#I want my characters to feel more like me in a way.

[neopuppy]

Agora Hills (M)

pairing. step-dad Johnny x step-daughter female reader

genre. arrest me daddy officer AU, cop Johnny, angst, M/F, pwp, one shot

warnings. age gap(y/n: 18, Johnny: 38), y/n is manipulative(and has extremely unhealthy coping mechanisms), multiple hook ups, death mentioned, y/n dealing with the loss of her mother by acting out, peeping, boxer-brief snatching, side characters: Jaemin Jeno Jungwoo, this gets pretty nasty. smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

word count. 16k+

now playing. Agora Hills//Doja Cat

smut warnings. dom/sub dynamics, masturbation, stepcest, loss of virginity, heavy on size difference, daddy kink/use of ‘daddy’ + pet names, dry(wet) humping, fingering, face fucking, face slapping, squirting, possessiveness, overstimulation, spitting, choking, handcuff use, multiple orgasms, sex in public, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding, etc

—————————————-

There’s no denying how hard this year has been, each day feels more and more like a battle. It’s hard to wake up, hard to put a brush through your hair, hard to bother with putting away your laundry. Little things really, they feel meaningless, everything generally feels meaningless.

“Hey, it’s already half past noon and you haven’t eaten anything yet.”

Concern rings between each word, dragging your body to the side to blink your eyes open and peer over to where he stands. There’s those same eyes that droop at the corners, never bright or optimistic anymore. They used to hold a softness, love, adoration, never toward you romantically, but still enough to make you feel special. 

You are special to him though, that’s why he’s concerned. Even when he has to look away, maybe because you remind him too much of her. Of the woman you both loved more than anything, the loss you both continue to suffer from. 

“Not hungry.” You mutter, pulling your blanket on tighter as soft fabric rubs against your hips and sets off warmth between your chest.

He sighs, head knocking on the door frame. “You know, I won’t let you deteriorate, your mom would—“

“Mom’s not here.” You say, cutting him off. A small pang of guilt hits when he nods solemnly, chin tucked to his chest without looking at you again.

“Fine. Have it your way.” Letting go of your door handle, he shrugs and shakes his head. “I’ll leave my card and cash out on the counter if you change your mind and get hungry later. Have to get ready for work, I’ll be home late so don’t.. worry about me.”

You’d be lying if you said you won’t worry. You always worry. Always fear the thought of receiving a late night call that he didn’t make it, that he’s on his deathbed hooked up to life support leaving his fate in your hands. Instead you nod and barely raise your fingers out of your blanket to wave goodbye.

It’s always the same routine when he has these night shifts. Pester you about eating, about getting some fresh air, doing something productive with your free vacation time, just being a damn nuisance you don’t want to deal with. You have to get through it, act like you don’t care too much, keep up a calm facade despite the anxious way your heart begins to race.

It’s been weeks of planning, trying to figure out what it would take to make your sweet nurturing step-father finally snap. 

Jaemin: Swing by to get you tonight around 10?

Yeah. That should be late enough, and from the clues you’ve gathered, you know exactly where to go.

The sound of the shower turning on from the master bedroom alerts your ears, jumping out of bed and into your slippers to tiptoe down the hall and twist your mom’s key through the lock to allow yourself in. It’s lucky you’d found it mixed in with a bunch of her items, making it easy to pocket and hide in case you’d ever need it.

He’s already inside of the shower by the time you’ve rounded the corner and crouched down by the connected bathroom door. It gets steamy, but the glass still clears up enough to take in his long muscular legs, sleek lean back, thick arms curling up to run shampoo through his hair.

It’s different today, having to cover your mouth to hold in your gasp when you spot him leaned back against the wall. His eyes are shut tight, sharp eyebrows furrowed together frustratedly, arm jerking furiously. The fog clears up along the glass with each hit of water, making the view of his large hand stroking up and down his length vividly clear. 

To your surprise, he never brings anyone home. Many would consider him to be a young handsome eligible bachelor still, a good career, attractive face, fit body. You certainly wouldn’t be shocked if he decided to start dating again. The sad truth is you often find your step-father still mourning the loss you both took. He cries through the night, wakes up with swollen eyes and dark circles, he plays it off and puts on a smile for your sake but his pain is evident. 

It’s hard to watch him struggle. The way he pulls on his cock seems painful, writing his internal guilt with each whimper and groan that squeezes from his tucked in lips. He doesn’t want you to hear him, he doesn’t want to experience pleasure through his pain. Doesn't think he deserves it.

You wonder what brought this on, what set him off enough to finally break the silent celibacy pact you assume he’s held himself accountable to. Today’s different from the way he barely touches his cock whenever washing suds off his body, scrubbing himself clean in such a robotic way without any expression. 

Sliding onto your knees, you have to adjust the oversized boxers hanging from your hips, rolling them up tighter to squeeze around your middle. He hasn’t mentioned anything about his underwear going missing yet, hasn’t had the nerve to question you about the different items from his closet that he can’t recall seeing for weeks now. It’d be too weird to suspect his step-daughter of invading his privacy and personal belongings while at work. 

Johnny’s always been too nice to ever think you could do anything wrong. Not you, not with the angelic side of yourself you grace him with. It’s almost too easy messing with him, rolling around on his freshly washed sheets when he leaves for work, spraying his cologne on your pillows to feel closer to him.

He won’t say anything even if he notices a familiar print of his underwear peeking out from your pajama bottoms.

“Shit.” You murmur, pushing back on your legs to inconspicuously crawl your way out before he can exit the bathroom. Too fast to sneak out to take in the evident failure pulling his cheeks down into a frown.

Johnny’s lonely, he’s real lonely, and you can fix that. You want to fix that.

A knock rasps down your door minutes later, halting your hand from traveling past the waistband of your stolen boxers after burrowing back inside of your bed. “I’ll be heading out now, if you need anything I’m only a phone call away.” 

Staying silent for a moment, you decide to get up and listen at the door for his breathing. Keeping your movements light enough to not make the floor creak as you make your way over. His breath comes out evenly, fingers tapping a couple of times along the doorbed before he lets out a quiet sigh and turns to leave. 

It’s better for him to believe that you went back to sleep, lessen any possible suspicion, cover your ass if you ever fuck up and accidentally leave evidence. He’s too good at his job.

The cop car stays parked across the street from your house most days when he’s working a lot, not helping the ongoing joke you hear about how your step-dad does that on purpose to ward away the men who want to date you. For the most part it worked too, living by his rules to focus on your education throughout high school and not waste your time fucking around with teenage boys.

Times have changed though, and with this year long break you both agreed would be best for your mental health, you have gotten bored.

Beyond bored. 

Sneaking over to your window, you watch as he takes one last glance back at the house before getting inside of the car. He’s handsome as ever in that stupid pig uniform, the halster cinching his waist in further really accentuating his build.

Jaemin: Your step-dad’s not roaming the streets tonight by chance? 

Watching his car drive off you reply with an angel emoji, exclaiming how excited you are to get out.

“I’ll see you later Johnny.”

—————————————-

“Didn’t think you’d ever agree to going out with me.” Jaemin grins from ear to ear. Rounding his car to get the passenger door opened for you. 

“Don’t be so modest, you know I’m into you.” You say flirtatiously, settling into the car seat. His eyebrows raise, grabbing onto the roof of the car to duck his head inside. 

“You seem to be into a lot of guys.”

That’s true, you can’t lie about that. Opting to offer him a coy smile, you shrug and tap the tip of his nose. “And you’re at the top of that list.”

Scrunching his nose back at you, he nods acceptingly. “Not only that, but your dad—“

“Step dad.” You’re fast to correct, clearing your throat. “He’s not my father.”

“Right, that, well..” Jaemin stands up straight, cooling his hands off on his jeans from the hot car roof. “Isn’t he like, a cop?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“Thought you told Haechan last semester that you’re not allowed to date..” walking around, he gets into the driver seat and reaches over to buckle your seatbelt. “Didn’t you say that’s his rule? Your step dad?”

“You sure do have a lot of questions, Jaemin.”

“I’m not trying to piss off a cop.” He chuckles, gripping onto the steering wheel. “Silly if you ask me. You’re 18, he can’t expect you to stay abstinent until marriage.”

“Well he does.” 

“Oh.”

“And I don’t care.” Leaning over the middle, you grip onto his thigh. “Right now all I care about is you and me.”

Jaemin’s mouth falls open with a hidden smile, eyeing your hand inching up his thigh. “Someone’s eager.”

“Let’s go to Agora Hills.”

“What??” Snapping his head up, he stares at you with blown out wide eyes. “Oh I thought—“

“You thought wrong, let’s go.”

Slowly nodding, he releases the brake to pull out of your street. Shaking off his shock as he pulls onto the freeway toward the notorious spot up in the mountains. “Well, if I had known, I wouldn't have made a reservation for us at that new Italian pizza spot.”

“Not really hungry,” you shrug, gripping at his inner thigh. “Not for food anyway.”

Jaemin’s eyebrows raise all the way up, a grin spreading on his face as he steps down on the gas pedal and switches to the fast lane. “Don’t think I’ve ever made it out here this fast.”

Directing him to park off in the more secluded area, you smirk and push your way past him to the backseat. “Let’s not waste time.” You say with a wink over your shoulder at him. “I’m so wet already.”

“Fuck.” He practically howls, using the door to get out and climb into the backseat with you. “You really weren’t playing with me with all those slutty pictures, huh?”

“Want you so much.” You say huskily, climbing onto his lap before he can fully even settle into the backseat. “All I can think about.”

Jaemin’s state of shock can’t leave him fast enough, groping his palms up and down your sides. He grabs onto your hips and squeezes, hissing between his teeth. “Fuck, you’re so sexy. Been waiting for you to be legal ever since I saw you last summer at my little bro’s party.”

That’s when it all started. Last summer when Jisung invited you to his graduation party. The group of guys you’d come to know as his older brother and college friends couldn’t take their perverse eyes off of you. The appeal of your innocence had struck a nerve for every single one of them, desperate to stay in touch with the forbidden fruit they knew better than to dare to take a bite of.

“You’ve been so good,” you hum, grabbing onto his bare biceps. Gripping the smooth soft skin between your digits. “So patient, waiting for me like such a good boy.”

Jaemin’s head falls back against the seat, front teeth exposed between his plump pink lips. Thick eyelashes fanning heavily over his lust-filled gaze. “You still a virgin?” He questions curiously, sliding his hands beneath your baggy t-shirt. “Never heard a virgin talk like that..”

“I watch a lot of porn.” You say cheekily, running the tip of your nose against his. “And I’m so fucking horny.”

Jaemin’s throat bobs, hips jerking up under yours. “Fuck, you’re seriously something.”

To reaffirm that, you roll your hips down against his. Building up a fast and hard rhythm against his crotch. “Didn’t Jisung tell you about me? I gave him his first blow job.”

Letting out a howling laugh, he cups over your bra and squeezes your breasts. “Of course you did, that little fucker can’t believe he never mentioned it.”

“So greedy, wanted to keep me allll to himself.” You moan, wrapping around his built shoulders. “Fuck, that feels good.” Grinding down your hips faster, you fall into a rapid bouncing motion. Assisted by his large palms clutching your hips to rock you up and down his clothed hard-on even faster.

“Bet you can cum like this, nasty slut.” He pants between his teeth. Hammering his hips up to meet your middle with each slam against his cock. “Fuck you’re really dripping baby.”

The flimsy pajama shorts you snuck out in hardly do anything to conceal the thin material of underwear plastered to your cunt. Soaked through and pressed directly against Jaemin’s sweats as your shorts move to one side and fully expose your panties. “Making a mess all over me.”

Biting down hard on your lip, you nod against his forehead and swallow down throaty whimpers. “More more, gimme more!”

Jaemin slinks down into the backseat more, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist. He pulls you to his chest and rams his hips up faster. The sound of your covered bodies slamming down on each other fills the car between groans and stuck inhales of breath. Digging your nails into his shoulders as the friction builds and rubs your underwear against your clit painfully. “Ah! T-that hurts!” You whine, not stopping your lower half from fucking dowm against the material of his drenched sweats. “You’re so big!”

“Fuck, ah yeah.” He grunts, reaching lower to bury his hands inside the back of your shorts and grab onto your ass. “G-gonna fill you up so fucking good baby. Make you take my cock like a real whore.”

“Ah, please please.” Scrabbling at his chest, you circle your hips down with rabid need. Pressing your clothed clit right against his throbbing length to reach your orgasm. Sucking at his bottom lip, he concentrates on rolling you up and down on his size. Jerking up each time your pulse against his cock.

“Fuck yeah baby, just like that.” He nearly drools, shoving your shirt up with one hand to place his palm against your stomach. “Faster!”

Getting his other hand on your lower back, he ruts you against him vigorously. Mouth hung open as pre-cum drips out of his cock and makes his boxers sticky. 

“Ah!” Falling against him, you tremble and wrap your weak hold onto his thick biceps. “I’m—I’m—“

Jaemin sits the both of you up straight again, jabbing his cock between your ruined panties. “Good fucking whore.”

“Fuck, ahh!”

Shaky hands run up his shoulders to his neck. Latching your lips onto his for a kiss that turns hungry within seconds. Seeking out each other’s taste through your release spilling out onto his groin. He licks at every crevice, sucking your tongue to steal your moan as he continues to fuck your clothed cunt after you’ve finished.

“S’too—“

“Shut the fuck up.” He spits, more aggressive as he slaps his hands down on your ass and throws you down against his cock. “Make me cum, virgin slut.”

Lights blare into the rearview window followed by the sound of rubble and rocks under rubber tires coming to a stop nearby. The bang of a door and heavy footsteps play between the sounds of your heavy panting, mixed moans and tongues gliding against each other. 

“Shit babe, stop. It’s the cops.” He says in a breathy panic, gripping onto your hips with extra strength to stop your grinding. “Fuck, what the fuck.”

“Open up.” A tap tap tap hits against the backseat window, freezing both of you in place. “Police.”

“Shit, shit, oh my God.” Shoving you off, he quickly readjusts his hardened length. Swiping a palm down his face to clean off the sweat dripping down from his hairline. Sitting up and clearing his throat, he rolls down the window with a shaky smile. “Officer.”

A familiar face pops into view, bending down with his arms rested against the car window. “Do you know that you’re on private prop—“

“Hi daddy.”

Johnny’s face goes near white when you sit up behind Jaemin’s broad frame. Speech cut off by his loosened jaw hanging his mouth open.

“Ah, fuck.” Jaemin whispers under his breath, scratching at his neck nervously. “Officer, I’m sorry, I didn’t see any signs.. it’s so dark out here.”

“Get out of the car.” Johnny points at you, directing you toward the door at your side. “Now.”

“Okay.” Hiding a smile, you press to Jaemin’s side to leave a kiss against his ear. “Sorry about this, I’ll text you.”

Too afraid to speak, he nudges you away and frantically nods. “Just go, oh my god.”

“Ugh.” Rolling your eyes, you slide out of the backseat to be greeted by your step-father half-sat on the trunk of Jaemin’s car. “Didn’t know you parole the hills too.”

“I don’t normally.” He says much too calmly for your liking. “Officer that usually does has been on leave because his wife just gave birth. That’s why I’ve been working more this last week.”

“Oh.” You knew that, of course. Having stood in the hallway sneakily while he went over his extra hours with his lead. “I had no idea this was private property.”

Pushing off the car, he hooks onto your elbow. “Let’s get you home.”

“What?” Ripping out of his hold, you shove him away. “I’m on a date.”

“It’s 1 in the morning.” Deep lines resembling whiskers appear on his cheeks, sucking at the backs of his teeth. “Now,” opening up the passenger seat door to his cop car, he tips his chin toward you. “Get in.”

“Such bullshit.” You mutter, plopping into the cop car petulantly. 

“Language.” Slamming the door shut, he rounds to the driver side, tapping the drunk of Jaemin’s car. “Get out of here boy.”

“Yes sir!” He calls out, running back to the front of the car to get his engine warmed up.

“Pussy.” You scoff to yourself, turning your torso to glare at your step-father. “Thanks for ruining my night.”

“Last I checked, you’re not even supposed to be out this late.” Reaching over to click in your seatbelt, he begins to drive off. “Since when do you sneak out past curfew? Is this something new I should look forward to now that you’re an adult?”

Johnny’s jaw twitches, tapping along the steering wheel without taking his eyes off the road. Tension between the passenger and driver seat grows thicker by the second, forcing your hands to ball up into tight fists.

“Are you mad at me?” You ask quietly, keeping your gaze lowered to your balled up hands. 

“No, I’m not mad.” He sighs, gripping the wheel tighter. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Clearing his throat, he hums and squints. “Are you dating him?”

“No.”

“Right.”

“You’re mad.”

“I’m not mad.” He huffs, exiting the freeway that takes you back home. “You snuck out behind my back to meet some guy that isn’t your boyfriend, why would I be mad.”

“Well you have no right to be mad, you’re not my fath—“

“I’m not your father.” Johnny finishes for you, pulling into the same empty spot on the street out in front of your house where he always parks the cop car when he’s working overtime. “But I am your legal guardian.”

“I’m eighteen.” 

“I’m aware, you haven’t gone a day without reminding me.” He smiles softly, turning to face you. “Listen, I’m happy to see you out of your room, living life. Even if it means finding you at Agora Hills of all places with some boy.”

“He’s 21.” You mention to annoy him, unable to catch any sign of change in his calm expression. 

“Yes, I saw his drivers license.” He informs, tight-lipped. “You still live under my roof and therefore must adhere to my rules.”

“I don’t want to.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you slump into the passenger seat. “Your rules are dated and overbearing.”

“Okay, which of my rules would you like to negotiate to change?”

“A ten o’clock curfew is ridiculous, I’m not a child anymore Johnny.”

“It is a bit late right now.” Motioning to the time on the car's dash, he runs a hand through his hair. A anxious habit of tugging at the ends. “How about midnight?”

“That’s still too early.”

“That’s two extra hours.” He says firmly. “And if you’re going to be out at these late hours with 21 year old men, I’d like to meet them first. For your safety, I’m not asking for anything outlandish here.”

“I already told you, he’s just some guy I’m fucking.” Sitting up, you make sure to emphasize the end of your sentence. “Well, would be fucking right now if you hadn’t interrupted.”

Johnny visibly swallows, tucking his bottom lip under the top row of his teeth to not respond abruptly with any anger. “You can’t expect me to be a virgin until I get married, Johnny. I’m an adult now, I have to go out and explore! It’s part of growing up!”

“Midnight, and no later. If you plan to stay out any later, I at least want you to come back home where I know you’re safe. And if I’ve already met him, he can even come over.”

“To my room?”

“With the door open.”

“Come on man!” Smacking the compartment between you, you lean closer to his face. “Would you rather me run out to Agora Hills every night behind your back to get railed in the backseat of some guy’s car? Or at least come home where you know my whereabouts?”

Pursing his lips tight, he leans away from you. “I have to get back to work, please, don’t sneak out again. We’ll discuss this tomorrow.”

Giving him a look that could kill, you grab onto the door handle to exit. 

“By the way,” he looks over you much too fast. Turning away, showing off his perfect sharp jawline. “You can do much better than some 21 year old loser that’s going to take you out to Agora Hills of all places.”

“Whatever.” Shoving the door open with too much force, you kick it shut like a total brat. “You’re ruining my life!” Storming to the front door, you glare at him over your shoulder for one more look.

Fuck he always looks so criminally good in his stupid uniform. Another night with your vibrator attached to your clit for hours until you go near blind would have to get you through this, again.

Flipping him off, you slam the door shut behind you and make the walk of shame to your bedroom with clenched thighs. Arguing with your step-dad always managed to get your blood boiling, heat churning through your stomach. He never argues back, never raises his voice at you, hardly ever even displays much of a reaction.

It’s sickening how watching this big hunk of an authoritarian man act so weak with you always gets you going. Crawling back to your bed, you search for the dildo you purchased using his account to ensure he’d see it in his purchase history. Johnny never said anything, he never does, practically allows you to walk all over him. Especially ever since your mother passed away. As fucked up as it is to take advantage of his kind heart, you can’t feel bad. 

Turning to face your window, you wait for the sound of his engine to exit the street. Sighing to yourself as the buzz between your thighs gets louder and you turn on the highest setting. 

You’re going to need it after that.

—————————————-

“So what is this? I thought you were dating Jaemin.”

“Dating?” You question with raised eyebrows full of sarcasm. 

“You know what I mean..” he remarks equally as sarcastically. Leaning against the hood of his car. His baby really. 

Everyone knows about Jeno’s legendary sports car that he spends hours working on. The exterior beams shinier than any cheek highlighter could ever with the amount of time he spends waxing it. Endless summers of working odd jobs that hired underage teenagers with a permit for some chump change finally garnered him enough to set down a decently size down payment. 

The ridiculous sports car zooming around your town always seemed to piss off the local police, most specifically your step-father.

“I want you to take me to Agora Hills.” You say cheerfully, tapping at his thick arms crossed over his chest. 

“Pfft, I don’t go up there.”

“Why not?” You pout, making him roll his eyes.

“So your daddy can prowl my ass and slap me with a ticket? No thanks.” Jeno scoffs, grabbing your wrists before you’re able to smack his biceps again.

“Don’t call him that.” Unable to tug yourself out of his grip, you lean in closer to his chest. “He’s my step-dad.”

“Narc is what he is, I swear that dick head pulls me over at least every other week.” Jeno grunts, tugging your arms down to pull you closer to him, chest to chest. “We can go to my place, sneak through the back. My parents won’t know you’re there.”

“Nooo, I wanna go to Agora Hills.” You whine, continuing to pout with a stomp of your foot. “Wanna suck you off in the backseat of your fuck-mobile.”

Jeno’s eyebrow raises, half-laughing with a curious glint in his gaze. “Never heard that one before.”

“You’ve also never given me a taste before.” With a cunning smirk, you press in closer. Teasing his chin with a flick of your tongue. “Stop being so selfish.”

“What’s with you and that spot? I don’t get the big deal.”

“Every girl wants to lose their virginity up at Agora Hills.”

Jeno seems awestruck for a moment, nudging his nose against your cheek. “You’re a virgin?”

“Did Jaemin tell you that I’m not?”

A pleased smirk slowly creeps onto his face, lowering his gaze to your lips. “If every girl dreams of getting fucked out there, I can only imagine how often you dream about getting fucked in the backseat of my car.”

“Let’s go.”

—————————————-

“I like your lips.” Jeno leans back against his seat after parking. Slowly dragging his gaze from your eyes to your lip gloss lathered mouth. “Bet they’d look really nice, all swollen and red, wrapped up pretty around my cock.”

Smoothing a hand down his stomach, he runs his bony long digits down the zipper of his jeans. “Do you like sucking cock?”

He’s already hard, rubbing over the bulge that’s pressed against his crotch. Lazily teasing at himself as you check him out and your eyes bounce over his lower half. “I haven’t.. done it too much.”

“Pftt..” his tongue clicks, tracing the outline of his member along the material of his pants. “That’s a shame.. I like girls with experience.”

“I like to learn.” You say abruptly, dropping your chin shyly. “I may not be experienced but you can teach me how to do whatever you like..”

“Are you asking me to train you?” He asks smuggly, smirking to one side. “Train you on how to suck my cock?”

“If that’s what you want..”

Jeno seems pleased by your response, eyes bouncing and sparkling with intrigue. Seemingly enjoying how embarrassed and humiliated you’ve become from his questions. “Show me your tits.” He says flatly, leaning deeper into his seat. 

Anything Jeno says to you right now has to be done. You’re here with a mission and it’s to make sure you get caught, even if it means taking off your top. Throwing it aside, you sit up on the passenger seat on your knees. Dragging your hands up your stomach to cup under your bra-clad breasts. Shoving your cleavage up together, bouncing your perky mounds of fat for his enjoyment.

