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hoshigray · 10 months

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Been thinking about this scenario a lot, but ex-husband! Toji, where you two are pretty chill with each other, even after five years of divorce. But the feelings between you two start to parade back after all these years, and it all comes boiling over after spending one night together.

A/n: Been a while since I've done one of these scenario thingies, plus this idea has been rotting my mind for a long time, and I needed it to get out, lol. I pushed back my Gojo fic to tmrw or Thursday because my brain was not feeling like re-reading 3-4k words while running on one hour of sleep. So, instead, we're dropping this in its stead. Sorry about that, and hope you like this while I fix the fic up later today :) Any grammar/spelling errors on this will be dealt with tmrw.

Cw: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - implied that reader is entering their mid 30s - starts out cute the first half but smutty the next, so minors DNI - implied that Tsumiki and Megumi are around middle school age; 12 (T) and 11 (M) - pining; Toji is whipped for you, I fear - Daddy kink - prone bone position + mating press - pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweetie, mama, princess) - cervix fucking - praise - itty-bitty-tiny overstimulation - closure; happy ending (?).

Wc: 3.4k (wow, way longer than the last one, lol)

Ex-husband! Toji...

...who you've divorced after being together for four years. It was a marriage built on love, convenience, and heartache. There is no denying that Toji loved you very much; if anything, the man would set the world ablaze if anything were to happen to you. Especially when you were the sweetest thing that blessed his presence and his two children who were young at the time — Tsumiki and Megumi at age three. The fact that you loved him as much as he loved you is beyond doubt in Toji's mind. However, somewhere down the line, you felt a "shadow" that you could not surpass nor fill — the late wife of Toji.

You could tell that Toji still had a piece of him that just couldn't let the memory of his late wife go, and you understood that. Hence why you chose to leave him, which was glum for all parties, but Toji understood where you were coming from and signed the papers.

...who's still chill with you after the divorce. You two promised not to act like complete strangers, especially with Tsumiki and Megumi being close to you. Just because the ring isn't on your finger doesn't mean you must change completely. The two of you are comfortable enough to be in each other's company, taking turns watching over the kids and acting like you're still married by poking fun at one another like the good days.

"Hey, big guy," Toji turns to the kitchen hallway where you're looking at him, his usual black coffee in his mug still sheltered in your apartment cupboards. "You look like shit; too tired to go to the clubs to find some minx to wow you enough like you used to?"

He snickers at your brazenness. "Shut up, brat. I could ask the same fr' you. Got some good dick on the side to help that attitude of yours, baby?" After checking around to see if the kids are nearby, you give him the middle finger. He chuckles before sipping his coffee.

...whose kids adore and love you so much that they secretly try to have you and Toji in the same place, which the two of you are entirely aware of. Five years passed after your separation, though that doesn't hinder the children from wanting you back in their lives again. Because to them, you are always a Fushiguro, and the love for you will always be there. It's there when you go to Tsumiki's soccer games and drag your ex-husband to find a better seat on the bleachers to watch her play. It's there when Megumi tells his father he "accidentally" left his baseball bat at your place and "unfortunately" now has to spend the night there (and you always receive them). And it's there when you promise to come along on family trips, like going to the zoo and taking pictures by the Panda enclosure with his daughter or going to the aquarium and listening intently to his son explain all the different types of jellyfish.

Toji can't blame his own kin for being attached to you because you are still a mother in their eyes. And so to his.

...who has his wedding ring on his dog-tag necklace but always tucks it under his shirt whenever you're present. It gives him a peace of mind when it comes to you because if he can't be there for you 24/7, he knows you're under his protection whenever you need it. But the thought of you knowing he still wears it makes him anxious, worried that you'll take it the wrong way and request he never wears it again. So, for his sake, he keeps you blind to this secret. And he wonders if you ever wear yours...

...who welcomes you without hesitation when you have to spend the night at his place because he notices you're too exhausted to go home so late. The only problem is that there's no other room outside the kids and Toji's. And as much you protest, expressing your satisfaction with taking the couch, your ex-husband disagrees and will carry you to bed, sneering to himself as you try to wiggle out of his stronghold until he smacks the bedroom door closed with his leg.

"I told you I was fine sleeping on the couch, Toji." You complain to him, yet your back is pressed against his chest with his arm around your waist.

"And I told you not gonna happen, princess." his hold around you gets tighter, pulling you closer for him to rest his chin on your shoulder. "You'd probably fall off and smack that pretty face of y'rs on the floor."

"I would not—You know what," you stooped from saying anything further to the man grinning behind your ear. You shift a bit to make yourself comfortable. "Goodnight, Toji. And thank you."

It takes every fiber in his being to not kiss your cheek then and there. Exhaling softly through his nostrils as he lays his head back on the pillow. "No problem, sweetheart."

...who the last time he had someone after your separation was not feeling it at all. You even said he is free to do whatever he wants when moving on to the next minx that caught his attention. You two are adults and shouldn't feel entitled to putting each other on a leash. Despite that, he knew moving on from you wouldn't be easy — especially in the bedroom.

The women he's had after you can only be counted on one hand. No matter how good the fun was with the others, his mind would always crawl back to you. It didn't matter how different their hair was, what they dressed that night, or how fucking good the sex was; you would cloud his mind in some way. They weren't you. They weren't his sweet thing.

...who's extremely perplexed in a nightclub when he sees you. He didn't want to go in the first place until Satoru Gojo barged into his apartment, dragged him out in his best attire, and left Nanami (another victim of Gojo's foolishness) to babysit Megumi and Tsumiki. And it was bad enough that Gojo snaked away from Toji to the dance floor the second they got inside, the raven-haired man almost popping a vein in vexation.

So the older man resorts to just doing the usual gig: walking around before sitting at the bar to ask for a regular beer. He stays there for nearly half an hour, taking sips of his bottle while sweet-talking to the ladies that occasionally find him and give him his number. Things got really loud when the DJ at the discothèque played "Up!" by Lil Vada and DonnySolo, all the party people crowding the floor, bumping and grinding each other while singing the lyrics. It was at this point that Toji had enough of the massive headache growing in his head, so he was about to down his beer and leave the club; Gojo be damned because the fucker could find his own way home and then some.

But midway through putting the beer bottle on his scarred lips, something in Toji's peripheral captures his attention. And his jade eyes go wide at what he sees.

Down to the right side of the dance floor are booths catered to bigger parties, so it's obvious to notice when a single person sits alone on one of the round tables while everyone else is dancing their hearts out. That one person was you, observing the dance floor with your head on your hand resting on the table.

To say that Toji was flabbergasted by the image of you in a place like this after all these years was tough for him to comprehend. Yet what really had him in a chokehold was how stunning you were. From where he stood, he could tell that you dolled yourself quite a bit. Your hair was kept in a style that displayed your face wholly, and you were wearing a beautiful halter-neck dress with slits revealing your thighs deliciously.

He forgets how to breathe when your eyes drift in his direction and find him. You're just as surprised as he is for a short moment, but you offer him a familiar smile and beckon him to come to your side of the club. The older man wastes no time, paying the bartender and making his way through the crowd to your table. When he's close enough, he can tell that your dress is backless, exposing your smooth skin that calls for him to touch.

And when Toji notices the ring on your left hand — the old wedding ring he gifted you — the world around him comes to a complete standstill.

"Hey, big guy." He snaps back to look at your beautiful face, your smile still there to blind him, and the booth far from the dance floor and music so he can listen to your sweet voice. You move to the side to make room for him to sit. "Didn't think I'd find you here."

"Me neither." He admits to you as he takes a seat, his green orbs never leaving your figure. "What are you doin' here?"

"Some friends dragged me out here for one of their birthdays. I figured I'd be here for a few hours and loosen up a bit, you know? But I don't know, I guess I'm just so used to being at my place that I'm out of practice with clubs."

Toji nods at your answer. "Yeah, I was dragged here, too. I'm with—"

"Gojo? Yeah, I thought so. He's right there dancing with my friends." He pans around to the dance floor to see commotion at the center. The snow-haired man was dancing as a crowd formed around him, getting grinded on by a woman with a "happy birthday" headband.

Gojo notices the raven-headed man staring his way, pulls down his shades, and winks. That's when the reason why Toji was brought here in the first place hits him. Gojo knew you would be here tonight because of your friend's birthday. And now that you two are sitting alone, the wink signaled Toji to make his move.

"....Wanna get the hell outta here?"

You giggle at his suggestion. "Yeah, I don't feel like watching my friends get pregnant on the dance floor."

Toji snickers and grabs your hand to lead you out of the booth. He then drapes his denim jacket over your shoulders to cover your exposed shoulders and back, and the two of you leave the club without anyone noticing a thing.

...who spends the rest of the night with you as if you two are on a date again. It's late, so many shops around the area are closed already, but that doesn't stop the two of you from having fun. From sharing a meal at a nearby diner, walking around a shopping plaza admiring the silent ambiance, and listening to old tunes in his car as you two share stuff about your day while holding hands. And the change of mood completely baffles Toji. Nevertheless, when he sees the smile on your face and hears the sweet tune of your laughter, the grasp on your hand gets tighter with every minute. All his intentions go into enjoying having you with him like this again.

...who stays by your side until he has to drop you off at your place, parked his car to walk you to your apartment door. It's 1 o'clock in the morning, way later than Toji ever intended to stay out. Not that it matters now, because it's all worth it being able to walk with you. He doesn't let go of your hand even when his heart dies a little when you two arrive at your door.

"Had a good time?" You ask while unlocking the door; your eyes showcase subtle exhaustion but are overshadowed by your smile.

"Sure as hell did since I saw you at the club." He confesses, your chuckles casting a spell on him.

"Hmm, I'm glad you were there too, Toji." You meant those words, your eyes gazing into his, and the man's plunged deep into your gorgeous orbs. A feeling that he now realizes he wants to be the only one experiencing with you.

An awkward silence for a few seconds prompts you to snatch your hand away from his, causing his stomach to drop. "Sorry, your jacket" is what you use to excuse yourself, moving to take off the denim jacket. But Toji stops you, his hands stationed on your shoulders to keep you still.

"No, it's cold, sweetie." His voice is hushed, only for you to hear. "You can give it back next time."

Silence comes back again, but the air is heavier this time. The awkwardness is replaced with something more solicitous, more affectionate. You notice it when Toji has yet removed his hands from your shoulders, his large palms warming you up to the touch.

"Toji—"

"It's alright, baby." His gruff tone is still a whisper, and butterflies flutter in your stomach. "I won't do anythin'."

"No, no," you don't know what came over you, but you place your hands on his chest. Then your finger touches something from underneath his turtleneck, having you pull his collar down to pull out the dog-tag necklace that still harbors his old wedding ring. Toji's blood shifts to ice cold when you see the accessory — his anxiousness spikes up to an all-time high, only mere seconds from combusting based on whatever your response will be. And it comes.

"I...I want you to do something, Toji." It felt strange saying those words with your shaky confidence, though it's what you wished to express. "I want you..."

And just like that, whatever restraint that the older man had for you was butchered away. Emerald eyes take in every feature of your anticipating expression, and his lips come crashing down on yours.

...who couldn't care less how late it is right now because he finally has you where he wants you after all these years. It's 2:30 in the morning, way too late for loud noises as they'll disrupt the neighbors next door. But, again, Toji doesn't care about that. When he finally has you lying under him on your stomach, screaming out his name while he drives his cock deep inside you, what is there to care about?

The two of you are in the prone bone position, where you lie flat on your belly on the cream-white satin sheets of your bed, your legs in between Toji's and bare ass out for him to have easy access to your creamy cunt that hugs onto him all so well.

Tears paint your wet and sweaty face, drool escapes from the corner of your mouth and meets the sheets beneath you. The harsh thrusts of Toji's pelvis hitting your ass with such precision have you see stars, and his big hands keep your arms still. All you can hear are the ecstatic cries of your voice and the noises of skin smacking together.

"Nnmph!! Haaaah!! Ahhhh, yesssss, Daddy, just like that," your voice feels strained from all the screaming you've been doing for the past hour. Lips are swollen from the constant biting, your butt stinging from the intense contact with your ex-husband's pelvis. It's hard to think of anything but the man above you and his dick rearranging your slit like his personal toy. You never thought you'd experience this exhilarating and rewarding sensation again. And now that you do, it's all you want to indulge in. "H-Harder, pleaseeee, I want mo—Ahhhnnn!"

Toji grinds his hips down to your ass, churning your insides and grazing your cervix to the point of incoherent babbles. "Mmmm, oooh, shit, fuckin' shit. You're too tight on me, mama." He gives you a sharp thrust when you least expect it, and the walls of your chasm clamping down on his length has him hiss. It's hard to believe you're permitting him to have you like this. It's been five years. Five years of respectful boundaries and keeping a platonic relationship. Five years of denying feelings of want and desire. All those years of heavy guilt suddenly lifted from his shoulders just for him to have you under his bow again, your body quivering and voice shaky because of his touch.

It feels so surreal...But, God, Toji missed this so goddamn much. Missing your eyes, your smile, your touch, your body. Just you. Only you. "Hnnngh!! Damn, you feel so fuckin' good, baby. Can never have enough..."

"Mnnaaaah! Daddy, I'm gonna cummm, I'm gonna—Oooohh!!" The tip of his shaft scrapes the upper walls of your vagina, your brain pounding so hard to the point it hurts. "Pleaseee, let me cum, Daddyyy..."

He can tell you're close and senses your orgasm climbing up with his. That's when the pace of his hips goes erratically fast, jabbing your sweet spots and tender cervix, causing more tears to come down and your peak to finally release for the third time that night. As you cream on his cock, Toji's not too far from his own crescendo. Your velvety walls contract around his member divinely, and the older man spills his load into your quivering figure.

You're allowed to experience the aftershocks of your orgasm as you two let your bodies calm down, Toji laying his chest on your sweaty, heaving back. He then slowly removes his dick from your chasm, and the essence of your unioned sex feels cold while sliding down your inner thighs.

"Haaaaah...Mmmm, thank you, Toji." You whimper out as he lays kisses down your neck and shoulders. "Thank you..."

But little did you know that it wasn't the last of it. Before you could apprehend what was going on, Toji already had you flipped over to your back, stationing your legs on his shoulders to a mating press. And you see that his cock is not limp yet...

W-Wait a damn second—

"T-Toji, wait, hold on!" You try to rationalize with the man who aligns his shaft to your gushing vulva, and your sweat runs cold. "It's getting late. I just came three times already! We should—Nmmmph!!"

The head of his cock slides right in thanks to the slick and come lubricating your opening. Adding his weight onto you as he pushes his length deep into your chasm again, you cry choked sobs when he meets your cervix again, and his pelvis rubs against your clitoris. "Sorry, mama. Just lemme finish here, 'kay? Daddy missed havin' you like this, so I wanna give you all of me while I still can."

...who has your fatigued self lying on his chest, rubbing circles on your back and placing soft kisses on your forehead as you feel the effects of sleep slowly creep up on you. The lights are now off, the moonlight bargaining from the curtains being the only light source as you two are ready to gather whatever amount of sleep you can get.

"Hey, baby." But before that, Toji wants your attention for the last time before you sleep.

"Mhmm?" Your eyes are closed, but your ears are still open to listen.

His eyes drift down to the left hand that lays motionless on his chest. The gem on the ring flashes softly for it to be distinguishable. "How come you were wearin' your ring at the club?"

A few seconds go by before you give him the honest truth. "Same reason you wear yours. I always wear it when going out somewhere or alone someplace. Gives people the idea that I'm not ready for anyone else."

"Then why not wear it when I'm around?"

You giggle breathlessly. "Same reason why you don't let me see yours. I don't need a ring when I have you with me. A ring doesn't compare to my big man who will love and protect me wherever we go."

And Toji doesn't ask anything else after that. He lets you fall asleep in his arms and listens to your breathing follow a melodic rhythm. Your words stick with him even when his eyes close, and he soon falls into a deep sleep.

It's far-fetched to think that you two will be married again. Maybe it's possible in his dreams, but not in the real world. Regardless, Toji knows he will always stand beside you and be there for you. With or without a ring that's merely evidence of your love to outsiders. He knows you love him, and that's all he needs to keep moving. And if he could have you as his wife again, he'd sweep you off your feet in a heartbeat.

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anna-hawk · 26 days

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Dexterity

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: You're having some quality time on your own when Frank pays you an unexpected visit.

Explicit 🔞 • WC: 4,1k

Tags and warnings: masturbation, finger fucking, teasing, praise kink, hand & finger kink, dirty talk

Always time for Coffee series

⚠️ If you follow me on AO3, this is NOT a new fic! ⚠️

A/N: This month will mark five years since I posted my very first Frank x Reader fic. I made a small post for the series a few years back, but never a dedicated one for the first ever fic. After the news and pics of getting Frank back today, even if it's only for a small role, I was thinking back to the time I got first inspired to write and actually post something for once. It's been quite the journey since then and this series has now 16 parts, but most importantly, this fic played a big part in me joining the beautiful fandom that I've been a part of these past 4 years and getting me to meet incredible people. So I figured, let's be nostalgic and officially post it on here too.

Ever since meeting Frank Castle, you’ve been obsessed with his hands.

You know they have killed numerous people and could do cruel things to the ones deserving it, but you also know how kind and gentle they can be. When he would come to your shop as Pete, you’d seen how he would talk to one of your employees' kid, the boy having always had a short fuse, and manage to calm the boy down by simply putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The couple of times when he’d handled the fragile elements of your ice cream maker while repairing it with those deft hands had also shown how gentle they could be.

Yeah, you really have a thing for his hands and the guy himself.

The first time you'd met him, you'd met Pete Castiglione the construction worker, who’d been visiting your Café for the first time. You had followed the whole Punisher debacle on TV and had been very intrigued by the man’s story. Yet even though you'd thought that Pete looked familiar, it had taken you a few weeks of him coming in every other day and helping you out with an electrical problem, to realize who had actually been hiding under all this wild hair and beard. That had been the first time you had come into contact with his hands, too. He had taken off his baseball cap, looked at you to ask where the problem was while standing really close to you, and something in his expression had finally made it click inside you. You'd breathed out, “Frank Castle,” in stunned realization a moment later. In the next second, he'd had you by your throat and against the opposite wall, asking who’d sent you. You had been so startled that you’d just started laughing at the absurdity of you being able to hurt him. Okay, so maybe not really laughed as much as choked, since he’d had his fingers squeezing rather hard around your windpipe. But you'd managed to wheeze out your thoughts, and he'd released you enough for you to tell him why and how you had recognized him. He’d deemed you trustworthy enough, apparently, because he'd let go of you and apologized for overreacting.

You had promised him that you would never tell anyone about him that same evening.

As weeks passed, and he’d still come by your Café, you'd managed to build a rather close friendship. After a while, though, you'd noticed that he was coming by less and less until he stopped coming altogether, making you worried. Finally, after the day everyone had found out that Frank Castle was still alive through live TV, he'd come to your shop when you were closing. You had been even more scared for him since the news and beyond relieved to see him unscathed. You had been touched to learn that he’d wanted to make sure that no one had found out that you knew about him and come to hurt you to get to him. He'd also told you that he would have to lie low for a while. You'd suggested that he should come to your place and hide there. He had declined, too worried about what could happen to you. Still, as you'd accepted his concern, you'd told him that he could come to yours whenever he needed to, no matter the time of the day or the night. You had never been more glad about giving him your address because weeks later, he had come to hide for the night and had done so several nights until the whole thing with Billy Russo had been over.

Nowadays, he still shows up every now and again. Mostly nights because he has some business to take care of, or just to say hi. You both grab a drink (mostly coffee) and chat. You enjoy his company a lot. Okay, more than a lot. You’ve had a thing for the Punisher even before meeting Frank, but since knowing the man himself, you couldn’t help being attracted to Frank and his beautiful large hands and agile fingers. Among other things. You don't know where he stands with romantic or even only physical relationships considering his past, but you do kind of flirt with one another. You know that Frank likes you a lot; otherwise he wouldn’t come to see you regularly. But even if you want him, badly, you feel that it’s more like bantering to him and nothing more.

That doesn’t stop you from dreaming or fantasizing about him and the filthy things that you’d love him to do to you or you to him, though. And that's actually exactly what you’re doing right now. You’re lying on your bed, the sheets tangled around your legs, one hand inside your sleeping shorts while your breaths come harder and faster. You’ve been teasing yourself for what feels like an hour, fingers alternating between circling your clit languidly and pushing three deep into you to mimic the size of two of his, getting yourself closer and closer to one spectacular orgasm. You’ve got your eyes closed, face flushed, bottom lip between your teeth, while your middle finger is rubbing faster and faster over your slippery clit. Harsh breaths leave you as you picture Frank spreading you wide with his fingers and whispering dirty nothings into your ear. You’re right there, on the brink, ready to fall, when there’s a resounding knock at your door.

You yelp in surprise and flinch so hard that you nearly hit yourself in the face with how fast you remove your hand from between your legs. You’re trying to get your bearings back, your body still trembling from being strung high for so long and not getting what it wants, when there is another knock. You groan in frustration and get up on wobbly legs to go check on who wants to see you so badly at that time of night. You look through the peephole and gasp when you see Frank’s face. He'd been here only last week, and he usually shows up only once a month at best, so you’re completely thrown when you open your door to the smirking man.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greets in his signature gruff and deep voice, upper body pressed lazily against the door jamb.

He’s looking calm and carrying no signs of a recent fight. Meaning that this isn’t an emergency call. Good. He’s wearing dark jeans and a charcoal Henley with his usual combat boots, three days worth of stubble on his face. He looks mouthwatering, and you valiantly try not to let anything show on your face.

“Was in the neighborhood visitin' Curtis and thought I could come check on you too. Sorry it’s so late,” he continues, confirming your earlier thoughts on there being no immediate danger.

“You’ve come by way later, Frank,” you remind him with a snort and motion for him to follow you inside.

You notice that your voice came out a bit strained, and hope that he doesn’t see how your knees are still shaking after the near orgasm and the effect his unexpected presence has on you. Well, turns out that you’re out of luck.

“You okay there?” He asks, as he follows you into the kitchen.

You groan inside, of course he noticed. You still try to play it off.

“What? Of course, I’m okay.” You hate how your laugh sounds off. You’re usually better at faking stuff like that.

“Yeah?” he says, coming to stand right before you to give you a once over. “'cause you’re all flushed and breathin' kinda hard.” He even lifts one hand to feel your temperature, but you dodge it and turn to the sink, reaching over it to get two coffee mugs out of a cupboard. Anything to avoid him see you blush even more.

“I’m fine, Frank, don’t worry… Coffee?” You desperately hope that he’s going to let it go. You need to put yourself back together and slow your breathing.

“Can never refuse your coffee.”

You breathe a small sigh of relief when he seems to accept your answer and smile at how fond he sounds of your coffee making skills. You’re about to reach for the coffee beans when he says, “Seriously, though, am I makin' you this nervous or what's goin' on?”

You put your hands back down and groan in defeat, hanging your head.

“Could you just let it go, Frank? Please?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and you don’t turn around to look at him while you wait.

“Did I interrupt somethin'?” He finally says, amusement clear in his voice. Damn him and his perceptiveness.

You hide your face in your hands and whimper in embarrassment.

