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scribblesofagoonerr · 2 days

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— found family | inner demons prologue

pairings: leah williamson x teen reader

summary: reader discovers that family isn't always blood

This is a sort of prologue to inner demons, some background of readers' life in the early years when she transferred to the club.

Also, this is rewrite as I wasn't happy with the original that I posted.

There's always been tell-tail signs that you should've recognised, all throughout the past several years and yet you will still so obviously blind to it all.

It wasn't easy to come to terms with things, but the realisation of it all didn't sit right at all, and in turn you weren't exactly sure how to cope with it all.

It was clear as day for everyone else around to see, your mother was a complete narcissist, she was manipulative and gaslighting. It was something that she had been doing your whole entire life, always making you out to be the bad day in every situation and acting like she was the victim.

How were you so obliviously blind to see that?

You guess your niave self choice to always refuse to believe it, it was the easiest option to just do that.

Looking back to the last several years, your childhood was full of moments like it, but of course you had always thought that your upbringing was completely terrible, it could have been a worse situation.

Growing up, it was only ever the 2 of you, you and your mum. Your parents split up when you were little, the seperation was messy and ever since that day, you'd always been to blame for the reason that it never worked out.

You had always wondered how exactly could it be your fault? You were 3 years old when your dad walked out, so how could it be like that?

"You were always to much to handle, Y/N. He couldn't cope," Your mum would make the excuse, all of them long nights when you would have your tiny arms wrapped around her and sob your little heart out when you asked where he was.

"I'm here, you've got me. You've only ever got me," Her words were imbeded in your head from the day that you'd decided to try and have an open conversation about the possibility of finding your dad, "Why go and find him? Haven't I been good enough. I'm the one that's looked after you for all of these years, and yet this is the thanks that I get in return!?"

It was always something like that, a way to guilt trip you and you always ended up feeling for it.

Her manipulation was completely toxic, of course you didn't realise it until later on in life.

Eventually, you just choice to accept that for the reason that you had such an estranged relationship with your dad.

"Aren't you happy for me? I made it, mum!" You exclaim, you were so happy enough to share the news with her, but you were left so dumbfounded by her response which left you feeling shame and judgement for even wanting to tell her.

The harsh statement of this current conversation with the older women is leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and make you question every single thing in life.

"Yes, you have made it Y/N, but you know, you only have me to thank for that now, don't you?" Your mum once again found a wa to make it about herself, regardless of the situation.

It was always and only ever about herself, no matter what type of news you wanted to share with her. Why was so selfish to not care about you?

"I'm sure that you can find some way to thank me though," You listen to your mum continue to talk and you resist the urge to scoff, "After all of these years and the amount of money I have spent on football boots for you, you'd be nowhere if it wasn't for me and I think you owe me now, don't you?"

Her words stun you and there's a lot of emotions that are building up inside of you. Ultimately you feel confused, how can she manage to twist this to make it all about herself, but of course shes' quick enough to make an excuse to end the call when she grows bored of talking to you.

You should know better, every single phone call has the same pattern to end the same way and you always leave with a pang of guilt for making a life for yourself.

It turns out that this phone call was no different either.

You are so excited to spill the news of making it into the senior squad of the national team, however the excitement soon fades and now you're replaced by mixed feelings of confusion, anger and upset instead. You fight to hold back the tears during the initial phone call but now its' over, you feel on the verge of a breakdown.

You feel like your news is a big deal, you've only been a part of the arsenal women's first team for shy of a year but it feels like such a massive achievement to be selected to represent your country and straightaway, the first person you thought-- you wanted to call was your mum. You thought she was going to be so pleased for you, so excited about it but you can't be further away from the truth.

The conversation happened a week ago, yet you still couldn't let it escape your mind.

Ever since the phone call, you had tried to distance yourself from her but even that hurt to do. The women was the only blood related family member that you had, it had only ever been the two of you, sticking together through thick and thin.

"You seem quiet tonight," Your guardian and fellow team member, Leah, perches on the arm of the sofa as she looks at you in concern, "I'm about to start cookin' tea soon. How do you feel about chicken nuggets and smiley faces?" She wonders.

"That sounds good to me," You shrug your shoulders and glumly stare staight ahead at the wall in front of you, the TV is playing but you barely even pay attention to whatever it is that's playing.

Its' been a long day with training ahead of a crucial game in the season, but all you can think about right now is the conversation you had with your mum a week ago previously on a constant loop in your head.

You still can't help but think about the conversation; The bitterness, the manipulation, every single time you thought about it, it made you think of every single time that something else happened like this throughout the years.

Maybe your childhood wasn't as great as you really thought it was?

"Okay," Leah nods and smiles in agreement but she doesn't move away just yet, "Is there anything that you want to talk about at all, bubs?" You know she's only asking for a bit more insight on your current mood, after returning from her own rehab session to find you shut away in your bedroom, the entire shift in mood was concerning to her.

The usual car rides over the past week had been quiet instead of the raised music level and sarcastic comments that the blonde was used to, replaced instead by the quiet, dull mood with you slumped against the car door and staring out of the window.

Leah definitely knew there was something wrong with you.

"Nope, I'm fine," You stand firm on your reply, shaking your head and keeping your eyes glued on the TV screen, choosing to look anywhere other than at the blonde, who would be able to see right through you in seconds.

"Are you sure?" Leah questions, furrowing her eyebrows in concern as she could see the tears welling up in your eyes, "Bubs, what's the matter? You look like you're gonna cry," She notes, worriedly.

"I... I'm fine," You mumble, fighting to keep the tears at bay until you can escape to your bedroom and allow yourself to be vulnerable when you're alone.

You always feel complete shame to show any sort of vulnerability in front of anyone, let alone the blonde defender who has taken you under her wing ever since you joined during the transfer window of 2022.

Crying only shows signs of weakness, you refuse to be seen as weak.

"Okay," Leah exhales a sigh and taps your knee gently, deciding to drop the subject when she realises you aren't be open and talk about things, "Its' okay if you don't want to talk about it, but just remember that I'm always here to listen, alright? Anytime that you want to talk, I'm here,"

Unforuntately, you are too stubborn to not give in and blurt everything out there and then to her. You feel like you still need time to wrap your head around the idea and see things for how they really are now.

"Uh huh. Thanks," You murmer in repsonse, getting up from the sofa and shuffling away to the confined space where you can be alone.

Leah exhales another sigh and shakes her head, heading into the kitchen to make a head start on dinner but she can't help but still be worried about you. Of course the women knew better than to try and get you to talk if you didn't want to though.

The blonde has always been around to witness moments like this and the backlash of it, you hadn't told her outright what was going on but she already had an idea what it was about.

All of your upset stems down to the one person causing you to be like this and she hated it every time you were left upset when you spoke to her.

Every single time you and your mum spoke, you would always become quiet and be in a general bad mood, often resulting in lashing out at people around you as a coping mechanism.

You know that all the arsenal girls have their own opinions on your mother, but they would never voice them out loud to you, because you wouldn't agree with it, but you knew it. They know it wouldn't be fair on you as the youngest member in the squad, even after the countless times they had seen the girl upset by her own mums actions.

You were so grateful for every single of the girls on the team, Leah especially, she'd always been there for you since day one.

Ever since you moved in with Leah, there's been several nights where she would be the one to comfort you and pick up the pieces, waking up in the middle of the night to hear your heartbroken sobs and feel her own heart shatter every single time, wanting nothing more than to take away any sort of pain that you were experiencing.

It was heartbreaking for all of the team to witness and always sought out to comfort you, they knew no matter what they said, it still wouldn't stop you contacting our mum.

Ultimately, it was your own decision to make soon enough when you turn 18 and until then they would be there to pick up the broken pieces when your mum let you down.

It happened time and time again, unfortunately.

You have lashed out way too many times as a result of that.

None of the girls ever took it to heart of course, they were old and wise enough to realise that none of your anger was directly aimed towards them and there was much bigger issues to be dealt with.

They have always vowed to support you, regardless of what happens in the long-run.

"I... I should've realised sooner," You think to yourself as you lay crumpled up in your bed that following night, its' almost 4 am in the morning, but you were still wide awake with your thoughts spiraling.

You can't help but think about things, replaying every single conversation with your mum that you have had, the numerous times that you've started to talk to her and she's cut you off with her own problems.

Why was it always like this? It wasn't fair.

The first mistake was ignoring her gaslighting this whole time.

The second being that you believed her manipulation for years, always twisting things to make it seem like she was the victim in the different situations - first when you were a child and even now as your nearly an adult.

Why had it taken you so long to finally realise it after all of these years? Why couldn't you have just realised it sooner?

Without much realisation to the current moment, your sobbing aloud with a tight clutch of your pillow. The pent up anger is replaced by sadness and loss, your grieving the loss of a women who you have always seeked the approval off and now you realise you can never have it.

The phone call was the last chance, the reality of it all coming to light.

Every time you have now learned to understand that youwhen speak to her, it's nothing but a vicious cycle of emotional abuse, something you were so oblivious to believe.

As much as you didn't want to believe it, it's true. Its' clear as day of what it is but yet, you still find it hard to believe it.

It's your mum, your flesh and blood, so could she be like that?

The sound of your sobs were what woke Leah up, she's quick to pad out of her bedroom and push open your bedroom door to find you crumpled up in your bed, "Bubs?" The women stands in the doorway of your bedroom, her heart cracks to see you looking so distraught and vulnerable.

Without any hesistance, the blonde is quick move to be beside you on your bed and envelope you in a warm hug, "Its' okay, its' okay. I'm here now," She's quick to comfort you, she wouldn't ever stop doing that as long as you need her, "Let it all out, I'm right here," She adds.

Leah keeps you in her arms, gently rocking you as she runs her slender fingers through your messy bedhead, "Just let it all out, alright? I'm here, I'm not going anywhere," She reassures you.

As always, she's patient enough to wait for you to calm down before she gives you chance to speak, she won't ever push you to talk if you don't want too.

"L... Le," You cry aloud, clutching onto her tightly. Your breath becomes more shaky as sobs wrack your body, trying to find the words but nothing wants to come out of your mouth right now.

"I'm here, it's okay," Leah repeats in a calming voice, continuing to try and comfort you in the best way that she knows, but she already knows it's going to be a long night ahead of them, or day rather.

An emotional night that will leave you drained tomorrow for sure.

A vicious cycle on a loop, once more.

"Ready to tell me what's going on inside that head of yours now, hm?" The blonde quietly asks with caution, already having a feeling that she knows the answer to that question.

There's a brief pause of silence in the room and the blonde thinks that you wouldn't talk, but regardless of that, she still continues to comfort you and reassure you that she's here and not leaving at all.

To Leahs' surprise though, you do start open up this time though and the words spill out of your mouth without you even thinking about it.

"I... It's my mum," You mumble quietly, making the mistake to speak aloud than think it like you thought you have done, "I... I should've realised. I should have done,"

Leah furrows her eyebrows on confusion, "What should you have realised, bubs?" she questions about what you mean.

Snapping your head in the blondes' direction, you bite your bottom lip and debate whether to be open with your thoughts that you have been trying to buried.

"I should have realised about my mum, she's so... she's so toxic," You admit as you try to fight more tears from spilling, "Why does everything I tell her-- Why does it always get turned back around so its' about her?"

There it is. You've blurted it all out in the open, your feelings were laid out now and there's no more hiding how you feel.

Leah smiles sadly and continues to hold you in her arms, "I... I'm sorry bubs," she speaks honestly.

"So many people, so many people have told me-- They've warned me, you've warned me about her, but I... I never wanted to listen, did I?" You confess, the tears spilling again and you don't care a less if you look like a blubbering mess right now, but you still can't stop the emotions pouring out right now, "And now... now I finally realise how its' always been. Why is she like this, Le?" You question.

"I can't say I know the answer to that one, bubs. I wish I knew," Leah replies, exhaling a sigh as she can't fathem herself how your mother can be like to her you, her own child.

The blonde feels so much for you, your still so young and she always wished that she can make the situation better for you.

"Listen, I know its' hard but you've got us. All of us girls here at arsenal, we're all here for you and you're so loved by all of us," Leah continues to tell you gently, running her slending fingers through your hair.

"I... I just want her to love me, and she just... she doesn't even care about my feelings!" You state, roughly trying to wipe at your tear stained cheeks to the point where you made them red and angry, "Why does she always throw everything back in my face? Everything that I have ever done, she makes it about herself. Always!" You cry.

"I know, I know it hurts... I know that it does," You keep your head buried in the blondes' chest as you hiccup from the sudden breakdown in the middle of the night, "And I'm sorry that you have to go through this. I'm so sorry, because it's not fair on you, bubs," She adds, trying to comfort you in the best way that she can for you.

The whole wave of emotions leave you feeling entirely exhausted in the end, you are trying to fight to keep your eyes open as you lie slumped up against the blonde.

"Come on you, lets' get you back into bed, yeah? I mean you're almost falling asleep on me here, bubs," Leah notes your exhaustion and is concerned for your lack of sleep, trying to get you to crack a smile even as it feels impossible right now, before she gently moves you to lie back in bed.

"M' not tired," You mumble, trying to protest against the idea of sleep.

"I don't think thats' true now, is it?" Leah chuckles, tucking you into bed, "I'm so sorry that you have to deal with this now, bubs, but you know that you have a family here with us. We may not be blood, but we really do love you so much," Before you know it, your eyes are fluttering shut but you don't miss hearing the blondes' words before she presses a gentle kiss against your forehead.

You really had found your family here at arsenal.

#arsenal x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal women x reader #scribblesofagoonerr #woso x reader

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satorusugurugurl · 14 hours

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Here's some funny ideas I've got while at work today; a leisure streamer gojo who'd just simply streamed himself playing games naked except for his sunglasses and briefs. Rumors had it that each time his all-time top donor was replaced, the new one would get to see him ~fully naked~.

The Leisure Streamer is a Hottie!

Summary: Rumor had it the top donor of the-strongest-streamers chats get to see him naked! Now that you're the top donor will you get to see the goods or was it just a rumor. Time will tell.

Pairing: Streamer!Gojo x FAB!Reader

Warnings: language, nudity, masturbation, mutual-masturbation, skype sex??

A/N: I fell in love with this request! ugjskdkekd I love them so much! Thank you bonnie for such a great idea!! 💚💚💚

On Friday nights, you always ran home from your last college class, avoiding people on bikes and walking by. You often got dirty looks thrown at you or the occasional ‘watch where you're going.’ But nothing would stop your stride. Friday nights were some of your favorite nights of the week. All because the-strongest-streamer live streamed on Fridays.

And the man, god fuck, he was the hottest!

Gojo Satoru, aka the-strongest-streamer, was a leisure streamer. He played games like Animal Crossing, Dream Daddy, and fluffy feel-good games in only his boxers and sunglasses. He was among the most popular streamers, not only for his looks but also for his happy-go-lucky attitude. But because of a particular rumor that started going around.

It was said in the forms online, in his comments, and even on Twitter that every time his all-time top donor was replaced, the new one would get to join a private stream with him and see him fully naked. That was just a rumor. He had denied the allegations and made it clear that the private stream was to have a meet and greet with his top donor.

The meet and greet was why you’ve been saving money for six months. You wanted to meet the man who had brought you so much joy in the last year. You stumbled across his profile when looking through videos online. You were looking for a cute cat compilation to ease the ache in your heart after your boyfriend dumped you. Instead, you found this goofball that had you smiling like an idiot on your phone.

You had been in a dark time when you first found his videos. You wanted to express your gratitude to him. Seeing him naked was not your goal in any way, shape, or form.

The second you got home, you slid over to your laptop and pulled up Gojo’s stream. He was sprawled out in his black and blue gaming chair; blue LED lights illuminated the room. Black sunglasses reflected his computer screen as he adjusted his headset.

“Tom Nook is a scammer.” He announced as hundreds of comments flooded in. “The little shit asks me to do all this for him! After all, I have to spend my hard-earned bells on upgrading the pavers. Kiss my nicely toned ass, you bastard.” You smiled, giggling as you dreamily watched him. “Ya’ know what? Next week, we'll play Sims or something; I’d rather build a house than have Tom Nook steal all my money.”

He adjusted his sunglasses as he slipped on some frappe, the logo conveniently covered so no one knew where he was. Several comments flooded in asking what he was drinking, and most people sent in small donations. All of these were things Satoru tried to answer and thank. He may miss a couple here and there, but he tried hard to get to everyone. God, he was so down to earth.

It was all of those reasons that had you clicking the donate button, sending a total of eight hundred dollars to him. Your cute little icon of a mochi popped up on his screens, flashing while music blared. The whole scene reflected off his dark sunglasses.

“Eh?!” The white tufts of his hair flowed as he moved in, focus glued to the screen. “Whoa! Whoa! Mochi-gurl-89, thank you so much for that donation!” With a chipper chime, you took the spot as his top donor. “And it looks like you're my new top donor! Just before the stream ended! I'll have one of my admins contact you so we can do our private stream. And with this, I adore you all, until next time this is the-strongest-streamer signing off!”

The second he ended his stream, your inbox chimed with a new message. As Satoru said, it was a message from one of his admins. The message was clear; you got a thirty-minute stream, maybe more if Satoru agreed. There could be no recording of your conversation or photos, which was perfectly fine. All you wanted to do was talk. After agreeing to all those terms and signing a nondisclosure form, you were sent a link to your private stream.

You had your camera off, your cute chibi mochi avatar taking up your screen as Satoru’s room was fully displayed. With a deep breath, you shook your hands, trying to ease your nerves as a door opened on Satoru’s screen. A second later, he plopped down in his gaming chair. God, he was so handsome. Fluffy white hair and chiseled abs like he was carved from marble; he was just your type.

“Hello?” he asked, “you there, mochi-gurl-89?”

“O-Oh! Uhm, yes, hi!” He stared at the screen, frowning just a bit as he saw your avatar instead of your face.

“Here, I thought I’d be talking to a fan. Instead, it's a cute mochi ball.”

You nervously giggle before clicking a few times and turning your camera on. You felt so plain compared to him. He was incredibly sexy, and you were just an average college girl. In your opinion, there wasn’t much to see.

“Oh.” Satoru breathed out, drawing your attention back to the screen. You swear to God, you choked on your breath. Because he had taken his sunglasses off, revealing cerulean eyes behind white lashes. “Wow, you're fuckin’ hot.”

“Oh! Uhm—”

“Fuck! Sorry, did I say that out loud?” he sulked back in his chair. “I'm so sorry. I'm not one of those creeps who stalk their followers. I, I was expecting—”

“A giant ball of mochi?” The sweetness of your voice seems to have him relaxing as he realizes you didn't mind his compliment.

“Exactly.”

You cup some of your hair behind your ear, biting your lip. “Sorry to disappoint, but thank you for the compliment.”

“And thank you for the generous donation! That means a lot to me.”

“Thank you for being such a beacon of light in my life.” Did popular streamers think comments like that were cringe? “I hope that doesn’t come off creepy or weird.”

“I've had fans send me their underwear. Being a beacon of light to you is the least weirdest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

You can't help the wide, warm smile that spreads across your face. “You have no clue how happy that makes me. I went through a nasty break and the night that it happened. I found one of your—” his fingers played with the hem of his boxers. “Your stream—and you—” fingers gently lift the hem, and you focus on his face. “Uhm Gojo?” The man on your screen hums.

“Yes, mochi-gurl?”

“I—I heard about you getting naked for the private streams.” Using your hands, you shield your vision. “B-But you don't have to do that! I just wanted to talk.”

“Eh?!” peeking through your fingers, you watch the white-haired man turn red. “Naked! No! No shit fuck, I'm sorry! I'm not a perv, I swear to god.” He shields his face in his hands, grumbling some incoherent words that you can't make out.

Gojo didn't seem like the type to be a pervert, and from his reaction, it wasn't like you’d caught him fully undressing in front of you. If anything, he seemed more embarrassed than you. After gathering your thoughts, you leaned a bit closer to your screen.

“Gojo?”

His white hair flies as his head jerks up. “I-I know about the rumors! How I get nude for my private streams for my top donors, but that is nothing more than a rumor, I swear!” Your eyes widen as he stares directly at you, into your soul. “I promise you I wasn't about to do anything remotely weird.” His face is almost entirely red, and his bottom lip is between his teeth as he scans your features.

“Okay,” you tentatively begin, “then what were you doing?”

“That's the thing; it's going to sound ten times worse when I tell you what I was doing.” you motion with your hands for him to continue. “Okay, just promise you won't put me on blast or try to cancel me?” When you nod, the leisure streamer grumbles before tilting his head back. “I-I’m sorry, but you're really hot. Like super mega hot.” Thank god your room is so dark, or he could see how flushed you were. “So hot, my stupid dick decided to spot a hard-on.” He rolls his chair back just an inch, revealing the extremely hard bulge in his boxers. “I was trying to discreetly lift the waistband so you wouldn't see how hard I was.”

A string of ‘I’m sorry’ echoes on the other end of the screen. Gojo’s blue eyes focused on you, waiting to see how you reacted to the news. His shy demeanor and the bulge in his boxers have you shifting in your seat. Heat pools between your thighs. God, were you getting wet? Rubbing your thighs together, you confirmed that you were as you felt your arousal. You bite down on your inner cheek to prevent a moan from sounding.

“Hey, mochi-gurl? You're too quiet, and you look super pissed. I'm sorry.” Gojo’s voice seems to enhance your growing arousal. He sits back, cocking a brow as you peer at him with dark needy eyes through your lashes. “H-Hey you go-goo—oh fuck.” He watches as you stick your hand between your legs.

“You think I’m hot?” Your voice is so smooth, with desire.

“Y-Yeah, super hot.” Gojo follows suit, his hand reaching back down, fingertips slipping under the band of his boxers. “The hottest fuckin’ girl I've ever seen.”

Pressing your fingers against your shorts, you rub your clit in slow circles. “Gojo, you’re girlfriend won't find us doing this?” The man on the screen before you scoff, his hand sliding fully into his boxers.

“Girlfr-ahh—” his hand moved up and down, “fuuuck—what girlfriend? I-I go to the gym, hang out with my friends, and live stream.” Watching him stroke himself has you feeling feral. “Plus streaming half naked, well, let's just say girls don't like that.”

You rubbed your clit faster, “As a girl, I like it.” White brows knitted on your screen. “I like it a lot; it's so hot.” Gojo watched, head resting back against his chair as you slid your hand up your shirt, cupping your breasts, massaging yourself.

“Y-Yeah? Does your boyfriend like it?”

“I don't have one~”

Gojo growled, biting down on his lip. “Really?” He leaned back, spreading his legs apart. “Lucky me.” Pursing your lips together, you tilted your head back. “Fuck, you're so fucking hot, sweetheart.” something overcame you. A boldness you hadn’t experienced before. Taking the bottom of your T-shirt, you put it between your teeth and lifted it, revealing your bare chest to your favorite streamer. “Oooh fuck, you have the prettiest tits.” Gojo watched as your fingers moved elegantly over your skin, kneading your breast until your nipples were hard. “How rude of me, you’re showing me yours might as well show you mine.”

A choke sounds in your throat as you nearly release your T-shirt from between your teeth. Gojo had pulled his boxers down just enough to hook them underneath his balls, freeing his gorgeous cock. His cock throbbed and twitched underneath his hand as he gently began stroking it up and down. Watching him stroking himself, twisting his wrist, squeezing it just around the tip, causing his head to tilt back, and seeing that made you do something you had never done.

Gojo could hear you shuffling in the background before your screen suddenly turned, and he faced a couch. You plopped down, your shorts discarded. With his jaw dropped open, Gojo watched as you spread your legs as wide as you could in front of the camera and rubbed your fingers over your wet pussy. You had never done something like this before. Sexting, yes, but full-on masturbating in front of a stranger, this was something you never thought you would do.

“Holy, you're so wet.” his hand sped up around his cock. “God, look at you. You’re so fucking pretty.” his thumb brushed over the slit rubbing pre-cum over the tip. “God, I wanna taste you. I bet you smell fucking delicious.”

“I want to suck you off, fuck, Gojo~ fuuuck.” coding your fingers in your slick, you rub quick, fast circles around your clit, causing your legs to tremble. “Gojo~ Gojo~”

“N-No, call me Satoru, please.”

“Satoru~”

Goj—Satoru tilts his head forward, his burning gaze on you, watching you slide a finger inside your tight heat. You don't think you've ever been so aroused. Having a stranger watching you finger yourself as he jerks off had your walls clenching around your fingers. Satoru must have thought the same thing because his tip dribbles more pre-cum, his cock throbbing hard as he matches his pace with yours.

“Oh god, I'm so wet.” Slick coats your fingers as you rub your clit with your thumb. “I can't remember the last time I was this wet.”

“I can tell, god, you're soaked.” Glancing at the screen, you can see Satoru gritting his teeth. “Oh fuck, I-I’m so hard it hurts, I-I’ve never done this before. God feels so good; all my brain is thinking is, ‘dick hard, feel good.’”

The conversation dies down, replaced with whines, moans, and grunts of pleasure. Your eyes never miss each other. You both constantly look each other over, whispering each other’s names like prayers. You try to imagine how his thick, long fingers would feel inside of you instead of your own. You know that he could reach the sweet spots inside you that you loved. At the same time, Satoru imagines replacing his hand with your own while his fingers take the place of yours.

Both of you are so worked up that you find yourself dangling over the edge of an orgasm before you know it. Your legs are trembling, toes curling, while Satoru’s hand moves faster his other hand, reaching down, cupping his balls, massaging them. Both of you are lost in each other’s pleasure without even touching the other. There’s chemistry between you. Both you and Satoru can feel it through the screen.

“Oh fuck, of fuck, fuuuuck fuck!” Satoru leans closer to his screen to watch you. “Oh god, I can feel it coming; it’s gonna be a big one. Baby~ fuuuck, please tell me you’re close.”

“S-So close.” a sharp inhale of breath sounds, “Oooh fuckin’ shit, Satoru, I’m gonna cum~.”

“Oi.” your eye hazily find him, “look at me when you cum.”

That, god, that was the hottest thing anyone has ever told you. “Cummin! Oh fuck, Satoru~! Satorruu!” the screen that leaves your body almost doesn’t sound human as you squirt all over your couch. Even though your orgasm is the hardest one you’ve ever experienced, not once do your eyes leave his.

“Good girl~ good fuckin girl.” his praises leave your cunt twitching. “Oh fuck, gonna fill you up all the way. Tell me you want it. Please.”

“Yes~ Satoru, inside~ inside~!”

The veins and his neck protrude as he slams his free fist against his desk, causing his setup to shake. Ropes and ropes of white cum spurt out of his cock. The sticky substance coats his abdomen, on the top of his thighs and hand.

“Fuck~ fuck~fuuuck!” His hand continues, moving up and down his shaft, milking his cock for all that it’s worth. “Fuuuck!” he hisses out through clenched teeth.

Several seconds pass, both of you breathing heavily, recovering from your orgasms. Swallowing hard at your dry throat, you slowly pull your fingers out of you with a wince. Satoru was the next move, grabbing some tissues off his desk and cleaning himself up. You can’t help but laugh softly in the silence of cleaning yourselves.

Hearing the angelic sound leaving your mouth, Satoru focuses his blue eyes on you. “What’s got you giggly over there?” much to his disappointment, you slide your shorts back on before sitting back on the couch.

“That was one hell of a meet and greet.”

Satoru’s lets out a rough laugh.”Yeah, it sure as hell was. I think I owe you a proper meet and greet.” The streamer let out a content sigh. “Are you free tomorrow night? I’d be happy to answer any questions you may have.” he leans back, fixing his boxers.

“Think you can keep your boner down long enough for that?”

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see. I can’t make any promises that it’ll behave.”

“Huh, what if I don’t want it to behave?”

Flushed cheeks darken in color as Satoru’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. “Goddamn, you're so hot. Who knew some chick with a mochi avatar was going to have me stroking my cock tonight.” God, he was so cute, both physically and in personality. “Which is super cute, by the way. Did you do it yourself, or did you have an artist commission it? Because I am in dire need of some new avatar artwork for my videos.”

“I drew it myself. I’m a freelance graphic design artist.”

“You takin’ commissions right now, Miss oh-so-hot-and-talented?”

“If I get this job I want tomorrow, I might have to take a brief break. But I would make an exception for you.”

Satoru opens his mouth to say something, but there’s a knock on the door behind him. “Shit, sorry, I gotta go; I promised my roommate I would help him hook up a computer upstairs.” With one final glance in your direction, Satoru, for once, was elated over a rumor that had spread about him over the Internet. “Tomorrow same time, mochi-gurl?”

“Sounds great, Satoru.”

After bidding farewell to the exceptionally hot man, you pass out on the couch. From the excitement of getting to meet your favorite streamer to the intensity of your orgasm. The combination of those contributing factors knocked you on your ass. While your neck was stiff, falling asleep like that on the couch allowed you to get some of the best sleep in months.

You woke up refreshed and ready for your interview that morning. Satoru had put a peep in your step as you walked into the coffee shop you had an interview with. The owner wanted to develop a new logo design for the shop. One that was both warm, welcoming, and had an adorable mascot.

“Wow,” The man across from you flips through your portfolio, “you're talented. You’re just a freelance artist?”

“Mhmm, I don’t like big corporations. I would rather help out small businesses and help support our local community.”

The man interviewing you brushes dark bangs out of his face, his tongue running over his lip piercing. “We love supporters of small businesses. People like you that keep our place going.” He brushes long, dark strands of hair before his dark eyes leave the page before him, meeting your nervous gaze. “Which is why I think you would be a great fit. Your art is exactly what I’m looking for when I think of our logo.”

“Really? That’s so good to hear. I promise you I won’t disappoint you. I’ll be sure to make your dreams come true.”

Your interviewer shuts your portfolio, handing it back to you. He held out his hand, his nails painted black, and his rings on almost every finger. When you first walked into this cute café, you were intimidated by the stranger. He was covered in tattoos and piercings, and his gauges were huge, but he couldn't have been any nicer. So, without hesitation, you stood up, shaking his hand.

“I'm looking forward to doing business with you, Geto.”

“Same goes for me; I’ll give you a tour and introduce you to everyone.”

Rainbow Dragon Cafe recently went viral for its excellent coffee, pastries, and aesthetic. Not only was it a café, but it was also a gaming café. There is a bar where people can enjoy their coffee and booths where they can sit down and work on projects if needed. On one wall, there’s a large flat-screen TV playing compilations of different streamers talking to the camera as they play games. A large sectional couch was set up in front of it so people could sit down and watch if they wanted to.

The other wall was set up so that people could take photos with the company's logo behind them. That was if they had a logo, which is where you came in. For the next few months, your job was to help the owner, Geto Suguru, design and revamp his menu and website. Once you succeed in your mission, a cute neon sign with the logo will be placed on the wall, covered in fake vines and flowers. It is the perfect spot to take photos and hashtag the cafe in their posts.

“This is Shoko; she manages the front and helps run orders to tables.” A woman with dark brown hair waved at you casually as she passed a cigarette in her mouth and headed for the front.

“Taking a smoke break, I’ll be right back.”

Geto led you into the back, where an espresso machine hissed. “Back here is Ryomen Sukuna; he is my best barista.” The muscular, pink-haired man in front of you, covered in tattoos, slammed a rag down on the counter.

“I'm not some fucking barista; I’m the king of coffee.”

“Right, king of coffee, sorry.” Geto introduced you to several other workers. Most of them were just high schoolers working there as a part-time. Itadori, Fushiguro, and Kugisaki waved at you before returning to doing their inventory. “And you’ll meet my girls eventually. They said something about getting more couches or pillows for the front. They’re the head of our social media team.”

You lean over the counter with Geto, overlooking the shop that you were hired to help. “I love the setup you guys have. It’s got my creative juices flowing.” Glancing at the TV, you watch a compilation of different streamers reacting to jump scares. “But I’m curious. Why make it a gaming cafe?” Geto follows your gaze, humming at your question.

“That’s all because of my best friend. I didn’t want just to run a cafe and bookstore; I wanted to do something different. He pitched the idea. A place for people to sip coffee, read a book, or play video games.”

“Sounds like he’s a good friend.”

“He is.” Geto jerks his thumb in the direction of a door. “He rents out the basement while I live in the loft upstairs. He's an investor; you might get to meet him if he ever drags his stupid ass out of the basement.”

