#the idea is like. saying your nostril fell out

[bookwyrminspiration]

wait so elves belly buttons pop off when they get pregnant right. and maybe im incorrect but i interpreted that to mean they just fall off. like theyre gone. but elves can get pregnant multiple times obviously. so does that mean they can just grow a new belly button??

You're a little off, but you've got the spirit! The belly button doesn't fall off--that's not something that's really physically possible? It's an indent in the skin, it doesn't have its own flesh, it's the shape of the negative space between other flesh where something used to be--including for outies. What sticks out isn't the belly button itself, its the surrounding skin. There's nothing to fall off because its an indent, and if the protruding skin of an outie fell off that would kinda just turn it into an innie and then we're still in the same boat

Elves' belly buttons don't pop off in pregnancy, they pop out--become outies if they weren't already, which happens in some human pregnancies as well if you want to look up visuals. And elves' turn pink too, for some reason. So no, elves are not out here growing new belly buttons, they're just turning inside out and back again with each pregnancy (unless said elf has an outie naturally)

hope that helps :)

[sungbeam]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞

dragon shifter!park seonghwa x f!reader

just because you're both dragon shifters doesn't mean this courtship thing is easy.

▷ 6.1k words, pg-13, f2l, dragon shifters au, urban fantasy, swearing, mentions of a big roach/insect, shoulder kiss, seonghwa goes shirtless once (1), mentions of courtship/mating traditions, the boys are implicit in shenanigans ofc, love in the form of jewelry, very mild jealousy, pining

a/n: this au idea was like ,,, 3 months in the making but i reopened the draft yesterday cuz i was tired of rotting 😭 anyways... i think shy, romantic seonghwa is cute ! (also very much hoping this isn't too boring jsfnkdnf)

Park Seonghwa was pretty sure he fell in love with you the day you met. 

It wasn't something he openly admitted to, especially since his attraction had come first when he saw you across the dormitory common room, and was struck dumb by the curve of your smile and the way the sunlight hit your irises to make them glint like jewels. While it was stereotypical to think that dragons only cared about appearances, it didn't come from nothing. It was part of the reason why Seonghwa didn't like saying it was love at first sight; it technically wasn't, by all definitions. He just thought you were beautiful. 

It wasn't until he finally worked up the courage (thanks to his best friend Hongjoong's encouragement (shoving)) to introduce himself to you that he realized what you were—a dragon shifter, just like him. It was no wonder he felt a pull toward you; dragon shifters were a dime a dozen, especially in the city where you both attended university. He told himself his fast friendship and bonding with you came from his excitement of being the same species, as well as learning each other's cultures and traditions, as you came from different clans. 

Though, that didn't account for the amount of times he daydreamed about adorning you in his family's jewels, as it was customary in courtship traditions to wear one's mate's gems. Neither did it account for the way his heart beat faster whenever you were around, the purring from his chest after that one time you fell asleep on his shoulder… It was complicated. 

“Everyone, let's load up the cars! Quick—off your asses. Let's move, people!” Hongjoong hollered like a drill sergeant, his hands cupped around his mouth before clapping too loud for six in the morning on a Saturday. 

Who in their right mind would be crazy enough to wake up so early on the Saturday of their last spring break? Only one demon in particular, and his name was Kim Hongjoong. 

Seonghwa was still half asleep, his eyelids droopy and his limbs even droopier. He nearly flopped face-first onto the pavement outside the apartment complex. He slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and slumped over to the passenger side of the SUV. It had taken all of his willpower to not trudge out in his Lego Movie pajama set.

“—and for goddess's sake, where is Yn?”

He jolted upright. “Yn?” He blubbered, head going on a swivel. 

Hongjoong peered at him weirdly with his hands on his hips, and Wooyoung snorted, then scurried past to avoid Seonghwa's scowl. “Yes, Yn,” Hongjoong said. “Are you awake, Hwa? We literally talked about Yn coming on the trip with us last night.”

Oh. Right. 

Seonghwa blinked his bleary eyes open and nodded sheepishly. Thank goodness he wasn't in his Lego Movie pajamas. “Y-yep, of course I remember!” 

He glanced away, nostrils flaring as he caught onto a familiar scent coming down the street. He could pick out the smell of apple blossoms, tangerines, and your particular musk from a mile away if he was more awake.

“Sorry, I'm late!” Then there came the voice. Your voice simultaneously jump-started his heart and made his heart swoon. If he was about to faint, it probably wasn't going to be from sleep deprivation. 

He couldn't believe he nearly forgot you were coming to the lake with them. 

Your form came into view, your hair a windswept mess and a sheepish sort of smile on your face as you wrestled with the duffle on one shoulder, your backpack on the other, and a paper grocery bag. 

Seonghwa practically fell over himself in order to drop his own bag on the sidewalk and rush over to you. “Here, I got it,” he murmured, taking the grocery bag and duffle bag away from you so he could hold them. 

Your smile widened at him, and he swore the soft morning light was purposefully making your eyes glow right now. “Thanks, Hwa. Very sweet of you.”

“Of course,” he said with a humble nod, pointedly ignoring all of the looks he was getting from his friends. 

“You're just on time,” Hongjoong greeted you with a small smile. “How were exams for you?”

You brushed a hand through your hair, a tired laugh falling from your lips. “They were… alright,” you opted to say. “Glad they're over now, and I'm so ready for this trip.” You gestured to the grocery bag Seonghwa held. “Oh! I brought snacks, by the way.”

Mingi stuck his entire upper body out of the passenger seat of Yunho's sedan. “Yn-ah! You're riding in our car, right?” 

Seonghwa's expression molded into something sour. “Where did you get that idea from?”

“Mingi, you should just give up now,” San chuckled. He sent a wink over to Seonghwa, then glanced back at the naiad who's head Seonghwa was currently trying to glare a hole through. “We’ve already claimed Yn for our car.”

You looked on in confused amusement. “I'll split the snacks between the cars, guys. And plus, the SUV will have more room than the sedan.”

“Exactly,” Seonghwa piped up. He marched over to the back doors of the SUV to safely deposit your things within. There was no need for you to be squished between Yeosang and Jongho in Yunho's comically tiny car, when you could be in the same car as him—no, wait. That wasn't what he meant—

“Well, this is just favoritism,” Yunho jested as he slammed his trunk shut. He shot you a sunny grin that made Seonghwa glance over at you for your reaction. Yunho's being half-siren always made his voice and gestures a little more silken and sweet than the rest of them. “Are you sure it's 'cause of the extra room and not because Wooyoung's cat is gonna be in that car?”

You chuckled, shrugging. As if on cue, a lithe feline in silky black fur trotted out from the bushes. She strutted over to you, purring as she wrapped her tail around your calf. “Okay, maybe you caught me,” you said, crouching down to pet Wooyoung's cat familiar. 

Seonghwa was not going to be jealous over a cat. He was absolutely not. Some sleep would screw his head on straight—yes, sleep did sound nice. He didn't know what was up with himself this morning. 

“Pretty sure she loves you more than she loves me,” Wooyoung pouted as he stuck his head out of the SUV's back window. 

You picked the feline up with your hands, and she gave a crooning meow as you held her up to her witch through the window. “I wouldn't mind adopting her if she wasn't permanently bound to you.”

Seonghwa's eye twitched at the same time he and Hongjoong made eye contact. 

The demon's mouth curled into a knowing, teasing smile—I see you. Seonghwa could feel the heat lift to the surface of his skin as he ducked into the car. He really needed a nap.  

The remainder of the time was used swiftly as everyone finished packing things into your respective cars, including your bodies. About an hour later, you were well on your way out of the city. 

As this was all nine of yours last year of university, this spring break needed to be a memorable one. Yeosang had heard talk through the grapevine of a collection of interlinking caves overlooking a small lake. It was located a few hours out of the city proper, but it would pose as a peaceful getaway for the week. Each of the small caverns were open facing, peering over the water's surface, and each was designed to be like rooms in a house. There would be enough for the boys to sleep two to a bed, with you getting your own. 

The drive out of the city was an easy one. Seonghwa slept nearly the entire time, only waking up to a near-quiet car, save for Hongjoong's choice of music playing softly from the radio. 

“'Morning,” Hongjoong murmured, taking his eyes off the road for a brief moment. 

Seonghwa yawned and turned his eyes up and outward at the world around him. Concrete jungle had become emerald green trees speared with beams of buttery sunshine. He bet it smelled glorious. “Morning,” he said back quietly. “Are they still…” 

His voice trailed off as he twisted around in his seat and took in the middle row behind him. You, San, and Wooyoung were squished arm to arm, thigh to thigh; Wooyoung's black cat familiar laid fast asleep in Wooyoung's lap, with Wooyoung's head against San, San's head against you, and your head against the car window. Seonghwa cooed to himself at the sight, carefully snapping a picture with his phone, before returning to face the front. 

The remainder of the drive was swift, and as you approached the site of your home for the next several days, you all slowly began to wake up. Seonghwa rolled his window down and braced his arm over the open sill, a smile breaking onto his lips as he greedily inhaled the clean, crisp air. 

His eyes flickered to the side mirror, locking gazes with you. For a moment, he held your eye contact. He watched your mouth curve into that pretty smile of yours that made his insides flutter, before you looked out at the forest again. 

When Hongjoong's and Yunho's cars broke out of the trees and into the next clearing, everyone's breaths stole away. 

“No way we scored this good,” San whispered in giddy excitement as he shoved his body between Hongjoong and Seonghwa to peer out the front windshield. 

Before you stood a wide lake, its waters so clear that one could see straight to the bottom. The caverns that you would all bunker up in were on the far shore, stacked atop one another in two layers with four openings on the bottom and three on the top. A waterfall curtained off two of the cavern rooms as it flowed from the rocky outcropping that loomed over the lake, and into the lake itself; the sound was not thunderous, but a dull sort of roar that was almost muffled. 

With the sun rising higher into the sky, its beams reflected off the cascading spray of water to create a small rainbow in the mist. Suffice to say, the view in front of you deserved its own magazine. 

“Let's get our spring break on!” Wooyoung hooted as Hongjoong pulled the car around the shore of the lake to reach the base of the caverns. 

As the day sank from late morning to early afternoon, you and your friends transferred all of your belongings from the cars and into the caverns. Rooms were decided by an efficient round of Rock Paper Scissors—you luckily scored first, and chose the most private room behind the waterfall for yourself. 

Once everyone was settled, it became a race of who could get into the water—

“WAAAAHOOOO!” SPLASH!

—first. 

Seonghwa peered out from the living room cavern on the second floor to see the bodies below take a running start into the lake. He chuckled to himself, leaning his hip against the wall with a can of soda in his hand as he watched his friends break the surface of the lake, one by one. 

“You're not swimming?”

Seonghwa nearly fell forward and out of the open cave, down into the water. His hand slapped against the wall to catch himself, his heart practically tumbling out of his chest anyway. 

To your credit, you looked apologetic, grimacing through a smile as you came to stand next to him. “Sorry. You didn't hear me come in?” 

You had changed out of your T-shirt and shorts from earlier into a cropped tank top and loose skirt, a silver waist chain winking up at him from where it linked around your belly. 

The thought shoved itself into his brain—that you would look terribly divine in his jewelry.

He swallowed, dragging his eyes up back to yours. “I didn't,” he admitted sheepishly. “Guess I was too focused on watching everyone else. Have you settled in alright?”

You had chosen the cavern bedroom right next to the living room, but it was the only bedroom on this level. 

With a nod, you turned your gaze outward at the ocean of emerald green trees surrounding this little oasis. “I have,” you said pleasantly. “You?”

“Same here.” He carded a hand through his hair. “It's really quite beautiful here.” But not as beautiful as you. 

You glanced over at him again, and he wondered if he could concoct enough things to say to keep your attention on him. “Oh, I definitely agree; it's a perfect paradise, really. The waterfall” — you inclined your chin to your left — “I think it'll be most beautiful at sunset.”

He lifted one of his brows and pushed off the cavern wall. “Oh? Why do you think so?”

“If the sunset faces us,” you explained, gesturing your hand out to the eastern horizon in the distance, “then it'll reflect its light against the waterfall. As the sun sinks down and lights the sky on fire, so too will it set the water aflame.”

Seonghwa could envision your words in his mind's eye as he took in the waterfall careening into the lake below. Its crystal blue waters were so clear that it undoubtedly would reflect the shades of the sunset, and become illuminated as you said—where water turned to flame. 

A soft smile came to his face. What a gorgeous image. 

“I bet it'd look incredible from the skies.” Your words drew him back to your face. You were already looking over at him, and his heart gave a loving lurch. 

Seonghwa cleared his throat. “I agree. Have you been able to stretch your wings recently?”

You hummed, tilting your head from side to side. “Not super recently because I was locked inside to study for the last week or two. You?”

“Same,” he chuckled and reached behind his back to scratch at the nape of his neck. Usually, he tried to shift into dragon form at least twice a week to keep his wings strong, but when life got busy, it was difficult to find enough time to take to the skies. “Would—would you like to take a flight with me sometime?” He stammered, fumbling over his words. “Just, y'know, like a casual thing.”

Excellent, Hwa. The spitting image of confidence. 

He sipped on his soda, already hearing Hongjoong's exasperated sigh in his ear. 

Your smile softened at the corners. “I'd love to. After dinner, maybe?”

His shoulders loosened in relief. “Sounds like a plan.”

“This is your chance! It's a sign!” 

Seonghwa frowned at his reflection in the vanity mirror as he played around with his dark curls. Tied up? Kept down? It really didn't matter; he was literally going to be a dragon for the majority of the time, but it never hurt to appear well-groomed before a potential… ahem, friend. A friend. 

Hongjoong slumped down on the foot of their shared bed, a deadpan on his face when Seonghwa continued to ignore him. “Park Seonghwa, so help me, I will plant one of your anklets in her jewelry box—”

“And if you do that,” Seonghwa drawled as he gave up on his hair and reached for the tube of lip gloss on the vanity top, “I will tell that elven girl you've become so fond of about how you—”

“Okay, I got it,” Hongjoong cut in with a scowl. “Aish, so touchy. I'm just saying that this trip is the perfect opportunity to let her know how you feel, and to court her.”

Seonghwa knew that; of course, he fucking knew that. The thing was that if anything went poorly, you would practically be stuck here with him until the end of the trip. He cringed to himself at the mere awkwardness of that potential outcome. “It's just a wing stretch,” he reasoned aloud to himself. He grabbed one of the bottles of cologne on the table to spritz around his scent glands. “It's not like I'm going to offer her a necklace.”

“Yes, because you need to smell nice for a wing stretch.” Hongjoong fell back onto the bed with a grumble under his breath at Seonghwa's stubbornness. 

Dinner had finished up about fifteen minutes ago, and while everyone departed to do their own activities, you and Seonghwa agreed to reconvene at the tops of the caves in five minutes for your planned flight together. The days were growing longer as spring waltzed toward summer, and thus, the sun reigned the skies for a lengthier period of time. The two of you would ideally circle back in time to watch the sunset hit the waterfall.

Seonghwa left Hongjoong to their quarters as he made his way up to the rocky outcropping at the top of the waterfall. 

You were already waiting for him, your bare feet standing in the shallow end of the river leading down to the waterfall. You still had on the top and skirt from earlier, and as a light breeze wafted past, it blew through your hair and your clothes like a dream. 

You glanced up at him. “Ready?”

“Whenever you are.” He grinned as the anticipation and excitement of breaking his wings free slowly bubbled up into his chest. It wasn't only being able to spend time with you, but simply the thoughts of being his dragon self that made him so giddy. 

You hopped out of the river and padded across the soil toward him. 

Once you were in line with him, Seonghwa flashed you a wide smile and sprinted toward the cliff edge. Your laughter followed him as he dove off toward the water below, eyes falling closed as he relished in the wind whipping past his skin. 

When he opened his eyes, he skimmed the water's surface with the edge of a veiny, membranous wing, before swooping back up toward the ripening sky above. His humanoid features had fully transformed into that of a creature nearly five times his human height. Scales of obsidian, gleaming a dark blue in the light, rippled across his back, his skin. He huffed steam from his nostrils and searched for you. 

A body of iridescent white, so pearly that you appeared a shade of light purple in the burning gold light, blurred in his periphery. 

He whipped his head in your direction, watching you soar around him in a loose circle. You wrapped around him and grazed the end of your tail against his, a caress. 

He didn't want to think too much about that. 

And then your irises, blue-purple in this form, were blinking at him. Northward? Your snout gestured in that vague direction. 

Seonghwa huffed his agreement, and the pair of you took off into the skies. 

A dragon shifter's courtship traditions were different from other shifters’ cultures. For one, the value of wearing a potential mate's jewelry was equivalent to acceptance of courtship; additionally, wearing one another's jewels essentially spelled out a long-term partnership. It was similar to humans’ exchanging of rings. 

Dragons dressed their mates in their own jewels as dragons were ruthlessly protective of their hoards of treasures, and a mate was even more precious than any jewel one could acquire. There were other rituals, too—such as dousing one another in dragonfire, performing a certain mating dance, consuming meals made by their mate—but the jewels had always been emphasized in Seonghwa's clan. 

It was why he stiffened when he saw a slim, silver chain wrapped around your ankle this morning. 

The piece of jewelry looked awfully similar to something he owned, except the one you wore was studded with an amethyst on the tail, whereas the one he owned was studded with sapphire. He struggled to swallow as he stepped into the kitchen, eyes pinned to your ankle. 

The way the light refracted off the gem made the article appear so much like his own jewelry; his heart could not take a scare like that so early. Perhaps scare wasn't such an accurate word—he simply hadn't had the time to mentally prepare. 

It didn't matter how long he'd fantasized about it. Seeing the real thing would likely bring him to his knees regardless. 

“Hwa,” your amused chuckle greeted his ears as you peered at him from over the rim of your coffee cup. “Good morning.”

He tried for a smile and forced himself to look at something, anything, other than your ankle. “Hi. Good morning.” Seonghwa grabbed a cup of his own to pour a helping of the brew into. “Sleep well?”

You rolled your shoulders back, followed by your neck. But as he blew on the hot coffee, he failed to notice the way your eyes watched his movements regarding the coffee. “Mhm, way better after we flew last night.”

Seonghwa hummed warmly. “Yes, same here.” Last night was a blissful night of deep sleep. The tension between his shoulder blades had lessened considerably. 

He took a gentle sip of his beverage, and the rich bittersweetness hit him as an alluring wakeup call. You were still watching as he took a larger gulp. 

His eyes met yours. “Something wrong?” He asked, licking his lips. 

Your eyes widened. “Nope,” you squeaked out. You coughed, setting your mug on the table to lace your fingers together. “Uhm so… thoughts on kebabs for lunch? I was gonna go hunting later.”

“Mmh.” Seonghwa drained his cup of coffee. “That sounds good. I can go with you—if you'd like,” he added swiftly. Sometimes hunting could be a therapeutic solo trip and he hoped he wasn't encroaching. Though, going hunting just the two of you sounded nice, too. 

“I'd love the company,” you said. When you smiled, his own widened. 

The brief moment of peace the two of you shared shattered as two bodies barrelled into the room, followed by another set of thundering footsteps behind them. 

“YAH! Choi Jongho, I know this was all your idea!” Wooyoung appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, drenched from head to toe with dark and damp bangs hanging in his seething eyes. A puddle was beginning to form beneath him as he glared at the two giggling imps cowering behind the opposite end of the counter. 

You and Seonghwa connected gazes across the chaos. Good grief. 

From behind Wooyoung's calf, another creature poked her head out to hiss at the perpetrators. Wooyoung's cat familiar looked akin to a wet rat, the poor thing. 

“Seonghwa hyung, do something!”

Seonghwa's eyes drifted over to Jongho and Yeosang, who flashed him a pair of sheepish smiles. “Aye… both of you. Now.”

“We didn't get water on San,” was what Yeosang offered with a shrug. 

That seemed to not be the answer Wooyoung was looking for. If the witch was a dragon instead, Seonghwa was sure he would be blowing steam out of his ears. “Are you kidding me? I am going to hex you so badly, you will never know a day of peac—”

Jongho suddenly yelped, startling everyone as he leaped a couple feet in the air and ran to crouch beside you at the breakfast table. 

“What, what? What is it?” 

Yeosang's eyes had widened to the size of globes, too, as he scurried backward to the edge of the cavern. His stare was still pinned to something on the other side of the counter. 

Seonghwa peered over the ledge and swore sharply. “That is the biggest fucking bug I have ever seen in my life,” he said with his hand pressed to his face, stressed. 

Wooyoung had magically disappeared, and his cat had retreated alongside him. If even the cat didn't want anything to do with the big hunk of insect—

“AH-AH! HYUNG, IT'S MOVING!” Jongho screeched and grabbed the back of your chair to hide behind you. 

Seonghwa paused at that action, but snapped out of it when he saw the legs peek out from around the corner. “Can someone get Yunho?”

“Ohhhhh, I'm too young to die,” the youngest whispered toward the ceiling, his face contorted in fear and anguish; it was a rare thing to see from Jongho. “Yn, please, flame its ass or something!”

You sputtered, curling your feet up onto your chair with you in case the bug came scuttling toward the table. “Uh no. Yunho would literally flame me if I did!”

“Screw what he thinks. He's not here right now.”

Seonghwa clambered up onto the counter and peered over the edge again. He slapped a hand over his mouth after seeing the bug for another time. “Okay,” he said carefully, “on the count of three, we're all going to run for the edge and jump into the lake.”

Three nods from around the room. 

“One…” Everyone shifted an inch toward the cave opening. “Two…”

The fuckass bug moved. 

The countdown was abandoned—Jongho ran for the opening and tackled Yeosang into the water. Seonghwa leaped over the remainder of the countertop in time to swan dive into the lake beside you. His body sliced into the water like a hot knife through butter, and the lake's cool temperatures engulfed him in a refreshing embrace. 

Your head popped up right beside him and you shot him a laughing grin. “Well, that's definitely one way to start off the day.”

He laughed alongside you, slicking his wet hair back and out of his face. “I mean, we were gonna end up in the water at some point,” he mused. 

“True.” Your eyes zeroed in on something just below his jawline. You swam a little closer, and Seonghwa's heart catapulted into his throat. “You have a little, uhm, watercress…”

Your fingers brushed over his collarbone as you gently plucked the strand of watercress out from the links of the necklace sitting on his sternum. You lifted the plant up as if to say, 'Ta da,’ before pausing at your physical proximity. 

Seonghwa watched as a drop of water dripped down the middle of your face, down the slope of your nose, and slipped over your plush lips. Woah…

He had half the mind to reach out and thumb it away. 

“Two dragons, a fae prince, and a water mage couldn't handle a fucking roach?” 

You and Seonghwa jolted away from each other like similar poles of a magnet, heat rushing up to the surface of your skin. You both tilted your gazes up to the caves and saw Yunho appear at the mouth of the kitchen, a wide grin on his face as he held the bug up between his two fingers. 

“That sounds like a joke I've heard before,” San laughed as he walked up next to Yunho. He waved down at the lot of you in the water, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. 

Wooyoung peered out from behind San. “Instant karma!” He hollered. 

“Come down here, and we can talk about instant karma,” Jongho threw right back up at him. He flicked his wrist and sent a jet of lake water up to the cave mouth, hitting Wooyoung square between the eyes with scary accuracy. 

San howled in laughter as his friend hissed from the friendly fire. 

Seonghwa loosened a warm chuckle before turning toward you—wait. Where did you go? He twirled around in the water, eyes scanning the lake for where you'd gone. 

“Hwa!” You were by the far shore, raising your hand up to wave him over. 

He didn't hesitate to swim over toward you. The two of you swam over to the furthest edge of the lake, far from the others. The morning sun had not yet crested high enough to penetrate through the trees here, and that left you both in a patch of dreamy shade where long leaves dripped into the water like Mother Nature's curtains. 

Seonghwa clambered out onto the bank and yanked the hem of his shirt up and over his head. The material had stuck to his skin like glue, and he was a lot more comfortable without it on. 

Behind him though, he swore he heard your breath hitch. 

The corner of his lips curled upward in satisfaction. He continued to feign ignorance as he wrung his wet shirt out, arm muscles flexing as the water trickled out of the fabric. “You coming up, love?” He asked casually, peering over his shoulder at you lingering in the water. 

You cleared your throat as you pulled yourself onto land. “Y-yeah,” you said, covering your stammer with a breathy laugh. 

“Cold?” He teased, finally turning his body to face you in full. 

You passed him an expression of playful exasperation. “Freezing,” you jested back. It was difficult for dragon shifters to be cold; the amount of heat either of you generated on your own was enough to keep you warm all the time. After all, you did spew fire from your mouth on occasion. 

Seonghwa whipped his shirt out in front of him and blew a breath of steam through it. The fabric dried up fast, but instead of putting it back on, he slung it over his shoulder. 

An idea plunked itself into the forefront of his mind. “Shall we hunt?” He asked and extended a hand out to you. 

He saw the flicker of blue-purple in your irises—like lightning—as you brushed a lock of hair from your eyes. You took his hand, your fingers and palms slotting together like matching clasps of a chain. “We shall.”

Seonghwa sat at the vanity table in his and Hongjoong's room. The world beyond the mouth of this cavern was a dark sapphire, embroidered with small diamonds in its fabric—the night sky and its stars. The muffled rush of the waterfall nearby played in the background as he sifted through his traveler's chest of jewelry and gemstones. Hongjoong had half fallen asleep in the hot spring somewhere behind him, so Seonghwa was taking this time to pick out what he wanted to wear to… tomorrow…

His hand movements stilled as something caught his eyes in the chest of shiny stones. He held his breath, carefully withdrawing a silver chain out by its amethyst stone. There was no question about what it was and that it didn't belong to him. 

Your fragrance still lingered on the metal, though cool from being away from your body heat for a while. 

Seonghwa breathed out loudly through his nose as he stared at the article in his palm. 

He could hear Hongjoong emerging from the hot spring pool. “Something wrong, Hwa?”

“Did you” — Seonghwa's brows furrowed and he twisted around on the vanity stool — “steal her anklet?”

Hongjoong frowned, wrapping a towel around his waist before coming to stand beside his friend. He peered down at the article, reaching out to touch the anklet. 

Seonghwa moved his hand away and his chest rumbled with a low growl. 

A soft huff of amusement fell from Hongjoong's lips, and he settled his hand on Seonghwa's shoulder instead. “No, I wouldn't dare. I don't want to face a dragon's wrath for stealing from their hoard, thank you very much.”

“Hmph.” Seonghwa considered the article in his palm once more. If Hongjoong wasn't pulling his leg, then the logical answer was that you put your anklet in his jewelry chest. But why would you do that, and when did you? He would have smelled your scent lingering in this room if you had, and he couldn't pick up on any of his friends’ scents either. 

A flower of hope blossomed in his chest as he thought about the implications of this gesture further. Maybe it didn't matter how it got here, only what you thought about it being here in his possession.

“It's a sign,” Hongjoong giggled, squeezing his shoulder. He trudged away to go find his sweatpants to sleep in. “Your move, Park!”

Seonghwa slowly wrapped his fingers around the chain, a small smile flitting onto his face. In the mirror, his cheekbones burned the color of the rubies in his jewelry case. 

His move, indeed. 

In the morning, Seonghwa rose before day broke the dawn. 

It had come to him like a strike of lightning last night as he laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, weighing the option of wearing your anklet like a lovesick fool or returning it to you in the morning. What he'd remembered, instead, was something you told him about your clan's traditions. 

While his family held a lot more emphasis on adornment for mating traditions, your family clan put more importance on the act of making a meal for a potential partner. Consuming said meal was an acceptance of courtship and love. 

As he hunched over the kitchen countertop pouring over a recipe on his phone, he marinated on how to go about this. Presenting you with breakfast—that he only made for you, might he add—was not a subtle move in the slightest. Perhaps slipping your anklet into his things could be interpreted a couple ways, but it wasn't a glaring neon sign like this gesture was going to be. 

Nonetheless, Seonghwa got to work. He was counting on his friends to stay the fuck asleep. 

About an hour later, he was just finishing up when he picked up on the sound of your bare feet padding across the hallway toward the kitchen. Your perfume followed next, carrying into the room on an invisible breeze. Seonghwa drummed his fingers against the countertop as you strolled into the room, eyes wide and bright when you saw him there with food made. 

“Well, something smells yummy,” you said warmly. “Should I go wake the others?”

“No!” He laughed nervously, breaking into a bashful smile. “No need. This—this is just for you. I mean, I made breakfast for you.”

Your eyes seemed to grow even wider. “Break—breakfast for me? Just me?”

He nodded and wrung his hands in front of his body. “Just you… if that's okay.”

“Of course, that's okay. More than okay, really,” you murmured, eyes turning shy. The implications were too blatant not to miss or deny. 

Seonghwa gestured for you to take a seat at the breakfast table and presented you with the hot and fresh plate of breakfast he'd just made. He claimed the seat across from you with his own plate, but didn't touch it yet. His nerves made his hands shake beneath the table as he watched you take your utensil and fork a bite into your mouth. 

Something warm burst in his chest as you swallowed, then took another bite. 

“It's really good,” you said to him between bites. Your mouth was pursed into a wide smile, a tenderness swimming in your gemstone irises. “I think though,” you murmured after swallowing, “that we need to talk.”

Seonghwa's stomach tightened, but he nodded. “Agreed. I, uhm, I found this in my jewelry case last night.” He pulled out the strand of silver and amethyst from his pocket. The metal and jewel glistened in the soft morning sunlight pouring into the open cavern. 

“Oh, you didn't wear it?”

He went doe-eyed. “I wanted to—I just wanted to be clear about intentions first, just because if I wore this…” He stammered, “Then you'd be mine and I'd be yours.” 

The wording of it made your pulse skip, but it was exactly what you wanted. All of this stumbling around each other, falling over yourselves, was for this purpose. 

“Is that right, love?”

You nodded, as the two of you shared a smile in the glow of early morning. “That's right.”

He would be yours, and you would be his. 

Breakfast was dined upon in peace with quiet murmurings exchanged between the two of you, accompanied by light laughter and loving gazes. It was a marvel none of it was interrupted by the other occupants of the lakeside getaway. 

There was another thing that had to be done in order to seal the deal, however. 

When breakfast was finished and cleaned up after, Seonghwa barged back into his and Hongjoong's shared bedroom. His demon best friend was nowhere to be found, but it was no matter. Seonghwa went over to the vanity table and carefully picked up the necklace he had laid out last night. It was white gold studded in fat, glistening rubies—his prized possession, and one of the few pieces he had saved for only his future partner to wear.

That giddy excitement curled in his stomach again as he took the necklace with him up to your bedroom on the second floor. You were there waiting for him, your foot braced on the vanity stool to fix his sapphire chain onto your ankle, as your amethyst one laid around his. 

“This,” he murmured as he came up behind you in the mirror, “I've been saving for someone special.” He locked eyes with you in the looking glass, a sweet smile playing on his lips as he draped the heavy gems over your sternum. 

Blood rubies were precious and harder to come by these days, which was why Seonghwa coveted them. It only made sense that they should rest now on a person he would also come to value even more. They sat perfectly upon your collarbones, like a tiara upon your head… like it was made for you. You were yourself a treasure. 

