#DID I GET CARRIED AWAY WITH THIS………. PERHAPS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ovaryacted · 20 hours ago

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EAT, DRINK, AND BE MERRY

─ Joel Miller x fem! reader || WC: 10.9k (oops)

SYNOPSIS: Against your best judgment, you take a flight back to your hometown in Texas to celebrate the holidays with your hectic family. Amidst the chaos started by the people you shared blood with, Joel Miller is there to mend the pieces and more.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. SMUT. No-Outbreak AU. Age gap implied. [Joel is hitting 50, reader is late 20s]. Primarily Best Friend's Dad! Joel Miller. Explicit Language. Alcohol consumption. Oral sex (m & f receiving). Unprotected Sex (p/v). Kissing. Admissions of feelings. Mutual pining. Toxic family household. Mentions of past cheating. Slight homophobia & fatphobia. Patriarchal & misogynistic views on women. Mentions of childbirth and marriage. Mentions of religious upbringing. Reader is originally from Arlington, Texas & currently lives in NYC. Reader is described to have hair, wear makeup, and wear feminine clothing. Reader is very close friends with Sarah Miller. Joel is a long time family friend. Lots of drama. We all hate aunt Evelyn.

➣ Disclaimer: This story includes ignorant language & bigotry that may be offensive to people (the word queer in this fic is used in an offensive manner). The dialgoue in this fic is meant to highlight the toxic household the reader came from. I do not support such usage of language.

A/N: Happy belated holidays & New Years. This fic took me much longer to finish and that really pissed me off but I'm just glad it's done. Thank you to my prima @gothcsz for the proofread, and for holding my hand along with @joeloverture as I wrote this fic cause only you guys know how much of a stressor this was for me. I apologize for any typos or repeating words I did not catch and any warnings I forgot to add. Anyways, reblogs, comments, and likes are always greatly appreciated!

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

When the message from your mom came through to invite you back home for the holidays, you felt hesitant to confirm your presence back in the very place you planned to escape from years ago. Yet, the burden of familial obligation overwhelmed you, planning out the last couple of days in December to visit your folks perhaps for what felt like the last time. The trip back to Texas was dreary and long winded, a packed four almost five hour flight from New York City to Dallas with a handsy, fidgeting couple in your row almost brought you to the brink of insanity if it wasn’t for your noise cancelling headphones being your saving grace. Thankfully, you slept for the majority of the flight, waking up once to get your free ginger ale and biscoff cookies as tradition demanded, and by the second time your plane was landing in Texas.

The temperature difference took you off guard, peeling off your thermal jacket and holding it in your arm as you grabbed your carry-on and called for an uber to your hotel. The safest option for you was to pay for a room in the city to avoid your mom bribing you to extend your stay longer than you wanted.

After a day of getting situated in your hotel room and sleeping off the lingering jetlag, you mentally prepared to meet your family after much time away in the East Coast. You meticulously planned out your outfit to be the perfect balance of sensible and formal, a sweater dress cinched with a golden belt by the waist, paired with black pantyhouse and heels to match. Your makeup was equally as tasteful, natural to not distort your face, but layered enough to hide your facial imperfections.

Bringing a bottle of wine as a “welcome back home gift”, you called another Uber destined to your hometown of Arlington, Texas, a different region entirely from the tall skyscrapers you’ve grown fond of in the Big Apple. Walking up the steps of the wooden front porch you’ve known for most of your childhood, nervous fingers reach to press the doorbell, fussing with the edge of your dress and tugging it down as much as it would allow. The moment the door opened, the facade that’s kept you safe all of these years turned on like an involuntary switch, now met with your mother.

“Honey! You’ve made it.” She instantly brought you in for a hug, giving the side of your cheek a kiss. “I hope the trip wasn’t too bad, it seems like everyone wanted to travel this year.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle. Plus, I brought wine.” You said to her, the smile on her face widening as she took the bottle happily, stepping to the side to let you in.

Holding your trenchcoat in one arm, you stepped into your childhood home and looked over the wall of family photos in the entryway, still in the same frames and spots as you last remembered. You stalled to look over one of the frames, a family photo that was taken back when you were a pre-teen, you could tell from the animal print leggings and shin-high laced converse you wore.

Oh, how the time flew by.

There was a bunch of commotion towards the living room, standing by the archway to spot other members of your rather hectic family. Some of your aunts and older cousins gathered around the television already a few glasses of wine into the night, currently watching something you didn’t care to pay attention to, critiquing the appearances of the women on the screen as a means to feed their broken egos. Thankfully, the family members with younger children weren’t here, the slightest bit of ease settling your nervous system at the thought of not needing to monitor children that weren’t yours. You got the rundown that luckily, your mom had downsized her usual Christmas dinners, most of your extended family opting to save their money and host their own celebrations closer to home. Less people to deal with, even better for you.

Your younger sister came down the stairs once she heard of your arrival, practically jumping on her toes and waiting patiently to have you spot her. You didn’t deny her the hug she had been waiting for since hearing you were coming back home, wrapping her arms tightly around you in an affectionate squeeze.

“Been a while pipsqueak. You've gotten taller since the last time I visited.” You teased her, taking in her slightly mature appearance as if it were the first time you were meeting her despite the facetime calls shared between you. Really, she was the only member of your immediate family you kept in touch with nowadays, the only person you’d want to speak to anyway.

“Yeah yeah, I can finally reach your shoulders.” She replied with a laugh. “Thought you’d bail out this time around.”

“Didn’t think it would be too overwhelming if I visited. How’s college going? Are they treating you alright in California?”

“It’s pretty good. Biology is pretty easy, but I have the absolute worst organic chemistry professor, thankfully me and the other students have a study group so I think I’ll manage. I’m still not used to California, being close to the San Andreas fault keeps me up at night.” Your sister’s irrational fear made you giggle, your head turning over your shoulder once you heard a familiar male voice through the walls of the kitchen, your father making an appearance as he reached into the fridge for what you could imagine was a beer.

“How’s dad doing?” You asked timidly.

“Well, he’s still a bit upset about you leaving after all of these years. I don’t think he’ll ever live that down, but for the most part I think he’s alright.” Your sister’s shoulders rose and dropped in a shrug, not wishing to press on with this conversation topic.

In the midst of asking about what your mother could be cooking, the doorbell rang and your name was called from the dining room to answer it. Parting away from your sibling, you reached for the front door knob fully expecting another distant relative on the other side of the threshold holding a pan of some dish as a welcome gift.

Instead, your eyes widened to see Joel Miller standing on your porch, holding a bottle of rum you knew your father liked. He was older than you remembered with more gray on his head and in the facial hair that accentuated his upper lip and jaw. The seasonal flannel he wore looked tighter across his broad chest, the thin jacket he layered on top only accentuated his wide shoulders and thick biceps. There were a couple more wrinkles on his forehead, some additional creases you counted on the side of his eyes, still as warm and brown as you last saw them.

He grows more handsome with age you’ve come to notice.

“Hey darlin’.” The baritone of his voice washed over you suddenly, smooth in your ear like honey. It took you a second to realize you’ve been blatantly staring at him before finding words.

“Hiya Joel. Sorry, I didn’t realize you were coming by.” Moving to the side to let him through, you tried your hardest not to stare at the length of his back as he sauntered past you.

“Your mom invited me, heard you were visitin’ so I wanted to see you. Been a while.” The idea of Joel possibly missing you brought a flutter to your chest, but you swallowed it down with a calm nod of your head.

“Yeah, I haven't been back in a long time. How’s Sarah doing? She told me she couldn’t make it for this week.” Ah yes, the mention of his daughter and your childhood friend brought a sly smile to his face.

“She’s over in Chicago celebratin’ the holidays with her boyfriend’s family. Told me she’ll be back for New Years so at least she’ll get to see her old man for a few days. She misses you, you know?”

“She definitely told me that after apologizing for not being able to see me now. I bribed her to make it up to me with a really nice gift.” You both laughed amongst yourselves, the sense of familiarity you always got with Joel in particular made it easier to talk to him, even if it’s been some time since you’ve been back home. “You look good Joel.”

It slipped out before you could take it back, misinterpreting how that could’ve come off. Yet Joel, ever the considerate man, responded with equal amounts of charisma.

“You look good too darlin’.” There was a pause, a single breath that could’ve disrupted the vibe had you cared to look into it more than you’d like. Instead, your mother came to interrupt the minor moment you were having with your best friend’s father.

“Joel! So happy you could come by.” She embraced him much like she had done when you initially came in, with Joel wrapping one thick arm around her waist and holding the rum bottle in his other hand. “You brought a gift for Joseph?”

“Couldn’t come empty handed, wouldn’t be very gentleman like.” The three of you chuckled, but you caught the way he glanced at you as he spoke before looking at your mom again, your cheeks warming the slightest bit when he did so.

“He’d love it. Sweetie, why don’t you go in the kitchen and check on the rolls in the oven. Take this with you.” She hands you the rum bottle Joel had brought, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes at the instant dismissal. Joel gave you another look over as you turned on your heels to head to the kitchen, checking over your mom’s cooking.

Your sister had come by to give you company as your mom paraded Joel around to your aunts and other relatives. Evelyn, your recently divorced aunt for the second time might you add, was eyeing Joel like he was a piece of meat, reapplying her lipstick and curling her hair behind her ear for a chance to have his attention on her. You and your sister snickered under your breath at her obvious antics, making hushed comments of your own as you poured yourself a cup of wine to sip on.

Your family have been preoccupied drinking away and making mundane conversation while you stayed behind to inspect the rest of your mother’s extensive menu, letting the bread rolls cool off and switching out their place with a fresh apple pie. Bending over to check on the pastry through the glass oven door, you watched the dough edges caramelize into a brown, oblivious to an additional presence in the kitchen with you.

“It won’t cook any faster if you glare at it like that.” Joel quipped, his voice startling you as your back straightened.

“No harm in checking, you know how my mom is with her cooking.” You stated, gesturing over to Joel’s almost empty glass. “You want a refill?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” Joel handed you his glass, ignoring the feel of his fingers grazing yours as he passed it over. He watched you from the side of your face as you mixed him a rum and coke, just the way he liked, the way you learned he liked. “Learned some new skills in the big city?”

“Bartended for a few years to pay off the living expenses. Was a pain in the ass, but at least I can make a mean cocktail.” Your little jest made Joel chuckle under his breath, passing him his new drink. He took a tentative sip, offering a satisfied hum.

“It’s good. Remind me to give you a tip later on.” You playfully rolled your eyes and shook your head, refilling your glass of wine. “Your aunt, Evelyn if I remember, I think she’s tryin’ to make a pass at me.”

“Well, she is divorced, so it’s not farfetched to think she might want to shoot her shot while she can. She doesn’t tickle your fancy?”

“She ain’t really my type.” For some reason, you felt relieved to hear that from him, despite feeling a bit guilty for doing so. “Been sticking to myself, you know?”

“Right. I forgot you were sticking to the whole ‘single dad bachelor’ type of vibe.” He was smirking now, the appearance of a dimple on his cheek tugged at your chest.

“So you’re saying I’m a bachelor?”

“If we’re being technical, yes you would fit the bracket, bonus points for being a girl dad too.”

“Well now you’re just butterin’ me up.” You knew you were, but you shouldn’t entertain it in that way, even if you wanted to. Acting nonchalant about it, you shrugged, sipping away at your wine once more.

“Listen, I’m just reiterating what’s been told in Cosmopolitan. Don’t shoot the messenger.” You rose your hands up in feign innocence, much to Joel’s amusement.

“I definitely missed you around these parts. Always were a funny one, smart too.”

“Now I think you’re the one that’s buttering me up.” You were having trouble discerning if or you were outright flirting with Joel or if he was simply being kind after some time away. For now, you’ll blame it on the wine coursing through your system.

“Maybe. Just bein’ honest with you.” He swallowed more of the mixed drink you made him, holding the glass in his large hand, struggling not to examine the way his thick fingers gripped around the cup. “Listen, do you mind sittin’ by me at the table? I’m feelin’ like an outsider and frankly, I don’t mean to upset your aunt if she realizes her advances aren’t bein’ reciprocated.”

“Sure thing, Joel.” You couldn’t blame him for the proposition, hell you wanted to ask if he could sit with you. Looks like you were both interested in doing the other a favor on just getting through the night in one piece.

“You’re the best.”

It was the last thing he said before leaving you in the kitchen, his words of praise bouncing around in your head as you continued to watch over the pie, knowing the dinner you dreaded was quickly approaching.

After a while, your mom had called everyone over to the dinner table, the red and gold table cloth matching perfectly with the white porcelain and silverware gracing the mahogany wooden table. Everyone was quick to find a seat, your parents sitting on the right end and your extended family fanning out on the opposite side. Joel had already found his seat right in the middle of the table, and you took your place beside him on the right with a thankful smile, your sister situated across from you.

“Come, let us say grace.” Your mother declared out loud, your mind blanking at forgetting how religion was such an influential part of your upbringing despite your personal qualms with it.

Everyone around you closed their eyes and bowed their heads, reaching for the person besides them to hold their hand. Joel opened his palm and gestured to his hand with kind eyes, clasping your fingers in his once he felt you. As your mom recited the prayer you’ve tried to forget since you had moved away, you focused more on the way Joel’s touch felt against your skin. He gave you a couple of untimely squeezes, his thumb caressing over your knuckles as you tuned out the sound of your mother’s voice, mind wandering to places where it probably shouldn’t go while being surrounded by your family.

“Amen.” You heard from your right side, the dinner guests echoing afterwards, quickly snapping you out of your day dream.

“Amen.” You muttered last, reminiscing the final instant Joel had your hand in his before he dropped it, leaving it on your lap.

The bowl of fresh butter rolls circled around the table, snatching one as you planned out the rest of your plate. You took your pick of what was laid before you, some mashed potatoes, macaroni salad, glazed ham, and a piece of turkey breast. You brushed off a slick comment you heard down the table aimed directly at you and your portion control. The faster you eat and finish your meal, the less you would have to entertain familial bullshit.

The table burst into conversation, your guests exchanging recent and old memories as they munched away at the contents of their plates. Trying your hardest not to humor any overly personal inquiries from your parents, you made small talk with Joel and your sister, talking about school and childhood stories. Of course, that was short lived by the time your mom chimed in.

“So honey, how’s the city?” You know the chances of this conversation heading in the wrong direction were high, but you would like to give your mother the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she actually cares. Maybe she’s changed.

“It’s good. Finished my masters, moved into another apartment further downtown. Things are going well.” You kept your answer general, thinking that maybe she wouldn’t pry too much.

“That’s nice, I’m glad you finished your program. But that sounds a bit lonely, no? What happened with that boy you were talking to before? Oh what was his name…Daniel? Derrick?”

Oh of course. Your fucking ex of 2 years.

“You mean Devin?”

“Yes Devin! I liked that boy for you.” You fought the urge to roll your eyes into the back of your skull.

“I liked him too before I found out he cheated on me with his coworker. You knew that mom, yet you always remind me of him as if he’s some saint.” The table had gotten a bit quiet then, and you swear you could feel Joel’s eyes digging holes into the side of your head. You didn’t care much to mention your ex, you’ve grown past the bitterness you used to carry and already made your peace with it. Apparently your mom was still hung up on the one individual from your past you would do anything to forget.

“Yes, well, you can always forgive him for that, I’m sure he’s learned from his mistake. I just don’t want you to be all alone in the city. You are getting to that age where you should be thinking about having a family of your own, to have people who can take care of you.”

Of course she was going to fucking say that.

Your achievements didn’t mean shit to your parents. It didn’t matter if you went to college and graduated top of your class or excelled in your Master’s program, getting an offer to work at one of the biggest corporations in the country at a supervisory position. They were always more focused on when you planned on popping out children of your own for their comfort, to reassure them that their lineage will be passed on. That has always been bullshit to you.

“I’m focused on work and my career, so I’m not really interested in planning for a family of my own.” It was a straightforward response, you think it would be enough for your mom to read the room but it never was.

“How long are you planning on only prioritizing your career hun? You’ll be alone your entire life at this rate. Surely you want to have kids soon, you can’t leave me high to dry. I want some grandbabies of my own!”

“I like my job, I like where I’m at, and a kid doesn’t need to be added in the mix. I’ll be alright.” Your mother forced a hurt expression, real enough for a stranger to think you caused her physical pain. She wore the mask of victimhood well, but you’ve learned to see through her facade since you were a child.

“That city life has made you selfish. See, I told you this was going to happen before you left us. You’ve been telling me you wanted kids since you were little and now you’ve changed your mind.” You bitterly sniggered under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief. Your sister shot you a look of concern, already familiar with the combative direction of this conversation.

“I’m selfish for not wanting kids? For changing my stance on it from a thought I had when I was six? That’s rich.” Before your mother could respond, the nail scratching voice of your aunt Evelyn hit your ears, always so quick to criticize and taunt.

“You won’t find a husband if you continue to be so work focused.” Your pulse pounded in your ears at how dense she had always been, but you weren’t a defenseless child anymore, you had a mouth of your own. “If you ever want to get married, you should learn how you can contribute to the home, to cook and take care of your family, like me and your mom were taught.”

“Really? And how has that turned out for you? You’re on your second divorce from your personal cheating scandal, so maybe I’m doing something right.” You’ve trained yourself to bite back after experiencing so much nonsense from your family. Besides, you weren’t obligated to be anybody’s emotional punching bag.

“The only thing you’re doing right is tightening your waistband. If your education stopped you from finding a man, your appearance certainly will when you’re wasting your youth away.”

You had lost your appetite a few minutes ago, feeding off of the years worth of irritation you felt coiling in your gut, dropping your silverware on the table. Since you’ve left for New York, you put so much into changing the way you thought about things, to undo the traumas you’ve experienced your entire life and unlearn the very things your family indoctrinated you into since you were young. You’ve done the work, and now you realize just how ridiculous the people you share blood with truly are, minus your sister of course.

“And then you wonder why I don’t visit for the holidays.”

“It’s not like you visit anyways.” Your eyebrows furrowed at your father’s voice, tensely looking towards him and growing tense at what will come out of his mouth. “New York has changed you for the worst. I told your mother it was a bad idea to let you go over there, and now you won’t come back to Texas.”

“Well when you guys act like this during a time that should be about love and family, do you really expect me to come back here? Come back to what exactly?”

“You don’t abandon your family, not the people who raised you and brought you into this world.” Is he fucking joking?

“I didn’t ask to be brought into this world, and I didn’t abandon anybody. I went to school. I went to learn. To be somebody.”

“The only thing you learned is how to be ungrateful for the life you’ve been given, the life me and your mom worked hard to give you. And now you repay us by ending our family lineage.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“For the love of God, I don’t want children and I don’t care about getting married. Why won’t you get that through your thick heads?”

“Your responsibility is to continue the growth of the family, to be a respectable woman and a wife to a nice man. Yet you go to the city, doing drugs and partying, losing your faith and probably behaving indecently. Maybe you’ve become one of those queers, an even worse abomination.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest at your father’s words, straining to keep them out of your head. Emotionally, you’ve already grown detached from the man you unfortunately shared blood with, and your time away from home along with the therapy you’ve gotten has shown you just how much pain this man has caused you.

You knew better than coming back home. There was nothing left here for you. And there was nothing else left for you to say.

“Woah, Joseph. That ain’t the way to talk to your kid, c’mon. You don’t say those things to anyone, much less to her.” Joel chastised, holding one hand up in your defense and the other landing on your lap, sensing the angry trembles washing over you.

“Ain’t no kid of mine acting this ungrateful in my damn home! She’s free to leave and go back to her city if that’s what she wants.” Holding your head high and standing up, your chair scraped against the wooden floor, shooting daggers of hatred directly at your father.

“Fuck you.” The words came out of you so vehemently you couldn’t take them back, not that you wanted to. Your other family members gasped around the table, closely watching the showdown between you and your parents.

“Apologize to your father right now!” Your mother had definitely lost her mind, but it came as no surprise that she’d instantly coddle your father instead of giving you the support you needed since you were a little girl.