Jeno reaches out to land a slap on one of your tits, humming and moving your hand out of his way to cradle one of your breasts. Sweeping his thumb down, he presses roughly against your nipple. Smoothing his fingers over your chest to squeeze and pinch the hardened bud through the fabric of your bra. “You have great tits.” He notes, all while focused on your chest. His other hand reaches out so that he can massage both of your breasts. “Nice and big.”

It’s hot in his car now, arching your back forward for him to enjoy your chest more. Nipples tugged at, lowering the cups of your bra underneath your tits so that he can properly flick and squeeze at them. Underwear grows uncomfortably damp pressed against your core, gripping your thighs together harshly to stop yourself from bursting out a tunnel of hot liquid. “Like how I play with your pretty titties?”

“Uh-huh..” you mutter quietly, looking down at how large and veiny his hands look while squeezing your fleshy fat. Digging the tips of his fingers into your tits as if you’re some type of stress ball.

“Bet they’d look so good milking my cock.” He hisses between his teeth. “You wet for me now, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you nod eagerly. Throat dry, voice shaky to hold in your moans. He continues to pinch, rolling your nipples between his fingers.

“Bet your wet pussy’s throbbing, aching to feel my cock.” He says, hands dropping back to his crotch. Inhales of air fight your dry throat, watching as his hand drags down his zipper once again. Tented large against his tight jeans, he sits up straight and slowly begins to free himself; sucking in a deep breath as he gingerly pulls his cock out.

Heat flushes down your chest, struggling to take your next breath. He strokes once, twice, three times to spread around the precum gathered at his slit. Veiny cock pulsating against his palm with each drag, the glistening head so flushed it looks near red. 

“You’re really.. fucking big.” You drool, spit pooled all around your tongue. “I always thought you would be, with how cocky you are.”

“You talk too much, you know that?” Jeno scoffs, flicking your chin. “Show me that mouth is useful for something more than yapping.” Pinching your chin, he shoves his pants down lower and settles back with his hands behind his head. “You wanted to suck my dick? Start sucking, and be careful to not use your teeth.”

Dropping your jaw open with a thrilled nod, you bend over to get your mouth positioned above his erect cock. Drooling for a taste with your tongue lolled out over your bottom lip.

Gripping around the base of his size, he slides his other hand into the back of your hair and grips tightly. “Keep those pretty lips open nice and wide for me baby. Lay your cheek down on my thigh like this.” Pulling on your hair, he angles your face to the side so that he can watch the tip of his dick drag along your upper lip. Smearing your glittering lip gloss all over his already shiny cockhead. 

“You look so fucking cute like this.” He grins, biting back a groan when you start to flick your tongue out against his slit. “Wanna see you take every inch.”

The angles not the best for your neck, especially positioned in his car to not jab your stomach with his shift. You open wide for him to begin feeding his length inside of your mouth. Eyebrows furrowing once he gets a few inches in and you feel a painful stretch pull at your lips. Pushing in past the gagging sounds that reverberate around him, he aids the glide with a press of his hand to the back of your neck. “Come on pretty, take all of it.”

Already taking in loud deep breaths through his nose, he grits his teeth and releases the base of his size. Sliding the last few inches in despite how you choke and tighten up around him. It feels too good to stop now, fucking spit out past your mouth with his thick cock filling you up. The tip meeting his palm laid out on the back of your neck. “Sucking dick like a pornstar.” He rasps. Deep tone falling even lower, husky and thick with horny lust.

Gathering a bundle of your hair, he pushes against your stuffed mouth once more. Testing out how much your gag reflex can handle with half of his dick already resting heavy in the back of your throat. The extra gurgle of spit that spills out around him allows his hips to speed up and thrust in and out. Using the extra lubrication to thrust again and again and again. Holding you down roughly as a throaty deep groan exits his lips and you suffocate on his cock. Lurching around the massive intrusion, flailing your hands and slapping his thighs.

“Holy fuck that’s so good!” Jeno cries out. Lifting his hips off of the car seat as he bottoms out inside of your mouth once again. Tears spring free from your eyes, panting heavily through your nose. The biggest cock you’ve ever swallowed fucks your throat hard enough to leave it’s shape behind. The heady scent of tangy ball sweat and soap fills your head, forgetting that you’re here to piss off your step-father as your hair gets pulled at roughly once more.

Wet gagging fills up the car, the sound of skin clashing against skin emitting with the forceful thrusts he delivers. Cum-filled sack slapped against your cheek each time further solidifying what a whore you are right now. 

Jeno throws his head back letting out another howled moan. Holding your head down and grinding his cock in your throat with circling hips. Agonizing seconds go on like minutes, and all you can do is swallow and heave around him. Making the biggest mess of drool and tears beneath his ass. The resistance to gag again becomes weaker the longer he keeps you there, nose pressed up against the stubble of pubic hair left from shaving a few days ago. 

Finally hauling your mouth off pours out an obscene amount of spit. Drenching his thighs and groin with tons of it as you continue to hold in your gag and cough, gasping for air with wide teary eyes. “J-Jeno—“

“What a fucking good cock slut you are.” He sneers, brutally grasping your cheeks. His fingers dig into the hollows, shaking your head side to side. “Tried to lie to me, sucking dick like it’s oxygen.” He scoffs, releasing your cheeks with a wet slap to your face. Not too hard but enough to shock you, turn your neck to one side. “If I’d known you could take cock like this..”

He whistles, cupping your face with both hands to look at him. “Look so pretty like this.” Picking the wads of spit clinging to your chin, his palm rubs all over your face. Mascara stained down your cheeks, lips dried of gloss and swollen from painfully stretching out.

Smacking at your cheek again, he pulls your bottom lip open for your tongue to hang out. Kissing at the backs of his teeth as he presses down the center of your tongue. “Fucking nasty.” 

Without another second to waste, he shoves your head back down and kicks his hips up. Lining his cock up to your mouth with ease, no guided direction needed. Fucking deep into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat again. Swallowing around his cock sliding through your wet mouth, pulsating on your tongue, trapping your air to the point of feeling lightheaded. His hands slap down on the back of your head, pushing his hips up with violent thrusts.

“Throat taking me so fucking good.” Jeno’s teeth grind. Hips falling back down to the seat with wet splats only to thrusts even rougher into your mouth. Heavy sack slapping your face harder than before. “Slutty throat, just another hole for me to use and ruin.”

A loud broken groan leads to him pulling you off, smacking his fat wet cock down on your cheek. Shoving your messed up hair out of your face to begin dragging his long girth down the center of your nose.

Lights streak through the car window, an alarm ripping you both out of your horny daze. Jerking through your spine as you cough under his length and squint up at the bright’s illuminating his face.

“Fuck. Shit. Get off of me!” Jeno curses, shoving himself away from you with his hands pushing against the backseat. “I fucking knew I shouldn’t have come up here with you.”

Your step-dad’s timing is really something. Not that you planned everything perfectly to make sure he always finds you before anything can actually escalate and go too far between you and whatever guy you’ve managed to lure up here.

No, that would be diabolical wouldn’t it? Your step-father would be the last to believe that any of this could possibly be on purpose. He loves you too much to believe negatively of you. That’s what eats away at you sometimes. He’s just too damn nice to you to the point that it drives you insane. Because you want him—no, you need him to be anything but nice to you. Your mother would have scolded him for spoiling you all of the time, for accepting what an insolent brat you’ve been ever since her funeral.

Knock knock knock taps at the backseat window on Jeno’s side. You ignore it and continue to search for your top, knowing this is likely where your night ends.

“It’s your dad.” He says under his breath, pushing down the window button to open. “Officer.”

“Lee.” He sounds calm and easy as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary, no tension or frustration there. It’s infuriating, he should sound fucking pissed. His head pops into view, leaning over the car window with a soft smile and nod in your direction. “Hello, again.”

“Daddy.” You smile coquettishly. Wiping your chin off with the back of your hand and leaning over Jeno to get closer to him. “Is there a problem, officer?”

“Get out of the car.” Johnny says deeply. Tone falling into a serious one before tapping the hood of the vehicle and pulling away to stand up straight. “Right now.”

Jeno snickers quietly, nodding his chin for you to exit his car. “Whatever.” You mumble, using extra force to slam his backseat door shut. 

“It’s 1am, you know?” Your step-father asks, eyes dragging down your frame. His eyebrows furrowed together as he takes in how crumpled and strewn your t-shirt looks. How obscenely tiny and tight your shorts are. How he’s never seen your eyes and lips this swollen before. The light makeup you had on earlier ruined and smeared down your cheeks. “What did I tell you about coming out here?”

“Oh come on, you want me to be the only freak in this town that never visits Agora Hills? So I can be ostracized by every girl when I start school up again? What if I want to join a sorority?!” You complain, huffing past him with a roll of your eyes. “God, you seriously expect me to be known as some damn loser too depressed to ever go out ever since my mom died.”

Johnny grabs a hold of your arm before you reach the passenger door of his vehicle, spinning you around to face him. “Is that what this is about? You’re worried the other kids in school will judge you for being.. sad?”

“I’m not a kid!” Shouting at him, you stomp angrily. Further proving how immature and volatile you still handle your emotions. “I’m eighteen!!”

Taking a deep breath and a step back, he nods and releases your arm. “Yes, I know.” His eyebrows wrinkle together, rubbing at his cheeks hard enough to drag the aged skin down. Pulling at his face with a frustrated sigh. “I’m doing my best.”

“You think you are? You think this is your best?” You poke at him, stepping into his space to look up at him. Having to crane your neck to keep direct eye contact. “You can’t even bring yourself to punish me daddy.”

Johnny staggers for a moment, cheeks hallowed, droopy eyes darkening for a flash of a second. 

“I—I don’t want to punish you.” He whispers. Dropping his hands down to his hips defeatedly. “You’ve been through enough.”

“Then maybe you’re not fit to be a father. Certainly not my father.” You say snidely, turning your back to him to get inside of his cop car.

Johnny watches you fold your arms over your chest, slamming your back into the passenger seat. Shivering at the sound of the car door rattling shut from the forceful impact you use to shut it. If he was stronger, he’d be able to say something, to do something about your behavior. 

Instead he opens the passenger door to open up the glove compartment to retrieve a pack of tissues. He won’t ask anything, he won’t even speculate or allow himself to imagine what could have ruined your mascara like this. He dabs your cheeks clean instead, leaving the rest of the tissues on your lap for you to use before buckling your seatbelt in and rounding the car to drive you home.

You’re right, he’s not fit to be a father, especially not a widowed one who's been deprived of the touch of another for months now. He can’t even figure out how to deal with his own morbid thoughts, the sad empty black hole that’s formed in his heart. How is he supposed to do what’s best for you? And what is best for you exactly...

Can’t be the thoughts he shoves aside that keep him up at night. The quiet things he envisions when his eyes finally fall shut. The way he buries his face into your basket of dirty laundry, spends extra time folding everything up for you just so he can vividly imagine what you’d look like in all of the different pairs of underwear he washed for you.

He’s only surprised the spirit of your mother hasn’t stricken him to suffer an eternity in purgatory yet..

—————————————-

“Oh, you’re not working today?”

Johnny’s head lifts from the couch, his sleepy eyes blinking a few times before unblurring the image of you in nothing but his boxers and a baggy old tshirt of his.

“I’m off today.” He mutters quietly, tight-lipped as he looks you over again. “Where did you find that?”

Making your way to the couch, you pull on the hem of his shirt. Scrunching up the worn down fabric between your fingers and tugging. “Oh this? I think it got mixed in with my laundry a few months back.” With a smile you plop down right next to him. Avoiding the massive empty space on the couch you could have taken up, instead nestling into his side. “What should we watch?”

He frowns, not wanting to question why you’re wearing a pair of his tattered checkered print boxers. The same way your mother often would in the past, along with his old band shirts.. 

You probably just miss her is all. He misses her too, every hour and minute of his life. Not that seeing you resemble her almost down to a tea makes him feel any better, only consumed by guilt as he steals another look at you.

“Dad?” You speak up, wrapping around his arm to alert him. “You’re zoning out again.”

Again, yes. He does that a lot these days.

“Sorry, uhm, your choice sweetie. Been working so much these days I’m not even sure what’s new on tv.”

“Good thing for you, all I do is watch TV.” You grin, cuddling into his side more. Draping your head and neck along his shoulder.

Johnny’s used to it, you’ve always been rather touchy with him. He doesn’t mind it at all, always took pride in how comfortable you felt around him. He’d never want to make you feel any other way. More than honored to be referred to as your dad when you introduce him, he hums and smiles. Leaning back against the couch cushion with his half shut eyes. “Nothing too scary, I don’t want you staying up having nightmares all night again.”

“Oh come onnnn dad I was like thirteen!!” You whine, slapping his chest. “Besides, you’d let me sleep with you if I got scared, right? Just like back then.” You add with a sneaking smile, nuzzling in even closer.

Your mom had seemed slightly annoyed back then when you came into their room crying during the middle of the night. You’d climbed between them in bed and curled into Johnny’s front, wrapping your small arms around him. He’d never known what it was like to be a father until he had the chance to help raise you. Even now he’s not sure he’s really doing this right..

Ignoring how warm and small you feel pressed to his side, he clears his throat.

“That boy last night..” he says softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Do you like this one?”

A playful glint in your gaze finds his look of confusion. Directing the remote toward his face, you smile. “I like something about him a whole lot, more than any other boy.”

“Is he—this one, your boyfriend?”

“None of them are my boyfriend.” Turning toward him to face him better, you lay a hand against his chest. “None of them really deserve to be my boyfriend.”

It’s normal to experiment and make experiences to learn what you like, what you’re looking for. He has to bite his tongue to keep that to himself. It’s not actually any of his business who you end up forming a relationship with; not unless that boy wants to make it his business. Pursing his lips, he nods firmly, changing his focus back to the tv to drop this topic.

“Besides, Jaemin, Jeno.. they’re not exactly my type.” You add with a flirty tone. “Like Lana sang, I got a taste for men that’s older.”

Johnny’s spine freezes at that, not wanting to engage you anymore. “Should probably find something to watch before it gets too late.”

“What about you daddy?” You practically squeak, crawling your digits up his chest. “You haven’t tried to date at all since mom passed. I wouldn’t judge you for dating someone younger.. I know men have needs.”

Taking a quick hold of your hand, he has to control himself from crushing your palm in his. A serious gaze silently warning you before clearing his throat. “I really have no interest in dating anyone else. Losing your mother has been one of the biggest most unforeseeable losses I’ve ever experienced. No one will ever match up to her for me.”

A look of disappointment paints across your face, turning your lips downward as you slowly nod. “No one?”

“No one.” Johnny says between gritted teeth, releasing your hand. “Let’s watch something already, alright? I need to catch up on sleep tonight.”

The same solemn pout stays on your face even after finding a movie to watch. Some cheesy romcom that Johnny can’t help to think your mom would have loved, you always would spend your weekends watching them together with her. Now you only have him, it’s only normal that you’re acting up more than usual. You always were a good girl, never disobeyed your mother’s rules..

He can’t let you walk down the wrong path, it’s not what she would have wanted for you. Getting caught in the backseat of random boys cars up at damn Agora Hills of all places. She’d be let down, likely punish you and ban your phone privileges for weeks..

He can’t do that to you though. Not when he’s hurting this much and knows inside of his heart that you can only be hurting so much more.

At least he’ll be able to keep an eye on you if you do sneak out there again anytime soon. The one privilege he has over your life as a cop on duty, to at least stop you from trespassing and breaking any laws. 

These thoughts riddle him more and more to the point of exhaustion. Lightly snoring halfway into the movie before the lead actors can even share their first kiss. The sound of his huffed breaths between soft snores catches your ear, gingerly picking your head up from his shoulder to look at him.

He’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. High sculpted cheekbones, beautiful long brown eyes, his straight nose and jawline sharp enough to cut through glass. And his lips, his thick pouty lips that linger through your mind day and night. They tease and taunt each time he talks to you, whether he’s tucking in his bottom lip or speaking with extra emphasis on his juicy pout. You can’t stop dreaming about what they’d feel like against yours, how soft and yet powerful a kiss from your step-dad could be..

Hovering your fingers near the tendrils of hair that have fallen over his forehead, you slowly ease them back. Stroking through his scalp softly much like your mother used to when Johnny would come home late from working, exhausted and resting on her lap, lulled to sleep so easily. 

He can’t really believe that no one will ever peak his curiosity or make his heart pound again? He’s too young to live so miserably.. to never love again. A push in the right direction is all he needs, someone to set off alarms inside of him that have stayed dormant for months. If anyone can make him happy again, it’s you.

You can fulfill that emptiness in his chest, bring butterflies back to life in his stomach, give him a sense of worth to take care of somebody else..

He stirs after a bit, blinking slowly, reaching to wipe drool away from the corners of his lips. Tired droopy eyes failing to stay open when he sees you still by him. “Fell asleep, sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re tired. We can go to bed.”

“Sorry.” He mouths again, groaning as he sits up and you latch onto his arm to help him stand.

“You don’t have to apologize for being tired. You’ve been working really late.”

“Mmm… we both have been up too late these days, haven’t we?” Johnny stops at his bedroom door. Leaning against the wall with a stern raised eyebrow. “Should I expect to catch you out past curfew again?”

“Curfew doesn’t matter anymore daddy.” You smile sweetly, poking his chest. “I’m an adult now.”

He frowns for only a second, looking away as a deep exhausted sigh exits his mouth. “Might be corny to hear, but you’ll always be a little sweet girl to me.”

He isn’t watching to see the sheer look of disappointment dragging your smile away. Having to bite down on your teeth to contain your annoyance, you force an amused smirk. “Your little girl? Will I always be yours?”

Johnny’s tired sleep-ridden gaze trails upward, blinking away from your lips to your sparkling awaiting eyes. Pressing the side of his head to the door, he shrugs and nods. “Of course sweetie, for as long as you’ll need me. I’ll forever be indebted to you.”

It’s not exactly what you want to hear, but it’s enough. Reaching for his waist, you slink your arms through to wrap around him. Smashing your cheek to his chest for a warm hug. “You mean everything to me daddy, you’re the only reason I’m still here.”

There’s more implication behind your words than he’d prefer to fully understand. Floating hands hover over your back, slowly shutting his eyes as he succumbs and squeezes you close to himself. Maybe this is why he lets you get away with everything, your mom would berate him for it. Say that he was far too easy on you, all it took was one cute little smile from you and he’d be wrapped around your finger. He just wanted to be a good father figure for you, that’s all..

“I’ve been having nightmares again.” You whisper, rubbing your face against his chest. “Like before..”

“Like before?” 

After your mother had passed, he heard you crying in the middle of the night. Pushing your cracked door fully open to find you curled up in bed shaking and wracked by sobs..

Johnny had held you and tried to comfort you as you wailed, screamed your cries and clutched at him desperately. It was the hardest few weeks he ever had to endure. Staying up for countless hours to make sure you eventually would get some sleep. You shared with him eventually that you’d see her everytime you tried to sleep. Met with the visual of your mother whenever your eyes would fall shut. 

He didn’t know what to do back then other than hold you and repeat that everything would be okay, he’d always be here for you.

“Can I sleep with you?” You ask against his chest, sliding your hands down to his waist. Johnny shivers under your touch, batting his eyes open.

“In my room?..”

“Please daddy, I don’t want to be alone tonight. I feel.. lonely.” 

Between fighting off how exhausted he is and the pathetic sad look on your face, he sighs. Losing the ability to keep his back straight and shoulders broad. He rubs up and down your spine and nods. “I can sleep on the floor.”

The look on your face morphs in less than a second, from distressed to furious. You push away, quickly wiping at your wet eyes. “Actually, it’s okay. I’m being dramatic.”

“Hu—what?” Johnny grabs at the door frame to stand up straight. Shaking his head to be more alert.

“You need to sleep good tonight, you have work tomorrow.” Tight lipped, you force a smile and take a few steps back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

—————————————-

“What are you doing here?” Wiping a cloth down his chest, the tall blond cleans the stains of oil and dirt. Mixing his sweat with the mess that working on his car has created on his long torso. He squints at you standing by the end of his driveway, the sun going down behind you making it harder for him to really get a good look at you.

Such a shame that he can’t appreciate the cute summer dress you planned just for today, how you spent over an hour doing your hair, the new lipgloss you used to make your lips shine and pop. 

“Didn’t your daddy tell you to stay away from me?” Jungwoo smirks, tossing the used towel on top of the hood of his car.

“Wanted to see your pretty car, you’ve been working so hard on it all week.” You say flirtatiously, moving closer to hug the driver door. Leaned against his classic Cadillac like a vixen straight out of a model car show. 

“My pretty car,” he chuckles, stretching his arms up to show off how defined his stomach muscles are. “You mean my pristine mint condition 1959 series 62 cherry red Cadillac?”

“Yeah, that.” Rolling your eyes with a smile, you round the car to poke his navel. “When are you taking me out?”

“You’re hilarious.” Jungwoo shoves your hand away, nodding his chin to your house down the street. “What? Daddy’s on duty or something?”

“Who cares.”

“Last time he saw you around me, he waved handcuffs in my face and told me to keep my distance if I don’t want to wake up with my car impounded.” Grabbing onto your wrist, lifts an eyebrow. “You might have some corruption kink, but no pussy is worth losing my car over.”

“I’d give you more than just my pussy.” You lie, scooting back to press your ass against the hood of his car. “Come on, he’s out of town. Now’s probably one of our only chances.”

Jungwoo grins, stroking up your lotioned smooth calves to your knees. “When’s he come back?”

“Late tomorrow, but we can’t do anything at my place.. he has security cameras.”

“That’s not a problem.” Jungwoo shrugs, pushing your thighs open. “That why you came over here all pretty? Smelling all nice for me.”

“We can go out to the hills, I know you just moved out here but it’s pretty common.” Pushing your thighs open more, you gather your dress to show off your pretty baby pink lace panties. Uncomfortable as hell, but they spark his interests, caressing up your inner thighs softly with a hum. “Everyone goes out to Agora to fuck..”

“Yeah? To fuck?” 

Your step-dad had complained about how rundown your neighborhood had become in the last few years. Allowing any old trash to move in. He certainly was not a fan of your newest neighbor Jungwoo Kim, rolling down the street with his obnoxiously loud engine revving up loud enough to shake each house he drove by. Johnny wouldn’t stop complaining about him for the rest of that day, throwing out comments to you that it’d be best if you avoid ‘men like that’. If only he had any idea that all you wanted after that was to do the complete opposite.

“Fine, I gotta take a quick shower.” Licking at his lips, he swipes a thumb over your clothed slit. “Come by to get you in an hour.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

—————————————-

“So, Agora Hills? I thought shit like this only existed in stupid sitcoms.” Jungwoo laughs, setting his car in park at the top of the hill overlooking the entire town. 

That’s the point, someone decided to claim this large space of land up on this hill as a place to lose your virginity. To enter adulthood, to check off the right of passage that changes one from sexually inexperienced to a lush. It’s been known as the spot for as long as you can remember, that’s the only reason Johnny’s even aware of what takes place up here.

He used to venture with different girls up to Agora Hills throughout his high school and college years. He can’t really blame you for doing the same, it’s simply the way things go here.

“It’s nice up here.” You smile, peering out of the front windshield at the city lights that burn bright from this high. The greenery that creates more shadows in the dark. The starry sky dimly lighting up the area around you. “The energies different, right?”

Jungwoo bites on his bottom lip, leaning over the front seat of his car with ease since the old model has nothing to stop him from getting closer to you. He drapes an arm around your shoulder, presses in to drag his nose down your cheek. “It’d be nicer if we were fucking.”

