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#sorry for being a day late but rather late than never ;)

c-e-d-dreamer · 2 days

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Top Shelf Love: Prologue

A/N: So, if you know me, you know that I love hockey. But if there's one thing I don't love, it's hockey romances because they are always so inaccurate that it's take you out of the story SO QUICK! Like what do you mean the captain of this NCAA D1 team is undrafted? What do you mean she magically has access to an NHL locker-room in the middle of a game? So this is my response to that! A super self-indulgent Nessian Hockey AU. For additional hockey context: Cassian is a defenseman for the NY Rangers; Rhys is a center for the Montreal Canadiens; Az is a winger for the Nashville Predators; and Lucien is a winger for the Toronto Maple Leafs. Anyways! Hope everyone enjoys this prologue and this absolute meet-ugly! Happy final day of @nestaarcheronweek

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Next Part

Nesta

Nesta sighs softly, tilting her head back against the leather of the seat. Almost instantly, she scrunches her nose, the stale scent of cigarettes, of sweat and previous occupants, flooding her senses. Eager for a distraction, she peers out the window instead. The skyscrapers loom like shadowed giants on either side of the road, a cascade of colorful lights spilling from their windows and reflecting off the wet roads, the puddles from the earlier rain. Throngs of bodies move along the sidewalks, neither the late hour or the dark clouds still clinging above deterring them clearly.

The city that never sleeps indeed.

The cab jerks to a stop along the curb, the driver not even bothering to turn around and say anything to her, merely tapping the fare display. With a roll of her eyes, Nesta fishes her wallet out of her purse to pay before finally slipping out of the cab. At least the driver pulls her suitcase from the trunk, setting it on the sidewalk beside her.

“Nesta! You finally made it!”

It takes everything within Nesta to swallow back down another sigh, takes all her willpower to force at least a hint of a smile to tug across her face. She can feel her earlier annoyance still simmering just beneath her skin, can still feel the exhaustion weighing down her bones. She’d give anything to be back in her own bed right now, anything to slip beneath her pile of blankets and curl up with a good book, but she’s here for Feyre, here to celebrate her baby sister.

So Nesta rolls her shoulders and plasters on an even wider smile before she turns around. But she should have known better, should have known that despite the physical distance between them, there’s no fooling her sisters. From the way Feyre raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching up in the barest hint of an unimpressed smirk, it’s clear she sees straight through Nesta.

“Sorry,” Nesta winces, her shoulders drooping already. “Journey from hell.”

“Sounds like you need a drink,” Elain offers with an easy smile, stepping forward and taking the handle of Nesta’s suitcase.

“Or five,” Feyre adds with a chuckle.

Nesta rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t exactly disagree. A stiff drink definitely sounds appealing after the nightmare of the day she’s had.

“I saw online that a lot of flights were just straight canceled, so I think you’re lucky to have made it at all,” Elain comments, leading the way along the sidewalk.

“I don’t know that I’d call a six hour delay lucky,” Nesta grumbles, practically shuddering at the memory of being stuck sitting and waiting in an airport for so long.

Nesta follows her sisters inside the building, but they take the elevator down, rather than up, Elain leading the way toward a black SUV. She tells her sisters more about the horrible journey as they walk. About the surprisingly long line at security. About the storms in the midwest and the delays and havoc they wreaked on all flights. About the child that seemed determined to scream for the entire five hour flight.

Once Nesta’s bags are securely locked away in Elain’s car, they return to the elevator and take it all the way up to the eighteenth floor, the doors opening with a soft ding. There’s no stopping the way Nesta’s jaw slackens as she takes it all in. A large centerpiece extends from the floor and fans out into the ceiling, the lights embedded within it casting the entire bar and its occupants in glittering golds. Live music seems to be coming from somewhere, twining and molding with the laughter, the conversations, filling the space.

But it’s the windows that really draw Nesta’s attention. Floor to ceiling windows seem to line every wall, offering a truly panoramic view of all of New York City and the Hudson. It’s a picture perfect view of the twinkling lights and night sky through the rain droplets still clinging to the panes.

“Wow,” Nesta breathes, taking it all in. “This place is definitely nicer than I was expecting.”

“If you think this is nice, you should see their venue.”

It takes a few moments for Elain’s words to register, but then Nesta is snapping her head toward Feyre. “You have a venue already? Does that mean you’ve picked a date?”

“Yes,” Feyre answers, unable to bite back her grin. “Next summer. July specifically, after Rhys’s season has ended.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit optimistic to think he’ll still be playing through June?”

“Elain!” Feyre exclaims, reaching out to smack the middle Archeron in the arm. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What?” Elain shrugs innocently. “It’s true. I mean what’s their current record again?”

“Because the Leafs do so well when they choke every year?”

“At least they make the playoffs.”

Nesta snorts softly at her sisters’ bickering. “Since when did you become a sports fan anyways, Elain?”

“I guess Lucien’s been filling her with more than just his dick.”

“Feyre!” Elain squeaks out, her cheeks flooding with a blush.

“Darling,” a deep voice practically purrs, interrupting them. “There you are. I was wondering where my beautiful fiancée got off to.”

“Rhys, this is my oldest sister, Nesta,” Feyre offers, sidling up against Rhys’s side, her fiancé’s arm settling over her shoulders with comfortable ease.

“A pleasure to meet you at last,” Rhys greets, holding up the glass in his free hand in a mock cheers. The gesture is a bit sloppy, some of the amber liquid in the glass sloshing over the rim and spilling across his fingers, and Nesta realizes there’s a haze to his violet eyes.

“It’s an open bar,” Feyre mouths, clearly reading Nesta’s expression.

“You don’t have a drink in your hand,” Rhys suddenly says, as though he’s only just realized. “We need to fix that immediately.”

Rhys turns on his heel, pushing his way through the various guests gathered to celebrate him and Feyre without a care. Nesta rolls her eyes, but Feyre has a wide, soft smile on her face as she watches him go, eyes practically sparking with fondness. It’s clear this is the man that makes her youngest sister happy, so she can’t fault him too much.

“He’s right, you know. You do need a drink still,” Feyre says, looping her arm through Nesta’s.

Feyre leads the way toward the bar built around the large centerpiece. She leans over and gets the attention of one of the bartenders with ease, ordering what she tells Nesta is the couple's signature cocktail. It seems to be some sort of margarita, a deep blue in color with edible glitter that looks almost like stars swirling through the liquid.

“So…” Feyre starts, taking a sip of her own drink.

“So…?” Nesta echoes, although she has a strong suspicion she already knows where this conversation is going. She knows that expression on her sister’s face all too well.

“Rhys’s brothers are here tonight.”

“And you need to stop being such a busybody.”

Feyre sighs, turning so her hip leans against the bar, facing Nesta fully. “Why? I’m an excellent matchmaker. Just ask Elain…” Feyre looks over her shoulder, but frowns, turning in a full circle with her eyebrows pinched low. “Wait. Where did Elain go?”

“She and Lucien probably found some dark corner to fuck like the bunnies they are,” Nesta answers dryly. It’s certainly the trend with those two, vanishing for a few hours before appearing again with slightly mussed clothes and hair, pink often clinging to the apples of Elain’s cheeks and a wide, shit eating grin plastered across Lucien’s face.

“That just proves my point! At least tell me you stalked his Instagram or something.”

“Emerie and Gwyn did.”

Her best friends had been trying to convince her to get back out there for a month now. Even with how much time has passed since everything happened, it still feels strange. Of course, that hasn’t stopped Emerie from dragging her out to bars for trivia nights and karaoke as if they’re the best places to meet someone new. It hasn’t stopped Gwyn from trying to tempt her to start a dating profile on at least one of the plethora of app options.

It hasn’t stopped either of them from hyping her up after they spent so long helping Nesta to piece together the shattered fragments of herself, of her life, back together. It’s why Nesta loves them, why she doesn’t know what she’d do without them.

But when Feyre had suggested setting Nesta up with Rhys’s adopted brother, practically raving over the phone about what a good fit the two of them would be together, it had been like blood in the water for Emerie and Gwyn. Nesta had barely hung up with her sister by the time Gwyn had tracked down his social medias and had them displayed on the television ‘for the best viewing experience.’

Cassian Valdarez.

Any other emotions aside, Nesta can admit he’s attractive, that much was clear from the photos and videos on his Instagram. With his dark, curly hair tumbling down to his shoulders, his bright hazel eyes. He had been grinning widely in most of the photos, golden skin of his cheeks stretched and crinkles popping beside his eyes. But even the one where his lips were tugged up in a lopsided, cocksure smirk had Nesta staring.

Nesta had done a lot of staring.

Staring at the photo of him in sunglasses and shirtless, lounging casually on some sort of boat, wide shoulders and swirling lines of ink on full display. The photo of him in a locker room, dressed only from the waist down, showing off the tantalizing lines of his abs, his v-lines. The Reel of him working out, chest heaving and skin glistening, biceps bulging with every lift of the weights. The reel of him stick handling with just gloves, in a tank and shorts, the muscles and veins of his forearms working with each flick of his wrist.

“Okay, and?” Feyre’s voice draws Nesta back to the present.

“And what?”

“And what did Gwyn and Emerie think?”

Nesta sighs softly, fiddling with the stem of her glass. “I mean, they said I should go for it.”

“Ha!” Feyre exclaims, loud enough to draw the attention of a few others up at the bar. “See? I’m right. A perfect match.”

“Feyre, don’t you think—”

“Feyre, darling, I keep losing you.” Rhys slips into the space behind Feyre, wrapping an arm around her waist. He dips his head enough to press his lips to her neck before raising his gaze to peer at Nesta over Feyre’s shoulder. “Sorry. Do you mind if I steal my fiancée away for a moment?”

“Not at all,” Nesta assures him, but it’s Feyre’s gaze she meets. “I’ll be fine.”

Feyre and Rhys vanish into the crowds hand and hand, and Nesta settles at the bar, sipping her drink. Her eyes flit around, but she truly doesn’t know anyone here outside of her sisters. And despite her earlier words to Feyre, all the people, all the sounds and the lights, are starting to grate against her nerves, prickling and dragging along her skin like nails. Even downing the remains of her drink doesn’t seem to help, the alcohol only weighing heavy in her gut.

Leaving her now empty glass on the bartop, Nesta spins on her heel and stalks toward one of the walls of windows. She glances around at the different tables set up, the booths that line the windows and offer the perfect seats for the views beyond. Maybe she can find a dark corner to hide in for a few hours, or maybe, if she’s lucky, Elain and Lucien will decide they want to leave early to continue whatever they’ve started in an actual bed.

“Looking for me, sweetheart?”

The deep voice has a shiver skittering up Nesta’s spine, warm breath fanning across her ear. She spins around and comes face to face with a pair of hazel eyes, a cocksure smirk she’s only seen in photo-form before. Cassian Valdarez, in the flesh. He doesn’t even bother for subtly as his gaze rakes over her, and Nesta has to swallow hard as she tracks the way he licks his lips.

“And what if I wasn’t?” Nesta dares to ask, raising her chin.

Cassian chuckles, stepping closer into her space. “I think we both know you were looking for me. Why wouldn’t you be?”

Cassian’s hand reaches up in the space between them, snagging one of the stray strands of Nesta’s hair and twisting it around his fingers. Those same fingers skate down her neck, across her collarbones, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His touch traces over her shoulder and down her arm before finally closing around her wrist, Nesta’s breath hitching at the warm of his hand, the size of it, and she can do nothing but follow along as he tugs her toward one of the booths by the windows.

He lets go long enough to fall back against the cushions, for Nesta to settle beside him, but then his hands are right back on her. This time, his palm slides against the skin above her knee, fingers teasing along the hem of her dress. His other arm stretches along the back of the booth, all but curling around her shoulders as he leans into her.

“You look gorgeous in this dress, you know.”

“But let me guess, it would look better on your bedroom floor?”

“You said it, not me, but I don’t disagree.”

Nesta snorts quietly, tempted to tell him that it was wrinkled when she yanked it out of her suitcase before she awkwardly changed into it in the airport bathroom. But she never gets the chance to. Cassian lifts his hand until his fingers curl around her jaw, tilting her chin up enough that he can slot their lips firmly together.

The kiss takes Nesta by surprise, but it doesn’t take her long to respond. She moves her lips against his, Cassian’s grip on her chin holding her exactly where he wants her. When his tongue slips into her mouth, she moans softly, fisting a hand into the front of his shirt to keep herself steady and to keep him close.

Cassian pulls back just enough that he can murmur, “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Right now?” Nesta blurts out before she can stop herself. She’s certainly not opposed to the idea, but with tonight being the first time they’re meeting, she thought he might want to get to know her more first. What exactly did Feyre tell him about her?

“You know what they say. No time like the present.”

“I should probably tell my sister I’m leaving then.”

Cassian’s eyes seem to glint, even beneath the low light of the bar. “Is your sister here? Does she want to join?”

Nesta is sure that she must have misheard him. “What?”

“It could be fun. Two sisters, one hockey player,” Cassian says easily, even daring to wink at her. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Nesta can do nothing but gape at him, her mind reeling with this turn in conversation, but then it hits her like a ton of bricks. “You don’t know who I am.”

Cassian chuckles again, that cocksure smirk of his never slipping for a moment. “Am I supposed to know who you are?”

“Do you even know my name?” Nesta snaps, pulling further away from him.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that, sweetheart. All that really matters is you knowing my name so you can scream it tonight.”

“You didn’t even want to ask for it before you kissed me? You don’t even want to ask for it now?”

“Look. We both know what you came here for, what you puck bunnies are always looking for, and trust me, sweetheart. I am more than happy to give it,” Cassian offers, the way his eyes dance over her frame again nothing short of a leer. It stokes the anger flaring in Nesta’s veins higher, until it burns bright and hot.

“Wow,” Nesta scoffs, pushing up to her feet. “Fuck you.”

Nesta doesn’t even wait to hear whatever sputtering response he might give before she turns on her heel and stalks away from Cassian, pushing through bodies to put as much distance between them as she can. She’s never felt more stupid, can’t believe that she allowed Feyre to convince her that Cassian was some great guy, that the two of them would be some perfect match.

She can’t believe that she had started to believe her sister’s words, that that damned hope had started to bloom and put down roots in the gaps between her ribs.

Because of course. Of course, Cassian is just like every other guy, only thinking with the head between his legs without a single care for what happens once the sun rises. He’s exactly what Nesta expects from a professional athlete, cocky and sure of himself, expecting every girl to fall at his feet ready to worship him and suck his dick.

She finds Elain and Lucien in one of the other booths near the opposite side of windows. Elain has her legs draped across Lucien’s lap, giggling around the straw of her drink. Lucien seems to be smirking through whatever story he’s telling, his arm stretched across the back of the booth, fingers toying aimlessly with the soft brown curls of Elain’s hair.

“Can we go?” Nesta interrupts, looking between the two.

Elain blinks a few times, but then she starts nodding her head. “Of course. You’ve already had such a long day.”

Elain pushes up and to her feet, wobbling just slightly in her heels, but Lucien is there right behind her, his hands spanning across her waist to steady her. She smiles over her shoulder up at him before turning her attention to her purse, rooting around with a frown.

“Wait. Where are the keys?”

“I have them, my love,” Lucien answers, holding up the keys dangling from his fingers. He turns his attention to Nesta, offering her a wink. “Don’t worry. She’s not driving.”

Lucien slides his hand into Elain’s, leading all three of them through the party and back toward the elevators. Nesta keeps her head down as she follows behind her sister and brother-in-law, and she certainly doesn’t bother to look back. Besides, it’s not like anyone is watching her. She’s quite confident a certain hockey player has already found some other poor, unsuspecting girl to capture his attention.

And as they take the elevators all the way down to the parking garage and back to the car, she vows to herself that she’ll never think of Cassian Valdarez ever again.

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies

#NestaWeek2024 #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #hockey cassian #top shelf love #my fic

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inaconstantstateofchange · 2 days

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binggeyuan modern!AU based on this prompt where shen yuan and luo binghe live in the same apartment building, but have never met each other. SY is more-or-less his regular shut-in self, and keeps very odd hours, which means that he happens to be wide awake the first time LBH gets back to the apartment building at 3 a.m. after some manner of illicit activity and realizes he doesn't have his fucking entrance key. LBH hits one apartment number after another into the intercom, fully prepared to dazzle his way into getting one of them to open the door for him, but the intercom is old, and people come and go from this building often enough that most people don't bother getting it set up, and he's having no luck.

finally, just as he's about to give up and bully his way onto mobei-jun or sha hualing's couch for the night, someone picks up. he doesn't even remember which specific apartment number it was, he was just entering them mechanically. immediately, LBH pulls on his smoothest affect (sure the intercom has no video, only shitty, garbled audio, but that's no reason to let the universe catch you slipping) and prepares to give the sob story performance of his life. before he can even get a single word out, however, there's a crackly, almost indiscernible "Open!" and he hears the click of the entrance door unlocking before the intercom call is ended. he stares at the intercom for a minute, somewhat wrong-footed, but then shakes himself out of it in time to catch the door before it locks again.

SY, for his part, was broken out of a binge-reading spiral by the intercom call, and fully did not realize how late it had gotten. he assumed he had ordered something that was arriving earlier than expected, and kept an ear out for a knock on his front door from the delivery person for a few minutes, but then got sucked back into the target of his current literary criticism.

the next time LBH gets locked out, he starts in the general number range he remembers striking on the last time, and pays closer attention to the numbers this time. he's curious if his little philanthropist will be so accommodating again. SY orders a lot of packages, okay! the one time he didn't pick up the intercom he had to wait an extra three days for his ultra-rare, limited edition merch, which he will not be going through again. this time, though, when the intercom picks up, LBH is prepared. he starts talking immediately, playing up his stress at being locked out, how sorry he is to be a bother, and how much he really, really appreciates it. SY fully blue screens at this unanticipated display of emotions, blurts something out about how it's not problem and of course he's happy to help out a neighbor in need, then hangs up (after unlocking the entrance, of course). it is perhaps fortunate that the intercom has no video, and thus he can not see the look on LBH's face.

LBH gets more and more consistent pushy with his calls, curious how far this little philanthropist will go for him. he knows his apartment number, of course, he could just knock and introduce himself, but he'd rather let him come to him. LBH starts interjecting little questions here and there, trying to glean any information about his mysterious benefactor. SY, meanwhile, is lighting a daily candle for this poor little bun somewhere in his building, who has truly the worst luck in the entire world! who ever heard of a gang of pickpockets stealing someone's keys not once, but twice in the same week!

LBH gets comfortable with the state of things — as ever, too comfortable. nothing good can last forever. one night, after a long and utterly shitty day, for the first time in ages, he loses his key for real. he's tried to avoid reaching out to SY at any time when he's not 100% in control of himself, but there's nothing for it. he punches in the numbers for the unit he knows by heart at this point, and when it picks up, he sighs tiredly, and waits for SY to speak first. after a moment of silence, the call drops, and the door remains locked. LBH is almost shaken entirely out of his malaise. not even a word? he puts SY's apartment number in again, but this time it doesn't even pick up. he stares at the intercom in unpleasant shock for a few minutes, then punches the wall next to it and leaves. he spends the night on mobei-jun's uncomfortably small couch, staring unseeing at the ceiling above him. at least the other man doesn't ask him any questions.

their easy rapport broken, SY starts to worry when he hasn't heard from his unfortunate little neighbor — maybe he's moved out? hopefully to a place with a more accommodating security system... after a full week, his worry ramps up even higher. he wants to believe his neighbor just found a system to keep track of his keys that works for him, but statistically, it seems unlikely. feeling like the most awkward, overstepping idiot on the planet, he scribbles off a few short notes, and sticks one by the the intercom, one by the mailboxes, and one in the laundry room. his neighbor will have to go at least one of those places, certainly?

to my keyless neighbor - hope you're well! i was worried- if you ever need me, you know where to reach me. you weren't a bother- - XX4

the next time LBH stops by the apartment (he's been avoiding it by couch-hopping as much as possible, to the great aggravation of his friends) he carefully avoids looking at the intercom. as such, it's actually sha hualing who spots the note first. (she bullied her way into an invite to make LBH actually go home.) she crows out a harsh laugh, snatching the note off the wall and holding it up dramatically, cackling about "rom-com shit". LBH isn't really paying attention, until he catches a glimpse of the apartment number at the bottom. eyes flashing, he snatches the note out of her hand, and reads it over once, and then again. after a moment, he turns to sha hualing, and tells her to go home, that he's got plans, actually. she gapes at him for a moment, then scoffs and turns on her heel, flipping him off as she goes. whatever! she didn't want to babysit his mopey ass any longer anyway!

LBH spends a few frozen moments running over his options, torn between calling right now just to see if his philanthropist will pick up this time, and giving himself a chance to freshen up, and maybe make a good enough showing for himself that whatever it was that caused him to be ignored before will never happen again. ultimately, he decides on the latter, but rushes through all his preparations as much as he can while maintaining sufficient attention to detail. he wishes he had the materials to make something truly spectacular, but his apartment is showing his absence over the past week. he settles on a meal that just barely feels sufficient, and finds himself more anxious than he can remember being in years at this point, staring at his philanthropist's apartment door, two levels below his.

he raises his fist to knock, tentatively at first, too quiet to hear, and then once more, louder. a muffled voice comes through the door, and a few moments later, it cracks open to reveal a man just a bit shorter than him, with a rumpled shirt that looks like it has just been haphazardly thrown on and hair that might not have been brushed in days. he's... really cute.

LBH and SY just kind of stare at each other, frozen, for a bit, until LBH proffers the food he's brought, and SY's archaic etiquette subroutines kick in, and he invites LBH in before he can even think about. his immediate wince makes it clear he had not meant to do that, but LBH is not above making a situation work to his advantage, and graciously accepts, stepping into the somewhat cluttered apartment before SY can recover from his slip-up. they still have not exchanged names.

ultimately, they get themselves figured out. LBH introduces himself, and SY follows suit. there's a beat of silence as they both realize that this does not actually clear up anything about how they know each other. LBH finds the words to explain his own part in this are slow to come, so he finally just hands the note, neatly folded, to SY. SY's face colors, but he overcomes it to fussily poke at LBH about how worried he was, when the other just disappeared! LBH stops for a second, hearing that, then slowly responds that it was SY who cut him off first. SY gapes at him, then demands to know when he did a thing like that! he set his intercom call sound to caramelldansen and max volume so he'd be sure not to miss it!

LBH gives him the date, and SY flushes again, then looks away, muttering something unflattering about a "qingge". LBH feels a wash of jealousy, that he's misread the situation and SY is already spoken for, but SY goes on to explain that he had been stuck overnight at the hospital - for nothing major! pretty routine actually! - and the friend that was staying with him must have picked up, then hung up when he couldn't figure out who was calling.

LBH sits back, somewhat at a loss. so it... wasn't because SY was tired of him? SY sputters, waving his hands about. absolutely not! he might be slightly forgetful, but binghe is clearly a wonderful young man and it's not like SY has much else going on in his life!

LBH determines to himself then and there that the only way to ensure such a thing does not happen again is to make sure that he is the one staying with SY the next time he's in the hospital.

#gods this got SO MUCH LONGER THAN I ANTICIPATED #anyway i like this prompt a lot it has a lot of flexibility #and yes lbh starts very bingge but then gets passively bingmei-ified #svsss #bingyuan #binggeyuan #shen yuan #luo binghe #luo bingge #svsss au #svsss fic #my writing #writing prompt

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psychesalcove · 7 hours

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WE WANNA TALK ABOUT SEX BUT WE'RE NOT ALLOWED

college au!percy jackson x fem!reader

⚠️: reader has anxiety, percy being too obvious for his own good, shitty writing (im sorry guys 😭), mentions of sex, cursing, emotional cheating (on percys end), not proofread at all, mentions of an anxiety attack, insecure reader

IN WHICH: you and percy have been dating for around a year. however, you feel like he is always choosing annabeth over you, even if he isn't aware of it. tonight, you decided to confront him about it, ending the night not knowing where your relationship stands with him.

requested: yes, by anon

a/n: GUYS IM SO SORRY IM KIKE NOT GOOD AT WRITING ANGST BUT I TRIES 😭😭 JUST MESSAGW ME ABAIN AND ILL REWRITE IT IN A DIFFERENT WAY BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!😔

you knew this talk had to happen at some point. it was inevitable. there was this unspoken tension between you and percy, and you weren't even sure if he was aware of it. for a while, you thought it was just your anxiety driven brain making you feel the tension—but you soon realized it was there and not made up.

percy and you had been dating for around a year, beggening right before your freshman year of college started. before that, percy had been in a relationship with annabeth. you were on neutral terms with her;you weren't best friends, but you also didn't hate eachother. but lately, that feeling of neutrality with her was slipping away.

you knew percy and her were close, but you didn't understand why they were as close as they were. you knew percy would never cheat, but you figured he didn't understand not being there for his partner.

anytime you wanted to be around him, he would say that annabeth needed him for something. reviewing notes for class, wanting help with decorating her condo, helping her with a new recipe she was doing, anything really.

at first, you didn't mind that much. you knew they weren't sleeping with eachother or anything, but as time went on, going into the last quarter of the school year, you knew that he would go back to annabeth sooner rather than later. his mind was always occupied with her, somehow managing to bring her up in every conversation you have with him.

ᝰ

you sat on the beige couch that you and percy had bought at Ikea last summer, looking out to the balcony area, waiting for percy to arrive. as much as you didn't want to talk to him about this, you knew the longer you put it off the harder the talk would be. you assumed he would be getting back in around 5 minutes, knowing the route he takes in his car to get to the condo from campus.

suddenly the old wooden door creaked open, disturbing the silence that blanketed the room. you sighed lightly, still wondering how to even start a conversation with percy.

percy soon came into vision, dropping his jansport backpack onto the floor before turning to you. "hi, pretty," he hummed. "how was your day?"

you decided to ease into a normal conversation between the two of you before asking the inevitable question that could determine the future of your relationship. "it was fine, english has been kicking my ass recently though, how about you?" you asked, moving around so you were in a more comfortable position.

"it was also fine, but if your having trouble with english, i could ask annabeth—" you cut him off with a sigh, knowing that was your que to steer the conversation in another direction.

"could you sit down percy, please?" you say, making eye contact with him for the first time since he came home. "we really need to talk,"

"uhm.. yeah of course" he says looking around the room quickly before sitting down on the sofa. "if this is about those mint cookies, i did eat them, didn't mean to though, promise." he explains quickly, looking at you with a small smile.

you press your lips into a thin line, knowing how different of a conversation this is going to be than that. "percy, where do you see our relationship going?"

there it is. the idea is out there, in the open, for percy to do anything with.

you watch his eyes widen slightly, looking at you with a questioning look. "what do you mean? i mean, obviously we're going to keep living together, maybe get a better place for next year, we could even make our new kitchen like annabeths–"

"there you go again talking about annabeth!" you said, raising your voice slightly. "i know that the two of you are friends, and i'm fine with that, but not if it's getting in the way of our relationship. almost every conversation you bring her up:annabeth this annabeth that. i know you two are exs, and again, i'm fine with that, but that also means you could have romantiic feelings about her still. i really don't think we should even be doing this if you do, percy."

he sat up straighter at the tone of your voice and what you said to him. "why would i still have feelings for a annabeth? that's why we chose to end our relationship, because neither of us had feelings for eachother!" he exclaimed, attempting to keep a calm voice.

"percy, i really just don't think you're in the mental place to be in a relationship with me, or maybe anyone right now. i don't know what to do—"

percy cut you off, "what do you mean you don't know what to do? i'm the one being told by my girlfriend of a year that she doesn't know if she wants to continue our relationship!" he sat up from the couch and started motioning with his hands. "I'm the one that doesn't know what to do. it's not like i'm going around and having sex with annabeth. you know i wouldn't do that to you!"

"there are other ways of cheating than that percy, and im not saying your cheating on me, I'm just saying that your mind is still on annabeth, which means I don't know if we should be a thing or not." you said. "and honestly, with the reaction your having, i wouldn't be surprised if you were cheating." you also sat up from the couch and moved to stand by him.

"i understand that, but like i said, i'm not going over there to have sex with her or kiss her or anything like that. all im doing is spending time with her, can i not chose who i spend my time with now?" percy spat at you, giving you a look that made you know he was starting to get pissed off.

"that's the problem percy! your spending time with her, which would be okay, if you weren't canceling on me, your girlfriend!" you said, continuing to raise your voice.

he scoffed at you. "name one time that i cancel—"

"last week, when we were supposed to go the cafe to study for an exam together. i was waiting for you at the door when you were grabbing your backpack, and then you come up to me and say that you can't go because annabeth had finished reviewing your notes. and, for some reason, you had to go to hers that moment to get your notes instead of saying that you could later and go to the cafe, with your girlfriend!" you rambled, getting more mad remembering the memory.

you saw a small flash of guilt in percys eyes, but you didn't let him speak. "every single week percy! its the same fucking thing! you cancle last minute to go to annabeth, even dates you've canceled. and i know that your not sleeping with her or anything, but you're still putting her first instead of me. and that hurts. it really hurts." your voice became softer, cracking when you finished speaking.

your eyes filled with tears, and you started blinking rapidly to keep them at bay. "so yeah, percy, that's why i'm wondering what's going to be our relationship in the future. because right now, i'm not seeing one at all."

you shook your head as you saw his mouth open, still wanting to talk and get through to him. "i love you, so, so much. and it hurts, knowing that i'll always be out second to annabeth. if you want to continue our relationship, you're really going to have to change, percy. and i don't know if you're willing to do that for me." your tears starting openly falling down your face, your brain thinking of what it'll be like to not have percy in your life.

you saw percys mouth open, so you quickly looked down, knowing whatever he was going to say will make you go over the edge and into an anxiety attack. "...why didn't you tell me you felt like that?" he asked with a soft tone to his voice. you shook your had again, knowing you didn't fully get through to him.

"if you were feeling like that, you could have told me and i would have stopped," percy explained, opening his arms to hug you.

you quickly stepped back, not wanting to touch him. "you know what percy? i shouldn't have even had to talk to you about it, because it shouldn't have been a problem. i would have talked to you about it sooner, but i knew it was going to go the way this is going." you said as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

"your not understanding what you did wrong, just saying that i should have done something. which i should have, but i was to nervous, i know that you're too good foe me, gods, i get reminded every single day! so i didn't bring it up to you because i knew that i could've lost you by talking about this!" you let out your first sob as you finished, now thinking of how your going to have to move all your stuff out and stay at your friends condo until you can find a new one.

"hey—hey, let's have you calm down first before we talk. i promise I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to," he said, attempting to make eye contact before you looked down again.

"can, can you just leave? just for a while, please? I–I need to think and it's just really hard being around you right now." you said through your sobs, feeling guilty of practically kicking percy out of his own home, even if just for a while.

you didn't hear what he said, but you watched through your blurred vision as he walked away twords the front hall, heard him grab his keys, and then heard the door close behind him. you quickly walked into your shared bedroom, taking a seat on the edge of your queen size bed.

you look over at percys nightstand, seeing a framed picture of the two of you on your 6th month anniversary. then, your eyes quickly go to a polaroid in front of the framed picture. you sobs grew louder as you grabbed the framed picture and threw it out of anger, sending glass shards across the carpeted floor.

the polaroid was of percy and annabeth, sitting at the campfire back at camp half blood, both having matching smiles on their faces.

you could never compete with annabeth, even in the form of a picture.

#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy pjo #percy jackson x you #pjo x you #pjo x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x reader angst #percy jackson x you angst

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chuluoyi · 4 months

Text

LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"

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yanderenightmare · 6 months

Text

JJK x curse ! darling

TW: NSFW, yandere, kidnapping, captive darling, degredation

fem reader

Can’t stop thinking about all the little vulnerable curse ! darlings that exist and how easily they fall prey to the merciless Jujutsu Sorcerers that go hunting them down for pleasure.

Geto Suguru x The Curse of Virginity

Doe-eyed, chubby-cheeked and makeup-free. She's always chewing her lip nervously. Spawned from all the sweet, silly virgins out there who're afraid of having their virginity robbed.

Though always so fucking wet for it at the same time that it’s embarrassing.

Geto got lucky and swallowed her up before anyone else could get a taste. Keeping her in his bedroom. He kisses her cheeks while fucking her into a moaning, squealing little mess every night. Making sure all her sweet little virgin fantasies are met and satisfied.

Gojo Satoru x The Curse of Beauty

A defiant little brat who thinks her beauty will enslave any and all men who dare look at her. Cold and dismissive, she never lets anyone touch her – because, in her mind, she’s a goddess no one’s worthy of having or holding.

But Gojo scoops her up and keeps her locked up in his place like a pet cat. Smiling at her awfully condescendingly when she warns him not to lay his filthy hands on her.

She'll hiss at him, backing up with eyes going wide under the crushing realization that a pretty face stands little chance paralleled with a real force of strength. Understanding with a hitch in her throat how she better start using her looks to please rather than upset him.

Fushiguro Toji x The curse of Insecurity

The cutest little crybaby who thinks every aspect of her is unappealing and gross. She’s always trying to hide her tear-streaked face, making herself as small as she can by curling herself into a ball, hoping no one’s able to notice her.

