. His parents ordered him to follow you around like a damn lost dog to make sure you were safe at all times, despite being an adult. Your parents always babied you and affected how Leon treated you. Like some sort of damsel in distress. He’d always try to dismiss it with some comment about how important it was for your parents to have an heir to the throne or whatever. You didn’t really care about it; it was just bullshitting excuses to keep you from living your life. 

“May I go now?” you asked him as you eyed the dancefloor. Your parents were hosting the yearly Spring Ball at the castle again; this was your first year you were actually allowed to attend the damn thing. Every past year, your parents had insisted that you were ‘too young’, and they were only ‘trying to keep you safe’. Of course, to an extent, it was reasonable, but that didn’t make it totally justified. Everyone at the ball had been personally invited, and the other knights were at the front of the castle approving each guest, so it wasn’t like there were any real threats they were worried about. You knew the real reason - they didn’t want you meeting anyone from outside the castle walls. 

Your parents never explicitly stated it, but you were sure that you were going to be packaged into an arranged marriage one day. They didn’t want anyone less than perfect to sit beside you on the throne one day, so it’d likely be someone they’d trust and someone who knew how to rule over a kingdom. 

Leon nodded his head at your question, grunting out a quiet “yes”. You moved away from the wall and towards the crowd of others before Leon gripped your wrist and pulled you back. “Not so fast.” he started. 

You squirmed a bit out of Leon’s grip, despite it being gentle, all while Leon spoke to you in his usual cold, monotone voice. “Your parents want me to keep an eye on you the whole evening.”. He didn’t wait for your reaction before he sighed, he already knew you’d be upset. 

“I’m not a child; I don’t need to be babysat.” You replied as Leon’s grip finally faltered and you headed off to the mass of people dancing together, only for Leon to follow after you. Typical. That man acted like a baby duckling following their mother duck. He was practically chained to you. Couldn’t your parents see that you didn’t need to have some helicoptering over you at all times?

You hurried away from the corner, not wanting to spend any more of the evening alone in the corner. This was your first time ever attending a dance, after all, and you were going to make the most of it.

Every girl in the palace was all dolled up in ruffle-covered dresses and fancy up-do hairstyles that accentuated their facial features. All the men were dressed up in fancy suits, detailed with gold, tailored specifically for them. It was your first time seeing everyone up close like this, so you took a moment to admire every detail. 

“You just going to stand there staring, pretty thing?” a man asked you from behind, making you turn around. It was some guy you’ve never seen, you hadn’t a clue what relationship he had with your parents that let him get invited, but you didn’t care. He was cute, and you barely ever got social interaction with anyone besides the knights and the maids here. 

He took your hand and offered you to dance, and God, how could you refuse such a pretty face? Time had gone by rather fast; the lack of windows nearby did not aid your blindness to the time. You hadn’t been able to see the sun fall past the horizon and the moon begin to take its place. You wiped your forehead clean of all the beads of sweat that had accumulated from spending so much time dancing in a hall packed with so many other people. Leon had just been standing a few feet away, just watching… Guy probably had nothing better to do, you thought. 

“Are you going to be attending that, uh, afterparty for this ball tonight? The one east of the village?” the man you’d been dancing with had asked you once you two had paused for some air and water. 

“Huh?” you replied, tilting your head a little. It was your first time hearing about anything of that sort. 

“The king- or, your dad, I mean… his friends host an after-party of sorts. Lasts from dusk till dawn. Are you coming?” You hesitated before replying. You hadn’t even heard about it, probably because your dad knew that you’d want to go if you had known about it. And your parents would never let you outside the castle walls during the night. Even if Leon came to chaperone you. 

“Ah-” you started, stumbling over your words until you felt a large hand prop onto your shoulder. Turning to look back, you saw Leon moving to stand beside you. He leaned down a bit closer to you so he could talk just softly enough for you to hear. “Your parents want you back in your quarters by midnight. It’s five past.” he said to you quietly. 

“God damnit, I’ve got a bedtime now too?” You replied as you glanced at Leon, then back at the man you’d been dancing with, dying to kiss all night. Years of being cooped up behind castle walls made you desperate. 

Leon didn’t respond, his expression as unamused as always. The man hadn’t cracked a smile at all the whole night, it was honestly depressing. He was a dedicated knight alright. He had the opportunity to dance with anyone he wanted to - admittedly, he was quite handsome. But instead, he spent the hours just standing there, watching you have the time of your life simply because your parents told him to. 

Leo had a firm grip on your arm as if he were anticipating you’d try to flee with the guy you’d just met - yeah, you were desperate, but not that desperate. 

You paused for a moment, trying to think of how to reply. You didn’t want to cut the night short, you knew there was a zero percent chance you’d ever see this guy ever again if you did. But you felt Leon beginning to tug on your arm, insisting that you two leave. 

“I’ll see you soon, okay? I’ll… I’ll find a way.” You replied before reluctantly walking away with Leon. It was somewhat less pathetic than letting him drag you away. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The past hour or so, you’d been keeping the closest eye on the status of the Spring Ball you could form inside your room. You’d waited a full hour to hear the music from the grand hall to stop, and you did, you’d heard the liveliness of the dance slowly die out like a flame being extinguished. 

You still waited a few moments until you were sure most of the castle had been put to rest. By now, most of the staff would have returned to their quarters and gone to bed, right? You were sure it was safe to make your move now. Sneak out. You knew it was super risky, but you were also desperate. Desperate to something not controlled by your parents. Desperate to see that man. You hoped that of all people to be arranged married to, it’d be him. Maybe that was because you’d had little interaction with many men before this, but you were head over heels. 

You took a lantern in your hands and exited your room, quietly tiptoeing down the corridors of your quarter. The halls weren’t too dim thanks to some moonlight peering in through the windows. 

You weren’t exactly sure where this after-party was, all you knew was that it was east of the kingdom, meaning you’d have to move toward the moon for guidance. You could probably ask around to try and locate a specific manor it’d be held in. 

You were only a few feet down the hall, just a little bit away from the round staircase tower you’d need to go down to reach the exit, barely away from your bedroom before you saw Leon approaching you from the dark. “Shit.” You muttered to yourself. Of course, you should’ve expected this. Leon had dark circles under his eyes, the guy never slept, and he was there when you told that man, you’d find a way to get to that party. 

“Come on now, back to bed.” Leon said simply in his gruff voice as he gestured to your room, his movements still somewhat stiff thanks to his armor that he was still wearing. He knew your plan; he didn’t even bother heading back to his quarters to change. He’d probably been waiting right there at the end of the hallway since he’d insisted, you’d go to bed. 

You stuttered out a reply, trying to talk your way out of it, make up some lie that you just wanted a midnight snack or something, but Leon saw right through your bullshit. He held your wrist again and brought you back to your room. 

“Your parents would be so disappointed.” Leon said, his tone sounding like he was scolding a naughty dog. 

You sat down on your bed, glancing out the door to the balcony. Climbing down would’ve been a more viable idea than trying to leave out the main exit. 

You crossed your arms and puffed out a sigh as you looked down at the floor. “I know.” you replied simply. 

“I’m not going to tell them, though, don’t worry.” Leon added as he gazed down at you. 

“That’s a shocker.” you mumbled out.

Leon tilted his head at that comment, he raised an eyebrow. That was probably the most expressive you’d ever seen him before this moment. 

“Why’s that?” he asked. 

“You’re so loyal to my parents, you do every damn thing they tell you to. You spent the whole night standing against a pillar and watching over me like a stalker just because that’s what they ordered you to. Could’ve danced with any pretty girl or guy in there you wanted to.” You replied as you looked up at him, standing up to look him in the eye. 

His expression softened slightly, lips moving upwards although it wasn’t entirely a smile. Not yet at least. 

“You think I did that just because your parents asked?” he asked you, sounding somewhat amused. It wasn’t usual for Leon to be this expressive, even though now he was still barely showing any emotion. 

“Yeah, why else would you do that?” You asked, still looking up at Leon. You felt his hands gently brush against the side of your neck. He wasn’t very touchy - at least, not like this. You were used to him grabbing your wrist whenever he wanted to keep you in sight, but this? “I… I wanted to dance with you.” he admitted, his words coming out with a sigh, his voice still as soft and gentle as ever. 

You were puzzled by that response. Surely, he was joking. Surely, he didn’t actually mean it, he didn’t actually have feelings for you. 

All your thoughts became a messy blur as you felt his lips crash against yours and pull back just as fast. His cheeks were slightly pink, he looked more embarrassed than anything. 

“Sorry,” he apologized. He felt like he’d done something dirty. He was your knight, hired to protect you, not to fall for you and kiss you without at least asking first. What happened to his chivalry? Leon revoked his hand from your neck, looking down as if he were ashamed. “No, it’s fine.” You assured him, wrapping your fingers around his hand and gently guiding his hand onto your cheek. “Don’t apologize, I… I liked it.” 

All these years you’d longed for a man had turned you desperate. Tonight, you’d been willing to sneak out alone in order to go see one. All this time, you’d had a man head over heels for you right in your reach. Perfectly attainable. You just didn’t realize it. 

How could you? Leon was quiet and reserved. Tonight was the first time you’d seen his face change from an always annoyed one to literally any other emotion. How could you have known? 

Your head was flooded with thoughts, the rational part of your brain was drowning in all the thoughts yelling at you to kiss him again. You were so, so desperate. You pulled Leon in for another kiss and felt him wrap his large arms around your waist, kissing you sloppily. Clearly, he was as desperate for you as you were for him. You pulled him onto your bed, underneath the frame with the pretty canopy, resting against the cushioned headboard.

You sat on his lap; he pulled away from the kisses and gasped. The armor he was wearing was probably the worst thing he could have a boner in. He shifted around uncomfortably and bit his bottom lip to keep himself from moaning. 

“Fuck.” he grunted, out of breath. 

“What is it, what’s wrong?” you asked quietly, as if you were scared your parents would hear. You knew logically they wouldn’t - their quarters were across the whole damn castle. You could moan like a slut all you wanted all night long and they’d still be resting peacefully, not a clue in the world you’d been up fucking your knight. 

“I’m-I’m hard...” Leon admitted, audibly embarrassed by his situation. You pulled back a little from his lap, allowing him to pull off his bottoms desperately, tossing them aside. 

Despite your room still being dim, the only light source coming from the moonlight sneaking its way in through your sheer curtains, you managed to see the large bulge in Leon’s boxers, a few tiny wet spots from some pre-cum. 

Leon had been waiting to fuck you for what felt like forever. He’d been head over heels longer than he’d like to admit, and he’d spent more nights in his private bathroom pumping his cock with his fists while staring at pictures of you than he’d like to admit. 

You felt yourself begin to drip in your panties at the sight. You were horny, you were so fucking horny. You hadn’t felt the touch of a man ever. At least, not like this. And you were just desperate to experience this intimacy. You longed to feel a man’s cock inside you, as embarrassing as it was to admit. Leon removed the chest plate armor on him, tearing everything off of him like a wild animal. Like he couldn’t contain how bad he wanted to fuck you. You did the same, you stripped down on your bed until you were just in panties. 

You took a moment to admire Leon’s body all while he admired yours. He’d seen the outline of your body when you’d worn tight clothes in the past, but you were a thousand times sexier than he could’ve imagined. He felt his dick throb as his eyes fixated on your nipples, your pretty tits… 

You’d never seen Leon in anything other than that stiff armor, so you had spent the years completely unaware that he’d been jacked this whole time. His arms were toned and muscular, not to mention his abs… where did he even get the time to work out when he spent so much of his time watching you. 

“So fucking hot...” you whispered to Leon as you felt on his abs, feeling his happy trail brush against your hand. Leon let out a pathetic whine at the touch. 

He stared up at you. He’d been working here to protect you. He was working with your parents; he agreed with them that he’d protect you. But he’d gotten too close to you, and now… He couldn’t help his feelings. Even though he knew he should do anything but fuck you, even though you seemed so willing for his dick, he couldn’t help himself. You were the forbidden fruit he just couldn’t resist. 

Leon gently grabbed your hips, his grip on you gentler than ever. You gently grinded against him, rubbing your clothed pussy against his dick that was still restrained by his boxers. 

“Oh fuck, don’t we need protection? We should use some, right? I-” Leon stuttered, his face visibly becoming more and more pink with every word that he let slip from his lips. “Fuck it, it’s fine, I just want you… I-I need this.” you stuttered out desperately. It was almost cute how desperate you two were for each other, in a pathetic way. 

You peeled down the fabric of Leon’s boxers slowly, a smirk crawling on your lips as you watched his hard cock spring out excitedly, the red leaking tip desperately begging for your pussy. 

You gently slid down your panties, down past your ankles before tossing them aside, not caring about where they’d land. 

Leon’s face was bright pink at this point, he was resting back against the headboard as you gently stroked his cock, sizing him up mentally, imagining how good it’d feel when you finally felt this long dick inside you. Leon whimpered as he felt your soft fingers wrapped around his shaft, moving up and down at an agonizingly slow pace. 

“Please-” he gasped out, his tone abnormally whiny. He looked at you with puppy eyes, silently begging you to stop teasing and just bounce on his cock already.

You leaned closer to him and gently kissed him before positioning yourself on top of him, his tip right at your entrance. You whined as you slowly lowered yourself down, feeling his dick slowly slide between your legs. He felt incredible.

Leon was already hot and sweaty just feeling you on top of him, seeing your face contort with pleasure as you took his dick inside you. 

“So… so fucking tight…” he grunted out between desperate pants and gasps for air. Leon shut his eyes as he leaned back, staring up at your ceiling as he tried adjusting to the sensation of your tight walls practically milking his cock. 

You were whining loudly, not used to the sensation just yet, but after a second you managed to quiet down. 

“Feels so fucking good…” You moaned quietly as you placed one hand on Leon’s cheek. You leaned back slightly and sighed, taking in a few deep breaths before beginning to push yourself up and down, bouncing on Leon’s dick. 

Leon’s whimpers grew louder with each bounce; his eyes clenching shut for a few moments as you rode his dick. He was never one to be vocal in any situation, but now? He couldn’t stop the moans and whimpers that were escaping his lips. He was moaning like a whore. 

God, this felt wrong. He was supposed to protect you, keep you safe for your parents, now encourage you to ride him raw. But God, it felt so right, and your parents didn’t need to know about your fun time with your little knight. 

“Ah... ah… Leon...” you breathed as you kept bouncing on his cock at a steady, somewhat swift pace, your pussy desperately clutching onto his dick, not wanting this moment to even end. 

Your hand moved down Leon’s cheek as you admired his beauty. His eyes were welling up with tears, ashamedly. Leon’s dick was so sensitive, he hadn’t fucked a real pussy in years, this just felt so damn good to him. 

Leon moaned your name desperately as you leaned forward to kiss him, wanting to soothe his tears. “You’re doing so good… you feel so fucking good in me, Leon...” You moaned out, not bothering to quiet yourself. Leon’s eyes were glued to your chest, enjoying the way your tits bounced with each movement.

You were progressively getting louder and louder as you kept riding. Leon gripped your hips a bit tighter. “Your pussy feels amazing, baby…” Leon grunted out quietly, some tears beginning to slip as he felt his balls tighten up slightly in anticipation of an orgasm. 

Poor boy had been trying to hold it in this whole time. He’d been leaking precum since you pushed him onto the bed. If he wasn’t trying to wait for you to cum with him, he would’ve come while you were stroking him.

“You’re doing this so well, ah, fuck...” he added, his eyes shutting involuntarily as you moved your hand up and down his abs, your touch was intoxicating. “You ride so damn good…” he whispered to you, his hand rubbing your side. You began bouncing a bit faster, feeling his tip occasionally brush against your spongy spot. You moved your fingers down, gently rubbing circles into your clit.

“Ah! Fuck!” you squeaked as you felt his tip finally slam against your spot, making your whole-body twitch with pleasure. Leon felt you clench around his cock, causing him to whine out as his hips involuntarily bucked up into you, his tip pressing deeper into your spot. 

Leon bit his lip as he felt more tears leak, his vision blurry as he looked up at you. You wiped his tears as you kept bouncing on his dick. “So fucking good, you’re going to make me cum, you feel so good…” you breathed.

“Fuck… so tight, so wet, so perfect I- I’m gonna cum..!” Leon gasped out, his hips thrusting up involuntarily and beginning to stutter as he watched you squirm. You leaned your head back, squealing desperately as you felt yourself peak, squirting warm juices all over his abdomen. Your head was fuzzy, and you were dizzy in the aftermath of your orgasm. God, you didn’t even know you could squirt. Who knew Leon’s dick was all it took? 

Leon tightened his grip on your hips, forcing you down and still as he came, releasing his hot seed deep inside you. He sat there for a few moments before finally relaxing back down onto the bed as you pulled off of him, his cum dripping from between your legs. 

“Oh, fuck, baby… I should’ve pulled out, ‘m so sorry…” Leon said quietly as he gently rubbed your back. 

“It’s fine…” you assured him, your lips gently pressing against his neck as you rested against him. You were both sweaty, laying together in your bed as you pulled over the fluffy comforters to cover up your guys’ nude bodies. 

God, your parents would be pissed if they found out. If they knew the man they hired to protect their precious kid, heir to the throne, had fucked them raw in their bed in the castle they all lived in. And they’d be upset at you, too, for developing a relationship with someone that wasn’t arranged. The other staff would talk. The knights would be shocked that one of them had been so bold to do such a thing. The maids wouldn’t be happy having to clean up your bed. 

But right now, that didn’t matter. All that mattered to you was lying down next to a man who loved you; something you’d been wanting for forever. 

[thequietkid-moonie]

Powerful and chaotic child!reader gets enrolled in Night Raven Collage

[ PLATONIC HEADCANONS ] [ Lilia, Malleus, Sebek & Silver ]

[ Twisted Wonderland ]

× Inspired in Skull kid & The Majora's Mask (from The Legend of Zelda Majora's Mask)

I made a small hint about the titans who are the first friends of Skull kid, hope you no one mind (nothing too explicit sooo you can picture it however you want)

i been wanting to write something like this FOR THE LONGEST TIME!! AND ITS FINALLY HEREEE!! IM ON TEARS!!

Help i can't unseen Lilia and Malleus as Tael and Taya--

The ceremony entrance of this year was going rather smoothly, just having to face the already expected problems of every year's ceremony, however there was something that were catching the attention of those who get to witnessed, this year between the new students there was one that was attracting more attention than others, one that looked a bit too short (perhaps a Dwarf was enrolled in school this year), one who's cloath was a bit too big, covering almost all their short figure, leaving just enough view of their excited smile that sees to not being leaving anytime soon, swinging their small legs on the chair that was just a bit too big

Once it was your turn to face the mirror and be designed to a dorm with the same smile you jumped out of the chair, somehow managing to don't trip over the oversized cloth you were dragging on the ground while also walking with small little jumps, all eyes following your childish way to walk, some even judging you for it, but no one dared to say anything

The silence were only interrupted by the dark mirror, recognizing your childish nature but also the ancient magic that reside inside of you, the great power you hold over something so dangerous, concluding that the best option for you was to be send to the Diasomnia dorm

The shock and doubt barely had time to be build between the students as a high and childish voice was quick to interrupt, with curiosity and getting even close to the Dark Mirror you began to ask more about what this Diasomnia thing was, ignoring the whispers that started to form all across the room or even the stares

The ceremony needed to continue but you simply were not hearing anyone so the moment you were called out for being disrespectful over the ceremony by the Heartslabyul housewarden it was when you finally look back, the cloth finally falling from your face after being a bit too excited while talking to the Dark Mirror, leaving everyone in the room even more shocked than before since you were a human, and a human who barely is half the age of the rest of the students

Concern and demands of an explanation didn't take long to reach Crowley, how was he going to let not only let a child be enrolled in the school but also be send to Diasomnia!? But Crowley just excuses himself with what the Dark Mirror said, you hold a ancient and great power in you, already being able to use part of its great strenght and you needed to be instructed to have that power under control before you would become a threat, and he was so kind to accept take responsability over you since you didn't had no one else

But, at the end, it was the way Crowley explained the situation and the fact that you were still too young that most of them simply underestimated the situation, still thinking that letting the child go to Diasomnia wasn't the best idea, but it isn't like they would contradict the Dark Mirror or go out of their way to willingly take responsability over you, but no matter what Diasomnia recived you with open arms (or at least some of them) and after a while of having you around it become quite obvious why you were in this dorm

It didn't took long before Lilia noticed that you, indeed, had a great power but you have never been learned how to properly used it despite being able to use magic like if it was the most natural thing in the world, you were using it in the most childish way posible, what could be quite dangerous for others, so at the end he was the one who willingly took you under his care (he is not stranger of raising kids after all) and with that everyone else quickly accepted you in this big family (not that they wouldn't, but Sebek was having serious problems when you didn't gave much importance to Malleus' title once he became your friend)

Despite the skepticism of the rest of the school it took no time to notice you around the school always clinging to the side of any of the Diasomnia students, most of the time following Lila around the school, who actually found it quite adorable and even indulge it a bit most of the time, after all you were still too young, and not to mention that you two were now partner in crimes, you just loved pulling pranks in others and Lilia just could say not to that (specially because of the big smile and your so cheerful laugh)

Still, once Lilia learned how sad you were because your old friends (the ones who were taking care of you for a little while) had to left you to be able to fulfill their own responsibilities he took he time to help you understand that they didn't left you under the care of NCR because they didn't cared for you, quite the contrary, and with thay he also took time to make sure you understand that probably you will meet other who would also had to leave at some point, and how it is better to enjoy the time you have with them instead of regretting that they have to go

Sometimes you were also found hanging out with Silver around the campus, it become not so weird to see you two napping under a three (your small frame curled up again him, with one of his arms around you as if it was a blanket), or sometimes you weren't sleeping and instead you were playing around and trying to catch the animals that, somehow, he always attracts

Since you were a first year student Sebek was constantly walking you to class, taking the time to remind you to behaive and don't do anything that could affects Lord Malleus' reputation, even if you two had to go to diferent classes he took the time to scort you to make sure you made it safe and to keep the lecture of how important was for you to behaive as the respectable Diasomnia student you were

Although there were times you choose to run away from him jump around the hallways and run towards the classroom, wanting to get there before him because it was funny! (and you wanteded to avoid his ranting about Malleus), wich always make him feel exasperated, conflicted how bad would be from him about just run in the hallways, but he did anyways, always running after you while screaming (wich most of the time left a bad impression of the situation or just annoyed the poeple around)

In all honeslty, Silver doesn't mind much you presence, he even likes it but he doesn't know if he finds funny or annoying the constant fights you have with Sebek, you are all that aren't expected from a Diasomnia student and Sebek wasn't having any of that, while you just answered by telling him that he was boring and sticking your tongue, making him angrier in the process (it has to be either Malleus or Lilia who stop you two, otherwise you argument won't stop)

Lilia was your unofficial dad main mentor, the one who was actively trying to help you learn how to control your magic and learning about life, still he wasn't the only one who was there for you, now you were part of the big family the have become, you wouldn't be left behind ever again

You didn't feared Malleus, he was just the tall guy with horns in your dorm, and he was genuinely surprised (specially because you still were a really young human) but it wasn't unpleseant, he hesitated a bit because you were just too small but quickly you two became friends, wich leaded you to cling to his side whenever you could, even following him during his night walks or just hearing his rants about Gargoyles (for what you understand they were like important guardians, and that reminded you to your old friends! That was why you were always hearing him rant)

Malleus probably didn't realiced how much he grow to like your precense, he saw a lot of himself in you and because of that he grow quite caring and protective for you, he wanted to be for you what Lilia was for him, he wanted to teach you what he learned and to be there when you had no one else (altought, he was still quite young compared to Lilia, so he was a bit clumsy while trying to be a good example for you)

Everyone quickly grow to love you and care for you in their own way, they were making you happy and helping you a lot with learning how to use your magic (even when you don't like being scolded or interrupted when you just wanted to play) they became like your family and that couldn't make you happier! Despite the concern or how weird your other friends from other dorms thought it was you wouldn't change them for anything

[cbeargyu]

hi! can i request a story with nct Mark like the movie Flipped, I just love the "she fell first, he fell harder" trope. Y/n is so persistent about showing Mark how much she likes him. Since everyone knows her crush on Mark, the others tease him, which annoys him at some point & told y/n off. Hurt, Y/n kind of distanced herself for a while. During those times she got closer to another member (maybe jeno or haechan), which then makes Mark even more annoyed, not realizing he's actually jealous. Angst slow burn w/ a happy ending. I'm sorry if it's too detailed 😅 -☕️ anon

the years that I loved you

summary: you've been secretly in love with mark for years, but he's always kept his distance, even though you've grown closer over time. after a failed attempt to move on with jeno, you realize you can’t forget mark. slowly, mark starts to notice his own feelings for you.

pairing: mark x fem!reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers, slow burn romance, angst, one-sided love, fluff, college au, drama, confessions of love, she fell first but he fell harder trope.

warnings: mentions of unrequited love, emotional tension and angst, heartbreak, love triangle, public embarrassment/confessions, self-discovery and emotional growth.

wc: 12,9k

notes: anon, did you read my drafts or what? because i had this exact idea written down, even with jeno as the romantic interest omg hahaha but i never finished it because i got lazy lol, i'm not really into watching movies, so when i searched for the one you mentioned, i thought i’d have to research it to be able to write about it, but then i remembered i watched it about two years ago haha, looking for inspiration exactly, what a nice coincidence anon, i hope you like what i write <3

you were thirteen when you realized mark lee wasn’t just your brother’s best friend.

he was the boy with soft eyes who always greeted your mom with a polite smile, the one who helped your dad carry groceries without being asked, the one who laughed with jaemin until their stomachs hurt and then turned to you—quiet, awkward you—and asked if you wanted to join them at the convenience store.

he noticed you. always.

and god, that was dangerous.

you kept your secret like it was sacred. folded it between pages of your diary, whispered it into the pillow late at night when your chest hurt with the weight of wanting someone who would never be yours. he was two years older. already shining, already so good.

you thought maybe—just maybe—he was too good to break your heart.

you waited until his last day of middle school. you had written the letter three times, burned one, hid another. the final version trembled in your hands as you gave it to him behind the school gate.

“please don’t read it here,” you said, not meeting his eyes.

“i won’t,” he promised, gentle as ever. “don’t worry, okay?”

and you believed him. you always believed him.

but the next afternoon, he asked to meet you behind the gym.

it was quiet. too quiet.

you remember the way he scratched the back of his neck, the way he couldn’t quite look at you when he said, “you’re really important to me. like a little sister, you know?”

you smiled, because you didn’t know what else to do. you smiled as your eyes blurred.

and then you cried—ugly, shaking, childlike sobs you couldn’t hold back.

he tried to hug you, but it made it worse.

he said, “i’m sorry.”

he said, “i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

he said everything right.

but it didn’t matter.

because you were thirteen, and he was mark lee, and you had just learned that love doesn’t always mean something back.

high school didn’t make it easier. if anything, it made everything worse.

you tried. god, you really tried to move on—swallowed the ache, buried it deep under textbooks, sketchbooks, extracurriculars. you learned to walk past him in the hallways without letting your gaze linger too long, learned to smile politely when he said “hi” like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t held your broken heart in his hands behind the gym that day and handed it back to you gently, still cracked.

but the problem was: mark never changed.

he was still that boy—soft-spoken, warm, radiant. the kind of person who made you want to be better just by existing near him. and worse, he was always there.

your house, once a quiet place of safety, had become a second home for jaemin’s band of loud, chaotic friends. most days, the living room was full of snacks, game controllers, and laughter. renjun’s sarcasm echoing through the hall, haechan draped across the couch like he owned the place, chenle’s laugh piercing through every door, jisung awkwardly trailing behind them with his phone glued to his hand. and of course, mark. always mark.

sometimes he’d be in the backyard with your brother, their laughter drifting through the window while you did homework at the kitchen table, pencil trembling slightly every time he called your name to offer you a slice of pizza or a bottle of soda. sometimes he’d walk past you in the hallway and lightly ruffle your hair like he used to when you were twelve, before he knew how deeply you felt for him. before you knew what it meant to love someone who couldn’t love you back.

he still smiled at you like you were made of sunlight. still hugged you during holidays, still handed you wrapped presents on your birthday with that same soft voice: “happy birthday. i hope you like it.”

you hated how much you always did.

you hated how his scent lingered on the gifts long after you’d hidden them at the back of your closet. you hated how you still looked forward to seeing him, how your chest still fluttered when he said your name, how you felt thirteen and stupid every single time he was near.

but the worst was that he didn’t seem affected at all.

to him, nothing had changed. to you, everything had.

one rainy afternoon, you came home early to find the living room empty for once—blissfully silent. you kicked off your shoes, soaked to the ankle, hair damp and cheeks flushed from running back from school before the storm broke harder. you turned the corner to grab a towel from the laundry room when you saw him.

mark was there.

he stood by the window, alone, watching the rain. his hands were in the pockets of his black hoodie, hair slightly messy, lips parted in thought. he looked older. softer. like the kind of boy who belonged in a novel, not real life.

he turned when he heard your footsteps and smiled without hesitation. “hey,” he said, like it didn’t hurt, like your heart didn’t still beat for him in every goddamn way.

“hi,” you managed, holding the towel tighter against your chest.

“you’re drenched,” he said, walking toward you. “you’ll catch a cold.”

he was too close. you could smell the citrus of his shampoo, the faint vanilla of his cologne. when he reached out to brush a wet strand of hair from your cheek, you flinched—not visibly, just enough for him to stop, hand frozen mid-air.