“I won’t. But I’ll do you a favor and go back to my lovely city. You can all go fuck yourselves.”

Not bothering to look back and hear the additional comments from your bigots of parents, you grabbed your jacket and swiftly threw it over you, taking your purse and heading for the door. Before you fully stepped out, you went into the kitchen, taking the bottle of rum Joel had brought and the apple pie, covering it with a plate and forcefully slamming the front door.

Slumping on the porch bench, you dug into your purse to find your phone to call an Uber back to your hotel. Right as you opened the app and began typing your hotel’s address, the front door opened and closed again, finding Joel now standing by the entryway.

“You alright?” He asked, walking towards you to sit beside you on the bench, his presence easing you in ways you desperately needed at the moment. You hid your emotions well, but you knew it was a matter of time before you broke down to release your storming emotions.

“I will be. Just trying to get out of here really.” You weren’t as bubbly as when you first came home, sagging into yourself and face frozen in a neutral expression despite your eyes telling a whole different story.

“Let me drive you back. It’s the least I can do after watchin’ you go through that.” You should’ve expected him to want to help you out, he always did when things at home got too much to handle.

“It’s alright Joel, I can just get an Uber. You shouldn’t have to leave because of me ruining everything.”

“You didn’t ruin anythin’, and I don’t really have plans of stayin’ with your family, not after how they treated you. I’d rather make sure you’re okay.” He squatted in front of you with a grunt, knees popping as his hands went to sandwich yours, an act of kindness you took graciously. “Please, let me drive you away from here for the night, somethin’ for your peace of mind.”

“It’s a bit more than a thirty minute drive to Dallas.”

“I don’t mind the drive. I’ll do it if that means you’re somewhere comfortable.”

You knew he didn’t have to do that, you could pay the $75 late night fee to find your way back to Dallas and be left alone for the next few days, thinking about whether or not you should pay more money to reschedule your flight back to New York earlier than you had anticipated. But Joel was here, offering you the generosity you had been deprived of for so long, you knew there was no other convenient choice.

“Alright, I’ll appreciate the ride.”

In the next few minutes, you found yourself in the front passenger seat of Joel’s truck, carrying the apple pie you stole in your lap and the bottle of rum securely by your feet. He played some music to try to mellow you out over the 30 minute drive back to Dallas, your phone ringing a few moments later, seeing your sister’s contact picture pop up on your screen. Sliding your thumb on the green phone button to answer the call, you held the phone to your ear, answering all of her sudden questions.

Hey. Yeah I left. Yeah yeah I’m fine, promise, nothing I can’t handle. Yes I’m safe, Joel’s taking me back, Ubers were too damn expensive. Of course I took the damn pie, they didn’t deserve to eat it after that. Sure, I’ll try to save you a piece and you can pick it up tomorrow. I’m not mad at you, you know how they get, I didn’t want you to get involved with them in my defense, I can handle them now. I probably won’t be back for the rest of the break, but we can hang out before I leave and you go back to Cali. Yeah, I’ll let you know. I love you too pipsqueak, stay safe.

Joel did you a favor by keeping quiet for the entire drive, staying focused on the road and taking the fastest route to the city. You weren’t necessarily in the mood to talk anyway, stuck in your head and tuning out the music playing in his car, thinking of other solutions to the mess of your night. Time flew by so quickly, Joel had begun pulling into the driveway of your hotel, putting the car in park and turning off the radio momentarily, bringing your attention back to him.

“Thanks Joel, for getting me out of there. I’m sorry for what happened, for my family acting the way they did.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to apologize for, family gets messy like that, I get it. It’s not your fault, just a shame they behaved that way durin’ the holidays.” Even if you didn’t ask for it, you appreciated his compassion. You just hoped the next thing you said didn’t ruin your current circumstances.

“You know, I didn’t eat much at dinner, and I have an entire apple pie and a bottle of rum to myself. Want to grab a bite and share it with me?”

You didn’t know what exactly you expected in his answer, but the small smile creeping on his face was all you needed to know you were in the clear.

“I wouldn’t mind some pie.”

After driving out to get some chicken tenders at a local spot that was still open and purchasing a full liter of coke, Joel took you back to your hotel, guiding him up the elevator and to your bedroom as he held the bag with your food. Taking your keycard from your purse, you inserted the small piece of plastic on the sensor by your door, opening it with a click.

The both of you leaned on your bed, munching away at your tenders and fries and sharing sips of watered down rum and cokes with cups provided by the hotel service. Your heels and belt were thrown to the floor, laying on your side while Joel was beside you, keeping his feet off of the bed, not trying to dirty your pristine sheets by mistake. The conversations between you flowed with ease, taking trips down memory lane and talking of all the moments you shared with each other while biting into the apple pie piece by piece. Sarah’s birthday parties and soccer games, high school prom, trips to the mall and sleepovers at the Miller’s household.

Being with Joel now at this very moment was the closest thing to normalcy you’ve felt since coming back to Texas after all of this time. If it were up to you, you would hold on to this feeling for as long as you could.

“Sarah told me she was thinking of coming back home next year, tells me she misses you a lot.” You mentioned to Joel, taking another swig of your mixed drink, losing count of what refill number you were on.

“She still has to figure out the whole transferrin’ of jobs from Chicago, especially with her boyfriend, but I won’t deny that the idea of havin’ my baby girl back home 'excites me.” The way Joel spoke of his daughter was always with pride, the love towards her evident in how his eyes brightened at the mere mention of her. Sometimes, you envied your close friend for having such a good relationship with her father, but you knew she was the most deserving individual you knew.

“I hope she does. I think it will be good for her, being back I mean.”

“I’m guessin’ you don’t feel the same about coming back here then?” You grew quiet at that, releasing a heavy sigh and swirling your cup around as you thought about your answer.

“My life in New York is different than it ever was here. It’s a huge lifestyle change, yes, a little chaotic moving to such a big city but…I’ve never been happier, never been more myself. It feels good, and I’ve worked too hard to lose that.”

Joel hums, sipping his drink in the same manner you did before, downing it completely and refilling again, looking into his cup to think of the proper words to comfort you.

“You worked hard to leave, to get out. If there ain’t nothin’ left here in Texas for you, then stay in New York, live your life, the life you want. Nobody should take that away from you, even your family.”

“I know that. It’s just, it’s hard not to feel guilty about it sometimes, leaving everything behind…dad’s still holding a grudge about it, if you couldn’t tell.”

“Family is a real messy thing, but just cause they’re your blood shouldn’t mean they dictate your whole life darlin’. You deserve to be happy, to thrive, and if it upsets them…well fuck ‘em.” His honesty made you chortle a bit, bashfully glancing at him to meet his softened gaze. “Besides, you have me and Sarah rootin’ for you always. Don’t matter the distance, we’re here for you even miles away.”

“I know. You guys have been there for me since the beginning, I don’t know how to repay you for that.”

“Nothin’ needs to be repaid. Only thing you should do is prioritize yourself and your career, everythin’ else can come afterwards. Relationships, kids if you want, all that can come after you’re settled in life.” If only it were that easy.

“Trust me, I’ve already made up my mind on kids, that’s an absolute no. Relationships are quickly finding their way on the no list too.”

“Damn, that bad huh?” You laughed under your breath, finishing the rest of your drink and reaching for the rum bottle for a refill, long passing the threshold of tipsiness.

“You have no idea, Joel. But it’s alright, really, he was an asshole and I was just an idiot. I’ve made peace with it.” It was easier for you to say that compared to the actual healing process, the months worth of anguish from a broken heart put behind you once you were ready to move forward with your life.

“It’s a shame. A man disrespectin’ a pretty girl like you. Should knock some damn sense into him for lackin’ so much of it.”

Pretty girl.

“Would’ve been nice if you did that honestly. He deserved it.”

“I can fly back to New York if you want, rough him up real good.” If Joel was trying to make you feel better about your shitty night, he was doing a real good job of doing just that.

“No Joel, I don’t need to explain to Sarah why I had to bail you out of jail in the city. I have enough going on as it is.” The sound of lighthearted laughter filled the walls of your hotel room, the episode of some reality show you didn’t care for playing on the mounted TV in the background.

“Just sayin’, don’t let that one situation make you question your worth. Anybody would love to be with you, and if they don’t realize that, then they’re as blind as a bat.”

“You really think that?” You focused directly at him, his brown eyes landing on yours, taking in your facial features so intimately.

“I do darlin’. I really do.” From the soft tone he used when he said that, you could actually believe him. “You’re a lovely girl, I’m sure the right person will make you feel the way you deserve.”

“What about you?” You blurted out, the rum flowing through you lowered your inhibitions.

“What about me?”

“Are you one of those men that have sense?”

With how Joel had grown quiet, you would think you just fucked yourself over, making things weird between someone you’ve known for a large portion of your life. Yet he only stares off towards his feet, hesitant to meet your piercing gaze.

“I think under different circumstances, I wouldn’t hesitate to snatch you up, show you a good time. In another life maybe…”

“Why not this one?” At that, he almost snapped his neck to peer at you, the haziness in your pupils matching his own.

“Sweetheart…you know we can’t mess around that way. It ain’t right.” Of course he had to be the voice of reason. Fuck morality. Fuck holding yourself back. Fuck thinking so much about the hypotheticals until they smothered you in your sleep.

“It ain’t right to who exactly?”

“For starters, I’m a lot older than you, your parents would kill me.”

“Do you think I care what my parents have to say about me and my life choices? I stopped giving a shit about their opinions a long time ago.” You wanted to reason with him, to find a way to break his inner critic. “And you might be older than me, but we’re both consenting adults here. I’m not a kid anymore, Joel.”

“And what about Sarah? You’re close friends with my daughter, have been for a long time. Do you really want to risk your friendship just to be with an old man like me?”

“Joel…” You inched closer to him as he shakily sucked in a breath. “Sarah, well, yes we’re close, but she kinda figured out I’ve had a little crush on you for a while.” You were sincere when you had a little alcohol in your system, but your words continued to surprise Joel, giving him a sense of whiplash.

“You’re jokin’. Really? Since when?” As if it would be difficult to like a man like him.

“Remember when I came back to visit a few years ago for your mom’s birthday barbeque? You were wearing this stupid grilling shirt, and I think that was when my crush really sunk in for me. Thought you looked really cute.”

As you recalled the memory, you had a sheepish grin on your face. You could hear Sarah teasing Joel about his outfit on that hot summer day, embracing the title of barbecue dad like a badge of honor. He kept himself busy over the grill, flipping burgers and hot dogs as the brisket continued to cook in the smoker, authentic to the Texan cuisine you grew up with. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him that whole day, watching his throat bobbing with every sip of his beer, how he laughed loudly at something Tommy had said in passing, tossing his head back to show all of his pearly white teeth, both dimples on display. You could spot his softened tummy through the corny t-shirt he wore, his ass accentuated by the jeans he still managed to wear despite the burning sun.

You were long gone the moment he smiled at you, tilting the tip of his beer bottle towards you in salute.

“So you don’t think it’s a bad idea to try and kiss you?” You couldn’t hide the smirk on your face even if you tried.

“No, I don’t think so.” You drew nearer to him, carefully testing your boundaries with the man that had always been considered as a family friend. Placing a hand on his chest and messing with the collar of his flannel, you offered him a genuine smile. “I really want you to kiss me Joel.”

“Wouldn’t be kind of me if I kept you waitin’ any longer, right?”

Joel inclined towards you, hovering his mouth over yours and glancing between your eyes and your lips. Finally, he graced your lips with a kiss, cradling the back of your neck as his thumb caressed the spot behind your ear. He tasted like you expected, a mixture of rum and apple pie, a sweet combination garnishing your tongue.

Jerking on the collar of his flannel to bring him closer, you instinctively crawled into his lap, your legs on either side of his hips to sit comfortably on his pelvis. He grunted under his breath, a heavy hand now on your lower back, holding you by the waist while the other caressed your cheek. You willingly opened your mouth wider when his tongue teased over your lower lip, welcoming the wet muscle to curl around yours with a muted hum.

You spent a good while simply kissing Joel, sitting above him chest to chest with your hips gently grinding into his, feeling a bump growing under the confines of his thick jeans. He squeezed your hip and pulled away from you for some air, setting his forehead against yours as he huffed through his nose.

“Darlin’...this might be embarrassin’ but, it’s been a while since I did anythin’ like this.” Despite being in the same predicament as him, his confession only seemed to arouse you even more.

“Been a while for me too.” You admitted, stroking his chest through the soft material that covered him, thrumming your fingertips over his collarbone. Trailing your lips over his jaw and the side of his neck, you whispered in his ear. “I want to make you feel good.”

“You sure you want that?” If you looked at Joel long enough, you would see the slight blush painting over his features. “Don’t need to do anythin’ you don’t want to.”

“Positive.” One of your hands drifted to palm the bulge in his jeans, the groan rumbling in his chest made you clench around nothing. “Want you in my mouth. Please?”

“Alright baby, alright. Take what you want.”

With a grin you slipped away from Joel and eased down to your knees, letting him stand for easier access. Antsy fingers fumbled with the buckle of his belt, taking the leather strap out before yanking it off all in one go, tossing it behind you and popping the button of his jeans open to pull them down with his black briefs. His cock poked out for you to marvel at, hard and heavy as it was revealed to you. You concealed the moan that threatened to tumble out of your mouth at the sight.

You didn’t bother wasting any time teasing Joel, instantly pressing several kisses to his tip and the underside of his shaft, lavishing your tongue over the bulging vein under his length. In an instant, your lips circled over his throbbing crown, swirling your tongue around the circumference of him and slithering it over his slit. Breathing deeply in your nose, you took him into your throat on the next exhale, relaxing to take more of him, feeling him in the depths of your esophagus.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart. Are you tryin’ to kill me?” Joel rasped above you, bringing one of his large palms to hold the back of your head, palming your skull as you hummed around him.

Drawing your head back and timing your breaths, you adopted a forceful rhythm, bouncing your head with enthusiasm and clutching at the denim over Joel’s thighs. You lost yourself to your movements, glassy eyes staring up towards Joel, observing the way his head was thrown back in pleasure, his Adam's apple bobbing with every breath he struggled to have.

His thick fingers grasped at the hair on your head, keeping you in place and lightly thrusting into your mouth, chasing the feeling of your warm tongue stroking the underside of his cock. You encouraged his movements, unhinging your jaw and opening your mouth wider, your hands tugging on the back of his thighs to bring him forward. He eyed you closely, watching the tentative manner you held his gaze, an invitation for more.

“Gonna let me fuck up into that perfect mouth of yours, huh?” Joel croaked, yanking your head back to give you a forceful thrust, one you skillfully took and mentally prepared for with a swallow.

The man above you continued with his rough touch, bucking into your mouth with his heavy balls slapping into your chin, feeling every pant through your nose over the wet spit that covered his length. Your nails dug into his thighs, tears lining your lids as you felt the heavy weight on your tongue twitch, whirring in confirmation to coax Joel to fall over the edge, to feed you with his taste, something you’ve only dreamed of at the late night hour in private. The gruff moans coming from Joel dampened your panties, surely ruined by now as the material uncomfortably clung to your body.

“Shit…sweetheart I’m gettin’ close,” he didn’t need to confirm what you already knew, but you appreciated the notion anyway. You buzzed in affirmation, bobbing your head faster over Joel and taking a hand to knead over his balls, thumb pressing right into the crease between them, a primal growl pouring out of the older man as his vision went white.

“Fuuuuuck!” The sound Joel released as he came in your mouth would’ve been enough to bring you to the edge on your own. Your nose pressed into the coarse hair at the base, his musk overpowering your senses as you milked him for everything he had to give, happily drinking down his release with a gurgle. He didn’t need to shove your head down to keep his spurting cock down into your esophagus, you did it all on your own, hungry to every bit of him until he was running on empty.

With ease, Joel plucked you away from him, his softening cock slipping out of your mouth with a line of spit connecting you to his length. Giving the sensitive tip of him one last parting kiss, your lashes flapped upwards to meet Joel’s darkened brown eyes, now engulfed in black.

He pulled you to your feet and brought his lips to yours, chasing the taste of him in your mouth. You moaned against him, gripping the collar of his flannel and scratching at the nape of his neck, biting his plush bottom lip before he withdrew.

“Had I known it would feel like that, I would’ve made a move a while ago.” He cheesily said, making you giggle and place another kiss over his mouth.

“You can make up for lost time then,” you replied cheekily, humming at the way the tip of his nose ghosted yours. He brought you to stand fully before him, widening his legs and stuffing himself back into his briefs for the time being, leaving his jeans haphazardly unbuttoned.

“I sure can. Wanna see all of you now baby. Can I take this off of you?” God. Even the way he asked just to peel your clothes off of you was attractive, nodding enthusiastically.

His antsy fingers reached for your baggy sweater dress, lifting the material above your head in one fell swoop, careful not to ruin your makeup or hair further. He was kind enough to fold the dress and place it over on the farthest corner of the bed, the act bringing an airy giggle to your lips. As he turned to look at you, standing in front of him in your lace underwear set and pantyhose, he tried his hardest to suppress his audible moan of approval.

“Christ. Ain’t you a pretty thing.” He touched your waist, bringing you closer to him so he could nuzzle into your chest, placing affectionate kisses over the swell of your breasts. He meticulously reached for the bra clasp in the back, undoing it with finesse and tossing it to the floor. He stared at you in awe, rough graying stubble rubbing against the soft skin of your breasts, calloused thumbs stroking your stiffening nipples as you curved into his touch.

“I just know you taste as good as you look darlin’.”

Joel maneuvered you to lay on the mattress, your back bouncing a bit from the movement, waiting for Joel’s next move. He hovered above you, kissing your lips before moving to plant kisses down your neck and collarbone, shifting between the valley of your breasts and lining his lips with one of your nipples. Swirling his tongue around the stiff peak, he suckled at the nub, bringing a moan to your throat and a slight arch of your back, pinching and plucking at the other nipple. He pried away from your slick nipple and blew over the peak, drawing his attention to the other and doing the same, alternating his touch and attention.

Warmth pooled in your gut, gasping once Joel was ready to reciprocate the attention you had given him, grasping the flare of your hips and kissing down your sternum and lower stomach, running his chin over the waistband of your pantyhose.

“You better not think about ripping them.” You joked with him, seeing him smirk with a dimple popping in his cheek.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, unless you let me.” He jested right back, carefully taking hold of the waistband of your pantyhose and peeling them down your hips and thighs, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You aided him in removing the fabric off your body with a kick of your foot, getting a kiss on your knee as a thank you. Joel took one more minute to appreciate the way you looked in your black lace panties, the soft wet flesh underneath barely covered by the material. Without hesitation, he hooked his fingers with the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down and tossing away the last article of clothing you had over your figure.

The sight of you bare with nothing obstructing his vision made Joel’s heart pang in his chest, the organ pumping between his ribs a tad bit harder as you spread your legs for his view, inviting him to take a good look at you.

“Fuck darlin’. Look at that.” He drawled, his voice dropping an octave as he noticed the slick skin of your glistening flesh, your clit peeking out from under its hood, twitching and desperate for his attention. “That’s for me baby? All from suckin’ my cock?” Joel Miller had a mouth on him, but you loved it.

“Yeah, I liked having you in my mouth.” You didn’t feel ashamed of the truth, sitting up on your elbows as one of your hands swam between your legs, spreading your lips for Joel to get a better close-up of the deep pink between your thighs. “Now I think you should repay the favor.”

He was so fucked.

Joel didn’t pause his movements, diving head first between your legs and licking a broad stripe up your cunt, groaning at the taste of you invading his mouth. His fingers clasped around your thighs, keeping you spread open for him as he feasted over your pussy, shifting his tongue over your twitching flesh, gathering as much of your arousal as he could get on his lips. His nose pressed into the sensitive nub of your clit, his tongue gliding lower to twist inside you, fucking up into you as you bucked your hips into his face.

“Taste so fuckin’ good darlin’. As ripe as a fuckin’ peach.” Joel commented in a muffled grouse between your thighs, eating away at you with added fervor.