Plush lips find yours, using his tongue right away to lick between and garner access inside of your mouth. Freshly washed up after working on his car all day, he wafts the aroma of body wash and clean soap smell around you. Minty tongue still carrying traces of mouthwash. Jungwoo’s not interested in wasting time or getting to know you. Only in one way really.

Johnny was right to tell you to keep your distance from men like him. That’s why you had to go for him. In less than a minute he’s already swiping between your thighs, cupping over your lace covered mound. Shoving his tongue deep inside of your mouth with more confidence and aggression than Jaemin and Jeno had initially. 

He’s older(25 to be exact), Johnny hates that. His car is absurdly noisy, Johnny hates that. He blasts music loud enough to wake up the entire neighborhood early in the morning every weekend, Johnny really fucking hates that.

“Jungwoo,” you moan softly, pushing at his chest. “S-slow down a little.”

“Pft, come on. Don’t give me that shit, you’ve been teasing me for weeks.” He mutters against your lips, biting on your lower one to let you know how annoyed he is. 

“Please, I’m—I’m a virgin.” You whisper feebly. 

“What??” Jungwoo pulls back, ragged and out of breath. Lips all pink and swollen from kissing you roughly. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“N-no, my step-dad’s really protective..”

“The cop.”

“Mhmm..”

Shaking off an annoyed laugh, he rubs the top of your thigh closest to him. “I hate using condoms. Not gonna fuck you with one your first time either if you’re expecting some kind of princess treatment from me.”

“I don’t..” 

But you also have no intention to actually lose your virginity in the front seat of his Cadillac. Not when you know your step-father started his rounds a little over an hour ago. From your estimation, he’ll be on his way up the hill in no less than 15-20 minutes. If finding you with the neighbor he can’t fucking stand doesn’t break him, then maybe it’s time to give up.

“You ever touch yourself?” Jungwoo asks, interrupting your thoughts. Gripping the hem of your dress before dragging it up and off of your body. He reaches between your legs again, rushing to scoop your cunt with the entirety of his large palm. Digging the heel of it against your covered clit. “Like this?”

“Unghh..” you nod slowly, grinding against the pressure. 

“Tell me more.” Jungwoo’s nose flicks against your chin. Applying pressure down on your clit. “What turns you on? I want you dripping wet.”

Your step-father, Johnny. Unbuttoning his uniform. Sat stressed out at the kitchen island with his head hung between his shoulders, eyebrows furrowed together. The way he looks fresh out of the shower when he doesn’t know that you’re watching him. Droplets of water cling to his smooth bare skin, the tattoo on his bicep rippling with each movement, the pink blotches sprinkled across his back and chest from using boiling hot water. 

Johnny’s always on your mind when you touch yourself. He’s the first thing you see when you shut your eyes to fall asleep. He’s the first face you envision when you wake up and rub your eyes, sighing and whimpering to yourself. How he could be one room away and still so far drove you crazier by the minute. Creating more outlandish scenarios in your head as hours went by throughout your day and he’d be hard at work protecting the streets.

It may seem sick to some but your step-father has always been a man you could admire. He never failed you, even now when he should punish you, lock you up with no access to your phone- he doesn’t. He loves you too much to make you suffer anymore than you already have. Do you deserve his patience?

Jungwoo’s teeth nip at your cheek, shoving his hand inside of your panties when you fail to answer with a dazed look in your eyes.

“Y-you,” you mumble, stroking down his forearm to his wrist. “Older guys like you.”

It’s not a complete lie. Most of your wet dreams consisted of your step-father reminding you of how much older he is than you. How much bigger he is than you. How wrong this is. What a disappointment your mother would deem you. She’d be so upset with you, exploiting yourself like this just for your step-fathers attention. She didn’t raise you to be this way, but she’s not here anymore. You only have Johnny now, his presence and existence in your life. Nothing more, nothing less.

But you need all of him. You want it all.

“Slut.” Jungwoo sucks at his bottom lip, pinching your clit between two of his digits. “Only eighteen?”

“Mhm..”

A sadistic smile grows on his face, sliding two digits lower between your folds. “And a virgin, fuck. I can’t remember the last time I fucked a virgin.”

and he still won’t remember after this, judging by the time.. your step-dad will be here soon. At least you hope he will be…

Tips of rough calloused fingers tap against your tight hole, sucking in a deep breath as he adds a little pressure. “Fuck.. you’re so small.”

Licking down your cheek, he nibbles his way to your jawline. Teeth dragging and layering kisses down to your chin. “Messy as fuck, virgin cunt soiling through my car I bet. Wanna eat you out, bet you taste so good.”

Blood rushes to your ears, firmly shutting your eyes and slumping deeper into his passenger seat. “Anyone ever ate out your tight pussy before, angel?”

Jungwoo’s tongue flicks out, lapping up your chin to your mouth. Swallowing the moaned muffled ‘no’ you let out.

“I get to do the honors.” He trails off, prodding at your sensitive hole before sliding his hand free. “Come here.” Grabbing onto your hips, he manhandles you into a better position. Back leaned against the passenger door, cupping under your thigh with a large hand to pull you apart. “Open your pretty cunt for me just like this.” He huffs breathily, gently placing the back of your calf onto the seat. Obscenely sprawled out with your other leg on the car’s floor still.

Not bothering to pull off your panties, he shoves them to one side. Quietly whistling between his pink lips, he drags a thumb down the center of your parted open folds. “Fuck, you’re really..” his head shakes, bending in closer to gawk at your cunt up close. The dim light entering the car makes your arousal appear more as a glossy coat on your thighs. Glistening under the bright lit moonlight. “So wet. Can probably make you squirt so easily.”

Squirt? You think you mutter, dragging the back of your head against the car window. 

A gruff sound leaves his lips, lowering his mouth to your pussy without another second to waste. His tongue pokes out, gently tracing between your wet folds. Teasing side to side until your hips squirm and he lets out a pleased rumble. “Fuck, you taste better than a dream.” He gasps, eyes rolling up to meet yours from the angle he’s at. 

Dropping his mouth back down, he keeps his gaze fixated on your. Sharp eyes lazily hooded, pressing firmer licks between your pussy folds. Rolling the muscle of his tongue up and over your swollen clit. He teases there until your toes curl, reaching your hands out toward him helplessly in search of something to grab onto. 

The thick width of his tongue drags down, laps at your entrance. Testing the stretch with the tip of his tongue pushing inside with a vibrating groan that has you reaching for his hair.

It’s too much after edging yourself for hours to the thought of your step-father today. After sneaking into his bedroom as he showered to lick at his gun, sucking at it before shoving the barrel inside of your hole while Johnny jerked himself off in the shower. 

“F-fuck, I’m—I’m cu—“

Gravel. Tires skidding. A harsh pull of a car brake. Bright lights and a loud clash from a door slamming. He’s here.

The knock at Jungwoo’s car window is incessant, rapid and angry. Ripping himself off of you, he loudly curses, smearing the back of his hand across his lips before yelling for your step-father to stop out of fear that he’ll shatter the glass. “God fucking damnit.”

Rolling it down manually with renowned speed and a frightful gaze, he locks eyes with Johnny’s thinned out furious ones. Sinking down and reaching inside of the car to grab his neck with one large hand. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing boy?!”

Jungwoo squeals, eyes bulging out of shock and fear. He slaps at Johnny’s wrist, trying to call for your help.

“Daddy! Let go of him!” You shriek, grabbing your dress to hold against yourself. Trembling at the sight of your step-father in this state. He’s never looked so angry, terrifying really..

“Get out of this car. Right now.” He says sternly, burning into you with a laser focused look in his eyes. “Now.”

His demanding tone has you racing to reach the passenger door, not even bothering to get your dress back on before running over to where he still stands hunched over with an unyielding chokehold on Jungwoo’s throat. “Daddy, please! Please stop! Let go of him!”

Wrapping your arms around his bicep, you try to pull. Failing to make him budge and losing your footing when he stands up abruptly. “You, right there.” He points to the hood of the car, reaching for his back pocket to retrieve a pair of handcuffs.

“I told you I’d be on your ass if you ever came near my daughter.” He sneers at Jungwoo, grabbing his arm by the car door. He drags the younger’s wrist to the seatbelt, latching the handcuff shut to trap him to his driver seat. “And you.”

Turning toward you, he points to the hood again. Grabbing your shoulders to spin you around and bend you over, chest pressed flat to the car hood.

“Daddy!” You squeak, breath caught in your throat.

“Don’t.” He growls, slotting his hips to your bottom to keep you in place. Using one large powerful hand to lock your wrists together against your lower back. The feeling of his big warm body sends your mind into a frenzy, pressing your cheek down on the car as a whimper slips free and you meet Jungwoo’s petrified gaze through the windshield. “What did I tell you about the Kim boy down the street?” Johnny asks, controlling the anger in his tone.

“T-to—stay—away from h-him,” you whine, slamming your eyes shut. “T-too old for me.”

“But you like them older, right?” Weight drops down on your back. Heavy and crushing, pressing his hot mouth to your ear. “You love to disobey me, why is that?”

“N-no daddy..”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” He bites, teeth snapping down loudly. The dominant tone melting you down, struggling to breathe with his chest on your back, the full weight of his groin shoved against your ass. “What happened to being a good little girl?”

“I-I—I—“ speechless is what you are. Not processing one single clear thought under him. The cool car hood encasing night air keeps you sane enough to stop losing your mind to the heat taking over your body. This isn’t really happening, your step-father.. he’d never act this way. Unless you finally succeeded, you got your wish, you broke him down..

“Tell me the truth, you’ve been a bad girl.” His free hand snakes to your throat. Knocking the breath out of your chest as his palm lays flat and everything around you reminds you of how much fucking bigger he is than you. How much older, stronger, more powerful he is. It’s every horny dream that’s ever interrupted your sleep, but so real, so fucking real. “That’s what you want to be now? Daddy’s bad little girl.”

Oh fuck. This can’t be really happening.

“N-no, daddy’s good girl.” You cry, turning your head enough to look at him from the corner of your eye. “Your g-good girl.”

“It’s my fault. I gave you too much. Let you think you could do whatever the fuck you wanted without any repercussions.” The bridge of his nose presses to your cheekbone. Electric eyes filled with flames locked on yours. “Need to put you back in your place, don’t I sweetheart?”

Tears dribble from your eyes beyond your comprehension. Falling down a dark hole without escape, you nod slowly, whimpering through your choked sobs. “Daddy.”

“I know, baby.” Soft lips drag down your cheek, firmly pressing a kiss at the corner of your mouth. 

Everything about him feels so dizzying, knowing your head would roll off of your neck if he wasn’t choking your throat right now. His fingers trail up to your chin, turning your face to look at Jungwoo’s large eyes reflected in the windshield. “You’re better than this.”

“I’m not, I’m bad. I need to be fixed.. corrected.” You manage to whine, innocently blinking over your shoulder without a care in the world for the man you manipulated into this situation. They’ve all been pawns in your game, your step-father included. All to get what your heart and body desires. “Punish me daddy!”

Johnny’s soft eyes darken in an instant, coated by a shadowed film covering his iris. His nostrils flare, laying all of his large size on top of you. “Why are you asking this of me?”

“B-because, I love you.” You sob, bouncing your lower half against him. “I love you daddy, so much!”

The last bit of fight he had left exits his lips with his next breath. Slowly dropping his eyes shut as he stays still and lets the sensation of your ass grinding back on his cock wash over him. He tried to deny, tried to ignore, berated himself for allowing such indecent thoughts about his step-daughter to enter his mind.

Ever since your behavior became more concerning, he had to set up hidden cameras around the house. He was worried, that’s all. Worried of what harm you could cause yourself when left alone with your sadness and thoughts. He wanted to tell you, he did, but it was only for your own good. And for the most part he felt at ease while he patrolled and left you alone at home. You mostly slept, laid around, occasionally made yourself food. He saw when you’d sneak around.. steal his clothing, but that never bothered him.

Today though, what he saw today, only an hour ago as he fast forwarded through the footage documented today. He saw you on his bed, the one he shared with your mother once. Tracing your fingers along his work uniform, picking up his gun to pose with in the mirror. All normal, until it wasn’t.

“What did you do with my gun?” He asks slowly, shoving your hair away to one side. “Tell me.”

Color drains from your face, wide eyes peering up at him. “I—I—“

“Why did you do it?” He continues to question, having to swallow to calm his dry throat. “What’s gotten into you sweetie? What do I need to do to fix this? To fix you?”

What has gotten into you? Depression, malignant fantasies, emptiness. Really, that's it, emptiness. Every part of you feels so empty, so hollow, unalive. The only time a shred of life shows itself is when you see Johnny, when you’re with him, when he smiles at you, when he touches you, when he wraps you up in his large arms. “Because I love you.”

One solo tear trails down his cheek, slowly nodding as he pulls you up and wraps around your waist from behind. Soft full lips press to your cheek, the lips you crave and lose your mind over. Safety, that’s what he is. Your step-father, he’s the refuge you pray for, the comfort you can’t find anywhere no matter how hard you search. “If you love me, you’ll stop doing this.” His voice cracks, shaking as he finds your watery eyes.

“And if you love me,” your lip trembles, teeth chattering. “You’ll love me.”

If there is a God, he’ll never forgive him.

Strong working hands, dangerous hands that have handled firearms for years, that have locked up wrong doers, that have nurtured and fought hard for you; strong hands squeeze your waist. Slowly turning you around to face him. “I want to take you home.”

“No daddy, I want you, here.”

Here at Agora Hills, the exact place you have been luring him to night after night. “Here?” He questions almost pathetically, rubbing down your bare stomach to the frilly material of your panties. His eyes slide over to Jungwoo’s near haunted face, jaw hung open so wide he can see all the way to the back of his throat where his tonsils hang. Surely he’ll tell everyone in the neighborhood about what he’s witnessed here tonight. May as well make it a good story. 

“Here.” Johnny repeats more assured, nodding to the hood of your neighbor’s ridiculous car. “Lift your legs up sweetie.”

The backseat of his patrol vehicle had definitely been the layout for your fantasy, skittish as you allow him to mount you onto Jungwoo’s car and the hood gives under your weight. Denting your knees in place, echoing a pitiful cry from inside of the car. Johnny’s hold around your stomach tightens, resting your back to his chest so that your legs can bend open in front of the windshield. “You let this idiot touch you baby?” 

“Y-yes..” you admit, flushing from head to toe as you meet your neighbor’s miserable expression. He really really had pissed off your daddy..

“You let him touch you here?” Longer fingers drag across the top of your lace panties. Biting down on his lip with his chin perched over your shoulder. He slaps your trembling inner thighs, reaching lower to drag a thumb down the seam of your panties stretched against labia folds. “Let anyone touch you, don’t you?”

“N-no daddy..”

“Don’t lie to me.” Johnny’s usual soft spoken voice is long gone. Falling into a deeper and raspier speech as he skirts around your panties. Tapping the tip of his nose against your cheek. “No more, you let anyone touch you again and daddy will make you regret it.”

Fuck. Shivers explode down your spine, frantically nodding as he suddenly rips your soaked underwear to one side. Exposing your blood engorged cunt to the cool night air, pornographically spread open on the hood of some classic automobile. “N-never!”

“That’s right.” He hisses, eyebrows furrowed, leaning into your back more until you fold in and can’t lift your neck. Forced into a nearly pretzeled position with no choice but to watch as his large hand lowers past your navel and he splits open your pussy folds. “Shaved yourself all pretty, I know that’s not for him.”

Erupting with a fresh batch of tears, you struggle to shake your head. Rambling a spatter of ‘nonono’ because nothing has ever been for anyone else. Only for your step-father, only for him.

It’s beyond painful how desperate you sound, losing your sight through wads of tears that won’t stop filling up your eyes. “What should I do baby? Your panties are so wet.” He tsks, tugging the worn down material bunched up in his fist even harder. Ripping a sound of lace shredding through the night air. “Want me to touch your little pussy? To use your cunt in front of your random boy toy?”

“Daddy, p-please!” He’s driving you crazy. Slamming your socked feet against the car hood, you let out the most feral of moans. Jerking your hips up with a shout

“Want me to touch you here?” Johnny murmurs, sounding on the brink of insanity himself. Tiptoeing two fingers down your cunt to your opening, spewing slick out onto his digits. “To shove them deep inside of you?”

A moment of cold silence rinses down on you, craning your neck back against his chest to look at him. Nuzzling and nodding against his throat, you whimper feebly, placing a scolding kiss on his Adam’s apple. “Please daddy, p-please fuck me.”

Shit, that’s not what Johnny expected to ever hear. The beating of his heart goes wild, throbbing its way up to his brain, filling his ears full of static noise. He’s panting heavily, winding down to your entrance in search of what can only be wonderland. Fully hunched over you, he watches with intent as the pads of his digits push against the tightness of your hole. Hissing between his teeth at the resistance he’s met with. 

There’s no way you’re still this tight if you really let the neighbor boy fuck you. How tiny can his dick be? Johnny grimaces, pushing in past the snap of skin that sucks around his fingers. Propelling spikes of adrenaline and hunger through him that scream to go harder, faster, deeper. The bend in your knees goes limp, kicking out against the car windshield, garnering another shattered cry from inside of the vehicle. 

Entranced by how you squeeze around two of his digits, your step-father stabs them deeper inside. Thrusting them in harder only to hear your cunts wet echoes splatter around his hand onto the hood of Jungwoo’s car.

“Daddy!” Exhaling something between a moan and a cry, you pant heavily under his upper body. Convulsing and shaking into him, forced to take the two long fingers jabbing in and out of you at a rapid speed. He flicks at your swollen clit, in disbelief at the way your pussy hasn’t stopped spasming since he started fucking past your holes squeeze. 

“You're so close, princess.” He huffs raggedly. Snapping his fingers in and out at a blinding pace. Pumping more wetness to stream out onto the hood of the car. The teasing flicks at your clit turn furious. Pinching your stuff bud between his thumb and pointer finger, tweak your raging nerves into a frenzy. Shots of electricity burn through your limbs, curling your toes in with a scream out to the night sky. 

It’s hot and blinding, punching your chest with cold all at once. The force of your orgasm pushes against his fingers, halting Johnny’s motions as a powerful rush of clear liquid rips out around his digits and your pussy walls grip around him. The thought of his cock filling you up next has him pulling out. Slapping his hand down to rub at your clit furiously, concentrated and focused as he watches in awe. The squirting stream shoots out harder, raining down on the car’s windshield.

“Holy shit.” Jungwoo cries out from inside, struggling to breathe.

“Knew you could do it.” Your step-father praises, kissing the side of your sweaty forehead. “My good girl.”

Johnny does the unthinkable, swiping your drenched cunt before lifting his hand up, gaze on yours with his tongue lapping at his fingers. “Tastes so good.”

Just like heaven.

“D-daddy?” You sniffle, pouting your lips out toward him with the largest saddest eyes he’s ever seen. Bloodshot, cheeks stained with tears the same exact way they were when your mother died.

A kiss, a kiss is what you beg for. A kiss from your daddy.

And Johnny, how could he ever deny you? How can he stop himself from scooping you up, wrapping your trembling thighs around his waist. Cupping your ass as he leans in and gives you one of the softest lightest kisses, leaving one on the tip of your cold nose after. He presses for more, a firmer kiss, longer contact. Rubbing your ass between his greedy hands, asking for entrance to your sinful mouth with his tongue. 

Denying you has never been an option. 

“D-daddy,” you cry between hot kisses. Overwhelmed by his dominant mouth, how easily he takes control. The suck around your tongue and lips ready to burst from how swollen they are. “Please, please fuck me. Want you to be my first, please.”

“First?” Stepping back, he looks over your naive expression. Your flushed cheeks, your beating chest, your hands trembling against your thighs. “First.”

You’re a virgin, an eighteen year old virgin. His step-daughter, pure, untouched, barely legal. Begging him to be your first.

If anyone should be your first, it’s him. He practically raised you, has the best interest in mind for you. He loves you.

“Show me.” Licking at his lips, he swallows hard. Throat clamoring for some saliva. “Show me your virgin pussy.”

And you do, you listen so well. Almost too perfectly as you place your feet flat to the car and grab your knees to hold them open. Your pretty lace panties ruined, blood-filled cunt pulsating at him. It’s a sight he hasn’t seen in years, virgin pussy. Hairless in all the right places, hole barely visible because of how fucking tight you are.

It’s wrong, he’s so big it’s going to hurt you so much. “Daddy.” But the way you whine for him. How you proudly sit there pumping your cunt at him. You need to be punished.

He wants to take you home, fuck you right on the same bed he took your mother on for years. Bend you into every position, make you scream all night until the neighbors make a fuss and turn their lights on at 3am. Nosey and curious, whispering about a murder taking place.

Wrapping you back up in his arms, he spares Jungwoo’s sobbing face one last look. Nodding with a smirk before turning around to his vehicle. At least he’d taken the SUV for patrol tonight, unbeknownst to himself of what would soon unravel. 

“You deserve the world baby.” He whispers, unlatching the back door open to climb inside with you. It’s spacious enough, thankfully, because despite how badly he needs to get you home, he needs to know how you feel even more. Fighting with each step to his cop car with his swollen sack, he’s proud of himself for not turning you over and taking you on that asshole’s car. “And daddy’s going to give it to you.”

Writhing against his back seat, you lay flat and unhook your bra, throwing it to the ground. “You’re so so pure.” He almost growls, unbuckling the large metal buckle of his belt. Blazed eyes dragging down your body, your pinched waist, round hips, panties barely holding on for life. “So beautiful and good to me.” He nods, shaking his shoulders free from his holster. Working to unbutton his long sleeved uniform shirt. “So good for me, my angel.”

Johnny means every word. You’ve never done wrong in his eyes, always his sweet little girl. Even now you’re giving him everything, all of you. An angel sent to take care of him through his misery. 

Getting down to his constricting work slacks, he situates himself between your thighs. Having to hunched in due to the shirt ceiling height. The touch of your flesh beneath his fingertips heats up like a furnace. “Your pussy, your virgin cunt..”

Eyes drunk on nothing but need, lust, desire, love stare up at him. Continuously rolling tears down your glowing cheeks. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, never having had sex.. you just want him.

“Who’s pussy is this?” He asks brazenly, surprising himself. Caressing the insides of your knees and he peers down at your cunt that seems to have a heartbeat of its own. “Who’s is it, baby girl?”

“Your!” You cough, falling into a mewl. Moaning lewdly as he nods above you, broad and large. Slinking his hands to his zipper to slowly glide down. 

“Yeah,” Johnny sucks in a deep breath, nodding slowly. Shoving his pants and briefs down past the middle of his thighs. “After I fuck this pussy, no one elses but mine.”

“Daddy’s pussy.” You moan, legs spread out for him. Grabbing your panties to tug at roughly. “Only yours.”

A glob of wet arousal pulses from your hole as you say it, and it’s enough to drop his body forward. To circle the base of his cock with one of his sweaty hands, eyes on yours. The way your cunt drips, he can only hope you’ll feel nothing but pleasure. Slapping the thick girth of his meat against your wet pussy, he hisses. Having to hold himself up with one arm bracketed by your head so that he can look down at his length covering your center. “This might hurt, baby.”

“P-please.” Make it hurt. That’s all that Johnny can hear. Your pleads for punishment, for pain, for something to heal and fill up your empty soul.

The head of his cock feels the true warmth of your cunt, your tight suffocating grip, wrapping around him like a perfect cock sleeve. 

And it’s right, it’s so right. Rolling his eyes shut, groaning as he feeds you more of his size despite your cries. The scrabbling small hands scratching his chest, your clinking teeth and sniffles. He fits the entirety of his cock inside of your pussy. Mesmerized by how fucking wet you are, wettest cunt he’s ever fucked. 

