#i had a crush on silver even though i thought he was a girl and it turns out he was a guy

[angelplummie]

here for revenge.

being lily's best friend - you grow up with her - you're in the donaldsons orbit for all your formative years. you develop a crush on art that turns into love as you grow older. your home life isn't so glamorous. you spend lots of weekends at the donaldsons. art has tucked you in. brought you snacks when you stayed up late for movie nights, making you and lily promise not to tell tashi. you were there when art and tashi got divored, held lilys hand and pretended not to be happy inside at the thought of getting closer to art.

lily gets into college - a big smart one because she has tashi's ambition and leaves you behind, you're still stuck at home because your dreams have always been smaller.

maybe its not appropriate, to still spend time with art. but he's lonely. tashi left, and now his daughter has and you're the only one left in his life that actually wants to be around him, that has always looked at him with stars in your eyes. its probably not healthy. there should be a boundary there. your lilies, not his.

but you like being around him and he likes having someone to take care of. you come over and he makes you eat something healthy and you needle him about spending all his time at home and how he should get out more, and he rolls his eyes, tells you he should be saying the same to you, you're young and beautiful and you should be dating around.

but how can you date around when art donaldson is your dream man? when you're happiest at his side, eating what he makes you. you want more though. you want to share his bed, warm it for him, you want to make him not so lonely, you want him to stop seeing you as a little girl and as the adult you've grown up to be - so you start wearing less and less around him. start acting more and more like a housewife.

art accepts it without even realizing. now you just need to find the right opportunity to pounce.

WHEW. this one is long so buckle up

“art?”

“mr donaldson.”

you roll your eyes.

“mr donaldson, how come you never started dating again?”

he chopped the lemon with a deft clunk, eyes never leaving the knife.

“never felt the urge.”

“what does that mean?”

“what i just said. never felt the need to.”

“hm.”

you sat on the island, next to the chopping board. your legs swung haphazardly, and you watched art as he chopped.

why was he playing this game? he could’ve told you to leave, to stop coming back and bothering him, that this was inappropriate. and yet. he didn’t even tell you to get your sorry butt off the counter, or some such dad-ism. the low glow of the many warm lamps that adorned such a luxurious house illuminated art so softly, he looked as young as the day lily was born. he was as fit as back then, if not meatier. he didn’t have the pouch your dad had, but the years had given him a thickness. instead of wasting away like most lean men did, he struggled to the other side. he got broader. layer upon layer of muscle encased in a thin finishing of fat. he was skinnier when you were a kid, but he had no reason to be lean now. under his chin a tiny hammock of pudge rested as his head tilted down, kissed by light stubble. his blonde hair was streaked in silver, but that somehow made him younger looking. made him glow. he had grown it out, by your suggestion. he was everything in the world a man should be.

“what about you?”

“i hate boys. they’re all stupid.”

“you got that right. you’re too good for all of them, never settle.”

“maybe it’s just boys my own age. theyre so immature.”

arts wide chest heaves. his eyes flick to you then flick back down. you see it all, and cross one leg over the other.

“maybe.”

“what were you like when you were my age?”

he laughs at the memory.

“stupid, immature, evil. if i was anything to go by you should swear off men entirely until menopause.”

air left your chest cavity.

“i don’t wanna wait. i want a fully formed one.”

you watched the muscles in arts forearms flex as he squeezed the lemon onto salad. the main course was cooking, was singing loudly on the stove. art had gotten into cooking after the divorce. it took all his attention and put it in one place, something complex and delicate and time consuming. it helped to clear his head. it wasn’t helping right this second.

“i shouldn’t say that,” he said curtly,”boys your age aren’t so bad. give them a go and quit hanging out with an old man.”

“but i like you, old man.”

art was so harsh on himself. he really wasn’t that old. and you really weren’t that young.

he pressed his lips together and kept squeezing. his pink lips, that gave his face the everlasting youth it held. he shrugged his shoulders in that way he did when he was confronted with the truth of your arrangement. there was something going on. something very, very, very wrong. you were the same age as his daughter. 3 months younger. he was the worst man in the world. the worst person to ever breathe. what could he do though? tell you to go? tell you to leave his house and never come back? what would become of you then? without him, what pillar of paternity would you rely upon? what new low would you reach? what men would you come across, and what would you do to please them? while he gingerly entertained you, you dangled something in front of his face that others would not have the restraint or morality to resist. if you had to move to another target, your next victim might not care so deeply for your wellbeing. were you not altogether safer, sitting in his kitchen, eating his caesar salad, rather than inhaling second hand cigarettes from old wrinkled fucks who might murder you, or worse-

“art?”

“mr donaldson.”

“you got a bunch of lemon pips in the salad.”

“oh.”

he set down the lemon.

“are you ok? you seem tense.”

“i’m good. are you cold? i can turn on the heating if you like.”

“no. it’s actually quite warm in here.”

he hears the zip of your hoodie and starts away from the island, under the pretence of getting a paper towel to deposit the lemon seeds on. your jumper clatters to the counter, and you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. low cut top. he knows that’s what you’re wearing. because that’s all it’s been for the past 2 months. your mini skirt flowers around you as you sit, but when you stand each swish and sway of the fabric is a death sentence. god forbid you take the stairs for some ungodly reason.

“hey, you know what you said about never having the urge?”

oh, fuck off, he thought. fuck off. leave him be. leave him alone. release him.

“yes.”

“you can’t really mean that can you?”

“sure i can.”

“i mean, you can. but i don’t think you do.”

you twirled a strand of hair in between your fingers. your stomach grumbled, loud enough that he could hear. you were so hungry you could die, but if you ate what art was frying your breath would smell like fish all night.

“let me check the salmon.”

“i’m not that hungry. you can’t mean that you never had the urge to. everyone has urges.”

“well sure. but after tashi, i needed a breather. a grace period, if you will. you can’t go from marriage with a woman like her right into dating.”

“but it’s been 3 years. you must be over it by now?”

he ignored the hope in your voice. ignore, ignore, ignore.

“i am over it. but. women scare me.”

he walked languidly over the salmon. it was ready.

“i don’t scare you, i’m a woman.”

a woman. he turned off the stove, and turned to fix you with a stare for the first time tonight. a woman. that was not the word he would use to describe you. your eyes were the size of saucers, and you bat your lashes languidly, like you knew how much you were making him suffer. you sat up pin straight, and twisted your spine to make eye contact with him. your body. he tried not to look. tried not to look in front of you and see the twisted grin come across your lips. but he was a weak man. the weakest of men, and his eyes dragged over where a fatherly view should never cross. your perky new tits, the press and curve of your ass against the counter, the plush of your thighs. it seemed you had grown up overnight, and didn’t know you were still a baby. you’re a baby. you knew what you were doing to him. you knew. he blushed involuntarily.

“you scare me most of all.”

his voice trembled. he hadn’t meant to say that. hadn’t meant to dignify you will any response at all. it had crossed his mind and then it crossed his lips.

your eyes lit up with extreme delight. he liked to make you happy, but his stomach churned with the thought of why.

“why?”

he turned back around, and plated up your salmon, adding potatos and asparagus from the same pan, drizzling it all in the residual oil.

“why art?”

“mr donaldson.”

a twinge of irritation tickles your stomach. what was he fighting this for? you’re all grown up now. you both knew what was going to happen. he was resisting fate, the inevitable.

all your life you had known he was the man you were meant to be with. from that first time he kissed your forehead as you dozed off on the couch, thinking you were asleep. when his strong arms would carry both you and his daughter, flinging you around, threatening to dunk you in their backyard pool. when he would catch your eye in the rear view mirror as he drove you around and winked. he was so nice. so nice and brave and kind and warm, and if you had to be with any man it should be him because you’ve loved him since you were 8, and now you’re old enough to claim it. you’re not just a dumb kid with a crush. you love him. you understand it being one sided back then. but it isn’t anymore, and you wouldn’t let him deny it. with gliding footsteps you approached him, drawing closer every second he didn’t turn around. a hand rests on his shoulder blade.

“just stop,” you breathed after a pause.

his spatula clattered to the pan with a metallic thunk. you pull your hand away like he burnt you. he gripped the counter with a sigh and hung his head.

“you stop. stop it now,” his voice was stern. you felt yourself shrink. art was never stern.

“i know what you’re thinking, and it’s not going to happen. this has gone on far too long and it stops right now.”

a mere few paces from his wide curved back, you blink. the urge to touch him is overwhelming. you want to press your hand to his back, feel him under your palm and tell him you know he wants this. you know he wants this just as bad as you do.

but you don’t, because he’s angry at you, and he’s never been angry at you before.

“i’ve let you come here and cooked you food and watched movies with you because you’re a good kid. because i knew you as a kid and i know your problems with your father and i wanted to be there for you when lily is away. but you have taken this too far. you’re my daughters best friend. i have cleaned up your vomit twice, i baked you a cake for your 13th birthday- it’s not right. i’ve tried to be understanding, i’ve tried to ignore it, but you never drop it. never. your lack of self respect is staggering. you have to drop it right now or, im sorry but you can’t come back here anymore.”

every muscle fibre was clenched. if the counter top wasn’t marble it would’ve crunch and fell away under his grip. he couldn’t take it anymore. he didn’t know how much longer he could be good. didn’t know how much longer he could take resisting you.

maybe he was harsh. but it was the right thing to do. the only thing to do. he rested his elbow on the counter, and between his forefinger and his thumb held the bridge of his nose. he exhaled loudly. he hadn’t meant for it to come out that way, hadn’t planned it. but now it was out. he had stared the elephant in the room dead in its eyes. he felt lighter, somewhat liberated.

until he turned around after a few too many seconds of silence to see you turned away from him, slightly hunched over. he stepped closer, and saw your hands covering your mouth. you body jolted, and you drew in quick, grasping breaths. you were crying. he said your name, and you didn’t turn to look at him.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry mr donaldson.”

all the relief he felt was replaced by swift, acute, crushing guilt. your hair fell over your face, shielding you from him. he said your name once more. you sniffed.

“hey, hey hey hey.”

against his better judgement, and because of the aching of his heart, he took you gently by the shoulders, and turned you to face him.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

tears spill from your eyes and you wipe them away with a heavy hand, refusing to meet his eyes. his neck craned down to your eye level, his thumbs began tracing circle in your shoulders. a thoughtless gesture but one that made you cry even harder.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know what i was thinking. im just so sorry.”

“hey, it’s ok. it’s alright.”

“it’s not alright. i’ve ruined everything. i’ve made it- so- weird. i just thought that you- you wanted me. i’m so stupid.”

your mascara runs, painting your face with your turmoil.

how could you be so dense? you had been making him uncomfortable. he didn’t want you. the only reason he even let you hang around was obligation. because of what you meant to lily. you didn’t mean anything to him. you were just some kid. did he even think you’re pretty? you bet he didn’t.

worse than that, you had disappointed him. him. he was supposed to be everything your dad wasn’t. and now he was disappointed. you had failed. you had ruined everything. what even were you? were you even human?

“don’t. you’re not stupid. don’t say that.”

“i’m sorry. i just- i wanted to make you happy. that’s all i ever wanted. i wanted you to be happy with me. you were so- so- so crushed after the divorce, i-i just-“

he guides you over to the bar stool, and you let him. you sit across from each other. his hand touches your cheek, the other holds you shoulder still. the touch of his hand quietens your babbling, your eyes round and wet and open.

“you do make me happy.”

your lips parted, plump with crying.

“i do?”

he cringes at the hope in your voice, at the feeling in his chest that it stirs. the feeling in his whole body at touching, after so many years, your soft skin. the last time he held your face you were 8, crying over a bumped knee. he had very different feelings now than he did then. sympathy and concern had ebbed, making way for much darker, much more corrosive emotions. he felt guilt and want broil in the chambers of his stomach, and the evilness inside him told him how easy to would be to get what he wanted. how close he was.

“yes. you’re my favourite buddy, we have a great time together,” he ruffled your shoulder like you pat a dog, speaking quick to placate you.

the hope in your eyes dwindled.

“so,” you sniffled, “you don’t feel anything for me? you don’t-don’t want me at all?”

with your convulsive sobbing your chest rose and fell, and with each jolt you spilled further out of your thread bare top. he closed his eyes, and swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing. inhaling deeply, his fingers released your shoulder.

“it doesn’t matter what i want.”

“yes it does, it matters the most,” you answer immediately, tears gone from your eyes, now sliding down from your water line and down your cheek, “what do you want?”

what does art want? when was the last time he asked himself that question? years. at least. he drew away from you. you felt sick.

he turned on the stool, ducking his head and cradling his face in his hands

“i want…”

what the fuck was he saying? he couldn’t say this to you. he couldn’t. but he was.

“i… you’re a very gorgeous girl. you’re sweet. you’re smart. you’re funny. i like you very much.”

he said it like he was confessing to murder. elbow resting on his knee, his hand covered his eyes with splayed fingers. god, he was going to hell for this. even saying the words felt like the deepest sin imaginable, and he was sanitising his truth extensively. what he thought about at night, when you went home and his house became cold again, when he got into the shower and mechanically relieved himself into the drain, that was truly deplorable. when he touched himself, it was you he thought of. invariably. everything a man could possibly do to a girl, everything a girl could possibly do to a man, he had laid up in his bed and touched himself to with you in mind. ropes and ropes and ropes of cum in your honour, so gently splattered on shower walls and bedsheets he needed to wash anyway. sometimes he came on his torso, just to feel young and frivolous, like you were. and when he did his brain would turn back on, and he would feel so guilty that he would lay there to soak up his guilt, a punishment for himself from himself. so yes. he wanted you. he wanted you very, very badly. with every fibre of his being, he craved you. and with every fibre of his soul, he hated himself for it. but apparently he was still talking. what his morality urged him his mouth couldn’t hear, or wouldn’t obey.

“so don’t think you’re delusional. you had every reason to think i might reciprocate.”

you watched him, glossy eyes wide as ever. he peeked from beneath his fingers, immediately covering his eyes again when he saw you watch him. he shouldn’t have said that. he shouldn’t have. that was bad, it’s only giving you hope, and there is no hope. he can’t, he can’t. he want to so badly but he can’t. god, no he can’t. it would be so easy but easy isn’t right and how could he ever look his daughter in the eyes again if he did? how could he look at tashi?

“mr donaldson?”

“mm,” he replied miserably.

“kiss me.”

slowly, exhausted, he lifted up his head. mistake. now he was thinking about it as he looked at your face, puffy and damp and shining like a star.

why did he look so disgusted? what was so wrong with you? you couldn’t stop yourself from barreling ahead, feeling his premature rejection like a rock in your stomach.

“just once. then i’ll leave and i’ll never bother you and you won’t see me anymore and i’ll go to church and ill get a therapist, but just once.”

he looks so tired. so tired and so fucking good. his eyes smouldered with deep thought, the thought only a mature man can have. he was so mature. he was so much larger than you. he could hurt you if he wanted to. he could make you do anything but all he did was look at you so tired it made you squirm inside. as your sobs died in your throat, regret and embarrassment become indistinguishable from desire.

he blinked slowly, and opened his mouth. the white of his teeth glittered. his tongue pawed the inside of his cheek. he was thinking about it.

how could he be thinking about it? he was the worst person in the world. and yet. and yet. one kiss. he could control it with one kiss. one kiss wouldn’t hurt. one kiss. he had kissed your head before. your cheek. what was so different about this?

wordlessly, he moved off the stool. heart in your mouth you waited. a tremulous breath shuddered from your chest as he took one step. two steps. three steps. until he was stood above you. his face was unreadable. not cold. not warm. just looking, appraising from above his brown lower lashes, down his strong kissable nose.

“one kiss?”

his hand rose slowly, palm facing upwards. his finger tips grazed your jaw, your chin, tilting your head up. fireworks burst in your stomach, and you resisted the urge to moan.

“one. that’s all.”

one. that would be all. one kiss and he would put this silly fascination away for good. a kiss is deniable. a kiss is nothing.

he stoops down, can feel the nerves vibrating from your skin. his head tilts slightly, and your eyes lock as he descends to your level. his hand moves into your hair, a combing hold. and you kiss. no tongue. your lips connect, mush and expand over the others. his nose touched your cheek. your arms remained stiff by your side as they gripped the stool. you felt the pinkness of his lips, felt the edge of his cupids bow. and then he pulled away.

there. one kiss. he had done what he had to to get you to drop it. had fulfilled your criteria, and now you could move on. now he could move on.

but if that was true, why was he leaning in again? why did almost tasting your saliva, a substance he had thought about in great detail, make him hungrier for it? why was almost having it worse than never coming close? why did he pull gently on your hair, making your head tip back, opening you mouth so he could kiss the part of you he craved; the inside part? why was he hard if it was over?

his tongue flicked gently inside, asking permission. your mouths closed together, making the kiss noise you hate hearing but love making. they open quickly and in sequence. your hands rise up to gently hover over his chest, barely grazing his shirt. you didn’t want to touch him too hard in case he dissipated into a cloud of smoke, an illusion.

but he was very real, and under your timid girlish touch he was undone. a soft exhalation like a groan into your mouth, and his tongue protruded. it touched yours and you tasted the salt on it, shivering. his other hand fell back to your shoulder, gripping so hard it was like had no idea what he was doing. feeling your mouth against his was all that there was. there wasn’t right, there wasn’t wrong, there was only sensation.

all the want he had saved for solitary and depressing masturbation now burst through his veins, into his actions and he kissed you with all the passion in him. with everything he’s never said, with all the times he held back with you, with tashi. he kissed you like if he didn’t he would die, breathing and groaning and grunting involuntarily. he mashed his face to yours, crushing your lips, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before recapturing your mouth in a sloppy open mouthed kiss. it felt like steam evaporated from where your met, so hot and wet.

you didn’t know what was your and what was art, where you finished and art began. you meshed like the broken pieces of a vase slotted against each other. his tongue became so wild it clipped the side of your mouth in its frantic exploration, and you sighed.

ultimately it was you who had to pull away. you pulled your hands into your own chest, gasping for breath. he didn’t move an inch. he gripped your shoulder still, cradled your face the same. he opened his eyes, chest rising and falling graciously.

he surveyed you, still too high from your touch to feel guilt, with lazy eyes. he was so fucked. your eyes sparkled like glitter. your lips shined pearly with his spit. his.

“art?”

“yes?”

“it’s not just one kiss is it?”

despite himself, despite everything, he smiled.

“no. i don’t think it is.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Either college or old man Ford being with someone who, even after all the years theyve spent together, still looks at them like a lovesick puppy

like theyre blushing and getting flustered when he rests his hands on their waist or doing normal couple stuff, etc.

it's like their mind still doesn't register that they're together and instead, to cope, just proceeded to have the most down bad crush on their HUSBAND

(like that one reddit post LMAOO)

You knew that you were staring but you didn’t care, and you knew that Ford knew that you were staring and yet you didn’t care when the finest man in existence was before you and was also your husband?!

You still found it impossible to come to terms that this silver fox was yours forever and always, you still get flustered when he compliments you and your bed head, even more so when he cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses your forehead.

You really shouldn’t be this badly affected after being with Ford for so long, but you couldn’t help it! Your husband was hot and you’d be blind to not take time out of your day to stare at him, shamelessly admiring his aging face and silver fluffy hair that looked like storm clouds! It was unfair that Ford looked so effortlessly beautiful no matter what he did that it left you swooning and pining after him like a lovesick fool, you’d find yourself asking if he was single…

Only to remember that you were married to him and got to see him be so effortlessly handsome every damn day of your life and you end up smiling stupidly.

‘You alright my love?’ Ford asked and you internally squealed like a little girl.

‘I am just perfectly fine my dear, just admiring my beautiful and talented and smart husband is all.’ You admitted also sheepishly as though you were confessing to him all over again as you felt the best rush to your cheeks and tips of your ears.

Ford smiled softly as he walked over to you and held your face in his hands, feeling the warmth radiation off of your cheeks as he caressed them; After all this time together Ford was aware of the fact he still held some power over you and he couldn’t help but feel flattered at how little had changed from then to now.

It was charming and sweet and kind of you to still look at him through the lens you did since your time at college together, he didn’t feel like he deserved it, but he knew that feeling would fade the moment he looked into your eyes and saw the abundance of love you held for him was still thriving and very much alive.

‘That is very sweet of you my dear,’ Ford said softly as he kissed your forehead, ‘you truly enlighten me with your love and affection that I can not thank you enough for marrying this old fool.’ He chuckled as he saw your eyes widened as though you still weren’t accustomed to the reality that you two were indeed married and have been for the past two months. Ford often wondered what what off in that head of yours but from the look within your eyes, he already knew his answer and couldn’t help but find it endearing.

‘I’d be the fool if I didn’t marry you Ford, even a bigger fool if I didn’t say anything back in college. I think I’d fight myself if i didn’t.’ You admitted as you thought of an alternate universe where you didn’t spill your guts to Ford back in college, you honestly didn’t want to think of where your life would’ve been like had you not married Ford as you were certain it was one full of regret and longing for what could’ve been. So you thanked god every night as you cuddled up to him in your shared bed that you got to live in a reality where you got Ford to be yous in every aspect possible.

Ford chuckled. ‘I highly doubt there is one where we don’t end up together my darling, and trust me I’ve been through the entire multiverse for the past thirty years.’ His eyes then soften as he rests his forehead against yours, causing your whole body to heat up at the action as you found yourself melting into him and his warmth. ‘I’m just happy that you were willing to wait so long for me. So, so happy.’ He adds in a whisper.

You nudged his noses with yours, flighting off the butterflies that were now within your stomach and running rampant at his words alone. ‘I would’ve waited far longer if needed just to see you home safe and sound.’ You told him as you kissed his nose and cheeks softly, happy to be in his arms and breath him in, content in knowing that he was here and that he was real unlike the dreams you had in the past. ‘So don’t thank me for doing something I would’ve done ten times over. You deserve as such Ford.’ You add as you pecked him lightly on the lips reassuringly.

‘Still I must thank my adorning wife/husband/spouse for being by my side when they had every right to walk away.’ Ford said as he tugged you closer to his chest, just innocently holding you in his arms lovingly but yet you couldn’t help but feel your heart hammer in your chest at being so close with him as you burrowed your face into his heck.

‘Your wife/husband/spouse is just happy to see you home where you’d belong with your family.’ You murmured again his red turtleneck, holding his waist tightly as you indulged in his comforting scent, something you loved about him that rivalled your love for his six fingers.

‘And I’m happy that I get the opportunity to call you my wife/husband/spouse.’ Ford admits as he kisses the top of your head before nuzzling his face into your neck, pressing a tender kiss there which made your breath hitch in your throat. ‘I love you my darling, so, so much.’ He whispers as though it was something that would only be shared between the two of you, like no one else is allowed to hear such talk between lovers and soulmates.

Your love for Ford was insurmountable, no words could properly describe just how much you love this man that you were more then willing to rip heaven and hell for, to rip through time and space just to see him home safe, anything if it meant seeing a man as sweet and loving as him smile that adorable smile of his in your direction.

You needed Ford like you needed air to breathe, water to drink and food to eat. Ford was a necessity for your survival and you weren’t going to let him go ever again, for you didn’t know how you’d be able to cope without him again.

Sure you might still have an embarrassingly massive crush on your husband, and become flustered every time he held your hand, kissed your forehead or even looked at you lovingly but you weren’t ashamed of it as it just meant that you were that your love rang true even after so long. If anything it meant that your love was stronger then most that fizzle out after a certain period of time, and yet you couldn’t help but smile stupidly and look away whether Ford complimented you or engulfed your hand with his own.

Ford was your best friend, husband and your crush all at the same time and you were more then happy to have finally gotten your happy ending with him, all the while staying perpetually in love with him regardless of the passage of time because Ford was so much more then your husband but he was massive part of yourself that you couldn’t live without nor intend to.

‘I love you so much my beloved Ford.’ You said as you rested your eyes and listened in on his strong heartbeat that told you he was alive as he held you tighter. ‘So very, very much.’

‘Then I hope you keep loving me for a long time.’ Ford confessed as he kissed your neck some more.

‘And I’ll promise to love you for an even longer amount of time after that.’ You admit as you moved your neck so that he’d have more access as you clutched onto him, smiling dopey as you felt as though you were on cloud nine within your husbands arms, blissed out of your mind as it ran rampant with ideas for the rest of your shared lives together.

[shangchiswife]

joel miller- the babysitter?

....

summary: sarah’s old babysitter comes to visit from graduate school and joel is surprised

warnings: smut, age gap

word count: 2140

link to part 2: part 2

....

Joel Miller stood in the kitchen, his eyebrows furrowed with concentration.

He was determined to get the pancakes in front of him perfect. It was Sarah’s birthday and he just wanted to show her how much he appreciated her.

He had just finished making breakfast when his daughter bolted down the stairs.

“Morning dad,” she chirped before taking a seat at the breakfast table where Joel had placed a hot syrupy stack of pancakes.

“Morning baby girl, happy birthday,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead before taking a seat beside her.

“Pancakes! Thank you so much, dad!” she grinned before she immediately started to pile the pancakes onto her plate.

His gaze was soft as he stared at his little girl that was growing up so fast.

“So what’s the plan for today?” she asked with her mouth full.

“Mouth closed, Sarah, and whatever you want,” he ruffled her hair and she giggled.

“Thanks so much, dad, well I was thinking-”

Sarah was interrupted by the sound of the loud doorbell that sounded like it needed to be fixed.

The two glanced at each other with confusion.

“Were you expecting someone, Sarah?” Joel questioned, staring at his only daughter.

“No…” she shook her head quizzically. 

Joel stood up, rubbing his hands on his jeans before going over to the door and opening it.

When he opened it he was shocked to see you standing there dressed in a pretty white sundress, the bright sun illuminating your beaming face.

“Y/N,” he said with surprise.

“Mr. Miller, it’s nice to see you. Is Sarah here? I have a present for her,” you lifted up a small pink gift bag in your hand.

“Yeah she is, uh…come in,” he scratched the back of his head as you came inside eagerly.

“Y/N!” Sarah screamed with joy as she abandoned her breakfast and darted over to you and immediately jumped into your arms. 

“Sarah it’s so nice to see you! Look at how much you’ve grown,” you took her face in your hands and caressed it, her doe brown eyes gazing adoringly into yours. 

You had babysat for Sarah during your gap year and during college, while you were at a university nearby Austin, wanting to earn some money. Then once you were done with college you were accepted into a good Graduate program outside of Texas and rarely visited due to your busy schedule.

Joel stared at you.

He remembered you asking him to read over your college essays and him trying his best to make comments even though your work was exceptional. Hell, he remembered you putting Sarah to bed even though she begged you to stay up and watch tv. You had played an important role in Sarah’s development and he appreciated that. And now here you were so mature, hardened from the city life. 

“Here’s your gift, Sarah, I hope you like it,” you smiled, handing her the bright pink gift bag, watching as she threw out the wrapping paper.

“Woah a Britney Spears shirt and an Avril Lavigne cd! Thanks so much, Y/N,” Sarah marveled at the contents of the bag before embracing you once more.

“No problem. Anything for my favorite kid,” you winked at her as her cheeks glowed from the praise.

Suddenly the doorbell rang again and all heads turned to the crimson-red door once more.

“Good grief, how many more people are gonna knock on my door,” Joel muttered under his breath as you suppressed a giggle.

You had always had a little school-girl crush on Joel when you babysat Sarah. The way he was always so kind and gentle to you. It also didn’t help how handsome he was with his dark hair that was slightly greyed and his large muscular build, and serious dark eyes. All the girls your age had the same thoughts about Joel calling him a “silver fox.” Joel was completely oblivious to their comments, and if he did know he did a damn good job of hiding it.

This time Sarah ran up to the door and swung it open.

“Lily!” she squealed with delight as a girl around her age entered the house.

“Hey, Sarah, happy birthday! My mom was wondering if you wanted to go to the city mall with us and get a gift for you,” the girl said as Sarah immediately spun towards Joel and gave him her best puppy eyes.

You shook your head and chuckled.

You remembered when she used to do that when she wanted to stay up past her bedtime.

Joel scratched his facial hair.

“I don’t know…”

With that response, Sarah smacked him lightly with the Avril Lavigne cd she had just been gifted, her brown face scrunching up with anger.

“Alright, alright, easy I was just joking,” he chuckled as Sarah narrowed her eyes at him and then skipped away with Lily leaving the two of you alone.

It seemed that Joel had just realized and he turned around and stared at you.

“Oh…uh Y/N you can stay for dinner if you’d like I’m sure I can make something…” he said awkwardly.

You didn’t know why he was being so awkward, he was always normal when you were around.

“That sounds good, Mr. Miller,”

“Oh Y/N, you know you can just call me Joel,” his mouth twisted to the side which made you grin.

“Fine, that sounds good, Joel,” you smiled before plopping onto one of the sofas sprawled out in the cozy living room.

….

Once Joel had brought a warm plate of cookies, the awkwardness between the two of you was over and you started exchanging stories.

“And that was how Sarah got on the soccer team,” Joel wolfed down his cookie before you let out a hearty laugh.

“I can’t believe she got on there with no experience and a broken wrist,” you giggled.

“Yeah but now she’s carryin’ the team,” he said, putting the plate down on the table beside him.

As he moved over to do that simple action, your eyes flickered down to his jeans, they fit so snugly around his thick thighs.

Jesus Christ get a grip, Y/N you thought trying your hardest not to stare at them.

Once the man returned to his seat he spread his legs for comfort.

“Lord, this man is going to drive me insane,” you muttered, rubbing your temples as you could feel yourself growing wet from under your dress.

“You alright, there, Y/N?” the handsome man cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowing with concern.

“I’m alright I just-” 

At that moment your car keys flew off your wrist and under the sofa.

“Shit,” you cursed as you bent down under the couch and searched for them.

Joel’s eyes widened and his breath hitched the moment you bent down to reach for your keys, your pretty sundress hiked up and revealed your lacy black panties.

His cock twitched in his pants as he stared at your ass. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled thinking that no one could hear him. 

But you could.

You peeked at him for a second, watching as his eyes darken as they watched your every movement.

Wanting to tease him more you wiggled your ass, wanting to get a reaction out of him.

He adjusted in his seat, fidgeting uncomfortably as he rubbed his hands on his jeans.

You fished your car keys from under the couch and placed them promptly back in your purse before going over to Joel, kneeling.

“Joel, are you feeling alright?” you kneeled right in front of his thighs, placing a gentle hand on his knee as Joel held back a groan.

He did nothing but gape as you moved his thighs aside so that you could slip in between them.

“Fuck, sweetheart what are you doin’?” Joel brought a hand down to caress your cheek.

“Please,” you looked up at him pleadingly.

“Please what,” his fingers drew shapes into your cheeks as you closed your eyes with bliss.

“Please let me suck your cock,” you placed your head on his thigh, cheeks flushed as he stroked your hair.

“Are you sure?” he struggled with his words as you nuzzled into his thigh.

“I want to,”

Your words sent the blood rushing to his cock as he took one of his fingers and put it in your mouth.

“Suck,” he commanded as you immediately complied, looking up at him innocently.

“Holy shit,” he said as he continued to thrust his finger in and out of your mouth watching as a string of drool pooled from your lips.

You whined, clearly wanting something bigger in your mouth.

“Alright princess, you show me how it’s done,” Joel rested his head back against the sofa as he watched your calculated movements.

You smirked as you rubbed your hands up and down his muscular thighs, then placed one hand on his clothed erection and traced it lightly.

“Uh uh, if you keep on doing that I’m not gonna be so nice,” he growled, gripping your chin roughly, making sure that you locked eyes with him.

You gave him a small smile before pressing a single kiss to his clothed cock.

Then you started working the zipper of his jeans, watching as his cock sprung out, pre-cum leaking from his tip, just waiting to be touched.

Your mouth watered at the sight. 

Joel guided your head, pushing it closer to his cock as you wrapped your lips around it.

“Shit yeah that’s it, princess,” he said, his head hitting the back of the couch, enjoying the warmth of your tongue on his dick.

While you took more of him in your mouth you simultaneously stroked him and fondled his balls.

“Jesus Christ,” he panted as he raked his hands through your hair, fisting it tightly.

You moaned at the pulling, the vibrations going straight to Joel’s cock.

You sink deeper into him, wanting to please him desperately as you continued to fondle his balls and wrap one of your hands around the base of his shaft.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he praised, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as you whimpered from the praise, growing wetter by the moment.

“Yeah, you like being called a good girl?” he teased, a smirk playing at his lips as he watched you struggle with his length.

Your pussy clenched around nothing as he continued to fist your hair.

You close your eyes with bliss as you continue to milk him while he lets out loud groans that go straight to your drooling cunt.

“Fuck I’m gonna-”

“Down my throat,” you breathe out as Joel completely loses it and stands up, thrusting his dick into your mouth at a brutal pace.

You moan loudly, tears leaking down your face as Joel continues to fuck you, groaning at his pleasure.

“You fuckin’ whore, having a little crush on your boss,”

You looked up at him, whimpering as tears continued to rush down your cheeks.

“Such a pretty little mouth, taking my cock so well,” he moaned as his pace faltered.

You rubbed your thighs together, wanting some friction of some sort to aid your untouched pussy.

Joel thrust one last time and released his seed, painting your throat white as he slipped out of your mouth.

He watched his cum drip down your chin and he almost became hard again at the pretty sight.

“Swallow,” he ordered as you immediately complied and swallowed his cum.

“Good girl,” he whispered as he knelt down to your cockdumb state and caressed your cheeks.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asked, sweetly.

“Yeah, Joel I’m amazing,” you said as you leaned your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him, threading your hand through his cropped hair.

The man’s breath hitched before he embraced you back, drawing circles on your back with the pad of his thumb.

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“So damn cute,” he whispered in your ear as you giggled.

“You really think so?” your heart swelled with joy at his compliment.

“I know so,” he said as you hid your smile in his chest.

“So when can we meet again?” you asked looking up at him as he looked down at you, his eyes soft and not serious like they usually are.

“Tomorrow Sarah is having her birthday party here and then Lily’s mom is taking em’ skating at the mall in the city so the house will be free,” he smirked as your cheeks heated up.

“I’ll be there,” you stood up, taking your purse and putting it over your shoulder.

“And tomorrow you’ll get your turn,” he said, winking.

You grinned at him before opening the front door and shutting it behind you.

You could not wait for tomorrow.

[kiesbrainjuice]

— FAV HQ BOYS WITH THIS TREND !

pr : timeskip!bokuto x fem!reader; timeskip!suna x fem!reader; timeskip!kageyama x fem!reader; nekoma!kuroo x fem!reader; timeskip!atsumu x fem!reader.

syn : you show your boyfriend a trending photo pose. After some playful banter, you both decide to try recreating the pose.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

wc : 3.5k

tw : no noya and kenma :(( suggestive talks and ends, fluff ! credit pic : srkork on insta

— BOKUTO KOTARO

The lazy Sunday afternoon stretched out before us like a cat in a sunbeam. Outside, the world was alive with the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chatter of neighbors enjoying the warm weather. But inside our cozy apartment, time seemed to slow to a delicious crawl.

