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yeonzzzn · 3 months

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♠️off limits: sim jaeyun

part one of the off limits trilogy

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 19.6k

synopsis: your older brother has always told you “no boys” and his friends “sister is off limits”, which always worked…until everyone comes back home from college and you see how grown up his best friend has become…

genre: friends to lovers, older brothers best friend!au, forbidden love, eventual smut.

warnings: swearing, masturbating, fingering, reader being called a “bad girl” once, alcohol, blood mentions, sex in a hot tub, unprotective sex, oral (m. receiving), dom!jake, hair pulling, cum eating, MINORS DNI! lemme know if i skipped anything ♡

˗ˏˋseries spotify playlist´ˎ˗

a/n: jake is so older brother best friend coded I couldn’t help myself

✰ this is part one to this series, please see the masterlist under the title for parts two-three. ✰

The last thing you expected was your older asking if you were planning to head home during the last bit of your winter break.

You raised your brow at the texts from your brother, thumbs hovering over the keyboard debating how to let him down easily in the nicest way possible that you rather lounge around in your dorm room in your PJs for the last two weeks.

You sighed and fell back on your bed, “Guess I should start packing then.”

You knew Jay was right, it’s been roughly a year since the two of you were back at home at the same time. And even when both were at home, one was always going out and never really stayed home.

Maybe spending the next two weeks at home wasn't such a bad idea. Spend some quality time with your family.

Or so you thought until you walked into your parents' house with your duffle bag and backpack in your hands staring into the living room and seeing not just your brother, but his three best friends.

The same three best friends he grew up with who all followed him to the same college after high school graduation. Ones you haven’t seen in like four years.

You’re only a year younger than your brother and two of the friends while two years younger than the oldest one in their little circle.

You basically grew up with them as well, since you were just a grade below them.

They haven’t even noticed you arrived yet. Your parents weren’t even home from their jobs yet.

The four boys sat on the couch, their hands going a hundred miles per hour on the Nintendo Switch controllers going head to head in smash bros.

They all started screaming as one took the rest out.

You dropped your bags to the floor, clearing your throat to show your presence.

Jay was the first to turn around, his smile growing all the more wider seeing you. Jay dropped the controller onto the coffee table, stepped on the couch, and jumped over the back of it, “Hey stink!”

You cringe at the nickname he continues to call you even as an adult. He wraps his arms tightly around you, squeezing you.

You hug your brother back, tapping his back, “Jay, you can let go now.”

As Jay steps to the side, his three friends fully come into your view, all their eyes on you.

You tried hard to not drop your jaw at the three of them.

“Hey, Y/N!” all three of them said in sync.

Heeseung fully turned his body around, leaning on the back of the couch, “You’ve sure grown up a lot since the last time I saw you.”

Heeseung stood up, stepping over the couch the same way your brother did, rushing up to you and squeezing you just as tightly.

Sunghoon was next at your side, pulling you into a small hug, “It’s been what? Like four years?”

You nodded, “It has been a while, hasn’t it guys?”

“Jake, what are you doing?” Jay called him, “Come say hi too, don’t be rude.”

Jake stood from the couch, his eyes locking with yours, and didn’t leave them until he was in front of you, arms stretched out, “Was just saving the best hug for last.”

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his waist, “Haven’t changed at all, have ya Jake?”

He chuckled, his heart beating loudly in your ears as you rested your head on his chest.

Jake pulled away from you, taking a step back, “I’ve changed!”

Jay scoffed, “Right. We’ll say that.”

“Most that has changed is your grades are a bit better than high school.” Sunghoon teased, placing a hand on his best friend.

“Bro,” Jake playfully shoved him, “I’ve grown up a lot!”

Oh yes, that he did.

All of them have. It’s only been four years, but each of them has grown up. They went from those nerdy boys you would scrunch your nose at saying they have cooties while holding your index fingers into an x, to the most good-looking men you’ve ever seen.

Four years feels like it’s been a long time, mostly with how they are in front of you right now.

You’re brought out of your thoughts, as Jay sets a hand on your shoulder, “Let’s get back to playing Smash Bros and let Y/N rest, she drove longer than we did.”

It was true, you drove three hours to get back home while they only had an hour. You were overdue for a nap.

Jake waited for you to glance over at Jay before eyeing you up and down. You’ve sure grown up a lot too in the last four years. He was expecting the same girl from all those years ago, oh but he was wrong.

Jake eyeing you down didn’t go unnoticed by his friends, mostly Jay who was shooting darts into Jake’s soul.

“Oh also!” You said as you picked up your bags, “How long are you three staying here today?”

Sunghoon wrapped his arms around Heeseung and Jake’s necks and pulled them in, “We are here the whole two weeks.”

You raised a brow, confused. Of course, they are going to be in town the whole time, “I meant here at the house,” you said pointing your index finger to the floor, “Aren’t you staying with your families while you’re in town?”

Heeseung chuckled, “Nah, we are staying here, that’s what Hoon meant by being here.”

You glanced at your brother, a smirk on his face, “Nice to know I was told.” You glared at him.

Jay shrugged, “It was last minute.”

“We will go see our families, don’t worry,” Sunghoon smiled, “I have to see my little sister, or else she’ll kill me for not coming back home.”

You glanced between the four of them before deciding it wasn’t worth thinking about at the moment, you needed a nap, “Whatever, I am taking my nap.”

The three boys turned around heading back to the couch, Jake took one last look at you as you headed for the stairs, Jay catching him once again looking, Jake quickly turned back around and placed himself back on the couch.

Jay quickly caught your arm before you were too far up the stairs. You turned and looked at him, giving him your nastiest side eye, “What corn lover?”

“The rule still stands.”

You raised a brow, “What rule?”

Jay tilted his head at you, “Really?”

You gave him a confused look, trying to read his mind. The gears in your brain turned until it finally clicked.

“You mean the rule from when we were kids?”

He nodded, “No boys.”

You rolled your eyes, “As if, they still have just as many cooties as they did four years ago.”

Jay nodded, “Good. Keep it that way. Get rest, I’ll come to wake you when mom and dad get home. We are barbecuing tonight. I’m grilling.”

Your mouth was already watering thinking about your big brother's cooking. The one major con of going to a college further away was missing his cooking.

You continued your journey up the stairs and into your childhood room, seeing that your parents left everything the same as it was when you left it. Dropping into your bed, face first into the pillow, sleep finds you quickly.

Jay dropped himself back on the couch, picking up the switch controller, “Alright douche bags, let’s get this party back in motion.”

Everyone grabbed their controllers except Jake, who had his nose in his phone and searched for your Instagram account from Jay’s account, curiously stalking through your account.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Jay, who glanced over at Jake’s phone, catching him staring at the recent selfie you posted a week ago.

“Sim Jaeyun.” Jake jumped at his government name being called so sternly by his hyung.

“Jesus Christ, what?” Jake breathed out, his hand flying to his chest, his heart rate increasing, “You scared the shit out of me.”

Jay glanced back down at his phone, bringing realization to Jake causing him to quickly lock his phone.

Heeseung and Sunghoon also had their eyes on Jake. He looked between the three of them, raising a brow, and glared at them, “What?”

Heeseung slowly faced back to the TV, “I ain’t saying anything.”

“I am,” Sunghoon chimed in, “We all saw how you eyed her.”

Jake quickly shook his head, realizing the situation he got put in, “It’s not like that! She just grew up a lot more than I was expecting.”

That wasn’t helping Jake’s case. Jay was just getting more pissed.

“Dude,” Jay narrowed his eyes, “That’s my little sister.”

“Who is also like a little sister to us,” Heeseung added in.

“Who passed you the baton?” Jake groaned, finger pointing at Heeseung and eyes looking between all his best friends, “Why are you all on my ass?”

“Off limits.” Jay said, bringing in the old rule from childhood, “Nothing has changed.”

Jake rolled his eyes, slouching into the couch, “Obviously! Trust me, I am not interested, like a little sister, remember?”

“Good. Goes for all three of you, she’s off limits.”

The conversation ended there. The last thing Jay needed was having to pull any of his friends off you. He was way too protective of you and knew his friends way too well, mostly after the sex demons they became after graduating. It was already bad enough in high school, but with the freedom college gave the four of them along with the parties and of course, females…

Jay had to protect you at all costs. And he would always stand by it.

—

Jake’s hands trembled as he stood in front of your bedroom door. He’s stood by your door many times as a child growing up, always kicking your door open and running away with Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon, before you could shout at them for annoying you.

But obviously, you all weren’t children anymore. So why was Jake so scared to simply knock on your door?

Jay decided to start grilling before your parents got home so that it would be ready or almost ready by the time they walked in.

Your parents arrived just at the right time as the steak was almost done grilling.

The three boys sat at the picnic table outside by the portal heater and set up the plates while Jay stood by the grill, grilling away.

Your parents hugged each of the boys, welcoming them into their home like old times.

“Oh, where is Y/N? Jongseong?” your mother asked sweetly, placing a kiss on his cheek, “I saw her car outside.”

“She’s napping,” Jay said, turning over the steaks, “Everything is ready, so someone should go wake her.”

Heeseung and Sunghoon were already way too busy talking to your dad to notice what Jay said, your mother ultimately decided she’ll go wake you.

“Mom! No no no!” Jay quickly spat, “Go sit down, you just got off work, I’ll make one of the boys do it.”

Your mother sweetly smiled, “Are you sure? I can do it.”

Jake quickly stood from the table, placing a hand on her shoulder, “I’ll go get her, Mrs. Park, please sit.”

She quickly pulled Jake into another hug, “Such a sweet boy like always!”

And that’s how he found himself at your door. The sounds of the laughter of his friends and basically his second family echo from the background as he continues to hover his trembling fist at your door.

“Come on, Sim…” he whispered, trying to hype himself up, “She’s the same girl you grew up with.”

Jake’s knuckles made contact with the wooden door, leaning himself closer to listen for any movements.

Nothing.

He knocked again but a bit louder, “Y/N?” silence. Another knock, “Hey, Y/N?”

There was shuffling on the other side, the door opening too quickly. You and Jake were now face to face, barely inches apart.

Oh lord was Jake’s heart racing.

You were in your favorite pair of sweatpants and an old tee shirt back from high school with the school's logo on it. Your hair was slightly messy from sleeping and had on the same pair of glasses you wore growing up.

Jake was weak. He always loved your glasses growing up. Thinking they shaped your face nicely and made you look really cute. Of course, he’d never tell you this, he just always made fun of you like the other boys did.

Jake quickly stepped back, giving you space.

You yawned and did a small stretch, “What’s up?”

“Umm,” Jake quickly looked away from you, too scared you’d see how his heart was practically bursting through his chest, “Your parents are home, and dinner is ready.”

Whatever tiredness you once felt was out the window at the mention of Jay’s dinner.

“Okay! Let me change and I’ll be downstairs.” You closed the door quickly, not wanting to miss a second away from the delicious dinner.

Jake made his way back down the stairs and outside, shoving his hands into his jacket pocket as he sat back down.

Jay raised a brow, “My sister?”

Jake shrugged, “She’s coming. Said she was going to change.”

As if on cue, you slid open the glass door, quickly embracing your mother.

You wrap your arms around her from behind, surprising her.

“Hello, mom!”

She quickly turned around to hug you properly, “Oh my sweet girl! I’ve missed you!”

You smile, the familiar smell of her rose perfume fills your nose, “I’ve missed you too momma.”

“Jongseong, come over here too!” your mother waved your brother over, pulling the both of you into a tight hug, “It’s been so long since I have had both my children home. I’m so happy you’re here:”

Jake and the others smiled at you three.

Once your mother released you from her arms, Jay sat down across from Jake, leaving you a spot between him and your mother.

Before sitting down you hugged your father and gave a wave to Heeseung and Sunghoon.

“Good to see you back to the land of the living,” Heeseung teased, “We thought you’d died.”

You roll your eyes, “Haha, very funny.”

Jake took a moment to take in your new outfit. Hair was nicely brushed, tight skinny jeans with rips at the knees, and a baby blue long-sleeve shirt that hugged your torso snug, perfectly shaping your breasts. His eyes not leaving you until you sit down, and then his eyes go to his plate of food.

Jay glances at his best friend, eyes shifting to you, then back at him.

“We can finally eat now that Y/N decided to grace us with her presence,” Jake teased, finally digging into his food. God he was blessed to have Jay as one of his best friends.

You reached under the table and kicked Jake’s shin, him only laughing more than before.

“Just like old times! You kids never change!” your father smiled, lifting his beer for a cheer.

—

Jake tossed and turned, eventually ending up on his back staring up at the ceiling.

The thoughts of the outfit you wore earlier tainted his mind. The way your clothes perfectly shaped your body.

Jake quietly covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes in hopes it would take the thoughts out of his head. “She’s your best friend's younger sister, what are you doing?”

He sat up in bed, throwing the blankets off him, and carefully crawled out from the bottom bunk of the bed, trying to not make too much movement to disturb the sleeping Sunghoon above him.

Heeseung was fast asleep on the twin-sized bed across from him, small snores escaping his lips.

Jake took one last look around the room before carefully tip-toeing out.

Jake remembers when Jay announced to them that his parents were buying a bunk bed to add into the spare room so that each of them had a proper place to sleep besides sharing the twin-sized bed or having an air mattress.

Mostly after the four of them got into middle school, no one wanted to share a bed anymore.

It was a blessing, even more of a blessing that the Park’s kept the spare room just the same after all these years.

Jake opened and closed the door with such grace praying to be quiet enough to not wake anyone. Carefully walking down the hallway, stopping at the foot of the stairs, swearing he heard something, looking up them.

The moonlight gave enough light to show how empty the upstairs was, Jake shrugged off the noise he heard and went to the kitchen.

You quietly opened your door, making sure to not disturb any sleeping body, specifically your parents since they needed to be up early for another full day of work.

The nap you took earlier in the day completely messed up your night's rest. You tossed and turned in your bed hoping for sleep to find you but never did. Hoping for a few bites of the leftover barbecue and some water will help you chase the sheep.

You tip-toed to the stairs, carefully and slowly making your way down them, eyeing down the hallway as you made your way to the kitchen, making sure no one else was awake.

You turned the corner of the kitchen, fingers flipping the light switch on. Once the lights came on, your heart nearly dropped to your stomach.

You swore you jumped ten feet in the air, “Oh sweet god, what the fuck Jake?!?” you whispered loudly.

What the fuck indeed.

Jake was pressed against the counter, the water bottle he once held in his hand was now on the floor and the liquid completely covered him.

He took a few deep breaths, hand clenching his now wet shirt, feeling his heartbeat.

“You scared the shit out of me, Y/N.”

You raised a brow at him, “I scared you? I nearly had a heart attack!”

Jake relaxed against the counter, his hands now gripping the counter behind him, “That makes two of us.”

You ran your hands down your face, taking a deep breath in, before dropping your arms back at your side, “Why are you even up?”

Jake’s face was glued to you, his eyes turning dark.

You just looked at him, “What?” It wasn’t until you crossed your arms that you realized what he was staring at.

You remembered what you were wearing. Sweatpants that hung loosely at your hips and a black sports bra.

Jake didn’t notice it at first, mostly not after the surprise of you scaring him half to death, but after he finally looked at you is when he noticed.

The way your breasts were exposed and practically spilling out of the top of your sports bra, how loosely your sweatpants hang. Oh, the thoughts running through his head.

The way all he would have to do is barely slip his fingers at the fabric of your pants to remove them from your hips. The access his lips would have to your tits as he slid his against your heat.

Jake didn’t even realize how hard he was staring at you, looking like a meal he could easily eat up.

Normally you’d run out of the kitchen and back up the stairs full of embarrassment, but something about the way Jake was looking at you made your knees weak.

Your body moved on its own, walking closer to him. His hands gripped the counter, knuckles turning white and his heart rate accelerating. It wasn’t until you were a couple of inches away from him that he realized what was happening.

You could easily see the tint in his shorts growing. All it took for him to see you like this to get so hard?

Jake watched as your eyes dropped to his crotch, and slowly made eye contact with him.

Oh how hard it was for him to keep his hands to himself.

“Jake,” you whispered. You, yourself, want to put your hands on him.

From the moment you saw him, Sunghoon, and Heeseung in the living room earlier this afternoon, you’ve had to admit you were attracted to them, especially Jake. He was no longer the icky boy you grew up with. He’s a man, looking at you like a woman, not the little girl you once were.

You whisper his name again, moving your hand to touch his bicep, but stopping halfway.

“Y/N, touch me and I can’t promise to behave myself.” His Aussie came out thicker in that moment, filled with lust and want.

You wanted to test his boundaries and see if he would actually misbehave.

Your cold fingers brushed his bicep, and that’s all it took for his hands to fly to your hips, switching positions and pinning you against the counter, his hard length now pressed to your aching core, hands gripping your hips.

Jake felt as if he was on autopilot, moving against you as if it were second nature to him.

Jake’s mind has been going wild since the moment you walked through the front door.

He wasn’t expecting the woman he had pressed to his body.

Jake was still expecting the little girl he used to tease. The little girl he would gang up on with his friends. The little girl he would scrunch his nose at when he’d see you in the halls at school as you’d pass by him. The little girl Jay would rant about if another boy looked at you in a romantic way. The little nerdy girl who got straight A’s and never skipped a day of school in your life even if you were sick.

Jake never expected to see you so grown. To see how your body changed and filled in. The way you style your hair and the taste of fashion you have now. How your tits naturally fall and how your ass fits so perfectly in any pants you’ve worn today.

Oh, Jake was a mess. And oh how badly he wanted to make a mess out of you.

You kept your eyes locked with Jake’s, honestly loving how seen you felt by him right now.

“Thought you were going to behave?” you whispered, your hands now gripping the counter behind you.

“I told you the consequences of your actions if you’d touch me, and here we are.”

You let a small laugh leave your lips, rolling your hips against him.

Jake groaned, resting his forehead against yours, grinding himself back onto you, “What are you trying to do here, Y/N?”

You bit your lips, trying to hold back the sounds threatening to escape your mouth from the pleasure of his dick just rubbing against you.

“Are you trying to get me in trouble with your brother? Huh?” Jake whispered, dropping his head to the side of yours, lips brushing against your ear, rolling his hips a bit harder than the last, “He’s already on my ass from the way I’ve been eye fucking you today.”

Your knees buckled, Jake not letting your weight drop with the grip he has on your hips.

“You’re being such a bad girl right now, Y/N, disobeying your brother's wishes so easily just to get a feel of my dick.”

Your brain was going fuzzy at his words, trying to focus on the sound of his breathing to keep you in reality.

Jake’s hands drop down to your ass, squeezing the fat as he thrust his hips against you. Your breath hitched at his touch, knees buckling again.

You wanted to feel his hands everywhere, to feel his lips on yours and against your skin.

You turn your head towards him, wanting to find his lips, only to be met with his hands leaving your ass, body no longer pressed against yours and him taking a couple of steps away from you.

Jake’s chest raised and fell with each deep breath he took, eyes glued to the floor as he ran his fingers through his dark hair.

“We can’t be doing this,” he finally said between deep breaths.

No matter how badly Jake wanted to lead you up those stairs and push you face down into your pillows, he couldn’t betray his best friend like that. Couldn’t betray that trust.

You nodded in agreement, taking your own deep breaths to steady out your heart rate, “You’re right, we can’t be.”

You relaxed your body, pushing yourself off the counter, eyes darting to the fridge.

You grabbed a water bottle, walking past Jake as you exited the kitchen, stopping right past him.

“Jake,” you whispered, looking back at him. Jake stared back at you with lustful eyes, praying you’d jump his bones right here, right now, “Make sure you pick up that bottle and clean any water that got anywhere, mom will kill you if you don’t clean your mess.”

And with that, you left him alone in the kitchen.

Jake didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he heard your footsteps going up the stairs. He quickly cleaned up the spill and threw away the bottle.

Jake made his way back to the hallway, stopping at the door of the spare room, and seeing the bulge in his shorts.

“Fuck,” he whispered, eyes going straight to the bathroom door.

He locked himself in, pulling his shirt over his head and to the floor, quickly dropping his shorts and boxers down to his ankles.

His cock pulsating and red, precum leaking from the tip.

Jake took himself into his hand, pumping himself slowly. Head leaning back against the wall, mouth slightly open.

Jake stared at himself in the mirror, watching as stroked himself, hand picking up speed.

His hand wasn’t enough, and as guilty as he already felt, he imagined his hand was yours. Imagine how your hand would be wrapped around his thick cock, thumb spreading his precum around the tip. He imagined how it’d feel to how your lips on his neck, kissing down his chest and torso until your lips wrapped around his cock, tongue licking up and down his shaft.

Jake had to bite down on his lips to keep his moans quiet, whining at the sensation of the twitch his dick made, so close to release.

He whispered, “I’m cumming Y/N…I’m cum-“

Before he could finish his words, his cum was dripping down his hand.

Jake slowed his hand movement, chasing his high.

He looked down at his mess, taking deep breaths and relaxing against the wall.

“Fuck…oh fuck…”

Jake knew thinking of you while he got himself off would only make this sexual frustration worse. How was he going to survive the next two weeks? He barely survived the first day.

—

If you weren’t awkward around Jake before, you sure are now.

You barely slept at all last night because of the hard-boiled embarrassment you felt.

You came onto your older brother's best friend?! What were you even thinking? You can already see how pissed off Jay would be if he found out what happened last night.

You knew what happened was just a one-time thing. Some weird thing that happened because of your choices.

But the way Jake looked at you…how his eyes spoke for him…it clouded your mind.

When you walked into the kitchen that morning, Jake, Sunghoon, and Heeseung sat at the kitchen table yelling and pushing each other while your brother stood at the stove flipping pancakes.

Jay was the first to notice you, “Aye, good morning stinks.”

Three other pairs of eyes fell onto you, feeling Jake’s gaze specifically.

You walked to your brother, taking a glance at the pancakes, “When will they be ready?” Your mouth was practically watering just by looking at them. Maybe it was a good idea to come back home, all for Jay’s cooking.

“Soon, go sit down with everyone else, impatient.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, crossing your arms, “How can I not be impatient when I don’t get to have your cooking anymore?”

Jay rolled his eyes, “Maybe if you came home more often-“

“Okay, whatever corn lover.” You scoff, “You win.”

Jay chuckled at his victory, telling you once again to sit down.

You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, eyes landing back at the spot Jake had you pressed against just the night before.

Jake took notice of your stare on the spot. Covering his mouth with his fingers, eyes staring down at your legs and how your ass is barely covered by your shorts.

It’s like you were trying to tempt him.

Sunghoon also noticed your stare at the counter, raising a brow in concern, “You good over there Y/N?”

The thoughts of last night faded from your mind as you turned around to face him, smiling with a “Mmhmm! Just lost in thought!”

Oh, Jake couldn’t help but tease you, “What’s up with that spot to get so lost in thought about?”

He did not.

You narrow your eyes at him, the shit-eating grin that spread across his face pissed you off.

While the others giggled and went back to their normal business, you kept your eyes on Jake. Fully watching as his eyes traveled down your body.

If he wants to play games, you’ll play back.

You walked back over to Jay, leaning yourself onto the counter, knowing full well your shorts will ride up, showing off your ass cheeks.

Jake clenched his fist in his lap, biting down on his fingers at his mouth, feeling his dick start to harden.

The way your shorts lifted to show the small amount of fat from your ass, basically showing off to Jake that you were either wearing a thong or…nothing at all underneath.

You slightly shifted your weight between your legs, the small jiggle of your ass made him clench his fist tighter, having to completely cover his arm over his bulge.

Jake knew he couldn’t get up and walk out of the kitchen, not with his raging boner on full display. Everyone would clown him.

This was the consequence of pushing his luck. Now he’s got to suffer with it.

You turned your head back to look at him, seeing the way he twitched in his seat and how his jaw was clenched tightly. The look he was giving you, the same hungry look from last night, but worse.

It was enough to dampen your shorts.

Jake knew he had to turn the situation around, to drop it entirely, “Hey Jay!”

You quickly twisted yourself around, looping your fingers at the back of your shorts to pull them down, seeing the smug look that now played on Jake’s face.

It was a powerful move to get your brother's attention, knowing Jay would turn around along with Sunghoon and Heeseung's attention being brought in this direction.

Checkmate.

—

You nearly jumped for joy when you found out all the boys would be leaving the house for the day to see their families, Jay going along with them.

You decided since now the house was empty and you’d be alone means the massive TV in the living room finally being free.

You pulled Netflix on the TV and skipped your way into the kitchen, pushing a bag of popcorn into the microwave, watching the timer go down as you grabbed a bowl for the popcorn, fingers barely holding the bag to drop them into the bowl.

You dropped onto the couch, popping the corn into your mouth, free hand searching for something to watch.

There was a show your best friend from college told you about not too long ago, but you couldn’t for the life of you remember the name of it.

You looked on the coffee table, searched the couch, and couldn’t find your phone anywhere.

“Where could it be…”

You set the popcorn bowl on the coffee table, rushing upstairs into your room, and finding the device sitting on your bed. You snatched it up quickly, shooting your friend a quick text as you made your way back down the stairs, the sound of the spare bathroom door opening nearly sent your soul into orbit.

You found yourself standing across the hall from Jake, him shooting the same confused look back at you.

“What?” he raised a brow, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You pointed a finger at him, “Why aren’t you with the boys?”

Jake got more confused, “Why would I be?”

“Don’t you need to see your family? Ya know while you’re back home?” you retort.

Jake chuckled, “Honey, how can I visit my family if they’re on vacation in Australia?”

You…didn’t think of that. You just assumed his family would be here in town too.

You fidgeted with your shorts, suddenly embarrassed for thinking you’d be home alone.

Jake looked down at your legs, the thoughts from earlier in the morning coming back to his head.

You caught him looking, a smirk playing on your face, “You sure have a staring problem, Sim Jaeyun.”

His eyes whipped up to yours, the corners of his lips curving, “You really want to play this game right now, Park Y/N? When there’s no one else here?”

You came back to the realization that the two of you were alone.

Jake walked over to you, arms stretched out at his sides, corning you between himself and the railing of the staircase.

Jake knew this was wrong, but the stunt you pulled this morning had him taking a thirty-minute shower after breakfast just to beat himself off to release that tension.

“I’m asking you this again, what are you trying to pull, Y/N?”

You were at a loss for words because you weren’t sure what you were trying to pull. You want to respect your brother's “off limits” wishes towards his friends, but god damn at the same time, you were so attracted to Jake.

He has always been a good-looking kid, you always found him so adorable, but once middle and high school came around and he started to finally fill into his body properly, the more attractive he became and the girls around school knew it too. The last time you saw him was his high school graduation, and boy did those years make him one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen.

“Turning me on in front of my friends and your brother? So dirty.”

You clenched your thighs together, trying to hide the arousal you were feeling, except nothing could get past Jake.

“You want me,” he whispered with a smirk, leaning his body closer to yours, “You want me so bad.”

Jake had to admit seeing you like this was such a turn-on. The way he’s got you clenching your thighs and hasn't even laid a hand on you.

God he wanted to touch you again, have your body pressed close against his, feeling your tits squish to his chest and hands grasping your ass.

Him being alone in this house with you was dangerous.

Day two and still basically a full two weeks left to go.

But he can’t fold, no matter what.

You saw how quickly Jake’s face changed, how the lust left his eyes and was replaced with the soft puppy dog eyes he normally has.

And you knew why.

Jay.

“Maybe we need to stay clear from each other,” you said, slipping under his arm and up a few steps on the stairs, “Like you said last night, we can’t be doing this.”

Jake knew it was the right thing to do. Besides, once these two weeks are over and he goes back to college, things will go back to normal, right? No thoughts of his best friend's little sister fucking him into oblivion.

He nodded, pushing himself off the stairs, “But unfortunately we can’t completely ignore each other, that’ll be more suspicious than anything.”

“Right,” you knew the moment your brother caught onto the two of you ignoring each other he’d known something was up. Thankfully for you, nothing has really happened between you and Jake, just some dry humping, dirty talk on Jake’s end, and him grabbing your ass in the kitchen on top of you teasing him this morning. No big deal! “We just need to act like how we used to do, like when we were kids.”

Jake softly smiled at you, “That’ll be an easy thing to do, right, stinks?”

You rolled your eyes and stomped up the stairs, “I’m so sick of that name.”

Jake couldn’t hold back his laugh, seeing the popcorn bowl you left on the table, “I’m stealing your popcorn!” he yelled, shoving some of the buttery goodness into his mouth. But the only response he got was the sound of your door slamming.

—

What Jake thought would be easy ended up being the hardest thing.

He couldn’t look at you without the thought of laying face first into your bed running across his mind.

Talking to you was a small challenge in itself. Mostly because Jay, Sunghoon, and Heeseung were always right there. Jake felt like their eyes were secretly judging him, watching his every move when probably in reality there was nothing but elevator music going on in their heads the entire time. But he still couldn’t help but feel like an ant under a microscope and had to watch how he looked at you or spoke to you.

The four of them grew up teasing you, calling you silly names, spitting their watermelon speeds at you during the hot summers while you all played outside, and even when they would throw snow at you when you five would play outside in the cold. You were really like a little sister to them, basically family. So why was staying clear from you so hard? It was easy as kids. What was so different now besides how grown up you were now?

It was now Monday, four days into the small vacation at your parents and still all this week and a full week after that to be here. The last couple of days have been…somewhat of a struggle for you and Jake.

You acted normal when everyone was around, but still couldn’t help but steal glances at Jake, sometimes already catching him looking at you.

After that day you were both alone, you stayed in your room at night, already having some snacks and water up on your nightstand so you wouldn’t have to carefully sneak yourself back downstairs and run into Jake again.

There’s only been a few times where walking past him was a challenge, mostly in the living room trying to find a seat to sit down or in the kitchen when everyone is putting food on their plates at dinner time.

Small touches of your hands grazing from reaching for cups or when you walk past each other in the crowded kitchen and living room. Nothing too big that anyone would really notice…or so you hoped.

Jay nudged your shoulder with his, “What’s up Stink?”

You looked up at your brother, “Huh?”

Jay raised a brow at you, “Y/N, you’ve been twirling your spoon around your cereal for like five minutes now.”

You thinned your lips into a line, looking back down at your cereal that is more than likely soggy now, “I was, wasn’t I?”

You dropped the spoon in the bowl, excusing yourself from the breakfast table and walking the bowl to the sink.

Jay crossed his arms and slid back into his chair, “You not going to tell me what is going on?”

Your heart dropped, does he know? Does he know you and Jake have been acting not completely normal?

“I’m just really tired today is all,” you decided to play it off, hoping your worst fear wasn’t happening. Dumping out your wasted cereal and washing the bowl and spoon, “I also didn’t sleep much last night, could hear your snoring from next door.”

Jay, who now appeared at your side, chuckled, taking the bowl from your hands and a towel from the cabinet, “Was I really snoring that loud last night? I was exhausted. Heeseung spam called me saying they all could hear it from the guest room downstairs.”

Score! He doesn’t know.

You watched as he placed the now clean bowl back into its home in the cabinet and placed the towel over the rack to dry, “Damn, even Heeseung heard it? How is your throat not dry as hell?”

Jay flicked his finger against your forehead, laughing as you winced and one hand went to your head while the other balled into a fist and reached across to punch your brother in the chest.

His bright smile was enough to completely change your mood, taking whatever negative energy that was balling up to release and escape back to wherever it came from. Jay always had this effect on you, it was one of his best sibling traits.

But that didn’t stop you from still trying to square up with him.

And you failed…horribly.

Heeseung and Sunghoon walked into the kitchen at the perfect time for Jay to put you into a headlock between his biceps, “Say you're sorry,” he said in a teasing tone, “And I’ll let you go.”

Even with the laughing fit you were in, you still didn’t give up. Hands gripping his arms in attempts to get yourself free, “Never!” You chanted, “You snore like an old man!”

Heeseung and Sunghoon shared glances before walking around the two of you wrestling to grab their own bowls of cereal and sitting at the table.

Jake was the last to pile into the kitchen, stopping abruptly at the fight in the kitchen.

“Just walk around them,” Sunghoon mentioned, “We did.”

Jake carefully walked around the two of you who now sat on the floor.

You had your arms and legs wrapped around your brother, his back to your chest. But he had your back pressed against the island, his shoes digging into the floor to help him use all his weight towards his chest to keep you against the island.

Jake carefully made his way to the table, sitting down beside his other two friends, “Have they been fighting long?” Jake asked, too scared to even prepare himself his own bowl of sugar.

Heeseung shrugged, “We found them like this when we got here.”

Sunghoon groaned, “Should we break it up now? Probably been going on for long enough.”

“Hey!” Heeseung shouted. You and Jay stop wiggling around, eyes now set on the table at the three friends staring back at you, “Some of us would like to eat our breakfast in peace.”

“That sucks,” you joked, tightening your grip on your brother. Jay pushing his weight back onto you.

While Heeseung and Sunghoon seemed to completely discard the two siblings, Jake couldn’t help but smile fondly at you two.

He dropped his jaw into his palm, his smile only growing wider. This moment felt like old times when you were all children.

But that happy feeling soon faded and was replaced with fear when your mother walked into the kitchen. Jake never sat up straight so fast. Even Heeseung and Sunghoon stopped slouching.

“Park Jongseong! Park Y/N! What are you doing?!”

You and Jay got up from the floor, standing side by side in front of your mother.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Jay quickly asked with his, sorry for wrestling my baby sister on your clean kitchen floor mom, it won’t happen again, awkward smile.

Your mother placed her hands on her hips, “Am I not allowed to have a day off from work?”

Heeseung scooted his chair closer to the table, leaning against it in a way to get as close as possible to the conversation, him eating his cereal as if it were popcorn, and you guys were the movie.

Sunghoon followed Heeseung, him pulling at Jake’s hoodie to pull him close too.

“I think what Jay means mom, is that we weren’t expecting you to have the day off.” You elbowed your brother's ribs, a small oof leaving his lips from the pain.

Your mother relaxed, looking between the two of you, “Your father has a company party tonight up at that new fancy hotel a couple of towns over, we are leaving now to get there at a decent time. We are packing as we speak.”

“Wait, you're not coming home tonight?” Jay asked with a hint of shenanigans in his tone.

Oh boy…

She shook her head, “The party is ending too late, so we are staying at the hotel and coming home tomorrow morning.”

Jay didn’t even hide the fact that he had some kind of bullshit cooking up in his head as he turned and faced his friends, a smirk forming.

You leaned back, glancing at his friends, trying to decipher whatever secret language they were using to communicate with their eyes.

Before your mother could protest whatever shenanigans your brother was planning, your father stumbled into the kitchen.

“Boys, I need your help. The mail just came.” your father said, pointing his index finger at each of the three boys one by one, “It’s a big one.”

“Are we building something, Mr. Park?” Heeseung asked, already standing up from the table.

Your father nodded with a big smile, “We bought a hot tub for the back porch.”

—

You sat at the picnic table, cold hands shoving into your hoodie pocket, watching as the three boys hovered around Sunghoon who held the directions to the hot tub.

“When your dad said he got a hot tub that he needed help setting up, I thought he meant he was going to be a part of helping…” Jake sighed, shoving his hands into his jean pockets.

Jay also sighed, “Yeah, trust me. He put his whole faith into us with this one. Not to mention one person is just watching while we struggle.”

The three boys looked at you. You sat up straighter, smiling at them, and waved, “Dad never told me to help.”

Each of them glared at you before going back to the instruction booklet.

You were surprised your parents even bought the hot tub. Mostly since it would only be the two of them using it up until the spring came when it got too hot for it. Plus you and the boys would only be able to use it while you were visiting. But it’s their money, not yours. They can do what they please.

“Wait,” Heeseung said, picking up one of the hard plastic pieces, “I figured it out.”

The boys, sooner than later, had the hot tub built. It was a beautiful oak brown wood color with six seats and came with massaging capabilities with cool lights at the bottom for when it was dark out. It was small, and everyone’s legs would get all tangled up, but beautiful nevertheless.

The next step was setting up the pumps. Which racked the boy's brains too hard, causing them to sit at the picnic table with you.

“My brain hurts,” Heeseung said rubbing his temples, “I need a break.”

Sunghoon’s eyes lit up quickly, he sat up on the bench, hands slapping onto the table, “Tell us your plan, Jay!”

Jake’s attention also drew in, curious as well, “Yeah what’s the plan?”

Heeseung looked up at his friends, also waiting.

You looked at your brother, “Are you talking about whatever hidden language you three stooges had while in the kitchen earlier?”

“How dare you compare us to the three stooges!” Sunghoon snapped, reaching over to flick your forehead, but you were too quick, swatting his hand away.

“Can’t tell me I am wrong?” you retort, “Anyways, spill the beans.”

Jay looked between his two friends, “Might as well tell her,” Jake shrugged, “She’s already onto us.”

You shook your brother’s shoulder, “SPILL!”

“Party,” he sighed, shrugging you off, “We are going out tonight.”

You raised a brow, switching glances between the three idiots, “And you were trying to keep that a secret…why?”

“We couldn’t go to parties when we lived here?” Jay sassed.

“That didn’t stop you from sneaking out your window and jumping into Heeseung’s car?” you threw back, “You’re adults now, you think our parents can stop you?”

Jake released a giggle, “Your mother actually called Jay on the drive here telling him no drinking while we are here.”

You shrugged, your mother was always against drinking and going to parties. It’s what caused Jay and yourself to sneak out half of your high school lives. Your dad caught Jay sneaking in through the front door once and that’s all it took for him to start using his bedroom window and bribing you to keep your mouth shut until the first time you snuck out and couldn’t get back inside due to your window closing while you were out having no choice but to call him to let you inside.

“Anyways, yeah we are going out to a club, possibly bar hop. Just depends.” Jay shrugged it off as if it were no big deal.

“Cool, when are we leaving?” You asked, fully invested in going.

Jay scoffed, “Who said you can come?”

You scrunch your nose at your brother, “I am an adult, if you tell me no I could always drive myself and follow you guys.”

Heeseung chuckled, “She’s got a point, might as well let her come.”

You gave your brother a smug look, “See?”

“Fine, jeez!” he groaned.

“Plus, maybe you’ll get lucky and someone else can take me off your hands.” you wiggled your eyebrows, hoping they picked up what you were putting down.

Jake was the first one that pick it up. Chills being sent down his body. Eyes darting between you and Jay, then it finally clicked in his head.

“No!” Jay snapped, “Not happening, keeping you in my sight.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing damn well once you all get to the club or bar and get some alcohol in your system Jay can’t stop anything.

Heeseung slapped his hands on the table, “Anyways, enough of that! Let’s get these pumps on the hot tub working so we can get ready to leave, there’s five of us that have to get ready and lord knows we will need that time.”

Sure enough, the boys got the hot tub up and running smoothly in no time.

—

“Wear the fucking jacket Y/N!” Jay snapped, yelling over the loud music from the club, shoving his jacket in your face.

“I said no!” you snapped back at your brother, shoving his jacket out of the way.

“Dude,” Heeseung rolled his eyes, “did you not notice her outfit when we got in the car?!”

Jay sent daggers shooting at the older, “I was in the driver's seat dumbass! We were running late on leaving!”

You crossed your arms, looking down at your outfit. It wasn’t even bad? You had on your favorite faded blue ripped skinny jeans with fishnet tights underneath. You had on a long-sleeved crop top that was just above your belly button and in a v-neck style, shoving off your breasts, and your long hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail.

“Besides, it looks like a completely normal outfit!” Jay once again tried shoving the jacket at you.

“Dude!” you pushed his hands away once again, “There isn’t anything wrong with my outfit!”

Jay looked at each of his friends to help convince you, his eyes landing on Jake last. Jake just shrugged his shoulders, “Your sister man.”

Jake on the one hand had no problem with your outfit, it was cute, it was sexy, and it showed off all your curves, not to mention it made your tits and ass look GREAT. On the other hand, he can see Jay’s frustration. The moment any of the guys would take their eyes off you, another man would make his move.

“Jesus Christ I’m ordering us shots I can’t take this bickering,” Sunghoon said with a roll of his eyes as he pushed past everyone making his way to the bar.

Jay pleaded with you with his eyes, “Y/N.”

“Jongseong.”

Sunghoon returned quickly with five shots, handing everyone theirs, “Let’s get fucked up tonight!”

“Amen to that brother!” Heeseung shouted, “CHEERS!”

Everyone clacked the shot glasses together and then drank down the shot.

It’s been a while since you drank last, already making a promise to yourself to not go overboard.

Sunghoon collected the glasses and set them on the table next to you all.

Jay wouldn’t take his eyes off you and you shot darts into his soul.

He opened his mouth to say something, his eyes looking away from you for a second, his mouth hanging open at whatever sight he saw behind you.

You raised a brow, turning behind you to see what he was staring at, “Wow, and you want ME to cover up?”

Granted, the female your brother was going heart eye for was beautiful, she just happened to be showing off a lot more skin than you. She had a matching black crop top and skirt with black boots. It was a cute outfit, no wonder it got Jay’s attention.

She was also staring back at your brother, even giving him a little wave.

“Oh shit man,” Sunghoon nudged his arm, “Go get her.”

Jay ran a hand through his dyed hair, walking in her direction, “Put this on, I’ll be right back,” he dropped the jacket on the top of your head and disappeared into the crowd towards the female.

You pulled the jacket off you, dropping it down onto the table, “I need more alcohol.”

You walked away from the boys, only for the three of them to follow directly behind you to the counter of the bar, “Don’t you guys have girls to be going after?”

Heeseung chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders while he leaned against the counter, “We came here to drink, Y/N, and that’s exactly what we are doing.”

You pulled Heeseung off you, “Can’t you do that somewhere else?”

Sunghoon leaned closer to you, “You trying to get rid of us?” he gave you his famous smirk, and oh man did you want to punch him.

“Duh?” you said matter of fact, “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Yeah, Sunghoon,” Heeseung said, slinging his arm back around you, “She wants to get laid tonight, she can’t be seen with three other guys hovering around her.”

Jake didn’t like this conversation nor did he want to hear it. In hopes of changing the vibes, he called the bartender over. “Can we get a couple of rounds of shots please?”

The bartender nodded, “Coming right up!”

You once again removed Heeseung from you, getting more irritated by the second. You didn’t know what was more annoying, your brother, or his friends.

The eight shots were placed in front of you all, everyone taking one into their hands.

“Cheers!” Jake calmly said, once again clacking the glasses together before slurping down the liquid.

You set the glass down and then dropped your head into your hand, this wasn’t how you wanted the night to go. You expected to drink with the boys, yeah, but you weren’t expecting them to be up your ass.

“Is that who I think it is?” Heeseung asked, pointing a finger down the bar.

Everyone shifted their gaze looking in the direction Heeseung was pointing at.

“No way!” you gasped, leaning your head more into your hand, “Is that Choi Yeonjun?!”

As if hearing his name being called from across the bar, he turned and faced your direction, his eyes wandering between the four of you. He gave a small wave, his eyes lingering on you. Way too long for Jake’s liking.

The more shots Jake ordered, and the more the liquid courage went down your throat, the more you wanted to walk over to Yeonjun.

“Are you going to keep giving him heart eyes or are you gonna actually go talk to him?” Sunghoon said with a roll of his eyes, taking another shot down.