“Oh God, just shut up, Frank!” Your voice is muffled by your hands. He barks out a laugh, making you lower your hands again. “You’re such a jerk.”

“Hey, hey, `s okay Sweetheart, there’s nothin' to be embarrassed about,” he tells you gently, though you can tell that he’s still grinning, the bastard.

“Yes well…” You still refuse to turn around, even though you can hear him move closer behind you.

“'could always show me, y'know,” he says, and even though the words hit you to the core because the thought alone sends a new wave of deep arousal through you, you can’t place his tone.

That's why you do the only thing that comes to mind and gasp, turning around to backhand him in the chest and play into the joke.

“Oh, fuck you, asshole.”

You meet his eyes and see that there’s something there, lying just under the teasing glint. You suck in a breath, holding it in, while your heart beats a nervous tattoo against your rib cage.

“Or… I could help 'course,” he finally says, voice low, after what feels like minutes and not seconds, his piercing eyes never leaving yours.

You stare at him, still barely daring to breathe. The idea of him helping you out nearly sends you to your knees. Eventually, you exhale in a snort because come on, he doesn’t mean it, and go back to facing the counter, taking the coffee beans out of the cupboard.

“Yeah, right… Let’s get back to that coffee, yeah?” Bonus points for sounding offhand.

You hear him taking another step and then see his hands coming to rest on the counter, one on each side of you, effectively caging you in. His voice is a rough whisper against your left ear, making you gasp.

“Is that a no?”

Your hands, now inches apart from Frank’s, are gripping the marble beneath them, hard. You close your eyes and swallow.

“Don’t play games with me, Frank.” Your voice goes deeper and colder in warning. You might not expect anything romantic-wise from him, but you won’t be made a fool of.

“‘m not playin', Baby.”

To confirm his words, he glides his nose along your nape and bites you lightly on the juncture between neck and shoulder.

You moan, all need. That nickname. He's never used it before, but it does something to you. Babe you’ve never liked. But Baby? The way Frank says it, just gets to you. You incline your head to the side, a silent surrender, and feel him grin against your skin. Your eyes are closed so that you don’t see his right hand leave the counter, but feel it settle on your hip and slowly glide down your thigh to the hem of your shorts. To your dismay, his mouth leaves your neck.

“Spread your legs for me, Sweetheart,” he rumbles into your ear.

You oblige instantly, parting your legs and leaning slightly forward to accommodate him. Frank hums in approval. You can feel his fingers on your skin now, just beneath the hem of your shorts, slowly making their way under your right butt cheek and to your center, the touch light and measured. How is it that he's barely touching you and making your breathing speed up again? You try to relax your hands because you’re still gripping the hard kitchen surface like crazy; anything to anchor you. But Frank chooses that moment to push the short’s to the side, hooking it between your ass cheeks and the left side of your outer lips, to grant him easier access. One large finger slides through your still wet folds. One lazy pass through your slit and up to your clit, and your hands lock into place again, a harsh gasp leaving your mouth.

“Shit, already so fuckin’ wet, huh? Guess I did interrupt somethin' good.”

You say nothing, you can’t right now.

Frank keeps up his slow and torturous pace, sometimes staying over your clit and circling it with a featherlight touch that has you nearly screaming in frustration. You try to get a bit more pressure by pushing down on his finger every time he does this, but he just goes back to teasing your slit. Your arms are trembling from the strain, and you murmur a nearly silent plea for more. He seems to hear you though because he chuckles kindly and applies enough pressure for you to moan in satisfaction for a few seconds, before he stops again, too soon. When you fantasize about him, you usually picture him as the teasing kind of lover, but your imagination could never have reached this level.

“Tell me… What you been thinkin' about earlier?”

You’re kind of put out to hear that his voice is still steady, so you decide on the truth. In for a penny and all that.

“You,” you breathe softly.

His movements stop, and you’re satisfied with his reaction, when you realize that you might have overshared. His hand is moving again a moment later, and he growls deep in his throat. He presses his chest to your back, left hand coming up from the counter to grab your jaw and pull it to the side to press biting kisses into your neck and shoulder, making you keen.

“Me, huh? Fuck, now I really want ya to show me sometime…,” he pants roughly into your neck, index finger rubbing tighter and harder over you. “And what was I doin’?”

You have to concentrate to answer him, the pressure on your clit so delicious now. Your voice ends up breaking on each word.

“Something… like… that…”

“Something?”

“Finger-fucking… me.”

He inhales sharply, and you feel him adjust his position behind you, his clothed erection brushing against your ass for a second.

“Something like that?”

Two of his large fingers plunge deep into you, filling you to the brim. You cry out in bliss and go up on your tiptoes for a second as your body rises. Your back bows backward, resulting in your head coming to rest on his shoulder, while your eyes close, and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Fuck, you feel so good for me, Baby,” he groans into your temple. He withdraws slightly before pushing back all the way in, setting a steady rhythm as the way his name keeps falling from your lips keeps him going.

The hand on your jaw slackens after a while and travels down your neck, over your collarbone and a covered nipple. He’s stroking down your belly and to the junction of your thighs before he finally stops directly over your clit. He rolls it between index and thumb with just the right amount of too much and not enough pressure, or flicks quickly over it repeatedly to keep you on your toes and not know what to expect next. The rhythm of his two hands are completely different. Where his left hand is teasing you slowly but mercilessly, his right hand still has two fingers fucking you fast and deep, making you whimper brokenly. His fingers feel absolutely incredible, yet you know that it’s to keep you on the edge of release. You love and hate it at the same time. The dual sensation has you removing your head from his shoulder to take your weight with your hands on the counter again, leaning forward a bit more to push your ass out and give him even better access.

Frank grunts his approval and keeps up the pace. You feel him resting his forehead on the nape of your neck.

“Holy shit, girl, look at ya takin' my fingers so perfectly,” he says gruffly. You squeeze down on said fingers at the praise, resulting in a groan of appreciation from him.

Eventually, no matter how long he’d intended to keep you on the brink, you’ve been strung so high for so long, that your orgasm is building inexorably, your body ready to crash back down again. His continuous praise is speeding it up as well. Your legs start to shake and a light sheen of sweat is covering your skin. Your harsh breaths are intermingled with moans and gasps of please mores and yesyesyes.

“Frank, please,” you beg one last time. “Please!”

“I gotcha, Sweetheart,” Frank answers finally and starts upping his pace on your clit.

“Yes!” you hiss, elated.

But Frank is apparently not completely done with you because he removes his two fingers from inside you, only to push back but with a third one, this time. You can only cry out in surprise and deep pleasure as he gives you half a second to adjust, before he starts an intense rhythm again. You’ve never felt this full with only fingers, and you can now feel as your release starts curling hotter and tighter in your belly.

“F-f-f-frank, I’m so, so close,” you manage to breathe out.

Frank keeps a litany of words spilling out of his mouth against your neck, “So fuckin' perfect for me” and, “Takin' me so beautifully”.

Suddenly, you're right there again, just like before, ready to take the leap. You feel the shivers running through your whole body and centering where Frank is rubbing tighter and tighter circles. Frank lifts his head from yours and growls deeply into your ear. “Now come for me, Baby. Come on my fingers.”

“Oh fuck, Frank!” You mewl, high-pitched, and that’s it. Everything in you snaps at his words. The intensity of this so long to come orgasm hits you like a freight train driven by Frank Castle. Your body curves back against his, your head back on his shoulder, facing his neck. Your hold on the kitchen worktop becomes deadly again after having slackened somewhat, and you cry out in pure, unadulterated bliss. You dimly feel Frank stopping the fingers inside you and taking them out to circle your waist and push you even more back against him. His focus is on his left hand, index finger still stroking your bud with intense precision, prolonging your release.

As you’re slowly coming down, your body begins to tremble and Frank tightens his hold on you to prevent your knees from giving out on you. You finally release the worktop, fingers a bit stiff, and put them over Frank’s arm to hold on to. His finger hasn’t stop working you, though, and while it’s sending you nice aftershocks, which have you jerking and gasping against him, you finally reach down with one hand to grab his wrist to stop his movements and rest it against your waist with the other.

“Too much,” you mumble into his throat.

You stand like that for a while, both not saying anything while you try to get your breathing back under control. As the seconds trickle by, and you process the last fifteen minutes, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and escapes your lips.

“What?” Frank asks, and you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“That was so not what I was expecting from your visit… Not that I mind, of course,” you grin, all relaxed limbs and all.

Frank chuckles, “‘m a man full of surprises.”

You reach down to tug at your shorts and make yourself presentable again, and snicker.

“That you are,” you say and turn around in his arms to look at him, your hands coming to rest on his strong chest.

Your heart misses a beat when you see his face. He’s a bit flushed, and he’s still breathing rather deeply, but it’s his eyes that capture your full attention. They are still dark with arousal, the gaze intense and fixed on yours. Frank’s lips break out in a smirk as he catches you staring. You swallow and clear your throat as you finally take in the hard outline of his dick against your body. You’re about to open your mouth to inquire about it, but he beats you to it.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it, Sweetheart.”

“But-”

“‘m good,” he cuts in again, kissing your temple to take the sting out of his rebuttal before letting go of you.

You stay quiet and lean back against the counter as you nod vaguely. Frank takes a few steps backwards away from you, one hand coming up to rake through his hair and down his neck in a nervous gesture. He doesn’t look at you, so you decide to break the silence. You’re still floating on your high a bit and don’t want things to get uncomfortable between you two.

“So… coffee?”

You see him take a small breath and look back at you with a smile. His eyes are kind but unreadable, like they so often are when he’s thinking about something.

“Yeah, I’d like that, thanks.”

You smile and get back to grab the things you need, Frank going to sit on the couch. The silence is only broken by the coffee grinder for a small while. Your apartment is one large space with an open kitchen that gives on a big living area. A comfortable couch and a coffee table, that are framed by two armchairs, face a flat screen TV and huge floor to ceiling windows. Your bedroom with en suite bathroom is on the opposite side from the kitchen. You adore this place. From where you’re preparing the two mugs, you only have to turn your head to the left to see Frank sitting on the couch, arms thrown over the back of it, legs spread wide. He stares unblinkingly at the darkness and buildings outside your windows. You bite your lip and sigh softly. Once you’re done, one mug with strong dark coffee for Frank in one hand and in the other one with decaf because you definitely don’t need any more excitement tonight, you make your way over to him.

You walk around the back of the couch to sit at the opposite end, your back resting against the armrest. You extend your hand with Frank’s mug toward him. He blinks down at it for a second before taking the mug. He turns his upper body to face you, and you relax a little more at the half smile, half smirk that he usually wears and that he gives you now.

“Thanks,” he says gratefully and hums in pleasure when he takes his first sip.

“Anytime,” you chuckle warmly. You had been proud to find out that Frank had initially come to your Café because he had heard people talking about the quality of your coffee.

You sit there without saying anything, but this time it’s a comfortable silence, both savoring your drinks.

“So how’s Curtis?” You inquire after several long minutes.

It’s an honest question, but you also want to show Frank that you can still talk like you used to. You’ve never met Curtis, but you’ve heard a lot about him and how he has always been there for Frank. That alone means a lot in your book. You end up talking for a small amount of time, conversation becoming easier, before Frank decides to bid you goodnight. You walk him back to the door, and he envelops you in a hug that you hadn’t been expecting at this point. He kisses you on a temple like he often does, making you smile into his neck fondly before returning the kiss but on one cheek instead.

“Take care,” he rasps into your ear, before letting go of you and opening the door.

“Be careful,” you counter with raised eyebrows and a meaningful look.

Frank chuckles and nods. “I'll see what I can do.”

He walks off to the elevator, which opens for him immediately when he pushes the call button, and steps inside. He lifts a hand in a wave as the doors slide closed in front of him, and then he’s gone.

You close your door and lean against it, heaving a heavy sigh. You don’t really know what to feel right now. You’ve just had one of the most memorable orgasms of your life, but still don’t know where you stand with Frank. If you go back to how things were before tonight, that’s fine with you. You’re kind of afraid that you might have scared him off, but the way he behaved before leaving makes you feel confident enough that you haven’t. The ball is definitely in Frank’s court now. You would have to wait and see.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle #reader insert #the punisher #mes fics #always time for coffee series #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle smut #the punisher fanfiction

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godlygreta · 3 months

Text

god is fair | j. t. kiszka

title | god is fair

word count | 7.7k

warnings | swearing, mentions of alcohol - nothing too terrible... yet ;)

author's note | i've had this in the chamber for some time now, i just lost the inspo to write, which is why i haven't in a long time. this isn't a promise that i'll post more fics as they come to me, seeing as i'm a senior in college who has a fuck ton of other things to do. there will be a part 2 to this fic, but i couldn't tell you when it's coming :)

also, very much so listening to god is fair, sexy nasty by mac miller while writing this & starting the next part, so take that as you will ;)

unedited as hell so pls excuse any mistakes !

You always had this rivalry since the beginning of freshman year. This guy, Jake, would never show up to any of the classes the two of you had together, but always got the highest grades on every single goddamn exam that your Intro to Bio professor gave out. It infuriated you.

You figured that in the spring semester, you would be freed from the disappearing boy, but you weren’t. While the teacher called roll, everyone shouted out here. She landed upon his name, calling out to the class and looking through the rows of students. He had been there for orientation, sitting in one of the middle rows, slouched in his seat.

You planned to confront him the next day you had class together, on Wednesday, but Jake was nowhere to be found. Your roommate and your friends had heard your exhaustive theories as to why he was never in class. “Babe, you sound insane. Just let it go.”

But you couldn’t.

Competition lived deep within your roots, having an entire competition with the second top student in your graduating class in high school. Though the rage held between each other was never taken far outside of the academic realm, the two of you never thought to be friends and encourage one another. Thankfully, the two of you resolved the competition when the two of you realized you would be going into two very separate fields of study in college.

Camren, who knew she was going to be a chemist from the time she first learned about chemistry, had told you she loved the competition – made it fun and kept things interesting. And there you were, going to school for Pre-Med with the same feeling. The two of you kept in contact, updating each other on the strive for greatness in college as well.

You kept a close relationship with a lot of your teachers, making sure to get on their good side before classes had really begun. You emailed most of them, especially your Anatomy and Physiology professor, Dr. Sahnya Heinz.

She was incredibly skilled in her field, leaving the active medical field to teach the new and future minds of medicine. It was a cliche line she delivered on the first day, but it encouraged that familiar competitive fire that dwelled within you.

You don’t quite remember how you came to figure out that Jake was ahead of you, but you had found out somehow from your professor, although it was an accident.

It made everything in you burn with anger and frustration. Anytime someone mentioned him, or mentioned the fact that you were second, you clenched your jaw and your teeth gritted together. Your friends had an inside joke that you were only mad because you had a huge crush on him.

“I barely even know what he looks like, Mel! I fucking hate the guy. Don’t start shit.” You’d plead, beer can in your hand in the lounge of some fraternity floor.

Over the next few semesters, you kept trying your hardest, spending most of your free time in the library, reading everything that you could to prepare for every exam. You wrote papers early, having them done at least three weeks in advance. As soon as you would be told about a new one, you’d immediately start finding sources.

You sauntered around campus, thinking that you would be way ahead of him. He still never showed up to any classes, aside from orientation and exam periods. You’d stare at him for a few moments while the teacher passed out the exam, looking over his face as much as you could.

His long hair would obscure your vision on occasion, making it hard to catch any of his features at all. From what you could see though, he had nice, full lips. His nose was something you could have stared at the entire exam period.

You watched him as he licked his lips, whispering a thank you to Heinz before grabbing his pencil from his desk and getting to work. You looked away from him as soon as Heinz put your exam on your desk, offering her a small smile and a quick thank you before getting to work.

It was almost spring break, meaning some of your assignments had been slowing, some of them had been increasing. A group of your friends from different majors told you about one of the lounge parties a fraternity on campus was throwing. “Sigma Tau has the worst lounge parties, Tamia. You know this.”

“They’re joining forces with the Delta’s though, so it’ll be better than normal! You have to come, you’ve always got your nose in a book. You haven’t drank with us in so long, I forget what you’re like when you’re drunk.”

“I don’t know… I need to work on this Midterm paper I have in Kainz’s class, it’s due next week.”

“Babe, it’s been done for weeks! You just keep editing it trying to find mistakes and there are none! I’ve literally read it five times. Please, go out with us, just tonight?”

You looked between Tamia and Mel, knowing in the end you would give into them anyways. “Ugh, fine! Tonight, and tonight only, just this once. If I don’t like it, though, I’m leaving and going to bed early.”

“You’ll have so much fun, I swear!” Mel and Tamia looked between each other, sharing expressions of excitement and happiness on their faces. You rolled your eyes, standing up from your chair.

You let them raid your closet, trying to throw something together quickly. Most of the time, Tamia and Mel never obeyed the dress code for the lounge parties, hating the idea of giving into the male gaze of the fraternity brothers. Tonight, however, was a bit different. The theme was Western, meaning it was cowboy hats and very tiny shorts.

You looked over the outfit that laid out in front of you, straw cowboy hat that Tamia had bought from Amazon (one for each of you), a pair of short shorts that may or may not show your ass a bit, and a red bandana top that Mel let you borrow last semester that you forgot to return. “I don’t know about this. I don’t even have the right shoes.”

“You forget we wear the same size, bitch, you’re going. No backing out.” They joked, tossing you a pair of white boots. “Just put that shit on while we heat up the curling iron, okay?”

“Fine, fine, okay.” You peel off your shirt, throwing on the one they picked out. Next to go were your pajama pants, which were replaced by the shorts. You kept the same socks on, knowing that nobody would see them anyways with the boots going up to the middle of your calf muscle. “I look fucking ridiculous.”

“You look fucking hot, now sit down while we do your hair and makeup,” Mel spoke, pulling out your desk chair while Tamia smiled wickedly with the curling wand in hand. You were nervous, looking at the both of them, but the good kind that settled under your skin and was left hidden behind the smallest smile.

You talked about upcoming exams with them while they did your hair and makeup, much to their dismay. They attempted to fill you in on the various drama situations going on around campus while you had been heavily plugged into your textbooks. You gasped often, finding shock and awe in some of the things they had been telling you about classmates.

They spoke about Jake, letting it slip that he had been planning on attending the party, joined at the hip with one of the girls he had been rumored to have been dating. One of the many. “Ugh, he just sounds like a douche. Gives me even more reason to hate him.”

“We’re not feeding into your delusion that he’s some douchebag. Dropping it.” Tamia spoke, putting her hands up in a surrender. Mel laughed, pulling away from you with an eyeliner pen in hand. “Maybe we’ll get you drunk enough to admit you like him.”

“I don’t like him, and I thought we were dropping the topic.” You looked at Tamia in the mirror, watching her face deadpan as she looked back at you.

“I have something hot in my hands, don’t be rude to me.” The three of you laughed, getting back into the rhythm of getting ready. You let them do their thing to you, curling the last bit of your hair and putting the finishing touches of highlighter on your brow bone.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, marveling at the job they did. You thanked them for getting you all dolled up, watching them change into their outfits. It was mostly just them taking off the sweats they were wearing, throwing them over the back of your desk chair. You took a few pictures with them in your mirror before finally deciding to head out.

The party had started a half an hour ago, walking into the party late like most people did. The three of you got in easily with matching the dress code, immediately looking for the drinks table. The boys in charge handed the three of you a free shot of anything you wanted. Mel chose for you, starting the night out roughly with a shot of Svedka.

You grabbed a Sprite from one of the boys in one hand, the shot of Svedka in the other. The three of you tapped your glasses together before downing the shot. The alcohol burned as it slipped down your throat, trying to soothe it with the taste and coolness of the Sprite. You shook a bit, throwing the cup away in a nearby trash can.

“That was fucking gross, I hate you so much for choosing Svedka.”

“I could’ve chosen something even more nasty, like Jack.” Mel laughed, leading the three of you over to a section in the lounge where you could stand a decent enough distance away from one another, instead of being piled on top of one another.

“I would have rather taken a shot of Jack, Mel.” You spoke, sipping more of your Sprite. Tamia pointed out a few of the people they had talked about earlier, letting you put names to faces.

In the midst, two of the Sigma brothers decided to start a dance battle, capturing the attention of those around them. Everyone joined in, gathering around the two guys. Mel and Tamia joined too, but you had slipped out of their grasp by telling them you had to use the bathroom.

You were happy to escape the party, sneaking out with a bottle of Smirnoff the boys had left unattended. You walked outside, taking a deep breath in. You were thankful to be met with the smell of fresh air, not smelling sweat and booze everywhere. Your peace and tranquility was ruined by someone’s voice, “Well, don’t you look adorable.”

Your head snapped towards the voice, seeing Jake sitting up against the bike rack with a cigarette between his fingers. “Shut up.”

“What? I can’t compliment you?”

“No,” you started, crossing your arms with the bottle still in your hand. “No, you can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I hate you.” Jake looked at you, up and down, taking a drag of his cigarette. You screwed off the cap of the bottle, taking a pull. You tried your hardest to not make a face, looking away slightly when the familiar sting settled in your throat.

“Why do you hate me? I’ve never spoken to you before.”

“Do I have to have a reason?” You asked, walking closer to him.

“Suppose not. But if I knew why you hated me,” he tossed his cigarette butt on the ground, stomping on it with his boot. “Then maybe I could find a way to make you not hate me.”

“Unless you flunk your next exam, I guarantee that won’t happen.”

“Oh, I get it.” He chuckled, standing up from the bike rack he was leaning against. He grabbed his cigarette butt up from the ground, tossing it into the nearest garbage can. He turned towards you, staring at you with his brown eyes. “You’re just mad because I’m smarter than you.”

“You’re never in class. You shouldn’t be ahead of me.” You glared at him, lips moving into a frown.

“Just because I’m never there doesn’t mean I’m not getting the information. I work five, sometimes six days a week. We only have class three days a week. Typically, I gotta work those days. Heinz sends me the powerpoints and the assignment notes so I never miss anything.”

“Oh yeah? Where do you even work then?” You asked.

He chuckled, fingers brushing yours that were wrapped around the bottle. “Now if I told you that, it would ruin all the fun,” he looked you up and down once more, licking his lips slightly. “Well, maybe I’ll see you and your bottle inside.”

You waited til the doors closed behind him to roll your eyes, and huff outwardly. You took the bottle of Smirnoff, turned on your heels and walked towards your dorm hall. You hated Jake. You really hated Jake.

—

Your midterms came and went. The stress decreased slightly, but only to be raised again as the end of the semester loomed around. Assignments started piling up, various papers and presentations due all around the same week. Since the end of Spring Break, you had been holed up in your room, left to your mountains of homework.

Your Microbio class had a presentation due that coincided with the research project you had been working on all semester long. Human Anatomy and Physiology (or affectionately known as BIO 312) had a major cumulative exam on the entire semester, which stressed you out more than any other homework assignment or exam you had.

Thankfully, your school held an all day event that attempted to boost the morale of the students on campus. Filled with a bunch of free things, you took advantage of everything offered.

Lined up on tables were various student organizations set up, with their own little games and prizes. A few of them had speakers that played the music they wanted to listen to, all speakers attempting to outman the other. However, the one that ended up winning was a tie dye station located in the lawn, handing out free t-shirts to dye.

