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bunnysbrainrot · 7 months

Text

But I’m Better

Kintober prompt: Toys

Relationship: dbf!Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Content: explicit sexual scenes, praise kink, guided masturbation, dom/sub (kinda) dynamic, size kink (kinda sorta). No outbreak AU, age gap (Joel is around his mid-40’s, reader is early/mid-20’s).

Summary: When something breaks, you always know who to call. Your dresser is broken, and you’re left hopeless. But what happens when Joel finds something peculiar in your drawer?

A/N: Y’all. I am so pissed right now because i wrote so much on my drive home, and it deleted because of a bad connection. i can’t recall everything i wrote, so i did the best with what i could remember. i hope it’s up to your liking!

“Shit,” you grumble as you stare blankly at the clothes strewn across the floor. The knob of your dresser drawer sat stupidly in your hand, the mangled wood and metal mocking you. It looked completely ruined.

You thought about messaging your dad about the repairs, but chose against it. He was never exactly notorious for making these things simple - it would be a question of ‘So how did this happen?’ or ‘How did you manage to break it?’, and it really wasn’t worth the effort for you.

The knob sat in your hand, the screw that held it in the drawer was bent to the side, and incredibly dull. No surprise there, you thought.

To be fair, it was an old ass dresser, given to you by your grandmother when you were younger. It was weird to think that you’d had this dresser for over twelve years.

You bent over the pile of clothes and hoisted the hefty drawer in line with the empty space, grunting in frustration as you tried to shimmy it in. It was settled haphazardly and tilted backwards. Completely screwed up. You took your phone from your pocket and snapped a photo of your mangled dresser, sending it to Joel.

Dresser finally gave out, I guess. Knob fell clean off when I tried to open it

Almost immediately, Joel haha reacted to the image and began to type. He was unlike any other man you’d talked to before. Joel was timely and consistent, and he was always reliable. Even if he didn’t have the time to help, he would instruct you on how to solve an issue, but typically he helped you in person.

As much as you tried to deny it, your feeling for Joel had warped over the past few years. It began as a silly childhood crush - those early days where you and your friends joked about what older men were sexiest. Your friends had given you teasing looks when you mentioned Joel, and even more shocking was how long you’d liked him. It was a simple, harmless, childhood crush.

Until it wasn’t.

You were freshly eighteen and readying yourself for college when the realization hit you. After all those years having crushes on older guys, it would be considered okay. Weird and taboo, sure, but still allowed now that you were legally an adult.

Joel had come to your graduation dinner at the end of senior year. You remembered that night in vivid detail. More particularly, Joel’s presence set your skin ablaze with a new type of anxiety. At long last, you could freely crush on Joel, except that there was now a chance he could like you, too.

That night he’d passed you a small velvet box, tied neatly with gold ribbon. You opened the box to reveal a gold, oval-shaped locket with a simple clasp. Inscribed on the face of the locket were whorled spirals, breaking off as flowers scattered over the gilded surface. Gazing up at Joel, you couldn’t contain your joy as you gave him a quick hug. He briefly wrapped an arm around you, holding you close by the small of your back.

He broke away, smiling proudly at you below him.

“You did a great job, baby girl. You keep that up in college, and you’ll get by just fine.”

You were thankful dessert had arrived in time for you to turn your attention away, hiding your rouged cheeks. Joel probably didn’t remember that night, but you remembered every little thing.

—

You’d done your four years of college and after the endless nights with little to no sleep and hard work, you were finally graduated, and taking a gap year before considering anything further. You worked hard, and didn’t want to burn yourself out with more school immediately.

But now you were back home, and your sights were set on something else. It was a golden opportunity to spend time with Joel - time that you’d lost by being away for so long. Holiday visits and summer break was hardly generous enough to give you any alone time with Joel. You left for college as a timid girl, developed yourself as a whole, and came back a woman. A woman who knew herself and her wants.

And you wanted him, ached for him in a way you could neither define nor justify. He was almost twice your age, a wholly developed man with his own complex past and unsteady dating life.

Mr. Miller.

He had lived in the next neighborhood over for as long as you could remember. He and your dad met about ten years back at a ‘work thing’, as they described it.

Joel was kind and endlessly generous when it came to helping others. He was the first call when something broke, and the best person to have over when times were tough, despite his sometimes-rugged personality.

You’d gotten back in town over a week ago, and since then you’d seen Joel a few times, mostly to ‘inspect’ the furniture in your room - if anything had worn down over time and needed to be replaced, the whole nine. The both of you knew it was some bullshit excuse to see him at work, with those corded muscles flexing under his tanned skin, sending shivers down your spine.

That day, the two of you had enough bravery in you to flirt. It started out lightly, you gave more emphasis on Mr. Miller, until Joel requested you call him by his first name.

“Makin’ me feel like an old man, darlin’,” he teased. You remember how he sounded saying it, with a voice as thick and sweet as molasses.

Before he’d left he’d held you by the waist, staring a little too closely at your face, watching your eyes grow wide when he leaned toward you. He fixed your hair with a gentle hand, said your name, and trailed off, his eyes never leaving your lips.

He refused to kiss you that time. Though the time after that you’d decided to break the boundary, drinking him in like someone dying of thirst. You memorized his scent, the softness of his skin and rough, eager hands across your chest, between your thighs, your throat. You both had been greedy that night. It was a high that coursed through your senses. You needed him, more than you led on.

I’ll get my toolbox, looks like it could be some old hardware. Be over in 10.

You picked up around your room in the meantime, your heart fluttering in your ribcage with each passing second. The room had become stiflingly hot. Suffocating.

A knock at your bedroom door startled you out of your anxious stupor. You reached for the door and now faced a smug Joel Miller in the doorway.

“I could’ve met you at the front door, you know,” you chastised him playfully. Joel shifted his weight of his feet, pulling something from his pocket.

“Helps that I have a house key. Means I can help you even faster.”

You rolled your eyes at him and turned on your heels without a word, striding toward your broken dresser. Joel followed casually, craning his head to look around your room, at the decorations that covered the walls and ceiling. This was no longer the bedroom of a the kid he’d met all those years ago. No, you were fully your own woman now.

“Yup, the screw’s shot to shit,” he muttered, holding out the drawer’s knob to you. “See the end of it? Shouldn’t be that dull - gotta have it replaced every now and then.”

“Do you have the right screw for it?”

He nodded, popping open his toolbox and assessing the different screws in each compartment. His hands flexed with each movement, the veins branching across them shifted with every twitch and roll of his thick fingers. Your legs clenched while the most intrusive thoughts filled your head. Specifically those hands, and what you could imagine them doing to you.

Procuring the right screw, Joel handed it to you. You looked at him in innocent confusion.

God, those eyes. If he had the chance, Joel would look into them all day, to let himself get swallowed whole by their beauty. And when you looked at him all pretty like that, as if you had no idea what you were doing to him, it drove him wild. You knew exactly what you were doing when you’d flirt with Joel, but couldn’t gauge his reciprocation, or if he was even okay with the weird ‘relationship’ you had.

It had been confusing for long enough. Someone needed to make a move, and Joel wasn’t sure if you had it in you to do it. Neither were you.

“I wanna see you try it for yourself,” he explained.

“If it’s so easy, why can’t you do it?” you quipped with a smile, but still taking the knob in your hands. Joel gave no reply and waited patiently for you to back down and do it yourself.

It was far easier than you thought. You handed it back to Joel with a proud smile. His eyes thoughtfully scanned your face before finding home in your eyes.

“Smart girl. I knew you could do it.”

Heat rushed across your cheeks like a harsh sunburn, completely taken over by the brightness in his honeyed tone and brown eyes. Joel laughed at your reaction before he worked on the drawer knob, fiddling it into place. His hands rummaged through your drawer as he worked, and paid no mind to the clothes, though you just realized. This was your underwear drawer - full of lacy underwear, bras of all varieties, and one final item you prayed you hid well enough.

Joel’s hands pushed through your panties as you held your breath. After the drawer had fallen out you’d lazily threwn everything back in the drawer and paid no mind to its organization. Since it wasn’t on the bed or the floor, by accident, you were certain that Joel would cross paths with a toy of yours.

He struck something solid amidst the clothes. The material was solid and heavy, with a bit of give from the silicone. At that moment, he could’ve left it ignored, but there was no fun in that, he thought. Joel gripped the dildo at the base, pulling out of the tangle of clothes and handed it to you, flashing you with a smirk.

“You should find a better place for this,” he drawled. “Never know who could find it.”

You quickly grabbed it from him and scanned your room for another hiding spot, but nothing came to mind. Instead you plopped it back in the drawer, on the opposite side.

“Most people don’t get to go through my underwear, so you can’t give me shit for that,” you grumbled. Joel stood, groaning at the strain on his joints. You giggle at the noise, and gave him your usual teasing, “Old man.”

Ignoring your jab, Joel leaned against the chest of drawers, arms crossed over his chest in a stare down.

His voice was dark. It had become devious, knowing, and more stern than you’d imagined.

“You use it on yourself?”

You choked on your spit harshly, not expecting his question to be so direct. Joel placed a wide hand between your shoulder blades and gave you a pat, coaxing you back to normal.

“Joel,” you pant, catching your breath, “you can’t just- just ask me that.”

“And you wouldn’t be curious if the roles were reversed, I’m sure,” he said coolly.

The redness had returned to your cheeks while you debated on your answer, but your hesitation told Joel everything he needed to know. In the smallest way, you’d let it slip that you imagine him in your free time, not that it wasn’t the same case for him. If anything, it’d been worse. Every text you’d sent him set him ablaze; at night he thought about you in detail and palmed himself through his pants, or pumped his cock in a fervent hand as he thought of you, squeezing himself inside your tight pussy. Countless nights he’d stained himself with his own seed, wishing it was inside of you instead, where it belongs. That toy should be him, it always should’ve been.

“Do you?”

You huffed and turned away from him, striding toward the bed to adjust your pillows - any sort of casual distraction from the question.

“Why do you want to know?” you countered.

Joel’s hands brushed against your hips from behind, his feather-soft fingertips brushing across the skin above your jeans. You drew in a breath as Joel whispered next to your ear.

“Because I’m a selfish old bastard, and I’m wondering what it looks like.”

“What what looks like?” you ask softly. You knew precisely what he meant but you wanted to hear something from him anyway.

He burrowed his head at the crook of your neck, gently kissing your skin up to the soft spot below your ear. His breath flew over your skin hot and heavy, sending a new wave of heat to your core.

“I want to see your face when you’re all filled up. I gotta see what your little pussy looks like when it’s all stretched out.”

You pushed your hips back flush with his to find a growing bulge trapped in his jeans. Joel rolled his hips into your ass, groaning at the constraint of the rough denim.

“Joel,” you breathed.

He mumbled against your neck, “What is it baby girl?”

Shoving your ass against his crotch, you whined, “I need you. Please… need you so badly.”

His hum rumbled against your skin, sending goosebumps rolling across your arms. A hand wound up to your hair and tugged a good handful back toward him. You gazed up at him with those beautiful glossed over eyes he dreamed about. He pictured this look on your face for a few years now, and he finally had the joy of seeing it, of causing it himself.

“Not givin’ it to you yet, baby,” he tugged once more on your hair when you whined in protest, “Gonna try something different first.”

In one movement you were facing him, finding two dark eyes staring you down, pupils both blown in lust. Joel gripped the back of your head carefully now, cradling you like something precious, something coveted. This was exactly how he saw you. You were someone to protect and take care of, and now it’s shifted to something far more intimate. Joel vowed to himself that he would make you feel every ounce of pleasure you’d been missing out on. All those nights where his hand replaced your pussy built up a frustration only you could truly fix.

Joel crashed his mouth to yours, as he’d done twice before this, and the kiss sent the same heat through your body. You clenched your thighs in a pitiful attempt to gain pressure against your swollen clit, nestled sweetly between your soft folds, soaking your underwear with your slick.

He pressed you backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed. The kiss was no short of pure ecstasy. The way his stubble scratched against your cheeks, the way his breathing grew heavy when you bit at his lower lip, the way his tongue edged into your mouth to explore every inch.

You gasped when Joel pulled away, watching him step to your dresser and draw out the dildo you’d hidden back inside. He turned to you with the toy in hand, wobbling slightly in his grip.

“‘S a pretty big one, sweetheart, you actually use all of it?” his voice was far too casual for a man holding your dildo.

You offer him half a nod, “Kind of. I’ve been trying to get… all the way in.” Joel assessed your words before he joined you on the bed, holding the toy against your stomach, at the base of your pelvis. He let out a low whistle when he saw where the toy’s length ended at your tummy, past your bellybutton.

“All of that inside you… felt pretty daring getting one so big, huh?”

That wasn’t the case and it was the most embarrassing part. The truth is, you chose the size based on your image of Joel. You didn’t even know how endowed he was, but you let your fantasy of him take over. That, and the time your hand brushed against his erection during your last kiss.

“I wanted to see if it would feel like you,” you admitted.

Joel’s eyes crinkled with his laugh, “Darlin’, a toy don’t compare to the real thing. Not really.”

You jabbed his arm at his teasing, “Listen, I’m doing the best with what I got, okay?”

“Yeah, but it’s not the best you could get, now is it?” he purred, pushing forward to plant a kiss on your neck. You shook your head, knowing he was exactly right. The toy would never really feel like the real thing.

You glanced up at him with a nervous expression, furrowing your brows, “What did you want to do?”

Joel looked at you coolly and leaned back onto his elbows. He eyed you, then the toy in his hand, then back to you.

“You gonna make it fit - take it all the way - and I’m gonna help.”

Crimson shaded your cheeks at the thought, staring nervously at the toy. Surely you were wet enough to take it, but the action of pushing further, to get it in completely, had been a challenge. In hopes to boost your bravery, you hunched over him, kissing him harshly as your hands flew to your pants. You fumbled with the waistband and slid them off of you, until you were stark naked, laid and bare before Mr. Miller.

He simply drank you in as you sat nervously in the lamplight. Joel eyed you darkly, his eyes raking from your quivering thighs, your slightly hidden sex - masked by your censoring hands, to your perk nipples atop each soft breast, and to your face, eyes half-lidded in pleasure adjoined with your soft panting.

“Jesus.”

You ducked your head sheepishly, shaking slightly to decline the compliment. Joel looked you over fondly as his hand found your cheek, brushing a thumb over your cheekbone. You glanced down at him, still giving you that goofy smirk and a excited glint in his eye.

Joel kept eye contact as his hand traveled down your body - through the valley between your breasts, down your tummy, to just above your slit, daringly close to dipping between your wet folds. You pushed yourself into your knees and knelt at his side, your aching cunt exposed to him in the dimly lit room.

He trailed his hand up each thigh, halting just before he reached your pussy. Each touch was carefully light in a way that made your whole body shudder against him. A single finger slithered up your thigh once again, finally finding its way through your slit, nestling comfortably against your clit and drawing lazy circles.

You cried out against a hand held at your mouth. Joel’s hand smelled of metal and bourbon, mixed with pine and lemongrass. He smelled smoky and fresh and completely warm against your face. You bestowed your face into his palm as he gained a rhythm on your clit, drawing out the smallest cries against his skin.

“Nice and wet for me already, darlin’, that’s good… that’s such a good girl. Drippin’ and ready.”

Another dumb nod has him chuckling while his finger skirted lightly across your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves until your stomach grew tighter.

“Gonna cum, baby? You gonna cum for me already?” His comment draws another moan from you, falling like a melody past your bitten lips, a chorus straight from heaven, just for Joel.

“It’s okay, baby doll, go ‘head. Cum for daddy,” he said sweetly, the Southern drawl thick through his words.

You unravel around him, jolting your hips as your orgasm takes over your senses. A soft cry sounds through your gritted teeth; you gently grind your hips onto the pad of his finger to ride through the shockwaves. Joel leans up to kiss your shoulder, his lips warm and supple.

“Just as beautiful as I imagined,” whispered Joel. His tongue skirts along your skin to your neck, fully sitting beside you to bore his eyes into yours.

You glanced back at him with lust-blow pupils, steadying your breath as his hand slowed its tempo. Joel gave you a lazy smile, the lamplight catching the salt-and-pepper hairs of his scruff in a soft display of his rugged features.

“Can,” you started, “you be… inside me?”

Joel’s hands found your hips and gripped snugly. The look in his eyes was nothing short of affectionate. Even still, he shook his head.

“Not tonight darlin’,” he replies, “I want you to show me how you look using this-“ he points to the dildo on his opposite side, waiting. “Since you think a toy could be so much better than me-“

“That’s not it at all,” you protest, “I needed something, Joel.”

He holds up a hand to stop you mid-sentence, “You could’ve asked me, but ya didn’t, did ya?”

You gave him a scowl, “I didn’t think this would happen, Joel.”

Ever since you hit eighteen, he wanted you to practice calling him by his first name purely out of comfortability, and since you’d grown up, it seemed more fitting.

He doesn’t reply, but his smirk grows when he brings the dildo over to you, sitting between your thighs. It was embarrassing enough with how little of the toy you could handle this far, and to do it in front of Joel seemed doubly humiliating.

Joel gives your ass a small smack to lift you up. You rise, letting him set the toy between your thighs and beneath your throbbing entrance. He cleared his throat, daring your attention back to him.

“Go at your own pace, but get it all in, sweet girl.”

All thought had left you - your only reply being in an eager nod. You started off slowly, notching the toy in at your tight hole, and slowly bounced yourself along its length. Your legs shook with each movement as you filled yourself more and more, every gyration sent shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of your being.

It took a few moments to ease yourself fully, now bouncing on the dildo’s length until it became glossy with your slick. Joel eyed you affectionately. Your face twisted in ways he couldn’t imagine, and your cunt wrapped around the toy in ways he could only dream of.

Joel patted your thigh as you bottomed out at the hilt of the toy. He pawed at your hips, kneading at the tender flesh of your ass, and pulled you into a grinding motion, setting the dildo ever deeper into your cunt. It struck a new spot deep inside of you, pushing against your cervix. A low moan fell from you as you moved your hips absentmindedly, solely following Joel’s command.

The tightness in your stomach only grew as his praises flowed through your head.

“Such an obedient lil’ thing.”

“That’s a dirty girl, gettin’ all needy like that. Wishin’ it was me in your sweet pussy, don’t you?”

“You have no idea how badly I want to fill you right now, baby doll.”

You mewled softly as another orgasm crashed through you, your hips sputtering as you ground onto the toy. Joel’s hands caressed you through your high, though he didn’t stop tugging your hips. He beamed lazily when you cried his name once again, shuddering around the toy nestled inside of you.

“Attagirl,” whispered Joel, “so fuckin’ beautiful..”

You shook your head at him like before, but he showed no signs of backing down from his stance. Joel peppered your thighs with kisses and he lifted you off the toy, listening to your whines as you were left feeling empty. His cock twitched in his jeans, eager to play.

But not yet. He needed to see this first.

“How was that, sweet girl?”

A beat of silence said every unspoken thing you’d come up with. It was good, but not mind-boggling. Not the ‘fucked til you’re dumb’ pleasure you’d expected from tonight.

Joel patted your ass, “That’s the thing. Toys… they feel nice. But-“ He plants a kiss to your cheek, then your lips, grazing over the swollen skin.

“I’m better.”

The next few minutes consisted of cleaning after yourself and settling back into your clothes. Joel fixed your hair neatly before looking you over.

“Cant stay long tonight, darlin’, gotta get back home.”

You sighed dramatically at him, to which he scoffed away the gesture. On his way out, he gave you a far more longing look - a loving, thoughtful gaze that told you one thing.

You were his. Completely and wholly. It was clear he saw you differently now, as you did him.

Joel fucking Miller.

MDNI spacer is by cafekitsune!

hi everyone! thank you for so much incredible support on this fic!

Just FYI: Blood Flow, and Daddy’s Girl are now up as parts 2 and 3! have fun, lovelies

#fanfiction #fic writing #smut #smut writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #bunny writes #kinktober

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luveline · 3 months

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Hiiii sugarplum. I would absolutely adore some stripper reader x Hotch maybe like some of him comforting her or just coming to visit like outside of the case and some fluff 🥰🥰

ty for requesting!! fem

You’re texting on the wall outside of work when a shadow cuts across the streetlight illuminating your lap. Your head flinches up, phone to your chest, but the man standing in front of you isn’t one you’ve ever been scared of. “Fuck, Aaron, you scared me,” you say with a nervous laugh.

He smiles at you in his gentle, unassuming way. “Sorry. I took care to scuff my shoes as I walked.”

“Oh, you took care,” you say. Your smile is far less gentle than his; your cheeks apple, your words coloured with it. “I was in my own world.”

“I thought we talked about you coming outside alone.”

“Did we?” you ask, the short wall you’re sitting on biting into your hands and thighs as you tip back to grin at him teasingly. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner, I can’t seem to remember any such talk.”

“Mm.” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t remember that?”

“Don’t recall, no.”

“So you also won’t remember the conversation we had about flowers.”

Your first date, your only date, and your first bouquet. He’d given you flowers and read the embarrassment on your face immediately. You aren’t the kind of girl who gets flowers.

What’s wrong? he’d asked.

You’d held the flowers to your chest, something in you worried he’d take them away, though you’re almost positive he’s incapable of being cruel like that. Do I look stupid?

Of course you don’t.

There hadn’t been much else to say about the flowers, until after the evening had gone well, and he’d asked you for another date. High with the delight of knowing Spencer’s nice, handsome boss doesn’t just think you’re pretty, he likes you, you’d said Sure, if you bring me another lovely bouquet, we can go on as many dates as you like.

Aaron pulls the bouquet from behind his back. Petals bounce off of his tie, pinks and whites and baby blues against his black blazer and pristine white shirt as he taps his chest. They’re beautiful, and far too many.

“Are they really for me?” you ask. You’ve never seen such a big bouquet in your life. It’s a wonder they fit behind his back.

The strangest thing about dating him has been his sudden propensity for moments of shyness. “That depends,” he says, the slightest hint of nerves in his otherwise dulcet tone, “are they nice enough?”

“They’re the prettiest flowers I’ve ever seen.” You stand up and hold out your hands, pull them back to your chest, and then hold them back out again. You can’t not want them.

He hands them off to you.

It must be weird for him to meet you like this. He’s very high up the ladder of his career, and it doesn’t make much sense for him to fall for you. You’re younger, less educated, less prestigiously employed. You hadn’t understood what it was about you that pulled him in, but you can remember how clearly he told you he was interested in you. No shame. Not a hint of reluctance. He’s bringing you flowers outside of the stripclub, ignoring the fact that you’re in sweatpants and a tight corset-type bra, and he hasn’t looked at your body once.

“I was just texting you,” you say, opening your phone to press send on the text waiting in the hot bar.

Aaron’s phone immediately pings.

He reads it quickly. It isn’t a long message. Hi, handsome. Want to pick me up tonight?

If he’d said yes or no didn’t matter, because you’d just wanted to talk to him, and here he is.

He finally ducks in. A half side step into your reach, his face angled down, he kisses you chastely on the lips and everything fades away. The neon pink at your feet, the buzzing streetlights and the passing cars, the steady thump of music from three different buildings, it all disappears under his warm hand. He kisses you, and he hugs you to his chest, careful not to crush your flowers. You could glow from the inside out.

He’s still smiling as he pulls away. “Are you hungry?” he asks softly.

“So hungry.”

“We can get anything you want.”

“Really? What if I want the same as last time?”

It had been expensive and you’d felt vaguely underdressed. Aaron doesn’t baulk. “Anything you want… You may need to wear my jacket, though. I don’t think your current outfit adheres to their dress code.”

You push the flowers just under his nose. “Funny.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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okaylikesmomo · 8 months

Text

Exchange Part 2: Flower

Another 10k+ words, smut, male reader, PART ONE HERE

“They approved the request, but now you get a choice,” the bodyguard said, turning directly to you. “After you’re done with Miss Jennie, you can choose to also take a turn with Miss Jisoo.”

“That wasn’t the deal!” Jennie shouted back. “We said he fucks me instead of her.”

“I’m sorry Miss Jennie, I’m just the messenger.”

“Then take this message back and tell them to go fu-”

“I won’t take a turn with Jisoo,” you cut her off. “Just with Jennie, and then we’re done.”

Jennie’s entire demeanor swapped as she glanced at you, full of silent appreciation. The bodyguard, on the other hand, was much less understanding.

“You’re passing up the opportunity to be with Miss Jisoo?” he asked, mouth hanging open in shock. “You do also realize you’d be guaranteeing a promotion if you did it, right?”

“I do.”

“Then how can you possibly turn this down?”

“You said it was my decision, I have decided against it,” you said firmly. “Can we proceed?”

“My God even if you don’t find her attractive, at least do it for the job,” the bodyguard said while shaking his head. “Alright, it’s your choice, go and get acquainted while I grab the guys.”

Both you and Jennie returned to the room where you found Jisoo holding the letter from earlier, her knuckles white.

“There’s a live audience, too?” she asked, voice full of despair.

“It’s fine, they approved the request,” Jennie replied, taking off her coat again, leaving her completely nude yet again. “I’ll be the one doing most of it.”

“Most of it?” Jisoo repeated.

“They approved the request, but you still need to participate just a little bit,” you explained, taking a seat next to her. “We can talk about limits before they come.”

“You just have to sit there and look pretty, it’s the same as part one,” Jennie said while checking out her ass in the mirror. “You slapped me so fucking hard, it’s all red now.”

“Jisoo, are you okay with stripping all the way?” you asked, ignoring Jennie.

She nodded, her cheeks unable to hide the rosy tint that appeared.

“And are you okay with Jennie touching you in front of them?”

Another nod.

“I’ll try to avoid it, but are you okay with me touching you in front of everyone?” you asked hesitantly. “They might request it.”

This time she hesitated for a short second before nodding, her cheeks bright red.

“I’m fine with it,” she muttered quietly, avoiding your eye contact.

“Great, now that we got that out of the way,” Jennie said casually while walking over to you. “Show me your cock.”

“You getting withdrawal symptoms or something?” you asked sarcastically.

“Let’s get one thing clear,” Jennie snarled. “I’m still in charge here.”

“Well if the little slut wants to see my cock, she can come take a look,” you gestured towards your crotch, leaning back on your hands. “Show me how in charge you are as you suck my dick.”

She wanted to argue, but for some reason Jennie held her tongue and leaned forward. Without any attempt to make it sexy, she yanked down your pants, revealing your cock. You helped her out by taking off your shirt, joining her in her nudity.

“There’s just one of us left,” Jennie mentioned casually, her eyes locked on your cock.

Jisoo stood up from the bed, facing away from you, and reached behind her back. She undid the strap of her bra, letting it fall to the ground, before bending over at her waist and lowering her purple panties.

“How about you look at me for once,” Jennie clicked her tongue, arms crossed as she stood there looking at you with all the sass in the world.

“Come here and stop covering up your tits then,” you replied, standing up from the bed and moving Jennie’s arms away. “So, tell me, what are your boundaries?”

“I’m-”

You slapped her across the face, not particularly hard, but it was loud.

“I don’t really care,” you said coldly before wrapping an arm around her body and grabbing her ass. “Girl like you probably doesn’t care what happens to her anyway,” you continued before tossing her on the bed like a ragdoll.

“Dick!” Jennie shouted at you as you walked up to Jisoo who was shyly covering up.

“I mean it when I say it,” you said softly, carefully prying her arms away from her chest. “You’re beautiful.”

Jisoo looked to the side, still being shy as she showed you her chest. Her hands began trying to cover between her legs, but you encouraged her to stop hiding by holding her wrists.

“You have nothing to be shy about,” you said reassuringly while placing your hands on her breasts before gesturing towards her crotch. “May I?”

She nodded at you, and the two of you locked eyes. You gave her a quick kiss before slowly crouching down in front of her, getting on your knees. Your eyes never left hers, even as you carefully moved your mouth between her legs.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips as you pressed your mouth against her pussy. You gently stuck your tongue out, licking up and down her slit, tasting her delicious body. She looked so pristine between the legs, the most visually appealing pussy ever, and her taste matched. She was irresistible.

Unfortunately, you would have to cut the fun short as there was a knock on the door. You stood back up, wiping Jisoo’s mess off your chin, the two of you smiling at each other. Over her shoulder, you could see Jennie on the bed touching herself - she even looked a bit jealous.

“Are you going to get that, little slut?” you asked Jennie.

Again, she looked pissed, but perhaps she didn’t want to annoy Jisoo because she got off the bed and walked to the door. While she left, you gave Jisoo one last hug to ease her nerves before taking a few steps away.

When Jennie returned, she had about six or seven men following her. They barely even noticed you at first, all of them fixated on Jennie’s swaying ass as she walked in. One of them was holding a camera.

“Rules are simple,” Jennie explained as the men made a line by the wall. “You guys get to watch our little fun here. Touch yourselves, moan, do whatever, but you’re only watching.”

“Will Miss Jisoo be getting fucked?” one of the men who was very focused on Jisoo asked.

“No, not tonight,” Jennie replied, glancing at Jisoo who looked slightly uncomfortable.

“Does she want to get fucked?”

A few of the men laughed before immediately going silent under Jennie’s gaze.