You tucked your lip between your teeth, slightly pulling at your ponytail while making eye contact with Yeonjun, him giving you a few winks and his own lip bite to flirt back.

It was driving Jake up a wall.

“Should I?” you asked, “Haven’t seen him since he graduated a few years before you guys.”

Yeonjun used to be in band class along with the boys and even lived the next street over from you and Jay before he moved away after graduation. He wasn’t close with the boys since he had his friend group, but they all hung out a few times from what you could remember.

“Y/N, maybe you shouldn’t,” Jake said, taking a small step closer to you as he eyed Yeonjun.

“Why not?” you stood from the bar, causing Jake to bring his eyes back to you. You adjusted your shirt, pulling it slightly down to reveal your tits a bit more.

Jake clenched his jaw at the sight, seeing how your tits slightly jiggled from you adjusting your shirt, and the fact Yeonjun was about to see it up close and personal wasn’t sitting right with him.

“How do I look?” you asked, turning and looking at each of them for their opinions.

“You look hot, now go talk to him before some other girl beats you to it!” Heeseung said, quickly pushing you away from them, which gave you no other choice but to walk over to him.

Once you were far enough away, Jake glared at Heeseung.

“Dude what?” he scoffed, “She came here for this reason. Jay ain’t even around, relax.”

That’s not the point.

“Come on, let’s go back to the table, I’m tired of standing,” Sunghoon said, collecting the leftover full shots, “Hee, Jake, order us some beer or something.”

“Well, hello there,” Yeonjun said, pulling you into a hug, “It’s been what? three-four years?”

You nodded into his shoulder, “It’s really been a while hasn’t it?”

Yeonjun sat back on his bar stool, pulling the one beside him out, “Please sit.”

Now that you are closer to him, you can see how grown-up he has gotten. Damn, what is with everyone you knew getting hit with puberty like a fucking truck?

“Are you still friends with Soobin, Beomgyu Taehyun, and…?”

“Huening kai?” he smiled, “Of course!” he glances around the club then looks back at you, “They are around here somewhere.”

You came over here specifically to flirt and hopefully get dragged out of this club by him, yet you’ve found yourself at a loss for words. He’s too beautiful and sexy with how he smiles, it’s throwing you for a loop. Plus you barely knew him back in school, only the basics really.

Yeonjun leans closer to you, placing his hand on your forearm, thumb rubbing circles, “How is your brother?” he asked, glancing behind you, “I saw you are here with Lee, Sim, and the other Park.”

You sighed, “Jay is around here somewhere,” you said, taking a quick look around the club, just to find your eyes back on Yeonjun.

Yeonjun sucked on his bottom lip as he stared you up and down, his eyes always landing back down onto your tits.

Yeonjun remembers perfectly well how overprotective Jay was over his sister, so if Yeonjun wanted to get you out of your clothes, he needed to act fast before Jay caught eyes on the two of you.

Yeonjun was so attracted to you right now. He found you cute back in school, but damn did you grow up to be such a fine woman. And with the way your friends were eyeballing him, he knew they too found you just as sexy, making him need to act even faster before one of them decided to ruin everything.

Jake took notice of how Yeonjun was eye fucking you without a care in the world. His hand was on your arm as you two talked. Oh, it was setting him off.

“Damn,” Heeseung said, putting his beer bottle to his lips, “You’re going to burn a hole in the guy if you keep staring at him like that.”

“Are we just going to let him touch her like that?” Jake spat out, taking his eyes off Yeonjun to look at his friends, “You both are staring at them too!!”

Sunghoon shrugged, “I am only watching to see if he can actually bag her.”

“Dude,” Heeseung quickly said, “One hundred bucks that he fucks up somehow.”

Jake furrowed his eyes, “What the actual fuck?”

“What?” Sunghoon snapped, “You’re acting like Jay right now. What is up with the two of you? Huh?”

Jake didn’t know how to answer that. He can’t tell them the sexual frustration he’s been feeling knowing one of them will let it slip to Jay either by accident or purposely.

“I am just worried about her, that's all,” Jake said, looking back over to you.

In the time Jake had his eyes off you, Yeonjun had his stool pulled closer to you, his legs found their way between yours, his knees touching yours and hand resting on your thigh, his fingers slowly slipping between the tears of your jeans.

Jake’s jaw locked, his hands forming into fists.

“Jake,” Heeseung said calmly, noticing his friend's behavior, “Let’s think smart about this, ya?”

“She is basically our family and you’re just going to stand by and let some random dude touch her like that?!” Jake snapped.

“Jake, he isn’t some random dude, we went to school with him,” Heeseung tried to play damage control, but it wasn’t working.

“He also had a reputation for the females he pulled into his bed!” Jake spat.

Sunghoon let out a whistle and with a tilt of his head said, “You’re so into her.”

Jake whipped his head around, “Would you let Yeji be in Y/N position right now?”

Sunghoon scoffed, “Fuck no! She wouldn’t be anywhere near here!”

“Then what’s the difference of letting the girl we grew up with be in that position right now?”

Heeseung sighed, “Jake, what is really going on with you? You’d never bat an eye at her before.”

I want her all to myself. Don’t want another man touching her.

Jake looked away from his friends. Heeseung was right, he’d never thought twice about you before now, he should be supporting your choices to get laid.

Except he wasn’t.

Yeonjun’s hand completely slipped between the tear of your jeans, squeezing your thigh as he continued to eye fuck the shit out of you.

And that’s all it took.

Jake shot from the chair, his brain on autopilot.

“JAKE!!” Both his friends called after him. Jake ignored them.

Jake approached the two of you quickly, Yeonjun locked eyes with Jake and slid his hand out of your jeans with a disgusted look on his face clearly showing his irritation towards Jake.

“Hey,” Jake said, his hand finding your lower back, his fingers twisting into your belt loop and slightly pulling, “Let’s go find your brother and leave, ya? We still have a few other places to check out.”

Oh here we go, Yeonjun thought.

“Wow, no hey Yeonjun! Long time no see! How ya been?” Yeonjun sassed, his thumb still making soft figure eights on your forearm.

Jake burnt holes into him, “Sup, Choi, long time no see. How have you been? Cool. Bye.”

“Jake!” you snapped at his rudeness.

Jake’s hand found your waist, slightly pulling you again in an attempt to remove you from the stool.

“I don’t think Y/N wants to leave,” Yeonjun glared at him.

Jake scoffed, reaching over to remove his hand from your arm, then completely wrapping around you, lifting you from the seat.

Yeonjun clicked his tongue, “Is there a problem, Sim?”

Jake chuckled, “Nah man,” he looked around behind Yeonjun, “Where is the rest of your rat pack huh?”

“Jake!!” you snapped at him again. What the fuck was his problem?

Yeonjun chuckled back, his tongue digging into the side of his cheek, standing up from the stool, “Why don’t you let miss pretty thing go and head back over to Mr. Ace and Ice Prince, ya?”

Yeonjun reached for you, only for Jake to whip you behind him, “Don’t you fucking touch her.”

“Come on man, trying to get my dick wet, stop gatekeeping her pussy for yourself.”

Oh, man.

“The fuck did you just say?!” Jake lost it, letting his grip on you go and stepping into Yeonjun’s face.

This can’t be good, “Jake!” you gripped onto his arm, trying to yank him back, “Jake come on, let’s just go!”

He wouldn’t budge, so you did the next best thing. Whipping your head around to find Heeseung and Sunghoon. Waving your hands to get their attention to look in your direction, eyes pleading with them. They got up immediately.

“You heard me, Sim,” Yeonjun said, “I saw the way you’ve been staring her down all night.”

Jake clicked his tongue, “Man, fuck off!” and Jake shoved him.

Yeonjun shoved him back harder.

Before Jake could swing, Heeseung wrapped his hands around Jake, “Woah woah woah!! Hoon get Y/N out of here!” Heeseung yelled as he fought to keep Jake still.

Sunghoon wrapped his arm around your waist, trying to pull you away from the situation, “Y/N, let’s go please,” but you fought against him, “I need you safe! Please!” You stopped struggling against Sunghoon’s hold, slowly letting him back you away.

“Jake, man listen to me,” Heeseung whipped himself in front of Jake, “Let’s just go okay? Think about Y/N, we need to get her somewhere safe, ya?”

Jake took his eyes off Yeonjun and over to Heeseung, his body relaxing and nodding. The last thing he wants is to put you in danger or see him start a fight.

Jake nodded, letting Heeseung push him back and turn him around.

The moment Heeseung’s hands were off Jake and he was now at his side, Yeonjun scoffed, “Pussy shit.”

Pussy shit?

Heeseung wasn’t fast enough to get ahold of Jake, because now his fists were balled and made contact with Yeonjun’s cheek.

Yeonjun hunched to the side, his left hand touching the area Jake just punched him, only to quickly whip around and land a punch right on the corner of the left side of Jake’s mouth.

“Find my brother!” You yelled, fighting against Sunghoon’s hold on you, “Find Jay!!”

Heeseung ran into the crowd, pushing past the dancing bodies on the floor.

Jake licked the blood that dripped down his lip, letting out an evil laugh before gripping Yeonjun’s collar of his shirt, Yeonjun took his fist full of Jake’s shirt and gave him a shove.

“You’re fucking dead!” Jake spat, getting himself ready to throw another punch.

Before the next moves could be made, Heeseung and Jay were at Jake’s side with Soobin and Taehyun at Yeonjun’s.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Jay yelled, pushing Yeonjun off his friend and then wrapping his hands around Jake’s biceps, Heeseung doing the same in hopes of holding him back.

Soobin and Taehyun also hand their own death grips on their older.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you two?!” Jay snapped, eyes darting between him and Jun, “Fighting in a club? Jesus fucking Christ.”

Sunghoon let you go to run to his friend's side, placing his hands on Jake’s shoulders to help pull him back.

“Let’s fucking go!” Heeseung growled, “NOW!”

You made your way over to Jake, eyes landing on the cut on his lip. You whipped your head back around and looked at Yeonjun, seeing the bruise already starting to form on his cheek.

Much deserved.

Jake’s hands found your waist as he pulled you to him, giving Yeonjun one last fuck you look as he backed away. Jay also places a hand on your back, giving Yeonjun a stare himself.

Yeonjun chuckled, taking a step forward but his friends stopped him, “Yeah! Learn to get your dog and bitch of a sister under control!”

Yeonjun was now on the floor on his knees, spitting blood onto the tile, and blood dripping from Jay’s fist.

You quickly ran over to your brother, pulling him away, watching as Soobin and Taehyun pulled Yeonjun up.

“Let’s just go hyung,” Taehyun said, “You’ve drank way too much tonight.”

With a nod from Yeonjun, he let Taehyun pull him away, Beomgyu taking Soobin’s spot as he quickly apologized to us for Yeonjun then followed behind his four friends.

Heeseung drove home while Sunghoon sat in the passenger seat.

You sat between Jay and Jake, your hands examining your brothers, napkins, and a bag of ice you guys got from the bar laid onto his hand.

“I can’t believe you punched him that hard,” you said, squeezing his wrist tightly.

“I wasn’t going to let him talk about you and Jake like that,” your brother mumbled, “couldn’t let Jake get hit again either.” he teased

“Fuck man,” Jake said, leaning his head back and tilting it to look at Jay, “I had him!”

Everyone laughed.

“Oh!!” Heeseung finally spoke up, pointing a finger at Sunghoon, “You owe me one hundred dollars!!”

“Huh?” Jay questioned.

“They made a stupid ass bet,” Jake said, rolling his eyes, “Sunghoon lost.”

“I wouldn’t have if someone didn’t storm off.” Sunghoon snapped, whipping around in the seat to look at Jake, earning a middle finger from Jake.

“Wasn’t going to let him continue touching Y/N like that.”

“Thank you,” Jay said, “For watching after my sister.”

Jake nodded, “Someone had to.”

You rolled your eyes and sent your elbow flying into his ribs.

Turning your attention back to Jay, you shifted the ice and napkin up to take a look at the cuts on his hand, “It’ll be bruised for awhile, you hit him pretty hard.”

Jay just nodded, eyes getting heavy.

“Hey,” you tap his leg, “You okay?”

Jay smiled with a laugh, “I’m so fucking hammered, surprised I sobered up enough to stop that fight.”

You smiled sweetly at your brother, “Let’s get you to sleep once home.”

—

After the night you had, all you wanted was to try out the hot tub.

Once you and the guys got Jay into bed, you watched as they made their way into the spare room, the door closing.

You did get into bed, but the jitters from the fight still haunted you. And what better way to get those jitters away than to try out the brand-new hot tub?

You quickly changed into your dark blue bikini, slipping sweatpants and a sweatshirt over your body, and quickly but quietly made your way down the stairs, into the laundry closet to grab a towel and into the kitchen, carefully unlocking and sliding the glass door open and shut.

Turning the hot tub and pulled the cover off and the lights lit up the porch, and watched the bubbles start to form. You dropped the towel onto the table and slid out of your sweats, the cold immediately touching your skin.

You tied your hair back into a tight bun and quickly jumped over the steps and slid your body into the warmth.

You released a soft ahhh as the water warmed your body.

You laid your head back onto the pillow at your seat, closing your eyes and moving your arms back and forth.

No wonder your parents wanted a hot tub, this shit was relaxing as hell.

The sound of the sliding glass door opening scared you, making you quickly sit up and whip around. Your eyes nearly rolled out of your sockets from how hard you rolled them.

“Hello to you too,” Jake said snarkly, “What are you even doing up?”

You turned back around, “Can say the same about you.”

Jake wasn’t expecting anyone to be in the hot tub, he wanted to be alone and get out of the spare room for a few hours. After tonight a relaxing time in the hot tub sounded amazing.

He was probably the last person you wanted to be around, yet he also couldn’t help but feel happy knowing you were also here.

“Am I allowed to get in or??”

You looked back over at him, giving a small nod, “Yeah, that’s fine. You’re already out here.”

The corner of Jake’s lips curled, dropping the towel next to yours.

His hands found the ends of his sweatshirt, pulling it up and over his body.

You felt your face flush. Feeling as if you just saw the work of a God.

You knew he worked out, his whole physique was proof of that. But seeing shirtless was a whole new level.

Your eyes wandered from his chest down to his abs. Yeah, he was sculpted by the gods.

Jake looped his fingers in his sweatpants, giving a small smirk at you staring, “Staring problem?”

You quickly made eye contact with him, then shifted yourself back around, “No.”

He softly laughed, dropping his sweatpants to the ground and climbing into the hot tub.

“I am so glad I brought my swimming shorts.”

You watched as he sat across from you, his legs sliding down beside yours.

“Did you just, randomly pack swimming shorts?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jake laid his arms out against the top of the tub, sinking himself lower in, “Yeah. Always have to be prepared.”

You narrowed your eyes, “It’s the middle of winter.”

Jake chuckled, “Heeseung’s family has a heated pool. Figured we would go use it at some point during this trip.”

All you could do was nod. You’ve only ever been to the Lee household during birthday parties for Heeseung as kids. Guess the heated pool came around after you stopped hanging around them.

Everything went silent. It was awkward, both of you knew that. You both went from staying clear of each other the best you could to sitting across from each other alone.

“I’m sorry.”

Huh.

You looked at him with confusion, “Why?”

Jake sat up, leaning forward, and wrapped his arms around himself, “For starting a fight with Yeonjun in front of you. For him talking about you the way he did.”

“Jake,” you also leaned forward, placing your hand on his knee, “You were just defending me, there’s nothing wrong with that. My brother would beat the shit out of you for even apologizing for it.”

Jake scoffed, “The fight wouldn’t have happened in the first place if I didn’t lose my cool.”

“You aren’t…wrong…” You studied him. You’ve known Jake basically his whole life, you know his mannerisms and tell by his body language that he was truly deeply sorry, that’s one thing that has never changed about him, “Just don’t be sorry. You were defending me.”

Jake nodded, his eyes finding a corner of the tub, watching as the bubbles pop, then softly laughed, “Sorry I cock blocked you, that wasn’t cool of me.”

You let out a small giggle, “Yeah, you really did cock block me,” you let out a sigh, “Too bad he ended up being an asshole, really wanted to have a good fuck.”

“Fuck me then,” Jake said softly.

All you could do was look at him, not being able to tell if he was serious or not.

“Funny joke.”

“I’m not joking, Y/N.”

The whole reason you wanted to go out and gain a hookup was to release the sexual frustration that you had for the man sitting in front of you. But now that said man is straight up asking you to fuck him.

“You said we can’t be doing this, my brother—“

“I don’t care,” Jake moved forward, reaching his hand out and grabbing your waist, pulling you back over to him and in his lap.

His hands squeezed your thighs on either side of him, his forehead connecting to yours, “I can’t take it anymore. The way you’ve been teasing me…After seeing the way Yeonjun was undressing you with his eyes…the way he was touching you.”

His length grew hard underneath you, his hands sliding up to the strings of your bikini bottoms, gripping them tightly.

Jake thought he could survive these two weeks, thought he was stronger, and that the respect and bond he had with Jay was strong enough to keep him away. Unfortunately, your hold on him was stronger.

“I want you, so bad,” he whispered, his hot breath hitting your lips.

You placed your hands on his shoulders, “I want you too…”

You did. Oh god did you want him badly. But how could you betray your brother's rules? He’d kill you both.

Jake pulled at the strings of your bottoms slightly, “Just give me the word, and I’ll fuck you so good I swear it.”

Oh, fuck it.

You nodded, “Jaeyun, please.”

And that line got crossed.

Jake’s lips connected to yours, kissing you with such passion and need, like he’s been wanting for this his entire life.

His fingers pulled at both sides of strings, your bottoms completely coming undone and him pulling them away from your body to float off somewhere in the hot tub.

His tongue invades your mouth, twisting the muscle around yours letting soft and quiet moans release into your mouth.

You rolled your hips against him, sliding your folds against his clothed length as your fingers got tangled up in his hair.

Jake squeezed your hips, pushing you down harder onto him, bucking his hips up in motion with yours.

You released your mouth from his, a string of saliva connected to your mouths, “I need you, Jake, please.”

His hands left your hips and flew to his shorts, his fingers pulling at the strings. You, being impatient, looped your fingers into his shorts, helping him pull them down.

“Fuck baby, that needy for my cock?”

You nodded, watching as his shorts went down at his thighs, his thick length now resting against his abdomen.

Taking his cock in your hands, you slowly pumped him.

Jake’s hand went back to your waist, biting his lips. Fuck your hand feels so good against his cock, it was everything he ever imagined and more.

Jake lifted you, letting you adjust him to your fuck hole, lining him up perfectly.

“You ready, baby?” Jake asked, wanting one last form of permission from you before crossing the line even further behind the return.

You nodded, slowly sliding yourself down onto him.

You both groan out at the feeling of him bottoming out, the sensation already sending Jake over the edge. He could cum right now just from bottoming out.

You rolled your hips slowly to help get adjusted to his size, hands gripping his broad shoulders as you slowly picked up your pace.

Jake’s mouth connected back to yours as you rode him. bucking his hips up at the same motion as you.

“Fucckkkk, you’re so tight, baby. Taking my dick so good, oh fuck.”

You picked up the pace, his dick hitting your g-spot perfectly.

Jake’s brain was going fuzzy, the sensation of his dick buried deep in your cunt was sending him to another world.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Jake slid his hands up to the string of your top, fingers gripping them tightly along with your skin, fingers digging in as he slid them back down your back, his hips bucking up harder into you.

You moaned out a little too loud, Jake’s lips reattaching to your lips, “Shhh, baby, you need to stay quiet.”

You nodded, biting down on your lips to suppress your sounds as you continued to slide his dick in and out of you…in and out, in and out.

Jake knew he would cum soon, that knot in his stomach threatening to snap and the twitch of his dick.

Then your pussy tightened around him, your own high approaching.

“I’m…cumming soon,” you whispered, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“Yeah, baby?” He slid his hand down to your heat, thumb rubbing circles on your clit, “Wanna cum?”

“Please.” You begged, throwing your head back as your legs got weaker, biting down on your tongue as the knot snapped.

“That’s it, pretty girl, make a mess all over my cock.”

You fell forward, resting your head against his, his hands squeezing your hips tightly as he fucked into you, the overstimulation making you dizzy along with the heat from the water.

“Jake…”

“I know baby girl,” he whispered, locking his jaw at the knot and getting close to releasing, “Fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming.”

With a groan, he pumped his seed against your walls riding out his high.

Jake wrapped his arms around you, resting his forehead against your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin.

You tangled your fingers in his hair and let out a sigh, “Jay is going to kill us both.”

Jake chuckled, “Yeah, but only if he finds out.”

You both took a moment to catch your breaths, your hands releasing from his hair and sliding down his neck, your fingers stopping at the chain of his necklace. A beautiful large double link pendant.

Jake noticed your eyes at his neck, “It’s pretty, right?” he said between deep breaths.

You nodded, twisting the metal between your fingers.

He lifted his hands from your sides, reaching behind him and unattaching the clasp, removing it from his body and moving it to yours, the double links dropping at your collar bones.

“Jake, no, I can’t take this!” you went to take the necklace off, “This was probably very expensive!”

Jake grabbed your hands, sliding them back around his neck, “It’s yours now, a beautiful necklace for a very beautiful woman. Keep it.”

Your heart was racing, your stomach filled with butterflies at the way he smiled and looked at you.

“It looks better on you anyway baby,” Jake wraps one arm back around you, his free hand cupping your jaw and pulling you in for a kiss.

—

Jake had to admit, that seeing you walking around with his necklace around your neck drove him insane.

It was like his own way of marking you without physically having to do it.

You plopped down onto the couch next to Heeseung, the necklace sitting beautifully against your collarbones.

Oh, did Jake want his lips on your neck right now.

“Damnit!” Sunghoon shouted, tossing the Nintendo Controller onto the coffee, “Why are you so damn good?!”

Heeseung raised a brow, “It’s Mario Kart??? It doesn’t take skill??”

Jay patted his back, “At least you aren’t last place, like someone sitting in the corner over there,”

And then all eyes went to Jake.

“Oh, fuck off!” he snapped, “I don’t play Mario Kart!”

You smiled at your friends, eyes connecting with Jake’s.

He gave you his flirty smile, eyes leaving yours, and went back to the TV as the next race started.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. Last night in the hot tub replayed in your mind on a loop. The way his hands felt against your skin, how his lips fit perfectly to yours. How his cock felt…You couldn’t help but wonder if he went to bed last night too with his brain flooding of you.

And he did.

Having sex with you was everything Jake imagined it to be. It was actually BETTER than he imagined it. To finally feel you wrapped around his cock and hear your pretty moans in his ears. Oh, it was heaven.

The only issue now is…well…he wants more. So much more.

He spent most of his time last night after the hot tub sex thinking the next moment he’d be able to fuck you. Thinking how he’d be able to get you alone long enough or even have the opportunity to get you alone.

Another problem is, that those chances are slim.

You lifted the collar of your hoodie over your neck, not wanting to chance your brother, or really anyone, seeing Jake’s necklace.

You both crossed a line and now have to deal with the secret of it.

The sound of the washing machine went off, telling you your laundry was finished.

You quickly jumped from the couch.

“What are we doing for lunch?” Jay finally said, “Y/N? What do you think?

You stopped halfway out of the living room, turning back to look at your brother, “Why not just order takeout?”

Jay shrugged, “Guys?”

As the boys discussed lunch, you finished your walk back to the laundry room.

By the time you transferred your wet clothes into the dryer, Jake walked in, “Is the washer open now?”

You gave him a nod, closing the dryer door and turning it on.

“What did you decide for lunch?” you asked, leaning against the dryer.

Jake shoved his dirty clothes into the washing machine, “We decided on takeout like you suggested.”

You nodded, “Nice, I’ll go tell Jay what I want.”

You barely were out of the room when Jake’s hand wrapped around your wrist.

He pulled you back, leaning you back against the dryer, “Stay, please.”

Jake’s free hand gripped the door, barely leaving it open a crack.

Before you could ask him anything else, his hands cupped your face, his lips crashing to yours.

You kissed him back, your hands pulling at his jacket, bringing him closer to you.

Jake has been waiting since watching you walk up those stairs last night to kiss you again. To feel you pressed to him again.

With one last passionate kiss, he rests his forehead against yours, “Jay already knows your order, no need to leave.”

It was true your brother knew your food orders, which was all you needed to stay in place even after Jake removed himself from you to finish starting his laundry.

Once the washer was started, he leaned against it beside you, crossing his arms, “Can I ask you something?”

You nudged his arm, “Yes, of course! We’ve known each other for our whole lives, you can ask me anything.”

“Can I sneak up to your room tonight?”

It was a simple question, yet it was enough to make your heart stop. He bit the inside of his mouth, anxiously waiting for your answer.

His question was proof that last night wasn’t a one-time thing. And honestly, you wouldn’t mind it. If Jay’s bedroom wasn’t right beside yours.

“Jake,” you whispered, peeking your eyes between the cracked door, “You know his bedroom is right beside mine, right? And my parents' room down the hall?”

Jake shrugged, “And? That’s the point of sneaking into your room like we are teenagers.”

You tried to not laugh, looking away from him and his goofy grin.

“Come onnnn baby,” he teased, pulling you to his chest, “Let me shove that pretty face of yours face down into your pillows while I fuck you so good from behind.”

He slid his hands down to your ass, squeezing the fat while he pressed his hard length against you, his lips finding your neck, “Wanna fuck you so hard and watch my necklace bounce against your pretty collarbones.”

You were melting under his touch. Folding so hard for him. He makes your heart race faster than anyone else ever has.

“Please…” you softly moaned, hoping he heard you over the sounds of the machines.

He did. Hearing you beg for him to fold you like an omelet later tonight was turning him on so badly. He thrust his cock harder against you.

“Get on your knees, baby,” Jake whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine.

You dropped down with no hesitation, hands already reaching for the buttons of his jeans, helping him slide them down along with his boxers in one motion.

Your mouth watered at the sight of his hard cock resting against his abdomen.

Jake stroked himself, watching how undone you’re already becoming for him, “Such a good girl for me. Put your hands on my thighs, and stick that pretty tongue out.”

You did what you were told, hands resting against his toned thighs, tongue sliding out of your mouth.

“Fuck…”

He placed the tip onto your tongue, immediately wrapping the muscle around him, taking him completely in your mouth.

Jake groaned, his hands gripping the edges of the washing machine and praying his knees wouldn't fail him now.

You bobbed your head, tongue licking up his shaft all the way to the top, spreading his precum and mixing it with your saliva.

Lifting your hand from his thigh, you wrapped it around his length, following the motions as your mouth.

Fuck you were sucking him off so good. His mind went cloudy, the only thing he focused on was how fucking good your mouth felt.

Jake pulled your long hair into a ponytail, wrapping the locks between his fingers and giving it a tight pull.

You moaned against him, the vibrations sending gasping out of his mouth, his hips fucking forward, “Oh, fuck…Y/N, fuck.”

Jake pulled your hair slightly harder, not wanting to hurt you, his dick hitting the back of your throat as he fucked your mouth.

Your hands found his thighs again, fingers digging into his skin. You were losing yourself against his cock, knowing full well your panties were soaked.

You looked up at him, seeing how much of a mess he was. Pupils were blown out, mouth opened, chest heaving.

Who knew you could make such a mess of him?

“Sucking me off so good, Y/N. I’m…fuck I’m, I’m gonna cum.”

You stuck your tongue out further, giving him more access to the back of your throat as he continued to face fuck you until his warm load shot down your throat.

“Clench your lips,” he whispered between breaths. You did as you were told, him slowly sliding his dick from your lips, “Swallow and show me.”

You gulped it down, opening your mouth wide with your tongue sticking out, showing him the proof.

Jake smirked, using your hair that was still wrapped around his hands to pull you back up to your feet, “Such a dirty girl, only for me, ya?”

You nodded, licking the side of your lips.

He gave you one final kiss, then pulled his boxers and jeans back over his hips.

The laughter from your brother and friends from the living room filled the house while they cheered over their video games.

Jake’s fingers adjusted his necklace on your neck, fingers rubbing up to your jaw, his heart did flips seeing how you stared back at him with your fucked out lips.

“Let’s go back, can’t let them get too suspicious.”

Jake watched as you left, carrying your laundry basket quickly up the stairs to your room.

He leaned back against the washing machine, hand clenching his shirt, feeling the rush of his heartbeat.

Oh, he’s in deep trouble.

—

Jake’s promise to fuck you face down ass up was fulfilled. Yours and his clothes scattered all over the floor of your room. Your moans being muffled out by your pillows and Jake’s hand at the back of your head shoving your face deeper into the fabric. It was the best you’ve ever been fucked.

Your bed felt empty after Jake snuck right back out your door and went back downstairs.

You were scared tonight would be the last, but fortunately for you, it wasn’t.

The following night he quietly knocked on your door before quickly slipping in and crawling into bed with you.

This went on for the rest of the week. The two of you finding time throughout the day to have a quick make-out session just for him to crawl into your bed at night.

But it wasn’t always the rough sex you’d have. One night Jake cuddled you until you fell asleep before quietly exiting your bedroom. One night he held you in his arms listening to you talk about your classes back at college and the friends you had. One night he laid his head against your chest, listening to the sweet sound of your breathing and heartbeat. And then, oh god that night, it wasn’t rough sex or even a good fuck. He made love to you.

He hovered over you, one hand gently cupping your face as he squeezed your leg that was wrapped around his waist. Soft and slow thrusts were completely turned on just from being with each other and the feeling of skin-to-skin contact. How softly he’d kiss you and tell you how pretty you are. How lucky he was to have you in his life.

That’s the night you completely folded. You fell in love with him. It wasn’t about the sex anymore. It was about him. About the man you’ve known your whole life, that you grew with and watched him become who he is today.

Your feelings for him ran deep.

The secret meet-ups during the day turned into playful kisses, him wrapping you up in his arms and hugging you tightly.

You were really screwed.

The final week of vacation was half over and Jake was dreading the finale. He wasn’t ready to leave you yet. Wasn’t ready to let you go. Knowing damn well the minute you go your separate ways he would lose his goddamn mind.

All because of Jay’s rules. All because of the fucking “off limits”.

You and Sunghoon made lunch for everyone, giving your brother a day off from cooking.

Since you weren’t the best cook, ramen was on the menu.

You prepared the noodles and broth while Sunghoon prepared the meat.

“You guys both know that if this ramen turns out like shit it won’t be me beating your asses right?” your brother teased, his eyes looking between Jake and Heeseung.

“Yeah yeah fuck off,” Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “We know the ramen lovers will lose their shits. They’ll survive.”

“Hey now,” Jake snipped, turning around to face his friend, “I am so serious about my ramen!”

Heeseung agreed, high-fiving Jake, “We don’t fuck around when it comes to our ramen.”

You finished up two bowls, rolling your eyes as you set the first fresh bowls in front of the ramyeonz, “You both are so annoying!”

“They are, aren’t…they.” Jay’s eyes fixated on the necklace around your neck. He barely noticed it with the way your sweatshirt covered it. But when you bent down just right to put the bowls in front of Heeseung and Jake, it became noticeable.

If it weren’t for Heeseung sitting to his left, and Jake sitting in front of him, Jay wouldn’t have clocked the necklace as suspicious and went on about his day.

But the necklace looked familiar, and all it took was Jay’s eyes to wander to his best friend, no longer seeing the silver chain sitting against his neck.

“Can’t believe I’ve spent my whole life stuck with annoying boys like you!” You teased them, earning a middle finger from Heeseung and Jake scoffing out an “whatever” trying to shove you playfully but missing as you were too quick to back away.

“We are men! And you totally love us!” Heeseung said with a mouthful of ramen, “Doesn’t she Jake? We are the extra brothers you didn’t ask for.”

Jay clocked the look on Jake’s face, the awkward smile he had, and the way he was hesitant to answer, “Y-yeah. Of course.”

“We are stuck with you just as much as you’re stuck with us,” Sunghoon added, “Get over it.”

You elbowed him, “Whatever Hoon!” his smile and laugh causing your own to form. These boys were truly dear to your heart, and it took years of being away from all four of them to realize how deeply you did miss them. Especially your brother.

Jay kept quiet most of lunch, his eyes wandering back and forth between you and Jake. Taking mental notes of everything in the small details.

How you look at him, how he looks at you. How you sat beside him at the table when you usually sit beside Jay or Sunghoon. The little graze of Jake’s hand ran across your ass as he walked past you while you and Heeseung cleaned the dishes, causing you to scrunch your nose at him, thinking no one noticed.

You all went grocery shopping to refill the food in your parent's cabinets and fridge, Jay taking notes on how Jake was always right behind you or straying not too far from you. Jay was hoping he was overthinking, that maybe the two of you got closer after the bar fight last week, but something didn’t sit right with Jay.

He lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling that night, the sight of Jake’s necklace suddenly appearing around your neck.

Jay shoved his face into his pillow, trying to chase after the sleep he deeply needed and wanted, wanting to forget everything and give his best friend the benefit of the doubt, to trust the bond they had and the rules that were set.

That was until he heard your bedroom door opening and quickly shutting right after.

Jake spreads your legs and wraps them around his waist as he bottoms out, one hand flying to cover your mouth as he fucks into you fast and deep.

Both of you became a cumming mess.

You pulled your shorts over your hips and Jake’s tee shirt that you stole from his clean laundry over your head.

After Jake had his boxers over his hips, he playfully pulled you down onto your bed, his face cuddling up into your neck, “I don’t think I ever could get enough of your pussy.”

You wrap your arms around his bare back, drawing small infinity eights, “And I don’t think I ever could get enough of your dick.”

You felt him smile against your skin, “At least we are on the same page.”

Jake could get so high off the sex you have, it was addicting, his own personal drug.

His heartbeat fastened due to the thought of being away from you. Deciding now was a better time than any to bring up the topic.

Jake sat up, his hand resting at your hip, “Y/N, can-“

Before Jake could get another word out, your worst fear came to fruition.

The door opened with such force, your brother standing in the doorway, jaw locked tightly and fists clenched.

“I fucking knew it!”

Your heart stopped, quickly sitting up, trying to find the right words.

Jake sat up behind you, “Jay, bro, listen to me,”

“There isn’t a DAMN thing to listen to!” Jay yelled, turning on his heels.

“JAY!!” Jake yelled back, jumping from your bed and quickly sliding back into his sweatpants, pulling his shirt over his head as he followed your brother down the stairs, “Man stop we need to talk!!”

You finally found the will to move, climbing out of your bed and rushing down the stairs at the right moment of Sunghoon and Heeseung running from the spare bedroom, confused looks piled onto their faces.

“Will you listen to me!” Jake grabbed his friend's shoulder, Jay quickly whipped around and threw his hand off him.

“Listen to you? Give me one goddamn reason why I should be listening to you right now?!” Jay snapped, getting into Jake’s face.

“Woah! Woah!” Heeseung rushed over, pushing himself between them.

“Because I am your best friend man!” Jake snapped back.

“Yeah? My best friend?” Jay moved forward, Sunghoon now had to step in, pushing Jay back as Heeseung handled Jake, “My best friend wouldn’t be dicking down my little sister!!”

Everyone in the room froze, Sunghoon and Heeseung making glances between each other, and then between Jay and Jake.

Jake’s jaw locked, not wanting to say the wrong thing right now.

You stood at the last step of the stairs, too scared to move.

“I gave you one, ONE, rule. That she was off limits,” Jay’s eyes found you, “And you! I said no boys!”

“Nah, man!” Jake finally spoke up, stepping in front of Jay’s line of sight, “This is between you and me. Leave her out of it.”

“She betrayed me just as much as you did!” Jay scoffed, “How could you do this to me, man?”

Jay relaxed his body as he leaned against the couch, Jake also relaxed, “Bro it just…it just happened.”

That wasn’t the right thing to say, “How does it just “happen” Sim Jaeyun?! Huh?!”

shit.

Jake rolled his eyes, “Dude, I don’t know!” he threw his arms into the air, “It just did!”

“Stop lying!” Jay stood back up, “Stop fucking lying to me!”

“Oh good FUCKING god! Why are you so protective over her?! She’s a grown-ass adult!” Jake ran his hand through his hair, “We aren’t kids anymore man!”

“That doesn’t change the fact that she’s my everything!! From the moment she was born, I promised I was going to protect her from everyone! including you.”

Jake chuckled, “Protect her from what?!”

“From her getting hurt!”

“I wouldn’t do that!”

“What’s so different with her then huh?” Jay stepped forward, Sunghoon placing his hand on his chest, “What’s so different dicking down the girls in chem class and my sister, hmm? You’re such a play—“

“I am in love with her.” Jake spat out.

The room fell silent, confusion not only on Jay’s face but your own.

“What?”

“I’m in love with her, man,” Jake sighed with a shake of his head, “I’ve always been in love with her. Even as kids, I…I always had this ache in my heart, never understanding what it was, and because of your stupid ass rule…I was never able to figure it out.”

Jay relaxed himself back against the couch, eyes staring holes into the floor.

Jake continued, “Yeah I might have been a stupid ass playboy and completely forgot about your sister and what she meant to me but good god, the minute she stepped foot into this house…” Jake turned and looked at you, “Everything I felt all those years ago became clear.”

Jay looks up at you, the hardness that once sat in his eyes a second ago was gone, nothing sat there except soft sadness.

“Yes, I’ll admit, I had sex with your sister at first to release the sexual frustration, but the moment it happened…I was done for.”

Jake placed his hands on your face, his forehead touching yours, “She’s everything to me too, Jay.”

Jay let out a sigh, “What about you, stink? What’s your side?”

You remove yourself from Jake, walking around him and standing in front of your older brother, “I love him,” Jay rolled his eyes, staring back down at the floor, “But I love you too!! Jongseong, you’re my everything too. You’re the best big brother I could have ever asked for, you’ve done your job protecting me.”

Jay looked at you with glossed-over eyes, “Why him? Why out of everyone, one of my best friends?”

You shrugged, “It just happened that way.”

You stepped closer to him, pulling him into a hug, he gave in and hugged you tightly back.

“I am deeply and truly sorry that everything happened this way. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Jay knew that, deep down he knew this wasn’t what either you or Jake wanted. That this was something that just kinda happened. And he has to accept it.

Jake appears at your side, having you step away, pulling Jay into another hug, “I won’t hurt her. I promise. I’d die first before I’d ever do that.”

Jay sighed, also giving into Jake and hugging him back, “Hurt her and it’s your funeral I am planning.”

Jake chuckled, slapping his best friend on the back, “No problem there buddy.”

Jay pushed Jake away, “Okay, let’s all go back to bed. I am sure we already disturbed my parents enough.”

You let out a yawn, exhaustion sweeping over you.

Heeseung and Sunghoon walked towards the spare room and you up the stairs, Jake following behind you.

“Uhhh nah,” Jay snapped his fingers, pushing Jake towards the spare room, “You ain’t going back up there.”

“Come on dude.” Jake groaned.

“No, I’m sleeping in front of her door.” Jay pointed at the two others, “Make sure he doesn’t leave the room.”’

You rolled your eyes and continued up the stairs, “You all are really actually annoying.”

—

You sat at the kitchen table, peeling the potatoes for tonight's dinner, watching as the four boys and your dad stood outside in the cold grilling the meats.

Your mom stood behind you at the island, tossing the salad. Her careful eyes studied you, “Want to talk about it, my sweet daughter?”

You turned and faced her, “Talk about what?”

She gives you a soft smile, “About the reason your brother was screaming last night.”

You sighed, turning back around to continue peeling the potatoes, “You and dad heard everything?”

Your mother sat down beside you, taking the peeler and potato out of your hands, forcing you to face her.

“Honey, your brother is a very vocal person when he’s upset. It scared us half to death.”

She held your hands, her thumbs circling your palms, “Why didn’t you come and stop the fight?”

She sighs, looking outside at your father, “We wanted to, but your father said it was best for you guys to handle it. It was a matter we couldn’t step into.”

You understood that, everyone here is grown adults, your parents stepping in probably more than likely wouldn’t have helped anyway.

You followed your mother's gaze outside, watching as your brother flipped over the steak with dad right beside him. Jake sorted the raw meat into separate plates, handing them off to Jay to be grilled while Heeseung and Sunghoon helped cut the cooked meat into pieces.

Your eyes lingered on Jake, watching as he said something to Jay, your brother smiling wide and shoving Jake. That made you happy at least, knowing that your betrayal didn’t completely shatter their friendship.

“Y/N, you love him, don’t you sweetheart?”

You nodded, the tears swelling up in your eyes, “Momma I love him so much. But the fact Jay caught us the way he did is eating me alive. The last thing I wanted to do was see that betrayal and hurt in my brother's eyes.”

“Y/N, can I tell you a little story?”

You nodded, looking back at her. She wiped the tears off your face and squeezed your hand, “You want to know why your brother started that rule in the first place?”

You nodded again.

“It was Jongseong’s tenth birthday party, and Jaeyun just returned from visiting Australia, you remember that?”

You slightly nodded, trying to recall the memory. Jake would disappear to the land of kangaroos at least once or twice a year growing up. Narrowing down specifically when this is in this situation would be hard to pinpoint.

“Well, Jaeyun brought back gifts, not just for you know, your brother, Heeseung and Sunghoon, but one for you.”

The memory completely came back to you. Jake brought you back a small keychain with a baby joey and your name on it. You had that keychain on your school backpack for a couple of years until you lost it.

“I remember, Jay was irritated with me that day and I couldn’t figure out why, I was only nine.”

Your mother nodded, “It was the first, and last time may I add, that Jaeyun ever brought you back a gift.” she softly laughed at the memory, “Little Jaeyun handed your brother his birthday gift and souvenir, giving Heeseung and Sunghoon theirs, then he rushed away from the picnic table looking for you. That little keychain was in his hands until it was placed into your hands. Oh, was your brother upset.”

“So he was jealous that I also got a gift?” You raised your brow, glancing back outside at your brother, jealousy was never something he had or even showed.

“That’s what we thought it was at first, just Jongseong being jealous that his baby sister also got a gift on his birthday. Your dad tried calming him down for a good twenty minutes.”

Jay and Jake started to play fighting outside, running further into the yard as your dad just laughed and took a sip of his beer bottle.

“After your dad got him calmed down, we were finally able to talk to him about why it upset him, and you know what he said?”

You looked back at your mom, waiting for the answer.

“That you were too young for a boyfriend,” you rolled your eyes, of course he said that. Even as a child at the age of ten, he wanted you nowhere near other boys, “We had to explain to him that just because Jaeyun brought you back a gift, didn’t mean he likes you. But your brother wasn’t having any of it, kept saying over and over that the look Jaeyun gave you said otherwise. Then he told your father no one would be good enough for his little sister, that you were a prize that could never be won. So he came up with his rules. His friends were told you were now off limits, specifically to Jaeyun. And then he told you no boys.”

Your heart melted, knowing that Jay’s rules were always just a way to protect you, that he held you on such a high pedestal to the point no male would ever be good enough for you in his eyes. That you did indeed deserve so much.

“Obviously, your brother didn’t want you dating his friends, it would have been weird, mostly with how close the five of you were growing up. But your father and I figured he would have eventually let it go.”