“sorry,” he said, withdrawing. “force of habit.”

you shook your head, stepping back. “it’s fine.”

but it wasn’t. nothing ever was.

you escaped upstairs before your voice could betray you.

two weeks later, you found yourself sitting in the second row of the school auditorium, knees bouncing under the dim lights, your palms cold against the fabric of your skirt.

mark was playing romeo.

you’d heard about it from jaemin, of course—how their teacher insisted he was perfect for the role, how he’d been rehearsing every afternoon, how the girl playing juliet had been a little too eager during practice.

and now, here you were. watching him on stage under golden light, speaking lines you knew he barely even had to memorize—his voice calm, lyrical, achingly beautiful. his every movement was precise, full of emotion. he touched juliet’s face like it was made of glass, like she was something sacred.

you hated her.

she smiled when he held her hand. she leaned into him during the balcony scene. you saw her lips part just before the final act, the tension thick in the air as mark cupped her face. and then—slowly, tragically—he leaned in.

his lips brushed hers. soft. slow. real.

your throat closed.

your chest twisted so violently you thought you might get up and run. but your body stayed rooted in place, forced to watch as they collapsed together on the floor in a mock death, fingers intertwined, her head resting on his shoulder.

the applause was thunderous. everyone stood.

you did not.

you waited until after the show to find him. your feet carried you to the back hallway of the auditorium like they had minds of their own. your heart was a drum, wild and panicked.

he smiled when he saw you—still dressed in costume, hair tousled, sweat glistening on his brow.

“did you like it?” he asked, laughing softly. “i was so nervous.”

you looked at him. really looked.

“i still like you,” you said.

just like that.

no warning. no buildup. no sugarcoated version.

you were tired of pretending.

he froze. his smile dropped.

“i thought… i thought you were over it,” he said quietly.

“i wanted to be,” you whispered. “but i’m not. and watching you up there—watching her kiss you—i couldn’t pretend anymore.”

he looked down. exhaled slowly. ran a hand through his hair.

“you know i care about you,” he said gently, “but not like that. i’m sorry...”

same words.

same ache.

different year.

his hands lowered slowly, as if he suddenly didn’t know what to do with them. his breath grew deeper, slower. he was about to say something. you were going to let him speak. but before he could, you stepped forward, close enough that he had no choice but to truly see you, to hear you, to feel the heat of your words.

“i don’t accept it.”

mark blinked. “what?”

you were trembling on the inside, but you didn’t back down. “i won’t accept a no. not yet. i’ve been in love with you for as long as i can remember, mark. and yeah, maybe you’ll never see me the way i see you. maybe you’ll never feel the same. but i’m not giving up. because i can’t. even if you ignore me, even if you keep looking at me like i’m just jaemin’s little sister… my feelings for you aren’t going anywhere.”

the silence was a wall between you. thick. breathless. mark didn’t know where to look. his jaw clenched slightly. but you saw it—how hard he swallowed, the way his throat bobbed like your words had tied a knot in it. and then… that little flush, that faint blush coloring his cheeks.

he didn’t respond. he just dropped his eyes and muttered something you couldn’t quite catch before saying he had to get back to the guys.

you stayed behind, again. but this time, something was different.

you weren’t broken.

you were alive.

the days after that were… strange.

you didn’t hide anymore. you didn’t avoid looking at him, didn’t steer away when he came into your house, didn’t pretend it didn’t still ache. if you saw him, you greeted him with a soft smile. if he made a comment, you replied with one slightly sweeter. if you were near, you allowed yourself to lean in ever so slightly, as if pulled by something invisible.

mark said nothing.

but he noticed.

and everyone else did too.

renjun was the first to ask—just a casual afternoon in the backyard, you laying on a blanket with a book, the boys talking nonsense as usual. it happened right after mark came back from the kitchen and handed you a water bottle without you asking, like he already knew you’d need it.

“are you guys, like… a thing?” renjun asked, half-joking, half-serious.

mark laughed awkwardly. “what? no. of course not.”

but you looked up from your book, calm, almost proud.

“i like mark,” you said. not shy, not hesitant.

the silence was immediate.

haechan stopped chewing his gum. jisung stared at you like you’d grown horns. chenle let out a choked “wait—seriously?” and jaemin… jaemin looked at you like he’d just uncovered a secret that had always been in plain sight.

mark tensed. his hand around the empty bottle clenched slightly. he didn’t look at you. but you looked at him.

“i like him,” you repeated, voice steady. “i don’t know if that’ll ever change. for now, it hasn’t.”

the air shifted, thick with something unspoken. jaemin cleared his throat.

“wow… okay, didn’t see that coming.”

mark let out a nervous chuckle. “seriously, there’s nothing going on.”

you smiled softly. “not yet.”

and that was that.

they tried to go back to talking about something else, but the topic hung in the air like perfume—sweet, heavy, impossible to ignore.

after that day, the looks between you and mark carried weight. not just because of what you felt, but because now everyone knew. his behavior became more cautious, measured, like every move might be misread, like every glance might be taken the wrong way.

but he still looked at you.

he still smiled.

sometimes, he still sought you out without realizing it.

and you…

you kept loving him, even when it wasn’t a secret anymore.

valentine’s day hit the school like a storm.

the halls were dripping in pink and red, balloons bumping against lockers, the air thick with the scent of cheap chocolate and desperation. you weren’t immune to it—if anything, you were worse.

you had spent the night before in your kitchen, standing over a counter covered in baking disasters, painstakingly melting chocolate, shaping little hearts by hand, writing stupid tiny notes on colorful slips of paper. you stayed up until almost three in the morning, ignoring your mother’s concerned looks, all for one boy.

mark lee.

you didn’t half-ass it either. no. you went full force.

you woke up at five a.m. on valentine’s day, backpack bursting with gifts, heart pounding with something between excitement and fear. the moment you got to school, you made a beeline for his locker. you stuffed it full—letter after letter, pink and red envelopes practically exploding out of the sides. every letter started the same way, "dear mark, i really really like you," and got progressively more unhinged as you got sleepier. one of them ended with a doodle of you two riding off into the sunset on a giant gummy bear. you didn’t even regret it.

and then, the chocolates. you had them in a heart-shaped box you decorated yourself, glitter peeling off the sides. you snuck into his classroom early, your hands shaking, and dumped them right on top of his desk—pile after pile of messy, misshapen chocolate hearts, each one lovingly wrapped in plastic and tied with curly red ribbon.

it wasn’t subtle. it wasn’t graceful.

but it was you.

when mark walked into class later, you watched from behind the doorframe like some kind of deranged cupid. he stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the mountain of candy and cards like it might explode. his friends started laughing—haechan howling loud enough to draw attention from other classrooms, renjun pretending to cry from how beautiful it was, jisung muttering “bro’s got a stalker” under his breath while chenle recorded everything on his phone.

mark didn’t get mad.

he didn’t yell.

he just... looked so painfully polite about the whole thing, his bright smile twitching at the corners, his ears turning an adorable shade of pink. he stood there, awkward, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes scanning for an escape route.

you chose that exact moment to spring.

you practically bounced up to him, heart hammering, face on fire, and blurted out in front of everyone, “mark! i like you! a lot! like, a lot a lot! like, marry-me-under-a-rainbow kind of a lot!”

you didn’t know where that last part came from. you regretted it immediately.

mark laughed. this soft, helpless little sound that made your chest ache. he looked at you—really looked at you—and for a second, you could almost believe he was touched. or maybe just very, very overwhelmed.

"thank you," he said gently, voice a little strained. "you’re really sweet. but—uh—i think... we should just stay friends, yeah?"

you nodded furiously, tears pricking at the back of your eyes, but you smiled through it because you were determined not to make it worse.

"friends! sure! but, like, if you change your mind... i'm available. permanently."

haechan choked. chenle dropped his phone from laughing too hard. renjun whispered “oh my god, she’s serious,” like he was witnessing a car crash in slow motion.

mark gave you a look, half grateful, half pleading, like he was begging the universe to save him from this situation without hurting you. he patted your head—your actual head, like you were a golden retriever—and hurried to clean up the mess you’d left.

the rest of the day, every time you crossed paths, you beamed at him and chirped "i like you!" like it was a greeting. he’d flinch slightly every time, force that damn brilliant smile, and respond with a tiny nod or a mumbled "thank you..." before speed-walking away like his life depended on it.

it became a running joke. teachers started asking him about his “secret admirer.” students left fake valentines in his locker just to mess with him. he took it all in stride, patient and painfully kind, but you knew deep down it was wearing him out.

still, you couldn’t help it. you were in too deep.

when the final bell rang, and you caught him stuffing all your letters into his bag like he was trying to hide contraband, you grinned so wide your cheeks hurt.

maybe, you thought, love didn’t have to be perfect to be real.

even if it was one-sided. even if it was a little ridiculous.

your heart still beat for him. and for now, that was enough.

you followed him to university without a second thought.

not because you were obsessed. not because you were desperate.

maybe it sounded crazier when you said it out loud, like some reckless teenage daydream you should have outgrown by now, but in your heart, it had always been simple. wherever mark went, you wanted to go too. so when he decided to major in literature at a university two cities away, you didn’t hesitate—you applied to the same program, you studied harder than you ever had in your life, and when that acceptance letter came, you clutched it to your chest and cried, thinking it was fate smiling at you.

you convinced yourself that it was a new beginning, that maybe, somehow, away from the crowded hallways of high school and the well-worn patterns of rejection and affection, things could be different. you could be different. you could be the kind of girl he might actually look at twice.

but reality wasn’t a fairytale, and no amount of shared classes or accidental brushings of hands across desks could change the fact that mark had drawn a line in the sand years ago—and he wasn’t about to cross it.

still, you stayed close, orbiting him like a stubborn, quiet moon, your love for him woven into every choice you made, every dream you dared to have.

he was still kind. still soft-spoken and careful with your heart. he’d pull out chairs for you in lecture halls, lend you his notes when you were sick, laugh at your dry jokes when no one else did. he still bought you birthday gifts—carefully wrapped, always with a little handwritten note in his neat handwriting. still hugged you every christmas. still remembered your favorite snacks and left them on your desk when you were cramming.

but he never crossed the line.

mark lee was a boy of boundaries. polite, good, respectful. especially with you.

especially because of jaemin.

the others —haechan, chenle, renjun, even jisung—had started making comments. light teasing when mark waited for you outside your dorm. when your fingers brushed as you passed him a pen. when he remembered things you said in passing and brought them up weeks later.

“just date already.”

“you’d make such a cute couple.”

“jaemin would murder you, but worth it.”

but jaemin never laughed. he’d stare straight ahead, jaw clenched, eyes hard.

“it’s not happening,” he’d say flatly. “drop it.”

and mark—mark would just smile and shake his head.

“we’re just friends.”

always the same line. always gentle. always final.

and still, you stayed. because a piece of you still hoped. still wondered if maybe, maybe, something would shift.

until summer.

that was when everything changed.

it started small.

mark smiling at his phone when he thought no one was looking. mark turning down movie nights, saying he was “tired” or “busy.” mark humming under his breath as he walked across campus, like he couldn’t help it.

he looked… lighter.

brighter.

and he wasn’t looking at you.

you found out by accident.

a lazy sunday. mark had left his phone on the coffee table in the shared dorm lounge while he went to grab snacks. a message popped up, screen lighting briefly.

“can’t wait to see you again 💛” from: yerim 🍒

kim yerim.

a girl from another department. bright, confident, everything you weren’t.

you blinked at the message like it was written in another language. your throat tightened. your hands went cold. you couldn’t look away.

when mark came back into the room, smiling like he always did, you could barely breathe. he didn’t notice the way your gaze dropped. or maybe he did, but he didn’t say anything. just offered you a packet of chips like nothing had changed.

but everything had.

by the time the others found out, mark and yerim had been quietly seeing each other for nearly two months.

the teasing stopped.

no more jokes. no more comments. just a strange, heavy silence.

even haechan kept quiet. only once, after a long night out, he said it in a low voice—when mark had gone off to call her, when everyone else was half-asleep on the floor.

“you’d be better for him.”

you looked up. your eyes were wet. you hadn’t even noticed.

haechan’s gaze softened. “but he’s not ready to see that, huh?”

you didn’t answer.

because what was there to say?

you’d loved mark for so long it had become a part of your identity. it was in the way you walked, the way you chose your classes, the way your heart lit up every time you saw him laugh.

but he was never yours.

and now, there was someone else who made him laugh. someone he looked at like that. and the worst part?

he looked happy.

genuinely, radiantly happy. the kind of happy that couldn’t be faked.

so you smiled too. you congratulated him. you listened to him talk about yerim with soft eyes and careful words.

and when you were alone, you cried into your pillow, biting down hard to keep the sound in.

because this wasn’t betrayal. this wasn’t a lie. this was just love—one-sided, unchanging, and devastating.

you didn’t blame him.

you just didn’t know how to stop loving him.

you weren’t sure when yerim began to notice.

maybe it was the way you went quiet whenever mark entered the room. maybe it was how your eyes never quite met his anymore. or maybe it was something deeper—something only another woman could sense. a kind of residual ache, the ghost of something that used to be almost something.

she never confronted you. never threw it in your face.

but her gaze lingered.

a little longer than necessary. a little too perceptive. especially when mark spoke your name.

and mark—he started choosing his words more carefully. his laughter dimmed around you, like he didn’t know how to act anymore. like being near you was stepping into a room still filled with the scent of a fire long gone out.

you weren’t mad. you were exhausted.

your chest carried the weight of every second you’d spent wishing for something that never existed outside your imagination. you’d painted a fantasy in your mind and clung to it like a lifeline, and for what? he never promised you anything. never kissed you. never called you “mine.”

he was just… kind. and you were just stupid.

so when you met lee jeno, it was like inhaling after drowning.

he was part of the sports science department—tall, tan, always wearing that damned sleeveless hoodie like he knew the effect it had on people. he had this cocky little smile and a voice that made you pause. and god, he was smooth. but not in a sleazy way.

jeno was bright in a way mark never was. he didn’t hesitate. he didn’t overthink.

he noticed you from the first time you sat across from him in a shared elective. you were sketching half-distractedly, and he leaned over with that grin that stretched from ear to ear.

"you always draw like the world’s ending tomorrow?"

you blinked up at him, startled. "excuse me?"

he just laughed. “you’re good. i like intense girls.”

you rolled your eyes. but he didn’t stop talking to you after that. he’d walk you to class, show up with energy drinks during finals, and compliment the color of your nails like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

and one day, without drama or overthinking, he just asked:

“go out with me.”

no hidden meanings. no caution. just jeno, smiling, offering you something real.

you hesitated.

you thought of mark. of his careful hands, his lingering warmth, the smile he used to give you before it all got awkward. but that was the thing—it had gotten awkward. broken. distant. he belonged to someone else now. he never belonged to you.

so you said yes.

after weeks of holding onto a secret that was slowly tearing you apart, you finally decided to give jeno a chance. you couldn’t keep pretending like mark didn’t already have your heart in his hands, even if he didn’t want it. you couldn’t keep letting your feelings for him dictate everything, so when jeno, the charming and confident guy from your physical education class, asked you out one day, you hesitated.

you hesitated for a long time, thinking of how many times mark had walked right past you, never once acknowledging your heart, never once looking at you in a way that made you feel more than just his friend’s younger sister.

but this time, it was different. jeno was persistent, and there was a spark in his smile that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could move on. so, after a long conversation with yourself and an even longer discussion with your heart, you said yes. but you weren’t going to drag jeno into something he wasn’t prepared for, so before you agreed to anything, you told him the truth.

“i’ve been in love with someone else for so long,” you admitted, your voice soft, vulnerable. “and i don’t know if i can just let go of that... but i want to try. i want to try with you.”

jeno smiled at you, and his eyes softened, like he understood. “i know,” he said, his voice steady. “i’ve seen it. but i’ll do my best to make you forget about him. i’ll do everything i can so that you only look at me the way you looked at him.”

it wasn’t a promise of forever, but it was a promise to try. and for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could start anew. so you accepted, feeling a little lighter, but still carrying the weight of what had once been.

the first few days were like walking on air. jeno was easy to be around—funny, charming, the kind of guy who made you feel like you mattered. when you walked around campus together, everyone noticed. people were happy for you, the long-lost couple that everyone was rooting for. but mark? mark looked like he had swallowed something bitter.

mark had never been good at hiding his feelings, and even if he tried, yerim saw right through him. it had been a few weeks since you and jeno started dating, and mark’s behavior was becoming more noticeable by the day. his lingering stares, the way he would look at you and jeno when you walked into a room together—yerim had seen enough. she had been patient with him, but there was only so much a person could tolerate.

you caught him looking at you and jeno one too many times, his eyes narrowed and his lips set in a firm line. it made you uncomfortable, the way he would glance at you, then at jeno, like he was calculating something, weighing something in his mind. but you didn’t think much of it until the day he pulled you aside after a class, his face clouded with something unreadable.

“hey,” he started, his voice softer than usual, though there was still a bite to it. “i don’t think jeno is good for you.”

you blinked, startled. “what do you mean?” you asked, confused, but also feeling a knot tighten in your chest. why was he saying this now? after all this time?

mark rubbed the back of his neck, looking uneasy. “i mean... you’re my friend, and i care about you. i just don’t think he’s the right person for you. you deserve better than him.”

you could feel your heart racing. “what do you know about what’s good for me or not?” you replied, your tone sharp. “you’re not my... you’re not my anything, mark. i don’t need you to tell me what’s best for me.”

he frowned, a flicker of guilt crossing his face, but he didn’t apologize. instead, he sighed. “i’m just looking out for you, okay? you’re... important to me.”

the words stung more than they should have. important to him. you let out a bitter laugh. “important to you? you’ve barely noticed me for years, mark. don’t try to pull that with me now.”

his face shifted, caught somewhere between frustration and something else that you couldn’t quite place. “i’m serious, okay? just... be careful with jeno.”

before you could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, feeling more confused than ever.

but things didn’t stop there.

it wasn’t just that mark had said what he said—it was the way he started acting afterward. jeno was around, and whenever jeno was around, mark seemed to get this look in his eyes, like he was watching you two, trying to figure out something that wasn’t adding up. he started showing up more, always offering you little things, always asking if you needed anything. he would bring you your favorite coffee between classes, or linger a little longer than usual when he saw you and jeno walking together.

you noticed it. everyone noticed it. especially yerim.

it was one afternoon in the student lounge when yerim couldn’t hold it in any longer. “mark,” she said, voice tight, “you’re doing it again. you’ve been acting like this... like you’re in love with her.”

mark froze, caught in the act of watching you laugh with jeno. he opened his mouth to deny it, but yerim didn’t let him. “don’t even try to deny it,” she continued. “you’re constantly around her, always looking at her like you want something more. you’re jealous every time jeno is near her.”

mark looked at her, eyes wide with shock. “i’m not—i mean, no, that’s not it.”

“really?” yerim’s voice was sharp now. “because it looks like it. you’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

the words hung in the air like a weight neither of them could lift. mark’s face went pale. he opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out at first. then, slowly, he shook his head, almost as if to convince himself.

“no,” he muttered. “i’m not.”

yerim stared at him for a long moment, her expression a mix of disbelief and something more profound. “mark... you can’t just keep pretending you don’t care about her. you’ve been doing it for years, and now you’re pushing jeno away like this. stop lying to yourself.”

he didn’t say anything. he just stood there, looking at you as you laughed with jeno, the smile on your face not quite reaching his eyes anymore.

it was the last straw when mark once again casually mentioned your name while they were eating lunch together, and yerim couldn’t hold her tongue any longer.

“mark,” yerim began, her voice quiet but firm. “i can’t keep doing this.”

mark looked up from his phone, confused. “what do you mean?” he asked, trying to mask the tension in his voice.

“this,” she motioned between the two of them, the table between them feeling like a chasm. “your obsession with her. it’s becoming impossible to ignore, and frankly, i’m tired of it.”

he blinked, shocked by her bluntness. “what are you talking about? i’m not obsessed with anyone.”

“oh, really?” yerim’s eyes narrowed, her tone ice-cold now. “because every time i bring something up, you somehow find a way to tie it back to her. last week, we were talking about your plans for the summer, and you—” she paused, shaking her head as if in disbelief, “you brought her up. again. you’re not fooling me, mark. it’s always about her. i’m starting to think you’re not really here with me.”

mark opened his mouth to argue, but yerim held up her hand, stopping him mid-sentence. “no. don’t try to lie to me. you’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

the words hit him like a punch to the gut. he looked away, unable to meet her gaze. a flash of memories flashed in his mind—those moments when your name slipped out of his mouth without even thinking, how he’d catch himself whenever he accidentally mentioned you during their time together.

he remembered the time they were having a casual dinner at a restaurant and he had jokingly said, “y/n would love this dish.” yerim had paused, her fork mid-air, her eyes narrowing. but mark quickly covered it up, offering a distracted smile, as if it didn’t mean anything. another time, they were walking through the campus, and he had said, “this place reminds me of something y/n and i used to do.” yerim had looked at him, confusion and hurt crossing her face, but mark had just shrugged it off. it wasn’t anything, he assured her. just memories of a friendship.

but yerim wasn’t stupid. and she was done pretending she didn’t see it.

“you’ve been so distracted, mark. and i’m over it,” yerim’s voice grew stronger now, the anger finally coming through. “you don’t have the right to string me along while you’re still hung up on someone else.”

mark’s heart raced in his chest, the weight of her words sinking in. he couldn’t deny it anymore. yerim wasn’t wrong, and he hated himself for it. “i didn’t mean for it to be like this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just... y/n... i never meant to hurt you.”

but yerim wasn’t having it. she was proud, and she recognized her worth. her eyes flashed with frustration as she stood up from the table, throwing her napkin down with a sharp motion. “it doesn’t matter what you meant, mark. what matters is that you’ve been leading me on, and i’m done. i’m not going to sit here and pretend everything’s fine when you clearly can’t even give me your full attention.”

mark stood up too, his voice soft, almost pleading. “yerim, please don’t—”

“no, mark. i’ve had enough. i need someone who’s here for me, not for someone else.” she turned to leave, but stopped at the door, her back still to him. “think about it, mark. because if you’re not careful, you’re going to lose both of us.”

the door slammed shut behind her, and mark stood there in silence, feeling the weight of her words settle in. but before he could process what had just happened, his phone buzzed in his pocket. he pulled it out, and there it was again—your name, flashing on the screen.

a flood of memories hit him all at once—the late-night talks with you, the way he had always put you on a pedestal, and how, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. he couldn’t stop caring about you. yerim had been right. it had been you, always you.

but that wasn’t all. as he sat there, the memories of his time with yerim also came flooding back. the times she’d gotten upset with him for talking about you too much. he had brushed it off, saying it was nothing, just casual references. but deep down, he knew he was never really there for her. not the way she deserved.

a sharp pain twisted in his chest, and he realized something—yerim had always been more than just a girlfriend to him. she was a distraction, a way to cover up the hole in his heart that he refused to acknowledge. but now, everything felt different.

it was supposed to be a day of fun, something to make you forget. jeno had planned a trip to the amusement park, hoping that the laughter, the rides, and the sweet cotton candy would distract you from everything that had been weighing heavily on your heart. he was always there for you, attentive and sweet, trying his best to make you feel special. his hand never left yours, and he had a way of making you feel like everything was going to be okay, even though you weren't sure it ever would be.

but as the day went on, the fun rides, the silly carnival games, and even jeno’s bright smile couldn’t keep your thoughts from drifting back to mark. you tried so hard to push them away, to focus on the moment, on the person beside you who was giving you his all. jeno was perfect. he was patient, kind, charming in ways that made you laugh without even trying. but no matter how much he tried to pull you out of the hole you’d fallen into, mark was still there, lingering in your heart like a shadow you couldn’t escape.

it wasn’t until you were sitting on a bench near the Ferris wheel, looking out at the glowing lights of the park, that the dam finally broke. tears blurred your vision, and for the first time in a long while, you let them fall. jeno’s hand gently cupped your face, his thumb wiping away the first tear, and then another, as his soft voice reached your ears.

“hey,” he murmured, his eyes filled with concern and something deeper, like he already knew what was happening. “what’s going on?”

you shook your head, struggling to find the right words. “i... i’m so sorry, jeno. i thought i could... but i can’t. i can’t stop thinking about him.” your voice cracked, and the sobs you had been holding back spilled out. “it’s not fair to you. i feel like i’m using you, but i can’t... i can’t let go of mark.”

jeno stayed quiet for a moment, his hand still resting on your cheek, tender and warm. he didn’t look hurt, not the way you expected him to. instead, his eyes were filled with understanding, the kind of understanding that made your chest ache even more.

“you don’t have to apologize,” he said softly, his voice steady and calm. “you can’t force yourself to move on, y/n. you can’t just push those feelings aside because you want them to go away. i know that. i won’t ask you to stop thinking about him, or to stop loving him. but you need to realize that you’re only hurting yourself by holding onto something that might never be.” he paused, giving you a moment to absorb his words, his thumb tracing your cheek slowly. “if you’re not ready for this, if you’re not ready for me, then it’s okay. we can stop here.”

his words cut deeper than you expected. you looked at him, and in his eyes, you saw nothing but kindness, the kind of person who would never push you, who would never force you to be someone you weren’t. but that only made it harder to bear. jeno was giving you his everything, and yet, your heart was somewhere else.

“jeno...” you whispered, your voice shaking, “i’m so sorry. i wish i could just... let go. but i’m not ready for this. for us. i thought maybe... maybe i could love you. but i can’t stop thinking about him. and it’s not fair to you. you deserve someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

jeno smiled at you, but it wasn’t the smile of someone who was happy. it was a smile tinged with sadness, a resignation that seemed to come from a place of understanding rather than disappointment. he took your hand in his and held it firmly, as if to reassure you that it was okay.

“i knew,” he said quietly, his voice soft but sure. “i knew this wasn’t going to be easy. and i’m not mad at you, y/n. i’m just... i’m just glad you’re being honest with me.” he gave your hand a squeeze. “you don’t have to force anything. if you want to keep holding onto mark, then do it. if that’s what you need to do to move on, then i won’t stop you. i want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me.”

you blinked back more tears, unable to find the right words. jeno’s face was full of hurt, but also full of understanding, and you hated yourself for not being able to give him what he deserved. you loved jeno, you really did, but your heart was still anchored to mark, and nothing was going to change that just because you wanted it to.

“i don’t deserve you,” you said through a broken sob, the guilt overwhelming. “i’m sorry, jeno. i’m so sorry.”

“don’t apologize,” he said again, his voice steady and soothing, despite the sadness that lingered there. “just think about it, okay? take your time. but don’t stay in this place forever. don’t let yourself be stuck on someone who can’t give you the love you deserve.”

you nodded, unable to speak, and jeno, ever patient and kind, pulled you into a gentle embrace. his warmth was comforting, but it also reminded you of the hole in your heart that mark had left behind.

you could feel the weight of his words, the truth in them sinking deeper than anything you had ever felt. he wasn’t going to hold you to something that wasn’t real, and you hated the fact that it took you this long to realize it. jeno wasn’t just someone you could use to fill the gap mark had left. he was someone who deserved to be loved completely, and you weren’t capable of giving him that.

as you pulled away, you could see the understanding in jeno’s eyes, and it was that very understanding that made the pain in your chest grow even stronger. jeno wasn’t going to hold onto something that wasn’t meant to be. and maybe, just maybe, that was the hardest thing for you to accept.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered again, your voice small, broken. “but i think i need to try with mark. maybe... maybe he’s the one i’m meant to be with.”

jeno smiled again, but this time, it was bittersweet. “then go for it, y/n. do what you need to do. i’m not going anywhere.”

and just like that, you knew. you had your answer. but the question now was whether mark would ever feel the same way.

the days at university dragged on, each one more suffocating than the last. you had your friends around you, and yet, you felt like you were drowning in the same sea of unresolved feelings. it was a strange comfort to be surrounded by people, but their presence didn’t erase the emptiness you felt inside. mark’s presence lingered everywhere, like a ghost. even in the cafeteria, you couldn’t escape the feeling that something was missing. his silence, his avoidance, it was all becoming too much to bear.

one morning, as you sat at a table with your friends, a subtle shift in the atmosphere caught your attention. mark had arrived late, as usual, and took a seat at the opposite end of the table, his gaze distant, his face blank. the usual chatter buzzed around you, but there was an unmistakable tension in the air. the others seemed to sense it too, noticing how quiet everything had become since the both of you had entered the room.

haechan, always the one to try and lighten the mood, leaned back in his chair, his grin wide and teasing. “so guys, what’s going on here? someone want to spill the tea?” his tone was playful, but there was an edge to it that made it clear he wasn’t fully joking.

you felt your stomach twist, but before you could respond, mark shifted in his seat, his fork tapping against his plate. the room grew unnaturally quiet, the teasing atmosphere fading into something more uncomfortable. mark’s voice broke through the silence, his tone so flat it was almost impossible to read.

“yerim… she broke up with me,” mark said, the words coming out without any emotion, almost like he was just stating a fact. it wasn’t a confession or a cry for sympathy, just an acknowledgment of something that had happened.

the table fell completely silent. everyone, even haechan, froze, unsure of what to say. it was as if the air had thickened, and no one dared to move or speak for a moment. you kept your eyes fixed on your tray, unable to meet anyone’s gaze, though you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at mark from the corner of your eye.

he was eating his breakfast now, like it was just another normal morning, his face emotionless. but you could see the small, almost imperceptible signs of tension in his posture. his shoulders were a little more rigid, and his hand gripped his fork a little tighter than usual. but he said nothing more, and the others didn’t press him for details.

renjun, ever the curious one, broke the silence by shifting in his seat and looking directly at you. “what about jeno?” he asked, his voice soft but probing.

the question hit you harder than expected. it was like everyone had just been waiting for you to talk about it, to explain what had happened between you and jeno. you hesitated, biting your lip as you considered how to respond.