Toji just grins his devil-grin with her doughy thighs spread around his hips – keeping her wrists pinned above her head so she can’t do anything but whimper out small denials when he gruffs out how fucking adorable she is, thinking she can keep herself away from him.

Nanami Kento x The curse of Shame

Born from the guilt of every shameful nympho who can’t help but feel so awfully filthy after indulging in their dark desires.

She's always naked and needy – quaking with heat and dewy from the fever of it – rubbing her thighs closed with such a sorry expression it would make any man rush to comfort her.

Nanami takes good care of her, though. The poor thing. She can’t go a single day without getting her wet little pussy pounded – always coming to him with her coy eyes and sultry whines, riding the thick muscles on his thigh with such a terribly needy pout on her lips. Begging him to make it okay, to sanction her so she needn’t feel so awfully sinful as she cums while still whimpering for his cock like a needy wonton little slut.

Zenin Naoya x The curse of misogyny

Born from all the chauvinistic self-indulgent thoughts men have of what a perfect woman should be – having resulted in the most plaint sweetest little thing – one who only feels comfortable when she's either welcoming her man home, cock-warming him during dinner or when he's rearranging her guts into the late night.

She's the happiest little bride with Naoya. Smiling nicely and humming while he lists all his troubles after coming home in a foul mood like always – she'll play with his hair until he leans into the touch with a moan, possessively tugging her closer – palming her soft skin with a pouty scowl on his face. She'll kiss his chin and tell him how grateful she is for everything he goes through, and it's exactly what he needs to hear – beginning to brush his lips over her skin, undressing her while she continues soothing him with her devotion – telling him she'd be lost without him, that he should take whatever he wants from her as a reward for working so hard, that he deserves it for being so good to her, that he's the strongest and smartest and greatest man in the whole world, and that she'll never ever want to be or do anything but serve him until the day she dies.

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ham-st4r · 7 months

Text

WRONG DOINGS L. HS

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: heeseung + fem reader!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, male masturbation, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral, male and female receiving, squirting, stepdad step daughter relationship, daddy kink, car sex, make up sex, mentions of stealing and cheating, home wrecking, infidelity, divorce, crying, abuse, violence, arguments, mentions of blood, cursing, bullying, reader kinda has daddy issues, heeseung gets caught masturbating by reader.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: stepcest, taboo relationship, slow burn.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After your mom got married to your stepdad heeseung, you both finally moved into his mansion together. There, you’ll face the same cruelty from your mother that you always have endless abuse and belittling. Still, when heeseung tries to treat you like his own and get closer to you, it only makes things worse not just for you but him as well, and one too many arguments with your mother leave you and heeseung both wanting more so much more than when she goes on vacation and leaves you both alone, it’s only a matter of time before the both of you commence in 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐𝟖,𝟐𝟓𝟒𝐤

Sorry for the long wait. Thanks for being patient with me. I’m very disappointed with how this turned out, but I hope you guys will enjoy it

"Mom, can you help me with my homework?" You ask your mom meekly as you sit at the dinner table in the kitchen.

You had been struggling with your homework lately, and all you wanted was a little help and attention.

But she couldn't even give that much to you.

"No, absolutely not. No one helped me with mine, and I'm not going to be your crutch. Just stop being so lazy and pay attention." The harsh response was very much expected, but it never hurt any less.

You held your head low and picked at the corners of your notebook, sighing softly.

The relationship between you and your mother was never good, but you still tried to have some type of interaction with her cause you just wanted her love. You wanted her to care no matter how bad she treated you.

"Y/n," heeseung, your stepfather, called to you softly, but you sat up and went to your room. You hadn't exactly gotten a chance to get close to him yet, and you didn't want to be around a complete stranger while you felt like this. "I still don't understand why you find it necessary to talk to her like that," heeseung said to his wife once you got out of earshot.

"And I still don't understand why you're talking to me. You're not even her real father, so what does it have to do with you?" She gives him a stern look from across the dining table.

"Thank you for reminding me of that every two seconds." heeseung chuckled and took a drink of his orange juice. "Baby, I'm not trying to make you upset. I'm just not sure the way you handle things is best for our daughter," he continues.

"Again, she is my daughter, not yours. The way I handle things has zero to do with you," she responds.

Heeseung just sighed and kept his mouth shut after that.

Lately, he had been rethinking his whole marriage because the woman he proposed to was seemingly nowhere to be found.

As bad as that sounds, it was just an undeniable fact.

It was like overnight, his life turned completely upside down.

One minute, he's married to his dream girl, and the next, he's feeling stuck in an unhappy marriage with a stepdaughter who doesn't acknowledge him and a wife that rather be out all day than spend time with him on his days off.

"Where are you going?" He asked his wife as he watched her getting up from the kitchen table.

"Out," she answered without looking at him.

"Okay, where's out?" Heeseung stood up and made his way over to her in the living room.

"There's a new fashion outlet that opened downtown, and I want to check it out," she replies, sounding uninterested.

"Ooh, sounds like fun, can I come with? I'm free all day." he wrapped his hands around her waist from behind.

"No, I already planned to invite others." his grip on her waist loosened as he looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"Without even telling me?" He dropped his hands to his sides.

"Sorry, it must have slipped my mind." She quickly put her heels on and grabbed her purse by the front door. "Besides, it's all women's clothing anyways," she adds.

Heeseung sighed and folded his arms, watching his girl leave the house for what felt like the fifth time this week. "It's okay," he replies back, even though it really wasn't. "Can I at least get a kiss before you go?" He says with a smile.

She quickly rushes over and kisses his cheek. Before he could even say anything, she was already bolting out the door. "Be safe," he says to himself, going back to the kitchen and finishing his cold breakfast all alone.

You sat on your bed and stared at the sheets in front of you blankly. You had zero motivation to even get started on your homework after the way your mother spoke to you.

You're not sure if you'd ever be able to get rid of the hurt in your chest whenever she talked down to you, even after all these years.

You wiped your tears when you heard a soft knock on your bedroom door. "Y/n, can I come in?" You listen to your stepfather's voice from outside your room.

You straightened out your things a bit before allowing him to enter. "Come in," you said in a weak voice.

"Hey," he whispered with a half smile. "Would you like some help?" He offered while shutting the door.

"Uhh, no, I'm fine." You looked at all the untouched materials in front of you, and you were everything but fine.

"Oh, okay." heeseung turned around disappointedly and grabbed the door handle, but your voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Wait." You looked down at your lap and nervously fidgeted with your blankets. "I need help," you admitted to him.

He gave you a warm smile and made his way over to your bed, taking a seat. "Thank you for allowing me to help. I know it's been hard for you adjusting and everything with the new place and living with a total stranger." he laughed, and you smiled a little as the awkwardness between you two started to lessen just a tad. "But I just want you to know that you can come to me too, not just your mom. I'm perfectly friendly, I think?" He scratched his nape and chuckled.

"Okay," you nodded.

"And about earlier, I apolo-" you interrupted him.

"I don't want to talk about it," You quickly dismissed the said topic, and he puffed out a breath of air as his shoulders slumped down a bit.

You understand he was just trying to help, but you didn't need another dad or an apology right now, especially from someone who wasn't even to blame and even more so the fact he had no idea what had even been going on between you and your mother.

He didn't know about all the times she hit you for getting a low grade. He didn't know how she'd keep you up all night until you finished all the chores around the house, and he definitely didn't know that all this was going on behind his back when he left for work.

If he did, you're sure he wouldn't even be married to your mom, let alone welcome her into his lovely mansion of a home, cause from what you could tell, heeseung was far too kind for a woman like her.

"Okay, so let's see what we have he- oh," he chuckles at all the work you have piled up.

You lower your head down in embarrassment while he flips through all your disheveled homework.

"Don't worry, we'll have this done by midnight, and you won't have to worry your little head anymore." he ruffled your hair playfully.

You scrunch up your face and fix your hair while he laughs at you.

The clock had just struck midnight, and as promised, it was all finished. To your surprise, you got through half of it without his help. Honestly, you weren’t dumb when it came to school, so you didn’t really need a lot of help. You just wanted someone to take interest in you. "Thanks for all your help," you whisper shyly.

"Of course, if you ever need help with homework or anything in general, just let me know." he smiles softly at you and takes a look at his watch. "Are you hungry? We've been at it for quite some time now."

"A little," your stomach growls on cue, causing you both to laugh.

"There's a pizza spot down the road that stays open late. Does that sound good?" He offers, and you nod.

"I'd cook for you, but I'd probably burn the mansion down, and we can't have that happening," he laughed.

You both jumped in surprise when the door swung open, revealing your witch of a mother. Of course, she'd have to ruin the one decent interaction that you've had in years. "What is this?" She pointed back and forth between you and heeseung.

"I was just helping y/n with her homework, babe," heeseung sighed. He was already sleepy, and he didn't want to deal with her attitude right now.

"Helping? She doesn't need help. She can do it herself!" She yells at heeseung.

You lowered your head to hide the tears welling in your eyes, and what made it worse was that heeseung was being brought into your drama when he was completely innocent. "She shouldn't have to!" Heeseung yelled back. He was far more frustrated with his situation with his wife lately than the problem at hand, but he used this as an opportunity to lash out a bit. "Y/n, come on." he turned to you with a sympathetic look in his eyes, talking to you with a much calmer tone as he extended his hand out for you to take.

You stood up, reaching your hand out for his, but your mother's loud voice caused you to sit right back down.

"You!" she pointed at heeseung. "Get out! This is between me and her." heeseung looked at you, and you nodded your head weakly cause you weren't his problem to take on.

He didn't want to, but he honored your wish and left out of your room, going upstairs to wash up for the night and head to bed.

He knew he wasn't your biological father, but what was the harm in him just wanting to treat you decently?

His wife always had to go and blow everything out of proportion, making it seem like just cause he wasn't your real father, he couldn't look after you.

He thought it was ridiculous.

But maybe there was something he didn't know about going on between you. Maybe it was something that he had no business sticking his nose in.

He put his toothbrush away and patted his face dry. Once he was all finished, he turned off the bathroom light and went over to his side of the bed, trying to get some much-needed rest.

"So you try to seduce my husband behind my back? I always knew you were nothing but a little slut” your mother said with venom laced in her tone.

"No mo-" you tried to defend yourself to no avail.

"Be quiet." She walked over to your closet, pulling out a coat hanger, and locked the door to your bedroom.

You tried to hide under your blankets, but she quickly yanked them down to your ankles and whipped your bare legs repeatedly with the hanger, adding fresh welts to your already bruised skin.

You had to cup your mouth to muffle your screams and cries so you wouldn't alert heeseung to what was happening to you behind his back.

"Maybe this will teach you not to be such a fucking useless disrespectful whore” tears streamed down your cheeks from the pain she inflicted on you. "I didn't raise you like this." Her face was twisted in nothing but anger as she hit you countless times before finally putting an end to the abuse.

"Think twice before you try touching what's mine." You sobbed quietly and pulled your blankets over your head as she laughed at your poor state and left you crying alone in your room. You had no idea why she was accusing you of something you didn't even do.

She left you alone and went upstairs, joining heeseung in the bedroom, laying down beside him like nothing ever happened. "I didn't mean to make you mad, baby," she whispered softly as she held onto his waist. She kissed the back of his neck and tried to trail her hand to the front of his boxers, but he quickly gripped her wrist and stopped her from doing so.

"I forgive you, but I'm just not in the mood right now." he turned over to face her and pulled her into his chest, kissing her forehead softly. "Y/n's okay?" He asked while stroking her back.

"Yeah, I apologized," she flat-out lied.

"There's my girl," he smiled. "I'm proud of you, baby. I know things are difficult for us right now, but try not to get too stressed. I'm sorry too, okay? We still just have to adjust to some things."

"Okay," she muttered back and discreetly rolled her eyes.

"Goodnight, baby," he whispered after a couple of minutes.

"Night," she murmured.

When you woke up the next day, you immediately winced in pain.

You tried to move the covers back, but you couldn't cause they were stuck to your legs from all the dried-up blood. Normally, you would have tried to bandage yourself up, but you didn't have the willpower to last night after everything occurred.

You slowly peeled the blanket back as tears gathered in your eyes from the pain.

You let out a shaky breath once you had finally removed the material.

Tears leaked down your cheeks as you saw the wounds. You could barely even stand up without pain, but you managed to somehow.

You went to the bathroom and grabbed your first aid kit, cleaning off all the dried-up blood.

Once the blood was gone, you applied some ointment and gauze, praying that the cuts wouldn't get infected this time around like before.

You got ready for school and waited in bed until it was time to leave.

"Is y/n coming down for breakfast?" Heeseung inquired to his wife, remembering you didn't get to eat last night, so you must have still been pretty hungry.

She just shrugged her shoulders and finished making her iced coffee.

Heeseung sighed and went upstairs to check on you himself. He knocked softly just in case you might still be asleep since you both stayed up so late last night. “Y/n?” He called your name quietly.

When he didn't get a response, he peeked his head inside the door and saw you still sleeping. He smiled pitifully and closed the door before going back downstairs, only to see his wife all dressed up and ready to head out.

"Let me guess out?" He said half-jokingly, half serious. "Come here and give me a kiss before you leave." She walked over to him and pecked his cheek like usual. "That's not a real kiss. I mean one like this." he smiled and gripped her backside in his palms, groping the soft flesh as he stuck his tongue inside her mouth and kissed her eagerly. It's been months since the last time he had sex with her, and his neediness for her was definitely showing in the heated kiss. "Like that," he pulled back with a small smirk on his lips. "Come back soon so I can give you a little surprise" he bit his lip and spanked her ass.

"Yes, Mr. Lee," she said flirtatiously and winked at him before releasing herself from his hold and going out the door.

Needless to say, heeseung couldn't wait til tonight.

He was standing in the living room, a smile still lingering on his face, when you came downstairs. He whipped his head in your direction when he heard your footsteps. "Morning! You scared me," he laughed.

You forced a smile and tried your best not to limp downstairs. The last thing you wanted was to raise any suspicion.

"Your mom just left, but I could pick you up something for breakfast since you're probably still hungry from last night." You knew it was just a polite offer from him, but the mention of last night made you flinch in horror, and the worried look that took over your face was hard not to miss.

"N-no thanks," you declined.

"Do you at least want a ride?" You just shook your head and limped to the front door. "Y/n, Is everything alright?" He asked you worriedly. You weren't like this at all last night, so what changed so drastically? As far as he knew, You guys apologized and made up.

You didn't respond back and walked out the door, leaving him standing in the middle of the living room, confused.

You had gotten home from another terrible day at school, which was nothing new to you just like everything else in your life.

You opened the door with your house key. Once you got inside, you saw heeseung lying on the couch asleep while some random TV show was on.

You twisted the knob and shut the door quietly while slipping your shoes off.

After you hung up your backpack, you went over to the kitchen to make something to eat since you hadn't eaten all day.

You collected all the ingredients from the refrigerator to make a proper meal for yourself.

As you were preparing the vegetables, you decided to cut extra in case heeseung was hungry when he woke up. You felt bad about the way you treated him this morning, especially cause it wasn't even his fault, so the least you could do was make him a meal as an apology.

You quietly moved around in the kitchen so you wouldn't wake him, and after about thirty minutes, everything was ready. You turned off the stove and put away some extras in a glass container, setting it on the table where heeseung usually sits before going to your room to eat. You never liked eating at the table. It always brought back too many memories that you wished you could forget.

It was midnight when Heeseung finally woke up. He stretched out on the sofa as his eyes wandered to the big wall clock above the TV. "Damn," he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

All the lights were off, so he assumed everyone was already asleep.

He went to the kitchen to grab some water from the fridge but halted when his eyes landed on the container of food you had prepared for him. "Ooh," he opened the lid, scanning all the different foods inside, and his mouth watered instantly.

He grabbed his water from the fridge and sat down at his spot before grabbing the fork placed neatly beside the container. "Thank you, baby." he smiled happily and dug into his food, and he was not disappointed at all. He hasn't had a good home-cooked meal for a while, and this definitely hit the spot.

He wasn't complaining about not having food when he came home from work cause he knew that his wife was busy with her own things, but he couldn't deny he'd love it if he had a meal cooked by his wife more than just a few times a month.

He ate every last morsel, not letting anything go to waste. After he finished dinner, he washed the container and put it inside the dish rack.

He headed upstairs to wash up before going to sleep. After washing his face and brushing his teeth, he removed his pants and t-shirt, slipping into bed next to his beautiful wife. "Thank you for dinner, baby." he draped his arm around his wife's waist and kissed the crown of her head. "Goodnight," he whispers while shutting his eyes and falling asleep a little while later.

Heeseung had gotten up earlier than usual since he slept all day yesterday. He pulled his sheets back and stepped out of bed, going straight to the bathroom and taking a quick shower to get freshened up and ready for work.

He sighed as he tucked his dress shirt into his pants. Those two days off weren't quite enough after all the hours he's been putting in lately, but luckily, he had some vacation time, and he planned on putting it to good use very soon.

He kissed his wife on the cheek before shutting the door behind him quietly so he wouldn't wake his sleeping beauty.

You jumped slightly when you heard footsteps coming downstairs, but you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that it was only heeseung and not your mom.

"Oh! Good morning, y/n!" Heeseung smiled widely, and he was surprised to see you up this early.

"Morning," you reply and turn back to the stove to finish your meal. You had a few leftover ingredients from last night, so you decided to just take it for lunch at school today.

"Smells good," he chimed as he caught a whiff of whatever you were cooking. After a few moments, it dawned on him that the smell was very similar to the food he had the night prior, and his eyebrows creased in confusion once you set down the plate of food. "Did you… Did you cook last night?"

"Yes," you answered quietly, hoping he wasn't going to say that it was bad or something like that.

"Hmm," he nodded to himself as he realized that it wasn't his wife who cooked and that it was you all along, which left him greatly disappointed, but either way, it was still good, and he appreciated you for it. "It was delicious, thank you."

"You're welcome." You gave him a small smile.

He walked near you, reaching into the cabinet to grab a bag of ground coffee. "So, how's school been?" He asked while making his cup of coffee.

"Good," you said simply.

"Just remember, if you need any help, you can always come to me," he assured you.

You nodded your head while getting your food ready for school.

"Leaving so soon?" He questioned while rolling up his suit jacket sleeve and checking the time.

The truth is you just didn't want to face your mother after the other night, so if that meant waking up hours earlier than her and going to school early, then that's what you were going to do to avoid her at all costs.

"You know what, I'm up early. You're up early, so why don't you let me drive you?" He says while pouring his piping hot coffee into a travel mug.

"It's fine." he didn't listen and just grabbed his keys from the hook so he could drive you to school.

He knew you and your mother were not on great terms as of late, but he wanted to take it upon himself to be of some type of assistance to you cause he could obviously see that you weren't feeling all that well lately and what type of person would he have to be to just sit on the sidelines and watch someone go through something like that alone?

"Come on!" He held the front door open for you.

Needless to say, the whole car ride was dead silent. It wasn't that you didn't want to talk to him. It was just weird because he was basically a whole stranger driving you to school.

He put on some music to make the silence less awkward. He occasionally hummed along while tapping the steering wheel.

After maybe eight minutes, give or take, you two arrived. He pulled right up to the curb, unlocking your door so you could get out.

"See you later. Have fun!" He gave you a small wave while you thanked him for dropping you.

There was still at least half an hour before he had work, so he stopped to grab some breakfast for himself.

He dialed his wife's number and frowned. When the call went to voicemail, he assumed she was probably still asleep.

So he texted her instead.

Heeseung: Morning, baby! I miss you :(

He took a picture of the lousy breakfast sandwich he got. The bread was limp, the bacon was undercooked, and the egg tasted fake.

He chuckled and sent it to his wife.

Heeseung: Not even close to being as good as the one you make.

After the second bite, he didn't even bother finishing it, and he opened up the text messages with his wife again.

Heeseung: I'm missing you so bad right now, and it's not even afternoon. Baby, call me when you get this.

He put his phone in the passenger seat and drove out of the restaurant parking lot, heading to work.

School was unbearable like it always was, but you were just thankful that it was finally over with. You went upstairs and changed out of your old bandages. Luckily, nothing was infected, but it still looked like it'd take a little while to heal.

You changed into some comfortable clothes and lay down in bed. You would have cried, but you had no more tears left to cry.

The cycle had been going on for so long that you grew accustomed to it. It was just another part of your tiresome routine.

You tucked yourself inside your blanket and sighed deeply before shutting your eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Heeseung was in the middle of working when he got a text from his wife.

Best wife in the whole world💍: Can't wait for you to get home.

She attached a photo of her in a lacy black outfit with the straps pulled down but not enough to show too much.

He bit his lip when he saw the photo and quickly replied.

Heeseung: My wife looks so sexy😍

Best wife in the whole world💍: Hurry home soon.

Heeseung: You got it, baby. I'm gonna see if I can get out early tonight just for you😉

She left his text on read, and he shut his phone off so he could focus back on his work.

Five hours passed quicker than he expected, and he did get his work finished in time so he could leave a little sooner.

Heeseung: On my way, baby. I can't wait to see you.

He texted on his way to his car. He unlocked the door and put on his seat belt, heading home after another stressful day of work.

"Baby!" He called out while he loosened his tie and slipped his shoes off at the door.

He went to the kitchen, setting his suitcase on the table and hanging his jacket on the back of the chair. "Baby?" He called while walking upstairs and opened his bedroom door. "Baby, I'm ho-" he stopped mid-sentence when he saw that she was already fast asleep. "Are you kidding me?" He whined as he closed the door and went back downstairs. "So much for that idea," he sighed as he went to the kitchen to make some ramen for himself. Since it was still early, he decided to watch some TV until he felt sleepy.

You stirred in your sleep and rolled over on your bed, opening your eyes to see your alarm clock that read half past midnight.

You turned on your back and sighed while staring at the ceiling. You knew you shouldn't be eating this late, but you felt extremely hungry cause, after all, you did only eat one time today.

You went downstairs to make a midnight snack. Once you reached the end of the stairs, you noticed the lights were off, but the TV was still on. Your eyes traveled to the couch, where you saw heeseung lying down fast asleep.

With a tiny shake of your head, you went to the refrigerator, grabbing an apple, taking a bite while going to the living room, and turning off the TV before draping a blanket over heeseung's exhausted-looking body.

You went back to bed and finished your apple. There wasn't much to do other than a little more homework, and when that was all finished, you curled back up in your bed and went back to sleep for the night.

This same boring pattern repeated itself. Your mom was always out of the house spending heeseung's money that she stole from him right under his nose. heeseung would go to work, come home late, and go to sleep on the sofa while you went to school, did homework, and went to sleep.

Heeseung was currently sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for his wife to come down.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat when he heard yelling upstairs. He started to go up there, but he already knew what the outcome would be. "She's not your daughter. You don't know what's best for her, blah blah blah."

After a couple of minutes, the yelling had quieted down, and he cleared his throat as his wife came down the stairs. "Is y/n having breakfast with us?" He asked while scrolling through some emails on his phone.

"No," he set his phone aside and looked at his wife.

"Why not?" No matter what was going on between you and your mother, you still made it a point to come down for breakfast every morning, so you skipping these past few days was unusual to him.

"Cause she didn't clean and she barely did any homework, she doesn't deserve a meal," his wife stated, seemingly unbothered.

"Baby…" he sighed. "Don't you think you're being unreasonable here? I understand where you're coming from, but what you're doing is a bit too much."

"Too much?" She scoffed. "What would you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, I already know I'm not her real dad," he said, annoyed, but he didn't have to be a parent to know that what was happening was not right.

"Excuse you? Who do you think you're talking to like that?" She responds, and he can tell from her tone that she was starting to get annoyed, too.

"I didn't mean it like that, oka-" he tried to explain himself but got interrupted.

"No, I think that's exactly how you meant it." She tossed her dishcloth on the table. "You're taking her side over mine."

"I never said anything about sides. You're getting me all wrong here. All I'm saying is to go easy on her," he reasoned calmly. The last thing he wanted was to argue this early in the morning.

"She's already a lost cause. Going easy on her would make her completely useless," she says, unrelenting with her hateful words towards you.

Heeseung's face morphed in absolute disgust at the distasteful words coming from his wife's mouth. How could someone talk about their own daughter that way? He wasn't even your real dad, and he would never talk about you like that to anyone, let alone his significant other. "Well, I'm sure if you just helped her out here and there, it might not be that way," he said dryly.

"So you're saying this is my fault?" She twisted his words once again.

"You're putting words into my mouth. What I'm saying is maybe try helping her out a bit, that's all." he put his hands up in defense.

"No one ever helped me, and I turned out perfectly fine.” She just comes up with excuse after excuse.

"Really? First of all, she's not you, and all I've ever seen was her politely asking for your help. She's trying, but when you shut her down and tell her that she's useless, how do you think she's going to feel? I sure know I wouldn't be motivated by that" if the conversation kept going in this direction. It was only a matter of time before things got out of hand.

"You really must be dumb to think that way," she mumbles under her breath.

"What did you just say to me?" He stood up from his chair and walked over to where she was standing.

She stood up straight and stared him in the face, repeating her words. "I said you must be du-"

"Do not dare say that to me again. You're under my roof, and I've never once said one thing disrespectful to you." he looked at her with a cold stare in his eyes. "Now I'm done having this conversation with you. Go get y/n, and I don't want to hear another word from you."

Her eyes shook in fear as he made his way back to his chair, and she scampered upstairs to tell you that breakfast would be ready soon.

You came downstairs a few minutes later and sat at the table per your mother's request. You picked your fork up timidly, and heeseung didn't miss the way your hands shook when you lifted the fork to your lips.

He sighed and glared at his wife, shaking his head in disapproval. "So, y/n, how are you doing with school? Do you have any homework you need help with?"

Your mother scoffed and rolled her eyes, and you just stayed silent.

Heeseung patted your shoulder, encouraging you to speak. Your eyes flickered over to your mom, and she was already looking at you with an evil glare.

You quickly shook heeseung's hand off your shoulder. "I-it's fine, I-I'm fine," you stuttered nervously.

"Y/n, will you excuse us?" Heeseung asked you, and you nodded your head timidly. "Babe, I need to have a word with you upstairs." he sat up from his seat and walked upstairs with his wife following soon after.

"You mind telling me what the hell is going on?" Heeseung asked as he leaned against the wall with his arms folded.

"Nothing to concern yourself wi-"

"That's bullshit, and you know it!" Heeseung cut her off.

You were still at the table when you heard heeseung yelling from upstairs. You flinched and wrapped your arms around your body attempting to somewhat comfort yourself.

"She's afraid to even come downstairs. She was literally shaking at the table. What the fuck did you say to her?" He asked as he felt his anger rising.

"I didn't say anything," his wife replied carelessly.

"So she's just been avoiding you for no reason. Is that what you're telling me?" He says losing his temper.

"I'll tell you the reason it's cause she doesn't want to be responsible. She fails all her tests, her room is filthy, and she doesn't take care of anything around the house," she continues with her same old reasoning.

Heeseung sighed in frustration. "At this point, I don't know what to tell you cause everything I say is going in one ear and out the other."

"I understand what you're saying perfectly fine you're taking that bitches side over mine!" she shouts.

"Don't call her that again!" His voice was so loud it easily overpowered hers.

You covered your ears and ran upstairs, locking yourself in your room and hiding under your covers. It felt like deja vu all over again when your mom and dad used to fight. Even though your dad left you and they were divorced, it felt like you were in that same situation all over again.

Heeseung instantly regretted getting loud like that, and when he saw the scared look on his wife's face, he quickly apologized. "Babe, I'm sorry." he walked closer to her and wrapped his arms around her shaking body. "Shh, please don't cry, baby. I'm so sorry." he rubbed her back softly as she encircled her arms around his waist. "Look at me, sweetheart." he gripped her chin with his thumb and index finger tilting her head up so he could look into her watery eyes. "I won't ever lash out on you like that again, okay?" He used his thumb to swipe the tears off her cheeks.

"Okay," she whispers softly.

"Let's just try to get along from now on, yeah?" He pecked her lips, and she nodded her head. "I'm sorry," he pouted. "I'm a big fat jerk, aren't I?" He said to lighten the mood and got a small chuckle from her in response.

"You are," she smiles, knowing her little victim tactic was working on him.

"But I'm your big fat jerk." he smiled and backed her up until she reached the bed frame and laid her down on the bed gently. "Let me make it up to you, yeah?" he whispered and got down on his knees.

"Wait," she sat up on the bed and held his hands.

"What is it, baby?" He gave her a concerned look and rubbed small circles on her thighs.

"It's late. I have to get going." She made an excuse like she always did, just so she didn't have to do anything with him.

"Baby…." He sighed disappointingly as she got up from the bed. "You have to be kidding me." he stood up with a clear look of annoyance on his face.

"Sorry, love, but I have to go, or else I'll be late." She kissed his cheek before leaving the bedroom.

He flopped down on the mattress and sighed. “Bye,” he muttered to himself.

Maybe he was overthinking things, but he was starting to feel a bit undesirable. He hadn't had sex with his wife since the wedding, and that was months ago. He didn't want to ever think this way, but he couldn't help it, and he was starting to think he didn't know how to please his woman anymore.

Before the wedding, it was multiple times a week, and he wasn't always the only one initiating either. If anything, she initiated more than he did, but after getting married, his love life seemed nonexistent.

It's almost like the wedding was what made his life complicated. Everything was completely fine before, but now there seemed to be so many other things to account for, and maybe it was his fault for not preparing to have two more people living under his roof, but either way, things had been taking a toll on him lately.

He ran his fingers through his hair and got out of bed, figuring he should probably go check on you after his outburst earlier.

“Y/n?” He knocked on your door softly, waiting for you to answer.

"Y-yeah?" You stuttered, still a bit shaken from what happened earlier.

"I'm sorry about earlier. Can I come in?" He rested his forehead on the door when you didn't respond. He sighed before opening it, and he felt terrible when he saw you balled up under the blankets.

He invited himself in and sat down at the foot of your bed. "Your mom left a little while ago, but I want to apologize on her behalf and for what I did earlier." You instantly felt relieved when you found out that your mom was gone, but it'd take a while for you to get over what just occurred. "We patched things up, so don't worry, okay?"

He patted your shoulder before getting up from your bed and walking to the door. "I took the day off from work, so if you need anything, I'll be here." he gave you a half smile and left you alone just in case you wanted some time to yourself.

He went back to his room and took off his work clothes, after calling in, stripping down to nothing but his underwear before lying down on the bed.

Deciding to kill some time he scrolled through his phone for a while. And after that got boring, he turned it off opting to read a book instead.

Some hours had passed since heeseung came to check on you, and you were feeling a lot better. You were glad to know that he and your mom were able to talk things out cause you wouldn't be able to take getting yelled at by your mom and having to hear her yell at him, too.

You looked to your left, and it was the same old story a stack of homework needed to be done, but since heeseung was willing to help you, you decided to take him up on his offer if he was still awake that is.

Heeseung sighed as he set the book he was reading aside. He was bored out of his mind. You were mad at him, and his wife was gone, and there was nothing else to do.

But there was actually one thing he could do since he finally did have some alone time. He wasn't going to let it go to waste. Besides, he was stressed, and he needed some relief cause his wife wasn't doing it for him.

A feeling of guilt rose in his chest for getting off without his wife, but he couldn't wait any longer cause she had been putting him off for months now.

He placed his hand over his crotch and pressed down gently, hissing from the sensitivity when he felt himself shiver from the slight touch. He realized just how long it’s been since he last masturbated.

Shimmying out of his boxers, he revealed his soft cock squeezing his base and working his hand lower until he reached the tip. "Fuck” he breathed out as he swirled his palm around the head of his cock softly.

Reaching inside his bedside drawer he pulled out a bottle of lotion, pumping a few squirts in his hand, rubbing it up and down, coating his thick length.

"Mmm, that's so good" he tilted his head to the side slightly and pursed his lips as he watched his dick getting harder with every stroke.

He pumped his length faster, groaning quietly as sticky sounds filled up his quiet bedroom.

He licked the pad of his index finger and placed it on his left nipple, rubbing it in small circles. “Just like that” he bucked his hips up and fucked his cock into his fist.

He swallowed thickly, forehead damp with sweat already as he circled the tip with his thumb and index finger, jerking his cock faster and faster. “Oh shit,” he moaned, slowing his pace, panting as he edged himself and biting on his lip while squeezing his balls with his left hand.

His hips jerked upward, and he couldn’t resist the urge to fuck into his palm faster. He brought his hand up to his mouth and spit on it, smearing the sticky substance all over his full sack. “Oh my fucking god,” he breathed out shakily. “Fuck me” he kept going and going until the feeling of arousal in the pit of his stomach was seconds away from bursting.

You went down the hall quietly and decided to just peek inside his door in case he was asleep cause you didn’t want to bother him with your problems. “Fuck fuck fuck” you heard as soon as you opened his door. You gasped at the sight before your eyes, covering your mouth as you stood there frozen in the doorway.

“Y/n?” He looked at you wide-eyed, confused and panicked when he saw you standing in the doorway. By the time he noticed you, it was far too late, and he couldn’t stop himself from cumming long white spurts of cum. “Mmh fuck!” he whimpered at the feeling, his abdomen tightening as he tried to grab his blankets and cover up the rest of his release.

