#but again this man is so awkward it’s like a curse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

teapartyprincess4two · 17 hours

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Call Out My Name- J. Webber

pairing: OFcreator!reader x CoStar!Jake

classification: angst, smut

inspiration: request1, request2, Call Out My Name by The Weeknd

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, mention of online sex work, use of y/n, jealousy, slight cursing, Daddy kink, arguing, possessive!Jake, FWB (kinda?), slapping, cream pie, camera usage, somewhat pervy/ gross side character, smoking & alcohol

summary: When you film a video with somebody else, Jake’s jealousy takes over.

—

Your whole life you’ve been known to tell a good lie. You’ve never been necessarily sneaky, you’ve just always been a good actress; a good pretender.

That’s why it’s easy to pretend that Kevin, the man on top of you, is making you see stars. He’s jabbing his penis inside of you like a double edged sword, managing to make every angle less pleasurable than the last.

You put on the performance of a lifetime, but only because the cameras are rolling. A red, blinking light stares back at you to taunt you; to let you know that it’s not over until he’s done.

So, you arch your back off the bed, kiss all over his body, wrap your legs around his waist, chanting words you don’t mean. Words along the lines of, “It feels so good,” “Just like that,” and “Faster! Harder!”

The whole time, as Kevin pounds into you at an ungodly, un-pleasurable pace, all you can think about is Jake. Jake always managed to make you feel good even when the cameras were off. Yet you somehow always find yourself under subpar men.

A loud grunt, and a sweaty forehead against your shoulder pulls you out of your trance.

“Holy fuck that was good!” Kevin groans, his voice choppy as he attempts to catch his breath. His entire body collapses on top of yours, suffocating you under his weight.

This is your grand finale, the big show!

You let out a high pitched moan, claw at his back, and shake beneath him (as much as his weight will allow you) as you praise his hard work.

“So good! Fuck! I’m coming!”

You sit in the moment for a while, uncomfortably adjusting yourself under Kevin as the camera continues recording the awkward silence.

Finally, when you decide this entire interaction needs to end, your palms press flat against his shoulders to push him off of you. His body rolls onto the opposite side of the bed, chest still rising and falling rapidly as he comes down from his high.

You throw on a robe and walk over to the camera, turning it off and looking expectantly at Kevin. He smirks at you, misreading your expression completely.

“Already ready for round two?” He chuckles. “Couldn’t get enough of the stallion, huh?”

He stands up and begins walking over to you while stroking himself, ready to engulf your frame in his arms.

You scoff, picking his clothes up from the floor and shoving it into his chest. “Let’s see how many views this gets. Then I’ll think about it.”

Kevin wears a dumbfounded expression as you kick him out of your house. You’re definitely NEVER collabing with him again, no matter the views.

—

Loud music bumps through the club speakers. A cold drink sits in Jake’s hand, the same drink he’s been nursing all night.

All week he’d been looking forward to a night out with his friends, but now that he’s actually here, he’s not sure he’s enjoying it as much as he thought he would. Maybe it’s just because you haven’t arrived yet.

Kevin stands across from him, retelling stories that everyone is only half-listening to. For as long as Jake has known him, he’s hated Kevin. Everything from the way that he walks, talks, dresses, and even the way that he name drops all of his collabs.*1

As an online sex worker, Jake knows that collaborations between creators are no strings attached and meaningless (for the most part at least). But as Kevin says your name, and describes in detail how good the sex was, Jake can’t help but feel jealous.

“I had her in every position you can think of,” Kevin boasts, holding his arms out as he thrusts the air. “I don’t think I’ve ever made someone cum that fast either,” he continues, pretending to slap ass as he continues his gross display.

Jake scoffs, unintentionally gaining Kevin’s attention.

“Jake! You’ve filmed with her before, right?” Kevin asks.

Jake’s done more than film with you, but he’s not the type to show off. “Yeah, we’ve collabed here and there.”

Kevin jabs Jake’s side, “So you know how tight that pussy is then.” Jake’s heard enough, he shoves Kevin away from him and downs the drink that was still in his hand.

He sucks in through his teeth, slamming the glass onto a nearby table before pushing his way out of the club. “Fuck’s his problem?” Kevin says in confusion, watching as Jake disappears outside.

Jake doesn’t know why he’s so upset, or even why he’s jealous in the first place. He knows you’ve had sex with people other than him, it’s literally your job, but for some reason it gets under his skin ever time.

The thought of you under another man —even if it is just for work— and enjoying it makes him see red. Sometimes he wishes your relationship wasn’t so transactional, that he could have you all to himself even when the camera wasn’t rolling. But he’s forced to accept the fact that what you two share is purely business.

Jake now stands outside of the club, back against a rough brick wall as he tries hard to think of anything other than you. He pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, craving the burn that smoking brings him to distract his mind. He’s quick to light the stick and take a long drag from it, blowing in the general direction of an approaching figure.

The street is dimly lit, causing him to squint his eyes until you finally come into view. It’s almost like his jealousy summoned you.

Immediately you notice Jake, excitedly skipping over to him as quickly as your tight leather dress will allow you. “Got one for me?” you ask, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at his cigarette.

You look so happy to see him, but his face doesn’t mirror your expression. He’s quiet, trying to keep to himself as much as possible before his mind inevitably reminds him of Kevin’s words.

He pulls another cigarette out, watching as you place it between your lips and wait for him to light it for you.

“How come you’re not inside?” you ask through puffs of smoke. Jake can’t stop looking at your lips, reminiscing on all the times you wrapped them around his cock while a camera was pointed at your face.

“It was getting loud in there,” he replies simply, before mindlessly continuing, “Plus I couldn’t listen to Kevin keep talking about how good it felt to fuck you.”

You grimace at the mention of his name. “Kevin’s here?”

Jake’s jaw clenches, fingers flicking the cigarette onto the floor. “Don’t sound too excited,” he scoffs with an eye roll.

What the fuck? You choke on the smoke, coughing loudly as you reply, “I’m not?”

“Whatever, let’s just go inside. Everyone’s been waiting for you.” Jake’s pushes off the brick wall, ready to walk past you and into the club, but you stop him by standing directly in his path.

“Move, Y/n,” he grits, stretching his neck out to avoid eye contact.

“No. Why are you being so pissy?”

“I’m not. Now move.” Jake tries walking around you, but you just scoot over and block him again.

“Jake,” you say sternly, trying to pull his attention to you, he’s upset and stubborn. “Look at me.”

Finally, he meets your expectant gaze, and the look in his eyes is one you’ve only ever seen during sex. “C’mon, wouldn’t wanna keep Kevin waiting,” he grumbles, a clear displeasure evident in his tone.

Finally, it clicked.

“Are you jealous?” You tease, chuckling slightly. His expression shifts from annoyance to embarrassment, mostly because he never thought you’d catch on or that he made it so obvious.

“You’re jealous!” You exclaim, trying hard to hold back your laughter. Once again, he scoffs, but he’s terrible at hiding his embarrassment.

“Aw Jake, don’t be jealous,” you tease.

“Video did get a lot of views though.” It’s true, the video brought a lot of traction to your account, but so did every single one of your other videos.

An idea pops into his mind at the revelation, but you don’t give him time to respond before you’re turning on your heel and excitedly walking into the club.

—

All night you’ve been working towards making Jake more jealous than he already was. All you had to do was stand close to Kevin, chat him up a bit, and pretend to be interested in whatever he quipped back. Kevin was definitely getting the wrong idea, but if it got you closer to Jake, it didn’t matter.

Jake’s eyes have been glued to you from the moment you entered the club, trained on your every move. His blood is boiling, his jaw is clenched, and his fists are bawled.

He needs to come up with an excuse to get you alone as quickly as possible, just so you two can make a video of your own. Honestly, he’ll be content for some alone time with you even if the camera isn’t involved.

Jake watches in jealousy as your hands grip Kevin’s bicep, supporting yourself as you throw your head back in laughter. Surely Kevin isn’t that funny.

Kevin’s arm manages to escape your grip and slither around your waist, his hand resting on your ass before squeezing it. You know Jake’s watching, so you let Kevin put on a show.

When Kevin slaps your ass, loudly and proudly, Jake decides he’s seen enough. So, he walks over to you without a real plan, but he’s being fueled by rage and jealousy.

Jake leans down in front of you, whispering into your ear, “Meet me in the parking lot.”

You struggle to hear him over the music and Kevin’s hold on you makes it hard to scoot in closer to him.

“What?” You whisper shout.

“Meet me in the parking lot,” Jake repeats, gritting his teeth and sending an unreadable look towards Kevin.

He’s quick to dismiss himself from everyone else, bidding his goodbyes as he walks out into the parking lot. As you watch his brooding figure disappear, your thighs subconsciously clench together. For some reason, the miserable, possessive aura that radiated from him was causing a heat to grow within you.

After some minutes, you make up an excuse as to why you need to leave. Something along the lines of, “I have an early day tomorrow.” Luckily, no one questions your excuse, or the way you giddily skip out of the club, not even Kevin.

When you exit the building and round the corner into the parking lot, you spot Jake leaning against the hood of his car. A cigarette sits between his lips, the lit end blinking with each inhale.

“No Kevin?” He says with a sly grin.

You cock an eyebrow at him. “I can go get him if you want?” You turn on your heels, pretending like you’re going to walk back into the club.

“I was kidding,” he grumbles, pulling your body into his roughly. You slam against him, your crotch hitting his already erect member.

Jake’s arms wrap around your waist, both hands landing on your ass. He squeezes firmly, massaging your skin repeatedly.

“Why’d you call me out here, Jake?” You ask, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt.

“You know why,” he hums, applying pressure to your back until you’re basically grinding.

You decide to tease him, knowing that he’s so unbelievably horny that it’ll work him up even further. “I don’t know why, Jake. Care to explain?”

He’s still grinding himself into you, his breath becoming heavy with every passing second. Jake’s mind is going crazy with the thought of you on the back of his car, camera in your face, praising every inch of his body.

Jake’s head falls onto your shoulder, mouth latching onto the skin of your neck in a soft, sloppy attack of kisses. “Just thought we could… you know, make a video of our own,” he murmurs against your skin.

You want to give in, to take him right there in the middle of the parking lot, but you know that the further you push him, the greater the reward.

“We’ve made enough videos. They don’t bring in as many views as my other ones…” you say, stifling a moan. It’s a lie, but he doesn’t have to know that. Your videos with Jake are easily the most popular on your account.

“… As my videos with Kevin.”

Jake’s lips come to a halt, hands becoming stiff on your ass.

“Yeah?” Jake says.

“Yeah.” You reply, a stubborn underlying tone in your voice.

He unlocks his car, opening the back seat. “Get in.”

“What?” You laugh, slight confusion written on your face.

“You heard me,” he growls.

As you begin crawling into the backseat, his hand lands a firm slap on your ass.

“We’re gonna see how many views we can get you.”

—

Even though this is what you’ve wanted all night, now that you’re in the backseat of Jake’s car, you feel nervous. You’ve filmed videos like this before, yet you feel like a virgin anxiously awaiting to be touched.

Because you’re in a car, you have none of your camera equipment, so you’re wondering what Jake will record this on.

“C’mere,” Jake murmurs, catching sight of the way you anxiously play with the hem of your dress. “What happened to all that confidence?” He teases as you make your way onto his lap, finding a comfortable position over his crotch.

Instinctively, you grind onto him, but his hands are quick to stop you. “Uh uh. I’m in control, baby.”

“You were acting like a stupid brat. You think brats deserve to be rewarded?” He asks, pulling his phone out of his one pocket. You don’t answer, but you don’t have to because he does it for you, “They don’t. They get punished.”

The phone’s flash shines in your face, a clear indicator that he’s started recording. Suddenly, you become shy, because even if this is what you do for a living, it always feels more vulnerable and real with Jake.

A shocked gasp escapes your lips as he swiftly maneuvers you so that you’re lying across his lap. Your tight dress has managed to ride past your hips at this point, providing Jake the perfect view of your ass which he gladly captures on camera.

“You know what happens to brats, Y/n?” Jake asks, his unoccupied hand massaging your thighs and ass.

Your voice is squeaky as you try not to get lost in the feeling of his hands all over you, “Mmm— No.”

Suddenly, he delivers a quick slap to your bum. You weren’t expecting it, and you’re so lost in the moment that all you can manage to do is squeal.

“You like that?” He taunts, focusing the camera on the red handprint that’s forming on your skin. You bite your lip and nod your head, batting your eyelashes at him. Not only did you know that this would rile him up, but you actually did like that.

“Fucking brat,” he grits. Jake’s hand lands on your ass again, only slightly harder than before. The sting courses through your body, eliciting the smallest moan from you.

He delivers another slap. “I won’t stop until I know you’ve learned your lesson.” Slap.

You cover your mouth, attempting to muffle your moans and whimpers. But it’s no use, you’re enjoying this much more than you’d care to admit.

If it weren’t for the wetness that formed in your panties, you might’ve allowed this to continue all night. But, as he continues delivering slap after slap, all you can think about is the erection that is poking at your stomach.

So when he proposes the question, “Have you learned your lesson?”

You’re quick to reply with, “Yes. Yes, Daddy.”

The pet name flips a switch in Jake. It’s the first time anyone has ever referred to him as that, and he’s instantly addicted.

“Say it again.”

You crawl back into his lap, sitting right above his crotch. Your fingers weave through his hair and tug the strands.

Slowly, you lean close enough for your lips to graze his. “I learned my lesson,” you whisper, “Daddy.”

“Fuck,” he whimpers. Suddenly he doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to remain in control. There’s something about the way the word sounds coming from your sultry voice. It has him weak.

You grind onto his cock as you connect your lips with his. The kiss is sloppy, needy, and tastes of desire. Jake’s completely forgotten about the phone, tossing it to the side and allowing his hands to roam your body.

His strong, rough hands travel from your ass to your boobs, pulling the dress down until your breasts are free. He hungrily latches onto your nipples, sucking and nipping at the sensitive buds until your head is thrown back in pleasure.

Your body continues gyrating against his, the material of his jeans providing you with the slightest relief. It still wasn’t enough, though, you needed to feel him, all of him.

You pull his face back up to yours, capturing his lips in another heated makeout session. Moans and groans are swallowed by the kiss as his tongue slips into your mouth. You’re breathless, but the kiss is so much better than oxygen.

One of your hands behind palming him through his jeans, fumbling with the button and zipper in an attempt to free his cock.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you beg against his lips.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you so good,” he grunts, watching as you pull his pants down. Jake’s cock springs free, precum already leaking from the red, swollen tip.

As you pump him slowly, spreading his natural lubrication along his shaft, he uses one of his fingers to pull your panties to the side. The fabric pushes against your clit and is soon replaced with his fingers as he circles the bundle of nerves rhythmically.

You’re quick to position yourself over his cock, sitting on the tip momentarily before sinking down on it completely.

“Jake— fuck!” You moan, throwing your head onto his shoulder. Jake’s size always manages to overwhelm you.

You’re about to start bouncing on his dick, but he stops you with strong hands on your waist.

“That’s not my name.”

Rutting your hips in response earns you yet another slap to the ass.

“Don’t be a brat. Say my name,” he growls.

You clench around his girth, desperate for some sort of relief as he continues to hold you in place.

“Say.” Slap. “My.” Slap. “Name.” Slap.

Your asscheek is red and stinging, the need growing deep within your core. “Jake?” You tease, feigned innocence laced in your voice.

In an attempt to reposition himself, he bucks his hips upwards into you. You whimper at the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix.

“Wanna act stupid?” He asks, mostly to himself. He grabs the long forgotten phone, its flash once again illuminating your exposed body. “I’ll fuck you stupid then.”

In one swoop, Jake lays you on your back in the backseat. Your tits jiggle against the fabric of your dress that’s pooled beneath them, an excited giggle being the only thing keeping you from moaning.

“You won’t think shit’s funny when I’m done with you.”

His large hand slithers up your body, wrapping around your neck as he begins pounding into you relentlessly. Small hands wrap around his wrist as you try adjusting to the feeling.

He’s fucking you so fast, so good. Muffled and strained moans ring through the car, harmonizing with the sound of his skin slapping against yours.

Jake’s still pointing the camera in your face, capturing your fucked out expression perfectly. He expertly angles the camera down to your wet cunt, biting his lip at the sight he’s met with. His length plunges in and out of you repeatedly, squelching as it’s coated in your slick.

“Jake— I—,” you stutter through your words, the euphoric feeling of his dick suffocated between your walls clouding your mind with lust.

He pulls out of you completely, immediately missing the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him, but he needs to teach you a lesson.

Your hips lift from the leathery cushion beneath them, chasing his cock in a hungry haze. You whimper and claw at the wrist that’s wrapped around your throat, begging desperately for him to stuff you again.

“Say my name,” he commands. Your nose scrunches in indignation.

His grip on your throat loosens, that same hand traveling down to his aching cock. Jake teasingly traces the tip along your cunt, earning another hip buck from you.

“You know what to do, baby,” he teases.

“One word will give you everything you want.” He slaps the tip against your throbbing clit. You want to continue playing this game, but you know you won’t last long.

You sit up, propping yourself up on your elbows. The camera has the perfect view of your face and your pussy that clenches around nothing.

Your eyelashes bat against your cheeks as you bite your lip. “Please, Daddy. Please fuck me.”

As soon as the pet name leaves your mouth, Jake is diving back into you in a hungry frenzy. The force pushes you back onto your back. His pounding thrusts have you seeing stars, his tip kissing your cervix each time.

“Was that so fucking hard?” He grunts. One of his hands grips your waist, providing him with the leverage necessary to continue fucking you deep and hard. The other hand, is focused on filming every beautiful second of this. From the way you look wrapped around him, to the way your mouth falls open because of the sheer pleasure coursing through your veins.

His grunts bring you closer to the edge, especially when mixed with the filthy words that fall from his lips. “Did Kevin fuck you this good? Did his dick have you squirming and whimpering like this?”

You’re too fucked out to respond, causing Jake to pound into you even harder than before. “Hmm? Did he?”

“No, Daddy. No one fucks me this good— fuck!” Your eyes screw shut as he fucks you at a particularly delicious angle. “Only you do, Daddy. Only you.”

You feel your climax approaching quickly, so you slither your hand down to your clit. Your fingers rub circles into the sensitive bud as you chase your high.

Jake’s orgasm must be close too because his hips stutter and his movements become sloppier, a string of curse words and moans melodically falling on the skin of your neck.

“I’m coming!” You squeak.

Your legs convulse and shake as your orgasm washes over you, your core clenching around Jake’s cock as he continues pushing and pulling inside of you.

“Fuck. You feel so good, baby. So, so good,” he praises as your plushy walls continue clamping around his dick.

He’s so unbelievably close, all he needs is to hear you say his name one last time. “Say my name, baby. I’m so close.”

You chant the pet name like a mantra, kissing his sweaty chest and shoulders repeatedly to help him reach his orgasm. He loves the way you say it and would gladly listen to you say it forever if he could.

Jake’s hips snap into you one last time as hot, sticky ropes of cum paint your insides. A breathy, animalistic moan racks through his body as he collapses onto you.

For the first time in a long time, the weight of a man’s body on you doesn’t feel suffocating. Instead, it feels comforting and you’d love for him to remain this close to you for as long as possible.

But, unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. So, as you both recover from the powerful orgasms that just surged through your body, he pulls out of you slowly.

You immediately miss the feeling of him inside of you and as he turns the phone off, you find yourself wishing you were still under the spotlight, because maybe then the moment would last longer.

You sit up and adjust your dress. “Hope you got your footage,” you comment, attempting to sound nonchalant. “It’ll get a lot of views.”

Jake pulls his pants up, sending you a bewildered look. “You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m sharing this,” he chuckles.

Your brows furrow in confusion, a slight twinge of embarrassment painting your expression. “Was it not good enough?”

As you await his response, you crawl into the passenger seat. He follows suit shortly after, joining you in the driver’s seat.

“Was it not good enough?” He scoffs, restating your question like it’s an insult. “It was too good.”

A blush forms on your face. You don’t know what it is about Jake that always makes you feel like a giggly teenage girl.

“It was too damn good, baby. And Daddy doesn’t like sharing.”

Instinctively, your thighs press together. He always managed to rile you up within seconds.

“You’re mine, don’t forget that. I’m greedy,” Jake states.

You nod your head slowly.

“And whatever Daddy wants, Daddy gets.” His right hand rests on your thigh as the other works the steering wheel. *2

“Yes Daddy,” you whisper, earning yourself a squeeze. If it meant he’d fuck you like he just did, you were going to continue calling out his name.

—

MASTERLIST

a/n:

okay so I’m writing Arranged CH.2 rn, but this idea just came to me based on the two requests (linked). Also, I need a smut break tbh I NEED TO WRITE SOMETHING FLUFFY AND/ OR ANGSTY. which is what Arranged is perfect for 😏

I’m trying to gain the motivation to write frequently again so I can post more, but it’s a process. I’m getting there guys.

Thank you my sweet anons for these reqs (linked), hope you enjoy!!!

- L.A.M.B 👼🏻💗

—

1* Kendrick V. Drake, thoughts? Personally, I’m team Kendrick 🤔 the songs are too damn catchy

2* I know he says “whatever daddy wants, daddy gets,” as a joke, but let’s pretend he says it to get us all worked up. okay? Okay.

—

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 2 days

Text

The Distance part 2

Note: follow up to part 1!

Warnings: just fluff! a bit of angst maybe, but very light.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Sihtric picked you up from the airport.

wordcount: 2k

Masterlist

While you anxiously waited to collect your bags at the airport, Sihtric was chewing off his nails while he stared at the arrivals door. He was so incredibly nervous, he had never felt anything like this before. Everything had been arranged so fast that he barely had any time to even process that you were really coming over to see him, and it had only hit him once he arrived at the airport. Part of him wanted to turn around and run back to his car, but the other part of him told him he had to man up, because meeting you was something he had been dreaming of for years and there was no way he was getting cold feet now.

Sihtric had been nervous ever since he left his house, but he had gotten even more nervous with every step he took towards the entrance, wondering if you were going to be disappointed once you met him. Because maybe you expected him to be taller, or shorter for some reason. Maybe you didn't like his shoes, which were simple black leather boots, or maybe you hated his dark grey cargo jeans. Or maybe you thought his white shirt looked stupid on him or, even worse, maybe you thought he didn't smell nice. He discreetly tried to get a whiff of his own scent and just hoped he didn't stink.

And then he suddenly worried that maybe you'd think he looked better through a screen, or that maybe you'd hate his messy hair in real life. Sihtric cursed himself when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a window, realising that in all his suppressed nervousness he had completely forgotten to comb his hair before jumping in his car. He quickly raked his tattooed fingers through his dark locks, in an attempt to look a little more decent, while he entered the airport and tried to get a grip on himself again.

And while Sihtric was slowly driving himself mad, with his eyes fixated on the arrivals door, you tried to freshen yourself up a little in the toilets after you had collected your luggage. You took a few deep breaths as you looked in the mirror, and you suddenly felt yourself crumble on the inside. You were overwhelmed with nerves and horrible thoughts. Because what if he suddenly realised he wasn't attracted to you in real life? Or what if the chemistry just wasn't there or if it was just incredibly awkward and you both just couldn't get a conversation going? You also became concerned when you realised you didn't know what you were supposed to do once you saw him. Was he expecting you to run to him? Would he want to kiss you immediately or would he not want to do that at all? What if he only shook your hand while you tried to go in for a kiss? You groaned at these thoughts and tried to fight your tears while you dragged your hands down your face.

Sihtric had meant everything to you these past seven years, and if things would not go as you had both expected it would truly be a bitter pill to swallow, and you didn't know what your life would look like without him. And neither did Sihtric. Because despite the fact you had never met, you both had plans for the future that involved each other or were simply built around each other, and neither of you ever even considered the option of a future alone or with someone else. There was no backup plan if this first meeting would ruin everything.

You took another deep breath and composed yourself as best as you could, and when you checked your phone you saw Sihtric had texted that he was waiting for you. Surprisingly enough the airport wasn't as busy as you had expected, and then you finally made your way through the arrivals door.

You froze for a split second when your eyes immediately landed on Sihtric, who looked straight at you while he stood there wide eyed and with his hands in his hair, as he had been anxiously waiting for you to appear and had almost lost his mind while doing so. And Sihtric swore he just couldn't remember how to breathe anymore when he saw you, and he was completely nailed to the ground. He always imagined he'd run up to you, pick you up his arms and spin you around while he kissed you, but he just wasn't able to move an inch in reality. He saw how you stared at him as you approached him, your eyes just as wide as his, and he finally managed to slide his hands out of his hair once you were almost in arms reach.

'Sihtric,' you almost gasped.

And Sihtric tried to speak, but he couldn't make a single sound. You dropped your bag and suitcase on the ground as soon as he suddenly reached out, and you wrapped your arms around his waist while he wrapped his strong arms tightly around your shoulders and held you almost bruisingly.

As soon as Sihtric had wrapped his arms around you, he knew he would never be able to let you go anymore. To let you go home, that meant. He could never let you go back home again, for as soon as he felt your body pressed against his he knew he would never be able to breathe again without you. He knew he would never be able to fall asleep again without you next to him. And he just knew his life would never be the same anymore when he felt how you buried your face in his chest, and he then suddenly remembered to breathe again.

You cried as you enjoyed his tight embrace, feeling as if you were home in his arms and you inhaled his scent deeply. The smell of amber was soothing and suited him absolutely perfectly, and it calmed you as well as making you feel a little lightheaded. It was a scent you would never forget and also one you never wanted to miss again. You clung onto him as if you were afraid you'd be torn away from each other at any second, and Sihtric shared the same frightening thought.

And as he was overwhelmed with the idea of losing you now that he finally held you, his trembling hands searched for your face while his vision was blurred due to his teared up eyes. Once found, he cupped your cheeks firmly to lift your face up, in order to bring your lips closer to his so he could finally capture you in the kiss he had been dreaming of for almost seven years. Without any hesitation, you pressed your lips back against his, and your hands fell from his waist as you lost your ability to think for a moment. You then slid your hands slowly up his torso, feeling his muscles from underneath his shirt while moving your hands up to his neck before sliding further up and into his loose hair.

You tangled your fingers into his slightly wavy hair while his hands still held your face, and he deepened the kiss as soon as he felt you melted into his touch and relaxed entirely. You felt his tongue as he slowly flicked it against your lips, before allowing him fully into your mouth, and the minty taste on his tongue was a pleasant one you desperately wanted to taste more of. You both forgot how to breathe this time as all you wanted was to taste and feel each other, until your lungs almost burned and you were both forced to pull away.

'My love,' Sihtric whispered as his tears fell, your face cradled in his hands while he leaned his forehead against yours, 'I'm sorry it took us so long.'

'I'm sorry too,' you sniffled, your fingers curling around the neck of his shirt, 'but life kept preventing us from meeting sooner.'

'I know,' he sighed softly, 'but we're together now, and I'm never letting you go anymore.'

You both smiled before your lips found their way back to his again, and you kissed once more until your lungs begged for air and you suddenly remembered you were in public. Sihtric then picked up your luggage with a satisfied smile, teary eyes and his cheeks a hint of red, and he wrapped his arm around your waist as he walked you out of the airport and to his car. But you didn't get there without stopping a few times just so he could kiss you again and again, dropping your bags out of his hands numerous times in order to cup your cheeks while he kissed you, or to roam his hands all over your body.

Sihtric refused to let you carry your own bags, which you tried to do after each head spinning kiss when he had dropped everything once again. You smiled when you reached his car, recognising the vehicle as you had seen it in uncountable video calls over the years. You watched how your boyfriend picked up your luggage with ease, putting it in the trunk of his car, and without thinking you placed your hand on his bicep after you saw his muscles flex when he closed the trunk. Sihtric froze for a second and frowned upon the sudden touch, but an amused grin appeared on his face when he realised you were just admiring his body, and he definitely didn't complain about you touching him. In fact, you could touch him wherever you wanted to, he wouldn't stop you. And he kissed you again with that thought on his mind.

You put on your seatbelt as Sihtric sat down behind the wheel. He exhaled sharply while he stared straight ahead for a few seconds, and he then turned to face you. He leaned in and smiled, and placed his hand on your thigh as he looked deeply into your eyes.

'Hi,' his voice so low and smooth, as well as a little breathy.

'Hi,' you smiled shyly.

'How are you?' he asked and leaned in closer to peck your lips.

'Good,' you murmured against his lips before you kissed him back.

'Yeah?' he asked and kissed you again.

'Mhm. And how are you?' you barely managed to ask in between kisses.

'I'm good,' he smiled against your lips, 'so good, darling. How was your flight?'

Sihtric kissed you again before you could answer.

'It was good,' you chuckled.

'Good,' he smiled and kissed you once more, then leaned back slightly, 'are you hungry? Or do you want to get a drink? I can stop by a place if you want.'

He gazed into your eyes while awaiting your answer, but when it became evident you weren't going to answer and instead just stared at him, he fought a smile as he furrowed his brow.

'Baby?' he asked as he held your chin.

'I… I'm sorry,' you suddenly snapped out of getting lost in his mismatched eyes, 'I… I can't seem to think right now.'

Sihtric laughed softly and nuzzled your nose, then kissed your lips again.

'I know,' he said, 'I'm sorry. Everything is overwhelming for me too. I guess I'll just take you home right away.'

You nodded in agreement and, when he kissed you again, slowly flicking his tongue against your lips, you took his face in your hands to deepen the kiss until you both were insanely aroused but didn't dare to say it. And when you leaned back to look at him, you smiled at each other before you pushed a strand of hair behind his ear, and you then lightly traced the scars on his face while you continued to gaze at him.

'You're so pretty,' you whispered, 'so beautiful. Even more perfect than I'd thought you'd be.'

Sihtric blushed lightly and smiled, returning the compliment while he tried to hide his teared up eyes as he looked down at his feet for a moment. And after a dozen more kisses, Sihtric finally started the car and placed his hand on your thigh while driving back home.

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love-kurdt · 1 day

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Now That We Don't Talk (byler): 2

word count: 15,023

warnings for this chapter: homophobia, parental disownment, very graphic imagery presented in a nightmare (car crash, blood and dying), underage drinking, sexual content, assault/rape. this is semi-autobiographical so pls be kind <3

in short, if you are emotionally or mentally vulnerable, pls dni.

“Uh… hey. I’m– I’m Will. Byers,” I stuttered out, shoving my hands in the pockets of my khaki pants. Matt blinked back at me for a second, as if he were processing what I was saying over the deafening music. Should I have been a little bit louder?

“H–fuck,” Matt swore, plucking a pair of plastic fangs from his mouth and tossing them somewhere behind him. He cleared his throat and shook his head, his eyes shut tightly. Had I met my awkward match? “I’m so sorry, let me start again,” he smiled, extending a hand out to me. “Hi. Matt Winters, nice to meet you.”

I took his hand, hesitantly shaking it. Of course he had the same initials as Mike. Of fucking course, out of all the people at this party that my friends could’ve introduced me to, he–

“Sorry, I’m not sure how to do this,” Matt confessed, looking a bit flustered. “I, um… I wasn’t really expecting to be, you know, set up with anyone tonight. If you aren’t able to tell, I’m pretty nervous, because you’re really cute, and I’m afraid I’m fucking this all up–”

“No no no, you’re fine! We’re on the same page,” I told him, placing a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. “I’m personally kind of terrible at starting conversations, so… you’re good, I promise. And, um, you’re pretty cute yourself.” And he was. He was lean, and stood at around six feet tall, at my best estimate. He had dark eyes, full lips, an adorable nose, a light stubble across his jaw, and beautiful olive undertones in his skin.

“Thank you,” Matt said as he shifted back and forth on his feet a few times. He was probably struggling with how to progress the conversation, just like I was. I felt unsure as to if this should’ve been considered a blessing or a curse, because yes, we understood each other, but on the other hand, coming up with new subjects was neither of our strong suits.

“So,” I said with the most serious expression on my face that I could muster, “Come here often?” Matt laughed at that, and the sound of his laughter alone set a thousand butterflies free in my stomach.

He then leaned into my space to respond to my question: “I’m not much of a party person, so, not really. My best friend, Riley, is dating your DM, and they apparently arranged this… thing… a few days ago.”

“What ‘thing’?” I asked, and cocked an eyebrow.

“Where you and I… you know,” he replied with a light shrug.

I shook my head. “I don’t, actually.”

“Um…” Matt trailed off, and I quickly glanced over his shoulder to see Ivy making out with Hannah against a wall across the room before focusing back on Matt. She clearly wasn’t available to potentially come to my rescue if things went south. I really hoped that “you know” wasn’t code for “have sex.” It wasn’t that I was afraid to have sex per se, or that I didn’t want to; it was just that I wasn’t into the whole idea of one night stands or hookups. If I was going to have sex, I’d want to be in a committed relationship with the guy I was with.

Before either of us could figure out how to salvage this uncomfortable dialogue, a very familiar bass and drum introduction blared out of the PA system stationed in the corner of the living room.

“Oh, thank God, saved by The Cure. I fucking love this song,” Matt sighed loudly in relief at “Just Like Heaven”’s high pitched, organ-esque synth lead. Any doubts or reservations I was having about this man were melting away by the second.

“Really? Same here!” I exclaimed, and Matt nodded.

“Yeah, they’re one of my favorite bands. I saw them live last year, and I was never the same.” He raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck, and I gawked with wide eyes.

“I will forever be jealous of you. Robert Smith’s lyricism is unmatched.”

“You’re so right,” Matt nodded along to the beat, reaching out to hold my hand in his. “And who knows? Maybe we can go to one of their shows someday.” Was this even real? What did I do to deserve this? Did I deserve this? I’d have to stick around to find out.

“Someday. Maybe,” I found myself replying, holding onto Matt’s hand a little tighter. We’d figure out the whole intimacy situation later. In the meantime–

“Wanna… dance? Let’s dance,” Matt said, pulling me by our connected hands into the middle of the crowd of people before I could manage to protest. And claustrophobia be damned, I didn’t feel like I was going to implode. Not when Matt’s hands gripped my waist. Not when my hands slowly moved from his chest, up and around his neck. Not when we swayed back and forth in a slow dance to an upbeat song. Not when our eyes met, and Matt’s nearly black irises got impossibly darker, but in the most comforting way possible. Not when Robert Smith ended his phrase, “I’ll run away with you,” the guitar top line began again, and one of Matt’s hands gently caressed the side of my face before pulling me into a soft kiss.

I couldn’t believe this was happening. I was kind of worried about it being so soon after meeting him, but… I didn’t hate it. Not at all. I didn’t hate it so much that I pulled him in even closer, swiping the tip of my tongue against the seam of his lips, deepening the kiss. He let me in immediately, and suddenly our tongues were sliding against each other, and oh my God, this was my first time making out with someone, wasn’t it? Was my kissing okay? Was I doing this right? Was I–

And then I felt Matt moan against my mouth, and his grip on my hips tighten, and I knew I had a generally good idea. He ran his hands up my torso and through my hair and it was like I forgot how to breathe. "Just Like Heaven" was still playing, but I could barely hear the lyrics anymore; just mine and Matt’s simultaneous inhales and exhales, the obscene sound our lips were likely making, and our friends’ unanimous screeching in the distance. They’d been watching us, the little shits. They definitely succeeded in their mission, I’d give them that. We pulled away from one another, but not too far, as he leaned his forehead against mine, his thumb brushing my cheekbone.

“I’m not into one night stands or hookups,” I blurted out immediately. I felt heat rise to my face at my brashness. Was I sabotaging my only chance at happiness? I had probably already ruined what we had with my sky-high expectations. But before I could backtrack, Matt merely pecked my lips again with a chuckle.

“That’s perfect. Because neither am I.”

I stared up at him in awe, brushing some hair away from his eyes. “Are you real?”

“Who even is real, nowadays? We’re all just figments of the material plane, if you think about it,” Matt replied, and I couldn’t think of anything else to say, so I rose up onto my tiptoes and kissed him this time. He melted into it instantly, and I felt like I was going to die of pure joy.

“Wanna go somewhere that’s not your place or mine?” he asked once I pulled away. I searched his face for an impending “just kidding,” or a “no homo, bro,” but found nothing of the sort. This was real. Matt Winters liked me, no mind fuckery included.

“Yeah, let’s go,” I said. Matt only grinned as he took my hand in his once again, leading me out of the crowd and out into the crisp October night, laughing the whole way to his car.

“So,” Matt said, leaning his forearms on the surface of the tabletop that separated us. “Will Byers. Tell me ten things about you, go.”

We’d driven around for a few hours, listening to music and ranking our top twenty favorite bands, and it turned out that we had a lot in common. We eventually got hungry and ventured into a twenty-four hour diner. It was about twenty minutes away from campus; a very run-down place with dim lighting and 70s wood paneling, but Matt swore the food there was to die for, so I had to try it for myself. He was very, very right; I would have believed it if someone told me the grilled cheese and tomato soup combo I ordered had been laced with crack.

“Okay,” I nodded, trying to conjure up all of my generic fun facts. “Um… I’m from Hawkins, Indiana… I have a brother named Jonathan who’s four years older than me, and a stepsister named El, but I honestly just refer to her as my sister. I love D&D and I’m part of the club here, I love to read musician biographies, and sometimes the occasional cheesy romance– you know, the ones with the abs on the cover, I’m a freshman painting major, I love to sing, but I’m awful at it–”

“Now I’ve gotta hear that singing voice of yours,” Matt declared.

I shook my head vigorously. “Not a chance.” But then Matt gave me puppy eyes. Damnit.

“...Fine. Maybe after our fifth date.”

“I’m holding you to that, Byers.”

“Anyway…” I felt a smile involuntarily spread across my face. Who even was I? I’d truly believed that I would never be able to smile again after the series of events that went down in August, but here Matt was, making smiling feel so natural. “What number was I on?”

“Six, going on seven.”

“Alright, so I–I’m not much of a drinker, but when I do, it’s usually straight up liquor. Like, shots. If I’m gonna consume alcohol, I’m gonna suffer while doing it. That way, I won’t end up liking it too much. Don’t want to end up like my…” I stopped myself from elaborating further, mentally kicking myself for revealing too much of my life, “…father.”

Matt crossed his arms and slouched back into his seat, seemingly unsurprised. “Your father’s an alcoholic, then?” he asked.

I looked down momentarily at my hands, where my knuckles had gone white while clasping them together for dear life. “Something like that,” I shrugged. “He usually had beer and whiskey, so I steer clear from those, and just do shots of vodka or tequila. I know that’s not any better, but I think that if I were to drink beer or whiskey, I’d feel…” I grimaced at the thought, “more like his son than I’d prefer.”

Matt leaned forward once more and reached out to separate my hands with his own, holding them instead. I glanced down at our intertwined fingers, then back up into Matt’s eyes, and felt my face go ablaze with furious flames. “Gotcha,” he nodded solemnly as he rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand, “I admire you for distancing yourself away from the path to becoming like him. That alone takes an incredible sense of…”

“Of what?” I asked, withdrawing my hands from his in order to take another bite of my grilled cheese.

“Would it be corny if I said ‘Will-power’?” Matt glanced at me sheepishly, and I had to hold in a laugh as I chewed.

“Incredibly,” I replied. “Although, you’re not the first one who’s said that.”

“Damnit. Who beat me to it?”

“My friend, Dustin,” I smiled at the thought of my friend. I should call him soon, I thought to myself. I miss him. “He’s always had the weirdest names for things.”

“Like what?” Matt asked, and I froze. Like what? Like… Watergate? Demodog? Vecnapocalypse? I couldn’t tell him about any of those things without sounding like a total psychopath or violating the conditions of my NDAs.

I settled on a simple, “... I forgot.”

Matt snapped his fingers, disappointed. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” I nodded in agreement, then lifted my eyes up to his again with a small smirk. “But I know for a fact that I’ll remember something at, like, 1am and call you up to tell you about it.” Matt let out a chuckle at that, and I frowned in confusion.

“Sorry to break it to you, hon…” Matt replied slowly, testing out the new name on his tongue, making me blush, “but it’s 1:32am.”

My eyes widened at that. “No fucking way.”

“Way.”

“We’ve been here for, what,” I checked my watch, just to verify how long we’d been seated in the diner booth, “four and a half hours? And I still barely know anything about you!”

Matt chuckled. “We’ve gotta finish the list of ten things about you, first!”

“Not my fault you keep distracting me.”

I could hear the smile spreading across his face as he said, “I’m distracting, now, am I?”

“You are,” I admitted.

Matt narrowed his eyes and stroked his chin in feigned suspicion. “Interesting.”

“Okay,” I took a deep breath, pushing the conversation forward before I got too flustered and lost my train of thought once again. “So… Hawkins, Jonathan and El, D&D, books, my major, singing, alcohol, my father, Dustin–”

“Dustin doesn’t count,” Matt said.

“He does, too!” I insisted, letting a little bit of my inner child seep through the cracks of my adult persona.

“Fine,” Matt relented with a slight eye roll, “But only because I like you.”

Well, that was very forward of him. It wasn’t too out of pocket, given the fact that I’d literally made out with him not even ten minutes into knowing his name, but listening to a guy openly admitting his romantic feelings for me without any form of hesitation was something I had yet to get used to. I spent years hiding my own feelings, and Mike… fuck Mike. “I like you, too,” I told him, and I felt a sense of… accomplishment? This year’s Moving On Award recipient is… Will Byers, from Mike Wheeler to Matt Winters! Cue the fanfare, confetti, et cetera.

“… And that’s ten.”

“Really?” I shook my head in confusion. “What was ten?”

“That you’re into me.”

“Oh,” I said with a slight eye roll at my own stupidity, “Yeah. I guess that was ten things.”

“And that’s my number one. I like you,” he nudged my foot with his under the table with a smirk, “I have severe ADHD, I had a dog as a kid and named him Swayze— he was a pomeranian. I’m a senior material studies major because I can’t make decisions to save my life. I have a passion for writing and have this dream of writing and illustrating my own stories someday–”

“Woah, me too!” I interrupted, and Matt’s eyes lit up in surprise.

“No way, you write as well?”

How to Explain The Status of Your Co-Writing Relationship with Your Ex-Best Friend Who You Were in Unrequited but Not Actually Unrequited Love With, All Without Mentioning His Name for Dummies would’ve been pretty useful right about now. “Uh… no. I used to work on silly comic books with some of my old friends, but I only illustrated. Someone else did the writing.”

“Cool,” Matt nodded in approval.

“I have no idea what's gonna happen next. But, whatever it is, I... I think we should work together. I think it'll be easier if we're... we're a team. Friends. Best friends.”

“Cool.”

“So, uh—” Fuck, I hadn’t even realized I’d spaced out. “That was five, right?” Matt asked me, and I nodded, taking a sip of my Diet Coke. How long did I dissociate for? This hadn’t happened to me in months.

“My favorite subject back in high school was Home Economics,” he continued. “Frankly, I think the skills taught in that class helped me out in life way more than any trigonometric equation ever could. I smoke grass regularly, but hate cigarettes.” Now I had a valid reason to quit smoking. Not like I should’ve been smoking underage to begin with, but that was besides the point.

“I love virtually anything Stephen King, I’m a coffee connoisseur of sorts since I work at a café, and…” Matt leaned his elbow against the table and rested his head on his palm, deep in thought. “If I were to live anywhere in the world for the rest of my life, it would be Israel.”

I raised a quizzical eyebrow at that. “Why Israel?”

“I have some extended family there, in Tel-Aviv. I went to Jerusalem a few summers back, and… fuck, that city is beautiful. I’ve been there only once, but there’s something about exploring your religious heritage in the place it originated is so surreal.”

“Wait, you’re Jewish, too?”

“Yeah. I actually grew up in an Orthodox home, but my parents were really loose with the religious laws and shit. But when I came out as gay, I guess… all of the rules suddenly mattered. They cut me off, like, seven years ago,” Matt told me, pressing his knuckles into his palm one by one with his thumb. “Which, now that I think about it, I’m not sure if spending the rest of my life in Israel is the most logical idea I’ve ever had–”

“You said you’re a senior, right?” I asked. Matt nodded curtly. I did the mental math, and came to the conclusion that either I was horrible at simple subtraction, or… “You were cut off while you were a freshman in high school?”

“Yup.”

“Wow, I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for you. I’m so sorry.”

“Eh, I was better off,” Matt said with a resigned shrug. “I lived with my now-ex, Hayden, for the rest of high school. His parents were so supportive. It made me jealous sometimes. But they ended up being more influential on my life than my own parents had ever been capable of being.” As he spoke, I couldn’t help but let my mind drift to my own mom and dad. The opportunity to disown me was right there in front of them, and yet, they hadn’t thought twice about accepting me when I came out to them. I was glad that Matt at least had Hayden’s parents to lean on. That was, until they broke up. So did that mean that he didn’t have any family at all?

“I kind of don’t want to ask this because it sounds pretty fucking shallow in comparison to what you just told me, but… why’d you two break up?” I asked hesitantly. Matt dismissed my self-consciousness with a wave of his hand.

“You’re totally fine, it’s a valid question. I’m completely okay with sharing, too, if you’re worried about that.” It was like he was in my head. “I didn’t really want to break up with him, honestly. But he insisted that since he was going to Utah for college and I was going to Illinois, long distance wasn’t feasible. I just wanted him to be happy, and for us to end things on a high note, so… I let him go. After I did, though, I was so hesitant to get back into the dating scene. I couldn’t picture myself loving anyone else. He taught me what love was.”

I knew how that felt. I told him so, and he chuckled softly before resting his head on the palm of his hand. “We’re a lot alike, I think,” he said as he glanced up at me, sparkles dancing in the umber shade of his irises. “Aren’t we?” Damn, Matt knew how to make a man swoon. I was falling harder for him by the second, and I wasn’t in any kind of rush to slow down.

“I’d say so, yeah.”

“Good, I’m glad you agree,” Matt said. “Because for the first time in a long time, I can see further than a few days into my future.”

The rest of the night went by faster than either of us could believe. Once the sun had begun to rise, we’d left the diner and headed back into the city. Matt insisted on kissing me at every red light. For years, I’d held onto the belief that I wasn’t worthy of romantically-charged physical contact, yet here Matt was, openly willing to give it to me. So I happily obliged, because what the hell, I hadn’t received affection like this in my whole life.

Matt drove us to McKinley Park, and we walked around hand in hand for a little bit longer until both of us were yawning in the middle of every other sentence. We found a nearby bench and I checked my watch, and saw 08:43 flashing back at me. I turned to look at Matt, who was stifling yet another yawn, and I couldn’t help but giggle at the complete lunacy that was this twelve hour date.

“The exhaustion has finally caught up with us, huh?” I teased.

Matt exhaled, leaning his head against my shoulder. “Yeah…”

“I don’t want this to end, though,” I admitted.

Matt hummed into my tee shirt in with assent before muttering, “What if it didn’t have to?”

I shrugged, causing Matt to lift his head back up so our eyes could meet. “I don’t know what you’re alluding to,” I began, “but I’m still not sleeping with you–”

“I never said anything about that–”

“...Yet.”

“I don’t know what you’re implying, but I was planning on simply sleeping.” Matt smirked, continuing on with the comedic bit, despite my confession of being open to having sex with him in the future. “As in, a synonym of slumber, snoozing, s–”

He was being so adorable, I couldn’t take it anymore. I reached up to hold Matt’s face between my hands before pulling him in and firmly pressing our lips together. I felt him gasp against my mouth in surprise, and I realized then that I was the one initiating the kiss this time. And that felt fucking amazing.

“God, times were easier when those people kept their filth behind closed doors,” I heard a voice say from a few feet away. I let go of Matt and turned to see three men standing together in denim biker jackets in front of the bench we were sitting on.

“What did you just say?” I asked, moving to stand up.

“I said that the world was better off when fags like you weren’t shoving your ideologies down our throats,” I felt Matt tug on my arm as if to say No, don’t feed into it, they’re not worth it, but I was so beyond done with being mistreated that standing up to these idiots felt like a walk in the park… literally.

I approached the men and rested my hands on my hips, popping one out for added Gay Emphasis. “I know of another thing that I could shove down your throat, but I don’t think you’d like it all that much.” They stared back at me in stunned silence, but I wasn’t done with them yet. “So if I were you, I’d back the fuck off and mind your own business. I know a good lawyer.”

They didn’t need to be told twice; they immediately fled the scene, leaving me feeling satisfied and Matt shellshocked. I turned back to ask if he was okay, only to be grabbed by my biceps and pushed against a tree a few feet away. And suddenly Matt’s tongue was down my throat. It only lasted for a second before he pulled away, his eyes wild. “That was so hot. Will,” he whispered, reaching up to hold my face in his hands. “That was so fucking hot, c’mere–” I let out a giggle as Matt kissed my neck once, twice, and then moved back to my lips, swallowing the moan that escaped my throat. It hit me then that we were still in public.

“Okay, okay,” I lightly pushed him away, much to both of our disappointment. “Let’s go before we actually get hate crimed.”

I opened my eyes to a popcorn ceiling. I despised popcorn ceilings. I bolted upright, processing this unfamiliar room in a slight panic. When I was met with red walls and a poster of the album “Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me,” by The Cure, I remembered where I was; Matt and I had gone back to his house after spending twelve hours together. I was in his bed, and he wasn’t there with me. He really had been serious about respecting my wishes, and took the couch.

I flopped down onto my back and turned my head so my cheek rested on the pillow I’d slept on. I breathed in and could immediately identify Matt’s scent; pine and a faint hint of lavender dryer sheets. God, yesterday was a whirlwind. And to think it all started with Shaggy and Dracula.

I turned my head to look out the window to see that the sun was almost set. I’d slept through the entire day. My sleep schedule was definitely going to be fucked up for a while. Honestly, though, if I had to choose a twelve hour date with Matt Winters or a healthy circadian rhythm, I’d choose Matt. There was no doubt about it; I’d fallen hard, and fallen fast.

After letting myself wake up a little more, I pushed myself off of the mattress and wandered out of Matt’s room, down the hall, and into the living room, where Matt was still asleep, a little bit of drool puddling on the decorative pillow below his head. He was an adorable sleeper. As if he could hear my thoughts, Matt’s eyelids fluttered open slowly and I was greeted with a shy smile.

“Mornin’” Matt rasped out.

“Try evening,” I replied with a low chuckle.

Matt stood up from his spot on the couch and made his way over to me, lifting a hand to push a piece of hair out of my face and behind my ear. “Did you have a nice sleep?”

“Yeah,” I said. Matt intertwined his free hand with mine.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked me. I nodded in lieu of a response, and then I was being pulled in and kissed like Matt’s life depended on it. I was so happy. I was so damn happy that I started smiling into our kiss, effectively breaking it. I looked up at Matt to notice that he was grinning as well, and we broke into a fit of giggles before leaning into each other again and falling, falling, falling… right into Matt’s bed.

“This is getting awfully hot and heavy” Matt muttered against my lips, and I groped his ass as he hovered over me.

“Yeah,” I agreed with half my mind turned to putty, and he grinded down against me, eliciting a moan from the both of us, “It is.”

“You wanna stop?” Matt asked, and I pulled away, thinking I’d made him feel uncomfortable. He must have seen the worry on my face, and was quick to reassure me otherwise with a light peck to my lips. “I mean, I don’t want to stop, but… I want to respect your boundaries. I won’t do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”

“Matt,” I said, relishing in the sound of his breath hitching following my mention of his name, “I’ve never felt this way about a guy in my life. It’s a crime that we just met a little less than twenty four hours ago.”

With a surge of bravado I didn’t know I even had, I flipped us over with a grunt so I was the one on top, bracketing Matt in between my arms. He looked up at me in a haze, his eyes filled with pure lust.

“So I say fuck it.”

I’d just gotten back from Painting I, where Miriam had made the announcement that The Heart had been selected for a display in the lobby of the Admissions office building. I was glad that others were able to find joy in the piece I’d spent hours upon hours in emotional turmoil over. After class, I headed back to my dorm and called Lucas. We’d started up a routine of calling once a week, if not every two weeks. Dustin and I spoke a little less frequently, but we thankfully had that kind of friendship where we could go a while without talking and pick up right where we left off. El and I spoke almost daily. I heard the ringback tone go through a few times before Lucas picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hey Lucas, it’s Will,” I said.

“Hey, man! How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been alright, you?”

“Same here, pushing through,” I heard the sound of a door slamming in the background. “Oh, hey babe, Will’s on the phone if you wanna say hi! Max just got in from PT.”