“Oh, that wou—”

Before you finish your sentence, the door Geto is still pointing at is slammed open. “Suguru! Hey, do you think I could borrow that blue shirt of y-you—” God, if you hadn’t been holding onto the counter, you might’ve passed out? Blue eyes that had been locked and focused on the night before met your gaze. You almost didn’t recognize him because he was wearing clothes. “H-Holy shit, mochi-gurl?!”

Your favorite leisure streamer, the man you had masturbated with the night before, was standing right in front of you—more like towering over at a total of six three feet. Words seem to evade you as you stutter. “G-Gojo?” Why was the room spinning all of a sudden?

“Hey, I thought we went over this last night. You can call me Satoru!” his smile fades as soon as it appears on his face. “Sweetheart? Oh shi—” He’s rushing forward just as your world fades to black due to shock.

This was a dream right, it had to be a dream!

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe

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slutofpsh · 2 days

Text

moth to a flame | psh.

pairings: park sunghoon x reader

synopsis: like a moth to a flame, you kept coming back to park sunghoon even though his flames can burn you.

wc: 3k

warnings: smut, mention of cheating. dni.

the continuous slapping of your skins are making a sound so erotic adding to the heat you are feeling with your bodies linked together. the bed squeaked while your hand gripped hardly over the sheets. your eyes shutting tightly because of too much pleasure that sunghoon is making you feel at the moment.

“stay fucking still, pretty.” sunghoon grunts.

"oh my-" you couldn't even finish your sentence as your body starts convulsing after reaching your second orgasm. your mouth slightly hanging open, doesn’t even give a fuck if there's drool coming out. mind too clouded over pleasure as he hit it from the back deliciously.

sunghoon groaned rutting his cock even deeper to your hole as he try to catch up on you. he smirks then bit his lower lip, canine showing then slap your butt once. the view of it jiggling as he hardly thrust turns him even more. he leaned down placing a wet kiss at your shoulder before turning you around, making you lay on your back this time.

your eyes met while you're both catching breaths and the view of him staring down at you, eyes filled with so much lust, just makes your hole twitch in anticipation.

you shake your head when he shamelessly licked his hand before starting to give slow strokes to his dick, aligning it to your entrance once again. hole so wet with your cum mixed together. it felt so dirty, but for some reasons, you like it. you like it so much.

"i c-can't anymore." you whined and hand stretches in attempt to push his hand away. it was no use because he easily shoved it away, eyeing you fiercely for trying to stop him from having his sweet pleasure.

“one more, baby." he says using his husky voice and easily slides in you again, hands gripping your hips so hard that his big veiny hands will surely leave prints.

the sensation of being filled by his thick cock makes your cunt excited, squeezing and suffocating it.

"just one more..." he mumbled, like as if trying to remind himself that you two needs a break too. he follows it with a low grunt as he started to thrust harder and faster again.

you moaned, starting to feel all your energy draining out of you. feeling too much from being overstimulated and exhaustion already kicking in. you two had been at it for hours already and sunghoon's stamina is just crazy. you could never get into his level, but there’s no way to tell him off because damn, does it feels so damn good. so damn good. nothing can ever beat this feeling.

his lips searches for yours and started kissing you messily. his hand gripping tightly over your jaw making you stay still as he devoured your lips. not giving you any chance to pull away, if you even plan on doing so. he bit your lower lip, making a moan errupt softly from it.

“ugh..” lips falls open giving him a clear entrance for his tongue. he didn’t waste any time and let his explores yours, tongues dancing with each other.

sunghoon's a good kisser, very good even. with the lips so perfect it would be such a waste not to put it in good use. your makeout sessions is always great.

but whenever he's so drunk with lust his kisses became so wet and dirty, just how you both love it.

"hmmp-" moan came out muffled because of his lips still attached to yours. a knott started to form in your stomach when he kept hitting the right spots, a sign for yet another delicious orgasm.

“r-right there, hoon! ughn,” you whimpers at the feeling of exploding inside you. “so deep, so deep. fuck.”

he slightly pulls away from your face to chuckle sexily near your ears, nibbling it. "i know baby. hold on," he whispers, and gave your cheek a sweet peck.

his thick brows draws near to each other as he focused to a stable pace that made it even more hard for you to contain your moans. you are starting to see stars from weariness and too much pleasure.

sunghoon just can't stop himself. if you look this hot under him how can he ever refrain himself from burying his cock to your cunt every damn time. you are just so perfect for him, just for him.

"f-fuck, you feel so tight around me... so fucking tight." he growled lowly, one of his hand reaches over your breast fondling it before giving it a suck.

"i'm so c-close, hoon." your grip to his arm tightens.

he gave your sensitive bud one more kiss before he raises his head to look at your face. seeing your face so aroused and so close from passing out just makes him lose his mind. you look so pretty.

"cum with me, baby." and with his command you released. he didn't stopped just yet and leans down to connect his lips with yours.

this time his kisses are slow and more affectionate as he continues to slide his cock in and out of you, painting your insides with his hot cum.

he fell beside you and you're both a panting mess after that. the room fell silent and eye lids are starting to feel heavy, but you are fighting it. this isn’t the right time to pass out here, inside his room. regardless of that thought, none of you said a thing or moved. just trying to go back to your senses after a very intimate and hard fuck.

a phone ringing brought you into your right head space. hearing that it was your ringtone, you pushed yourself up from his bed and searched for your phone in an instant. the space between your thighs hurts a little, but you give it no mind and focused on finding your damn phone.

"jay!" you cleared your throat as you try to sound normal. it felt strained from all the screaming and because of being choked in bed multiple times by sunghoon.

sunghoon sat up from laying down and you can see from your peripheral that he's watching you closely. it made you feel conscious and intimidated, specially now that you aren't fucking him and yet still fully naked. he was always the type of person who makes people feel conscious of themselves. maybe because of his godly visuals or basically everything about him.

you used your shoulder to hold your phone by your ears while gathering your scattered clothes, dressing up in a hurry.

"i just finished my shift, love. where are you? let's meet up and have late dinner." your boyfriend sounded so excited from the other line.

yes, it sounded that fucked up. jay is your boyfriend and you are in bed with someone else. you’re a terrible person.

a string of guilt came into you after hearing his sweet voice. "o-okay, sure! just pick me up at the store near my apartment."

sunghoon stood up and grabbed his sweatpants to wear it. his eyes never left you, he was just silently watching. fighting the urge to talk and ruin something precious for you. he stared with dead eyes, a bitter feeling poisining his whole system.

"alright, i love you too." and ended the call before starting to get your stuff.

he scoffed and put his hand inside his pocket.

"what do you think will my brother feel if he knew you were screaming my name moments before he called you?" he asks taunting.

your jaw clenched and hand hang from getting your coat. it was knife straight towards your chest. and just by thinking about that thought already makes you tremble in fear. you are very much guilty and you know what you've been doing is unforgivable. having him say that was like a slap on your face.

it was wrong to sleep with another men other than your boyfriend, and its even worst that he was his brother. you know this is bad. like fucked up very bad, and yet you just can’t stop yourself from going to sunghoon. you can’t stop falling for those stares and his hot touch. no matter how hard you try to stay away from him, you always go back.

like a moth to a flame, he was forbidden for you. because he’s trouble and he’s bad for you. but just like a moth, you didn’t care. you wanted his fire and so you are both burning, sinfully letting yourselves enjoy the flame you’re never should have shared.

slowly, you faced him and his placid expression was so far from how he looks at you in bed. there was no emotion or anything. just blank.

"hoon, please..." he clicked his tongue at the side of his cheeks before smirking. hearing you beg in bed is one thing, hearing you beg outside of it is another. both have clear effects on him, tho. its driving him out of his mind.

"we already talked about this. we agreed on just casual fucks—" your words hang when he took a step closer to you, making your bodies almost touch. the way your heart reacted with his action like he’s the ownder of it is just crazy.

“you know that's not the case anymore. we both know something else is going on here.”

you teared your gaze away from him, couldn't stand staring at his eyes. it always has its way on you. the way it stares at you just pushed into some kind of trance, like as if you are under his spell.

"i'm leaving." you mumbled and grabbed your bag, but was abruptly stopped when he took a hold of you.

"don't go." his tone almost made you give in, but you know it will just bury you two into the sin that already eating you both alive.

you licked your lips and slowly looked at him. sunghoon clenches his jaw as he stares at your teary eyes. its odd. he never felt this way before. countless girls cried in front of him, but not once did he felt like he wanted to protect them. like he wanted be submit and just lets them have what they want. just you. only you can make him feel like this.

“i l-love your brother...”

stabbed. you are stabbing him straight to his heart, but why are you the one hurting? why does your heart ache for sunghoon? it was illegal enough to sleep with him and it will be even horrible to have feelings for him.

“you do now, huh?” he taunts and tilts his head to the side. the corner of his lips lifts up, eyes not breaking eye contact.

“so what’s this?” he asks, “if you love him why do you keep coming back to me? craving more of me? is that what you call love?” a tear left your eyes when he said those words.

“ahh,” he sighs and acts as if he just put every pieces together. “you love him but the sex is just so boring that’s why you go to me everytime he cannot satisfy you.”

you shoved his hold off of you and shoot him glares. guilty. but you will never let him win like this. jay’s the perfect boyfriend. sweet, thoughtful, loving. everything you wish for a guy to be in a relationship with, he have it. but he seems so sweet and soft towards you that sex is not that thrilling. sunghoon was right. its a little boring. or maybe because you’re just into something else and so afraid to open it with him.

sunghoon’s the complete opposite of his brother. he’s arrogant, a notorious playboy, he’s the type of guy who just a go with the flow, mischievous and always full of himself. he fucks really hard and good too. it slowly became your addiction. the one time mistake was followed by another. and then another. and another. until you had lost count of them.

“what y/n? my sweet brother can’t satisfy you so you come running to me like a slut for my dick—”

“park sunghoon!” the fact that he’s saying all these things just makes you feel even bad. you know he’s a jerk, but it seems like his attitude became worst.

he scoffed with an unamused grin. “what? i’m just telling the truth.” he tilts his head over to the side, smirk growing wider to mask his real emotions.

“he’s so pathetic and boring to the point that he cannot even satisfy his own girlfriend.”

“enough!” you yelled at him.

“you can’t keep this forever.”

“that’s why i’m ending whatever this is right now.” you looked straight to his eyes.

“no you’re not.” his gaze burned at you, jaw clenches as he grabs your arm firmly.

sunghoon wanted to stop himself from saying or doing anything stupid. he isn’t someone who let his emotions control him. when it comes to this game, he’s an expert. he’s never the one to beg or stop someone from cutting whatever this is. he usually just shrugs it off then move to another one.

so why the fuck is he holding you so tight? why does his heart aches so much just by hearing those words from you?

he wanted to convince himself that its his pride and ego that you’re stepping into. that he just really hates losing to his brother. but he knew pretty well its his goddamn heart you are crushing and he’s letting you. sunghoon gave you his heart and doesn’t even care if you stab it until you are satisfied.

you can ruin him. you can ruin everything in him, if that’s how he gets to keep you.

“s-sunghoon,” you resist from his hold which is useless as he was like a stone. its funny how you think you can even break free from him.

he shook his head firmly, “you are not leaving me. no.”

your heart aches and it took everything in you to pull your walls up. the wall you built to barricade your heart to keep it from beating for him.

“i’m so sorry.” you whispered, lips shaking. the words processed inside your mind, but it was too hard for you to say it out loud.

you know it will hurt him and that will probably end whatever this is. it will hurt you as much as it will hurt sunghoon. but you know this is what’s right and you should’ve done that long time ago. before you two gets too attached.

“i love him.”

your words cracks his heart. no, he was already broken. and now that you made that choice, shatters it. his hold from you loosen and it took everything in you to leave him. this is your chance to make things right.

you’re not really yourself while you went back to your apartment to shower and freshen up a bit. sunghoon’s scent are stuck on you, like an alpha male claiming his omega. you shoved him away from your thoughts and just focused on getting ready.

“hi,” you greeted jay with a kiss on his lips after you arrive the restaurant.

he agreed on just waiting for you here since you informed him that you’ll take a while to get ready. this is one of your favorite place to eat and jay always gets you two a reservation whenever you plan to have a date.

“you look tired, love. everything okay?” his worried eyes carefully scan you and strings of guilt once again starts to suffocate you.

a small smile is all you can give him, “just tired from work.” you lied and eyes dropped at the menu placed in front of you.

“did you order already?” you ask trying to switch the topic.

he gently reach for your hand and placed a soft kiss on it, “not yet.” then smiles warmly. his eyes still look worried for you so you tried to assure him that you’re fine.

“let’s order then?” and was about to raise your hand, but he stopped you.

“let’s wait for a few minutes.” then he glanced at his phone.

your brows furrowed, “why?”

he lifts his head and innocent eyes stares right at you, “oh, sunghoon’s around town so he told me he wants to dine with us.”

you can feel your heart thumping hard and ears slowly muffling. shivers and cold sweats runs through your spine.

“w-what?”

he ignored the look on your face and doesn’t take it as a big deal. his eyes shifted towards the entrance and his eyes brightens at the sight of his own brother, walking inside.

“hoon!” he even raised his hand to catch his attention.

sunghoon smirks as he nods his head before starting walking towards your table. you didn’t move and just sat there, uncomfortably. he grins inwardly, watching how nervous you are.

“hi y/n.” he greets meaningfully before sitting at the chair across of you.

you cleared your throat and tries to smile at the man in front of you. just by the look on his face, it was visible that he’s enjoying this very much. he enjoys seeing you so tense.

“hi.” you shortly respond.

sunghoon chuckles before he looks at his brother to greet him with a wide grin.

“it’s good to see you man.” your boyfriend says, very delighted to have a meal with his brother after a long time.

“yeah. same here.”

“you said you want to tell me something?” jay brings up that got you stoned at your position. you hitch your breath as you glance at sunghoon.

jay’s arm rested at the back of your chair and his hand casually caress your arm. it caught sunghoon’s attention and his grin fell for a short period of time. he managed to pull it back and with a clenched teeth he tries to smile.

“later. first, let’s share a meal, shall we?” and he arches his brow sexily before glancing back at you, his words giving a double meaning.

tag-list:

@jeoncarla008 @hongshuaknow

#enhypen #slutofpsh #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen park sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon smut #enhypen sunghoon hard hours

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agent-cupcake · 3 days

Text

Amen

Pairing: Suguru Geto x f! Reader

Synopsis: No matter the severity of your actions, Suguru would never actually hurt a member of his sorcerer family. Luckily, there are other ways he can think of to punish you. It's for your own good.

Warnings: Explicit smut, dubcon, possessive behavior, manipulation

Tags: Punishment, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, dirty talk, vibrators, bondage, orgasm torture, cunnilingus, humiliation

Word Count: 10.4k

Notes: This story is for @laurenzel. I think this can be almost seen as a companion to my previous Gojo story since there's similar toxic motives and means used by the men, but a difference in method.

“Would you care to join me tonight?” was what Geto said to you, smiling so sweetly, so gently. He said it like an offer, or a question, but you both knew the answer. It was the same as it had been since the very first time he asked, since the first time he kissed you, since the first night you spent together.

And you, finally given direction in the big, confusing world, couldn’t even conceive of saying no to Geto. You didn’t have to do, say, or think anything on your own—just follow him. And you did. Happily, you did, thinking nothing of the offer other than how pleased you were that he asked.

Chills prickled over your bare arms and legs when you walked into his room. The air felt a few degrees too cool, especially when you were accustomed to the August heat. Everything about his room seemed cold. It was furnished in stark contrast to the simple, traditional temple façade the rest of the complex maintained outwardly. Black painted walls, a hard floor, and ebony furniture upholstered with dark leathers and suedes. There was a flat, modern utilitarianism to the room despite its luxury, all at once inviting and off putting. The silky black sheets and dusky saturation of velvety vanilla and citrus lent a sex appeal to the room that you inextricably associated with Geto.

“Will you help me with this?” he asked, gesturing to his clothes.

“Yes, of course,” you said, rushing to his side to help him undress. Even though the vestments Geto wore were for show, the articles were genuine and required careful handling. A perfect costume needed to be authentic. You unfastened the kasaya first, hanging it up.

“I think,” he said while your hands were busy, “we need to talk about what you did.”

You paused, turning to him with your brow furrowed, your stomach dropping in response to the accusatory tone of his voice. “What did I do?”

“You killed Kurokawa.”

Your frown deepened, your chest tightening with a harsh burst of guilt. “How do you know that?”

Geto raised an eyebrow. That was the wrong thing to ask, it made you look more guilty than you were. Besides, the answer was obvious. He knew everything. You shook your head fast, trying to come up with an explanation that didn’t sound like an excuse.

“I… I thought you would be happy I took care of him,” you said. “He was causing trouble. He was a bad man.”

“If you thought I would be pleased, why didn’t you tell me right away?”

There were reasons, weren’t there? Good ones, explanations that could help you smooth this over. Beneath the weight of his gaze, you couldn’t think of any of them. “I… I don’t, um… I was going to, but I didn’t want to distract you or anything. I’m not… I didn’t mean-”

“No. You didn’t tell me because you knew you were wrong,” Geto stated, telling you so directly that you couldn’t help but believe it.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

“To be clear, I’m not concerned with his death,” Geto told you. “I’m worried about you. About what you might do without my intervention. I have been for a while.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you said. That was probably the most true thing you could say, the sentiment that defined your existence. You did not understand.

“I like to think that you’ve grown since you joined the family, but sometimes I don’t know if I can trust you to act with a clear head. Kurokawa was a doctor, wasn’t he?”

You bristled at the reminder, mentally pushing back on the idea that you did it for such a personal reason. “He was… he was dangerous,” you argued. “He wanted to get the police involved.”

“That isn’t my point,” Geto explained. “You acted out on your own. I knew Kurokawa was causing problems, but I didn't ask you to kill him. He still had value to me, in his own way." He paused, considering you with pursed lips. "If you told me what you did immediately, maybe I wouldn’t jump to conclusions, but as it is, all this proves is that you haven’t moved beyond your past experiences. I can’t trust you."

You bit your lip, swaying back as if those words had been a physical blow, only becoming more confused. Completely and utterly confused about how killing somebody who was a bad man, killing a hateful monkey upset Geto. You did it for him. You did it because the man was evil, and because he said terrible things, and because he was a hideous embodiment of the type of person who would see you locked up tight in another drug dispensing, mind-numbing, monkey hospital.

All you could understand was that you had disappointed Geto, and the cutting violence of his doubt cut deep into your chest as physically as a knife.

“I’m sorry,” you said again.

“Are you going to finish this?” Geto asked rather than acknowledge your apology, pulling at his collar. You nodded, rushing back to his side to untie the obi sash and fold it, helping him shrug off his black yukata to hang that up as well.

Left in a tight undershirt, a pair of loose pants, and socks he was quick to peel off and toss aside, Geto-sama emerged from his costume looking a decade younger and twice as dangerous. Like this, he was Suguru. You weren’t equals, but you were more than a little familiar. Although, you weren’t sure if you would dare to be so friendly with him now that you understood you were in trouble.

Before, you assumed you were here because he desired you. Now that felt presumptuous and silly.

You averted your eyes and stepped back, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The silence physically hurt. Apologies built up like a dam in your head, stopping any other sort of thought from getting through as guilt brewed and boiled in your stomach. Worse, you couldn’t say he was wrong. Maybe you had knowingly acted against Geto, against the family, because of what Kurokawa represented to you. Maybe you couldn’t be trusted. And, if that was true, maybe you deserved his anger and all of the terrible things that followed anger.

“Are you nervous?” Suguru asked.

“No,” you said quickly.

“Liar. I can hear it. Your heart is racing. You’re scared. Is it me?” He nudged your chin up with the side of his hand, forcing you to meet his eyes and the little smile he wore. “Are you frightened of me?”

“You’re angry,” you said, shrinking back. “Angry with me.”

“Oh,” Suguru hummed thoughtfully, “so you’re scared that I’m going to punish you. Is that it?”

Hesitantly, you nodded.

“You’re right, I am.”

Your breath caught before you shook your head fast, panicking. “No, you… I’m really sorry. I mean it, I was just trying to… He deserved to die.”

“I understand,” Suguru said, “and I appreciate what you say you were trying to do. The problem is that I don’t believe that was your motive. That is why I’m upset.” He ran his fingers through his hair, putting into a messy bun. “Do you understand the distinction?”

You blinked fast, feeling the horrible bite of tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now… what do you think would be a fitting punishment?”

You looked up at him in stark shock, hoping desperately that you misunderstood him. He didn’t clarify anything, simply waiting for you to answer. You shook your head again, your mouth opening and closing before you managed a meek, “I don’t know.”

“But you agree, don’t you?” he asked, going over to his chest of drawers. Suguru looked at you over his shoulder, eying you up and down, drinking your awkward nerves. “You deserve to be punished for your disobedience.”

You exhaled sharply, conflicted about what kind of answer to give. More importantly, what kind of answer he wanted. If you were smarter, you would be able to talk your way out of this situation. If you were better attuned to Suguru’s needs, you would be able to give him what he wanted. If you were loyal, he wouldn’t have been mad in the first place. Those thoughts weren’t helpful, all you could do was stare and try to solve the puzzle of his mood. You had seen that little smirk on his face when he teased Nanako, but also when he killed non-jujutsu sorcerers that had outlived their usefulness.

“You’re really asking me?” you finally got out, the only response you could muster.

His back was turned to you now as he looked through the drawer, but you saw his shoulder raise in a casual shrug. “I’m curious.”

Your gut instinct was to deny that you deserved punishment to try and spare yourself, but you held that impulse. You had already agreed that you did something wrong, so denying that you deserved punishment could make things worse. Then again, if you agreed, then maybe he would take that as permission to do even worse. Either one could potentially upset him too, because it would prove that you didn’t know what he wanted. Suguru did nothing to alleviate your nervous indecision as he turned around, holding an unmarked red box, watching you with that enigmatic smirk.

“If you think I do,” you said carefully, “then-”

“No,” he said, cutting you off. “I am asking if you acknowledge that you deserve punishment for what you have done.”

“I won’t do it again,” you told him, your voice soft. “I promise.”

Suguru frowned. “That’s not what I asked.”

“I know, but it’s true,” you insisted. Rather than relent to your distress, his eyes narrowed dangerously, finally giving you some indication about the response he actually wanted. “I do!” You said quickly. “I…” The words were thick like syrup, awkward to get out. “I deserve to be punished.”

Suguru smiled, setting the box on the bed and sitting on the black leather footboard bench, his legs spread wide and comfortable and head slightly tilted.

“Are you going to hurt me?” you asked softly.

“Hurt you?” Suguru asked, raising a thin eyebrow. “I would never hurt you. I don’t think you’re likely to learn from pain anyway, hm? It wasn’t effective for your parents or doctors.”

“But… but you said you were going to punish me?” you asked, looking between him and the box with an increasing amount of anxiety.

“Take off your clothes.”

Your jaw dropped. “I… My… You mean it?”

He raised both eyebrows, daring you to deny him. You clutched at the front of your dress, your shoulders curling in.

“But why?” you asked. He immediately gave you a pointed look, like you were stupid. “This… it’s… You want to…?” You couldn’t even finish the question, the whole thing was so divorced from any coherence you could wrap your head around.

“You're allowed to say no and leave, I won’t stop you,” Suguru told you. He considered that for a moment, his head falling to the side. “If you stay, we’ll switch to your safe word rather than no. You remember it, don’t you?”

Safe word? You remembered him establishing that the first night he allowed you into his bed, but you hadn’t really thought much of it. Why would you ever want him to stop? Now the thought of it made you feel a little cold, and not because of the air conditioner valiantly chugging away in an attempt to keep the August heat at bay. It had taken a few days to come to terms with sleeping with Suguru after it first happened, but this was unreal in an entirely different way. You felt like you were looking down a very long, dark tunnel, like you were hopelessly and utterly lost.

“I do,” you said faintly. “I remember.”

“It’s your choice then.”

You winced, unable to look at him. You weren’t going to leave. That was unthinkable. The idea of undressing in front of him like it was some sort of show wasn’t especially comfortable either, but you understood that you would do it. “That’s… it’s embarrassing.”

“I’ve noticed,” Suguru said. “You don’t want to think of yourself as the type of woman who would strip for a man. But you are, and you will. For me.”

You flushed darker, avoiding his eyes. Trying to keep your breathing from going completely out of control, you nodded. It was easier to obey. You wouldn’t know what you would do if you left his room right now, where you would go, how you would feel. It wasn’t about you, it was about what you had done to disappoint Suguru, and how you would make it right. He wanted to know that you were loyal, that you had left behind the pathetic wretch you used to be.

Humiliating as it was, he was helping you. That was all he had ever done.

“Yes, sir.”

With shaking hands, you unzipped your dress. Considering the summer heat, you were wearing as little as possible. Three articles of clothing separating you from his eyes. You weren’t sure if that was better, making it so the process of undressing wasn’t so drawn out, or worse because it meant you couldn’t stall.

“Keep going,” Suguru said when you hesitated with your thumbs hooked beneath the waistband of your panties. Closing your eyes, you pushed them down. The only positive you could think of was that you had the foresight to shave the night before. Ever since the first night you slept together you’d been taking personal grooming extremely seriously. Removing your bra was the worst of it all, but you dutifully undid the clasps and pushed the straps down your arms. He had seen you naked before, you reasoned. Even if you were disappointing, he still had asked to see you. It was fine.

If Suguru wanted it, it was fine.

“You’re too pretty to be so self-conscious,” he told you in a very calm, matter-of-fact way.

You tried not to shuffle awkwardly, clasping your hands in front of your stomach to hide their shaking. “Thank you,” you said softly, unable to meet his eyes even if you could feel them heavily on your flushing skin.

“Come here,” Suguru ordered. In your peripheral, you saw his hand raise, a single finger curling to draw you towards him.

You obeyed on awkward feet, glad to close the distance. He sat up to meet you face to face, having to look up at you for once and pulling you closer. You automatically parted your lips to kiss him. That was something you knew how to do. But his parted lips only brushed the corner of your mouth. When you tried to tilt your head to catch him, Suguru pulled back. Your eyes fluttered open—when had you closed them?—to see him smirking at the little trick.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, releasing you.

Nerves knotted and tangled in your stomach. There was something hot about his detached control, but you weren’t sure you liked it either. Vulnerability was discomfort. And still, you knew better than to argue or question. Trying to preserve as much of your modesty as was possible, you got onto his bed. It was easier to comply. Better to be obedient like he wanted. You didn’t want to disappoint him again.

“These are for you,” Suguru said, finally revealing the contents of the red box by lifting the glossy lid.

You stared into the box with curiosity, and then with a sharp pang of recognition. After that, nerves. Dread. Excitement. Blinking over and over didn’t change what you saw, there was no mistake about what lay inside. A lot of leather. Some chains. Scarf-like ties. You were pretty sure the wand-shaped item was a vibrator.

Suguru choked you last time you had sex, and he pinned your wrists down and pulled your hair and left marks on your thighs and chest, but this was different. Dangerous. This was scary.

“Geto-sama…” you said nervously, sticking to the formal address in the hopes that he would understand the sincerity of your doubt. “I’m not…”

“As I said, you’re allowed to stop this at any time,” he said, dropping the lid back onto the box with a crisp snap. “I would never force you into anything. If you truly feel bad for what you have done and want to prove yourself to me, I shouldn’t need to coerce you.”

Guilt and nerves writhed in your stomach. And excitement, always excitement for the simple reason that it was Suguru. You would do anything for him, wouldn’t you? He had saved you. You disappointed him, it was only right that you did as you were told. You pushed the lid off again, forcing a sort of resolve. Your heart beat like a frantic war drum in your chest, and you were flushing so hotly it felt like a fever.

“What’s this all for?” you asked, your voice hoarse.

“You won’t be able to hold still on your own,” he replied simply. “Besides, I think you’ll look sexy like this. I was waiting for an opportunity to try it.”

The bottom of your stomach gave way to anxious lust. You licked your lips, trying to calm yourself down.

“Okay,” you said softly.

“Put them on for me,” Suguru said, pulling out four of the leather cuffs. Your eyes widened, your lips parting to argue that as a step too far. It would be so much easier for you if he did it himself, if you didn’t have to actively engage with putting yourself in a literal bind.

Although maybe that was the point. This was punishment.

Prove your loyalty. You could do that for him.

Despite your forced mental affirmation, the whole task seemed too daunting for a moment, you had a nervously suffocating sense like drowning, but you forced that down. You would do anything for Suguru. That’s what this was about. Proving to him that you were loyal, that you would do as he said. That you were devoted.

You did the wrist cuffs first, slipping the first over your left hand and tightening the strap with your right. There was only one size; they would fit snugly. Thick chains hung from both cuffs. Although they weren’t as bad as pure metal bracelets, the leather wouldn’t be kind to your skin if you resisted too much. Tightening the strap on the right cuff was even worse since you were working with your non-dominant hand.

“Do you need help?” Suguru asked, laughing at your frustrated attempts to get the tongue through the buckle.

“Don’t laugh, please,” you begged, talking very softly to hide your increasingly unstable emotions. “I’m trying.”

“Here,” he said indulgently, “let me.” Suguru held out his hands for you to let him finish securing the cuff. “Do you need help with your ankles?”

“No, I… Thank you,” you said, unable to look at his expression. You could do this. You had to do this.

Still, your hands trembled unsteadily. When you nervously fumbled with the leather strap around your ankle, he laughed again.

“Don’t look,” you mumbled. The chains hanging from your wrists playfully clinked against the chains on your ankles.

“I have to make sure you do it properly. You could hurt yourself.”

“It’s embarrassing,” you whispered, more petulant than anything.

“I know,” Suguru told you sweetly, “but you’ve been such a good girl so far.”

Your breath caught at the praise. At the very least, he looked away to pull off his shirt. You used the distraction to get your ankles secured, watching him remove his pants with your hands between your legs to retain some modesty. Suguru, stripped to his boxers, surveyed your handiwork, a little smile growing on his face.

“What?” you asked nervously.

“Given how shy you are, I thought it would take more than this to convince you to do this for me. I don’t know if I’m disappointed or impressed.”

You frowned with a twisting sense of betrayal, but he cut off your displeasure by grabbing your legs to yank you towards him, leaning over the bed so he could kiss you.

Before Suguru, you hadn’t really understood what the point of kissing was. It was an act of affection you mirrored with others because it was what people did. When Suguru licked your lips open for himself, you understood. Any touch of his body against yours had a potent effect, but the openly intimate domination of his tongue against yours, his fingers slipping up your hair to tilt your head, the hand on your bare waist, it was enough to clear your mind all over again. Igniting the purest type of motivation—lust.

You wanted to show him your devotion. You wanted him to know you were sorry. You clung to his shoulders, hoping he could feel it.

All too soon, Suguru pulled back, his lips hovering inches from your own. You tried to follow, but he held you in place by your hair.

“I’m impressed,” he said, answering his comment from before. “I admire your dedication. I only wish it extended to your actions. I can’t trust you until I know you obey me.”

“I do,” you said. “I…I will.”

“Not yet.” Suguru didn’t wait for your response, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips, your cheek, and then tilting your head to whisper in your ear. “Move back. I’ll take care of the rest,” he told you, his husky voice making you shudder.

“Yes, sir,” you muttered so softly you wondered if he heard you. When Suguru pulled away, you scooted back to sit in the center of his bed, waiting and watching with equal parts nerves and anticipation. He picked through the red box again, pulling out another set of leather cuffs and a bundle of those silky scarves.

“Open your legs,” he ordered in a business-like voice as he joined you on the bed, crawling up to you and readying one of the leather straps. The sudden shift of tone surprised you, throwing you off all over again.

“What’s that?” you asked nervously. He gave you a sharp look and you relented, opening your legs. Being exposed so brazenly made your skin crawl, but he paid no attention to your naked body, wrapping the strap around your thigh and fastening it, repeating the process on your other leg.

“What is it that the monkey said to upset you?” Suguru asked casually as he tested the straps for give, deeming them satisfactory. The conversational tone burst your bubble of rose tinged intimacy, sending your thoughts back to unpleasant places. “I assume something set you off.”