He pulled away for some air, your arousal staining his chin and upper lip, marking your territory. His plump lips veered to your twitching clit, wrapping around the nub and swiveling his tongue over the tip much like you had done with his cock a few minutes prior. The act had you keening louder, one of your hands coming to tug at the graying curls on his head, clutching the strands in your fist to keep him sucking at your clit in attentive pulses.

“Fuck Joel. Yes, yes, that’s so good, feels so good.” He grumbled around your pussy in praise, taking it up a notch as one of his hands moved, his fingertips skimming your entrance and plunging two of his digits inside you, down to the knuckle.

You gasped from the added stretch, your walls pulsing around his fingers as you adjusted to the intrusion. If you were feeling like this from just his fingers, you couldn’t imagine how taking his cock might feel, how it will stretch you out from the inside. You twitched around him at the thought, craving the release he waved in front of you like a treat.

Joel thrusted his fingers in time with the sucking of his lips around your clit, pulling out his digits and burrowing them back in. In and out. In and out. A steady push and pull that made your thighs shake beside his head, your grip tightening between his hair and the bed sheets under you, hips jerking up into him, trying to take more of his fingers. He curled his digits on the next drive, hitting something divine that sent a shot of lightening up your spine, the pressure building in your belly as the rope of tension threatened to snap at any given moment.

You could feel yourself clenching around him, your walls tightening as you were brought closer to the edge than ever thought possible. Your cries turned breathless, airy whimpers pouring out of you in par with the arousal that seeped out of your cunt and onto the bed underneath.

“Joel…I’m so close.” The curve of your back deepended, the man on his knees before you sucking with more intensity, pressing his fingertips into the textured spot inside in faster pulses, the entirety of his mouth slurping the length of you.

“C’mon baby. Give it to me. I know she wants to spill for me, let me taste her.” Joel was determined to make you fall apart because of him, inserting a third finger for an additional stretch, the act of the blunt edge of his teeth scratching your slick pearl was your undoing.

You shook as you hit your limit, climaxing with Joel’s fingers never ceasing their lunging, milking your orgasm for what it was worth. Both of your hands were fastening the gray strands at Joel’s scalp, throwing your head back against the mattress and coming with a broken cry of his name, tears pricking the corner of your eyes at the pure euphoria that overwhelmed you from the force of your climax.

All too soon, your body grew limp on the mattress, Joel slipping his fingers out of your pussy and cleaning them off with his mouth. He placed one last parting kiss on your twitching clit, kissing around your mound and inner thighs in an attempt to soothe you, leaving another smooch over your hip and floating up your body before meeting your face. You blinked up at him, cheeks heated at the way his lips plumped up from the work they did, his lower face shining in the lighting of your hotel room from your arousal.

You tugged him down for a passionate kiss, winding your tongue around his, devouring the tangy flavor of your release coating his mouth.

“Need you to fuck me,” you begged hastily against him, sneaky fingers going to haul Joel’s flannel from his softened tummy, craving more of him. “Please, Joel.”

“Baby, I would, I want to… didn’t bring anythin’ with me. Wasn’t even thinkin’ about doing somethin’ like this.” Ever the considerate man, of course he would be thinking about protection. Frankly, you could care less.

“Got tested a while ago and I’m covered. It’s fine, Joel. Trust me.” You bargained with him, sense thrown out the window as you clenched around nothing, wanting to be claimed and taken by the man you’ve fantasized about since going away for college, the man you’ve compared every previous partner to since the beginning. “Just want to feel you.”

“You will darlin’, you will. Not gonna leave you runnin’ on empty now. Not while I’m right here.”

Joel swiftly removed his jeans and briefs in one piece, hard cock bouncing between his legs as he undid the buttons of his flannel, peeling it off with your help. You released a lighthearted giggle when one of his arms got stuck in his white undershirt, mimicking your laugh and smirking at the appearance of your smile. His knees sank into the fluffy comforter of the bed underneath you, large hands taking hold of your hips and towing you closer to the edge.

“Thought that was funny?” he bantered above you, kissing your lips and enjoying the reciprocation of his actions, his length twitching beside your thigh.

“Maybe. It was cute…” you murmured, hand taking hold of him to pump his shaft with a jerk of your wrist, a shaky exhale falling from his lips. “Are you done teasing me now?”

“I might be. You’re gettin’ desperate?”

“For you to fuck me? Yes, I am.” Your thumb swiped over his tip, the sticky precum wetting your digit. “Been waiting too damn long.”

“Then put me inside darlin’. Let me feel you.”

You positioned him over your aching cunt, his hips thrusting over the seam of your pussy, sticky tip grinding into your sensitive clit. He felt good like this, mind running on empty imagining what he would feel like inside you. You didn’t have to imagine too much when his tip bumped into your entrance, his hips tentatively rolling to plunge into your waiting warmth, your hands jumping to clutch his freckled bicep. Joel didn’t stop pushing into you until he was down to the hilt, balls deep and groaning at the feel of your walls pulsing around his thickness, adjusting to his size.

Eyes beating closed, Joel put more of his weight on his forearms, breathing heavily through his nose to calm himself down, not focusing too much on how warm and wet you felt, wanting to last and make this experience good for you. Meanwhile, you had already lost all focus, the depth of him could be felt in your chest, widening your pelvis just to accommodate him.

“God, Joel,” you practically mewled under him, clamping around him once more, forcing Joel to open his eyes on you.

“Sweetheart, don’t…fuck don’t do that…” he panted, pinning your hips down into the mattress to keep you in place, trying not to cum too early. “Ain’t gonna make me last.”

“Just fuck me,” Joel had started to slowly bump into you, pulling his hips back and leaving half of him outside of you to plunge back inside, savoring the gasp you gave him. “Fuck me.”

“Look at you, already beggin’ for it. You like my cock that much darlin’? Like havin’ this old man fuck you right?”

“Yes.” Your wispy reply made Joel chuckle, a deep rumbling you felt inside you as he kept his steady pace. “So fucking deep.”

“Yeah? Feel me deep in ya?” You nodded dumbly, his forehead pressing into yours, your eyebrows furrowing as he hit that delicious textured spot tucked in the roof of your canal. Your legs wrapped around his waist, accepting his passionate kiss, unabashedly moaning into his mouth.

Joel began to pick up the pace, pouring all of his energy into the drives of his hips, listening to the high pitched whimpers that came out of you. He leaned forward a bit more, his hands raising the underside of your thighs, allowing him to slip just a tad deeper inside you. The angle brought a cry punching through your lungs, squirming under him from his consistent thrusts.

The hotel room filled with sounds of skin slapping, his heavy balls slapping into you, your slick covering the length of him every time he fucked into you, letting your pussy taste every gracious inch he had to give. You were getting close again, pawing at Joel’s broad chest and tightening your hips around his waist. He kept his deep and precise pace, sending the tip of him kissing your cervix with every pound.

“Joel,” you whined out, glassy eyes struggling to focus on him as your pussy grew taught around him, the tell tale signs of your pending orgasm creeping up on you, building in intensity as the hair at the base of him grazed your tender clit with every grind.

“I know, I know. Can feel you flutterin’ around me.” His words made you whimper, clutching at him harsher, your deep crimson nails creating fresh streaks down his back, leaving your mark for him to admire in the morning. “Let me feel it darlin’, need you to cum around me. C’mon baby, c’mon.”

With his gentle coaxing and a bite to the side of your jaw, you fell apart for him a second time, a wail resounding the walls of the bedroom, silently praying that the walls were relatively sound proof. Joel fucked you through your release, an audbile squelch filling the room as you soaked his cock, your thighs quivering as he milked your orgasm to finality.

“That’s it. That’s my fuckin’ girl.” His praise brought heat to your face and the tip of your ears, heart lurching at the thought of being his girl. “Fuck, where do you want me sweetheart?”

“Inside,” you pleaded meekly, head bouncing limply as he pounded harder into you, letting him use your cunt for his own release, making an effort to clamp around him as an invitation, wounding your legs tight around him with whatever strength you had left. “Please Joel. Fill me.”

“Christ. That fuckin’ mouth,” Joel was heaving now, sweat dripping down his brow and the bridge of his nose as his climax grew to profound heights, a tingling in his lower back that he could feel in his balls. “Gonna fill this pussy up ‘till you feel me tomorrow.”

Two more drives and Joel growled as he came inside you, his spend dribbling into every crevice and you took it all with a fucked out smile. You whizzed as your body tingled from the aftermath of fucking Joel Miller, a family friend that was significantly older than you, not like you cared all too much. Joel struggled to keep upright after his vigorous orgasm, pulling you with him as he laid down on his side, facing you.

“You alright?” Joel asked you once you gained your bearings, his palms rubbing your cheeks and keeping you present in the moment during your comedown.

“Mhm. Can’t really feel my legs.” You conceded with a grin, Joel following through and wearing the same blissful expression on his face.

“Means I did my job right then.” Tired chuckles replaced the sounds of panting, basking in the weightless feel of laying next to Joel like this.

He kept his palm on your cheek, caressing your heated skin and running his fingers over your jaw as you breathed in and out. You don’t recall a time where you ever felt this good, where you felt truly satisfied after being with someone or giving somebody access to your body in such a passionate way. Had you known you would’ve gotten that from Joel Miller of all people, you would’ve made a pass at him a long time ago and saved yourself the trouble of wasting your time with your mediocre ex.

A voice nagged in the back of your head, the echo of wondering what comes after this. You wondered what Joel was thinking in his foggy subconscious, if the post-coitial clarity was starting to hit him and he was second guessing what you two had done. You didn’t want the guilt to kick in just yet, to imagine the consequences and have them ruin the perfect manifestation of your biggest fantasy. You’ll both figure it out somehow, like you always did, right now, all you wanted was to enjoy Joel for as long as he’d allow.

“I wouldn’t mind having you stay the night, sleep off the rum and apple pie before you go home.” It was a flimsy suggestion, half serious and half not, but as you looked directly into those chocolate orbs of his, watching them soften at your inexplicit question. His lips turned upwards then, your heart hanging on to hope that maybe, you weren’t asking for too much.

“Yeah, I reckon that’s a good idea darlin’.” He leaned forward to kiss you again, much softer than how he had just rendered you boneless. “Like I said, you were always a smart one.”

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dotcie · 3 days ago

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MDNI | simon 'ghost' riley x afab!reader | no use of y/n, no mention of name, weight, hair style, or skin colour | use of nickname "dove" | ghost fucks you on shepherds desk. that‘s it.

The scream that climbs out of your lungs dies unaired, against rough skin, and the world explodes into motion.

You bite down on the bare palm covering your mouth, elbows digging into the body that traps you in place. Feet shuffle, and before you can even get your bearings enough to tap into your training to fight back, you're dragged into the closest room.

The door is pulled shut behind you, latching with a quiet little click, and you're spun around to face your opponent—back slamming against the slab of wood blocking your freedom. It takes you more seconds of struggling to recognise that the hand over your mouth is accompanied by familiar tattoos and that the man in front of you is, indeed, Simon.

"Don't scream," he says, all casual and loose.

His lips quirk with an utterly devilish smirk once he lets go of you, and your clenched fists crash down onto his chest immediately; trying to push him away, to make it hurt. You shove at him, aim for his face, but he doesn't yield—just grabs your wrists mid air like it's nothing.

"You fuck—fucking psychopath!" you spit, pulling and puffing in his tight grip, but he doesn't let go.

"Hey, hey—" Simon begins instead, voice growing softer, but he's laughing, and the sound of it is laced with a gravity that draws an ache into the rhythm of your own heartbeat.

"Let go of me!"

He slightly tilts his head as he stares down on you, gaze raking over your face as if he is searching for something—how serious you are, maybe. An indicator of how upset you are, perhaps. His eyes linger on the slight frown curving the corners of your lips and the anger in your eyes. You stare back fiercely, heart caught in your throat.

"Sorry," he says, the shadow of a grin ghosting over his lips as he finally lets go of you.

"I'm going to kill you," you snarl back, palming your wrist.

"Y'wouldn't be the first to try, dove."

He says it in that same monotone manner he always does, and you heave a deep sigh, tipping your head back against the door for an agonizing beat—as though you're horribly exhausted by this little game of his.

Yet, he seems unmoved, his eyes unreadable. You've gritted your teeth for years at his silence, just to now drag it on out of spite.

You let your eyes roam through the dark room you've been dragged into. Ceiling-high bookshelves, expensive leather chairs, and a solid wood desk fill the room. There's no question that this must be Shepherd's office, and you swallow the question of how Simon managed to get in here. When you shake your head at him in silence disapproval instead, he blinks back at you unmoved.

It's the first time you get a good look at him since you left him in Brixton. He's in a plain, dark blue uniform, a row of medals clinging to the left side of his left chest. It's been a while since you've seen him in formal attire, and your eyes linger a little bit too long on his broad frame before they move up and take in his scarred face. The jaw you know, the crooked nose, the dark eyes that often carry a brutal, pale expression—now looking down on you soft and open.

"No mask, huh?" You hate how the words come out low and peeved, an exhale that flutters like a leaf carried adrift by strong winds.

"They said it'd be unbecoming to the other guests."

You laugh, just a breath, and your face crumples into a hundred shades of grief with it. The way his voice folds gently around your name immediately makes everything much worse.

"Look, y'told me not to contact you, and I didn't, alright, but we're both here and—shite, I dunno. Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe—"

"How much have you been drinking?"

"Lost count. It's Johnny's fault, really—you look stunning, have I told you yet?"

"You did." — "Good."

You freeze as he steps closer, but you don't pull away. Simon lets his touch linger, slowly skimming his fingertips over your jaw. He catches the way your breath quickens, and how your gaze flickers to his lips. You swallow hard, trying to breathe past the sudden thundering of your heart against your ribs. The flare of heat that sears through your veins is a warning, and the familiar longing cleaving you in two is just as sharp and unforgiving. You make an annoyed face at him for it, wanting to claw at his face and rip his clothes off at the same time.

"Let me kiss you," he murmurs, touching you like it's a question.

Your heart is in the back of your throat. Although you try to swallow it, your voice comes out as little more than a whisper. "Simon, I—"

He moves anyway, bridges the gap between you, and your hands move to his chest. Your breath catches and tangles up in your ribs, like it's the first time you've ever been here, the first time he's looking at you with this intensity that's palpable, that's alive and tangible and real.

Your hands on his chest curl into fists. "C'mon, don't do this, we talked about—"

He doesn't let you finish, kissing the words right out of your mouth.

Simon pours all his feelings— every drop of love he holds for you in his heart, every last fraying thread of longing, everything—into the kiss. You tremble under the warmth of his lips, cursing yourself for giving in, for meeting him here alone. You're not a good person—you are a terrible person, and you're not going to stop, because now Simon is sucking in your bottom lip, and inching his hands up your thighs, up over your hips, palming your ass, and it feels good and it is terrible and he wants you just like this, and you—

Simon picks you up by the thighs, and there's no room in your head to protest; you wrap your arms and legs around him instead, deepening the kiss like you're starved for it. He crosses the room effortlessly, kicking a chair out of the way with his foot with a screech, before setting you down on the cool surface of Shepherd's desk.

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muletia · 1 day ago

Text

𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

[tfp] obsessed!starscream x human!reader

summary: still feeling megatron's claws all over his body, starscream goes to visit the only person who can let him forget the horrors of abuse - you

cw: hurt/comfort, angst, megatron abuses starscream, slight gore, established (but it's complicated) relationship, very ooc starscream, get catified idiot; yandere themes: obsessive thoughts, possessiveness and jealousy, emotional manipulation, clinginess and unhealthy behavior; valveplug with plot: gentle!dom!top!reader, sub!bottom!starscream, backshots (starscream receiving), reader uses a strap (referred as cock a few times), overstimulation, praise kink

word count: 5450

inspired by this ask, bless you for it anon 🙏 :

He isn’t sure what provoked the attack. Did he speak too soon? Stepped into Megatron's personal space? Maybe the warlord noticed his mind wandering for a few nanokliks, wishing the speech would end so he could return to you. Or maybe he didn’t need a reason. Perhaps no provocation was ever necessary for Megatron to lash out. To hit, crush, scratch, humiliate him in front of everyone. Sometimes, all it took was a bad mood and a single glance to spill energon. Often, Megatron didn’t need a reason at all to vent his fury. A whim was enough — a need to display aggression, to assert forced, undeserved dominance.

Starscream doesn’t want to think about it anymore. He’s suffered enough physically. Instead, he focuses on you, channeling the gentleness you always showed him, the calculated grace of your movements. You always knew how to make him forget, even if only for a fleeting moment.

Bruised and aching, he impatiently awaits the meeting’s end. He tries to remain inconspicuous, to seem smaller than he is, hoping to avoid further humiliation, because clawing out optics of every bot present is not an option. He longs to return to you immediately, but for now, he must pretend to be the model soldier, still invested in the cause. He wonders if anyone truly cares anymore, if anyone other than Megatron still remembers the original ideals of the Decepticons and adheres to them. Does even the warlord himself believe in what he’s fighting for? He quickly abandons the thought, redirecting his focus back to you.

When the meeting finally concludes, he forces himself to walk out with composed, deliberate steps, hiding the urgency in his pedes, the way they ache to carry him out of this hell. The icy chill of the ship bites at his spark, but he waits patiently for Megatron’s dismissal, mocking the absurdity of the situation in his mind. Once granted permission, he exits the bridge alongside Knockout, who naturally heads toward the medbay, assuming Starscream will follow, but is visibly surprised when seeker doesn’t join him, instead limping stubbornly away.

"Hey, Starscream, get your aft to the medbay!" Knockout calls out.

"I don’t need your help, Knockout," Starscream replies venomously.

"Oh, really? Whose help do you need, then?" Knockout retorts, voice dripping with sarcasm. "To the medbay, before I lose my patience."

"I’m not going anywhere with you," Starscream growls. "So drop it. As long as I’m still standing, I’m fine."

"You’ve got seven lacerations, three puncture wounds, and two gunshot injuries.” he starts counting on his digits “Not to mention countless scratches. I don’t know what kind of world you live in where this counts as 'fine.'" Knockout steps closer, grabbing the stubborn seeker’s arm. "Stop resisting and let me fix you, you idiot."

Knockout’s touch feels cold, piercing like a thousand needles against mesh, gripping tightly as if intending to crush his arm, though Starscream knows it’s just an illusion. He doesn’t want such an unpleasant connection, doesn’t want to be associated with metal and its rigidity right now nor with surgical tools or Knockout’s detached approach to patching wounds.

He doesn’t want to be on the Nemesis, feeling useless, insignificant, and discarded. He wants to be with you, to feel your touch, hear your voice. Now.

He can’t endure it any longer.

"Let go!" he snarls, yanking his arm free with a dramatic sweep, immediately stepping back, closer to you. "I said I don’t want your help, didn’t I?! So leave me alone and go buff that hollow helm of yours!"

Before Knockout can fire back with a sharp retort, Starscream transforms and takes off, leaving behind nothing but a cyan puddle and a trail of exhaust fumes and energon.

"Everyone on this ship has lost their minds," the medic mutters.

It doesn’t take Starscream long to orient himself, to calculate the route to reach you. He immediately sets off toward the coordinates, forcing himself to ignore the searing pain that courses through his frame, the open, leaking wounds that drip energon he knows will eventually hit the ground. It’s reckless to draw attention, but he casts caution aside, overwhelmed by the desperate need for comfort.

From a distance, he spots you lounging in a hammock, absorbed in a book, soaking up the warm rays of the spring sun. Will you be upset if he interrupts you? When he imposes his selfish needs, bringing with him vivid evidence of the horror he endured, likely ruining your peace and cheerful mood. He knows you won’t turn him away or be angry about his unannounced visit, but he can’t shake the feeling that his presence is always unwelcome. Everywhere.

No matter how you react, no matter what you say, he won’t leave. He needs to feel your soft hands on him, convinced they’ll erase the sensation of Megatron’s fists against his plating, help him forget the claws tearing through metal, the smashing against walls, and the weight pressing his pedes to the floor. You’ll envelop not just his processor but his body as well, wrapping him in an illusion of carefreeness and convincing him, with your unparalleled talent, that everything is alright.