You shrugged, making eye contact with Jay, he gave you a small smile before returning back to the grill after his play fight with Jake, “But you know, mom, I am grateful for his rules. He has helped me get out of so many terrible relationships and helped me see my worth.”

Your mom pulled you into a hug, “He loves you so much. You two are truly blessed to have each other as siblings.”

You agreed, no one will ever compare to your brother.

Your mom pulled back, rubbing your shoulders before standing up and going back to the island, “I always secretly wanted you to get with one of them.”

“Mother!” you snapped, “Huh?!”

“What?” She smiled, “Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon have always been good kids. I practically raised them! If any boy would be good enough for my daughter it would be one of them. Just funny how the person who created the whole reason the rules came into place is the same one who took your heart.”

You had to admit, it was funny. No wonder Jay literally lost his bonkers last night, questioning you on why Jake.

“Treat him well, Y/N. And give your brother some time to get over it. He’s strong, and he will get over it. Don’t beat yourself up or let it affect your relationship with Jake.”

Your mother was right. But you still can’t help but feel a bit guilty. Jay deserved the truth from the beginning.

—

The rest of the week went by in a flash. And turns out you really had nothing to worry about with Jake and Jay.

The two boys moved on like it didn’t happen, that their friendship was never on the line to begin with.

Jay even was being his normal self to you.

Dinner last night Jake sat beside you and even put his arm around you, and Jay didn’t even bat an eye.

It felt…different. You and Jake went from secretly hiding around to holding hands, hugging you any moment he could, and weren’t afraid to sit close to you. The only thing he secretly did was when he wanted to kiss you. Which you understood.

Jake still snuck into your room as well. That didn’t change. But the final night at the house, Jay straight up told him to spend any final moments with you.

Unfortunately, the night went by too quickly. You woke up in Jake’s arms, the only thing that could be heard was the sounds of his soft breathing and his heartbeat in your ear.

Jay’s alarms went off in his room, then the sound of his feet shuffling against the floor. You knew it was time to get up.

You got Jake up, sending him downstairs to pack and get ready.

Time was flying too fast, and soon enough your parents stood on the front porch, hugging each of you goodbye.

“Please come back home soon!” Your mother whined, tears staining her face, “I miss you both already!” She pulled you and Jay into a hug.

You fought back your tears, and you could tell your brother was too.

Your parents hugged the other boys as well, telling them to not be strangers and stop by anytime they come home or to even come back when Jay does.

But then the moment you wanted to shove away came, saying goodbye to Jake.

You hugged Heeseung, “Keep in touch kiddo!” he said with a pat on your head, “Stay out of trouble.”

“I think you’re the one who needs to stay out of trouble, Hee.” You pinched his arm, then moved on to Sunghoon, “You too! I heard all about your party shenanigans!”

Sunghoon playfully shoved you, “As if!” and then pulled you into a hug.

Jay was next.

“C'mere stinks.” Jay pulled you into a tight hug, “Thank you for agreeing to spend the rest of your time with us.”

You nodded against his shoulder, “I’m so glad you convinced me.”

Jay gave you one last tight squeeze before releasing you, “Love ya, please stay safe and talk often, ya?”

“Of course.”

He gave you one last smile, before his eyes lifted over behind you, “And keep him in check, ya? I can’t do it on my own.”

You turned behind you just in time to see Jake roll his eyes, “Dude, I keep myself in check.”

You patted his arm, “Sure you do babe, it’s okay.”

Everyone had their laughs except for Jake who rolled his eyes once again. “I hate you all.”

“Whatever, go say your goodbyes so we can leave,” Jay said, shooing you away.

Jake followed you to your car, his hands settling on your waist as he pulled your body to his, leaving no space in between. “I’m not ready to leave you yet.”

“I don’t want to leave you either, Jake.”

He really wasn’t ready to leave you yet, wasn’t ready to be apart, “Why did you choose a college so far away?”

You gigged, “Because at the time it’s where I wanted to be.”

“Transfer. Come be with me.”

You smiled at him, cupping his face, “I’ll think about it.”

Jake shook his head, sticking his tongue out at you, “Don’t tease me.”

You touched his forehead to yours, “I’ll miss you, so much.”

Oh, now Jake wanted to cry, “God knows how badly I’ll miss you too.”

He pulled you even closer, lips connecting to yours.

Jake kissed you like you were about to disappear from his grasp. Like the universe was going to rip you away from him.

Your cherry chapstick filled his senses and made his head spin, oh the things he’d do and the crimes he’d commit to always get a taste of your lips.

“Hey!!” Jay shouted from his car, his head hanging out the driver's side window, Heeseung and Sunghoon also peeking out their windows, “You gonna keep making out with my little sister or we gonna hit the road? She’s got a longer drive than us!”

Jake laughed against your lips, head turning to his friend, “If you’re going to give me a choice then…”

“Hurry up!” Jay snapped with a laugh.

“Go,” you said, “You’ll see me soon.”

Jake placed one final kiss on your lips, pulling away as he walked backward towards Jay’s car.

“I love you!” Jake shouted freely, finally happy to say those three words he’d been holding back.

“I love you too!!” You shouted back.

“Call me when you’re back in your dorm!”

You nodded, climbing into your car. Jake got into the back of Jay’s car, letting out a sigh.

“Missing your girlfriend already?” Heeseung teased.

“Man,” Jake shook his head, “Shut up.”

Jay took off down the street, slouching down into the seat, “Don’t worry, man.”

Jake slung his head back onto the seat, staring out the window, “How can I not?”

Jay looked into the rearview mirror, “I already have a plan to convince her to transfer.” Jake smiled, “If I can convince her to come home for two weeks, I can convince her to transfer. It’s already in motion.”

Jake sat up, slapping his friend on the shoulder, “My man!”

Jay knew he had to get used to seeing Jake with you, and he already could imagine the pain you both would feel being apart. Plus, having you around more often wouldn’t be a bad idea. It would be just like when you were all kids.

Jake sat back down in the seat, his smile never fading with thoughts of you.

—tags: @wooziswife @enhaslxt @woniebae @nctislifue @nanabbg @rikisnuggie @ericluvs @nyfwyeonjun @ratedjaeyoon @addictedtohobi @nshmrarki @hey-hey-heybitch @eneiyri @smiling-lion @loves0ft @luvswonyoung

#jake bby #sim jaeyun #sim jake #reader x sim jake #sim jake x reader #jake x reader #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #sim jake smut #older brothers best friend #yeonzzzn writing #off limits trilogy

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gojonanami · 7 months

Text

ALL'S FAIR (IN LOVE AND MERGERS) ✩ SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: you're not sure what's worse -- being an arranged marriage or being an arranged marriage with the person who used to be your best friend. ✴︎ contents: 18+ only, nsfw, arranged marriage au, gojo and reader are both heirs to large companies, childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, lots of fluff + banter, gojo is down bad, geto makes an appearance, handjobs (f!+m! receiving), oral (f!+m! receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, dom! + sub!gojo, degradation (slut), breeding kink, gojo has a praise kink, semi public sex, office sex, tiny amount of sexting, under the desk oral (m!receiving), pet names (sweetheart, princess, baby), pregnancy mentions ✴︎ wc: 16,381 (why do i do this to myself?)

“Why do you look so down, Princess?” Your eyes flicker up from your book, forcing your expression to stay disinterested — the one emotion Satoru hated, “shouldn’t you share your feelings with your fiancé?”

“Don’t call yourself that,” you snap, and his lips curl at your reaction, “what are you so smug about? You’re stuck in the same position as me,”

“And what’s that?” You close your book, glaring daggers at his all too perfect face.

“Marrying your worst enemy.”

It wasn’t always like this.

Satoru Gojo used to be your friend — your best friend in fact. The fact your families’ companies were rivals often meant you ran in the same social circles more often than not. And it meant more than one boring adult party that the two of you were stuck with each other.

The two of you had become inseparable — attending the same prestigious schools with the most pretentious children, though the two of you were no exceptions. But you liked to think you were.

And you didn’t realize your feelings for Satoru, until someone else had.

“Do you want to hang out on Friday?” You ask, flipping through the channels as the two of you watched TV, looking for something other than the second half of movies and the reruns of shows you didn’t care for.

“I can’t, I’m going to the formal,” he replies, not looking up from his phone, and you pause.

“You’re going to that?” You raise an eyebrow, “we’ve never went,”

“Well I never had someone ask me who I wanted to go with,” his eyes flicker up from his phone, a smirk on his lips, “you jealous?”

Your reply leaves your lips like whiplash, “You wish,” you cross your arms, but you can’t help ask the question burning on your lips, “who are you going with?”

“Akari,” and you scoff, “what?”

“That girl goes out with a new guy every week,” you shake your head, “you’re better off staying at home with me,”

“So you are jealous,” he hums, leaning back on the couch, “if you wanted to go with me, all you had to do was ask, Princess,”

Your cheeks flush, which you make up for in indignancy and sharp words, “Don’t call me that,” the nickname your family affectionately had called you had become Satoru’s favorite thing to call you, “I’m just telling you to be careful — that girl isn’t someone you should trust with your feelings,”

“I think I’ll use my own judgment instead of someone who hasn’t even been on a single date before,” his tone is far too biting and his accuracy is far too sharp — and you can’t stop your face from dropping, and his lips part - regret flashing across his features, “princess—“

“Go home, Satoru,” you rise, brushing past him, “you know the way out,”

“Princess—“ he tries to reach for your hand, but you slap it away. His hand retracts like he’d been burned.

“Please, go,” you open the door for him, and he does, and little do you know that would be one of the last times you spoke.

The day of the formal arrives, the two of you hadn’t seen each other outside of class since that day. But Satoru did see you at the dance that night - on the arm of his former best friend, Suguru — the same one he had a falling out with a year ago. He doesn’t say a word to you, but you don’t miss the hurt in his eyes - but you wonder why it was there in the first place - and why he was acting like you put it there.

It all goes to hell after.

The Gojo Corporation poaches one of your family’s biggest clients in a shady backroom deal, breaking their truce and your family’s trust. Arguments and stress reach a peak over the phone and lines are drawn and metaphorical guns are drawn.

And you and Satoru are caught in the crossfire.

Not that you weren’t firing shots yourself.

It wasn’t until you pulled Satoru into a secluded classroom, and you shut the door behind the two of you. Even with the sunglasses perched on his nose as always, he flinches in the bright light of the sun setting behind you, dipping the classroom in a blazing orange — light sensitivity nearly required him to wear his sunglasses out, but he certainly made a statement in them — though what didn’t he make a statement in?

“What are we going to do about our families?” you chew your lip — you had listened this morning to your father rant about the Gojo family — unkind words to say about them all, even Satoru himself, who your father had treated as a second son — and now he was grilling you about what you had told him about the family business.

“What can we do?” His arms are crossed and his gaze is upwards, “they are going to do what they want,”

You stare at him, your heart cracks, blood rushing in your ears, “Satoru, if this gets worse, we won’t be able to be friends,” you refuse to let your voice break.

“So what? I know the way out, don’t I?” But your heart did break, “I’m sure Suguru could comfort you,”

Your eyes burn, but you can’t, you can’t let him see you cry, “Why are you so upset? You had a date—“

“And mine wasn’t the person who backstabbed me,” he bites back, “what my family did is done, and so are we,” and he doesn’t look back when he leaves.

And it was good — because he didn’t see you cry.

And now you sat with him in your living room, trying to process the fact you would be legally married soon enough.

“Worst enemy? I know you liked to embellish princess, but that seems excessive,” he snorts, “glad to know I haven’t escaped your thoughts these years,”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” and he grins his shit eating grin, and it’s almost as if no time has passed, except the person who sits before you isn’t a seventeen year old with an attitude of a shithead — it’s an adult man (albeit with the same attitude).

“Don’t need to - you already do that for me, baby,” he winks, and you don’t know whether you want to slap him or strangle him. Either way, you wanted him to shut up, “shouldn’t we at least try to make the best of this?”

“The best of what?” You scoff, ready for your veins to burst out of your head, if only to spare you the agony of this conversation, “Gojo, we were best friends a million years ago and then we weren’t and now we’re getting married - all on the whims of our families, so how do we make the best of it?”

He pauses a moment, almost thoughtfully, “I was your best friend?”

And you rise to your feet, “this is impossible,” you brush past him, but he catches you by your wrist, his thumb grazing your pulse.

“Princess, I’m sorry,” he says, and you stop, meeting his gaze reluctantly, his lips part, “that you were so annoying in high school—“

“Fuck you,” and you storm off as he cackles, but you don’t notice the small smile on his lips that stays as he watches you.

And nor do you hear him say, “God, I missed you.”

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter under your breath, as you place back the millionth dress you looked at, “we’re hardly celebrities but we have to make a public appearance?”

Your families wanted the marriage to be portrayed as a love marriage in the media - childhood friends falling in love after reconnecting - the thing of love stories. The thing that would circle the drain on social media on cute threads of meetcutes and what ifs. When in fact, you were being forced on a shopping date with an already well paid and positioned paparazzi ready to take pictures of this charade.

“You may not be, Princess, but I am quite the catch,” Satoru takes the attention in stride, not only of the paparazzi, but the passersby who gawked at the two of you. It was true, Satoru was nearly always listed as an eligible bachelor in far too many of these lists that existed, if not the eligible bachelor, and yet here you were, glued to his side like some taudry accessory.

“So does that mean if I just toss you away, someone else will catch you?” You grumble, and he looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses.

“Like it or not, you caught me,” he flashes you those pearly whites, and you supposed he blinded you as you stumble forward, tripping. But you don’t kiss the pavement — but you almost wish you do. He catches you, his arm around your waist, the other on your shoulder, and his eyes graze over you in a flash of concern, and then amusement, “and I’m not going anywhere this time,”

And you flush, the clicks of cameras in the distance snapping you back to reality, as you right yourself with a fake smile plastered on your lips. You brush his shirt off as lovingly as you can, “And if I go?”

His lips only curl into his obnoxiously charming smile, as he gestures for you to walk on, “I’ll follow, Princess,”

Finally the trip is over, and Satoru is driving the both of you back, “I’m surprised you took a day off for this,” he remarks, “usually you work all week,”

“Well I wasn’t given much of a choice, now was I?” And then you glance at him, furrowing your brow, “how do you know how often I work?”

“What’s the phrase? Keep your enemies close, and your lovers closer?” He gives a wry grin as you scowl at him, “you’re not surprised I kept tabs on you, are you?”

“Well, no,” because you did the exact same. You pinned the blame on late nights and doom scrolling on social media — curiosity killed the cat.

“And now I know you kept tabs on me,” he looks far too satisfied with himself, “I’m flattered,”

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave him off, “it’s not like you’re that interesting to begin with,”

“Sure,” he smirks, and then you glance outside, noticing you were getting further out from home rather than closer.

“Where are we going?” You sit up, glancing around — you didn’t recognize the area.

“Oh, you didn’t think our date was over yet, did you?” his lips curl, his eyes still on the road, “we are just going to a more private location,”

“If you take me to a hotel, I will slap you,” you murmur, and he laughs, a sound that makes your stomach flip.

“I didn’t know a princess’s mind could be in the gutter,” he remarks, his fingers flexing on the wheel, a small infinity tattoo on his ring finger, and your mind really then all but fled to the gutter as you thought what else he could use those fingers for.

“Oh my mind goes a lot of places,” this was growing more dangerous — for your tongue and for your heart.

And he notices your gaze flickering to his hands, and his lips curl, “I think I’d like to familiarize myself with the places your mind goes, Princess,” You flush, “but that’s for a different day.”

“Where are you taking me anyway?”

“We’re almost there, just enjoy the ride,” you eventually pull up to a park, and he leaves the car, opening the door for you, “after you, my lady,”

You slide out of the car, as he shuts the door behind you, and then pulls a basket out of the back, “Is there tape and rope in there?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know you were into that,” he winks, as you glare at him, “it’s a picnic basket - this is a nice spot to watch the sunset,”

“You watch sunsets?”

“Only with you,” you roll your eyes.

“Such a dork - are these the lines you use on all your dates? And don’t say only with me,” you add quickly, and he snorts.

“You catch on quick,” and he takes your hand, leading you along, “come on,”

His hand envelops yours, his fingers eventually intertwining with yours, his warmth flooding your body, but you can’t urge yourself to pull away.

A bottle of sparkling cider and a charcuterie board later, the two of you watch the sun begin its descent, blazing colors bleeding into one another.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, looking over your glass as you sip, “even when we used to hang out, I was the one to bring the snacks,”

“Well times change,” he replies, “plus you’re the one who always stopped me from buying snacks,”

“You always bought only sweets — it was always chocolate, sugar, and desserts,” you roll your eyes, “I see you got over that,”

“Nah, I just decided to buy things I know you like,” and your heart traitorously squeezes, but then he points, “look,” and your gaze falls onto the sunset and you gasp softly.

“It’s beautiful,” you sigh, and you don’t notice Satoru’s gaze on your face, a small smile on his lips.

“It is,” and you look back at him, his eyes shifting to you again.

“You never answered my question,” you say, “why are we doing this?”

“Why wouldn’t we? We’re getting married, Princess, did you forget?” He expertly dodges the question, swiftly leaping over a landmine, but you weren’t one to mince words or hesitate to do a direct assault.

“We’re getting married, it doesn’t mean we have to date,” you tilt your head, “Gojo, tell me—“

“Call me Satoru,” his words are so soft, hesitant even, as if his words could break apart any second if he had spoken them any quieter.

It’s a fragility he doesn’t often grace you with - that’s he’s maybe never given to you, and you don’t wish to break it.

But you’re also scared - scared that this will break yours.

“Satoru,” you whisper, and he smiles — the same smile he’d greet you with when you would meet up after school, the same smile when he’d beat you at whatever game you guys were playing, and the same smile you hadn’t seen in so long, “why are you doing all of this?”

“Is it not obvious?” He’s leaning closer and you only realize that you’re doing the same when your wrist hurts from leaning on your hand.

“Nothing is obvious when it comes to you, Satoru,” his lips warm yours with his breath, and the sun has set - there’s no other explanation for the warmth blooming on your skin other than him—

Ring. Ring. Ring.

His phone ringing sends both of you flinching apart, but his eyes don’t leave you for a lingering moment, before he picks up.

“Hello,” his voice is unwavering even after the moment you shared, you barely hear what he says over the blood thundering in your ears, “yes, we’ll be home shortly. Ok. Bye,”

He turns to look back at you, “My parents were wondering where we went,” and you nod, “we should get back,” and he begins to pack away the things,

“Satoru—“ you start, but he grabs your hands, tugging you forward.

“What?” he smiles, “not ready to part with me yet, princess?”

You scowl, pushing him away, brushing past him to the car, “Forget it,”

And he catches you by your wrist and pulls you back to him, your back against his front, “I don’t want to forget it,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I—”

And his phone rings again, and he sighs, showing you that it was your father this time, putting his phone on silent, “Our parents have impeccable timing,” and the moment is broken, as the two of you walk back to the car in relative silence, the sun long sunk below the horizon, and the moment along with it.

The wedding comes and goes without much ado — it was a private ceremony done with only your families and a few close family friends. And aside from a photo shoot that was to be “leaked” of the two of you looking far too lovey dovey that wound up circulating the media drain and ended up causing you and Satoru to keep a low profile for a week or two, not much of your life changed. The only thing being that you and Satoru slowly start to move in together, each moving your things into separate bedrooms, not that you’re around enough to even notice a shift as the work piled on due to the merger, only accumulates, and as do your late nights.

You come home again, back to your shared apartment, late at night, shutting the door softly behind you. You slip your shoes off, along with your jacket by the door, before setting your things down. You stretch your sore muscles, your stomach crying for mercy of the deprivation you had put it through today, and you allow it to lead you to the kitchen.

Satoru was surprisingly neat, aside from his own room that was a disaster zone not worth entering. The living spaces were always clean, as was the kitchen (though you had a sneaking suspicion he had hired a cleaning service to specifically tidy up when you were gone (due to the lingering lemony scent every surface had at times). You rummage through the refrigerator as quietly as you could, but not quietly enough as the lights flick on, and you feel akin to a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“I feel like I’ve seen the mailman more than my own wife this week,” Satoru stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame of the door, a small grin on his lips, but a hint of something else in his eyes — concern? You don’t have the time to decipher the feeling, as your mind chooses to replay the phrase “my wife” on repeat.

“The merger has been killer to deal with — all the diligence requests has buried us,” you grumble, as you grab a box of cereal off the top of the refrigerator and the milk from the inside, and he’s holding a bowl and a spoon, “thanks,” as you reach for it, he holds it away from you.

“You know there’s something called delegating that you should try sometime, princess,” he says, tilting his head, “otherwise, you’re likely to run yourself into the ground,”

“It sounds like you care,” he puts down the bowl and spoon, grabbing the cereal and milk from you, and fixing a bowl for you, as you rub your eyes, sitting on the stool by the island.

His lips curl, “Who said I didn’t?”

You lay on the counter, staring up at him, “Didn’t know my husband could be anything but annoying,” and you enjoy the way his eyebrows shoot up, and it may have been your tired eyes, but you swore a small pink flush settled his way onto his cheeks, “cute,” you mumble, the word escaping you before you could stop it.

“What?” his eyes snap to yours, but he only finds them closed, the soft snores from your lips told him you weren’t pretending, as he stares at you, biting his lip, before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, “what are you doing to me, princess?” he murmurs.

And the next morning when you wake, you find yourself tucked into bed, as you roll over, to find your alarms had been turned off, and you were far too late to several meetings you had that morning.

You jolt up, before you find a note stuck to your shirt, you pause in your panic, to peel it off and read it:

Canceled your meetings for today and had your staff handle the ones they could deal with. You’re taking a break. You need it. - Satoru.