“Give me the phone, stalker,” I heard Max say, and I smiled as I heard the phone shuffling between their hands. “William. My dear.”

“You let her call you William?” Lucas shouted from a distance. “You never let me call you William.”

“You don’t let me call you Lukey Poo,” I replied, and I heard Lucas tut in disappointment.

“There’s a huge difference between the connotations of William versus Lukey Poo. I’m gonna let you decide which one is degrading.”

“Touché.”

“So how are you?” Max asked me.

“I’m good.”

“Woah,” Lucas complained, “so with me you’re just alright, but with Max, you’re good?”

“Same thing.”

“Barely.”

“I’m alrood,” I laughed, leaning back onto my comforter. “Or galright.”

“God, you sound like Dustin,” Lucas huffed. He wasn’t… not right about that. “Wait, I’m gonna dial him in, hold on.” There was a brief silence, followed by–

“Lukey Poo! My brother!”

“For God’s sake, not you, too.”

“God is dead, Luc-ass Puke-Ass.”

“Brutal! Will, help me out here.”

“Will? You’re in Cali?”

“Nope, still in Chicago. Hey, Dusty Bun.”

“Would you look at that, the Party’s back together again!” Lucas exclaimed. “Well… minus Mike, of course.”

“And El,” Max added.

“Yeah, and El,” Dustin repeated. “How is she, by the way?” Classic Dustin, always asking about El. Maybe Mike had been right in Letter #24 when he mentioned the possible chemistry between those two.

“She’s good,” I replied. “The program she’s in at Vanderbilt is kicking her ass, but she’s kicking theirs right back.”

“Oh yeah, I bet,” Dustin gushed. “She’s so determined and committed, though, so I believe it.”

“Yeah,” Max agreed.

“Has anyone heard from Mike?” Dustin asked, and I felt my mouth go dry.

“No, he hasn’t picked up any of my calls this month,” Lucas said.

“Mine either,” Dustin sighed. “Will, have you tried calling him?”

Friends don’t lie. “No.”

“Why not?”

Why would I was on the tip of my tongue, but I bit it at the last second, opting to reply with, “I think he’s just busy, guys. I heard the writing program at U of Indy was pretty rigorous.”

“For a kindergartner, maybe!” Lucas snorted. ”Plus, Mike’s always been some sort of prolific author prodigy! It should be a piece of cake for him!”

“Right?” Dustin grumbled. “I’m so confused. He just… vanished out of our lives.”

“Will, what if you tried calling him?” Lucas asked me hesitantly before adding, “He’s always had a thing for you.”

“What?” I shot up into a sitting position, unable to comprehend what I had just heard.

“Yeah, I gotta admit, buddy, you lost me there, too,” Dustin said.

“I just mean he’d probably pick up if he knew it was you,” Lucas explained, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “You and Mike have always been closer with each other compared to the rest of us.”

I exhaled extra heavily, hoping they’d pick up on my reluctance to do what was being asked of me. “I don’t know.”

“I sense some tension,” Dustin remarked. I could see his wiggling eyebrows from all eight hundred and forty-nine miles away. “What are you not telling us?”

“Nothing! Just–” I cut myself off with a groan. “Fine. I’ll call him. But I’m telling you guys now that he’ll probably be like this with me too.” They were completely fine with that. Of course they were. Because they loved to see me suffer, apparently.

We ended the call about half an hour later, and I found myself still sitting on my bed with the receiver in my hand. Was I really debating upon whether or not I should call Mike? Yup. Was it a bad idea? Probably. Was I going to follow through with it? That remained to be seen.

“To call or not to call,” I whispered to myself, “That is the question.” Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing, end them. To die.

No. I couldn’t do it. Not yet.

Midterms came and went, and suddenly, it was Thanksgiving break. Matt and Riley had invited the rest of our D&D Party to spend Friendsgiving at their house, but I had to decline. I knew that if I didn’t come home for the holidays, I would never hear the end of it from my family and friends back in Hawkins.

I had yet to tell my family about Matt. It wasn’t like I was intentionally withholding the information from them. I was just so busy between finishing The Heart, organizing D&D campaigns with Kate, and making out with my boyfriend that when I did have time to talk to my family, the conversation was pretty surface-level. But now that we were all in the dining room together, digging into Mom’s kick-ass mashed potatoes, I’d figured that this would be a good time to bite the bullet.

“Guys… I have some news. It’s, uh… it’s pretty important.”

The sound of everyone’s forks on their plates stopped mid-scrape. I took a shaky breath. This wouldn’t be too difficult; coming out was the worst of it, but I was still anxious as to how everyone would take the news that I was actually dating a boy.

“What about, sweetie?” Mom asked.

“So… I might have a boyfriend.”

“Might?” Dad grumbled, stabbing a piece of broccoli with his fork. “So, what, you have half a boyfriend?”

Mom scoffed. “Hopper, for Christ’s sake–”

“We’re Jewish, Joyce.”

“For Christ’s sake–”

“Mom! Dad! Let him talk,” El cut Mom and Dad off, nodding at me to continue. “You were saying?”

“I have a whole boyfriend,” I playfully rolled my eyes. “We’ve been dating since the beginning of this month.”

“I’m very happy for you, Will. You deserve this,” my brother said in earnest, and I tried not to get choked up. He’d really been there for it all, hadn’t he? He’d seen me fall in love for the first time, and helped me through all of the grief and heartbreak that followed.

“Thanks, Jon.”

“So what’s this boy’s name?” Dad asked.

“Matt Winters.”

“Matt Winters,” El repeated, her eyebrows furrowing as she processed this new information. She shifted her gaze back up to me. “And you like him?”

“Um… I wouldn’t be dating him if I didn’t like him.”

“So why didn’t you invite him here for Thanksgiving?” Mom asked, looking almost offended if it weren’t for the wide smile on her face. “You know we have no problem with hosting guests!”

“Yeah, I know. That’s not the reason why I didn’t invite him, though,” I grimaced. How could I explain that Matt wasn’t anything like Mike, and that I wasn’t sure how they’d react to me dating someone new? How could I explain that I still wasn't exactly completely over Mike yet, and taking Matt home to Hawkins with me would have felt a little bit too… soon for me?

“I don’t know,” I continued, “I… I just… I want to make sure the guy I bring home for holidays is someone I’m one hundred percent serious about. And I’ve only been dating him for, like, less than a month, not to mention he’s my first boyfriend ever! Cut me some slack!”

“So I guess you could say that this Matt is out of your… Wheelhouse,” Jonathan muttered, and El snorted. He just had to go there, didn’t he?

“Hmm,” Dad stroked his beard in thought. “I wonder if that tall glass of water of yours is back in town yet.”

“No, please, not this again,” I whined, putting my head in my hands as discussion about Mike Wheeler broke out at the dinner table. This had been a common occurrence throughout all of high school. Everyone in my family had convinced themselves that Mike reciprocated my feelings, and that we would eventually get together.

El and Jon teased me endlessly whenever I came home from Mike’s place, and forced me to recount every single second we’d spent together. Mom was a meddler; she’d always find ways to get Mike over to our house for family meals, and made it a point to emphasize the word family with the implication that he was a part of it. When Mike asked me to senior prom, that was the icing on the cake for Dad; I think he even made a chart after that. Dad was both my biggest cheerleader and my biggest comfort, especially when I told him about what happened after I found the letters.

But that chapter was over.

I cleared my throat, and everyone stopped talking, turning to face me. “Matt is really great, guys,” I said in a low voice. “And yeah, he’s not Mike, but… at least give him a chance, will you? I’ll bring him home during Spring Break, and you guys can meet him then.”

The fall semester had finally come to an end, and of course, we had to party about it. Matt had arrived at my dorm room to pick me up, and when Aaron noticed us kissing in the doorway, he had more than a few choice words to say to and about us. I’d played it off like I usually did, claiming it wasn’t a huge deal, but I had been dealing with Aaron’s bullshit for months now. It was like he was an ice pick, chipping away at my soul as if to say, “Let’s see how much verbal abuse Will can take before he shatters!” This was the breaking point for me. So when we got to the party, I drank. And drank. And drank.

I’d somehow lost track of Matt’s whereabouts, and found myself standing in an alley next to the building where the party was going on. There was a payphone stationed near the entrance of the alley, so I decided to take a little trip there and use the rest of my spare change to make a phone call.

“Hello?”

Was that Mom? Holy shit, it was Mom! I knew she was small, but I didn’t know she could fit into a pay phone! How did she know I was there?!

Oh, wait, I thought, I called her. She isn’t actually inside the pay phone, idiot… Why did I call her again?

“Hello?” I heard her ask again. Fuck, I already forgot she was on the phone.

“Mooooom. Mommy. Hi,” I slurred, leaning against the wall. I thought right then that I’d have been perfectly content melting directly into the concrete.

“Will,” Mom said, her voice getting all hushed and concerned, “Are you okay?”

“Yup!” I proclaimed to the empty alley. My voice echoed all the way down to the other end. “I’m faaaaantastic. Just a lil’ drunk, though.”

“I can hear that, honey.”

“Is Dad there?” I asked, wrapping the metal cord around my wrist. I briefly considered what it would be like if I ever decided to introduce handcuffs into mine and Matt’s sex life, and I swore I gave myself heart palpitations just by thinking about it.

“Dad is passed out on the couch and snoring like a trucker,” Mom replied, pulling me out of my filthy, filthy thoughts. “Why? Do you want to talk with him?”

“No,” I shook my head, looking around to make sure I wasn’t holding up a line or something. I most definitely wasn’t. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t… I don’t know, ruin your night or something. Fridays are usually your movie nights.”

“Oh, we already watched our movie a few hours ago, some easily forgettable rom-com.” I could hear my mom’s smile as she spoke. I loved seeing my mom so happy ever since she married Dad. It was like she’d been brought back to life. “Now I’m just reading in the big blue arm chair, and so it’s just you and me.”

“Perfect,” I said, turning around and leaning my forehead against the brick and mortar in front of me, “Cuzzz I gotta-lotta-say.”

“... You sure you’re okay?” Mom asked, and I hummed in substitution of a “yes.”

“I’m suuurrreee,” I closed my eyes and grinned at the sound of my drawn-out syllables, but they snapped open again at the memory of standing in my old living room being yelled at by a very similarly-sounding drunken voice. “An’ I promise ‘mnot an alcoholic. I don’t wannanduhlidah,” I said, and lifted my hand up, extending my index finger to emphasize my point. I heard my mom lightly snicker on the other end of the line.

“Can you repeat that?” she asked me. “I’m having a little bit of a hard time understanding you.” Fuck. I must have been really drunk for her to not have understood me. God, I really was turning into my–

“Hmm… d’ya think I’ll end up like Lonnie?”

“Baby, are you kidding me? You are nothing like Lonnie.”

“He usedta drink a lot. A looooootttttt. Remem…emm…mer? An’ he alwaysssaid I’ll never be a man. He called me a fairy. A fa—“ I felt my voice crack as emotions took over my psyche, and I silently cursed myself for still crying over my dad over a decade later.

“Will. I want to make myself very clear,” my mom told me, and I stood up a bit straighter. Unlike me. “He’s less than half the man that you are. You are an incredible, talented, sweet young man. Being gay doesn’t negate any of the great qualities you have.”

“I’m a teeerrrible person,” I said, and mouthed along with my mom’s predictable reply.

“You are not a terrible person.”

“But what about what I did to Mike?” I whined.

“You did what you needed to do to protect yourself, baby. He’ll understand that eventually.”

“But what if I made a misssTAKE?”

“Only time will tell. It’s never too late to call him.”

“Yeah.” I looked up and noticed that at one point or another, Matt had joined me in the alley. How much of the conversation had he heard? Hopefully not too much. “Hey, mom?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, honey,” Mom replied. “Now make sure to go hydrate. Stay safe, okay?”

I nodded, realized that she couldn’t see me nodding, and provided verbal confirmation this time around with an, “Okie. Byeeeee.” I was so drunk. I hung up before turning to face my boyfriend. “Hey, babe,” I greeted him with a shit eating grin on my face. He was so so cute. Adorable. Gorgeous. Hot. Sexy. Edible. “Where have you been? You having a good time?”

“I’ve spent the past fifteen or so minutes looking for you!” Matt said, scuffing the soles of his Converse against the gravel that lined the sides of the alley. “Was that actually your mom?”

Well, duh, I thought. Who else would I call ‘mom’? Well, besides Steve, obviously. “Yeah! She said to say hi to you for her, by the way.” That was a total lie, but it would keep the tone light.

Or so I thought, because Matt had one more question for me. It was the one question that I’d been dreading ever since we’d started dating. “Who’s Mike?”

I was way too intoxicated to have this conversation right now. I met Matt’s eyes for a second, shook my head and battled my way through a choked, “We used to be friends. But he’s dead to me now. You have nothing to worry about,” before keeling over and violently throwing up onto the ground.

“Alright, sweetheart, we’ve gotta get you back to the dorms. You’re absolutely wasted,” Matt coaxed me to stand up and threw one of my arms around his shoulders. “You mind if I ask Pete for backup? I don’t think I can get you home by myself.”

“You calling me fat, Winters?”

“I think we both know they don’t call you Buff Byers ‘cause you’re fat, Will.”

“Waiiit a minute, who told you about the Buff Byers thing?”

“I have my sources.”

A few minutes later, we’d successfully located Pete within the sea of people he’d been dancing with, and we had to bribe him with twenty dollars to get him to leave the party and help us out. We said goodbye to everyone else on our way out, but right before we reached the door, I recognized the song blasting from the PA system and shouted, “I fucking love this song!” The song in question was “There is a Light That Never Goes Out,” by The Smiths. I happily drawled along with the lyrics to the song as my friend and boyfriend practically carried me down the street and back to the dorms. The singing didn’t stop when we reached my dorm hall, or when they dragged me up the stairs, or even when they fished through my pockets for a solid five minutes, trying to find my keys to let us in.

“And if a tennn tonnn truuuck… kills the both of us… To die by your siiide, well, the pleasure, the privilege is miiine,” I murmured the last chorus, getting a bit emotional as I watched Matt take off my Vans and help me into bed. He was too kind to me. I didn’t deserve it.

“Vecna would’ve had a field day with you…” I sighed, which resulted in a confused chuckle from my boyfriend. My sweet, sweet boyfriend who had no idea about what I’d been through, or the damage I was capable of. So much for my NDAs. I could just blame it on the alcohol if he asked about it later. Matt tucked me in under my comforter, brushing my bangs off my forehead and pressing a kiss there.

“Alright, lover boy, sleep tight.”

I was in the passenger seat of a car, and the road was dark, save for the headlights that lit the road in front of me. I looked down at my hand, which was being held by a very familiar and large hand. My eyes lifted up to see Mike in the driver’s seat, tapping the steering wheel with his fingers to the beat of some synth pop song that was playing out of his car radio.

“Mike?” A smile graced his features as I said his name. He didn’t take his eyes off the road as he rubbed a thumb over the top of my hand. What the hell?

“Yeah, baby?” This was pure insanity. There was no way he’d actually called me–

“... Baby?”

“What is it, love?” Mike replied so casually that I wanted to scream. But I pushed my emotions back down, settling back into the passenger seat and pretending like this was a totally normal occurrence.

“... Nothing,” I muttered, the fingers of my right hand picking at one of the rips on the knee of my jeans. “It’s just…”

“Will, we’ve been together for, what, five years now. Don’t tell me you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘baby.’”

Five years. Jesus Christ. “No. No, you’re fine,” I said.

“Good,” Mike grinned before bringing our joined hands to his lips to kiss the back of my hand. “I love you.” My head was spinning.

“I love you, too,” I heard myself say without even thinking about it. Okay, this is officially a dream, I thought. This is way too good to be true.

We continued on down the seemingly endless road for a few more miles before I spoke up again. “So… where are we going?”

“Heaven,” Mike replied.

“You’re funny,” I deadpanned, “No, really, where are we going?”

“Heaven,” Mike repeated. I felt a little bit guilty when I found myself staring at this dream version of Mike, trying my best to commit him to memory. “I mean it, Will. To die by your side… it’d be such a heavenly way to die.” That sounded familiar. Where was that line from again?

“Wait, what?” I asked, but before Mike could clarify, he was pressing his foot as hard as he possibly could onto the gas pedal, accelerating until the speedometer was essentially useless. Within seconds, he’d sent the car plummeting off the edge of the— cliff??— we’d been driving alongside the entire time.

The car flipped with a likeness to an Olympic gymnast, and I heard the sound of bones cracking above the faint background music that was still playing. I’d always wondered about that kind of scenario– if someone got into a fatal car accident; would the music continue to play? Apparently so, considering that the song “Stayin’ Alive,” by the Bee Gees was still playing. That song should never be played in a car for this exact reason; the irony is simply too cruel.

The car eventually gave up on trying to be a flying trapeze artist and settled in a diagonal position with the wheels in the air. Smoke from the undercarriage of the car traveled through the air vents and filled my lungs, and I struggled to breathe. But I didn’t even care; I had to check on Mike, see if he was okay.

He was not. I turned to my left side, and screamed in horror at the sight of Mike’s bloodied, mangled body sprawled across the dashboard, broken glass pricking his bare arms. Wait… there was no way his arm could be way over there and still be– oh my god. Mike’s arm. It had been ripped off his body. Holy shit. Mike’s arm was–

“Mike,” I forced out amidst my heaving breaths. “Michael, can you hear me?” I reached out and smacked him in the face in an attempt to wake him up. Please don’t be dead. “Michael James, if you don’t fucking respond to me right now I’m gonna–”

“Relax, Will. I’m still here.” Using his middle name always did work like a charm.

I let out a high-pitched sob in relief. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Mike said quietly, his own breathing labored. He glanced down at his arm and whispered something along the lines of Would you look at that, my arm is gone, but I couldn’t exactly tell; his speech was starting to sound garbled, as if he was choking on blood. He coughed a bit out, and I watched it dribble down his chin, proving my hypothesis correct. He was going to die without immediate medical attention.

“Come on, let me–” I went to undo my seatbelt, but realized that my limbs had stopped working. “... I can’t move,” It was most likely a severed spinal cord. “Mike, I can’t move.” I couldn’t move, and the last time I’d ever touched Mike was in the form of a slap in the face.

“Me neither, baby,” Mike laughed. His arm was quite literally torn off his body, yet he still found the will within himself to laugh. Maybe he was in shock, and the adrenaline had numbed his pain receptors. I wasn’t sure. But what I was sure of was that this dream needed to end. It was getting a bit too real.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere, Mike! We’re gonna fucking die out here if someone–”

“Shh. We’re okay,” Mike whispered, closing his eyes as he spoke. “We’ve got each other, right?” Crazy together. Deranged together. Batshit insane together.

Dead together.

“...Right,” I shut my own eyes, but was only able to for about two seconds before Mike was hacking up blood. I watched as it splattered across the surface of the shattered windshield. “We’re really gonna die, huh?”

“All that matters is that I’m dying with the love of my life by my side,” Mike muttered, all of the color slowly draining out of his face. “The pleasure– no, the privilege– is mine.” I watched his head loll to the side as the blood loss and lack of oxygen to his brain caused his heart to stop beating.

I was startled by the sound of someone gasping, and paused when I realized that the sound was coming from me. I tried to catch my breath, lifting a hand to my heart to try and ground myself with my heartbeat. I felt the familiar sensation of tears pricking the corners of my eyes, and I shut them tightly, hoping the image of Mike’s severed arm would eventually fade.

“You okay?” I heard from across the room, and I squinted my eyes to see my roommate sitting up in bed. Why did he care? He hated me. He’d aimed slurs at me all the way down the hallway when Matt had come to pick me up for the party earlier. What changed?

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, thanks,” I forced out, turning away from him and facing the front of my body towards the wall. I just needed to think of a good memory and play it out on a loop in my head to fall back asleep. I’d done it before.

A strong hand belonging to Aaron met my shoulder, and I gasped at the sudden contact. How had he gotten over to my side so quietly? Why was he over here at all? Why was he touching me like that? “You don’t sound fine,” Aaron whispered, his mouth close enough to my neck that the tendrils at the nape stood straight up. There was a sinking feeling in my stomach; something felt wrong. “No, really, I’m fi–”

Before I could even process what was happening, his hand shifted down my arm and firmly grasped my wrist. “What are you doing? Stop it,” I told him, and shook my arm in an attempt to get him off of me, but that only ignited something in him, because he pushed me from where I’d been laying on my side and onto my stomach, straddling me and holding me down. “Please stop. Please stop. Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop–”

He grabbed my other wrist and held both of them in one of his hands, as he forced my head into my pillow by my neck with the other to shut me up. He leaned down so his nose was buried in my hair, and I writhed in his grip as he inhaled. “I can make you feel better, Will,” he ghosted his lips over my ear. “Just stay quiet, and we won’t have any problems.” This could not be happening. It had to be another nightmare.

But I already knew the truth; I was wide awake.

The next few weeks were a blur. Aaron left and hadn’t come back after he raped me that night. I didn’t leave my room. I bailed on my date night with Matt over the weekend. He asked me over the phone at one point if I was planning on returning home for Hanukkah, and I glanced at my calendar for a moment of contemplation, noticing that the first two days had already passed before giving him a halfhearted, “Nah. I’ve already missed the first two days, and wouldn’t be able to catch up. I’m just gonna… stay here, I guess.”

That was a horrible idea, because the next thing I knew, my mother was in my dorm room, the expression on her face reading as a combination of disappointment and worry. “Hi, Mom,” I greeted her in a weak voice, and she merely shook her head, stomping over to my bed and whipping out a fucking stethoscope from her purse– courtesy of Owens, I assumed.

Despite my protests of being fine, she pressed her hand to my forehead before pressing the stethoscope to my heart, then to my back to hear my lungs. She dropped the stethoscope back into her purse and squeezed both of my shoulders, her eyebrows nearly becoming one with how hard she was frowning. “William Jacob Byers, you tell me what’s going on right now. Skipping Hanukkah without any call or explanation?!” I was in deep shit. She helped me pack up my things and drove us back to Hawkins that same day.

I didn’t tell my mom exactly what had happened, but did confess that I had been in a depressive state of being for the past few weeks following something traumatic that happened to me. Thankfully, she didn’t press me in regards to the topic of said trauma, but instead made an appointment with my old Upside Down therapist, Judith. I went to see her the day after I got home. Judith was a great therapist. I was so often the listener in my day-to-day life, but she took the approach of “you talk, I nod and give advice when you want it,” so it felt great to have the opportunity to rant about my problems and get validation from a sweet elderly lady who wore her own hand-knitted sweaters.

When I told Judith about what had happened with Aaron, she’d asked me if I told my family or Matt about it. I said no, I hadn’t. She asked why, and I admitted I was just afraid of my family becoming overbearing like they had been when I was a kid, and I was terrified of losing Matt over something I hadn’t been able to control. She suggested that if I couldn’t tell my family, I should at least tell my boyfriend when I was ready, as it wasn’t fair to him to continuously cancel our plans and keep him in the dark. I thought back to the last time we spoke, where he’d expressed feeling like he’d done something wrong when he hadn’t done anything wrong at all.

My mom had also managed to arrange weekly sessions over the phone for when I went back to Chicago. Recovery isn’t linear, as Judith often said. She was right. And in order to begin recovery, I needed to take that first step. So I spoke with Matt on the phone that night. He confessed to having called my mom, and was surprised when I wasn’t angry about it. I actually thanked him, because if it weren’t for my mom, I probably would’ve still been rotting away in my bed back in Chicago. When he asked me why I was depressed, I broke down crying at first, but found enough strength in myself to tell him the truth about what Aaron had done to me.

“I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” he’d said. “And as soon as you get back, we’re going to move you into my place. Riley’s moving Kate in after break, too. But you cannot go back to living with that asshole.”

Right before we ended the call, I wrote his phone number and address information down on a post-it. “I’ll see you in a few weeks,” Matt had told me. “I love you.”

“Bye,” I whispered, hanging the phone back up on the wall.

I prayed to whatever higher powers existed that my friends would just fucking give up already on trying to get Mike to hang out with us. For the past few months, the Party had been updating me on Mike’s whereabouts– or lack thereof– as he’d essentially fallen off the grid. I wasn’t particularly surprised, because I understood why he cut me off, but then again, why had everyone else been lumped in with me on Mike’s Do Not Interact list?

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked hesitantly.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Max countered, looking up from her and El’s joined hands, where she’d been painting El’s nails a shade of deep purple. I shrugged, not sure how to go about explaining why I was discouraging them from contacting our…. no, their friend.

“I don’t know,” I muttered, glancing back down at my sketchbook, where Mike’s left eye had begun to take shape on the page. I resisted the urge to cringe at myself. “Just… don’t expect much from him.”

“Believe me, man, I know,” Lucas said, slumping down entirely too forcefully onto the couch next to me with his cordless phone in his lap. “He never calls any of us anymore, we’re always the ones who have to reach out to him.”

“Which is why we’re calling him now,” Dustin reiterated the same sentiment that he’d been mulling over for the past half hour, pacing all the while. “We’re useless to Mike if we don’t at least try.”

“Okayyy,” I shrugged all of their ignorantly charged hope off my shoulders. “But as long as I’m in the picture, you won’t have any luck getting him into the same room with us. So don’t say I didn’t warn you when he declines.”

“What happened between you two, anyway?” Dustin stopped pacing and adjusted his MIT hat. I really hoped his new Thinking Cap™ was… faulty, or something, so he wouldn’t have any chance of figuring out the truth.

“Nothi–” I began, but El started talking at the same time as me, leaving me unable to keep her from saying:

“He and Will had a falling out.”

“El, for fuck’s sake, oh my–” I slapped a palm to my forehead in a combination of embarrassment and frustration. This was not how I’d wanted the Party to find out about this… in fact, I would’ve been completely content if they never found out at all and if Mike just… if he’d just… stayed away. I gulped at that sobering— and borderline concerning— thought.

“Over what? When? How? Spill!”” Dustin appeared in front of me, shaking my shoulders. He hesitated for a moment, gripping my shoulders a little tighter, and then letting go altogether before… petting my arms? I heard Lucas huff a laugh through his nose as he began dialing Mike’s number, which I subconsciously recited in my head as he pressed each key.

“On a completely different note,” Dustin retreated back to the bowl of Cool Ranch Doritos on Lucas’ kitchen table, “you have got to explain when and how you got so muscular! You’re, like, hot. You should go into, like, a bodybuilding competition. I’d vote for you.” El and Max burst out laughing. I shielded my face with my hand, a mild embarrassment quickly consuming me.

“Everyone shut up, I’m putting him on speaker,” Lucas announced, and I sighed, grateful that the conversation had officially been diverted away from The Fight. Not like my body composition was a better topic by any means, but I’d take what I could get.

“Hello?” Mrs. Wheeler’s voice came through on the other end of the line. I’d forgotten that Mike shared a single landline with his family, insisting that our walkies were immortal. Spoiler alert: No, they were not; they eventually died permanently back in 1988, rest their souls. May their memory be for a blessing.

“Hey Mrs. Wheeler, it’s Lucas. How are you?”

“Oh, Lucas! I’m doing okay, sweetie, thank you for asking! How’s… UCLA, right?”

“You remembered! I'm busy all the time, but it’s going well, Mrs. W.,” Lucas grinned. Max rolled her eyes as she muttered a quiet, “Kiss ass.”

“Well, I’m sure you didn’t call here to talk to your friend’s mom, so I’ll get Mike for you. One second,” she chuckled to herself. There was a brief moment of silence, and then–

“MICHAEL!” Mrs. Wheeler’s screeching voice came through clear as a bell, and the rest of us had to hold in our laughter. “LUCAS IS ON THE PHONE!” She’d accidentally covered the wrong end of the receiver. We heard the low thump of footsteps down the stairs, a bit of shuffling as the phone changed hands, and a quiet thanks, mom before–

“Hello?”

And suddenly, I couldn’t feel a thing. Fuck.

“Mike!”

“It’s been ages, bro!”

“Where have you been?”

“... Heeeyyy guys,” the all too familiar voice of Mike Wheeler came through the speaker, and I had to refrain from curling up on the floor and melting into a puddle of tears. I forgot how much I missed his voice. However, it sounded slightly hoarse, probably due to talking to the point of overuse, or having just woken up… at four in the afternoon? No, overuse sounded more reasonable; Mike had never been a quiet person. Shutting the fuck up simply wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“It’s good to hear you’re alive and well, man,” Lucas said.

I think I was the only one who made out the sarcasm-laced laugh on Mike’s end: “Hmmh… yeah. So… what’s up?”

“Your dick,” Matt’s voice offered up in my head. I shoved my boyfriend’s vulgar humor into the furthest corner of my mind, because the last thing I needed to think about right now was Mike’s dick. Not like I’d thought about it prior to this. Well… not very often.

“We’re hanging out at my place right now, and we wanted to see if you feel like making the trek across the vast expanse of our lawns to join us!” Lucas replied.

There was a moment of silence on Mike’s end, followed by a shaky exhale. “... Is he gonna be there?”

Lucas furrowed his eyebrows. “Who?”

“I think you know who I mean, Lucas.” I pointed at myself with a look that screamed I told you so, and Lucas’ eyes widened dramatically at the realization that I was, in fact, right. Mike wanted nothing to do with me.

“... Yeah,” he said in a low voice with a likeness to a confession, not once breaking eye contact with me. I was not going to be let out of this one easily.

“Yeah no, I’ll pass. Thanks, though.”

“Are you s—” Lucas began to protest.

“Bye, guys,” Mike cut him off before promptly hanging up, leaving everyone else’s jaws on the floor. And then… all eyes on me. Understandably.

“He’s been like this since August,” Dustin was the one to start talking. He looked rather accusatory as his eyes narrowed, and I felt my stomach fall out of my ass. “So… whatever you did must have really fucked him up.”

“Hey!” I put my hands up, “What makes you think I was the one who did something?!”

“Y-yeah,” Lucas added on, “like, maybe Mike did something to… I don’t know. Whatever happened between you two, though, it’s made him really distant. I think something is seriously wrong.” I suddenly felt the air in the Sinclairs’ living room run cold, and… looked up to see Max adjusting the thermostat. I would never get used to the concept of central air, even after having it in my own house for years.

“What do you mean?” El asked, her voice quiet.

“Okay, for instance, you know how Mike’s a talker?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Well, that Mike is gone, because phone conversations between us never make it past three and a half minutes,” Lucas said, his eyes trained on the floor as he spoke. “It’s all hey bro, how are you doing, good, good, how’s school, great, I’m busy actually, can I call you at some other point and we can catch up, yeah sure talk soon. The end. And then he never calls me back.”

“Yeah, he’s been short with me, too,” Dustin added. “And that’s saying something, because that man is a fucking skyscraper.”

“You must know something, Will,” Max said from where she stood, returning the focus of the conversation back onto me. Honestly, I was starting to get a bit frustrated. I’d obviously played a pretty large role in Mike’s downward spiral, and it was eating away at me with every new second that passed. But at the same time, I thought my friends would take the news of our falling out as a sign to not press me about him.

“I really don’t, actually,” I replied, “and I’m kind of confused as to why this is my problem.”

“Woah, Will, calm down, I didn’t mean to make you get defensive,” Max said, her eyes wide, probably surprised at my blatant apathy to the situation. “It’s just that you two were so close for years, and I thought… I thought maybe you were just trying to protect him, or something.”

That was fair. “Right,” I whispered, and closed my eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry for snapping. I’m just–” I opened my eyes back up, “I’m tired of talking about Mike. He’s not gonna change, so why are we still trying?” I was nervous for a moment that I’d pushed a bit too hard attempting to move on from the current conversation, but was relieved when everyone nodded in agreement.

“That’s a very good point,” Lucas said. “Let’s change the subject.”

“Yeah, let’s change the subject…” El trailed off, sending a mischievous smirk my way. “Will got a boyfriend.”

I was going to murder my sister. I knew she meant well, but… I was going to murder her.

“Boyfriend?!” everyone shouted at the same time, shock spreading like wildfire across their faces. I nodded, and then the questions started hitting.

“What’s his name?”

“Where’s he from?”

“What is he majoring in?”

“We need details, Byers! Details!”

“Matt Winters, yes, the initials are purely coincidental, Winston-Salem North Carolina, and he’s a senior material studies major.”

“And he treats you well?” Lucas asked, and I turned to face him, pulling my sketchbook closer to my chest.

“More than well,” I replied earnestly. “He’s… he’s incredible, honestly. He’s sweet, he’s talented, he’s affectionate, he’s out of the closet…” Unlike someone else I knew. But they didn’t have to know that.

I didn’t need to continue listing adjectives for much longer, because my friends’ previously unison bumbling split into two separate subconversations. I heard Lucas and Max bickering about how Lucas never said things like that about Max and it’s a wonder she hadn’t dumped his ass for the fourteenth time by now; Lucas rebutted with the fact that all their friends knew her already and therefore didn’t need Lucas to elaborate upon her best qualities. Dustin turned to El and nudged her with his elbow. She turned to him, giving her full attention as he muttered quietly, but not quiet enough to the point that I couldn’t overhear, “Mike’s gonna be pissed.” I watched my sister take in this information before she nodded with a tight grimace.

Mike’s gonna be pissed.

I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t been aware that I’d been holding, and looked down at my hands, which had somehow become fists in my lap. Mike’s gonna be pissed. But I was finally happy. I had Matt, and he was a better boyfriend than I could have ever asked for. Mike’s gonna be pissed. So what? He messed with my head, he deserved it. Mike’s gonna be pissed.

“Hey, um, I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” I said to no one in particular, and ignored everyone’s suddenly concerned voices as they faded into background noise. I closed the bathroom door a bit harder than necessary, and put a hand over my mouth as I began to hyperventilate. Mike’s gonna be pissed. Mike’s gonna be pissed. Mike’s gonna be pissed.

I leaned forward and vomited into the toilet.

I mounted my bike and knocked the kickstand up with my foot, leaning my weight onto the right pedal as I biked down the empty streets of Hawkins. It had been a long day at Melvald’s; I’d been tasked with running the store for the weekend on account of it being my parents’ wedding anniversary, and my dad had planned a surprise trip for my mom to Lake Superior. On any other occasion, it would have been fine. Working at Melvald’s wasn’t the problem, rather, it was my last week of working there before I left for college wherein lied the issue.

It was the day after The Fight. “Can you grab some coin rolls from the back, honey?” my mom had asked me from the counter. I nodded, put down the notebooks I’d been stocking, and headed to the supply closet, turning up the volume on my walkman as I went. The lyrics of Billy Squier’s “My Kinda Lover,” infiltrated my mind as I grabbed the coin rolls and walked back to the counter, where… oh no. Mike Wheeler was walking down the sidewalk in the direction of our store.

“Fuck,” I whispered to myself as I approached my mom. She looked up at me, her smile fading when she noticed the panic in my expression. “Mom?” I felt my voice waver, “Mom, hide me. Please.”

“What? Why–” she asked, but there was no time to explain. Mike was mere feet away from the door. He’d probably fucking seen me by now.

“Just do it,” I begged. “Please.” She thankfully didn’t press me any further and gestured for me to duck below the register. I did so as quickly as I possibly could, and held my breath as I waited for the little bell above the door to ring. And it did.

“Hey, Mike!” I heard my mom’s voice above me, and I lowered my head into my hands. What the hell was I even doing? Why was I such a coward? I couldn’t even face Mike, while he’d come all the way to my mom’s store, probably looking for—

“Hey Ms. Byers…” I heard Mike say, “Is Will here by any chance? I need to talk to him.” He definitely sounded like he hadn’t slept last night. I hadn’t, either. I couldn’t. Not with the feeling of Mike’s lips on mine existing for the sole purpose of haunting me. I wanted so badly to stand up, jump the counter, and pull Mike into me so hard that it would send us crashing to the floor so hard that we’d get permanent amnesia and therefore erase the horrors of the past twenty four hours from our memories.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie, he left a little while ago.”

I heard Mike sigh. “Is he headed home? Or–”

“I’m honestly not sure, he never tells me anything these days.”

“Well, when you see him next, can you…” His voice broke– and so did my heart. “Can you please tell him to call me?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Thank you. I hope you have a great rest of your day.”

“You… too,” my mom said slowly, and I heard the bell ring once more as Mike left the store. Out of nowhere, I felt my mom’s foot lightly kicking my shin, and I knew then that I was in trouble. I stood up to see her leaning against the counter with her arms crossed.

“What in the world happened that could possibly make you want to hide under a counter to avoid your best friend of thirteen years?”

“Listen, it’s complicated–”

“You love Mike!”

“Yeah, and that’s the problem, Mom!” I broke down then, my voice dissolving into quiet sobs. She pulled me down to her level and rubbed my back comfortingly, but I didn’t stop talking. “I love him. I love him so much it hurts. And I’d just come to terms with him not feeling the same, but yesterday, I found twenty six love letters to me that he’d written over the past two years– yeah, according to the letters, it turns out he’s apparently gay and in love with me, what the hell are the odds of that happening– and when I brought them to him asking for answers, he just kissed me.”

Mom pulled away then, her eyebrows furrowing across her forehead. “He kissed you?! Wow! Isn’t that a good th–”

“No!” I groaned, running a hand through my hair. “No, it’s not a good thing, because it isn’t true! He doesn’t love me. He just said he did, and he says a lot of things–”

“He was probably just scared, baby! Remember how nervous you were to come out to me and Dad? Besides, you know he hasn’t ever really been the best at expressing his feelings. He most likely wrote those letters because he was too afraid to tell you.”

I shrugged. “Yeah. Um, you’re probably right.”

This flashback, in combination with what I’d overheard the last time I hung out with the Party, had me so far gone into a mental breakdown that I thought I was going to explode. Mike’s gonna be pissed. Mike’s gonna be pissed. Mike’s gonna be pissed. I was distraught. I couldn’t go home like this without Jonathan and El asking me a thousand and one questions, so I decided to take a little detour to the park.

“We stealthily made it out of my window and down onto the ground without dying, and then we grabbed our bikes before making our great escape. We biked out into the night, wind whipping through our hair, and I just felt so free. And for a second, just a split second, I imagined what it would be like if we were together, and we were sneaking off to make out in the woods or something. That would be so romantic.”

I eventually reached the playground of my childhood. My eyes drifted to the swingset; it looked so small and rickety now, compared to how I used to imagine it as a castle when I was a kid. I sat down on one of the swings, getting used to the feel of the hard plastic pushing into my sides. My friends weren’t kidding. Long gone was the skinny kid I used to be; I really had built up more muscle than I knew what to do with. I took a deep breath and propelled myself off of the wood chips by my heels. As the cool wind blew through my hair, emotions ran high as it hit me that I had grown up.

“Hi, I’m Michael! Do you want to be my friend?” “Yes!” I felt a few stray tears escape my eyes, and pulled a hand off one of the chains to brush them away. I continued swinging for a few more minutes, hoping that it would calm me down, but I just got even sadder as time dragged on. I met Mike on these swings, I thought. We were best friends. I loved him. Now that we don’t talk… he’s just a ghost. I jumped off the swings and took a few seconds to reorient myself, glancing down at my shoes.

But then, I heard a faint rumbling across the pavement, and looked up from the ground to see a tall figure skateboarding down the sidewalk. Oh my god. It was Mike. Mike was here. Mike was… out of the house? Oh my god, Mike was skateboarding at night in my direction. I felt panic rise into my throat and suddenly felt the urge to throw up again. I had to hide. Fuck, I really had to hide, because Mike was getting closer and closer and I was in no condition to talk to him.

I dashed across the playground, trying my best to stay as quiet and as low to the ground as possible in order to not be seen. I managed to reach the metal slide and crouched behind it, raising my head the slightest bit upwards so I could see over the edge of it. Hawkins still hadn’t replaced that damn slide, even after all the times my friends and I had burnt our asses in the ninety degree summer heat throughout our elementary school days.

As Mike approached the playground, he skidded his skateboard to a stop and paused to look around, probably making sure he was the only one there. His head turned in my direction, and I prayed my reflexes were quick enough as I escaped his line of sight. They thankfully seemed to suffice as I heard the wheels of his board begin to roll once again. I peeked over the edge of the slide like the creep I was and watched Mike skate in circles around the basketball court. His long black hair was covered by a beanie, but was still long enough to flow gracefully behind him. God, he was beautiful. Just as beautiful as I remembered. I missed him. You know what? Screw it, I’m gonna talk to him, I thought. I’m going to make things right between us. Against my better judgment, I stood up and made my way over to Mike.

He caught a glimpse of me in his peripheral vision and had to do a double take before jumping off his board to walk over to me. We both watched it roll away and fall off the pavement and into the grass before turning back to each other.

“Will,” he was the first to speak. It felt like a whole century had passed since I’d last heard him say my name, and I’d forgotten how much I loved hearing it.

“Mike.” I looked up at Mike then, taking in the entirety of his appearance. He had dark circles under his eyes, and judging by his oily scalp, he looked like he hadn’t showered in days.

“How have you been?” he asked me. Typical Mike, I thought, always wondering how I’m doing. Then again, he was just asking a simple question found in most conversations, I was nothing special.

“I’m doing alright,” I replied, shoving my hands into my jean pockets. “How are you?”

“Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

He’s been like this since August, so… whatever you did must have really fucked him up.

“... Not particularly, no.”

We stood there for a few seconds in silence, unsure of what to say. I decided to speak first this time around. “So… how are things in Indy?”

Mike scoffed then, closing his eyes tightly in frustration. “You know, the least you can do is fucking apologize.” He was right; I’d left things on a horrible note, and had yet to mention anything about our fight.

“I know, Mike, I’m s–”

“No,” Mike cut me off, his gaze hardening. “You’re only sorry because I prompted it.”

“Says the one who expected me to just accept the fact that he was in love with me and not question his integrity after finding twenty six love letters in his bedroom.”

“You shouldn’t have read those.”

“You shouldn’t have left them out!”

“Well, I was a fucking dumbass, what else is new?”

“Well, so am I, then, because I had finally convinced myself that you didn’t love me, just for you to go and turn my whole world upside down!” Neither of us even noticed or reacted to the unintentional pun.

“I do love you, Will,” Mike’s voice softened as it always did, and he took a step closer to me as he spoke. “I do. What do I have to do to make you believe me?”

“Kiss me,” I replied.

Mike groaned at that, rolling his eyes as he threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “What do you mean, kiss me? I did kiss you that day, and you–”

“But you only did it because I prompted it,” I shot Mike’s words right back at him, and he could only blink. “If you really love me, you’ll prove it to me by kissing me for real. No leading me on and letting me down. No goddamn love letters. Just… kiss me.”

He took a deep breath then, his eyes meeting mine once again and his expression turning into a determined resolve. “You want me to kiss you for real?” Mike whispered, closing the remaining distance between us. “I’ll show you real.”

The sound of Mike’s skateboard violently smacking against the pavement brought me back to reality. I was still hidden behind the slide. I ran my hands over my face, rubbing my fingertips against the corners of my eyes. I was so exhausted that my imagination had gone off the rails.

I needed to go get some sleep. But Mike was in the way of my route home, and I was not prepared to pass him on my bike just to get stopped and forced to have an awkward, real-life encounter with him. What if I just… took the next street over? I thought to myself. That could work. But… where did I leave my… bike. My bike rested on its side against the swingset, clear on the other side of the park. I’d forgotten how far I’d wandered away from it, and wondered briefly how Mike couldn’t have seen it yet. I glanced back over to the basketball court at… Mike. Who wasn’t there.

“You stalking me, Byers?” I heard from above me, and even though my mind had deducted that that he had spotted me behind the slide, my heart still jumped at the sight of Mike looming over me. I stood up, brushing the accumulated woodchips off my knees from kneeling.

“You caught me, Wheeler,” I chuckled, and Mike smiled back.

“How have you been?” he asked me. Typical Mike, I thought, always wondering how I’m doing. Then again, he was just asking a simple question found in most conversations, I was nothing special.

“I’m doing alright,” I replied, shoving my hands into my jean pockets. “How are you?”

“Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

He’s been like this since August, so… whatever you did must have really fucked him up.

“I’m sorry,” I told him, rocking back and forth on my feet a few times. “All of this is my fault. It’s my fault you’re like this.”

“Yeah. It kind of is.”

“I shouldn’t have blown up on you like that. If I hadn’t, then maybe all of this could have been…” I faltered, and Mike shook his head.

“There was no avoiding it, Will,” he said. “I went about it all wrong. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. I should have taken the time to explain to you–”

“But you did explain, that’s the thing,” I said. “I was just too caught up in my own anger and confusion to notice–”

“I don’t blame you for being angry and confused,” Mike told me, and I looked up to notice tears welling up in his eyes. “I was angry and confused at myself for my inability to tell you the truth about how I felt. It scared the shit out of me.”

I couldn’t help but reach up then, resting my hand against his cheek and swiping the tears away. He let out a small sniffle and lifted his eyes from the ground to meet mine. They say that the eyes are windows to the soul; the pain in his eyes sent me right back to that day of our mutual heartbreak, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I lifted my other hand to hold the other side of his face, and ran my thumbs over his cheeks once more before I—

Heard someone yell, “Ow, fuck!” knocking me out of my daze of delusion once again. I looked up and saw that Mike had fallen off his board, and was laying on the pavement on his back, unmoving. For a moment, I feared that he’d knocked himself out, but relief flooded my body when I saw him reach his hands up to his head and run his fingers through his hair with a groan. He didn’t get up, though, so I hesitantly rose from my position on the ground and approached Mike slowly. He noticed my shadow and whipped his head in my direction, eyes wide. He looked stupified, unable to find the words to say to me. Not like I could have done any better.

I knelt down next to him, and couldn’t help it when my breath hitched. Mike looked gorgeous from this angle, in the moonlight, below me. I felt something primal within myself awaken, letting a low noise escape my throat as I let my body take over. I crawled a bit closer to Mike, reading his expression for any stop signs. And then… I pounced.

A shiver went down my spine, shaking me out of my hopefully last scenario. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but my knees were starting to hurt from crouching behind the slide. I pulled my hands off the rail of the slide to rub my freezing cold palms together.

“Goddamnit!” Mike shouted at the night sky, which had turned a light grey with the snow that had begun to fall over the park. I blinked a few stray snowflakes out of my eyes and pulled my hood up, preparing to sprint across the park, grab my bike, and go. All the cardio training I’d done over the past semester had to have been done for a purpose. And this was it.

I took a few deep breaths, about to make a run for it, when I heard a high pitched whine come from the direction of the basketball court. I took one last glance over to Mike, who was reaching into his pocket and pulling out… was that a flask? My suspicions were confirmed when he unscrewed the top and tipped his head all the way back as he proceeded to chug the whole thing in a few seconds. Oh god.

He’s been like this since August, so… whatever you did must have really fucked him up.

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kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months

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Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader Theseus is dead. You’re escorting the Minotaur, more beast than a man, out of the Labyrinth. The problem is, he seems to be more interested in what’s between your legs than in his mission of killing the notorious king of Crete… (12 k. Minotaur is not an actual hybrid in this fic. Reader is Hecate’s initiate. Part 1 here.) Tags/warnings: Shameless smut mdni, dubious consent, extremely possessive behaviour, abduction, first time (König & reader are both virgins), hugs & cuddles, washing blood off your monster boyfriend, awkward flirting, semi-rough sex, shifting power dynamics, sexist insults & slurs (the citizens of Crete do not approve of your choices), implied cannibalism, fluffy ending. Mythical AU.

The candle goes out before you reach the surface.

To someone else, it would be the end of the world: to you, it’s only a hindrance, a nuisance, mostly.

You’re not easily distressed. If you were, you wouldn’t be in the service of the greatest goddess of the Underworld. And you’re not mourning losing the sight of your warmly illuminated beast... You’re only worried about what he will do once the darkness descends. Whether he will forget about his vow, whether the baser instincts take over him once the darkness falls.

And darkness is not capable of making you lost: you can always follow the string in your hand. But without light, it’s difficult to predict the Bull’s moves: whether he decides to maim or fuck you against the wall, you can never tell. He hasn’t lived in the real world among people; he doesn’t know what’s right or wrong and what’s expected of him. Even the best of men can succumb to the demands of the flesh, so what power would a Bull Man have against his animal wants? No one ever taught him to respect the gods, let alone the maidens who serve them...

Then again, if a simple candle was the only thing that kept you alive, then what’s the point of lamenting the loss of it? Your life was already forfeit when you chose to descend here.

So you let it go: as always, the greatest lesson in life is to simply let go. Of control, of judgment, of fear, of hope.

He doesn’t say a thing when the light flickers, then fades. The candle goes out in silence, and you let it drop before the remaining wax burns your palm.

And it’s not the absence of light, but strength, that forces you on your knees before even an hour has passed. There’s still a long way to go, and the yarn is like a thin string of hope in your hand, but you’re too exhausted, too worn out, too hungry and too tired to go on.

The Bull Man doesn’t object to your suggestion to lay down and sleep for a while. He has walked behind you in silence the whole day. Or night… You can’t tell the difference; you lost count somewhere along the way down here. The air is stale and humid, and there’s no torch, not a single candle anywhere and even if there were, you wouldn’t do anything with them without a flint.

The horror is kept at bay only through your numerous exercises with the goddess who introduced you to darkness many, many moons ago. You were initiated during the dark Moon, the new Moon, the blood Moon, introduced to the mysteries of the maiden, mother and crone, to the secrets of both the living and the dead. You’re not afraid, but your body still warns you of danger: you just don’t know if it’s a memory from childhood or a reaction to the Bull, panting behind you – out of lust or exertion, you don’t even know. Someone who wasn’t a maiden probably could tell… At times, you curse the fact that there hasn’t been a single phallus inside you because men too possess knowledge. Taking a man into your bed would have initiated you to a different set of mysteries, but now, you are poking blind.

The Bull Man is an animal, you remind yourself. The longer you stay in his company, the more he starts to resemble a human, even if he is a man of few words. How he even remembers them is another mystery: you thought he was sent down here as a young boy. He speaks oddly but eloquently, a remnant of his noble descent, perhaps. Or perhaps he has listened to the people speaking in the Labyrinth, eavesdropped his victims an hour or two before killing them. Whatever the reason, you have to constantly tie your tongue because there’s simply no point in talking to a beast. The less you know about him and his past, the better.

You ready yourself for sleep, but the cursed cold of the tunnels keeps your body awake. Your flesh is human even if your mind is forged to withstand hunger, thirst and pain. Endurance against cold was never your strong suit, and you miss the heat of the sun, the warmth of it on your skin, even the ample light it gives. You, a lover of the moon, missing the heat of Apollo… It’s a joke, surely.

On the stone floor, it’s even colder, the rough, damp ground making your very bones ache. How on Hecate’s name has the beast survived this place?

“Bull Man,” you speak into the darkness, thick like an impenetrable wall and thin like a virgin’s veil.

“Maiden,” he echoes with a dark, low growl, slightly amused by the name you’ve selected for him.

“Are you cold?” You whisper.

Perhaps he doesn’t quite understand the question or why you asked it. It doesn’t matter: you have to swallow your pride and ask for his help if you’re going to survive this dark prison.

“I don’t get cold,” he finally responds.

“Good. I need your heat.”

The silence drags on, and you fear he has misunderstood you again, but then he speaks again, with the same slightly amused tone as before.

“Come take it.”

You’re not sure if you’ve completely lost your mind, crawling to him through the uneven floor of the Labyrinth. Who knows what he will do to you once he gets those arms of iron around you? You’re placing your maidenhood, your whole body at his mercy. And you’re not even sure if it’s a he, if this thing is human at all.

Human or animal, your hand meets the bull’s head on the way to him. He has taken it off, then... It’s not a part of him, just like you suspected. Maybe he is just a giant, daunting man, born from whatever forbidden desire Pasiphae had. Who knows if she only went to a foreign lover’s arms when her husband was at war? Who knows if King Minos has trouble getting his phallus up… These things happen: women get pregnant from their lovers, they do desperate things to pacify their husbands. And you don’t need a bull to get yourself an heir...

You feel his heat before you feel his skin: the Minotaur is verily blazing. He has gotten used to the cold, it seems, his body like a small bonfire in the clammy tunnel.

“Cold little female,” he comments when you snuggle towards him shyly, thoroughly aware of the uninviting chill of your body.

You settle next to him, every muscle in your body tight like a bowstring, your breaths shallow when he gives you a welcoming rumble. Goosebumps prickle across your skin and your throat goes dry, the thick swallow in the tunnel echoing around you like a thief.