“I… um…” As if revealing a magic trick, he unwound a length of the red scarf-like fabric, distracting you from a question you hadn’t really understood in the first place.

“Or did he try to attack you?” Suguru pushed, neatly doubling the scarf and pulling it around your back. He had to sit close as he blindly tied the knot and the cashmeran twilight scent of his skin filled your senses, you held your breath when he pulled away just to keep it close for a moment longer.

“Have you done this before?” you asked as he wound the scarf around your chest and shoulders with a practiced hand, searching for a distraction from the embarrassment.

“Does it bother you if I have?” Suguru asked.

“No, sir.”

He had to lean forward again to fasten the final knot on your back. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said softly. “What happened?”

You winced. “He called me delusional. He said I’m just a… a bitch in your harem, and that I’d go down with you.”

“I see,” Suguru said, pulling back, his expression impassive.

“I’m really sorry, Geto-sama,” you said.

“Are you worried he’s right?” Suguru asked, his voice so saccharinely sweet it had to be mocking.

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

“You are special to me,” Suguru told you sweetly, petting your hair.

“You’re special to me too,” you said, eager to try and express your adoration. “Very, very special.”

“I’m doing this because you’re so special to me. I can help you grow, and help you move on. I can show you the benefits of an honest life without the petty influence of the weak, but I cannot force your obedience. I need you to choose to listen to me, to obey me.”

“That is my choice,” you said.

“Haven’t you heard the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words’?” Suguru countered, revealing the final trick of his little magic show. The chains on your wrists connected to those on your ankles with a few inches of slack, your ankle cuffs connected to the straps on your thighs, and the loose ends of scarves from the harness he had just finished tying were threaded into the D-rings on your thigh straps. Unable to balance upright, you rolled onto your back, fully exposed and unable to do much of anything about it. “This is your chance to make amends.”

Suguru put his hand on your bare chest, right above your racing heart as it beat against your ribs. “You’re scared again,” he said. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. Do you not believe that?”

“I’m just…” you squirmed uncomfortably, unable to articulate what you felt. You didn’t know what you felt, couldn’t figure out anything beyond the intensely physical embarrassment and the panicked disquiet of being bound and exposed.

“You know what to do to make this stop,” he pointed out, his hand dragging down your chest to your flinching stomach. “Just say the word, and I’ll let you leave.”

Suguru told you that almost like it was a joke. He was daring you to use the safe word and stop him, to show him that you weren’t as devoted as you claimed. His hand reached your pelvis and you whimpered, your hips wiggling in an undecided way. Did you want him to touch you, or were you nervous for that part? You couldn’t tell. The feelings were the same.

He finally dropped over you, both of his hands resting on your ass before brushing up your thighs, pressing them further apart as he kissed you with an open mouth. Suguru’s tongue urgently met yours, teasing enough to invite your active and enthusiastic participation. To show him how much you wanted him. Of course you did.

With a surprising bite on your lower lip, Suguru left your mouth to move down, licking and kissing his way across your jaw, following the line of your neck. He stopped there, sucking hard right above your pulse until you shuddered hard, making a soft, helpless noise. Your hands anxiously jerked, but all that did was snap the chains taut. Taking his time, his hand trailed down your thigh, his fingernails scraping the skin, until he reached your pussy.

When Suguru’s fingers made contact with the sensitive flesh, you yelped, and he bit your neck hard enough to draw that yelp out into a pathetic keen. Your attempt to free your hands so you could push him back served only to pull your legs open wider.

“Was that too much?” Suguru asked, lightly tracing your slit.

“Hurts,” you said, your breathing hard and fast. He chuckled warmly, finding your clit and tracing little circles over it, just teasing. You whimpered.

“You don’t mind, do you?” He asked, his lips brushing your skin as he moved down your chest.

You made a choked, conflicted sound in your throat, any coherent response leaving your head the second his mouth closed around your nipple. Electric pulses of pleasure zipped down to your core, made that much more intense by the fingers on your clit. Suguru added more pressure against it, the weight sweetened by the friction of his calloused fingertips. Your hips rolled into the touch, your back arching for every delicious movement of his tongue or teeth on your nipple.

A hoarse wail left your mouth when he released you with a wet pop, moving to do the same to your other nipple. His fingers were truly grinding against your clit at this point. It wasn’t the sweet enticement of pleasure, but a brute force motion that guaranteed you would come fast.

You whined and moaned and shuddered, fighting the restraints. Sweat slicked up your skin, chafing beneath the restraints as you jerked, your body going taut to prepare for the sudden orgasm. You managed a choked, “I can’t, I can’t, I-” And then that tension snapped. It was good, but the rush was too fast and fleeting, fizzling itself out before you could savor the feeling. All it really did was make you want more.

With another lewdly wet pop, Suguru pulled off your nipple and sat up, his hand retreating from between your legs. “How did that feel?” he asked.

You swallowed, nodding fast. “‘s good. Tha-aa-nk you, sir.”

“It’s interesting to me how much more sensitive girls are after coming,” Suguru said, teasing you with his fingers lightly tracing over your slit. “It’s almost obscene. Men need time, but you already want more, don’t you?”

You shuddered, panting and flushed. “Yes. Yes, please.”

He smirked, although you couldn’t say you really understood the joke. Your entire body twitched, the chains clinking, and he licked his lips, looking at your flushed body like he was eying up a meal.

Your eyes squeezed shut when he ran two fingers from your entrance, dragging a smear of slick arousal up to your clit.

“No, don’t close your eyes,” Suguru said, beginning to draw patterns over your swelling clit. “Look at me.”

You nodded, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze despite how overwhelming it was to be watched while he touched you so intimately. You squirmed, inhaling sharply through your teeth, already feeling the tantalizing build.

“What about you?” you asked. “You don’t have to, um… um…” Blinking fast, breathing hard, your words scattered like dust and you felt the same tightening in your core, the sparkling promise of release. At the exact moment you were about to come again, Suguru pressed his hand flat between your legs, denying you that final push over the edge.

Whining and desperate and so, so close, your hips bucked upward, desperate to come again. It was already too late, out of your grasp. “Geto-sama, please, I was-”

“No,” he said simply.

“What?”

“No. I’m not going to let you come again. I’ve already given you one more than you deserve.”

“No,” you whispered, horrified. “You… You can’t.”

“No?” he repeated, his fingers tracing your clit slowly, with the barest amount of pressure. “You remember why I’m doing this, don’t you? I’m punishing you.” He pressed more intently against your clit. Unable to comprehend denial, your body began the process of drawing up tight. “You need to learn to be obedient. You have to learn to take whatever I see fit to give you.”

“I am,” you gasped out. “I do, I-I will, I’m…” Your back arched, your arms and legs falling aside as if to make an offering of your body in the hopes that he would let you come this time. “I’m sorry that I… that I did that,” you babbled, your pussy tightening around nothing as your body got ready to come. “I’m really… really… I’m-”

Suguru stopped just when you were on the precipice again, tapping your folds as if to mock your need. You squinted at him, your chest hitching a heavy breath, tears pricking your eyes. “But I said… Oh…” You didn’t finish what you were saying, too distracted by the slick slide of his fingers inside of you. So good. You swallowed hard, your cunt squeezing his fingers desperately as his fingers curled, dragging against your g-spot as they pulled out before thrusting forward.

“If your words meant anything, you wouldn’t need to be punished in the first place,” Suguru pointed out, although you weren’t paying very close attention, your body awkwardly trying to roll into his fingers as they slowly fucked you. He touched your clit with his other hand, once again ensuring that you would come quickly.

Too quickly, really. The intensity of pleasure shocked you, especially since you were so sensitive, desperate for more. “Please, can I… will you please… Please?” you begged, your animal need curbed slightly by fear.

“You should know that no other man will do this for you,” Suguru said. “No one else will ever care for you the way I do.”

You nodded fast, knowing that was the truth. No other person in the world had ever been as kind or compassionate to you as Suguru. Nobody had ever wanted you, or made you feel important, or given you purpose. You loved him. You felt that affection swell alongside your building orgasm.

He would let you come this time, he wasn’t slowing down. His fingers made a sickening wet schlick as they pumped in and out of your pussy, working in time with the finger on your clit. You were there, your body taut and ready and desperate and-

A wail escaped you when he stopped at the last moment, your entire body jerking in desperation to reclaim your ruined orgasm. As soon as it was gone, he returned to touching you in the same way, vigorously chasing you back to the edge and abandoning you seconds before you could get off.

“Please,” you begged.

“I told you no,” Suguru reminded you, adding a third finger to pump and curl into your pussy as if to punctuate the cruel statement. You were off the edge now, but your body still stupidly strove to take more pleasure. You blinked tears, confused and needy and trembling, your breathing shallow.

“Why?”

He didn’t answer, he didn’t need to. The touch on your clit had you throwing your head back, your nostrils flared and teeth clenched. Chains clicked together when you tried to free your arms, but it was a fruitless struggle. You didn’t want to respond to his touch in the same way, you needed a reprieve, but there was no escape. You were sensitive. Your body remembered coming once, and that was enough of an incentive to try to get more.

“You can always stop me,” Suguru said. “If it becomes too much.”

“It’s…” you told him, although your attempt to seem brave was weakened by your breathy, pathetic voice. “I’m… I can take whatever you give me. I’m…” You sobbed, overwhelmed by the drag of his fingers against your g-spot. He barely had to put any pressure on your clit, it was so swollen beneath his teasing fingers. “Please, sir. I just… Just one, please?”

“I already let you come once,” he reminded you, amused.

You moaned miserably, your head tossing back and forth as you readied yourself for another orgasm. You hoped that maybe if you could just come before he noticed, then that would be enough to soothe the horrible ache, the fearful deprivation he kept stoking to a blaze.

It was there, right at your fingertips, on the tip of your tongue, and Suguru hummed happily when he suddenly pulled his fingers out of you. You shouted, thrashing against your bindings. They all held, keeping you helpless beneath him.

“Please, I… please.”

“No,” Suguru said, slowly pushing just one finger into you. You sobbed when he used it to massage your g-spot. Not giving you any real pressure or weight or friction, just that constant reminder of the pleasure you had been denied.

“I can’t,” you said tearfully, straining to get more out of that single finger like a starving woman being thrown crumbs.

“You can,” Suguru told you. His word was gospel. It didn’t matter what you thought.

He pulled his finger out before you could get too used to it, only to return with three. You choked, your body jerking hard enough against the restraints to hurt, suddenly thrown into high gear as he properly finger-fucked you, bouncing your entire body.

It didn’t matter that he wasn’t touching your clit, you could get off just on this. Your body was thrumming with denied pleasure and you wanted it so bad you could scream.

“Yes, yes, please, yes—No!”

You were properly sobbing this time when he stopped, almost horrified by the intensity of your body’s disappointment when his fingers pulled out. You had no idea how he was getting the timing so perfect, but it was worse than if he was just hurting you. Suguru shoved his fingers into your open mouth while you were still reeling, smearing the taste of your pussy onto your tongue. You didn’t need his instruction to suck on them, hoping that the display of thoughtless obedience would earn you some leniency.

“Good girl,” he cooed, pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth, almost enough to make you choke. When he pulled them out, he didn’t linger, kissing a line down your stomach. Your arms fought the restraints when you realized his intentions because you weren’t sure you could handle feeling his mouth on you like this, not if he was going to keep denying you.

“No,” you whined. “Please, I… I can’t…”

“Yes, you can,” Suguru said calmly, not even bothering to look up at you.

A heavy, almost guttural moan left your mouth when his tongue licked past your folds, tossing you right back into the abyss of lustful need. All he had to do was brace his forearm across the backs of your thighs and you were unable to do anything, your trapped arms and legs twitching, your feet kicking uselessly into the empty air, the chains connecting them to your wrists clicking.

Suguru was good at this, switching between flat-tongued licks and pointed patterns, closing his lips around your clit until you were choking out these pathetic little chirps, your body reacting in a way entirely out of your control.

And when you were there, right at the very edge, he pressed a kiss to your clit and looked up at you from beneath his dark eyelashes.

You sobbed, throwing your head back in a childish display of disappointment.

“You’re alright. Breathe,” Suguru said.

“Please,” you begged.

Suguru hummed as he lowered his head, shaking it side to side with his tongue flat against your clit. Your toes curled, your hands forming pathetic fists.

It didn’t take much to build you up all over again, your entire body was wired and ready. You didn’t think you had ever felt so aware of yourself. Your skin, your pussy, your heart, your body, everything crackled and blazed. What was he doing, drawing kanji with his tongue? You didn’t know, but it felt amazing. You chased that feeling knowing you shouldn’t, thinking that maybe this time, maybe if you were fast enough. Maybe, maybe, maybe-

“No, please, I just wanna…” Suguru’s tongue stilled and he pulled away, watching you fall apart at yet another denied orgasm. “No!”

He casually pressed two fingers into you, massaging them against that spongy spot with a wet squish that was beyond obscene. “You know what to say to make me stop,” he told you.

“I know,” you said, wishing you could cover your face, wishing for some point of sanity here in this lust-mad haze. “I don’t want… Please, Geto-sama, I just wanna come, please.”

“Oh?” he said, his other hand returning to rest on your pelvic bone to playfully tease your clit. “Do you think you deserve that?”

“I…” You tried desperately to figure out the correct answer by looking at his expression, but you couldn’t tell and his hands kept you distracted. Deserve didn’t matter, all you could think was that you wanted to come. “Yes?” you said, hoping very much that was the correct response, practically praying for the torment to end. His fingers slowed and you let out an embarrassing little keen. “Ah… No, no I…” His expression still didn’t change, leaving you scrambling. Your chest hiccupped with a sob, your confused spiral boiling down to the pit of desperate need. “I don’t know.”

Rather than respond, Suguru’s head lowered between your legs once more to tongue your clit in time with his fingers. You felt a hot rush of hope that you got something right, that he was finally going to let you come. Your entire body surged towards the feeling, going so stiff that it made your trembling muscles ache.

And there, right on the edge, he stopped. You didn’t have it within you to do anything other than cry, openly weeping at this point. If he were only teasing you it would be one thing, but he was purposefully working you right up to the edge and then abandoning you there. It was the feeling of being unable to sneeze amplified to a million, that torturous feeling of almost.

“I’ll do anything, please,” you told him, your voice coming out broken.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t before?” Suguru asked. You opened your mouth to argue, only to realize that it didn’t matter. Nothing you said or did mattered, you were helpless to him. You had already surrendered everything else, the only thing you could do was obey and hope for his mercy.

You understood. He didn’t want you to beg. He wanted you to obey. To be good for him without question.

You could do that.

Suguru pushed his fingers back into you, repeating the whole process of working you up and abandoning you again. And again. And then he added his mouth. There were several times in your life you’d been pushed to the absolute brink of sanity, and right then you were convinced that you were going to go mad. But you grit your teeth and endured it. You had to. This was your punishment, and Suguru would decide when to end your misery.

You had to be good for him.

Had you ever been this wet? Swollen too, all of your blood flowing dangerously hot between your legs. It was disgusting, your pussy was sloppy and red and he barely had to touch your clit at all to build you right up to that edge. And it was just as easy to let you fall, disappointed and unfulfilled and growing increasingly, painfully distraught from the denial.

You beat your fists pathetically against the bed, hitting your head into the pillow like a madman. Air puffed out of your chest fast and hard enough to make your head spin, like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room.

Rather than continue the torture, Suguru grabbed your chin, dragging you out of your spiraling haze. His fingers were slick from being inside of you. You met his eyes through a veil of tears. “Have you had enough?” he asked, his voice wavering with a parody of pity. “I’m worried you’re going to hyperventilate.”

You blinked fast, trying to gather the coherence to respond. “I can… I can take it,” you told him with a miserable sort of resolve, your voice thin and breathless.

Suguru smiled. “Really? And if I said I intended to leave you like this, perhaps to go find a way to fix the mess you made?”

The thought was enough to make you sob. His attention was torturously uncomfortable, but being completely denied any resolution, being left bound and soaking wet and electrified with unfulfilled need, you almost would have rathered he hit you.

But you nodded, forcing yourself to accept it. Anything less would be to reject his authority over you, right? It would make you seem less loyal. “Anything,” you whispered.

“Ah, that look in your eyes is wonderful,” he cooed. “You mean it, don’t you?”

You nodded insistently. “I love you,” you told him, speaking without thought, saying it because it was true. “I’ll do… I’ll do anything.”

“Okay, I’ll let you come,” Suguru said, releasing your face so his hand could wander back down between your legs.

You made a weak noise, your body unconsciously jerking, straining towards him.

It was pathetic, he barely had to do anything, simply brushing his flat fingers in light circles over your swollen clit. And that was enough. Fear flooded your insides alongside the same frantic, hot rush of pleasure. All of your muscles contracted in a mass of sore, shaking muscles and bestial desperation because you were afraid he would stop again, afraid that he would deny you and there would be no recourse other than pathetic acceptance.

“Please, please, I-I love you,” you plead, your voice whispery, rough and desperate, borderline incoherent.

And he didn’t stop.

That wet, hot snap of release was one of the best things you had ever felt. You convulsed, chains clicking and leather chafing against your skin and his name spilling from your lips over and over. He worked you right through the orgasm. You were crying again, sobbing and shaking and sticky hot. It felt good. It felt like forgiveness.

“Another?” Suguru asked. Your eyes had been shut, but now they opened to see his smile.

You just shook your head, lacking the capacity to respond.

He didn’t wait, pushing three fingers into you while teasing your clit with his other hand. It forced your body through a surprisingly uncomfortable rubbery mixture of overstimulation and mindless need. It left you feeling like an elastic band being stretched and stretched. In spite of that feeling, a few solid, harsh pumps later and you were coming again, your pussy squeezing his fingers to keep them there while he worked you through it. There was very little drama to it, you were already wrung out. But it was good. Hot and wet and good.

Suguru didn’t stop. You fought the restraints, wanting to move, to writhe, to get more comfortable, to take some control back because you needed a moment to collect yourself.

“I really-” It was hard to speak. Hard to form the words. Hard to get them out. “Oh God, I—ah.”

Almost painfully sensitive, the rough pounding of his fingers against your g-spot started to register as too much. You fought the restraints, a different sort of panic setting in. To keep your body from rejecting the pleasure of his touch, Suguru doubled down against your clit, pressing a little harder. You had been starving, but now you were splitting full from the assault pleasure.

“Too—oo much,” you got out through your teeth, although it probably didn’t seem like it was too much when your back was arching accordingly, your pussy clamping down around his relentless fingers, that coiling buildup of release reaching its apex.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, your fingers and toes clawing helplessly at the sheets as you came, practically choking on the hot feverish intensity of your orgasm.

“No, it’s not,” Suguru told you. His fingers slowed at least, and then pulled out. It wasn’t much of a reprieve, he immediately shuffled down the bed so he could situate his head back between your thighs.

You hissed, tensing up, your arms jerking against the restraints. Your clit was too sensitive for his tongue, he had to understand that. “You… You don’t… Have to,” you got out, your voice unsteady from how hard you were panting. “I don’t need-”

“Don’t worry,” Suguru said sweetly. “I’m not doing this for you.”

The wet, warm patterns he drew on your clit with his tongue sent you into a sort of delirium. No matter how sensitive you thought you were, it was intoxicatingly good. He focused entirely on what made your hips try to jump, what made you moan and whine. When he slipped two fingers into your pussy at the same time, you felt ready to lose it entirely. You were falling apart. Splitting at the seams. You came with a harsh cry, Weeping at the fizzling heat of pleasure.

Suguru didn’t stop. He just hummed and flattened his tongue and kept going, forcing you right past that sickening few seconds of sensory rejection and towards another orgasm. You could do it. You focused on that because even if you weren’t entirely sure you wanted more, you wanted to be good for him. How ungrateful would it be to not come when he was kind enough to eat you out?

Covered in the sickly shine of sweat and shaking so uncontrollably that it felt like the world itself was trembling, you came again.

When he was content you were done, Suguru stopped, pulling his fingers out with a final brush against your g-spot to make you whine, your body mindlessly writhing. He sat up, brushing back strands of sweaty black hair with the back of his hand.

You wilted in place, closing your eyes to focus on your breathing while he messed with something else. It was hard to collect yourself, but you could already tell that you would be sore tomorrow.

Hearing the shift of fabric, you opened your eyes to see Suguru remove his boxers. Despite your messily deteriorated state, the sight of his cock roused enough of your mind to focus. He was hard, the red-flushed head bobbed as he casually stroked himself which might have been for your benefit. Despite the sensory overload, your pussy tightened in anticipation of feeling him inside of you. If he fucked you and you did good enough to make him come, then you would be done. That was, at the very least, an end goal. One more thing you could endure for him, and then he would forgive you.

Suguru looked down at you with a fond smile, an expression that seemed more than a little cruel when he was stroking his dick, when he knew fully well that you were painfully oversensitive and this would make it that much worse.

“Should I make you beg?” he asked warmly, tapping the head against your painfully sensitive folds. You whimpered, squirming. You weren’t entirely sure you wanted this, and he probably knew that, but maybe that was the point. It didn’t matter, you wanted him, you wanted to be good for him, and that superseded every other thing you felt.

“Please, Geto-sama,” you begged, defaulting to the formal address because you needed him to accept it, because he was your lord and master in every way except by name, because you adored him and worshiped him, and you needed him to understand that. “Fuck me, please. I’m yours.”

“So vulgar,” he said, sliding his cock up and down through the wet, sloppy mess he’d made of your pussy. “I wonder what happened to the sweet, innocent girl you used to be.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head. “Please.”

“I’m kidding,” Suguru told you, bracing one hand on your thigh to force your hips to curl while lining up his cock. “Aren’t you going to beg?”

“Please-”

“No, no. Look at me.”

You forced your eyes open, forced yourself to look up at him through tear-covered lashes. “Please, Geto-sama. Please, I’m yours.”

It was nothing for him to push in. You were wet and eager and it felt good. The feeling of his cock popping past the initial barrier of muscle and driving deeper into your pussy was one of the most uniquely pleasurable sensations you had ever felt, no matter what the context. It gave you the sort of fullness nothing could replicate, physically grounded you in a way nothing else ever had.

Since you were watching, you got to see his expression slacken into one of pleasure. Your pussy fluttered and squeezed, just making room for him.

You gave up keeping your eyes open as he drove himself even deeper, throwing your head back to just take it, to ignore the discomfort of his cock grinding against what felt like raw nerves. Suguru braced his hands on your thighs as he rocked his hips, taking his time.

“What does it feel like?” he asked.

“Good,” you said quickly, your tongue feeling loose like you were drunk. “So… So good.”

“I want to feel you come again,” he said. “You don’t mind, right?”

Your eyes fluttered open in confusion, shutting when he suddenly snapped his hips forward. “I can’t,” you whined. “Not again.”

“You can,” Suguru told you, grinding his cock as far into as he could, pressing as deep as possible, deep enough to make you whimper and writhe. Could he feel that? Could he feel the way you were shaking all the way down to your bones, feel the way your heart raced and fluttered and skipped?

And then you heard it turn on. When you heard the buzzing, your brain was wildly scattered enough that you thought it was an electric toothbrush which made no sense whatsoever. When he pressed the vibrator directly to your clit, you yelped, trying to buck it off but only serving to grind yourself into his cock.

A few little circles with the thing against your clit was all it took for you to choke, your body seizing up with another orgasm. You were acutely aware of the way it caused your cunt to squeeze and suck his cock, coating it in a fresh wave of arousal as he pulled out, making a horrible wet slap when he thrust back in.

Suguru groaned, keeping the vibrator directly on your clit as he chose a slow, steady pace.

“I can’t,” you tried to tell him, squirming and writhing with renewed vigor as your body started to tense up to come again. You couldn’t stop it and of course it felt good but it was too much, almost burning. You could handle it. If you came again it would hurt, especially coming with his cock grinding so persistently into your overly sensitive cunt.

“I thought you were being good,” Suguru said, rewarding you with a heavy, harsh thrust that made you wail. And another. That sent you over the edge, whimpering and shaking and incoherent with the overwhelming influx of heat and tingling overstimulation. Like the brittle snap when breaking a glow stick, or taking a crisp, juicy bite of an apple. It should have been good, but all you could feel was the wet, helpless violation of something ruined.

Suguru moaned openly, driving himself deep enough for his hips to slap your ass with each heavy thrust. Your head whipped from side to side, the only form of protest left to you. He kept moving the vibrator to make sure you didn’t get too accustomed to any one type of stimulation. It was torture. Horrible torture. You wouldn’t have thought coming could be so agonizing, and yet when you drew up for another sharp, shuddery orgasm you couldn’t recognize it as anything else.

“Is this better or worse than before?” Suguru asked, his words stuttered with each hard thrust.

“I don’t… I can’t…” You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t do anything except convulse and cry and come. Again.

You didn’t understand.

“You don’t know?” he asked, breathy yet amused. “You’ll have to—to tell me later.”

The problem was that you had no place to think. You were too full. Suguru continued fucking you hard and steady. All you could hear was the slick slapping of wet skin and that infernal buzzing. There was so much weight behind every movement, like he was trying to batter his way into your womb. Each thrust was followed by a whimper or moan or cry. And the relentless vibrator against your clit. It hurt. It burned.

“I don’t… don’t…”

“You’re… not done,” Suguru told you, his voice heavy and breaking with exertion. “Come again.”

You weren’t sure if you were actually crying anymore, or just sobbing and panting and so sweaty it felt like you were crying. You couldn't form any coherent words, or even incoherent rejections. So you obeyed, the taste of blood on your tongue and stars dotting your vision, your pussy burning and inner walls pulsing around his cock as you came again. Suguru groaned, his lovely lips parted and eyes closed.

“One more,” he demanded. “Just… Just one… More.” That word was punctuated with a hard thrust and an especially cruel grind of the vibrator against your overstimulated clit. There was no point in saying no, or even believing it wasn’t possible. He knew more than you did. You didn’t know anything.

With a miserable whine, you came again, although at this point it felt like there was just a long, helpless flow of overstimulation marked with waves of overbearing heat, and then your pussy tightened around his cock and it dragged cruelly against your g-spot, and that was all you could manage before you were tossed back into the mindless daze of agonizing excess.

“Even though it hurts, you’re…” He didn’t finish that breathless thought, although his amused smile went away when his hips suddenly stuttered and he fell forward, his forearm resting by your shoulder.

Mercifully, Suguru shut the vibrator off, letting it fall somewhere to the side, bracing his other arm on the bed next to you as he sought his own end. Your arms and legs fell to the side, slack except for when your muscles spasmed or jerked. Every thrust added to the relentless cycle of too much, especially from this angle, you could feel the way your body worked itself up to come again, responding to his pleasure as if it were your own.

“Geto-sama… Suguru please,” you begged and there was a chance he couldn’t make out that you were attempting to form actual words, but even with your sanity fraying at the edges from his torture, you wanted him to come. You wanted to know there was a reason for your complete unraveling, that you had a real, good purpose, some sort of justification to exist.

Suguru forced your knees all the way up to your chest, pushing his cock as deep as possible as he came, working himself through it with shallow thrusts and these intoxicatingly sexy stuttered moans. Distantly, beyond the hellish, sweaty shell of your shaking body, you had the distinct thought that everything was worth it just to hear him moan like that. Just to be rewarded by his pleasure. Because you loved him. Because you belonged to him. Both of you were flushed hot and disturbingly slick with sweat and it hurt for him to be pushing so deep. Out of all the little cruelties he had subjected you to, the fact that you were unable to hold onto him like you wanted was one of the worst.

When Suguru pulled out, that hurt too. Every part of your body hurt. He left you to fall bonelessly limp onto the bed, rolling around to lay next to you.

In the relative quiet, your ears rang with a tinny discordance, paired with the engine roar of rushing blood. Your tongue was sandpaper in your mouth—little wonder, you had no idea how you had any liquid left in your body—and your limbs hurt from being stuck in the bound position for so long, but you couldn’t say you wanted to do anything to fix those things. As soon as the severity of those discomforts occurred to you, so were they carried away by the lapping tide of exhaustion. You felt like a sponge that had been squeezed dry. That’s probably what you looked like too.

“I didn’t expect it to be so… Difficult to contain myself,” Suguru mused softly. You didn’t respond, marveling at his voice. It was very nice. So soothing and smooth. Perfect, just like every other part of him. “It’s wrong, but necessary. You never learned the right way to live, I have to guide you. Otherwise you could hurt yourself. You could hurt our family.” There was more conviction in those words, like he was trying to argue against a point you hadn’t made.

Even if you were to be unbound, you wouldn’t dare close your legs. You couldn’t feel his cum slipping out, maybe you were too swollen. That would explain the painful heat.

“I wish I didn’t have to make my point like this,” Suguru continued. “But I'll do whatever it takes for you to get it.”

Mute confusion was the only thing you had left—you were barely aware enough to listen to what he was saying, let alone divine any meaning from the words. Your body hurt and you were thirsty and sweaty and tired. You didn’t think anything. You couldn’t do anything. You couldn’t say anything. It wasn’t even confusion, it was just pure exhaustion.

“Ah, you’re a mess,” Suguru said, sitting up. You groaned in disapproval when he started messing with the straps around your thighs, taking them off. Without the harness's support, your legs dropped limp onto the bed. Still, you didn’t move. You couldn’t fathom moving. “Hey,” he chided, “don’t go to sleep.”

You grunted unhappily.

“Will you open your eyes?” Suguru asked, touching your fever-hot cheek. After a second, you did, meeting his gaze with your own dazed, blank stare. His expression was tender, you thought. So kind, so sweet, so gentle. “I need you to listen to me now, hm?”

You made a sound to show that you were listening, looking up at his beautiful face with a marveling sort of adoration. Suguru really was beautiful. It was little wonder so many people thought he was a holy man. He undid the chains keeping your hands and ankles connected, letting your arms flop lifelessly into the sweaty sheets.

“I forgive you,” Suguru told you, his eyes scanning your body slowly, taking in the sweat and the reddish flush and the twitching, trembling of your muscles with some kind of affection. “But, and I need you to remember this,” he continued, his eyes returned to yours, “next time you disobey me, it will be worse.”

Worse? You couldn’t imagine worse. The idea of worse made your eyes sting, panic threatening to crawl back out of the abyss of your exhaustion to send you into a fit of tears.

You blinked and swallowed against your dry throat. “I’ll be… be good, I promise,” you said in a voice that was little more than a hoarse croak.

“Shhh,” Suguru shushed softly, brushing your damp hair off of your sweaty forehead. “Don’t be scared. Everything I do, I do because I love you. You are precious to me, you know that, don’t you?”

Those words worked like ether sweet anesthesia through your head and you believed him, loved him, trusted him. He did this because he loved you, and because you needed to learn. Of course. That made sense even if nothing else did.

#geto suguru #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen geto #geto suguru x reader #jjk geto x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #my writing #tw.dubcon

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munsonsmixtapes · 2 days

Note

Virgin!Eddie X Experienced!reader where Eddie has a wet dream for the first time and calls (reader) for a little bit of help 🤭

Ooh, yes! Thanks so much for the request, lovely!

virgin!Eddie x experienced!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) Eddie receives a handjob

Rain pattered against Eddie’s trailer as he tossed and turn in his sleep. His thoughts were filled with nothing but you and he could stop seeing your naked body and the way your back arched in pleasure as he pounded into you. Your hands leaving bright red scratches down his back as you screamed his name as he said the most filthy things in your ear.

He jolted away at a loud clap of thunder and checked to see that he had in fact had a wet dream about you. He had dreamed about you so many times, but he was always able to care of it. But tonight, he didn’t want to. He wanted you to do the job for him. He wanted more company tonight than just his hands.

Eddie turned onto his side to face his bedside table and stared at his phone, contemplating giving you a call, but it was three in the morning so he was sure that you were asleep. He was desperate, but not enough to bother you while you were sleeping.

Maybe he could text you. That wouldn’t be too disruptive, right? He was just going to text you and if you didn’t reply, he was just going to have to rely on his stupid hand to get the job done. But the thing about his hand was that it wasn’t pretty and didn’t compliment him when he made a sound that was particularly hot. And his hand didn’t snuggle him after the show was over, telling him what a good job he has done.