You watched as thick ropes of cum shot out of his pink tip, and that must have brought you back to reality cause you ran back to your room, clutching your heart while trying to catch your breath.

Heeseung rested his head against the backboard of his bed, panting loudly. “Fuck” he knew he really screwed up by not locking the door, but he thought you’d be asleep by now.

He had an internal debate with himself about whether he should go and talk to you or just leave it be, but he supposed he should get it over with while it was still fresh cause the longer he avoided it, the more awkward it would be, and he didn’t want you dodging him because you had caught him touching himself.

He got out of bed and went to the bathroom, putting a clean rag underneath the faucet and running warm water on it to wipe his shaft clean before changing into a new pair of boxers and shorts, along with a shirt.

He prayed that he didn’t scar you with that image, and not to say it’d make it any better, but the fact you came in right as he was cumming was like the worst-case scenario.

“That’s so embarrassing,” he facepalmed and knocked on your door.

You sat on your bed replaying that image of your stepdad over and over again, seemingly not being able to get the sight of his cock out of your mind, and you felt so terrible cause you think deep down there was a part of you that actually enjoyed seeing him like that.

The more you thought about it, the louder the words your mother called you rang in your head, and maybe she was right about you. Maybe you were just a slut cause what kind of step daughter would look at her stepdad in a sexual way.

You buried your face in your hands but quickly sat up straight when the knock on your door brought you back to reality. “Y/n, about what happened just now, I’m uhh, I’m really sorry,” he scratched the tip of his nose uncomfortably while standing in your doorway.

You did your utmost best to hide the flustered look on your face. You understood why he was apologizing, but he didn’t need to cause to you there was nothing to apologize for, at least not to you anyway. “It’s okay,” you smiled at him shyly.

“So, did you need me for something?” He asked and clears his throat, hoping to gloss over the whole situation entirely.

You nodded and showed him your homework. He was thankful that you still even wanted to be around him after what you saw, and he was more than willing to help you out.

“Okay, let’s get started then.” he sat next to you like the other night, but something about the way his knee was brushing your thigh made a little something stir inside you.

You could hardly focus on what he was teaching you cause you were too busy staring at his body. You could see his hard nipples peeking through his white t-shirt, and your eyes flashed to his smooth-looking thighs. His shorts had ridden up a bit, revealing the flesh to your eyes.

“Are you getting the hang of it a little better now?” He asked once he finished explaining, and you shook your head back and forth as he just smiled and dropped his head in defeat. “Well, it’s getting late. Would you like to pick this up tomorrow night after I get home from work?”

“Sure,” you agreed with a small smile. “Goodnight, heeseung,” you whispered shyly.

He turned around and looked at you with a pleasant smile on his face. “Goodnight, y/n. Get some rest, okay?” You nodded, and he closed your door, going back inside his room to an empty bed, but he wasn’t expecting any less. He took off his shorts and laid down on the bed, falling asleep as soon as his head hit his pillow.

“Wow, it’s only eleven, and we’re already done,” heeseung smiled at you. He had just gotten off of work and was helping you with your homework like he promised you last night. “I’m proud of you, kiddo.” he patted your head like you were a little kid, and you pouted. “Now, next week, I want you to finish at least half, and I’ll do the other half deal?”

“Only if you stay a little longer,” you said and inched closer to him. To your luck, he didn’t seem to notice.

“Why?” He asked to his knowledge all your work was done.

“Just help me organize a little,” you said sheepishly.

“Fine, okay, but promise me you’ll clean your room after? It looks like a tornado came by,” he laughed.

“Stop,” you giggled and pushed his shoulder.

He smiled at the simple interaction between the two of you, feeling happy that you were finally opening up to him and accepting him in your life.

“Fine, I’ll be quiet.” he put his hands up in defense while laughing softly.

After you were both done organizing all the mess, heeseung’s phone vibrated in his pocket. “Hey baby,” he answers the phone while holding up his finger for you to give him a minute. “Not for another hour?” he frowned. “Okay, I’ll see you later, love,” he hung up the phone. “That was your mom. She said she won’t be back until later, so…” he said sadly. He knew she was busy working on her own things, but the constant coming home late for the past few months was getting to be quite annoying to him.

The time he had with his wife was basically nothing. He was starting to feel lonely every single day and night. The only thing that kinda cheered him up was coming home and getting closer to you, but that didn’t make up for all the lost time with his lover.

You noticed his sad expression, and you felt bad cause you knew exactly how he was feeling. One thing you knew about your mother was every day after work, she went out to drink, leaving you sad and alone, before she met heeseung, she hooked up with men at the bar, and you’re sure she is still doing that to this very day cause nothing about her has changed, not even after getting married to a guy like heeseung.

She was a lost cause ever since the day you’ve known her. Maybe that’s why your real dad divorced her, but you can’t say you thought very highly of him because he left you all alone with her.

While heeseung was sulking at her absence, she was probably wasted and in the passenger seat of some random guy's car. That’s just the type of girl your mom was, sadly.

You still don’t understand how she managed to get a guy like heeseung, so far from what you’ve seen. He was sweet, caring, and thoughtful. You hadn’t known him for long, but he seemed like a good man.

And you knew it would probably crush him if he found out that she was stealing money from his drawer behind his back and talking about him to her friends. You didn’t have the heart to tell him either besides, it wasn’t your business to get into. “I’m actually not feeling too well.” he left your room quietly with his head hung low.

Since he was always trying to cheer you up, you decided to return the favor since he liked the dinner you made for him the other day you were going to cook for him. You knew he always ate out most of the time, and that wasn’t nurturing for a hard-working man like himself.

You left your room and knocked on his door. “Hey, I’m gonna go out for a while, just so you know,” you informed him.

“Want me to drive you? I don’t mind,” he suggests.

“Nope, I’m good.” You politely refuse his offer cause you just wanted him to have a break.

“Oh,” he sighed, feeling even more useless than he usually does. “Be safe, yeah?”

“I will!” You smiled and shut his door.

“I guess I’m not needed by anyone,” he mutters to himself, and he can’t help but overthink things about his relationship and marriage with his wife. Things had just been progressively going downhill, and he didn’t even know why. “Whatever.” he rubbed his eyes and laid back on his bed. There was nothing else to do, so he decided he might as well get some rest for work tomorrow.

About an hour later, he unfortunately woke up from his nap and went downstairs to see you in the kitchen. “Mom not home yet?” He asks as he sat down at the kitchen table.

You shook your head back and forth, and you were getting slightly annoyed by him talking about her all day. “I cooked dinner for you since she’s not here to do it for you,” you added to show him that you could be there for him when she wasn’t.

“Wow, okay!” He laughed. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” he said once you placed the plate down in front of him.

You bit your lip to hide your satisfied smile. “I’m glad.” You poured him a glass of water and sat it down next to his plate.

“Thank you,” he grinned before digging into the food you cooked for him. “Mmm, it’s good.” he nodded his head approvingly as he piled up his fork with another big bite.

“You’re welcome.” You walked behind his chair and placed your hands on his big shoulders, giving him a small massage.

“Oh,” he chuckled airily. “What did I do to deserve this king treatment?” He asked with an amused tone.

“Oh, nothing. You’re just always doing things for me, so I decided to return the favor.” You used the pads of your thumbs to massage out the tension in his neck.

“It’s nothing for me, really, so you don’t need to,” he assures.

“But I want to,” you whisper and place your hands lower on his back.

“Mmm, that feels so good,” he sighed in relief as his eyes fell shut.

“Yeah?” You applied more pressure, and he groaned when you hit an extra sore spot.

“Yeah, it does feel good.” he leaned forward in his chair so you could reach further down his back. It’s been a really, really long time since he’s gotten a massage, and your hands worked wonders on him. “Really good”

Once you got done with his back, you trailed your hands around his waist and up his wide chest, massaging his hard pecs.

Though what you were doing felt good, it was a bit awkward for him, and it didn’t feel quite right. “Umm, aren’t you gonna eat?” He asked you. “I mean, your food will probably get cold, so you should eat.” he cleared his throat as you sat down at the table. “Thanks again for this.” he smiled at you, but you didn’t look at him because of the way he basically told you off.

You ate in silence, and once you were done, you went to your room and left him at the table, confused once again by your ever-changing behavior towards him.

After that initial strangeness on your end, you and heeseung started to get along better despite your little mood changes whenever he brought up your mom. You knew he was married to her, but she didn’t act like his wife nor service him the way you did, so why wasn’t he looking at you? You did everything and more for him, but you still weren’t getting the affection from him that you craved.

You wanted him to praise you for doing your homework and tell you you did a good job when you cleaned, but he merely thanked you and went on about his day. You knew it was irrational to want him to feel the same way you felt about him for you.

But you couldn’t help it, and you chalked it up to having a terrible childhood. You didn’t get love from your parents, and you always got bullied at school, so when the first person started showing you any ounce of decency, you wanted more and more, and you were willing to do whatever it took to make heeseung notice your efforts.

And since your mom was going on vacation today, this would be the perfect time to make your move.

“Why do you never tell me about these things?!” Heeseung shouted at his wife angrily. “All you do is run out of the house. You barely tell me what you’re doing, and you ignore me all the time.” So much for not lashing out again, but after weeks of his wife’s absence, could he even be at fault for getting angry anymore?

“Baby, I know it’s sudden, but it was for me too, okay? I’ll tell you everything next time. I promise I’ll let you know all my schedules a week in advance,” she told him calmly.

Truth be told, she didn’t have any schedules. Her “schedules” were simply hanging out with friends or strange men til ungodly hours of the night.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I know, I know. I’m sorry for yelling again.” he frowned. “I’m just so stressed with work, and when I get home, you’re gone, baby. I’ve just been missing you so bad lately.” he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, savoring the last moment with her until she left for a whole week. “Just make sure to answer my calls, okay? And don’t leave me on read. You know I hate that more than anything,” he chuckled.

“I promise I will.” he pecked her lips softly.

“Don’t go,” he whined. “Wouldn’t it look better attending your event with a charming rich husband hanging off your arm?” He laughed.

“Right.” She rolled her eyes playfully and laughed. “Plus, you have work.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” he cupped her cheeks in his hands and pressed one long kiss to her lips. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I know, baby, me too, but I have to go.” She pried his arms off of her waist and grabbed her bags.

“Let me help you.” he tried to grab the suitcase, but she took it from him.

“Thanks, babe, but I have it, okay?” She rushed out.

“Okay, have fun and be safe,” he rambled as she was making her way out the door. “I love you!” He shouted as the door shut. He walked over to the windows and watched her loading up the car and backing out of the driveway.

Sitting down on the bed, he let out a long sigh, something he’s noticed he’s been doing a lot recently. This was going to be one tough week without her.

Only two days had gone by, and heeseung felt like he was going to go crazy. It was already bad enough that he didn’t get to see her after work, but not seeing her at all or being able to cuddle at night was killing him.

What made it all worse was that she did the very thing he hated the most, leaving his messages on read and not answering his calls.

He wasn’t extremely clingy or needy, not to his knowledge anyway, but one thing that grinds his gears was being ignored, and his wife had been doing just that.

He went to his contacts before he could tap the call option. An incoming call from his wife showed up, and his face lit up. “Baby!” He answers the phone happily.

She didn’t genuinely call him cause she cared. She just wanted him to stop blowing up her phone, especially around company. “Hey babe”

“I miss you. I was just about to call you. How’s everything been?” He smiled faintly at the sound of her voice, and he felt relieved cause she actually made it a point to call him instead of waiting for him to initiate.

“It’s good, but I have to stay another week to finish some business,” she lied.

“You have to be kidding me? I can’t wait for you that long. I need to see you,” he said in a whiny tone.

“You will love, I promise. I have to come back for a few hours and pick up some things, so you’ll see me this week,” she cheers, but it couldn’t be more fake.

“Thank god, I feel like I’m going crazy without you,” he pouted.

“Aww, you’re such a lover, boy.” she put her phone on speaker and let her friends hear. They all knew her situation, and they just thought it was funny how heeseung let her use him so blindly.

“Yes, I am, but only for you, baby, you know that,” she muted the phone while she and her friends laughed hysterically at his sappy sayings. “Baby?” He asked when she didn’t answer. The phone was still connected, so he waited for her a bit.

“Of course, I know. I have to go now, see you next week bye,” she hung up.

“Bye, love,” the call ended quickly, and he smiled at the thought of seeing her this week. “Come home soon,” he said to himself and picked up the picture frame of him and his wife together on their wedding day.

Even though you had all this time alone with heeseung, he was always either at work or asleep, and when you asked him for help with your homework, he just told you he was too tired to help you out this week.

So, the whole week went by without you getting him to give you his undivided attention.

But that wasn’t enough to make you stop.

For the rest of the time that your mother was away, you washed, dried, and ironed his suits for him every morning. You made sure he went to work with a full stomach and a clean suit. You even went as far as to run him occasional baths so he could relax when he got home from work. “Thanks for the bath.” he came into the kitchen with a towel around his shoulders.

“No problem,” you smiled once he sat down at the dinner table.

You went to grab a fork out of the drawer for him, and you pretended to drop it on the floor so you could bend over and give him a peek up your tiny shorts.

His eyes flickered down for a moment before he focused on the plate of food in front of him.

Once you finally grabbed it, you turned around and smiled at him. “Sorry,” you whisper and grab a new set of utensils for him. “Here you are.” he smiled in appreciation while you took a seat.

“It’s hot in here.” You pulled down the zipper on your grey hoodie, revealing the top of your cleavage to him as you fanned your chest and moved your hair to the side. “Are you hot?” You ask innocently.

“No, no, I’m good.” he kept his eyes glued to his plate and cleared his throat.

“I’m like really hot,” you exclaim and take off your hoodie, leaving you with nothing but a sports bra on that showed your perky nipples through.

He shook his head and tried to erase the image he had just seen, but unfortunately, it didn’t work. He doesn’t even know why he was looking in the first place, but it was hard not to when you literally had your tits pushed into his view. “Sorry I’ve been so busy this week, but I’ll be able to help you out a little more next week.” he averted his eyes and started a conversation to distract himself.

“Take your time. There’s no rush,” you assured him and placed your hand on the back of his, leaving it there for a few moments too long.

He chuckled awkwardly and moved his hand away from you. “Yeah, you know it is a bit hot. I’m just gonna take this to my room.” he got up and took his plate and glass with him.

He doesn’t know if his mind was just in the gutter, or you were just being overly nice, or the fact he hadn’t been intimate with his wife, but no matter the case, it just didn’t feel right having you be that affectionate towards him, sure he wanted to get close with you but not that close.

He was very appreciative of the things you did for him, but at the same time, there needed to be some boundaries cause he can’t think of a logical reason for your treatment towards him lately. As bad as it sounds, It was almost like you were coming on to him, and in his sad, lonely state, he could almost feel himself breaking and giving in to you. “What am I thinking?” He rubbed at his temples, trying to get rid of the forming headache. “She’s just nice to me, that’s all,” he convinced himself and erased it from his mind, trying to pretend nothing odd was happening between the two of you.

“Is there a reason you answered none of my calls?” He spoke to his wife while she was busy packing and not paying any attention to him. She had just got back, and she was already leaving again.

“I’m busy. I can’t be here twenty-four seven and answering you at your every call,” she said, annoyed.

“I’m not asking you to answer my every call. I’m just saying maybe you could text me and at least tell me you’re alright.” he followed her from room to room so he could get the answers that he’s been wanting for the last couple of months.

“Sorry, when we got married, I didn’t know I was signing up to be your right hand,” she scoffed.

“You’re fucking kidding me right now. You make it seem like I’m just calling you all the time,” heeseung defends himself.

“You do. It’s been one week, and there are more than fifty calls from you. It’s annoying when I’m dealing with my own life,” she groans.

“Well, baby, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be that way,” his tone softened. “You know that, right?”

“I don’t want an apology. I just want you to let me breathe a little.”

“Well, I miss my wife, okay? All I do is sleep and go to work, and at night, I just want to spend time with my girl. Is that really asking so much?” His temper rose once again.

“I really just need to pack right now, okay? Now please move,” she brushed past him.

“No! You always do this. Just run out whenever you feel like it. You don’t ever tell me shit. I mean, come on, you’re daughter is fucking here alone, and you have nothing to say to her after you’ve been gone for a whole week? I can’t be the fucking crazy one here,” he yells in frustration.

“I said I’m busy!” She screamed and slapped him across his face.

He looked at her in utter disbelief, the harsh slap echoing throughout the bedroom as the once-heated room began to cool down.

He held his cheek in his palm, and he was at a loss for words. “I’m so sick of you acting like you know everything. You don’t know shit you’re just a pathetic excuse for a man.”

“Baby, come on, you don’t mean that,” he said quietly. He could get loud sometimes, but he was still very fragile at heart.

“I’m starting to, can’t believe I married someone like you in the first place.” The longer she spoke, the more hurtful her words became.

He could almost hear his heart breaking into a million little pieces as he blankly stared at her, packing up her things. “B-but you still love me, right, babe? You’re just saying that because you’re angry, you don’t mean it.” he felt himself becoming weaker and weaker by the second.

“Heeseung, not now. I’m running late as it is.” Deciding to ignore his question, she zipped up her suitcase and started preparing to head out.

“What did you call me?” After they both got married, she never called him anything but babe or baby, so to hear his real name falling from her lips absolutely broke him.

She stood up straight and huffed out a heavy breath. “I’m not going to tell you again. Just leave me alone, and we’ll talk later when I get back.”

“O-okay.” he nodded quietly and sat on the bed so he wouldn’t get in her way as he watched her pack up the rest of her things. He wanted to tell her that he loved her so much before she left, but the words just didn’t come out.

Hours passed by, and he was still just sitting there blankly staring at the wall, wondering what this meant for his marriage.

Years of love and happiness were nowhere to be found these past few months, and he couldn’t help but think this was the beginning of the end of his marriage.

He ran his thumb over the gold band on his ring finger as a tear escaped from his eye.

He quickly composed himself when you walked in his room. “I heard what happened just now. Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine, just don’t bother me right now,” he said coldly.

You frowned and closed the door, leaving him to sort out his feelings on his own.

After the way he talked to you, you didn’t feel like doing much, so you just laid in bed, hoping he’d feel better by tomorrow. You resented your mother even more after the way she treated him. You could see her abusing you cause you were her daughter, and she thought you were a failure, but heeseung never did anything wrong, so what right did she have to treat him so harshly?

You closed your eyes, thinking of ways to cheer him up tomorrow before drifting off to sleep.

Heeseung tried calling his wife the next day just to say he was sorry, but he kept getting the dial tone, so he gave up.

He called in to work again. There’s no way he could go to work with this still fresh in his mind cause he couldn’t focus, and he knows that would lead to him not getting a thing done.

He heard rustles in the kitchen, and he went downstairs to see what you were up to. “Morning, y/n,” he mumbled while rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Hey, hee, I’m making breakfast. Would you like some?” He chuckled at the new nickname.

“Hee?” It was pretty random for him, but he still thought it was cute.

“Yeah, unless you don’t like it,” you pouted. “I won’t call you that again.”

“No, it’s fine. It just surprised me, that’s all, so what’s for breakfast?” He joined you at the table.

“Your favorite” you served him like you did every other morning. “Enjoy,” you said and winked at him. You went upstairs to grab his laundry and yours so it would be finished by the time he went back to work.

Once you came back, heeseung had finished eating and was sitting on the couch watching TV. “Hey, I hope you don’t mind. I borrowed one of your shirts since I’m all out of laundry.”

He turned his head in your direction, eyeing you up and down. “I don’t mind at all,” he nods while checking out your exposed chest and your bare thighs.

As wrong as it was, he couldn’t deny that you looked absolutely stunning wearing his shirt.

You smiled when you saw him checking you out, and you sat next to him on the couch. “What are you watching?” You asked innocently as you brushed your knee against his thigh.

“Just uhh, some show I don’t know.” he threw his hand up and let them fall back on his lap softly.

You giggled. “You’re watching something, and you don’t even know what it is?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I guess so,” he gulped as he looked down at your leg.

He knew damn well what he was watching, but it was hard to even think properly when his shirt was riding up your smooth thighs and just inches away from showing off your underwear.

Fuck, this was so wrong. He excused himself and went to the bathroom to catch a breather. He blamed this on the fact of not getting any for so long, but even he knew that was a trash ass excuse.

He tossed some cool water on his face and dried off with a towel, hoping that’d give him some type of clarity.

It didn’t.

He took out his phone from his pocket and tried to phone his wife, but again, still no answer. But for some reason, deep, deep down, he was almost happy she didn’t answer him. “Damn,” he went back to the sofa and sat at least a whole two cushions away from you.

You noticed his distance, but you were determined to get him to finally break for you, so naturally, you moved closer to him once again.

His breath hitched when he saw just how close you were to touching him, and he nearly lost it when you placed your hand on his thigh while focusing on the TV.

A smile finds your lips. When you see how flustered he looks, you can tell he is close to giving in. “I bet you’re tired. Hmm?” You purr next to his ear, subtly stroking his thigh, causing him to release a shaky breath.

“Yes,” he tilts his head back and turns to look at you, eyes already glossed over by desire.

“Yeah? I bet you just want a break after working so hard?” You use the sweetest tone you can muster while slipping your hand under his shirt and rubbing your palm over his pecs.

“You have no idea,” he sighs and leans into your touch more.

“I think I have an idea. I haven’t heard anything coming from upstairs,” you pout and look at him with a sympathetic expression.

“Your mom's just been busy, that’s all. I can handle it,” he replied, knowing exactly what you were getting at, and he told a white lie he couldn’t handle it.

“I can tell,” you hold in a laugh, referring to the night you had caught him “handling it.” “Why don’t you let me help?” You placed your hand above his clothed crotch, pressing down on it slightly. “I can see just how unhappy, tired, and lonely you are.” You leaned in and kissed his neck, tipping him off the edge with your words. “I’ll do what she doesn’t.” You reached inside his pajamas, gripping his shaft, earning a strained groan from him.

That’s what did it.

He couldn’t resist anymore. You had caught him at his absolute lowest, and at this point, all he wanted was some attention. He just wanted someone to care about him. You were there, and his wife just wasn’t.

“You wanna help your daddy, huh?” The idea that this was wrong completely vanished from his mind in this moment. He didn’t care about cheating. How could he when he had his pretty little pliant stepdaughter so eager to make him feel better?

You nodded, getting ready to listen to any and everything that your stepdad desired.

“Keep stroking it, princess” he lazily spread his legs, giving you more space to work his cock up and down. “Why do you wanna help me so bad? Hmm, pretty?” His hand came up to your cheek, rubbing it softly.

“Cause you deserve it, Daddy” You bite your lip, arousal already seeping from your untouched cunt as your tiny hand jerks his pulsing shaft. He felt so thick and warm inside your hand.

“That’s daddy’s good girl.” he laid back, resting his head against the couch, watching you pleasure him.

When you grabbed the waist of his pants, he immediately lifted his hips so you could free his huge leaking cock.

“Daddy,” you gasp from the size of him eyes sparkling when you see just how big he is, and you can’t help but stick your tongue out and swipe it over his tip, tasting his salty precum. “Hmm, so good” you lap at his slit to get another taste.

“Yeah?” He chuckles slightly as he cocks an eyebrow tilting his head to the side so he can see the way your tongue swirls around his thick cock head.

You hum, too busy with licking his length to respond properly.

He lifted his shirt up a little higher when you wrapped your lips around him and sunk down halfway, his face automatically scrunching in pleasure.

Strings of saliva trickled down his cock as you forced yourself to take him in deeper, hollowing your cheeks and making sure not to scrape him with your teeth. “Fuck princess, you’re sucking daddy so g-good” his hand was placed on the back of your head, stroking your hair as you leaned down further, attempting to take him balls deep only to gag once you got a little more than halfway. “Oh shit,” he grunted as your throat tightened up on his cock. The sound of you gagging on his length was like music to his ears. “That’s daddy’s good little girl,” you moaned as you tried to take him again, but he was so big that you choked every single time you tried. But judging by his quick breaths and moans, you must have been doing something he liked.

You held onto his thighs, pulling off his length gripping his base, and tapping his tip on your tongue before encasing his hard cock again. “There you go precious, take my dick” he slowly bucked his hips up fucking into your throat, making you gag every time his tip met your tonsils. “Gonna make your daddy cum” he throat fucked you faster, deeper rougher as your nails dug into his thighs. The slight pain only added more to the pleasure as he pushed your head down until your bottom lip kissed his balls.

You almost felt like you were going to regurgitate, but you wanted to please him, so you did your best to hold it down as you felt him twitching in your mouth.

His rough thrusts came to a stop finally after his cock had rubbed your throat raw. “Cumming!” You could barely register his words before you felt his thick, creamy seed squirting down your throat and spilling on your tongue. “Swallow princess,” his breath was unsteady as he rolled his hips, riding out his high while you drank his cum like a good little obedient stepdaughter. “That’s my girl,” he smiles, pulling you off his softening cock and turning your face to him so he could kiss you. “Come here,” he whispers, and you barely comprehend what he says, but your body slowly moves closer to him when you see him awaiting your kiss. “Hmm,” he moans, feeling your hot mouth on his and the strong taste of his cum still lingering in your mouth.

You whimper into the kiss, and he grips your waist, easily lifting you up and placing your core right on top of his cock. “Daddy,” you mewl when you feel his hot length pressed between your pussy lips, and you can’t control your hips as you start grinding on him.

“Naughty” he nibbles your bottom lip and grabs your ass with his big hands to guide your delicate body over his hardening girth. “Wanna ride me, is that it?” He groans against your neck, stealing a few kisses while he waits for your answer.

“Mmm, yes, daddy.” you weren’t even sure what you were asking for. You’ve never been with a guy before cause your mother always forbade you, so all this was new to you, but the feeling of wanting something inside of you was so strong that you couldn’t help but say yes.

“Let daddy make you feel good first.” he grabbed your thighs, lifting you up and switching positions on the couch. He stood up for a moment, pulling his pants off the rest of the way and ripping his shirt off.

As you lay on the couch, getting the full view of his bare body, you can’t help but gush arousal from your core, and you realize the little glimpse of him you got when you caught him touching himself left so so much more to be desired.

Once he got down on his knees, he spread your legs open and wasted no time burying his face deep into your soaking clothed core, inhaling your strong scent. “You smell so fucking amazing” his eyes nearly roll back in his head once he sniffs you again.

You squirmed on the couch from his words, feeling embarrassed. “Baby wasn’t so shy to suck daddy off earlier,” he teased, gripping your shorts and pulling them down like you did to him minutes ago. You followed his lead, raising your hips up so he could strip you of your clothing, and just the sight of your little pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing had him throbbing so hard. “You’re really wet,” he whispers in complete awe of the translucent liquid staining your little hole and thighs. You looked so pretty he wished he could take a picture to capture this moment forever. “You must really like sucking your stepdad off, huh?” He chuckled darkly, leaving you to feel embarrassed yet turned on at the same time.

“Yes,” you reply. He wasn’t expecting you to even say anything back, but he wasn’t disappointed either.

“That’s my girl,” he smirked and rubbed over your thighs with his warm hands, getting you nice and comfortable kissing on your inner thighs to get you loosened up a bit more.

You shivered at every single one of his touches, only getting wetter by the second, you bit your lips, whimpering needily as your body began to grow impatient with need for your stepdad.

“Daddy’s gonna make you feel so good, pretty.” Those were his last words before his head got lost between your thighs as he slowly tongued down your dripping folds.

“Oh, Daddy.” The loud moan coming from your lips makes him chuckle, sending a little vibration through your core, which gains another unfiltered moan from you. Luckily for you both, he has a mansion cause if he didn’t, those two screams alone would have wakened the neighbors.

He reached his hands under your shirt, gripping your soft mounds, adding to the already mind-numbing pleasure.

You placed your hands over his as he fondled your breasts. “Fuck heeseung” his eyes fell shut when you said his name, and he was so close to humping the sofa to relieve the built up tension between his legs, but he wanted to hold it so he could cum in you after he ate you out.

You’re so lost in pleasure that you mindlessly roll your hips, rubbing your clit on his perfect pointy nose while he slurps your yummy wetness. “Keep fucking daddy’s face,” he rasps against your core. That’s what made you notice what you had been doing the whole time, and to say you were embarrassed would be a huge understatement, but you couldn’t stop rolling your hips cause his face and tongue felt so good.

He dropped one of his hands between your legs, easily finding your hole and sticking a finger knuckle deep into your wet heat.

“O-oh,” all the air got sucked from your body when you felt his digit invading your insides, and you rode his finger, eyes rolling back while you focused on the delicious feeling of something being so deep inside you, your own fingers never satisfied you the way his were right now.

He looked up from between your legs, eyeing your blissed-out state, the sight making his cock stiff as he plunged another finger inside you, desperate to see and hear your reactions to what he was doing to you.

“Mmh fuck!” you cried when you felt your walls being stretched open more than they ever had before. “It feels s-so good, Daddy” You close your eyes, too far gone to even care that you’re now shamelessly fucking his face and fingers as you run a hand through his hair.

He wouldn’t have it any other way, and the suspicion he once had about himself not being able to please a woman quickly went out the window as he saw you in complete euphoria.

He pumped your tight hole full of his digits, curling them up and caressing your upper walls to bring you the utmost satisfaction. He laid his tongue flat on your clit, and you swore you saw stars heat flooded your whole body, a weight forming in your lower stomach and your body quivering intensely.

All it took was one glance between your legs and the tip of his skilled tongue flicking on your clit to make you clamp down on his fingers as your high took over your entire body. “Fuck fuck!” He hummed, encouraging you to let yourself go as you creamed his fingers with your milky white release.

He kissed your clit, praising you as your walls finally let go of his fingers. “My good girl cumming on daddy’s fingers,” he hums. “Can’t get enough of you, princess, tastes too fucking good,” he mumbled into your core, licking up all your sticky wetness until you were clean and covered in nothing but his stringy spit.

“H-heeseung,” you pant his name in broken syllables, trying to regain your composure.

“Did you like cumming on my fingers, pretty?” He laughs softly.

You nod, too shy to tell him how you really feel. “So shy,” he grins and kisses each of your thighs softly. “Adorable”

He stands up off the carpet sitting next to you on the couch once again, setting you down on top of his dick, only this time you’re without your underwear. “You ready for me?” He smirks, feeling your pussy throbbing on top of his dick, knowing you want it.

You nod and immediately hide your face in his neck, which he finds adorable. He’d never seen someone so shy yet so eager for him. “Daddy’s girl,” he puts his hands on your waist, grinding you back and forth, lubing up his dick for you to sink down on as he wraps his arm around you holding you up slightly so he can slip his cock in your hole. “Ready, princess?” he whispers in your ear, his tip positioned at your opening.

He waits a moment and soon withdraws a bit after a minute of waiting for your confirmation. “Hey, you’re okay. Look at me.” he held your face in his hands, scanning your worried-looking features. “If you want to stop, we can,” he said softly and stroked your cheek, eyes filled with nothing but concern.

You felt terrible now cause of his words, the fact that you had led him on without knowing how to please him, and now that he was going to sacrifice his pleasure for your comfort made you feel even worse. “No, just wanna please you, Daddy.” You roll your hips, but he immediately holds you still.

“You already did, princess. Just let Daddy clean you up and take care of you.” he kissed your cheek, but you put your hands on his chest, determined to give him what he deserves.

“I’m sorry for disappointing you,” you mumbled. “I wish I could please you, but I’m a virgin, and I don’t know how.” you’re on the brink of tears, fearful that you had let him down or made him upset and your biggest fear was letting yet another person you cared about down.

He looked at you intently, and he couldn’t believe what you had said. He was far from upset with you. If anything, he was angry at himself. He didn’t know you hadn’t been touched by someone else yet, especially cause you were so nice and beautiful. What idiots were passing up someone like you? He wished he had of asked if you were a virgin before doing anything with you cause he could have made your first time so much more special and intimate.

“Sorry,” you whisper, tears in your eyes. And his silence was only making it worse.

“No, princess, don’t apologize.” he shushed you and caressed your sides. “I’m not mad at you,” he assured. “I’m mad at myself for not asking and taking my time with you. Give me a kiss.” he leaned in, a sound of approval coming from his mouth when you pulled away. “You still wanna take care of your Daddy, right?” He smiles when you nod. “Then let’s go upstairs. Let Daddy be the first one to have you. What do you say, hmm? You trust me, right?”

“Yes,” he picked you up like nothing and walked up to your room, laying you in your bed.

He quickly shuts the door and locks it just in case while you slip off his shirt from your shoulders. “I’ll go slow, okay?” he mutters once he’s on top of you.

You instinctively wrap your legs and arms around him as he bends down, pressing his lips to yours, starting out slow and gradually rutting his cock against your swollen pussy.

He kissed down your jaw and your neck, licking slowly and sensually to build you up for what was to come just so you could come crashing down on his cock when the time comes.

“Hee,” whines leave your lips as you etched your nails into his toned back.

He moans on your skin, flicking your earlobe with his tongue, making you shiver before he works his way down to suck your hard nipple into his mouth. “Ah ah,” You arch up into him, meeting his slow thrust and rutting yourself on his rock hard dick.