“i… i ended things with jeno,” you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended.

chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. what? you were just starting to get into it. why would you stop now?”

you shrugged, feeling a lump form in your throat. “i wasn’t prepared for what he needed.”

another silence filled the room, heavier this time. you could feel their eyes on you, but you didn’t dare look up. the tension in the air was suffocating, and you could feel it building up around you like a thick fog. it wasn’t just the conversation that was uncomfortable—it was everything that had been left unsaid. the way mark kept his distance, the way you couldn’t stop thinking about him, the way you couldn’t shake the feeling that things were never going to be as simple as they once were.

you stole another glance at mark, your heart tightening at the sight of him. he was still eating, his movements slow and deliberate, but you could tell he was aware of the conversation. the slight tightening of his jaw, the way his eyes flicked toward you for a fraction of a second—it all spoke volumes. but he said nothing more. he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. he wasn’t going to chase you or beg for your attention. it was always like this with him, wasn’t it? he had this way of making you feel like you were the only one who cared, while he remained distant, unreachable.

as you sat there, feeling the weight of the silence press down on you, you realized that maybe you weren’t the only one who had been avoiding the truth. maybe mark was doing the same thing. maybe he, too, had been holding back, pretending that everything was fine when it wasn’t.

and then, as if on cue, mark glanced up at you. his eyes met yours for just a moment, and for the briefest of seconds, you saw something in them—something raw, something vulnerable. but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the same mask of indifference he wore so often.

you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling the ache in your chest, the pain of wanting something that wasn’t yours to have. you didn’t know what this meant, what the silence between the two of you meant. but it hurt. it hurt in ways you couldn’t explain.

suddenly, mark stood up, his chair scraping against the floor, and without a word, he grabbed his tray and walked away, leaving the table in stunned silence once again. you didn’t know if it was his way of shutting everyone out or if he was simply tired of pretending that everything was fine.

haechan glanced at you, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion. “well, that was... something,” he muttered.

but you didn’t respond. you couldn’t. all you could do was sit there, surrounded by your friends, but feeling more alone than ever before. you didn’t know what would happen next.

but you did know one thing: nothing was going to be the same again.

mark never liked to admit it, but the words yerim had said earlier echoed in his mind like a loud, unwanted reminder. "you're in love with her, aren't you?" he couldn't shake it. the way she confronted him, the certainty in her voice, it felt like she was peeling back layers of something he didn’t even know he was hiding. he tried to brush it off, told himself he wasn’t like that—he couldn’t be. you were his friend, his best friend’s sister, and he had always kept a distance for a reason.

but the more he thought about it, the more it hit him. the way his heart reacted when you gave him those letters, when you filled his locker with chocolates you’d made yourself, and when you said "i like you" so casually, so boldly, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. mark could still feel the warmth in his chest when he read your letters. he could still picture the way you’d smile at him, your eyes shining with a hope that made him feel both uneasy and... strangely content. it made him feel things he couldn’t quite name.

he had always kept his distance, tried to maintain the line between friendship and something else, because he knew it was wrong. but what if it wasn’t? what if everything he’d told himself about not crossing that line was just an excuse to avoid the truth? there were moments, fleeting but intense, when he felt your gaze on him, when he felt you watching him more than anyone else, and it made him ache in ways he didn’t understand. it was subtle, but it was there—your attention, your small gestures that spoke louder than words.

and mark... mark had never been one to ignore someone he cared about. he would remember the smallest things about you—your favorite color, how you liked your coffee, the way you hated the cold but still insisted on walking with him outside when it was freezing, just because you liked the fresh air. he noticed these things, even when he told himself it was just concern, just the instincts of a friend. but now, in the silence of his own thoughts, it became clear: he was lying to himself.

it had never been just friendship. he was always there when you needed him, always paying attention to the little things that mattered to you. he didn’t know when it started, but somewhere along the way, those small acts of kindness had shifted into something deeper, something more complicated. and now that yerim had pointed it out, it was impossible to ignore.

the worst part? he didn’t want to. he didn’t want to admit that he was falling for you, that the thought of seeing you with someone else—a guy like jeno, someone who actually understood you in ways he never could—made him feel this... discomfort, this jealousy that gnawed at him, something he hadn’t ever expected to feel. it wasn’t like he hated jeno—no, he didn’t. he was a good guy. but the idea of him being close to you, of him holding your hand, of him kissing you... it made mark want to break something, even if he didn’t understand why.

he remembered the first time you told him you liked him. it had been so simple, so direct, and yet, it had left him shaken. "i like you, mark," you had said, and his chest had tightened. it wasn’t the confession itself—it was the way you said it, the sincerity in your eyes, the lack of hesitation. you made it sound so effortless, like it was no big deal. but to him, it felt like the world was shifting beneath his feet. he had tried to laugh it off, tried to brush it aside, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

and now, as he sat there, the realization hit him full force. yerim had been right. he was in love with you. and it scared the hell out of him.

he had always tried to convince himself that it wasn’t anything more than friendship, but the truth was staring him in the face now. this—his attention to you, the way he always found a reason to be near you, the way he knew things about you that no one else did—it wasn’t friendship. it was something else. and as much as he hated to admit it, it was something he couldn’t control anymore.

mark let out a slow breath, closing his eyes for a moment. he didn’t know what to do with this feeling. he didn’t know how to face you, knowing this now. he had tried so hard to keep things uncomplicated, to keep the walls up, but somewhere along the way, they had crumbled without him even realizing it.

and then he thought about the way you’d looked at him this morning, about the way you’d still found time to check in on him, even though you were moving on with jeno. he hated it. he hated how much it hurt to see you with him, how it felt like he was losing you to someone else. but what could he do? he couldn’t just throw away the bond he’d spent years building with you. and yet, now that he had started to realize the truth—that he, maybe, maybe... loved you—it felt like everything he did was too little, too late.

mark ran a hand through his hair, frustration rising in his chest. he was an idiot. he always had been. and now... now you were slipping away from him. and maybe it was for the best. maybe he didn’t deserve you.

but god, did he wish he could change everything.

the professor of your writing class, a serious man with a gaze that seemed to read the minds of his students, made an unexpected announcement at the start of the class. there was a new activity, a group project where you had to work with a "superior," as he called it, to learn more about the challenges and demands that came with quality writing. as if it wasn’t enough, the professor began mentioning names, and when he got to yours, it wasn’t just any name.

"y/n," he said, his eyes locking with yours for a moment. "i know you all know mark lee. so, he'll be your partner for this task. i’m sure you'll learn a lot from him."

the entire class turned to look at you, and the blush immediately crept up your neck. they all knew you liked mark. it was obvious to everyone. a murmur spread across the tables, and a small ripple of laughter echoed in the air. your heart raced, and you could feel the tension building. you froze for a moment before quickly trying to compose yourself.

"after this class, i’ll be heading to mark’s group. so, i’ll let him know," the professor added, barely noticing your discomfort. it was as if he had done this before, pairing you two without a second thought.

the rest of the day felt like it was dragging, and even though you tried to distract yourself with the usual distractions of university life, everything felt off. your thoughts were heavy with mark. you had been in the same place so many times before, but now, it felt different. this wasn’t just any task; this was going to force you and mark into the same space, the same moments, and you didn’t know how to handle it.

later, as you met him in the university library, the tension was palpable. everything felt too familiar yet too strange. you hadn't been so close in so long, and now you were working on something that required your attention.

at first, there were small, careful interactions. you would look at him briefly, and he’d turn away, pretending to focus on the task. but soon, those little moments started to build.

one evening, you were sitting together at a table in the library. you were writing, trying to focus on the task in front of you, but mark was watching you, the air around you both charged. the quiet hum of the library didn’t help the feeling building between the two of you.

without realizing it, your hand brushed his as you reached for the same book. your heart jumped in your chest, and you both froze. he looked at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. when none came, he slowly took your hand into his, his fingers curling gently around yours. you didn��t pull away.

you continued to write, trying to act like nothing had changed, but every single brush of his fingers against yours made your heart race. mark, in his usual composed way, didn’t say a word. he just adjusted in his seat, took a deep breath, and continued flipping through a book with his free hand.

but you couldn’t ignore the feeling. your heart was pounding, and every moment felt too intense.

mark’s touch, his attention, was starting to feel different. the physical closeness, the subtle interactions, they were all making you feel things you didn’t know how to process.

one night, as you worked late on an essay, you were sitting in the university’s shared house, with mark next to you. the house was quiet, but the air between you two was anything but.

as you wrote the final paragraphs of your essay, mark casually placed his hand over yours, like it was the most natural thing in the world. you froze for a second, then continued writing with your other hand. he didn’t let go of your hand, though. he just sat there, quietly turning the pages of his book, but his attention was completely on you.

you could feel the warmth of his hand, his fingers lightly tracing the back of yours. you were trying to focus, but everything inside you was screaming. 

what was happening between you two?

the moment felt like it would last forever. your heart raced, and your stomach twisted with nerves. the way his hand felt against yours, the way you couldn’t stop thinking about him—it was all becoming too real. slowly, as if testing the waters, mark squeezed your hand gently, a silent acknowledgment that you were still there, together.

you tried to act normal, but the intensity of the moment was almost too much. you didn’t know what this was, but it felt like it was something more than you’d ever expected.

and as the days went by, you found that you were no longer just working with mark. you were starting to feel something again, something that wasn’t just based on your past feelings, but something that was growing stronger every time he smiled at you, every time he reached for your hand, every time his voice got just a little bit softer when he spoke to you.

you were starting to realize that you were falling for him all over again.

mark sat alone in his room that night, the moonlight spilling through the window as he stared at the pages of his book without really seeing them. his mind kept drifting back to the moments he had shared with you—those small touches, those fleeting glances that made his heart skip a beat. it was impossible to ignore the feelings that were starting to bubble up inside him.

why does it feel like this? he thought. this wasn’t supposed to happen.

he remembered when you first started writing him those letters, how you didn’t care that others saw, how you openly told him you liked him. at first, it made him uncomfortable, and he didn’t know how to react. but now, looking back, he realized it had always been more than just a casual thing for him. you had always been more.

mark sighed as he recalled those moments when he would catch himself thinking about you in class, or how his eyes would follow you around the room. it’s not just concern, is it? he thought. i care about you more than i ever wanted to admit.

he thought about how he would remember the little things—like how you always smelled like lavender, how you would always bite your lip when you were concentrating, how you’d laugh at the smallest jokes. he knew you so well. but why hadn’t he realized it before?

mark leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. it’s not just worry... it’s something more. his heart ached as he realized the truth, and it was almost too much to bear.

he was falling for you.

the days passed in a soft, almost imperceptible way, but mark could feel the change. it wasn’t loud or obvious, but it was there, lingering between you two like a quiet hum. at first, the moments were small — a brush of your fingers as you passed him the pen, a shared smile when the professor made an awkward joke, the way he always seemed to look for you in the crowded hallways. you had grown so accustomed to each other's presence that it felt almost natural to be together, even in silence. but there was a difference now.

he was aware.

mark noticed the way you would glance at him when you thought he wasn’t looking, the soft curl of your smile when he said something funny, or the way you always tried to be near him. he noticed the little things, things that before he might have brushed aside. it was easy to pretend that it was nothing, but deep down, he couldn’t ignore it anymore. you were changing something inside him, something he wasn’t sure how to handle.

they started to get closer, working together more than the project required, as if there was something magnetic pulling them together. late nights in the library, sharing the quiet, with nothing but the sound of papers shuffling and soft footsteps on the floor. the way mark would sneak glances at you when you weren’t paying attention, the way his hand would linger near yours when you passed the pencil over to him. it was simple, tender. there was no rush, no hurry — just a slow, steady burn.

one evening, as you both sat at the same table in the house, the quiet between you two felt charged with something unspoken. mark had just handed you a book you’d asked for, his fingers brushing yours for a moment too long. you felt it, and so did he.

"you’ve been quiet," mark said, his voice low, almost thoughtful. "thinking about the project, or… something else?"

you glanced at him, feeling your heartbeat quicken. "maybe both," you replied, your voice soft.

mark raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "you know, it’s funny. we’ve spent all this time together, but i still don’t think i know everything about you."

you smiled, trying to play it cool, but inside, you were nervous. "what do you want to know?"

he didn’t answer immediately. instead, he leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. "i guess… i just want to know how you see the world. the little things that make you… well, you."

you blinked, taken aback by the question. it felt oddly intimate, like he was asking to know you on a deeper level, not just as a classmate or a friend, but as something more.

"that’s… a lot to ask," you murmured, your cheeks flushing.

mark smiled, his gaze softening. "maybe," he said quietly. "but i think… i think you’re worth the effort."

the way his voice sounded made something tighten in your chest. 

you didn’t know what it was, but you felt it — that spark, that connection.

and so it continued, these quiet, intimate moments between the two of you. each one made the feelings grow stronger, but neither of you acknowledged it outright. there was no rush. this wasn’t about forcing something, it was just about being together, in whatever way it worked. a slow, steady love building like a quiet storm.

finally, the day came for you to present your project. everyone had gathered in the lecture hall, seniors and juniors alike. the professor was setting up the papers, his usual stern expression softened by the anticipation in the room. the seniors were all whispering among themselves, and you couldn’t help but notice how mark sat just a little too still in his chair, his eyes occasionally glancing over at you.

the professor cleared his throat, signaling that it was time. "alright, y/n, mark — it’s your turn. please come up and present."

you stood up, your heart beating a little faster as you walked up to the front, your palms sweaty. mark was beside you, his presence oddly comforting, though you could feel the tension between you two. you weren’t sure what to expect, but you knew that something was about to change.

mark didn’t speak right away. instead, he took your project, carefully setting it down on the desk in front of the class. you watched as he stood behind it, adjusting his posture and looking around at the gathered group. for a moment, he seemed lost in thought, then he cleared his throat.

"before i present this," he began, his voice steady but with a certain softness that made you pause, "i think i should talk about something else."

your stomach dropped. what was he doing?

the professor, who had been prepared to listen to a formal presentation, now looked intrigued. "mark?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

mark’s gaze shifted to you for a moment, then back to the class. he was taking his time, choosing his words carefully."this is a story about someone i came to know. at first, i didn’t think much of it. she was just someone i worked with, just another student. but as time went on, i began to notice little things. the way she always smiled, even when she was exhausted. the way she laughed at things that most people would have ignored. the way she always tried to be better, even when she didn’t have to."

mark paused, and you felt your heart race as your eyes locked with his. his voice had a strange warmth to it, and the room seemed to hold its breath as he continued.

"i don’t know when it happened, exactly. it wasn’t a moment — it wasn’t like i suddenly realized. but i know that one day, i found myself thinking about her when she wasn’t around. and when i looked at her, it felt like i was seeing something… something that was more than just a person. it felt like i was seeing a world, a life. and i wanted to know more, to be close to her, to understand who she was."

mark looked at you then, his gaze soft and steady. "this person… she’s not just anyone. she’s someone who changed the way i see things, who made me realize what it means to care about someone. and i think, somewhere along the way, i realized… i was falling for her."

you felt your breath catch in your throat. 

he was talking about you.

there was a stunned silence in the room. even the professor looked taken aback for a moment, his mouth slightly agape. mark continued, the words flowing from him almost effortlessly.

"this might not be the most professional presentation," he said, his voice now more playful, "but it’s the truth. and i think… that’s the most important part of any story."

the professor, still recovering from the surprise, gave a small chuckle, but quickly regained his composure. "well, mark," he said, "that was… certainly unexpected. but if after all that, you don’t present the real work," he said, raising an eyebrow, "i’ll have no choice but to fail you. and your partner."

mark smiled, but you could see the playfulness in his eyes fade. "don’t worry," he said softly, "the real work is here." he turned, pulling the actual project from under the desk and placing it in front of you. "y/n, it’s all yours."

you couldn’t help but blush, your heart still racing from his words. the class was silent, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. mark’s confession had left an unexpected warmth in the room, and for a moment, it felt like everything had shifted. everything felt different.

the rest of the room buzzed with whispers, the air thick with the lingering tension. you felt the weight of the moment heavy in your chest, but you were frozen, unable to move. mark’s words had completely caught you off guard, and now, as he stood there, his usual confident demeanor had softened — there was a vulnerability in his posture, a quiet but undeniable sincerity in the way his eyes met yours.

for a second, everything felt out of place, like time had slowed down just for you two. your heart was pounding in your ears, and yet, there was a part of you that was oddly calm. 

this was real.

this moment, this confession — it wasn’t just a dream.

you glanced around the room, meeting the eyes of your classmates. some of them looked just as stunned as you, others had the tiniest smirk tugging at the corners of their lips, and the professor, still slightly in shock, was scribbling something on his notepad, probably to process what had just transpired.

mark cleared his throat, his eyes still on you, waiting for a response. but you were too overwhelmed to speak. you just looked at him, taking in the moment, trying to find the words that seemed to be stuck in your throat.

the warmth from his words, the honesty in his voice, left a tingling sensation in the air. but as much as you wanted to hold it together, the words he said, the way he looked at you — it was too much. the feelings you had buried so deep, the longing you had hidden, began to spill out uncontrollably.

your hands shook as the tears began to well up. you couldn’t stop them. they fell freely, a mix of relief, sadness, and love all at once. the room fell silent, everyone staring at you. and you knew. they all knew. but now it was your turn to finally say it out loud, to let go of the fear of rejection.

"i’ve always loved you, mark," you whispered, your voice shaky, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "i’ve been in love with you for so long, thinking i was just some fool. but... i can’t hide it anymore."

you looked up, your vision blurry with tears, and there he was. mark, standing before you, a mixture of surprise and something softer in his eyes. he didn’t seem shocked, but there was something in his gaze that said he knew. it wasn’t a revelation to him — he had always known.

“i— i don’t know what to say, but... thank you,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “thank you for loving me all this time. for waiting. for staying. i... i had no idea. i didn’t want to admit it to myself.” he paused for a moment, stepping closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "but now... i get it. i’m starting to understand what i feel, and it’s... you. it’s always been you."

your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you thought you might fall apart. but mark’s steady presence kept you grounded. he was here, and he was saying things you had longed to hear for so long.

“i’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out,” he continued, his voice quiet but filled with so much emotion. "i’ve been... holding back. afraid. but now, i can’t hide it anymore. i like you. i like you so much. i’ve been trying to pretend it was something else, but it’s you. it’s always been you."

your heart raced, your chest tight, as his words sank in. this wasn’t just a confession from you anymore. it wasn’t just about what you had been feeling. mark felt the same way.

“thank you for loving me,” he whispered, his hand reaching out slowly to take yours. his fingers brushed over your skin, sending a wave of warmth through your body. “it’s my turn now, to love you back. for real.”

you blinked, a soft gasp escaping you, and the tears came again, this time in a different way. not from sadness, but from the overwhelming emotion of knowing that after all this time, mark was finally letting himself feel the same. finally.

“you don’t have to thank me,” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath, but your chest felt full, the emotions swirling inside you, making it impossible to think clearly. "i just needed you to know how i felt. i... i never thought you’d feel the same."

mark smiled softly, stepping closer until his chest was almost pressed against yours. “i do. i really do. and i’m not going anywhere. i want to be with you, if you’ll let me. no more hiding. no more pretending."

your heart soared as you looked at him, standing so close, his eyes full of honesty. you had waited so long for this, and now it was happening.

“i want that too,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "i want to be with you, mark. always."

mark nodded slowly, his hand resting gently on the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the last of your tears. "then let's not waste any more time," he said, his voice warm and soft, a promise in the words.

the world outside seemed to disappear as you stood there, together, finally on the same page. no more hiding, no more pretending. just the two of you, taking the first step toward what you both knew could be something real.

days passed, and the universe seemed to shift around you. mark and you were no longer just two people who shared silent glances and unsaid words. now, you were together, the air around you both full of something new, something beautiful. but not everyone understood it right away.

you and mark sat together in the cafeteria, just the two of you, laughing quietly. the others were around you, but it was as if the world had faded, and it was just the two of you in that small bubble. you could feel it—the connection, stronger than ever.

haechan, sitting across the table with jisung and jaemin, eyed you both with an exaggerated glance. his expression was a mix of disbelief and amusement. he leaned toward jaemin and sighed.

"i never thought i'd see mark being all... cheesy and love-struck like that," ahechan chuckled, nudging jaemin with his elbow. "i swear, he's practically glowing."

jaemin, who had been quietly observing, just shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "yeah, well, mark's always been that way when it comes to her," he muttered, already knowing what was coming. "took him long enough, though."

meanwhile, jisung, still looking grumpy about something, crossed his arms over his chest and shot a look at chenle. "you know what this means, right? i’m gonna have to give you 100,000 won now."

chenle grinned like he had won the lottery. "told you they'd get together eventually," he said with a teasing wink, clearly proud of his bet-winning skills.

jisung grumbled, staring at his half-eaten sandwich. "i hate you. i can’t believe i lost this bet."

"it’s not like you had much of a chance, anyway," chenle teased, laughing.

jaemin just sighed, shaking his head as if he already knew what was coming. "this was inevitable," he muttered under his breath. "mark was always going to fall for her. he just took his time."

you glanced at mark, your hand casually resting in his as you both shared a quiet smile. it was the kind of smile that said everything without saying a word.

renjun’s voice broke the moment. "so, when's the wedding?" he joked, but there was warmth in his eyes. "mark's acting like he's already head over heels. never thought i'd see the day."

mark’s cheeks flushed, but he squeezed your hand gently, his eyes soft. "i’m just taking my time with her," he said, his voice full of affection.

you laughed, your heart soaring. it felt right. this was real.

and though everyone around you may have teased and joked, you knew deep down that this was only the beginning. you and mark had found something special. something that, despite the slow burn, had bloomed into something beautiful and undeniable.

“so,” ahechan continued, looking at the two of you with a teasing grin, “when do we get to hear about your first official date?”

you turned to mark, your heart racing in your chest. "maybe you should wait for that one," you said with a wink, “but... it’s gonna be worth it.”

the group burst into laughter, and mark’s hand tightened around yours, his smile the brightest thing in the room. because no matter what anyone else said, you and mark had finally found each other, and nothing else mattered.

[rkiveinmarvel]

plums and peaches* - bucky barnes des. pissing bucky off is one thing, making him fall is the same thing. notes. this is highkey inspired because of this: INSPO. fluffy! bucky barnes being emotionally constipated person he is, steve and sam knowing there's more depth, avengers living together

hello! i have risen, baby girl! this is just a fluffy story since thunderbolts* is around the corner and i finished my second semester with flying colors, i did not proofread on this one, i'm sorry but hey! it fun writing for my favorite congressman bucky barnes. also, the music opinion that characters made here is purely out of fiction! (don't hate me please, i listen to those artists too) this is for you, @vibraniumqueen, you saw the vision!

w.c: 1.5k

When James Buchanan Barnes moved into the Avengers compound, his adjustments didn’t come easy—From Tony Stark still wary of his presence, Peter Parker still doesn’t shut up about his metal arm, Sam being an ass to him, and then, there’s you. Something James doesn’t want to get close with, hold with, and even be a part with. He truly believes that he will just keep things casual, because everything you do pisses him off. 

You were arrogant, cocky, and proud. Everything that the 40s people don't have, so, him meeting you was everything he didn’t wish to do. However, along the line of working in missions and tasks, he finds you useful: You may be arrogant but insightful, cocky but you have something to boast about, and you might be proud because you do have something to be smart about—and that pissed him off more. Yeah, sure, Sam is an ass to him but you take the cake.

And yet cakes are sweet too.

His hate started a year ago, a year where Tony and Steve almost had the Avengers break-up. He saw you, ignoring every word that comes out in everyone’s mouth and just sketching on the table. At first, he thought maybe you were some kind of a secretary, taking tabs of everyone’s opinion. To which surprised Bucky when Steve asked for your opinion on the decision to keep him in the team, ah, so, you’re an Avenger as well.

James was welcomed softy by Wanda and Steve, guess they bond over the HYDRA’s footprints—next was Clint, Natasha, Sam, and so on, everybody was being kind and patient with him, well, except Stark which he understands—but what he doesn’t get was you.

“Buck. Stop glaring.” He couldn’t stop, no, he can, he just doesn’t want to. You, Sam, Steve, Bucky, and Maria are currently debating who got the best music of all times. It was a harmless teasing and debate. But Bucky, being a man of 40s, stands tough on his music taste.

Well, that same goes for you.

He was defending As The Time Goes By by Dooley Wilson—while you defend The Smiths, though yours is more on the joking side, the poor former Winter Soldier did not take it likely. As you catch his glares, you can’t help but tease him more.

“I’m just saying, look, whatever you guys have in the 40s that ain’t me.” You laughed. “Besides, the Smiths are much better than Dooley.” It was a joke, really. Steve chuckled and Bucky looked like someone stole his cookie. “Stop glaring, Barnes. I might think you like me if you don’t stop.” You smiled at him, at last he looked away. 

As he finally has one reason why you piss him off.

Another was when during a mission, you set off another course and ignored the protocols which pissed him and the team. Despite the other courses, the mission went well, so the team didn’t mind, well except Bucky. Once you, Bucky, Natasha, and Clint enter quinjet, he snapped.

“What were you thinking?” He grunted a little deep. He knew he was barely adjusting to the team but what you did almost jeopardized everything. “What?” You had asked, as you knew he’s getting fired up again. “What were you thinking breaking inside the control room alone, we have protocol. Clint was in the control room and you’re supposed to be with Natasha while I handle the information room.” Clint and Natasha just shared a glance as you nodded at Bucky’s words. Oh, damn, he hates your cocky attitude.

“What’s bothering your cyborg ass, it’s done. We got the thing, no one got hurt, boom and bam.” As you shrugged him off. “Also, next time you wanna say you like and care about me, take me to dinner first, I’ll appreciate it more.”

Clint and Natasha sniffle a laugh as you threw the capri-sun to Clint, Natasha, and Bucky—and yes, you intended to give him the Wild Cherry. 

This is like only the nth reason why you piss him off.

A month from now it’ll be a mission that requires engaging an intel in a ball. Well as far everyone is concerned, there would be a fake couple act—it was Bucky and Natasha with Sam and you. “Why do we need to go as a couple, we can just ask Wanda to hypnotise them and we’re done.” You said in the meeting room as Wanda nodded with the suggestion. “We need Wanda in South Korea with me and Dr. Cho.” said Vision, to which Wanda replied: “Yeah, me and Vis will explore Seoul too.”

“Buy me an album, please.” You chuckled. “Well, there’s that, we should have matching rings, Wilson. We got a month to prepare, so, please can I go?” You stood up.

“Ah, Buck, didn’t you say you’re going to the city—Think you can give Buck a ride?” Steve turned to you, Bucky considered leaving Steve in the line. But you shrugged it off and nodded: “Let’s go, pretty boy.” As you left the meeting room, Sam smirked as Bucky replied: “Not a fucking word.” Steve smiled and chuckled. “You two are acting like cat and mouse for a year now, might wanna try hanging out.” Bucky sighed and stood up as Natasha continued—”You two argue a lot, you two might be the next Pepper and Tony.” That left a chuckle in the team, as he just left the room.

In your car, he sat in the passenger seat as you drove in silence. 

For 1 Minute.

“Can we change the music?” He asked. 

“What do you mean, it’s The Smiths.”

“I know, that’s why I  want you to change it. I’m  not a fan.”

You scoffed and looked at him for a split second. “Excuse you, you’re in my car, Optimus Prime.”

“Such hospitality.”

“I know right, I might get an award.” Oh, you do know, how to piss him off.

At the city, Bucky got dropped off in a library-opening but before you could drive away, you asked what time he could be picked up. “I’ll be here until 1900, what time should I pick you up?” He hesitated; didn’t speak.

“Look, I’m tryna be nice here, because Steve said we fight too much and the upcoming mission needs you, Nat, me, and Sam workin’ together so, come on, cyborg.” You said truthfully, as he just nodded. “8PM? But can you sto—nevermind, I’ll wait for you here, 8PM.” 

“Okay, don’t drown in books.” You said as you drove away.

At exactly 8PM—he was there in the parking lot, as he entered the car, he just sighed. “Had fun reading, kiddo?” You had asked, chuckling, as he just grunted and looked away. “Shut it.” Truthfully, he did have a great time, but usually when he reads during times where Steve or Sam drives him—Steve buys him plums for memory and sometimes he does that himself. 

After beating the record of 1 minute silence—it stretched into 10 minutes until you finally spoke. “Can you reach me the bag from the back seat? The brown one?” As he got the bag and was about to hand it to you, you simply replied. “It’s yours.”

He side-eyed you as you spoke. “I know I’m an asshole but…I observe, Barnes.” As you turn the car, he opens the paper bag and there inside are his plums. “They help with memories, right?” You said casually and still eyes on the road but Bucky felt so warm in his cheeks, not that he admits it but the softness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Thanks.” You glance at him with a soft smile as you return your eyes to the road. “Careful with the soft voice. You don’t want to fall in love with me.” You joked as you and him finally shared a soft laugh, but it was there. “Don’t worry. That won’t be a problem.”

The time for the mission finally came along and you and Sam are currently trying to act as a couple when in reality you and Sam are close knit. Your laughs and cringes are visible and heard in the safehouse. As the party is about to get close, you catch Bucky having a hard time doing his necktie. 

“Mr. Augustine, need some help?” You had asked in his made-up name to which he just chuckled. You got close and fixed his tie. “You okay?” He asked. You nodded as you smiled. “Yeah, it’s just weird–I mean, why do we have to pretend, we’re the Avengers–it’s a stupid get up, we could act like party helpers and keep it casual, and here we are–matching rings and wearing fancy clothes.” You smiled at him as you finished tying his tie.

In the brief moment, you two stared at each other. “I best get going, I don’t want Mr. Benson is waiting for me.” You chuckled also using Sam’s made-up name. “I’ll see you around.” He replied.

“Didn’t take you to bite back but…I’ll see you around, Mr. Augustine.” As you left, his phone rang—he answered it as Steve asked for updates and current situations, Bucky listened and heard everything but before the two hung up, another conversation would be present some other time.

“Got any more updates? Or you and The Smiths lover are arguing again?”

A chuckle left Bucky’s lips towards Steve’s question as he replies: “Actually, Steve…I have a problem.”

Yep, definitely, you take the cake.

⚘ masterlist 1 | 2 | 3 ₊˚⊹♡ taglist: @yesiamthatwierd, @bitchimasnake-sss, @cjand10, @reemoony, @vibraniumqueen

[puppybei]

Unsaid Dreams

Chapter 10 (Series Masterlist)

Pairing: Modernau!Sukuna x Mother!Reader

Genre: Hidden Baby Trope

Summary: Reader opens up a bakery after running away from her three year relationship with Sukuna, effectively ghosting him and hiding away in the middle of the countryside. Unknown to Sukuna, reader also had a baby, and now is living peacefully until an unfateful meeting starts to pull her back into the life she so desperately escaped from.

Tw: Kdrama esque cliche, Depiction of Christian wedding, reader is received to be wearing a dress but I’ve kept it as vague as humanely possible, Switched up writing styles a bit for this one don’t be too mad lol, kissing without consent but it’s just to shut Sukuna up- scandalous I know!! Mentions of pregnancy and giving birth but nothing in detail. Mention of Toji!! Lowkey really bad writing

Wc: 4.5k

Year 20XX, September 20

It was lightly drizzling that day, wet cement and autumn leaves crunching under his feet, shoes squeaking with every step he took, hair plastered to his tiny forehead as he finally reached the playground.