Eddie reached over and grabbed his phone and opened up the text thread he had with you before going through your conversation before debating if he was actually going to say something. Before he could stop himself, he quickly typed out something before throwing his phone across the room.

Are you awake?

He got up onto his knees as if he could see the screen from there and felt his heart race in his chest as he waited for a reply. God, why did he do that? He should have just left it alone.

His phone pinged and he launched himself across the bed into the floor, flipping the phone over to see that you had replied.

never thought I’d get a you up text from you

What’s up?

My dick, he thought, but he thought that was too to the point.

Can I come over?

There was no way that he was going to fuck you with Wayne being in the other room, so your apartment was going to have to work.

You replied instantly.

You don’t have to ask, handsome! That’s why I gave you the key, remember? 😉

He honestly couldn’t believe that you had trusted him enough with a key to your apartment. Sure, you had been at this for months, but he didn’t think that your relationship (if you could even call it that) was at that stage. But still, he took the key found himself staring at it from time to time, knowing that you’d let him come over any time he wanted.

You had given Eddie the key months ago and this was going to be the first time he actually used it. His excuse was that he didn’t want to potentially walk in you while changing but you both knew that you couldn’t have cared less. His real reason was that a key was a big step in any relationship, and he wasn’t sure what ever was going on between the two of you, but he liked it. And he was trying to convince himself that he didn’t want your relationship to progress just because he was sure that you didn’t want it to. He knew for a fact that if you asked him to be your boyfriend, he would have jumped at the chance.

Eddie threw on his shoes out the way out the door and raced across town to get to your apartment. He had memorized the way, no longer needing his phone to get him there since he had come over so often.He had never come over so early in the morning, though, and he was grateful for the lack of people on the road so he could get to you sooner.

Eddie pulled up to your building and the elevator ride to your floor was agonizingly long as it slowly took him up to your floor. Once there, he got to your door and unlocked it, letting himself in.

The place was in a bit more disarray than usual with a few dishes in the sink and appliances that took over the counter that were usually neatly tucked away. But that didn’t surprise him since you didn’t really have much time to clean up. And Eddie didn’t think he could talk because he could barely see the floor in his own room.

He moved through your apartment and knocked on your door which you opened in a flash. You let him inside and he couldn’t take his eyes off of the baby pink silk lingerie nightgown that showed off your body very nicely.

“Hi,” you greeted him with that petty smile and he thought he could just melt right there where he was standing. Seeing you in that outfit, he really was going to need all the help he could get.

“Hi,” he nodded and stepped towards you, his hands, gripping your waist, pulling you to him. “This is a nice little number.”

“Really? You like it?” Were you kidding? Eddie swore he was going to cum right there just by looking at you. The dress stopped right at the middle of your thighs and the cups of the top were always sheer and he could see how hard your nipples were. It was driving him mad that you both weren’t already naked.

“Fucking love it. You’re so hot it’s unfair.” Eddie was really good at compliments. He somehow always knew exactly what you wanted to hear and never failed to tell you how much he liked the way you looked. He was just so sweet and you really wished you could have him b

“You’re hotter,” you told him, your hand moving up so you could twirl some of his hair around your pointer finger.

“Impossible. There’s no competition,” he leaned forward so that his lips were right by your ear. “But if there was, you’d win hands down,” he whispered before bringing your earlobe between his teeth and giving it a soft bite before pressing his lips to your jaw. He pressed open mouthed kisses to your skin until he got to your lips, pulling you in for a bruising one.

It was messy, teeth and tongues getting in the way, but you eventually figured it out, your lips slotting together like two perfect puzzle pieces. Your hands gripped his jaw roughly as you moved his head, trying to get more of him, beginning him to open his mouth as your tongue swiped along his bottom lip.

He opened up and you slide your tongue into his mouth, letting the muscle swirl around his as you both moaned in pleasure at the feeling. You felt Eddie’s boner against your stomach and pushed down his pajamas pants and underwear, giving you a full view of his cock.

“God, I need you so bad,” he whined and you shushed him, trying to get him to calm down.

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.” You reached for some lube and covered your hand in the stuff before giving his length a few slow pumps, causing him to let out a loud moan, as if it was a sigh of relief.

“God, feels so good.” His fingers dug into your hips as he threw his head back, shutting his eyes tight as euphoria coursed through him.

Eddie’s hands slide down and pushed up your dress to remove your underwear only to find that you weren’t wearing anything.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he told you and you bit your bottom lips as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Thought it’d skip a step.”

Well, that was very nice of you.”

You continued to move your hand back and forth, picking up the pace as you did so, wanting him to feel as good as you had a few nights ago. Once he had reached his climax, you removed your hand and you pushed him down onto the bed before reaching into the pockets of his jeans before pulling out a condom. You ripped open the packet before rolling the thing onto his dick.

You then climbed onto top of him and settled yourself onto his cock, both of you moaning at the sensation as you did so. Out of all the times you and Eddie had hooked up, he had always been on top, but this time, you felt like you owed it to him to let him be on the bottom. You took no time and bucked your hips into his, grabbing onto his shoulders so you’d have more control.

“Fuck, so good, baby,” he whined and you couldn’t stop thinking about hot he looked underneath you, his hair splayed out onto the mattress. His lips so pretty and pink and kiss bitten. His eyes shut as he made the prettiest sounds, it was all so euphoric.

“You like that?” You asked, moving the hardest and fastest that you could and he came completely undone underneath you, his hands scratching up and down your back, leaving bright red marks.

“God, love it, baby. Could let you ride me all night.” You could definitely make that happen, especially since he was being so sweet and complimentary.

“Oh, I intend to.” You continued to move at the same speed and you both moaned and whined and whimpered at every little move, being nothing but vocal about how much you were enjoying your time together.

If you were being honest, Eddie could have been the only man you ever fucked for the rest of your life and would have been content. You’d never tell him, but you’d hadn’t even slept with anyone else since that night at there club and you were going to continue to hook up with him until he got bored of you. They always got bored of you.

After riding him for what felt like forever, you both climaxed and did the proper things to clean up before climbing into your bed, snuggling up in each other’s arms, your naked bodies pressed together.

You stared at Eddie as you stroked his hair, wondering why he always came back. Most people would have kicked you to the curb by then, but it seemed like the never got tired of you. He was such a gentleman and you couldn’t believe that he had given you the honor of taking his virginity in that club all those months ago.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #virgin!eddie munson x experienced!reader #virgin!eddie munson #experienced!reader

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nervoussagittarius · 3 days

Text

bikers backpack

matt sturniolo x biker!reader

summary: where matt’s girlfriend is a biker and at first matt is scared for her until he realizes it’s actually an attractive hobby, request

warnings: fluff, a little angst, language

“matt! guess what!” you exclaimed as you ran into his room. unbeknownst to him you had just bought your second motorcycle. your dream to own a kawasaki ninja bike had finally come true. you’d been saving up money from different odd jobs you’d done to be able to afford it.

“i finally bought my 4- stroke, six speed, metallic gray ninja 650.” you could’ve almost cried with excitement. matt knew this day was coming. he knew your love for bikes and as much as it made him anxious he couldn’t help but feel that twinge in his heart everytime you got this excited around him. in the two years you guys had been dating your hobby had only gone on in one of them.

your fascination for motorcycles steamed from the long line of harley riders you had in your family. growing up around the vehicles only made you want to learn to drive them more. on your 18th birthday you went out and got your motorcycle license it wasn’t until a year later that you got your first bike. it was a beat up motorcycle with over sixty thousand miles that you bought off of facebook marketplace, but it was your baby. you rode it everywhere and took such good care of it.

matt on the other hand hated the fact that you drove motorcycles. he was supportive in everything you did, as you were for him, but this was the one thing he couldn’t get behind. he was always a so worried about you because of how dangerous it can be. he barely liked being in a car. the idea of being on a bike with an engine made him sick.

matt looked up at you hesitantly. he didn’t want to make you upset, but he couldn’t find it in himself to jump for joy at your words like you did. “that’s cool, y/n. i’m happy for you.” his smile didn’t quite meet his eyes and you could feel the coldness in his words. you didn’t want to have another fight about the fact that you liked riding bikes, but you also didn’t want to feel like you couldn’t share your accomplishments or things you enjoy with your boyfriend. “can you at least pretend to care?” you questioned harshly. your words caught him off guard.

“i don’t care? really?” his tone changed. you could tell your words hurt him, but neither of you were ones to back down from a conversation like this. matt continued, “i care that 72 out of 10,000 motorcyclists experience a crash. i care that 80% of motorcycle accidents result in injuries or death. i care that california has the second highest number of motorcycle fatalities. i care about what matters so sorry if your upset that i’m not thrilled about your new purchase.”

choosing not to argue with him you simply backed out of his room and left his house. you felt like matt didn’t trust you. you knew the statistics but you were always so careful. you wore a helmet and protective gear. you never rode by yourself, you always had at least one other biker with you. you took all the necessary precautions so you didn’t know why matt wouldn’t listen to you about this. you would give him a chance to cool off and maybe bring the topic back up at a later time. you wanted him to know how you felt but maybe it was better to do it at a time where you both were more level headed.

later that night, after having a conversation with chris about how it’s your life and not his, matt felt like he owed you an apology. both you and chris were right. he was focusing on the wrong things. all he wanted was for you to be happy but him being negative wasn’t going to help you achieve that. matt made his way over to your house ready to talk, but as he pulled down your street he couldn’t help but notice you in your driveway ready to leave on your new motorcycle.

pulling up next to you, he couldn’t help but feel attracted to the sight in front of him. you were always beautiful, but for some reason his body gave him a different response to seeing you next to your bike. “what are you doing here?” you questioned as matt got out of his car, your voice barely above a whisper. “i came to apologize. i was wrong to get upset like that. i should’ve been more supportive because i know how much you enjoy this kind of stuff. so i’m sorry.” his words meant a lot to you. you had been feeling extremely discouraged since you left his house so you needed to hear this.

before you could even respond matt threw out, “also, i want to go on a ride with you.” to say you were shocked would be a complete understatement. “you want to go on a ride?” “yep.” you looked at him in denial. “a ride on a motorcycle?” he just responded with a nod and a smile.

“are you sure because you really don’t have to. i really appreciate your apology, but i don’t want you to do anything that’s going to make you uncomfortable or anxious.” you quickly said.

“no i want to, sweetheart. i think some exposure therapy would be good for me, and to be completely honest you look so good right now, you could probably get me to do anything you wanted.” he sent you a wink as he came over and put his hands on your waist. matt tilted his head down slightly so you guys were eye level before pressing his lips to yours.

you never thought you’d see the day where matthew sturniolo was putting on a helmet and was willingly getting on a motorcycle. not that you were complaining though. you put your helmet and gloves on, “are you 100% sure you want to do this?” you asked. matt flipped the visor of his helmet down and gently bonked his head against yours. “get on baby let’s go.” he said pulling you hand.

and with that you sat in front of him with his arms wrapped around you, and you went off on your memorized path to where you planned to meet up with some of your friends that also ride. it was safe to say that after the first couple minutes matt enjoyed himself. he took notice to you attention to the world around you, which he appreciated, and he was happy to know more about the hobby you loved so much. matt was now your personal backpack

an: this is shorter then normal but i haven’t written in a couple weeks so i need to get back into it. i thought this was cute though and i hope y’all enjoy

taglist: @maryx2xx @norr1ssturni0lo @recklessmatt @luvr4miya @hpyjw @unbruisable @watercolorskyy @elliewrites1 @rheaasturn @slxt4matt @mmay4ever @aurizp

#nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo imagine

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undercoverpena · 2 days

Text

13. hello yellow

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter thirteen of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 4.3k (she became a biggie) chapter warnings: reference to anxious!reader. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: this is the one you've been waiting for... .

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

It grows on your tongue on a cooler morning—the birds having only just begun chirping, the sun really only just rising. But he's there, truck parked outside as he brings you coffee, for no other reason than just because.

It's almost hard not to say the three words.

They thicken in your throat when you surprise him at work, having already spoken to Harry, asking if you can steal him for an extra half an hour. His face brightens, practically illuminating when he sees you at the register. It continues to do so when you take him back to the place where the two of you had lunch, his face beaming.

You’re not sure how the words don’t escape there and then.

There are a bunch of moments saying them could have been right. It would be so easy to let them slip out, but then he'll say something that makes you laugh, or his phone will go off and the conversation shifts, and you wait a little longer.

But you don’t just want right, you want perfect.

Just like him.

You know how we love Harold?

Yes?

He might have recommended me to a friend of his for some paintwork.

This sounds like a good thing, yet it feels very bad for me.

The only date the man can do is the day I said we’d go to the beach.

If this isn’t you asking me to come and help you be your a-paint-tice I’m going to be really let down.

You want to come paint a man’s house with me?

I want to do anything with you, Butterscotch.

It vibrates from two rooms away—buzzing, buzzing, buzzing.

Your feet rush for you, socks almost making you a health hazard as you round the corner from your bedroom to the hallway. A laugh trying to escape from giddiness as your palms press into your off-white walls, before using it for leverage to continue.

Moving, almost running, not looking where you’re going, only realising at the last second when your foot collides with it.

Pain.

It pulses and makes tears spring to your eyes instantly. The hurt is more than radiating, it erodes, grows and pounds.

Fucking toolbox.

Hand grasping it as you half-hobble to the little side table where your phone almost topples off.

Butterscotch <3

A caller ID that usually brings an immediate smile to your face, and still, even as you clutch your foot in your hand and drag your finger across the screen, it somehow still does.

“Hey, I’m almost there—did you want lunch in or out?”

Stuffing a wince down your throat, you blink back fresh tears as your thumb presses down on a particular spot. “I need to show you something but maybe out?”

“You okay?” No, you want to hiss—wanting to add extra O’s and everything. “You sound off?”

Swallowing bitterness, you try to smile as you lower your foot—putting some weight on it as you suddenly become warm, and uncomfortable.

“Rainy?”

“Butterscotch, I bet you’re one street—you’re literally pulling up.”

You swear you hear him grin. Almost being able to tell even from the way he puts his vehicle in park that his smile is growing into his cheeks and cascading over his eyes. It makes your own appear, somehow rising to the surface and kicking its feet furiously to appear.

By the time you’d end the call, quickly check your foot inside your sock and put it back in place, your eyes catch his coming through your front door. Letting in amber streams of sunlight that paint across the hardwood in warm, honeyed hues. Bringing in warmth, a calmness, the pain suddenly non-existent when you see him slide out the key from the keyhole—the one you’d told him to keep, the one you’d give him, told him to use.

The sight pulls at something inside of you, making it easier to smile, to beam as he closes it behind him and walks himself up to you—mouth pressing to yours. The taste of coffee and mint flooding your mouth, your fingers full of his curls as his hand presses to your lower spine—bodies flush, his keys clanging in the air.

“You know I think you’re beautiful,” he whispers, teeth teasing your bottom lip before releasing it with a pop. “But, baby, what are you wearing?”

His hand slides down the plastic, water-proof full-body overalls you have on. It rustles, making your skin even warmer when he takes another long look at you, and laughs.

Not a giggle.

Not a quiet, hidden and disguised laugh. A full-on roar of laughter.

“I got it for next week,” you exclaim, heat rising up your neck. “You told me I’d need to wear something that would cover me—wanted to make sure it was okay.”

“Baby, I meant not your romper—'cause you’ll get paint on your legs. I didn't mean a… hazmat suit?”

Folding your arms, you take a step back, face scrunching in a wince you’re not sure he notices as you roll your eyes before turning on your heels to change. “I’m new to this.”

“I know, I know,” he says, trying to stifle his laugh, hand reaching out. “Baby, wait, I’m sorry. Okay? You just don’t need—fuck, Rainy. I can see your ass through this.”

“No, you cannot.”

“I fucking can.”

Letting him pull you into his arms, you shake your head, stupidly unable to stop yourself from grinning, before his lips brush over yours. Your nails digging into the t-shirt on his waist, mouth parting as he eases you back, a grimace hidden against his tongue as his knee nudges between your plastic-covered thighs.

“Frankie,” you whisper, it leaving your tongue like a whine.

He only hums in response, it vibrating against you, fingers tightening in his curls as his knee rises that bit more, friction so readily there, easily able to rock your hips if you so want to. Until it rustles, furrows, a noise so unsexy you feel him slowly grin against your mouth.

“Can’t believe you just wore underwear under this,” he teases, dropping his knee.

Your breath finds your lungs with more ease as you roll your lower lip between your teeth, admiring him, unable to stop ogling the man who is very much all yours after the position he just had you in.

“I should change before we go out for lunch,” you mumble. “Before I flash everyone.”

Moving away from him before he can stop you, you let out a groan as your bad foot flattens, unable to hide the misstep. Hearing him call your name, you're quick to wave him off. Digging your nails into your palm as you take (what feels like a thousand) steps until you’re unzipping the ridiculous plastic, all-in-one, and begin yanking drawers and doors open until you’re standing in something more appropriate for lunch.

Half-closing your bedroom door behind you, you don’t need to call for him, you know where he’ll be. Finding him exactly where you expected, tape measure in hand—right in front of one of the office windows.

“Thought you could do that in your head.”

Snorting, shooting you a look over his shoulder, he grins. “Wanna make sure I’m exact.”

“For me?”

“For you.”

Leaning against the frame, not obviously showing you’re taking the weight from your now pulsing foot, you try to smile. Listening as he begins telling you about getting something for your windows, instead of thinking how you should ice it, get him to wrap it, maybe ask him—politely—if he’d put his fucking toolbox away between visits before you actually break something.

Somehow, you hear enough to follow what he’s saying, about how blinds would help, that they’d give you more daylight while also shielding you if you wish to work in the dark—they’d be more flexible, modern. He could help you fit them.

And it dawns on you, that while you've had it in your head about curtains, this is a thing you should have thought of yourself.

A thing which feels so obvious now he’s said it that it irks you that you haven’t. Because blinds would be better. Digging a hole in you, making you feel silly, stupid, and foolish—

The realisation makes you pinch your forearm and take a deep breath. You re-centre yourself, thinking about the one image that inspired all of this, imagining it with blinds instead of what had remained fixed in your head, hung and stuck.

The problem with desiring something inspirational is that it isn’t always tailored to the person who desires it. To you, who will be using the room. Yet, Frankie has thought of you—like the considerate, beautiful man that he is.

“From your face, you don’t want blinds?” he asks.

Your mouth opens, before closing. Putting some weight down as your eye narrows in pain—it floods through you as you try not to frown. “It’s not that—I just thought curtains. Thought I preferred the way curtains look, is all.”

Frankie shrugs, staring out of the window, before glancing back. “Curtains it is then.”

“But, blinds do make sense.”

And you can see it, the way he chews his tongue—the way he swallows words he wishes to say. It flares something within. Rolling his head on his shoulders, and scratching the back of his head, he smiles.

“But you want curtains.”

“I did.”

“Then have curtains.”

He’s being nice—that’s what you remind yourself. He’s being kind and thoughtful. He’s taking what you’re saying and giving you exactly that.

Yet it feels… bad.

It makes you all of a sudden not want it—anger bubbling, trying to grow wider in your stomach. Instead, wanting him to tell you that you should have blinds, for all the reasons he’s listed, because it makes sense. They’re practical, and easy; it’ll block the sun out if it’s a bright day. They’ll even look modern; following the theme of the room.

And the fact he isn’t reminding you of that makes you mad. So much you feel it clawing up your throat, all ash and brimstone; flames and bonfire.

But you’re not mad at him. You’re mad at yourself for not looking. You’re not mad at him, just his toolbox. You’re not mad at him. You’re mad—

It repeating. Swirling. Shifting around the imaginary plug hole in your head as you wait for it to fall through and douse whatever it is that is brewing inside of you.

“I didn’t think of it like you did, so let’s have blinds.”

“It’s okay, it’s really—”

“But, they make sense, Frankie. You just said so.”

Jaw tightening, he hides his annoyance with a smile. “But, baby, you don’t want blinds, so let me just measure for—”

Standing straight, unable to hide the miniature sob from pain, you follow it with: “Stop being nice to me.”

He blinks. Both at your tone and the words that snap through the air as your palm pushes against your forehead, hoping to quiet it, the simmering anger that bubbles and thickens like soup.

“Rainy—”

“You don’t… I’m not broken, Frankie. Sometimes we can just… disagree. You can tell me I’m wrong.”

“I know that.”

He says it so quickly, all with a colder edge to his words. Ice threatening to wrap around them, freeze, as they go to land, pellet. Bruise against you.

Tilting your head, you stare at him—knowing you should stop. Remove your finger from the metaphorical scab. “Do you? Because ever since the other month you’ve been… extra nice.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“It is when I’m furious with you,” you snap, it’s out now, you think.

Chest tight, things unfurling and uncoiling, flames ripping through you as though all the emergency doors have flung open and allowed it to breathe through every part of you.

“When I’m mad that I tripped over your toolbox again because you didn’t put it away. Because you likely did something nice for me and forgot. But now I’ve really hurt my foot—”

“—Baby, why didn’t you—”

But you ignore him. Not even waving him off, just continuing, “—and that I can’t decide if I want curtains or blinds and yet you make a very good argument for blinds that I hadn’t considered and you always do that—have amazing ideas, great insight, plus, you seemingly know me better than I know me, which is so lovely, but I'm mad at myself for not thinking of it. But, you, you didn't do that, because you understand me.”

“Is this a bad thing?”

No, you think as your mouth jams shut. Staring. Blinking. Because of course, it isn’t. It’s just that it’s never been something you’ve had, never experienced, never thought could possibly be given to you.

A thing that you both love, so much, but also feel is going to be ripped from you at any moment. Better not to have it, than lose it. No skill to prepare for this level of care, so used to having to make decisions and choices and have no one offer to help.

But he’s not going.

He’s standing, hands at his sides, line between his brows. Confusion trying to crawl over him and lather his features, but he seems to be fighting it, stopping it. His eyes somehow remain soft even as your mouth hands open, more words set to spit and fire—

“I need. I need a moment.”

And you don’t wait for the okay or the sight of his face falling.

Just moving, hurrying. Feet trying to carry you through to the kitchen as your palms use the wall as a crutch to do so, finding a counter to rest on, to lean on, to breathe against as thick, uncontrollable tears begin to paint your cheeks. Whether from the pain or the fact you’d snapped. Unable to hold them back from rumbling out when your forehead presses against cool wood as you take breaths in and out, in and out.

Doing so until the pain dries on your cheeks and you’re merely resting, taking the moment you said you needed before you hear him clear his throat. Before he asks if he can come closer and if he can look at your foot, two things you quickly nod for—wanting to take it back, apologise, even explain. Instead, you let him aid you up onto the counter, slide the sock from your foot assess it and turn it, finger brushing over your skin as light as a feather as he asks does it hurt here, or what about here?

It makes your heart flutter.

Makes it even harder not to blurt three words at him, when really he deserves a chorus of them for what in the hell just happened. So, you lead with:

“I’ve decided that I don’t like fighting with you.”

Snorting, he picks up the sock from the floor, easing it slowly back over your toes. “It’s not my favourite thing we do together either.”

Smirking, you stare down at him. Watching him. “I don’t want you to think I’m fragile. That’s all.

“That you can’t challenge me just because of what happened the other month. Because it’ll happen again. But I can still make choices, you can still tell me I’m wrong—sometimes, I need you to tell me I’m wrong, because if you agree with me all the time, you won’t push me to be better. I’ll just stay stagnant, and choose curtains when I really think I’ll regret it and want blinds.”

Standing, he places his hands on either side of your thighs on the counter, letting out a heavy exhale as he looks at you, as he stares from eye to eye, before whispering your name. The one which sounds so kind in his mouth, that sounds like it matters—that it holds importance and weight, even if you prefer Rainy.

“I don’t think you’re fragile,” he whispers as you slide your hand over his, watching his eyes soften, heal. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I did.”

Half-smiling, you nod. Eyes searching his, waiting to see if the lie appears when he blinks, whether it spreads out like paint touching water and if it makes his truthful eyes murky. But it never comes. Instead, his hand cups your cheek, in a way that centres you and makes you only want to look at him.

Exhaling, he smiles. “I just don't want to make you choose something you don't want. That's all, baby.”

Eyeing him chewing words, weighing up whether it’s worth it to speak them or let them slide back into the crevice they slithered from. Because it’s painful, maybe far too much truth for him, can see it in the way it makes lines appear across his face, as though it’s fracturing him to remember.

“I wasn’t really mad at you.”

Slowly, a grin breaks out. “Yes, you was.”

“Okay, a little bit, but it wasn’t your fault. So, I’m sorry. But I am mad at your toolbox, it really hurt.”

“I’ll be sure to tell it.”

Narrowing your eyes, you slowly part your legs, tugging on him to move between them, wrapping them around his waist as he shyly smiles. “Been thinking.”

“About how you now want curtains again?”

Pinching him, hearing him hiss, you smirk. “Too soon, Morales. No. I’ve been thinking that the cupboard closest to the office door.” He hums in response, it vibrating against your collarbone as he kisses it. “Think that’s where your toolbox should live.”

You feel him grin against your skin, blow warm air in an exhale against it. “You making room for my tools now.”

Lifting his chin, nose bumping against the tip of his, you mirror his smile. “I want to make room for all of you, Frankie.”

“Yeah?”

Pressing a peck to his lips, you wipe your thumb over it. “Yeah.”

Babe, what is the attire for a kid's soccer match?

Comfort. It’s a lot of standing at the sidelines and hopeful cheering.

So knee-high socks and tight shorts are a no?

Fuck. That’s a fucking image.

Help me, because what I’ve Googled isn’t helping me.

I have a spare shirt you can wear.

Does it have Morales on the back?

It actually does.

Frankie, did you make adult versions of your son’s soccer team kit?

Does it make me lame if I say yes?

No, it makes me want to ask you if you can grab me fifteen minutes earlier so my mouth can show you how not-lame that is.

You'll be pleased to know I've sent the email and I am no longer working with 'prickly-puta', as you so lovingly called him.

I'm really proud of you. You okay?

I'd be better if I could celebrate with you, but I can wait.

How would you want to celebrate?

You sure you want to know?

Always, baby.

Well, I was thinking about showing you my power tools.

Maybe even using them? Letting you see what I do with them. It's very different from what you do with yours.

You there, I can see the typing bubble keep popping up.

Give me ten and I can video chat.

Oh no, you don't get an advanced preview. Might let you listen though.

Fuck me.

That's what I'd be saying if you were here right now.

You don't mind that painting ruined the beach because the rain is unrelenting.

The grey of the day filters through the bare windows, spreading itself as far as it can as Frankie prepares the second room of the three the two of you were set to do.

You don’t mind the sound of rain; you never have. You find it peaceful how it cascades down from the drains and runs in marathons down the glass. Right now, the sound trickles in through the open window, while the room is suffused with the scent of fresh paint from the kitchen, mingling with the aroma of the third pot of coffee Frankie’s been brewing.

Even if he doesn't admit it, you swear he's only making as many so he can take a moment to kiss you. To run his hands over your waist and slide them over your romper-covered ass—

“Have I told you how good your ass looks in this?”

Sipping your coffee, tasting each note of it, you reply, “Twice, actually.”

“Not enough then.”

Between acting like teenagers in a stranger’s home (including him leaving a large handprint firmly on your denim-covered ass), the paint goes on in thick strokes. You cut in, trying to match the rhythm of the song playing out on the radio—a game only you are playing to distract yourself—because the sight of Frankie using the roller is ruining you.

Unable to stop staring at the way his arms flex with each motion; how his shirt stretches out across his back to the point you're not sure how the threads haven't ripped.

“Want to see the colour for this room?”

It’s a serene shade of yellow, reminiscent of a summer’s day. It'll brighten the room, glide nicely over the old, smothering secrets and old stories, offering something new. Fitting, you think from the drive over when Frankie told you the situation.

“It's perfect.”

“Isn't it?”

Arm around his waist, fingers stroking up and down his side. “Did you pick it, Morales?”

Shyness breaks out then, smile lopsided, eyes averting before whispering, “Maybe.”

You made a note to tell him later what an eye for colour he has.

Dipping the tip of the brush in the paint tray, you swipe it against the corner where two walls meet, finding his eyes on you again.

“Stop marvelling at my paintwork and focus on your own, Morales.”

“S’not your paint skills I’m staring at.”

Smirking, you look over your shoulder at him, nose scrunching. “Who knew watching me paint was your kink.”

You like the sound of his laugh mingling with the yellow on the walls. It makes you smile wider, a thing you find yourself doing each time you refill your paint tray as torture him with your terrible singing.

The only other noise is the rain, the clink of a paint can and the rustle of plastic drop cloths as the transformation happens before your very eyes. It’s not even dried, and it already looks far better than the cigarette-stained walls and palm-covered handprints you hadn’t wanted to guess why they were there, yet had done all the same.

“Maybe he’s measuring how tall he is with his hands.”

Frankie snorts. “What if he wipes his dirty hands on the wall? Finishes his food, wipes. Gets something on his finger, wipes. Has a sticky hand—well.”

You’re about to tell him not to finish that thought, when the radio plays the beginning notes of something that steals your attention.

It hooks in the corner of your lips and drags it up your cheeks as the familiar melody of an old favourite drifts from the speakers, wrapping the space in a cosy embrace—both taking you back and rooting you here in a new memory.

You try not to, but you can’t help the movement in your hips. The way you begin whispering—hushed voice mingling with the music, filling the room with a gentle, attempted harmony as your pitch gets higher, and higher.

Then, you're swaying to the rhythm, lost in it, catching a glimpse of Frankie out of the corner of your eye as he leans against the doorway, arms folded across his chest, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

There's something in his eyes, you can see it. A tender look, one that makes your heart skip a beat.

But you close your eyes, and let the music carry you away, your voice rising and falling with the lyrics as they spill from your lips effortlessly. Opening your eyes at the bridge, finding him still watching, in awe, gaze unwavering.

And there's a softness there in his expression that you've never seen before, a quiet intensity that takes your breath away. It's as if the world has faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in this sunshine-filled room, back-lit by a horrid stormy day.

Yet, it feels perfect.

More so as you begin to sing to him, unable to stop staring as he takes a step closer, eyes never leaving yours. His fingers slide under yours, taking the tray and brush from your hands, placing it aside as his smile widens, eyes crinkling at the corners, looking at you as if you're the most precious thing in the world.

“What?”

He reaches out, gently brushing his knuckles on your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “I love you,” he murmurs, his voice soft and steady.

For a moment, the room seems to stand still.

A flicker of something sparks inside you. Those same words have been so close to your tongue for days now that you almost need to pinch yourself to see if you've really heard them.

But, you know you heard it. The declaration hanging in the air, weighty and profound, making the actual music fade into the background, you swear time itself pauses, allowing the enormity of his words to sink in.

Frankie slides his arm around your waist, still smiling, tugging you closer—a thing your body gives with all but ease. And he repeats it. Those three words.

This time, your heart skips a beat. Emotions swirl within you like a tempestuous sea. One that calms under the stroke of his thumb as your fingers wrapping around his wrist, drawing a soft shape there.

“I love you too, Morales.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, a grin breaking out like the sun on the walls. “I’ve been in love with you for a while.”

Then you hear it, the velvety, smooth sound of him saying good, as he kisses you to the last notes and chorus of an old, but new favourite song.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #frankie morales #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #jo: dmy #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

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lynk-zee · 2 days

Note

how do you think a fight would take place with lads boys? like how it progresses and then silent treatment and the yearning to make up and actually making up

Fights

Warnings: Angsty with a blip of spice in Rafayel’s part. Happy endings because I don’t want to be sad anymore 🥲

Fights with Zayne are almost always about your health. How you’re not sleeping enough or eating right, despite the advice he gives you. He may be your boyfriend but he’s also your doctor. He just wants the best for you.

The silent treatment starts on his end, giving you one worded answers and generally ignoring you. If you didn’t care about your health, why should he? Except, it would progress worse and worse because you’re both stubborn-headed, to the point he decided to go home instead of staying over at your place like usual. It was then you conceded defeat.

Yes, he was worried about your health and safety, as both a doctor and a boyfriend. But he didn’t have to be so right…

In the end, you guys come to a compromise. You’ll get a normal amount of sleep, and he’ll lay off scolding you. Fights with Zayne aren’t without valid reasons. But, you guys always end up talking it out in the end.