One of the guys at the tie dye station had a wide smile on his face while his hands were dripping with dye. Setting your prizes down at a table where Tamia and Mel had put their things, you walked over to him. He welcomed you over with a smile, “Hey! Lookin’ to tie dye?”

“Yeah, I’m a medium.” You smiled at him, blocking the sun with your hand. He called over to Benny, asking him to pull a medium out for you. Benny handed you the shirt with a smile. “I’ve never dyed anything before.”

“Never?! That’s a crime against mankind, darlin’, let’s get this shirt dyed.” He spoke, talking you over the colors in each of the buckets. He explained to you some basic color theory, although you had remembered that from your high school painting class, you didn’t stop him; he was pretty when he spoke.

The curls on his head stuck out from the shaved sides, the gold of his earrings stood out underneath the blistering April sun. He licked his lips often, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat from his forehead. He helped you pick out the style you wanted, making sure the rubber bands were placed exactly where you wanted them. “I’ll dip them in the bucket for you so you don’t get your hands dirty.”

“Thank you. I could’ve managed on my own, but I definitely appreciate it.”

“Of course. What’s your name?” You offer up to him, before he lets out a chuckle. You question him with a pull of your eyebrows. “Jake talks about you.”

“You know Jake?”

“Yeah, he’s my twin.” As soon as the word left his mouth, you could see the resemblance; you almost scolded yourself for not realizing it sooner. They were similar, especially in their features and their eyes, although the two of them had very distinct color differences. Josh, as he told you after dropping the bomb on you, had warmer eyes, filled with caramel colored hues of brown in relation to Jake’s colder tones; his eyes were a darker shade of brown, with the occasional gleam of flirtation laced within the reflection.

He spoke quite differently from Jake, mostly just with the sound of his voice. It matched their eyes, their personalities. Josh’s bright, bubbly stature followed in his voice, almost theatrical as he spoke. “I guess that makes sense, you two do kind of look alike. Minus the hair, of course.”

“Well, of course. Mine’s better,” you liked that about him - how kind his tone was. You attempted to grill him about what Jake was saying about you, curiosity flowing violently through your bloodstream as if it lit your body on fire. “He just says that you’re second in the Bio class you have with him, and that it makes you mad.”

“It does, Jake’s never there. I’ve seen him three times, and two of those times were for exams.” Josh wrung out the part that had been soaking in the dye for a bit, watching the water fall back into the bucket.

“Yeah, it’s cause he’s working all the time, if I’m honest. Jake stays home during the week to work at the nursing home in our hometown. We don’t really have a large CNA population, most of the people who work there are highschool kids, so Jake’s really been their guy. Especially since high school, as soon as he graduated he moved to full time. All the old ladies love him.” He snorts, dipping your shirt into the blue dye.

“I didn’t know that.” You thought he was lying about where he was, which is why guilt started to eat away at you. You felt terrible for making assumptions, but you couldn’t take any of that back now.

“Jake doesn’t talk to a lot of people, but we love him anyway.” You chewed at your bottom lip, rethinking your opinion of Jake. “You goin’ to the concert later tonight?”

“Hadn’t decided. Mel and Tamia want to, so I’ll probably end up going. Are you?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll probably go.”

“Do you know who’s playing?”

“Some local band I think? I’ve heard a lot of the girls think the frontman’s pretty handsome.” He spoke with a smirk. You promised him you’d go, just to see if the girls had been right. He handed you your t-shirt to hold while he grabbed you a plastic bag. He also handed you a piece of paper with instructions on how to take care of your new tie dye.

“Make sure when you wash it, you wash it by itself. Otherwise, you’ll dye all of your other clothes and believe me, you don’t want that,” he chuckled, as if he was speaking from experience.

You thanked him with a warm smile, waving to him before returning to your room. As soon as you got back, you opened your window, allowing the air flow to travel inside. It kept you cool, allowing you to walk around comfortably with a t-shirt and shorts on. You put your plastic bag in the closet of your room, writing on your white board to remember to take it out and wash it tomorrow.

You texted Mel and Tamia, knowing that Mel would probably have some smart comeback about why you want to go to the concert. It wasn’t that you didn’t join them on nights out, you just had a lot riding on your academic success. Not only because you were the first one in your family to go to college, but also because of your mass of scholarships that only continued to flow if your GPA was at a suitable level. Anything below a 3.2, and you would lose almost all of them.

To: The 3 Dumb Sluts

Are we going to the concert tonight?

From: The 3 Dumb Sluts - Mel

Are you offering to come with us without us needing to beg and plead for you to join?

To: The 3 Dumb Sluts

Don’t make me take it back, Mel

From: The 3 Dumb Sluts - Tamia

We’re absolutely going. Come to mine whenever you want to get ready :)

To: The 3 Dumb Sluts

The doors open at 8 right? I’ll be over about 5:30-6ish. Gotta finish up this paper for Heinz real quick

You locked your phone before they could scold you for doing homework on a day that was designated for relaxation and recuperation. You pulled out your Anat and Physio binder, pulling out the sources you printed off in the library. You ran through the last one with a blue highlighter between your teeth.

You set an alarm on your phone for five o’clock, saving enough time for you to shower. You were about halfway through the last page when your timer went off. You silenced it, attempting to hurriedly finish highlighting the page. The article was placed onto your desk, highlighter returned to the cup on your desk filled with various writing utensils.

You pulled out your shower caddy, putting it on top of your dresser before pulling out your robe. You laid it over the edge of your bed, removing all of your clothes. You threw them into your hamper and put on your robe. You slipped on your slides, grabbed your caddy and traveled to the bathroom.

Underneath the uneven streams from the showerhead, you thought about Jake.

Maybe your first impressions of him were wrong. When Josh told you about the nursing home back in their hometown, you felt instantaneously bad for assuming that he just never showed up. You knew from what Jake had told you, that he had work, but you figured that was just an excuse.

You bit at the skin of your lips, hands on your shoulders as you soaked the warmth of the water in. You were pulled out of your thoughts very quickly as someone flushed the toilet, making the water fade in from super hot to super fucking cold. You hated the school’s water system.

You finished your shower quickly, drying off with the towel slightly before putting your robe on and throwing your hair up into your towel. You walked back into your room, locking it behind you. You set your caddy back where it originally was.

You threw on a pair of jean shorts that hadn’t seen the light of day since early October, pairing it with a long sleeve shirt that you had gotten back in high school for Christmas. It was plain, brown, but hugged your body well. The sweatshirt debate lasted a few seconds before you remembered how hot it was going to be outside. A record temperature for mid-April, almost 80 degrees outside.

When you checked your phone getting back from the shower, it was just barely five thirty. You texted the groupchat again, asking if it would be cool to come over a half an hour earlier than you had originally said. You knew it was a dumb question, you would always be welcome in their room. You chuckled at Mel’s response of, “Are you fucking dumb? Of course you can come over. Bring wine if you have any left! No carry-in’s allowed at the concert.”

You put your phone down for a second and slipped on a pair of shoes that were comfortable enough for you to stand in for a long time. They used to be white, but had gotten progressively dirty from the years of use. You shoved your phone in your back pocket and slid a few different bottles of wine into your backpack, separated by extra clothing so the bottles didn’t clink together.

You walked down the stairs, out the door and over to the other dorm building across the walkway. You scanned your keycard to get into the building, walking through the hallways waving to the RA on duty, McKenna. She had been in a few of your classes and was always incredibly nice.

Her room this year was actually a few down from where you were living. McKenna was a great RA, knowing exactly how to handle the rowdiness of the floor while still keeping the resident’s respect. She didn’t bother them unless she needed to, and they didn’t bother her unless needed. She kept it underwraps about the underage drinking that would inevitably happen, mostly by telling the floor they could do what they want, as long as they were quiet by quiet hours (which was around ten thirty on the weekdays, and one in the morning on the weekends).

You took the elevator to the second floor of East Sunderland, getting off as soon as the doors opened. The booths that had previously been up had begun to dissipate, bringing the plastic tables back into the buildings they belonged in. You took a last glance at the people cleaning before heading into Mel and Tamia’s dorm building.

You knocked on the door, coming as soon as you announced yourself to Mel and Tamia. The girls laughed as you walked in, looking at a picture of Mel from when they were a kid. The two of them showed it to you as you settled your bag onto Mel’s chair in the corner of their room. “Your buck teeth! Oh my God, you were adorable, Mel.”

“Oh shut up, I bet you didn’t look any better.” Mel spoke to Tamia, making the three of you laugh. “Anyways, what wine did you bring?”

“The Barefoot we didn’t finish the other weekend, and then I still had some Rose, so I brought those over too. I wasn’t sure what we were feeling.” Tamia pulled some glasses from her shelves, passing them out to the two of you. You filled their glasses with the Rose you brought.

The three of you talked specifics on the plans for tonight, hitting up another fraternity party as soon as the concert ended. There were two separate ones going on at the same time, so the two of you weighed your options over which one to go to. “The Sigs are throwing one, but I’d rather die. Delta’s throwing one, too, we’ll go to theirs instead. And maybe see if anyone’s at the Sig party that we like and stop there before heading back to the dorms.”

You walked down with them to the Athletic Department, hoping to have gotten there early enough to get a good spot. As soon as the doors opened, you were filtered through the doors, making sure that you were students with the college. The three of you half ran to the barricade, settling yourselves against it on the right side, although still somewhat in the middle.

The show wouldn’t start for quite some time yet, the three of you talked amongst yourselves about upcoming finals, what you had to do for various classes. You also found a few people around you to chat to while you waited, hearing laughter roaring through various parts of the crowd.

A few students from the Admissions Office had taken the stage, playing a random playlist of music that matched what the band was going to be playing. Rock thundered through the speakers, filling audience members with anticipation. Rochel addressed the student body, “Hello everyone!” welcomed by the sounds of cheers and screaming.

“We’ve got about fifteen minutes before the band comes on stage, so help us warm them up to the stage!” Everyone clapped, although some of the girls around you looked unenthused as they stared down at their phones. You checked yours for any text messages from any family members. You had nothing, so you put it back in your pocket.

Around four songs played before Rochel turned the microphone on again. Everyone shouted before she talked. “Well, it’s that time! Please, give a warm welcome to Greta Van Fleet!”

Rochel and the two other students walked off the stage, passing by what you had assumed to be one of the band members. He sat behind the drums, smiling and waving off into the crowd. You cheered for him along with Tamia and Mel, cheering just as loud when their bassist walked onto the stage. Both of their hair was longer, goofy smiles on their faces as they got situated with their instruments.

Your mouth hung open as you watched the last two boys walk on stage, seeing the twins. Jake’s eyes scanned the crowd as he slung his guitar over his shoulder. He found you after a moment, sending a smirk your way. You closed your mouth, glaring at him. Mel laughed at you, noticing your demeanor shift. “How we doin’ tonight everyone?”

Everyone cheered. “A lot of you might know me and Jake, seen us on campus and stuff. It’s wonderful to see all of you here, coming to support us as we celebrate the onslaught of spring! It’s been a particularly warm one today, so make sure to drink water! There’s plenty to go around.”

Jake started them off, pick between his fingers as he strummed the beginning chords to one of their songs. Some of the girls had begun to scream, shouting at Jake’s response to Josh’s little speech before he began playing. His signature smirk formed, watching the girls go crazy, eyes scanning the crowd before he found you again.

As Jake continued to play, he looked over to you any time he could. It was hard to tear your eyes away from him, enthralled by the way he looked on stage. You tried your hardest, truly, to look at any of the other boys on the stage aside from Jake but you just couldn’t. He fit the stage just right, bringing the attention away from Josh and demanding to be seen by the entirety of the crowd. He belonged up there.

Jake went to the center of the stage during his solo. Josh lingered around the drummer, keeping to himself, drinking whatever was in his cup. They kept on playing as Jake took the spotlight, everyone cheering and screaming for him. You kept silent, wanting to hear him play. His fingers worked against the frets of the guitar, not before sliding down and up it quickly.

You tried to hide the awe you were in, but your friends knew. They saw it written all over your face. The frustration and annoyance you felt when you first spotted Jake on stage dissipated the second his guitar solo began. You swallowed thickly, watching as his attention turned from his guitar to you, pointing it in your direction. Your cheeks flushed, and your thighs pressed together.

This was going to be a long night.

The second the concert was over, Josh thanked everyone for coming. His smile was wide as he waved goodbye to everyone, walking off next to Jake who had his guitar by the neck before he passed it off to one of the stage hands. Josh put his hands on his shoulders as they walked off stage.

You stuck around mostly waiting for the crowd to die down before trying to leave the building. Mel and Tamia talked about the show, saying that it was fucking dope, commenting on how excellent Jake’s playing was. You didn’t speak about Jake’s playing, mostly praising Josh for his spectacular performance. “I never expected that voice to come out of him, how heavenly.”

“Talking about me?” Jake cuts through your conversation, walking over to you with Josh not far behind. You roll your eyes. Tamia and Mel congratulate him on such an amazing performance, gushing about how sweet his guitar looks. “Why thank you, ladies.”

“Mel! I didn’t think you were going to be able to come.” He gushed, wiping his hands on the sides of his khaki shorts he had changed into.

“Yeah, well, Miss Quiet over here wanted to see her archnemesis, didn’t you?”

“I-I–” You turned your head slightly towards Jake, who had an amused smirk written all over his face. “I did not, Mellie, stop lying.”

“By the redness of your cheeks, sweetheart, I’d say she was telling the truth.” You had barely noticed that Mel, Tamia and Josh had slipped away from the two of you, leaving you alone.

“I didn’t even know you were playing.” You admitted shyly, hiding underneath a guise of innocence.

“Even if you did, you looked pretty hot and bothered by my playing.” You held the back of your arms, trying hard to maintain eye contact with him. You looked into his eyes, they were staring straight at you.

“Yeah, sure. I actually came because Josh said he was going. He neglected to mention that he was going to be singing,” you looked at Josh who wore a smile that read ‘guilty as charged’ before patting you on the shoulder.

“Hey, you didn’t ask. You just asked if I was going.” You rolled your eyes and chuckled slightly. “Anyways, Sam and Danny are gonna spend the night in my room, so I’ll have to find somewhere else to be tonight. Are you guys going to either of the frat parties tonight?”

“We’re going to the Delta party. The Sigs’ reputation is not the best, and I don’t feel like seeing whether or not it’s right.”

“That is completely understandable. I shall see you ladies there then. You coming, Jake? We still have a lot to put away.”

“Yeah, in a second,” he turned towards Josh who had begun to walk away, waving him off before turning back to the three of you. “I hope you guys enjoyed the show, maybe I’ll catch up with you at the party.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, actually, I would.” He smiled at you before joining the other boys cleaning up their amps and cords.

“Jesus Christ, the two of you just need to fuck or something. I don’t think I can handle another interaction like that,” Mel joked, making a gagging face when she finishes her sentence. You pushed at her arm, turning around and walking out of the gym.

Tamia and Mel giggled profusely about your and Jake’s rivalry. The two even started making bets on when the two of you would finally ‘get it on’, as Tamia put it. You just rolled your eyes at the conversation, changing the subject to something different.

—

The party, though filled with lots of fun and drinking, was a bust. While Josh had shown up with his younger brother and his brother’s friend, as you learned, in tow, Jake was nowhere to be found. You thought to ask Josh why he wasn’t there, but he was too busy dancing with Micah. Through the grapevine, you learned that Micah and Josh had been together since high school.

You stayed around the party for almost two hours before you wanted to go back. A small part of you had wished Jake had actually come. You wondered if maybe the two of you would get along if you put your competitive nature aside. You tried not to dwell on thoughts of Jake’s absence for too long, wanting to enjoy the rest of the night with your girls. But when you had enough of the party, you shouted in Mel’s ear to let her know you wanted to leave.

Mel and Tamia had made sure you got back alright about two hours into the party. Your legs were tired and your feet had begun to hurt. The two of them stumbled with you back to the door of your building, making sure you were inside before leaving to go back. They almost came in with you, until you insisted otherwise.

Laying on your bed with your head pointed towards the ceiling you started thinking about Jake again. What was his reason for not being at the party? Did he just make those comments beforehand just to rile you up? It seemed like the only valid reason your impaired mind could come up with.

You grabbed your phone, almost dropping it on the floor. You sluggishly opened Instagram, and searched for Jake’s profile. You scrolled through, looking at the few photos he did have on his page. Most of the pictures he had were of his guitar, or places he’s traveled. You were sent into a panic when you realized you had accidentally liked an older picture of Jake’s, one from freshman year of college. Hurriedly, you unliked it and immediately locked your phone.

That had been a few days ago.

Now it was Wednesday and your first final exam was here. It was for the class you shared with Jake, BIO 312. It wasn’t exactly final exam time, but Professor Heinz was going to be away at a conference for a week starting Friday. You didn’t mind, though, since it spaced out your other finals enough to have a decent amount of time to study for them.

You sat at your desk, looking over your notecards one last time before the exam began. A frequent look around the room and you noticed Jake walking in, going to a random seat a couple rows in front of you. He set his bag down next to him, before bending down to grab his laptop. He noticed you watching him and sent a wink your way.

You looked away as you tried to hide the rush of rosy skin that fanned over your cheeks and heated up your ears. You tried to ignore him again until at least when the test started, embarrassed that you got caught looking at him. Your phone pinged and you pulled it out of your bag to look at it, as well as turn it on silent.

jacobtkiszka wants to send you a message.

You swallowed and hit the notification taking you straight to the message.

“Person who turns their test in last pays for coffee?”

Your lips curved into a small smile, feeling your fingers type the first thing that comes to your head.

“Hope you brought your wallet with you, Kiszka.”

You put your phone on Do Not Disturb and shoved it back into your bag. The professor walked through the door, setting her things down on the desk in the front of the room. Her coffee mug still had steam coming from it, freshly poured. A quick look of her watch after getting settled and it was time to start the exam. “Okay, everyone. It’s time for class. Take out your laptops and begin your exam. You may leave when you have finished. Thank you for a great semester, and good luck.”

The questions on the exam were all ones that you knew and had studied for for weeks. It was strenuous, trying to remember everything on the cumulative exam. You had hoped it would go quickly and you would answer them faster than Jake could. Occasionally, you turned to look at Jake, seeing if maybe he was trying to look at you too.

With one question left of your exam, you click the answer and press submit after a minute of debate. You had a bad habit of second guessing yourself occasionally; it was actually the bane of your testing experiences. You hated when you felt confident about an answer, until you really sat with the other possible answers it could be.

You put your laptop back into your bag, zipped it up and noticed that Jake had already left. You cursed to yourself, knowing that now you had to buy Jake a coffee. You waved goodbye to your professor with a smile and walked out the doors. Jake sat outside of the classroom at one of the tables they had throughout the building. “Whatcha reading?”

“Josh recommended it to me, but I’m going to be honest, I fucking hate this book.” He laughed, shoving it into his bag. “You know any good coffee shops around here? I’m kind of tired of Starbucks.”

“I just so happen to know the best coffee shop in town, but it is a bit of a walk, if you don’t mind that?” You asked, walking through the door that Jake was holding before muttering a thank you to him.

“I could also drive, if you’re okay with that.”

“I’m more than okay with that,” you chuckle, letting him know that your dorm building had enough stairs; any chance you could get to use an elevator, or get driven somewhere, you would take that opportunity in a heartbeat.

The drive was short in comparison to the twenty minute walk it would have taken to get to the shop. Jake tried to offer the radio to you, but you let him play what he wanted to listen to. You didn’t know exactly who was playing, but the blues music that played through the speakers was a breath of fresh air.

Your typical shuffle had a plethora of music from differing genres, whether that be rap or old country. You hadn’t known much when it came to blues music, especially the difference between good blues music and bad. Eventually, you got the courage to ask who was playing and Jake answered, letting you know that the song was by Buddy Guy. “It’s called She Suits Me To A T. I tried for weeks to learn this song when I first started playing music more seriously.”

“This is the coffee shop, at the next corner.” You watched his hand as he made a right turn, noticing him steering with just the palm of his hand. Letting the leather steering wheel glide back to its original position in his hand, elbow propped on the door with the window rolled down.

It’s all you thought about on your way into the coffee shop, completely relying on autopilot. Your responses to Jake were almost textbook, one word sentences that could continue the conversation without much effort. “What’re you thinking of getting?”

“Oh, um, I’m not sure. I usually have them surprise me,” you admit, shoving your hands into your jacket. “Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s not. That’s the gamble you take.”

“I like that a lot, actually. I think I’ll have them surprise me too, if you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all.” You smiled at Jake before he went to order for the two of you. You found a place to sit in the meantime, offering a spot towards the windows so you could watch people come and go, each on their own paths of life.

By the time Jake sat down, both of the coffees were in his hand. After a few questions, Jake set the iced drink down in front of you, and the hot drink in front of himself. “Yours is an iced chai, with brown sugar syrup and vanilla. Mine is some sort of tea, I wasn’t really paying attention to what she was saying. I just wanted to remember what she put in yours in case you liked it.”

“Oh,” you spoke, bringing the cup towards you. “Thank you, that’s really sweet. Do you like your drink?”

“You know, it’s really not bad. I wouldn’t have gotten it otherwise, but it’s really not bad.”

“You hate it.”

“I hate it. It’s not good.” The two of you chuckled before you offered him a sip of your drink. “Mhmm,” he moaned. “That’s good, oh my God.”

The two of you continued small talk, whether it was over the classes you had previously taken, memories of parties from past years – anything. You shared previous high school experiences, mostly about the ridiculous things that were considered parties in your teenage years.

Conversation with Jake was surprisingly a lot easier than you thought it would be. Especially since you’ve hated him pretty much your entire college career. You figured he’d be stuck up, aware of his academic achievements and ready to flaunt them in front of anyone who’d listen.

He was the opposite. His sentences were wrapped with kindness, and the reflection in his voice seemed nothing but positive. His voice was like silk, he could’ve talked you into damn near anything as long as his voice sounded like that. It hurt when the conversation slowed, spending a few moments to take in the scene around you two, as well as finally being able to drink more of your drink (which was very delicious, it was almost like crack).

“How long have you been playing guitar?” You asked after the silence became almost uncomfortable to sit with.

“Oh jeez. I’ve been playing since I was… like three? Yeah, three.” You stared at him with eyes slightly wide, mouth agape. “What?”

“N-Nothing, that’s just a really long time. You’re what, 21 now?” He clarified that he was only twenty, his birthday roughly a week away. You poked fun at him, mentioning how you were older, even if it was by less than a year.

“Josh is throwing us a birthday party, if you want to come. Since it’ll be our 21st, we’re having it at our parents cabin on Lake Michigan. You’re welcome to bring Mel and Tamia if you’d like. Sam and Danny are going to be there, even though they’re underage, but we’re gonna pretend like they’re older.” Jake spoke with one last sip of his drink, letting the empty cup echo on the table as he set it down.

“I will let Mel and Mia know. I can’t make any sure decisions without talking to them first, but I’m pretty damn sure that they’ll say they would love to go.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’ll say no either. They seem pretty adamant that you have a little crush on me or something,” he said, putting your cups inside of a bus tub to be picked up and washed.

“I don’t have a crush on you,” you laughed, walking out of the coffee shop with Jake. “I actually hate you, remember?”

“You may say that you hate me, but you’re not really good at showing it.”

#jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fanfiction #godlygretawrites #godlygreta #pretty boy #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x y/n

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 2 months

Text

I've Got A Crush On You

A WMCJ!Jeremy x Reader Fic

Soundtrack: Crush On You- Lil' Kim

The last thing Jeremy wants to do right now is teach a team of 12-year-olds how to play basketball, but when he finds out that the nephew of his gym crush is on his team and practically a basketball prodigy, he'll do anything to get him as a client, especially if it means getting to spend more time with you.

Word Count:

Warnings: language, some shameless flirting and objectification of women

"Dude, you've gotta get a new car. This shits a piece of junk." Jeremy slammed the door of Kamal's pale blue 1995 Honda Accord, the squeak of the hinges piercing his ear drums. "Man, shut up", Kamal sucked in his teeth at Jeremy as he hopped out of the driver's seat, a puff of black exhaust billowing out behind the car. "This is all 'Ni and I can afford right now, and last time I checked, it got your ass around LA just fine. Not everyone can drive Daddy's Porsche. Oh wait." He clamped a hand sarcastically over his mouth with wide eyes, chuckling at the look of hurt on Jeremy's face.

The brunette was quick to straighten up. "First of all, it wasn't my daddy's Porsche, it was Tatiana's daddy's Porsche", Kamal gave him a lazy roll of his eyes as he threw his gym bag over his shoulder, "and second, we broke up months ago, why do you keep bringing it up?"

"Because you call me at least once a week, tellin' me how much you miss her!" Jeremy quickly closed the distance between him, his face in a scowl, voice just above a whisper. "I told you that in confidence, man."

Kamal matched his tone, "Well, I wish you wouldn't tell me nothing at all." He was there for his friend during his breakup, but what Jeremy considered a "healthy processing of emotions", Kamal called "oversharing".

"Besides, I've moved on." Jeremy puffed out his chest, trying to appear as confident as possible. "I've met someone else."

"Oh right. Ms. Flexible." Kamal teased in a sing-song voice as he rested a forearm on the hood of the car. Jeremy wouldn't shut up about this "baddie" (his words) that he saw at the gym he frequented, and you would think Halle Berry was showing up in spandex every week, the way he talked about her.

"Put some respect on her name, man. It's Y/N. I took-well I snuck into- one of her yoga classes at the gym, and she is-", he let out a whistle in awe, "I left her class feeling so Zen." Jeremy wasn't any more limber than before the class started, but he sure was in love. "So what now, you wanna "align her chakras" or something?" Jeremy quickly got the innuendo with a suggestive raise of Kamal's eyebrows.

Jeremy let out a sigh, shaking his head. "Why do I feel like you don't take the ancient and complex, spiritual practice known as yoga, seriously?" You could insult his taste in women, but you couldn't insult his lifestyle.

"Because I don't." Kamal let out a hearty chuckle, but Jeremy was stone faced, failing to find the humor in his joke. "Come on, man. We're gonna be late."

Kamal didn't enjoy stepping foot in his old high school, the memories from his his fall from grace senior year forever in the front of his mind. The only reason he was spending his Saturday in this gym he used to call his second home, was to honor a promise he made to an old friend.

"So where are these prospects you talked about?" Jeremy set his NPR tote bag down the bleachers, surveying the inhabitants of the gym. "There's nothing but some old guys and some kids here, man."

"About that..." Kamal's breath hitched in his chest. He hadn't been forthcoming with Jeremy about what they were doing today, because he knew there was no way he'd come if he knew the truth.

"Kamal Allen?" Kamal turned to see his high school best friend Chris Williams walking up behind him, a bag of basketballs in his hands. "Chris, what's going on man?", Kamal asked as he pulled him into a hug. "How long has it been?" Kamal knew exactly how many years it'd been. There were times when he wanted to reach out Chris, but didn't out of shame and embarrassment for how he left things.

Chris chuckled, "Five years, I guess. How's Imani and the baby?"

"He's not a baby anymore. Drew just turned four."

"Damn, time really does fly I guess." Their was a painful silence between the old friends, so Jeremy stepped in. "I'm Jeremy. I've actually got my own business", he slipped a business card to Chris, who reluctantly took it, a blank look on his face, "I mold basketball players into the the next NBA star with my patented, well it will be eventually, shooting drills and techniques." He gave Chris his signature smile, the elevator pitch committed to memory. "I'm gonna need that back by the way. I only have the one."

"Okay", Chris handed Jeremy back the business card with a confused look on his face, Kamal silently signaled to ignore him. "Anyways, thanks for coming down today. I know these kids are a little misguided, but with some good coaching, especially from one of the best players in our school's history, they can get on the right track."

That caught Jeremy's interest. "I'm sorry, what did you say about kids?" He looked between Kamal and Chris, waiting for an explanation. "You said we were working with prospects headed for the draft, K."

"We are", Kamal avoided eye contact, "I just didn't say what year the draft was."

"Look, these kids are from some rough neighborhoods around L.A. They come here to feel safe, appreciated, and stay off the streets. I need some help getting them together though, I can't coach them on my own." Kamal gave Jeremy a pleading look but he wasn't budging.

"No! Look, that kid is picking his nose", the trio swung their heads to look around, catching a tall, scrawny boy wiping a booger on his mesh jersey, all three groaning in disgust, "and that kid looks like a newborn giraffe." Another kid was having trouble staying upright while he was trying to dribble the ball. "Besides, kids through off my energy. I can't do this." Jeremy collected his things, taking a quick swig of his green juice before throwing it in the bag. "I'll be in the car."

"He made it a couple of steps towards the door before Chris stopped him. "Did I mention the job pays?"

"Alright, everybody round up." Jeremy took in the group of boys in front of him, and realized there wasn't an ounce of talent between them. "This is Kamal and Jeremy, they're gonna help out the team."

"Help?!" Kamal shot a look at a kid with a high-top fade reminiscent of the 80s, couldn't haven been more than five feet tall. "What's an old man and Bob Ross gonna do for this team?" The team snickered and laughed at the joke.

"Bob Ross? You're lucky I don't believe in confrontation or..." Jeremy warned, a scowl on his face.

"Or what? You'd paint me a pretty landscape?" The kid shot back, and Jeremy forgot he was a peaceful soul for a second.

"Alright, that's enough Isaiah", Chris cut in. "This is Isaiah Thompson, our point guard." Isaiah flexed, earning a chuckle from Kamal and Jeremy. "What's so funny? I average 15 points a game. They call me Swisher, because I always make that net swish", he held up his hand in the follow through position, his teammates cheering for him.

"Well "Swisher", they should call you Swiffer, because y'all get swept every game." Kamal's tone was laced with sarcasm. He didn't like going toe to toe with kids, but he was asking for it.

"That's rich coming from you", the tall nose picker stepped in, "last time I checked, you weren't exactly holding any records lately. My dad went to high school the same time you did, and he said you blew your scholarship and now you deliver packages." Kamal's jaw flexed. Somehow, the story of his misgivings had been passed down through generations. He stepped to the kid in a moment of anger, but Jeremy was quick to hold him back. "He isn't worth it." He whispered, and Kamal composed himself.

"That's enough! Now, Kamal is still a legend at this school, and we're gonna show him some respect." Chris let out a sigh. "If we want to be taken seriously at this year's tournament, we need to buckle down and get back to the fundamentals."

"What about white boy over there?" Isaiah pointed in Jeremy's direction. "You don't need to worry about that white boy", Kamal palmed a basketball as he spoke, "he's one of the best shooters I've seen."

"Not with those shoes", Isaiah snickered. Jeremy looked down and wiggled his toes in his custom barefoot shoes. "What's wrong with my shoes? Studies have shown it's better for your body to connect with the ground."

"Its giving...broke." Another kid chimed in from the back of the group, sending the boys into a roaring laughter.

"The only thing its giving is me upper cutting a little kid today!" Jeremy lunged at the kid, Kamal stepping in with a hard push to his chest, making him stumble back. "Watch out everyone, Bob Ross is angry!" Isaiah teased, bellowing with laughter.

"Remember what you said? He's not worth it." Kamal patted Jeremy's shoulder reassuringly, this time the reasonable one. "I'm good. I'm good." Jeremy said with a hard breath out of his nostrils.

The sound of the gym door screeching as it opened made both of them turned. "Dude, you've gotta be kidding me." Jeremy couldn't help the smile that crept on his face when he noticed who walked in.

You were even prettier than Jeremy remembered, and he'd spent a lot of time the last couple of weeks thinking about you. You were out of your usual matching gym set, instead wearing scrubs, and he almost lost it at the thought that you were a nurse.

"Isn't that-?" Kamal pointed over to you, and Jeremy quickly slapped his hand down. "Yes it is. What the hell is she doing here?"

"She's probably here to provide medical assistance if you keep getting killed by these kid's jokes." Kamal let out a humorous breath as he looked over at Jeremy who was in a trance, tracking your every step as you made your way to the bleachers. "You think so? I'd like to get some CPR from those lips."

Kamal shoved his friend, shaking him out of his daydream. "No man. She doesn't even know you exist. One of these gremlins is probably her kid or something." He tossed the basketball to Jeremy, who caught it without dropping his gaze toward you. "Are you coming, man?"

"Yeah, yeah. One second." Jeremy dropped the ball and waved Kamal away. He didn't know if he was gonna get a second chance to have your undivided attention, so he was gonna take advantage of the moment.

You shot off a text and looked up just as Jeremy approached you, planting one of his feet on the bleachers, and leaning in uncomfortably close to you. He was cute, messy curls, a smile that could be used on a dentistry advertisement. His wardrobe, an old tie dye t-shirt that was ripped at the collar and hem paired with basketball shorts and those weird individual toe shoes, was a bit off putting, but you had to admire him being true to his own style.

"Sorry, this is a closed practice", Jeremy said with a smirk. "Oh, sorry! I had no idea", you uttered, quickly collecting your things. "I'm just kidding", Jeremy grabbed your arm gently to stop you from walking away. You glanced down at his hand, making him retract it. "I'm Jeremy. I've taken your yoga class over at Hurston, I'm a big fan." He extended a hand out to you, which you took hesitantly.

"Y/N. I didn't know I had fans", your brow knitted together with a smile, "thank you, I guess?" Jeremy chuckled as you tipped your head to the side. "Yeah, I've never seen anyone hold Warrior II like you do." God, he was rusty as hell at flirting after being with Tatiana so long. He could physically feel the charisma draining from his body. "So are you here waiting for your boyfriend or something?" Jeremy knocked his head back in the direction of some senior citizens going through the motions of a Tai Chi class in the corner.

"Oh no", you grimaced, "hell no, uh I usually pick my nephew up from practice, and I got off of work early, so I thought I'd save myself the drive to Inglewood and just wait until he's finished. He's the shy one over in the corner, Mattias." Jeremy noticed the kid with tight curls atop his head dribbling the ball through his legs. He was honestly impressed with his handling skills.

" Are you one of the coaches?" You noticed the basketball that Jeremy was nervously tossing between his hands as you talked.

"Yeah, you know kids are really my passion. Anything to help", Jeremy was lying through his teeth, but you didn't need to know that. "Children are the future, you know?"

You spent the next 15 minutes talking with Jeremy, and you could admit that he was as funny as he was cute. There was something undeniably charming about him, and the way he spoke so passionately about his business, even if it was a gimmicky juicing endeavor, was endearing.

"Hey, Richard Simmons", Isaiah yelled from across the court, "if you're done bombing over there, we need another person for 5 on 5!" Jeremy cursed under his breath with a roll of his eyes, before turning back to you with a smile. "I'd really love to talk more, but duty calls."

"Yeah, go, go, I understand." You said with a giggle as he jumped off the bleachers and jogged to back to the team. "How the hell does he even know who Richard Simmons is?", Jeremy mumbled under his breath.

To say that the team needed work would be an understatement. Most of the players couldn't even catch the ball without jamming a finger or getting the wind knocked out of them, and dribbling without a travel call was a pipe dream at this point. They could count on one hand the number of shots that made it into the basket during layups. The only player with a little bit of natural talent was Mattias. In fact, he could probably play on JV at his age, and both Kamal and Jeremy noticed how flawless his shot was.

"Are you seeing this?", Kamal whispered to Jeremy, who nodded without needing any other context. "He's good. For 12, he's great. He's Y/N's nephew." Jeremy looked back at you. You were intently watching the team play, and gave Jeremy a small wave, feeling your stomach flip as he returned one back to you. "What's up with that?" Even Kamal could tell there was a spark between the two of you. "All I know man, is when I look at her, my stomach drops into my ass." Jeremy's voice cracked as he spoke.

"Is that a good thing?", Kamal asked with a slightly disgusted face. Jeremy looked just as confused as he did. "I don't know man. I don't know." They both jumped as Chris blew the whistle, the sound echoing through the gym. "Let's get one more scrimmage in before we go home."

"Mattias, take point." Kamal tossed the timid kid the ball, but he caught it with ease. "I'm point guard." Isaiah complained, "Matti's too scared to even shoot the ball."

"No I'm not!", Matti threw back with a frown on his face. "Yes you are. Last game you choked, we could've won!" Isaiah was ever the instigator. "Y'all lost that game by 20." Kamal retorted, waving the paper schedule he had in his hand in the air.

"Yeah, but we could have lost by 18 instead."

Kamal sighed. "It doesn't matter, I'm the coach, and I say Mattias is running point. Now run the play." It ran more like a traffic jam than the play Kamal drew up for them to run, and it was only a matter of seconds before one of the kids missed the pass and the ball went flying into the bleachers.

"Mattias, you need to look where you're passing. Make sure you make eye contact with your teammate before you pass." Kamal ran through the motions before passing the ball back. "Jer, get on the wing." When he didn't move, Kamal looked over to see that Jeremy was practically drooling over you from afar, his back completely turned away from the basket. "Jeremy!"

Hearing his name called a second time caught his attention. "Sorry, man. She's just so beautiful."

"Man, get on the wing", Kamal growled. Jeremy jogged over his spot, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. He wondered what you smelled like, what kind of perfume you wore, what you dreamt about at night. He felt the ball whoosh past his head, but it couldn't tear his attention away from you.

He was so zoned in on you, in fact, he didn't realize the next basketball pass hit him so hard in the head, it knocked him out cold, his body falling to the ground.

"Jeremy. Jeremy, can you hear me?"

Jeremy's eyelashes fluttered rapidly as he came to, and while he couldn't see clearly, he could make out blurry figures hovering over him, muffled voices coming in and out. The first voice to come in clearly was a woman's voice.

"Jeremy, if you can here me, please squeeze my hand." The voice was soft and sweet, like something out of one of his dreams. He gently squeezed the silky soft hand in his grasp, allowing his eyelids to slowly open. "Is this heaven?" He could make out your soft silhouette as the lights got brighter around his head.

You let out a quiet giggle as you moved out of the way so Kamal could check on his friend. When Jeremy's vision was fully returned, he groaned at the sight of Kamal's face in front of his. "No man, this is Compton, not Heaven." He helped Jeremy sit up, and you handed him an ice pack for the ever growing bump on his temple.

"Are you okay?", you gave him a sympathetic smile with a pat on the shoulder. You could tell he was embarrassed, his cheeks and neck a bright pink.

"You should have seen it, the ball hit you in the head, and you went flying. Knocked out cold!", Isaiah exclaimed with a laugh.

"Shut up", Jeremy mumbled, letting out a groan as the pain from the impact finally hit him; his face felt like one giant oncoming bruise. You pulled out the pen light you had in your scrub pocket. "Can you follow the light for me?" Jeremy squinted as you shined the bright light in his eyes but his pupils were receptive. "Well, I don't think you have a concussion, but you should definitely take it easy for the next couple of days."

"Thanks, I'm glad you were here." Jeremy gave you a small smile. "Sorry you had to come to my rescue."

"Don't worry, it comes with the territory." You showed him your nursing badge that was still clipped to your collar. "Here, hand me your phone." Jeremy pulled his phone out of his bag and handed it to you. You put your phone number in his contacts. "Call me if any of your symptoms get worse, and if you start to smell toast, call an ambulance." You gave him one last smile before heading out of the gym with Mattias.

"Wait, so you get a ball to the head, and you still managed to get Ms. Flexible's number?" Kamal playfully shoved Jeremy in the arm. "She gave it to me for emergencies, not to ask her out on a date." Jeremy wanted nothing more then to go on a date with you, but he didn't want to exploit your kindness either.

"Trust me man, I saw you drooling over her. This is definitely an emergency."

That night, Jeremy wore a path in his carpet pacing back and forth in his apartment. He was trying anything to calm his nerves: herbal tea, meditation, even Ashwaganda, but that just made him horny and made it more difficult to hold off on calling you. Kamal wasn't any help either, edging him on as they drove back to their side of town.

He stared at your number in his phone contacts for so long, he had them committed to memory. Maybe he could just pretend that his symptoms had gotten worse. Yeah, maybe he did have a concussion, and while he was sure you'd advise him to go to the doctor, it would at least give him an in.

Fuck it, he was gonna call you.

The phone rang four times before you picked up, the sound of the TV in the background.

"Hello?"

Jeremy cleared his throat, feeling it go dry. The first word came out in a croak. "Hello, this is Jeremy. From earlier today. You know the one that got hit with the basketball?"

You stifled a laugh as you straightened up on your couch. "Jeremy, yeah. Are you okay? How's your head?" You'd been thinking about him all day, hoping that you'd get to see him again, but you honestly weren't expecting to hear from him that night.

"Its okay. Still a little dizzy when I stand up too quickly, but I took your advice and I've been taking it easy. I actually made one of my recovery smoothies tonight, and I can swear its helping." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, waiting for you to speak.

"That's good, I'm glad you're doing okay." You allowed a pause, not really sure what he wanted. "Is there something else you wanted to talk about?"

It was now or never. You were the first person after Tatiana that he actually saw as more as a rebound hookup. He wanted to do this right.

"Actually, I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner tomorrow?" He immediately began to panic as soon as the words came out of his mouth. "I've know this vegan restaurant that has farm to table ingredients." He slapped a hand to his forehead in embarrassment. Good job, Jeremy. If she didn't think you were a weirdo before, he definitely did now.

He perked up as you began to speak. "That actually sounds really nice. I would love to go to dinner with you, Jeremy."

"One second." Jeremy punched the mute button so you wouldn't hear him run around his apartment in excitement, punching the air. He plopped back down on his couch, taking a second to compose himself and catch his breath before he pressed unmute. "Sounds good. 8'o'clock?"

"That's perfect. See you tomorrow."

Jeremy hung up his phone, and placed it on the coffee table as reality started to set in. This was the first date he was going on in five years. He really needed it to go well.

He needed it to go fuckin' perfect.

Tag-List:

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@fluidsentiment

@jacksuberdriver

#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jackman harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic

138 notes · View notes

blossomwritesthings · 9 months

Text

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

pairing: chan x curvy/plussizedfem!reader (afab)

genre: idol!chan. curvy/plussized!reader. hurt/comfort. angst!! slight fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ ONLY. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. the angst is real and raw in this. reader deals with a lot of online hate for many different reasons (this includes things like: age discrimination, fat-ph0bia, and online bullying). territorial/protective chan. smut warnings below cut!!

word count: 6.7k

summary: against your boyfriend chan's wishes, you had made a twitter account after many years - and what a mistake that was. now, you're left with the aftermath of the damage, and chan is the only person who can pick up the broken pieces of you.

18+ warnings: unprotected sex (stay safe out there, guys!) but reader is on birth control. chan has a fixation for reader's tits lmao. fingering. someone gets a handjob... 👀 DIRTY talk. youngerdom!chan. oldersub!reader. making out. manhandling and slight size kink. praise kink. nipple/breast play. body worship. riding. excessive hair pulling/scratching. BREEDING KINK!!! pet names (babydoll, babygirl, kitten, etc.). daddy kink. multiple orgasms is alluded to. someone gets fucked on top of a table.

a/n: OKAAAY- firstly, I just wanna give a big shout out to my dear, sweet friend Belle (@cb97breathing) for being so kind as to request a chan oneshot, and inspiring me to write this dumpster fire of a fic lmao!! 😂 I told her that my requests have been closed since may, but since she's such a wonderful friend, I've made an exception this time around~ 🫣 anyways, hope you enjoy this lil piece babe... you'll have to lmk what you think ehehehehehe... 😈 I wrote this in a single sitting last night, so it might make like, no sense at all but I seriously don't give a flying fuck at this point, so enjoy!! 💀

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

Soon after the two of you had started dating, you had promised your boyfriend Chan that you would never go online to search for fans' comments about your relationship. Whether they were good or bad, he had made you promise him that you'd never read such things because it wasn't good for your health.

And for the most part, you'd kept that promise to him.

For years, you had left social media alone. Avoid making any form of account to begin with, that way you wouldn't be tempted to read some of the shit that people said about you online.

You were a pretty strong woman and could withstand a lot of chaos. This had proven to be true after Chan announced your relationship, as some of the Stray Kids 'fans' hadn't taken to the news very well. Instead, they stormed the streets of his company, protesting against the relationship and making humungous threads online as they tried to expose you.

But lately, you could feel yourself slipping.

At first, it had just started with making a harmless Twitter account. You had wanted to follow your boyfriend's private one that the fans didn't know about. And for a little bit, everything was okay. He didn't know about your activity online, and you wanted to keep it that way.

It was one day though, when you were feeling especially shitty about yourself, that you happened to stumble upon some random Tweet.

The things that the anonymous person had said about you dug deep inside of you. Reached for your heart and squeezed it in an icy, vice-like grip.

Then, it wasn't too long before you found yourself on the wrong side of social media.

The one that was full of darkness and hatred and violence.

And everything that you saw was always about you and Chan. But mostly, the sick people focused on you.

Nitpicking everything about you.

Your personality,

Your words,

The worst things they talked about were linked to your body and age.

Sure, you were on the curvier side of things. But Chan had always made it crystal clear from day one that he found you absolutely beautiful. The first time the two of you had met at that random club in Seoul all those years ago, back when Stray Kids was newly debuted, he had told you how stunning you were - inside and out - and he had only talked to you for an hour at that point.

These people who hid behind their screens online liked to point out your age, too. About how you were a few years older than Chan. They called you all sorts of things and claimed that you were a golddigger for getting with someone so famous.

Chan had never mentioned your age gap before. He treated you like you were his peer and not someone who had quite a few years over him. Because that's the kind of man he was - he didn't care what you looked like or how old you were. All he cared about was you... and what you were like on the inside. So all of the frivolous things that other guys worried about were cast to the sidelines, as he only ever focused on your inner spirit.

Obviously, your boyfriend was a rarity.

Even still though, you could feel your self-esteem tanking with each comment that you read. Each thread, each video. They only unraveled you a little bit more with every day that passed. And you knew that they truly weren't fans. Because people who loved Chan would never hurt him and you the way some of them were doing.

But that didn't change the fact that it really fucking hurt.

You knew that you shouldn't have made the Twitter account. But now that you were on it? Now that you were constantly checking what others were saying about you? You couldn't seem to stop.

Like a drug that was slowly overtaking your system, you couldn't get enough of it all.

The hate,

The shame,

The ridicule.

It spread throughout your veins, making you feel exhausted and angry, and heartbroken.