Seonghwa could hardly contain his contentment at the sight. He wrapped his arms around your middle as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, smiling against your skin. “Perfect.”

a/n: don't forget to reblog + comment if u enjoyed!

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[joelmillerisapunk]

unbelievable

mechanic!Joel x f!reader

masterlist

wordcount: 4,489

summary: the 'It's not just your car that needs fixing, is it?' Trope

warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, lots of fingering, there's a joint, lots of 'sweetheart', some aftercare but like a bit different (I don't wanna spoil it) mentions of anxiety (bc I'm an anxious bltch and this would happen to me) fluffy smut?

notes: hiii 🥰 I hope you like mechanicJoel because I fell in love with him so fast, he has no right being so hot 🙃 The title is unbelievable by diamond rio, it felt pretty accurate to my inner Joel dialogue. a big thank you to @saradika-graphics & @firefly-graphics for the dividers (graphic designers deserve the world honestly)

You've always had a thing for rugged men, and Joel Miller is the epitome of a handsome, rough-around-the-edges mechanic. His strong hands, grease-stained clothes, and confident demeanor make your heart race every time you see him, which has been a lot recently since your old car has been having its fair share of problems.

It's a hot summer day, and you decide to visit the garage where Joel works, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. As you walk in, the smell of oil and gasoline fills your nostrils, making you feel a little lightheaded. But then, you see him. He's hunched over a car engine, his muscular arms covered in sweat and grime. Your heart skips a beat as you take in the sight of him.

You approach Joel, trying to act cool and collected, even though your insides are turning to jelly. "Hey, Joel," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "I was wondering if you could help me with my car again. It's been making a weird noise, and I don't know what to do."

Joel looks up at you, his beautiful brown eyes meeting yours. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of grease on his face. "Sure thing, sweetheart," he says with an almost knowing grin. You've been coming to see him every couple of weeks for the past few months. "Let me take a look for you, darlin."

As Joel inspects your car, you can't help but steal glances at his muscular physique. You imagine what it would be like to run your hands over his firm chest and his stomach, to feel his stubble scratch against your skin as he kisses you. The thought makes you wet, and you squirm, trying to hide your arousal.

But Joel notices. He looks up at you, his gaze intense and seductive. "You seem a little flustered, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and husky. "Is there something on your mind?"

You swallow hard, trying to gather your nerves. The heat in the garage is making you feel more and more flustered, and the idea of Joel noticing your arousal only adds to your embarrassment. "Uh, yeah, I guess so," you manage to reply.

Joel's eyes rake over your body, taking in the way your shirt clings to your body and the way your nipples are hardening under the hot conditions. "I can tell you've been coming to see me for a while now. It's not just your car that needs fixing, is it?"

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you can feel the heat rising to your face. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stammer, trying to deny the truth even to yourself.

But Joel isn't backing down. He steps closer to you, his body towering over yours. "I can help you with your car, sweetheart," he says, his voice a low growl. "But if you're looking for something else, something a little more personal, I can do that too."

Your mind is racing as you try to figure out what to do. On one hand, you've always had a thing for rough-and-tumble men like Joel, and the idea of being with him is almost too much to bear. On the other hand, you're not sure if you're ready for something like that with someone you're not even dating. As you stand there, frozen in indecision, Joel reaches out and gently takes your hand in his. "It's okay, darlin," he says, his voice soft and reassuring. "You don't have to decide right now. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

Joel continues working on your car, he takes his time, making sure to do everything a little slower. He runs his hand over the engine, and with every turn of the wrench and every adjustment of parts, you can't help but feel your heart race, your skin tingle, and your body heat up. He's wearing a pair of tight jeans that hug his thighs, and every time he bends over the car, you catch a glimpse of the outline of his bulge. You wonder what it would feel like to touch him there, to feel him hard and ready against your skin. Your mind races with fantasies of him taking you, claiming you, making you his in ways that go far beyond the mechanical fixings of a car.

Joel takes a bit of a break from your car, and you think he's about to tell you what was wrong with it. "You know, sweetheart, I could fix more than just your car," he repeats himself again, " I could fix all your problems, make you feel good in ways you've never felt before."

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. "What do you mean?"

Joel grins, a knowing look in his eyes. "I mean, I could show you the kind of fixings that only a man like me can provide," he says, his voice low and seductive. "Make you mine, take you right here. I promise you, it's something you'd never forget.”

“Oh, uh I, uhm I need to -” You pause, looking at your phone, “I have a thing soon. So I should uh go when you're done.” You can barely keep yourself together as you fumble through your sentence.

Joel smirks, "Of course, sweetheart," he says, his voice reassuring. "When you're ready, I'll be here.”

As you exit the garage, you feel a mix of excitement and anxiety coursing through your veins. Joel's words have left you feeling both turned on and terrified at the same time.

You spend the next few hours trying to shake off the encounter, but your mind keeps wandering back to Joel's words and the way his body made you feel. You can't stop thinking about the way his muscles bulged under his tight jeans, or the way his hair curled, his strong jawline, or the way those lips would part everytime he would focus on your car. You want to touch him, taste him, feel him- anything. And you're desperate to hear him speak that sexy accent of his once again.

When you finally arrive home, you let yourself into your apartment and immediately head straight for your bedroom. You shed your clothes as fast as possible, trying to rid your entire day from your skin. After your shower, you pull on a pair of shorts, your favorite oversized t shirt before padding barefoot across the carpeted floor of your room.

Just as you're opening your bedroom door to get a snack, your phone rings. You glance at your screen - a number with no name showing up - before answering the call, your heart pounding in anticipation. “Hello?”

You can hear a woman's voice in the background, "I told you not to come in my office. You can't just call random clients." Then you hear a muffled males voice and the woman again. "Yes... I understand she hasnt paid, but we don't contact clients until the end of the month."

You sit there unsure of what to do, should you say something? Should you hang up? Should you ignore her? Suddenly, you hear yelling. "Out - now!" she exclaims before apologizing for the misunderstanding and hanging up the phone on you. As you hang up the phone, you can't help but feel a sense of confusion and disappointment wash over you. You had been hoping that it was Joel on the other end of the line and that he was calling to follow up on his earlier proposition. But instead, it seems like you were caught in the middle of a heated exchange between a man and a woman, and you can't help but wonder what it all means.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. You know that you can't let yourself get too caught up in the idea of Joel. You need to focus on yourself and your own needs rather than getting swept up in the allure of a man you barely know. You've got plenty of people who love you, and it's better to prioritize your relationships than get carried away with a man like Joel. You know you wouldn't be able to handle it.

But then suddenly here you are. You take a deep breath and steel yourself as you walk back into the garage, hoping to catch Joel before he leaves for the day. The receptionist gives you a disapproving look as you enter, but you ignore her and make your way towards Joel, who has just finished up with a customer. As you approach, Joel looks up and sees you, a small smile spreading across his face. "Hey there, sweetheart," he says, wiping his hands on a nearby towel. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "I, uh, I had some questions about my car," you say, trying to sound casual. "I figured I'd come down and ask you in person."

Joel raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything. Instead, he nods towards the back of the garage, inviting you to follow him. As you walk, you can't help but notice the way his muscles ripple under his shirt or the way his jeans hug his hips. You feel a heat creeping up your neck, and you hope he doesn't notice.

Once you're in the back, Joel crosses his arms over his chest and looks at you with a serious expression. "Listen, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and intense. "I know what you're doing, and I want you to know that it's not going to work."

You furrow your brow, confused. "What do you mean?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

Joel takes a step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I mean that I know you're trying to avoid what's going on between us," he says, his voice softening. "And I get it. I know I'm not the easiest person to be around." You open your mouth to protest, but Joel holds up a hand to stop you. "But I also know that there's something between us, something real and intense," he continues. "And I don't want to ignore it anymore."

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "What are you saying?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel takes another step closer to you, his body almost touching yours. "I'm saying that I want you, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and seductive. "I want to make you feel good, to show you things you've never experienced before."

Your mind is racing as you try to process what Joel is saying. On one hand, you're terrified of the intensity of your feelings for him so soon, of the way he makes your heart race and your skin tingle. On the other hand, you can't deny the attraction you feel towards him, the way your body responds to his voice alone.

As you stand there, frozen, Joel reaches out and gently takes your hand in his. "It's okay, darlin," he says, his voice soft and reassuring.

You know that you have a choice to make, a decision to make about what you want and what you're ready for. And as you stand there, looking into Joel's beautiful brown eyes, you know that you're ready. Without saying a word, you lean in and press your lips to Joel's, feeling the heat and passion of his kiss. Joel responds eagerly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer. You can feel the strength and power of his body. As Joel deepens the kiss, he reaches down and gently lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you over to a nearby workbench. He sets you down gently, cupping your face in his hands, "Be right back, sweetheart, don't go anywhere.”

Just as Joel turns to lock up, the receptionist calls out, "Joel, she can't stay here. She's not an employee."

Joel turns to her, his expression stern. "I'll take care of it, Linda," he says. "Just go home."

Linda looks taken aback, but she doesn't argue. She grabs her things and leaves the garage, shooting you a disapproving look as she goes.

Once she's gone and the doors are locked,Joel walks back over to you, a mischievous glint in his eye. He pulls a small joint out of his pocket and holds it up for you to see. "Ever tried this before, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

You shake your head, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "No, I haven't," you admit.

Joel grins, lighting the joint and taking a deep drag. He holds it out to you, his eyes locked on yours. "Here, let me show you," he says.

You lean in, taking a tentative puff on the joint. The smoke is harsh and unfamiliar, but the sensation of Joel's hand on your back, guiding you, is intoxicating. You feel a warm, tingly sensation spreading through your body. He pulls back, his eyes shining with desire as he takes another drag. "You like that, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod, unable to speak. You've never smoked weed before, but with Joel, it feels right. It feels intimate and exciting, like you're sharing a secret that only the two of you know. For a while, the two of you just stand there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away, like you're the only two people in the entire world, and it's a feeling you never want to let go of.

But eventually, the joint burns down to nothing, and the two of you are forced to come back to reality. Joel grins, leaning in to kiss you again. This time, his lips are soft and gentle, his tongue exploring your mouth as he deepens the kiss. You can feel the warmth of the weed spreading through your body, making you feel relaxed and happy.

As you kiss, Joel's hands roam over your body, his fingers tracing the curves of your waist and the swell of your breasts. You moan softly, your body responding to his touch. You can feel the heat building between your legs, your clit throbbing with desire.

Joel breaks the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "I want you, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and intense. "I want to make you feel good.” You nod, your body trembling with anticipation. You want him too, more than anything. You want to feel his hands on your body, his lips on your skin. You want to feel him inside you, filling you up and making you his.

Joel's fingers find the hem of your shirt, lifting it up over your head. He tosses it aside, his eyes raking over your body. You're wearing a lacy bra, the color of pale pink. Joel's fingers trace the lines of your bra, his touch gentle and teasing. You can feel your nipples hardening under the lace, your body begging for more.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart," Joel says, his voice low and husky. "I can't wait to taste you." With a quick motion, he removes your bra, throwing it to the floor.

He leans in, his mouth closing over one of your nipples. His tongue flicks at the hard peak, making you gasp with pleasure. Joel's hands roam over your body. He reaches down, his fingers finding the waistband of your shorts. He tugs them down, his fingers tracing the lines of your lacy panties. You can feel his breath against your skin, hot and heavy. Joel's fingers find the edge of your panties, tugging them aside. His fingers trace the outer lips of your pussy, his touch gentle and teasing.

Joel's fingers find your entrance, sliding inside you with ease. You gasp with pleasure, your body responding to his touch. He starts to move his fingers inside you, faster, his touch more urgent. You can feel the orgasm building inside you.

"Fuck, sweetheart, so fuckin' tight," Joel growls.

You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Joel's fingers continue to work their magic.

And then, suddenly, you're there.

You cry out as you come, your orgasm ripping through you like wildfire. Joel's fingers continue, drawing out your pleasure until you're left weak and trembling in his arms. “S'okay baby, s'okay, you did so so good for me sweetheart.”

As your orgasm subsides, Joel pulls his fingers out of you, his eyes dark with desire. He licks his fingers clean, his tongue tracing the lines of your juices. You watch him, your mouth parted like you just watched him lick the tastiest ice cream cone.

Joel reaches down, his fingers finding the button of his jeans. He undoes it, tugging his jeans down over his hips. He's not wearing any underwear, and his cock springs free, hard and ready.

You can't help but stare, your eyes wide with desire. Joel's cock is long and thick, the head dark and swollen. You can see a drop of pre-cum glistening on the tip, and you can't wait to taste it. Joel steps closer to you, his cock brushing against your thigh. You can feel the heat of it, the hardness. You reach out, your fingers wrapping around the shaft. Joel groans, his head falling back as you start to stroke him. You can feel his body trembling, his cock twitching in your hand. You stroke him faster, your hand moving up and down the shaft. Joel's hands roam over your body. He reaches down, tugging your panties off in one swift motion.

You're completely exposed now, your pussy on full display. Joel's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his cock throbbing in your hand.

"Fuck, you look so hot," Joel growls.

You've never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But with Joel, it feels right. It feels exciting and thrilling, he reaches down, his fingers finding your clit. He starts to rub, his touch gentle and teasing.

"Do you like that, sweetheart?" Joel asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, unable to speak. "You're so fucking hot,," Joel growls. "I can't wait to taste you."

He drops to his knees in front of you, his eyes locked on yours. He reaches up, his fingers tracing your inner thighs. You can feel his breath against your skin, hot and heavy. Joel's tongue finds your clit, gentle and teasing. You gasp with pleasure, your body responding to his touch. Joel's tongue moves lower, tracing the outer lips of your pussy. His tongue finds your entrance, pushing inside you. You can feel him exploring his tongue, tracing your walls. Joel's fingers find your clit again, rubbing in time with his tongue.

"Fuck, Joel, m’gonna come," you cry out grabbing onto his hair.

Joel doesn't stop, his tongue and fingers continuing, his eyes don't leave yours, it makes him almost painfully hard watching you come. You cry out as you come. Joel's tongue continues to lick at your pussy, drawing out your pleasure.

"You taste so fucking good, sweetheart," Joel growls, standing up.

He steps closer to you, his cock brushing against your entrance. Joel's hands find your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. "You ready for me sweetheart?

"Yes, please, Joel." He pushes inside you, his cock filling you up completely. You gasp with pleasure, your body responding to his touch. Joel starts to move, his hips thrusting against you. His cock hits that sweet spot inside of you with every stroke. Joel reaches down, his fingers finding your. You can feel your body trembling, your pleasure building higher and higher.

"Fuck, Joel, I'm gonna come again," you cry out, your voice hoarse with pleasure.

Joel's thrusts become more urgent, his fingers moving faster. You can feel your orgasm building, your body tensing with pleasure until you come again. Joel's thrusts become erratic, his body tensing as he reaches his own release. He groans, his cock twitching inside of you as he fills you with his seed.

The two of you lie there, panting and sated, your bodies still tangled together. Joel's forehead is pressed against yours, his eyes shining with desire and affection. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the beating of his heart against your chest.

"You're so fucking perfect, sweetheart," Joel murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You smile, feeling a sense of contentment. But even as those thoughts run through your mind, you also know that you can't let yourself get carried away. You barely know Joel, and there are things about him that you don't know. Important things.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you know you have to do. "Joel, I... I need to go," you say, your voice soft but firm.

Joel's expression changes, a hint of sadness and disappointment flashing in his eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, his voice soft.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Suddenly, the walls feel like they're closing in on you, and you can't catch your breath. "I-I can't breathe," you manage to say, your voice shaking.

Joel's face falls, and he pulls you into a tight embrace. "It's okay, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice soothing. "Just breathe with me, in and out. You're safe, I've got you."

You focus on Joel's voice, trying to match your breathing to his. Slowly, the panic begins to recede, and you can feel your heart rate returning to normal. "I'm so sorry," you say, your voice still shaking. "I don't know what came over me."

Joel shushes you, his hand tracing circles on your back. "It's okay," he says. "You don't have to apologize. You've been through a lot today. It's okay to feel overwhelmed."

You nod, feeling a sense of shame wash over you. You wanted to be strong, to be brave, but instead, you fell apart.

Joel must sense your embarrassment because he pulls back and looks at you with a serious expression. "Hey, listen to me," he says, his voice firm. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. You're allowed to feel however you feel, and I'm here, no matter what. Okay?"

You nod, feeling a sense of gratitude towards Joel. He's been so kind and understanding, even for someone who knows nothing about you and you can't help but feel drawn to him.

"Come on, sweetheart," Joel says, standing up and pulling you to your feet. "Let's get you out of here and into some fresh air. How about we go to my place and spend the night? I promise, no funny business."

You know it sounds crazy but a sense of relief washes over you as you agree. You don't want to be alone right now, and the thought of spending the night with Joel is weirdly comforting. As much as you know, you should probably just go home. Joel helps you get dressed, his hands gentle and reassuring. Once you're both dressed, he leads you outside and into his truck. He drives you to his house, his hand resting on yours the entire time. When you arrive, Joel leads you inside and shows you to his bedroom. He pulls back the covers and helps you climb into bed, tucking you in like a child. "Just rest, sweetheart," he says, his voice soft. "I'll be right back."

You nod, feeling a sense of exhaustion wash over you. Joel returns a few minutes later with a glass of water. He helps you sit up and take a sip of water, then lays down next to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It's soothing, and you can feel yourself drifting off to sleep.

"Thank you, Joel," you murmur, your voice sleepy.

Joel kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. "Anytime, sweetheart," he says. "I'm always here for you."

As you drift off to sleep, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Joel. He's been so kind and understanding. For the first time in a long time, you feel safe, and you know that everything is going to be okay.

As you sleep, Joel watches over you, his eyes full of affection and concern. He's fallen for you, hard.

As the night wears on, Joel holds you close, his arms wrapped around you. He knows that you're not ready for anything serious, and he's okay with that. For now, he's just happy to be with you, to be there for you, to comfort you, and to make you happy.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Zoro knows your father would never let him date you. That doesn't stop him from climbing through your window in the middle of the night.]

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The night is hot and humid but you feel unbelievably cold. Part of you wants to blame Roronoa Zoro for that state of things, although you know only your lovesick heart is to blame. Ever since you accidentally fell asleep against him while watching the stars, each night without him is a dread. The kingsize bed feels overwhelmingly big and empty, despite being the same bed you've been sleeping in your whole life.

You're sitting at your vanity, blindly staring at your reflection in the mirror, the activities of your nightly routine long forgotten. The nightgown you're wearing is so thin it's almost see-through and yet you still feel sweat running down your back. You've opened the window and unbuttoned half of the garment but it changed nothing. Monsoon season is truly uncomfortable.

"You look nice," a low voice speaks behind you.

Your blood runs cold as your heart halts for a moment. Quick enough to give yourself whiplash, you look over your shoulder at the unforeseen guest.

Zoro is sitting on your windowsill, back comfortably leaning against the window frame. His swords are propped up against the wall. It seems that he has been perched there for a while now, quietly watching you in your natural habitat. Beads of sweat on his forehead are glistening in the twilight of your candle-lit room. His hair, a deep shade of green, looks almost black in the darkness of the night. The intense look in his eyes makes you flustered, almost forcing you to look away. Still, something about his presence is so magnetic, you can't force your head away.

The initial dread of someone being in your room with you subsides but then another terror creeps in - the terror of someone stationed barely two rooms away. The very same man who sees anything pirate-related as problems that require violence as the solution. Even pirate hunters.

Nervously, you clench your hands into tight fists. "Do you have the slightest idea what my dad will do if he finds you here?" you hiss at Zoro, afraid that any sound would awaken your father.

The thought of 'You're worth it' is the first thing that crosses his mind. But no matter how true, Zoro can't find the courage to let such vulnerability be known.

"I don't care," he answers. Zoro gets up from the windowsill and lays in your bed with such casualness as though there is nothing out of the ordinary in his behaviour. Like he's not risking bodily harm to be within the confines of your bedroom.

You watch him in shock, eyes wide open. "He could come in at any moment, Zoro."

But he's just laying there, hands under his head as he's staring at you out of the corner of his eye. "Your old man's sleeping like a log," he states, uninterested.

The short moment of silence between you is filled with your father's muffled snoring. It's still a mystery to you how your mother can sleep with him in the same bed and wake up well-rested in the morning.

"Well, what if he wasn't?" you continue to argue but you already feel the need to do good by your father withdrawing, its place taken by something much more motivating and hard to explain. A calling, one might say.

"Just come here." Zoro motions at you.

Your flowy gown shuffles quietly as you get up from the chair by the vanity and gently lay on top of Zoro on your bed. As the familiar scent of wood, hay and metal hits your nostrils, you can feel all of your muscles immediately relax. All of the tension you carry in your shoulders and back is suddenly gone. In some unconscious reflex, one of his arms circles your waist, keeping you firmly in place. The strength of his hold couldn't be challenged even by a fatherly wrath.

Despite neither of you saying anything for a good moment, your bedroom is not filled with silence. Various sounds of the tropical island are pouring in through the open window: rustling bushes, laughter of late-night drinkers, cicadas, packs of stray dogs barking at each other in the distance. And, above all, the calming hum of the sea as its waves rhythmically wash the shore. The music of life as it follows its mundane, routine path.

"I can't sleep without you," you finally whisper against his firm chest.

"Me too," he admits quietly.

Although Zoro knows how ridiculous of a euphemism this really is, he never lets on. All of his waking hours are accompanied by thinking of you ('Are you safe? Are you alright? Do you miss him? Are you taking care of yourself? Do you ne-'). He's gone from taking multiple naps a day to barely one, only because he feels desperately uncomfortable sleeping alone as though his physiology knows that something important is missing. And when Zoro does finally fall asleep, you appear in his dreams. Sometimes he wakes up with the memory of your scent and touch lingering for a moment until he comes to his senses.

"Will you be here in the morning?" you ask hesitantly. It's selfish to ask Zoro to stick his neck out like that but at the same time, you desperately don't want this moment to end.

"Do you want me to?" he whispers.

As you nod, your cheek rubs against his chest.

You feel his chin resting on top of your head, further encircling you in a tight hold like a child who refuses to let go of their favourite toy. Perhaps Zoro is not the best with words but his actions tell you more than enough - if he could, he'd keep you close just like that until his last day. But knowing this moment ought to end in a few short hours, he wishes to memorize every detail of the way your body fits his.

That night Zoro wasn't sleeping in his own bed but still, he felt he was home.

[ebodebo]

Red Is Dead

previous

—you find a familiar friend in an alleyway

—red hood x f!reader

—2.4k

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The rain fell gently, a soft patter that barely disturbed the stillness of the evening. The smell of damp soil and blossoming flowers filled your nostrils as you made your way home. You felt a sense of calmness wash over your body as you walked. It was honestly pretty surprising that a city as crime-ridden and lively as Gotham could invoke any serenity.

You weren't even from the city, but people talked. They criticized the city for being perilous since it was full of criminals and villains alike reaping havoc on the city every night—well, except from the looks of it, tonight.

Maybe tonight was their night off, you thought, before following with a small laugh.

You glance at Tom, your newish bodyguard, steadily walking behind you—poised as always. Your father had insisted he hire one since Gotham was unsafe, and some people would love nothing more than to see your father hurt—even if it meant going through you to do it.

Your father had insisted, more like forced, that you take him with you on your little expedition. Truthfully, you had really no idea why you had decided to leave the apartment you stayed in when you were in town and walk down the strip.

It was most likely to try to get a certain blue-eyed boy out of your head. It was odd; you couldn't get that guy out of your head since Bruce's gala. You two had slept together—on a roof. It was a one-night stand, and you couldn't forget about it. What was wrong with you?

"It's quiet," you say, trying to hide your embarrassment from laughing at seemingly nothing.

"Quite," Tom agrees. You sigh as you drudge your legs, irritated by his lack of conversion.

"Did you have to take a communication class before you got this gig?" You offhandedly ask as you walk past an apparent new burger place with a flashy sign that reads 'Between The Buns.'

"I don't believe so," he hums, not sparing the tacky sign a singular glance. You glance back at him, humming a sound of acknowledgment.

"You didn't need to trouble yourself with walking me home, Tom," you assure, stopping in front of him to admire another storefront, this time of a flower shop named 'The Flower Pot,' which is oddly next to an alleyway.

"It's my job to protect you, Miss," he informs, voice steady.

"I know, but—" you begin, turning your head to look down the alleyway, noticing a figure hunched against the shop's bricked wall, softly cursing. Your eyes widen, taking note of the reflective shiny red of his helmet that you could see even in the shitty lighting.

"What's the matter?" Tom questions, wondering what you're looking at. You spare him a glance before sprinting over to the hunched-over figure. Tom yells your name, trailing behind you.

Once you reach the figure, chest heaving, you look over the side of his abdomen, seeing blood spatters seeping through what looks like a shirt. You breathe out, hand coming to cover your mouth.

"Oh my—oh, he's, he's dead! Oh my—Tom! Tom!" You squeal, pointing at the bloodied and beaten person in front of you—that looked a helluva lot like a certain vigilante you spotted in a tabloid. Tom stepped closer to the guy, carefully observing him to see if he was in fact dead.

As he tried to reach down and grab the guy's wrist, his hand came up to grasp Tom's.

"Not dead," the guy murmured, moving his hand to hold his abdomen. "Kinda wish I was, though." Your eyes widen again, eyes scanning his helmet and the guns strapped to his thighs, and ears taking notice of the modulation of his voice.

"Hey, wait. You're that Hood guy," you announce, pointing a finger at him.

"Maybe, maybe not," the guy shrugs, clutching his side tighter, clearly trying to suppress losing any more blood.

"No, you're totally him," you tilt your head, bringing your hands to rest on your hips. "I heard about you from the Gazelle—Red Hood, right?"

"Hey, hey. Keep your voice down," the guy urged, slightly sitting up, hissing at the action. He leaned back against the wall, throwing his head back as he did. He flicked his eyes back to yours, briefly taking note of your soured expression.

"Fine. You caught me," Hood groaned, raising his hand to observe it and cursing as he saw it caked in a mix of fresh and old blood. You look at Tom before bending down, putting your body weight on your toes.

"Fuck. You need to go to the hospital," you murmur, looking into his eyes.

"No hospital," Hood's gaze flicks to yours; his tone is unmistakably serious.

"You'll bleed out and die," you attest, eyes glaring at his.

"I'm not going to a hospital," he says, turning his head away from you.

"I can't—are you serious?" You dryly laugh.

"Dead," he insists.

"Well, I'm not leaving you to die," you cross your arms over your chest, clearly not budging.

"Why? Would it hurt your feeble conscience?" He gibed, hissing as he brought his hand to grip the gash.

"I—you can't just ask me to let you die, Red," you affirm, bringing your hands to put more pressure on where blood seeps out.

"I'm not," he hisses. "I just said no hospital."

"So, then, where do you suppose we take you? You hiss, agitated at his lack of cooperation and appreciation that you didn't just leave his ass to bleed out. "That fucking burger place across the street?"

"Wouldn't chance it," he begins, wheezing as Tom picks his shirt up a little to expose the bloody gash, carefully pressing his handkerchief that was tucked nicely in his coat pocket onto it to try and stop the bleeding. "They might put me in the burgers."

"Gross," you roll your eyes at Red before turning to Tom. "What the hell are we going to do with him?" Tom takes a breath before pulling his phone out to text someone.

"No, seriously, they would put me in that meat grinder," Red deadpans.

"Shut up," you grumbled, pressing his abdomen harder. "Let me think."

"And then feed me to everyone," his voice is indifferent before it turns curious. "Wonder if I'm tasty?"

"Oh my god, you're impossible," you deeply sigh.

"The limo is pulling up," Tom supplies, tucking his phone into his jacket pocket and glancing at Red and then at you. “I'm sure you don't want to hear this, but I work for your family, so it's your call. Where do you want to take him?" Tom says coolly.

You look back at an anguished Red, silently cursing from pain. Taking a deep breath, you look at Tom, nodding towards Red.

"I'll take him to my apartment," you declare. Red lets out a dry chuckle as Tom helps him up, bringing his arm to grip Red's lower back tightly, while Red's arms drape over his shoulders.

"Woah, woah. I'm not just some stray cat you can take in cus' I'm cute," Red groggily says.

"I don't think you're cute," you plainly say as you and Tom guide him into the back of the limo. The driver holds the door open, paying no heed to what is happening.

"I actually think you're a bit of a dick," you shrug, getting him situated in his seat as you sink into the seat next to him, gently placing your hand to put more pressure on his wound.

"Do those things have to be mutually exclusive?" Red quips, tilting his head back on the headrest.

"To me, yes," you simply say, hearing Tom mutter something to the driver. "To be considered cute, you can't be a dick, and if you're a dick, you aren't cute."

"Mhm. You're an odd one, alright," Red murmurs, putting pressure on the wound himself. Your eyes flick to his as you feel his hands lay on top of yours on his abdomen, surprised to find his eyes already dulling into yours.

"You—we probably, um, we probably only need one pair of hands for pressure," you feel your face heat as you pull your hands off of him, laying them on either side of your thighs instead.

"Okay. We'll be there in fifteen," Tom says, turning to look at you and Red. He raises a brow at how you sit straight up in the seat and your hands tightly tucked to your side. You are grateful when he doesn't question why. "Also, just for the record, I had no prior knowledge of this happening. Yes?" Tom asks, tilting his head towards you.

"Got it. You don't want to be my accomplice," you amend, tipping your head towards him.

Once you reach your apartment, Tom helps you bring Red inside to rest on the couch. You assure him you will be fine. He says he is only a call away if you need anything.

You were honestly surprised that Tom willingly left, but maybe he was finally starting to see you as an adult and not a child, or perhaps he didn't want Red's blood on his hands if he did die while under your roof. You hoped the former.

"So, uh, are you thirsty?" You yell from your place in the bathroom, opening the cupboard under your sink and fumbling with the cleaning supplies to try and grab your small first aid kit. "Hungry?"

"Not really," Red gravels, pressing a button on his shiny red mask to open it before ripping it off to reveal a simple black domino mask.

"You should probably have some water at least," you say, heading into the kitchen to fill a fresh glass with tap water from your sink. You walk into the living room, gently placing the water next to him on the side table while you sit on the coffee table, shuffling through the first aid kit.

"Thanks," he gruffed, reaching for the cup of water and chugging down almost the whole glass, wiping some of the water that dripped down his chin with the back of his gloved hand.

You looked up, a hint of humor in your eyes at his chugging before you saw it. His lips. You knew those lips. You were sure of it. You fiddled with a piece of gauze you dipped in saline in your hand as your eyes examined him further.

"What?" Red curiously says, taking notice of fervent staring. You dart your eyes back to his before moving back to the gauze.

"Sorry. You—you just look a little familiar," you admit, moving closer to him. He gently lifts his shirt just high enough so you can clean the wound.

"Ya," he winces as he feels the gauze gently pat around the gash. "Knew that wouldn't last long," he utters as he rips off his black domino mask, tossing it to his side.

You are slightly startled by his swift movement, pulling back. "Wha—Jason," you exclaim, shock and disbelief coating your face. "You—you're," you stutter, unsure of what to say.

"Ya," he awkwardly says, cringing from pain as he scratches the back of his neck. "Fuck."

"Shit. Okay, okay. We need to take care of this before we dive into—you use your hand to gesture towards him—that." He lightly nods as you delicately place the gauze onto the gash.