Oh boy. Fights with Rafayel? Explosive. They’re mostly because of his flirty nature and the fact he can’t seem to take anything seriously. As a Hunter protecting Linkon City, you have to be steadfast and vigilant. Rafayel takes things by the moment with little thought or control, like a dumpster on fire. It gets worse when he brushes you off.

I think the fight wouldn’t officially start until you get back at him for being overly flirty with a patron. You decided to flirt with an art critic in front of him, fueling the fire for a later fight. The night continues with petty passes and glares across the room. When you get home, all hell breaks loose.

Screaming match, barely coherent, words that couldn’t be taken back. It’s a wonder you guys are still together. When you tear up and finally had enough, you grab your coat to leave when he grabs you by your shirt and yanks you in for a smoldering kiss.

Makeup sex ensues. Clothes are practically burned off as you vent out your frustrations through each others bodies. In the morning your both groggy, but have a clearer head than last night, able to talk things through more effectively. He loves you and you love him— your love can be too fiery for your own good. But that doesn’t mean you don’t try to work through it.

Fighting with Xavier can be hard because he genuinely doesn’t understand why you’re so mad at him. Yes, he disappeared for a week without telling you, but he was hunting Wanderers. Isn’t that such a noble cause that it negates the fact you were mad at him in the first place? Turns out no, because you want to be communicated with and not scared half to death when you don’t hear from him for a week.

It’s hard to stay mad at him, but you have to stay strong. If this relationship was going to work, he needed to communicate with you. You laid down your boundaries now it was his turn to understand and accept. But until then, silent treatment.

Xavier would end up at your door looking like a kicked puppy. It had been four days into the silent treatment— how did he like that? Not being communicated with, pacing back and forth wondering if your partner was safe? It wasn’t fun, huh? He would apologize, admitting he was wrong for disappearing while desperately waiting for a long needed hug from his significant other. You give it to him, happy he understood your feelings.

Perhaps you could have handled things better, but you’re learning. Xavier’s learning too! You just have to explain it to him in a way he’ll understand.

#☀️l&ds #⭐️l&ds #love & deepsace x reader #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader

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vampiricgf · 19 hours

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☆ BEDROOM HYMNS

ᝰ Astarion comes home from a night of hunting to find his darling lover needy and perfectly pliant to hear his idea of having another child together (repost from my old account)

f!reader, breeding, pregnancy, blood drinking, masturbation, fingering, teasing

Rain patters the roof, each droplet striking like a drop of metal against the terracotta though it’s not the only thing that robs you of sleep.

It’s been two years since the birth of your child. Two years of milestones, two years of putting all else on hold for the wonderful little girl that slep soundly just one room over. You may be horrifically biased but the two of you were lucky enough to have created what was possibly the most charming babe in all the realms. For Astarion you knew it was love at first sight.

The adoration he held for that child was next to nothing, it’s own category of madness and love. Recalling it brough the faintest whisper of a smile to your face as you turn over, groggily eyeing the glaringly vacant spot beside you in bed.

He’d gone hunting, as you both kept calling it long after no longer being in the wilds. It was just… familiar. And it kept curious little ears from asking too many questions that required as yet too complex answers. Hunting was easy to grasp and kept their shared befanged appearance from being something other than a simple trait of her fathers she was overjoyed to have. On days that ended with you feeling haggard and worse for wear he would ardently refuse to feed from you. This had been one such day.

One of many. How long had it been since you had more than a brief window to take advantage of if you wanted to indulge in each other? How long had it been since you felt your lovers teeth scrape the tender flesh of your neck, since the shivers of anticipation crawled down your spine?

Too long.

Familiar longing makes you squeeze your thighs together beneath the duvet, biting your fingers recalling previous trysts that had left you all but a puddle of water in his hands.

Gods only know how long he’ll be gone, and you know self pleasure is a quick path towards sleep.

As your mind drifts to vivid images of him your hand slips between your legs: the feel of his hair when you give it faint tugs while he languishes between your legs, the way his gaze becomes something predatory when he looks at you in a certain light and how it makes your heartbeat speed into a reckless gallop, the way his tongue feels against your skin-

Before the coil in your abdomen begins to tighten you hear it, the tell tale graon of the windowsill supporting his weight. In some faraway annoyance you remind yourself to tell him again that you have a perfectly functional front door.

For some reason you remain frozen beneath the covers, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end as you hold your breath. Even with your eyes closed you know hes there, even with lesser senses you can hear his snow soft footfalls, but even so his speed still catches you off guard. Gasping as he manuvers you onto your back, crouched over you with pupils blown so wide the crimson of his irises is barely visible.

“I take it you’ve had a good night?” you smirk, nearly preening against the feeling of his hands gripping your wrists gingerly to hold them on either side of your head.

“Hm it smells like you were having an even better one,” his voice comes out a playful whisper. Before you can react he brings one of your hands to his face, making heat blaze beneath your skin.

Your mouth falls open watching his tongue slide against the fingers that had been sliding through your own arousal not seconds before.The feeling of him taking your finger into his mouth, licking around the appendage in the most obscene way, makes your thoughts cloud and your heart pick up into it’s familiar racing tempo he conducts so effortlessly.

Your eyes follow a strand of glittering spit connecting your finger to his lips, so focused you nearly miss him speak.

“Won’t you tell your lover what was on your mind while you were touching yourself?”

Your voice cracks. “You.”

He gives a playful hmph before letting go of you, leaving your hand to fall dumbly against your sternum.

“Well, that was a given.” He leans down to press his face against the side of your neck, inhaling before pressing his lips to your feverish skin. “Any specific debauchery, though?”

You struggle for words, mentally grasping at air mid free fall as his hips press down to grind himself against you.

“Since the cats got your tongue I have proposition for you,” He breaths against your cleavage as he nuzzles his face over your heartbeat. As your breathing grows heavier he continues, making your own eyes widen as each word goes straight to your cunt.

“I think we should have another little vampling.”

It’s as if he yanks all the oxygen from the room, leaving you starved and struggling even harder, dizzy against the feeling of his erection pressing against you and the wave of emotion that threatens to overwhelm.

“Another?

“Mhm,” his tongue licks a fat stripe from between your breasts up the side of your neck.

All coherent thought has faltered for you, replaced by fractured urges as your hips buck up against him in response. You aren’t thinking about the practicality of another child, theres simply no room for it when your every sense is being crowded by each aspect of his presence above you.

Quickly the duvet is discarded, flung off your body and your nightdress hiked up to give him access to your now damp underwear. He takes full advantage, rubbing his tumb over your clothed clit and clearly enjoying the way it makes you give a little yelp, the way your legs jerk as if touched by live electricity.

“Can’t you just picture it? I know I can,” his fingers pull the thin fabric to the side, sliding easily through the mess of arousal between your folds as he whispers against your panting lips. “You looked so beautiful before, all swollen with child and milk. Radiant. Decadent.”

You’re reduced to primitive noises, speech completely failing now as he slides two fingers inside you, knuckles easily sliding past the relaxed muscles before he starts lightly scissoring them against the slick velvet of your walls. Your fingers twist against the fabric of his shirt at his back, teeth catching your bottom lip as you moan his name in choppy syllables.

Smugness and desire mingle in his expression as his lips devour yours, drinking down your noises and gasps as if you’re a fountain of the finest wine. Your hips move to grind against his hand as his thumb presses against your throbbing clit once more, keeping light, consistent pressure but no movement.

His habit of teasing always shone through.

But your impatience is infectious, and once he deems you sufficiently ready as quickly as possible his fingers withdraw and he leans back on his knees, undoing his trousers with fumbling fingers before mauvering to shimmy them off. The garment is flung into the murky depths of your bedroom floor as he cages you with one forearm, the other hand busy guiding the head of his cock through the mess between your legs before lining the head up and beginning the slow push inside.

It never fails to leave you lightheaded, no matter how many times you’ve taken him before. The way your body accommodates him so eagerly, the way he sits heavy inside you as inch by inch slots perfectly against your walls, the head of his cock brushing against the spot that turns your viscion to static the more stimulation he gives.

As if you were made for one another. You wholeheartedly believe it.

He gives you little time to adjust, rather immediately setting a deep, steady pace. His rhythm isn’t harsh or bruising, not even as he cages you with both arms now and as your uneven breathing mingles in the milimeter of space between your faces. Each pull out is deliciously slow, allowing you to feel every vein and curve before the push back has your fingers digging into his shoulder blades.

As the slick squealching fills the room, the sound of skin sticking to skin joining in some pornographic symphony, your legs come to wrap around his hips and your ankles lock behind him. Pressing lightly with your heels your urge him on, urge him to make good on his word and give you more.

He answers in kind, teeth nipping against your bottom lip as his pace picks up speed and he presses forward just enough to shift your legs even higher and give himself better access to hit deeper inside you. It makes you nearly wail, broken sounds now joining in the bedroom hymn and a particular urgency grips your body like a coil winding tight. Your breathing comes in wheezes as he presses even harder against you, cock hitting that spot that makes your toes curl and your mouth drop open in a silent wail, fingernails scraping against his back and your thigh muscles scream from the exertion of tensing so harshly.

The pressure of your cunt clenching around him in a vise grip makes choppy groans fall from his lips but his rhythm never falters as you crest the high of your orgasm, your moans taking on a higher pitch and your hips wriggling beneath his as his own keep their course driving into you again and again.

However, the barrage of mental images of you carrying yet another babe makes him devolve into a sloppy, broken pace rather quickly. It’s an urge, an ache he carries so deeply inside himself and he has to give this to you. Like a man posessed, acting on base desire his hand comes to cradle the back of your head and keep your steady as his fangs create their usual pinpricks against your neck before widening them as they find a home against your vein.

The taste of liquid metal explodes against his tongue at the same time his hips hit one final time against you before he can’t resist any longer, spilling ropes of thick, hot cum inside your greedy cunt. He can feel your equally warm blood smearing against his lips and chin as he messily laps at the side of your neck, keening like some pathetic animal as your walls massage his cock as if to take every last drop he has to give.

Wet sucking sounds and animalistic grunts replace the previous bodily meoldy, as the final, haunting notes on the decresendo of some sweeping piece. Your fingers move to tangle in the sweat damp hair at the nape of his neck, lightly caressing and encouraging him to have his fill.

You’ve always been so sweetly accommodating, it makes his fangs ache.

With a few more licks to help somewhat clean up the mess hes made of your throat, he lends back, pulling out of you with a gravelly sigh but keeping ahold of your thighs and maintaining the pushed up position of your legs.

Even with your eyes closed, impossibly heavy now from the exhaustion and afterglow, you can feel his eyes zeroed in on the sight of his cum dripping from you and you already know you’ll be left in a state beyond exhaustion by the time the early morning hours roll around.

But that was a problem for the near future version of yourself. Your lovers primal tendancies become your own, making your eyes crack open hungrily and hold him steady in your gaze.

The sight of him, still panting, lips slightly parted and your lifeblood smeared in wild tracks across the lower half of his face makes something click into place inside your head and your arms reach out for him once more.

As he wastes no time in pressing himself against you anew you can’t help the satisfied smile that lazily works across your features and bleeds into your kiss.

The strange symphony of your bedroom resumes anew, enveloping you both tightly as the rest of the world continues it’s unaware slumber.

#astarion smut #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion bg3 #astarion #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #bg3 smut #dadstarion

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ilwonuu · 2 days

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if your taking requests, could you write something angsty for jeonghan? I love your writing it’s cute and I think accurate to the person. Keep up the great work 🫶🏽🫶🏽

yes of course hehehehe,,, thank you so much that is so sweet. im so happy you enjoy my work!!! i hope you enjoy this too<3

𝗀𝗈 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒

⇝ 𝗒𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗇

❀ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀－ 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗐𝖻 𝖻𝖼 𝗒𝗎𝗆<𝟥 ， 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅！𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆！𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

❀ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌- 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 （𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅）， 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍， 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄，，，𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾， 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗀𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾，，， 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗎𝗆𝖻 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖼 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾<𝟥， 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 （𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅），（𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾）， 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀， 𝗅𝗆𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾 ！！！！

❀ 𝖺／𝗇- 𝗅𝗆𝗄 𝗂𝖿 𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺 𝗉𝗍 𝟤 𝗁𝖾𝗁𝖾，，， 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 𝗑 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗇<𝟥 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽，，，

jeonghan never goes this long without talking to you. the last time you saw him was 2 days agao. it’s weird for best friends. very weird for you and jeonghan. obviously there’s a reason. the reason being you confessing your feelings to him. jeonghan did not like hearing that.

it scared him away definitely, you thought. you feel awful about it. why couldn’t you just have left it alone? kept it to yourself maybe? then maybe you could still have him as a friend at least. but it wasn’t fair to him. you were falling more in love with him.

you thought he was falling in love with you too. and he was. he couldn’t come to terms with knowing that. of course he could tell. he was happy. he couldn’t do it. the last thing he wants is to ruin all these years of being friends with you. he just wants to kiss you and not have it ruin anything. you both know that that’s not how it would go.

he’s scared of committing to you. he wants to be perfect and that’s too much pressure on its own so he pushes you away. for weeks. you were broken. your job was the only thing getting you through the days. your co workers cheer you up as best as they can but all you want is jeonghan.

why can’t he just talk to you about it and stop hiding? putting you through all of this stress just because he can’t talk to you. you have been working less since jeonghan decided to just forget about you. well you hoped he didn’t actually forget about you.

you were exhausted after a shift as your phone rang. it was jeonghan. you shivered in cold sweat as you answered. tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“i’m outside- please let me in.” you can’t even respond to him. you hang up on him without a response. you hesitate to open the door for him but you really miss him.

maybe he’s coming with good news? if he was coming with good news it wouldn’t have took him 3 weeks.

you still tried to convince yourself that he could want you in the same way. you open your front door nervously. jeonghan looks tired. he doesn’t look like himself. he’s wearing the sweater you got him. you almost cry at the sight.

“can i come in?” you nod at him as he steps in. it’s awkward and it’s never been that way before. he follows you to the couch. both of you are scared of this conversation. both of you want each other. jeonghan just wished you wanted him the same way as him.

“first of all- i’m a fucking asshole. i know you can be upset with me for as long as possible i deserve it. but i’m sorry for treating you like that. i never want to go that long without talking to you again.” you tear up already with a nod. you had so many built up emotions.

“jeonghan- i’m really upset with you yeah. you fucking ghosted me! i thought you were never gonna talk to me again.” he shakes his head.

“never- angel you really thought that?” he grabs your hand, he feels like complete shit. “well what else was i supposed to this jeonghan?” you were crying at this point. he couldn’t believe he made you cry.

he wishes he wasn’t so stupid about his decisions. “i’m so so sorry i didn’t talk to you. i- was scared of the thought of feelings and i still am. i have to be honest with you.” you feel your heart drop when he says those words.

“i c-can’t commit to a relationship. i just can’t-“ you nod quickly at him. why are you doing this to yourself? you know how much you like him. you know he means friends with benefits. you shouldn’t settle less for what you want. but you would do anything to have jeonghan.

“jeonghan?” you stop him with a soft smile. “can i kiss you?” you are basically setting yourself up for failure. jeonghan is just too pretty. he nods at you slowly as he leans over to kiss you. the kiss is so desperate. you can tell how much jeonghan wants you. his lips are sloppy against yours.

“this isn’t a good idea.” he says in between kisses. you don’t respond to him. all you want to do is keep kissing him.

“you’re gonna regret this angel.” you just wish he would stop rubbing it in.

“i just want you hannie-“ you reach for him.

“are you sure?” you beg him practically.

yoon jeonghan was a asshole. he didn’t lie when he said he you would regret it. you wish you never slept with jeonghan. your best friend flirting with another girl at a party.

he knew you were right there and he didn’t care. you wish you didn’t care about jeonghan as much as you do. because clearly he doesn’t care about you.

you can’t hell but to cry over the boy. he comes over to you like nothing happened. you knew you couldn’t talk to him about it again. you couldn’t lose jeonghan. the last thing you wanted was for him to stop talking to you again.

you rather have him treat you this way than to not have him at all. you wish he could see how this affects you.

you really hate yoon jeonghan.

#svt jeonghan #jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fic #jeonghan seventeen #jeonghan #jeonghan smut #jeonghan angst #seventeen #svt #svt fanfic #svt smut #svt imagines #svt fic #svt scenarios #svt x reader #svt angst #seventeen fics #seventeen fanfic

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harlowcomehome · 2 days

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Babysitting gone wrong:

A requested Hazel and Jade fic.

“But dad- I’m twelve! I can watch Jade! She’s not a baby anymore and neither am I!” Hazel groaned, throwing her head back as she felt like her dad wasn’t listening to her.

“Why would you want to? Is twelve even old enough to be alone at the house? ” Jack didn’t even look at her as he chaotically packed his suitcase, he had waited until the last minute despite your constant reminders.

You had overheard the tale end of the conversation and made your way into the bedroom with Jade tailing behind you.

“Mom! Tell him!” Hazel whined she had been tiptoeing into her pre-teen angst and it showed.

“Tell him what bug?” You tried to hide your smile, knowing she was a carbon copy of her dad’s attitude and it was very obviously getting to him. Jack's face was flush as he shot you an irritated glance, the way he was packing his suitcase bothered you as you walked over to him, softly moving him aside with your hip as you folded his shirts to fit better.

“Thank you baby” he leaned into you, kissing your cheek. His curls were a mess, his eyes were tired. He was running on fumes but still looked as handsome as ever to you.

“I asked if I could babysit Jade tonight when you guys leave. Grandma and Grandpa have bingo at six and instead of them missing it I can watch the house!” She spoke so quickly it took a moment for you to catch up to what she was saying.

“B-I-N-G-O and bingo was his name-oh!” Jade chimed in as she crawled on the bed and got under the covers immediately.

“You didn’t tell Mom why you want to do that” Jack smirked, stifling a laugh.

“Money, I assume?”

“Nothing in life is free” Hazel shrugged making you giggle at her hustler mentality.

“Grandma and Grandpa are at bingo for like two hours! I can do it!” Hazel looked up at you with big puppy dog eyes and pouty lips. “I won’t be alone! Lucky and Olive are here!”

“Our dog and cat are not going to help you take care of your sister. Having to be the only one in charge is exhausting.” Jack looked at you and you knew by the look in his eyes he wanted you to say no with him.

“Sidebar” You and Jack always said that to one another when you had to speak to each other privately. He stopped packing and followed you into the hallway leaving Hazel and Jade alone in the room.

“Babe, It’s just a few hours, we have the cameras to watch her too” you whispered not wanting to undermine Jack in any way.

“Do you think she’s ready for that? Jade is a lot older now but she’s still significantly younger than Hazey” he bit his lip, a telltale sign that he was nervous about it.

“I mean, you used to watch Clay all the time right?”

“I wasn’t that good of a sitter though” Jack chuckled, immediately remembering the time Clay fell off the bed and busted his knee open on his watch.

“It’s your call, big daddy. Whatever you wanna do” You squeezed his bicep knowing that would make him blush, as it always did.

Jack nodded, rubbing his beard with his hand. “You had to do that huh?” The smirk on his face told you what you already knew as you followed him into the bedroom.

“I’ll call your mom and tell her bingo is still on” you giggled as you gave him a quick kiss and went to find your phone to call Maggie.

Jack entered the room with a serious furrowed brow and stern look. “Your mom and I decided that you can watch Jade while grandma and grandpa go to bingo. You’re not allowed for any reason to use the stove or oven when you’re alone. You call us or grandma if you need anything at all, okay?”

“Yes! Thank you!” Hazel hopped off the bed and hugged Jack. “Now let’s talk about some benjamins!”

“You’ve been talking to your Uncles too much” Jack obnoxiously cackled, making Hazel sigh.

“You’re also wild if you think you’re getting paid racks on racks to watch your sister”

“What if I do an amazing job?” Hazel batted her eyelashes at Jack.

“Yeah, daddy! Hazey will do a good job!” Jade backed her older sister up with a big grin earning a high-five from Hazel.

“Then you’ll be hired again” you chimed in as you entered the room again. “Daddy and I will discuss your allowance when we get back.”

••••

When you and Jack had finally left the house you could tell he was anxious, you kept your hand on his knee the entire ride to the tarmac. You both had given Hazel a long talking to about calling 911 if there was an emergency, but Jack still didn’t feel at ease.

“It’s just for a few hours, my love” You handed him your phone with the security camera footage, giving him your airpod to listen.

“Okay, Jadey! What do you want to do now that it’s just us?” Hazel stood at the front of the living room.

“Can we eat candy? Oh! And play princess tea party? ” Jade was going to take full advantage of the situation, knowing Hazel would be more lenient than Mom and dad. She hopped off the couch and followed Hazel into the kitchen wiggling her loose tooth.

Jack handed you the phone back, deciding to trust the process and earning a kiss from you as you locked your phone.

“We can drink tea and eat some cookies, how does that sound?” Hazel used the step stool in the kitchen to get some tea bags from the cabinet.

“Uh oh!” Jade slapped a hand over her mouth, as Lucky started to pee inside the house. He had been waiting by the door but nobody had noticed for longer than his little bladder could hold.

“Bad lucky!” Jade ran over to him to open the back door but Hazel was already getting the towels and tile cleaner from under the sink.

“I got it Jadey- just go set up the tea table okay?” Hazel was trying to hide her annoyance as she cleaned up the mess that Lucky left dribbled on the tile floor.

It wasn’t long before she heard a big crash coming from Jade's bedroom, shutting the back door quickly after Lucky came running back inside.

“JADE?” A horrific scream came from Hazel as she ran toward her little sister's room, the plastic table they usually did tea parties on had fallen over, but nothing serious happened otherwise.

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” Jade was cleaning up the stuffed animals and plastic plates that had fallen on the floor of her bedroom. Hazel helped her set the table up before asking her to follow her to the kitchen to get the tea and cookies.

“You can carry the cookies and I’ll carry the tea.” She handed Jade the box of Keebler Danish wedding cookies as she opened the fridge to get a can of cold brisk tea.

“Cold tea?” Jade tilted her head to the side knowing normally you’d boil water on the stove.

“Daddy said I can’t use the stove” Hazel shrugged as she followed her little sister back to the bedroom.

The two of them were having a princess tea party as they usually did when Jade let out a shriek, her tooth barely hanging on by a thread.

“Oh my- Jade!” The color on Hazels face completely disappeared, trying to remember what you and Jack would do. “Don’t move!”

Hazel ran to the kitchen to get some paper towels to wrap her fingers in. When she got back to Jade she was crying and panicking.

“What do we do?” Jade sniffled as she tried not to move her mouth too much.

“I have to pull your tooth out Jadey! It’ll be fast okay? You trust me?”

“I’m scared” Jade whimpered as Hazel quickly tugged on the tooth that was barely hanging on.

Just as Hazel pulled the tooth out both Maggie and Brian arrived home from bingo causing a commotion as Lucky barked and Olive jumped down from Jade's book shelf.

“Do you think the tooth fairy will bring me lots of money?” Jade giggled as she held the napkin up to her mouth.

“I’m sure she will” Hazel sighed relieved that her grandparents were finally home.

“How did babysitting go?” Maggie asked the girls as she checked on them.

“Great!” Jade chimed in, “I lost a tooth!”

“I need a nap” Hazel groaned as she lay down on the floor. “Tell my dad he was right. I am exhausted.” she rolled over on the carpet closing her eyes and earning a stifled giggle from her grandma.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow blurb #Jack Harlow fan fic

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lanawinterscigarettes · 3 days

Text

More Important (Greg House x reader x James Wilson)

Summary: you not feeling well is far more important than work in your boyfriends' eyes

Warnings: the reader is sick/doesn't feel good but it isn't specified the reason why so it's pretty much up for interpretation, House and Wilson are both loving and worried boyfriends, kind of hurt/comfort given the themes, brief and mild swearing, they/them pronouns are used to refer to the reader one (1) time in a gender neutral manner

A/N: I felt awful when I woke up the other day and when I went back to sleep I had a dream with House and Wilson that ended up inspiring this fic

When you woke up that morning, every muscle in your body ached as if someone had dropped a sack of bricks on you while you slept. As much as you wanted to just stay in bed, you unfortunately had to get up to use the bathroom.

House was still asleep next to you, letting out the occasional peaceful snore despite the time indicating he'd be late for work if he didn't wake up soon. Not that he cared.

Wilson was already up and ready, from what you could tell. That assumption was later confirmed when you stumbled to the bathroom, the sight before you making it seem as though your boyfriend was being serenaded by the sound of the blow dryer as he fixed his hair.

"Are you almost done? I need the bathroom," you mumbled groggily, leaning up against the side of the doorframe while you waited for him to finish.

"Well, good morning to you, too," He responded in a voice that was far too chipper for your taste given how early it was. "And yeah, almost." He shut off the blow dryer and turned to face you, his big brown eyes studying you with a slight look of concern. Being a doctor, of course he could recognize when something was physically wrong.

"Are you okay?" He tentatively asked, trying to approach the subject in a delicate manner. After all the time he'd spent with House he knew not everyone wanted to talk about their feelings or even admit when something was wrong.

"Yeah, 'm fine. Jus' have a slight headache." Technically it wasn't a full lie, as your head did hurt, but you were greatly underexaggerating the pain level in hopes he wouldn't worry.

Big mistake. Almost as soon as you shut the bathroom door did Wilson turn and head towards the bedroom with the full intent of waking up your other boyfriend.

By the time you were done, both House and Wilson were standing close together, presumably discussing your supposed symptoms, even if you couldn't hear what they were saying.

"I know you guys are talking about me," you grumbled out the accusation while shuffling back over to the bed. Wilson looked a bit guilty to be talking about something involving you behind your back, but House just seemed amused you still had the energy required to dish out snark despite not feeling good.

"Whatever led you to that conclusion?" House asked rhetorically. "We very well could've been discussing what traffic will be like on the way in to work, or our favorite romantic movies." At that, Wilson rolled his eyes in annoyance. House ignored him, finishing with, "Not everything is about you, y'know."

"Don't play dumb with me," was the only thing you could manage to get out as a response given how tired you were. Collapsing onto the bed, you curled under the covers in hopes that maybe all you needed was a couple hours of extra sleep.

Too exhausted for your brain to work properly, you only picked up bits and pieces of their conversation. From what you could tell, they were trying to decide whether or not they should stay home from work to look after you, and if so who it should be out of the two of them.

"I'll stay here with them. Just tell Cuddy I can't come in today because of a medical emergency," House offered while glancing over at your blanket clad form. As much as he acted like he didn't care, he didn't enjoy seeing you in pain, even if it was over something small.

"Are you sure?" Wilson questioned, just to double check in case he wanted to change his mind.

House nodded his head to confirm, uttering "yeah, I'm sure" in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

You heard the sound of footsteps approaching, feeling as Wilson leaned down to press a kiss to your face, murmuring the words "I have to go to work, but I'll be back soon". You just nodded, too weak to say anything more than a quiet "love you".

After he left, House made his way back over to the bed, gently nudging what he assumed to be your leg with his cane. "Move over," he commanded in his usual gruff manner that led little room for argument.

Obliging, you shifted over on the bed, giving him the space to lay down in his normal spot. "Sorry."

He let out a sigh as he got on the bed, feeling a little bad he was so rude given just how pathetic you looked. "It's fine."

The two of you were quiet for a moment before you spoke up again, your voice sounding a little hoarse. "I'm sorry you got stuck here with me. I'm sure you'd rather be doing anything else other than this."

As much as he didn't want to admit it, hearing you say that hurt his heart a little. Then again, he couldn't necessarily blame you for thinking that. "Not true. Why would I want to be in a hospital full of sick people I don't even like when I could be with only one sick person I can at least tolerate?"

You let out a snort of laughter, fully recognizing the jest in his tone. He obviously cared, the grumpy bastard, even if he didn't show it very often.

He felt accomplished when he heard your laugh, continuing in a softer and more genuine tone. "Besides, some things are more important, anyway."

"Mhm." Humming softly in agreement, you moved closer to him on the bed until your head was resting against his shoulder, making sure to give him the space to get up and stretch his leg if he needed to later on. "I love you."

A faint smile formed on his face at your words, one of his arms reaching over to wrap around you protectively. "I know." It was his own way of showing his love for you without having to say the words.

Feeling comfortable and safe in his arms, you must've dozed off because the next thing you remembered was being woken up by the sound of a door opening and shutting.

"Could you be any louder?" House's irritated voice rang out through your ears, the sound not being entirely unpleasant even if it did manage to wake you up more.

"Sorry," you heard Wilson apologize in a hushed tone. There's no way it was evening already, which meant he must've gotten off work early.

"What are you doing back here?" You called out, your voice sounding tired yet curious. "You're supposed to still be at work."

"I couldn't stay knowing you were home sick," he responded as he slipped under the covers next to you, not even bothering to change into more comfortable clothes first.

"Oh, sure, just forget all about me," House complained in mock offense, something that Wilson chose to outrightly ignore.

"But the hospital- I mean, you're the head of oncology, you can't just-"

"Some things are more important," Wilson gently cut off your worries, his hand reaching out to rest on top of yours.

"Hm, that sounds familiar," you muttered while giving House a look that said 'I know you two have been talking about me again'. He looked back as if he had no clue what your deal was.

"Go back to sleep, honey. We'll both still be here when you wake back up." It was hard to ignore the command of the oncologist next to you, especially when he spoke in such a low and soothing way.

"Okay," you agreed without a fight, snuggling comfortably into the arms of your two boyfriends as you closed your eyes and allowed sleep to overtake you yet again, starting to feel a lot better already.

End notes: I feel like I'm not very good at writing fics with poly couples which is a damn shame because I really love doing it </3

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justagalwhowrites · 24 hours

Text

Yearling - Ch. 36: Severed

Joel, Tommy and Ellie search for you. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-35 found on Tumblr here.

I'm sorry I couldn't resist.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and a step beyond. Torture. Mention of past sexual assault (not described). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 8.2k

A/N: I want to state, real quick, that Bambi is NOT going to be sexually assaulted again. This is a highly triggering subject and, given the situation she's in, I understand if folks are bracing for it. That's not going to happen. The threat of it is there but it's not going to happen.

We are into the final arc of Yearling and we are going to see some TLOU 2 OVERLAP again. There isn't any this chapter but there will be in this arc and here's how: a character from that game will be mentioned as will the spoiler-y incident from a few chapters ago. What happens plot wise in this arc is completely separate from the game and entirely original content BUT there is that character overlap and more specific mentions of the incident and the motives behind it. This character returns NEXT CHAPTER. If you're trying to go in blind to season 2, it might be wise to step back. Feel free to send me a DM, I'm happy to answer any and all questions!

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter

Joel had rarely paid much mind to how long it took to get out of Jackson before.

“Tommy,” Maria was stalking after her husband as he, Joel and Ellie headed for the stable. “Be reasonable, you can’t just take off…”

“Sorry, babe, but I can’t just sit here and let ‘em have a piece of her,” Tommy said as they went to the stable. There were the two horses Tommy and Joel had just returned on, the three that had carried the kids back, and some horses you’d been working with. You’d been telling Joel about their progress, how one was nearing well broke and you wanted him to go with you to the shooting range with her soon to get her accustomed to the sound of gunfire.

“Do you have some kind of death wish you haven’t bothered to tell me about?” Maria planted herself in front of her husband, her arms crossed, defiant. “You have responsibilities here, Tommy! People who depend on you, people like me and our fucking son! You don’t get to just take off at your brother’s command anymore!”

Joel stiffened at that. He and Maria had gotten to a good place in their relationship over the years, her moving past the thought that he’d been the driving force behind all her husband’s misdeeds. They’d settled into a mutual respect and eventual affection since he’d come to Jackson, Maria seeming to appreciate what he did for the community and the way he loved her son and Joel admiring her leadership and the way she was a partner to his little brother. He thought they were past this.

Maybe he was wrong.

Tommy took his wife’s shoulders in his hands, his thumbs rubbing little circles against her.

“If it were you, he’d be going with me,” he said gently. “That’s my baby sister out there, Maria. Can’t live with myself if something happens to her and I didn’t do everything I can to stop it. I’m goin’. You can either help and hope we get back soon or you can be pissed while I’m gone but I’m goin’, you can’t stop me.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and went and stood beside Joel, looking over the horses.