Bokuto Koutarou and I were sprawled across our bed, a tangle of limbs and laughter. The late afternoon sun filtered through our fluttering curtains, painting everything in a soft, golden glow. It caught in Bokuto's wild silver hair, making it shine like a haphazard halo. I couldn't help but marvel at how even in this state of complete relaxation, he managed to look like he'd just stepped off a volleyball court – his muscular arm draped over my waist, a reminder of the power coiled within his laid-back frame.

We'd spent the morning in a whirlwind of activity – a impromptu volleyball match with friends that had turned into a picnic, which had then evolved into a competitive round of frisbee. By the time we made it home, we were pleasantly exhausted, content to lounge in comfortable silence.

Now, we were both absorbed in our phones, sharing the occasional meme or funny video. Bokuto's laughter, when it erupted, was like a sudden thunderclap – loud, infectious, and impossible to ignore. It never failed to make me smile, even when I had no idea what had tickled him so.

I was idly scrolling through Pinterest, looking for new recipe ideas (though knowing full well that Bokuto would eat anything I put in front of him with the same enthusiastic gusto), when a particular image caught my eye. It was edgy, provocative, and unlike anything we'd ever tried before.

"Bo," I said, gently nudging his ribs with my elbow. "look at this. It's pretty nice."

He rolled over, nearly crushing me in the process, his golden eyes bright with curiosity. "What's up, babe? Found another cute owl video?"

I shook my head, angling my phone so he could see the screen. "Nah, it's this new photo trend. Check it out."

The image showed a couple taking a selfie, but with a twist. The guy had his arm around the girl's neck, pretending to choke her in what was meant to be an sexy, edgy pose. It was provocative, to say the least.

Bokuto's eyebrows shot up, disappearing into his messy fringe. "Whoa, hold up! Is he trying to choke her or something? That's...weird!"

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction. You could see the confusion on his face. Bokuto was usually up for anything, but this clearly threw him for a loop. "No, no, it's not real choking," you explained. "It's just for the picture, to make it look sexy and l possessive."

He scratched his head, his expression a mix of bewilderment and amusement. "I dunno, baby… It looks kinda weird. What if I really choke you with those strong arms of mine?"

You turned to face him, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come onnnn, Bo. You could look sexy and scary! You're like a big, cuddly owl."

He puffed out his chest, trying to look offended but failing miserably. "Hey! I can be sexy and scary when I want to be!"

You laughed, poking his cheek. "Sure you can, tough guy. So, do it for me!"

Bokuto's face scrunched up in thought for a moment before breaking into a grin. "Alright, let's do it baby! But if i choke you, we're deleting it and I’m killing myself, okay?"

You grinned back, relieved. "Deal. And hey, if it doesn't work out, do not kill urself please, Bo."

"If you ask!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. "But even if you have the picture don’t post it!"

You couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "Of course I won’t, Bo. Let's start with this and see how it goes."

After your initial attempt, you had an idea. "Hey Bo, let's try using the mirror length for the picture.”

Bokuto's eyes lit up. "Ooh, yeah! We can see more of us that way!"

You scrambled off the bed and positioned yourselves in front of the mirror. It was then that you really noticed what Bokuto was wearing - one of his compression shirts that he usually wore for volleyball practice. The tight black fabric clung to every contour of his muscular torso, accentuating his broad shoulders and defined chest.

You couldn't help but stare for a moment. Even after all this time, the sight of him like this still made your heart race. "Uh, Bo? Have you always looked this good in that shirt?"

He glanced down at himself, then back at you with a mischievous grin. "Oh? Like what you see, huh?"

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Maybe. Just a little."

Bokuto flexed playfully, striking a pose. "Well, I did just finish a workout this morning. Gotta keep in shape for my number one!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Alright, muscles, let's focus on the photo. Same pose as the pic?"

He nodded, moving behind you and wrapping his arm around your neck. This time, you could feel the warmth of his chest against my back, the firm pressure of his muscles through the thin fabric of his shirt. It was... distracting, to say the least.

"Ready?"You asked, trying to keep my voice steady as you held up your phone.

"Ready!" Bokuto replied, his breath tickling your ear.

You snapped the picture, capturing your reflection in the mirror. Bokuto's arm was around your neck, his intense "game face" expression in full effect. But what really stood out was the contrast between you both - his powerful, athletic frame in that form-fitting shirt, next to your smaller figure.

As soon as the picture was taken, Bokuto's serious expression melted into a grin. He peered over your shoulder at the phone screen. "Wow! We look good, don't we?"

You nodded, a little breathless. "Yeah, we do. Especially you in that shirt. Maybe you should wear it more often."

Bokuto's grin widened. "Oh? I thought you liked my owl-print t-shirts better…"

You turned in his arms, looking up at him. "Let's just say both have their merits! But right now, I'm definitely appreciating this one."

You handed him the phone to show him the photo you took. his eyes opened wider and he felt quite aroused by the photo of you surrounded by his arm. “w-wow, you turn me on…”

But he tried to get over it and leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. "Noted. So, another picture, or...?"

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I think we've got enough pictures for now. How about we find something else to do…?"

Bokuto's golden eyes sparkled with mischief. "I might have a few ideas…"

As he leaned in for a kiss you chuckled into it…

— SUNA RINTAROU

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. The sun was shining bright outside, and a cool breeze was blowing. In your room, everything felt slow and peaceful. It was the kind of quiet that feels good when you're with someone you really like.

Suna, your boyfriend, was lying on your bed, looking relaxed. His eyes were half-closed as he looked at his phone. The sun made his face look nice, showing off his sharp jaw and the small smile on his lips. You couldn't help but stare a little.

You were both doing your own thing, but still felt close. Sometimes Suna would laugh at something on his phone, or you'd say something small. It felt nice and normal. In these quiet times, you felt closest to Suna. He looked softer than usual, and you could see how much he cared even if he didn't say it.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"baby," you said, breaking the comfortable silence. "look at this."

He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. His eyes, usually half-lidded, showed a flicker of interest. "What's up?"

You showed him the picture on your phone - a couple doing the possessive choking pose with the muscular arm for a selfie. "It's this new photo trend. Kind of sexy, don't you think?"

Suna's eyebrows raised slightly, the most expression you'd seen from him all afternoon. "Huh? Interesting choice for a couples photo…"

You could see the wheels turning in his head as he analyzed the image. Suna was always observant, probably already picking up on details you'd missed.

"Wanna try it?" you asked, a hint of challenge in your voice.

He looked at you, then back at the phone, a small smirk playing on his lips. "You sure about that? I don't think you could pull off the 'dramatically choked' look. You'd probably start laughing."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. He knew you too well. "Oh, c’mon. I can be serious when I want to be!"

Suna sat up, his movements fluid and graceful. "Alright, let's see it then. Your ‘serious’ face."

You tried your best to look serious and dramatic, but you could feel your lips twitching, fighting back a smile.

Suna's smirk grew wider. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Very intimidating."

You grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him, which he easily dodged. "It’s your fault, your face makes me laugh! How about you show me how it's done?"

He shrugged, but you could see a glimmer of competitive spirit in his eyes. "Well thanks…” he sighed and raised his eyebrows ”And sure, why not. Could be interesting."

You positioned yourselves in front of the mirror. Suna stood behind you, his arm loosely draped around your neck. Even in this silly pose, you could feel the quiet strength in his lean muscles.

"Ready?" you asked, holding up your phone.

Suna nodded, his face transforming into an intense, focused expression that you usually only saw during volleyball matches. It was almost unnerving how quickly he could switch it on.

You snapped the picture, capturing your reflection. Suna's intense muscular arm bore into the camera, a stark contrast to your slightly flustered expression.

As soon as the picture was taken, Suna's arm relaxed back into its usual demeanor. He peered at the phone screen over your shoulder.

"Not bad," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Though I think we just proved my point about your serious face, baby."

You elbowed him gently in the ribs. "shut up. Not everyone can go from zero to intimidating in half a second like you."

He wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. "It's a gift," he deadpanned, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

You leaned back into him, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. "So, what do you think? Should we post it?"

Suna was quiet for a moment, considering. "Nah," he finally said. "Let's keep this one just for us. It's more sexy that way."

You smiled, turning in his arms to face him. "You know, for someone who acts so aloof, you can be pretty sweet sometimes."

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the faint blush on his cheeks. "Don't go spreading that around. I have a reputation to maintain. And look at you in my so-muscular arm…"

As you leaned in to kiss him, “I look pretty hot like that…”

— TOBIO KAGEYAMA

It was a rare day off from volleyball practice. You and Tobio were in your living room, trying to relax. The TV was on, playing a volleyball match, but neither of you was really watching. Tobio sat on the couch, his posture a bit stiff, eyes darting between his phone and the TV screen.

"baby," you said, gently nudging his arm. "look at this."

He turned to you, his intense blue eyes focusing. "What is it?"

You showed him your phone screen - a picture of a couple doing the possessive choking pose for a selfie. "It's a new photo trend. Kind of sexy, right?"

Tobio's brow furrowed as he stared at the image. "Why would anyone want a picture like that?" he asked bluntly.

You couldn't help but smile at his typical straightforward response. "I guess some people think it looks sexy or possessive, like me. Want to try it? Just for fun?"

He looked confused for a moment. "Is this important to you?"

"Noooo," you admitted. "I just thought it might be fun to see how it turns out. Be please baby!"

Tobio hesitated, then nodded with a sigh. "Okay. If it'll make you happy..."

You both stood up and moved in front of the mirror. Tobio proudly put his muscular arm around your neck, and started flexing to show off his muscles, which made you chuckle a bit.

"Tobio, can you hold less tight," you said, a hint of teasing in your voice. "I know already how you are muscular, don’t worry baby."

He adjusted his grip slightly, his face a mix of concentration and redness. "L-like this?"

"Perfect. Now pose for me, baby."

Tobio's expression immediately changed to his game face - eyes sharp and focused, jaw set. It was almost scary how quickly he could switch it on.

You snapped the picture quickly. As soon as it was done, Tobio dropped his arm and stepped back, looking relieved.

Looking at the photo, you couldn't help but chuckle. Tobio's intense muscular and flexed arm next to your slightly amused smile was quite a sight.

"What's so funny?" Tobio asked, peering at the screen while chuckling.

"Just us, baby," you said, still smiling. "We look so serious. It's kind of sexy actually, don't you think?"

Tobio's cheeks turned slightly pink. "It's... different," he mumbled. "But I like how you are in my arm like that..."

You felt a warmth in your chest at his honesty. "Me too, baby. How about we take a nice, cozy pic now?"

He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Okay. But no more weird poses."

As you cuddled up to take a regular selfie, you kissed his cheek “I love you, Tobio.”

— KUROO TETSURO

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon at training camp. You were sitting on the grass outside the gym, enjoying a brief respite from the intense volleyball practices. Kuroo sauntered over, his trademark messy hair even more disheveled than usual, and flopped down beside you with a dramatic sigh.

"Exhausted already, captain?" you teased, poking his side.

He flashed you his signature smirk. "Me? Never. Just giving the others a chance to catch up."

You rolled your eyes fondly. "Sure, keep telling yourself that. Hey, check this out."

You showed him your phone screen - a picture of a couple doing the possessive choking pose for a selfie. "It's some new photo trend. Pretty hot, huh?"

Kuroo's eyes lit up with mischief. "Oh? Trying to tell me something, kitten? Didn't know you were into that kind of thing..."

You felt your cheeks heat up as he leaned close to your face, brushing your lips with his at the end of his sentence. "Tetsu! It's not like that. It's just supposed to be…artistic or whatever."

He chuckled, leaning in closer. "Relax, I'm just teasing. Though I gotta say, it does look nice for us. Wanna try?"

You blinked, surprised by his enthusiasm. "Really? You don't think it's too weird?"

Kuroo shrugged, his smirk softening into a genuine smile. "Hey, I'm always up for trying new things with you! Plus, it could be fun to mess with the team later."

You couldn't help but laugh. "You're impossible. Alright, let's do it and my arm is muscular, I could show you..."

You both stood up and moved to a nearby wall. Kuroo positioned himself behind you, his flexed arm draped around your neck. You could feel the warmth of his chest against your back, and it was... distracting, to say the least.

"Ready?" he murmured, his breath tickling your ear when he leaned down just to adjust right after.

You nodded, trying to keep your composure as you held up your phone. "Okay, try to look hot."

“Try?? I don’t even need to try!” He acted offended. Kuroo's expression immediately transformed into his focused game face, the one that always sent shivers down opponents' spines. It was almost unnerving how quickly he could switch it on.

You snapped the picture, then turned in Kuroo's arms to look at it together. The contrast between his muscular arm and your slightly flustered expression was striking.

"Well, well," Kuroo said, his voice low and teasing. "Looks like my arm is so hot, don't you think? Though I gotta say, you look hot under the collar there, kitten. Was it something I did?"

You elbowed him gently, but couldn't help smiling. "Oh, shut up. You're such a tease."

He laughed, pulling you closer. "You love it though, admit it, baby."

You leaned into him, enjoying his warmth. "Maybe. But don't let it go to your head. It's big enough as it is."

Kuroo gasped in mock offense. "My head is perfectly proportional, thank you very much. Anyway, now I can show to everyone that you’re mine…"

He kissed your lips with hunger, but you pushed him back gently. “Not here…”

He took your hand and brings you up, the silly photo forgotten for the moment.

— ATSUMU MIYA

The MSBY Black Jackals' training facility was quieter than usual, the usual squeaks of shoes on polished floors and the thunderous impacts of spikes replaced by a lazy afternoon lull. Most of the team had already left for the day, their energy spent on grueling drills and practice matches. The air still held a faint scent of sweat, mingled with the sharp tang of air salonpas.

You had been waiting for what felt like hours, alternating between watching Atsumu's extra practice through the gym windows of the lounge area and idly scrolling through your phone. It was a familiar routine - Atsumu pushing himself just a little further, always chasing that perfect set, while you patiently waited, a silent pillar of support. The sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows across the lounge area where you sat, when you finally heard the telltale sound of the gym doors opening and Atsumu's distinctive footsteps approaching.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"Oi, still hanging around?" he called out, a smirk playing on his lips.

You looked up, matching his smirk. "Someone's gotta make sure you don't overwork yourself, the Pro Athlete."

Walking behind you to give you a shoulder massage for a few seconds and kiss you on the mouth from behind, he stopped by to sit on the sofa in the lounge next to you to cuddle slightly.

Atsumu plopped down next to you, peering at your phone. "Whatcha looking at? Better not be Tobio-kun's serves again."

You snorted. "As if. No, look at this trend."

You showed him the picture of the couple doing the possessive choking pose. Atsumu's eyebrows shot up.

"Well, ain't that something," he drawled. "People really do anything for likes these days, huh?"

"Says the guy who spent an hour perfecting his hair for his official team photo," you retorted.

Atsumu clutched his chest in mock hurt. "Your wounds cut deep, ya know that?"

You laughed, then had an idea. "Hey, we should try it."

"Try what? You wanna make out here, huh?" Atsumu looked skeptical but was ready to jump on you if you nodded, which you didn’t.

"The pose, dummy. Could be funny."

Atsumu's eyes glinted with mischief. "Oh? You want me to manhandle you for the 'gram? Kinky."

You felt your face heat up as you gently push his head of your shoulder to face him. "Shut up, 'Tsumu. You in or not?"

"'Course I'm in. Can't let my baby down, can I?"

You both stood up, moving to a clear wall. Atsumu positioned himself behind you, his flexed arm tight around your neck.

"Ready when you are, darlin'," he murmured close to your ear.

You suppressed a shiver. "Okay, press."

Atsumu's arm pressed your cheeks and flexed his muscles. You snapped the picture quickly before you could faint from blushing.

Looking at it together, you couldn't help but laugh. "We look ridiculous."

"Speak for yerself," Atsumu retorted. "I look dashingly hot."

You elbowed him playfully. "Your ego is showing, 'Tsumu."

He grinned, pulling you closer. "Ya love it though."

As you leaned into him, he carried you like a princess to the lounge sofa: he had locked the door…

pic :

Ⓡ kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[metranart]

“I must admit you picked a pretty one, real pretty girl—” Dabi's grin only grew as Hawks’s scowl deepened. “—Let me know more about your new pet, Keigo. I usually can’t shut you up,” he smirked, reaping some humor from the nasty situation. 

ft. Hawks centered, Hawks x reader, Slight! Bakugo x reader, Slight! Dabi x reader (in future chaps)

Hawks x UA Student! Reader (Part 12)

-

Warning tag: obsessed! Hawks, possessive! Hawks, naive! student reader, violation of trust, dubious consent, mating cycles, rut response, obsessive behavior, uncontrollable thirst for reader, manipulation, forced, thigh riding, hormonal minds out of control, sexual content, first time, cock riding, teenage fuck, Dabi's toxically interested in you, Bakugo bestie yet secretly inlove wit you, love confessions, cock-drunk, Hawks trying to be good but failing miserably, gaslighting, HEAVY plot, lots of smut.

-

“She doesn’t seem particularly special,” The leader of the League of Villains had hissed. Red, bloodshot eyes set on the wicked set of photos provided by Dabi, even though he wanted to look particularly uninterested in the material, he couldn’t stop flipping through each photo over, and over again. 

“Don´t tell me,” Mr. Compress peeked from behind Shigaraki’s shoulder to have a glimpse at the material, “—does Hawks have some kind of fucked-up crush on her?”

Dabi merely smirked, shrugging his shoulders. “Don´t know, don´t care.” 

Dabi was Hawks’ contact with the league, since he had introduced him to the group with some ‘I wanna change sides bullshit’, -which no one really believed. 

Since that day, the fire-bender used to tail the winged hero to keep an eye on him, what was his surprise when he found him raping you in a dark alley, after no less than having saved you of a Nomu, earlier that same day.  

His cellphone wasn’t the best but the photos he took were quality, clear and concise. 

Dabi didn’t even have to worry about being found out since Hawks was so smitten by you— Dabi could have been sitting on a garbage can across, and he wouldn’t have noticed.

So, he printed a few copies of this magnificent evidence against the prominent hero and went down to business. 

Shigaraki finally finished browsing the pictures, to glance up at him. 

“If you don’t care—why are you showing us these?” he fanned the photos on his hand. “Do you get off like this, you, sick staple-face?” The silver-haired leader wondered, knowing that Dabi’s actions always had a second agenda.

“What I get off with isn’t your business, crusty. But I thought it would be proof enough to trust the heroic birdie’s change of sides.” He shared, calmly. Uncrossing his arms from his chest to fish his hands inside his pockets, lazily leaning against the nearest wall.  

That had caught Shigaraki’s attention. 

“It could have been consensual….” The silver-haired suggested, holding in his hand a photo where Hawks was devouring your mouth while nailing you against the cold concrete of the wall – your little hands grabbing at his shoulders for sweet support while his held you up by the hips, way too greedily, you looked cock-drunk. 

Turning it around, showed it to the rest for a more unanimous opinion.

“She’s so pretty, like a cute little doll~” Toga shared dreamily, slowly leaning closer to snatch the photo from Shigaraki who effortlessly dodged her.

“Oh! That’s not correct, they are in public, how naughty! I can’t see…” Twice looked away to immediately spin around and look back to the photo, “if they did it like that, it’s because they like to be seen… Hawks is such a dog…” his other personality kicked in, starting a hilarious fight which, everyone ignored, except for toga who constantly giggled.

“The girl looks way too naïve to be doing that consensually,” Spinner judged without giving the photo a second look, his sense of justice feeling sickened by the fake winged hero’s actions.  

“-And on top of that, she looks way too young…. probably closer to Toga’s age, don’tcha agree?” Mr. Compress stated, fascinated by the lewd images.

They could probably sell them and aside from making some good money, they would dismantle the reputation of Hawks, Mr. Number Two Hero in the country. But why would they want to do that to a possible fellow villain?  

He couldn’t help but be… intrigued.

“I say we let him into the league, this…” Mr. Compress tapped at the photo with his finger, “is a despicable act of rampant carnality against a minor, and consensual or not, it’s still a crime.” 

Dabi agreed by nodding his head once. 

“Looks like it~” Toga agreed as well and soon Twice did too. “That little birdy is a bad birdy.”

Spinner grunted an affirmation, and Shigaraki sighed annoyed before announcing. “We’ll give him a chance, now he can join our meetings and some plans…. But he’s not part of the League yet, he’s on trial.”

Everyone agreed, and Shigaraki glanced at warp user who calmly approached. 

“Kurogiri, do me a favor and inform Hawks of our decision— and personally deliver these to him,” he handed over the photos and before releasing them, said, “Tell him it’s our warm welcome gift to the League of Villains.”

Kurogiri nodded, to then disappear in the back. 

Shigaraki scratched at his neck staring at Dabi. “You are still his contact, charred face. As your oldest acquaintance as you presented him…. -If ends up betraying us, you alone must kill him.”

Dabi entertained Shigaraki’s lofty order with sadistic patience before untroubled replied a short. 

“Noted.”

-

Meanwhile, Hawks was a mess, a beating uncomfortable mess. 

Slowly his wounds were healing, even though the encounter with Dabi had been a couple of days ago. Although he still paraded with a broken lip, traces of burns on his clavicle, torso and arms. His hero suit far from salvable, all scorched and stained with dried cum, —even part of his eyebrow had turned to ashes, not to mention, how affected his wings were, he was barely able to fly.

The blond sighed, tiredly.

Having to sneak through the window of his own agency so as not to arouse suspicion among his subordinates was beginning to bother him...... —he shouldn't have gotten carried away, he knew Dabi only wanted to annoy him, enflame his blood just out of sadistic entertainment.... Yet, he was stupid enough to allow him. 

In the last couple of days, instead of patrolling he had been sitting in his office, wasting precious time just analyzing every little detail of what had transpired between you and him…. how his rut ​​had gotten out of control thanks to your quirk. 

Whatever your fucking quirk was had a ridiculous effect on his instinctual responsiveness. Everything had felt good—fucking amazing, mind-blowing, life-changing—though right now, sober and away from your numbing effect, Keigo couldn’t decide if was just your quirk deluding him into thinking your pussy was the best he’d ever had, or if it really was. 

NO! Deep inside he knew it, YOU really were just that fucking incredible. 

His instincts didn’t lie. Actually, it was taking him a monumental effort not to fly to the UA dorms and snatch you away, back to him, safe by his side. 

It’s only been three days away from you and he was already feeling hopeless. Hawk’s mind wandered back to you... and to that stupid ‘welcome gift’. 

Once again, the League of Villains gift greeted him from his desk, without a doubt, this little bastard had been the catalyst for the fight with the fire-user.

Those damn photos that laid scattered all over, screaming his crude crime at him. Mocking and equally enticing for someone as warm-blooded as Hawks. Those damn photos were grotesque, heartbreakingly brutal to his psyche, raw evidence of his brutal attack against you… he hated them— but hated even more how much he had already used them to jack himself off. 

Normally, he would have managed to tame his libido with practiced control—just his imagination to enjoy the ride. But shit it was not fucking working. 

So, just to gauge the obvious upper hand the League of Villains held on him, he thought of scrutinize the photos. He needed to analyze the evidence, yet each printed scene was brought back to life in his mind…

Your pussy gripping him so gloriously, calling him home— that tight, lovely look on your face as you buried yourself onto his lap, taking him fully in one go was fucking thrilling. 

His breath shuddered, as his patience thinned in a matter of seconds. Not even taking himself out, started to stroke himself hard and fast, nose pressed into the poor remaining of his old hero jacket, he breathed in what still lingered of your sweet scent between the fibers.

“Baby bird~” He called brokenly. “Y/N…” His eyes closed at the thought of you. 

You were so smart and funny; it skyrocketed his excitement. The thrill of having another duel of wittiness almost made him cum on the spot. 

Not to mention how well you were fit together, those perfect tits he loved to see bouncing while he breed you… your perfect ass, which look much nicer with his handprint swelling onto the skin, and your pussy—fuck, he could almost replay how tight it felt around him, how viciously grip him and milk every last fucking drop of his cum straight into your fertile womb—making him wonder perhaps, he was already a dad. 

He wouldn’t mind, the commission will deal with the public eye, as he dealt with you and his chicks. 

The mere vision of you all swelled and round with his baby ended up doing it for him. He came, hard! in thick, hot spurts, all over the photos…. ropey, white streaks now decorating each single piece of evidence. 

“Fuck,” he panted, chest heaving, limbs trembling. If he hadn’t been sitting down, his quivering knees would have failed him.  

Never has he ever spilled himself so wonderfully just by his own hand. You had him really stupefied, he idolized you, now you were his everything.

Goddamn it, he thought glaring at the stained pictures of him fucking into you. I have to add hypocrite to the list... that thought came almost automatically. He had almost maimed Dabi days ago for doing the same thing he had just done.

-

After receiving the envelope with photos, Kurogiri had disappeared into the blackness of the night leaving behind a frantic, inflamed and choleric, Takami Keigo.  

He had scanned quickly all the photos, and there was one—a close-up of your pretty face, flushed and sweaty, eyes close tight while you resisted his energetic thrusts: it was splotchy. A crusty, off-whitey stain splattered across your face in the picture.  

It felt like a blunt punch to his gut. His vision went red when at the tact, he recognized how cum looks like when it dries out.  

This was definitely Dabi´s reckless and mocking, signature.

His wings spread bristly and sharp, buzzing with anger, in a calculated jump leaped off the ground and pulled out his cellphone sending a text message.

Hawks.-

We need to talk.

Typing...

Touya.-

Sure, bucket of chicken, see you at the usual spot.

Hawks's eyes gleamed with cold rage as he sped up toward the meeting place.

“Endeavor saved the day again, with the help of hero Hawks, they rescued a student who was caught in the crossfire of a Nomu attack—” the reporter informed, while recorded scenes of the incident were played on the back. 

Dabi rested his elbows lazily on his knees as he waited for the birdman to show. He must be livid. Dabi thought, amused. His gaze analyzed the footage on the TV. Blue eyes watched Endeavor’s flames burn like a thousand suns, so intense and so irresponsible that if it weren’t for the bucket of chicken, you would have been charred— and that was, when he spotted it.

His bright blue eyes widening at the odd discovery. Rewinding it, he watched it again, and again, and again. The villain recorded every appearance of his father on the TV, to analyze it thoughtfully and so one day fry him to death, properly. 

It was a noticeable and severe, injury.

Endeavor's flames had licked at Hawks’ arm and part of his wing. Nevertheless, in the surveillance photos he had took out of a lucky strike, Hawks didn’t sport those injuries. How had he missed it?

What a peculiar oddity, the raven-haired villain thought, looking at one of the copies he kept for private usage.

The image printed on the paper was a true masterpiece. Dabi knew Hawks from way back, and the second the Hero joyfully requested to be accepted in the league of villains, claiming to the four winds that he wanted to change sides, Dabi knew he was playing the sordid spy. 

Even so, the villain played it by ear, taking advantage of what he could and discarding what was plain garbage. 

These photos, well, this were pure gold.... Hawks finally looked like the villain he pretended to be. Fucking the brains out of the poor student –whom he saved from death earlier– plunging inside your pristine pussy with ferality he had only witnessed when the blond was in heat, all of this at the commodities of some dirty alley. Your pretty face pressed against hard concrete while he carved the shape of his heroic cock deep inside you, more than ten photos supported this indecent act of Hero number two, a whole variety of sexual positions, a real feast to the eyes…. Not even Dabi himself could have done it better.  

The oldest Todoroki chuckled. Wicked gaze set on your pretty face…. What is your quirk? He wondered, obnoxiously intrigued by you.

You were like a mouse in the hawk's claws, squeaking and scurrying about ever so cutely. You had achieved what he never did, make Hawks reveal his darker side in plain light... Bravo! you deserved a standing ovation. Dabi was definitely hooked.

His fat and awfully hard cock pressed against his stomach was proof enough of how much he liked those photos, maybe he could give himself some relief before Keigo arrived, all bristle and aggressive. Dabi wished to welcome his oldest acquaintance, jacking himself off, looking at your pretty face contorted in pain and bliss. 

The smallest of smirks twisted his scarred lips when the wave of air from Hawks harsh landing, blown the skirts of his trench coat. Buh, too late…. 

“Hello there, birdy boy,” Picking the set of photos, stuffed them inside his trench coat and twirled around to meet him. “Tell me, how do you feel after getting your rocks off? —Let me be the first to tell ya, you are glowing.”

Dabi teased, proficiently. He could tell, behind those stormy, golden eyes of his, there were questions brewing. 

“—Who the fuck do you think you are, Dabi?!”

“What did I do?” the villain feigned mocking innocence, looking amusedly offended.

Hawks ignored the vile that dropped down his spine at hearing him replying so unabashedly.

“Do you have people tailing me?!” The blond growled low in his throat, “without a fucking doubt this Nomu attack was your thing-”

“Nah, nah, nah, birdy boy.” He shook his head, playfully. “That has Shigaraki’s signature all over it—don´t blame it on yours truly,” he said it like that on purpose, knowing it will unbalance him and... it did.

Dabi spared a glance his way, with that crazy look on his face he always gave when felt overly amused by a situation and continued explaining. “Dust-face wanted to test his new creation against number one hero... It turned out to be great disappointment.”

“—I bet not as disappointing as your father in you.” Keigo couldn’t stop the snarl that fell from his chest accompanying a wicked twitch on his lip. The blond was blazing with toxic anger, and Dabi entertained his punch under the belt with sadistic silence.

“After fucking a pretty student against her will in some dirty alley, one would think you'll in a better mood.” He grinned his most wicked grin. That comment had irked him. 

Takami Keigo was the only other being alive who knew about his sordid secret past, of course, that sensitive topic would eventually backfire at his face! After all, they used to tousle among the sheets during Hawks’s heats, and those kinds of topics were like their pillow talk. 

If they were a Heroic team, their name would be ‘The Daddy issues duo’. 

Dabi stared at him fully, and there was so much sadism or wickedness in what he said next, that it made his words all the more antagonizing.

“I must admit you picked a pretty one, real pretty girl—” his grin only grew as Hawks’s scowl deepened. “—Let me know more about this little cunt, Keigo. I usually can’t shut you up,” he smirked, reaping some humor from the situation. 

“Go on, I’m intrigued to know how firm her tits were, the tightness of her pussy—was she a virgin? -…” Hawks felt exasperated, almost at the verge of a fit, “... but what am I saying, of course she was! You damn criminal—”

His next words caught in his throat as Hawks rushed to him, in a vicious attack. Even been waiting for it, Dabi had trouble dodging it, his damn feathers were devilishly sharp against his staples.

A feral fight broke out, giant blue flames licked the walls of the abandoned building, thankfully the roof was already destroyed beforehand, otherwise it would have exploded, thus drawing the attention of some unwanted Hero who was patrolling around. 

Hawks viciously attacked him with precise movements, gliding around him and sneaking up to slash his chest with the long feather he was using as a sword. Dabi's agility was nothing to laugh at, anyone else would be cut in half but he only had a scratch, and the mourn of his favorite white shirt.

“You owe me a new shirt, birdbrains—”

The flame-user extended a glowing palm in preparation to attack, and Hawks fell directly into his trap, he dodged, anyway his other palm was already smoking and without preamble the raven-haired fired a puff of blazing blue flames which licked the crimson wings of the hero forcing him to take flight and stay away from him.

From up high, Keigo read the intentions in Dabi’s daring stance, as he calculated the risk of keep on teaching him a lesson. 

“You can’t just keep burning everything around you, Todoroki-” he said up high in the sky, emphasizing his last name since he knew, he hated it. Calculations had been made. 

The blond had decided he wanted to see the villain on his knees and begging for his unreachable forgiveness.

“Says who?” The white-hot glare in his turquoise eyes was as bright as the one on his palm, which smoldered into the bursting blue of flames as it lit up his fingers. “Says you? You stupid overly-sensitive pigeon—” he smirked a snort, looking up at him from the ground. Exposed chest heaving, and palms shining with dancing flames.

“Come down here with me, scared dove. I’m going to roast you! and then I’m going to find that girl, and I’m going to fuck her RAW—” Dabi spread his arms out, theatrically. The stare on his eyes more vicious from the high angle of Hawks. “I think I’ll debut her sweet, virgin asshole, it must be SO tight and warm… by the way, did you like my gift?” 

The banter in his voice made Hawks hiss a low and dangerous curse, and when he peeked down at Touya’s hot glare, those pulsing eyes shone with something beyond just mockery, something akin lust... it was, pure hunger.  

“I had forgotten to thank you Keigo,” He tilted his head tauntingly, in false courtesy. “I didn't even remember when the last time I had rub one out like that—fucking mess I did… next time, I’ll cum in her REAL face.” 

Takami Keigo just saw red, his brain snapped, instincts overcame him. He knew had to be cautious, the black-haired villain was up to something, relentlessly taunting him… nevertheless, his body attacked, unable to control himself. 

“You’re NOT allowed to mention her!” Keigo swooped towards him, “—you’re a piece of shit that doesn’t deserve to even breathe the same air as her!” 

The Hero wheeled around him slicing his trench coat through the back. The black leather fabric hugging his torso slipped to one side, and the photos safely kept in his inner pocket fell to the filthy ground. Hawks's fierce gaze landed on the pictures, and that scarce moment of hesitation was more than enough for Dabi.

Dabi’s flames spread across his wings like fire on dry leaves, the hero fell to the ground, spinning around to put them out and before he could adopt a defensive stance again… Dabi was on top of him. Beautiful cerulean flames licking at his fingers, as a wicked smile stretched across that stapled face.  

“—Oops! looks like I burned your precious wings,” The manic grin on his face had only made Keigo remember his number one rule: never underestimate Dabi. 

The blond just stared up at him, doing his best to stay compose.

“You don’t seem worried…” the villain accused, “I´ve been meaning to mention this: I can't see the wounds that my piece-of-shit father left you yesterday…” the sole of his boot pressed into Hawk’s chest to moved it from side to side while pretending to check, “that’s odd—you ought to solve this riddle for me, birdbrains.”

He stomped on his charred arm making him wince, and leant down to whisper, teasingly. “Do it, and I might even reward you,” he grinned too pleased, “-by letting you suck me off, as you love to.”  