He sees you tilt your head from the hammock, scanning the sky for his silhouette, a smile gracing your lips when you finally spot him. You wave cheerfully, setting the book aside into the hammock’s folds. But your joy quickly fades as his alt-mode hurtles straight toward you. Before you can escape or let out a shout, Starscream transforms mid-air, landing above the hammock with you caught beneath him.

He looks down at you, and a wave of relief washes over him. He made it. Finally, he’s safe.

“Boo,” he teases.

The journey cost him more energy than he’d anticipated. To prevent collapsing, he braces himself against the massive tree in front of him. Only now does he truly feel how drained he is, how much his injuries ache. But none of it matters — he’s here with you, and for the first time in hours, the pain dulls and the cold from the Nemesis dissipates.

"Holy shit, Starscream!" you exclaim beneath him. "You almost gave me a heart attack! Never do that shit again, understand?!"

"Good to see you too," he retorts with a scoff. His legs tremble and wings sag unnaturally low, yet somehow, he feels infinitely better than he did on the Nemesis. There’s warmth here, a sense of solace.

He watches as your expression shifts — you grow pale, scanning his frame with those beautiful, observant little eyes. Fear crosses your face as you immediately climb out of the hammock. A few droplets of energon hit the ground near your feet.

You don’t ask who did this or why. You know him well enough to understand why he sometimes arrives with injuries, armed with a plethora of grievances to share. But he’s never appeared to you so broken before.

"My God, Starscream, why didn’t you let someone patch you up?"

He rolls his optics. You don’t need to know about the desperation that drove him here, his overwhelming need to reach you as quickly as possible. "Because I had more important matters on my mind," he dodges. "Now, hand over some energon."

Skeptically, you drop the topic and open the shed where you keep a few barrels of refined energon, stored specifically for emergencies like this.

"Here you go, though I doubt this will solve all of our problems."

His wings twitch upward at the word "our."

"As if I don’t have everything under control," he huffs, limping toward a barrel and drinking it greedily, yet somehow maintaining an air of grace.

"You always do," you reply sarcastically, fully aware of how often he misses the subtlety of your playful tone. The faint smile hidden behind the half-full barrel confirms your suspicion. After finishing the first, he reaches for another.

"Feeling better?" you ask gently.

He takes your care to spark, letting it flood through his frame.

"Slightly," he admits because the word incomparably got stuck in his intake.

He tosses the empty energon container aside without care, locking his optics onto you as you continue to scan his injuries.

"I’ll grab a towel," you announce, turning toward the house.

Ha, you’re going to leave him? Now, when he needs you most? No, you don’t have the right. You can’t hurt him like that.

"You’re not going anywhere."

Before you can even touch the doorknob, you feel long, slender claws wrap around your forearm. They pull you back with a soft "eep" escaping your lips until you land against his chassis, your shirt now smeared with energon.

"Seriously? Do you know how hard it is to get energon stains out?"

"You’ll manage," he replies, his servos already playing with your hair. His wings tremble slightly, betraying the emotions he struggles to suppress. "I’ve never seen blue stains on that pathetic, soft armor of yours."

"Clothes," you correct him.

"Unimportant."

Holding you in his arms, he truly feels that everything is alright. The open wounds don’t sting as fiercely as they did moments ago, his battered body can rest, and his processor is enveloped by a rare sense of peace. Everything feels better when you’re near, when your unimaginable softness surrounds him, and your tiny hands stroke his chassis, careful to avoid every wound. It’s soothing, and comforting, to have someone who brings solace just to him. To belong to someone, as much as he belongs to you. Almost cozy.

But soon, merely holding you isn’t enough. It’s unsatisfying, incomplete. Always craving luxuries, he wants more, and he wants it now.

He leans in, kissing your neck greedily while his servo slips beneath your shirt, making his desires abundantly clear.

"Starscream," you chide, "there’s a puddle of energon under you."

"Good thing I don’t care," he mutters between kisses, with no intention of stopping.

“And will you start caring when I say I won’t let you into bed in this state?”

"Stop ruining the mood," he hisses. "I don’t need your berth to interface!"

"But I do," you reply calmly, unfazed by his accusatory tone. To emphasize your point, you cross your arms over your chest, creating a small but significant distance between you. Starscream loathes this gesture, hates the boundary it creates between you. He wants to erase it, destroy it because whether you realize it or not, you hurt him with your cruelty. You set a boundary he never wanted to feel between you again.

"Star, you know I only want what’s best for you, right?"

"And that’s why you want to leave me, huh? Fine, go ahead, leave and never come back if you can’t be bothered to pay attention to me!" He releases you, and this time it's him crossing his arms over his chassis, but defensively, for comfort. Without you near, an unbearable, chilling loneliness takes hold of him and he despises it. “You have the incredible opportunity to interface with me, and you’re turning me down because of a little energon stain? Foolish human, if only you understood what honor I bestow on you by allowing you to even touch me.”

"It’ll only take me a minute," you reassure him, cupping his mauled faceplate in your hand. Starscream tries to resist the trap, to demonstrate the seriousness of his words through his body language, but within a nanoklik, he knows you have caught him. He leans into your hand, now smeared with energon, savoring the scraps of attention you offer. His wings flutter joyfully, and his engines hum softly, imitating a purr, a telltale sign of his true feelings, unspoken and originating from his very spark. “You’re a good mech. You’ll wait for me, won’t you?”

He stomps his pede and taps his claws against his arm, wrestling with his thoughts. A single compliment, and he’s already willing to do anything you ask, just to earn another, as if enchanted.

"You have exactly one klik. And you’d better hurry because I’ll be counting."

You disappear into the house, and he battles the urge to follow, to accompany you everywhere in pursuit of the phenomenon that is your touch and its incredible power to immerse him in pleasure. What a cruel joke, he thinks, as a few nanokliks pass and the pain creeps back. His wings droop and his frame begins to tremble, betraying the weakness and torment he carries within. He doesn’t want to be alone — can’t bear the lack of you any longer, though not even a single klik has passed. Feeling as if the cold has intensified, mocking him just like it did back on the Nemesis, he hugs himself tighter.

"[Name]?" he calls out weakly, his voice lonely, pathetic, like an addict in withdrawal.

He steps forward but collapses mid-motion, his journey ending there.

"I’m here! And what, I made it in time, didn’t I?" you ask playfully, though your tone quickly shifts to concern when you see the trembling seeker. "Hey, it’s okay. I’m not leaving you again," you assure warmly. "I’m not going anywhere."

"Have you finally realized what an honor it is to be in my presence?" His self-admiration returns, a defensive mechanism to shield his vulnerable, true self. With the last bits of his strength, he suppresses his shaking as you guide him to sit on the ground, which he complies with. You shift slightly to the side to avoid the sharp edges of his armor on his knees.

"Star, it’s been an honor from the very beginning," you assure him, gently dabbing at his wounds with a towel. You press it against his chassis, ignoring his winces and hisses, soothing him instead with soft strokes along his cheek.

"So, you do have some sense after all. For a human, that is."

"Thanks, I try," you reply, moving to the largest wound and tending to it with a fresh towel. "But I’m afraid you’ll still need to see a medic, erm, what was his name again… Knockout?"

Oh, he dislikes how easily you utter another’s name, inviting its owner into his sanctuary. Jealousy claws at his spark, fuelling anger, because you should know and adore only his name. No one else is necessary for your happiness.

He regrets ever telling you the medic’s name.

A sudden urge to merge his glossa with your tongue overwhelms him. To erase the taste of the intruder. But he restrains himself when he sees the genuine concern etched on your face. Starscream doesn’t want to ruin this moment, this rare display of sincerity, though his jealousy remains. Instinctively, his wings raise higher, making him appear larger, desperate for your attention.

"Don’t say that idiot’s name," he growls. "From now on, I’m the only mech you’re allowed to address. Understand? No one else deserves it."

"Hm, good thing the only mech I interact with is you," you say. Starscream doesn’t bother hiding the smug smile spreading across his faceplate, his wings trembling with satisfaction… until you add "But I’m not kidding, you need medical help and best I can do is very basic care."

"Have you not realized yet that that’s all I need? Think, if I wanted to see a medic, I’d have gone to one instantly."

He dislikes the way you’re looking at him, as if you don’t believe him, even though he’s laid his cards bare for you. How can he explain that he sped toward you recklessly, risking everything, because he needed you, not Knockout, not specialized instruments, nor the familiar texture of an operating table beneath him? How can he make you understand that with just your touch, you’ve repaired him more effectively than the Decepticon medic could dream of? Would you ever truly grasp how much you mean to him, how much he’s willing to sacrifice for you? Probably not, he thinks bitterly. He’ll never be able to convey it through gestures, words, or even the most tender acts of affection.

"I just don’t want you to suffer," you confess sincerely.

His silence speaks volumes — it tells you that he can’t grant you this wish.

"Oh, Star," you sigh.

"What?" he hisses. "Do you think it’s that easy when you are being punished for merely existing?"

"I… I know. I’m sorry," you reply, your voice laced with such raw remorse that it’s as if you’d struck him. Once, he might have relished your guilt, your groveling for sins he never wanted to be atoned for but deserved. Yet now, he just wants to scrape that remorse off your face, to bury it deep and forever. He longs for your sincere, cheerful smile, the one that crinkles your eyelids, softens your features, and radiates enough warmth to thaw even his cold, egoistic spark.

But your expression brings back unwanted memories of today’s horrors. For a moment, his mind drifts back to the Nemesis bridge, to the echoes of his own screams reverberating against the walls, the thrashing, the scent of energon, and the tyrant treating his body like a toy. For a fleeting instant, he was convinced this time Megatron would truly break him, kill him, and he wouldn’t even get the chance to say goodbye to you.

He doesn’t want to remember — not here, not with you, especially when you need him. So he resorts to the one trick that helps him forget, hoping you’ll forgive him for it.

He buries his helm in the crook of your neck and begins kissing, silently pleading for interface, a counterbalance to the agony, because maybe if you frag him hard enough his mind will finally break, freeing him from Megatron’s torment.

"Am I clean enough for your bed now?" he asks between kisses. His servo slides under your shirt again, while the other finds your butt, massaging it without subtlety.

"Yes, you are now," you reply, your voice half-lost in a breathy sigh.

Starscream leans forward, almost pressing his entire weight against you, losing himself in you. If not for your gentle reminder, a hand on his chassis, he might have released his spike here and now, demanding mindless, wild fragging under the open sky.

"Bed, remember?"

"You and your impossible demands," he mutters but complies, fully submissive only to you. The change of location doesn’t stop him, though, he continues nibbling and caressing your delicate skin, undeterred even as you bend to pick up the soiled towels and rise to lead him inside.

"Say something nice to me," he demands, still clinging to you as you guide him toward the house.

"You’re relentless. Strong, because you keep pushing forward. W-warm…" Your voice breaks as his servo brushes against your chest. "And so beautiful. I couldn’t dream of a more stunning mech."

Vasking in the genuine praise, he moans into your neck and quickens the movements of his servo, now roaming all over your body — exploring, eager to take everything he possibly could for himself.

Your home is spacious enough for him to stand upright, his wings slightly lowered. Though such tight, enclosed spaces once felt like torture for the seeker, he’s come to appreciate your strange, human dwelling. Here, he feels safe, surrounded by the comforting presence of your scent. Because only here he can stop pretending to be someone and fully accept that he is yours.

Dropping the towels by the front door, you move toward a cabinet where you keep supplies for occasions like this, but having a leech clinging to your neck — one evidently unwilling to let go for even a second — makes it especially awkward.

"Star, wait," you plead. Turning your head to look at him, you find him too preoccupied with leaving love bites on your neck to notice your attempt to meet his gaze. He only hums softly to signal he’s listening. "How do you want to handle this?"

His answer comes without hesitation. "Make me forget."

You know exactly what he means. "As you wish, love."

You hastily remove your pants and underwear, reaching for the strap you’d prepared earlier.

"Go get ready," you instruct, nodding toward the bed. Aside from this brief, vague command, you leave the rest to him. He can decide in which position you’ll rearrange his insides.

"Starscream," you chide again as he continues to toy with your skin — both at your neck and your stomach, where one servo has come to rest.

He has no desire to stop touching you, to abandon the contact for even the short moments you need to prepare. Not when he so desperately needs you. Yet the tingling pleasure from his valve and the swollen spike tapping against the panel now dictate his actions. The directive is clear: make his processor think of nothing but you.

Reluctantly, with a trademark dose of dramatics, he detaches himself from your back, letting you do what you need. "Fine," he groans, making his way to your velvet berth. He rests his chassis and long, slender arms on it, sinking into the softness (though it still doesn’t compare to yours) and his interface panel retracts, exposing the toys you love to play with. Deliberately, he angles his aft toward you, ensuring you see how neglected he is, how much he needs you, tempting your self-control to deal with him immediately.

"How long are you going to make me wait?"

"Just a second," you soothe. He hears you fumbling with your endearing silicone toy, followed by the sound of your sharp intake of breath. Tilting his helm slightly, he glances back at you and grins triumphantly at the hungry, dreamy look on your face. The plan worked.

To entice you further, he gives his aft a calculated wiggle.

"You like teasing, don’t you?" you murmur, stepping closer and gripping his hips. You steady yourself, aligning the tip of your cock to the entrance of his needy, hot valve. "So beautiful," you whisper.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" he snaps back playfully. "You’re no better in that regard. How much longer do I ha — AHH!"

Before he can fully dive into another dramatic complaint, you thrust your cock deep into his slick valve, successfully silencing his tirade. His pedes shoot upward in response, and his previously relaxed, widely spread wings now draw closer together, trembling visibly. You enjoy the show before you, always having been fascinated by their expressiveness, especially since their owner likes to hide his true feelings. They’re a window to his soul, a delightfully honest indicator of how well you’re loving him.

"F-finally…" he whimpers, pushing himself harder against the silicone, eager to feel it reach the deepest parts of his valve, as though he wants it to enter even his tank, making his entire frame bask in the pleasure you’re providing.

He’s always considered himself a tough mech to please when it comes to interfacing — rarely satisfied, and even more rarely willing to open his panel to anyone. To him, such access is a privilege to be earned. But when it’s you exploring his inner workings with deliberate thrusts of your hips, Starscream spreads his legs wider, making your job easier. Isn’t he generous, letting you join the exclusive few who get to interface with him? Doesn’t he deserve praise and adoration for it?

"You’re not even trying…" he taunts, voice trembling. "You were supposed to turn me into your mindless toy, ah! And yet I still AHH!"

You cut off his rant by firmly grasping the base of his larger wings.

"Anything else you’d like to add, darling?" you tease, your rhythm steady and deliberate as you continue to thrust.

Still ramming your hips, pushing the toy deep into him only to let go immediately and repeat the process, you bend over him now having better access to the sensitive and delicate wings. You massage them at the base, where they meld with his back, drawing meaningless patterns and occasionally kneading, watching with a sense of triumph as the proud creature beneath you trembles all over and clamps his servo tightly around your sheets, exposing pure, unfiltered ecstasy.

"Starscream, we’ve only just begun…" you say, feigning disappointment, still caressing his sensitive wings. You can hear his engines roaring loudly, and his cooling vents struggling to keep up with the heat radiating from his frame, which has grown unbearably warm, pleasantly heating the tips of your fingers.

"Shut, agh! Shut up…" he growls weakly, his words slurred and broken by moans and whines.

Your pace is relentless. Your cock slides effortlessly inside, gliding against slick walls and pushing pleasurably, but it can’t savor the sensation with how quickly you aim to finish and bring this to its sweet conclusion. Yet he can’t pout about it when you’re so attentively tormenting his valve and vibrating wings. You care not just for his insides but his outer shell, too.

He feels as though his whole body is on fire, like his own anatomy will fail to handle the heat and explode, burning both you and himself. But he still wants more, wants to be gracefully ravaged, to climax so many times he loses count. To transform into your ideal plaything so you won’t need anyone else. His valve, his spike, his glossa, and digits. Only his. His, his, his!

“W-why are you, agh! so quiet?!” he stammers, oblivious to how he’s contradicting himself. “Don’t ignore me! L-love! Haah, adore! Worship…” he begs.

He’s no longer lying idly, passively letting you penetrate him. He begins moving his hips, quickly matching your rhythm and milking your shaft with even greater fervor and intensity.

“So beautiful…” you murmur, straining to reach his trembling wings with your lips. “So wonderful,” you add, mere millimeters above the gray metal.

You kiss the scars and marks left by particularly sharp claws that carved canyons into his delicate wings.

“My pretty Star, doing so well.”

Starscream can feel the care you pour into each kiss, and it’s enough to make his spike spasm and tremble, heralding fireworks. Yet he knows he must ask your permission to release the accumulated transfluid.

“Ah, ah, I’m… I’m close!” he howls, voice glitching, engines whining, and cooling fans falling behind. “I beg you, haah, please let me overload!”

You kiss him tenderly over another marred spot and allow yourself a few more thrusts to coax out those exotically strange but delightful cries of pleasure.

“Go ahead, my beautiful one, overload for me.”

Pink transfluid gushes from his spike, spilling over the panels amid loud screams and moans. But you don’t stop yet, knowing full well that one release won’t be enough, not with him and his inhuman endurance. Instead of pulling back, you lean in, running your fingertips over his sleek, intricate back now arched gracefully. You explore the valleys and ridges of his back strut, admiring its exotic design, unaware that the valve you’re docked in is trying to milk you, tightly clenched around your cock, signaling his desire for more. He wants more, wants you.

“You did wonderfully,” you praise and kiss his back a few times, earning a melodious whimper.

With trembling servos still clutching the bedding, Starscream is convinced he’s ascended to paradise. How else could he explain the overwhelming bliss you so generously bestow upon him? How can he rationalize the way his field of vision is dotted with hearts, his valve pulsing in time with your heartbeat? He has to stay here longer, to discover what else you have to offer him.

As if it were possible, he presses his aft harder into your cock, goading you to continue the play.

“W-what are you waiting for? We’re not done yet!”

“Ask nicely”

Oh, how he despises those games of yours, yet he eagerly awaits them, knowing they always come with a reward. Impatiently, he moves his aft, pleasuring himself now. The valve slides off your cock only to devour it again, savoring its dangerous proximity to his tank until his spike starts to shudder. He’s trying to entice you to move, to abandon your stillness, even though he knows it’s all part of the game, a fact you swiftly remind him of as you grip his hips firmly to hold him in place.

He turns his helm to gauge you, to test how far he can push, but seeing your chastising gaze, he stops teasing, pressing himself tightly against your hips once more and moaning from the feeling of disarming, carefree fullness that makes his valve burst.

“Hngh, please!” he pleads. “Ah, I can’t hold on any longer. I beg you, let me overload again, ah! Please…”

“Good mech,” you praise, resuming your thrusts, feeding his still-hungry valve with your synthetic shaft, dragging it over his abused, slick walls.

“Haah, thank you! Th-thank you!” he cries, claws raking the delicate bedding.

“Mhm, for my most magnificent mech, absolutely anything,” you adore him as he asked, placing kisses along his arched back, especially on his battered and tender wings.

There’s not a shred of romance in how you treat his valve. It’s primitive, animalistic rutting meant to rob him of breath from nonexistent lungs, to make his legs quake with excess pleasure, his claws pierce through the bedding completely, and most of all, to make him forget. The complete opposite of the tenderness and love you bestow on his back, ensuring every scratch you can reach taste your affection.

“The most magnificent,” you murmur.

After several more powerful thrusts, magenta transfluid spills onto your floor again, mixing with droplets from the last climax.

“The most wonderful,” you add.

Starscream climaxes again.

“The most beautiful.”

And again.

“The most perfect.”

And again. Again and again.

“Captivating.”

Until the moans turn into howls and only small, adorable pearls drip from his spike, as there’s nothing left to give.

“My Lord Starscream.”