“So pretty.” He tightly gripped your bedsheets, feeling his need for you grow stronger with each passing second.

A glob of spit falls from his mouth, and he smears it over your tit before sucking it back into his mouth. “So good.” You place one hand in his hair, the other still on his back as your body silently begs for him to be inside.

Switching to your other nipple with a soft moan, he swirls his tongue in a circle, bringing his hand down to cup your left breast. “So soft.” his warm breath blows against your chest, making you shiver with need.

“Want more” you cry as his length slides through your wet folds. You feel like you’re going to explode if you don’t feel him inside you. Though the idea of losing your virginity was scary, the need for him was too strong for you to worry about that, especially when his tip kept poking your hole teasingly.

A relieved sigh leaves his mouth, the words he so badly wanted to hear from you finally coming out. He looks you in the eyes, leaning down to get a taste of your lips one more time. “Daddy’s gonna deflower you now, okay, princess?” You eagerly nod, leaving him with no apprehension as he angles his hips, rutting forward and pressing the head of his cock past your tight entrance.

He grunts from the tightness. It’s almost unbearable. He can barely move with how you keep clamping down on him, and he already feels like he could cum just from that. “Mmm,” he groans, staring at your face, waiting for you to give him any reaction. “Are you okay?” He wills himself to say despite your walls hugging him so tight.

“Y-yeah,” you breathe, trying to adjust. He definitely feels big, and you can’t deny the stretch is painful, and the pain continues on even when he’s halfway inside or what feels like halfway, but when you look down, you see he’s barely even past the tip, and you feel like you’re going to pass out if you try to take him in all the way. “Daddy,” you moan and squirm beneath him, trying to get him to pull out, but he stays nestled inside you, stroking your cheek and shushing you.

“You’re doing so good, princess.” With a kiss on your forehead, he bucks his hips, going in deeper. “I swear it’s gonna feel so good soon.” he inches in and out, feeling a little less resistance, but it’s still really tight.

“Hee,” you struggle to breathe, gripping tightly onto his biceps from the pain.

“Relax, princess, breathe” he nudges his nose against your cheek bringing a hand down to your clit to distract you from the slight discomfort. “That’s it.” he smiles when he hears you moaning softly. “Making Daddy proud,” he grunts when he feels you squeezing his cock impossibly tight.

Your breath managed to stabilize a bit. Moving your hands to his back, you dig your nails deep into his flesh, trying to hang on for dear life before your orgasm hits. “All for Daddy.” your high-pitched moans are a sign that you’re really starting to enjoy it now, so he pushed in halfway and stayed still.

“Fuck doll, so good for your Daddy” he looks down, seeing his cock buried in your tiny cunt, and the sight makes drool pool in his mouth. Your wet walls wrapped around him was the best fucking feeling in the whole world. He’s never felt this good ever. Not even his own wife made him feel this satisfied.

“Feel like I’m gonna cum” Your lips pout, and the longer he circles your throbbing clit, the closer you get to having your second high of the night. “I’m cumming!”

“Cream on this dick, princess,” he nearly cums with you. The way you grip his cock has his mind in a sub-space. He feels so far gone, too far gone, that just your fluttering walls have him emptying his balls deep inside you. “Fuck” he grunts, his shaft pushing inside you with each rope of gooey cum that paints your walls.

“D-daddy,” you claw at his chest, feeling full to the absolute brim. With the way you squeeze around him so tightly.

“Take daddy’s cum” he messily kisses the side of your mouth, sticking his tongue inside and exploring you. “Yeah? You like that? Being full with daddy’s cum” he massages your clit, bringing you down from your high as he fills up your hole with every last dribble of cum.

“Yes, Daddy.” Your compliance makes him completely melt. He can’t understand how you’re so good to him, especially since it’s your first time, and the fact that you were so eager to please him makes him want to please you tenfold.

The slippery, wet sounds coming from your lower half make you tuck away behind your arms, but Heeseung wasn’t having none of that. “No, no, none of that.” he pins your arms above your head, making sure you don’t pull something like that again. “You’re gonna look me in the eyes when I fill you up, understand?”

“Understand.” You nod, and it makes him smile above you.

“That’s daddy’s good girl” Even after cumming he was still hard. He couldn’t seem to get enough of you as he rolled his hips, easily sliding in now due to all the slickness between your bodies. When he bottomed out, you couldn’t help but cry continuously in pleasure, your moans encouraging him to speed up his thrust til he found a perfect pace. He pulled out halfway and pushed back in, drawing out more loud moans from you. “So fucking tight,” he grunts, gripping your wrist tightly above your head while his balls slap against your cum covered ass. “Look at that creamy little pussy swallowing my cock so well.” He moans.

You were writhing on his cock, body quivering in pleasure as you laid there and took what your daddy had to give you like a good girl. “Heeseung,” you said his name weakly. It was all just too much for you to handle. The room felt like it was spinning and everything felt so hot.

“Shh, doll, just hold onto me.” he released your arms, and you immediately clung to his body for some type of support and to ground yourself. “That’s it,” he whispers and kisses your face all over. “So good for me” he lowered himself to his elbows, gripping onto the sheets again before fucking into you faster. “All for me”

You’re not even sure what sounds you were making at this point, but you had been completely given over to pleasure as he pounded into you, his sweaty skin clapping against yours and adding to the already filthy sounds in the steamy room. “Want more of daddy’s cum princess?” His hips falter, and this time, you can actually feel him twitching inside you, and it makes your eyes roll back in your head.

“Yes, yes, yes! Daddy fuck me full of your cum. Give it to me, please.” Your mouth falls open as little continuous uh sounds leave your lips. Each time his tip kissed your cervix.

“Yeah, daddy’s gonna fuck his princess full” You clench around him when you hear him grunting as he speeds up his hips fucking into you hard, just how you deserve it. You automatically pull him closer so you can kiss him. If you could even call it a kiss, both of your mouths hung open, moaning loudly as you messily swirl your tongues together.

He thumbs your clit, and you could no longer keep up with the kiss. Despite you not kissing him anymore, he still made out with your swollen lips, swiping his tongue over them and nibbling softly as you both exchanged saliva.

Your arms hung loosely around him, your legs shaking and toes curling as the knot in your stomach snapped and pleasuring shockwaves flowed throughout your body. “Oh my god,” he growls inside your mouth as your velvety walls give him the most pleasure he’s ever felt in his life. “Keep going, keep soaking your daddy’s big cock, fuck- cumming!”

“D-daddy,” you stutter against his lips, gripping his waist harshly as he fucks his load deep inside you filling you up with spurt after spurt of his cum.

“Oh fuck, so good” he kissed you one last time, leaning back to stroke your cheek a little while after he finished, he quickly checked on you instead of marveling in the aftermath. “You alright?” He asks, looking down at your skin coated in a thin layer of sweat and chest heaving.

You weakly nodded, and he smiled, leaning down to you and kissing all over your chest once he caught his breath. “Was that good for your first time? He asks with a seriousness in his tone. He knew you didn’t have any prior experience to compare to, but he still wanted to know if you enjoyed it as much as him.

“It was perfect,” you croak out, and he can’t help the huge grin that takes over his face.

He ever so carefully pulls out of you, biting on his lip as he watches gushes of white leaking from your cunt. “I’m gonna go grab something to clean you up, okay?” He tells you softly, stroking your arms up and down soothingly, yet you hang onto him, not letting him move any further from his spot.

“Later,” you whine, and he feels your body still trembling, and he can’t help but smile, knowing that he gave it to you that good to the point you were shaking.

“Later,” he reiterates with a chuckle, ducking his head down to kiss you some more.

And not for one second did he regret anything that he had just done. Even when he saw the gold wedding band shining on his ring finger, he simply slipped it off, putting it on the nightstand before taking you to the bathroom to bathe together a little while later.

“Just like that princess,” your stepdad groans as you bounce up and down on his big thick cock.

This has been going on for the past couple of days. You and heeseung had been going at it like complete animals nonstop. No part of the house was untouched when you were together.

The day before yesterday, he had you bent over the kitchen counter while you were making breakfast. He came downstairs and snuck up behind you, pressing his morning hard-on against your ass, persuading you to turn off the stove so he could stuff you full of his cock and cum, which led to you both skipping breakfast only to go another round in the shower later.

The next day, he took you from behind on the staircase cause when he came home from work, he was too impatient to go upstairs.

Today, he decided to let you ride him on the couch while his wife was still away on vacation. “Does it feel g-good, Daddy?” You bit your lip, toying with your breasts right in front of his eyes as you bounced up and down on his dick, and the way your tits jiggled with every movement had him completely mesmerized by you.

“Fuck yes! don’t fucking stop, princess. Daddy’s gonna cum in this pussy again” Oh, you forgot to mention he had already fucked you on the couch in missionary prior to you riding him.

“Give me all your cum, Daddy” You rotated your hips, sinking lower on him, making a mess on his stomach and the sofa beneath your bodies.

“Fuck” he hissed, throwing his head back and digging his fingertips into your plush ass as he came for the second time today. “Shit,” he grits his teeth, gripping your hips tightly to lift you up and down your ass colliding with his thighs as he finished inside you. Once he was done, he smacked your ass, making you clench around him as his cum dripped out of your swollen cunt and down his pulsating shaft.

“Hmm, Daddy,” you whine, still grinding your hips and fucking yourself on his cock.

He lifts you off his lap and chuckles slightly when you whine at the loss of him inside you. “Lay down for me love.”

You immediately obey and lay your back down on the couch as he situates himself between your legs, sticking his tongue out flat and slurping up his cum mixed with your wetness. “Always taste so fucking good” he stuffed your cunt full of his fingers, curling them deep inside you and rubbing your walls just the way he knows you like it. “Suck on daddy’s fingers, baby” he taps your lip with his fingers and slowly guides them into your mouth. You start sucking on them the same way you do to his cock. “Good,” he cooed, going back to licking at your clit.

His hot breath fans your heat, and you swear you see stars when he presses down on your tongue, gagging you with his long, thick fingers.

You feel yourself going crossed eyed as he sucks your clit, bringing you closer to your high you try to say your step dads name, but you can’t cause his fingers are shoved deep down your throat, not to say you’d even be able to speak cause the way he finger fucked you was just so good it left you speechless.

He locked his eyes with yours. Loving the nasty scene in front of him, drool was dripping from your lips as you played with your hard nipples.

“Cum” he mumbled while eating you out and flicking his tongue on your swollen clit.

Whenever he said that word, it didn’t take you long to cream around him. “Yes, Daddy,” you shirked, legs shaking while he worked you through the pleasure. He got a little carried away and continued to lap at your clit to hear your pretty noises some more, “No m-more,” you cry out, but your plea falls on deaf ears as he sucks on your clit harder. Your body jolts. It’s a mixture of pain but undeniable pleasure, and before you can protest, another orgasm is rippled from you, and it feels even more intense than the first one as you squirted all over his face. You felt embarrassed and tried to pull away, but he held you close, rubbing his face all over your pussy and flicking your upper walls until he got everything out of you.

“God damn,” he groans, finally pulling away to catch a breather but diving right back in between your legs, gulping loudly and hungrily, swallowing up all your essence. “So fucking good” your taste was making him feel so weak. You could literally bring him to his knees any time you pleased cause he couldn’t get enough of your addictive taste.

He pulled his fingers away from your mouth to open you up. He spread your thighs, cleaning everything up with his tongue, and he was so tempted to lick the residual squirt off the couch, but he controlled himself and opted to lick your hole, hoping to get every last drop out of you.

You were moaning continuously, barely coherent of what was going on, but you knew you didn’t want him to stop even if you felt like passing out. “Love this pussy” he kissed your clit. “From now on, this pussy is mine, so sweet, so perfect” he went on and on about you just burying his face into your cunt, wishing he could drown in your arousal.

“Daddy,” you say, mustering up every ounce of strength to look down between your legs, only to fall back down when you see his warm skilled tongue roaming every inch of your vulva.

“Hmm, princess,” his eyes fluttered shut, getting lost in the taste of you. Even when his tongue felt sore, he didn’t stop. “Fuck” he spat on your crotch, slurping it back up only to do it again over and over, just devouring your hole with every lick and suck.

After five more minutes of your constant whining while he licked you clean, he was hard again, and he finally pulled away to get some relief. “Where do you want it?” He said, jerking his cock in front of you.

You beckoned him closer, taking his shaft in your hand and rubbing his precum-stained tip on your lips before sucking him inside your mouth. “So fucking to me,” he grunted while slowly fucking your throat. He reached down, placing his hand on your neck, feeling it bulge when you swallowed him all the way down. “Fuck I can’t hold it. Gonna cum” he splutters out, tightly gripping your throat and violently cumming in your precious little mouth. “Ah fuck! Mhm- so g-good that’s it swallow for daddy,” he pants, thighs tensing and balls tightening as he gave you his cum for the third time today. He gently pulled out of your mouth, gripping his base and softly tapping his tip on your bottom lip. “My good girl,” he breathes out, stroking your cheek as you smile up at him from his possessive words, and you felt happy knowing that you were finally able to please and satisfy someone.

Neither of you were even able to speak after that. he laid right beside you, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and laying it over your tired bodies, knowing you were far too tired to be concerned with cleaning up, and rightfully so cause he was absolutely exhausted as well.

As fun as everything was in the moment when heeseung laid eyes on his wife once she got back from vacation, he felt incredibly guilty. He felt terrible, especially cause she was treating him so well for the first time ever since the move-in.

His conscience was eating him alive whenever she’d make dinner for him and go out of her way to make him feel special. One of the worst feelings was when she’d come to him in the bedroom, no matter if he wanted to or not. He just couldn’t get in the mood to do anything cause he knew he’d see your beautiful face and hear your precious moans every single time.

“You don’t want me?” She asks back, hugging him while he sits at the edge of the bed.

“No baby, i do, I do, but I’m just so tired right now, okay? We can do something tomorrow, yeah?” he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

She didn’t exactly care cause she didn’t want anything to do with him anyway, but she pretended to treat him good since she came back from vacation so he wouldn’t still be upset with her. She had to stay on his good side for a little longer to collect more money before she filed for a divorce.

She never loved him to begin with. She just saw that he was oblivious and unreasonably nice, and she used that to her advantage to get with him. She had someone younger and better-looking living across the country, and she couldn’t wait to leave this hell hole and go live the life she’s been dreaming of.

“I mean it, anything you want, we’ll do it tomorrow.” he turned around, pulling her smaller body to his chest, not even believing the words he was spewing out himself.

“Hey,” you say with a shy smile as heeseung enters your room.

“Hi,” he says timidly and wipes his sweaty palms on his pants.

You stood up and walked over to him, standing on your tippy toes to kiss him, but he dodged it. “What’s wrong? Is my mom here?” You say, confused because that’s the only thing you could think of that was making him shy away from your kisses. He just shook his head as a no and sighed. “So kiss me.” You leaned into him, placing your hands on his hard chest and going in for a second kiss, only for him to reject you a second time.

“Y/n,” he holds your wrists, pushing you back slightly. “We can’t do this anymore,” he says regretfully.

Your expression morphed into a sad one as you heard him say those words to you. “Why? Did I do something wrong? I can fix it, I promise.” You drop your hands to his zipper, desperate to right your wrongs, but he just holds you still yet again.

Fuck he thought to himself when he saw you getting ready to get on your knees for him. Always such a good little girl for your daddy. He quickly shook his head, ignoring those thoughts cause that was a thing of the past. You’d never be his princess again, and he would never be your daddy. From now on, it was strictly a stepdad-stepdaughter relationship, nothing more.

“Look what we did,” he sighs. “I made a mistake, okay?” He lied. He didn’t think it was a mistake at all, but he just felt like it was the right thing to say right now. “I-I was just hurt, sad, and lonely, and I did something stupid it meant nothing to me, okay? I have a wife that I love very much, and I’m here because I’m asking you not to say anything to her about what we did together.” You did your best to keep a straight face, but it was hard because, yet again, here you were, getting your feelings ignored and overlooked. Even when you did everything to please him, it still wasn’t good enough, and maybe everything your mom said about you was true. Maybe you were just useless.

“Okay,” you give him a fake smile and walk back to your bed.

“So we’re okay? You’re not gonna say anything to her, right?” He checks with you just to make sure you’re both on the same page, and you nod your head. “Okay,” he whispers. “And you’re sure you’re fine? Nothings gonna change between us?” He asks once more before leaving.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Like you said, it was just a stupid mistake people make mistakes.” You shrugged, pretending like the past week you were with him didn’t mean anything to you. Unfortunately, it did, and though your initial plan was to just get validated, recognized and cared for, those feelings quickly changed into something more when heeseung treated you like his princess. How could you not grow a liking for him? You knew it was wrong cause he was your stepdad, but he didn’t treat you like that. He cared for you in a different way, catering to your needs and making you feel good, something that you’ve never felt in your life before, and now that it was being taken away, of course, you cared. It hurt you deeply, but you realized you’d never be important to anyone no matter what you did, not to your parents, not to Heeseung, absolutely no one.

“But..” he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something stupid.

He knows he said it was a mistake, but he wasn’t expecting you to say that, too. Even though it has only been a week, he did feel a connection to you, something deeper than he’s ever felt before, something he’s never felt with his wife or anyone for that matter, and to hear you say that it was a mistake after you made it seem like you were into him for more than just sex made him feel extremely hurt. “Yeah, nothing more but a stupid mistake,” he chuckled and left your room, slamming the door shut on his way out.

And despite having his wife by his side, that same lonely feeling was creeping up on him, and once again, he felt useless, like he wasn’t wanted or needed by anyone.

“Baby, come to me,” he called his wife over to the couch. “You wanna watch a movie with me?” He asked, and she joined him on the sofa, kissing his cheek.

“Sure!” She cuddles up next to him, acting extra fake.

“Do you want to pick?” He says, stroking her shoulder lightly, finding it hard to even smile next to her.

“You can, babe,” she responds as he’s scrolling through the movies. He decided on something that sounded interesting.

He felt nothing but undeniable guilt.

Twenty minutes later, you come downstairs and go into the fridge, grabbing some water.

Heeseung can’t help but turn his attention towards you, and he wished he hadn’t when he saw you in the skimpiest sleepwear a girl could buy. “Fuck” he mutters under his breath.

“Hmm?” His wife looked up at him.

“Oh, nothing,” he fake laughs.

You walk back upstairs, and heeseung cranes his neck to the side, staring at you until you were out of his sight.

You came down dressed like that on purpose to show him what he was missing out on. Even if he was just using you cause he was lonely, you still knew he couldn’t resist your body, and you were going to make him pay for thinking that you were just there as free use to him.

“Hey, y/n, how are you?” There’s no doubt you hear your step dads voice coming from the kitchen when you walk in from school, but you pay him no attention, going straight upstairs to your room.

His smile faded as he massaged at his temples, releasing a long sigh.

“I told you you shouldn’t have gone easy on her. Now look, she disrespects you the same way she does me,” his wife annoyingly chimes in.

“And here we go with this again,” an annoyed expression is visible on his face as he sits up from his chair and goes to your room while she makes another remark under her breath.

This back-and-forth shit was really pissing him off more and more. One day, he and his wife were getting along perfectly fine like before, and then the next day, he was feeling like he wanted a divorce cause she was treating him like complete garbage.

That route was sounding really good right now because before you and your mom came into his life, it was far less complicated, and he was never angry. Now, every day, he was stressed and he was the only one trying to make ends meet just to have a normal family, but he wasn’t blind. He could see that wasn’t happening because his wife just wasn’t the same. There was a time when all she wanted was to spend time with him and treat him with respect and love, but now it’s like she couldn’t even stand to be in his presence.

And as far as things go with you and him, he didn’t know, but seeing how you thought being intimate with him was a mistake, he could only assume you wouldn’t miss him if he did file for a divorce. “Y/n?” His voice comes out soft and quiet while he twists the door knob entering your room without any warning.

When you hear his voice, you immediately turn around in bed, not wanting to see his face.

You hear him sigh as the door closes. A few footsteps later, you can feel his weight sinking into your bed. “What’s happening between you and me?” He gets right to the point. “Because you agreed things wouldn’t be different, and maybe I’m blind, but things are so different.” Although he wasn’t trying to have a romantic relationship with you, he still missed your guy’s interactions, like cooking together and watching movies while his wife was away, and even though it took a long time to complete, he even missed helping you study.

The boldness of his statement baffled you. Of course, you knew things were going to be different between you and him, so maybe you shouldn’t have lied about that. But you did it to protect your feelings, and now that he was coming to you in such a way was more than offensive cause was he really that dense not to know that things were bound to be different after fucking your stepdaughter not once but multiple times for multiple days did he really think he could bathe you after sex cuddle you to sleep and make snacks for you in the morning without things changing between you two? Well, apparently, he did because he’s asking you this ridiculous question, but you supposed if you were in his shoes and used someone for pleasure and emotional support just to ditch them when you felt like it, you understood where he was coming from, but that just made you even angrier. “What do you mean?” You sat up and looked at him, sounding completely unbothered.

“Come on, y/n, don’t do this, you know what I mean” he maintains eye contact with you.

“I’ve just been busy, that’s all.” You lie again because there was no point in telling him that you actually liked him. It’d never work, cause he didn’t feel the same for you.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but even I get busy sometimes, and that’s never made me act like you or your mom don’t exist. Whenever I even try to talk to you, you just shut me out, and it’s really annoying.” heeseung was desperate for your attention at this point. He missed you, your body, the passionate moments you shared, the one-on-one conversations, and the bond he had formed with you over the small time span of a week is what he’s been searching for. He thought he had found that with his wife, and in the beginning, it was damn near close, but after spending just a little bit of time with you, he knew that’s what he’s been longing for, the way you begged for him in bed made him feel wanted whenever you asked him for help made him feel needed and at night when you’d sleep in his arms he finally found that peace that was able to take away any stress from his long day.

It was selfish trying to string you along while trying to make things work in his marriage, but right now, and maybe he wasn’t thinking clearly, but he wanted you. He could see a future in your eyes, one he didn’t see with his wife ever.

The only thing stopping him from going through with the divorce was that he’d lose you too, and he wasn’t ready for that at all, at least not yet.

You laugh dryly. “Not everyone is like you.” An accusatory tone can clearly be detected in your voice, and when he hears you say that, he’s not sure if he can continue having this conversation with you because he wasn’t ready for you to tell him about all his flaws. Cause it’d hurt way too bad. Especially hearing it from you.

“You’re right.” The weight on your bed lessens as he stands up and opens your door. “If I can ever help you with anything, just let me know. Hopefully, you won’t be busy too much longer, y/n.” A half smile is the last thing you see before he quietly shuts the door behind him, and you finally allow the tears to gather in your eyes as you lay back down.

Heeseung knew you were lying when you said you were busy. He knew you were ignoring him, or maybe now that you had sex with him, you didn’t care about him at all. He doesn’t really know, and those are a lot of options to choose from, but at the back of his mind, one made more sense than all the others, and that was the fact that you probably just didn’t care about him for real in the first place.

Either way, he was going to find out, he had to because he needed to move on from whatever the hell this was that you and him had going on.

He was having dreams about you, imagining you in his bed. Instead, he even had a dream of marrying you, but he blames that on the fact that divorce has been on his mind lately.

The fact that you and his wife seemed to care nothing about him made him feel worthless as a husband, as a man, and as a stepfather, for what that’s worth.

But he still tried.

He was currently parked outside your school, patiently waiting for you to get out, which would be any minute now. He wanted to take you on a little drive and just talk about everything that’s transpired in the last couple of months.

After he checked the time on his watch, he looked up and saw you walking out of the building. His smile quickly fell when he saw a guy next to you with his arm draped on your shoulder, and man, did that make his blood fucking boil. “Y/n!” He rolls down the window and shouts for you to get into the car.

Unfortunately, your classmate and bully just so happened to follow you out of class today, hugging his arm around you each time you pushed him away. He just kept pestering you, and you weakly gave in like you always did. “Come back to my place, hmm? You look sad, baby. Let me take it away,” he whispered in your ear, making you shudder uncomfortably, which only makes him laugh in your face. “Come on, I know you want it. Wanna feel my big coc.” a loud horn distracted your classmate, and you looked in the direction of it, immediately relieved to see heeseung waiting at the curb for you, yelling for you to get into his car.

You were thankful that he showed up and saved you from your bully, but you were upset because here he was once again, making you care about him even more when you were trying to ignore all those feelings that you gained for him in only a week's time. “I have to go,” you mutter to your classmate and run to heeseung’s car, quickly getting in and shaking off the yucky feeling from your classmate.

“Who was that?” Heeseung asks, trying to keep his composure.

When you don’t answer and choose to look out the window instead of him, his composure had quickly depleted. “I said, who was that?” You still don’t answer, and he grips your chin softly despite how angry he is. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” he restrains himself from yelling, but he doesn’t know for how much longer that will be.

“Why do you care?” You snap and push his hand away from you.

He clenched his jaw and gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Just cause you won’t tell me doesn’t mean I don’t already know. It’s obvious that he’s your boyfriend.”

Your brows furrow, and he continues. “So you’re just opening your legs for any guy now, huh?” He chuckles sarcastically, and you want to slap him in the face for saying something so stupid. “Should have known, you couldn’t go a day without my cock in you, so now you have to get it somewhere else.”

You part your mouth to say something, but instead, you close it, opting to just say nothing. If he wanted to be that dumb, then you’d let him.

“Does he fuck you better than me?” Heeseung let his jealousy take over his whole body, and he just kept saying stupid shit, but he was too deep in to stop now.

It didn’t make sense to you at first why he seemed angry, but you soon pieced two and two together, remembering how possessive he always was when he was with you. You remembered all the times he’d call you his while cumming in you. “So much better” You roll your eyes, you know you’re being petty, but it’s only fair to push his buttons a little if he wanted to say ridiculous stuff about you.

Heeseung’s face drops along with his heart, knowing his suspicions about you having a boyfriend were true. He knew you just used him for sex, and nothing you said to him in between the sheets was real, and he couldn’t take knowing that he never meant anything to you in the first place. “I’m sure it’s easy to please a whore like you,” he retaliates.

“Oh, I’m the whore? Says the guy who fucks his stepdaughter and cheats on his wife” You scoff, and to think you weren’t even having sex with your disgusting classmate made this all the more amusing to you.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that. I liked you better when all you did was take my dick and keep your pretty little mouth shut” Your breath hitched when he said that, and you could feel yourself getting turned on by his words and his dominant aura. It took you back to that unforgettable week when you had him all to yourself. “Didn’t you?” His eyes fall on your little skirt, and he can’t help but grip your thigh and trail his hand up your dress, cupping your mound.

“Daddy,” you hold his wrist, keeping his hand in place over your pulsing cunt.

That’s all it takes for him to start his car and pull around the school building, parking in the closest thing to a blind spot. “Back seat now,” he rushes out, turning off the car and yanking his belt off.

You scampered to the back seat, automatically laying on your back. He climbs in after you, smirking when he sees you’re already in position for him. “That’s a good girl.” You melt hearing him call you that after so long and it makes a gush of wetness leak from your hole. “But,” he says, pausing to take off his belt and unfasten his jeans. “You still have to be punished for giving Daddy’s pussy away.”

You were going to tell him you didn’t, but you’re not sure if, in the heat of the moment, he’d believe you, plus you'd rather be punished by him anyway cause it’s what you were used to. “Gonna take daddy’s lesson like a good girl?

“Yes, Daddy,” he smiles, that weird feeling in his chest returning. He loved you so damn much, always just so good to him.

He rolled your dress up your waist, not bothering to fully undress you. This had to be a quickie cause if your mom came home, he didn’t have a valid excuse as to why you two were out for so long.

He swallows the drool that gathers in his mouth when he sees your cute little baby pink panties, the ones he always loved so much cause they always revealed just how wet you were. “Princess,” his eyebrows draw together, and he basically moans at the sight of your pussy. He’s missed it so much that he feels himself losing all type of strength in his body, and it was dangerous because any time you wanted, you could have him however you liked.

The time it takes for him to drop his pants is nonexistent. He reveals his hard veiny cock for your eyes to feast on.

You rubbed your legs together, clenching around nothing at the sight. You miss him inside you so much, and you couldn’t wait to feel him inside you again after so long.

He throws his suit tie over his shoulder and hovers over you laying his heavy cock on your core teasingly. “What to do with you?” He hums. “Such a naughty slut giving away what’s not yours” he kissed your cheek, brushing the tip of his nose along your jawline, feeling you up while he thought about how to punish you. “You don’t even deserve my cock” he whispered and licked the shell of your ear.

“Daddy, please,” you whine, already on the verge of tears because you need to feel him so bad your body has been craving him ever since that week you spent with him.

“No, don’t say please now. You should have thought about that when you let another man inside you,” he grunted and pressed his hips into you roughly. “As a matter of fact,” he leans back and sits on the seat in the back, legs spread open, giving you a clear view of his hard leaking cock. He wants nothing more than to feel you wrapped around him, but now both of you have to suffer because you decided to be naughty. “Yes,” he hisses, throwing his head back into the seat while slowly tugging his cock as you sit there and helplessly watch. “Since you wanted to be bad, here’s your punishment,” he spits on his shaft, using it as a lubricant to work his length up and down nice and slow, quickly checking his surroundings before focusing back on you. “You can look, but don’t touch,” he smirks at you while touching himself, and it’s not even a fraction of when you do it, but it’ll have to suffice for now.

“No, Daddy, I swear I didn’t do anything with him.” you instantly tell the truth. At first, the idea of being punished sounded fun, but you didn’t know it’d be like this.

“Now, princess, if you keep lying to me, I won’t even let you watch,” he threatens.

“Please believe me.” You inch closer to him, your round, innocent eyes making him feel weak, but he keeps his ground.

“Another word out of you, and we’re going home,” he warns you, and you sit there helplessly leaking arousal and watching him touch himself.

You bite your lip to keep yourself from saying something, and you eye his tip wishing you could lick it clean for him, suck him off, and make him feel real good.

“Like what you see? This is what did it for you in the first place, yeah? Walking in on your stepdad getting off, you liked that right? fucking nasty little thing” he pumps his cock faster, spitting again to wet it up. You moaned quietly when little wet sounds entered the small space of the back seat as his fist met his full balls.

Just touching himself alone wasn’t going to get him there, but usually, a little added dirty talk always did the trick, but not even today was that working. He was getting so close, but it wasn’t quite working because he needed you. He couldn’t get off anymore if it wasn’t you. “Lift up your skirt, show Daddy that wet pussy, baby,” he commanded, his fist working on his stiff cock desperately.

You immediately spread your legs and pull up your skirt, slipping your panties to the side so he can see how wet you are for him. “Fuck” He wishes he could just bend you over and fuck into you rough and hard, but you needed to learn your fucking lesson.

You swiped a finger through your slit, gathering your slick on your fingers, giving him a show. “Daddy’s gonna fucking cum” he looks at you, noticing the tears in your eyes, and he immediately stops knowing he might have taken things a bit too far. He wasn’t trying to make you sad or upset. He just wanted you to learn not to give away what was his. “Princess, what’s wrong?” He asks with worry, doing a complete 180 in mere seconds.

“Don’t want daddy to cum alone, wanna make you feel good” he nearly cums from your words alone, and he swears he’d never get used to you being so eager just to please him.

“I know, princess, but you gotta learn.” he cups your face, swiping away your tears.

“Daddy, I promise I wouldn’t do anything with anyone else but you. I only said it to make you jealous.” You sniffle and hug your arms around his waist.

He stiffened in your hold, freezing up at your confession. He said all those things to you, and it wasn’t even true. To say he felt stupid would be an understatement. “So you didn’t have sex with anyone else but me?” He says, almost afraid to even ask cause the thought of you with someone else other than him made his stomach turn.

“Nope,” you reply, rejoicing that his tone was less harsh than before.

“And you did it just to make me jealous?” He asks again just to confirm.

“Yeah, just wanted your attention, Daddy. Did it work?” You say playfully.

“Yeah, it worked,” you giggle softly, tears drying now that he wasn’t upset with you anymore. “You really are a bad girl,” he grins completely relieved, and he doesn’t care how naughty you are. As long as you didn’t let anyone touch you, you could be as bad as you wanted. “Bend over, you little trouble maker” he released you from his grip, and you bent over immediately, pulling your underwear down for him to have access to your dripping cunt. “Now that’s a good girl,” he spanks your ass, earning a whimper from you. “Stick that ass in the air for me” You shift a bit more, arching your back and sticking your ass up just the way he liked it. “There you go” he spanked you again and smoothed over your plump cheeks with his palms slotting his hard cock between your ass. “Tell Daddy how bad you want it, how bad you miss it,” he says in a daze-like state already, softly rutting himself against your supple flesh.

“So bad, miss you inside me wanna feel you fucking me deep and stuffing me with your cum daddy please” You don’t care how desperate you sound because it’s true you just need him to fill you up whenever he was inside you you felt complete.

“Aww, my princess, daddy’s got you.” You felt relieved from his words, your eyes falling shut as you rested your cheek in the backseat, just waiting to feel him deep inside you.