Hawks grunted low, though it wasn’t the timber he had used before, it was different. Genuine displeasure leaked into his voice. “I don’t do that on purpose—”

“Yes, you, fucking do!” Dabi stressed, squatting down over his chest, hovering over the injured Hero. Fingers tensed as flames licked their tips. “Don't know if you heard blondie, but when you are in heat, it´s like if you were made to be fucked and breed by yours truly.”  The broad smirk that shifted his metallic staples made Keigo shift uncomfortably.  

Dabi was actually frustrating him. Hawks just wanted to erase that sly smile from his lips, too sly and self-indulgent, almost as if.... Oh!

To Dabi’s surprise, Hawks started to giggle- it seemed genuine. A real laugh. The blond couldn’t help it. His hunch was awfully hilarious.  

“Is that it, Dabi... really?” he asked, scoffing. A lonely brow raised on the fire-bender’s face, holding something close to bewilderment. “Are you really that jealous that now I have a mate, and I´ll no longer need you to help me with my ruts?” he kept on giggling, openly ignoring Dabi’s deadpanned frown “—how lame…” 

Dabi mumbled something intelligible to then snort and shrug, flatly. Shaking his head while straightening up, and not even a second apart, the kicks began. Each time harder to make sure he hurt the blond, his face never losing the same mask of boredom and indifference he was known for.  

“Don’t flatter yourself, hero imitation, you’re just a cumdump to me…” he informed, almost bored. “A flesh-light, if you prefer. It amuses me to see you squirm like a whore under my touch—"

Dabi wrinkled his nose, and Hawks chuckled, a teasing, annoying sound that only served to make Dabi hiss. 

“Nah, Touya’s jealous of a little schoolgirl,” the blond boasted, “…c’me here, and I’ll even gift you a kiss, so you can stop crying—” 

The blond taunted him sporting a broken lip, blows adorned his jaw, singed wings, and dirty and emaciated suit... Yet, his smile was devastatingly bewitching as he held out his arms, inviting the villain to take the space in between them. 

Dabi snarled, straddling his body once again and delivering withering blows. 

“—I’ll burn that fucking smirk of your ridiculous face, shitty hero.”  

No doubt Hawks knew how to rattle the Todoroki, not many had the ability to make his blood boil.  Hawks covered from the strikes with his forearms, and in a twist, he swiped his leg making Dabi stumble upon himself.

“Don't go around falling for me, Touya-” Keigo shared in all sarcasm and giggles only to receive a square punch in the face. 

Dabi sighed, fed off. “Not everyone is in love with you, you self-centered idiot.” He spat, grabbing Hawk’s jaw inside his fist. “That's why I hate heroes, they fall in love with their own legend—” the flame-user tightened his hand around his jaw and without letting go, hauled him up to face him.

“I'm intrigued, not jealous, you narcissistic jerk... there's a huge, gigantic difference …” Dabi sounded threatening and Keigo’s mouth shaped in the form of an ‘o’ as if realizing the true colors behind Touya’s actions, and just when he thought he had him figured out— his lips slammed against his in a coppery flavored kiss.  

COMING SOON PART 12....

➡️ ARTWORK OF THIS STORY

@wtvbabes @dreamlessnight @naomi1247e @alicecil87 @geniejunn @justanerd1 @bakugosgirl01 @toxicxmindsposts

[annebaby]

the bachelorette

hello everyone! i decided to go ahead and post this. there will be a part two, not entirely sure when that will be out!

i am so thankful for all the new followers and the amount of likes on my recent work. thank you!!!

divider from here!

warnings: cheating, questionable sexuality???, kissing, grinding

the music boomed through the speakers of the honky tonk in downtown nashville. the strobe lights danced all across the floor, tracing the dips and curves of my own body. the smell of whiskey and leather filled my nose, setting the atmosphere for a perfect, man-free night.

i was celebrating my bachelorette party this weekend. my friends only insisted that we get drunk, go dance, and dress slutty like we were 19 years old again. i had to oblige - they wouldn’t take no for an answer. they picked out my too-revealing dress, a strappy silver material that barely held me in. my hair was pinned up in a bun, loose strands brushing across the skin of my face. 

for the first time in a long time, i felt hot. i felt desirable and happy. i felt free. 

its not that my fiancé, will was bad. he was great, perfect even. he treated me well enough, made me feel pretty, and he had a pretty good sex drive. there was nothing to dislike. i put on a happy face for long enough to fool everyone, but deep down i was not happy. 

i wanted more. much more. i wanted someone who needed me like i was their only option. i wanted someone to make me feel like a princess. someone who -

“hey, Y/N! you okay?” 

i heard my friend, maddie yelling over the music for me, quickly snapping me out of my thoughts. i’m glad she did, or else i’d start ruining my own party. 

i walked over to her, joining her on the dance floor. i put my drink cup in the air, smiling proudly. i’m not sure what noise left my drunken mouth, but it was a noise full of faux joy and happiness. it was good enough to fool my friends though. a fake smile and chug of my now-empty cup was all they needed to be fooled. 

i dropped the cup on the ground, it quickly being crushed by someone’s foot in front of me. i looked up, making eye contact with a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, girl. she has to be at least 6’0. she was towering over me, slowly creeping closer into my personal space. 

“hi,” she breathed. 

i seemed to pause my movements, starting intently at the woman now in front of me. she was gorgeous. her facial features worked together in perfect harmony, her teeth as perfect as teeth could be. her skin was glowing, freckles proudly scattered across her face. 

“hey.”

that was all i could say. i was so shell-shocked, nothing crossed my mind but her. 

i hadn’t felt like this in awhile. my first time meeting will wasn’t even this exciting. i don’t really remember the first time we met, actually. 

i should probably get on that, i need to get my vows finished soon. 

“i noticed you look a little out of it. you okay?” the blonde asked, smiling. 

wow, someone actually noticed! 

“yeah, i-im fine. but thanks for noticing…” i left the sentence open-ended, hoping for her name or any sort of information about her. 

“oh, its kate,” she responded, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

“kate,” i mutter to myself. unfortunately, now was when my alcohol started to really hit. 

“kate…” i repeated. she looked at me and laughed, looking down at her feet. 

“i’m Y/N,” i responded. she looked back at my face, smiling gently.

“so listen,Y/N,  i was wondering if you’d join me out there?” she asked. i stared at her blankly, dumbfounded. 

i didn’t respond as i continued staring at her. 

“my teammates over there,” she pointed to a group of girls all on the other side of the bar. “my teammates begged me to come talk to you. you’re stunning.”

if my mouth wasn’t already open, it definitely was now. i froze for a second, truly contemplating what to do. i could innocently dance with this gorgeous girl (who has now managed to make me feel things i haven’t felt in a long time), or i could tell her why i was here and refuse to dance. 

my drunken boldness took over, my hands pushing her to the dance floor as i grinned at her. my hands wrapped loosely around the back of her neck, her hands finding my hips and pulling me closer. i swayed back forth with the music, inching closer until we were pressed against each other. 

i don’t know what it was, but she was so addicting. her touch caused burning sensations all over my body, her smile digging into my chest. it was almost painful. will never made me feel like this. he never made me feel anything but content, fine. 

i looked around for my friends, hoping they wouldn’t see this and get suspicious. they knew i didn’t like girls, right? 

did i like girls? 

i’d been wondering for awhile, assuming it could be the reason why i felt nothing for will. i never felt anything for any boy, at that matter. i liked the way girls’ smiled, i liked that we were the same, i wanted to try a girl. 

luckily, no one was to be seen as i scanned the room. i let myself be free as the bass sounded, her thigh finding its way between my legs. it caught me off guard, but sent shivers down my spine nonetheless. kate was still smiling, occasionally looking between us and watching me move on her. her lip went between her teeth every now and then. 

i had to take her home. i had to. i knew i shouldn’t ;the whole reason of this trip was to celebrate my “love” for someone else. 

i stared up at her, hoping she would ask the question so i didn’t have to. when she stayed silent, i twirled the ends of her hair in my fingers while looking around for quick scan one last time. 

not seeing any of my friends, i leaned in and pressed my lips against hers, all my thoughts of will leaving my brain. she opened her mouth into mine, her hands leaving my hips and cupping my face instead. i felt her tongue gently enter my mouth, chills engulfing my body. 

i kissed her back, loving the feeling. this is what i wanted, this is what i needed. 

she pulled away, scanning my face. i was out of breath, my mouth slightly open in shock over what i just did. 

“come home with me, please,” kate breathlessly says. 

her hands hold onto my arms, silently pleading for me to come with her. i knew nothing about her, but something felt so right. i’d be a fool to say no. my thumbs stroked the roughness of her hands, smiling and looking at them. 

“is it worth it?” i ask, slightly teasing. 

she smirked, licking her lips before saying, “i’ll make it worth it.”

[sturniozo]

Valentine’s Day

Chris Sturniolo x Reader

NOT PROOFREAD

WARNING unprotected sex, p in v, smutty smutty smut smut, I think that’s it

Masterlist

February 14. Today’s date is February 14. Valentine’s day. Chris and my’s first Valentine’s Day as a couple. Sure, we’ve spent many together just as friends with secret crushes on each other, but this time it’s real. This time we’re actually together and not just spending time together since we’re both single on this day.

I scroll through Instagram on my phone, looking at all my friends with their partners in their new posts. Heart chocolates and little candies with cute stuffed animals, or a romantic dinner date.

I bite my lip as I go back to the message Chris sent me earlier.

“Don’t plan a date for us today. I already got one planned.”

I rack my brain for what it could be. Romantic dinner? Movie? Something romantic, probably. Chris always goes all out for our dates. Even our first date ten months ago. He had laid blankets and pillows outside his house, and pointed a projector to the side of his house for us to watch movies in the dark together. He had made all our favorite snacks and ordered from our favorite take out place.

I snap out of my thoughts as another text from Chris chimes in. “Dress however you want but make sure it’s something you’ll be comfortable sitting in for a long time. I’ll come get you in an hour. Love you.”

I text a quick “love you too.” I know that by him coming to get me, he really means Matt will come get me. I giggle at the thought. Chris knows I can drive myself but he always says it’ll spoil the date if I drive myself and that he should come get me.

I decide to wear something in the holiday spirit. A pink long sleeve off the shoulder crop top, covered with red hearts, and a pair of light blue jean shorts. I slip on some pink heels and do a quick makeup look that matches my outfit.

I smile at myself in the mirror once I’m done. I flip my hair over my shoulders and stand up from my desk to head downstairs and wait for Matt to come get me. As if on queue, there’s a knock on my door. I grab my handbag and the gift I got Chris for today, and shut off the lights, heading out the door to see Chris standing there, smiling and waiting for me.

“Wow, you look amazing baby.” He says to me. I smile and blush, then kiss him on the cheek.

“This is for you, babe.” I say and hand him the gift.

“Oh, princess.” Chris smiles as he opens the box. He pulls out the necklace, a silver chain with a pendant with our initials and our anniversary, that’s been coated in my regular perfume. “This is amazing, baby.” He kisses my cheek. “Usually I’d be the one to get you jewelry though.” He laughs as he puts the necklace on.

Matt honks the horn of the car. “He’s impatient.” I laugh.

“He’s just mad that I have a girl to spend Valentine’s Day with and he doesn’t.” Chris laughs. He waves at Matt and then puts his hand around the small of my back. “Let’s not keep him waiting.” Chris says as he leads me to the car. He opens the door for me and I get in, him getting in after.

Matt mumbles something under his breath as he backs out of my driveway. Chris laughs. “What did you say?” He asks.

“How can you keep a girl when you have your brother driving you for your dates?” Matt says.

I giggle. “It’s no bother to me.”

Matt scoffs. “It’s a bother to me.”

“Can’t be much of a bother.” Chris says. “You’re still driving us around.”

“Y/n can drive, I don’t understand why I have to do this.” Matt whines

“It wouldn’t be romantic if I had Y/N drive herself.” Chris states.

“Oh, yeah and this is romantic?” Matt asks.

“It’s a lot more romantic when you don’t complain.” Chris tells Matt. Matt scoffs and Chris laughs and he puts his arm around my shoulders.

“So what do you have planned?” I ask him.

“It’s a surprise.” He whispers back to me before kissing my temple.

“Are we going somewhere?” I ask.

Chris laughs. “I’m not telling you anything.”

“We’re going back to the house.” Matt says.

“Matt, come on.” Chris says.

“She’d find out in point two seconds. We’re ten feet away from the driveway.” Matt says before we pull into the driveway.

“This is our first Valentine’s Day together, I want this to be perfect. Don’t ruin it.” Chris snaps at Matt.

“Whatever.” Matt mumbles as he gets out of the car.

Chris rolls his eyes, opening the car door on the other side that we entered in. He helps me out of the car. “You look beautiful, by the way.” He says to me.

I smile up at him and kiss his cheek. “You’re so sweet baby.” I say back. “What’s the date?”

Chris laughs. “You’ll see soon, let’s go.” He takes my hand and leads me into the house. He opens the door for me and leads me to his bedroom.

On his bed lays a giant stuffed bear, covered with multiple heart shaped boxes of chocolates. Rose petals cover the bed, along with strawberry candies and heart cut outs of red paper.

“Oh my god, Chris did you do this?” I ask.

Chris smiles. “Don’t look so surprised.” He says. “You act like I’m not capable of treating my girl right.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” I laugh and playfully hit his arm.

Chris closes the door then pulls my arm and leads me to the bed. He sits me down on the bed, him standing in-front of me. “You look so pretty today.” He mumbles.

“Did you really do all this just to fuck?” I laugh.

Chris laughs. “No, I had a movie date planned. But I’m not opposed to-“

“Movie date?” I ask.

“Yeah. A movie date. Me and you, cuddling on the bed and watching your favorite movies while I feed you chocolates.” He says as he runs his fingers through my hair.

“That’s sounds amazing.” I say. I scoot back wards on the bed and curl up next to the giant teddy bear. It’s bigger than both Chris and I combined when we cuddle. “Where are you gonna sit?” I ask, cuddling up to the bear.

“The bears not taking my place next to you.” Chris says as he climbs on the bed, nearly squishing me as he holds me close to him.

“I’m sleeping with him.” I giggle and squirm away from Chris to cuddle with the bear.

“Sleeping with him?” Chris repeats.

“Not like that!” I laugh.

“He’s not gonna be able to fuck you like I do.” Chris says as he pulls me back to him. “You’d be doing most of the work.”

I only laugh in response.

“You’d have to be on top, which I know you love, but still not all the time. You’d have to sit on his face for him to eat you out.”

“Jealous?” I laugh.

“Of him, yeah. Apparently he’s fucking my girl.”

“It’s a stuffed bear, Chris.” I laugh.

“I’d be jealous if you sat on his face.” Chris says, ignoring me. “You never sit on mine.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” I shrug.

“It won’t hurt me. Come on, I beg for it all the time.”

“I could suffocate you!”

“It’s an honorable way to die. The best way. It’s the way I want to go.” He says.

“I’m not gonna kill you by sitting on your face.” I laugh.

Chris gives me his best pouty face complete with puppy dog eyes. “Maybe not kill me now, but it’s how I want to go in the end.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Come on. When I’m 80 and on my deathbed, what better way to die then by my wife sitting on my face.”

“I’m not sitting in your face when we’re 80.”

Chris pouts again. “My girlfriend hates me.”

“You’re such a child.” I laugh. I rub my fingers through his hair. “If it means that much to you I’ll do it. But you have to be dying already with no way to recover.”

“Deal.”

“And that’s the only time I’ll do it.”

“No deal.”

I laugh. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’d sit on the bears face though.” He says with a pout as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Enough with the damn bear.” I groan and lean in to kiss his lips softly.

After a moment Chris pulls away with a smile. “You know… the movie isn’t going anywhere.” He says as he runs his hands through my hair.

“I’m not sitting on your face.” I say.

“You don’t have to. But right now, with all that talk-“

“You’re hard as a rock.” I say.

Chris laughs. “Yes, I am. And it’s your fault.”

I laugh. “My fault? You’re the one who started talking about it.”

“Yeah, and you’re the pretty girl in the sexy outfit lying on my bed covered in rose petals.”

I laugh and lean in to kiss Chris again. “I think the movie can wait then.” I tell him before pressing my lips to his.

Chris’s hands find their way to my top. He slides his hands underneath the cropped fabric and cups my breasts as we kiss. His hands massage my boobs as his lips trail down my jaw and neck. He lifts his head up and pulls my shirt over my head, throwing it on the ground.

He holds my waist to switch our positions. He hovers over me as I lay on my back on the bed. Chris trails kisses down my neck to my chest before lifting himself up and pulling his shirt over his head. He throws it on the floor like mine. I wrap my arms over his shoulders and pull him closer to me, pressing his lips to mine.

Chris pulls away, pecking my lips once more. “I want to go slow tonight, is that okay?” He asks.

I nod. “Yeah, that’s okay.” I say back. Chris smiles and presses his lips to mine again. He trails kisses down my body to my shorts. He pulls them down my legs and discards them on the floor. He presses a kiss to my clothes clit before pulling the fabric to the side.

He licks a stride up my slit, flattening his tongue over my clit. I let out a soft moan. He does the same motion over and over at an agonizingly slow pace. “Chris please!” I beg. “Just a little faster please.”

I hear Chris chuckle and he begins to quicken his pace with his tongue. His lips latch onto my clit and begin sucking softly as his tongue swirls circles around my clit. I moan out loudly, my hand tangling in his hair.

Chris enters two fingers into me, still sucking on my clit as he starts at a slow pace. He curls his fingers, hitting my soft spots and he pumps his fingers in and out of me. As I begin to feel the familiar knot form in my stomach, I pull on Chris’s hair lightly. He pulls his fingers out of me and removes his lips from my aching clit.

I whine. “Don’t stop, please.” I whisper.

Chris chuckles as he slips off his sweats and boxers. “Do you want my dick or my fingers?” He asks slyly as he positions himself to hover over me. He looks down between us as he positions himself at my entrance. He looks me in the eyes and then leans down to press a kiss to my lips as he slowly slips into me.

I gasp into the kiss. We’ve had sex so many times yet I’m still not used to the sheer size of him. Chris breaks away from the kiss once he’s slipped all the way into me, stretching me full of his cock. He buries his head into the crook of my neck as he starts pulling out and pushing in at a slow pace.

“Faster, please.” I beg in a whisper. Chris grunts in response as his hips begin to move at a faster pace. I wrap my legs around his waist as his pace gets quicker. Still slow and soft but just fast enough to make me see stars.

Chris’s grunts and pants sent shivers down to my core. “Fuck, god yes.” He whispers into my ear. I clench around him which causes him to hiss and grip my waist tightly, definitely leaving marks to be seen tomorrow morning.

Chris moves his hand to begin to rub circles around my clit. His hand gripping me tightly as his thumb grazes over my clit lightly drawing circles over me.

“Chris, Chris, Chris!” I moan out loudly, my nails drawing scratches over his back.

“Fuck, babe.” He groans in my ear. “I’m close.”

“Me too, baby.” I whisper back. My fingers go back to his hair, tugging as his thrusts get sloppier. The bind in my stomach grows and grows until I hear Chris’s sweet moan as I feel his hot cum shoot into me.

The bind in my stomach unravels and I shake from the pleasure of my orgasm. Chris whimpers softly from the feeling before he fully relaxes over me. He pulls out of me and lays back on the bed next to me, pushing the stuffed bear off the bed.

I laugh. “Are you still mad at the bear?” I ask breathlessly.

“How can I be mad? He just saw no one can fuck you like I can.”

TAGS: @sturnioloshacker @sturniolho @mayhem-72 @bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer @meg-sturniolo @sturnioloenthusiast @nickdevora @hearts4chris @carolinalikesthings @mattscokewhore @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @lily-strnlo @adeoffline

[legitalicat]

we can't be friends - (modern!Aemond Targaryen x reader)

AN: Thank you all for the votes!! I felt very inspired by we can't be friends by Ariana Grande and my brain would not let this go.

Summary: Friends to lovers, lovers to nothing. No words, no explanations. The younger brother of her best friend left behind a void.

CW: angst, happy ending though, pining, Aemond who doesn't like labels, Helaena's best friend so reader is older than him by about two years, drunken mess Aemond.

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x reader, Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers (kinda)

Word count: 2k

“Come on, Hel. It’s not like we were ever friends,” she said to her, now, best friend.

It was a lie that burned like whiskey. They had been friends, best friends, for years. It was just easier to say that to Helaena than to admit what they actually shared. It was easier to deny she had any love for him, platonic or otherwise, while she stared at him with his arm draped around another woman.

This is ridiculous, she thought to herself. It was. They had never said they were really anything. All Aemond would ever commit to was letting people draw their own conclusions. He merely provided the basis of a claim and everything else was never true or false. It simply was.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Helaena said quietly when they sat back down. This party was a low-key thing, just a group of fifteen or so people that Aegon invited over to try his new home brew.

“You don’t get it, okay,” Y/N whispered angrily. It was something nobody ever did with Helaena. The sweet, creature obsessed, silver haired girl was always a beacon of light among her friends and family, earning her the respect to not be spoken to out of anger.

“I told you not to get involved. Aegon of all people told you not to get involved,” Helaena whispered to her. “Fuck, Y/N, you’ve been my friend for damn near twenty years, you know him, you knew how he was.”

No, I didn’t, she couldn’t help but think. It was true that Aemond definitely did not ever call her his girlfriend. But he never corrected her when she referred to herself as such, or if she called him her boyfriend. They had gone on over a hundred dates in the four years they spent together, as he reminded her on their last date. Hell, they had even rescued a dog when she unofficially moved in.

That’s what really bothered her. They were friends, they were more, and now he was letting this woman talk about his apartment that Y/N made a proper home and their dog Vhagar as though Y/N had never existed.

She could hear the woman, who she thinks was named Alys, talk about Vhagar. And Aemond just let her, even though Y/N could tell by the way his jaw tightened and nostrils flared that he was tired of her.

“This dog is just so lazy, all she ever wants to do is lay on the ground,” Alys said to the people who were bothering to listen.

“No, she wants to be on the couch, you vapid cunt,” Y/N said, meaning it to be a quiet murmur and instead saying it loud enough to be heard by Aemond.

He shifted in his seat, subtly removing his hold on Alys’ shoulder. His arm was still on the couch behind her, but there was no longer a physical connection. It wasn’t intentional, but nothing except how he looked at Y/N.

“Excuse you?” Alys asked.

“She’s an old dog. She was old when Aemond and I brought her home and that was two years ago. When she isn’t playing outside or eating all she wants is to lay on the couch or in bed with her people,” Y/N said to her. Her eyes moved between Aemond’s amused expression and Alys’ shocked one.

There was a crushing weight in her chest when Aemond looked at her. It wasn’t a secret that they had been…well whatever they were. They had attended every party Aegon threw, every academic ceremony Helaena was honored at, every work party his family had forced him to attend as a couple. Everyone knew.

Until four months ago when she stopped showing up. When her things started slowly disappearing from his apartment, and he slowly disappeared from her online life. Nobody knew what happened. All anyone knew was that once they were Aemond and Y/N, an entity, now they were Aemond and Y/N, two people.

His eyes, one a brilliant violet and one a scarred, cloudy blue, raked over her face. She looked at him and she wondered if it burned him the way it burned her. She felt the dread fueled flames licking their way through her heart in a painful desperation.

“I’ll see you later, Hel,” Y/N said to her, never once tearing her eyes from Aemond as she stood up. It was only when she saw him begin to lean forward, towards her, that found the motive to look away and walk out of the house.

The days following the party was a dredge through life. Y/N couldn’t sleep, her every sleeping moment consumed by him and the life they had together. Her pain and grief was pressing down on her heart. An Aemond sized void could be felt in the smallest moments.

When she was in the shower, her fingers would brush over her shoulder in such a way she could forget he wasn’t the one washing her. She would be reading on the couch and for a moment, she swore she could smell his cologne. Her favorite Chinese restaurant was his favorite Chinese restaurant, and when she ate their food she was taken back to their fourth date.

Their fourth date. He took her to a car show, the summer heat driving them to get ice cream. When the burning afternoon chilled into a twilight sky, he took her to the best Chinese buffet around. Their talking had lasted for hours as though they forgot that they had known each other for near as long as she’s known Helaena. She was seven when she first stepped foot into the Targaryen residence, Aemond being five. It wasn’t until he was twenty that he stopped seeing her as his sister’s best friend and she became more.

It was that date that he kissed her for the first time. A kiss that melted into twenty. It shattered her universe and fixed every part of her all at once.

She swore that night she could’ve spent more time kissing him than anything else. If she had it her way, those stupid butterflies in her stomach would have never gone away. Every kiss, from the ones that brushed against her skin like a feather blowing in the wind to the ones that made her forget how to stay standing, was something she would’ve given a thousand lifetimes to keep.

It had been seven months since their dissolution when he showed up at her doorstep. It was well past midnight when his knocks echoed off of every wall and she opened the door for no other reason than to avoid her neighbors calling the cops. He reeked of Aegon’s home brews, swaying slightly with his every breath. She had never seen him look such a mess. His hair, where every long, silver strand normally laid in perfect unison, moving like a curtain in every step, had knots throughout. Both eyes teary, his cheeks splotched red.

“What is it?” she whispered to him. Aemond was never sloppy. His every moment was perfectly calculated. Such displays were sure to embarrass him whenever he lost control, but she truly believed he was too drunk.

“Come home, baby,” he said as he leaned against the door frame.

“I am home,” she told him sharply.

“No, you aren’t. You’re not in our bed with Vhagar at your feet. You’re not wrapped in my arms all night. You’re not home.” His voice held a pitiful desperation, it’s strength wavering after every word.

“Alys is. Go home to her,” she said, beginning to shut the door in his face. He put his hand on it, pushing it open so as to not break his view of her.

“Baby,” he whispered, begged.

“I made my choice, you made yours,” she reminded him.

“That’s it, then? You decide to walk away and we don’t even get to have a conversation? We’re not even friends?” The tears that had built up in his eyes slid freely down his cheeks, staining his skin.

“We can’t be friends!” she shouted at him. “You think I didn’t want to just go back? To go back to when you were my best friend’s nerdy little brother who spent more time in his room than should be allowed? To go back to before I was in love with you?”

“Then why say no?!” he shouted at her.

Only someone who didn’t know him would confuse it for anger. It was the same desperate passion that a man truly in love would hold, like when The Duke confessed his passions for Daphne in Bridgerton. His words vibrated through her body. If his kiss could fix every part of her, his pathetic pining for her could break her.

“You couldn’t even call me your girlfriend and you expect me to believe you were truly ready to marry me?” she whispered.

He stepped past the threshold of the apartment. His hands found the side of her face, cupping it gently. His hands were softer than she thought they would be the first time he touched her. He rode a motorcycle, played baseball in high school. His hands should’ve been, she thought, covered in rough calluses. But they always felt soft, holding her with the gentleness of love.

“What do I need to do?” he asked her. “Should I hire a sky writer to let the whole of the city know my heart is yours? Maybe sing a god awful cover of whatever clichéd love song is circulating on the radio and dedicate to you?”

She tried to push his hands away. At least, she told herself it was an actual try. Her hands gripped his wrists as she gave a feeble shove against his weight. Yet, he somehow held her even more firmly without ever increasing the force behind his grasp.

“Perhaps if I blind myself entirely, right here and now? Sacrifice my only good eye so that you know your face is the last beautiful thing I will ever gaze upon?”

He leaned in and allowed his lips to ghost over her own. The barely existent touch set a fire ablaze in her soul, one that was only fanned as his lips moved across her face. The pressure increasing with each touch until he reached her lips again in a bruising kiss.

Aemond’s tears slipped between their lips, the saltiness of them mingling with the bitterness of the homemade wine he had drank before coming. His left hand moved from her face to pathetically grab at her side, then her hip, trying to pull her into him. Any space between them was unacceptable as they kissed.

He pulled away only when they needed to breathe. But he never moved his hands. He never gave her the chance to back away from him.

“Marry me and I will yell from the Hightower that I am the husband of the most ethereal of women. That she is one of beauty unheard of in centuries. That she is kind enough to do in silence what most would boast about. That she is one who brings a warmth into every room she enters that is enough to melt the heart of a man like me,” he said to her.

She glanced between his eyes and lips. She had dreamt of such a moment for years. It was like he had looked into her heart and found exactly what she yearned for.

“What about Alys?” she whispered.

“A woman who works with me. She owed me a favor. Never spoke to her outside of work until about thirty minutes before that party to tell her the most basic information she needed. Haven’t spoken to her since,” he said. “The only thing that’s in our way is your disbelief I would be proud to be your husband.”

In seconds, she kissed him. She needed their existence to become one. Seven months without him. Seven months where all she wanted was the one thing she felt she would never truly have. Seven months in which she waited for his love.

His right hand finally left her face, searching for her left hand. Without hesitation, he intertwined their fingers. They couldn’t be friends, but he wouldn’t stop until he was her husband.

[t-lostinworlds]

Treasure Be Damned | Nathan Drake

》 PAIRING: movie!nathan drake x female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: childhood best friends to lovers; angst; fluff

》 SUMMARY: Nathan wished it didn't take something drastic to happen for him to finally realize what he felt for you. And no matter how much that gold was worth, you will always be his greatest treasure.

》 WARNINGS: both are orphans (mentioned), tech genius!reader, protective!nathan, switch pov halfway thru, kinda canon divergent (a.k.a. i made slight changes to some scenes from the movie), pining, jealousy jealousy, idiots in love, some angst, kidnapping, canon level violence, injuries, love confessions and a cute fluffy ending.

》 WORD COUNT: 5.4k+

A/N: hello! me again with another fic. this may seem super random but this was commissioned by the lovely @theslayerofthevampires ! thank u so so much hun <3 my first ever commission btw. trying to stick to a certain word count was actually quite interesting to me alskalsk but this was fun to write and i hope i did it justice!

+ also i couldn't think of a better title and the summary is kinda cheesy but we love cheese in this house so alksalkslaks

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

You and Nathan had been best friends for as long as you could remember.

When he punched a guy twice his size all because they made you cry on your first day at the orphanage, he quickly gained your trust and loyalty. It was reciprocated when you dumped all your lunch on a kid when they poked fun about why his brother left him.

You two had been inseparable ever since.

Nathan was protective of you, and you were protective of him.

As years passed, that protectiveness only grew tenfold. With it came the care and affection that went from strictly platonic to something warmer, sweeter.

For you, at least.

You couldn't pinpoint when it started, all you knew was that everything Nathan did for you suddenly felt special—like it was solely for you.

The change wasn't outright. It was a slow realization, when the little things he did made your heart grow warmer and beat faster all the same.

At first, you thought it was a simple crush—a silly phase, that with time, it would fade.

But no.

As months moved to years, it went from something that lingered to something you couldn't escape from.

The moment you truly figured that what you felt about him wasn't as simple as an adoration for your best friend was on your eighteenth birthday.

Nathan had spent all the money he saved from working odd—and honest, he made sure to make that known—jobs on a silver necklace.

Maybe you watched way too many romcoms, maybe it was all in your rose-tinted head, but there was an underlying romance in the way he stood behind you, so close and warm, as he put the necklace on for you.

With bated breath, you let him, trying your best not to melt over his simple touch. His fingertips brushed against your skin so delicately but felt electric in all the right ways.

You only regained your breathing when he finally stepped back. Yet he took it away a moment later when he gently tapped the charm—shaped like a compass—sitting between your collarbone, a fond smile on his lips when he said,

"So you'll always find your way back to me."

How could you not fall in love?

What a cliché.

Falling in love with your childhood best friend.

It would've been cute if it was reciprocated.

But whatever he saw you as was strictly platonic.

You were constantly reminded of how unrequited your love was with the hook-ups he brought back to the apartment.

You had agreed to be his roommate to help lessen the expenses. Even though you had only recently moved in together, you were starting to doubt if it was a good idea—for your heart's sake, anyway.

It didn't even stop there.

Because here you were once again, sporting an ache in your chest as you watched him flirt with a blonde girl at the bar.

As much as you enjoyed visiting him at work, seeing him flirt with the pretty customers regularly will always leave a bad taste in your mouth.

Jealousy.

A feeling you shouldn't be entertaining in the first place. You were just a best friend. You had no right to go all green-eyed whenever you saw him with another girl.

Nathan Drake wasn't yours.

You didn't even realize that you were too deep into your thoughts until a familiar voice brought you out of it.

"You okay?"

You blinked, looking up to see Nathan regarding you with brows furrowed in concern.

"Huh?"

"You've been glaring at that thing for a good minute now," he explained, nodding at the personalized cocktail he made for you.

He always did that whenever you stopped by, experimenting with new mixes he thought you'd enjoy solely based on how well he knew you. You give him your honest feedback in return. It was your own little game.

"Is it bad?"

"No, no, no," you said, taking a sip before smiling. "I liked it."

"Just 'like', damn. I need to step up my game," he sighed in feigned disappointment. When you didn't react as much, he added, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Nathan looked at you for a moment, lips pursed as he shook his head.

"You're such a bad liar."

"I'm not," you scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. "You just know me so well."

"I do," he hummed, grin turning proud. "I also know when something's bothering you so, what's up?"

"Girl things." You shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. You could tell it confused him, because he was never uncomfortable to talk about those topics with you. But before he could even question it, you quickly added, "I think I'm going to head home first. You didn't forget your keys, right?"

"That was one time," he grumbled, eyeing you for a moment because he obviously didn't buy your excuse. A second later, he sighed, "Yeah, I got my keys."

"Okay, See you later," you said, gathering up your things before walking towards the door.

"Let me know if you get home safe," he called out.

You only threw him a salute in response.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

It was the harsh light from the huge window in the living room that woke you up.

You must have fallen asleep on the couch in the middle of watching your comfort movie—a poor attempt at trying to distract yourself from your lovelorn predicament.

Who knew dealing with feelings could be so exhausting?

It was the smell of bacon that coaxed you out of your cocoon, though. 

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Nathan greeted as soon as you stepped into the kitchen. He threw you a warm smile over his shoulder before he continued making breakfast—shirtless, might you add. "There are painkillers beside your water in case your neck is killing you. I would've carried you back to your bed but you kick in your sleep and I've learned my lesson so…"

It did happen once.

He was trying to coax you off the couch and back into the comfort of your bed. But as he got closer, your leg having a mind of its own when you were deeply asleep, you kicked him straight in his jewels—his words, not yours.

The loud thud of him falling on the floor didn't even shake you awake, not even when he was groaning in pain. 

You couldn't even remember any of it.

"How many times do I have to apologize for you to let that go?" you chuckled, settling at your usual seat at the small dining table you had.

"Not enough," he snorted. "I still feel the phantom of the kick, you know."

"You're so dramatic." You rolled your eyes, glancing around only to catch a glimpse of that old yet familiar green trunk. It was then you noticed some of his old stuff littered around, trinkets and memorabilia he hadn't looked at in a while. Just as you were about to question him about it, you saw the excited look on his face. You narrowed your eyes, asking, "Did I miss something?"