Until your bedding is soaked with coolant, which also coats his chin.

“Star, for fuck’s sake, I can’t keep going.”

Until your hips themselves refuse to obey. You manage to push him into one more empty overload before withdrawing smoothly and unceremoniously, collapsing against the bed with labored breaths. You already know your hips will be sore tomorrow, but for now, you’re more concerned about the state of your thoroughly ravaged partner. To make sure you haven’t caused a short circuit in his processor, you turn your head toward him, unable to suppress a strange, barbaric sense of pride at the sight of his blank, foolish expression, glossa hanging out, optics rolled far back. Because you were the one who brought the great, megalomaniacal Starscream to bliss, and it’s a sight reserved solely for you.

“Hey, Star, how’re you feeling?” you ask gently, shifting closer to him and reaching for his helm, immediately beginning to stroke it. This seems to bring him back to life as he blinks a few times, as if reminding himself of the world he’s in, and finally focuses his optics on you. His drooped wings lift at the sight of you, his engines, now quieter, start whirring again, and — most surprisingly — Starscream smiles faintly but sincerely, with pure bliss, devoid of malice or mockery.

It’s hard not to mirror that smile and tuck it deep in your heart, a gesture he clearly takes as an invitation to move closer.

“Star?” you call, but he ignores you, more intent on invading your personal space than answering. He leans in to nestle his helm in the crook of your neck. For a moment, you think he’ll start nipping and sucking, demanding more, but he surprises you again, wrapping you in a loose but possessive embrace.

Now the grating sound of his engines shifts into a purr that vibrates through your chest, reaching your heart. It’s an odd sensation, like holding a working speaker to your chest, but you can’t deny that it’s pleasant and relaxing, almost lulling you to sleep if not for the distracting engine hum. Wanting to return the favor for this peculiar massage, you start gently stroking his helm, unable to stop thinking that you’re petting an oversized, cunning cat.

“You didn’t do… atrociously,” he finally speaks, dangerously close to your ear. “For a human, of course.”

You couldn’t have hoped for higher praise.

“Thanks. You were incredible too,” you reply, showing him how it’s done, though you doubt he understands, especially since his wings twitch slightly, pleased with the compliment.

For a moment, silence reigns as you both recover, but you’re forced to break it when you suddenly realize you need water. Turns out, constantly showering your insatiable partner with compliments can really dry out your throat.

“Star,” you begin.

As if he has access to your brain, he tightens his hold around you, his purring intensifying.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he declares. “You won’t leave me.”

You merely sigh and return to stroking his helm.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #obsessed!starscream #yandere!transformers

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beomiracles · 3 hours ago

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𝓑𝐋𝓞𝓞𝐃𝓑𝓞𝓤𝐍𝐃

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Oh, you. So pretty, young and alive. Blood flows within your veins, carrying all the way to your beating heart, the one he can hear from miles away. Your breath hitches when his sharp fangs brush against your neck, your eyes flutter before they widen in fear. — God it drove him insane. ⸝⸝

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ wc, 2.5k ་༘࿐

𝓹airing vampire!taehyun x human!reader (f) 𝔀arnings kidnapping, imprisonment, blood drinking, heavy dub-con, reader suffers from depression, mentions of suicide, unprotected sex + creampie, no prep, death threats, reader is terrified for the half of it & taehyun is a cold heartless mf, he nearly kills reader, taehyun develops something that borders on lima syndrome toward the end.

#serene adds ✎.. light snack while I work on my larger projects :3 I'm seriously hoping to finish ttocbg soon, I just need to pull the motivation out of my ass and get to it >-<

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT, READ WARNINGS CAREFULLY.

It was supposed to be a one time thing.

Yet Taehyun finds himself unable to let you go. He tells himself that it was only out of convenience. To keep a human at home, within the high walls of his estate, it was comfortable. It meant he didn’t have to leave and hunt as often. No, he could satiate himself for a moment, thanks to you.

Oh, you. So pretty, young and alive. Blood flows within your veins, carrying all the way to your beating heart, the one he can hear from miles away. Your breath hitches when his sharp fangs brush against your neck, your eyes flutter before they widen in fear. — God it drove him insane.

The first time Taehyun had laid his crimson eyes upon you, he knew that one taste wouldn’t be enough. He would need you for as long as he could. Nothing could quite still his desires like you, and nothing could fuel them the same. — So he kept you. He even tended to your human needs. Taehyun thinks they make you worthless. Unable to suffice a whole day without sleep, needing three meals a day. Not to mention the sunlight you so begged of him to see.

Humans were high maintenance, he quickly learned that. Still, he was willing to accept those terms, if it meant another taste of you. But Taehyun wasn’t stupid, he knew that he couldn’t just take and take, then there would be nothing left of you. — He would wait. Feed. Then wait again. The wait was damn near agonizing. Your scent was everywhere, clinging to the walls of his home and sinking into the cracks of his floors.

Sometimes he would leave for days, when the urge to tear you apart completely became too strong. You never questioned his absence, in fact, Taehyun sometimes wondered if you perhaps even enjoyed it. Though he didn’t care for your feelings toward him. They were unimportant.

You were intimate every now and again. It was unexplainable really. Sometimes he felt like it, others he didn’t. You were the same. You usually cried, glistening tears coating your soft and pretty face, your broken sobs ringing out into the quiet bedroom air. Other times you remained silent, save for the occasional gasp to slip between your lips. — You always thanked him afterward.

Thanked him for sparing your life.

Your gratitude confused him. Taehyun couldn’t quite understand what about your situation was so appealing. It wasn’t like he was going to kill you. He wanted no, needed you alive. Did you not understand that? Still you begged and pleaded for your life during your first three months there, for days on end you fell to your knees in prayer before him.

It had been well over a year now, and that had stopped. — But that wasn’t all. Something was different, you were different. Fear had abandoned you completely, and now lingered nothing but an empty shell of the human he’d taken all those months ago. You hardly leave your room, not that you did before, but now you’re even refusing meals.

Depression, that’s what he thinks it’s called. A state which humans can undergo when they’re not right in the head, or something like that. Taehyun didn’t bother to read up on the matter any further. All he knows is that you’re unhappy. Your skin is slowly turning a greyish hue and your eyes, once filled with terror, now look lifeless. You looked like him.

It makes your blood taste bitter. And Taehyun hates it.

He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what will make you happy again. Letting you go was not an option. He wouldn’t trade his source of fulfillment for a mere human’s sake. But he needed to do something about it. — He tries letting you outside more. He walks through his large gardens, eyes trailing your tired figure as you brush past the many blooming flowers. You no longer appeared skittish around him, merely accepting of his ever looming presence.

When the extra sunlight proves futile he tries new foods, bringing you a greater variety to choose from. But you merely shrug and grab the first thing you see, shoving it in your mouth as you struggle to swallow. It was as if your whole body rejected life itself. — Taehyun grew all the more restless. He even refrained from feeding off of you, allowing you to save your precious blood for a full two months, thinking that it would make a difference.

You did not get better, and he got worse.

He’s had enough. There must be something, something he can do to force any other emotion out of you. He doesn’t even dare leave his home for more than a few hours, afraid that you will find a way to end your pathetic human life in his absence. He couldn’t have that.

So one night, he finds himself stalking up the stairs with the determined and fast strides. His fingers clenched into fists by his sides, his red eyes locked on the door by the far end of the hall. When he reaches it he stops, taking a slow and deliberate breath. It wasn’t like he even needed the air, but the sensation was calming. He exhales. Then he quietly slips inside your room.

It’s dark, the only source of light is the moon, resting high above the clouds as its glow caresses your bare skin. You slept a lot more these days, and tonight was no different. But Taehyun had held back for long enough, he’d tried to accommodate your every need, he’d been walking on eggshells for over two months and deprived himself of the only thing that kept him on this earth, your blood.

His cold breath ghosts over your cheek, his fingers light as they trace your arms. He turns you slowly, making you lay flat on your back as he immediately leans down to nose along the juncture of your neck. He’d caught the slow and steady sounds of your heartbeat before he even decided to go upstairs, and now that he was this close, the sound was near pounding in his ears. Blood rushes beneath your warm skin, and Taehyun licks his sharp fangs slowly as he eyes your perfectly healed skin. God it had been ages.

You stir only when his lips press against your neck. The soft whine rolling off your tongue makes his ears perk and Taehyun can’t contain his smirk as his fangs graze along your supple flesh. Confused and still laced with sleep, you squirm beneath him as you attempt to get away, but Taehyun's grip on your arms is firm as he locks you in place.

Quickly you realize what was going on, and your body goes limp in his grasp, as if someone had turned on autopilot. For some reason, it makes him waver. A grimace of disgust flickers across his face. This isn’t how he wants it. It’s no fun when you act like this. — His hands are rough as he yanks you off the mattress, bringing you to his face by the collar of your shirt.

“Do you want to die, is that it?” He snarls, his nose pressed against yours when he speaks. To his surprise, he finds you staring back at him with wide and shocked eyes. He can hear the way your heart rate picks up, and he can feel the rush of blood as adrenaline courses through you. — “I’ll fucking kill you then, how about that?” His sharp fangs glint under the moonlight and Taehyun watches as your expression morphs from confusion to fear.

Oh how he’d missed that look on you.

Fervently you shake your head, spluttering out a shaky “N-No..!” Taehyun huffs, shoving you back against the mattress with a harsh push. His tongue is hot against your skin when he drags it across your jaw, and it pleases him when your breath hitches in your throat, just like it did before. He takes one final moment to inhale your scent, to allow himself to get intoxicated by it.

“I’m going to make it quick for you”, he murmurs as he presses a kiss to the juncture of your neck, sharp teeth poking at your flesh. “A quick and painless death.” It’s the last thing he says before he sinks his fangs into you, relishing in the loud cry you emit as you shake your head. — Fuck, he’d forgotten just how wonderful you tasted, how delirious your blood made him feel.

Your nails claw at every part of him you can access, the terror evident in the way you try to pry him off. Taehyun doesn’t pay you any mind, all he can think of is how he needs more, more, more, more. He swallows mouthful after mouthful of your blood. And as the warm liquid slips down his throat, he can feel your resistance gradually fade as he quickly drains you of life.

You’re reduced to a spluttering mess, tears staining your face and your bottom lip trembling as your eyes remain dazed and filled with horror. When you’re on the brink of going unconscious, just barely holding onto yourself, that’s when he pulls back. — Taehyun wasn’t going to kill you. Fuck, you taste far too good for that. But you didn’t have to know that.

The lower half of his face is coated in a thick layer of your blood and he licks his lips slowly as he watches your bleary eyes search for him. All he meant to do was scare you, and god had it worked. Finally, your face was painted with emotion, you were finally alive again. Oh how he couldn’t be happier.

“W-Why..?” You choke the word out, your breaths coming out jagged as you blink. He’s not hearing you, his gaze is trained on the way your lips move when you speak, and he’s completely entranced by them. — He leans in to kiss you, something he’d never done before. He would always be too focused on the way you tasted, on the way your tight and warm cunt wrapped around his cock to even think about the act of kissing.

Tonight was different. He needs to taste your fear, in every way he can.

He feels you cringe as his bloody tongue slips inside your mouth, he doesn’t care. Hands groping at your waist, he shoves your squirming body back against the mattress. His fingers hook around your sleep-shorts, tugging them down your thighs along with your panties. He’d gotten you an entire closet of assortments to choose from, yet you always picked the most mundane ones. It didn’t matter.

You yelp against his lips when he suddenly aligns his hard cock with your unprepared cunt. Taehyun breaks the kiss for a brief moment, leaning back to admire your terrified expression. Blood had smeared all over your own face, your blood, he twitches at the sight. — You still think he’s going to kill you. It’s wonderful. He can’t help the sinister smirk that pulls across his lips before he reconnects them with yours.

He slides inside of you with surprisingly little restraint, his large hand on your hip as he holds you down. The choked sob you emit vibrates on his tongue and Taehyun groans as he feels you clench around him. It was better than ever before. — His gaze drifts to the punctures on your neck, fresh blood spilled from their cuts and he felt himself grow dizzy.

Taehyun rips himself from the kiss, leaving you gasping for air as you cling onto his shoulders. He’s quick to lap at the crimson liquid, moaning at the taste before he re-opens your barely healed wounds. You whimper when his fangs sink into you a second time that night, it was something he’d never done before. Even Taehyun knows that he should stop by now, that if he takes as much as another drop you might not make it until the following morning.

But you just taste so good.

His eyes flutter, hands gripping at your waist with a force that could easily break bones. His hips have set a slow and deliberate pace as he takes his time fucking your tight cunt, making sure that every stroke left your thighs spasming.

Small, almost inaudible sobs pass your lips and Taehyun withdraws from your neck with a grunt. Fuck he was beginning to grow really tired of you crying. — His rough palm feels gigantic against your soft and wet cheek. The surprisingly intimate movement makes your breath hitch and causes your sob to catch in your throat.

“I’m not going to kill you”, he huffs. Your already terrified eyes widen tenfold, and Taehyun resist the urge to just finish you off right there, you looked fucking delectable. But he holds off, his free hand moving from your hip and between your legs.

Taehyun rarely touched you, if ever. He would have you prepare yourself while he fed, it was a lot more convenient that way. Tonight he felt like doing it himself, for reasons he could not explain. — His thumb brushes against your clit, and his eyebrows raise when he feels your cunt clench around him deliciously. A soft moan falls from your lips, the sound is a surprisingly nice change. Taehyun needs to hear it again.

He touches you with a newfound eagerness, his mouth finding yours as they blend together in a mix of blood and saliva. You tremble beneath him, your hands grabbing at his shoulders, clinging onto him like there was no tomorrow. — You cum around his cock a mere minute later, Taehyun can’t remember if he’d ever brought you to an orgasm before, he doesn’t think so. The way you squeeze around him is far from familiar, yet it makes his head spin.

His hips snap against yours as he picks up his pace, his brows furrowing when he feels his throbbing cock twitch inside your warm cunt. All of you were so blissfully alive at this moment. Hell, even Taehyun felt alive like this, so closely connected to you, in a way he long ago swore he would never be with a mere human being.

You moan when he finishes inside of you, you had never done that before. Taehyun finds that he enjoys it. The taste of you linger on his tongue, and the scent of your arousal infiltrates his nostrils, it was far more prominent this time. — Dark crimson eyes find your wide ones when he peers down at you. For the first time, you’re watching him almost expectantly.

“Thank you.”

There it is again, your everlasting gratitude toward him. He still cannot understand it, but he figures it doesn’t matter as long as you’re willing to live.

Willing to live for him.

taglist ✎... @liaatiny @izzyy-stuff @heeambi @saejinniestar @hyunelixbun @lunesdesire @n0-thisispatrick @lickingan0rchid @tyunderella @fancypeacepersona @hyunj00 @hwang-choon @soohashits @xylatox @lilbrorufr @ezeert @minji-willstay @beombunni

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wingedshadowfan · 1 day ago

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the arcane fandom will hate me for this one but i have to speak my truth !

i don't think vi is the "not jealous type":

i think ppl are just misreading her reactions in two (2) particular scenes and that's why they think so! so i'll talk abt those briefly in a sec

i think ppl have this impression of her having so little self-worth that she wouldn't care if her partned flirted w/ someone or someone flirted w/ them, which i personally hate to see! (and yes, she does have issues w/ putting her own needs first and taking what she needs sometimes, she's been shown to self-destruct in dire situations, and she'd put everything on the line to protect her loved ones but that! does! not! translate! into potentially being okay w/ your partner breaking boundaries)

the scene where she learns caitlyn is into women: first of all, caitlyn and vi are still practically strangers at this point so it's very early to say vi has any feelings for (let alone romantic relationship to) caitlyn that would warrant her feeling jealous!! there's perhaps attraction there ("you're hot, cupcake") but no possessiveness, for reasons other than "vi isn't a jealous partner"! everything in vi's behavior shows this entire sequence is power play to her and she's just toying w/ her food ("the undercity will eat you alive") - she's putting a piltover girl of status, an enforcer, in a situation where she has to do something she deems unbefitting ("i will not!" ) if she wants to achieve her goal, because vi finds it entertaining! piltovians getting their hands dirty, being desparate (think of sevika's glee when she's choking caitlyn in s2 and caitlyn bites her hand, resorting to behavior that's beneath her). vi doesn't expect caitlyn to actually do it - so when she sees her flirting with a girl, this is the first time she's proven wrong abt caitlyn! she thinks, "wow, so she's for real/she's got it in her". not only is caitlyn willing to put her pride aside for more important things, she also seems to be enjoying herself - a contrast to her previous uptight and nervous demeanor, and a sign she's going out of her shell and that this place might grow on her, as well as proof she's into women, which to vi is at least smth they have in common. (and no, i won't get into social psychology and theories of homosociality rn but we are all likely to like ppl similar to us/to what we know, esp when we're unsure of someone's personality, views or values)

the scene where caitlyn pulls away from vi mid-makeout - after vi has forgiven her and decided to ultimately take what she wants for once instead of just running after her loved ones and carrying the responsibility of their safety - to tell her she "saw someone": i wrote a separate post a while ago explaining why to me her simple wording is brilliant in making it very apparent that whatever her fling was, she was not only willing to be upfront abt it but it was also shortlived, she thought of it as a mistake, and it was now over. crucial knowledge, although it can be argued vi didn't process it that extensively at all. which, fair. but it also very much happened when vi was gone and likely hadn't forgiven caitlyn yet (despite having had feelings for caitlyn at the time, and caitlyn for her, which she was obv aware of). so her reaction (cait, i don't fucking care) was completely understandable. they'd only kissed once, before having a huge fight/fallout, and this was before they'd put (at least on screen lol) a label on their relationship - and while we don't see them do that after their sex scene either, we see them basically living together almost domestically after the war and i believe that's confirmation enough. i've also talked before abt how/why caitvi have never doubted their love for each other so i'm willing to bet vi understood the insignificance of caitlyn's relationship in her absence - vi also did some questionable shit in the meantime

so, do i think vi is the jealous type then?

short answer is: yes, at least the normal amount. (so less than caitlyn). because to me, it makes total sense that she would be!

she was so madly in love she was hallucinating caitlyn after their fight, which lead to her descend into alcoholism, pit fighting, style change, madness and anguish. and during that time she'd kept the enforcers badge and used the kiramman house banner as a blanket, like?? do you seriously think she'd let caitlyn flirt w/ others once they're in a relationship (not that caitlyn would) or wouldn't mind someone else trying to flirt w/ caitlyn?? bffr vi is not sharing

idk how relevant this is since it's not exactly jealousy but i thought it's worth mentioning that since vi has been shown physically using her body to defend or shield others (both defensively and offensively): she's definitely the type of gf to tell caitlyn "wear whatever you want babe, i can fight"

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indras-curse · 3 days ago

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Pt. 2 of this.

They get dispatched to deliver a very important package from one Lord to another.

Kakashi has been a little shit for a while now, conveniently releasing his scent whenever Obito is about to land what should have been his winning hit while sparring, getting Obito to pay for his sweet cravings and one time even tricking him into carrying his share of equipment by feigning a tired whine.

Obito is at his limit of embarrassment, he almost flings himself off a cliff to break a leg and skip the mission.

Minato sensei is way too observant and catches him just in time. He has apparently spoken with Kakashi and is not going to allow him to take advantage of Obito, and he won't let Obito let himself be taken advantage of, even if his Alpha screams to please the Omega.

Kakashi is very tame he teases Obito the same amount as always but keeps it away from their dynamics and he conceals his scent as well as he had always done before.

Obito is not entirely sure he is happy with this arrangement.

He misses Kakashi's scent, even if it clouds his mind and makes him embarrassingly pliant. He would just like to make a dumb joke and have Kakashi show a poker face but smell his scent sweeten in amusement.

But the mission goes well.

At least until they are already on their way to Konoha.

They get ambushed, which is stupid because they are no longer carrying any important package or document. Perhaps they gather they must know some important information and want to torture it out of them.

Obito is overwhelmed.

But then, a man launches at Kakashi and lands a hit.