“Let me remind you, this is a privilege for you guys,” Jennie hissed. “If any of you disrespect Jisoo, you’ll be handing out resumes. Understood?”

There was a collective nod through the line before Jennie walked over to you. She gestured for the camera man to move a little closer as she took your cock in her hand and started stroking you.

“As hard as you want,” she whispered into your ear so the rest of the room couldn’t hear. “No limits, blink is the safeword.”

After taking a deep breath, you pushed Jennie down to the floor until she was on her knees in front of you. As soon as you slipped your cock into her mouth, a few of the men began lowering their pants. You decided to ignore the spectators, including the cameraman, and instead you focused on the girl sucking your cock.

She really gave you no reason to complain. The way she worked her tongue around your cock felt amazing, and she had no difficulty throating your whole length. Even with your cock threatening to slip down her throat, she managed to keep working her tongue. She honestly looked stunning with a cock in her mouth, but she wasn’t the only girl in the room.

You gave Jennie a little pat on the cheek before grabbing her hand and walking her over to the bed. Jisoo, who was standing there watching, followed your instructions and lay down in the middle of the bed, her legs spread wide. Jennie crawled onto the bed, without even needing your guidance, and began eating her out.

At this point you noticed in your periphery that most of the men had their cocks out. Ignoring them again, you joined the two girls on the bed, getting right up behind Jennie’s lifted ass. You seamlessly entered her pussy, noticing very little difficulty, as if her pussy was created to accept cock.

The view was to die for. Jisoo was laying there with her eyes closed in pleasure, her hands absentmindedly groping her own tits, Jennie’s fit body eclipsing Jisoo’s pussy, her head moving around between Jisoo’s legs. Then there was Jennie’s perfectly heart-shaped ass, and between her shapely cheeks your cock disappeared over and over.

Her pussy hugged you snugly, it wasn’t the tightest, but it offered just the right amount of pressure. It was easy, jamming yourself into her, and you found her meaty pussy had a beautiful grip on your shaft, begging for you to stay inside.

She was wet, soaked actually. Her pussy, warmed by her body, was borderline slippery; It felt like you had dumped a whole bottle of lube on your cock as you slid back and forth. That’s not to say she didn’t feel amazing, though, in fact she felt fucking phenomenal. You didn’t plan on telling her this, of course, but her pussy was perfect.

Not only was Jennie’s pussy designed to be fucked, apparently her mouth was designed to eat out Jisoo. You turned your attention to the pleasure-stricken girl who was squeezing one tit hard, the softness flowing between her fingers, while her other hand was holding the back of Jennie’s head. Jisoo had her eyes shut tight, mouth wide open, head tilted back, chin up. No sounds came out, and the room was silent outside of the rhythmic slapping of your thighs on Jennie’s ass.

After fucking her pussy for a bit, you started to feel her body start contracting. It happened pretty quickly, you weren’t ready for it when her pussy suddenly clamped down on your cock. A scream filled the room, a singular curse, one that made the row of men speed up as Jennie’s body shot up, flashing the spectators.

Her ass pressed hard against your body, squishing the soft cheeks against your thighs. You tried to fuck her some more, but it was futile, her pussy was overwhelmed to the point where you couldn’t even move. What was once as easy as tying your shoes now became impossible with how tight she was.

Your hands reached around her body, relishing in the soft mounds she was sticking out for the whole room to see. Her fit body was beautifully curved, her figure dripping of sex appeal. Even though you couldn’t see it, your hands became your eyes as you mapped out her body, finally realizing how fucking nice it was. She should probably consider modeling, if she could ever take a break from getting dicked.

Apparently a break is exactly what she needed right now as she fell forward onto the bed, squeezing every nerve in your cock as she pulled out. Her whole body was trembling still, but you weren’t going to give her a break. Her body looked too good, after all, you were still being gentle.

Jisoo crawled over on the bed next to you, almost waiting for your next move. She didn’t have to wait long, as you grabbed Jennie by her hips and rolled her onto her back. You spread her legs wide, ignoring her blissful state of relaxation, and rubbed your finger up and down her pussy.

It only took a few flicks of your fingers for her to leave a noticeable wet spot on the bed beneath her. You had to catch yourself before you started drooling while you debated plunging your face into her wet pussy.

Ultimately, the tension built up in your cock prevailed, and you crawled between Jennie’s legs. You raised her legs up, holding them against your waist, lining your throbbing cock up with her pussy. You were also soaked at this point, your cock was shining just as much as Jennie’s pussy, and once again you entered her with almost no resistance.

“Fuuuuuck,” she moaned out, finally recovering enough to be sentient.

Next to you, Jisoo was carefully watching as you started to fuck Jennie again. She was so beautiful, deep down you wished you accepted the offer to take her as well, but you shot that idea away and focused on Jennie’s pussy - an easy task. You gave Jisoo a light pat on her butt, gesturing towards Jennie’s face.

Luckily, she understood the suggestion. Jisoo carefully straddled Jennie’s face, her ass pointed towards the audience while she looked into your eyes. She lowered her body until her pussy pressed up against Jennie’s mouth and started grinding her hips gently back and forth.

Joining along with her pace, you once again started thrusting your hips into Jennie’s pussy while holding her legs up against your hips. You matched Jisoo’s movements to the best of your ability, but admittedly it was getting difficult as you could feel yourself getting close.

Your body started to move of its own accord, you were losing control. Jennie’s pussy was calling to you, even though she was just laying there with Jisoo sitting on her face, you felt like she was the one forcing you to fuck her. In a way, she was, why did her pussy have to feel so good?

The race was lost, however, as Jisoo began to moan. The shy girl was now moaning unabashedly, shamelessly in front of the entire room, not caring about anything other than her orgasm. First she fell forward, her hands landing next to Jennie’s body, her tits hanging down beautifully in front of you. Then with a spasm she shot backwards, all the way off Jennie’s face and onto her back on the bed.

Jisoo's orgasm caused something deep within of you to awaken. As you dove deep into Jennie's pussy, your steady tempo was abruptly replaced with a brutally harsh, ferocious fucking. Jennie turned into your fucktoy, serving only as a gaping hole for your cock. Her tits started shaking frantically and jumping up and down.

At this point, Jennie was out of her mind. Nothing coming out of her mouth made any sense, not that you would have cared what she was saying. You knew you were about to cum hard, and Jennie’s wellbeing was not your concern, the only thing that concerned you was how wet her pussy was.

Jisoo watched patiently, her fingers gently rubbing her own pussy as she recovered from the orgasm. Her face was completely flushed, her skin sporting a thin layer of sweat.

“I’m about to cum,” you grunted, leaning forward, letting go of Jennie’s legs and grabbing her tits.

“Cum on Jisoo!” one of the executives suggested.

“Cum on her pussy!” another one shouted.

There was no real choice as a few of the others agreed, showing their support for the idea. You slammed into Jennie a couple more times, getting yourself right on the edge, before withdrawing and pushing her to the side carelessly.

Jisoo stared directly into your eyes, sadness deep in her pupils, yet she understood. Almost as if your cock was waiting for permission, Jisoo’s subtle nod set it off. Streaks of cum began spraying on her lips, coating her folds in the white mess. The spectators were pleased, thankfully, cheering you on as your mess landed all over Jisoo’s most private area.

Panting heavily, you rubbed your tip against her thigh, wiping off any remaining cum. As you admired Jisoo’s coated pussy, an idea came to you. Next to you on the bed, Jennie was gasping for breath, at least she was until her gasps were replaced by a shriek as you pulled her up by her hair. You pressed Jennie’s face into Jisoo’s pussy, holding the back of her head, preventing her from even considering moving away.

“Lap it up you little cum slut, this is the only way you’re getting any,” you whispered into her ear, pushing her face harder. “Not until you show me you deserve it straight from my cock.”

It almost seemed to encourage her, as Jennie was now shoving her face deep into Jisoo’s pussy without any assistance from your hand. With Jennie happily cleaning your cum up, you took the short break to lean next to Jisoo.

“Are you alright?” you whispered, watching as the audience was completely preoccupied by Jennie’s slurping.

“I’m fine,” she whispered back, using her hand to guide Jennie’s face between her legs. “Go again, then end with my face.”

The audience was becoming quite rowdy, chanting and cheering for Jennie. Degrading her in a sense, while praising Jisoo. Some of them showing their jealousy, pushing boundaries that Jennie probably wouldn’t approve of - that is if she could hear them. Jennie was clearly in her own world, sucking every drop of your cum possible off Jisoo’s pussy.

Ignoring the chants, you yanked Jennie by her hair and tossed her to the floor in front of the row of executives.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” she screamed, glaring at you in a way that implied she wanted to rip your head off, and you almost thought she would.

Her anger was met with a swift slap across the face, enough force to make her turn all the way around. You almost felt bad, seeing her holding her hand to her cheek, on her knees, fully nude in front of all these men - almost.

From behind, you could see Jennie’s pussy dripping with anticipation - literally. She wasted no time getting into position, hands and knees, like she was born for this one purpose alone. It made it easier for you as you walked up behind her, admiring her from behind, when suddenly you had a change of plans.

A blood-curdling scream escaped Jennie’s lips as you shoved yourself balls deep into her asshole. Her body immediately spasmed as she lunged away from you, immediately pulling away from your cock.

“A bit of a warning would have been nice, dickhead!” she screamed, rubbing her asshole.

Ignoring her rage, you casually walked up to her until your cock was right in front of her. You rubbed your cock all over her face, much to her displeasure, teasing her, making her scrunch her face up in disgust.

“Where’d I put my cock?”

“Fuck off,” she spat, trying to bat your arm away while you kept rubbing her face all over.

“Where’d I put my cock?” you asked again, this time accompanied by a tug of her hair.

She glared at you, wanting to argue more, but she was aware of your grip on her scalp and didn’t dare test you again.

“In my ass,” she mumbled.

“What was that?” you ridiculed her, slapping her cheek with your cock.

“In my ass,” she repeated more clearly, trying to ignore your humiliation.

“That’s right,” you yanked her hair enough to not really cause much pain, but just to remind her. You started rubbing your cock against her pursed lips, enjoying the visual of her trying to refuse entry. “And that’s where it’s going again, right after it goes down your throat.”

“I’m not- letting you-” she fought with your cock until she finally opened her lips just enough for you to start entering.

“Wider little slut, stop pretending you’d pass on this,” you mocked her with her own words.

Jennie’s angry gaze never dropped, even as she opened her mouth wide for your cock to the amusement of your audience. You thrust your hips deep into her, stepping forward as you did until she was practically laying down on the floor, with just her face being held up by her hair. Her slobber began flowing down her chin, pooling on her chest as you pushed down her throat a few times, pressing her nose against your body.

“Now turn around,” you spat after letting go of her head, letting her fall entirely onto her back, gasping and choking for breath. “My cock is craving your little asshole.”

She turned around, rather enthusiastically, until she was on her hands and knees in front of the audience yet again. This time, she was prepared, and she reached back with both hands to spread her cheeks as you stepped behind her, sliding your cock up and down her crack.

However, instead of thrusting right in, you decided to toy with her some more. You held the idea right in front of her face, poking at her asshole with your cock but delaying the entrance. Her skin was starting to stretch more as her hands pulled harder, spreading herself as much as she could for you.

Then you went in, with just the tip, earning a satisfied little moan. That was until you immediately pulled back out. Jennie immediately looked back over her shoulder, even angrier now that you were refusing to fuck her ass than she was when you shoved it in without warning.

She opened her mouth to complain, but she promptly reconsidered as you put your tip back into her tight asshole. She knew that you had all the control and she couldn’t do anything about it.

“Do you want your asshole fucked, little slut?”

There was no right answer, and she knew it, so she stayed silent as you pushed a little bit deeper than your tip.

“Do you?” you asked again, pushing even deeper.

Jennie let go of her ass cheeks, bringing both arms forward to support her body as she dipped her head.

“No? Alright,” you teased some more, pulling back until only your tip was inside.

“Please!” she screamed. “Just fuck me already.”

Time for teasing was over, and in one singular movement you inserted your cock all the way into her asshole. She screamed again - not that you cared - and you began ramming her asshole with as much force as you could muster. It was no easy task, her asshole was tight.

“Oh fuck!” she cried out as you began spanking her ass. “Oh fuck oh fuck!”

Her vocabulary diminished tremendously, and soon nothing but various profanities escaped her lips. The waves rippling up her body each time you slammed into her tight little ass were beautiful; Jennie took dick like an expert, knowing just how to make it look good.

She had her back arched just enough to where her ass was clearly visible to all the men, and you knew even though you couldn’t see them that her tits were hanging and swinging beautifully for everyone to see. Without slowing down the brutal pace of Jennie’s assfucking, you bent over her body and reached an arm around her chest.

It’s not like she had the biggest tits ever, but they were an amazing handful. So soft, so jiggly, fighting to escape your grip as her entire body was shaking with each thrust of your hips. You placed her nipple between your fingers, squeezing it as hard as her tight asshole was squeezing your cock.

Whether or not she noticed wasn’t very clear - her moans and screams were incessant either way. Your grunts were being completely masked by the loud slaps of skin on skin and Jennie’s harmonious cries of pleasure.

Jennie’s tight asshole had your cock ready to explode again. Even after everything tonight, just a few minutes in Jennie’s ass was all it took, but who could blame you? You were starting to understand why everyone was going crazy for this girl, her asshole felt so fucking good.

That didn’t make her any less of a cock slut, though. Not only was she taking your thrusting, she was also pushing herself back onto your body each time. Even if you stopped moving your hips, not that you physically had it in you to stop, she would still be fucking herself on you.

Unfortunately for Jennie - and fortunately for you - her asshole had brought you to completion already. Her tight squeeze was too much for you, and at this point after all the action tonight your cock was getting painfully sensitive; After one final thrust with all of your strength, you pulled out of her asshole.

She let out a disappointed moan the second your cock left her body - this girl was impossible to satisfy apparently. You gave her ass one last farewell slap before walking over to Jisoo, who had been touching herself while watching you plow Jennie, you could have sworn there was a hint of envy in her face.

As you got in front of Jisoo, you silently mouthed “I’m sorry” to which she simply replied by grabbing your cock, forcing your hand away. She began to stroke you, pointing your cock directly at her face. Her cute little tongue even poked out as she opened her mouth, ready for you, ready to accept you.

She stroked you fast and hard, not wanting to delay this final act of the show. Right in front of the row of men, you angled her slightly to give them the best view - if you were going to do this, might as well do it right. You placed one hand on the back of Jisoo’s head for support, your cock nearing yet another orgasm to the sound of Jisoo’s hand.

“Jisoo,” you grunted, one final word before you painted her face for the second time that night. Her beauty must have something to do with it, or perhaps Jennie’s tight asshole was the culprit, but despite blowing multiple loads tonight, you still somehow had enough in the tank to cover her face thoroughly.

Streak after streak of cum landed directly in the middle of her face, lines going up from her lips to her forehead. With the help of your hand, which you wrapped around Jisoo’s, you let the subsequent pumps land on her cheek. After Jisoo’s face was yet again coated in a fresh layer of cum, you let go of her head, letting her turn to the row of men watching and strike a few poses.

As they took their final mental pictures of the aftermath, you collapsed backwards, sitting on the edge of the bed trying to catch your breath - this ordeal became more of a workout than expected. Next to you, balled up on the floor with a hand between her legs, was Jennie, whimpering softly.

“Hey, you alright?” you whispered, holding a hand out to her.

She looked up at you, mascara dripping down her face, before accepting your hand. You pulled her up, sitting her on the edge of the bed with you.

“No one tonight,” she mumbled, “not a single person has fucked me the way you did.”

It was a coin-toss between sorry and you’re welcome, but in the end you went with “you’re welcome”.

“Seriously,” she moaned, leaning over slightly onto you as if to show you how sore her ass was right now. “They used to, but these last few years everyone has been too scared.”

“It helps that I don’t know who you are,” you replied, reaching a hand around her and grabbing her ass. “I’ll give you credit though, you take dick pretty well.”

“I’m sure you’ll find out by next year, but make me one promise,” Jennie replied. “If you do end up coming again, treat me exactly like you did tonight.”

“My God, you really are just a little slut aren’t you?” you asked while giving her ass a hard slap. “You just can’t get enough of it.” you continued as you grabbed her by her hair, bending her over your lap. You shoved her down onto your cock, filling her mouth with whatever remnants of your actions were coating your shaft, and started using your hand to press her mouth all the way down your cock.

“Mmphmphmmm!” she gagged as your semi-erect cock went down her throat.

“Good little slut,” you teased before yanking her up by her hair. “Maybe I will let you suck the cum out of my cock next time.”

Coughing and spitting, Jennie looked up at you, her face bright red.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” she coughed, her happiness palpable. “I’m your little slut from now on.”

—

The aftermath got a bit hectic as a few of the execs saw you using Jennie’s mouth like a fleshlight and decided they wanted a turn - an idea Jennie wholeheartedly approved of. Jisoo and you didn’t get to speak much as she immediately began talking to some very important looking men outside, but she smiled warmly at you as you walked away. You hoped to catch up with her at some point again, make sure she got what she deserved with her solo.

It took way longer than expected, but you made your way back to Lisa’s room, checking the time to see it was just past midnight. As you walked, basically ran, through the hallways, all you could do was pray Lisa was still waiting. You had been through quite the ordeal, but she was still the girl you wanted tonight.

Panting and heaving, you arrived in front of her door. You quickly fixed up your clothes to the best of your ability, stood up straight, and knocked. Some movement was heard inside before the door swung open, and in front of you was an adorable girl wearing the widest smile imaginable.

“You actually came back.”

“I promised I would,” you said, accepting her invitation into the room. “I’m so sorry it took so long, things got complicated.”

“How did it go?” she asked, closing the door behind you.

“It was… interesting,” you answered truthfully.

“Look, we don’t have to talk about it,” Lisa said, her cheeks lightly blushed. “I know how these parties work, I know you were with a girl.”

“I’m sorry, please-”

“I won’t hold it against you,” Lisa said, looking into your eyes tenderly. “Like I said I understand how things work here, I still want to see what comes of this.”

“In that case,” you whispered, stepping up right in front of her with your hand pushing up on her chin gently. “Let’s continue where we left off.”

With her warm smile, she leaned forward and kissed you, a short and soft kiss.

“Sure, but first go shower,” Lisa giggled. “I said I understand, but I don’t want to be constantly reminded of how you just fucked another girl. You smell like sex.”

—

After a quick shower, you wrapped yourself in a towel and left the bathroom. You could hear two female voices, not something you expected. As you entered the room, you found Lisa sitting on the bed next to a familiar face.

“Bunny mask?!” Jisoo gasped.

“This is him?” Lisa gasped in pure shock as if her whole world was a lie.

“What are… why are… how…?” Jisoo stumbled, apparently incapable of forming even one sentence. “Why are you here?”

“Lisa and I were-”

“Thank you so much,” Lisa squealed, jumping off the bed and jumping into your arms. “Jisoo told me how you were the only one.”

“I just did what any decent person would have done,” you responded, holding Lisa up in your arms.

“Yet you were the only one who didn’t treat me like a toy for their pleasure,” Jisoo mumbled quietly.

“Thank you thank you thank you,” Lisa repeated while peppering your face with kisses. “I can’t believe I was upset with you for being late.”

“You were upset?”

“Wait, so you two…” Jisoo began to ask as Lisa hopped down from your embrace.

“He’s my boyfriend,” Lisa answered, pulling you onto the bed with her.

“I am?” you laughed, falling on top of her.

“No, but you never know,” Lisa winked, her playful demeanor returning in full force.

“In that case, I think I’ll leave you two to it,” Jisoo said, standing up from the bed.

“Don’t go!” you and Lisa shouted in unison before looking at each other.

Lisa cocked an eyebrow while staring at you, still smirking.

“You know what, maybe I’m the one who should leave,” Lisa suggested, pushing you off her.

“Wait no, Lisa,” you held her back.

“I’m not leaving for good,” she rolled her eyes at you. “I’ll just be in the other room, I think you two should have some time in private.”

“You’re fine with that?” you stuttered, shocked at her suggestion. It was one thing when you were forced to do something for your job, but she was still fine with it now?

“I meant to talk,” Lisa chuckled as she walked off. She leaned up against the bedroom door, looking back over her shoulder. “Oh and after you’re done talking to Jisoo with your cock, this will be waiting for you,” she added while sticking her ass out towards you and slapping it.

Jisoo’s face turned bright red in embarrassment as Lisa left to go to the other room, leaving just the two of you together.

“We don’t actually have to-”

“Thank you,” Jisoo cut you off.

You almost forgot how gorgeous she was.

“Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, unsure what to say.

“I’m fine,” Jisoo answered, unable to look directly at you. “I just never properly thanked you earlier…”

“And I told you, I just did what any decent person would do.”

“I did things tonight I never thought I would do,” Jisoo said quietly, staring at her lap. “If it weren’t for you, I probably would have had to lose my…” she choked up. “To one of those…”

“Jisoo,” you scooted over on the bed closer to her and grabbed her hand. “Like I said earlier, tonight doesn’t define you.”

“My solo,” she said while looking into your eyes, her own eyes moist. “I’ll always be reminded…”

“Reminded of how hard you work,” you interrupted her. “And of nothing else.”

Her smile warmed your heart all the way to the core, so endearing and genuine. She was always pretty, but her smile elevated her perfect visual even more somehow.

“I want to remember one more thing,” she whispered, leaning closer to you with her eyes starting to close. “Can you help me with that?”

Both of you began kissing, softly and tenderly. You closed your eyes as well, immersing yourself entirely in the kiss, wrapping your arms around her body. She reciprocated, both of you touching as much of each other as you possibly could while your lips remained fixed together. As the kiss went on, you ended up gently pushing forward until Jisoo was on her back. As your lips parted, you opened your eyes to look down at her as she looked up at you, her eyes sparkling.

“I want to remember tonight forever,” she whispered as her hands reached up to your pants. “The right way.”

“Are you sure this is what you want?” you whispered back as she released your cock from your pants.

She answered your question with a kiss, this time her hands caressing your face tenderly like a lover. You kissed her back, slowly removing her clothes as you did. It wasn’t easy, stripping her down while keeping your tongue down her throat, but eventually you got there.

Your fingers made their way between her legs again, reuniting with the touch of her pussy. You let go of her mouth, lifting yourself above her slightly - you wanted to see her face as you went in for the first time.

“Ready?” you whispered into her face, receiving a nod of approval. “Tell me if I should stop.”

For the thousandth time that night, you were reminded of how beautiful Jisoo was. Precious, loveable, endearing, she looked up at you, her hands holding onto your biceps. Your cock was poised, held right in front of her pussy, ready to enter. Slowly, with the utmost care, you began to push into her.

Perfection was the only word that went through your mind as you entered. You went slowly, giving Jisoo ample time to adjust. She began to bite her lower lip, whimpering quietly as you pushed into her soft pussy. The warmth of her body engulfed you, burning your cock up with passion.

Her legs wrapped around your hips, hugging you as tightly as her pussy hugged your cock. You held still, just until her frantic breaths calmed down, relaxing just a bit. The grip she had on your arms began to falter as you pushed deeper inside her; You quickly caught her hands as she let go, interlocking your fingers with hers.

Then you pulled back, appreciating every possible sensation her pussy shot through your body. Back in you went, just as slowly and carefully as the first time. Her legs squeezed harder on your body, locking you in place, not letting you leave her pussy - not that you wanted to.

Somehow she began heating up even more, yet you didn’t care. You started to move just a little faster, using her moans as a cue to know when you were going too fast. It took some time, a construct that was lost on you at the moment, but eventually Jisoo was accepting your cock completely.

Deeper and deeper you pushed, testing her limits while still hyper-focusing on her reactions. As long as it looked like she was enjoying it, you kept going. Once you found yourself moving at a very comfortable pace, it didn’t take long for Jisoo’s moans to properly fill your ears.

There was no pornstar level screeching, Jisoo was too classy for that. She didn’t need to fake anything, either, your cock was hitting all the right buttons. The more you fucked her, the more her pussy leaked, making it easier to slide in and out of her burning tight pussy.

“Where?” you grunted softly.

“Inside,” Jisoo moaned, craning her neck upwards.

You leaned forward into her, pressing your mouth against hers. She let go of your hands, and her arms joined her legs as they wrapped around your body. You were locked in, physically impossible for you to be touching more of Jisoo’s soft skin.

Your thrusts sped up, not going nearly as deep anymore. At this point you couldn’t hold back, and with how Jisoo was kissing you, it was time. Your cock began to pulsate inside her warm pussy, filling her up pump by pump. The entire time, you kept your lips on hers, your tongues playfully fighting as your cock shot your seed deep inside her, until you felt your cock stop.

Now you were the one panting heavily, gasping for breath in Jisoo’s ear as she hugged you, her limbs still wrapped around your body. Your cock wouldn’t leave her warmth, it was too comforting. The two of you lay there, wrapped up in each other, until Jisoo spoke up with her croaky voice, dripping with emotion.

“I’ll never forget.”

—

“You really managed to hit three of the four tonight,” Lisa said informally, putting her phone on the side table. “You know, some people would literally murder you for that.”

“Do me a favor then,” you sighed, collapsing face down onto her bed. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“I was going to say I won’t as long as you fuck me,” Lisa giggled as she slid over and hugged you from behind. “But at this point I don’t know if you have it in you.”

“I do.” you mumbled into the bed. “Just give me a minute.”

“I’ll even give you two minutes,” Lisa joked, laying next to you on the bed.

“Three of the four huh,” you turned to your side to face Lisa. “Might as well go for the whole set tonight.”

“You’re not even done with my turn yet,” Lisa pouted, a hint of annoyance in her voice at the suggestion of another girl. “Plus, Rosie’s probably busy taking a really big dick tonight.”

“Is there anything you girls don’t share with each other?”

“This is different!” Lisa laughed. “Jennie told me about him, because of course she’s sucked his cock before, then I told Rosie I was considering him.”

“Wow so I’m just your second choice?”

“Oh stop it,” Lisa gave your arm a little slap. “Based on your night, I’m your third choice.”

“I… didn’t mean for it to work out like this,” you said disheartedly. “I really like you Lisa, a lot.”

“Alright, I’ll confess,” Lisa began to explain. “The four of us have a bit of a deal, we’re not supposed to hold anything that happens at these parties against each other. Anything.”

“I see… why?”

“Because that’s just how these parties work,” she replied before nervously hesitating. “We’ve all done some… unsavory acts here.”

“If I asked, would you tell?”

“Mine wasn’t that bad, honestly speaking,” Lisa answered. “Just a few execs taking turns, nothing rough, I did most of the work.”

“A few?” you clarified.

“Okay maybe more than a few,” she chuckled. “It was a long night.”

“Honestly I’m not one to judge,” you muttered while massaging one of her butt cheeks.

“And this is why the four of us made this pact,” Lisa continued. “Rosie’s was bad, really bad, I think that’s why Jisoo refused to participate for so long.”

“How bad are we talking?” you asked. “Without going into details.”

“Her’s was a bit more intense on the fetish side,” Lisa answered hesitantly. “I’m just glad there was no recording, but the three of us watched and it wasn’t particularly flattering of her character.”

“I guess that just leaves Jennie.”

“Oh Jennie is the biggest slut ever,” Lisa replied, her tone completely shifting. “When she first came to one of these, there wasn’t even a promise of a solo. She was just a complete slut and couldn’t satiate her cock cravings.”

“She does give me that vibe,” you laughed. “She’s young, rich, and powerful, I guess it’s her right to whore herself out if that’s what she wants.”

“Jisoo told me you were a bit rough with that slut,” Lisa whispered as she climbed on top of you.

“Only because she deserved it.”

“Yeah? Did you fuck that little slut?” she moaned, grinding her body on your crotch, forcing the blood to rush to your cock. “Did you fuck her hard?”

“I did,” you grunted as Lisa pressed down harder.

“I don’t believe you,” Lisa teased as she slipped off her top, leaving her straddling your body with just a thin piece of cloth barely eligible to be called a bra covering her torso. “Why don’t you show me how hard you fucked her.”

She was too much for you. Ever since you first saw her on the dance floor earlier, you had been dreaming of this moment. Never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined it to come true, especially this quickly; Even then, you simply did not have it in you to wait any longer. You grabbed her waist and flung her around onto the bed, slamming her back into the soft cushioning.

“Oh!” she squealed as she instinctively wrapped her legs around you. “Is baby boy going to plow my little pussy?”

“Is that what baby girl wants?” you replied while dropping your pants. You started rubbing your cock against her panties.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Lisa whined, her cuteness overpowering you. “I’ve been such a good girl, I waited for you to fuck Jennie, then-”

“Shh,” you hushed her with a finger against her lips. “I’d pick you over either of them.”

It was Lisa’s turn to flip you onto your back, shocking you with how much strength such a small girl had.

“You sure? That kiss sounded pretty passionate,” Lisa smirked, removing her tiny bra.

“You listened?” you asked while grabbing Lisa’s ass with both hands, pressing down into the beautiful cushioning.

“I watched,” Lisa moaned, bending over your body, pulling her panties to the side.