You wanted to protest, but even as you willed yourself to try and check your email, your body was screaming in agreement with Satoru, and you sighed, lying back down in bed, as you drifted into a dreamless sleep, with the note still in your hand.

~~~~~

“Gojo, get back in bed,” you cross your arms in front of his doorway, “you’re sick,”

“I’m fine,” he pouts, his normally pale skin flushed with a red tinge that gave away his fever, his eyes bloodshot from a restless night, and yet he still looked as perfect as ever, if not a bit rumpled from his askew hair and ruffled clothes, “I have to—”

“Rest,” you say, gently pushing him backwards towards his bed, “you need rest. You made me rest, and now it’s your turn,”

“But—”

“Satoru,” and the use of his name stops him in his tracks, as his knees buckle as his legs hit the end of his bed, “please?”

His resistance crumbles, “Princess, I’m fine—” and you press your forehead to his, making his breath catch, your face far too close far too fast.

“You’re burning up,” you ease him back into bed, as you roll your sleeves up, “will you be okay? I’m going to run out and get some supplies - have you taken any medicine?”

He shakes his head, “You can send out someone,” he says, reaching for his phone, but you grab it, “Princess-“

“I’m texting everyone that you’re sick and that you can’t make it in for the next two days while you recover,” you pocket his phone, putting it on silent, “consider this payback,” and you’re pulling on your jacket, “and I’m going to get you some things. I don’t need to send someone out. Do you want anything? I can’t get anything sweet because it will make your cough worse, but is there anything that you want?”

He shakes his head, as you snap your fingers and head out of the room, before returning with cold medicine, “I’ll give you this for now, and then I’ll grab some more while I’m out,”

You pour the medicine into the cup, and he sits up as best he could, reaching for the medicine cup, but you cup his chin, feeding it to him. He feels like his body is burning hotter from your touch than it is the fever, “I have to make sure you drink all of it, you can’t leave half of it in the cup like you did when we were kids,”

“You remember that?” he mumbles, as you help him lie down again, your hands gentle as you help lean back, and you tilt your head.

“I remember every ridiculous thing you did,” you snort, as you check to make sure you got everything — phone, wallet, keys — “just rest here, and call me if you need anything, ok?” his eyes are already starting to droop, heavy with sleep, and he gives a small nod.

And he catches you by your wrist, “Do you have to go?” he mumbles, pulling your hand close to his face, “I don’t want you to go,” his words slur, and he’s asleep in a moment, his hand still clutching yours to his face, lips brushing against your palm.

Heat flares up your cheeks, as you stand, motionless, his soft snores filling the room, as you manage to tug your hand away, and you stand over him, his mouth in an adorable pout, as sweat glistened on his forehead, white locks sticking to the damp skin. You leave for a moment to grab a cold compress for his forehead, and you come back, brushing his hair back to place the compress on. He shivers ever so slightly, but you just rub his head slowly, and he drifts back into sleep.

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper, and you wonder, how often has Satoru been cared for by maids or employees rather than his family? How often had they passed the buck of caring for their son to others as if it was more of a chore than a privilege to take care of someone they loved.

You leave his phone on video call with yours so you can keep an eye on him as he sleeps, even if you were going down the street, you didn’t want to leave him alone completely. Instead of music, you listened to the cacophony of his soft snores and shifting of his sheets. You grabbed the things you needed - medicine, supply for meals, vitamin water, vitamin c supplements, and anything else you could think of.

You return, door shutting softly behind you as you hang up the call, and set everything down on the counter. You poke your head into Satoru’s room to find him still fast asleep, and you remove the cold compress, going to replace it with a new one, but his hand catches yours as it brushes your forehead, and he mumbles your name.

And you flush — were you sure you weren’t getting sick at this point?

You sigh, running your fingers through his hair, “You’re as touchy as you were when we were kids,” and he was — there wasn’t a moment that Satoru wasn’t all over you before the ages of puberty — holding hands, hugging, even laying on top of you — but it was innocent. But even as you got older, it was poking, it was a leg over yours, it was grabbing your wrist instead of your hand.

And now, your hand was dwarfed by his, consuming your wrist and hand with his own, and it was so warm — though exacerbated by his fever. And you couldn’t help but want to lace your fingers through his. But — you pulled your hand away and replace his cold compress — you couldn’t afford thoughts like that.

Not now.

You cooked soup for him, filled with vegetables and nutrients that he clearly did not get enough of, made freshly squeezed orange juice, and put the supplements you wanted him to take on the tray you had found in the kitchen.

You washed your hands, as you start to clean up, your back to his room, and you hear Satoru say your name.

You turn and see him in the doorway, “What are you doing?”

“I should be asking you that,” he murmurs, rubbing his eyes, “what’s all this?”

“Lunch,” you walk over, waving him back into bed, “you need to rest,”

“Did you make me lunch?” he asks slowly, and you help him back into bed, as he frowns, “you didn’t have—”

“You’re my husband, Satoru,” you say, tilting your head, “I’m going to take care of you and not let you work yourself to the bone while you have a cold,”

And his lips curl at the words slowly, “Your husband,” he repeats, as if the words were foreign to him, and your cheeks flush as your words that were embarrassing enough to say linger in the air, “thank you,” he mumbles, as you nod, trying to calm your utterly burning cheeks before entering with the tray.

Satoru sits in bed still, more coherent than a few minutes before, a small smile on his lips as you enter his view, and you place the tray carefully on his bed, “Will you feed me?” And your eyes flit up to his innocent baby blues full of skies that you couldn’t say no to — and he knew that, “please?”

And now you’re feeding him, your lips carefully blowing on the hot soup as you spoon fed him, and he takes each one, “is it good?”

He nods, “It is, I didn’t know you could cook. The last thing I remember you making me was a microwave brownie that you burned,” and you rolled your eyes.

“That was because you told me to microwave it for too long,” you pout, and he laughs, sending him into a coughing fit, “karma,” and he scowls at you, before his lips split into a grin, “what?”

“Must have been pretty good in my past life,” he says, as you blow on another spoonful, “to end up with a pretty little wife like you, Princess,”

And you nearly drop the spoon, a few droplets slipping from the utensil, as he makes you flustered for the eighteenth time today — “Satoru,” you chide, and you’re not even sure what you are chiding him for — his word on a loop in your mind, “i think you’re high on cold medicine, or your fever,”

You don’t think he had ever called you pretty before.

And he leans forward pressing his forehead to yours, “I have no fever right now,” he whispers, his eyes glancing at the tray, “and I haven’t taken my cold medicine yet,”

Your words catch in your throat, and you’re swallowing thickly, as your eyes drift to his lips and back again, “Toru,” and you can’t lean away from him, he’s pulling you in, like he always did.

But then he pulls back, his cheeks flushed, “I think I should lie down,” and you blink, as you nod hastily.

“Of course,” you grab the tray and flee, leaving his medicine and water on the bedside table, heart thumping against your ribs and blood rushing to your cheeks.

And you don’t hear him grumble, “If only I wasn’t sick.”

After Satoru gets better, you barely see him. It feels empty in the house without his presence. You had grown accustomed to his loud, obtrusive presence, the clothes half thrown in the laundry basket, his snacks stacked up in the pantry and sometimes on the counters, and his cologne wafting through the halls. It seems all of that has faded with time, as he does his best to spend his time at work, and away from you.

After the billionth time of this, you get a phone call from his colleague, Nanami, asking for you to come and fetch him. You furrow your brow as he texts you the address of a bar near his work, and you arrive to find him passed out at a table, drink glasses and small plates littered the tabletop, his pale skin flushed, as he snored slightly as he slept.

His colleague too was flushed, but still sat with drink in hand looking utterly irritated and bemused, “How much did he drink?”

“Maybe two drinks?” and you raise an eyebrow, “he’s a lightweight, but he likes to pretend he isn’t,” he snorts, shaking his head, “did you two have a fight?”

You tilt your head, as you check on him, fingers brushing over his skin — he was so warm from the alcohol, “No, why do you ask?”

And Satoru is mumbling your name, again and again, pouting, “Is that you, my wife?” you flush, and that was your cue to get him out of there. Nanami helps you get him to his work car, luckily that came equipped with a driver, and you slide in beside him, as he dozes, his head drifting to your shoulder. His breath is warm against your neck, as he nestles into the soft skin of your nape, and you can feel his lips move, only catching your name between soft sighs and snores.

“Satoru,” you mutter, brushing his hair from his eyes, “what did you do?”

The driver helps you get him inside, and you’re left with him, his body leaning against yours on the couch, as you rouse him, “Satoru, wake up,” your hands cup his cheeks, and his eyes flutter open blearily.

You can still smell the scent of alcohol on his breath — and you know it’s sweet from the scent that drifts from him. Sometimes you wonder if he would taste sweet with how much sugar he consumes, but you brush that thought to the back of your head, as he finally speaks.

“Are you a dream?” he murmurs, and you have to suppress your laugh at his puppy dog stare.

“Don’t think so, Satoru,” you pinch his cheek lightly, “see? I’m real,”

He smiles, so gentle that it almost takes you aback, “Too real,” his hand slides over yours, flattening it against his cheek, “your hand is so soft, just like when we were kids, and we’d always hold hands anywhere we went,”

You swallow thickly, wondering if your cheeks were hotter than his were from the alcohol, “Well my family hasn’t sold me into manual labor yet, so they’ll stay that way,” and his eyes widen almost comically.

“I wouldn’t let them do that,” he says, almost every other word slurred, “can’t do that to my wife,” and your traitorous heart squeezes, despite itself, despite everything telling you that it didn’t mean anything — that he was drunk — and the million other reasons to brush it away, your heart does what it does best — takes it to heart, “I missed you so much,”

And he’s burying his face in your shoulder, warm breath against your skin making you shiver as you hold him gently, “then why have you been avoiding me?” He’s mumbling into your shoulder now, as you can’t help but laugh, “Stop, you’re tickling me.”

And his stare lifts and settles upon you, stopping your breath in its tracks, “I didn’t want to avoid you, I just was…” he mumbles something incoherent, “I couldn’t face you,”

“Why?” and it’s objectively cute the way he pouts, his face scrunching up like a child, his brow adorably furrowed, as he mutters under his breath slurred words you can’t make out, “let’s get you to bed — if you promise not to avoid me anymore,” you hold up a finger to his face.

He nods, lips still in the same pout, “promise,” he murmurs, as you help him into bed, but as you do, he grabs you, tugging you into bed with him with a yelp, his arms trapped you against him, as his face snuggles into your back, “stay,”

Your skin burns at his touch, his face buried into your back, his arms wrapped impossibly around you, “Satoru—”

“Please?” and the resistance you have crumbles, as you sigh, relaxing as best you could into his touch, “thank you, Princess,” he mumbles something else you can’t make out, before falling asleep.

And you bite your lip, ignoring how your skin feels under his touch — how were you ever going to sleep now?

But you do.

Satoru wakes with a slightly pounding head, a small groan caught in the back of his throat, as he stirs at the bright sunlight streaming in, his eyes fluttering awake to find you. His breath catches, as he stares at you. Your mouth slightly ajar, you softly snore as you sleep, your head resting against his arm, and he swallows thickly, as memories of last night trickle in.

And he nearly groans. He had avoided you to stop himself, to hold himself back from embarrassing himself, and he had gone and pulled you into bed with him after getting drunk. How pathetic was it that it only took you referring to him as your husband for all his walls to come crumbling down? Not that those walls ever stood a chance against you — it was easy for him to pull away from everyone, as if he had a barrier around him, stopping anything from coming near. But you — you were one thing that could penetrate his infinity — and the one thing he wanted to be infinite, if only for him.

His cheeks burn at his revelations and he can only be thankful you’re still asleep as he stares at you — god, he had almost let it slip twice last night. He had mumbled it twice, but from what he remembered, you hadn’t made out the words.

His cheeks burned, god he had said the words twice, and you didn’t even hear him, but the words had left his lips. And how many years had he been waiting to say them?

His fingers caress your cheek, making sure you were still asleep before he said them for a third time, “I love you.”

“How many social events must be inflicted upon us?” you mutter, pressed next to Satoru at the bar, as Satoru sips a soda instead of the alcohol they offered — if only to avoid the disaster that was the last time. But still, the lack of alcohol only makes your touch worse without its dulling effects, “and why did we need to go to this?”

“C’mon sweetheart, it’s not so bad,” Satoru smiles, his eyes skimming over your new suit that you had donned for the occasion, “I like seeing you all dressed up,”

“Well I rather be dressed down at home,” and he raises an eyebrow and you flush, “i mean in a t-shirt and shorts, you absolute perv,”

“Whatever you say, princess,” and you’re too busy elbowing him to notice who's walking over, until you hear your name.

You spot Satoru’s eyes narrow, his lips pursed, as you spot Suguru holding a hand up in greeting, patented grin on his lips, “Yo!”

“Suguru, it’s good to see you,” you greet, as he sweeps you up in a hug, and you shoot a look at Satoru, nudging him to be polite at the very least.

“Satoru, long time no see,” Suguru says, and Satoru plasters a fake smile on his lips.

“It has been,” and the three of you make pleasant small talk about your work — Suguru’s family was in a business adjacent to the work your families did.

“I heard about the merger your companies are doing, how have preparations been?” you open your mouth to answer, but Satoru gets to it first, his arm curling around your waist.

“It’s been going well, our marriage was the first step after all, wasn’t it, baby?” and you flush as Satoru does, doing your best not to glare at him.

“It was,” you smile, as Suguru raises his eyebrows.

“I hadn’t heard you both had married — congratulations,”

And then you’re beckoned by your family, and you slip away for a moment, going to speak to them about one thing or another, leaving Satoru and Suguru alone.

“It’s too bad we lost touch all these years,” Satoru sips at his drink.

“You don’t have to say that, Satoru,” Suguru replies, his grin melting away, “I know part of the reason was the business with our families companies, but I also know that it was personal,” and Satoru follows his eyes to you, as you laugh at something your mother said, “how has married life been treating you both?”

And Satoru glares, his grip tight around his glass, “Is your interest personal?”

“It’s not, but I see that you still haven’t been honest with each other,” he smiles over the lip of his drink, “was this marriage arranged by your families?” and Satoru’s silence was enough to confirm it, “well you should be careful, a marriage is a fragile thing, especially without love,”

“Is that a threat?” and Suguru’s dark irises meet his, full of mirth.

“No, just an observation, Satoru,” and you make your re-appearance, looking between the pair, sensing the tension, as your hand curls around Satoru’s, “It was lovely seeing you both. I hope to see more of you.”

And with that he’s gone, “What was that about?” you ask slowly, and Satoru can’t meet your gaze, only sipping his soda, “Satoru?”

“It’s nothing, princess, don’t worry about it,” and you tilt your head, your brow furrowed.

“That’s it,” you sigh, as you glance between the two of them, Suguru’s gaze still lingering on the two of you, “I know what this is about,” you declare, stepping ever closer to Satoru, your fingers brushing at his shoulder, sending his heart into a gallop.

“Princess—” your hand is sliding up his neck, brushing at his undercut, and your lips curl.

“I didn’t know you had an undercut,” and he can’t form words to respond to you, as you tug him closer, your lips were so close now, “it’s kind of hot,” and his mouth is so dry, his eyes can’t help but flicker down to your lips again, as you lean forward, pulling his head closer, closer, closer—

And you kiss him, it's barely a brush at first, but then you pull him in again, and he can taste the wine on your lips now, as your lips meet, his eyes fluttering shut as his hand slides to cup your face, the other around your waist. And finally you part, small pants leaving your lips, as your fingers toy with the hair resting on the back of his neck, smiling at him, as if you had done this a million times before.

And he wanted to do it a million times more. His fingers trace the length of your jaw, delighting in the shiver you give as he touches you, and wondering what other noises he could pull from you.

“Is he still watching?” you whisper, as you smooth over his collar, and he blinks, his eyes following yours to Suguru, who glances at the two of you before looking away, “think we convinced him?”

And his heart sinks just as high as it had soared, “what?” he murmurs, confused.

“He suspected us, right?” you continue with the phony smile on your lips, the heated lust in your gaze, and your soft touches — and it was all enough to break him.

But he doesn’t. He’s Satoru Gojo — he can’t be allowed to break.

So he gives a smile instead, “Yeah, I think we convinced him.”

He can’t help be quiet on the drive home, and he senses your unease, fidgeting in the seat beside him, your attempts to fill the silence falling on deaf ears, and you eventually stop trying, settling to look out of the window instead, until the two of you pull inside your driveway.

You both head inside, and the door shuts behind you, and he watches you struggle to take off your heels, the buckle not cooperating, as you lift your leg to undo it.

But then he’s kneeling before you, undoing your heels for you, as you stammer, “No, Gojo, you don’t have to—”

But his touch is gentle as he helps you out of your heels, one by one, his fingers brushing against your ankles, and then he rises, and for a split second, you forgot how tall he really was.

“No, I want to, because you’re my wife,” and his fingers brush against your jaw. “And I want your thoughts to be of me when I touch you, and not of someone else,” and he tilts your chin up, thumb dragging against your lips before he kisses you.

It was gentle but insistent — and far, far too fleeting, as he pulls away, “and I’ve told you before — I’m your husband, call me Satoru.”

And with that he’s gone, leaving you speechless and alone in your entryway.

You can’t sleep. For several nights.

You replay the moment over and over, the kiss, his words, and all of it.

What the fuck. Were you really up all night because of Satoru Gojo? You lay on your stomach, kicking your feet in frustration as you bury your hot face in your pillow. Your husband was going to be the death of you.

And especially with tomorrow.

Satoru’s family was hosting an event to announce the merger, and you stood in your bathroom, getting ready. You had opted for a baby blue dress that Satoru had picked for you when he had insisted on taking you shopping. He had winked and said you could wear his gaze this way. And you had only rolled your eyes at the time, but now it felt you could feel his eyes upon you.

“You look beautiful,” and you whirl around to find him standing in your doorway, a small smile on your lips, and you flush. It doesn’t go unnoticed, “is that all it takes to embarrass you now, Princess? I used to have to work a lot harder,”

You glare at him, “Shut up,” and your eyes flick to his untied tie, and it’s unspoken, as you walk over to tie his tie for him, “how did you even tie this the day of the formal if you don’t know how to?”

“I didn’t wear one,” he shrugs, his attention making you mess up the knot twice, “I only went to make you jealous anyway,”

Your fingers pause, as your eyes meet, “What?”

“I don’t want to play games anymore, Princess,” the back of his fingers brush against your cheek, “or at least, if I’m going to play, I’m going to play to win,” and you continue tying his tie, if only to distract yourself from your stomach doing flips, “do you know how it feels to want someone for so long only to end up married, but it’s not either of your choice?” And you swallow, not daring to look at him, “because I do.”

“Satoru,” your hands are shaking now, “I-“

“I don’t expect an answer, I don’t expect anything to change,” he adjusts his tie as you finish, turning his collar down, his blue button up matching your dress perfectly, “but I wanted you to know where I stood, and know wherever you are,” his gaze rakes over your form, the same color as the dress than clung to your skin, “I’ll always be here for you,”

“Satoru—“ but he gets a call — as always with impeccable timing, his parents were asking when they would be arriving. He hangs up shortly after, offering his arm with a smile.

“Shall we?” And you take his arm, ignoring the flip your heart does when his arm curls around yours.

The drive over is uneventful, but not the same can be said for the event itself. The merger event was being held at Satoru’s childhood home — the home Satoru had grown up in and around — and never wanted to be at.

“Are you okay?” you ask, your arm still curled around Satoru’s arm, as you glance at him, his shoulders tense and lips tight, before your concern makes the tension melt away a moment, rolling off his shoulders like snow on a spring day.

“I’m fine,” and you’re unconvinced, “just this place is like time has stood still,” he chuckles, his eyes finding the place where the two of you had cracked the chandelier fucking around with a ball inside, “look, still there,”

You snort, “I’m surprised your mother never noticed,”

“She did, she gave me hell for it,” he sips his drink, “I just didn’t tell you,”

“Why?”

“There was a lot I didn’t tell you,” his eyes snap to yours, his pain almost too visceral as he glances around the room he had grown up in — and you could feel him in this room, the ghost of his past roaming the halls, “why do you think I spent so much time at your house?”

“Because of my incredible company?” you half-joke, lips forced into a small smile, but he laughs, rolling his eyes.

“That too,” he hums, his fingers tracing up and down against your wrist sending a wave of heat down your spine.

“Well, you always have an escape now, don’t you?” you intertwine your fingers, “our home is always graced with the presence of your wife,”

He grins, the first actual smile you had seen all evening, “How lucky for you that it’s also graced with the presence of your incredibly handsome husband,”

And you open your mouth to respond, before Satoru’s father interrupts, his hand on Satoru’s shoulder, making him stiffen, “Son,” and his icy blue eyes slide to you, “and my daughter, would you mind if I steal my son for a moment?” it always struck you how different his eyes were from Satoru — the coldness as opposed to the warmth.

You glance at Satoru, and he gives a slight nod, “No, of course not,” you step away, as he pulls Satoru into a side room, and you linger nearby for him, mingling as best you can, when Satoru emerges, eyes downcast and fists clenched, “Satoru-“

“I’m okay,” he plasters on an easy smile, “it’s fine—“

“We’re leaving,” you grab his hand, “let’s go,” and he’s staring at you, as you drag him from the party, wordless.

“But your parents, my parents—”

“Have done enough for us already,” you say, and the two of you walk to the car in silence, “I can drive—”

“It’s ok, I got it,” and you both shut the doors, as he begins to drive. The ride home is quiet, and you glance at him here and there, but you hold your tongue, “you’re not going to ask?”

“It’s your dad - do I need to ask?” You scoff, “It may has been years but I know he’s nothing but a bully — especially to you,”

You may have been young, but you remembered the phone calls Satoru would get, the lectures about his potential and responsibilities as the next heir, the scoldings he’d get for anything less than perfect. And you remembered the look he had the next day — the same one he had when he had come out of that room.

And you couldn’t protect him then, but you could do it now.

He sighs as he pulls the car into the driveway, “You don’t deserve that, Toru,”

“Then what do I deserve?” And he meets your gaze with glassy eyes, and you give a small smile, your fingers reaching for him, brushing along his jaw.

“Love,” and you lean across the gap of the console, across the line you had drawn, across the misunderstandings you had, and you chose him. Your fingers cup his cheek, drawing him close, as you hear his breathe hitch, “can I—”

“You don’t need to ask me even once, Princess,” and you kiss him, your lips grazing his again and again, until your lips finally slide against each other, deepening it as he presses himself against you, hand bearing against the armrest between the two of you. And you can taste the sweet taste of the strawberry dessert that he all but inhaled at the party, the hint of the soda he drank instead of wine, and something that tasted utterly and perfectly of him.

“Toru,” you murmur, but his lips keep finding yours, and you can’t breathe much less think, “I—”

He silences you with another kiss, his fingers finding purchase on the back of your neck as he tugs you impossibly closer, before his lips are tracing a path down your jaw.

“What was that, sweetheart?” he smiles against your skin, “you what?”

“You’re insufferable, you’re endlessly frustrating, and I swear I want to murder you at least twice a day,” and he smiles, as you gasp as his teeth graze your pulse, “but you’re also my best friend, and I—“ you make him meet your eyes, fingers cupping his chin, ocean blue eyes drowning you with their gaze, “I love you,”

And he blinks ever so slowly, before his lips curl into the most beautiful smile you had seen, before he��s kissing you again, as you gasp, “Toru—”

“I’m never going to stop now, Princess,” he grins endlessly, as he presses his forehead to yours, dragging a thumb down your kiss ruined lips, “waited too long for you, but I’d wait a million years to do that again,”

“So should I make you wait?” you tease, and he’s looking like a kicked puppy, pouting and wide eyed, before he’s pressing butterfly kisses to your face, and you’re laughing, “I’m just kidding, baby—”

And he pauses, “‘Baby?’” and his grin is a million watt, as he kisses you again, “never thought I’d see the day you’d call me a pet name,”

Your noses brush as you both laugh, “Well, you are a big baby,” and he pouts again, and you kiss them, “but you’re my baby,”

And you barely remember how you manage to stumble into your home. Frantic touches and hurried kisses and fumbling keys. As soon as the door slams shut, he has you pressed against it, fingers busy with undoing your buttons, as he grins against your mouth.

“Know how long I wanted you? How long I dreamt of this?” he bites your bottom lip, “had to call you my wife before i could call you mine — thought about you dating Suguru, about all the times I wanted to lean over during our movie nights as kids and just kiss you — and how much I regretted it,”

“So you admit you’ve been pining for me,” you gasp as his teeth drag against your neck now, biting and sucking, as your fingers thread through his white locks, “Satoru,” you moan, biting your lip.

“Judging by that moan, I’m not the only one,” he smiles cheekily, his hands sliding down your back to rest at the back of your thighs, large palms and thick fingers pressing through the all too thin tulle of your dress, “can’t wait to see how fuckin’ wet you are for me, Princess.”

You gasp at his vulgar words, a rush of heat that leaves your legs shaking under his touch, “Now whose mind is the gutter?” You tease, your fingers tugging at his tie, unfurling the knot.

“Always has been when it’s come to you, want to make this perfect princess filthy,” he coos, and he’s pulling you up against the door, your hands wrapped around his neck, “wanna make my beautiful little wife scream my name, don’t I?”

“Toru—“ you gasp as his teeth graze along your chest, tugging the neckline of your dress impossibly low, “you’re going to rip it—“ and he does, pulling the fabric apart with ease, “what the fu—“ and he’s swallowing your swears with his tongue.

“I’ll buy you another,” he grins, “in fact I’ll buy you any amount you want, as long as you keep letting me do this,”

And he’s peeling the dress off of you, dress falling to the floor in a shamble of tulle, and your skin flushes at the air hitting your bare skin, and shivers at the feeling of his sharp breath against your neck.

“How are you so fucking perfect?” he sighs, burying his face in the nape of your neck, pressing butterfly kisses down your collarbone, “I should get an award for patience — not being able to touch you, to kiss you, but living with you?”

His fingers are skimming down your underwear now, snapping the waistband against your skin, you gasp, “Fuck, Toru,” you whimper, “thought you’d talk less during this,” your fingers are undoing his shirt now.

“Oh I can think of a few things that could shut me up,” his lips curl deviously, and you’re slipping his shirt off his shoulders, your lips pressing to his collarbone.

“I don’t think you’d even shut up from that,” as he shivers when your teeth graze his soft skin, “I think you’ll only whine more,”

And his gaze is hot as his eyes meet yours again, as he grasps at your thighs and picks you up, “let’s see who’s the one whining at the end of this,” you squeal, grasping into his shoulders, as he carries you into his bedroom, as he settles you down on his bed. His eyes raking over you, panting and disheveled, he drags his thumb down your bottom lip, “can’t believe you’re all mine, Princess,”

“Satoru,” you’re reaching for him, but he pins your hand to the bed, “wha—“

“Patience, baby,” he purrs, as he presses his lips to your wrist, “let me enjoy you,”

He’s so pretty it’s unfair - the way his breath hits your skin steals yours, pretty pink lips parted as he runs his tongue over them, the same ache between your legs longing for that tongue between them. But it leaves you with so little of the patience he asks you to have — especially after over a decade of this in the making.

And your impatience is evident, you suppose, by the pout on your lips, and he laughs, “Want a kiss, baby?”

You don’t have the time to say you want much more than a kiss, as he humors you with a kiss, lips teasing you with their sweet taste, and you don’t fail to notice his smile as you lean up into his touch. And suddenly his hands brush down your bare sides, squeezing your hips, and you’re gasping, “Feel good, Princess? We’ve barely started—“

“You keep teasing me and I’ll make you regret it,” you grumble, between breathless kisses, the bite of your words dampened by the soft pants that leave your lips, “Toru, I swear—“

And his thumb presses against the wet patch on your underwear, flimsy layer of soaked fabric barely doing a thing to hide your arousal, “Not acting like a good little girl for me,” he tuts, as you keen against his touch, gasping as you throw your head back as he grinds his fingers against your puffy clit, “all it took was one touch to have you so pliant, huh? Should’ve done this a long time ago,”

“Stop,” you whine, and his grin only grows larger with such self satisfaction, you don’t know if your lust addled brain wants you to strangle his neck or his cock, “please, just—“

“Just what?” And his fingers are breaching past your underwear, just barely touching the outer lips of your cunt, “come on, Princess, use your big girl words, or are you already fucked stupid before I’ve barely touched you?”

“Motherfuck—“

“I will be one once I get my needy little wife pregnant, won’t I?” And his long fingers finally tug down your underwear — the wet schlick of the sticky fabric hitting the floor make him drag his teeth over those beautiful lips, “but we got plenty of time for that, after all,” his fingers tease the outer lips of your throbbing pussy, “practice makes perfect,”

And he sinks a long finger knuckle deep — and a whine crawls its way out of your throat, his fingers were thicker than yours were — and so much better. His thumb teases your clit in tight circles as he begins to tease your walls, reaching deep, deep, deeper, your slick starting to drip onto his palm, “God, you’re soaking me, Princess,” and your hips can’t resist the urge to grind against his touch, “oh, and where’s that mouth now?” you can barely see much less talk, words failing as he begins to stretch you out - his other large palm rested against your thigh, keeping your legs nice and spread for him.

He’s grinning, he sinks another finger into you, teasing your walls apart, beginning to finger fuck you in earnest, “my mouthy girl just needed to be fucked right? Didn’t she?” And all you can hear are the filthy sounds of your cunt, as his fingers piston in and out, “nothing to say, Princess?” And he spanks your pussy, making you yelp, a whine leaving your throat, “and you thought I’d be whiny, look at you now, baby,” his fingers cup your chin to force your glassy eyes to meet his darkened blues, “such a good fucked out wife for me,”

And a third finger joining right as he brushed against a spot that had you seeing stars as his thumb bullied your clit, eyes rolling back as he did, and he’s grinning, “my perfect princess and her perfect little pussy,”

You came with his name on your lips, panting and shaking as he held you steady, his fingers dripping with your release, as he pulled away, watching your cunt twitch around nothing, aching for his fingers.

You're coming down from your high, chest rising and falling, as you watch him gather your release on his fingers, toying with your cunt, before he sucks them clean, “Fuck,” you whimper, as he licks and cleans himself of your cum, “Toru-“

“Fuck, baby, how’ve I resisted tasting you for so long?” And he’s bending down as he noses your thighs, making your hips jolt, still sensitive from your orgasm as he deeply inhaled, tip of his tongue darting out to lick your release from your thighs, “smell as sweet as you taste,” he hums, your legs trying to close, but his palms keep them spread, “can’t keep a man from his vices, can we baby?”

And his tongue teases your cum that pooled from your orgasm, the tip hot and wet as it tastes it, “tastes when better coming from this filthy princess cunt,” he grins against your thigh, teeth grazing your skin, making you lurch.

“T-Toru, please,” fuck you hated how needy you sounded, but you needed more — but he’s leaning away, pressing his cheek against the soft plush of your thigh.

“Need you to do something me first, sweetheart,” and his fingers are drawing teasing infinities on your thighs, “tell me how much you want me,”

“Fuck you,” you groan, “I know what you’re gonna say,” you add, cutting off his snappy retort of “I’m trying to,” “I want you, Satoru, please, I’ve wanted this for too long,” and your voice grows more teasing, “how long is my husband going to keep me waiting?”

And his eyes darken, the slight flush on his cheeks growing deeper, as his mouth presses a wet kiss to your sopping pussy, “good girl, think you deserve a reward,” and he’s manhandling your thighs, spreading them wide, as he buries his face in your cunt, “such a good little wife deserves to be eaten out,”

And eating is exactly what he does - you had only seen Satoru eat sweets with the same voracity he devoured you, pressing his thick fingers into your thighs as he splayed you out as his mouth pressed wet kisses to your dripping lips. His hot tongue drags up the length of your cunt, “best fucking thing I’ll ever taste, know what my last meal will be,” he’s murmuring against you, making you twitch, as he looks up at you with half lidded eyes and saliva and slick covered lips, “awww my pretty pussy begging to be filled? Well I can do that for you, baby,” and he’s burying his tongue in your messy hole.

The moan that leaves your lips leaves his cock harder and hurting, he didn’t know you could make such a lewd noise, and he couldn’t wait to make you make it again and again. He’s making out with your pussy at this mouth, your hips doing their best to grind against him, desperate for more, more, more.

And your fingers find his shoulders first, before sliding up to his hair, pressing him further against you, “you’re so fucking cute,” he murmurs, as he spreads your folds with his thumbs before tongue fucking you. His tongue teases and abuses your walls, deeper and deeper, before he pulls back to flick his tongue over your clit, making you moan even louder, “neighbors are gonna hear you at this rate, baby,” but he only sucks at your clit, harshly, “oh well, they know we’re newlyweds,” he’s humming as his ears hear your broken whines and pants, body tensed up against his.

And you’re so wet now, your slick drips down his jaw, mixed with his spit, “you’re all mine now, baby, can’t live without tasting you now—“ and he groans when your hips buck into his mouth again, feeling your walls twitch, “I know you’re close, Princess, tell me how good it feels,”

“S’good, Toru, I can’t—“ you’re pulling at his soft white locks now, making him grunt, and you fall apart, back arching as you cum as all you can hear are the squelching sounds of his tongue and mouth as he continues to eat you out through your orgasm.

And you’re twitching under him as he sucks up every bit of your cum, “so fucking good for me,” he’s finally pulling himself from your messy pussy, “can’t wait to feel you around me, should’ve known you have a little princess cunt,”

And he’s licking his lips and chin clean, as you watch him with half lidded eyes, still panting, as your eyes skim down his body, his jacket had been thrown aside at some point, but his now wrinkled shirt is only messily untucked from his dress pants, and disheveled was too good of a look on him, but you rather see those clothes on the floor of your bedroom, “you’re still annoyingly dressed,” you manage between breaths, still aching from his ministrations, “strip,”

He’s raising an eyebrow, a wicked grin on his lips, “So demanding for someone who was moaning my name a second ago,” but you pull yourself up, supporting yourself on a shaky arm while you use the other to tug on his tie, smashing his lips to yours.

You unfurl the very tie you tied, fingers flying to unbutton his shirt, “Made me feel so good, baby,” and now you were kneeling in front of him, your release slipping down your thighs, as you slipped his shirt off his shoulders, tossing it aside, heated eyes raking over his bare chest, tongue running over your lips, “only fair if I repay the favor,”

You’re undoing his belt for him, pulling it free from the loops, as your hand grazes his noticeable bulge in his suit pants, “surprised you haven’t ripped through,” you squeeze lightly, making his hips jerk, as he pouts all too cutely — and now you knew why he always teased you, “didn’t you tell me to have patience, love?”

“Your husband is running low on that at the moment, never been one to be patient, sweetheart,” he’s gritting his teeth, as you slip his pants off leaving him only in boxers.

Your eyes are glued to his erection, visible through the damp front of his boxers, wet with his precum, “so fuckin’ big, even better than I thought,” you say almost with reverence, and his lip quivers at the praise, a quiet groan leaving his throat. You raise an eyebrow, “like to be praised, baby boy?”

And he swallows, adam's apple bobbing, sweat on his forehead from his treatment of you, but a red flush deepens on his skin, “Princess,” it’s half a warning and half a plea—and morphs into a whimper as your fingers tease the head of his cock through his boxers, rubbing his precum into the fabric, “f-fuck, s’good with those hands, sweetheart,”

“Imagine how much better it’d be with your boxers out of the way,” you say leaning down and licking at the tip through the sticky fabric, as his head falls back with a soft moan, “can’t wait to feel this between my legs,” as you kiss the clothed tip, two fingers slipping in only to snap the waistband of the boxers against his skin, and he’s biting back a moan, a pout on his kiss ruined lips, “god, you’re so pretty,”

Another noise in the back of his throat, “Fuck, Princess,” he hissed, as you finally spare him, pulling his boxers off, his erection slapping against his too fucking incredible abs — how was he so unfairly perfect? He was so gorgeous — more long than girthy, but he was so thick still, and flushed red with pearly pre-cum at the tip. Each vein and curve felt as if he was made for you.

“All this for me, baby?” You tease, as his mouth opens and then closes as your fingers tease the head of his cock, a sharp inhale that keeps echoing in your ears, “all turned on from eating me out, huh?” You move close, nearly straddling him, but you don’t let your cunt brush against his cock — not yet.

And his dick twitches in your hand, “Sweetheart,” he whimpers, eyes nearly glassy with need, “such a fucking tease,”

And your lips curl, “Match made in heaven, baby,” you rub your thumb against his flushed tip, spreading the pre-cum along his shaft, “can’t wait to taste you, wonder if you taste as sweet as what you eat,” licking your lips, and he’s biting his lip, “tell me what you want, Toru,”

“Y’know what I want, Princess,” he’s panting as you lean forward to kiss him, lips sliding against his, just as your palm starts to stroke him, his moan is nearly pornographic, words spilling from his mouth, “want your pretty pussy around my cock, sweetheart, plesse,”

“Not so fast, baby,” you hum, your other hand moving to tease his balls, achingly full, judging by the gasp that left his throat, “wanna take my time with you, like you did with me, right?” And he breaks your kiss with a whine, “you feel so good in my hands, Toru, been thinking about this cock for too long,” and he’s grunting, lips parted as he pants, burying his face in your shoulder.

“How good?” he mumbles, and you’re grinning even wider — the great Satoru Gojo fell to pieces with only your touch and some praise, his face beautifully flushed as you tug him by the back of his hair, thumb running over his undercut as you do.

“So good that I wanna make you fall apart over and over until my name is the only thing on your lips,” you squeeze the base of his dick, making his hips jump, “gonna be a good boy for me and let me do it?”

And he’s nodding, utterly fucked out even before you’ve even started. And you guide him to the end of the bed, as you get on your knees for him, his gaze darkening as he watches you lean down to press your lips to the tip of his weeping erection, making him groan your name. And you trace his slit with the tip of your tongue, tasting his salty release, “How long you gonna tease me baby? I’m being so good for you,” he’s whining, his baby blues fluttering with lust as he looks down at you, choking as he sees how his precum paints your lips, “please, fuck, just—“

And you finally guide his cock into your mouth, and he’s jerking at the sensation and groaning as he watches your pretty little mouth take his length — those same smart lips that always had a reply for everything, the ones he’d jerked off to the thought of this very situation — you on your knees for him, the ones he’d wanted around him for so long — it was too much.

He almost blew his load all too fast, your warm mouth all too accommodating to his cock, as your wet walls and tongue swirl around him, tasting and sucking, your fingers grasping his thighs. And you bob up and down his length, the weight of his cock making the ache between your legs worse, and your eyes flicker up, and moan as you watch him.

He’s so fucking gorgeous — panting and so fucked out, as his lips part for you, your name leaving his kissed red lips, teeth baring down on his bottom lip, “Fuck, my little wife is so pretty on her knees,” as his hands settle on your head, watching you sink your mouth down on his cock, pleasure running up his spine, as his thick fingers dig into your scalp, “so nasty, baby, fuuuuck, gonna fuck your throat at this rate,” he groans, “how’d you get so good at this baby? Don’t answer that,” he adds, a growl in his words, and you almost giggle around his dick.

“Learned so I could blow you, husband, after all, this mouth is yours,” you grin, and his lips curl too and then they part as he grunts, as you press teasing kisses along his length before sliding it back into your mouth, beginning to let the tip hit the back of your throat. You gag on him, making him moan, as he helps you deepthroat him, his hips thrusting against you lightly, his white pubes brushing against your face.

And he’s moaning even louder, as he watches you, drool slipping down your chin as he fucks your mouth, tongue massaging him as he did, “Made just to fuck me, huh? Want my load that bad, Princess?” And his words have your eyes rolling back as he’s moving against you, his cock twitching telling you that he’s close, “shiiit, fuck, my wife’s a slut for me, gonna swallow my cum baby?”

“Only for you,” you pull away a moment, a string of spit connecting your lips to his dick, smiling, before you slip him back into your too eager mouth, and you hollow your cheeks, the lewd noises of your tongue and mouth sending him over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, gonna cum, baby, can I cum in—“ and you make his tip brush your throat again as you suck, looking at him with half lidded, dilated eyes. And he spills into your mouth, hot cum down your throat, as he holds your head gently in place, “shit Princess,” his hips jumping at the sight of you, cum and spit slipping from the corner of your mouth as you pull his cock from you, “s’good for me,”

He’s still panting, as you climb into his lap properly, his cock sliding against your cunt, making his face twist in pleasure, as you lick your mouth clean of him, wiping your chin, “Taste so good, Toru,” you hum, his eyes half lidded with pleasure, chest still heaving, as he leans back on shaky arms, “you may be my favorite meal, but I think I rather,” you grind on his lap teasingly dragging his tip against your messy cunt, “have you cum inside me,”

And he gives a delicious gasp, “baby, too sensitive,” but you’re tilting his chin back as you meet his lips, both of you moaning as you taste yourselves on the other’s lips, “you’re gonna be the death of me, Princess,” he’s chuckling, as he starts to grab your thighs, putting you properly into his lap, “you gonna ride me like a good little princess? Fuck yourself on my cock?”

How does he have the upper hand when you’re the one on top?

As you feel yourself clench around nothing at his words, and he’s sliding your body back and forth, his cock slapping and sliding against your wrecked cunt, so close to sinking in. His hand bears down on your ass, slapping it, before his fingers squeeze it, making you jump against him, your chest brushing against his, “you like that huh?” he’s grinning, as he kisses you again, his lips sliding against you, swallowing your moans eagerly, “what do you want, baby? Remember to say please,” he adds, and you want to roll your eyes, but his fingers rub your clit, and any protest you had fled your mind.

“Please,” and you’re using your fingers to part yourself above him, making his eyes roll back, as you grasp his cock, teasing your dripping cunt with the head of his dick, “fuck me,”

And you sink onto him, inch by inch, as your head looks back, your walls squeezing as he parted your folds, “You’re drenching me, sweetheart, fucking perfect princess cunt is gonna wring me dry,” he grunts, as his fingers splay over your hips, grasping but not pushing, letting you go at your pace, “s’good, might just have to fill you up, again and again,” and your pussy twitches at that thought drawing a laugh from him lips, “you want that? My wife wants to be full of my cum,” he’s groaning when you finally fit all of his cock in you, cunt clamping down on him, “trying to break my cock? Don’t have to go that far to keep me, I’m living in this sweet cunt from now on,”

You’re a mess — whining and moaning, your chest bouncing as you begin to move against him, “Toru, so full, s’good,” his own hips jumping against yours, a low growl in his throat, as his hands begin to guide your hips, snapping his own hips as he fucks you onto his own cock, reaching new depths, as your eyes squeeze shut, “fuckfuckfuuuck, Toru,” you’re babbling and moaning his name, again and again — and he just needs more.

And he’s spanking you, hands coming down on your ass, as he grunts, your warm walls twitching and squeezing him, brushing against sweet spots that have both of you groaning, “such a fucking good girl, taking my cock — I know you can take more, baby, my perfect wife,” and he’s capturing your nipple in his mouth, teeth grazing it before he sucks, his hips growing even faster, until his cock finds your special spot.

“Toru, g’nna cum, I—“ And your orgasm hits you, head thrown back as your lips part in a silent scream, toes curling as you wrap your legs around his waist, and he’s fucking you right through — fucking relentless, almost limitless, with his pace, groaning as he watches his the base of his cock covered in your release, a pool of white that almost has him cumming then and there.

“S’ fuckinh pretty, Princess, and all mine,” he says, as you moan, as he slows his pace, your face buried in his shoulder, as you come down from your high, and he’s tilting your head.

But he isn’t done yet.

In a moment, he’s pulling his cock out — a whine parting your mouth — as he manhandles you so that you’re flat on your back, your ankles thrown over his shoulders, and spread wide for him. You’re the picture of filth — lips in a kiss ruined pout, chest rising and falling as you gaze up at him with needy eyes, and your perfect cunt leaking and drenched for him — he could see everything — all of you, the way your cum slid down your hole, the way it clenched around nothing, the pretty pink insides he was desperate to make his.

He licks his lips, “soaking my lap and sheets with your cum, baby, such a dirty girl,” and he’s spreading your lips, letting your release trickle out.

“Satoru,” you whine as he runs a finger over your still twitching pussy, as if begging for his cock back, “please, too sensitive,”

“Please what, sweetheart? Because your cunt seems to disagree,” his chuckle is a deep noise that reverberates through his chest as he leans down to press your lips to yours in a languid kiss, “such a nerdy princess, imagine how’d your family would feel — seeing you beg for my cock, huh? Not the chaste little princess anymore? Nah, you’re my filthy baby,” and you’re whimpering, “tell me baby, I know you’re not nearly fucked dumb yet, you’re too smart for that,” he coos, a grin on his lips as he stares with that damn crystalline gaze.

And finally he’s sinking into you again, cock sliding back into your soaked cunt, “God, I love you,” he murmurs, as he’s somehow deeper inside you, pussy pressed against all of him, “so fucking perfect, baby, better than I imagined,” he’s pussydrunk now as he rails into you, and you’re grasping at him, the only sound in your ears is the squelch of him as he filled you again and again as his chest presses against yours, fucking you long and hard, “you’re all mine now, baby. My wife, my body, my love, my soul — all of it,” he growls his last words, grunting as his hips begin to stutter as he kisses your sweet spot again and again, “you want me to cum in this sweet princess pussy, baby? Wanna make me a daddy?”

Your cunt twitches at that, and he laughs, “did you just get wetter, baby? Didn’t think you could do that,”

But you’re only moaning, you’re so fuckin’ close but you want him to cum with you - wanna feel him sink into as he does. And so you’re meeting his lips in a searing kiss, his hips thrusting harder and longer, “give me your baby, Toru, breed me,” you whisper, words slurring as you pant and stutter, all sense had left your mind - and all you wanted was him.

“Fuck, Princess,” he’s grunting as he pistons in and out of you, bed groaning under his thrusts, until your walls clamp down again and again on him as you cum, throbbing and needy as you moan his name, back arching, “g’nna cum,”

And he does, his cock hitting the deepest part of you as he does, his warm seed filling you up, as his hips continue to fuck it deeper into you, making you whimper, as he just keeps on cumming ropes, “oh, f-fuck, Princess,” he rasps as he kisses you, sloppy and wet, as he pants, watching your face come down him your high, eyelashes fluttering as you look up at him, “so beautiful,” he murmurs, as he rubs his thumb down your lips.

He pulls out slowly, groaning as he watches your mixed releases leak out of you, dragging the tip of his weeping erection down your cunt, a whine leaving your throat again, “So fucking filthy, baby,” he hums, a shiteating grin on his lips, as he collects his cum on his fingers, and pushes it back inside of you, as you jump, a small pout on your lips making him laugh, “gotta make good on my promise, baby,” and he’s kissing you silly again, “gotta get you pregnant and full for me,”

His body is sticky with sweat, as he eases your aching legs down, as he kisses up your body, nosing your neck, “So perfect for me, Princess, I love you,” he says so earnestly that it makes you melt, as you pull him into a kiss, “suppose we consummated our marriage now, does this mean we get to have a honeymoon now?” he’s grinning, as you roll your eyes, “come on, don’t you want to travel?”

And you laugh, “I don’t think we would even leave the hotel room if you had your way,” and he’s pressing his thumb against your bottom lip and dragging down, before kissing you, sliding his tongue into your mouth to taste you.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” And your breath catches a moment, before you sigh, and he grins again, “so?”

You roll over to grab your phone, kissing his lips, pulling up possible destinations, “where are we going?”

“Satoru, we’re at the office, uhmph—“ Satoru’s kissing you even before the elevator doors shut, and you can’t help but not care if anyone saw either of you making out, his talented tongue stealing your logic from under you, before he’s pulling away, your lipstick nearly smeared all over his face. You bite back a laugh, before using your thumb to wipe away the evidence of your kiss, “we’ve been here less than a minute, and you’re already making a mess,”

And his lips catch your thumb between them, kissing it sweetly, “What do I do better than make a mess of you, princess?” and he’s pressing sweet kisses to your fingertips, before you’re pulling him back for another kiss, right before you hear the elevator ding, and you scramble apart.

Your cheeks flushed, as you stepped onto the floor of the newly merged company that was formerly your families’ individual companies, now united as one — just as you and Satoru were now — which was why he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of you. The two of you had come into the office to finalize the transition for your staff, each of you dealing with formalities on either side, but Satoru did little to help your focus on the process with his blatant stares and sneaky touches.

Twice already he had pulled you into his office, only to have you either pressed against his door, or bent over his desk. And god, you sat in your office, biting your lip as you thought about paying him another visit — and fuck, this is what he wanted.

You pull your phone out and text him: You suck.

And his reply is instant. If I recall from last night, you’re the one who sucks ;)

You’ve left me high and dry, Satoru, and I shouldn’t be thinking about fucking you in the office. Especially with both of our parents around in meetings all day.

He replies, Nah, that’s exactly why you should be thinking about it.

And then another text.

Imagine our parents walking in while you’re under my desk doing what you do best, you’d be quiet for me, Princess? Wouldn’t let us get caught when I fuck your pretty mouth?

You’re biting your lip — Fucker, I hate you.

Nah, you love me, a little too much, Princess. Another text — especially the way you were moaning my name last night.

And there’s a knock at your door in that moment — “Come in,” you intone, and you were ninety-nine percent sure that was Satoru — ready to make good on his promise — and then white hair visible as the door swings open, “Father,”

It was a Gojo, but not the one you expected — your father in law, instead of his son.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, lips curling in a smile that was all too the same as his son — but missing the same charm, the distinct softness that made you adore Satoru was not present in his father — nor was his father very present at all — except to chastise his son on how he thought his son should live his life.

And he was interrupting — interrupting you about to sext his son and your husband from the confines of your office, but you only offered a smile, “Not at all, can I help you with something, Father?”

He’s shutting the door behind him, before taking a seat across from you, “I just wanted to have a chat with you — it’s been so long since we’ve been able to see the two of you — we still haven’t had you over since you’ve returned from your honeymoon,”

“It’s been very busy,” and it had been, but not too busy to see Satoru’s family. Since the launch party, you and Satoru had agreed to steer clear of his father for some time, until Satoru could develop some more healthy boundaries with him. And so you could get through a conversation without strangling him (although Satoru wasn’t opposed to seeing that), “with the merger and Satoru and I trying to spend time to get know each other again,”

“Of course,” but his smile told you he was unconvinced, “I wanted to talk to you about something important, I’ve seen how close you and Satoru have gotten since the engagement and the wedding, and I was happy to see you pushing him in the right direction,”

“”Pushing him?’” you repeat, raising an eyebrow.

“With the merger, I haven’t seen him so focused, so determined, and I knew my suggestion to my wife to have you marry him was the right choice,” and you stare at him, mouth agape, as anger slowly melts from your stomach into every vein of his body, fingers curling into fists.

“Excuse me?”

He leans back in his chair, “When the idea of the merger was floated by me, I knew I wanted a condition to be your marriage to Satoru,” his eyes glance over the things on your desk — the stacked folders, the paperwork, and the pictures of your family and of Satoru, “you’re driven, you’re focused, you’re perfect — I knew you could change him, and I was right,” his lips curl, and you can’t hold your tongue anymore.

“Maybe what your son needed was someone to support him,” your words are even, but your body is tense, “he needed someone not to scold him, to put him down, to whisper doubts in his ear when he needed help,” you rise from your chair slowly, “I respect you as my father-in-law and as my family’s old friend and co-owner of this company, but,” you glare at him, “no one insults my husband’s capabilities, and makes me takes credit for his achievements,”

The old man’s teeth grit, and he opens to respond, when there’s a curt knock at the door, and Satoru enters, “Old man, how about you go chat with the other old farts in the room? Pretty sure you’re bleeding investors by the second the longer you talk with my wife,” he slides a small smile to you that tells you he heard everything.

Satoru’s father shoots a glare at both of you, before leaving the room in a huff, door shutting behind him, and you sigh, rubbing your temples, “I’m sorry if I made things worse—”

And he’s pulling you into a hug, arms snaking around your waist and pulling you against him, “Thank you, Princess,” he murmurs into your ear, making you tense, “oh you like that, huh?” and you roll your eyes, laughing.

“Even in a moment like this, huh?” you lean up and whisper in his ear, “I don’t just like it, I love it,” and it’s his turn to shiver, his cheeks burning, “you’re so cute,” you grin, before leaning up and kissing him. He melts into the kiss, his fingers cupping your cheek to deepen the kiss, pulling your waist against his, and you feel his arousal pressed against your thigh.

You pull away, tilting your head, you snort, “Already?”

And he bites his lip, “Take some responsibility, baby, it’s your fault,” and he leans down and grazes your ear with his teeth, “not my fault my hot wife defended my honor and then decided to whisper sweet nothings in my ear,”

You hum, guiding his lips to yours, your teeth graze over his bottom lip, “And how should I take responsibility, baby?” and he shudders, crystalline eyes glazed over with lust, “we’re in the office, not very professional,” his fingers unbutton your blouse, so he can lean down and kiss your collarbone.

“I was never very professional to begin with,” he smirks, his teeth grazing over the soft skin, sucking and biting, making you gasp, “don’t be so loud, someone will hear us, what will they think?” he murmurs, with a grin against your skin, as he continues to undo your blouse, as he turns you around so your back is against your chest, he tilts your head to look at your door, “look it’s unlocked, anyone could walk in,” and his fingers sneak down the front of your skirt, fingers teasing your panties, “fuuuck, princess, you’re soaked through — are you more turned on by the idea of getting caught?” and you whimper, only making him grin wickedly against your neck, “my filthy girl, imagine your father walking in, seeing your husband’s fingers down your skirt, legs spread wide like a slut,”

“Satoru,” you’re biting your lip so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised it would bleed, your knees buckling, as his fingers part your dripping folds, “we can’t—”

“We can,” he shushes you, guiding your lips to his, fingers cupping your throat, but he leans back to get confirmation that you were okay, and you lean in again to kiss him, “such a good girl,” You whimper, and he laughs, “gotta break in the new office don’t we?”

And his fingers slip your panties aside, two fingers parting your folds, and you gasp, as he stuffs two fingers into your mouth as well, “Not so loud, Princess, can’t give the office gossip mill something really juicy, now can we?” And his digits start to really fuck you, in and out, the wet squelch ringing in your ears, as his fingers bully and stretch your walls, until they find what they are looking for — your g-spot.

You fall apart, but it’s gushing all over his hand, soaking his hand, as your hand grasps at the fingers in his mouth trying to stifle your noises, “Fuck, Princess, did you just squirt for me?” He’s grinning, “such a sloppy little Princess, look you’re staining the carpet with your cum,” he guides your head to look, seeing the spot on the carpet, as you lean against him, “gotta do this again,”

He kisses you as you moan. Tangled limbs and eager touches, as you guide him over to the desk, as you settle him into the chair, lips still parting as your tongue slips in, “Your turn,” and before he can even react, you’re slipping down to your knees, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, slipping his aching dick out, nearly slapping your face with it, you drag it along your lips, “Like you said, I’m the one who sucks right?” you wink, before you finally lick the length of his cock, tracing the veins to the slit, “you always taste so good, Toru,” and he’s hissing now.

“Fuck, baby, you always so pretty on your knees for me,” and you have to disagree — he’s the one who looks pretty — shirt disheveled, chest rising and falling far too fast, as he looked down at you with his snowy white eyelashes half lidded with a lust ridden gaze — “your pretty mouth is s’fucking perfect, can’t wait to cum down that lovely throat,” he hisses, as his fingers dig into your scalp, urging his cock deeper, his tip brushing against your throat, making you gag.

He opens his mouth to apologize, but you only shake your head, as you do it again, making his hips buck against you, tip hitting your throat again, his composure quickly falling to shreds, as he’s fucking your throat now, biting his lip so hard to keep his groans in, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was bleeding afterwards.

“I-I’m close,” he’s gritting his teeth, but you only redouble your efforts, “so fuckin’ perfect, made to suck this dick—”

And that’s when there’s a knock on the door, making you both freeze. You panic silently — before Satoru is shepherding you under your desk, while he adjusts himself, scooting your chair in more, so his weeping cock is hidden along with you.

“Come in,” Satoru says, as even toned as someone who was just fucking their wife’s throat can manage, “Dad—what a nice surprise,”

And you cover your mouth — fuck it was your dad — Satoru called his dad, “old man” — what the fuck.

“I should be saying that to you son,” you bite your lip, listening to their conversation, “where’s my daughter? And why are you in her office?” and you covered your mouth, shit — you were hiding under your own desk, while Satoru sat in your chair.

Shit, shit, shit.

“I was just waiting for her to come back with lunch,” he manages, and you can almost see the dependable smile on his lips, “she volunteered to get us lunch and she told me to wait here so we could eat together,”

Your father was seemingly convinced after that, but to both of your dismay, sat down to speak with Satoru about business matters. You crouched, utterly bored as you listened to them talk, his erection beginning to wane, and you got an idea in your pretty little head — you grinned — well, Satoru should be careful what he wishes for, or he might just get you blowing him in front of your father.

You start slow — teasing the head with a brush of your fingers, easily could have been an accident, but it nearly makes him jump, as he gives a warning nudge with his foot gently. But then your hand begins to rub him in earnest, fingers using your spit as lube, as you heard your husband stammer over his words to your father. But it was nothing compared to when you closed your mouth over his cock, and began to deepthroat him again.

“Satoru, are you okay?’ you hear your father ask, as you discreetly suck your husband’s cock under his desk, and you can only imagine the delightful shade of red your Toru is turning.

“Sorry, I’m not feeling like myself,” he mumbles, as he grits his teeth in an attempt not to moan, and you can feel his thighs tense as he forces himself not to fuck your mouth as he wants to right now. He’s so close — as much as you like the idea of getting caught, you think Satoru likes it as much or maybe even more — his cock is twitching in your mouth as you suck and swirl your tongue around it, as your fingers dig into your thighs, “I apologize, I’m getting a call. Could you excuse me?”

And your father is oblivious, and excuses himself from the room, door shutting behind him, and Satoru groans, “Fuck, princess, you almost made me cum in front of your dad in this nasty fucking mouth,” and you suck harder, fingers fondling his balls, as his fingers find your locks again, and his hips jerk into your mouth, his white pubes tickling your nose, “thaaat’s it, fuck, so fuckin’ good, i’m close, sweetheart,” he groans, “you want me to cum—“ and you bury his cock deeper into your mouth as an answer, your hands pumping what you couldn’t fit, until he cums down your throat.

You meet his half lidded gaze, swallowing his cum, as you ease off his cock, a mix of cum and saliva connected your lips, “You taste so good,” you lick your lips, as you push the chair a little back and climb out, as you tug his boxers and pants back up, tucking his cock back in, “my favorite treat,”

He smiles, chest still rising and falling fast, “I love you, princess,” so genuinely as he pulls you into a deep kiss.

You giggle, humming against his lips, “So heartfelt after getting your soul sucked out of your dick,” you glance at the door, “do you think anyone heard us?”

He shrugs, as he pulls you into his lap, “I hope they did,” he grins against your neck, as you roll your eyes.

“You’re terrible,” and his lips curl.

“And you love me,” you kiss those same lips you would each day.

“I do.”

~~~~

“What do you wanna do today?” Satoru asks, your legs thrown over his lap, as you read a book you had picked up the other day out on a date with him, and he eats the kikufuku he had insisted on picking up the same day.

“Hmm, I have some ideas,” you hum, hiding your smile with a book, and you don’t need to see his face to know he’s grinning.

“And what’s that, Princess?” he leans forward, plucking the book from your fingers, as you tut at his sugar covered fingers, “shouldn’t you share your feelings with your husband?” And his lips brush against your neck, nose brushing against the soft skin of your nape, inhaling your scent.

“Well I have a surprise for you,” you weren’t planning on giving it to him now, but you pulled a wrapped box from behind the couch cushions, “should I make you wait?”

He’s reaching for the box already, as you laugh, and he’s snatching it from your fingers before you can tease him, “can I open it?” He was so eager, as always.

“Go ahead, baby,” you bite your lip, a small smile on your lips.

He lifts the lid of the wrapped box off, and the first thing his eyes flit across is the word “positive.”

His mouth parts, as he stares at the pregnancy test carefully nestled into the box, “is this—“ his cerulean eyes meet yours, a soft gaze with wonder, “are we—“

“We’re having a baby, Toru,” you nod, and he’s sweeping you into his arms, as you squeak, his body sweeping you up in his, as he buries his face in your neck, “Toru—“

“Is this real?” He murmurs, into your skin, all soft words and soft kisses, “I feel like I’m dreaming,”

“Well I am your dream girl, so maybe don’t be surprised when I pinch you and you wake up,” you pinch his cheek lightly, making his pale skin cutely flushed, pink dusting his cheeks, “no dream here, all real — so I guess you’re just lucky,”

“The luckiest,” he hums, a quiet noise that soothes you, “a beautiful wife, and now,” his fingers graze over your stomach, before lifting the hem of your shirt, to press his lips to it, “and now we’re going to be a family,”

Your lips curl, tilting his chin up so his watery gaze meets your own, thumb rubbing the length of his cheek, “We already were a family,

He raises his eyebrows in mock surprise, “I thought we were mortal enemies,” and you laugh, before shrugging.

“That too,” and he pulls you into his lap, smiling, “but you’re actually pretty cute,”

He gasps mockingly, “Princess, do you have a crush on me? A mere commoner?”

You roll your eyes, pressing a languid kiss to his lips, tasting the lingering sweetness of the kikufuku, “I hate you,” you say, when he knows you mean quite the opposite.

And he only smiles the same way he always did — and the same way he always would — “love you too, Princess."

✩ a/n: so this was also inspired by a character AI made by @/fairybaby that has been living in my mind rent free for far too long. thank you to @/laneymusings for being the best emotional support from writing to formatting to everything in between

✩ tag list: @ryliobrow, @getosho3cakes, @delaneyyyy, @soukokufan, @purplscnerie, @solarlunarsstuff, @growingupnrealizing, @forest-fruits-jam, @achipstea1ingseagull, @fruitscall, @starplasma-cujoh, @crashing-a-jeep, @mwah-chia, @vorschlaghannah, @xrysakts, @emonaculate

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sab [mlist]#gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk au

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simpjaes · 2 months

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ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS PT.1 (P.SH)

Moving to a city with wild nights and charming days felt like the perfect choice in your head upon finishing college. Hours away from home, you accept a job at a local museum ironically placed dead between a large historic cathedral and a booming gothic nightclub. You were meant to curate the art, not be curated yourself by a local priest who found you with buckled knees outside of said goth club. ― part two here!! | MINORS DNI

PAIRING ― vampire park sunghoon x afab reader

WORDCOUNT ― 20.4k

CONTENT ― modern vampire sunghoon, cathedral/chapel settings, blasphemous behavior, false holy facades, the main vampire trope i use is the act of drinking blood, luring, and living forever, heavy manipulation and toxic behaviors, mentions of reader being alt/goth

SIDE CHARACTERS― jungwon as your very very best friend who has an installation at the museum (you guys are attached at the hip), jay as the hot bisexual bartender at the goth club, some goth guy named balor

!WARNINGS! ― dubious consent (due to the act of mind manipulation), hunting and playing victim, a lot of blood: blood sucking, wounds/puncturing, menstruation in a sexual light, manipulation, near-death experiences, fainting, talk of death, acts of mind control/luring

NOTE ― here is part one of the first vampire fic i've ever felt compelled to write in my life. shout out to me, myself, and i for being entirely deranged and coming up with on a whim based on a song a lovely anon sent to me. this is semi-proof read, and does require two parts to get the full story.

tags under cut

smut tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic] ― big meat sunghoon, biting, A LOT OF BLOOD, sucking and drinking of blood obv, pussy eating (once while reader is menstruating, and another time where she isn’t), deep penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex bc like…he’s dead so lmfao, missionary, scratching, dirty talk, body worship, praise, jungwon is involved in a bit of an erotic situation but there is not smut involving him,

other tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic]― depictions of death, anti-religious language, the act of dying including intense descriptions of the feeling, mentions of pimping and human trafficking, corrupt government, dead nuns, funerals

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Upon moving to this city, all you have in your mind is the future. Of what could possibly come of you here? The museum is truly beautiful, propped in the center of the historic district, a mere ten or so blocks from your newly renovated apartment.

Years worth of study has led you here and honestly you’re sure you never would have found this city as lovable as it is if it weren’t for those credit hours you poured into art history and architecture. Truly, you feel at home here. Especially working within the historic district at that beautiful museum.

The rest of the city is quite modern. A bit boring to look at if you’re being honest but, thankfully, your place of work offers much for the eye to devour. The museum itself is quite victorian, with rococo styling throughout. Many could call this an eye sore, but you find yourself loving every inch of the place. You feel like a willow wisp in the clutches of that museum, and honestly you’re more than excited to grow bored of seeing such beauty on a day to day basis.