The ten year old Sukuna was skipping class for the first time in his life, in fact, he even took a bus to another town just to escape. He has to go back, he knows his parents will find him by the evening- but those few hours he got without the adults criticizing his every move was much appreciated.

The boy walked around the new town for an hour, finally coming to stop at a small neighborhood park, crawling inside one of the cylindrical slides and sitting with his with his knees propped up. That was where Sukuna met you for the first time, though neither of you were old enough for the memory to stick with you after twenty years.

The sound of a young girl crying made the boy’s head snap up, climbing out of the slide and into the gravel. A peculiar sight greeted him, a girl his age sitting on the corner with her right pant leg pulled up, red streaming down her knee as she hiccuped and sobbed.

Two presumably older boys stood over her, dirt and grime coating their hands as they laughed at her, kicking sand upwards as she sputtered and coughed. Normally Sukuna didn’t really care about weaklings who couldn’t defend themselves but the screeching laughter of the older boys was starting to irk him.

A short scuffle later, the twelve year olds had run away, tail tucked in between their legs as they promised to get back at Sukuna. Your cries had been reduced to mere sniffles and you were bandaging up Sukuna, pink hello kitty bandage placed on his scathed knuckles as he grumbled about how girly they were.

You shyly smiled in return, holding his hand as he helped you up and thanking him with big doe eyes. Sukuna felt something in his stomach flutter but he crushed down the feeling immediately, he had never been on the receiving side of anyone’s good will and his hands felt clammy with the feeling that bloomed in his heart.

You both spent a good hour in the park, playing and just talking while Sukuna had made sure no one else was going to bully you. By the time the sun set, the people his parents sent out had come to pick him up and he watched you wave goodbye as he sat in the car, tinted window obscuring his vision of you.

Sukuna forgot to ask you for your name and you went on with your own life, unbeknownst to both of you, fate had other plans and would tangle your red strings.

Twelve Years Later,

Sukuna doesn’t really remember how he ended up with the velvet box in his pocket when he was on the clean up mission that changed the trajectory of his life. One minute he was walking through a high end shopping district to meet with an investor and the next he was talking to the salesman from the jewelry store.

It was a pretty stone, he knew you’d like it. He had access to your Pinterest board and made sure to get the ring that was to your every whim and wish, the perfect band, the perfect stone, the perfect cut- it had to all be perfect. He wasn’t going to half ass a proposal- he’s not that dense.

The notion kind of started on a late night call with Toji, one where he confessed he got his then girlfriend pregnant and was going to marry her. When Sukuna asked him why, Toji gave some generic man answer- though to his credit he did sound very sincere in professing his love to the woman.

Which then spurred Sukuna on to start thinking about you- a kid with you. Maybe a kid who looked like you- yeah he wouldn’t mind a brat or two if they came out like you. The fantasy brought a smile to his face as he laid down on his hotel bed, still dressed in his formal suit as sleep had yet to come to him.

After the initial day dream, it seemed that every waking moment not spent doing work was imagining you with a kid, a child with the same pretty eyes as you, same toothy smile and perhaps he’d get to see the mini version of you that he missed out on. He’d get to dress them up in little clothes and he’d be a father.

He wasn’t a jerk though, he’d have to first solve the problem of your bare ring finger before knocking you up- though he wouldn’t mind which order he did it, but it was you- and damn him if he wanted to take things properly with you.

So yeah, he might’ve told Toji he didn’t want kids with you, but it’s not like that fucker needed to know he wanted to marry you first, watch you walk down the aisle in a pretty white dress with your hair and makeup done, maybe watch you sign the marriage certificate with his name, wanted to kiss you in front of everyone and claim you as his forever.

Seven years and three months later,

Sukuna could feel his breath catch in his throat, the itchy tag of your clothes still pressed in between his fingers. He could feel your warm breath on his chest, the way you slightly trembled when your question came out, your own body warm and soft against his.

“Fuck.”

He immediately regretted his word choice as he mumbled the curse out in panic, sitting up on the bed when you scooted away, face turned away from him.

Your bottom lip was pulled in between your teeth, worry lines already forming on your forehead, eyebrows furrowed as you felt the heat of embarrassment crawl up your face.

“Forget it- sorry I never. Just-”

The bedsheets rustled around you as Sukuna almost leapt forward, hand curling around your upper arm as he looked down at the bed, not meeting your gaze,

“This isn’t how I-”

He let out an exasperated sigh, one hand shoved inside his pocket and playing with the velvet box that he and Uraume flipped the old apartment upside down for.

It had never been a question of who he was going to marry, he always knew it was you, the real question was when? How long does one wait to propose to the love of his life their ex/baby mama before it’s considered socially acceptable?

He knew he had to wait a year at minimum to get his shit sorted out, and then what? Another year of dating- slowly introducing Hana to her father and then how long was he supposed to wait?

Sukuna never really did well on what society expected of him, finding the thousands of unwritten rules on how to communicate and behave quite honestly a huge hassle and not worth his time. The only reason he didn’t ask you to marry him outright after dating for a few months, was that he knew it would make you sad.

And fuck him if he couldn’t stand the sight of disappointment on your face. He hated seeing you bottle things up, hated watching your expression flicker for a moment before you steeled yourself and fixed it with a smile that just didn’t sit right on your face.

So yeah, he might have gone down multiple subreddits and spent an unhealthy time on websites seeking the help of strangers until he realized they were all incels and had no life of their own.

And he hates himself for hesitating, for holding back, for not proposing to you earlier. He wonders how long you kept that to yourself, had he really let his girlfriend doubt herself for the entirety of their relationship.

He cursed under his breath, letting go of your arm as he chewed on the flesh of his cheek, poking his tongue into the sides of his mouth,

“I- Fuck- I can explain everything okay- just,”

He looks up, meeting your own worried gaze as you put your hand on top of his, practised ease evident with the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes right.

Sukuna never considered himself a coward, fuck it he could just propose now and be done with everything- the only reason stopping him was you. He doubts you’d want him on one knee in a bedroom that had barely been cleaned for the past week, still dressed in your Pyjamas with empty ramen bowls sitting on the night table, evidence of last nights’ movie marathon.

“I made a reservation, tonight- for 9.”

His voice comes out raspy, almost hesitant, if you hadn’t known Sukuna for so long, you’d say he was bashful even. His gaze drops to your bare finger, staring at it for a second as his grip tightens around the box in his pocket, jaw clenched as he seemed to be lost in thought.

Sukuna wasn’t unprepared- no, infact he’d booked the reservation for the restaurant almost three months ago, no matter how many times he tried to bribe the fuckers at the restaurant- the head chef said something about moral integrity or some fuck shit and wouldn’t let him cut in.

And so he willed himself to wait- after all, this head chef was also a top class patissier, one who you admired ever since you were in high school.

It was one of those days where you both were engrossed in your own worlds, Sukuna finishing up the documents his useless treasury left behind while you were working on an Opera cake- a more bitter chocolate cake that you wanted to impress your teacher with.

Songs from the shared playlist you and Sukuna made when you first started your ‘arrangement’ played softly in the background, filling up the silence whenever you stopped talking. As you started layering and decorating the cake, a notification popped up on your phone. An update from your favorite patissier- turned- chef, he was opening up a restaurant uptown.

Your excited chatter soon filled the silence up and Sukuna barely nodded in response, you thought he wasn’t paying attention and continued to gush about the chef, your enthusiasm even affecting Sukuna as he paid just a little bit more attention that day, burning the details of you into his memory.

“It’s okay- I don’t need to know anymore, it was just a stupid question I didn’t- you don’t need to answer,”

Though Sukuna wasn’t a coward, he sure felt like the world's biggest one as he watched you get up from the bed and disappear into the washroom, manicured nails taunting him with the way they shined under the dim lighting.

Sukuna had got your nails done a month ago, you were taken aback when he asked to accompany you to your nail appointment, a bit suspicious when he insisted you get white nails, chalking it up to this being another weird control thing he wanted with you. Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna was playing the long game, internally smug when the nails came out to your liking even if he was the one who chose the design.

Next came shopping for d-day, he knew you’d want to wear something off-white, you always wanted to save wearing pure white for the actual marriage. So when you both went out he made sure to buy everything that your gaze lingered on- not that he didn’t do that normally, but he took extra care to guide you to more engagement-okay clothing.

“Wear the dress I bought last week,”

You stopped on your way to the bathroom, turning around and raising an eyebrow at the six foot man who sat tense at the edge of your bed,

“Okay…”

Sukuna had been unusual the entire date, first off he refused to tell you where you were going, instead picking out your outfit for you and mumbling something about how you’ll know when you get there. Even more weird was the fact he was wearing a suit- a personal favourite of yours but unnatural nonetheless.

By the time he pulled up to the restaurant, you finally put two and two together, smiling so hard at the CEO that your cheeks hurt. You weren't sure how Sukuna managed to get a reservation, but he must have pulled a bunch of strings to make up for not answering your question before.

He led you in, hand resting on your lower back as he glared at the male employee who smiled at you, eyes narrowing into a mean squint. Sukuna is an impatient man, but as the waiter led you to your seats, he only got far more impatient- leg bouncing under the silk lined tables, swirling the wine around in his cup lazily as his eyes shot from looking at you, to the table napkins, to the view outside the window seat you were perched at and then finally back to you again.

“I didn’t mean it.”

You could see Sukuna swallow down the wine, adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. You stopped mid cut into your food, glancing down at the knife in your hand before you mumbled out,

“It’s okay Ryo- really I-”

This time Sukuna reached forward, hand immediately wrapping around your delicate wrist as he forced you to look up at him, he’s always been a little attention hungry when it came to you,

“Fuck- no you don’t get it.”

He bit his lower lip, shaking his head as one hand disappeared under the table and into his pocket. You finally let go of your knife and fork, setting them down to smile warmly at Sukuna,

“Ryo really, you don’t have to explain anything,”

Sukuna barely nodded in response, quiet again as he settled down into his seat and ate the rest of his food in tense silence.

When the dessert came out, you could barely hold in your excitement, going as far as to pass a note to the chef through the waiter. Sukuna watched your giddy smile as you cut into the cake, his own heart beating fast in chest as he watched you savor every bite.

By the time you were done, Sukuna had started to fill the silence with idle chatter, talking about Yuuji and Megumi and everything in between. You listened to him carefully, adding your two cents whenever needed.

The man had started to fiddle with his hands under the table, suit blazer looking slightly uncomfortable with how much he was moving. Sukuna brought your attention back to him when he started talking about Uraume, slipping the ring from the box and into his hands.

He watched you respond animatedly at him, all smiles and flushed cheeks from the alcohol. Sukuna had watched countless engagement videos, making sure he had the correct posture and not some long ugly winded speech that he knew you’d hate.

The plan came crashing down when you laughed at some stupid joke he made though, smile lines and crow's feet adorning your features and Sukuna felt the love for you speeding over his chest and in that moment he took your hand in his, still seated right next to each other with the city lights twinkling behind you.

Your hand was yanked from the table and you were starting to question Sukuna when he slipped the ring onto your finger, a perfect fit.

“Marry me,”

It was so Sukuna of him to order you to marry him instead of wooing you, although you guess you don’t have anyone but yourself to blame considering you love him- brashness and all.

“What I said to Toji-,”

This caught your attention, looking up at him and catching his eyes with a curious expression. Sukuna’s ears were tinged red, he was looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky,

“I wanted to get married first, I wanted you to be mine before I knocked you up-,”

Your mouth opened in shock at his crude choice of words, slapping his shoulder playfully as he merely rolled his eyes and continued on his speech- or rant,

“Sorry for fucking that order up,”

He mumbled, gaze stuck on the carpeted floor as he avoided your eyes. Good thing you didn’t back out from a challenge though, next thing the 6 foot man knew, your lips were pressed against his, impossibly sweet and soft.

He grunted in response, hand cradling the back of your head as he pulled you closer, only letting you go to have a breather,

“Silly Ryo, you’re lucky you’re cute. I don’t know if I would have agreed to this otherwise,”

He could feel you smiling against his lips, he cursed under his breath, pulling you in once again as he kissed you more deeply with furrowed eyebrows.

Six Months Later,

Sunlight filtered in through the stained glass, shades of red and blues dancing on Sukuna’s face as he waited at the altar. The pews were lined with pink and white roses. The church was dim, sunlight and candles serving as the only source of light.

Sukuna was dressed in a black suit, crisp black dress shirt that hugged his figure under the vest. He had his hands in his pocket, unusually tense, anticipation and anxiety thrumming through his body as he kept his gaze fixed on the floor.

He could barely hear the chatter of the people you had invited- not him, he’d rather you sign in an office and call it a day, but anything to make his soon-to-be wife happy right. Speaking of keeping you happy, he even wore a lapel pin, a white rose that rested just below his collar, contrasting the all black look and honestly he just wanted to rip the entire suit off and be done with it.

Even his hair was styled with copious amounts of gel, face tattoos covered with foundation. He never thought of covering them up, but he visited your family once and heard not so savoury comments about himself and had to grit his teeth in order to not make a scene.

The church bells finally rang and his head snapped upwards, red eyes expectantly looking at the huge wooden doors of the church that opened. His breath caught in his chest as he watched you walk in, heart patterring so loudly he felt his entire body was buzzing in awe. Sukuna would later tell you that the glistening in his eyes was caused by the dry air and not by the sight you.

Your heels felt heavy as you walked to the altar, veil obscuring your view and his simultaneously. Sukuna had to dig his nails into his palms to fight the urge to rip off the material and uncover your face. You had him in a trance, jaw going slack as he watched the white dress swish around you.

He barely composed himself when you stood beside him at the altar, whatever the priest said going in one ear and out the other as he stared at you, barely making out your soft smile through the translucent veil.

He swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth as he watched your gaze turn to the little ring bearers, turning his own head to see them. Hana was dressed in a white dress, a huge bow tied at her waist and her pink hair in short bouncy curls. Yuji, the ever sweetheart, held her arm as the now seven year old held the rings carefully in her small hands.

Sukuna barely registered you saying ‘I do’, in fact he himself couldn’t remember if he said it in time. The entire thing felt like you were both in a daze, like you two were the only people that mattered in the entire world. Sukuna finally felt at ease as he slipped the ring onto your finger for the second time in his life, eyes trailing up to see your face and wiping away the tears that gathered in the corner of your eyes,taking care to not ruin your makeup.

Sure, he might have called you a ‘silly woman’ for shedding tears at your own wedding, but was it really your Sukuna if he didn’t make a stupid comment. You merely giggled in response to his scolding, holding his calloused hand in yours as you slipped his ring on.

Sukuna thinks he’ll remember this moment forever, the giddy look on your face, mascara lined lashes batting up at him, the upturn of your lips, the pearl necklace sitting on your collar bones that just caught the light from above, the look in your eye as you held his hands in yours. He sure hopes the photographers he spent his money on captured this, otherwise he was going to unleash hell on them.

A flurry of flowers was showered upon you both as you walked down the aisle, you could make out Toji with his son, cracking a smile at you both from the pews, even Aoi came with her son, a basket of white petals in her hand as she waved at you.

A glance at Sukuna showed that he was staring right at you, softly brushing off the petals from your hair with a serene look, he looked neither angry- which was a lot coming from Sukuna, nor did he look insanely joyous- which would honestly just scare you if he did. He looked peaceful, content and the look he had on his face made you feel all gooey inside, like you were a teenager who got caught staring at her crush.

One year later and five months later

Sukuna had a headache, he’s been having this headache for the past month or so. He blearily blinks awake from his slumber, awakened by the sounds of a baby crying. He grabs the monitor as he swings his legs, sitting down on the corner of the bed.

The black and white screen showed baby Shiro wailing in the blue nursery room and Sukuna let out a sigh. He heard you mumble in your sleep, turning around and brushing his fingers against your cheek, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth when you sleepily nuzzled into his palm.

He pulled the covers over you, tucking you in as he stood up and made his way to the nursery. The dimmed lights were turned on as he entered the room, Shiro’s high pitched wails stopping once Sukuna entered and loomed over his crib. The baby boy had your features, same sparkling eyes and pouty lips whenever you got upset.

Sukuna picked Shiro up, sleepily patting his back as he laid him on the diaper changing counter, nose wrinkled in disgust as he changed Shiro as quickly as the man could physically do. But Shiro was still crying and Sukuna could feel a vein pop in his head, he took the baby to the kitchen and sat him on the baby chair, already getting out the milk for him to heat up.

A quick temperature check was done and Sukuna held Shiro in his arms, walking back and forth as he fed him the bottle. By this time you had gotten up, sensing the cold empty space beside you and walking into the kitchen.

“Ryo you should have called me too,”

Sukuna looked up in your direction, sending a nod in acknowledgment as he grumbled, turning his body away from you,

“You barely slept last night. Don’t be stupid. I can take care of this much,”

Actually Sukuna had been taking care of far too much work than he took credit for, you don’t know if he was trying to make up for the pregnancy he missed out on but he barely let you take a step from your bed, even complaining when you tried to do simple exercises.

He also paid much more attention to Hana, making sure she didn’t feel left out at any point. He attended all her events and praised her over every small thing, though the praise itself was questionable.

Even after you gave birth, which was a huge ordeal, as it is with any kid from a six foot five man, he was there with you throughout the entire process. Even insisting you get a maid for three months while you got to reciprocate and he took care of the kids, taking a leave from his job as he left Gojo and Geto to run the company for a few months.

Even now, a month after dismissing the maid, he’s been ever so attentive to you, he makes sure you don’t even have a chance to get up in the middle of the night, claiming the spot before you even realize it’s open.

You check the time and it’s a little over seven in the morning, not unusual for Shiro to be up, infact his older sister should be following suit pretty soon. You can already hear her little steps down the stairs, loudly calling for you as you push Sukuna aside and set a pan on the stove.

“Hi darling, Mumma’s gonna get breakfast started for you so why don’t you go sit down hmm?”

Hana was finally tall enough to sit on the grown up table, in your opinion she was growing old way too fast, already eight and her dad’s behaviour was rubbing off on her, she was apparently very sassy to her classmates in the third grade, never to you though.

Shiro had quietened down after the bottle was over, blinking curiously at the clatter of plates around him as he was put back in his baby chair, slamming his hands on the table and babbling incoherently as Hana talked to him.

Sukuna settled down at the table nodding along to Hana’s story about the new friends in her class as he sipped on a cup of coffee you got him. The radio was turned on and soft music played while you made food, breakfast was the one meal Sukuna allowed you to cook, Uraume was called over for lunch and dinner.

When breakfast was finally done you put the plates in front of Hana and Sukuna, Shiro was barely five months old and you wanted to let him be curious about foods before introducing them to him.

The sunlight streamed in through the shimmery curtains, highlighting the mess of toys on the floor and pouring warmth into your bodies. The children sat in the shade while you and Sukuna basked in the morning glory.

The first few hours of the morning was always your favorite, the kids were too sleepy and pliant to start any sort of fight and Sukuna usually took care of Shiro so you just had to make breakfast as you talked to your husband. It filled your heart up with love and affection to see the same scene every morning, like something in you was healed, it was filled to the brim. It was everything you could ever want and so much more.

Yeah. This was it.

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A/n: And that’s the end ladies!! Tbh there are a lot of plot holes but I would like for everyone to remember that I’m 1. Just an 18 year old and 2. I’m doing this for free and from the comfort of my home!! Anyways I’m so glad that so many of yall were willingly a part of this!! Like I gained 400 followers from this that’s crazy… be on the look out for my next series featuring Duke of the north! Nanami lol!! I love you all so much and rereading the comments I got were the only things motivating me to finish this!!

[lynbels]

i NEEEED stepbro! jake so bad like

could you pretty please write a stepbro! jake au with the prompt 21!! <333

(i’m so addicted to your writing rn keep it up!!)

bad girl’s reward - sjy (m)

#21: Your stepbrother accidentally walks in on you changing, but doesn’t leave—just stares and says, ‘You knew I was home, didn’t you?’ · prompt request list

‼️ tw: stepbrother au, dubcon vibes, oral (f receiving), oral (m receiving), dacryphilia, rough handling, manhandling, dirty talk, possession themes, slight overstimulation, breeding kink hints - ✉️ wc2210

You and Jake had never really gotten along the way real siblings did. Maybe it was because you weren’t, not really. Your parents had gotten married a few years ago, blending two completely different worlds together — your polished, structured life and Jake’s laid-back, sunny existence. He was loud, messy, endlessly teasing; you were stubborn, sarcastic, quick to snap back. Somehow, that push and pull had become the background noise of your house.

But lately… things had felt different.

It started small. Jake would look at you too long when you passed him in the hallway. His teasing would edge into something that felt heavier, rougher. And you — embarrassingly — noticed things about him you shouldn’t have. How broad his shoulders had gotten after all those soccer practices. How his hair fell into his eyes when he laughed. How he smelled like cologne and clean laundry whenever he brushed past you.

It was wrong. It was stupid. You tried to shake it off.

Until one afternoon, when it all came crashing down.

You were changing in your room, stripping off your jeans and shirt to pull on something comfier. The door was cracked open just a little — you thought you were alone. You swore you were alone.

But then the door creaked, and you froze, half-dressed, staring wide-eyed as Jake leaned casually against the doorframe.

For a second, neither of you moved.

Then Jake’s gaze dropped — slow, deliberate — and dragged over every bare inch of you. His mouth twitched into the faintest smirk.

“You knew I was home, didn’t you?” he said, voice low and accusing, almost like a growl.

Your heart slammed against your ribs. Heat rushed to your face, your chest. You fumbled for your shirt, panic flaring, but Jake didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. Just kept staring, eating you alive with his eyes.

“You’re not even sorry,” he muttered, almost to himself, like he couldn’t believe it.

And deep down, in the pit of your stomach, you knew he was right.

You yanked your shirt over your head and screamed, “Jake, get out!” so loudly it probably shook the windows.

He finally moved — but not before flashing you a look you couldn’t quite name. Something dark. Hungry. Like he wasn’t even sorry.

You slammed the door behind him, heart hammering, face on fire. For a minute, you just stood there, breathing hard, willing the embarrassment to go away.

It only got worse.

Later that night, as you were lying in bed, trying to scroll mindlessly through your phone to forget everything, you heard it — the low, unmistakable sounds coming from down the hall.

At first, you thought maybe you were imagining it. But then you heard it again. Soft, breathy moans. Skin hitting skin.

Your whole body locked up when you caught it — your name, groaned low and broken.

You slapped a hand over your mouth, heart pounding so hard it hurt. You shouldn’t be hearing this. You shouldn’t want to hear this. And yet you lay there frozen, every nerve on fire, cheeks burning so hot you thought they might melt.

The next morning, you couldn’t even look at him.

You avoided Jake like the plague — skipping breakfast, locking yourself in your room, slipping past him in the hallway without meeting his eyes. Every time you thought about it, that humiliating sound replayed in your head, sparking something sinful low in your stomach.

Your parents noticed immediately.

“Are you two fighting again?” your mom asked at dinner, frowning between you.

Jake just smirked, popping a piece of chicken into his mouth like he didn’t have a care in the world. His knee brushed yours under the table — maybe an accident, maybe not — and you nearly jumped out of your skin.

Sometimes you caught him staring, too. When you wore one of your shorter skirts or bent over the counter a little too far, you could feel his gaze burning into you. It made your skin prickle, made you shift under the intensity of it, and made the tension between you coil tighter and tighter until it was a miracle either of you were still pretending nothing was wrong.

But you both knew.

You both knew.

And eventually… something was going to break.

It finally snapped one night when your parents went out to dinner, leaving just the two of you alone in the house.

You tried to pretend everything was normal — flipping through the TV channels, pretending to be interested in some dumb movie — but you could feel Jake behind you. Sitting on the other end of the couch. Not talking. Barely breathing. Watching.

Every hair on your body stood on end.

You tried not to look, but when you shifted slightly to grab the remote, your tank top rode up, exposing just a sliver of your stomach — and you felt the way his gaze dropped, lingering. Heavy.

Your heart jumped into your throat.

You tightened your grip on the remote and cleared your throat. “Can you not stare?”

Silence.

When you finally risked a glance at him, Jake was leaned back, arms thrown casually over the back of the couch — but there was nothing casual about the way he looked at you. His eyes were dark, almost hungry, and when he spoke, his voice was low and slow, like he was barely holding something back.

“You wore that on purpose,” he said.

You blinked. “What?”

“You knew I’d be home,” he murmured, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, eyes dragging down your body again, and it made your thighs press together instinctively. “You knew I’d see you.”

“No, I didn’t—” you started, voice high and defensive, but he cut you off.

“Didn’t you?” Jake’s voice dropped even lower. “Walking around half-dressed… looking at me like that…”

“I wasn’t—!” you protested, heat flooding your face, but he just chuckled under his breath — dark and disbelieving.

He stood slowly, towering over you now, and you shrank back into the couch, pulse thundering in your ears.

Jake leaned down, one hand braced on either side of your head, boxing you in completely. His breath was hot against your cheek.

“Keep lying to me,” he whispered, voice rough. “See what happens.”

Your whole body lit up like a struck match.

You should have pushed him away. Should have said something. But instead you just sat there frozen, your fingers curling tight around the hem of your shirt, your body screaming for him even as your brain short-circuited.

He was so close you could smell his cologne — fresh and warm — and see the way his pupils had blown wide with want.

Jake was the one who moved first.

He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to look at him, and for a long, heavy moment, neither of you said anything. Just breathing each other in, hearts racing, tension snapping and sparking between you like a live wire.

And then — God help you — you leaned up first.

Just the smallest tilt of your head.

It was all he needed.

Jake crashed his mouth to yours, swallowing your gasp, his hands already sliding under your thighs to haul you into his lap like he couldn’t stand one more second of not touching you.

Jake kissed you like he was starving. Like he’d been holding back for months and finally, finally cracked. His hands roamed everywhere — up your sides, squeezing your hips, sliding under your shirt to grab handfuls of bare skin. You moaned into his mouth, thighs tightening around his waist, and that was all it took for him to groan low in his throat and tip you back against the couch cushions.

“You have no idea,” he muttered against your lips, breath ragged. “No fucking idea what you do to me.”

You whimpered, arching into him without even thinking. Every part of you was lit up, buzzing, desperate to get closer. You fumbled at the hem of his shirt, tugging it up, and he helped you rip it off — tossing it somewhere behind the couch — before returning to your mouth, devouring you like he couldn’t get enough.

Somewhere in the haze, you slid your hand down, palming him through his jeans — and Jake shuddered, hips bucking instinctively into your touch.

“Fuck,” he growled, forehead dropping to yours. “Baby, don’t start something you can’t finish.”

You grinned, breathless, and slid down to your knees without a second thought.

Jake watched you the whole way down — chest heaving, jaw clenched so tight it looked like it hurt — and when you palmed him again, teasing, he let out a broken noise that made you ache.

“Please,” you whispered, fingers fumbling with his zipper. “Want to taste you.”

His hand tangled roughly in your hair as you freed him, eyes flashing dark as you wrapped your lips around the tip. He was already half-hard, heavy and hot against your tongue, and when you hollowed your cheeks and sucked gently, he cursed, the sound ripped straight from his chest.

“God—fuck, just like that,” Jake hissed, tightening his grip on your hair and forcing you down a little more. “So fucking pretty like this.”

You moaned around him, which made his hips jerk — pushing deeper into your mouth — and suddenly he was the one losing control, fucking into your throat in shallow, desperate thrusts.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but you loved it, loved how wrecked he sounded, how much he clearly needed you. You reached down between your own legs, too needy to care anymore, but before you could even slip a hand under your shorts, Jake yanked you back by your hair.

“Nuh-uh,” he panted, voice rough and wrecked. “Don’t you dare.”

You blinked up at him, dazed and dripping.

“But—”

“I said no,” Jake growled, thumb swiping over your wet bottom lip. “You don’t get to touch yourself. You want to cum, you do it on me.”

Your stomach flipped so violently you swayed a little.

“Get up here,” Jake ordered, voice wrecked. “Now.”

You scrambled into his lap, your heart hammering, legs shaking — and Jake just grinned, dark and feral, guiding you to straddle him.

“Good girl,” he murmured, pressing a filthy kiss to your throat. “Now let me ruin you properly.”

Jake grabbed your hips, grinding you down against the thick, hot line of his cock still straining inside his jeans. The friction made you gasp, made you chase it helplessly, rubbing yourself over him with little broken noises you couldn’t hold back.

“Feel that?” he rasped against your ear. “You did that. Getting me this fucking hard just from looking at you.”

You whimpered, rocking your hips harder, chasing some kind of relief, but Jake’s grip tightened — holding you still, making you whine in frustration.

“Not yet,” he said roughly. “You don’t get it that easy, baby. You want it? Beg.”

You were already trembling, drunk on him, on the way he talked to you like you were something precious he still wanted to ruin.

“Jake,” you whined, trying to move again, but he just smirked, smug and dark, keeping you pinned against him. “Please.”

“Please what?” he teased, one hand sliding up your body to tug at the neckline of your shirt, exposing the top of your breasts. “Gotta tell me exactly what you want.”

“I—I want you,” you gasped, blushing so hard it hurt. “Want your cock, please, Jake, need you so bad—”

That broke something in him.

In one quick movement, he unzipped his jeans, shoved them just low enough, and freed himself — hot, flushed, already leaking at the tip. He grabbed himself, dragging the thick head along the soaked crotch of your shorts, teasing you, making you cry out in frustration.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he muttered, voice thick with lust. “Bet I could slide right in.”

“Please,” you begged again, desperate tears welling up in your eyes.

Jake finally — finally — gave in.

He yanked your shorts to the side, lined himself up, and pushed the blunt head of his cock just barely inside you, hissing through his teeth at the feel of your heat clenching around him.

“Only the tip,” he growled, voice shaking with restraint. “You wanna cum, you’re doing all the work.”

You whined, digging your nails into his shoulders, and started to rock your hips — sliding down just a little more with each desperate roll. Jake’s head fell back against the couch, groaning low and filthy, letting you fuck yourself down onto him inch by inch.

“God, look at you,” he panted, dark eyes locked on the way you moved on him. “So fucking needy. So desperate to be filled.”