“Naughty girl,” you grunted as she put your tip right up against her pussy.

Your mind went completely numb - how could a girl be this fucking tight? Her pussy was easily the tightest you have ever had. You almost considered looking for some lube, which probably wouldn’t be too difficult to find after hearing about Jennie’s tendencies.

Lisa’s core muscles were captivating your attention - as much as you could spare. Her flexed body as she started riding you looked fucking amazing. She was so small, yet her body was so hot, toned and muscular. Just like the dance floor earlier, she moved in ways you didn’t know were possible, the tightness of her pussy being no point of contention.

She rode you for a bit longer, each time her body bounced on your cock it filled you with energy. Enthusiasm began filling your body, and soon you found yourself thrusting your hips upwards into her tightness. Sweat began dripping off her, yet she still rode with the same level of energy and commitment - this girl didn’t believe in laziness.

After just a bit more, you decided she earned a break. It was time for her to let you do the work. You let go of her ass, sure you left an imprint of your hand with how hard you were gripping it, and you slid your hands up her sweaty body towards her hips. In one swift motion, you cock never leaving her pussy, you flipped her onto her back.

“Oh baby boy,” she huffed, falling onto her back, her hair splayed all over the bed. “You’re so fucking hot.”

For just a moment, you explored her toned core with your hands while you bent over her body and sucked on her neck. The salty sweat of her skin was like fuel for your cock, and slowly you began thrusting into her pussy which was as tight as ever.

Despite her pussy making it difficult, you pushed harder, essentially forcing yourself into her body. You could even feel her trying to push back towards you, at least as much as she could while on her back, but you didn’t need her help. You just needed her.

It was already getting comfortable, or rather your lust for Lisa’s pussy was just overwhelming the difficulty of taking it. Either way, your cock began to pump inside her, relishing in the pressure. Slowly but surely you began to speed up, thrusting your hips deep into her at every opportunity. Your cock never went half way, each thrust shoved it as deep as possible.

Lisa’s arched back would have been enough to let you know how much she liked it, but her moaning was just exemplary. She had no shyness when it came to being vocal, encouraging you to keep fucking her tight little pussy with her words, her incoherent words which made absolutely perfect sense.

It was unclear how long you fucked her like this, at this point you basically felt drunk, completely intoxicated on Lisa’s body. She was just so tight. You grabbed the backs of her thighs, your hands sinking into her softness, and pushed them forward. Her knees went up towards her chest, and the modified position by some miracle made her pussy even tighter.

“Holy fucking shit Lisa,” you cried, pushing your cock as deep as the new angle allowed. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“Fuck me baby boy,” she hummed, her smile showcasing those adorable dimples. “Fuck this little pussy good.”

Her tightness was building up the pressure too quickly, your cock barely listened to you anymore. You couldn’t cum yet, you were far from done with Lisa’s pussy. Swiftly, you withdrew your cock, pulling back all the way and shoving your face between her legs before she could voice her displeasure.

Disappointed or not, you had no idea, but Lisa wrapped her legs around your head. Her thighs squeezed the sides of your face as your mouth filled itself with her pussy. You shoved your tongue all over her folds, licking her up entirely before plunging it inside. The tightness fought back, but ultimately you won, shoving your tongue into her pussy and licking from the inside.

Her pussy tasted just as addicting as it felt. You felt her hands grab your hair, pulling each time your tongue hit the sensitive parts. Breathing was becoming difficult, yet you were delighted just inhaling Lisa’s little pussy.

Lisa must have been delighted as well, as you could feel her thighs squeezing harder and harder against your face. Her pussy was leaking more and more, the wetness covering your tongue until there was too much. You licked through, not caring about the mess all over your face, when suddenly Lisa began crying out.

A gush of liquid rushed out of her pussy and onto your face with force. Some of it even flew up, and you felt it land on top of your head. So, Lisa was a squirter. It was physically impossible to lap up everything that was shooting out of her pussy, despite your best efforts. She kept squirting, and you could feel drops landing as far as your back, the image of her wetness flying over your body flashing through your mind.

After licking her up, making sure your saliva covered every piece of skin between her legs, you pushed her thighs apart. You would have happily sucked on her pussy longer, maybe even all night if she was willing, but your cock was itching to get back inside her.

Lisa completely revitalized the lust burning inside you, even after all you did today, you somehow couldn’t get enough of her. You stood up from the bed, grabbing her hands and pulling her towards you.

At first she was confused, but then she quickly realized what you wanted. She hopped up into your arms, wrapping her arms around your shoulder while you grabbed her soft ass from below. With her legs encasing your body for support, you grabbed your cock and fumbled around until you found her pussy again.

Thankfully, she was light, and holding her up was no issue. With her help, the two of you adjusted until your cock pushed inside her pussy. You began to bounce her up and down, the tightness of her body becoming comfortable to you now.

Her small tits were pressed right up against your face, and you took the opportunity to suck on her nipples. She was sensitive, very sensitive, and she immediately moaned as soon as your tongue touched the little nub. You sucked and licked, alternating between the two, until you no longer had the energy.

Your grip on her ass was beginning to slip, the sweat making it difficult to hold her up. Your cock was burning up, getting close, but you didn’t have the strength to hold her up anymore.

You collapsed onto the ground, fatigue hitting you like a truck. Lisa fell with you, her tight pussy keeping your cock inside her. She kissed your mouth a few times, but you didn’t have the energy to kiss her back. Luckily she didn’t seem to care, and she was already twerking her pussy on your cock.

There was no more control of what was happening, your orgasm was coming and there was nothing you could do. Holding back was no longer an option, Lisa was going to ride it out of you. She kept kissing you while her pussy kept bouncing up and down.

After some unknown amount of time, everything was a blur at this point, you felt an intense rush of pressure down your spine. Your cock had been building up pressure, and just like that it became too much. That first shot of cum went deep through Lisa’s body, you could feel the force. This was easily your most intense orgasm of the night.

“Fuck Lisa,” you cried out as she immediately jumped off your cock with nimble precision and repositioned herself, making the second blast of cum launch directly up into her face, hitting her on the nose.

She put her mouth on your tip, holding her hair back with one hand, her lips pouted over your tip creating a tight seal. Your next few blasts went straight down her throat, you had no idea how there was still so much power.

Lisa’s lips moved back and forth slightly, sucking the cum straight out of you, not giving your sensitive cock even a second of reprieve from her desires. Eventually you felt the pressure of your blasts calm down, but Lisa still kept sucking on your tip. Wasting cum was not an option.

“Lisa please,” you begged, your hands balled up in fists.

She looked up at you, the sexiest gaze you’ve ever seen, and she lifted her mouth just above your cock. Her lips parted, and a rush of white goo spilled out, coating your shaft like a waterfall. Without even giving you time to react, she plunged her mouth all the way down your cock again before slowly lifting her face up, all of the cum that spilled being recollected in her mouth.

“Holy fucking shit,” you sobbed, the sensitivity in your cock becoming too much. “I fucking love you Lisa.”

Her smile was to die for, she just knew how to make you fall for her. She tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and gulped, sending your cum straight down her throat. With a satisfying gasp, she opened her mouth, smiling brightly.

“Yummy,” she giggled, crawling forward and laying on your chest.

“Is the… girlfriend thing… still… an option?” you panted, wrapping your arms around her. “Please?”

“I’ll consider it in the morning,” Lisa smiled at you. “I don’t think Rosie is coming tonight, wanna sleep with me?”

“I wanna sleep with you every night,” you sighed, suddenly full of emotion.

“Let’s talk about that more tomorrow,” Lisa laughed before kissing you. “Not right after you cum in my mouth.”

“Does that mean I’m not cumming in your mouth tomorrow?”

The last thing you remember was Lisa’s adorable giggle before your world turned to black, fatigue knocking you out completely.

—

Waking up to a familiar sensation is always nice, but waking up to a mouth around your cock was the best.

“Oh baby,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes. “Lisa, What time is it?”

“Not Lisa,” a soft Australian accent pleasured your ears.

Your eyes shot open and you sat up, realizing you were still on the floor, completely nude. Between your legs was a slender girl - one who was most definitely not Lisa. She didn’t even bother looking up at you, she was too focused on your cock.

It was like she was worshiping it, planting kisses all over. Her tongue ran up and down your length, then her lips pressed against your shaft, she was tasting your cock entirely, putting extra focus on your balls. You were stunned, your freshly woken up brain not piecing together what was going on.

“Who…?”

“You can call me Rosie,” the girl sang with that beautifully intoxicating accent. “Or baby, that sounded pretty nice.”

“What…?”

“I’ve realized something tonight,” Rosé said while licking your cock between words. “Some guys just don’t give a shit.”

“I don’t-”

“I’m not asking for much, just someone to put their dick in me and move their hips a bit,” she sighed. “Having a huge cock doesn’t give you an excuse to just lay there like a fucking starfish.”

She moved her face lower, putting your balls in her mouth and shaking her head side to side, coating them in her saliva as well. It was so casual for her, she almost seemed uninterested, yet at the same time she seemed obsessed with your balls.

“Can you believe I did everything for him,” Rosé continued after exhaling heavily, now finally looking up at you. “He didn’t even have the decency to make me cum one time.”

“Rosie, I have no-”

“Baby,” she cut you off. “Baby definitely sounds better.”

She put your cock back into her mouth, making a twisting motion with her hand gripped around your shaft while her tongue focused on your tip. She prodded your entrance lightly, licking circles around it, while her hand stroked you until you were rock hard.

“Umm, alright, baby,” you stuttered, the feeling around your cock making it extra difficult to focus. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s not important,” she released your cock with an audible pop. “All that matters is that I was with a disappointment tonight, and now I want to be with someone who cares.”

“How do you know I’m that person,” you moaned, each word becoming more difficult as she stroked your cock. “Maybe I’m just as bad.”

“Unlikely,” Rosé laughed. “This is the first time Lisa has ever let a guy stay the night, and based on what you were wearing when I walked in, I have a feeling I know what the two of you were doing.”

“I don’t think Lisa would be fond of it,” you said while grabbing Rosé’s wrist, stopping her strokes.

“Just don’t tell her, then,” she suggested, bringing her other hand to your cock. “I won’t.”

“Even if I wanted to lie to her, which I don’t, there’s one issue,” you replied, turning your head towards the bed and nodding with your eyebrows raised.

Rosé shook her head, chuckling lightly before turning as well.

“Lisa-yah! Can your friend fuck me?” she shouted towards the bed.

“Mmmm,” Lisa moaned.

“Is that a yes?” Rosé shouted again.

“Yeah,” Lisa sighed, not wanting to get out of bed. “Just don’t be so loud…”

“See,” Rosé smiled. “She approves.”

“I don’t know if that counts…” you hesitated.

Rose rolled her eyes and stood up, leaving your cock awfully lonely. She reached underneath her skirt, one so short it didn’t even make it halfway down her thighs, and slipped off her panties. Picking them up from her ankles, she crouched down next to you and put the blue garment into your mouth.

“Just stop thinking so hard,” she whispered into your ear before sliding down onto your body, running her hands along your chest. “I promise she won’t be upset, you can trust me.”

Right, their little pact. Even if Lisa hadn’t told you about their deal beforehand, for some reason you did trust her. Maybe it was her accent, or that pretty blonde hair that fit her slender body so well. Maybe it was because she introduced herself to you with her mouth around your cock.

Whatever it was, you didn’t even flinch as she began to lower her body onto your lap. She sat down on your cock, reminding you immediately of how sensitive it was despite her pussy being so gentle. Even though she seemed mostly disinterested, putting up the facade of you just being a glorified dildo for her, you could see that she was lusting for someone to actually fuck her properly tonight.

It became your goal to become that someone. Maybe it was because she was hot, stupidly hot. Maybe it was because you wanted to make her cry out with that to-die-for accent. Maybe your libido was malfunctioning, always craving more. Or maybe it was just because she introduced herself to you with her mouth around your cock - that seems to be the trick.

Frankly, it didn’t matter why you wanted to fuck this beautiful girl. It didn’t matter why she wanted you to fuck her, either. What did matter was that you were going to fuck her, and you were done waiting. You pulled the panties out of your mouth and got ready.

“Put it in, baby,” you whispered as you wrapped your arms around her waist, resting them on her hips.

She didn’t need to be told twice. With your chests still pressed against each other’s, she reached a hand down from behind her back and grabbed your shaft. Without much teasing, she slowly lowered herself down onto your cock, taking the entire length on the first go.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips the second you entered her. She wasn’t as tight as Lisa, she wasn’t as wet as Jennie or Jisoo, but one thing was certain - she was warm. Her body was like a blanket for your cock, not too hot to where it hurt, but the warmth was screaming to you, describing just how unsatisfied her pussy was tonight: before you.

Your bodies moved in tandem, her hands kept touching you everywhere, and your hips worked as one unit with a unified goal: The goal to make this beautiful girl lose her mind. The more you fucked her, the warmer and tighter she became; She was almost Lisa levels of tight now, but not quite.

“Come on baby, lemme hear you scream,” you grunted, adding some extra force to your hips.

“Keep fucking me like this and you will,” she moaned, the enthusiasm in her riding increasing as well. “Keep fucking me, keep fucking me.”

This was the plan. You clutched her waist and fucked her as quickly as you could. The incessant, never-ending slapping sound of your bodies felt as though it could probably be heard three rooms down - not that you cared. Rosé's face was brimming with delight but the rest of her body froze as you enjoyed her pussy.

“Oh yeah baby,” you groaned, building up a sweat as you exerted all your energy.

“You’re going to make me cum!” she cried out, her accent getting thicker. “Keep fucking me, don’t fucking stop!”

“Cum for me baby,” you moaned right next to her ear, slamming your cock into her as hard as possible. “Do it baby, just fucking do it.”

“Oh fuck,” she cried out one last time before it happened.

She started to cum, a small rush of liquid flowing down onto your thighs. You almost wouldn’t have been able to tell she was cumming, her pussy didn’t pulse like the other girls, but her cries of pleasure were all the confirmation you needed - she was literally sobbing as if you changed her life with this orgasm.

Her fingers were digging into your shoulders as you slowed down your thrusting, making sure she rode out her orgasm to the fullest. You let go of her hips and reached up the back of her skirt, giving her small ass a few squeezes.

With how preoccupied you were with Rosé’s pussy, you didn’t even notice Lisa had gotten out of bed until you felt her hands wrap around your chest from behind.

“Baby boy,” Lisa purred into your ear. “I don’t care if you fuck her, I actually liked watching it, but if you call her baby one more time I’m going to fucking murder you tonight.”

Her threat sent shivers down your entire body. That sweetly cute voice of hers threatening you in such a provocative way, it was almost embarrassing to admit it turned you on more than the girl you were balls deep in right now.

“I’m sorry baby girl,” you moaned back, turning your face to kiss her cheek as she watched you fuck her roommate senseless.

“I’ll forgive you, but you have to work for it,” she whispered as she pulled you down by your shoulders until you were laying on your back, Rosé still riding you slowly the entire time. “Can you give me what I want?” she asked, voice dripping with seduction, holding your head in her lap.

“Anything,” you moaned as you could feel Rosé start to slow down until she stopped riding you completely, holding herself on your cock.

Lisa carefully moved back, letting your head rest on the floor, before she started crawling over your body. The warmth around your cock suddenly disappeared as Lisa’s wet little pussy was held in front of you, and then that warmth was replaced by pure wetness.

Anything, you would do anything to see what the two girls were doing as you felt their tongues licking your cock. The swirling around your tip, the circles around your shaft, up and down your length, a few kisses of wetness against your balls, the two girls had absolutely no holds reserved when it came to rubbing their tongues on your cock.

Inevitably, you felt precum leaking out of your tip, just to be immediately lapped up by one of them - probably Lisa. The other mouth, which you assume was Rosé, began sucking on your balls. It was too much for you, the two mouths on your cock were too good at this.

On top of that, all you could see was Lisa’s pussy in front of you. You couldn’t take it anymore, the wet shine threatening to drip onto your face, but never doing so. You reached up with both hands and grabbed Lisa’s body, plunging her down onto your face.

Immediately, you heard her moan, even with your cock in her mouth. Her pussy filled your senses, giving you a tiny bit of a distraction from the two girls sucking your cock. It didn’t matter though, the second you tasted Lisa’s pussy, you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

Your cock immediately began to pulse, you were just seconds away from coating the inside of Lisa’s mouth with cum. You almost wanted to warn her, but your body wanted to make the most of these few seconds, sucking on Lisa’s pussy as hard as you could. At this point you lost all control over your body. Your tongue only knew one thing in the world: Lisa’s pussy.

It wasn’t until your cock paralyzed the rest of your body as it started launching cum into Lisa’s mouth. Lisa stopped moving, holding steady, just using her tongue to help propel your cum down her throat, but Rosé never stopped licking your balls. Even as your cock exploded, Rosé just couldn’t get enough.

Lisa pressed her body down a bit harder on your face, her pussy rubbing up against your open mouth. You didn’t have the motor control to lick her anymore, your mind was too numbed by the orgasm. It was still going, your cock was still launching cum into the warmth of Lisa’s mouth.

As you were starting to get light-headed, either from the orgasm or the lack of breathing thanks to Lisa’s pussy suffocating you, she got off your face and moved her body to the side. Her mouth was still glued to your cock, she didn’t want to waste any of your precious cum, but now she could look at you.

She waited patiently for you to stop unloading before finally lifting her mouth. This time, no cum spilled out of her mouth as she lifted herself up. Leaning forward, pushing her cute tits together with her arms, she stared you dead in the eyes as she swallowed the entire load. No shudder, no shiver, nothing at all to indicate she didn’t absolutely adore swallowing your cum.

“Lisa,” you moaned, completely exhausted.

She looked at you for a brief second before she noticed a few dribbles of cum leak out of your tip, sliding down towards your balls where Rosé was now kissing them repeatedly. The little bit of cum made it all the way down to your balls where Rosé paid little attention - until Lisa lifted her face off your balls.

Lisa leaned forward and kissed Rosé, stealing the tiny bit of your cum that was on her lips, before she bent over your lap again and ran her tongue up your shaft. She really did not believe in wasting a single drop - she was addicted to your cum. After swallowing it again, she crawled over your body until she was laying directly on top of you, while Rosé returned to your balls.

“Remember one thing,” Lisa said softly into your face. “I’m the only one you can call baby.”

“Does that mean we’re officially dating?”

---

A/N:

Yeah... this fic ended up being over 21k words. I guess I still like some things about Blackpink nowadays. Hopefully it was an enjoyable read, I had a lot of fun writing this one.

Anyway, feel free to send me messages or requests or whatever you feel like. Comments, messages, totally up to you guys. Not much else to say, just that I had a lot of upcoming projects that I'm currently working on.

THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR BEING SO DAMN SUPPORTIVE. I'll say it over and over and over and over, because I really appreciate the positivity!

#kpop smut #smut #fanfiction #kpop fanfic #blackpink smut #lisa smut #jisoo smut #jennie smut #rose smut #male reader

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meiieiri · 5 months

Text

water’s edge | 02

₊˚.༄ pairing: crown prince!gojo satoru x f!reader | setting: modern royal au | official playlist

₊˚.༄ summary: in a world where titles define their fates, gojo satoru, the crown prince of japan, and his wife-to-be, face a tempestuous court of deception and schadenfreude. as they waltz on the edge of ruin, can their love endure the treacherous waters that threaten to pull them apart, or will the whims of the enigmatic chrysanthemum throne prove strong enough to drown them both?

₊˚.༄ author’s note: did i really just punch out a 12.9k chapter? 😅 thank you again to the loml @angstbot2000 for beta-reading! sorry for the wait everyone and thank uou for the sweet messages! again, reblogs are highly appreciated.

₊˚.༄ masterlist

Flashback: Shinjuku Opera City (a week after the jubilee gala)

Click. Beep. beep. beep Your wristwatch mimicked a ticking time bomb right now. You breathe once to make sure you were still, for all intents and purposes, alive. The smell of the Sauvignon blanc laid in front of you was so heavenly, its grape-like aroma tempting you to take a sip but you couldn’t, afraid that your body will just reject it in its current state of shock. You must have had a few too many earlier, your commoner palette not exactly used to the refreshing and crisp taste of white wine directly sourced from the rolling hills of Pouilly-Fume, and you must be hallucinating all this in your drunken stupor. Yes, all this was a hallucination, some sick naive dream you conjured after sharing a passing glance with the prince of the nation. It had to be, otherwise, why does it feel that your body has shut down? You were unable to move. Unable to speak. Unable to think.

And you were adamantly sure that you had also been rendered unable to breathe.

“…Huh?” That probably sounded stupid to your unlikely companions, well, normally it isn’t that stupid if you haven’t said that every five minutes or so during this fateful encounter. “This is a mistake. You really want me to-?”

“-Yes,” he said immediately, his mother nodding alongside him. His finger glided across the rim of his scotch glass. He took it neat, of course, the Crown Prince is a man of good taste. “I can ask my people to help you move your belongings to a more dignified residence tomorrow morning.”

The empress frowned at Satoru’s backhanded comment about your way of life. “Satoru, you’re scaring her,” she whispered worriedly to her son.

“If she’s smart, sure,” Satoru hisseed under his breath. If he was going to propose to you and consequently marry you under his parents’ orders, he was going to do it his way. “Look, Ms…?” he trails off, your name escaping him.

“(Y/N),” you provided. “My name is (Y/N).”

He makes a soft ‘tch’ sound which goes unnoticed since you were too preoccupied in shaking away the haze of thoughts in your mind dimming your ability to think. He continues, “As I was saying. Ms. (Y/N),” he puts emphasis on your name, etching the loathsome sound of it into his mind. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

What did he mean by that? “Excuse me?”

“I know I said that I was just a fan when I sent you those flowers after your performance tonight but, I guess you could say I’ve become an admirer of yours.”

This was all scripted, and Satoru, despite having had a memory good enough to memorize has a good his entire family tree including the collateral branches before he even graduated from primary school, found the words getting stuck in his throat and he trailed off, his mind was filled to the brim with nothing but the face of the woman he is unwillingly betraying in the name of protecting his status.

But wasn’t this what she wanted when she threw herself at the emperor’s feet that night? She was selflessly allowing him to go through with this despite knowing that every false tender word that he says to you would be a dagger to her heart, that every moment spent with you instead of her would make her cry a river of tears.

It feels as if this entire thing was a circus he had been forced into because his crown was hanging dangerously off the edge of the tightrope above him. Forced to perform, forced to act, forced to smile so that he wouldn’t feel the sting of the whip his father, the ringleader, had in his hand. Wasn’t that something Satoru has always done? How was this any different from all the elaborate ruses he’s been ordered to perform? Gojo involuntarily looks behind his seat, craning his head back, hoping to see the familiar figure of the love of his life standing exactly a meter away from him, just as she’s always faithfully done, but that was all wishful thinking; Himiko had been removed from the duty of accompanying him tonight.

“I don’t think I’m just a fan,” he continues, turning his attention back to you, the words confessing his so-called love being uttered stoically. You stop him right there, the amount of bewilderment in your heart at a fatal maximum. His hand finds his pocket, searching for the godforsaken ring he is about to present to you. “And I—“

“—You’re just curious, Your Royal Highness,” you dismissed his so-called feelings with a shake of your head. “You’ve never been with someone outside your circle, and you’re curious about what it would be like to be involved with a commoner like me.”

When the words leave your lips, a stretch of panic washes over your face. Did you just disrespect the prince and the empress by doubting the sincerity of his words? Or did they disrespect you by treating you like a moron? Were you just supposed to believe that Prince Satoru had feelings for you? Your mind was spinning, and you were feeling a migraine aura beginning to form at your peripheral vision. You had to get out of there. Quickly moving the chair back so that you could stand up, you bow contritely to excuse yourself from the room. “Ms. (Y/N), please wait!” the empress sighs exasperatedly when you leave the private dining room of the high-class restaurant, your heels clicking against the marble floor as you hurriedly see yourself out.

Perhaps, they were being too hasty for you to say “yes”, too secretive about their true intentions. If they were to even have a chance of convincing you to marry Satoru, they have to let you in on the truth. Luckily, despite her age, the empress catches up to you just as you are about to hail a cab which was proving to be difficult since it was now past eleven o’clock and even the busy skyscraper district of Shinjuku was starting to look deserted.

“Ms. (Y/N),” she breathes, stopping just a few feet from you. “Please hear me out. I’m sorry, this was a mistake…”

“It's fine, Your Royal Highness, I know the Crown Prince doesn’t like me the way he says he does. I may not be as highly educated as you but I’m not an idiot.”

The empress looks on sadly. “Well,” she sighs, standing next to you. “I knew you would figure it out sooner or later. Still, I’m really sorry for what happened back there.”

You don’t respond for a long while, contemplating what to say; the air between you is one of awkwardness and something’s gotta give, otherwise, you and the empress would be standing in the middle of the empty street like total fools. You are the first to break, “Your Highness. Why me? And what’s this really about?”

Why on earth were you chosen over so many other women in Tokyo’s most affluent families to become Prince Satoru’s wife? You expected that this so-called dinner would be nothing more than a courtesy call to thank the prince and the empress for visiting the last night of your show. One could only imagine the emotional whiplash you felt when the prince suddenly offered for you to become his wife which was totally unexpected considering you have never spoken a word to one another before. Just what kind of a messed up Shakespearean romantic tragedy did you wind up in? This entire thing felt like a work by some deranged author who’s had one too many to drink while writing this poisoned manuscript of a love story.

“It’s exactly as the prince said,” she says succinctly. “The prince isn’t getting any younger and he’s in need of a wife. That’s what I would have told you if you were one of those shallow high society women I’ve had the displeasure of meeting.” The empress bitterly thinks about one specific girl that is so loathsome and vile that she has forcibly brought Satoru on the brink of total destruction. Last week’s fiasco with the emperor was a warning shot, and knowing her husband, there won’t be a second time.

You frown, not liking it when people are purposefully brought down to compliment another. “I’m sure that’s not true,” you mumbled, not really knowing what to say.

“But it is,” the empress insists. “People who are born with everything have this tendency to think they are above everyone else. Maybe that was what caused the prince to become this way, because his own mother was born from nothing,” she chuckled.

Knowing that the prince was the only son she will ever be blessed with, having had him at the age of forty-one, she overindulged Satoru by giving him everything, and bending to his every will. So, Satoru grew up confident that he’d only have to point at a storefront window and his mother would get it for him, otherwise he’d throw a tantrum. Maybe that’s what’s going on — all the scandals, all the controversies — was this another one of Satoru’s tantrums because they refused to allow him to have a relationship with, much less marry, his chief-of-staff?

“Nothing? I thought Your Highness, well before you married His Majesty, was an heiress to a car company. I don’t think you should lump yourself in with us.” Those who were truly born from nothing, you thought to yourself.

The empress puts a hand over her mouth as her shoulders begin to shake as she giggles. “Is that so?” she laughs, reaching into her coat pocket, in search of something. Finally, she feels the familiar feel of the trinket she keeps with her day and night.

You expected her to pull out something more valuable than a five yen coin, and it looked like it’s an old one, judging by its rough and rust-stained edges. “See this?” She carefully places the coin in her hand as if it were a precious item. “This was the first ever money I ever had to my name at only eighteen years old. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it even now,” she smiles wistfully as memories of her youth, albeit a simpler time away from the intrigue of the imperial court. She gently places the memento in your hand.

It was so light, it barely weighed a few grams yet it held so much of the empress’s heart in it, like a personal diary that has kept her company throughout the years, or perhaps it was a compass that led her to the path that resonated with her true self- the girl of only eighteen that had the look of a dreamer in her eyes, or maybe it was an anchor that served to keep her feet firmly planted on the humble ground in spite of her exalted status as the emperor’s consort.

You studied the coin. “Only five yen?” Even you, a musician whose finances are scattered to the wind, could make more than five yen in less than an hour. You were confused. Was this another one of their tricks to get you to say yes? No, it couldn’t be, seeing as how the empress seemed so genuine now, almost like the conversation you were having was like a mother and daughter having a heartfelt chat.

The empress nods. “I was a store clerk at a music shop when I was young. It was the only way I could save up and go to college. Of course, this was all before my father invented that powerhouse of an automobile when he was tinkering around with a few of the customer’s cars in the mechanic shop he ran.”

Listening intently to the empress’s story, a sense of solidarity seemed to grow between you and her. “And this was your first salary? Hard to believe music shops pay so little back then.”

“No, no. That was a tip I received from a customer when I returned her wallet. She left it in the shop and I ran after her. Of course if I were a thief, I would have taken off with it, but it was completely empty.” That caused you to laugh. Who knew that the empress who always carried herself with poise and dignity had such a deadpan sense of humor? “So, she gave me the only coin in the wallet to thank me. A five yen coin. Since then, I’ve kept this with me at all times. Call it an old lady’s sentimental ramblings, but this is what keeps me from letting all this get to my head.”

You nod in understanding. But what did this beautiful story have to do with marrying Satoru? The empress senses the question before you could even form words to ask it.