Across the street sits another old building, also victorian in style. The large and tacky sign glowing with neon lights that reads “AFTER LIFE” goes to show that it’s very clearly a club. And the attire of those who go to and fro through the doors only further proves that it’s more than just that. It’s a goth club.

Which, arguably, high-school you would’ve died to be able to attend. Thankfully, that little goth girl inside of you still lives strong and surely the club will be a place you’ll frequent during your free time. It’s not too hard to dress the part considering you are an art loser. The majority of your clothing consists of black, colored hair, and wild make up anyway. All you gotta do is forego the ratty coveralls or the typical business quirky you go for at work and you’re good to go.

Last but not least regarding the charm of the historic district, your favorite site. One that is so profound to you and likely everyone else who visits this town mostly because, well, there isn’t much mention of it on any website regarding the city. In fact, you weren’t aware that such a place existed here until the day you came to view your apartment for the first time.

Seeing it loom from the apartment window very nearly had you sign the lease without so much as looking at the cabinet space or the bathroom setup.

No, nothing in that historic district, absolutely nothing in this city, rivals that of the cathedral that towers above both the club and museum.

There, parked just three blocks down from your place of work, sits the cathedral. Clearly old but well maintained, you can just tell that the building has seen more than enough through the passing decades. The arches are pointed and towering, and the flying buttresses only further your heart to beat with love and admiration for what men could build at one point in time.

You’ll never understand why the preferred style these days consists of primary shapes, anyway. Boxes, cones, spheres. Never twisting hallways or nooks and crannies to hide in. You miss the depth of which buildings used to be. Inside practically a maze, outside a wondrous presentation of knife-sharp features. So intricate, so many lines to trace.

What a shame to find yourself living in a space that’s a mish-mash of perfect boxes, but it’s not so bad when the window offers a daydream, at least.

You’re in love each time you gaze upon the building, actually. It’s a forever reminder that no human being on this earth could make you feel such excitement. Perhaps you’re just a nerd for gothic architecture though. Honestly, it’s a shame that this cathedral seems to be a forgotten gem despite how it’s blatantly visible at almost any view point in the city.

Fortunately for you, this only goes to show that the historic district is just that. There for those who admire, and not for those who gawk. There seems to be rarely any stray humans making their way down this street without at least an inkling of interest in the ancient life that’s been breathed here.

If anything, the streets are filled with what you can assume to be open-minded individuals. Your first day at work showed that much. Tattooed bodies, pierced faces, wild hair, even wilder attire. Yes, you feel right at home.

And despite the excitement of living in a new city where you seem to fit like a puzzle piece, life can still grow boring after a certain amount of time has passed. For you, it’s taken about three weeks of training, well-slept nights, and cozy days.

Even through the summer, the nights still have a chill in the air. Which is nice but even your night-time walks have become an auto-pilot task that offers nothing new to your forever hungry brain. So, with the weekend fast approaching, you figure there’s no better time than now to dust off those hot platform boots you bought on a whim years ago and have yet to wear.

You’re going to the booming “after life”.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well.

“After life” is certainly a perfect name for the club if the intensity of the drinks alone is anything to go by. Inside is adorned with stark black walls and silver trim, loads upon loads of purple and red curtains, women and men near-nude wrapped in straps and chains.

It only took two drinks to see the black painted walls as a beautiful void in space with wonderful dancing bodies falling into it. You can’t stop smiling through the warmth in your cheeks and dancing to deep bass with husky voiced music. Your arms stay in the air as you dance, and you welcome any dancing partner up until your third drink.

God, the drinks are strong. Or perhaps it’s just the specific drink you’ve grown partial to. One they call “Red Death”, which according to the handsome bartender, was quite popular in the 90s. You see exactly why it was so popular, considering it basically hit you like a fucking truck in the middle of this club and has you stumbling out the front door without so much as remembering why your feet are moving in the first place.

Unsure of how much time has passed since you got here, you nearly forget the extra five inches under your feet as you stumble your way through the heavy doors in front of the club. A kind bouncer with the whites of his eyes tattooed helps you with your balance as you step out, chuckling and noting that you’re definitely new here.

His strong hold on you is kind and gentle compared to the bouncers outside of the clubs back home, and despite how drunk you are, you still feel as safe as you do inside of your own apartment when he gives you a small “woah there.”

Thankfully, he keeps to himself after helping you regain balance, once again unlike most bouncers at clubs. You’re left to your own drunken plans now as you wobble around the building in search of a bench to sit on and sober up. Thankfully, that very bench is found sitting lonely on the backside of the building. You can still hear the muffled music from inside, but you’re currently spinning and able to hear just about anything, you think.

You hear your ass thump to the ground when you try to take a seat, missing the bench completely and falling a full two feet with your head hitting the bricked wall behind you.

Honestly, all you can do is laugh at yourself as you hold your head. The fall didn’t hurt, and thank fuck no one is around to have witnessed that from you. To think your senses are enhanced at this moment is quite a feat, considering you were so focused on hearing everything that you completely forgot to determine which of the two benches in your drunken vision was the real one.

And as you accept your seat on the ground as the space you’ll sober up in, your senses prove yet again to at least be slightly more amplified than usual.

A heavy scent of cinnamon wafts through your nose as you breathe in the brisk summer air and immediately you try to adjust your eyes to whatever the scent is coming from. Or, whoever.

Then, a cold hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even see him before smelling or feeling him, but somehow, your vision adjusts immediately as if you’re not drunk at all.

In fact, looking at the man is entirely sobering.

“Child, temptation has you by the throat.”

“I’m no child.” You scoff at the voice reaching your ears, frustrated as you try to chase the fizzling drunk feeling. A waste of money, you could say, to lose the dizzy feeling so fucking fast.

The man stands in front of you, clad in black, offering a gentle smile.

You can imagine you look a mess, sitting on the ground outside of a night club, but that should be expected you’d think.

“It’s a figure of speech.” The man shrugs with a chuckle. “Now, now. Allow me to help you, my dear, you are in no shape to be left to your own devices.”

You look up at him, noting that the man appears to be a priest. What kind of priest wanders around goth clubs this time of the night?

Then again, you don’t even know what time it is. What you do know is that you’re nearly entirely sober now for some fucking reason, and you absolutely can be left to your own devices.

“No, I’m fine. I don’t live too far.” You shake your head at him, but he pulls you up anyway.

Oh, a rush of woozy nausea. Your ankles buckle immediately upon trying to stand and the man simply keeps his smile aimed at you.

“My conscience will not allow me to leave you be.” He says, taking your arm and leading you further down the street.

You’re unsure as to why you don’t fight him on it now. There’s a feeling in your body that tells you to go with him, and who are you to fight it?

Strangely enough, your eyes sparkle as he leads you straight to that very cathedral that floods your thoughts on most weekdays during work. So big, so beautiful, so otherworldly to see so closely.

You stare up at the towering building even as he helps you through the doors, and then your eyes immediately adjust to the vaulted ceilings and darkened stained glass windows with only the moonlight shining through.

God, it’s more beautiful inside.

You’re entirely mesmerized by the building, blinking up at every inch of the walls and ceiling. It’s pristine inside compared to the outside, and the floors shine so beautifully even in the low-light. Your boots stomp with each step against the well-maintained floors, to the point you can feel the vibrations running from your toes to the top of your head.

You can feel your skin tighten at the viewing experience, every hair on your body raising in euphoria, pupils growing wide and dark. You smile, feeling your face flush as if you’ve got a man between your legs. There is no man though though, no. Just big arches and echoed footsteps.

It’s simply too beautiful to comprehend with a semi-drunken brain for the first time.

The man saunters through the building with you in tow a bit too quickly than you’d prefer though. You try to soak in the image of the main chapel before he leads you away from it, and thankfully you caught a decent look at the gold and silver adornments surrounding a centered altar. The figure within the altar didn’t quite get more than a glance, but you could have sworn it was no religious figure that you know the name of.

And then, within three blinks, you’re in a corridor where whispering nuns look on. Their voices sound high-pitched even in a whisper but it slows your heart rate down to that of near sleep. Drowsiness overtakes you as you blink out of sync, barely able to comprehend that you should be at home rather than in this wondrous and magnificent building with a strange priest.

Still, even as the corridor grows less and less extravagant, where the stomping of your boots on the floor turns to that of breaking up dust and weighing down creaking wood, you find it all the more beautiful behind your heavy-lidded eyes.

The deeper into the cathedral you go, the older it becomes. Where electricity turns to candles, and then candles turn to pure moonlight shining through stained glass windows.

Even up the spiraling concrete stairs, you feel your feet carry you more than the priest with his back turned to you. He wouldn’t need to lead you through this building at all, as the feeling in your gut would likely have you explore the place inch by inch if you were given the permission.

Still, even while your mind is sober but your body is drunk, you find it hard to believe that people still reside here. Never once seeing anyone come from the cathedral since being in this city. And trust, you have honestly stared at it day after day during work.

That means nothing to you now though, considering you’re inside the building, being led to a small room for sleep where your sleepy eyes devour the small bed against the wall.

The man who led you here lends no more words or thoughts to you as he steps inside, presents the room to you, and then quickly leaves with that same smile he gave you outside of the club.

A nun replaces him with light and silent footsteps, running past you to fluff the flattened pillow on the bed. Another came in behind her with a small bowl of crackers and a glass of water. She holds out the bowl and glass, urging you to take them from her.

Naturally, you do. Popping a cracker into your mouth and instantly feeling it soak up any saliva in your mouth, leaving it feeling dry and sore before you sip the water. And with a nod from the two nuns, they leave you be.

This room appears to be that for refuge, surely for those the church takes in when they’re in need of a warm bed and some food.

You smile, saying nothing as you sit down on the bed and place the glass and bowl on the small ledge by the window. There, you take off your boots and flop back without so much as sinking under the thin covers, and you fall asleep as if there’s nowhere else on this earth you’d rather be.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The sun feels warm against your face when you stir from your slumber. Your eyes feel heavy though, so you simply lay here and breathe in the strange heavy air. Your eyebrows furrow at the feeling of the bed beneath you. Stiff, hard, uncomfortable. Clearly, you’re not at home.

And, well, that’s when the happenings of last night dawn on you. You can barely comprehend what the helpful priest looked like, better yet how long it took for your feet to carry you to this room.

When you open your eyes and squint to look out of the stained window, most of the city is distorted through the tinted colors, but you can tell that you’re quite high up in the building. Then again, the throbbing in your feet could have probably told you that.

Still, sitting in this bed now feels much more uncomfortable than it did when you initially laid down. Your head pounds as you pinch the bridge of your nose, squinting around the room and trying to grasp your memory.

The only thing you remember is the cold hand that guided you here and every beautiful inch of the cathedral. Which can only mean, you have no fucking idea how to get out of here.

Oh, the horror and embarrassment of needing to search for someone to help you leave feels unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Surely, if you’re silent with your feet, you can search the halls until you manage to find a back door, right? At least the route would be scenic and interesting if you can manage it.

And, well, you do try. Searching for a staircase the moment you leave your room simply because you know that the only way home is down at least a hundred steps. Strangely enough, your instincts seem to know exactly where to go.

Somehow.

Your socked feet carry you straight downstairs and to the main cathedral. You weren’t necessarily expecting to find a room full of people upon entering the space either. After all, if it were Sunday perhaps you’d have to drag your hungover ass past a crowd participating in Sunday mass.

Despite never seeing a soul enter this cathedral save for yourself and that priest.

Weird, there are a few people with bowed heads sitting in the pews of the main chapel. All appear to be clad in black and gold, one or two others with silver. Not entirely cloaked but still incredibly eerie from behind as you look on with each silent foot step.

And suddenly, your body freezes.

There, at the center of the altar stands a stoic man. Posture so straight you could argue he is nothing but an ancient statue. Behind him, you note that there is an actual statue of a figure standing much the same, far too distant to make out the face of.

Only for a moment do you recall glancing at the statue from the night before, noting how it resembled no god nor deity that you’re aware of. It doesn’t even resemble a human the longer you stare at it, actually.

Ah. Yes. The vibes in this cathedral are off. From your feet somehow knowing the place as if it’s your own home to the silent chapel bowing their heads to an even more silent man standing frozen in the center. If at all, you feel like you’ve been caught in a photo, stuck with your feet on this single tile with the front doors just out of your reach.

That is, until one of those whispering nuns makes her way to you, tapping your shoulder with a nod and a very quiet, “Shall I see you out?”

And she does, opening the large doors for you and closing them behind you without so much as a sound.

Strange, because you remember the echo of those doors closing from the night before. But whatever, you guess, as you’re assaulted with the bright afternoon sun forcing your eyes to tear up.

You take a step through the flash-bang of summer air, slowly adjusting your eyesight to the very museum you work at. Bustling with your co-workers who are made to work this weekend, you try to avoid being seen. After all, as a new employee, the last thing you need is to be perceived as a hungover mess while walking out of that weird fucking cathedral with nothing more than socked feet and a pair of stompers held against your chest.

And so, you make the short trek home, thankful for the walkable city but entirely unthankful for the charming weather your realtor promised for this time of the year. It’s fresher than you’d like for it to be outside today, the warm sun keeping you at a perfect temperature while the cold breeze offers a shiver here and there.

You’re not sure why it pisses you off. It’s probably the headache that only pounds harder and harder with each step you take.

Finally, you make it to your apartment. You feel cold when you step inside the lobby and make your way up. Somehow you feel even colder when find yourself at the window, gazing at the same cathedral you just spent the night in, looking hazy in the afternoon sun.

It looms there in the city, with its elder rooted walls and pointed arches. Still so beautiful, still so mysterious, still so fucking luring.

Even after sleeping there, and even after you felt the vibrations inside skew your comfort, it stands out not only in the city, but in your brain. With the modern city only forcing it to stick out like a sore thumb, you can argue that the city could be just as old and still that cathedral would offer a shiver down your spine.

Your head pulses at the sunlight shining through your window, forcing your eyes from the darkened haunt, and you’re quick to make your way to the kitchen to rummage for something to help with the headache.

And by the time you flop down on your couch, you drift back to sleep, realizing that you’re not entirely sure if you slept at all the night before. Despite waking up, despite not remembering a thing from after you laid down, and despite feeling rejuvenated in every aspect aside from sleep.

That rejuvenation strangely drains you more as you drift to sleep, finding it so unnatural that you willingly slept in a maze filled with no face you can put a name to.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Making your first friend feels good. Weeks worth of pretending and hoping you and your co-workers would somehow become besties outside of the museum walls fell short, after all. Not that you don’t consider them friends, it’s more so just the fact that they’re all a bit too stoic and up-tight for you.

You’re quite a bit younger as well. You can tell that they lost their spark for creating art years ago, if they ever even created it in the first place, anyway. It’s all just curating, curating, curating for them. An eye for beauty only, which is respected and appreciated but still, no eye for fun outside of these walls though.

That’s where Jungwon comes in. A young artist with first-installation jitters dimpling his cheeks as he offers the smallest “hello” that you think you’ve ever heard from another person.

He’s similar to you in the way he dresses. He works hard, amazing you with each piece of his collection that’s pulled from a tightly packed box, filled with bubble wrap and slammed with “FRAGILE” stickers.

Arguably, you don’t need to be friends with your co-workers when you have artists like him coming in and out every few months. He’s quite lively, very excited, and almost clumsy in the way he carries himself.

You were endeared with him the moment you met him and honestly just three days in, the two of you are practically attached at the hip as you push and work hard alongside him to set up the installation as perfectly as possible for the following weekend.

And, well, the first showing went off without a hitch. His smiling face could have been seen for miles, you think, as you watch him mingle and blush at each compliment and critique of his work.

So bright.

So full of life.

The exact person you’d want to be around.

“Jungwon–” You elbow him in the side as he nods and shakes hands through each farewell while the museum comes to its close for the night. “It’s Friday.” You smile.

He nods you off, paying close attention to each face that came to visit his work. And only when the halls are empty does he make his way back to you with a deep exhale and a loud, relieved groan.

“Finally.” He huffs, blowing a strand of his hair up and into the air. “Just fifty nine more days to go.”

You roll your eyes fondly at him already counting down until the two of you are scheduled to take down his work.

“You do know you only need to be here for opening night, right?” You laugh.

“Well, yeah.” He shrugs. “But it’s my first installation, I worry some kid will come wipe his snotty nose all over my hard work.”

You chuckle, he chuckles, and then you turn to face him.

“So, it’s Friday.”

He bounces on his feet.

“Yeah, glad to see you seem to grasp the idea of fleeting time and whatnot.” He looks at you with a mischievous smile. “What about it?”

“We should go out. The club across the street has really strong drinks for half the price as most places.”

You watch as Jungwon’s eyes shine when they flick behind you to glance out the window. Then his face falls, his eyebrow raises, and he tilts his head.

“You do realize we’ve been here for like, eighteen hours straight, right?”

You nod casually with a shrug.

“I live super close by, if we get tired, you can just crash on my couch.”

He pretends like he thinks it over for more than two seconds before ultimately accepting the offer of fun.

“Cool. Wanna meet me there in an hour? I should probably change and stuff first.”

You eye over his outfit, and then give yourself a quick glance.

“Good plan.” You smile, backing away and throwing your bag over your shoulder. “An hour. Be there.”

You both nod in agreement and go your separate ways. Sleepy, but entirely willing to celebrate Jungwon’s huge accomplishment with drinks that have already proven to be too strong.

The hour passes quickly, wearing that same pair of boots for a second time now that you have the perfect place and reason to stomp around in them. This time, you even go as far as darkening your lips and smearing your mascara just a smidge. After all, you’re definitely gonna get drunk and your makeup will be smeared by the end of the night regardless.

You gasp upon seeing Jungwon’s chosen attire, offering him an “Ooooh” the second you walk up to him. He had been leaning against the front doors of the museum, as if he’s simply an on looker and not a working artist with a top-notch showcase within those walls.

He lends you a matching “Ahhhh” upon seeing your chosen outfit. Both of you somehow match in a way that makes this appear more like a date night rather than friends getting drinks. Which is kind of cute and a welcomed idea if the two of you have one to many and accidentally start making out or something.

It feels platonic enough to laugh off in the morning, anyway. And really, while his boots don’t lend him extra height, he stomps around in them much like you do your own. With his black knit sweater littered in frays and pulled yarn, and his hair intentionally messed up.

“Wonnie,” You offer the nickname easily as you grab onto his arm and check the street for cars before beginning to cross. “I think some eyeliner could finish off your look.” You laugh as the two of you practically prance with heavy boots to the club.

He smiles at the nickname, hiding his face only slightly in his sweater when he blinks back at you with sparkly eyes.

“Really?” He smiles, dimples on full display for the tattooed bodies lined up outside, already checking out the artist.

“Yeah, oh–” You huff, digging in your small shoulder bag. “I have some, let’s do the finishing touch.”

And when the two of you stand at the back of the line, you do just that. Carefully holding his cheek in one hand and lining the lower lashes on his left eye.

He doesn’t even close his eyes, and instead looks up into the night sky with that same dimple showing. Blinking every few seconds at the sensitivity, ignoring the fact that his eyes start to prickle at the feeling.

“It tickles,” He chuckles in a hushed whisper, never having a friend be so close to his face like this before. “How do you manage to do this every day?”

“I guess you just get used to it after a while.” You focus on the way the darkened color brings his eye to seem more catty than it already was, taking your thumb and swiping the bottom lid to smear the charcoal makeup.

You note how innocent and shining his other eye looks compared. Nevertheless, you go to rest your hand on his other cheek now.

Just for a moment, his eyes flash down to look at you. So, so close to his face. Instantly, you lend him a pause and your own smile.

“You’re blushing.” You laugh, holding your hand steady in wait as he shifts his weight to the other leg out of natural nervousness.

“Sorry,” He whispers out, blinking frantically to prepare for his other eye to tickle. “I’m not used to being this close to someone.”

Ah, you don’t believe that for a second.

“Look up.” You instruct, already lining his other lashes. “Feels like I’m putting the finishing touches to a masterpiece.” You add in a lame chuckle, feeling a little flustered yourself the more you note how his eyes water at the tickle. They shine so pretty.

He laughs out at your comment, a hand shooting to your wrist as you smear the liner on him. Not to be intimate or anything, just simply to steady your hand more.

“I guess I am kinda the canvas like this, huh?” He comments, standing as still as he can while looking up at the moon. “Hey–”

“Hm?” You say, pulling your hand back now and doing the same with your thumb to smear the make up into perfection on his flawless little face.

“What kind of gum is that?” He asks, blinking a few times before adjusting his eyes properly and pretending like he can’t feel the waxy substance caked on his lashes.

“Just regular spearmint.” You give him a half smile. “Why, you want a piece?”

He nods, mostly because if he had known you were going to get this close to his face, he probably would have already had some type of candy in his mouth.

Again, it’s not like he has feelings or anything. It’s just, well, it’s always intimate to have someone so close to you. In your space. Your bubble. No one ever gets that close unless they want to kiss. Or, he guesses, if they’re putting eyeliner on you.

“You look really cute,” You comment now, stepping back after giving him a piece of gum and looking over how the smeared makeup really does complete his look. “Should’ve brought one of my chokers too. Now that, yeah.”

“Huh?” He tilts his head as the two of you move up the line. “You’re really into this kind of scene aren’t you?”

You nod shyly.

“Was a total mall goth back when I was a teenager. I would’ve stalked you around the mall if you looked like this back then, really. Totally my type.”

He lends a bashful blink and a half-hearted laugh, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking to the ground.

“Well, when I was a teenager I looked like the person who invented calculus.”

“And now you’re just a little work of art, huh?” You continue the cringey art-jokes, mostly because you like the way he tries to pretend they’re funny rather than utterly horrifying.

And he does smile at it, ears flowing with heat as he blushes. He probably wouldn’t feel so shy if it weren’t for the fact that he also heard compliments all day about his art. He’s a bit sensitive right now.

“I guess so.” He accepts your compliment like all the others, lifting his shoulder to his cheek with a squinted eye. It’s nice to feel like the world’s favorite person for a night, truly.

And the conversation is even easier from here on out. Albeit, a bit flirty but it stills platonic enough to where the two of you are just…in a comfortable little bubble surrounded by faces you don’t know. Perhaps playing the part of being two individuals who came to a club together rather than separately and alone.

As the hours pass, there are several strangers approaching the two of you. Words of “need a third?” and “well aren’t you two just fucking perfect?”

Jungwon basks in it, snickering quietly with you but never denying a single accusation. The two of you play along. Drinking, dancing, and then more drinking. Up until Jungwon decides he’s held his bladder long enough and is off in search of a bathroom while you make your way to the bar.

For more drinks, of course. Not to hit on the bartender you met the first time you came here.

“Another red death?” The man with inky red hair smiles at you, already grabbing a glass and starting your drink.

“Yes but, can I actually–” You pause, glancing at the other man behind the bar.

Red haired man laughs knowingly with a nod and a side eye before pointing silently at his co-worker and raising a brow at you.

You nod back, dipping your face only slightly when you see him take two steps back and whisper to the man.

Instantly, you feel a bit more shy over asking to be served by this guy but goddamn. His dark hair looks slightly damp when his eyes glance to you upon whatever is being whispered in his ear, probably from something spewing in his face after being shaken up, or perhaps from sweat.

You try to avoid eye contact under the man’s gaze when he walks over and in front of you. Sharp jaw, silver chain, loose black t-shirt revealing equally as damp collar bones.

God. The shirt is sticking to him.

“Babe, my eyes are up here.” He laughs, holding an empty cup and leaning on the bar towards you. “Had a little too much to drink again?”

You nod, dazed by his dark eyes before immediately shaking your head.

“Red death, please. Two of them.”

The man nods with a knowing smile.

“I saw that you came here with someone.”

He’s flirting. Mostly for tips but it’s not like he hasn’t been known to take people home from work before so, wherever it goes is where it goes for him.

“Jay, can you grab me the-” The red haired bartender says from behind, and Jay, presumably, hands him a bottle without so much as letting him finish the sentence.

“He’s cute.” Jay continues talking to you, enjoying the way you don’t realize how you fold in on yourself. “Any reason as to why you asked me to make your drink?”

“Um, oh,” You were gonna be bold, but you feel Jungwon suddenly clinging to you from behind, eyeing the bartender just like you are. “I just think you make them better.”

“Did he just say I’m cute?” Jungwon whispers behind your ear, watching the man’s hands as he makes the drinks with expert knowledge.

“You’re both cute.” The bartender smirks, looking between both of you and then offering a wink. “This round is on me.” He adds, sliding both cups forward and brushing your hand just for a moment before turning his attention to someone else.

Honestly, it’s like you and Jungwon are the same person at this moment when you grab your drinks and you turn to face each other.

Both of you, bouncing on your feet with whispered squeals over the hot bartender including both of you in the compliment.

“Oh my god.” You stare forward, tasting the drink and noting that there somehow seems to be more alcohol in this one. “He’s so–”

Jungwon nods to you excitedly, sipping his drink quickly before glancing behind you and meeting the eye of the bartender again.

“He was just looking at your ass.” He comments, flipping his body to cling to your arm and now turning his back to Jay “You think he’s gonna check mine out too?”

You nod with a snicker, the song changing and the tempo instantly drowning your thoughts.

“I love this song!” You shout with drunken glee, already making your way from the bar but keeping that little thought that hopefully, Jay will keep glancing at the two of you simply because it’s fun to be watched by a hottie.

And Jungwon just goes with your flow. Dancing with sticky sweet lips, eyes glazed over from the music and mood. His makeup looks more beautiful now paired with strands of his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen dimples so fucking deep before, and it’s almost painful to remember his face without that smile plastered on it.

“Wonnie,” You grab him by the shoulder and pull him against you, ignoring how his hair dips into your drink for a moment. “I think you’re my best friend.”

And the way he pulls back with a gasp, smiling wider? It shatters your heart just so it can grow larger.

“I am?” He does a little bounce through his dance move, eyes shining in the strobe lights, flashes of red and purple shading his cheeks, only deepening those dimples. “Really?”

Never have you enjoyed spending time with someone like this. Never without crushing hard, never without wanting to take them home and fuck them until you can’t walk. Jungwon is different though. He really does feel like a long lost best friend, like the part of you that has been missing for far too long.

The moment you met him, you clicked in a way that didn’t involve a dick or a hole. I mean, sure you’d probably fuck him for funsies but there’s really no point in it because you feel perfectly happy, perfectly fulfilled, just having him spend his free time with you.

Surely when he has to travel back home, you’re going to cry.

“Why do you have to live so far away?” You pause your dancing, making yourself sad at the thought that he will only be here for a few weeks. “Who am I gonna hang out with when you leave?”

Jungwon lends you a pouty sound, a coo, almost.

“I only live an hour away.” He laughs, leaning forward and plastering his sweaty forehead to yours with a slurred shout so you can hear him clearly. “I’ll come see you all the time!”

And with that, the mood seeps right back into your veins as the smile overtakes you.

You dance with him, forehead to forehead for a long, long, while. Up until the club is so crowded with people that Jay couldn’t possibly be paying attention to anything other than making drinks, and you couldn’t possibly pay attention to anything other than the music vibrating the alcohol in your stomach.

It’s almost suffocating, as you feel a pang in your chest of overheated anxiety. You breathe in, smelling the fifth piece of gum that Jungwon slipped from your pocket on his breath. You exhale, smelling your own sweet alcohol breath before pulling back and dragging Jungwon by the hand into the only corner not packed with people.

“You okay?” Jungwon slurs as he sways in front of you, eyes trying their best to seem concerned. “You look like you might get sick.”

You nod, feeling your mouth fill with warm saliva indicating that you should probably go to the bathroom now.

“Okay, lets get you to-”

You cut Jungwon off with an off balance sprint to the bathroom and somehow he keeps pace with you, gripping your shirt and refusing to lose you in the crowd.

Unfortunately, as you press on your stomach to somehow hold down whatever is trying to come up, you notice how there’s a very long line for the bathroom.

And it’s still suffocating in here.

And your mouth tastes too sweet. And the music is too loud.

“Let’s go outside!” Jungwon shouts against your ear, vibrating your brain as he navigates you through the crowd himself, pressing you up against the front doors of the club before pushing you outside with him close behind.

The waft of breezy summer air instantly fills your lungs and your stomach settles at the space you have to yourself now.

You stumble forward, making your way around the same concerned bouncer from before who only smiles at you and Jungwon struggling to find your footing.

And, like the best friend you knew he became, he tries his best to be the sober friend right now. His voice wavers and crackers when he speaks, but his hands are firm on both of your shoulders as he presses you against the wall behind you.

“Stay here.” Jungwon says with concern still in his voice. “I’m gonna run back in and get us some water, okay?”

And you nod in a daze as your eyes follow him when he disappears back inside. You note how he says something to the bouncer before opening the doors, and surely he simply asked that the guy keep an eye on you.

“You should probably eat something soon, sweetheart.” The kind bouncer comments to you in the night air, stepping closer to you and standing just against the wall next to you.

You feel protected by him, so there are no alarm bells ringing.

“You know I can’t let you back in, right?” He chuckles as he speaks to you calmly.

“Oh, I bet.” You laugh, breathing in the air again and again, still not regretting the fun you’ve had for the past few hours. “Just gonna sit here and wait for Wonnie, he’ll help me get home.”

“Good, good.” The bouncer confirms your words, still standing protective next to you when you hear the doors fly open and a few seconds of booming music before it’s muffled again.

Jungwon flops down in front of you on the sidewalk now, two water bottles in hand with a smile on his face.

“Jay gave me these.” He smiles. “He said if we can handle waiting til closing time he can drive us home.”

You laugh sheepishly. Unfortunately, you’re a bit too drunk and you know you probably wont make it another hour and a half with an additional however much time it’ll take for him to close up the club before needing to pass the fuck out.

“I think I’ll have to take him up on that next time.” You slur your words. “You’ll help me walk home right, Wonnie? It’s a short walk.”

Jungwon nods, still doing his best to act as sober as he can, but the bouncer shuts him down fast.

“Oh, I don’t think so buddy.” The bouncer laughs. “You’re both fucked out of your mind.”

You laugh, Jungwon laughs, and the bouncer throws in his own hearty sigh.

“Fuck–” You have a sudden, sober thought. “The tab. Jungwon, did we pay the tab?”

He pauses, eyes widening.

“Shit.” He explains before jumping up on unsteady feet. “Can you help her call for a ride?” He slurs out at the bouncer, only disappearing inside again when the kind goth nods at the request.

And as you sit here in the silence after the bouncer helps you order a ride, a few minutes pass. Your eyes are out of focus as you stare up into the night sky before closing them.

You could fall asleep right here on the sidewalk if you’re not careful.

Another few minutes pass, now a loud slam of the doors rings in your tired ears now and you jolt out of the drowsy state, opening your eyes thinking you’ll find Jungwon rushing to you but instead, you note how suddenly you’re entirely alone.

You don’t know how long you’ve sat here, or where the bouncer went, better yet why Jungwon isn’t back yet but what you do know is that suddenly, you’re mind is sober and fucking assaulted by the smell of cinnamon.

You glance around, trying to focus on the scent and where it’s coming from when– oh.

There, walking down the sidewalk is that fucking priest from before. Tall, clad yet again in black clothes, and he simply pauses his step in front of you.

“Again?” The man calls out to you with an amused voice, lending you his hand, but you don’t take it.

Instead, the doors suddenly fly open and Jungwon stumbles out again, nearly tripping over his own feet with an apology of “sorry, jay was trying to convince us to–”

“Uh, hi?” Jungwon interrupts himself as he takes note of the man standing in front of you. “The fuck are you?” He checks the man out, not quite able to focus on him in full.

The priest nods his head at both of you, staring Jungwon up and down before landing his eyes back on you.

“Get her home safe.” He says nothing else before continuing his nightly stroll.

And, well, you do get home safe.

You and Jungwon are a mess of limbs in the short ride to your apartment, and an even messier pile of idiots by the time you make it inside. The couch is long forgotten by the time you close your front door, feeling Jungwon follow you all the way to your plush bed with drunken groans and giggles.

There, you flop onto the bed fully clothed without so much as a happy “goodnight” and you’re both drifting off to sleep. Jungwon’s heavy limbs are thrown on you as he loosely spoons you. Like he’s still trying to take care of you despite the fact that you no longer feel sick, and you’re both perfectly safe behind your apartment walls.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Have you no shame?

Fuck no.

What about Jungwon? Nah.

Both of you have a pep in your step by the next Friday, waiting for the museum to close so Jungwon can walk home with you and get all dressed up and ready for another fall into the infamous “after life”.

“We should try to stay until closing, maybe Jay will bring us home this time.” Jungwon wiggles his eyebrows as you put his eyeliner on for him again.

“We’re gonna have to look real good then, yeah?” You smile at his pretty smeared eyes, reaching your hand up and ruffling his hair.

And you do. Both of you dress up in the darkest, blackest, sexiest fit you can find in your closet. Jungwon is sporting one of your pretty, sheer lace undershirts beneath his own unbuttoned black cardigan, pants tight and low on his waist.

You, with another semi-transparent shirt. Sheer, showing all the goods if you hadn’t put on a nice fitting bralette under it. Cute skirt that shows your thighs, the stompers, of course.

And the finishing touch this time? Matching chokers.

“Cute.” You comment, leaning forward and popping a minty kiss to the tip of Jungwon’s nose.

“You too.” He smiles, pinching your waist before turning to face your vanity mirror and checking himself out.

Cute is right. Jay’s probably gonna fall to the floor when he gets a look at the two of you.

And, well. The night is a blur.

Jay does, in fact, eye the two of you with that sharp smirk like he did last weekend but you, unfortunately, drink far too much yet again.

Jungwon slowed down a bit towards midnight but he kept an eye on you for the most part. Trying to secure the ride for both of you by orbiting around the bar and making flirty talk with both bartenders when time allowed it.

You stayed on the dance floor through it. Sometimes dancing with Jungwon when he comes up behind you with clingy hands and updates on the Jay situation, but after a few songs he’d wander off again.

It’s nice, kind of. Having someone with you that can maintain control through your own drunken stupidity. You don’t mind dancing alone, after all, you’re not entirely alone giving the pretty men and girls who come by to dance with you every other song when Jungwon isn’t around.

And of course, around the same time as last time, you find your mind feeling suffocated by the time the club is at capacity.

You sway on the dance floor in search of Jungwon, unsure of which way the bar is because your eyes simply can’t adjust to the darkness and flashing lights by this point.

Dimples. You need to find the sunshine face in this void of darkness.

And you search.

And search.

Until you’re stumbling out the front doors alone, knowing that if Jungwon is looking for you, he’ll probably know you stepped out to breathe at some point.

Just like the week before, the crip summer air outside instantly settles your stomach and breathing comes easier. You feel more sober than you thought you were as you sit here, making small talk with the bouncer who finally introduces himself to you.

“That’s a good name for a big goth teddy bear.” You mock the man. “Balor.”

“In the flesh.” The man waves you off.

And then, suddenly, the bouncer is stepping closer to you with a stiffened shoulder, the air outside shifting to something else for him, but you’re completely unaware of it.

“I need to step inside for a moment, will you be alright for a few minutes?” He knows he shouldn’t step inside, but in all fairness, it’s kind of the protocol at this point.

Considering that man has made himself very clear that if he’s near the club at all, it’s for good reason and he’s not to be interrupted. At least, that’s what code is for the bouncers here at this club.

It’s a shame though, to know he has to leave you to the night. You’re a fun girl, peppy and sweet, not rude or hard to make small talk with on the long nights of work. Maybe you drink a little too much, but still. It’s not like the bouncer knows why he is to leave the sidewalk when a certain someone wanders by. What he does know is that more often than not, he’ll sink away inside only to resume his position alone, with no one left on the sidewalk.

Probably just a pimp.

Or human trafficking.

He isn’t sure, but time and time again he has been told to leave it be. That it’s nothing wretched. That it’s simply a territory that isn’t their own.

Still, you nod to the bouncer.

“If you see Wonnie, can you scold him for letting me get lost?”

You miss the look of concern on the bouncer’s face.

“Hey, come back inside, I’ll help you find him.”

“Oh, hello again.” A voice echoes from around the corner, causing the bouncer’s shoulders to fall as he immediately offers you a small “I'll find him–” before disappearing behind the heavy doors with haste.

And then, cinnamon. The spicy scent wafting through you so fast that you’re almost dizzy.

More dizzy than you already were, anyway.

“Have you learned nothing?” The priest walks up to you, chuckling and raising his eyebrows.

“Weird ass priest.” You say, paying no mind to the happenings of just now, totally unaware of the energy surrounding you.

“And to what god do you believe I pray?” He tilts his head as he stands in front of you, hands behind his back, leaning down at the waist to position his face in front of yours.

The question makes you look up at him with a skewed brow.

“The usual one?” You ask, rolling your eyes at the silly meeting.

Again.

A third meeting.

“Ah, the usual one.” He mocks, nodding his head before standing back up and towering over you. “Do you seek him out?”

You nod momentarily, having never been religious but at this moment, as drunk as you are and as alone as you feel with this strange man, only god could answer your curious question as to why you keep meeting him.

As to why you’re always all on your own when he appears.

As to why he forces a hope in your mind that god is really out there, and he’ll protect you when the bouncer isn’t here.

“Was that a nod?” He smiles at you, landing a cold hand on your shoulder.

“Yes,” You whisper out, feeling heavy and more and more dizzy by the moment. Not from the alcohol but from something else. “Do you know where I can find him?”

Your voice calls out on its own to him. You don’t recall wanting to ask him that, nor do you recall even thinking those words before saying them.

“He’s right here, love–” The priest pulls back, presenting the space in front of him before turning his hands inward and presenting himself to you. “I am God.”

You freeze, a rush of cold running through your veins. Surely you’re hearing him wrong despite that voice echoing those words in your head three, four, five, six times.

“Isn’t that considered blasphemy?” You try to play it off in a joke, hiding the chill down your spine.

Pretending you’re not interested.

Wondering why it is that you are, actually.

“Perhaps on any other street.” He confirms for you, now crouching down and showing his face plainly to you. “Do you keep secrets?”

Your body nods before you can think to do it yourself, and you narrow your eyes for a moment at him. He’s…insane looking. Unnaturally flawless. Like those little speckles of moles on his face were placed with perfected intention.

You’re mesmerized as he looks at you, eyes glancing to each part of your face, watching your expression change and fall, then rise and– he chuckles fondly, deeply.

“I believe you.”

Why do you feel proud of that?

“Come back with me, yes?”

There’s a long pause as you fight to think for yourself. If Jungwon were here with you right now, surely you’d be more grounded than you feel right now. Surely, you’d be having a heated conversation involving some sort of shared fantasy over that bartender.

What was his name again?

J…J-

Your eyes adjust to the face in front of you as you lose your train of thought. Something inside of you pulls. You can’t tell if it’s your heart or your thoughts but it appears to be instinctual when you replay his invitation in your head. On any other night, with any other man, you’d say no.

Under these circumstances alone, you should be running away.

This man. Dressed as a holy priest, walking to and fro from what you assume to be his home within that unnatural cathedral, presenting himself as god.

You should stand up and disappear into a crowd of rowdy dancers.

You should find Jungwon and cling to him.

You should push him away, and you should be recoiling by his cold hand that brushes your cheek. His voice shouldn’t feel so good in your ears. Like a siren, something inside of you doesn’t want you to run.

“Temptation has you by the throat, my dear.” He smiles as his hand brushes your warm cheek again and again. “You seem rather fond of the feeling.”

And now he flashes his teeth to you. Glistening brighter than the moon, he appears all but natural to you at this moment when you spiral internally at how fucking beautiful he is. Surely this guy is just a turbo goth that truly lives the life. Probably gives his heart to satan and only fucks during a full moon.

And oh, wouldn’t you know.

You glance up at the sky again, the moon full and nearly pulsing in the sky like it’s a living being itself. Then your eyes fall back to the priest, his smile still present.

A weirdo. A freak.

But…aren’t you too?

You barely feel yourself stand up and take a step forward under his arm. You follow the scent of him if nothing else. Heavy in your nose, like a hidden treasure cloaked by the darkened fabric draping over his body.

You want to smell it deeper. Maybe if he were to take off those clothes you could–

“By the throat.” He mumbles quietly as he leads you away from the club.

Away from familiarity. Away from Jungwon. Away from the public.

There, straight back to that damned cathedral.

You’re more unnerved this time though, because the moment you step through the doors, you cannot, for the life of you, recall what you were supposed to be doing.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Waking up with a weight on your side, you smile at the feeling of what you assume to be Jungwon next to you. As you lay here, not quite comprehending what happened in the blur of the night before, you start to take note of something. Color.

The light behind your closed eyelids don’t match the yellow-white light of the sun shining through your bedroom window. No, you’re seeing colors.

Blue, red, green–

“Wonnie?” You call out, squinting your eyes open, not quite processing the room before you feel a pit in your stomach. “Wonnie?”

Holy shit.

You thought it was a dream.

You thought coming back to this cathedral was nothing more than a drunken dream. That the weight on your side was more than just a misplaced pillow.

And as you lay here in a room that isn’t yours, and most certainly a different room compared to the one you slept in previously here, you try to think.

Was it not a dream?

The way the priest held you close and inhaled you? The way he put you to bed and left you here in the darkness? The way you– oh.

This feeling in your chest, pulling, pushing, weighing so heavy. Something inside of you wants to see him despite your uncomfortable awakening. No, you need to see him. This feeling, you know now, only becomes more aggressive when he’s near too. Which can only mean he isn’t far outside of this room.

You think hard about him and what you can remember outside of the blur in your head. He’s attractive. His face is otherworldly, with eyes so dark you hate that you can very nearly see yourself floating in them.

The image of his face sits clearly in your hungover brain as you try to think. The feeling of his cold skin against your face, his lips, his…

Red.

Panic washes over you when you jump out of bed, ignoring the head rush and the way you immediately topple over and onto the floor. You need to go home, you need to find Jungwon and make sure he made it somewhere safe last night. You need to find your phone, and your…purse?

Your shoes?

Where the fuck are your things?

You plant your hands against the cold wooden floors, staring straight down as you try to think. Still, nothing comes but blurry images of the club and then solid images of Sunghoon flashing like still photographs behind your eyes.

Are you losing your goddamn mind?

Finally, you take a deep breath and stand on your feet, rushing for the door and expecting it to open easily, just like this time. But no. It’s locked. You’re fucking locked in. Which is– fuck, you can’t think straight. And while you still recognize that you’re not expected at work today, surely Jungown is worried, right?

He’s probably looking for you. Hell, with the way his nerves get to him, you wouldn’t be surprised to know he’s plastered posters all over the city looking for you.

He’s definitely looking for you.

Fortunately though, only a few minutes of pure panic pass when you hear the door unlock and a pale-eyed nun opens the door for you. She instantly sees the fear in your eyes when you take a timid step back.

“Oh, you poor dear–” She coos out, lifting her brows in pity. “Do you not remember?”

You hear her sympathy, feeling your body shiver with relief at her safe and calm voice. Looking up at her, she can already see the question in your eyes. The need for an explanation.