Sinking into the hilt, he meets obstruction. Mouth hung open panting heavily on top of you. He can’t take his eyes off of it, how his cock disappears inside of you, how connected you both are right now. Creeping an angry groan out of him, curling up his spine as his balls smack against your rim.

“My angel, my baby.” He pants harshly. Using his flexed abdomen muscles to hold himself up and slide both of his hands beneath your neck. “Look at us, baby.”

Johnny’s strong hands hold your head up off of the backseat, folding you in as they wrap around your neck and squeeze. The crushing weight on your throat chokes your breath, wide eyed as you look down at what he wants you to see. Fucking into you with brutal determination when he finds your gaze where he wants it to be. His glossy wet cock, pummeling in and out of you as if you’re a pro at this. 

Your cunts just too good, sucking around him like nothing ever has. He draws in and out, plunging in madly. Pulling out to the tip only to slam back in and make you take, shape you to take his cock.

Creamy wetness splurges out around his size with each stroke. Spilling out beneath your ass, filling the vehicle with a splattering sound of your arousal. The smack of his balls on your ass, hips hitting the backs of your thighs. Coughed and gurgled moans, scratching at his forearms the more he tightens around your neck. “Daddy!”

Fuckfuckfuck, you’re driving him insane. Bonkers, off the walls, throwing his head back releasing the loudest pleasured moans. Each one making your pussy squeeze and grip around him tighter. He moans louder and louder, reminding you with each that you’re the best, so good and amazing for him. 

“Da-daddy—is—is—“ you splutter, jerked up and down under the force of his hips jackhammering into you. 

Johnny’s wild eyes meet yours, loosening on your throat to let you breathe easily. His pace never falters, pushing his cock through your kissing cunt. Through your delicious maddening heat, through the milking grip trying to make him cum. “Baby wants it even deeper, huh?”

“I-is—“ you mumble incoherently, squeezing your eyes to blink away tears. Fluttering open to find his. “M-my pussy—better t-than mommy’s?”

FUCK. 

Why would you say that?! Why would you ask him that?! Johnny can’t stop his hips from stuttering, slamming in and stilling. Filling your cunt with a hot load of cum, sticky and wet. Too much for your tiny little hole to handle. He’s never lost himself like this, never emptied his balls so fast. Never came too quickly.

“What’re you doing to me.” He whimpers, falling flat and heavy against your chest. Ragged breaths punch out of his lungs, practically vibrating on top of you. His cock twitching inside of your squeezing hole, not softening up for anything.

“Say that again.” He sighs, reaching to cup your face. Nose shoved against yours. “Say that again for me baby.”

The sad desperate tone he asks you in has your pussy squeezing around the wet gush of sperm and slick filling you up along with his fat cock. Losing your strength to hold your eyes open, you slowly fade. Heavy lidded and croaking. “I-is my pussy b-better than mommy’s?”

Johnny’s bulging biceps cage your head. Pressing a searing hot kiss on your saliva drenched lips. “So much better, my fucking angel. My fucking sweet angel with he best pussy, can’t get enough of you. Will never be enough, need all of you.”

Licking at the drool covering your chin and neck, he begins to grind his hips in circles. Stretching your cock to take him again and again. For as long as he can keep it up for you, he’ll keep fucking you. Fuck all the pain away with more punishment. 

“Daddy’s gonna mold your tight little pussy.” He grunts, sitting up to haul your legs up. Laying your limp limbs against your chest with no struggle. “So flexible.” 

Of course you are, a young eighteen year old girl, good for nothing but taking cock. “Want you only taking my cock from now on, no one else’s.”

“Y-yes daddy.” You whisper, throat burning from screaming and moaning. Face scrunched up trying to hold back your urge to cum again, too swollen between your thighs to squeeze any harder. “Only yours.”

“Such a good pussy. So fucking soft and wet.” Johnny thrusts in slowly a few times. Catching his breath before slamming down, circling his thick arms around your shoulders to completely fold you in. Suffocated by his masculine body wash scent filling your senses, his deep grunts, the deep set lines taking over his forehead with every exerted movement. 

Furious thrusts only build and build to a violent speed, aided by the endless stream of slick lubricating his cock. He can’t stop fucking you, can’t make himself stop.

“Daddy, daddy!” It’s all you can say, repeat and scream. Too lost in your pleasure, the numbness coursing through you, your blacked out mind that needed this. Needed to feel whole to feel empty again, to relax your brain and scorch endless amounts of endorphins through your system. 

“Come on princess, let me feel how good that pussy cums.” He growls, chasing your orgasm for you. Grunting and fucking through your pulsing heat, hot slick pussy walls gripping him so tight. 

“A-ahh!” The drag of his length pauses, fluttering his eyes open. Letting out a cracked howl as you cum. Tossing his head back to fully take in how clench around him akin to a chokehold. Wailing and whimpering beneath him as streams of hot clear liquid shoot onto his pelvis. Too limp and out of it to break free from his position even through your writhing. Your step-father suffers through it, the best suffering he’s ever experienced. Biting down on his lip with a deep breath as he curses and fucks through the last seconds of your climax. 

He tries to stave off his release, tries to stop himself from finishing too fast again, but you’re just too good. Never letting his dick breathe with the way you milk his cock.

“Fuck shit, f—fuck. G-gonna cum.” He says between clenched teeth. Groaning from the back of his throat, digging his fingers into your thighs hard enough to bruise. “Take all of my cum baby, it’s all for you.”

All of it for you, from now on he won’t go a day without spilling himself empty inside of your pussy. Fucking his seed deep inside, painting your cervix without any concern of you getting pregnant. You belong to him now.

“Fuck that’s it.” He grits, groaning loudly with shaking thighs barely holding him up. Cock sheathed deep inside of you painting your cervix in strings of white hot cum. “Take all of it, my good girl.”

His good girl, you hum quietly. Using your last bit of energy to clamp your cunt around him and snatch every last bit of cum for your greedy hole. 

The night feels endless in the backseat of his patrol car atop of Agora Hills. Just the two of you, lost in each other’s bodies, fucking your pain and anger away. 

“Let’s get you home.” He finally finds the willpower to say after filling you up two more times. Finding a blanket in the trunk to wrap around you. “It’s too late, way past your curfew.”

The comment brings a lazy smile to both of your faces. Curling into his side for comfort.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, princess.” He sighs, rubbing at his forehead to ease whatever anxious thoughts attempt to enter now that the haze of lust and sex has cooled down.

“I love you.” 

Johnny frowns, turning to cuddle against your side. His forehead presses against your shoulder, placing a light kiss on your collarbone. “Daddy loves you more.”

—————————————-

[deerspherestudios]

Hii, sorry if there is something that is not well understood, I'm using a translator jej [My native language is Spanish]. I just wanted to say that I love everything about the game, Mychael is a character that really grabs you in a very nice way. I'm also very happy to know that I'm not the only one who likes things to go slowly, that it first starts with small feelings until it reaches a dark obsession [I really love it!] On the other hand, I hope there's no problem with me using Mychael as a little inspiration to create a character I'm working with to create a story. Attached is a little drawing I did, I love his work! ᐢᗜᐢ

Aaa thank you so much!! The drawing is lovely, I love your character; they're so cute!!!! <3 Good luck with your story!!

In terms of yan VNs, I feel like there's more variety these days (though I haven't explored any recent yandere visual novels in a while; they keep popping up like mushrooms! /j) but I'm happy the slow burn aspect in MO is something people enjoy!

[mononijikayu]

i have love and dreams too — gojo satoru.

Yuji looked down at his hands, feeling a strange sense of guilt. “Do you really think… you can never have that life you want?” Satoru didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed his eyes, letting the wind ruffle his silver hair. For a moment, he was just Satoru—not the strongest, not the invincible sorcerer, but a man burdened by the life he had to lead. “I don’t know, Yuji……” he said quietly, almost to himself. “But I like to dream that maybe, someday… we could all disappear. And live. Just live.  Just me, my wife, Megumi, Tsumiki, Satoshi… away from everything. Living in peace.”

WARNING/S: spoilers for chapter 271 of jjk (spoilers at your behest), domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

WORDS: 6.8k words.

NOTE: i rush wrote this at uni, at the restaurant i was at and then a car on the way back and forth from uni and home. i just started crying profusely because i hated how jjk ended. and i hated that panel with satoru and yuji because i just kept crying. i cant believe this is the end, but i cant believe even more that this is what satoru had to deal with. this is the most rushed end and the saddest end.

i wish gege had decided to take a break and decided to take his time. but alas this is not my story. still, id like to make more for satoru. ones where he'd be so loved. genmei (you) and satoru will always be happy in whatever life you have, that i write. for bitter or for worse. even in death. smiling is all there will be. even with tears.

anyway, i hope you bear with me, for i am very emotional. thank you for understanding this situation. i love you all, i'll see you soon <3

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GOJO SATORU IS EXHAUSTED. But he thinks that there is no use to sleep. He knows he cannot. The room was bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, the light too dim to chase away the shadows that lingered in every corner, just like the uncertainty that hung between you and Satoru.

He sat across from you on the edge of the bed, his usual carefree demeanor gone, replaced by a solemn stillness that felt out of place on him. His eyes, usually so vibrant and mischievous, were tired tonight, the weight of tomorrow pulling down his every breath.

"You don’t have to do this." Your voice came out in a whisper, the words heavy with a desperation you’d been trying to suppress.

Satoru didn’t answer right away. His gaze was locked on the floor, and for a moment, you wondered if he was even listening. But then he looked up, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours, and there was something in them you rarely saw—fear.

"It’s not like I have a choice," he murmured, his voice strained. "You know that."

You did. And that made it worse. He was the strongest, after all. If anyone had to stand against Sukuna, it was him. But the weight of those expectations had never felt heavier than it did now, with the reality of the fight looming closer with every passing second.

"I hate this, Satoru." you confessed, your voice trembling. "I hate that it always comes down to you, that you’re the one who has to bear this."

Satoru smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He stood and crossed the small space between you, kneeling in front of you, his hands gently resting on your knees. His touch was warm, grounding, but it did nothing to quell the storm raging inside you.

"Hey." he said softly, lifting your chin so you’d look at him. "I know it’s not fair. But it’s what I have to do."

You shook your head, biting back the tears that threatened to spill. "But what if—" The words caught in your throat, the question too painful to finish.

Satoru’s thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn’t even realize had fallen. "Don’t think about that," he whispered, his voice as soft as the night air outside. "Not tonight."

"But how can I not?" you shot back, your frustration breaking through. "How can I pretend that everything will be fine when I know you’re going to face him? When I know there’s a chance that—"

He silenced you with a kiss, his lips gentle but firm, grounding you in the present, in this moment. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

"I’ll come back to you," he promised, but even he couldn’t hide the uncertainty in his voice. “To you and Satoshi. And… I’ll bring Megumi and Tsumiki back. We’ll be a family again, like we used to be.”

It was the way he said it—so sure, so certain—that made it all the more unbearable. As if speaking it aloud would somehow make it true, would make the universe bend to his will the same way he bent the forces of space and time. But you knew better now, didn’t you? You’ve always known. Satoru Gojo, the man who was too powerful to fail, too stubborn to admit defeat, could never stop lying—not to you, not to himself. He believed in his own invincibility, as if his strength alone could rewrite the world.

But the world doesn’t work that way.

And you think then, that your husband has always been a liar.

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve heard those words, promises wrapped in silk and carelessness, the way they tumbled off his tongue so casually. It was as though the act of saying it was enough for him, as though the truth could be commanded with just his voice. And maybe for a long time, it was.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the man who could bend the world to his whims and yet still—he was human. And humans lie. Sometimes because they have to, sometimes because the lie feels better than the truth.

But tonight, in the quiet hours before dawn, the weight of his words pressed down harder than ever. We’ll be a family again, like we used to be. You wanted to scream at him, to shake him, to make him stop speaking as if the world was something he could fix with his bare hands. Megumi was gone, taken by darkness, by fate, and Tsumiki…Tsumiki was as good as lost to you both. Even if Satoru came back, even if he somehow survived this fight with Sukuna, the cracks in your family couldn’t simply be patched over like they had never existed.

You bit your lip, tasting the bitterness of unshed tears.

"You always say that," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the soft hum of the night. "But you don’t know this time, do you?"

His gaze faltered, the usual gleam in his eyes dimming for a fraction of a second. It was a flicker of something too vulnerable, too raw—something he rarely let anyone see. It was the truth that lingered behind his endless bravado, the truth that no amount of strength could hide: he didn’t know if he could win this time.

And you had known it all along.

Satoru had always come back to you. Bruised, battered, bleeding—but alive. He would stumble through the door with that infuriating grin, wipe the blood off his face with the back of his hand, and act like nothing had ever been in doubt. But this time was different. This wasn’t just another battle against curses or enemies who fell beneath his overwhelming strength. This was Sukuna.

"I’ll bring Megumi and Tsumiki back," he had said, as if they were just lost children in the woods, waiting for him to lead them home. But Megumi had slipped beyond reach, swallowed by the very darkness Satoru had spent his life fighting. How could he promise to bring him back when he could barely keep the pieces of himself together?

"You can’t save everyone, Satoru," you whispered, your heart breaking as you said it aloud, the truth as bitter as the lie was sweet. "Not even with all your power."

His hand tightened around yours, his grip almost too strong, as if holding onto you could somehow anchor him to the world, to the promise he so desperately wanted to believe. "I have to try," he murmured, his voice rough, as if the words themselves were painful to speak. "For you. For Satoshi. For them."

Satoshi. Your son. His name hung in the air like a thread between you, a fragile tether that held what little remained of your family together. You could see it in Satoru’s eyes—the fear of leaving his child without a father, the guilt of not being able to protect him from the storm that loomed over your lives. But you also saw the lie there, the same lie he told every time he went to war. The lie that he would come back unscathed, that he could shield all of you from the world’s cruelty just by being who he was.

But he couldn’t. Not this time.

"Satoru," you whispered, your voice breaking. "You don’t have to be everything for us. You don’t have to be invincible."

His eyes softened, and for a moment, just a moment, the mask slipped. He let you see the man beneath the legend, the man who was just as terrified as you were. "I’m not invincible," he admitted, the words barely audible. "But I can’t give up on them. I can’t give up on us."

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Even in his most vulnerable moments, even when the odds were impossibly stacked against him, Satoru Gojo refused to let go of hope. He clung to it as fiercely as he clung to you, because to do anything less would mean admitting that maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t strong enough.

And in that moment, you realized something: it wasn’t that your husband was a liar. It was that he couldn’t afford to tell the truth, because if he did, the weight of it might break him.

So, you let him hold onto his lie, let him believe in a future where you, Satoshi, Megumi, and Tsumiki could all be together again. Maybe it was kinder that way. For both of you.

As the night stretched on and the inevitable dawn crept closer, you pressed your face against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. For now, that was all you had—the warmth of him beside you, the sound of his heart still beating, the fragile hope that somehow, against all odds, he would come back to you.

And maybe, just maybe, the lie would come true.

“I always have, don’t I?” he added, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, that signature bravado surfacing in an attempt to reassure you. “I’ve always won the day. I’ll come back.”

Your husband’s bright eyes—those crystalline blue eyes that had seen so much, fought through so much—they betrayed him. Beneath that unwavering confidence, there was something else. Fear? Doubt? It was a crack in the façade of the invincible man you married, a truth too terrifying to speak aloud.

Your throat tightened as you met his gaze, the silence between you heavier than any words could be. He had always come back, hadn’t he? Through every impossible battle, every mission that should have left him broken or worse, he had somehow returned to you, grinning as if the world itself were a game only he knew how to win.

But that wasn’t the whole truth. The nights he returned bruised, bleeding, barely standing, those nights played in your mind like a broken record. He made light of it all, brushing off your worries with a laugh, a kiss, a flippant “I’m fine.” But those were lies too, weren’t they? Lies wrapped in love.

“Satoru,” you breathed, your voice unsteady, “you don’t have to say it.”

His smirk faltered, just for a second, and that brief flicker of vulnerability nearly undid you. He pulled you closer, his hand cradling the back of your neck, his touch tender but laced with desperation. "But I will come back," he insisted, his voice soft but firm. "I always do."

You wanted to believe him. You needed to. Because to imagine a world where he didn’t come back, where that promise wasn’t fulfilled, was a world too cruel to fathom. But tonight, as the shadow of Sukuna loomed larger than ever, the weight of that lie pressed down on you both. What if this time, his strength wasn’t enough?

“What if…” you started, but he silenced you with a finger pressed gently against your lips.

“No ‘what ifs,’” he whispered, though you both knew better than that. Satoru had lived his life defying fate, bending it to his will. But not even the strongest sorcerer could escape death forever.

His hand moved from your neck to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your face as if trying to memorize it, as if this moment might be his last chance. You could see the weight of the world in his eyes, the burden of being the one everyone relied on, the one expected to face the impossible—and win.

But for once, he wasn’t invincible to you. He was just a man, your husband, and for the first time, you saw the lie for what it was: his way of protecting you. Of protecting himself from the truth that this might be the one fight he couldn’t walk away from.

You placed your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his skin, and in that moment, you didn’t care about lies or truths, about promises or fears. You just wanted him here, now, with you. "Then stay with me a little longer," you whispered, your voice breaking.

Satoru closed his eyes, exhaling deeply, and nodded. "I’m here," he said, pulling you into his arms, his voice a soft, almost broken promise. "I’m here."

And for tonight, that would have to be enough.

The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, neither speaking, just holding onto each other as if by doing so, you could freeze time, stop the inevitable from coming. You memorized the feel of his hands on your skin, the warmth of his body against yours, the sound of his heartbeat under your palm. You clung to the moment as if it were your last.

As the night wore on, you both lay down, tangled in each other’s arms. Sleep didn’t come easily, and when it did, it was fitful, haunted by the looming specter of tomorrow. You held onto him tightly, afraid that if you let go, he would disappear into the darkness, never to return.

In the early hours before dawn, Satoru stirred, his arms tightening around you one last time. The weight of the night clung to both of you, thick and heavy, the silence between his breaths and your heart beats a fragile barrier against the coming storm.

You felt him shift beside you, his warmth pulling you closer, as if holding you tighter could keep the inevitable at bay for just a moment longer. His fingers traced gentle circles on your back, his touch familiar, grounding, but laced with an unspoken tension.

"I’ll be back, hm?" he whispered again, the words soft and lingering in the stillness. His voice, usually so sure, faltered at the edges, as though he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to comfort you.

He said it like a prayer, like repeating it enough times could bend fate, twist reality to make it true. But you knew better. You both did. Those words, though meant to soothe, carried the weight of all the times you’d heard them before, and the growing fear that this time might be different.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. The knot in your throat tightened, a lump of unspoken fears and uncried tears. There was too much to say, too much that couldn’t be put into words without breaking whatever fragile hope remained between you. If you spoke now, you might lose whatever composure you had left, and you needed to hold on to it, if only for his sake.

Instead, you pressed your face against his chest, your ear resting just above his heart. The steady, rhythmic beating echoed through your body, its cadence familiar and reassuring, a sound that had become synonymous with home.

It was the same heartbeat you’d fallen asleep to countless nights, the one you’d clung to after long missions, when he’d returned battered but smiling, and you’d held him just like this—like he was your anchor to the world.

But this time, it was different. You weren’t just seeking comfort; you were memorizing it. The sound, the feel of his chest rising and falling beneath your cheek, the warmth of his skin against yours. You were committing it all to memory, engraving it deep into your soul because, somewhere in the back of your mind, a quiet voice whispered that this might be the last time.

Each beat of his heart became a marker, a reminder of the moments you had shared, of all the laughter and love and quiet nights like this one. But now, it also carried the weight of what could be lost. The inevitability of tomorrow pressed against your chest, suffocating, as if time itself was slipping through your fingers.

You tighten your grip around him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, unwilling to let go, even as the sky outside began to lighten with the first traces of dawn. The sun was rising, and with it, the time for him to leave drew nearer.

Satoru’s hand moved to your hair, his fingers threading through it gently, soothingly. He kissed the top of your head, and though his touch was as tender as ever, there was a lingering sadness in it. He held you like he was trying to memorize you, too, like this was as much for him as it was for you. He didn’t say anything more, perhaps because he knew that no words would ease the ache that had settled between you, a chasm neither of you could cross.

As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the window, casting a soft, golden glow over the room, you felt him shift again, his breath hitching slightly as he prepared to rise. You wanted to beg him to stay, to forget about everything else, just for today. But you knew he couldn’t, and you wouldn’t ask that of him. He had a duty, a burden that he had carried for as long as you had known him. And no matter how much you wanted to keep him safe, you couldn’t shield him from what was coming.

When he finally moved to leave, your arms loosened around him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let go completely. Not yet. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment longer than he needed to, as if he, too, was trying to hold on to this last fragment of peace before it was shattered.

“I’ll be back.” he whispered once more, his breath warm against your skin.

This time, you didn’t respond because you couldn’t. Instead, you closed your eyes, letting the sound of his heartbeat linger in your memory, holding onto it as tightly as you held onto him. The door would close behind him soon, and with it, he would walk into the fight of his life, a battle that you both knew could be his last. But for now, in this fleeting moment before dawn, you let yourself believe in the lie, because the truth was too painful to bear.

And when he finally left, the door closing softly behind him, you were left alone in the silence, the echo of his promise lingering in the air, fragile and fleeting.

HE DOESN’T KNOW WHY, BUT HE JUST FELT LIKE TALKING. Quite unlike him, if he was being honest with himself.  But as Gojo Satoru sat beside Itadori Yuji, all he could think about was peace of mind. And to do that, he thinks he should talk.

Gojo Satoru could feel his usual smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, though today it felt more subdued. They had been talking for a while now, their conversation meandering from one thing to another. But beneath Satoru’s lighthearted tone, Yuji sensed something deeper. Something weighed heavy on his teacher’s mind.

“When something happens, I want you to be there for me, Yuji.” Satoru said suddenly, his eyes staring ahead. His voice was soft, but not weak—it carried the strength of someone who had lived with the knowledge that he had to bear the world on his shoulders. “I have love and dreams too, you know.”

Yuji blinked, surprised by the vulnerability in Satoru’s words. He wasn’t used to hearing his sensei talk like this, with a depth that seemed so different from his usual carefree attitude.

Satoru glanced at Yuji, his smile widening slightly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But you know, one day, everyone will grow up and leave me behind, right?”

Yuji didn’t know how to respond. The idea of leaving Satoru behind felt impossible. But Satoru’s words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his loneliness. It was a rare glimpse into the mind of the man everyone thought was invincible.

“I have high hopes for you.” Satoru continued, his voice becoming more playful, but there was something fragile beneath the surface. “Desire and ambition!”

“I could never forget you.” Yuji said as he smiled nervously, trying to deflect the seriousness with humor, though it didn’t quite land. 

Satoru sighed. “I honestly think it’s better to have someone stronger than me who can truly forget my existence.”

“Isn’t that a bit concerning, Sensei?” Yuji asked after a moment, tilting his head. “Are you okay with that?”

Satoru’s smile softened. “Ah, you’re so young and naïve!” he said fondly, his voice carrying an almost paternal tone. “You’re brimming with confidence, aren’t you?”

The conversation lulled, and for a moment, the two sat in silence, the air between them thick with unsaid things. And then, Satoru spoke again, but this time his voice was lower, as if he were confessing something he hadn’t shared with anyone else.

“You know, Yuji…..” Satoru began, his gaze distant. The most emotional Yuji had seen him to be. “Sometimes I wish I could just… run away. With my beloved. My wife. Megumi, Tsumiki, and little Satoshi too. I dream about it sometimes. Hiding us away somewhere no one could find us. No more battles, no more curses… just peace. We’d be a family again.”