Arms like iron go around you, and his body is taut, just like yours, but for a whole different reason entirely. He’s not afraid or nervous; he’s just… big. Pure muscle, his whole body thick, the stock and heat of him remind you of the sun. A miniature sun down here in these dark tunnels, but while you start to slowly soften in his arms, a different threat is already emerging. It doesn’t take long before his cock stiffens against you, and with the scarce clothing you both have, you can feel its every excited twitch.

Artemis… Protect me from this beast. Turn him into a dog if he tries to penetrate me. Let him rip my throat instead…

You’ve never prayed to the Virgin Goddess; you don’t know if she can even hear you from down here. But Hecate would only laugh if this Bull decided to breed you. No mercy would arrive from that direction: she would either send a disease of blisters upon the Minotaur for touching her chosen or then she would cackle like an old woman, thousand times raped.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hoping your kindness will distract him from what’s happening downstairs.

“My pleasure,” he grumbles, mimicking the words he probably heard as a child in his father’s great hall.

It sends a chill down your spine and butterflies into your heart to hear him speak like a polite man of court. And again, you think of asking him about his childhood... His mother, his father, the things he remembers from the surface. How he survived here without water, if there are underground springs here somewhere. Whether he eats humans like they say... If he ever embraced the dead women he killed.

“Can you do it again,” he rumbles against you, cutting you away from your grotesque thoughts.

“...Do what again?”

“Touch me… With your hand.”

His words are blunt now, his speech clumsy. But the way he says it is not an order. It’s an odd beg, more like. Laced with hope and wishes far away from greed. This Bull is never greedy, per se… He’s just lacking. Starved, for so many things that you fear there’s not enough time nor kindness to give him what he needs.

Your pulse flutters when you slowly lift your hand and caress the strong cords of muscle that make his neck. The rumbling returns; it turns into a low purr as the beast relaxes under your touch. Something softens inside you when he sighs from relief. His unbridled happiness tugs at your heart, trying to yank open something forbidden. It’s the softest violation you’ve ever felt: to be held by a giant killer having a roaring erection, while the said killer clearly enjoys your caress like it’s the touch of Aphrodite herself…

You even stroke his face. His jaw, unclenching under your touch; his cheek, covered with what you suppose is simply a wild, overgrown beard.

“Your hand,” he groans softly, “makes me sleepy and warm…”

The cold, uncaring goddess recedes. The burdens of past, present and future dissolve. Softness takes place in your heart; the iron locks give in like brittle brass. A smile plays on your lips as you continue to pet him softly, lulling you both to sleep with your voice.

“Then sleep, Bull of Crete...”

…

You wake up to his cock pressing against you.

Not against your stomach like when you went to sleep – that you could do with – but against your cunt, barely veiled by the thin linen of your dress.

The panic is soon wrestled down with reason: you tell yourself it’s just a cock. It’s just him. You’re simply in the Minotaur’s arms, and he’s sound asleep still; there’s no reason to buck and jerk and scream.

The darkness feels like a safe womb now, but with nothing to lock your gaze to, you have to take a moment to ground yourself into reality. And the first thing you ground into is a thick cockhead, pressing fast into your nether lips. He’s practically at the gates, and you’re lucky he’s still asleep.

It’s perhaps your fault this happened in the first place: you notice you’ve dragged your thigh over his hip; as if wanting him to fuck you in your sleep… You embrace him like Helen of Troy, and he holds you through his sleep like a man in love, perfectly content with napping on the cold ground with you.

“Mm…” The beast stirs, probably noticing how the female in his arms is tense as a rod. “You smell like you want to fuck…”

“No I don’t,” you hurry to whisper.

Gods curse this man’s ability to smell everything from miles away. Blood and humans and, apparently, a woman at her most receptive.

What if he can actually smell the wetness between your legs?

“We need to go,” you slowly remove your leg from on top of his waist, hoping it would go unnoticed that you were clutching him like a lover. You have no such luck: he grabs your thigh and draws it back, sets it safe and snug around his waist while adjusting his grip on you, now hugging you entirely like a lover would.

“I want to mate with you,” he says softly. “You want to mate too. Why go?”

He sounds so adorable when he’s still in the process of waking up to a new day. Drowsy and sweet, voice husky from sleep, body warm as can be, the hard-on between his legs happy and stiff.

“I thought you wanted to kill the king,” you try to point out.

“This is more important,” he gruffs. “Urgent.”

The cock pushes further up and against you, now spreading your folds under the dress, trying to penetrate into your heat. Your eyes go wide as thick need pools down to meet his greed. His body, his cock makes your head go dull for a moment; you feel like you’re not even capable of thinking actual thoughts.

“No, it’s not. We need to get up.”

You stiffen in his arms, push yourself away, and to your surprise, he actually lets you go. Reluctantly and with a hollow grunt, but he lets you go.

You rise with a wobble, and adjust your dress, your head spinning from his advances. You swear he becomes more man-like every day, every passing hour, even. Or is it just you who’s changing…?

The Bull Man is up before you get to ponder on that thought for too long. Your heart and head struggle to find their footing for a moment, your legs are so weak you feel like fainting. He catches you before you fall, the warm, thick arms closing around you with stout affection.

“You need more heat?” He asks softly.

You look up out of habit, even if you can't see his eyes, covered by the carcass again because his voice is muffled.

“No… I’m hungry.”

He’s silent for a moment, probably thinking what he could do to help the situation. You fear he will suggest you go back to visit his “pantry” and eat whatever horrible, half-rotten man-flesh he might have in store there, but he only holds you close to prevent you from sliding back to the ground.

“Hmm. No mice up here,” he ponders.

“You eat mice…?”

“Sometimes.”

You leave it at that: you don’t want to know what he’s had to do to sustain himself down here. You don’t even have a fire to cook the vermin, even if you would be ready to eat even those after another day or two without food.

“Not a long way up,” he says. “We will reach the sun soon. Then I’ll find you something to eat.”

“How do you know that…?”

“The air smells different.”

You sigh and search for the string, your lifeline to the outside world. You can’t wait to get out of here, and with both hurry and an odd dread, you hike for what seems like another whole day. Tension, hunger and thirst distort your thoughts, and you’re sure by now that the time flows differently here in the Underworld. With no small amount of pride, you feel accomplished to have survived this place so far. Even gods have had to do some tricks to escape the nether worlds: it is no small feat to charm the Minotaur and then walk out of here unharmed.

To your knowledge, you’re the only one who has ever escaped the Labyrinth. You haven’t even had time to think about what you will unleash with you… The demon that walks on your heels will take his revenge, not only on the king but on the city who threw him here.

Well. It’s their problem now. Minos and Pasiphae simply have to deal with their successor. The world will simply have to deal with the Underworld’s wrath.

And oh, how Hecate would laugh if she saw this monster prince of Crete escape his prison because of you – the feared Minotaur set free, only because he’s mesmerized by a woman. You suspect he would have his cock jumping for any girl, though. It's not because you're an exceptional sorceress that he follows you: it's your cunt he's after. And it shouldn’t make you feel jealous that he probably gets distracted the moment he sees a better offer walk by.

But it does. In your darkest wishes, you would keep the Bull Man all to yourself. Get him a leash, perhaps... Feed him with your own hands and let him grope you in the dark, watch him go wild from lust when you finally give him access to your cunt.

Many would hardly think you’re a virgin if they took a peek inside your head. But the things you’ve seen and done, the white bulls you’ve slaughtered for the dark Goddess, adorning them with cypress wreaths before slashing their throats open, would turn any woman bleak and twisted like this. For once, you would like to save the bull from slaughter.

When you see the first evidence of light, your body lets out a sigh it has been holding ever since you arrived here. Seeing the sun gives you more strength than any food or meal, and you pick up your pace while the Minotaur behind you begins to hesitate.

“It’s too bright,” he says before you’ve even walked out of the tunnel, now turning into a vast cave, the entrance to the Labyrinth.

You turn around to look and stop in your tracks when you see the fear in his eyes is acute. It’s mixed with wonder, the curiosity wrestling away doubt slowly but surely. He only needs a little nudge, a gentle pull, an enticing little smile and eyes that he can trust.

“You’ll get used to it soon,” you extend your hand.

He takes a step, then another, then another, until he reaches your outstretched fingers, and hand in hand you walk out of the Labyrinth and into the bright morning sun, burning over the kingdom of Crete.

He’s only a breath away from panicking, but covers it well. You wonder if it’s truly the light that’s too bright or if the feeling of being so exposed is what makes him so afraid. Clearly, the vast space opening up before him is intimidating.

There are grassy plains as far as the eye can see, little hills that dot the horizon, and skies so expansive and bright it must hurt his eyes. Goats are grazing under the sun, trees are bending in the wind, the rustling of leaves and the sound of birds calling him to look in all directions as he tries to make some sense of his surroundings.

“It’s alright,” you give his palm a soft squeeze, and the way he looks there under the sun, so big and powerful and able, and still so utterly lost, is giving you heartache you haven’t known since you were a child.

“There’s… so many colours,” he says, looking at the blue summer sky, the deep olive greens, the dirty whiteness of the goats, the flowers upon the grass. A butterfly, flying past, yellow like the citrus that people harvest from a few miles from here. A big blackbird with an orange beak, swooping down to catch a cricket, the slate grey pigeons flying so close to the sun that he has to shield his eyes even if they’re already safe and sheltered under the bull head.

Seeing his wonder and awe makes you look at the scenery so differently that it burns, it actually hurts: there’s so much beauty in the world, and you have always taken it for granted. Cursed the rain and the storms, cursed the droughts, cursed the gods for sending down another famine, when in truth, the world was filled with abundance, of colours, of life and joy… And all you’ve done is worship darkness. Now the darkness is out: it’s standing next to you, watching the view of your mundane everyday life like it’s nothing short of a miracle.

And when you turn back to look at him again, his eyes are upon you.

“What?” You ask, freshly caught in your moment of weakness.

“You are pretty,” he says, eyes wrinkling with delight under the mask.

Gods damn him…

He doesn’t know that human men don’t act like this, talk like this, or if they do, there’s usually something vile involved behind it all. He doesn’t know how to play games, he was never introduced to the lies and deceit of the world.

The Bull of Crete only looks at you with soft fondness in his stare – he doesn’t understand that he should cover that softness as well if he intends to win. Any woman could put a leash on him before another moon has passed, but he doesn’t seem to care. And it’s not even heat or hunger that makes you weak this time... It’s those eyes, looking at you with more and more warmth.

“Nonsense,” you huff without a voice, and turn towards the old road with an adoring bull on your heels.

The cold sigh of the underworld is quickly left behind you as you walk up the old carriage road, nearly grown in with weeds. The Labyrinth is located miles away from civilization, but the people living in these hills are used to the cold cave by now. They trust that the Minotaur will never escape and only turn away their heads and close the doors of their huts when the screaming, crying human sacrifices are delivered to the mouth of the cave. Little do they know that the monster is now looking at their little hills and goats with delight, not bloodlust.

For the Minotaur is fascinated with your world: he has to touch every leaf, every tree, every blade of grass, it seems. The goats are afraid of him, but one small nanny is bold enough to come and sniff his hand. Perhaps it remembers that beings walking on two feet give her apples sometimes, and the giant studies this small white animal with gentle curiosity, allows the goat to smell his hand, only chuckles when the goat gives out a little scoff when she notices there are no treats to be found there.

The vision is more adorable than when you’ve seen children play with kittens, and no matter what you do, you can’t turn your heart into ice anymore. You were taught that the Minotaur is a monster who enjoys torturing his victims, creatures far more helpless than him. Now you see him watching the she-goat with warm curiosity, rumbling softly inside his helm, far from the ravaging beast that approached you in that tunnel what seems like months ago.

You watch him with tender sadness as he marvels at the sky and remembers how he used to sit in the shade of an olive tree when he was a child. He goes to sit there now and examines how the sun filters through the massive branches of the tree as if trying to recall the memory.

He asks questions like: “How can you humans stand this heat?” or “Why is there only one road?” and listens to your answers carefully.

He says he can smell the sea, even if the salty water is miles and miles away, and gets curious about what’s behind that hill, or that one, what about that one… You wonder if he’s even interested in killing the king anymore and suggest that he could just forget about this cruel place and buy himself a sea voyage with that expensive sword. He could get rid of his helmet and ask if anyone needs a goat herd or an able-bodied man to help at construction sites or stables; he could get work from the docks any day, sail to Athens or some other big city, forge himself a new life.

But he doesn’t want to.

He says he has to avenge his mother who always cried when he was little.

More wretched tugs pull at your heart as you approach the city. The lovely summer’s day turns into a nightmare once people see who’s on his way to the heart of Crete.

You don’t understand their screams, not anymore, while only a few days ago you knew they preceded death. The Minotaur doesn’t kill anyone, mainly because he doesn’t have to. Everyone flees before his wake, people rush to their homes and bar the doors, even soldiers slip away to be with their loved ones or run to warn the king if they have any loyalty left.

You’re left to walk through the marketplace in settling dust and tense silence as the Bull Man explores the abundant samples of food on display. He has to have a taste of everything from all stands, but only after he has offered figs, olives, grain, grapes, grilled meat and fish to you first.

“Eat,” he says and shoves a handful of pine seeds your way. “You were hungry?”

“This is not the way to–” you ignore the food only through sheer willpower. “This is not right. People own these things. They sell them at the market, you need to pay for these.”

“Pay? With what?”

He looks at you for a moment, unable to recall what money is and how these things are supposed to work. He probably had his mother’s servants bring him everything he needed as a child anyway, so how could he know?

“They will take your hands for stealing,” you try to explain with softly building despair.

“I will take their heads before that.”

“The next king will hunt you down and punish you,” you rush after him, and when he won’t listen, you seize his hand and finally get him to halt. He looks down at the weak palm around his wrist, then raises his gaze to you.

“Bulls don’t have kings.”

Your attempts to tame him are futile. The things they’ve taught him to be are now being used as a way to escape responsibility, and while it’s none of your business, you refuse to let him believe that he is nothing more than an animal.

“You are not a bull,” you wail in frustration. “You’re a man.”

He hesitates, only for a moment; the gentle, loving gaze makes your legs weak.

“You’re the first to think that.”

Then he rips himself away from you, softly but sternly.

He doesn’t need directions to the palace: he knows he has to head for the most prominent building in the city to reach the king. The grandiose heart of Crete, white-chalked and beautiful under the burning midday sun is the pride of every citizen, even if it houses another monster.

You sigh as you watch him go: the Bull Man, the demon of the underworld, the one you thought would rape you bloody before you get to crawl out of the Labyrinth. The fact that he wanted to kill his father more than he wanted to be born again into a new life wasn’t a surprise, but that he chose to bloody his sword rather than his cock is somehow... insulting, almost.

What actually haunts you is how your insides coil and turn when you rush back to your temple. It’s not like you thought the Minotaur would take you with him. Board some trade ship bound for distant shores, and ravage you ever so softly in the belly of the creaking hull. It’s not like you dreamed of petting him to sleep while you two embark on a new life. But the way your heart twists and wails inside your chest makes it clear that losing him is even more painful than losing Theseus and the life he promised you.

You never even wanted Theseus; you only wanted him to take you away from here. His affection would have been the result of ample witchcraft at best.

He’s practically already dead, and your heart turns to stone far more slowly than you would prefer. It’s just your luck to first have the golden hero of Greece look down on you in disdain, and then witness even the Bull Man walk away from you like you never meant anything to him. Men killing each other is the oldest story in the world, and you want no part in it, but something in this beast has stirred you awake from a long, cold slumber. It’s infuriating that you can’t dispel a simple animal from your heart. Oldest story in the book, that one, too…

But oh, how you now yearn after some cruel, lowly, dirty beast… The Minotaur already owns you, and he never even had to plunge his sword inside you to prove that. Besides, you would’ve been perfectly willing had he decided to take you on the green grass, under the vast sky, while some noisy goats graze around you. You realize that that’s what you expected to happen, and when it didn’t, you’re left more than disappointed: you're left completely hollow. You always find out these things a little too late, it seems… The Bull is headed for the palace and will likely get killed after he slaughters his cruel father. There’s at least thirty spears in that building, and more will arrive when called.

You arrive at the temple, panting and with your body flushed and weak. The maidens at the entrance share a quick glance with each other before turning their fearful gazes back to you. They’re the youngest arrivals, not even initiates yet; one of them hardly even bleeds.

“The King is dead,” you announce without bothering to even greet them, and the girls huddle up together like they’re a bunch of slaves about to get slapped.

You realize you must look like an animal with your dirty robes, dishevelled hair and your wild, alive stare. No wonder they look like they’ve seen a ghost... You basically are one, coming back from the dead like this.

“What?”

A priestess arrives at the threshold like an image of Hecate herself, dressed in robes as black as the midnight sky, but you don’t shy away from her like you used to.

“Or he will be. Soon. The Minotaur is here.”

“How did you… How did it...”

You’ve never seen the priestess in disarray. She’s always composed, cold and distant, but seeing you like the wraith that you are, freshly escaped from the Labyrinth, spat back from the bowels of the earth like the dark gods didn’t even want you there, makes even the greatest of Hecate’s servants a little uneasy.

She gathers what’s left of her dignity and finds her most commanding voice. Sadly, it doesn’t have the power to shake the ground anymore.

“Where is Theseus of Athens?”

“Disemboweled… is my best guess,” you say in a listless voice, then turn your head toward the smell of fresh fruit.

Normally, you would walk these halls with dignity, but now, you simply barge in and grab the first piece of food you find. You ought to get whipped for your insolence, but no one dares to raise a hand against you. The maids and priestesses stare in shock as you eat and drink like a starved prisoner. You’re a living Hecate in certain aspects, your arrival the first toll of the bell of doom as the palace guards sound the alarm.

So…

The Minotaur has reached the king.

…

The priestesses deem it only logical that the King finally pays for his sins: the gods have been offended by the number of human sacrifices sent to the Labyrinth, and this is their way of exacting revenge. You were only an instrument of their will.

After a quick wash and some more food, you begin to feel like a human again. The maids bring you a new chiton, flowing and white: your old clothes are burned in a brazier as if that would help you forget.

And this might be the only place you don’t get blamed for unleashing a monster. You were at a crossroads with the Minotaur, and anyone would have done the same: try to talk him out of his killing spree, calm him down, entice him with a gift. No one expected that the beast could even speak, so your approach was unusual, perhaps, but it worked. Hecate guided you through the tunnels, even when the candle went out, she stilled the Bull’s loins until you reached the sunlight where the beast got distracted with other things. You leave out the Minotaur's attraction to birds, bees and butterflies because your story is unbelievable enough as it is.

But the Minotaur will be slain after he has done his deed: Minos is the one who should be punished, not the city of Crete. And it is only just to put down this beast, a mercy.

So when he appears between the pillars of temple, this time wholly covered in blood, people are bound to scream. Even the priestesses who are used to seeing blood, shriek like widows when the Minotaur steps inside the holy shrine of Hecate.

“Where is the maiden of the crossroads?”

He came back for you, after all…

The boom of his voice is familiar, and yet, you cower on the bench when you hear it. The Minotaur sounds like he’s an envoy of Hades himself, and while you’re not among those who scream and yell, it still sends shivers down your spine to hear him speak like that.

Or is it the excitement, a tiny flame of hope that makes you quiver like this?

“We all belong to the goddess,” someone peeps, the Minotaur now descending down the stairs.

The massive head turns, gaze like razor sweeping across the marbled shrine. You’re so far back that he can’t catch you, sitting behind many bodies and faces, and before you can force yourself to rise, the main priestess, the oldest, most crooked of the crones, steps forth to meet this beast.

“This is a House of Hecate,” she speaks. “No man is allowed to enter unless they are Death.”

The black carcass turns, but the priestess doesn’t waver. If anything, her spine turns into unbreakable metal before this man’s gaze.

“I am Death,” he says, far more gently than anyone would expect. Then he walks past the crone like she’s just a harmless elder. No one does a thing, because even the head of your temple is powerless now.

“She had a red string and a candle. Where is she?”

He grabs the first woman he sees, and you rise up before he decides it’s time to thrust his blade into someone to loosen the tongues of these women.

“Please,” you take a hesitant step towards your Bull. “I’m here... I’m the one you’re looking for.”

The Minotaur lets go of the frightened initiate the instant he sees you. She’s shoved aside with little interest, the blue eyes behind the corpse now solely fixed on you. The way they soften into hazy ice makes your knees weak – that’s the stare of someone who recognizes their loved one among a thick, dull crowd…

“Come with me,” he extends a hand when he reaches you, strong legs swallowing tiles like he’s in a hurry to get back to you. You open your mouth, close it, and look at his hand, the rough, enormous palm held out for you to place your own little hand in.

“You belong to me,” he says with great weight when you don’t speak. It should spark the ire of the goddess for him to dare to talk to you like this… But mostly, your body sings. It tells you to take a step and take his hand: to let him have you, once and for all.

“My place is here,” you utter, all power gone from your voice. All your dreams, all your fears are offering their hand to you with his, and the maidens, mothers and crones of this hall look upon your exchange with the Bull Man in stupefied silence.

“You were sent down to me,” he presses on. “You are mine now. You belong to me.”

Your body is singing, singing, singing.

It’s not a request… Or a proposal.

It’s a god, taking what’s his.

…

You swallow with nothing in your throat and look at the head priestess with helpless misery: she looks back with the eyes of a noxious Medusa, wholly dispassionate to the problems you brought upon yourself. And what could she even do? She’s unarmed against the claims of Hades: Death is now in love with you, and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do about it.

He doesn’t want to stay in the city, as enchanting as it is, saying that it stinks and that he’s tired of the screams. No one wants him here; he already knows that, and the task he was meant to do is done. He doesn’t seem to be much moved by it either, only asking you if there is a place where he can wash the blood off himself.

People become more bold when they see you walk out of the city. Not even the sight of a crimson demigod makes them watch their tongues. Insults and slurs follow you through the streets, shouts such as “Kingslayer!” and “Beast!” are accompanied with curses such as “You are an abomination!” and “Go back to your lair!”

No one treats him as their prince and savior, no one sees him as the man he truly is. And because hatred thickens in crowds, you get your share of the insults as well.

What kind of a woman would follow a beast like him? Have you sold your soul to the demons of the desert, or has Hades himself forced you to be with this monster? Are you behind the murder of their king?

“Must I remind you?” You turn on your heels, standing tall and proud with the posture of a queen. “According to the old laws, the one who slays the king is the next to rule.”

“You led him out of the Labyrinth, didn’t you?” the voices ask.

“Gave him your cunt, too,” they sneer.

“You’re worse than the bloody Gorgon,” they mock, but you have a thick skin: if anything, you take it as a compliment to be referred to the mighty slayers of men.

What cuts through your heart is the filth and hate they spit at him, the man who has known nothing but loath since he was born.

“Hecate’s whore… I should kill you first,” one soldier shouts with spit running down his chin.

The citizens of Crete would never hail the Minotaur as their king, but none can say the deed didn’t prove great strength. Some would even call it justice. He is the queen’s son, after all: he’s more royal than any of these dung-stinking peasants will ever be. He should never have been sent down to those tunnels in the first place.

Before you know it, the Minotaur swoops past you in haste, diving towards the screaming crowd with hunched shoulders and a fiery breath.

“Stop,” you say, and he halts immediately, gaze still directed to the one who called you a whore. The soldiers back away along with the peasants and tradesmen, these poor, humble Cretes who act like they never meant to be so mean.

“Let us go in peace,” you command, voice unwavering and stern. “Or I will curse you all. You and your families, down to the seventh son and seventh daughter.”

That manages to shut them up. The threat of a curse frightens these poor beasts even more than the enraged Minotaur breathing fire through his helm. No one wants rot and puke to follow them wherever they go; no one wants to doom their offspring with illness, death and sorrow. They disperse in all directions and only hiss and whisper as they go.

You spit on the ground as your last gift to these people, leaving the city of Crete with the ever-adoring Bull at your heels.

“You’re even prettier when you’re angry,” he says while walking next to you, voice thick with genuine passion and awe.

You roll your eyes: any man would cower before Hecate’s curse, but this one? This one only gets more horny.

“Perhaps you are part bull after all,” you retort dryly.

“It takes more than one spear to kill me,” he boasts, but you don’t need more proof of his prowess. Surely, people have tried to kill him in the Labyrinth, but he’s survived every single attempt on his life – for that alone, he should be a decorated hero.

The only thing that makes you annoyed, however, is this childish need to prove he could’ve taken the whole city by himself just because some man happened to call you a slut.

“Mother said I’m a monster instead of a man,” he says, completely unaware that your snap wasn't meant as a compliment. He says it like he’s partly proud of it, and you finally sigh and turn.

“Your mother was heartless. And wrong.”

The Minotaur only looks at you with a building passion that goes straight to your loins.

“But you’re not.”

“...What?”

“Heartless.”

You feel stripped naked before him, the way his eyes seem to burn away your poor dress. But the fact that he unearths your most guarded secret, just like that, is a catastrophe of a far wider scale.

You’re not sure who’s tied to whom anymore… Or if you’re tied to each other, the gods now laughing in their wine as they look down at you two: a fierce and bloodied giant following the maiden he stole like it’s you who took him and not the other way around.

You reach the roaring waters of a waterfall in silence, the night wrapping the lands inside a dark blue veil. Stars will be visible soon, and with the moon creeping up to the sky, you won’t be needing candles tonight. The silver mistress gives plenty of light for you to admire your beast, and compared to the thick darkness of the tunnels you emerged from this morning, it feels like a generous blessing.

You sit on the banks of the small, clear pond, utterly exquisite at nightfall. The sun’s heat has turned into a warm, caressing breeze, and you submerge your feet into the water, giving out a satisfied sigh as the cool pond embraces your travel worn feet. The Bull sinks to a crouch some distance away from you, curious about your obvious moment of pleasure.

“Did you meet her…? Your mother?” You ask from the cool water lapping at your feet – how can a simple man make you feel so restless and shy?

“Did you… kill her?”

“She cursed me,” he says, sullen and wholly unsurprised. Time and time again, you are shocked by the hatred his own kin shows him. How can a mother be so cruel?

“How could I kill my own maker?”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “For everything.”

You swallow before such unwavering love. The same man who cursed the gods yesterday honours the womb he came from so much that he won’t raise a hand against it, not even when his own mother spits curses at him. You don’t know if it’s his greatest strength or biggest weakness, but sometimes you wonder if he’s more human than humans, this beast.

“I’m not,” he retorts immediately. “The king is dead. Mother is safe. I have you... This is the best day of my life.”

You turn to look at him. Time and again, the lack of lies and deceit in this man catches you off guard. It’s more painful than any wound, to see how the Minotaur has no protective skin against the corrupted human nature, that he is human nature before it was defiled.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” you falter.

The chiton pools around your ankles, and you wonder if the man even breathes anymore. You know your skin is glowing with the last rays of the setting sun, you’re aware that the water and moonlight play upon your skin and make you look like an illusion, powerful in its own way.

When have you ever faltered…? Back when you were a little girl, you reckon, the notion euphoric and eerie in your bones.

You rise up and undress before him nonchalantly, trying to ignore the fervid stare of your admirer. Unclasping the brooches holding up your white linen dress, you let it fall down and set you free, secretly reveling in the downright carnal stare now glued to your skin.

Ripe for plucking, you think while stepping out of the pile of cloth and into the thin evening air. His gaze feasts on you: the plump breasts no one ever loved, the vulnerable navel down below, the dark triangle between your legs, the secret power it holds.

Heat pools into your core as you watch him: everything in your body turns warm and soft when you take in the utter heftiness of him. The mean, swelling phallus between his legs, the near inhuman strength those shoulders and chest possess. Your body is the complete opposite of him, ethereal, almost, compared to the absolute brute strength before you.

His eyes linger there the longest until he rises too, stiff and dreamy, a beast entirely taken by a thrall. The loincloth is practically torn away, as if it’s only a nuisance he must get rid of immediately. His eyes never leave your shape while he bares himself, and the phallus, you notice, belongs to a human. It’s thick and wondrous, fully erect, adorned with dark curls and accompanied by a set of balls you’ve mainly seen on horses. Big, full and round but unlike animals, they’re covered in dark fur, almost black here in the evening light. Thick seed beads through the slit of his cock from simply seeing you, and the way his chest heaves makes it clear that this man is ready to mate as soon as he’s allowed to do so.

“You need to take off your helm,” you lift your chin, thoroughly aware of your power over him, even if it’s laughable, a miracle that he doesn’t fuck you on the spot like the animal he is. “You’re a man, not a bull.”

His eyes don’t betray any kind of hesitation. He doesn’t seem to be interested in whether he wears his mask or not. He just blinks as if he’s indeed under a spell and nods.

“If you say so.”

The broad muscles flex as he takes it off, and what is revealed to you from underneath the head is both a surprise and a disappointment. There’s not a monster under there, only a man, a stoic, boorish, shaggy male who’s in desperate need of a wash and a comb. He’s somewhat handsome under all that facial hair and knots, actually, not bad at all – if you like your men rugged and wild.

He lets the head drop to the ground with a thud as if it was never a part of him at all, and follows you into the pool like you’re his mother and he’s your cub about to get scrubbed clean.

He seems to dwarf you, even when half submerged in the pond, leaning back with a sigh not unlike yours. If you’re afraid, your body has a peculiar way of showing it: even in the clear, glossy water, you can feel yourself get wet. Never have you seen such strength, not in any man: in horror and awe, you realize he could be a descendant of Zeus himself. As if providing proof to these claims, he looks up to the sky, mesmerized by the myriad stars dotting the vast, unattainable blue.

Using this momentary distraction to your advantage, you reach to pluck a handful of moss from the bank. With this soft little sponge in your hand, you hope to make it clear that this is indeed a bath, not foreplay.

“They’re stars,” you say softly while slinking closer to him. “Have you ever seen them...?”

“Yes,” he rasps with his head lolled back, throat completely exposed. It always hurts your heart to see that he trusts you so fully. You are no threat to him – even if the gods changed the moss in your hand into a weapon of some sort, you wouldn’t pose any kind of challenge. And still, the way he allows you to creep towards him and wipe his rough hide with the makeshift sponge without so much as flinching is heartbreaking.

“I have forgotten…” his voice drifts off as he examines the night sky, eyes filled with distant, glass-like delight.

“Beautiful, aren’t they...?”

“Your world is pretty,” he brings his gaze back to earth and to you. “But you’re the loveliest thing I’ve seen so far.”

You almost freeze upon hearing that. His compliments always catch you off guard, but this time, something forbidden and long forgotten comes undone: a lost want, no, a need to hear such simple words of shallow praise.

“You do not scream... You do not run. Why?”

Your eyes are liquid, glass about to break as you set yourself on the task of scrubbing him clean. You refuse to get emotional in front of him: an initiate of the dark goddess, shedding tears when a horny man calls her pretty? What utter nonsense.

But then he grabs your wrist: not to seize back power, but to prevent you from escaping this fragile moment.

“You are different,” he agrees calmly, then releases you, but you reckon it’s mostly because he misses the soft rubs you were giving him.

“Perhaps I’m crazy,” you breathe while looking at the damp curls on his chest.

Yes… That’s the only explanation for this madness. It has to be.

“Is that why you took me?”

“I took you because you’re mine. I want you.”

“You can’t just take what you want,” you warn softly.

“Why not?” His head tilts a little to the side as he’s trying to make sense of you and the manners of your world. “Don’t you want to be mine?”

You lift your gaze and risk a look into his eyes, stripped from all facades as always. You even catch a passing wave of worry there: he had counted on you being as fascinated with him as he is with you. The hunger behind that want, the need to be something special to you, is a whole another issue that must wait until your head is more clear. Way more clear…

“Perhaps,” you confess.

“I have nothing to give you,” he shrugs, eyes looking slightly past you this time, out of shame or anxiety. It takes a while for you to understand he’s liking you to the goods at the market and thinks he’s expected to have money to be able to keep you.

“You don’t need to pay for me,” you smile, trying your best to disguise the soft amusement in your voice. His brows only furrow as he tries to calculate and think.

“I don’t understand the rules of this world,” he finally shakes his head.

“I’ll teach you.”

For a while, he only looks on with fascination how you rub his arms and belly, basically massaging him with the wet moss. His eyes drift closed when you scrub the back of his neck, the stout erection only getting thicker under the cool water. You’re careful with his legs, not because you’re afraid he’s ticklish but because you try to avoid touching the huge cock already jutting up from happiness. It gives a few excited bounces when you wash his inner thighs, hopeful to get its needs satiated soon.

“I can hunt for you,” he suggests. “Bring you food… Protect you.”

He’s visibly excited when figuring out a way to give you something in return. He wants to provide offerings for your company, your lore, and eventually, your cunt, too. You might be a virgin, but you’re not stupid: of course he wants the soft, wet prize between your legs. A pair of lovely tits to squeeze at night... Ears to groan hushed confessions into, thighs to nibble, bite and suck until you cry...

“What do you think?” He asks, breath heavy from the bliss you’re already granting him by simply giving him a bath. “I could give you my heat. Please you...”

“You know how to please women?”

“No. But you could teach me.”

The way he says it is not shy. Only tentative. A bear, walking on ice and hoping it would carry his weight. One wrong step and the ice will swallow him, spitting out his bones only in spring.

And then…

“Do you know how to fuck?”

The ice holds, mainly because you’re too shocked to even slap or ridicule this man. His eyes bore into you with such unbridled greed that you have trouble keeping your precious pride intact.

“Of course,” you hear yourself whisper like it would be an insult to your intellect if you didn’t.

“Teach me,” he says, ever more greedily.

“I…”

Your jaw is left open, but not a word comes out. A strong palm closes around your wrist again, this time to bring you flush against him. The water laps at your skin, a distant crow cackles somewhere. Your hand is brought to his phallus, but he doesn’t have to wrap your fingers around it: you do it all by yourself, breath locked in your throat as you feel how hard and blazing he is.

“You want my cock,” he says, mouth only an inch from yours. “Don’t you...?”

You wet your lips – a mistake, because his half-lidded gaze darts to your mouth the instant your pink tongue lashes out. You’re in a predicament, but on the other hand, what else did you expect, taking your clothes off in front of a touch-starved bull?

“I’d give it to you happily,” he insists. “No female ever wanted to spread her legs for me.”

Or a leash.

Your fingers tighten on their own, they mould around him. Like a bond…

“Really?” You breathe. “What fools they were...”

The cock gives a full throb inside your palm, exalted to be yours. But only a moment later, the dreaded Minotaur moves.

You find yourself under him before you can even gasp for air: the soaked, hot body of a giant now pinning you on the grass and crushing you under it with ease. The weight of your error is fully pressed against you: he was never tamed, and you were a fool to think you could put him in chains.

The raw scent of earth and musk fills your nostrils, making the stars above you spin. His cock is trapped between your bodies, giving another rich pulse against your thigh. Gods, if he were throbbing like that inside you…

“You make my skin burn,” he growls into your ear, the heat of his skin now unbearable, the coarse hair prickling your skin from neck to thigh. “My loins, ache…”

“Are you a witch?” He asks, and you finally allow yourself to breathe.

If he only knew… But hexes and charms are of no use for you now: the only thing you can do is moan, apparently, as he dives for your neck, planting barbarous kisses on your skin.

Down, down, down he goes, pure avarice driving him to feast on every part of you. You’re too weak to stop him when he searches for the source of your intoxicating scent. Discovering it between your thighs, he dives nose-first into your sex, meeting your core with a hungry grunt.

Your back arcs with pleasure, your nails sink into his back: a funny thing to do when he’s already as close as can be. The trail of crude kisses leads him to your breasts, and you try to keep your whimpers in control, but a gasp erupts when he drags a hot tongue across your nipple. Massive palms close around your tits while you squirm in his hold: he doesn’t seem to be driven by the need to please you; rather, he wishes to study you first, examine how your body reacts to his groping. He leaves your breasts aching and sore, every bite and suck managing to make you wetter and wetter, your cunt screaming for attention by now.

“Gods...” you wriggle on the soft earthen bed, not expecting him to take you with his mouth first.

He withdraws, only a little, but his voice is surprisingly soft.

“Do I hurt you...?”

“No… But this is not mating…”

“Even I know that much,” he says darkly, and grabs you by the waist, moves you around like a doll until you find yourself on your belly.

He looks at you from between your thighs, demonic and keen. The broad shoulders force your legs wide apart when he’s seated there, waist-deep in the water, with you hauled to the shore like a siren.

Not a moment is wasted as he pulls you back to him by the hips: you’re drawn to all fours, a hot streak of cum dragging on the inside of your thigh from the cock that meets your skin. He grabs and steadies it with an annoyed grunt, and the fat tip is shoved straight into your folds, your nether lips parted with brute force almost.

“Guide me.”

His voice is demanding, impatient as he drags the fat head up and down the entrance of your hole, coating his cock with your slick in the process. You wonder if it’s instinctual, if he knows that this is where he should poke and that it will hurt you less if he’s well-oiled. He’s about to rut you into oblivion the instant you tell him where to shove his cock, and the prospect only sends more sap flowing down your thigh.

“There…” you stutter when he finds it, the aching spot that’s leaking profusely. He pushes the head in, not by teasing but by bullying, almost forcing it inside from how tight and unreceptive you are.

“Tighter than my fist,” is his only comment, and it makes you shudder. “I will not last long…”

You wince from the burn, but the rest of it glides in like a dream, and suddenly you’re filled, to the capacity, one could say. He grunts just from the way your womanhood is hugging him, not sure what this foreign object inside you is – is it a good thing or a threat?

“Easy then,” you breathe a huff into the sweet night air, filled with fireflies and night birds who know nothing about the fucking you’re about to go through.

He doesn’t move – inside you, that is. Outside, he crawls forward until he moulds around you, heavy body enveloping you completely. The hairs on his thighs tickle the back of your legs, his chest scrapes your back just so as he demonstrates how you belong to him in every way. But when your cunt starts to squeeze him again, he swallows thickly.

“Does this feel good to you too…?”

You catch faint confusion and concern in his voice, astonished that such a soft, frail body like yours can take his cock just like that. Little does he know you’re still adjusting to his size, thanking all the gods that he doesn’t move yet.

“Yes,” you confess because it does feel good: his thickness inside you, stretching you both gently and violently, studying how it feels to be inside a loving, wet heat.

“Then I will fuck you every day,” his lips come to brush your ear. “Many times...”

You hear yourself whimper, more humble now than ever. No man would dare to take you on all fours, but here you are, like a bought bride about to get stuffed…

He withdraws a little, asks, “Like this?” when he returns with a rough, nasty thrust. The balls meet your mound, heavy on the tender nub you’ve flicked when you’re lonely, covering your mouth while you do it. Both your hands are planted on the ground now, your legs spread before this beast, cunt filled to the brim with his cock.

“Not so rough,” you warn, and he heeds your instructions to the letter until he’s moving in and out with a slow, delicious pace that allows you to feel every thick bump of him. Soaked now down to your thighs, the sounds of your mating is utterly sloppy and slick, and of course he’s curious.

“Are you always like this…?”

“Like… what,” you huff in between the slow, torturous thrusts.

“Soft,” he rasps. “Tight… Wet like rain.”

“No. It’s just when…”

“When you want to fuck?”

You whimper for an answer, mostly because he starts to slip from the agreed sluggish pace. His cock invades you with more urgency, chasing the eruption that must be generous from those thick balls that should belong to a horse.

“I knew it…” he says dreamily behind you. “Some women want to mate with bulls...”

He punctuates his newfound pride with a full, deep thrust, and you wince.

“You’re not a–”

“Keep telling yourself that, little maiden.”

He exhales a hot smile next to your ear, and you’re neck deep in love. Your mouth hangs open, your lids half closed and fluttering from the way he pounds into your poor, abused cunt. Heavy balls slap your swollen nub with careless abandon, making you squeeze his thickness every time he hits the end of you. His grunts become more animalistic with every thrust, and your cunt is a wild thing, leaking and weeping and throbbing until you fear there’s something wrong with you – no woman is supposed to be this needy for a beast…

I’m going to come… You realize in horror as the slick sounds of fucking overthrow even the coursing roar of the waterfall. The knowledge shoots your body full of dark, hot ink; it explodes inside your core like a liquid star, throbbing through your cunt currently being ploughed like you’re nothing but a needy, sloppy hole for him. You’re swimming in so much pleasure that it’s almost painful, the revelation some secret of the gods, no doubt.

He growls when you moan, heavy arm snaking its way around your middle to keep you in place for him. The purr is eager and low, the rumble erupts from his chest like a thick, loving volcano, a statement of how perfect you are. He nuzzles his nose into your neck and rubs his scent all over you while fucking you through it, the divine rapture that leaves your throat dry from moans.

He doesn’t need to be told what it means when you’re crying like that: he doesn’t need to be explained that his cock is giving you ample pleasure. It’s so desperate, how much he wants to both fuck and please you, just own you and fulfill you, that you start to shake, your frail body not capable of handling the orgasm he just gave you.

Your strength fails, and you find yourself on your elbows, cunt even more exposed to him now, the cock pistoning into you with a relentless pace. He’s like a titan upon you, taking pleasure from your quivering, weak frame and the tight wet hole that belongs to it. You’re still in rapture when he starts to sound like broken, wounded man.

“You were made for me,” he huffs. “You were made...for me…”

His voice evaporates along with your thin, adoring mewls, just before he fucks himself over the edge. You can feel the hot, thick spurts, filling you as he roars into your hair, balls pressed flush against your sex, thighs meeting yours in a moment frozen in time.

They can probably hear him all the way to the city, hear what a cunt like yours does to an invincible beast like him… But his cries are only met with silence; the night sky looks back with disinterest, the birds continue their songs when they notice it was only the roar of a mighty beast that filled the land. Before long, he’s groaning above you, using your hole more softly; loving it until the last drop is milked.

When he stops, his whole body is trembling from release, but you’re not given a moment of reprieve. He forces you to the ground with him on your back, the rough, thick body never leaving yours. Coarse beard chafes your neck, his body trapping you completely under him, he even opens his jaw to take your shoulder between his teeth and bites you while his cock is still pulsing fat inside you.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he pants into your ear, angry, almost.

“Good,” you breathe a smile, but he’s not satisfied.

“You couldn’t get enough of me too… I noticed.”

“You gave me pleasure,” you agree. “Lots of it.”

“That was a lot of seed… I haven’t spilled in days.”

He huffs into your ear, astonished and proud that he could do such a thing. You feel him shift to take a better look at you, fingers arrive to graze your temple as if to make sure you’re real, as if having his cock inside you wasn’t enough proof of that. They’re a little shaky, a little uncouth, but the touch is gentle enough, and sweet.

He's boasting again perhaps, you don’t know, but you give him a soft laugh, notice how he stops breathing momentarily when hearing the bright sound.

“I am filled to the brim with you, yes… It will take a while before I can take more.”

“...You have other holes in you,” he offers after a while, quite seriously, in fact.

“Get off me, you beast,” you huff and squirm to get out from under him, but there’s a luscious grin on your face, a smile that tells him you would more than approve of his obscene ideas later.

“This feels good,” he murmurs into your hair. “This feels right...”

He allows you to leave from under him, only whines when his cock gets exiled from your cunt. He misses the wet heat like a newborn child misses the womb, but you need to recover from the recent invasion. Seed gushes out from your hole, making a mess on the ground as he pulls you against him, wanting to cuddle you next.

You wonder if he even knows what cuddling means as you lie there with a sticky mess between your legs and the heat of an entire sun on your cheeks. You smile into the coarse, sweaty body hair tickling your nose, deciding it doesn’t matter whether he knows or not: the most important thing is that he wants to hold you like this.

“Yes,” you smile. “This feels right…”

Something blooms in your chest. An odd flower, persistent and sweet.

The stars above are cold but motherly as they look down on you two: born again into a world that doesn’t want either of you. The only things that accept you now are flowers, birds, the wind and the rain, bees and salty sea, but that’s aplenty. That’s more than the whole of Crete could ever give you.

“Are you thinking about your hero,” he asks above you.

“What? No…”

“Good,” he rasps, so softly now that you start to fear he’s about to cry.

You are more than capable of lying, but Theseus hasn’t crossed your mind in hours: the last time it did, the memory was received with loath and disdain. Thinking about Theseus while you’re draped all over your Bull, his seed flowing out of your womb... What a ridiculous idea.

The reason for his hardly disguised anger is laid out plain before you: he's just jealous like any other man. Somehow, it makes you feel even more glowy inside.You’re my hero, you want to say, but have no courage to spill out the words. He was balls deep inside you mere moments ago, but telling him this intimate truth seems to be too much.

It never occurred to him, then, that you would enjoy copulating with him. He fucked you with the impression that you needed thoughts of another man to make you wet… That perhaps with the help of the image of Theseus in your mind, you were able to come with his cock inside you.

“My Bull,” you whisper. “Tell me your name. You must have a name…?”

His breath stops only for a moment, the heart in his chest gives an arduous beat before he answers.

“Asterion.”

Starry one…

Of course.

All monsters have names, usually the opposite of what they’re claimed to be. His birth is in heaven, in the stars; he belongs to the company of heroes and gods.

“Asterion,” you whisper it out into the night air while the animal an man both find their new home in your arms. “Your birth is written in the stars. Did you even know…?”

“Does that make me a hero?” He snorts, more old wounds torn open right before your eyes.

You wriggle yourself out of his hold, but he avoids your stare. You lift a hand to bring those beautiful Olympian eyes back to you.

“It makes you immortal.”

Perhaps you should’ve known he would be enticed with an apple instead of tethers and deals. Or with a palm, held out with no intent to strike…

It’s lovely, how he blinks every time he’s confused. You’ve yet to see him shy, but if he ever is, this might be the moment… You even catch him swallowing under that wild facial hair, an awkward blob right after that blink when his birthright is acknowledged.

But even more dumbfounded he becomes when he realizes you’re truly and veritably admiring him. When you whisper it to him – you’re my hero – and watch something shatter in him that was supposed to wrench itself free, that’s when he’s truly granted divinity.

Perhaps it was all about becoming animal again, allowing the other to have a sniff. Baring your throat and embracing the instinct to trust. Marrying your wild soul… The deepest magic of all.

#könig x reader #könig cod #könig x you #konig x reader #könig mw2 #konig x you #könig smut #könig fanfiction #konig smut #cod könig

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gutsby · 3 months

Text

Hating Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Celebrating your dad’s birthday at the yacht club becomes damn near unbearable when Joel Miller brings a date along too. Jealousy and hate sex ensue.

Warnings: 18+. Food fight turned hatefuck (don’t ask). Cockwarming and semi-public sex on the bridge deck. Oral (m! and f!receiving). Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Age gap. C*mplay. Katoptronophilia. Orgasm denial. One risqué Viagra joke. Drinking games. Descriptions of vomiting. Joel cockwarming you while smoking a cigarette <3

Part 1 | Part 3

"Can ya try that one more time, sweet pea? For daddy?"

You can. Try, anyway. Controlling your tongue while he’s buried so deep inside you is a far harder task than expected, though. Especially when he’s so still.

Joel sees it. Feeling a twinge of pity, he leans over your body and digs his hips even deeper—not thrusting, but still granting a modicum of friction as he takes another drag of his cigarette. The hot, heavy throb of his girth pulses like your own fucking heartbeat, and your eyes roll back.

An orangutan on roller skates would’ve had more grace.

A grizzly bear in hibernation might’ve been more lively.

A fucking cross-eyed octopus reciting Shakespeare would’ve been less strange, alarming, and painfully awkward to see than your father’s best friend the week after he’d railed you senseless in the front seat of his car.

Joel Miller had shown up with a date, for Christ’s sake.

Of course, you’d been three cocktails deep and playing stack cup with a random group of gentlemen on the bridge deck at the time, but that was almost immaterial. This was your dad’s fifty-first birthday party—one of the rowdiest nights the Austin Yacht Club had yet to see—and yeah, you planned on getting belligerently shitfaced on Dirty Shirleys and obscene amounts of catered food.

You’d never thought to bring a date of your own, though.

That was just distasteful and crass, all things considered.

Presently, you slammed your ping pong ball to the tabletop and watched it make a wide arc over your cup.

“Fuckfuckfuuuuuck,” you whispered low as the man four spots down made it in, and the man after him bounced the ball straight into his own on the first go. He moved the tall, swaying stack of red Solos immediately to your right, and you knew from the jump you were fucked.

Tommy Miller was a master at stack. You could already see the sly smile on his face from the corner of your eye.

Just as Mötley Crüe gave way to Hall & Oates on the speakers overhead, Joel’s brother crammed his stack of cups over your own and made a smug, triumphant bow.

“All you, kid,” he grinned and slid the second to last cup in your direction.

You could’ve cursed his whole bloodline, Joel included.

There was no way in hell you were getting stuck with death cup again—the last, cruel punishment for the loser of the game a mix of three different types of liquor, soda, and a spritz of Natty Light. Filled to the brim and waiting to be downed by whoever didn’t sink the final shot.

You squared your shoulders and locked the fuck in.

Bounced the ball once. Twice. Christ, this was hard. The man to your left was struggling too, but he seemed just as determined and twice as skilled, and you were pretty buzzed. A second later, he made it in and, of course, slid it right back to Tommy, who was practically overcome with laughter.

“MILLER! MILLER! MILLER!” Men were not creative when it came to chants. Or beating fists on furniture.

“Quit shakin’ the shit!” Tommy roared, tapping his ping pong ball deftly onto the table’s surface.

You blinked a few hazy, anxious thoughts out of your head and tried with everything in you not to miss this shot. The instrumental bridge of ‘Maneater’ was sinking its teeth in your soul and taunting your nerves to no end.

You took the ball, swallowed hard, watched the cup, and flicked your wrist, at last, from a singularly perfect angle.

The ball was a millisecond away from making it in.

Tommy Fuckstick Miller managed to stack you first.

A chorus of obnoxious, wholly drunk howls rang loud in your ears, and suddenly, the attention was back on you, the unhappy victim of the game’s most gruesome drink.

You didn’t hesitate. You pinched your nose and guzzled from the cup before the torment could go on any longer.

You did well at first.

Opened your throat like a pro and cleared it down to the last fourth of the drink, to the point where you could see the slick white bottom side of the cup clear as day.

Your mouth had just flooded with the final draught of death cup when a familiar guitar riff caught you off guard.

You weren’t sure why it had to happen that way, but after being forced to listen to the song some five thousand times on your road trip with Joel, the tenor of Billy Joel’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard to you now. Grating. Nauseating.

Vomit-inducing.

Swiftly, you ran to the nearest railing and lost your last drink—and your whole dinner—over the side of the boat.

You yakked into Lake Travis like you never had before.

And, just as that stupid, forever-tainted song surged on, you heard footsteps approaching. A moment’s pause. Then a hand on your back. Patting gently and, seconds later, lowering a cup of water to the side of your head.

Your face was still dangling upside down off the yacht. You didn’t want to be touched.

“Go to hell, Tommy,” you muttered.

“You first,” he said, chuckling.

You didn’t sit so much as slump back onto the deck with your head in your hands. The whole boat had gone sideways in your mind, and Tommy’s outstretched arm looked more like a bubbling lump than a friendly gesture.

You groaned at the sight of the cup and shook your head.

“I’m alright, okay. I’m good.”

Then, when the cup didn’t waver:

“Can they change the fucking song already?!”

Tommy cocked a brow and squatted down next to you. He set the water aside.

“Got a problem with dad rock or somethin’?” he smirked.

You shook your head no—it wasn’t the music that was making you sick but the man Tommy called his brother that made you wanna vomit again. The thought of that man tangled up with a svelte brunette who looked fresh off the cover of Sports Illustrated when he couldn’t even be bothered to shoot you a text after the condom broke last week. Like he just didn’t give a shit if you were alive, dead, or pregnant with his child. Unfortunately, you had nothing more to throw up, and your eyes were on fire.

Tommy slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. Took a handkerchief out of his pocket.

“No more Dirty Shirleys for you, young lady,” he chided, dabbing lightly at the tears that had trickled out.

“No more men for me,” you grumbled quietly.

You couldn’t see it then, but you could feel him trying not to smile. He tugged you closer.

“Boy trouble, huh?” he said, “Whose ass needs kickin’?”

Your brother, actually. Curb stomp that fucker, please.

You shrugged instead.

“Some guy from school.”