You could barely take it, your body burning, every nerve ending stretched tight — and before you knew it, you were bouncing properly, gasping every time you dropped down and took more of him inside you.

Jake let you.

Jake watched you.

Until finally he grabbed your hips and slammed you all the way down, making you cry out as he bottomed out inside you.

“There you go,” he rasped, eyes blazing. “Take it all, babe.”

You clung to him, overwhelmed, as he started thrusting up into you — hard, relentless, fucking you so deep you saw stars.

prompt request list

[togeppy]

behind (un)locked doors ;

bodhi durran x tavis!reader

garrick discovers that his younger sister has been in a secret relationship with bodhi and takes his duties as a protective older brother very seriously. ✧ : slight nsfw near the beginning but I don't write smut as of rn so it's super surface level and like 3 sentences lmao

The first rule of being in a secret relationship should probably be to make sure you always lock the door behind you. Usually, this would be your priority - double checking that no one was around to watch you slip into a secret alcove, only passing stolen kisses in the quiet of an empty classroom, and locking the damned door. Only, today Bodhi looked so ridiculously beautiful as he trained his squad that your priority was elsewhere; you desperately needed to get your lips on him, and he needed to get his hands on you - beelining your way to the solitude of his room was the only thing on either of your minds.

The only issue that both of you neglected to consider was that for marked ones, an unlocked door guaranteed uninvited visitors.

An unlocked door wouldn't have been a problem if your older brother, Garrick, hadn't been looking for you to let you know that he had some spare time to give you extra training. It wouldn't have caused any issues if he hadn't run into Emery in the hallway, who told your brother that he saw you and Bodhi head into the second year's room only moments before. It wouldn't have resulted in the situation you're currently in if the two of you hadn't had such an incredibly platonic relationship over the years, that it didn't even cross the older Tavis' mind to knock, because there was no way the two of you were up to anything that he couldn't just barge into.

The problem was that all of the above did happen, and you and your boyfriend now have to pay for the consequences of your own actions.

Within moments of returning to Bodhi's room, his shirt was discarded onto the floor and you found yourself in his lap as the two of you got comfortable atop his bed. His back leans against his headboard and your mouths are locked together in a passionate kiss, as if starved for one another. Your fingers are lost in his hair, gripping his soft curls as if it will keep you from floating away from pure bliss. His hands are gripping at your ass, fingers kneading at the soft skin, indicative of pure desire.

If humanly possible, you're drawing yourself even further into his embrace when the sound of the door clicking open surprises both you and your boyfriend, instantly causing you to pull apart. You roll off of him to lie on the vacant side of the bed and bury your face in the pillow as if hiding your face will make you unrecognizable to the unwanted guest, and Bodhi makes a show of being very interested in the ceiling.

"Hey, I've got like an hour free-" the all-too-familiar voice sounds as it enters the room, but quickly goes silent. You don't even have to look back at the man standing in the doorway to know what expression he wears: jaw ticking in annoyance after having snapped shut, mouth set in an unamused line, and broad arms crossed over his chest to make himself look larger and more intimidating than he already does.

You peel your face away from the pillow hesitantly to get a look at your brother, and sure enough, you've got it down to a tee. His eyes bore into you, fury apparent on his face as he takes in the sight before him.

"Explain. Now," he growls out, finally properly entering the room and shutting the door behind him. And locking it. As you very clearly should have done.

Bodhi squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds before reopening them and finally looking at the angry man before him, dread apparent on his face. "We were just… studying."

Garrick's expression is unwavering as his eyes move from Bodhi's swollen lips down to his bare chest, and to both of your packs laying next to his own feet, very clearly shut and untouched with all of your books inside. "Try again."

You and Bodhi glance at each other, a moment of terrified eye contact before you grimace, hoping that he won't take his anger out too severely on either of you. "So… my dear big brother who I love very much…"

The man walks closer to the edge of the bed and if even possible, levers a more terrifying gaze on both of you. "Cut the crap. Is this a hookup or is this an ongoing thing that the two of you have neglected to mention to me?"

Bodhi scratches the back of his head, clearly puzzled as to which answer will result in a lesser punishment for both of you. On one hand, claiming it's a hookup would mean you could pretend nothing has happened before today, but it would end in Garrick beating the shit out of Bodhi for trying to sleep with his little sister. On the other hand, telling him the truth might mean your brother would hopefully see that you two are serious about each other, but would cause him to get angry about not being kept in the loop… and probably still end with Garrick beating the shit out of Bodhi.

You loose a sigh and wince, knowing you'll have to face the man's wrath regardless of your response. "The second one."

Garrick stands still for a moment, his expression unreadable as his gaze darts between the two of you. For a moment there's a tense silence as both you and your boyfriend wait to see his reaction.

"Does anyone else know? Does Xaden?"

You shake your head. "No."

"And how long has this," he gestures between the two of you, and you feel yourself turn a deep shade of red, "been going on?"

"Three months." Bodhi answers, speaking with extreme caution as if any word will cause your brother to pounce on him at any given second. Both of you are walking on eggshells, waiting for the mass destruction you know is coming.

The older boy tenses, raising an eyebrow at you. "Three whole fucking months? And when exactly were you planning on mentioning this to me?"

You scratch your head, thinking of the best answer to give him. You and Bodhi had discussed when would be the best time to mention your relationship to Garrick and Xaden, but you were both scared that it would change everything. With Bodhi being one of Garrick's best friends, and the four of you essentially being as close as family growing up, you were worried that if anything went south it would tear your group apart. So, you decided to keep it a secret until you were sure that you were committed to making the relationship work.

"Soon, we swear," Bodhi starts, unsure of how to best relay your plans to your brother, given that they weren't exactly concrete, "We just… wanted to be sure that this was going to work before making it public."

"And so even after three whole months, you still weren't sure enough to tell your own brother?" Garrick retorts, voice so levelled it sends a shiver down your spine, "Don't you think that might have been indication enough?"

Before you can stop them, the words are exiting your lips faster than you can force them back in. "Well, most people usually wait until after three months to announce pregnancies. I'd say three months is pretty standard to announce big relationship news."

The regret instantly floods your whole system as soon as you finish your sentence, and Garrick responds immediately, moving to your side of the bed, ready to swipe at you for your snark. You jump over Bodhi with a yelp, and he follows you, the two of you now standing with the bed in between you and the third-year. Your boyfriend stands slightly in front of you, ready to protect you from any hits Garrick might toss your way; while you know your brother won't hurt you too bad, you've definitely roughhoused in the past and know that despite his overprotectiveness, he isn't afraid of leaving you with a couple of bruises after a fight.

"Forget she said that," Bodhi tries to recover on your behalf, shooting you a mildly annoyed look from over his shoulder, "But we are sure about the two of us. Just… you wouldn't have wanted us to casually tell you over breakfast would you? We were just waiting for the right moment."

Garrick cracks his knuckles as he stares down the man in front of him. "You think that's going to change my opinion of this all? You're one of my best friends and I trusted you to keep an eye out for my little sister. She's the only damned person I care about keeping safe in this hellhole, and despite all the trust I had in you, you went and started sleeping with her behind my back?" Your brother points an accusatory finger at Bodhi, before moving it in your direction, "And you… do you want to even talk about how shitty it is to find out like this that my only family left has been keeping a secret this major from me?"

Both you and Bodhi are stunned to silence, and you feel your heart breaking in your chest despite the fear you felt only minutes ago. You knew that it was wrong of you both to keep this from him for so long, but you were so consumed by your own fear of ruining the group dynamics and the excitement of being in a secret relationship that you barely considered how finding out that you've been keeping this a secret would impact your brother.

"Gare, I'm so sorry," you whisper, your eyes sincerely apologetic as you lock eyes with your brother whose rage-filled expression now holds traces of betrayal.

"I'm sorry for keeping this a secret, but I'm not sorry that any of this happened," Bodhi speaks up boldly, causing Garrick to snap his gaze over to the boy and narrow his eyes, confused yet still angry, "I have been keeping an eye out for your sister, and us being in a relationship hasn't changed that. If anything, it's just made me even more protective over her. If you think I'm going to let anyone hurt her when I'm around, you're out of your damn mind."

The tension between them reminds you that despite the fact that you're Garrick's sibling, Bodhi is one of his best friends - he has a long-standing relationship with your brother that makes him unafraid to challenge him when others would cower in fear. Garrick moves around the bed obviously to give Bodhi a piece of his mind, but you step between the two men, placing a firm hand on Garrick's chest to stop him from advancing.

"Hear him out for a second," you beg, your voice barely above a whisper, "Please."

The third-year levels a look on you for a second, before crossing his arms once again over his chest, eyes boring into his friend, letting him know that he's allowing him to continue speaking, though he's not happy about it.

"I love your sister, and I am so damn serious about this relationship. I don't give a flying fuck if you approve of us or not, but I will never betray the trust that you put in me to keep her safe. If it's the last thing I do, I will make sure that anyone that threatens her safety will pay."

You can't hide the shocked look on your face - you and Bodhi had only been dating for three months, so you had never said that you loved each other, but you know without a doubt that you feel the same way about him despite the words going unspoken until now.

Garrick stares at the boy for a moment, deep in thought. It's as if you can physically see the gears turning in his head as he decides how to proceed. He finally lets out a sigh, and then his gaze turns to you.

"Do you love him?"

Without hesitation, you drop your arm from where you were holding your brother back, and nod. "Yes. I do."

"And he… treats you well?" the older boy asks, gaze skeptically jumping to his friend, seeing as he's the person that knows the most about the kinds of antics your boyfriend gets up to.

"Extremely well." You nod once again, a smile gracing your lips as you look back at Bodhi for a second. "Besides, wouldn't you rather me date your best friend than another guy in the quadrant? Imagine how much different this situation would be if you had walked in on me with Aetos instead."

Garrick and Bodhi both look appalled for a moment, causing you to laugh slightly, easing some of the tension in the room. A slight smile lights up Garrick's lips, before they fall back into a straight line.

"Durran, if you ever break her heart I will break your jaw, get Nolon to mend it, and then break it again before you can recover. Got it?" he threatens, icy gaze trained back on Bodhi.

The boy nods, a smile now on his face, relief taking over both of you as the situation you had dreaded for so long has finally been dealt with. "Got it, Tavis."

Garrick stands for a moment again, surveying both of you for a minute before slowly nodding and heading for the door. He unlocks it and moves to step through the doorframe, before looking back at you for a moment again. "Just to be clear, I never want to see PDA from either of you. Keep it behind locked doors from now on."

He walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him. You and Bodhi both breathe a sigh of relief, both of you mentally exhausted from the altercation. With an exhale, you flop down on the bed, your body going limp now that the air in the room no longer feels so heavy. Your boyfriend softly smiles at the sight, before a deeper cheeky smile lights up his face. He moves across the room to where your brother stood only seconds before, and presses the lock with a light 'click.'

Your head snaps up to see him approaching you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he leans over you.

"Now that that's out of the way, how about picking up where we left off?"

bonus:

At dinner the next day, you sit chatting with Imogen and Liam, advising the first-year boy on how to stay as far away from burnout as possible when dealing with Professor Carr's training. Liam lets out an exhausted sigh as he defeatedly takes a bite of the bread on his plate, and you and Imogen chuckle, knowing what he's had to endure.

Your eyes flicker up as a flurry of movement approaches your table, and your smile falls when you see your boyfriend limp over to you as he sits down, his lip busted open and caked with blood.

"What the hell happened to you?" Imogen questions, and Bodhi doesn't respond, eyes only moving to the two larger forms that come and join your group. Garrick and Xaden have matching mischievous smiles on both of their faces.

Your brother takes a bite of an apple as he sits down, his expression full of pure joy despite the bruises forming along his own jaw as he gives you a content smile. "Bodhi just needed a little ass kicking today. No biggie."

You roll your eyes, shooting the third-year an annoyed look, to which he only beams in response. "Was that really necessary?"

"Not really," he laughs, taking another bite of his food and leaning back in his seat, "But you bet I enjoyed it."

[thegingerparty]

I was tagged in Tidbit Tuesday by @sad-girl-hours23 so now seems like a great time to say that I am in fact writing a fic based on this -> https://www.tumblr.com/thegingerparty/782024880658989056/okay-but-why-havent-we-talked-about-dailey-planet?source=share post!! I'm really excited about it and I hope it doesn't take me a million years to write. lol.

______________

"Do you think he had plastic surgery?"

Eddie pauses in his typing. "I'm not even sure I want to ask."

"For his cleft, I mean."

A myriad of expressions cross Eddie's face before finally settling on something like bemusement. "Pretty sure that's natural, bud."

"You think?" Buck rests his chin in his hand, gazing across the room at where Tommy sits typing on his own computer. He watches as Tommy squints at the computer, before pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Buck's stomach clenches.

He quickly turns back to Eddie. "What about his jawline?" he presses. "There's no way that is all natural."

The loudest sigh Buck has ever heard slowly releases from Eddie's lips. "Buck," he says. His tone of voice is the same one he uses whenever Buck has started oversharing.

"What?" he responds defensively, pulling back to cross his arms over his chest. "Its a valid question!"

"No, Buck, it really isn't." The clicking of the keys continues as Eddie picks up his typing again. He's been really excited about this week's coverage, since the Rangers are in town. You can't take the Tex out of the mex, or however the saying goes. "I thought you guys really hit it off, when you gave him the tour?"

"See, that's what I thought, too!"

"But then…" Buck can feel himself losing Eddie's attention rapidly. He's even more annoyed Taylor is at the city council meeting today, he could really use someone else to vent to about this.

"But then he reconnected with Hen and Chim from when they worked at the Times and Athena agreed to work with him on a case during his second week! I had to wait months for her to work with me voluntarily." Eddie hums noncommittally, frowning at his document. He probably accidentally made every right justified again and is trying to figure out how to change it back.

"And! I know the two of you have been going to bar trivia together on Thursday's after work." Buck accuses, pulling out the big guns. He sits back in the chair smugly as Eddie freezes. He looks over at Buck out of the corner of his eye, not even turning his head.

"Technically, its karaoke trivia," Eddie says. "And I haven't invited you because…." He trails off.

"Because you-you want to exclude me from fun? You want to keep the new guy all to yourself? Sorry that I still don't understand baseball Eddie, but it's not like you can blame me. I mean, the short stop isn't even short! They're usually tall!"

Eddie has taken to rubbing his forehead, a sure sign he's about to professionally tell Buck to fuck off any second.

"I haven't invited you because you hate singing in public unless you're tipsy, which you don't like to do during the week, and because you can be kind of…intense about trivia. I didn't want to scare Tommy off right away."

Buck scoffs. "I am not that bad." he insists.

"You got us kicked out because you kept arguing with the host about how the answers were actually wrong. At three different bars!"

"Well they were wrong." he grouses, borderline pouting, now, even though he would never admit it. "And if it happened again, I would have made sure to keep my cool in front of Tommy."

"Buck you tripped me when walking into the elevator yesterday so you could get in first and stand between us." Eddie has his patent "Dad Face" on, like he's about to ground Buck for a week.

"You can't prove that." Buck says airily.

Eddie just shakes his head. "Listen, whatever it is you have against this guy, you need to get over it. I mean, you barely even work with him, no one is forcing you to interact with him if you don't want to."

Buck rolled his eyes. Eddie was so missing the point. Because the thing is, Buck had wanted to interact with Tommy, had been looking forward to it. But somewhere along the way everyone else had gotten there first and now Buck was stuck trying to figure out how to either make an impression on him, or find a way to ignore him completely.

(He had been trying that for days.)

(It wasn't working.)

Which meant his only choice was to make an impression.

Tagging @queermccoy @dharmaavocado and @thefixations-ofmine if they so desire and anyone else that reads this and wants to share!

[seros-girl]

Hai bestieeeee! I've thought about this for a fic that I'm sure ONLY YOU can create (bc you write the best fics in my opinion). Basically, it's prom at UA (or wtvr, a school dance of some sort), Katsuki and y/n are dating, slow dance to Golden Hour by JVKE, corny stuff said about how much they love each other and shit (the whole couples shebang). At some point, Kats sees y/n dancing with some friends, having the time of their lives under the LED lights, looking BEAUTIFUL. After the dance, when they go back to the dorms, y/n decides to sleep over in Katsuki's room...iykyk (I'M ASKING YOU TO HAVE SOME SLOW-FUCK SMUT IN IT IF YOU COULDN'T TELL)(Only if you're good w it tho <3) -love the soups😁

oh how i love this idea, i’ve enjoyed writing it!! i hope you love it!!

“there all done” momo said as she helped tie the back of your prom dress. the most beautiful shade of orange, made out of silk material.

mitsuki made it specifically for you, tailored to your needs. “bakugo is going to die” jiro said, hand on her chest as she admired you.

you slipped on the black heels that hagakure eagerly handed to you. “bakugo deceased!” mina says excitedly as she spins you around.

you and the girls of class A have the tightest bond considering there is only 6 of you. you walk out of momo’s dorm, hand in hand with mina.

you all giggled as you walked down the flights of stairs to reach the common room. your giggles died down as you reached the last step, eyes immediately landing on bakugo.

his mouth parts slightly as he sees you for the first time that day. mina whisked you away from him for the whole day to make this moment all the more special.

kirishima notices bakugo’s stiffness and smirks at denki and sero. he claps bakugo on the shoulders and leans in. “you should start walking to her you know” he says, tone low only bakugo can hear.

“i know that shitty hair” bakugo replies, calmly almost as if he’s out of it, cause he’s still staring directly at you in awe.

you slowly walk towards him with the biggest smile on your face, he meets you in the middle and smiles down at you.

“hi” he breathes out, nervously. “hi” you breathe out too, taking in how he looks for the evening. “you clean up nice” you smiled up at him as he leans in closer to you.

“you look beautiful” he whispers to you as he places a loving kiss on your forehead. “pictures!” mina yells as its heard throughout the common room.

you intertwine your fingers with bakugo’s as you led him out of the common room and in front of the dormitory complex.

“the girls first” mina shoves her phone into kirishima’s hands as he fiddles with it. you pose with the girls, smiles and all as kirishima and the other boys snap pictures for you guys.

“bakugo and y/n come on” mina ushere you and bakugo to pose next to each other. “hand on her waist man” kirishima says giving bakugo pointers.

you giggled as bakugo scowls but places his hand on your lower waist. talk about hand placement. you smiled widely as one of your hands rested on katsuki’s chest, your body turned towards him.

as mina snapped the pictures, bakugo’s hand would move lower and lower. “nice hand placement bakuhoe” mina winked at the both of you as bakugo finally starts to drag you away.

katsuki leads you towards the gym where the staff spent the day decorating just for you third years. loud music can be heard as you walk in, your heart thumping to the sound of the bass.

you claim a table as bakugo says he’d be back with drinks for the both of you. “this is so exciting!” mina says as she sits next to you.

her red dress compliments her pink skin tone. “wait shoot mic is taking our prom pictures?! lets go!” denki says dragging poor jiro along.

you giggled as jiro looks back and mouths a ‘help me’ with the biggest smile on her face. “here” you hear bakugo say as a drink lands in front of you. he takes the seat next to you and pulls his chair closer to you.

“ugh i cant handle you two im out” mina says winking at you and getting up to find kirishima. bakugo’s hand lands on your knee.

“you look absolutely stunning” he says eyes trained on your face. you blush and look down, avoiding his gaze. “no we dont do that” he says gently lifting your face back up to meet his eyes.

“well you look really handsome kats” you compliment him back. even after 2 years, you still get those butterflies around katsuki.

“ponytail did wonders on your face” he says and moves your hair behind your shoulder, his hand coming up to your face to gently caress it.

“she only enhanced your features and i find that absolutely beautiful” he says and you smile at him, leaning in to his touch.

“were stealing her” ochako says as she grabs your arm gently. you get up and giggle at katsuki. “i’ll be back” you said to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“pictures now!” mina says marching towards your guys’ english teacher. “mina slow down!” hagakure giggles out, her green hair bouncing around.

“whats up present mic” mina greets him with a handshake. “yo yo yo whats up!” he says and smiles at all of you.

“the girls of class A alright huddle up!” he says and you all huddle around together. you were in the front with jiro, hagakure, and tsu.

“say plus ultra!” present mic says as you all smiled yelling out a ‘plus ultra!’. “aizawa will give these photos to you in class on monday. go on enjoy your prom” he says to you guys and you thank him.

mina stops walking as you all turned to look at her. she looked sad. “whats wrong mina?” jiro asked placing a hand on her shoulder.

mina shook her head as she fought off tears, “i just wish miss midnight was here to see all of this” she says.

“i dont mean to kill the mood its just,” she pauses as she sighs out, “i really wish she was here”

momo pulls her into a hug as you all followed. “okay we can cry after come on” mina laughs softly as you all dispersed from the hug.

“thank you” she says gratefully as you all smiled at her. “okay she’s mine now!” ojiro says grabbing hagakure and walking off with her.

tokoyami comes out of nowhere and grabs tsu. “m’lady” denki says grabbing jiro’s hand. she rolls her eyes playfully as denki drags her away.

you giggle as bakugo comes up and grabs you by the waist. “come on” he says and whisks you away to the dance floor.

you dance your heart out with bakugo for an hour. “oof my feet are killing me” you said as you sat down. sero was sitting on his own at the table.

“hey whatcha doing sitting down?” you asked him as you kicked off your heels and rubbed at your toes to soothe the ache.

“got no date” he shrugs looking at his friends. kirishima and denki dragged bakugo to some dance as mina and jiro danced off together to the side.

“you dont have to have a date to have fun” you said reassuring sero. “i know you wanted to be here with toru huh?” you asked him and he turns his head to you.

“she makes more sense with ojiro” he shrugs. you looked around the gym, your eyes land on a girl from class B. “look at yui” you said nodding your head in her direction.

“looks like she needs someone” you smirked at sero as he looks at her. “you think she’ll want to dance with me?” he asks you and you nod.

“oh hell yea” you said. golden hour by JVKE starts playing and you slip your heels on again. “just in time for the slow dance go on” you ushered him and het gets up immediately booking it to her.

bakugo comes over and takes both of your hands, pulling you up. he leads you to the dance floor and his hands find home on your waist.

yours immediately wrapping around his neck as he softly sways the both of you. “how has your night been?” he asks you as he holds eye contact.

oh how you’ll never get tired of bakugo’s crimson eyes. “been amazing having you by my side” you said sincerely as you smile.

he presses a loving kiss to your forehead, “you know i love you right?” he tells you and you nod, leaning in closer to him. “mhm and you know i love you right?” you tell him and he nods.

you lean up and press a light kiss to his jaw. “youre so handsome, i cant believe youre mine” you said as you cupped his face in one of your hands, him immediately melting at your touch.

“and youre the most precious girl ever” he says leaning down and capturing your lips with his. you kiss back immediately, your hands moving towards his hair.

he pulls away to kiss down your cheek, your jaw, your neck as you giggle. “i love you” he breathes against your skin. “and i love you” you said.

the songs comes to an end as present mic switches up the beat. you and bakugo pull away, trapped in each others arms, you smile at him.

“were stealing her again” momo says to bakugo as he groans but ultimately lets them take you away. “sorry bakuhoe” mina giggles as kirishima laughs.

“BAKUHOE” kirishima, denki, and sero laugh. the lighting in the gym has switched up to match the vibe. LED lights change from red to purple to blue to green to yellow and repeat.

you hold onto mina’s hands as you jump in place together, screaming out lyrics together. bakugo watches from afar as he sips on his drink, todoroki and izuku engrossed in conversation as their dates dance with each other.

momo and ochako giggle together and twirl each other around. “look at our girls” kirishima says standing next to bakugo.

bakugo doesnt respond as he watches the smile on your face never fade. jiro pulls her phone out as she holds it as high up as she can. “cheese!” the girls screamed out and laughed. it can be heard throughout the gym.

“wheres sero?” denki asks and bakugo nods his head in the direction of sero and yui. “sero’s got game” kirishima and denki fist bump each other.

the night comes to an end as the gym slowly dies down. your feet are killing you, but you still have the walk to the dorms.

“want me to carry you?” bakugo asks you as you grab your purse. “no baby its fine” you said waving it off but he still scoops you up anyway.

“why cant i get princess treatment” mina whines out as she trails behind everyone, her feet killing her. “oh my mina!” kirishima exclaims running back to pick her up.

you rest your head against bakugo’s chest. “can i stay in yours tonight?” you ask him softly. he looks down at you and kisses your forehead, “mhm”.

“goodnight guys” you said to kirishima and mina as he carries her into his room. bakugo gently puts you down on his bed as he kneels down to remove your heels for you.

once off you sigh in relief. he gently moves your toes around to soothe them and you giggle. “what?” he asks with a smile. “nothing” you said looking down at him.

he stands, removing his tie in one go. you sitting there, engulfed in his blazer, is doing something to him. he throws his tie somewhere in his room and hovers over you.

his lips make contact with yours in a slow, desperate kiss. his hands grip your waist as yours tug at his hair. your nervous.

you and katsuki have never done it before and you have a great feeling, tonight is the night. prom night duh of course.

katsuki’s hands roam your sides, trying to memorize every inch of you. you hum into the kiss as you move your fingers down to the buttons on his shirt.

you slowly start unbuttoning them as he pulls away to look at you. “are you sure?” he asks out of breath. his cheeks are slightly red and his lips look swollen and pink.

“mhm” you say nodding your head with sureness. “now kiss me” you say unbuttoning the rest and pushing the shirt off.

your hands move across his chest, feeling every muscle he has. “gosh youre so handsome” you whisper out as he grabs your thighs and gently pulls you closer.

“‘m not sure if i want it with your dress on or off” he sighs out as he moves down to press kisses to your neck. “youre pretty both ways” he breathes against your skin.

his hands move towards your back as you arch yourself against him to give him access to untie the dress. he works his fingers to untie it all while kissing your neck, sucking & biting gently.

your soft moans fill the room, as quietly as possible. katsuki groans against your skin as he manages to untie your dress and the straps start falling down your shoulders.

he pulls your dress off for you gently, trying not to ruin it. “oh my” he says as he sees you for the very first time, ever. youre laying there, a matching orange lingerie set on your body.

“youre trying to kill me” he says as he hovers over you and kisses you. your hands move towards his belt, undoing it.

you undo the button on his dress pants and you slowly remove them, your lips never leaving his. he helps kick them off and grabs your waist bringing you closer to him.

his fingers toy with your lace panties as he sighs out. “these are pretty but” he says as he removes them for you. “i’ve never done this” he admits and you only smile at him.

“remember i havent either” you said reassuring him. “help me?” he asks as his fingers ghost over your pussy. “what makes you so sure i’ve touched myself before?” you smirk up at him as you lean up on your elbows.

he cocks his head to the side, “mina cant keep her mouth shut and you know it” he says smirking. you grab his wrist gently as you move his hand where you desperately need him most.

you wince as his fingers make contact with your throbbing cunt. “like this?” he asks as he gathers your wetness and spreads it around, hitting your clit.

“mhm” you manage out as you lean up to capture his lips with yours. bakugo gets the hang of it immediately, dipping his middle finger into your entrance as you moan into his mouth.

he gently curls his finger up and you arch into him. his thumb finds home on your clit as he adds another finger, stretching you out for him.

“kats- oh” you moan into his mouth as he pants softly. he stops all movement as his fingers slide out from you. “hey what are you-?” you ask him as he picks you up and places you gently down by the headboard of his bed.

he reaches into his bedside drawer, pulling out a box of unopened condoms. “kirishima gifted me these” he says as he fiddles with the plastic around the box.

you watch him struggle to open it and you giggle at his attempts. “want me to open it?” you ask extending your arm for the box. he reluctantly gives it to you and takes a seat next to you, hand rested on your inner thigh.

you opened it fast as you pulled one out handing it to him. “do the honors baby” you winked at him as he tears the foil and pulls out the condom.

he rolls it on as he positions himself on top of you, one of his hands holding your leg up against his side, the other on your waist to keep you steady.

“are you ready?” he asks you and you nod. “are you?” you ask him as he nods his head yes. he aligns himself against your entrance and slowly pushes himself in.

your arms fly around katsuki’s neck as your nails scratch his back. you dont make a sound as he pushes himself in even more. its not painful, only a slight discomfort.

he sighs as he’s inside completely and so do you. he stops to let a moment linger, making sure you are completely comfortable.

“you can move kats” you whisper in his ear as he gently starts rocking his hips back and forth. soft moans and groans is all you hear in katsuki’s room.

“oh god” he sighs out burying his head in your neck, kissing and gently sucking. “you feel so good” he says and you clench around him, him wincing from the pleasure.

“im close” you told him as he lifts his head to look at you. “i love you” he breathes out, hand coming up to caress your face.

“i love you more” you managed out as he brings you closer to him, your lips connecting. he kisses you gently as he keeps the steady pace going. “im coming” you said into his mouth. “im not far behind” he grunts as you both come at the same time.

katsuki gently thrusts into you a couple of times to ride out both of your orgasms. he collapses on top of you as you hold him against you.

“you and me forever?” he asks you and you nod your head immediately. “its you and me forever kats” you said as you lift his head up to gently press a kiss to his lips.

he softly pulls out, careful not to hurt you. he ties the condom off and disposes it into his nearby trashcan. “you wanna take a shower?” he asks you as he holds you in his arms.

“mhm it would be nice” you answer as he slowly gets up to start the warm shower for you both. he picks clothes out for the both of you as you sit up, his black sheets covering your naked form, you watch katsuki move around his room.

he helps you up as he leads you to the bathroom, peppering your shoulder and neck with kisses. the warm water hits your back and you sigh out in relief.

“i love you” katsuki says as he wraps his arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder. you lean back into him with a content smile on your face. “i love you more” you said as you both swayed silently under the warm water.

you lean your head against katsuki’s chest and you listen to his heartbeat. after losing him once, you always make sure to listen to his heart beat anytime you can, just to make sure he’s really here.

“im here” he reassures you and you sigh out contentedly. “i know” you reply turning around to capture his lips with yours.

oh how you love your katsuki bakugo.

[slasherslittlesimp]

Cursed (Avengers X Reader)

Part One

PART TWO

Natasha's hands skillfully fly across the keyboard at one of the computers as she types in code after code, likely bypassing any security and downloading the files to her drive. Her eyes flicker around the screen, taking in whatever information she sees. Cap remains by the door, keeping watch for anyone who might try to sneak up on all of you.