Obito would like to say that he quickly but masterfully came up with a plan that worked perfectly for everyone and managed to escape without any problems.

Truth is that Obito only knows what happened because Rin and Minato tell him what they saw when they finally made their way to them.

Every single enemy was either knocked out or dead and Kakashi was laying down on the grass with a feral Obito on top of him, nose pressed to his neck and growling at anything that moved. He had a broken arm and Kakashi was bleeding from his shoulder, his inability to care for the wound making Obito think there was still danger and made him unable to be coaxed out from his feral state.

Minato sensei had to knock him the fuck out.

He woke up in a hospital, mortified to hell and back.

For the next couple of weeks, Obito masterfully avoided Kakashi, he wasn't even going to lie to himself, he was full on purposefully avoiding the younger man.

Kakashi just had to be standing at his door one morning and bulldozing his way in, pushing Obito back into his own house and barricading the door with his body.

"You've been avoiding me" Kakashi states the obvious.

"Well, yeah. So what?" Obito says petulantly.

"How did you think you were going to manage? We are in the same team, dumbass"

"Shut up, I would have figured it out"

"Stop avoiding me" Kakashi demanded.

"Don't tell me what to do. You don't even like me, just enjoy the ride and let me ignore you"

"I do like you" Kakashi frowned, Obito thinks he can see a pout underneath his mask. "So if you are avoiding me because you like me and you think I don't, stop being stupid"

"I don't like you!" Obito shot back way too quickly to be credible. "You're a prick, you're my rival!"

Kakashi raised an eyebrow and started to release his scent. Obito cursed under his breath, how was he so good at doing that at will?

"Not fair, you know I'm sensitive" Obito covered his nose and mouth with the sleeve of his jacket but it did little to conceal the scent.

"I know" Kakashi stepped forward, closing the distance between them. "You're also stubborn and I am not about to back down" Kakashi was leaning in for a hug and stopped before making contact. "Is this okay?"

"If you are playing with me, Minato sensei will demote you" Obito threatened, wary but opening his arms, defeated. He never really stood a chance.

"Oh, I know. But I am not playing, this is not a trick. I am stating a fact and I want to show you"

They hug for hours and hours. Obito lost within Kakashi's scent and releasing his own, putting them both on even ground, Kakashi going slightly mindless from the unfiltered emotions he can gather from Obito's scent.

They are drunk on each other and their instincts are finally their saving grace for once because Kakashi's stomach growls and Obito immediately separates from him, tugging him to take him out for a bite, instincts screaming to care, provide, feed.

The clear air from the outside helps clean Obito's head. He feels embarrassed but feeling better than ever, now that he knows Kakashi actually likes him too.

#naruto #my writing #obikaka #obkk #kakaobi #uchiha obito #kakashi hatake #obikaka fic #abo #omega kakashi #alpha obito #this is fun #I might write something spicy for this

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quietbluejay · 1 day ago

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started making a list of 30k/40k hills i'll die on and then realized oh wait some of these are actually kinda spicy so it's saved to drafts because i don't want to get into arguments with people who get too defensive when someone doesn't unironically enjoy writers being horny on main and yes I realize still being irritated about this is perhaps a childish trait of mine and maybe makes me lose the high ground but also, whatever.

anyways shortlist of the ones that aren't spicy on tumblr (and the one that apparently is??? but sorry not sorry i'm gonna be obnoxious about it forever now)

Guilliman kinda sucks as a fighter, and a big part of this is because he tends to Leeroy Jenkins at the slightest opportunity which he can get away with in most situations but ends up with him being bodied when it's against someone in his weight class

Perturabo and the Iron Warriors did not carry the Siege OR the Heresy, that was mostly the Sons of Horus and the Word Bearers

40k isn't satire. i would put caveats but tbh, I'm done. Anyone who wants to argue with me about this one needs to cite the novel/short story/codex that they believe proves their point, and explain why it makes the entire setting satire, especially going up against the wealth of counter-examples.

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mullermilkshake · 2 days ago

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The rose garden - Chapter 4

I will be uploading the whole thing here, it's just going take a little time, but if you want to read more right now, there's more on my AO3 <3

Summary - You are just an author wanting to put your writing out there and carry on with your life, but when two people end up murdered, things you write about seem to be more real than just pure fiction.

Pairing - Yandere!Suguru Geto x Fem!Reader / Detective!Satoru Gojo x Fem!reader (Sort of. One sided)

Word count - 3.9k

Tags (master list for the entire fic, will add TW for significant tags) - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!! PLEASE READ THE TAGS!!!,NSFW,SMUT,NO USE OF Y/N,Yandere!Getou Suguru, graphic depictions of violence, major character death Porn With Plot,Porn with Feelings,Established Relationship,PleasureDom,Codependency,Murder,Torture,Conspiracy,Cunnilingus,Orgasm Control,Multiple Orgasms,Minor Original Character(s),psychiatry,Medication,Power Imbalance,Vaginal Fingering,Disembowelment,Manipulation,Gaslighting,Rimming, Praise Kink,Grinding,mentions of blowjobs,Dry Humping,thigh riding,Dark,Autopsy,Aftercare,Hunting,Guns,Perceived infidelity,Body Horror,Smoking,Vaginal Sex,Misogyny,Public Stimulation,One sided sexual tension,Invasion of Privacy,Strangulation,Reader-Insert,Serious Satoru Gojo,Orgasm Edging,Obsession,Accidental Voyeurism,Angst,Questions of masculinity, stabbing, shooting

Fan mail.

Some people get fan mail. Some get copious amounts and they don't know what to do with it.

Tags for chapter - NSFW, Ass eating, rimming, cream pie, multiple orgasms, obsessive fan mail, crotch rubbing, kissing, oral / blow job referenced, murder mystery, grinding

I just wanted to tell you that I am your number one fan, Love.

Keep writing and doing everything that makes you happy.

You’re perfect.

—

Fifteen hours prior to the discovery of the bodies.

“Oh Suguru. Just like that…” You and your fiancé made it to the car after he returned late from work, but you hadn’t made it to the cabin.

Not yet. That’s how the night had started.

About half an hour into the journey, the tension between the two of you was so palpable, Suguru stopped the car down an old winding road that frequented no one and switched the engine off.

Now, he had you bent over in the back, fingers straight inside you with his face between your cheeks, keeping an earth shattering orgasm away from you. You liked to be teased every now and then, and when you confessed to touching yourself after he left for work that morning, he could not help but voice his disappointment that he wasn’t there to do it for you.

“It’s my job to take care of you, isn’t it? There’s no place on earth where you should have to take care of that itch yourself.”

Being your former therapist meant that he knew what words to use to extract the right information from you without even making you aware of it.

“You left for work and I was all worked up-”

“I’ll be your husband soon. What sort of husband would I be if I let you come all by yourself?” He licked your hole with purpose, running his tongue the entire length between your ass cheeks and pumping his fingers like the pro he was.

He would be your husband, as soon as this book was finished. You’d walk down the aisle to join him in the next chapter of your lives and in a way it was one of the greatest anxieties you were going to face. Perhaps that’s why the book wasn’t even started yet.

No, you were ready to become Mrs Geto, for that you were so sure you would have bet your life on it, but it was a big leap nonetheless. Though you wouldn’t have gone this far with anyone else.

Here Suguru was, supporting you on your journey whilst also pursuing his own career among other things and he did it all with a smile on his face. The man was a god and treated you so well, better than most.

“Then let me come- please I can’t take it anymore.” It was as though he’d edged you for hours.

There was no other man like Suguru. You were way too lucky to not compare yourself to other women for him. Why you, when there were so many beautiful people in the world?

Though he squashed that intrusive thought down at every opportunity.

“You can’t wait another few minutes, sweetheart?” He cooed, placing precious kisses over the squidgy mass of your ass. “I love seeing you like this.”

No you couldn't. Not with the way he was using your body. “N-no. Don’t make me wait. Please, hon.”

It was like his fingers just knew what position to be in to prolong that tight knit suppressive orgasm until he allowed it. “You ask so nicely. It’s good you use your words clearly when you take my fingers so well.”

Every word of praise rolled off of his tongue like butter that dripped and seared and sizzled onto the scolding surface that was your naked body behind the condensated windows of Suguru’s old vintage car.

“Tell me again. Please? I’ll give you everything in the world if you do.”

Nothing equated to him. All you ever wanted was him. “Let me come, Suguru. Please let me come.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” All it took was a shift of his wrist and he changed the way his fingers curved, like it unlocked a new characteristic in a game.

Just like that, you were coming over his hand, clenched around his fingers in suspended silence as he kissed your sweat ridden skin. “Good girl, that’s better, huh?”

You finally found your breath and took a large inhale. “Fuck- Yes, yes it’s good!”

The orgasm shook your body, made it tremble and jerk but Suguru held you there in his firm grip. He was built like a bulldozer, far too strong for you if you ever decided to take him on in a flirtatious battle of physical strength. Suguru could throw you over his shoulder like you were nothing, so your body reactions held still.

Long, drawn out, numbing you from the waist down. “Fuck me Suguru, fuck me!”

Suguru pulled your bottom half towards him and he bottomed out inside you faster than you ever thought was possible, cock buried deep without so much as a sound except from your squeal of pleasure.

Your face laid against the leather interior of the seats, squashed down as he fucked you, grasping at your hands and pulling them behind to lay flat on your back in his one hand, the other gently holding the base of your neck in such a tight space.

The whole ideal made your eyes roll, still coming down from your orgasm, hoping and praying Suguru would come too. You wanted it inside you, deep inside you so that it wouldn’t drip out down your thighs at least until you made it to the cabin.

You’d hate for it to get all over the seats.

He wouldn’t do it unless you asked, you knew that. “C-come inside me. I want you-”

“Oh really?” His voice was still so calm and unbroken. “That’s what you want, is it?”

“Yes. Y-yes..”

“Alright then.” Suguru moved his fingers to your soaked clit and rubbed with such miniscule movements you hadn’t actually noticed until you were coming again unexpectedly.

Your moans were stifled by how your head and neck was, and in all that mess, Suguru pressed his hips into you, releasing himself just as you asked. Perfect. His pretty huffs of satisfaction filled the car as he filled you too.

There was no break in his voice. “Look at you, angel. That was a long time clenching, you must be so exhausted.”

Exhausted enough just to lay in the back seat and cuddle until morning, yeah. The last time you checked, it was already past eleven o’clock. The cabin was only another forty five minutes away, though when Suguru got situated and pulled you into a close embrace in the back seats, well, maybe the cabin could wait.

“Y’know, maybe we should just stay here until the morning.” You squeezed your thighs together to make sure nothing dribbled out.

He’d probably agree. Suguru usually did, except when he didn’t. “I’ll give the whole world, but I don’t think it’s wise being out here in the lanes for too long.”

You pouted, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “No one is around, the doors are locked. It’s getting pretty late.”

The forwardness made him chuckle. “And you don’t know what sort of deranged people lurk around the woods at night. I’ve treated some of those people.” He pressed his lips to your forehead. “As much as I’d love to, we should be getting on our way… before I get distracted again and then we’ll never get to the cabin.”

Looking up at him, you could see the adoration in his eyes, “Fine. I guess we could wait until we get there.”

“You’re never this forward. Did getting that award go to your head, Miss author? Maybe I should encourage it. This confidence is way too important to ignore.”

His words could have lulled you into a deep sleep, and for a moment, they almost did. “I don’t know, I guess I’m ready to just write my book and I’ll work hard to be the best writer I can be. I guess that starts at home, right?”

Suguru nodded, the pads of his fingertips grazed your skin absentmindedly. “It does.”

“We worked on my confidence for so long in those sessions and I know you still try and encourage it.” Well, sex just turned into an impromptu therapy session. “I guess I was just feeling a little invisible, in the background with all of those people.”

The award ceremony was the straw that broke the camel's back for your confidence. No invite, no consideration and no one cared. All you wanted to do was write, but there was a barrier every step of the way.

“I think I’ll feel better when I hear back from the publishing house.” Five publishers, five chances. You were unmistakably certain that all five would not agree, but you held out hope that one would come back at least.

“What can I do?”

“You do everything I could ask for and more. You make me feel seen even when no one else remembers me… I’m pushing my confidence in hopes that it’ll help me write this book.”

“Still having trouble, huh?”

“A little, but I’ll get there. I want to walk down that aisle soon enough.”

Suguru smiled sweetly, bringing you in but an inch, kissing you just as sweetly with just a passionate flair he always had down perfectly to add a touch of electricity down the base of your spine.

“I look forward to it, sweetie. Let’s get you dressed, I can already feel goosebumps over your arms. Why don’t we get going and put the fireplace on when we arrive? There’s still wood cut from last time.”

The fireplace was the best place in that cabin to snuggle and fuck. It was certain that you were not going to sleep much tonight and had to try and start your book on little sleep. “You drive a hard bargain, Doctor Geto.”

“I guess I do.”

It was way past midnight by the time you had reached the cabin. A quaint little place tucked away past the various web-like lane roads and settled nicely by a picturesque lake like something out of a horror-thriller movie.

It was perfectly perfect. Even in the pitch dark, the moon bounced off of the lake like a glass mirror that lit up the entire surrounding area.

You remembered the first time Suguru brought you out here, now making it a thrice yearly solid get away for some isolation and well needed rest.

Many things had changed since you came here for the first time. Plenty of additional furniture to the once bachelor pad to make it homely and welcome. Suguru did all of those things, adding whatever you liked and surprised you with the most romantic gestures as was his love language.

His love language extended out into the garden as well.

“I can’t wait to see the rose garden.” You searched your best in the dark, but the bushes were put to sleep.

The rose garden took up most of the outdoor space except some furniture to admire the view. It was your favourite place to sit and write, drink your steaming morning beverages, and as it was getting colder during the nights, the morning dew dripping off of the red petals and onto the pretty pea gravel made your heart melt.

He did all of that for you. Another surprise.

Suguru pulled up into the driveway. “I came to check it a few weeks back. It was doing pretty well, but with the cold, we'll need to prune them back before they die.”

That meant having umpteen vases rammed with fragrant roses around the cabin and more to bring back with you.

“I wanted to bring roses home for you tonight, but the florist had closed early.” He said, taking off his seatbelt and climbing out to open your door himself.

“That’s alright,” You smiled and took his hand. “Those in the garden are my favourite. Just the thought is enough.”

“I can still do this though.”

“What do you mean- Oh!” Suguru scooped you up in an instant. You yelped and chuckled as he closed the car door with his foot and carried you to the cabin door.

“I have to get practice for when we do this for real. It’s the only way to get it perfect when I carry you over the threshold.” The wedding.

You tucked your face into his neck and listened for the jingling of his keys and click of the locked door. “I get the feeling you just like carrying me about.”

“Maybe I do. Perhaps I should have you on my back so I can make dinner, then you won’t have to walk around at all-” The door opened and it sounded like an avalanche at the front door.

“What is that?” Envelopes. Lots and lots of envelopes.

Suguru placed you down gently and flicked the main hallway light on. You knelt down to study them and pick one up. “They’re… addressed to me. Wait- all of them?”

How odd.

Scooping them out of the way with your foot so Suguru could close and lock the door was easy, but reading them and counting them were not. There were literally hundreds.

Fan mail.

“I have more fan mail than I thought I’d ever get- I mean I didn’t think I’d get any at all…” You had managed to get them all up onto the coffee table by the fireplace.

“I’ll get the fireplace lit and make us some coffee, why don’t you give them a read?”

Some letters were short, like a few sentences long, and others were pages with words of affirmation and admiration to not only your writing, but to you as well. You weren’t sure how to take it in this quantity.

The writing was different most of the time, but your gut was telling you that it was the same person. They were not graphic or threatening, rather, they were pleasant and content to comfort you if you were ever feeling down. You just didn't expect someone to care about you like this besides Suguru.

—

Please keep writing.

Ever since I read the first sentence on page one for the first time, I was entranced by the beauty of each word you put down on paper. Your beautiful storytelling and way with details makes my heart simply leap with joy.

You are truly amazing and should never give up, even if no one sees. I know you'll get your first award soon enough and I’ll be right there waiting and watching that big moment. The whole fan base will and we’ll all be there to support you forever.

I’m your number one fan and always will be.

You’re doing a great job.

—

Hello,

I saw your interview on that podcast. I thought it was amazing, you did so well speaking publicly and really made us understand the twists and turns of ‘A fate sealed’ and even got me to understand more of where your head was when you wrote this.

I know there's a lot of dark stuff in all of us and you just harnessed that energy and made the most amazing art piece with it. I’d love to see you do another podcast, but maybe with a different guy, because he seemed really pushy on what questions he was asking.

You did so well in standing on your own. Well done!

—

Hello,

I just want to say that I read your book front to back in a day because it was so good. I have to let you know that I cannot wait for your new book to launch and I will be there right up front to receive it and slam my money down.

The first sentence always gets me and I’m just as excited to read the first one of this new book too. Your agent has done a fantastic job at advertising and I have told all of my friends to pick up your book and read it.

I’ve even told my mother to recommend this to her book club.

—

“Wow, I’m… I don’t know.” The fire crackled in front, spitting little embers against the fire guard. The letters were all opened, all one hundred and twelve of them. “I knew some people enjoyed reading my book but… This is- I’m humbled that I’ve made this many people happy.”

Suguru had stayed up with you the entire time. “I hope you can put your confidence behind these. I think they’re a great way to support you if you ever get side tracked.”

He took a sip of his coffee and covered the two of you in a knitted blanket as the chill through the cabin came in. You leant back into him and fiddled with his fingers where they draped over your shoulder from the back of the sofa.

“I guess I could, yeah. These letters are so thoughtful and people took the time to send them to me.” You noticed the various different coloured picture stamps and handwriting.

Each one meticulously written and sealed with love and admiration just for your eyes only, just because your work crossed their mind at some point during their day.

“Letters are great ways of having physical reminders.” Suguru wrapped his fingers around yours. “It shows you how far you’ve come too.”

That much was true. You were only a timid thing when you met Suguru, walking up to his office with the address you wrote down in your trembling hand. You weren’t sure what to expect when you finally met the man you had yet to speak to.

You didn’t expect the man sitting in the leather padded armchair with a clipboard and pen over his lap to be the man you shared a bed with just eighteen months down the line.

Suguru adjusted his glasses and took them off of his face, taking the little cord that attached them around his neck and placed them down on the coffee table and piles of paper. He shifted down and turned, getting you between his legs and cradling you in his arms.

“I never thought I would be so privileged to have you here in my arms. I really am the luckiest man in the world.” He held you lovingly.

“I think I’m the lucky one.” You were in a place you felt safest. “I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you at my side…”

And that is where you left it, falling asleep there on the sofa next to the crackling fire and warmth permeating your cheeks until it died out in the morning, the little embers disappearing in the dark to wait for the sunrise to flutter your eyelids open.

You didn’t want to move, nor did you want to even open your eyes. Suguru’s chest rose and fell smoothly under your head and almost sent you back off to sleep. You were on vacation after all, there was nowhere you needed to be, but you did need to start making notes on your book.

It wasn't going to write itself.

Little did you know that Suguru was actually awake, he tightened his grip around you when you made an attempt to get up.

“Not just yet.” He said, his sleepy gruff voice was hushed. “Give us another hour. I’ll keep you warm.”

You did very little to rub the sleep from your eyes, still in your clothes from last night. “An hour? If we don’t get up now, I don’t think we ever will today.”

He huffed with much amusement. “So let’s leave today and try again tomorrow.”

So lazy… “There are other ways to keep me warm y’know?” You squirmed around with much difficulty and faced him. “I can name a few just off the top of my head.”

“Tempting me with sex, huh? You just know I can’t ever refuse you, don’t you?” Suguru’s eyes remained closed, but he adjusted his hips and allowed you to straddle them.

“I do.” Because Suguru lived and breathed pleasing you. He made that frequently clear. “And what would make me really happy is letting me do this…” His cock was hard, it twitched as soon as you touched it.

“I'm the one who should be pleasing you, not the other way around.”