"Quite a lot, actually," he chuckled, sauntering over to you with your breakfast for the day. Putting the full plate in front of you, Nathan leaned down and quickly kissed your forehead. "Eat. I'll tell you all about it."

You ignored the phantom of his lips on your skin.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

A treasure hunt.

Nathan dragged you into a treasure hunt.

You didn't trust this Victor Sullivan guy, but Nate seemed to be adamant about finding this gold in hopes of finding Sam too. And you trust your best friend's judgment so that made Sully a friend of your best friend, much to your dismay.

"Do I look okay?" you asked, straightening out your long, black evening gown as you emerged out of the makeshift changing room.

When you didn't hear an answer, you looked up to see Nathan staring at you with a certain look in his eyes.

Your face warmed. "What?"

"Okay?" he scoffed, shaking his head as if he was offended by the word you used. With a gentle smile, he gestured at you with both hands. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks. You don't look bad yourself," you responded with a shy smile, unable to hold his gaze for much longer. You fixed your entangled necklace, instead.

"Here, let me," he said, quickly walking over to you to straighten it out, his touch featherlight against your skin. "It's a gorgeous necklace. The guy who gave this to you has good taste."

"If good taste means licking his own ass, then, it's a bit questionable."

"Okay, gross," he playfully grimaced. "All I'm saying is that I picked the right one for you."

"You did." You smiled fondly. 

"Perfect," he hummed with a smile, his gaze slowly trailing from your necklace up to your eyes, his next words barely even a whisper. "You're perfect."

You didn't know if it was even meant for your ears but you could only stand there, staring into his brown eyes that seemed to shift from one emotion to another.

Nathan was about to say something when Sully came out of nowhere with that grumpy look on his face.

"Why are we bringing her again?" he asked as if you weren't standing in front of him.

"She's a genius with computers," Nathan said, a bite in his tone. "She's going to help us get through any security tech easy breezy."

Sully narrowed his eyes between you two before shrugging.

"Fine," he grumbled, looking you up and down before walking away. "We leave in ten minutes."

"I don't think he likes me very much," you sighed once the door shut.

"I don't think he likes anyone," Nathan said, smiling at you reassuringly. "Don't take it personally."

And you didn't. Truly.

But when you got to the auction house, it definitely felt more personal when the old man wouldn't tell you anything.

No communication. No updates. No information. Nothing.

Only when you ask Nathan directly were you able to get a grasp of what was going on or when to proceed to the next step—if he wasn't distracted.

With the countless pretty ladies dressed to the nines, you best believe he wasn't anywhere near focused.

You were angry because this was a dire situation. One wrong move could get you guys caught. You were too goddamn young for prison.

You definitely weren't bitter over something else.

"Do you always feel the need to flirt with anything that walks?" you spat when he finally reached the door you'd been trying so hard to keep open without getting caught. It took him three minutes more since he was busy chatting up some random trust fund girl.

"I wasn't—Jesus," he grunted, the door hitting him on the way as you walked past it.

You couldn't be bothered to wait anymore. You didn't look back and simply sped walk towards the power switch.

"You're upset," Nathan said once he caught up with you.

"I'm not upset," you grumbled. "I'm annoyed."

"It's the same thing."

"It's fucking not."

"Okay, geez," he conceded, pouting, "What'd I do?"

"What aren't you doing?" you asked sarcastically, harshly tapping on your phone as you tried to decode the security lock on the main switch. "Oh right, focusing on your job!"

"Christ, do you two always bicker like an old married couple?"

"Shut up!" you and Nathan barked synchronously.

Shaking your head, you calmed yourself, punching in the security code.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright? I was just trying to scope potential—"

You glared at him.

"I'm shutting up."

"Just do your thing. I want this over and done with," you grumbled, stepping aside once the circuit box finally opened.

"You're a genius," he praised with a smile, placing a quick kiss on your forehead. "Thank you."

"Whatever."

You wished you could say everything went smooth sailing from there, but when did it ever?

Everything happened so fast.

One minute you two were walking out of the control room, the next you were being chased down but huge men.

Running in heels was not fun.

And then it was a blur, someone grabbing your arm in a way that made you scream in pain to Nathan tackling the guy to the ground, landing blow after blow to his face until blood started to splatter on the suit he was wearing.

"Touch her again and I'll kill you."

You'd never seen him so angry before.

But that anger quickly disappeared when he fussed over you, hands soft against your cheeks yet the panic and worry were evident in his eyes.

It took several 'I'm fine's and a couple more reassurances that you weren't badly hurt to get him to fully calm down and help you up so you could get out of this place.

Unbeknownst to you, there were curious eyes watching everything closely with a knowing yet wicked smile on her lips.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

You thought the feeling of being outcasted was only a small blip at the auction house.

But you were so wrong.

"What happened to you?" you asked when he finally met up with you at the church in Barcelona, soaking wet from head to toe.

"Long story."

"So you brought your girlfriend with you" A girl—Chloe, you later learned—suddenly appeared.

"She's not my girlfriend," Nathan quickly corrected.

Yes, it was true.

But the way he shut it down so quickly as if the thought made him hurl made the sting harsher.

It didn't take long for you to notice how Nathan seemed to be following Chloe around a lot.

So much so that you were becoming more of an afterthought.

They were always conspiring amongst themselves. It was in their line of expertise, you supposed, and you were just the tech girl. But it wasn't like you were clueless about it. Nate has told you enough stories for you to get the gist of what was going on.

It was getting pathetic, trailing behind them like some puppy, wanting to feel included.

When Nathan argued with Sully that you were not leaving his side when it was time to split up, you could only laugh at it now.

What was the point when you were immediately alone when you got into the tunnels?

Even more as you stood by yourself at the club, watching him dance with Chloe, so close, in the guise of blending in.

Maybe if you weren't distracted you would've noticed the man sneaking up behind you. You would've been able to run before he could grab you from behind, hand over your mouth as he started dragging you backward. And maybe you were quite good at kicking someone's jewels when you hit the jackpot the first time, enabling you to escape and scream for help.

You were yelling Nathan's name, but it was the loud gunshot that caught his attention.

It was heartbreaking to think that it took you getting shot in the leg for him to fully acknowledge you.

You were overwhelmed with too many emotions that you became numb, simply letting them take you back to the safe house in silence.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he sat by your temporary bed, carefully wrapping the bandage on your thigh after he cleaned it. Thankfully, the bullet was only meant to slow you down, not kill. "I'm supposed to be looking out for you."

"It's fine," you sighed. You knew he was being sincere. He looked thoroughly distraught when he saw you drop to the ground. You knew it wasn't his fault, and you knew he was already blaming himself enough. But with the pain and bitterness—both physically and emotionally—you couldn't stop it. "You were busy. I get it."

He frowned. "What's with that tone?" 

"There's no tone," you grumbled, avoiding his gaze.

"You're annoyed."

You shook your head. "I'm not annoyed.'

"So…you're upset," he hummed, reaching for your hands. You pulled away, carefully getting comfortable on the bed.

"I'm going to sleep," you sighed, pulling the covers over you.

Nathan got the hint, standing from his seat with a sigh, "Okay, goodnight, just…call me if you need anything."

So when you woke up in the middle of the night when a sudden sting went up your leg, you quickly yet carefully got out of bed to look for him.

You wish you hadn't bothered.

The last thing you wanted to see was him and Chloe getting cozy on the balcony, a bottle of wine between them.

You figured you weren't important enough to interrupt their moment. Besides, the ache in your leg couldn't compare to the absolute pain in your heart. It only intensified when they started leaning toward each other.

So you quickly went back to bed, tainting the pillowcase with salted tears.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"Here." Nathan kneeled in front of the foot of the bed, tying your shoelaces for you. "So, I've been thinking…"

"Uh oh," you joked.

"Maybe you should sit this one out."

Your smile quickly got wiped off your face.

"What?"

Nathan glanced at the door. You followed his gaze, catching a glimpse of Chloe before she hurriedly walked away.

You pressed your lips, nodding in understanding.

"It's not what you think it is," Nathan placated.

"Sure it's not," you scoffed.

"Look, you're injured and—"

You stood up, abruptly cutting him off. You grabbed your bag, limping around the room as you gathered your stuff.

"Woah careful, your wound is still fresh," Nathan followed you around, arms out in case you stumbled. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving. That's what you wanted, right?"

"What? No!" he rushed, hands on your shoulder, stopping you. "What I meant was, you need to recover first."

"Right," you scoffed, shrugging him off before you continued packing. "Because  it's going to be dangerous and you're looking out for me, trying to protect me and all that bullshit."

"It's not bullshit!"

"You know, after all we've been through, I thought I could count on you to at least be honest with me," you said bitterly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," you pressed, harshly zipping up your bag. "If you wanted me out of the picture, you could've just said so."

Shaking his head, he argued, "That's not it."

"Maybe," you said, looking him straight in the eyes. "But fewer people, more gold to go around, right?"

That rendered him silent.

"You've known me your whole life," he started, hurt flickering in his irises. "You really think I'd do that to you?"

"I don't know anymore, Nate." You threw your hands up exasperatedly. "Because ever since you met them, I barely recognize you anymore. You've been wanting their approval so bad you're getting desperate for it. 

"And I always thought that when we get the chance to find this treasure, we'll do it together, side by side like we always do. But all I've done this whole time is be a third wheel to whatever this is." You gestured at him and the door, laughing sarcastically. "Fourth, if you include Sully."

"That's not true," he argued weakly, realization dawning on his face.

"You whisper among yourselves, nobody tells me a fucking thing, you don't even tell me anything anymore! I'm always left chasing after you because you couldn't be bothered waiting for me to catch up. Fine, I might not know everything about this treasure but it'd be nice to get filled in every once in a while instead of leaving me clueless! Hell, you're starting to forget you brought your best friend with you—"

"I didn't forget about you—"

"You didn't even notice I was getting dragged away until I was shot!"

Nathan looked away.

"All of you are always excluding me and it sucks," your voice cracked, blinking away unshed tears. "And don't think I didn't see you conspiring with Chloe last night."

He looked confused. "Last night?"

"When I came looking for my best friend for help because my leg was hurting like a bitch but I didn't want to be a cockblock so, you're welcome."

"You're not—" Nathan cleared his throat, shoulders slumping, looking at you apologetically. "Y/N…"

You shook your head, harshly wiping at your eyes, putting your jacket on. "The more it goes on, the more I think that you just brought me along because it was convenient for you. Now that I'm considered a liability, gotta leave the extra baggage right?"

"That's not fucking true!" he gritted, pulling his hair frustratedly. "You're part of this as much as I am!"

"Right. Where are we going next?"

Nathan blubbered like a fish out of water.

"That's what I thought," you scoffed, slipping your backpack on.

"Wait, dammit," he cursed when you walked past him, chasing after you into the living room. Frustrated, he called out, "All I'm asking is for you to sit this part out because you're hurt."

You stopped, slowly facing him.

"I never thought that the loneliest I'd ever feel is when I'm supporting you to chase this dream you'd been wanting ever since you were a kid," you admitted, chest tightening as you stared into his troubled brown eyes. "So, I'm not sitting this one out, Nate, I'm done." 

You shoved the cross right on his chest.

"Have fun on your honeymoon," you said, bumping his shoulder as you walked out the door.

"Y/N!"

You never looked back.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Nathan was smart in a lot of different aspects. But emotions and feelings?

Oh he was stupid as fuck.

He wished it didn't take something drastic to happen for him to accept what he truly felt for you.

Part of him was relieved because at least you weren't there when the plane fiasco happened, especially with your injury. He was appeasing his guilt by telling himself that you were safer this way.

Nathan wouldn't know what to do with himself if something worse happened to you.

But as he was decoding the postcards Sam sent—a difficult task to focus on when he couldn't stop worrying about you so much—Chloe suddenly came in with a package.

"It has your name on it."

He opened it confused, but nothing could prepare him for what was inside.

The dread and fear started to creep up his spine when he held the silver necklace he gave you.

You never took this off.

As he emptied the box in a rush, photos upon photos of you tied up and gagged, beaten and bruised with blood tainting your delicate skin, Nathan felt like his entire heart was taken from him.

'The map or her. Choose wisely.'

It came in flashes, moments where you'd been there for each other, the joy and heartbreak, success and failures—you were always there, his one constant.

Then came the moments where he dreamed about you and him, doing things best friends shouldn't be doing.

He always knew what he felt about you but he shoved it down in fear of ruining the friendship you'd built over the years. But now? Denying it seemed insignificant. Now there was a chance he wouldn't be able to tell you at all.

Nathan was losing the love of his life.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"That didn't take long," Braddock laughed sardonically, standing up from a large rock nestled on the beach somewhere in the Philippines.

"Where is she," Nathan growled, the tube map holder slung on his back.

Braddock nodded at one of her men, Nathan's heart sinking to his stomach when they dragged you in, your yelp piercing his chest when they shoved you on the sand.

Nathan instinctively tried to run for you.

"Not so fast," Braddock hummed, clicking her gun before pressing it on the back of your head. "How do I know this isn't a trick?"

"I think you already figured out I don't play games when it comes to her."

"Well, let's see," she challenged. "On your knees, Drake."

"N-Nate," you whimpered, adamantly shaking your head. Even in your state, you were still trying to protect him.

"It's okay," he reassured with a smile, hands up as he did as told.

Braddock grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you closer to where he was.

He stifled his anger. But best believe he'd already plotted so many ways to make Braddock suffer for what she did to you.

But one wrong move could cost your life.

"Hand it over."

"Untie her."

Braddock rolled her eyes but did so anyway.

"Hey, hey, look at me," Nathan whispered, your tear-filled eyes meeting his. He lifted his chin once, gaze flickering behind you. "I got you, okay? You're going to be okay."

"Enough with this sappy bullshit. Hand over the map or she dies."

Nathan slowly grabbed the map, only to throw it away as far as possible.

On cue, a huge explosion distracted Braddock enough for you to abruptly stand on your feet, hitting her under the chin with your head.

"You bitch!" she yelled, dropping the gun.

Nathan quickly pulled you aside and grabbed the weapon. With no remorse, he shot Braddock on both thighs, once more on the arm to be petty.

He'd do much worse if you weren't on borrowed time.

Nathan grabbed your hand and made a run for it.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

The silence was tense.

But Nathan was focused on taking care of you first.

He was busy enough trying not to cry whenever he'd discover a new cut and bruise on you that he couldn't even dwell on the fact that you were showering together. You were both in your underwear, but still.

It was when he had you sitting on the counter as he patched you up when you spoke.

"You didn't have to do all that for me."

"You know, it hurts me so much that you think I wouldn't take a bullet for you," he sighed, finishing up a bandage before meeting your glossy eyes. "You're more important to me than you think you are."

"No, I know it's just—" You bit your bruised lip. Nathan quickly pulled it away with his thumb, not wanting you to worsen your injury. You leaned into his touch as you continued, "You've been dreaming of this since you were a kid and I feel like I've ruined it for you."

"You didn't ruin anything."

"But you should be out there looking for the gold," you said. "Instead you're stuck here with me."

"Listen to me, if I had to choose between that gold and—" He took a breath, holding your face in both hands as he stared at you longingly. "The woman I'm hopelessly in love with then…"

Nathan breathed out with a smile, "Fuck that gold."

You stared at him in a way that made him believe that he'd done it.

He'd finally ruined your friendship to a point of no return.

That until you broke out into the sweetest, brightest smile that made his heart grow and his knees weak all the same.

"It's not as hopeless as you think it is."

Nathan felt like his heart was about to burst.

"Yeah?" He grinned, giddy and warm, gently parting your legs and stepping a little closer.

You let him into your space. But suddenly your brows furrowed, frowning. "What about you and Chloe?"

"So you were jealous."

"Nate."

"There's no me and Chloe," he reassured, gently taking your hands, kissing the insides of your wrists before placing them on his shoulders. "Maybe I got the incredibly stupid idea to make you jealous—I know, baby, I'm an idiot—but she shot that down real quick."

"But—"

"Those times you've seen me with her, all I kept talking about was you," he admitted, blushing. "I'm sure she'd grown sick of me being lovesick."

Nathan probably talked her ear out about how hopelessly in love he was with you, seeking advice on what to do because it was the one thing he couldn't go to you about.

She had been really helpful, pushing him to confess because it was better you know before it's too late, and that in this line of work, you'd never know when that would be.

If only he hadn't let his cowardness win.

"She argued with me that leaving you behind was a bad idea, and if I listened to her I—" He pressed his forehead against yours with a shaky breath. "I'm sorry."

"I know you like to take all the blame but this isn't your fault," you hummed, fingers combing the straggles of hair on the nape of his neck.

"It kind of is," he pressed, eyes watering as he thought about what he dragged you into.

He couldn't stop thinking about the pain you'd gone through all because he was being reckless. For as long as he could remember, he made a vow to himself to always keep you safe no matter what. Yet here he was, failing at that—failing you.

"I'm sorry for being such a shitty best friend this past week," he said, caressing the apples of your cheeks.

"You were pretty shitty," you teased, though he could see the way your body relaxed a little. He could tell that you appreciated hearing his apology. It must've been weighing on you since you left.

It made his heart ache.

"I was and I'm sorry," he said regretfully. "I guess I just got so caught up in this whole treasure-hunting thing that I lost sight of what's truly important to me. But still, it's no excuse. I was the one who dragged you into this, I should've been attentive enough."

You turned your head and kissed his palm, a silent way of saying it was okay. He felt like he was about to melt.

"And I'm sorry for taking so goddamn long to tell you how I feel," Nathan admitted.

"Yeah well," you hummed, smiling at him sweetly. "We're both at fault on that one,"

"Still, I'm sorry," he whispered, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. "For everything."

You nodded, a smile on your lips. "I can't say I forgive yet—"

"Understandable."

"But hey," you hummed, leaning closer. "You have plenty of time to grovel and make up for it."

Nathan chuckled, brushing his lips against yours with a whisper, "Can I start with a kiss?"

You nodded with that cute giggle of yours, one that still echoed as he finally closed the distance.

So many things filled him up at once—soft, sweet, warm. So many emotions rattling his heart as your lips molded into one—relief, passion, love.

It was gratifying, a kiss he'd been dreaming of for as long as he could remember. But, with your fingers in his hair and his hands on your waist, your warm body flushed to his with no space in between, nothing could ever compare to the real thing.

And yes, it was going to take some time to repair the cracks that were made in your relationship. But he was willing to wait and do whatever it takes to gain your full trust back.

Nathan didn't care how long or how much work it would take, as long as at the end of every day, you came back home to him—it was more than worth it.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"Kid, are you even listening to me?"

"Sorry, Sully," Nathan said unapologetically. "But whatever the wife says, goes and her plan is usually better than yours."

"I'm technically not your wife yet," you giggled, your engagement ring glinting as you continued bypassing the security cameras using your phone.

"Technically, yes," he agreed, shrugging. "But in my head, you've been my wife ever since you put that ring on."

"Always thinking ahead, huh?" You finished up the job, slipping your phone into your pocket before turning to him with a raised brow.

"Oh yeah," he hummed, pulling you closer by the waist. "And once we get married, in my head, we already have three kids."

"Three?" you choked out a laugh.

"Five?"

"Let's start with one and see where that goes."

"We should definitely practice later."

"Do I always have to remind you two that this is an open line?"

"Oh we know," Nathan hummed, kissing you with a loud smack which earned an annoyed groan. He then gestured at the door with a bow. "After you, Mrs. Drake."

"Still up for debate."

"I'd take your last name any day."

"I was thinking hyphenated."

"Not a bad shout."

"Get moving you two!"

"Sully, you're getting so close to getting your wedding invite revoked."

You laughed at that.

Nathan couldn't resist kissing you once more.

"Let's go," you giggled against his lips. "We still have treasure to find."

"I'm in no rush," he shrugged, brushing his nose against yours. He was sure his eyes were glowing with pure adoration. "Already got the best one right here."

You groaned and called him cheesy but you still kissed him anyway.

Treasure be damned, with you by his side, Nathan was the richest man alive.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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[carpkoinobori]

[†] thursday girl — giselle x reader

[𖤐] 1/1 [please be aware this is all fiction! none of this is real and idols behavior is not accurately represented.]

song(s): abbey - mitski | wife - mitski | goodbye, my danish sweetheart - mitski | circle - mitski | shame - mitski | once more to see you - mitski | thursday girl - mitski | pink in the night - mitski |

summary: you debut in SM’s newest girl group. The industry isn’t what you thought it’d be. It’ll be fine, right? or , more accurately: a girl’s guide to breaking all ten commandments.

pairing: giselle x aespa member!reader

to be honest the dynamic is more like the apple x the snake x eve

tags: angst, happy and open ending, literally just angst though, reader is raised catholic

wc: 7.3k

cw: dieting, eating disorders, religious trauma, catholic guilt, homophobia, internalized homophobia, comphet, mild implied sexual content, creepy variety show hosts and fans mentioned, the mortifying ordeal of being a girl

ex: not beta read, reader is third oldest/youngest - middle of five. reader’s stage name is Eve.

a/n: leaving this warning here. I was raised catholic. if you find negative mentions of organized religion upsetting, this one isn’t for you. NOT BETA READ ONCE AGAIN

psalm 32:1-5 Blessed is he whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man whose sin the Lord does not count against him, and in whose spirit is no deceit. When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the Lord’— and you forgave the guilt of my sin.

——————————————————————————————————— debut.

that’s what you’ve been working towards your entire life, what you hungered for, what you wanted.

since your early teen years, you’ve dreamed of debuting. You loved to perform, to sing, to dance— that’s why you were in your church’s choir group. The advent show, the way of the cross, everything— you were there.

did your parents approve of you being an idol? Absolutely not. They tried to convince you to settle down with one of the nice churchboys, the son of one of their friends. He was.. nice, okay looking. But you just didn’t like him. You dreamt of falling in love, being swept off your feet into happily ever after— but for most of your life, you had never even had a real crush! You must just not have found the right guy yet. It only counted when it was with a boy.

you auditioned for SM, and miraculously, you got in. Your days were spent training, dancing, weighing, singing, dancing, showcasing, singing, training, dancing, weighing— a cycle, really.

you met Yu Jimin and Kim Minjeong pretty early on, and you got along great with Jimin. She was catholic, and so were you! She wasn’t as dedicated as you, of course, but it was nice to have something in common.

you all didn’t get the chance to talk with Ning Yizhou a whole lot, even if she did share a dorm with minjeong. You dormed with jimin, but there was an empty bed.

that bed would be filled by one Aeri Uchinaga.

and from that day, your life would also be filled by aeri uchinaga.

The five of you were called to a meeting. You were a little worried, of course, clutching your silver cross chain and pressing the tip of it into your chest. A nervous habit.

“Hello girls,” the man began, the five of you sitting and fidgeting nervously.

“I have good news for you all. You five will be debuting as SM’s newest girl group, Aespa. Congratulations,” he smiled, and it felt like your world had just crumbled and rebuilt itself, three times over.

“We’ll begin thinking of your stage names soon, so feel free to give us some ideas. We’ll be waiting,” the man continued, and like that, the meeting ended.

you all had to celebrate, right?

The five of you met in your dorm, as minjeong didn’t want to bother the other trainee living there. You all begin thinking of stage names, and your eyes drifted to the figurine of Mary that sat on your nightstand. Jimin was thinking of using Katarina, her baptismal name, anyway! Your confirmation name could also work, but you weren’t sure.

“What if I used Mary?” You thought out loud, the other four girls turning their heads to glance at you, and the figure just behind you.

“Mary?” Jimin began. “Like, the Virgin Mary? Our Lady of Naju?” She questioned.

“Yes, I quite like the idea, don’t you?” The other girls knew you spoke a little formally, never really speaking in slang or impolitely in the slightest. It was your parents, after all. You had grown up in a secluded, small town in America, but your parents had taught you Korean, along with your own interest, reading books to perfect grammar. Sadly, that didn’t really teach you many informal words— not that your parents would allow that. You had to be a lady, of course.

“It seems a bit.. outdated, doesn’t it?” Aeri voiced, tentatively, and the other girls agreed with her. They began giving suggestions.

“What about Lily?” Jimin offered.

“Eden— no, maybe Eve?” minjeong hummed.

“Lilith!” Ning exclaimed, much to the amusement of the other girls.

“Ning, that’s similar to Lily, though, isn’t it?” Minjeong gave an amused half-smile.

“I guess so,” she sighed.

“I like Eve,” Aeri voiced, and the other girls all mostly agreed, although more name suggestions were given out, for everyone.

You debuted with the names Karina, Giselle, Eve, Winter, and Ningning.

you said a prayer every morning and every night, with the rosary that was around the figurine. A small Our Father, a Hail Mary, an Act of Contrition— no matter what, you never missed your morning and nightly prayers, no matter how small. You attended mass on Sunday, and while you usually couldn’t go in person, you’d try to listen to it in the morning, before it was time for practice, or at night, before bed— it didn’t matter how much sleep you gave up for it.

You were moved into a group dorms a bit after debut, Black Mamba being a sensational hit. You dormed with aeri, while ning and minjeong dormed together, karina having pulled the leader and oldest card to secure the single-room.

You and aeri weren’t exactly close. There was no animosity, of course, you two just never really got the chance to talk. It was definitely by chance. Not because she made your heart beat just a little faster, your steps a little more uncoordinated, your words fail. It wasn’t that. It wasn’t that at all.

you just admired the other girl. It didn’t help that you two had more than one language in common— aeri had gone to an international school, you were raised in america. You just hadn't gotten the chance to approach her, that was all.

well, the first night before the debut stage, you couldn’t sleep. You tossed and turned, finally sitting up, when—

“Can’t sleep?” aeri’s voice was low with sleep, and she was speaking in english. You felt an uncomfortable skip in your heart.

“Oh, yes, I’m just a bit restless,” you laughed, definitely not nervously. “I am, too. Just a little,” she replied, making a pinching gesture with her fingers, and a smile.

“Why?” You asked, even if it was kind of a dumb question.

aeri was silent, for a beat. At one point, you started to wonder if she was even going to respond.

“I’m just kind of.. scared,” she admitted. “We’re gonna be on display to the whole world, and who knows what’ll happen?” She chuckled, throwing her arms up just a bit. “I’m just.. worried. And.. I mean obviously, I miss home,” she added.

you looked at her, slightly, turning your head just to glance at the dark haired girl. “I know,” you murmured. “I miss home too, even if it wasn’t.. the most exciting place. I just miss it,” you continued. You were just a little afraid you were speaking too quickly in english, but aeri seemed fine. “I mean, I understand. I miss my parents,” she agreed.

you wished you could say the same. It’s not that you didn’t love your parents, but they were a little.. much. They didn’t like the fact you hadn’t found a guy yet. They’d ask you if you.. liked girls. You denied it, you didn’t! You were steadfast in your faith, dedicated, you didn’t like girls. You couldn’t.

“I miss my friends, you know. Sometimes I worry I’ll forget english,” you admitted.

“Well,” aeri gave a grin. “I’ll talk to you in english all you want if you promise to talk to me in japanese,”

you didn’t even speak japanese, but for her? you’d learn.

You smiled. “Of course,”

the two of you tried your best to sleep, after that, but it was mostly you two continuing to talk about anything and everything.

You could tell aeri was going to be one of your best friends. A reminder of home, if anything.

the debut showcase went great, the song was a hit, everything was good.

you and aeri spoke before going to sleep every night— you’d even bought a book about japanese grammar, how to read, write and speak it. You tried your best, but aeri had a nice time correcting you. It was.. nice. You always loved to learn languages, and for some reason, having someone who spoke it already help you was.. a bit comforting, in a way.

you still prayed every night, and aeri would sometimes give you a look, but she never said anything.

everything was going great.

until the hate began

Every little thing you or your group did was criticized, nitpicked, blown out of proportion— and the stress was getting to you.

you had never handled stress very well. You didn’t have a reason to. There was really nothing for you to ever stress about— other than following god, of course, but that wasn’t stressful to you. You had no reason to be stressed about something like that! You were a good person, you hadn’t ever wanted to sin.

some of the comments were about your appearance. It started to chip away at you. The company was always happy when you lost weight, so why not just a little more? It’s not like it would kill you. you were three months into an eating disorder that you called a diet.

the second you got up, you’d pray as your sustenance, head to practice, do your schedules— the other girls would order lunch, you’d ask for a salad. No dressing, of course, you didn’t like the taste. then, as you’d all get to the dorm, again, if there was even an hour of free time, you’d head to the company gym. Sometimes, when you were just in a waiting room, or you couldn’t work out— you’d pace. Anything to keep moving, you just couldn’t sit still. It was taking over your mind.

you couldn’t even eat normally. Any food given to you on a variety show, any drink, anything— mentally, you were counting. You liked to be in the negatives, you liked to skip meals, anything to be better. This was for yourself, so people couldn’t comment on you. You started to come up with even more elaborate ways to prove you were okay, to be better, you practiced more, you stayed late, you slept in the practice room, at times. You begged the vocal coaches to tell you whether or not you were actually good, and as much as they said you were, you just couldn’t believe them.

it was starting to destroy you.

“y/n?” Aeri called, as you prayed right before bed. She stood by the open room door, looking at you with a concerned expression. Why would she be concerned?

“Yes?” You answered, setting down the rosary, putting it back around the statue of Mary that watched over you so carefully. Sometimes, you wondered if you’d made her proud. Maybe if you said the suffering was in the name of god, he’d forgive you. He’d forgive you for the things you had thought and done and wanted to do. He’d forgive you. You could punish yourself, already. You could pray for him to fix you quickly, maybe you could give up eating for lent entirely—

“You.. haven’t been sleeping here, lately. We haven’t gotten.. to talk,” aeri began, sitting down next to you, looking down at you from where she had sat on your bed, right next to where you knelt.

you had completely forgotten your promise. It had just slipped your mind, you never really were awake enough for it, lately, and—

“Are you okay? You’re kind of.. pale, and you have dark circles, and-“

“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled, quickly. “It’s just.. lent,” you lied, quickly. “All catholics fast and give something up for lent, don’t worry,” you assured, waving a hand dismissively. While it was true, it didn’t call for someone to starve themselves. You were lying. That’s a sin. But it’s just a white lie, so they won’t worry, right? It’s okay, you told yourself.

“We’re worried about you,” aeri frowned, putting a hand on your shoulder, the weight making you go from a kneeling position to sitting with your legs crossed. “I’m worried about you,”

god damn aeri, and her kind personality, and her need to care for others, and she was just so good- she was such a good person, and here you were, about to ruin her, damn her to hell. You were a horrible, filthy, disgusting person. For some reason, your eyes grew hot, but you couldn’t cry. You simply stared at her, with wide eyes, like seeing god’s light, it blinded you. You wished she didn’t care about you. You wouldn’t blame her. Vaguely, you remembered the first commandment.

the first commandment. Exodus 20:1 I am the Lord your God.  You shall not have other gods beside me. You shall not make for yourself an idol or a likeness of anything in the heavens above or on the earth below or in the waters beneath the earth; you shall not bow down before them or serve them. For I, the Lord, your God, am a jealous God

“Aeri, I-” your voice cracked, and you were so determined not to cry, but you could feel your resolve breaking, because you were weak, you were weak to your vices and weak to aeri, you were so pathetic. The older girl let out a small sigh, sinking down onto the floor next to you, taking you into her arms. She was silent, for a bit, while you choked out words that were mostly incomprehensible. She ran a hand through your hair, and was a bit unsettled to feel how cold you were to the touch, but she pointedly ignored it.

“Y/n, you can’t let the words of those people get to you.. they won’t do you any good, and.. I know that’s hypocritical of me, I’m learning to ignore it too, but.. you can’t let it kill you like this,” she continued, voice soft. It made you sick how much you liked her comforting you. What would she do if she knew that you were so disgusting. You wanted aeri, you realized as you held her shirt, with some sense of finality hitting you. You didn’t want her to leave. You wanted her to hold you, and she wasn’t even aware of what you felt towards her. You were taking advantage of her. You were so disgusting.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked out, voice a little choked as you bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to cry. “I’m so sorry,” “It’s okay,” she said, a little confused on why you were apologizing, look of worry on her face. Not that you could see it. You had your head in the crook of her neck.

that’s why you were apologizing, really.

you were sorry that you loved her. You were sorry she wanted to help you. You she couldn’t fix you, no one could. you were defective, and wrong, and oh so selfish. Aeri was such a good person.

the presence of the statue on your nightstand caught your eye from the corner. You turned away. She shouldn’t have to see this.

you could feel the tears stinging at your eyes, the shame, the guilt, the hate— it was all too much. You needed to push aeri away, to get as far away from her as possible, to save what little integrity and goodness you had left—

but you didn’t.

you clutched her shirt tighter, breathed her in desperately, and let out a choked sound. You wanted to cry, but you screwed your eyes shut and bit your lip. The blood was heavy and sharp in your mouth.

You woke up the next day beyond exhausted, but in your bed and off the floor. You surmised that aeri had put you there. You held your head, and got down on your knees in front of your bed. You prayed.

“Mary, mother of God, please guide me away from sin, as you have for so many others. Help me to continue being steadfast in my faith, and to follow all commandments well. Allow me to be worthy of your son, and continue to protect me from sin. These thoughts have been given to me by the devil, as a challenge of my faith. Guide me out of temptation, and forgive my actions, in the Lord’s name, I ask for this mercy,”

you stood up. Your knees ached. Aeri was up, sitting cross legged on her bed, watching you with a concerned expression. “Why are you praying to Mary?” aeri asked, voice light but expression still a bit worried, if not a tad curious.

“Catholics pray to saints as well. Especially depending on their patronage— I mean, if I lose something, I usually pray to Saint Anthony,” you chuckled, explaining the concept.

“What’s Mary the patron Saint of?” aeri asked, softly, curiously.

“Many different things, depending on which version of her you choose to pray to. Our Lady of Lourdes is Mary, but when she appeared in Lourdes. She’s the patron saint of the sick. There’s Our Lady of Loreto, the patron Saint of pilots,”

“Which one do you have, then?”

“Our Lady of Sorrows,” you murmured, glancing towards the figure on your nightstand. The rosary was draped around her carefully. Her downcast, frowning face, her hands clasped together, the feeling of her porcelain eyes boring into your back nearly burned.

“What’s she the patron Saint of?”

“Sinners,”

the second commandment. Exodus 20:1-7 You shall not invoke the name of the Lord, your God, in vain. For the Lord will not leave unpunished anyone who invokes his name in vain.

practice that day went on for a long while. You were all practicing for next level. At one point, you took a small break, drinking water— your heart had been beating quite fast, that day, and your throat had been dry the entire practice.

during the beat change, it was nearly impossible for you to keep your eyes off aeri- or should you start calling her giselle, now? maybe it would be best to separate the two.

you shouldn’t be looking at aeri like that— but giselle was an idol. giselle was not your friend— she was someone untouchable, unattainable. It was okay to like her, to find her pretty, to want- no, no. You didn’t. You just envied her appearance, was all.