Tommy nodded, waiting for you to elaborate. When you didn’t, he just assumed you wanted to keep it to yourself—which you did—and squeezed your shoulder softly.

“Well…you know you’ve got your dad, me, and Joel to beat the shit outta any guy, any time, any place, right?”

You wished it were that simple. You wiped your nose and nodded all the same.

“And…” Tommy started again, working slow to get you back on your feet, “Most guys your age don’t know their ass from their fuckin’ elbow, honeybun. Don’t take it too personal if he’s dumb enough to lose a gem like you.”

The corners of your lips twitched slightly at his words. Almost smiling by the time he had you up on your feet.

“Thanks, Tommy.”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

You might’ve rolled your eyes when he pinched your cheek, but the water he held back up for you to drink looked far too appetizing, and you knew he meant well. You took the cup from him and started to chug.

Again, you’d almost made it through the whole refreshment when a sound threw you off. Abruptly.

“Where have you two lovebirds been?!” Tommy chirped.

You lowered your water and almost regurgitated again. Bile jumped up in your throat, and you just narrowly managed to keep it all down with a cough and a sputter.

Joel and Ms. Centerfold were at the far end of the deck.

Joel was tucking his dress shirt back into his pants.

Are you fucking kidding me?

“Gettin’ nasty on her daddy’s yacht? That’s bold,” Tommy cackled, nudging you playfully.

Your face was bloodless. Every last ounce of pretense and decorum had spilled out with your dinner, before, and now you were just staring at Joel blankly. Numb.

You watched him shove the last clump of his shirt under the waistband and straighten up slightly. The woman at his side flashed you and Tommy a blinding white smile.

“Might say the same for you,” she called back. She seemed to be eyeing you both with a half-curious look.

Tommy made a face as if to say ‘yuck—what the fuck?’ and threw his arm around you again, shaking you lightly.

“She’s like my little sister, Ashton. You’re fuckin’ gross.”

Little sister. Nice. Like a knife twisting inside your gut.

If Joel took any notice of the comment, he didn’t show it. He just stood there, dull and impassive as a loaf of bread. Every coarse lineament of his face was unreadable—just as bleak, bland, and uncaring as the eyes staring out of it. Then he fished around in his back pocket and pulled out his lighter and a pack of American Spirits. He passed the latter to Ashton and leaned over to give her a light.

Throwing yourself off the boat seemed like the most logical next move out of anything available to you.

That’s when you knew you were off your shit and needed to leave the bridge deck—immediately.

“Need a drink,” you mumbled, starting off the other way.

Tommy was hot on your heels, following fast after you.

“That’s— that’s actually the last thing you need, I think, sweetie. How ‘bout some lemonade?”

“Can you spike it with bleach?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Tommy followed you down the staircase straight through to the galley, past the throngs and pockets of partygoers crowding the main dining area. Hitting the bar was a bad idea—wait staff knew you well enough to sense when you were utterly trashed, sad, or both—so you slipped toward the wine cooler and quickly sidestepped Tommy.

“No! No way. Nuh-uh.” He was still trying to block your access to the fridge when you grabbed hold of the door.

“Hair of the dog, Thomas.”

“That’s not a thing. That’s— you just projectile vomited off the deck, dude. You need a breather.”

You stopped just long enough to let Tommy pry you off the refrigerator handle and back to the kitchen island. You were pissed off, sure, but also not nearly prepared for another drop of alcohol if you were being honest with yourself. Your head was still spinning when you sat down on the counter.

Once you were settled, Tommy got to rifling through the cabinets, and you pressed a hand to your forehead.

“So how long’s that been going on?” You couldn’t help it.

“Wha- oh, Joel and Ash?” Tommy hummed from deep inside a cupboard. He came out with a small blue box.

You winced at the nickname. Watched him go from the pantry to the sink, fill a glass halfway, find a spoon, and tear the box in two, along with a couple chalky tablets.

“They’ve been…weird.” The sentence was punctuated with a pinch of his brow and a frown. He started stirring.

“Weird how?”

Your feet were dangling over the edge of the island; you pretended to gain a sudden interest in a smudge on the toe of your shoe.

“Weird like…I don’t know,” Tommy tossed the spoon in the sink and turned back to you. Holding out the cup, “They’ve been ‘friendly’ for years—Ash is a coworker of ours—and Joel swears it’s nothing more…but I dunno.”

He ended his speech again with that weird intonation and grimace, like he wasn’t so sure if he believed what he was saying himself, then shook his head and shrugged. He watched you take a sip of the Alka-Seltzer and urged you to get the whole thing down. It tasted like shit.

“Christ, that’s salty,” you coughed.

You didn’t want to keep going, but Tommy tipped the glass back in your hand and made you finish.

“It’ll help with your stomach,” he said before strolling over to the caterers’ fridge to look for bland food options.

“So if they’re not a thing, why’d he bring her here?”

You didn’t care what Tommy thought of your questions. He knew you were eager to hear the tea in any situation.

You watched as your friend procured a hand of bananas and some bread. He gave the fruit to you and took the bread over to the toaster, where he dropped in two slices. You couldn’t quite tell if he was contemplating an answer, didn’t want to spill, or hadn’t heard the question at all. He snagged a plate and a butter knife while you peeled apart your snack, silently dying to know the truth.

At length, Tommy shrugged. Again.

“‘Cause Joel’s a goddamn drama queen and doesn’t know what he wants, I s’pose,” he said.

Ain’t that the truth.

Then, after a minute:

“Had his panties in a wad ever since he went to Boston.”

You stiffened hearing that. You couldn’t pretend to be invested in your shoe scuff, the floor, or the food in your hand any longer. Your eyes flitted up to Tommy to see if his expression had shifted any.

It hadn’t—he was just looking for strawberry jam.

“You hitched a ride home with him then, didn’t you?” he asked casually.

You swallowed and nodded. You watched Tommy retrieve the two freshly-warmed pieces of toast that jumped up to greet him and, having found the jam he wanted, slapped them both on a plate and lathered them up. You muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ as he slid them over.

You were almost too scared to ask more questions, but you knew you had to find out. About Joel, Ashton, anything Tommy might’ve gleaned about your trip home from Boston. You found you could hardly sit in one place and had to step off the counter to eat your food.

“Joel’s been, uhh…how do Gen Z’s say it? Trippin’ balls?” Tommy reached for a banana himself and started in.

“Tweaking,” you corrected him.

“Tweakin’, yeah. Joel’s been a real fuckin’ tweaker lately.”

“In what way?”

“Just…shuttin’ himself in is all. Wouldn’t talk to me or your dad or anybody for days after he got back. Didn’t show up for our monthly Bingo matchup at Mando’s—and he hasn’t missed one of those in almost six years.”

You pursed your lips, equally mystified. You knew just how seriously your dad and his friends took those games—how rare it was for Joel to turn down any opportunity to drink, play Star Wars-themed Bingo, and shoot the shit with his buddies over Coors Light and cheese curds. You took another bite and waited for Tommy to continue.

“And there’s— there was this…thing he— I dunno.”

Suddenly, it seemed your friend had lost the power of coherent speech, and he was rubbing the back of his neck, flashing a half-sheepish smile, and shaking his head. Contemplating whether he should share something with you and ultimately deciding against it.

You raised both eyebrows.

“What?”

“Nah, it’s dumb, really.”

“Tell me.” You took a far-too-large bite of your banana and had some trouble getting it down.

“Well, he…” Tommy trailed off, shifting his gaze from yours to take a look at his own shoe, for a second, “When me and your dad were riding with Joel to a work site…we, uh…found a box of Plan B in his glove compartment.”

Half-chewed banana and toast almost flew across the room while you spluttered and choked and just barely managed to cover your mouth to keep it all in.

“Right? Threw me for a loop, too,” Tommy grinned as you beat your chest with a fist and fought to keep yourself breathing, “Your dad damn near had a baby when he picked that little box and those booty shorts up himself.”

When he what?! You wanted to scream, just picturing your straight-laced, conservative father flipping a Plan B box between his hands, in shock, and then…your shorts—when the fuck had you taken your shorts off again?

Right, when you were busy trying to scoop some more of Joel’s jizz from your cunt as he raced you both to CVS.

Good times.

You held your hair back and leaned over the sink, spitting two more chunks of banana and bread down the drain. Tommy reached around behind you for the spigot and filled another glass with water as he tried not to laugh.

“Easy, now,” he said, patting your back like he’d done for you before, “Joel didn’t happen to mention this lady friend to you now, did he?”

“No,” you choked. You wiped your mouth clear of any spit and food residue and slowly blinked down into the sink, feeling an old wave of nausea begin to settle over you. Accepted the new glass of water from Tommy and hoped he wouldn’t notice the tremor in your hand as you did.

The man seemed completely oblivious. Still standing close behind you, Tommy rubbed circles in your back and leaned a little closer.

“Death cup really got ya, huh?” He smirked, and you realized then that he very much was like an older brother. This whole situation with Joel was fucked on so many levels and would be fucked tenfold if Tommy ever found out.

You turned around and felt yourself steadied between two warm, broad palms—‘Wanna sit? Lie down?’—and then you were shaking your head, reaching for another banana and trying like hell to seem semi-composed, though every neuron in your brain was firing away at a million miles per second and your legs were feeling like scrambled eggs.

“I’m okay.”

“Yeah?”

Suddenly, one of Tommy’s hands had moved up to brush a few strands of hair from your face, and you felt your skin radiating raw heat. A deep-seated anxiety, too.

He’s going to find out—what if he already knows?

What if Joel tells Tommy?

What if Tommy tells dad?

Your mind was reeling, on fire, still working in earnest to find something to tell your friend to say you were fine, just dizzy, and definitely not fucking his big brother.

Your brain was drawing blank after blank after blank.

Just then, a clatter sounded nearby. Both of you jumped.

When you shot a look to the source of the intrusion, you nearly folded into Tommy from secondhand humiliation.

“Nice hands, feet,” the younger Miller called over to Joel, who was currently trying to recover the dozen-odd pots and pans he’d knocked over at the threshold of the room. You stared at the two in a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and disgust—the latter reserved exclusively for Joel.

You set your drink down, held your hand over your stomach, and pretended to head for the bathroom.

“Be right back,” you muttered, brushing past both men.

You knew you wouldn’t be back at all if you could help it.

Still clutching your banana in one hand and your raucously churning tummy in the other, you climbed the galley stairs fast to get back up to the bridge deck. You almost tripped over both your heels trying to make it up the steps so quick, desperate for solitude and quiet.

Another hair metal hit from the ‘80s was playing overhead, but fortunately, the deck was free of people. You stumbled over to one of the catering tables, looking helplessly for something that might settle your belly, but no, this sickness was coming straight from your head—from that insufferable munch of a man, Joel Miller.

You gingerly approached the railing behind the table and prepared yourself for another round of dry heaving.

You rested both elbows on the metal, looked out toward the dark, glassy water beneath you, then hung your head in abject defeat. You slid your tongue across the roof of your mouth and waited for the vomit to come.

The only thing that followed were footsteps.

Heavy, thunderous sounds making their way up the stairs.

“Stay back, Tommy. Please.” You raised a hand to the man approaching softly behind you, not turning your head, “That Alka-Seltzer stuff didn’t work for shit.”

“Shoulda stuck to water, sweet pea.”

That made you pivot.

Not a quick tilt of the head or a twist to the side, but a full-fledged 180-degree spin on your heels, hand to your gut, what-the-FUCK-are-you-doing-here turnaround.

You stared ahead and felt sicker than you had all night.

Then, pointing one crooked, accusatory finger his way without thinking, you hardly knew or heard what you were saying before the words came out. It sounded a little something like, “Joel, you goddamn fucking idiot.”

Joel didn’t flinch.

In fact, he seemed supremely unfazed.

He just held your fuming gaze and frowned.

“You tryin’ to fuck my little brother or somethin’?”

Your hand had closed around your banana on the table before his words had hung in the air for even a second. You flung the fruit full-force at his head, enraged.

Unfortunately, you were drunk and your aim was shit. Your yellow boomerang-like weapon of choice barely made it within three feet of its target before it glanced off a light fixture and struck the ground with a thud.

Accuracy be damned, you weren’t quite done.

“You left the fucking Plan B out for my dad to find?!”

Just when Joel tried to answer, or perhaps hurl another accusation in your direction, you stuck your hand in the closest catering tray you could find—a serving of green peas, as it was. You lobbed a handful at the man as he started to draw closer, and this time, you managed to land a pretty hefty spray. Joel only rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t leave it there—you did,” he retorted.

“My shorts, too?!”

You grabbed another fistful of peas and threw it. Joel was able to dodge it right before making it to the other end of the table. He gripped the edges of the wood in both hands and stood stern—imposingly—opposite you.

“Your shorts, your fuckin’ problem, sweets.”

Just when you reached for another green pea projectile, he surprised you and made for the tray right beside it.

Shortly, a glob of garlic mashed potatoes struck the front of your dress and slid slow, almost sluggishly down the pristine pink silk fabric before falling at your feet. Joel’s aim was evidently much better than yours.

You brushed what chunks of food you could get off your chest and pinned him with a wide, incredulous look.

“You’re a Grade A fucking asshole, you know that?”

“You’re a bit of a shithead too, potato tits.”

“FUCK you!”

“Already DID!”

You would’ve flipped the whole table if it were in your power to do so. Would’ve toppled all the tables, kicked the chairs, took a lighter to the curtains and sent the goddamned yacht down in flames if you had to—that was how much you despised the man in front of you.

Instead, you threw your hands up and stormed off.

“Maybe I will fuck Tommy!” you barked as you started toward the stairs, “I’ll fuck your brother’s brains out, and you can screw Ashton all you want, how ‘bout that?”

You’d made it about two feet before Joel grabbed hold of one of your wrists and yanked you back. You didn’t hesitate to throw a gruff—and ultimately fruitless—punch that hit him square in the chest. He didn’t budge.

“You don’t mean that,” Joel sneered. He shook your whole frame with one simple flick of his forearm.

“I’ll tap your whole bloodline like a keg, Miller. Try me.”

Again, you tried to shake him off, but the hand only constricted around you tighter. Then it was walking you backwards, slowly, almost carefully, until your back was to a wall and your eyes were searching his, angry as ever.

“You’d break your daddy’s heart with that one,” Joel said just above you, voice lowered considerably.

“Yeah?” you challenged, “Maybe if I was less of a shithead I would care what my dad thought. But I’m not. So I won’t.”

“Wasn’t talkin’ about your father, darlin’.”

Joel was good.

He was an insufferable ass and he was good.

Then you remembered the radio silence over the past seven days and the fact that he may or may not have fucked someone else earlier that night—possibly right where you were standing—and he lost all appeal real quick. You shoved him hard in the chest once more.

“Don’t play that shit with me. You, of all people—” You made as if to read him the riot act but cut yourself short, deciding it wasn’t worth your time explaining human empathy to a man who believed bootcut jeans and all things Ely Cattleman were peak fashion, and just learned what ovulation was last week. Then, sliding along the wall and trying to head to the stairs again, you felt Joel’s leg slot between your own.

“What did I do?” he said, curious.

Before you could answer, his thigh had stirred in place, grazing lightly over the spot the hem of your minidress had exposed to him. You ignored it.

“Doesn’t matter,” was your non-answer.

Joel seemed intrigued by the ambiguity and only lowered his head to get closer to yours—‘Then why’re ya so mad you’re throwin’ dinner food at me, darlin’?’—puffing warm breaths on your neck and only smiling when you flinched back. He took your response as a cue to keep pressing, both figuratively and physically.

“Just wanted attention or somethin’? That what it is?” Joel’s voice was as saccharine as it was taunting, words paired with a hand circling light across your thigh. He wasn’t moving in, and it was tearing you to shreds inside.

“Fuck your attention, and fuck you, Joel.”

Words hardly reflecting how you felt internally.

Swiftly, then, the hand at your leg was raised to your face—cupping it with a bit more force than you expected. Joel’s grin stretched even wider.

“Attention and discipline,” he mused aloud, “Two things dad never gave his little girl growin’ up, I see.”

Before you could reply, he was squeezing your face even tighter and nodding his head, as if already anticipating your answer. Then, somehow lower, “Such a filthy mouth on her, too. Never knows when to keep it shut and how to be polite to someone who fucked her so nice already.”

You might’ve whimpered if you didn’t also want to throat punch the motherfucker and knee him in the balls. When Joel started stroking your cheek, you groaned instead, and you hoped he would hear it as chagrin, not arousal.

“I can help with both of those, y’know—” His thumb rubbed a little harder, and his leg moved up. You pressed your hands flat to his thigh to keep him from teasing, but the man would do no such thing to oblige you. In fact, he just shifted his leg back and forth…and back, again. A ripple of bliss from the friction sparked low inside you.

“I can give you attention, and I can scrub that mouth clean if that’s what you really need,” Joel continued, “Just say the word, darlin’.”

“Fucker.” That was your word.

And it worked well enough for Joel.

In the next instant, he had you half-carried, half-dragged across the deck and thrown onto the table where you’d lost that dreaded game of stack. Solo cups still littering the surface, and puddles of beer soaking in through your dress, you made a sound of disgust and tried to thrust yourself up, just to fail. You squirmed and swatted at the man standing in front of you, who easily kept you pinned to the surface with one palm laid calmly on your belly.

He reached into the back pocket of his trousers and retrieved his lighter and cigarette pack.

“Someone could catch us,” you hissed, helpless, unsure of what else to say to show you weren’t giving in just yet.

Joel lit up in four seconds flat. He sucked in a breath.

“I roped off the stairs coming up,” he replied.

He what?

You moved back, slowly, on the surface when Joel worked a hand to his belt buckle, and you heard half a dozen plastic cups fall to the floor behind you.

You would not be his date’s sloppy seconds—ever.

Joel yanked at your thighs and pulled you back to be straddling his hips, shrugging his pants down; you couldn’t bear to keep looking when he lowered his briefs.

He took another drag and eyed you hungrily, happy to see you all sprawled out and pretty before him. The tight fabric of your dress had cinched over your hips and left you bare to just panties, making him grow even harder.

“Joel.”

He worked his dick out of his pants and moved the head to trail slow along the seam of your barely-clothed cunt. Even through the lace, he could feel how wet you were. He notched the tip at the space where your panties had parted just slightly to the side and felt your arousal pool even wetter around the end of his member. He grunted.

“Joel, I—”

“Daddy’s gonna give ya attention, sugar. Hold still.”

You couldn’t. Wouldn’t. You splayed your fingers over the hand that was trying to guide his cock into you and clenched your jaw—every carnal fibre in your being telling you not to do what you were about to try anyway.

“You fucked her didn’t you?”

Joel flicked the ash off his cigarette, “No.”

“You brought her here.”

“Had to.”

Your face was flushed and likewise flooded with smoke, curling slow from Joel’s lips before it painted the air an opaque, muddied grey above you. You wriggled your hips away from his, and for once, he didn’t try to stop you.

“I saw you tucking your shirt in. Tommy said you fucked!”

“Tommy’s about one fry short of a Happy Meal, honey,” Joel puffed once more, “He’s always sayin’ shit like that.”

Incredibly, he’d managed to use about a dozen funny words in that old Texas lilt and still say so little to actually answer your question. When the pinch in your brow told him you weren’t quite satisfied, Joel let out a sigh.

“Ash spilled pebre on my shirt. I had to change.”

Oh.

“And you—” you started.

“—have no fuckin’ right to know, one way or the other, because you’re the one who said we’d just ‘fuck and forget it,’ remember?” Joel interrupted, reminding you of your own curt words from your Bronco boning session.

Again, you tried to speak and found yourself spoken for, Joel carrying on as casual as ever as he sucked the last life-breath from his cig and stared you down, cynically.

“Your dad’s the one who made me bring her tonight. Said I seemed ‘down’ since the last gal I fucked wasn’t around—I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was his daughter—and here we are,” Joel smiled, wryly, and flicked his cigarette into the lake. You would’ve liked to tell him littering was a crime that trashed us all but refrained.

You were too busy staring at his lips, wondering why he hadn’t kissed you yet. You reckoned all the pea flinging, swearing, and swinging might’ve played a small part.

At length, Joel slid a new American Spirit out of its pack and wrangled you back to his hips as he lit up again.

“Happy?” he said, after a beat.

You weren’t sure whether to nod or cross your arms. Beckon him in with both hands or kick his bunched-up pants, belt, and boxer briefs away altogether and keep the bratty act going. You didn’t like being wrong.

At any rate, it didn’t matter. He’d called you on your bluff.

Still smoking, still smiling, still happy as a clam at high tide, Joel pressed his length straight up to your folds and watched you squirm on the wood underneath him.

“Gonna listen now?” he hummed.

“Uh-huh.”

Good, his wretchedly deep brown eyes seemed to say. Good that you were here, good that you were spread wide and supine beneath him, good that you’d gone all soft and pliable under his touch and were watching him now with a look that said you’d let him do just anything.

Good that he could fuck you.

Great that he wasn’t planning to—not fully, anyway.

Joel wasted no time taking your answer in the affirmative to slip past your panties and push deep inside your sweet cunt. When your walls stretched and cried all around him, he sighed and gripped your legs even tighter. He gritted the cigarette between his teeth and brought your ankles to rest over his shoulders, sinking in even deeper. Then he had to hold steady inside you and keep you flat on the table in front of him, and just when you whined to fuck me now, Joel, fuck me right now, daddy, please, he stilled. He took a big, long drag and didn’t move an inch.

He’d teach you some discipline one way or another.

“Joel, please,” you groaned again, hands bracing the table to start fucking up and down on his shaft, before he put a stop to that fast and held you firmly in place, “Please, Joel, I need you so fucking bad, daddy, please.”

Joel tapped his ash to the side and ignored your pleas.

He felt your walls contract around him and tried not to grunt. He focused instead on the smoke overhead.

“Wanna say that nicer?” he asked, deadpan. Then, staring expectantly down at you, while you flushed and struggled to stay still, “Keep that mouth a little cleaner?”

Fuck, did he have that father-figure tone down to a T.

You laid there before him and almost forgot his cock was wedged inside you for a second. He seemed so sincere.

“I wan— want you to move, daddy, I-I-I don’t know how else to say i— FUCK!” Your pussy spasmed around him when the tip of his pubic bone grazed your clit. That squeaky clean mouth of yours was nowhere to be seen.

“Mhmm,” Joel nodded anyway, pretending to be observing your behavior as he might for a clinical trial. Like he was testing a new drug, not his dick inside your cunt, practically clenching in Morse code around him.

“Can ya try that one more time, sweet pea? For daddy?”

You could. Try, anyway. Controlling your tongue while he was buried so deep inside you seemed to be a far harder task than you could’ve ever expected, though.

Joel sensed it. Feeling a twinge of pity, he leaned over your body and dug his hips even deeper—not thrusting, but still granting some modicum of friction. The hot, heavy throb of his girth pulsed inside you like your own fucking heartbeat, and your eyes rolled back.

“Fucking shitsucking DICK BITCH CUNT! FUCK!”

Sounding every bit the uncouth novice in a COD lobby chat circa 2009, you knew you didn’t have the faintest hope of earning Joel’s strokes now. You hated yourself for it—and Joel, too, for subjecting you to such cruel and unusual punishment for just needing to fuck him hard.

You were desperate and heated. Five seconds away from yanking your sex off of his and going to town with your own fingers, you felt a palm press down on your tummy.

Damn Joel and his super-sized hands.

You could barely breathe, much less pry yourself off.

Joel was quiet and calm. Stuffing you full and puffing away at his cigarette the whole time. He smirked.

“Ain’t that difficult, honey,” he said, hardly losing his will or his sympathy when you shot a raw glance his way, “Stay still on this cock and ask daddy nicely, ‘s’all ya gotta do.”

He could tell by the look in your eyes you couldn’t stand to play nice—but needed to cum. He watched you swallow your pride, soften your eyes just a bit, and when you felt you might implode from all the feeling, whined,

“Please make me feel good, daddy, please, I need it.”

Joel breathed and eased back just an inch, lowering his hand to thumb softly at your clit. You keened.

“That’s my sweet girl.”

Still just rubbing that bundle and looking down while you came unraveled, Joel thought you perfectly sublime. He’d kill to keep you there like that, eyes rolling and skin soaking the table beneath you both in sweat and arousal. He stared down at the place your bodies were connected—a sliver of his cock visible and soaked with your juices—and he felt a wave of desire crest over his mind. Panting, quietly, he brought one hand to your hip and kept the other working furiously over your clit, trying to ignore the urge to rut inside you. It was self-discipline for him, too.

He wouldn’t let you know that yet, though.

He crushed the cigarette between his teeth and kept still.

“Ya like that, sugar? Like daddy stuffed inside this pussy, makin’ ya beg real pretty for me?” His husky Southern drawl ran like molasses off his tongue, thicker now when he was balls-deep and half-drunk off your cunt.

You watched his mouth, intrigued, and saw a long line of spit drip deliciously from those pretty, stubbled lips of his to your lower ones, making the spot more filthy and warm as your fluids mixed together. Still, Joel didn’t move a thing more than his thumb—but the sounds from you both were growing louder and more desperate.

The gentle squelch of spit, sweat, and arousal running all down your pussy, paired with those noises you made when you were feeling this good and squeezing him tight, was enough to send Joel straight over the edge. Now he didn’t have the strokes or any motion to focus on before him, just you—he flicked his cigarette away the second he sensed you were getting close yourself.

“Sweet little thing,” he cooed, still rubbing in circles, “How’s my baby feelin’?”

You clawed at the table beneath you and knocked your head back once or twice on the wood, humming a quick, ‘Good, daddy, good’ in the most hoarse and pathetic voice you’d ever used, and Joel smiled. You hadn’t cursed out loud in a minute and seemed to be taking his touches well. He’d have to give you some form of reward.

Gently, Joel pulled back and made a shallow thrust inside you. Both your body and his jolted with pleasure.

“FU—n stuff, fun stuff,” you hissed, trying hard to mask the expletive.

In truth, Joel was struggling too. Just one stroke inside you and that coil inside him was about ready to burst.

“Fun, huh?” he teased, keeping his motions down to quick pistons as he laid his palms flat on either side of your head, “Daddy make ya feel fun-ny, does he?”

“Yeah, he does, he— ah, SHIT right there, right there!”

Evidently, he’d found your G spot.

Joel stilled inside you as soon as the foul word escaped.

You whined. Loud. Almost tempted to burst into tears.

“Nononono, that doesn’t count, Joel! That doesn’t—” Your voice was shortly supplanted by a whimper when the man went back to thumbing your clit, hips rendered still once more and cock wedged deep inside your core.

“What’s it gonna take to make you behave for me, huh? Do I have to talk to your daddy again?” Joel seethed.

You shook your head quick and felt him circle your clit even harder, more punishing now. Your body craved the friction from his cock but could barely contain the words that were coming out now. You pinched your eyes shut, feeling your orgasm creeping closer and closer, and whimpered gently, desperately, ‘Fuckfuckfuuuuuck.’

Whether it came down to making terrible plays at stack cup or getting your clit torn apart by Joel’s thumb, you simply could not keep the filthy language at bay.

You weren’t going to listen, that much was clear.

Joel had no choice but to make you learn a different way.

So, prying his fingers and his cock from your cunt, he reached across for your hips instead—pulling you off of the table and pushing you down to the floor, at his feet.

He smoothed a palm over the top of your head and fisted your hair in one hand, his cock in the other, and brought his hot, swollen, slick-coated length within an inch of your face, stroking fast.

Your gaze flitted from the sight in front of you to Joel’s eyes, back and forth, stunned and in utter disbelief. As you felt your own climax crumble and recede from you at once, the sound jumped up your throat before you could stop,

“What the FUCK is your problem, Joel?!”

“There it is,” Joel just flared his nostrils as he jerked himself above you, “There’s that nasty fuckin’ mouth.”

He pulled your head even rougher and tipped your chin back to meet the scowl on his face. Pleasure had almost swallowed the man whole, yet his expression scarcely betrayed a trace of it, eyes cold and jaw clenched tight.

“If that mouth can’t be good for me, can it open real wide and show me how a dirty slut does it?”

You were beside yourself. Holding his gaze like a bomb might go off in his brain any second—something you’d be happy to see—you scowled as well. Begrudgingly, and knowing Joel wouldn’t ease off of this punishment until he’d made you pay for your language, you nodded.

“What’s’at?” Joel snapped, stroking himself even faster, “What do ya want me to do, sugar?”

You gritted your teeth and silently wished they were crushing his balls to powder between them.

“Want…you…to cum…on my face.”

“Little louder, sweet pea, can’t hear ya from up here.”

The sound of his palm working over his cock again and again, shimmery and slick with your arousal soaking it, was almost too much to bear. You watched, forlorn and silently boiling with rage as Joel stared down at you, as merciless as he’d ever been. Mocking, almost, it seemed.

“Want you to…cum on me, please.”

“One more time, darlin’,” Joel pressed, pupils blown wide with desire, “Be real sweet and say it one more time f—”

“I WANT YOU TO CUM ON MY FACE, YOU FUCKER.”

That sparked the first real smile on Joel’s lips you’d seen in a while, and then he was watching you cockily, nodding.

Before you could even think to blink, stand up, or storm off again, you felt a fat, sticky-wet glob of warmth hit your cheek. Then another. Then another. Then another. You winced and flinched back, but Joel held your head in place, in front of his cock, and gripped you firmly as he unloaded rope after rope of his cum all over your face.

By the time he was finished, your skin was glistening. Coated in the stuff and still blinking through strings of the hot, sticky mess as Joel stood over you, chest heaving fast as he pumped himself through his release.

Must be fucking nice.

When the downpour had slowed to a trickle, two thick fingers swiped at a dollop of cum on your cheek. Then, wordlessly, they moved down to your mouth.

“Open,” Joel commanded.

You’d barely parted your lips a quarter of an inch when he pushed both digits inside. Swirled them around in your mouth and made sure to cover every soft, wet contour and crevice before pulling out with a pop.

He wiped at your other spend-streaked cheek and repeated the action, plunging his fingers in and out of your mouth to make sure you cleaned him thoroughly. This was more of an act meant to tease than anything else, you knew, almost demeaning in the way he stood there and nodded his head while murmuring, ‘’Atta girl.’

You hated how much you liked that stupid show of dominance—and, even worse, how good he tasted.

Joel brushed your tongue with another fingerful and watched you bob your head in time. He hummed his approval and scanned your face for any spend left over.

There was a lot. He paused, as if considering something.

“Drop ‘em.” Joel motioned to the straps of your dress.

You did as he said and pulled both bands down at once. When your breasts spilled out of the fabric, you watched Joel lower his gaze and, fixating on the spot you’d just exposed to him, take two—no, three—careful fingers to collect the remainder of himself and spread it downward.

Joel took his cum and smeared it all over your tits.

He was equal parts meticulous, gentle, and gratuitous in doing so, and he took pleasure in every second.

With a heavy-lidded, glossy gaze trained unwaveringly on your chest, Joel rolled each nipple between forefinger and thumb and fell into a trance. Rubbed you up and down every inch he could find and groaned at the sight. Glazing your skin all over with him and savoring it.

You couldn’t deny the feeling of being marked in a way so degrading, dirty, and adoring at once had a dizzying effect on you, too. The look in his eyes, and the soft brush of his fingers, almost quelled your rage entirely.

Almost.

When Joel pulled your spaghetti straps back into place—and you, in turn, back onto your feet—you yanked away. Forcefully. While Joel straightened up, silently cursed his bad back, tucked his dick in his pants, and started to reach for your waist, you jabbed the fastest, fattest, fuck-your-whole-family middle finger in his face and took off.

“Honey—”

“Don’t.”

“But I—”

“Have some goddamn fucking nerve.”

You’d nearly made it to the staircase again, heels turning to start down the first steps, when Joel sidestepped at lightning speed and blocked off your passage. All you saw then was the front of a starch white dress shirt and a light patch of chest hair peeking out from the highest button, crowding your vision, moving in time with every manoeuvre you tried to make around him. He smelled like sweat and fresh citrus. Perhaps a hint of vengeance.

You wouldn’t meet his gaze when he grabbed your face. Tried to shrug him off when he made as if to pull you into a hug—‘Are you off your shit?! Are you?! People are right downstairs’—and Joel just smiled. Grinned like a jackass eating briars, about five times too smug for his own good, and drew you into his chest by gentle turns.

You weren’t sure why you recoiled when he kissed you.

Hell, you’d done it a dozen times before—albeit a bit more frantically, in a way to say ‘I need to fuck you’ when words just wouldn’t suffice—but this one was different. Deeper. Joel was gripping both sides of your face and still grinning as he kissed you, feeling your muscles slacken some and your frame meld gently into his.

You hated it.

“I missed you,” Joel murmured between kisses.

Hated him.

“How’s my baby been, huh?”

Oh, you know, just waiting. Hating you a little. Hoping we didn’t inadvertently create a baby ourselves, courtesy of your prehistoric condoms.

“I missed you.” Gently. Again.

You tensed in his hold when his lips trailed down to your neck. You felt a low flutter. It was like your feet had been glued to the floor and your tongue left wholly immobile; you let Joel caress, kiss, and whisper down your skin like every cell beneath his touch wasn’t seething en masse.

Your stolen climax. Broken condom. Close call with your father and Tommy. Radio silence ongoing for days.

You couldn’t wrap your head around any of it, or him, or how grossly inconsistent the man’s every move upon you now seemed to be with the way he’d acted all week.

Joel slowly descended your body.

“Like I said, honey…you fuck with my head,” he said soft against your dress, then your legs, then the space in between them.

“Makes two of us,” you grumbled back.

You braced your weight against the railing over the stairs just behind you when he slipped your panties to the floor. Then he tucked them snug into one of his back pockets and brought his face to your wet, aching core.

“Discipline doesn’t come easy, does it?” It sounded like something trapped between a question and a declarative coming out from the side of Joel’s mouth.

Fortunately for you, he didn’t try to clarify which of the two he meant, or do much else at all except eat your pussy from that point on. He kissed your thighs, gripped them tighter, then wedged his face between them while you held fast to the metal behind you. You stifled a moan when his tongue traced over the seam of your cunt.

You didn’t have to like the man to love what his mouth could do for you, you silently reminded yourself.

Love it you could—and would. Without shame.

Granted, you were still sensitive as all hell from your last almost-orgasm of the night, but Joel knew how to work his lips and tongue around it. He swiftly lapped between your folds, teased a finger at your hole, and wrapped his warm lips around your clit to suck once or twice, and you were damn near ready to spiral in seconds. You fisted the soft salt-and-pepper hair at the top of his head and rutted your hips in short, shallow motions against him.

“Good girl,” Joel crooned, welcoming each thrust with another swirl of his tongue, “That’s my sweet baby.”

“Joel.”

You traded expletives for the simple repetition of his name, not wanting the pleasure to stop. Joel hummed and sucked and held your legs around him even tighter.

You sighed, almost whined, and dug your fingertips into his scalp, feeling your climax building quick inside you.

Joel’s mouth was working faster, sucking harder, drawing smaller and crueler circles, lapping eagerly against your arousal and giving it everything he had, it seemed, to work you up to your release. He grunted when you yanked hard on his hair but didn’t stop.

In fact, the bastard just kept trying to talk you through it, fluid movements of his own tongue and lips be damned.

“Doin’ so damn good for me, sweet pea, keep goin’.” There was an apology in there somewhere, working hard to atone for the orgasm he’d denied you right before.

Four more flicks of his tongue and a gentle endeavor to pump his fingers in and out, again and again, right above that soft, spongy pad of pleasure deep inside had you teetering over the edge of a cliff.

You tore your gaze from Joel for a second, preparing for that sweet and lusty consummation, when your head turned to the side just slightly. You almost groaned.

Your own hot, flushed, and fucked-out reflection was the first thing to greet you in a sliver of a mirror on the wall. Just beneath you, as you could’ve expected, there was Joel—kneeling between your legs with his chin tipped up, beard coated in moisture and pleasure and warmth. You weren’t sure why the sight from this angle had such a strong effect, but something about the full view of your bodies in motion gave your stomach a pinch. A burn. You ogled the glass and made a sound audibly higher in pitch than a whimper as Joel suckled and tongued at your clit.

You came just like that—gripping the rails, fisting his hair, rutting your hips, and staring implacably at that mirror.

When Joel resurfaced, you were still fully transfixed.

Gawking at how fucking nice he looked between your thighs. How filthy it all was to be seated on his face and cumming for his tongue while the rest of your father’s dinner party mingled blissfully unaware downstairs.

When you saw Joel rise, you jerked your head back.

You weren’t sure why it felt like being caught, but it did.

Just as you began to murmur some half-assed apology his way, you felt hands on your hips and a rock-hard bulge at your rear as Joel spun you round in front of him.

He shoved you flush against the mirror so your tits were pressed up to the glass. He gave you a quick once-over.

Slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders and shimmied the fabric down your chest, once again.

With your breasts splayed out in front of you and your hands pressing hard on the mirror—as if letting up the slightest bit might send you straight through it—you tried to crane your neck. You felt the sticky squelch of cum and fresh spit painted over your chest, muddying up the glass with every movement you made. Your chin dug deep in your shoulder as you cocked your head to the left, eyes searching for Joel’s behind you.

You heard the clink of a belt, followed by a rustle of fabric. Then a hand slamming close beside your head on the mirror, while another worked industriously to free his cock from the confines of his trousers once more.

“Joel,” you breathed, still tender from your climax.

“Hm?”

He was gruff as he rubbed and smacked your bare ass with his cock. Let it rest on the soft, fleshy shelf between you two and teased his length over that space.

“Did someone take his little blue pill today?” you teased.

“Fuck off.” You saw a flicker of a smirk in the mirror.

No way Joel Miller was getting a full-fledged erection twice in the same ten minute span. That shit didn’t happen outside the realm of porn flicks and a woman’s wildest fantasies when it came to men Joel’s age. He knew it just as well as you but tried to feign indifference when he pressed the head of himself to your folds. He did, however, suck in a breath at the new sensation.

He could do this.

He could cockwarm you raw, tonguefuck your cunt, ravage and render you all but brainless on the surface of that mirror, and still have the wits about himself to take another breath. He could show those shit-for-brains college boys he’d been battling for days in the depths of his mind how much better he could fuck you than them.

Really, Joel was just manifesting at this point.

He hadn’t busted a nut and fucked this quick since Bill Clinton had been in office. All hat and no cattle whatsoever for this pussywhipped cowboy.

“Better hope I go easy on ya, sugar.”

“Best believe I won’t.” You would’ve winked if you weren’t so bone-crushingly aroused and fresh off your peak.

Joel had just chuckled, more than a touch nervous, and began rubbing your warmth to coat himself in it—angling his slightly apprehensive penis up to your cunt when you straightened some. Rather than keep your tits to the mirror, you chose to press your back against him, ass snug to his front and eyes roaming wildly over the reflection of your two forms. Both of you flinched when the head of his cock hitched around your entrance.

Joel’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat just over your shoulder. He pressed a kiss to your skin.

“Gotta be the sweetest thing I ever seen,” he whispered into your ear. Meeting your gaze in the mirror and lifting his hips just so before breaching your folds.

He hoped you’d take it for sweetness and not just a vicious strain of anxiety or weakness as he prepared for the first thrust. He’d need a second, a minute—maybe a goddamned hour, if he was being real honest. You were too damn pretty to be fucked by a two-pump chump.

Joel nudged his nose against your ear and tried to stall. Pausing a beat.

“Never been humped and dumped before, yaknow.”

Wait—the fuck?

That came out wrong.

You cocked a brow and tilted your hips. You didn’t seem keen on talking but had no choice but to humor him.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” you hummed.

Joel balked at his own stupidity, trying, and failing, to remove his foot from his mouth and remedy his words.

“I mean, I— I get it,” he returned, too fast for his liking, “I’m no texter myself, I just…thought, uh, maybe—”

“Miller. Spit it out.”

Your body was all but leaking arousal before him and the man was trying to divert the conversation to…phones?

Joel winced.

Felt his member deflate with embarrassment just a bit.

NO! No. No. Just…fuck. Stay hard. Please, stay hard.

He’d done it to himself. Tried to hamper sex for a second too long just to give his dick a fighting chance at survival and ended up mucking things up supremely. Per usual.

“You never texted me back.” He sounded blunt now. Rushed.

Joel watched you raise both eyebrows.

“Texted you back?” you scoffed.

“Yeah…texted, called, snipchatted, whatever.”

Your face didn’t change despite the glaring Gen X error.

“You never texted me, Joel!”

What?

Suddenly, the dick wedged between your legs and hovering over your cunt seemed to be the last thing either of you could be bothered to worry about.

“I’ve…been texting you all week. Called a few times too.”

“Like hell you have. You ghosted me and went off the grid this whole fuckin’ week—Tommy said so, too.”

Joel cringed again to hear his brother’s name brought up in this context and shook his head. You were wrong.

“512-867-5309. Been trying to talk to you all goddamn week, see how you were, and you never responded,” he said, indignation creeping into his tone against his will.

At last, your expression dropped.

From furious to frowning to just fucking annoyed. Your lips were drawn tight in a line across your face.

“My number is 512-867-5305, dipshit.”

“Huh?”

“5 at the end, not a 9.”

“…No.”

“Yeah…”

Shit.

Joel Miller had made his fair share of flubs in his life, but fucking up the phone number of his best friend’s daughter whose pussy he’d accidentally cum inside the week before seemed almost criminal. Too fucking asinine and rookie-level dense to ever recover from. He blinked.

“Thought you…hated my fuckin’ guts,” he confessed.

You threw your hands up in disbelief, frustration. Fury.

“I do— believe me, I do,” you snapped, “But not for that.”

‘That’ meaning the last time you two bumped uglies. Joel wasn’t sure whether to take heart or step back.

“What’s’at mean?” he asked.

You pushed your feet a little further apart on the floor and pressed back into Joel. He took that as a decidedly good sign and reached for your hip. Then took his cock, again, which had invariably twitched and swelled up at the smallest motion from you.

“Means we’ve got plenty of reasons to hate each other, but fuckin’ ain’t one of ‘em,” you shrugged, angling your ass in the perfect place for penetration. Joel was just about back to full-mast and buzzing as you spoke, “I can get over the whole…old dude taboo—you being dad’s friend and all—I just couldn't stand the thought of you leaving me in the lurch when shit got weird at the end.”

‘Weird’ meaning risky. Virulent. Damn near catastrophic if it ever came to be that one of Joel's swimmers had latched onto one of your eggs and knocked you up. The fear of pregnancy, and every bloodcurdling, awkward conversation to ensue, had been amplified tenfold by the thought that Joel didn't even care one way or the other and couldn't be bothered to text, call, or otherwise show that he didn't totally regret what you'd done in his car. You could handle a clean break, but leaving it on such uncertain terms had been torture. At length, you sighed.

Joel was nosing behind your ear now, a bit less tense.

A little more laid-back and warm this time around, as he, like you, had gotten to exhale a breath of relief realizing that neither of you had deliberately tried to fuck the other over, or ghost, just yet. You'd been pissed at him all night, and he'd been busy barraging a perfect stranger somewhere in Austin with strings of texts and calls all week, but the two of you were ultimately OK. For now.

“But you still hate me, huh?” Joel spoke low against your skin and felt you soften just a little.

You nodded, careful not to slacken too much.

“Mhmm.”

Now Joel was almost glad to have taken that brief, heated detour, because his dick had made a complete comeback and was aching to tease you some more. He grabbed the base of his length and slotted it slow as ever between your folds. Rolled his hips forward and pushed you both a little closer to the mirror. One of your hands flew up to steady yourself, and Joel’s hand followed. He laid his palm over the back of yours and pressed in.

“It’d be a real shame if you do,” he said, smirking as he notched the tip of his cock just within the tight ring of muscles at the groove of your cunt, “For a second there I was starting to think you might’ve liked fucking me, too.”

In the next second, Joel was easing inside you. Feeling you arch into the motion and grabbing hold wherever he could across your front, he pulled you into his chest and felt a streak of coarse pleasure lick up the full length of his spine. Your walls were squeezing him in a brand new way, a novel position, and he was starting to fear there wasn't any place he could fuck you that wouldn't send him veering for release within his first two strokes inside.

He bucked his hips a little something like an amateur, he thought, getting used to taking you like this. You were moaning, holding his fingers between your own atop the mirror as you squeezed your pussy tight around his cock, and he hoped that meant you hadn't minded the few stuttered, desperate strokes he'd delivered at first.

“I love…fucking you, Joel,” you seethed at last.

Then, wordless as it was pointed, finding his gaze in your reflection, ‘I still hate you, Miller. There’s a difference.’

He slammed into your ass and quickly got the sense that you liked it this fast—loving, lusting, or despising him otherwise. Almost needed it a bit frantic and rapid-fire when he was fucking you from the back, he reckoned.

Joel looked you in the eye from his view behind you in the mirror and saw it clear as day. He almost grinned.

You were wildly fucked out and in need of quick release.

For once in his life, he could oblige you on that, easy.

He slid his cock in and out, rutting much quicker than he ever thought you’d want it, and he grunted. Slipped a hand between your thighs and felt you pulse around him, involuntarily, when his fingers found your clit. He could tell by that grip, and those febrile little whimpers, that you were loving this just as much as him and probably were as close, if not closer, to a new, shuddering climax.

Joel plunged deep inside your cunt and drew you closer.

Taking your throat in one hand, he nudged your body into the glass and smirked, drunk with the feel of you.

“Ya like it when I fill this pussy, huh? Love feeling me deep inside this needy little hole?” he murmured, slow and taking care to draw out the syllables in each word.

You nodded that you did. Rocked your hips back to meet his thrusts and moaned.

“I love it, daddy,” you managed weakly, “Love it so much.”

The fingers at your clit increased in speed, and Joel rutted into you even harder, relishing the soft squelch between your bodies as he moved. Then he reached for a fistful of your hair and, instead of pulling back like he might normally have done, he pushed in. He pressed your face in the mirror, turned to the side, and pistoned his hips even faster. Felt your moans spill out across the glass and mix with his own, and he couldn’t help but let a raw, primal impulse take over his thrusts—and tongue.

“You make the prettiest fuckin’ noises, y’know that?” Joel breathed, hunched over and close to your ear.

Before you could so much as acknowledge his praises, bob your head, or moan in response, he shifted the hand in your hair again. This time turning your face toward the mirror, he brought your lips within inches of the glass and made you watch him fuck you, again and again.

You trailed your gaze over your full reflection and almost whined out loud, ripe with desire and ready to cum just seeing how good he looked as he took you from behind.

With his brow furrowed, pupils blown, hair a fucking mess, lips parting slightly with the strain of every grunt and moan, and hips rolling repeatedly, furiously into your own, Joel looked about as handsome as you thought you’d ever seen him. You felt the soft nudge of his tummy behind you, the tightened grip on your hip and in your hair, and within seconds, you were nearly there.

“My pretty. fuckin’. girl—” Joel managed through gritted teeth, each word punctuated with a thrust, “—and her pretty. fuckin’. moans.” Then, bringing his beaming, sweaty expression right next to yours in the mirror, “Ready to cum for me, pretty girl?”

You curled your toes into the floor and nodded, slotting your fingers through his own when he planted a hand above you again,

“So— so close, daddy.”

Joel squeezed your fingers back. Kept your faces damn near side-by-side in the mirror and relished the marked change in your features when he grazed that spot inside. You let out the filthiest, fuckdrunk moan and didn’t need another stroke—you came around his cock with a tight, pulsing spasm, seizing his hand, rocking your hips back into his hard as the pleasure washed over your body.

Joel’s cock absorbed every last delicate throb, hot and heavy enough to send the man spiraling himself. He braced his front tight against your body and kept fucking you through your release, groaning a vicious, desperate bout when he felt that deep-seated urge to spill his seed.

Fuck. He’d have to pull out. Now.

Just as his own climax was close at hand—close as he could ever, or should ever feel it while still inside you—Joel reached down for your hip to pull out and cum all over your ass, but he was brought to a stop. Swiftly.

To his surprise, it was you pulling off of him—sliding off his cock and dropping to your knees as if to take him in your mouth.

Thank fuck.

Joel grabbed his dick as quick as he possibly could and moved to start stroking himself over your face, when your hand closed around his own. Stopping him. Again.

You grinned.

Feeling the slightest twinge of retributive pleasure at seeing him like this, just like he’d had you, your smile stretched even bigger. Joel could’ve wept at the sight.

You brought your lips to his cock and grazed it, barely.

“Wanna try something fun?”

He knew better than to let a moan slip at a time like this.

Not when he was sitting at the dinner table; not when he was surrounded by the people he knew and loved the most. Not when he was celebrating his best friend’s fifty-first birthday, and certainly not when that man’s daughter was currently perched between his thighs, out of sight from every eye at the party but his.

Joel lifted the tablecloth. He almost came on the spot.

This was your idea of ‘fun.’

Payback by any other name would’ve smelled as sweet.

Seeing your mouth open wide and your lips curled tight around his hot, throbbing member, Joel couldn’t help but ache for reprieve, or else a split-second lapse of judgment—one where he forgot all sense of decorum and simply went to town on that pretty little face of yours. But, as it was, the rest of the party was totally oblivious to your absence, and he didn’t want to draw attention to it, or him, by roughfucking your mouth.

That would come later.

No, now he would let you glide your mouth gently over his shaft, leaving trails of thick spit and hints of a shiny pink lip gloss in its wake. He’d let you bob your head softly—self-assured in a pace you got to set—and he wouldn’t lay a finger on your face or let a thrust of his get in the way, because this was all about you giving him the pleasure. Maybe making him squirm just a little, too.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t steal a glimpse every now and then and pin you with an expectant look when he wanted something done his way. The room was dimly lit and everyone in it drunk; Joel would gladly take the risk.

‘You can go deeper than that, sweet pea.’

‘Nope, three-fourths ain’t enough, I need your mouth around me whole.’

‘You did wanna make daddy feel good, didn’t ya, sugar?’

He didn’t have to speak a word of it out loud for you to know what he meant. What he needed. You loosened your jaw and stretched your lips even wider, whining just a little when the head of his cock grazed your tonsils.

“Fuck that feels nice,” Joel said aloud.

You froze.

Then, without missing a beat, you heard him continue just as comfortably, speaking to the people around him,

“Y’all feel that breeze comin’ in?”

Sick fuck. You continued to suck him anyway.

One hand braced tight against Joel’s leg and the other moved shamelessly between your own, and you tried not to moan, but the sound escaped anyway. No one heard it, but Joel felt it reverberate down his shaft, and he gripped his glass of Merlot like a vice. Your dad shot him a curious look from across the table but said nothing.

“Can’t get enough’a her, huh?” Tommy grinned beside him.

“What?” Joel faltered. Set his drink aside carefully.

Down below, you dragged your mouth just far enough to take his tip between your lips and suckle. Joel grunted.

“The wine,” Tommy said, still smiling, “You must love it.”

Joel let out another strangled breath that he tried to pass off as a chuckle and nodded.

“Got me on my fuckin’ knees,” he admitted.

And that was the truth. Starved for air and blinking through tears as you knelt down to blow him, it was still you with the chokehold on Joel, and both of you knew it.

Try as you might to convince yourselves otherwise, the man was enrapt. Too spellbound to turn down your offer of sucking him dry under the dinner table just minutes after he’d almost cum all over your face, Joel was in it, and he was in it deep. It was just that small matter of you being his best friend’s daughter that made him loath to admit it. At any rate, he had your tongue licking strips up his cock and felt a sudden, sharp clench in his stomach.

He knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Neither would you.

Joel couldn’t see it then, but you’d practically soaked your own hand from how hard you’d been rubbing your clit—ignoring his orders not to touch yourself there—so turned on from just sucking his dick and needing to feel relief while you selflessly, secretly pleased him beneath the table. While Joel reached for another draught of wine, you brought one hand to his balls and kept the other at your cunt, triple-tasking like the efficient little slut he needed you to be: sucking, cupping, and rubbing all at once to get the two of you off in one minute or less.

You guided him down to the furthest place in your throat, then pushed him even deeper. You gagged just slightly and felt a hand reach down for your cheek. A thumb began to rub at the tears welled up at the corners of your eyes.

‘Sweet thing hasn’t felt a man this deep before, huh? Wanna swallow some more?’

You nodded that you did. Couldn’t actually hear him now, or see much else besides the soft tufts of hair on his belly, but you could feel a light, heady warmth seep into your brain.