“You did request that I lock the door for you. You were just simply petrified when–”

You gasp at her choice of words, not remembering a single bit of fear from the night before.

“Petrified?” You whisper carefully, wrapping your arms around yourself and nervously looking around the room.

The shrouded woman purses her lips, glancing away from you.

“I do believe Master Sunghoon startled you. He meant no harm, my dear.” She tries to calm your nerves, but the information only stiffens your shoulders more.

“Master?” You question with hesitation. “Do you mean Father? Reverend?”

“Oh.” She purses her lips tighter now, a small smile breaking out at the corners of her lips. “It’s worse than I thought. Please, come with me.”

You shake your head, backing yourself up against the wall.

“It’ll only be a minute,” She waves her hand for you to come. “You’re not in danger, I assure you.”

And as you stand here, knowing that you likely have no choice but to follow her, you hope that her words indicating no danger are truthful. You kind of need them to be, after all.

“Come now, dear.”

Reluctantly, you follow her.

All the way up a too-dark spiral staircase, down two long and dark hallways with vaulted ceilings, and upon rounding a corner, you smell it and you fucking feel a tug in your chest. One that drives you to walk a bit faster, nearly in front of the nun as your feet carry you to where you feel you’re supposed to be.

She chuckles when you reach the large double doors before she does, dipping her head at you before seemingly gliding back down the hallway in silence.

Before you can even knock on the doors, they open with a rush of air hitting you square in your face. It nearly knocks the breath out of you at first, but you inhale deeply the same scent of cinnamon before your breath is actually caught in your throat.

There stands the priest. Or god…or whatever he is.

“Terrified.” He clicks a knowing tongue at you, stepping to the side to invite you into the extravagant room. “Just when I thought you I had you, too.”

You stand in silence in front of him after stepping inside, that tug in your chest trying to pull you directly against the man. Still, you refrain with furrowed brows as you remain silent.

“And yet, here you stand.” He softens his frustrated voice, leaning comfortably against a wooden desk behind him. “The human brain truly is fascinating.”

“Human brain.” You repeat his words to him in an attempt to process them.

“Yes, of course. Yours in particular.” The priest, in his night clothes of a loosened white shirt and long pants makes his way to a bookcase. You watch his slender fingers pull a ratty old book out before he flip through the pages. “I’ve heard about people like you.”

You pause as you watch him push a pair of gold-trimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, a memory flooding to the forefront of your mind as you recall last night to your best ability.

Again, red.

“I used to be like you.” He just talks, offering no context but keeping his sharp gaze on you despite having the book open in his hands.

You find yourself nodding as you listen, feeling your hand raise to your heart as you try to ignore the way the priest, Sunghoon, takes a deep inhale.

There’s nothing that follows his inhale. He doesn’t release that breath as he stares at you and instead just…smirks.

“Last night, you believed me to be god.” He smiles wider now. “You stood in that very spot and undressed yourself.” He takes a step closer to you now, tilting his head with his words. “Do you know what you did next?”

A shaky breath leaves your lips and a shiver runs through you again and again as you shake your head at him. Forgetting just for a moment how to speak.

“You got on your knees and you prayed.”

You drink the thick air in the room like a glass of wine, swallowing harshly, struggling to maintain any type of steady heart beat. You feel allured, aroused, mesmerized, embarrassed.

“What–” Inhale. “Did I pray for?”

Exhale.

“Me.”

Inhale.

Within a split second all the memories come crashing through your skull. Rattling images of that very instance where you were on your knees, right here, fucking praying. Your hand instinctively shoots up to your neck, and there, you feel the drainage points. Two small pricks, just like in all of those movies you watched growing up. Sore, swollen, hot to the touch.

Well, goddamn.

There goes your balance. Your eyes start to blur and you feel yourself fall. Only, you don’t. You can’t when you hear him drop the book to the floor and feel his cold body shoot up and against you to hold you up.

He says nothing at first as he looks down at you, and you couldn’t say anything if you wanted to. You look up at him in a daze, trying to focus, trying to think, but all you can process is the way he inhales again, deeply.

“You ran.” He whispers to you, studying your face and the way your body went from limp to almost holding up on its own in a shorter time than he expected. So strong, you are. Such a fighter.

He inhales again, seemingly drowning in the smell of you before rolling his eyes up and closing them just for a moment. Then, he groans before looking back down at you with eyes almost as dazed as yours.

“You didn’t run away, though.” He adds.

Even as he releases his hold on you, he smiles and inches his face closer and closer to yours. Almost as if he’s making an attempt to stare straight through you.

“I wouldn’t have stopped you, love.”

Your body feels weak as you soak in the truth of last night, your lips instinctively wanting to kiss him. No longer do you feel the need to run away, or to find Jungwon. You’re no longer afraid, even.

Words can’t explain how you feel right now.

“Why didn’t you leave?”

You have no answers for him when you hum out as a response. In fact, you’re not sure if you’ve ever had the ability to answer questions in the first place.

All you feel is euphoria as he continues to talk to you, sweetly smiling and lowering his voice to something that drips like thick syrup down the walls of your brain.

“I can trust you’ll be back then?” He hovers his lips over yours, watching you pucker them for him before backing away with another deep inhale of your scent. “Or would you rather I come pick you up from the vomit-covered sidewalk again?”

You find yourself laughing at that, smiling as you blink at him.

God, he’s so charming.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon had shoo’d you away shortly after, and you managed to make it home in a daze of sunlight and uncanny admiration.

You’re not sure if you can ever feel normal again after that. In fact, you’re quite dissociated and disconnected to the world until you find Jungwon slumped at the entrance of your apartment, sound asleep.

Like a guiding light, his presence grounds you so fast that you feel more dizzy than you did in Sunghoon’s arms. Like your spirit is slammed back into your body and reality is hitting you again. You crouch down in a rush with light taps to Jungwon’s face, those bright eyes widening the moment he realizes that you’re here.

“Where were you?” He whispered drowsily, his dry throat forcing his voice to crack as he shifts his body comfortably against your door.

Immediately, your face is apologetic and your voice is soothing in repeated apologies.

“I’m sorry, Wonnie–” You hiccup, nearly wanting to cry. “I ended up going home with someone, I didn’t mean to leave you there alone.” You continue, pushing your hands under his arms and hoisting him up to stand. “I’m sorry.” You continue, and continue. “I should have left my keys with you, or–”

“Hey,” He whispers sweetly, finally standing on his own and stretching his arms out with an even drier sound. “It’s okay, you’re the one who missed out.”

You tilt your head in question as you reach for your shoulder bag, the one Sunghoon had tucked within his desk drawer, and pull out your keys.

“Oh?” You smile at his lack of care, but part of you kind of shatters at it.

What if you really needed help? How long would it have taken Jungwon to see the red flags? Then again, how long is it going to take for you to see the red flags?

“Oh yeah.” He nods to you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as you push open your door and push him inside. “Jay brought me here, he stayed for a little while, even offered to bring me back to his place.”

You’re a little jealous. You did miss out, it seems. Still, you feel…fond of what you went through last night. Despite the feeling of rot within you when you think about it. Knowing it’s weird. Strange. Unnatural.

A vampire? Really? Surely not.

“Why didn’t you go home with him?” You ask, making your way to your room right behind Jungwon, paying no mind to him as you undress and throw on a t-shirt. “Why’d you sleep at my door?”

Jungwon shrugs, now taking his own outfit off while rummaging through your closet for a shirt you probably got from an ex boyfriend.

“Well,” He looks at you now, really looks at you. “I’m fine if you wanna go home with people but I was a little worried, wanted to make sure you’d actually make it home.”

You pause as you dress yourself for a second sleep, feeling something in your chest flutter out of you at his worry. So he did see the color red.

Not as brightly as you did, but he still saw it.

“I really am sorry.” You furrow your brows as you watch him put that over-sized shirt on and lay on your bed. “I promise, I won’t do that again.”

“You’d better not.” He chuckles, blinking at you and waiting for you to come lay with him.

“Let me go get us some water first, I think we have a lot to sleep off.”

He nods happily to you, only one dimple peeking out at you when you turn to head for the kitchen.

And after that, it’s nice. Not much sleep happened though, mostly just a lot of water chugging and pillow talk before Jungwon shifts with a gasp.

“What the fuck is that?” He bolts up, hovering over you and practically pinning you to the bed as he forces your face to the side.

You know exactly what he’s looking at and explaining it isn’t the hardest thing in the world. After all, you were very drunk last night. So drunk that you’re sure you woke up today still drunk.

A vampire? Hah. There’s no way. You were right to think Sunghoon is just like, really goth. Embarrassingly so. Probably thinks he’s a vampire lord or something.

That pull in your chest? The inhales with no exhales?

It’s all an act and, well, you’re kinda into it if you’re being honest, being hunted and all. The dude is hot as hell, and you don’t mind exploring a little bit of his world.

“Well…” You trail off, lending your looming friend with the smeared eyes an embarrassed smile.

“Those look deep.” His voice drips in concern as he keeps your face turned. “Did it hurt?”

You feel his fingers touching the two puncture wounds. Gentle, warm fingers. They pulse at the touch and sting when he pulls them away to let you turn your face back to him.

“To be honest, I don’t remember feeling it.” You think he’d probably panic if you told the truth right now. About how you were clearly too drunk when it happened. About how you prayed to a man only for him to pierce your neck and drink you up like you did to the drinks just hours prior. You aren’t even sure if you had sex with the guy.

To you though, sober or not, you probably would have still left with Sunghoon last night. With that flawless skin and those dark eyes. Sober or not, if he’s into biting and blood, you’re into it too. More than willing to play his victim.

The fact that you were probably far too drunk at the time doesn’t bother you much because even now, with a grasp on reality, you’d like to think you’d let him do it again. If anything, just to feed your own curiosity.

“Wow, you really are into some freaky stuff–” Jungwon comments playfully, rolling back off of you and then taking a breath. “Make sure you clean them. Who knows where the mouth that did it has been.”

All smiles when you’re with Jungwon, honestly. So much comfort and concern, so much laughing and safety. If it weren’t for him, you honestly wouldn’t know how you’d be feeling right now. And it’s nice knowing that he opts to sleep over with you again. Seemingly preferring your apartment over the home he dropped a hefty wad of cash on for a two month stay.

The feeling of having a best friend swells inside of you with each passing day, and his presence here allows you to go to work and sleep through the night without much more thought to Sunghoon. You love this city and you love the little artist that found himself at your doorstep even more.

Hopefully he meant it when he said he’d come visit you all the time once his time here is over. Unlike you, who changed your mind the moment you saw Jungwon asleep at your door.

“I can trust you’ll be back then? Or would you rather I come pick you up from the vomit-covered sidewalk again?” Sunghoon had said to you. You remember it despite the state of your mind at the time, and you also remember nodding to him.

He seemed satisfied with your confirmation, yet since then you’ve felt no push or pull. No need to have him sucking on your neck or making you feel like he’s a demon wearing the skin of an angel.

Perhaps you’ll just need to be sure you don’t find yourself drunk and alone on the sidewalk again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By mid-week, Jungwon looks sad to know he needs to go back to his respective space for a little while. Not because he wants to, and not even because you want him to.

It’s simply because you need to be alone. You’ve always needed to be in your own space when this happens anyway.

Month after month after month. For years and years.

It never gets comfortable and you’ll never understand why you’re fated to hurt so badly every twenty two days.

Going to work is already difficult enough, bloated in your quirky outfits and smiling through the twisting knots in your gut. Having Jungwon in your space when you very nearly want to strangle every person who asks you how your day has been would only lead to more owed apologies.

“It’s not forever, Wonnie.” You genuinely smile through the pain at his narrowed eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Oh, I’m being dramatic?” He throws his arms up and motions at you. “You just told me you need a few days to bleed out on your kitchen floor.”

“Well, yeah...” You laugh and he frowns.

“I have a sister, you know.” He rolls his eyes. “Who’s gonna buy you snacks and bring you microwaved water bottles?”

“Jungwon.” You land your hands on his shoulders and force him to look at you. “I really just don’t like when people are around me when I'm on my period.”

He blows a strand of his hair up before pursing his lips, accepting the fact that maybe he’s a bit too clingy. Then again, you’re the only person in this city he knows and arguably the only person in this world he’s managed to grow so close with.

Given the fact that the two of you only met like, what? Two weeks ago? He should probably tone it down and not make an attempt to change your lifestyle just so he can sleep next to someone.

“Fine.” He huffs, frowning harder. “But if you need snacks or–”

“I’ll call you.” You shake his shoulders before forcing him into a bear hug. “Thanks though.”

And with that, you go your separate ways at the end of the work day and try to ignore how the pain medicine did close to nothing all day to help with the twisting in your abdomen.

Still, you’re relieved to know you can tough out the next few days in silence due to Jungwon backing you up on your false-sickness nonsense nearing the end of your shift.

“I feel like I’m coming down with a fever.” You whined to your boss, happy that the first day cold-sweats from your period makes it appear as just that. A fever.

“She’s been a bit out of it all day. If you need me to help out on the down-low while she’s recovering, I don’t mind.” Jungwon had added, smiling at your boss and not at all bothered by the unpaid work he’ll probably have to do for your sake.

A great friend he is. You’re lucky to have met him.

An amazing friend, really. For helping you find space for yourself in crowded clubs and within your own bed. For lending a hand at work and showing up every day for your shifts despite simply being an artist that’s presenting his work there. No where is he needed within that museum outside of, well, you.

And he’s always there. So for him to not be here now, when you’re making your way to your apartment door? It feels...wrong. Mostly because, as alone as you are when you walk inside and as silent as it is, you don’t entirely feel as alone like you once did here.

Still, you go about your nightly routine and fall into bed with those same cramps in your gut. It’s not long before you’re drifting off, pleased to know that at least when you’re sleeping, there’s no pain in your body.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A strong scent wakes you, forcing your eyes open in the darkness of your room.

Familiar. Warm. Spicy.

Cinnamon.

A tug, just a little pull inside of you brings you to your feet as you wander through your apartment. Straight to the front door. Straight out of the front door.

“You know where I live?” You whisper drowsily, rubbing your eyes and walking straight into his grasp, ignoring the feeling of sticky blood leaking out of you just from getting out of bed alone.

“No.” Sunghoon speaks against your hair, rubbing your arms as he holds you against him.

“Oh.” You accept his answer with a nonchalant feeling inside of you. Who even cares how he ended up here?

“Come back with me?” He whispers, already taking a step back and smiling wickedly when you instantly follow, forcing your nose further against his chest and up to his neck. “I hear it dripping, love, come.”

And you do. All the way downstairs and into a car with heavily tinted windows.

You feel comfortable, safe.

The cramps in your belly are nowhere near as you slowly but surely come to your senses. Half-awake but feeling buzzed next to him. Still, you smile while keeping your nose planted up and against his neck even as he drives.

You like the sound of his little laughs each time he tries to push you back to your seat, and you like even more the way he mutters to himself through it when he relents and lets you do as you please. The short drive in the dead of night doesn’t offer much in terms of danger anyway.

And slowly still, your mind clears. Breaking out of the buzzed fog when he brings you through the cathedral

silently. Past the pale-eyed nuns with pursed smiling lips, past the windows and hallways.

No longer are you buzzed by the time you make it through those heavy doors of the extravagant room. The same one you prayed in. The same one you nearly fainted in. The same one you tried to forget.

“How do you feel?” He asks just moments after the doors close.

You can sense the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice when he asks you that, only now realizing that you’re in your pajamas and fucking staining them.

“What do you mean?” You ask, squeezing your legs together in an uncomfortable show of what’s happening between them.

“Are you awake?” He asks now, still slightly hesitant in front of you. You can almost see him hold himself back.

From something.

“As far as I know.” You tilt your head, glancing around the room. “Um, can I go to the bathro–”

“Can you read that clock?” He interrupts you and points to the candle-lit wall.

“Three thirty–” You pause, squinting to make sense of the exact minute. “three.”

He smiles at the fact that you’re entirely awake with him this time, despite the drowsy lure he had you in when he appeared at your door.

You’re here of your own free will, and you’re not running.

“Do you want to go home?”

You’re confused by the questions. As confused and drunk as you felt upon stumbling out your apartment door, you very much came here willingly. If anything, you’re just a little weirded out by the fact that you were paying such close attention to him that you missed the way blood seeped through your clothes.

“No?” You offer back to him before taking a deep breath. “Can you show me where the bathroom is though?”

And before you can even comprehend it, Sunghoon is right up against you. Looming and staring down as his hands rest on your shoulders before sliding down to your waist.

“Now, now.” He chuckles, lowering his face just an inch, resting his lips on your forehead. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because I’m gross right now?” You laugh awkwardly, trying to take a step back but realizing that his grip on you tightens.

“Oh, have you forgotten?” He laughs out, lowering himself more, dragging his lips all the way down your face, neck, chest.

“Ah, wait–” You panic when you feel his nose against your stomach, threatening to go lower. “I’m like…” You’re embarrassed to say it now.

After all, you came here with the clear indication of fucking. Period or not, you’re not afraid of a little bit of blood but…this.

“Sunghoon, I’m on my period.” You finally speak into the room, trying to push his face from your stomach.

“I know.” He smiles, pressing his nose harder against your stomach. “Drove me crazy all day.” He dips his face down instantly, inhaling deeply between your legs.

Something inside of you is insanely turned on by his blatant interest in you.

“All day?” You ask, hands reaching for his hair as he drags his nose straight through the mess you’ve made.

“Could smell it, darling.” He laughs, pulling back and looking up at you. “Smells so sweet, not gross. Delicious.”

Why the fuck is the blood smeared against the tip of his nose so alluring? Jungwon was right, you really are into some freaky shit. Then again, it’s not so weird considering you’ve never done this before. Everyone’s gotta start somewhere when it comes to kinks, right?

“Can smell something else too.” He looks back between your legs, ignoring that you are trying to act like you don’t want to let him. “You’re aroused.”

Oh.

And just as you’re preparing for some sort of pressure between your thighs, you feel a waft of cold air rush up your body when he stands and grabs your face with both hands.

“You never came back.” He hisses against your lips, dragging you back and further into the room with him. “I had to sniff you out like a fucking dog.”

Your mouth falls open at the spiteful shift in his voice, following his movements all the way into the room until he’s spinning around and pushing you from his hold. You fall back against something insanely soft, and instantly you moan at the feeling of silk against you.

Barely able to catch your breath, he’s over you. He’s on you. Tucking his face into the crook of your neck with a low rumbled growl in his throat and inhaling over and over again.

Inhale. Inhale. Inhale.

And you can feel him nose his way all the way up to your face, opening his eyes and staring straight through you with slack lips just over yours.

You’re mesmerized by him at this moment. Never has a man acted this way with you and it’s insane to think you’d ever be satisfied with someone who wouldn’t. You almost strain your neck to kiss him, and you truly would have if it weren’t for the fact that you feel him sink his hand into your shorts.

Not even a second to truly comprehend how ice-cold his fingers feel when he slips them down and slides two of them into you. He watches your face when he does it, his own slack lips turning to a smile when you moan out at the smallest of pleasure he wants to offer you.

“Oh, look at you,” He coos, feeling your arms shoot around his shoulders when he continues to slide the digits in and out of you. “So sticky, what a pretty little mess.”

You groan in embarrassment at the act, knowing full well that you’ll have to face the fact that you like it at some point after he’s finished with you. You don’t mind admitting it so much now though. The way his fingers slide through the thick mess, forcing the scent of brass to mix with his own cinnamon aroma? To die for, truly.

“I could just eat you up–” He chokes in a whisper this time, struggling to maintain his composure from the sickening sweet smell of your blood. “Would you like that?”

You lift up instantly, kissing against his slackened smile. It’s one sided, as he simply lets you do it and nothing more. Mostly because he, himself, is spiraling into a frenzy of what he needs more than what you want. It’s all pleasure the same though, as he feels your tongue trace against one of his sharpened teeth.

Just a small bite. Just a taste.

“Ah–” You pull back in a wince, the flavor of blood hitting the back of your taste buds as you look up at him with confusion.

He doesn’t allow much looking though, as you hear that same rumble from his throat right up against your lips. You feel his tongue lick you up, slurping the blood straight from your new wound and moaning through the flavor of it.

His eyes flutter closed as he tries to hold down his thirst, knowing that his fingers are fucking dripping with this same sweet, red slick. It wouldn’t take much now for him to break and let it all drip down his throat. He could end this now if he’s not careful.

And when he opens his eyes again as he pulls back from your sweet tongue, he notes the look of confusion still on your face. His eyes roll in fond annoyance at you for that, only because you have this stubborn need to question despite having the clear answer bleeding from your mouth.

“You’re still trying to pretend you don’t realize?” He asks, whispering real close to your lips, darting his tongue out and offering a small kitten lick as he buries his fingers deep.

Your lips open for him in a moan and he licks into it again. Your still bleeding tongue only drives him further and further from a stable mindset. No one, not in hundreds of years, has tasted this fucking sweet. He almost can’t savor it with the way his body rises from slumber at the mere fucking scent of you from ten blocks away.

His cock pulses for the first time in decades for you. God, he feels more alive than he did when he was actually cycling blood through his veins.

“You just sliced open that pretty tongue on my teeth.” He chuckles, basking in the warmth he can only feel with you beneath him. “My fangs, love.” His fingers continue their slide all the while, the sounds of squelching blood filling his ears more than your soft groans for more. “Still, you seem to deny what this is and what I am.”

You can hear his words, but comprehending them isn't quite as easy. Like, yes, he’s got a vampire kink. Whatever.

“I get it, you’re kinky.” You huff out, missing the way he stifles a laugh at your denial of the truth.

“You’re a stubborn one–” He smiles, flashing the same fang that sliced through your tongue. “It’s a bit frustrating. Perhaps even endearing.”

And then, suddenly, his fingers come to a halt and he waits for you to look at him. Just as you go to speak, he’s sliding his fingers out of your mess so quickly, shushing you with his red stained digits.

“Now, listen.”

It’s silent. More silent than you ever thought the world could be.

“Do you hear it?”

You shake your head, feeling his fingers leave a trail of your blood against your lips as he drags them away and up to his own mouth.

There, he hangs his fingers from his mouth, licking gently and tasting thoughtfully before sliding them further in. He sucks them clean in an erotic show of his blood-lust before letting them fall from his still licking tongue. Then, he’s slotting them right back between your legs, wanting more to taste.

“No? You don’t hear how loud it is?” He asks now in a lower tone, still thirsty, still in need, dipping down to lick the blood from your face. “All that blood in you, bundled up right–” His fingers press hard against your clit. “Here.”

Your body jolts in pleasure, eyes rolling back at the mere sensitivity he forces your body into. God, kinky is right. He knows how to use words. His voice is so elegant while spewing the filth, so proper.

“Ahh, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He questions you in a moan that mimicked your own, now lowering himself from your face and kissing down your clothed chest. Down, down, down. “Do you think you’ll believe me when you feel the blood drain out of you?” His voice echoes in your ears, reminding you of the vampire-like thirst he’s trying to act upon.

And when he slips your shorts down your legs, you don’t even protest. Which at this point isn’t weird at all. The dude is insanely into it and you can’t help but feel like you can vibe with it if he keeps acting like this. He’s good at roleplaying.

Instead of an embarrassed protest, you respond to him by spreading your legs and presenting the red mess he’s smeared all over you. Inviting him.

He glances up at you as he watches, saying nothing, thinking nothing except for the fact that– you are perfect.

In every way, spread out and dripping blood, perfect.

You feel an intense jolt of pain shoot through your body just seconds later, followed by a loud and almost animalistic moan from the man between your legs. You lift slightly as you try to look down at him, witnessing the way he sucks the flesh of your thigh into his mouth, blood weeping from the new wounds his teeth create.

So much blood. He’s the one drunk now, utterly fucking mesmerized by the amount of it you pour for him. Your fleshy thighs offer the freshest, he couldn’t help but take a sip before giving you what your quivering body is truly begging for. He has to quench the genuine thirst before playing with his food, at least.

And as you watch him it’s like you’re nothing but a piece of meat at this moment. He’s sucking and sucking against your thigh until you’re sure your toes are numb. They’re tingling, and you can physically feel the blood being pulled from you. As if his teeth are two syringes seeping it out of you.

Af if they are. Not because they actually are, right?

And by the time your toes are effectively filled with static, he finally releases the fleshy bite on your thigh. You stare down, listening to him smack his lips and lick the corners of his mouth, seeing the way he doesn’t make eye contact with you at all before he’s turning his attention and burying his tongue into your crimson coated cunt. Without warning, but with so much eagerness with his tasting lips.

Your eyes flutter with a loud and strained gasp, eliciting a groan of his own to bubble into the blood that falls against his tongue with each passing pulse of you. He licks in time with your heartbeat, which is fucking insane that you can tell he does it. Never before now have you heard your heart beat so loudly, so frantically in your ears.

And you would be embarrassed, perhaps even worried that the taste is awful. Maybe it’s too much for him, maybe this kink is all just for show and this is a limit he’s only willing to try once before realizing himself that he doesn’t necessarily like drinking the blood from a woman’s pussy…except– Sunghoon gives you no reason to feel like any of that is true.

No, no. Oh no. He’s fucking relishing in it and you can tell by the way he moans and skews his head to dig his tongue deeper. You can tell by the way he smothers himself, not coming up for air for even a second of the time he’s spending down there.

And god, you can feel the mess of it all. Sticky, smearing all over your thighs when his fingers trace you mindlessly before gripping your thighs just to pull you down the bed, closer against his face, sliding his tongue ever deeper.

Moaning, fucking slurping it out of you without so much as a breath.

He’s not breathing.

And now? You panic, focusing more on the time he’s spending burying his mouth and nose into you than the feeling of it. Your hand shoots down into his hair, pulling his head back and away from you.

Then your breath is caught in your throat at the sharp image. His eyes blown out, widened at you. Nose, cheeks, chin, tongue all glistening with sticky crimson slick, and a smile.

He smiles at you.

At least before his tongue is clicking and he’s poking it into the side of his cheek before reaching back, grabbing your hand, and shoving it out of his hair before sinking his face right back between your legs. As if to show you that he was annoyed by that.

You don’t get to think about it though, because this time he’s licking you more frantically than he already was. Fast tongue flicking and fucking you, his teeth dragging against your pussy lips, refusing to let you believe that he wants to breathe fresh air right now.

Your hands find purchase in his hair yet again though, and you feel him grip your legs and stiffen his shoulders to keep his head in place just in case you try to pull him from you again. You hear the deep growl. You feel it rumble against you as if to warn you to keep your hands to yourself if you’re not going to let him do exactly what he said he would fucking do.

So, you don’t pull him away. Instead, you play in his hair with your weak hands. Twisting and twirling strands of it between your fingers until he’s pulling his tongue back on his own.

A shock to you, truly, that he does it at all. But you guess it makes sense when you feel another sharp pain in your thigh, right below the preview bite he had given you.

Just when you were gaining feeling back in your toes too.

And he goes back and forth like that for a while, until his face is utterly soaked in diluted blood and pussy-slick. Until he needs to look at it pulse, and watch how beautiful you still, fucking still, have more to pour out for him.

He’s amazed, really. Never has he served himself a woman that’s openly bleeding for him like this. After all, he prefers to drink his dinner from the carotid artery and be done with it. He was far more creative back in the day though, you know, when his cock still worked.

Most of his sexual pleasure came from drinking alone. Never getting hard but always reaching climax in one way or another when he gets that last, delicious drop of blood from his victims. But now? Oh, now. You’ve stirred his arousal back to life. Not from pure hunger, but lust.

It’s been so long that he’s lusted. So, so fucking long since he’s cared enough to fuck his prey or give in to the temptation of menstrual blood. In fact, he can’t even recall ever allowing his victims to fall away from the drowsy lure he puts them in. Many of them didn’t know what was happening to them before death and he preferred it that way.

Until you. An average looking commoner with insane fucking blood. Devilish blood. Divine, demonic, angelic, fucking celestial tasting blood.

After all this time, he’s had beautiful face after beautiful face. He’s had men, women, celebrities, false-prophets, and even purely divine bodies.. But you…oh no, he can’t simply kill you like those utter throw-aways.

There was a reason he didn’t end you the first night. Something in him caught fire on the taste of your drunken blood. The alcohol you had ran through his veins along with a taste he’s never once fathomed existing. It was the first time in hundreds of years where he forced himself to let you walk out of his quarters.

Blood with no comparison. So thick, so sweet, so…damning. How could he have just killed you there? How could he pretend like it’s not addicting? Like he didn’t want you to continue producing more and more of it, all for him to drink up?

Of course he wants all of it. He wants to drain you to your last fucking drop, but then he’d never taste it again. Not in thousands of years, at least. So now, as his cock pulses awake and your heavy flow only produces more and more for his hungry mouth to lick up– fuck.

It’s been so long since he’s felt something for a victim like this, and even longer since he’s wanted to use his cock. No, needing to use it. It feels almost foreign to him now after so many centuries, to fuck and eat at the same time. To indulge in all the pleasure, and not just the one that keeps him alive. To want you to feel the pleasure too, to need you to want him without the false sleep forcing it.

You.

You’re the one. You’re the one he’s going to keep. For as long as you’ll let him, and when you stop letting him, he’ll have no choice but to lure you again. Forever. All for him.

“Love,” He rasps out, staring at the way your pussy shines so prettily in front of him, the pulse drawing him to near starvation despite being drenched in his meal. “Never have I wanted to fuck before I–”

Kill, is the word he almost used. It’s instinctual, but instead he releases a moan from his throat at the mere thought ignoring that instinct. Drinking, sipping. Forever just a fucking appetizer and never the full meal. He can settle. He will settle.

Never. Truly never has he wanted to stop himself from drinking just to fuck and he needs you to know that. The feeling is too erotic for even him to comprehend right now, meshing with his hunger and making him feel –-

Gods be damned, he could kill you.

He should kill you. Given the fact that he has never let a meal leave this room without being drained entirely. Never while they’re awake and fully aware anyway. Insanity. You’ve made him go insane, losing his wits enough to treat you as something more than a victim.

Despite hunting you as one. Despite never having to hunt anyone like he has you. Wanting you to be here willingly. Wanting you to love the feeling of his thirst. Wanting you to learn how good the drain feels. Wanting you to know what he is and needing you to love it.

Needing you to stay alive.

Insane.

He’s fucking losing it.

He knows that if he can never smell this scent again, if he can never taste it, or have your fingers in his hair, if he can never want to fuck again? Oh, he’d crumble.

He’d take a walk at noon.

You’re not dying tonight. In fact, never shall you feel the cold slab of a morgue freezer if he has anything to do with it. No blood wasted when it comes time for you, and no life truly lost either.

If just for the sex. If just to quench a never ending thirst.

If just to live in insanity.

“Before you–” You release in a breath that he chases. As if craving the life under him like an animal. “Before you, what?”

“Kill.” He whispers as he swallows each breath of yours, tasting the sweet sleep that you once held in your body. His own eyes feeling drowsy as if you have your own lure on him now.

Even the panicked gasp you release at his choice of word there, he swallows it, kissing you hard in a drowsy groan and smearing the blood all through the kiss, letting your breath rumble out of his mouth as if the moan were from his own lungs.

“So vacuous.” He chuckles now, feeling the pleasure of his cock jolt through his body. He presses himself between your legs, relishing in the sticky blood seeping straight through his sleep pants. “Do you feel that?” He continues, rutting against you as if he’s a virgin of all that he’s experiencing right now, licking each smear of blood from your cheeks and chin.

“Ah, Sunghoon,” You groan, but you try to be serious in your tone. Feeling the orgasm that once was bubbling up settle back in your stomach. “You’re making a mess.”

“Mm, I am.” He mutters mindlessly, pressing harder against you now as the taste settles in his throat. “Love, tell me. You feel it?”

Of course you fucking feel it.

The nod you lend pleases him, knowing that it’s not just his imagination. Finally, he can feel the warmth of a living being wrapped around him. Finally, he doesn’t feel so cold.

“You can’t fathom what it is that you do to me,” He continues his sweet talk, running his lips down to your neck, leaving trails of that blood all the way before immediately piercing his teeth into the same wounds he left on you already. He feels your pulse against his teeth when he sucks and only groans weaker against you as he ruts.

“Ah–” You wince in pain again, feeling the wound reopen with a cold and sharp prick. The pain ignites something inside of you to press your hips up, sliding yourself against his red-drenched pants.

He chuckles into his bite at your willingness, his hands reaching straight down to shove his pants down in one movement. Euphoria runs through him at the feeling of your warm blood against him when he presses back against you.

Really, the feeling alone paired with the taste of your fresh blood yet again only drives him to keep going. After all, he has all the time in the world. His intention to keep you here only lends him the ability to press his length straight into that bloody, sopping wet hole of yours. The one pulsing for him, the one that lends his favorite smell, taste, and feeling in the world.

His teeth are forced to retract when he throws his head back at the sensation of sinking deep into your cunt, one fluid motion reminding him of how much he loved this feeling before. How often he’d fuck, and fuck, and fuck until suddenly, he just– couldnt.

You’ve ignited so much life within him, even while doing nothing more than lying here bleeding. No longer does he feel bored with the world considering he’s managed to find you in it. He could possibly even love you if you let him.

Especially with the way you react nearly the same as he does. As if you haven’t fucked before. As if you’ve never mixed scents with another being before ever coming to this city to chase your own demise. The little sounds you make could be so much more than what you think they are.

They’re so similar to the ones you make when he bites, when he sucks, oh, so so similar. So deeply seeped in pleasure, pain, hesitation.

“Darling, are you afraid?” Sunghoon manages to say as he feels himself warm from inside of your tense body. “Do you believe me now? Do you understand now?”

You frantically shake your head at the tear of his cock spreading your walls open around it. That one slide rendering you near faint considering the amount of blood he’s taken from you already. The feeling of…ice. It’s in you, running from your veins all throughout your body. So, so, fucking cold.

No, no, no. No living being on this earth could feel this hard inside of you while being this…oh. His hands have been cold on you too. Always. His scalp under your fingernails as you scratched. His lips, his tongue, all of it was freezing until your blood was coating him. Everything about him is ice.

Still, you shake your head through the pleasure, cock warming him both literally and unintentionally. He just sits inside of you, feeling the beat of your heart gush that same blood past his length and out of you. Your eyes slightly open to look at him, afraid of what you’ll see.

He’s smiling. His eyes are…brighter.

“C–cold.” You manage to stutter out, nearly feeling brain freeze from the way he pulls his hips back and plunges into you again, warm blood splashing out and against his pelvis, coating your thighs more. And oh, that bite on your thigh, it’s dripping again.

“So cold, yes?” He chuckles when he dips down, moving his hips steadily in and out of your sticky mess. No longer thirsty, just…aroused. “Do you understand?”

You frantically shake your head again, grabbing onto him from over his shirt. You’re panicking inside, your fingers gripping so tight, trying to find heat. Needing heat.

How did you not think about this more? It took this to recognize that he never warms? And he’s smiling at your panic?

God, but it feels so, so fucking good.

“Love,” He coos at your panic, pistoning his hips easily with the slide, bringing both of his hands to your face and forcing you to look at him. “I’m dead.”

Ah.

So he is.

Yet, the feeling of him inside of you feels better than you’ve ever had. The way his hands hold your face, the way his eyes blow out for you, the way his entire face is tinted in red. He’s so alive yet…

Entirely dead.

“You’re afraid?” He asks through his own forgotten pleasure, wanting you to stay but entirely willing to put you to sleep so this doesn’t have to end.

“Sunghoon,” You interrupt any words he’s about to give you, opting to continue fighting the truth when you note the softer tone of voice he uses despite the quickening pace of his hips. “Harder.”

Oh, the fire within burns colder than it ever has at those words. He doesn't even need to pull you? You don’t want to pretend this isn’t happening? You’re accepting him?

If you want him to go harder, he’ll make you feel like no other. Harder he goes, using all of his pent up frustration of not being able to drain you fucking dead, all of his strength, all of everything he’s missed out for the past centuries– all of it. It’s behind his thrusts now as he slams into you. The blood that splatters out only makes the moment all the more grand to him.

Breaths leave you with each slam, the sticky sound from below being drowned out by the sheer sound your heart rate in your ear. You’re still panicking, but you can’t help but want more. After all, surely what’s left for you after he’s done is….no, it’s not real.

He feels the fear pulse around his cock and moans out at it, the squeeze so tight, the gush so delicious. This entire room smells of you, and he wants it to be fucking drenched in you. The fear inside of you right now only intensifies the pleasure, and he knows he should be calming you through it, he knows he should tell you that you’re making out of this alive, but–

The way the heart beats so frantically when one is terrified. You’re dripping with fear, the smell of your blood intensifies with each petrifying pulse squeezing his cock to the point he feels his own heart make an attempt to pulse. Your life runs through him entirely out of fear that you’ll lose it.

He can’t tell you, not when your body reacts so flawlessly. Exactly how it’s supposed to react. So delicious is that fear, he wonders if it makes your blood taste any hotter. He dips down, sinking his teeth into your neck once again and confirms his suspicions. It does taste hotter, sweeter, and it pumps itself so beautifully against his eager fangs. Almost as if you truly bleed for him, because he’s not even needing to suck for it at this point.

It just drips, and pours, and bubbles out all for him to swallow up.

You push through it though, the pain is so good, and if this is what it’s like to die, perhaps you’ve found yourself in a lucky position. At least you’re not being ripped to pieces by a stranger, or crushed beneath your own car on a highway. At least this way, you’re being held and seemingly adored.

And the fear, excitement, and pure adrenaline in your body forces it out of you. A rush of heat slamming Sunghoon right in his gut when you convulse under him. Legs shaking as you moan out both in disbelief and intense ecstasy. The blood tastes even sweeter now for him, so sweet that he has to pull back in a guttural and demonic growl.

It’s been so, so long since he’s felt a woman cum around him. His own body reacts in an instant, releasing his own thick secretion into you as you shake through it. Sweating, panting, drooling, crying, bleeding. All for him.

And the explosion behind his eyes is a reminder to keep you alive. He forces himself to keep the inhale from happening as he plunges into you one last time, coating the inside of your bloody walls with a flurry of freezing ropes. Amazed at the feeling he has long forgotten, his body shakes through it and renders him near psychotic for the release.

You continue to shake with him, shivering at how the man makes you feel as if you’ve been lying in snow for days, but you keep your eyes closed.

You’re terrified of him, of this, of the truth hitting you square between the eyes as if it wasn’t obvious all along. Fantasies, legends, fairy tales. How many of them are based in reality?

You know what’s coming now, based on those same stories.

The last bite, the drain, fuzzy images, death.

And you embrace for it, trying to relish in the post-orgasm bliss before it happens because you know there’s no way to run from him. If he’s truly what he says he is, there’s no chance in this world that you can stop him. You’re going to die, and the strange way in which your brain accepts the inevitable is more calming than petrifying.

You never knew you’d be able to prepare for it like this, but here you are. Waiting for it. Accepting it. And when you feel the air of his body shift down to you, right up against your neck, you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath.

His cold hand tilts your face and all you can do is anticipate as you feel his teeth graze the abused and swollen marks there.

Here it is.

You inhale deeply, hoping that if there’s an afterlife, this last breath will be a good memory for you until–

A kiss.

He kisses the wounds. He licks them. He nuzzles his cold nose against them, and then he pulls out of you and lays directly on top of you.

It’s silent as you lay here, still trying to prepare to fucking die and he’s just prolonging it?

“Get it over with.” You gripe, frustration dripping out in your weak voice.

It’s laughable, really, that you’ll sound so argumentative and petty over the loss of your life. So laughable that even he’s chuckling about it, right against your ear with no breath fanning against your skin.

“Get what over with, darling?” He asks, not having felt this drowsy drained state in so long.

Your mind is racing though, seemingly trying to think of everything that has ever happened in your life onto everything you wish still could happen, only to consistently land on the fact that you don’t want to believe what’s happening.

You know very well the denial you’re forcing yourself into, even in the face of demise, you don’t want to believe any of this.

“I still can’t believe that you’re— No,” You dead-pan before taking in a terrified breath, still keeping your eyes closed. “They’re not real.”

“I’m very, very real.” Sunghoon argues back, infatuated with the denial you try to keep. “You know that I am.”

“So, you have to kill me then?” Your voice gets smaller as you accept the truth little by little, your breath shakier. “Fucking get it over with then, stop trying to savor it, it’s not like I can run now, right?”

You still like the way he laughs, so breathy despite having no breath of his own. And through that laugh, he lends another kiss before you feel all of that weight lift from you and dip onto the bed next to you instead.

“Don’t beg for it.” Sunghoon warns, pulling away from you and forcing his instinct to remember the release of the orgasm he just had. “I won’t be able to stop myself if you ask me so prettily.”

You pause, your eyes opening against your will as you look at him. He’s facing away from you, but you can see the damp blood drying in the strands of his hair. Your eyes trail down, a puddle of blood staining nearly the entire lower half of the bed and it’s still dripping out of you.

Or perhaps, that’s whatever it is he fucking shoved into you and fucked out of himself.

“None of this is happening.” You say to yourself. “I did not just fuck a vampire.”

“You’re right.” He comments with another laugh. “A vampire just fucked you.”

Well. You’re still not ready to believe that. Even with the absence of heat, even with the lack of breathing.

“Prove it.” You ask, unsure as to why you’re wanting it both to be real and just a dream.

You back away when he immediately does as he’s asked. Turning to you and crawling over you. There, he lowers his body, chest to your cheek.

“Listen.” He says, reaching to hold your face and press it up and against his chest. “Anything?”

You wait, listening for a thump, anything to prove he’s wrong. Fucking any sound at all to blow his cover.

You’re frozen as you listen, your body going into fight or flight as the seconds turn to minutes. Unfortunately, your body is not a fighter, nor a flier. You’re stuck with his hand on your cheek, holding you so tightly against something you wish was alive.

A little thump, thump, thump could be the most relieving sound to you, but no. There’s nothing.

You pull away from him now, body still frozen but head running a mile a minute. How many proofs does he need to provide for you to understand that it’s not fantasy?

And finally, you feel your body jerk away from him on its own. He’s startled by the movement and you use that short second to roll off of the bed. You do your best to stand, but your brain immediately pulses in pain. Your vision goes fuzzy, dizzy.

Right, you’ve lost a lot of blood tonight. To think your toes aren’t still numb, to think you’d be able to stand without dropping to the ground.

“Thousands of years.” Sunghoon stands quickly, stalking over you and wrapping his arms around you. There, he presses you back on the bed and straddles your hips. “I’ve never told another soul and let them live to remember it– until you.”

You shake under him, the weight feeling more dead now than it ever has. He’s heavy as he holds you down, but somehow his grip on you is gentle. His voice is soft. His eyes are hesitant. He’s not holding you here to hurt you, it seems.

“My love, I told you time and time again,” He glances away from you, feeling something within him shrivel at the thought that now you’re unwilling. “Is it different now? To find that I’ve told no lies to you?”

Still, he soothes you as you try to comprehend reality. You think hard through the dizzy fog of blood-loss, running more with your mind than your body. He did tell you. And you’re still alive. He just drank and drank from you, and you’re still alive.

He came to your apartment, he told you he smelled you.