“This is what pleases me.” You cooed, palming him slowly to get a reaction. It was incredibly rare that you could corner him like this, letting his walls down enough to get the drop on him.

“Does it now?”

Your response was a good way to give him what he wanted out of it, even though you just wanted to take care of him like he did to you most nights.

“Yeah… So let me take care of you, hon.” Massaging his thighs was always a good way to get him riled up.

Grinding your hips over his cock was too.

Suguru kept his eyes closed, his hand felt up your shoulder and neck, thumb brushing your cheek with irregularity. He was hard enough to sit on already, though you contemplated what you could do to really let him enjoy it.

Sucking him off seemed like a good idea. He always enjoyed that when he let you.

Planting a short kiss on his lips, you moved your way down his neck, sucking and nipping his throat, each time getting lower and lower, moving your hips back and forth using the friction to ramp things up.

“You’re so pretty, Suguru. Always taking good care of me. Always being-” There was an unexpected knock at the door.

Suguru’s eyes finally opened, though he didn’t pay the door any mind. “Ignore it. It’s probably the mail.” To add the emphasis, he grasped your ass and pushed you further into him.

It felt good, the sensation against you. “It’s me who should be doing that. You can’t turn it off can you-” The door knocked again, louder and more forceful with purpose.

“I guess we better get that then.” Suguru huffed and shifted his weight so that you could climb off.

“It’s alright, I’ll get it. Wait here and when I’m back, we’ll carry on where we started.”

There was one silhouette at the door, and upon opening it, there was a man in sunglasses and the most strikingly snow white hair you had ever seen. Suguru had made his way off of the sofa.

“Can I help you?” You said, adjusting your hair to being somewhat presentable from the way you slept.

He held his police badge up. “Sorry to bother you, I’m Detective Satoru Gojo. I’m making house calls and I have some questions surrounding a homicide that took place the night before last.”

“A homicide?- what time is it-” You hadn’t looked at the clock yet, must have still been early.

The Detective rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s four in the afternoon, actually.”

Suguru opened the door further and got between you and the man. “Of course, Detective. Please, come in and I’ll put the coffee on.”

A homicide…

A Detective turning up out of the blue…

Something you never actually thought would happen right on your doorstep. It sounded like something out of dark-thriller fiction.

But who was this involving?

Your stomach lurched just thinking about it.

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DISCLAIMER - I do not own any of the characters of Jujutsu Kaisen. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

The side characters and advanced plot is my own work. A gift for @vampir-queen and original idea for this fic is their's.

Also Please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

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heavens-moonlight · 2 days ago

Text

𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 | 𝟬𝟳 : 𝗔𝗟𝗠𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗜𝗦 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛

𝟬𝟲 : 𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦

Authors Note: It has seriously been so long but I've been gone to study as well as test for my boards and didn't want any distractions, but I’m back and more motivated than ever! Thank you so much for all the messages of concern (that I am now only getting around to seeing). This was originally supposed to go up a bit sooner but I thought it was too heavy to start 2025 off with so it's here now instead. Happy New Year to everyone and if you're still reading this story I hope you can excuse the time off in exchange for more frequent updates now that I actually have time to myself. As always, I'd love to hear what you think! Until next time ♡

Faint morning sunlight filters through the sheer white curtains, casting a muted glow in the room. The quiet murmur of the world you've grown accustomed to is now inaudible, muffled by the window's thick glass, separating illusion from reality.

In this hushed room, the oppressive silence adheres to you like second skin, suffocating you in the familiarity—and the loneliness. Even as the clock on the wall ticks away signaling the passage of time, it's not enough to drown out the feeling that it has long since stopped—stalled at a moment where nothing feels possible, where hope is just an echo of something impossible.

A sense of heaviness settles atop your body, aching as though it has been carrying the weight of far too many days for far too long.

Your eyelids flutter open languidly, the effort of rising from the darkness of sleep too much to take. For a moment, you sit still, staring at the tender rays filtering in, but it offers no warmth, only a pale reminder of things that once felt brighter.

Feeble shadows dance across the walls, reflecting off the surface of the floors.

In the dulled haze of the scattered sunbeams, the light is neither enough to pierce through the darkness of your dismal dreams nor your despairing reality.

The beautiful, soft, and serene sunlight doesn't touch your heart any longer, for even if it did, it wouldn't change a single thing.

It feels like a lie, that sunlight.

It promises warmth, but it doesn't deliver.

Your chin quivers and you bring your fingers to your face, rubbing your eyes in an effort to physically hold back the tears. Wanting to close your eyes for just a second, even that small release of tension only makes you more aware of the pressure in your chest.

Only when warm hands envelop your own to gently pull them away do you turn to its source.

Jun-Hee's brown eyes are the first thing you see and shielding your heart, you remain strong, holding his gaze.

It brings you comfort, but also trepidation, as you focus on his irises, a rich, deep hue contrasting that of the soulless, colorless shade of murky white imprinted in your subconscious.

Death was staring at you through his eyes in that vivid nightmare, and instead of running away, you had run toward it.

You both sit completely still in one another's presence for a couple more minutes before the familiar lump lodges its way in your throat the longer you look at him and circling through a million what-if's.

It's too much.

Too much to keep pretending that things will get better.

No longer being able to ground your thoughts or steady your breaths, your hands fall from his and you rise on shaky feet, walking in a non-linear line seeking escape.

The silence swells again and you step forward, feet carrying you toward the door, each movement mechanical.

There's no destination in mind, no plan. Just the thought that perhaps if you walk long enough, if you move far enough, you can outrun whatever's holding you here.

But deep down, you know that you won't.

You know that you can't.

As you pass a mirror hung up on the adjacent wall, you stop short in your tracks.

You swallow, then blink at your reflection in the mirror, barely recognizable to your own self, splatters of blood dotted across your visage and eyes devoid of hope.

It makes you physically hurt.

It makes you want to scream out loud.

Instead, you bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood and swipe at your own face, each pass more aggressive than the last.

No matter how hard you press, the streaks merely smear, yet refuse to disappear completely.

You wonder if this is how it will be once this is all over.

Try as you might, you can't imagine in the slightest ever being able to rid of the gruesome memories.

The tears.

The blood.

The deaths.

The world outside continues on, unchanged, while you remain stuck in this place, trapped in the moment between yesterday and tomorrow.

At the next raise of your hand, Jun-Hee winds his fingers around your wrist and tugs it down tenderly but still firmly enough that it brings you back to your senses.

The familiar rage and hurt bubble inside your chest and you force it down, bottling your emotions as you have always done.

Wordlessly, Jun-Hee throws open the room's door and drags you along on a path straight to the bathrooms.

He turns your shoulders, facing you away from the wall length mirrors, back pressed against the counter of sinks.

The light flickers overhead as you hang your head, silent sobs wracking your body. Jun-Hee stands in the doorway, heart twisting in his chest at the sight of you. For as long as he has known you, your strength had always been something he admired. But now, you were breaking, and he felt helpless.

"Seol-Hwa," he whispers, voice thick with emotion. "Please."

Your shoulders shudder as you look up, eyes swollen and red. The weight of everything you couldn't say crushes you, too heavy for words.

With determination, Jun-Hee crosses the threshold to stand in front of you, bending down to eye level and ever so gently reaching forward to cup your face in his hands. His touch is steady, even as he fears you would pull away hearing your breath hitch at the contact.

"Look at me," he murmurs, low and even. "I want you to see your reflection of yourself as I see you. Deflect all your pains, your worries, and your fears onto me. In my eyes, there is only you."

Tears make their descent down your face so you shakily inhale, trying to stop the streaming rivulets. Jun-Hee gingerly steps ever closer, thumbs brushing over your cheeks to trace the lines of every drop.

"I—I don't know how to fix it," you choke out, voice trembling. "No one can."

As your tears continue to fall unbidden, Jun-Hee sighs and reaches around you for a stack of paper towels, dampening them with cool water before softly wiping your face as if he were erasing the pain one swipe at a time.

Rather than pulling away or flinching, you surrender to the tender touch, breath slowing just a little with each movement. You can't help but to stare, the course of your nightmare haunting you even when awake.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It's—" you pause, not knowing how to approach it. You decide if you didn't start, Jun-Hee wouldn't have to learn of the ending. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing if it has you like this."

You shake your head, lips pressed into a firm line.

"Was it a bad dream?"

Hesitantly, you nod, tears brimming on your waterline once more. "In it...you left." It was neither of your faults, yet the words come out laced with bitterness yet also chock-full of longing, of pain, and of regret. "You left...and I was all alone."

Jun-Hee pulls you into a tight hug, tucking your head beneath his chin. He didn't have answers. He couldn't make it disappear. But he could be here. He could hold you.

"Is that what you're afraid of?" One hand comes to nestle the back of your head, patting softly in reassurance. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Wrapping your arms around him, you rest your ear against his chest, finding solace in his beating heart signaling life, chambers of sound echoing your feelings for him.

"The future seems far too bleak to give us a choice to stay."

"In any circumstance, even if I had to leave, I would always come back to you, Seol- Hwa."

[ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ, ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ sᴋɪʟʟ. ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴊɪ-sᴏᴏ, ᴀ ᴄɪᴛɪᴢᴇɴ, ᴡᴀs ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ. ᴀʟʟ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛs, ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪғʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇɢɪɴ ᴛᴏ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ. ]

The monotonous announcement drones on soporifically, seemingly mocking Yu-Jun's cries that nearly mask every single word like knives probing at the still-open wounds in his heart.

You can barely bring yourself to watch even after the others have left the scene one by one as Yu-Jun holds Ji-Soo's limp body in his arms behind the previously impenetrable door now split down the middle, a parallel to their parting.

"This can't be..." Yu-Jun intones in despair, shaking his girlfriend's shoulders to no avail. "I still need you here with me..."

Recognition comes at you in full force, causing you to stumble back, clutching at the doorframe in reliance as your head spins, the same exact words you had said to Jun-Hee in your nightmare reverberating in the dark recesses of your mind, echoing far too loud in the vicinity of the now empty hallway.

Sensing the movement, Yu-Jun glances over, a flash of surprise to see you still there, before it's gone and replaced by utter grief.

Pulling yourself together, you hesitantly approach. Even as you kneel down next to the two, you're met with no resistance nor reticence as you had expected.

"You don't have to stay. No one else did." Yu-Jun's voice is muffled as he pulls Ji-Soo ever closer, hunching over with his head against her own.

"I know I don't have to, but I want to," you emphasize.

At this, he looks up, confused. "I don't understand. I'm not someone who should be on the receiving end of kindness."

"That doesn't mean you deserve this," you gesture around, noticing somberly as his hands tighten, clutching at the fabric of Ji-Soo's now crinkled white shirt. "None of us do."

"Maybe I do." Yu-Jun stares straight forward at the wall, focusing on nothing. "Maybe this is karma for everything I've done wrong."

"We're people. Everyone makes mistakes. It's part of being human."

Yu-Jun chuckles darkly. "Tell me, what kind of mistake is this game then?"

"A fatal one."

There's a long stretch of silence between you two before he speaks up. "I'm sorry." You're taken aback by the sudden admission of regret, unable to hide your reaction. Yu-Jun clears his throat awkwardly before addressing you with sincerity. "My friend group, me included, haven't always been the nicest to you or yours and even though I knew it deep down, I never owned up to it. On behalf of them and myself, I want to apologize." His breaths come out ragged with so much still to convey between every intake of air. "In case—" he glances down again at Ji-Soo in his arms and brushes away stray strands of hair from her face. "—I don't get the chance to say the things I've saved to say."

"Do you have words that you regret never having said?"

"Three. Only three."

You can guess what it is without confirmation from the way Yu-Jun's lips quiver, eyes filled with unshed tears.

"Stay alive for her."

"I don't know if I can."

"You will," you respond with certainty, rising back on your feet.

"How are you so sure?"

"Are there not people you still want to save, including yourself?"

Realization finally makes its way onto his face. "H-How did you figure it out? T-That I'm a doctor?" The words come out in broken stutters.

You pull out your phone and turn it around, showing the resurrection screen. "It's hard to recognize those against you, but it's even harder to recognize those with you. We shouldn't let one another down."

Yu-Jun opens and closes his mouth, struggling to find the right words to say. "I feel as though I've already disappointed so many. A second chance is not something I deserve."

"Rather than saying you don't deserve things, prove that you do."

"Do you...not have any desire to reserve revival for yourself? "

"I could, but that defeats the whole purpose of this responsibility assigned to us in saving the innocent. Doctors place the needs of others before their own. Is that not what we are now?"

Yu-Jun's entire demeanor shifts from reluctant to resolute, from hopeless to hopeful. "I'll do my best so that no more sacrifices will be done in vain."

A faint smile adorns your face, acknowledging the partnership wordlessly. "Whatever happens, don't forget to protect yourself even as you're protecting the others."

Yu-Jun makes a sound of affirmation as you turn to leave. "Wait—"

You look back over your shoulder. "What is it?"

"You're a really good person, Seol-Hwa, just as Jun-Hee has always said. I see why he likes you so much."

Faltering, the corner of your lips imperceptibly curl downward. "We're best friends. He's obligated to say that."

"I don't think feelings are an obligation."

"Feelings never do well in a life or death situation."

"Do you have words that you regret never having said?" Yu-Jun uses your own verbatim against you.

Your eyes waver but you tamper down your emotions, refusing to let them show. "I had a dream last night where I said the words I've always wanted to say and Jun-Hee and I still wind up, over and over again, at only one ending sequence."

"And that ending is?"

Swiveling your head back around to hide the tears wanting to fall, you whisper quietly before walking away, "The same as your's."

Despite Yu-Jun declining to join, the rest reconvene in the deserted warehouse, as barren and cold as you were feeling.

Everyone is on edge, warily eyeing one another, no longer trying to hide the smallest ounce of suspicion.

Yoon-Seo speaks up next to you, words curt as she crosses her arms across her chest. "What's the reason for calling all of us down here?"

If it was possible, Kyung-Jun is even more patronizing, walking back and forth in the center with his head held high. Haughtily, he turns to the group. "Do you all not know or are you pretending not to?" He smirks. "Park Woo-Ram, that bastard, the one who deceived all of you was the Mafia. Just who was the only person to pinpoint that?" Throwing his hands up in a show of bravado, he motions for applause. "Me."

Solely, Seung-Bin claps, always one to grovel at his leader's feet. "Of course, it's no one else but you with the great hunch." His positive countenance morphs to one of disdain, transitioned so seamlessly, that it makes you wonder if he has ever displayed a genuine expression. "I can't say the same for you lot of Police. Whoever you all are, you could learn a thing or two from Kyung-Jun."

The person in question waves him off to the back and steps forward, hands in his pockets. "Hear that? If you want to catch the Mafia, do as I say."

Beside you, Jun-Hee deadpans, "Do what?"

"You'll take turns saying who you think is guilty and I'll pick for you."

Whispers grow amongst your classmates and you can sense the growing frustration directed at a single player.

Scoffing, Jun-Hee shakes his head in disbelief. "Who are you to decide? It's up to all of us."

"There's not enough collective intelligence for us to do that. Did you all forget how and why I nearly died last night? Who other than me is definitely a Citizen?" Kyung-Jun strides the length of the room as he scrutinizes everyone in turn, shaking his pointer finger in succession but ultimately drops it as he reaches you. Seeing your mien of indifference, he pivots back around, leaving his next words hanging in the air. "I think the rest of the Mafia members are hidden among those who voted for me yesterday."

"That doesn't mean anything," Na-Hee defends.

"Oh really?" Kyung-Jun whirls back around, fixating on Na-Hee and clucks his tongue at her. "On the contrary, it means everything. For the fact alone that you all sided with the opposition to rid of me. What clearer evidence is there?"

"How were we supposed to know?" Jun-Hee states clearly. "Don't judge based on one round where no one had the slightest clue."

"Then, what should I assess you on?" Kyung-Jun retorts. "Voting is the entire point of this game to figure out who's who."

"Your logic is shit if that's all you use to reason with," Jung-Won admonishes.

"You bitch—"

So-Mi cuts in abruptly, changing the topic of conversation for the time being. "What about Ji-Soo then? Why kill someone so randomly without the need to?"

"Who cares about intention when you yourself could die?"

Behind him, you can see Jin-Ha and Seung- Bin look at one another briefly, weary looks on their faces at Kyung-Jun's words, message loud and clear: Friendship amounts to nothing when it comes to survival.

Yeon-Woo timidly voices from the back. "So, Ji-Soo wasn't the Doctor then?"

"Read the notification carefully," Eun-Chan murmurs to his friend. "She was a Citizen, but that doesn't mean Yu-Jun is."

“Yesterday," Da-Bum adds, "the Police used their skill, so why didn't the Doctor?"

Mi-Na bites at her nails. "Right, because then Ji-Soo would still be here."

You catch sight of Yu-Jun outside through the metal bars across the window opening and once your eyes meet, he hangs his head in shame, walking away forlornly, no longer wanting to listen any further.

No one else notices the exchange and you breathe out on a long exhale, just as much guilty.

"Don't you all think it's weird?" So-Mi's question draws the interest of those next to her. "On the third floor, it was just Ji-Soo and Yu-Jun alone. How come only one of them made it out alive?"

Mi-Na looks over at So-Mi with a gasp. "Could Yu-Jun be a Mafia?"

"Damn," Jin-Ha intones. "If that's true, he really took his girlfriend's life."

In order to not compromise the chance of survival, although knowing that couldn't be farther from the truth especially after seeing the aftermath of the two, you bite down on your tongue to keep peace.

"She did always give him a hard time, what with telling him off and her short temper..." Yeon-Woo trails off.

"Enough of this useless talk that serves no real purpose in pressing matters." Despite the silent resistance, Kyung-Jun still mongers fear in the rest. "I'll single out someone as I see fit."

"How funny! He thinks he's actually in charge," Jung-Won mutters under her breath.

"This one." He spurns her and focuses on Jun-Hee, gesturing condescendingly. "You can tell when he did all that he could to safeguard Woo-Ram."

"Anyone would've done so to save someone who we thought would be a Citizen," you spit out. "Haven't we all been betrayed by someone we trusted?" Kyung-Jun's eyes slide over to yours, jaw clenched, not missing what you alluded to. "If it wasn't you against him, would you be able to say there wasn't even a one percent chance where you couldn't believe him?" His eyes don't leave yours, watching intently your effort at justification. "In the end, we're just victims of a killer."

"Seol-Hwa's right," Na-Hee agrees meekly. "We shouldn't vote just because of a wrong guess."

"Then, let's vote for the right guess this time: Jun-Hee."

"Don't you know about presuming innocence? Stop insisting when you don't have proof." You glare him down. "This isn't a witch hunt where we vote on the basis of who we dislike most."

Kyung-Jun steps toward you and you can feel Yoon-Seo grab your elbow to pull you back but you don't budge even as he bends down, tilting his head to the side, gazing steadfastly at you. "Do you have evidence then?" He fixes you with a challenging stare, reversing your words. "We can't defend based on who we like most."

"You want evidence?" He falters as you merely smile without any real happiness behind it. "I have it."

The hum of the old computer fan is the only sound in the small, dimly lit basement before the clicking of keys fills the silence, rhythmic, almost hypnotic.

Jung-Won's fingertips run across the keyboard, eyes locked on the screen, face bathed in the pale glow of the monitor. She wasn't aware of those standing behind her, too focused, too intent, to notice the interest of the rest, and the trepidation of yours.

"We can get the entire Mafia crew in one go if I manage to pull this off."

From the shadows of the basement, the sound of Seung-Bin's foot tapping repetitively against the floor echoes incessantly. "This is useless. Can't you work any faster than at the rate of a turtle?" His voice breaks the stillness of the room, laced with frustration.

"You're also useless. You have no right to speak," Jung-Won berates, tone sharp as she adds to the tension.

You see the screen flash and spring up from your seat next to Jun-Hee atop a half broken wooden bench discarded in the room. "Do you see anything?"

"I thought I would but..." Jung-Won spins in her chair to face you, "it's all deleted. The files are completely wiped—everything on the drive."