“What’s better,” he asked. “Tired mounts or ones that might spook?”

Joel looked at his brother for a moment, thankful that he had him to rely on, and ground his teeth. He didn’t know the answer.

“They’re on foot,” Ellie said, joining them. “Tired is probably better, we’re still going to catch them. But I don’t expect this to be quiet and if we’re on horses that spook, well…”

Joel gave her a stiff nod and went to get the horses ready to leave. He was moving as quickly as he could but it felt slow, everything felt so slow. It felt like he should be running, pushing himself to the brink so he could reach you sooner. Every second you were away from him hurt. It was worse than when you’d left Jackson to search for Savvy in the blizzard. That had been bad enough but at least then he could believe that you were in one piece, that you could take care of yourself.

That wasn’t the case now. He knew you weren’t safe. He knew you weren’t OK. He knew he’d vowed to protect you, the night the two of you made promises to each other in his bed he had sworn to keep you safe and never let anything happen to you.

He’d failed at that.

He’d failed and now he was here, doing what he had to do to make sure he could reach you. It just didn’t feel like enough. Nothing would, not until he held you again.

Tommy and Maria talked in low, harsh voices until they had things situated. Food, water, ammunition, medical kit.

“Tommy,” Joel said, jerking his head toward the horses, voice sharper than he’d meant it to be. His brother jogged over to him, taking the reins of his horse from him.

“The guys who brought the kids back are going to wait here until a few more crews come in,” Tommy said. “Then they’re coming out after us. We can mark a path. With fresher horses, they’ll catch us quick.”

Joel nodded stiffly and the three of them led their horses to the gate, Maria following with her arms crossed over her stomach. In another situation, Joel would have taken the time to talk with her and reassure her. He didn’t have the luxury of time now.

He mounted up as the gates opened, Ellie and Tommy following suit, the three of them riding through the gate the moment there was room.

“Joel!” Maria called after a moment. He looked back at her. “Bring my husband home.”

He watched her for a moment, at the fear on her face and in her wide eyes, a mirror of what he was feeling now. But she was still letting him go. He wasn’t sure he could do the same in her position.

“I will.”

Ellie took the lead, pointing out the spot in the fence where kids left town. Joel ground his teeth and resisted the urge to yell yet again. What good would it do? What was done was done and this lesson was one he doubted Ellie would forget. She didn’t need to be taught it again.

They rode for nearly two hours when they came upon a small clearing and Ellie jumped off her horse before it had even come to a stop.

“We were here,” she said, looking around, almost panicky. “We were here, I know we were, they had us behind that tree…”

She ran over to it, walking around it until Joel couldn’t see her anymore.

“Ellie!” He called. He couldn’t have her out of sight, not right now.

“I was right,” she called back, coming around the tree. “I took a chunk of bark off of it, this is where we were but they’re gone, completely fucking gone, I don’t…”

Joel was less surprised than Ellie.

“They weren’t about to sit and wait for us to find ‘em,” he said. “We need to track ‘em. We’ll find them.”

He, Tommy and Ellie circled the clearing on foot, looking for signs of a trail. It didn’t take them long to find one. Unfortunately, they found more than one.

“The fuckers split up,” Tommy kicked a plant in frustration. “Any way to tell which group had her?”

“Smaller boot prints, maybe,” Joel said, looking closely at the ground.

“But there were other women,” Ellie said. Joel’s head snapped toward her. “They had a few women. I didn’t talk to them but… She wouldn’t be the only one.”

“We can’t split up,” Tommy said. “It’s too goddamn risky, there are too fuckin’ many of ‘em, we have to stick together…”

Joel nodded, trying to think. He tried to keep his shit together but he could feel it happening, the panic setting into his bones. He could hear the blood in his ears, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He was having a hard time taking a full breath, his head spun. He reached out, his hand finding a tree trunk, giving him something to root him to the ground.

“Joel?” Ellie’s hand appeared at his back. “Hey, you can’t die on us right now, we have to get her back, you can’t do this now, you gotta keep it together, you hear me?”

He nodded quickly, closing his eyes for a moment. His mind scrambled for something - anything - to hold him here, something to make him push past the fear and do what he had to do.

He thought of you.

He thought of the first time he’d felt your body against him, on the back of a horse in the snow-covered forest. The first time he’d held you because you wanted him to, how you’d sought comfort in him. The first time he’d kissed you, how your lips had fit softly against his, the quick little breaths you’d made, the way you’d felt so close to him. The first time he’d touched you as his wife, how your body was so familiar to him but was brand new, too, with this new context. You were his, he was yours and he needed to keep himself together long enough to get you home.

He took a deep, shaky breath.

“We follow one trail,” he said. “We either find her or we find the people at the end of it. If she ain’t with ‘em, we get ‘em to tell us where she is.”

“You really think they’re just going to, what, tell you whatever you want to know?” Ellie gaped at him. “They’re not going to just answer your fucking questions, Joel!”

“Wasn’t plannin’ on askin’ nice,” Joel said, stalking back toward the horses. “We follow the middle track. See where it leads.”

Joel knew he should feel some kind of shame about what he was about to do. What he wanted to do, how he wanted to hurt them. He’d never told Ellie the finer points of what he and Tommy used to do - still did, when the need arose. He’d never told her what he did to find her when David had her and he was desperate. She knew he used to kill people, he thought she had some idea of just what that entailed but he’d protected her from the worst of it, the most shameful parts.

Now, he was hungry for it. If he were a dog, he’d be salivating for it, aching to get his jaws around the throat of the man who had taken you from him. He didn’t want to just kill him, that wasn’t enough. It hadn’t been enough the year before when he’d sent him away from Jackson and it wasn’t enough now when he was doing who knows what to you. He was going to enjoy pulling him apart, piece by fucking piece. He almost hoped that Cody wasn’t with the men they were tracking, that he’d find you and have the chance to take every ounce of pain from them before finding Cody and taking it from him, too. He couldn’t even regret the drive to do it or the fact that he knew he could do it and do it well. His only concern, after finding you, was exposing Ellie to that.

But they lived in a harsh world. Maybe it was good for her to know the harsher parts of it.

Joel led the way, slower going now that they were beyond where Ellie knew the group to be. They were carefully tracking a group of what looked like seven people - including two women - for hours. It was dusk when Tommy noticed the signs of people first, giving a low whistle that sounded something like a bird. Joel looked over his shoulder and Tommy nodded toward a patch of sky he could see through the trees. Joel looked up. There was smoke.

He dismounted and tied his horse off, Ellie and Tommy doing the same, before the three of them prowled, quiet and slow, toward the smoke. It wasn’t long before they could smell it, hear the quiet laughs of men. Joel tightened his jaw and his grip on his gun. His heart raced.

The group they came upon largely had their guard down. Joel spotted someone through the trees, beyond the fire, looking like they were patrolling. Otherwise, they weren’t paying any attention. Joel gestured to Tommy and Ellie, sending them behind larger trees, Joel going to one himself. He peered around the thick trunk to find them there, make sure these weren’t just innocents passing through and seeing if he could catch a glimpse of you.

But they weren’t innocents, a woman with her hands bound sitting beside one of the men at the fire, another one - also tied - with her back against a tree. There was no sign of you or Cody.

Tommy met Joel’s gaze, his face set and determined. Joel gave him a stiff nod before turning to Ellie, her own expression hardened with barely controlled rage. She didn’t even look at Joel, too busy watching the men around the tree.

Joel took a deep breath and raised his gun, stepping around the tree and firing, catching the man with his back to them in his head. He fell forward with a thud.

There was a moment of stunned silence, the only sound birds fleeing the crack of the gun. Then, it was chaos, the men scrambling for weapons. One of the women screamed.

“Need two alive!” Joel yelled to his brother and daughter, pressing closer and firing again, felling another man.

Tommy shot next, a third man going down. A bullet whizzed past Joel’s head, close enough that he felt the heat of it on his skin, the shot clipping his ear. He ignored the sharp pain of it, watching as the shot Ellie got off dropped a fourth man. The fact that they’d caught the men when they’d stopped for the night was to their advantage. They were clearly used to traveling in a larger group and running unchallenged, only watching for infected who often made themselves known with crackling breaths, the sound of crunching through the brush and sharp clicks. They weren’t expecting a small group to come in, guns blazing. They were slow getting their weapons, rifles on the ground and out of reach, making picking them off like shooting fish in a barrel. Joel shot the man on watch as he came running toward the fire, his gun raised and aimed at Joel.

Tommy charged forward and grabbed a man who was just getting to his feet, his back toward the three of them. He was just raising his gun when Tommy swung the butt of his rifle at his head, catching the man in the temple and knocking him off balance. He took advantage of the moment and ripped the weapon out of the man’s hands, casting it aside before shoving him to the ground and putting his boot in his chest. Tommy leveled his rifle at his head, holding the man in place.

“Got one!” He yelled to Joel.

There were two men left standing now, one reaching for a gun. Ellie shot him in the shoulder before Joel got a chance to react, sending him sprawling on the ground. The other was smarter. He grabbed the nearest woman and pulled her in front of him as she screamed, pressing a gun to her head, his eyes darting between Joel and Ellie.

“Keep coming and I kill ‘er,” he panted.

“Joel,” Ellie’s eyes darted toward him. “What do we do?”

“Let me go,” the man said, the woman in his grip trembling. “Him too, and I leave her alive.”

Joel didn’t have time for this. He moved quickly, raising his gun and firing, hitting the man in the middle of his forehead. The woman screamed again, covered in his blood and stumbling forward as his body went limp on of her.

“Shit,” Ellie lowered her gun, looking at Joel. “I thought we needed two.”

“Think we got two,” he stalked over to the man Ellie had hit in the shoulder. He was whimpering on the ground, clutching the hole that was gushing blood.

“Please,” he said, eyes wide. Joel ignored him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and dragging him to the man Tommy still had at gun point. He dropped the man there with a pained groan and he looked to the women, the one who had been a hostage sitting up next to the body of the man who’d had her.

“C’mere,” Joel said. They looked at each other quickly but stayed still. Joel, again, resisted the urge to yell. He didn’t have time for this. “Ellie, cut ‘em loose, tell ‘em how to get to Jackson if they want. Give ‘em whatever they need. See what they know.”

Joel turned his attention back to the man on the ground, going down on one knee beside him. He grabbed his hair in his fist, forcing his eyes to meet his own.

“You’re gonna tell me what I wanna know,” Joel said. “And you’re gonna do it quick. Understand?”

“Why would we tell you a goddamn thing?” The man below Tommy asked, watching Joel. His words were quick, panicky. Joel looked back at him for a moment before he ripped the injured man’s hand away from his wound with one hand and thrust his thumb inside the bullet hole, pressing up into the tendon below his skin. The man thrashed and screamed, the shrill sound sharp and cutting. Joel left his thumb jammed inside him until the other man spoke again, his eyes wide. “Fuck, OK! OK! What do you want to know, we’ll tell you! We’ll tell you, please!”

Joel pulled his thumb free of the man’s body and wiped the blood on a clean spot on his shirt, turning his full attention back to the man below him.

“Should get one thing straight now,” Joel said. His voice was flat. “I don’t mind hurtin’ you. In fact, I like it. Like gettin’ justice for everything you’ve done wrong in this life. I can promise you’ve done a lot wrong and I can promise I can make you pay for every goddamn ounce of it in blood. I know how to make it last. But I’m in a hurry and I want this over quick. It’s in your best interest to give me what I want. Got it?”

The man gave a shaky nod.

“Your boss has got my wife,” Joel said. “You split up. I need to know where he’s takin’ her.”

“He gave us a meet up point,” he said, voice shaking. “We were afraid of someone coming after her, he had us split up, he’s got her not us, I swear…”

Joel ground his teeth.

“Where.”

“I don’t know where he’s taking her,” he said quickly. “I know where we’re supposed to meet him tomorrow, that’s all! I swear, I don’t know where he’s going.”

Joel thrust his thumb inside the gunshot wound again, plunging it deeper, pulling harder at the structure of him as he screamed and writhed.

“No, stop!” The man below Tommy begged. “We don’t know, we don’t know! We just know he was taking her to trade, that’s all we know!”

Joel froze before pulling his thumb from his body. He grabbed the man’s hair again, forcing him to look at him.

“Trade?” His heart was pounding. “Trade for what.”

“Territory,” the man panted. “Please, there’s a guy who wants ‘er, promised us territory if we got her for him, that’s all I know. He was going to try and meet with him, see if they can cut a deal. If he couldn’t find him or couldn’t get what he wanted, he’s meeting us in the morning.”

Joel looked to Tommy, his face hard. Tommy just gave him a nod. It seemed like the truth. Joel turned back to the man.

“You’re gonna tell me where the rendezvous point is,” he said. “And you’re gonna keep it real quiet and then we’re gonna ask your friend the same question and he’d better say the same place as you. Got it?”

Joel leaned in close, the rattle of the man’s pained breaths hot and wet on his ear.

“North, ten miles,” he said. “Where the rivers meet.”

Joel sat back from him and looked to the other man.

“Now you,” he said. “Better say the same damn thing as your fuckin’ friend.”

The man’s eyes darted toward Tommy, who pressed the gun closer.

“Don’t look at me,” Tommy said. “I ain’t savin’ ya. You wanted to live? Shouldn’t have taken my brother’s girl. Answer the question.”

“North of here,” he said, looking back to Joel. “Said they’d be there in the morning, we were just stopping to rest for a bit, that’s all…”

“Where north of here.”

The man’s eyes darted to his friend before looking back at Joel.

“Ten miles or so,” he said. “There’s a spot where two rivers meet…”

Joel nodded slowly and looked to Tommy before getting his knife out.

“No,” the man below him shook his head. “No, I told you what you wanted to know, I didn’t lie, it was the truth I swear it was the truth!”

“Oh, I know it was,” Joel said, adjusting his grip on the knife. “But you took my daughters, took my wife. Not about to just let you live.”

He thrust the knife into the man’s stomach and he gasped, his eyes and mouth gaping wide in a silent scream. Joel angled the blade up, forcing it towards his lungs before twisting it and pulling it free with a harsh tear. He wiped the weapon on the man’s pants before getting to his feet, watching as he tried to hold himself together, not able to take a full breath. He’d drown in his own blood before too long and Joel wanted to watch him do it. This man had taken everything from him. He was owed his suffering.

“Joel,” Tommy said, nodding down at the remaining man at the end of his gun, one who was clearly about to make a run for it. He knew he was done for, he was desperate. “What are we doin’?”

“Shoot ‘im,” Joel said. “Not worth the risk.”

Tommy obeyed, the man dead even had a chance to flinch. Joel went back to watching the the first man gasp and gargle, fighting to breathe and failing. He should feel something, he knew that. He should feel guilt or some kind of pity. He didn’t. He barely even felt satisfaction. You were gone. He was hollow of everything beyond pain and fear and rage.

“Joel,” Ellie’s voice was quiet behind him. He turned to face her, her eyes wide as she looked between him and the dying man. He’d almost forgotten she was there.

“Get the women out?” Joel asked, shifting instinctively to block her view of the man suffering at his feet. She peered around him, anyway.

“Yeah,” she said. “They didn’t know anything. Gave them directions back to Jackson and some guns from these assholes. I don’t know that they’ll end up there but…”

She looked at the man again for a long moment before looking up at Joel.

“Did you get an answer?” She asked. “Do we know where Mom is?”

His chest got tight, hearing Ellie call you that, knowing that he shared children with you and you were gone.

“We know where Cody’s headed,” Joel said. “Let’s get what we can from here and head out.”

The three of them took ammunition and weapons and food from the dead before mounting up, Joel taking the lead again.

It only took a few hours to reach the place the men indicated. The group had stopped here before, Joel could tell. There were signs of fire pits, places where fallen logs had been dragged over for places to sit, cleared brush.

“What do we do now?” Ellie asked.

“We wait,” Joel said, not happy about his answer. How was he supposed to just sit here when you were out there, with them? But he didn’t have another choice.

They got the horses settled and found places to watch and wait where they should see people coming and have the advantage. Joel settled in, Ellie sitting beside him while Tommy kept watch.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” She asked eventually, quietly into the dark.

“Do what,” he asked, even though he knew.

“Hurt someone like that,” she said. “Make them give you information.”

Joel was quiet for a moment, twisting his wedding band over and over on his finger.

“You know some of what me ’n Tommy did after the outbreak,” he said. “Did some of that, too.”

She nodded slowly.

“You never talk about it.”

Joel shrugged. The sound of crickets seemed loud, louder than they should be.

“Not exactly somethin’ I’m proud of, baby girl.”

“But it’s useful,” she said pointedly.

He sighed.

“I’ve used it a few times since, when it’s important,” he said. “When it’s to protect you or her. It’s not somethin’ that’s good to know how to do.”

“I want to know how to protect people, too,” she said, her voice dark. “I have shit to protect, too, Dad. I want to know how.”

Joel sighed, looking over at her, the outline of her barely visible in the light of the moon as it filtered down through the trees.

He wanted to tell her that she didn’t need to know this stuff. That he would always be there to look after her, to do these ugly things that needed doing. But he knew that wasn’t true.

He’d doomed her to this life, in a way. One where she wanted to know how to pull answers out of someone with pain, how to turn the love you carried for the most important people in the world into a deadly weapon. There was no other way to be in this reality, one with infected and raiders and the last gasp of human kind struggling to continue on. If he’d left the doctor alive, at least, maybe things would be different. Maybe he’d have succeeded without Ellie, maybe the world would have been better for her eventually.

But he would have come after her and there was no point in fixing the world if it had to continue on without her in it. Good, bad, indifferent, there was no point to any of it if the price was her life. Hers or yours or Savvy’s, the three of you were all that mattered. And he liked knowing he had skills he could fall back on if he needed them.

“We’ll take care of what needs doin’ now,” Joel said. “Then we can talk.”

The three of them took turns keeping watch. Joel wasn’t able to sleep. Instead, he thought of you. How he’d had to coax you into life in Jackson, how you’d come to find your place there, how you’d chosen to do all that with him at your side.

There was a lot in this life he knew he didn’t deserve. He’d never deserved Sarah, that was for damn sure. The world hadn’t deserved her, either. He’d squandered the gift that was her existence, let her down when she’d needed him the most and he’d bourn that weight the rest of his life. He didn’t deserve Ellie, either. He certainly didn’t deserve you, something so strong but soft, vibrant but centering. You were meant for something more than him but you’d chosen him, anyway. He remembered when your fingers first brushed his, when he first heard you play guitar, when he first saw how you loved his daughter like she was your own. He wasn’t sure how he was meant to keep going if he didn’t get you back. What would be the point? Ellie was grown now. Savvy had survived all on her own for years and Ellie had taken her under her wing. They didn’t need him. But he needed you.

Dawn was just beginning on the horizon when Joel heard it, the sound of people coming in from the north. He roused Ellie and Tommy and the three of them stood, lying in wait amongst the trees, rifles at the ready.

Joel wanted to come out guns blazing but then he saw Cody, riding on horseback with just two other men.

They weren’t outnumbered. You weren’t with them.

Joel readied to step out from the trees, rifle raised.

“Joel,” Tommy hissed.

“Go around the side,” he said, voice low. “Kill the others. But he’s mine.”

He moved from behind shelter then, weapon leveled at Cody’s chest.

“Cody!” Joel called, watching as the men’s heads all whipped around to focus on him, scrambling for rifles. “You have what’s mine.”

Cody lifted a hand to his henchmen and they lowered their weapons as he smirked at Joel.

“Think she was mine before she was yours,” he sneered. “Seems to me I just took back what got away.”

“Where is she,” Joel said, prowling closer, straining to keep his voice calm.

“Back where she belongs,” he said, fishing in his pocket for something. He found it, pulling it out, unwrapping it from a kerchief and throwing it onto the leaves at Joel’s feet. “But you can have the part of her you laid claim to.”

Joel looked down and his vision narrowed to a sharp, bloody point. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, the soreness of his legs and back and the pain at his ear that had been nagging at him suddenly gone. His hands shook as he dropped the rifle and lowered himself, slowly, to the ground. Lying there were two fingers. Your fingers. The wedding band that had been there since Joel had slipped it onto you was bloody, ragged flesh dangling from the ring he’d made you.

Something inside of Joel snapped then. It was a sharp, clean break, one that he could he could feel deep at the core of him. A severing of his humanity, a setting aside of the things that made him who he was. The love he held for his family, the care he had for the place he called home, the remaining parts of him that were gentle and good - those things were closed to him now. Joel Miller had been called monster many times in his life but he knew he’d never become one. Not truly. He knew it because this had always been there, lurking below the surface, brought forward when he needed it most but always controlled, always contained. It wasn’t contained now. It couldn’t be.

Joel left the gun on the ground, gently picking up your fingers - sticky and cool - and putting them delicately in his pocket before getting to his feet.

“Thought about sending you back with her whole hand but,” Cody shrugged. “Mitchum has use for it. Nothing she can’t do down a few fingers, though.”

Joel didn’t even see Ellie and Tommy getting into position when he roared and lunged for Cody, ready to kill him with his bare hands.

***

The Day Before

“Move.”

You glared at Cody, your wrists chained in front of you.

“Not telling you again,” he said. “They’re still close enough, we could run ‘em down if you want to try me.”

Your stomach got tight.

“Fine,” you said. “Let’s go.”

He split his men into three groups, hauling the man you’d killed to the brush and leaving his body behind. There were three women you hadn’t seen yet, one going with one of the groups, two with another. You didn’t get a chance to say anything to either of them, just sharing a look of desperation before you were led away.

“You’re going to regret this,” you said as he shoved you forward.

“Why, because you’re fucking guard dog is going to run me down?” He sneered. “Think we’ll handle him just fine. Besides, by the time he finds us, you’ll be long gone.”

You followed his command, trudging through the forest and trying to find some way to leave a trail to follow. Joel would come for you. It would likely be hours yet before he was back from patrol, hopefully long after Ellie and Savvy made it back to town. You knew he’d come looking for you the moment he discovered you were gone, that he’d do anything to get to you. You just needed to make sure he could find you and that you were in one piece when he did.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked once you’d been walking for hours, looking at Cody. “You said you knew it was wrong, you helped me. Now you’re doin’ this? Takin’ me and other women?”

“Let’s just say I learned my lesson with you, Doll,” he said. “Could try to be a ‘good’ man all I wanted, try to do the ‘right’ thing but it wouldn’t get me anywhere. Not like there’s much left here to live for, right? I should just take what I want while I can, no one is going to give it to me, even if I deserve it.”

“Deserve it?” You stopped and turned to face him. “You think you deserved something from me? You held me prisoner, you fucking raped me, you…”

His backhand caught you off guard, sending you sprawling to the ground, unable to catch yourself with your bound hands. He stood astride over you, grabbing your face sharply and forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t fucking call it that,” he hissed. “That’s not what it was.”

You spat in his face.

“Fuck you.”

He squared his jaw, like he was considering doing something more to you before he straightened, wiping your spit from his cheek.

“Get her up,” he said. “We’ll stop here for a bit, take a break. Make her take a piss, get her cleaned up a little. Maybe we’ll have some fun before we hand her over.”

You hoped the fear didn’t show on your face, that the way your stomach dropped and heart stuttered wasn’t obvious.

It’s not like you didn’t know, consciously, what this was all leading to, what you were going back to. You’d been there for long enough before, you knew what it was and what this meant.

But you weren’t sure you could survive it again. It had nearly killed you before. If you hadn’t escaped when you had, you weren’t sure how much longer you would have really lasted living that way and now you were going back to it. It would be worth it to protect your children but the fear of it was still there, the claws of it sharp and harsh inside you.

Cody smirked.

“Maybe I’ll show you just how nice I was before,” he said. “Show you what you took for-granted.”

Two men pulled you roughly to your feet and shoved you into the trees, off the trail you’d been walking. Your chest got tight and your stomach turned and you found yourself flexing your fingers, clenching and unclenching your hands into fists as you tried to focus. Your vision threatened to narrow but you forced yourself to see beyond your own body, think beyond the fact that your lungs couldn’t seem to fill and your head was getting light.

The men pushed you for a few minutes away from the rest, toward a stream. One stayed further back, watching the forest for signs of infected or someone who might come to take you.

“Alright,” the other said, nodding to you. “You heard ‘im. Piss, get cleaned up.”

“You think I’m gonna just do that with you watching?” You sneered, brows raised.

He stalked forward, drawing his gun and pressing it to your chin.

“You really think I won’t blow your goddamn head off?” He asked, his breath reeking of rot and liquor.

“No,” you smirked back. “Your boss has you by the balls. You can’t do shit to me.”

He stepped back and you saw the strike coming that time, dodging it enough that he caught your cheekbone more than your chin and you stayed standing.

“I can do that,” he snapped. “And I’ll do it again.”

“Go ahead,” you said. “Because you’re a little bitch. I’ve had good sex that hurt worse than that.”

He bared his teeth and he went for you again.

But he was stupid and big and slow and you knew where he was going to be now. You dodged him, not fully thinking and with no real plan. He stumbled where you’d been standing and you stepped behind him, looping your arms around his neck and pulling back so the chain constricted on his throat.

He choked and gasped, dropping his gun on instinct as he clawed at your arms, trying rip himself free and trying to make a sound but you were pulling too hard, the other man too far to hear or see what was happening.

The weight of him thrashing against you sent you off balance and you fell, taking him down with you, his body heavy on top of yours. But you didn’t give in, keeping the chain tight over his throat as he kicked and flailed. You held it there until he went limp and you released him, shoving his body off yourself and panting for breath as you did. You didn’t have time to get the feeling back in your body or to ease the panic, though. It was sheer fucking luck the other man who was standing just out of sight hadn’t heard something and you had to take care of this now.

You found the gun where the man you’d killed - thought you’d killed, at least, you weren’t about to risk shooting him - had dropped it and took a guess at what direction to run in.

You didn’t make it far.

“Hey!” You heard the crush of leaves, someone moving for you. “Fuck, she’s running!”

You turned and shot, the first bullet going wide as your hands shook but you were able to keep it together enough to get off another shot, this one hitting him square in the chest and he dropped like a stone.

You kept running.

You weren’t sure how long you ran for when you heard them, the men closing in on you. You couldn’t afford to look back and take the time to shoot, you had to keep moving, even as the sound pressed closer and your head was swimming. And then a hand closed on the collar of your shirt - Joel’s shirt - and ripped you back and down. You twisted on the ground, trying to aim the gun but it was kicked away from you.

“You’re gonna regret that you little bitch,” the man panted over you. “We could’ve made this easy on you. We ain’t now.”

He hauled you to your feet by your bound hands and forced you back to where the group had stopped, finding the two other men who had been sent after you on the way. Cody was standing where you’d stopped before, a small fire built on a patch of dirt in the middle of the trail.

“You really think that was the smartest thing you could have done?” He asked, his voice almost eerily calm.

“Did you really think I was just gonna let you hand me over?” You replied. “That I’d just go quietly into being a prisoner?”

“I guess that’s why Mitchum’s so obsessed with you, isn’t it?” He asked, prowling closer. You wanted to shrink away but you couldn’t, not with the man at your back. “Because you just keep that fight in you. You didn’t give up like the others and he’s a man who likes a little fight.”

He nodded toward the stump of a tree and the man at your back shoved you to it, forcing you to your knees beside it.

“Thing is,” Cody said, pulling his knife free of its sheath at his belt. “You don’t need to be… intact for the shit he likes best about you.”

Your eyes darted. You were surrounded, there was nowhere you could go and nothing you could reach.

“Don’t be too worried about it,” he continued, kneeling on the other side of the stump. “Think he’d be pretty pissed if we took your whole hand, for example. But I don’t think he’ll miss a few fingers.”

Your heart raced, the blood pounding in your ears.

“That a risk you want to take?” You fought to keep your voice calm as you clutched your hands tightly to your body. “You really want to go through all this trouble for nothing?”

He shrugged.

“Think we’ll be fine.”

The man at your back took your wrist in his grasp and shoved your arms down to the jagged wood of the stump, your hands clenched in tight fists. Cody took your left one and pulled at your fingers, trying to pry it open as you grimaced and fought him on it. After a moment, he gave up.

“Fine,” he said. “Don’t want to cooperate?”

He took the knife and slammed it through your forearm, on the side of it so it missed bone, making you scream as the blade went through the muscle and skin and into the wood on the other side. Your hand went limp on instinct and Cody spread your fingers with one hand, holding the other out. Another man handed him a knife and he lined it up with the base of your ring and pinky finger, smirking a little as he did.

“Would you look at that,” he traced your wedding band and you tried to look at your hand through the blur of pain and tears. “The feral woman got hitched. You marry that animal of yours, that it?”

You considered begging. If you thought it had even a chance at working, you’d have done it. But it didn’t.

“Fuck you,” you said instead.

“Think this’ll make for a nice keepsake of you, if he ever comes looking,” he said, pressing the knife in just enough that you could feel it, even through the pain of the blade still lodged in your arm. “Wedding ring won’t mean much where you’re going, anyway.”

He started cutting then, the automatic response your body had to pull away ripping and tearing against the knife holding you to the wood. You couldn’t look away from it, even though what little there was in your stomach was threatening to come up and the pain had deafened all the sound around you. You weren’t sure if you were screaming or not but you couldn’t breathe and couldn’t think as you watched part of your body be cut away.

Cody finished, wiping the knife on your shirt - Joel’s shirt - before passing it back to one of his men. He held your bloody, jagged fingers up, turning them slowly in front of his face. You could hear again, the ragged sound of your breath and the rustle of leaves on the trees, the breeze moving through as though you weren’t being dismantled on the forest floor.

“Think your guard dog will even still want you now?” He asked, holding them in front of you. Your blood dropped from them onto the sleeve of the shirt. “Not sure he’ll be interested in such… damaged goods.”

You stared at the fingers in his grip in disbelief. It didn’t seem real, the things you’d used to play guitar and grip the reins of your horse and hold your husband’s hand were separate from you now. You remembered, for a moment, marrying Joel. The clarity of it was almost visceral, how he’d taken the ring that was now slick with your blood and slipped it onto the finger that was dangling before your eyes. It was a part of you then. It wasn’t now.

Cody held his empty hand out and the man he’d given the knife to returned it.

“No,” you shook your head, your voice wet and raspy. “Please, I…”

“Not taking anything else,” he said, his tone almost kind. “Just going to make sure you don’t bleed out on us.”

With that, he pressed the blade to the place he’d cut part of you away and you screamed, the metal scalding hot. You realized they must have put it in the fire, using the heat to cauterize the wound. Without warning, one of the men pulled the knife that was still in your arm free and the heated blade moved there, too. You could smell your skin burning, the man at your back holding you still as your body fought to escape the pain of it. They moved you around like a rag doll, cauterizing the other side of your arm, too, before stepping back from you.

“There,” Cody stood, handing the knife off and taking a kerchief from his pocket, wrapping your bloody fingers in it before stashing them away. “Now you should know I’m not fucking around. Get up. We’ve wasted enough time on this shit and Mitchum won’t wait on us forever.”

The man behind you pulled you to your feet by your shoulders and you swayed on your feet for a moment, your head swimming before you doubled over, vomiting mostly bile before your legs gave out, the man catching you before you hit the ground.

“Shit,” Cody’s voice sounded far away. “We’ll have to find a way to move her…”

You passed out.

When you woke up, it was dark, a hand around your jaw.

“There she is,” Cody said, releasing you and patting your cheek twice. “Need you up and walking, can’t trade you half dead. Move.”

You tried to orient yourself, get some kind of understanding. You weren’t where you’d been when you’d passed out. You were on some kind of makeshift litter, your left arm and hand throbbing dully. Your hand was bandaged. Cody grabbed a fistful of your shirt, pulling you upright and you all but collapsed against him, stumbling as you tried to find your footing. The second you did, you pulled away from him. You couldn’t bear to touch him, even if that meant you ended up on the ground again.

“Just gotta make it about 100 yards,” he nodded toward a flickering glow in the distance. “Then you’re not my problem anymore.”

He nudged you in that direction and you moved, almost mindlessly. You weren’t strong enough to fight it. You were barely strong enough to walk. You cradled your injured arm to your body as best you could, watching as the glow of the fire drew closer.