He’s never lied.

You just refused to listen.

He drank you, he fucked you, he held you, and now he’s holding you.

“I don’t want you to fear me.” Sunghoon admits with sad eyes, trying to ignore how long it’s been since he’s felt sad at all.

So many emotions you force him to feel, this was not one he was looking forward to.

“How can I not be afraid?” You breathe out in slurred speech, as if to mock him, because you now know that he truly can’t do it himself.

“It’s too late to be afraid.” He says apologetically. “You’d have died weeks ago had I wanted it.”

Why are you still falling in love with his voice? With his stupid grammar, and his horrifying dead-skin? Even with the fear in your stomach, why does this make your heart flutter?

“I’ve never felt so full,” He admits now, releasing his grip on you slowly. He can smell your heart slow, knowing you’re starting to calm now. “Until now.”

You stare up at him as your eyes recover back to clear vision, in awe of how gentle a killer is being with you. Inspecting the way he’s drenched in your blood, yet you truly still are breathing. He could have killed you time and time again.

But he didn’t.

He’s never once lied to you about what he is, and still you struggle to believe what he says. Even when his words match his actions. Sure, he’s a vampire, but he’s not going to kill you?

What reason do you have to believe him save for the blatant truth behind it? Do you want to believe him? Would you rather be dead?

He knows you can’t fathom the truth so quickly though, and that’s why he’s being gentle. He has nothing more than patience to give to you, if it’ll end in your acceptance anyway. The fact that he can hear your heart beating correctly again only gives him hope that he’s right about not having killed you on the first night.

After all, he truly hasn’t lied to you. Never has he felt full, even after killing several a night. Always hungry, always thirsty, always needing more and more of the syrupy life strangers offer to him under his lure. But you. Entirely aware, flowing with blood that drives him crazy…you’ve managed to fill that desire in him.

Why should he lie to you? Why would he kill you if there is no need? Despite fighting the instinct, he’s satiated by you. His cold body warms with yours. He will never get enough of you, so how on earth could he just…take that away from himself?

And you do stop fighting. In fact, you lay with him in a bloodied mess and sleep. Despite wanting to ask questions, wondering if he can even sleep at all. Your body is tired, your mind is still petrified, and your hands still cling to the source of it, unsure if you’ll make it to morning at all.

Still, somehow, this feels holy.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

PART TWO

#enhypen smut #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon smut

1K notes · View notes

coco-loco-nut · 20 days

Note

Hii!

Can I please ask for an angsty fic with Max, where the reader defends him from Jos after not finishing his race in Melbourne...idk if you remember when Max kept his helmet for four hours after a race because he was afraid of what Jos would have done to him after not winning...and the reader basically tells Jos to get lost even if she's like 5'4 and definitely not as intimidating as them both lol.

And then maybe after the win in Suzuka, they "reconcile" but she still reminds him to act right around her boyfriend, who's now a man and not a little boy he could pressure like he once did.

Sorry if it's too long!! Thanks for taking your time and reading my request!

Guard Dog

Pairing: Max x Reader

Summary: You are sick and tired of watching Max take Jos' shit

TW: verbal abuse

A/n: thank you soooo much for the rec, I love writing these out so much <3

requests open masterlist

----------------

"Maxie... are you okay?" you wait patiently by the door to his driver's room, careful not to barge in like Jos would, as you have for the past year since you first witnessed Jos' beratement of his son. He is sitting on the couch with his helmet between his hands. The fire causing an unpleasant start to the race, and you are just glad you got here first.

"I'm okay," his voice cracks and you step into the room, closing the door behind you. "I know it wasn't my fault, but I can't help but feel like it was my fault," Max looks in your eyes, the fire brewing behind them. You were genuinely the sweetest girl he's ever met, and to get you mad took a lot. God help you if Jos shows up, you are tired of Max feeling bad even when he podiums.

"You're right, you didn't do anything wrong, the car failed you today," you stay calm, sitting beside him and cuddling into him. Max stays quiet, enjoying your warmth, and decompressing from the start. He can understand why the fans were so happy to see him lose, in fact, if he wasn't himself, he would join them. No, the fear of his father is what has him on edge. Rightfully so, because a few seconds later the door is slammed open again.

"Max, what the hell did you-" Jos starts and you launch yourself off the couch. Jos and Max were big guys, and you were average height for a woman, 5'6 or so, but you didn't seem like it in that moment.

"Shut the hell up and leave. You have nothing useful to say and you are going to shift blame to Max who had NO fault in the DNF," you snarl, setting yourself up as a barrier between the two, Jos still in the doorway and Max on the couch.

"Girl, I don't know who you think you are, but I am Max's father, and I can-," You cut Jos off before he can continue.

"No, you aren't his father. A father doesn't talk to his son like that, you are simply a man who shares the same last name as Max. A father is someone like Carlos Sainz Sr or Lawrence Stroll. No, you are a man- sorry a boy in a man's body- who can't cope with the fact that he doesn't race anymore and wants the man who shares the same last name with him to be impossibly perfect and win every single race, even when the car breaks down." You sneer at the man. "You need to leave, before I call security and make them remove you," you don't back down, instead you step closer. Max watches in both awe and fear.

"I-"

"Leave, Jos, now. Don't make me repeat myself," you say, practically slamming the door behind him. You turn around and look at Max, seemingly calm and normal. He looks at you bewildered.

"That was the sexiest thing ever. Thank you, Schatje, you didn't have to do that," Max hugs you, a large weight off of his shoulders.

"Of course I did, who else will be your guard dog?" You smile at him, squeezing him tighter. "Now, get changed and get back to the garage," you tell Max, stepping out to the room. You let out a deep breath, surprised with how you treated Jos and stood up for Max. A couple minutes later, Max rejoins you, quickly stopping inside hospitality for a snack.

The two of you avoid Jos, going extremely low contact, not that he was trying to. Jos would never admit it, but he was embarrassed at how you spoke to him, and his retreat allowed him to ignore it. Instead, you and Max enjoyed your time together in Japan. The both of you were aware Jos was there, but chose to ignore it. After Max won, Jos warily approached the two of you.

"I wanted to congratulate you on winning. You drove well," Jos says stiffly, silently calling for a truce. You let Max take the lead on the conversation.

"Thank you," he says, feeling like a little boy again, but accepting the temporary truce.

"It was good seeing you Jos, but we need to go," you interject, sensing the still tense atmosphere. The older man, still a little scared of you despite your sweet demeanor, lets you go, not quite willing to cross you again.

"Love you, Maxie"

"Love you too, Schatje,"

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen #i hate jos verstappen

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honey-flustered · 2 months

Text

Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)

MDNI +18 Only!!

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader

Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)

A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.

CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants

You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.

“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.

“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”

You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.

“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.

“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”

“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”

“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.

“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”

“I’m in!” Essie beams.

“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.

“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”

“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”

You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”

——————

The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.

With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”

“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”

“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.

“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”

Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”

Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”

“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”

“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.

“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.

“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.

“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.

“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.

You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.

Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.

A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.

“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”

You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.

“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”

“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.

You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.

Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.

“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”

He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”

“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.

“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.

————-

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.

“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.

“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”

“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to

Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.

“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.

“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”

“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.

“Exactly.” Your father confirms.

You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”

You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”

You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.

————

Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.

Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.

“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”

“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”

“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.

“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”

“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”

“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.�� You retort.

“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”

—————

Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.

“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”

Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!

“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”

He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”

You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.

He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.

“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”

“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.

“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.

“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”

You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.

“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

——————

You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.

“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”

“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”

“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.

“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.

“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”

“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.

“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”

“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.

He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.

But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.

————

The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.

Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.

“Wilbur. His name’s—”

“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”

The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.

It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.

Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.

You raise the paper to your eyes and read:

If I Were A Hobbit

If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free

I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees

With furry feet and a merry heart

From adventure’s call, I’d never depart

With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.

In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme

I’d wander the fields beneath the sun

I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun

If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid

But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid

You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.

“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”

You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”

“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”

“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”

He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”

“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.

“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.

“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.

You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.

“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”

“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”

He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.

It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.

“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.

“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”

Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.

His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.

You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.

He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.

Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.

————————-

Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.

You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”

“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”

“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”

“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.

“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”

“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”

“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.

You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”

“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”

“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.

Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.

You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.

He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.

Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?

You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.

“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”

You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.

“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.

“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”

“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”

He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”

—————

You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.

“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.

“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”

“You know D’N’D?”

“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.

“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”

“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”

“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.

“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”

“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”

“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”

“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”

He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.

“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”

“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.

“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.

“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”

Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.

“What do you want?”

You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“

“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.

“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.

“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”

“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.

“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.

“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”

“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”

“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”

“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”

“I could. Considering I am one.”

“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”

“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.

“We’re friends?”

“Us, geeks, stick together?”

“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”

He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”

“And what about my car?”

“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.

If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.

————

Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.

“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.

Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.

You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”

“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”

“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”

“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”

“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.

“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”

“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”

“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.

Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.

Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.

“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.

“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”

“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”

“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.

“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.

“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.

“Payback’s a bitch, love.”

—————

“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.

“Tana!”

“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.

“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”

“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”

“I’m not!” You insist.

“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”

“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.

“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”

“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”

“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.

An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.

You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.

“What the hell is this?” You sneer.

“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.

“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.

“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.

“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.

“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.

Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”

With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.

“If I could just explain...” You begin.

“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”

You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.

“I was just having fun.”

“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”

“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.

Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”

You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”

Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.

“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”

Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.

————-

You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.

A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.

“What do you want, twerp?” You say.

“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.

“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”

“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”

“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.

“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.

————

The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.

The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.

However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.

His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”

He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”

“Understand?” You ask.

“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”

“Accept?”

“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.

“You don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.

“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”

“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”

“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.

For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.

“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”

You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”

“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.

You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”

Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”

“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”

“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.

“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”

“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”

“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”

“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.

He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”

“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”

“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”

“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”

“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”

“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”

“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.

“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”

He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.

“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”

“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.

He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.

Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fullg by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.

The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.

“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.

“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.

And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.

He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.

Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”

And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.

686 notes · View notes

doobea · 18 days

Text

SPITTIN' OUT LIKE LISTERINE ─ RIN I.

synopsis: sae is great at a lot of things, his brother... not so much. when sae calls you up to tutor rin for his upcoming exams the first thought should've been 'yeah, sounds like easy money' rather than 'why does it look like he wants to kill me right now'.

MILESTONE EVENT || MILESTONE MASTERLIST

contents: gn!reader, reader is two grades above rin, college AU setting, forced proximity, best friend's brother, rin is a lil emotionally constipated but its alright bc we love him, sae is a physics major in this idk why word count: 10.9k (haha... why do i do this) a/n: hi hi umm idk if i know how to write tbh its been quite some time,,, but im slowly finding myself getting back into the groove and umm yeah it'll still take some time!! anyways, thank you for beta'ing @popponn and of course this fic is dedicated to you too my sweet <3

You meet Itoshi Rin at a coffee shop, of all places.

The kind of shop that you often see campus influencers hanging around. Hole in the wall. Dangling fairy lights paired with a few overgrown rose bushes in the front. A bit old-schooled, wooden counter tops, with well loved espresso machines. It’s not a big cafe, just enough to hold a few couches, a singular bookshelf packed with all sorts of board games, and low rise tables with way too many heat stains.

At the start of the year, it started out as a quiet job. Never too overwhelming and had just enough downtime for you to finish up assignments in between breaks. Recently, due to a couple of self-proclaimed foodies on campus, business has blown up ten-fold. So, instead of catching up on your latest lectures, you’re stuck brewing teenage girls their overpriced lattes that are just mostly multiple pumps of flavored syrup and copious amounts of whipped cream. It’s rough but manageable to say the least, judging from the tips.

You’re currently on scholarship, top of your classes and major, but you’re also living on your own so rent’s gotta get paid one way or another. Whether it be working part-time as a teaching assistant, a barista, or both.

On this particular day, you’re just about done closing up shop. The last hour had you rushing back and forth, fulfilling a last minute order from a Karen that swore up and down that she placed a mobile app order for ten frappuccinos twenty minutes prior. It’s been a long day, but the evening has finally calmed down. You’re scrubbing down the counter, putting all the remaining elbow grease you have into this one particular syrup spill earlier that you didn’t realize that someone had walked in until they started clearing their throat.

You barely look up, having the stain just almost disappear from the counter, but the information you register is enough to know that it’s a guy, and he’s by himself.

And, okay, in a normal setting you would probably be smart enough to realize that a guy wearing a black cap, oversized hoodie, and a large gym bag at nearly nine o’clock at night is anything but suspicious. You, however, worked a long day. Your eyes are strained from operating the bright tablet menu. Your hair is a frenzied mess. There’s tea stains all over your apron. You get the gist.

So you don’t really notice at all, except that this guy is idling in front of the counter, looking over at the menu with equally strained eyes as you. That’s not unusual. You’ve learned when to be helpful and when to give someone their time and space. It’s slow now, not like it’s common for more customers to show up this late anyway.

After a moment, the customer clears his throat again. You turn around, fixing your apron, and work up a friendly smile and a quick “ready to order?” when it dawns upon you that this guy is breathtakingly gorgeous. So much so that if you could take over the rights of the Oxford Dictionary, you would attach this guy’s face underneath the word gorgeous and emo.

Dark wispy bangs, striking teal eyes, long mesmerizing lashes, and lips that naturally fall into a small frown giving him the ultimate resting bitch face. They’re also very kissable lips, and you hate yourself for jumping to that thought so fast. It’s not usual for you to hit on customers, let alone just anyone, and it’s probably safe to say that anyone as handsome as The Duke of the North (because you’ve also been reading too many romance comics on the side and this stranger definitely fits this role) probably has a partner of his own.

“Hey,” The Duke of the North looks awkwardly pained, as if he hates starting a conversation. His eyes drift down to your name tag that’s proudly displayed on your apron, littered with all sorts of stickers and pins. “I—um, what do you recommend?”

Working in food service made you absolutely hate this question with a burning passion. Everyone’s taste is subjective. You get this question all the damn time, and you have to put on your best customer service act, all preppy and bubbly. It’s not like you hate helping customers, you do. But, when they don’t give you anything to work with, it becomes your fault if the drink is bad.

Though, for obvious reasons, you don’t mind extending the conversation with The Duke of the North. Just by glance alone, you can tell he’s a bit of a health nut from the lean physique and the hefty gym bag that’s tossed around his shoulders. Looks scary and a little daunting, but you have an inkling feeling he’s more of a traditional type of guy.

“If you want popular suggestions then I’d rec our brown sugar boba for beginners or, if you want something less sweet, I always prefer our in house rose oolong milk tea.” You answer, good-naturedly.

The Duke of the North seems to be in deep pondering. The look on his face makes you feel a little uneasy, like maybe he’s missing something, but eventually he settles with the latter. “Rose oolong,” He says thoughtfully, almost unfamiliar with the term. “I’ll have that then.”

“It’s one of our signature drinks,” you ring in his order with a smile, “tends to be popular with a lot of the older women.” There’s tease laced in the tone, but you mean no harm. Maybe just a tiny amount for him coming in before closing.

And, after collecting the cash payment, you can tell that he’s struggling with the awkwardness hanging in the air. You assume he’s not used to jokes, or even hanging around others willingly for that fact. There was another comment you wanted to ask, more so his background and if he goes to the same university, but it quickly vanishes when the guy scurries to the furthest corner of the shop.

Okay, that’s fine too. Not everyone is suited for small talk.

You get the feeling that this guy wants to avoid people and maybe he’s also had one hell of a day. You’ve learned pretty early on as a barista to never ask anyone about their problems, only because you’ll accidentally sign up to become their therapist without meaning to.

You decide to brew up a warm batch of rose oolong tea, despite the fact he never specified if he wanted it hot or iced - he looks like the type of guy to always order a warm drink, even on a summer day. And, being the lovely barista you are, you decide to give him a large for the hell of it. This will go down as your one positive action for today, hoping that the good luck will carry over for tomorrow’s rough schedule.

“Hope you like it,” you present him with the tea and watch him as he swirls the drink around. He doesn’t look upset that it’s warm, so you take that as a good sign. “Feel free to hang back a little, I still have to clean up a couple of things in the back.”

“Sure, thanks,” he nods, and the words sound genuine. Without missing a beat, he retreats back in the corner and pulls out a laptop, notebook, and somehow manages to balance the drink on the cushion next to him. Yeah, definitely a fellow student working overtime like you.

True to your word, you go back to your boring list of chores to do; tons of equipment to be sanitized, chalkboard to be erased and be replaced by tomorrow’s daily specials, counting the register, taking out all the trash… maybe it’s not too late to find a less taxing job.

If you weren’t so tunnel visioned in your deep cleaning, maybe you would’ve noticed The Duke of the North spilling some of the tea on himself, asking if you had some extra tissues he could borrow, but only growing self-cautious when he realized that your earbuds are shoved in. And maybe you’d notice him cleaning up the spill with his own clothes from the gym bag, dabbing the spot furiously and making sure it looked like the same state prior.

You’re almost done with your long list of closing chores when The Duke of the North returns with an empty cup. “Thanks, again. ‘S was good,” he awkwardly offers up.

“Glad to hear,” you flush a little, because your uniform is a mess, and you clearly look the part still. Nothing is more embarrassing than a cute guy staring down at you while you’re sweaty, tired, and have soap suds all over your apron.

There’s a bit of a silence, and then he says, even more awkwardly, “I’ll, uh, see you around. Good night.”

“Sure,” you reply in a quiet voice, in a tone that’s taken on a dreamy sort of quality. “Night.”

You let out a ragged sigh by the time he was out of sight, praying to see him again in better circumstances. By the time you’re locking the front door, you’re half debating to FaceTime your best friend about the random encounter. Somehow, Sae tends to know just about everyone on campus, even if his friend group only extends out to you. Though, noting that it’s nearly midnight and you should really catch the last bus of the day, you quickly toss that thought out the window and save the energy for tomorrow’s session.

“Mind tutoring my brother for me?” Sae asks out of the blue the next day.

You flail a little, shooting him an exasperated look over your shoulder as your fingers stop in mid hover over the keys of your laptop. An hour and a half into the TA grading session and somehow things feel slightly more off than yesterday night.

There’s only one single thought running through your mind as you stare at Sae, best friend of nearly two years, “You have a brother?!”

A swarm of “shh” and “quiet down” soon blows in your direction in the library. You’re quickly met with glares from other senior students from nearby tables and study rooms as you mumble back flurries of “sorry” while Sae only rolls his eyes.

It’s nearing midterms, everyone and their mothers are camped on every floor and crevice of the building, thus making gossiping quite impossible and frowned upon. So you stare in disbelief at your friend on the wild fact that he potentially has a brother and didn’t bother telling you until now.

Sae blinks, “…Yeah? That’s shocking news to you?”

You laugh a little sheepishly, “You’ve never mentioned having one, let alone anything familial.” Then again, this is Sae. Talk about emotionally guarded.

“You’ve never asked,” Sae huffs before setting down a stack of graded papers. At the top, you see an unfortunate student’s work marred in everything red from Sae’s corrections. He’s always been a tough grader and, for any poor soul who has to take physics, chances of them retaking are high when he’s TAing.

“No offense, but you’ve always given me only child vibes,” you say, lamely, not hiding the fact you’re mildly annoyed. Seriously, this guy knows just about everything about your personal life and now you’re just finding out about his?

“All offense taken,” he replies dryly.

You scoot closer and whisper, “So, who’s the unlucky guy?”

Sae heaves, ignoring your comment, and continues, “Rin. He’s been focusing too much on sports lately to care about his midterms. He knows about the arrangement. I would offer to tutor him but… we don’t have the best sibling relationship.”

And, Sae being Sae, this doesn’t really surprise you. “See? The only child vibe checks out.”

“Anyways,” Sae rolls his eyes for the nth time and tosses you a half folded sticky note with the name and contact info of his presumed brother. “He gets his shitty attitude from me, so try not to get too upset if he doesn’t seem talkative.”

“I haven’t even given my answer to—”

“Just how often do I ask for your help?”

“Like never,” your reply is instant and Sae only raises his brows in confirmation. You take that as a sign of he’ll somehow return the favor. It’s a rare opportunity, perhaps even once in a blue moon, but there is just one thing that you’re wondering about—

“Don’t worry about the money, you’re going to be covered,” Sae reassures as he throws another thick stack of exams on top of the finished pile. “He’s a fast learner when he wants to be, just not as of recently since he’s started the semester.”

“I take it he’s a grade below?”

“About two years younger, in honors.”

You laugh, pulling away and readjusting your attention back to your laptop screen. “Seems smarter than you, I like him already.”

It’s a terrible day, because you’re awake before your alarm. Hell, you’re awake before sunrise.

It’s absolutely nonsense and your boss knows to stop giving you these opening and closing shifts back to back, but apparently nobody else had been available to open.

“You’re competent,” your boss had said over the phone last night. “I trust you more than our own managers, so you should at least feel proud about that.”

Should you?

Of course, you don’t fall for his stupid flattery, not when your alarm is finally blasting in your ear at five in the morning. Normally, you at least try to make yourself look half-presentable but, working on approximately four hours of sleep, the best you could do for yourself is throw on a sweater and jeans before heading out the door.

As a whole, you really do like your job and usually get the later shift but the recent manager got fired for stealing cash from the register, and your other co-worker called off for the next few weeks due to a family emergency, so now your life is a living hell — at least until they return. And, let’s not forget to mention that somehow you’re also stuck with tutoring your classmate’s younger brother because somehow he couldn’t have done it himself. Also a so-called “family emergency”.

The only thing you appreciate is at least it’s warm inside the cafe once you’ve turned on the lights and tossed your bookbag in the back room. The store might be short-staffed today, but mornings are always slow, which only means you can at least get paid by watching some YouTube videos while finishing setting the place up.

You barely get through setting up the pastries when there’s a knock on the door. Dear god. It’s barely seven, you’ve been here for exactly fifty minutes, and already you’re debating smashing your face against the coffee machine to put yourself out of this misery. If it’s a customer, you swear you’re going to kill someone.

As you glare intently at the window, in the early morning, pre-dawn glow, you can make out a tall guy, dressed in athleisure, peering through the glass. You’re about to grumble out loud about entitled customers showing up before opening hours but the door knob suddenly turns, all because you were too tired earlier to lock it, so now you have to put on your dumb customer service voice.

The bell chimes loudly as the guy walks in. The lighting in the coffee shop is low, with that quiet, comfortable ambience of soft piano background music playing through the speakers. Your eyes are still half-awake too, blurry around the edges with sleep. But that face, no one could possibly forget that.

“You’re back,” you say this in awe, offering up your best smile, even though it’s lopsided and droopy. The annoyance ebbs away slowly as the man approaches the counter.

The Duke of the North scratches his cheek, and looks around the cafe a bit more, realizing that he’s quite literally the only one here. “...Am I early?”

“Kinda, we open in thirty minutes,” you shrug. It’s not an accusatory thing, because at least this time he has the manners to come in before it’s open rather than before closing. That’s something you can work with. You were irritated earlier but now you’re suppressing a giggle. “Did you like the drink that much?”

Before he could answer, he tips his baseball cap and grips his bookbag before settling down on the nearest couch by the counter. Wondering if the comment had came out as off putting, you’re about to throw on a free pastry when—

“My brother recommended this cafe. Needed a quiet place to get some work done,” he explains with a slight pause, and continues, “The drink you made was good,” he says quietly and starts unpacking. For whatever reason, that puts a dumb cheesy grin on your face. You’re thankful he’s too occupied to catch that.

“Well, you’re welcome to stop by anytime. Just, you know, within actual store hours.” You laugh when you see the tips of his ear flushing a light shade of red.

“I suppose you’re right,” and you don’t have to look at him to hear the tiny smile in his voice.

“Did you want me to make you anything?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing at the moment. Thank you.”

You two are quiet again for a long time. He’s minding your space while you’re trying to finish your opening duties. When you’re finally done fiddling with the coffee bean grinder, you twirl around, mind racing and checking off your internal checklist with the next task being to actually open the shop. Though, as you turn, The Duke of the North is already by the front door, flipping the sign over to OPEN.

Can this guy get any more charming?

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” except that you totally loved the fact that he did just that. Maybe a concerning amount.

“I was getting up anyways,” he reasons simply with a shrug. Somehow he slightly reminds you of a certain someone, but you ignore the nagging voice inside your head.

“Well, keep that up and we might just hire you,” you tease.

The Duke of the North strolls up to the counter, presenting a credit card in his hand, and looks over the menu behind you. You give him space, but you absolutely try to make out the name on the card. You probably shouldn’t refer to him as The Duke of the North any longer than you should. Then again, if the shoe fits, why change?

Suddenly, the front door bell rings and the sight of maroon catches your attention.

“Sae?”

“You’re here awfully early,” Sae comments, nonchalantly.

You sigh, rubbing a hand to your temple. “Got moved to first shift, unfortunately.”

“Wasn’t talking to you, I was talking to him,” he nods towards The Duke of the North.

Blinking hastily, you choke out, “Wait, you two know each other?”

“Are you that blind?” Sae deadpans and stands next to the taller male, who looks mildly taken back, like somehow he doesn’t want to be here anymore. “This is Rin. The guy I was talking about yesterday. My brother.”

To say that you’re shocked might be an understatement. The correct emotion might’ve been appalled, or even dread? You’re not sure. But you weren’t expecting the meeting to be as unnerved as it was. Rin doesn’t even allow Sae to finish explaining, just ends up walking out with the promise of showing up to the shop at the end of your shift. You remember catching Sae’s irritated expression which, in itself, is extremely rare. It placed a strained smile on your face.

Back at your apartment, you’re currently trying to balance this tutoring session by turning it into a personal study time too. Though, you keep the sight of Rin in your peripheral as you complete your assignments in bed. It didn’t take you too long to look through his current curriculum and throw together a few practice and multiple choice questions for a quick knowledge assessment. He seemed pretty adamant about knowing everything, but Sae has his doubts.

Rin keeps looking over at his quiz, your digital clock, and the floor — all in that order. You don’t want to distract him anymore than he already is, though you can’t help but to spare a glance of what he has done so far.

The multiple choice questions have been filled out, with a couple of eraser bits on the side, but the short answers have hardly been touched. A lofty attempt has been made to the first short answer, where Rin drew a small circuit diagram to determine the internal resistance of a battery, but it kinda just stops at that. Any answers he has written for the problem set are mostly brief notions of what’s already stated in the prompt.

Rin currently has his fingers knotted in his hair, pencil tapping against the table and, underneath the desk, he’s bouncing his leg like mad.He tries to look indifferent on a surface level, but you can easily see the vein popping out on his neck.

By the time you’ve finished grading, Rin barely scrapes by with a C-. And, while some students would be ecstatic with that, it’s surely not enough to raise his current grade to a passing one.

Sae mentioned that Rin’s a fast learner when he wants to be and he never said tutoring would be an easy job. No worries, it’s not the first time you had to mentor a student before. What you’re more worried about is how Rin had been so sure that he knew what he was doing… when he obviously doesn’t.

You hand back the paper with the corrected answers in red ink. You even drew a tiny smiley face by his name to give him some sort of comfort, but Rin just makes a disgruntled noise and looks mildly disgusted.

“I don’t need your sympathy.”

You certainly didn’t expect him to snap at you. Rin visibly tenses and blood rushes to your ears.

Your lips part, finding the right words, as he redirects his attention to your bedroom window and stretches his jaw. Then, after an agonizing long pause, he tips his head back, slouches down in the chair, and sighs in defeat.

“Sorry,” his voice cracks a little and he leans down, resting his forehead on the edge of the table.

You pinch your lips together, eyebrows raised. He looks frustrated, but you can tell it’s not aimed at you. “Let’s… take a fifteen minute break, how does that sound?”

“I think I should go.” He’s a little breathless, possibly uncomfortable under the weight of your stare.

“I’m not delicate, Itoshi,” you say, slowly. You’ve dealt with a fair share of angst-ridden undergrads flustering over their assignments. Rin is no different, and you’re not the type to easily give up after a mini meltdown. It’s all about having the right approach, if you send him home now then the next session would just start off even more strained. “Stay for a while longer, we’ll go over everything one by one.”

“It’s fine.”

You sigh, lips curling ever so slightly. “Itoshi, has anyone told you that you’re a terrible liar?”

From the look on his face, it seemed like the world had slipped out from under his feet. You soon realize that Rin almost reminds you of a raging teen, when he’s like this. He’s fiercely independent, that’s for sure. The type that doesn’t like to make others worry but it ends up backfiring in the end. How he’s managed to get through with life is way beyond your comprehension, but you have a feeling that it has something to do with Sae.

“I… I don’t talk about stuff like this,” he admits and chews down on his lip - it seems like a nervous tick, a bad habit.

“I can tell,” a chuckle bubbles from you but you pause when you catch his glare. You start clearing your throat awkwardly, “I—um, I don’t talk about my feelings often either. I don’t think many people do. We’re all trying to figure things out as we go.”

“Have you figured it out yet?” Rin seems to surprise himself with that question.

Maybe for him, you look like you’ve got all your shit together. As if you’ve figured out all the great secrets in life. And maybe, you think, he just wants reassurance that he’s not alone, struggling, to find purpose. Or perhaps Rin wants you to offer up some adult advice, something only seniors would know.

Your eyes widen for a moment. Rin furrows his brows tightly together and stares at you for answers. You both know well enough that you don’t have a solution, but he looks at you anyway. All you offer him back is a warm, big smile.

“Itoshi, I’m two years older than you. I’ve had a little more years to figure it out,” you begin slowly, “I’ve had my ups and downs, almost flunked out a few courses when I was starting out, too. I didn’t just magically have it all come together.”

He appears doubtful, almost hard to believe. Rin looks like he’s about to protest but one look and he soon realizes that you’re pushing some truth there. You can tell that he’s struggling, mind working in overtime to try and process all of his internal conflicts — only because you’ve gone through the same.

“Honestly,” you continue, after a long moment of silence, and lean to the side, giving Rin’s shoulder a little nudge, “It’s not my business to dig around your psyche, but just know that you’re welcome to tell me anything. Physics related or not.”

Rin doesn’t say a word, but you take his silence as a contentment.

“So, uh,” you start to get up from the bed and pace towards the kitchen area, “I have some sliced fruit in the fridge, if you want some. Can’t solve these problems on an empty stomach.”

You two spend the rest of the night assessing the problems he got stuck on and going over shorthand tricks to easily remember what formulas to use. To your surprise, Rin stays mostly quiet and attentive this time around. He doesn’t stare at the worksheet in irritation anymore, and asks questions when he finds himself stuck on a problem. At the end, he manages a passing B on the new practice assessment. And, of course, while downing a bowl of freshly sliced honeydew.

It’s almost midnight by the time he starts heading out. You’re certain that this is going to kick you in the ass tomorrow morning, because you somehow forgot that you have an 8:00 AM class. It’s fine, you think, at least the atmosphere feels a lot lighter than when you guys first started, so you consider that as a plus.

As Rin begins to put on his shoes, you try to lean against the bedroom door casually and nearly fall over. Looking unimpressed, Rin looks up at you.

“Hm?”

“Do you dislike me?”

“You’d already be dead if I hated you,” Rin says this with a certain level of confidence that makes you both shiver and relax at the same time. You’re positive that he isn’t a serial killer but, then again, you don’t know if Sae is the only source of all that pent up angst.

When his hand rests on the front door knob, Rin suddenly looks back, eyebrows knitted together, and you can’t tell what his expression translates into. Nevertheless, it makes your breath catch in your throat, and you swallow hard.

“Yes, Itoshi?”

”You… your room is messy,” Rin eventually comments, very unnecessarily, which causes you to release a heavy sigh, sticking a disapproving tongue out.

“Wow, you really do get that shitty attitude from him!”

Rin just snorts, hands in his pockets, and you think this is the first time he’s ever really laughed. It throws you off and, before you get a proper chance to recover, he’s out the door.

“You’re surprisingly getting the hang of this, Itoshi” you’re glossing over the practice quiz he had today, feeling a surge of pride knowing that Rin was able to handle it just fine. He ended up receiving a B minus, which is nearly a grade higher from his past averages. Guess a heated vent session is the answer to most problems.

“I’ve cleared my head,” he shrugs nonchalantly, as if it’s the easiest thing to do in the world.

Outside, a storm rages and rattles the windows every time thunder roars. Typhoon season is nearing as the weather starts to get warmer, which ultimately means your evening shifts are cut early to avoid flood risks and violent winds. It’s been about two weeks since the first tutoring session and there’s been a slow progression in your relationship.

Having Rin over almost feels weirdly second nature, despite the short amount of time. You try to meet at least three times a week, two of those times happen right after your shift. The thing you miss the most about being a sophomore is the amount of free time you had. Rin’s classes practically finish before three every day and arrive at the coffee shop right after football practice everyday. Majority of the time, it would just be exchanging shorthand greetings but, whenever the evening rush dies down, you try to strike a quick check-in. Afterwards, the two of you would make the trip back to your apartment to continue the session.

Which leads to this current situation.

About an hour into the session you suggested a well needed break, for you at least. You’re laying down in your bed, playing a mobile game on full volume, while Rin is disciplined enough to still scroll over his previous lecture slides at your desk. You’re not sure if this is what he does to “relax”, or if he’s just simply not grown comfortable around you just yet. Either way, it’s hard to believe that you’re being out mentored.

“You know you can chill, right?”

“I know.” You hear muffled sounds of a lecture recording from his laptop.

“Well, I don’t hear you chilling.”

“I don’t need to be.”

Okay, yeah, you’re starting to see the family resemblance here. But it’s going to take a lot more than that to stop you. How else have you survived as Sae’s best friend for two years?

“Don’t you have any fun weekend plans?”

Rin shakes his head, eyes never leaving his screen. “Maybe not fun by your definitions.”

Your ears perk at this and you subtly lower the volume of the game. Maybe this is a sign to get to know his likes and dislikes, and whether or not he has a significant other — because that’s all important information. At least, that’s what you convince yourself. If Rin just so happens to be in a relationship, then you’ll easily set aside that growing curiosity. If he’s not, then a little harmless flirting won’t harm anyone, right?

“Itoshi,” you sit up from the bed with more purpose than before, Rin seems to catch on and visibly grimaces. “Tell me, I wanna know.”

“We should probably go back to studying,” he sighs.

You hop to your feet, sauntering to the desk and shutting his laptop with ease. Ohm’s Law can wait just a little while longer. “You’ve been at it nonstop since we’ve arrived here. It’s not good to cram everything in that big head of yours, that’s how people burn out faster. C’mon, a ten minute break won’t kill you.”

Rin doesn’t bother to argue against you, he’s been over well enough to pick up that you won’t let him become a complete workaholic.

“Fine,” he gets up and makes his way over to sit on the edge of your bed, because if he doesn't then you’ll eventually force him to sit elsewhere. Something about separating work and personal spaces to improve learning.

You plop down a few inches away with a winning smile, “So, what are your plans?”

“Football practice—”

“Something other than what I already know.”

He exhales loudly. “Catching up on coursework at the cafe, probably.”

This takes you by surprise, only because you work this upcoming weekend. “Really? Well, guess we’ll see each other then.” Maybe tenacity is just rooted deeply in the family’s genes.

“It’s a nice place,” he reasons, sneaking a glance at you.

You begin squirming, trying to turn from Rin without looking like a complete idiot. Then, slowly, “...What do you like about it?”

And, of course, the words barely escape your lips when the whole building seems to creak and groan under the effort of the storm. The power flicks suddenly around the room, and then it’s complete, utter darkness.

You don’t feel Rin’s presence next to you until a sudden gust of air hits your ear. You flinch and clap a hand over your ear while Rin mumbles out a quick apology and stumbles to establish his own personal space on the bed.

It starts to rain heavier now, water slapping hard against the window panels in big, ugly raindrops. You should probably get up and find a flashlight or any lighting of some sort, something to make the situation less awkward, but your body feels like a rock. You don’t want to move but, at the same time, your mind is telling you to run far, far away from Rin.

Heart throbbing against your chest, you gather up the courage to look at Rin’s face with the help of the dim lighting from the window sill. His eyes are half-lidded, seemingly glazed over in deep thought. He doesn’t say a single word, and every moment of his silence stirs the growing anxiousness inside. You swallow, suddenly aware that he’s beginning to unravel your sanity just by being there besides you.

“Are you, um, are you okay with thunderstorms?” you adjust your position with shaky limbs, trying your best to not cross his physical boundaries.

Rin fidgets in response, but you can tell he’s also trying to keep his cool. “I’m fine with them. I just wasn’t expecting the power to suddenly…”

“Yeah, my apartment sucks,” you groan, inwardly. “This doesn’t happen all the time, I swear.” A flash of lightning illuminates the room, you squint against the light. “Maintenance won’t be on site ‘till tomorrow morning. I doubt you want to stay so we’ll have to cut the session short for today.”

You feel the mattress dip a little. The two of you fall silent, and there’s a weird awkward tension hanging in the room, one where it leaves you both red and flushing. Your mind is racing, and there’s a million questions. He hasn’t made any moves of getting up, nor has he said anything about leaving. It’s a bit uncharacteristic for Rin to be unsure in a given situation like this, or is he just being polite? This feels different from your first meeting, it’s still unpredictable, still a confusing mess.

“Or we could talk!” you quickly add on. “I…uh, if you want to talk, that is.”

After a few more moments of that awkward, creeping silence permeating the room, Rin sighs. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to talk about,” he whispers and looks up, his face looking worn out.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Silence is also okay.”

“I like silence,” he confesses.

“We can just sit here then,” you agree, “silence in itself can be therapeutic, too.”

You don’t necessarily agree with yourself. If it’s not for work at the cafe, you spend a good deal of your time in silence. Studying, grading students’ papers, thinking about your family back home, and preparing for life after graduation. It all gets overwhelming when you sit and process everything in your mind. Even so, the silence that falls between you and your best friend’s brother feels comfortable, in spite of the initial close proximity. You find yourself leaning back into the bed frame’s headboard, curling up sideways.

About ten minutes in, Rin cracks.

“When I was a kid, I used to be afraid of storms. Sae used to make dumb blanket forts with me. It’s silly, but…”

And, despite it being dark, you shoot him a knowing look. For a moment, Rin looks like he regrets even opening his mouth, like he’s about to blurt out a quick ‘nevermind’, but you don’t give him a chance.

“I’m listening, you don’t have to stop.” Unknowingly, you give his shoulders a little nudge of encouragement. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Rin thinks it over, and he only has to for a moment. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

He talks for a while, until he runs out of things to say. Or, rather, he runs out of energy to say anything. His thought process is a jumbled mess of how his relationship with Sae developed. Being the younger sibling, it’s natural for Rin to look up to his brother, to want to gain acknowledgement and become some sort of a mirror image. The thought of Sae looking after Rin while both of their parents were working overtime to provide for their education is also something you could heavily relate to. Around some point down the line, Sae began to distance himself from Rin without any apparent reasoning, at least in his eyes. Towards the end, it becomes a rambling about nothing, too, and you’re positive that Rin hasn’t even gotten into the meat of the issue.

Rin appears mildly exhausted, flustered, and a little embarrassed by the time he’s done. He turns to you, eyes narrowed, “Don’t say that you feel sorry for me, I’ve heard it about a dozen times already. It gets old.”

You shake your head, processing everything. You can tell he has so much more he wants to get off of his chest, so many things he wants to unload, things that he hasn’t even realized that’s been weighing him down.

“I wasn’t gonna say that,” and he stays still, studying your next words with high concentration. “Sae and I have been close for quite a while, and I totally get how he’s an ass—to you and just about everyone else. He’s abrasive and straight to the point with a lot of things. Also pretty sure he’s allergic to communication. Hell, I’m not entirely sure how I was able to get close to him in the first place,” you flare a deep breath out of your nose and rhythmically tap your fingers along your thighs. “But I know he has a weird way of caring for others, too.”

“How so?” Rin doesn’t sound annoyed, just confused. Almost hopeful, even.

“Well, he’s signed you up for tutoring, which might actually not be a good example of care but, um… He normally hates asking people for favors. This is just an unconventional way of saying that he’s making sure you’re doing okay.”

“Could’ve said it himself.”

“Yeah, well, you came to the cafe because he told you, right?”

With that, he quickly shuts his mouth, forming it into a subtle pout. Is he embarrassed that you’re right?

Another flash of lightning comes by, followed by low rumbling thunder. Then, an idea brews.

“This is gonna sound a bit crazy but… do you wanna build a fort?”

Rin snorts. “What’s with that?”

“Well, it doesn't seem like you’re in a rush to leave. Then again, maybe a taxi service would be expensive right now…”

He offers up little resistance to your suggestion and ends up dragging a couple of chairs into your living room from the kitchen. You dig around in your closet and pull out a heavy winter blanket, the ones with a giant tiger imprinted on the front. It’s been stored away for quite some time, leaving bits of dust and other mysterious remnants in the air as you straighten the fabric out. Hopefully Rin’s not sensitive to dust mites.

One side of the blanket is stretched around the edge of the couch and tucked beneath the cushions. Another corner is wrapped and fastened clumsily around a chair. It hangs over the edge of the coffee table and is held in place by the second chair in the corresponding corner. The overall impression is ridiculous, but there's a decent space on the floor in front of the sofa.

“That’s a bit better,” you decide, with a faint laugh.

You’re pressed close to one another, and you have to admit that it’s intimate in a way that you didn’t expect. The air is a little warm, heavy with their breath and the faint heat from the candles. It’s… nice. Outside, the wind is howling, but it is fainter, partially obscured by the blanket barrier that keeps the outside world away.

You decide to stream a horror movie to pass the time, until the weather subsides a bit. You’ll probably go over your data plan for the month, but right now, you don’t really care. You prop the phone up against one of Rin’s textbooks that he didn’t get the chance to go over today, and end up watching a really shitty slasher movie from the 80’s.

At some point, you doze off, leaning in and head tipping to tentatively rest on his shoulder. It’s not the most comfortable position. You’re both slouched back against the couch, pillow wedged under your backs. Your phone eventually runs dead, and the candles burn into nothing—smoldering and smoking as they sputter out.

“Hey,” Rin faintly calls out your name. “It’s getting late.”

You stir in your sleep, finding the strength to open your eyes and tilt your head up. You’re sure that your heart is going to stop beating when he takes notice. The look on your face must’ve been a good one, because now Rin’s six shades of red deeper and he’s got his hand over his mouth.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, Itoshi!”

“It’s… okay,” his voice is low, sounding almost uncertain. “Rin is also fine.”

You fail to notice his fingers making their way past your forearm, past your neck, until you feel them settle on your warm cheek. Shivers course through your body, and the resulting sounds you release is halfway between a sigh and a whimper. His eyes are half-lidded, glazed, and you’re positive yours are no different.

“Sorry, Rin…” you’re apologizing again, his name sounds foreign on your tongue but feels like home all at the same time. Your voice begins to trail off. You can’t finish, your eyes are already closed, head tilted. As you breathe, with your heart rattling in your throat, you feel Rin lean in close.

As soon as you collide into him, his lips meld against yours.

It’s funny how life works. Some days seem to drag, impossibly slow, especially when you’re trapped in your own mind — replaying everything, obsessing over every single action you’ve done wrong in your life. There are days where you barely get out of bed until it’s time for classes or to get ready for work, where you just go through the motions.