“What I’m saying is that Satoru was my outlet,” she sulked. “My second chance. So I gave him everything his little heart could ever want. And as a mother I know it was wrong of me to raise him to think he’s above everything and everyone.” She didn’t actively do that, though. Satoru just developed that toxic kind of thinking somewhere down the line. “I’m sure you’ve heard the nasty things they say about my son.”

The atmosphere suddenly turns sullen. You remembered how you watched in horror when Prince Satoru appeared on your TV screen the morning after the jubilee gala. You normally saw the prince attending royal functions such as groundbreaking and ribbon-cutting ceremonies, and while you are aware, just like everyone else in the country, that Satoru had his own share of misfits, you dismissed it as the actions of a rebellious young adult. You never thought for one second that you would see the prince battering a man until he was closer to death than a rat caught in a mousetrap outside of a shady gambling den in an unsavory district in Tokyo.

“I’m pretty sure the press is stretching the truth at times.” That was the right thing to say, you didn’t want to badmouth her son in front of her.

She scoffs humorlessly. “I’m not asking you to defend him. What I’m asking of you is to help him.” She takes your hand in hers. “Ms. (Y/N), this marriage may start out as a publicity stunt, but you could turn into something better than that.”

Maybe you’d fall in love with the prince, and maybe he could open his heart to love another again, someone who was healthier for him than Himiko. While the disbelief in your face was clear, the empress’s words give you a sense of hope but again, being excused from this narrative was what you wanted more than anything. “I think you overestimate my power, Your Highness. What you are asking of me will only end badly, I’m sure of it. It’ll be a disaster for everyone.”

Looks like there was no convincing you. A lot seems to be going on inside the empress’s head and you sympathized with her anxiety, but this was something you couldn’t do. You have been what people call a “pushover” your entire life, but the subject of your marriage is critically non-negotiable.

“I understand,” the empress is now resigned to her son’s fate. It seems, after all that song and dance in front of the emperor, it was all futile in the end. At this rate, this time tomorrow, the son of the empress’s unwilling mistress would probably be declared heir apparent and she would be powerless to stop it.

“I’m sorry, it’s just my mother taught me that marriage is sacred and that I should never mess around with it. You could have asked me for anything, Your Highness, and I would have said ‘yes’ in a heartbeat.”

“Your mother seems like a very wise woman,” the empress smiles softly. “And she’s very lucky to have you as her daughter.”

You stiffened at that. “I…I wouldn’t know if she feels that way, really.”

A wave of confusion crashes over the empress. What did you mean? “Sorry?” she clarifies. You hesitate to let her in on your own pain and you feel a slight prick of guilt poking your heart. She had been so vulnerable tonight, so open with you about her grief while you guarded yours in a titanium safe. She decides not to push the subject further and instead places a hand over yours comfortingly before turning to leave.

A thought occurs in your head and everything seems to slow down. The cars passing by the main avenue of Nishi-Shinjuku seemed to be running at 10 mph instead of the road’s minimum 20 mph. The billboards towering over you have momentarily lagged like some fatal error occurred in the LCD screen.

…This was wrong, you shouldn’t even be thinking of this.

...What would make you any different from a bloodsucking gold-digger?

…Don’t run after her.

She wouldn’t want you to do this. It would kill her if you did this. But haven’t you killed her many times before? What would make this time any different? Absolutely nothing. Your mind is made up.

…

“Your Highness, please wait.”

6:12 AM.

You didn’t know that the smell of flowers could be so vile and revolting.

Sat in the middle of a room with about a hundred bouquets of flowers from a multitude of well-wishers, at six in the morning on the day of your wedding, you gaze up at the huge mural of your new residence in the imperial palace. The pupils of your eyes followed each image on the vast painted ceiling which, compared to your tiny Tokyo apartment, felt like the entire sky altogether. Your eyes follow the image painted by Kanō Eitoku depicting life in the old seat of the imperial system, Kyoto, each blink of your eyes, you hone in on a new aspect of the mural: the mountain of Ryūgatake, the old imperial palace which you were told still existed today, the grasslands surrounding the ancient capital, and the people of Kyoto as they go about their daily lives.

If only those people could speak and were not just plastered images on a lifeless cement canvas to keep you company, maybe you won’t feel as lonely having had to wait for your wedding day to roll by without your husband-to-be by your side.

Sighing, you fall against the carpeted floor, your hands clutching a greeting card from one of your friends who gushed about how you had suddenly become a princess-to-be overnight and how you must be so happy to be engaged to such a handsome man that is prince Satoru Gojo. You hold back your tears, your fingernails digging into the vellum card.

You’ve given up calling the Imperial Household Agency to connect the line to Satoru, they come up with a different ruse each time. “Please, I need to speak to the Crown Prince,” you would sniffle into the line’s speaker desperately.

“His Royal Highness is busy right now in his office.”

“My apologies, Ms. (Y/N), but Prince Satoru is unavailable right now due to [insert name of engagement which is perfectly-timed with the wedding consultations he’s supposed to attend with you here].”

“Prince Satoru is currently away to inaugurate the new building for [insert any imperial charity foundation here].”

But you know all those so-called reasons for his absence were lies, excuses to keep their future consort from overthinking where her distant fiancé could be. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen Himiko around either, that alone should be enough to answer the lingering questions in your head about Satoru’s whereabouts. It wasn’t as if you could suddenly act like some jealous spouse when 1.) You aren’t married yet. 2.) You are the trespasser in their relationship. 3.) You are simply a bandage solution to clean up the prince’s image, someone who had unknowingly been at the right place at the right time. You are well aware of where you stand in the grand scheme of things; that kiss as you drove out of the palace compound that day should have been a good enough reminder that you will never truly be your future husband’s better half.

That title, the one you unwittingly stole from a woman you’ve never even met before, is something you can never truly call your own. You were no different than the typical other woman who would wear the legal wife’s wedding dress like some thief.

Yet how is it that you know all of these things like scripture but you still spent the entire night crying over a man who finds it physically impossible to be in the same room as you? Why did it hurt so much when you saw your fiancé shield his girlfriend from the autumn chill the same way you hoped he would shield you from the many challenging questions during that press conference? Why does it feel like a dagger had been plunged into your chest when you saw Himiko kiss Satoru so tenderly, and your husband-to-be returning the gesture with equal fervor?

You lay on your side, the velvet texture of the carpet somehow providing you some semblance of comfort. What would your retainers say when they come into this room and see the crumpled form of their future empress on the floor, her knees hugged to her chest as she tries to make sense of everything that has happened these past few days? You imagined that they’d probably think you were crazy, and Satoru would probably jeer at the thought of having a simpleton as a wife.

You were only a girl of twenty-three summers, you should be enjoying your twenties by doing the things that you love with the people you love. These sunny days of youth pass by in the blink of an eye, but in your case, you have been totally robbed of it, now being primed to become not just a princess but a wife too. While the former is certainly an intimidating role, the latter is just downright petrifying for someone as young as yourself.

Not a single soul save for the empress went to check up on you last night, the only people you were expecting to keep you company today are the hairdressers and makeup artists to prepare you for the wedding. Of course, the austere members of the Imperial Household Agency are also set to make an appearance in your chambers today probably to make you sit through another briefing session on court etiquette. You glance out the window, it was barely light out due to the winter equinox when nights are longer than daytime, and somehow that made you even more sad than you already were laying down on the floor of your room, desolately alone.

A knock at the door awakens you from your trance and you sit up, arranging your hair neatly and pulling on your shoes. Sighing, you make your way towards the door and see someone who you do not quite expect. He momentarily shifts his attenton to the battalion of attendants behind him, nodding to them. “Leave us alone.”

“Your Majesty, good morning,” your breath hitches in your throat as you hastily bow your head before the emperor who seemed to be more anxious about this day more than you, seeing as he is already dressed in his three piece suit and slacks ensemble with the Collar of the Supreme Order of the Chrysanthemum hanging between his lapels.

The emperor was an enigmatic figure who mostly kept to himself, his chamberlain and main staff often joking amongst themselves how the emperor was really a recluse who had only been born to become the sovereign ruler of a nation by an unfortunate stroke of fate. Your future father-in-law hums in acknowledgement and you are left to wonder if this is where Satoru gets his aloof nature from. “Good morning, (Y/N). May I come in?” he asks as if this entire compound wasn’t his.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

He eyes the many bouquets in the room, sighing heavily as he does, the guilt of putting you in this impossible position weighing on him. He admits that he jumped the gun when the empress offered to have Satoru marry someone who could brighten up his public image from the many blemishes it incurred during the night of the jubilee when he and Himiko were seen together, causing trouble in the casinos of the infamous Kabukichō red light district.. To have you bear the weight of becoming a lamb to the slaughter with this marriage was just downright cruel, knowing that his son will certainly make it his life’s purpose to destroy you, but what choice did he have?

It is the crown that makes the choice for him, he’s been told by his own father.

“Listen, do you have the slightest idea of what you’re about to go through?” the man whom you would call your father-in-law in just a few hours asks flatly.

Of course you do, Satoru has already given you a taste of what your marriage is going to be like. You solemnly nod “I think so,” murmuring softly, crestfallenness is evident in your voice. “Satoru has made it clear.”

The emperor purses his lips as he fumbles with a tulip that had been nestled in one of the bouquets in your chambers, “Well, it’s good that you know. I know my son and I am not here to tell you that everything you’ve seen these past couple of days will get better,” he eyes the telephone, one you haven’t even placed the phone back onto the handset in hopes that Satoru would call you. “In fact, it’s only going to get worse from here.”

You frown, crestfallen. “How so?” you asked, your hand gripping the fabric of your dress. “Are you saying that this is just the beginning?” Truthfully, you were fine with this being the beginning, only if you could have the reassurance that all this will come to an eventual end. But it seems now that this was going to be life as you know it, with a husband who gags at the sight of you and has the innate ability to treat you like you were his personal bedwarmer and doormat.

“Yes,” the emperor says gravely, a dark look crossing his features. “So if you’d like to back out now, now is your only chance. Satoru has made enough messes, a canceled wedding will barely do anything to his reputation at this point.”

He’s right; these past days have only proved that Satoru is probably granting you a way out, maybe that’s why he has done nothing else but to ignore you as a final act of mercy if you ever decide to bail. One tiny kiss on the cheek is nothing when he starts to go missing in the middle of the night to attend to his mistress’s beck and call, when he starts to bring home his mistress for dinner to actively spite you with their relationship, or when he, god forbid, starts fucking in her in your marital bed while you’re away on some royal function.

You could live a full life without him, having barely even known him save for his proclivity to emotionally torment you, but it feels wrong to just…up and leave after all that song and dance in the press opportunity.l Shaking your head, the emperor’s offer is refused insistently.

“I’m not going to give up on him, I won’t give up on our marriage before it even begins,” your eyes bore into the emperor’s own. You’ve promised yourself and the empress that you’ll see this through, if Satoru is going to make your life a living hell, then, you’ll just have to take all his blows like a champ.

“I don’t doubt your willpower, (Y/N). I’m just saying that this might be even more difficult for you than you think,” the emperor warns. “Satoru doesn’t just push back, he’ll run over people who get in his way.”

“Your Majesty, it’e alright. I’ll manage somehow.” you mumbled. “The empress and I made an agreement that if I marry Satoru, I…” you trail off, not really wanting to reveal more than you should, the emperor waits for you to continue, his eyebrows furrowed together.

What would you get if you married Satoru if not unnecessary suffering? And even then, that didn’t sound like a good deal, the emperor thinks to himself. You could have gone on happily with your life, blissfully unaware of the trials of being married to the white-haired prince, you probably would have continued climbing the career ladder before finding someone to settle down with, maybe you’ll have a few kids along the way, and Satoru would also be blissfully unaware of a certain (Y/N) (L/N) existing on this plane of reality with him.

Why were you so committed to marrying him?

“I’d be able to…” you stutter. There was no use hiding it now but maybe you could conceal the truth a little longer, if not for your sake, but for the empress — no, a grieving mother — who met you in a hotel café that night with the weight of the world on her shoulders and asked you to keep the details of this transactional union a secret. “I would…”

The emperor raises a hand to stop you, though he is mildly perturbed at your hesitance to open up to him, he decides that whatever you and his wife were keeping from him does not concern him or the throne and that it is simply a thing that should be left unsaid. He really didn’t want to pry into the details of the contract you agreed to, and since you seem to have already made up your mind, all he could do now is hope that you do not give up so easily on his son the same way he did, and that this choice to marry Satoru would not backfire on you or the imperial system in the long run.

“Stop. I understand,” the emperor nods, his shoulders seemingly slumping in defeat as he is unable to convince you to cut it and run from the horrible fate you were speeding towards at a hundred miles an hour. Maybe Satoru was right to make you out to be an idiot, the emperor frowns. “But…don’t say I didn’t warn you, and from the bottom of my heart, I wish you all the best.”

And just like that, the wedding pushes through as scheduled, having declared before the father of the groom that you weren’t one to give up so easily, or…maybe it’s just your blind optimism talking.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” you settle into an ornate curtsy, your foot gracefully tucked behind the other, your hand postured in a cordial handshake with His Majesty. The emperor’s pupils dilate, his mouth runs dry and he feels like something in his body had momentarily stopped working or had broken entirely — he knows that trademark act of obeisance so well — you’ve perfectly captured the image of a younger version of his wife who had perfected royal protocol in just under a year when they got married. She must have sought to teach you everything she knew or rather she was forced to learn by herself when she was in your position in an act of true esprit de corps. And for a moment, he finds himself surrendering to your doe-eyed but unmistakably poised charm, and he starts to become more convinced that you were a worthy future daughter-in-law.

He shakes his head, swiftly snapping him out of his trance, now was not the time for these things. The emperor nods back to return the gesture before turning to leave, just as your attendants are about to arrive to get you ready for the ceremony. “We’ll see you in the cathedral, then, (Y/N).”

But as soon as he is halfway out the door, he turns back to look at you one last time as (Y/N) (L/N), for the next time he will see you, you will then be (Y/N) Gojo, his first daughter-in-law, the first royal bride in centuries who neither hails from a family of politicians nor influential persons alike, the icon of a new chapter for the imperial family.

He sighs, turning back around to face you, having almost forgotten the task he’d been entrusted with by his wife. “I almost forgot. Ijichi,” he calls to his faithful grand steward who is waiting outside your chambers to bring forth a rather special gift he and the empress intended to present to you after the ceremony but he figured now might be a good time. The tall, lanky and sickly-looking spectacled man known as Ijichi bows before you which leaves a strange feeling festering within you, he was carrying a navy blue felt case that seemed so valuable that he had been compelled to wear gloves to prevent his bare hands from touching the fine fabric.

The emperor motions to open the case and your face pales when you see what is inside. “This is intended to be worn by the Princess Royal on her wedding day but since I don’t have a daughter to give that title to, the title will now belong to you.”

The tiara in his hands is a hefty thing, molded entirely from the most of valuable of silvers, it resembled the Queen Mary Fringe Tiara that had been worn by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II on her wedding day, with an abundance of baton diamonds dotting every conceivable nook and cranny. It takes some time for you to adjust when it is placed upon your head, it only weighed a modest 1.7 kilograms, it was much lighter than the many tiaras the family keeps hidden away in the imperial vaults but for someone like you, it is an awfully heavy thing not just in the literal sense but also in the figurative side of things.

As of this moment, you weren’t just an ordinarily forgettable face in a crowd anymore.

“Carry the weight.” The emperor’s voice is commandeering. He steps back, scanning how the tiara looks on you from afar and though it looked awkwardly placed on your head with how you are struggling to balance its weight, you still managed to carry it adequately. “Now…you’re one of us.”

8:55 AM.

“Need some help?”

Satoru looks up to inspect the reflection on the mirror and a sad smile crosses his face when he sees the familiar figure of Himiko leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest as she gazes at her beloved getting ready for his wedding day. “You don’t have to be here.” He begrudgingly fumbles with his collar, unable to meet her eyes. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” he professes, despite having immeasurably hurt you these past couple of days instead.

Himiko shakes her head. There was no use in grumbling about it now when just on the other side of the palace, Satoru’s unworthy bride-to-be was being pampered by her many ladies with manicures, foot massages, and practically anything to make you happy while she, the prince’s true love, was condemned to watch him be cruelly given away to someone else. There was a sense of finality with how hundreds of palace staff rushed through the hallways carrying all sorts of wedding paraphernalia to decorate the Chowaden reception hall and the courtyard to welcome the wedding guests.

Satoru frowns when her hands find his collar, she skillfully untangles the ribbon medal and readjusts the silver emerald-studded necklace that came with it.

Please…just one more minute…one more minute with you, Satoru closes his eyes as Himiko’s thumbs tentatively rub his chiseled cheek as if she were memorizing every bump and every curve of his skin before someone else tries to claim that they know every bit of Satoru inside and out. She knows it will never be true, no one can ever know Satoru the way she intimately knows him, not even if he was going to marry another woman. It may be possible for you steal everything from her — the emperor and empress’s favor, the public’s warm approval, the ring that had been fitted to accommodate the size of her finger before it was given to you — it may have been easy for you to pull the rug from underneath her, but it would be difficult — no, impossible — for you to ever claim ownership of Satoru.

He was hers and she was his, Satoru leans against Himiko’s touch, sighing woefully. “I’ll make her pay, I promise. I’ll break her, destroy her again. And again. And again until nothing’s left of her,” he recites the promise, punctuating the words with a kiss every time, as if they were having an illicit wedding of their own, and his words were a marriage vow — the only one that he will honor with every fiber of his being. Himiko bites her lower lip before she slowly nods, appeased.

“But Satoru, marrying her is the only way for you to be restored as heir apparent. Either way, we can’t win without doing this your father’s way.” Her hands leave his collar and she sadly gazes out the window, her narrow eyes glazing over the ancient ginkgo tree at the center of the palace’s vast atrium which was now shedding their green leaves to take on the tell-tale yellow hue as autumn draws near. She always loved the view of the palace courtyard from above, especially in this room where she and Satoru spent many nights proving their love for one another.

Gojo frowns at her melancholia, he comes up from behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’ll think of something, I promise this won’t last longer than it needs to,” he kisses her cheek, nuzzling it with his nose tenderly.

“I don’t mind waiting, Satoru, I’d wait for you forever, and as much as we both hate her, we need (Y/N),” she spits out your name as if it were rat poison in her mouth. “So, let’s just play along. It’s not like we’re not used to meeting in deserted parking lots at midnight, right?” She offers him a half-smile, reminding Satoru that their entire affair has always been illicit in nature.

It’s not like she was accepted by his parents to be their son’s future consort. They’ve been through this before, hundreds of times rather, even before you came along. They’ve had to deal with so many forces ripping them apart over the past three years from the oh-so-omnipotent emperor who hardly wields any political power to his neurotic wife whom she has called, on several occasions, a bitch.

And yet, together they remained as it has always been, with Satoru cradling Himiko in his arms as he peppers kisses up her neck, sucking at the soft flesh, his hips flush against hers. He does this in front of the window for any unfortunate passerby to see. Hell, Satoru was hoping you’d walk by and see this heartbreaking display and maybe you’ll just run home in your wedding dress with your tail between your legs.

“We don’t have to get used to it, Himiko,” he mumbles into her neck, inhaling her sweet perfume, the one he liked the most. “One day, we won’t have to hide anymore,” he kisses her cheek tenderly, caressing the bone of her wrists which still bore faint marks from the handcuffs that had been wrongfully placed on her with his thumb. “And people can say whatever they want about us, and it wouldn’t matter because I will have been the emperor by then and you, my empress.” He presses their foreheads together, the tips of their noses barely touching in a moment of silence.

After a long while, Satoru lets go of Himiko, his eyes scanning hers as if he were searching for answers hidden deep within her soul. “What is it?”

“I just wish you hadn’t stepped in back there.” It was a thought that kept him awake these past agonizing nights. “Maybe if you just stayed out of my father’s office, this wouldn’t have happened. I was alright with you visiting me in my jail cell, you know.”

“As if I’d ever let that happen,” she sighs when he pulls away to fasten his cufflinks, suddenly feeling a bit disheartened at the loss of his touch. She kisses his cheek, looking at his reflection through the mirror, her eyes alight with adoration. “I promised I’d always be your ally, didn’t I?”

When she and Satoru first met three years ago in the selection for his chief-of-staff, Himiko Zenin, despite coming from the affluent Zenin clan, lagged behind compared to her contenders who aced the exams that tested their knowledge on the law, constitution, history of the imperial system, royal protocol, foreign languages and other aspects that may prove useful for the prince’s right hand. But there was one thing that she had that all the other applicants didn’t have, and she demonstrated that perfectly when Satoru unexpectedly dropped by during the final interviews to speak to each of the candidates himself.

Satoru stared at Himiko with a bored expression that day, his being devoid of any emotion. “Ms. Zenin, it seems you did poorly in all of the exams,” he glances at her file which should have been tossed in the bin by the time she placed last in the jurisprudence exam. “And you’re affiliated with one of the more morally ambiguous families in the country. Looks like today’s just not your day, huh?”

It was true. Having Himiko Zenin as his chief of staff was dangerous from the get-go. The Zenin clan’s head back then during the time of the selection was on trial for graft and corruption. But, there was something Himiko had that all the other applicants did not. At the time, he couldn’t quite put a finger on it but now, after years of selfless service to him, Satoru realizes that it was the ferocious loyalty that hid underneath her then perfectly ordinary shell which he personally refined into the gem of a woman she is now, and she never swore allegiance to the crown but rather to him, Satoru Gojo.

“But, I’ll indulge you,” he reclined against his chair that day, his arms crossed. “Why should I even consider you as my chief of staff? What can you offer me that the others before you cannot?”

Her answer to that question instantly won him over and in that instant, Himiko’s life had changed forever. “Whatever you ask of me, Your Royal Highness, I’d give my very life for you.”

Satoru turns away from the mirror, his lips instantly on hers. His hand dangerously hovered over the hem of her dress. “S-Satoru, what are you doing?” she moans into his mouth as Satoru moves both of them to the bed, he climbs atop of her as she lay on the mattress, her locks splayed over the silk sheets. She knows what he’s doing, this was almost like a film she has seen many times before; this was how tense conversations with Gojo go with him impatiently parting her legs, their hands desperately discarding their clothes until they are left utterly bare before one another.

He wanted to destroy you the same way you destroyed what he had with Himiko. This anger translated into his rough pace. He roughly jostles his hips against Himiko’s, her arms wrapping around him as he buries his cock inside her, his lips covering her milky flesh with dark-purplish bruises, marking her as his.

Call him a sadist but he hopes that Himiko would change into a dress that could flaunt her marked skin so that when you fearfully look around the cathedral, warily searching for her, your heart would break at the sight of the countless hickeys on her neck and collar. He wanted to see you cry the first of the many tears you will shed for the crime of marrying him.

“Satoru…!” she cries out as the luscious feeling of his girth pistoning in and out of her. He grunts as he feels him inch closer and closer to his high. “Mmph—‘Toru,” she whines when he reangles his hips, plunging deeper into her, his arms locking behind hers as he violently chases his release. He’s so close. “I love you, I love you…-a-ah!”

A symphony of pleasured groans falls from his lips, his very being uncoiling as he cums. His hips involuntarily keep thrusting as hot spurts of his cum drips down Himiko’s entrance, mixing with her own release. Himiko frowns as Satoru clicks his tongue at the soiled sheets beneath their connected forms. He groans as he pulls out, sinking into the warmth of her embrace, his still hardened cock poking her inner thigh. “Promise me you’ll only love me?” she whispers as her fingers absentmindedly play with his white hair.

“I promise,” Gojo murmurs into the crook of her neck as he lulled to sleep by her soft, even breaths. “I promise it’s only you…no one else.”

11:45 AM.

Only half an hour left. A crowd of, from what you have heard, 70,000 have gathered on the strip of the main road that the bridal car will pass en route to the cathedral.

“It’s true,” your maid of honor who people refer to as Ieiri says, showing you her phone which showed the many tweets from news agencies, famous personalities and normal people alike about how excited they were to witness your wedding day. There were countless social media posts consisting of yours and Satoru’s official engagement picture and many have taken to hosting their own live-streaming sessions of this monumental day.

“Everyone’s so excited. I wish my wedding would be this big,” one of your bridesmaids sighs dreamily. You manage a small chuckle at her, maybe if she knew of your plight right now, she would probably be eating those words alongside the many petit fours she’s been munching on this past hour. “Look at all those people,” she continues scrolling through her phone.

“It’s the first televised imperial wedding so obviously, it’s a big deal, Riko,” Utahime laughs. “Not to mention, it’s the first time a member of the imperial family would be married in a Western-themed ceremony.” For everyone to see.

One of your newly appointed helpers enters the room, and jogs over to you as quickly as she can in her heels, she has a small jewelry box delicately decorated in an ecru gift wrapper in her hand. “Ms. (Y/N), this is from the prince. His butler told me to give this to you.” You’ve been sad all day and your ladies-in-waiting heave a sigh of relief when they see a hint of a smile on your face, even if it did hold a bit of apprehension.

“Really? For me?” You stand up to accept the small token, careful not to ruffle your wedding dress too much as per the dressmaker’s instructions since the fabric used to construct the piece was susceptible to crumpling. Momentarily setting your phone down on the vanity table mid-text, you graciously accept the wedding gift. Maybe Satoru was starting to warm up to you and that he is now chipping away at the wall he built between the two of you. You hoped that by sending you this gift, this would be the start of something new and better with your husband.

But given how things are, that would be impossible. This was probably just a gift he sent to appease you after many days of effectively acting like you don’t exist.

You open the box and your ladies chatter around you excitedly. “It’s so pretty!” the youngest of your bridesmaids, the daughter of the Japanese ambassador to France apparently, marvels at the pair of earrings. Briefly smiling at her, you then turn your attention to the small letter that was neatly slotted between the groove of the box’s padded interior that held the earrings in place. His handwriting was so conscientiously beautiful that it almost looked like a computer-generated font, there wasn’t a hint of clumsiness in each stroke.

“To (Y/N),

I’m sorry about these past few days. This won’t make up for it, but, I’d like to join you in wishing for a successful marriage together.

– HRH Satoru Gojo”

Your heart slows at the cold closing. He had omitted the words “love” and “sincerely” before his name, but you expected that. If scraps of affection are all you could ever hope to get out of him, you have to learn to deal with it sooner or later; this was your life now, you will always be second to the love of his life. It must have taken everything out of him, and it must have caused an argument to erupt between him and Himiko, to send you this and you understand that he’s also having a difficult time with how things are now but it mattered so much to you to see him try. Regardless if this gift was given to you freely or not, you couldn’t refuse it, even if every voice in your head was screaming at you, reminding you of the horrific scene you saw that day when you caught your fiancé kissing another woman out in the open immediately after you announced your engagement.

“Would you like me to put it on you?” Riko asks. “I’m sure the prince will be happy to see you wear these.”

“You really think so?” you wince when your helper struggles to find your earlobe piercing. “I didn’t know he could be so sweet.” That’s obviously a lie; you know full well Satoru could be sweet, it just pained you to remember that he’s capable being sweet to another deliberately causing you immense grief. Your helper stiffens slightly. She has seen him become sweet before, albeit to another, but she didn’t have to divulge any details and accidentally ruin your wedding day.

She nods shyly, succeeding with the first diamond earring and then the other. She steps away from the mirror. You looked radiant. “Y-yes.”

Noticing her discomfort, you expertly steer the conversation elsewhere. “I see. Well I should probably return the favor.”

You’ve gotten Satoru a wristwatch you and the empress had personally had commissioned by a famed watchmaker that could rival the craftsmanship of a Rolex. It just arrived last night and well, given your current mental state then having taken the brunt of Satoru’s ire the past few days, you couldn’t bring yourself to wrap it. Momentarily deciding if you still had time to have one of your helpers buy some wrapping paper, you realized it would be cutting it too close so you hastily scribbled on a blank dedication card you randomly plucked from one of the bouquets you received. Luckily, some of them had extra cards.

“To Your Royal Highness,

Please don’t apologize, I’m sorry too for being pushy lately. Thank you for the gift, I’ll be sure to take good care of it. Happy wedding day, and I’m looking forward to better days together!

Wholeheartedly yours,

(Y/N) (L/N)”

Reading through it one last time, you affix your name at the end. “You guys are so sweet,” your youngest bridesmaid gushes as she presses a button on the room’s telephone to request for a butler. “I’m sure the prince will love it.”

“Whatever ‘sweet’ means.” You grimace, your unease getting the better of you. A few moments later, a butler peeks into the room. You bound over to him, placing the present in his hands. “Could you please give this to Prince Satoru?” you asked him and the butler looks slightly bewildered at your choice of words. If it was an order, you could have just said so. Perhaps you were still getting used to the idea of having people waiting to attend to your every beck and call.

“Right away, ma’am,” the butler replies obediently nonetheless. “Also I ran into His Majesty’s chamberlain just a while back and he asked me to remind you of the time. Everything’s ready,” he informs you just as he turns to leave in the direction of the palace’s east wing where Satoru's private chambers are. Upon hearing that, the bridal entourage starts to get ready to leave ahead of you, they’ll be going to the venue with a separate convoy from the bride’s since you’ll be driving through some of Tokyo’s major avenues en route to the cathedral.