Your eyes were glued to her, the way she moved, her expression, everything, it was-

“Oh my God,” you mumbled, eyes locked onto her movements, before you heard the instructor call for you to get up and were immediately snapped out of your haze. You didn’t even remember the event before you went to sleep.

the third commandment. Exodus 20:1-11 Remember the sabbath day—keep it holy. Six days you may labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath of the Lord your God.  You shall not do any work.  For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that is in them; but on the seventh day he rested. That is why the Lord has blessed the sabbath day and made it holy.

It was Sunday. It was always a toss-up whether or not you’d have a schedule that day, and today you did not. You watched the six a.m. mass, while aeri slept a few feet away. You knelt when they knelt, stood when they stood, prayed when they prayed.

but you did not sing, no. That would wake aeri.

the girls usually used their rest days to sleep. You always woke up early. You were restless. You hated to sleep. In your dreams you’d see images of a life you could never live, of things you shouldn’t— couldn’t— do. You’d see aeri. No, not aeri— giselle. Aeri didn’t look your way on the stage, hold your gaze for a moment too long, send a wink. The company didn’t order aeri to hold you closer, smile at you more, intertwine your hands.

aeri would never look at you that way.

but giselle would.

you went to the practice room after you prayed. You rehearsed until you felt the world spin, your skin too hot- until you forgot about aeri, and giselle, and the figurine on your nightstand, and the pastor’s homilies, and the way your parents would never love you the same because of what you had done. You danced until your vision became blurry, so you couldn’t see your hands, so whatever or whoever you touched wasn’t your fault, so you couldn’t see their face. More likely, so you couldn’t see yourself, and the body you lived in. You danced until your ears rang, so you wouldn’t have to listen to the sounds, to how your members pleaded with you to stop doing this to yourself. Till you couldn’t hear the people telling you it wasn’t enough.

till you couldn’t hear yourself telling you it wasn’t enough.

till you couldn’t hear your parents words resounding in your head, the endless comments of it being unnatural, of being sent straight to the hellfire, to how it was the most hideous thing in the world.

till you didn’t hear the way fans leered after you, and your members— the stares they’d give you, as you walked, the way they’d clamber for you, so many hands reaching, reaching for you, to touch, to take. it ate you up inside, how badly you wanted to be pure. and how you knew, through it all, you never could be. they could imagine you any way, salivate, draw, take, write it in comments. They even had the confidence to say it out loud, passing comments on variety shows.

you danced till you could forget their words, their looks, what you knew so well that they thought, you danced till you thought your body would give out—

or, conversely, till the leader and main vocalist of red velvet opened the practice room door and rushed over to the the shaking body of their junior, nearly unable to breath, head in her hands and knees to her chest in the farthest corner of the room, brightly illuminated.

you wanted to assure them you were fine, but the cross chain you wore was too tight on your neck, the silver feeling like hot iron burning your throat. You swore if you looked down it would be burning into your skin, leaving a brand.

each breath felt like swallowing glass, and your eyes were unfocused, and your ears were ringing, and your body was screaming in protest of each movement, and your eyesight was blurring—

but you got up, bowed, apologized, assured them you were okay, thanked them, and left.

you had been lying a lot, lately. To your members, about how you were— to your managers, your staff, to your seniors, now. Lying was a sin. but you could excuse it, couldn’t you?

you hoped they wouldn’t mention it to your members.

the fourth commandment. Exodus 20:1-12 Honor your father and your mother, that you may have a long life in the land the Lord your God is giving you.

you rarely talked to your parents. You should call them, more. Or, more accurately, you should pick up their calls, more. Except, it was maddening. You hated talking to them. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself you didn’t, that they were your parents, and what they said was gospel, you couldn’t stand it. Their prying questions, asking how being an idol was, if you kept up with your faith, asking why the media would report on how “close” you were with your members— with Aeri. Asking why you had gotten so thin, and that you needed to gain weight. They would pick and pry at every little thing. You couldn’t stand it, you couldn’t-

the phone rang. Again. You picked up.

“Finally, you answer the phone, y/n,” the voice of your mother crackled, thousands of miles away.

“I’m sorry,” you respond, robotically, like a reflex. “I was in practice. We’re busy, since we’re preparing for a comeback,”

“You always have some excuse for us, don’t you? You can’t just talk to your parents? What a daughter, you are. We’re your parents, y/n, you should actually listen to us, more. I told you being an idol wouldn’t be good for you, and look at you now! Barely any respect for your parents, how horrible is that? I can’t believe you,” she ranted, going on and on about this and that and every failure and everything you should’ve done better.

“This is why I didn’t want you going away, I knew what it’d do to you.. we tried to fix you, but you are a sick, sick little girl,” she spat, accusingly. “You know what you did, you know what you did to this family— that I have to live with a daughter who’s-”

click.

You hung up.

her voice was so grating.

Your mother loved to spout silly little ideas, didn’t she? She was wrong. You didn’t do anything. You weren’t gay. You didn’t like girls, or a girl. They had just been confused. The reason you became an idol was because you loved to perform, not because it was your only way out— after they saw you with her. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t kiss her. You didn’t, you’d never-

the truth was that you had left your hometown because of an incident. Yes, you loved to perform, and being an idol was always on your mind. But you never thought you’d do it, how could you leave?

You soon found out what it was like to live outcasted, alone, treated like something wrong and filthy and horrible. Your parents didn’t help. So, you did what anyone would do— you ran away, off to Korea, off to the harsh idol system

because anything

anything

would be better than living with the guilt and shame, with the knowing eyes and hateful stares. anything would be better than being stuck in that suffocating smalll town, where everyone knew everyone, and all your secrets were magnified.

she had moved away, anyway. Her parents protected her. you protected yourself. You had to run.

so you did.

you had to kill that part of yourself, bury her more than six feet deep, deep enough so that the world would never find her.

You died the day your parents opened your bedroom door and found you with the daughter of a deacon, who helped at the church, who your parents had invited over for dinner, who they had been invited by for dinner. When they found you with the daughter of their friends.

they didn’t know whether to say if she corrupted you or you corrupted her.

they chose the latter, of course, they got to it first. They drove them out of town, blaming that girl for your transgressions. For your sin.

she kissed you, after all.

you just sat there and took it.

it wasn’t your fault, they said to the town. It was hers. You’re just too trusting and naïve.

if only they knew, the rest of the people. Your parents certainly did.

they forbid you from having any friends that were girls over, again.

and you understood. You knew. And you took it.

You killed that part of yourself, that day. Buried her, and tried to forget. But there’s dirt and blood on your hands and you’re still hollow. There’s nothing left of you, from before. Bright smiles and eyes, a cheery demeanor, giggling in secret with her- there’s none of that left.

You’re not a little kid anymore, a teenager with a crush, no.

You grew up. You had to.

and that little girl is dead.

dead and buried, underground.

you wished Aeri knew you when you were younger.

she would’ve loved the softer you.

the fifth commandment. Exodus 20:1-13 You shall not kill.

You know, there’s a reason priests and nuns can’t get married.

it’s because, allegedly, they’re married to god.

so, in that case, is it wrong for you, married to god since birth, by your parents— that anything, anyone other than a boy, was wrong?

you tried to understand, but you couldn’t. What was the consensus?

you knew, deep down. What you were was wrong.

and yet, you couldn’t stop. You tried. But you were weak, at heart. A sinner, with no control.

that was your downfall, you thought.

or maybe salvation.

You and Aeri were the last two in the practice room— you were near obsessive with your need to perfect choreography, and Aeri asked you for help, so— you were here. You had already released Next Level, but the practicing never stopped, obviously. You had to perfect it, make it yours, make it the best— so that’s where you were, right now.

it was late, honestly. Already dark out, and your other three members had long since left. You regretted saying yes to Aeri— you knew the choreography for next level, obviously, you knew the way Giselle moved made you feel something wrong, something dark and wanting. You tried to push it down, though— you ran through the moves together, you fixed some posturing and some other small timing issues, really, it was nothing major. You watched her run through those parts, and clenched your jaw.

you felt hot, and your hands itched to reach out and touch her. You couldn’t be making this up, could you? She was looking at you through the mirror, your flushed face barely visible from the darker corner you were sitting at. You swore you could see a smirk on Giselle’s face, for a split second, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

you hated it, hated how Giselle made you feel out of control, made you feel wanting, made that dark thing in you, shoved deep down, squirm and claw. You felt sick. You wanted her.

“I’ll be back,” you said, abruptly standing up and turning the door of the practice room, practically scrambling out. “Bathroom,” was what you supplied as reasoning, before you got out the door, rushing through the empty halls. They were weirdly eerie, at night.

you walked into the bathroom, the sound of your shoes clicking on the ground far too loud, the yellowed glow of the SM building’s bathrooms surrounding you. You gripped the sink, turning on the water and splashing some on your face. You felt dirty, and wrong. Your skin crawled in the suffocating space, the sound of running water driving you insane, the sound of your breathing almost too much. It seems you were in there for longer than you thought, though, as you stated into the mirror, lost in thought, knuckles turning white with the bruising grip you kept on the sink counter.

“Y/n?” Aeri called, opening the door.

You snapped your head to her— she was wearing just some white tanktop and sweatpants, with a black sports bra, but god.

Giselle walked over to you, with a concerned expression. “Are you okay? You’re breathing pretty hard,” she asked, walking closer, putting a hand on your hip, other hand touching your arm.

your composure snapped. You moved your hands to her face, holding it in them, looking at her with wide eyes. “Giselle, I-”

“Why are you calling me Giselle? That’s my stage name, y/n, just call me Aeri?” she said, a little confused and a little irritated. Why the hell were you calling her by her stage name?

you held her face a little tighter, taking in a sharp breath, mouth suddenly feeling dry.

“Aeri,” you murmured, voice low. You leaned in, and her eyes widened, slightly. She didn’t push you away, in fact, she met you in the middle, holding you tighter, moving her other hand to your waist, squeezing your hip, where she could feel the outline of your hipbone. You hated how much you needed her, the kiss messy and desperate, filled with an underlying sense of want and need.

“G- Aeri,” you mumbled, out of breath, panting against her mouth. You couldn’t reconcile the two, easily. Giselle was the one who was making you do this, right? Not Aeri, you didn’t like Aeri, right?

no, that wasn’t true. You liked Aeri. A lot more than you’d admit. You wanted her. You needed her. You couldn’t stop, now.

“Aeri, please-” you murmured, between kisses. They were more desperate, now, wanting, as she pushed you against the cold bathroom wall, the light flickering once. Twice. Three times.

“Yeah? What do you want?” She asked, lowly, eyes dark and pupils blown wide as she looked down at you.

“Lock the door,” you muttered, grabbing her wrist, tightly, and moving her hand upwards.

the sixth commandment. Exodus 20:1-14 You shall not commit adultery.

you and aeri never spoke about it.

but it became a thing, now.

you needed her like a drug, constantly wanting and waiting for the next time you could have her.

you and giselle shared a room, after all. you were pretty sure everyone knew. and by everyone you meant your members, of course. the public could never know, they’d ruin both your career and hers, and you couldn’t do that to her. you weren’t evil, just weak. just horrible, but not evil. you could never hurt her. you loved her, didn’t you? the way a friend doesn’t hurt a friend.

deep down, you knew. It was so much worse than that.

they couldn’t know the way you put concealer on, before practice. the way you were strangely hot and cold, terrified of her touch, but how the both of you would disappear into your room, or somewhere, together, always appearing back, more than a few minutes later, though the tension was always still there.

the way you had become a shell.

you were ashamed, really.

you felt so disgusting, all the time. here you were, dirty, filthy, robbing someone else, sullying them, damning her, all for your own selfish needs, desires, wants.

you had always wanted, too much.

giselle was your temptation and aeri was the sin, the collateral to the damage.

it’s not like she protested, either, the way giselle’s hands lingered, a beat too longer to be friendly. the way her fists would clench on those stupid variety shows, when the hosts mentioned your appearance, saying you were so pretty.

she hated how they’d look at you.

but you couldn’t see that, really.

you hated yourself, and you had stolen aeri’s sanctity.

it was giselle’s fault, though, you would think, sometimes.

but deep down, you knew the truth.

it was your doing. Your fault. You ruined everything you touched, everything you wanted would die and burn because you were a sinner. All because you couldn’t control yourself.

eve ate the apple, too, you’d think. but maybe, the snake wasn’t just the creature, no, but the whispers of lilith, beckoning her away, promising her everything she’d wanted. forbidden knowledge, godhood, becoming better— and maybe, even herself.

was biting the apple an act of naivety, of greed?

or the blind, blissful ignorance of trust? of love?

someone you loved wouldn’t damn you, would they?

but oh, you knew better. You knew.

you had stolen both of your chances of sanctity and holiness.

out of blind, ignorant, nearly all encompassing love.

it was love.

the seventh commandment. Exodus 20:1-15   You shall not steal.

The weeks went by, in this strange commitment.

you had just arrived back from yet another variety show, and Giselle was obviously annoyed at something. It was late, and everyone wanted to sleep. You made your way back to your room, the door open a crack—

giselle was changing into some sleep clothes. You didn’t really care which. the glimpse of her back, of skin, made you nearly feel ill. You shut the door, quickly, feeling like you couldn’t breathe. It made you feel sick.

you entered about a minute later, to see her scrolling on her phone, with a bored expression. You, instead, went and knelt in front of the small Mary statue you kept.

“Mary, mother of God, please hear my prayer. I’m asking you to give me the strength to-”

your breath hitched as you felt giselle put her hands on your shoulders, leaning into your back, feeling her smirk press against your neck.

“y/n,” she called, a mischievous lilt to her voice like this was a fucking game.

“y-yes?” was the reply.

Her hands moved, pressing along your collarbone.

“You know, I hate variety shows, sometimes,” she hummed, voice so unbelievably distracting. “I don’t like the way they talk about you,” she continued.

“I- I agree, I do, it’s quite-”

her blunt nails dug into your shoulder, slightly, as she pulled you back, just a bit, your back pressed to her front. Her head craned forward, to murmur into your ear. “It pisses me off,” she added.

of course, you tended to her anger. You had to, as penance.

later, when you were laying beside her, panting with tears in your eyes, saying anything that came to mind—

“I love you,” you choked out, reverently, like a prayer.

god never responded to those, usually. aeri didn’t love you back.

there’s no way god loved you. and aeri didn’t, either.

the eighth commandment Exodus 20:1-16 You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.

“Tell me not to,” you begged, clutching onto giselle like a lifeline, holding her arms. “Tell me no, tell me not to love you. I can’t, I shouldn’t, I don’t want-”

girls never hungered. They never want, like a boy.

“And what if it’s what I want!” She spat back, acidly, pushing you off. “I love you, and I don’t know why you can’t accept that! I love you, not like a friend, or coworker, or whatever else you think! I’m in love with you, why can’t you get that!?” she asked, sharply, voice far too loud.

you didn’t know how to explain that you loved her, too, that you wished you could love her. You always wanted, so badly, to like a boy, and to love him, so you could hold his hand in public, and kiss him, and introduce him to your parents and they wouldn’t say a word, to be able to love him without just that fact being controversial, to love someone without it absolutely ruining your career. Idols couldn’t date, yes, but they’d survive if they were rumored to be with a man.

god forbid it was a girl.

you couldn’t ruin her career, or yours. You couldn’t damn her more, you couldn’t ruin everything, like you always did-

“I can’t,” you cried, desperately. “I’ll ruin everything, I’ll ruin you, I’d-”

“I don’t care!” she retorted. “I don’t care! I want you, and I love you. Is it that you can’t, or you won’t? You’re just scared,” she accused, rightly so.

“I am,” you admitted, pathetically. “I’m scared.”

She scoffed, clenching her fists. She turned, sharply, turning the door handle, wiping her eyes and slamming the room’s door.

You were alone.

god abandoned you, long ago.

you don’t know why it hurt more the second time.

the ninth commandment Exodus 20:1-17 You shall not covet your neighbor’s house. You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.

it was a few days later, at night after an off day. You had been hiding in your room most of the day. Cowardly, yes, but the other members weren’t exactly thrilled with you. You couldn’t blame them. You were currently pretending to be asleep.

you heard aeri enter the room. She laid down, to sleep. The lights were off. It was dead silent. You turned.

“aeri,” you called. No response.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” you continued, after surmising she was asleep. “I love you. I really do. I’m just so, so scared. I don’t know how to let myself love you. I feel wrong. I’m sorry. I want to. I don’t know how to love you how you deserve, I don’t even know how to love myself. Im weak and pathetic, really. If you knew the real me, I think you’d hate me,” you chuckled, without humor. “As long as you’re happy, though. I’ll be okay,” you murmured, finally.

“Im not happy, actually,” she informed, suddenly, and you felt your heart leap into your throat. “I love you, y/n. I don’t care if it’ll make everything more difficult, or if you think I’ll hate you. I won’t, by the way,”

you didn’t know how to respond. aeri did it, for you.

she got up, walked over to your bed, and made you sit up.

“so can you stop being scared? I love you, and-“

you cut her off.

you clutched her face, and kissed her, desperately. You felt tears well in your eyes, and this time, they fell. You pulled back.

“aeri, I love you, I love you so much. I love you, please forgive me. I’ll try, I swear. Please, just-”

she kissed you, again. nothing was completely fixed, yet, but you both loved each other. You were still scared, of course, but aeri had seen you at your worst, already, and was still here. so maybe, it was okay.

the tenth commandment. Genesis 1:1-Revelation 22:21 Love thy neighbor as I have loved you.

The last few weeks had been.. different.

You had started eating again, or, more frequently, was a better way to put it.

it was mostly because aeri had taken up cooking, and you could never say no to her, and it was kind of nice, really, to see her happy when you told her you liked the food.

you started to ignore the comments online, not even bothering to read them most of the time. You called your parents less, if that was even possible, and started talking with aeri and your members more.

it was nice, to have friends. To have people that you knew cared about you. It was nice to know that people didn’t view you as disgusting, or filthy, or wrong.

you had a hard time viewing yourself, differently, but if someone like aeri, someone so good, could stand you, then maybe, you weren’t as bad as your parents said you were. They were wrong about a lot, you’d come to learn.

on one of your breaks, you had found another statue.

it was of Saint Maria.

you put it next to the statue of Our Lady. You thought it fit, in a way.

you didn’t attend sunday mass, or hear it. You didn’t pray much, anymore, either. but you kept the statues as a reminder, of sorts.

aespa had been doing very well, as well, and you didn’t practice late into the night, as much, anymore.

all of you were currently deciding what takeout to order, and trying to pick a move. no one could really come to a final decision, and you watched the bickering amusedly. You got up, heading to the kitchen, filling a glass with water. Aeri appeared behind you, a sly smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around your waist. “Hey, y/n,” she hummed.

“Yeah?” you replied, turning your head. she had a smirk on her face.

“I got you somethinggg,” she grinned, tilting her head, a mischievous expression on her face, her hands clasped behind her back.

“what is it?”

she handed you a gold necklace, with rose quartz in the shape of a heart at the end, a bashful expression beginning to take place at your silence. “I didn’t know if you would like it, but it reminded me of you, so-”

“It’s perfect,” you interrupted, a genuine smile on your face. “Can you put it on for me?”

aeri removed the silver cross necklace you had worn for years, and years, placing it on the counter. She clasped the new necklace, the gold sitting pleasantly on your skin.

you turned to her, holding her face before kissing her, smiling into it. You left the chain on the counter, a smile plastered near permanently your face. “It’s beautiful, aeri, thank you,”

“Of course,” she replied, with a very self-satisfied grin on her face.

“I love you,” you added, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I love you too, you sap,” she rolled her eyes, good naturedly, but still held you, too. “Come on, let’s go back— i’m not letting them watch a disney movie for the millionth time,”

“So what, you can watch Deadpool?” You teased, with a grin.

“Maybe,” she replied.

it was definitely certain, now, with the silver chain thrown in the garbage, easily.

you loved aeri uchinaga

and you hoped, prayed, even, that the rest of your life would be filled by aeri uchinaga.

A/N: hi guys… so I love aeri uchinaga btw. uhmm so basically the catholic version of the Ten Commandments the ninth commandment is separated into nine “don’t covet your neighbors wife” and ten “don’t covet your neighbors goods” but technically all Ten Commandments can be followed by following the one big rule which is “love thy neighbor as I have loved you” and basically symbolism forever eve breaks all nine commandments but follows the one big one which is like love everyone which means she never actually sinned she just thought she did because she is doomed yuri ☝️🤓

I LOVE TOXIC YURI AND DOOMED YURI FOREVERR pleek send asks+reqs btw I need ideas

[slut4sugu]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐋 𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐇 — RODIRICK HEFFLEY X FEM!BLACK READER

✰ including: intimidating but sweet reader, simp ass rodrick, mutual pining, rodrick suddenly not being as much as a usual ass to Greg (because you’re around lol) shy reader, golden retriever Rodrick fr, ✰ Summary: What it’s like crushing/ being crushed on by rodrick heffley ✰ authors note: Bro I js started thinking about how big of a crush I had on rodrick heffley sooo ima do sum random hcs for him <3

def stares at you for a good 3 minutes the first time he saw you. Your whole dark streetwear/cyberpunk/y2k aesthetic was really doing it for him

though trust and believe he was gonna act like he didn’t know his left from his right when he was talking to you, your sweet smile didn’t help much either since it made his heart race like 80mph

once he notices how friendly and sweet you are he loosens up a bit

Introduces you to what music he listens to, and almost falls for you when he sees how much you like it.

Def would be into: girls with doe eyes/ droopy eyes, girls who smell like candy, girls who wear silver rings, sleepy heads, short girls, ‘mommy’ type girls, girls who wear band tees/ graphic tees/baggy clothes

When you first came over to his house to work on a project together his parents and brother were surprised to see he brought such a pretty girl home, though at first they all thought you were apart of his band.

Rodrick saw the hearts starting to form in Greg’s eyes when he saw your smile but he shut his brother down real quick. Flipping him off when your back was turned

He hardly got any work done because all he could focus on was your pretty voice and your probably soft hands, you noticed his gaze on you but didn’t say anything as you smiled to yourself before asking if he understood anything/ if he needed help.

You let out a fit of giggles before saying, “Rodrick you don’t have to act or anything around me yknow, just be yourself.”

You thought it was almost cute how hard he tried to be cool when you asked about things he liked/ did in his spare time/etc.

One time Rodrick had left you in his room to go deal with greg ‘messing with his stuff.’ leaving his phone behind, which had lit up with a text from one of his band members “still talking to that angel you were blabbering about earlier?’ (You never mentioned this to him and pretended you didn’t see the text, though it was hard to not smile so wide and tackle Rodrick into a bear hug when he came back.)

Definitely makes notes of things you like, don’t like, what makes you annoyed, things like that.

Always tries to be the first person to compliment you hair & like your story on insta

The way rodrick’s personally switches up when he sees you is almost cartoonish, he’ll be cursing his brother out one minute before following you around like a lost puppy and asking if you need anything the next.

Damn near blushes every time you initiate any type of physical contact with him and you think it’s the cutest thing, sometimes you tease him by getting close or resting your head on his shoulder when you feel even the little bit tired. (Though you know good n well that your heart is racing too.)

Accidentally tells you that he likes you from a butt dial ( rodrick froze when he heard your sweet voice say that you felt the same.)

Back to masterlist

[fierymiasma]

❀ And You Look Fetching in Yellow ❀ // Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Summary: Hogwarts couples exchange scarves to signify their intention with each other. Unfortunately for Sebastian, MC is new to the whole magic thing.

It's been weeks since Sebastian had gifted her his scarf. And yet nothing romantic has happened between them.

How was she supposed to know that she had to give him something in return?

Part 1: You Look Better In Green

♪ Tags: Slight Dark!Sebastian, angst, sadness, manipulation, making out, heartbreak

Word Count: 5k

|| Masterlist || AO3 ||

"Did you see what the new girl was wearing?"

"Obviously, do I look like I live under a troll's bridge?  The whole school is talking about it!"

Sebastian preened, sitting a bit straighter in his seat.  He had been lounging on a bench with Ominis in the Dark Arts Tower, bored out of his mind.  About ten paces away, a gaggle of 3rd year girls were giggling and loudly whispering amongst themselves.  The student body of Hogwarts never had anything better to do then to guess who started courting who.  Sebastian had never cared much about this (often incorrect) news, having always found it dull. 

But it was looking like Hogwarts was just about to get bit more interesting.

"What was she wearing?" one of the shorter girls asked.

"She was wearing a Slytherin scarf!" another whispered conspiratiously as if it was an unspeakable secret.

There were gasps around the group.  The new Hufflepuff student?  Wearing Slytherin's green and silver scarf?  It could only mean one thing.

"Ohhhh, she's seeing from someone from Slytherin."  There was much fervent whispering.

"I bet so many hearts are crushed now.  Someone finally got to her first."

Sebastian couldn't' help but puff out his chest.  Finally, in his time as a 6th year at Hogwarts, the natural order of things were being corrected.  No longer did he have to worry seeing his Hufflepuff in ugly red and yellow. 

"Who do you reckon gave it to her?" one of the Ravenclaws bounced on the tip of her toes. 

"Well, there's not that many Slytherin boys that she associates herself with."

Sebastian grinned.  He leaned back against the wall, crossing his hands behind his head.  He was constantly next to her side whether that meant on the battlefield or at the library.  His devotion to her had most definitely discouraged any potential suitors who thought they were worthy of wasting her time.  An effortless arm thrown around her shoulder.  His coarse hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ears.  His chin resting on her much shorter head.  Now that the whole school knew that the most amazing girl in all of Hogwarts history was his, Sebastian's worries could finally-

"I heard from someone in Charms that it's Ominis."

Sebastian stilled.  What?

There were squeals of delight.

"Of course!  That makes so much sense! They look so cute together!"

Sebastian scowled.  No they didn't. 

"Awww, I'm so happy for them.  I bet he swept her off her feet!" 

"It's the eyes isn't it?  All the Gaunt kids have those gorgeous eyes."

In Sebastian's personal opinion, blue eyes were incredibly overrated.

"That makes so much sense!  They're always in the library studying together."

One of their voices took a cheekily tone.  "Studying?  Is that what the kids are calling it now a days?"

Yes, Ominis and his Hufflepuff were always studying together, only because Sebastian invited both of his best friends to his study session.

The group of girls all squealed bouncing up and down like a group of Puffskeins.  They were loud and annoying enough that Professor Hecat had opened the doors to her classroom.  With heavy scolding, the professor shooed them outside, to spread their gossip elsewhere in the castle no doubt.

Sebastian felt as though he took a troll club to the head. That was his green scarf around his Hufflepuff.  It was Sebastian's scarf that she was wearing every day.  Not Garret's.  Not Natty's. Not even Ominis's.  It was Sebastian's.  Turning to stare at his best friend, he was startled to find that Ominis was still engrossed in his book.  The other boy looked completely at ease, as if Sebastian's entire life hadn't been entirely upended.

"What," Sebastian spat through gritted teeth, "in Merlin's name, was that all about?"

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

The hero of Hogwarts laid on her back like a starfish on the grounds of the Transfiguration courtyard.  Having successfully commandeered a quiet corner of the courtyard with Natty and Poppy, she tried her best to relax between classes.  Poppy was playing with Gerald.  Natty attempted hastily to finish her astronomy homework before the next toll of the bell.  The ancient magic user scowled at the bright blue cloudless sky as if it personally had cursed her.   

She was still wearing Sebastian's scarf.  The new Hufflepuff hadn't taken it off since Sebastian had kindly (or possessively?) wrapped it around her.  His signature bergamot and oak scent was starting to fade. 

She had learned quite quickly the ins and outs of courting at Hogwarts thanks to her friends.  Coming from the muggle world, it was dizzyingly confusing all the fake rules that witches and wizards put upon themselves.  She wasn't sure if it was wizard conservatism or teenage boredom that forced the students of Hogwarts to play these stupid courting games.

Wearing another House's colors was a walking advertisement to the rest of Hogwarts that you were officially being pursued by classmate of another House.  The second that a Gryffindor was caught wearing green and silver or a Ravenclaw was caught wearing red the whole school would erupt in commotion and gossip.  

In her opinion, the student body of Hogwarts needed to go outside more.  Experience some of the real world for once. 

After all it was their coy games that put her in this whole mess.  She thought, as any rational being would, that after a whole year's worth of 'dates', alone, unsupervised, not under the watch of any adult, that something more would come of her relationship with Sebastian.  She had hoped by now she would be wrapped in his strong arms with his green scarf wrapped around the both of them, joining them together. 

She had thought wrong.  Instead, it was the still the same Sebastian.  Teasing tone, seductive one-liners, coy looks when he thought she wasn't watching.  He always held her at an arm's length, never getting too close.  Despite all of his flirty comments, he never made a verbal hint that they were anything more than friends. 

Ugh, this was all so maddening.  If she had it her way, she would march right up to Sebastian, grab him by the beautiful luscious curls of his, and kiss him silly until he finally got the message through that thick skull of his.

"Why isn't my brilliant plan working?"  She whined as she laid beneath the sky, as if hoping it would give her the answers.

"What plan?"  Natty asked, not looking up from her astronomy homework.  "Your mind has been up in the clouds all day."

She groaned, throwing her arm over her eyes to block out the sun.  "Why hasn't Sebastian made a pass at me yet.  For Merlin's sake, we went to Three Broomsticks and Sirona gave us her Valentine's Day Special.  We shared it, together.  Using one spoon, like a couple."

"Have you considered that Sebastian might think you two are actually exclusive?" Poppy interjected.  "I mean, you're wearing his scarf.  That has to count for something."

The new student groaned.  She started ripping the grass next to her in frustration.  "I don't think we're dating.  At least, I don't think Sebastian Sallow is the type to not snog his girlfriend silly when she drops obvious hints."

Poppy made a show of gagging at the thought of her friends making out.  In retaliation, the other Hufflepuff half-hearted threw some of the plucked grass in Poppy's general direction.  The strands lamely flew everywhere but their intended target.

Natty sighed, brushing the grassy debris from her astronomy chart.  "Honestly, Europe is so behind.  Back at home, things were much simpler.  Girls do not have to wait for the man to ask them to be in a relationship!  Anyone could do the asking!  All of this exchanging of clothes is so silly to me.  What if two people from the same House start dating?  Then what? This makes no sense to me."

Poppy hummed in agreement.  "Dating at Hogwarts does seem like such a headache compared to Uganda, Natty.  But," she squeezed Gerald tightly, "you can't deny how cute it is when you see the couples together wearing each other clothing.  They're so mismatched and adorable."  Poppy paused awkwardly.  "Come to think of it, I've never seen Sebastian wearing even a hint of yellow."

The air stilled.  Both Poppy and Natty turned to stare at their friend who was still in the process of pulling out all of the blades of grass in her vicinity.  It was a long awkward moment before the hero of Hogwarts realized that her two good friends were looking at her, expecting a reaction out of the wallowing girl.

"What?" She asked.

Poppy gave her a pitying look.  "You…you did give Sebastian your scarf right?"

The new student blinked owlishly, her hands stilled in their destructive action. 

Natty sighed.  "A hat?  Your tie?  Cufflinks?  Merlin's beard, even your socks would do.  Anything?"

For being a wielder of ancient magic, she sure didn't have a clue as to wizarding culture.  "Um, no?  Was I supposed to?"

Both girls groaned.  Natty shook her head, disappointed in the lack of charisma her friend had.  Poppy looked at her pitifully as if she was the runt of a Niffler litter.

"What?  We're supposed to trade scarves?  Who made up that rule?  Is that why Sebastian hasn't made a move on me?"

"YES!"  The other girls replied, getting fed up with the drama.

"No one told me about this!"

The three girls bickered back and forth, homework now entirely forgotten.  So lost in debate, they missed the Slytherin that was approaching them.

Imelda Reyes, captain of the Slytherin team, stood in front of them, interrupting the trio of girls.  "Oh good, the losers are all gathered together."  She looked rather bored as if she would rather be on the field than here.

Poppy frowned.  Gerald stuck his tongue out at the offending girl.  "Imelda, why do you keep calling your only friends at Hogwarts losers?"

Imelda ignored the remark, flipped her hair behind her shoulders.  "It keeps the fans in line.  Got to remind you lot of your place."

The Slytherin girl turned her sights onto the other Hufflepuff who was still wallowing in the grass in self-pity.  "Anyway, I came to collect on my good deed.  Some token of appreciation would be nice.  Even a thanks would do."

The Hufflepuff sighed.  She pinched her nose in frustration at the annoyance that was Imelda Reyes.  Rolling over to her side, she faced the Slytherin captain.  She propped up her chin on her hand.  Nothing that Imelda ever have to share was interesting.  "Imelda, what is it now?  Why should I be groveling at your feet for this time?"

"You should be thanking me for saving your relationship with Sallow."  Imelda nonchalantly stated.

The new girl spluttered, her chin slipping off of her hand and hitting the ground.  She made a pained noise, rubbing at the growing bruise.  "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."  Imelda inspected her glossy green nails.  "It's painful to see you two fumbling about like Quidditch little league toddlers.  I just gave a gentle nudge in the right direction."

The bottom of her stomach was in free-fall.  Imelda "helping" was never a good thing, despite what the Slytherin believed.  "Imelda, what did you do?"

Imelda grinned.  "Oh, you know, just started a rumor that Ominis was the one who gave you the scarf."

She finally sat up.  Bits of grass stick to the Hufflepuff's hair.  "Why on earth would you do that, Imelda?  The whole school is going to think that Ominis is courting me!"

"Indeed."

Natty frowned.  "I have to admit.  I do not see the game you are trying to play.  How does that help our friend?" 

Imelda rolled her eyes.  It was sometimes frustrating being the only Slytherin of their girl group.  They were so slow to stack the odds to get what they wanted.  They were so narrow-minded as they achieved their goals, seeing only a couple paths towards victory instead of the millions of possibilities Imelda always saw.

"Boys like Sallow are easy to manipulate.  Start a rumor that his best friend is seeing the love of his life, and the boy will make sure to do everything in his power to correct the record."  Imelda flicked off a speck of dirt on her otherwise well-polished nails.  "He'll come crawling back to you in a week tops."

Poppy oo'ed in approval, clapping excitedly at the new development.  Natty shot her a judging look.  Poppy dropped her "oo's" to a respectful volume.

The other Hufflepuff gaped in silence, at a loss for words.  "Sebastian's one of the smartest people I know.  He can pick up even the most difficult spells on the first try." She crossed her arms.  "He's too smart to fall for your tricks, Imelda."