Yuji looked at his sensei Gojo, stunned. He had never heard his teacher speak like this before, as though the weight of being the strongest had finally worn him down. Gojo Satoru’s dream of escaping, of living a quiet life with the people he loved—it was so human. 

So far removed from the man everyone saw as untouchable, undefeatable. But at this moment, Satoru wasn’t the strongest sorcerer in the world. He was just a man who wanted to protect the people he loved. A man who longed for something simple, something real.

“That’s my dream, my love and dreams.” Satoru whispered, his voice barely audible. “But I know it’s impossible. The world needs me too much.”

Yuji’s heart ached for him. He didn’t know what to say, so instead, he simply sat there, hoping that in his silence, his sensei could feel his support.

Satoru sighed, standing up and stretching as if to shake off the heaviness of their conversation. “Anyway, enough of that.” he said, flashing his usual grin. “Let’s focus on what’s in front of us.”

But even as he spoke, Yuji couldn’t shake the feeling that, deep down, Satoru Gojo longed for something far beyond his reach.

Yuji stared at Satoru, processing the weight of his sensei's words. It was hard to imagine Satoru Gojo, the invincible sorcerer who seemed so carefree, harboring such a vulnerable wish. A man who could crush enemies with ease, someone who always had the answers—yet, here he was, confessing a dream that would never come true.

“I never thought… you’d want something like that, Sensei.” Yuji admitted quietly, his voice breaking the silence. “I guess I never really thought about what you’d want outside of all this.”

Satoru glanced at him, a softer smile playing on his lips. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? When you’re as strong as I am, no one really thinks to ask what you want. They think you don’t need anything… or anyone.”

Yuji frowned, guilt washing over him. He hadn’t meant to think that way about Gojo Satoru, but it was true. He had always seen his teacher as larger than life, almost beyond human in his ability to control any situation, to be everywhere and nowhere at once.

"But... you have them, Sensei." Yuji said slowly, searching for the right words. "Your wife, Megumi, Tsumiki, and Satoshi… They need you, don't they? Maybe you can’t run away, but you still have something, sensei. A family. Isn't that enough?”

Satoru chuckled, but the sound was hollow, lacking its usual energy. He sat back down beside Yuji, his gaze once again distant. “You’d think that, right? But the stronger you are, the more people take from you. It’s like… I’m always on borrowed time. I’m always one fight away from leaving them behind too.”

Yuji swallowed hard. He’d never thought about Satoru’s life in that way. It was a sobering realization, that even someone as powerful as Gojo was constantly battling not just external threats but the fear of losing what little he had.

“I wish I could protect them from everything.” Satoru murmured. “Just take them somewhere far away… no more battles, no more cursed energy. Just… quiet. But no matter how strong I am, I can’t do that. I can’t just… leave the world to burn while we live in peace.”

He turned to Yuji then, his icy blue eyes piercing through the air. “You know, sometimes I think I was selfish for bringing them into my world. Megumi, Tsumiki, Satoshi… my wife. They didn’t ask for this. I chose this life for them.”

“Sensei.” Yuji started, unsure of what to say. His heart ached for Satoru. “They love you. And… they wouldn’t want to live without you, either. Even if it’s dangerous.”

Satoru’s lips twitched upward in a bittersweet smile. “Yeah, I know. But love’s a tricky thing, Yuji. It’s not enough to stop the world from trying to tear us apart. It never has been.”

Yuji nodded, not fully understanding, but feeling the gravity of Satoru’s words. There was a silence between them, but it was heavy with the weight of shared thoughts, of unspoken dreams and impossible futures.

Satoru leaned back, his hands resting behind his head. “But hey, that’s just how it goes, right? No point in dwelling on things we can’t change.”

He looked at Yuji with a bright grin, but it felt like a mask—one Yuji was starting to see through more and more. “So, enough about me. What about you? What are your dreams, Yuji?”

Yuji blinked, surprised by the sudden shift. “My dreams?”

Satoru nodded. “Yeah. You must have some. Or did you think I was the only one allowed to have them?”

Yuji scratched the back of his neck, thinking for a moment. “I guess… I don’t know. I never really thought that far ahead. I’ve been so focused on everything happening now, I never gave myself the chance.”

Satoru chuckled softly. “That’s the thing with us, sorcerers. We get so caught up in fighting for today, we forget to dream about tomorrow.”

Yuji looked down at his hands, feeling a strange sense of guilt. “Do you really think… you can never have that life you want?”

Satoru didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed his eyes, letting the wind ruffle his silver hair. For a moment, he was just Satoru—not the strongest, not the invincible sorcerer, but a man burdened by the life he had to lead.

“I don’t know, Yuji……” he said quietly, almost to himself. “But I like to dream that maybe, someday… we could all disappear. And live. Just live.  Just me, my wife, Megumi, Tsumiki, Satoshi… away from everything. Living in peace.”

His voice trailed off, and Yuji could hear the longing in it. The truth was, Satoru Gojo might be the strongest sorcerer alive, but even he was bound by the same rules as everyone else. He couldn’t run from the world, couldn’t hide from the battles he had to fight.

But it didn’t stop him from dreaming.

Yuji looked at him with a new understanding, realizing that no matter how strong someone was, they still carried their own struggles, their own wishes and dreams. And sometimes, those dreams were just as fragile as anyone else's.

"Maybe one day, sensei." Yuji said softly, with an honest smile. "You won't have to fight anymore."

Satoru chuckled, opening one eye to glance at Yuji. "Maybe. But until then, we keep going."

And with that, the conversation ended, but the weight of it lingered between them—a reminder that even the strongest had dreams they longed to chase, even if those dreams were just out of reach.

YOU THINK YOU WAITED FOR THIS MOMENT FOR A LONG TIME. When you wait for your eyes to close with finality, the weight of the years presses down on you, a quiet fatigue settling into your bones. You’re tired—so tired—and when you open them again, you're met with the familiar sight of Fushiguro Megumi and Gojo Satoshi. Your two sons, waiting for you to go and leave them. 

Megumi stands tall, his arms crossed as usual, but his gaze softens when he sees you. Satoshi, ever his opposite, smiles that wide, carefree grin of his. They both look at you, concern etched into their features.

"I'm exhausted." you tell them softly, the words slipping out like a confession you’ve been holding in for far too long.

“You can’t die yet, Mother......" Satoshi pipes up, his voice steady, but the cracks of fear were unmistakable. His usual bright demeanor falters, his hands trembling ever so slightly as he grips the hem of his shirt. His voice may be steady, but his eyes betray him—glossed with unshed tears, reflecting a grief he’s not ready to face. Not now. Not yet. 

“You’re still too young!” There’s urgency in his words, a childlike plea echoing in his tone, though he’s long since grown past childhood. The way his shoulders hunch forward, the way his gaze darts between you and Megumi—he’s holding on. Clutching to hope as if his words could anchor you to this world a little longer. 

Megumi stands beside him, more composed, but his silence carries a weight just as heavy. He nods, his expression solemn. “He’s right, Gen-san.” Megumi adds quietly.

His voice is low, restrained, as though he’s struggling to hold back everything he truly wants to say. His hands remain tucked in his pockets, his face as unreadable as ever, but his eyes—the eyes you’ve known for so many years—hold a flicker of something deeper. Desperation? Fear? Perhaps both.

"You’re only 48. You still have time left."

His words are careful, deliberate, each one carrying the weight of someone who’s had to shoulder too much responsibility, too much loss. The faint tremor in his voice betrays how much he’s already bracing himself for another wound, another absence he’ll have to carry.

You look at them both—Satoshi, who still clings to hope as though it could somehow rewrite fate, and Megumi, whose quiet strength has always shielded him from the full brunt of the pain—but not this time. They both stand there, torn between urging you to stay and accepting the inevitable.

But you smile at them, a soft, knowing smile that carries the weight of the years, the joy and the sorrow, the love and the loss. It's a smile that’s lived through the ache of life without Satoru, a smile that remembers every laugh, every argument, every stolen glance, and every moment that felt too brief. 

“I know, I know......” you say, your voice gentle, steady. There’s a peace in your tone that they don’t yet understand, a quiet acceptance that fills the space between you. “But I’m ready. I’ve missed Satoru... for so long.”

And in that moment, as you say his name, the air feels lighter, as if the years of separation, the longing, the silent ache in your chest begins to unravel. You missed him—not just in fleeting moments or in passing thoughts, but in the depths of your soul. Every day, every night. The space he left behind has been a constant companion, a reminder of what once was and what could never be again.

The tears in Satoshi’s eyes finally spill over, and Megumi’s lips press into a thin line, his jaw tightening, but neither of them say anything. They understand, even if they don’t want to.

Because love—true, enduring love—is something that even death can’t diminish. And they know you loved Satoru with all that you were, and perhaps, even now, they understand that your heart has been waiting for him all along.

The weight in your chest lightens as you speak his name. Megumi frowns but doesn't say anything more, and Satoshi’s smile falters, understanding settling into their eyes. 

You close your eyes once again, the world fading into a peaceful darkness. There's a brief moment of silence, a quiet passing, before a familiar voice echoes softly, teasingly:

“Did you miss me?”

Tears well up before you even open your eyes. You don’t need to see him to know it’s him. The voice, that unmistakable voice—playful, laced with all the love and mischief you’d missed for too long.

When your eyes flutter open, there he is—Satoru, standing before you, that brilliant smile lighting up his face. The tears fall freely now, but for the first time in years, they're not from

“Satoru......” you breathe, his name barely a whisper on your lips, as though speaking it aloud might break the fragile moment. Your voice catches in your throat, a mix of disbelief, relief, and the sorrow that’s lived inside you for far too long.

It’s a name you’ve spoken to the silence of empty rooms, whispered into the night when no one was there to hear, a name tied to a thousand memories you’ve held onto so tightly for all these years. 

The tears that have welled up in your eyes begin to spill over, blurring the figure before you, but you don’t need to see him to know it’s him. You feel him—his presence, his warmth, the way his energy fills the space around you like it always did. 

He steps closer, closing the distance between you in a way that feels like the erasure of all those agonizing years of separation. His familiar warmth envelops you, wrapping around you like an embrace you’ve longed for, like a homecoming after a journey that has lasted far too long.

The brush of his thumb against your cheek is achingly gentle, tender as he wipes away the tears that won’t stop falling. His touch, so familiar, yet so missed, sends a wave of emotions crashing over you—grief for the years you lost, joy for the moment you never thought you’d have again.

"You came back to me, finally." His voice is quieter now, the usual teasing that you had come to know so well is gone, replaced by something deeper—something raw and vulnerable, a depth of emotion he often hid beneath his bravado.

There’s relief in his words, but also a quiet sorrow, as if he too felt the weight of all the time you’d spent apart. As if he too had been waiting, missing you just as much as you had missed him.

His breath is warm against your skin, and you hear the slight tremor in his voice, that hint of fragility in the man who always seemed invincible to you. There’s a vulnerability in him now, standing before you, as though he’s afraid this moment might not be real. Afraid that if he holds you too tightly, you might slip away again.

His thumb continues to trace gentle patterns along your cheek, the rhythm of it soothing and familiar, grounding you in the reality that he’s truly here. And as he looks at you, his bright blue eyes softer now, there’s a depth to them that speaks to all the words left unsaid, to all the years spent in separation, to the weight of the grief he carried alone.

"I waited and waited, stalling some gods....." he continues, his voice just above a whisper now, the teasing facade stripped away, leaving only the rawness of his feelings. "I waited so long, and every day… I missed you."

There’s a moment of silence that stretches between you, heavy with the unspoken sorrow of time lost, of love interrupted by forces beyond your control. His hand, still cradling your face, trembles just slightly, as if even Satoru, with all his strength, couldn’t bear the thought of losing you again.

The weight of it all—of everything you endured, everything you lost—comes crashing down at once, and you let out a soft, broken sob. You feel his arms wrap around you, pulling you against him, holding you close like he’s afraid to ever let go. 

“I missed you too. So so much.” you whisper into his chest, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt. “I never stopped missing you, Satoru.”

You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep breath, his lips pressing softly against your forehead. And for the first time in what feels like forever, the sorrow that’s been living inside you begins to ease. It doesn’t disappear entirely—grief never really does—but here, in Satoru’s arms, it feels lighter. It feels like, maybe, you can finally rest.

And in that moment, you realize that the exhaustion, the waiting—it was all worth it. You're home.

epilogue

The afterlife wasn’t exactly what you expected. Instead of floating through clouds or endless fields of serenity, you found yourself at what looked like an airport terminal. Before you could process how bizarre this was, you spotted them—Kaiko and Namie, both waving like maniacs from the crowd.

“Finally!” Kaiko shouts, sprinting toward you with the grace of someone who has no concept of personal space. Namie follows, beaming brightly, and within seconds, they’re both squeezing the life out of you.

“Guys, air... I need air!” you gasp, but they only hug you tighter. Kaiko plants a kiss on your cheek, and Namie loops an arm around your waist like they’ve been waiting years for this reunion.

“We missed you so much, you know?” Kaiko pouts, ignoring your protests. “The afterlife just isn’t the same without you.”

“Excuse me.” You look over Kaiko’s shoulder to see Satoru, sunglasses slightly askew, his mouth pulled into a pout that could rival a spoiled child’s. “You’re hogging my wife.”

Kaiko smirks, not even turning to look at Satoru. “Your wife? Funny, because I’m pretty sure I was her first love.” She raises an eyebrow, tilting her head ever so slightly as if daring him to challenge the claim.

Satoru's eyes narrow behind his shades. “That was ages ago, you homewrecker! She married me—” he steps forward, pointing at the both of you— “not you.”

“Oh please,” Kaiko rolls her eyes. “I’ve known her longer. I laid the groundwork. I was and always will be the original concept!”

Satoru steps closer, his height towering over Kaiko but Kaiko isn’t fazed. “She chose me.”

“She settled for you, shitty eyes!” Kaiko quips, her grin widening. “There’s a difference.”

And that’s all it takes. Satoru’s eyebrow twitches, and suddenly they’re in each other’s faces like squabbling children. You can barely get a word in before they start throwing insults—Kaiko jabbing at Satoru’s height, Satoru boasting about his undeniable charm.

“Guys, seriously?” You rub your temples, trying to hold back laughter. “This is ridiculous.”

Geto Suguru, ever the voice of reason (or at least the one who knows when to pick his battles), sidles up beside you with a casual smile. “Looks like some things never change.”

You grin at him, feeling a sense of ease that only Suguru can bring. “Tell me about it. Can’t believe I’m back and they’re already fighting over me.”

“Typical Satoru!” Suguru laughs. “He never could handle competition.” He offers you a knowing look, then gestures to the absurd scene in front of you. “Should we break it up?”

“Nah, let them tire themselves out.” you reply, waving a hand dismissively. “They’ll realize how stupid they’re being soon enough.”

As if on cue, Kaiko flicks Satoru in the forehead. “She loved my kisses first!”

“Oh, for—" Satoru huffs, about to lunge at Kaiko when you step in between them. “She loved mine more!”

“Oh shut up,your kisses are slimy and disgusting!”

“HUH!? You take that back!”

“Ugly frog! Bwah!” 

“Alright, enough.” You shake your head, stifling a laugh. “Satoru, Kaiko, stop acting like children. I’m here for everyone, okay?”

“Everyone except Kaiko.” Satoru mutters under his breath.

Suguru chuckles beside you, giving you a side glance. “Welcome back.”

You smile, patting his shoulder. “Good to be back. I see things haven’t changed much.”

As Kaiko and Satoru continue bickering like they’re back in high school, Suguru leans over, smirking. “Should we take bets on who wins this round?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Nah, I’m putting my money on Namie. She’s going to step in and drag both of them away soon enough.”

And, just like clockwork, Namie swoops in, grabbing Kaiko by the arm and tugging her toward the exit, muttering about “taking this fight outside.”

Satoru watches them go, arms crossed, still pouting. He looks at you, expectant, as if waiting for reassurance.

You chuckle, stepping closer and placing a hand on his chest. “Relax, Satoru. You know you’re the one I chose.”

His pout softens into a grin, and he leans down to kiss your forehead. “Damn right.”

And with that, the chaos of the airport fades into the background, as you bask in the comfort of having your husband by your side—and of course, the endless entertainment of old rivals.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 9

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , -

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“You know, to be honest... no,” you said, your voice steady, cold.

Ian’s eyes lit up with delight, misinterpreting your words at first. But his expression quickly faded as you added, “I don’t trust you either.”

Ian hadn’t expected that. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, he was at a loss. He had been so sure of his position, of where he stood with you, that hearing your blunt confession shook him. Was this the same woman he had once admired? The one who had fought alongside him, standing up to injustice?

“I don’t trust anyone right now,” you continued, your voice low, carrying the weight of the burden you’ve been shouldering.

Ian’s lips tightened as he looked at you, searching for the person he thought he knew. “So you choose to stay with him.” The way he said it was both an accusation and a plea.

“It’s... complicated,” you replied, your voice wavering for the first time. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t just about survival—it was about winning. About showing Caroline and everyone else that you could rise above it all. The desire to shove your victory in their faces burned more intensely than your desire to leave.

Ian shook his head, disappointment heavy in his voice. “I’m disappointed in you. This isn’t the friend I knew. The person who fought for the truth, the person I admired and...” He stopped himself. He didn’t need to say it, but you knew what came next—'the person I liked.'

“Ian...” you started, feeling the sting of his words, but before you could say more, the mood shifted sharply. People suddenly began flooding back into the café as though nothing unusual had happened. You exchanged a confused look with Ian, his surprise mirroring your own.

Tim’s cheerful voice cut through the confusion. “You had your coffee?” He waved, sitting comfortably in his wheelchair, oblivious to the tension in the air.

Your eyes darted to Bucky, who was standing behind Tim, his presence dominating the space. Flanked by bodyguards, he stepped into the café like he owned the place. For a moment, you felt a strange sense of relief seeing him, though you knew better than to fully trust that feeling.

“Ian! What's up!” Tim added, offering a friendly wave, unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface.

You quickly grabbed your coffee cup, walking toward Bucky and whispering, “I want to go.”

Bucky didn’t take his eyes off Ian as he responded, “Go with Tim.” His voice was sharp, calculating. Something was off, and he knew it. The uneasy feeling had only grown when Tim mentioned that you hadn’t returned from the café. That’s why he had come—to check on you.

You nodded, quickly moving to push Tim’s wheelchair, eager to escape the thick tension in the air. The moment you stepped outside, you felt the weight lift, but the knot in your stomach remained.

Now, it was just Bucky and Ian. The tension between them could cut through glass.

Bucky’s eyes stayed cold, his expression unreadable, but his voice was smooth, measured. “I understand you hate my family,” he said, folding his arms. “I’m not here to defend what my brother did. There are no excuses for his actions. But you should know...” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, “You don’t get to play God with this situation.”

Ian stared at Bucky, his jaw clenched. “Your brother ruined lives. And you let him walk free until it was convenient for you to throw him under the bus.”

Bucky’s lips curled into a small, calculating smile. “Let’s not pretend this is about justice, Ian. This is about revenge. Your brother was a tragedy, yes, but don’t stand there and act like your motives are pure.”

Ian leaned forward, his anger barely contained. “Maybe it is about revenge. But at least I’m not hiding behind the lie that this is all some grand scheme for the greater good. You sacrifice people for your ambition. You use them. Shawn. Me. Her.”

“But,” Bucky raised a single finger, his voice low but sharp, “you forget one thing. You can’t sue my family because the family that adopted your twin has already reached a settlement with us.”

Ian’s jaw tightened. “Money can’t replace my brother.”

Bucky gave a slow, measured nod. “That’s right. But the case is closed.” His voice was almost casual, like they were discussing a simple transaction.

“Do you really want to bring it up again and humiliate the adopted family that raised your twin? That couple is enjoying their pension life.” Bucky pulled out a photo, holding it up with a smirk. “Look, both of them are on a cruise. Carefree.”

Ian’s hands clenched into fists, his eyes burning with anger.

Bucky leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a quiet murmur. “You’re trying to bring me down, Ian. But let’s be honest. We’re in different leagues.”

Ian’s voice was cold, filled with contempt. “Different leagues?” He took a step forward, not backing down. “You think power makes you untouchable, but everyone falls eventually, Bucky. Even you. The difference is, when you fall, it’ll be a lot harder than it was for your brother.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You talk big for a man with no cards to play.”

Then, in a swift motion, Bucky snapped his fingers, calling the barista over. “You,” Bucky said, his gaze locking onto the young man behind the counter, “what did he offer you to get involved in this?”

The barista froze, wide-eyed and clearly caught off guard. His eyes flicked between Ian, who glared at him with barely restrained fury, and Bucky, whose calm voice cut through the tension like a knife.

“He—he knows I’m dealing drugs on campus,” the barista stammered, fear creeping into his voice. “I’m afraid if it gets out, I’ll be expelled from university.”

Bucky’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of distaste crossing his face. “Drugs, huh? That’s a big no in my book.” He paused, letting the tension build before adding, “But… what if I make sure no one ever hears about your little side job?”

The barista blinked in disbelief. “Really?”

Bucky nodded slowly, his tone almost fatherly. “As long as you do one thing for me—never let this man,” he gestured to Ian with a lazy flick of his hand, “step foot in this café again.”

“Done,” the barista replied quickly, relief flooding his face. “And, uh, you’ve got my vote too.”

Bucky smiled, shaking the young man’s hand. “Thank you.”

Turning back to Ian, Bucky’s smile turned into a smirk, the satisfaction dripping from his voice. “Did you see that? That’s the difference between us. You blackmail people. I make deals that last.”

Ian’s glare deepened, his voice trembling with anger. “Politicians and journalists have one thing in common: information. You manipulate it, just like you did with this poor kid. It’s no different from what I do.”

Bucky’s laugh was low and amused, as if Ian’s words barely registered. “Oh, there’s a difference.” His eyes gleamed with cold certainty. “I have power. And the information I gather ages like fine wine. It only gets more valuable with time.”

Ian took a step closer, his voice bitter. “Just like the way you’re using her.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as though Ian had made a naive remark. “That’s where you’re wrong, Ian.” He turned his back, walking toward the door without another glance. “This isn’t just about her, or you, or even my brother. This is bigger. But you’ll never see that.”

With that, Bucky exited the café, leaving Ian standing there, fists clenched, seething but helpless.

Outside, the air was crisp, and the low hum of the city wrapped around him like a blanket. Bucky strode to the car, his every step deliberate, his mind already shifting to the next move.

As he reached for the car door, he paused, surprised to see you waiting inside. He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face. “I thought you’d already left.”

You glanced at him, your expression unreadable. “I just finished talking to Tim. Told him not to meet with Ian again.”

Bucky’s lips curled into a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Good.”

You leaned back in the seat, watching him carefully. “What did Ian say?”

Bucky slid into the car, the door closing behind him with a soft thud. He adjusted his cufflinks, his movements slow and meticulous. “He’s angry. Desperate. But that makes him predictable.”

You studied him for a moment, unsure whether to feel comforted or wary. “You really think he’ll just back down?”

Bucky turned to you, his eyes gleaming with that familiar intensity. “People like Ian don’t back down. But they also don’t win.” He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering. “He’s playing a dangerous game. But I have the upper hand. Always.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes. "You're not afraid? Especially since he knows about our messy marriage."

Bucky leaned back in his seat, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I want to see him try."

"It'll affect the election," you pressed, your voice low but sharp. "Didn’t you say before that you're scared too, if it gets out?"

He paused for a moment, his gaze steady, then leaned forward, folding his hands on the table between you. "What I'm afraid of is how it'll affect you."

You blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected response, but he didn’t let you linger in the surprise for long. Bucky straightened his tie, that calm, calculating tone slipping back into place. "Come on," he continued, "nobody cares about the Vice President. Especially when Steve takes office. All eyes will be on him. I’ll be a shadow at best."

His nonchalance irritated you, but you could see the gears turning in his head, every word measured, every sentence layered with meaning. He wasn’t just dismissing Ian’s threat—he was planning around it, strategizing.

But you weren’t convinced. "And what happens when he digs too deep? When he finds something even you can't control?"

Bucky's smirk returned, his eyes gleaming with that familiar, dangerous edge. "Let him dig. The deeper he goes, the more he'll realize he's out of his league."

He got up, slipping his hands into his pockets, the image of absolute power and control. "This isn't a game of who's right, sweetheart. It's about who plays the board better."

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The next day, Greg arrived early in the morning, pounding on the door without pause. The relentless knocking echoed through the quiet house, pulling you from your sleep.

You opened the door, eyes still heavy with sleep, and found Greg standing there, pale and wide-eyed, clutching a newspaper tightly in his hands.

"What's wrong?" you asked, a sinking feeling forming in your stomach.

Greg didn’t say a word, just handed you the newspaper. The bold headline hit you like a punch to the gut:

"SILENT DIVORCE SHOCKS PUBLIC: Y/N LEFT BLINDSIDED BY BARNES' LIES"

“Bucky!” you screamed his name, your voice trembling with disbelief.

Bucky, who was just finishing up in the bathroom, emerged with a calm demeanor, a towel draped over his shoulder. He glanced at you, then at Greg, his expression unreadable.

“What’s going on?” he asked, though he clearly already knew.

You pointed at the newspaper, your heart racing. “This... they know everything about the divorce. It’s out there!”

Bucky stepped closer, taking the newspaper from your hand and scanning the article with a level gaze. “I was expecting this,” he said matter-of-factly, unfazed by the revelation.

“Expecting it?” You felt a surge of frustration. “How can you be so calm? They’re painting you as the villain.”

He shrugged slightly, his posture relaxed. “This is Ian’s doing."

Greg shifted awkwardly, glancing between the two of you. “This could seriously damage your campaign, Bucky. We need a plan.”

Bucky nodded slowly, considering. “We turn this around. We don’t deny anything outright, but we frame the narrative. Make it about my commitment to you, how you’ve been resilient in the face of adversity.”

Then, as if a light bulb had gone off in his head, Bucky added, “Tell them she’s pregnant.”

You and Greg were dumbfounded, staring at him in disbelief.

“Are you serious?” you finally managed to ask, incredulity lacing your tone.

Bucky nodded, a small, confident grin spreading across his face. “Think about it. It shifts the narrative entirely. The public will sympathize with you, and it puts me in the role of the protective husband. We can spin this into a story of love and support.”

You shook your head, a sense of unease washing over you. “No, Bucky. I can’t go along with that. I won’t lie about something like that. It’s unethical, and what if they find out?”

“Then we’ll deal with that when it comes,” he replied, his voice steady. “Right now, we need to act fast. We can’t let Ian control this narrative any longer.”

Greg looked between the two of you, uncertain. “This is a huge gamble, Bucky. Are you sure you want to push this?”

Bucky waved a hand dismissively. “This is politics, Greg. It’s about perception. If we can manipulate the story in our favor, then we do it.”

“But it’s still a lie,” you insisted, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. “I can’t just pretend to be pregnant for your campaign. It’s wrong.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes slightly, irritation flickering across his face. “It’s not wrong if it serves a purpose. This is about protecting your future, our future. We can’t let Ian tear us down.”

“By lying?” you shot back, frustration mounting. “That’s not how I want to do things, Bucky.”

He sighed, clearly growing impatient. “Tell them she’s pregnant, Greg. We need to control this narrative. The longer we wait, the more damage Ian can do.”

Greg hesitated, glancing at you for guidance. “Are you sure about this, Y/N? Because once we go down this road, there’s no turning back.”

Bucky's eyes remained fixed on Greg, unyielding. “Just do it. I’ll handle the fallout.”

You felt a wave of dread wash over you. Bucky’s resolve was intimidating, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a path you weren’t willing to take.

“Survival only for you. Not for me,” you shot back, your voice steady but the tension in your shoulders betraying your inner turmoil.

Bucky leaned in slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “I see you keep changing your mind. Didn’t you forget you wanted us to win?” He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips, as if he reveled in the challenge of bending your resolve.

You felt a whirlwind of thoughts crashing through your mind, the weight of his words pressing down on you. You had dreamed of victory, of standing beside him in triumph, yet this wasn’t the way you envisioned it. The idea of lying about a pregnancy felt like a betrayal, not just to yourself but to everything you believed in.

“Welcome to the game of politics, babe,” Bucky said, his voice dripping with a mix of amusement and challenge, leaning back in his chair as if this were all a mere chess match to him.

His nonchalance only fueled the fire inside you, and you clenched your jaw, unwilling to let him see how deeply his words affected you. “This isn’t a game, Bucky,” you replied, your voice firm, trying to assert your stance amidst the chaos swirling around you.

He shrugged, an air of indifference surrounding him. “To me, it is. And you’d do well to remember that.” The corner of his mouth quirked up, as if he had already won this round, leaving you questioning whether you were truly ready to play his game.

“What, are you still calm? Don’t you worry this will affect Steve?” you asked, your voice laced with incredulity.

He chuckled softly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I love your innocence in this.”

You felt bewildered, the confusion evident in your furrowed brow. “What do you mean?”

“Seems like Steve hides his skeletons better than I do. Even you, a journalist, didn’t know,” Bucky replied, his tone casual but with an underlying intensity.

“What?” you pressed, leaning in closer, eager for clarity.

Bucky leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms, a confident smirk playing on his lips. “The other reason why Steve chose me is to distract everyone from him. That’s our deal.”

You blinked, grappling with the implications of his words, feeling the weight of the political game you were both entrenched in.

You swallowed hard, the realization settling heavily in your stomach. He’s right. This is all a game. Every move, every conversation, calculated like chess pieces on a board.

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[makeitmingi]

Destined To Be A Girl Dad

Genre: Romance, Comedy, Cute, Fluff

Pairing: San x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Mom!Reader, Dad!San, Daughter (Choi Haeun)

Summary: When San found out you were pregnant with a girl, he could not be happier. You knew that she'll have him wrapped around her tiny finger but he'll gladly be a fool for his princess. And from the moment she was born, he prove it to be true.

Word count: 8K

Warning(s): Mentions of bodily fluids, giving birth, medical procedures, postpartum hemorrhage, (y/n)'s very stressed, scared, anxious and overwhelmed.

[A/N: This is a little 'flashback' chapter to when Haeun was born. I came across a lot of parents showing their newborn daughter and the dad's reactions just reminded me of San so much.]

San was rudely woken up by the sunlight that was streaming in through the gap in the curtains. Before he could even wake his brain, he got out of bed and went to close the curtains. He turned to make sure the sun wasn't bothering you. Thankfully, you were still fast asleep, unbothered by the sun.

"I love you." He leaned over to kiss your head, eyes scanning you to make sure you were comfortable and okay.

"San, I'm fine." You mumbled into your pillow, having felt his gaze on you despite being asleep. San chuckled, pressing his forehead against your temple lovingly.

"Just wanted to make sure you're comfy and safe, baby." He kissed your cheek.

"I'm the size of a whale, I don't even know what it's like to be comfortable anymore." You groaned.

"Don't say that about my princess. She's perfect, you're perfect." He laid down beside you, letting your rest your head on his arm. It was the best was to have you close to him since your belly was in the way.

"At this point, I just want my water to break already." You sighed in slight frustration.

"She'll come when she's ready. I know it's hard, baby. I'm sorry." He pouted, rubbing your arm.

"Want me to massage your feet or get you something?" He offered. With you going to give birth soon, your ankles have been swelling and bothering you so San has been very kind in giving you foot rubs whenever he can.

"No, can you just hold me?" You asked.

"Of course I can do that." San let you move on your own at your own pace to get yourself comfortable. You tilted your body so you could press your face against his chest.

"This should make you more relaxed." San whispered, reaching up to massage the back of your neck and shoulders.

"That feels good. You take such good care of us and she isn't even here yet." You melted into his touch.

"She's not born yet but she's here, she's a part of you. And I'll always take care of you and princess." San chuckled. With the massage and the sound of San's heartbeat, you slowly fell back asleep again.

"Sleep well." He stroked your hair.

Since you were due soon, San had taken some time off work. He still did his practices but there was less travelling just in case you went into labour.

Another thing is that ever since your pregnancy started, San has become a very light sleeper. He was always hyper vigilant and aware of your movements. Not that you wanted him to help you 24/7, he was just worried, he couldn't help it. So when he felt you stir and struggle to sit up, he opened his eyes.

"What do you need, baby?" San asked, sitting up just as you managed to stand on your feet and get out of bed.

"I'm just going to get more water, my bottle is empty. Go back to sleep, Sannie. I can manage it on my own." You giggled and put on your house slippers.

"I can get it for you, baby. I should have filled up your bottle for you before going to bed." He said.

"San, it's really okay. I can get my own water. And you did fill up my bottle, I just drank it all." You assured with a soft smile.

"Okay, call me if you need help." San told you. You hummed and left your shared bedroom to go to the kitchen. He didn't go back to sleep, he just sat there, waiting for a bit before going to help you.

"Sannie, do you want coffee?" You asked.

"I'm good, baby. I want you back in bed with me." He replied. He could hear you laughing.

CLANG!

"Baby!" San shot out of bed and rushed to the kitchen. You were standing there, the glass of water that was in your hand was shattered on the ground. You winced, knees starting to wobble as you held your back.

"Sorry." You groaned amidst the pain that you were in. Now San was worried you hurt yourself.

"It's okay, it's okay. Come. Careful." Holding both your hands in his, San guided you over the broken glass. He was grateful you were wearing the slippers Seonghwa bought you.

"Did the glass get you?" He sat you down and checked you, looking for any signs that you were cut from the glass.

"No, it hurts." You held your back.

"Braxton Hicks?" He bent down in front of you, helping you to rub your back. San knew that you have been having Braxton Hicks since you were going into labour soon.

"No, Sannie. I think it's real. The Braxton Hicks have never hurt so badly and it never reaches my back." You groaned.

"Oh........ OH!" It took a while for your words to sink in as San jumped to his feet.

"We should go to the hospital. Or should I call an ambulance? What should I do?!" He asked.

"Sannie, calm down. It's okay, breathe. It just started so we don't have to go to the hospital yet. But I should start timing how long they last and the intervals between them." You squeezed his hand as you reminded him of what the doctor told you, trying to maintain a smile as you felt him beginning to panic.

"Right, right. I'll help you. Let me clean up the glass first." San was reluctant to let go of your hand but the broken glass on the floor was a hazard to both you and him.

"I'm sorry I made a mess and can't even help clean it up." You sighed.

"No need to apologise, baby. You're in labour. You just focus on yourself and princess." He looked at you with an excited smile.

"You're such a goof." You chuckled. San shot you a flat look with a playful pout before returning back to cleaning. After he was done, San escorted you back to bed to rest.

"Are you timing your contractions? Are they getting more intense?" He asked as he retrieved towels.

"Still manageable." You groaned.

"Alright, come here, baby." San laid out the towels for them, knowing you would be stressed out if your water broke all over the sheets and the mattress.

"Careful. Easy..." He cooed, adjusting your pillow for you so you were comfortable.

"Shall I get you some food? A drink?" He asked.

"No but after the princess comes, I want a big coffee. A BIG coffee, Choi San." You held his collar to show how serious you were. With your pregnancy, you had to severely cut down on your coffee intake, which you did not really like.

"Of course, baby. Anything you want." He kissed the top of your head and went out to the kitchen to fix you snack. You did your best to stay distracted, watching San fancams on your iPad.

"Hey! I'm here!" You heard noises outside and put the iPad down. In came Wooyoung with a big grin.

"So, how's my god daughter doing?" He asked, reaching over to hug you.

"She's not here yet but soon, she'll be here in our arms. Just a little more." You chuckled, patting his back. Wooyoung was also very involved in your pregnancy.

"Even with the man right here, in the flesh, you're still watching his fancams?" He raised an eyebrow, seeing your iPad.

"It distracts me, okay?" Your cheeks heated up, closing the iPad before San could come in.

"Well, it definitely distracts you in one way because that's how my god daughter got here. And perhaps my future god children." He teased and you slapped his arm in embarrassment.

"Anyway, I brought you some food. San's too panicked to cook now but you should get some food in you." He told you. You laughed and nodded your head. Just then, San came in with a tray, plating up the food that Wooyoung had brought along with him. He placed it on the bed for you.

"Come on." Both San and Wooyoung helped you sit up properly so you could eat, even if San insisted on feeding you.

"Ah... Damn it." You cursed under your breath as another contraction hit you. San rubbed your back and let you squeeze his hand until the wave of pain would pass.

"So, how long can this last? Or rather, how long should it last until you go to the hospital?" Wooyoung asked.

"Dude, did you not read the parenting books I got you?" San asked his best friend in disbelief.

"Look, I tried my best to read two! I couldn't continue reading the other five." Wooyoung groaned and whined. You laughed and patted San's shoulder.

"It's fine. Basically, we time how long they last and the intervals between them. Then we go to the hospital." You replied.

"I already texted our OBGYN that the labour has started. She's ready when you are." San informed.

"When I am ready? More like when your daughter is ready." You chuckled. San cooed and kissed your temple. Even if you were full, you tried to eat at least half of what Wooyoung brought you. And you made sure both Wooyoung and San ate too.

"Trust me, you'll both need your energy too." You told them, holding the wall and slowly walking around. San had his bowl in his hand, his other hand held out to support you in case you fell.

"San, eat your food. It's fine, I'll manage on my own for a few minutes." You assured.

"No, I'd rather just be here by your side." He shook his head as he chewed his food.

"Is your go bag packed?" Wooyoung asked.

"Oh, I need my phone charger and the book from my nightstand." You replied. San was going to go but Wooyoung held his hand out to stop him, going into your room to retrieve the items for you.

"Don't know if you're going to be able to get much reading done with the princess here." San laughed.

"That's why I have you and Woo, right?" You joked.

"That's right. I am not leaving my princess' side." Wooyoung declared as he came out with your items, tucking them into the bag that you had packed and ready on the couch.

"You mean, my princess." San corrected with a glare. Wooyoung rolled his eyes. You laughed with a shake of your head. If the two were already fighting before your daughter was born, you can only imagine how much worse it was going to be when she actually gets here. Not the mention, the 6 other uncles waiting.

"She's not even here yet and you two-" You stopped mid sentence as you felt a pop.

"What?" San asked in confusion and worry. Until you both looked down and saw the trickle of liquid go down your leg.

"I think now's a good time to go to the hospital." San said and you nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up. You were frozen in your spot as the trickle was consistent.

"Text my parents. Tell them her water broke and we're going to the hospital now." San told Wooyoung as he pulled on clothes and grabbed you a hoodie that he knew would keep you comfortable.

"What's wrong, baby? Does it hurt?" San frowned, wondering why you haven't moved.

"It's dripping..." You mumbled, hiding your face in your hands.

"Hey, it's okay. It's okay, it's normal." San hugged you, rubbing your back. Tears welled up in your eyes, you didn't know what was happening, you just couldn't handle it.

"It's so embarrassing, I'm going to die." You cried. Even if you expected this to happen and knew it was going to happen, it still felt so embarrassing to have your bodily fluids leak out of you, especially in front of Wooyoung.

"(y/n), listen to me. This is normal, you're giving birth. There's nothing to be embarrassed about." Wooyoung assured.

"It's alright, hmm? Don't worry." San kissed your cheek, wiping your tears away. You nodded tearfully and squeezed San's hand as he slipped your shoes on for you and guided you out of the house.

"Careful, easy." San placed a towel on the passenger seat for you to sit before loading up the car and driving to the hospital.

"Oww..." You took deep breaths, feeling the pain become more intense and frequent.

"Sir, you can't park here." The guard said as San stopped his car.

"I know! I know! But my wife is in labour, can you help her? I'll move my car right after." San came out and opened your door. He watched as the guard called nurses to come with the gurney.

"I'll see you inside, baby." San squeezed your hand. You nodded and shot him a small smile before he got in the car and went to park.

Of course, you were slightly freaked out that you were now alone and without San, you were scared and nervous. But a part of you didn't want to make him panic even more so you took a deep breath and tried your best to calm yourself down, telling yourself that he'll be back by your side soon.

"Hey, (y/n)." Your OBGYN came into your delivery room. Since your water broke, the nurses brought you to the delivery room right away instead of checking you into a ward.

"Dr Min, I'm glad to see a familiar face." You smiled tearfully.

"Hey, I'm here for you and your baby. You're in safe hands." She patted your shoulder and began to check you.

"San's parking the car but he said he got you up to speed on everything? My brain's just a little foggy now." You admitted honestly, watching her put on her gloves.

"Yes, he did. Don't worry. I'll just check you now to see how dilated yet." She told you.

"I'm here! Is she born yet?!" San burst into the room, breathing heavily. The nurses in the room giggled at his outburst.

"Sannie, shhh. No, she's not born yet." You chuckled, opening your arms for him. As San made his way over, he smiled at Dr Min and gave you a hug.

"Looks like we're getting there but not yet. We'll have to wait a little more." Dr Min said, standing back up and removing her gloves to throw them into the bin. You let out a long, defeated sigh and San stroked your head.

"Thanks, Dr Min." San bowed his head.

"Don't be discouraged. Baby girl will be here soon." Dr Min smiled softly at you. You nodded and waved as she left the room. San pulled up a chair so he could stay by your side as the wait began.

"Are you sure you don't want anything for the pain?" San asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm okay. It's all on our princess, we'll wait until she's ready." You said, reaching up to hold his face in your hands.

"But you're in pain and I don't like seeing you in pain." He kissed your hand. One of the options that you and San had discussed was inducing or speeding up the birth but you wanted to push through.

"You're so strong, baby. You're a good omma." He smiled softly, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

"You do whatever makes you feel comfortable, okay? It's your decision." He assured.

"Thanks, Sannie. I just feel better with you here." You said. There was no other person you would rather have a child with. San was always there for you, always supportive and encouraging. He never pushed you to do anything you didn't want to do, he trusts your instinct and decisions for both yours and your daugher's wellbeing.

"You know I'll always be here for you and for the princess." He pressed your hand against his cheek.

"I just want her to be okay." You teared up. Hearing your suddenly serious words, San stood up from his seat, leaning over you. His eyes searched yours.

"Hey, hey. Where's all this coming from? Baby, you'll be okay. Both you and princess will be okay. I've got you both." He frowned.

"I know, I just suddenly feel so scared." You rubbed your eyes like a little child crying to her parent.

"It's normal to be scared. But don't be. Dr Min and everyone will take care of you." He comforted. As another contraction hit, you winced and squeezed San's hand. He rubbed your back soothingly.

"Let me get you some water. Breathe, baby." San poured cold water into a cup for you and held the straw out for you to drink.

"Thank you." You coughed slightly and grabbed a towel you bought to wipe your tears and sweat.

"Princess, I know you're comfy in there but omma is dealing with a lot of pain. Be a good girl and make it easy for omma." San said, pressing his ear to your stomach like he always did throughout the pregnancy. You ran your fingers through his hair.

"Ooh, she did not like that." San chuckled as both you and him felt her move and kick where his ear was. San pouted at your daughter but still planted a kiss to your belly.

"I'm gonna miss her kicks." San pouted at you.

"Alright, I don't know what you're implying but slow down, cowboy." You pushed his forehead.

A few more hours passed with San staying by your side and helping you through the contractions. Your parents and San's parents came, both mothers making sure you were okay and comfortable.

"Okay, omma. Let's see where baby girl is at." Dr Min came in again. San wiped the sweat off your forehead for you.

"Looks like we're ready to start pushing." Dr Min's head popped up.

"We'll be outside. Call us if you need anything." Your mom and Mrs Choi said, leaving the room to give you and San some privacy. They didn't want to overwhelm you further.

"I've got you okay? Don't be afraid, you can do this, baby. I know you can." San looked down at you and you nodded. With the guidance of your OBGYN, you began to push. San squeezed your hand and you tried your best to push. Even when you got tired, all the staff were encouraging to you.

"I can see the head. You're doing great, (y/n). Just a little more." Dr Min told you.

"She's out, she's out." Dr Min announced and clamped the cord, separating your baby from the placenta. You both watched as she handed the baby to the nurse practitioner.

"She's here." San excitedly looked over but still remaind by your side. Even as your daughter let out her first big cry.

"Go, see your princess, comfort her." You patted his hand. All you had to do was deliver the placenta.

"Cut here." The nurse handed San the scissors to cut the umbilical cord. He couldn't even stop the huge grin from forming on his face as he watched his daughter.

"Hi there, it's okay. Appa's got you." San cooed as the nurse placed the baby in his arms.

As much as San wanted to hold her longer, he knew skin to skin with you was more important. So he brought her to you immediately.

"She's perfect." San smiled as he lowered her down to you. You smiled tired and weakly, eyes blinking slowly. And before San could release her into your arms, your eyes closed and your head dropped. San's eyes widened in shock.

"She's hemorrhaging! Doctor!" The nurse yelled and Dr Min ran over as the machines beeped in alarm.

"Baby?! (y/n)!" San yelled out in fear. Your daughter began to cry and San felt tears in his eyes too. What was happening? What was going on? All he could see was your pale face.

"BP dropping. Someone take Mr Choi and the child to another room." Dr Min ordered.

"Please, save my wife." San begged as the nurse led him to another room.

"We will try our best, Mr Choi. Dr Min is the best. But now, you need to have skin on skin with your daughter." The nurse advised calmly and San handed the baby to her.

"Like this?" San removed his shirt, letting the nurse lay the baby against his chest. The moment she did, the baby calmed down.

"Please go save her." San cried. The nurse nodded and left the room. His parents and your parents came in, all panicked. Of course, San wanted this to be a joyous occasion, he waited so long to meet his daughter and now she was here, in his arms. But he just couldn't, knowing you were unconscious.

"What happened?" Your mother asked worriedly.

"I don't know. I think they said she's hemorrhaging. She was fine, all she had to do was deliver the placenta. I shouldn't have left her side." San cried.

"San, San. Calm down. (y/n)'s going to be okay. You need to be strong for her and your daughter." Mrs Choi told him.

"Okay." San took deep breaths. He and his daughter seemed to be able to calm each other down.

"She'll be okay." Your mother assured, wiping San's tears. San looked down at the baby that was sleeping on his chest. He gently kissed the top of her head.

"Omma will be okay." He whispered. Soon, another nurse came in with a baby basinet.

"How's my wife?" San asked.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't know. I need to bring the baby for her checks." The nurse apologised. San didn't want to let his daughter go, even with his mother around, he felt like your baby was the only thing that could comfort him now.

"Can it wait?" San pleaded. The nurse looked conflicted, unsure of what she should do.

"I'm sorry. But if there was a birth complication, we need to check. I promise I'll bring her back as soon as possible." The nurse said. San reluctantly handed the baby to her.

"Mr Choi?" Dr Min came in and San immediately stood up, even when his shirt wasn't fully buttoned up yet.

"Doc, how is she?" San felt like he couldn't breathe.

"She's fine. Out of the woods. Bleeding after birth is normal but she bled a lot. But don't worry, she's okay. She's recovering. I'll need to keep her here for a few days longer though." She informed.

"Of course, anything. We'll stay for as long as she'll need. Thank you so much." San bowed deeply to the doctor.

"Now go be with your wife. I had the nurses send her up to your ward already." Dr Min smiled and San went up to the ward where you were wheeled up to.