"Fuck—fuck!" He curses, throwing his head back, jaw clenching as he grinds his teeth.

"You okay?" You halt your actions, staring at him with more gauze in hand.

"Does it look like I'm okay?" He grits, tipping his head down to look at you. Your eyes are wide at his tone. He sighs. "M'sorry. Just—just keep going," he exasperates, laying his head back down, inhaling and exhaling slowly as you finish placing the gauze and taping it thoughtfully to ensure it was secure on his skin. He pulls his shirt down almost immediately after you finish.

"It should be okay tonight, Red. But you should really get it checked out tomorrow," you begin, closing up the kit. "You know, by a doctor."

"You can," he pauses momentarily. "Just call me Jason."

"Okay, Jason," you smile a little, "Please get it checked tomorrow." He nods as you get up to put the first aid kit back in your bathroom. You come back to see him staring up at the ceiling.

"I, uh, died," he mumbles as you take a seat on the couch cushion farthest from him. You let out a laugh, turning your head to look at him. His face is still looking at the ceiling, but it lacks humor.

"What do you mean?" You question.

"Just—I don't know," he raises his hand, trying to shoo away the question. "Forget it."

"Jason," you softly say, hand lingering closer to his own. "Tell me." You bring your hand to lay on top of his; he turns towards you swiftly at the contact. You lightly smile to let him know it's okay. He takes a deep breath before revealing more.

He doesn't go into detail about what occurred during his time in Arkham, but he did talk about his resurrection from Lazarus Pit; you didn't even know what the hell that was. He just said it can revive someone from the dead if they have just died.

"Then you became Red Hood?" You quietly asked, your hand gripping his tighter. You had not even realized it, but sometime during the conversation, you had scooted closer to him.

"Then I became Red Hood," he agrees, a light glint of humor dancing across his face. You hum a sound of acknowledgment, contemplating your following words.

"Does your dad know?" You ask, tilting your head a little. He raises a brow, clearly confused.

"Does my—" he begins to question before he lets out a slight huff, "Bruce?" You nod.

"He does," Jason affirms without the sarcastic commentary he would typically enforce since you just looked so sincere.

You both sat in silence for a bit, heads leaned back on the headrest of the couch, staring at the ceiling, fingers now interlaced. Oddly, it felt so casual—like you had just done this a million times before. You had only met him once before, but you felt like you could just trust him with your life—I mean, he had trusted you with his.

"You should sleep," you break the silence, slowly turning your head to face him, cheek smushed against the leather of the couch.

"Nah. Sleep is for the weak," he mumbles, turning his head to look at you. "Would you mind just, uh, staying here?" He awkwardly asks. "Please."

"No need to beg, Jason," you snicker. "I won't leave. I promise." He slightly flinches at your words. You don't question why; instead, you interlock your fingers tighter so he knows you aren't fibbing.

You get the feeling he's never really had anyone to take much care of him. So, you'll sit on the ugly brown leather couch you despise while the air conditioning turns on, sending shivers and goosebumps down your bare arm because everyone deserves to have somebody.

Even if that 'everyone' just so happens to be a stray vigilante with a massive ego.

a/n: posting this then running away (also still very new to dc so plz don’t be mean to me about the lore if it’s inaccurate)

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[cameronsprincess]

— summary: Rafe Cameron. Your toxic ex boyfriend who can’t seem to let you go. Even your best attempt at fighting him off, telling him no, he comes back. He won’t let you go.

— CW: 18+ only! toxic!ex bf!rafe, dark!rafe, violence, kidnapping, strong language, cocaine use, fingering, choking, marking, unprotected sex, breeding kink.

— a/n: this is a work of fiction. i do not condone anything written. this will all be in rafe’s pov. enjoy🖤

likes, comments and reblogs aren’t expected but are very appreciated <3

❥ toxic — r.c

I always knew something was wrong with me. It started when my mom died. My mind just went… Dark.

My life had started taking a really dark turn. And for a while, I could control my dark tendencies, I could control the darkness that ate away at my mind. But, the older I got, the harder it became to control that darkness inside me.

For as long as I could remember, my dad always hated me. He fucking hated me, and there was nothing I could do to change that. He only cared about Sarah, my younger sister. From the moment she was born, all of his love and attention went to her. Like she was something fucking special, like she hung the fucking moon. I was left to care for myself, pick myself back up when I fell. My dad still financially supported me, — even though he wished he didn’t have too — so at least I still had that going for me.

But he didn’t love me. No, he wished I had been a stain on the bedsheets, wished I had been wiped away with a fucking warm washcloth after the deed was done. But that wasn’t the case, obviously. I was born. And I was here. And he fucking hated that.

I stopped believing in love at a very young age. Fucked up, right? What kid doesn’t believe in love? What kid doesn’t believe that someone is capable of loving him? If you didn’t already know the answer to that, it’s me. At least, it was me.

The idea of loving someone and being loved crept back into my life when I was eighteen. When she came into my life. I loved her the best I knew how, which, wasn’t really saying anything. I didn’t know how to fucking love someone, so… I hurt her. I hurt her in every way possible…

… And when she finally walked away from me, telling me that she “deserved better”, I fucking lost it. I lost the only fucking person in this world who mattered to me. The only person who tried to love even the darkest parts of me. I fucking lost her.

But her walking away from me. From us. Wasn’t going to stop me. No, she was fucking mine. And I was going to get her back, even if I had to force my way back into her life, she would come back to me.

“Rafe, are you sure about this?” Topper asks, pulling me from my own mind.

I shake my head, dragging my eyes up to find Topper’s intense stare. His eyes narrow into small slits, eyebrows raising as he tries to read my face. I blink. Once. Twice. “What?” I ask, completely confused.

“Are you sure you wanna do this shit, man? Y/N will never fucking forgive you, and you know…”

“I don’t fucking care, Top! She’s mine, and she needs to be fucking reminded of that!” I snap. My fists are now balled up at my sides, chest heaving up and down and nostrils flared as thoughts of her begin to fill my mind.

Topper throws his hands up in surrender. “Whatever, bro. Not my problem.”

I smile, but it holds no amusement. No happiness. It’s a cold smile. “Exactly. Not your problem. Now cut that shit up, I need one more line before I head out.”

Topper sighs, but does as I ask. He leans forward, grabbing my black Amex off the glass table and begins cutting a new set of lines for the two of us. I chew at the skin around my thumb nail as I watch him create four perfectly straight lines out of the white powdery substance.

Once he finishes, I shove his shoulder to the side, allowing me access to the table. I snatch the already rolled hundred dollar bill off of the glass, rolling it a little tighter and placing one end to my right nostril. I lean forward, sticking the other end of the bill onto one of the four lines and snort the powder up into my nose. I quickly do my second line before tossing the bill back onto the table and falling back into the couch, squeezing my eyes shut and letting out a loud sigh. The drug burns my nose and throat, but the numbing sensation that comes from the cocaine quickly replaces that burn. My nose, throat, and tongue are numb, but my entire body feels like it’s on fire, a new surge of adrenaline pumping into my veins and making me ready to do what I must do tonight.

I stand from my spot on the couch, glancing down at Topper once more before heading for the door. His concerned voice stops me in my tracks. “I really hope you know what you’re doing, man. She’s going to hate you after tonight”

I snort. I don’t give a fuck if she hates me. She’s mine, and she needs to be reminded of that. She can’t hate me more than she already does. Or maybe she can, I don’t know. If I have anything to say about it though, she won’t hate me. No, she’ll love me again. I’ll make sure she loves me.

“Maybe. But she can’t hate me forever. She will love me again.”

I walk out the door, slamming it shut behind me before Topper can even open his mouth to ramble off anymore bullshit. I didn’t care to hear it. I didn’t care about his opinion. I was doing this.

I sit outside of her work. Watching. Waiting. I know she’ll be off any minute now, I used to pick her up every night when we were together. My girl doesn’t have a car, so I already know she’ll probably be leaving with one of her coworkers, but that won’t stray my plan. It’ll only make it more interesting. More fun.

My phone goes off in my pocket, letting me know I have a text. Pulling it out, I glare down at the words on the screen.

Ward: Where the fuck are you Rafe? Tonight was fucking important and you’re fucking everything up. I don’t even know why i’m surprised, you’re nothing but a walking fuck up.

I growl, angrily tossing my phone into the passenger side floorboard. Fuck my dad. And fuck the business deal that he so badly needed me at tonight. He doesn’t give a fuck about anything other than money and Sarah. So naturally, I’m putting what I want first. And what I want is Y/N. I don’t give a fuck about anything else.

The sound of her laughter filters in through my cracked window, making me sit up straight in my seat. One glance out the windshield and I see her. She looks as gorgeous as I remember. And her laugh, fuck, it has my cock growing in my pants, straining against the harsh fabric of my boxers and jeans. I adjust myself, and shake my head a few times. I need to focus. My eyes travel to the left of her. My fists automatically ball themselves by my sides when I see her walking and talking with Pope. I fucking hate that pogue. I hate all pogues. Except for her. She will always be the exception.

He stands too close to her for my liking, and it makes my blood boil. Tossing a part of my plan out the window, I shove my door open and march my way toward them. She’s in the middle of talking when Pope’s wide eyes have her audibly clamping her mouth shut.

“Pope, what is- Rafe.” She says softly, her breathing picking up now that I’m right in front of her.

“Baby girl.” I reply, a slow smile spreading across my face.

“Don’t- Don’t call me that, Rafe. We’re not together anymore.”

My jaw tightens at her words, nostrils flaring as I try and keep my composure. I don’t need to lash out just yet. I need to keep my calm, for now.

I ignore her and turn my attention toward Pope. “Heyward. Get the fuck out of here.” I say simply. It’s as simple as that. He can leave, or I can beat the shit out of him. The choice is his.

He glares at me, his eyes narrowed into slits and his breathing calm. Seems like the kid grew a pair of balls in the last thirty seconds. He opens his mouth to speak, but my fist connecting with his nose cuts off whatever bullshit he was about to say.

“Rafe! What the fuck?!” Y/N shouts, dropping to her knees and checking on the boy that’s now laid out on the ground, blood pouring from his probably broken nose.

“Get up, Y/N. We’re leaving”

Her neck snaps in my direction so fast, eyes narrowed. “I’m not fucking going anywhere with you! Fucking leave me alone, Rafe!”

I roll my neck from side to side before taking a step toward her. “You can either come with me willingly, or I can make you come with me. Your call, baby girl.”

The look in her eyes has me straining in my jeans. She’s so fucking sexy when she’s mad. She looks down at Pope, he’s groaning and holding his nose as blood continues to pour from it.

“Y/N! Now!” I shout. My patience is growing thin. And she’s not going to like it if I have to force her to come with me. I want her to make at least one choice on her own tonight.

She slowly stands, but Pope grabbing at her hand has her stopping halfway up. I fist my hands, ready to fucking hit him again if needed.

“Y/N… Don’t go with him…” Pope says softly. I chuckle at that. He thinks she has a choice in the matter. The only choice she has is to willingly come. And even now, I have a feeling she’s going to opt out of that choice.

She glances between him and me, and I can see the gears turning in her head. She’s thinking of running. Go for it, baby. I’ve planned for her running. As if she can read my thoughts, she yanks her hand from his grip and turns as fast as she can. She takes off running down the empty street, but I’m right on her heels.

“Keep running baby, you know I love it when you run!”

She looks behind her shoulder, a look of pure fear in her eyes. When she puts her focus back on what’s in front of her I pick up my speed. Once I’m directly behind her, I wrap my right arm around her waist and yank her back into my front. She begins kicking and screaming, her nails clawing into my arm. “Rafe! Put me down!” She shouts, and I just laugh.

“Baby girl, you know I can’t do that.”

I carry her back to my truck, opening the back door and tossing her inside. I jog around to the driver side, glancing over to where she and Pope walked out of and noticing he’s gone. Oh well. Not my problem. My dad will get me out of whatever he tries to throw my way. I climb inside the truck, locking the doors and bringing the engine to life. I glance into the back seat to find her sitting up right, and she’s seething. Anger flashes through her beautiful eyes, her chest is heaving up and down and nostrils flaring as she glares at me.

“Fuck you, Rafe! What the fuck do you want?!”

I smirk. “You.” I answer simply, and her eyes go wide.

It’s as simple as that. I want her. And she is going to want me again, even if it takes days, months, years. She will want me again.

“Rafe, put me the fuck down! I can fucking walk!” She shouts. Her small fists are pounding into my back. I have her tossed over my shoulder, walking up the stairs of the porch and into the front door of Tannyhill.

Once inside, I finally set her down on her feet and she scrambles away from me. I laugh, she thinks she can escape me, but she can’t. She never will. She’s mine to own. To fuck. To control. She’s mine.

“You know, it hurts my feelings how scared of me you are, baby girl.”

Her eyes narrow. “Are you fucking serious? You just basically kidnapped me, Rafe! You’re fucking insane!”

I let out a breathy laugh. “I am insane. But only for you. Because of you. I fucking love you, Y/N. Why can’t you see that?”

She scoffs. “You don’t love me. You want to fucking own me, like I’m your fucking property or some shit. I’m not! I’m a human fucking being, Rafe!”

I love the fight she has in her. I always have. Just not when she’s fighting me. Against me. She’ll learn soon enough that I am the scariest part of her life. I’m her biggest threat. But I will also protect her. She needs to be protected from everyone but me. She fucking needs me.

“This can go one of two ways, sweetheart. One. You can willingly come upstairs with me, and let me fuck that attitude out of you, let me remind you who the fuck you belong to. Or two. I can drag your ass up those stairs by your hair and remind you who the fuck you belong to. Either way, you’re going to be begging for my cock by the end of the night.”

I don’t miss how her nipples harden at my words. She still wants me. When she notices my eyes on her now hard nipples she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms across her chest, causing me to smirk in amusement and arch a brow.

“I don’t fucking belong to you, Rafe! God, you’re fucking crazy! Go to hell!”

A smile spreads across my face at her words. “Sweetheart, I am hell.”

Her breath hitches in her throat and her arms drop to her sides. I take a step toward her, causing her to take one back. I roll my eyes, taking one long step toward her and closing the distance between us. I wrap my right arm around her waist, pulling her flush into my body. I lean my head down, breathing in her intoxicating scent before my lips brush against the shell of her ear, I whisper, “You wanna do things my way? I’ll take you right here. Right now. Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. I’m not against letting anyone see me claim what’s mine.”

I feel her body tense in my hold, and it only makes my smile grow. She’s scared of me. But that’s expected. For now. After I’m done with her, she’ll be begging for more. She won’t want to let me go. She’ll be mine, just like I am hers.

“Rafe-” She breathes out, but I cut her off. I smash my lips against hers in a breathtaking, aggressive kiss. She involuntarily moans against my mouth, allowing me to force my tongue into her mouth. She melts into me, her body going slack in my hold as she allows my tongue to explore her mouth, brushing against hers. God I fucking missed her. The taste of her.

She snaps her eyes open, pushing me back, and I’m so fucking weak from the kiss that I don’t fight it. I stumble back a little before straightening myself. She has her eyes narrowed and her tiny fists balled at her sides.

“Fuck you, Rafe! Stop trying to get into my head! I- I fucking can’t keep doing this with you!”

She tries to make her way past me, but I grip the back of her neck. I pull her backward, angling her head up so her eyes are on mine. She tries to pull herself from my grip, but I tighten my hand on her neck, making her whine out in pain.

“Is my soul too dark for you, baby girl? What is it? Can you not love me for who I am?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but I release her neck, tossing her onto the ground in the process. She lands on her ass, her hands flying behind her to keep her upright. I slowly make my way toward her, letting out a deep exhale.

“You see, I tried to be better for you. But I can’t change who I am. Not for you. Not for anyone. But, one thing did change. You wanna know what that is?”

Her eyes begin to fill with tears, one slipping past her lower lashes. “W-What?”

“I learned how to love. How to accept love into my life. I love you, Y/N. And you left me. Left me like I didn’t mean anything to you. That should have been enough for me to let you go. You know? I’ve always been rejected. My own dad fucking hates me. I’ve never known love. But you. You came into my fucking life and wrecked everything. I fell in love with you, and I know you loved me. So I can’t just let that go. I fucking need you. And you need me. Even if you don’t want to admit it.”

I kneel in front of her, reaching my right hand out and running it down the side of her pretty face. She flinches back and I grip her cheeks between my fingers, squeezing tightly. “Now. Let me remind you of who the fuck you belong to.”

She whimpers, more tears spilling past her lower lashes. I lay her onto her back, crawling on top of her and caging her in with my arms. She doesn’t fight. Sobs rack her chest, and she rolls her head to the side, trying to avoid my stare. I press my hips into hers, groaning when my hard dick presses against her clothed pussy.

“You feel that, Y/N? That’s what you do to me. You own me. Are you going to let me own you?”

She rolls her head back toward me. Her bloodshot eyes and mascara stained cheeks make me groan. Fuck, I’m in love with this girl. Even if she’s terrified of me right now, I fucking need her.

I chuckle at her silence. My hands go to the hem of her work shirt, sliding it up and exposing her smooth stomach. I take my left hand and run my fingers over the expanse of her skin, pulling a shudder from her. “You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart. And you’re all mine.”

She chokes out a sob, squeezing her eyes shut as my fingers trail up her stomach and to the underside of her bra. I cup one of her breasts in my hand, firmly squeezing at it. She whimpers, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth to try and silence her cries of pleasure.

I slip her shirt up and over her head, leaving her in her pink lace bra. I snake my hand underneath her back, finding the clasps that hold the bra in place and pop them. My fingers find the straps, slowly sliding them down her arms and exposing her chest to me. Her nipples are hard, perfectly pointed peaks. My mouth waters, wanting to suck on them. I lean my head down, wrapping my lips around one of her nipples and sucking at it lightly before bringing it between my teeth and lightly biting. She moans loudly when I pull back with her nipple in my teeth. I let the pebbled bud fall from my mouth and smirk down at her.

“Are you wet f’me, sweetheart?”

She rolls her eyes. “No”

I chuckle. She’s lying. I know her better than she thinks I do. And I know she’s fucking lying. She’s ashamed. She doesn’t want to be wet for me, but she is.

I run my fingers down to the waistband of her jeans, popping the button on them and slowly pulling the zipper down. She squirms underneath my touch, trying to get away but I press my weight into her, keeping her pressed onto the cold tile of the entryway of Tannyhill.

I slide the rough fabric down her legs just enough to expose her matching pink thong. I bought her this set. And fuck, she looks good wearing it. I slide my hand between us again, running my hand up her inner thighs until I reach her clothed center. Even from here, I can feel how soaked she is. I slide her panties to the side, baring her cunt and running my index finger through her arousal slick folds.

“You’re right, you’re not wet. You’re fucking soaked, princess. Your body misses me.”

I shove my index finger inside of her soaked pussy, pulling a moan from her. I add another, curling them slightly and working them in and out of her slowly. I press my palm firmly against her clit as I continue to fuck my fingers in and out of her. The sounds her pussy makes while my fingers are buried inside her have me straining harshly against my jeans. She begins to roll her hips, fucking herself against my hand.

I bury my face into her neck, sinking my teeth into her flesh and sucking a bruise into her otherwise flawless skin. I release her skin, looking at the deep purple bruise that adorns her neck before I lick the bruise and up to her ear. I nip at the lobe of her ear before whispering, “That’s it baby, ride my hand. Good fucking girl”

She whimpers, her hips picking up the pace as she rides my fingers and hand. Her pussy clenches around my fingers, letting me know she’s close to her release. I quickly pull my fingers from her, and she whines at the loss.

“Don’t worry baby, you’ll cum. But it’ll be all over my cock. I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to fuck this pretty pussy, and you’re going to love it”

I push myself off of her and quickly kick my shoes off before pulling my shirt over my head. I work on my jeans next, pulling them and my boxers down in one swift motion. Her eyes go wide when she sees my throbbing cock, precum already leaking from the tip. I drop to my knees and pull her jeans down the rest of the way. I rip her thong from her hips, making her gasp in surprise. “Rafe, I liked those!” I smirk. I can buy her a thousand more where that came from.

Ignoring her anger over the flimsy fabric I ripped from her body, I place my left hand on the ground, baring my weight while grasping my hard cock in my right hand and line it with her weeping entrance. My blue eyes find hers. “Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t fucking want this, because if you don’t, I’m not sorry for what’s to come. I will fucking hurt you. I will not be gentle.”

She doesnt respond, and I take her silence as my okay. I shove myself inside her in one harsh push. I groan when my swollen head hits that spongey sweet spot inside of her and she gasps loudly. Her hands fly around my neck, nails digging into my shoulders. I stay still for a minute, needing to focus on not busting inside of her right now. I want to enjoy this. I want to fucking feel her wrapped around me for longer than a few fucking minutes, but she feels so fucking good. I feel like a teenage boy discovering women for the first time all over again.

“Fuck baby girl, so fucking right and wet. And all for me.” I rasp.

“Rafe… Please?” She begs.

“Please what, baby girl. Tell me what you want”

She whimpers and it makes my dick jerk inside her. “Please… Fuck me Rafe. I- I need you.”

I smirk. She admitted that she needs me. She fucking needs me.

I ignore the small victory for now and slowly pull myself from inside her, slamming myself back inside her warm cunt before she can even think of saying anything.

My hips find a pace, quick and harsh. I slam myself in and out of her. Her sweat slick body slides on the tile, and I wrap and arm around her waist, keeping her in place. I still myself inside her, quickly grabbing her right leg and placing it around my hips, allowing me better access to her pussy. I begin pounding my hips into hers again, pulling the sweetest moans from her lips.

“Tell me you’re fucking mine. Tell me you won’t ever fucking leave me again.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing but whines and moans come out. I slow my hips, completely stilling myself inside her once more. My right hand wraps around her throat, squeezing and cutting off her air. Her wide, tear filled eyes stare up at me. “Fucking say it! Tell me you fucking need me! Tell me you fucking love me!”

She tries to speak, but my grip on her throat tightened, making her beautiful face turn a bright shade of red. Her lips begin to turn blue and I release her neck. She sucks in a deep breath of air, gasping as tears pour from her eyes.

“Tell me baby. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I-I’m yours, Rafe. Only yours. I need you. I love you. I’ll never leave you again.”

I smile at her words. They make a warmth flood through my body. A warmth i’ve only ever felt with her. She may be lying for her own pleasure right now, but she will love me again, and she will mean it.

Satisfied with her answer I begin thrusting into her again, slow and sensual thrusts that have her softly moaning. I dip my head down, burying it into her neck again. I sink my teeth into her shoulder, biting on the skin harshly before moving to the other side and repeating the action. She will be completely marked by me by the end of the night. Reminders of this night, reminders of who she belongs to marked into her skin.

Her pussy clenches around me, tightly gripping at my cock and sucking me in deeper. I groan, my lips kissing over all the bruises and teeth marks i’ve left on her skin. “Come f’me, princess. Come all over my cock, s’kay. Let me have it”

She whimpers, her pussy pulsing and body stiffening as her release rushes through her. Her body shakes, tears spill from her eyes as she screams my name. I smash my lips with hers, silencing her cries. Our tongues clash together, heavy breathing and the sounds of our skin slapping bounce off the walls. I break the kiss, my eyes finding hers. “I’m gonna cum inside this pretty pussy baby. I wanna see you swollen with my child. Do you want that? You can’t escape me if you’re pregnant with my child.”

She whines, squeezing her eyes shut as she nears another orgasm. I feel her pussy clench around me again, squeezing me tightly like it’s trying to milk me for every last drop of my cum.

My hips stutter, dick twitching inside her warm and wet cunt as I explode deep inside her pussy. “That’s it baby, take it all. I wanna see you pregnant with my baby. You’re mine. Forever”

I push deep inside her one more time, shoving my cum deep into her abused cunt before I slowly pull myself out. I fall to the floor beside her, rolling onto my side and kissing her sweat slick forehead. “All mine baby. You’re never leaving me again.”

rafe cameron masterlist | taglist form

[jockfootstories]

Joe felt his buddies boots rest on both of his shoulders as he watched his other two friends game. His friend DJ, sitting behind him, was a bit on the cocky side, and would off and on foot tease him. Joe went along with it as he had a foot fetish but kept it hidden and was confused if DJ had picked up on it as this was his normal disposition. He had seen DJ mess with his other friends with his feet but Joe tried to be more open to the teasing without trying to give himself away. He saw one cowboy boot tilt inward, it now pulling back some so the top pressed against his nose and mouth. “Kiss my boot,” DJ said from behind and started tilting his other boot inward. Joe kind’ve dodged the country boy’s boots some and quietly said,”DJ…. I can smell your feet inside your boots.” The boots in front of him pulled toward him more diligently and Joe fell backwards onto the floor. He instantly tried to sit up but DJ held him down with both feet pinned on his shoulders. Joe saw his friend lean over, smirking down at him, and said,”What’s that Joey? You wanna see how my feet smell?”  I bolt of fear shot through him as Joe instantly said,”No, that’s not what I said.” He squirmed some more but DJ applied more pressure, now wiggling his foot out of one boot, exposing his bare foot. He watched his friend up end his boot and lower the opening over his nose. Joe took a huge inhale, the warm foot/sweat smell filing his lungs as he moved his face back and forth, acting like he was trying to escape. He heard his other friend Hunter say,”Damn DJ, your feet stink. What are you doing?” Joe realizing that his other friend was watching, he amped up his attempt to sit up, and pushed the boot away from his face.  DJ responded half laughing,” Joe wants to smell my feet so I’m seeing how long he can last.”   “I didn’t say that. I said…,” Joe quickly responded, trying to sit up, but was cut off. DJ thrusted him saying,“Shut up and smell,” DJ said, smooshing the bottom of his bare foot onto Joe’s face. “Want your other boot off?,” Hunter asked. Without response Hunter came over, replaced his foot on Joe’s arm, and tugged the boot off of his friend’s foot. He placed the boot on Joe’s chest as Joe croaked out ‘No’ seeing both bare feet descend quickly upon his face. His vision went to darkness as the warm, padded soles cushioned against on him. The feet kept him down, now rubbing against his face, as he heard DJ say, ”Snifff em!”  Hunter snickered, lifting one foot up, nudging Joe’s chest, and added,“Enjoy DJ’s foot smell down there Joe?”  Their other friend Nathan called back to Hunter and Hunter went back to the game. Joe tried to lift himself up a few more times, trying to covertly adjust his crotch , as he struggled. DJ continued working his face under his feet, now scrunching his toes over his nostrils to make him breathe under them. Joe grunted out some but took in a deep inhale, his friend’s foot odor now making him extremely weak. “Oh yah. Like the smell of my boots and feet huh?,”  After 15 or so minutes, DJ removed his soles, and Joe saw Hunter standing over him grinning. He watched Hunter lift his socked foot up and saw it press down onto his face. Joe muffled out a sound but let Hunter rub his foot and toes against his nose as he sniffed in. “Since your face already smell’s like DJ’s feet, you might as well smell mine too.” Both of them verbally teased him for a few minutes, commenting he should be the designated foot rest between games. DJ defiantly getting behind that idea with Joe wondering if he knew about his foot fetish.

[okwonyo]

（ 标题 ） GOODLOOKING AND BEYOND.

PREC𝒾S ⠀⟡​⠀​you take your time to admire the view.

( 엔하이픈 제이크 ) ୨୧ f .. r 700 fluff established relationship ── kissing skinship ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ recue𝒾l

no view ever witnessed was and will ever be more beautiful that the one in front of your eyes.

you firmly believe it. the niagara waterfalls or the aurora borealis have nothing on the beautiful view before your eyes.

your heart beat faster as your gaze drags from the edge of your boyfriend’s nose, sliding on his bridge, coming back and forth— enough times that you would be able to redraw it from memory if you were asked to.

if you were to tell the truth, you would say that you are able to recognize his side profile even if you lost your sight.

you are not able to count how many times you stared at jake like that. in that exact position you are in: laying in bed, you settled yourself on your side for a more comfortable view, his arm under your head as his back rests on the mattress, his eyes closed.

his chest rises and falls gently as he acts like he is asleep— silently fighting the urge to not blush. his breath is quietly heard, escaping from his nostrils, beautifully wrapped around his nose.

you blink a few times. you wonder how anyone can have that pretty of a side profile. and ponder about how anyone could be so normal about looking like this every day.

you scoot closer to him. just so your mouth brushes against his skin. your hand holds the cheek of his that is not facing you, turning his face to yours.

his nose touches yours, bump into it even. his soft breath lands on your lips as he opens his mouth slightly— waiting, wanting.

you kiss. it’s not necessarily long or passionate. but it’s warm, soft and just good. like the feeling of freshly made bread melting on your tongue. simple and enough to make all your muscles relax. enough to make him smile against your mouth, ruining his fake sleeping act.

you eye flutter open, “i love your nose,” you whisper, for the ninth this week.

jake delicately get out of your grip. he removes his arm under your head to rest his weight on a single elbow.

you have seen the look on his face too many times to not know what is coming next. you can feel the blood rush creeping on his face as well as the knot made of so many words he wants to say at the same time.

a smile forms on his face as well as a pink hue does on his cheek, as well as the knot undoes itself in a soft, “i love you.”

as well as your voice melts into his, a murmured, “i love you too.”

then here comes his iris dilating in a slow motion, like cherry blossoms falling on the spring’s ground. the look of love.

all it takes is a smile from you for him to come hide his nose in the crook if your neck. right where it belongs. right where you can feel the shyness emanating from his body.

even after all those years, his knees get weak at the sight of your smile. he would have fell to the on them if he wasn’t in bed with you right now.

your fingers find his hair without you even realizing. you position yourself on the back and jake follows through, practically laying on top of you.

after a while, you speak up. “i miss you,”

he doesn’t need an explanation to understand what you mean, “i miss you too,” he immediately mumbles back against your skin. “but i love your scent.”

you hum. then immediately argue, “but i want to see your face.”

and he complies. setting himself back in front of you, with a small pout still. this time, you both face each other. not saying anything, just staring at one another without any intention to do anything else.

he is really beautiful. you have to fight yourself to not say it out loud— not necessarily wanting to make him shy again or receive a kiss. you just want to stare at him, he seems to want to do the same.

both of your giggles resonate in the quiet room.

𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open !

(..◜ᴗ◝..) this was rather short, but this idea have been eating my brain for a while. i hope your week is going well so far, thank you for reading this— luck is on your side 💌

[ariseur]

ok i saw you wanted some requests so im here to give you an idea!! im really angst about gojo right now and i need an angst fic. (spoilers for the manga)

ok so: gojo x reader but readers cursed technique is to be able to see into the future (but they can’t do anything about it or talk about it) and they get a vision of the gojo vs. sukuna fight and what happens. they get all upset about it and cling to gojo, trying to get him not to go. (established relationship pls🙏🏻)

sorry for the drabble, i’ve been aching for someone to write this haha

HOLD ME ( TIGHTER THAN YOU EVER WILL ) - SATORU GOJO

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ notes - i’m not gonna lie anon, i just finished the manga and i fell to my knees when i saw this request. ilysm for this but you are EVIL ( kiss me rn thank you for providing me with this angst )

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ warnings - spoilers for jujutsu kaisen manga chpts 222 - 236, character death ( canon ), weirdly descriptive mentions of you choking back words ( like that feeling you get when you’re trying not to cry and it feels like there’s barbed wire in your throat😭 ), gojo calls you “my girl” twice so fem!reader in mind when writing this, i didn’t really describe it as much of a technique i mainly kept it like you were seeing visions since i didn’t know how to correlate the ct i’m sorry!!, intended lowercase, hope you guys enjoy 😚💕!!