You watch as they file out of the room in their cream dresses, each one of them, despite having known you for only a little less than half a day, pull you into a bone-crushing hug wishing you well. “Congratulations, (Y/N).”

“Thank you,” you kindly smiled at each one of them as they left.

When you are left alone to your devices, you take one last look at (though you could hardly recognize yourself) the mirror, swallowing harshly, your hand absentmindedly playing with the locket which you continued to wear, ignoring the gracious advice of the Imperial Household Agency’s grand steward to set it aside for today’s festivities as it was uncustomary for royal brides to wear articles of clothing and accessories that did not hold any relation to the imperial family.

Only thirty minutes to go ‘till everything changes. Wait no, that was grossly inaccurate. Everything changed the split second you laid your eyes on him. Since then, everything seems to be a jumbled haze like some sort of psychedelic trance that just won’t end. Reaching for your phone one last time, you hastily search for a particular contact number, your finger hovering over the call button. No, there’s no point, you sniffle softly. Calling her would only make things harder than it already is and backing out of this now is out of the question.

Another knock is heard on the door, but it isn’t as insistent as the first few ones as everyone was starting to get a bit frustrated at you. Did they think you were stalling for time? “Just a minute,” your voice wavers. You just received a new text message from the number you were planning to call.

“We’ll be moving her in a few hours. Will send you her new room number when we get there.”

Bringing the phone to your lips, your heart makes somersaults in your chest when you receive the news. The sacrifice you were still yet to make has already paid off and your ledger of personal favors crossed out with a red marker effectively completing your transaction with the empress. Without even giving you time to text a quick “thank you”, another urgent knock is heard on the door. “Ms. (Y/N), I’m very sorry to interrupt but, we should get going now.”

“I’ll be right there,” you said again, quickly typing another message on your phone: “I wish I was there with her. Please hold her hand for me.” The second it goes through, you quickly shuffled towards the door, your head bowed in apology. You hold your breath as you balance the tiara on your head hoping that it won’t fall as it hangs precariously off-center on the crown of your head, your eyes trained on the ground as the door slides open. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries, I’m pretty patient. Ijichi, on the other hand? Not so much.”

His voice is feather-soft and melodious like a harp string being plucked delicately so that it produces a clear and deep bell-like sound, the very language he chooses to speak with is devoid of neither a shrill nor sharp word unlike the fusillade of orders you’ve been mercilessly bombarded with this entire day. Walk like this, speak like that, don’t do this, and most certainly never do that, you must have gone through a decade’s worth of rules and regulations to follow during the ceremony and even after you’ve said your “I do”’s. Still, you found solace knowing that Satoru is slowly warming up to the idea of cooperating with you, and has even found it in his heart to give you an olive branch of sorts which was now hooped through your earlobes, sparkling under the light like a clear drop of water from the sky.

At first, you naively think it’s him. Did Satoru really come over to see you? While that seemed uncharacteristic of him, the very thought of him voluntarily visiting you planted a sense of relief in you regardless. Maybe he wanted to settle things before the ceremony, to be upfront with you about his intentions in this marriage, how the two of you will be towards one another going forward, and if your luck holds out, maybe he’d finally let you in on his acts of impropriety with Himiko.

But, you would recognize Satoru’s indifferent timbre anywhere, this voice was far too different and seemed much kinder and softer than your fiancé’s.

You slowly open the door to greet your guest, confirming your suspicions as you meet the gaze of a man you haven’t met before. He seems severely unfamiliar.

No, wait. That can’t be it, he may seem unfamiliar but he’s definitely recognizable. In fact, you’ve seen him a few times before, standing feebly next to your fiance during the emperor’s birthday broadcast. Then, it clicks. Wasn't this…?

“Crown Prince Suguru?” you blinked. He’s the only senior member of the imperial family that you’ve never been officially introduced to. Of course, you are on speaking terms with the emperor, the empress and of course, Satoru, but never the prince that idly lingered in their large shadows.

The raven-haired man chuckles deeply at your shocked expression. Clearly, you didn’t expect to meet him under these circumstances, and that caused you to accidentally refer to him as the Crown Prince when that title only belonged to Gojo. He looks at you endearingly, finding you intriguing.

So this was the woman his younger brother is to be married to. Suguru has heard a lot about Satoru’s docile bride-to-be, in fact, he received news of the engagement while he was in Rome, the last leg of his first solo tour in Europe. People were so quick to label it as a pivotal point in the history of the Japanese monarchy and that you are the symbol of change, specifically, they likened you to a camellia blooming in a sea of chrysanths, a breath of spring in the imperial family’s everwinter – alluring in every sense of the word. But, alluring isn’t exactly a word he’d use to describe you seeing as you’ve only just met but, right now, he found you to be so adorably cute that he might just start to believe the things they say about you on the news.

“It’s just Prince Suguru. Satoru’s the Crown Prince.” The gentle correction makes you so flustered that you feel blood rush up to your ears, a tell-tale sign of your abasement. “But you could just call me Suguru.”

“Oh, right, my mistake,” you rub your eyelid, growing embarrassed. “Prince Suguru,” you stressed his correct title, remedying your earlier mishap. Despite you being in heels, you can’t see past him, given that he towered over you so easily so you stand on your tallest tiptoes, trying to peek over his shoulder. “You haven’t happened to see Mr. Ijichi, have you? He was right outside the door a few minutes ago.”

Suguru buries his hands in his pockets. “He just left, you’re welcome,” he winks at you, having sent Ijichi on his way when he accidentally stumbled across him furiously tapping on your door as he was making his way to his car.

Ijichi was…difficult to get along with — he’s short-fused, demanding at some times, and he is what people could call a stickler for the rules — Suguru isn’t doesn’t really want to say nasty words about his father’s grand steward and he’d give credit where it’s due since Ijichi is not just efficient when it comes to running the imperial household but he is also fiercely dedicated to every member of the imperial family.

Still, he couldn’t count the many times Ijichi had to scold him for all the mischief he caused while he was growing up even if his life depended on it. The worst scolding he got from the older man was when Suguru went missing on his fifth birthday, having snuck out of the banquet hall with at least ten pieces of bread stuffed in his pockets with every intention to feed them to the many ducks in the imperial garden’s ponds.

“What?” your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, you were going to get an earful later. “You mean he went ahead without me?”

“It’s alright. You’ll see him later, sure he’s probably going to talk your ear off but he means well, trust me,” Suguru flashes you a reassuring smile.

You look at him, your lip curled into an uneasy grin. “That doesn’t sound like fun,” you bemoaned, having had enough reprimands to last you until your next life. “So, with Mr. Ijichi gone, forgive my bluntness, but am I right to assume that Your Highness will be the one to bring me to the cathedral?”

Suguru accommodatingly holds out his arm for you to hold onto. “You assume correctly,” he says warmly. You expect him to hurriedly lead you down the steps leading to the palace’s main driveway, but he does something entirely different. “Are you ready to go or do you still need more time?”

That was the first time anyone in a kilometer-wide radius has asked you what you want to do instead of telling you what to do.

Suguru watches every small change in your expression. He figured that you must be pretty tired of people treating you like some robot, training you to blindly obey every order perfectly. The jet black-haired prince has only known you for two minutes and his heart is already disintegrating for your current predicament of feeling completely and entirely alone. If he could alleviate your troubles even with just a small act of kindness by engaging in polite conversation with you and actually listening to what you have to say instead of talking over you like most of your etiquette coaches have done all day, then, he’ll gladly tune in to listen to you even as you read through an entire book of sonnets if you ever felt up to it.

Being validated comes a long way, and if anyone understands your plight, it was him and even if he didn’t understand, he’ll do everything he can to try regardless.

“I-I’m ready,” you nodded hesitantly and Suguru doesn’t walk ahead right away and allows you to set the pace as you walk past the line of attendants that bowed to you and the prince as you made your way to the imperial family’s very own Toyota Century convertible which had been custom-made for you.

The open top roof gave onlookers access to see their future empress as the motorcade departs from the Kōkyo Imperial Palace and follows a 4.6-kilometer route that will travel to the St. Mary’s Cathedral, the seat of the Roman Catholic archdiocese of Tokyo. Neither you nor Satoru were practicing Catholics yet, the imperial family has decided that a Christian-themed wedding rather than the ancient Buddhist matrimonial ceremony that is usually done away from public view would make the imperial system appear more accessible to the people.

Suguru helps you into the car, gently arranging the train of your gown so that it doesn’t get all wrinkled. “Thank you, Your Highness” you whisper to Suguru who squeezes your free hand as if to say “you’re welcome”. The car’s engine hums to life the minute the two of you are settled in the backseat. “W-what am I supposed to do now?” you asked, readjusting your grip on your bridal bouquet.

The prince lets out a humored snort, having forgotten that this was your first official function. Showing you the correct way to wave and the right angle to face and bow to the crowd, he watches you closely, allowing you to struggle for a bit before stepping in to help with some encouraging words. “Just keep smiling and waving. It’s just like being onstage, you know.” At the center of the motorcade, six police cars patrol every side of the convertible forming a ring of protection just in case someone in the crowd with ill-intentions would try to harm either you or the monarch next to you.

Countless people erupt in happy cheers at the sight of you and Suguru, some are simply content with waving while others are holding up flowers and tossing them to the front of the crowd barriers in jubilation. “It feels a little more intense than just being onstage,” you mumbled, your eyes landing on a little girl sitting in her mother’s arms as she waves a little Japanese flag in her hand which looked like she made it in her arts and craft class. You awkwardly wave at her, chuckling when she happily waves back, delighted to see you directly looking at her.

“Well, you’re doing great.” He inches closer to you, wrapping a steadying arm around your waist while the other guides your hand, gently angling it in a more prominent position so that you look a little more assertive. “Like this,” Suguru helps you wave in a more continuous manner, teaching you to center the motion by keeping your elbow mostly stationary and allowing only your wrist to subtly move from side to side. “And keep doing what you’re doing. Make eye contact with them; make them understand that you see each and every one of them.”

Suguru watches you bow and wave to the spectators with a proud smile on his face; the motorcade has now reached the Shinjuku area and is nearing its destination of Bunkyo-ku where the cathedral is and even still, the crowd doesn’t appear to thin out. Suguru feels like he’s watching history unfold before his very eyes. He wonders if Satoru had purposefully chosen a commoner to conjure up a classic “love conquers all” romance of his own wedding day, if he did, then Suguru must congratulate him for a job well done. No one has ever come out to see a member of the imperial family in this sheer number, he daresay, not even the empress on her wedding day or His Majesty on his coronation day.

But with you, this day is nothing short of a revolution.

“Your Highness, you’re staring.” Suguru hums, confused, before realizing that he’s been looking at you funny. “You’re still staring,” you said succinctly.

“Oh, sorry.” Suguru says awkwardly and you couldn’t help but let out a slight snort. “What?” he cocks his head in your direction. You were laughing, though brief, the very sound of it brings a smile to his face. “It was about time though. We’ve been in this car for more than fifteen minutes now and that right there is the first genuine act of happiness I’ve seen you make,” he remarks. He was starting to think that you were incapable of smiling which he found a little unsettling since brides aren’t exactly despondent during their wedding day. Of course, what would he know? His little brother had gotten married ahead of him.

You crinkle your nose in mock displeasure. “That’s kinda mean and probably the last thing I’d say to someone I just met…with all due respect, Your Highness.”

Suguru grins at your tiny jab at his character, and to think that he nearly bought into the whole “as demure as a butterfly” thing they said about you in the papers. Make no mistake though, he sees how elegantly ladylike you are, but he also sees how you are so effortlessly spellbinding with your wit translated into a few short but sweet words. No wonder Satoru fell for you and even gave up his vice-like romance with his chief-of-staff to marry you, he thinks to himself. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry that was a bit uncalled for.”

“Oh— Your Highness, I was just joking.” You waved to the crowd of people on Suguru’s side of the car, grimacing when you see a few schoolboys, probably university students with how tall and mature they looked, pretend to blow you kisses. Indulging them, you subtly return the gesture flustered beyond all measure. Everything feels so public now, and you are left wondering about how you could survive the rest of your life like this.

“…I knew that.” Choosing momentary silence, Suguru finally decides to chip away at the facade you were putting up. He could see it in your eyes, you were a cross between scared and unhappy which is clearly normal for someone who is marrying into the oldest monarchy in the world. You weren’t at all what the members of the Imperial Household Agency said of you when you were out of earshot: a sorry excuse of a future empress who is privileged in every way but can’t find it within herself to stop her endless complaining. “Just trying to make you smile, that’s all.”

Shouldn’t your future husband be doing that? You sighed. Oh right, he was probably busy comforting Himiko. She probably needed him now more than ever after everything you’ve done to torment her. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Suguru,” he corrects kindly. “If you’re going to marry my little brother, you could, at least, drop the troublesome title when you’re talking to me.”

Little brother? How have you never heard of this before? You knew Satoru had a brother, but you never thought Suguru would be the older one out of the two of them. If that was the case, then, why didn’t he get the title of “Crown Prince”?

“Weird, huh?” He breaks you out of your trance, as if he heard the question swirling around in your head. “Why is Satoru the Crown Prince and not me?”

“Are you psychic or something?” you playfully teased, slowly growing more comfortable with the jet black-haired prince that sported an Apollo-like smile - warm, and inviting. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

Suguru shrugs. “Why? Whose mind do you want to read?”

Satoru’s, you smiled sadly. Maybe by unraveling the inner machinations of your soon-to-be husband’s mind, you could learn to meet him halfway by understanding him a little better; no person is born inherently cruel and while you had your doubts, you know, in your heart, that Satoru is no exception to that rule. “No one in particular.”

“Ah, well, I expected that.” He grinned at how guarded you are, reclining against the plush seat of the car to rest his stiffening back for a minute. The convoy is about ten minutes away from the cathedral now.

You offered him some consolation though, grateful for this light-hearted chat. “Let’s just trade answers next time.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

Himiko thought this day would be horrible but it turns out it isn’t as bad as she pessimistically thought. If she only knew that this was how the love of her life’s wedding would go with him still inviting her to his bed before he gets hitched off, then, maybe she shouldn’t have been so awful towards you who never stood a chance against her. Competing with you would be like making a rival of a rat; it would be unnecessary trouble. Still, even if she had all but won against you (as if you were worthy enough to even become her opponent), that didn’t stop the Zenin clan’s little darling from causing a little trouble today.

Her eyes flutter open to reveal Gojo’s handsome slumbering face, utterly spent from their lovemaking session, their naked forms still entangled together under the cotton-percale sheets. She stretches her supple body luxuriously, and pulls away from Satoru’s embrace earning a small “mmph” of disapproval from her lover. Giggling, she plants a soft kiss on his chiseled cheek.

“Your Highness?” Someone says from behind the door. Taking one last look at Satoru’s sleeping form, she walks leisurely to answer it, clad only in the prince’s shirt which ran above her knee.

Leaning against the door, she answers for the prince, a detestable act similar to a cardinal sin. It was forbidden for a mere servant to speak for any member of the imperial family. In the past, in the Japanese empire’s golden age, a servant who took the words out of their master’s mouth would have their tongue swiftly sliced off. But Himiko is not a servant, nor is she subject to the rules as long as the prince was around. “His Highness is asleep.”

On his wedding day? The butler nods stiffly. “I see. Ms. Zenin, can I trouble you with this? The prince’s fiancé has sent him a wedding gift.”

Himiko doesn’t answer for a long while and a tense silence fills the room. “Fine, but have you done what I asked?” she relents opening the door, the butler’s face turns red at the sight of her lack of modesty. “Having you run my errands isn’t cheap, you know.”

The attendant bows his head, “Yes. She’s currently wearing it right now, last I saw.”

“Good. I’ll be taking this then.” She shakes the box to get a feel of what’s inside, not that it would be anything of high value though given its cheap sender.

Curiosity gets the better of her and she succinctly opens the gift, her eyebrow quirked. A watch. Very typical. She notes how it’s made out of silver and she scoffs harshly. Even if she didn’t chuck it into the trash, Satoru would have done it himself since he prefers gold pieces over silver and he most certainly wouldn’t want to touch anything that was from you given how he loathed the very idea of you.

The attendant gulps when he sees Himiko harshly discard your gift. “Ms. Zenin, don’t you think that giving her that would be taking it too far? You know how the Crown Prince feels about those earrings. If he ever were to find out that it had gone missing…”

She turns her head in the direction of the bed where Gojo was currently tossing and turning in his sleep. “Then, I’ll tell His Highness that his chief butler,” her eyes were aglow with cunning as the butler trembled slightly at her murderous gaze. “Is a thief who stole from the imperial vaults, and if you ever decide to rat me out, who do you think the prince will believe? A nameless no account like you or me?”

It slowly registers in the attendant’s mind that he had been utterly played when Himiko asked him to give those earrings to you via an under the table agreement, it’s not like Satoru prepared a wedding gift for you anyway thinking that showing up to the accursed wedding in itself is a generous gift already. “…You used me…!” he whispers angrily, not wanting to rouse the prince.

Himiko shrugs nonchalantly. “And you were stupid enough to be used for a few banknotes. Now get lost, I’ll just inform His Highness of your voluntary resignation tomorrow morning.”

She closes the door on the rattled servant and saunters back over to the bed, slipping back under the sheets. Satoru sleepily notices the bed dip with her weight, and unconsciously snuggles closer to her, his arms wrapped around her form. She lovingly strokes his disheveled hair alternating between twirling his locks in her index finger and massaging his scalp as if she hadn’t just ruined a man’s life two minutes ago. Her hands reach for the phone on the nightstand and she scrolls through her feed watching a video of the bridal car pulling up to the cathedral.

She boredly watches you step out of the car with your hand looped through Suguru’s arm shyly waving to the thousands happily anticipating this glorious day while your bridesmaids help you with your wedding gown’s train so it doesn’t snag across the concrete steps. It takes about five minutes for the cathedral’s towering doors to open and she smirks when she sees you slowly make your way inside, completely oblivious to the fact that your groom is not at the end of the aisle where you expected him to be and is instead still soundly asleep next to her.

The silence that follows is indicative of the horrific scene that greeted you and Himiko switches off her phone, settling back into the pillows contentedly. Serves you right, (Y/N), she smirks.

12:30 PM.

Funny how you think that you’re immune to awful things that happen to other people…before it happens to you. There’ve been hundreds of stories like this before, but you never thought that you’d find yourself in the long list of unfortunate jilted brides. Your hands tremble as you hold your bouquet of white calla lilies and baby’s breaths. Surely you must have gone blind or something or this was all some sick dream, you desperately search the cathedral room with abject horror in your eyes. It couldn’t be…you take an uneasy step toward the witness as your wedding guests whisper amongst themselves, their hearts filled to the brim with condolences for you.

Something in you jeeringly mocks you as if to chide you for living too long in the forest of your fantasy, dodging every pocket of reality’s sunlight as it shines through the many trees you’ve cultivated with your delusions that this…whatever the hell this is…could miraculously work out in the end. That you stood a chance against all the cards that were catastrophically stacked against you, and that he could give you even just a scintilla of respect if it was truly impossible for him to ever learn to love you.

“Suguru,” you instinctively clutch his hand as if by him squeezing your hand back, you could miraculously be put together again. You were so heartbroken that you didn't even realize that you just called him by his name, forgoing the mention of his venerable title. “…I-I…” you gulp as you feel the dreaded words lodge deep in your throat, clogging your airways with uncried sobs.

“Oh, (Y/N), I’m so sorry…”

“…Where’s Satoru?”

water’s edge taglist: @dummyf @kentokaze @esthelily @mandysfanfics @userbananababes @strawberryjimin13 @snowprincesa1 @naturallyspontaneous @kooromin @gojoist @dcvilxswish @13-09-01 @peachipeachy @iluv-ace @sawendel @helloitsshitzulover @jjuniescuderia @ackermendick @starrylibras @timetobegone @heelariously @idktbhloley @jeon-blue @8aif9sgbsnn @purpleguk @rednezvous @yeseurri @floralsightings @yoheyyosup @dontwannacry04 @dragonladyy

REBLOGS AND INTERACTIONS IS WHAT KEEPS AUTHORS GOING SO SHOW SOME LOVE ✨💕 mwah! see you all in episode 2.5!

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sunnebeam · 8 months

Text

flashback: when you first met.

A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' EXTRA.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.

warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, blood

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: in case u didn't know, i'm still currently on my aug-oct vacation (see details in pinned post!) and this post was scheduled in advance :> anyways this flashback is really short (mostly bc i was running out of time when writing it) but i hope u still enjoy it. as always, leave ur thoughts <3

You're walking home, having just got off the bus.

There's a spring in your step, mainly because you just had a job interview a few hours earlier and you think you got it in the bag. You're thinking about dropping by the convenience store for some celebratory food when you hear a strangled noise from the nearby alley.

Against your better judgment, you follow the noise, only to find a bloodied, battered man, with a scar across his right eye, slumping against the wall. His shirt is torn and his tattoos peek out from the fabric, but what was once a white shirt is now stained with red from his wounds.

"Oh my god," you exclaim, your hands coming out to cover your opened mouth.

"Go away," the man grunts.

"Sir, you need to get to the hospital," you tell him, walking closer. "You're injured—"

He scoffs. "You should've seen the other guys."

You ignore his comment and move to sling his arm around your neck.

"What are you doing, woman?" he growls, resisting when you try to lift him up. "I told you to go away."

"And I told you, you need to go to the hospital," you scold him, finally managing to get him to his feet.

He tries resisting again but you poke his wounded side. It does the trick and he groans in pain, having no choice but to follow you because he can't do anything else.

The walk proves to be a struggle, but in the end, you manage to get him to your apartment after he argued with you and insisted he can't show his face in a hospital.

("The hospital's on enemy turf. I can't go there.")

The pain must be too much for him because he passes out as soon as he reaches your couch and he pretty much stays asleep while you treat his wounds as best as you can.

You leave a glass of water and some painkillers on the coffee table near your couch for when he wakes up, before you move to your bedroom to the do your night routine and finally get some sleep.

By the next morning, he's gone.

He's a strange man, you realize. Always talking in cryptic words, strange tones, and poetic sentences. But you naturally start to forget about him as the days go on.

Until one day.

You arrive at work, having been accepted at the corporate job you had an interview with, to find a gigantic arrangement of flowers on your desk. There's no card, so you chalk it up to a random admirer, and go about your day.

But it doesn't stop with the flowers.

Throughout the rest of the week, you receive an assortment of gifts. From expensive chocolates, designer clothes, and even an engraved kitchen knife.

And what surprises you is that the kitchen knife, of all things, provides the most answers because there's a card. It doesn't contain a message but there is a single name written.

Yoongi.

You blink.

Who the fuck is Yoongi?!

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ajortga · 2 months

Text

i'm not coming home.

pairing: vada cavell x fem reader

warning! sensitive topics ahead include: character death, suicide, overdose, massive angst with NO happy ending.

thank you egg for your request! cried a little making this which usually.. isn't quite normal to happen. hope this might make your angst heart pour a little.. p.s this was partially inspired by some other fics i read that i loved and this was particularly based off the lyrics im not coming home, not really my future:o

I just saw that song fic you made, it was very nice. So I’d like to request one of my own…

My future by Billie Eilish?

Obviously for my favorite girl Vada Cavell. Who else would I request for?

Her eyes looked at the moon, Vada’s brown eyes looking at the way the moon shone across the city.

“The moon is pretty, isn’t it?” A voice said beside her.

Vada's eyes glanced at you, a small smile forming on her lips.

“Yeah. But you were always prettier.”

“You used to say that a lot.”

“I know. It’s because I think it’s true.”

You stood there in silence, Vada scooted closer to you, pointing at the flowers right ahead of you guys.

“Do you remember when we planted those?”

“Yeah, they grew so pretty. We wanted to make a whole flower garden together.”

“The garden is growing I think.”

“I think so too.

Silence once again, the only sound was the dark trees rustling in the blue moonlight, stars above the two’s heads. Vada bit her lip, looking at the stars, her knees tucked under her arms.

“Do you think in another universe, we’d be in love?” You whispered, catching her off guard as she looked at you, seeing the way your eyes looked hurt.

Vada shrugged, thinking for a moment, “I don’t know..”

Another pause.

“Maybe in another universe, I never so badly wished it was this one though.”

She heard a small laugh, hurt laced behind it, “It once was.”

“In this universe we’re not. Because you’re no longer here.”

…

“I know.”

Vada wishes she could take those words back.

Vada needed space to herself after trying to heal from traumatic experiences it was so hard for her to deal with. You were just trying to help.

You were just trying to help.

Offering to hold her hand in the hallways, reassuring back rubs, kisses on the forehead, sticking by her side.

It was too much for her. She just wanted to be left alone, but she didn’t want to tell you.

You just were so worried, you made sure to love her.

The day Vada was the most stressed, she took all her anger out on you for just trying to comfort her.

“Can you stop being arrogant for once and get it into your brain that you need to leave me alone? You have to let me go and it’s getting so frustrating you can’t get that into your system! Just give me my space when I need it!”

Vada’s voice echoes through the house, her eyes looked enraged as she saw the way your figure looked so small.

“Okay.”

That was the last word she heard you say before you left the apartment to just.. Process.

Vada felt bad, seeing the way your shoulders dropped as you walked out the door. But she was just so frustrated with all these events she couldn't bring herself to apologize. She was too tired.

Ding

...

Ding

....

Ding ding ding ding ding

"Oh my god.." Vada groaned tiredly, her phone light almost lighting up the whole room as she rubbed her eyes, stirring from bed.

Who the hell would be notifying her at 2:43 AM?

Her hands flipped her phone over as she looked at the messages, the way her eyes widened was indescribable.

my sweet y/n♡: vada they won't go away.

my sweet y/n♡: i'm so scared.

my sweet y/n♡: it won't stop, vada it won't stop.

my sweet y/n♡: i can't breathe

my sweet y/n♡: i just want it to stop.

my sweet y/n♡: baby please i need you. i don't feel good.

4x call missed

my sweet y/n♡: i'm sorry.

my sweet y/n♡: i love you.

my sweet y/n♡: i love you with my whole heart and i promise that you can finally be left alone like you wanted.

"No! No no no no no!.." She said louder to herself, immediately jumping off the bed and hitting the call button. No response.

"Please just pick up!"

She grabbed her keys and slammed the door shut, immediately going to your house with an inhaler and meds.

She kept ringing and ringing as she heard you pick up, immediately putting the phone to her ear.

"Baby! Baby.. Talk to me. Talk to me please."

"...Vada.." you cry, your voice barely a whisper, "It hurts."

"What did you do? Y/N.. Tell me please, what did you do? Did you take something bad?"

"I just.. I..."

Vada hears you breathing heavily, making small hurtful breaths.

"I just wanted everything to stop... I'm so tired.."

"I'm almost there baby.."

Vada makes a full on swerve as she busts out of her car, hearing the way your labored breaths were gradually beginning to grow shakier. The call ends as she makes a plead of frustration. She grabs the keys she snagged when she left the house and frantically unlocked your door.

"Y/N!" she cries, the house was dark as she turned every corner before rushing into your room, barging in.

There you were, curled up on the ground, your arm over your stomach as she saw the way your chest shook, the way you let out cries. There were pills scattered around you, your hand holding a pill bottle that was almost half empty. Vada screamed as she immediately knelt down as you turned.

"Baby, Y/N, wake up!" She cried, shaking you

You were barely able to make a noise, she could only hear you say her name, your voice barely an audible whisper with tear-stained cheeks and glazed over eyes.

Vada let out a painful cry as her hand reached up to caress your now cold skin. You were shaking as Vada picked you up and cradled you, calling the 3 numbers as quickly as she could, begging for the ambulance to come as quickly as they could.

"Everything is going to be okay. Don't close your eyes sweetheart. I promise you'll be okay.."

You curled your body into hers, your head drooping down as you look at her, your vision unfocused.

Oh how your eyes were the ones she loved so much, the ones she loved so much now looking like this. Lifeless, barely hanging on.

"I'm so sorry. Vada's so sorry baby. I should have never said those mean things to you. You mean the w-world to me. I love you so much," The guilt was stirring in her stomach, unlike anything she's seen before.

You whimper against her, "I-I d-don't feel good... I-I feel s-so c-cold.."

Vada sobbed as she wrapped a blanket around your shaking, fragile body, hugging you tightly.

"I'm here. Help is coming," she whispered, looking down at you, fallen tears beginning to drop on your clothes.

Your eyelids were half-open, Vada's voice was beginning to become muffled. You knew Vada was beyond worried, you just wanted everything to stop for a while.. You also knew deep down, you wouldn't be able to make it. You wouldn't be able to make it out alive. You wouldn't be able to spend the rest of your life and marry Vada. Maybe live in the green meadows like you always dreamed of, cuddling as you watched the stars at night. Maybe have had a cat too and looked like the romantic sweethearts everyone envied of, sharing small gentle kisses in the corners of every place you traveled.

You knew you couldn't be with her till her last breath, but you knew she would be with you till yours.

You knew you wouldn't be able to live your love, so you mustered all the left-over strength you still had and croaked out the 3 little words.

"I love you."