But of course, your boyfriend could never know of such things. Sure, he checked social media to see what fans were saying, but he didn't have that much time to hang around and catch the shitty side of things.

No, you had promised him you'd never go on social media, so you intended to keep everything a secret. He had warmed you away from it all early on since he knew how horrible people could be online.

And to be honest, you felt a little ashamed, too. To become so affected by the abhorrence that you were losing sleep over it. That you were losing your appetite, too. You could feel your motivation tanking as your brain replayed countless things that people were saying about you.

So there you were, snuggled under a fuzzy blanket and tucked in the corner of the large, black leather couch that was in your boyfriend's studio. It was late on a weekend night, and he had called you over to the company to hang out with him while he worked.

Although, you weren't really focusing on him after a while. Instead, you were scrolling through Twitter in silence, taking in the newest things that random people were saying about you.

User 570 - "nah that fatass could neverrr bag such a hot guy like chan, she totally seduced him or some shit."

User 194 - "I heard that he's into like, a mommy kink and that's why he fell for her while he was still so young... didn't they start dating when skz was still newly debuted??"

User 006 - "bro don't get me STARTED- this dumb bitch is over here thinking that he genuinely loves her... gurl, he's probably cheating on you with one of the itzy members hahaha"

User 288 - "Not her thinking she actually had a fighting fucking chance with our chan-"

You were pulled from the comments by the sound of a voice talking. You looked up to see that your boyfriend was turned around in his desk chair, muscular arms folded over his chest as he stared at you.

"Y/N."

The way he was calling your name, so seriously and without any hint of playfulness, sent a ripple of unease to course down your spine.

"Y-Yes?" You asked, gently placing your phone face-first down on the couch beside you, that way he couldn't see what you had been looking at.

"Did you even hear what I was saying?" He rose a dark, perfectly-manicured eyebrow your way. For Stray Kids newest comeback, he had dyed his hair platinum blonde again. He did it in part because his stylists had said he'd look good with bringing it back. But mostly, you knew that he had done it for you, since him being a blonde had always been one of your biggest weaknesses.

"Oh- no, sorry, I was kinda distracted..." You mumbled, fingers playing with the blanket around your waist, palms digging into the soft fabric as you felt your heart beat against your ribcage.

Chan threw you a deep frown before he placed his headphones down on his desk. He had been busy producing for the past two hours, and with a glance at the clock just above his head, you read that it was well past midnight. The company was quiet, signaling that everyone had gone home for the night.

Everyone except you and Chan, at least.

"I was asking if you wanna get takeout," Chan began, running a hand through his blonde locks and messing it up even more. "I'm pretty sure that fried chicken place just down the road is open 24/7, so we could get that if you'd like."

You felt yourself shaking your head. Because honestly, soon after reading the comments from that night, you had lost all form of an appetite. "I'm not hungry right now. But you can get something if you'd like, babe... do whatever you want."

Without saying another word, you picked up your phone again. And already, you were getting lost in a sea of new posts and comments that had appeared while you were distracted.

"Baby." Chan's voice came out softer than before, but it still didn't pull your attention away from the darkness that was seemingly at the edges of your fingertips. "Baby- listen to me."

That got your attention. Automatically, you were lifting your head again, blood thrumming in your ears as you watched the swarthy look cross over your boyfriend's face.

"What's going on with you lately?" He said, leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows atop his knees, showcasing his bare forearms. If you were in a different headspace, you'd be turned on by the sight of him like that - light hair all disheveled, and loose-fitting black t-shirt beautifully showcasing his muscular arms. "You've been acting different these days, and it's making me worry."

You tried to flash him your best reassuring smile, but you got the feeling that it looked a little more like a painful grimace than anything else. Because the only thing that was worse than all of the hatred was his finding out. No, you wanted to keep all of it away from him. Hide it inside yourself, that way only you'd be the one affected by the shadows.

"I'm fine, Chan. Don't worry, nothing's going on..." Your voice trailed off, as you caught his intense stare. Then his eyes were roving over your form, before stopping at your phone that was clutched in your hands, held close to your chest. You could feel the crimson blooming in your cheeks as he began to take notice of your secrecy regarding the device.

He was rising from his chair then, nearing you slowly. If he moved too fast, he'd scare you away irrevocably and there would be no comeback for him whatsoever. "What's got you so distracted, hmm?" His question came out hushed as if only you were meant to hear it.

The anxiety danced in the pit of your stomach, as anxious butterflies flitted around your system from his approaching nearness. "Oh, uhm- just a friend from... high school."

"Oh yeah? What's her name?"

"Uh- Vanessa."

"What're you guys talking about so late at night?"

You shifted uncomfortably in your position, limbs turning a little shaky at his closeness. If you reached out, you'd be able to touch him. "Just... girl stuff."

Chan laughed at that, but it held no humor. No mirth whatsoever. Instead, it was dry and sardonic and left a hole to begin widening in your heart.

He knew,

He-

"Lemme see."

You knew it had been coming as soon as he had started grilling you about your phone. Even still, the two little words forced your eyes to widen frantically. Heart pushing against your ribcage in anxiety, you held on a little tighter to your phone.

"I don't really know if-"

"Give me the damn phone, Y/N," Chan said, his voice a little more raised than before. The firm line of his lips pressed together and his eyes that were dancing with a myriad of feelings told you everything you needed to know. His hand was already outstretched, as he waited for your next move. "I won't ask again."

And you knew he wouldn't.

Because if you didn't comply, he'd force it out of your hand.

Chan was a gentle man, with a beautiful soul and a love for humanity. But if there ever was a threat to the people he loved, if he ever held any sort of suspicion that something was amiss, he wouldn't hesitate to take the reins.

And that usually meant it came out in the form of anger - of pure, unadulterated rage, as he battled against whatever force was hurting his loved ones.

So just like that, you were raising the white flag. You were admitting defeat, as you slowly placed the phone in his open hand.

Holding your breath, you leaned back against the couch, waiting, and watching.

At first, nothing happened.

He stared at the phone in silence, eyes scanning the bright screen.

But then, everything changed.

In an instant, his face was morphing into something dim and... scary. Eyes turning to slits as he read the obscene things that were right there on your phone, strong jaw ticking as he stood there. You saw the way his hand gripped on a little harder to the phone, knuckles turning white with his barely masked anger quickly rising to the surface.

You didn't realize you were crying until it was too late and the first sob was flooding from your mouth. Pathetically, a small whimper escaped from deep inside of you as your heart raced in your chest from the way your boyfriend's entire persona was morphing into a man who was beyond furious. He was probably seeing red at this point.

"Please- Chan, d-don't be angry with me!" You suddenly burst out in a tiny wail. Your desperate voice seemed to shake him from the laser focus that he had on your phone's screen. It yanked his eyes away from it and soon he was staring back at you. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

You had no time to react then, as he was throwing your phone aside haphazardly and dropping to his knees on the floor. In the next breath, he was upon you, reaching out with those strong arms of his and pulling you into him.

Like two puzzle pieces that were made to fit together, you melted against him. He wrapped his arms around your body, holding your shaking form close as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, the sobs racking through you. Your heart was beating so fast, you were afraid you were about to drop dead right at that moment.

But your boyfriend's hold on you saved you. Grounded you, forced you to take deep breaths slowly but surely. Relaxed your muscles until you were feeling a little light-headed from all of the exhaustion and pain. The entire time, Chan remained quiet, merely carding gentle fingers through your hair as he soothed your aching spirit.

And when the tears finally subsided, you were pulling away from his form, peering up at him with pink-flushed cheeks and bleary eyes. "A-Are you mad at me?"

Chan stared down at you, taking in a deep breath before he was speaking for the first time in a while. His voice was gruff, but not as stony as it had been earlier. "Why would I ever get mad at you for the shit that psychos say online?" He reached up towards you, tucking a few strands of your messy hair behind your ear. "I mean, yeah, I'm disappointed that you got a Twitter in the first place, but I'm even more disappointed in the fact that you didn't tell me about any of this."

You felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes again at the mention of his disappointment in you. You hated the feeling that you had let him down. It tore through you like a painful slash, the icy blade digging into your soul and ripping open a cacophony of emotion. "I-I'm so sorry babe... I... I didn't want to worry you. I just... thought I could handle it on my own."

Your boyfriend fit a few fingers underneath your chin, tipping your head up so that you met his gaze again. "Babygirl, this isn't something you can handle on your own. You're not supposed to have such a heavy burden on your shoulders- no one is supposed to. But because we live in such a shitty world, things like this happen." His thumb moved up your face, as he gently swiped at your bottom lip. The gesture eased your racing mind, slowly calming your heart as you came down from the intensity of it all. "I'm just glad that I know about it now so that I can help you."

You went silent after that, searching his face as he looked on at you with soft fondness. The anger had completely dissolved out of him as soon as he had seen your tears. Because that's the kind of man he was. When things got emotional, all rage he once felt was left to the wayside so that he could help you through the pain.

"Y-You have to know, that none of it is true, babe," you started, stuttering over your words from the dryness in your throat. "I... I didn't start dating you because I'm a gold digger or that I have a thing for younger guys and I-"

Chan brushed his thumb across the corner of your lips again, offering you a soft, easy smile. "Honey, you don't have to explain yourself to me. I know full well that all that bullshit is completely groundless." You two had separated and he was back in his chair, with it rolled so close to you that your knees touched. Chan reached out with his free hand, grabbing yours and squeezing your palms together. "I fell in love with you at first sight because I saw what a genuinely beautiful human being you were. And I've continued to fall in love with you every single day since then. Your age- your size, none of it matters to me. You know I don't care about those stupid things... all I care about is you."

You roughly scrubbed at your eyes, willing the tears away so that you could get a clearer look at his face. "Y-Yeah, I know... it's just, it's hard not to believe the things they say, you know?" You gave him a weak, humorless smile.

"That's the exact reason why I didn't want you going on social media... I wanted to protect you," he began, raising your clasped hands to his mouth and pressing a few gentle kisses against your knuckles. "I love you so much and only want the very best for you. And I always want you to be safe, yeah? I'm not gonna let anyone - online or in real life - hurt you like that again. I promise."

This time, the grin you gave him was genuine and warm. "I love you too, Chan..." You whispered, as you leaned into him and gave his cheek a light peck. "So much. And I'd do anything for you - fight anyone to keep you okay."

"That's my sweet girl," Chan's praise forced the peachy-pink tinge to creep up the column of your neck, pooling in your cheeks and rising to the tips of your ears. "Now come over here and sit down, I wanna show you some of the stuff I've been working on." He pat his lap, and you felt your heart leap in your chest.

He was trying to distract you. He was trying to pull your mind away from the contempt and all of the turmoil that he knew was still brewing deep inside your mind.

So you let him.

You let him pull your mind away to softer, quieter things.

And soon, you were situated in his lap with the fuzzy blanket wrapped around your shoulders. With your spine pressed into his firm stomach, you watched him type away at his computer as he pulled up a sample.

"This is something I want to put on our new album... I think it'd suit Changbin's voice fucking well." He mused off, as he began to play an expert of the song. It was fast-paced and upbeat, with a subtle hip-hop vibe to it.

You slightly turned to the side, offering him a faint smile, "I really like it, babe... feels like a great song to play in a concert."

"I know right? I haven't shown the guys it yet, but I have a feeling that they're gonna love it."

Giggling softly, you turned around so that you were facing him. He titled his head up to meet your regard, and you reached out, carding a few fingers through his blonde locks.

"You're so cute when you're excited about music," you muttered, tilting forward to give his forehead a gentle kiss. And when you pulled away, you flashed him a tiny smirk. "Hot, too. Like, really fucking hot. Makes me so jealous when I watch those producing vlogs you make and I see all of the fangirls going batshit crazy over you."

You had never confessed to watching some of his vlogs, since you didn't want him to think that you were stalking his content. But automatically, you could see the switch flip inside your boyfriend's mind.

Instantly, he was mirroring your smirk. Sparkly white teeth pulled taut against his lips as he peered on at you with a suggestive light dancing in his eyes. "Oh really? Well, just wait until you hear this next track..."

He pressed a few things on his keyboard, and soon, a song with a deep bass was booming out of the studio's speakers. The sensual r&b feel of it vibrated around the room, wrapping around the two of you and causing something heated to stir in the pit of your stomach. It was quite dark in the studio, with the only light atop his desk casting a faint glow across Chan’s smooth, tan skin.

"I think I like this one even more."

Chan's gaze was still locked with yours, as you felt his hands move away from the keyboard, instead resting on either side of your hips. "Good, because I made it for you- for us."

Brows furrowed in confusion, your heart skipped a beat at the admission. He had made songs for you in the past, but nothing quite so... alluring. "What do you-"

He cut you off by his fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts, making you squeak out in surprise. "Made it one night when I was pumping myself dry to that picture of you- you know the one... black lingerie, in front of our bedroom's full-length mirror..." He ground out in a raspy voice, leaning up into you and nuzzling the tip of his nose into the exposed skin of your neck. He took in a shuddering, deep breath, and as you restlessly shifted against his lap, you could feel the growing hardness there, hidden just underneath his black sweatpants. "Imagined what it'd be like to fuck you to it... have you screaming my name as you ride my cock so perfectly- the way you always do. Was inspired by the thought of you taking me so well that you can’t talk anymore, that you go fucking mute and all wobbly-legged as I fuck that tight, little cunt of yours wide open with my cock."

"C-Chan, I..." But you were cut off once again, this time by his head moving downwards, as he pulled the neck of your oversized tee down so that your clavicle was exposed to the cool studio air.

Then his teeth were grazing over your skin, biting down softly, tongue swiping and soothing, and you already knew that violet and crimson would bloom from that exact spot when he was finished.

"You'd like that, huh?" His low voice rumbled against your skin, shooting freezing shivers up the entirety of your spine. "Like me to fuck you right here while this music is playing on in the background."

And the words were already leaving your brain, surging out of your mind as the fire began to blaze in your core. It made everything around you deep red, as you honed in on your boyfriend at that moment, and how he looked up at you with a sardonic kind of smirk.

You nodded quickly. Desperately. "Holy shit, yes- yes, please... I... need you to fuck me right now." Without even realizing it, you were grinding against him. In your heated frenzy, you hadn't even registered the fact that you were moving back and forth on his clothed lap.

Chan reached up then, running a few of his slim fingers through your hair, before he was grabbing onto your locks, pulling back slightly so that your neck was more exposed than ever before. "Such a good girl..." His lilting tone praising you so well made you squirm in your spot, your legs positioned on either side of his waist. "But you know what good girls do, right? They... ask nicely." He said the last of his words in a quiet whisper, his tongue lapping at your sensitive clavicle once more, sucking and kissing the expanse of skin there.

Then he yanked a little harder at your hair, forcing your eyes open in shock. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, as you subtly registered the sound of that new r&b track he had made repeating on itself. He had set it to that, already knowing how the night would turn out.

That devious little minx.

"Please-" You breathed out, whimpering softly at the feel of his hardness hitting that one spot between your legs. "Daddy, please... want... want you to fuck me right now. Need it so bad, I-I can't breathe I need you so much, Daddy."

Chan was silent for a moment, and just as you were about to whine for him all over again, he was moving. Fingers grabbing onto the hemline of your shirt and slowly lifting it up your torso. "Well... I guess, since you're being so good tonight, I have no choice but to give in to you." He said in a low tone.

His fingertips grazed against your stomach as he made his way up your arms with your shirt, teasing you silently. You cried out at the feeling of him being so close to you, yet he wasn't even doing that much. He hadn't even started yet.

Once your shirt was off and cast to the side, he made quick work of your bralette, and soon, that was forgotten too. Chan pulled away from you to admire your topless form for a few seconds, shaking his head from side to side in approval and smiling like a maniac.

"Always loved your tits so fucking much," he purred, face nuzzling into the middle of your chest just as one of his hands came around one of your mounds, squeezing slightly. "Whenever I see them like this, it makes me wanna suck on them for days- fuck it, months."

Then his head was moving to the side, as he pressed fervent kiss after fervent kiss to your exposed breast. You clutched on tight to his blonde locks as soon as his mouth hovered over your hardened peak. His breath was hot against your gooseflesh, making you shake with unchecked want.

"I'd let you too," you sighed just as his tongue poked out between his mouth and came in contact with your bare skin. "If I could live the rest of my days with your face buried in my tits, I probably would do it in a heartbeat..." You felt yourself beginning to slip off the cliffside in that moment, as his teeth grazed your nub, sharp canines sinking into your skin while his hot mouth fit around your cleavage perfectly.

"Fuck- pretty sure you're gonna be the death of me, baby doll," his mutter jolted across your flesh, sending flashes of white-hot bliss to dance through your veins. His head was moving after that, focusing on your other tit while his hand played with the one he had just had his attention on.

Expert fingers pulled and tugged, twisting and soothing. You felt the warmth rising into your cheeks, and as you closed your eyes, you swore you saw little stars dance across your vision from the way that his head was buried so well between your cleavage.

"D-Daddy, I can't-" You were suddenly begging, hands wrapping around his locks and pushing his face closer to your skin.

He was drawing away from you at that, lips wet and a little puffy from the abuse that he was giving to your tits alone. Dragging a finger across the line of your jaw, he played with your bottom lip for what felt like the millionth time that day, all the while flashing you one of those smirks.

The one he only used when he was especially turned on.

"I know baby girl, I know..." He gave you a teasing pout, just before he was tipping into your form and his lips were nearing yours. "You want Daddy to make it all better, yeah? Want me to use my cock on you now?" His mouth fit around yours, his tongue dipping between your teeth and tasting you.

You moaned into him, loving the way he met your grinding midway. The two of you were moving in perfect sync to the music softly playing from the speakers. And as his tongue lapped at yours, you could faintly sense one of his hands leaving your hip, traveling to the waistline of your shorts and sliding down the front of them.

Chan swallowed whole the shuddered gasp that fled from deep inside of you as you felt his fingers toy with you, running along the line of your panties before he was dipping in. Then you were turned into a shaking mess of limbs and whines, as he slipped his hand close to your throbbing core, thumb circling your sensitive bud, pressing into it and drawing senseless figures while another one of his long fingers toyed with your entrance.

His lips moved away from yours, a string of saliva following in the wake of your separation. Slowly, his mouth came over the shell of one of your ears, teeth gently grazing your lobe as he said in that dark voice of his, "Hmm- already so nice and wet for me... you're gonna take me real easy tonight, yeah, dollface?"

Your head was bobbing up and down in silent agreement, a string of breathless cries flooding from your lips at the feeling of two of his fingers sinking into your essence. You moved around his hand, swiveling your hips in a rhythm that matched the beat of the sensual song playing in the background.

Yanking a little harder at his bleached roots, you forced him to peer up at you. Catching the way his eyes were hooded and the shadows of the room danced across the sharpness of his cheekbones and nose, you could take a pretty good guess as to how close he was too. And he wasn't even inside you yet.

"N-No more teasing, Daddy... please." You knew he loved all of the begging. He admitted to such a thing early on at the start of your relationship. If there was one thing you could get away with in bed, it was begging. Do a little light groveling for him and his cock, and he was all yours.

In the next beat, he was ripping his hand away from your soaking core, hands making quick work of his sweatpants and boxers. Soon, his shirt was off too, showcasing his toned abs and biceps. Once he was finished shucking off his pants, he turned his focus back on you, lifting a suggestive eyebrow your way.

"Go on, kitten- stroke it." He motioned with a single tilt of his head downwards, and your eyes followed his gesture until you came in contact with him. All throbbing seven and a half inches of him, tip already puffed red and leaking out precum.

You gulped around the lump steadily forming in your throat, your lips already parting in silent want as your eyes traced the long vein that ran up the length of him. He was utter perfection and a sight to truly behold. His half-naked form always left you breathless, no matter how many times you had seen him.

Without another word spoken between the two of you, you reached forward, hands coming around his rigidness. Instantly, upon contact, he threw his head back against his chair, moaning out in that husky voice of his.

Slowly, you began to stroke up and down, pulling and squeezing only slightly. You could feel him practically swelling underneath your fingertips, as he neared his release. And just when you thought he couldn't take any more of it, your boyfriend was clawing at your bare hips, guiding your body so that your entrance was sitting just above his cock.

"Fuck- I love your body so much," he growled, as he helped you get into position. And as you began to sink down onto him, his eyes tore open and met your gaze. The emotion you found there - of pure love and adoration - did something funny to your stomach. Cast butterflies across your entire system, making you feel all floaty inside. "Love every inch of you- every curve, every dip, every dimple."

As the words fell from his lips, you were beginning to move against him, hips making languid circles, pushing back and forth to feel the tip of him hit that spot deep inside of you. Chan worked against you, thrusting up between your folds and steadily helping to build the rising release inside of you.

"Yeah- just like that," he groaned out, face flushed a dark red colour from the way you fit around him so perfectly. The wet sounds of the two of you moving together in tandem cast a whole new form of lewdness over the track that was playing in the very background. Made everything so much more hotter. "Taking me so well- this pussy was fucking made for me."

You clawed desperately at his shoulders, nails raking down his proud, muscular back. He met each one of your movements by plunging so far into you, you could feel your insides melting from how badly your orgasm was approaching.

"You feel so good, holy shit, I-" You began to say but froze up from the feeling of Chan moving the two of you again. And soon, he was frantically pushing aside the things on his desk that was just behind you, shoving his keyboard aside as he grabbed onto your hips and hoisting you up onto the lacquered wood.

You had no time to catch your breath then, as he was wrapping your legs around his torso and beginning to plunge into you on a whole different level. Before, riding him had been languid and sensual. But this new position was ravenous and wild.

And as his cock reached all new places inside of you, you faintly sensed the feeling of a thumb pressing against your bundle of nerves, rubbing incessantly there to drive you closer to the edge.

"You said you were jealous of the Stays that fangirled over my producing form, right?" He ground out, pounding into you so irrevocably hard that you could do nothing but hold on for dear life. Nails digging into the muscles of his shoulders, you bounced against him with each push and pull. "But you know that there's no one else for me, kitten. You're still my favourite girl."

That had you crying out in white-hot bliss, as he fucked into you a little rougher, thumb rubbing at your clit a little faster. Your hips moved on their own accord, meeting his rocking halfway and driving you so close to the cliffside of orgasm.

Your boyfriend bent down towards you then, tongue tracing the line of your lips as he gave you a feverish kiss. "Want you to say it, yeah? Tell me that you know." The tip of him hit into that gooey spot with every other breath that you took, and it was hard to even focus on what he was asking of you.

Even still, you managed to control your bearings. Over the curses and cries that had been flowing from your lips unbidden for the last half hour, you spoke up. "I-I'm still your favourite girl." You said in a desperate plea, head tipping back in pure ecstasy and eyes rolling into the back of your skull from how good he was making you feel.

"Say it again."

Another couple of frantic pumps.

"I'm still your favourite girl."

"Again!"

At this point, he was ordering loudly in that gravelly voice of his, one hand digging into your hip so tightly, you were sure you'd see bruises there the next day. Meanwhile, the other was busy between your legs, working you up to a total and complete frenzy while his cock fucked you right open.

"I'm still your favourite girl!" You screamed out in a strangled moan, your quickly-approaching orgasm making everything cast in a film of red haziness and confusion.