"I believe I've found her file but it's quite large Cap." She doesn't take her gaze from the screen as she reads through the first page. "We'll have to wait until we get back to the compound to read through it more thoroughly but I can at least figure out the basics now."

"The basics are all we really need right now." He responds, glancing at you before returning most of his attention to the doorway.

Your nerves grow slightly knowing that they'll be reading through everything that you've been through at some point. Your life up to this point hasn't been the prettiest and it's not exactly something you want anyone else knowing. You know you don't have much of a choice though.

"Let's see..." Natasha squints slightly as she reads over the small writing on the screen. "Says here that her name is (Y/N) (L/N) and that she's roughly twenty-five years old." She pauses, clicking a few times as she likely searches for the more important information. "Ah, here we go. Her ability is called 'Cursed Speech'. Apparently whatever she says pretty much happens. That explains the muzzle."

The man seems intrigued with this as he finally moves away from the door to come read over her shoulder. They both remain silent, not giving you any clue as to what they're reading. Your eyes flicker between them and the door, nervous that someone can come through now that they're not keeping watch.

Thankfully, once the files are completely downloaded they both step away, Natasha grabbing the drive before turning towards you. "Let's go." She jerks her head in a motion to signal that you need to follow them once again.

The three of you exit the server room- Cap leading followed by you and then Natasha taking up the rear. You're pretty certain the formation is both to keep you from bolting and to also keep you protected should anyone show up. You're not complaining either way since you're not being left behind this way.

They lead you down many different hallways without ever once second guessing if they're going the right way. The man must have one hell of a memory if he's able to remember his exact route that he had taken. It's even more impressive knowing that everything's backwards since he's going the opposite way. If it was you, you would've already gotten lost. If the two abandoned you, you'd never find your way to an exit or even back to your room.

Cap goes around one last corner before finally reaching a large metal door at the end of a corridor. It must be the door they entered through since the locking mechanism appears broken allowing him to swing the door open effortlessly. Your eyes squeeze shut at the sudden brightness before slowly opening into a squint. You've forgotten how bright and intense the sun can be after spending so long in barely lit rooms. While the light is a bit much, the warmth from it spreads pleasantly over what little skin you have showing.

You don't get much of a chance to bask in it as Natasha grabs your upper arm, tugging you along until you're boarding a jet that has a few others on it. You have no idea who any of them are but they all seem wary and confused at your presence. You probably look insane with how you're dressed but there's not much you can do about it.

Natasha pushes you down into a seat before clasping a buckle over your lap and moving towards the cockpit. You watch her go before turning to take a better look at the other people around you. The first one to draw your attention is a rather nervous looking gentleman with dark hair that has speckles of gray in it and glasses. His hands rub together as he likely tries to push his nerves away but you can tell from the way he keeps glancing at you that your presence isn't helping.

The next person you examine is a man with sandy colored hair who seems to be looking over his quiver of arrows. Every now and then his gaze will move from what he's doing to you yet his face remains neutral, not letting you know how he feels or what he's thinking at all. Next to him is a young female with long dark hair and a pretty red jacket. Her gaze hasn't left you a single time since you've gotten in the jet though it looks more like she's looking through you rather than at you.

Cap is the next person you look towards, finding him standing tall with his muscular arms crossed over his chest as he has a hushed conversation with the last person in the group- a man sporting red and gold armor. Caps brows are furrowed as he talks, showing that he's thinking quite hard about something. The man in armor seems a bit more nonchalant as he nods along to whatever is being said while at the same time scrolling through a tablet. Their voices are too quiet for you to hear what they're saying so you turn your attention away.

The man with the arrows sends one last glance your way before putting his things away and moving towards the cockpit. Shortly after he disappears from sight the jet whirs to life as it lifts from the ground. Your stomach flips as you close your eyes, trying to ignore the fact that you're no longer on solid ground. The idea of traveling extremely fast while hovering thousands of miles away from the ground is unnerving, especially when the last time you experienced it was long ago. Nobody else seems to be bothered by it except maybe the guy with glasses but he just seems anxious in general.

"Why's the chick dressed like Hannibal Lecter?" Someone finally speaks up, breaking the tense silence. You keep your eyes closed as you listen but you're able to tell who asked based off of the direction the voice came from. Only two people were standing off to your right and you already know what the one sounds like which narrows it down to the man in armor.

"That's what I'd like to know." Cap sighs as he glances over to you. "Nat and I managed to get her files so we can go over them all together once we return to the compound."

"Let's just hope she's not a cannibal." Armor man mumbles which earns him a slight scolding from Cap. The rest of the ride is silent after that which you're somewhat thankful for. You hate listening to people talk about you. You'd much rather sit in complete silence regardless of how tense or awkward it is.

After an unknown amount of time, the jet finally lands at what you're assuming is the compound. You're led off of the flying death trap as soon as the back of it is open by Cap who has a firm grip on your shoulder. Despite your curiosity, you keep your gaze locked to the ground, not wanting to show interest in your new prison. The entire walk is quiet as Cap takes you into a building and down many hallways before finally stopping at a room.

Entering, you're met with a single metal table and chair sitting right in the middle of the room. The two way mirror on the wall confirms that it's an interrogation room. Cap releases his grip from your shoulder as he orders you to sit down. Doing as you're told, you watch him exit without another word. He's probably going to check your files before bothering with questioning you. It's the smart thing to do, after all.

Taglist: @desiree-lee @seventeen-x

[unholybacon355]

Extra Credits

G!P Winter x Im Nayeon

Word Count: 9.2 K

Masterlist

A/N: Do you still remember me? ahahahah I have been busy lately, but finally manages to come back with something "new". Well, if you follow me you will know this is a rewrite of one of my stories from my Kinktober run from last year. I loved so much writing this the first time, so i had to do it again but adding some thing. I didn't knew it gonna ended being this long, but at least was fun to write.

Hope you have fun reading it too.

Of course there were rumors, but there always has been rumors about professors doing that. Not just here, but probably at every university around the world. The thing is that Minjeong never imagined herself being involved in something like that. Also Minjeong never thought that she would need to be on her knees in order to approve this class. She came to Professor Nayeon's office to ask, or beg if necessary, for a chance to earn some extra points to increase her grade and pass her class. Minjeong was thinking of something like extra homework, a special test, maybe even doing Professor’s laundry,  or in the worst case giving her a massage. But nothing remotely close to being on her knees with her face buried between Nayeon’s thighs.

To be honest she had to perform that massage, that was exactly what led to this situation. Because when her professor saw she was willing to do almost everything for not failing her class she took advantage of that. “You should have paid more attention to my lectures instead of gossiping with Yizhuo at the back of the class.” The stare on Nayeon's eyes was severe. “You can’t do a special test, that would not be fair for the rest of the students, those who really paid attention to what I said, but you still can earn those points.” Minjeong was waiting patiently to know what that assignment would be. “ See. Being an attractive and young professor has its pros and cons, and one of their cons is that I have to wear these heels every day.” Minjeong wasn't understanding where this was going, but didn’t dare to interrupt her professor. “ My feet feel so sore that I would really use a massage.”

So this was her task, just give her professor a simple massage on her feet. Just a few moments of discomfort for her and with that Minjeong could save her semester. It wasn´t that terrible, at least she won't have to touch Nayeon's dirty laundry. “I can do that. I’m not an expert but I'm going to give my best to leave your feet all rested and feeling good.” 

“Good girl. Of course you can´t tell anyone about this. This would be our little secret.” Minjeong moved her head in a sign of aprovation. “Now let’s get into it.” Without hesitation Nayeon reached her feet and slipped her heels off. A moment later her feet were resting over her wooden desk, waiting for Minjeong to touch them.

“No- Now?” The student wasn’t expecting to do such a thing right now. Nayeon didn’t even cleaned her feet or something, she just got rid of her shoes and that was all. 

“I have to report the students' grades by the end of this week. If it isn't right now then going to be never.”

So Minjeong was left with no option. Or she gives Nayeon a massage on her feet or better be looking for a good excuse to give to her parents to explain why she failed this class. To be fair, the first option looked so much better, that’s why Minjeong rolled up her sleeves and began giving the older woman the said massage. “Mmmm… Mis Nayeon. By any chance do you have lotion or some kind of corporal cream?” Minjeong saw in a movie that they were doing massages with that kind of things, so she decided to give it a try. For her luck Nayeon was vain enough to have lotion on one of her drawers. 

Minjeong poured lotion into her hand and then spreaded over Nayeon’s foot. The professor let out a sign of relief  when the cold lotion touched her skin and Minjeon’s finger started to work. In fact Nayeon’s feet felt like she was needing that massage with urgency, and her student was giving her best here.

“That actually feels good, maybe you’re earning those extra credits.” To be fair the student was doing a good job, even with her lack of experience in the matter. Nayeon was sitting very comfortably with her head hanging back and her hands resetting over her tummy. The professor was for sure enjoying this. Minjeong wasn’t.

Nayeon’s feet were quite popular among her weird classmates, males mostly, but Minjeong wasn’t one of those freaks. Even with her pedi being impeccably done in a silver tone, matching with her hands, Minjeong felt nothing doing this because she was touching someone else's dirty feet. Well, Nayeon’s feet weren’t dirty, the professor was spotless; but Minjeong still was a little bit disgusted by this. 

The only good thing she was getting for this agreement was that she had free rein to look at Nayeon’s legs, and that was something she liked a lot. Her professor had perfectly sculpted legs with fine calves and in some way, for a woman with her contexture, meaty thighs. Nayeon’s silky legs have always been a great distraction for Minjeong, and now that she is resting with her head hanging back and her eyes closed, is the perfect moment for her to appreciate them. 

The student's eyes wandered from Nayeon’s ankles to her thighs, and came back to her ankles again. Not missing any detail and trying to carve into her memory how absolutely wonderful Nayeon’s legs were. Was where her eyes ventured further into her professor´s thighs that she noticed something that made her blush. 

In order to sit how she was doing, and being able to open her legs to let Minjeong perform the massage, Nayeon had lifted her skirt. But maybe she lifted it a little too much because her inner thighs were on display, and Minjeong could swear she saw something more; maybe it was her imagination or maybe not. In any case the student focused again on what she was doing, instead of looking like a horny teenager at her professor's legs, with her face blushing because of the shame.  

But there is a saying that goes "Curiosity killed the cat", the thing is that Minjeong is not a cat, so she looked again. This time was more evident, or maybe the skirt magically rolled a little bit up, Minjeong really could see a glimpse of her professor’s underwear. Still not much but enough to tell the garment is white. 

A sound of satisfaction came from Nayeon's mouth and made Minjeong move her head so fast that if this were a cartoon instead of real life, her neck would have sounded like a whiplash. Her face was red, she could feel her cheeks burning. She should just focus on the massage instead of checking out her professor. Better do this quickly and return home because it was getting late.

“You said you aren’t an expert, but you’re making me feel like I was wasting my money paying for massages.” That probably was a lie, but Minjeong appreciated it anyway. “ Can you stretch my toes a little? Wearing heels all day compresses them a lot.” Saying that Nayeon sinked  more on her chair and separated her feet a little bit. 

“Ok Miss Nayeon. I’ll do it.” Minjeong tried to sound normal but from inside she was panicking. She just saw her professor’s underwear, a dream for what some of her classmates would have killed. Nayeon was quite popular among the students for being pretty and always acting funny. She was not as mean as the other professors, and always was wearing formal outfits that accentuated her figure. Nayeon was hot and she knew it, but she has never insinuated to any student. Of course there were rumors, but hot professors always got those kinds of rumors on them. 

Again with the thought that she wasn’t a cat, and with her face feeling considerably less red, Minjeong was debating if she should look again or not. Maybe a little and quick look just to have something to remember, that could not do any harm to her. So taking her time, and without stopping the massage, Minjeong’s eyes started wandering again across her professor's legs. Going up at a slow pase in case she needed to look away, but never stopping to go forward. Soon her gaze reached the point she was looking for, but what she saw this time almost made her jaw drop to the ground.

There was Nayeon, her professor, laying on her desk chair with her skirt wrinkled around her waist and her legs slightly open. Minjeong didn’t look when Nayeon changed her position, but now she was clearly seeing a lot; because with the skirt out of her way and with her legs this open the student could perfectly see her professor’s panties. 

Of course Nayeon was wearing lingerie, and of course was a thong just big enough to cover her private parts. That sight made Minjeong droll almost immediately, and leave her feeling like she was witnessing a work of art that wasn’t meant for her eyes, as if she were standing in the middle of a private galley.

Minjeong swallows hardly the knot that has formed in her throat. If her classmates would gladly commit crimes for touching Nayeon's feet she was sure they would do terrible things to have the chance she's having now, to be able to see her professor's crotch as she was seeing right now.

And as far as Minjeong could see, her professor was completely shaved. She could swear that Nayeon's skin on that spot was softer than her legs, and she really wished she could massage that tender skin instead of Nayeon's feet. Minjeong even could swear she could see something through the lace fabric of the panties. All she needs to do is close her eyes a little to have a better focus on the spot, and…

“Ahem!! Are you enjoying the view?” Poor Minjeong was so focused on checking Nayeon that she forgot to keep her hands moving and she was just holding Nayeon’s feet in place. Now her professor was staring at her with fire in her eyes and a crooked smile. After all, maybe Minjeong was a cat.

“N-no. Miss- professor. I… I…” The words were crowding in her throat and could not come out. Minjeong could feel how her face became as red as ever has been before, she was sure her face could serve a lighthouse in the middle of a storm. She practically could feel her cheeks burning for the shame of being caught looking at her professor´s crotch. “I can explain-”

“Explain what? That you are a pervert?” Despite calling Minjeong like that ,Nayeon didn’t cover herself, her skirt was still around her waist. 

“Nooo was just an accident. I didn’t mean to spy you.” Minjeong knew she was fucked up because she was caught staring directly at Nayeon’s crotch, there is no way she could get away from this. Maybe instead of failing one class she would end up being expelled, what an improvement. 

“I knew you were a pervert, like all your classmates, but never expected you to be so blatant.” Nayeon still didn't cover herself and Minjeong didn't know where to look. Her eyes were wandering across the decorations and various graduation certificates that suddenly became very interesting. Everything to no laid her eyes on her professor’s face. “Why don't you want to look at me? You were staring a moment ago.” Nayeon had her in her hands.

Suddenly Minjeong fell on her knees and gathered her hands making a gesture as she was praying to a superior being. “Please don't tell anyone.” There was no way that Nayeon could explain this to someone without getting herself in trouble, but she could lie and tell that Minjeong snuck in her office to do perverted stuff. Being a professor could guarantee easily getting away with a lie and put all the blame on her student.

“Aaaawwww!! You look so cute begging, maybe too cute.” Minjeong was waiting for a “but” and then Nayeon would sent her to the dean's office. What wasn't expecting was Nayeon, who still has her legs parted, to caress her ear with… a foot? Minjeong was frozen in the spot because her professor was using her bare foot to play on her ear. 

This was much more inappropriate than her massaging her professor's feet, but what came next was worse. Nayeon moves her foot across Minjeong cheek to her mouth and presses her toes between her lips. The student still didn't understand what was happening but for some reason allowed her professor toes into her mouth. 

“Suck it, come on. Now you need to be more proactive if you want those extra points.” The original deal was just a massage for those points, but being honest Nayeon never really said what were the characteristics of their deal; so poor Minjeong had no option but suck.

The taste was bad, after all Nayeon's feet were covered in lotion, so that was what Minjeong felt in her mouth. Feet wasn't her thing, so Minjeong put zero effort on sucking it, and after a moment the foot was separated from her mouth. “Ok, fine. If you don't like it then you can suck something else.”

If putting a foot in her mouth and making her suck it wasn't enough to earn those damn extra credits, the next idea Nayeon had definitely has to be. To Minjeong's surprise, for like the third or so time in the evening, Nayeon raised her hips and with a long single movement slid her panties down her legs. “Come here to have a better view and put your mouth to work.” 

The foot came back to Minjeong’s face but this time was used to press her head closer to Nayeon, and because she was on her knees it was impossible for her to resist. So Minjeong now was facing directly Nayeon’s most private area, and as she could see, her professor was completely waxed and pristine. “Hurry up and start eating.” Nayeon said with her knee resting placidly on Minjeong's shoulder.

“But.. But this is too much. I wouldn’t do it.” The student shook her head protesting for the new task given to her, but her eyes were still glued to her professor’s crotch. 

“So you don’t want to pass my class? Ok, but you will have to take this course next semester and I’ll make sure you end up in my classroom again.” The smile on Nayeon's face shows how she was enjoying pushing her student between the sword and the wall. “You already know I’m head of the Chemistry department. Is so easy for me to make you fail again and again…”

In Minjeong's opinion, and despite that she was enjoying the view, this was so unfair. She just came here for a few extra points, just a little help to not fail this class, and now her professor is taking advantage of that. But what Nayeon said left her with not much options, if she reprove Chemistry her parents are going to be so disappointed and mad at her that probably going to have her studding during all the vacations. All that because Yizhuo couldn’t stop updating her about the most juicy gossip in the campus. But these stories weren’t as juicy as what she had in front of her eyes.

Honestly Nayeon was hot, Minjeong has no problem admitting that, so hot that is definitely out of her league. A young professor so smart that she is already head of her department, a respected academic, an extortionist, in short a very hot woman offered to her on a silver platter. And who was Minjeong to say no? She was already salivating and all she had to do was eat her professor. Give her a good moment, also enjoy the process, and at the end of the day she will pass her class and luckily don't have to deal with her again.

“Ok…” The tone was much more of defeat than she actually felt. “I’ll do it.” All what she received in return was a giggle and a gentle push on her back. With Nayeon thigh pressed against her cheek Minjeong finally sealed her lips over her professor’s other pair of lips, in a shy kiss. Was no surprise to her that Nayeon was already excited for this, her folds were already beginning to shine with her own nectar like dew on the grass in the morning.

The taste was a hundred times better than that of her feet, an improvement that sent Minjeong in an ecstasy that she wasn’t expecting to reach anytime soon. The girl wasn’t getting laid and this is the closest she has been in months to actually having sex. Not because she didn't want to or because she wasn’t popular, but because she was so busy studying. Studying other things because obviously not chemistry, otherwise she wouldn't be in this situation. 

As Minjeong thought Nayeon’s skin was so soft there, so delicate, she felt like she was kissing silk or something similar; not even Nayeon’s legs were as soft as her private area. Suddenly Minjeong has the urge to know if her professor’s insides were as soft as her skin outside, so she softly pushes her tongue between the delicate folds parting them and gathering some of the nectar. The muffled sound of a sigh came from Nayeon´s mouth, a single proof that Minjeong was doing good to use her tongue.

The tongue was going deeper and deeper and soon Minjeong was eating with a new found hunger, putting on it all the effort she didn't put into sucking Nayeon's foot.

Nayeon used her hand to cover her mouth in an attempt to shut her moans, which were slowly increasing in volume. Minjeong wasn't that good at giving head, but clearly she was doing something good here. Much better than the massage. That, or maybe her professor wasn't getting laid either. The other Nayeon’s hand has a tight grip in the chair.

With gentle touches with her heel, more like rubbing than anything else, Nayeon encourages her student to keep being proactive. Her hand is now more busy than ever trying to mute her moans because even when this part of the building is almost empty at this time of the evening, never is good having such sounds of pleasure coming out of a professor's office.

As Nayeon tries to mute herself, Minjeong's tongue keeps exploring the insides of her entrance. Soft, warm and wet was all that Nayeon’s cunt was, the ideal environment to maintain Minjeong busy eating and drinking all of her nectar. A task that the student was doing gladly because it is the best nectar she has drunk in a lot of time, or maybe in all of her life. That to be honest hasn’t been a lot of times.

Minjeong keeps eating using her tongue and lips to do a proper job, just navigating by instinct to finally earn those extra points. Maybe being a little bit more proactive, as Nayeon said, would help her in this task. So Minjeong decided to do a bolt movement and push apart her professor's leg. Making more room for herself. The new position allows her to eat better, and Nayeon seems to be grateful for that because she uses her heel to rub Minjeong’s back once again. 

When Minjeong was spacing out just thinking about eating and how good her professor's taste was she felt a gentle hand over her head, long fingers interlocking with her hair and capturing her to maintain Minjeong in position. As if she wasn't already trapped under Nayeon's knee. Besides that, who would try to run from this? Certainly not Minjeong, despite being reluctant at the beginning now was enjoying the process of eating out her professor.

It wasn't long before Nayeon let go of Minjeong's head and used her hand to grab the arm of the chair again. If the student had been able to see, she would have noticed how her professor was gripping the chair tighter than ever. It was very clear that Nayeon was close.

Even when Minjeong was sure she wasn't that good at giving heat, especially to women, she made her professor come really fast. If this would have been a male professor it would have been really embarrassing for him, but since it was Nayeon there was no shame in having an orgasm in just five minutes. Maybe after all Nayeon wasn't getting laid at all.

After a few uncontrollable shakes of her body and holding Minjeong in place to rub her vulva against her mouth, Nayeon finally released her student for the embrace of her legs. “I was needing that.” The professor said still having trouble breathing normally, the only visible aftermath of her recent orgasm. Well, that and the fact that her hair was a little messy.

“Now you earn the right to have a special test.” Nayeon said, putting her feet on the ground and approaching Minjeong to clean out her own juices from her mouth and chin. After rubbing the sleeve of her blouse in the face of the student for a few moments Nayeon decided she was clean and let her go.

“Test?... But…. But… You said after eating you out I'll earn those points.” 

“I didn't say anything about that.” Nayeon had a sinister smirk on her face. “You had to give me a massage, and since you didn't do it because you were busy checking me out, consider giving me a head as compensation.” That wasn't fair, but once again the professor was right since she never said oral sex was part of the deal for the extra credits. 

Minjeong needs to be more careful here or Nayeon would keep changing the deal and adding tasks. Now she's talking about a test, what next? “A test?” Minjeong asked with puppy eyes and fearing the answer. “But you said you couldn't.”

“Yes, but I'm the head of the department. Also no one besides you and me is going to know about this.” As she said that, Nayeon grabbed some baby wipes from god knows where and used them to clean her crotch of all the remnants of her orgasm and Minjeong's saliva.

“Ok, but Professor. You have to promise this is the last thing I have to do.” Minjeong didn't know why she was still on her knees since no one was stopping her from standing up, but for some reason she thought defying Nayeon's authority wasn't a good idea. Even when she was drawing a line and making her point.

“Look who is getting brave” Nayeon still maintains that smirk. “But ok, this test is going to be the last thing you have to do. I promise it.” In a gesture never shown before, Nayeon pets Minjeong's head. That was weirdly satisfying to Minjeong. “Now get on your feet and take your pants down.”

 “Wait, what?” Took Minjeong a few seconds to understand what she just heard. “N-no… Why? No, wait noooo.” 

“It's an important part of the test.” Nayeon moves her hand in a gesture telling Minjeong to stand up. “Now, don't make me waste my time and get your pants off.” 

Minjeong was back on her feet but making no move to open her pants zipper. “Professor, we can't do this. This is too much. We can't have sex.”

Nayeon lets out a loud burst of laughter covering her mouth with one of her big hands. “You already ate me out. Oral sex is sex.” Another audible laugh. “But I know what you mean, and no. We aren't fucking like that. I bet your little weiner isn't worthy of that.”

“I'm not that small.”  Winter interrupted her professor’s laugh to defend her honor. “Isn't huge but also isn't small. I'm average size, and…”

“You're just giving me the reason. Just accept it is small, there is no problem…” Minjeong didn't realize that her professor was just making fun of her and didn't actually know the size of her penis.

“Isn't small!!” Rising her voice more than she probably should, Winter opens her zipper and yanks her pants down as well with her boxer. “I'm average.” Driven by the humiliation she undressed her lower part with even thinking about what she was doing.

In fact Minjeong dick wasn't that small. As she said she was average, even semi erected as it was that was easy to tell. But that doesn't seem to stop Nayeon from making fun of her.

“Ok, you aren't small.” Nayeon rolled her eyes and stopped laughing. “Maybe tiny is a better adjective.” Another loud laugh. Nayeon's smile was so big that not even her already big hand could cover her mouth.

“Professor I'm not-” Suddenly Nayeon laid a hand on Winter's right thigh and made her shiver. “... I'm not tiny. I'm…” She finished the sentence lowering her voice with each syllable until her voice was just a whisper. For some reason she was staring at the floor. And for another unknown reason that hand was raising the temperature in her crotch.

“Turn around and bend over my desk.” Wasn't a suggestion, it was a command given with a calm voice and emphasized with a small squeeze of Minjeong's thigh. Maybe that's the power, the spell, Nayeon uses to control her students. Or more accurately, her alchemy.

Minjeong did as she was told, turning around with small steps because her pants were around her ankles. She immediately missed the warm touch of Nayeon's hand over her skin. Her hands were so big, and in Minjeong’s opinion so pretty too, they were surely much bigger than Minjeong hands.

If Nayeon's feet were popular among male students, the equivalent were her hands being popular in the female population of her classroom. Or at least that was what Minjeong thought because to her feet were a weird thing to be horny about. But hands were a different story.

Nayeon has big hands, with long and slender fingers. But that far from being weird is so attractive. The professor always has her nails done and her fingers decorated with rings. One clearly could tell she was using lotion and other methods to maintain her skin soft and tender, even when she wasn't old enough to need to care about that matter.

Nayeon was smart, young, pretty, and very capable of doing whatever she would like to achieve. But she also was proud of how beautiful she's, of the effects she causes on people and the attention they give to her. She always could notice when a student or another professor was staring and eating her with their eyes, and she enjoys that.

Minjeong was thinking about Nayeon's hands when she felt one of those hands on her lower back, pushing her further. A shiver ran through her spine. “Bend over.” Nayeon repeated her command, and again Minjeong did obey without protesting. “What happened to being proactive?”

The student still didn't understand what her professor wanted from her, all she was told was to bend over the desk. “You have a nice little butt, and your balls look cute from this angle.” The touch of a single finger in Minjeong's scrotum made her tremble, this time a shiver ran through all her body.

The finger left quickly and now Nayeon puts her hands over her students butt. In fact Minjeong has a little ass, beautiful and round, pale and very soft. Nayeon's hands completely covered her buttocks and separated them revealing the wrinkled entrance of her anus. 

“Also cute, and clean too.” Nayeon murmured for herself before finally standing up. The student couldn't see what her professor was doing due to the position she was in, but she felt when her buttocks were released. No jiggle, they just returned with one single movement to their natural form hiding her rear entrance.

“Spread it for me.” Nayeon spanked the beautiful ass in front of her. For some reason her hand was cold and wet now. “Come one. I have other things to do.”

“Why spreading my ass is part of the tes-” The professor poked Minjeong's scrotum again, causing the latest to interrupt what she was saying to release a pathetic whimper. That single touch seems to be all Nayeon needed to convince her student.

Minjeong reached her own butt and spread it as she was told. Her face was bright red for the embarrassment of exposing herself like that. “Let's get it to it.” Another cold touch from Nayeon, this time her fingers landed in Minjeong's perineum and slowly went up to her wrinkled entrance.

Two fingers were making circles and daubing in her ass what Minjeong only could guess as the same lotion she previously used to massage Nayeon's feet. The substance was cold, making her tremble because of that freezing touch in such a private area. 

Nayeon's fingers were tracing circles and applying a little pressure, but never treating to go inside, to invade Minjeong in such a perverted way. Just circling around and smearing the viscous substance between Minjeong butt crack.

Despiste her initial doubts, all that action in her rear was making Minjeong dick hard. But her pulse was rising and with every pump was also a bit of shame drumming in the back of her heart. She was leaning over her professor's desks, with her ass wide open, and Nayeon threatening to do only God knows what to her. This was an abuse of power no matter the angle one could look at it.

But Minjeong was still enjoying it. She ate her professor's cunt, at some point her delicious nectar was covering her mouth and lips, and now was being touched in an inappropriate way. Has been so long since someone touched her like that, since she fucked someone or someone fucked her. That's why arousal was taking over her despite not being comfortable at all, that why she was softly whimpering when Nayeon was just spreading lotion in her ass.

“Ok, I think you're ready.” Nayeon pressed one single fingertip over Minjeong anus and opened it a little bit. Just a few millimeters went inside and then quickly left, but the finger reminds over her poor back entrance. “Rules are simple. I'm going to ask you five questions, if your answers are correct something good is going to happen to you. Answer the five correctly and those extra credits are finally yours.” Nayeon uses her free hand to fix Minjeong's blonde short hair in the back of her ear. “But if you fail this test, you fail my class.” Nayeon closes the distance between her and her student to whisper to her ear. “ Are you following me?”

Minjeong hardly swallowed the saliva that was gathering in her mouth. “Yes Professor. Five right answers and I will pass your class.” What that has to do with pressing a finger against her ass was something Minjeong didn't understand at all at that time. Maybe that would be the punishment if she fail a question, sexual torture gonna be the way to discipline her.

“Good, first question. What have the neutral atoms of all of the isotopes of the same element?”

“What? This is hard, how I am supposed to kn-” Nayeon tapped Minjeong's ass with her finger, cutting her words.

“If you attend my class you should know that. Now answer, this is just the first question.”

“Ok. They have… they have… The same number of electrons!” Minjeong answered maybe too excited to be right about something that basic. 

“Good girl, that's right. You have one good. Now your reward.” Without warning and against all Minjeong was thinking was gonna be her reward, Nayeon pushed her finger against her anus. This time she didn't stop after the tip but kept pushing until the two first phalanxes of her finger were inside her student.

Minjeong's body shivered due the unexpected invasion and the wave of pleasure that action caused her. More pleasure than she should be feeling for this, for her professor taking advantage of her and finger-penetrating her ass. But Nayeon’s finger felt so good opening her rear entrance, invading her. Wrong but pleasant at the same time.

With a single movement a big portion of that long and slender finger went inside her rectum. Minjeong could feel the icy touch against her walls and anus. Thank God that digit was coated with lotion and entered really easily. More easily than Minjeong would like to admit here.

With the intrusion a pathetic whimper leaves the student's mouth. One that she was fast to mute using her hands, but that means she leaves her butt.