When San entered, you were fast asleep, probably tired for the birth and the huge loss of blood. But San knew you were a fighter. He hovered over you and kissed your forehead, feeling another round of tears threaten to fall. Obviously he didn't know the severity of the bleed but he knew he almost lost you.

"I love you. Thank you." He pressed his head against yours. As he took a chair to sit, he held your hand the entire time.

"You did good, baby. You did so good, you deserve to rest. She's perfect, an angel just like you. Sleep for as long as you want." San said to you, even though you were asleep.

When you woke up, you looked around in confusion. Until your eyes fell upon San, walking around with a bundle in his arms, singing softly.

"Look who it is, baby girl." San turned and realised you were awake.

"San..." You began to cry. San put your daughter back in her basinet and came over to you.

"It's okay, you're okay. I got you. I got you." He hugged you tightly, his hand resting on the back of your head. You cried into his shoulder and San felt a lump in his throat too.

"You did so good, baby." San continued to comfort you for as long as you needed.

"Can I see her?"

"Of course you can, baby! You're her mom!" San laughed and went over to pick up the baby that was beginning to fuss. But as San gently laid her on your chest, the baby calmed down. She blinked up at you and you smiled softly.

"Hi there. You're so cute... You're perfect. Did you name her yet?" You cooed and looked up at San, who was smiling at both of you. He shook his head.

"You should name her. You've let me make a lot of decisions in the pregnancy, you should name her." You told him.

"Baby, I let you make those decisions because it was your body, you were the one going through the pregnancy, not me." San laughed.

"But I do have one name that I like. Haeun." He added.

"Haeun, Choi Haeun. I like it. It's perfect for her. Welcome to the world, Haeunnie." You smiled at her. San gave you a kiss then kissed the top of Haeun's head.

Since you woke up, San called Dr Min to come and check on you. At the same time, the nurse taught you how to feed Haeun.

"You gave us a scare earlier but you're fine now, (y/n). Nothing major. However, I was mentioning that I would need you to stay in a little longer just for observations." Dr Min explained. You nodded obediently, too preoccupied with staring at your daughter that was drinking from you hungrily.

"Thanks, Dr Min." You and San bowed your heads as she took her leave. You smiled softly, watching Haeun grasp your finger in her hand as she drank.

"You must have been hungry, my love." You cooed.

"She has a big appetite like her dad." San grinned proudly at you, making you scoff.

After Haeun had her fill, she fell asleep. You couldn't get up so the nurse came in to help you with cleaning her and changing her diaper before wrapping her up in a swaddle.

"Oh, so that's how you do it." San said, looking over at the nurse's actions, his glasses on as he took notes on his phone.

"Hey, grandpa. Can I get a glass of water, please?" You teased. San's head whipped around to glare at you.

"You're lucky you're cute." He glared with a pout as he handed you the water. You grinned cheekily as the nurse placed the swaddled Haeun in the basinet and wheeled her by your side. But San constantly hovered over her.

"Let her sleep. Nothing will happen with her a few inches away from us." You chuckled. You and San enjoyed each other's silence, well it was more like San not being able to take his eyes off Haeun.

"Knock knock." The door opened and Wooyoung poked his head in with the others, all carrying flowers, gift baskets and balloons.

"She's sleeping." San quickly shushed everyone.

"Sorry, overprotective dad over here." You snickered. Hongjoong held up a huge cup of iced coffee for you and you swear you nearly cried at the sight.

"Lifesaver." You whispered gratefully and received the cup in your hands to take a big sip.

"Slow down, baby. You shouldn't finish it in one go." San stopped you, placing his hand to push the cup away from you.

"I pushed a bowling ball out of me. Please just let me have this." You begged. San sighed in defeat and let go, letting you enjoy your coffee. But of course, you did heed his advice and drank slowly.

"Oh my gosh... She's the most perfect little angel." Wooyoung cooed, trying to contain his squeal, leading to him slapping Seonghwa's shoulder. Seonghwa hissed and pushed Wooyoung away. Before they could all get too close, San stepped between them and the basinet, pointing to the sink.

"Wash first." San ordered.

"How are you?" Jongho asked, taking a seat by your side. You assumed San had told everyone about the complication after birth.

"I'm okay now. I think it gave all of us a scare but the doctor stopped the bleeding and I'm fine, just have to stay in here a little longer for observation." You shrugged.

"That's good." Yeosang hummed. You watched as San reluctantly let the boys carry Haeun.

"She's so cute when she sleeps." Yunho cooed over Wooyoung's shoulder.

"I have a feeling everything she does is going to be cute to all of you." You laughed. You trusted San to watch out for Haeun and help the boys properly hold her so you could relax.

"You should rest more. I'm sure you've been through the wringer. We brought you food too." Mingi told you, adjusting your blanket properly. You smiled gratefully, watching Seonghwa take a rice porridge out of the container for you.

"We didn't even ask her name yet." Seonghwa said, wheeling the table close to you so you could eat.

"Her name is Haeun, Choi Haeun." San smiled proudly.

"What a perfect name for a perfect princess." Wooyoung cooed softly at the baby in his arms. After a bit, Haeun woke up and began crying. San patted your hand and went to retrieve her from Wooyoung.

"Don't worry, appa's got you." He swayed, patting her back softly to soothe her.

"He's got it. Eat up, get your energy back." Jongho encouraged. You took a spoon and began eating, glacing over at San and Haeun.

"We should go, give you three time to rest." Hongjoong said, checking his watch. The boys came over to give you hugs while San watched with a frown.

"Stop hugging my wife." He whispered harshly, careful not to disturb the now calm Haeun. Only when he placed her back in the basinet, he happily hugged the members who congratulated him again.

"I can't believe she's finally here. The princess is finally here." San let out little squeaks of happiness as Wooyoung hugged him. Wooyoung nodded with a soft laugh and patted San's back. Everyone was waiting for your baby's arrival, even more so when it was announced that you were having a girl.

"We'll see you soon. Take care." Yunho waved as the boys all left.

"She's asleep, Sannie. You can put her down." You chuckled. San looked up at you with a disappointed smile.

"You can watch her. I want cuddles." You held your arms up. At that, San placed Haeun down and came to you. Luckily the hospital bed was big enough.

"Are you feeling ill? You have to tell me or inform the nurse." He said as you laid on his chest.

"I'm fine, Sannie." You squeezed his arm, snuggling closer to him. San He reached over you and rubbed your back.

"I love you. You did so good, baby. Thank you so much for giving me my princess. Really, thank you. I can't thank you enough." San repeated, planting many kisses on your head.

"There's nothing to thank me for, San. I'm lucky to have you with me and to be the one to have your daughter, you've been the perfect partner. You're such a great dad, she's lucky that she'll have you to raise her." You smiled up at him.

"You always speak so lowly of yourself, my love. I'm lucky to have you and her now. And she has the best mom in the whole wide world. So she's pretty lucky." He said.

"Yeah." You nodded, the both of you looking over at your sleeping child.

"Is it weird that I already love her so much? Like looking at her makes my heart hurts." San asked.

"Not weird, that's called being whipped. Or being a fool for your daughter. She's a few hours old and already has you wrapped around her tiny finger." You lifted up your pinky finger.

"Don't make fun of me." He whined.

"But she's finally here, San. She was inside of me and now, she's right there. She's laying there, sleeping, breathing on her own." You said.

"All thanks to you, baby. Now, you should continue to rest. You're not 100% yet, take all the time you need to recover." San reached over to lower the lights so you could sleep. Since you were still feeling weak, it didn't take long for the tiredness to wash over you and you fell asleep in San's hold.

You were woken up by Haeun's crying but San already jumped out of bed, going to her to scoop her up into his arms. As you turned up the lights, you watched San try to soothe her.

"She could be hungry." You rubbed your eyes tiredly.

"Are you okay to feed her? We can use formula if you still feel weak." San asked with a worried frown.

"I'm fine. I just need the pillow." You said. San nodded and let you carry Haeun while he put the 'U' shaped pillow under Haeun and around your waist so you wouldn't have to carry her full weight.

"Is this okay?" San asked, adjusting the pillow properly. You hummed and fed a fussing Haeun.

"Good girl, Haeun. It's okay." You stroked her head as she drank from you hungrily.

"My poor baby must be tired." San came and reached over, cupping your cheeks. You smiled tiredly, knowing that this is going to be your routine for a while. But it was comforting to see Haeun peacefully drinking and staring up at you.

"Awww, now you're nice and full, aren't you, angel?" You cooed as she released you so you could cover yourself up. Since you were still feeling weak, San helped you with changing her diaper.

"Post birth poops are awful." You groaned.

"Nonsense, my princess' poop doesn't smell at all." San grinned dreamily, cooing at Haeun who squirmed.

"There we go. All done." San gently lifted her up, pressing a kiss to her cheek before placing her back into your arms. Haeun stared at you and you smiled at her.

"Your dad has become such a fool for you, hmm?" You tapped her cheek and she grasped your finger.

"Don't call me a fool in front of her." San scoffed. You smiled cheekily and San reached over to pinch your cheeks for teasing him.

"She's asleep." You shushed San.

"You should sleep too, baby." San waited for you to be ready to hand Haeun over him. Once you did, he placed her back into the basinet and tucked you back into bed, getting in beside you. He couldn't sleep without you by his side too. San softly sang to you until you fell back to sleep.

And over the next few days, San took great care of you and Haeun. He prioritised your recovery and took over so many tasks, making sure you were not pushing yourself.

"Hello?" Wooyoung came in.

"Shh, they both just went to sleep." You said from your spot on the couch, nodding over to where San was asleep in your hospital bed.

"Stealing the patient's bed?" Wooyoung tilted his head with a snort as he looked at his best friend. Despite being asleep, San's hand rested on the edge of Haeun's basinet.

"How are you?" Wooyoung asked, sitting beside you.

"A lot better. Can't wait to discharge tomorrow. But I couldn't have done it without Sannie, he's been taking great care of us." You smiled.

"He is a good partner and dad." Wooyoung agreed with a hum. With San and Haeun sleeping, Wooyoung decided to cut up some fruit for you to eat.

"I'm grateful that Haeun is such an angel baby and I'm not just saying that because I'm her mother. She's so patient and loving, rarely cries except for milk or diaper changes. But I can 100% say, she's a daddy's girl for sure." You giggled.

"Of course she is. San must be ecstatic." Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

"I haven't seen the smile leave his face since the day she was born. Everything she does, he thinks it's the best thing since sliced bread." You smiled at a sleeping San.

"He's a fool for her already. But I can't blame him, she's perfect." Wooyoung shrugged and you pushed his shoulder.

"You are just as big of a fool for her." You accused. But deep down, you were glad that Haeun is going to grow up with love from everyone.

"Look who is awake." You were washing your hands when you realised Haeun had woken up and was just laying there without making a fuss.

"Uncle Wooyoung is here to see you, baby." You lifted Haeun out of the basinet and kissed her cheeks.

"Ack. Luckily we're in a hospital because she's going to give me a heart attack." Wooyoung fangirled as you placed Haeun in his arms.

"Haeun." San shot up, having realised the basinet moved slightly from when you picked Haeun up. His sudden movement had made you jump. He sat up and looked around in slight panic, only to see Wooyoung holding Haeun. He let out a sigh of relief and you went over, standing between his legs.

"She's fine, appa. Wooyoung's got her." You chuckled, running your hands through his messy hair. San put his arms around you to hug you and pressed his face against your middle.

"I didn't even know I fell asleep." He murmured.

"You've been working so hard, taking care of us. You deserve to rest too, Sannie." You comforted him.

"Look at your parents. They're gonna make uncle Woowoo puke." You both looked up to see Wooyoung talking to Haeun, holding her in a way that elevated her to see you two.

"She's smiling." You pointed at Haeun's brief, lopsided smile.

"She just loves uncle Woowoo the most." Wooyoung cooed. San didn't take too well to that comment and marched over.

"My baby." He emphasised, taking Haeun out of Wooyoung's arms. He smiled down at her, planting a kiss to her head. You just shook your head at them.

When it was time to feed Haeun, Wooyoung took his leave. As you sat against the headboard to feed Haeun, San massaged your feet, noting that your ankles were still slightly swollen so he put on compression socks for you.

"Are you still feeling sick?" He asked worriedly.

"No, I feel fine actually. So we can go home tomorrow." You smiled excitedly, looking down at Haeun.

"A-Are you sure? Because if you don't feel right, you should stay for a few more days until you're sure you're 100% well again. Maybe we should speak to Dr Min." San suggested.

"Sannie..." Luckily Haeun finished feeding so you could put her back in her basinet. You moved closer to San.

"What's wrong, Sannie?" You cupped his cheeks with a concern frown. You searched his eyes and all you saw was fear in them.

"I was just really scared. When you lost consciousness, there was so much blood. The doctor and nurses were rushing..." San struggled to breathe and you hugged him, letting him lean on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Sannie..." You hugged his head.

"I thought I was going to lose you..." He muttered softly, hands gripping your waist. You rarely see San cry so seeing him cry and be so vulnerable around you was indicative of how scared he really was. And for San, he always believed that he has to be your rock so he really tried to keep it in.

"You've been through a lot too, Sannie. But we're here for you, both me and Haeun. You don't have to go through this alone." You stroked the back of his head.

"You won't lose me, lose us, so quickly. I love you." You lifted his head and gave him a kiss, caressing his cheek.

"I love you too." San wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to sit on his lap.

"Baby girl's smiling at us." San chuckled. You lifted your head from his chest to see Haeun looking at the both of you, squirming in her wrap but her head turned to smile at you and San.

"Our baby. That's our baby." You smiled softly and San turned his head to meet your eyes, nodding in agreement.

"I still can't believe she's here. No more talking to her through the tummy." San chuckled.

"Well, before you know it, she'll be able to reply to you when you actually talk to her." You said. At your words, San held his chest dramatically, squeezing his eyes shut like he was going to implode at the thought of Haeun growing up.

"Alright, appa... Breathe. Don't have a heart attack here or I'll need to call the nurses." You patted his arm. San pursed his lips and just pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

"Thank you so much, Dr Min." You said as you hugged the doctor, who patted your back.

"Take care of yourself, (y/n)." She chuckled.

"Do we have everything? I feel like we're forgetting something." You heard San in your room, trying to pack up everything, making you and Dr Min giggle.

"You and baby girl will be just fine." Dr Min squeezed your shoulder and left while you entered your ward.

"Everything okay in here?" You asked.

"Just fine, baby. Whatever we forget, we can buy again. As long as I have princess and you, that's most important." San grinned, holding the baby carrier basket with Haeun sleeping soundly inside.

"Want me to carry her? Or get the bags?" You offered. San shook his head, holding Haeun away from you as if you will steal her and run. Even if the doctor cleared you, San didn't believe you were entirely recovered so he didn't want you doing any heavy lifting or anything strenuous. You just walked beside him.

"Also, baby. Even though the news is out that baby girl is born, KQ says that they'll do whatever it takes to keep her picture and name out of the press." San informed.

"Great, remind me to send them a thank you basket." You chuckled as you both walked to the car.

"Are you excited to finally go home with us, princess?" San cooed to Haeun.

"You're asleep and probably don't care as long as there's milk, right?" He continued to talk to her as he loaded the basket into the car seat inserts that he had already installed previously.

"She's so cute when she sleeps." You adjusted her blanket as you sat in the backseat with her while San drove.

"She's cute doing anything, please. She's our child, of course she's cute." San scoffed from the front seat and you shot him a flat look.

You stifled a laugh to yourself, imaging how things are going to be when Haeun grows up, she'll definitely be leading her father by his nose. Well, in his defense, he did warn you about how he would be if you got pregnant with a girl.

"We're home, princess. Home sweet home." San cooed as he helped to remove the carrier from the seat clips. You unlocked the door to your home and took a deep breath.

"Feels good to be home." You let out a content sigh. San chuckled and leaned over to kiss your cheek.

"I need a shower." You groaned. San hummed and let you go. But you didn't want to shower too long, wanting to relieve San for a bit.

"Sannie, I'm-" You came out of the shower to see him fast asleep on the couch, sitting up and holding Haeun to his chest, who was also still asleep.

"Aww, look at you two." You whispered and took your phone to snap a picture, a smile on your face.

Only when Haeun woke up and fussed then San woke up, immediately patting her back to try and soothe her.

"It's okay, appa. Take a break, I've got her." You smiled and took Haeun from him. San nodded with a tired smile and leaned back into the couch to rest. You leaned over to kiss the top of his head before walking to get Haeun's diaper changed. Then you checked if she was hungry before feeding her, sitting in your rocking chair.

"My love. You are so beautiful." You gently stroked her head as she drank from you. You softly hummed 'Mist' to her with a soft smile on your face.

"Thank you for being born." You giggled.

When she was done, you burped her and walked around with her in your arms, still humming to her.

"Look at your appa sleeping. He's been taking such good care of us, baby. He'll protect you and love you forever, you're such a lucky girl." You spoke to Haeun, who blinked up at you.

"My two girls." San woke up, stretching his limbs and yawning as he caught you and Haeun.

"You should sleep more, Sannie." You said, sitting by him.

"I'm good. You should rest more, the birth and everything must have been tiring on you." He stroked your head. You handed Haeun over to him, letting her rest on his chest.

"I'll heat up some food for our dinner. You should skin on skin with her if you can. Dr Min says it'll help." You patted his thigh and went to the kitchen to heat up the food that your mother and San's mother had helped stock in the fridge.

"Auh, go to sleep, precious. It's okay to sleep. Appa is here." You could hear San speak to Haeun.

"You're really destined to be a girl dad, San." You stood at the kitchen entrance, seeing San coax Haeun to sleep. He sat there, shirtless with the small baby against his chest.

"I am. I am destined to be this girl's dad." San agreed, smiling down at Haeun, who was slowly going to sleep.

"ATINY will eat this up if they saw you." You joked. San rolled his eyes but still posed for you to take a picture of him to save.

"So, we're establishing here that you'll be the one to discipline her while I'm the good one that comforts her when she cries right?" San grinned cheekily.

"We'll see about that." You scoffed.

"Thank you, baby. For all that you did and went through for my princess to be born." San leaned over to kiss you.

"You know despite everything, I would do it again. Couldn't have asked for a better partner and we know this girl is the luckiest little girl in the world with such an amazing dad and 7 chaotic, silly but great uncles who will always dote on her." You smiled softly and laid your head on San's shoulder.

"Yes, she will definitely grow up with a lot of chaos. I mean, look at her godfather. He's the definition of chaos." He chuckled.

You nodded, San was right but you knew the boys, especially Wooyoung, would make sure your little girl grows up with all the love in the world.

And that proved to be right because after a day of hanging out with Wooyoung, Haeun came back home and said her first word.

"Sannie!" She lifted her arms up with the biggest grin on her face.

"What did you say, baby?" You stifled a laugh. She repeated it again and you saw San freeze, unsure of how to react. She didn't call him 'appa' but his name was her first word.

"She said her first word." You reminded San.

"Still..." San gave you a look. He was big on respect and traditions, he didn't want Haeun going around calling him by his first name.

"No, not Sannie, princess. Appa. Can you say 'appa'?" San pointed to himself, bending down to her height so he would be at her eye level. You were having a field day and didn't have the heart to correct Haeun, she was just so cute.

"Sannie!" She giggled bashfully. San playfully lifted her up, making her squeal with laughter.

"I'm going to kill Jung Wooyoung." San turned to you.

"Sannie! Sannie!" Haeun gleefully wrapped her arms around San's neck, burying her face against his chest.

[dollniu]

late nite spicy headcanons with niu ! 🌃💋— JJK men

synopsis — part 2 of late nite spicy jjk headcanons with niu !

characters — sukuna, gojo, choso, nanami, toji, ino, higuruma

content — blood play, praise kink, bondage, overstimulation, clothes swap, angry sex, consensual recording, nipple play, oral sex, shower sex, overstimulation, cyber sex, mutual masturbation, office sex, after care, first time, nudes, double penetration, neck kisses, lingerie, spanking, and cuddle sex

info — y’all showed so much love on my first ‘late nite spicy headcanons’ so i thought i’d do another one!

other — MDNI 🔞, if you have any prompt requests or suggestions, feel free to reblog or comment!

SUKUNA — “so pathetic for me, do you need a punishment?”

sukuna lovesss blood, especially the taste of yours. even when you’re on your period, he doesn’t care and will eat you out and even fuck you however he wants. he just loves the taste

his favorite foreplay is sucking on your tits or chest, just playing with your nipple while he sucking, biting, and licking the living shit out of the other 🤭

there’s nothing our king of curses loves more than lingerie, specifically the red lacey ones that put your tits and ass on full display 🤭 he imagines himself ripping them off your body and fucking you right then and there

our two dicked king will double penetrate you regardless of what position y’all are in, fucking you in both wholes makes the experience 10x more pleasurable especially at the fast speed sukuna goes at.. practically breaking you apart

he calls you names like “doll”, “slut”, “pathetic thing”, anything that dehumanizes you and turns u into a play thing for him to toy with

GOJO — “you like it when i’m fucking you like this, princess?”

gojo has plenty of kinks, one of his favorites being handcuffs! specifically on himself, the black fluffy ones are his fav 😚 putting his hands behind his back, on his knees, the intimacy of not knowing what you’ll do to him next is enough to make him cum! touching him, riding him, fucking him, it’s all too much for our sensitive satoru ♥️

occasionally, while he’s teaching or out on a mission, you’ll send him a casual lewd photo which usually leads to him finishing up whatever he’s doing rather quickly… to teleport home and fuck the shit out of you

his favorite place to have sex is in the shower, just showering together is enough for him but being able to push you up against the marble wall while fucking you, the hot steam making it hard to breath, it feels god so good

gojo will call you princess/prince, but in and out of the bedroom!

a single neck kiss can send gojo into a complete horny frenzy, peppering his neck in slow and steady hickeys and kisses drives him absolutely insane, it’s his most sensitive part after all

CHOSO — “please keep using me, just like that..”

there’s nothing choso likes more than pathetic overstimulation, feeling everything at once— fucking you, getting his dick sucked just right, riding him, he can’t help but let out sweet loud moans and whimpers 🤭

choso also lovesss it when your loud, specifically screaming his name. while he’s fucking you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again, your moans just make him fuck you harder !

he has a huge praise kink, loves being called a good boy and will absolutely beg for you to touch him, “i’ll be good, please just touch me- please!”

mutual masturbation is so intimate yet romantic in a way, choso loves fingering you and playing with your clit, hearing how good you sound when he’s pleasuring you. along with getting his dick stroked? he’ll melt 😫

his fav position is cuddle sex for sure, slowly grinding against you just before bed turns into an endless night of cumming from behind you!