"Good..." Your boyfriend praised, stroking into you with sloppy movements as he approached his high. "Such a good girl for me... my special, pretty girl." He was buried so deep you could feel him turn completely rigid as he finally approached release. "Now come for me, baby doll..."

And that was all you needed to hear.

Instantly, you let yourself go, riding the wave of pure, cosmic euphoria.

It shook you to your entire core, making your limbs jelly-like and boneless.

It blew galaxies across your screwed-shut eyes, forcing out moan after countless moan as you allowed the orgasm to course through your veins in fiery red heat.

And the singlemost part that sent you over the edge completely was the feeling of Chan finding his release too - the explosion of whiteness coating your very walls.

Everything was so warm-

Your cheeks,

Your heart,

Your limbs,

Your pussy.

It felt like you had been dipped into a vat of eternal fire, and your boyfriend was the tinder to the match.

Chan was a groaning mess above you, thrusts turning sloppy and shallow as he rode out his high. And when you were both finished, he didn't pull out quite yet.

You cracked your eyes open to catch a glimpse of him gazing down between the two of you, eyes still filled with so much lust and love.

"What?" You asked hesitantly, shifting in your spot on the edge of the wooden desk. "Did I do something wrong or-"

Chan's eyes flicked up to you then, and they softened exponentially. "No- no. I was just admiring this sight... your pussy so full of my cum. Almost makes me want to fuck it back into you right here and now..." He let his voice trail off in a light tone.

You knew how much he loved to breed you. He did it almost every single night. And you loved it too- playing with such a taboo and 'dirty' thing, even though you knew you were on birth control.

He wasn't the only one who got a high from it all.

So you opened your legs up a little more for him, already feeling the stiffness of him coming back, his tip nudging that warm spot deep inside of you.

"Well?" You wiggled your hips a little bit, just taunting him for good measure. You flashed him your best smirk, the one he always gave you. "What're you waiting for, Daddy?"

The toothy grin that spread across his mouth then made your head skip a beat. Made the butterflies burst against your stomach and float up into your bloodstream.

"Have I ever told you how much I fucking love you?" He mused, lips coming close to hover over yours again.

You shrugged nonchalantly, like the position the two of you were in was anything but risky and sensual. "You could stand to mention it a few more times."

Then, just as he was tilting back in to give you another breathtaking kiss, he was muttering in that rumbly voice of his that he knew drove you crazy. "Well then- I fucking love you."

And just like that, you were turned into a giggling little schoolgirl, fangirling over her school crush. All the while, Chan began to shift against you again, hardening cock beginning to fuck his seed right back into your aching cunt.

It was enough to make you forget about everything,

The hate,

The heartbreak,

And all of the anxiety.

It didn't matter if the respite would only last for a little while - only for a single night.

Because if Chan's version of 'soothing your worries away' entailed his cock being buried deep inside of you for hours at a time, you weren't going to complain.

Nope, not one bit.

Fin.

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petrichor-idyllic · 1 year

Note

Hi Petri <3, so this request is a bit longer than the other's so bear with me (and my broken English lol). I was thinking about a Minho x fem!reader where she's from maze B and is close friends with Aris, so she's with him in the whole cafeteria scene where he gets introduced (while the boys are excited about the food, beds, girls and etc. and Thomas is having a bad feeling about that place). She's more positive about being there than Aris cause they been through a lot and she just want a little rest, but when she sees what that place really is she's terrified and is willing to do everything to get out, so Minho sees this fire in her and kinda likes it. (I don't know if it made any sense 😬, but I trust you to make a good fic out of it)

Oo, I do like more plot-driven requests like this, they give me more to work with :))

DECEPTION IN LIBERATION

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Movie based fic.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, violence, teenage boys still not knowing how to act in the presence of a girl, WICKED spelt WCKD because movies, Rat Man aka Janson, probably innacurate Group B slang thanks to Wikipedia.

Just 'cause you wouldn't know the characters' names doesn't mean I don't, so the Gladers' names are used before you meet them. Because there is no way this would work if I couldn't use their names.

You'd escaped the Maze.

Finally, after all this time, you'd escaped, and now you were safe. The years of torture and stress are now behind you and you can finally start to heal.

Your friends are safe. You're safe. And so are an entire group of teenagers who apparently went through the same things you did. WCKD definitely had big plans, but that doesn't matter anymore.

It's over.

At least that's what you think.

You playfully nudge Aris. The measly boy sits next to you, hoodie hiding his face as he stares at the table in front of you. You guys escaped the Maze first, meaning that you were the first to arrive. They keep taking people away; Aris' best friend Rachel was one of the first.

And he's been distant ever since.

You've been keeping an eye on him. Though, it is hard trying to spend time with the boy when he barely speaks nowadays.

You nudge him again. "C'mon, Aris, you've been avoiding us for-finching-ever." He scoffs, shaking his head. "What's goin' on?"

"You won't listen to me, so what does it matter?" You sigh, shuffling slightly and swinging your leg over one side of the bench to look him at him straight.

"Of course I'll listen to you. What's going on?"

From a few feet away, the Gladers have started talking to boys from other groups, and have taken note of Aris.

And therefore, you too.

"Who's the girl he's with?" Minho ask the unknown boy, eyes fixation on you.

The boys shrugs. "Just some chick he was in the Maze with."

"Lucky shank," Frypan chuckles.

Thomas, however, takes note of Aris. He's not like the other people that are sitting around and chatting. He's reserved, sunk low into the table and not even looking at you as his hood hides him.

"Aris," his eyes flicker to you, "I'm always gonna listen to you- talk to me."

He hesitates but takes a deep breath. "There's something wrong here," he mumbles, his voice barely a whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"Something is going on- the Guard's are armed, our friends keep getting taken away, and..."

"And?" You push him to continue and he shuffles closer.

"Don't tell anyone, please."

You start to feel anxious. This is getting weird. "Okay."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"At night, I've been sneaking through the vent tunnels-"

"What?" You hiss. "That's so dangerous."

"I know, I know- but they go all over the building, a-and they take people into this... room that I can't get into. There's something weird going on. I know it sounds weird and you won't believe me, but-"

"I believe you," you trust Aris, and he's smart, so if he thinks something isn't quite right, then chances are something isn't quite right. "But what do we do?"

"Teresa!" Both of you perk up as you watch Thomas, who you're yet to know, stand up from his table, marching over to the doors to try and follow a girl behind some windows.

He's quickly stopped by some guards, but he's clearly agitated.

"Maybe he could help?" You blink at Aris. "We need all the help we can get. I'll show him what I mean- you too."

○ ○ ○

If you knew when you'd escaped the Maze that you'd end up stuck in another round of twisting and confusing corridors in the form of the vent system, you might've actually killed someone.

Aris, on the other hand, seems happily at home as he crawls around the tight spaces.

You're awkwardly crouching around the corner whilst Aris goes to get this Thomas kid.

After a few seconds, your friend reemerges, with the boy hot on his heels. He blinks at you and you give an awkward peace sign before Aris hurries him along.

"Come on."

You both follow him through the vent system, Thomas in front of you.

"Hey, wait a second." Thomas grumbles, clearly questioning how he gets himself on these situations. "What the hell are we doing?"

"Come on, we're gonna miss it," Aris says.

"Sorry," you answer instead, "he thinks you might be able to help- he reckons something weird's goin' on here. I don't really know."

You crawl into a more open area- even you don't really know what's going on.

"What are we doing?" Thomas asks again and it's kind of funny that he even came in the first place.

"Shh. Come here," Aris waves you both over. You both hover over an open-ish vent that looks down over a corridor.

One of the doctors appears, following by a strange trolley that seems to have a person in a body bag with a screen over the face. The screen shows vitals and other medical information, making you and Thomas exchange concerned glances.

"What the hell was that?" Thomas asks for the both of you.

"They bring in new ones every night like clockwork." Aris answers.

"What do they do with them?" You ask, even though you probably already know the answer.

"I don't know. This is as far as I've ever gotten. The vents don't even go into that section. But once they go through that door, they don't come back out." Aris pauses, visibly shaken. "I don't think anyone ever really leaves this place."

"C'mon," you say, "we gotta go before someone notices we're gone."

"Why'd you show me this?" Thomas asks, stopping you both.

"Because maybe the others will listen to you. There's something weird going on here- I know you think so too."

"Hey, wait," you stop again, "what's your names?"

"Aris," your friend answers, "and this is (Y/N)."

And with that, your friend crawls ahead.

"You're Thomas, right?" He blinks at you. "I heard some of your friends say it in the cafeteria."

He nods, and you offer him a reassuring smile. "It's nice to meet you, Thomas."

○ ○ ○

Janson reads out more names of people as you sit in the dining area. Apparently, Aris and Thomas spoke briefly earlier- they have some kind of plan regarding a key card.

You're, quite frankly, scared to watch.

Thomas has told the members from Group A what he saw, they seem skeptical at best. But, they seem to be a strong group and with most of Group B gone, you have little choice but to hope Thomas can convince them.

Thomas suddenly stands up, storming towards the doors and trying to blend in with the people's whose names were called.

He's stopped fairly quickly.

You can't quite make out what's going on, but when a guard sharply points into Thomas' chest, you're already on your feet.

"(Y/N)-" Aris hisses, but the plan isn't going to work if Thomas gets himself in trouble. You can't let this go south.

Thomas pretends to walk away, before turning and diving into the guard. All of the Gladers are on their feet in seconds, jumping to Thomas' defence.

"What the hell's your problem, man?" Thomas shouts as he gets shoved again and you dive in.

Pushing the guy back, you stand protectively in front of the boy. "Back the fuck off, man- you think shoving a kid around makes you tough?"

The boys exchange glances.

Who is this girl? Where did she come from? How come she's helping Thomas? Why does Thomas get all the girls? What is happening?"

"Control your friend!" The guard yells just as Janson bursts through them.

"What's happening here?" Janson seems lost for a second as he looks at the boy. "Thomas? I thought we could trust each other." He touches the boys shoulder and you go to step forward again, only for Thomas to slightly put his arm out, stopping you from intervening.

"You know we're all on the same team here."

"Are we?" Thomas asks.

Janson seems irritated by this and you ball your fists. You could punch this guy and give the Gladers an easy distraction- it would give them and Aris time.

You think about it until a hand grabs your wrist. You look up and meet the eyes of an Asian boy. He's tall, tanned skin and dark, swept up hair. He's handsome, but something in his dark eyes is telling you to stop.

And for some reason, you do. Relaxing your muscles, but returning your attention to Janson- Minho doesn't let go.

"Get them to their bunks."

In a matter of seconds, you're all separated. You just about manage to get to Aris before going to your separate rooms- agreeing to meet at Thomas' vent.

You can hear bickering as you approach, just catching Aris before he knocks down the vent.

"Hey, Thomas," he says casually.

"What the...?" You catch from one of the boys.

"You got it, didn't you?"

"Yeah, yeah, let's go. Where's your friend?"

"Right here!" Your voice echos on the metal from behind Aris. "Getting real finchin' sick of crawlin' around, though."

"Alright, maybe you guys are right," Thomas says to his friends, "maybe I'm just paranoid. But I gotta find out for sure. Just cover for me, I'll be back as soon as I can."

Making the same trip as last time, Aris and Thomas jump down out of the vent, with you staying up there to help them get back up again and keep watch.

You anxiously crouch, watching as you wait for the boys to return.

"C'mon, guys," you mumble to yourself, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

What feels like hours passes, but it couldn't have been more than five minutes, when Thomas and Aris burst out of the room. Both of them are clearly worked up.

You open the vent. "C'mon!" Offering a hand, they struggle back up, but eventually they join you again. "What happened?"

"We gotta go," is all Thomas says, "we gotta go!"

The boys are rapid at getting through the vents, Thomas bursting into his friends room. He, quite literally, throws the vent cover across the room.

"Thomas!" Someone shouts as he frantically scrambles into the room.

"We gotta go! We gotta go right now!" Thomas says as you and Aris both struggle out of the vent, still yet to have an explanation from either of them.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Minho, whose name you're yet to learn, asks.

"What do you mean 'we gotta go'?" Newt adds on, all of the boys in a frenzy.

"They're coming! Come on! We gotta go!"

"Thomas! What's going on?" You try to grab him but he brushes past you, grabbing things and starting to try and block the door.

You look at Aris, who is completely shook to the core so there's no getting anything out of him.

"What happened?" Frypan yells. "Aris, what happened?" He shouts at the timid boy, getting too close.

"Don't shout at him!" You pull him away. "He's terrified! He ain't gonna tell you klank!"

"Thomas! Can you just calm down and talk to us!" Newt begs, the whole room in a frenzy.

"She's still alive!" Thomas says.

That's ominous.

"Who's she? Teresa?" Frypan asks.

"Who the finch is Teresa?" You ask.

"Ava." Thomas is blunt now.

"Ava?" Newt repeats, watching his friend desperately try and tie the door shut. "Will you just turn around and talk to us?"

"It's WCKD!" Thomas snaps, turning around to face you all. The group freezes. "It's still WCKD. It's always been WCKD."

"Shit," scrambling to help, Thomas seems almost relieved that someone else is doing something as you help him move a mattress to block the door.

"Thomas," Newt stops him. "What did you see?"

Thomas gives a very vague explantion- a video call with Ava Paige and bodies strung up and being tested on.

That's all you guys need to start your escape.

"Come on, let's go!" You usher all the boys towards the vent, letting them go before you.

The Asian boy from before is last, hesitating for a second.

"Ladies first?" He says.

"Minho!" Someone from inside the vent shouts. "Not the shuckin' time, man!"

"Go," you tell him and he obeys. At least you know his name now.

Thomas somehow ends up leading the way as you all try to fight through the crawl space.

He breaks out into a corridor you don't recognise, the rest of you hot on his heels.

"Come on! Come on!" He ushers you towards him. "Okay, okay, let's go!"

"You guys go ahead, there's something I gotta do," Aris states and you look at him.

"What are you talking about?" Thomas steps towards him.

"Trust me, it's important. You guys wanna get outta here, right? Just go."

"I'll go with him," one boy offers.

"Okay, Winston, go! Go!" Thomas takes charge, and you learn another boy's name. "Come on!"

You hesitate, watching Aris start to take off, you go to follow him but Thomas grabs you. "You're with us, okay? Stay close."

You're reluctant, but you nod.

"You sure we can trust this kid?" Minho asks.

"You don't wanna know where we'd be without him," you're glad to hear that Thomas has faith in your friend.

You turn a corner, immediately bumping into the same doctor you saw earlier. You all freeze.

"What are you kids doing out?" She asks.

Then the sirens start blaring.

Which is enough of a hint, I suppose.

"Move," you demand, stepping forward and grabbing the doctor. She struggles, but you grab her wrist, twisting it behind her back and pushing her in front of you. "You're gonna show us how to get outta here."

The boys exchange looks once again. But, Minho smirks- he almost impressed at this point.

"Let's move."

The group starts the make their way down the halls.

"We gotta get Teresa." Thomas states.

"Who?" You question him. "Who is that?"

"A friend."

"A friend? Seriously? We- oh, finch it, I don't know who any of you guys are either."

"I'm Newt, if that helps." The blond says.

"Frypan."

You look at him. "You're called Frypan?"

"I'm-"

"Yes, I know who you are, Minho."

Rounding another corner, you're almost immediately met by gunshot. You're quick to retreat, letting go of Dr Crawford as she also ducks for cover.

"They're shooting at us!"

"No shit!"

You back away, running in the other direction when Minho suddenly stops.

"Minho!" Thomas yells. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Minho!" You yell as the boy starts charging in the direction of the shooter.

Just as he rounds the corner, Minho jumps, kneeing the guy in the chest and causing him to crash into the wall, knocking him out cold.

All of you, including Crawford, run over, staring at the guy on the floor in some kind of awe.

"Shit, Minho," Newt says and you snort.

"Not bad, stick," you grin at him, watching as he smiles himself, "not bad at all."

Thomas grabs the Launcher, using it to direct the doctor as you make your way to this girl you don't know.

"Dr. Crawford," a scientist says as you force her to pretend to open the door, only for Thomas to follow her and everyone go into a panic.

"Where is she? Where is she!" Thomas is pointing the gun at anyone and everyone as they put their hands on their heads.

He passes the gun to Minho as he rips away a curtain, revealing a girl.

"Get down!" Minho yells. "Get down, now!"

The scientists and doctors all get on the ground as Newt starts tying their hands together to deem them less of a threat.

"You're never gonna get away with this!" Doctor Crawford threatens.

"Yeah?" You scoff. "Watch us."

"Guys!" Frypan, who's watching the door shouts. "They're coming! Where do we go?!"

"Frypan! Move!" Newt pushes over a medical table, shoving it in front of the door just as it's nearly forced open.

"Get back!" Minho grabs your wrist, pulling you behind him along with his friends. "Get back!" He points the gun at the door, keeping you all protected. "Okay! We gotta get outta here! Where do we go?"

"Everybody stand back!" Thomas yells, picking up a chair and slamming it against the glass window, only for it to bounce off. "Newt! Help! Help!"

The boy grabs another chair. "Ready?"

At the same time, they smash the glass, sending shards scattering everywhere as you use your hand to shield your face.

"Go! Go! Go!"

It's a blur of action and yelling as you all try to climb out of the window.

"Hurry! Go!" Minho yells, lingering back before tossing the Launcher to Thomas and jumping over himself.

"Stay behind me," Thomas instructs you all as he opens the door, revealing another Guard.

Which he immediately shoots.

In a burst of sparks and electricity, the man hits the floor, his body seizing and twitching uncontrollably.

You're stunned for a second, but you recollect fairly quickly. Running past the guy, all of you break into a sprint, eager to escape as you near the exit.

"There it is!" Reaching the door, Thomas tries the key card, which denies access.

"Shit! Come on!" Thomas begs. "No, no, no!"

"Thomas!" You spin to see Janson making his way down the corridor. Handing you the key card, he raises his weapon, walking towards them.

"Open the door, Janson!" He yells.

"You really don't want me to."

"Open the damn door!"

"Listen to me!" The Rat Man snaps. "I'm trying to save your life. The Maze is one thing, but you kids won't last a day out in the Scorch. If the elements don't kill you, the Cranks will. Thomas, you have to believe me. I only want what's best for you."

"Yeah, let me guess, WCKD is good?"

Whilst this exchange is going down, you're desperately trying to open the door. Both Newt and Minho stand by your sides, pushing and grabbing at the door to see if that does anything.

"You're not getting through that door, Thomas."

As if the Gods themselves were listening, the key pan suddenly lights up green. Whirring as it rises, it reveals Aris and Winston standing there.

"Hey, guys," Aris says and relief washes over you.

"You crazy bastard," you laugh. "Come on!"

"Thomas! Come on! Let's go!" Newt yells.

Thomas starts shooting, the amo quickly running out, so he launches the weapon towards them.

Janson barks orders down his radio and the door starts to quick close.

You all start to yell words of encouragement, pushing Thomas as he starts to bolt towards the door. He hits the floor, sliding aross the mouth surface as he slips under it.

"Move! Move!" Aris slams a pipe into the pad, breaking it as the rest of you grab as many supplies from nearby as possible.

You're in some kind of warehouse area, all of you sprinting towards another set of giant doors; WCKD personnel flooding from all areas.

You reach them first, pulling on a handle and having to cover your face from flying sand as they open.

Running out into the desert, all you can do is tell each other to keep moving, and that you'll lose them in the storm. It's dark and windy and hard to run.

Following the girl, she finds a building buried in the sand, and you're the first to following as you slip into the shelter.

Eventually, you all have a moment to catch your breaths, using a flashlight to illuminate your new surroundings.

You're too busy examining to listen to Thomas' full explanation and the Gladers' arguing.

Eventually, they come up with some plan to find the Right Arm and you find footsteps.

You start moving, deciding to stay close to Minho because he has the best light source.

"You were pretty good back there," you attempt to make some light-hearted conversation since you just risked your life with this kid.

"Yeah? You weren't so bad yourself." You chuckle, accepting his compliment. "I, uh, I never caught your name."

"What? Tommy-boy didn't tell you?" You raise an eyebrow and Minho shakes his head.

Even in the dark, it's easy to see how attractive the boy is. He's well built and effortlessly charming. And impressive from the stunts he pulled before.

You might just develop a crush on this kid.

"(Y/N)."

He hums in response. "I like it; (Y/N), really rolls off the tongue."

You roll your eyes, but hearing him say your name does make you feel a typa way.

The feeling is mutual, too. Bold and quick-thinking, but also caring and easy to talk to. Not to mention you're easily the most attractive girl Minho has seen (which isn't many but that's not the point.)

"Minho! Quit flirting with the new girl and give us a hand!" Newt shouts, making you try to repress a smirk.

"I wasn't flirting!" Even in the dim light, you can see Minho's reddened expression.

"Sure, you weren't!"

Confident and smooth, but easily flustered.

Good to know.

He turns to you. "I wasn't flirting."

You grin. "Uh-huh."

He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out and he ends up looking like a fish out of water.

You snort. "Yanno, you can flirt with me, if ya want to. I don't mind." You playfully wink at him, unsure if he can even see it before you jog off, catching up to your friend.

He watches as you throw an arm over Aris' shoulder before he puts an arm around your back.

Minho stands there, grinning like the Cheshire Cat before dropping his head and shaking it to himself.

"Okay, lover boy, c'mon," Thomas says, having watched the whole exchange, "you're with me."

"Shut up, shank," Minho playfully pushes his friend, "don't you wanna be with your girlfriend, anyway?"

"I should be asking you that." Minho rolls his eyes.

But he smirks.

Yeah, okay, maybe he likes you. After all, you can't really nearly die with a hot girl without catching feelings, can you?

Okay, so, not quite as good as some of my other pieces and there's barely any romance, but that tends to happen with my pieces that I have to pull the movie up for lol.

Maybe a part 2 is in order again? Well, you guys will have to let me know about that.

I hope you enjoyed :))

#🌿 petri writes #🌿 petri writes tmr #🌿 petri tmr minho #🍃 petri tmr #tmr fanfiction #tmr minho #minho tmr #minho the maze runner #minho tmr x reader #tmr imagines #minho maze runner

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perseusannabeth · 4 months

Text

Chapter 1

A/N: Hi everyone, and happy holidays! This is my contribution to the @acotargiftexchange for the lovely @talkfantasytome! I want to thank the organisers for this absolutely brilliant event. It's looking like this fic will be 3 chapters, so fingers crossed that the rest of the parts will come soon!

This has chef Cassian and writer Nesta, aka my favourite combo. I also have to warn you, as per usual, Cassian's Illyrian cooking is in fact how I cook as a south Asian person.

AO3 is currently down, so I won't be able to post this on there until later, but it will be added. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this!

Summary: Cassian is deeply concerned about the fact that his neighbour cannot cook at all. He decides to start cooking for her to save her from an early death, and it becomes so much more.

Cassian had lived in his current apartment for a long enough time to know most of the people in the building. It wasn't a massive building, so it wasn't hard to run into people. The only person he hadn't run into was his neighbour, who had moved in 3 months ago.