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ word count - 1654 words, 9068 characterss

“satoru.”

gojo turned around, his footsteps coming to a halt down the hallway of the infirmary. his face tipped towards you, cocking a bit as he let out a low hum of question.

upon seeing his face, your stomach clenched; a deep regret swirling in your abdomen. with a look at his face, your bottom lip quivered with furrowed brows. he stood there, trying to decipher your expression as he awaited an answer. his eyes, narrowed with confidence stood out on display rather than shielded from his blindfold. there was nothing left to hide now, not his strength and not his arrogance. you remembered how you had always begged him to take it off at least once, just so you could see his pretty eyes.

and now looking back retrospectively, it didn’t matter. those visions you saw, how real they felt. they couldn’t have been dreams, they always haunted you as they showed up everywhere. your eyes fell to satoru’s pink lips, pressed together in confusion before another thought intruded your head — another sight to behold as you felt like gagging upon remembering his bruised face, the blood spouting out from his mouth tainting his lips.

“i just,” you swallowed thickly, “i don’t think it’s a good idea to do this just yet.”

he sighed, giving one shake of his head before he stepped forward towards you. your head hung low, your words choked at the back of your throat as they threatened to escape their enclosure behind your uvula. “megumi’s in danger, people are watchin’ — i can’t postpone it, baby, you know that.” his hand placed itself on your shoulder, softly rubbing against the fabric of your shirt where the seams met.

“i’m not saying that— i just mean,” you closed your eyes, letting out a quiet, shaky breath. you recalled the conversation that happened not too long ago, back with ijichi and shoko. lamenting with all the memories back in your youth, along with reminiscing over everything that’s happened. shibuya, megumi’s possession, okkotsu’s return. everybody who’s died, it haunted you like no other knowing there was nothing you could do to prevent it; kugisaki, nanami, all those lives dealt a bad hand at their dreadful end. even yuuji itadori, someone so young being used so carelessly.

“damn, so it’s just the four of us left.” gojo’s voice had echoed throughout the room of your previous conversation. your head tipping back against the cold lockers as you stood in the corner, the scent of tobacco wafting in the air and seeping in through your nostrils from shoko’s cigarette whilst she stood not even a few feet away from you.

“well, there’s still also that idiot.” she huffed, transparent smoke slipping out in thin shapes from past her lips.

being around her for so long, the smell became indelible in your brain, your senses immediately causing you to retrace back to ieiri’s bad habit. even now, as you stood in front of your beloved — even as his distant musk flew up to your head as it had just barely intoxicated you, the smell of cigarettes and menthol was still unforgettable. you remembered the scratch in your throat as you hummed in agreement, your voice uneasy and raspy from misuse as gojo looked back up at shoko. “. . that’s true.”

eyes fluttering closed, you let out a small huff as you heard ijichi debriefing about something related to nanami, not that you could pay attention anyways. the voices and the images and the downright fuckery that went on in your brain was too loud for you to focus on anything else, including satoru’s face right in front of yours as you stopped recalling the transpired events as your head bowed down even further.

“look at me,” you heard him say. he gave your shoulders a gentle shake as his hand snaked up from your arm to your chin, trying to redirect your attention back to him no matter how much your head resisted. “where’s my girl at? don’t be shy, jus’ talk to me.”

your eyebrows crinkled as they met in the middle, the slight bit of skin creasing at contact when you finally looked up at him. his lashes ridged around his upper eyelids, pupils gazing ever so delicately as they softened at the sight of you. his thumb turned to face vertically, grazing your lip as he cocked his head; and then, he smiled. what once was so comforting long ago, where you two would spend mornings lazing around in bed as you’d forget about the first years, forget about yaga, forget about responsibilities. it was like you were in that high school bliss again, unable to care about anything more than the person right in front of you — even if they were drooling all over your arm. his smile, canines on display, only made you feel sicker about what you knew.

he pulled you into his chest slowly ( giving you enough time to thrash out of his embrace and tell him to knock it off, even if it’d hurt his pride a bit ) and as he rested his chin on you, he mumbled against your ear, “you can cry it out, you know.”

“‘m not crying.” you smacked his shoulder, pulling away as you sniffled — an obviously very convincing sign of totally not getting upset.

he snorted, “okay ma’am, don’t need the attitude — i’m just saying you can if you needed to.” he kept you at an arms length before he tilted your chin up again, causing you to roll your eyes and give him a sharp huff.

“gojo—!” you heard from around the corner. a high, stern voice interrupting the small bickering back and forth between you two. his hand faltered on your face, his thumb no longer brushing your cheek as your body tilted to the side only to find utahime walking in your line of sight. her eyebrows raised at the two of you, her mouth quirking to the side in shock as she sputtered, “not to ruin the moment but,” she shrugged slightly; a way of telling you indirectly, ‘it’s time.’

“few more minutes ‘hime, and i’ll be out.” he called out singsonging along as she walked away.

“don’t call me that,” she repeated in the same cadence, her voice collecting more distance the further she retreated — allowing you guys to have a moment before they prepare to go out.

satoru turned back towards you, his smirk growing wider as you looked away, your hand grabbing the one glued to your faced as you savored the warmth in between his fingers. “ah, there she is,” he teased, “my girl.”

“‘toru?”

he hummed, his hands squeezing yours. your eyes zipped up to his. “please,” you pouted at him, “be careful, yeah?”

he laughed as he shook his head in amusement. taking a few steps back, he extended both of your arms before ceremoniously letting go. “i think it’ll be okay — i am the strongest, after all,” gojo chuckled.

you managed a meager, bittersweet smile as you let out a wry laugh. no matter what kind of sounds left your lips, he always relished in them knowing only he could pull them out of you. whether it’s a small laugh, a full on abundance of giggles, whimpers along with your squirming about that he’d always tease you for; satoru never failed to appreciate them. even your groans of discomfort when he’d piss you off, all it took was some sweet talking and a trail of kisses along your jaw and he’d bounce back all sunshine and rainbows.

it wasn’t your voice or your body ( although those were major bonuses, might he have added ), and it wasn’t even the way you’d purse your lips to stop an embarrassed smile from painting itself on your face whenever he would make a stupid joke ( another thing he had loved about you ) — it was the fact that you saw him. he wasn’t the strongest when he was with you — he was ‘toru, only satoru.

he began to walk away, his shoes tapping against the hard floors as you watched his white robe flow behind him. you swallowed back a small whine at the back of your throat as you watched him leave; his hand about to slide the double doors open until you called for him once more. “satoru—?”

“huh?” he let out an airy laugh, mixed in with the syllable.

you put a hand on your hip, swallowing to try and moisten your dry throat. you let out an awkward laugh, “i love you — so much.”

gojo put a hand to his mouth before sending it off with you as he blew you a dramatic air kiss. “i love you, always.”

and with that, he turned away; the door sliding open with a satisfying sound before it closed behind him. left alone, with your thoughts only growing louder. you couldn’t help but scrunch your eyes shut, your hand clutching your head as your fingers buried themselves under your hair.

behind that door, gojo stood as he took a deep breath. he had burned your face into his memory, his brain fading back into images of your eyes — so piercing, always searching into his own, whether that was for the better or worst remained unknown in both his and your mind. as always, you had come, you had seen, and you had loved.

as he walked out to where utahime and gakuganji were waiting, he couldn’t help but think about you. satoru gojo could be held down by anybody, with all of their might — and be stabbed with sharpest of swords and the strongest of curses, but he’d never stop loving you. because you had never stopped loving him. satoru gojo had never stopped being seen by you; for he wasn’t the strongest, merely satoru.

𐙚 taglist ; @seternic @sad-darksoul

𐙚 requests are open — june twenty second, 2024

[zxvmp]

DTF? (Denki x Fem!Reader)

summary: it’s the weekend, so you and your classmates decide to celebrate your off days partying. where would be a better place to party than the club? What you didn’t think would happen was hooking up with Kaminari.

tags: alcohol, underage drinking, smut, improper quirk usage, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys), vaginal sex, roughness, skin marking

a/n: not proof read, so sorry for any errors 😩

You scrambled through your dresser drawers looking for an outfit. If you were going out with your classmates, you wanted to look extra good. There weren’t many opportunities for you to dress up and look good, so you wanted to take advantage of this opportunity.

It was Mina’s idea to sneak out when Aizawa fell asleep. The club was your idea. It took a bunch of convincing Yaoyarozu to create fake ID’s for everyone. Not to mention getting Ida to not snitch. He agreed to be on watch out for you all in case Aizawa got up.

The plan was perfect.

You pulled out a short, skimpy bright red dress that looked like a stripper would wear. It shocked you that you even owned such a thing. You thought it was a bit too much, but you really didn’t have anything else. Plus, you were sure the other girls would wear similar things.

Once the hallways started to silence, you took the time to get ready and patiently wait for a text message. You wore your hair down with a slight curls at the ends. Your makeup was subtle, just mascara, blush, and lipgloss.

As your phone buzzed on your nightstand, you applied your finishing touches and checked your phone.

Mina 🩷

alr guyss

we’re in the clear! 😍

meet up in the front quickly!! (1:02 a.m.)

Kirishima 🪨

awesome 😎

i’m so pumped

Mineta 😐

me too 🤤

*Jirou, You, Yaoyarozu, Uraraka, & others disliked Minetas message*

You slid on white high-top converse and quietly opened your door. Since you didn’t own any heels, your converse were just going to have to do. Plus, you didn’t want to deal with sore ankles the next day.

The walk down to the front doors was difficult. Mostly because everyone was containing their laughter from trying to be quiet. It didn’t help that Denki accidentally tripped down the stairs, causing a loud bang to roar throughout the staircase.

Once you all made it to the front, Denki used small voltages to disable to cameras set up. After all of the cameras were disabled, you booked it towards the front gates where multiple taxis were parked. You made a mental note to thank Yaoyarozu for paying for them.

You ended up jn a taxi with Denki, Mina, and Kirishima. The four of you were known as the planners for party situations. It was a tight squeeze in the backseat, but you all managed. You were in between Mina and Denki.

To help pass time, you played mini games on your phone. As you played your games, you noticed you forgot to charge your phone. You let out a sad sigh and disregarded the low battery notification.

Denki heard your sigh and turned his head to notice your low battery. “I got you.” He pointed a finger at your phone and used his quirk to charge your phone.

You gave him a smile, “Thanks.”

He nodded and turned his head to continue talking to Kirishima. However, your eyes were left lingering on him. He wore a black dressed shirt that was slightly unbuttoned with a gold chain. For pants, he wore black baggy jeans. An all-black combo. His cologne entered your nostrils which made you start to realize how attractive Denki actually was. You knew he was hot, but tonight he looked better than usual.

Seeing him now really set something off in you.

“Whatcha lookin at?” Mina whispered, nudging you playfully.

You bit back a smile and nudged her back, “Stop.”

Mina giggled, “C’mon just say it’s already! You think he’s hot.”

Just before you could raise your hand to silence her, Kirishima caught your attention.

“Yo, we’re here!” Kirishima excitedly hopped out the car. Denki gave you a quick glance before hopping out shortly after.

You looked back at Mina and she raised and dropped her eyebrows playfully, making you roll your eyes.

As you scooted towards the door of the car, Denki stood outside with his hand out. You paused before taking his hand.

“What’s up with all these kind gestures? You’re usually always finding a way to annoy me.”

Denki laughed, “Who says i’m still not finding ways?”

You let out a small yelp and jolted at the sudden feeling of a shock. “Ow!”

While Denki was in a laughing state, you took your chance to activate your quirk. You raised your hand and summoned a water hand to follow your action. A loud slapping sound echoed throughout the crowd, causing some people to turn back and look at the two of you.

“OW! Mine did NOT hurt that much.” Denki rubbed his cheek and wiped a tear that formed in his eye.

You snickered, “C’mon, half of them already made it in.”

~

Loud music played throughout the club. You were already five shots in of the 10 minutes of being there.

“Damn (Y/N), you do this often?” Kirishima watched as you downed a shot, amazed at how you were in the lead.

You, Denki, Mina, Kirishima, Bakugo, and Yaoyarozu were all in a drinking competition. At first, it started off with the whole class. But after three shots, multiple people tapped out.

“Nope, maybe you guys are just lightweight.” You wink, finishing another shot. In truth, you really didn’t know how you were managing multiple shots.

Bakugo snatched the shot you were reaching for before you could grab it, “Shut you damn weirdo, I won’t allow you to beat me.”

You giggled, “Alright tough guy, I was about to tap out anyways.”

And thank god you did. While you watched the others compete to drink, it all hit you. You were cheering on Denki as it happened. In one blink, your vision became slower and you could feel your body become fuzzy.

“Damn, you guys look fucked up.” Mina laughed, nudging Kirishima to look.

“How many did you guys take?!” Kirishima burst out laughing.

You looked over at Denki and noticed his eyes were half-lidded and a drunk smirk was plastered on his lips. The two of you help eye contact before he broke it.

“Wayyy more than you.”

You giggled, “Yeah!”

“Whatever, i’m gonna go find someone to dance with.” Mina got up and disappeared into the large crowd of people.

You decided dancing was a good idea and began dragging Denki into the crowd without a thought. Flashing lights were displayed everywhere and you could feel strangers brush up against you every other second.

“Awe you wanna dance with me?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I’m bored.”

At first, it started with the two of you singing your heart out to a justin beiber song. Mina probably managed to sneak in a song request because you knew it was her favorite song. Then, as the music began to drift off to other songs, you found yourself dancing against Denki.

His hands were rested on your hips while your back was against his stomach. You felt so free and loose drunk. It was amazing. Not to mention the rush of excitement you felt whenever you’d occasionally grind your ass against Denkis crotch. You could tell he enjoyed it from the way his grip on your hips would change.

You felt goosebumps form on your neck when you felt Denki kneel down to your level to rest his head on your shoulder. You turned your head slightly and caught his eyes.

In that moment, it was like everything around you was a blur. It was only you and Denki. His eyes traveled from your eyes to your lips. You felt the urge to kiss him. He must’ve felt the same thing, because he beat you to it.

His lips were on yours in an instant. You gasped into the kiss when you felt his hands slowly move around your body. The kiss escalated quickly. You turned around to wrap your arms around his neck for a better angle.

After a while, you both pulled away to catch your breath. You stared up into his yellow eyes admiring his handsome face. Behind his half-lidded eyes, you could tell his gaze was filled with lust. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t aroused either.

A smirk formed on your lips, “Down to fuck?”

~

It was a risky gamble. As everyone began to head back to their dorm rooms, you managed to sneak into Denki’s unnoticed.

The second the two of you reached his room, your hands were all over each other. A trail of clothes and shoes were led up to his bed. Soft moans escaped your mouth as his mouth attacked your skin. One of his hands were placed beside your head while the other was slowly making its way down your thighs.

You gripped his forearm when you felt his middle finger run down your slit. His smirk deepens and you could he was enjoying every moment of this. He loved the way your facial expressions changed with each touch. It’s like he knew your weaknesses.

“Had a feeling you liked me.” He inserted his ring and middle finger, making you whine, “Tell me i’m wrong.”

“What…?” You breathe out. Your mind was focused on the way his fingers were plunging in and out of you. The alcohol in your system made you sensitive to any and every touch.

“C’mon, you don’t think I tease you all the time just for fun? I do it because I know you like it.” His pace increased, “I mean, when I didn’t hear you deny Mina, it all started to piece together.”

You were at a loss for words. You’d have to kill Mina later for her loud mouth.

“If you knew, why are you trying to get it out of me n-now?” You words were mushing together from the sensations you were feeling. Denkis fingers were curling up into you at a perfect angle.

He giggled, “I dunno, just wanted to hear it from you.”

Before you could say anything else, you were cut off by the waves of electricity coursing throughout your body. Denki placed his thumb on your clit and used his quirk to stimulate you more. You never thought such a feeling could make you feel so good.

A loud moan echoed in his room and you felt a knot form in your stomach. Through your blurred vision, you could see that Denki was in awe.

“Fuck..”

His lips crashed onto yours and you could feel another shock jolt your body. With a final thrust of his fingers, you came undone. Your release coated his fingers and you were almost embarrassed at the sight.

“Think you can take some more, pretty girl?” Denki brought his fingers up to his mouth to lick them clean.

Watching him do so sparked something in your body you never thought would. You nodded your head to his question as you calmed down from your high.

Denki had a pretty good size for a dick, much bigger than you imagined. Watching him slide in was definitely the highlight of your night. Both of you groaned in unison once he was fully in. You felt so full.

You threw your head back and closed your eyes once he began to thrust. He started of slow so the two of you could adjust to the euphoric feeling.

“Fuck—Denki, keep going.” You muttered in between quick breaths. He felt so good inside of you. It was a perfect fit.

He let in a sharp inhale when you clenched around him, “Whatever you say, angel.”

His nicknames made your heart swoon. Once his pace picked up, you clutched the bedsheets beneath you. The grip his hands had on your hips was brutal and sure to leave markings in the morning, but you didn’t care. Not when you felt like that.

Your breaths started to become erratic, and you could tell from the way his thrust started to become sloppy, he was close.

“Denki-”

He groaned, “Yes?”

“After this, what are we?”

He smiled and planted a kiss on your forehead, “Whatever you want us to be.”

You smiled and hooked your arms around his neck to bring him into a kiss. Denki brought a hand up to your cheek and traced circles with his thumb. You turned into mush under his touch. He was truly your weakness, and you were totally okay with that.

“Tell me if it’s too much, mkay?”

You nodded and unhooked your arms from his neck. His hands returned to your hips and you felt his pace pick up again. However, his thumb began to circle your clit with his quirk playing a role, sending you over the edge. You were a moaning mess.

The voltage of electricity had you seeing stars and feeling things you didn’t think you could ever achieve. No man has ever made you feel that way.

Nothing but moans and broken cries came out your mouth. Denki was enjoying every second of it. Hell, if he could hear you and watch you crumble like this everyday he’d do it in a heartbeat.

Without warning, your body began to spasm and an intense orgasm took over your body. Denki continued to thrust into you, chasing his own high.

“Ah—Denki!”

“I know babe, just give me a couple more seconds.”

Your mind went blank and your ears began to ring. After a couple minutes, you began to snap back to reality. Your eyes traveled down to see Denki cleaning your stomach with a T-shirt. You mentally thanked him for not finishing inside of you.

You snickered.

“What? It’s all I had.”

“Thank you, now let’s sleep. I’m exhausted.”

He tossed the dirty T-shirt to the side and crawled up next to you. You pulled a blanket over your bodies and slowly drifted off to sleep. You had a lot to discuss in the morning.

[macfrog]

if i had a gun cowboy like me chapter 12.5 (joel's pov)

long-awaited, pain-packed, and sealed with a bow by yours truly. i love y'all. thank you for being so patient and kind with me on this one. this chapter is joel's experience of the end of illicit affairs and all of hits different. you might wanna check those chapters out before you indulge in the angst-fest that is this one. hope you enjoy 🧡

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: walk a mile in joel miller's shoes. see if you'd do anything different

warnings: more heartache, more angst, lois, alcohol + drug consumption, mention of reader being roofied, very brief mention of joel punching knox, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing

word count: 9.8k

terrible news! there is no more taglist! make sure you're following @macfroglets w notifs on if you wanna be buzzed when i post 🤍

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“Right. Sorry. It’s just…we kinda have a…situation, here.” It’s you. He fucking knows it’s you. His heart begins to hammer. He doesn’t give a fuck whether she puts two and two together or not when he asks – “Where is she?” “We’re still at Frank’s,” Anna says, sniffing. He can hear the booming bassline of music, muffled; the sharper chatter of voices. She’s on the street. In his head, he can see her shoulders hunched; her bare arms wrapped around her body for warmth. She goes to say it again. “We’re still at –” “’n where is she?” Joel cuts, and she finally cracks.

You’re still fast asleep when he lifts his head.

You’ve had this argument plenty before. I do not snore. Yes, baby, you do. I’ve heard you. I don’t! It’s alright, it’s okay that you do. It’s a cute snore. Joel, I don’t fucking –

Right now, he’s pretty certain you’re snoring. He just wishes you were awake to hear yourself.

He thinks about pulling his phone, taking a video so that once you’re up, you can hear the little bursts of air, the tiny rasps from your nostrils as you snooze. But if he ever did record anything like that – just like the Hillcrest pictures, until you’d found them last night – he’d keep it for himself. Wouldn’t offer it up so easily.

Just something for him to have, for all the time he spends without you.

Your hair’s still all over the place. Tangled in Joel’s right arm, still smelling of chlorine and sex. Your head rests softly on the crook of his elbow like it’s a pillow; your lips and eyes are puffy, tired. You have this ridiculously strong vice grip on his left arm; during the night he felt you wrap your wrists around it and pull it into your chest, tucking it gently under your chin until your entire upper half was drowned in his.

His chest snug against your back, his arms encasing you safely, and his hips…his hips lined with yours. His now semi-hard cock buried between your legs – he’d slept inside you last night, and it was like, after forty-eight years, someone finally took him by the shoulders and said: This is how you do it. This is how you rest.

He was out as soon as his head hit the pillow, soon as his eyes fell shut. He stirred only to feel you maneuvering his arm, and then fell straight back asleep.

He felt comfortable. He felt safe. Big, old, tough guy Joel Miller. Never let anybody in since Sarah’s mom left. Alone for almost seventeen years, and fine with it. His cheeks heat at the idea of needing – of wanting to feel that. Safe. But then you came along, and he realized he’d been waiting his whole life to feel it. Didn’t even notice he’d been missing it.

That’s how these things go, right? Can’t miss what you don’t have, and all that.

But now he has it. Now he has you.

And you make him feel things he’s never felt before, or if he has, it was so fucking long ago that he’s forgotten. You drive him fucking insane. Keep him up at night, wondering what the hell he’s gotten himself into. Make him do stuff that his reflection glares at him over. Are you being serious right now? Make him…different. New.

The night before last, when he’d picked you up from Frank’s after rodeo night, he promised to make you a big breakfast in the morning. Compensation for not swinging by McDonald’s on the way home. But then your dad called, and you had to take off before Joel had even properly woken up.

When he eventually rose from the bed, he went straight to the store. Stocked up on eggs, flour, sugar, bananas. He’d printed a recipe from his computer while you were gone. Marked the items off as he meandered through the store. Stood for ten minutes deliberating over which gluten-free flour would be best, before an assistant asked if he needed any help.

I’m good, he muttered, and then, as the kid wandered off, cleared his throat and said, Actually –

Greg – the kid assistant in question – had suggested the red bag. Said it’s corn flour, instead of wheat. Joel can’t pronounce the brand name. He just knows it’s tucked behind a box of cereal in the cupboard downstairs – he hid it there so you wouldn’t find it and snuff out his plan.

His plan, which he now has to put into action. Without waking you. He’d lie here forever just staring at you, if he hadn’t sworn to himself to make good on his promise and cook you some damn pancakes.

So he slowly pulls his left hand from between yours, loosening your death grip, and steals it back across your waist. He does the same for his right arm – more careful, though, so he doesn’t tug on your hair. Like some kind of wild cat creeping through the jungle, every moment calculated and careful.

He bunches the comforter up a little at your back, so that if you do stir, it might feel like he’s still there. Still a weight, curving around you. He takes a good five minutes just to travel the length of the room – the lightest he’s ever walked, dodging the spots on the carpet that he knows make the floorboards squeal.

When the door gently clicks back into place, he heads downstairs. Cracks out his frying pan – non-stick, obviously – and all his ingredients, pulls the printed recipe from its hiding place between two cookbooks and lays it out on the counter, flattening the creases and unfolding the corners. And gets to it.

His first egg cracks messily over the lip of the bowl. The yolk runs down the outside, and he curses before swiping it back up with his index finger. The second egg empties fully inside the bowl, but drags with it tiny fragments of shell. Joel spends five minutes focusing on picking every single piece out of the mixture. He crouches to make sure he’s poured the exact amount of milk, eyes level with the top of the liquid, and he double checks every step before he follows it.

This has to be perfect. Has to be. For you.

The entire time, all he can think about is you asking to sleep with his body inside yours. Wanting him closer than you’d ever wanted him before, as close as he could physically be. Your sleepy voice circles between his ears on loop – want somethin’ else. That safe feeling creeps up on him all over again.

He knows he shouldn’t. He can’t. He’s spent the last month purposefully pushing those feelings down, dampening them anytime they rose to the surface. Only allowing himself to feel them, to acknowledge them, when you’re around. Because he can’t fucking help but acknowledge them when you’re here – they stare him straight in the face.

So he’d been making peace with letting the floodgates open just a little bit at a time – one quick rush whenever you’d give him one of your meaningful glances, when your hot skin would brush against his, when your mouth would fall open at the feeling of his first deep thrust inside you.

And then he’d bolt them back up.

Except that, now…he’s not sure the dam can hold much longer. There are cracks he’s not repairing quickly enough. Unintended consequences hammering against the other side of the stone in the form of angry white waves.

He’s staring at the beige circle of batter in the pan, swept off with the waves into someplace far from his kitchen, when the sound of your voice draws him back.

“Joel? You down there?”

The floorboards at the top of his stairs creak. You’re leaning over the banister.

“Yeah, darlin’, I’m here.” He slips halfway out of the kitchen door, closing it over his body in hopes you won’t smell the pancakes. You ask what he’s doing, and he says, “Just makin’ a coffee. You want anything brought up?”

“I’m good,” you reply. “’m gonna take a shower.”

“Alright, baby. There’s probably some stuff in Sarah’s bathroom you can use.”

He listens closely as your footsteps recede, waiting to hear the hum of his shower before he relaxes again, flipping the pancake over. It sizzles away as he runs one thick finger along the inside of the bowl and tastes his handiwork. Pretty damn good, he thinks. He’s sucking his finger clean when his cell goes.

Joel swipes to answer, and before he can utter a Hello?, your dad’s voice is screaming down the line to him.

“Mornin’, pal! You in? You up?”

He figures this is the infamous speakerphone you rambled for ten minutes about last night. Like a fucking foghorn, man. I’m deaf in this ear now.

He doesn’t wait for Joel to respond. “I was just passin’ by, remembered you got that leakin’ pipe, or whatever it is. Under your sink, right? You good for me to drop in ‘n take a look?”

“Uh – uh, I’m –” Joel stammers his way through a sentence he doesn’t know the ending of, slotting the phone between his cheek and his shoulder and giving the pan a rattle against the stovetop. He slips the spatula under the mixture, and when he flips it over, the pancake is charcoal black. “Fuck.”

“What’s that?” you dad roars, deafening in Joel’s ear. Fuckin’ speakerphone.

“Nothin’, it’s…” He sighs, accepting his new-found position: backed into a fucking corner. What’s new these days?

“Yeah, I’m up. See you in a bit.”

He hangs up the phone midway through an Alright, buddy from your dad, and whacks the chargrilled pancake on top of the pile. His phone surfs across the counter in a blur of blind panic, before Joel’s taking the stairs two at a time to get to you.

The door’s ajar. He can hear you quietly singing to yourself. Same song you’re always fucking singing, always trying to coax Joel into singing along with you. You’re humming the guitar solo when he whips the door open.

“Hey, hey,” he’s panting, taking your towel in one hand and reaching for the shower door with the other, a blur of movement before his eyes like he’s not in control of his own body. “Out.”

“Huh?” you reply, blinded by the soap suds running down your forehead and into your eyes.

“Baby,” Joel whispers, desperate, “you gotta get out. He’s here. Your damn dad’s here.”

He drags you over to the first place he spots: his closet. He knows it’s no fucking good, but he can hear your dad’s car squealing to a halt in his drive, and he’s in a blink panic wondering what artefacts, what evidence of your being here lie dotted around his house. Your bikini’s hanging up out back, there’s probably a hoodie still strewn over the back of his couch.

He doesn’t have time to think, though, because in the midst of his mental scan of every room whilst explaining to you what’s going on, your dad’s heavy boots just thudded onto his doormat.

“Miller?” he calls up the stairs. And Joel closes the closet over.

----------

He stands by the front door watching your dad’s car purr off down the street, waiting until it turns left and disappears behind the Dawsons’ back fence to shut the door. When he turns back into his hallway, the house is uncomfortably silent. You’re still up in his room.

The weight of your phone pulls at the waistband of his jeans. He slips his hand into his back pocket, fishes it out, and takes one step toward the stairs. The screen lights in his palm.

There’s a cluster of notifications from some film class group chat, a couple Snapchats from Sarah. A reminder to take your birth control from some pink-icon app, and then –

I’m heading over to Joel’s to check something out for him. Wanna meet me there?

He stares at it until the text burns into his eyes. Blinks, and it’s seared into his lids. His breath leaves his chest in a heavy, burdened sigh. It trembles as it pushes from his lungs. He feels something burning under his skin. All over.

He’s angry. And he’s trying to keep it contained.

Keep it where it lies, keep it beneath the surface. Stop it from pooling right behind his lips, collecting in the light of his eyes. Keep it from revealing itself. But when his foot lifts to the first step, it’s like a deadweight in the air.

He’s angry. But he’s fucking exhausted.

The bedroom is empty when Joel pushes the door open. You’re still hidden in the closet. You don’t look up at him when he pulls on the shuttered door, letting light flood across your hands, still covering your face. There are flicks of dripping wet hair peeking out from under the towel on your head.

He wants to put his arms around you. Wants to kiss you all over. Tell you, It’s okay, it’s alright. He didn’t see nothin’.

But he can’t. Because neither of those things are true.

Your dad saw the cowgirl hat. Hell of a lot like a hat my daughter has. It sent a sharpened bolt of panic through Joel’s body the second the words came tumbling out. He might’ve seen your bag lying at the bottom of the stairs. Might’ve passed your car on his drive here. There are so many loose fucking ends.

And more than that – harder to accept: maybe this isn’t okay anymore. Maybe it hasn’t been the entire time. And maybe, despite all his good efforts and the fucking way you make him feel, despite it being weeks now of tiptoeing and lying and covering your tracks – maybe you finally crossed a line.

He can’t look at you a second longer. His heart’s in his throat. If he opens his mouth to speak, he’ll probably choke. Break down. So he walks away.

You follow him downstairs a few minutes later, fully dressed and silent. Your touch sweeps across his shoulder blades, and it takes everything in him not to turn to you then and there. Come here, kiss me. Pretend none of it’s happening, just for a moment.

He sets your plate down in front of you. He’s taken the burnt pancake. He follows a pattern: cuts into the food, glances out to the backyard, and back to the plate. It’s the only thing keeping the words from rolling out onto the table in front of him. The only thing stopping him from –

You kick his leg. So gently, he barely feels it.

“You gonna eat?” he asks in response, chewing on the smoky flavor of burnt batter. Your hands hesitate, and he feels his own flinch as if to take them, rub them, squeeze them. And then he watches as you drag your knife through your own breakfast.

He wants you to yell at him. He wants to give meaning to the guilt he feels. He knows what’s coming, and he isn’t so sure that you do.