“You need to pack yourself and maintain your butt open for me. Bite your lip or something because I swear to God if someone hears your pathetic moans you are going to know what is good.”

“Why is putting a finger inside of me a reward?” Minjeong asked in a tone of protest and defeat. However her hands returned to spread her butt cheeks.

“I ask the questions here. Now get ready for the second one, this is very easy.”Nayeon changed the tone to the one she uses when giving her lectures, before continuing. “How many p electrons are in an atom of rubidium?”

That was an easy one? Really? Minjeong could not get herself to remember at what time of the semester she learned that, she wasn’t even sure to know what element rubidium was. Maybe shutting her eyes could make her focus on remembering the information she needed and not on the fact that Nayeon was moving her finger. At a tortuous pace, but still moving it. 

“Eighteen.” That sounded more like a question than a proper answer, luckily for her her professor didn’t notice that and counted it as a good answer. 

“Ok, another good one.” This time Minjeong was prepared for what was coming, but that didn’t help at all to dilute the feeling of a second finger penetrating her. The student has to rest her forehead against the cold surface of the wooden desk, and press her lips together to not let any sound escape from her mouth. A really hard task that she failed to archive when a new, and more pathetic, whimper echoed throughout the room. And the finger was still midway when that happened. At least this time she didn’t let go of her cheeks.

“Ok, that’s all. Open your mouth.” If she was commanded to not make sounds why Nayeon now wanted her to open her mouth? That didn’t make any sense to Minjeong until she felt something soft pressed against her lips, something made of a thin laced fabric. Not just her mouth but her eyes were wide open when she realized that what Nayeon was trying to put inside her mouth to mute her was in fact, the pair of panties she was using today. The same pair she removed to allow Minjeong to eat her out. “For now if you're not answering one of my questions you're going to keep that in your mouth.”

This new punishment was really humiliating, maybe more than the others, and Minjeong was feeling sick for enjoying it. The used underwear inside her mouth as well as the two fingers going slow but relentless in the task of invading her rectum cavity have her leaking. Her dick was pressed against the edge of the desk, and that was the only relief she was having, but with every new centimeter on Nayeon’s fingers that went inside of her, her shaft throb as if it were alive.

But at least with the garment inside her mouth she was able to moan more freely, even when being honest the thong wasn't really big. It was just a small triangle with some laces, that actually didn’t cover much of her owner’s anatomy. The other good part was that at least the underwear wasn’t stinky. 

“Look who is being a good girl and is taking my fingers very well.” Nayeon giggles at her own words. “Move your head if you are ready to continue.” However, making fun of her, Professor Nayeon waited for the confirmation that her student was doing ok before making the next question. “ Ok so. What of this alkaline earth metal is located in period 3. Lithium, sodium, calcium, magnesium, or strontium?”

So far this was the hardest question, but Minjeong was sure she knew the answer. She was sure Nayeon talked about this one day that Yizhuo didn’t attend her class, that was why she was able to focus on what her professor was saying. So when the underwear was taken from her mouth she was ready to give an answer. 

“I’m sure is lih-” When she was mid sentence Nayeon, in a diabolical act, separated those fingers she had inside her student. Not enough to make her cry of pleasure but far enough to make Minjeong reconsider her answer. “ Magnesium, it is magnesium. I was just kidding.” She tried to justify herself, because she knew Nayeon helped her with this one.

Soon the used underwear was back in her mouth and Nayeon was separating her fingers once again, this time pushing them far away than the first time. Forcing Minjeong’s anal walls to adapt to this new dimension, preparing them for what was coming. 

When the professor decided that her student was ready patted her head before pushing a third finger inside her rectum. Another long digit slowly goes inside Minjeong, pushing her to her limit, spreading her ass wide open. The poor student never before has taken something as big as three of Nayeon's fingers together. They were slender, sure, but three at the time was still too much for Minjeong. 

Electricity was running through her spine as that third finger was invading her. The loud moans almost weren't contained by the underwear so Minjeong still had to press her lips together, putting all her strength on that and into maintaining her buttocks open so her professor could continue ruining her rear. 

Her poor hole was stretched to a new whole limit, and that has Minjeong's dick twitching and leaking more precum. At this point she was sure the desk had a big stain and maybe the carpet under her feet too.

Minjeong felt so pathetic exposed as she was, with her ass being stretched by her professor, and her small dick arching for some real friction. Not just the illusion that was the contact with the wooden surface but real action, like a hand wrapping around her length and stroking her until she exploded. Maybe if she's a good girl Nayeon would allow her to cum, who knows.

For her part Nayeon was enjoying this too. Her private parts were glistening again with her own arousal. Maybe having total control over her student was turning her on, or maybe how dangerous it was for her career to do that in her office. If someone sees her with her fingers buried inside a student that definitely would be the end for her, and that risk has her cunt throbbing with emotion.

Despiste those malicious rumors a jealous coworker spread about her some years ago, Nayeon never has done such a perverted thing as having sex in her office, much less with a student. Maybe one or two times she snuck a hand under her skirt to help her to deal with the stress of her work, but never was more than rubbing herself for a few minutes. This time with Minjeong was actually the first time she actually had an orgasm in her office.

Obviously Nayeon is a pervert, she never gonna try to deny that, otherwise why would she have three of her fingers buried as deep as she could inside her student’s butt? And obviously she has done some things like this in the past. But it has been so long since she actually had sex with someone, since the last time she had someone bending like that for her. She isn't a natural top, but being in charge does inexplicable things to her. The power of having someone surrendered over her, completely devoted to her, with their attention centered on what she’s doing, is so intoxicating that she’s feeling how her arousal is rising again. So when she saw an opportunity with Minjeong, she jumped at the chance.

“Are you good?” Despite taking advantage of her position Nayeon isn't a sadist, she has no intention of harming her student, just wanna ruin her a little and release some stress in the process. 

Obviously Minjeong couldn’t speak because of the garment in her mouth but she moved her head up and down in an energetic way to point out that she’s doing ok even with her ass being full of her professor’s fingers.

“Ok, then just two more questions.” Minjeong kinda panicked when she released that there are two more questions left, the same number of fingers that Nayeon hasn't put inside her yet. Is she going to fist her? That idea made Minjeong’s blood pressure rise to the sky, because there is no way another finger fits inside her, let alone a whole hand. But she didn't have time to think about it before her professor made the next question. “What is the approximate pH of a solution labeled 0.050 M HClO?”

“Hoomm iimm gamma kmmon?” Minjeong's voice was muffed by the underwear and only an unintelligible murmur was heard. At that, Nayeon removed the garment from her mouth.

“What? You have the solution that fast?” Nayeon was surprised that Minjeong had the answer so quickly, given that she wasn’t putting too much attention on her lectures. 

“No, but how am I supposed to know? I can’t do the math in my head?” How Nayeon rolled her eyes was imperceptible for the student, also was how the professor opened a drawer and took a small notebook and a pen from there. All she could see was when Nayeon tossed those things in front of her face.

“Ok, fine. You can let go of your buttocks and do the math, your ass is already open. But for god sake be quick.“

Minjeong never had been so fast to grab a piece of paper and a pen before, but this time she did it as if her life depended on that. After writing the first scribbles, she crossed them out with such force that she almost tore the paper. Now, more carefully, she started the calculations again, but she found it hard to concentrate with her ass so full. It was as if her rear was burning and protesting to come back to their original wrinkle form, not this madness of being stretched up like that.

For her luck Nayeon didn’t try to open her finger this time, or do any other trick. After all, the professor knew if she wasn't gagged, so any attempt to play with Minjeong would result in her student making noises that neither of them wanted to be heard outside the office.

“I… I have it.” Minjeong was sure this time after checking her answer a few times. “It is four point forty one.

“Who could imagine that you would know so much? Maybe I should do the same test to Yizhuo to find out if she learned something too.” The tone was playful, as if Nayeon were contemplating the idea of having Minjeong's classmate in the same position as her. Perhaps a fantasy too greedy. “Here comes your reward, so get this in your mouth again and relax…” 

Minjeong never knew what was the rest of the phrase because she tried to protest but the underwear was forced into her mouth again. With that all she could do was shut her eyes and press her lips tight waiting to feel another intrusion into her ass, expecting to feel how the four finger was forced into her already stuffed entrance. But that never came to happen because what Nayeon did was caress her scrotum and then grab her hard dick.

And involuntary shiver ran truth Minjeong’s entire body when she felt the touch over her balls, and what was yet the most pathetic whimper she had ever released, escaped from her mouth when Nayeon grabbed her dick. She was needing that touch so bad that almost came at the instant.

In fact Minjeong’s penis felt almost tiny between Nayeon’s fingers, a combination of her length and the fact that her professor had big hands. In any case Minjeong’s dick fit perfectly in the warm embrace of that hand, so perfect that her scrotum was receiving some stimulation too. Her dick and balls were at the complete mercy of her professor.

What came next had Minjeong whimpering as a little puppy, because Nayeon moved her hand three times, just three times. Giving but at the same time denying the long-awaited friction on her private parts. A motion perfectly calculated to torture Minjeong.

The poor student was ready to let all go and release her semen directly into her professor's hand, but as suddenly as the motion started, stopped a few seconds before. All that was given to her were just three pumps and nothing more. Something that made her very frustrated, and yearning for more.

“Huuughh! I just touched you and you already made a mess in my hand.” Minjeong was leaking so much precum that her professor could feel how her fingers were coated in the viscous and crystal clear fluid. 

Obviously Minjeong could not say sorry for that, but that doesn't stop her from feeling embarrassed. She was being so pathetic, completely folded over Nayeon's will, ready to serve her and for what? For just a few extra credits. At this point this was about something else, because Minjeong was feeling like she was giving too much for just passing a class, this wasn't an equivalent exchange. But once again that turned her more.

The feeling of her small dick completely covered by Nayeon's big hand, with her long and pretty fingers wrapped around her length, was intoxicating. For the other part the hand in her rear was feeling so good too, much more that she will ever be willing to admit. But how would she pretend that that isn't true if she was already leaking after the first finger went inside her?

Minjeong's world almost fell apart when that wonderful hand left her shaft. She thought it was going to be wrapped around her all the time.

“Time for the last question. Again you can do the math.” The student didn't notice that Nayeon made a pause to lick the precum out of her fingers,  she thought she was just being dramatic. “What is the volume of a 2.50 gram block of metal whose density is 6.72 grams per cubic centimeter?”

Fuck Yizhu for getting her on this trouble, was what came to Minjeong's mind when she heard the last question. She never has been good enough in math, and that was her less favorite part about chemistry. But now that was what was separating her from owning those damn extra credits and finally getting those fingers out of her butt, because notwithstanding that in fact that was very pleasant her sore sphincter was getting tired of being open like when a snake engulfed an egg.

“It is 0.372.” Was the answer she gave to Nayeon when the latest once again removed the used underwear from her mouth. This time took her longer to calculate it, but she was sure she was right at the first attempt. Maybe it was the urge for being touched again that made her focused on the given task.

“That's right. I'm impressed that you actually did it, and have to inform you that you have successfully passed this test and my class.” After all, she was able to put more than fingers inside Minjeong and actually made her learn a thing or two. That has to count for something, and Nayeon would have given her student a congratulatory clap if her hands weren't so busy.

“Thank you professor. Now can I- Aaanngghh!!” Of course Minjeong was a fool for thinking that that  was all, that Nayeon was going to release her just like that. Her professor separating her fingers was proof enough that she was wrong.

Nayeon didn't separate her finger too much, just a few millimeters, but that was enough to let her student know that they weren't done yet. And once again Minjeong was covering her mouth with her hands, she even put Nayeon's underwear back inside her mouth when she had the chance.

“Before you can go there is one last reward.” Nayeon's voice was calm, comforting in some way, but still could listen in there a glimpse of enjoyment. As if she were making fun of her student reactions. “Just be patient and cover your mouth.” This time was the whisper to her ear that made Minjeong shiver, how Nayeon pressed their bodies together to reach her and say that only for her, as if they were surrounded by a crowd and those worlds were meant only for her.

Everything started with a gentle touch on Minjeong's scrotum, just a caress over her balls, and then Nayeon's fingers slowly going down until they were wrapped over her hard shaft. 

The whimpers were not long in coming because poor Minjeong was so sensitive there that having her professor's fingers descending as snakes over her skin was already too much. The fingers inside her were warming her guts in a way that she never has felt before, and the ones on her shaft were sending jolts through her spine.

Her dick felt so small in the embrace of that hand, smaller that it actually is, perhaps embarrassing her or perhaps turning her on. Or maybe both at the same time, because Minjeong’s feeling were overwhelming even when Nayeon hasn't moved her hand yet again.

When the first movement happened Nayeon could easily hear her student's muffled moans. She was no longer whimpering but moaning, all with just one pump of her hand. By the time she reached a stable rhythm her hand was covered in Minjeong's precum. The girl was leaking so much that was making Nayeon's work easier. Her own leak was serving as lotion to masturbate her.

As if that wasn't enough the other hand was moving too, just that slowly, fucking Minjeong in the ass. Making a complete mess out of the poor student that came to this office just to ask for a few extra credits.

Her butt was sore. Stretched to its maximum for so many minutes, but the burning feeling was good. Lotion made Nayeon's task easier and as long as her professor didn't push too much inside her she was just feeling pleasure. The nerves endings inside her rectum where being more stimulated than ever before, so Nayeon could have easily made her student cum just by finger-fucking her ass. But that would have been too easy for her.

“God, you're so pathetic with your cute ass stretched and you small dick being milked.” Nayeon says just to assure the power she has over her student, and Minjeong couldn't defend herself because she was busy covering her mouth, and in fact she was feeling pathetic too. Also there was the thing that she had completely surrendered to her professor. What else could she do with a hand buried in her ass and another stroking her dick?

All that was left to her was moan and tremble while waves of pleasure were crushing inside her body. That hand in her shaft was making pervy wet sounds since it was completely coated in her precum, and the other hand has stopped but replaced the movement for being buried as far as it could.

Nayeon increased the rhythm of her strokes to a point that was unsustainable to her student, clearly attempting to make her reach her limit, and Minjeong once again did as she was told. Only that this time she wasn't told with words but actions.

The young student's final climax did not disappoint Nayeon. With shivers and moans, and contracting her rectum like crazy, Minjeong spilled her semen into her professor's hand. A lot more semen that one could imagine those small balls could store.

If Nayeon's hand was already coated in fluid now it was worse. But she didn't stop stroking, milking her student until the last drop of semen left her body. For Minjeong was a totally new experience because she was feeling how her dick was submerged in her own semen, and that was like floating in a viscous cloud.

The student was still covering her mouth, trying to not make any noise audible outside the office, when Nayeon pulled out her fingers. All at once and without saying anything. If Minjeong could have had another orgasm instantly, but her balls were already empty.

Having her asshole stretch was one thing, but the sudden absence of the fingers inside her left her anus yearning for more, in so short time she had already gotten used to the feeling of being full. But her ass was now empty and started to close slowly, remaining open for a few seconds in a very nasty and perverted way that Nayeon obviously admired and found cute.

Now it was the turn of the other hand to leave Minjeong's shaft. At the instant some drops of semen leaked to the floor and over the student's clothes that were around her ankles. Minjeong's dick still was covered in her semen and her ass was sore, but she was finally free from her professor's claws.

“You can clean yourself before leaving.” Nayeon said casually sitting on her chair, as if she hadn't just ruined her student’s rear. “There is my private bathroom. It's small but works.”

Minjeong was still catching her breath, still with the underwear in her mouth. The orgasm she just experienced was powerful enough to make her dizzy. Her dick was still twitching against the air, and her ass was sore until the point she was sure that she was going to have some trouble walking normally.

Trying to compose herself, the student lifted her clothes in an attempt to cover at least her thighs, since her crotch and butt were smeared with semen and lotion and she didn’t wanted to stain her underwear. Indeed her asshole made that task difficult and uncomfortable.

“Come on. I have other things to do.” The professor was cleaning her hands with the same wipes she cleaned her crotch before, and casually as if it were nothing she licked some rest of semen between her fingers. Minjeong wanted to say something but words didn't come out of her mouth, in part because she was still gagging with Nayeon’s underwear.

She just spat the garment out of her mouth and left it over the desk, covered in her saliva, maybe completely ruined. Ruined as she was, with her ass sore and her small dick now soft. And with that, without saying anything, Minjeong walked bow-legged, and with occasional whimpers due the soreness of her butt, to the small bathroom. To clean herself from the aftermath of the special test.

Minjeong swore to herself that she wouldn't get distracted in class again, and obviously, that she wouldn't listen to the gossip Yizhuo told her again. Never again.

[cece693]

Might just as well call me a Hannibal Lecter fanfic creator at this point. Like damn, I can't stop writing about him, but at the same time I don't feel bad about it 'cause he's so damn complex. Like, he totally is a monster and has done despicable things (just ask his victims and Will), but Hannibal also shows vulnerability and human traits that don't make him unredeemable in my eyes. Anyway, I always loved this idea of Hannibal feeling caged and declawed when he's content with a significant other. So, he lashes out because he never truly let himself adopt another routine (other than murder.) Just Hannibal dealing with emotions not so well. Hope you enjoy it!

Caged Appetite

pairing: hannibal lecter x male reader tags: hannibal loses control, he feels like a caged animal, you've been together for years, you aren't a murderer but is aware of what hannibal is/does, physical violence, hannibal is sorry but doesn't say it when it matters, it'll make sense later on, OPEN ENDED ON PURPOSE

You wake to the sound of rain thrumming against the tall windows of the Baltimore townhouse, the fragrance of dark‑roast coffee already drifting through the air. Hannibal has risen before you, as he always does, precise and elegant in his morning ritual. You pad barefoot across Persian rugs, drawn by the promise of warmth, and find him at the stove—silk robe cinched at the waist, sleeves folded back with surgical neatness.

He smiles when you enter, a soft curve of lips that only you are permitted to witness. “Good morning, caro mio.” His accent lingers over the words like a bow across cello strings. He pours two cups, passes one to you, and the two of you share a companionable silence broken only by the ticking of the antique clock.

This is the life you have built together: evenings at the opera where you sit shoulder‑to‑shoulder in plush crimson seats; intimate dinner parties where Hannibal dazzles with gastronomic miracles and you temper his darker impulses with your steady presence; nights spent on the balcony, sipping wine while the city hums below. It is a life of cultivated beauty, and you have become the final arbiter of his appetite.

Months ago, after discovering the truth behind his refined veneer, you struck a bargain that astonished you both: Hannibal would not kill without consulting you first. You framed it as a necessity for survival—his and yours. He accepted, almost eagerly, as if your command tethered him more securely to you. Yet the leash has grown taut.

Weeks pass.

Hannibal grows restless, stalking the study like a caged panther, fingers drumming against mahogany.

He starts to question your judgments—why should this corrupt banker live? Why spare that cruel surgeon? Each time, you meet his arguments with calm logic, and each time he submits, but resentment smolders in his dark eyes. And that resentment doesn't take long to make itself known. It begins innocently: an argument over a guest list for Saturday’s soirée. You veto a name—Dr. Jeremy Larkin, an anesthesiologist whose negligence cost a child her life. Hannibal’s nostrils flare. “He deserves to be culled.”

“Justice can be served without murder.” you reply, setting your glass down.

Hannibal’s voice is low, dangerous. “You mistake convenience for justice.”

“You promised,” you remind him. “No blood unless we agree.”

You see the moment the leash snaps: a flicker of something feral, the way a caged tiger stops pacing and decides. The antique candelabrum arcs through the air, candles exploding like comets against the wall. Wax spatters your cheek, scalding. “Hannibal—”

“Enough! I have allowed you to shackle me,” he snarls. “Like some pitiable beast trained to sit and beg.” The sudden violence of his voice shakes you. He seizes the edge of the dining table, flipping plates to the floor where they burst like white flowers. You step back, heart pounding.

He turns on you, eyes molten with rage. “You have trimmed my claws, dulled my teeth. You—” His words die as he grabs your wrist with terrible force—a flash of agony that radiates up to your shoulder, making you stagger backward, nearly tripping on the shards of broken plates. “Is this what you wanted? To domesticate me? To press a collar around my throat and pretend I’m safe?”

Your head spins. The adrenaline surges, heart punching at your ribcage. “I never asked you to stop being who you are,” you manage through gritted teeth. “I just asked—”

“For rationality?” he interrupts, a harsh bark of laughter cutting you off. “I am beyond rationality.”

When Hannibal's other hand comes up, you don’t flinch fast enough. The back of his palm connects with your cheek. It isn’t just a slap; there’s enough force behind it to send you sprawling. Your vision blurs for a heart-stopping moment. A hot, metallic taste floods your mouth, and you realize you’ve bitten the inside of your cheek—maybe split your lip. Blood drips onto your chin, bright and shocking.

Hannibal seems momentarily stunned by what he’s done. You see it flicker in his eyes: that old, precise conscience that used to rein in the worst of him. But it’s smothered by the hurricane of his rage, and he steels himself with a sharp breath. Crouching down, he seizes a shard of Baccarat crystal from the carpet, and turns it in his fingers until blood beads along his palm.

“I have given you concerts, constellations, continents. In return, you give me chains. Shall I show you what real captivity feels like?”

The threat hangs between you, suffocating. He steps forward; you retreat until your back meets the grand piano. His free hand snakes out, catching your jaw with bruising force. The crystal shard hovers at your throat, cold and trembling.

“Breathe,” Hannibal murmurs. “Feel how fragile the carotid is beneath a lover’s thumb. One gesture—” The shard presses just enough to sting. A bead of blood blossoms.

Terror floods you, but anger surges with it. “Do it,” you whisper. “Prove you’re nothing more than an animal that devours whatever refuses to kneel.”

For a heartbeat, you believe he will but then the shard falls. Hannibal’s face contorts—rage, horror, something like despair. He shoves away from you so violently the piano bench skitters across the floor.

“You corrupt even my fury,” he spits. “I can’t even kill you without hearing your conscience in my skull.”

He whirls, fists pounding the piano lid again and again until the lacquer spider‑webs and the hammers inside clamor discordantly. When the last blow lands, his knuckles are raw, breathing ragged. “You’ve ruined me,” Hannibal says, voice barely audible. “And I—stupidly—I let you.”

You press a shaking hand to your neck, feel the shallow cut, the hot pulse beneath. “You let me love you,” you correct, tears blurring the ruined room. “And I believed you loved me back—but is a monster like yourself even capable of such a thing?"

The last thread snaps when Hannibal’s voice drops to a glacial whisper—too quiet for fury, too precise for accident. “You mistake tolerance for love. If you need me muzzled to feel safe, then your devotion was never to me—only to the version you hoped to domesticate.”

The words strike harder than his fists ever could. You feel something inside you splinter, slow and final, like a mast giving way in a storm. There will be no repair tonight, perhaps ever. Your throat tightens around a thousand replies that die unspoken; explanation feels pointless when the accusation has already gutted you.

You move without another word. Upstairs, your hands move with eerie calm as you unzip the small leather overnight bag—the one you once packed for impromptu weekends on the Amalfi coast. Sweaters, passport, the paperback Goethe you keep on the nightstand, phone charger, toiletries—muscle memory does the work while your mind drifts somewhere numb and echoing. You leave the cuff links he gifted you, the cashmere coat he draped over your shoulders last Christmas, anything that feels like it still belongs to us.

When you descend, Hannibal stands where you left him, amid the ruin of shattered china and wine‑dark stains. His shoulders are rigid, but his expression is unreadable—an immaculate mask reforged in seconds. Only his eyes betray the turbulence beneath.

The bag in your fist speaks louder than words. He watches it, then you. Something flickers—alarm, perhaps—but pride keeps his posture tall. “You’re running,” he observes, soft as falling ash.

“No,” you answer, voice flat. “I’m leaving.” You grip the doorknob. “And I don’t know if I’m coming back.”

For a heartbeat he looks stricken, as if the room tilts under his feet. Then the mask sets harder. “Take your conscience with you,” he says, almost tender. “It has never suited this house.”

The cruelty is exquisite, precise, undeniably deliberate. It makes the decision effortless. You open the door, step into the cold night, and let it close behind you with a muted click that sounds like the end of a symphony’s final chord.

Hours later, the house lies in dreadful silence. Broken glass gleams among overturned plates and splintered wood. The piano’s fractured lacquer reflects the scarlet smear of his own blood. Hannibal stands amid the ruin, shoulders rigid as he stares at the door you walked through. He waits for you to return (you just have to), not knowing if he wants to beg your forgiveness or sink his teeth deeper into the wound he’s created in both of you. Anguish tears at him like an animal in a steel trap, too proud to whimper, too furious to release itself. With no one to witness, he finally allows himself the slightest tremble in his hands.

The restraint you braided round him disintegrates.

Three nights later, Jeremy Larkin is found in his penthouse, organs arranged into a weeping angel. The tabloids christen the tableau “The Doctor’s Apotheosis.” Hannibal watches the news report with dead eyes, tasting ashes.

It brings no relief. Each murder is a scream into a void where your answer never comes. He leaves calling‑card bouquets—white lilies flecked with red paint—on the steps of his tableaus, hoping you’ll understand the morbid semaphore: Come home, come home, come home.

You spend the first night in a rented cottage outside of Baltimore, living on broth and codeine, tending to the injuries Hannibal left behind. Luckily, none would leave scars, yet the same couldn't be said emotionally.

You ignore the news. You turn off your phone when unknown numbers flash the screen. At night the tree branches hit one another, echoing the crash of that candelabrum. You wake screaming, palm pressed to your neck. But grief is a patient tutor. You learn to breathe without tasting fear. You walk the forest, let dirt scour the bruises yellow. You begin, slowly, to plan a future without him.

Fifty‑nine days after you fled, you open your apartment door to find a single lily on the step, the petals bruised by rain. No card. You know who left it; you know what it means. Your hands shake—not with fear, but with anger that still burns hot.

That night you write a letter:

Hannibal, The bouquets you leave on morgue slabs are not apologies; they are sermons to yourself. You mistake artistry for remorse, believing that if I see the symmetry of a body you have emptied, I will remember the elegance inside you and forget the brutality that carved it out. I don’t need another corpse arranged like contrition on a plinth. I need you to look at what you have done to the living—to me—without an audience, without blood to distract you, without the comfort of calling murder a gift. I have never asked you to be harmless. I know the shape of your darkness too well to pretend it could ever be dissolved. All I wanted—perhaps foolishly—was for that darkness to spare the one who loved you. Instead it raised its hand and taught me how sharp your devotion can become when it thinks itself caged. If you truly wish to reach me, send no more bodies. Send words you have bled from that iron heart. Words that do not ornament your violence but own it, strip it bare, confess its cowardice. Show me you can kneel to the wreckage you caused without trying to turn it into marble. Until then, every silent headline, every month without a vanished soul, will count louder than a thousand grandiose tableaux. Let your apology breathe untainted air for once. Then, and only then, will I decide whether the part of me that still loves you can risk a return.

[gingaseiun]

I haven't really shared this with anyone except my close friends, but I used to dream of having my own TV show. I would write scripts and brainstorm countless ideas for what my perfect show could be. When I got to college, I focused on one particular show concept that had been with me since high school. I wrote a really rough script, created a show bible, and even drafted a letter to send out to production teams....but I never had the courage to actually send it. I was too scared, honestly, haha. The characters and the shows still pop into my head from time to time, and I keep reimagining and redesigning them. At one point, I even commissioned artists to bring them to life. I got hyperfixated on it all. The one thing that held me back was the fear that nobody would like the show. I feel like there's still time to make it happen, but, nervously, I keep wondering, "What's the point?" So here I am, just rambling about it on my blog.

Soooooooo below will be me rambling about the show and characters

The show itself was called Heart Failure, and it revolved around cupids doing their jobs Sometimes successfully, sometimes....not!

(Logo made by Discord: aikozu)

One of the main characters, Sorbet Clairmont, was a serious, no-nonsense cupid who had dedicated millennia to her work in Aetheria, though in Earth time, it had only been about ten years. The show played with that contrast a lot, making jokes about her "ancient" experience compared to how young she would seem to humans.

Born in the Realm of Aetheria, Sorbet was a prodigy from a young age, deeply attuned to the emotions around her. As a child, she had witnessed love in all its messy, beautiful forms joyful reunions, painful goodbyes, and everything in between. Those experiences convinced her she was destined to help others find connections. Over time, she became one of the best, known for crafting love arrows that perfectly captured the emotions she aimed to inspire.

But her success came with a cost. The more skilled she became, the more isolated she felt. Her sharp tongue and brusque demeanor kept most people at a distance, and though many admired her work, very few actually wanted to get close. She told herself that was fine—less emotional entanglement meant fewer distractions. Still, even in the rough first draft of my script, her loneliness seeped through in her sarcastic remarks, like: "Fingers crossed they last longer than a houseplant," and "This better not be another annoying mission... Last time, they sent me to sort out romance at a retirement home. I’ve barely heard the end of it from the other divisions."

(Art below is made by Discord: jijicomms)

The story really started to pick up when Sorbet was assigned a trainee, Lyris Arrowheart. To her, it felt like a punishment rather than an opportunity, one more thing to slow her down. But Lyris’s earnestness and clumsy enthusiasm stirred something in her, something she had buried a long time ago: the simple, genuine desire to connect.

Now, the other main character is my little failure, Lyris. I love Lyris.

Lyris Arrowheart grew up in a prestigious family of Cupids, where success was expected, and anything less felt like failure. His parents often boasted about their achievements. How they effortlessly paired soulmates and ignited love stories that became legendary in Aetheria. From a young age, Lyris felt the crushing pressure to live up to that legacy.

But school was a different story. While his classmates excelled at crafting love arrows and navigating emotional auras, Lyris struggled just to keep up. His daydreaming often got the better of him, causing him to miss critical lessons. No matter how hard he tried, he always seemed a step behind, more of a spectator in a world that demanded precision and excellence.

When he finally graduated, it was less a moment of triumph and more a quiet sigh of relief, overshadowed by lingering doubts. Though he technically passed, the weight of his family’s expectations stayed with him.