You felt it. Vada did too. The way your eyes glassed over, it was no longer the warm, pretty eyes she adored, they were now foggy and dark. The way your body began to lose it's warm comfort that Vada ever so loved feeling when she cuddled you to bed. It was all fading. And she knew your life was fading too.

Vada cried, she didn't want to loose you. She was sobbing and she couldn't do anything about it, she was so so scared.

"I love you too. I love you so fucking much Y/N. I.. I.." She didn't know what else to say, she was so scared that she couldn't speak anymore, wailing.

You gave her the weakest smile you could muster, though she knew that it wasn't the smile you gave her when your eyes would light up as soon as you saw her, it was the smile that you finally understood.

You understood. The cracking smile that showed you were ready.

"That's all my heart can ever ask for. I-I'll be there with you, as a pretty deer in the moonlight, or the shiniest star. I-I'll be there whenever y-you need me.. It was never your fault.." You whispered, before she could see your eyes go still, your shaking body beginning to slow. The last teardrop that would ever fall go down your cheek.

"No! Open your eyes Y/N! Baby! Please! I'm here! You can open your eyes now! Wake up!"

Vada didn't know love could make her cry this hard as she felt your skin turn cold, she wished she could just take it all back. She'd remember you through every memory. But she'd remember that the memories of the person she loved most would never exist in the future. It was all in the past. She knew that you were gone as she cried into the wind. The ambulance was just too late as they saw her hugging your soulless body, never wanting to let go.

"Vada's so sorry.." She cries in a whisper.

Vada felt herself sniffle, she could feel the way her memories invaded her brain. She could never forgive herself for it. On every shooting star she wished that it could've never happened in the first place.

She then noticed the way she felt her cheeks suddenly stain with tears, seeing your pretty body fade away in the moonlight above. Seeing the way that you bit down a hurtful expression, smiling with a cracked heart as she sniffled. The night sky is now beginning to reflect through you.

It was all her fault. She couldn’t bear to hear it. But she knew now that you weren’t going to come home. You never would.

She knew one day you would fade from her mind completely. She couldn’t bear to know that one day, she’d forget the way you sounded. She knew that one day, your ghost would eventually fade away, your faded presence beginning to slow as time healed. There would be a day that your ghost would stop showing up completely.

She knew that one day, all your memories would turn into months, years, decades.

Until it’ll all be too old for her to remember. To remember you and the way you were the first person Vada felt her stomach tingle with fluttering butterflies as you kissed her so gently. To remember the way you would hold your umbrella for her as it poured rain, seeing the way your forehead would drip with water from protecting her before you could shelter yourself.

"Keep our love special okay? Keep it just between us. Keep it in your heart." You whispered, before you faded away, knowing one day you'll appear once again.

Vada nodded, slowly, she still can't believe she isn't over it. How could she be?

Her hair was wet, she was so used to feeling a hood over her head. She was so used to being protected by you. Rain drenched her clothes as her body shook, staring at the way the city lights dimmed below her.

She knew that you weren’t going to come home.

Because there she was, sitting on a wet patch of grass, drenched in the rain. Knowing that once before, you sat with her in the rain, holding an umbrella over her head as you hugged her, cuddling for warmth.

Vada let out a shaky, broken sigh as she looked up, seeing the way the stars shone. One shone so bright as she smiled. Her star.

From the wind blowing so gently in her hair with rain showering across the city, the deer peeked behind the tree, making a soft noise.

"Every night and day I wish I could feel your cuddles, kiss me and tell me it was all a nightmare, but it's been too long to know it's not just stupid nightmare. I miss you more than words can possibly describe."

Vada rubbed her cheeks, wiping the tears that were falling, feeling the rain drizzle with her sadness, making a quiet cry.

"It's been 5 months Y/N. I love you. I wish you were here with me. "

Maybe you wouldn't be with Vada till her last breath, maybe her grieving wouldn't last that long. But she was there for yours, that's all you could ever ask for. Your girlfriend hugging you as you took your last breath. That was special.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x you #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n #vada cavell x you #Spotify

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 1 year

Text

photographs

part two

masterlist

summary: when dean goes to hell, you realize you have almost no pictures of him. when he comes back, you take pictures every chance you get.

paring: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mentions of dean’s time in hell, implied sex/nudity, reader is picked up and carried by dean

author’s note: my longest one yet! :) also, there’s more use of “y/n” then i care to admit.

“dean?” you crawled toward his lifeless body, shaking with sobs as you got closer. “dean, baby, please!”

you sat up next to him and held his hand to your face, ignoring the blood that was now spread across your cheek. you let go of his hand to hold his face and kiss his forehead.

“dean,” you whispered, tears still streaming uncontrollably.

you woke up in a cold sweat. four months it had been since the worst night of your life. you sat up and looked at the picture on your nightstand. it was of you and dean; bobby had taken it about a month before dean had died. bobby had given you the picture along with seven others of dean (all taken when you knew him) when you moved in with him a couple days after dean’s death.

eight or so (fairly low quality) photos, that’s all you had of dean, besides a couple short voicemails and his outgoing message from his several cell phones. you never thought of taking pictures together, it’s like how no one has pictures of their closest friends. but now that he was gone, all you thought about was the moments you had no pictures to remember by. that time he surprised you with your favorite flowers after working separate cases and going a week without seeing each other. or when he made you breakfast in bed when your period cramps were worse than usual. or the little things; the way he smiled after kissing you, how his eyes lit up when you’d bring him a slice of pie, how he’d hum along to metallica while driving to a case with you in the passenger seat. or how he’d look waking up next to you each morning, so peaceful as he stirred and mumbled “good morning” to you with a smile; pulling you to him and kissing whichever part of you was closest, whether that was your cheek or hand he’d kiss you quickly and with such love there were times you’d forget about the monster you were hunting.

you got dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of dean’s old def leppard shirts. it no longer smelled like him but it still reminded you of him, and it made you feel closer to him. as you brushed your teeth your phone buzzed and you picked it up, spitting out the toothpaste before answering.

“hello?”

“y/n?”

“who is this?” you asked. you recognized the voice, you’d recognize it anywhere, but you knew there was no way it was him.

“it’s me, sweetheart, it’s dean,” you could hear the strain in his voice. you wanted it to be him so badly, you missed him so much it was driving you insane.

“this is fucking cruel, you know,” you inhaled sharply, holding back tears. “who is this really? some low-level demon? shapeshifter?”

“no, y/n it’s me i- i’m back.”

“you know what, i-” you bit the inside of your cheek. you knew it wasn’t him, but it still sounded like him. “i know this isn’t really dean, and if you call sam or bobby they will kill you, but i- i miss dean too much to care at this point.”

“y/n it’s really me-”

“stop, just- stop. i know you’re a shifter or something, but you sound exactly like him and i miss his voice so fucking much, so please just talk as if we’re having a normal conversation.”

“oh- okay,” he sighed. “how’ve you been, y/n? you taking care of yourself?”

you let out a wry laugh. “when i’m not knee deep in booze, i’m summoning demons.”

“y/n! no, sweetheart, that’s- that’s not what i wanted for you! you were supposed to move on, go back to nursing school.”

“how did you know-” you started then chose to ignore it, wanting to hear dean’s voice. “i was never going back to school, dean, you had to have known that! and ‘moving on’ isn’t really my thing, i'm more into revenge.”

“yeah, you’ve always been stubborn i guess,” he let out a laugh, causing you to smile at the sound.

“well you-”

“y/n, you up?” bobby knocked on the door lightly.

“gimme a minute, don’t hang up, please,” you whispered into the phone then answered bobby; “yeah come on in!” you sat on your bed, slightly smiling at him.

“hey, how’re you doing?” he asked, you shrugged.

“fine, i guess, everything okay?”

“i just got a weird call, about five or so minutes ago, from some asshole pretending to be dean, so i just wanted to give you a heads up, they’re probably gonna call you too.”

“oh- okay- um- thanks bobby,” you nodded slightly. he furrowed his brows.

“that's it? i thought you’d be pissed some monster is using dean’s voice to prey on the-” his expression softened as he realized. “emotionally vulnerable.” he let out a sigh, “it called you already, huh?” you nodded.

“he’s still on the phone, but bobby- it sounds just like dean,” tears welled in your eyes and threatened to fall. “i miss dean so much, it- it physically hurts sometimes bobby. i can’t sleep, i can’t eat, i- i just really fuckin’ miss him.”

“i know, kid, i know.” he sat beside you, you let him take the phone from your hand and he ended the call. “dean was the love of your life, nothing hurts more than losing that.”

“does this feeling ever go away? this like nauseated, broken, deeply sick feeling?”

“not completely, at least it hasn’t for me yet. sometimes i still miss my wife like she died yesterday, but other days it’s not so bad. and those are the days we need to hang on to, because we need to remember that the people we loved, the ones we lost, they loved us too. dean would want you to be happy.”

you had just finished your shower when you heard someone pounding on the door. you quickly got dressed in some clean clothes and hurried toward the stairs, grabbing your gun on the way. you tried to see what had gotten into the house, and when you saw him, everything in you froze completely. it couldn’t be him, not really. should you shoot it? you made eye contact with bobby, who slightly shook his head, as if he knew what you were thinking.

“dean?” bobby asked, starting to believe what the man was saying.

“that’s what i’ve been trying to tell you!” dean let out a breath of relief. bobby pulled him in for a hug while you stared in awe. you couldn’t really hear anything they were saying to each other, well you could but you weren’t listening. it’s as if you were suddenly on autopilot. you tucked your gun away and slowly walked down the stairs, surprisingly not making any sound.

“where’s y/n? has she been staying with sam? she’s not alone, right?” dean asked, bobby nodded slightly in your direction. you were now at the bottom of the stairs and two or so feet away from dean. he turned around. your heart leapt out of your chest and you let out a cry, covering your mouth.

“d-dean?” you exclaimed, placing a hand on his cheek. he closed his eyes and leaned into the simple touch. you gasped quietly, still not believing any of it, and half expecting to wake up at any moment.

“y/n,” he whispered, opening his eyes and looking into yours. “it’s- it’s really me, i swear.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your torso. he picked you up slightly so you wouldn’t have to be on your absolute tiptoes and he didn’t have to be hunched over. you giggled at the familiar feeling of being in his arms.

“dean,” you all but squealed as your grip on him tightened. you pulled back and kissed him, unable to stop the smile that was across your face. he kissed you back, also smiling widely. “holy shit, dean!” you pulled away and looked into his eyes. “dean, you- you’re-” you buried your face back in his shoulder and began sobbing, your whole body shaking. he let you stand up and he took a look at your now tear stained face.

“don’t cry, sweetheart,” he whispered, but that only made the tears fall quicker. you laughed a little and he smiled.

“‘m sorry,” you mumbled, snuggling into his chest and letting the tears soak his dirty t-shirt. he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you as close as physically possible.

“it’s okay,” he mumbled back, resting his head on yours. “i love you.”

“i love you so much.”

the moment was somewhat ruined by bobby splashing dean’s face with holy water.

“i’m not a demon, bobby,” dean sighed.

“had to be sure,” the older man shrugged and offered dean a kitchen towel to dry his face off.

“a camera?” dean laughed a little. he’d been back for about a week and you hadn’t left his side. the two of you were at target buying a few essentials.

“yeah, i recently realized i don’t have a lot of pictures of you, so,” you replied, quieting near the end of the sentence. his teasing smirk turned into a soft, understanding smile.

“well, better get a couple extra memory cards too, who knows how long we’ll have to go between uploading the pictures onto a computer.”

“okay,” you giggled, standing on your tippy toes and giving him a peck on his lower cheek. “love you!”

you hurried and grabbed a couple memory cards. a camcorder caught your eye and you smiled to yourself. you’d want videos of dean too, if something was to happen to him again. you also picked up a large, simple photo album on your way to meet dean at the checkout

“mkay, zoom in,” you tested out the camcorder in the mirror, not actually recording anything. “zoom out.”

“what’re you doing?” dean laughed, you turned the camcorder to him and pressed record. he was leaning on the door frame and raised his eyebrows with amusement.

“say your name for the camera,” you giggle.

“c’mon, seriously?”

“humor me?” you pouted, he rolled his eyes. “i’ll make it worth your while,” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively.

“my name is dean winchester, and this,” he put his hands on your shoulders and turned you back to the mirror. “is my beautiful girlfriend, y/n!” he wrapped his arms around your belly and buried his face in the crook of your neck. “i love you, y/n,” he kissed your neck repeatedly, causing you to giggle.

“i love you, dean,” you said between giggles.

“i’m literally brushing my teeth, this isn’t a particularly great memory,” dean laughed before spitting out the toothpaste. you had the camera in your hands and took a couple pictures of him; a cheeky smile now on his face as he got closer and engulfed you in a hug.

“but you look so cute doing everyday things,” you smiled up at him.

it took dean a couple days, but once he started taking pictures too, he never put the camera down (unless it was a life or death situation, obviously). it became a normal thing to have the camera out, even sam and bobby got into the mood - they let their pictures be taken and they even took pictures themselves. sam loved the camcorder and usually used that, while bobby preferred to use the camera.

dean showed up with a polaroid camera one night, which confused you.

“we already have the other two, you really think we need a polaroid?” you laughed lightly, still happy he was so enthusiastic about taking pictures.

“well, everyone uses the other two - i don’t want sam seeing your boobs,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“my boobs?” you practically spat out your coffee.

“yeah! what? if something happens to you, i don’t want to forget the girls!” he somehow managed to keep a straight face, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “what!”

“you’re adorable, that’s all,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a loving kiss. “so you spent approximately seventy-five-dollars on a polaroid just to take pictures of my boobs?” you mumbled against his lips. he hummed in approval; it seemed to make complete sense to him so you agreed, “mkay, seems reasonable.”

“of course it’s reasonable,” he smiled, kissing you. “wanna test it out?”

“oh definitely,” you smiled too, jumping up so he could carry you over the the motel bed.

“photo album one, complete!” you giggled, happy with your work as you handed it over to dean. “i put the date on the back of each one, and there’s room if we want to write about the picture, too. i already did that for some of them.”

“this is beautiful, sweetheart,” he smiled and flipped through the pages.

“i figured we could keep it in our room at bobby’s,” you suggested.

“okay,” he wasn’t really listening, he was fully focused on the collection of pictures from the past month or so. you all looked so happy, as if these pictures weren’t taken between slaying demons and monsters, or setting fires to corpses. (and now talking with angels, which still sounded crazy).

“you’ll like this one more,” you tossed him a miniature photo album that was meant to hold polaroids, it was filled with every picture taken with the newest camera. he looked through it quickly, smirking to himself almost every picture, then went back to looking at the main album. “i couldn’t find the one we took the first night, though, we didn’t leave it at the motel, did we?”

he didn’t say anything, just handed you his wallet; mesmerized by the photos of you, him, bobby, and sam. you smiled to yourself when you opened his wallet. god i love this man.

part two :)

#supernatural #dean winchester #spn #spn fanfic #sam winchester #castiel #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fluff #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x you #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

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babyleostuff · 9 months

Note

Hi sweetheart💙 how are you? Wish you a great day💙 I recently read the Jeonghan as your boyfriend and it's so adorable, can you make one for Wonwoo? Thank you💙

so happy to hear you enjoyed it love <3 here's a Wonwoo one and have a great day as well!

WONWOO AS YOUR BOYFRIEND

genre | a lot of fluff

author's note | if you want me to write this with any other member, let me know <3

𓆩♡𓆪 so incredibly in love with you

𓆩♡𓆪 anyone that looks at him can practically see his heart eyes for you

𓆩♡𓆪 if the boys see him smiling at his phone, they know he’s texting you

𓆩♡𓆪 his aura when he’s with you is all rainbows and hearts (it’s almost sickening)

𓆩♡𓆪 but he couldn't be more grateful for finding you and pulling your hot ass

𓆩♡𓆪 because come on, look at you

𓆩♡𓆪 he is your comfort person and the first soul you turn to when you’re having a hard time

𓆩♡𓆪 his kisses are gentle and loving, but the also carry a sense of passion

𓆩♡𓆪 because he is not always able to be next to you due to his job, he wants to convey his feeling for you through his actions

𓆩♡𓆪 when he has any free time from schedules he wants to spend every second with you

𓆩♡𓆪 probably at home too

𓆩♡𓆪 when he doesn’t have to pretend to be anyone else and doesn’t have to worry about cameras rolling all the time

𓆩♡𓆪 he can just be Wonwoo

𓆩♡𓆪 will read to you when you’re tired (will read to you even when you’re NOT tired)

𓆩♡𓆪 besides reading, he loves trying out new creative pastimes with you

𓆩♡𓆪 like baking, which didn’t end THAT well (your kitchen almost burned down, but that’s beside the point)

𓆩♡𓆪 or trying to plant different flowers and take care of them (which didn’t end well either, as both of you forgot to water them after like a week)

𓆩♡𓆪 a cliche, but he adores taking photos of you

𓆩♡𓆪 even if you’re a shy person and don’t necessarily like having pictures taken, he’ll make you feel like the most beautiful creature in the world (which you are)

𓆩♡𓆪 will not let you doubt yourself, not for a second, because the person on the photos he takes is all he ever needs in his life

𓆩♡𓆪 the best person to take your candid photos

𓆩♡𓆪 you’re probably not even aware, but he has a whole album dedicated to you

𓆩♡𓆪 looks through the albums when he’s away, because he misses you so much

𓆩♡𓆪 but he doesn’t want to seem clingy, so he won’t ever tell you about it

𓆩♡𓆪 will always stand up for you, if someone makes you uncomfortable or sad

𓆩♡𓆪 because one thing he absolutely cannot stand is his love being sad cuz of other people being mean

𓆩♡𓆪 another cliche, but video gaming

𓆩♡𓆪 even if you’re not that into it, he’ll try to warm you up to the idea

𓆩♡𓆪 and teach you gaming to some extent

𓆩♡𓆪 even if you suck, it doesn’t really matter to him, because you’re spending quality time together

𓆩♡𓆪 and probably laughing your asses of, because you’re so bad at it

𓆩♡𓆪 gives you small kisses when you get something right or survive a level

𓆩♡𓆪 but if you’re good, he’ll become SO competitive

𓆩♡𓆪 does not go easy on you, he does everything he can in order to win

𓆩♡𓆪 late night cuddles are his favourite

𓆩♡𓆪 you lay in each others arms, your head on his chest and an arm draped across his middle

𓆩♡𓆪 he has an arm around your waist and his hand pats your head gently

𓆩♡𓆪 you talk in a hushed tone, share your worries or discuss the most random topics

𓆩♡𓆪 it really doesn’t matter because you’re together

𓆩♡𓆪 and that’s what he misses the most when he’s away on tour

𓆩♡𓆪 your calming presence by his side

𓆩♡𓆪 but he is always just one phone call away and always lets you know that you can call him anytime

𓆩♡𓆪 because you are the most important thing in his life and he’d do anything for you

your messages <3

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luveline · 10 months

Note

Shy!reader having to cover Eddie mouth while talking on the phone with her parents (being he talks way to loud) or her parents are home and he is just being him (she snuck him in)

thank you for your request!!!<3<3 eddie x shy!fem!reader (r has a mom in this)

Eddie thinks he's funny. You think he's funny the majority of the time, and you're lucky your parents think he's funny too, but there's a line between funny and embarrassing that he's just dying to cross.

"Is that your mom?" he asks, having turned to you at the sound of the ringing phone. His eyes light up when you nod. "Hi, Mrs. L/N!" he calls.

"Hi, Eddie," your mom says back, chuckling.

"Ask her if she likes the flowers I sent for her birthday," Eddie demands. You don’t need to ask, she most definitely heard him.

"They were beautiful, Eddie, thank you."

You repeat her message before sitting back, trying to listen to what your mom's saying while Eddie begins his attack. He loves your attention too much, and when he isn't the sole object of it he can start to play up. For laughs, mostly, though you know there's a thread of genuineness under it all, a taut string of insecurity. You reach out to tuck a curl behind his ear, hoping it says you adore him while you're too busy responding to your mom to give him verbal reassurance.

Eddie melts and props himself over your lap. You're sitting on the couch, Eddie on the floor by your feet, a collectible he's painting painstakingly slow on the coffee table in front of him. He smells like PVA glue, and he has grey and white paint dried to his fingertips, but he's still the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen when he smiles.

"Does she want to come visit soon?" he asks. "It's been months now. Tell her I'm still amazingly handsome."

"Yeah, mom, he's giving me a hard time," you agree.

His lips part. "What! Give me that!"

You lean out of his reach and laugh when he climbs up onto your legs, heavy enough to hurt when his knee presses into your thigh but not strong enough to wrangle the phone from your ironclad grip.

"He's really getting on me," you say ironically, trying to elbow him away, your head twisted toward the couch cushion. He tickles your neck, and you laugh breathlessly through words, "He works me like a dog."

"Oh, is that how we're playing it?" he asks, his eyes wide.

His shirts riding up his side where he's fighting you, exposing the pale stretch of his stomach and the dark line of hair leading up to his bellybutton. You have to blink a few times to snap out of your oggling, but by then it's too late —he snatches the phone from between your ear and you shoulder and clears his throat.

"Hi, Mrs. L/N. Yeah, she's fine, she's a tyrant, she had me outside painting the fence in the heat last week. I know! That's what I said," —he crawls backwards across the couch from you, his eyes narrowed so you know he's promising some bad behaviour— "she's a bully, Mrs. L/N, really, and it doesn't stop outside of the house. I'm always doing her dishes, always the one who has to fold the laundry." He nods, hums, his hand behind him on the table that resides next to your couch, almost pushing the telephone base to the floor. "Hm, exactly. She's ridiculously entitled, don't even get me started on how she treats me in the bedroom, I can only go for so lon–"

You slap your hand over his mouth, pressed so hard you can feel his teeth through his lips. The horror you're feeling cannot be understated. You're not sure you've ever discussed sex or anything like it with your family and you're not eager to start.

"Eddie," you say, your heart in your mouth. You can't believe he'd be such a loudmouth about something so intimate with your mother, and kind of furious. "Did you really just do that? Give me the phone."

He gives you the phone. You sit back down on the couch seat and bring the receiver to your ear, mortified. "Mom?"

She doesn't say anything.

"Mom?" you ask, a cold sweat on your brow.

"Oh, right," Eddie says, raking his hair from his face, a picture of nonchalance, "I think I hung up on her. Somewhere between ridiculously and entitled."

You stare at the receiver like it might give you strength. Eddie laughs boisterously, much too happy to have pulled off such a stupid prank, and doesn't complain when you ram your head into his chest.

"Oh, I hate you," you mumble, dropping the phone.

He draws a line between your shoulders to make you shiver. Will the teasing never end? "As I love you," he says. His hands race up your shoulders to the juncture of your neck, where he cups your face like you're a seraphim angel. "You really thought I'd say that to her? I have to see her every New Year's for the rest of our lives, you realise? I love making your life difficult but I'd never torture myself like that."

"You are the most annoying boy on planet earth," you say succinctly, miserably.

"And I am so, so in love with you," he croons. You hate that it actually makes your heart skip.

He kisses the tip of your nose. You push him away from you and collapse into the couch, unsurprised when he positions himself on top of you, your thighs spread around his waist.

He pouts at you before nosing the skin just under your bra. "Don't be mad at me."

You cover your face with your hands for a moment. You aren't mad at him now that you know it was a ploy, but he doesn't need to know that, and you really need time to flush the mortification from your system. Eddie grabs your wrists and pulls your hands from your face, looking at you through one eye. "Will you be annoyed all night?" he asks skeptically.

"Yes… No. But you have to call her back for me. And make dinner. And tell her you were lying about doing the dishes."

"I do do the dishes."

"You offer."

"Yes, 'cos I'm madly in love with you and want to have your babies, not because I actually want to do the dishes."

"Just call her, Munson, please."

He kisses your neck, your cheek, and the side of your nose. "Mm, okay. But not because you asked me to. I'm sure she'd love to know why you were in the bathroom so long the last time we visited."

"I'll never speak to you again," you say weakly.

Eddie climbs off of you and gives your knee a squeeze as he goes. "Well, we'll find other things to do, I'm sure." He cackles at your expression. "I'm kidding, sweet thing! Your secrets are safe with me."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 11 months

Text

TAKE CARE OF YOU [5]

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 5,464

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?

[a/n: i love this man, and i love every single person who has taken the time to let me know that they also love this man😌]

05: TO OUR EXES

"eye contact is a dangerous, dangerous thing. but lovely. oh, so lovely."

It was nerve wracking getting ready for your date which was mildly ironic since it technically wasn’t even a date. Joel was in essence paying you to be there. That thought process didn’t help much though because it instilled the fear of ‘what if he didn’t like what he was paying for’⏤ which was a terrifying thought that could send you into a spiral if you thought about it too long.

For the millionth time, you adjusted your outfit before checking your hair once more in the mirror. Joel had texted you that he was on the way to your apartment. You had actually assumed that Riley would be driving you to meet Joel at the restaurant or perhaps to Joel’s home or work. The idea of Joel coming to pick you up himself was so adorably sincere in your mind.

The sound of knuckles rapping against your front door gave you pause. You glanced down at your phone to see that you didn’t have any missed messages from Joel. “Coming!” You called out while shoving your phone and wallet into the small purse that matched your dress. Heels clicking across your floor, you hurried to answer the door. “Hey⏤”

Your greeting fell silent halfway through it as you opened the door to see Joel looking as handsome as ever. It really wasn’t fair⏤ it looked effortless on his part. A gray sport coat with a navy blue button up shirt under the coat sans tie. Joel’s hair had a slightly messy look to it that seemed to be more accidental than planned. As if a long day of stress had undone a perfectly acceptable work style. His lips curled into a smile.

“Hey, sugar.” Joel greeted and it was nice to hear his voice in person again rather than through a telephone. He shifted to pull his hand out from behind his back to present you with a new bouquet of flowers just as gorgeous as the first.

Your eyes widened as you took the variety of wild flowers from him “Joel… These are gorgeous.”

“No, darlin’, you’re gorgeous.” Joel replied without hesitation. You looked up from the flowers to see Joel’s eyes tracing every inch of you. The clear admiration in his emotive brown eyes making your breath catch in your throat. He shook his head once, “Goddamn…”

You could feel your cheeks and the back of your neck warm at the compliment. Clutching the flowers to your chest, you cleared your throat. “It’s the dress. Thank you so much, Joel. I really love it.”

“The dress ain’t nothin’ without you, sugar. Don’t be silly.” Joel let out a small scoff.

“Here.” You motioned for him to come in. “Let me put these in water and we can be off.” While walking to the kitchen to find something that could be used as a vase, you heard Joel close the front door and step in. Your eyes glanced over your living space in mild embarrassment. Joel seemed to be looking around as well and you saw his eyes drift to a few photos you had hanging on your walls. “You really didn’t need to buy me more flowers, you know. I’m still in love with the ones from this morning. The sunflowers are so pretty.”

Joel drifted over, seeming entirely out of place in your tiny home, “Need? It’s about ‘want’, and I want to buy you everythin’.”

“Everything?” You chuckled.

Joel titled his head just a bit, amusement flashing in his eyes, “Did I stutter, sugar?” You housed the flowers into a glass vase so you could set it next to the sunflowers and roses from this morning. Joel cleared his throat. “Are the flowers too much?” It was the first time since the start of this that you heard hesitance and doubt creep into his voice again. Joel rubbed the back of his neck. “I know it’s kind of cheesy⏤”

“First off, how dare you use the word ‘cheesy’ in a negative context.” You replied and Joel’s smile returned. “Second, I love the flowers. I really do. I… Nobody’s ever bought me bouquets like this before”

“That’s a damned shame.” Joel’s doubt seemed to slip away. “Never?”

“Well, I suppose not never. I’ve gotten apology flowers maybe but never ‘good morning’ flowers and ‘date night’ flowers.” As the words left your mouth, your eyes widened. Early today, you had decided not to refer to this as a date in front of Joel because you were unsure of what to correctly call it. Despite this plan, you managed to screw it up before even leaving your apartment. “Not that⏤ I mean, tonight isn’t⏤ or it⏤ Uh, I…”

Joel chuckled then held his arm out at the elbow for you. “Ready for our dinner date?”

You felt your face warm once more this time partially in relief from Joel’s subtle reassurance. “Very.” You nodded and looped your arm through his. “Let’s go.”

The two of you left the apartment, only pausing to lock your door, and Joel kept his arm through yours to help you cautiously down the stairs and out to the front of the building. The car on the curb you didn’t recognize was a dark maroon truck and it was the one Joel led you to. He opened the passenger door and held your hand to help you climb in.

“Watch your feet.” Joel said before shutting the door. As he came around, you chuckled and clipped your seat belt. Joel must have noticed your amusement and he grinned. “What is it?”

“I like your truck. It’s not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know.” You teased. “I’m pretty sure guys with the kind of bank account you have are supposed to drive lamborghinis and mercedes.”

Joel laughed as he pulled away from the curb. “Those ain’t really my style, sugar.” It wasn’t necessarily true. You could picture Joel behind the wheel of a fancy car and God would he look good there, but the truck felt like him. It had the same 'down to earth' energy that Joel carried when he walked around in his flannels. “Growin’ up, I always wanted a truck like this.” He glanced over at you before his eyes shot back to the road. “It was the first thing I bought for myself after the company took off.”