Her compatriots were silent. Natty, Poppy, and Imelda ginned and looked at each other deviously.  Poppy was the first to bust out in laughter, causing the other two to join in.  The offended girl scowled behind her green scarf, annoyed.

The Hufflepuff rolled her eyes.  "You all think so low of him.  I'm telling you, Sebastian's not the type to care about this sort of petty thing.  You'll see."

"Oh, we'll see alright." Imelda sneered.  "I bet my best broomstick that your Slytherin will come crawling back to you on his knees.  Why I bet he's foaming at the mouth right now."  

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

Sebastian was practically foaming at the mouth.  He wanted to scream and pull his hair out.  Back in the sanctuary of his dorm room, he could finally take off the mask of indifference he'd been wearing all day.  Ever since he eavesdropped on the rumors surrounding the new student, they have followed him incessantly, mocking him.  It seems like all the students, all the professors, even the godforsaken portraits were talking about the 'newest couple in Hogwarts'.  How on earth that anyone could see her and Ominis actually together was beyond him. 

Speaking of Ominis, Sebastian glanced over at his friend who was sitting comfortably in his own bed, reading a book in braille.  Ominis looked serene as if he was above the petty comments of the commoners of Hogwarts.

Suspiciously aloof in Sebastian's opinion.

"How are you not bothered by all of this?" Sebastian asked.  He squinted his eyes, trying to see if he could catch Ominis in the act of trickery.

Ominis sighed, marking his place in his book before closing it with an air of finality.  He had foolishly hoped that the silly rumors going around Hogwarts wouldn't upset his best friend too much.  The students of Hogwarts were constantly talking Sebastian after all.  Gossiping about his charm around the female students, about his duels, about him getting detention for the second time that week.  Sebastian was never bothered by gossip, seeming revealing in it.

This rumor was different, it would seem.

"I'm not sure what you're on about."  Ominis tried.

Sebastian could smell something was up.  "Don't you play dumb with me.  You know exactly what I'm referring to.  The whole school thinks our new friend is seeing you.  Now, I believe that the heresy isn't true."  Sebastian's voice threatened to crack.  "Is there any reason to believe otherwise?"

The accused boy huffed, rolling his eyes.  "Merlin, Sebastian, you really live up to the infamous Slytherin jealousy."

"Don't you avoid the subject."  Sebastian said.

Ominis frowned, confused.  "Why don't you just correct the rumors?  Haven't you been courting her the whole time?"

Sebastian scowled, turning away from his friend, hiding the disappointment on his face.  He'd thought that everything was going so well.  Her secretive smiles and stolen glances whenever she thought Sebastian wasn't looking her way.  The way she stared openly and unapologetically mid-duel as his muscles strained under the force of his spells.

"No, we're just friends, Ominis." Sebastian responded stiffly.  "That's all there is too it." 

Sebastian had thought that she returned his affections, especially when she accepted his scarf, a calling card of his intentions to woo her.  He thought things were going even better when she invited him to an date to Three Broomsticks, reminiscing about their first of many troll attacks.  Sebastian thought the date had gone perfectly when he walked her like a gentleman to her dorm.

It wasn't until she bid him a cordial, kind but only friendly, goodbye that he had realized how wrong he was.  She had not returned to give Sebastian her own yellow and black scarf, a token of her acceptance towards the courting.  And Sebastian had stood in front of the wine casket that hid the Hufflepuff common room, scarfless, lamenting in what an absolute fool he had been.

Ominis's frown deepened.  "Enough of this nonsense, Sebastian.  She's interested in you.  I mean, half of the female population is.  I can hear the way you two talk to each other."

Sebastian chuckled darkly.  "If that were true, I'd be wearing a yellow scarf."

It had stung.  The blatant, but very gentle rejection that she had given him.  Sebastian wasn't raised to be a troll to woman, and Anne had taught him to be better than his peers, so he allowed himself a few days to wallow before swallowing his pride.  It was privilege enough that she would be friends with him after all that had happened in their 5th year.

He was an idiot for thinking that someone as amazing as her would want to be with someone who's done so much bad as him.

Ominis shook his head.  "I'm sorry, Sebastian, but I am convinced that something is afoot between the two of you.  As both your friend and her friend, I can say without a shadow of doubt that the feelings are mutual.  I think the time for games is finished.  You must confess your feelings towards her."

Sebastian scoffed at the ridiculous notion.  It's like Ominis wasn't even listening to him.  Sebastian had literally just finished explaining how not interested she was in him.

"Gyffindors don't have a monopoly on courage, Sebastian."  Ominis chided.  "We Slytherins are brave enough to get what we want.  We always have been."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes.  He could feel the venom on his tongue.  "Oh?  How's courting my sister working for you?"

Sebastian wasn't sure what reaction he was expecting from Ominis.  What Sebastian was for sure not expecting was for a blush to creep its way up Ominis's neck.  His best friend sat ramrod straight, as still as a statute.  Ominis was incapable of schooling his expression and looked like a child who was caught in a lie.

Sebastian's mouth dropped at Ominis's shift in demeanor.  While he had some suspicions over the nature of Ominis's outings beyond Hogwarts grounds, it was a different matter entirely to have confirmation that Ominis was attempting to woo his twin sister. 

The two boys were quiet, frozen in place.  The air in the dorms was stifling and awkward. 

Ominis cleared his dry throat, very comfortable with pretending that he was also selectively deaf.  "Well, anyways, it is my humble opinion that our friend is head over heels for you.  All you need to do is ask."

Sebastian threw up his arms.  He was going to get nowhere with this infuriating boy.  Giving up, he collapsed, face first, on his bed, defeated.

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

The Hufflepuff sighed, chewing on the end of her quill.  Sitting on one of the dusty decrepit armchairs of the Undercroft, she relished in these moments of silence.  No one, student, professor, or villager, was asking anything of her.  Instead, she could simply be alone with her thoughts.

Unfortunately, her thoughts often revolved around Sebastian.

She rested her head against her fist and blew a raspberry in frustration.  The parchment before her was riddled with crossed out phrases and giant bleeding blotches of ink where her quill had paused.  She had spent the whole afternoon trying to come up with…something to say to Sebastian.  Four hours of work only to come up with nothing.  Ugh.  Why did words have to be so hard?

Maybe everyone was right.  It would be much easier just to throw him a Hufflepuff jumper and call it a day.

Before she could finalize her thoughts, the iron gates of the Undercroft swung open.  She hastily stuffed the quill and parchment into a random pocket in her bags.  She couldn't help but fix her hair, just in case it was Sebastian.

In walked the very man who had been on her mind all day.  And Sebastian Sallow looked rather miffed.  Hands already clenched in frustrations, he walked up to her.  His eyes trailed up and down her form.

"What are you wearing?" he asked without preamble.

There was a sense of deja vu at the question.  "My school uniform?  Because…I go here?  I'm a Hogwarts student?"

Sebastian frowned.  "Where's your scarf?"

She huffed.  Really?  Out of millions of important things they had to talk about: Sebastian's behavior, Anne, their maybe date, their questionable relationship status.  Her scarf was the thing he chose to fixate on?  "It's warm outside, Sebastian.  Why on earth would I be wearing a scarf in the spring?"

He scowled, now pacing unable to contain his anxiety.  So she decided not to wear his scarf anymore.  What did this mean?  This only proved Sebastian's theory that she did reject his affections.  Ominis's words of encouragement last night only worsened Sebastian's current mood.  Ominis had no idea what he was talking about.  Maybe after all this time, she finally learned the symbolism behind the gifted scarf and was appalled at Sebastian's rather forward claim on her.  Maybe the rumors were to be believed, and she was interested in Ominis.  Maybe her and Ominis "studying at the library together" actually had no studying whatsoever.  Maybe-

His thoughts got interrupted when something rather soft smacked him square in the face.  Whatever the scratchy material was had hit in right in his open eyes.  His eyes watered, stinging at the insult.

"What in Merlin's beard?"  He ripped the offending fabric off his face.

In his hands was a warm, yellow and black striped Hufflepuff scarf.  The one that she had worn throughout the fall.  The one that always managed to hide her teasing smiles and blushes.  It smelled of their shared apple tarts and a bit singed at the edges as if one of her Confringo spells exploded a bit too close for comfort.

It smelled like her. 

He looked up to catch her gaze.  She was leaning with all her weight on one foot with her arms crossed, slightly annoyed at the silly affair.

Sebastian recovered quickly.  He couldn't stop the grin from his face.  He felt like he was back to his old self, just like how he was when the two of them first met.  "Well, well, I was waiting for you to pay me back eventually.  Nice to know that Hufflepuffs have some manners."

She huffed, tired of these games and double-speak.  "You know, if you don't want it, you can always give it back."

"Now hold on,"  Sebastian cut her off, already wrapping it possessively around his neck in intricate woven pattern so tight so she couldn't even separate it from him if he tried.  "I never said I didn't appreciate the gift."

She rolled her eyes.  Walking up to him, she picked at the scarf on instinct, fluffing it in a more comfortable manner for him.  "This is frankly so dumb." 

He hummed in delight at his Hufflepuff fussing over him.  With her so close to him now, he felt like a purring Kneazle.  "Well, as dumb as you think it is, I think I look rather fetching in yellow.  Don't you think so, sweetheart?"

She choked on her spit, hands frozen on her scarf.  She missed the safety of the green and silver scarf that allowed her to hide her expressions from the world around her.  With a scarlet face, she muttered.  "Sebastian Sallow, you know I find you attractive."

Sebastian smirked, preening under her words.

Whatever speech she had drafted now forgotten in favor of venting her frustrations out onto him.  "You should also know that you drive me absolutely bonkers.  I just can't believe we had to go through this whole song and dance.  Merlin, I've been drunk on the Amortentia that is you, Sebastian Sallow, for a whole two years now." Her hands tighten the grip that she had on hers (now Sebastian's?) yellow scarf.  "I've been in love with you ever since you first took me to Hogsmeade.  Merlin's beard, Sebastian, I've taken you as my companion to every poacher duel I can think of.  We explore the most dangerous dungeons together.  We fight off foul Acromantulas together.  And it takes a silly yellow scarf for you to finally realize my feelings for you?"

She finally looked up at him, her fierce eyes finding his.  What she wasn't expecting was a rare moment of vulnerability on Sebastian's face.  The confident charming boy before her looked uncertain all of a sudden.

His rough hands reached up to gently meet hers, holding her in place.  "Why would someone as good as you want someone who's done so much evil like me?"

And therein laid the truth of Sebastian's fears.  If the savior of Hogwarts was too good for people as dull and drab as Garreth or Prewett, then in what world would she want to be with someone who had so much blood on his hands as Sebastian?  No, she deserved the best.  And it certainly wasn't someone like him.

She was flabbergasted.  She was so used to the Sebastian Sallow she first met.  The boy whose Slytherin ambitions urged him to greedily take what was rightfully his.  Where was the young brash and carefree optimistic boy whose boldness and forwardness had charmed her? 

She gently removed her hands from his.  His expression was caged off from her.  Gently, she reached up to caress his face, angling his chin slightly downwards so he could look at her in the eye.  He turned to her, like a wilting flower dying for the sun.  The walls around him melted as his knitted brow soften to look at her.

"Sebastian, you are rash and reckless.  You are possessive and incredibly jealous, even though you have no reason to be."  The other boy looked away, trying to pull away from her.  She held his chin in place forcing him to look at her.  He looked gorgeous in yellow. 

"You're also the most devoted person I know, devoted to Ominis, to Anne, to me.  You fight so fiercely to protect what is yours both on the battlefield and off of it.  Everything you have done, both the good and the awful, has been because of your love.  Everything that you are, your recklessness, your kindness, has been because of your love, your devotion to those that you care for.  How could I not fall in love with you?"

The bright joyous colors brought a sunny aura to his usual darkened expressions.  The Hufflepuff scarf around his neck made him look lighter, more open to the possibilities around him.  The hues of yellow reflected the golden flecks that were hidden in his brown eyes.

He scoffed, trying not to think too hard at her words, not willing to break into a million pieces in front of her.  "You are so brilliant, sweetheart, you could have anyone you wanted in the world.  I'm just a boy from some hamlet who couldn't even save his sister."

Her shoulders softened.  Oh, Sebastian.  "That's not true.  I am here with you, Sebastian.  I am choosing to be here with you.  I will always choose to be here with you, in this moment."

He could see her eyes dip down to look at his lips.  And with that, it was like the weak dam to his flood of emotions was broken.  He surged forward catching her lips in his.  His hands flew up to cup both sides of her face, marveling at the beauty he was holding.  She responded in turn, throwing her hands around his neck.  She met the storm that was Sebastian with equal ferocity.  Her lips pressed forward, almost bruising him with the passionate intention behind it. 

He could feel the curl of her smile against his.  Her long eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as if they were kissing the freckles that they found there.  She smelled of their shared apple tarts, and her lips were warm against his.  In her arms, he felt safe, like the world was created just for the two of them.

Lungs dying, he could barely stand ripping himself away from her.  He rested his forehead against hers, not wanting to let go of this moment even for a second.  His thumb was still caressing her cupped face, marveling at the miracle that was the savior of Hogwarts. 

"You should know, you are never getting your scarf back."  Sebastian quipped. 

She let out a breath of laughter.  Sebastian eagerly chased it with another quick kiss.  Later, much, much later, after he was finished kissing his darling silly, he'll walk out the Undercroft with a yellow scarf around his neck holding hands with his Hufflepuff wearing that green scarf of hers. 

[undiscovered-horizon]

"She is not a bird" - Hvitserk x Reader

SUMMARY: In Eddas, every great warrior falls in love with a Valkyrie - a winged goddess equally beautiful and imposing. Hvitserk finds his after a battle as she's stitching wounds and bringing comfort to those who will not see another dawn.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k

In a colourful dress, she busses around, Time and time she turns her head, gives a smile, You could swear you saw her wings yesterday, How she hid them under the dress, But she’s not a bird, Can’t you see? She is not a bird.

Hvitserk has no interest in medicine or healing. Despite that, he has found himself watching one of the healers as she’s running back and forth between beds. She’s been at it for hours now and Hvitserk begins to wonder how come she’s not tired yet. Her feet and hands are equally quick as they had been when they arrived at the camp after the battle. The mesmerising glint in her eyes, something between curiosity and adoration, is still just as bright. Whenever one of the wounded warriors wants to talk to her, she sits at the edge of their bed. Her head nods gently before her lips curl into a reassuring smile and she says something in return. Maybe she’ll even chuckle at something. From where he’s standing, Hvitserk can’t make out her words but he can quite clearly see the faces of the people she’s talking to and it makes his curiosity consume him entirely to know what words turn agony into peace.

Lost in his own thoughts, the young Viking doesn’t notice jarl Friedgeir approaching him. 

“Enchanting, isn’t she?” he asks with a smirk. He’s seen this scenario one too many times to have any doubts about what Hvitserk is thinking about. Friedgeir himself has been in that very same position before.

Friedgeir Esrason is nimble for his age. White and silver hair circles his tired face like a halo. Sun-damaged skin makes him appear even older, although fuller of life. It’s a testimony of long days spent on adventures, seeing what the world has to offer. Despite nearing grandfather’s age, his torso is broad and his arms are about the size of a shieldmaiden’s thigh. Brass bracelets clink every time he moves his hands. The purple material of his tunic is clearly worn out, tearing in places of the most friction.

“She is,” Hvitserk admits.

Jarl puts his heavy hand on Hvitserk’s shoulder. For a moment, the young warrior wonders if Friedgeir could actually crush his bones should he squeeze his fingers a little tighter. 

“Can I entrust a secret to you, son of Ragnar?” Friedgeir asks in a low tone. His grey eyes look around the two of them as though expecting to find a prying set of ears. Everyone besides them appeared too preoccupied with their own duties and worries to care about the gossip shared between the Jarl and the famous Lothbrok boy.

Hvitserk looks at the older man with a frown.

“My brothers and I have risked our lives for your cause, Jarl Friedgeir,” he reminds the ruler. “I have no interest in breaking your trust. You know that already.”

“Good.” Friedgeir pats Hvitserk’s shoulder. He must be unaware of his strength as the gentle slaps are actually quite forceful, making Hvitserk answer his own question about crushing bones. Friedgeir can definitely turn someone’s skeleton into dust with a squeeze. “My wife mustn’t ever hear what I’m about to tell you. That girl…” he makes a pause and points his finger at the healer, “I think she might be a bird.”

Taken aback, Hvitserk looks up and down the Jarl.

“Did the Swedes hit you on the head?” he asks half-heartedly.

“I wish it was that. But no.” Friedgeir laughs bitterly and shakes his head. A shadow of melancholy flies past his sun-damaged face only to reside inside his silver eyes as a teary glint. “I always knew there was something strange about her but I came to understanding only after seeing the great viziers of the East and their pets locked in golden cages.”

Hvitserk glances towards the healer. His eyes follow her like hawk in hopes of some enlightenment that would make Friedgeir’s words clearer to him. Alas, she appears as she did before - enticing and human.

He shakes his head.

“I don’t understand.”

The Jarl lets out a sigh.

“Just look, dear Hvitserk. See the colourful dress like a parrot’s feathers.” Hvitserk has never heard of something called a parrot, so he is left to assume that they must look nothing like the birds in Norway. “And look at men’s faces when she talks to them. Pain and suffering change into hope and peace. The only time I’ve seen that was when one of the viziers asked his angry guests to listen to his oriole singing. After an hour, no one remembered what they were fighting about.”

Time as if slows down as Hvitserk is watching the healer sit on the edge of a cot belonging to a dying man. She holds his hand tightly and tirelessly wipes cold sweat from his forehead. The warrior is stuttering, fever and pain making his wants incomprehensible. The woman sitting beside him only nods her head, offering a warm smile and a short response. Soon, the man falls limp. His eyes turn blank as his head rolls lifelessly to the side. The healer squeezes the corpse’s hand and only then gets up to continue her work. A pair of healthy warriors wrap up the body in blankets only to carry it away, to the place where a great pyre will burn after nightfall.

Hvitserk is more intelligent than the jarl. More perceptive. He’s seen geese flying southwards when winter was coming, only to come back after snow thaws. But not her - she stayed until the warriors’ skin turned cold and grey. Let go of dead hands only after the heart stopped, never earlier.

“She’s not a bird,” the young Lothbrok speaks up. Friedgeir looks at him curiously. “Can’t you see?” he asks with a chuckle on his tongue. “She must be a Valkyrie, leading fallen warriors to the gates of Odin's hall.”

The Jarl only nods slowly, pondering Hvitserk’s words. 

“If she is, perhaps death isn’t a too high price to be by her side.”

But he’s too young to be this patient and Hvitserk has to find a reason to be beside her now.

You’re taken aback when someone suddenly takes the wooden crate from your hands. The unexpected helper reveals himself to be none other but Hvitserk with a playful grin on his face. Despite giving all he could in the battle, just hours prior, he appears to still be vigorous as though the fight was a mere warm-up.

The man puts the heavy crate on his shoulder, securing it with one arm. What has given you backpain and cold sweat, seems like no chore to him. The Ragnarsons really are a different strain.

“Where do you want this?” he asks casually.

“At the pyre.” You point in the vague direction of where the bodies will be burned. “Illness thrives within the old, used dressings.”

Hvitserk begins wandering to the place you have pointed out and, not sure why, you begin to follow him. His strides are long and sure, his breathing calm and steady. He hardly fits the image of a man who had to fight like a rabid dog to survive just earlier that day.

“Are you not tired afer the battle?” you ask him. Confusion slips past your words.

“I am.” Hvitserk glances at you. It’s a quick look but you manage to notice him staring you up and down. “But I thought you might need help. You’ve been tending to the wounded for hours.”

A melodic, light chuckle escapes your lips.

“You’ve been watching me?”

His playful half-grin turns into a genuine smile. Staring at the road ahead, he almost looks bashful.

“I have a habit of admiring enticing things,” Hvitserks admits.

You feel your cheeks burning at the nonchalant compliment but you don’t let him notice that. Neither do you let his sweet words distract you.

“Then you must lead a busy, beautiful life.”

The man’s voice seems faraway and absent as he answers, as though his mind is suddenly occupied with vivid daydreams:

“Not yet.”

The noise of the camp is inaudible now. Only pine trees and wild berries accompany Hvitserk and you. A murder of crows suddenly takes flight as you pass by. Their cawing echoes through the empty forest.

You can’t quite put a finger on this sensation but something about Hvitserk makes you feel warm and calm inside. It’s the same feeling one experiences when sitting in front of a warm hearth after spending long hours in the cold. When the blood begins flowing again and the relief of not freezing to death is forgotten, the warmth and safety make one sleepy and giddy. But how can a man make you feel the same as a fireplace on a cold night?

Hvitserk sets the crate down with a low thud. The sound shakes you awake from your thoughts. A strong, putrid smell of blood, fresh wood and animal fat fills your nostrils. Even after all those years, it never gets easier to prepare people for their final journey.

“Thank you,” you begin awkwardly. Some more anxious part of you is suddenly terrified that he will somehow learn of your thoughts about him. “I don’t know if I could have carried it by myself all the way here.”

His lips curve into a sly grin and you can tell he’s about to weave a string of charming words but something about him distracts you instantly. Hvitserk’s shirt, once greyish-beige, is now brown and crimson. Not thinking much, you suddenly grab his arm. He doesn’t even get a chance to protest when you roll up his sleeve to reveal a, re-opened wound.

“Your hand is bleeding,” you state.

Hvitserk is unsure whether your stern gaze scares him or excites.

“It’s nothing.”

He tries to roll his sleeve back down but you swat his arm away. Pushing down on his shoulder, you force him to sit down on the ground with you.

“Well, it’s definitely going to scar,” you say quietly as you inspect the deep cut in his skin. “But the good news is, some women like men with scars. I know I do.”

You take out a sewing needle made from animal bone. For practicality, you’re used to wearing it pinned somewhere in your clothing. After all, one can never know when they might need it like when a handsome, charming Viking suddenly needs his wound stitched. Gods work in mysterious ways, truly…

A drop of blood drips from the wound each time you push the needle through the pale skin. Hvitserk is impressively collected - he only grunts a few times and clenches his teeth. 

“All done,” you whisper more to yourself than him. In a quick, mechanical manner you wipe the skin of his arm again and roll down the sleeve of his shirt. 

You’re standing up when Hvitserk decides he’s not quite done being the apple of your eye:

“How hurt does a man have to be for you to stay around longer?”

As though he didn’t just get stabbed eigh times in his cut and bruised arm, he’s staring at you with than same insufferable mischieviousness that you’ve grown to love so much. Sometimes you wonder whether this is exactly the reason he’s never had trouble charming women.

“A broken rib would do it,” you say with a shrug. “Or you could just ask.”

Suddenly, Hvitserk jumps to his feet. A newfound fire is burning inside him - a flame known only to those, whose affections are returned.

“Please?”

Jokingly, you frown at him.

“I didn’t know the Lothbroks knew such words,” you say in a surprised tone.

You feel his fingers dragging up your arm until his palm gently brushes against your cheek. The skin of his hand is dry and calloused, standing in a stark opposition to its owner.

“We hold it for special occasions.” Hvitserk’s voice is low, almost raspy.

“And me standing here is somehow special?”

“You don’t even know,” he whispers. His breath is hot against your cheeks. But how can a man make you feel the same as a fireplace on a cold night?

“Then tell me.”

At that moment, he knows he will have his entire life to remind you just how special you are to him; he will have his whole saga to love a Valkyrie.

[weirdkpopgirl]

Crushed | Jeno Fic #1 (feat. Jisung)

Title: Crushed

Genre: College AU

Warnings: a love triangle is heavily implied, kissing is involved. reader is little insecure

Word Count: ~14k

Author's Note: Like my other lengthier works, this story took ages to complete. I actually started writing it last year and the motivation to keep going was very slow. But I was determined to finish this story and now it's finally done! I know love triangles are cliché, but I've always wanted to use it in a story. I feel like not many people will be interested in reading this story, but I do hope that those who do will enjoy it. Thank you for reading and please leave comments ^ ^

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~ cats and coffee

“Hyung, Hyung—that’s her!” The younger one exclaimed in a hushed tone, shaking the elder’s shoulder.

Jeno’s eyes shifted upward to you standing behind the counter, donning a barista uniform. Your dark hair was neatly tied in a half ponytail and the round, silver-rimmed glasses added a scholarly charm, partially concealing your features. While your appearance might not be the most striking, there was a soft warmth about you that made others feel at ease.

“Who? (Y/n)?” He repeated, turning back to his friend.

Jisung nodded with a dreamy look in his eyes. “Isn’t she pretty?”

“Yeah I guess so,” Jeno shrugged. “Is she the reason you’ve been coming here so often?”

The younger boy’s cheeks tinged red as he bashfully rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe…”

Jeno never thought he’d see the day when Park Jisung—who used to run away from any girl who looked his way— had a crush. It felt…weird.

“How do you know her?” Jisung then asked, brows furrowing in curiosity.

Leaning back in his seat, Jeno replied, “She joined Jaemin’s club this year. I volunteer with her at the pet shelter.”

To be honest, Jeno hadn’t paid a great deal of attention to you before. The first time he saw you was during the first week of the semester when you joined the animal volunteer club, which he was a board member for. Aside from first-day introductions, you appeared rather reserved during meetings and often kept to yourself. 

Given Jeno’s own introverted nature, it took some time for him to actually talk to you. Even though he was in his third year of college, he still got shy when it came to meeting new people. In fact, it wasn’t until the two of you were assigned together to work with the cats that you were compelled to become more acquainted. Your shared love for the felines definitely eased the initial awkwardness. Despite this newly formed connection, his interactions with you stayed within the club’s activities.

Jisung gaped at this newfound information. “Seriously? You never told me that before!”

“Well I didn’t know you were interested in her,” Jeno teased, taking a sip of his iced americano. 

Just as they were talking about you, you caught Jeno's eyes and sent a kind smile in his direction. He observed as you exchanged a few words with your coworker and then walked over to their table. 

“Hi Sunbae, sorry for not noticing you earlier,” you apologized sheepishly, briefly adjusting the frames of your glasses.

“No worries. You looked busy over there,” Jeno assured you, before gesturing towards his friend across the table. “This is my friend, Park Jisung, by the way.”

Feeling a bit awkward now that he was in the presence of his crush, Jisung managed a small wave. “Hi,” he mumbled.

The warm smile you kindly offered gradually put him at ease. “Hey, you’re a dance major right?”

“Yeah, how did you know?” The boy’s eyes widened, raising a hand over his mouth in surprise that you recognized him.

You chuckled a hint of bashfulness in your demeanor. “I saw you dance at the freshman retreat. You were so cool, I could never do something like that.”

Observing the blush on Jisung's cheeks intensify, Jeno couldn't help but smirk involuntarily. “Oh—thanks. I’m glad you liked it,” Jisung said shyly, scratching his head. 

You glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing you couldn’t keep talking forever. A part of you felt guilty for having to cut the conversation short. But you also didn’t want to leave your coworker by herself for too long.

“Well, I better get back to work,” you sighed, briefly shifting your focus back at the two boys with a small smile. “I'll see you at tomorrow's club meeting, Sunbae. And it was nice meeting you, Jisung-ssi.”

As you excused yourself, Jeno and Jisung exchanged glances, both wearing smiles that lingered even after she left.

“She’s exactly how I imagined her to be. Kind and sweet,” Jisung said, the dreamy expression returning to his face. “Do you think I have a chance with her?”

Jeno shrugged, lifting his drink again. “Yeah, why not? You should try getting to know her more though.”

“How am I supposed to do that when I get so nervous when she’s around?” Jisung groaned, holding his head in his hands. 

Jeno watched his friend sympathetically, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t like he had much experience with girls either—not because he had some irrational fear of them like Jisung did. In fact, several girls eyed him on campus. But he just wasn’t interested in any of them.

Suddenly, a light bulb went off in Jisung’s head. “Wait, can you help me get with her, Hyung?”

The male across from him raised an eyebrow. “Why me?”

“You said you're in the same club as her. Maybe you could invite her to hang out with us sometime,” Jisung suggested.

“We’re not really that close,” Jeno mumbled, contemplating his friend’s request. He’s never been asked to play the matchmaker role before, so he wasn’t sure if he could do a good job. However, he couldn’t resist the hopeful look in the younger one’s eyes.

“Please do this for me, Hyung. I'll do anything you want!”

The desperation in the boy’s plea caused Jeno to sigh in defeat. “Okay, I guess I can help,” he relented, crossing his arms. “But you have to buy me snacks for the rest of this month.”

Jisung pumped his fist in the air. “No problem! You’re the best, Jeno Hyung.”

Back behind the counter, your eyes flitted in the boy’s direction again. A smile crept on your lips, noticing the animated expressions on Jisung’s face in contrast to Jeno’s calm demeanor. They seemed like really good friends as if nothing could tear them apart. 

Little did they know that their friendship would be tested.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

~ an accidental start of something

The following Saturday, Jeno spent the afternoon at the pet shelter, where they gladly welcomed their club. He was paired up with you to clean the litter boxes, and you were able to finish the task sooner than expected. With some extra time on their hands, you decided to hang out in the nursery where the playful kittens were waiting.

Jeno observed you affectionately cradling a fluffy black kitten. He couldn’t help but smile at how your eyes lit up joyfully. It always fascinated him to see your reserved demeanor fade away in the presence of something you had great fondness for.

He chuckled when a kitten playfully pawed at the shoelaces on his sneakers. Jeno gently scooped up the little one in his arms.

“That one seems to like you,” you remarked, breaking the silence.

Jeno smiled, softly stroking the cat’s head with his finger. “Yours seems to like you too.”

“I wish I could just take him home with me,” you sighed, leaning over to gently nuzzle your nose against the kitten’s tiny black one. Unfortunately, the dorms didn’t allow pets.

He nodded understandingly, “I know what you mean.”

As the conversation flowed between the two, Jeno decided this was a good time to bring up his friend. “So, what do you think of Jisung?” He asked casually.

A thoughtful expression formed on your face as you placed the kitten in your lap. “He seemed nice. Why do you ask?”

“Well, we’re planning to see a movie tomorrow,” Jeno mentioned, a hopeful glint in his eyes. “And I was wondering if you want to join us?”

You hesitated, your eyes momentarily drifting away from the adorable cat to meet his gaze. “Oh... I wouldn't want to intrude…”

“You wouldn't be intruding,” Jeno reassured a warm smile on his face. “I'm just trying to get Jisung to make more friends his age. That’s all.”

After a moment of pondering, you smiled back. "Sure, I’d love to then.”

For some reason, Jeno didn’t expect you to agree so easily. But this certainly made his job a lot easier. He could already visualize the male’s surprised but excited expression when he learned that you said yes.

════════

Jeno observed Jisung fidgeting nervously, as they stood in the lobby of the movie theater. The younger male kept stealing glances at the door, his excitement mingling with anxiety as they waited for your arrival.

Jisung clutched the popcorn bucket tightly in his hands. “I just can’t believe I'll finally get to hang out with her. What if I end up saying something stupid? Or if I—”

“All you have to do is be yourself and you’ll be fine,” Jeno interjected, putting an end to his friend’s anxious rambling.

Though Jisung nodded in response, he didn’t appear any calmer. Chuckling, Jeno gave him a reassuring pat on the back.

“Relax, Jisung-ah,” he said, “She’ll be here soon.”

As if on cue, you rushed through the front entrance, your hair slightly disheveled and cheeks flushed with haste.  

“I’m sorry for being late,” you exclaimed, trying to catch your breath. “A whole wave of people came in when my shift ended, and I couldn’t leave my coworker by herself.”

Jeno waved off your apology with a smile, “Don’t worry, you’re fine. We were just about to head in.”

He glanced over to Jisung who timidly extended the red bucket of popcorn towards her. 

“Here, um…I got this for you,” he mumbled, his words barely audible. The boy’s nerves eased when your eyes lit up with gratitude as you accepted the snack from him.

“Oh thank you. You didn’t have to do that,” you said softly, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. 

Jeno couldn’t discern whether you were touched by Jisung’s gesture or if it was simply your shy tendencies at play. Either way, the three of you headed into the theater room together and found your seats among the dimly lit rows. Throughout the movie, Jeno is mostly occupied with the plot unfolding on the large screen. However, he occasionally caught Jisung stealing nervous glances at Eunji from the corner of his eyes. Huh, he must really like her,  he thought to himself.

Two and a half hours later, the theater lights switched back on and people began to file out of the room accordingly. However, just as the three of them made their way outside the theater, Jisung suddenly realized his phone was missing.

“It must’ve slipped out of my pocket in the theater,” Jisung muttered, before turning to you and Jeno with a sheepish smile. “I’ll go back to find it. Are you okay with waiting here?”

You gave him a reassuring nod. “Of course, we won’t go anywhere.”

He smiled appreciatively before darting back into the building. Jisung’s absence left a subtle awkwardness in the air, a natural occurrence when two introverts were standing next to each other. In an attempt to move past that awkwardness, Jeno cleared his throat.

“So…what did you think of the movie?” 

His question ignited a spark of excitement in your eyes as if you had been waiting to discuss the movie with someone.

Though still appearing composed, you adjusted the strap of your purse. “I thought it was pretty good. I’m a big fan of action films.”

“Really?” Jeno cocked an eyebrow in amusement. “You don’t strike me as the type to enjoy the action genre.”

Your head tilted slightly with a smirk. “Why? Did you think I was more into cheesy rom-coms?”

“Kind of, to be honest,” Jeno said, rubbing the back of his neck. He couldn’t hold back a chuckle, having never witnessed this playful side of you before.

You placed a hand over your chest, pretending to be offended. “Well for your information, Sunbae. I happen to—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Jeno’s head shifted in the direction of the vibrating engine sound that filled his ears. Just as you also turned to see a red delivery motorbike charging straight towards you, Jeno’s body reacted faster than his mind.

The motorbike almost hit you when his hand wrapped around your wrist and swiftly pulled you back. As you stumbled forward, his other arm encircled your waist, holding you steady.

Once the vehicle had driven a safe distance away, Jeno met your eyes, which mirrored the shock on his own. His hand remained tightly wrapped around your wrist, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t tell if it was from the near-collision or from how close you were to him at that moment, your faces mere inches apart.

Time seemed to stand still, as the two of you stared at each other with shaky breaths. The proximity with you sent a surge of warmth coursing through Jeno’s veins, as he realized how mesmerizing your face was up close. And as he gazed into your eyes, it was practically obvious that an instant flutter of attraction had stirred within the both of you.

However, that flutter was immediately overtaken by guilt. Quickly composing himself, Jeno released his grip on your hand and helped fix your position.