One of my favorite little moments for Lyris comes from his introduction in the first script I wrote:

He awkwardly waves at Sorbet, his hands trembling so badly that he nearly drops his bow. He fumbles it, juggling it between both hands before finally managing to hold it steady and wave again, bowing slightly. In the middle of it all, his glasses slip off and shatter loudly on the floor. Frozen in mortification, Lyris immediately covers his face, his cheeks flushing a deep red.

(Art below is made by Discord: jijicomms)

Both of them were always meant to be contrasts to each other, and honestly, I love that about them. Sorbet is sharp, serious, and guarded, while Lyris is clumsy, warm, and endlessly earnest. The idea was for them to become close, just not romantically. I’m sure if the show ever actually existed, some people would end up shipping them anyway (it's inevitable, haha), but there’s a reason they were never meant to be love interests. Their bond was always supposed to show that deep, meaningful connections don't have to be romantic to be important.

There are other characters in the show too, like Elysia.

Elysia is Sorbet’s advisor (and the advisor for a few other characters I’ll bring up later). In Heart Failure, an advisor is a Cupid who assigns other Cupids their missions, called "Moments," on Earth. They are the ones who organize and oversee the work behind the scenes.

Elysia is an advisor cupid and one of the senior chair Cupids of the Embassy of Love, specifically within the Branch of Love. She plays a pivotal role in guiding and mentoring younger Cupids, including Sorbet. With her sharp insight into the complexities of love, Elysia carefully selects each Cupid’s assignments, choosing missions that challenge and help them grow.

Known for her direct, no-nonsense attitude, Elysia takes her responsibilities seriously, making sure every mission is approached with care and precision. Beneath her stern, professional exterior, there is a surprising warmth, kind of like a piece of dark chocolate: a little bitter at first, but sweet once you get past the surface. Her "tough love" approach sometimes frustrates those she mentors, but in the end, she is exactly the kind of guide they need, even if they do not realize it right away.

(Art below is made by Discord: jijicomms)

Another character you would see in the show is Noelle Glaciamour.

Noelle is best known for melting people's cold hearts, the ones that are guarded, frozen over, and untrusting of love. She represents the emotional state of those who have closed themselves off from love or are hesitant to embrace it because of past pain, betrayal, or fear of vulnerability. Her role as a Cupid revolves around rekindling warmth and breaking through the icy walls that surround these hearts.

Now, Noelle’s backstory is touched on in the show, and I won't get too deep into it right now, but there’s one thing that really sets her apart. Unlike most of the Cupids in Heart Failure, she doesn’t really have wings anymore. Instead, she has little torn-off nubs on her back. Something that hints at the struggles she's faced without needing many words.

(Art below is made by Discord: jijicomms)

Now, you can't talk about love without talking about heartbreak. And unfortunately, that means we have to talk about him.

Valen Amour. The bane of Sorbet's existence. The so-called "Emissary of Love," though if you ask Sorbet, he’s more like the embodiment of everything wrong with the system. He’s smug, insufferable, and somehow still manages to be good at his job. The worst kind of person, honestly.

Valen started working as a Cupid around the same time Sorbet did, but unlike her, he made a career out of meddling. Early on, he would intentionally disrupt the pairs Sorbet painstakingly matched, reassigning them with a smug smile and claiming he had found "better matches." His reckless (and, to Sorbet's eternal frustration, often effective) methods got him fast-tracked to elite Cupid status way faster than anyone expected, or deserved.

Growing up, Valen never really had to struggle for anything. Success just sort of fell into his lap. Naturally, that carried into his work. When he was effortlessly placed in the Heartbreak Branch of the Embassy of Love, it only reinforced his belief that he knew better than everyone else. In his mind, instinct always beats strategy, and if he had to step on a few toes to prove it, so be it.

Even his wings set him apart. While most Cupids bear pure white wings, Valen’s are a smoky dark gray, fitting for someone who thrives not in creating new love but in pulling apart the old.

(Art below is made by Discord: jijicomms)

Now, I want to finish off my yapping session with world building. Even though theres tons(not really) of side characters I could yap endeless about. Here’s a more concise breakdown of Aetheria and its rulers. The Cupids live in a hidden realm called Aetheria, beyond the sight of mortals. As the narrator in my poorly written pilot script says:

"Beyond the sight of mortals, hidden from the world of Earth, lies the Realm of Aetheria. The sacred home of the Cupids. Born from the will of the god of love, this world is one where emotion shapes reality itself. Here, Cupids glide through skies of golden threads, each movement carrying whispers of everlasting devotion. It is a place where love is born and nurtured. Where every letter to a secret crush, every fleeting desire, is delivered by the hands of the Cupids, guiding hearts toward their destined connections."

Aetheria was once ruled by Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, who created the Cupid lineage before retiring and passing control to her son, Eros, the primordial god of love. Eros reshaped Aetheria, but Aphrodite didn’t leave him to run things alone. She established the Erotes, a group of gods and goddesses to assist him. These include Anteros, the God of Requited Love, Hedylogos, the God of Sweet-Talk and Flattery, Himeros, the God of Desire, Hymenaeus, the God of Weddings, Hermaphroditos, the God of Effeminate Men and Androgyny, Pothos, the God of Yearning and Longing, and Phthonus, the God of Jealousy. Finally, Psyche, once a mortal, became the Goddess of the Soul after marrying Eros and joining the ranks of the Erotes.

Together, the Cupids and the Erotes run the Embassy of Love, an organization that governs different branches responsible for various aspects of love and human emotion: Camaraderie, Desire, Heartbreak, and Love. In this realm, the Cupids are tasked with nurturing and guiding love, shaping the world’s emotional fabric in ways both subtle and profound.

(Eros, Art below is made by Discord: jijicomms)

I hoped you enjoyed my yapp session!!

[luvseisagi]

— two years late.

read part 1 here.

ft. itoshi sae x reader. wc. 5.7k

summary. after two years apart, the call you thought would never come finally did. content. gn!reader, no pronouns used, reader wears makeup. even more angst and even less comfort (sorry), right person wrong time, childhood friends to strangers, miscommunication. aged up characters (sae and reader are 20, rin is 18). sae might be ooc and has issues. author's note. there was like a FULL power outage in my country today i was isolated completely alone in my house with no light no cooked food no electricity no internet connection for HOURS. SUFFERING.. so i wrote this - it was actually supposed to be shorter than the first one?? and it's twice as long?? i like writing angst too much i fear.

𝜗𝜚 english isnt my first language, so any corrections or advice are highly appreciated, as well as feedback (please) ! enjoy

rin

did u arrive alr? mom says u have to pack everything u wanna keep before we come back give it two hours or so

sae sighs, the messages on his phone too bright for his liking. he has just arrived home from a twelve-hour-long flight and a painfully slow ride from the airport. the last thing he wants to do right now is start packing his old room’s things.

“sure” he types back, before shutting off his phone and throwing it onto the bed. his relationship with his little brother isn’t as bad now —sae is twenty and rin eighteen—, but he still gets slightly annoyed when they talk over text. only it isn’t exactly annoyance, but a cluster of unpacked feelings and regrets he never learned to express. 

not to his brother, at least. not to anyone in his life, since —well. since you and him weren’t friends anymore.

sae shakes his head in annoyance, as if a physical movement could somehow make the thoughts disappear. he leaves his suitcase in a corner of his room, still closed, near the window whose blinds he hasn’t bothered to raise yet. the jacket is lost somewhere in the pile of clothes cluttering the messy living room —it isn’t usually like this, his family has someone help with the cleaning daily. however, since they’re moving to a bigger house, his parents didn’t care at all if the common rooms stayed untidy. they just wanted to move out as fast as possible.

at first, he hadn’t understood why. sure, it was a matter of time before they bought a bigger, more expensive house —specially now that sae had just turned twenty and gotten signed for the actual re al team, and not the u20 one, and rin was considered the star of his generation, next to his always friend-and-rival isagi yoichi—, but why the rush? 

he had just come back from spain, again, and they were already pushing him to pack up and leave the only place where he had lived the memories he actually treasured.

it was unfair for him to think that way, though —him, who had been the first to abandon said place, and said memories, not once but twice. 

and that’s why now, standing alone in the gloom of his old room, he understands. because he isn’t the type of getting attached to things, people, places, or anything that has nothing to do with football, and he doesn’t really care about living in a big apartment or even a bigger house, but he feels the urge to run away from the moment he sets foot inside his old room.

instead of a bunk bed, there is now a big double bed his parents had ordered when he came back from spain the first time, two years ago. next to it, there’s a wide closet that takes up almost the entire left wall. and in the corner near the window, there’s the custom-made glass shelf they gave him when he was younger —which quickly filled up with trophies and awards from his high school years—. 

right beside it, there’s a dark wood desk he never really used —he didn’t like studying—, that would be empty if not for the pile of colorful envelopes sitting on top of it. 

his thought process is fast: if he lies down on the bed now, he will fall asleep for more than the two hours their parents are going to take before coming home. the trophies are valuable for him, but he isn’t on the mood to remember all the matches and competitions that they carry, and there are too many memories stuffed inside his closet that he doesn't want to dig up now.

so he walks to his desk, and he sits on the chair in front of the pile of letters.

they’re letters from fans, he remembers. his manager had dropped them off two years ago, a few days after rin left for the blue lock project. when he was younger, he would usually read all —or almost all, at least until he got bored— of the letters he received. his favorites were always the ones written by little kids telling him how he inspired them. 

he never really thought he could ever make an actual impact in japan’s football scene, but those kind of letters reminded him of his little brother, so he did appreciate receiving them.

it’s weird he hadn’t read these, considering most of the envelopes are pink, blue, or orange, and his manager’s address —the one published for receiving fanmail— is adorned with little hearts, flowers, and football balls. it’s pretty obvious most of them were written by kids.

he’s just about to open the first envelope —a dark pink one, similar to the color of his hair, adorned with little spirals, hearts, and a doodle he thinks it’s supposed to resemble him— when he remembers why he didn’t read them back then.

reality hits him like a punch straight to the stomach, and his chest feels suddenly so heavy he needs to close his eyes and focus on breathing. 

the shouting. the blame. the unanswered questions. he remembers everything, second by second.

the regrets. the indifference. the anger and the sadness. and you, crying so loudly you couldn’t even talk, sitting in the same chair he’s sitting in now.

he had been about to read the letters right before your argument —the first and last time you came to his house, after four years separated by thousands of kilometers, two continents and one ocean —, and he hadn’t had the strength to read anything after you left.

because the first thing you had said to him was “why did you say all those awful things to rin?”

not i missed you, or i’m really happy to see you. not even a hi, sae, but a question about his brother —which he knew he was important for you too, of course, but you were his best friend, not rin’s. sae should had been your first priority, not his brother.

the next thing he knew, you were shouting at him, blaming him for something he wasn’t even aware he had done. rin had a full breakdown because of their silly encounter that first day? he had just been being a big brother, telling him the truth —it was better if it was him, and not the big world outside, who taught him a lesson. 

but rin hadn’t understood that, apparently. and neither had you.

he had entered the autopilot mode —the same one he used while in interviews, or irrelevant social events in madrid— right after you mentioned rin. he barely even remembers what he told you now, what he answered or what he tried to explain. back then, the only thought of his mind was that you were standing right in front of him —taller, your features more mature, and somehow even prettier than you already were— and you hand’t even brought yourself to hug him yet. 

sae opens his eyes. 

yn’s not here. he thinks, repeating it to himself as a prayer, as if his words could make your ghost disappear from the room. there’s no one but me here. i’m alone.

again.

he lifts his head, feeling slightly dizzy after nearly choking in the waterfall of memories that just flooded him. i’m here alone, he tells himself once more, knowing full well he must look insane right now.

because he’s lying. you’re there. you’re everywhere.

you’re lying on his bed, even though you never actually had time to sleep in there —back when the old bunk bed he shared with Rin still stood in the room—, and you’re laughing in whispers while trying to decipher what rin’s dreaming about. 

you’re sitting on the floor, struggling to explain him a math problem for the twelfth time, annoyed because he insists on kicking a ball instead of paying attention to you. 

you’re almost drowning in a mountain of clothes, his room a runway while you try on his football jersey with a long skirt you stole from his mother. 

and you’re standing in front of the shelf, pretending to ask about each trophy —even though you knew exactly which belonged to which victory, because you had been there for every single one.

you’re also where he is now, sitting by the desk, your trembling hands playing with the colorful envelopes, fighting your urge to cry. 

but your voice —it sounds broken; and he knows he lost you way before you slammed the door and left his house forever, your jacket sleeve stained with the makeup you tried to wipe away and your lips pressed tight as if you were about to throw up your heart.

and still, everything on his room is so him he doesn't even understand why it's reminding him of you.

the only thing that anchors him to the real world right now, he thinks, are the envelopes on top of his desk. he tries to control his breathing, he tries to focus his gaze, and his hands are nearly shaking when he plunges his hand in the pile of letters. he doesn’t know why he clings to one, but he pulls it out of the pile and stares at it, the tips of his fingers brushing over the messy star drawn on the paper.

and suddenly he stops.

then he wonders.

he wonders why there's a letter on his hands, and why does it have your handwriting in it. 

for sae, and nothing else. there’s no address, which means no one sent it to his manager, and he knows it's yours, because he still recognizes your handwriting —and because even though all his fan letters have hearts drawn around his name and brightly colored envelopes, you're the only one who would have chosen the exact shade of teal of his eyes and the drawing of a star instead of the a in his name. 

he can't understand why his hands are practically shaking when he frantically tears the flap open, and he can't swallow the lump that forms in his throat as he reads the sentences written in black ink by a hand that seems unsure of itself. 

your handwriting is so familiar that his heart skips a beat, and now he doesn’t know if it’s because of sadness, regret, nostalgia or the excitement of having a piece of you in his hands again. 

as he reads, sae realizes when exactly you wrote that letter —since there’s no date to be seen anywhere. it looks like you had been trying to start writing something to him more than once, but your words never felt natural enough to express everything you wanted to tell him. not until he came back, and had an argument with rin.

in the letter, you tell him you expect a reasonable answer as for what happened with his brother, but that’s everything you mention about him. the rest of the message —three full pages of messy handwriting and some mistakes you crossed out with the pen—, talks about everything he wanted to hear that day. 

you wondered about his life in spain, you told him some stories he knew already —because you always went to him when you wanted to talk about your day—, and you kept telling him, over and over, how much you had missed for the past four years.

sae chuckles, reading every word with your sometimes excited, sometimes bored, sometimes indignant voice in his head. you are so cute, he thinks, caressing the sheet of paper without realizing it. 

“by the way,” the letter said, halfway through second page “do you remember that time you played against that other team of spain while i was in a sleepover, and i stayed awake just to congratulate you for scoring the winning goal? i was in a friend’s house, and everyone was asleep already but i watched the end of the match on my phone under the blankets.”

a small smile grows on his face. of course he remembers, your friends’ complaints were the background noise of the audios you had sent him after the match. you were, what, fifteen years back then? sixteen, maybe?

“well, the conversation was a bit embarrassing so i’m not going to tell you, but basically, i realized that i like you that night.”

sae stops reading for a second.

what?

the words resonate in his mind, unearthing a feeling whose funeral had already been celebrated years ago. 

he takes a deep breath before continuing to read, but the letter only gets heavier. 

you’re telling him how you realized it, what you liked about him, why you felt this weird feeling —one you would later learn was jealousy—, whenever you saw your friends happy in their relationships. for two whole years before you wrote that letter, you had been carrying the weight of discovering what a first love felt like.

and said first love was him.

sae’s world falls down. 

he doesn’t cry just yet, but he feels himself on the verge of tears right after reading your last sentence. 

“ps: for the sake of my dignity, i really hope you’re reading this in the airplane back to spain, or in your apartment in madrid, ‘cause i don’t think i could stand looking at you in your eyes knowing that you read this. however, please, call me when you read it —it doesn’t matter if you feel the same way or not, you don’t need to mention it. just call me, tell me how your flight was, complain about your manager and everything he’s making you do, if you must. but tell me something, please. 

i missed you, and i love you. and no ocean could ever drown that.”

sae freezes for three long seconds, his body static from pure shock, before practically throwing himself onto his bed, searching for his phone. he feels like he’s dying during the time it takes for the device to turn on, and he types his passwords as fast as his fingers allow before clicking on the contacts app. 

your name shines so bright in his screen he swears he could go blind, but this doesn’t stop him from staring. he gulps, nervous, and presses the call button under your profile pic —still you, when you were seventeen and asleep on his bed with his jersey as a pajamas.

the phone rings three times before someone picks up on the other end.

he doesn’t say anything at first, waiting for you to talk. his heart is beating so hard he can hear it, so loud it’s deafening, but the silence on the other side is even deeper, pushing the sound of his heart to the background. his expectations have never been higher, as well as his anxiety —creeping from his legs to his stomach, his chest, his arms and finally reaching the hand holding the phone.

“hello?”

he almost jumps when a voice that is definitely not yours comes through the phone.

sae hangs up so fast his mind barely processes it before he's staring at your name and your profile picture again. could you have changed your number? no, unlikely. as far as he knows, you still keep in touch with his parents, and his mother would have messaged him in an instant to give him your new number, even if she knew he wouldn’t use it. —she loved you like family; as she used to say when you were younger, you would definitely end up part of it if one of her sons was smart enough to wife you up.

so why did a man’s voice answer his call?

grabbing his phone with both hands, staring so hard it might break from it, sae lets his body fall back onto the bed. he stays there for a few seconds, your peaceful, sleeping face on the screen almost seeming to blame him for disturbing the peace you always had when you were together —by calling a number that was forgotten, forbidden.

when his brother had sent him that picture back then, he had felt a very weird, very unusual feeling forming in his chest. 

jealousy, maybe, because there was nothing he wanted more than being with you and rin right now. hurt, probably, since he had been living in spain for almost three whole years now, and he missed you two a lot. 

love, he concludes now, because he realized long ago that he loved you — he just never let himself think about it long enough to understand those feelings.

You were too far away, he told himself every time he thought of you like that — and there was no point in trying to tie you down when you were living your best life, being everyone's crush, having normal teen experiences with your new friends.

but how did he not know you loved him too?

before letting himself get lost inside his memories and regrets again, his thumb presses the call button once more. this is your number, he’s sure of it, and if he the guy that answered was with you in any kind of way… well, that’s something you would have to tell him yourself.

“hi? yn?”

he finally gathers the courage to be the one to do the talking first, but his voice is almost a whisper when he pronounces your name, each syllable soft after leaving his lips. 

it’s the first time he’s said it out loud in two years.

“hi, uh, sae?”

sae sighs, relieved, and he closes his eyes as he hears your voice. his head rests on one of the pillows, one hand holding the phone, the other on his chest, now breathing at a normal pace. he can’t stop the small grin spreading on his face.

then he remembers: you answered the phone, so it’s his turn to talk.

i missed you, he wants to say first, but discards it —might be too much. i’m happy to hear your voice, is another option, but perhaps too straightforward. how are you? seems right, or so he believes —no one taught him how to start a conversation with his lost childhood best friend before. he wants to appear casual, yes, but he also wants to show that he cares.

he has it all so clear in his head, he surprises himself when he suddenly speaks, his brain too slow to process his words before they spill from his mouth.

“i read your letter.” is what he says instead.

on the other side of the line, you frown, not expecting a call from him at all. not now, at least.

“what letter?” you ask, genuinely confused. you don’t remember sending anyone a letter, much less sending one to itoshi sae. 

he is so famous now, much more than what he was back when you two were still friends. even if you tried to send him something, you doubt he would have ever receive it.

you could have given it to him through his parents, though. through rin, now that their relationship was back to normal —you think, at least. ever since he was signed in the japan’s u20 team, you barely kept in touch.

a little smile grows on your face, not sweet, but bitter. nostalgia tracing your lips, and memories invading your chest.

sae speaks again.

"the one you wrote me two years ago. i never read it until now.”

reality hits you then. oh, that letter. the one you poured your soul and heart into at seventeen, when you thought your life would end if he read it. 

sure thing, you were wrong. your life didn’t end because he read it — it ended because he never did.

you stay quiet, half-hoping your silence is torturous for him. you have no words, anyway —how could you expect to receive the call you dreamed of, the one that kept you up at nights and anxious every morning, two years later?

so sae, desperate to fill the silence, starts talking again —words rushing out so fast you wonder if you’ll even be able to keep up.

"i thought you hated me and thats why you didn’t call or come back to my house after the argument" he says. his voice sounds weird, raspy, like he’s choking in his words —on his feelings, really, the guilt twisting him up inside.

"i thought you got on rin's side after we argued, and i thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore after you left my house crying.” still laying on the bed, his posture the same as minutes ago, sae feels his chest tighten with every word he says. a whirlwind of memories, regrets and nostalgia, and unsaid feelings tearing him apart, from his heart to his head —his rationality, too, as he seems to be unable to stop talking.

“i never took your letter to spain and i never read it till now —didn’t even know it was yours, it got messed up with some of the fan mail. i found it today, in my desk—, and i was so angry back then, because you didn’t come to say goodbye when i went back to madrid after the u20 match.” he speaks in a rush, thoughts unfiltered, pouring straight from his heart to his mouth “it felt unfair, having strangers write me letters, tell me they would miss me, when the only person I wanted to hear it from was you.”

he falls silent after that, expecting an answer.

since you are saying nothing back, he keeps talking. 

meanwhile, you can only think it is so not sae, speaking this much, having the need to explain himself —no one had, never in his life, asked him to justify his actions. so why is he so desperate for you to understand him? 

he feels the urge to say sorry —worse, even. he feels the need for you to forgive him.

so he doesn’t stop.

“i… i’m sorry for not taking your letter to spain. and i’m sorry for not reading it, and not calling you.” he exhales, voice breaking slightly “i expected you to reach out first, but since you didn’t, i thought…”

“that is not your fault” you finally say, cutting him off mid-sentence. 

you hate hearing him like that —so vulnerable, so hurt. you had dreamed of this call for a long time, wanting it, for a while, to be this dramatic and intense. but not anymore. two long years have passed, and your mourning had ended a while ago. 

“i was the foolish one” you say softly “for thinking you would read all the letters and find mine there. but that’s fine now, i was a dumb teenager, in love with a famous football player who lived on the other side of the planet. it sounds like a cliché fanfic trope” you chuckle “what was i expecting?” 

your voice is calm, and even your posture, sitting in the sofa on your living room, is composed too. you are able to control the lump of feelings forming in your throat —you are not lying when saying you were the naive one. yes, it was the most hurtful heartbreak of your life, but you had gotten over it already.

“i am really sorry, yn.” sae sighed, his eyes closed again, tightly pressed together as if afraid of letting a rebellious tear scape. “i’m sorry i disappointed you.” 

and when you hear these words, you know he’s hurting. you know he is because, even though he never got the courage to say it out loud, that’s always been his biggest fear—disappointing people. 

he was scared of not being good enough at football —he was a prodigy in japan, but he had to train for what he thought it would be natural for him once he started playing in spain—. he was terrified of failing at being good older brother —he had always taken good care of rin. why, when he was just trying to protect him, did he make his relationship worse? 

and deep down, he hated the thought of not being good for you, too —which, he thinks bitterly, he wasn’t, either. he waited for you to come to him and say him goodbye, waited for you to text him or call him or tell him you missed him instead of doing it himself, when he was the one dying to hear your voice again.

“look, sae, i…” 

you don’t know what else to say, anyway, because he did disappoint you, but you can’t just tell him the truth. he would not be able to handle it —you had always thought that he would, but you weren’t so sure right now.

“it might be a bit late for the call” he says, swallowing hard. the words taste metallic on his tongue, just like blood, and he’s saying them out loud before he can bite his lips and shut up “but i think you have the right to know that i loved you t-“

you cut him off in an instant.

“sae” 

his name in your mouth sounds like a warning, a plea, and a cry all at once. however, you don’t give yourself enough time to analyze each of them —he has, finally, nothing else to say. he’s run out of excuses to tell you, to fix a huge mistake he had made without even realizing it.

you summon the courage to keep talking.

“i have a boyfriend now” 

sae’s chest freezes for a second, his breath getting stuck in his throat after hearing your words. he mutters an oh, but he can’t bring himself to say nothing else.

“that guy from maths, in high school.” you tell him, as if talking could somehow fix the awkward silence between you two “the one who had a crush on me when we shared that class. he’s studying the same degree as i am, and we got paired up for a group project not so long ago. i guess he never gave up liking me, and, well, when he asked me again, there was nothing stopping me from dating him.”

it is not until you finish your last sentence that you realize how cruel you have just been —until now, the only thing stopping your for dating him was precisely sae. and he knows that.

you haven’t said it on purpose, really, but for a moment, you wonder if sae is feeling what you felt the day you two argued. if he is now discovering the effect he has on people when he’s being rude. unintentionally, but rude anyway.

you stay in silence a while longer, waiting for him to say something —it’s not like you don’t care about what he was saying, or feeling, when you interrupted him; but two years later, really? a lot has happened since you two were eighteen, and it is true you have a boyfriend. it doesn’t really matter what he tells you now.

"i'm sorry, yn.” he finally says, voice soft under his, for some reason, shaky and uneven breath —could it be that this conversation is actually affecting him? “i’m sorry for not reading your letter. and for saying sorry now. and for not telling you that i loved you when i should have." 

those last words make you feel your heart break, just a bit, just a crack —only enough for a tear to fall from it through your eyes and down your cheek. 

"im sorry too, sae. but you are late for that”

then there’s silence again. neither of you says nothing for a while, but neither of you hangs up. for a few seconds, him laying on his bed and you sitting on your sofa, it feels like you are together again. rin’s superhero cartoons in the television, sae’s arm over your shoulders and your head against his neck. he would say something about his practice, and you would detangle his dark pink bangs from his long black eyelashes, then laugh at the face he made whenever you touch his hair.

everything was so easy when you were still kids, practically living in the same house three days a week —when his brother and you shared first place on things he loved, alongside football, not after it.

you sigh, escaping the bubble you had gotten in. you couldn’t blame football, practice, or matches at all —it was what distanced sae and rin, but it had nothing to with you. 

it was loving him what changed everything for you two, you think. or, at least, being such a coward you were never able to tell him. or maybe it was nostalgia. or anger. or lack of communication.

you would never know now.

the silence is mortifying. sae is the one who breaks it.

"nothing would have changed, though.” he whispers suddenly. you’re sure he’s holding the phone close to his face, for how his voice sounds, and you are right —still lying on his bed, sae lays on his side, one hand under the pillow and the other loosely playing with the sheets. the phone is on the pillow too, near to his lips, which talk very softly. “you know that, right?” 

you wonder if he’s aware he’s sounding a bit mean again, even if he’s whispering.

“i mean, you were just about to start your dream degree at college and i was centered in my football career in spain, so even if i had read the letter before and i had called you, probably nothing would have changed at all” he’s biting his lip now, curled upon his bed, as if you were kids again, telling each other secrets under the sheets. “maybe it was for the better.”

you can’t help it but chuckle. this is so sae, trying to fix something with the right intentions but the wrong words. 

he was never good at comforting people, honestly, but no one, not even you, had ever told him that —the fact that his words are always true doesn't mean they can't hurt, and that’s something he never understood.

maybe he thinks you are immune to them now, now that you have a new boyfriend and, apparently, your dream life. but it does hurt anyway.

"i would have waited for you" you confess, throwing another sharp truth to him. you hear him swallow the lump in his throat "but it doesn’t matter now, does it?” 

on the other side of the line, sae presses his lips together, and sighs silently. he doesn’t even react to your sarcasm —of course you would have waited for him. of course he would have waited for you, too. 

and well, you have a boyfriend now, but it’s the guy you had been complaining about for weeks on facetime when you were younger, at very late hours in japan and very early hours in spain. and it might be selfish for sae to think this, but you couldn’t like your boyfriend that much if it had taken him more than four years to get a yes from you.

so maybe, after clearing the feelings between you two, you could fix the friendship you had —and had lost— during his time in spain. maybe he could... 

“would you like to hang out sometime?” he asked boldly, voice now louder and less of a whisper. his idea had potential, he thought “my family's moving out, you could come and visit the old house before we sell it, to say your goodbyes —you have memories here too.” 

your heart shrinks a little bit again,

“no, sae, i told you already. it's too late.” you try to portray a composed image, voice calm, but the distress is noticeable in your voice anyway. maybe sae hasn’t done it on purpose, but nostalgia is your weak point, and he knows that. “you are too late.”

so you don’t wait for him to say anything more before hanging up the phone. you were on edge already, a knot tightening more and more around your heart, tears piling up under your lashes. 

he has no idea how hard it was for you to move on, not just because of the distance, but because of the silence. the silence he had left when he left, and which stopped being a painful void only to become a wall between you two.

you throw your phone to the carpet of the living room; your boyfriend, still inside the bathroom, completely unaware of the state you are in —tears falling uncontrollably down your cheeks, breath uncoordinated and hard to swallow, hand covering your mouth as if, just like in a very vivid memory, you were about to throw up your heart.

of course you had spent two whole years trying to get over your first love just because itoshi sae had not recognized the envelope you’d left on his desk the last time you went to his house, and he had mixed it up with his fan’s letters. of course he hadn’t read any of them at all, because he didn’t care about his fans’ thoughts of him the way he cared about your goodbye, which he thought he would never get.

of course he hadn’t forgotten about you, and he didn’t hate you —he loved you, how could he not? and he had been scared of telling you because he thought you were the one angry at him. 

your trembling lips exhale a long sigh, and you wipe away your tears, staining your hoodie with your now-smudged makeup. you can’t help it but laugh at the irony.

of course you forgive him for everything, because you still love him. 

at least a little bit. even if you have a new boyfriend and a new whole life and you've spent drunken nights trying to forget him and rainy evenings missing him like crazy. 

in the end, seems like he loved you, too. you wonder if it was fate what didn’t allow you to be together —sae was right, though, distance was difficult and your lives way too different for a relationship to have worked. but who knows, you think. you believed, religiously, for so many years, that sae was the person made for you —it doesn’t feel real realizing that he might have thought that before, too.

you sigh, closing your eyes and hugging one of your cushions. you have no more tears to cry.

if only he hadn’t read the letter two years late.

masterlist.

tags ౨ৎ @princesssae .ᐟ

pls lmk what u think in the comments, reblogging, through messages, asks or wtv!! feedback is important to me in these first posts and i'd appreciate it a lot 🤲🏼

﹫luvseisagi, april 2025.