You ran your hand against the worn leather of the middle console. The truck was well cared for, but obviously a bit aged. That was even cuter to you. Not only was he driving around in a vehicle you wouldn’t give a second glance on the road, but he wasn’t even driving the newest model despite being able to afford it plus more.

“So, tell me about your day.” You said. “Anything exciting happen?”

Joel let out a quiet scoff before casually walking you through some of the disasters he was forced to deal with. You knew very little, arguably nothing, about contracting or his job in particular. That being said, Joel had a nice way of telling stories. It wasn’t just his voice alone, which you had already established was addicting to listen to, but Joel was able to keep a person engaged and wanting more when he spun a tale. He wasn’t overly vocal from what you’ve gathered, but when he did speak the words he chose mattered.

“What about you?” Joel asked without glancing over. The truck was officially way out of your neighborhood and in a much richer area of the region. “That boutique okay?”

“Oh, it was amazing.” You replied and began to tell him all about Kiera. “Honestly, I was nervous to shop at a place like that, but she was incredible.” Joel hummed happily and you began to tell him how you also got lunch with Riley. “I basically had to arm wrestle him into letting me use your card to buy lunch for us because he didn't want to ‘impose’.”

Joel barked out a laugh. “It’s kind of frustratin’ when you wanna buy somethin’ for a person who fights you tooth and nail on it, huh?”

You bit down on your lower lip to keep from excessively grinning. “Shut up. That’s not the same.”

“Oh, it ain’t?”

“I wanted to buy Riley a sandwich, you wanted to buy me a car.”

He shrugged. “I don’t see a difference.” You playfully rolled your eyes and he had been glancing over just at the right time to see it. Joel’s hand reached over to lightly grasp your hand which was resting on the middle console. His warm touch made your breath hitch and you could feel calluses on his palm. Joel gave your hand a tight squeeze. He scolded you teasingly, “Good girls don’t roll their eyes, sugar.”

“I⏤ I, uh, I did warn you that you were gonna turn me into a spoiled brat.” Your voice had cracked at the beginning of the sentence and you were forced to clear your throat to stabilize it.

Joel glanced over again, and he gave your hand a softer squeeze this time. Sincerity replaced his teasing, “This alright? If you don’t want me⏤”

“No.” You tangled your fingers with him in fear that he was going to pull away. “This is fine.”

Joel chuckled and for the rest of the drive to the restaurant you found it hard to focus on anything other than the small circles that Joel’s thumb was tracing against the skin on the back of your hand. You weren’t familiar with the area outside the car window but you found yourself surrounded by skyscrapers. The building Joel pulled up to was well lit and the people traveling in and out of the lobby looked just as well dressed as the both of you.

He parked the truck in the valet lane then squeezed your hand to draw your attention to him. “Stay right there, sugar.” You gave him a nod and watched as he climbed out and walked around the truck’s front. He tossed the keys to the valet with a quick thanks. The valet must have said something you didn’t catch because Joel chuckled and nodded. You shifted in your seat, realizing why he asked you to stay put, and waited for Joel to reach your door. Joel pulled it open, held a hand out, and offered a charming smile. “Ma’am.”

“Sir.” You replied with a grin and took his hand so he could help you climb out of his truck. Joel took your hand and looped it around his elbow. You felt your cheeks warm at the motion. Though you had known he was taking you out in public, a part of you thought he wouldn’t want to be seen with you though. It’s not like you were his dirty secret, the two of you weren’t part of some scandal or affair, but it still felt like something you were supposed to hide. You shoved the doubt out of your mind and let your eyes glance around the lavish lobby. “This place is gorgeous. Where are we?”

“This is the J Hotel.” Joel replied. You briefly stiffened. A hotel? Obviously, this was a hotel. You should’ve noticed from the curb. Was he going to take you to a room? A trickle of concern crawled down your spine. Joel seemed to notice because he set his free hand on top of the one you had holding onto his arm. “Hey. It’s alright. There’s a restaurant on the rooftop. That’s where we’re heading, darlin’.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding and shot him an apologetic smile. “Of course. Of course, we are. I’m so sorry.” He had been nothing but a gentleman, above and beyond really, and your mind had immediately assumed the worst of him. “I wasn’t⏤ I don’t think you’re that kind of guy I just⏤”

“No need for apologies.” Joel chuckled. “I’d be more worried if you weren’t wary of me. I’m a strange old guy payin’ you to hang out around me.”

You tightened your grip on his arm as the two of you stepped into the elevator. “Not strange. I’d use the words ‘kind’ or ‘charming’ or ‘handsome’ even.”

Joel let out a soft laugh as he hit the button for the sixty-seventh floor. The ride up only took a moment and when the floor opened up you commended Joel for his choice in location. The rooftop restaurant was gorgeous. String lights hung overhead and the seating area was filled with an almost garden-like energy. The maitre d’ spotted the two of you and hurried over to offer a greeting. It was very different compared to the side eye the maitre d’ from the restaurant where you and Nima had met Roaslind. You were led over to a table and you were excited to see it was near enough to the side of the roof that you’d have a clear view of the LA skyline without having to peer around another table.

Joel slid his arm out from yours to pull out your chair. The flowers, opening your car door, pulling out your chair⏤ it was all very little things, but you found yourself enjoying it immensely. Joel sat down across from you and you gave your waiter a double take when you realized he had only offered one menu for the table and he had placed it in Joel’s hands.

“Um…” You began.

“Don’t worry.” Joel replied. “We only need one. This place makes four new dishes a day. I can read you those four options.”

You crossed your arms to lean on the table, amused, “And why can’t I read my own menu?”

“Because,” Joel scanned the menu once more before meeting your gaze, “I know you’ll end up pickin’ your meal based on the price tag rather than get what you actually want.”

Your eyes widened in slight surprise. He wasn’t wrong, but it caught you off guard that he had thought of it. Joel quickly walked you through the options and you picked a meal that sounded most appealing to you. When the waiter came back, he took the order and offered a few wine choices. Joel nodded to you to decide and you agreed to whatever the waiter thought would work best with your meals.

“You know,” You laced your fingers together with a small smile, “I’m surprised.”

“By?”

“Most rich people can’t fathom the lifestyle of someone in my tax bracket.” You replied with a small shrug. “Because you were right. I would’ve probably picked based on the price, without even realizing it.”

Joel chuckled, “I wasn’t always rich, sugar.” You knew he hadn’t always been a multi-millionaire, but you assumed he jumped from upper class to that level. “Back in college, and a little while after, I was broke.” He offered you a small understanding nod. “I’ve had those days where you go out for dinner with friends and you pick the cheapest thing on the menu ‘cause you can’t afford nothin’ else.” Your gaze softened at his words, and he chuckled. “Then you’re too proud to accept help from any of your friends so you spend the entire night tryin’ to convince them that corn nuggets were your actual favorite food and that’s why you ordered ‘em.”

You laughed at how relatable his words were. Not too long ago, right before Joel offered you this proposition, you had literally sat in a restaurant with Nima and refused to let her buy you food⏤ claiming you ordered the side salad because you weren’t very hungry rather than admitting you were forced to use your full paycheck for rent and bills which left you nothing for spending.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It was a fair assumption.” Joel conceded. “Most people who make it to my current tax bracket,” He copied your phrasing, “Started pretty near the top to begin with.”

The waiter returned to pour you both a glass of wine and you and Joel both thanked him. You took a sip and savored the flavor. This was absolutely not the boxed wine you had sitting in your fridge currently. A soft groan of approval slipped your lips.

“Good?” Joel asked.

“Much better than the wine I just bought from Target.” You nodded. Joel laughed and you motioned around the restaurant. “This place is amazing by the way. Do you come here often?”

Joel shook his head. “No. This is my first time.”

“Oh. Why’d you pick it then?” You asked curiously.

“Well,” Joel cleared his throat then offered you a sheepish smile, “I didn’t. I asked my assistant to plan this out.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just been a while since I did anythin’ date related… If it had been up to me I would’ve taken you to a diner a few blocks down from my office. Best burger in LA, I swear it.”

You resisted the urge to tell him that you would’ve been happy with any place he chose as long as it gave you time to spend with him. That seemed to potentially cross a line from ‘fake date with a sugar daddy’ and into ‘real date with a man you’re crushing on’. A distinction you were making a real effort to focus on. However, you were unable to resist asking the question that had plagued you all day.

“How is it you haven’t done anything date related in a while?” You asked. “How are you even single?”

“You know…” Joel grunted out a vague response and shrugged.

You chuckled, “No, actually I don’t. I find it very hard to believe that a guy like you couldn’t have any woman he wanted, yet here you are. With me.”

“With you is exactly where I wanna be.” Joel replied confidently. You rolled your eyes with a small chuckle. He held his wine glass in his hand, but lifted a finger from it to point at you. “There you go rollin’ those pretty eyes again. You’re askin’ for trouble.”

“No. You know what I’m asking.” You countered.

Joel let out a small sigh and nodded. “I was with a woman a year ago. It didn’t end well.” You took a sip of your own wine but continued to lean on the table listening intently. “It was just a messy relationship. We weren’t… compatible, but we stayed together longer than we should’ve. She didn’t like that I was too cold, and I didn’t like that she was sleepin’ with other guys.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. There was a lot to unpack in that sentence alone. “God, I’m so sorry, Joel.” It was baffling that anybody wouldn’t appreciate what they had with Joel. And cold? You’ve known not even a full month, but if someone asked you to describe Joel the last word you’d use was ‘cold’. “She thought you were cold?”

“She said I wasn’t affectionate enough.” Joel replied in an off handed manner. The way someone would respond to a question they didn’t want to elaborate on. Still, you had a hard time believing Joel was not affectionate with his significant other. Hell he had been more affectionate toward you this last week than your ex-boyfriend had been the last few months of your relationship. You wondered if his old girlfriend hadn’t understood his affection. You were getting the feeling that Joel’s love language was ‘Acts of Service’. To someone who didn’t respond to that then they could potentially make that complaint. “It was a long time ago.”

You twisted your lips, “You haven’t met anyone since then that you were interested in?”

Joel held your gaze for a beat before he glanced at his wine glass and took a sip. He shook his head and met your gaze once more with a small smile. “It just wasn’t a priority.” He chuckled. “Then I got lovingly bullied into the sugar baby idea.” There was obviously a story there that you were curious about, but Joel changed the subject so you were the topic of conversation. “Don’t feel obligated to answer ‘cause I talked about my love life, or lack thereof, but… what about you?”

“Me?” You motioned to yourself.

“Yeah.” Joel grinned. “You’re a catch, sugar. Smart, witty, fun, drop dead gorgeous,” You felt your cheeks warm at his words and you hid your smile behind your wine glass as you took a sip, “How’re you single?”

This wasn’t something you enjoyed talking about, but if Joel could share a bit of his painful past then you could as well. You licked your lips, “I wasn’t single six months ago.” Joel’s eyebrows rose. “I was dating a guy and we were pretty serious.”

“How long did the two of you date?”

“Two years.” You admitted with a slight wince, and Joel looked even more surprised. “The topic of marriage actually came up, but…” You cleared your throat. “He told me I wasn’t marriage material.”

Joel’s eyebrows furrowed, “I’m sorry, what?” You shrugged in response, not knowing what else to say. He scoffed with a shake of his head. “No offense, darlin’, but your ex is an absolute moron who didn’t know what he had.”

“It’s funny you say that.” You teased. “I was just thinking that about your ex.”

Joel’s lips curled up into an amused smirk. He lifted his wine glass toward you, “To our exes then. Without their mistakes we wouldn’t be here tonight.”

“To our exes.” You laughed and clinked your glass against his.

The rest of dinner consisted of conversation topics that weren’t quite as heavy as the history of your love lives. Just like with your phone calls with Joel, talking to him was the easiest thing in the world. Any moment of silence that did occur between the two of you was comfortable rather than awkward, and you never felt pressured to fill the space with words just for the sake of it.

When the waiter came to the table with the check there was no question of who it was going to. He handed it over to Joel who thanked him then pulled out his card to hand back. You finished the last of your current glass of wine.

“Seriously though,” You spoke up, “Thank you so much. This meal was amazing.”

“My pleasure, sugar.” Joel chuckled. “Glad you enjoyed it.” The waiter returned with his card and you watched Joel write on the receipt before rising up. He held a hand out to you to help you out of your seat and you beamed as he pulled your arm through his arm once more. “Night ain’t over yet though.”

Your smile widened as you let him lead you out of the restaurant. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm.” Joel replied as you both settled in the elevator. You hit the button for the lobby before he could. He reached into his coat’s internal pocket to pull out two tickets. “Some show in the LA County Museum of Art.”

He offered you the tickets for you to see what it was for. You recognized the name of the show because Nima had just been talking to you about this only a few days prior. Joel paused with you by the side of the road as the two of you waited for the valet to bring his truck around.

“Do you know much about this show?” You asked in curiosity. If the few things you did know about him were correct you had a feeling that the same person who picked out this restaurant also chose this show.

“No. It’s some kind of art show, ain’t it?”

“Yes.” You chuckled. “But it’s a sensory experience.” Joel shot you a confused look and you grinned in response. “So… the area is dark and the only light is on the floor to light a path and the art pieces itself, and you’re not allowed to talk. It’s a silent showing.”

You saw immediate distaste on Joel’s face as he took the tickets from you to scan them. Another laugh bubbled from your lips when you heard Joel mutter a curse under his breath. He blew out a sigh as his truck rolled around. “We don’t gotta do this, sugar, but I don’t really have anything else planned…”

The idea of calling this the end of your night already sat bitter on your tongue. Joel caught the keys thrown to him before opening the passenger seat door to help you climb in. As he walked around the truck, you pulled out your phone to search an address for a possible idea.

“I have an idea.” You blurted when Joel climbed in. He raised an eyebrow at you. “Drive here.”

He glanced at the GPS on your phone, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I’m not that big on surprises.” Joel countered skeptically.

“And I’m not good at letting people buy me things.” You smirked. “We’re both experiencing new things today.” Joel bit back a chuckle, but he still gave you a wary look. You leaned across the console with the brightest smile you could muster. “Please, daddy.”

Joel’s lips curled up into a smile and he shook his head with a laugh under his breath. He turned and put the car into drive to start following the GPS. You beamed at him and it felt empowering to know you were able to so easily sway him into agreeing to a surprise. Joel reached out again to lace his hand with yours. “You’re lucky you’re so damn cute, sugar.”

“Here. If it makes you more comfortable,” You said, “When we get there I’ll let you pay for us to go in.”

“Oh, you’ll let me pay.” Joel laughed and squeezed your hand.

“Only because I’m feeling charitable today.”

Joel shook his head with an amused scoff.

The surprise you had thought of wasn’t far and you clocked the exact moment that Joel realized where your GPS was taking him. He glanced over at you before looking back to the road with a voice of shock. “Putt putt golf? Really?” Joel pulled into a parking spot and turned to stare at you in disbelief. “This is what you wanna do for the rest of the night?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded. “What’s wrong, daddy?” The choice to use the nickname again was the correct one when you saw him stiffen in his seat. “Afraid I’m gonna kick your ass?”

Joel’s jaw locked and he snatched his keys from the ignition before climbing out of the truck. Knowing what he’d prefer, you stayed put until he came around to open your door. When he yanked it open you shot him a smug smile. Joel nodded once and held his hand out to you. “Don’t think I’m gonna take it easy on you.”

“I’d be upset if you did.” You replied as your feet landed on the ground and you stood right in front of him.

The two of you walked in through the front and you picked out a club while Joel paid for the course for you both. When asked if he wanted to do the 9 or 18 hole course he picked the longer one without even asking, and you smiled to yourself. You liked that he enjoyed his time with you as much as you did with him. He picked his own club and you grabbed a dark green ball for Joel and a light blue one for you.

“We need to make a deal.” You said while you both wandered out toward the first hole. The place wasn’t very crowded which meant you wouldn’t feel rushed.

“I think we already made a deal, last I checked.” Joel replied and motioned between the two of you.

“Funny.” You bumped your hip into him. “I meant for the game. Like... loser pays for post-game ice cream.”

Joel shook his head, “I’m not gonna let you pay for ice cream.”

“Okay, real bold of you to assume I’m gonna lose.” You laughed and Joel just shot you a confident smirk that fit his handsome features well. You stayed firm. “We need incentive.”

“Fine. How’s this? If you win, then I pay for ice cream.” He started. You followed his statement and narrowed your eyes at his wording. Joel continued. “But, if I win, then I pay for ice cream and I get to buy you an exorbitant and unnecessary gift.”

Your jaw fell open. “What?”

“What?”

“That’s kind of ridiculous.”

Joel looked smug as you both reached the first hole. “Just win and you won’t have to worry about it.” He dropped his ball down on the green, lined up his shot, and then hit. You watched the green ball roll down the first, simple path and drop into the hole. He turned in place to address your shock. “Or, you can think of suggestions to give me of what you might want.” Joel leaned in toward you just a bit and in a teasing tone added. “I’m thinkin' maybe a small country. Are you partial to Europe or Asia, sugar?”

“You can’t afford a country.” You scoffed. Joel shrugged and pulled back so you could take your turn, but your eyes widened. “Joel, can you afford a small country?” He walked down the course to fetch his ball. “Joel??”

The putt putt course brought out Joel’s competitive side and you loved it. It seemed like years of stress had been lifted off his shoulders as he let loose with you. As you both reached the end of the 18 holes he was in the lead by only a few strokes.

“You’ve technically already lost, sugar.” Joel chuckled as he waited for you to finish the last hole.

“Hush.” You replied.

Joel laughed then motioned toward you. “Look, you make a hole in one here and you win the entire thing.”

“Wait, really?” You perked up in excitement. Joel nodded. You readjusted your golf ball at the start and focused on lining up your shot. Joel continued to tease you while you tried to focus. You shot him a playful glare. “Excuse you, sir. Quiet on the course.”

Joel bowed his head in a mocking gesture and you went back to focusing on your turn. After lining it up, you swung. The ball bounced off the wall and made a beeline toward the hole. You began to bounce in excitement but the light blue ball rimmed around the hole and then sat on the edge without falling in.

“Are you shitting me!?” You cried in alarm. Joel laughed as you hurried over to where your ball sat. You pointed to it and looked at Joel. “Oh, come on. Come on!”

Joel stepped onto the course and kicked your ball in. He reached out to lightly tap the side of his knuckles under your chin making you warm. Joel let out a soft sigh and offered you a comforting smile. “Hey, it’s alright, sugar.” He leaned in. “I won’t buy you a country. I’ll just pick out some gaudy piece of jewelry.”

Your jaw fell again and he laughed. You gave him a playful shove, “I thought you were gonna give me the win!”

“Absolutely not.” Joel replied and took the club from your hand so you didn’t have to carry it. His hand settled on your lower back while gently leading you back towards the putt putt golf house. “I told you I wasn’t gonna take it easy on you.”

“What if I ask really nicely?”

“Aw, sugar, you can try.” Joel set both your clubs on the counter.

His hand never left your back as he led you back out toward the truck. You turned and resisted the urge to rest your hands on his chest. Instead, you stepped closer and just tilted your head up to face him, and with a sickly sweet voice you tried again, “Please can we call this my win, daddy?”

Joel’s gaze softened as he stared at you and he nodded once. “Still no. Come on, let’s get ice cream.”

“Hey!” You cried as he grasped your hand and continued to drag you to his truck. You laughed and tugged on his arm. “If you were just gonna turn me down again then why’d you even give me the chance to ask nice?”

“It might’ve worked. You never know.” Joel glanced your way once more. “And maybe I just wanted an excuse to hear you call me ‘daddy’ again.” You felt your face grow warm at his comment and there was no hiding the way it made your smile grow. Joel ran his thumb against the back of your hand and chuckled. “So? Ice cream? I’m buyin’.”

You counted your blessings and sent another silent thanks to your exes.

taglist (closed):

@weddingfairy @bfences @fairntonorth @jasminedragon @biwitchy @huffle-punk @shelbyteller @anoverwhelmingdin @aheadfullofsteverogers @stagerightlauren @basicoccult @rinnfey @boofy1998 @farintonorth @thepascalofus @amatis-gray @casa-boiardi @northernbluess @jettia @sapphicsoie @spidey-3 @camiali25 @hrtsforpascal @gingersince97 @sentients17 @bigboiseason123 @lunxramour @ktheunready @heyheyheygaypay @keepingupwiththeskywalkers @adoringanakin @come-hell-or-eldren-fire @cherriebat @whitewolfstar01 @alyssa121611-blog @asreadbyajj @painfullyandprettypoetic @cantobightcafe @hellooseulgi @str84pedro

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✨J.M. Masterlist✨

#the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #sugar daddy!joel miller

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deja-yu · 7 months

Text

ATEEZ -> when their s/o is sad and hiding it from them

Individual super short stories

Seonghwa

You had been eerily quiet after you came home, you greeted him the same as always when he came to greet you at the door. But after you both went to do your own thing, he hadn’t heard you rummage around nor did you come back into the living room to watch something. Often you two would do your separate things in the same room, but you disappeared into the bedroom and haven’t returned. His eyes keep finding the bedroom door, not sure if you wanted to be alone or if he should go and find you. Thinking about what to do for a while before he can’t stand it anymore, worry pulling him towards you. Opening the door he peeks inside, finding you on the bed hugging the pillow. You don’t seem to hear him come in over the sound playing on your phone. When you let out a big sigh he freezes a little. Normally if you were on your phone like this, you’d still come to show him funny things or his phone would buzz as you send them to him. The bed dips as he lies down next to you, you turn to him as he asks “Do you want to go out to get a drink and snack?”. Your favourite thing to do when you are feeling down, just to get outside and have something nice to do. As you turn to face him you’re unable to hold in your emotions. Having gone away from him to try and sit out your sadness so you wouldn’t bother him. But his brows are furrowed slightly and concern is written all over his face. Your boyfriend studying your face for any sign of hurt makes it so damn hard to hide away from him any longer. Scooting closer, you bury your face in his chest and he instantly wraps his arms around you. “I’m here baby” he reassures feeling his own heart tug at your sobs.

Hongjoong

You hadn’t responded to his messages since yesterday. After texting him you made it home it had been silent from your side. The work in front of him seemed never ending when all he wanted to do was check on you. He’d managed to step aside and give you a call but it goes to voicemail after a few rings, Hongjoong sucked his teeth in slight annoyance. Feeling a little helpless about what to do when he knew you weren’t well. A text appears on his screen, ‘Sorry babe, I am not really feeling too great. Can I text you back later?’ some part of him want to give in on your request. But he didn’t want you to sit alone not talking about what was wrong or bothering you. He decides his work can wait, taking the metro to you place, getting your favourite snacks, drinks and lastly the flowers you love so much. Letting himself into your house, he assumes you are in bed and takes a moment to cut the flowers, cringing when the end result is a little lopsided from his work. Next he shuffles around the living room, the commotion lulls you from slumber and as you walk into the living room your eyes land on the flowers and then on your boyfriend setting up the couch for cuddles. He turn to you at the sound of soft sniffles, “You came?” the question makes him rush over. Pulling you into his arms with a soft chuckle, “Of course I came over, I will always come to you”.

Yunho

He always knows when something is wrong or bothering you, like second nature he’d always find you at parties when you were getting tired. Always receiving a text when work was getting a bit too much. Pulling you into his arms when you'd been quiet a bit too long. And you know he can tell now just like any other time even from across the room, but you want to reassure him. Sending him the best smile you could muster, his shoulders seem to relax a little and as Mingi starts talking to him he reluctantly takes his eyes off you. You sit with your friends a while longer before excusing yourself to the bathroom. Away from the others you want a minute to recollect yourself but you find yourself sinking to the floor head in your hands. Trying to breath in and out calmly, refusing to cry at this party. You don’t need to look up to know the footsteps coming your way are his. His hands softly lifting your head as he squats before you. “Let’s go home bun” you nod, his warm smile allowing you to let go of some tears. He wipes them from your cheek before kissing your forehead. Helping you up and not forcing you to go back and say goodbye’s, you two just silently leave to go home. Where he doesn't blame you for not telling him before leaving, for making him leave his friends without a word. Where he just holds you till your tears run out, "I'm here with you, you're not alone".

Yeosang

It was hard to keep a plain face around your boyfriend, he always studied your face when he could. His stare so soft as he seemed to take every quiet moment he had with you to embroider your details into his memories. You tried to pretend you didn’t notice, focusing on putting the next items into the cart. He pushed the cart after you, following every step you take. Your throat felt so tight as you tried to swallow your feelings down, you hadn’t seen him all week and now you were preparing for a nice evening together. Why did you have to let the weeks hardship take over your emotions now. Frustration growing you barely even register Yeosang's objections when you go to grab a heavy item. His hands coming on top of yours to prevent you from lifting the item. You huff and take a step back but he comes back up with you, you try and avoid his eyes so he takes a hold of your chin. Softly tugging to make you meet his eyes. “Why are you hiding from me? Something is wrong, you can talk to me. I am always here to listen to you” His brows knit together, finally understanding why you have been avoiding his touch and gaze since you met up. It makes your cup spill over and tears prick in your eyes. He looks from you to the cart, “Let’s get this and order the rest?” you nod. He takes your hand in his and now you follow in his steps as he leads you through the supermarket. Once in the car you don’t hide your tears anymore and his hand holds yours, thumb stroking your skin as he drives the two of you home.

San

San had a habit to always have a hand on you, on your thigh when he was driving, on your lower back when you were standing together at a party, the list goes on. In the early stages of dating, you asked him why and he gave you a cheeky smile before saying he just had to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and you were real. You’d had hit his chest over the cheesy comment but he never stopped, and it’s not like you minded. It had become a comfortable thing between you two. It was never too much that you felt like a cringy couple, the subtle touch just let you know he was at your side. But right now, you don’t know how to ask San for that same comfort. As he paces around the house getting ready for his night out with his friends. You watch him silently from the couch, unsure of how to get what you want without delaying his night. Lump in your throat as the longer you think about it the more distressed you become. San stops on his way through the living room, he can only see your back but your shoulders are slumped and you’re just sitting in silence. “What’s wrong?” he asks when you turn to him you just give him a smile. He squints his eyes in suspicion and makes his way over, standing behind the couch he caresses your cheeks as you lean your head back against the pillow. “Do you want me to stay home?” your eyes open again after closing them to cherish his touch, he is looking at you with a soft smile. His thumbs coming to stroke both your cheeks you don’t even notice the tears have slipped out till he leans down and kisses your nose. “Let’s order your favourite food?” you nod softly but you can’t stop the nagging feeling. “What about your night out?” San makes his way around the couch and sits down, holding his arms wide open for you. “There will be more nights for me to go out with them, they don’t mind” he pauses for a moment as you get comfortable in his embrace. “I would miss you the whole night anyway” you chuckle at that and you relax finally feeling like you are safe from all that has been haunting your mind.

Mingi

It was completely dark in the bedroom but Mingi would always find you whenever he woke up in the middle of the night. And he did this by tapping his hand around the bed till he hit your body. But right now he had gotten to the part where his hand did not hit the bed. Opening his eyes he finds he shifted all the way to your side of the bed, so he made a sound between grunt and surprise turning to check his side of the bed. But no he was all alone, he starfishes on the bed for a second before getting up to find you. He is rubbing his eyes when he steps into the living room and you suck in a breath when you see him. Like holding your breath would hide your puffy red eyes and tears on your cheeks. It does in the few second it takes him to walk over to you on the couch. Once in front of you his mouth opens and closes, words dying on his lips. Noticing your tears his eyebrows shoot up, eyes big as he freezes for a second. But then his big hands cradle your face, cheeks getting slightly squeezed. “What is wrong?” his voice is still filled with sleep, deep and rumbly. You smile at him but soon it turns into a sob. Big as your boyfriend he wedges himself on the couch with you. You find yourself cuddled up in his arms, “I am sorry, I should’ve come looking for you sooner”. You shake your head, effectively burrier yourself closer into his chest. He wipes the last tears from your cheeks and you let out a deep breath. “Better?” you nod and he chuckles, you shake slightly as his chest rumbles. His hands rub soothingly at your sides. “I am going to fall asleep” he confesses, “I can go drink some coffee” he moves to get up but you refuse to move, “I am also going to fall asleep” another chuckle and he kisses the top of your head. “I won’t leave your side, promise you will stay too” he holds out his pinky and you manage a small laugh as you link yours with his.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung knew something was wrong, and he regretted listening to you when you assured him you were fine. The whole journey over to his work he kept playing it over in his head. You had already been out of bed, which for your day off was very uncommon. The bags under your eyes suggested that you had no gotten much sleep at all, he wondered if you ever even joined him in bed after he fell asleep first. And when he did finally get ready for work, you had gone to take a shower and hadn’t been there to give him a kiss goodbye. The texts he sent you during his break had been left unanswered and he couldn’t take it anymore after his last meeting for the day. Leaving early to go back early, regretful of ever even leaving you alone that day. He finds you in the kitchen after haphazardly kicking off his shoes. You had ice cream in one hand, spoon in the other. “What is wrong?” still slightly out of breath and your eyebrows knit together. “I’m sorry” he rushes over “hey, nonono, there is nothing to be sorry about. I am sorry for leaving you. I am sorry for not checking on you last night” a faint smile tugs at your lips. “You were so tired Woo, I didn’t want to wake you” sighing at the back and forth he closes the space between you, wrapping you in his arms. And you let yourself get swallowed up by his love, letting go of the hurt that was keeping you up. He let you take a moment before pulling back using one hand to lift your chin so you would meet his eyes. “I’ll get very annoying if you always bottle things up. I’ll bug you till you get angry If necessary” kissing your nose sweetly to seal his empty threats. He tugs you along to the bed and talks to you about anything and everything to get you to relax just a little more, even telling you an embarrassing story about Seonghwa lint rolling him after a beach day. Your head feels heavy as you let it slump against his chest, and when he finally hears your breathing even out he lets out a breath of relief himself.