“Stop right there,” an unfamiliar voice said, a man coming through the trees with his rifle raised. But he lowered it as he drew closer, looking the group you were with up and down. “Cody. Starting to wonder if you weren’t going to make it.”

“Got held up,” he said. “But I got what he’s after, if he still wants to meet.”

The guard just jerked his head toward the fire and led the way, you trailing along behind him with Cody and his men at your back.

The fire was in the middle of a large clearing, one with a cluster of about 20 men around it, the man you feared more than any other sitting at the back of it.

A wide smile came over his face when he saw you, the spread of it sinister and slow.

“Well well,” Mitchum said, getting to his feet and walking closer. He was still so much bigger than you, tall and broad and you knew just how well he could force you to do what he wanted. “The prodigal son returns, with my favorite toy no less.”

“Told you I could get her,” Cody said, pushing you toward him. “And I believe we had an agreement.”

“Sure, sure,” Mitchum waved him off before looking you up and down, just feet away from you now. Your head spun. “Jackson is yours when we take it down, as is anyone who survives. S’long as you remember who gave it to you.”

Mitchum reached out, grabbing your injured hand roughly and you cried out with it as he pulled your arm toward him.

“The fuck is this?” He held it up. “Thought I told you I wanted her intact, there’s no deal if you fucking maimed her.”

Cody shrugged.

“She killed two of my men,” he said.

Mitchum dropped your hand and clenched his jaw before snatching his gun from its holster and shooting Cody’s man who was at your side, making you flinch away from the sound.

“You think I give a fuck how many of your men make it?” He asked. “You think their lives matter? Got fuckin’ news for you, theirs don’t and neither does yours so you better do a damn good job of explaining why you brought her to me damaged.”

“She tried to take off,” Cody said, eyes darting down to the man who was dead on the ground. “Had to do something to keep her under control. Figured you’d want her at all, even if that meant damaged.”

Mitchum holstered the gun with a huff and pulled you away from Cody, your skin crawling where he touched you.

“Well, she’s back where she belongs now,” he passed you off to one of his men before turning back to Cody. “Jackson’s yours, when we take it.”

“And I want horses,” Cody said. “For my trouble.”

Mitchum seemed to think for a moment before giving him a stiff nod.

“Fine, three horses,” he said, waving them forward. “Take ‘em and go. Don’t want to see you again for a while or else I might change my mind.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Cody smirked before looking to you. “Told you you should have given me what I deserved.”

You didn’t say anything. Instead you just stood there, in the hold of one of Mitchum’s henchmen, watching as the man who’d stolen your freedom rode off into the night.

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust @ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost @beccerjune @mumma-moonchild @netonetoneto @mellymbee @purplelye @n7cje @flugazi @evyiione @randomhoex @aliengirl99 @orcasoul @reds-ramblings @pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel @jenispunk @panda-pascal @sarap-77 @flugazi @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @partyofone3413 @cumberpegg @noisynightmarepoetry. @fifia-writes @grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123 @ashleyfilm @arizonadreamingg

A/N: I know it's a rough chapter but... feral!Joel?

We've only seen the beginning of him, he's about to go on a rampage like no other I can promise you that.

Also, I'm sorry for making this chapter quite so brutal. I really didn't want them to get off easy in this situation, I wanted to make sure we know that there are going to be some long term repercussions from all this - in this case, Bambi's missing fingers. They live in a brutal world and they're facing brutal things and I wanted this to be reflective of that.

Thanks for sticking with the story. I really do love you all!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #yearling #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc

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guess-my-next-obsession · 2 days

Text

Guilty as Sin? - Chapter Two

pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader

rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, lots of yearning, derrick disappoints us, javier flirts...kinda, law school stuff that i'm researching as i go so bare with me actual lawyers and law students, mentions of a crime/DV (used as an example), reader wears skirts (for the sake of future smut)

word count: 3.8k

series masterlist

After a long night of imagining Dr. Peña’s stern eyes peering into yours from between your thighs, it was time to face him yet again. With his Criminal Law class Monday through Wednesday, and his Intro to Forensics lab Wednesday through Friday, it seemed you’d have to learn to get used to his dizzying effect on you or else you’d never get a full night of sleep. It didn’t help that both Nina and Alondra had guests over last night, their explicit noises forcing you into sleeping with headphones on.

Ears aching and eyes tired, you carried on with your day as usual. New lectures in Advanced Forensics and Criminal Profiling in the morning, and Dr. Peña’s class in the afternoon. Derrick followed you around in between classes, eager to prove himself to you by buying your latte and carrying your bag—even when you insisted you were fully capable of doing both on your own.

You weren’t sure what had gotten into him over the summer while he was away with his family in the Hamptons—a luxury you could only imagine as you spent your summer working as an underpaid secretary for a law firm. Perhaps it had to do with his older brother’s engagement and recent promotion to an attending physician that compelled him to be so pushy when it came to you. Unfortunately for him, you had no interest in getting married this young, not when you still had so much to prove.

“Hopefully there’s a seat in the back today,” he said, opening the door to the lecture hall for you. While he may have a good reason for not wanting to be the center of Dr. Peña’s attention again, there was a decent sized part of you that adored his attention—even if it meant a scolding. Maybe especially if it meant that.

“Yeah,” you lied, swallowing down your nerves as you stepped into a much more crowded room than yesterday. You scanned the room, now full of hopeful women and men who must have heard about Dr. Peña’s looks and transferred out of their old classes to get a glimpse of the man. Only five seats remained, four of them scattered around the auditorium and one in the front row.

“Shit,” Derrick swore, scanning the room. “Guess we have to split up.”

You fought away the smirk threatening to spread across your face and frowned. “Sucks. Well, I’m gonna be in the front.”

“So he can pick on you?” Derrick asked, raising a brow. “There’s a seat near the back, take that one.”

“I’m fine,” you assured, giving him a glare to admonish whatever control he thought he had over what you chose to do. He scoffed, watching you as you made your way down the steps of the hall to the front row where you found a seat beside a girl you were friendly with during undergrad, Mayte. “Is this seat open?”

“Yeah,” she chirped with a smile, moving her bag from the seat to let you sit down. “Crazy how full this class is. I don’t feel like it was this packed yesterday.”

“It wasn’t,” you chuckled, unpacking your notebook and pen.

Striding in in a red button down and almost skin tight black slacks that you couldn’t help but notice bulged out at the zipper, the reason for all the new transfers became clear. The hush that fell over the room was telling, a silence that filled you with so much jealousy you thought you might be sick.

“Afternoon,” he greeted, setting his back down in his chair. After pulling out a stack of papers, he gave the room a quick once over, his shock written in the lift of his brows. “Full house today.”

The room filled with flirty laughter, your eyes rolling in response. Heading over to Mayte who sat at the start of the row, Dr. Peña handed her the stack of papers, his eyes flickering towards yours as he spoke, “Take one, pass it down.”

You looked away, the window now seeming far more interesting than it had a second ago.

“Today’s lecture will be on the fundamental elements of crime,” he said, reaching his podium. Hearing your name called, you shrank a bit in your seat. Still, that thrill of earning his attention raced through your veins, daring you to meet his eyes. “Can you tell the class what these elements are?”

You nodded, flipping to the page in your notebook you’d filled out the night before while studying. “The fundamental elements of a crime are actus reus, mens rea, and causation.”

The corner of his mouth tilted upwards as he gave you a nod, his eyes hesitantly shifting from yours to the row behind you. “Mr. Velasquez, define actus reus for me.”

“Actus reus refers to the act of committing a crime, either knowingly or unknowingly,” he said.

“Very good,” Dr. Peña commended. “Simply put, actus reus—which is Latin for guilty act—refers to the ‘what’ in a crime. These criminal actions must be considered voluntary and done during a lucid state to constitute a crime. For example, a sober man comes home from a hard day at work and assaults his wife. This act was done both in a conscious state and by his own volition. Now, if the wife were to be in a state of survival and had no other choice than to respond to the assault with an extreme measure, this is an entirely different story and does not meet the qualifications for actus reus.”

“Murder is murder, isn’t it?” Derrick asked from somewhere in the middle row, causing you to roll your eyes. Did he really not understand the difference between murder and self defense this far into the law program?

“Murder is murder, and survival is survival, Mr. Crawley,” Dr. Peña explained, crossing his arms over his shoulders. “Do you disagree with this logic?”

“Sort of, yeah,” he said, matching Dr. Peña’s arrogance without possessing any of the charm. “There are ways to defend yourself without killing someone?”

“Do you think these victims have the time to strategize when they have a gun pressed to their temple? If there’s a blade to their throat?” he challenged. “They do what they have to do to survive. It’s not our place as lawyers to judge them, it’s our job to uphold the law.”

“Laws that are written with double standards,” Derrick scoffed, earning a shush that sounded an awful lot like Nina.

“Perhaps if you make it to the end of the program you can change things,” Dr. Peña smirked, glancing at you before turning back to your friend who was looking an awful lot like a stranger these days. “But I’m not so certain that’ll be the case for you, Mr. Crawley.”

After the scene that was class, you met up with Alondra at the library, both of you determined to avoid the noise that came along with Derrick having his male friends over at the apartment. Beyond the obnoxious volume they all spoke at, you hated the way they watched you, whispering amongst themselves about how jealous they were that Derrick got to live with three beautiful girls—nevermind the fact that none of you wanted anything to do with him in that sense.

“What are you doing your paper on for Arman’s class?” Alondra asked as she typed on her laptop.

“Not sure yet,” you said, taking a bite out of the banana you’d hoped would fuel you until dinner. “Maybe capital punishment.”

“That’s good,” she commended. “I was thinking of analyzing the process of trying someone with psychological disorders.”

“Still interested in criminal psych?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve done the psychology route instead, but there was no way I was going to convince my parents to fund that.”

“Why not?” you frowned.

“They don’t think mental illness is a real thing, which is funny considering they both exhibit traits of bipolar disorder and narcissism,” she laughed, hiding her trauma behind a thin veil of humor like she always did. Not that you minded it. The whole expressing your feelings thing never really came that easily to you. “Oh, shit. I forgot to tell you something.”

“Oh, no,” you winced.

“So rumor has it that you and Derrick have a little date on Friday?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, shaking your head. “I just want to get it over and done with so he’ll drop the whole thing. I mean, four years into being friends and I never felt a thing for him. Does he really think that changed overnight?”

“Knowing him, probably,” she chuckled. “Anyways, I heard from a very credible source—“

“Sabina,” you guessed.

“Maybe,” she blushed. “Anyways, she told me that on the first night back, Derrick hooked up with an undergrad and caught a case of the clap.”

“Shut up,” you gasped. “Chlamydia? At his grown age?”

“I know,” she laughed. “So, just be careful if you decide to—“

“Believe me, I had no intentions of fucking him before and I sure as hell have none now,” you assured, cringing at the thought.

“Interesting conversation for a library, isn’t it?” Dr. Peña’s warm timbre sent a chill up your spine as he stood behind your chair, Alondra’s eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

“We were just…gossiping,” she offered, shrugging the embarrassment off. “Women, am I right?”

“Two very bright women who’d be far better off studying,” he challenged.

You refused to turn around, his leather and vetiver scent combined with his proximity already too much for your system of self restraint to handle. Instead, you flipped the page of your textbook in strained silence.

“I actually was hoping to speak to you about tomorrow’s lab,” he continued, now speaking directly to you.

“8 p.m., got it,” you said, your tone clipped with frustration at your dirty mind.

“It was actually in reference to your…clothing,” he returned, causing Alondra to raise a brow as she pretended to resume her typing. Turning in your seat, you peered up at him with furrowed brows.

“What about my clothing?” you inquired.

“You seem to wear a lot of dresses and skirts,” he noted, though he looked as if it was torture to even have this conversation. “I just wanted to remind you that appropriate PPE is required for all labs, which means—“

“Pants. Understood,” you said, turning back to your book.

“Good,” he managed, almost sounding as if he’d lost his voice with how strained his tone was. “I’ll leave the two of you to your gossiping and studying, then.”

Alondra watched as he walked past your table, his hands tucked into his pocket as if he owned the place.

“Hot,” she whispered, biting her lip. “I’m pretty gay, but that tension…”

“There’s no tension, he’s just a dick,” you snapped, feeling your cheeks heat as you replayed the interaction over and over in your head.

He really paid that much attention to you? So much so that he felt compelled to remind you of lab etiquette you learned back in high school?

The delusional part of your mind swooned while the logical part recoiled.

“Please show up in a mini skirt,” she begged, her hands clasped together in front of her chest. Snorting at herself, she proceeded to mimic his deep voice, “I thought I told you no mini skirts.”

“I’m begging you to shut the fuck up,” you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“Yes, I’ve been such a naughty girl, Professor.”

“Would you look at that. Seems like it’s time for me to get the fuck out of here,” you said, closing your book and shoving it into your bag.

“Don’t be like that, I’m just trying to paint an image,” she teased, laughing as you hustled to get your things packed.

“Sorry, I’ve got a date with my bed,” you snarked, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“How convenient,” she smirked, tapping her pen against her chin. “I give you a brand new fantasy and now you’re off to bed.”

“Someone’s moans kept me up all night so I’m exhausted,” you retorted, laughing at the way she kept staring you with that knowing look of hers. “Fuck off.”

“Love you more,” she called as you turned and walked away.

After another night of restless sleep and inappropriate fantasies of Dr. Peña’s hands sliding up your skirt, it was time for yet another day of this back and forth. You’d expected Derrick to keep his distance after his humiliating interaction during CrimLaw, perhaps brood about like he usually did when things didn’t go his way, but it was business as usual today. He followed you around like a lost dog, talking your ear off about his upcoming project for his mock trial in his Criminal Procedures class as you wandered off in your mind to a reality where he hadn’t changed into this hyper masculine man you didn’t recognize.

“I’m excited,” he beamed, rubbing his hands together. “First time to prove myself in a courtroom.”

“An artificial court room,” you clarified, earning a scowl. “Hey, I have to get to Peña’s lab.”

“We’re, uh, still good for Friday, right?” he asked, catching your elbow as you moved to walk away.

“If you want,” you shrugged, looking down at where he still gripped your arm. “I should get going.”

He nodded, letting your arm go. “I’ll see you at home.”

After managing to ditch Derrick, you assumed your walk to Dr. Peña’s lecture hall would give you a moment of respite, but of course fate had different plans.

You didn’t even recognize him until he was already approaching with a cocky grin and his arms held out wide. Micah, the man who’d ruined your entire undergrad experience with all of his back and forth bullshit. You fought the urge to scrunch your nose in disgust over his new mullet and pitiful mustache he likely spent all summer growing.

“Hey,” he chimed your name, creating an absurd desire inside you to change it just so you’d never have to hear it on his lips again. You feigned confusion, as if you could ever forget those green eyes that still haunted every dream. “Shit, you don’t recognize me.” He laughed. “It’s Micah.”

“Oh. Hey.” Your greeting was as strained as your smile.

“You’re looking good,” he praised, admiring you from top to bottom. You cringed at his appraisal, at his ignorance over the entire situation. “How’s, uh, how’s law school?”

“Fine,” you replied, clipped and cold.

“Why’re you acting like that?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. Oh, the amount of money you’d pay for the chance to slap that arrogant smirk right off his face. “You still holding onto all that old shit?”

“Four years of emotional abuse will do that,” you replied. “Anyways, I have to be somewhere.”

“C’mon, all your friends forgave me for that shit. Why can’t you?”

Maybe today would be the day you finally lost your shit on him and ended up in jail. Though, that would mean missing Dr. Peña’s lab and you certainly couldn’t miss out on the chance to ogle him.

“They forgave you because they weren’t the ones you fucked over,” you explained, choosing to be mature even when it ached. “So I get to decide when I want to forgive you. Not the other way around. And just as a good rule of thumb, I don’t plan on forgiving you anytime soon.”

“So what, we just avoid each other?” he frowned, daring to act as though he was hurt.

“That’s the goal,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “Besides, won’t be long now until you flunk out since I’m not around to write your essays anymore.”

“Fucking bitch,” he hissed, signaling your cue to walk the fuck away before you did something that would end up with you in a jail cell. “And you wonder why I cheated!”

Shaking your head to clear out all the memories of nights spent sobbing on the floor or in Nina’s bed because yours reminded you of him too much, you marched off towards the lecture hall with five minutes to spare. Thankfully unlike your Criminal Law lecture, you didn’t have to worry about finding a seat given the fact that you’d be sitting at the front of class in a desk designated to the TA.

You passed rows of undergrads whispering and laughing amongst themselves, all of them blissfully unaware of the storm heading their way. As you reached the front of the class, Dr. Peña walked in with the same frown of disapproval he wore on the first day of your lecture.

“Evening,” he greeted, silencing the room with one simple word. He shot you a glance, doing a double take as he noticed you were still unpacking your bag and getting settled.

“You’re late,” he scolded in a whisper as he walked over to your desk, the cinnamon on his breath invading your senses.

“I’m five minutes early,” you challenged as you opened your notebook and jotted down the date, well aware of the sea of freshman and sophomore eyes trained on the two of you.

“I need you here at seven-thirty,” he ordered. “I had to prep by myself.”

“I apologize,” you sighed, half due to your run in with Micah and half due to the ever present exhaustion of trying to keep your fantasies of your demanding professor at bay. “I’ll be on time tomorrow.”

“That would be appreciated,” he snarked, shaking his head as he wandered back to the center podium with a clearing of his throat. “Welcome to Intro to Forensics. I’m Dr. Peña, you’ll refer to me as such this semester—not dude, not bro, and certainly no nicknames. I’m not your friend, I’m here to teach you. Understood?”

God, he was a dick. A beautiful, wound up dick that you couldn’t stop thinking about.

“This is your TA for the semester,” he introduced you by name, and something about the way it sounded on his lips caused your breath to hitch. “She’ll be here to help during labs as well as tutoring on her own time. If you have questions about the material or assignments, I suggest you speak with her first. You’ll find her tutoring hours on the syllabus.”

You frowned a bit as you thought about the whole tutoring part of being a professor’s assistant. Spending your weeknights at the library helping out undergrads sounded like pure torture at this point in your life, but at least the extra cash would go a long way towards covering your bills.

“Today we’ll be covering DNA fingerprinting,” he said, pulling up a slideshow presentation. “Can anyone tell me how exactly this process works?”

A pretty freshman shot her hand up before he’d even finished speaking, curdling your stomach with jealousy you knew you had no right to feel. “Yes, Miss…?”

“You can just call me Jess,” she smiled, tucking a piece of her caramel brown hair behind her ears.

“No. What’s your last name?” he sighed.

“Jacobs,” she sputtered, her cheeks turning a shade of red. “DNA fingerprinting uses nucleotide sequences in DNA to determine who the fingerprints belong to.”

“Very good,” he nodded. “And what are nucleotides?”

“I…um, I don’t know,” she admitted, that sparkling smile now long gone as she stared down at her book.

“Figured,” he chided, skipping to the next slide. “Your knowledge doesn’t mean a thing if you can’t explain it.”

Watching him talk down to a student shouldn’t have stirred you the way that it did. In fact, if he’d been any other man talking to a woman that way, you’d have detested him. But there was something about Dr. Peña that poisoned your mind in his favor, a very annoying thing you now had to add to your list of shit to sort out upstairs.

After a relatively silent lab where the students had to match DNA samples to their rightful owner, it was nearing ten o’clock, the pitch black sky outside beckoning you to hurry the fuck up and get to bed. Of course, nature was forgetting your very demanding professor who seemed dead set on wearing you out in all the wrong ways.

“You take half, I’ll take half,” he suggested, splitting the stack of worksheets in two and handing you your share as you sat in his private office that was adjoined to the lecture hall. “Should be finished quickly enough.”

“Is there any way I can just do these at home?” you asked, your eyelids growing heavier with each blink.

He studied you for a beat, those brown eyes traversing every single feature, every inch from head to toe as if he was searching for something. “If you’d prefer.”

“I’m just really tired,” you admitted, suddenly feeling small under his gaze. “Don’t want to accidentally fall asleep in your office.”

“That would be inconvenient,” he chuckled, and god, what a sound. “Grade them wherever you’d like, just make sure you drop them off tomorrow morning.”

Nodding, you grabbed your bag and carefully tucked the papers inside.

“Tomorrow morning,” you echoed.

“I look forward to it,” he smiled, a fleeting thing that disappeared the moment you turned to look at him. “Have a good night.”

You took in a slow inhale and offered him a more lasting smile. “You too, Professor.”

“And don’t worry about the PPE tomorrow,” he added, stopping you as you moved to leave the room. Raising your brow at him, he looked entirely unphased, his eyes once again combing you over before he seemed to realize himself. “No lab, just a lecture.”

“Right,” you said, biting your lip. “I’ll be sure to wear my shortest skirt.”

Did you really just say that? Out loud?

Dr. Peña cracked a smile and shook his head, turning back to his desktop. “I wouldn’t want you to cause a scene.”

“I’m not sure the sight of me in a skirt is scene worthy.”

He tilted his head to the side in consideration, his eyes still locked on his screen.

“I’d beg to differ,” he said, wearing that taunting fucking smirk as he typed. “Anyways, be safe getting home.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled—at him, at yourself, at everything. “Night, Dr. Peña.”

“Good night,” he smiled.

And just like that, you discovered a way to taunt him the way he taunted you by just existing.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier peña fic #javier peña x reader #javi peña #javier peña smut #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena fic #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier peña fluff #javier pena x you #javier pena fluff #guilty as sin?

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hanni-bae44 · 2 days

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Title: When I Was Your Man (Wooyoung)

Pairing- Wooyoung x fem!reader (ft. Yunho)

Genre- angst, suggestive, fluff if you squint (warnings: mature language, mentions of sex, cheating & alcohol)

Word Count- 9.9k

Summary- The story in which Wooyoung didn’t know how good he had it with you until you were no longer his. Alternatively, you’ve moved on with someone who made you happy now. Someone who didn’t take you for granted. And Wooyoung didn’t like how it wasn’t him.

A/N- This story is inspired by the songs When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars & Just A Dream by Nelly, so please give them a listen if you want :) Also, Italicized scenes represent flashbacks. Disclaimer: this fic is in no way meant to portray Wooyoung irl, it’s just fiction :D

“How do I look?” You twirled around in your flowy white sundress and you looked absolutely stunning in Wooyoung’s eyes.

“You look gorgeous, babe.” He couldn’t take his eyes off you as he stood up from the picnic blanket to walk towards you. His hands went on your waist, pulling you closer towards him. While your arms snaked around his neck. There was a sparkle in your eyes and Wooyoung swore he saw the whole galaxy in them. He could see how much love you had for him and his heart swelled from it all. He wanted this moment to last forever. He wanted you to be his forever.

The sun was bright as it shined down on the both of you but it wasn’t hot. The weather was breezy, the grass was green, and the blue sky was clear. The day was perfect for what he had planned and he couldn’t wait to surprise you with the ring.

It was your fourth year anniversary and he just wanted to make this day perfect for you. You loved picnics and nature so here he was at the Han River. He prepared your favorite flowers and even cooked your favorite foods. He couldn’t wait to recount this special moment to his future kids one day. To tell them that this was where he proposed to their mother. It was a memorable place too since it was where you both had your first date. He still remembered the early days where he’d chase after you because you’d turn down his efforts. It was hard to score a date with you but he knew you had your reasons. He used to be the type to mess around and had a bad reputation so he didn’t blame you. If he was you, he wouldn’t have given him a chance either.

But thanks to that one date where you gave him a chance despite everyone telling you not to, he found the love of his life. And here she was, beautiful as ever.

“Do you see us together as an old couple?” you randomly asked, causing Wooyoung to raise a brow.

“What?” There was a smirk creeping at his lips. You were so cute with your random questions.

“I was just thinking. We’d look cute together with our gray hair and all, don't you think?” You were playing with the back of his hair and looking at him like he was your whole world.

“Yeah we would." The way you smiled at him made him feel like a teenage boy all over again. He was so happy. "I love you,” he mumbled.

“I love you too.” Your voice was gentle. Gosh, he loved your voice. Your eyes were glossy and full of admiration too and he could just tell you were about to lean in for a kiss. So before you could, he backed up and got on one knee, pulling a ring out of his pocket.

“Y/N, will you marry me?” It was insane how alive you made him feel. What did he ever do before you? He didn’t want to imagine a life without you ever again.

Your hand flew to your mouth as your eyes said yes, but before you could verbally respond, the sky behind you was rumbling and turned a deep shade of blue and grey. You both stared up at the tenebrous sky.

“Wooyoung? What’s happening?” you asked, your voice weak. But he didn’t know what to tell you. He was unsure as well.

Wooyoung tried to stand up but he kept tripping since the ground began to shake too. Just what was going on? Was this an Earthquake? It didn't make sense. If this were an Earthquake, surely it would just be the ground. What was up with the sky? It was just so pretty a minute ago but now it was so dark and gloomy out of no where.

A muffled “babe,” rang in his ear so he turned his attention back to you, only to realize that you were gone. It was as if you had just vanished into thin air. He began to look around. Just where did everyone go? Even the picnic he had prepared for you vanished too.

All that was left of the scenery was just the field of grass, the river, and a thunderstorm. He stared up at the gloomy sky. Then all of a sudden, a lighting strike struck the ground a few feet in front of him. Startled, he scrambled backwards, trying to get away.

He blinked one more time as he fell backwards, then suddenly everything turned dark.

Wooyoung jumped, sitting up right away. When he opened his eyes, he was met with the sight of his dresser and TV in front of him. He glanced down at himself, then realized that he was back in his room.

Fuck, was it all a dream?

His hand immediately went to his forehead. Just why was his head pounding so soon in the morning?

“Babe.” A female voice muttered from beside him.

Wooyoung turned towards the owner of the voice. That wasn’t you, he realized. He frowned.

“How did you sleep?” she asked, while grabbing onto his clammy hands. “You were smiling so much in your sleep and even said ‘I love you’ and then all of a sudden you were quiet. Were you dreaming of me? Did you mean it?” Her smile annoyed him so much.

Wooyoung couldn’t help but glare at Ryujin. She was the reason you left him. He met her at the club one night after an argument with you. He tried to push her away but she kept coming onto him and eventually he gave in. Wooyoung kept blaming Ryujin for being the reason you dumped him. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t her fault. She only gave him the bait, he was the one that bit onto it. So as much as he blamed everyone around him for his actions, deep down he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

“You should go,” he said absent-mindedly. Ryujin only reminded him of what he had with you. He didn’t even want to see her anymore. It only made him feel disgusted and dirty. Even more so than he already felt.

“But shouldn’t we talk about us? We’ve been having sex for months now. What are we? Should we just make it official?” She asked as she clung onto his arm.

And Fuck, was she annoying.

“I told you I wasn’t looking for anything serious. So get out. And let this be the last time you’re here too because whatever we had ends today.” His voice was assertive and cold. He wasn’t playing around.

“But babe-”

“Go!” His voice grew louder and Ryujin started to tear up as she rummaged through the mess on the floor for her clothing.

Before Ryujin left, she looked at him one last time. "She'll never take you back. What you and her had is long over. You can take it out on me all you want but you were the one that begged me to distract you that night. Remember that." She waited for him to respond but when he didn’t, she stormed off.

Wooyoung just stared blankly at his dresser when she went off on her tantrum. He was so damn tired of her. He knew what she was trying to do. She wanted him to care and start an argument but he didn't even care about himself, let alone give two fucks about her.

He glanced around his bedroom when she left. It was a mess. There were piles of clothes everywhere, empty water bottles sprawled at every corner, and sheets that haven’t been washed in months. He was living in absolute filth. And yet none of it mattered. Nothing in his life has mattered since the day you left.

Wooyoung rubbed at his eyes once more when he heard his apartment door slam. Finally, she was gone.

That dream he just had about proposing to you gave him a wake up call. Just what was he doing with his life engaging in meaningless hook ups?

He’d been trying to fill the void for four months now, sleeping wth Ryujin and random girls at the club every night. But shit got boring real quick when sex was all they had to offer. He began to crave the emotional connection that one has when in a relationship. The emotional connection that came with having someone genuinely care about him. And to think, he once found it suffocating and annoying to have someone care so much about him.

But now? It was all he wanted.

He tried to move on. He really did. But he just couldn’t stop comparing every girl to you.

No one could ever fill the void you left in his heart. He missed you so much but he knew you deserved better. You were happy with someone else now and he had to live with that. After all, he was the one that cheated and took you for granted. And now you were with someone better. Someone who didn’t take you for granted.

Wooyoung wasn’t going to cry again, he told himself. He had work and the hangover was bad enough. He had to get started on his day and stop thinking of you.

He showered, brushed his teeth, dressed himself, then walked into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, but there was nothing inside but a couple beers. His stomach was growling and the hangover from last night was killing him. His mind momentarily drifted to you since he was so used to you making breakfast for him. Yet another thing he took for granted.

He sighed. He barely ate these days. But for the sake of survival, he had too.

After rummaging through the cabinets, he finally managed to find a snack that wasn’t too bad. It was a custard dessert that had been expired for a month now. And since he had nothing else to eat, he settled for that. It was better than starving.

“I have to get ready for work,” Wooyoung whined with a smile on his face. The both of you had just woken up and you couldn’t stop smothering him with kisses. He loved moments like this with you but he already wasted an hour to sleep in. If you kept kissing and pressing your body against his, he was sure he was going to get hard and be late for work. He had to start getting ready for the day and so he reluctantly pushed you back. “We can finish this when I get home okay baby? I really need to brush my teeth now.”

You smiled back at him. You had bedhead and you were sure there was probably crust in your eyes but still, Wooyoung looked at you as if you were the most beautiful person on Earth. “I’ll make you breakfast while you shower then,” you offered as you stood up. “Do you want pancakes again?”

“You know me so well, baby." He kissed your forehead before hopping in the shower. He loved you so much. You always offered to do everything for him and you knew his preferences so well. How did he get so lucky? “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too.” You smiled at him.

A tear trailed down Wooyoung’s eyes as he grabbed his keys on the kitchen island. He missed your voice so much. He’d do anything to hear your voice telling him that you loved him again. But he had to stop thinking about you. He had to get it together for work.

During his commute, he turned on the radio to distract his thoughts. But he should’ve known better. It was Valentine’s Day and the radio was full of love songs. He switched from station to station but every damn one was just love song after love song.

The joy he felt when he finally got to a station that wasn't playing a love song was indescribable. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he listened to the advertisement for some dish soap. Never has he been more excited to think about washing the dishes. He used to love cooking, and just remembered, making a mental note to go get groceries after work. Right as he was getting into the mood of dish soap, the radio host began to talk about Valentine’s Day and before he knew it, another love song started to play.

He was one second away from changing the song when he heard the intro. Then his hand froze.

It was your favorite song.

The song you and him danced to last Valentine's day in the living room of his apartment.

You scrolled on Spotify to find the song 'Perfect' by Ed Sheeren. It was your favorite love song of all time. You've always dreamed of dancing to this song with the love of your life and now that you found him, you wanted to make the dream a reality.

"Dance with me.” You dragged him by the hands to the empty area of the living room and placed your hands around his neck.

"I don't know, babe. I just ate a lot of pasta. I very much overate." Wooyoung patted his tummy and you playfully rolled your eyes. His hands found home on your waist anyway despite him feeling too full to even move. There was no way he was going to deny you this dance. Not when you looked so happy.

"You shouldn't have eaten so much then."

"Not my fault you make the best pasta."

You smiled. "Just follow my lead, you dramatic baby. You'll be fine."

You both started to slow dance to the music, staring into each other’s eyes. The lights were perfectly dimmed and the mood was as romantic as it could ever be. Despite not wanting to dance at first, Wooyoung eventually found himself getting into the grove. He loved you so much. He felt like his heart could burst at any second as he stared into your pretty eyes.

“Babe?” He mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

After work, Wooyoung was so tired.

He just wanted to sleep and forget about his boring life but then his friends-- Mingi and Seonghwa-- showed up at his door unannounced and now here he was at the bar, drinking again. He told himself he was done with hookups this morning but he still needed something to numb the pain. Numb the thoughts. Anything to get his mind off you.

And alcohol was always reliable.