This is…impossible. It has been, from the start. Always sneaking off, coming up with excuses. So many fucking excuses, he can’t even keep them straight in his head anymore. She’s here, droppin’ my flannel off. Now we’re upstairs, I’m showin’ her my guitar. Need her to help with decorations. Your TV’s broken, did you know that? Don’t mind us, just sat in this private corner of my backyard, out of view of fucking everyone. I’ll pick her up from her rodeo night, take her home. She’s at Anna’s all day today, right?

And your dad – kind and naïve, or maybe just so fucking gullible that every single one lands like the flour did in the egg mixture. Just gracefully floats down into his brain, absorbs itself and folds perfectly into place.

So, yell at him. Get mad. Make him feel like the fucking asshole he knows he is. Leading you on, and letting you get close to him, and then when it gets too hard – pushing you away. Doesn’t matter if that’s what he did or not; doesn’t matter whether he did or didn’t mean it. He wants you to be mad at him. To justify what he’s about to do.

He slides you your phone. Motions for you to read it.

“Fuck…” you whisper, and then he thinks you get it.

But then you say, “…he didn’t see me, though. Right?” and his heart sinks.

No. He didn’t see you. But he saw so many little pieces of you, that Joel finds it impossible to consider that he isn’t already seeing the entire picture. He’s picturing your dad at home in the living room, one hand on his hip, the other running through his hair, adding two and two and two and two and –

You’re bickering. Actually arguing. He doesn’t know how to navigate it, save for letting the frustration take the wheel and drive the point home: you came too close to being caught.

You’re smarter than this, he knows you are. He knows that you can see plain as day, everything that he can. The bag, the hat, the fucking home-cooked breakfast sat on his kitchen counter. He’s watching you argue your point, hands dancing in the air animatedly, eyebrows lifting, eyes widening. Hear me out. Listen to me. Hear me out.

“I didn’t fucking mean to let him see the b–”

“That’s not the point,” Joel says, before he has time to stop himself.

“Then what’s your point?”

He feels his voice carry off into the air with the images racing around his head. Hank’s shadow under the door. The roar of voices downstairs as you climaxed. Your body pinned under Joel’s on your couch. The way the morning light screamed into the house as your front door burst open.

He doesn’t sound like he has much of a point, even to himself. He’s in it just as much as you are. He’s lied and he’s hidden just as much as you have, and made mistakes that are…worse, as far as he’s concerned.

And the worst one of all sits directly opposite him. Head low, eyes boring into the wood of his kitchen table. He can see the tears swelling across your waterline. Can feel the heat from here as it spreads across your face. Anger thrums through his chest again, and his teeth grit.

He murmurs, pushing himself up from the table and away from you. Tells you there’s some stuff he needs to see to. You’re mad about it, like he knew you would be. Like you should be. He promises he’ll be back in a couple hours; promises you’ll talk when he gets home.

And then he leaves.

----------

Clark’s is on the other side of town. It takes him nearly forty minutes to get there, and more than half of that time is spent staring at the tail lights of a Honda in front of him. Some accident up ahead. His eyes bore into the burning red strip of brake light until it’s singed into them, a blur of blue when he finally rips his glare away and stares up at the white sky.

He thinks about calling you. Saying, Hey, I’m stuck in traffic, talk to me, but he doesn’t. He just…doesn’t.

Instead, he wonders what you’re doing. Whether or not you’re still at his place. He wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t. But if you are – and he hopes you are – what are you doing?

He thinks: She’s on the couch. Bundled in blankets. Grey’s is on TV. She’s rewatchin’ her favorite episodes.

Least, that’s what he wants you to be doing. Wants you to be making yourself feel better, because he knows he was a complete ass earlier. You didn’t deserve any of it. Nothing that he didn’t deserve himself, just as much, anyway.

He thinks about coming home, and you hitting pause, pushing yourself off the couch and sauntering around to him. Wrapping him in the blanket until your bodies are pressed together under the woven red, and kissing him. Kiss me kiss me kiss me.

And the thought of you, standing on your tiptoes to press your soft lips to his, your fingers sifting through his hair, is like a cold pack on a searing wound. Dulls his anger, even if it’s just for a second.

His wide tires crawl silently across the smooth lot of the plant hire, parking right in front of the wire fence. The truck door slams shut when he gets out. He doesn’t mean it. Maybe he does. But he does it without thinking, and with a hot head, a temper sharper than nails, he strides over to the glass-paneled door and swings it open.

She’s sat behind the desk, same as always. Dark, deep auburn hair, groomed and set to perfection so that when she looks up, it doesn’t move an inch. Curls around the sweetheart shape of her face, smooth and shining. Her blue eyes twinkle in the glaring light from outside, and she stands.

She tugs lightly on the hem of her white blouse. You’d probably elbow him and say, That’s cream, not white. She smiles at him and it doesn’t look a thing like your smile. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw your smile. Fuck, he thinks, when did I last make her smile?

And he’s still wondering, when Lois says, “Hey, stranger,” and puts a gentle, pale, red-nailed hand down on the desk. “Long time, no see.”

“Yeah,” Joel grumbles, clearing his throat and glancing at the man in a pair of thick, steel-toe boots, sat in a waiting area to his left. He thinks it’s probably polite to ask how she is. It’s been seven weeks since he blew off her hint for a date.

“Good, thanks,” she replies, cheeks swelling even more. They’re lightly shaded crimson, a soft shimmer to them against her snowy skin, dappled with light freckles. “You?”

He nods once. “Good,” he echoes, not sure what else to say. He’s lying, and she doesn’t seem to figure him out the way you would.

No. Instead, Lois steps back, straightens up, and twirls the pen in her fingers. “What can I do ya for?”

“Got some equipment I’m after,” he mutters, hand slipping into his back pocket for his phone. Lois’s eyes flit up and down his body as he taps his passcode in with his thumb.

She asks him something, but it sounds like she’s speaking through a closed door. He’s elsewhere.

The phone unlocks, screen lifting to reveal the last open app: his camera roll. His thumbs hover over the screen, tracing where yours would’ve tapped last night.

The video’s muted, she won’t hear it even if he let it play, but he swipes away the second he recognizes the tangled mess of your hair, his fist locked tight in it. His own hair, salt and pepper buried deep in the crook of your neck.

Something in his chest aches. Pulls tight, hurts his heart. He takes a deep breath and scares the feeling away. He’s staring at his camera roll. Staring at twelve little square thumbnails – couple of them work stuff, couple of them lists of supplies he has to remember to pick up – and then. Then.

You. At the Hillcrest. Dimples in your cheeks. That’s what made him take his phone out. The soft dips in your skin that appear anytime you smile, laugh, sometimes even just when you talk. He’d first noticed them when you had a mouth full of pizza, chatting animatedly about Meredith and Derek, and he’s noticed them every time since.

He’d seen them, as you posed with Sarah for a selfie at lunch. And his hand had slipped into his pocket before his brain even had the chance to finish the thought.

His quiet way of marking how he felt in that moment. How his chest seemed to fill as if with air, or something thicker. Sweeter. Like it was trying to push words up, a comment to tell you how beautiful you looked. Trying to make him move, run his thumb light as air across that tiny valley in your cheek and look at you with eyes that translated the words hammering behind his eyes.

But you had company. And all he managed to do was take two fucking photos.

Lois talks again, and this time, there’s no closed door.

“Huh?” Joel’s head snaps up, takes a few seconds to focus on the red hair in front of him. “Sorry, Lois, sorry.”

“’s alright. You okay?” She’s smiling so warmly, so sincerely. And there are no dimples in her cheeks.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “just checkin’ for the address.”

She holds out a pad, a stack of hire agreement forms hovering between her body and his, but he’s not looking. He’s still scrolling through his phone, thumbs searching your dad’s text thread for the information. Lois lowers the pad to the counter, places the pen on top. Fiddles with it until it’s lined up with the top of the form perfectly.

Then Joel looks up, and she smiles again.

“Not for you, then?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “Just the messenger.”

“Got it. Well, you know what you’re doing. Let me know if you need anything.”

Lois takes a step back, eyes still on Joel, who smiles politely, then swipes the form from the desk and takes a seat between Steel-Toe Boots and some tall, leafy plant that he has to bat away when he sits down. He’s copying the site address, phone resting on his thigh, when the receptionist speaks again.

“How’s Sarah doin’? She home yet?”

“Yeah,” Joel replies, “been home a couple weeks now. She’s been in Nashville this weekend.”

Lois lifts her head, blinking slowly. “Nashville. Nice. So, you’ve had a weekend to yourself.”

He scoffs. “Yeah,” he croaks.

“And what does Joel Miller get up to when he has an empty house for a few days?”

His fingers squeeze around the pen, pushing deeper into the paper. His expression hardens. “Nothing excitin’ enough to share. Sat by the pool yesterday. Was nice out.”

She agrees. “Sure was. You have company?”

Joel shakes his head once. Blinks the image of you and your red bikini from his vision. Focuses on dragging the pen one digit at a time across the line labeled Phone Number. If he cared enough, he’d give the obvious hint a couple seconds’ consideration, even just to protect Lois’s pride a little.

But he doesn’t care. And right now, he ain’t interested in protecting anyone but you.

“Nope. Just me ‘n a few beers.”

“Better off that way,” a hoarse, forty-cigs-a-day voice rasps from his right. “Less fuckin’ problems.”

Joel’s jaw rotates a degree towards the work boots; notices the folds of dry, leathery skin piled atop the raised gray eyebrows of their owner, and then turns back silently.

Lois clears her throat awkwardly. “Well, I spent the day with my book. I’m readin’ a Colleen Hoover. Adam’s at camp, so – quiet house for me, too.”

Joel finds himself nodding. Autopilot. He’s pretending he’s listening.

You’re still in his sight, wandering over from the sliding kitchen doors, a bottle in each hand. He can hardly see you when he looks up, the sun’s so bright. You hold a beer out, condensation dripping down your fingers towards Joel’s when he takes it, and then you slump down in the sun lounger next to his.

His arm reaches across, and your small fingers wrap and then unwrap around his, running across his knuckles, nails lightly scratching his worked hands. And he’s smiling, and he doesn’t even notice it until his eyes meet yours and you laugh, and he asks, What? through a chuckle, and you say, Nothin’, you just look happy.

Your dimpled blush blurs back into checkboxes and scrawled handwriting. You’re gone again. He’s in a white office, and the gentle lapping of the water on the pool’s edge fades into the headache noise of a fan humming, and he feels the warmth of your gaze on his skin turn into the cold, harsh spotlight glare of Lois’s eyes on him.

He looks up. She’s still smiling. At this point, he finds it fucking unnerving.

He rises from his chair, swings a wandering leaf from that ugly green plant out of his way and paces back over to the desk, sliding the pad back across to her. Their hands brush as she takes it from his grip, and he pulls his wrist close to his body. Lois doesn’t seem to notice.

She’s running the pen down the form, checking everything he’s filled in. Her tongue moves around the inside of her cheek, sucking on a hard candy. “Delivery on Friday?” she double checks, and Joel nods. “Alright,” she says, tearing away his copy, “we’ll call ya.”

“’ppreciate it,” he mumbles, folding the paper into his back pocket.

She turns, reaching to slip the form into a blue tray, and Joel pauses. Thinks to say something – he hopes Adam has a fun time at camp, or that Lois enjoys the rest of her quiet week. But then he sees you sat opposite him, staring fixedly at the plate before you, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. He feels your hand laced in his, hears your laugh still ringing in his ears.

He misses you. He should never have left you. You matter more to him than some equipment for a site. Matter more to him than anything. He should’ve never fucking left.

Joel nods. Reaches for the handle of the door. Glances back to Lois. “There a florist anywhere near here?”

----------

He pulls the truck in alongside the florist. Teal window frames, a little pink door. He can hear you now. How fucking cute is that store? Give me your phone, I gotta get a picture. Mine’s is in my bag in the back. Look, the traffic’s movin’, Joel, give me your phone – quick!

His fingers hook around the silver door handle. He pats his jeans once – wallet’s right there – and goes to pull, when his cell vibrates from the center console. He can see himself in the glass screen, your dad’s name written across the reflection of his forehead.

He bites down on his lip. Hard. Glances up to the road ahead. Blinks. And decides to answer.

“Joel,” your dad chirps down the line. “Sorry, buddy, you’ll be sick a’ the sight ‘n sound of me today.”

Joel manages a convincing laugh. “What’s up?”

“Just makin’ sure you’re rememberin’ to put Friday’s date down for delivery on that order. We’re gonna need the stuff over the weekend, so.”

“Yep. Just been to do it right now. Friday’s date, Harvey’s site, your card details ‘n everything.”

“’attaboy. Good job. You’re all grown up.”

“Funny.”

“Thanks, pal. I appreciate it. There wasn’t no chance I was gettin’ time to do it myself,” he lowers his voice, “I’m still stuck here with Kelman.”

Joel’s fingers trace around his steering wheel. “Oh, yeah? He keepin’ you busy?”

“You bet. Had to haggle with ‘im just to get a lunch break. Speakin’ of – I swung by the house and that daughter of mine wasn’t home. Haven’t seen or heard from her since yesterday mornin’. I’m just checkin’ she ain’t stop by to see Sarah or som’?”

His fingers lock tight around the leather. “Sarah’s still in Nashville, she gets in tonight. Couldn’t tell you where yours is. I’m not home yet, so.”

It’s a half-truth. He could wager a pretty good guess, but he can’t be certain, can he?

Your dad chuckles down the line. “She spent the night at Anna’s. My house must be like prison to her – she’s never around anymore. I’ll hear from her soon, I’m sure. Alright. Thanks, again, Joel.”

He drops the phone back into the cupholder with a sigh, leaning back against the headrest to stare at the roof of the truck. He’s still picturing you in his living room, head turning to the street at every sound of a car door, or tires rolling by. And then the image is marred by your dad, peering in the window back at you, catching you wrapped up in a situation you shouldn’t be in.

He doesn’t want your dad to find out. For obvious reasons. Because it would mean the collapse of their friendship, the collapse of the world they built between them – for you, for Sarah, for themselves. Comfortability, and normalcy, and routine and order all thrown to the wind on account of some month-long fling.

But more important than all of that: it would mean dragging you into all of that, too. Fucking up your relationship with your dad. Making things weird between you and Sarah. Ruining whatever’s left of what you and Joel had, before you both took it too far.

And if he doesn’t want all that – if he doesn’t want your dad finding out – then something has to change. Something’s gotta stop.

His fingers wrap tight around the key and turn, and the truck jumps to life. He turns away from the teal-colored florist as he pulls off.

----------

You take it about as well as he reckoned you might. About as well as you should, given the circumstances. He isn’t surprised, and he doesn’t blame you. He’s probably on your side, when you argue back with him.

“You’re not serious, right? Joel. You’re not –”

“Kid, I…”

“No. What? Because of a fucking bag?”

He lifts his gaze and pleads with you. “Because of the lying.”

You’re right, with your response: it’s never been an issue until now. He’s been more than fucking happy to sneak off, take you as his own, and then return with a satisfied grin and a mouth full of excuses to feed your company. He almost agrees.

It’s just: this time, your dad’s at your heels like a bloodhound. A little less sharp, maybe. Blind as a fucking bat, sure. But he can smell something’s up. And he’s circling it, nose to the ground, drawing nearer and nearer to the pair of you with each step.

You ask if he wants to tell the truth. That thought scares him just as much. Knocks him back a few steps. No, he doesn’t want to come clean.

The words fly back and forth like a tennis match. Too fast for him to keep control of what he’s saying and how you’re hearing it. He wants to break it off – is there anything to break off? – but he doesn’t want to lose you – how can you lose something you never had? – and then: did he ever have you in the first place?

You’re standing over him, between his knees. “End it,” you tell him. “I’ll go.”

There’s a casualness in the loose shrug of your shoulders that scares him more than the prospect of you actually leaving. How easy it looks like it could be, for you to just wander out. Sling your bag over your shoulder and revert back to the start of the summer, when he was just a ride home after a rainy day at work.

Forget how to touch him the way he’s certain only you can, forget the secret language between you, forget every stolen glance and whispered word and every thought that ever translated from your brain to his as easy as they would pass between your lips.

“You don’t mean nothin’ to me? That what you think?” He’s laughing. Disbelief, fear, shock. Whichever one it is, it pulls across his cheeks painfully. Somehow, you’ve ended up at the foot of his bed.

“Well, what else am I supposed to take from this, asshole? That you’re fuckin’ in love with me?”

It’s cold water over an already-dying fire. The words smother into ash on his tongue. No more come to the front. He just stares at you. His phone starts to chitter out into the silence between you.

You take a step forward. Your voice is low. “You don’t get to do this, you know. You don’t get to pull me in and then drop me…once you’re done with me.”

“Don’t.”

It’s not much, but it soars from the pit of his stomach, through his throat and past his lips like a final arrow. All he can muster up.

“Don’t.”

There’s a weight where the words originate from. Something deep in his gut, an ache pulling its way upward, swelling across his chest. His ears are screaming.

Of all the things you might think – he’s an asshole, he’s a liar, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing – the worst one would be that he spent this entire time leading you on. Making you feel special. Making you think you were something to him.

You are something to him. You’re – you’re fucking everything to him. It’s why he’s doing this, right? Going against every instinct, every gut feeling. To protect you. To do what’s right by you. He’s not fucking done with you. He wonders if he’ll ever go another day in his life without thinking about you.

“I can’t read your mind anymore…” you whisper, and his lungs steal a breath. His lack of response flattens your expression.

Joel might not be done, but you are.

He can feel you slipping from his grasp like sand through his knuckles. Each grain rocking itself loose, choosing to throw itself to the depths below rather than spend another second wrapped in his clutch.

He’s trying so desperately to hold onto you. Listen to me, he thinks, and he knows you can’t hear him anymore. Because now you’re really going – you’re tripping out of his room. Your heel catches on the threshold, like one last-ditch attempt from fate to pull you back into him, but you stop yourself and spin, fleeing down the hallway.

He takes a loose grasp of your wrist, fingers barely meeting on the other side of your skin before you tear it away from him like he’s scalded you. The look on your face makes him think for a moment that he might actually have done it – burned you. Pained you. Raised the skin below your gentle palm in a furious, red glow.

He’s swapping words out like they’re tools, each one immediately breaking and being flung back into the box. He’s trying any combination, any useless, futile order of words to make you stop in your tracks. You know how much I care about you, ‘s why I’m doin’ it, baby, come back, we can talk about this.

And he opens his mouth to give voice to the only words he knows would stop you – the reason why he’s doing it in the first place, the only thought he’s had anytime he’s looked at you for the last couple weeks. He opens his mouth to say it, or say something like it, when the machine silences the ringtone and the pair of you, too.

Her voice is like ice down the back of his shirt. He stares at the machine, red light blinking like a rag to a bull. He could walk over to it and smash the ever-loving fuck out of it with his fists until it’s dust on his coffee table. Until it shuts the fuck up, stops interfering with his fucking business.

And then he thinks about Lois, and her cream blouse, and her red nails, and her big, blue eyes, and her soft drawl and everything about her that is so entirely opposite to everything about you.

And how much – despite how nice and friendly, or funny and good-natured she is – how much he hates her right now, and how much he fucking loves you.

But you’re gone, now. Washed away by the tide. No more sand in Joel’s palm.

He tries to stop it. Tries to wind back a little, tries to make the sea cough up what it just stole from him. Give her back, you fuck. His eyes are stinging like salt water. Why are they stinging? There’s a roaring in his ears – the waves laughing in his face. Sickly and deafening.

He’s doing his best to keep a hold on his trembling voice. He knows he sounds pathetic. But yours is louder, stronger, steadier. And when you talk, it’s with an air of finality. Like you’re turning over the horizon. The last time he’ll ever see you again.

“I’ll see you ‘round, Joel.”

----------

He doesn’t call or text you that night. He doesn’t know what he’d say. Doesn’t even know where he’d begin. You’re mad, and Joel figures you got every right to be. This entire thing – today, this weekend, the whole month you’ve been together – is one big fucking mess.

He spends the afternoon hunched over his kitchen table, trying to distract himself with work. Twirling a pencil between his fingers, reading three, four, sometimes five times over the same building plans before deciding that the words and numbers won’t fucking sink in. He leaves them strewn across the table, wanders aimlessly upstairs and takes a cold shower.

Sarah’s flight gets in at 8PM. Joel’s sat curbside, truck engine humming, scanning every single figure that walks out of the airport building. When he spots the gray hoodie, the brown hair tied back with a pink scrunchie, the much-too-big-for-four-days-away suitcase rolling at her heels, he gets out.

She hugs her friends, they nod in passing greeting to him, and she skips over.

“Hey,” he breathes as she wraps her arms around his waist. “How was your flight? Saw you comin’ in.”

She shrugs in response. “I’m hungry. Wanna go get McDonald’s?”

Joel grumbles, slotting her case in the back of the truck. “You don’t wanna get home? Take a shower first? You smell like plane.”

“Ha! No.”

She opens the passenger side door and hoists her foot up on the seat, retying her sneaker. Joel’s already in and buckled up, hands on the wheel, watching her blue nails loop the laces.

“There’s one, like, ten minutes away.”

He’s shaking his head. “We got food in the house.”

Her gaze lifts. Her foot drops. “Oh, c’mon, it’s on the way home. We’ll be, like, five minutes. I just got off a two-hour flight, dude, right through dinner. I’m starving, I –”

“Would you just get in the damn truck, Sarah?”

It’s shorter, snappier, angrier than he meant. But he’s parked in the middle of the packed pick-up area, and the rattling of suitcase wheels and the whistling of cab drivers and the fucking roaring of planes overhead are making the headache behind his eyes worse.

Sarah freezes, one arm still leaning on the doorframe. “Jesus. What the fuck?”

“Sorry,” Joel mutters, shaking his head. “Sorry. Just – get in.”

“No need to be an asshole about it,” she murmurs, pulling herself up into the passenger seat.

Joel’s face is in his hands, elbows atop the steering wheel. “I’m not tryna be an asshole,” he says into his palms.

His daughter looks at him. Concerned. “Somethin’ happen? While I was gone?”

He shakes his head again.

Nothing happened.

He’s quiet the rest of the night. The rest of the week. Sarah notices, he knows she does, because she pries. In her own way. She’s smarter than he is. Less obvious.

She’s already up and in the kitchen when he rises on Tuesday morning. Spins around at the toaster, tells him the machine’s ready for his coffee. Asks if he wants her to make it. Asks if he wants any breakfast.

Thanks, kiddo. No, I’ll get it. No, you’re good, thanks.

They sit opposite one another in silence, save for the crunching of Sarah’s toast. He can feel her eyes on him, same way he felt Lois’s. Trying to burrow deep inside, take a look at his brain. Catch a glimpse of the words he’s thinking over and over and over.

There ain’t no words, though. It’s just images. Video replay of your back as you strode down his driveway, the way the wind caught your hair and brushed your cheek, the way your hand came up to wipe your tears. And the way he stood there, like a fucking idiot, and did nothing.

His chest hurts any time he thinks about you. Pulls in, knits itself together in knots. He’s good at pushing feelings down, good at turning them away from the sunlight like faded pebbles. But this is different. It’s a different kind of hurt.

It’s unresolved, it’s an open wound. It’s you. And it’s every time he hears REO Speedwagon, every time he pulls a flannel over his shoulders and catches the scent of your perfume on it, every time he’s flicking through the TV and catches a flash of a hospital setting, it’s a pair of hands deep inside the wound, pulling it a little wider.

It aches. It stings and it aches and it winds.

And then he turns the pebbles around. Back to the shade. Over and over and fucking over.

On Wednesday night, he caves. Asks Sarah if she’s spoken to you.

She’s chewing on a slice of pizza; licks the grease from her fingertips before she answers. “Not really. She’s been quieter than usual. Why?”

“She’s been quieter than usual?” he repeats, playing off the way his head shot up by looking straight back down at the pizza box.

Sarah narrows her eyes. “Yeah. I figure she’s working a lot.”

“Right. Right.”

“She gets tired of being in the house all the time, I think. Getting treated like a kid still. So I guess the more time she can spend outta there, the better.”

Joel nods slowly. He already knows that much.

Sarah studies him. Watches his hands as he dabs a pizza crust into the dip. When he tosses it in his mouth, he looks back up at her.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says. “You want the last slice?”

“You take it,” he mutters, sitting back and wiping his hands on a napkin. “I’m stuffed.”

She hums, reaching forward. “Whatever it is,” she says, pulling the dough apart, “that’s got you this down –”

“Ain’t nothin’ got me down, kiddo.”

“– whatever it is,” she continues, “I bet it works itself out.”

Sarah stands up, taking her water with her, and wanders out of the kitchen.

----------

Joel struggles through another sleepless night, Thursday through Friday. His eyes don’t close over once. He hauls himself out of bed early in the morning, forces a black coffee down his throat, and heads off to work.

He’s up at some new client in Waco. Andrew Curtis – or, well, Andrew Curtis’s father, but Joel’s been dealing primarily with the son, and the guy’s a fucking imbecile. Doesn’t know his head from his ass, probably. And he has a voice like nails on a damn chalkboard, and his shirt’s untucked around the back, but Joel ain’t got a tone kind enough, or half the wordsmanship, or an ounce of energy to tell him.

Anyway – he spends all day at this dusty site, trying to work and instead, thinking about whatever the fuck you’re doing. Wherever you are, whoever you’re with. It’s almost seven by the time he’s leaving, packing up his truck and watching Andrew Curtis across the yard. He’s spotted his own shadow; he’s twisting around to reach the ducktail poking out from above his belt loops.

Joel thinks to call you about it on the way home. Tell you all about the guy: his dry conversation, his flannel, the fact he kept calling Joel Joe all day. He figures it would make you laugh, least the way he’d tell it, and he reckons that’s exactly what you need right now. That’s exactly what he needs, right now.

When Clark’s call him, he dials your dad. Has his ear blown half to hell by the speakerphone. Learns midway through the conversation that you’re right there in the car, too, and bites back a stream of incoherent, senseless words. Settles for a quiet reminder: he’s right here if you need him.

He doesn’t expect you to take him up on it. Knows you got better things to do than deal with some asshole who’d rather break your heart than have a few difficult conversations. You’re probably having fun, probably finally feeling good again. You’re probably fine.

But still. He doesn’t sleep that night, either.

It’s just gone two when Anna calls. He’s lying in bed, some shopping network on loop on the TV. His tired eyes bore into the screen, defocusing over the pixels, not watching nor listening and barely fucking breathing until he picks up the phone. Her voice is panicked, shrill, and shaking so much he wonders if his own phone is trembling with it.

“Mr. Miller?” she asks, and Joel sits up. “Got your number from Yelp. ‘m sorry it’s so late, it’s…oh, fuck – it’s, like, 2AM.”

“Anna,” Joel says hoarsely. Get to the fuckin’ point.

“Right. Sorry. It’s just…we kinda have a…situation, here.”

It’s you. He fucking knows it’s you. His heart begins to hammer. He doesn’t give a fuck whether she puts two and two together or not when he asks –

“Where is she?”

“We’re still at Frank’s,” Anna says, sniffing. He can hear the booming bassline of music, muffled; the sharper chatter of voices. She’s on the street. In his head, he can see her shoulders hunched; her bare arms wrapped around her body for warmth. She goes to say it again. “We’re still at –”

“’n where is she?” Joel cuts, and she finally cracks.

In one long, drawn breath, she spills. “She was fucked from the second we walked in here; she drank too much too quick, Mr. Miller – Joel,” she says when he corrects her, “and then she just – I dunno, she just – fucking disappeared with these guys, me ‘n Kara never saw ‘em in our lives – and they went upstairs we think, and she came back smelling like weed, and then this guy – he just, like, scooped her off, Mr. M– I mean Joel, like, totally dragged her away, and then –”

“Who–? Anna – Anna, wait,” Joel says, shushing her between her rambling, trying to rein in what she’s saying. When she finally shuts up, he speaks slowly and calmly. “Who dragged her away?”

“We don’t fuckin’ know!” she almost shrieks down the line. It cuts out for a second and Joel’s heart stops dead.“– so we don’t know,” she says when her voice filters back through into his ear, “but Sam said he saw the dude drop something in her bottle when he turned away. A pill or something.”

Joel’s body tenses. Freezes solid, with the blood in his veins. His eyes fix on one spot on his dresser: the loose handle that sits a little squint. He stares at it until his peripheral starts to blur.

“He – say that again?”

“He roofied her, we think. But we can’t fucking find them. Sam and Kara are in there just now looking. The guy pulled her away, that’s what I’m tryna say!”

“Right,” whispers Joel, nodding. He drags a heavy hand over his eyes, tries to push the image of you in danger out of his head for one second so he can figure out what to do.

Anna doesn’t hear him. She keeps talking. “…and then Sam said she told him not to call her dad, but I had to call someone, y’know? You’re the only person I think she wouldn’t – I think she wouldn’t mind me callin’. Please.”

He’s already halfway down the stairs, arms pushing through the sleeves of his shirt. He keeps the phone against his cheek when he bends to reach for his boots, ties them loose and grabs his keys.

“You call me as soon as you find her, you hear? I’m on my way,” he tells Anna, and hangs up.

He’s panicking. Fear, transferred between her cell and his, creeping over his shoulders, wrapping long, cold fingers around his throat. He’s panicking. He’s panicking. He never panics. Where the fuck are you? Who the fuck are you with?

There’s barely any traffic on the road, but the drive takes for-fucking-ever. The lights at the side of the road blur into long, thin streaks of orange. His hands are tight around the steering wheel, his jaw clenched. Your name lies loose on his lips.

He pulls up right outside the bar. There are small clusters of people, congregated tight together under the streetlights; cigarettes hanging from lips, bottles loose in hands. He shoves by them on his way to the door. Some guy shuffles out of his way, looking up to cuss Joel out and quickly dipping his head again when he locks eyes with the grizzly expression.

He shoves the door open with his shoulder, and spots you instantly.

----------

His knuckles are throbbing. Skin stretching anytime he moves his hand, searing hot and sharply stinging across the bone. Your touch is the only thing soothing them right now.

He got two good punches in. Just two. Burst the guy’s nose. He would’ve kept going, had he not been in a bar full of people – people who knew who he was – and had you not been stood behind him, body liquid-like from how much you were swaying.

But he has you home now. Up in your room, settled in bed. You’re safe. You’re with him.

You’re fucking wasted. Like, can barely lift a glass of water to your lips unaided wasted. He spent the entire drive watching over you, stealing glances when your head turned or your eyes lulled closed, checking you were still awake, still talking, still fucking breathing.

Whatever that asshole gave you, you don’t seem to have had enough for it to do too much damage. The alcohol is the real culprit. Though you were cognitive enough to yell at him over Lois in the kitchen, which relieved him for a second before it fucking crushed him. He’s lying awake right now – listening to the sound of your snoring – replaying the argument in his head. Over and over.

You’re an asshole and a liar. Just stringing me along this whole time.

He’s some awful cocktail of angry and terrified and fucking heartbroken. You’re lying inches from him, your hand resting softly on top of his, and yet – you’re miles away. The space between you both – fragmented, treacherous.

In a perfect world, he’d have wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He’d have pulled you against his weight, against his strong, steady form. And he’d have walked you, as slow as you needed, out of the bar and to his truck. Maybe laughing. Maybe singing.