He doesn’t want to make you wait any longer than he already has, so without preparation, he slowly starts easing his way in. It feels tight, almost too tight to fit, but when he checked on you, you told him to keep going, and he wasn’t about to protest. “Always so wet,” he murmured behind you, lifting up his shirt and tucking it beneath his chin to watch his dick getting lost inside your tight cunt.

“Yes,” you sigh in pleasure. The stretch is a little painful, but you can take it cause it still feels really good.

He lazily rocks his hips, burying himself deeper inside you inch by inch. He loves hearing you whine every time he feeds more dick into you. He always thought you sounded so cute when you took him nice and deep.

He groaned and bit his lip, dick twitching as he feels you clenching down on his cock hard. “Feel good, princess?” his voice sounds far too sweet for what he’s doing to you, but the naughty-to-nice contrast just makes it feel even better.

You moan in response, but that’s good enough for him. He bends down, placing a single kiss on the back of your neck. “You’re so tight,” he whispers and bottoms out. “I missed this so much,” he admits. “You don’t understand.” he massaged your hips with his large hands, letting his thoughts run wild. “Been dreaming about you,” and he may have a habit of saying too much sometimes, but does he care? fuck no, he feels safe with you, safe enough to let his genuine thoughts out for the first time in a long time. “Haven’t even touched my wife since I had you.”

“Daddy,” you whine from his confession. You’ve felt the same ever since your first time with him. You dreamt of you and him together every night. “Missed you too.”

Something about that name wasn’t sounding quite right to him at this moment. This was far more than just some quick fuck to him. “Call me by my name, angel.” he tilts his head to the side, maintaining that perfect pace, the one he figured out you liked the most, which just so happened to be his favorite too, or maybe it became his favorite because of you who really knows.

You whimper weakly and slowly push yourself against him, matching his sensual thrusts, and somehow, this feels so much more intimate than anything you’ve ever done with him before. Despite the lack of space, the location, and the position, this felt raw and real. “Heeseung, it feels so good,” you pant out.

“Yeah?” his response comes out in one long breath as he watches you rocking back and forth on his girth. “So good. Wanna see your pretty face, my Angel girl” he withdraws from your hole, leaving you clenching and empty, but not for long as he turns you over and slides right back in, both of you, letting out loud breathy noises as he does so. “Beautiful,” he pecked your lips. “So beautiful.” he guided your legs around his waist, taking his spot between them slowly stroking your silky walls. “Give me your hands,” he says softly. You catch a glimpse of the look in his eyes, and it’s so sweet and tender it makes your chest swell. “I love you.” he clasps his hands with yours. “I swear I do.” he touched his forehead with yours, taking a leap of faith with his confession. Even if you didn’t like him that way, he just needed you to know that’s how he felt about you.

Nothing but warmth flooded your body at his confession. “I love you too, heeseung,” he swears he hears wrong until you say it again. “I love you so much.”

He wasn’t the type to cry often, but after hearing that, it was impossible for him to hold it in and seeing him cry made you tear up as well. “Yeah?” He laughs slightly, making your heart melt as a tear runs down his cheek.

“Yes, heeseung.” he rolls his hips, unable to keep himself still after your confession. He needs all of you. He wants to feel and hear every last precious sound you make for him.

“You’re perfect for me, so perfect.” he buried himself to the hilt inside you, stroking you deeply, every last inch of him imprinting your walls, marking you as his, as his tip stretched you wide opening you up to take his full length. “Fuck angel,” he whimpers, and he felt so helpless as you gripped his cock so snugly.

“Mmh hee,” you breathe into his mouth, back arching so far it almost hurt, but it was no concern when you felt his tip softly bumping your cervix. “You’re so big, can feel you so deep,” you cry out as you place your hands on his pecs, unintentionally stimulating his erect nipples. “Love the way you feel,” you whisper and close the gap between you both. His lips automatically work against yours, and nothing else fills his mind but the need to please you to the fullest.

He moaned into the kiss, sweat building on his forehead as that pleasuring tingling sensation crept up on him. He felt so good, so warm, so safe and secure in your presence. “Y/n, I’m- oh, I’m cumming” he breaks away from you, strained groans falling from his lips as you feel him twitching inside you, the mix of him stuffing you full of cum and the way his abdomen grinds against your clit sends you to your end, little pleas and whimpers coming from your shaking figure as you feel full of nothing but love. “That’s it, baby, let go,” he says while rotating his skilled hips.

“Hee.” You moan, running your hands through his damp silky hair, and then place your palm on his cheek. He immediately nuzzles his face into your touch as his eyes flutter close momentarily when they open again. They are full of nothing but adoration. There’s no denying it. “I love you.”

He smiled shyly. “Love you too,” he mutters, and you both laugh in happiness together in the back seat of his car behind your school. Not where you thought you’d be today, but neither of you were complaining.

“Home?” He asks you after you both calm down a bit.

“Yeah,” you swipe your thumb over his bottom lip affectionately. “Home”

He grins excitedly, kissing all over your face. He’s probably a little too excited, but he can’t help it cause the weight he’s been carrying finally feels nonexistent, and you’re finally in his arms again, and that’s all that ever mattered.

When you both arrived home, it was no surprise that your mom wasn’t. Once heeseung saw the coast was clear, he back-hugged you at the door. “Just you and me, angel,” he whispers in your ear. “Shower with me.” he kissed your neck, rubbing his palm over your stomach, making you feel butterflies all over. “Please.” he tightened his grip on you, making it even harder for you to say no.

“What if-“

“Shh, don’t worry about that, just come with me,” he says in your ear, and you caved in immediately.

“Okay,” you say as he steps to your side, ducking down to hook his arm around the back of your leg. You instinctively put your arm around his neck as he lifted you up bridal style and walked you upstairs.

“Hee,” you giggle and push your face into his neck, tickling him.

The shower was filled with nothing but loving touches and soft, breathless laughter as you both took turns washing each other's bodies.

Once you finished, you helped each other get dressed, and you went downstairs hand in hand. He ordered food, and you both waited on the couch for it to arrive.

After eating, you both cuddled up to each other on the couch and watched TV, sharing kisses here and there, but you couldn’t fully relax knowing that your mom could be home any minute. “Hee, I know you said not to worry, but wha-“

“Mmm, don’t worry, angel. I checked her location. She’s still forty minutes out.” he kissed your temple softly and laced his hand with yours.

“Okay,” you murmur softly and hold onto him, seeking his warmth as you lay your head on his chest.

This.

This feeling is all heeseung’s ever wanted.

“What have you been doing while I was away?” Your mother is currently standing in front of you, interrogating you about why heeseung has been treating her so differently lately. “What have you told him?” She raises her voice, not bothering how loud she gets cause heeseung was at work, and there was no one to hear your cries or protect you.

“Mom, I haven’t told him anything. I swear he doesn’t know,” you reply, tears gathering in your eyes as you tuck your knees to your chest.

“Then why won’t he touch me? Why is he not talking to me?” she steps closer, gripping you by your hair tightly, making you whimper in pain.

“No, Mom, please,” you beg, on the verge of crying when she smacks you across the face.

“Quit lying!” She screams and yanks you off your mattress, when your knees hit the carpet on the floor you wince in pain. “Whatever you did, fix it. If he finds out, I’ll lose everything, so you better keep your mouth shut, you hear me? DO YOU HEAR ME??!” you nod your head weakly, but just for good measure, she goes to your window, grabbing the wand, and detaching it from your blinds.

“Mom!” You cry out as she whips your bare skin, avoiding your arms and legs on purpose so no one would notice. “Please,” you beg past your tears, pleading with her to stop, but she doesn’t. She never does. “I won’t say anything,” you choke out, tears running out as she ignores you and keeps hitting you ruthlessly. Your body shook on the ground, and you couldn’t do anything but sit there and let it happen. She’d probably kill you if you ever tried to fight back.

“Remember what I told you,” she huffs out a breath, tossing the rod on your body, making you flinch before she walks to your door, leaving you a hyperventilating mess on the floor. “I’m going out. Don’t you dare say a word to him when he gets back, or else next time will be so much worse.”

Heeseung came home in good spirits after work. His wife was gone, and he knew you’d be home at this time.

It’s funny, less than a month ago, he’d be sad that his wife wasn’t home, but now he didn’t much care as bad as it sounds, he just didn’t feel anything towards her anymore, not like he used to.

He walked upstairs, taking a peek inside your room. Pouting when he saw that your back was turned and you were sleeping, but it was okay you probably needed to rest. He knew you had a habit of working your little brain over time.

He cleaned up a bit and went to his bed, killing some time with a little bit of light reading before bed.

You shifted uncomfortably in your sleep, and you woke up from the slight ache in your body. The pain definitely wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it wasn’t the best feeling in the world.

Your eyes landed on the clock. They lit up once you realized it was half past ten, and heeseung had gotten home a little while ago. You sprung out of bed, running to the bathroom to bandage your wounds and wash up.

When you were finished, you immediately went to his room, opening the door right away, not even concerned if he was still awake or not cause you were just too excited to see him. “Hey!” He smiles as soon as you enter and playfully jump on his bed.

“Hi,” you smile and rest your face in your palms, happily kicking your feet.

“Come here.” he sets his book on the nightstand and takes his glasses off as you climb up on his chest, burying your face in his pecs, making him chuckle from your cuteness.

“Miss you,” you say, muffled into his bare chest, listening to the soft bass in his voice when he laughs.

“I was just about to say that.” he placed his large hand over the small of your back, stroking it lightly as you trailed his chest muscles between the opening of his unbuttoned shirt.

You scooted back on the bed, leveling your face with his crotch area as he cocked his brow, watching you settle yourself between his legs as you rested your cheek on his thigh, eyeing the soft bulge in his pants.

You rubbed his thighs up and down teasingly, nudging your cheek on his clothed cock. “Angel, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” You giggle and pop open the button on his black suit pants and pull down the zipper.

His expression turns dark instantly as he watches you. “Y/n,” he groans as you grip his semi-hard cock.

He lifts his hips up ever so slightly to bring his pants further down for you.

You peel back the fabric covering the tiny hole in the front, drool pooling in your mouth instantly at the sight of his thick veiny girth. Pursing your lips, you pull his cock out, kissing it immediately, and he moans quietly from the feeling of your soft warm lips running along his hard leaking cock.

You licked the tip clean as you pumped the lower part and playfully tapped his thick head on your lips, a thin string of precum sticking to your pretty plump lips. You quit with the teasing and open your mouth wide, taking him balls deep right away.

His legs tremble when he feels your warm, wet mouth taking him deep. “Angel, your mouth feels like heaven,” he breathed out, listening to the sounds of your mouth slurping and sucking on his hard dick.

“Yeah?” You say when you pull off him with a pop to take a small breather.

“Yes,” you could feel yourself throbbing when you hear his high-pitched, whiny voice, you loved hearing him get like that for you.

You twist your wrist, fisting his cock as you trail your free hand to the hem of his shirt, pushing the material out of the way. You lean down, sucking a nipple into your mouth, earning a loud groan from him. “What the-fuck!” he moans, unable to comprehend the pleasure he’s feeling. His wife has never ever done anything like what you are doing to him right now. He’s never felt so much pleasure at once. The way you paid close attention to every little detail about him made him love you oh so much more.

You hum against his chest, flicking each of his nipples with the tip of your tongue, making him squeeze your waist as you pump his dick faster.

You replace your mouth with your hand, still stimulating his nipples while you wrap your mouth around his cock once more. “Oh fuck” his whimpers fill your ears, and you’re more than pleased that he’s so vocal it just lets you know that you’re the one making him feel so good that he just can’t keep quiet.

“Y/n, can you?” he immediately shuts his mouth, feeling way too embarrassed to admit what he really wants. He always wanted to experience the feeling, but he never dared ask his wife in case she thought it was weird, and even though he trusted you with his life, he still didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“Hmm?” You hum around his dick, swirling your tongue on the tip.

“It’s nothing,” he lies.

“Hee, come on, you can tell me,” you say softly after pulling off him momentarily.

When you ask so prettily, he can’t resist telling you, even if that meant you’d stop what you were doing to him. “My…” his face gets hot, and he’s actually not sure if he can go through with this. “Suck..” he muttered, guiding your hand to cup his balls, moaning loud at the small contact.

You grin lustfully and lightly squeeze on his full sack, earning a whimper from him. “Want me to suck your balls?” He nods shyly. “Yeah?”

“Yes, please,” he loses his voice the instant you suck one into your mouth. “Uhh, that’s it,” he moans, eyelids drooping even more from the pleasure. “Keep sucking on my balls, angel” he peeled his shirt to the side, fondling his nipples while you jerked him off and inhaled his balls, sucking on them lightly, and you’re doing such a good job he feels like he’s in heaven. “Gonna cum soon,” he losses himself, mouth hung wide open and whimpering loudly while watching each of his balls disappear into your petty little mouth.

You quickly put your lips back on his tip, awaiting his cum on your tongue while fondling his heavy balls. “Take all my cum, angel” he pinched his nipples hard and shot his thick milky load in your throat, his hips involuntarily bucking up to gently fuck your mouth as he filled you up, moaning your name over and over again, it felt so good that his toes curled down into the mattress, muscles twitching and body jerking with each spill of seed as his balls continued to throb on your bottom lip while you hungrily swallowed all of his hot cum.

Sucking him through his high, you release his soft cock from your mouth and lick the corners of your lips, collecting all his cum before kissing his tip one last time. “Good?” You smile mischievously, already knowing his answer.

“So good,” he huffs, eyes lidded and filled with love.

You began tucking his cock back inside his boxers. “No.” he reached for the waistband of his underwear, getting ready to take them off cause it was your turn now. “I’m gonna make you feel good too.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him, remembering the wounds on your skin. There’s no way you could let him find out what was happening behind his back. Your mother would never forgive you.

He looked at you, a hint of disappointment in his eyes from your lack of enthusiasm for him. “Do you just not want to…?” he lifts his slacks back around his waist.

“No, it’s not that I just wanted to do something nice for you, nothing in return.” you hope he believes what you’re saying. Of course, you want him, but even your horrible mother had to get in the way of your relationship with heeseung.

“What? That’s nonsense. I want to give you something in return,” he says and reaches for your shirt, but you flee from his touch.

“Heeseung, it’s really okay,” you lie.

“So…. you just don’t want me?” He says, clearly confused.

“No!” You’re quick to clarify. “Of course I do!”

“Then get back over here,” he giggles, relieved that you weren’t telling him off.

You try to scoot off the bed, but he quickly catches you. “Got you!” he smiles while hovering over you.

“Let me go!” You giggle and squirm, but it’s no use. He’s far too strong for you.

“You’re all mine now,” he giggles, and as soon as his hand makes contact to tickle you, you wince in pain.

Shit.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He pouted and leaned back, making sure he wasn’t crushing you.

“No, I’m fine.” you gripped the hem of your shirt, making sure he couldn’t lift it up.

“Y/n, what’s going on?” He says sternly there’s definitely something more going on. You saying you didn’t want anything in return the strange behavior, and now you’re covering up.

“I’m just tired, that’s all.” you come up with every lie on the spot. The only problem was that not a single one was believable.

“Then let me do all the work.” he gets back on top of you, and even though you try to hold your shirt down, he immediately lifts it up, breath hitching when he sees the wounds on your skin. His eyes flash to every one, and his brows crease together. “Angel,” he whispers in shock, eyes going wide as the room falls silent while he runs his thumb over the bruise softly.

You lean back immediately, covering yourself and hugging your knees to your chest with tears gathering in your eyes.

It was silent for a half minute before he cradled you in his arms. He didn’t say anything and waited before he jumped to any conclusions about what exactly happened. “Please don’t cry,” he says softly and strokes your hair, but it was too late. Tears were already running down your face from fear, anger, and embarrassment. “Tell me what happened when you’re ready, okay?” He smoothed over your thigh and patted your back, kissing your head gently.

After a few minutes, you calmed down a bit. He leaned back, analyzing your broken expression before kissing the tears away from your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you sob quietly. Thoughts begin stirring in his head about what you could possibly be sorry for, and no matter how anxious he was, he simply waits for an answer cause he doesn’t want to pressure you into speaking if you don’t want to.

Your cries were literally breaking his heart. He just wanted to know what was wrong so he could try to fix it. “Shh, just breathe, okay? I’m here, y/n, I’m here.” he kissed your forehead, reassuring you over and over that he was there for you.

“Promise you won’t tell my mom, and you won’t be mad?” You hug him closer, thinking that he might run away after you told him the truth.

That was a big promise for him to keep, but he’d keep it for you. “I promise.”

“Mom,” that’s all you said, and you felt him tense up, which made you clutch onto him tighter.

“Angel, what are you saying?” If you were implying what he thought you were, then he’s not sure if he could keep the promise that he just made.

You wordlessly revealed the bruises on your midsection, and he clenched his jaw.

“You’re saying that my wife y-your mom did this to you?” His voice was laced with pure disgust as he examined your poor state. “N-no,” he shook his head back and forth in denial, not because he didn’t believe you but because you were going through this, and he had no idea you were suffering all alone. “Angel, no,” his eyes shook, tears welling in them as they turned bloodshot, but his sadness quickly turned into pure anger at the thought of your mother hurting you like this. “You can’t really expect me not to do anything about this!”

“Heeseung, don’t please,” you cried.

“No! You can’t keep going through this,” he yelled, and you flinched. “Fuck” he mutters softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you, Angel. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

“Don’t, I’ll be fine. It’s nothing new anyway.” you zipped your mouth after that, trying not to reveal anything more, but it was too late.

“How long?” He asked, running his fingers through his hair.

“Since before I met you,” your lips wobbled, your body shaking with fear and anxiety.

Now everything made sense. No wonder your mom treated you like that. No wonder every time he stuck up for you, she got upset. “Hey, look at me,” he cupped your cheeks, smiling slightly because at least now your suffering would all be over. He was going to make sure you never got harmed by anyone ever again. “I’ll protect you.” You’re not sure how he’d go about doing that since every time he left for work, she’d hit you, but you trusted him. The look in his eyes made you believe that his words are true and that he’d protect you. “Okay?” He cupped your cheek, leaning in to press a kiss on your lips.

“Okay,” you whisper against his mouth and go in for another kiss.

He hums, letting you take the lead. He wasn’t going to make any moves that might kill the moment or make you uncomfortable.

You deepen the kiss, leaning into him more and placing your hand on his thigh. He matched your movements easily, keeping up with the slow pace of things.

You whine, and he grabs your thigh, pulling you onto his lap. Immediately you roll your hips, humping the bulge in his slacks. “Are you sure you want this right now?” He asked while rubbing your hips.

“Yes, want you to take the pain away,” you whispered and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Need you, Seung,” you moan, feeling his cock brushing against your clit through your clothing.

“I will, angel, I promise,” he whispers, entranced by you, and he needs you just as much as you needed him, if not more.

“I love you so much,” heeseung confesses. Your clothes long gone, his wedding ring far away from his finger as well as his picture frame from the wedding facing the wall, and he looks into your eyes so lovingly while stroking your cheek with his thumb and rolling his hips, reaching the deepest parts of you.

“I love you too, Seung,” you say breathlessly, your high feeling closer than ever as he runs his thumb over your clit.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again,” he promises and ducks his head down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, sealing all his love for you in that moment.

“Hee,” you whimper his words, taking you right to the edge as you spasm around him.

“Close, angel?” He moans, using every muscle in his body to make you feel good. He made out with your pretty wet folds earlier, stretched your beautiful hole open just right so he could make you feel full to the brim, and he kissed every single bruise on your precious, delicate skin, taking the pain away and replacing it with his love for you everything about this night was beyond perfect and not a second went by where you didn’t feel loved by the man above you he was so perfect and you made sure he knew it.

You nod confirming his words. Just seconds later, you release on his length, making you both gasp out and cry in pleasure as he messily locks lips with you again and again.

“Love you, seung, love you so much.” you breathe into his mouth, teeth clashing together, but neither of you can care, too caught up in this moment of complete bliss and euphoria.

“Love you too, my precious y/n,” strangled moans leave his lips, the first rope of cum spurting inside you, covering your insides white. The second one follows, and you feel that warmth that you loved so much, that feeling that only he could give to you.

When you see the tears in his eyes, you cry with himea, and he smiles at you.

He wraps you up in his arms, sharing his warmth as your highs take over your body. He’s still lazily rolling his hips and softly playing with your little pearl until you both reach your highest point and slowly come back down.

When the initial pleasure fades, he nudges your nose and finds his face buried in your neck. You’re both panting heavily and exhausted from lovemaking, and all you want to do is bask in each other's arms.

And that’s what you do, but the risk of getting caught is too high, especially cause you’re both in his bed. After you fall asleep, he takes you to your room and quickly changes the sheets so your mom won’t notice anything and goes back to sleep. He wishes you could be there with him, but he’d make that happen really soon.

“What is this?” Your mother barges through the door angrily, catching you and heeseung on the sofa holding each other. You quickly jump off his lap in shock, heart racing uncontrollably in your chest meanwhile, heeseung sits still, hiding you behind him. “How could you do this to me heeseung?!” She fake cries using her little victim tactic, except this time, it doesn’t work.

Usually, when heeseung heard his wife’s cries, it broke him to bits, but now he could only chuckle because of her nerve. Earlier in the morning, you had opened up to heeseung about everything that had been going on cause he deserved to know the full truth, and when he asked you to tell him what had been happening, you told him everything straight from the beginning.

And normally, it would have been upsetting for him to hear that his own wife was cheating on him, but he had no feelings other than relief from knowing she gave him just another reason to file for divorce after he found out the things she had done to you he had no love in his heart for her not even an ounce.

He never suspected his wife of being a cheater. He always trusted her no matter how many times she went out without telling him her whereabouts, but it also wasn’t a surprise when he found out cause the dots were connecting now. He no longer wondered why she was gone cause now he knew she was out cheating or hanging out with friends and spending his money. No wonder she didn’t want to treat him like a husband. It’s because she had someone else on the side. No wonder she didn’t want his body, no wonder after they got married, she showed zero interest in him. Now, he knew it was all just a ploy and a scheme to get half his assets and leave. Boy, was he blind, but thankfully, he now had you to show him to truth. Now he had someone that actually appreciated him, and instead of regretting his whole marriage, he was thankful for it cause it’s what ultimately led him to you, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“How could I do this to you?” He stands up and folds his arms an amused smile on his lips. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

“W-what are you saying?” Her eyes shake between you both, and before anything can get thrown her way or accuse her of anything, she puts her dirty little plan in motion. “I can’t believe you’d break up the family like this, and I never thought I’d say this, but heeseung, I-I want a divorce!”

When he doesn’t give her the desired reaction is when she finally shows her true colors. “You’re right. It is the other way around,” she laughs, and heeseung can’t believe he ever even thought she was beautiful cause now everything about her was mean, ugly, and evil. “But at least now I’m finally free away from you both. You disgust me. I only ever stayed for your money. I never loved you. You know why I never had sex with you after we married? It’s because I despised you and I hated how I had to be attached to you, but in the end, it was all worth it cause now I get to live my life far away from you and that disgrace of a daughter of mine now I can live with the man of my dreams, and you can stay stuck with that disgusting bitch!” She yells at you, and you flinch, tears stinging your eyes cause through everything, she was still your mother.

“Funny how you call someone else a bitch” he laughs. “Are you done? Cause if you are, get out, and if I ever hear you call her out of her name again, I won’t be as nice.” Heeseung puts a protective arm around you for comfort. He could only imagine how you were feeling. Hell, it was hard for him, and he was just her husband, but as a daughter, it must feel so much worse.

“Not till half of everything is mine,” she states confidently.

“All yours.” he doesn’t fight back cause he has one little trick up his sleeve that neither of you knew about.

“Heeseung,” you whisper to him. He couldn’t just give her everything after what she’s done.

“It’s okay, angel, I got us, I swear” he kissed the crown of your head, and she scoffed.

“I want all my stuff packed by morning and I expect you to be nowhere in sight.” She turns on her heels confidently, striding out the door.

“Come here, angel, don’t mind anything she says, okay? I love you, my precious Angel, and you’re the furthest thing from any of those foul names she called you.” he rubs your cheek softly, and you melt into his touch. It would be hard moving on from this and living a life without your mother for the first time, but with heeseung, you felt like you could do anything. He made you feel safe, and he always knew the right words to say to make everything better.

“I love you, hee.” You hug him tightly, inhaling his scent, never wanting to let him go. You both sat in silence, taking everything in as he promised he’d do his best to make you feel loved the right way. “But what about all your stuff? Are you really going to let her take it all?” He just smiled at you, appreciating your concern for him and his belongings, but he had that covered too.

“Angel, I have cameras throughout the entire mansion so anything she’s ever done is on tape” he never once in his life thought that he’d have to use his cameras for abuse in his own family, but unfortunately, that’s what it’s come to, and though this would be a long grueling process in the court for you and him, he just knew after everything you both could live happily ever after, he could show you what real love felt like and he would keep you safe from all your mother's 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

𝐅𝐈𝐍.

Wrong doings taglist 🔖@enmayz @ethelia @donghyckl @heedeungieluvbot @skzenhalove @heebrry @hrutoxxie @yohanabanana @rayofsunshineeee @shiningnono @baribaaari @mixtape-racha @enhypen--stan @rizzhee @t1nywoniee @beomibeom @yourmomscuntis2tighy @lilizinho @3ranch @vampenha @lprww @valhrts @heelvsted @iamliacamila bold can’t be tagged :/

Permanent taglist 🔖 @hoyeonheeseung @furious-eagle @heeseungssidechick

Thank you for reading. Please reblog and leave feedback. - 🐹

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starlightervarda · 5 months

Text

I can't sleep so Star Trek TOS/SNW dashboard simulator

🪆 chekovsgunman Follow

to this day I can't understand why they're called the Three Musketeers if there's FOUR of them? Did Dumas just forget his own main character???

🪴 plantdad Follow

You've got to be kidding me

🪆 chekovsgunman Follow

I know right? A mistake like this would never happen in Russian literature!

5,324 notes

🩺 therealmccoy Follow

After months of taking care of everyone else on this giant tin can I really earned this shore leave. Now I get to drink, relax, flirt with some lovely ladies and sleep until noon 😎 Just what the the doctor ordered!

🩺 therealmccoy Follow

Update: A fucking purple tree ate five crewmen. Again.

955 notes

🖖 iamspock Follow

Despite being among humans for close to a decade, I still find their tendency to overcomplicate and avoid aspects of social situations to be confusing at best and infuriating at worst. So much time is wasted on tedious matters such as who gets to 'make the first move' or 'not come off too strong'.

For example, everyone aboard my vessel is keenly aware of Lt. Uhura and Engineer Scott's 'budding romance'. But their need to extend their oddly avoidant courtship ritual, rather than outright state their interest in one another, is pointless, as well as frustrating to witness.

Why do they do this? Why not 'get it over with', as they say?

I encourage answers from all cultures, human or otherwise.

💅 janicethemenace Follow

I'm sorry Scotty and Nyota are WHAT

💉 xtinechapel Follow

DELETE THIS

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

SPOCK NOOO HE DOESN'T THINK OF ME LIKE THAT 😭

🔧 scott-free Follow

But I do! I thought you knew and were just being nice about it!

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

DMing you rn 😳

🖖 iamspock Follow

You're welcome.

24,103 notes

🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow

PSA: If you visit Antares VII, stay clear of any yellow plants, their pollen can have some...inconvenient effects on the biology of humanoid peoples.

My XO and I suffered through troubling symptoms until it was almost too late. Thankfully, we figured out a cure in time.

🪴 plantdad Follow

I can only find info on the symptoms. What was the cure? 👀

🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow

Do I really have to say it?

6,322 notes

💊 mmmbenga Follow

The galaxy if Klingons didn't exist

⚔️ glorytotheempire Follow

Wow. Humans are openly advocating for our disappearance yet Klingons are the bad guys? I thought your federation stood for peace.

💊 mmmbenga Follow

Cry harder you genocidal wrinkly-faced bitch I hope your planet gets sucked into a black hole

#If you think a joke is on par with what they do then book an MRI because you might have brain damage #fuck Klingons and anyone that sympathizes with them

35,007 notes

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

So I can either skim through this asteroid belt on Warp 2 for 3 hrs or on Warp 5 for 15 mins

🚀 mitchiemitch Follow

Erica no! That's not how navigation works!

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

FLOOR IT???

🚀 mitchiemitch Follow

ERICA NO

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

HOW ABOUT WARP 7 FOR 15 SECONDS?

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

ERICA YOU'RE GOING TO CRASH THE SHIP

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

I AM GOING TO HARNESS LIGHT-SPEED TO ZIGZAG THROUGH THE VOID

🚀 mitchiemitch

ERICA P L E A S E

112,517 notes

🐴 sirsilverfox Follow

I know some species are very private, but you'd think they'd share the important stuff, esp when we should trust each other by now.

How are we supposed to enjoy my weekly dinners if you all don't tell me what to watch out for :/ This is the third time this happens to the same person and I had to get the answer why from our CMO

💫 numerouna Follow

Wait what did I miss while I was gone

🐴 sirsilverfox Follow

Spock got wasted on my chocolate fudge cake and hit his head on the counter ://///

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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

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rubber duck

in which reader is sick and spencer takes care of his girl!!

fluff (18+ for nudity) warnings/tags: reader referred to as girl, non-sexual undressing + nudity/intimacy, reader takes bath, spencer doesn't but he is in fact present a/n: heeeeyyy guys.... sorry for not posting for a month... accept this as a token of my gratitude and know that smut is in the works. keep sending requests, might not answer them but you never knoww!!

Spencer gets home around ten PM. Granted, it’s not a completely unreasonable time for someone to be asleep, but for you? A person who’d rather not go to bed at all than wake up before eight in the morning? You being passed out on the couch at this time is definitely abnormal.

He drops his bag on the coffee table as he approaches, kneeling next to where you’re curled up in the dark room. Part of him doesn’t want to wake you if you’re tired, but he’s mildly concerned. Normally after him being away all week you’ll stay up until he gets home regardless of how late (or early) it is. Ambient light coming in through the window allows him to see the sickly sheen to your skin, and he feels your forehead with the back of his hand.

“Spence?” you murmur, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes. His response is equally quiet, wavering slightly.

“Hey. Are you feeling okay, angel?”

Even though you decidedly are not, your spirit lifts considerably at the sight of him in front of you. A wave of caramel hair falls over his furrowed brow as he scans your face, looking for signs that something is wrong. You brush it away, hand coming to rest on his cheek.

“I’m fine. I missed you a lot.”

Your voice is a paper-thin whisper, giving you away even as you try to downplay your condition.

“I missed you too, but I’m a little worried. You’re pretty warm.” His eyes dart away from your face and down your body, seeming to notice your attire for the first time. “Did you go to work?”

“I tried to. But I had to come home at early. I guess I didn’t make it all the way to bed.”

This seems to worry him even more, if the way his eyes narrow and the line of his mouth tightens is anything to go by.

“How long have you been asleep?”

“Well... what time is it?” you ask sheepishly, still disoriented.

“10:20.”

“Oh god,” you moan, burying your face into a pillow (which does not make breathing any easier through all the congestion), “I’ve been sleeping for eight hours!” Panic wells in your chest at the ridiculous notion that you somehow lost an entire day to sleep. "I didn't mean to-"

“Shh, relax, it's fine. Your immune system works a lot more efficiently when you’re asleep. It’s the best thing you can do when you’re sick. Studies show that melatonin may actually be an effective antiviral, and people who sleep seven hours a night are 300% less likely to develop an illness than people who sleep only five hours a night.”

Despite yourself, you smile into the pillow at his unprompted information dump.

“So... am I... 500% more likely to be better tomorrow?”

He laughs, running a hand through your hair.

“I don’t even know where you got that number.”

“I failed statistics in high school,” you mutter, pushing yourself up onto an elbow.

“Honey, that’s Algebra.”

You bury your face in your hand and laugh at your own stupidity- before it devolves into a coughing fit.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. I know you hate germs,” you say once you’ve managed to get the coughing under control. You look at his face, but there are no signs of disgust or fear.

“I could never hate your germs. But I am worried about the cough... do you think a bath would help?”

You mull it over. Part of you wants to rot on the couch forever, but the more rational part knows you should definitely get up and try to take care of yourself. With a helping hand from Spencer you rise, stumbling into his waiting arms like a foal on shaky legs. Immediately you feel fatigued, but he patiently guides you to the bedroom and sits you on the mattress before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom.

For a few minutes the only sound aside from you catching your breath is the tub filling from the other room. Soon he returns, to find you curled up on the bed and barely conscious once more.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs, gathering you up in his arms and helping you to your feet once more. “You really don’t feel good, huh?”

You shake your head, allowing yourself to be carefully herded into the bathroom. Spencer moves to sit on the edge of the steaming tub, pulling you forward gently by your belt loops. Deftly he begins to undo your jeans as you fumble with the buttons on your shirt.

“I feel like I’m dying,” you groan. He glances up at you.

“I wish you would have told me you were sick. I would have come home earlier.”

“I thought about it,” you admit sheepishly, “but I figured better I be sick and alone than more people potentially end up dead because I’m too needy.”