Other days, they fly by in the blink of an eye. Sometimes it’s because you hole yourself up at the library, nose glued to your textbooks, and body running on adrenaline. Other times, it’s because you keep replaying that kiss you gave Rin, wondering what it means, or if it just means nothing at all. You remember being roped in by the shy, tentative edge in his voice that reminded you when you first met him at the shop, where you first had been infatuated.

Rin hasn’t spoken to you since that night at your apartment. On one hand, while you’re worried that you might’ve said something out of line, and maybe that kiss came off too strong. Which, of course it fucking came off too strong. You kissed your best friend’s brother, and that just spells disaster on its own. Although, on the other hand, you’re glad that you guys are on a first name basis.

That’s fine. Rin seems to be going through a lot and the best professional way to handle this situation is to be… professional. Everything is all too much, and you've decided that you need to take a break.

That night, you’ve made a quick trip home after work to stay at your family’s. You don’t have time to mull over a certain junior of yours, not when you have your own things to take care of.

Your parents’ are currently on their anniversary date, leaving behind your two younger siblings all by themselves. You think two eight year olds could handle themselves just fine for a few hours but, then again, kids these days are just built differently.

You ended up ordering takeout and made them sit through a painstakingly long foreign film. Subtitles always put kids to sleep faster, you’ve learned. After carrying them to bed, you decide to spend the rest of your night sitting outside on the patio and wait for the return of your parents.

The skies are always clearer in the suburbs compared to the bustling city lights that pollute everywhere else. You sit down on a small plastic chair, one belonging to your siblings, and spend a good few minutes appreciating the twinkling stars and the raw smell of the countryside. You fix your gaze out in the distance, at the same hills and mountains the sprawling city overlooks.

Feeling inspired, you fish out your phone and decide to send Sae a quick picture of the surroundings with the caption ‘miss you loser :P’. It’s a small mini-game that you two started a year back, sending each other photos whenever away from campus, even though it’s mainly you sending the photos and he sends back middle finger emojis.

Though, as soon as you hit the send button, dread immediately fills your gut.

“Wait, shit, shit—wrong brother!”

Your heart hammers against your chest as you stare at the now seemingly flirty caption and, dear lord, your reputation might as well be down the gutters. This will go down as probably the most embarrassing moments of your life, and what makes things even worse is that you know Rin has seen it because three gray dots are now jumping up and down in the chat log.

God, what are you even supposed to say to that?

[Sae’s Brother!!!]: I’m sorry?

When you receive the responding text, you feel yourself losing ten years off your lifespan. You bury your face into your hands and whine, loudly.

This incident on top of whatever the hell happened during the night of the storm… Rin probably thinks you’re a creep for doing this. You can already imagine how it’ll play out: Rin tells Sae that you’re harassing him, Sae stops being your friend, and you’ll probably have to drop out and move out of the country. Rin might never even show himself to you again, and that thought alone makes your throat tighten up.

However, before you can descend into further madness, if that’s even possible, your phone vibrates again. You swallow the needles in your throat and peek through the cracks between your fingers.

[Sae’s Brother!!!]: Looks nice.

And, to your surprise, there’s an image attached to the text. It’s a dim photo of his opened textbook, a filled in study guide sheet beside his laptop, and on the right side of his desk is a drink from the cafe. You want to make a dumb oolong tea joke, but now you feel bad for disrupting his study session.

Then, another notification comes through.

[Sae’s Brother!!!]: Miss you too. :P

Your heart promptly multiplies into a thousand pieces. You lean into the chair, almost tipping yourself over. Your heart’s beating so hard that you can practically feel it pulse against your temples. Taking deep breaths, you don’t look at your phone until the urge to run away fades.

It feels like you're dreaming, and you know it’s absolutely stupid and silly, that you feel like you’re floating right into a dumb romance drama right now, but you can’t help it. Not when Rin is pulling stunts like this. He probably meant it as a joke, maybe only responded back to mirror you, who knows. But someone like him should not have the power to be so, so adorable under all that hard exterior. That’s just illegal…

“God,” your breath shudders out and you thumb over the keyboard to respond back.

[You]: didn’t mean to send that to you haha… ;; [You]: but i take it that studying is going well??

Rin replies back within seconds.

[Sae’s Brother!!!]: I know. [Sae’s Brother!!!]: Studying’s been fine. Might need to look over something when we meet up again, if that’s okay. [You]: of course!! just lemme know what day works :)

Rin sends you a thumbs up emoji and you don’t get a response for a while after that, figuring that he probably went back to work. It doesn’t matter anyway, because it feels like a hundred pounds just got lifted from your shoulders and you feel so light that you’re convinced that you can see the stars even clearer now.

Thank the heavens he didn’t make it weirder than it already was.

Fuzzy-brained, you decide that it might be best to call it a night and retreat back into the house and towards your old bedroom. Even while laying down on your plush mattress, curled up, with the aircon on blast, you couldn’t fall asleep — at least, not for a long while.

By the time you pass out, it’s from sheer exhaustion and adrenaline rush. Your phone remains gripped against your chest as you sleep, and you end up missing another message from Rin late in the night.

[Sae’s Brother!!!]: Your manager doesn’t make good oolong. Come back soon.

There are several moments when you tell yourself you need to take a couple steps back. That you really, really need to calm down about Itoshi Rin.

The rest of the week comes and goes. You haven’t seen Rin in a few days. You guys sorta text, with him giving you curt updates on his assignments, but Rin goes long periods of time without replying. And, when he does reply, even though it’s just a text on screen, you get a distinct idea that he’s probably tired. So most of the time you end up lounging around at Sae’s apartment, busying yourself with your own assignments and bothering Sae about the end of the year assessment. And maybe you mope to him about his younger brother. Just a little bit.

“Does Rin hate me?”

“Why do you ask?” You could practically hear the eye roll in his response.

You feel a bit juvenile when you explain the reasoning, it’s obvious in your tone. “He’s, um, been kinda dry.”

“Is water dry?”

“...No?”

“Then there’s your answer,” Sae yawns and flips to the next page in whatever new psychological thriller novel he picked up. “Should feel lucky that he’s even responding back, I barely get an emoji out of him.”

Part of the fun thing about being friends with Sae is having full 24 hour access to his apartment. Whenever you’re running low on food, it doesn’t matter if it’s milk or potatoes, somehow there’s always extras at his place. The least fun thing about being friends with him is that he’s god awful at keeping up with conversations. Or, at least in this case, giving you advice on how to approach Rin appropriately.

You decide to change up the topic, slightly. Your mind’s currently running on three shots of espresso and one shitty breakfast sandwich from the dining hall, not really the best combo, and the words start flooding out. “On a different note, if someone you kinda just met shows a side of them that they’ve probably never shown to anyone, how would you react?”

Sae straightens from the couch, eyes flickering to you then back to the book. “Depends on who it is,” he shrugs. He doesn’t sound too interested in the conversation.

“Wise words, I see…” you hum in deep thought. You begin strutting around the tiny living room, circling around in front of the TV and keeping a somewhat watchful eye on Sae as you choose your next words carefully. “What if… it’s like a big thing? Super pent up for so long that they just start pouring all their emotions onto you? How would you react to that?”

“Sounds like a weird person. I would probably leave,” Sae’s voice is dismissive.

You groan, fully understanding Rin’s personal dilemma. “At least pretend to be serious right now!”

And, with that, he shuts his book and rests his cheek against his palm, sighing. “Maybe they told you because they’re afraid of talking to their close friends. Or maybe they just feel comfortable around you, I don’t know. Since you’re so caught up about this… who are you talking about?”

Shit, he caught on.

Sae hardens his gaze on you, suspicion sprawled across his sharp features.

“I—um, uh, it’s a classmate of mine! We were going over grad school applications and they seemed really lost about if they wanted to apply or not… I was just a little surprised when they started talking about their insecurities with me, that’s all. We’re a little bit closer now, though…” your voice trails off and Sae cocks his head a little, pursing his lips, but decides to leave the topic be.

“Right, well… how are Rin’s studies coming along?” Sae asks after a long pause and backs out of your space.

It’s not like Rin’s doing terribly at his studies. He’s picking up some of the methods and variables faster than most people in your department, perhaps even learning at a faster pace than yourself. Though, and this is just an observation, you’ve noticed that Rin rarely takes notes in his classes. When he does, well, it’s sloppy and unfocused. You’re starting to worry, since his midterm is rounding the corner, and you’ve been itching to ask if he remembers the material or if he doesn’t care. You want to, really, but it’s technically not your job to look after him full-time.

Unless it totally has something to do with the weird family dynamic that you can never really nail down? Yeah, you’re definitely not sticking your nose into that mud anytime soon. The last time you did that, well…

“He’s doing fine!” You offer up that much. It’s a little taste of honesty. Not the full truth. Somehow, you know that Sae is damn well aware of that, too.

“As long as he’s motivated, that’s all that really matters.” Sae mumbles. He drops the conversation and it’s probably a good thing, because you can’t concentrate at all.

By the end of this particular meeting, you feel like you’re going to vomit. Your stomach has jumped into your throat, and you’re struggling to keep your breakfast down. It’s way too late to call out of work, so you power through and manage to make it in time for your shift. It’s not until you arrive that you notice a familiar tuff of black hair behind the register, eyes glimmering with all flirt and talk with a female student across the counter.

Then, it hits you, if there’s one person other than Sae who can give mildly okay advice, it’s him.

When the evening rush dies down, you relay the situation back to Oliver, throwing on the crucial details—well, minus the kiss—unfortunately you can’t risk that information going out of his mouth. Unlike Sae, he shows interest from the get go, providing you live reactions and commentary as the story continues. When asked for his thoughts, Oliver covered his face and howled in laughter for a long while, getting stares from customers, before leaning in and eyes you very seriously.

“Kid’s got a massive crush on you, that’s for sure.”

Oliver is obviously a better listener compared to Sae, but also has a tendency to stretch things out for dramatic purposes. You should’ve mentally prepared yourself for this.

“Wait a sec,” Oliver sits on the countertop, despite the rules encouraging against it written on the chalkboard behind him, ponders hard for a moment, and then, “You like him!”

You almost spill a shot of espresso all over your fingers, letting out a small screech, and look up, doing a bit of a double take at your friend. “Don’t you have better jokes to make?!”

Oliver tosses you a clean towel from underneath the counter space and offers an apologetic smile, but he looks amused. “You wanted my honest opinion. Hot, young stud falls for his tutor who also works as a barista? The prompt just writes for itself.”

You swallow a gagging noise. “Please don’t ever refer to Rin as a hot, young stud… even if it is true.”

“If we want to peel back several more layers, maybe this is all part of Sae’s elaborate plan to hook you up with someone.”

“Can’t you have another family emergency again?” You like Oliver. He’s possibly your only favorite coworker out of all the other part-timers, but you’re very unimpressed with him right now. “I’m still in college. You’re acting like I’m going to be forever alone, or something.”

“While that might be true,” Oliver agrees, mildly. “I still think the kid might just be bad with… y’know, showing emotions.” He motions his hands in a heart shape near his chest. “I was like that when I was his age, too.”

“Gross, now you’re just making yourself sound like an old man.” With that beard, it sure adds a few years to his face. No wonder he’s so popular with the ladies.

“You should be more honest with yourself,” he softly chastises, offering you a blueberry muffin that he definitely stole from the back. “Life would feel a lot easier.”

“You talk as if I’m a fictional character in some stupid story,” you sigh, gracefully accepting the baked good in defeat.

There’s a part of you that feels bitter after the conversation, afraid that he’s right. You’ve been solely focusing on your academics for the most part, and that’s not to say that you haven’t had others showing interest in you.

You remembered Oliver hounding you down on your very first day at the coffee shop, trying to get your attention by making you clean up his spills, not sure why he thought that was a good idea… Another guy from your department also tried hitting asking you out by creating a fake math problem that would eventually lead to him asking for your number, but the variables were messed up and all over the place that it didn’t make any sense.

You don’t put relationships on a high pedestal, and you don’t necessarily need to be in one right now. Maintaining a steady income and keeping your scholarship should be your top priority. That, and not falling for your best friend’s brother.

Things go uneventfully for a little while longer at the shop. You and Oliver were going to put on the latest episode of the Bachelor to pass the remaining shift but, by the time you were just about to finish setting up the monitor, the front door bell chimes.

You blink. You and Oliver are in the corner tucked at the back of the store. It’s ten minutes until closing and your stomach churns wildly at the thought of another inconsiderate customer. Because if it happens to be another frat guy ordering a “secret menu” item that some person made up on TikTok again… well, you’re gonna start crying.

“I’ll go take care of it,” you sigh, fishing out the store’s keys out of your pocket. “Just tell me who the guy ends up with.”

Oliver grins as he presses the play button. “Roger that, boss.”

You hadn’t really expected to see Itoshi Rin of all people to swing by.

He barely gets any words out when you emerge to the front counter, needless to say you were the same. After a few mindless scrabbling around and awkward shifting, Rin spits out that he needs an emergency tutoring session, back at his apartment of all places. And, at some point in the night, between your mind turning into mush and Rin refusing to look you in the eyes, Oliver sends you off a little early before you have the chance to help him close.

Which ultimately leads you off here.

“So, what’s the burning question you have for me?” you ask, setting down your book bag on the floor.

Rin’s apartment is a lot minimalistic compared to yours, and more on the traditional side. His place is a bit further out of the downtown area, into the quieter parts of Tokyo, but not terribly far from the school’s public transit. Here, the buildings aren’t skyscrapers and the traffic is manageable, which means a lot more parks and greenery.

Instead of a dining table with chairs, he opted for a low coffee table and cushions instead. There’s tatami flooring, a small bookshelf in the corner with organized sports magazines, textbooks, and a few horror films. Hanging on the walls are a variety of posters; most of them are famous foreign football players and some are a few popular movie covers.

The coffee table is placed right near his bedside, so it makes a perfect back rest for you. Rin keeps a small desk lamp on, he’s mentioned to you in passing that small amounts of warm lighting helps him focus. This setup is certainly a lot more comfortable compared to yours.

Rin decides to sit next to you this time, pulling out an array of notebooks from his bag and fidgets with his pens on the table before flipping to his last pages of notes. “It’s about… torque and resistance.” He buries half of his face into his palm as his fingers trace, almost obsessively, through the notes. From one glance, his writing looks coherent enough, better from when he first started out.

“Um, yeah, sure,” you keep a close eye on him. Rin is behaving rather strangely. Restless, agitated, annoyed, or a combination of all three. Though, a minute into the small lecture, Rin softly calls out your name. “Y-Yes?” you can begin to feel your neck growing dangerously hot.

“About that night, last week…” he finally pushes the words out, but lets them hang in the air, inconclusive.

Your cheeks flare up, and you turn away, clearly embarrassed. Suddenly, you feel like a complete idiot all over again. “I—I’m sorry about that,” you stammer out, staring down at your fingers. “I don’t know what came over me, everything was so dark and—”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he consoles, quickly. “I’m glad that it happened. It was… I… it was good.”

It’s a bit of a rambling response, but it leaves you stunned and flustered, without even realizing it. You finally turn to look at him, eyes a little misty, your cheeks still warm. You’re relieved by Rin’s reply. You open your mouth to respond back, but nothing tangible comes out.

“I want it to happen again,” Rin finds himself saying, tone suddenly low and dark. He shoots you a look, one that you can’t quite interpret. It’s like he’s hovering somewhere between concern and fear that he’s pushing too far. And maybe he is, but you are too.

You let your legs slip out from underneath and you lean up against Rin’s bed. If it wasn’t there, you’d collapse for sure.

Rin follows suit but pulls away from you abruptly, and you manage to look up just in time to catch the flush in his cheeks and neck. It’s hard to see it in the dark but, if Rin’s body language is anything to go by, he’s incredibly embarrassed.

“Are you okay?” His voice is quiet, and you manage a shaky nod, but that nod is immediately followed by another involuntary sound from the back of your throat.

“I, um, should we tell…?”

You’re not entirely sure where Rin stands with his relationship with Sae, nor if both of you can predict the outcome of what would happen. Sae is still a close friend, but you can’t hide the fact that you like Rin away from him forever. Plus, would this even realistically work out? Graduate school, job interviews, things of that sort aren’t in Rin’s horizons, but…

“We don’t have to do anything right now,” he seems to catch on and clears his throat, looking away. “I just wanted to make my feelings clear.”

You briefly think back to Oliver’s advice earlier in the night, about being more honest with your feelings. How things will magically become easier. It’ll be unfair if you didn’t pour out your heart like Rin had done just now. But words can’t be the only way of showing your honesty.

“We can take it slowly,” you stumble out.

Screw it, maybe you can ask Sae for a favor after you’re done tutoring.

Those words seem to melt Rin’s hard exterior almost instantly. Wrapping both your arms around his neck, you press a chaste kiss to his inviting lips.

Rin doesn’t say anything else, but there’s another little teasing nudge of his shoulder bumping against yours, and it somehow communicates more than it should.

taglist: @hellothere9597 @itzmeme @scaraslover @kidd3ath @torureadz

a/n: hi again everyone... if you've made it this far - thank you ;; this piece might just be the longest fic i've ever written (to date...) and tbh im not sure if i like it ? maybe i do idk!! there were so many times i wanted to throw my laptop against the wall gaah did you know that i originally wanted sae to come in and interrupt towards the end? thank god i didnt otherwise our two main love birds wouldn't have been able to kiss... anyways, ty for reading and hopefully you'll see me around more <3 <3 ty i love you

#blue lock #doobea writing #bllk #blue lock imagines #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #blue lock x gn reader

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tetsusangel · 1 month

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yayy okay so let's talk about dp with bullies satosugu but it's an au where they're both demons and reader is a pretty angel

gojo and geto like to have a little fun tormenting innocent humans, but lately their plans have been "ruined" by reader

she spoils their fun because it's her duty to protect humans but also because she's kinda hoping to get the boys' attention

they come up with a plan to surprise her and finally give her what she wants: to have her cute angel holes filled by her favorite bullies 💦🩷

a/n: omg nonny i haven’t written in ages and this is my first req after redoing my whole blog and im sososo happy you shared this thot with me im literally creaming

cw: dom!satosugu, sub!reader, multiple orgasms (reader), overstim, pet names (princess, baby, sweet/pretty/good girl), slight degradation, sprinkle of praise, double penetration (1 hole), cunnilingus, 'toru slaps your cunt twice, he also "slaps" your face once, oral (m! and f! receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, dumbification (sorry i couldn't help myself), MDNI, lmk if i missed anything!!

w/c: 1.4k

Devil!Satoru and Devil!Suguru are the WORST! They make your life as the resident caring angel so hard :( They’re always prancing around toying with oblivious humans.

Before they met you, their antics were occasional and spontaneous. But when they first saw you swoop down and save the poor innocent soul they had been messing with, they knew they had to see you again. Even if that meant going out of their way to torment more humans than they were interested in doing.

And they knew you were enjoying it. Not enjoying saving the humans, but enjoying seeing Satoru and Suguru. The two men were constantly bored and aching for a new plaything, those plain humans just weren’t cutting it anymore. They needed to get their hands on you and that sweet cunt you’d been hiding from them.

They also knew you were too shy to say anything. You were just a pretty little angel trying to stop two big, mean devils from harming the one thing you had sworn to protect. So of course, they kept on with their torments towards those inferior humans. And you, of course, kept coming in to save the day.

“That’s enough! Don’t you guys think it’s time you give those poor humans a break. They haven’t done anything to you” You scolded, putting up a horrible act of pretending you weren’t enjoying their company.

Deep down all three of you knew that something was bound to happen soon. You were all reaching your breaking point. Soon enough they’d give you exactly what you want from them, and they would take exactly what they want from you.

Devil!Satoru and Devil!Suguru wouldn’t be able to hold the title of devils if they weren’t as good as they were in teasing you and slowly breaking you down into the perfect pet for them. But to do that, they’d need you to open up first. What better way to coax a kind hearted angel out of her shell than to surprise her?

As you laid down on your back against the plush expanse of your bed, you wondered why you hadn’t seen or heard anything from Satoru and Suguru. It had been an entire week of peace and quiet; something you weren’t used to and something you didn’t miss.

You didn’t enjoy seeing pure-hearted humans get hurt by them, but you did enjoy the way Satoru and Suguru looked at you when you scolded them. Like they were going to eat you up and, God, you wished they would.

Pulling a pillow over your head you groaned. “Aww poor baby, somethin’ wrong?” A muffled voice called out from your right. A voice that sounded a lot like….Satoru? “She must’ve missed us. I think she likes us more than she’d like to admit” Another voice calls out, this time from your left and the sound is similar to the honeyed voice of Suguru.

Amidst your confusion, the pillow you had used to cover your face was ripped from your hands and lo and behold were the two missing men. Before you can stop yourself, you whined out a quiet “I missed you”. By the looks on their faces, you could tell they had missed you too. And that they definitely had something planned for you.

“Yeah, baby? You missed us? Fuck, we missed you too. Our sweet, little angel. Always pretending she’s coming down to save those worthless humans when she really just wants to be near us.” Satoru starts.

“No- No I” This time, you’re cut off by Suguru. “Don’t be like that pretty girl. We missed you too. In fact, Satoru and I wanna show you how much we missed you”.

You couldn’t believe it. You’ve waited for so long for them to finally give you what you’d been craving since the day you saved the first human they tormented. Were you dreaming? Were you in heaven? No, of course not. Devils aren’t allowed in heaven. This was hell.

Everything happens so suddenly. You're flipped on your hands and knees, Satoru behind you and the tent in Suguru’s pants is right in front of your face just begging to be touched. Before you can even pick a hand up to unzip Suguru, you feel a large hand flip your skirt up followed by two long digits rubbing against your clothed pussy.

Another whine escapes your lips as Satoru’s ring and middle finger draw tight circles around your clit from above your panties. When Satoru finally drags your panties down and off your ankles is when Suguru speaks up again. “C’mon princess, don’t keep me waiting. We’ve been so patient with you. Don’t make us be mean to you on our first day. Or would you like that?”

The whimper that escapes your lips doesn’t go unnoticed by the two. Suguru drops his boxers and jeans, kicking them off as fast as he can. “Kiss the tip baby- Fuck, that’s it. Good girl” The praise is sent straight between your legs and a chuckle from Satoru lets you know he felt your needy cunt clench around his fingers.

“You like that, baby? You wanna be praised? But you’re acting like such a slut. What kind of angel lets two devils use her like this? Oh sweet girl, you’re so wet. You like when I’m mean to you?” You want to say no, you want to tell him it isn’t true (it is true), but Suguru shoves himself farther down your throat, a guttural groan sending vibrations all over your body.

You’re so focused on trying to take Suguru down your throat that you don’t realize Satoru getting impatient. A sharp slap on your clit brings your attention back to Satoru. You barely get out a “S’toruuuu” before he does it again. Another cross between a moan and a whine leaves your mouth causing Suguru to buck his hips into your face.

Satoru can tell you’re getting distracted again, but this time he opts to wrap his soft tongue around your clit while his ring and middle finger slip inside your wet folds, scissoring you open. They’re both so overwhelming, Satoru behind you slurping away at your sweet pussy and Suguru wrapping a hand around your head and pulling it back and forth on his dick.

And then as if they were connected telepathically, they both pull away at the same time. Your head is spinning, the only thing on your mind is making sure you end the night with them stuffing you full of their cum.

Satoru leans back against the headboard and pulls you into his lap, your back facing Suguru. And finally, finally, he slowly sinks you down on his fat length. It’s already too much for you but Suguru is right behind him, they’ve waited long enough. You can take them both. As soon as you’ve settled down on Satoru, Suguru is pushing into you.

“W-Wait, fuucckkk, ‘s too much! Too big!” You cry out, but the two devils don’t seem to care. They buck their hips into yours, the room filled with echoes of your whines and moans of “C-Can’t”, “Wan’ more” and “Please d-don’t stop”. Soon enough you’re not talking at all. You’ve cum more times than you can count. The overstimulation was too much for you to handle.

Your eyes have rolled into your head and the only thing you can think of is Satoru and Suguru and Suguru and Satoru. A light slap on the right side of your face gets you to look at Satoru but he can tell from that far-away look in your eyes that you aren’t completely here anymore. That’s okay though. He knows he wanted this, he knows Suguru wanted this, and he for sure knows that you needed this.

“Suguru, shit, I think our sweet, little angel has gone dumb” A groan is heard from the other man. “Fuck, what slut. She takes us so well.” G-Gonna cum soon” A response is heard almost immediately “M-Me too. You gonna cum for us one more time, pretty girl?” Suguru’s hand snakes around your waist to use a finger of his to rub fast and messy circles around your puffy clit.

No longer able to respond, you arch your back further into Satoru causing your head to lean back on Sugurus shoulder as you whine out in overstimulation. Their thrusts become erratic and you know they’re getting closer and closer and finally they fill you up as you cum. The sticky, sweaty smell of sex overwhelms your senses. Another tap is felt on your shoulder, “Hey pretty, let’s get you cleaned up”

#gojo smut #geto smut #gojo x reader x geto #stsg x reader #satosugu smut #satosugu x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #satosugu o(>ω<)o #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen #bia.nsfw #gojo satoru smut #geto suguru smut

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roosterforme · 4 months

Text

The Younger Kind Part 44 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley swallows his pride and seeks out a conversation with Admiral Simpson, but he's surprised by the response he gets. You keep everyone on their toes, and you do it so effortlessly, Bradley knows it's time to go shopping. And he uses Skittles as the perfect cover.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

When Bradley parked at work a little early on Monday, he sat in the Bronco for a few extra minutes. He had just witnessed you and Noah making breakfast together, and it was making it really hard to be away from you right now. When he walked into the kitchen, you were brewing coffee and singing the dinosaur song with his son while the two of you spread that weird avocado stuff that you liked so much on some toast. He had started to love it, too, and Noah would eat anything you made.

He removed his aviators and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was so much he wanted to get done this week, including looking at a few engagement rings, but he knew better than to make any sort of excuses to get some time alone. That had nearly backfired on him when he went to get Skittles. He was going to have to get creative somehow.

When he pulled out his phone to call the animal shelter about getting Skittles' cast removed, he froze. Across the parking lot, Nat and Javy were both getting out of his car. "Interesting," he muttered to himself as he watched his best friend groping their coworker, and he grimaced. He'd already seen too much.

"Hello, this is the San Diego shelter. How can I help you?"

Bradley nearly dropped his phone; he'd forgotten he was making the call. "Yeah, hi. I need to schedule an appointment to have my dog's cast removed?"

"Oh! Are you talking about the Yorkie?"

He smiled as he climbed out onto the already hot pavement. "Yeah. Skittles. I'm hoping she has sufficiently healed."

"Why don't you stop in on Wednesday and we can check her out."

"Sounds good, thanks," he replied, following Nat and Javy at a very conservative distance. But apparently he wasn't cautious enough.

"So," Nat sighed once Bradley joined her in the hangar, "you saw Javy and I in the parking lot." It wasn't a question, so he decided to just nod and roll his eyes in response. "Oh, come on, Rooster. I'm just having some fun."

"Look at him," Bradley muttered, glancing to where the man in question was smiling at Nat. "Are you serious right now? You want to make him cry or something?"

Now she was the one rolling her eyes. "I'm not taking advice from you. You're historically terrible at dating."

"I'm doing a pretty good job now," he said, smiling as he thought about you.

"You can't even get Cyclone off your girl."

Bradley covered his face with one big palm. "You noticed that?"

Nat laughed. "Everyone at the botanic gardens on Saturday night noticed that."

"Fuck," he groaned. "If she wasn't so young and so fucking hot, I wouldn't be about to embarrass myself by trying to get him to let me fly in the air show."

She just shook her head as she reached for her helmet and muttered, "Oh, cry me a river."

"Hey." Bradley turned just in time to see Javy greeting the two of them like a puppy looking for Nat's attention. He was honestly worse than Skittles at the moment. "The guys are talking about a beach day this weekend. You know, since the summer is ending."

"We don't need to do another beach day. We live in San Diego," Nat replied as she sipped the coffee she wasn't supposed to have inside the hangar. "It's the same season all year round."

Javy laughed like she was a comedian, and Bradley looked back and forth between the two of them, completely baffled by this dynamic. There's no way you and he made a couple this wild.

"Yeah, but it's still the end of August," Javy said, now smiling at Nat as if she was the most adorable thing in the world. "Rooster, you can bring your girl and your kid. It'll be fun."

"You know what," he replied, "I think I'll go if Nat goes."

Then Bradley strolled away as they started arguing, because he saw Admiral Simpson on his way to the tower. He just needed to get Cyclone alone for a few minutes, swallow his pride, and try to head Jake off for the air show. The opportunity arose after lunch when Bradley caught him checking his phone outside the rec room door.

"Admiral Simpson, sir," he greeted before grinding his back teeth while he thought about you. "May I have a word?"

Cyclone glanced up before pocketing his phone, a look of vague amusement on his face. "Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"

"It's about the upcoming air show. Sir. I was hoping you could tell me if you'd made selections regarding who would be flying in it."

His look of amusement grew. "I have not. I believe that was on my agenda for today or tomorrow." He paused before adding, "I've been meaning to thank you for that glass of bourbon on Saturday night. Woodford Reserve is one of my favorites."

Bradley remained unflinching. Although he had no idea what Admiral Simpson was talking about, he thought it better to simply agree with him. "Yes. The Woodford Reserve."

He nearly took a step backwards when the other man started laughing. "You'll have to thank your girlfriend for me, too. And I'm assuming the reason you're here is because you want to fly in the air show?"

"Yes...sir," Bradley replied slowly, feeling very off balance now that Cyclone was being so agreeable.

Still chuckling, he said, "I'll see what I can do," before turning and walking away.

Once he was out of earshot, Bradley pushed through the door to the rec room as he muttered, "What the fuck was that?"

-----------------------------

It was almost fun for you to pick Noah up from daycare now. Not that you would ever admit that out loud. But the enjoyment you found in the way Casey pouted at you was a bit of a guilty pleasure, and besides, you got to have Noah greet you like you were the most exciting and interesting person in the world.

"Mommy!" he called out as he ran across the lobby and into your arms. "Guess what my craft is!"

"A dinosaur?" you asked as you shot an extremely fake smile at Casey before heading outside.

"Nope."

"A... dog? Did you make Skittles?" you asked as you put him in your car.

"Nope."

"The solar system?"

"Nope."

"Hmm. Will you give me a hint?" you asked, brushing his soft curls away from his forehead and giving him a kiss. But he was already unzipping his bag and pulling out his newest painting. There was a big, light blue shape that looked like it could have been Bradley's Bronco along with a man who appeared to be sporting a mustache. "Is that Daddy?"

"Yes!"

Then you noticed a little brown blob. "Is that Skittles?"

"Yes! She's his best friend!"

You laughed, because Noah wasn't wrong. Skittles seemed to love Bradley the most, and as much as he tried to fight it, the dog won him over. "She is," you agreed before buckling him in. "She's his best friend besides Aunt Natasha."

Noah shook his head. "She doesn't count, because she's an Aunt."

"Right, right," you said, not wanting to fight his childhood logic when Skittles wasn't even a human. "You're completely right. Should we go home?"

You started singing the dinosaur song as you drove, and because of a detour, you had to drive past the park where Meredith had chased you down. A shiver rippled through your body as you remembered falling and scraping up your arm in your haste to get Noah safely in your car. You hated coming home this way. There was a reason you never did it.

"Mommy, why did you stop singing?"

You glanced in the mirror at Noah's face. "Sorry! Where were we? The part about how the dinosaur stomp, stomp, stomps?"

Bradley was already home when you pulled into the driveway, and you found him dozed off on the couch with Skittles curled up on his chest. Two seconds later, he was jolting awake with the dog in his hand as Noah ran for him. "Daddy! I made you! Out of paint!"

"Cool," Bradley told him, pulling Noah onto his broad chest as well. "And how's Mommy?" he asked, his voice a little raspier just for you. "How was your day, Princess?"

You shook off the last remaining thoughts of Casey and Meredith as you leaned down to kiss him. "Pretty good." He chased your lips for more, but his arms were too full of Noah and Skittles for him to be able to reach for you. "Looks like you're still tired from the weekend," you said with a wink.

"I had a nice conversation with Cyclone today."

"Oh? About what?" you asked as you started to head to the kitchen to make dinner.

His expression remained completely neutral as he told you, "Bourbon. Woodford Reserve, to be specific." When you said nothing, he added, "We can chat about it later."

So you made spaghetti, knowing you'd been found out. You had been tipsy on Saturday night at the retirement party, but you were pretty sure you remembered what you did. Probably. You hoped Bradley wasn't mad at you over it, but he seemed to be in a good mood as he ate dinner and offered to give Noah a bath while you walked Skittles.

She was stubborn for you at first, plopping down on the front porch and whimpering for Bradley while you tugged gently on her leash. "Come on. You're making me look bad! You were my idea. Mine and Noah's." When she remained in her spot, you had to reach into your pocket and say, "Treat?" That did the trick, and you got her to take a slow lap around the block with you while you broke a milkbone into little bites and gave it to her.

When you returned home, Skittles bounded into the house to get to Bradley where he was sitting on the bathroom floor, looking comically enormous with Noah's rubber duck in his hand. You stood in the doorway and watched him automatically reach down to pet the little pup, taking caution with her casted leg while he rinsed the shampoo out of Noah's hair.

"You want to go to the beach this weekend, Bub?" he asked softly. "With Aunt Natasha?"

"Can Skittles come?" Noah asked, and you watched Bradley place a soft kiss on his wet forehead that left you reeling. Suddenly you couldn't wait for Noah to be in bed so you could have him all to yourself.

"Maybe. If she gets her cast off on Wednesday," he replied softly as the dog fully plopped down with her head on his thigh.

"Daddy?" you asked from your spot in the doorway. It was almost a whine, and when he looked up at you, you were certain he knew what you were thinking about by the little smirk on his lips.

He reached into the tub to drain the water as he asked, "Do you need some attention?"

You just nodded, still in your scrubs from work, but you felt too warm now as you pressed your thighs together. "Yes."

"Fifteen minutes, and then you can have it," he replied with an edge to his voice. "Can you wait that long?"

"I can try," you murmured before you turned to go into Noah's room and get his dinosaur pajamas ready. Anything to expedite bedtime. You listened while Bradley took his time reading three stories, and then you kissed Noah's forehead before you tried to pull Bradley toward the hallway.

He chuckled and whispered, "I'll meet you on the couch."

"Oooh, the couch," you said before running from the room. Before you could even decide what you wanted to do, Bradley was behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and tickling your neck with his mustache.

"I kind of miss those nights when I would help you study."

You moaned softly. "Anatomy really is your specialty."

You felt him pull his right hand away from your body, but before you could complain, it reappeared in front of you with a bag of Skittles on his palm. When you spun in his arms and kissed him, you whispered, "You're so sweet."

Bradley lifted you up and took you the few steps to the couch where you settled in straddling his lap while you opened your candy. "If you're this excited about something I picked up at the gas station, I wonder what you'll do if I buy you something a little more expensive."

You met his soft eyes and leaned in to kiss him. "How much more expensive are we talking?" you asked, treating him to the orange Skittle you pulled out of the bag. He parted his lips and you slipped it between them, watching his jaw work as he chewed it up.

"A lot more expensive," he replied as you ate three candies. "Hey, this is a 50/50 relationship here, Princess."

You shoved a small handful into his mouth and kissed his cheeks as he sputtered and chewed. "I'll share everything I have with you. Too bad I don't have much."

Bradley swallowed down the treat and reached for your free hand. "You give me everything I need. Everything I want, too."

You basked in the warmth of his words as your eyes closed, and a welcome heat crept into your cheeks. "I love you."

"Then I think you'll love what I'm planning on buying for you," he whispered as his mustache grazed your chin and jaw.

You grinned, hoping you already knew what he was talking about, but too afraid to say it out loud. So you pushed the thought from your mind and scooted a little closer toward him on his lap. "What's this I'm hearing about a beach day? And Skittles getting her cast off? This is all news to me."

He didn't miss a beat as he wrapped his big hands around your hips and said, "What's this I'm hearing about some bourbon at the retirement party? It's all news to me."

"Oh," you whispered softly before eating more Skittles, buying yourself a little time to think. "Well, you see... I wasn't exactly sober."

"You're joking," he deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes and shoved more candy into his mouth. "I may have had a glass of bourbon sent over to Admiral Simpson, courtesy of Lieutenant Bradshaw and his girlfriend..."

After a few quiet blinks, Bradley's head tipped back in laughter so loud that Skittles the pup came running into the room. "You didn't!" Bradley said. "I have to work with that man!"

"Somebody had to make the big move, Daddy! It cleared the tension!"

He met your eyes, still shaking his head and smirking. "It also made you look like Daddy's good little girl."

Your heart skipped around in your chest at his words, and you set your candy aside in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck. "Am I not? Daddy's good little girl?"

"Oh, you absolutely are," he replied as he lifted your top inch by inch. "I just never thought my boss's boss would see it that way."

You raised your hands up in the air, eager to lose your shirt, but he took his sweet time about it. "Daddy."

"You can be patient," he whispered, smiling when he saw your purple bra. "Pretty." Your top dropped to the floor as he cupped you through the lace, finding your nipples right away. "You feel like going to the beach on Saturday?"

Bradley's lips found the tops of your breasts, and you could no longer formulate real words. You just hummed in response already knowing he was going to take expert care of you right now and on Saturday as well.

"You could wear your purple bikini and tell all the other guys to fuck off," he said as he ran his nose softly along your skin while he unhooked your bra and let it fall next to your top.

"Would you like that?" you asked as your fingers tangled up in his hair. He answered you by nodding as he took your nipple between his lips. Bradley was all big hands on your bare skin and just the perfect amount of roughness. "Oh god," you whined.

And then he had you on your back in the middle of the area rug with his body over yours. His thigh was rubbing you through your thin pants, and you bucked up gently against him as his heavy weight pressed deliciously against your body. "I love you," he grunted as you tugged at his hair.

"I love you so much, Daddy," you gasped as he yanked your pants and underwear down and off, leaving you in only your socks. He fumbled with the front of his pants for just a few seconds before pulling his length free, and you spread your legs wide for him.

His lips and tongue were wet on your neck as you held him close, lost in the domesticity of having sex here now. Just like your first time with him. Right next to the snag in the rug. But this time you could hear Skittles' claws tapping across the kitchen floor, and you could see some of Noah's crayons that had rolled under the couch while Bradley fucked you. You could smell the lingering scent of the pasta sauce from the dinner you made. You could taste Bradley's now familiar tongue as it met yours. And you could feel his rough hands on your hips and belly where he'd now touched you hundreds of times.

You fell in love with the flood of familiarity he brought to your senses, and it left you smiling up at him when he broke the kiss. "Jesus," he grunted, cupping one cheek in his hand. You kissed the side of his thumb as he stroked your skin, and you watched him slowly come undone for you. "I'll get you there," he promised, changing his angle so he rubbed your clit with each movement.

Just like the first time, he filled you up as soon as you came, and your name was all over his lips as you smiled at the lost crayons before closing your eyes. Bradley collected you against his body as he eased himself down onto his side, and you sighed contentedly. You held onto his wrist as he ran his hand along your hair and kissed you. In that moment you would have agreed to anything he said.

"Baby, I'll be a little late on Wednesday night. I have to take Skittles to get her cast off, and then I need to stop at the store."

You hummed softly in response, pressing your lips to his. "Sounds good."

------------------------------

The only time Bradley heard from you on Wednesday was when you told him that one of your patients came in with an emergency, and you wanted to let him know you'd be helping Dr. Kelly with a minor surgical procedure. He was excited for you, but he didn't want to bother you. Even though he had good news.

"Congrats," Jake drawled in the locker room after a very long day of flying. "Don't know how you managed to pull this one off, but I heard you're flying in the air show."

Bradley ran his towel over his chest before tossing it into his locker. "Thanks," he grunted, trying not to smile. He'd be able to take you on the tour of the hospital with him, and then you and Noah could watch him fly. His son had never seen him in the air before, and it gave Bradley goosebumps knowing that the two of you would be able to do that together.

Jake gave him one last appraising look before he got dressed. Honestly, it was probably the fact that you upped the ante with Cyclone that Bradley was chosen over the others. Perhaps now things could be called even. You managed to keep everyone on their toes in the best way, and it made him smile even now.

You were in rare form this week, luring him in for living room floor sex when there was a perfectly new bed in the bedroom. And then last night, you got him to watch a Disney princess movie with you, even after Noah was in bed, and Bradley had begrudgingly enjoyed it. You were laying across his lap on your back when the end credits rolled, and you said, "If you're a good boy, I'll make you beignets just like Princess Tiana."

Bradley had smirked. "Do those have cream filling?"

"No," you whispered as he eased your shirt up so his palm was flat on your belly.

"Do you want some?"

He had been thinking about getting you pregnant as he made you bury your face in the couch pillows to keep you quiet.

And that was just one of the many reasons he was about to leave work and head home to grab Skittles before stopping at the jewelry store across town. If Casey managed to bump into there and ruin this surprise as well, he would probably lose his mind. But the jeweler near the animal shelter was one of the best in the city, so that was where he would go.

Bradley awkwardly held Skittles while he drove, and eventually she curled up with her head on his thigh while he sat in traffic. She seemed to be doing great, so he hoped that was a good sign that the cast could come off. You and Noah were delighted with her, and she somehow made Bradley fall in love, too.

"Yeah, you're sweet," he told her, scratching her behind the ears while he drove. He parallel parked the Bronco with one hand while he continued to pet her, and when he took her inside the shelter, he held onto her a little tighter. It was hard to believe she'd been here just a few weeks ago, completely unwanted.

Bradley pressed kisses to the top of her head as he waited for the receptionist to finish her phone call. When she hung up, she asked, "And who do we have here?"

"Skittles Bradshaw," he replied, nuzzling his nose against her fur and wondering how on earth he had gotten so attached to this little pup. "Hopefully she can get her cast off today."

He only had to wait a few minutes, and then he watched as they examined her before cutting into the cast plaster. Once she was free, Skittles took a few tentative steps across the exam table, and then she jumped right back into Bradley's arms.

After he paid the monstrous bill for such a small creature, he carried her down the sidewalk, enjoying the cooling temperature as the sun set. When he checked his phone, he saw that you'd finally texted him again.

My Princess: Noah and I are going to play at the park near the beach. Leftovers when you get home?

He typed out a quick message letting you know that sounded perfect. Thoughts of you and Noah together filled his mind as he entered the jewelry store, and two women looked up at him and Skittles. "Is it okay if I have her in here?" he asked, but they both immediately rushed over, practically screeching about how cute his dog was. Honestly, the pet would have probably worked out better than the dating app had for him.

"What are you looking for?" the first woman asked as she petted Skittles on her head.

A soft smile made its way to his lips as he said, "An engagement ring."

"Oh! Of course, let's just head over here to see what you like best. Do you have anything specific in mind?"

Bradley followed behind her as he nodded and said, "A princess cut diamond."

------------------------

A princess for a Princess. Also, there is no way Skittles wouldn't be a magnet for all the ladies. A big man with a small dog... just fuck. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 45

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