"That can't be." You refuse to even entertain the thought that someone else could've chanced upon this room, especially not after the weird circumstance in which you found it. "Look again." Grabbing Jung-Won's arm a bit too tightly, you urge her to scour the different file locations.

An uneasy silence hangs in the air as you both turn toward the computer once again. Your eyes bat nervously from folder to folder, trying to find something—anything—but the cursor only blinks in emptiness, mocking your desperation.

"It's not that," Jung-Won says aloud as she clicks around, clattering growing louder in defiance. "Any remaining content on here wasn't formatted properly from the start. Whoever had access to this in the first place made sure no else would after them. All traces are erased."

You can't answer right away. Jung-Won's gaze is fixed, but her fingers had slowed. The screen blinks once, twice, before the folder she'd been trying to open vanishes entirely.

A chill runs down your spine.

"It's not... it's not possible..." you whisper, words in tatters. You reach for the mouse but the screen flickers then blacks out entirely as a faint row of red text flashes in the corner.

Deleted: System Error.

The room goes deathly still.

You squeeze your eyes together tightly, stomach in knots and heart plummeting.

"Han Seol-Hwa," comes Jin-Ha's voice. "Were you trying to fool us all? Bring up nonexistent evidence? Nice team-play, Mafias."

"It's not like that! They knew of it beforehand. We're too late!" you shout back, knowing full well evading this accusation just became that much more difficult.

Jin-Ha is about to open his mouth again to reproach you, but one look from Kyung-Jun shuts him up immediately despite his growing displeasure at the newfound tandem. The latter studies you, gauging. "Are you doing this for yourself or for someone else? This whole thing was only brought up because I cornered Jun-Hee earlier."

"Let's calm down and consider the situation first." Yu-Jun sends you what he thinks is a look of support, but even in his encouragement, you can sense that worry outweighed it.

"Don't think you're off the hook either, girlfriend murderer," Kyung-Jun warns Yu-Jun.

"Did you, or did you not, know that this place would have bird's eye view of everything because you were planning to rid of evidence from the beginning?" Jin-Ha corrals you into another corner and you can sense Kyung-Jun holding himself back from going rouge on him.

Jung-Won is by your side in an instant, hands around your shoulders. "You're even dumber than you look."

"Yah!"

"If that was her intention, why would she willingly bring us all here? Unless you've been lobotomized, in what world would someone expose themselves if they're at fault?"

"Whatever," Kyung-Jun concludes, and you look away, expecting him to vote for you without doubt as his finger taps at his screen with finality. "My intuition has never been wrong."

Before the intercom can even announce his choice, Jin-Ha steps in between him and the door, eyes shifting from you to Kyung-Jun and back, equal parts in disbelief and anger. "Have you gone crazy? What are you doing?!"

Seung-Bin stands stunned, looking between the two.

"Didn't you two say that I had a great hunch a few moments ago and everyone should take note?" Kyung-Jun shoves Jin-Ha aside, the shorter of the two bumping into the wall with a thud before a finger is jabbed into the middle of his chest. "Get to learning, bastard."

"Aish shibal!"Jin-Ha curses after his leader's retreating back as Seung-Bin drags him along, the three exiting ultimately with unanimous votes, choices conformed to Kyung-Jun's.

As Mi-Na and Eun-Chan turn to leave as well, you grab at them in a rush. "I really am a Citizen." At their unconvinced looks, you double down. "I'll prove that I am. Please, at least give me until the end of today."

With their evidently remaining suspicions, Eun-Ha comes to your aid. "I trust her. If there's one person who I'm most certain is a Citizen, it has to be Seol-Hwa." She reaches out her hand and gives yours a light squeeze even as your own shakes against hers.

[ ɢᴏ ᴋʏᴜɴɢ-ᴊᴜɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

[ sʜɪɴ sᴇᴜɴɢ-ʙɪɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

[ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊɪɴ-ʜᴀ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

"I'll be able to restore a few files if I spend a bit more time familiarizing myself with this interface," Jung-Won declares resolutely and you, once again, feel guilty for harboring doubts against her. "I can at least promise this."

"Yes, guys," Na-Hee adds on. "We can vote before night falls once we've all calmed down and have more sound reasoning."

Da-Bum nods in agreement. "We'll know for sure by then. Let's not jump to a decision."

Eun-Ha nudges Mi-Na and Eun-Chan on either side of her, before turning around to motion at Yeon-Woo with her head. They all relent, albeit reluctantly, and as Eun-Ha follows them out of the room, she turns back to give you a half smile in silent support.

So-Mi merely smirks and leaves with everyone else aside from your immediate group, her steps light, your distress her happiness.

You plop back down on the bench and cover your face with your hands. "This is a disaster."

Hyun-Ho scoots in beside you and pats you on the head comfortingly.

"Don't give up just yet." Dong-Hyun fiddles around with the multiple outdated TV's on the opposite wall. "We won't either."

"Da-Bum," Jung-Won calls. "Did you by chance bring a laptop with you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I need all the help I can get. With your assistance, we should be able to regain lost footage at the earliest an hour before midnight."

"Is that possible? To restore everything?" Da-Bum questions.

"Of course not everything, but if we try our best, clips from the third floor hallway where the incident happened last night is completely doable." Jung-Won is entirely confident as she notifies the group chat while Da-Bum rushes off to get the additional device needed.

Their efforts on behalf of you warm your heart, yet deep down, you can't bring yourself to bask in the momentary peace.

Saving yourself will mean losing Jun-Hee.

The city lights on high above the rooftop cast a backdrop of white behind Jun-Hee, the stark contrast against his black hair like a shining halo.

When he turns to look at you, you can't find it in yourself to hold eye contact, instantly drowning anew in the visions of your nightmare, slipping beneath a blanket of white, the color of surrender.

You wrap your arms around yourself as the frigid night air bites against your skin, and noticing your shivering, Jun-Hee scoots in noticeably closer, pressed against your side in an attempt to offer warmth.

"Is it difficult for you?"

"What is?"

"Giving me your full support, trusting me— believing me without doubt."

Jun-Hee pulls your head onto his shoulder and leans his own against yours. "It's the opposite. You make it easy. I can entrust you with my life."

"Even if all the evidence is evading me?"

"Even then."

Closing your eyes, you let the rise and fall of his shoulder as he breathes calm you. "Why do you trust me so much?"

"I know the kind of person you are, and I know your heart."

"If everyone were to lose their trust in me, as long as you still believe in me, I don't need anything else."

"I'll always be by your side."

"It's weird," you begin. "Not once have I ever thought about my biggest fear, but every night since we have been here, the scent of death keeps lingering, both in my reality and subconscious. I can't rid of it."

"Anyone would say the same."

"Would you?"

"My only fear is that I won't be able to protect you until the end."

You raise your head only to find him already looking at you.

"Is it selfish of me to say that I'm scared? I know the possibility of making it out of here is close to none, but to imagine myself dying, I simply can't." Unabashed, you find yourself crying, tears falling down in twin trails against your cheeks. "I don't want to go like this."

"Who says you have to?" Jun-Hee's right hand cups the side of your face and with his thumb, he brushes away the teardrops cascading down, a mirrored reflection of the morning. "I would never let you die. Until my last breath, I'll make sure you're safe."

"You should always put yourself first, Jun- Hee."

Pulling his hand away from your face, he cradles both of your hands in between his and tightens his own around them.

"Don't you know that I would die for you?"

Shaking your head, you try to get him to rescind his words. "I'm not someone of importance you should sacrifice yourself for."

He smiles lightly. "To me, no one is more important than you—not even my own self."

Your breath catches in your throat and you swallow around the lump forming. "Promise me we'll go home together once this is all over."

Jun-Hee's eyes waver with uncertainty but ultimately nods. "I promise."

"You know it would never be home without you right?"

"Neither without you, Seol-Hwa."

"Then, you can never leave me here alone, if you aren't with me."

"How cute," Jun-Hee suddenly intones and you're taken aback at the fond way he says it. "You think it's possible for me to quit you." He slides off of the bench you two are sitting on, before kneeling down in front of you. From his pockets, he dangles a braided red string between his fingers as he looks up at you, the glimmer of stars reflecting in his eyes. "I wanted to give you this for our friendship anniversary but more than ever, there's no time like the present."

"You've kept this with you the whole time?"

Jun-Hee nods, fiddling with the thin strands to tie around your wrist. "I recently went to Jejudo with my parents and this really kind elderly craftsmen told me these can serve as wish bracelets, granting what the wearer most desires in their hearts." He rotates the woven strings around and you see a small white jade flower charm, its center hollowed-out, dangling from the middle. A snow flower. Your namesake. "The harabeoji said to me, with the brightest smile on his face, that I looked like I had a hidden wish but seemed far too skeptical for his liking. To my surprise, he gifted me with two and told me that sometimes, luck comes only once in a lifetime."

Grinning, he presses the textured string into your outstretched hand and you settle his forearm in your lap, wrapping the bracelet around the opposite wrist you were wearing yours on. His charm is the piece that completes yours, a simple solid sphere—a perfect match.

"I heard that until your wish comes true, the string shouldn't break prematurely, or it will never come to fruition."

"That's what the harabeoji reminded me of too, but I believe ours will be granted." "Do you really think that luck only comes once in a lifetime?"

"I don't know about that, but what I do know is that I must've used all my luck in order to meet someone like you." Jun-Hee runs his thumb over the inside of your wrist where the stone pendant rests against your pulse point, a line leading to your heart. "You're my once in a lifetime person, Seol- Hwa."

A few hours later and your unease has yet to settle, not even at the confirmation text from Jung-Won alerting to her success.

"I think it's safe to say that we'll have the most important of clues as evidence." After a final flurry of movements, Jung-Won stretches her fingers. "There. It's done." She points to the screen and those closest to her promptly swarm the monitor to see. "With the time limit I had, I was only able to bring back the film from yesterday, but that should be more than enough to figure out who entered the room where Yu-Jun and Ji-Soo were."

Before you even have the chance to breathe a sigh of reprieve, smoke starts rising from the console as sparks fly, only briefly at first and then heightening into a full blown flame.

Jun-Hee grabs the nearest fire extinguisher and douses the system unit, but all that remains in the fallout is charred metal. You stare at the black matter, the futility of it ridiculing.

Kyung-Jun touches the box only to recoil at the heat that singes his skin. It's beyond saving and he can only chuckle. "As if murder wasn't enough, you all want to add arson to your list of crimes too? Was this a ploy in hopes that we would all burn down? Is that it?"

"Guys—" Eun-Chan interjects, pointing a shaky finger at the monitor in the corner of the room everyone ignored up until now. "What the hell is that?!" At his question, the screen lights up with colored strips of static that steadies into clear footage, the pool coming into view.

Except, it isn't the only thing visible.

Long dark hair masks the face of an otherworldly figure standing eerily still in the middle of the scene, hands at her sides. For some inexplicable reason, you feel like you've seen her before.

"Seol-Hwa's right..." Na-Hee utters, panic-stricken. "There really is a ghost..."

At that, you suddenly remember the photo you still had in your possession. Drawing it out of your skirt pocket, you briskly extend it toward the group, directing them to focus on one particular individual. "I think... there's something other than us here. She— that apparition—must have something to do with the game."

"Stop with your nonsense," Jin-Ha chastises. "You all must've faked this video to rid of skepticism."

"You idiot," Jung-Won retorts. "Look at the live stamp. It's filming in real time. I know using your brain isn't something you tend to do, but at the very least, tell me your eyes work."

"Whatever this may be," you start, eyeing everyone in succession, "will you just simply go along with it and play the game until we all perish? What if you win? Do you think you can actually make it out of here alive?" Your voice rises, both in exasperation and resentment. "Is it possible for any of us to be the same afterward?" Shaking your head, you fix the rest with a steely glare. "Get a grip! If we find the correlation between every cryptic piece of information, we might finally be able to break free of this illusion."

Without waiting for a response or agreement, you dash off toward the pool, and as you arrive, to your astonishment, the rest ended up following.

Aside from your friend group, Eun-Ha, Na- Hee, and Yu-Jun, the remaining ones do nothing to help. While you search high and low for the right angle the footage could've been captured from—even a glimpse of a hidden camera—the clock ticks by, drawing ever nearer to the hour of death.

"Time's almost up," Kyung-Jun reminds. "Are you all abandoning the poll then?"

"How about we vote in a different way?" Jun-Hee suggests.

So-Mi runs one hand through her hair as she stands akimbo. "I know you mean well, but we don't have enough time to think of another plan. How are we to do it?"

Kyung-Jun casts her aside carelessly and she stumbles, sending him dirty looks from behind his back. "Do you think we're foolish enough to go along with your idea once again? After your last one nearly ended us all? What bullshit are you spewing now?"

"Listen to him first and then decide," Jung-Won reasons, and that settles it for the time being, her intelligence holding weight.

"We have sixteen votes between all of us, and the basis for execution is by the majority. So, why don't we divide the remaining votes equally?"

"Aren't you just trying to save yourself at this point?" Kyung-Jun questions. "You've already received three. Why not take one for the team?"

"I would gladly do it as a last resort."

Jung-Won steps in before pessimism calls for drastic measures. "If I understand this correctly, you want for us to try splitting our choices in order to force a tie?"

"Yes." Jun-Hee's validation draws both curious and concerned murmurs from the group. "If we do so, it will guarantee that all of us will vote without abstaining, and that one person won't be fixed as a target. It'll bypass all the rules we've learned of so far."

"But, who will be one the one to receive the other half of the votes?"

"I will."

"Are you out of your damn mind?!" Kyung-Jun outstretches his hand, almost as if to convince you otherwise, but withdraws when it occurs to him the setting, opting to clench it at his side instead, the vein on his neck visible even under the dim lights.

"Why?" you press. "You all suspected me from the get-go, did you not?" That stuns everyone into silence, unable to refute. "I won't blame anyone. This is my choice."

[ ᴊɪɴ ᴅᴀ-ʙᴜᴍ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ. ]

[ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴏʜ ᴊᴜɴɢ-ᴡᴏɴ. ]

[ ɪᴍ ᴇᴜɴ-ᴄʜᴀɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ɴᴀᴍ ʏᴇᴏɴ-ᴡᴏᴏ. ]

[ ɴᴀᴍ ʏᴇᴏɴ-ᴡᴏᴏ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ɪᴍ ᴇᴜɴ-ᴄʜᴀɴ. ]

[ ᴀʜɴ ɴᴀ-ʜᴇᴇ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ. ]

[ ᴏʜ ᴊᴜɴɢ-ᴡᴏɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ. ]

[ ʟᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴏɴ-sᴇᴏ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ. ]

[ ʙᴀᴇᴋ ᴇᴜɴ-ʜᴀ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

[ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

[ ᴋɪᴍ ᴅᴏɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ. ]

[ ᴊᴀɴɢ ʜʏᴜɴ-ʜᴏ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

[ ᴄʜᴀ ʏᴜ-ᴊᴜɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ. ]

[ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ. ]

[ ᴄʜᴏɪ ᴍɪ-ɴᴀ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ. ]

[ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ. ]

[ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ ɪs ɴᴏᴡ ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ. ]

Never has the stretch of sixty seconds felt so long as it did waiting for the follow-up announcement.

But, nothing comes.

Tears of happiness and shrieks of excitement ring through as everyone gathers into group hugs, exclaiming words of congratulations, but soon enough, the first flicker of red lights overhead remind you that it is too good to be true.

It is always too good to be true.

[ ᴀs ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴠᴏᴛᴇs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ғɪᴠᴇ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇs. ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴅɪᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄʜᴏᴏsᴇ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟʟʏ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. ɪғ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴛɪᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ. ]

Da-Bum's consternation only serves to intensify the collective panic as the lights dim into obscurity. "We can't just all die here!"

The blaring may drown out the screams, but the horrified looks on everyone's faces ceases to fade, guises set deeper by the shadows casted.

Kyung-Jun points a finger at Jun-Hee while taking steps backward, already set to flee. "I knew it! It should have ended with him!"

Eun-Chan's phone nearly drops out of his hold. "Only five of us should vote right? Aside from myself, Yeon-Woo, Mi-Na, and Yu-Jun are also included. Anyone else?"

"Jun-Hee needs to recast his vote too," Da- Bum recalls. "He voted for Jung-Won earlier."

Jun-Hee turns to you, uttering so lowly you can barely tell if he was talking to himself or to you. "That means you already received one less vote..."

“What do we do?!" Mi-Na cries out.

Without hesitation, So-Mi condemns you while looking you dead in the eyes.

"Kim So-Mi!" Jun-Hee shouts angrily, but it's already too late.

She strides toward you and chucks your phone straight into the very bottom of the pool before yanking the school photo out of your hand, your grip having already gone limp long ago.

Tearing it into shreds, she proceeds to fling it upward into the air above, the pieces raining down on you like joss paper they burn for the dead.

"I thought it was odd when she talked about things that didn't exist and dragged us into this mess. It was going to be her anyway. Just do it!"

"This isn't right and you know it!" Jung-Won pushes her away from you, but all you can do is stand stunned, the sirens resounding far too deafeningly in your ears.

"Fuck!" comes Seung-Bin's agitated voice. "Vote for anyone, godammit!"

"All of this happened because of me," Jun-Hee addresses the group. "Choose me... because I'm the Mafia."

Only then do you snap out of your reverie, turning to him with urgency. "What are you doing? Why are you saying something that isn't true!"

He slights you and barrels on, eyes lifeless and fixated aimlessly. Consequent words that fall from his lips are too toneless, too flat, and too run-of-the-mill, for it to be an admission—all it is is a rehearsed cover up act. "I tricked you into giving up your phones so that it would be impossible to win. Any footage left remaining, I also deleted. If we had the time, I could go on and on about the truths I have hidden and the lies I have told. All I wanted was to survive, but killing people to do so...I cant bear it anymore."

"So he confesses in the end." Kyung-Jun scoffs. "It seems I'm right again."

Disregarding your surroundings, you move toward Jun-Hee and clutch at his hand, the warmth from earlier on the rooftop having dissipated. "I can't let you do this!" you sob out, choking over your words before they can even form. "If you're doing this to protect me, then break the promise you made to yourself. Break it over and over again. I'd trade it all, including myself, to keep you, please..."

It finally dawns on you that in exchange for not smashing the promise into a thousand pieces, your heart is the one that's shattered into a million pieces.

Jun-Hee at long last slides his eyes over to yours, and through your haze of tears, you can see him holding his own back from falling.

You hide your hurt, your disappointment, and your heartbreak, and he pretends he doesn't notice.

His eyes trail over every feature of your face, etching it into memory, and you feel your heart strings snap one by one as he looks at you like it's the last time he ever will.

"You promised! That you would be here for as long as I need you. I still need you, Jun-Hee..."

[ ᴄʜᴏɪ ᴍɪ-ɴᴀ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

[ ɪᴍ ᴇᴜɴ-ᴄʜᴀɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

Pounding footsteps grow fainter and fainter as the others run to safety, leaving everything else behind thoughtlessly.

[ ɴᴀᴍ ʏᴇᴏɴ-ᴡᴏᴏ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

[ ᴄʜᴀ ʏᴜ-ᴊᴜɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

[ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴠᴏᴛᴇs ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠᴇᴅ, ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ. ]

Against the growing distance, you hold on until you can't anymore, until Jun-Hee's fingertips are no longer with reach, slipping away from you.

As you get pulled farther and farther away, the jade stone charm dangles in your peripheral vision and you make a wish.

One last chance at a saving grace.

Please, always come back to me.

When your tears distort the image of Jun-Hee in front of you, all you can feel is the bracelet still wound around your wrist, colored like the red string of fate, tethering you to him.

You cling to the string that feels like it's unwinding, holding on to the millions of fraying threads stretched between you two, keeping it from severing.

Gradually, he wanes from view and all that's left is a carmine inferno in your vision.

Perhaps that harabeoji was right after all.

Luck does only come once in a lifetime.

And that, is the greatest misfortune of all.

𝟬𝟲 : 𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦

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