Your boyfriend sighs, resting his hands on your hips as he looks up at you with a mix of earnestness and admonishment.

“At least tell me next time. I don’t like the idea of you here all alone without anyone knowing you’re ill.” His fingers press gently into your flesh to emphasize his point. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree softly, without hesitation. Spencer’s expression softens too, and he leans forward to press a kiss to your sternum.

“In,” he directs after you wiggle out of your jeans, getting out of the way and helping you into the water. He watches as you carefully submerge yourself, a little tense as if he’s ready to jump into action at any second. “Is it too warm? I tried not to make it too hot because your body temperature is al-”

“It’s perfect,” you reassure, sinking further in. Steam billows up around you and you sniff. “Lavender?”

Spencer nods, settling on the floor next to you.

“And mint. I’m surprised you can actually smell it.”

Normally you’d tease him for his fussing, but the minty steam really does seem to be helping you breathe a bit easier. After only a few minutes, you feel noticeably better.

“Will you read to me?” you ask dropping your head to your shoulder to look at him.

He’s leaning against the wall and monitoring you with a contented look on his face. At the suggestion his eyebrows raise.

“Of course. What do you want to hear?”

“Fairytales. But only the super gory ones. The more disturbing the better.”

“What? No Jane Austen?”

“Ugh, no. I need to hear about terrible things happening to beautiful princesses so I can feel seen.”

A small smirk graces his lips as he regards you, eyes sparkling with humor and thinly veiled affection.

“You are utterly ridiculous.”

“You have to be nice to me when I’m sick,” you whine, slinking lower into the bubbles. Spencer hums in sympathy, running his hand through the water to check the temperature before trailing his knuckles over your arm.

“My poor sick girl,” he teases. You huff indignantly, attempting to hide the way his words make you melt into the bathwater.

“Just get the book, Spencer.”

“Yes ma’am.” He kisses your forehead (covertly gauging your fever, you’re sure) before pushing off the ground. You watch him leave, heart overflowing with adoration even though you still feel sick. Maybe it’s the bath that’s helping, or maybe it’s just his presence.

A minute later he returns to his post beside you bearing Grimm’s Fairytales and a tall glass of water, which he tells you to drink all of before he starts reading. Regardless of how unwell you feel, you find the energy to make sarcastic comments about the characters’ intelligence and the implausibility of the plot (it’s a fairytale, Spencer reminds you) but soon the soothing cadence of his voice enthralls you. The illustrations and the story capture your imagination as you rest your head and arms on the side of the tub.

More time has gone by than you realize when you begin to shiver in the now lukewarm water. Spencer notices, finally setting the book down.

“Ready to get out?”

You nod and he helps you step out of the tub, pulling you close and wrapping you with a fluffy towel. Absolutely no heed is given to the state of his own clothing as your wet skin soaks his shirt, or his own health as he breathes in your air.

“I’m gonna get you sick, Spence,” you say anxiously, making a feeble attempt to pull away. Spencer doesn’t even begin to allow it, holding you even tighter. The honesty of his words is reflected in his eyes as he looks down at you adoringly.

“I can live with the idea of spending a few days at home together.”

You lean into him further, too tired to hold much of your own weight up.

“I can’t believe you have to intentionally get sick to get time off work.”

“You’re definitely worth it.” He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back for a moment.

“And to think,” you muse, the words muffled by his shirt, "when we first met, you wouldn’t even shake my hand.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fic

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casuallyimagining · 6 months

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Set Me Free || myg

min yoongi x female reader

Summary: Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to? Word Count: 14,377 Genre: friends to enemies to lovers, supernatural au, witch & familiar au, soulmate au, angst, fluff Warnings: death of a parent (brief mention), alcohol, soulmate breakup, smooching

Notes: banner by @itaeewon. thank you to @daechwitatamic and @oddinary4bts for beta-ing and listening to me struggle my way through this. as always. and extra thanks to ella for helping me write Yoongi's letters and to my friend tanya for giving me a super helpful base for the ending.

It’s cold. The late autumn wind rustles through amber-brown-orange-yellow leaves, swirling the fallen ones into little tornadoes that scuttle across the pavement. The cold doesn’t bother Yoongi, necessarily. It’s been a while since he’s been here, in this town, on this street, but even after so much time, his body remembers the chill of November in the same way his feet remember the way to his destination. He shoves his hands deep into his pockets and pauses at the street corner.

It’s strange being back here. He’d once known this neighborhood so intimately, he could map it in his sleep. Not much has changed in the almost 13 years he’s been gone. The park on the corner is the same. The playground, massive to an eight-year-old with a near-infinite imagination, stands resolute, its plastic and paint sun-faded and weathered. Further up the block is the head of the trail that snakes its way through the forest, where he’d spent countless hours playing pirates as a kid and exploring as a teen. And there, at the end of the street, is his destination.

The closer he gets, the more his stomach roils with nerves. Thirteen years since he’d walked down this sidewalk. Thirteen years since he’d walked onto that front porch. Or rather, 12 years, 5 months, and 11 days.

But who’s counting?

There’s a light on in the front room of the house, he can see it through the big window despite the shades being pulled closed. He hesitates. He’s spent days–no, weeks–playing out in his head how this was going to go. In a moment, he’ll know if any of those scenarios were correct. And frankly, right now, he’s terrified.

What if you start to cry? What if you slam the door in his face? What if you hug him? What if you yell at him? What if you don’t answer? What if you want to talk? What if you never want to see him again? What if you invite him in? What if you have someone over?

He takes a deep breath and knocks.

It takes a second. He can hear shuffling around on the other side of the door, so he knows his knock was heard. But the longer it takes, the sweatier his hands get, and the more he considers turning and running away. The door opens before he can make a move.

You stand in the doorway, bathed in the warm light of the living room lamp behind you. And shit, Yoongi doesn’t know what to say. In many ways, you haven’t changed since the last time he saw you, but at the same time, you look so different. He can see in your eyes the moment the realization hits, and your expression changes drastically. You looked tired–and Yoongi can sense that it goes deeper than just physical exhaustion–and you were slouching, but now, you’re standing ramrod straight, and there’s a hard look in your eyes. One he knows all too well.

“Hey.” He raises a hand, offers a wave that, in hindsight, is rather pathetic. You stare at him, unblinking, and slowly, he lowers his hand. “I uh… I heard about your parents,” he says softly, scuffing his shoe against the wood of the porch. “I’m sorry you have to go through it.”

“Brave of you to show up.” You sound almost bored, but Yoongi knows–he senses, in that kind of primal, gut feeling he gets when it comes to you–that it’s an act. “You know I could turn you into a bug and squash you if I wanted to.”

“I know.”

There’s a tense moment where you stare at each other, the scowl you wear pulling your lips downward and creasing your brow. But then you heave an exhausted sigh.

“Why are you here, Yoongi?”

“I…”

I want to apologize.

I’m so sorry.

I miss you.

It all catches in his throat. He coughs in a meager attempt to entice something–anything–to come out of his mouth. “I wanted you to have this.”

He holds out his hands, and in an instant, he’s holding a box. It’s full but not heavy, and he thrusts it out in front of him in your direction.

“A 10-year-old shoebox?” You do nothing to mask your surprise.

“Letters,” he corrects. “You don’t have to read them but… I wanted you to have them.” He pushes the box into your arms, leaving you no choice but to take it. Then, he steps away and nods his head. “Thank you for not turning me into a bug. I am sorry about your parents. I… guess I’ll go.”

Without another word, he trots down the porch steps. And then, in a blink, he’s gone. Disappeared into the night.

You sigh and shut the door, the box he’d given you cradled in the crook of your arm. You don’t have the energy for this right now. Honestly, you aren’t sure that you’ll ever have the energy for it, but certainly not the day before your parents’ funeral.

Whoever had decided that witches and their familiars die together clearly never thought of the ones left behind.

You collapse onto the couch, placing the box beside you. This would be easier if you weren’t alone. It would be easier with Yoongi, your brain supplies less than helpfully. You curse yourself. You curse him. After all these years, you thought you were over it, over the abandonment, over the betrayal. But all it takes is for him to show his stupid face, and you can feel it all bubbling up anew. Angrily, you push the box off the couch. It explodes when it hits the floor, what seems like thousands of pieces of paper tumble out and scatter from the force.

The forest was almost silent as you stalked the trail. Not even the birds were happy that day. Twigs snapped under your feet. You weren’t even paying attention to where you were going, your feet carrying you along the path that you’d hiked countless times before. You needed to get away, to escape, to calm down. But you couldn’t, because what you were running away from was hot on your heels.

“Would you slow down?” You could hear the frustration in Yoongi’s voice as he followed you. You ignored him. “Goddamnit,” he breathed, picking up his pace. “Will you at least listen to me?”

Quite frankly, you didn’t care what he had to say in that moment.

“It wouldn’t be a permanent thing,” he continued. “I just… I don’t know. I need to do this.”

You stopped, sliding a little on the damp new growth below your feet. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re not being oppressed, Yoongi. No one’s stopping you from going out and exploring the world.”

“Maybe this way of life isn’t for everyone. Maybe not everyone wants their whole existence to be predetermined at birth. Maybe not everyone wants the universe to choose who they’re supposed to be with and how they’re supposed to live.”

His words stung, and until then, you weren’t quite sure why. Rejection. Not just of how you lived, and who he was, and how things had always been. But of you. Yoongi was your familiar, you were destined to be together in some way since you were six years old and the bond gem first appeared. Not all witches and familiars were in romantic relationships–your parents were, sure, and Yoongi’s parents–but plenty of them had other partners, lives separate from each other. Platonic soulmates navigating the world together.

Until a few months before, you’d been content with that. There was no doubt you’d been best friends from the jump. You’d been practically inseparable through school. Then, months before, he’d kissed you at the winter market. Right there in the park, under the aurora. Before that, you hadn’t thought of him as any more than your best friend. But the kiss had unlocked something inside you. And now…

Now he wanted you gone.

“You want to be free that badly?” By some miracle, your voice sounded positively venomous, even though you felt like you could crumble at any moment. “Fine.”

“Wh-”

There’s a saying your mother told you once, back when you were a child. You and Yoongi had found a turtle in the woods, stuck in the mud. His little turtle leg had been hurt, and you’d rushed it to your mother immediately. Familiars were excellent with animals, and she was no exception, healing the turtle in days when it should have taken weeks. You and Yoongi had both cried when you had to release it back into the wild–you’d both so wanted it to be your friend. ‘If you love something, set it free,’ your mother had said, ‘Sometimes it’s the kindest option.’

Kinder for whom?

The chain around your wrist snapped easily when you wrapped your fingers around it. The incantation meant to keep the bond gem safe became meaningless as soon as you wanted it gone. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been without it around your wrist. You loved it, with its gem of swirling, inky black and navy blue. It reminded you so much of Yoongi, deep and calm and unwavering.

Without a word, you tossed the bracelet to the ground. Yoongi’s eyes widened as it hit and the gem cracked. For good measure, you stepped on it, crushed it into dust. There was a pitiful swirl of blue magic that puffed up from the dirt. When you moved your foot, there was nothing left of the bond gem or its chain.

“What the fuck?” Yoongi’s eyes were glassy when you finally looked at him. He looked almost as crushed as you felt. “What the fuck?”

“You’re free.” And this time, you couldn’t hide your sadness behind your anger.

He didn’t follow you as you walked away, and honestly, it was for the best. It was faint, but you could still feel his emotions, and you weren’t sure you could handle that kind of heartache in person.

There is paper everywhere. Hundreds of pieces, folded neatly in thirds. You have no idea how Yoongi had fit them all into the shoebox. He must’ve enchanted it. Groaning, you start to pick them up.

Letters, he’d said. You flip through some as you gather them up. Now that they’re on the floor, they aren’t in any particular order, but it quickly becomes clear that these letters span years. There are some from 12 years ago, written shortly after he’d left. Some are more recent. You stare at one, from December of the year he left. Glancing through it, you expect it to unearth your anger, your rage. But it doesn’t. Just like seeing him again, all Yoongi’s letter brings is sadness. Grief.

You’d spent the past 12 years grieving. Sure, he hadn’t died, but when he left, you’d lost the closest relationship you would ever have. In 17 years, you’d grown so accustomed to having him there, that when he was gone, there was a Yoongi-sized hole left in your life that you had to learn to fill. And you did your best, sewing yourself back together and moving on. But it wasn’t the same.

Glancing through his letter, it seems you weren’t the only one struggling. You aren’t sure if that’s a comfort or not.

It’s been almost a year since the night market–one year since everything started crumbling around us. I still remember it like it was yesterday. It felt right in the moment, didn’t it? I really thought you would understand.

I’ve tried to figure out where things went wrong. But shit, I can’t wrap my head around it. Why did you react like that when I told you I just wanted to be free?

At the end of the day, I guess we didn’t understand each other as much as I thought we did. As much as this bond brings us together, I guess it doesn’t reveal everything. But… that night I just wanted to kiss you, and so I did. Maybe it was selfish. Sometimes I wish the bond didn’t exist, that we could just be free to choose things for ourselves. That we weren't forced into what the universe wants from us… Maybe that’s selfish, too.

Why couldn’t you understand? I just wish I could turn back time and make you understand. Maybe then you wouldn’t hate me, and maybe then I’d stop hating myself too.

Because watching you destroy the gem nearly killed me, but it wasn’t half as bad as watching you walk away. Should I have run after you?

Would you still be there if I had?

You sigh and lean back against your couch. That damn night market. You hadn’t been back to it since the year he’d kissed you. It’s silly, but a part of you blames it for everything that happened. Because Yoongi’s letter is right. It had marked the beginning of everything going wrong. It wouldn’t change anything, but there’s a part of you that won’t listen to logic, that refuses to believe that maybe, if he hadn’t kissed you–if you hadn’t kissed him back–he wouldn’t have left.

The night market was beautiful. It always was, but that year was particularly beautiful. The park had been decorated in all of its sparkling, winter glory. Candles twinkled in the trees, suspended by sheer force of will. Through some magic you weren’t familiar with, they’d enchanted the sky, and an aurora shimmered far above, slowly swirling in greens and blues and purples. Snow fell gently, and you weren’t sure if it was natural, or if it was also magic.

You browsed the various tents and tables, going from one to the other to see the different things people were selling. Some had crafts, others baked goods, and some were even selling things like potion ingredients and spellbooks. There were a few tables dedicated to familiars–books on shifting and specialty items and insets and jewelry for bond gems.

Yoongi followed you closely, clutching a hot chocolate. You knew he wasn’t cold, the temperature was nowhere near low enough for either of you to be uncomfortable, but the way his fingers tapped against the paper cup, you knew something was up. You could sense his anxiety, could feel it in the pit of your own stomach.

“Want to go sit?” you asked softly, gesturing over to the picnic tables they’d set up under one of the sparkling trees.

His eyes widened. “No, that’s okay. You’re looking.”

“I’m done. Let’s go sit.”

“I-” He deflated a little and didn’t argue further, allowing you to lead him over to one of the tables.

You sat side by side on the bench, backs against the table, and watched the snow fall around you. The night was peaceful, quiet for the most part except for the occasional laughter that bubbled up. Most of the older crowd had left, leaving only the teens and young adults to explore the market. You watched the other festival goers in silence, Yoongi’s arm pressed against your own.

“You okay?” you asked softly, bumping your shoulder into his own.

Yoongi being quiet was nothing new. He was an observer, a listener, he took in information like a sponge. Which wasn’t to say that he was never loud and boisterous, that he didn’t talk incessantly to the people he cared about. But he was absolutely the calmest presence you’d ever been around, even compared to the adults in your life.

But you could sense what he was feeling, could feel his nerves and unease and conflict. And you knew that he’d rather explode than burden anyone with his feelings. So you prodded. Ever so gently. Because he was your best friend, and when he was suffering, you were too.

He stayed quiet, and when you turned to look at him, he was much closer than you were expecting. A moment passed. You shared a look. You’d always thought that Yoongi’s eyes were pretty, but in the twinkling light of the candles above, they were deep pools of warm, dark cedar and flecks of honey. Slowly, subtly, he leaned in–or maybe you did, you weren’t sure– as though some mysterious force was drawing you together. An emotion flashed in his eyes, but you couldn’t quite take the time to consider what it may have been because he was kissing you. Lips chapped from the bitter wind moulded against your own for the shortest of moments. It was tentative and delicate and brief, but as he pulled away, your mind reeled.

That day had affected you in ways you never would have expected. Before, you’d never considered Yoongi as anything more than your best friend, the platonic other half of yourself. And then the kiss, and suddenly, it was like you’d been awakened. For as long as you could remember, your thoughts had been filled with Yoongi. Of the things he liked, the things he didn’t, of spending time with him, of the academy (with him). Suddenly, you were suspecting that maybe there was more to that, more than just the bond of a witch and their familiar.

You sigh. The letters are all finally back in the box, though nowhere near as nicely as they’d been before you’d kicked it and it had exploded. You should get up. You should go to bed. You have to be up fairly early for the funeral. But you stay seated, the box of letters in your lap.

Seeing him again was hard. You’re willing to admit that. You’d spent 12 years convincing yourself that you were fine, harboring anger and resentment and frustration, all for it to melt away the second you saw him. The bond makes it tough to stay mad at him, but it doesn’t let you forget the betrayal.

You stand out of the way, looking out over the funeral attendees in the park. Your parents didn’t have a lot of friends, but there are enough people here that you’d officially call it a crowd. They’re all mingling–you’d bought beer and wine, and if you didn’t know any better, it could maybe be a party and not a wake. You tighten your fist around the bond gem in your hand. For as long as you could remember, your dad had worn it around his neck, tucked under his shirt. The gem is like your mother–bright pink, fiery orange, deep yellow–and when you were a child, you’d loved to look at it, mesmerized by the swirling, glittering colors.

The gems have always been a gift from a familiar to their witch, given to symbolize the soulmate-like bonds between them. Most witches–especially those who were romantically involved with their familiars–wear them as jewelry. They don’t really do anything, though some people claim it made their magic stronger (you aren’t really sure about that, seeing as most gems appear in childhood).

As a child, you hadn’t been particularly close with your parents. Especially as a teen, you would have much rather hung out with Yoongi than them. But they were kind, and supportive, and for the most part, they left you to do your own thing. They’d been almost as devastated as you when you’d crushed your bond gem.

Days after your fight with Yoongi, the doorbell rang. Your mother had opened the door. You were upstairs. You’d stayed home from school that day–sick, but not in the way the administrators would have accepted. For a few brief moments, you’d ignored whatever visitor was downstairs. But then-

“She’s not here.” Your mother’s voice drifted up to you. She sounded disappointed.

“Please.” It was Yoongi, you’d recognize his baritone from miles away.

Quietly, you’d slipped out of your room and crept down the hall, sitting at the top of the stairs. You could hear your mother sigh, could see her shift her weight from one foot to the other. Your father appeared from the kitchen and joined your mother at the door.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” he said, shaking his head. He leaned against the doorknob, pulling it a little more shut in the process so it blocked you completely from the door’s sight.

A long moment of silence passed before your mother called, “Yoongi?” You couldn’t hear his response–he must have already gone down the porch steps. Your mother continued, “It can be scary, and you’re both still young. Give it time.”

The door shut quietly, and both of your parents looked to where you were sitting. You could see it in both of their eyes. Sadness, but something else. Something that looked a little close to pity.

A laugh draws your attention, and you smile sadly as you watch your mother’s coworkers laugh at some memory. But then you notice, just behind them, a shadow close to the ground and suddenly, you’re distracted all over again. Because there, half-hidden by a bush, sits a black cat. Cedar and honey eyes watch you intently, its dark fur swirling and shining like a thousand galaxies. Your hand tightens around your parents’ bond gem, the chain pressing sharply into the flesh of your hand.

He doesn’t move, just sits there patiently. Watching. He’s there as people approach you, offering condolences and hugs that you don’t particularly want; he’s there when people start trickling out. And he’s there when you’re the last one left, all alone under the large oak tree in the center of the park.

It’s quiet as you stand there, staring down at the bond gem in your hands. This is the part you’ve been dreading. Because you don’t want to keep the damn thing–you could if you wanted to, but there’s also tradition to think about. But it’s also weird to give up the one thing that is so emblematic of your parents. You wonder if they’d felt like this when your grandparents had died.

At least they’d had each other during it.

You can sense him approach, even though his steps are completely silent. And though he comes closer, he keeps his distance. On one hand, you appreciate it. On the other…

“If you’re going to be here, the least you could do is be here,” you say quietly, looking down at the gem in your hand. It sparkles a little in the light.

Thankfully, he doesn’t ask you to explain. He takes a few slow steps forward until he’s standing beside you. It’s weird, having him this close again. You’d been too overwhelmed last night to actually observe, but now, you’re exhausted, yet alert.

His hair is longer–as a teen, he’d kept it short, but the ends curl and sit just above his shoulders now. He’s filled out and put on some muscle, and though he’s still a little on the lankier side, his shoulders have broadened. He wears cologne now, the scent light, like lavender, citrus, and sage. So much has changed, and yet it’s the same eyes that watch you with a soft curiosity.

You look up to the tree, watch its branches wave in the wind. You used to think that the centenarian boughs touched the sky, and even still, it towers above everything else in the park. The leaves sparkle, their iridescence catching the light to make the tree look like something out of a fairy tale. You sigh and tighten your fist around your parents’ bond gem one more time before opening your hand.

At first, nothing happens, but then the gem glistens and rises out of your grasp. It joins the other leaves close to the top of the tree, becoming just another sparkle in the prism.

For a while, not even the birds make a noise. You just stand there, looking up at the tree that has stood sentinel over most of your life. The wind rustles the leaves, and they shimmer as they move. You have no idea how many leaves are up there, how many bond gems have been placed over time. Thousands–maybe hundreds of thousands–of witches and their familiars, most forgotten to the annals of time.

It’s strange, knowing that you would never be memorialized by the tree.

“Let me buy you a coffee,” Yoongi whispers from beside you, husky baritone cutting through the silence.

Yoongi isn’t sure why you say yes, but soon enough, you’re walking into the Green Bean just behind him. He’s uncomfortable, people have been watching you since the park, and their stares are starting to burn holes in his back. He says nothing about it until you’re in line at the cafe.

“What are they staring at?” he whispers, leaning close so that only you can hear in the semi-busy cafe. He chooses to ignore how you tense up ever so slightly.

“You’ve been gone for 12 years, what did you expect?”

Right. He supposes he should have expected their animosity. But it’s not just him they’re watching. He doesn’t miss the way people stare at you, watch you warily as you simply exist. His mind races. Was that his fault? Did his absence cause so many unintended consequences?

You order a coffee and choose a table in the far corner of the cafe, away from everyone but still near the window. He sits in the chair across from you, the hard metal shockingly comfortable despite its harsh lines. An awkward silence settles over you both, but Yoongi’s not sure what to say, so he lets it linger. He watches you stare out the window. Which is a little weird, right? But he can’t bring himself to drag his gaze away. It’s like after 12 years of being away, he just wants to look at you.

The barista calls out your orders and Yoongi stands to grab both of them from the counter. He places one oversized ceramic mug down in front of you, and the other, he wraps his hands around. It’s warm, almost hot, and he dares not take a drink yet. You stare down at the foam on top of your drink, one finger hooked around the handle of the cup.

“What happened to them?” he asks softly. When you look up, surprised, he clarifies. “Your parents, I mean. I… didn’t hear how they…”

You sigh, tap your mug. He can sense the deep sadness you struggle with and is just about to tell you to forget he asked when you speak. “I always kind of thought it would be dad who’d go first.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. “He was always so frail when we were kids. But mom got sick last year and…” You shrug. “One of the neighbors found them.”

“I’m so sorry.” You wave him off. “No. Honestly. They were nice.”

“Thanks.”

He nods, and silence settles again. But then something you said pops into his mind, striking him as strange. “You aren’t living here anymore?” Mentally, he slaps himself. Why did it come out like he’s surprised? He supposes that he’s always just kind of pictured you still… here, in town.

“I’m over in Ashland,” you say, generally gesturing west, toward the city. “I work at the library at the university.”

“Yeah?” He raises his eyebrows. “How’s that?”

You shrug. “Mostly good. It’s a job. The library’s usually pretty quiet, so…”

“That’s really cool.”

Ashland is big, much bigger than here in square feet and at least 10 times the people. It’s a real city, with skyscrapers and functioning public transportation and one of the country’s top medical universities. He’s proud of you, he realizes. You’d always planned to leave for the city, too constrained by life in such a small town. For the longest time, he’d planned on going with you. And then, of course, he’d ruined it. It stings a little to know that you’d gone without him like that, that your life had continued as planned, that maybe he hadn’t meant that much in the grand scheme of things.

But then your eyes meet, and he’s confronted by the anxiety and sadness you’re feeling, and he knows he’s just being stupid. Again.

“So, uh…” He feels a wave of nerves wash over him–they aren’t his own. You tap your half-empty mug. “What have you been up to?”

If he’s honest, Yoongi wasn’t expecting you to ask about him. He’s shocked enough that you’d even agreed to be here, let alone that you were interested in his life. “I was traveling,” he starts cautiously, gauging your reaction. You blink slowly, watching his every move. If you can sense his apprehension, you don’t react. “But now I’m up north in Ulmae. I’ve got a pretty good thing going at this restaurant on the North Shore.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, uh…” He chuckles, a little nervous. “They’ve got me bartending on the weekends and let me do music during the week.”

Your eyes widen a little, and you lean forward. “They let you play?”

“It’s only like an hour a night-”

“No, shut up. That’s amazing!” You grin, big and genuine, but Yoongi can sense a tinge of sadness in it.

He’s disappointed when you both finish your coffees and you stand up to put your cup in the little tub by the counter. It’s starting to get late, the sun is starting to set and the streetlights have turned on. It was nice, catching up with you, short though it may have been. It’s not lost on him how strange it is, having to catch up with someone that was once practically a part of him.

Together, you stand outside in the chilly early evening air, looking down the street toward the park. Over the roofs of the shops and houses, Yoongi can just barely see the centinel tree with its sparkling leaves. People walk past–people he recognizes but couldn’t possibly name–some are more subtle about it, but others practically break their necks to stare at the two of you. Suddenly, Yoongi feels exposed outside the cafe, like there are eyes everywhere. He hates this, hates feeling like he’s doing something wrong just for wanting to talk to you more.

You sigh, scuff your shoe against the concrete of the sidewalk, shove your hands deep into the pockets of your dark jeans. “I… probably shouldn’t even ask,” you start warily. “But do you want to come back for a drink?”

The house is the same, yet somehow also different, like one of those spot the difference puzzles come to life. The layout of the living room is the same, but the couch is a different style and color. There’s a blanket folded the same way under the coffee table, but it’s clearly a different pattern than he remembers. Most of the photos are the same, but there are 12 years’ worth of more of them.

Apparently, the stash of alcohol your father kept in the built in cabinet beside the television hasn’t changed.

You pull out a bottle of whisky and two glasses, setting them on the coffee table with a gentle ‘clink.” The shoebox he’d given you sits on the floor. The lid is off, the letters contained within are a mess. Have you read them, or did they spill out? There’s no way for him to really know.

Silently, you hand him a glass and sit on the other side of the couch, grabbing one of the throw pillows to hug in your lap. You sip at the double in your glass stoically, and for a moment, you stare at him. He has to resist the urge to squirm under your gaze. There’s something different about how you’re sitting, something in your aura that he didn’t notice in the cafe. Maybe you’d been saving it for private, but he can sense that you’re reining your emotions in.

But then finally, after what feels like an eternity, you turn over your hand. Two pieces of paper sit in your palm. “I’m going to need you to explain these.” The two letters float over to him and open themselves in front of him.

The first is dated only a few years after he’d left.

I’ve been struck by a thought. I had tacos earlier, and I just know you would have loved them. Which made me realize that there’s still part of me that thinks about you at every turn. Your friendship was such an integral part of my life, and not having it anymore feels like there’s a piece missing. Last week it was a song on the radio. Before that, a stray cat I saw that I know for certain you would have loved. Everything reminds me of you, everything leads back to you. You’re everywhere and nowhere, and…

I would like to see you again. Someday.

How have you been doing? Where has your life taken you? I can only hope it’s treated you kindly. It’s what you deserve.

The other is from the day he turned 25.

A quarter of a century, and for some reason I feel incredibly old. With it comes some realizations, things I didn’t understand before. Maybe I was too young, too blinded by my own need to feel free… but it never was about being free from you. I can’t even begin to imagine how hurtful it must have been for you…

I never wanted to make you feel like I was giving up on you, like I didn’t want you. I never wanted to make you feel rejected, because it wasn’t you I was trying to be free from.

I was so scared of having my whole life laid out in front of me. I never took the time to think what my life could be with the bond–I only ever thought about what the bond meant for my life. All of the expectations, what comes with being a familiar, our roles in society and the universe…

I realize now that I could have–should have–communicated it all better. If only so that I wouldn’t have lost you. So that it wouldn’t have led to me making you feel like I was rejecting you. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered; at the end of the day I was still walking away from you. But at least maybe I could have made it more clear that it was never you that I wanted to be free from.

I’m sorry. I feel like it’s useless to say, but I am so sorry for not realizing any of this before.

Wherever you are, I hope you’ll understand. Take care until I see you again.

I hope I see you again.

Yoongi sighs. The letters–all of them, not just these two–tended to be rambling diatribes, a snapshot of his thoughts as he worked through his feelings about his own life and everything and you. He’d been an idiot when he left–he was 17 and full of himself and terrified of the world but too proud to admit it–and it had taken him far too long to realize a lot of important things.

For a moment, it’s quiet as he thinks of what to say. How should he even begin? But apparently, he’s quiet for too long, because you wave your hand and the letters fold themselves back up and float back down to the shoebox. When you speak, you sound exhausted. “Why are you here, Yoongi?”

“I-”

“Because if the roles were reversed, I don’t know that I’d have the balls to come back. On one hand, I’m impressed. On the other…” You trail off and shrug.

He’s quiet, not sure how to respond. He’s got lots of thoughts, lots of feelings–of course he does–but right now, you’re a wall, and he’s not sure how to read the situation. He’s not sure what you need to hear right now. So he says nothing.

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it, and you look down at the glass in your hand, stare into the dregs of the amber whisky you’ve nearly finished. “I’m running on like two hours’ sleep,” you admit. “But fuck, Yoongi, I… I was so convinced that I’d never see you again. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.” Then, softer. “I’m still not sure.”

“Why?” It’s out of his mouth before he can even think and god, he just wants the Earth to open up and swallow him whole.

It takes a second for you to process his absolute trash heap of an asinine question. But when you do, your face contorts into somewhere between anger, disappointment, and heartbreak. “What do you mean, ‘why’?” You practically spit the question at him. “You… you… Do you know what it’s like to have the most important person in your life tell you that he wants rid of you?”

“I never said-”

“You wanted to be free. From all of it. From me.” You pick at the corner of the pillow in your lap. “And then you just come back out of the blue like nothing happened and drop this damn shoebox at my feet-” from where it sits on the floor, the shoebox explodes, letters flying everywhere, “-and you just… What did you expect, Yoongi? What do you want?”

“I don’t know!” He sounds a little desperate when he says it, and he hates that, hates how pathetic it makes him sound. So he shrugs, takes a deep breath, leans back a little. “I don’t know,” he repeats. “I just… I missed you. And then mom told me about your parents, and…” He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead and out of his eyes. “And then I was on a train.”

You stare at him for a moment, a little gobsmacked. You have no idea how to respond. What do you say to that? Where do you even start? There are a hundred things you could say. You’ve played this scenario out a thousand times in your head over the years–what would you do if he came back?–but somehow, it never played out like this. In your mind, he’d never told you that he missed you.

You’d never considered that he would miss you.

But you should say something, right? It’s weird that you’re sitting there, just staring at him in complete silence. Has your jaw been clenched the whole time? Does he think you’re angry with him? Quickly, you school your face into something a little more neutral and say the first thing that comes to mind.

“How long are you here for?”

Truthfully, you probably should have asked sooner. You’ve been wondering since he showed up on your doorstep last night, but it never seemed like a great time to ask.

He sighs. “‘Till tomorrow.”

You nod, probably longer than it makes sense to, but it takes you a bit to process. Tomorrow. He’s back in your life for two days, and then he’s gone again. That’s not even enough time to catch up, let alone actually talk with him. And that’s… you aren’t sure how to feel.

Yoongi watches you quietly and takes a sip of his drink. He’s barely touched it. “Maybe…” he says after a moment, leaning forward to put his glass on the coffee table. “Maybe I should go?”

Part of you wants to tell him no, to ask him to stay, to tell you more about his gig working at the bar. Anything to keep him here and talking to you. But there’s a more logical part of you that’s overwhelmed, that needs some time to think. He’s offering to go, which means that he’s either uncomfortable or his train leaves early in the morning. Or both. He stands, thanks you for the drink, and you follow him to the door. He hesitates just outside, opens his mouth as if to say something and closes it almost as quickly.

You say nothing. And for the second time in as many days, you watch him leave without another word.

The playground was almost empty. Mama said it was supposed to rain, but she’d also said that you would go anyway, for a little bit. You were trying to learn how to swing on your own, and plus Yoongi and his mom were going to be there, and he’d said he’d bring his trucks to play in the sand.