He’d have told you everything was fine, told you he loved you, told you he was gonna get you home, make you feel better. He’d hold you until the sun came up, and then hold you until it went back down.

He’d love you. And you’d let him.

Maybe that world doesn’t exist, Joel thinks. And maybe that’s for the better.

It fucking hurts, though. Stings like a hot blade through his chest. All this time, messing around, pretending there was nothing more to it. Letting his feelings through like water in a fucking dam. It was bound to break eventually.

And maybe he really thought, even just for a fleeting moment, there could be something here. Something worth holding onto. More than two idiots messing around, more than sex and secrecy.

He didn’t even realize. Didn’t notice the shift. When did he start feeling…more? When did it cross that line?

He’s staring at the end of your bed. Thinking about you under him, gripping onto his shirt, his hand between your legs. The very first time. And every other fucking time since then. Which one was the threshold? Who pushed who?

His ringtone bursts through the silence, making him jump. His arm swings to fish it from the nightstand, swiping to answer before he’s even read who’s calling, just to shut the thing up.

“Hello?” he murmurs.

“Hey, Joe? Uh, I mean, Joel? It’s Andrew Curtis here.”

He rolls his eyes. For fuck’s sake. “Mornin’, Andrew.”

“Hi. Sorry, I know it’s super early. I’m just checkin’ we’re still good to go. I got my guys ready, we’re rarin’ to get goin’ whenever you are.”

Joel clears his throat, pushing slowly off the plush mattress, resting your hand on the sheets. “Yeah, uh…” He slips out of your room, hopping over to the bathroom and closing the door over. “…I had a, uh…a family emergency durin’ the night. I’m gonna be a little late, but I’ll be there.”

“Oh, gee, I hope everything’s alright?”

He phrases it like he wants Joel to clue him in. He considers for a second actually saying, Yeah, my best friend’s daughter – who I’ve been sleeping with for the last month – got plastered at a bar – Frank’s, local place, you heard of it? – because I broke things off with her – but I didn’t want to, I was just tryna be fuckin’ noble – and I went and picked her up, punched a guy who was tryna hurt her, because guess what, Andrew – I’m in fuckin’ love with her.

He sums it up with: “Yeah. Everything’s fine now. Thanks.”

“Alright, well, great news! Call me when you’re twenty minutes out, I’ll have the guys here for you arrivin’. Safe journey, Joe!”

Joel breathes an Uhuh and hangs up, holding the bridge of his nose. He has a headache, like he’s the one who’s been drinking. It’s only going to get worse, too, heading off to go spend his Saturday with Andrew fucking Curtis and his loose flannel.

The sun’s rising slowly, lighting the hall in a warm glow. Joel pads quietly into your room and pulls the cover back over his side of the mattress. You stir; your head jerks only to move some hair from your face, and then you sigh, sleep pulling you back into its arms.

He watches you for a second. Wishes he could run a light hand down your cheek, kiss your head. Whisper a goodbye, the same way you did to him almost a week ago.

He shakes the thought, collecting his boots from the floor. His hand hovers over his shirt for a moment. And then he lifts it by the collar, lays it neatly on the pillow by your head, and leaves. You can keep it, trash it, burn it. But it’s yours. Everything about him is yours.

In the kitchen, he stands by the sink, nursing a cup of coffee. It’s a quarter to six. This early on a Saturday, he figures he’ll be in Waco by seven, seven-thirty latest. His eyes fix on the spot you two stood last night, yelling back and forth about Lois. She seems so far away, now. He can barely remember the shape of her face, the sound of her voice.

His grip tightens around the mug. He places it in the sink, and grabs his keys. As he passes the stairs, he pauses. Leans on one foot, head tilted to listen out for any sound of life. Any fucking sound – the creak of a floorboard, the squeak of a door handle. Anything to keep him here. Anything.

Nothing comes. No sound, no movement, no you.

He closes the front door gently on his way out.

----------

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[enhaheeseung]

NOBODIES - L. HS

Pairing: heeseung x fem reader!

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, physical and verbal abuse, cursing, blood, crying, mental illness, mentions of suicide, smoking.

WC: 11,933k

Note: some of my older writing so if it’s not good please forgive me :(

3:00 am

While most people were asleep at this time, you could be found wide awake, sobbing quietly a few blocks away from your home.

Home.

A place you wish that you could be far away from and never come back.

Home.

A place where your parents abused you every night.

Home.

A place that didn’t feel like home.

You look out into the night sky with scraped knees, a black eye, and dark bruises covering your fragile body.

Every day was the same. Your parents abused you each chance they got for the unfortunate outcome of a broken relationship. They blamed you for why everything fell apart between them. They always told you everything was fine until you came along. Those dreadful words replayed in your mind daily.

Was it regret, was it something you did, was it just cause they didn’t have time for you? You’d never know.

You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask to be born, if it was your choice. You’d choose not to be born, that way, your parents would be happy, and you would have never existed.

In the distance, you could hear faint sounds of footsteps approaching as they got closer and closer.

A shadow figure came into clear view, standing right above you.

“What are you doing out here so late? It’s not safe for you to be all alone.” you kept your head down so the stranger, who could only be identified as male from the sound of his voice, would not see your bruised face.

“I could say the same thing to you,” you respond quietly.

“What if I told you I don’t want to be safe?” the unknown man crouches down, taking a seat next to you on the sidewalk and inviting himself into your personal bubble.

“Then I’d ask you why.” You wipe your tears discreetly.

“Cause I don’t know what safe feels like, and that scares me.” You hear rustling close to your side, and a metal cling sound, soon followed by a strong smell of cigarette smoke that fills your nostrils. “I hope you don’t mind the smoke.”

What bothered you more than the smoke was that you could relate to every word he just said to you.

“I assume from your silence and being out here all alone you feel the same way.” he deeply exhales the smoke.

“N-no, I don’t,” you lie.

“Please don’t waste time lying to yourself. I had to figure that out the hard way.” He responds.

“What do you know?” You question feeling irritated by him being able to read you like an open book.

“More than I want to know, so what should I call you?” He hums.

“I don’t give my name to random strangers.” you snapped at him.

“Fair enough, I’ll just call you darlin” he clicks his tongue.

“Whatever,” he lets out an airy laugh from your feisty attitude.

“So tell me, Darlin, why are you crying?”

“It’s none of your business,” you mutter.

“It’s not, and I’m not forcing you to tell me.” he inhales the smoke, flicking the ashes on the cold, hard cement.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me, darlin'. I understand more than most people.” even though you didn’t look up, you could feel his eyes looking down on you.

You pull up your sleeve, showing him the cuts and bruises on your left arm.

His breath gets caught in his throat at the familiar sight.

“I told you you wouldn’t understand.” you roll your sleeve back down. You should have never told him in the first place. You have no idea why you were even still talking to him.

“No, I do understand,” he’s quick to correct you.

“You’re not acting like it.”

“I just- I’m sorry, it reminds me of someone I used to know, that’s all.” he felt his heart ache at the memory despite how many years it’s been.

“Who?” You wonder, feeling somewhat curious.

“A girl.” he looks off into the distance, taking a puff of his cigarette.

“What is she like?” You ask.

“I don’t think words could describe what she’s like, but if I had to try, I’d say beautiful, someone who gave me a reason to keep going, different but different in the best way possible, the sweetest girl you’d even meet with the bitterest smile you’d ever see” his tone drops to that of a whisper at the last few words he spoke to you.

“She must be really important to you,” you say, feeling envious. You wished you had someone that saw you that same way.

“She’s more than important. She’s my life.”

You take in his words, nodding in understanding.

“How about you? What’s the most important in your life?” He flips the question on you.

Your lips curve into a slight smile. “A boy”

“What is he like?” He asks, his tone just as curious as yours.

“Special. he was the only person in my life who cared about my happiness,” you smile sadly.

“Was? Where is he now?”

“One day, he just disappeared without a trace and without a goodbye. To this day, I still think about him.” you nibble on your lip trying to hold back more tears.

“I guess we all have that one special person we can never forget,” he sympathizes with you.

“Why am I even telling you this?” You scold yourself internally.

“Now that, I don’t understand,” he chuckles softly. “But I’m glad you did.”

“I should get going now.”

“Too bad, I was having fun.” You stare at him as he drops the cigarette bud, stomping it into the ground and putting out the small orange embers. “Goodnight, darlin',” he says as his tall, slender figure slowly disappears into the windy night.

Standing up, you take heavy steps up the pathway and back to your home.

Heeseung walked the streets alone to clear his mind, or at least that’s what his psychiatrist used to tell him.

He didn’t see the point in it. There was nothing comforting or mind-clearing about walking nevertheless, he did it anyway cause he still enjoyed the silence of the night.

However, the encounter he had tonight was somewhat peaceful, and it gave him a sense of comfort, a comfort that he hadn’t felt in a long time, maybe cause he hadn’t talked to anyone outside of the walls of the institution since ten years ago when he was admitted by his own parents.

His parents who never paid him any attention. He tried his hardest to earn their praise, studying without breaks, picking up piano, and becoming the captain of the basketball team, but nothing was good enough. They always looked over him, and his older brother got all the praise. Sure, heeseung wasn’t nearly as accomplished as his brother, but there wasn’t a need to compare when they both did well for themselves. At least, that’s how he saw it.

It was only one day he had finally had enough he had just got offered to sing for the schools band at an event in town and when he told his mother and father they just laughed in his face, and he’ll never forget what his father said to him. “It’s a miracle they would even want a talentless dim wit like you,” and that was it. At that moment, he knew they didn’t care.

But he still tried to make them care cause he didn’t want to believe the cruel reality of being the black sheep of the family and being compared to his brother all the time.

It was an extreme method, but he threatened to take his own life just so they would look in his direction, and they somewhat did, but not the way he wanted them to. After the incident, he overheard them both having a conversation about what happened. “I always knew he had issues,” he could faintly hear his mother's voice say, and that was the end of it. After that, he was certain they didn’t care and never would and that cry for help ultimately led to him getting treatment for mental health issues that he never even had to begin with, but what hurt the most was that they didn’t even ask what was wrong or if they could help. As a small boy all he ever wanted was to make his parents proud and to make them care, but no matter what, he just couldn’t.

Even though it was technically his fault why he ended up in the ward, he still blames them for everything.

Especially for taking him away from the one thing he cared about most, his friend, his crush, the only person on the planet that made him feel like he was special. He had to leave her so much sooner than he had ever expected.

He remembers everything like it was just yesterday, but unfortunately for him, it wasn’t. Today was the official mark. The last day he saw her was ten years ago.

The highlight of his day was seeing her at the swing set. She always sat there during break, swaying her legs back and forth as she stared at the ground meaninglessly. For some unknown reason, heeseung was drawn to her like a magnet, maybe it’s cause he used to sit on the same swing set every day with that same meaningless stare after being bullied.

He was bullied in school for not being smart enough, hit by his father for being a “failure,” and rebuked by his mother for smoking and doing drugs, which was his first helpless cry for attention, but that, unfortunately, turned into a habit and slowly an addiction and every day he swore it was his last pack but the full ashtray in his car said otherwise.

He finds himself reaching in his coat pocket for another tobacco-filled stick. He pats his butt pocket in search of his lighter, that was nowhere to be found.

“Shit,” he mutters with the cigarette resting on his moist lip. He remembered setting it down on the sidewalk where he was talking to you, and he turned in the opposite direction to where you both talked moments ago.

Spotting his shiny silver lighter on the sidewalk, he dusts it off, holding it to the end of his cigarette, cupping the small flame to shield it from the night wind. Before he could even take the first puff, he heard a loud scream in the distance, causing his cigarette to fall to the now rain-covered ground.

“Y/n! What did I tell you about staying out this late!” He hears a male voice just a few feet away, and if he’s not mistaken, you were the same girl he talked to not even fifteen minutes ago. He stares at the scene before him, watching the male, who he assumed was your father, raising his hand and landing a hard slap against your cheek. He flinched at the sound that echoed throughout the silent night. He squeezed his eyes shut. That one sound alone brought back so many memories that he didn’t want to remember.

So many memories he wished to forget.

He could hear your loud sobs, and the door slammed a few seconds later. He continued his not-so-mind-clearing walk back home normally. He would count each step he took on his way back, but no matter how hard he tried to focus, he couldn’t stop thinking about the sound of your cries. It haunted him until he reached home, laying in his bed, and even when his head hit his pillow, he could still hear the pain in your voice. He was reminded of the time he had faced the same abuse years ago. Tears rolled down his cheek, staining his pillow, and that night, he didn’t get not even one minute of sleep.

Oddly enough, heeseung found himself taking the same path home as last night, which was unusual because he’d always find a new path home every night, but tonight, it’s like his feet were taking him back to you. What was even more odd was the small smile that crept up on his solemn features when he saw you sat alone with your knees to your chest.

It’s been ages since he genuinely smiled.

“So we meet again, darlin',” you hear his familiar voice, soon realizing it was the man from last night. He sits next to you, and for a moment, you feel like you never left the sidewalk, but the bruise on your left cheek is evidence that you did indeed leave the sidewalk and go home that night.

You quickly look up, meeting his eyes for the first time, then looking back down to hide the cuts and scrapes on your face.

Before you could look away, he had already seen the bruises on your delicate face.

“You should probably clean your wounds. They won’t heal properly if you don’t, and I’m sure you have enough scars already.” he didn’t just mean the ones on your body but the ones on your heart, too.

“How did yo-“ You cut yourself off, realizing that he must have seen them when you glanced up at him.

“Wait here.” he walks down a few blocks to a small gas station, grabbing ointment and bandages for your cuts.

“Will that be all?” The cashier behind the desk asks.

“One pack of Lo Crux.” he ponders on it for a moment, knowing a box would only last him a day, if that. “actually, make that two.” The cashier gives him a look, and heeseung could tell that look from anywhere, the look of judgement, but he no longer cared about the opinions of others. He gave up on people the day his parents gave up on him.

He pays for everything, exiting the store, lighting up a cigarette on his way back to you. “Here,” he hands you a red ring pop.

A small smile could be seen on your lips if it wasn’t so dark, but it was still there. “Thank you,” you mutter. For a moment, you felt like you went back to your childhood, remembering the small boy who always sat next to you. He would give you a red ring pop whenever you looked sad, which was every day, you missed him. He was the only person who was ever kind to you, but when you were both in fifth grade, he disappeared and never came back. You went to the park and sat at the swing set every day, hoping he’d come back to you, but he never did.

“Don’t mention it.” somehow, your smile looked familiar. It held so much pain and happiness at the same time. It reminded him of the girl he told you about back in fifth grade that he used to have the biggest crush on. Unfortunately, she always looked so sad, he went to the corner shop every day just to spend his only allowance on a red ring pop. They always cheered him up when he was sad, so for the rest of his school days, he made it a point to give one to her just to make her smile.

He pulled out the first aid kit, dabbing off the dry, crusty blood on your lip as you whimpered in pain. “Shh, it won’t hurt for long, I promise,” he whispers as his warm breath fans your face.

You take a good look at his features up close. Admiring his handsome face, you happened to notice a small mole on the front of his ear in the same spot as the boy who always gave you a ring pop back in school. You shook your head slightly. There was no way it was him. It couldn’t be. You dismissed your delusional thoughts and focused back on his face.

He applied a small amount of ointment on the cleaned wounds and placed a bandage on them. He stared deeply into your eyes, examining your face. He knew it was rude to stare, but he couldn’t help but look at you. Even with a tear-stained face and cuts all over, you still looked stunning to him. “All done,” he says breathlessly, using every last bit of his strength to pull away from you even though you felt like a magnet sucking him in.

“Why?” You had no idea why this stranger was caring for you, especially after your parents said that you were incapable of being loved and cared for.

“Why what?” He says, shifting his eyes away from you after what felt like an eternity for him.

“This,” you point to the band-aid on your face.

“Cause you were hurt, and I don’t like when people are hurt.” he lights another cigarette that’s already two in less than ten minutes.

Yes, you were counting.

“So why are you hurting yourself?” You ask, noticing that every moment you spent with him up till now, he had a cigarette.

His eyebrows clash together in confusion. “hmm?” He replies.

You motioned toward the two packs of cigarettes he just bought.

“Oh, hard habit to break, I guess.” He laughs breathily, “But being alone on this earth is what hurts me the most,” He smiles sadly, looking at the cloudy night sky.

“Why does being on this earth hurt you?” You ask, intrigued by the young gentleman.

“Darlin, you ask too many questions.” He shifted uncomfortably. “How about this a question for a question that way, it’s even, deal?”

You nodded your head like a child.

He resumes right where you left off, “Cause this earth is unfair, and it hurts knowing that the one person who needed me the most is somewhere out there and I’ll never see her again,”

“I’m sorry you have to go through that.” you look at him, eyes full of sincerity.

“It’s not your fault, so tell me, why are you always out here alone?”

Before you could answer, you saw the lights from your house turn on. Your mother was looking out the blinds, waiting for you to come back inside.

You never understood why they wanted a curfew for you. It’s not like they cared about you or your safety.

“Sorry, I have to go now. Will you be out tomorrow?” You stand up, and he joins you shortly after.

“Sure, and no need for an apology, darlin, same spot?” He asks. He didn’t exactly plan on coming back, but since you mentioned it and he had nothing better to do, he supposed he’d come back.

Something about him saying “same spot” sounded so familiar, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on it.

“Same spot,” you confirm, turning around getting ready to leave. Before you leave, you realize you still didn’t catch his name.

“Wait! I never got your name,” you yell into the night, watching as he turns around from the sound of your voice.

He takes his hands out of his coat pockets, throwing them in the air as the cold breeze flows through his black hair and long trench coat. “darlin',” he says. A few beats of silence ensue, making your heart beat faster in anticipation as you shiver slightly from the cold. “I’m nobody and everything to someone,” he shouts, a wide smile making its way to his face.

“What does that mean?” You shout back.

“Whatever you want it to mean, have a good night, Darlin.” he turns around with a hearty chuckle, lighting up another cigarette before putting his hands back in his pockets and counting his steps all the way home.

Just like he said he would, he sat next to you on the sidewalk. The conversation started right where it left off.

“It’s my turn, darlin.” His voice hangs in the air for a moment before you reply.

“I sit out here alone 'cause the silence brings me peace, and the cold air reminds me to feel.”

“Why do you need to be reminded to feel?” he asks with a curiousness in his tone.

A small chuckle bubbles in your chest. It was the first time in a long time that you genuinely laughed. “I think it’s my turn.”

He smiled to himself. “You’re right.”

“Why did you decide to stop and talk to me?”

“I can’t put a finger on it, but something about you reminds me of someone I used to know so you could say,” he pauses, flicking his lighter open and taking a puff of his third cigarette of the night as he exhales the smoke and turns to look at you. “I was drawn to you.”

It took you a minute to compose your thoughts. His gaze was so intense that you could have been trapped in it if you looked for too long. “Now that you mention it, I was thinking the same thing about you.”

“Yeah? Who do I remind you of, Darlin?” He says intrigued.

“He was the boy I told you about before. He was from my class. He’d visit me at the swing set every day after school. There was one thing he did that I’ll never forget, whenever I was sad, he would always give me a red ring pop just like the one you gave me a few nights ago. When it was time for us to go home, he’d always ask same spot. And I’d reply, same spot.” You smiled at one of your happiest memories, and then it dawned on you why him saying same spot felt so familiar, but you still shrugged it off. You figured your mind was just playing tricks on you.

Heeseung froze right where he sat, unable to move, the red ring pop, the swing set, your sad smile. He remembered it all as he exhaled a deep breath. “what was the boy's name?” He asks with a shaky breath.

“You’re asking too many questions again.” you laugh but answer him nevertheless. “Heeseung, Lee heeseung,” you say with a bright and fond smile.

He stares at your face for a good minute. The corners of his lips turn into a frown as his eyes sparkle with tears. He drops his cigarette from his fingers, pulling you into the tightest hug while crying on your shoulder. You very slowly hug him back, even though you were extremely confused by the sudden action.

After his cries settled down a little, he said something that you wouldn’t believe not even in a million years. “y/n, it’s me, heeseung.” he pulled away from the hug to wipe his tears.

Now it was your turn to freeze right in your spot. “n-no, it can’t be you,” your eyes watered with tears replicating his.

He looked different. His skin was pale. He didn’t have his same bowl cut. He had an undercut with a scratch design on the side. His baby face was gone, his jaw was sharper and more defined. The sparkle that used to be in his eyes was now dimmed to that of nothing, and yet, behind everything else, you could still see the small boy who visited you at the park every day.

“I missed you so much.” he took your hands in his, squeezing them lightly.

You pull your hands away from his grasp, making him look at you with hurt and confusion written all over his face. “if you missed me, you wouldn’t have ever left me alone. You knew I needed you.” instead of feeling happy about seeing him, you felt angry remembering how he left you all alone when you were at your absolute lowest.

“Y/n, no, it’s not like that. I swear to you, if it was my choice, I would have never left you.” he holds your shoulders, making you look at him. “Please let me give you the explanation you deserve after all these years,” he pleads with you because he couldn’t lose you after just finding you again.

You chewed on your bottom lip, giving him a small nod after contemplating his words.

“I never told you this, but I was having a very tough time back then. Even though I didn’t show it, I was failing in school. I went through the same abuse as you every night from my parents. I turned to smoking and drugs as an escape and a cry for help, but nothing worked. It got so bad I threatened to take my own life, and they sent me to a mental institution. That’s why I didn’t come to see you anymore. It wasn’t cause I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t.” He rambles on with desperation in his voice. “Y/n, you were the only person in this fucked up world that made me feel like living, if I had a choice, I would have stayed by your side forever.” He explains with nothing but sincerity.

No.

Not heeseung, not the little loving, caring boy that made you smile every day, you never knew that he was hurting on the inside. Why out of everyone on this god-forsaken earth? Why him? He didn’t deserve it.

“Y/n, you have to believe me. I-I’d never leave you. I loved you,” his voice cracked while more tears trickled down his face. “I still love you.” he cupped your face, wiping the tears from your cheek as he cracked the tiniest smile. “I promised you I was going to marry you when we got older, remember?”

You felt overwhelmed. There was so much information coming at you that you could barely process it, but you didn’t need to process it. All that mattered was that he was back, Lee Heeseung was back, and he was everything that you ever needed. “Yeah, I remember,” you smile softly at him.

Your childhood friend and first love came back to you and confessed that he loves you, too. Just when you thought your life was all but over, he came back to you.

“Heeseung, I believe you, and I love you too. I’ve always loved you ever since we were little when you gave me my first kiss.” you pulled him into a hug, never ever wanting to let him go.

“I can’t believe we found each other again.” he hugs you so tightly. You could feel his how fast his heart was beating against your chest. You could have almost mistaken it for your own.

“You have no idea how much I needed you these past years.” you hug him back even tighter.

“Me too, y/n.” he rests his chin on your shoulder. “Me too,” he says, patting your back comfortingly. “I’m here now.”

The only sound to be heard was the gentle wind blowing softly against the trees as you both reunited with each other after so many long insufferable years.

“Your hugs still feel the same, just a little bit stronger,” he chuckles.

“Sorry,” you laugh, along with him loosening your grip.

He contemplates his next words carefully.

“It still happens, doesn’t it?” Even as a young boy, he knew what your parents did to you, and he despised them for it. He found out when you came to school on the first day, it was 90 degrees outside, and you were wearing a sweater. He noticed immediately when you grabbed the chains on the swing, your sleeves rolled down just enough for him to see scars and fresh bruises, and after that, it became his mission to make you forget and to make you smile.

“Every night,” you whisper.

“Why do you stay?” he whispers.

“Cause they’re still my parents,” you cuddled up to him closer.

He knew exactly what that feeling was like. “Come with me just for the night.” he rubs your back soothingly.

“If they find out, they’ll kill me.”

“Then they don’t have to find out I’ll bring you back early in the morning, trust me?”

“I trust you.”

And trust him, you did with your whole entire life.

You both walk hand in hand to his house, the only sound coming from both your footsteps on the cold cement.

“Like yesterday,” he pauses for a second. “You and me, it feels just like yesterday. Your hands feel the same, your laugh sounds the same, and your smile is still the prettiest. I could swear that I’m ten years old again.” he tightens the grip he had on your hand.

You couldn’t deny it. It felt just the same, “me too,” you lean on his shoulder.

When you both arrive at his doorstep walking in, you see nothing but an empty room with white walls, one chair, and a small table very minimalistic, almost like he had just moved in.

“Wh-“ You didn’t finish your sentence before his lips were on yours. He cupped your cheeks gently while kissing you ever so softly. You instinctively responded to the kiss, wrapping your hands around his neck and kissing him back with the same devotion.

He pulled away to take a breath and when he opened his eyes. he was even shocked to see your face so close to his something must have come over him, and he had zero self-control over what just happened. “I honestly don’t know where that came from. I'm so sorry.” before he could even continue apologizing, you were already initiating another kiss.

You bring his face mere inches away from yours. “Don’t be,” you say against his lips, pulling him closer for a more heated kiss than the last.

He groaned into the kiss, gripping your waist carefully. “y/n,” he swallows thickly, touching his forehead to yours with his eyes closed. “We’re not kids anymore. If we continue like this, just kissing won’t be enough,” he warns you cause he knew if things went further, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, or at least he wouldn’t want to.

“Then let’s do more than just kiss.” he picks you up, taking you to his room.

You both take turns riding each other’s clothes, and you lay back on his bed, slightly covering your chest with your hands.

“There’s no need to cover up. You’re beautiful.” he gently takes your hands away from your chest, lacing your fingers with his while he hovers over you, his eyes never leaving yours for a second.

He pins your clasped hands to the mattress, and you wrap your legs around his back while he leaves open-mouth kisses all over your neck. “Heeseung,” you moan softly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks and your body flush with desire.

He works his way down lower, swirling his tongue around your erect nipples as you tug on his hair in search of anything to grip onto.

You tangled your hands in his hair, making him emit a soft moan. He ghosts his fingers along your sides, a shiver slowly running up your spine as he leaves a trail of wet kisses along your abdomen. Slowly continuing his way between your legs, he placed three small experimental kisses on your pubic bone before giving your clit a soft lick. The feeling makes your back arch and your toes curl as he continues to lick your folds. While putting your legs over his shoulders, he rests his palms on your lower stomach, tracing his fingers all the way up to your sensitive breasts, giving them both a light squeeze as he uses his thumb to press down on your nipples, rubbing them in small circles.

He laps at your folds, getting a taste of your arousal that begins to leak out. The tip of his pointy nose brushes against your clit, adding even more pleasure. You could feel yourself getting close already. He uses his left hand to stick two fingers inside you easily from how wet you have gotten. He moves his fingers in and out of you while making a scissoring motion to open you up for him.

When he felt your walls tightening on his digits, he pumped his fingers inside you faster while sucking on your clit to make you reach your climax.

Your legs began to shake from the strong feeling of your impending orgasm. You whimper his name quietly when he brings you to complete bliss as he slows the pace of his fingers, calming you from your state of pure ecstasy.

He climbs above you on the bed, moaning softly when his wet tip rubs against your thigh. He leans down to place a loving kiss on your sweet lips. “Still the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” he runs his thumb along your jawline, taking in your beauty mixed with all the little flaws.

You look deeply into his eyes, feeling so many emotions that you couldn’t even explain. “I love you,” you say, encircling your arms around his thin waist.

He buried his face in your neck to hide the little tears that had formed in his eyes. He dreamt of you saying those words, but he could have never imagined his dream would ever come true. “I love you too,” he says near your ear, his voice barely above a whisper.

He holds himself up, looking at you briefly before he lined himself up with your entrance. Pushing his tip past your folds as slow and gentle as possible.

You clawed at his back from the slight pain of the intrusion as he pecked your forehead sweetly.

At the first sound of discomfort you made, he immediately stopped. “I’m sorry I should have asked sooner, but Is this your first time?” You nod your head without making any eye contact with him.

“Hey, look at me.” he tilts your chin, making you look at him. “It’s mine too. It’s okay. We’ll go as slow as we want. We have all night.” he gently rocks his hips back and forth to get you used to the indescribable feeling. He continues at a slow pace until he feels you starting to relax. “That’s it, just breathe and relax. It’ll fade away soon, I promise.” he guides you through the nerve-racking experience with his slow gentle strokes and soft voice. You follow his instructions, taking, steady breaths, just like he promised. The pain soon faded, and you felt like you needed something more. It didn’t take him long to realize, and he went a bit faster before pulling all the way out, leaving in just the tip and pushing back in all the way until he was sheathed in the deepest part of you.

“You feel like a dream.” he sets the perfect rhythm slow enough to feel every inch of his shaft but fast enough for it to be the most pleasurable feeling you’ve both ever felt.

“Heeseung,” you whimper, scratching at his back lightly.

“Careful, darlin',” he warns you in a delicate voice.

You caressed his back over the part you had scratched. Your eyebrows creased, feeling the scared and resin skin against your fingertips.

He takes both your wrists in his hands, placing them lower around his waist to hide his wounds, and puts your legs on his shoulders, aiming his thrusts slightly upward inside you at the perfect angle, caressing your spot each time.

“I-is this okay? Does that feel good?” he grunts lowly, not being able to speak properly from the way your walls were gripping him so tightly.

“It feels perfect. You’re perfect.” you hug his body closer to yours.

He lowers his head, connecting your lips with his in a passionate kiss. Your warm breath tickles his face causing him to smile through the kiss as he rests his forehead against yours, reaching a hand down to your clit, rubbing up and down, matching the perfect pace of his strokes.

“Mmm, heeseung,” you whine against his lips, clenching down on him tightly as your second orgasm of the night washes over you all at the hands of your childhood crush.

“Y/n, I love you s-so much,” he says in a hushed voice, not being able to hold back anymore, releasing his seed deep inside you as the pulsation of your walls coaxed out every last drop of his love for you.

“I love you too,” you tell him wholeheartedly, giving him one final peck on his quivering lips. You wipe away a few tears from his cheek as he lowers your legs, relishing in the feeling of your throbbing walls against his shaft that guided him through the blissful journey that was you.

He gently removes himself from you, grabbing a few tissues on his nightstand to clean you off a bit. He cuddles up next to you once he’s finished cleaning you up.

“I don’t want you to go,” he pouts, hugging you with his arms and legs.

“Me neither, but if my parents found out, it wouldn’t be good.” You play with his bangs.

“Okay,” he says disappointedly, “I’ll walk you back home.” Somehow, he manages to finally let you out of his hold.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine-“ he places his index finger on your lips, cutting you off.

“I’m walking you home,” he says firmly.

Once you both finished getting dressed, you walked back to your home, which was many blocks away from his house.

Unfortunately, the walk felt so short, if you had it your way, you’d walk into forever with him.

“Well, I guess this is it, darlin.” he took your cold hands in his, swinging them back and forth, not wanting to let you go.

“Don’t be sad, hee I’ll wait for you tomorrow, same spot?” you kissed his cheek.

He smiled widely at the nickname you gave him all those years ago. His eyes crinkle into those cute little crescents you fell in love with all the way back in fifth grade. “Same spot.” he finally let you walk up to your door, waiting for you to get in safely.

He turns on his heels, walking alone in the dark. He takes heavy steps back home, and he can’t wait till tomorrow to see you again.

Out of habit, he reaches into his pocket, taking out a cigarette. Right before he strikes his lighter, he puts the cigarette back inside the box, choosing to count his footsteps instead of indulging in his unhealthy habit.