Thankfully, there were signs of life, like the post being checked, and he could hear the door opening and closing. The most concerning thing he noticed was that his new neighbour seemed friendly with the fast food delivery drivers. Cassian didn't like judging food choices because he knew that people around him already felt self-conscious when they talked about food. Being a chef meant people assumed he knew best, but he could easily teach people he was willing to learn. Still, his neighbour was concerning him a lot. They must be on their way to a heart attack with the amount of fast food they consumed, and from Cassian's observation, they sometimes got food at least once a day or more. But Cassian had never assumed his neighbour's eating habits would affect him.

"So, have you seen her around? It's been a few days, that's all, and I'm a little worried about her," said his delivery driver, Toby.

"I'm sorry, I'm so tired right now that my brain barely functions. Please, can you repeat yourself?"

"Nesta, your neighbour. She orders from us daily, but I've not had any deliveries for her for 3 days. I'm just a little worried about her, that's all," Toby said, blushing now. The poor guy couldn't be more than 20 years old. At 20 years old, Cassian can't imagine he would've had the guts to do what Toby was doing, so he had to hand it to the guy.

"I'm sorry, I haven't heard from her," Cassian replied, unwilling to admit he'd never seen her before and had just learned her name from Toby. "I'll check on her though, don't worry," Cassian said, to both reassure the man and to get him to leave because, god damn it, his food was getting cold!

"Thanks, man, I really appreciate it. She seems nice, and she tips really well." Toby smiled. Cassian just nodded awkwardly and then waited for Toby to finally (finally) move from his door.

Cassian practically inhaled his food because, yes, he had promised his delivery driver that he would check on his neighbour, but if he was going to check on a potentially dead person, he would not be doing it while he was hungry. Fuck that; he had been in the restaurant since 6am, and he had planned on eating and then collapsing in bed. Now he had to check on his potentially dead neighbour because the delivery boy liked her tips!

By the time he had finished his food, he had managed to work up some energy, mostly just the rage he had to check on his neighbour and delay his sleep. Still, before leaving his flat, he checked his attitude at the door because he didn't want to be rude. He was being neighbourly, even if he was tired.

When he knocked on the door and didn't hear any movement on the other side of the door, he was suddenly wide awake. He had horrific visions of breaking the door down and finding a corpse as he knocked again, trying to delay the rescue mission playing out in his head. When the door flew open, Cassian nearly jumped out of his skin.

The lady in front of him looked pretty annoyed at him, especially as he gawped at her like an idiot. Her hair was pulled up in something that might have once been a bun but was now just a tangled mess. She was in a long t-shirt that had seen better days; it was stained and faded, and underneath, she wore leggings that were in a similar state. But somehow, despite all this and the deep bags under her eyes, she still was the most beautiful woman Cassian had ever seen.

"Can I help you?" The woman said, giving him a quick once over.

That snapped Cassian out of his trance. "Sorry, erm, I'm looking for someone called Nesta?" Cassian asked awkwardly.

The woman had gone from droll to actively suppressing a laugh. "Oh my god, did Emerie actually do it? Are you a male stripper?"

Cassian's eyes widened as he quickly stepped back to distance himself from the beautiful, crazy woman. "Woah, I have no idea who Emerie is. I'm flattered you think I could pass for a stripper, but I'm no magic Mike. I'm Cassian, and I'm your neighbour." Cassian said, pointing at the open door to his apartment.

'Oh," the woman said, now also looking awkward.

"Look, I just need to know if you're Nesta and if you're alright. I ordered some food, and the delivery driver said he was worried because he hadn't heard from you in a few days," Cassian explained, not wanting to linger in awkward silence.

The woman's face went bright red at that, so Cassian assumed that this was, in fact, the mysterious Nesta who tipped really well and ordered food every single day. "Listen, I'm assuming you're Cassian, the chef Mrs Culpepper mentioned. I can only imagine what you think of me since Toby felt chatty today. I'm gonna be honest with you, I can't cook. My friend said not to burn down the building, so I've not tried. Really, my takeaway habit is saving everyone, and as my neighbour, you should be grateful, so don't judge me,"

Cassian held his hands up in surrender. "I'm not judging. Just because I enjoy cooking doesn't mean I assume everyone will. I am, however, slightly concerned. Is that all you eat? That can't be good for your health," Cassian said, frowning as he calculated how expensive that must be and the calories. He wasn't the best with numbers, so he couldn't be sure, but he was pretty sure that was a bad time.

"My friend said the same thing, so she batch-cooked me a few meals. I've got a deadline for work, so I've been even worse than usual, but that's why I haven't ordered any food. When it runs out, which will probably be tomorrow, I'll be back to ordering from Toby," she said with a shrug.

"Okay, I said I'm not judging, but that sounds horrific. I can't let you carry on like that. I don't think my conscience can take it," Cassian said, looking at her wide-eyed. The way this woman was going, she'd be dead of a heart attack in no time.

"I'll be fine; you don't need to take pity on me," Nesta said defensively.

"Listen, it's Nesta, right?" she nodded, eyeing him suspiciously now, which made him want to laugh. She hadn't been suspicious before, but now he was questioning her food intake; she was wary of him. "I get to take leftovers from my work. It's one of the perks, but there's sometimes a lot. I tend to bring them home and make myself something with whatever random stuff there is. It's way healthier than ordering out and helps me not waste food. It's a win-win situation for both of us, really."

"So, you're basically offering to be my personal chef?" Nesta said, trying to figure out what the catch was.

"Well, within reason. If there's anything you hate or won't eat, I'll consider it, and obviously, any allergies. And if you want something specific, I don't mind making that, too, as long as I have enough time to get the ingredients. And I don't really mind cooking; if I didn't love it, I wouldn't do it as my job."

A silence lingered, and Cassian wondered if he had gone in too hard on the sales pitch. He wouldn't be shocked if she said no; it was a weird request from your neighbour, whom you'd only met. But there was something about this woman that made Cassian want to offer to cook for her outside of work. His friends knew he never shared his food, not when he was outside of work. He made traditional Illyrian dishes when he was at home. It was a way for him to stay connected with his culture and mother despite his distance. These recipes had been handed down through generations of his mother's family, but there was something private and intimate about them. But he would share them with his neighbour.

"Are you even real?" Nesta said, staring at him in a bit of a daze. Then, she reached out and poked him in the cheek. "You feel real," she said as she continued poking his cheek.

"I- I think I'm real?" Cassian stuttered, really not sure how he should react. Cassian wasn't shy, but this woman was just something else.

Clearly, his talking pulled her out of whatever daze she was in. "I'm so sorry; I've been working non-stop for my next deadline, so I'm losing my grip on reality right now," Nesta said, shaking her head to get rid of whatever weird thoughts were in her head.

Cassian pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Add your number, and I'll text you so you have mine. Then, you can text me any allergies or anything you wouldn't eat. I'll probably just tell you some dishes I can make with the leftovers, and you can let me know what sounds good. Is that okay with you?" Cassian said.

Nesta nodded, handing his phone back with her number added. Cassian shot her a quick text and then put his phone away. "Thank you," Nesta said awkwardly. "You really don't need to do that, but I'm certainly not going to look a gift horse in the mouth," she said with a shrug and a quick smile.

Cassian smiled back, said his goodbyes and went back to his apartment. As he shut his door, he took his neighbour in, who was watching him walk away with a contemplative look on her face. He shook his head, shutting his door. Cassian was doing a good deed for his hot neighbour, but he hoped and prayed that his friends wouldn't find out about it.

With that, he quickly got ready for bed, practically collapsing into his bed. As he drifted off to sleep, he noticed that he was smiling and had been since he had said goodbye to his neighbour.

***

Cassian had forgotten entirely about the events of the night before when he woke up in the morning. It was so surreal; it felt like a dream. It wasn't until he was getting ready for his morning run that he realised it was true.

He had a strict no phones policy in the mornings, mainly because his doom-scrolling habit was an awful way to start the day. So until he was ready to leave the house, he wouldn't look at his phone. It had helped with his mental health a lot and made waking up for his job so much easier, too.

Since he had the day off, he slept till 9, which was late for someone who left the house at 4am every day for work. When he finally looked at his phone, he froze for a second, because there was a message from his neighbour.

Once he had processed that yesterday had, in fact, not been a dream, he quickly made a note of the things she didn't like (kale being called the devil's lettuce made him laugh way more than it should've); he had a quick glance in the fridge to see what he could make. He figured he would make a quick tuna and avocado sandwich for lunch, and then for dinner, he would make pasta. Both seemed reasonably safe first options for her meals. Then, he could also give her leftover pasta for lunch the next day.

As he finally left and started his run, he realised this could be the perfect opportunity to work on some new recipes for the restaurant. He wanted to update the menu and add more traditional recipes, but he had been nervous to test them out on anyone. By the time he got to the point he turned back, he had a massive grin on his face. He whipped his phone out and sent Nesta a text.

Cassian: I've just had an idea. How would you feel being my new taster for some experimental recipes?

Her reply was instant, which surprised him.

Nesta: you're doing me a favour so if i can help then i'm good with that. Although idk if i'm the best taste tester since my own culinary skills start and end at cereal

Cassian: All I need is your honest opinion, everyone else in my life is too biased.

Nesta: i'm not afraid of cutting a man down, so dw

Cassian laughed at her message, sending her a quick laughing emoji before he put his phone back to go back home. He was in a good mood and excited about cooking for someone new. Of course, he got to cook for new people at his job every day, but cooking for someone one-on-one was so different. He could get her reactions, and she would give him feedback. This wasn't just a faceless customer; it was his neighbour.

When he had assembled the sandwich, he put it into a Tupperware box and then cleaned up the kitchen. Once he was done, he finally gave Nesta her sandwich, trying to ignore the excitement and nerves bubbling in his stomach as he knocked on her door.

Nesta flung the door open with a massive smile on her face. "Well, hello there, neighbour," she said, wiggling her eyebrows at him. "What do you have for me?" Nesta said, looking at the box with excitement.

"I've got a tuna and avocado sandwich with red onion and some homemade sriracha mayo," Cassian said, presenting her the food with a flourish.

Nesta didn't hesitate to open the box to have a look. "Oh wow, this looks so good, like one of those fancy coffee shop sandwiches which is really over-priced. Did you make the bread, too?" she asked, tapping the sourdough.

"Oh nah, absolutely not; I'm not much of a bread maker; it's so faffy, but I love the smell of fresh bread. There's another chef in the restaurant who makes bread, but there's never any left, so this is just some supermarket bread."

"Oh, well, I thought you used leftovers," Nesta said with a frown.

"I do, but I like to jazz them up, so I use things I have at home, too. Don't worry about it, though."

"Nah, absolutely not. I need to pay you for this if you're using your money to feed me. That's not fair on you!" she exclaimed. "I'm not a charity case."

"I don't think you are!" Cassian said, alarmed. "You're going to help me, remember. Maybe I'll develop a new menu for the restaurant."

"I still want to contribute to this because you're saving me a lot of money. Let me pay half towards your groceries at least," Nesta said sternly.

"I- okay if you insist, but I feel bad taking your money," Cassian said awkwardly.

"Well, that's too bad. Text me your bank details, and I'll transfer you the money, and if you don't, I'll just have to hunt you down and hurt you," she threatened.

"You seem like a busy woman, so I'll try to avoid that happening," Cassian winced. Changing the subject, he asked, "So I never asked, but what do you do?"

"Oh, I'm a writer!" Nesta said excitedly.

"Oh wow, that's amazing! What kind of stuff do you write? I've not had time to read in a while, but maybe I should start that up again."

Nesta's eyes widened at that. "Do not read my books. You're not the target audience, and frankly, I would probably have to avoid you if I knew you'd read them."

Cassian frowned at her, and then it dawned on him. "Oh my god, you write porn books!" he exclaimed.

"They're romance books! Sometimes they might have some smut, but they're not porn!" she hissed.

"Right, of course! Well, I'm gonna get going since you've probably got some sex scene left to right or something," Cassian said with a shit-eating grin.

Nesta froze but then smirked. "Actually, I finished writing that last night after you left. You know, since you weren't the male stripper I was hoping for," she said before turning around and slamming the door in his face. He stood there gaping for a while before eventually shaking himself out of it. My god, that woman was something else.

***

"Cassian bheta! It's been too long since you called me," his mother said as she answered the phone. He had decided to ring her while he cooked because it was the best way to cook. He couldn't help but smile at his mother calling him son in their native language. He loved his Illyrian culture; the fact his mother had taught him so much of it gave him such pride.

"Mama, I called you 2 days ago, and I've been texting you too!" he protested with a smile as he diced onion.

"But you're my baby, my bacha, you don't understand. One day, when you have your own children, then you'll understand," she loved saying that line. It was one of his favourites. Now, he was nearing 30 and not even close to being married.

He ignored her comment, knowing no good could come from delving into that subject. "Mama, I'm making Illyrian-style pasta for my neighbour right now."

"Ohh, is your neighbour Illyrian too? Rhys's mum told me that the lady who used to live across the road from her has a daughter in the city! Her name is-"

"Mama! Velaris is a big city; you know I won't run into every Illyrian here, so stop trying to match-make! My neighbour isn't Illyrian, but she said she's happy to try different things. I'm cooking for her because she can't cook for herself."

"She can't cook?" his mother said, sounding scandalised.

"No, and let me tell you, how I met her was crazy."

He relayed the events of yesterday evening while he sauteed the onion in some ghee, diced up some bell peppers and drained the sweetcorn. After the onions started to go soft, he added the basaar, a mix of spices that Illyrians added to almost every dish.

"Well, it's a good thing you're here to look after this girl; the poor thing has been living off those takeaways; she's in desperate need of some good, home-cooked food!" his mother said the word takeaway like it was dirty. She had always been very strict about eating out when they were younger, telling him they could make it better at home. Only as he got older did he realise they probably couldn't afford to eat out for more than the occasional treat.

"That's why I offered mama."

"That's because you're my good bacha," she said fondly. "What's this neighbour's name anyway? And what does she do?" she asked.

Cassian smiled. Illyrian mothers could never resist fishing for gossip, even if it was people they didn't know. "Oh, her name is Nesta, and she said she's a romance writer."

His mother gasped, making him almost drop the pasta as he drained it. "Are you cooking for the famous writer, Nesta Archeron?" his mother asked, her excitement tangible.

"I don't actually know her surname. Why?" he asked, suspicious.

"Oh my god, Cassian!" her mother screamed, so excited that she didn't seem to mind busting her son's eardrums. "Cassian, that woman is my favourite author!"

His eyes widened at that. "Mama! I don't want to know if you read those books!" he said, taking deep breaths and trying to clear his mind of that information.

"Pfft, why? Those books are brilliant, and you're a grown man now, stop being a baby. There are no men in my life, but those fictional men are something else," his mother sounded breathless, which was just too disturbing to think about.

"Mama! Stop, I'll be sick if you carry on, and then how can I feed your favourite author?"

His mother was outraged at that. "Listen here, you! She's writing her next book, so you better feed her well because I've been waiting for this book for a year."

"Geez, mama, I promise I will; now I have to go. I'll give it to her now while it's warm." He said, sprinkling cheese on the pasta he had put in the two Tupperware boxes for Nesta. His mother said her goodbyes because he needed to feed Nesta, not because he said he needed to go. She made it clear her loyalties lie with Nesta, which was concerning.

He knocked on Nesta's door, and she came quickly this time. She eagerly handed him an empty box from lunch, which had been washed, and took the pasta.

"I'm not sure if you know this, but I can smell when you're cooking things, so I've been able to smell this for a while, and I'm starving right now. This smells absolutely amazing, so if this is what Illyrian food is like, keep it coming," Nesta said, not taking her eyes off the pasta.

"Well, this isn't Illyrian food; this is just pasta with an Illyrian twist on it, in all fairness, but I'll keep that in mind." Nesta nodded eagerly. "By the way, my mother wanted me to check. Are you the author, Nesta Archeron?"

Nesta looked up at that. "Yes, I am," she said slowly.

"Right, well, my mother is a big fan and said I need to feed you well so you can write your book because she's very excited. She's basically gonna disown me if I don't cook well for you," he laughed.

Nesta smiled at that. "She sounds sweet. Let her know that you're doing an excellent job."

Cassian smiled back and returned to his apartment, giving her instructions about how she needed to eat the 2nd box for lunch tomorrow because he would be at work. Nesta thanked him profusely, licking her lips as she eyed the pasta.

Cassian got out of there quickly after that because seeing Nesta lick her lips did something weird that he didn't want to think about. He had only met the woman yesterday, so whatever he felt, he would ignore it.

He got a text as he dug into his own pasta while watching a modern family rerun on TV.

Nesta: this might be the best pasta i've ever had omg you're a god!!!

Nesta: i would eat this for the rest of my life if i could

Cassian: It's not too spicy for you?

Nesta: nah, this is fine, the tomatoes calm it down. Idk if i'm strong enough to handle more than this tho, my tastebuds are probs dead with everything i eat

Cassian: Lolll, noted

Cassian cleared his dishes and got into bed since he'd have an early night the next day. Before putting his phone away, he quickly googled his neighbour, and lo and behold, a list of her books came up. She was popular, and he had to admit, he was impressed. Her fans were practically rabid for her next book. It looked like a series, so he ordered the first book before he could think about it too deeply.

Please let me know if you'd like to be added/ removed from my tags list:

@sannelovesreading @bookstantrash @superspiritfestival @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @sayosdreams @letstakethedawn @and-she-burns-with-it @nahthanks @arinbelle @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @claralady @rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @tswaney17 @duskandstarlight @live-the-fangirl-life @oversizedbats @nestaisgod @vidalinav @vanserrass @moodymelanist @emily-gsh @lady-winter-sunrise @dread3r @starryblueskies7 @simpingfornestaarcheron @mis-lil-red @catplayinvioline @vinylcryes @starksravings @vasudharaghavan @a-court-of-valkyries @nestaspegasus @sv0430 @champanheandluxxury @nesquick-arccheron @a-little-disguised @nestable @illyrianshadowhunter @readiajin @lordof-bloodshed @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @rachmkerch123456 @autumnbabylon

#nessian #cassian x nesta #nesta archeron #acotar #nesta x cassian

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call-sign-shark · 2 months

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Following the heart-wrenching posts of @red-riding-wood, @kittenonpluto and @aurorag98 I feel like I have to write this. By no means I have experienced traumatizing interactions with @mrkdvidal1989 aka Killian Vidal but this whole situation and what he did to girls here make me enraged.

First of all, I want to reassure all the beloved mutuals who have been reaching out to me or who have been worried about my well-being because they saw me interacting a few times with Killian. I am perfectly fine and I'm not much here this week because I have been working a lot.

As for my relationship with Killian... Well, we were barely talking to each other actually. I know I am bad at replying to my DMs but this is not the reason why I ghosted him -- I purposefully did so because, like many of you, the guy gave me the biggest red flags. We talked a few times, and he called me hot when he saw the gym pics/selfies I posted. He quickly suggested we meet together to go to the gym and watch horror movies during my stay in the UK and to this I replied positively while knowing I would never ever do so. Right from the start I suspected him to be a liar and I felt he had built up everything about his life. Also, I come from a military family with many relatives working in special units of the French Navy, and let me tell you something: I screamed at the thought of a former soldier (from the SAS!! lmao) spending all of his time writing reader-insert fanfic for a female audience and discussing with Cillian fangirls. I don't say it's impossible, but it's VERY unlikely.

To me, Killian was just an attention-seeking catfish I'd never meet and who I found both boring and childish. In my opinion, I thought he just wanted to have a small court around him to strut around, nothing more. I tried to search for info about him to warn people, I mean I even doubted he was a man... However, I found nothing plus he seemed to be IRL friends with a few mutuals here who actually chatted with him via phone so I didn't want to take the risk of spreading hate about someone just because of a gut feeling. Never in a million years, I would have imagined he was toying with girls from the Peaky Blinders community, collecting nudes, gaslighting/harassing them, breaking them into pieces, promising marriage, and going as far as to promise a life-saving medical treatment to a dear friend of mine. I am devastated by what I have read this morning, and "devasted" is not even powerful enough. Learning from Red that he talked about fucking me when we meet while we never talk about sex, never flirted or anything (we just small-talked once in a while lmao) might be a bit creepy but it's nothing compared to what he has done to girls here.

I am deeply sorry to all the people who have been hurt by his horrible actions and are now facing long-term consequences because of him, some of them being my close mutuals. I send positive vibes, love, and healing to every one of you who had to deal with this psycho. I know a lot of people have already said that but my DMs are opened if you need a safe place. The Peaky Blinders / Cillian Murphy community is a nice place, maybe the most welcoming place I've ever seen on the Internet but we should all keep in mind that it is not safe from ill-intentioned users and predators. Please stay safe and, for the victims, don't blame yourself. You haven't been naive nor stupid or anything. The only one to blame is the person behind Killian Vidal's persona, and for the evil you've done, I hope you'll get fucked with a chainsaw. Or just fucking rot in hell.

Shark.

#PSA #predator warning #Cillian Murphy #Peaky Blinders #Mrkvidal1989

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letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 10 months

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Hiiii.

So, not one but two jobs just fell through. I'm currently visiting friends (because of course I get this news while on vacation) but as soon as I get back home I'll start applying places, but let's be honest, even if I succeed in getting a second job (yes, I already have a job, no it doesn't pay all my bills, welcome to hell) I don't know if that'll be enough to cover everything. I was really depending on these jobs, I was promised them for months. Ask any of my close friends, they've been hearing me chant "I just have to make it until July" since January.

And yet, here we are. So.

A couple months ago I decided to take the plunge and start up a Patreon to share my original work and help support my writing career as I begin the journey of self publishing my novels. But I know that some people only want to read my fanfic (and that's okay!) so I made a special $3-a-month-tier just for you guys.

(I do also have a ko-fi, but honestly, a steady income on Patreon would benefit me a lot more.)

If ten percent of the average reader count on my fics were to sign up for the $3, I could pay half my bills every month and I wouldn't have to find a second job. Obviously I don't expect that many people to sign up, but I hope that expresses just how much every little bit helps me.

If you sign up for $3 you get no notifications, no emails, nothing, you do not get bothered by me. You would, however, probably get those fanfics you've all been waiting on because I would actually have time to write them (I'm seriously worried I won't get even my Halloween fics done in time because I've had no time or energy to write them, and I started working on these fics in January). You can sign up for a higher tier if you want of course, but if you're not interested in my original work or pictures of my cats you probably want to stick to $3.

(For free updates on my novels and such you can follow me @lincolnchristie - my A Masque of Shadows Ao3 updates will be posted there, for example).

I've had to ask for help from the tumblr community before, and I hated it, and I hate it now, but this time I do feel a little better about it because I'm not asking while giving nothing back. I truly do hate self-promotion but every little bit helps. The appreciation and enthusiasm I've gotten from people on tumblr and on Ao3 in response to my writing the last few years has been truly amazing, and so I hope that I've created stories you love enough that, if you have the spare change, you'll consider helping to support me as I embark on my professional writing career and try to keep the lights on.

It's been a tough year and a tough few months for me and I'm sure it has for everyone reading this, too. Please stay safe and take care of yourself, and thank you for taking the time to read this. Even if you can't sign on, reblogging also really helps. Thank you.