“You’re not hurt anywhere?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

You also seemed to snap out of it, giving him a light nod in response. “Y-yeah, thank you,” you stammered, pressing your index fingers instinctively adjusting the alignment of your glasses.

His shoulders sank a little, feeling reassured by your answer. “It was nothing, really,” he replied kindly. 

Shortly after that exchange, Jisung came dashing out of the theater once more with his phone in hand. He returned to them with a flushed smile on his face

“Found it!” he said, “Do you guys want to go eat now?”

Jeno unintentionally met your eyes with a hint of hesitation before you turned to Jisung with a sweet nod. “Yeah, Jisung-ah. Let’s go.”

The dark-haired male trailed behind, listening as Jisung blabbered to you about his thoughts on the movie. His mind was racing with conflicted thoughts, and his heart still hadn’t stopped beating rapidly. Jeno cursed to himself, sincerely hoping this feeling would quickly fade away. 

Because if he wasn’t overthinking it, he might have just fallen for his best friend’s crush.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

~ getting too close

The university cafeteria hummed with the usual midday energy as Jeno spotted Jisung already seated at a table on the far right. Holding the metal tray of heaping food steadily in his hands, Jeno began making his way over. However, his footsteps slowed when he noticed you sitting across from Jisung. The three of you had never eaten lunch together before.

For a moment, Jeno contemplated just leaving and finding somewhere else to eat. No matter how hard he tried, his mind kept drifting to you since the incident that occurred a few days ago. The worst part was that he knew it was wrong to think about the first girl with whom Jisung avidly expressed his infatuation. Jeno repeatedly told himself that whatever he was feeling was temporary and would eventually go away if he ignored them.

“Jeno Hyung!” The sound of Jisung’s deep voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Jeno’s eyes flitted to the younger male, who waved his hand for him to come join them.

Knowing it would be hard to escape, Jeno’s feet reluctantly started moving again. He tried to appear as casual as possible as he took a seat next to Jisung.

“Glad I found you,” he mumbled, before briefly turning to greet you. “Hey, (Y/n)-ssi.”

You bowed your head politely. “It’s nice to see you, Jeno Sunbae.”

Jeno couldn’t help but detect an inexplicable layer beneath the typically reserved smile you were giving him. Maybe he hadn’t been the only one who couldn’t shake off the thoughts of what happened not too long ago. He tried not to dwell on that fantasy too much.

“(Y/n) and I were talking about the spring festival at the end of the month,” Jisung said, quickly filling him in on what he missed before he arrived. 

He nodded, picking up his chopsticks. “You’ll be performing with the dance team, right?”

“Yep, we’ve been preparing since the semester break,” Jisung said proudly, turning to you. “You’ll come to see it, right?”

Jeno noticed the genuine warmth in your smile toward the boy. “Of course, I will. I couldn’t miss something like that,” you replied affirmatively.

Your response made Jisung blush, causing him to lower his gaze slightly. Somehow, watching this exchange between the two of you left this gnawing feeling inside him. He wasn’t entirely sure why though.

His eyes followed when your attention momentarily shifted to your phone, which brightened with a text notification. Your brow furrowed as you read the message before looking up at him and Jisung.

“My friend Misun just texted, saying she signed up for a cooking class this Saturday. But apparently, all her friends ended up canceling due to schedule conflicts,” you explained, your eyes flickering between them. “She asked if I wanted to take their spots. I don’t know, would you guys be interested?”

Jeno’s mind clouded with uncertainty, as he turned to meet Jisung’s eyes. However, the boy’s eyes were already lighting up.

Jisung shrugged, “Well I’m not that great at cooking. But it sounds fun, right Jeno Hyung?”

“Huh—oh sure, why not?” Jeno fumbled over his words, agreeing without a second thought. 

You beamed, “Great, I’ll let her know.”

To be honest, Jeno wasn’t sure if this was a great idea. But Jisung already seemed so excited about a new opportunity to spend time with you and he felt obligated to be there as moral support. Although, he was no longer confident in how effective he could be as moral support.

════════

From the moment the cooking class started, Jeno didn’t feel too good. The class was divided into pairs. Of course, he encouraged Jisung to be your partner so the male could spend more time with you. He was left to work with Misun, who had invited them to today’s occasion. She was in the same grade as you were and Jeno vaguely recognized her from the university’s cheerleading team. Although he didn’t hate this arrangement, he honestly wished they weren’t stationed across from you.

Jeno was barely making any progress cutting ingredients for the soup everyone was supposed to make. His attention was drawn to Jisung nervously flipping through the recipe. He knew that Jisung was pretty much clueless when it came to cooking. However, Jeno observed you calmly instructing him to wash the vegetables, as you began heating water in a medium-sized pot. 

Your friend’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Don’t you think they look cute together?” 

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m glad (Y/n) is there to make sure Jisung won’t burn the kitchen down,” he replied, quickly regaining his composure.

Misun chuckled, her hand hovering near her mouth. “Honestly I was kinda surprised (Y/n) agreed to come today, she doesn’t usually attend these types of events.”

“Oh, really?” he asked.

“Yeah, but I think she's been trying to step out of her comfort zone lately,” Misun nodded, swiftly adding the chopped potatoes he had cut into the boiling pot. “And her inviting you guys to come makes more sense to me now.”

Jeno didn’t need to question further to understand what she was implying. Their gazes returned to you, who was guiding Jisung on how to mince garlic. A soft sigh escaped him, unintentionally. You truly did seem to enjoy Jisung’s company.

Shaking his head, Jeno attempted to concentrate more on the task at hand. For the next twenty minutes, he managed to be more productive. Just as everyone in the class was almost done making their soups, Misun asked him to cut some green onions for garnish.

However as he was doing so, the sound of your laugh mixed with Jisung’s reached his ears. Without thinking, he looked up to watch the two of you. He wondered what you guys were laughing about. From across the room, Jeno noticed that Jisung seemed noticeably more at ease in your presence now.

As Jeno’s eyes lingered on the scene before him, his hand slipped and the sharp edge of the knife pierced the tip of his thumb. A curse flew out of his mouth, and he barely registered Misun’s gasp that followed seconds after. When he opened his eyes, he found you rushing towards him with a folded paper towel in hand. Concern etched across your features as you placed it under his finger to catch the blood that was already dripping.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Jisung’s panicked voice came from behind you as he approached. 

Trying not to grimace as the sting of the cut started to kick in, Jeno forced a smile. “Yeah, it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad, my foot,” you muttered, turning to the teacher who had come over with a first-aid kit. “Chef-nim, is it okay if I step out with Jeno to take care of his injury?”

“Of course, go right ahead.” The chef handed you the plastic blue box. With the paper towel still pressed against his finger, Jeno watched as you briefly glanced back at Jisung and Misun.

“Jisung, you’ll be okay right?” you asked, wanting to make sure he’d be alright without you there to finish things.

The male hesitated for a second before nodding eagerly, “Yeah—I can handle things, (Y/n).”

“I can help Jisung too if he needs it,” Misun chimed in, “You two go ahead.”

With their assurances confirmed, Jeno soon found himself seated on a bench in the hallway beside you. His thumb pulsed with a relentless drumbeat, throbbing with pain. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but be drawn to the way you were delicately tending to his wound, even as worry furrowed your brow. Perhaps, you were one of the few people who looked at him like that.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he said quietly, glancing down as you finally managed to stop the bleeding. 

As you set the red-soaked paper towel aside, you reached for some gauze to clean the cut with an antiseptic solution. Jeno bit down on his lip, suppressing a wince from the sting of it, even though you were being careful.

Focused on treating his wound meticulously, you spoke without meeting his eyes. “You’re right, but it’s the least I can do. Especially after you literally saved my life last time.”

Though he wanted to, Jeno couldn’t find an argument against that. Once you finished cleaning the cut, you wrapped his finger with some white bandage. He noticed you pause after as you held his hand momentarily, before returning it to his lap. His eyes met yours in a brief, yet charged five seconds that made his heart pound—rather against his will. This situation felt too much like déjà vu to him. Was he the only one?

You then cleared your throat, shifting your gaze to look straight ahead. Subconsciously, you pushed up your glasses that had fallen slightly off the bridge of your nose.

“Try to be careful when using your left hand. Your thumb should heal in a few weeks.”

“Thank you,” he breathed, also having trouble making eye contact with you.

A small exhale was let out by you, before glancing in his direction again. Jeno could tell you wanted to say something, but you seemed to hold back this time.

“No problem, Sunbae,” you smiled at him, rising from the bench. “We should go back to our friends. I’ve never seen Jisung look so frightened before. He seemed really worried about you.”

The mention of Jisung’s name stung worse than the knife had. Jeno hadn’t even thought about him since they left, and he hated himself for it. This day was supposed to be for his friend to get closer to you. Not him.

One thing for sure was that Jeno didn’t know what he was doing anymore.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

~ the moment of realization

As the month flew by, Jeno tried but failed to limit his interactions with you. Hangouts with you and Jisung became more frequent, and the younger male often pleaded for his presence as moral support. Jeno tried to ignore his growing feelings for you. But it was hard when his spare time was now consistently consumed by being a part of this trio.

Then during the next club meeting, fate landed him and you paired to volunteer at the pet shelter again. He tried to convince Jaemin to trade shifts with him, but couldn’t find a plausible excuse without risking his secret being exposed or accidentally casting you in a negative light.

So he unfortunately found himself in the back room, folding freshly cleaned laundry alongside you. As the piles of white towels and soft cat beds grew around them, Jeno couldn’t help but steal occasional glances at you, observing how you folded the towels so meticulously. If you sensed his gaze on you, Jeno couldn’t tell.

“I’m looking forward to seeing Jisung perform at the spring festival next week. Are you?” you asked, once again breaking the awkward silence between you. Jeno mentally chastised himself for not initiating the conversation himself.

He nodded, mustering a tentative smile. “Yeah, I am. Jisung shines the most when he’s dancing.”

Before Jeno could hear your agreement, a staff member positioned near the doorway caught both of your attention. “Can you guys bring some kittens back to their condos from the private room?” she asked politely, her eyes darting between the both of you. “The customer decided to come back another time.”

“Of course, we’ll take care of it.” He heard you reply in the sweet, natural tone you often used around people in general.

The staff member sent the both of you a grateful smile, and stepped aside, allowing him and you to make your way to the private room. However, once you got there, there were no tiny felines in sight. As you mumbled words of concern, Jeno crouched down near the big blue chair to search for any hint of movement.

“Um, I think they’re under here,” Jeno said, his suspicions confirmed as he spotted two black furballs discernible only by their light green eyes.

You bent down to his level, your expression softening as you took a closer look. “Poor things, they must be scared.”

“Yeah I guess whoever came by must’ve unintentionally frightened them,” he agreed, extending his arm in an attempt to bring the kittens out from under the chair. However, his actions only served to make them shrink further against the wall.

Jeno let out a sigh of frustration, sitting up to see if you had any ideas on how to get the kittens out. He noticed the frown on your lips deepen, as you briefly scanned the room. Then, he saw your eyes light up with determination as you picked up a discarded cat wand from the floor.

With curiosity, Jeno watched as you crouched down and shook the wand, causing the feather tip to swish against the ground. “Come on, little ones,” you cooed gently, your voice sounding like a soothing melody in the quiet room.

It didn’t take long for the tantalizing movements to attract the kittens, inevitably coaxing them out of their hiding place. Jeno felt relief wash over him, as he finally scooped up one of the kittens, while you did the same with its sibling.

“Wow, you’re a genius,” he complimented absentmindedly, genuinely impressed by your quick thinking. 

You lightly chuckled, a hint of bashfulness coloring your cheeks. “You don’t have to exaggerate, Sunbae.”

As Jeno followed behind your lead back to the main room, he was unable to tear his gaze away from you. Something about witnessing you hug the tiny cat against your chest, placing little kisses on the top of its head, and whispering sweet words of assurance, triggered the feeling he had been trying to bury down throughout the entire month. 

Jeno held his kitten a little closer to his chest, feeling its warm black fur between his fingers. He knew then that he was officially doomed. No matter how hard he tried to remind himself of his loyalty to Jisung and resist the way you continued to make his heart race, he couldn’t stop himself from falling for you.

At that moment, Jeno realized that he was fighting a battle he was destined to lose.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

~ how one kiss leads to catastrophe

Ever since you met up with Misun for the spring festival, the strange look she kept giving you was making you want to hide. After enduring ten minutes of her burning stature, you couldn’t take it anymore. When you finally sat down at one of the food stalls, waiting for the guys to arrive, you decided to speak up.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” you asked, wondering if you had done something to upset her.

Misun continued to eye you suspiciously. “Do you have a crush on Lee Jeno?” she answered with a question that immediately caught you off guard.

“W-what?” you laughed as if she just made a ridiculous statement. “No, I don’t…I mean… is it that obvious?” 

A smirk of satisfaction stretched across Misun’s lips as she saw your cheeks heating up as you anxiously awaited her response.

Casually leaning back in her seat, she crossed her arms. “Not necessarily. At first, I thought you liked Jisung. But then I started to wonder if it was Jeno after seeing you rush over to help him when he cut his finger.”

“So it is obvious,” you groaned in embarrassment, hiding your face in your hands. It was a good thing the guys hadn’t arrived yet, or else you’d be such an awkward mess.

Amusement danced in Misun’s eyes as she leaned forward on the table. “I can’t believe (L/n) (Y/n) has a crush on someone. When did you start liking him?” she asked.

You pondered for a bit, tracing back to the events that occurred this past month. Your social life certainly has taken a turn ever since you became friends with Jeno and Jisung. Although you instinctively wanted to decline Jeno’s first invitation to hang out, Misun’s constantly chastising you for antisocial tendencies. In fact, she was the one who pushed you to join the animal volunteer club because she knew how much you liked cats.

“Well, I didn’t really pay much attention to him before, even though we saw each other at his club. I think it started after we watched a movie at the theater when he saved me from getting hit by a motorcycle,” you began to explain, recalling the details from that night.

Misun clasped a hand over her mouth and gasped, “No way, you had a k-drama moment!”

“I guess you could call it that,” you chuckled softly, lowering your gaze. “But the way he held me—so gently yet securely—and looking into his eyes, I don’t know…I just felt this spark?”

You weren’t exactly sure how to describe it. Honestly, you had been too focused on your academics and personal stuff to go anywhere near men. Yet that one heart-flutter moment with Jeno was enough to make you want to reconsider staying away from dating. It was sort of the catalyst that made you start to see Jeno in a different light.

“The more I spent time around Jeno, I just started to notice him more. Like how he can be quite funny when you get closer to him,” you continued, your voice softening with admiration. “He’s so good with the cats too, they always snuggle up to him when we visit the shelter. And he really is cute, like I don’t know how such a manly-looking guy can be so…endearing.”

Misun’s eyes widened in slight surprise. “Wow, you really do like him.”

“Gosh, I’m hopeless, aren’t I?” you mumbled, rather pitifully. You hadn’t even realized how fond you’ve become of the boy until Misun pointed it out.

 “Hopelessly in love,” Misun teased in a sing-song voice. “So, do you plan on confessing your feelings to him?”

Her question made your heart sink a little. “I don’t think so. He probably doesn’t feel the same as me, and I’d probably just make things awkward between us.”

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about what would happen if Jeno was aware of your crush on him. But for now, you were content with admiring him from afar, hesitant to pursue anything more. Misun, on the other hand, did not seem satisfied with that idea.

“Okay, I get what you’re saying, but I honestly think you have a pretty good chance, (Y/n),” Misun said, her tone brimming with conviction. “He literally couldn’t stop looking at you during the cooking class. Well, you know—until he cut his finger.”

While that did intrigue you a little, you didn’t want to entertain any false hope. You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Misun, I really don’t think—”

“Trust me on this. I can even prove it to you,” she interrupted, her eyes gleaming with persistence. “We’ll do a little test. When Jeno and Jisung get here, I’ll ‘accidentally” spill something on your shirt. If Jeno likes you, he’ll offer his jacket.”

Your brow furrowed in perplexion. “I don’t see how that’s supposed to prove anything.”

“Because it’s a classic romantic gesture,” Misun insisted, tapping the table for emphasis. “It’ll work, I just know it.”

Although you were skeptical about Misun’s idea, you worried that any further disagreement would be futile. Maybe you could find a way to back out at the last minute. Besides, this so-called “test” couldn’t even happen if Jeno wasn’t wearing a jacket.

To your dismay, Jeno arrived wearing a denim jacket over a plain white t-shirt. Your stomach started doing somersaults when Misun waved him and Jisung over to your table.

“Great, you guys are finally here,” she said, flashing them both a smile as she gestured for them to sit. “We already ordered food, so it should be coming out soon.”

Jeno returned her smile with a nod and settled into the seat across from you. “Thanks. Sorry we’re a little late…we got sidetracked.”

“Wah, you guys should’ve seen Jeno Hyung arm wrestling!” Jisung exclaimed, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “It was so cool watching him beat all the guys that challenged him. Even Mark Hyung lost, and he’s really strong.”

For a moment, your nerves faded as you listened to Jisung ramble enthusiastically. It was cute to see him raving about his friend, especially with Jeno looking embarrassed. But you weren’t too surprised to hear about Jeno’s strength. You’ve noticed the prominent veins snaking along his muscular arms before—not that you were staring.

“It’s not a big deal, really,” Jeno said, brushing off Jisung’s praise. Strange, you didn’t think you'd seen him blush before.

But you found it interesting how they alternated between being shy and confident. Their dynamic was certainly something you continued to admire since getting to know them. 

Misun chimed in, giving you a nudge with her elbow. “I’d say that’s pretty impressive. Don’t you think, (Y/n)-ah?”

“Yeah, definitely,” you agreed, appearing calm on the outside, though the somersaults in your stomach resumed. You shot your friend a discreet glare before changing the subject.

“Anyway,” you said with a smile, hoping the anticipation in your voice was evident. “I can’t wait to see you dance later, Jisung!”

You guessed it was Jisung’s turn to be shy, as a light shade of pink tinged his cheeks. “Oh, thanks. I spent all last night practicing, but I’m still nervous,” he mumbled bashfully.

“I always tell him he has nothing to be nervous about,” Jeno quipped, rolling his eyes playfully. His remark only intensified the blush on Jisung’s cheeks as he glanced down at the table in embarrassment.

You and Misun shared a small laugh at the exchange. “Well, it’s only natural. But I know you’ll do great, Jisung-ah!”

Jisung exhaled deeply, his hand resting on his chest as he met your eyes with a sincere expression.

“Thanks, (Y/n)-ah. I definitely feel better having you—uh, I mean, all of you to support me,” he said, his voice laced with gratitude.

The four of you enjoyed the convivial atmosphere and loosened up when food and drinks were eventually delivered to your table. You almost forgot about Misun’s subtle scheme unfolding.

True to her earlier proposal, she passed you a preemptive look before “accidentally” knocking her elbow against the half-empty soju bottle in front of you. You gasped involuntarily as the cold liquid splashed onto your blouse. And now, you regret your decision to also wear white today.

Misun pushed her chair back, feigning a look of guilt. But you caught the mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh no, I’m so clumsy! Sorry about that.”

Though her tone was apologetic, you didn’t miss the mischievous glint in her eyes before she shifted her gaze to the guys. Almost afraid to witness their reactions, you glanced down at the unflattering stain on your blouse. This was a lot more embarrassing than you thought it would be.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it, Misun,” you attempted to laugh it off, though your grip on the hem of your shirt betrayed your discomfort.

You were too flustered to notice as Jeno started to remove his jacket. However, when you glanced up, Jisung was already shrugging off his light blue hoodie and handing it to you.

“Here, wear this for now,” he offered, his eyes filled with concern.

You looked at him with slight surprise. “Oh, are you sure?”

“Yeah, I have to change later anyway,” he said earnestly. “It’ll keep you warm when it gets cold later tonight too!”

“Well—thanks, Jisung-ah,” you said kindly, hesitantly accepting the hoodie and slipping it on. 

The grin on Jisung’s face stretched so wide, but you were too overwhelmed with a different emotion to pick up on it. Although you did appreciate his gesture, a pang of disappointment gnawed at you, and you hated it. 

Meanwhile, Misun was watching Jeno closely. She saw how he paused mid-motion, his jacket still halfway off his shoulders, and caught the brief flicker of jealousy in his eyes as Jisung’s hoodie practically swallowed your petite frame. However, Jeno quickly regained his composure and smoothly slid his jacket back on as if nothing had happened.

Jisung glanced at his phone and took a deep breath. "Well, I better go get ready for the show tonight. I'll see you guys later?"

His eyes lingered on you, noticing your distant expression as you pondered how things hadn’t turned out the way you’d foolishly hoped.

"Yep, we'll be right in the crowd to cheer you on, Jisung-ah!" Misun replied enthusiastically for the both of you.

With that, Jisung waved one last time to you guys before heading off. Jeno cleared his throat and offered to throw out the trash from the table. As he excused himself, Misun grabbed your wrist before you could escape as well.

“Okay, I know things didn’t go exactly as planned. But—” she started to say.

This time, you shut her down by raising your hand. “No, I don’t want to hear it,” you shook your head, voice filled with irritation. “This was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Misun tugged on your wrist with urgency. “You have to listen to me, (Y/n). I saw Jeno was going to give you his jacket. Jisung just beat him to it!”

While you didn’t want to dismiss your friend’s words, you found them hard to believe. Standing with your arms crossed in uncertainty, the festival continued as your mind was preoccupied with the thoughts of Lee Jeno. You spotted him engaging in small talk with one of the seniors who was running the food stall where you had eaten.

Oh, how you wished seeing the way his eyes crinkled into half-crescents didn’t make your heart skip a beat. As the festival continued around you, your thoughts remained fixated on him. 

Misun was right about one thing, you were hopelessly in love.

════════

Honestly, Jeno didn’t know what he was thinking when he had nearly offered you his jacket back there, acting almost out of instinct. Jisung was the one he was supposed to be encouraging to do those sorts of things. He hated how fast his heart continued to race with you sitting next to him in the auditorium.

Jeno could see the boy’s eyes practically bursting with joy when he saw you wearing his hoodie earlier. He should’ve been happy to see his friend make a move on the girl he liked. Compared to when he first met you, Jisung was coming out of his shell more, and Jeno wasn’t sure he entirely needed him to be his wingman anymore. However, Jisung had no idea how conflicted and inadequate Jeno felt in that role.

“Are you okay, Sunbae?” you asked, your voice bringing him back to reality. 

“Huh—oh yeah, I’m fine,” Jeno replied, scratching his head sheepishly. “Guess I just zoned out for a bit.”

Your eyes still carried a hint of concern, as if you weren’t fully convinced by his dismissive response. But before Jeno could offer further reassurance, Misun tapped your shoulder excitedly. “Look, the performance is starting!”

Both of you turned your attention to the stage as the lights came on. Jeno immediately spotted Jisung in the center position among the group. As the first song began to play, Jisung's body moved effortlessly with the beat. The group launched into a medley of legendary boy group hits from older groups like H.O.T and Shinhwa to contemporary acts like EXO and BTS.

Jisung led the charge, his movements precise and powerful, each step perfectly in sync with the music. The crowd’s energy surged as they recognized the familiar tunes and the dance team fed off that excitement, their performance growing more dynamic with each song. Jeno was always to see his friend who was usually so shy, transform into a powerhouse of energy and confidence once he got on stage.

Yet Jeno was focusing more on you, watching the way your face lit up in mesmerization as you were captivated by this side of Jisung you hadn’t seen much of before. Seeing you in Jisung’s hoodie only intensified the pit of jealousy gnawing at Jeno’s stomach. He couldn’t shake the feeling and realized he selfishly wanted to be the one to bring that light into your eyes.

He almost didn’t realize the performance had ended, except for the loud sound of applause as the stage went dark again. 

“Wow, Jisungie was amazing!” you exclaimed, gushing to him and Misun. “I’m so proud of him.”

Misun chuckled at your enthusiasm before glancing at her phone. “Well, this was nice. But I better get going now, my team leader wants to squeeze in one last practice before our performance on the second day of the festival.”

As Misun gathered her things to leave for practice, she bid you both a quick goodbye, promising to catch up later. Left standing in the bustling auditorium, Jeno turned to you with a smile.

"Want to wait outside? It's less crowded and quieter," he suggested, gesturing towards the exit. 

You agreed and soon found yourselves standing on a serene stone bridge just outside the festival grounds. He could tell you were still captivated by Jisung’s performance, not that he could blame you. The air was cooler outside, and Jeno was glad you had Jisung’s hoodie to keep you warm. Tall trees lined the path, their leaves rustling gently in the evening breeze. Though the sky was dark, the dim lights from the festival cast a soft, warm glow that created a peaceful atmosphere. 

As they walked along the bridge, Jeno heard you exhale. “You were right. Jisung truly does shine when he dances.”

“Yeah, he’s been dancing long before I even met him in high school,” he said with a hint of nostalgia in his voice. 

As you both talked about Jisung’s performance and reminisced about the recent memories you’ve shared as friends, Jeno felt his nerves die down a little. It was strange how the sight of you made him incredibly nervous, yet his body would automatically relax when you two talked. Despite not having much to say, he noticed your eyes focused intently on him whenever he spoke, and he could tell you were fully listening. 

A short silence settled you two, a familiar pause in his interactions with you, Jeno didn’t trust himself to speak, fearing he might ruin everything if he gave away his feelings. And just as the other times, you were the one to break the awkwardness. 

“You know, I don’t let many people in,” you confessed. “But I’m really glad I got closer to you and Jisung this semester.”

Jeno was slightly taken aback by the vulnerability he caught in your voice. Now that he thought about it, you had been somewhat withdrawn before he helped Jisung get closer to you. It wasn’t that you were cold, but he noticed you liked to be alone and only engaged with those you knew well, showing no interest in reaching out to others. He had never judged you for it, figuring you had your reasons.

He nodded thoughtfully, looking at you with an understanding smile. “Well, I’m glad you let us in. It’s been nice getting to know the mysterious barista girl who likes action movies and has a hidden talent for charming cats.”

“You’re so funny, Sunbae,” you giggled, shaking your head. Hearing your laugh was like music to his ears, as cliché as that sounded. 

The evening breeze rustled the leaves around you as Jeno saw you contemplate for a moment. “Honestly, I’ve really enjoyed our time together,” you began, your gentle voice sounding nervous but earnest. “And seeing you today made me realize that I don’t just see you my senior.”

Alerts went off in Jeno’s mind as he recognized the direction this conversation was taking.  No, this isn’t supposed to happen, he tried to tell himself, knowing how much Jisung liked you.

After exhaling softly, you spoke up. “I like you, Jeno Sunbae.”

For a moment, silence hung heavy between you, and Jeno knew you saw the conflicting emotions flicker across his face. He didn't know what to say, more so because he felt he shouldn’t say anything at all. Seeing your smile falter only made him feel worse.

“But it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way! I just wanted to get it off my chest,” you hurriedly added out of slight panic.

His eyes gaze into yours with the same intensity from that day he saved you from the motorcycle. So many emotions swirled within him, pushing Jeno to his limits. He couldn’t look at you without wanting something more. Before you could say anything else, Jeno impulsively cupped your face with his hands and leaned in, sharing the most passionate kiss either of you had ever experienced. 

Your lips were softer than he imagined them, carrying a faint taste of the soju you both had earlier. As he deepened the kiss, he could feel the slight pressure of your glasses against his cheek. But in that moment he didn’t care, his desire to be close to you overwhelmed any minor distraction.

Almost immediately, you melted into the kiss, as if you both had secretly longed for this moment. One of Jeno’s hands slid down to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair and pulling you even closer. The other hand drifted to your waist, his touch firm yet tender. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket, grasping tightly as you responded eagerly to his touch. 

Kissing you now made Jeno realize how much he had wanted to do it all those times. When he caught you in his arms after the movies that day, when you took care of the cut on his finger when he saw the affection in your eyes as you cared for the kittens at the shelter. Each moment he wanted to press his lips against yours and convey just how much you made his head spin.

The kiss only ended when the both of you started to feel lightheaded. The soft sound of your mingling breaths filled the air around you, and Jeno let out a soft sigh of contentment. A smile was about to form on his lips, until he noticed your eyes widening, looking past his shoulder.

That was when he turned around, only to find Jisung standing at the other end of the bridge, his expression a mix of shock and hurt.

The younger male shook his head in disbelief. “No way…”

“Jisung, I…” he called out, his voice already full of regret.

But Jisung didn’t wait for him to finish. With a glare of betrayal, his best friend turned and stormed off into the night. Jeno cursed quietly under his breath.

You glanced at him in confusion, searching his eyes for answers as to why Jisung just left so angrily. But Jeno couldn’t explain everything to you right now. He had to go find Jisung.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I—I have to go,” he said, reluctantly pulling himself away from you. 

Then he left you standing there, completely bewildered, the guilt already beginning to pile up inside him.

════════

“Jisung-ah, wait!” Jeno called out, his heart sinking as he caught up to his friend, now a far distance from the bridge. “Please, just let me explain.”

Jisung finally stopped in his tracks and turned sharply, his eyes ablaze with fury and hurt. Jeno has never seen him look so angry before. 

“I just saw you kissing the girl I’ve been crushing on for ages. So tell me, what is there to explain, Hyung?” Jisung demanded, his voice trembling with betrayal. 

His mind raced with regret, struggling to find the right words. “I…I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

The younger male scoffed, the memory of him kissing you still vivid in his mind. “How long were you going to deceive me?”

“I swear, I didn’t even look at her that way when you first told me about her,” Jeno insisted, his voice laced with guilt. “It sort of just happened…and I know how much you like her. But no matter how much I try, I just can’t get rid of these feelings.”

Jisung shook his head in disbelief, his fists clenched at his sides. “All this time, I actually thought I had a chance with (Y/n), but my own best friend goes behind my back. I feel like a complete idiot.”

Jeno’s heart twisted painfully at the sting that came with his friend’s words. He knew he screwed up badly and Jisung had every right to be upset with him. He wasn’t even sure if this was something that could be fixed so easily. 

“I’m sorry, Jisung-ah. I just didn’t want to hurt you,” he lamented.

But his apology wasn’t what Jisung wanted to hear. “Well you did hurt me,” he snapped, his voice cracking with emotions. “I trusted you, Hyung. You were supposed to have my back.”

Jeno cursed under his breath and reached out to touch his friend’s shoulder. “I still do, Jisung-ah.”

But the boy flinched away and took a step back. “I can’t be around you right now. And don’t follow me this time,” Jisung said, his voice stern and final.

With that, Jisung turned and walked away, leaving Jeno standing there with a heavy heart full of guilt and regret. He wanted to call out and explain further, but he knew there was nothing more he could say to undo the pain he had caused his best friend. Things weren’t supposed to happen this way and it was all his fault.

The weight of his actions left him feeling crushed.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

~ the end of first loves

The days since their fallout with Jisung weighed heavily on Jeno. Any texts he sent were left on read and whenever they crossed paths, Jisung walked straight past him without a second glance. Jeno swore he was on the verge of losing it. 

He was angry. Angry at Jisung for not hearing him out, angry at you for confessing to him at the festival of all times. But mostly, he was angry at himself for letting this all happen in the first place. He should’ve known that nothing good would come out of falling for his best friend’s crush.

Wallowing in his despair, Jeno isolated himself in the club room where Jaemin eventually found him. The other dark-haired male sighed when he saw the troubled expression on his friend’s face.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding out lately?” Jaemin remarked lightheartedly, pulling out a chair from the table to sit across from him. 

Jeno sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “It’s not like I have anywhere else to go. Jisung keeps ignoring me and I can’t even look at (Y/n) right now. They both probably hate me.”

“Yeah, I tried talking to Jisung and he still seems pretty mad. This was the first time he’s really liked someone,” Jaemin pointed out. His tone was sympathetic but it only made Jeno feel worse.

He slammed his fist against the table, not even caring about the sting it left on his knuckles. “I know! Everything is messed up because of me and I have no idea how to fix it.”

There was a tense silence that hung in the air, Jaemin not having expected his friend’s sudden outrage. But he couldn’t necessarily blame him. 

Jaemin sighed empathetically, leaning forward with a serious expression. “Look, I get that you’re in a tough spot, man. But you can’t blame yourself for everything. Sometimes things just happen, and people get hurt.”

Jeno slumped in his chair, the anger in him slowly simmering as Jaemin placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “What matters now is how you handle it,” he continued. “Jisung just needs some space right now, he’ll come around eventually. As for (Y/n), maybe it’s time to talk to her and sort things out.”

Despite the guilt that still lingered in him, he knew Jaemin was right. As painful as it was to think about it, he understood what he needed to do.

════════

Nearly a week had slipped by since the festival, and Jeno finally encountered you again at the pet shelter. The awkwardness between you was palpable, and few words were exchanged throughout the volunteer shift.  It wasn’t until after you changed out your volunteer clothes and prepared to leave that Jeno gathered the courage to say something.

Exiting the building together, Jeno hesitated before breaking the silence. “Hey, can we talk for a moment?”

He could see the apprehension in your eyes when you glanced at him. But then you gave him a light nod of agreement. 

That was how you ended up seated at a nearby café. Jeno fidgeted with the sleeve of his jacket, unable to meet your eyes at first. He noticed your nervousness as you lightly tapped the cold glass of your iced latte. 

You seemed to sense his unease and responded with a gentle smile. “It’s okay, Sunbae. Just tell me.”

Jeno could already feel his heart sinking as he heard you speak so kindly to him. He hated that what he was about to say would hurt you, but it was what had to be done. He had to end things.

“I…we…” he started, finding it hard to articulate. “I don’t think this is going to work out between us.”

He could see your smile waver slightly, but you encouraged him to continue with a nod. Glancing down, he stared into his own cup of coffee which had probably gone cold now. 

Sighing softly, he leaned forward to explain. “The truth is, Jisung was the one who liked you from the beginning. I was supposed to help him get closer to you…but then I started to feel something for you and now I brought you into this mess.”

You stayed silent, processing what he just told you. He could tell you were surprised by his confession. Perhaps you had been too focused on someone else to notice.

“Oh, I had no idea…,” your voice trailed off, unsure of what to say to this.

Jeno swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue. “Now I understand why Jisung liked you so much,” he tried to smile but failed. “And I really do like you, (Y/n). But… Jisung is my best friend, and I betrayed him. So I don’t think it would be right for us to be together.”

Your reaction was a lot calmer than he thought it would be, almost as if you had anticipated things going in this direction after the way things ended the other night.

“It’s okay Sunbae, I understand. Thank you for being honest with me,” you replied softly. Your voice remained steady, but Jeno could hear the underlying melancholy in it.