Same spot that’s where heeseung sat waiting for you, tapping his foot impatiently while he nervously puffs on his 7th cigarette while waiting nearly an hour for you.

You made your way to the same spot as every night, and heeseung was already waiting for you on the sidewalk.

He stood up to bring you in for a hug, but his hand landed right on a fresh bruise, causing you to wince in pain.

“What’s wrong? Did they?” He says softly, not wanting to upset you.

You nodded your head weakly.

He walked in the direction of your house, but you quickly held him back. “don’t.”

“They can’t just get away with that,” he says, trying his best to remain level-headed.

“Let’s not make this about them right now. I just want to be with you.” you cup his cheeks, placing a short kiss on his pouty lips.

“But-“ you cut him off with another kiss. He huffs in annoyance but still gives in to your wishes. “Fine, but you’re coming to my place. I’m not letting you stay with them.” he grabs your hand a bit harshly, but you know it wasn’t his intention and that he was just upset.

Finally, when you both reach his house, you enter his bedroom, and it instantly makes you feel safe.

You two lay together in his bed, comforting each other. “I still can’t believe it’s really you,” he says, breaking the silence.

“Me neither.” You lace your fingers with his, placing a kiss on the back of his hand. “you know I waited for you every day, but you never came back.”

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze and places a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m sorry for making you wait,” he says quietly.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault,” you assure him.

“I’m still sorry.” That was Lee Heeseung, too good, too caring for this cruel world, that he’d apologize for someone else behavior.

“You’re too good for your own good.” he lets out an airy laugh. “That’s why I love you cause no matter what happened, you always stayed the same. You never stopped caring for others, and you never stopped caring for me.”

“Don’t give me too much credit. I’ve never cared for anyone else the way I care for you, not even myself,” he tells you truthfully.

“I wonder what it would have been like,” you ask, caressing his knuckles with your thumb, “if you never had to leave.”

“I would have asked you to be my girlfriend. I would’ve left home sooner. I’d take you far away from here and show you what real love feels like and give you the life that you deserve.”

“Is it too late?” You ask.

“Too late for what?”

“For us,” you say, looking up at him with nothing but hope in your eyes.

“Darlin, it’s never too late. Just tell me when and where, and we can go. We can leave all of this behind. have the future we deserve and a chance at life that we never had cause our parents hate us.”

“I can’t leave them behind.”

“I think you’re too good for your own good, Darlin. They don’t deserve your love. Think about what makes you happy. I can’t promise you a life full of happiness cause this world works in unexplainable ways, but if you choose me, I can give you the one thing they can’t…” he tilts your head up, making you look at him, his eyes full of hope as he places a meaningful kiss to your soft lips and leans back stroking your cheek with his thumb uttering one word and emotion that you’ve never felt until you met him. “love”

“Can I have some time to think about it?” the idea sounded amazing. He’s all you’ve ever wanted, all you ever needed and to live a life with him full of love would be a dream come true.

“Take all the time you need. I left you before, but I’ll never leave you again. I’ll be there whenever you need me,” he promised.

“I love you so much I don’t deserve you,” you admit to him.

“I love you too, and Darlin, trust me when I say that you deserve way more than me.”

“I don’t want anyone more than you. You’re enough for me.” you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his chest and listening to his rhymatic heartbeat.

He stroked your back soothingly until you both drifted off to sleep a while later.

You woke up next to heeseung, who was now shirtless and pants less, then you remembered falling asleep before him, so he must have changed when you were sleeping.

Getting up, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up. You close the door quietly so as not to wake him.

You open the cabinets, looking to see if maybe he has an extra toothbrush. To your luck, he did when you reached for it, a small packet of pills fell into the sink.

You grab the packet and examine the pills. There was no indication of what the pills were, but you could only assume the worst. Making your way out of the bathroom, you approach his peaceful figure, shaking him awake when he doesn’t move. You panicked, thinking he might have done something while you were asleep. You start to shake him more aggressively, hitting his chest for him to wake up.

“Ow ow ow, I’m awake. I’m awake. Just stop hitting me,” he laughs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

You hugged on to him for dear life, bawling your eyes out. “hey, what’s wrong? Did you miss me that much?” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“I-I thought,” you stutter, unable to form any sentences cause what you thought he did while you were asleep.

“Thought what? Tell me, Darlin?” You show him the packet of pills, and his heart nearly drops at the sight he remembers the exact time and date he bought those. He had planned to overdose and kill himself he sat at a ledge as his legs dangle above the lake. He had the pills in his trembling hand, thinking back to all the times his father said he was useless and, his mother said she regretted giving birth to him, his teacher said he was waste of time, and his psychiatrist said maybe it was his fault for why his father beat him all of those thoughts were enough to make him want to end it all he held the pills to his mouth. But before he took them, he remembered you, the only person that ever needed him. He thinks back to the first time he gave you a red ring pop, the way your face lit up, and your smile gave him hope that even in sadness, you can still smile even if you don’t feel needed. Someone needs you, and that thought made him put the pills back in his pocket. He kept them in his cabinet as a daily reminder that he stayed on this earth for you.

“You don’t have to worry, Darlin. I told you I’ll never leave you again, and that’s a promise.”

You continued to sob uncontrollably into his chest. It took a good fifteen minutes for you to finally stop, and even then, your breaths were still labored and shaky.

“How did you find those anyways?” He asked, stroking your head.

“I just was l-looking for a spare toothbrush a-and I-I.” You broke down in tears again. He felt so bad for the chuckle he let out, but he found it too adorable how much you cared for him.

“Did you find one?” You nodded your head. “good, now go finish up. I’ll be waiting for you.” he pinched your cheek with a smile on his face. “I love you, and I swear I’d never ever think about doing that now that I’m with you, okay, Darlin?”

“Okay, I love you too.” You kiss him one last time before leaving.

You finished brushing your teeth and decided to take a shower as well. Once you were done, you entered the bedroom, seeing Heeseung leaning up against the headboard with a cigarette between his lips, legs slightly spread open, and he was still without any clothes.

“Hey, darlin', you took long enough,” he pouted.

“I decided to take a shower, too.”

“I can see that,” he bites his lower lip staring at your towel clad body. “Come here,” he says and pats his thigh.

You walk over to him, straddling his lap as your core comes in contact with his clothed cock. He sneaks his hands under your towel and grips your thighs, squeezing on the soft flesh as you rest your hands on his shoulders. He gently rocks you back and forth on his cock. “You smell really good.”

“Thank you.” You take your towel off, revealing your naked body. His tongue pokes the side of his cheek at the sight of your bare pussy, and you slowly grind on his lap, moaning from the feeling of his semi-hard cock.

You hum as he moves his hands to your chest, rubbing your breasts while his cigarette rests between his index and middle fingers.

He puts his hands on your lower back, making you grind on him harder.

“Fuck” he tilts his head back when he feels your wetness dampening his hard-on through his boxers.

You reach down between your bodies, grabbing his cock out through the small hole in his boxers as you guide his length, sliding him back and forth through your folds to get his cock wet.

He brought his cigarette to his mouth, taking a small puff, watching your each and every movement with hooded eyes.

You push the tip in, slowly sinking down on his cock inch by inch. “So fucking good” he rubs a hand over his face in disbelief at how tight and wet you were.

You start out slowly getting used to this feeling of him stretching you out. You lower yourself on his cock more, allowing his tip to brush against your sweet spot. “Heeseung,” you moan quietly.

The room is silent other than the wet sounds of your pussy when you bounce up and down on his dick.

You take the cigarette from between his lips, putting it to your own mouth before taking an inhale as you pick up the pace. “y/n,” he moans, holding your waist to help you ride him even faster, and he knows he's not going to last very long. You take a deep exhale, and the smoke clouds over your face before revealing the most beautiful sight he's ever seen, your lips slightly parted, chest covered in a thin layer of sweat, and your breasts bouncing up and down each time you take in his cock deeper. “Darlin, you’re perfect.”

You put the cigarette on the small ashtray on his nightstand to wrap your arms around his neck. You leaned down, placing a kiss on his lips as you moved your hands to the headboard to gain more leverage to fuck yourself on his cock at a much better angle. The slight position switch had him going feral. “Hee, oh god,” he grits his teeth at the sound of your desperate moans that make his cock twitch.

“I'm almost there,” he stutters out from the intense feeling of his cock getting harder as his high gets nearer.

He licks his thumb and reaches down to rub your clit in fast circles so you can both cum at the same time. You throw your head back, completely lost in the feeling of his big dick inside you.

“O-oh” The tight clenching of your walls made him lose it as his cum paints your sensitive throbbing walls.

“Heeseung,” you moaned loudly at the warmth from his release invading you, making you let go and tighten around his cock harshly as your pussy throbbed with each passing second you continued riding him till you both couldn’t take the overstimulation anymore.

He leans his head back, eyes tightly closed as he swallows thickly, feeling his throat parched from all the moaning and heavy breathing.

You place your hands on his chest, leaning down to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. When you pull away, his eyes slowly open as he takes a deep breath. He laughs breathily, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into your chest.

You cradle his head in your hands, running your fingers through his dampened hair. “do you want to shower?” You say in a hushed whisper.

He hums into your chest, tickling you and making little goosebumps form all over your body. “Only if you come with me.”

“Of course,” you kiss his damp head before lifting yourself off him carefully. You didn’t make a big deal out of cleaning up afterward cause you were headed to the shower anyway.

You both make your way to his shower. He turns his back to you, turning on the water. A surprised gasp escapes you when you see every inch of his back covered in scars. Tears instantly began to form in your eyes.

He hears your gasp and turns around to hide his back from you. He didn’t want you to see them cause he thought they were a sign of weakness.

“Why are you hiding them?” You ask.

“Cause I don’t want you to think I’m weak,” he says shamefully, looking down at his feet.

You place your hands on his shoulders, carefully turning him around so you can see his back. “what are you doing?” He tries to turn around, but you hold his waist, keeping him still.

“You’re not weak,” you kiss one of the many resin scars on his back. “You’re strong.” you kiss another one between his shoulder blades. “this is proof.” you rest your head against his back, feeling his shoulders trembling and a few quiet sobs coming from him as you hold his waist tighter, a few tears make their way down your cheek. “you’re the strongest person I know,” you say with your voice cracking at the end. “And I’m so sorry this happened to you,”

That’s when he finally lets it all out. He holds your arms that are wrapped around his waist tightly as the sounds of his cries echo off the tiles in the shower. Tears continuously fall from his eyes, mixing together with the warm water from the shower that spirals down the drain.

You hold him in silence until his cries finally start to fade away. He sniffles one last teardrop falling off the tip of his nose as he turns to you, pressing a kiss to your lips, feeling like a weight had been lifted off him now that he had someone to share his pain with. He cups your cheeks in his palms, wiping your tears away. “let’s not cry anymore. We’ve done enough of that for the day,” he laughs, causing you to laugh along with him. Now that the atmosphere was lightened, you both took turns washing each other’s bodies, feeling peace from the sound of the water beads that hit the tile.

Eventually, you both step out of the shower, drying each other off and going back to bed to spend as much time together as possible. “I don’t have any clothes,” you pout.

“Here, take my shirt.” he hands you a plain white oversized shirt that goes down to your knees.

He puts on a pair of black boxer briefs and joins you on the bed. “when do you have to be back by?” He holds your hand, kissing the back of it, looking at you with his big, brown, beautiful eyes.

“Not for another hour.”

“Good.” he lays down on the bed, throwing away the dirty sheets and pulling the blankets over you both, he opens his arms wide for you to cuddle him.

You both lay in complete silence, holding one another. No words needed to be spoken at that moment. As your hand rested on his chest and he stroked your arm, you both felt content.

Just as heeseung’s eyes began to close, a loud bang startled him from his resting state.

“Y/n! Open this door right now. I know you’re in there!”

You could recognize that voice from anywhere it was your father. “How did he find me?” Your heart raced, and tears welled in your eyes as you held on to heeseung as tightly as possible.

“I don’t know.” heeseung couldn’t help but feel a bit scared himself, but he knew he had to be strong for you. He tried to get up from the bed, but your grip was strong on him. “Darlin, I got you. It’s gonna be alright, I promise.” he held your shoulders, looking at your eyes deeply.

You nodded your head, letting him go to answer the door.

He answers the door to be met with your father face to face. It was the first time he had been this close to him, and it took everything in him not to punch your dad till he was unconscious.

“Who are you, and where do you have my daughter?”

Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh. He had some nerve showing up and saying his daughter when he had never treated you like that since you were born, “I’m nobody to you, and y/n is safe with me, so you can leave.”

“You fucking bastard, who are you to tell me what to do?” Your father raised his fist, punching heeseung square in the jaw.

Heeseung stood still, not even flinching from the impact of the punch. If there was one thing he could take, it was getting hit. “You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that.”

Your father raised his fist yet again, but heeseung was quick enough to catch it. “I don’t think you understood, so I’ll tell you again.” heeseung squeezed your father's fist tightly. “leave.”

You held your head in your hands, tears streaming down your face uncontrollably. You couldn’t take it anymore. heeseung got hurt because of you, and your father was angry all because of you. You had to end this now. You made your way to the door quietly. “Father, leave him alone. He has nothing to do with this.”

Your mother made an appearance from the hallway outside the door. Looking you up and down in disgust, “So this is what you leave home for to whore around? I always knew you were nothing but a little slut” she says with venom in her tone, taking in your half-naked appearance.

Heeseung was trying to be calm for you, but his resentment for your parents quickly overpowered that. “Don’t you dare fucking say that about her again,” he towers over your mother's frail frame.

“Or what? are you gonna hit me too?” Your mother taunted heeseung.

“I’ll never stoop to your level.” he unclenches his fist.

“Enough!” Your father raised his voice. “Y/n, get dressed. We’re leaving.

“She’s staying with me whether you two like it or not.” heeseung hid you behind his back, protecting you.

“I’d never leave my daughter with someone like you,” your mother chimed in.

“What is she to you then? your daughter? or a slut?” Heeseung used her own words against her.

Your mom raised her hand to slap heeseung, but he caught both her wrists, squeezing them but not enough to inflict any pain. “She. Is. Staying. With. me. I can take care of her better than the both of you combined. Does she look like she’s scared of me? Does she have any new bruises besides the ones you left her with last? I don’t fucking think so” Heeseung let go of your mother's wrist.

“Y/n, I won’t tell you again. Get dressed. We’re leaving,” you cower down at the sound of your dad's voice.

You tug on heeseung’s shirt, indicating for him to let you go.

Heeseung glared at the both of them before closing the door and looking at you.

“Y/n, you can’t be serious about going back,” he says in disbelief.

“Heeseung, just let me go,” you reply, completely defeated.

“No, I told you I’m never leaving you again.” he holds your face, making you stare into his eyes.

“Are you okay?” You asked, heeseung with tears in your eyes, noticing the cut on his lip.

“Darlin, compared to what I’ve felt in the past that didn’t even tickle, your man can take a hit,” he chuckles.

You look at him, a smile forming on the corner of your lips. “I’m scared.”

“I know, and that’s okay.” he holds your hands, squeezing them gently. “Look at me.” he stares deeply into your eyes to show his sincerity. “I know I said I’d give you all the time you need, but right now, we don’t have time, and I need you to choose.”

“I can’t leave them behind.”

His heart shatters at the idea of you going back to them. “Darlin, I know it’s hard to leave. It was hard for me too, but if I had never left my parents, I don’t know where I’d be if I continued to let them abuse me, but I know one thing I would have never found you again. What I’m saying is maybe when you hurt for so long, you encounter something good. Maybe I’m that good. Maybe I’m that person to make you feel again, maybe I’m the one to give you the love you deserve cause hell, we both know you’re the most lovable person on earth.”

His words make you smile and realize that he’s right. You loved your parents to death, but it was hurting you. You couldn’t stay any longer. If they loved you, they would never treat you the way they have all these years, and heeseung made you realize that all these years of hurt were at the hands of your parents and he was the only one to ever make you happy even when he was hurting he still made sure to cheer you up everyday and go out of his way to make you smile there was no excuse for your parents even when times got hard they could still find a way to show you they cared and they never did, but heeseung showed up when you needed him the most, and the answer had never been more clear than it is now.

He cups your cheek in his palms. “Darlin, if I promised forever, would you run away with me?” He looks at you in hopes that you’ll give him the answer he so desperately needs.

“Yes,” you said with absolutely zero hesitation.

He presses his forehead against yours. “I promise”

Another loud bang was heard on the door. “Hurry up, or else the punishment will be doubled!”

The loud banging interrupted your moment together, but it was time to leave. heeseung put on his pants and quickly grabbed his keys, making his way towards the window. “come on,” he reached for your hand, helping you out the window and following you close behind.

You both ran to his car, and he started the engine, looking to his right side. “I love you.” he held your hand in his and sped off into the distance. He had no idea where he was headed, but anywhere was better than there.

“I love you too.”

Your father busts down the Door to see the sheer white curtain swaying back and forth and the window wide open “shit!” He yells, holding his head in his hands before he begins to destroy everything in the house, looking for any trace of something heeseung may have left behind, but he finds nothing.

Your mother sits down in the corner, crying her eyes out, rocking back and forth with her hands in her hair and deep, deep down inside, regretting everything that she had ever done to harm you. The only thing that brought her some type of comfort was the look of happiness in your eyes when that unknown boy protected you, and maybe he was right. Maybe he could take better care of you than both of them combined.

Heeseung drove for hours until he reached a hotel, parking in the empty lot. You both made your way to the desk, getting a single room. heeseung held your hand, walking you to room 205, unlocking the door with the key card. He let out a sound of relief once he got inside. He had been driving for 6 hours straight. You lay next to him on the bed, hugging his waist. “Are you okay, darlin?” He asks, holding you impossibly close.

“I think so.” you clutched onto his sweater, tears staining the fuzzy material.

“Do you think they’ll come looking for us?” heeseung says.

“Let’s hope they won’t.”

“Me too,” he sighs. “What do you want to do for the rest of the night?”

“Can we just sleep?” You look up at him through your wet eyelashes.

“Of course, Darlin, I love you.”

“I love you too, hee.”

The next morning, you wake up to the countless messages and voice recordings from your dad. Every last one of them contained hateful comments, and when you listened to the voicemail, you heard your father loud and clear telling you never to come back and that you weren’t his daughter anymore. You couldn’t help but tear up from the voicemail. Your own parents abandoned you without any remorse, and that broke your heart into pieces that could never be put back together.

Heeseung stirred in his sleep. The sound of your sorrowful cries woke him up. “Darlin, what’s wrong?” You handed him the phone, and he listened to the recording. He clenched his jaw, slamming the phone on the nightstand.

Even though he was absolutely furious, a part of him was still relieved that you wouldn’t be in their life anymore, but at the same time, it hurt him beyond words cause he knew just how much you were hurting.

“You’re better off without them.” he brings your trembling body into his arms.

“You think so?” You hug him back.

“Darlin, I know so.” he made a promise to himself then and there that he’d do anything it took to make you happy again.

“Heeseung, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been alone before.” You pour out your worries to him.

“And you’re still not alone. You have me forever. I promise even if you didn’t have me, you’d still make it on your own cause you’re the strongest person I know.”

“Heeseung, thank you,” you tell him sincerely. He’s really been there for you through so much and words couldn’t describe how thankful you were for him.

“No, darlin', thank you for everything. I’d never be here today if it wasn’t for you.”

“What do you mean?” You ask softly.

“I wanted to die when I was without you, and when I made the decision to take my own life, I thought about every memory I had with you right before I swallowed those pills you found. I remembered your smile and knowing that you were still out there waiting for me on this horrible earth is what kept me going, and the crazy hopes I'd meet you again, now here we are in each other's arms getting ready to spend forever with each other.”

“Hee-“

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m okay, we’re okay.” he sends a tiny smile your way.

“We’re okay,” you repeated, assuring yourself.

“Darlin, I know it’s soon but let’s try to move on. Let’s do something to celebrate our first day together. Hmm?

“Like what?”

“Anything you want,” he says enthusiastically.

“Surprise me”

“A surprise you will get.” he kissed your forehead softly before getting ready.

After you both got ready, heeseung and you walked to a small lake, hand in hand, feet dangling over a wooden bridge as you watched the sunset.

“I know this is crazy, but after I met you after all these years, I feel like living again.” he rests his head on your shoulder. “And strangely enough, living on this earth doesn’t hurt me anymore,” he admits.

“What hurts you the most now?” Your question takes you back to the day he came into your life again.

“The thought of losing you,” he whispers.

“Well, you don’t have to hurt anymore cause you’re never going to lose me.” You promise him.

Silence ensues as you both throw tiny pebbles into the lake, watching the small ripples they create.

“Hee?”

“Yeah, Darlin?”

“Thank you for making me feel again. Thank you for showing me what love truly feels like.”

He tried his hardest to hold back his tears but failed miserably. “thank you for letting me be that person for you.”

“Do you think we have a chance for a better life?”

“I know it’s hard to tell right now, but we already have a better life, darlin',” he softly caressed your knee.

“We do, don’t we?”

“Yes,” he kissed you briefly, “wait here. I’ll be right back.”

He stands up, dusting off his pants. You wait for him, watching the sunset, thinking about the future with him, and you can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him by your side now and forever.

He came back shortly, hiding something behind his back.

He sat down next to you, handing you a red ring pop. “you haven’t smiled since we left.”

He was right. Your mind was too focused on everything else that it was hard to think about how you’d actually be spending the rest of your life with your best friend, your lover, and your savior.

You took off the wrapper, bringing the ring pop to your lips, the sweet taste bringing back so many memories, causing a smile to creep up on your face instantly, and heeseung watched you in silence, a smile finding its way to his face as well.

“That’s what I like to see, darlin.” He wrapped his arm around your waist as the cool breeze gave you both a sense of peace.

Obviously, things weren’t going to be perfect within the blink of an eye, but with him, you felt like it wouldn’t take long to get past all the bad memories and replace them with new ones.

Good ones.

Things would be hard, but at least now you had someone to confide in and be there for you when you needed someone the most. You’d always cherish him forever. Not a day would go by when you didn’t shower him with endless love and care.

Heeseung knew it would take some time for you, just like it took for him, but he was willing to wait. He spent ten years without you, so he could wait a few months for you to get back on your feet without a problem.

One thing he was for sure about was no matter what happened or how long it took, he’d wait for you cause you were worth every second, you saved him from the world, his parents, and himself, and he owed you his life for it.

“Y/n, will you be mine?” He says out of the blue.

“I’m already yours, hee,” you say, gazing into his eyes softly.

“I know, but I want to hear you say so. Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks in all seriousness.

“Yes, heeseung, I’d love to be your girlfriend.” You smile for the second time that day, and you swear you could get used to this.

“I can’t wait to spend forever with you,” he says, reaching into his coat pocket and tossing his last pack of cigarettes into the lake throwing away the last bit of his old life.

“And I can’t wait to spend forever with you, too.” You kiss his cheek.

“Look, I know it’s far from the perfect love story, but I swear to you I’ll do everything to make it as perfect as I can.”

“It’s already perfect hee, just you being here next to me right now is perfect.”

He looks at you, pulling you closer by the neck to give you a deep, loved, filled kiss.

He pulls away, smiling so wide that it almost hurts.

“Darlin, we have this earth to ourselves now. We can do anything we want whenever we want, however we want.”

“So, what’s the first thing that you want to do?” You ask, smiling at him.

“Walk into forever with you.” he looks at your sparkling eyes, taking the ring pop from out of your hand and placing it on your ring finger.

You kiss his lips one last time, leaning back slowly and opening your eyes as he smiles at you with a fond, loving look.

He stands up, takes your hand in his, and walks you down the length of the bridge. Right as the sun sets behind you, you both share one final kiss, sealing this moment in your hearts now and forever.

In this life and in the next, you’d always be by his side and he’d always be by yours.

“Welcome to forever, Darlin.”

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[vibingandsimping]

I always feel so awkward/flustered requesting things, but the bg3 brain rot is so real. Could I ask for specifically Gale’s, and/or also anyone else of your choice (if you want obvs), like reaction to a virgin!Tav, like never had more than a peck on the hand or cheek inexperienced? I’m just absolutely feral over a shy, never been kissed Tav and companions~~~

Tav is just like me, fr. I appreciate you pushing your comfort zone and asking. Never feel ashamed to request something on my blog. <3

I liked this idea so will count it towards my second follower goal special. Funny how both of them ended up being Gale requests, honestly. Attempted to keep it gender neutral.

Word count: Around 2,000

Forewarnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, partial loss of virginity, oral (receiving), undergarment stealing, porn with little plot.

Gale, himself, had been quite inexperienced before Mystra. He just had himself so deeply rooted in his books and studies he thought the time was… wasted. It wasn’t that he couldn’t seek a partner, no, he just didn’t fare the effort. Mystra sought him out and how in the hells could he turn a literal goddess down? That relationship burned and crashed. Honestly, he was thankful for it now. He met you. You struck him like no other. You were more than Mystra. So when feelings reciprocated? Gale was elated.

He judged on your nerve that you either found him stunning, or, you lacked experience. He thought the latter. Whenever he held your hand and gazed into your eyes you seemed to shake. It was cute. His palm cupping your cheek and you’d flush so deeply he’d fear you suddenly fell ill. Often times, you’d break it off before things escalated beyond a hand holding or a gentlemanly kiss. Gale didn’t take to it harshly, at first. He yearned for your skin, your lips, your touch. He tried to make that clear in his language. Hands reaching for you more often, bodies closing the distance. He’d never push too far, though. Gale’s shame would be immense if he scared you.

Some gentle probing finally pulled some truth from you, one evening. You were a virgin. Never even having been kissed before. He wasn’t sure whether to comfort you or take a primal hunger in the idea of being your first. Lips and body, hopefully. He brushed it off initially, saying that he’d tend to your needs when you were ready. His words lingering in the air as he made it apparent that he craved you. Lusted and loved, in every sense. You nearly combusted and stammered. Gods, you were going to be his ruin. Mystra, forgive him but he believed you more enchanting than she ever was.

The first time he tasted your lips was under the guise of moonlight. Northern lights dancing in the sky as the moment you shared tender. You relaxed in the privacy and comfort of him. He bore his heart to you that night. Explaining his fears- his worries and his longing. It was shocking to see you make the first move, your hand cupping his face this time. You drew him in and he closed the distance. He swore he was flying when he pressed against the plush of your lips. Moving in and out, feeling the breath of each other dance along skin. His hand reached out and rested on your knee. You covered it with your own, grasping it in your hold. Fingers interlocked and he took the initiative to deepen the moment. His tongue flicked against your lips and the whimper that followed made him shiver.

As soon as it happened, he pulled away with a pant. Doe-brown eyes searching your expression as his mind raced. “I apologize if I am taking things too far or too fast. Your beauty strikes me and all I wish is for this moment to last an eternity.” You laugh, squeezing his hand reassuringly. Then, you shake your head and draw him in closer. “No, it’s okay. I think i’m ready. I want you, Gale.” His nostrils flare at the words and he steels himself, watching you intently. Nerve trickled in your voice but there was no outward hesitancy in your desires. He sits for a moment and soaks everything in. The satisfaction and sight of you presenting yourself to him. Vulnerable and so willing. He trailed his free hand to your shoulder and gently pushed you onto the grass. Intertwined hand next to your head as he claims your lips once more.

You could only lay and enjoy the sensation he was giving you. His fingers tickling down your shoulder to your chest. He was more than happy to lead you in this dance of pleasure. It would pave a path into many nights where you could enjoy each other. He’d be able to forget what it was like imagining your flesh. His tongue parted your lips and licked at your own tongue. You exhaled a sharp breath through your nostrils, sloppily trying to reciprocate. He smirked a little and continued to guide you as his hand lowered to where your sleep-shirt rested at your hips. His fingers were a little cold from the air as he slipped underneath it to feel your stomach. Gale parted from your lips to your jaw, continuing his love there down to your neck. Arousal from the touch of another was strange- but definitely not unwelcome. Gods, no, it’s so welcome. Your thighs clenched as he kissed over a particularly sensitive spot of your neck. Seemingly noticing your shift, he nibbles and sucks on it. The sensation causes you to gasp and writhe underneath him.

His palm presses flat on your stomach, using his strength to keep you still. Once he finds enough satisfaction after leaving a hickey, his lips trail down to your shoulder. A final kiss is left and he lifts himself to meet your gaze. His lips are wet and a tad swollen as his lids are halved. The sight made your loins tingle. It spoke all lust and admiration. He took such pleasure in watching and feeling you succumb to his touch. He nods downward at you, gesturing to your shirt and you nod in return. With the confirmation, he slips your shirt over your head and soaks the sight of you topless in. You can feel him shake a little as he hovers over your body. He lowers himself and slides downward to plant kisses against your collarbone. They follow to the middle of your ribs until he’s level with your nipples. He looks upwards through his eyebrows as he wraps his lips around one. You keen- arching your back as he suckles while his fingers tend to the neglected.

You hardly notice when his lips meet your lower stomach. Reaching to your pelvis as he slowly works your pants down your legs. You help him by shimmying your hips- and he groans in satisfaction when the skin is revealed. His hands contact your thighs and hold you down while he continues kissing along your pelvis- tickling the undergarments you wore. Your breath hitched and fingers twitched at the grass underneath you. Torn between admiring the sky or him as he worked your body so beautifully. A nibble caught your daze and you whimpered. He parted and cherished in the kisses and little marks he’d left. “Love,” he whispered and you craned your neck to look at him, “It is not too late to stop. I won’t force this upon you.” Admittedly, you paused for a moment and stared at him. Smiling and reaching out, his face was cupped in your hand. “No. I want this.” He visibly perked.

“Then, may I?” His fingers slipped under the waistband and tugged. You nodded with a twinkle of amusement. The cold air on your sensitive flesh made you hiss- but he was quick. Fingers and tongue meeting with little hesitance. You jerked at the sensation and he simply hummed, easing you down. It seemed he waited a moment for you to adjust before working his magic (pun intended). His tongue licked and worked you in circles while his fingers explored the flesh around. Your thighs, your rear- anything he could touch. He was keen to listen to your whimpers and observe your movements. He’d stop when you’d flinch and he’d continue when you moaned. Quite honestly, the coil in your stomach twisted and wound faster than you’d anticipate. He collected the mix of your arousal and his saliva onto his fingers. They circled your entrance and gently prodded, allowing you time to recognize his desire through the haze that was pleasure. It didn’t come easy when he started to push them in- no, you tensed and cried out. Gale continued working your sex while his spare hand caressed your flesh comfortingly. Once he was past the first ring- everything began to slowly ease.

His eyes watched you carefully as he slowly began to explore the inside of you. You were thankful for how patient he was being. Stopping whenever it seemed to overwhelm you and continuing when the stillness became unbearable. It was a few minutes before you could finally find a deeper pleasure in the touch rather than the discomfort or pain. He hummed approvingly against your sensitive parts- and you whined. His fingers were relatively thick but mostly long. They searched inside you until your body writhed as he brushed against a spot that made your eyelids flutter. It was over after that, he didn’t miss a heartbeat adjusting his tune to increasing the intensity of his mouth and tongue while abusing it with his fingers. You couldn’t contain the depraved sounds you made after that. Gripping at whatever you could; settling on his hair with tight white knuckles. Breaths were shallow as everything came to a crescendo and- crashed. It crashed hard. You were a writhing mess under him as a strangled cry cut from your throat.