“I know it sucks seeing couples all around you but what happened to that Ryujin girl? Haven’t you been seeing her for months now?” Mingi asked.

“She’s gone. It didn’t mean anything. So I ended it.” Wooyoung mumbled, downing another shot.

“Alright, that’s enough. We brought you here to have a good time, not blackout again. It’s been four months. She’s moved on and so should you.” Seonghwa insisted, taking the shot glass away from him. It was obvious his friends hated seeing him like that. They missed the upbeat and social Wooyoung. The one that could carry a conversation with anyone and make everyone laugh.

These days, Wooyoung was just angry and sad.

A former shell of himself.

“I’m a terrible person." Wooyoung stated. He wasn't even begging for compliments, he just wanted his friends to know that and hate him just as much as he hated himself. He tried to push everyone away but his friends knew better than to let Wooyoung waste his life away and pity himself.

“Yeah, you are terrible.” Mingi said honestly. “But she’s happy now. Did you see her Instagram pictures? She’s dating a new guy now and he's attractive. You should find someone too. That girl over there,” Mingi pointed out, "She's into you, I can feel it."

"I'm done with hook ups, so no thanks. And she blocked me so no I didn't see shit,” Wooyoung mumbled.

His friends tried to get him to be himself again. To socialize and talk to people again. But their efforts were fruitless. All Wooyoung wanted to do was drink and he did exactly that.

And by the end of the night, it would be Mingi who carried him back into his apartment while Seonghwa tucked him in. He had to hold back the urge to scold Wooyoung for letting his bedroom accumulate into a mess of a landfill.

“Y/N,” Wooyoung mumbled drunkenly, tugging on Seonghwa’s arms with his eyes shut, “Don’t leave me.”

Seonghwa sighed, knowing how you used to tuck Wooyoung in every night when he came back drunk. You did so much for him, even when you had your suspicions.

Seonghwa felt like Wooyoung was stupid for cheating and lying. But he also empathized with him. Wooyoung punished himself enough. And while there was nothing he could do to fix his past mistakes, he could move on and change for the better. Because life went on.

And Seonghwa only hoped Wooyoung would realize this before it was too late.

[ 4 months ago ]

It was your fourth year anniversary with Wooyoung and you were so excited.

Despite the frequent arguments and how distant he has become the past four weeks, you pushed it all aside. Today was a special day and you wouldn’t let anything ruin it.

Wanting to look your best, you even got your hair done the other day. You tried to wait for him after work yesterday but he came home late again because of work. Something always came up these days, but you supposed it was alright. It was inevitable.

You woke up extra early thanks to the alarm on your phone. You had to get a head start to surprise him with a good breakfast before work. You couldn't wait to sit down and eat breakfast with him for once. When was the last time you and him ate together in the mornings? You couldn't even recall.

After two hours, you finished Wooyoung’s favorite chocolate chip pancakes along with eggs and his favorite latte. You then did your makeup and wore his favorite white sundress on you. You couldn’t wait to get his reaction to what you prepared. You even got him flowers for once since you read online that men rarely received flowers in their lifetime.

After setting up everything on the dinner table, you sat on the sofa and held the bouquet of roses in your hands while you waited for him to finish getting ready. You heard his alarm ring a while ago and you couldn’t hold in your excitement, bouncing your leg the whole time.

The moment he walked into the kitchen, you came towards him with flowers and kissed him good morning on the cheek despite how he didn't even look up. He was always texting. Always on his phone. “Did you sleep well? You come home so late these days, I rarely see your face anymore.” You tried to smile, you really did. But he was still on his damn phone. You grimaced when you saw how he didn’t even acknowledge you. “Babe?” you tried again.

“Yeah?” he grumbled, eyes still glued to his messages app. It was probably his friend or another family member, you convinced yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was ask him who it was again.

Especially after he went off on you for being 'nosey' the other week.

“Who are you always texting these days? I thought you didn’t like texting much.”

“Just my cousin,” he sighed, eyes glued to his phone on date night.

“Right.”

Then finally, he looked up at you. But he looked annoyed. “What exactly does ‘right’ mean? You're so nosey these days Y/N, what happened to privacy? Don't you trust me?”

“You know what? No, I don't trust you anymore. Because who the hell texts their cousin long ass paragraphs with heart emojis every hour of the day? You must think I’m stupid don’t you?”

“You’re overreacting. You know how she’s about to graduate. She just wants advice on the job market.”

“Right.”

“There you go again.” He rolled his eyes. “You don’t believe me do you? Just say it. Whatever you’re thinking, just say it!”

“Are you cheating on me?”

“No. I’m not. I can't even believe you're even accusing me of that! We've been together almost four years now and you still don't trust me? What do I have to do for you to believe me, huh?”

“Show me your messages right now.” You were never like this. You never got jealous to this extent. But he was making you insane with how distant and dismissive he was being.

The past month? Wooyoung always came home late. He was cold. He didn't touch you anymore. His kisses were chaste. And most of all, his work clothes reeked of a woman’s perfume. And when you confronted him about it? He just brushed it off. Something about his old lady coworker always giving him a hug before clocking off. But did that old coworker also give him the marks on his neck? Yeah, you weren't stupid.

“You can’t be serious,” he scoffed. “You’re so insecure these days, it’s actually insane. You know what? You either trust me or you don’t. I’m leaving.”

“Where are you going? It’s late!” You threw your fork on the table, and jumped up only to be met by the slam of the door.

You were so angry and annoyed at him for always leaving during an argument. You just wanted to talk things through for once but he would always lie or shift the blame on you and make you feel crazy. You didn’t know how much you could take it anymore.

You were stupidly in love with him. But you weren’t stupid. You knew something was going on. There had to be someone else.

You just didn’t have proof.

You couldn’t stop the tears that day. He didn’t come home that night and once again, you slept on the sofa, waiting for him to return.

Taking a deep breath, you tried not to think about that memory anymore as you plastered on a pretty smile for your fourth year anniversary.

Even if he was different now, you knew the Wooyoung you fell in love with was still there. Somewhere.

So despite your doubts, you were going to attempt to make this relationship work. No relationship was perfect. And you weren’t going to get deterred so easily. You wouldn’t give up just yet.

“What do you think of my hair?” you beamed, turning around to show him the back. “I just got it done yesterday.”

“Looks great,” he sighed, but you could tell he didn't even bother to look up from his phone.

“You didn’t even look,” you sulked.

“I did look and I said it looks great, what else do you want me to say?” he grumbled as he looked you dead in the eyes. “I need to get to work now, Google maps says there’s traffic on the way.”

“Oh,” you sighed. Disappointed, you placed the bouquet of roses (that he didn’t even noticed were for him) onto the counter. “Well take some pancakes with you then, I’ll wrap them up for you.”

“It’s fine. I’m not hungry.”

“But you love these pancakes. I even woke up early to make them for you.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t ask you to do that. I used to like them but you make them practically everyday now, don't you get sick of them? Because I do.” He raised his voice. Something he did so much these days and yet you still felt a tear prick at your eye.

“You could’ve just told me that earlier...” You felt your voice get smaller as your eyes brimmed with tears. You’ve cried a lot the past month because of Wooyoung but the fact that today was your fourth year anniversary and he was acting like this made you frustrated.

“How can I tell you anything when you always start crying like this?” He clenched his jaw, and he seemed annoyed. Was he annoyed?

“You could’ve just said it nicer.” You wiped your tears.

“Fuck, you’re so annoying,” he exclaimed as he ran his fingers through his hair. “ Can you stop being a crybaby for once? You always make me out to be the bad guy.”

“Well you haven't exactly been nice these days. What is up with you Wooyoung? Is work that stressful?” You tried to stay calm, in contrast to how your boyfriend was raising his voice. Was this how it was now that the honeymoon phase ran its course?

“Not everything is about work.” He glanced at the time again. “You know what, it’s way too early to be arguing again, I’m tired of this. I'm tired of you. You always have to get so emotional.” He reached for his keys then walked away.

“So that’s how it’s going to be then? Every time I want to talk, you brush things off? We never communicate anymore, we need to talk things through if we’re going to make this relationship work."

“I need to go, we’ll talk after work.” He said dismissively as he walked towards the front door.

“I love-“ you didn’t even finish before the apartment door slammed in your face. He never said I loved you anymore, nor did he give you a kiss before going to work. But you supposed you shouldn’t be surprised.

Immediately after he left, you checked Google maps, inputting his usual route to work to check for traffic. Please let it be the truth. Please. Please.

But there was no traffic.

It was just another lie.

You couldn’t stop the tears the moment he left, it was as if all the bottled up emotions from the past month just came out. A part of you wondered what you did wrong. What made him so tired of you. He used to look at you with stars in his eyes but now it was more like annoyance. Resentment even.

Today was supposed to be special and yet he didn’t even seem to remember your fourth year anniversary. Or maybe he knew all along but he just didn’t care.

After work, he didn’t come home.

It was 10 P.M now and you were worried sick. He would usually at least tell you that he’d come home late but there was nothing today at all. No call. No short text.

You spent hours preparing his favorite pasta and steak for your anniversary dinner but it all went cold now on the dinner table. You even bought his favorite champagne, and lit some candles but it seemed like your efforts were fruitless. He wasn’t coming home tonight.

Was it work again? He always had something at work holding him up but you never thought he’d take on the extra load and be purposely late on such a special day.

Eventually, you fell asleep on the sofa waiting for him.

It would be around 2 A.M. when you jolted awake from the loud knock at your door. Groaning, you got up from the sofa and opened the door.

You rubbed your eyes. It was Seonghwa. And then there was Wooyoung, drunk as hell to the point he couldn't even stand by himself. Nothing new, but on your anniversary? Really?

Seonghwa made his way through the door and passed Wooyoung off to you on the sofa while you stood at the door, frozen. His friend tried to explain to you that he was just out drinking with the guys and got carried away but you knew better. You saw the lipstick on Wooyoung's collar.

When his friend left that night, all you could do was stare at Wooyoung who was fast asleep on the sofa.

Your thoughts and self doubt began to run wild. Where did things go wrong? When did he stop loving you?

You ran out of tears at this point. All you had was regret that you ever gave him a chance. Maybe if you never met him, you’d be happy right now. Instead, you were a fool and now you were tangled up in a web of loving him.

Despite this, you hated how you still cared for him. You tried to carry his weight to the bedroom and change him into more comfortable clothes. It took a while but you finally managed to get off his shirt. He stirred awake in the process and started to mumble a string of words you couldn't make out. You stood between his legs and he couldn’t stop smiling and moving his head.

“Ryujin? Is it you, babe?” he muttered, “Fuck you’re beautiful.” He tried to pull you into his lap but you didn’t budge, too taken aback by the whole situation.

You took a step back. “What did you just call me?”

“Ryujin?” He tried to open his eyes, but they barely opened. Why would he be calling his cousin beautiful? That was when you knew he was lying to you about texting his cousin.

“It’s Y/N.” You tried to tell him, shaking him awake by the shoulders.

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. Annoyed even.

“Are you cheating on me?” You knew he’d lie if he was sober but he was drunk right now and a drunk person couldn’t filter their thoughts. This was your only chance to get the confirmation you needed and you took it. You knew the moment he woke up tomorrow, he’d just push you away again and make you feel crazy for doubting him.

“There you go again!” he mumbled loudly, throwing his hands in the air. “So what if I did? I’m so fucking tired of you. Always so clingy and insecure, it’s so damn suffocating. But Ryujin? She's sooooo good, makes me feel so good.” He smiled as he continued to ramble on and off about her. His words were slurred and he was incoherent but you were still able to make out his words. And that was all it took for you to stumble back.

He called you clingy. And that was rich coming from Wooyoung. Because if anything, he was always the clingy one in the relationship, the one to be overly jealous, and sulk whenever you were being too nice and smiling towards anyone who was a male. He was overly affectionate and touchy too so the thought that he found it annoying when you did those things back? It ticked you off.

Then he called you insecure. Yet he was the one that never made you feel loved anymore. He treated you like shit and made you this way.

So really, you should’ve realized something was wrong last month, the moment he turned away your morning kisses. But you just kept giving him the benefit of the doubt and look where that got you.

You felt disgusted and betrayed as you looked back at him. You should’ve known better. You smelled perfume on him for a month now yet you always convinced yourself that you were just overreacting. That the Wooyoung you loved wouldn’t do this to you. But you were wrong and all men were the same.

You didn’t even say anything as you watched him spill his thoughts. It wasn’t until he mumbled, “just go away, I’m sleepy,” that you realized you hated him. You couldn’t even stand to look at his face anymore.

So if he wanted you to go, you'd go.

You didn’t want to talk to him ever again. So with anger bubbling in your chest, you decided to leave a break up letter on the kitchen island near his car keys.

There were no tears anymore but your whole body felt so fragile and weak, like it could shatter at any moment. Your hands were trembling as you pulled your suitcase from the closet and packed your things. You managed to get half of your belongings in there before zipping it shut. You’d just come back for your belongings the next Monday when he was at work. Thankfully you didn’t own much and since this was Wooyoung’s apartment, you didn’t need to worry about anything.

The next day, Wooyoung woke up with a pounding headache. Confused, and nauseous.

Just what the hell happened last night? And why was his shirt off? He glanced around his room and everything looked normal. He then sniffed his arm, smelling the lingering scent of alcohol and weed from last night at the club and decided he needed a shower.

After he got cleaned and dressed, he got ready for the day. When he walked into the kitchen, he didn’t see you and felt a sense of relief wash over him. He could have some peace and quiet today without you nagging or being annoying.

As he passed by the dinner table, he couldn’t help but notice the two plates of steak and pasta. Did you make that? There was also his favorite champagne from Trader Joe’s, rose petals, and a candle for some reason.

Then it hit him.

Was yesterday the fourth year anniversary already?

He groaned, feeling somewhat bad for leaving so abruptly yesterday, but he figured he’d just apologize when you got home from the market. Since you always went out shopping for groceries early on a Saturday.

He then passed by the kitchen island and saw a folded note next to a bouquet of flowers that also had a note wedged into the middle.

Curious, he read the letter in the bouquet first.

Note: I read somewhere that only 12 percent of men receive flowers in their lifetime. I feel like a shitty girlfriend for never realizing this over the past years but I plan to get you flowers more often now to show my love. I know we haven’t been like us lately, but I hope today will change that. Happy 4th anniversary babe, I love you. -Yours forever, Y/N

Wooyoung sighed. Okay, he was starting to feel real bad and guilty now. He remembered you holding the roses in your hand yesterday morning but he didn’t know they were for him. You were always so thoughtful.

He rubbed at his temple then opened the other letter.

Note: You’re probably too drunk to remember last night but you finally told me about Ryujin. Is she the girl you’ve been texting with all day? The girl you lied to my face about? You didn’t need to lie to me but I guess it was just exciting for you to cheat wasn’t it? You always did love the chase. I must’ve gotten too boring and clingy for you as it was heading towards our 4th year. We could’ve both been happier if you just said something and broke up with me but since you’re such a coward, I’ll do it for you. We’re done. That way you can be with that girl all you want. I’ll stop by later this week to pick up the rest of my stuff.

Wooyoung needed to sit down. His head was killing him. He pulled out a chair at the dining table, and rested his elbows on the marble. His eyes glazed over the remnants of what was supposed to be a romantic anniversary dinner last night and he felt something twist in his stomach.

He wanted this didn’t he? He was so sick of you. But then why did he feel so empty now that you broke up with him?

He knew he was a shitty person. He had forgotten about your anniversary… but he also knew that was trivial compared to the bigger problem. The fact that he had cheated, lied to you about it, and you found out.

You had planned a whole dinner and tried to call him. But instead of picking up your calls, he ignored it and ditched you for the club. He was certain he was tired of your constant arguing. For a month now, he was so tired of seeing your face everyday. Wooyoung couldn’t pinpoint the reason because you were truly just being a good partner, but you were starting to suffocate him. It wasn’t even like you were even clingy, if anything he was the more clingy and touchy one in the relationship. But then why did he say it?

His head was spinning as he tried to figure out what exactly the hell he told you last night. He was so certain he was tired of you but then why did he feel so guilty?

Wooyoung tried to call you when it was after noon and you still weren’t home yet but it didn’t go through.

Did you block him already?

As the day went on, he started to remember bits and pieces of what he said to you last night. He also recalled how annoyed he was with you for accusing him of cheating even though he was.

He then decided to call Seonghwa to catch him up with last night’s events but all he could tell him was that he wouldn’t stop drinking and flirting with the bartender despite him trying to get him to go home to you.

He swore he would stop sooner but Ryujin was just so addicting. She brought a spark to his boring life and made him feel excited again. You and him were together for so long that there wasn’t much to talk about anymore, not much to experiment with, but with Ryujin? She didn’t know anything about him and it was fun talking to her. And maybe it was the thrill, but it was even more fun to mess around behind your back. She was a good fuck and made him forget about his mundane life that he had to wake up to every day.

So was it love? No. But she made him feel alive in the moment and that was all Wooyoung cared about.

He didn’t know why but he just felt so trapped living the same day every day. Even with you there beside him, he felt lonely. Every morning he’d wake up, go to work, then he’d get home and see your face. He was tired of his mundane life which was why he went out with the boys so frequently again. At first it was just for drinks and to let loose but then Ryujin who was a regular there kept flirting with him. At first he pushed her away but then he eventually gave in. He regretted it but what could he do? The damage was already done and he didn’t know how to end it either so he just kept on seeing her behind your back.

But you? He loved you. You were there for him when through thick and thin and always took care of him when he was sick. So yes, he cheated, but he still loved you. Even if he hadn’t been showing it lately.

The next day was Sunday. His day off. But he couldn’t get himself to rest like he usually would.

He tried to call your friends but none of them would answer. Did you tell them about the breakup already? Did they hate him? He even tried to call your parents and siblings but no one would pick up. He then took a drive to your parent’s house and held hope when he saw your car in the driveway. He knocked and knocked but no one would open the door. He knew you were inside but you didn’t open it.

He wanted to talk so bad. To make things right again. But it wouldn’t be until Friday that he had the chance.

Wooyoung was supposed to be at work but he ended up using up five of his vacation days to catch you and get the chance to talk. He knew how you had to come over to pick up your stuff eventually. And knowing you, you would choose a time when he was at work to do so.

It was around 10 A.M when he heard his front door unlock. Wooyoung took a deep breath before walking out, hoping you’d at least give him a chance to explain.

“Hey,” he began as he watched you open your suitcase to pack your fake plants that were on his bookshelf. But instead of saying hi back, you just ignored him, not even bothering to spare him a glance. That was fair, he supposed. “Can we talk?”

“A little late for that, don't you think?” You tried to hurry up and pack your decorations in a way that wouldn’t crush them.

“Please just listen,” he pleaded. “I know what I did was wrong, but it was a mistake, I really was going to end it, Ryujin never meant anything to me.”

“It wasn’t a mistake, Wooyoung. You cheated on me and when I confronted you about it, you switched it on me and called me crazy and insecure. You lied straight to my face then got the nerve to get angry about it.” You couldn’t help but laugh. “I should’ve known the moment you came home with perfume on your suit. I knew it, you know? I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

“You’re not stupid. And for the last time, it was a mistake. I was just so damn tired with work and everyday became so boring, and she was there-“

“How long?” For the first time today, you looked at him dead in the eyes. There was no love in them anymore, just cold set eyes.

“Does it matter?” he sighed.

"How long?" You repeated calmly.

“A month. I’m sorry, okay?”

“You’re not sorry,” you laughed. “You're just sorry you got caught. What? Is she prettier than me? Skinnier? You always did have a thing for models. I wasn’t enough for you was I? Was it the sex? You know what? I don't wanna know.” You then got up and went towards the bathroom to get the rest of your skincare and makeup.

He groaned as he trailed behind you. “Can't we just work through this? You wanted to talk on Friday, let's talk now. How about we talk about it over dinner tonight to celebrate our fourth year anniversary?”

You stood up from your kneeled position to look him dead in the eyes again. “Do you honestly believe we can just talk and go back like nothing happened? You cheated on me, fucked her every night I was waiting for you in our bed, then lied about it for weeks.” Your voice didn’t falter, it didn’t crack. You no longer felt the need to say exactly what was on your mind.

“Come on, it was a mistake,” he pleaded. “It’s not like you’re perfect either, you always flirt with that barista.”

You had to laugh, it was comical how he was turning this on you again. “I was being polite to the barista, a smile and asking how his morning went is not flirting so don’t you dare turn this on me. I wasn’t the one that cheated. A mistake is one time Wooyoung, and even then it doesn’t justify cheating. You cheated on me nearly every day so you know what was a mistake? Us. I should've never given you the chance. All my friends warned me about you back when we were in college but I didn’t listen. My parents tried to set me up with this nice guy who could’ve easily made me happy but I chose you. Everyone told me you were bad news but I didn’t listen and I chose you and looked where that got me. I wasted four, five years of my life for this.” You threw your hands in the air, so angry at the life you chose for yourself. “You know what? It doesn’t matter, I’m over this.” You zipped up your suitcase then made your way out of the bathroom.

“So what? You’re just going to flush this 4 year relationship down the drain?” He followed after you.

“Don’t blame this on me. You were the one that did that the moment you cheated. I’m leaving Wooyoung and I hate you. Oh, and here’s your key,” you threw it at his chest, “I don’t ever want to see you again.” You made sure he heard it clear before you slammed his door.

Wooyoung wanted to run after you but he couldn’t. His legs felt like jelly and all he could do was think about how he just lost the best thing that has ever happened to him. And it was all his fault.

After your breakup with Wooyoung, you did everything to distract yourself and threw yourself at your work. While things were good while it lasted, you just wanted to close this chapter of your life. You found yourself sad sometimes but you genuinely had no more tears left to cry. You just didn’t want to live in the past anymore. You refused to let him take over your future too.

After a month of staying with your parents, you managed to find a roommate you got along with well and she was amazing. She quickly became a friend you could count on and even introduced you to her male friend who just got out of a relationship too. His name was Yunho and he was so tall and handsome. You both bonded over your exes, work, post-grad life, childhoods, anything and everything. Turns out you were two even in a Modern Physics class together one semester and even had mutual college friends. You both had so much in common that it was like a match made in Heaven. He made you so happy.

But since you were both still ‘fresh’ out of a long term relationship, you both took it slow.

The post break up life for Wooyoung wasn’t as liberating as he thought it would be. He was a mess.

At first, he thought he would be fine. He rejoiced in the freedom actually. He was finally able to breath again in his own apartment. But as the weeks passed? The quietness only fed his loneliness. And he wasn't so sure this was what he wanted his life to be anymore.

He thought this was what he wanted. He really did. Freedom was amazing. He missed that feeling of not being tied down. No one to nag at him. No one to smother him with the same kisses and same old food.

But he was wrong.

He ached for an emotional connection again but no one gave it to him. He was sick of meaningless sex. He tried to replace you but it didn’t work. He was tired of feeling lonely. He just wanted you back.

All he did was drink these days. He came to work with hangovers 24/7 and was practically a zombie, doing the bare minimum to get through the day. He could barely function too, a former shell of himself.

He just felt so empty and broken Inside.

But this was all the consequences of his own actions. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

[ Present Day, One week after Valentine's Day ]

“I don’t want to go to another party,” Wooyoung whined at Seonghwa. They were in front of a house that belonged to an old friend from college. This was a baby shower of sorts and the loud music was already giving him a headache. Usually he loved parties but he just didn’t feel like it these days.

“Dude, you need to get out again. What happened to the Wooyoung that was always down for a good time?” Mingi asked, leading him inside the house.

“Yeah man, come on! HongJoong’s our friend. He’s having a baby with his wife, we should be here and happy for him.” Seonghwa tried to shake some sense into him. He couldn’t just wallow in his regrets forever.

Wooyoung supposed his friends were right.

He went to congratulate Hongjoong briefly before going to the kitchen for a beer. He gulped half of it in one go then leaned against the counter, not in the mood to be social. So he just observed.

It would be a while before someone noticed his sour mood.

“You look like you just got dumped,” HongJong joked as he neared him again. He was oblivious to the fact that Wooyoung actually did just get dumped which caused the boy to tense up. When Wooyoung didn’t say anything in response or laugh like he usually would, Hongjoong nudged his arm. “What’s up with you man? I was just joking. You've changed so much since the last time I saw you. Has life been that hard?”

“You think I’ve changed?” There was a sadness in Wooyoung’s eyes. Even Hongjoong noticed this.

“Yeah. You’ve lost some weight. And you aren’t as talkative anymore. How’s life been? It’s been forever since we’ve caught up.”

Wooyoung sighed. “It’s been alright. Still stuck at the same job I had post-grad.” Wooyoung didn’t know what else to say. The last thing he wanted to do was bring up the fact that he was a jerk who cheated on his girlfriend of four years. So instead, he decided to divert the topic back to the man of the party. “Congrats on your baby girl by the way. You’d make a good father.”

Hongjoong’s smile was melancholic as he fixated lovingly at his pregnant wife who was talking to some guests. “Mina was so scared, you know? We didn’t plan to have a family so soon but it just happened. I was scared too but I had to stay strong for her. We’re still so young and I can barely take care of myself. But then I started thinking. Everything happens for a reason don’t you think? If it was meant to be then it’ll happen. And then I started to picture a mini Mina running around the house and I got so excited, thinking about how I’m going to raise and take care of her. There’s just something so special about having a baby with the person you love.”

Wooyoung grimaced. Of course he was happy for his friend, but at the same time, the way Hongjoong was talking made him feel inferior. It seemed like all of his friends had matured and made a future for themselves while he went backwards in life. Wooyoung stared into the distance as the memory of you unfolded. If only he could go back in time and knock some sense into himself. Then maybe, just maybe, he could have his happy ending too.

You were lying on his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his bare abs. “Do you think about having a family one day?”

Wooyoung sat up properly and you got off his chest. “What? Do you have baby fever again?” He couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you looked dazed post-sex, in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and your underwear. He couldn’t help but smile seeing how excited you were about having kids.

“Can you blame me? You’re so cute around my little cousins. They love you and it just made me think how fun it would be to have little Wooyoung’s running around the house.” You and him were currently in your childhood bedroom after having a barbecue party with your whole family. They all just left for the night and you and Wooyoung finally had time to yourselves.

“That sounds like a nightmare,” he joked. “They’ll make a mess of the house and be very loud. You’ll never get sleep again.”

“That’s part of the sacrifice don’t you think? The beauty of being a mother? Even if that’s the case, I wouldn’t mind. I just want to have my own kids to give a life to one day. I’d do anything for them.”

“How many kids would you like then?” He hummed.

“I want to have 5 kids, at least 2 girls and 2 boys,” you beamed, clapping your hands together, as you went on about how you’d spoiled them.

Wooyoung also loved kids but right now he was still so young and he didn’t want to think of having a family. But just knowing that you saw a future with him? That warmed his heart. “Are you sure you’ll be able to give birth that many times, babe? I heard shit is painful.”

You playfully rolled your eyes which made him smile. “Don’t underestimate me, I’m stronger than I look.”

“I know you are, but I was just being realistic.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before patting his lap. You took the hint and wrapped your legs around him before your arms went around his neck. “You know I love you right?”

“I do. And I love you too.” The look in your eyes. It was pure happiness and bliss. Pure love. And all for him.

“You alright, man?” Hongjoong asked, nudging Wooyoung once more.

Wooyoung blinked, shaking his head. “Sorry man, what’d you say?”

Hongjoong smiled softly before patting his back. “I said I’m going to go meet some guests, take care, alright?” He then walked towards the door to tend to the couple that just walked in. It was only when Hongjoong moved his head that he saw you. But you didn’t come alone.

You were next to a guy.

A very tall and good looking guy. Mingi wasn’t lying last week at the bar when he said your new boyfriend was attractive (as much as he hated to admit it).

Hongjoong gave the guy beside you a hug while Mina, his wife, took the foil tray of food from your hands.

It didn't feel real that he was seeing your face after four months of trying to contact you.

Was he dreaming again?

Wooyoung couldn't stop staring at you. You were wearing a floral dress and looked absolutely gorgeous. You looked different from the last time he saw you but in a good way. More mature and pretty. Your hair was longer and you even got a new piercing. He couldn’t help but notice how you were practically glowing too.

Was he selfish for wanting you back?

He should be happy for you but he wasn’t. Not when the guy beside you was pissing him off. The guy’s hand was at the small of your back and you two looked so good together. Wooyoung couldn’t help but size him up, feeling insecure as he observed the guy. He looked like such a ‘nice guy’, the type your parents always wanted for you. And you looked so happy.

Your new guy then placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him before saying something that made you smile wide.

When was the last time Wooyoung saw you smile wide at him like that? 4 months ago? 5 months ago?

And before Wooyoung knew it, that guy’s lips touched yours and you willingly pulled him closer.

Wooyoung clenched his fists and pressed his lips together. He knew he had no right but he just felt so jealous, anger boiling in his blood.

It had only been four months since you and him broke up. How the hell did you move on so fast?

“I didn’t know she was going to be here.” Mingi said as he approached Wooyoung. “Are you alright?”

Wooyoung swallowed thickly, his eyes still locked on the way you smiled at the guy. “Yeah. Just great.”

When you backed away from the kiss, your eyes began to scan the party and that was when you made eye contact with Wooyoung. The minute it happened, your smile faded. There was no pain in your eyes but rather an empty look, one that made Wooyoung’s heart sting. You locked eyes with him for a few seconds before you turned back to your boyfriend with stars in your eyes.

Wooyoung didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He just watched as your boyfriend led you outside to the back where the pool and barbecue was.

“She’s happy now. Don’t ruin things for her,” Mingi said, looking longingly at his friend. Mingi knew how Wooyoung was. Mingi could tell just by looking in his eyes that Wooyoung wanted to go up to you but now wasn’t a good time. “Do you want to leave?”

“No.” Wooyoung replied. He finished his current beer then popped another one open.

Then he waited.

He waited until your boyfriend wasn’t next to you before approaching. This might be the last time he’ll ever see you again. He had nothing to lose but his pride. He didn't care though. He just needed to hear your voice again.

You were near the top of the stairs when he walked up to you. “Hey,” he began softly.

“Hi.” He could tell you were uncomfortable with how you didn't even want to look at him. He didn’t blame you.

“So what are you doing here? I didn’t know you knew HongJong or Mina.” Small talk. He had to start with small talk in order to not drive you away.

“I don’t know them. Yunho’s friends with Hongjong though.” Okay, so you were still talking to him. You didn’t walk away which made him feel lighter.

“So that’s his name? The guy that’s making you happy?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you love him?” He asked but you didn’t answer and a stretch of silence followed. He found himself being desperate and vulnerable which he hasn’t been in a long time. “I’ve missed you,” he selfishly mumbled. Maybe he was just delusional but he wanted to hear that you missed him too. After all, you and him were together for 4 years. It had to mean something. “How have you been?”

“I should go.” You tried to walk away but he grabbed your wrist and you yanked your hand back. “Don’t touch me.” Your voice was cold. And so were your eyes. He hated how you looked at him. You used to look at him with so much love and now you looked at him as if he was the gum on your shoe.

“I’m sorry. I just. I missed you. I still love you.” He was desperate for you to just say anything.

“If you truly loved me, you wouldn’t have cheated. I have nothing to say to you, so just leave me alone. I’m here with my boyfriend for a good time with his friends, so I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I meant it that day when I said I never wanted to see you again, so let’s just pretend not to know each other for today, okay? If you truly still love me, you’ll respect my decision.” You were so much more assertive now, no longer holding back like you used to back when you and him argued. He couldn’t help but wonder. Did you hold back because of him?

He stared at your back as you walked away.

“I broke it off with her,” he said loudly. And you stopped in your tracks. For a second, he swore you were about to say something but then you just kept walking. Your body fading smaller and smaller before disappearing down the flight of stairs.

This was Wooyoung's wake up call. He had to move on. Perhaps in another life, he would’ve treated you right.

Although he was still in pain. He knew that it was nowhere near the pain he had inflicted on you. He knew better than to chase after you. It would only make you hate him more. All you ever did was love him and yet he still managed to fuck it up and hurt you. He hoped at least that Yunho guy treated you right. That he gave you all his hours. That he loved you right. That he did all the things he should’ve done when he was your man.

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