The silence that followed was so agonizing that one could practically hear the sounds of hearts breaking. Jeno could see you were struggling to hold a smile, and a hundred apologies wouldn’t be enough to express how sorry he felt about all this.

When you finally parted ways, Jeno shoved his hands in his pockets, watching as you walked farther and farther away from him. But no matter how awful he felt, he kept telling himself that things were better this way.

Later that day, Misun was starting to panic when you didn’t respond to any of her texts. All you had told her was that Jeno and you met up to talk today, and she hadn’t heard anything from you since then. 

Figuring you had to be back on campus by now, Misun ventured outside to search for you. Just as she was about to pass the space between the engineering building and the liberal arts building, the sound of someone crying stopped and made her pause. 

That was when she found you nearly crumpled to the ground with your hands pressed against your eyes, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“(Y/n)?” she called out cautiously, crouching down beside you.

You didn’t look up, but your voice trembled as you replied. “I feel so stupid for crying. It's not like we were even together.”

This heavy feeling of sadness was unfamiliar, a weight you hadn’t carried before. Confusion mingled with sorry, leaving you uncertain about its source. Was it disappointment? Betrayal? Or simply the abrupt end of something that never fully began?

“How can you not be upset?” Misun affirmed gently. “He’s your first love.”

Hearing her words caused more tears to well up in your eyes, and you buried your head in your knees. It suddenly dawned on you that Jeno had been your first love. You had heard too many stories of first loves ending bitterly, but you never expected it to hurt this much. As much as you wanted to harbor resentment for what happened, you couldn��t find it in you to be angry. Instead, you were left to pick up the shattered pieces of your heart.

Meanwhile, Jeno sat in a dimly lit bar, three empty bottles of soju strewn across the table. Jaemin watched sympathetically as his distraught friend poured more into his glass. It was unusual for the both of them to drink, a clear indicator to Jaemin of just how deeply Jeno was affected by the situation. 

“So you ended things with her?” Jaemin asked, eyeing Jeno as he downed the shot.

“It’s what I had to do,” he murmured in response, his voice hoarse.

His gaze fixed on his reflection through the shot glass, and he saw the misery etched on his face. Gosh, he was a complete mess. How had everything gone so wrong?

Jeno heard Jaemin sigh as he patted him on the shoulder, offering a small measure of comfort. “You did the right thing, Jeno-yah,” he assured him. “Maybe it’s for the best, you know?”

Maybe the alcohol had finally set into his system as Jeno placed his glass firmly on the table. Memories of all his stolen moments with you flooded his mind, and he felt the sting of tears springing to his eyes. Cursing under his breath, he harshly swiped at them with his hand, feeling pathetic.

Jaemin pretended not to notice he was crying and silently stayed by his side. What else could he say? He knew how much Jeno liked you, and it was unfortunate that things unfolded this way. If Jeno was feeling this devastated, Jaemin could only imagine the turmoil you must be going through.

Perhaps, this was simply one of those instances where nobody found their happy ending.

════════

Eventually, the sharp sting you initially felt was gradually replaced by a dull ache in your heart. Misun made an effort to lift your spirits was appreciated. Some of your other friends noticed your despondency lately. But you brushed off their concerns with the excuse that you were just tired, feeling guilty for damping the mood.

All the crying and emotional turmoil had drained you of energy. The smiles you offered customers at the café felt strained, and focusing on assignments required every ounce of motivation you could muster.

Having to see Jeno from time to time at club meetings only made things more difficult. You tried not to make eye contact, yet sometimes you couldn't escape the weight of his sorrowful gaze, which tugged at your heart. Even sitting in the playroom surrounded by cats no longer brought you the joy it once did, not even when a kitten nestled snugly in your lap.

Nervously, you exhaled as you stood outside of the dance team’s practice room. You had finally gathered the courage to return Jisung’s hoodie, which had been neatly washed weeks ago. It had been neatly washed a while ago, but you had been hesitant to see Jisung after everything, fearing the awkwardness. Thus, the light blue clothing had been sitting untouched on the top of your dresser for some time.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing here?” Jisung’s surprised voice snapped you out of your thoughts. The other students exiting through the door briefly glanced at the two of you as they passed by.

Straightening your posture, your mind raced to find the words you had prepared. “I–uh, I wanted to give this back to you,” you said, holding out the hoodie. “Sorry it took me so long to return it.”

Jisung slowly accepted the hoodie with a grateful smile. “It’s okay, thanks for giving it back.”

You returned his smile, feeling some of the tension in your shoulders ease. As you exhaled softly, a sense of relief washed over you. This was the moment where you could simply excuse yourself and make your exit. Yet, looking at Jisung stirred a mix of emotions within you.

“Do…do you have time to talk?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

The tall male standing in front of you remained silent, hesitating for a moment. Eventually, he gave you a small nod and you spared him a grateful look, heading outside the building to find a bench to sit on.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your nerves. Despite all the mental preparation you did the previous night, you didn’t feel as ready as you’d hoped. Jisung’s tense posture made it clear he wasn’t exactly calm either.

“I…I just wanted to say I’m really sorry, Jisung,” you finally spoke, glancing down at your shoes. “I didn’t realize you felt that way about me, and I never meant to come between you and Jeno.”

Jisung’s expression softened, and he laughed awkwardly. “It’s not your fault, (Y/n). You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Though his voice was reassuring, you still felt incredibly guilty for causing conflict between him and Jeno. As a moment of silence passed, a pang of sadness lingered within you. Jisung had always been so genuine with you, yet you couldn’t give him the answer he wanted.

“I think you’re an amazing person, Jisung-ah,” you said, hoping he could hear the sincerity in your voice. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I’m always at ease when I’m with you.”

Jisung inhaled deeply, a wistful smile playing on his lips. “Thank you, (Y/n). It makes me happy to hear that.”

Smiling back, you folded your hands in your lap. “I’m sorry I can’t return your feelings…”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Jisung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Feelings aren’t something we can control, so there’s no need to be sorry.”

You looked up, surprised by the maturity in his response. Honestly, you hadn’t considered it from that perspective until he brought it up. But you still knew that this couldn’t be easy for him. Nobody liked rejection.

“I guess you have a point. But I know that the girl who ends up with you will be very lucky,” you said, gently.

He glanced at you appreciatively. “It means a lot to hear you say that, thank you.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the heaviness of the conversation hanging in the air. Sensing that it might be a good time to part ways, you stood up from the bench.

“I guess I should get going,” you cleared your throat quietly. “I’ve probably taken up enough of your time already.”

Jisung shook his head and assured, “No, you’re all good. I’m glad we talked.”

“Me too,” you hummed in response, definitely feeling like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Following you, he rose from the bench and paused briefly before extending his hand. 

“Thank you, (Y/n),” he said, his voice catching slightly. “For being my first love.”

You could see the tears glossing over his eyes, tugging at your heartstrings. Trying to hold back your own tears, you accepted his handshake with a sad smile.

Nodding gently, a lump formed in your throat. “Thank you too, for being such a great friend,” you whispered softly, afraid that tears might escape if you spoke any louder.

With heavy hearts, you both shook hands firmly before parting ways. Jisung sighed as you departed first. Things hadn’t turned out the way he had wanted them, but he couldn’t just stay hung up on what could’ve been.

Despite the bittersweet swirl of emotions inside him, he couldn’t help but smile as he watched you walk farther away. For his first love, he could at least say it ended with no regrets.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

~ reconciling

Jeno had been navigating through days that felt like weeks, his usual routine disrupted by the absence of you and his strained relationship with Jisung. Even though he had done everything he could to make up for his actions, he couldn’t rid himself of the gloominess that clouded his every thought. His mind constantly replayed the events that led to this rift between him and Jisung.

So when his phone screen lit up with a message from Jisung, asking to meet after class, Jeno’s heart raced with a mixture of apprehension and hope. They agreed to meet at the PC bang they went to all the time during their high school days. Jeno remembered all the trouble they got into when their parents found out he and Jisung were skipping their after-school programs to go there.

Jisung was already there by the time he arrived, sitting in their usual spot near the middle of the back row. Peering at his screen, Jeno noticed he was already warming up with an old game they used to play. 

“Hey,” Jeno greeted cautiously, trying to keep the awkwardness out of his voice as he settled into the gaming chair next to him.

Other than the nod of acknowledgement he received, Jisung’s expression remained unreadable. The younger male briefly glanced up at him, his fingers pausing on the rainbow keyboard.

“Want to start with PUBG?” Jisung asked, his voice lacking the cold tone from their last interaction.

Jeno’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he nodded with a smile. Soon enough, the familiar click of keyboards and the hum of the PC field the air as they dove into the game. Within ten minutes of playing, they were high school students again, shouting at each other as they fought through the virtual battlegrounds together.

“Ugh I died again,” Jisung groaned in frustration, leaning back in his seat.

Jeno shook his head with a chuckle. “I told you to go the other way!”

In the last seconds of the game, Jeno let his character die and pushed back from the computer slightly. The laughter died down as the flashbacks of recent events seemed to cross both of their minds. Feeling more response as the older one in this friendship, Jeno was the first to speak up.

“I’m really sorry, Jisung-ah,” he began earnestly. “You have every right to be upset with me. I should’ve just talked to you when things started to change. But I wasn’t being honest with myself either, and you got hurt because of me.”

Jisung remained silent, his gaze distant as he processed Jeno’s apology. After a tense moment, he finally responded, his voice calm but tinged with lingering hurt.

“I know you’re sorry, Hyung. You betrayed my trust, and seeing you kiss (Y/n) that night...it felt like you pulled the rug out from under me,” he replied softly, leaning his head against the chair. 

A familiar pang of guilt surged within Jeno. He knew his actions were inexcusable and he didn’t expect Jisung to forgive him immediately, or perhaps ever. Regardless, he was grateful for the opportunity to offer a sincere apology.

“But…” Jisung’s voice then trailed off, his grip on the mouse loosening. “I understand that you can’t really control who you have feelings for. And after thinking about it a lot, I realize I wouldn’t have known how to bring it up if I were in your shoes.”

Jeno felt a sudden wave of relief crash onto him, filled with gratitude for his Jisung’s understanding. He couldn’t help but be impressed with his friend’s maturity. When had scaredy-cat Park Jisung grown up so much?

“Thank you for saying that…and I really am sorry,” he said, his voice carrying genuine conviction.

Jisung waved him off, his nose scrunching in slight disgust. “Hyung, stop apologizing. It’s getting weird,” he said with a chuckle, reminding Jeno that not everything about Jisung had changed.

The two of them shared a laugh, and Jeno finally started to feel like things were returning to normal. Well, almost everything. There was still one lingering regret that stuck in the back of Jeno’s mind. Although he didn’t say anything, Jisung sensed it too.

As they prepared for the next game to start, Jisung tapped on his keyboard in contemplation before deciding to say something.

“You know, (Y/n) came to talk to me a few days ago,” he said, “I kinda had a feeling before the festival happened, but it’s obvious you both care about each other a lot.”

Jeno found himself blinking in surprise, unsure if he was hearing correctly. Slumping back in his seat, he shook his head in denial. “No…it doesn’t matter. I’ve already decided to step back.”

Especially not after everything that happened. Although his heartbeat still sped up at the thought of you and catching a glimpse of you around campus pulled at his emotions, he didn’t want to reopen wounds that had nearly cost him his best friend.

“It’s okay hyung,” Jisung said, leaning forward with a reassuring smile. “I can tell you really like her. You should be together.”

Jeno leaned back in his seat, his mouse hovering over the computer screen for a moment.

“Are you sure you'd be okay with it?” he asked tentatively.

Jisung nodded firmly, his expression turning serious. “Yeah. But if you hurt her, I won’t forgive you Hyung.”

“I won’t, don’t worry,” Jeno promised sincerely. “Thanks Jisung-ah”

The two exchanged understanding smiles before refocusing on the game. Jeno finally felt like he could breathe again. Now, without having to hold back his feelings anymore, maybe he could have a second chance with you.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

~ baby steps

Before immediately running to you, Jeno made a conscious effort to wait a bit. Despite Jisung’s assurances— practically fifty times now— that he was cool with it, Jeno still wanted to be cautious. He also wasn’t entirely sure if you still had feelings for him. Honestly, he couldn’t blame you if that turned out to be your response.

It wasn’t until the end of the week, during a club meeting about organizing a fundraiser event for the animal shelter later in the month, that he finally saw you again. The room was abuzz with chatter and plans, but Jeno’s focus was on you. You were seated across the table from him, intently listening to the discussion.

After knowing you for a while, Jeno noticed that you tended to stay quiet in group settings, listening attentively to whoever was speaking. You seemed more comfortable when talking one-on-one or with just a few people. Even then, you spoke softly and blushed easily when you felt the focus shift to you. But he found that side of you to be kind of cute. Actually, he thought your entire personality was quite endearing.

As the meeting finally wrapped up and people began to disperse, Jaemin caught Jeno’s eye. Without saying a word, Jaemin made a not-so-subtle gesture toward you as you packed away your laptop. Jeno’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but he knew what his friend was encouraging him to do.

After exhaling deeply, Jeno pushed himself to approach you as more people left the room. Determined to take this step, he ignored the way his heart raced with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. 

“Wait, (Y/n)!” He called out before he could chicken out.

Catching your attention, you turned around looking a bit surprised. But you quickly recovered, your eyebrows raising with careful curiosity. 

“Oh Sunbae, did you need something?”

For a second, Jeno’s brain momentarily forgot how to form words. “No, I—uh…I wanted to ask if you have a minute?”

He noticed a flicker of uncertainty pass through your eyes as you nervously gripped the strap of your bag. Nevertheless, you managed a small nod and pulled out your chair to sit down.

Thankful for the lack of a negative response, Jeno took a seat across from you. His fingers drummed nervously against the table as he scrambled to recall the speech he had half-prepared. However, your patient gaze helped him relax a little.

“So, um I met up with Jisung the other day,” Jeno started to explain, rubbing the back of his neck. “We had to talk through some things, and I apologized. He forgave me and now we’re all good.”

Your eyes brightened at this news, and you placed a hand over your chest in relief. “Oh, thank goodness. I was really worried I ruined things for you two.”

He shook his head with a reassuring smile, “No, you didn’t ruin anything. I was the one who made a mess of things. But Jisung was pretty understanding about it all, which I’m grateful for.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” you breathed.

Jeno could hear the sincerity in your voice, which he appreciated. Pausing for a moment, he glanced down at his hands before speaking again.

"He also said that it’s okay for us to be together," Jeno said, hastily adding, "But I completely understand if you don’t want to give me a second chance. Especially after everything that happened.”

It took you a minute or two to digest his words, trying to process this sudden information. Then a small smile began to form on your lips, and he watched as your gaze lowered shyly.

“Well if Jisung is truly alright with it, then I guess I’m open to that,” you replied softly, your smile growing warmer. 

Jeno’s face lit up with relief and a glimmer of joy. “That’s great to hear because…I really like you, (Y/n).”

His confession made you blush, a giddy feeling welling up inside. Though he had technically kissed you first that one time, he hadn’t given a clear response when you first confessed. So you were elated by the confirmation that your feelings were not unrequited.

Being the socially awkward individuals you were, neither of you were sure what to do next. But Jeno stood up first, swinging his school bag around his shoulder.

“If you don’t have anything else planned today,” he asked with a hopeful expression. “Do you want to go grab a meal or something?”

Your smile remained, and you got up from your chair. “If food is involved, I’m in.”

Jeno chuckled warmly at your response, his heart beating rapidly with excitement as he held the door open for the two of you to exit the room together. As you both made your way outside, a moment of hesitation flickered between you. 

With the dynamics between you two having shifted significantly in just a few minutes, you were uncertain about navigating the new boundaries. As both of you internally pondered this, you exchanged subtle glances and shared a nervous laugh.

“Maybe we should take things slow,” you quietly suggested. “Like baby steps, you know?”

Although you couldn’t help but think of that passionate kiss you first shared. Back then, you and Jeno certainly jumped a few levels and things didn’t end that great.

Jeno was quick to nod in agreement, “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, unsure of where to start with taking “baby steps.” Deciding to be brave, Jeno gently took your hand in his, your fingers intertwining perfectly.

“Is holding hands okay for now?” He asked with a smile so adorable it made your heart flutter.

Trying to suppress your shyness, you nodded tentatively in response. The warmth of his hand contrasting with your own slightly cool one felt both comforting and reassuring. It was like that day he saved you from the motorcycle, his touch was gentle yet protective. Now that you thought about it, you got that feeling from kissing him too. But that type of thing could wait a little bit. Baby steps, you reminded yourself.

After holding back feelings for so long and dealing with some obstacles, both of you found joy in simply holding hands. Jeno hadn’t felt this laid back in a long time.

No more hiding or fighting his feelings. Finally, he could breathe freely and follow his heart.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

~ epilogue

Time flew by a lot quicker than Jeno expected. It felt like he blinked and suddenly three months had flown by with you. Since that day, his feelings for you only grew stronger and it felt so great not having to hide them anymore. Jeno couldn’t help but also notice how your smiles seemed brighter when you were together. Once the initial shyness wore off, your conversations flowed effortlessly, deepening your understanding of each other with each passing day.

The weather was getting warmer, and Jeno had fallen into this routine of walking you home after you got off your shifts at the café. The street lamps cast a soft glow, illuminating the path as you stroll hand in hand.

“You know, you don’t have to walk me to my dorm every night,” you said, gently bumping your shoulder against his. “Especially when you have an eight a.m. class the next morning.”

Jeno smiled to himself, squeezing your hand lightly. “Yeah, but I want to. Besides, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you walk back alone when it’s dark out?”

You sighed in defeat, realizing it was hard to argue with his logic. And if you were being honest with yourself, you did appreciate getting to spend some extra time with him. Jeno's lips curled into a satisfied smile, pleased that you didn't protest further. A comfortable silence enveloped you both as you walked, savoring the simple pleasure of each other’s company.

“Hey, don’t you think Jisung and Misun are getting closer lately?” you asked, the thought suddenly popped into your mind.

His eyes met yours with a hint of surprise. “You noticed too? I thought I was the only one.”

“Well, Misun hasn’t said anything to me outright,” you mused, “But I catch them exchanging glances with each other all the time.”

Jeno chuckled, knowing how you picked up on these things so quickly. Ironically enough, you seemed completely oblivious to how he used to stare at you all the time before dating.

Nodding in agreement, he added, “Yeah, and apparently Jisung saw Misun’s performance for cheer at the festival. I guess he’s been kind of impressed by her ever since.”

You felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of your friends getting together. Misun had mentioned to you that Jisung was helping her come up with a new routine for her upcoming cheer competition. Those two have definitely been spending more time together, and you were all for it.

“They’d look so cute together,” you sighed dreamily, picturing them in your mind.

Jeno glanced down at his shoes, frowning a little. “But not cuter than us, right?”

Your head turned to see the subtle pout of jealousy on his lips, making you giggle. After being with him for a while, you learned that your boyfriend tended to get sulky quite often. Before your shyness could kick in, you reached up on the tip of your toes to give him a small peck.

Gently stroking his cheek with your thumb, you paused to reassure him. “Of course not. I think Jaemin Sunbae said we’re the type of cute that single people envy.”

Any trace of sulkiness slowly faded from his handsome face, replaced by his adorable eye smile. His strong arms instinctively encircled around your waist, drawing you closer to him. Gazing lovingly into your eyes, he brushed back a lock of hair behind your ear. The familiar unspoken attraction crackled in the air and the two of you leaned in naturally for a sweet kiss.

Unlike your first kiss, this one unfolded slowly, with the passion simmering gently between you. Jeno easily forgot everything around him, one of his hands getting lost in your hair while the other held you securely against him. Meanwhile, your hands rested comfortably on his broad shoulders, delighting in the sensation of his lips guiding yours in a series of tender, warm kisses.

However, you were the first to pull away, knowing that this moment sadly couldn’t last forever. The night was already growing late, and a nagging voice in the back of your mind warned you to be more careful. 

“As much as I’d love to keep going, we’re going to get penalized for missing curfew again,” you mumbled, lightly squeezing his hand.

Jeno frowned, clearly displeased about the abrupt end to the kiss. But he knew you were right. For some reason, your RA was super strict about everyone being in their dorm rooms by 10 p.m.

With a sigh of resignation, he nodded reluctantly and allowed you to start walking again. But Jeno couldn’t be upset for long, knowing he’d have plenty more opportunities to feel your soft, pillowy lips against his. He was a little clingy when it came to you, and thankfully you didn’t seem to mind.

Though Jeno felt pretty miserable earlier in the semester, now he couldn’t be happier to be alive. With Jisung still as his best friend and now having you by his side, he felt like he could accomplish anything.

Being in love had that sort of effect on people, Jeno supposed. And he had a feeling you would agree with him on that too.

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previous masterlist -> current masterlist

[ellecdc]

The Drink Snob (part 4)

mafia au!Remus Lupin x fem!reader - 3k

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4

You stood on the sidewalk staring dumbly at the sign that hung above the door of the restaurant - La Luna – with a list of references under your arm.

You’d thought long and hard about showing up today, and you weren’t sure which part of you was the part that won. Was it the part of you who saw things through? The part of you who had a lovely conversation with a motherly sounding woman on the phone and had promised her you’d be here? Was it the part of you who sort of wanted to see The Man™ again? Or was it the part of you who didn’t like being told what to do?

You supposed it didn’t much matter now which part of you won, seeing as it found you here.

Now you just had to make it inside the restaurant...which should be easy...seeing as you had two functioning legs...so why the hell aren’t they moving?

Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe you shouldn’t have come. Who voluntarily works for a criminal? Or at least for a criminal’s mother. He’s proven to you that he’s nothing but trouble. 

What if it was the good kind of trouble? The kind that led to fun banter and teasing remarks. The kind that made life more exciting and adventurous. The kind that made him really fun in bed.

Stop it.

He wasn’t the good kind of trouble. He was a criminal. Just because he stopped one guy from drugging you doesn’t mean he’s any better than him. Just because he spent hours with you at a bar listening to you lament about your life. Just because he took the opportunity to warn you about his mother’s restaurant. Just because he seemed to give a damn about you...

No, that was wishful thinking. 

You shouldn’t be here.

Your option to leave was taken from you, however, when a man exciting the restaurant paused to hold the door open for you.

Fuck it.

You thanked the man and squared your shoulders as you entered the restaurant. 

It was fairly quiet inside, which you supposed made sense seeing as it didn’t open until 4pm. There were some serving staff behind the bar readying glassware and silverware for the evening, and a few men moving a large piece of furniture covered with a moving blanket to the corner of the restaurant.

“No fucking way. You came!” A voice called. You turned to see the same curly haired man from the restaurant the night that The Man™ saved you from Tan. He was smiling widely at you as if the two of you were old friends that hadn’t seen each other in years.

“Uhm...me?” you asked dumbly. Kill me now.

The man just laughed as he approached you and gave you a bone crushing hug. “Yeah you! You’re The Girl.”

“The girl?” You muttered as you stepped away from the overly affectionate man.

“James, step away from the girl; she doesn’t even know you.” A shorter man with black hair and silver eyes said as he smiled politely at you. “Sorry about him. He’s mostly harmless, just an idiot.”

The man...James...beamed at you as if his friend hadn’t just insulted him.

“I’m James, this is my boyfriend Regulus.” James introduced finally. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” You said as you gave him your name in turn.

“Oh, we know.” Another man said as he entered the dining area. He looked startlingly similar to Regulus, though his hair was quite a bit longer and he was littered with tattoos and silver jewelry. He was also accompanied by The Man™.

“Don’t be fucking weird.” The Man™ muttered to his companion.

“Sorry Moons, no can do.” He said salaciously as he waltzed his way over to you extending his hand. “The names Sirius, doll. So glad I finally get to meet you.” He said with a wink.

You choked on a laugh. 

“Fucking hell. You’re unbelievable.” You said instead of hello.

“Thank you!” He beamed, puffing his chest not unlike a peacock.

“That wasn’t a compliment...”

James barked a laugh. “Oh Moony, can we keep her?” He said as he wiped a fake tear from under his eye.

“You’re name’s Moony?” You asked incredulously.

The Man���s murderous glare softened as he looked from James to you. “One of them.”

“The sods name is Remus, dollface. Don’t mind him, he’s emotionally constipated.” Sirius interjected.

“Sirius!” Remus chastised from across the room. 

“What is goi-oh! You must be Y/N!” A lovely woman exclaimed as she made her way into the dining hall. “I was wondering what had my boys so rowdy.”

You flushed under the insinuation and extended your hand quickly.

“You must be Hope. It’s nice to meet you; I’m terribly sorry if you’ve been waiting on me.”

The woman waved you off and threw a sarcastic glance over her shoulder. “Oh, I’m not fussed. It’s hard to get almost anything done with this lot ‘round. Come, leave the boys to their folly.” She said as she ushered you down the hall. 

“Those are your boys?” You asked as the two of you made your way to what looked to be Hope’s office.

“Yes! Well, technically just Remus. But they’re a package deal, those boys.” She said with the fondness only a mother could manage. It made your heart hurt.

“I suppose that’s an important quality...in his line of work.” You offered. You chose to attend the interview regardless, but it was important for you to understand exactly what was expected of you here.

Hope looked at you with a knowing glint in her eye as she sat at her desk, seeming to size you up. “Yes, I suppose so.”

She pulled out some papers and you placed your references in front of you.

“So, what kind of questions do you have for me?” She asked casually.

You felt your eyebrows furrow as you calculated her question; you’d never been asked that at the beginning of an interview before.

“Erm, I... well I guess I’d like to know a little more about what the job entails.”

Hope smiled widely at you – you could see now where Remus got his dimples from.

“Well, we were looking for someone who had a license to serve liquor, perhaps to help with serving and bussing tables. But really what I’m most excited about is your music.”

“My music?” You asked quietly.

“Oh yes.” Hope offered enthusiastically. “I’ve always wanted live music here, but we’ve never had anyone to do that! I must admit, I looked you up after I received your CV – you’re very talented.”

“Oh, god.” You murmured as you felt you face heat in embarrassment. “I’ve really only played with orchestra’s – I’m not sure that’s an example of any talent.”

“Hm, and modest too. Tell me, do you make it a habit of downplaying your worth?”

You felt like you’d been slapped.

“Because you shouldn’t. You ought to be proud; I sure am.” She carried on like she hadn’t just rocked your world. You cleared your throat and tried to fight against the tears clamoring their way to the surface.

“As for...this line of work.” Hope carried on, emphasizing your phrasing regarding Remus’ job. “This is indeed a restaurant. We deal with mostly restaurant matters. Some of our patrons may be...more colourful than average, and we may see the boys come and go from time-to-time, but there’s nothing you’d need to be concerned about.”

You nodded, a little stunned by the speed of this conversation, but feeling like you got the gist.

Restaurant. Shady business behind the scenes. Nothing for you to worry about.

Good enough.

“Look. You’ve worked at bars in some of the largest cities in North America – that tells me you work well under pressure and in a fast-paced environment. You’ve worked with orchestras across the continent as well, which tells me you work well in a team environment. You’re working towards your doctorate which tells me you’re dedicated and hard working. You’re an ideal candidate, Y/N.”

Remus was right – how does one say no to Hope Lupin?

“Do you work well in a team?” She asked plainly.

“Yes.”

“Do you work well under pressure?”

“Sure.”

“How’s your right hook?”

You laughed. “Not bad? I guess...I’ve not had to use it much if I’m being honest.”

Hope shrugged her shoulders. “We can work on that.”

You laughed again before taking a deep breath. “Okay. Alright, well...whatever you need then.”

Hope smiled. “You’ll play for us?”

You grimaced but shifted it to a smile. “There’s no saying no to you, is there?”

Hope beamed. “And you’re a quick learned. Excellent! Come with me.” She called as she stood and marched out of her office. 

You followed her obediently back out to the dining hall where James, Remus, Sirius, and Regulus were still loitering – each having taken a seat at a different table. And that large piece of furniture they’d been moving in when you arrived? It was a piano.

It was a Concert A 192 Bechstein grand piano.

It was a brand-new Concert A 192 Bechstein grand piano.

You thought you were going to faint. These pianos were not cheap.

“Think this will work for you? I’m sure we could swap it for something else if needed.” Hope commented as she moved towards the piano.

“You got this...for me?” You murmured. Hope smiled at you but bit it back when she saw the emotion on your face. 

“Well, we got it for the restaurant. If you need something else though, we can likely exchange it.”

She was interrupted by a scoff from Sirius. “I am not breaking my back dragging that thing back out of here again, mummykins.”

“You’ll damn well do whatever the hell I tell you too, bubs.” She shot back.

Sirius conceded immediately. “Absolutely. Whatever you want mum.”

“So, are you gonna play us something?” James interjected.

“Now?” You asked apprehensively. 

“Well, someone’s gotta test it out.” He shrugged. “They tuned it at the store but said it might shift slightly during the move.”

You hummed in acknowledgement but made no move to sit at the piano. James sighed dramatically and stood from his seat.

“Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

Regulus groaned and brought his hands up to his ears as his boyfriend sat at the piano with a flourish, cracking his knuckles, and began pressing keys at random.

Sirius bobbed his head in encouragement as if what James was currently producing could be considered music. Regulus banged his head against the table with his ears still covered, and Remus shook his head with a grimace.

“Okay, okay! Oh, you poor thing what has he done to you?” You cooed at the piano as you swatted James’ hands away.

“Uhm, I was playing it. Duh.” He muttered as he stood from the bench.

“That was a crime, is what it was. This piano is a work of art – it costs as much as a bungalow in America.” You said as you sat at the bench, staring at the keys in awe. 

You’ve played some pretty spectacular instruments throughout your life; the New York Philharmonic certainly provided for their pianist, no holds barred. But those were instruments you had to give back once you finished playing with them. Granted, this belonged to the restaurant, but...it was here for you to play.

“What are you going to play us?” Remus asked quietly.

You turned your head to him, surprised out of your musings, to find him looking at you softly.

“Any requests?” You asked the room.

“James’ knowledge of music that one can play on a piano expands no further than heart and soul, dollface. Don’t ask us.” Sirius smirked as he dodged a swat that James sent his way with an indignant squawk.

“You’re the expert.” Hope encouraged you from the side of the room.

You took a deep breath and turned back to the piano. You felt horribly exposed; no orchestra to hide behind, all eyes on you. Make it count.

You opted for a piece you’ve played an unholy amount of times.

It was your mother’s favourite. 

It wasn’t anything particularly difficult or challenging; it was not a technical piece in the slightest. But something about it spoke to you.

It felt like sitting in a sunroom on a rainy day and watching beads of raindrops race down the panes of glass. It felt like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds after days of overcast skies. It felt like a hug from your mom.

Turns out, it sounded even more beautiful on a Bechstein. 

The last few notes echoed through the predominantly quiet restaurant as you stared down at the keys.

“What’s that called?” Remus asked quietly.

You looked over at him to find that same soft look on his face.

“It’s called Sorrisi.”

“What language is that?” James asked.

“Italian, I believe.”

“What does it mean?” Sirius interjected. 

You smirked before responding. “I believe it translates to I smiled.” 

Remus watched as you seemed to shake yourself out of some sort of reverie. The piece was simple, but it was deep. Remus swore he could see years of memories and feelings oozing out of your shoulders as your hands danced across the keys.

And he wasn’t the only one. He could tell his mum was crying – most people wouldn’t have likely noticed, thinking she was just farsighted - but he knew that she only ever removed her glasses from her face if she was tearing up.

And then you had to go and act all bashful like you hadn’t just moved the room to tears with a few simple notes. Like you had no idea how wonderful you were. How beautiful you were.

Remus was fucked.

Here's the song you played for (Remus) the boys and Hope 🥰

[haru-natsuka]

Second Male Leads Are all Yanderes but I Won't Rest Until I Win My Love Back (Female Reader x OCs)

CHAPTER 1

Story will start from below synopsis

Every second male lead who appeared in this world had a hidden yandere side that can emerge at any moment and turn them into a twisted and obsessive villain.

As someone with a severe case of the "second male lead syndrome", you are determined to pursue your love for the second male lead, leaving the original male lead to become the second.

While you were busy chasing after the second male lead, the original male lead kept on bothering you and trying to get you to choose him instead.

"Don't you dare to come any closer!" You snap at the original male lead, your tone sharp and firm.

"Oh, and who's going to stop me? You?" The yandere stares at you, a menacing look in their eyes, as their body slowly moves closer.

"Too close! Step back!"

"Your words mean nothing to me. You can't control me. I will come as close as I please, you can't stop me."

As if a yandere was not enough, when you chose to ignore the original male lead, another second male lead suddenly entered your life, further complicating the situation.

The yandere and the upcoming second male lead both seem determined to have you for themselves, and they were both very possessive and pushy in their approaches to you.

You just wanted to be happy with your true love. Yandere or not, you would stick with your crush!

CHAPTER 1: THE CONFESSION

How would you determine for a man to be the first or second male lead? From behind a bush, you secretly watched a famous young knight professed his love to the most esteemed lady at the academy.

Confessions of love are a natural thing, it was everyone's right to develop such a feeling. However, how could you confess when you were hanging out with your best friend who had a crush on the same girl? We should talk about the timing there! 

There was a clear idiot word displayed on the knight's forehead in your eyes. His look also looks a bit stupid with a dump grin as he passionately confessing his love, forgetting his bestfriend altogether. Self-centeredness and idiocy were not a nice combination.

The girl appeared shyly glancing at him while softly playing with her eyelashes, deeply engrossed in the moment. Their surroundings were filled with a colorful display of flowers, bathed in the gentle rays of sunlight. What a truly perfect match.

'Hey, Liesel and Cyrus! My man over there, yeah, the one who is being ignored and neglected by you guys is having a moment of deep sadness and heartbreak right now. If you could please be the best friends that you're supposed to be and show some compassion and support, that would be greatly appreciated.'

You sighed with disappointment as both of them cannot hear your thoughts. It appeared that you were the one who must take action to save your man. Your crush hung his head low, using his glistening silver hair to shield his face from the painful scene unfolding before him. Hiding behind this wall of silvery locks, you could witness him hiding his tears. 

That was the difference between the male lead and the second male lead. One was a courageous figure, while the other merely existed in service of the female protagonist, loving and watching her from the sideline. As if she deserved such a title.

Despite the apparent contrast between the male lead and the second male lead, you found your true interest in the latter. You preferred him who was not as bold or confident, but who was always considerate of others' feelings. Even though all his paintings related to that famous girl, you still would like to declare that,

'My man finally is officially available!'

You made your way to your man, his head still bowed, tears still streaming down his face. You reached out a reassuring hand and quickly pulled him away from the scene. He appeared confused, and you flashed a triumphant glance in his direction, a bright smile upon your face.

"It's alright Adrian. My love is only for you"

>> CHAPTER 2