But he wasn’t there yet, so you were on the swing. Mama pushed you, her hand firm on your back, and you closed your eyes. You were flying, wind in your face as you launched forward into the air. And then, just as suddenly, you were falling, swinging backward.

“Remember what I said,” mama said softly. “Kick your legs.”

You weren’t quite sure what she meant by that. Your legs were little, and when you kicked out, you felt more like you were going to slide out of the swing seat than anything. You heard her laugh a little, but her hand was on your back once again, propelling you forward.

A few minutes passed in a blur of forwards and backwards. You still didn’t quite understand the whole swinging on your own thing, but mama’s rhythmic pushes kept you going. But then, a small voice at the edge of the playground yelled your name, and you heard excited footsteps in the wood chips. Mama helped you slow to a stop, and you jumped off the swing.

A little boy, his dark hair cut short by his own mom, ran toward you. He was carrying an armful of small cars and larger trucks. He skidded to a stop in front of you, a wide, gummy grin engulfing his face and crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“I brought all my trucks!” he announced, looking down at the toys in his arms. “You can be the green one. Here.” He tried to hand it to you, and another fell in the process.

You picked it up and took the green truck from him. It was bright green–the same shade as the lime popsicles Yoongi’s mom usually bought–and it had big wheels. You followed him to the sandbox and you both plopped down. It didn’t take long to have a whole city constructed. Granted, it was all made from rocks and wood chips and other small things you found around the sandbox. But it was a city and it was beautiful.

Yoongi drove his truck over a bump, making engine noises as he pushed it toward you. As he drove the truck down another sand hill, bumping and bouncing it over sticks and rocks, something fell out of the sleeve of his jacket. It was perfectly round, and it rolled to a stop in front of you. You picked it up and inspected it. It was some kind of rock, hard and shiny, but it was also colorful, and you were pretty sure rocks couldn’t be blue.

One look at the rock and he frowned, calling for his mom. She came over immediately and crouched down to see what he was so concerned about. Your mama followed her, and she was the one that saw the rock in your hand first.

“Oh,” she said, her hand gently smoothing down your hair. “You two have found your gem.”

“Wha’s that mean?” Yoongi asked, looking up at his mom.

She smiled and sat in the sand beside him, pulling him into her lap. She held out her arm, twisted her bracelet around so that he could see it. “You know how I have this from your dad? It’s like that.”

“But-”

“Your friendship is special,” she continued, pinching his cheek. Yoongi laughed. “It means you’ve gotta look out for each other now.”

For a moment, he was quiet. But then he nodded, just once. “Okay!” He held out his hand to you, tiny palm face up. “Can I have it?”

“It’s not yours anymore,” his mom said softly, brushing his short hair back. “It’s a gift.”

You looked to your mama and she nodded. “Take care of it,” she told you. “You only get one.”

Middle school was the worst. Everything was difficult. Social situations, interactions with your parents, school. At the time, it all seemed like it was unfairly hard. Making it worse, of course, was getting sick. As a kid, you were never sick that often. Yoongi was a different story. For whatever reason, familiars were just more susceptible to illness, and when he got sick, he got sick.

It was the middle of the semester, and Yoongi hadn’t been to school in days. Your teachers hadn’t even asked, they’d just started giving you packets–homework and printouts of their lessons and extra materials–so he wouldn’t fall behind. So you stopped by his house after school. His mom let you in, offering you some of the snacks she was making for Yoongi before you headed up the stairs to his room.

You knocked gently before entering. The knock was a politeness–you were close enough with him and familiar enough with his room at this point in your life that you could just barge in without warning and you knew he wouldn’t mind. He looked like hell, stuck in his bed buried in blankets. It was clear he’d had a fever at some point, because his hair looked damp and sweaty.

But he sat up when you walked in, coughing deeply before speaking. “You’re going to get sick, too,” he protested weakly.

You waved him off. “Everyone’s sick.” You pulled over his desk chair to the side of his bed and started to go through your bag. “Ms. Miller gave me your math homework, but if you understand it, you’ll have to explain it to me because I have no idea what she’s talking about.” He giggled at that, gummy smile soon hidden by his hand as he coughed. “Here’s the novel for Brown’s class. She said she’d talk to you about making up the paper when you’re back.”

It took a surprisingly long time to go through eight classes’ worth of homework and assignments, but you’d put sticky notes at the front of each packet explaining things, too, so the fact that he was half-asleep for most of your explanation didn’t really matter.

“Will you stay?” he asked when you were done. “Help me with some of this?”

“What happened to not wanting me to get sick?” you teased.

“I mean, you don’t have to. If you want to go home, that’s fine, too. I just-” He coughed, burying his face in his blankets.

“You staying for dinner, hon?” Yoongi’s mom called from the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes please!” you responded, shuffling through the stack of packets you’d brought for Yoongi. “Wanna take a stab at math?”

Halfway through the fall of your senior year, Yoongi started to get… weird. Cagey. Like he was trying to hide something and figure out particle physics at the same time. You’d tried asking him about it a few times, only for him to wave you off with a quiet “just thinking about some things.” After that, he’d be back to normal for a few days. But every time, like clockwork, he would fall back into it.

Finally, on the third day of the new year, he pulled you aside. Tucked back into the dormant foliage of the park, away from prying eyes, he stood, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He was nervous, you could feel it deep inside you, but to be honest, you didn’t really need your bond to tell you what was plain to see.

“I…” He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. His brows furrowed in thought, and after a moment, he motioned for you to sit. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay?” You sat on the edge of a big rock, confused.

“I…” he started again, sitting beside you. You could feel a spike of nerves, and he took a breath to steady himself. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I think… fuck, this is harder than I thought it would be.”

“You can just say it,” you told him. “It’s just me.”

He nodded and mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘that’s the problem,’ but after a moment, he continued. “I need to be free of all of this.”

“What?”

“Haven’t you ever thought that maybe the universe doesn’t know what it’s talking about? That maybe you’d be happier if you chose things for yourself?” He frowned. “There’s rules for gifts. We’re only good at certain types of magic because of how we were born. We have to celebrate holidays certain ways, we have to do specific things on our birthdays-”

“-and we get told who we’re to bond to.”

He recoiled at your words. “That’s not-”

“But it’s true, right?” Your gaze fell from him to your hands. “It’s just one more thing you don’t get to control.”

Yoongi sighed. “I just… want to be able to choose for myself.”

Suddenly, you were sick to your stomach. This was the last thing you’d expected. You didn’t particularly like all of the traditions, either, but you were 17. What the hell were you going to do about it? But this felt like he was saying he didn’t want you. You hadn’t yet talked about the kiss at the night market a few weeks prior, but you’d never guessed that he’d do such a sudden about-face.

“Right,” you said softly.

“Just… think about it?” he asked, dark eyes pleading.

You didn’t like where this was going, didn’t like how it made you feel. But you nodded anyway. Maybe he would change his mind.

Days gave way to weeks and months, and before you knew it, spring had come. Yoongi hadn’t changed his mind. If anything, he’d gotten more insistent.

“I want to find myself,” he’d told you once. “I need to make sure this is how I want to live my life.”

“I just need to get away,” he’d said one day while you were doing homework together. “Start fresh somewhere new.”

And then, on the way home from school one day, he’d said, “I need to be free of it all.”

And you’d snapped. Three months of hearing him talk about it, three months of him basically saying that your entire way of life was wrong and that he was chafing to get away. You couldn’t help it.

“Fuck off,” you’d told him, taking the trail behind the houses at a faster pace. Despite being so attuned with nature thanks to his familiar genes, he’d had trouble keeping up with you.

He’d pushed. And eventually, you’d given in. Because despite everything, you’d loved him, and if he was unhappy, you wanted to fix that. And now…

Now you’re sitting alone at the train station at ass o’clock in the morning. The train station has just barely opened, and already you’re inside, clutching a cup of coffee. There are a few other people here, milling around, waiting for their early trains to god knows where. You can feel them watching you, can feel them trying to make it subtle that they’re staring. At this point, you’re used to it. Word travels fast in small towns, especially when that word is as earth-shattering as a broken bond gem and a falling out between a witch and their familiar.

You try to ignore them, focus on your coffee and the posters across the waiting area from you.

Report any unattended or suspicious luggage to National Rail personnel.

Bags larger than this poster must be checked into the train’s luggage car.

Please remain seated until your train is announced and National Rail personnel give authorization to enter the platform.

You scroll through the news on your phone. Read the posters again. Stare out the window at the coffee shop across the street. And wait. A train arrives, and the couple that had been staring at you leaves. You sigh and stand to throw out your now empty cup.

Just as you do, the door to the train station opens. You turn to look, and there stands Yoongi. He’s wearing a black shirt, a bag slung across his body. His hair is pushed back off his face and he’s wearing his glasses. He’s clutching an absolutely massive travel mug and his phone in one hand, the other rolls a small suitcase behind him. He looks sleepy, but the second his dark eyes land on you, he jolts a little, as if electrocuted into being awake and alert.

“Hey,” he says cautiously, approaching you.

“Hey.” You wave slightly–awkwardly.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is soft, still a little gruff from sleep. You get the sense that maybe he hasn’t said much of anything to anyone this morning.

You sigh and gesture for him to follow you to a bench. The next train–his, you presume–isn’t due for another 20 minutes. You have time, but not much.

“I didn’t like how we left things,” you admit. “I… I wasn't sure if you were serious.”

“Serious?” His head falls to the side slightly, confused. But then, it seems, he understands, and he nods. “I did miss you–I do. I spent the entire ride here thinking about how seeing you again was going to go.”

“Were you right?”

He chuckles. “Not exactly.”

You hum and nod, and for the briefest of moments, silence settles over you. The stationmaster types away at his computer, the clacking of the keyboard the only sound in the entire station. But then you force yourself to say something that’s been on your mind since he showed up on your doorstep two days ago.

“It’s been good seeing you again,” you say, and even though you mean it, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. “I… think in a way, after so long, I made you the villain in my head. It’s good to see that you’re… not that.”

“I am sorry,” he whispers. “That was the worst thing I have ever done, and I just…”

“I get it.”

“What?”

“I think I kind of always did, but… it just hurt too much to think that you were including me in everything that you wanted to get away from, and I just-”

“You were the last thing I wanted to get away from.” Maybe it’s the waver in his voice, maybe it’s the way he ducks his head to make sure he makes eye contact, but you believe him. He sits his mug down on the bench beside him and gathers your hands in his. “I was so fucking dumb. I would have taken you with me in a heartbeat, but god I was too stupid and selfish to take ten minutes to think.”

“I thought maybe I’d done something,” you admit quietly. “I thought that maybe after the night market-”

“No! Oh my god, no,” he exclaims, his hands tightening around your own. “You’re my best friend! I lo-”

“Train 49–the Northern Limited–will be arriving on the platform in five minutes,” the stationmaster announces, not even bothering to use the building’s intercom. “I’ll take you over to the platform when you’re ready.”

Yoongi groans.

“Here.” You pull your hands away from him and immediately miss the warmth of him. But you reach into your pocket, unlocking your phone and shoving it into his hands in one motion. “Put your number in.”

For a moment, he stares at you, dumbfounded. But then the stationmaster opens the door to his office, and the noise jolts Yoongi into action. He types quickly and hands you your phone. You don’t even look at it, just lock it and shove it into your pocket. He hands you his phone and you enter your own contact information before giving it back.

You stand at the same time, and for one brief, quiet moment, you worry that maybe he’s just going to leave it at that. But then he rubs the back of his neck and glances toward the stationmaster.

“I’ll text you,” he promises.

You nod, almost mechanically. You weren’t expecting it to hurt this much to see him leave again. As he turns to gather his things, something comes over you.

“I- Can we-” You sigh, take a deep breath. “Can I have a hug?”

He makes a noise somewhere between a hum and a squeak, and it takes almost no time for the pink to start blossoming on his cheeks. He sputters for a second, and you can feel his shock. But then he opens his arms, and you find yourself taking a small step forward.

It’s shockingly easy to fall back into him, to step into his arms. He’s warm, and solid, but still also somehow soft. His cologne lingers on his clothes, all lavender-y and citrus-y and sage-y. Your arms fit around his waist, and for a moment, you let yourself pretend that this is normal, that nothing ever happened and that he isn’t leaving. But you hear the train horn in the distance and you pull away. You kiss his cheek as you part, and his eyes go wide in shock.

“Text me,” you tell him firmly, reaching down to grab his coffee mug and hand it to him.

“I will. I promise.”

And with one last, fleeting look, he steps onto the elevator with the stationmaster to go over to the platform.

You stand outside the station long after the train departs, feeling very much like you did when he’d left the first time. You should be feeling optimistic–for the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe there’s hope. For you, for your friendship, for… whatever comes next. But it’s hard to feel any sort of positive when he’s on a train back to a city seven hours away, and you have to go home in the exact opposite direction in a few short days.

As you’re walking back to your car in the lot down the street, your phone dings. When you unlock it, you get the sudden feeling that you’re flying, like a horde of butterflies have erupted within you. It’s nerves and it’s excitement and maybe, it’s also a little bit of hope.

Yoongi 💙: thanks again for not turning me into a bug

“I’ve been thinking,” Yoongi says one late night, his deep, sleep-deprived voice distorted ever so slightly by the distance and the speakers of your phone. You can barely see him–there’s a dim light that just slightly illuminates his face, but the rest of the room is dark.

“Dangerous,” you joke.

“Rude.” He nuzzles down further into his pillow. “I’d like to come visit,” he admits softly.

For a moment, your mind goes blank. There’s a fluttering in your stomach, hundreds of butterflies trying to escape at once. He’d kept his word after the train station, texting and calling you frequently over the past couple weeks. You’d text throughout the week–little messages about bad days and delicious lunches and cute dogs–and then on the weekends, one of you would inevitably end up calling each other. You’d spend hours on the phone, sometimes talking, sometimes just existing in the silence between you.

The video calls were a recent development. Since they began, you’d watched him cook dinner, he’d played piano while you worked on a spreadsheet for work, and one early morning, he’d called you on his way home after bartending so he wouldn’t fall asleep on the train.

“What do you mean?” You laugh a little. Maybe it was a little obvious what he meant, but you wanted to hear him say it.

He groans a little, stretches one arm up before covering his eyes with it. He peeks out at you through the cook in his elbow, one singular, dark eye sparkling, even in the poor quality of the video. “I miss you,” he mumbles, and you almost don’t catch it, it’s so muffled by his arm and your phone’s speaker.

You hum. The butterflies in your stomach make themselves known again. “I guess you could come.”

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

“Hey now. It’s against the rules to take something like that back.”

He laughs. “What rules?”

“You know. The rules.” You gesture vaguely before pulling your blanket up a little further on your body. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the rules?” He grunts. “Being away for so long has rotted your brain, I’m afraid.”

“So rude.” His arm is still obscuring his face slightly, but you can see his big, gummy smile as he laughs. “No, but seriously. Are you busy next weekend?”

You frown. You’d been trying to forget about next weekend. “Normally I’d go home for the new year,” you say softly.

“Why don’t,” he begins, stifling a yawn. You’re a little surprised he’s made it this long without seeming tired. It’s almost 3am. “Why don’t I come hang out? We can do new year’s stuff together.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course.”

“What about work?”

He shifts, the arm that was over his face now supporting his head under his pillow. “I make the schedule. They’ll deal with it.”

“Yoongi.”

He continues on, ignoring you. “I can work the day shift and get a train right after work on Friday, but I wouldn’t get there until late, is that okay?”

You sigh. It would be nice to not spend the holiday alone. And it would be nice to see him again. Sure, you’ve been talking to him in one way or another, but it’s different than having him in person. You finally agree, and he shoots you a smug, sleepy smile.

The week passes at a glacial pace. Work is slow because of the break in classes for the upcoming holiday, and spending time in an empty library is infinitely less entertaining than you’d expect it to be. Most of your coworkers have taken off, so you’re mostly alone with your thoughts. You fill the time with paperwork, completing literature loan requests for the University’s faculty and doing intake for the newly released journals the library has subscriptions for.

In the small handful of weeks since you’d seen him last, you’d replayed things in your mind. But mostly, you’ve been stuck on how nice it is to have him in your life again. You aren’t fooling yourself. You haven’t forgotten. But there’s a part of you–a large part, if you’re honest with yourself–that hopes that this is a step forward, that you can be close again. Maybe not how you were, but something that resembles a friendship.

After an eternity, it’s Friday. You sit outside of the train station in your car, parked in one of the pick up spots just outside of the main door. The trickle of people into and out of the station has slowed significantly now that it’s dark out–you’ve never seen it this dead. It’s late, the station is getting ready to close, but there’s one last train that has yet to come in. There’s another car parked a few spaces to your left, and you wonder briefly about who they’re waiting to pick up, but it’s fleeting.

The door to the station opens automatically, and out steps Yoongi. He rolls a suitcase beside him, a messenger bag slung across his body, his other hand shoved deep into his hoodie pocket. He looks around, confused, his gaze going back and forth between your car and the one to your left. You turn on the dome light and wave and he nods.

He gives you a quick greeting as he opens the back door, shoving his bags in the back seat. When he finally climbs into the passenger seat, he sighs deeply, resting his head against the headrest for a moment before turning to you.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey. How was the train?”

He groans. “Long.”

You hum. He’d worked a short, early shift so he could catch the last train from Ulmae to Ashland. He looks and sounds exhausted. But he’s here. He’s not a face on a screen, he’s in your car. You resist the urge to reach out and touch him. It’s strange. You’d been without him for nearly 13 years. It’s only been a few short weeks since you’d seen him last, but you’re giddy, practically bursting with excitement at the fact that, for the next two and a half days, he’s here. With you.

You drive in relative silence, willing the lights to be green more for Yoongi’s sake than your own. The radio plays a soft hip-hop song, and you vaguely recognize it as one of the bands he’d been obsessed with in high school, but you don’t turn it up. You’re fairly certain that he’s fallen asleep, his head lolled slightly to the side so that he’s facing the window.

It’s a damn miracle that there’s an open spot in front of your building, but you gladly take it. There are people in your building who don’t know how to parallel park—who refuse to do it—but you’d taught yourself just for instances like this. For a moment, you think you’re going to have to wake Yoongi up, but just as you cut the engine, he unbuckles his seat belt and stretches.

Your apartment isn’t large, but it’s bigger than most for what you pay for it. You’re on the seventh floor, the top floor of the building, and your bedroom has a lovely view of the building beside you. But if you lean a little to one side and press your face up against the glass, you can see out into the city beyond, and the university campus in the far distance.

He sits his bags down in your living room and plops down on the couch. You’ve already set out some blankets and a couple pillows for him. The clock on your microwave says 11:05.

“You’re probably exhausted,” you say. “I’ll let you get settled.”

Immediately, he picks his head up from the back cushion of the couch. “’m not tired.” Ever defiant. But you can tell he’s lying. You can see it in his eyes how groggy he is. Normally, he’s up much later than this–you know, because sometimes, he calls you–but between working an early shift and the six-hour train ride, you don’t blame him for being a little sleepy.

“I put some towels out in the bathroom,” you tell him, gesturing down the hall. “It’s the door on the left. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks.”

And with that, you leave him there in your living room. You can hear him unzipping his bag as you retreat into your room.

An hour later, you find that you can’t sleep. Not that you’ve even tried. You aren’t even sure why you’re so wired. But you’re sitting in your bed, legs covered by a sheet, in the dim light of your bedside lamp. You’ve had friends stay over before. But this… you feel like you did as a kid, having your first sleepover. Except back then you were wired on soda and sugary snacks and it was a treat to stay up late. Now, you’re just…

You hear the bathroom door open and shut, and after a moment, Yoongi stands in the doorway to your room.

“You have the softest towels in the world,” he says, hair hanging in damp strands in front of his eyes. He pats and scrunches it dry with one of the fluffy grey towels you’d set out for him.

“Would you believe I got them on clearance?”

“I’ll just have to stuff one in my bag, then.”

“I charge a 5% fee for any towels that leave the premises.”

At that, he laughs, a groggy, squeaky sound that shakes his shoulders and crinkles his eyes and leaves a wide, gummy smile in its wake.

“So… what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“I haven’t really thought about it.” He shoots you a look that says he doesn’t believe you, and you relent. “Well,” you pat the bed beside you, inviting him to sit, “There’s this thing every year in the park to watch the meteors,” you say as Yoongi eases himself onto the mattress. “But it doesn’t start until late.” He hums. “Was there something you wanted to do?”

“No, just-” He stifles a yawn. “Curious.” He leans back against the headboard, settling in.

Just like that, you fall easily into conversation. It’s comfortable, calm. Just two old friends chatting. He likes your apartment, thinks the tile in your bathroom is really nice. He asks about your job, nods along as you tell him about working in the library and your coworkers.

And slowly, his reactions become slower, delayed, until he finally doesn’t respond at all. You look over, and his chin is tucked against his chest, his breathing gentle. Asleep.

For a moment, you consider going out to the couch. It would be weird, right, to stay here with him? But as you’re about to kick the blanket off, you pause.

We’re adults. Adults can share a bed. It doesn’t have to mean anything. You’re mature enough to let this just be two people sleeping in the same space.

At least, you think you are.

But as you settle in yourself, snuggling down into your blankets and turning off the light, you’re suddenly faced with the quiet peacefulness of his face. He’d always been handsome, and now that you’re both older, you can appreciate just how beautiful he really is. He sighs and slides down a little, his hand brushing against your arm as he gets more comfortable.

Oh no.

You sit on the floor of your living room, a box of pizza on the coffee table that you’ve shoved out of the way. Yoongi’s beside you, your backs against the couch as you watch some anime he’d been trying to convince you to watch back in high school. You’re three episodes in, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that you don’t really care for the basketball-themed show. Part of you is still afraid that if you say something wrong, he’ll be gone again.

His arm rests casually behind you on the cushions, far enough away that it’s more a comfortable way to sit than any sort of advance, but that doesn’t stop the smallest of butterflies from making itself known in your stomach. This Yoongi is so different from the Yoongi you knew—the one who, as a kid, got excited by construction equipment and the concept of ice cream, and as a teen spent his free time hiding from his parents, playing the piano and hanging out with you (though neither were mutually exclusive). He’s quiet, comfortable in the silence, comfortable with letting things linger.

You’re a little jealous of it, to be honest.

Yoongi leans forward slightly, and a piece of pizza meets him halfway, floating gently into his grasp. “Do you remember,” he begins, settling back in against the couch, “when we were 16 and we went camping?” You hum an affirmative. “We spent most of the week playing old board games with my parents.”

You smile at the memory. If anyone had asked back then, you would have told them it was lame that you’d had to spend the whole time with Yoongi’s parents. But now? That was one of the more fun summers you’d ever had. “What made you think of that?”

He shrugs, mouth full of pizza. “I dunno. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently. Things were so much simpler then…”

You nod and hum softly, but ultimately, you say nothing. Much simpler indeed.

“You know,” Yoongi begins, zipping his coat up to his chin, “when you said ‘park’, I was kind of expecting it to be in the city.”

“I think technically it is.” You lock your car and meet him at the front of it.

“We drove for an hour!”

You shrug. “Big city.”

He laughs and shakes his head, incredulous. He can’t tell if you’re being serious or not, but there was a sign on the way in with the university logo on it, so he supposes that whether it’s part of the city or not, it doesn’t really matter. There’s a well-lit trail that runs from the shale parking lot up a hill slightly to a clearing that overlooks the city and the rest of the park. It’s busy–people mill about around the parking lot, and he can see a steady stream of visitors on the trail up to the clearing.

He adjusts his coat–it’s cold, and both his shoulder and his senses ache with the impending snow–and when he’s ready, the two of you start walking toward the trail. It’s astonishingly busy, and as you weave your way through the crowd, leading him up the hill, he grabs your hand.

So we don’t get separated, he tells himself. For a moment, he expects you to pull away. Not maliciously, he’s not expecting you to scoff and throw his hand away. But what he isn’t expecting is for you to tighten your grip on him and tug him this way and that as you get closer to the clearing. His hand is warm where your skin touches his, like he’s holding a candle a little too close to the flame.

The clearing is massive, mostly flat but not entirely, with gentle rolling slopes that provide some extra elevation here and there. On one of the little hills, a few food trucks are set up, though how they got there, Yoongi isn’t really sure. Someone must have magicked them through the path or up the hill or something. There are picnic tables scattered around, mostly near the food trucks, but throughout the clearing, as well. Towards the edge of the clearing, there’s a cliff with an overlook that has a spectacular view of the city vista below. People are everywhere. Of course, there are a lot of college-aged kids hanging out in big and small groups. But there’s also a shocking amount of people that are Yoongi’s age and older–professors, he assumes, and university staff here to enjoy the evening. Almost all of them are holding drinks, and just about every one of them seems to be paired with someone.

It’s subtle sometimes, seeing bonded witches and familiars. Of course, the ones who are romantically involved tend to be more obvious, but the ones that are just friends are just as easy to spot once you know what to look for. It’s the people who stand so close together they’re almost touching, the ones who lean in a little extra close to whisper something. And the clearing is full of pairs standing in each other’s personal spaces.

You tug on his hand to direct him off to the left and he blindly follows, squeezing your fingers ever so gently as a response.

There’s a pair of people at one of the tables by the food trucks. They spot you almost immediately, and one of them stands to greet you. He’s a little taller than you are, made even more obvious when he gives you an awkward, one-armed hug over the picnic table’s bench. The other one–a woman–remains seated, eyeing Yoongi.

For a hot minute, it’s weird, as he stands there in silence while you chat with the man and woman. It’s not even the side-eye that the woman’s shooting him. The man is handsome–Yoongi’s not blind–and you are friendly with him. But there’s a moment, the briefest of moments, where you gesture somewhere off to your left. And when your body moves, Yoongi’s arm moves, too, and a little part of him, a silly, childish, hopeful part, soars.

You’re still holding his hand.

Eventually, you introduce him to the two. Alice works the reference desk in your library while she’s doing a doctorate program in linguistics. Her partner is gone in the winter, fighting fires in the far south. Despite her harsh side-eye, she greets Yoongi with a smile and a polite handshake. Jihwan, on the other hand, is the head baseball coach at the university. How the two of you met, Yoongi can only guess, but you make no mention of Jihwan’s partner, and Yoongi doesn’t see a gem anywhere. He almost–almost–starts to feel bad for the guy, but then he opens his mouth.

You ask a simple question, gesturing with your head to the food trucks. “What do they have good?”

“The pierogi guy from last year is back-”

Jihwan interrupts Alice. “Too much butter.”

It’s not even what he says. It’s how he says it. Like you and Alice are toddlers, like you can’t be trusted not to drown yourselves in carbs. But you roll your eyes and Alice scoffs playfully, and Yoongi realizes that this is not the first time Jihwan has done something like this. And suddenly, Yoongi hates this guy.

“Apparently, he’s got a new flavor this year,” Alice says, continuing like Jihwan never interrupted. “But the taco guy is also back-”

“Is the popcorn guy back?” you ask. laughing. “Because I kind of want a front-row seat to that.” Yoongi must look confused, because you explain. “Pierogi guy’s daughter was engaged to taco guy’s daughter. But last year, pierogi guy and taco guy just started yelling at each other-”

“-It was amazing,” Alice adds.

“It was ridiculous,” Jihwan mumbles.

You push him. “It was a little like having our own little telenovela here.”

Cautiously, Yoongi asks, “Why were they fighting?”

“No one knows.” You shrug. “But it launched a campus-wide food war. Everyone was choosing sides. It was like the year the Moondance tried to change its logo.”

Jihwan and Alice look at you, a little confused. But Yoongi knows exactly what you’re talking about. Somewhere around when you were preteens, the owners of the Moondance diner decided that its logo was outdated and wanted to update it. The whole town had been in an uproar, whole neighborhoods entering into a Cold War-esque stand-off over their preferences. People who had been friends for 50 years were suddenly in an unsolvable, unending argument. All over a color palette swap and a slightly newer font. Yoongi hadn’t cared much one way or the other–all businesses change their logos at some point, right?–and he always suspected that you didn’t either, but you’d both gotten swept up in the chaos of it all. It was stupid, ridiculous fun, and he’s pretty sure that his parents still have the buttons you’d made somewhere in their house.

You finally let go of Yoongi’s hand when you’re standing in line at the taco truck, and he’s painfully aware of how empty it feels now. You don’t go far, though, standing close enough that your elbow brushes against his every once in a while. You’re scrolling through your phone, reading some news article to pass the time. It’s gotten darker since you’ve been there, and looking up, he can just barely make out a couple pinpricks of stars in the sky. The clearing is fairly bright, with little flickering balls of light criss-crossing the space like bistro lighting, and the lights from the city below don’t help to make the night sky visible.

You pay for his tacos–”I get an employee discount,” you say, brandishing your university id like it’s a black card–and Yoongi doesn’t think that you were in line that long, but when you return to the table, Alice and Jihwan are gone.

“Where’d-” He’s not even asked the question, but you’re already shrugging.

“Alice’s probably off calling her fiance,” you say it like you’re back in high school, all singsong-y and mockingly, “and who knows where Jihwan got to. Probably trying to take someone home tonight.”

“He seems…”

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“How’d you meet him?”

A pang of… something hits him. Your expression falls, ever so slightly, and he regrets asking. But after a brief moment, you clear your throat. “He and I are the only two on campus without gems.”

Oh.

Well.

That makes sense.

“So they…”

You pick a piece of red cabbage off your taco and eat it. “Yeah, they know.”

Which explains Alice’s side-eye earlier. The weird emotion he’d gotten from you is gone now, and you seem to have just brushed right past the awkward feelings.

He hums, not really sure what to say. What’s there to say? So instead of saying anything dumb, he does the safe thing. He changes the subject.

“No wonder they didn’t kick the taco guy out of the festival this year.” He takes another bite of his taco. “This is the best al pastor I’ve ever had.”

“His chimichangas are amazing, but he only makes them on special days.”

“More special than…?” He gestures vaguely. Around you, the lights have started to dim. Yoongi isn’t really sure when that started, but things are definitely less bright.

You laugh, and something inside of him warms.

He hasn’t even finished his tacos yet, but the vibe in the clearing starts to dramatically change. The crowd gathers tighter, a palpable buzz in the air. Alice has returned and stands alone near the head of the table. She’s looking up at the sky, and when Yoongi looks up, he sees why. There’s an aurora in the sky, gentle waves of effervescent greens and blues swirling through the heavens, just like the night market all those years ago. It has to be magic of some sort–the city isn’t far enough north for it to be natural–but he can’t tell who’s doing it.

A hand on his shoulder pulls his focus back to the ground. You’re there behind him, bathed in the dim glow of the floating lights around you. By now, it’s almost dark, but even in the low light and deep shadows, you’re beautiful.

“Come on,” you say softly. “Let’s get a good spot closer to the lookout.”

He follows you through the crowd, weaving around the bodies to get closer to the edge of the clearing. It’s tight, and you grab his hand so you don’t get separated. Normally, Yoongi isn’t a huge fan of crowds like this. You’re a small island in a sea of people, and he barely has room to turn in a circle without bumping into someone. You stand close–close enough that he can feel your warmth through the chill of the night.

The city spans the valley below, a forest of metal and windows and concrete. A bright spot in the middle of an otherwise dark night. But then, individually at first and then more, the buildings’ lights begin to flicker out.

“They’ve been doing this festival since before the city got public electricity,” you explain, answering his question before he could even ask. “It’s kind of a big deal.”

With the lights of the city mostly out, the stars above are much brighter. He can almost see them twinkling and winking as they burn, millions of billions of lightyears away. The night sky is beautiful, and his eyes drift around to locate the constellations he’d learned as a child. Almost immediately, he finds Perseus, right beside his wife Andromeda. You’d loved the myth of Perseus slaying Medusa when you were kids, and even though he hadn’t looked for the constellation in over a decade, finding it is still ingrained in him.

He nudges you slightly, pointing up to the constellation. But just as he does, a pinprick of light streaks across the sky. You squeeze his hand as more streaks start to appear and the gathered crowd buzzes with ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s. The meteors are all sizes. Big and bright. Small and thin. They aren’t constant, only a few show up every minute, but it’s beautiful to watch.

There’s a strange sensation growing in his chest, something warm and fluttering and all-encompassing. You lean a little closer and the feeling grows. You must sense something–he’s never really been sure what his emotions feel like for you–because you look up at him. For a moment, you look confused.

Yoongi isn’t really sure how it happens, but what he does know is that suddenly, your face is centimeters from his own. He thinks that maybe someone bumped you and you took a step closer, but maybe that’s just his brain trying to fill in the gaps. He also knows that he’s the one that closes the space between you, leans in and brushes his lips against yours. It’s quick, a little impulsive, and truthfully, it feels a little forbidden.

He pulls away, not far enough to make it seem like he’s made a mistake, but enough that it gives you an out, if you want it. His brain starts making all these calculations–what he should do if you back away, what he should do if you slap him, what if you don’t react.

But then you whisper, “Why’d you stop?” and your hand slides up his chest to grip the lapel of his coat. You tug with a surprising amount of force, and when your lips connect, he feels himself soaring.