You rutted your hips and just hoped no one dropped a fork nearby. Bucked desperately into your hand and felt the heat start to swell to a whole new feeling, and suddenly you were whimpering, whining on Joel’s cock from under the shade of the table and cumming all over your fingers.

Joel returned a quick smile from your father and cracked a joke about the Super Bowl. Raised his hips just the slightest bit and wiped one of your tear-soaked cheeks.

‘Almost there, hon, keep that throat open for daddy.’

All you could do was cry and try your best. Wild feelings from both the slow, deep facefuck he was giving you and the flurry of euphoric aftershocks coursing all throughout your body made it almost impossible to bear, but you obeyed your sweet and strong and steady-handed Joel and sensed a blossoming desire crop up for something else.

You wanted to taste him as he blew his load in your mouth, flooded your tongue with his spend, and painted every inch of your insides with that hot, sticky stuff.

You needed him whole.

Your Joel.

In tune with your thoughts—or perhaps just overcome with a need to see you before he reached his peak—Joel raised the tablecloth the slightest bit when Tommy wasn’t looking. His gaze locked on yours, and his tongue darted quick between his lips. He cocked a brow. Brushed his thumb again and looked down as if to say,

‘Ya want this, darlin’? Want all of me?’

You gave a soft nod, and that was all he needed.

No sooner had you given him the green light than his cum went pulsing out in ropes, coating your throat and eventually your whole mouth as you held still and took it all.

There was so much more than you thought. So much of Joel that had been waiting to give your mouth a proper fucking glaze that once he’d started he just couldn’t stop. Above the table, your dad shot a pointed look in his direction—‘You good, man?’—and it took every ounce of strength in Joel’s body to grit his teeth tight and nod.

He’d filled so much of your mouth it was spilling out.

You tried to hold steady, keep your movements extra slow. You’d heard your dad’s voice and just knew there’d be a lot more on the line than Joel’s dribbling seed if either one of you fucked up now. Your breath caught in your chest, and you felt too afraid to even swallow.

“I just…came,” Joel started, and your head almost cracked on the wood surface from how abruptly you flinched back,

“—to the realization—”

“—that you…are so…motherfuckin’ old, my friend.”

Your father’s laugh was the first you heard, followed by Tommy, his friends, and a dozen other party guests.

The next thing you felt, to your complete and utter shock, was Joel’s cock brushing your cheek. Then your lips. Then your tongue. He slid his still-hard member through the ‘o’ your mouth had made in awe and started to move in gentle motions back and forth, like a man all but aching to get a feel for your wet, sodden walls.

A man who couldn’t risk a glimpse now, but wanted more than anything to see the mouth he’d just filled.

Your father’s words hadn’t even cooled in the air.

Joel Miller, you sneaky, freaky fuck.

As the laughter subsided, and Tommy scooted back in his chair to take leave of your table, you felt a spark ignite. Whether it was yours or Joel’s or both your perverted minds suddenly alight and insane with the same thought, you couldn’t be sure, but you could make out the sound of a tablecloth flipping back up above you.

Joel slipped his dick out of your mouth and grinned. Took a firm hold of your face under the table so his fingers were coaxing your jaw to unhinge before him.

It was the lowest, slowest, menacing sort of sound you’d ever heard from him before, but it was his all the same.

Speaking to you now, softly, “Show daddy, darlin’.”

You thought you might like to see him that way forever.

Eyes honey-soft and glazed, thumb toying at your lip. Chest heaving up and down in time to your own breaths and growing ragged as you opened your mouth to him. He was sated and somehow unfulfilled—a bottomless pit of raw prurience as he stared down and held your gaze. Hair tousled, pants unbuckled, cock resting comfortably against your cheek, the man looked wonderfully undone and half in love with your sweet face peering up at him.

You couldn’t deny you loved doing this, too.

You’d just wished he saw Tommy before Tommy saw you.

#C*MPLAY IS BACK IN A BIG WAY #IT NEVER LEFT #joel miller smearing it on YOUR FACE????? IN THIS ECONOMY???#i would never shut up #i already never shut up but especially then #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #dbf!joel

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daemour · 4 months

Text

I Can See You

Pairing: single dad! Seonghwa x babysitter! f! yn

Word Count: 10,137

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, a creepy old man in one scene, age gap (10 years but both are adults (and not just barely)), smut warnings under cut

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, single parent au, M for mature audiences

Summary: When you took a job babysitting a young toddler, you didn't expect to be so drawn to the family. And more specifically, her frustratingly hot and single dad.

Smut Warnings: masturbation, sexual fantasies, riding, slight (if you squint) corruption kink, sliGHT breeding kink, unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), breast play, overstimulation, undiscussed kinks (yn is fine with it. but discuss your fucking kinks guys *gun emoji*), slight cumplay

thank u to @pyeonghongrie and @mingsolo for beta'ing and for the title hehe <3 this is also a collab with @potatomountain who is also writing a dilf hwa, we're just on two sides of the spectrum lol...and this is so damn long

“Hello, I’m here for a babysitter interview with a Mr Park?”

“That would be me. Miss (Y/N)?”

When you answered the ad in the newspaper about babysitting, you were so ready to see an older man, around his fifties. But this man looked so young, around his late twenties although you’re sure he’s probably forty. And you’re not one to judge—nearing your mid-twenties one wouldn’t be expecting you to still babysit as a full-time job. But it pays the bills and helps you get some hands-on experience in your degree, child development.

“Ah, yes. That’s me,” your words spill out as you realise he is awaiting an answer. Mentally, you berate yourself for the immediate blunder while Mr Park’s eyes crinkle with amusement.

“Come on in and make yourself comfy on the couch. I’ll be right there. Would you like anything to drink?” Mr Park’s voice is smooth like butter and you have a hard time making sure you don’t get lost in it.

Again, you nod, actual wordy responses jumbled in your brain, walking to the couch and sitting down almost mechanically. If you were mentally present, you would have noticed the smile the older man sends your way.

He doesn’t take too long, returning with two glasses of water. “You didn’t say what you wanted to drink so I just got you water. Is that okay?”

Thankfully, you finally can respond coherently and smile, albeit a little shakily. “Yes, thank you so much.”

You take the glass with both hands, thanking him again quietly and taking a small sip before just holding it as you wait for him to be seated. You’ve felt awkward before, but this is a new extreme. Normally you pride yourself on keeping your cool in front of someone you think is hot, but Mr Park…he’s something else. You try your best to keep your eyes trained on the coffee table, only letting yourself glance at him occasionally so he doesn’t realise just how in awe you are.

“Jihee will be home from school soon, so you’ll see her soon. For now it’ll just be old me and my questions,” Mr Park starts his interview as soon as he sits on the couch across from you. “Now, I saw in your application that your major was in child development? Can I ask why that interested you?”

You blink at him for a moment, not expecting that question. Sure, bringing it up was expected, but the way he sounds like he’s interviewing you for a position in a company amuses you. “Uh…I just grew up with a lot of siblings and their kids. I’m the youngest of six, and the oldest is sixteen years older than me so I have a lot of nieces and nephews as well. Children have always been a part of my life, and my first job was babysitting so it’s something I’m very used to. Child development was just a way for me to learn even more and in a less… hands-on way. Poopy diapers are not my favourite.” You pause. “Not that I can’t change them! Or that Jihee uses them. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

You’re so sure your face is bright red right now as you stumble over your words, and you’re ready to be kicked out, but all Mr Park does instead is laugh at your embarrassment. It’s a little mean but it’s better than your worst conclusion so you’ll take it. “It’s okay,” Mr Park smiles at you. “It’s okay to ramble, it was actually quite amusing. Now, I’d just like to warn you, Jihee has trouble with working on schoolwork. While that usually isn’t an issue, she may be asking you to help her with her homework and reading and I just thought I’d give you a heads up. Would that cause any trouble?”

“It wouldn’t bother me, and I’ll try my best. I took children’s education in college as well so it’d be a good time for me to exercise that,” you laugh quietly. Your first dream was to be a governess, no matter how few jobs there are for that type of work.

Mr Park nods thoughtfully. “Glad to give you some experience in that,” he hums after careful consideration, a smile on his face. “Her struggles lie in understanding the problems and in English. If she faces any difficulty then I can always help out.”

Before either of you continues speaking, his watch beeps and he glances down. Without another word, he stands and goes to open the front door. “Uh–” Your confusion escapes you before you can stop it.

“Oh, Jihee’s almost home and I always leave the door open for her,” he explains, eyes still trained on his watch. “You’ll get to meet her, and then we can discuss more details. And just to reiterate the ad, this is going to be a job that requires a lot of hours. I, of course, will be paying you for any sort of overtime if I need to stay at the office later. Does your schedule still allow for that?”

You hold back your smile. Your schedule mostly consists of scrolling the internet for job opportunities and eating lunch with your friends. “Yes, I can do that,” you affirm. “I’ll need holidays off, but I assume that’s a given as you’ll also be with Jihee?”

A smile pulls at the corner of Mr Park’s mouth. “Very astute,” he chuckles. “Now, here she comes.”

The door swings open without another word from either of you and a little girl dressed in pink and ribbons barrels into Mr Park’s knees. He lets out a quiet grunt, stabilising himself against the door as his hand strokes at her hair. “Hello, Jihee,” he hums fondly. "How was school today?"

The young girl beams up at her father. "So fun!" she grins, her words slightly slurred in her excitement. "Today, Mrs Lee had us do shapes and my favourite colour is blue now! I have so many blue crayons."

Mr Park's eyebrow raises at the mention of crayons. "Do you have them with you?" he asks, and Jihee nods vigorously. "Can I see them?"

Another nod comes from the child and she immediately plops on the floor, pulling out her pencil case and opening it to reveal at least ten crayons, all of varying sizes. What stands out to you the most is that half of them are green. "See! All blue. But this one's my favourite." She grabs at a particularly long and skinny one, a shade of emerald green.

"Ah. Lovey, remember, your colours are a little different, right?" Mr Park talks in a gentle voice, very different from the very adult voice he used with you. "That's a green crayon."

Jihee's face drops. "Oh." Her bottom lip juts out in a pout.

Mr Park holds out his hand and Jihee drops the crayon into his palm. "You can't take the crayons from school anyway, dear. Why don't we leave these in your bag and you can give them back and apologise to Mrs Lee tomorrow?"

Jihee's pout grows bigger but she nods. "Okay, daddy," she agrees and Mr Park nods proudly.

"Now, do you want to meet your new friend?" You flinch as Mr Park mentions you, sitting up straighter in your chair before ultimately deciding to stand instead.

"Hi, Jihee," you do your best to speak with the same quiet tone Mr Park used. "I'm (Y/N)! It's nice to meet you."

You offer your hand for her to shake and Jihee looks at you, her thinking face almost a spitting image of her father's before she walks over and takes your hand with gusto. "Hi, Mrs (Y/N).”

"Ah, I'm not a Mrs," you correct her. "You can call me (Y/N)."

"Miss (Y/N)," Mr Park quietly interrupts and you nod, not wanting to override his parenting although being called 'miss' will catch you off-guard for the time being. "Why don't you tell her one thing about yourself and then Miss (Y/N) has to go, okay?"

Jihee's mouth twists in sadness, her hand still gripping yours. "Okay," she sighs again. "I get to talk to her more later though, right?"

Mr Park nods. "Of course. Miss (Y/N) will be spending a lot of time with you, so I'm glad you like her."

Jihee nods solemnly. "I like pretty people and you're super pretty," she tells you earnestly and your heart swells at the compliment.

“Thank you, Jihee,” you thank her genuinely, although you’re amused at the fact that she considers her appreciation for physical looks a good introduction to herself. “It was nice to meet you.”

With another decisive nod, Jihee turns and marches right off down the hall, presumably to her room. Mr Park turns to you, finally shutting his front door with a sigh. “That was Jihee. Ball of energy extraordinaire. She comes home from school at one-thirty, and will put her own things away before coming to eat a snack. She has one worksheet to do a day but with your help she’ll get it fairy quickly. I’ll email you a list of house rules.”

You nod. “That sounds perfect. What would the schedule look like? What time would I be here, and when would I expect you to come home?”

Mr Park hums, running a hand through his perfect hair. “For her school days, I’d like to have you in here maybe ten minutes before she comes. I’ll always leave her snack in the fridge and you can just pop it in the microwave and make yourself comfortable before she comes barrelling in. Then I’ll be home at five-thirty sharp whenever possible. Every other Saturday I’m in the office for eight hours and you’ll be watching Jihee for those days. If you can’t do a Saturday, just let me know so I can get someone to watch her, but generally I’d like you here from eight to five.”

You nod. All your friends have atypical work schedules so your Saturdays are empty in general, and since the weekdays are shorter hours you don’t mind. “When it comes to after-school playdates, should I expect you to be home or would you like me to take care of them?”

Mr Park’s lips tighten almost imperceptibly. “That won’t be an issue. Jihee doesn’t do playdates.” Your curiosity spikes at his short answer but his tone leaves no room for discussion so you don’t press it. “I’ll give you a key now. Tomorrow is my off-Saturday but if you can come in just to adjust yourself that would be great. I have some work to get done anyway so I’ll be mostly out of your hair although you can still ask me questions.”

You nod again. “Yeah, that works,” you confirm after a quick check to your phone calendar. When you look up, Mr Park is already holding out a key and you take it after a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Mr Park nods, moving to open the door when Jihee calls out with a whining tone to her voice. “Daddy, I need help!”

Mr Park sighs but it’s full of affection for his daughter. “I would walk you to your car but she calls for me,” his head dips into an apologetic bow but you shake your head.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile at him. “There’s no need for that at all.” That is one of the main reasons, but another part of you doesn’t want him to know you have no car and you take the bus to his neighbourhood and then walk the rest of the way.

A twenty-four-year-old with no car? It’s a little embarrassing, especially in the area you both live in where it’s almost required to have a car to do anything. Generally, your babysitting jobs were close enough to your home, but the salary of this job enticed you to give up walking.

As you exit, you can hear Jihee starting off her complaints about her jacket and you smile to yourself subconsciously.

You’ve been working with the Parks for almost a month now and generally, it’s a good time. You only really see Mr Park when he comes home, but by then you have one foot out the door. There are days when he looks so beaten down that you want to offer him some encouragement, but you don’t want to step out of your boundaries. So, you just keep your head down and leave.

Jihee is sweet and easy-going, not hard for you to get along with. She always has some sort of fun idea for you to play along with and her schoolwork hasn’t been too terrible although you dread when she starts getting into more difficult maths.

But today, as soon as Jihee walks into the door, you suspect something is wrong. She doesn’t greet you as excitedly as she used to, just stalking straight into her bedroom and coming right now, settling herself down on the couch with a pout on her face.

“Jihee, don’t you want to eat?” you try to coax her to the dinner table, but she just shakes her head, immobile. You frown. It’s strange for the usually talkative child to be this closed off. “Did something happen at school?”

Jihee glares at the coffee table, shaking her head. “No,” she mutters but her cold-stone facade drops immediately as she suddenly bursts into tears. Your heart drops for the child crying on your couch and you immediately run to her and pull her into your arms. “Why don’t they like me?” she wails into your shirt and your heart drops.

You had suspected it when Mr Park shut down the playdate idea very quickly, but this just solidifies your thoughts. How could the kids at school not like such a sweet kid? As you’ve been working for the Parks for quite a bit now, you’ve grown to adore the young girl like she was one of your own nieces.

You don’t say anything just yet, just patting her hair and doing your best to calm her down. It takes almost an hour but now she just curls up in your arms, her hands gripping your shirt as she’s so close to falling asleep. You don’t have the heart to wake up so you resign yourself to letting her sleep on you for now.

Within ten minutes, you fall asleep as well. It’s not what you meant to do, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself. When your eyes open again, Jihee is no longer in your arms and there’s a large fluffy blanket laid on top of you. You blink yourself awake before panic sets in and you shoot up, looking around. “Jihee?” you call out and hear deep laughter behind you. When your head snaps back you see Mr Park chuckling at your face.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Miss (Y/N).”

It takes a minute for your words to register, blinking stupidly at your employer for a few moments before your face drops and you practically leap off the couch. “I’m so sorry!” you cry, bowing rapidly at a low angle. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep and it won’t happen again.”

You keep your eyes lowered and you look up at him through your lashes, scared of how he’ll react but to your surprise, Mr Park’s smile grows and he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, you looked comfortable and the doors were locked. Jihee didn’t get into any trouble, just was a little bored since you were asleep.”

You shake your head. “Regardless, I shouldn’t sleep on the job but thank you for the kindness. Jihee is very responsible for her age and it certainly reflects on your parenting.” You smile back at him.

“Well, thank you for your kind words. It means a lot to me as well,” Mr Park hums. “Would you like to join us for dinner? I know you usually leave around the time I get back but let me at least feed you before you go.”

You frown. “I’d like to, but I should get going,” you say absentmindedly. “I have to make it in time to catch the bus.”

You’re looking around, trying to gather your belongings, when you realise how silent Mr Park is. And in turn, you realise what you just said. “You take the bus?” His voice lowers and you stare at the look of concern he has on his face. “It’s practically dark by the time you leave and you’re walking to the bus stop by yourself?”

“Ah– it’s okay! It’s not a far walk, just up the street.” You hurry to defend your choices, waving your hands. “I’ve gotten home safe so far, no?”

Mr Park shakes his head. “No, you can’t take chances. I’ll drive you home tonight after dinner. You must stay.”

You stare up at him with wide eyes, but his stance is unwavering. And as much as you would usually protest—being taken home by a much older man would usually ring alarms in your head—the idea of not having to wait in the cold and the dark by yourself is very appealing. And from how you’ve interacted with him before, Mr Park seems very sweet, and you trust him just a little more than you probably should.

“Well, I do thank you for your kindness,” you sigh, nodding your head in concession. “But this will be the only time.”

Mr Park chuckles, not taking you seriously. “We’ll see. Now come on. Tonight is beef stew and my younger brother will come for dinner as well.”

“Uncle Uyu is coming?” You can hear Jihee’s excited voice coming from the kitchen as well as her feet pittering on the floor as she launches herself into your lap. “Hi again, Miss (Y/N).”

“Hello again, Miss Jihee,” you tease, pressing the tip of your finger to her forehead and Jihee giggles.

“Are you staying for dinner?” You nod again and she screeches in happiness, not giving a second glance at how you wince at the sound. “I can’t wait! I have to make you pretty! Come with me.”

With as much seriousness as she can muster in her body, she pulls you by the hand into her room as Mr Park watches the two of you with a soft smile and follows the two of you into Jihee’s room. He takes a seat on the bed as Jihee fusses over your hair, styling it with her toddler's hands and putting an obscene amount of hair clips into it. But you’re whipped for the little girl and you let her do whatever she wants, ending up in two uneven pigtails and a plethora of Hello Kitty clips.

“Daddy, isn’t it pretty?” Jihee giggles, moving your head to tilt so her father can take a look at her work. “It’s better than your hair to practice!”

Mr Park, mock-affronted, holds his hand to his chest. “Betrayed by my own daughter? Alas, but I can let it slide as this may very well be your best work.”

Jihee giggles, pressing her face against your cheek when the doorbell rings. “Uncle Uyu!” As always, her focus is diverted by any new thing and she runs for the door, both you and Mr Park following shortly after. As she yanks the door open, a man around Seonghwa’s age greets her just as excitedly, bending down to pick her up and spin her around.

“Jiji,” he cheers, “Already so big?” His eyes find you and you offer a small wave. “And who’s this? Seonghwa, you found a girl?”

Mr Park’s jaw drops and your eyes widen as you rush to contradict. “Oh, no, no, I’m just the babysitter. Mr Park has kindly invited me for dinner.”

Wooyoung chuckles at the look on both your faces. “Don’t worry, I just like to pull on Seonghwa’s leg. You’re a little young for him too.”

You offer a smile. “Yeah, and the forties are a little out of my age range as well,” you try to joke, but to your surprise, Wooyoung breaks out cackling, startling Jihee who starts laughing with him confusedly. Mr Park’s shocked face has somehow become even more intense.

“You think I’m how old?” Wooyoung has reigned in his laughter although a smile still pulls at his lips. “I’m only thirty-four!”

A gasp made its way out of your mouth as you start bowing rapidly again in apology. “I’m so sorry! You look your age, I just assumed you had to be older.”

Mr Park sighs, although an amused smile now graces his face. “It’s okay, I can understand it. I’ll just be giving you a hard time from now on.” He punctuates with a wink and your eyes snap down to Jihee in embarrassment.

“Let’s get on with dinner so I can go home and just melt in embarrassment, okay?” you groan and the two older men laugh. Jihee seems to agree with your sentiment, declaring her hunger grumpily and you laugh and pick her up. “See, even Jihee’s on my side. Let’s eat now.”

Mr Park hums, stepping aside. “All right, I see I’m outnumbered now. I hope you don’t mind how casual this dinner is, but I promise the food is worth it. Wooyoung’s the better cook, but he’s taught me a few tricks.”

You shrug. “Any food is good food to me. At home, I have instant ramen and fried rice so it’s a nice change.”

Out of disapproval, Mr Park shakes his head although the smile does not leave his face. “I do not miss my college diet. Please, take a seat.” He motions to the dinner table, pulling out a chair for you to seat yourself, sitting beside you as Wooyoung and Jihee join the other side of the table.

“So, tell me about yourself (Y/N),” Wooyoung hums, leaning on the table by his elbows. “You’re in college?”

You shake your head. “I graduated a year and a half ago, I’m twenty-four now, but it feels like just yesterday I was taking my finals,” you chuckle. “What was your major, Mr Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung smiled, “Please, call me Wooyoung. Mr Wooyoung just sounds weird. But to answer your question, my major was culinary, of course. Before I taught Hwa how to cook, he was hopeless. I think I was feeding him and Jihee primarily other than his sandwiches and canned soup.” He sighs, leaning back and smirking at Mr Park whose ears are red.

“Hey, Youngah, I paid you for your work. Don’t make me seem incompetent,” Mr Park snorts, leaning over to smack the back of his neck. “Wooyoung may be eight years younger than me but he certainly acts like he’s five.”

You laugh at the banter. “Me and my siblings were the same way. We’d always fight but in the end, we care for each other. It’s sweet to see you guys act the same.” You smile, taking a bite of your stew. “Thank you for letting me sit in on your family dinner.”

Mr Park shakes his head. “Of course. Can’t let you walk on your own at night, you know. I’d be happy to give you a ride home from now on.”

“Ah, no, I can’t make you do that,” you try and decline again but Seonghwa is having none of that.

“It’s not a matter of making me, I offered. I can’t let my babysitter just stand around in the dark. Let me do this for you. Jihee cares for you, she wouldn’t want to make you get hurt.”

You frown, pursing your lips. “I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you concede. “Thank you once again.”

Mr Park shakes his head, his hand moving up to ruffle your hair. “Don’t worry about it.” His hand rests atop your head a moment longer before he remembers who he is in relation to you. “Ah, sorry. Habit from Jihee.”

The heartfelt moment is cut loose by everyone amused at Mr Park’s habit. Jihee immediately takes the initiative to start rambling about stickers, engrossing everyone in the conversation, Wooyoung being particularly vocal. The dinner is finished with no other events, and you offer to help clean up, ignoring Mr Park when he tries to protest.

“Thank you for helping out,” he tries to thank you but you wave your hand dismissively.

“You fed me and are driving me home. It’s the least I could do. Shall we head out though? I don’t want you to have to leave Jihee for too long.”

Mr Park nods, grabbing his keys and jangling them as he opens the door to the garage. You do your best to not show your surprise at the sight of his fancy car. Of course, you knew he was well off, but you never imagined you’d actually be sitting in his car. He even opens the door for you, letting you slide into the passenger seat.

You hold yourself stiffly, but Mr Park looks over and just laughs at you. “Relax, I’m not going to bite you. Just let me know where to go and we’ll be set. Want a piece of gum?”

He holds out a pack of gum and you gladly take the piece, happy for the distraction. Most of the car ride is silent, except for you telling him occasionally where to go. But as he pulls up to your street, he slows to a crawl.

“You know, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around.me. Sure, I’m your employer, but I’m also a dad. I got the dad instinct, you know?” Your lips twitch at his attempt to be comforting. “Really, though. Don’t hold yourself so tight around me. I don’t mind doing this for you.”

You turn your eyes down. “Thank you. I’ll try, it’s just a little weird for me if you understand. But I do appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” As you unbuckle your seatbelt, you smile at Mr Park. “I hope you have a good night.”

As you go to your apartment building, Mr Park leans out of his car and calls after you. “You can call me Seonghwa, (Y/N). Mr Park makes me feel old.”

You laugh at his admission. “We’ll see, grandpa!” You can’t help but tease him before running into your home, leaving an amused Seonghwa outside.

These days you and Seonghwa have become a lot more friendly. He’s taken to driving you home despite your protests and during the car rides, some interesting conversations have happened. For example, you learnt that he built his company from the ground and yet is respected in many old money circles.

Okay, maybe you didn’t learn that from a conversation, and instead just searched on the internet. But what can you say? You’re curious about the man who happens to be your charge’s father and the man who happens to be very very handsome.

Maybe you have a bit of a crush on Seonghwa, but you couldn’t blame yourself. There was something about him. It is the aura he holds himself with, the kindness in his smile when he arrives home, and it helps that he is hot. Every so often, you can’t help but find yourself glancing at his pretty hands, or his well-toned arms, and you have to look away before heat spreads up to your ears.

You’re down bad, and it’s not getting any better. Every time you see Seonghwa, you want to jump him but it would be inappropriate. Not only is he your employer, but he’s also a decade older than you. There’s no way he would be interested in you, he probably sees you just as some kid.

With a sigh, you look down at your sketchbook. Today was supposed to be a fun day. Both Jihee and Seonghwa were off today, so you were spending the day with her as Seonghwa was still called into the office to put in some extra hours. But then the toddler fell sick and you were tasked with taking care of her.

At least it was a fairly easy job—Jihee slept most of the day and you were free to work on some of your more personal projects. Although your passion lies in children, you do enjoy drawing and even took a couple of classes in college. As you lay on the couch sketching, you get so lost in your mind you don’t even register the door opening and the footsteps coming towards you.

“Is that me?”

A shriek rips its way out of your throat as you do your best to whirl around and hold your drawings to your chest, but your legs get caught in the blanket and you instead fall half off the couch to the ground. Your chin props your head up on the ground but your legs are still tangled on the couch, your arms twisted into the blanket, the sketchbook an arm’s reach away.

“Hi, Mr– Seonghwa. How was work today?” you mumble half into the carpet, too embarrassed to look up. “Jihee’s taking a nap in her room.”

After a moment of silence, Seonghwa laughs, although it’s a little pained. “Uh. Do you need help up?”

You groan, pulling one of your arms out from your cocoon prison. “That would be great, thanks. Sorry.”

One of his cool hands gently takes your elbow as another comes to rest on your back. It’s at the moment you realise your shirt has ridden up. You can’t help but tense at the touch, hoping the embarrassment doesn’t show on your face. “Jihee’s taking a nap?”

You’re grateful he chose to brush over the incident. “Yeah– yeah. She’s not much better, but she’s not much worse. It’s just a simple cold, so she needs to sleep it off.” You chose to ignore the hand lingering on the small of your back, instead scooching back on your butt to distance yourself just a little bit. He’s your employer, there’s no way you can give in to your feelings.

But the couch seems to be against your plans, as when you try to pull the blankets off your feet you tumble into Seonghwa’s legs, knocking him down as you land on his firm chest. Your face is mere centimetres away from his and you freeze. “I–” you stammer out, Seonghwa equally as awkward.

“Sorry–” He tries to sit up, but it just results in the blankets twisting tighter and pulling you two even closer together. You swear if you could hold your breath, you could feel and hear his heart beating. “Ah, shit.”

You can’t help but laugh a little at his profanity, not something you’ve ever expected to hear from him. “Welcome back, Seonghwa.”

Seognhwa’s eyes widen, his blush deepens, and his head snaps away from you. Your brows furrow at the change in his features and you can’t help but wonder if it’s from the proximity, or if it’s the proximity to you specifically. “Ah. Let’s get out of this, shall we?” he coughs. He carefully detangles himself from the pile and holds out a hand to you.

You grasp it, noting his firm grip and letting him pull you up. “Thanks.”

“I’ll drive you back to your apartment first since Jihee’s asleep right now. It won’t take long.” While Seonghwa’s voice remains warm, his eyes move away from you.

Suddenly a guilty feeling pools in your stomach and you turn away as well, bending to pick up your sketchbook silently. “Of course.” The disappointment fills your head as you internally admonish yourself for even trying to entertain your fantasies of the older man.

But, to your surprise, a warm hand pats you on your shoulder. “You are good at art, (Y/N). You should continue to pursue and practice it, even as just a hobby.” His words make you look up into his eyes and you see a sparkle behind them. “You’re a talented person, and you should take advantage of it.”

“Thank you, Seonghwa,” you smile at him again. “Once again, I appreciate the kindness you offer me.”

Seonghwa chuckles, spinning the car keys as you’ve quickly found out is his habit. “(Y/N), thank you for putting up with such an old man who can offer you nothing but kindness.”

You snort. “You’re not even that old, you geezer.” In retaliation, Seonghwa leans over and pokes you in the forehead.

“Oh, hush and let me take you home.”

It’s been almost six months since that day and your feelings have only intensified. But this time, you swear perhaps he may be returning your feelings too. Sometimes you catch him looking at you with a gentle smile, and his hand on your shoulder lingers a little longer than you think. But then he talks to an employee on the phone and you remember how accomplished he is. Even if he wasn’t much older than you, there’s no way you would fit into his lifestyle.

And, like any self-respecting person would do, you start to avoid him. What else are you going to do? Tell him? You’d be crazy to even entertain the thought. There’s no way he would even take you seriously.

These days you’ve just been going to work, and heading straight home. Seonghwa barely has time to catch you, and you’ve been plotting with Jihee to keep him away. She doesn’t quite understand why, but it’s fun to her so she’s happy to. You’re pretty sure half your wallet has gone to sticker sheets. But no matter how many stickers you’ve bought, it doesn’t help Seonghwa from figuring out something is amiss.

It’s your one day off and you’re spending it at home, lounging around and just watching movies while you sulk about your tangled feelings. Watching all these romantic movies doesn’t help at all and you groan. There’s no way you’re going to act like a lonely teenager, you declare to yourself. You’ll go to a club! Maybe meet someone closer to your age and you won’t feel like a wet sock anymore.

That’s it, you’ve convinced yourself. You’ll give yourself a night out. Suddenly inspired, you throw off the blankets covering you and start donning your nicest clothes. There’s a club you used to frequent in your college days, and you haven’t been back since you got the new job. It’d be nice to let loose again.

As the nighttime approaches, you’re almost all ready to go. You have your outfit and your makeup, and all you need is your shoes. Once you pick out your favourite pair of heels (comfy and not too high), you make your way down. You can feel the excitement pounding out of your chest and you can’t wait to get the night started.

As you enter the club, your body immediately relaxes as you take in the atmosphere. It’s been so long, you’re just excited to have fun. Get drunk, find a nice guy, and forget your problems. You down drink after drink, hyping yourself up, but as late night comes, nothing happens. With a sigh, you plunk down your last drink, feeling the buzz of the alcohol burn in your veins.

Nothing will happen tonight, and you just have to come to terms with it. You place down a couple of bills to pay off your tab, tip, and stumble out of the bar. You’re plastered. You can hardly walk in a straight line and you lean against the cool brick for a minute, letting the sensation sober you up a bit as you do your best to call up a taxi.

But before you can do so, a hand creeps onto your bare waist and your head snaps up to see a man, no younger than fifty, leering at you. “Uh, hi?” you slur out, your hands fiddling with your phone as you try and discreetly move to the phone app. You may be plastered, but you’re not a fool and you know what could happen in this situation.

Unfortunately, the old man seems to know what you’re trying and he grabs one of your wrists. “Now, pretty lady, take a break there. Why don’t you come hang out with me for a bit?” His words are greasy and slimy, and you almost gag at the idea of what he’s insinuating. At least Seonghwa isn’t triple your age…and he’s hot.

“Ah, no thanks,” you manage to push past him, pressing your most recent contact and holding the phone to your ear. “I’m a little uh…” You’re cut off when whoever you call starts speaking.

“(Y/N)? Why are you calling me? It’s nine.” Seonghwa’s voice crackles through the receiver. “Are you okay?”

“Ah, shit,” you groan, stumbling to your side and colliding with the wall. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you. I’m just out and–��

Once again, the old man approaches you and pulls you back by the waist. “Come on, pretty. Get off the phone and pay attention to me.”

You shake your head and pull away again, moving even more down the street. “No, no, I’m not– just leave me alone. I want to go home,” you say, shaking your head, still holding the phone to your face. “Just…I wanna go home.”

“(Y/N), are you okay? Where are you?” You can hear the worry in Seonghwa’s voice rise and a faint jingling of keys. “I’m going to get you. Wooyoung’s here so he can watch Jihee. Talk to me, (Y/N).”

“I’m at the club Desire. Or near it. I don’t know.” Your head is muddled and no matter where you look, the street signs are blurring and the old man is still trying to get your attention. “I just want to go home,” you repeat, tears springing to your eyes. “I thought I told you to leave me alone!”

The old man growls at your tone, grabbing at you again. “Don’t be stupid, child. You can come home with me and I’ll teach you how to be proper for a man like you.” His breath reeks of alcohol and bad breath and you instinctively slap him across the face. Surprised, he jerks back, and you take a couple of shaky steps back again.

“Leave me be! I don’t want you near me.”

The old man’s eyes narrow at you and he takes one menacing step forward, his hand raising to strike you but you bring up your arms to block the slap, whimpering in pain when the hit lands and your phone clatters out of your hand. “You insolent child!” Your eyes squeeze shut and you hope Seonghwa gets there soon.

Seonghwa has never driven so fast in his life. He’s racing through the lights and he counts his lucky stars that they’re all green and that the police aren’t around right now. He can hear arguing coming from his phone and he’s calm enough knowing you’re at least still on the phone. But then he hears a noise and what he assumes to be your phone falling on the ground. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself. “Please, please be okay, (Y/N).”

Stepping on the gas, he roars around the corner to the club you mentioned, praying you’re still there. As he gets out, he’s looking around but can’t seem to find you. “(Y/N)?” he calls out. “Where are you?”

He races down the street to find you pinned against the wall, your hands attempting to push an old geezer away and he sees red. He marches right up, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from your shaking figure. “Fuck off,” he growls in his face, delighting in the fear that moves across his face. “Don’t let me catch you near this place again. Now fuck off!”

He practically throws the old man to his knees before turning and cupping your face. “Seonghwa,” you practically sob. He can still see the drunken haze in your eyes but it’s almost completely cleared up now and his brow furrows even more.

“Come on, I’m taking you home.” He pulls you along and you do your best to keep up with him in your inebriated state. “I can’t believe you would do this! Have you no sense of security? Why didn’t you get anyone to come with you? Why would you call a taxi outside of the establishment?”

He still opens the car door for you and you slide immediately in, eyes staring wide at the pristine dashboard. He slides in and puts the car in the ignition before sitting back and groaning in frustration. “I hope you’re ready to talk as soon as we get inside,” he gripes. “I still am so shocked, (Y/N). You act so mature about Jihee, but what happened then? You could’ve been hurt…no, you were hurt!”

He continues his rant driving up to your street, ushering you into the elevator and into your place. “Do you know how my heart dropped when I saw you struggling? I don’t want to see you hurt. You need to take care of yourself.”

As he yells at you, his eyes rake over you to see if you’re injured any further, but something else stops him and the words die in his throat. You’re wearing a sheer shirt, your lacy bra underneath just showing off your chest. Your leather skirt has ridden up your thighs and your eyes fill with unshed tears. And something burns in his brain.

It’s been months since he hired you, and with each passing day, he finds himself more and more attracted to you. He berated himself every time these unwanted thoughts popped into his head. Sure, you’re sweet, good with kids, and are passionate about what you care about. But you’re also so young. You can do so much better than him, a single father with no prospects.

But seeing you like this, heat sparks in his gut and he leans in, his face mere inches away from yours. “When you wear things like that, it makes me want to rip them off you and do things even that creep couldn’t even imagine,” his low voice pierces through your thoughts and your mouth gapes open.

“I’m okay with that,” you whisper, hand reaching out to brush against his chest, but Seonghwa blinks as he realises what he just tried to do, and he jerks back. Your eyes flash with hurt and Seonghwa would like to hit himself for doing that to you but he can’t let you come onto him when you’re still drunk.

“I– I’m sorry,” you whisper, your hands reaching behind you to steady yourself on the wall. “I just felt so lonely. I wanted to be wanted.”

Seonghwa’s breath stutters as he stares down into your wavering eyes. “I–” He wants you so bad. But he can’t bring himself to say it. Not when you’re drunk. “Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”

He turns away and hears your disappointed sigh alongside your footsteps trudging to your bedroom. With a groan, he sits on the couch with his head in his hands. He wants to reassure you, but he can’t help but feel guilty about it. But he’s still straining in his pants and after locating your bathroom, he sits on the shower bench, leaning against the cool tile and breathing in and out. With a groan, he unzips his pants and pulls out his half-hard cock. The feeling of regret rises but he pushes it down to his gut as he spits in his hand and presses his thumb against the head of his dick.

As he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it, he can’t help but close his eyes and imagine you. You with your mouth wrapped around his cock, with your hands gripping his thighs. You seated on his throbbing member, grinding your hips against him as you lean down to kiss him. He can feel his dick jump and he wonders what it’ll feel like to fill you with his cum.

He lets out a broken moan as his grip turns tighter. His image of you would scratch your nails down his back. He can almost hear your little whines and breathy moans as your hips work over him. You’d lean in and whisper into his mouth, “Seonghwa, fuck me hard,” and—

Seonghwa sighs as he looks down at his cum-coated hand and the mix of shame and relief swirling around his brain. Maybe he should just go to sleep on the couch and hope he doesn’t dream of you. As he washes his hand and goes to lie down, he can already feel a stress headache coming on. He hopes you’ll at least fare better in the morning.

When you awaken, you have a throbbing pain in your head and you groan and roll out of bed. You’ve taken your club shirt off as well as your skirt, but your bra and underpants are still on. You’re sure your makeup is smudged too and you have no clue how you got home but all you want is some coffee and oatmeal.

You trudge to the kitchen, rubbing your eyes from sleep. There’s a blanket fallen on the floor so you toss it onto the couch and head straight into the kitchen to start your coffee maker. As you lean against the counter and yawn.

“(Y/N), are you feeling better?”

A voice calls out from behind you and you shriek, whirling around to see a sleepy Seonghwa, blanket wrapped around him and his hair a mess. You shriek again, realising how little you’re clothed and duck behind the counter, your cheeks flaming and your heart beating faster than you ever thought it could.

“What are you doing here?” you force out, your voice tight.

“Do…do you not remember last night at all?” You do remember most of what happened. He took you home, but that’s about as far as you remember. And you’re not sure you want to know the rest of it. But you’re far too embarrassed to admit, so you put your acting skills to use. You’re not sure you can handle the shame of a real conversation.

“What?” you ask, forcing your voice to pitch higher as you slowly stand back up, hands covering your chest. “I didn’t– Oh my God, I’m so sorry if I came onto you. I was drunk, I must’ve been out of my mind. Please accept my deepest apologies.”

You notice Seonghwa’s eyes trail down to your chest and then snap back up to your face as if he’s forcing himself to and he chokes out a breath. Despite the headache, your mouth twitches. Maybe you’re still a little out of it. “No, nothing like that. I fetched you from the club because you called me to save you from a creep. Then I took you home and we slept.”

You sigh. “I’m glad. I do apologise for whatever my behaviour was. It was out of line and it won’t happen again. I understand if you want to let me go–”

“No!” Seonghwa’s outburst surprises you and your eyes widen. The lack of clothes you’re wearing has been long forgotten and you move around the counter to stand in front of him. Seonghwa has the decency to look a little embarrassed at the volume of his voice. “Sorry. I just…it’s like you’re a part of our family already. I care for you just as much as I care for Jihee.”

Ah. He thinks of you like a child. Your suspicions were right. You turn slightly to face away from him, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “I see. Well, I appreciate that. It’s nice to have a second family,” you chuckle, internally beating yourself up. How could you even entertain the thought of the two of you being together? “Let me change, and I’ll walk you out.”

As you return to your room, you finally let your heart sink as tears brim in your eyes. You hastily wipe them away as you rummage in the pile of clothes on your bed for something fairly appropriate to wear. First, you make a fool of yourself in front of Seonghwa, and then your crush is unfounded. You can’t seem to catch a break.

With a sigh, you pull on some shorts and a large shirt before heading back out. “Hey, (Y/N), could we talk first?” Seonghwa asks, still standing in between the kitchen and the living room as his eyes flit around nervously.

After some hesitation, you finally find your voice. “Sure? What’s up? You can sit on the couch if you want.”

Seonghwa takes a seat, hiking up his sweatpants and you move to the floor across the little coffee table. “Last night…you told me something.” Oh no. This is it. You bite your lower lip and look down, awaiting his next words. “Uh. So. You think you came onto me, right? Well. It was. Uh. It may have been me.”

You blink at him foolishly as your brain tries to wrap itself around your head. “You what?”

Seonghwa raises his hands and lowers his head ashamedly. “Let me explain, please. I saw you outside with that horrid excuse of a human and something in me snapped. I just wanted to protect you and I brought you home. But seeing you in that outfit? It just made me want you. And I told you. And you reciprocated. At least, you tried to.” He chuckles a little to himself, bringing up his hand to grip at his hair. “I told you we would talk in the morning. But one thing you said stuck with me. You wanted to be wanted. And all night I’ve been thinking about it. (Y/N), you were drunk. But you weren’t that drunk. Something you said had truth to it. Please. For my own sanity, tell me how you feel about me. Please.”

His voice cracks at the last syllable and something in your heart hurts at the sound. “Seonghwa I…I do care for you. More than I should. You’ve shown me unbendable compassion and you’ve never taken my words or myself for granted…or treated me like a child. Against my better judgment, I’ve fallen for you.” You sigh, tightening your fists. “I’ve been hating myself for the better part of six months because of it. You were so much better than me. In job, in maturity. What was I supposed to do? I went to the club to forget you, but it appears that didn’t work.”

Seonghwa stands quickly, shuffling over to kneel in front of you. “How could you think such a thing? Me better than you? Don’t make me laugh. I may be older than you, and yes, I have a better-paying job. But in the end, how could you compare? You’re amazing with Jihee. You’ve managed to teach her in ways I could hardly hope to imagine. And just because I have a higher wage doesn’t mean your job is less important. I wasn’t lying when I said it felt like you were already part of the family.”

“You told me you thought of me like Jihee,” you argue, and Seonghwa laughs, leaning forward to take your hands.

“I said I care for you as much as I care for Jihee. Not in the same way, (Y/N).” Seonghwa smiles kindly. “I know if this does happen we’ll need to put a lot of care into this, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to be with you.”

You’re not sure whether this is a dream or not, staring up at Seonghwa with wide eyes. You’d be a fool if you said no, but the worries in your head won’t seem to cease. Taking a deep breath, you push them aside and smile up at him. “I’ll have you, Seonghwa.”

As soon as the words fall out of your mouth you can see Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle as he smiles and leans in, his nose almost touching yours. “May I kiss you?” he murmurs in his deep voice, and instead of gracing him with a reply, you meet him in a soft kiss.

His large hands cup your face as he deepens the kiss, and his thumbs brush against your cheekbones. “You’re so pretty,” he hums, pressing a multitude of pecks to your lips. “Last night I was so conflicted. Seeing you like that made me almost go insane.”

An idea sparks in your brain, and a smile widens on your face. Your fingers crawl up his shoulders to rest your arms on them. “How insane?” you ask, and Seonghwa’s eyes darken.

“I’ll show you,” he grows before capturing your lips with his once again. This time his arms shift to wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer until you’re practically pressed against his body. You squeak at the sudden movement but it’s swallowed by the kiss.

He pulls you onto his lap and you can feel the growing hardness in his slacks. You wriggle your hips a little, grinding down, and the moan that Seonghwa lets out is heaven to your ears. “Fuck, (Y/N). You’re so pretty,” he repeats, burying his face in your neck and nipping at the sensitive skin.

You whine at the pain blooming into pleasure and your hands fist into his hair. Your precious sounds get to Seonghwa and he groans, moving your legs to wrap around his waist and he hoists you up and brings you over to the couch. “Your noises are so pretty, baby,” Seonghwa groans into your mouth. “Can’t wait to hear them when you’re wrapped around my cock.”

“Please–” is all you can muster out and your whines only serve to make Seonghwa’s cock harder in his pants.

With a groan, he pats your ass, motioning for you to move up. As soon as your hips lift, he grabs the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down to your knees, leaving your underwear and shirt on. In the same motion, he shoves his slacks and boxers down just far enough to let his cock spring free.

“Seonghwa–” you whine and something in Seonghwa’s stomach burns at the idea of you crying on his throbbing dick. He sits back, guiding you to sit right above his cock as he moves it to rub against your soaked underwear. Every time the angry-red tip of it brushes against your clit you let out breathy moans and it only serves to make Seonghwa impossibly harder.

“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” Seonghwa breathes, his free hand coming up to brush against your face. A smile blooms on your face as you bend to kiss him again.

“Then don’t.”

Something flips in Seonghwa’s brain and he lifts you, pushes your underwear to the side, and lets his cock press into you slowly. The both of you throw your head back and groan loudly at the feeling of him slowly filling you up. He’s not the biggest you’ve had but that doesn’t matter as the sting of the stretch is enough to make you drool. You can hardly speak as you whine nonsense into his ear and let your head drop to the crook of his neck.

“You fit around me so well,” Seonghwa praises, his head spinning at the feeling of finally fucking you the way he dreamed of. It was only yesterday he was fucking into his hand at the thought of you and here he is, only a few hours later, his painfully hard member inside of you. “Look at you, a mess for me. Bet you’ve never been with an older man before. Do I make you feel good, baby?”

You clench at his words. “Fuck, yes, the best I’ve had,” you babble, squirming at the already overwhelming feeling. “You’re so good to me.”

Seonghwa laughs delightedly at how gone you seem to be not five minutes in. “So precious, especially for me, (Y/N). Sitting on my dick so prettily.” He gives a little experimental thrust upwards and you gasp. The noises you make are so addictive, he can’t help but do it again. And again.

You’re panting, moaning as he fills you up so deliciously and your hands grip at his now-wrinkled dress shirt. His cool hands slide up your baggy shirt to shove up your bra and cup your boobs. The weight of them sitting in his hands makes him groan as he leans in to mouth at them through your shirt.

“Been dreaming about these tits since last night. Jerked off in the bathroom after seeing you, you know?” Your eyes widen at the admission and Seonghwa smirks at how embarrassed you look. “Wanted you so bad and you thought I wouldn’t like you in that way? You’re so cute, (Y/N).” He punctuates each word with one thrust after another.

The feeling of his dick pumping into you as well as Seonghwa’s teeth scraping against the soft flesh of your tits makes you so overwhelmed. It’s almost embarrassing how close you are already, and Seonghwa knows it, chucking up at you from between your chest. “Aw, baby, you’re so far gone. Am I that good?”

You cry out and sink your teeth into the junction of his shoulder and neck. You’re trying so hard to keep your noises down but Seonghwa isn’t having any of that. His hand finds its way to your hair, gently tugging on it until your head falls back, exposing the column of your neck.

As his warm breath ghosts over it, you stiffen, and when he moves up from your chest to lick a stripe up it and nip at your earlobe, you come with a groan. Your hips are shaking from the intensity of it but his thrusts don’t stop and soon you’re whining from the overstimulation.

And he still hasn’t come.

“Fuck, Seonghwa, it’s so much,” you groan, mouth hanging open. Seonghwa greedily swoops in to capture your lips once more, licking into your mouth as his thrusts become more and more erratic.

His dick twitches and he groans. “Where do you want me? I’m clean,” Seonghwa mumbles into your mouth.

You shift your hips a little. “I’m clean too and on the pill, so it’s on you. I don’t care, I just want you, Hwa.”

Your words spark something in Seonghwa and he thrusts upwards, once, and his cum starts filling you. It’s searingly hot, settling deep in your gut and you throw your head back and moan so goddamn loud. His throbbing cock is twitching like crazy and it’s still pumping cum into you. Seonghwa’s hand slides down your body to tweak at your nipples, thumb over your flesh, and finally come to rub little circles into your clit.

You gasp and it feels like you’re touching heaven from the extra stimulation. “Gonna fill you up so well,” Seonghwa groans. “Do you think Jihee would like a sibling?”

Your thoughts all blur together at his sentence and you come again with a groan. Your cunt squeezes around him so deliciously and a sob breaks its way out of your throat, one that Seonghwa eagerly swallows as he kisses you again.

His thrusts start to slow down and you slowly pull off his now-softening dick and settle back down on his lap. His hands push his leaking cum back into your pulsating pussy and you sigh at the feeling.

“Well, that was quite the escalation,” Seonghwa laughs quietly as he pulls both your and his pants back up and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. His hand pats your butt and you squirm and slap his chest softly.

“You’re lucky I’m on the pill.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly and Seonghwa hums, capturing your lips in his yet again. He can’t get enough of your plush lips and you’re not complaining at all.

“I’m lucky to have you, period,” he sighs happily. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

You smile and sit up, ignoring the whines that come out of Seonghwa’s mouth at the lack of contact. “Well, I couldn’t let you be a lonely old man,” you tease and Seonghwa smacks your ass again.

“Can old man do what I just did?” You’re suddenly lying on your back with Seonghwa hovering over you, a crooked smile growing on his face. “Or do you need another demonstration?”

You smile and throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer. “I don’t know, sir, maybe you should show me once more.”

With a nip to your lips, Seonghwa leans in and your eyes crinkle at the promise of what’s to come.

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ddejavvu · 9 months

Note

okay so by now i think all the spencer enjoyers™️ have seen that picture of him in his white unbuttoned shirt covered in red lipstick kisses, but imagine leaving said kisses perchance? earlier season spencer would be like a puddle on the floor and it'd be too cute.

Spencer's job as Designated Driver is backfiring fast. It means that his head is completely clear as your mottled one decides it's time to waste your lipstick, lathing it onto your puckered lips and painting his face with it.

"Another one!" You declare, a giggle hanging off the edge of your voice as you reapply another smeary coat of the product. You reapply every time you kiss his cheeks, which means there's far more of the stuff on your lips than you need there to be.

"Okay that's- that's enough," Spencer reaches for the tube of lipstick, taking it from your hands and clutching it in his tight fist, "You don't need to apply any more. There's enough on your lips already, I- uh, I don't think that's how makeup works."

"But I want the kisses to be fresh," You insist, eyes wide and doe-like, sparkling with earnest, "Spence, I- if the kisses aren't fresh," You explain, voice thick and wobbly, "Then people won't see them, and people won't know you're my best friend! I have to," Your voice tapers down into a sullen whisper, "I have to mark my territory."

Spencer didn't know he was your best friend. He knew he was one of your friends, of course, but he'd have assumed your best was maybe Prentiss or Morgan. Certainly not him, not the man who time and time again fumbles his way through conversations with you because no matter how much time he spends prepping what he'll say, you always make him nervous. He can't say he's exactly calm now, with your bright kiss marks pressed to every inch of skin on his face, but he takes solace in the fact that you're not going to remember this come morning, so he can stutter all he wants and it won't affect his image.

"I think she's right, Reid," Hotch grins, though Spencer can tell the man's holding back the brunt of the expression's force. Spencer curses the man's composure; he handles liquor a lot better than you do. "I mean, God forbid people think you don't know her. It's not like she's sitting in your lap, or anything."

"Mhm!" You nod emphatically from your place in Spencer's lap, his sticky face held in your hands, "Exactly. So I need to kiss you more."

Spencer's not sure what he can say besides yes. He doesn't want to hurt your feelings, make you think he doesn't want to be your best friend. Because he does, perhaps a little more than you realize. But he's not sure he can take the feeling of your lips on his face any more, for fear of turning into a melted puddle of raw awkwardness on the sticky bar floor.

He swallows the saliva that's pooled around his teeth, inhaling the scent of your strawberry shampoo, "Uh- okay. One more."

"Two more." You decide, already leaning up to press not one, not two, but three kisses to his face. One on each of his cheeks, then one that you smash against the curve of his chin. You press until it hurts, intent on really stamping the mark there.