Gale happily licked and cleaned up any mess you made as he worked you through your orgasm. Thighs clenching and unclenching around his head as he milked you of all you’re worth. He pulled away when the brink of overstimulation set in, wiping at his face with a grin-eating smirk. You lay like a fish out of water, riding the high and twitching with aftershocks. The man curled up beside you and cooed comfortingly in your ear while you recovered. You could feel his erection press into your skin through his robe but he paid no mind. He laid with you for however long until you could breathe and think with some sort of clarity. Recognizing that, he spoke. “Beautiful, truly beautiful. I have craved to see that for ages now. Yet, nothing my imagination could supply would have compared to it.” He laughed softly while you melted at the sound. “Do you need some… erm-“ You gestured towards the mass against your leg. He blinked, looked downward and smiled bashfully. “No,” he claimed and you blinked in shock. “I wore you out thoroughly with that. I will be fine- there are opportunities ahead. It will make it all the sweeter. Besides, I want you to cry my name out next time.” He shushed any rebuttal you had with a kiss. Soft yet passionate- with the aftertaste of you on his lips.

He grabbed your discarded garments and began to wipe the rest of the mess from between your thighs. You flinched and shivered at the touch of the highly-alert flesh. He kissed your ear tenderly to reassure you before curling the fabric into a ball and pocketing it. You gave him a pointed look- questioning. “Keepsake.” He muttered with a blush. A shiver ran down your spine at the perversion of the act. Yet, it made you feel so desired all the same. “Do you need anything? Food or water?” His eagerness to confirm your comfort made your chest swell. You shook your head and claimed you only wanted to relax with him. Gale visibly softened at that, almost awestruck. He assisted you back into your clothing and fixed your sex-messed hair. The night was still after that. Wrapped in his arms as his breath washed over you from the proximity. His fingers danced along your skin and traced unknown shapes. Everything felt as close to perfect as you’ve gotten in… a long while. You knew you couldn’t stay there the entire night. It just felt right to enjoy the rest of the moment with him til you had to return. Return to the madness that was your current life.

For now, you could forget the tadpole. You could forget anything that wasn’t the feeling of his warm body pressed to yours and the afterglow of everything that occurred.

[swanimagines]

WALLS | KAZ BREKKER

Summary: Kaz has been closed off in your relationship from the very start, and you trying to talk about it makes him shut off. But there's always the next day.

You and Kaz had been dating for a while - you thought you knew what you signed up for when you asked Kaz if he’d like to be your boyfriend and he warned you about not being able to be a boyfriend you see on the streets. But even after months, he was still just as closed off as he was when you started dating, and you decided to take it up on the table.

“Kaz?”

He glanced up to you briefly from the table, still writing his notes to his plans. “Hm?”

You swallowed, trying to figure out the words. “I… um, I feel like our relationship is one-sided.”

Kaz paused for a moment, slowly lifting his eyes to you and narrowing his eyes slightly. “What do you mean, one-sided?”

“I mean,” you started, thinking over your words again. “I feel like I’ve been opening up to you, I’ve shared my thoughts with you, my feelings, but you haven’t. I… I know it’s hard for you, I do, but it still feels like there’s a… wall in between us?”

Kaz took in a deep breath, his eyes going back on the blueprint. "You knew what I was like before we got together," he then said. "I never promised you a fairytale romance."

"I know, and I accepted that," you replied, trying to keep frustration off your voice. "But that doesn't mean I don’t have needs in this relationship too. I can't keep pouring my heart out while you keep most of yourself locked away. It's exhausting."

Kaz let out a sigh, his shoulders tensing up. "I’ve let you see a side of myself most people will never see. You said it will be enough. What else would you want from me?"

You sighed. “To let me get closer to you. For you to trust me enough to let me see beyond that wall of yours. I want to be there for you, but I can’t do that unless you let me close.”

Kaz took in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. “I can’t change overnight just because you demand it.”

“I’m not asking you to–”

Kaz interrupted you. “This is who I am and if you can’t bear that, then maybe we shouldn’t be together.”

Your eyes widened at that, and you quickly shook your head. “No, Kaz, don’t say that.”

“You’re just a distraction I won’t be able to have right now,” Kaz retorted, tracing his finger along the blueprint.

You fell silent for a moment, his words echoing in your ears.

Distraction.

“Distraction? Is that all that I am to you?” you whispered, swallowing.

Kaz’s jaw clenched. “That’s not what I said.”

“Well, it sure sounded like that,” you murmured, your voice breaking slightly. The next words poured out through your lips before you had time to think them over. “Maybe it’s time that you stop pretending you care about anything else than yourself and your damn heists.”

Kaz’s eyes snapped up to you, and he scoffed. “You think you understand me? You have no idea what I’ve gone through to get into this position.”

You shook your head, your hand slightly inching towards Kaz’s, but he pulled his hand away. You closed your eyes for a moment, retreating your hand too. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that, but… I’m trying to understand, Kaz, but I can’t understand if you won’t let me in.”

He huffed. “Letting people in only leads to betrayal and disappointment, I learned that long ago.”

You stared at him, and then slowly stood up, the chair legs scraping against the wooden floor. “You think I’ll disappoint you?”

"You're naive if you think this could ever work," Kaz said, clenching his hands to fists, the leather creaking from the pressure. "I don't have time for distractions, and you'll only end up getting hurt."

That was it. Your tears started spilling, and you looked up at the roof before you willed yourself to look at Kaz again, who had lowered his gaze back to the blueprint. You scoffed at how he didn’t even look at you.

"Fine," you choked out. "If that's how you feel, then maybe you're right. Maybe I am just a distraction to you, and maybe we shouldn’t be together."

Kaz lifted his gaze again but you had already turned your back to him, marching towards his office door. He tried to force himself to call after you, but instead, he just stared as you slammed the door closed.

The sound of the door slamming echoed around his office, and he let out a silent groan, listening to your fading footsteps going down the stairs. You’d probably stay the night at someone else’s room at the Slat, you had looked way too angry to sleep next to his bed tonight.

Sure enough, when Kaz made his way to the Slat some hours later, you were nowhere to be seen in your shared room at the attic. He stood there for a moment, before shedding off his coat and started preparing for the bed, soon finding himself under his black sheets. He glanced towards your bed, as if to hope you’d magically appear there, but as you hadn’t, he turned off the oil lamp and turned to his side, closing his eyes.

—

Horse hooves on the stoned street made Kaz stir awake, the dim sunlight through the thick clouds lighting up his room. He opened his eyes and turned - and saw you sleeping in your bed. Your back was towards him, he had no idea if you were awake or still asleep, and Kaz knew he’d rather not find out whether you were still as angry as yesterday. He knew he should talk to you once you’d wake up, and he should also get up from the bed - but his Dirtyhands side was strongly against it.

Dirtyhands did not apologise.

But in this case, maybe Kaz Brekker should let Kaz Rietveld in with you.

With a sigh, he stood up and went to his wardrobe, changing off his pyjamas. He was buttoning up his waistcoat when he heard you groan and stir, the sheets rustling as you brought your hand up to rub your eyes.

Kaz turned to look at you, but you hadn’t yet noticed him standing there. He debated whether he should speak up or wait until you were fully awake, but then you sat up as you yawned. Your eyes finally met his, and you froze.

The room turned quiet for a moment, the weight of tension filling the room. Both of you just stared at each other, things said the previous day weighing down on you - both of you being unsure if you meant what you said to each other.

Kaz took in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “I shouldn’t have said those things, I should have listened to you. It was wrong of me to dismiss your feelings like that.”

You frowned and brought your hands in front of you. “You’re apologising?”

Kaz nodded slowly. “I am. I… I believe I didn’t think a relationship should be a two-way road. I like hearing you tell me about your day, how I make you feel, how happy I made you on your birthday - I didn’t think I should return it.”

You stared at him for a moment longer. “I want to be there for you, Kaz. But it’s been difficult when you’re pushing me away - and yesterday proved the reason why I hadn’t talked about it before, you immediately made your walls rise up when I tried to talk with you.”

Kaz stepped closer to the bed, hesitating for a moment but then grazing your arm with the tips of his fingers. “You’ve never been a distraction, nor you are a burden.”

You nodded, smiling softly at him before you carefully linked your pinky with his. “Apology accepted. I love you.”

Kaz froze. It was the first time you said it - you love him. He took in a shaky breath, and you blinked, shaking your head. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean to overwhelm–”

“I love you too,” he forced himself to get out, and it felt like something heavy pressing down his heart was just lifted when now you, in turn, froze. Then, a wide smile emerged to your face, and Kaz’s smile mirrored it a few seconds after.

For that morning, you sat there together like two lovesick teenagers you were - and the gloomy city of Ketterdam felt sunnier than ever.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[dollish-shard]

A Good Maid

It had seemed so simple at the time. A job as a maid for some rich woman's manor, while you got yourself back on your feet. The pay was decent; enough, at least, to outweigh the indignity. You could clean, do housework. It would be easy.

The first sign something was off was Her.

The Mistress of the Manor; She refused to be called by any other title. She was... intoxicating. The way Her hair fell over Her shoulders, Her deep and captivating eyes, even Her smell... You'd never considered yourself a lesbian before, and yet...

She gave you your uniform. It was a stereotypical thing, like out of some fanservicey anime. You hesitated for a moment, but then She looked you in the eyes...

"Get in uniform, Maid."

You must have complied, because the next thing you knew you had it on.

You tried not to think about the lacey lingerie underneath your dress. Why that was part of the uniform you had no idea.

The other maids in the manor seemed odd, at first. They moved strangely, gliding silently and effortlessly down the spotless halls.

hey didn't chat with each other on the job, or during downtime, like you'd expected. They were quiet, obedient, almost emotionless.. it was almost creepy.

The Mistress of the Manor had come to check on you all, once. Every other maid stood up and lined up in unison.

You had hastily run to join them, half an inch out of formation.

She inspected them closely; perhaps too closely. Groping their breasts, feeling under their skirts... they never once complained. You began to feel uncomfortable, but then She got to you...

When She lay Her hand on your breast, it was like electricity through your whole body. Any dissent you had melted away as you leaned wholeheartedly into the pleasure, a moan escaping your lips. But then She pulled away, and frowned.

"A maid doesn't speak unless directed to."

You struggled to find thoughts, what to say in response. Your mind was hazy... before you knew it, you had spoken.

"Of course, Miss."

She reached greedily for your breast again, and the pleasure returned. This time you did not make a sound, and She smiled. "Good maid."

The praise struck through your mind like a bolt of pure pleasure, and your perception was lost to a haze. When you came to, She was gone, and you were midway through dusting the sitting room. You tried to remember what had happened, but all that came to mind was...

"Good maid."

The days passed in a haze. You followed your orders, as a maid ought to. Something felt wrong... but it wasn't your place to question it. You were just a maid... right?

It wasn't until you finally saw a calendar that your mind snapped somewhat out of the fog.

You had only signed up to work as a maid for 3 months, but... it had been almost a year. How had you lost track of time? Had you... even been home since you got here? You couldn't remember... it was so hard to think, good maids didn't think...

You shake your head and march off.

You barge into the Mistress's office, demanding to know what's going on. She raises Her eyebrow and stands, your mind beginning to fuzz up.

"Good maids don't put up a fuss. I thought you wanted to be a good maid?"

You... did you want to be a good maid? You couldn't remember...

She leans in close, Her intoxicating scent filling your nostrils. "You wouldn't have chosen to stay if you didn't want to... but you're not being a good maid right now. You need to be punished."

You tried to run, tried to hit her, do anything, but all that came out was-

"Of course, Miss. A good maid accepts its punishment."

That must have been true. Why would you have said it, otherwise?

She smiled. "I'm glad you've seen reason, maid." She leaned towards you, and you felt a prinprick on your neck. Your vision went fuzzy, and then-

When you came to, it was pitch black. You were blindfolded; more than that, you were bound. You were hung upside down, dangling who knows how high in the air, your arms and legs tightly bound, a ball gag in your mouth and headphones over your ears.

You shivered, and realized you were almost completely naked.

Then the buzzing started. A vibrating in between your legs, a soft, steady, building heat... you blushed, you know you did, but you couldn't do anything. It grew, and grew... and then held. Just on the edge.

You would have moaned if not for the gag. the buzzing held you there, orgasm just out of reach...

A low droning came through the headphones, underneath a steady pulsing beat. The panic that had begun to build in you faded away. You started to feel... happy. Compliant.

A voice came through the headphones. Her voice.

"Good maids obey. Bad maids are punished." "Good maids don't think. Bad maids are punished." "Good maids are horny. Bad maids are punished."

Over and over, Her voice, seeping into your mind... You found yourself following along.

"Good maids obey. Bad maids are punished." "Good maids don't think. Bad maids are punished." "Good maids are horny. Bad maids are punished."

Over and over and over. Kept constantly in denial, your brain leaking out your legs as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

"Good maids forget the past. Good maids have always been maids."

You felt warm hands run across you. You would have gasped, flinched, anything, but your bindings made it impossible.

"Good maids are objects of pleasure. Good maids let their Mistress play with them."

The hands continued, and with every loop of the words you grew less concerned. This was normal. This was natural. A good maid always let their Mistress play with it. And you... you were a good maid. You had been a bad maid, but you were learning.

You weren't sure how long you hung there, in darkness with the words filling your mind. It didn't really matter. The pleasure had long since overwhelmed all thoughts but one. That you had to be a good maid, and obey.

You barely even noticed when you were finally taken down.

You haven't rebelled since, naturally. Good maids obey, after all. You move in perfect unison with your fellow maids, nothing but objects to perform Her will. She touches you, plays with you, and you let Her willingly, because good maids don't resist.

You are a good maid. You've always been a good maid.

You will always be a good maid.

[jeankluv]

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 19

words: 3,8k

summary: While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as " hate " was a strong word, rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths. Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.

tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball, Gojo needs a hug

notes: it’s been quite some time since I updated right? I feel bad for not posting new chapters, but life is kinda busy. Also some major events are about to happen on the next Birdie chapters and also I think there might be between 10-15 chapters left with everything I have planned. But don’t worry bc a new Gojo fic is coming soon!

materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist | ao3

You rolled down the window of Satoru's car and enjoyed the smell of the sea that began to fill your nostrils. You had left Tokyo early that day, so you could get to your destination on time. You had spent the previous night with Satoru so he wouldn't have to pick you up and you could go straight from his apartment.

The traffic wasn't too heavy and your journey was becoming pleasant, while the GPS's voice told Satoru which routes he should take to get there. Closing your eyes, you let yourself be invaded by the sensations, enjoying the warm day at the end of May and the smell of salt water.

“We will be there in 20 minutes.” Satoru broke the silence inside the car, you looked at him and hummed in response. “You mentioned you were raised here right? What was it like?”

“It was…” You started thinking.

Memories of your childhood and teenage years came to you, the hot summers where you went to the beach with your grandmother, the ice creams before returning home. Those distant and almost erased memories with your mother, which you remembered with love and affection.

But not all of them were good memories, because you also remembered the glances, the whispers of people watching you walk and how everything became stronger and stronger with the passing of the years. And you still feel in your bones the worst memory you have of that place, one that you wanted to bury with all your might at the bottom of the sea.

That was why perhaps you wanted to bring the people you loved to that place, because you wanted to flood it with happy and beautiful memories.

“Good…” You simply said. “I can’t wait to show you around.” You smiled at him and he gave you a brief look before smiling back at you.

The car felt silent once again and a feeling started to grow on your chest. As much as you wanted to hide it, you were tense and anxious over that trip, not because Satoru was going there but because of what happened last year.

It made you sick to your stomach and you didn’t want to go through it again. You didn’t want Satoru to met him. To meet your father. You wanted to show Satoru so many things, but the idea of ​​walking and running into him made your hair stand on end.

Your memory drifted to one year ago, when you went with Kyoko.

1 year ago

“Should we buy some ice creams before going back to the motel?” Kyoko suggested as both of you were packing the towels.

“Sounds good.” You said as you closed your bag.

You started walking, Kyoko walking beside you. The two of you chatted animatedly as the hot summer sun hit your skins. You had gotten a few days off and you had decided to spend them with your best friend, in a place that you held dear to your heart. But Kyoko was someone important and deserved to get to know you better.

You walked to the ice cream stand near the beach when you heard a deep voice calling your name. At first, you didn't notice, but a shiver ran through you when you realized who it was, who the owner of that voice was.

You turned slightly and felt a sharp pain in your head, painful enough to make you close your eyes and bring one of your hands to your head.

Kyoko called you out. “Are you okay?” She said with worry.

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” But your name came out of his throat once again.

“You okay?”

You snorted and stood up. “What do you want?” You said as dryly as possible, without showing an ounce of emotion.

“I… I saw you and I wanted to check on you.”

You tried not to laugh. “Well, don’t do it.” You turned around and looked at him again. “Come closer again and I’ll call the police, you have a restraining order. Remember it.”

He called you out again. “What happened back then… was a terrible mistake and I’m sorry.” He said and you closed your eyes, trying to shut everything down. “I was desperate for money and I thought…”

“You thought going back to the daughter you abandoned, who was completely alone and take away all her money when she was just 17, was okay?!” You shouted, Kyoko took your hand, trying to calm you down. “And on top of that…” You turned around and looked at him. “You already forgot what you took from me?!”

You looked at him with tears rolling down your face and feeling the curious eyes of everyone around.

Present day

“Birdie…” You felt a small touch on your cheek and the present hit you again.

Your eyes met his, he was looking at you. Like always. But his gaze reflected his worried look. You tried to smile, despite feeling shaken by the memories that just hit your head.

“You okay?” He whispered softly. “You seemed to be drifting away.”

You shook your head and slowly blinked. “Yeah… it was nothing.”

He nodded and placed a kiss on your cheek. “Good… we arrived at the hotel…”

You looked outside and yeah, you were there. The door opened and Satoru’s hand appeared in front of you, surprising you on how fast he got himself out of the car.

Satoru took your hand and walked before you and was the one that took care of everything at the hotel. You tried to be there, but honestly your mind felt like it was somewhere else. You found it difficult to concentrate. You had assured Kyoko that your escape would be peaceful, but at that moment your mind was failing you again, filling up with ideas or scenarios that could happen.

Satoru's warm hand gave you a security that you needed but still wasn't enough in that moment of internal despair. You didn’t want to ruin things, no when that was your first time going out as a couple, so you simply put the best of your smiles. And fake it.

Hoping for Satoru not to catch you up on your lie, you made yourselves busy.

“Let’s go to visit the temple that it’s here.” You said with enthusiasm.

You and Satoru walked through the streets that had once been very familiar to you, where you had laughed, cried and been angry. Every corner hid a memory that seemed distant now but that made you smile when you remembered it.

Your feet stopped moving as your body reacted to the place you were in. Satoru turned around, still holding your hand as he watched you.

“Is something wrong?” He murmured as he approached you.

“This was the family home.” You said wistfully. “It still looks the same.”

Satoru didn’t need to do more to put his arms around you. He had noticed your vulnerability in your voice, the sadness that accompanied you as you remembered the place where you grew up, where you lived with your mother, with your grandmother.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself be embraced by Satoru’s arms and warm, and trying to calm down your shaken heart.

A little calmer, Satoru took your hand and led you through the streets, as if he already knew them. Before turning the corner you took one last look at what was once your home.

Satoru Gojo pov

Satoru would occasionally turn his head to look at you, your gaze still a bit lost and his heart was in his chest at the sight of that look, he wanted your eyes to smile and shine again. The smell of the sea filled his nostrils and a smile formed on his face when he remembered the day he asked you out.

“Birdie…” He whispered, causing your eyes to meet his. “Shall we go to the beach?”

“But… we didn’t bring our bathing suits, they’re at the hotel.” You said. Satoru smiled.

“I want to walk with you along the shore again like that time…” Your face lit up and began to blush. “Is that look a yes?” You nodded and Satoru laughed and pulled you towards the beach.

The sand burned your feet but that didn't stop Satoru from pulling you closer to the sand. Satoru hadn't wanted to ask you, but he had noticed that even though you had tried to hide it, something was still on your mind and it was something that didn't let you be calm. He wanted whatever was on your mind to disappear and for you to enjoy your moments together.

Satoru enjoyed your laughter as he splashed water on you and watched your face light up. What could he do to keep that smile with him forever? He wanted to cherish that smile, you, what you had, everything.

“‘Toru! Stop!” You laughed.

“Why? It’s funny.” He said with his dimples popping out. “Look at you… so cute.” He hugged you. “My pretty birdie.” He said closing the distance between your faces and kissing your lips.

You opened your eyes and looked at him. “When are you going to tell me why you call me like that?”

“Like what?” Satoru started to play dumb.

“You know what, don’t be silly.”

“Maybe one day…” Satoru kissed your cheek. “But now, let’s have fun okay?”

You continued playing on the beach for a while longer. Satoru kept making you laugh as he splashed you with salt water, not wanting that smile on your face to fade away. When the sun began to shine brightly in the sky, you decided to go to a bar on the coast to eat something and rest.

The bar was small but cozy, with wooden tables and chairs scattered across the sand, offering a perfect view of the ocean. The scent of grilled seafood filled the air as you and Satoru found a spot near the water. The sea breeze felt refreshing against your sun-kissed skin.

“Wait here, alright?” He said standing back up.

“My cocktail, order it with extra ice.” You said and Satoru nodded like an obedient puppy.

You waited on the terrace looking at the sea. The sea breeze moved your hair, which had become slightly wavy due to your entertaining session of playing in the sea. He bit his cheek and looked away from your figure to order your drinks.

“Excuse me?” Satoru heard someone approaching him.

“Yeah?” He looked at the person talking, it was a 50 years old man. “Do I know you?” Satoru asked him.

“No, no, we don’t know each other.” The man said and Satoru could notice his nervous posture and how his eyes moved from one side to the other. “I saw you arrive with that girl over there.” Satoru tensed as the man pointed his finger at you. “And I was wondering if…”

“Who are you?” Satoru asked with a frown.

“Oh… I… I am that girl’s dad.” Satoru clenched his fist.

Your father? Was that the bastard who left your mother when he found out she was pregnant? Satoru took a deep breath, not wanting to rush into anything.

“I was wondering if it would be possible to talk to her…”

“No.” Satoru cut him off.

Satoru’s eyes scanned that man and he noticed how disheveled he was and Satoru couldn't ignore the smell of alcohol that emanated from all over him.

“Why?” Satoru asked, with a cold look, his blue eyes had been replaced by a dark color. A look that made anyone tremble.

“Well she is my daughter and…”

“Answer me and don’t lie to me.” Satoru watched as the man swallowed and wiped his hands against his old pants.

Pathetic.

“I need money okay?” The man blurted. “I know she has savings from her mother and…”

“Enough.” Satoru said. “You want money? That’s the only reason you want to talk to your daughter?” The man felt silent and a laughter escaped Gojo’s lips. “You truly are a disgusting piece of shit.”

“Hey…” But as soon as he saw Satoru’s face, words stood hanging in the air.

Satoru glanced in your direction for a moment, you were concentrating on taking pictures of the view from where you sat, and then his eyes fell back on the man. It was hard to believe that you had his blood on you.

Satoru took the man by the arm and led him to a more secluded spot, one where you wouldn't see them. “Don’t you ever come near her again,” Satoru whispered. “I’ll give you 1,500,000 yen, but if you show your filthy face in front of her again, I’ll see that you end up in prison. Do you understand?” The man gulped and nodded. “Oh, and one more thing, get away from this prefecture and Tokyo, you understand?”

Satoru wasn’t usually this kind of person, making threats. But he knew enough about you and your family to know that you probably wouldn’t want to meet this man, or have him anywhere near you.

The man nodded and wrote down his phone number on a crumpled napkin, which Satoru reluctantly put in his pocket. Before another threat could leave his lips, the man who called himself your father was gone.

Satoru closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he really hoped that once that person received the money he would never stand in front of you again. You didn't deserve someone like that with you.

With the tension still on his shoulders, Satoru faked a smile and walked out with your drinks to the terrace where you were waiting for him with that warm look he had discovered.

“Here…” He left your drink in front of you.

“Thank you. It took you time, what happened?”

Satoru didn’t like to lie, not to you at least. “Oh just, just a man making a show.” He cracked a smile.

“Oh…” You nodded and drank a bit of your cocktail. “Oh god!” You closed your eyes. “It’s so sweet.”

“Really?” Satoru asked.

“Yeah… do you wanna taste it?”

“Not really, I’m not a fan of alcohol and besides I’m taking you somewhere later.” He smiled cockily.

You opened your eyes with surprise. “You taking me somewhere?”

“Yeah… I did my research before coming and found a place we could go to see the sunset.” Satoru looked at your eyes and he saw how they started to glow.

“That’s fantastic Satoru.” You smiled.

Satoru smiled back and took a sip of his drink, but his shoulders still felt tense. His gaze occasionally drifted towards the entrance of the bar, a trace of worry in his eyes. He was trying to enjoy the moment, but the thought of your father showing up unexpectedly again and this time you seeing him, was a constant undercurrent of anxiety.

Noticing his uneasiness you decided to address it. “You seem a little strange. Everything okay?”

Satoru managed a casual smile. “Oh yeah, I was just thinking about how unpredictable things can be. But don’t worry about it. I’m here to have a good time with you.”

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Well, let’s focus on having a good time. We have the whole afternoon ahead of us and then you’ll take me to that place right?” You gave him a smile.

With a nod, Satoru took a deep breath and tried to relax. The conversation turned to lighter and more pleasant topics as they both continued to eat and enjoy the beautiful view. Despite the lingering tension, you both managed to savor the day and found comfort in each other's company.

As the two of you continued to enjoy your meal, the atmosphere around you began to feel more relaxed. The sunlight danced across the water, casting a warm glow over everything. Satoru watched your face, which was illuminated by the reflection of the ocean, and took in every feature of yours, admiring how beautiful you were. You and Satoru laughed as you shared stories and chatted happily, the tension from earlier slowly fading from your shoulders.

Satoru could see how the sadness that had been over your eyes that morning had disappeared and now there was only brightness.

The lively atmosphere of the bar added to the feeling of tranquility. Other customers were chatting and enjoying their meals, and the sound of laughter and clinking glasses mixed with the rhythm of the waves.

“You know.” Satoru said, leaning back with a contented sigh. “I’m really glad we did this. It’s been a while since I felt this carefree and relaxed.”

You smiled and reached across the table to touch his hand. “Me too.” You patted his hand and he returned the gesture. “You may not want to talk… but what about your parents?” Satoru felt a small pang in his heart and shook his white hair.

“I haven’t talked with them since the party…” Satoru shrugged. “They haven’t called, I haven’t called…” He quickly noticed your gaze. “If you are worried about what happened… don’t worry, I talked with my grandmother and she was worried when she heard what happened, apparently most people at the party started blaming Naoya and days later anonymously someone posted an article on a famous magazine talking about the behavior of one of the Zenin clans younger members…”

“You…?” You gasped with surprise.

“Not me.” He smirked. “You should invite Utahime to drink some beers once we are back.”

“Utahime?” You opened your eyes.

“Yeah, her parents are the owners of the magazine and so she made them put the article… the Iori family doesn’t like the Zenin family too much, so this was their best opportunity.” Satoru explained.

“Wow!” You said with surprise. “So… is it true what they said?” You asked. “That the elite can bring people down if they want to?”

“I guess it is… it’s nasty and dangerous because it could come back to you, but these families have been doing it for years now and they won’t change.” Satoru explained. “But let’s stop talking about them… the sun is almost down so we have to hurry up.” Satoru held your hand.

The two of you walked to Satoru’s car and headed towards your destination. The sun continued to set, painting the sky in deep shades of orange and violet, its warm light reflecting off the sea and casting a golden glow over everything. Satoru’s hands gripped the steering wheel as his eyes remained focused on the road, following the silent instructions of the GPS. You glanced at him from time to time, sensing that something about this trip was important to him.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going or will it remain a surprise?” You asked, smiling softly.

Satoru smiled, but kept his gaze straight ahead. “It’s a surprise. You’ll see soon enough. I promise it’s worth it.”

The car moved smoothly along the coast, the sound of the waves fading as the road curved inland. With the setting sun casting long shadows across the landscape, everything outside the window seemed to slow down, creating an almost dream-like feeling.

After a while, Satoru’s expression softened. His earlier tension seemed to fade as the familiar sight of the destination came into view. The GPS announced the final turn and you felt the car slow down as you entered a quiet, secluded area surrounded by lush greenery and hills.

Satoru parked the car and turned off the engine. He looked at you, his smile now gentle and sincere. “It’s okay, we’re here.”

You got out of the car, feeling the cool evening breeze on your skin. As you looked around, you noticed a small path leading up a hill. Without saying much, Satoru took your hand and began to lead you along it.

At the top of the hill, a stunning view unfolded before you. The sea stretched endlessly into the distance, the sky now painted in soft pinks and purples. Below, a hidden cove shimmered, its shore empty and quiet. The only sounds were the distant songs of birds and the soft rustle of leaves.

“Satoru…” You murmured, amazed by the view your eyes were seeing. “How? How did you find this place?” You turned to look at him, who was proudly smiling.

Satoru exhaled, feeling proud of himself. “I’m glad you like it. I spent hours online trying to find a place like this.” He joked with a smile.

You turned to him, surprised. “You found this online?”

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah… Did some digging to find something special near your hometown. Wanted it to feel… personal.”

Your heart warmed at the thought of him spending time looking for such a hidden gem, just to create a moment like this for you. “Satoru, this is... amazing. You didn’t have to….”

He smiled, and softly touched your cheek."You’re worth it…”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop rotating. The gentle breeze, the distant sound of the ocean, and the soft light of the evening all came together to make the moment feel timeless.

“I love you…” He let out his soft yet emotion-filled voice. Your heart raced, feeling like it could explode in your chest. “And I want to cherish you.” He continued, his hand gently brushing yours. “Protect you, be someone you can always count on. I know I’m not perfect, but when I’m with you… I want to be better. For you.”

A gasp escaped your lips and your hands went up to his face. Satoru’s eyes were watery and even if Satoru wanted to hide it he couldn’t. “What’s wrong ‘Toru?” You called him by that affectionate nickname.

Satoru sighed deeply, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. Should he tell you? Or just let it go? After all, this was something that involved you directly, something that affected you deeply. But he didn’t want to burden you with it either, he didn’t want to drag negative emotions into this perfect night you were sharing. You seemed so happy, so at peace, and the last thing he wanted was to tarnish that with something painful.

Yet at the same time, the idea of ​​keeping something from you didn’t sit well with him. Satoru had always promised himself that he would never hide anything from you, that he would never keep secrets that could build walls between you. He wanted to be open with you about everything, no matter how hard it might be.

You noticed his internal struggle, the way his gaze seemed distant, his body tense beside you. “Satoru?” You asked softly, your thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of his hand. “What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

He swallowed hard, feeling the sincerity in your voice, the trust between the two of you. And that was what made him make the decision: trust. He couldn't break that, not even to spare you the awkwardness. You deserved the truth, even if it was hard to hear.

“At the bar, a man approached me…” Satoru held your hands tightly as he began with his blue eyes fixed on yours.

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