#about mads #mads writes stuff #literally getting this news when I won't even be home for a week is just #I learned about the one job last week and just got the email on this one #so it's been fun #but yes I am working on the fanfics I just haven't had time while trying to pay my bills #and also revise my novels #so if people have the spare money and like my fanfic and want more of it #and/or would like to help me have the time to get my novels publish-ready #it would mean the world to me #I'm going to go disappear now so I can full-body cringe over this post in peace

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quinloki · 1 month

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Mini vent feel free to ignore

NGL I've always been proud of my height(178cm/5'10) but damn if trying to read x reader fics isn't difficult... I'm never going to be small or petite and I dunno it's hard. Glad 1P gives me a taste of that with how ridiculously sized some of the guys are

No, I can appreciate those feels.

It's one of those things where I do try to make my readers as neutral as possible, but also like - I have been a full 5'00" since I was 12.

That's 30 years at this height.

There is probably a *lot* of stuff I write that unconsciously marks the reader as Short-SHORT without meaning to, because it's a default perspective for me. Now, granted, when I'm writing Kid, or Crocodile, or Doffy, these are BIG guys. Everyone is going to feel small, an Kid's not just big in a height sense, he's a BIG GUY.

I also avoid describing body types anymore than I have to, but I don't think I could write a specifically fat reader. I mean, *I* am fat, I am most certainly 100% Not Thin, or slender, or athletic in any capacity. But I mean, I'm also flexible, and I might have way more stomach than I'd like, but I can still lift the back end of an empty Prius.

To which, I just mean, fat doesn't equate to someone being fit or not, so even when I write a feisty reader, I don't *mean* to imply they're fit. Or not. I mean to try and leave it open to the reader themselves.

The hardest part of X Readers isn't just trying to make them as close to one-size-fits-all as you can, but also in understanding we all make assumptions on both sides of the equation. Writer and Reader both.

That said, representation is awesome, so I LOVE x reader stories that do get into some description. Black Readers, Fat Readers, [Insert Whatever here] Readers, Readers that are almost practically OCs.

In the end, the author should enjoy writing it, and the reader should enjoy reading it, and that requires a lot of work on both sides. Cause even self-indulgent writing is still a lot of work, and shifting through mountains of fic is also a good bit of work.

But, I do understand your frustration. I've heard a few people struggle with it... You know, I realize this is on anon, but if there's a story I've written that you've really enjoyed, if there's ANYTHING you want to take time to point out to me and say "this really implies smallness because in my experience x,y,z." I can't promise anything, but it wouldn't hurt either.

It'd be good education for me - learning about other people's experiences will always help me be a better writer. I've certainly experienced a lot personally, but I'll still only ever have my own perspective. I can't promise I'll write a specifically-tall-reader story, but it might help me pull my writing into more truly neutral territory so I'm not subconsciously just writing all I know.

#quin answers #anon asks #the upside to fan fiction is that there is a LOT #the downside is that there is a LOT #and it can be hard to find what you're looking for #especially if you don't really KNOW what you're looking for #but that's digressing a little from the point of this post #anyway I mean it - if you're tall and can give me specific tips and pointers based on what I've written #that would help me.#x reader #reader insert #hang in there anon!

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belong2human-kind · 1 year

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I just LOVE how all these times, being a Sabine and Ezra shipper, I would imagine this fluff stuff of Sabine wearing his clothes daily because... have you ever borrowed a male clothing before??? Like any??? THEY ARE SO COMFORTABLE

And ofc, to give it some sniffs too because THE SCENT OF THE PERSON YOU stole it BORROWED FROM IS THERE, and you will genuinely feel so close to them. And this isn't strictly related to lovers, no, it can be anyone who you have a strong bond and relationship. I've had my best friends (male, female, nb, all my closest ones) clothes and when I'd miss them too much, I'd give their clothes hugs and sniffs, but I won't lie that this surely happens waaaay more and more frequently with my boyfriend.

And yes, I made THOUSANDS of unfinished fics (promise I'll post them here or on Ao3 someday) where Sabine will walk around with his shirts, pants, jackets and everything she can while he is still around to tease her bc of it and ESPECIALLY since he went missing, where she is just using to feel more close to him now that he is gone and guess what???

Tell me this isn't one of his long sleeve shirts! It's TOTALLY HIS! I mean, why wouldn't it be??? She is living in HIS OLD HOME, his refuge and shelter during all the worst times of his life, his safe place to meditate and be alone with his self, with the memory of their parents who used to fight against the empire using the communication tower, the area he keeps his helmet collection, sleeps in, keep valuable things from his past, a place so meaningful to him and SHE IS LIVING THERE LIKE HE LEFT IT FOR HERE TO DECLARE HER OWN, GUYS SHE MADE IT HER OWN HOME!

She lives in his home, has his saber, painting a huge wall in memory of him so she could STROKE GENTLY HIS CHEEKS (yeah don't say that during the epilog was the first time she ever done that, I won't buy it) and also spent 10 years taking care of everything he loved and gave his life to protect, his planet and people, like SHE WAS ONE OF THEM! Like they almost meant to her as much as it meant for him. Also, should I keep going and say that her pass time is to turn on the holocron to re-watch his message with the white loth-cat she just adopted??? The one creature that was the most connected to this man????

She for sure is wearing his clothes. She seems to be wanting to be a part of him, just like when she painted a Loth-Cat, the white Loth-Cat on the core of her phoenix symbol. It's like what @jessicas-pi said about the mandalorian's marriage vows, like she want her and him to be one, together or apart, one.

And I am so happy because I've been imagining this happening in my headcanons since the end of the series, listening to the song Hoodie, and now this song and this gift, man, they give me life. I need to see them reunite as much as I need food to survive.

And if they won't turn out as a romantic couple like a lot of people want, I'll be sad but conformed with platonic because in my head they will always be canon, they will always be the best f*cking duo and partners I ever seem. Their connection is stronger than a kiss in screen, and although I'd live and love to see that, they don't need it. They never needed to be so linked with each other, to be so in sync. They do love each other in a way that maybe we can't even label or describe, and that's for sure.

They may never be romantic, but they surely are one, together or apart, they are one! 💙🧡💜🤍

#ezra bridger #sabine wren #star wars rebels #ahsoka show #sabezra #ezrabine #the best duo #the best partners on the galaxy #their connection is unbelievable #they have something in their relationship that no one will ever take from them #they are one #they are one and the same #together or apart #they will always be one #Spotify #hoodie #hoodie hey violet #hey violet

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queenofbaws · 5 months

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ho. ly. cow.

it's been a minute, huh??? well hi there, just a quick update from me, your friendly local scavenger animal hiding behind park trash cans: this holiday season sure can...holiday, amiright???

alas, i'm not going to be sharing any snippets in this one since i'm currently focusing on secret santa stuff and to share that would be, y'know, defeating the whole 'secret' part of things 🤫 but i'm really, really hoping to get back into some flash fiction during the final 2 weekends of december, so if you're lookin' for some sort of NYE drabble this year, now's the time to start cookin' those prompt ideas in your brain hehehe

but other than that, as i've been telling my dear, dear, extremely talented bud @unicornaffair (go read her stuff rn i promise you'll thank me), i'm hoping that 2024 will be the year where i can tie off a bunch of loose ends on my wip list. i am. desperate. to finish some of these, hahaha, so for the sake of accountability, i'm gonna throw my (ROUGH) writing plans for the year under a readmore. if you're interested for a sneak peek of what 2024 MIGHT bring, feel free to check it out!

as always, i hope you're all doing as well as you possibly can right now <3 the end of the year can be a tough time for a lot of reasons, so i'm doing my best to take my own advice and take it easy on myself. i hope you are too! <3

Projects I'm focusing on FINISHING:

-Until Dawn CREEPs: Of Mummy Men & Bathtub Soup (so close. so. so close.) -Dragon Age: The Tale(s) of the Champion (ooooh we're halfway there, ahhhhhh it's Hawke with the steel chair) -The Quarry/UD: Like Wringing Blood From a Stone (this one is. extremely fuckin ambitious, but what i've POSTED is ALMOST the halfway point of the story, and i have. a disgusting amount waiting to be posted so who fuckin knows. maybe.)

Projects I've been working on INSTEAD of my priorities and that I'm really hoping to be able to share but refuse to elaborate on because if i get too excited about them i'll forego the projects above:

-UD CREEPs: [Secret Title], a CREEPs fic from Ashley's pov - The fridge ghost returns -UD CREEPs: [Also a secret title], a CREEPs fic from Josh's pov - They JUST finished remodeling! -UD: If Found, Please Return - Sam writes Hannah a letter -UD/TQ: before the dawn, a bad moon rises - Emily Davis gets her hair sniffed -TQ: Fireside Tales - You kids really should've stayed in the lodge like Mr. H told you to -Little Hope: Storytelling 101 - Don't trust the guy running the souvenir shop in the burnt-down witch village. Please. Just don't do it.

Projects that remain up in the air under a flashing ?????? sign but definitely live in my wip folder and stare at me every time i go to write:

-Dragon Age: Well...Shit -UD: THE PIG FIC -UD: A very unexpected Valentine's Day -UD: Fuck No: The Movie: The Beginning -Dragon Age: As-of-yet-unnamed Hawke/Varric fic where they pretend to be married SPECIFICALLY to antagonize a marriage counselor -TQ: Firewatch AU -UD CREEPs: Dr. Hill and the Curator's very own fic, the fic <3

#queenie rambles #one of these days i'm gonna figure out how to be more organized and prioritize things appropriately #today however im going to continue filling notebooks with random projects until something comes together aklsjdfkljs

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usedpidemo · 4 months

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Update - Happy New Year! (and some housekeeping)

*TV static intensifies*

Hey everyone! π here.

Once again, I'd like to wish all of you formally a happy new year! This will be my third year with you, and I hope you're still enjoying my works and I appreciate you for your continued support.

Now that I have your attention, I'd like to give you an overall update on things happening behind the scenes, but first:

2023 Poll

I only posted 10 fics over the previous year, rip, but they're easily some of my most popular and positively received works in the library. Vote up to three of your favorite fics released from me during 2023! I was supposed to include Plaid on the list, but I didn't finish it on time, and as a result this poll also delayed lol. You can change your votes anytime if you have a change of heart. Poll begins from today until January 7, 2024 1:00 P.M. KST/12:00 AM EST.

2024 Road map

And because I only posted 10 fics all throughout 2023, my personal goal in 2024 is to increase the amount of releases, while continuing to improve the quality and maintain consistency. Hopefully. In real life, I'll be entering my third year of college once the holidays are over, and this may be the last full year of freedom I get. I might have to do on-the-job training (OJT) and write up my thesis, which requires a lot of personal commitment so I can finally graduate. I'm basically on borrowed time at this point.

Plans change. Shit happens. Everything that I'm about to say isn't exactly a 100% guarantee, and I really don't wanna promise anything because I've broken way too many promises. But here's the initial proposed list of idols that will be getting fics in 2024:

Hanni

Chaeryeong

Ningning

Yunjin

Rei

Sejeong

Nagyung

Haewon

Yuqi

Xiaoting

Minji (Newjeans)

Sakura

Youngeun

Karina

Sullyoon

Heejin

And this doesn't include idols I've already written :)

Looks ambitious—and it is—but if I can complete even half of that list, I feel as if I've already accomplished my goal.

Commissions

To the people who've been waiting for their requests, once again I'd like to apologize for the delays. I feel terrible knowing I've got so many projects in limbo because of circumstances beyond my control, and it feels as though I've betrayed your trust. However, we're picking things up and I'll gradually be releasing them throughout the early stages of 2024. Thank you for waiting just a little bit longer.

With that said, my personal plan is to implement the following so this never happens again: I'll be scaling back on the number of commissions I can accept at a time so there's more breathing room for requests as well as personal ideas/projects. Ideally, this would mean releasing fics in a 2-to-1 format: 2 commissions then 1 personal idea, but this would vary based on personal schedule and overall demand. Balancing real life commitments with burnout is a huge challenge, and I believe this is the most comfortable situation for me. Please understand that I'm still just one guy and I can't do everything all at once. If I could clone myself, I would abuse the shit out of that ability.

Closing

Overall, I've been blessed to have such a wonderful 2023, and I pray 2024 will be just as kind, if not kinder. I've experienced some of the highest highs and the lowest lows, but I personally feel that 2023 was the best year I've had in almost a decade, and this blog is one reason for that. It wasn't as productive as it used to be, but the increasing support is simply humbling. Heck, I've been entrusted to bring some of your visions/fantasies to life, which shows how much faith you have in me to succeed and bring you quality art. There's no amount of words that can express how truly grateful I am to you, the readers, my peers in the writing community, and to our heavenly Father.

Regardless of what happens to me or this blog, I hope 2024 will be kind to you all. Love you.

with grace,

peter / π

#update

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depravity-n-savagery · 2 years

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「 Third Wheel 」°•.

❦ Pairings: Robin Buckley x (fem)Reader ▪︎ [feat. Some Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington]

❦ Summary: You and Eddie get unexpectedly invited along to Robin and Steve's movie night. When the two guys become wrapped up in each other (leaving Robin fed up and tired), you decide it's time to finally make your move.

❦ CW: Angst in the beginning, Steddie in the background, heartbreak, they beat Vecna in '86 and nobody died, Fluff, Mutual pining (Steddie), Friends to lovers, coming out

🛑 18+ MINORS DNI 🛑

❦ Word Count: 2.1k

❦ A/N: Inspired by this cute ass fanart I saw. (it was Eddie & Steve making out while Robin was in the front/corner of the pic looking like 😑. I lost track of it but if I find it again I'll link it here.) The Fruity Four have had me in a chokehold today so why not contribute to all the fics I've been reading lolz.

The heavy sigh that pushed through Robin's lips had been building up for a long time. Starting sometime around the end of her shift at Family Video. The day was long and tiring, due to it being a Friday. Every family and couple in town, it seemed, wanted to spend a cozy weekend inside. Escaping the chill of late fall heading into winter. Huddled or cuddled together in front of a lit screen and a generous stack of rented movies. Movies that her and her buddy Steve were tasked with supplying.

She couldn't judge them too much. Her and Steve's evening plans were similar. Made on a whim during a conversation earlier that day. Somehow banter, and a debate about movies based off of novels, became a promise to watch movies tonight. A promise that initially didn't include the long-haired lanky boy that came rushing through the doors just before closing.

"Shit!! WAIT! Don't close yet!"

Eddie shouldered his way through the double doors, all clumsy limbs and stumbling over his reeboks with two tapes tucked under his arm. "I gotta….return…these movies…" He huffed out between deep breaths. Hunching forward to catch up to himself. The situation was typical for someone like him. Not that Robin had any issue with Eddie, in fact, they had gotten along quite well after trauma bonding in The Upside Down. Part of accepting him (or anyone really) as a friend included accepting their flaws. Like Eddie's habit of being tardy. To class (before he graduated), to hangouts, and now to returning movies.

"Hmmm… I don't know, Mr.Munson." Robin teased, mocking the voice of the one teacher they both shared during his last year at Hawkins High. "Your tardiness holds you back more than your lack of effort in my class." She tutted, wagging her finger at him from behind the counter. The plum-polished tip of her finger caught the only light left in the store. The light from the 'employees only' back area. The ones for the main area have already been turned off.

Those chocolate doe-eyes of his didn’t have the effect on her that they had on other women (and men), but they were impossible to ignore when he pouted like that. Resembling a sad puppy left out in a cardboard box during a thunderstorm. It tugged the heartstrings in an unfair way that even she couldn't manage whenever she attempted to. Although Nancy would say otherwise. To add salt to the wound, Eddie whimpered softly, shuffling over to the counter just low enough to rest his chin on it and look up at her. "Come oonnn, Robin. Wayne asked me to do it earlier, but I forgot, and I don't want him to deal with the late fees." He cooed her name in such a babyish way, it almost made her gag and snort at the same time. "Just this one time? I'll even wash Steve's car."

"How would washing his car help me?"

"You ride in his car. Why not ride in style? Hmmm?~"

The amusing bargain was interrupted by a third party, finally stepping out of the back room once he heard the distant male voice. It wouldn't be the first time he's had to chase a guy out that insisted on barking up the wrong tree with Robin, even after she rejected their advances. Though Robin would scold him afterwards because she 'could handle herself'. Funny how she never scolded Nancy whenever she was the one to do it. Still, Steve stepped out and walked up beside Robin at the counter, happily surprised to see Eddie Munson instead of some creep. "No, no Robin. Hold on. Let's hear the guy out."

Of course he'd say that. Robin knew it was a losing battle the moment Steve joined the conversation. From the way Eddie turned up the sad tremble in his poked-out bottom lip, he must've known too. Steve was putty in his hands (no matter how much he covered it with snark and sass). "I reeeally need to return these tapes for Wayne." My God, did he- did he just bat his eyelashes??

Mission accomplished.

Like any of the fictional monster bosses he put against his friends during D&D, Steve attempted to put up a fight. Throwing a stern word or two at Eddie, and even threatening to say 'no' just to teach him a lesson. But overall, he fell. Taking the tapes in hand and beginning the process of putting the information into the computer. While Steve's eyes were occupied by the screen Eddie grinned at Robin and stuck out his tongue. Receiving a matching smirk and a middle finger. All normal parts of their friendship. Eddie made a mental note to ask her where she got her plum polish, on the rare occasion that he grew tired of his usual black nails.

"So, what are you two up to tonight?" It was a given that the two of them weren't going to just part ways after their shift. Where there was one, the other was never usually far behind. It was an unspoken fact. Steve and Robin were joined at the hip. "I got Y/n in the van waiting. We weren't really sure what we wanted to do after this."

Robin's face twisted as a thought entered her mind. One she wished she could erase from existence. "Oh ew, was that the reason you were late returning these tapes?"

"What? NO!" Eddie spat out, a bit too defensive. He reigned it in and forced an awkward chuckle. "Eh, it's nothing like that. We were just.. okay we were possibly a little high. We smoked a little and hung out. Time sort of flew." It surprised both you and Eddie how much your friendship resembled Steve and Robin's. In more ways than one. Things were never physical between you two because you simply didn't swing that way. A secret that Eddie was dead set on protecting until you felt comfortable with revealing it yourself. Robin, as of a few months ago had finally come out to your friend group (although still closeted around strangers). It stirred a small hope in you that maybe, just maybe, you might be brave enough to do the same. Just… not so soon.

Steve finished and tucked Eddie's returned tapes under the counter, clearly not in the mood to put them back on the shelf. It was two minutes to the end of their shift, and there is no way in hell they were about to put in overtime at this godforsaken place. "Me 'n Robin were gonna watch some movies at my place. You guys wanna join?"

Thus, you ended up here. Spread out in front of Steve's impressively large television, in his also LARGE living room. The fireplace was crackling softly, basking the room in heat and a comfy ambience. It was homey, in such an ironic way. Steve always described his house as cold and felt the need to constantly have company over, since his family was never around. Robin was practically moved in by now. Sighing once again as she moved to sit by the fireplace. Moving as far away as she could from the heavy panting and moist smacking of Steve and Eddie currently swapping saliva on the couch. It seems a few drinks and a sentimental movie scene was all it took to get the two of them to finally loosen up and explore that tension that always lingered between them. Good for them. You were happy for your best friend, genuinely. Maybe even living vicariously through him. Maybe someday that'll be me.

Robin didn't share your positive opinion. The taste was bitter on her tongue. One by one all of her friends were finding themselves. Falling in and out of love, and sharing stories about passionate nights and romantic dates. Yet here she was, stuck. Alone. Third-wheeling once again and striking out every time. When would it be her turn? She thought that taking a leap, even if it was small, would reward her with a maybe equally small victory. She took that leap in revealing herself to Nancy (and the gang). Heart in her hands with a silent question in her eyes. Could we try? Steve had finally moved on and even gave Robin his blessing. Jonathan had broken her trust with his lies about college and distancing himself from her. Maybe… just maybe… the closeness that was steadily growing between them meant something more. But it didn't. Nancy bounced back to Jonathan last month, even moved in with him once he got his own place in Hawkins. Shattering Robin's heart into a million pieces. Now every romantic advancement she witnessed from her friends just twisted the knife.

She was tired. She was lonely. She just wanted to have a simple damn movie night with her best friend. Not this.

"Movie kinda sucks, huh?" You made your presence known, coming to sit down beside her. A quilt wrapped around your shoulders. If this was late fall, then the winter was going to be harsh this year. Robin was already internally frozen. "I'm surprised Steve picked something like this. Always figured he'd be more of a Top Gun kind of guy."

"Clearly you haven't seen his account at Family Video." Robin replied, voice rasped and void of its usual humorous tone. "He's rented Dirty Dancing like twelve times and it's only been out for a few months."

"Let me guess-"

"Patrick Swayze." You both said in unison. Clearly aware of Steve's unspoken bisexuality. He never really said it, but he never really hid it either. Just sort of went with the flow.

Feeling a surge of confidence, you edged a bit closer to Robin. Just barely touching her with your knee as you sat criss-cross and loosened your grip on the quilt. Letting it slip low enough to expose your shoulders and the shadow of your cleavage. Your distressed Judas Priest crop top left a lot of skin available for viewing pleasure. "The mystery is, does he want to be Patrick Swayze? Or fuck Patrick Swayze?"

"Well clearly he's more into the 'Van Halen' type." Robin gestured toward the couch. Eddie and Steve were still going at it. You expected nothing less from years of pent up mutual pining. It was the bite in Robin's response that gave you pause. Along with the fact that she knew anything about Van Halen.

It dawned on you that this wasn't her original plan. When Eddie returned to the van earlier tonight after turning in the tapes, he skimmed over the fact that you and him had been invited along to plans that already existed without you two. This night wasn't supposed to end up like this.

"I'm sorry if me and Eddie kinda crashed your movie night. I didn't expect it to turn into, well- this."

Robin shrugged, keeping her eyes on the dancing flames. "It's fine. I guess I'm just tired of being a third wheel."

"Wellll… That's why I'm here. I guess. The fourth wheel to even things out." You offered, borrowing every scrap of confidence you could muster. This was your one chance, and Hawkins be damned, you would sooner let The Upside Down swallow you whole than screw this up this opportunity.

The hint flew over Robin's head. Entirely too consumed with forcing herself to accept that she'll be single forever. Telling herself that she had to be the only lesbian in the entirety of Hawkins, and if there were any others they were too old or wouldn't want her. She thought your offer purely meant a chance at friendship and that was probably the last thing she wanted right now. But you were sweet and so damn cute, so she couldn't continue being cold towards you. Instead she turned her gaze on you and gave you a sad but thankful smile. "Thanks, but it's not really the same thing."

"I… I could make out with you too. If that would help."

There it was. Out in the open. For the first time, spoken to another person (besides Eddie). The realization crashed Robin's system and fried her brain. She needed a reboot. She needed to hear it again, to be sure she heard correctly. That would be too much to ask. Saying it at all was risky enough for you, and she knew that. She felt that. Felt the same rhythmic pounding in her chest. A pounding that seemed to happen every time you thought about her. It all made sense. How defensive Eddie got whenever someone insinuated that your friendship was more than what it seemed.

"Yeah." The fire and the quilt didn't generate nearly as much warmth as Robin's voice did. Hushed and bordering on flirtatious. "I think that could help a lot."

♡

❦ A/N: Robin is such a babe ♡ That's all. 🤣💞 Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated.

Masterlist, Ao3 ☆

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x y/n #steddie #lesbian #platonic soulmate!Eddie

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