"Perfect!" You declare, and Spencer's sure his breath is shaky when he exhales, a side effect from having your lips so tantalizingly close to his own. "Now- now I'm done." You promise, "And I'm tired, Spence." You suddenly pant, "Can I lay down on you?"

You're already in his lap. Spencer's not sure if he has any reason to say no. Well, besides his uncontrollable, embarrassingly strong, undying adoration for you. But he can't tell you that, not here, not now, so he steels himself as he nods, "Sure. Go- go ahead."

You slump down onto his shoulder so fast it almost hurts, and you're lifelessly snoozing in an instant. Spencer's sure you're not actually asleep yet, but you're so easily dead weight against him that he has to lean up against the back of his chair for support.

"No pictures." He hisses to Hotch who's already taken three, "Stop it."

"Penelope's not here," Hotch goads, sending the picture off before Spencer can demand he delete it, "Someone's gotta be the gossip."

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nana-gumi · 2 months

Text

devoted f.toji

pairings: fushiguro toji x fem! reader

cw: heavy angst, arranged marriage, illness, inaccurate descriptions of heart disease (just did some research lol), megumi is 5 years old, mentions of abuse, some kissing, mentions of pregnancy, drinking, toji is giving mixed signals, suggestive themes, lots of cursing, happy ending. wc: 18k

a/n: this was a filo au that i posted on tiktok, but due to problems posting on tiktok, the story wasn't finished and now here it is with an ending!! sorry for the long wait my tiktok readers 🥹 i'm sorry if the ending did not meet your expectations :') will post the angst ending soon

despite the years his past wife died, he still couldn't move on. it's up for the fate to decide if you could change him.

happy ending | alternate angst ending

being an outcast in your family is the worst. you were forced to marry someone who's like you.

toji fushiguro, an outcast in his family and both of you were forced to marry each other. you've heard rumors about him. mostly bad ones. his father's company is famous after all.

toji have a son from his deceased wife. the time you met his son, megumi, you thought the kid will hate you but it was the opposite. he welcomed you, even told you that he was happy he finally has a mother.

you and toji never really interacted with each other that much, only if needed, like family gatherings or when megumi is around. who would want to show a kid that you're not interested with each other, right? but when it's just the two of you, both were completely a stranger to each other. there were times were you wanted to start a conversation because sleeping in one bed was awkward especially when there's no conversation at all.

you did start a conversation at some point but toji's presence was intimidating enough to shut you up. as time passes by, you're getting used to his presence. he seemed to be scowling at all times but you noticed that, that's just how he is. you continued to interact with him until you and him finally got comfortable with each other, where good morning and good nights were exchanged. but then you've grown attached to the man, especially his son.

when you asked toji why his last name is fushiguro, he told you that it was his deceased wife's last name. toji still refused to bring back his last name which is supposed to be zenin. he told you that his family once forced him to use zenin again but toji simply ignored them. even though toji was an outcast, none of his family couldn't argue with him so he kept the last name fushiguro while you stick with your own last name.

being an outcast, you didn't feel any love from your family and the simple things toji showed you made you feel loved. that night he let you borrow his jacket when it started to snow unexpectedly, those times where he makes extra coffee for you, he would even let you hug him if you have nightmares and most of all, he defends you from your family.

that's what you loved, no– love about him. but you wonder, does toji feel the same? and the answer was already obvious. toji only accepted the marriage because he doesn't have a choice. they will remove him from the business his family owns and he doesn't want that because he needs money for his son, megumi. he promised his deceased wife that he'll take care of megumi after all.

and you adore toji for that. sometimes you think, will toji cherish you the same way he does with his deceased wife? even if his wife died many years ago, he still have the love he has for her, as if she's still around to feel it.

you were currently laying on the couch as you hug yourself for warmth. it wasn't an argument with toji, but you just want to be left alone for now. the words "i love you" accidentally slipped out of your mouth, and you didn't mind if toji doesn't reply and you just hoped he didn't reply to it at all.

"i love you, toji." you whispered, enough for him to hear and his eyes looked guilty as he looked away from you.

"you shouldn't." toji replied. "you'll just hurt yourself."

"i know."

"you know we're married only in papers, we already decided to be just friends." you already know that, but you couldn't just hold back anymore, and of course he would say that. toji thinks no one could replace the love his deceased wife showed and gave him. she was there at his lowest point, she comforted him, told him the words he doesn't know he deserves to hear and toji just couldn't open his heart to love someone, at least not anymore. his wife was enough, megumi addressing you as his mother is enough, even a part of toji doesn't want it.

you glanced at the ring he's caressing on his finger. it should be the ring you placed on his finger on the wedding day but instead, it was the promise ring his wife had gave him. your heart couldn't ache anymore. you're so used at the empty feeling that it doesn't hurt you anymore.

"i'm sorry.." you mumbled as you excused yourself, deciding to just sleep on the couch. there you've grown to realize that being attached with toji fushiguro was the biggest mistake you'll ever done but you'll never regret.

you woke up with a shuffling beside you. you opened your eyes and saw megumi with his small blanket on his hand as he frowned at you.

"mama, it's cold." megumi said as he hurriedly draped his blanket above you.

"it's fine, megumi." you smiled at him as megumi tucked his small body on your arms.

"mama, did papa make you cry?" megumi asked and you pinched his nose as you disagree with his question.

"no megumi, mama fell asleep here while watching." you said.

"okay, i love you mama." megumi said and it has been minutes since he said those words and you were still silent that it made megumi look up at you.

"mama, i love you." he repeated with a hushed tone.

"i―" it was as if you choked on something as you embraced the child. "i love my baby too." you muttered.

after that conversation with toji, everything feels weird as if it's reminding you of your place, that you were forced to marry toji to strengthen your family's bond with the zenin's.

"papa loves you too." megumi mumbled and you just hoped it was true.

toji's mother suddenly visited that day without a notice and toji wasn't around. his family doesn't really hate you but there's always a weird atmosphere around when you're close with them. just when his mother asked where toji was, he suddenly came back from work.

you knew he went here in rush, and the way he wrapped his arms around you as his lips came in contact with your forehead made your heart flutter. but you reminded yourself that it was only for a show. his mother smiled at the scene as toji sat beside you on the dining table.

"what brings you here, ma." toji asked in an annoyed tone.

"i just wanted to visit my grandson." you excused yourself a bit as you made your way towards the kitchen to make them something to eat and drink, and when you came back, the question you and toji were avoiding got asked by his mother.

"when do you plan on having another child?" she asked.

"no plans yet, we're to busy to have another child running around. megumi is enough."

"it's been a year since you're both married. why not give it a try?"

"ma―" you cut toji off before he could say something harsh to his mother.

"we did try it, ma, but it didn't really work so we decided to just wait for the right time." you answered, lied for toji and his mother seemed to buy it.

"ok.. but i am getting old, toji. we need to see a female granchild too." she said before excusing herself to go to her grandson who was playing. toji huffed at her mother's response as he stood up from the chair.

"i am sorry about that, toji." you said because as much as possible, you wanted to avoid answering that question too. toji sighed as he left the kitchen to get changed and when he went back to the living room, his mother was about to leave.

finally. he thought.

"just give it a try." toji's mother told you as she went inside her car.

"why'd she go here without informing me." toji muttered as megumi sat between you and him on the couch, showing the chocolate his grandmother gave him.

"i was surprised too."

"that's fine, thank you for covering up for me." he said as he stood up from the couch and took the chocolate on megumi's hand while carrying him. megumi whined in surprise as his father carried him like a sack of rice as you slowly followed behind.

"papa!" he exclaimed, kicking and punching but it was no use.

"come on, we don't want mama to get mad for eating to much sweets at night." toji said. he wasn't talking about you, you know that.

he placed megumi down beside the refrigerator as he placed the chocolate inside.

"too much sweet is not good for you." toji said as he carried megumi once again.

you just finished washing the dishes as you walked past megumi's room, and their muffled voices made you eavesdrop at their conversation, and you maybe you just didn't.

"megumi, why are you being so stubborn? you don't want mama to get mad right?"

"mama doesn't get mad at me!" megumi yelled as you smile a bit at his words.

"megumi, did you already forget your real mama, hm? she'll be sad in heaven. you want that?" toji said and his words was like a needle that was continuously poking at your chest.

"huh? but mama is here." megumi said, pointing at the door.

"look, (name) is just a replacement for your mama, but your real mama? she loves you, her love for you couldn't be replaced by someone."

"even (name)?" megumi said, and the way he addressed you by your name, you admit hurts. you took a deep breath as you felt a sharp pain in your chest. but that's fine, you're already used to it.

"yes, now go and sleep okay?"

"okay."

megumi started acting awkwardly towards you the next day, he was trying his best to avoid your gaze, maybe even you. he would stutter through his words between calling your name or 'mama'.

"bye bye, (name).." megumi looks away at you as he held toji's hand.

"bye bye." you replied as you forced a smile and megumi looked back once at the front door as they finally left the house.

"papa, i don't want to see mama sad." megumi said as toji placed his seatbelt. megumi might be a kid but he can clearly understood human emotions. when he called you by your name earlier, he saw how your smile disappeared but then you covered it up by a forced smile, and you just let him call you by your name.

"she's not sad-"

"yes she is."

"you don't understand, megumi." toji said and megumi only kept quiet because he knew arguing with his father is useless.

megumi jolted awake. he fell asleep after being in school the whole day as he searched for your presence. he had a dream, a really bad one and he found you in your and his father's room, talking to someone in your phone. megumi heard a sob coming out of you. you said something that megumi couldn't quite hear as you finally ended the call. he watched as you wiped your tears with your palms and took a deep breath. megumi silently close the door as he went back to the living room, sitting patiently as you appeared on his view.

"oh, megumi. how was your sleep?" you asked as you kneeled infront of the boy. megumi observed your eyes, they were a bit red.

"it's fine, mama." you were taken aback. he's calling you mama again. you smiled as you cupped his chubby cheeks.

"are you hungry?" you asked and he nods as you guided him on his feet. he didn't let go of your hand.

"mama, i love you. you're my one and only mama." you felt megumi's small hands squeeze your big ones, as if he's reassuring you of something.

"i love you too, my one and only baby. now let's go and prepare dinner!" megumi noticed that your mood shifted, and he was proud of himself that he was the one who brought a smile on your face.

it's unusual for you to wake up with toji's arms around you. you knew toji didn't do it on purpose, he was drunk last night and you just want to indulge the moment, even just for a minute or even seconds. you felt toji moved and you immediately stood up from the bed.

why do you feel guilty? it's not like you and toji were cheating on his wife. but that's how you felt. toji was still sleeping as you sighed, placing the blanket above him as you went out of the room.

"good morning, mama!" megumi greeted as he closed his ipad off.

"morning, 'gumi. what do you want for breakfast?"

"anything you cook!" he answered as he sat on the kitchen stool, watching you prepare the ingredients you needed.

"pancakes or rice?"

"rice!"

"okay." you laughed at his energetic response.

"mama can we buy art materials later? my teacher said we'll do arts on monday."

"sure, let's go out after we eat."

toji heard you and megumi talking as he arrived the living room. and just as he was about to enter the kitchen, your body bumped on his chest.

"oh, i was about to wake you up. breakfast is ready." you said, about to went back to the table but toji held your arm to stop you for a moment. he placed his other hand behind his head as he looks away.

"did i said something weird? last night." he asked as you look at him for a moment before you shake your head left to right. toji sighed in relief as he let go of your arm, both of you sitting on the kitchen stool. you look at toji, and he looks at you, but you couldn't meet his eyes as you smiled at megumi and place the food on his plate.

you just finished brushing your teeth as you were disturbed with a loud thud outside the bathroom.

"toji? are you there?" you called.

it was as if your soul went out of your body for a second, toji appeared infront of you. a curse slipped out of your mouth as toji's weight fell on you.

this was your first time seeing toji drunk, even your first time encountering a drunk person and you really don't know what to do so you tried your best to pull him with you in the room since he was so heavy.

once you opened the door of your room, you and toji fell on the ground. does his wife encountered this event a lot of times? if so what did she do?

toji was whispering something. you couldn't quite hear him as you placed your ear close to his mouth, the smell of alcohol getting stronger than it was and he was apologizing. you were confused as you move away from him.

"toji, i can't carry you anymore." you said, trying to wake him up as toji's eyes slightly opened.

"my wife." he whispered, you don't know if that certain beat in your heart was because he called you his wife or maybe because he mistook you of his wife.

and the next words he uttered is what you didn't expect as he suddenly placed his hand on your cheek and you were completely frozen in your spot as he continued to speak.

toji's hand finally slipped from your face as his head fell on your shoulder and you sit there, processing the words he said just a minute ago

he didn't mistook you as if wife, he indeed called you his wife and it warmed your heart.

"mama?" you were out of your thoughts when you felt megumi's hand above yours. "are you okay?" he asked as you look at him and then at toji.

"i'm fine, what was it again?" you asked, facing megumi as he smiled at you.

"papa will go with us later!" he said.

"oh? is that so?" you said as you look at toji, waiting for his answer.

he laughs at your reaction.

"looks like you don't want to?" he joked.

"it's not like that! it's always just me and megumi, since you're always busy.." you responded.

"yeah, today's a day off." you cursed internally. you have an appointment to the doctor today, you thought taking megumi with you would be fine, but toji? what reason should you tell him? you couldn't possibly say that you have a family meeting. no, you don't even have someone you can call a family, except for this two. plus toji would be updated if there's a family gathering.

maybe you'll ask the doctor to move appointments.

"are you sure? though i'm not sure when my schedule's gonna be clear again, (name)."

"it's fine choso, i can wait, just update me."

"sorry about that, i'm busy these days plus yuuji's been wanting attention too."

"is that so?" you said as you smile. "i want to meet him soon! looks like he's a good kid."

"soon, i'll bring him to the hospital with me."

"okay, see you next time then?"

"yeah. and (name), don't stress yourself too much, it's bad for the heart." you smiled at his words.

"of course, thank you. bye."

"who's choso?" startled by the voice, you immediately hid your phone behind you.

he was eavesdropping.

toji raised his eyebrow at your reaction as he opened his cabinet.

"a friend of mine."

"really? didn't know you have a friend." toji said in a voice you couldn't recognize, it was as if he's mocking you. you scoffed at him, deciding to just ignore his words.

you were about to leave the room but toji's voice stopped you.

"if you're starting to date someone, don't inform megumi about it. or he'll be sad." he said, mumbling the last sentence as you left. did toji really thought you were dating someone even if you're married already?

sure everything is one-sided, but you just don't have it in you to date someone, not when toji already has your heart, your everything. even if he doesn't know it. but you think it's better for toji to assume that choso is something in your life than choso just being an appointed doctor.

toji was too drunk when he got home and he think he just saw his deceased wife, but when he approached the person, it turned out to be you.

toji noticed that he was at the bathroom and felt your hands on his arms as you place it on your shoulder. he felt drinking that day, he wanted to forget everything or maybe when his wife appeared on his dream last night, the words he told her. he didn't want to wake up that night.

toji already forgot her face, her voice, how her hands felt on his. he already promised that they will meet again. in next life or in another universe. it doesn't matter where, as long as he could meet his wife again. but his wife told him in his dreams that he should move on, and he couldn't just do that.

toji did saw your efforts. he saw how you care for him, especially megumi. but he couldn't just stop himself from comparing you to his wife on his mind. no one could ever replace his wife. toji squinted his eyes, he saw you trying to pick him up.

"toji, i can't carry you anymore." but your words was a blur to him.

toji's hand twitched and moved on its own as he sat up from the floor.

"i'm sorry, i can't." he muttered as he placed his rough hand on your cheek, observing your eyes as he leaned his forehead on yours. "i can't love no more. i can't love you the same way. i'm sorry."

toji was the man of your dreams.

he might not know it but toji saved your life, he saved you from the hands of your greedy parents.

"i can't love you the same way, i'm sorry." the way he said those words were filled with guilt.

sometimes you put yourself on his place. if you were the one that has a past lover who died, of course it'll be hard to move on, especially when that person made you feel love and gave you the world.

toji was miserable back then, not until he met her. she fixed him. just like you and toji, you met him and he fixed you. the only difference was they loved each other. she loved him and he loved her, while you love him but he was stuck in the past.

there were times where you watch him sleep, not in a bad way, but just want to admire him where you whisper your love for him. he won't hear it of course. his dreams must be more entertaining than the words you're whispering to him.

toji's words that night made an impact to you. everything he does for you, you started viewing it as him just doing it for kindness and not for love. maybe toji just doesn't want to hurt you further because he knew how badly your family treated you back then. you were on the same page after all.

now you realized that maybe it was bound to happen, that being married with toji is enough, being a mother figure to megumi was enough. he already did enough for you, for taking you away from your hell life. you'll just pay him back by doing what you should for him and megumi.

you'll just love him silently. you'll bury your feelings deep inside your heart that only you, yourself knew. maybe wait for him to finally acknowledge you. but you knew it wouldn't happen this time around.

for now, you'll just watch him love someone who wasn't even around anymore.

toji was showing you a picture of his past wife because you asked him to see her. she looked a lot like megumi, but a female version. now you know why toji fell in love with her. even in the picture, it was already obvious that his wife was kind and a loving person. but you're kind and a loving person too, aren't you? the universe is so unfair.

"this is when she was 7 months pregnant." toji said as he pointed a specific picture. you smiled at his words as you continue to listen to him. but toji suddenly went silent all of the sudden and closed the album as he cleared his throat.

"why, did you want to see it?" he asked as he placed the album back inside his drawer.

"just curious, she looked a lot like megumi." you said as you lean your head on your knees, facing him. "how did you meet her?"

"it was an arranged marriage too." he said. "i wasn't really favored with it but i don't have a choice." toji smiled. how can a person like her make him smile like this when you can't? "she was simple, i suddenly fell in love with her." toji said with adoration in his voice as he looked at you.

you sighed as you lay flat on the bed and started stretching your arms.

"ah, i wonder if someone would love me that way too." you sighed as you turned your back on him.

"you will, but that couldn't be me." he said straightforwardly as if reminding you that you couldn't change his mind anymore and it made you curl yourself on the sheets.

"are you and that choso dating?" toji asked as you turn to face him. he was leaning his back on the headboard with a laptop on his lap.

"no? why'd you assume we're dating?"

"you've been going out a lot these days, i just thought."

"are you okay with that?" you asked.

"of course." and he didn't even hesitate which hurt you more. "i mean, maybe he's the one you're looking for?" toji said as he closed the laptop, the surroundings being engulfed with darkness, the bright moon outside being the only source of light.

but you're already here. you wanted to say those words but you already knew what he'll respond to it. toji lay flat on the bed as he placed his arms behind his head while you were still facing him.

"not gonna answer my question?"

"oh? what was it again?"

"i said maybe choso is the one you're looking for."

"toji-"

"i just want what's best for you, y/n. you know, i can't really.."

"toji, i already know that. choso is just a friend, nothing more, nothing less." you said followed by a sigh. "at least just let me be by your side." you whispered, hoping that he heard even just a bit of it.

"if you insist, but i already warned you." toji said.

"i know.." toji was just beside you, but he's far within your reach. has it always been like this? every night, you and toji always ends the day with a conversation, same question with the same answers and toji will end up with his back facing you. every night, you couldn't sleep. only whispering those three words to him hoping and praying that he'll hear it and say it back.

every i love you's that was whispered were left hanging on the air. sometimes it was tiring, thinking of the words toji said that maybe he wasn't really for you and you weren't the one for him.

"good night." you mumbled.

"good night." he replied and everything was dark.

i love you, toji.

those words you utter to yourself every single day and night, hoping that he'll say it back, maybe just once, and it might heal the void inside your heart. but not a single day he said it back.

toji felt guilty but he shouldn't be feeling this way. you were just married on papers and already agreed that being friends was enough. yet he couldn't help but watch as you curl yourself, as if seeking for a comfort he knew he couldn't give you. he apologized on his mind, he couldn't say it out loud because he knew how it would hurt you more, so he just stayed silent.

toji switched off the lights as he lay comfortably to the side with your back facing him. he doesn't know how long he's been closing his eyes but sleep just couldn't take over him.

"i love you, toji."

he froze on his spot and his body tensed as he heard you whispered those words. he then felt your fingers caress the scar on his lips.

"i'm sorry if you ever feel guilty for not returning my love for you. but always know that i understand you." you whispered and your touch disappeared on his skin as he felt your warmth get close to him. "i'll keep waiting, maybe someday.." minutes passed, toji was still waiting for you to say something but you were already silent.

he opened his one eye and the first thing he saw was your back, there were a space between you and him.

is it always this far? are you always this far from him? toji doesn't know. he tried to reach for you but he stopped himself. and then again, another apology had slipped on his mind. he couldn't say it back, not when he swore to only say those words to the person he loves.

toji finally closed his eyes as the sleepiness take over his body. he knew that the one for you, who'll cherish you, love you like how you deserve it will eventually come and toji was already certain that it wasn't him.

it was really true that first love never dies now that you've experienced it and toji was enough proof. you couldn't stop loving him the way he couldn't stop loving his past wife. how can you even wish someone to just die when they're already dead? it was weird but were you too cruel for that?

you just hope that someday, toji will look at you the way you've always been wanting and craving. you'll wait, even if your and his hair turns white or even if you only have enough time to live.

"just this once?" you whispered as toji held your cold hands as he placed it on his cheek.

toji closed his eyes as he placed your hand back on the bed, hospital bed.

"i'm really sorry.." he whispered back and it was enough for you to hear it.

a small laugh left your lips. it's so hard even to laugh now.

"that's fine, at least thank you for being here."

"i'll say it if you want."

"don't say something you don't mean, toji." you smiled at him.

"yeah, i guess so."

you sit up from the bed as you wake up. it was just dream, but it felt to real for it to be a dream.

you couldn't help but cry as you cover your mouth as you felt a hand on your back.

"what's wrong? another nightmare?" toji asked. even in your dreams, in your death bed, toji still didn't love you. even in your deathbed, toji still couldn't love you the way you wanted it. maybe it was sign that toji doesn't have to know your condition.

he doesn't need to know.

"it's nothing, let's go back to sleep?"

you went out again. toji heard you talking to someone on the phone, he guessed it was choso. he didn't mean to follow you but he still did.

toji ended up following you on a hospital and he was confused. are you sick? toji asked himself, but you always looked fine.

he anxiously tap his finger on the steering as he waited for you on his car and it took you more than 30 minutes to finally come out of the hospital again.

why does that doctor have to send you out? even placing his hand on your back.

toji watched you enter your car. he waited for you to leave before going out of his car to enter inside the hospital.

he was hesitant as he finally arrived the front desk.

he cleared his throat as he faced the lady infront.

"is there a patient named (name)?"

"(name)?" the nurse repeated as she looked down the lists but your name wasn't there. "i'm so sorry but there is no patient named y/n here."

"ah, mr. fushiguro. did (name) send you here?" toji turned around at the voice and he was met with the same doctor he saw outside the hospital. toji's eyebrow furrowed as he fully faced him. "i'm choso by the way, y/n's doctor. i guess she already told you?"

"mama?" you heard as you enter the front door.

megumi approached you as he embraced you.

"did you just woke up?" you asked as both of you went back to the living room.

"a while ago.."

"where's your papa?"

"i woke up when he left."

"he left? but he said it's his day off today." you mumbled as you recalled his words. "anyway, what do you want for breakfast, gumi?"

as toji entered the house, yours and megumi's muffled voice can be heard at the front door. it looked like you and megumi is having fun. toji finally entered the kitchen and saw you with megumi baking a cupcake.

"papa!" megumi exclaimed as he jumped down the stool to approach his father, the icing on megumi's clothes being transferred to toji's clean ones.

"welcome back, toji. where have you been?" you asked and it suddenly smelled like cigarettes.

she looks fine. toji thought, but he was trying to stare at you as if it'll reveal something.

"toji?" you called him with concern as he snapped out of his thoughts.

"just went out. who's that for?"

"mama said she wants to try baking!" megumi answered.

"is that so?" toji said as megumi hummed in response.

toji looked at you once again, but his stare was making you uncomfortable. there's something weird about the way he looks at you and it was scaring you.

"i'll rest for a bit." toji said as he left the kitchen.

"mama, did you and papa fight?" megumi asked as he approached you.

"no megumi, he's just tired." you smiled down at megumi to reassure him and he warmly returned your smile.

toji didn't left the room that day.

you lay down beside him, still minding the space with both of your backs facing each other.

you heard shuffling behind you but you paid no mind to it. and when you turned your body to the other side, you were surprised to come face to face with toji.

"hey." you started as you slightly move back to create more space. "are you not hungry? there's still left over from the kitchen.

"i'm fine." toji replied with a low voice as you nod at his words.

"good night, toji." you said as you went back to face the other side again.

you were waiting for his reply but minute passed, he was still silent so you took a deep breath and sighed while closing your eyes. but the moment you closed your eyes, you felt him move close to you. he tucked his arms below your body and then the other above you as he easily pulled you close to him.

"good night." he replied as you look up at him with shock. did he just initiate a physical touch? he's not drunk, right?

"mhm." you simply replied, still surprised. toji didn't move away after that, he stayed still and so were you.

"are you drunk?" you asked that made toji open his eyes.

"i'm not. why asking?"

"well, it's- is this okay with you?" you asked and your voice was too small that toji almost didn't catch it.

you were out of words. it was weird for toji to act this way, especially when he's not even drunk. does he need something from you?

it hurts to think that he's only being affectionate because he needs something from you. either way, you'll still do what he'll ask you because you love him.

"are you not comfortable with it?" the way you immediately stopped him when he was about to remove his arms around you was a desperate move, but you didn't want to lose this chance because it might not happen again.

"no, i like it.. it's just, we've never done this before, shouldn't you be the one who's uncomfortable with this? i mean-"

"shh, let's just stay like this." toji murmured as he pulled you a little more close to him. his warm breath fanning on your neck.

you smiled but if felt like something was missing. you felt complete but at the same time you're not. you placed your hands on top of toji's that was around you as you give it a light squeeze.

"toji." you called his name in a whispered tone as you heard him hummed in response. "i'm not her, toji."

you didn't know why you even said those words. toji was hugging you but there were possibilities of him thinking his wife on you. because why would he suddenly do this if not for that?

as those words left your mouth, the warm presence that was comforting you suddenly disappeared. you weren't even surprised when he did that, just a tiny bit of ache in your heart.

heh, i knew it. but it's fine, i still loved it. you thought to yourself as you ended up curling your own body again, seeking for the comfort that was there just a while ago.

maybe someday, toji will hug you again, but that time, you hope he'll do it as him thinking of you, not while thinking of his deceased wife.

"i'm choso by the way, (name)'s doctor. i guess she already told you?"

"hah?" toji rasped in confusion as he looked at choso. so this was choso and he's a doctor.

not bad. toji thought.

"then why are you here, mr. fushiguro? your wife left just 5 minutes ago."

"i know." toji replied.

choso raised his eyebrow at the man in front of him.

"do you perhaps need something from me?" choso couldn't help but ask because the way toji looked at him was different.

"yes, i want to talk to you."

both of them ended outside the hospital where there were no people around.

toji slammed his hand on the wall, slightly embarrassed as he watch the doctor laugh in front of him.

"what's funny." toji rasped.

"sorry, sorry-" choso replied as he pants, he never had a good laugh these days. "mr. fushiguro, are you assuming that your wife is having an affair with me?"

"i didn't mean it that way, i was just asking if you and (name) have something."

"mr. fushiguro, ms. (name) is just my patient, i'm sorry if it came off that way." choso said as he leaned his back on the wall. "plus i know my boundaries, i wouldn't go with a married woman, y'know." toji calmed his body as he leaned his back on the wall like choso did.

"she's always talking to you on the phone, that's why i assumed."

"(name) told me a lot about you."

"i'm hoping it's the good ones."

"not even once your wife badmouthed you, mister." choso replied as he offered toji a cigarette to which he declined.

"she's not sick, is she?" toji asked.

"mhm, your wife was diagnosed with arrhythmia."

"arrhythmia?" toji faced choso at his words.

"her heartbeat is irregular, mr.fushiguro. are you not taking a good care of your wife?" choso tried to joke him but he didn't expect toji to stay silent. "well, i hope she's not lying when she said she doesn't smoke and drink?"

"no, she doesn't." toji said.

"anxiety or any emotional distress can cause this. are you perhaps having a lot of fight? her condition has been like this for a long time now."

"no, we don't fight." toji said "is it harming her that much?" toji asked

"for now, it's not. but if she doesn't take a good care of herself, it may lead to a heart failure."

"how to avoid this?" choso looked at toji in disbelief. did you seriously kept it a secret to your husband?

"toji." you called him as he was about to leave the house. "i'm sorry about last night." you said.

you frowned as you heard the front door close. toji was ignoring you. you felt guilty for saying those words last night but you just couldn't hold back anymore. it was hurting you. why would you say that when toji only wanted to be close with you?

you sighed in defeat as you turn around, continuing the dishes you were doing.

you knew how toji hated it when it's about his wife, yet you still brought it up.

"toji!" you scolded.

it was yet another night where he came home drunk, you're almost starting to get used of this scenario.

"i said don't touch me!" he yelled back as you stumbled back a bit from the force of his push.

you were getting scared. not even once toji had yelled at you, this was the first time. was the words you said really did have an impact to him? now you feel more guilty than you were. you were scared that toji would start looking at you the way your family did.

only because of the stupid words you said.

"toji." you said in a more calmer tone as you guide him on his feet.

"let go." he mumbled.

"i will. let's go to the room first, okay?" you sighed in relief when toji did what you said without saying anything.

"mama.." toji's voice must've woke megumi up as he look at you with concerned eyes.

toji shrugged his shoulders to remove your hand on his shoulders as he kneeled infront of megumi.

"megumi, mama's not here anymore." toji said.

you were taken aback but megumi was more surprised than you were that he started crying.

he was pushing toji away from him as he cry.

"i hate you!" megumi yelled as he finally free himself from toji and hugged your leg.

"it's okay, 'gumi. go back to sleep." you said as you kneeled on megumi's level while he cried in your shirt.

toji stood up by himself as he entered your shared bedroom, closing the door with a force as you flinch in surprise.

"mama." megumi cried.

"it's fine now, he's just tired."

"you say that a lot of times." megumi said as he wiped his tears. "let's sleep together, mama." you look at your room door as you nod at megumi.

maybe toji needs to have his time alone for now.

you were humming a lullaby as you sing megumi to sleep.

you already sang the lullaby 3 times already and just like you, megumi couldn't sleep at all. he knew you were crying but he decided to not talk to you.

megumi pretended to be asleep as you finally stopped humming.

he heard you took a deep breath as you pulled his small body close to you.

"night night, 'gumi." he heard you whispered as he felt the dip on his bed beside him disappear.

megumi squinted his eyes and saw you walking out of his room as the door finally closed leaving him inside his now dark room.

megumi sat up from his bed as he silently followed you.

he was tiptoeing as he followed you to the kitchen.

you were sitting there, a glass of water between your hands as you stare at nothing.

you were too drained as you wiped the remaining tears your eyes could release.

megumi was lost in his thoughts and didn't hear you walking on his way, but before you could caught him, he showed himself to you.

"megumi?" you called him, slightly surprised at his presence. "what's wrong?"

"um water, mama." he said as he noticed you smile a bit before giving him a glass of water.

"all good?" you asked as megumi tucked you and himself on the blanket as he hug you. he nods in response as he sighed in content.

"mama, i will tell papa tomorrow to say sorry." he said.

"it's fine, 'gumi. he's just tired and mama understands." you said as you brushed megumi's hair with your fingers.

"okay, i love you mama."

"i love you too, now go back to sleep you have school tomorrow."

when megumi woke up the next morning, you were still sleeping beside him. he kissed your tear stained cheek as he went out to start his day.

he found his father on the kitchen counter, holding his head with his hand.

toji noticed megumi's presence as he immediately approached his son.

"where's your mama?" toji asked as he placed his hands on megumi's shoulders.

megumi noticed that his father was restless, but he deserved it for yelling at you last night.

"say sorry to mama, papa." megumi said.

"ha? where's she?"

"in my room. mama was crying because of you!" megumi yelled, he almost wanted to cry as he recalled your unreadable expression last night. "i saw mama drink so many medicine, papa." megumi muttered.

toji massaged his temples as he made his way to megumi's room with megumi following behind.

toji slowly opened the door and sighed in relief as he finally saw you.

megumi's small blanket couldn't even cover your whole body as toji approached you and gently carried you to the bed, transferring you to your shared room.

"let's not wake up mama for now." toji said as he pats megumi's head. "i'll drive you to school."

"papa." megumi called as he fixed the seatbelt of the front seat. toji hummed in response as he waited for the street lights to turn green. "do you hate mama?" megumi was hesitant at his question.

"no." toji responded plainly.

"but you always make mama cry." megumi mumbled. "you always say that she's not my mama and it's hurting her. i always see mama cry, i just stay quiet." toji ignored his son as he started driving.

toji went back home after sending megumi to school and you were still sleeping.

he sat on the bed as he tried to recall anything that has happened last night but he couldn't remember anything.

he felt you moved as he look at you. you were finally awake.

you saw him as you sit up from the bed.

"good morning." you greeted as you rubbed your eyes.

toji was waiting for you to say something about last night but you didn't and instead smiled at him as you stretched your body.

"megumi!" you exclaimed as you realized that you were supposed to send him to school.

"i already drove him to school."

"ah really? thank you." you said as you finally relaxed your body. "then, what do you want for breakfast?"

has it been always like this? toji asked himself as he watched you prepare breakfast.

is it always like this the next day when he came home every night he's drunk?

you were all smile but this was the first time toji noticed that it was forced. is it really always like this?

toji wasn't the one to get nervous but when he recalled the nights he came home drunk, he couldn't recall anything.

he must've said or did something hurtful to you that you do not wish to tell him the next morning.

megumi was always a witness to it but you always tell him to stay quiet.

"i'll go out later." you said as he snapped out of his thoughts.

"okay. want me to accompany you?" toji noticed the way you immediately declined his request and there, he exactly knew where you're headed.

toji watched you drink the hot chocolate in your mug.

"(name)." he called.

"mh?"

"i'm sorry. if i ever did something last night."

not just last night, every time he comes home drunk, toji would say something hurtful and you were even convinced that he means some of it.

the first time he came home drunk, he told you he couldn't love you the way you love him and that was fine for you. but second time he came home drunk, he said the words i love you, but it wasn't for you. he said i love you but not your name in it. the third night he came home drunk, he compared you to his wife saying that you couldn't replace the role of being megumi's mother and you know that.

megumi was there and he cried with you saying that he loves you and don't listen to what his father said to you. but then it happened again. he watch his father get mad at everything, including you, his mother who just wanted to help him get to bed. he knew his father wasn't in his right mind because he was drunk. he cried with you again that night.

megumi got used to seeing you hiding your sobs from him. he already saw you cry silently or sometimes you just sit there to stare at nothing. megumi once caught you breathing heavily on the bathroom and there was a blood on the sink. you told him that it was nothing and megumi was just a kid, of course he would believe you that it was just nothing.

but as megumi continues to grow, he's starting to think that his father hates you. he started observing the two of you and there was nothing wrong with your relationship, except when his father is drunk. don't get megumi wrong, he still loves her real mother but you were the one who raised him. he haven't seen his mother once, only in pictures.

"(name)?" you snapped out of your thoughts as you looked from your plate to toji.

"i said i'm sorry." he said.

"it's fine, you were drunk."

"so i did said something, huh." toji cursed under his breath as he heard you laugh.

"don't worry, it's not that deep."

it was. but remembering it will only hurt you more.

you've been having nightmares these days and you don't know if it's a sign for something. every dream you had was weird. there were times where toji would appear in your dreams. sometimes he hates you and sometimes, he loves you that you don't even want to wake up anymore.

you were currently sitting inside a hospital room as choso stood meters away from you.

"are you even taking a rest like i told you to?"

"yes."

"then why is your condition getting worse?" choso's words made you look at him, he was writing something on a paper.

"really?"

"really. (name), i am telling you this now, you'll suffer the consequences if you don't listen to me."

"but i do take rest."

"taking rest isn't enough, you should avoid your heart from getting tired. have you experienced panic attack these past few weeks?"

"n-no."

"you're lying."

"i'm not."

"your husband's worried, you know." you don't know why choso words made your heart clench, but you just hope his words were true.

"really?" you said as if you weren't convinced. choso looks at you and back at the paper as he sighed.

"i'll add another medicine, make sure to take it on time."

"why do we have to do these things?" you said as choso looked up from the paper to you.

"what do you mean?" choso asked as he raised his eyebrow at you.

"i mean, isn't better to just wait until it's over?" choso got silent, clearly surprised at the words you said. you noticed his reaction as you released a nervous laugh. "what am i even saying.." you said as you laughed at yourself.

"are you even hearing yourself?"

"i know what i said, choso. but don't worry, i was just joking."

"not a funny one. you just don't know it (name) but your husband's really worried."

"if you think your words would calm me, it's not working."

"huh?" you stood up from the seat before choso could say something.

"i guess we're already done here?" you said as choso nods.

"(name). take a proper rest."

you fell asleep the moment you got home and when you went downstairs, it was messy.

the television was on full volume and megumi was nowhere to be seen. toji was on the kitchen sleeping, there was a consumed bottle of liquor beside him.

"toji." you shake him to wake him up but it didn't work at first try so you did it again.

he was awake all of the sudden as he look around the kitchen. toji was drunk again as you thought of the things that happens every night he came home drunk. you hope he would just stay silent and wouldn't say anything anymore.

"let's get you to bed." you said as you helped him stand up but before you and toji reached the room, you fell on the floor as you entered the room. and the scene was so familiar to you.

"(name)." he called as you snapped out of the memory. "(nameee)." he called again.

"i'm here." you said.

"you're here?" he said as he touched your face as if he doesn't believe you. "you're really here." he said as he smiled and embraced you.

and you, you were taken aback, but you just let him.

"why did you leave me?" he said.

there he goes again.

"hey, look at me." he said as he held your cheeks with his thumb and pointer finger.

why does looking at him hurts.

"don't ever think that i don't love you, okay? i'm so grateful that you're here.." you were waiting for it. for him to call his wife's name but you didn't expect that he'll say yours. "if i started loving you, are you going to stay?" he said and you were speechless. "i'm sick of people leaving me." he mumbled as he embraced you. "i don't want you to leave. i promise, i'll love you like how you want it. i'll do it, i'll move on from her but in exchange, don't ever leave, okay? we'll heal you, you'll be fine."

what was he even talking about? it's not like your leaving or something, right?

you sighed, brushing off his words as you placed him on the bed.

"don't force yourself to love someone, toji. go to sleep, i'll look for megumi."

you were about to leave the house as you heard sobs coming from the house. and when you followed the sound, you were surprised to see megumi who tucked himself at a kitchen cabinet.

"mama!" he said as he embraced you.

"megumi, what are you doing inside the cabinet?"

"i'm hiding." he frowned as you wiped his tears.

"from who?" you said with a soft voice to calm him.

"mama.." megumi mumbled as his voice slightly cracked. "papa said you'll leave us."

"he said that?" you said as you kneeled into his level and he nods at your question. "he's lying." you said as megumi sighed in relief and embraced you once again.

"papa said you'll leave just like my real mama." megumi pulled away from the hug as he saw your surprised expression. "it's not true, right? mama."

your forced a smile as you pinched megumi's cheeks.

"of course, mama won't leave. never."

"toji, can you drive megumi to school today?" you muttered as you saw toji who was about to leave the room.

"what was that?" toji asked as he closed the door once again and approached you. you sit up from the bed and your vision started to spin.

"bring megumi to school." you said followed with a small cough.

"yeah sure." he hesitantly said.

"thanks." you mumbled as you lay back down on the bed.

"you okay?" toji asked as you felt him sit on the bed.

"i'm fine, must be a fever." you said but toji wasn't convinced and placed the back of his palm on your forehead to your neck and you were burning. toji was about to say something but he felt your cold hands on his.

"i'm fine, don't worry." you assured him with a smile as you let go of his hand and faced the other side. you were burning but your hands were too cold.

"i'll be back." toji said, immediately leaving the room as you heard the doorknob clicked.

toji was back after sending megumi to school. megumi insisted on seeing you before leaving but if he found out you're sick, toji knew megumi wouldn't want to go to school anymore. you weren't in the room when toji entered.

he started looking for you around the house and the kitchen was the last place he expected to see you. he sighed in relief when he saw you sleeping on the table with a glass of water in your right hand. toji's eybrows furrowed as he silently approached you. he can hear your soft snores as he went closer and closer.

"(name)?" he said in a whispered tone and you woke up within a second as you look around.

"oh?" was the only word you let out as you felt toji's hands on your shoulders. "i fell asleep."

"what are you doing here?" he said as you tried to stand up but you failed. you don't have the energy even to stand up.

"i got thirsty but i got tired before i even drink water." you said as you finally drink the glass of water.

"you should see a doctor." toji suggested.

"i'm finee." you said as you let toji guide you back to the room.

slowly, you sit from the bed as toji helped you to lay down. he placed a blanket above your body and went straight to the bathroom inside the room. he went back with a wet towel and a bucket of water as he started wiping your face with it.

"thank you." you whispered, even your throat was hurting. toji didn't respond as he continued on his task and after that, toji took another towel and placed it above your head.

"toji." you called as he stopped at the door he just opened.

'can you stay please?'

how badly you wanted to ask him to stay with you, but the dreams you had before started replaying in your mind. maybe you shouldn't. "it's nothing." you said as you pulled the blanket above your chin.

toji seemed to notice your distress as he silently closed the door and approached you again.

"i will be back. i'll just buy you food." he said as you covered your whole body with the blanket.

"okay." you said and you couldn't stop yourself from smiling.

do you have to be sick for toji to look out for you? maybe being sick is not that bad after all.

toji came back after five minutes, it's not that you're counting though, you were just bored.

"where did you go?" you asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"i'll just order, what do you want- i mean, you can't eat anything for now, let's just order a soup." toji looked at you as he heard you laugh at his words.

"there's no need, toji. it's not that hard to cook a soup." you said as you sit up from the bed, only for toji to push you back down on the bed as you let him place the blanket above you.

"don't be stubborn."

"toji, don't tell me you can't cook a soup." you said.

"it's not like that, okay? i just-" he paused for a moment before turning his back on you. "you seemed like you want a some company, that's why i am here." he said.

speechless, that's how you describe yourself now.

"is that so?" you said as you watch him scratch his head.

"i'll do this on my own way, okay?"

"okay. but let me, i know exactly where to order a good soup."

"this looks plain as hell." toji said as he opened the soup you ordered.

"but it's delicious, and why are you complaining?" you said as you raised your eyebrow at him. "i'm the one who's gonna eat it, not you!" you exclaimed as toji huffed in response.

toji started pouring the soup on a bowl before placing a chair beside the bed. and for a moment, you look at him and he looks at you.

"it's fine, i can do it myself." you said, trying to reach the bowl on his hand but he moved it slightly away from your reach. he hesitated for a moment before taking the spoon on his finger.

"ahh." he instructed.

"toji, this is embarrassing." you muttered as you move away from the spoon.

"how are you gonna get better if you're being stubborn?"

"just let me!!"

"tch, let me handle this." he said as you, again, tried to take the spoon from him but it was useless so you did what he said as he slowly placed the spoon with soup in your mouth.

it was quiet as toji continues to feed you, until it's the last spoon of the soup, you suddenly let out a cough as the soup dripped from the corner of your mouth and to the duvet.

"oh." you mumbled as toji reached out for the tissues. "sorry." you mumbled as you started to wipe the soup on the blanket and then the corner of your mouth. "we have to change blankets, i guess."

it was too sudden that you didn't have time to process everything when toji leaned close to you. you can feel his hot breath on your cheek as he pressed his lips on the corner of your lips, with him tasting the soup he just fed you.

you were sure you were losing your breath as he pulled away as if nothing happened.

"ah, sorry." he said as if he just didn't kiss you. he started to gather the paper bag of the soup earlier and took the blanket on your hands. "i'll get a new one." he said as he finally left the room.

why is he acting so normal when you're there sitting on the bed, trying to calm your speeding heart at the moments earlier.

you cursed under your breath as you hide your face with your palms.

why are you even embarrassed when kissing is normal to a married couple? it was normal but it was unusual for toji to act like that, you haven't even hold hands with him but a kiss? that's way more unexpected.

toji gently closed the door of the room as he leaned his weight on it.

"fuck." he muttered as he clutched the blanket on his hand.

seeing you wipe the soup on the blanket with that smile on your face urge toji to do that. he himself didn't expect it too. he cursed once again before proceeding to the task in hand.

you were startled when the door opens.

it was toji carrying a new blanket.

"i'll pick up megumi soon." he said.

"what about your work?"

"i took a day off." you hoped he did because you were sick. "you can't be left alone." he said as if he just read your mind.

"oh. thank you."

"not a problem. make sure to do the same when i got sick too." he joked, but it didn't fail to put a smile on your face.

"of course, i would love too! but i'm not saying that i want you to get sick!"

"mama!" you can hear megumi's voice from afar as he finally entered your room, throwing his lunchbox bag somewhere as he approached you.

"megumi, don't get to close." you said.

"mama! are you okay?"

"megumi, stop yelling." toji said as he entered the room, picking up megumi's lunchbox bag he threw minutes ago.

"you said mama is not sick!"

"megumi, don't yell at your papa." you said as megumi finally faced you, his face turning into a frown as he faced his father once again.

"i'm sorry, papa." he muttered.

toji was impressed that you could make megumi easily obey you. a thing he couldn't do when megumi was 3 years old.

"come on, change into your home clothes." toji said as he carried megumi like a sack of rice.

"i'll be back, mama!" he said before he and toji disappeared from your view and toji came back after a minute before closing the door with a sigh.

"come and rest." you said as you pat the empty space beside you.

toji sat beside you as the surroundings became quiet. he cleared his throat as he took the plushie megumi bought you and squeezed it.

"i'm sorry." he said.

"why?" you said, completely confused at the apology he just uttered.

"earlier. i didn't mean it."

oh.

"w-well, it's fine." you said as you conceal your stutter with a cough. "it's not like i'm complaining.."

"ha?"

"i mean- don't get the wrong idea!" you said, trying to find the right words. do you say it's okay, i liked it? or it's okay, i enjoyed it? "but.. did you regret it?" you asked, and the tension suddenly became heavy.

he was quiet and must be thinking about it.

"i did-" he paused, and that small pause sure made you nervous. "not?.." toji said in a questioning manner. you felt nervous and relieved at the same time.

"what about you?" he asked and you were more than confident at your answer.

"no. if i'm being honest, i really.. liked it." the last sentence were whispered.

"was that your first kiss?" he asked and you only hummed in response. it was true that toji was your first kiss, even if it was just a peck, his lips still touched yours.

you felt toji shift on the bed as he faced you.

"come closer." he said and you hesitated for a bit as you finally faced him and crawled a bit closer to him.

you were looking anywhere but his eyes as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. and then he's leaning close again.

"tell me to stop and i will." he mumbled, forcing you to look in his dark blue eyes.

"toji, are you sure about this?" you mumbled as you clutched your pajamas under the blanket. "don't do something you'll regret, toji."

he cuts you off by finally kissing you and it wasn't just a peck like you expected it.

he continued and deepened the kiss, until you're laying on the bed and when he finally pulled away, his hands was between your head as you clutch his clothes on his shoulders.

"toji-"

"shh.. i do not regret any of it."

"i need to confine you for 15 days, so i could monitor you properly."

"but i am resting!"

"yes you are, but it's not enough. it's better if it's being observed that you're taking a rest."

"is there another way?" you said as you clutch your phone in your hand. "i actually don't know how to tell my husband." you said as choso looked at you.

"but i already called him. he said he's on his way here."

"huh, what do you mean?" you said, completely surprised that it made you stand up from the chair. "he doesn't even know that i am sick." you said. "choso, i told you to keep it a secret right?"

"i'm sorry, he accused us of having an affair. i needed to." and then there was a knock on the door, and you knew who exactly it is. toji entered the room and you look away from him.

"take a sit, mr. fushiguro." choso said as he instructed him to sit beside you. you weren't looking at him but you can feel toji's burning gaze at you. choso left the room for a moment and being alone with toji became suffocating right now.

you suddenly felt his hand above yours. you thought he would judge or even get mad at you but you but he didn't.

"we'll talk later, okay?" he said as choso finally came back.

"15 days? if that's enough. as long as you treat my wife." toji said. he's doing all the talking while you sit there in silence and.. he really did call you his wife.

toji thanked choso after that as he held your hand and pulled you with him. you gave choso a last glance, a glance as if he just betrayed you and he was looking at you with his apologetic gaze, and there, you and toji left the hospital.

"when did you found out?" you asked.

"a few weeks ago. i followed you." toji said as the signal lights turned red and there was a faint sound of music in the background. "why didn't you tell me?" he asked and you hesitated for a moment as you sit up straight on the front seat.

"choso said it wasn't that life threatening, that's why i thought i don't have to tell anyone." you were mumbling that toji almost didn't understand your words.

"not life threatening but now you need to be confined for 15 days?" toji said and you went silent. "do you not trust me?" he suddenly asked and you immediately disagreed at his words.

"no!" you said. "sorry, i just don't want to be a burden and.. i thought you wouldn't care." you said, whispering the last sentence as you wait for his response. and he didn't respond anymore, until both of you reached the house.

"toji, i'm really sorry." you said and he finally looked at you.

"we're in this together, why would you think i wouldn't care?" he asked and you frowned.

"i'm sorry toji. i just didn't have enough courage to tell you because.. it's because of your wife."

"my wife?" he scoffed, raising his eyebrow as you nod.

"i don't know how to tell you because all you could think of is your wife!" you were frantic as you explain, trying not to say the wrong words because it might trigger him in some way as your emotions get the best of you. "i thought you wouldn't care because i'm not her." you said as you look down on the ground, trying to hold the tears that was eager to come out.

"but i do care, this is not about her. this is about you."

"you don't understand it, toji." you said.

"then i apologize if i came of that way, that you thought i wouldn't care because all i think of is my wife." toji said, emphasizing the words with sarcasm. "but you're my wife too, my wife now." he said, the sarcasm dropping on his voice.

"but i'm not the presence you've been wanting for, i know my place, toji. you reminded me a lot of times already." you said.

when did talking about your illness turned into fighting over his deceased wife?

toji sighed at your response and you took a step back when he stepped forward.

"i'm sorry, i want to be alone for now." you mumbled as you went to your shared room.

you and him were fine just last night? what happened now? it was all because of your stubbornness. it was obvious that toji was worried and cares for you but you're pushing him away.

you couldn't help it, you aren't used at him caring for you. you're mistaking his kindness into something, that maybe he's saying all of it out of pity or guilt.

that's right, now you realized why toji was weird the past few weeks. it's because he already found out and he just didn't tell you.

toji forced the door open with a key and he saw you sitting at the edge of the bed. you didn't even notice him until he sat beside you.

"i'm sorry." you said at the same time.

"sorry, i involved her again." you said as you felt toji's hand at your back.

"i didn't know you felt that way." he said.

"it's okay. i know how hard it is to move on from someone." you said as you held his free hand. "this will be the last time, toji." you said.

"what do you mean?" he asked.

"i'm not dying." you said with a laugh. "what i mean is this will be the last time i'll involve her. i finally realized it, toji. that no matter what i do, i still couldn't do anything for you to love me the way i love you." toji was about to say something but you cut him off. "but it's fine! like you said, we're married only in papers. i think i'm getting it now."

he was silent and you felt his touch disappear on your back.

"i just want to sort everything out before i stay in the hospital for 15 days." you mumbled as you sighed deeply. "sooo, friends then?" you said, the same exact words he told you before you two got married by force. but you saying it hit something in him, it made his chest ache.

he felt your hand take his and shake it, as if both of you just had an agreement. you didn't even wait for his reply as you finally sit up from the bed and started packing some clothes you'll be needing and he could only watch.

"don't worry, it'll only be 15 days. mr. fushiguro can still visit everyday but only around 10 AM to 5 PM." choso said as he glanced at your way.

"choso, did you know there was a theory that being hospitalized will only worsen your state. what if that happens to me?" you said.

"that's a lie, you're here not to worsen your state but to heal you."