Jongho

The house is so quiet that Jongho wonders if you already fell asleep. “Y/N?” He calls out, not loud enough to accidentally wake you up. When he hears a small hello coming from the living room his face drops. Almost tripping as his second shoe doesn’t come off as easy in his sudden rush. Spotting you on the couch, you turn to face him with a smile, but he can tell it’s forced. He stands in silence for a moment studying your face, eyes slightly puffy and the longer he waits the more your façade cracks, till you look back at the TV to avoid his eyes. He didn’t want to interrogate you, knowing you found it hard to open up. Wanting you to come to him when you’re ready. Instead, he takes a seat next to you on the couch, a random tv show is playing on the tv, you weren’t watching it. “Do you want to watch something?” you ask him in such a soft voice his fingers twitch with the need to hold you. Wanting to wrap you in the safety of his arms. “Let’s put on our show” A small smile tugs at your lips and you nod. Going to the next episode of the current show the two of you were following. Jongho got a bit more comfortable on the couch and when he finds his spot grabs you to pull you into his chest. Your back against him as your legs tangle together. He kisses the base of your neck “I love you” he says and it makes you shudder. Tears slowly slipping from your eyes again, no longer being able to hide it from him. Jongho doesn’t say anything else, just pulls you a bit closer with one arm around your waist while the other rubs soothingly at your side.

note: I was sad so I wrote smth comforting, challenge of the day is who did I write when I was crying and who did I write so I could post. And no I did not proof read, that's for future me to be upset about.

#ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez reactions

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ghouljams · 10 months

Note

Your newest Konig post has my mind fuckin GOING. Especially that last line where he says that she has to take off her iron bracelet at some point. I imagine there comes a time where his obsessive ass is quite literally stalking Darling 24/7, day in and day out, waiting and watching for even the smallest second where she takes off her bracelet so he can scoop her up and do whatever his fucked up little heart has been craving to do with her this whole time.

Oh yeah fae!König is absolutely stalking his Darling, he's stalking her since the first moment she looks at him. You think Ghost was bad but he had an alarm on his Darling, he didn't have to stalk her too close. König has to do everything himself, so he's absolutely watching her for the moment she takes the iron off. He has his mark on her now, he's within his rights.

Not seeing König is almost worse than seeing him. You don't think he's left you alone, not with how determined he was to get close to you. You almost miss seeing him hanging around the shop, he's become such a fixture it's weird that he's just… gone. But it's good, he got the message and he's giving you space to cool off.

You lock your apartment door, check it twice, you're not really sure how to guard against whatever König is. He seems to respect the locks though. You toe your shoes off and toss your bag on your designated crap chair. You have another bouquet of half dead flowers to pin to the wall, but you'll do that later. You feel grimy, something came in the shop and you can still feel the stink that came off of it.

You pull your rings off as you walk to your room, tossing them in the bowl by your bed and flexing your fingers. You settle the rest of your bracelets in a neat pile next to them, shaking out your hands from the weight of iron. You finger the bigger cuff, thinking, and decide to take it with you for after your shower.

You wait until you're actually under the warm spray of water to let out the breath you've been holding. Wetting your hair and standing under the water, waiting for it to slough off some of the day's stress. You scratch your neck, fingers bumping the iron chain you'd picked up earlier. Fuck, this thing really didn't like water. You fumble the clasp but finally get it off, setting it with your shampoo. You take another breath.

Wet dirt.

Big hands press against the shower wall on either side of your head. Even if you hadn't seen them you'd know König in an instant. The feel of him, his eyes on you, you could never forget it. His presence is massive, you feel the edges of his mask brush against the top of your head as he leans over you, his obscura falling as he speaks.

"That was a fun game, Schatz, but it's over now," his voice is meticulous, each word weighing on you more than the last. You don't dare turn around, you just focus on keeping your breath even, your eyes steady on a crack in the tiles under the shower head. Your heart beats loud enough you think he can hear it, somewhere between fear and expectation. You've run long enough, he's finally caught you.

"König," you start, unsure where you're going.

"No," he tells you, pressing his lips to his scar on your shoulder, "don't beg, Schatz, not until I tell you to."

His hand wraps around your throat, fingers insistent under your jaw as they tip your head back. His tongue rolls over his mark, making your brain fuzzy and pliant. You know what's coming before his teeth ever touch your skin, and when they do you wail. Every one of his perfect teeth sinking in exactly where they're supposed to. He groans at the taste of your blood, and ruts his hard cock against your back. It's good. It's so good.

You press back against him as he pulls his teeth out of you, turning your head to kiss him. His mouth is dripping red, but it's yours, it's you on him. Oh my god you are- he is really messing you up.

"I have to punish you, Liebling," he murmurs, and you nod against his grip, as his other hand leaves the wall to slide across your waist and dip between your legs, "try not to enjoy this."

#the fae darlings need to form a support group or something damn #also i am not ignoring the fae!ghost ask u sent i am saving it #sitting on it like an egg #this is also where im gonna tag a couple tws #tw dubcon #tw stalking #fae!konig #cod x reader #cod x y/n #konig x you #konig modern warfare #konig x reader #konig mw2 #are we all enjoying fae!konig? are we all having fun with him? i am

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onlyonetifosi · 4 months

Text

Behind the camera -> chapter 6

<- previous series masterlist my main masterlist next ->

author note1: i love them your honor

uthor note2: if you want to be in the taglist comment it or send me a message <3 and i hope you like it

@reveriesources

The week passed in a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation for Yn. Thoughts of the upcoming weekend with Joris filled her mind, and she couldn't help but steal glances at her phone, eagerly awaiting his message. The day finally arrived, and Yn found herself nervously preparing for their rendezvous.

Joris, equally anxious and excited, arrived at Yn's house with a small bouquet of flowers. The doorbell rang, and Yn opened the door to find Joris standing there, a shy smile on his face.

"Pour toi," Joris said, presenting the flowers to Yn. (For you)

Yn's eyes lit up, and she graciously accepted the gift. "C'est magnifique, Joris. Merci!" (It's beautiful, Joris. Thank you!)

As they embarked on their weekend adventure, Yn and Joris explored the beautiful streets of Monte Carlo, sharing laughter and getting to know each other better. The shyness that initially lingered between them began to fade, replaced by a comfortable companionship. Joris had suggested a simple yet charming picnic in a nearby park, and Yn, dressed in a casual yet stylish outfit, met him with a smile.

"Tu aimes la musique?" Joris asked, attempting to keep the conversation flowing. (Do you like music?)

"Oui, j'adore la musique," Yn responded, her eyes lighting up. (Yes, I love music)

They stumbled upon a street performer playing a melodic tune on his guitar. Yn and Joris found a quiet spot to sit and enjoy the music, their shoulders brushing against each other.

"Ça te plaît?" Joris asked, stealing a glance at Yn. (Do you like it?)

"Oui, c'est magnifique," Yn replied, her heart fluttering as she caught his gaze. (Yes, it's beautiful)

The picnic blanket was spread under the shade of a large oak tree, and as they enjoyed the homemade sandwiches and snacks, Yn couldn't help but feel a connection growing between them. The ease with which they talked, the shared laughter, and the occasional shy glances all contributed to an atmosphere that felt special.

The evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city. Joris, feeling a surge of courage, turned to Yn.

Joris, looking both nervous and determined, took a deep breath. "Yn, euh… il y a quelque chose que je voulais te dire." (Yn, um… there's something I wanted to tell you.)

Yn turned towards him, her curiosity piqued. "Qu'est-ce que c'est?" she asked, smiling. (What is it?)

"Yn, il y a quelque chose que je veux te dire," Joris began, his voice tinged with a mix of shyness and sincerity. (Yn, there's something I want to tell you)

Yn turned towards him, her eyes reflecting the fading sunlight. "Qu'est-ce que c'est?" she asked, genuinely curious. (What is it?)

"Euh, je… je t'aime bien, Yn. Plus que comme une amie," Joris confessed, his cheeks flushing with vulnerability. (Um, I… I really like you, Yn. More than as a friend)

Yn's eyes widened in surprise, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Joris, je… je ne m'attendais pas à ça," she admitted, her heart fluttering with a mixture of emotions. (Joris, I… I didn't expect this)

Joris looked down, nervously fidgeting. "Je comprends si tu ne ressens pas la même chose. C'est juste que je voulais te le dire." (I understand if you don't feel the same way. I just wanted to tell you)

Yn's heart skipped a beat as the weight of his words sank in. She looked into his eyes, a mixture of surprise and warmth reflected in her gaze. Y/N's heart raced, and a warm blush spread across her cheeks. She looked down at her plate for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "Joris, I feel the same way. I like you too"

A smile broke across Joris's face, a mix of relief and joy. "You do?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for confirmation

Y/N nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips. "Yes, Joris. I really do"

Joris, summoning the courage he had gathered throughout the day, stammered, "Yn, euh, est-ce que tu voudrais bien être ma petite amie?" (Yn, um, would you like to be my girlfriend?)

Yn's heart skipped a beat, and she looked at him with a mix of surprise and joy. "Oui, Joris. Ça serait génial." (Yes, Joris. That would be great.)

The shy boy's face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy. They shared a quiet moment, savoring the sweetness of the confession and the promise of something new.

As the weight of their confessions hung in the air, an electric tension enveloped them. Joris reached across the table, gently cupping Y/N's cheek with his hand. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, time seemed to stand still.

Unable to contain their feelings any longer, Joris leaned in, capturing Y/N's lips with his own. The world around them faded away as they shared a sweet, lingering kiss. It was a moment they had both been waiting for, a culmination of unspoken emotions.

When they finally pulled away, both were left breathless and wide-eyed. A shared bashful smile passed between them as the realization of what had just transpired set in

"Wow," Joris whispered, his cheeks tinted with a rosy hue "That was… amazing"

Y/N chuckled nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, it was"

Realizing the evening had slipped away, Joris looked at his watch and furrowed his brow. "It's getting late, Yn. I should walk you home, just to make sure nothing happens"

Yn chuckled, appreciating his concern. "That would be nice, Joris"

Hand in hand, they strolled out of the park, the city lights of Monaco beginning to twinkle in the distance. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blossoms and the gentle murmur of their laughter, marking the beginning of a beautiful chapter in their young lives.

taglist: @love4lando @gcldtom @im-mi @topguncultleader @celesteblack08 @reblog-princess @sunf1ower16

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spamgyu · 6 months

Text

Always // oneshot

DESCRIPTION: Sometimes, one man's burden is everything another man has ever wished for.

PAIRING: Mingyu x Reader / Hoshi x Reader

GENRE: Angst (Fluff if you squint really hard)

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Time was the greatest enemy of most couples.

Time apart.

Time together.

After four years of being together, time had allowed them to grow apart instead of growing together. It was inevitable for a person to grow and become a better version of who they were before; including those in relationships. It takes a couple with a strong understanding of one another's wants and needs to be able to survive this constant change; both needing to be able to see eye to eye as time goes.

They allowed their time together to slowly pull them apart.

He never noticed it. No, he was far too oblivious and too busy with his own world to see that time has done far too much damage in their relationship.

She watched the boy she once planned a future with, drift away from her. He no longer made an effort to keep their relationship alive. He used to be such a romantic; planning dates at least once a week despite their busy schedules, showing up at her door with ingredients of her favorite meals and flowers in hand, staying up all night to study with her – despite studying for two different majors.

He had become someone she no longer recognized.

She wanted to be upset with him, but love was a strange thing.

In her eyes, he could do no wrong. Constantly making excuses for each time she was left hanging and disappointed by his lack of efforts.

"What's his excuse this time?" Their mutual friend asked, taking her by surprise. Everyone around her saw her boyfriend's shortcomings, some urging her to break it off to end the constant disappointments.

Pulling her headphones off her head, she greeted him with a soft smile – it was more than enough confirmation for him to know that her boyfriend, his best friend, had forgotten the two's plans to study for the upcoming midterms.

"Want some company?" He didn't wait for her response, taking a seat across from her.

"Thank you."

"Always." He winked playfully, digging in his back pack to pull out two cans of energy drinks and a bag of sour gummy worms.

"Your choice in snacks scares me." She laughed.

He rolled his eyes, opening both cans and placing one in front of her – earning a thank you from the girl. She had always hated opening cans herself, claiming that it hurt her nails each time she tried to do it herself.

"So, where's Mingyu?" He asked, leaning back in his chair.

Y/n shrugged. He hadn't replied to her text letting her know that she had arrived at the library two hours ago. Hell, he had yet to open the message.

Hoshi gave her a look before quickly changing his expression before she could catch the sour look on his face.

He loved his friend, having known him since freshman year, but god was he a fucking idiot.

Hoshi knew not everyone was perfect; especially not Mingyu who was the smartest in their business department. A man who seemed to be able to juggle being a part of the frat board and being a student athlete.

No definitely not even him. He had everything, a supportive girlfriend, a loving family, the brain, even the looks. He just didn't seem to have the right priorities in line.

Though, if anyone were to ask Mingyu, having school as a top priority was the best choice. And y/n was right there to defend him as well.

Even if it meant putting his relationship on the line.

How hard is it to be a business major anyways?

"Okay, I give up. If I don't know it now, I won't know it tomorrow." Y/n exasperated, putting her head down on the table.

The two had managed to put in two and half hours of studying, with a few minor distractions from Hoshi who swore it was for comedic break – that way they wouldn't go mad from all the reading they needed to have done.

"Thank god." Hoshi slammed his laptop shut. "Let's get dinner."

"Mingyu and I made plans." She frowned in apology.

Half way through Hoshi and y/n impromptu study session, Mingyu had finally responded to her text: apologizing for forgetting that they were meant to meet at the library to study for the upcoming midterms. He claimed he had accidentally double booked her with Seungcheol and Wonwoo.

Y/n couldn't help but forgive him, knowing that it was far better studying with those who were taking the same tests as him and accepted his efforts to make it up by taking her out to a quick bite after her own study session with her friend.

Little did he know, it was his friend Hoshi.

Not that this was information he needed to know.

"Ah." He nodded.

"Tomorrow?" Y/n offered.

"If you're buying." He laughed.

"I'll use my free swipe at the dining hall just for you." She joked as she continued to pack up her belongings.

"You're so kind."

"Always."

------------------------

"Hey fucker– Y/n hey." Hoshi walked through the front door of the shared home he and his frat brothers resided in, expecting to be greeted by his housemates who were typically sitting in the living room; screaming at the television over whichever video game they decided to brain rot away with. Instead, he was greeted by y/n who had made herself at the empty home, laying on the couch as she scrolled away on her phone.

Most of the guys' partners were very much welcomed at their home, each having their own set copy of keys. Not that it was needed, considering half of the time the front door was unlocked.

So much for campus safety.

"Mingyu's at an event today."

"Oh." She sat up in her position. "I– thought–"

Hoshi watched as she attempted to hide the wave of disappointment flash across her face, masking it with a quick smile.

"I guess that frees my Saturday, then." She forced out a laugh.

He felt pity for the girl, knowing that his friend must have forgotten to notify her that a few of the boys from the frat board had a mandatory chapter event they had to attend in another city. Again.

"He should be back soon, you can hang around." He offered.

She shook her head. "I– I'll probably just head home. Been here for a few hours."

Of course she has.

"No, come on. I just bought stuff for dinner, just stay." He motioned for her to follow him into the kitchen.

"I mean, I can't say no to a free meal." She trailed behind him. "Lemme know how I can help."

"I'm making katsu curry. Cut some carrots and potatoes, yeah?"

"Yes, chef!" Y/n saluted, heading straight to the fridge to pull out the ingredients.

"I finished The Bear, by the way!" Hoshi beamed proudly. She had previously recommended the show to him a few months back after he had complained that there were no good shows on the streaming services. He was sold after he allowed her to ramble on and on about how she believed Carm and Sydney were the perfect platonic soulmates; going as far as sending him a few clips she found on Tiktok.

"How'd you like it?"

"I think Carm loves Sydney but he doesn't quite know it yet." He hummed, whisking the egg batter.

"No, no." Y/n shook her head. "They just have a great understanding of each other. She gets him, you know? She knows who he is outside of what his family knows of him. She doesn't see him as this ball of anger or trauma. She sees him as a person."

"Exactly. Claire only knows his past, but she doesn't fully understand Carm's deepest thoughts and the man he became after he left Chicago. Sydney on the other hand, knows his wants and needs in the present and future. Not to mention, when he was having a panic attack, it was only the thought of Sydney that could calm him down."

Y/n threw her head back and laughed. "I didn't know you went in full character analysis."

"It's a good show!" Hoshi cried. "You did this to me!"

"I'm still defending the platonic soulmate trope. A guy and girl can be friends without any romantic feelings."

"They can." He nodded. "Just not Carm and Sydney."

"You're insufferable."

"Just wait until season three, I'm going to be getting the last laugh."

"Yeah, we'll see about that." Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "Am I cutting this right?"

Hoshi walked over to her, taking the knife from her hands. "For someone who spent two days binge watching a show about chefs, you're ass in the kitchen."

He proceeded to show her the proper sizing of the vegetables before handing her back the utensil. "Cut them all the same size, dummy."

"Watch it," She shook the knife at him. "I'll pull a Carm and have a mental break down right here."

In the midst of the laughter, while the two busied themselves with prepping the dish – the sound of indistinct voices flooded the once quiet home.

Y/n looked at the direction of the sound, knowing that in just seconds, the group would appear in the room.

"Babe, hey, what are you doing here?" Mingyu asked, with Wonwoo and Seungcheol not too far behind.

Y/n smiled, stopping what she was doing to meet him halfway, leaning into his touch as he placed a kiss on her head. "I came earlier, thinking you were home."

"Were you waiting long?"

"Not really, Hoshi kept me company." She smiled, looking over at Hoshi who had continued to bread the last piece of pork loin – sending over a tightlipped smile and peace sign to the couple.

"Got enough for us?" Mingyu chuckled, eyeing the dish the two had been preparing.

------------------------

It was raining.

No, it was pouring rain.

She was completely drenched; the dress she had spent nearly half an hour steaming clinging onto her body, her make up practically washed away from the downpour.

He had promised her a nice dinner to celebrate her new internship, claiming that he would pick her up from her apartment.

One hour turned to two and she figured he had forgotten yet again, opting to walk over to his place that was no more than a ten minute walk from hers, to remind him of their plans.

She should have known that the overcast that was persistent throughout the day would mean that some precipitation would roll through. Halfway through her journey, the slight drizzle turned into larger droplets of water.

There was no going back. She was nearly there. She could simply dry off and opt for a dinner and movie at home once she reached his place.

She could see his place in the distance. Just a few more steps.

Lost in her own thoughts, the once downpour that beat down on her stopped – looking up at the source of the sudden shade that covered her.

"I've been yelling at you to get in the car for the past minute."

It was Hoshi.

He had been on his way back from work when he had seen a girl walking slowly in the rain that can almost be classified as a storm.

Who would be walking in this weather?

As he approached the figure, he realized that it was y/n; completely lost in her own thoughts. Again.

Pulling off to the side, he rolled down the window to call out for her but it was no use. The sound of the water hitting the ground and cars zooming past drowned out his voice.

Quickly hopping out of his car, he shrugged off his jacket; using it as a makeshift umbrella to cover both their heads. "You know Uber and Lyft exist right?"

"I know, I thought spending $5 was stupid for such a short distance." She let out a laugh.

"Come on." He guided her to the passenger seat, letting out a frustrated sigh once the door was shut.

"Before you say anything, I'm already drenched and I'm on my first day of my period." Y/n said, beating him to the punch once he had entered the car.

He wasn't one to bad mouth Mingyu, knowing that no matter what he said, y/n would have some sort of reason to defend her poor excuse of a boyfriend. But this was the last straw.

He didn't care if he was his best friend.

Mingyu may have been a great guy, a great friend, but he was a terrible terrible boyfriend.

"Can I at least say that he's a fucking shitbag and I hope he fails tomorrow's quiz?" Hoshi grumbled, reaching back to grab a hoodie he had left in the back seat – handing it to her.

"No." She slipped her head through the warm oversize article of clothing, taking in his lingering scent.

"Y/n, you're kidding right?" He deadpanned.

"I know what you're going to say, okay." Y/n put her arms around herself, stopping herself from shivering. "I'll talk to him."

"Good."

------------------------

She never did talk to him.

Not because she didn't want to. She was fully ready to barge into his room, ready to finally lay it all on him. But of course, he wasn't home and Hoshi had no choice but to bring the girl back to her apartment.

He was angry.

No he was beyond that. Hoshi was seething.

If he hadn't made prior plans with Woozi to hit up the gym after work, he would have gladly stayed behind and kept y/n company. But unlike Mingyu, he stuck by his word. Whether this was with someone he was romantically seeing or his friends.

Hoshi was persistent in being loyal to the people he cared most.

Not that this was something Mingyu knew how to do.

"You're fucking kidding me." Hoshi huffed as he wiped away the sweat that dripped from his forehead; watching as Mingyu and Seungcheol stroll into the school's gym – the two laughing at god knows what.

"Where the hell were you?" He wasted no time getting to the point, his voice catching the attention of others who were also preoccupied with their own gym equipment.

"Whoa there, hi?" Mingyu took a step back, letting out a nervous laugh. He had only seen Hoshi worked up once, and it was during last year's chapter meeting when a pledge complained about the rules they had set for the incoming freshmen and pledges.

This particular pledge had been getting under everyone's skin at the time, nitpicking at almost everything that was being said at the meeting. Hoshi wasn't known to be the patient one in the group, but he wasn't one to snap at strangers either – taking their group by surprise when he got up from his seat to yell at the poor kid.

"What excuse did you give y/n this time? Had practice? Studying? You forgot?"

"Hey, keep your voice down, dude." Seungcheol placed a hand on Hoshi's chest, gently pushing him back and away from Mingyu – very aware of the eyes that were now on them.

"What– shit." A wave of realization hit Mingyu, his eyes widening in shock. "Damn it!"

Hoshi shook his head, scoffing at his friend. "You're a shit excuse for a boyfriend."

Now it was Mingyu's turn to be annoyed. Not that Hoshi was wrong. He was a horrible boyfriend; he just hadn't realized it yet.

"My bad, let me just take advice from someone who hasn't had a girlfriend in three years." Mingyu side stepped to avoid Seungcheol, getting closer to Hoshi who showed no signs of backing away.

"I don't need a girlfriend to know you treat yours like she's fucking trash. Everyone knows it. We all talk shit about you behind your back, telling her to break up with you."

"Why? So you can finally get the chance. I don't think so."

Hoshi narrowed his eyes, feeling his fists ball up at his sides.

"You don't think I know about your little crush?" Mingyu smirked, knowing that he was getting inside his head. "We also talk about you. We all know you like y/n."

"Guys, come on." Seungcheol stepped in between the two.

"Punch me. I know you want to." Mingyu egged on.

Hoshi shook his head, not giving into his friend. Opting to walk away – knowing that if he did decide to punch him, he might not be able to hold back from landing a few more.

------------------------

All it took was one call and he was at her doorstep, a bottle of wine and her favorite take out from the campus' local Thai Food restaurant in hand; ready to clean up whatever mess Mingyu had made. Something he seemed to be doing quite often.

"We had a fight." She sniffled on the other line.

Hoshi didn't care if he had laundry he had to fold. He had more important things to tend to.

Y/n.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" He asked, pouring himself another glass.

Hoshi allowed for her to enjoy her dinner, not wanting to pry until she had some food in her system and time to process whatever it was that she and Mingyu disagreed over.

"It was going fine, but– I don't know, I brought up wanting him to put more of an effort and he just snapped. He said sometimes, it feels more like a chore to be with me."

Hoshi began coughing, nearly spitting out the drink in his mouth. "I'm sorry, he said what?"

"He was probably just angry, you know how he gets when he's angry." Y/n shook her head, swirling the drink in her glass – watching the bubbles form.

"You know he just told you that he thinks you're more of a chore than a girlfriend, right?" He said slowly, almost as if he too was attempting to comprehend what Mingyu told her.

"I know I just– I love him, Hosh." Y/n let out a defeated sigh. "You don't think I know how stupid it is to continuously try to make something work with someone who clearly doesn't want things to work out?"

"Good, because I genuinely thought you were deranged for not seeing it."

She couldn't help but let out a laugh at his dry humor. Despite the heartache and disappointment she was currently feeling, she was always grateful for Hoshi's ability to add humor into their serious conversations.

"I think I might be." Y/n sighed, standing from the couch. "Want water?"

"And some gummy worms." Hoshi followed behind, rummaging through her pantry.

"You ate my last bag last week."

"Deranged and broke. Nice."

"I'm going through something here, please be nice." Y/n pouted.

Hoshi watched as she poured the two of them a glass of water, leaning against the counter. He couldn't help but stare at her, something he seemed to allow himself more often than before.

If his friend didn't want to cherish and care for the girl that was right in front of him, why can't he?

"I know you love him, but I don't think that's enough of a reason to stay with him."

Y/n looked over at him, a puzzled look on her face. This was the first time she's seen him this serious. In all the years she had known him, she had always seen him as her friend who provided her comfort through humor – making her smile when her days seemed to be nothing but gray skies.

In this case, it was almost every day.

"You know, you can love someone and not be with them." He continued, taking a step closer to her. "Be with someone who's willing to love you the way you love them."

He was right.

In the past year since she had been with Mingyu, she had been the only one pulling the weight in their relationship. She had been the one to make an effort to reach out, plan dates, show up to all his games, and bring him dinner when he needed to pull all-nighters for upcoming tests.

Love had a funny thing of blinding people. Everyone around her saw that she had been suffering, constantly making excuses for the mistreatment she had been receiving from the man she swore she would marry when the right time came.

He was busy.

He has a game.

His frat had an event.

Because she knew he hadn't always been like this, for the first three years of being together he made sure not a day went by without him making her feel his love for her. They were simply going through a rough patch.

"Be with me."

She felt her whole world come to a complete stop once the words left his lips. Y/n's girl friends had joked about Hoshi possibly having feelings for her. She thought it was simply them poking fun at the fact that they had been spending far more time with each other than she did with Mingyu – arguing that Hoshi was simply just a friend, just as she was friends with Jeonghan and Minghao.

"What?"

"I– I've liked you since freshman year." Hoshi swallowed. There was no turning back now. He had laid out all his cards and he was going to go all in. "From the moment Jeonghan introduced you into the group– you– I wanted to do something about it but Mingyu got to you first and I–"

He was stuttering over his words, unable to put his thoughts into one comprehendible sentence. "I kept my distance, and I was doing so well– but he fucked up and I can't stand back and watch him continuously break the heart that I know I would have held so carefully if I wasn't so fucking scared three years ago."

Y/n could hear her heart beating in her ears as she tried to process his sudden confession. She wanted to say something, she really did but she had become confused – because a part of her was happy to hear him say these words.

Somehow, over the time she had spent with him, all while her boyfriend was far too busy pre-occupied with his own life, she had grown to see Hoshi in another light. He was no longer just her friend who she called when no one else was available, happily obliging to her requests to accompany her to the grocery store, stay up late to finish the homework she had put off until the last minute, or simply watch movies at her apartment .

He had become a part of her daily life, getting excited each time she saw his name appear on her phone and looking forward to any time they made plans to hang out.

Y/n had unintentionally fell for her boyfriend's best friend – a sudden wave of guilt washing over her.

"I- we can't. You know we can't." She felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach at her realization.

This can't happen. Especially not with him.

He shook his head. "I'm not asking for anything right now. Look– I'm sorry for putting you in a tough spot, I've stuck around this long and I am willing to stick around however long I need to."

"I'm sorry." Y/n hung her head. No matter how much Mingyu has fucked up, she couldn't help but hold on to the hope that he would go back to the same person she had originally fallen for.

Maybe it was love or maybe it was Stockholm Syndrome.

"Hey, hey– fuck." Hoshi pulled her into a hug. He had done this many times, but somehow this time felt different. He felt her melt into his arms, pulling her tighter when he heard a muffled sniffle against his chest. "Sorry I– I'm here. As a friend or whatever you need me to be. I don't care, I'm here."

"Always?" Y/n she looked up at him, apologetically. She knew she couldn't give him what he wanted – not right now, at least.

"Always." He nodded.

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