His entire world narrows to the points where your bodies connect. The firm touch of your knuckles against his shirt, the way your leg presses against his, but mostly the heat from your lips as he deepens the kiss. You fit against him perfectly, as if you were made for each other. He’d only kissed you that one time, but somehow, he’d missed it, missed you.

When you finally pull away, you stay close, pressed against his chest–though whether that’s fully your choice or because of the crowd tightening around you is anyone’s guess. He can feel your heart pounding, and when you shoot him a small smirk, he’s pretty sure that you can feel the pace of his own pulse. Your grip loosens on the collar of his coat and you smooth it down coolly before your arm wraps around his back. Without a word, you cozy in, pressed close as your gaze returns to the sky and to the stars.

For a moment, he stands there, unmoving, mind empty. But then it’s like he snaps out of a trance, and he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you tightly. His focus shifts to the shooting stars above, catching one just as it streaks across the sky. As he stands there, staring at the heavens and feeling your steady breathing, his mind begins to wander.

12 years, 7 months, and 3 days. He’d spent most of that time wondering what would have happened if he hadn’t left. If, after he’d kissed you at the night market, he’d been satisfied with whatever life had come after that. He’d been so scared back then, of losing control, of his life not being his own. But now, none of that matters.

Now, he’d give up almost anything to stay here, in this moment, in your arms.

okay so like... what do we think? how are we feeling? I was originally planning on having this be much longer, but I was so stressed out from grad school, I just wanted to get it out now. I'm so excited to hear your thoughts! and let me know if you want to see a part 2 (and if so, what you might want to see in it!!)

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #suga fic #suga fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #min yoongi fic #min yoongi fanfic #myg x reader #bts soulmate au #bts supernatural au #set me free

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kennahjune · 6 months

Text

Steddie

I’m joining the s3 steddie train :D

…

Steve was late. He was so late and so dead. Robin was going to kill him— he’d never make it out of Scoops Ahoy alive.

This was his thought process after dropping Will Lucas and Max off at Mikes. This was also his thought process the entirety of the way to Scoops while he shoved his way through the mall.

The moment he entered the small shop Robins eyes locked on him in a glare. Steve barely gave her a second before he was going to the back room to get ready for his shift.

He heard the back room door open behind him.

“You’re—“

“24 minutes late I know,” he said as calmly as he could while trying to relax his breathing.

“Yeah and—“

“And you get an extra 25 minutes for your break, yes Robin I know!”

Steve finally closed his employee cubby and turned to look at Robin. “Look. Im sorry I was so late today but Will, Lucas and Max are assholes when they’re being petty and they needed a ride to Mikes cause all the others were busy! I’ll take closing shift today to if you’re really that mad.”

Robin stared at him angrily from the doorway. “Fine.” She uncrossed her arms. “And yes, you will be taking the closing shift tonight. I have a study date with a friend that I can’t miss.”

“It’s summer vacation?”

“Shut up!”

Steve shrugged when the door closed.

He closed the door to his employee locker with a little more force than necessary. He had a migraine building and the bright, florescent lights of the mall weren’t helping in the slightest.

He walked out and began his shift.

…

Eddie wanted to enjoy his day off. Preferably by himself. But Gareth and Jeff decided that his personal life was their personal life. So here they were.

He had wanted to spend the day away from the mall, considering that that was where everyone seemed to be nowadays. But the guys were insistent.

So they were walking around. It wasn’t too bad, considering Eddie had gotten himself a new record and tape with his newest paycheck. They were sitting at the fountain when Gareth shouted right in Eddie’s ear:

“HOLY SHIT!”

Eddie just about punched him with how hard he jumped. Jeff spit out his Pepsi all over Eddie.

While Eddie was worrying about getting the sticky drink off of his skin, Gareth continued with; “is that HARRINGTON in Scoops?”

Well. Now he has Eddie’s attention.

Sure enough, just in Eddie’s line of sight, was Steve Harrington in a sailors uniform and a dorky hat.

A dorky hat that was soon snatched up by his current customer, Billy Hargrove.

Jeff clapped him on the shoulder and leaned over him to get a better view. “Is that Hargrove?”

“Yep.” Eddie popped the P.

“It looks like he’s messing with Harrington.”

“Yep.” Another pop on the P.

“And Harrington looks like he’s gonna fucking explode.”

Eddie agreed. Harrington was red in the face and not in the cute blushy-way he usually gets (don’t ask why Eddie knows that). He was talking back to Hargrove, probably something bitchy and sarcastic in typical Harrington-fashion based on the way Hargrove seemed to recoil for a moment before jumping back.

“Should we do something?” Gareth asked skeptically. Jeff shrugged where he was pressed against Eddie’s back.

“I’m going in.” Eddie stood and nearly knocked Jeff down in the process.

“Hang on—“

“Nope! Wish me luck, boys!” Eddie yelled over his shoulder while he dashed over. He heard them both get up and follow him.

…

Steve wanted to cry.

His head hurt so fucking bad and his back was killing him and he had ran into a shelf earlier and had a killer bruise on his arm and leg from it and everything was too fucking much.

Then, in all his asshole and dick glory, in came Billy Hargrove.

At this point, Steve would rather take another plate to the head then have to deal with his annoyingly aggravating voice. Hargrove came in, probably expecting Robin to be there, but got Steve instead. And honestly Steve would rather deal with him then leave Robin with him.

So he’s been enduring it, giving his own comments and comebacks but overall hating his life and just wanting to curl up and die.

Then his savior showed up. In all his black leather and chains, Eddie fucking Munson.

Hallelujah.

Hargrove seemed to back down the moment Munson showed up. Which wasn’t too strange considering that Munson supplied over half of Hawkins’ weed supply. Including Steve’s own for a while. He hasn’t bought in a while cause of the brat brigade.

But not the point.

Hargrove nodded to Munson. “Munson.”

Wow. Real cool, Billy. Steve held back a snicker.

“Heeyyy, Hargrove!” Munson cheerily greeted. But there was something about his smile that was off, to Steve. It seemed tighter than usual, his eyes not crinkling with the motion like normal. Don’t ask why Steve knows this.

Munson’s eyes seemed darker, too. Like he was angry. Maybe Hargrove didn’t pay him? Steve couldn’t bother to care with how bad his head started to pound.

He shouldn’t be at work with this migraine. He knows that. His doctor’s told him this multiple times. But he owes it to Robin for being late so much and he needs to prove to his dad that he can take care of himself.

“So what brings you here, Billy?” Munson asks casually, stepping farther into the shop. Steve seems to finally be forgotten about, and he places his head down on the counter. The cooled surface definitely helps with the spinning room.

He hears Hargrove say something back, but he isn’t paying attention anymore. His eyes are stating to go blurry and he really needs to sit down. But then Munson says something that catches his attention:

“Just leave Harrington alone, man. Last I checked he did nothing to you.”

What the hell? Steve wished he could lift his head and see what Munson was doing. What he looked like when he said that. If he looked as mean as he sounded.

Steve only lifts his head a few moments later when he feels a hand on his back. He shoots up quicker than he intends, and nearly falls back down if not for the hands still holding him up.

“Shit,” he grumbles quietly to himself, whining even quieter at the sudden rush of pain and the black dots in his vision.

“Easy there, your highness.” Munson.

Steve blinks slowly, letting Munson set him down in a booth. He doesn’t remember walking over but he’ll take it. He puts his head back down and intertwines his fingers behind his head. He groans quietly again, the pounding slowly receding.

“Hey man, is there something we could do? Do you need anything?” He heard Munson ask.

We? Steve wants to ask, but finds himself not caring. “Water, and my bag from the back please,” he rasps out. Talking makes the pounding worse.

He hears someone rush off to the back and a moment later a hands on his back again and is helping him sit up.

“Here ya go sweetheart.” Munson slides the glass of water and bag over to him.

Steve silently reaches into his bag and pulls out his small “to-go” med-kit. He carries it around mainly for the kids. Mike tends to be clumsier than he comes off as and Max is always trying out some new skateboarding tricks. From inside the kit he pulls out a pill bottle and swallows 2 with the water and goes for another 2 before a hand stops him.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to take more than 2.” This voice is new but familiar. Steve squints past the blurriness and makes out someone he recognizes from school; Gareth Emerson.

“4,” Steve manages past the lump in his throat. Munson, Emerson, and someone else Steve doesn’t quite know look at him. Munson continues to hold Steve’s hand on the table, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. It weirdly intimate but the comfort is very welcome.

“4 what?” The other guy asks.

“4 pills. I usually take 4.”

Munson and Emerson both wince. The third guy looks at him like he’s insane. Steve finally recognizes him as Jeff,… something. He actually never got his last name.

“Dude— are you trying to overdose!?”

Steve winced at the sudden loudness, whining quietly. Munson shushed Jeff and Steve heard him rush out an apology.

The bell over the door dinged at that moment, and Steve found himself face to face with Max, Mike, Will, Lucas, and— for some reason— Jonathan.

“Uh— hi?” Steve attempted for a greeting.

“‘Hi!?’” Mike yelled. “Hi yourself man! We called your walkie at least 4 times!! What the hell?”

“Are you ok? Why didn’t you answer?” Will asked in a much quieter tone.

Lucas and Max wasted no time before slotting themselves in the booth with Steve. Munson remained across from Steve, and Emerson and Jeff now hovered farther away, but Lucas slid right in next to Munson and Max next to Steve.

“What the fuck, Harrington?” Max demanded. But she clung to his shirt tightly.

“Language, Mayfield,” he reprimanded quietly.

Mike paused where he stood. “Why are you talking so quietly? Shit— do you have a migraine?”

Suddenly 4 pairs of little eyes were gazing at him with unmasked concern. Holy shit was this overwhelming.

“Guys—“

“Why didn’t you say that, Steve?” Lucas asked.

“Are you ok? How long has it been going on for? Asked Will.

“Why are even here if you’re not able to function properly?” Mike reprimanded in his own caring-ness.

Max clutched to him tighter. “Why aren’t you at home? You could’ve called in sick or something!”

“Shhh!” Mike shushed her.

“Don’t shush me—“

“Shut up!” He whisper shouted. “You have to be quiet and try to control your temperature while resting in a dark, quiet room to try and help with migraines. Pain killers help to but no more than 3.”

Everyone stared at him. He went a little pink under the sudden attention.

“Nancy gets migraines a lot from reading in the dark.”

Jonathan came over right then. Steve was suddenly overwhelmed by all the people surrounding him.

“Uhm—“

“Hey,” Munson called. Steve forgot about him for a good moment. “This is cute and all, but maybe we should not surround him? Poor boy looks like he’s gonna cry.”

Everyone turned to look at him. Tears had— in fact— sprung to his eyes.

“Sorry!” All the kids rushed out quietly at the same time. Max climbed out of the booth and Munson and Jonathan both assisted with helping Steve to the break room. Jeff and Emerson stayed with the kids, but Mike came with them since he seemed to know what he was doing better than the 3 of them.

On their way back to the room though, Steve’s legs nearly gave out from under him. Shit. It’s one of those days. Munson just barely managed to catch him under the armpits while Jonathan got him by the waist.

“Woah there, sweetheart.” Munson grunted.

“Careful, Steve,” Jonathan said quietly.

“Sorry. Spinning.” Steve exhaled shakily.

Mike came rushing back after realized they weren’t with him. “Damn. Spinning? Are you able to walk? Or are they gonna have to carry you?”

Jonathan looked up at the mention of having to carry Steve. “Yeah— I’m not able to carry him. I am so not strong enough for that.” He had the decency to look apologetic.

Munson chuckled quietly and the sound reverberated through his chest where Steve’s head was. It was soothing.

“Don’t worry Big Byers. I’ve got him no problem.”

Steve was given no warning before he was being picked up in a bridal carry. He winced sharply and laid his head on Munson’s shoulder. Jonathan whistled lowly from somewhere beside them and Steve blindly kicked his leg in his direction, scoring in kicking him in the arm. Jonathan snickered.

…

When Munson chased off Hargrove he didn’t expect for Harrington to all but collapse in on himself and try to fucking overdose on like 5 pain killers. He also hadn’t expected to be bombarded by 4 kids and 1 Jonathan Byers. Least of all did he expect to be carrying Harrington bridal style to the break room of Scoops Ahoy.

Somewhere behind him, Gareth turned the sign on the door to closed. Eddie silently thanked him.

The kid— who he vaguely remembers as Nancy Wheeler’s younger brother— opens the door and startles a half asleep Robin Buckley.

“Hello,” Jonathan throws her way before pulling a chair out for Eddie to sit on.

“Uh— hi? What the hell—“

Eddie takes the seat with Harrington in his lap. Robin looks dumbfounded.

“Migraine,” Jonathan helpfully supplies.

“Really, really bad migraine. Vertigo included. Full package tonight, folks.” Mike adds.

“Ok— um, is he ok? He doesn’t look ok. If it was so bad why didn’t he just call in sick?”

“That’s a good question,” Mike retorts quietly while rooting around in a freezer.

“What are you looking for”, Robin asks.

“Ice pack. The dumbass has everything in that first aid kit of his except a damn ice pack.”

“Language,” Harrington reprimanded quietly from where his cheek was against Eddie’s chest. Eddie chuckled quietly when Mike retorted with a half-assed “sorry”.

Eddie couldn’t help but admire the now sleeping Harrington in his lap. He bent in half like a shrimp, his knees just about to his chest, and his hands gripping tightly onto Eddie’s still-Pepsi-soaked t-shirt. But he looked so at peace while asleep. Like he hadn’t just had the worst migraine Eddie’s ever seen and wasn’t just about to pass out on his feet. Eddie smiled.

Mike comes over silently, managing to sneak up on Eddie and make him jump slightly and causing Harrington to whine. He’d been whining a lot today. And under “different circumstances” Eddie would’ve found it hot as fuck.

“Sorry,” Mike whispered. He seemed to be able mellow out a lot when he actually tried. He seemed like such an asshole out at the booth but now he seems quieter. These kids really cared about Harrington, huh?

“Here.” Jonathan helped him out and gently picked up Harrington’s head. Eddie caught Harrington actually kind of leaning into his touch. A strange but endearing friendship. Mike placed the ice pack— now wrapped in a cloth— on Eddie’s chest where Harrington’s head lays.

Harrington lays back down and is out like a light soon enough.

Eddie zoned out until there’s a very, very soft knock on the door. When he looks up, Jonathan is letting the other 3 kids in while Jeff and Gareth stand in the doorway.

“Is he ok?” Asks Jonathan’s little brother.

Jonathan nods and pats his head. “He’s ok, Will.”

The redhead walks over and takes a silent seat next to Eddie so she’s next to Harrington. She takes Harrington’s hand in hers and proceeds to just sit there and hold it.

“He’s ok, Max. Just a migraine,” the third kid, Lucas he thinks, reassures with a hand on Max’s shoulder.

“That’s what he said before. And then he was in the hospital.”

Woah, what?

“Hm?” Lucas looks at him.

Oh. He said that aloud.

“Wait what?” Robin asked quietly.

Jonathan’s whistled lowly. It seems to be a bit of a tic for him. “Yeah uh— funny story. Hargrove broke a plate over Steve’s head last year and nobody realized how bad it actually was until he passed out after claiming it was only a migraine.”

“He ended up in the hospital for like 2 weeks,” added Lucas.

“He needed several stitches on the side of his head.” Max unhappily supplied. Lucas squeezed her shoulder.

“It was a stage 4 concussion,” muttered Will and Mike put his head on his shoulder.

Eddie caught Gareth and Jeff’s eyes across the break room. Huh.

The Will kid came up to Eddie suddenly. “Thank you. For uh— helping with Steve. It means a lot to us. He means a lot to us.”

Mike, Max, and Lucas all nodded.

“Hang on,” Lucas piped up. “Who are you?”

…

So uh— set myself up for a part 2 there :’D

Part 2

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #eddie munson #robin buckley #will byers #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #corroded coffin #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie hcs #steddie fics #steddie #steve harrington whump #steve harrington gets killer migraines #the boy has 3 and counting concussions

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kteezy997 · 5 months

Text

The Candy Man- Part Two//W.W.

Warnings: smut, bathtub sex, curse words, some dirty talk, Willy wanting to fill reader with his cum

You couldn’t stop thinking about him. Your candy man, your Willy Wonka. You were convinced that his wonder-filled green eyes were burned into your memory forever. Your mind raced with images of his springy dark curls, his creamy pale skin, and his big cock that filled you to the brim. Your pussy ached just thinking about it.

It was a week to the day that he came knocking again. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when you opened your door to reveal Willy: brown top hat, purple coat, and the sweetest of smiles.

“I can’t believe it’s you.” you uttered dreamily. Your prayers had been answered: Willy had come back.

“Hey, y/n. I’m sorry to bother you.”

“Oh, you’re certainly not bothering me.”

Willy smiled kindly at you, then continued, “I have just been thinking about you, and I wonder if maybe what happened was wrong. I mean, it was absolutely wonderful, but you are a married woman. I would hate for your husband to find out-"

You cut him off as he was speaking, “Don’t worry, Willy. He will never know. It’s our little secret.”

“Oh,” he nodded, “alright then. That’s great. Um,” he looked down at his boots, shyly, “do you mind if I come in? There was something else I wanted to ask you.”

“Oh yes, of course, come in!” you said, maybe a little too enthusiastically, and you stepped aside, letting him by.

Willy walked over to the couch, rubbing his cold hands together. He did look rather cute with his rosy cheeks and slightly pink nose from the briskness outside. “You really should stay inside today, it’s too cold for you to be out there, y/n.” he said.

You blushed at his sweet words, “Should I get you some hot tea to warm you up? Or maybe some coffee?”

“No, no, I really don’t want to trouble you.” he insisted, “Come, sit with me if you would?”

You obliged him, and sat down next to him.

"Look, the real reason that I came by is to ask you if...it was okay, what I did? Was it any good?" Willy cleared his throat, apprehensively, "Did I do a good job?"

You laughed and touched his hand, "Yes, you did. I came twice, Willy. You were a natural. Better than my husband, might I add. And I've been having sex with him for years now. Well, not hardly at all lately, but that's neither here nor there." you shrugged.

"It's just that it was my first time, and I wanted to be sure that you enjoyed it as much as I did." his cheeks became a little bit flushed again, but it was not from the cold this time.

"I definitely did, Willy." you said sincerely, intertwining your fingers with his.

He softly squeezed your hand and nonchalantly looked over to the fireplace area. He shuddered ever so slightly, "That rug."

"Does it do things to you like it does to me? The memory?" you purred as you leaned in close to his ear with an idea creeping into your mind. You bit your lip.

"Yea-yeah, it does. I remember exactly what you looked like laying on that rug.” he turned to look in your eyes. The tension was palpable as your faces were just a few inches apart. “I can't get you out of my head, y/n."

"Ya know, I was about to draw a bath for myself before you came knocking, would you like to get in with me?"

"More than anything." Willy blurted out without hesitation.

.......

Willy had gotten into the hot water first, and you straddled his lap. With the both of you in the tub, the water level was dangerously high. But even if it were to spill onto the bathroom floor, you didn't notice. You were ravaging his lips, and he ran his wet hands all over your body, above and under the water.

Steam rose up from the water, creating a sweltering atmosphere. Your bodies were flushed.

You sank down onto his hard cock, and he rutted up into you. You cried out in pleasure as it slid all the way in. Your breasts bounced, tapping the surface of water and splashing in Willy's face. You grabbed his cheeks and kissed him sloppily as you fucked.

You did your best to grind your hips and keep up with him, but it was a losing battle. You were quickly brought to an orgasm with how fast he was thrusting up into you.

You whimpered as your body went limp, but Willy put his arms around you, and continued to pump his cock in and out. "Oh my God! Willy…Willy Wonka!" you cried, having never felt so good in all your life.

"I gonna come, y/n." he stuttered as his pace slowed and he thrusts became sloppy. He grabbed handfuls of your ass, and gave you a few more strokes as he kissed your face. He groaned in a huff, and you felt his cum filling your pussy.

You hugged him tightly, just needing to be close to him. Willy nuzzled into your neck and you rested your chin on his head. You put your hand on the back of his head, his curls at the nape of his neck were soaked as you pet them.

He looked up at you, his arms still linked around your body, "Kiss me?"

You leaned in and smashed your lips to his, "Mmm." you moaned happily against his mouth. You pulled away and he snuck in another peck to your swollen lips. You put your hands on either side of his chiseled cheekbones, "My angel candy man, dropped on my doorstep, so yummy and cute, with a cock made by the devil." you grinned, kissing him again. You couldn’t get enough. He was addictive like chocolate.

Willy chuckled, "I don't want to be done yet. Need to fill you with more of my cream.”

"Ugh, yes, treat me like one of your fine chocolates, Willy. Fill me, I want it.” you begged, moaning into his lips in another eager kiss.

"Turn over, please?" he asked, in between pecks, puppy dog eyes in full effect.

You couldn't deny his request. He was all you wanted, all you thought about and longed for, and you were going to take him as long as you wanted, as long as he was there. You nodded, swirling yourself in the water so your back was to him. Willy pushed you forward, careful to keep your head above water, and he pulled your hips up. With your ass to the surface and facing him, he held your waist, and slid his dripping wet cock inside you again.

"Ah!" you moaned as he thrusted fast, splashing the water and making it slosh out on the floor. The bathroom was filled with the loud splashing noises he created. You braced yourself on the bottom of the tub with your hands. The bath water sprinkled your face and hair with warm droplets as you took Willy's cock over and over.

After a moment, he let out a huff and you felt him release inside you once more. "Wheeew, sorry y/n. It may take more practice for me to last longer." his breathing was uneven as he spoke. He leaned over your back to leave a kiss on top of your head.

"No," you panted, "it's alright, it was amazing. You bring me more chocolate next week and we’ll practice some more.”

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @chalametbich

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #wonka #wonka 2023 #wonka movie

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year

Note

hi!! i’m a big wuss and cry at least twice a week. could i possibly request a ghost x reader where reader is new to the task force and everyone but ghost has warmed up to them and really enjoys their bubbly presence? ghost says something kinda mean, reader cries, and then goes quiet for a few days/a week. everyone notices the change in their personality and gets confused until ghost makes it right <3

Thanks for this request!!🙃🩷 same same tho.

We All Have Our Demons

Simon Riley x Reader

Warnings: mentions of crying, swearing, angst w happy ending

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were recently just introduced to the 141 as the newest member. Your sniper skills were top tier, and Price had jumped at the opportunity to make you a part of his team.

The boys on the team had instantly taken a liking to you. You were a welcome addition to the team, and your presence alone helped shift the mood of the team tremendously.

Everyone on the team had been incredibly welcoming to you, all except Ghost. He'd been standoffish since you'd arrived, only giving you a nod when you'd introduced yourself. You had originally just chalked it up to him being weary if he could trust you. Which you more than understood, so while you kept your distance, you still made it a point to be nice to him.

He was always very curt and professional, never letting you hold a conversation with him, but that did not stop you from trying.

You'd always offer to help with various tasks, picked up coffee for him just the way he liked, and on multiple occasions had tried striking up conversations with him, to no avail.

One night, you'd decided you were going to try and talk with him. You weren't used to someone being so standoffish toward you, and wanted to know what you could've done wrong.

Making your way into the weapons rooms, you popped your head in to address your superior.

"Lieutenant?" You approached him with a wide smile.

He regarded you with clear disinterest and mumbled out a "What is it, Sargeant."

"I just wanted to check in with you, sir. I was wondering if perhaps.. I'd done something wrong?" Your hands started to grow sweaty, and you nervously rubbed them on your thighs.

He turned back to his weapon. "Wrong?"

"You just.. seem to not like me, and I'm not sure what I could've done to offend you."

"Like you? It's not my job to like you, and this isn't the place for annoying shit such as friendships. If that's what you're looking for, perhaps you should've looked to do any other field than this one, Y/N." Ghost sputtered, his eyes narrowing at you as he slammed his gun down in frustration.

Your mouth parted slightly, shock washing over you at his words. You knew he was a tough shell to crack, but you'd never thought he'd be so outwardly mean.

"Of course, sir. Sorry to bother you." You muttered meekly, turning to walk to the door. You blinked away tears, and aggressively wiped them from your eyes, not wanting anyone to see you cry.

For the next few days, you'd been rather quiet and kept to yourself. The boys would constantly come up and ask you to join them at the pub or for spar sessions, but you'd always politely decline.

Ghosts words had sunk deep, creating a wound you weren't sure how to heal. Were you really that annoying? Did everyone on base feel that way about you? The words ate and ate at you, and you'd ultimately decided to keep to yourself so as not to bother anyone around you. Perhaps Ghost was right. You weren't here to make friends.

The boys grew concerned, your normally bubbly attitude was gone, and they were lucky if they could even get a few words out of you.

"Anybody know what's going on with Y/N? They have been unusually quiet lately, and I'm worried about them." Soap had asked, sitting down to eat with Gaz and Ghost.

"I've tried talking to them a few times but can barely hold a conversation. You didn't hear it from me, but it was rumored that they left the weapons room crying Friday night." Gaz spoke, a sad smile forming on his lips.

Ghosts ears perked up at this information. You were with him in the weapons room Friday night. You left crying? Why would you have left- Oh. A wave of guilt came washing over him as he realized what had you so upset.

He truly didn't mean to make you upset. He was so used to keeping himself protected. He was afraid to let anyone else in. Then you came in with your bubbly attitude, and regardless of how much he tried to push you away, you still showed interest in him. He was so scared to open himself up to you, this ray of sunshine, and get himself hurt. He couldn't take more hurt in his life.

Shaking his head of his thoughts, he went to go and find you.

You were sitting in the courtyard watching the night sky. Your mind was racing with negative thoughts that you couldn't seem to push away. Deciding to turn in early for the night, you moved to stand when you heard a voice call your name. You turned around and were met face to face with Ghost.

"Oh, Lieutenant. Didn't know you were out here. Don't mind me, I was just leaving." You nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and made for the entrance.

"Wait." Ghosts voice halted your movements. "I uh, I wanted to talk."

You turned to him, tucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, and nodded your head slowly.

Ghost looked to the ground for a moment before speaking. "I'm.. not exactly a guy known for extending warm welcomes."

You swallowed thickly, expecting him to continue, but he didn't.

"It's alright, sir. I understand." You said softly.

Ghost lifted his eyes from the grass to meet your warm ones. He felt his heart palpitate from the way you were looking at him. You'd looked so innocent to him.

"No. It's not. I don't give my trust out easily, not to anyone. But that's no excuse to treat you as I did." You could tell Simon was doing his best to apologize, in his own way.

"We all have our demons, sir. I can't fault you for protecting yourself and the team. But I assure you I have nothing but good intentions." You assured him, not breaking eye contact.

"I know." He nodded, his eyes shifting back to the ground beneath him. There was something about the way you looked at him. It made him feel things he'd never felt before. You were such a warm person, and he didn't know how to take you.

"Well, if that's all, I'll leave you to your night, Ghost." You turned to make your way out again, stopping when you heard him speak once more.

"Simon."

"Sorry?"

"My name, it's Simon." He lifted his eyes to yours, and held your gaze.

Your eyes lit up from the small bit of information he'd given you. It wasn't much, but it was a sign he was willing to try opening up to you.

"It's nice to meet you, Simon." You giggled, a vibrant smile covering your face.

He nodded, thankful his mask was covering the light pink tint that was forming on his cheeks.

"Theres... there's a coffee shop up the road. Usually, go to it every now and then. Good coffee there." He fumbled out, heart stammering in his chest. "Be my treat. It's the least I can do for being an arse."

"I would love that, Simon." You were practically beaming. You couldn't stop saying his name, and he sure wasn't complaining. He quite liked the way it sounded coming from your lips.

He held out his arm to you, and you gladly linked your arm in his. "Shall we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Wasn't too proud of this one, tbh I rewrote it quite a few times.

Was kind of thinking of making this a 2 parter?

#cod imagine #simon riley imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 x reader #simon riley angst #ghost imagine #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you

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lzaisv · 7 months

Text

WRIOTHESLEY . NIGHT SHIFT

sypnosis; being clumsy isn't easy. doing a poor performance due to how you lack skill at work only leads to you earning less credit coupons, which is a result of your week only having one day off. wriothesley, who adores you so much, offers to help you earn credit coupons.

afab!reader

NSFW UNDER THE CUT ; MINORS DNI !

Wriothesley who adores you so much.

Ever since he first saw you in the infirmary, sitting all alone and a bruise on your wrist, you caught his attention right away.

He thought that Sigewinne might've been getting supplies for your wound, and you seemed rather lonely so he approached you and asked about your wound.

When he talked to you, it came to his surprise that your clumsiness got you accidentally tripping and your wrist hit on one of those super sharp areas of a nearby pipe. You explained to him how you couldn't really earn credit coupons that well since you were not used to this environment, and you told him how you were basically really clumsy, too, you were really nervous talking to him back then since you've heard a lot about how he was a cold and mysterious man, but somehow, he managed to change the way you perceive him.

Now, you saw him as a caring man that had a strong sense of responsibility, welcoming rather, too. He radiated an aura that let you feel safe and comforted by him. The light jokes and sarcasm he had made you feel better.

Since that day from the infirmary, Wriothesley notes to himself about your schedule and he always tries to be there to see you. Initiating small talk that allowed you two to be closer. And everyday, he would see you working hard on your task, only skipping work at least once every week. So when Wriothesley figured out that you struggled earning credit coupons, he proposed a way to let you earn more coupons. He suggested that you could help him out with something in his office, and you'd earn credit coupons in return.

You were honestly tired from working almost everyday a week, so you agreed. You needed those credit coupons.

So the following day, you went to his office at the exact time he instructed you to come. It was rather late at night, and most of the inmates were asleep already. You thought the task he had stored for you was things he doesn't have time for like cleaning his office, organizing paperworks neatly, just those stuff.

But you were wrong.

Somehow, you're here with your chest facing down on his desk, your hands handcuffed behind you, a mirror infront of you, and your pussy being wrecked from behind by his grace.

“ah ─! shit.. tighter than expected.” wriothesley groaned from behind, his cock slowly entering your intimate area, your eyes shutting tight from the stinging pain of him slowly entering you. He was hung, after all. He only entered half of his length inside you, but you couldn't help but tear up. “it hurts, your grace.” you whimpered, you don't know how much you could take, he wasn't even fully inside yet.

“i'm sure you could take it all, fuuuuck, your pretty pussy's clenching down on me.” he scoffed, his hands placed down on your waist, tracing your curves with his thumb. “It's like it doesn't wanna let go of me.” Wriothesley had a sly grin on his face, trying to keep his cool and not just enter you in one go. He was trying his best not to lose his self control.

But once he's fully entered you, now this is a whole different level.

Once he was fully inside you, wriothesley seriously could not stop himself anymore. “'m sorry, princess. I'll give you extra coupons for this.” he warned you, and that got you confused, “h-huh? Wha ─!” your eyes widened, a gasp coming out of your mouth as he started ramming his cock inside your cunt with no stopping. He moved quickly, and still managed to reach the deepest parts of your area that you never thought would be possible to reach.

Your head fell on his desk, tears forming from your lower lash line, and your fists clenching as you tried to protest, but you couldn't. Only whines and moans came out of your mouth, and you were going dumb so fast.

“fucking─ ngh, gorgeous.” he mumbled in between his low moans. He just adored you. Ever since you stepped foot in the fortress of meropide, that was the first time he was thankful a person even committed a crime. He couldn't stop looking at you, visiting the cafeteria almost everyday just to sit right next to you and ask you about your day. He loved listening to you ramble on about your day, and whenever you mentioned how tiring the jobs were, he would speak with the guards who were there to supervise you with your task to lessen the work for you so you wouldn't have to be so worn out everyday.

These little gestures of affection were his way of saying he wanted you. And to have you here on his desk, all being fucked dumb, he couldn't be even more thankful to the archons above.

“you don't know how long I fucking waited for this.” he whispered in your ear, yet his sharp thrusts where uninterrupted. Although, he was aware you couldn't even think as of now and just went dumb on him so easily. “going dumb already on me, angel? How cute.” he praised you, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“'m gonna ─! 'm gonna cum, wrio ─ !!” a high pitched moan came out of you from your nonsense babbles and whimpers. Pleasure was overtaking your brain, all your senses going stupid.

“hnghhh, go on, milk my cock.” he insisted, his movement becoming sloppier, and he could tell that he himself was close too. He was aware he shouldn't cum inside you, with the possibility of even knocking you up, he could ruin your life.

“inside, please.” you whined at him, turning your head back on him, drowsy eyes looking at him, begging for him to cum inside you, and who was he to refuse such an offer? That was enough to push him to the edge, and after one last thrust, he spilled his load inside you as you orgasmed, filling you up to the brim, causing your eyes to roll back to your skull.

Immense pleasure washed on your brain, seeing stars, and it felt like a warm embrace, enveloping you with a sense of contentment.

Wriothesley pulled out after cumming inside you, seeing his cum overflow from your sweet pussy, he couldn't help but use his fingers to stop his load from coming out of you, he just adored you.

“aren't you just the cutest? as promised, I'll give you 5,000 credit coupons for this.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #wriothesley #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader

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