"but what if? you know, everything is unexpected."

"why'd you even ask?"

"i don't know. i guess i'm ready?" you said and choso was looking at you with his judging expression. "just kidding." you said as you laugh.

"think of the people who cares for you. be strong for them because they're waiting for you to come home." choso said and megumi was the only person you could think of.

"my son." you said with a smile.

"yes, megumi's waiting for you so stop with your negative thoughts."

"ok, i will."

"mama!" your mood shifted as you heard megumi and he finally entered the room.

he was on his school uniform as he approached you, his upper body leaning on the bed as he tried to reach for you. you leaned close to him as megumi's small hands held you by your cheeks.

"mama, why are you here?" he asked as he frowned.

"mama needs to stay here for now but don't worry."

"why?"

"megumi, don't ask too many questions." toji said.

"it's fine." you said.

toji was watching you and his son interact.

megumi was still mad at him but megumi just didn't show you. toji mentally slapped himself as he recalled the happenings yesterday.

it was megumi frantically looking for you around the house.

megumi was running around the house as he call for you.

"where's mama?" he asked toji as he pants.

"she'll be staying at the hospital for now." toji said.

"why? is mama sick?" megumi said as he approached his father who's ignoring his question. "papa!"

"megumi, you won't understand. and yes mama is sick. now stop asking."

"why is mama sick!" megumi yelled, asking questions, eager to know the answers.

"she needs her heart to be healed. there, now go to your room megumi, you have school tomorrow."

"heart?" megumi muttered as he forced himself on his father's sight as toji sighed. "it's all your fault!" megumi yelled and toji ignored him. "you always make mama cry! now her heart is sad because of you! you always get mad at mama when you come home drunk!"

"what did you say?" toji said as he held megumi by his shoulders.

"i hate you! i wish it's you in the hospital not mama!" megumi said before he could even realize his words as toji let go of megumi. toji sat back on the couch and megumi ran out of the living room.

megumi cried to his sleep as he craved for your presence.

megumi was laying on top of you as you lull him to sleep.

"say sorry to your papa later, okay?" you said as megumi sniffed before nodding.

toji went to buy foods outside as megumi told you everything he said last night.

"it's not your papa's fault why i am here. remember that."

"mama get home soon, okay?"

"of course." you said as you pinch his nose. "stop crying now."

after some minutes, toji finally came back as you and megumi ate the food he bought.

megumi sat at the back seat as he hug his knees.

"i'm sorry, papa." he mumbled. "mama told me what i said is bad. i'm sorry." toji kept quiet as he drives.

he carried megumi who fell asleep at the back seat to his room, giving him a kiss on the forehead before leaving.

toji thought megumi was right, that maybe it was better that it was him in the hospital and not you. he didn't want to lose anyone anymore and toji hoped that he isn't too late.

he was blaming himself.

he already considered himself as a curse, because if he started to love someone, something bad will happen to them. worst is they disappear from his life.

is it a right choice to finally love you?

maybe not.

first week of your stay in hospital wasn't that boring as you thought it would be.

toji would visit you at the starting hours and will bring megumi from school at the last hour, though megumi always sleep on top of you since he wanted to be close to you.

toji would sit there in silence as you hum megumi a lullaby he once heard his son humming while doing his assignments.

toji knew megumi were attached to you but he didn't knew he's that attached to the point that megumi always cry every night, looking for you and will end up sleeping beside toji occupying the space you usually lay at.

"mama, i counted and it's 8." megumi said as he sat on the hospital bed beside you.

"that's right, 7 days more and mama can go home."

"but 7 days is too long." megumi said as he frowned.

"it's not if you stop focusing on it."

"okay, i will not!" you and megumi laughed at the same time and he kneeled towards you as he started wiping your under eyes with his thumb.

"mama, are you sleeping enough?" megumi asked.

"i am. it's just so boring here when i'm alone." you said as megumi embraced you.

"don't worry, mama. i will pray so you can go back home."

"thank you, 'gumi."

"mama." megumi whispered after a minute of silence as you hummed in response.

"papa is not sleeping well." megumi said as he look around as if someone was there to listen but it was just you and him since toji left when someone called him.

"why?" you asked.

"papa misses you, mama."

"he does?" you said as megumi frantically nods.

"he said it to me!" megumi exclaimed excitedly.

megumi was sitting on the kitchen stool as he stared at the cereal on the table.

he hates cereal, he loves the food you cook for him but since you weren't around, he needed to eat it for now.

"stop crying megumi. she'll be back soon." toji said as he drink his black coffee.

megumi wiped his tears as he sniffed.

"i miss mama." megumi mumbled followed by another sniff and toji sighed as he sat beside his son.

"i miss mama too but don't worry, okay? let's have faith and be strong for her too."

"okay. but papa if mama is back you better not make her heart sad again." megumi said as he waited for his father's response and minutes passed, he noticed his father was spacing out. "papa?"

"oh?" toji snapped out of his thoughts as he smiled at megumi. "of course."

"bye bye mama." megumi said as he look away from you and you knew he was holding his tears back.

"come here." you said as he slowly approached you. "don't cry, you'll be back tomorrow, right?" megumi nods as he wiped his eyes with his sleeves. "bye bye." you said as you kissed his forehead before he went back beside toji as he held toji's hand.

you made an eye contact with toji "see you?" you said and he only nod in response.

why are you expecting something when you and toji already settled everything as friends.

toji looked at you for the last time before he and megumi left the room, leaving you alone again.

what are you even expecting? it's not like he would do something.

you just hope that he did something though. maybe a kiss on your forehead? or just a simple words of affirmation, but nevermind.

you sighed as you hug your knees, you should stop thinking about something that'll hurt your own feelings, you didn't want to worsen your state more, do you?

as if it was a coincidence, choso entered the room with papers in his hand.

"hi." you greeted as choso entered the room.

"how are you feeling?"

"nice, i guess?"

"good job, there's a lot of progress." he said.

"wow really?!" you said excitedly.

"yes, you don't have to stay for another 7 days. did your husband left already?"

"they just left."

"call them back so you could finally go home with them."

"mama, do you hate papa?" megumi suddenly asked as he looked up at you, both of you laying on the couch with book in your hand.

"why are you asking that question? of course i don't."

"really? but why do you and papa always fight?"

"we aren't fighting, megumi. that nights you saw him getting mad was because he wasn't in his right mind and he was drunk."

"oh, okay." megumi said as he lay down back on your chest as you started playing with his hair again.

"i love your papa so much, 'gumi. more than i love myself." you whispered as you smile.

toji is currently helping you with the laundry since he couldn't force you enough to take a rest.

"take a rest." toji said for the nth time as you wait for the laundry to finish.

"i'll just finish this." you said.

toji sighed, another attempt to force you failed and he could only wait for you.

he was getting impatient as he stand just at the door. he couldn't leave you alone, he's worried something might happen if he lose sight of you.

the same lullaby you're humming for megumi can be heard at the background as he watch you attentively.

but a sudden gasp left your mouth, your humming getting interrupted as you felt him hug you from behind.

"just take a rest." toji said.

"i'm almost finished." you said, an unexplainable feeling stirring in your system. it was as if you're uncomfortable at the physical touch he just initiated.

weren't you craving for his touch? now that he did it, why are you complaining?

"come on. i'll finish that. listen to your doctor, will you?" toji said as he held you by the wrist and pulled you going to the room.

"do you know what you'll do?"

"yeah, i do the laundry before." he said.

"okay, let me know if you're done."

you've met toji before, back when you were in middle school. maybe he doesn't remember you but you remember him.

that time when someone was making fun of you, he involved himself and protected you. it wasn't really a fight, it was just him pushing them away that made them run away from the scene.

"thank you." you mumbled and when he looked back at you, you noticed a band aid on the side of his mouth that was already red in color. he only looked at you as he walked away. but before he could get away, you held him by his hand. he made an irritated expression that scared you for a moment as you stutter through your words.

"i have a band aid here." you said as you look at each pocket of your clothes until you found it in your hoodie. toji was watching with an unimpressed look as he stand awkwardly. he hissed in pain when you removed the band aid from his lip and replaced it with a new one.

"there." you said. he didn't even thanked you as he left and when toji saw his reflection on a random store, the design of the band aid was really, embarrassing.. a hello kitty design.

you were at the middle of college when your parents told you to stop. they had arranged a marriage for you that you didn't even want. you didn't want to stop college, you wanted to be free but they wouldn't let you. when you met your soon to be husband, you thought he was familiar but couldn't place your finger with. you were sure that you saw this man somewhere, you just couldn't recall where.

the scar on the side of his mouth made you curious as you stare at it and it suddenly made toji self-conscious.

"ah this scar?" he said as your eyes shifted from his scar to his eyes. you were on your first 'date' with toji. the one both of your parents said to get to know each other more.

"i got this from abuse." he said straightforwardly as you laugh nervously.

"um.. did it hurt?" you asked.

"no." he said as he placed his hand near his scar and as if something slapped you mentally, toji's current position reminded you of someone. that kid from the playground, the one who defended you from the bullies, the one that you gave the band aid you just bought because you accidentally scraped your knee, but you gave it to him. toji noticed you genuinely smile at him followed with a wholehearted laugh.

"what's wrong?" he asked and you only shake your head in response.

what a coincidence. who would've thought that the kid you kept on searching for, the reason why you stayed at the playground for who knows how long, hoping to see him again was being married to you? what an unexpected turn of your life.

getting to know each other means getting to know everything in your life. personal or not. it was as if that 'date' made your heart full and ended up being broken in the end. toji was the kid you've been looking for, for a long time now but then he suddenly told you that he was already married and they had a son together.

he clarified that he only accepted the marriage because he didn't have a choice. he told you he just didn't want to disobey his parents and megumi just need a presence of a mother.

"being friends will do." he said as you hesitantly nod.

you didn't even know why you suddenly remembered the past.

"(name), where did you put-" the words died in toji's throat as he opens the door, only to find you standing at one of his drawers, a folder in your hand as you continue to stare at the paper.

the folder was immediately snatched at your hands as toji placed it back on his drawer.

"that's–" you gasped.

"no, listen–" toji mentally cursed himself. he forgot to throw the divorce papers he requested back when it's the first month of your relationship. he forgot to throw it when he was cleaning his drawers the day you were at the hospital

you looked at him, and he hated that look in your face as another curse left his mind. what should he say? how should he explain it.

"well, if that's what you want."

"no." toji said as he moved close to you but your instinct told you to step back and you did. "that was, that wasn't.." he was stuttering through his words as he heard you sigh.

your heart was aching but you have to ease the pain. you didn't want to go back to the hospital again.

"it's fine, toji. you don't have to explain." you said as you sit at the edge of the bed.

"that was before. first month of us being married." toji explained and the small shift of your mood got unnoticed by him.

"is that so?" you said, looking up at him. "maybe i did something you didn't like to ask for divorce papers, huh." you chuckled as you recalled the first month of your marriage. it was megumi finally addressing you as his mother.

toji admitted that day that he didn't want megumi calling you 'mama' but he didn't want to wipe the genuine smile on his son's face so he just let him call you his mother.

"i'm sorry." he said followed by a strong curse.

"why?"

"fuck, i'm sorry. i didn't- that was before. i don't want a divorce now." toji said and the ache in your chest suddenly disappeared as you gave him a teasing grin.

"why? don't tell me mr. fushiguro is finally starting to love me." you joked and it was clearly just a joke, but the tension suddenly changed. he wasn't laughing at your words but was looking straight in your eyes with something in it.

"i'm just joking.." you said as toji finally looked away from you. he couldn't stop cursing mentally. he was lost in his thoughts and didn't feel you moving close to him and when you were about to place a hand on his shoulder, to simply get his attention, he suddenly held you by the wrist.

"toji, what's wrong?" you asked. he started gripping your wrist tightly and both of you were interrupted by the knock on the door.

"papa! lala wants to talk to you on the telephone!" megumi yelled as you look at the door but when you look back at toji, he suddenly leaned close to you, giving your lips a peck, as if it was to reassure you and suddenly he was at the door.

you were frozen in your spot as you watch him close the door, your hand flying to your lips and caress it and instead of an ache, your heart was beating with happiness.

it was one of those nights where toji couldn't sleep again. it happens when something is bugging his mind. he was staring at the ceiling with a deadpanned expression and your shifting caught his attention. both of you were surprised when both met each other's eyes.

it suddenly became awkward.

toji sat up from the bed as he leaned his back on the headboard. you stayed at your position as you stare at the ceiling. there are questions that wanted to be answered, but you think staying quiet would be the best option for now.

toji side glanced your figure, and there were space enough for another person to fit. has it always been like this? now toji is sure that it has been always like this.

toji doesn't know what to do as he continuously stare at you until you finally look at him. (his gaze was burning holes into you.)

there, you sat up from the bed too, doing what he did as you cleared your throat to ease some of the awkwardness that was around.

"can't sleep?" he asked.

"yeah, what about you?"

"can't sleep." you chuckled at his response as you bend your knees close to your chest. why is it starting to get cold?

"about the divorce-"

"i already told you that it was before.. i have no intention in pushing the divorce."

"why?" you asked and toji thinks he doesn't even know why. you were itching to know the reason when toji could've pushed through the divorce long ago.

"why? don't tell me mr. fushiguro is finally starting to love me." you recalled those words you said last morning and to your side, it was clearly just a joke so you removed that as one of the reasons why.

"was it because you found out i was sick?"

"no." he felt embarrassed on how quick he disagreed with your question. "i mean-"

"hm, what could be the reason.." you mumbled as if you're talking to yourself and toji couldn't help but observe you.

"it's best if we sleep for now." toji said as you hummed in response and started tucking yourself at the duvet, facing the wall. you weren't even surprised when you felt him pull you close to his chest. it was as if you're expecting him to do that. and he really did and there, you faced him as you wrapped your arms around his figure with your face hiding on his chest. toji inhaled your shampoo as he sighed in satisfaction.

"will this help you to sleep?" you asked as you look up at him. toji looked down at you with that stupid smirk on his face.

"i could ask you the same question." he said as he chuckled when you went back to hide your face on his chest.

"it will." you whispered but toji surely heared it clearly.

"then that goes the same for me."

"mama loves to cuddle." megumi said as he looked at toji's plain expression. megumi copied his father's expression after looking away from him, continuing the assignment he was doing.

"that's all?" toji said as megumi scoffed at him.

"you asked me what mama likes the most!" megumi argued as he fully face his father. "that's the most, mama loves cuddles!"

"okay okay, stop yelling." toji said when he heard your footsteps approaching them.

"good morning, mama!" megumi greeted as he ran towards you to hug you.

"good morning, megumi." you said, looking at toji as you nod at him.

"morning." he said as megumi pulled you on the table at the living room, showing his little drawing to you and toji.

"what's that?" you asked as megumi smiled.

"this is mama," megumi said as he pointed at you. "this is papa and this is 'gumi."

oh. it was a family drawing. your heart started beating through your ears as you look at megumi.

"my teacher said our assignment is to draw a family!" megumi exclaimed excitedly as he faced you and toji.

family? could you even consider yourself as one of their family? megumi could've drawn his real mother, why did he have to-

your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a hand on your back. you looked back and saw toji looking at you, it was different, the way his eyes calmed you. you awkwardly smiled at him as he pulled you close to his side while placing his other hand on megumi's shoulder.

"what's this?" toji asked as he pointed at a drawing which is color white and black.

"it's my dream dog! i want white and black." megumi said. your heart was racing as you feel the warmth of toji's palm on your side.

"why is mama carrying a stick?" toji asked as megumi huffed.

"so she can beat you when you hurt her again." megumi said as you laugh, finally joining in their conversation.

"that's cruel, megumi. i couldn't hurt your papa." you didn't even feel when toji already removed his hand on your side as he watch you and megumi, a smile making its way on his face.

"there.." you said as you dropped the pencil at the table.

"wow!" megumi exclaimed as you revealed some changes in his drawing.

"what are you holding, mama?" megumi asked.

"roses, mama loves roses." you said as you pat megumi's head.

"oh okay! then 'gumi loves roses too." megumi said as he grinned at you.

"but there are many types of roses." you said as you fixed megumi's disheveled shirt.

"really? what's your favorite among them, mama? megumi asked.

"the purple one!" you said as megumi nods at you.

"why not red, mama? red is famous one right?"

"yes, but i love purple more. because it means love at first sight." you said as you bump megumi's nose with your pointer finger.

you watch him look to the side as you follow his line of sight. he was looking at his father. you forgot that toji was even there as you look away with embarrassment. clearing his throat, toji stood up from the couch as he brushed his hair with his fingers.

"i'm gonna prepare for work." he said before leaving as megumi watch his father disappeared from his sight.

"mama, is papa your love at first sight?" megumi asked when his father wasn't around anymore. you smiled as you recalled the very first day you laid your eyes on him.

"he is." you said with admiration in your tone. "did you know i met your papa when he was a kid?" you said.

"really? what's he like?!" megumi asked with excitement as he leaned close to you.

"hm, he's still the same.. but he saved me from bullies." you said as megumi kept quiet, wanting to know more. "i scraped my knee but i gave my band aid to him because his lips were bleeding."

"is that why papa have a scar?"

"i guess?" you said as you ruffled megumi's hair. "it's just a secret between us, okay?" you whispered as megumi nods at you.

unbeknownst to you, he heard everything you told megumi as he recalled that day where he first got the scar on his lip, that hello kitty band aid. so it was you, huh.

toji left after eating breakfast and it was past lunch when you heard a knock on your front door.

but you weren't expecting visitors, who could it be?

you were surprised when you're met with, no one. but there was a bouquet of purple roses on your doorsteps.

you picked it up as you read the note.

'this is for you, i hope you like it.'

you bit your bottom lip to suppress the smile but it couldn't be helped.

you inhaled the scent of the roses as you finally went inside the house.

"thank you for the roses, toji." night finally approached as toji looked up from his laptop and to you.

"what roses?" he asked as you look at him in disbelief.

"that- you, weren't you the one-" toji suddenly laughed as he closed his laptop.

"i'm just kidding." he said as you glared at him.

"not funny!" you said, almost embarrassed when you stammered with your words just a minute ago.

"did you like it?" toji asked as he started preparing the duvet.

as if it was already planned, you move close to him as he finally covered both of your bodies with the duvet. "i love it."

toji's arms automatically made its way to wrap securely around you.

"how's your check up with choso?" toji asked as he switched off the lamp.

"he recommended me another medicine."

"huh? why? i thought you're getting better?" toji asked as you silently laugh at him.

"yes i am, it was just a vitamin, i mean."

"ah, is that so?"

"mhm."

"sleepy already?" toji asked in a teasing tone and you only further hide your face on his chest. "goodnight." he mumbled.

"i love you, toji." you mumbled against his chest. "you can say it back when you're ready." you said as you look up at him and toji lightly smiled at you.

"i'm almost there.." he mumbled.

"i can still wait.." you said as you looked at him with glint in your eyes. toji let you kiss him on the lips before you went back on hiding your face. he chuckled as he pulled you closer with his hand behind your head.

it was a random night, a random song that was being played on the radio can be heard as you sit down on the couch of the living room. the lights were all closed, the street light outside being the only source of light inside your home.

toji wasn't home yet and megumi is already sleeping in his room.

your head almost fell on the couch when the click of the door woke you up.

toji sighed as he closed the door.

"i'm home." he muttered, but didn't expect to see you approaching him in the dark.

"welcome back." you greeted as you took his bag on his hand, guiding him on the living room.

"have you eaten?" you asked.

"ye-"

"let's eat together, i'm hungry!" you exclaimed as you held him by his hand, guiding him to the kitchen. well maybe eating dinner for the second time wouldn't hurt. toji thought.

"megumi?" he asked.

"already sleeping." you replied with an almost sleepy voice as toji sighed.

"you didn't have to wait for me." he said as he stand beside your almost sleeping form. "let's get you to bed." toji said and carried you in a bridal style.

"toji.. let's sleep." you said as he unbuttoned his almost tight polo.

"yeah, i'll just changed my clothes."

"hurryy."

"did you drink?" toji asked as he lied beside you.

"no."

"why are you being clingy?" he asked.

"miss you." you mumbled, wrapping your arms on his figure. "did you miss me?" you asked and toji couldn't help but smell you.

you didn't even smell like alcohol.

"i'm not drunk, i'm just sleepy." you said as if you just read his mind.

"alright."

"you didn't answer me yet."

"i did." he said as you squealed in happiness.

"okay, good night. i love you." you mumbled.

toji gaze softened as he pulled you close to his chest.

"good night." i love you too.

it was late at night again and toji was still not home. megumi was sent back home by a school bus last afternoon.

you haven't eaten yet. you were waiting for toji so both of you could eat dinner at the same time again and the door clicked as you stood up from the couch.

"i'm home." toji mumbled.

"welcome back!" you exclaimed.

if yesterday you were sleepy, today you have a lot of energy. you took the bag from toji's hand as you walked ahead, only to be pulled back when toji held your wrist, placing a kiss on your forehead as he loosened his tie.

it sure caught you off guard as toji walked past you as if nothing happened.

"well, have you eaten?" you asked, almost stuttering.

"yes." he responded and you mentally frowned.

"okayy." you said as you help him remove his blazer.

"what about you?" he asked, but before you could answer, your stomach growling did it for you. embarrassing.

"well, i guess eating dinner for the second time wouldn't hurt, right?" he said.

"hi, welcome back.." you slowly said as you took toji's bag in your hand.

"i'm home." he muttered, walking past you but suddenly he went back and give your forehead a kiss before removing his watch.

"bad day?" you asked, helping him remove his blazer.

"yeah, i think i couldn't eat dinner with you tonight." he said with a frown.

"it's fine! you go and rest." you said, giving him a smile of reassurance.

toji frowned once again when you made your way to the kitchen. you were humming a song but you were stopped when you saw toji sitting at his usual spot. you blinked twice at him as he sighed.

"well, i got hungry." he said, not looking at your way.

"okay! i'll re-heat some more then." you exclaimed with a smile and toji couldn't help but mirror it.

"thank you for the food."

another bad day.

you noticed it the moment toji entered the house with a slumped shoulders.

"welcome back." you greeted, doing the same routine.

"i'm home." he responded, hooking an arm around you before placing a kiss on your.. lips? "what's dinner for today?" he asked as he started unbuttoning his polo. "(name)? what's wrong?" he asked.

"w-well, i made your favorite." you stammered as you made your way infront of him, helping him remove his blazer.

toji made his way first at the kitchen, taking a mug from the cabinet and it caught your attention.

"coffee?" you asked as he nods and suddenly, you placed a hand on his back.

"take a seat. i'll make you one." you said.

"i can do it myself."

"just let me take care of this, okay? you're tired from work." you said, turning on your back to make him a black coffee when you suddenly felt his weight behind you.

"thank you." he mumbled before going back to sit and it made you proud of yourself.

"welcom-" you were cut off when toji harshly kissed you, his hand flying at the back of your head as he pushed you, until your body collided with a wall. "toji-" you mumbled through his kisses as you pat his shoulder. "can't breathe!" you said as he finally pulled away, with him leaning his forehead on yours as both of you catch your breaths.

"bad day again?" you asked but he only clicked his tongue, continuing his task on you, the food you made being forgotten as he carried you and made his way on the bedroom, and also not forgetting to lock the door.

thank goodness it was saturday today.

your whole body was aching and toji was out of sight as you sat up from the bed.

"mama?" megumi's voice can be heard at the door as he knocked three times before opening, only to see you on the ground. "mama!" megumi exclaimed as he approached you. "papa help!" megumi yelled as he struggled to help you stand up.

"megumi look out for the food in the kitchen." toji said as megumi followed what he was instructed.

"it hurts." you said as toji easily carried you, placing you back on the bed.

"guess i went rough last night." he mocked.

"shut up!"

"i'm home." toji said as he entered the house. you smiled as you approached him.

"not a bad day anymore?" you joked as he laughed, hooking a hand around you as he placed a kiss on your lips. you were used to it now.

"yeah." he replied as both of you did the usual routine.

after the dinner, you were quiet. it was unusual for you to be silent.

"toji-"

"what's wrong?" he asked, cutting you off. the night you both shared was 2 weeks ago, you were supposed to have your period 2 days ago but none came.

"i'm late." you said, starting to get stressed. "i'm scared, what if i ended up being pregnant-"

"then that's good. megumi will have a playmate. is it not?"

"but-"

"it's okay." he said, taking your hand on his and you were surprised when he removed the wedding ring on your finger, placing a new one. "wear this from now on." he said, placing a new ring with a rare design on it.

"thank you.. i love it but, why?"

"i want to get married again." he said, looking straight in your eyes.

"but we're already married." you said as you frowned.

"but for real this time." he said with a smile. "you know, before, i wasn't-" he paused, he couldn't say it but you already understood what he was saying.

"i understand." you said as you laughed.

"will you marry me again?" he asked and you couldn't contain the big smile that was on your face.

"i would love too!" you said as you embraced him, with him spinning you around.

"i love you (name).. thank you for staying with me and megumi. thank you for not giving up on us.. on me." he said and you couldn't help but tear up.

finally. it's finally happening.

"i love you too." you responded with a shaky voice as he wiped your tears with his thumb before finally connecting his lips with yours.

it was worth all the wait.

#nana.gumi #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk angst #toji x you #toji angst #toji fushiguro angst #megumi angst #fushiguro angst #jjk #toji smut

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lemonlover1110 · 4 months

Text

𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Ever since you spilled coffee on your co-worker, you find yourself getting in compromising situations with him.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, co-worker Toji, office sex, oral sex (m. receiving), gagging, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, praise, semi-public sex(?? they're in the janitor's closet in the first part and there's people outside)

*Finally the last one!!! thank you all so much for 10k again🥹 I'm almost at 13k now so thank you all so much for your support, I love you all so very much

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Apart from his name, you don’t know anything about the man you work with. Toji sits next to you eight hours a day, yet you’ve never gotten to properly know him. You have no idea if he’s married, if he has kids, a pet– What waits for him when he gets home? Does he have any hobbies? The only time you ever talk is about work, and you typically wouldn’t care about knowing your coworkers if it weren’t for the fact that you constantly find yourself daydreaming over Toji.

What you like the most about Toji may be the fact that he barely speaks since it leaves you questioning everything about his personality. You make a perfect version of your co-worker in your head which has you head over heels for him. It certainly doesn’t help that Toji is exactly the type of man who you want behind you, fucking you senseless.

You hate to have those types of thoughts in the middle of the day, and worst of all, you’re mindlessly staring at him, and it’s too late to turn away when he asks you what’s wrong. He clears his throat, and you feel your face burning hot when he asks, “Is everything okay? Do I have something on my shirt?”

“Oh– No! Sorry…” You can’t play it off much since you stared at him like a lovesick teenage girl. You try to ignore the awkward interaction by looking back at your computer, trying to go back to work, trying to ignore the very embarrassing fact that Toji caught you daydreaming.

You feel his eyes on you as you turn back to your work, and you swear you could crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment. His gaze lingers on you for a moment before Toji turns his attention back to his own job. You don’t stress about it, completely forgetting about the awkward interaction after five minutes.

You work fine throughout the afternoon, and when you finally get out of your chair to take a break, you bump into him. Toji’s coffee spills all over his white button up shirt, making a gasp leave your lips. Toji doesn’t have much of a reaction even though the coffee looks hot. Your immediate reaction is to rub your long sleeve on his shirt to try to clean it up. You’re repeating, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I should watch where I’m going.”

“It’s fine. You’re fine.” Toji just holds his arms up as if he were being threatened by a gun. Toji isn’t a man that gets flustered easily but by the way you’re unintentionally touching him to clean him up, his cheeks burn. “It’s fine, really. I’ll just clean up in the bathroom–”

“I’m sorry.” You jerk back when you realize just how much you’ve been touching him without his permission. He lets out a chuckle, making it seem that it’s fine. It was an honest mistake, he surely doesn’t mind if a pretty girl bumps into him… Now, if it was one of the old guys that work in the office, it’d be a whole different story. You watch him walk away, mentally cursing at yourself for being so fucking dumb.

You notice the mess on the floor and you tiptoe around it to go to the janitor’s closet and get some stuff to clean it up. You enter the small room, turning on the light to look for some paper towels. You click your tongue, seeing that they’re on the top shelf.

You stand on your tippy toes trying to reach a roll but they’re too far back for you. Would it be too embarrassing to jump? Nobody is watching… Just when you’re about to jump, you feel a body pressed against your back. Your head slowly turns, and luckily, you find your handsome co-worker, grabbing the paper towel for you.

“Here you go.” He gives it to you when you turn around, and you awkwardly smile at him as you take it from his hand.

“Thank you, Fushiguro. Again, I’m so sorry.” You repeat. You feel your heart skip a beat when you realize just how close he is, hearing him breathe and feeling the warmth that his body gives. His dark green eyes are filled with lust, and he makes no effort in disguising it. You’re flattered, really, but this isn’t appropriate considering where you’re at.

“Please, call me Toji.” He licks his lips, and you feel as if you’re burning up. The heat his body emits really doesn’t help you cool you down either. Your eyes look at the door that’s closed for a reason… It’s locked.

You’ve imagined this scenario one too many times, and you always imagined yourself as the most confident woman in the world– But as it happens to you, you’re too shy to really do anything. “I’ve seen the way you look at me… And thought of a way your pretty face could make up for my ruined shirt.”

“Toji…” Is all that manages to leave your pathetic lips. You’re not scared, your body is practically begging for his touch. “It’s not appropriate to do what you want to do here.”

“Why not? The door is locked.” He says as he grabs your hand and puts it on his belt. His lips meet yours, his tongue going past your lips and wandering around in your mouth before it presses against yours. He’s just like you imagined, intoxicating.

Your hands begin to move on their own, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants. You can’t take too long since you have to get back to work soon, it’ll be quick, hopefully. You pull away from the kiss, getting on your knees. You pull down his briefs, letting his cock free from its confinement. It’s more than you expected.

You lick your lip before biting down and looking up at him. He has a smirk on his face as he waits for you to do more than just stare. Your tongue licks up from the base to the tip before fully wrapping your mouth around it, taking as much as you can get.

You bob your head slowly, starting off slow. And as Toji feels your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock, he thinks that maybe this wasn’t his brightest idea. He lets out a breathy moan, feeling so good. Your bobs begin to pick up a bit of speed, and the man stops talking for a second to enjoy the feeling of your mouth wrapped around his cock.

“You look so pretty on your knees like that. You’re just a pretty little thing.” He sighs, relieved. He decides to bite his bottom lip, holding back moans so the whole office doesn’t hear him as you suck him off. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

You look up at him, pleased with what you’re doing. You’re doing what you’ve always thought of doing with him– But you’re in the office. You can’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be heard. But he got a bit too caught up, enjoying the feeling of your mouth and your tongue.

He grabs the back of your head and pushes your head so you gag on his cock. It’s your punishment for ruining his shirt. Your gagging is like music to his ears, the greatest melody he has ever heard.

“Fuck– Fuck-” He moans as a couple of tears leave your eyes. He begins to move his hips, which he finds more fun than just pushing your head on his cock. “God, such a pretty girl taking my cock.”

He’s completely forgotten about the fact that you’re in the office, and he’s getting loud. He’s staring down at you, admiring just how beautiful you look with your mouth wrapped around him. He lets out a groan, filling your mouth with his cum.

He finally lets go of your head, and you take your mouth off his cock. You swallow most of his cum, but some of it manages to escape and it drips down the corners of your mouth. Toji bends down to clean it up, pressing you to open your mouth so he can wipe the remaining cum on your tongue.

“You have to fix your makeup, by the way. I’ll see you out there.” Toji says, fixing his pants before unlocking the door and leaving you to fix yourself up.

You’d definitely be mad being left alone so fast after sucking a guy off, but you can’t be mad at him. If anything, it makes you want him even more.

“Hey, can you help me with this?” Toji asks, eyes focused on the new program that you’re working with. It’s no surprise that he doesn’t know how to use it– Not that you want to be rude but it makes sense.

After your little encounter in the janitor’s closet, Toji hasn’t really tried to do anything else with you. You were slightly disappointed but you managed to move on. What really worried you was any of your co-workers hearing how he moaned while you two just managed to be locked in the janitor’s closet. What really made things confusing was the fact that you came back with no paper towels even though you were going to clean up the mess you just made.

“Yeah sure.” You’re sure that it won’t take too long. You’re off in around thirty minutes, teaching him shouldn’t take longer than five minutes.

At least that’s what you thought, it seems that Toji isn’t smart enough to catch on with it quickly. Your co-workers begin to leave one by one, and when you’re the last ones in the office, you’re convinced that Toji isn’t even qualified for the job. Until you realize that Toji isn’t even paying attention, his eyes have been ogling your cleavage the entire time… It’s not like you can even blame the poor guy since your boobs have been practically on his face the entire time.

“Should we continue this tomorrow? It seems your eyes are elsewhere.” You point out, and he lets out a chuckle.

“I agree. We should continue with that tomorrow. I need help with something else though.” Toji says, clicking out of the program.

“Can we do it tomorrow–” You begin but he shakes his head. You furrow your brows in confusion as you watch him turn off the computer. What exactly does he need help with?

Toji stands up from his chair, taking two steps to get close to you before his hand goes under your chin and he makes you look up at him. It clicks right there and then. Toji didn’t need to learn how to use the program, he just wanted to get you all alone in the office.

“I don’t think this issue can wait till tomorrow.” His voice becomes husky, and you squeeze your thighs out of reflex. You’re not planning on fighting it. He’s been flirtatious with you all morning, and you’ve been thinking of him a million different positions he can put you in… Curse your dirty mind.

“Does it really? I thought you didn’t even want me after… Well, you know, the incident in the janitor’s closet. You didn’t even try to make a move on me after.” You point out, and Toji laughs. You don’t exactly find what’s funny about this. “What’s funny?”

“Maybe you’re just not available for me. You’re always going out with everyone else, what do you want me to do? Steal you from them? Let them know I want to fuck the shit out of you?” He answers. And maybe he’s right, you have been going out with your other co-workers after work to get a drink, and when it’s not that, he’s out of the office. You really haven’t given him much of a chance to ask you out or let him fuck you after work.

You won’t admit you’re at fault, therefore you decide to move your hands to the back of his head.

“Just shut up and kiss me.” You tell him, pulling him into a kiss. It’s not worth spending time arguing any longer since you two clearly want to do something that doesn’t involve much talking. While your tongues press against each other, his hands move under your ass to lift you up and put you on his desk.

As he kisses you passionately, his hand goes to your thigh, caressing the soft flesh that your skirt exposes. His hand goes up to your panties, toying with your clothed cunt, working you up. He moves your panties to the side, running his fingers through your already slick folds. He pulls away with a smirk on his face, only to say, “You’re already so wet for me, pretty girl. But I haven’t done anything?”

“Shut up.” You sound embarrassed, and you are. Just the thought of him fucking you is enough to make you go crazy.

He pushes two fingers into your cunt, his lips landing on yours again. His tongue glides over yours while he curves his fingers, searching for your sweet spot. He knows when he finds it, feeling a moan through your tongue.

His fingers toy with you, while his free hand frees his cock. He pulls his fingers out when his cock is free. He runs the tip through your folds, and he begins to tease you. You hold your breath in anticipation, waiting ever so patiently for Toji to bury himself inside of you.

You breathe in as he pushes himself inside of you. He lets out a breathy moan as your walls wrap around his cock. Fuck, he didn’t think you would feel so tight and warm around him… Oh fuck, this is too fucking good. How did he not fuck you in the janitor’s closet immediately?

His cock slowly stretches you out, and you bite your bottom lip, holding back from being loud. There’s no one around, but you still don’t want to draw any attention to yourself.

Toji starts off slow but quickly picks up speed. You’re taking him so well, and fuck, do you look beautiful. He’s surprised he hadn’t made a move sooner– But he couldn’t, he had no way of knowing that you liked him. Not until he caught you daydreaming while staring at him.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He tells you as his head goes to the crook of your neck. He licks it before biting down lightly. His head remains buried on your neck, where he lets his moans out so they come out muffled. “And your pussy is so fucking tight.”

He’s too lost in pleasure to even have noticed how your hand had gone down and now you’re playing with your clit. He hears your sweet moans in the air, which is truly the best music that has ever graced his ears. Fuck, he could ask you to marry him right then and there just to hear that every morning and night.

“Oh fuck, Toji–” Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. Toji’s hitting just the right spot, and he doesn’t even know it. You’re squeezing around him as your orgasm nears. You had many ideas on how your work day would end, but you truly didn’t expect to be on cloud nine when it ended.

Thank the heavens for Toji. That’s all you can think about when you reach your high, loudly moaning his name which echoes in the empty office building.

Toji’s breath gets caught up in his chest, his thrusts getting sloppy as his release approaches. He doesn’t want this to end yet– But maybe he could invite you out to dinner and then take you back to his place. The night doesn’t have to end so soon…

His nails dig into the soft flesh of your thighs as he reaches his release, his hot cum filling you up. Toji remains buried inside of you for a moment, while you both take a moment to regulate your breath. He pulls out and fixes your panties quickly before his cum gets everywhere.

You’re both quiet as you gather your stuff to leave. You wait for each other to go to the elevator, and even when you’re inside the lift, you’re awfully quiet for a pair of people that just had sex.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” You smile at Toji when you get to your floor. He grabs your hand before you can walk away and he proposes,

“Let’s actually grab a drink.”

2K notes · View notes

dvrk-moon · 2 months

Text

ENHYPEN ; 엔하이픈

HAVING AN IDOL S/O

requested : yes!!!

genre : fluff, crack

pairing : enhypen ot7 x fem!reader

warnings : cursing, this is long asfk LOL

HEESEUNG ; 희승

so you two trained together

and you mutually liked each other while training but didn’t really talk much

you ended up leaving bighit in early 2018 and going to train at cube instead

so you lost contact

but you ended up debuting as the maknae of (g)i-dle

and since you debuted before enhypen, you were more well known than they were initially

you were one of the more famous members in the group in korea, so your face was pretty inescapable

so imagine heeseung’s reaction when he sees a birthday ad for you for the first time

mind literally blown

so he’s like looking you and your group up to see if it’s really you (it is)

and he’s like damn i gotta get in contact with her again

but he doesn’t have an opportunity because even from a friends standpoint, he didn’t really have time because he had to focus on training and eventually going through i-land

ok skip forward and he’s debuted yay!!!!!

so you had a promotion period that’d lined up around a year and a half later where you made a duo debut with your member shuhua while enha was promoting manifesto

and heeseung saw you backstage once

between him seeing you for the first time up until that point he’d literally been trying to find out how to talk to you again

and this was his opportunity!

so before you went to perform heeseung approached you randomly

and lowkey you’d forgotten about heeseung until you saw him again lol

and you’re like oh hey… so awkward because what do you genuinely say to someone you haven’t talked to in like four years

but when you remember that he’s the heeseung that you talked to during your trainee days (the same heeseung you had a thing for) you are more willing to talk to him

but then your conversation is cut short because you have to go perform your song

when you come back, he’s still waiting for you :((((

like that man is COMMITTED to getting to talk to you again

so then after like thirty minutes of talking (right before he has to go promote his song) he finally gets the courage to ask for your number

and you’re like shit yeah

so he texts you like every day

and during your overlapping promotions, he tries to meet up with you backstage as frequently as possible

so eventually you gain feelings for him again (and he obviously does for you) and you start hanging out

but then he goes on tour for a while

you miss him a lot

and he misses you a lot

so when he comes back, he impulsively like picked you up while hugging and you’re like um okay MARRY ME

one hangout he finally asks you out (as more than friends) and you’re so excited

so you quickly begin dating :)

dating him is definitely like dating your number one supporter

like he makes it a point to meet you backstage (even if you don’t have an overlapping promotion) and he makes you teach him your choreography

and you’re like “heeseung i can teach you this at your or my dorm” and he’s like “nope i need everyone here to know that you only teach me your dances”

you’re like “???” but don’t question it bc he’s just odd

he prefers you to go over to his dorms because of his solo room but he’s not opposed to making friends with your members even though they’re all older than him

just know if you go over to enha’s dorms though they will 100% try to be around you all the time

and don’t get heeseung wrong, he obviously wanted the members to like you, but he also wasn’t anticipating his own girlfriend being stolen from him

you almost get caught by dispatch a couple times

but dispatch fr fr catches him at MAMA

like this man was so protective of his idol image for so long and the he watched your performance and dispatch was like “WRITE THAT DOWN WRITE THAT DOWN”

does not gaf if you’re exposed tho bc he’s like “yup that’s my girlfriend suck it she’s MINE”

JAY ; 제이

so you debuted before him

by like a year and a half, so like january 2019

you were one of the members of itzy, which was the talk of the town for quite some time

and jay was actually a huge fan of your group since he was a trainee

your group had a few hit songs in korea but jay made it seem like every song of yours (yes this includes b sides)

you’d been his bias since your teaser dropped ofc

and he made it everyone’s problem to listen to your music during practice

even during i-land there were clips of him doing the shoulder move from ‘wannabe’

but i digress

so once his debut place is secured as of i-land episode 12 he was so excited that he might have the opportunity of meeting you

but like. he had to be normal about it

so he freaked out about you respectfully

but “respectfully” to him was mentioning you as his role model and ideal type

on like every variety program possible

like damn we get it!!!!

but your and his companies thought it would be just so silly and funny if they brought you out to meet him the next time he mentioned you

and so they did exactly that!!!

he was on weekly idol and all of a sudden you came out from where the staff were filming

he actually almost fainted on the spot

and you thought it was sooo cute that he was that flattered over meeting you

so you approached him and asked him for his number

cue him almost passing out pt 2

but you end up talking quite a bit

like u come visit him quite often and he comes to visit you

and he like is literally like the perfect talking stage

so it takes like zero time for you guys to actually start dating

but when he can’t visit you he’s texting you all the time

“your stage was so good how are you real”

always buying albums for each other for support

and he’s like $$ so he buys a ton of yours (and of his if you want some)

he gets so excited when he pulls your photocard and is so happy when you pull his because he thinks it’s fate

but the one time he caught riki’s photocard in the back of your phone he swapped it out for his almost immediately

he always jokes about his bias being yuna, and so you’ve started to make a point of saying your bias is jungwon and sunghoon

and because you did that you took a picture of you and jungwon once to send to him like “proof that my bias is jungwon”

that pic became his lock screen btw

you one time said that you were an enhypen fan and midzy and engene were freaking out

they were like “just date already smh”

little did they know that you already were!

JAKE ; 제이크

you were a year and a half their junior

and you debuted in kep1er

so the time that they were promoting blessed cursed you were promoting wa da da

and like you’d just debuted too

so you had just done a stage and were on your way to your groups van to go back to the dorms

and you go to enter the first black van you see with an open door

and instead of your members you’re met with jake sunghoon sunoo!

you turned red immediately and ran in the other direction to actually find your van where yujin, yeseo, chaehyun, and hiyyih were waiting for you

you told your members and they thought it was so funny

but jokes on them

because the very next week, jake had accidentally walked into your waiting room at mcountdown

who’s laughing now!!! (you are)

after the incident, he found you and came to apologize for walking in

and you were like “ohhh that’s so funny because i actually was the one who came into your van last week!”

but after the apologies were exchanged, you two ended up walking around backstage anyways and just talking about anything and everything

after you and your members had to go perform, jake just waited for you backstage

and once you were done performing you came back and talked to him more ! yay !

but then soon enha had to go on to perform b-c and by the time he came back, your group had already left :’(

it’s okay though because you left your phone number on a post-it that said “FOR JAKE” in their waiting room

enhypen teased him so hard but he was like whatever at least i got her number

so he texted you like almost immediately

soon after, you two texted like all the time and started meeting backstage whenever it was possible

jake asked you out for the first time right before you went on stage to perform and obviously you said yes

but when you went to perform, your voice was such a bright red color that it went viral amongst kep1ians (and later other fandoms)

after that stage, jake and you just sat and talked in the kep1er waiting room for sooooo long

he’s literally the biggest fan of your group

like he’s so open and genuine about how much he likes your group, and he always somehow has one of your songs on his recommendation playlists

and those songs will somehow always be sandwiched between the most beautiful love songs ever and it makes engenes go 🤨🤨

you also are open about being a fan of them

so basically your fans and his have already put two and two together very quickly

but the suspicions were confirmed when he posted a late-night river view picture on weverse and then you posted something extremely similar a couple days later

winning the idgaf war about people finding out though

like he’s like DONTTTT CAREEEEE <3 MY GF

he actually thinks it’d be better if people knew so that no one would try anything on you because you’re taken

SUNGHOON ; 성훈

you were the seventh member of ive, also known as wonyoung’s group

and like wonyoung is your bff

she knew you found sunghoon cute from all the times you’d asked her if you could come visit her on music bank days

so she wanted to play matchmaker!

(love me not reference?!?!)

anyways

she gets “sick” once and is like “hey y/n why don’t you stand in for me?”

and you’re like “yeah sure whatever idc it’s chill”

it’s not chill

for reference, sunghoon also thought it was going to be chill, because he had no idea that you were standing in for wonyoung

little did wonyoung know, sunghoon also found you very attractive

ofc he would’ve tried to get your number through wonyoung, but he was too introverted to even think about it

so when you get there, both of your faces are pretty red, but your cheeks at least cool down by the time you’re recording

his do not 😭

he’s like sneaking looks at you and shit

he thought he was being so subtle too about it like bye 😭😭

but fans love the interactions!!!!

and they’re sooooo stoked to have jungwon sunoo and sunghoon on the radio that you host after the fact

sunghoon fucking DRESSES for the occasion too like damn

and like you made a point to be like “nice outfit”

on the outside he was like “yeah it’s whatever” but on the inside he was shitting his pants

anyways

and so you asked him for his number because you wanted “fashion tips” (you’re a liar)

so the first time he asks you out he’s like “let me style u an outfit”

and then while doing that he’s like “let’s date!”

and you’re like “well alright”

(jk u were just as stoked)

and dating him is so relieving

because you don’t have to keep the relationship (at least beyond friends) a secret

fans love the interactions

and so when you guys actually announce the relationship everyone is so hyped

like they already expected it

but still

he never misses an opportunity to talk about you on live or on a variety show

the interviewer is like “so, sunghoon, what was your favorite part of this comeback?”

he thinks for a second. then all of a sudden, “well y/n-”

like bro we get it

he just does not even care tho bc he’s so down bad

SUNOO ; 선우

okay now so remember when sunoo was a radio dj?

yeah

so you debuted in billlie, and your song, gingamingayo had just been released

and sunoo had heard it quite a few times already on his dj show

and he’s like “ok damn i get it let me look up the song”

he became a fan so quickly

like learned the choreo and everything

so the following week on the radio show he’s like “oh have you guys heard this song it’s so good actually i’m a fan of this group”

and then BOOM next week you’re on the show he radio djs for

chemistry between u guys went CRAZY

and then you filmed a tiktok together

and posted it like a week after the radio episode had gone viral

engenes and belllie’ves went crazy

you guys had already exchanged numbers at that point too

so getting to laugh about your fans freaking out was super fun to you two

you started visiting him at radio show schedules in secret after the fact

so he ends up asking you out about a month later

and ofc you say yes

so once you started dating, he would visit you at your schedules a lot

you would often pretend to be a staff member at the radio show so you could be there without raising much question

but then one time you were a “special guest” on the radio show again, and you filmed another tiktok, but this time it wasn’t like one of your group’s dance challenges

it was like a cute trend

so once you got the okay to post it, you did

this confirmed to engenes and belllie’ves that you were friends at the very least

he always finds a way to sing your songs on live

doesn’t ever sing when it’s your part though 🤨🤨🤨 it’s almost like he wants to hear your voice

one time he came to one of your fansigns “anonymously”

people found out it was him so quickly 😭

he’s so shameless about people knowing though

after that, fans basically already know you’re dating even if you don’t outright say anything

nobody actually cares though

they’re just waiting for that third y/noo tiktok 🙏

JUNGWON ; 정원

you debuted in illit, as a result of the belift survival show “r u next?”

you came in first place, just like jungwon did on i-land

so naturally, under the same sublabel, illit and enhypen passed each other quite frequently

you’ve actually interacted quite a bit with the other members

but for some reason, their leader was a bit standoffish to you

and you had absolutely no idea why he would be

you thought that maybe it was because you’d also come in first place on your respective survival show, so maybe he had one sided beef with you?

it didn’t make sense but that’s just what you assumed

actually ☝️🤓 jungwon had a big fat crush on you

and had no idea what to do about it

like he secretly supported you on r u next? and everything

so eventually, belift decides to make a variety show for illit and enha

as the first place winners, you two are paired together, along with your japanese maknaes, ni-ki and iroha

iroha and ni-ki were already acquainted, so iroha told ni-ki about how funny it was that you and jungwon were in the same group, given that jungwon hated you

and ni-ki’s like ?!

so he like goes up to jungwon and is like “she thinks you hate her bro”

he’s so embarrassed to find out that you thought he hated you

ni-ki teases him so hard about it

so eventually jungwon admits to you (off-camera) that he doesn’t hate you, and in fact he’s quite fond of you

it lifts the biggest weight off his chest when you also admit that you’re fond of him, and that he was your role model ever since you’d joined r u next?

after filming, you two exchange numbers

he’s such a baby like seriously how could you think he hated you

it doesn’t take long AT ALL for you to start dating

in fact hybe/belift encourages it because they think it’ll be good exposure for both groups

and it highkey is

in korea, you guys gain the title of “first place couple” and omgggg knetz eat that up

you’re invited on a ton of variety shows together

jungwon is sooooo so supportive and is lowkey a stan of your group

he like sends you your fancams and is like “teach me this dance pls”

when your two groups pass each other in the hallways, enha and illit always make it a point to tease you two

you guys don’t mind though because at least you have each other ☝️☝️

RIKI ; 니키

you debuted as the maknae of loona

so you’d been in the industry a few years longer than enhypen had

so riki knew of you, but you weren’t super familiar with them

but the both of you were invited onto a variety program for foreign idols

you ended up becoming more familiar with them after being paired together with riki for a couple challenges

one interaction you had made you two go completely viral after executing a twice choreography together extremely well

both bbc and belift saw this as an opportunity to make some money, so they kinda forced you and riki to get close

little did they know that’s what you both wanted anyways lol

so like you’ll have a live with him

or you’ll film a tiktok together

or you’ll post something together

etc

somewhere along the lines you two start dating in secret

namely after you two filmed a live together

and he saw one of the comments that said “y/n please do perfect idol challenge” and you started doing the perfect idol dance on live

you started giggling because you started to forget the dance because you were embarrassed and he was smiling like a fucking maniac and then he realized he really really liked you more than a friend

and so soon after he didn’t wanna waste any more time and he just confessed that he liked you

and you were like “no way me too!!!!”

(everyone could tell)

it wasn’t super in secret though

because belift/bbc had that “bffs for life” image for you two

so you could interact freely

it just took every bone in riki’s body to not grab your hand and pull you into his arms during a dance live

but then womp womp

dispatch exposes you guys like four months into the relationship

no one cares though (except delulu fans)

so when you terminate your contract with bbc for the mistreatment, engenes beg you to audition for hybe/belift because they’re afraid if you go somewhere else you won’t be able to interact freely with him anymore and they love your interactions

you end up joining ctd, which is the company of one of the post-loona acts, along with five of your ex-members

luckily ctd is a good company so they let you and riki still stay together and still have your lives

one time riki was doing a weverse live and you showed up

and fans absolutely LOVED it

ctd is an unknown company so they unexpectedly got a lot more sales with this relationship

they were like DAMN OK

anyways

you guys teach each other your choreos A LOT

like a lot

riki eats them up so bad like fans start saying he’s the seventh member of your group 😭

a/n : had to include illit in this somehow i love them they’re so cute. sorry for the lack of posts i am sooooooo fucking busy and this was in the drafts for forever

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breadinanutshell · 7 months

Text

I made a list of Halsin facts for my own entertainment a while back but forgot to post it. Dunno if anyone would find this interesting but in case here it is, enjoy~ o/

ACT1

-He writes in tight scribbles, smokes the pipe and loves reading (likely non-fiction). He’s the studious sort, considering his unprompted interest in the parasites and his hunger for knowledge. This aspect of him was more defined in Early Access but sadly got lost during full release. It also briefly comes up during one of his banters in later chapters.

-He rarely drinks: he’s a lightweight and gets overly affectionate when drunk. He also sings when drunk. Badly, per his word.

-Is an actual Disney princess (he has birds scouting and reporting back to him).

-He has a strong sense of duty, so much so he will stop paying attention to other aspects of his life in the pursuit of it. At least in one instance, this has been depicted as a flaw (when he abandons the grove looking for the Nightsong).

-He enjoys spending time in his bear form, and appears to have been the main caretaker for the bears in the grove. Ormn in particular acts heartbroken that Halsin is missing.

-When given the chance, he’s eager to give up his position as archdruid, as he felt it was too draining and confining. Despite his insecurities in his ability as a leader, he’s more shrewd and wise than he lets on: he can play politics when necessary. And people around him have been more than happy to rely on him. He cares about those under his protection. A lot. “The grove is everything to me”.

-He doesn’t shy away from violence when provoked.

-He feels responsible for the shadow curse, and is compelled by the need to fix everything.

-This is a relic from Early Access but you’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands: in the grove there used to be a fanfic titled “Shadow’s Kiss” written by the druid Roan that featured a certain “Balsin”. At the end of it a written entry by Halsin would threaten to feed Roan to Ormn if he ever saw the name “Balsin” again.

ACT2

-He likes open spaces, reading and whittling utensils and ornaments (ducks in particular). He’s got a sweet tooth and a fondness for honey. He finds it hurtful when he's made fun of for his interests: he admits people tend to underestimate his sensitivity.

-He’s a very religious man and invokes Silvanus any chance he gets. Even so he doesn’t believe in blind faith and chides Shadowheart for not questioning Shar’s teachings.

-He’s 350 years old.

-He has no mercy for goblins, to the point where he disapproves if you spare them in Moonrise. A bit funny, considering there’s a banter later on with Karlach where he insists that “mercy costs us nothing”.

-His scars were caused by a bear who didn’t appreciate being spurned during mating season.

-He’s a veteran who served in the battle against Ketheric Thorm in Reithwin, where eventually the druids and Harpers won. At the time he was likely second to the archdruid that led him into battle. When the shadow curse started spreading, said archdruid died, leaving Halsin in charge. He immediately evacuated the survivors. He still feels guilty for not being able to help more that day. From one of his party banters it’s clear Halsin suffers from survivor’s guilt. He’s lost many friends to the curse, so many in fact that “it would take a day and a night to recite the names of the fallen”.

-Considering how obsessed he’s been with the curse ravaging the land for the past 100 years, it’s unlikely he had any intimate connections during this period of time. He also claims that more good has been done since meeting Tav than in the 100 years before their meeting.

-His family is dead and buried at the foot of the Grandfather Tree in High Forest.

-He seems used to changing environments and affiliations. Once recruited, he’s quick to call Tav his new family.

-He remains polite in the face of scorn and ridicule. Right when he joins if you suggest all he’s good for is cleaning camp he responds with an awkward chuckle and a “wherever you need me”. Later in Act 3 his affections can be brusquely turned down by comparing him to a deep rothé, to which he calmly responds “a simple no would have sufficed”.

-As a child he befriended Thaniel, a spirit of nature, and ever since then he felt a higher calling. Thaniel appears to be as fond of Halsin as Halsin is of Thaniel, mentioning him often to Fist Art Cullagh during their imprisonment in the Shadowfell.

-He is the only expert of shadow curse alive, and if killed in Act 1 the curse cannot be lifted.

ACT3

-He believes himself, or at the very least aims to be, a protector. Any failure (or perceived failure) in fulfilling said role leads him to spirals of self doubt and insecurity. His self worth is heavily dependent on how useful he can be, and without a big purpose or mission to fulfill, he appears lost. In the same vein he seems incapable of staying still and relax, he always needs something to focus on.

-In true druid spirit, he considers cities to be intruding on nature’s realm. On his arrival to Baldur’s Gate, he's appalled and disgusted by the class inequality encountered in the city. He’s disturbed by the suffering of children, in particular.

-When called naive for his dream of a better future he mentions he gave up cynicism when he was 200 years old.

-He’s all for heckling Dribbles’ corny jokes.

-He sees his body as a vessel and his physical prowess as a tool. He takes no pride in it.

-He admits that he didn’t realize how much his responsibilities had been weighting on him until Tav showed up and took that burden away.

-He’s polyamorous, and pretty lax when it comes to sex and relationships: he has no qualms in taking pleasure where “desire finds purchase”. He mentions that he had many lovers in the past and that his heart doesn’t stir lightly. This might imply he’s laid with many, but cared for few. He also doesn’t appear thrilled by the prospect of marriage/tying yourself forever to someone. For a man so against putting a relationship into words, he acts incredibly smitten when romanced and showers his partner in all kinds of sweet praises.

-He’s so attuned to his wildshape that he tends to lose control of his transformations when overcome by strong emotions (i.e. anger, arousal). He appears embarrassed when this accidentally happens in an intimate situation. He does enjoy wildshape during intercourse though, as he even proposes it himself during an interaction with Shadowheart. Per his word, he doesn’t discriminate against any type: in an interaction with Lae'zel he implies he slept with a chimera.

-He considers lust to be the most essential of impulses and feels it’s only natural to be guided by it.

-He’s travelled far and wide. Where we do not know, unfortunately. He mentions he’s been to the Underdark many times and possibly the Nelanther Isles. In his youth he ventured into the Underdark to sate his own wanderlust, where he got captured, enslaved and sexually abused by drows for 3 years.

-He’s self aware of his obsession with nature. When Jaheira warns him not to fall into druid stereotypes, he comments that he does think about other topics such as high art and politics, but to him nothing compares to a tree.

-When speaking of his past, he comments that people seem to focus on the more “salacious chapters” and disregard his years of study. When confronted about it, he seems perfectly content with a life spent studying, meditating, counselling, fighting, training and fucking.

-He used to hibernate as a bear and mentions he spent at least 100 years of his life sleeping. It’s unclear if he’s still in the habit.

-At the end of the campaign he sets out to create a new community in Reithwin with the victims of war and refugees that were turned away from the city. The children of this soon-to-be-founded community refer to him as “daddy Halsin”.

-He considers himself an exceedingly patient man.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin #bg3 spoilers #long post #brainrot be real #i might have missed stuff #but i tried to be as thorough as i could #if you want confirmation feel free to ask

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entitled-fangirl · 4 months

Text

Two idiots in love.

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: Ellie notices the two lovebirds, and decides to ask Joel about it after the reader falls asleep.

Words: 1,584

Warnings: talk of death, anemia, mutual pining, cursing, Ellie being a shithead as always...

Author's note: The way I write about this man all day long but none of the fics go together 😦

Part 2!!!

Masterlist

.......................................................................................

Joel decided to set up camp for the night, only outside of Boston by 10 miles.

Tess had just died, and things were still tender between Joel, Y/N, and Ellie.

Tess was Y/N’s older sister, and she looked up to her more than anyone.

And so did Joel.

Tess was their rock. Their steady hand in hard times. And she was gone.

But at least Joel and Y/N had each other.

They had been in an awkward “Are they? Aren’t they?” Situation for the past two years.

They liked each other, that much was clear by the stolen glances and small smiles they gave one another. But they hesitated.

They didn’t want to invest too much in each other just to watch the other die in front of them.

So, they remained friends.

Friends that like each other a lot.

And Ellie noticed it too.

She saw the way the two “friends” would share food. His hand was always placed on her waist or shoulder. Her eyes always flickered to him in a situation.

She knew they loved each other.

Y/N sat her pack down, her body sore. She sat down, leaning back against the trunk of a tree.

Joel immediately took notice of her exhausted behavior, “Hey.”

She looked up, her voice soft, “…what?”

He kneels down next to her, “…you alright? Not… hurt or nothing?”

She pulls up her sleeve, revealing a nasty bruised where an infected had grabbed her.

He immediately pulled her arm in front of him, studying it.

“I’m fine…really. Just a bruise….”

His thumb grazes over her forearm lightly, his mind wandering a million miles an hour.

But that mind stilled when she spoke again, “…you alright, Joel?”

He nods, “Yeah. Fine.”

She takes that as an answer, studying the frown lines in his face with a smile of her own. She couldn’t help but like the older man. How kind he was to her. The caring touch he always gave her. She always felt her heart jump when he’d give her a soft look after practically murdering someone in front of her. In a way, it was… sweet.

Ellie had a shit eating grin on her face, watching the exchange with a careful eye.

If Joel noticed, he didn’t care enough to comment, his worry focused on the woman in front of him. “You take your meds?”

She sighed, her shoulders falling slightly, “…no.”

His eyes hardened, “Take them.”

A small smile came to her lips, “…Joel…”

“I fucking mean it. Take them. Now.”

Her smile fell, realizing how serious he had become. Her eyes watched the micro-expressions in his face change too.

She pushed herself up slightly with a huff. She pulled her pack to her, flipping the top up with a bit of an attitude. She dug around for a while. Finally, she found them, pulling out the orange pill bottle with a content sigh.

Joel reached back, pulling out his canteen, handing it to her. “Go on…”

She took the pills, taking a drink from his canteen and handing it back to him.

He smiled, “Good girl.”

And with that, he stood, going to check the perimeter.

Ellie watched him walk away, her eyebrows furrowing. She stood up, walking closer to Y/N. She then kneeled down, not much differently than Joel had. “What, uh… what was that?”

The woman scoffed softly, “…you’ve never heard of medication before?”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “No. I know what that is. I meant… you two. Like… what… I don’t know… what are you two?”

The woman looked up at the sunset. Or, at least, what she could see over the trees. She sighed, “I don’t know, El. Don’t ask things that there’s no answer to.”

Ellie huffed, moving back to her previous spot.

…

A few hours later, when the sun was long gone, the three of them sat around a small fire. Ellie sat across from Joel and Y/N, occasionally looking over at them.

Y/N’s eyelids were slightly drooping. They had been like that since they stopped for the day. It seemed that she couldn’t keep herself awake.

And Joel noticed. Of course, he did.

So, he let her lean against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

He leaned his head down, his mouth in her hair, “Wanna sleep, sweetheart?”

Her grip tightened on his arm just slightly, “no… I… I’m fine… I’m awake…”

Joel chuckled. “Nah, honey. Go to sleep. Ellie and I will watch, right?”

Ellie’s head perked up and she nodded quickly.

Y/N seemed to take that for an answer, slowly beginning to move to set up her sleeping bag.

Joel grabbed her wrist, “Hey. Just… stay here, yeah?”

She turned to look at him, her eyebrows coming together in confusion. But the confusion didn’t outweigh the exhaustion, because she quickly nodded and moved back.

She leaned against his shoulder once again, feeling his arm snake around her waist to hold her against him.

“Just sleep. I gotcha, darlin’.”

She let her eyes close, the sleep calling to her.

A silence resounded through the forest, only the cricket’s chirping being heard.

Joel held her close, relishing in the feeling it gave him to know she was there. Safe in his arms. He could see her resting next to him, her chest moving up and down with each breath.

He lightly kissed the top of her head.

It seemed only then he remembered Ellie’s presence, because his gaze shifted her her.

She had a large smirk on her face, her eyebrows raised.

Joel scoffed, “Oh, shut up.”

“I didn’t say nothing.”

“You said enough.”

She laughs to herself, going back to staring at the fire.

Y/N shivered lightly, her body temperature dropping.

Joel immediately shrugged off his jacket, moving her in his arms to wrap it around her.

It woke her up, just barely, as she began to mumble. “No… don’t… I… I’m not cold...”

He wrapped her in it, pulling her further into his arms, trying to transfer some of his heat to her.

“…Joel…”

He leaned his head down, “It’s alright… I wanted to… Let me look after you. Please, sweetheart.”

A soft breath left her lungs as she relaxed again, presumably falling back asleep.

Ellie studied the transaction, curious about something.

Joel rolled his eyes, “What now?”

Ellie continued to stare at the woman, “What’s wrong with her?”

Joel’s jaw clenched. “There’s nothing wrong with her. She just… has a harder time than most.”

“...Well, that was vague as fuck.”

“Ellie… Goddammit. Just… ugh.”

“...Well…?”

Joel sighed, “…it’s anemia. She’s anemic.”

Ellie stared at the fire, thinking, “I don’t…”

“It’s a blood disease.”

Her mouth formed a small ‘o,’ her eyes moving back to him. He took this as a sign to continue.

“The body needs oxygen. And a lot of it. There are these… carriers, I guess you could say, and they carry the oxygen through the bloodstream to different organs. They’re called blood cells.”

Ellie nodded, trying to follow along.

“Well, she doesn’t make enough of them. Her body doesn’t get enough oxygen. Makes her tired… and… whatnot…”

“So, that’s what her medicine is for?”

Joel nodded. “Hard to come by but… better than nothing.”

Ellie gulped. “And… when she doesn’t have any more?”

Joel's gaze hardened. “She has enough for the trip, alright. This is the most strenuous thing I’ll ever make her do,” his hand rubs across his face, “…fuck..” He sighed under his breath.

“So… it makes her tired and…what?”

Joel looks back up at her, “…dizzy, nauseous… she passes out sometimes, but… it’s rare. Out of breath… she’s having a harder time right now because… well.. you know…”

Ellie’s stare was blank, “…how the fuck do I know?”

Joel sighed again, his voice slightly raised, “Goddammit. Her… time of the month…”

“Oh. She’s on her period?” Ellie said with a smirk.

“Yeah. Yeah. So… even more less blood to go around… so… we’ll take it easy the next few days… give her a break.”

Ellie nods. Silence sets in before...

“You love her, don’t you?”

Joel’s head perks up, a surprised look on his face. “…What? No, I don’t…”

“Yeah you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Look at yourself, Joel.”

Joel looked down. His arm was wrapped around her waist, the other arm rubbing up and down her leg to create heat. He let out a grunt, “This is why I don’t fucking tell you things.”

Ellie scoffed, “You didn’t fucking say it. I’m looking at it, idiot.”

“Go the fuck to bed.”

“Wow. Just... wow. Way to be an adult, Joel. Real mature.”

“Goodnight.”

…

Y/N woke up a little while later to Joel moving her in his arms. She shifted, her eyes starting to open.

“Shh…. Go back to bed, baby," Joel whispered in her ear, "Just… go back to sleep for me.”

She was laying in Joel’s sleeping bag with him, his arms wrapped around her tightly, her head resting on his chest.

She hummed, “mmm… but…”

She could feel his smile, “None of that. Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll be here when you wake up. I always am.”

…

Surprisingly, Ellie was the first one to wake up that morning. She sat up, craning her neck to check for her companions.

And God, she wished she had a camera.

The two were wrapped in each other’s embrace, Joel’s soft snores echoing.

They were just two fucking idiots in love.

And Ellie made it her mission to get them together by the end of the trip.

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Author's note: I made a part 2!!!

#fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou #tlou imagine #tlou x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal

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milkteahood · 2 months

Text

unmasked

Thomas Hewitt x fem!reader

Warning: smut! minors dni!!!

Summary: more smut. But with a plot. This wasn't supposed to be a smut, but of course it is. Because that's just how I am as a person.

Living with the Hewitt family wasn’t always easy, but it sure had its nice parts, and the nicest part was Thomas. Oh yes, the reason you were still alive today was simply being a decent person to Thomas. Which slowly progressed to more, finding yourself in this limbo of having a huge crush on him, while he was still keeping you at arm’s length.

It was very strange to fall in love with a man whose face you never saw. Yet here you were, catching yourself staring at him again. Even though he warmed up to you, Thomas was still caught off guard whenever he saw you staring, so you tried to do your best to avoid him seeing you. That of course didn’t always work and today was one of those days.

A couple of seconds passed before you realized he was looking back at you.

“O-oh! Sorry” you said, smiling at him.

He’s been around you long enough to know you weren’t being malicious, but he still didn’t know what to make of it, so he just nodded and turned back to what he was doing.

You mentally cursed yourself for making him feel awkward, not that you could’ve helped it. Your heart ached whenever he walked into the room, yet the fear of being rejected was enough to put you back in place.

I can’t just keep living like this you thought to yourself once you resumed to cleaning the potatoes Luda Mae told you to.

Be thankful you’re even alive.

***

At supper you tried your best to keep your eyes off of Thomas, only making small conversation here and there. He would listen, and nod, occasionally tilting his head to the side. Each time, making your heart skip a beat and your cheeks turn red. You blamed it on the weather and the soup.

After supper, you helped Luda Mae with cleaning the table.

“You know sweetheart, my Tommy might be naive, but I am not” she said.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to play dumb.

“Oh hush girl. I can see how red you get when you look at my Tommy. And I can tell he feels a certain way about you too”

You were so thankful she was old, because otherwise it would’ve been impossible not to hear your heart beat out of your chest.

“Just don’t break his heart”

“No. Never!” you protested before you realized what you just admitted to.

Luda Mae just smiled at you “you’re a very sweet girl. Go on now. I will finish here”.

And with that, you were rushing out to see what Thomas was up to.

You found him sitting on the staircase in front of the house.

“Hey Thomas!” you said, sitting down next to him.

He nodded to you, eyes softening at your sight.

“Did you have a good day?” you asked, earning yourself another nod. Thomas didn’t talk, but you did not mind. You’ve been around long enough to understand him.

“I can tell he feels a certain way about you too”. Luda Mae’s words echoed in your head, making you blush. Thomas tilted his head and pointed at your now very flushed cheek.

“I’m ok!” you tried to keep your cool “it’s just really hot still outside” you continued smiling. He seemed to take that.

“And since it’s so hot… say Thomas. Would you want to go hang out by the pond? I’m done with my chores”.

He just smiled at you from behind his mask and nodded his head.

***

“Oh come on Tommy! The water is amazing” you said, dress all wet because you didn’t care to take anything off.

Thomas tried to avoid your gaze, simply because his mama raised him better, and your dress became pretty see-through.

“Tommy? Are you alright?” you started to approach him.

Thomas lifted his hand, pointing at your dress. It took you a little to realize what he was trying to say, but once you looked down, a blush crept on your face. “Oh goodness”.

After he sighed, he took off his apron and handed it to you. You were swimming in it, and it was enough to cover yourself.

You knew Thomas wasn’t going to swim, he always preferred to hang out at the shore.

“It’s fine now Thomas” you chucked when he finally turned to face you. Both of you lay down on the grass, with you turning towards him. He was looking up at the sky, not seeming to notice you were looking at him.

“This is nice”

He glanced at you and grunted. This one meant yes.

“Isn’t it hard to always wear that mask Tommy? It’s so hot today”

He didn’t answer. But you could see him clenching his fists.

“I-I mean”

He turned his head to you, frowning.

“Sorry” you said and turned on your back. He turned away from you too.

“I just” just shut up. Don’t say it. Just don’t.

You looked at him. He was looking away.

With a sigh you decided that now was the moment.

“Whatever’s underneath that mask… it won’t change how I feel about you” you almost whispered the last part, but it was enough for him to hear.

Thomas turned his head towards you, eyes widen, looking confused and a little scared.

You just smiled and placed your hand over his. He tensed, but not for long.

“Even mama noticed” you said with a chuckle.

He looked at you for a while, and you were staring to get worried that you said something wrong, until he stood up, just enough to undo his leather mask. Yet he didn’t take it off, and he was no longer looking at you.

“Tommy?”

He didn’t respond, and while he was holding his mask up with one hand and his other was clenched in a fist, you were worried you might’ve upset him by pushing him into this.

“Thomas. It’s alright” you said, taking his hand in both yours “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to”.

When his eyes finally met yours, you could clearly see the pain in them, and something else. You could see a little bit of hope.

He sighed and finally let go of his mask. He was looking down, completely avoiding your gaze. You could swear his eyes almost popped out of his head when you cupped his face, got on his lap, smiled and called him handsome. His whole body tensed up at your words, almost not wanting to believe you.

“You’re so beautiful Thomas Hewitt” you repeated yourself, this time with an even bigger smile.

Meanwhile, Thomas was completely frozen. Were you making fun of him? But you looked so genuine. How could you be? Did it really matter? No. Not when your touch was so soft and you were smiling at him like that.

He finally snapped out of his trance when you kissed him.

He didn’t know what to do, but it didn’t take long for him to start kissing you back. It was inexperienced and needy and full of buildup emotions on both sides. His hands shyly rested on your waist, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, hands tugging at his hair as the kiss got more and more intense.

He started feeling your back up and down, while you pressed against him harder, earning yourself a moan when you brushed yourself against the bulge in his pants.

Both of you pulled away and just looked at the other for a while. Then, with a confidence you didn’t think you’d see with him, he pulled you into another kiss, holding the back of your head.

He worked on your clothes while you worked on his, neither wanting to break the kiss more than you needed to.

He then flipped you over and once he was on top, he stopped again, just looking and admiring you. Your hands exploded his chest while you kissed his neck, turning him into a moaning mess. He was intoxicated by your every touch.

Feeling his erection against your inner thigh made you moan.

“You can do whatever you want to me Tommy” you said while wrapping your arms around his neck.

He just whimpered, nuzzling your neck.

“It’s alright Thomas, I want you” you said gently stroking his hair.

He nodded against your neck before kissing you again.

You helped him adjust himself and before you knew it, he was sliding inside, both of you moaning into the other’s mouth.

The pace started slow, Thomas was holding your waist with one hand and using the other to support himself.

“Oh fuck… just like that” you moaned, nails digging into his back now.

The more you moaned, the more he slammed harder and faster into you. His face was buried in your hair, taking in your scent which was slowly driving him off the edge.

He was hitting all the right places, slamming into you so hard you knew you would have trouble walking afterward.

You knew he was getting closer because his pace became more and more erratic.

“Oh fuck Tommy, cum with me, please please cum with me”.

That was enough to drive him over the edge and with a few more deep thrusts he came, making your eyes roll back while you chased your own high.

Both of you stayed like that for a while, neither wanting to move. Thomas made sure not to let his entire weight over you, while you ran your fingers through his hair and planted kisses on his forehead.

“I love you Tommy”.

His eyes widened, and he looked like he just saw a ghost. The sight was endearing and it caused you to chuckle.

“I really do” you continued.

His lower lip twitched, and he immediately squeezed you close to him, making you smile even more. You knew he felt the same. There was no need for him to say anything.

***

The sky was full of stars as you made your way back to the house. Slowly, making sure not to disturb anyone, you made your way towards Tommy’s room. You gave him another kiss in the doorway before waking in, and finally getting to sleep in the arms of your now lover.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt image #thomas hewitt x reader smut #thomas hewitt smut #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt fanfic #slashers x y/n #slashers x you #slasher x you #slashers smut #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher smut #slashers fanfiction

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jjklvr9 · 3 months

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𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

-> 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

18+ minors dni !!

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: smut, oneshot

warnings: dom jungkook, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, cursing, unprotected sex, do let me know if i missed anything!

wc: 2.2k

a/n: this is a one-shot i wrote a like yearssss ago lmao, its been up on AFF but i wanted to post it here too! it's a little bit rushed but i hope you still enjoy <3

“What are you staring at? Come on, dance with us!” a high-pitched female voice broke you apart from your long thoughts. It was a Friday night- meaning everybody would be heading over to the club, going wild and getting themselves wasted. Your two best friends along with their boyfriends forcefully made you, the only one left single pringle and too-awkward-to-mingle- to tag along with them to the club tonight. Not that you had any other plans that night but being your boring awkward self, you didn’t really like to go out to these sorts of things. It was rather too loud and crowded for your liking, making you feel all breathless and weak.

“Hey, come on!” one of your beloved best friends called out to you again, her body still grinding ever so roughly onto her boyfriend’s. Your lips curved into a slight smile and you shook your head, indicating that you were just alright sitting there all by yourself and watching them have their fun. Empty glasses and drinks were scattered all over the table yet of course- your glass was left untouched. No, you were certainly not planning on getting home wasted and getting a hangover the next morning. It was too much to bear with and you had no time to deal with those ilks of things. You leaned your back onto the sofa, your eyes observing the much-crowded place when suddenly- a lonesome-looking guy sitting on the sofa next to your group caught your attention. He was like me too, you thought as the young man was just sitting there, his back resting onto the sofa as well.

Without any hesitance, you decided to head your heels over to his side and probably make a new friend by the end of the night. As you got yourself closer to him, you finally saw his facial features clearly and holy shit- he was one fine young man. “Uhm, hey.” You slowly greeted him, only to be responded with a confused look written on his face. “Do I know you?” His voice. It was husky as you thought it would be and damn, you found that to be hella attractive. “No.. but I want to know you..?” With that he lets out a soft chuckle past his lips, none of it with any sarcasm. The male pats the space beside him, scooting away slightly to let you sit down. “Thanks.” You murmured, placing your hands on your bare thighs. Now that you were sitting down beside a guy you never met- you felt like your dress was too short and was getting shorter by the second you were breathing. It was showing off your thighs and it barely covered your upper thigh. A single misstep could lay everything bare.

“So, alone?” he asks with a smile, breaking the chain of thoughts in your head. “Uhm- no, my friends and their boyfriends are on the dance floor.” Again, he chuckles. “Same goes for me. Want a drink?” “Uh-no! it’s okay. I’ve had too many.” You lied; not wanting to sound like you were still sober and fresh in a fucking club. That would be really lame and quite embarrassing. “Well, what’s your name?” he asks, his dark orbs meeting yours making you look away and blush. If looks could kill- you’d be dead.

“Y/N”

“Jungkook.” he replies, a smile curving up the corner of his lips.

“Well then Jungkook.”

Before you could proceed with your words, you were interrupted by a group of inebriated individuals stumbling around, likely to be Jungkook's friends. You felt like you shouldn’t be intruding them as you were nothing but a mere stranger, not even waiting for Jungkook to say anything and scurried back to sit on your sofa alone.

Well- it wasn’t entirely your best friend’s fault that you were left all alone. They did invite you up to the dance floor but you were just too lazy. You were not in the mood for random sweaty strangers having their bodies pressed against yours while they utter nonsense to your ears. As time passed, you stole quick glances at the adjacent sofa, hoping to find the young man, but to your disappointment, he was no longer there. You found yourself trying to look for him everywhere when a hand suddenly grabbed your wrist lightly.

“I’m here. Sorry about just now.” It was Jungkook- unexpectedly just standing there right in front of you. “Follow me?” without any hesitation, you obediently followed him out of the noisy club and into his car down the street. You didn’t know exactly what you had just brought yourself into as he drove off from the club. This young man could be a murderer or a rapist-and hell knows what kind of crazy thing he would do to you. “Where are we going?” “My place.” He answers with ease, finally pulling over in front of a tall building. Evidently, his apartment exuded luxury, suggesting that he was likely quite affluent. Jungkook parks his car quickly and brings you up to the elevator and finally to his apartment. Everything was happening so fast, all that you could feel at the moment was confusion. The man unlocks the door, pulling you in along with him but not with much force.

“Welcome.”

His place was rather impressive, adorned in various shades of grey as the main theme, featuring a large window and a snug kitchen. There was also a huge sliding door with translucent paper covering it- probably the entrance to his bedroom. You awkwardly stood beside his couch not wanting to take a seat without his consent and waited for him to at least explain what the hell was going on. Jungkook walks over and plops down onto the couch, his face looking up at you in confusion. “Why aren’t you sitting down?” “I have to go- my friends are going to kill me if they found out I just ditched them like that.” Before you could walk away to the door, Jungkook quickly grabbed your arm-not too tightly to hurt you but enough that made you sit on his lap. The heat on your cheeks was starting to go out of hand- I probably look like a dumb tomato, you thought.

“Stay.” You turn your head slightly to get a better look at Jungkook’s face when he suddenly leans in and captures your lips with his. It took a brief moment before you actually returned the kiss. It was full of passion and lust, something both of you were craving for out of each other. Your hands were now wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you to get more out of his lips. Jungkook licks your wet cavern with his tongue before tangling both of your tongues together, sucking on them roughly. Somehow, your hands had unwrapped themselves and made their way down to his chest; caressing it up and down. Standing up, Jungkook carries you up with your legs wrapped around his waist- your lips still latched together. The young man walks towards his bedroom and gently places you down on his bed, his body hovering on top of yours. He slowly pressed himself onto you, grinding his clothed hardness onto your clothed clit. “Mmhh.” A muffled moan escapes your lips, making Jungkook pull away from the intense kiss, only to leave hard kisses on your neck and even biting it to leave a few marks.

Being all impatient, you brought your hands up to his collar and began unbuttoning his shirt, throwing it away across the room. Your itchy hands then continued to go further down, fiddling with the belt of his pants and finally being able to get that out of the way too. You softly nudged his growing clothed erection with your knee before you unzipped his pants and pushed it off his legs completely, leaving him in nothing but his red-coloured boxers. Having both of your lips still hardly pressed onto each other, Jungkook unzips your dress and pulls it off of you easily- as if it was such a common thing for him to do but you didn’t put much thought about it at that moment. Without wasting any time, his quick hands unclasped your black lacey bra and he too, threw it across the room and God knows where it was now. Jungkook’s eyes adverted from your own down to your exposed breasts, his tongue slipping out of his lips to lick them dry. “Fuck.” He cursed under his breath yet you could still hear them very clearly.

Instead of getting it on to the whole point- you decided you’d play a little game even though you knew you were going to get fucked real hard after. Literally. You held your palms on his chest and pushed him off you, making him roll to the other side only to have you hovering on top of him now. A smirk played on your lips as Jungkook looked at you in genuine confusion with a little hint of excitement. With the smirk still on your lips, you slowly made your way down till you reached eye-level with his growing crotch. “You’re so fucking hard.” You teased, biting onto the hem of his boxers and pulling it down slowly, your eyes locked with his. Jungkook bit his lips as he watched you pull his boxers off completely, letting his erect cock free itself from the heated cloth. “So hard-for me.” You let out a soft yet teasing moan, offering a smooth lick to his hardness. “Fuck-don’t tease me.” He breathed out when you gave another four or five licks. You ignored his words and continued to take his tip into your mouth, giving it a light bite before engulfing him whole; making you gag a little bit. The male’s head was now pulled back with his eyes shut tightly, his teeth biting onto his lips to suppress any sound from exiting. Jungkook didn’t want to sound weak, you see. Failing to keep his posture up together, he finally let out a groan when you started sucking onto him harshly. The pleasured male wasn’t giving much reaction to your doings, making you feel a little pissed off and you decided to leave it at that and pulled away completely when you know he was reaching his peak. “What the fuck!” he yelled, eyes widened in bewilderedness. Both of you were now in a heating tension; one who was pissed off and one who was just literally in heat.

Feeling himself getting hotter and frustrated by the second, Jungkook clutched his hands onto your arms tightly, carrying you away from being on top of him and pushed you down onto the bed. This time, it had a harder impact. You were starting to feel eager to know what he was planning to do with you yet you were also feeling a little scared of what might come out of him. The awaited male shot you a glare before he roughly tore your black underwear and pushed three of his fingers together into you. That sudden action of his made you jolt in pain, obviously not ready for his invasion. His fingers were not like those slim and longed ones, no. They were- not to say huge but slightly plump but fit. You can imagine them by yourselves on this one.

He started pulling his fingers in and out of your wet clit, every push becoming even harder than before. “So wet-for me.” Jungkook mocked you, hearing you moaning out loud when it’s barely him inside of you. Feeling your stomach clenching, you were waiting for him to finger you even quicker but instead, INSTEAD- he pulled them out completely. Before you could yell at him for being a total jerk, he pushed his erect cock up in you with a loud blow; not even wasting time to adjust and went straight into thrusting. Your eyes started to water, your back was arching to its maximum point and you were screaming his name at the top of your lungs at every hard thrust he blew into you.

“Oh fuck me- faster please..!” you squirmed in painful ecstasy, Jungkook not even having to listen to your demands as he paced up even faster than before. “You’re so fucking hot babe..” he breathes out in between his humps, hoping you would be able to hear them even though you were busy getting pleasured. “Fuck’s sake- faster! Mmhm..” this time, you moan even louder, signalling that you were reaching your climax very very very soon. “I-I’m going to cum.” Jungkook hitches, thrusting in you hard a few more times before he pulls out and lets the warm liquid flow out and stain the bed sheet.

The room was filled with nothing but the rushed breathings of your lungs and his. After some time passed by, Jungkook finally turned to your side and pulled up the blanket to cover both of your naked bodies. “Hey.” He says, making you turn your head to face his smiling face. “Hey.” Now, both of you were simply smiling, your eyes locked, each attempting to decipher the thoughts lingering in the other's mind. "Let’s have a dinner date tomorrow. I want to get to know you better.”

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #fanfic #bts x reader

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k00sblogger · 13 days

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Summary: When a movie night strikes up quite the interesting conversation, the night takes a turn that you definitely never expected.

Warnings: threesome, big dick jk, nipple play, pussy eating, dirty talk, detailed smut, sneaky behavior.

Pairing: Bsf!Jk x Fem!Reader x FemBsf!Mirae

A/n: put my own little spin on this request, hope the anon likes it.

🔗: m.list

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

"Hurry the movies starting!" mirae shouts as you and jungkook rush to finish packing the snacks into little bowls. Jungkooks continuous laughter makes you smile as you grab three sodas and rush them out to the living room.

Mirae let's out a content sigh when she sees you both, gesturing to the movie starting on the screen.

Mirae and jungkook had been your friends since freshman year of high school, and you'd basically grown up together. Seeing them turn from nerdy teens to full blown adults felt bizzare.

Just like high school, the three of you still spent all your time together. Some may say people your age should be in relationships by now, but it had just never worked out that way for any of you.

Jungkook had the same girlfriend for years, but she'd cheated on him the second they parted ways for college. After that he just never seemed to bat his eyes at a girl the same way again.

Mirae on the other hand was never one for relationships. Usually she moved around to whoever caught her eye and embraced her singleness. She was an amazing person regardless, anyone who had her would be a fool to ever let her go.

Surprisingly, she changed her ways the past year and a half. She hadn't talked to any guys, and she seemed happy with it.

Oh and you? You had a few boyfriends here and there, but your love life recently had been pretty dry. You were too caught up in work & friends to bother looking for someone to spend the rest of your life with.

You didn't really know how you felt about marriage anyway.

"Pass me the popcorn." Mirae whispers, reaching over jungkooks lap to take the bowl from you before you can even think of an answer. You don't mind, grabbing a nearby blanket and throwing it over the three of you.

The sound of popcorn being chewed is the only thing heard amongsts the three of you as the movie plays, all eyes trained on the screen.

Jungkook does his best to ignore the fact that both of you were pressed tight against him, sandwiched between the two of you as your breasts sit right against both of his arms. His pants do get a little tight, and though he didn't have a crush on either of you- he was still a man..

A man with needs to be specific. So having two girls tits pressed against him was a bit of a bummer when he may not be getting any pussy by the end of this.

You had to admit the movie was much better than you thought it'd be, and you cursed yourself for enjoying it because you knew jungkooks teasing would come soon after.

He'd suggested the movie to the both of you earlier that day, and though mirae was on board- you were not. Initially you weren't one for romance movies, and honestly you still weren't. This one just happened to be different, and you were starting to like it a little too much.

Being that it's a romance movie, it's not long before three naked bodies take place on the screen- moaning and kissing as sensually as possible. (Watching this always makes you wonder how awkward it must've been to film it.)

You could never be an actor, because you'd laugh in your co stars face if you had to fake having sex together.

"Y'know- having a threesome doesn't seem bad." mirae's statement causes you and jungkooks heads to snap toward her, watching in amusement as she shovels more popcorn into her greedy mouth.

"Really?" jungkook says, pinching the bridge of his nose at her words. She shrugs at both of us, gesturing toward the sexual scene on the tv with her hand. "You guys wouldn't be down?" she questions.

You think about it for a moment, your not exactly opposed to it. To be honest the longer you dwell upon it, the more it intrigues you- maybe it would be sort of fun?

"I think it'd be pretty cool." a cheesy smile flashes over miraes face at your confession, and she reaches over jungkook again so she can playfully nudge your shoulder. "That's my girl!"

Her sudden enthusiasm about the subject makes you laugh, and you can't stop a blush from spreading across your cheeks. "Jungkook? What do you think?"

You'd almost forgot that he was there, being that he'd been so quiet. Mirae didn't even need to ask the question, you could tell he was interested by the way he was still watching the three of them fuck on your tv screen.

"Helloooo, earth to jungkook?" you say, waving your hand in front of his face. He shakes his head when you do, almost as if he was snapping out of some trance. Mirae lifts a hand as she nods in content. "Nevermind- you've answered my question."

He gives a awkward laugh, adjusting his position on the couch to more of a slouch. "I'm down." he mutters, and the way he bites his lip afterward lets you know he's already thinking about it.

"Oh yeah? I think you'd be too scared." mirae counters, and you roll your eyes when jungkook gives her a shocked look. Clearly her little comment had gotten him riled up.

"Scared? Hell no." he scoffs, sitting up properly as he looks at you to back him up. You do nothing but shrug playfully, you weren't helping him out on this one- preferring to sit back and watch them bicker.

"You don't have the balls." mirae tests him even further, cocking her eyebrow at him as she continues to eat the last of the now cold popcorn.

"Try me." he mutters, and you can tell he's annoyed. Mirae had a way of getting to people, even you sometimes. She found it hilarious, jungkook on the other hand did not.

"Okay then, kiss y/n." the challenge makes you sit up straight, furrowing your brows at her. Well shit, you weren't disgusted at the thought- just surprised that she'd even suggest that.

Your heart beats a little faster when jungkooks turns to face you, and the look on his face was more determined than ever. Was he really gonna do it? Kiss you just to prove a point? No way.. it wasn't even that serious, just a stupid joke.

Clearly it was not, because two seconds he pulls you up and his lips are pressed flesh against yours. His hand keeps a nice hold on your cheek as he tugs a little at your lower lip before pushing his tongue into your mouth.

Oh.

This wasn't just a flimsy kiss, he was making out with you.. and you liked it. You didn't really understand what was happening and why the kiss kept on for so long, but fuck were you enjoying it.

Best believe his point was proven.

You enjoyed everything about it. The way his hands slid down your to your waist, and then to grip a handful of your ass. The way he kept pressing his body into yours. He was more than a good kisser, he was a fucking god at it.

Kisses peppering the back of your neck cause you to peel your eyes open, and that's when you realize it's mirae standing behind you. You can feel her clothed tits on your back as she does so, her soft hands hovering over jungkooks that still sit on your waist.

The realization of what's happening causes you to move your lips away from jungkooks, but he simply kisses you again before you can bother to utter a word.

You didn't know why, but the kisses from both of them convinced you to take off your shirt. Along with your pants, and then your panties, until you were completely naked for both of their eyes to see.

For a split second you wonder why mirae was so quick to join in and kiss on you as well, but you shake off the thought as quickly as it bubbles in your mind.

"Holy.." jungkook mutters, eyes concentrated on your full breasts. He takes it upon himself to bring his hands up to your chest, smiling as he cups your boobs in his warm hands. The feeling of your cold nipples against his palm made his dick even harder.

He's quick to undress himself after you, moving hastily to release his growing boner. Your eyes widen on their own at his length, all those times he boasted about his dick size clearly wasn't a joke.

"Surprised?" he asked, smirking at your reacting to the sight. You can hear mirae's hoarse laugh in your ears as she places her left hand on your shoulder, and her right hand at the base of jungkooks dick.

Her clothed chest is still pressed to your bare back, wanting to touch him but be close to you all at the same time. You liked the view you had, squished right in the middle of both of them as she reaches around you to jerk him off.

You don't realize how you've went to fondle your own clit, the sight so hot that you could no longer sit here untouched. Wetness leaks onto your thighs, making them all wet and sticky just how you loved it.

"For fucks sake..." he babbles to himself, groaning at the pressure of mirae's hand wrapped tight against his hard cock. Your finger's aggressively rubbing against your sensitive bud, already wanting to reach a orgasm even though this has only just started.

Jungkook notices and quickly takes action, grabbing a hold of your wrist to move it away from the area. "Patience." is all he says, and you oblige though the last thing you wanted was to wait.

Not when you were naked between the both of them like this.

You swore you weren't crushing on your friends, but it'd be a downright lie to say they were ugly- because they weren't. In fact, they were some of the hottest people you'd met.

You even used to have a crush on mirae in the 5th grade, but you'd never let her know that. It didn't matter anyway, you guys weren't even friends back then. Shit she barely even knew your name.

Mirae's roaming hands pull you out of your thoughts when you feel them on your waist, pulling you even closer to her as she sits down on the couch behind her.

Your bodies are warm and snug against each other as you lie between her thick thighs. She can't help but to slide her hands right under your breasts and grip them just to tease you.

It pulls a long moan out of you, leaning your head against her shoulder as she massages the tender blobs. Every few seconds she swipes her thumb over you nipple, aiming to get them nice and hard to her own liking. (Which she succeeds in.)

"Mm, she likes that." you feel mirae's breath on your ear, and you nod though she's speaking to jungkook and not you.

Your eyes flutter open and closed, realizing how much you enjoy being teased and played with ever so gently. Everytime your eyes open you can see jungkook massaging the length of him, his tip touching his happy trail from how hard he is.

He needed to be inside of you, immediately.

So he gets straight to it, leaning down to pull your hips to the very edge of the couch. Mirae understands what he's trying to do, and traces little shapes on the undersides of your thighs before pulling them up and out of his way.

"Needy?" he asks.

His voice makes you wanna cum all over him, and he hasn't even placed a finger on your cunt yet. You nod frantically, letting him know you want everything he has to give you.

Your cunts like a pretty piece of art, on display for both of their eyes to see. Mirae removes a hand from your thigh just to dip her fingers down there and get a feel for how wet you are.

She moans when she feels your slick stick to her fingers. "Pussy soaked isn't it?" she questions you in a teasing voice, bringing the wet hand back up to grip your thigh.

"Want me to eat you out? Huh?" jungkook asks, slapping his pre cum cover tipped on your swollen clit. "Please.." you beg, hips thrusting up everytime he pushes his tip against your clit.

He chuckles at your greediness, continuing to slide his length up and down your entire cunt. He and mirae both bite their lips, obsessed with the way your wetness begins to cover his dick- soaking it more everytime he slides against you.

"Looks like she's ready to fuck already." mirae declares, grabbing your chin with her thumb and index finger to get you to look up at her smirking face. "That what you want? Want him to fuck you?" she says, and you appease her by giving multiple quiet yes's.

She nods to jungkook as a gesture, letting go of your chin to hold your thighs again. Her right grip ensures your not going anywhere (not that you wanted to in the first place.)

That first little thrust inside gives you the confirmation this is exactly where you need to be, letting out a mewl at the pressure. Jungkook moves his tattooed hand to press against your lower belly, licking his lip at your reaction.

"Your squeezing the fuck out of me.. loosen up pretty." he was being so dirty, but somehow his words comforted you enough to make you stop gripping the living shit out of him.

He doesn't bother to give you a break, pushing the entirety of him inside of you with one go. He refused to waste any time, wanting your pussy wrapped around him as soon as possible.

"Feels so good.." you finally gather the courage to say a few words, and hearing you makes mirae smile. Her eyes are focused on the way your cunt swallows his length, proud of the way your taking it like a champ.

She can't resist and brings her hands to your breasts again, playing with your already sore nipples. The pressure of her fingers makes you squirm, but jungkooks quick to press his body closer to yours to make it harder for you to move.

He grinds his hips into you ever so passionately, not to rough- but it damn sure wasn't soft. You can hear the smack of his hips against yours very clearly over all the moaning going on, and it turns you on even more.

"Should've fucked you like this a long time ago." he mumbles, thrusting into you even harder. Your juices are leaking all over him, down your thighs and all over his cock.

Mirae takes the chance to sneak her hand between both of your bodies and down to your tender clit, massaging the bundle of nerves with just her pointer and middle finger.

"Fuck! Too much-" you whine, the feeling of jungkook inside you and mirae touching you like that was all overwhelming. Your whole body was tingling, even more in the lower region.

"You can take it, your so fucking pretty-" mirae's gentle voice coos near your ear, encouraging you to take it until the very end. Just until jungkook reaches his orgasms and cums deep inside of you.

Your breasts bounced up and down each time he pushes into you, free to move wherever they wanted without the confines of your bra.

Jungkook loves that shit, leaning down to take one of your nipples into his wet mouth. He groans around the bud, still thrusting into you as he swirls his tongue around the nipple before finally popping it out of his mouth.

"Gonna nut in you- give you my babies." he speaks mindlessly, not realizing what he's saying. Regardless he would, be cumming inside of you today- nothing would stop him from it.

And so he does, letting out a deep sigh as ropes of cum paint your walls. You reach your orgasm at the same time, and mirae even has to grab your wrists so you'll stop pushing jungkooks hips away from yours.

She wanted you to feel every ounce of pleasure.

When you finally calm down, jungkook pulls out of you and heads off to the bathroom to grab a towel.

Mirae gives you soft praise, sweeping your hair out of your face as you breathe heavily. You didn't put much thought into the fact these were your best friends that you just did this with, and you honestly didn't want to.

You enjoyed it, and so did they- that's all that mattered.

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A week passed, and you were utterly surprised that nothing had changed between your friend group. You all still talked every day, and even grew closer after the "situation."

Jungkook was at your place today matter of fact. He'd promised you days ago that he'd help you learn to cook his special pasta- & though he was a few days late, he kept his promise.

"This smells so good.." you say, taking a big inhale. Jungkok chuckles, stirring the alfredo sauce as he pours in a bit more cheese.

"Its almost done, patience." you nod, sitting down in the chair closest to the stove. He was so attractive while cooking, and you couldnt help but to stare at him as he moved around the kitchen.

This cooking lesson quickly turned from a lesson to a observation, but jungkook was okay with that. He was well aware that seeing that familiar smile on your face when eating his food was worth it even if he had to cook alone.

He rubs at his eyes as he switches the stove off, finally noticing your eyes on him when he turns to face you.

"What's wrong?" he asks, cocking his head as he walks up to your figure. The chair is tall enough for him to stand right between your thighs, face to face with you just how he liked it.

"Nothing, i just like looking at you." he grins at your corniness, your words making him feel all warm and happy inside.

He slides his cold hands up your thighs, a nice contrast to the warm air of the kitchen. "I want something." you whisper.

What a fucking tease, he thinks.

He was right obviously, you were being a tease. You added a little tinge of flirtiness to your voice in hopes that he'd get the hint. "Nope, No No No- the foods almost done."

Jungkook mentions, hurrying away from you in a fit of laughter before you can convince him to do anything. His reaction causes you to pout, hopping off of the chair and moving closer to him again.

"I didn't even do anything!" you protest, though you knew damn well what you wanted.

"I know what you want, your not getting it." he declares.

We'll see about that.

_________

Your empty plate sits to the side now as jungkook goes to work between your legs. His face is buried as far as possible into your cunt, nose nudging against your clit with every lick.

"Yes- just like that!" your voice is so needy, and it encourages him to press his tongue even farther into your hole. You prop a foot up onto the chair to give him more access, hand tangled in his fluffy hair to keep his head down there.

He looks up at your pleasured face for just a moment, pressing a gentle kiss against your belly and thigh before licking your folds again.

"Drippin' everywhere." he mutters, obsessed with the way your liquids leak down your thigh and cover his lips. You giggle at his commentary, butterflies growing in your tummy at his little dirty talk.

"Cmon, keep moaning for me- wanna hear it." he mumbles, and you can feel his lips on your pussy every time he utters w word. You like that though, obliging him and letting out quiet whimpers.

They weren't at all fake though, everything was a sincere reaction from the way he was eating your pussy like no tomorrow.

"I'm gonna cum!" right when you say that you feel his two slender fingers pushing into you- finger fucking you with no sign of stopping until you release.

"Cum on my fingers baby.. do it-" he's breathless from how he's had his face pressed between your thighs for the past ten minutes, eating you out as if his life depended on it.

He grunts when your cunt spasms around his fingers, cum leaking onto the chair as your orgasm washes over you. Your hips buck continuously, plastering a pleased smirk over jungkooks face.

"Come fuck me.." you say, still wishing for more even after you just came. You didn't care, you wanted him inside of you now- not later.

He nods, sitting up and quickly whipping his length out of sweats. You definitely notice that he's still soft, and even wonder if it was because of you.

Did eating you out not turn him on? You didn't know.

You watch quietly as he jerks himself off, trying to get himself hard on his own. Unfortunately it doesn't work, so you move to take his dick into your own hands.

You spend at least five minutes stroking him, and let out a disappointed sigh when he pulls your hands away from his dick. When he tucks himself back into his boxers, you take a hint and move away to slip your shirt back over your head.

"Y/n.." his voice trails off, and his face is more unreadable than ever. You shake your head, not wanting to get your feelings hurt by whatever he had to say.

You were sensitive, you could admit that. You'd rather go without an explanation than have him tell you to your face that you weren't turning him on.

(Though the way he was eating you out said different)

"It's just.. this doesn't feel right without mirae." he mutters, and your not sure what to say about that. Mirae happened to have work today, so she politely declined when you asked her to come over today as well.

Regardless neither of you were dating her, so why couldn't you do this without her? Yes, you all had a threesome- but you didn't think it was that serious.

"We're not dating.." you say with a little laugh, hoping to ease the awkwardness. To your demise, it only grows more awkward after you say that- jungkooks body language is a clear sign of how tense he felt.

"I think we should all have a talk." he says, sticking his hands into his pockets as he stares at you.

Well, you didn't know what that meant- but you sure didn't like the sound of it at all.

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TWO HOURS LATER:

Mirae had agreed to come over after work after jungkook texted her, and after a long two hours she was finally here. Both of them sit on the couch across from you, hands crossed as they sit there without a word.

Obviously you had to be the first one to speak, whatever.

"So?" you say, raising your eyebrows as you wait for them to say something. Clearly they had something to confess, and it didn't seem like anything good by the way jungkook sounded earlier.

"Uh-" mirae stops as soon as she starts- looking at jungkook for some sort of confirmation. It was annoying quite frankly- why couldn't they spit it out?

Jungkook shakes his head when he notices how you roll your eyes, and finally decides to speak up. "Me and mirae are dating, y/n."

What the fuck? That's the only think you can think, your jaw dropped almost to the floor. For one, you felt like shit because he was just giving you head earlier. And two, you felt stupid and betrayed for not knowing.

"Why didn't you tell me..?" you question, looking between both of them with a disappointed glare. They both let out a sigh at the same exact time, the coincidence would've made you laugh if your weren't so upset at the situation.

You weren't jealous, just angry. Angry that they hadn't told you this before.

"We...how do i say this.." mirae mumbles, twiddling her fingers as she try's her best to figure out how to word what she's trying to say.

"Spit it the fuck out." you say, finally cursing out of pure frustration. Usually, you weren't the kind of person to get angry and curse anyone out- but the way they were acting was forcing you to act that way.

Finally, jungkook says it.

"Fuck we want you in the relationship- We've been wanting it for a while now." the confession makes your heart drop to your ass. How were you supposed to feel about that?

How did they expect you to feel? Happy? No way.

"Since when?" is all you say, and they're silent for a moment before giving you a answer. "January, of last year." mirae replies.

Fuck that, it's september now. They've had over a year to tell you this bullshit.

Last weeks situation flashes through your mind. "So, last week. Was that a coincidence?" There's a defeaning silence, both of them quiet as they stare at the ground. Too pussy to look you in the face after an entire year of hiding this from you.

"We planned it." he finally admits, and you want to cry on the spot. You knew it was weird how mirae was so quick to join in, but you were just too in the moment to even question it.

You felt like a stupid pawn for their enjoyment, why couldn't they have just told you? Maybe they could've got a better reaction from you but this? This was no way to handle it.

"So you knew.. as soon as you got to my house what was going happen?" you ask, wanting to be sure that you heard this all right.

Your heart just sinks a little more when they both nod.

You begin to think about exactly what happened that day. The way mirae challenged jungkook to kiss you, the movie choice, the way she got behind you so quickly.

They'd planned it all.

"Can you go?" you say, trying to blink back the tears building in your eyes. Maybe you were being dramatic, or maybe not- but you just felt more betrayed than ever.

"Y/n.." mirae says, her voice trailing off. You can tell she's saddened, but she had no right to be. Not after what they did.

"Just get out of my house." you say, and though they don't want to- they respect your wishes. It doesn't take them long to gather their things and leave, the door slamming behind them.

As soon as they're gone you break down into tears, not wanting to believe what they'd just told you.

You knew you'd have to have a real conversation with them about this later on, but today- they weren't getting that out of you.

(requested by anon)

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