NANAMI — “you’re so beautiful beneath me, my love.”

nanami loves making you feel good especially through praise. making you feel special, stroking your hair and guiding you through everything, saying how good your doing, etc etc. he can’t get enough of it

nothing turns him on like when he sees you wearing nothing but his dress shirt that practically looks like a dress on you! it won’t be long till he drags you to the bed and fucks you with it on 😵‍💫

feeling your hands on his chest while you’re riding him is probably one of the best feelings in the world, feeling you scratch at his skin out of pleasure is something he didn’t know he liked till you started doing it

he’ll fuck you on his office desk, just saying. whenever you stop by at work in an outfit that’s a little too revealing he’ll practically drag you to his office and strip you down, pushing you onto his desk and fucking you good.

nanami is hugeee on after-care, like this man will clean you up, cuddle you, bring you water and food, everything to make you feel loved and cared for

TOJI — “i’ll cum in you over and over till i’m tired of it.”

toji is ROUGH, like really rough. he will bite you, shove his tongue down your throat, choke you, all while pounding into you and repeatedly cumming inside of you! (similarly to sukuna!)

he’s prone to fucking you while he’s mad, basically fucking his anger into you which makes him an uncontrollable horny bastard that’ll fuck you till he’s finished 😫

this man lovesss your ass, especially spanking it while fucking you from the back!

he uses his tongue fairly often during sex, which is probably why he likes oral so much. eating you out, making you cum over and over again.. along with licking your sensitive skin while he’s fucking you, he loves the taste of you

toji likes recording him fucking you, in every position, eating you out, fucking you from the back, and especially from the front cause he gets to see you become a complete mess. he keeps them saved on his face just in case you send him a teasing text which you’ll probably regret later

INO — “dont touch me there i’ll- fuck.. cum!”

before you and ino met, he always avoided anything intimate besides casual make out seshs. so his first time with you was absolutely fucking life changing. he was arching his back at the smallest touches, putting in just the tip made him almost cum immediately, he’s extremely sensitive!

ino becomes a blabbering mess during sex, like he genuinely can’t stop talking and mutters quiet “you feel s’fucking good’s”and “god, please don’t stop’s”.

during sex, he can’t help but crack small jokes that make the whole experience 10x funnier, whole time he’s fucking you, y’all are just giggling with moans in between them 🤭

he LOVES EATING PUSSY!! end of story.

ino’s a sucker for titty pics and def jerks off to pics of yours whenever he misses you a little too much.. he’s a little perv that can’t control his desires for you!

HIGURUMA — “dear, if you keep looking at me like that i won’t be able to control myself.”

he’ll let you ride that big nose and we all know it! i’ll make this known till i die, higuruma’s favorite sex position is when your sitting right on his face, grinding your clit against his nose as he explores your cunt with his tongue

he can’t control himself when you beg for him, looking up at him with pleading eyes that are wet with tears, drives him absolutely crazy

higuruma is usually away at work for long periods of time, sometimes making it home only for you to be already asleep :( so whenever he’s out for the night and staying at a hotel, a quick facetime call of pleasuring yourself all night long does just the job

he has a thing for you being on your knees for him, especially eye contact. he likes squeezing your checks and holding up your face to look at his regardless of how embarrassing it is for you because seeing how much of a mess you are is just what higuruma needs for him to cum in you!

you’ve had bath tub sex with him far too many times, with and without a suit on. the warm water while your bouncing on his dick is just what our overworked lawyer needs after a long day at work 😵‍💫

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Baby You're Perfect

LADS Men handling their plus size MC who is feeling insecure about her body. A/N: Let me preface this by saying The LADS Men love YOU no matter what you look like(and so do I). Remember MC is YOUUUUU. You are the main character yes you reading this. You're a baddie flash me a titty bitch. (There's love behind that 'bitch')

Zayne

"Don't you think you'd be happy with someone ... Skinnier?" Zayne looks at you with a puzzled expression. He couldn't understand where this was coming from. "What do you mean?"

"Well you know...." Your voice trailed off not knowing how to word what you were saying without making it sound like you were trying to break up. "I don't please tell me"

You wrung your hands in front of you trying to calm your scattered brain. "I just think I'd be prettier if I was skinny ... what do you think?" Zayne stares back at you taking in your features which only caused you to become even more nervous. "Is that what you want?"

"Don't answer my question with a question" You narrowed your eyes at him. He simply chuckled before pinching your cheek. "So cute." You slapped his hand away rolling your eyes. You were quickly becoming annoyed at how it seemed like he was avoiding answering your question. You were three seconds away from storming out of the room in embarrassment when he spoke again. "I love you just the way you are MC have I ever made you feel as though I don't?"

"Well no..."

"I think if you want to lose weight because it would make you happy I will gladly attend gym sessions with you" He gently grabs your hand bringing it to his mouth and placing a soft kiss on your knuckles.

Butterflies.

He quickly followed up his gentle kiss with a soft kiss to your neck before leaning in and whispering in your ear. "However, if you want to lose weight because you think that's what I'd like then maybe I'm not worshipping you enough"

Rafayel

"What are you doing?" You jumped at Rafayel sneaking up behind you. He had caught you red handed squeezing your love handles while twisting and turning looking at yourself in the mirror. "Why are you moving in silence like that?"

"You answer my question first" He crossed his arms over his chest; leaning against the doorframe. "I'm just ... not feeling confident today..." You said turning back to face the full length mirror. Your reflection stared back at you as you stood there in nothing but a matching bra and panty set. "I wanted to surprise you with this new set, but-"

"But what?" Rafayel approached you wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. "I feel like I'm built like a bus driver" Rafayel couldn't hold back his laughter. He pfffft all in your ear hunching over squealing with laughter. "Its not funny!"

"I'm not laughing at you cutie I'm laughing at the way you described it" He collected himself and went back to hugging you from behind swaying you from side to side as he kissed your temple. "Believe me" He locked eyes with you in the mirror "You are art personified beloved I could stare at you for hours and never get tired of what I'm looking at"

Xavier

You were sat up leaning against the headboard in Xaviers bed as he laid between your legs with his arms wrapped around your waist. "Stop that" You met his blue eyes with confusion in yours. "Stop what?" Xavier tilted his chin towards your restless hands that kept smoothing up and down your thighs. "You do that every time you start overthinking"

"I'm not overthinking ... I'm just thinking" You replied defensively. "About?" The words were caught in your throat as Xavier stared with narrowed eyes awaiting your response. "I think I need to lose weight..."

"You don't need to do anything except breathe and die" You rolled your eyes at his response before tugging on the hem of your shirt. "You honestly believe I wouldn't be prettier if I was skinny?"

"Baby you're perfect ... I know I would love you no matter what" Before you could respond with another remark about yourself he gently started rubbing circles on your back with his thumb and continued "You care too much about what others think all that matters is what you think ... you have to spend the rest of your life with yourself ... why not fall in love with you? ... I fell in love with you and I will never regret it"

Sylus

Sylus grabbed your hand spinning you around so fast you didn't even have time to catch yourself. He pinned your arms behind you and pressed his chest into yours. "What do you think you're doing?" You stared back at him with your heart beating out of your chest. You didn't hear him come into your shared bedroom on the Onychinus base. "I- I w-was just"

"Take your time" He said with a softness in his eyes, but his iron grip never wavered. "I was just trying to suck in my stomach to see if I would look better you know...."

"I don't"

"Skinny! If I was skinny or at least a little thinner" Finally he released your hands as he crossed his arms over his chest eyeing you. On the outside you stood tall under his scrutinizing stare, but inside your nerves were going haywire. "And why do you want to lose weight?"

"Nothing fits me-"

"That's what tailoring is for" He cut you off with a matter of fact tone.

"Well what if people see us and think-"

Cutting you off again "Once you realize the you are a background character in ninety-nine percent of the worlds lives your life will get much easier." Your mouth snapped shut as he continued "You can't worry about what others think of you or you will stunt your own growth in life." Your eyes fell as you tried to soak up his words. He grabbed you by the chin as he tilted your head up and leaned down to make eye contact.

"Once you find those you care about and those who care about you that's all that matters" He poked your forehead before standing back to his full height. "And don't worry until you learn to fully love yourself I will love you enough for the both of us ... there's no love purer than mine."

[lidiasloca]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a little Azriel x reader story, where he comes from a mission injured but tries to hide it from everyone (especially from her (reader)) because he doesn't want them to worry. But then things get complicated and she finds out and is so angry at him for trying to hide it. And then she goes into mother hen mode and takes care of him and it's just pure fluff🥺

Thank you🥰

healing azriel's wounds

azriel x reader

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, your words a mix of frustration and worry. 

“I didn’t want you to worry, Y/N. Since we are newly mated, I knew you’d be… well — like this,” Azriel replies, a painful look on his face as you clean up his wound. You rely on the steadiness in your well-practiced hands, but still, no matter how good of a healer you are, you feel unsure every time you get close to his wounded chest. He is your mate, after all.

“Worried for my mate?” you ask, anger flooding into your heart for the way he treats this as nonsense. “This cut is almost bone-deep, Azriel. What were you thinking?” Your voice breaks at the last bit, and Azriel finally seems to worry — maybe not for the wound, but for you.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes as you start stitching the cut. You have to look away from his pained eyes, only focusing on the meticulous movement of your hands. “Really, I—”

“Hush,” you order with a hint of sweetness. “It’s fine. Just… don’t ever do it again.”

“I promise,” he replies, and, at last, you move your eyes to meet his. 

You are still mad at him for putting his life at risk, but still, you are grateful he is, at last, fine. You didn’t tell him often, but it killed you every time he left for a mission. You always worried he might come home with a wound like this. Or maybe he would never return home.

“Please don’t cry,” he pleads with a hoarse voice, trying to sit up now that you’ve finished stitching him.

“Then don’t give me reasons to cry,” you mumble between sobs. Maybe he is right. Maybe being recently mated made you much more vulnerable to things like this.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, reaching out to stroke your cheek.

“Don’t move. The stitches are fresh.”

But he doesn’t seem to care one bit. “Please forgive me, Y/N.”

You watch him for a minute, reading the sorrow and regret in his eyes. “Never again,” you warn in a weak voice.

“Never again. I promise.”

-Characters by Sarah J Maas

a/n: pls send requests!

[kookiewithluv]

✿—✧SPACE BETWEEN US✧—✿

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader

Genre: college au, friends to lovers, fluffy (?), angst

Trigger warning: it's super cringe!

Word count: 9k

Summary: You have been in love with Jungkook for ages but never said anything. When a surprise date turns into a dramatic showdown, his hidden feelings come crashing to the surface.

a/n: The characters and situations depicted in this chapter are fictional and are intended for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The portrayal of emotions and interpersonal dynamics is a creative interpretation and should not be taken as a reflection of real-life relationships or events.a/n: Do not use this story as your own. I don't allow translations or reposting of my work on any platform, including YouTube.

a/n: Yes, you're probably experiencing déjà vu—I'm reposting this without a single edit. After my last account got suspended for reasons beyond my control, I figured what better way to kick off my return than by sharing one of my cringiest fanfics? Honestly, it's pretty on-brand for me, don't you think?

All Rights Reserved ©

@kookiewithluv 2024

You sat in your classroom, the hum of idle chatter around you barely registering. The lecture wouldn’t start for another thirty minutes, but you couldn’t care less. You just needed to be alone. The weight of recent events pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket, leaving you numb and confused. Your mind raced, thoughts tangled in a mess you couldn’t unravel.

Your phone vibrated on the desk, the screen lighting up with notifications. You glanced at it: 200+ texts and 28 missed calls from Jungkook. Without a second thought, you picked up the phone, turned it off, and set it back down. You didn’t want to deal with it, with him, with anything. Time seemed to blur as you sat there, your heart aching, your eyes glassy. But the tears wouldn’t come. They just sat there, stuck, like everything else inside you.

“Blush? Blush, are you okay?” Jungkook’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, as he spoke beside you.

You flinched, startled out of your thoughts. You hadn’t even noticed him sit down. Turning to face him, you were met with a sight that made your chest tighten. He looked so soft, so pretty in that moment—his pink lips curved into a worried pout, his hair falling messily over his forehead, half-covering those big doe eyes that seemed to shine even more because of it.

He reached out, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder, and called your name again. “Blush,” he said, the nickname rolling off his tongue like a quiet prayer. But you knew better. You did.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. You just shook your head and forced a small smile, turning away. What were you supposed to say? That you were what was wrong? That you’d fallen for him, knowing he’d never be there to catch you? The words were right there, lodged in your throat, but you swallowed them down, feeling them settle heavy and painful in your stomach. The ache clawed at your insides, begging for release, but you took a deep breath, holding everything in.

Jungkook was still watching you, his gaze piercing through the walls you were trying so hard to build. He gently cupped your face, turning you back to look at him. “Eyes on me. I’m talking,” he said, his tone soft but firm. The way his thumb brushed your cheek was so tender it almost broke you.

“You should—” he began, but the classroom door creaked open, and students started to file in, breaking the moment. He pulled back, checking the time, and you followed his gaze. Just as you both expected, Professor Min walked in, signaling the start of class. Relief washed over you, grateful for the distraction, for the escape. You silently thanked Mr. Min for his impeccable timing.

As the lesson began, you tried to focus, but your mind kept drifting back to Jungkook, to the conversation you’d narrowly avoided. Your chest felt tight, your heart heavy, but you pushed it all down, forcing yourself to stay composed.

The class went on, but all you could think about was how close you’d come to spilling everything. And how you still couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Class ended earlier than expected. Mr. Min had cut the lecture short, saying he had something urgent to attend to. The moment his words left the room, you were already packing up, hands moving frantically as you stuffed your notebook and pens into your bag. Your movements were jerky, almost desperate, as if the faster you moved, the quicker you could escape.

Jungkook was right beside you, his presence heavy like a storm cloud about to break. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel his gaze, those eyes you usually found so comforting now burning holes into you. As you zipped up your bag, you felt his fingers twitch, like he was about to reach out, but you didn’t give him the chance.

You bolted for the door, your steps quick and purposeful. Just as you reached the threshold, his voice—a smooth, velvety sound that usually made your heart skip—called out your name.

“Blush,” he said, soft and hopeful.

But you didn’t stop. You didn’t turn around. You didn’t even acknowledge him. For the first time, you ran away from him. Your heart hammered in your chest, each beat a painful reminder of what you were doing, but you couldn’t stop.

The hallway blurred as you hurried through it, eyes fixed straight ahead, refusing to look back. You knew he was still there, standing in the doorway, probably confused, maybe even hurt. But you couldn’t deal with that now. You just needed to be alone.

When you reached the canteen, you went straight to the farthest corner, away from the clusters of students laughing and chatting. You dropped into a chair, slumping down as you pulled the hood of Jungkook’s hoodie over your head, trying to hide from the world. Your hands fiddled with the hem of the hoodie, twisting and tugging at the fabric as if it could somehow ground you, make everything go away.

You curled in on yourself, your head bowed low, eyes fixed on your trembling hands. The familiar scent of Jungkook still clung to the hoodie, but instead of comfort, it brought a fresh wave of pain. You bit your lip, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill over.

In that moment, the bustling canteen felt a million miles away. All you could focus on was the way your heart ached, the way it felt like something inside you was slowly breaking apart. You wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything to release the pressure building up inside you, but instead, you just sat there, hiding beneath the hoodie that was his, trying to hold yourself together, trying to breathe.

You were drowning in your thoughts, the noise around you fading into nothingness. A voice yanked you back to reality, snapping the delicate thread of your spiralling mind. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

A light touch on your shoulder—soft, almost hesitant—tried to pull your attention. She already had it, though she didn’t realize it, because you still hadn’t looked at her. She stood to your left, leaning in slightly.

“Are you okay?” Lilith asked, her voice laced with concern. You kept your eyes down, refusing to meet hers.

Lilith. The campus beauty queen. The girl everyone adored. The girl who loved Jungkook. And everyone knew it, too. They rooted for them to be together, whispering about how perfect they’d be. The thought made your stomach churn, a bitter taste rising in your mouth. You hated it.

She continued, her tone gentle but insistent. “Jungkookie is worried about you. He was searching everywhere for you. You should talk to him. Should I call him—”

Your blood boiled at the sound of that nickname. Jungkookie. He hated that name, had told you so many times how much he despised it but never her. she kept calling him that, oblivious or maybe just indifferent. You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms as you struggled to keep your anger in check.

“No,” you practically yelled, the word bursting out before you could stop it. Lilith flinched, her eyes wide with shock. She pulled her hand back, her fingers twitching nervously. But you didn’t care. You didn’t feel guilty. All you felt was anger—anger at yourself for losing control, and a burning hatred for her.

Without another word, you grabbed your bag, roughly shoving it over your shoulder as you pushed past her. She stumbled back slightly, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something, but you didn’t give her the chance. You stormed out of the canteen, your chest heaving with frustration.

The fresh air outside did little to calm you. You headed straight for the parking area, your steps quick and determined, each one pounding out the anger inside you. When you reached your car, you spotted it immediately and hurried over, yanking the door open.

You slid into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind you. For a moment, you just sat there, your breathing harsh and uneven. Then, with a frustrated groan, you tossed your bag onto the passenger seat, not caring where it landed. Everything felt too tight, too overwhelming. You buried your face in your hands, your fingers curling into your hair as you tried to steady yourself.

But the anger wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t let go. It bubbled just beneath the surface, a constant, throbbing ache that wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t ease. And all you could think about was how much you wished it would just disappear. How much you wished everything would just disappear.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to push all the swirling thoughts out of your head. With a quick motion, you pressed down on the accelerator, and the car roared to life beneath you. You didn’t hesitate as you started driving, focusing on the road ahead, wanting to leave everything behind.

But as you drove away, something caught your eye in the rearview mirror. Jungkook. He was running after your car, his face a mix of desperation and panic. You could see his mouth moving, probably yelling your name, but the sound was lost to the roar of the engine and the rush of blood in your ears. You didn’t stop. You didn’t even slow down. You just kept going, watching as he grew smaller and smaller in the mirror until he disappeared from view.

The ride home was anything but peaceful. The guilt gnawed at you, sinking its claws deeper with every passing mile. You tried to push it away, to convince yourself that you were right to leave, that you needed space. But the image of Jungkook’s face, the way he’d run after you, wouldn’t leave your mind. You’d ignored him all day, and you knew it must’ve hurt him. But you shook your head, refusing to dwell on it. You couldn’t handle that right now.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, the silence of your empty house greeted you. You parked the car in the garage, the engine’s hum dying down as you cut the power. The quiet was suffocating as you walked into the house, the echo of your footsteps bouncing off the walls. Your parents weren’t home. Again. Even though they had promised they would be. You let out a bitter chuckle, shaking your head at your own foolishness. Why did I even believe them? you thought. It was your birthday tomorrow, and once again, they weren’t there. Meetings, parties—whatever it was, it was always more important.

You made your way to the living room and sank down onto the couch, turning on the TV in a half-hearted attempt to distract yourself. But nothing on the screen held your attention. The images blurred together, the voices just white noise in the background. Your mind was too cluttered, too full of everything that had happened today, to make sense of anything playing out in front of you.

Frustrated, you got up and headed to your room, the emptiness of the house pressing down on you with every step. You didn’t have the energy to cook, the thought of food making your stomach twist. “Guess I’ll sleep hungry tonight,” you muttered to yourself, a hollow laugh escaping your lips.

You collapsed onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of your own breathing. But sleep didn’t come. No matter how much you tossed and turned, your mind wouldn’t quiet down. Thoughts of Jungkook, your parents, the loneliness that seemed to cling to you like a shadow—it all kept swirling in your head, refusing to let you rest.

You curled up under the covers, pulling them tightly around you as if they could shield you from the thoughts that wouldn’t leave you alone. But no matter how hard you tried, the weight of the day wouldn’t let you go. And so, you lay there, eyes wide open, the darkness around you feeling like a reflection of the emptiness inside.

You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as the room was cloaked in darkness. The silence around you was heavy, oppressive, and as the memory of the day crashed down on you, the tears began to flow uncontrollably, streaming down your face at an unusual speed.

Tomorrow was supposed to be special—your birthday. Even if your parents weren’t around, you’d convinced yourself that Jungkook’s presence would make it memorable. This morning, you’d been brimming with excitement. But all of that shattered the moment you stepped onto the college campus.

The crowd had been the first thing you noticed—a sea of students gathered in an unusually large cluster. Your curiosity had drawn you toward it, and you’d squeezed through the masses, pushing past eager onlookers until you reached the front. What you saw made your heart sink.

Lilith and Jungkook stood there, framed by the throng of students. Lilith held a bouquet of flowers, her face radiant with a hopeful smile as she offered it to him. The sight was enough to tell you what was happening. She was proposing. Your heart twisted with a mix of dread and hope as you watched Jungkook. He looked visibly distressed, his hands trembling slightly as he took the bouquet. A flicker of hope ignited in you that he might reject her, but the moment he accepted the flowers, that hope was dashed. The crowd erupted in cheers, and your heart shattered into pieces.

As if the scene couldn't get any worse, it did. The crowd began chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” The noise was deafening, each cheer driving the knife of betrayal deeper into your heart. Jungkook’s face flushed with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. He grabbed Lilith’s hand and tugged her away from the crowd, leading her toward a more private corner. You knew it wasn’t about him not wanting to kiss her in public; it was about him wanting to keep those private moments just for himself, away from prying eyes.

Recalling the memory now, as tears flowed freely and uncontrollably, your heart felt like it was being squeezed tight. The image of Jungkook’s nervous expression and Lilith’s hopeful eyes replayed in your mind, each scene a fresh cut. The darkness of your room mirrored the darkness in your heart, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on you with crushing force.

You clutched the pillow to your chest, your sobs muffled but relentless. Each breath came in shaky bursts, and you could feel the tears soaking through the fabric. The tears and the pain were all-consuming, leaving you with nothing but the hollow ache of rejection and betrayal. The silence of the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of your own brokenhearted sobs.

It’s funny how quickly things change. The person who once made your heart flutter with joy now seemed to be the source of all your misery. But it wasn’t his fault. He had no idea of your feelings. You never told him, and now you were left with nothing but regret.

The minutes dragged on with torturous slowness. The clock still hadn’t hit 10, and you were restless, your body aching from the weight of your emotions. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, and closed your eyes, hoping to find some semblance of peace. Yet, amid the turmoil, a small spark of hope flickered within you. Maybe, just maybe, Jungkook would call when the clock struck midnight. Maybe, as he had done in the past, he would stand on your doorstep with a big bouquet of daisies, because he knew how much you loved them.

Hope brought with it a tangled mess of uncertainty and fear. Part of you desperately wished for him to come, to see him standing there with that familiar, warm smile. But another part of you feared what that would mean. If he showed up, you knew you might not be able to hold yourself back. The thought of begging him to love you, to confess your feelings, terrified you. You wanted nothing more than to be happy for your best friend, the one you loved with all your heart, without letting your own desires ruin his moment.

As these conflicting thoughts swirled in your mind, you became increasingly aware of the exhaustion that weighed down on you. Your body, worn out from the emotional rollercoaster, finally succumbed to sleep. You hadn’t noticed when the weariness took over, but soon you were drifting off, your breathing evening out as the turbulent storm of your mind began to settle into a restless slumber.

The harsh buzz of the alarm clock jolted you awake. You reached out with a groggy hand to silence it, grumbling under your breath. As you blinked your eyes open, a dull ache throbbed in your head, and you winced at the sting of light. Your eyes felt like they were weighed down by sandbags, red and swollen from hours of restless sleep.

With a groan, you rolled out of bed, stumbling toward the bathroom. Each step felt heavy, your body dragging as if weighed down by an invisible burden. You shuffled into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror with a sense of numb resignation. The sight that met you was far from flattering. Your hair was a tangled mess, and your face was puffy and pale. You let out a shaky breath, your reflection mocking you. "Happy birthday, ugly," you muttered to yourself, bitterness lacing your voice.

You turned on the faucet and splashed cold water onto your face, hoping to wash away the remnants of the night’s tears. The brisk water was invigorating but did little to lift the fog in your mind. You brushed your teeth mechanically, the familiar routine providing a small comfort. As you stepped into the shower, the warm water hit your skin, but it did little to soothe the ache inside you.

Your thoughts kept drifting back to Jungkook. You’d hoped he’d come by, as he used to, or at least send a message. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear you were wrong. You chuckled bitterly at your own foolishness.

He hadn’t called.

Not even a text.

It was as if you’d been erased from his life, replaced by someone new.

Finishing up in the shower, you turned off the water and stepped out, feeling cold despite the warmth of the steam. You walked to your closet with a heavy heart and pulled on a simple white tee and blue baggy jeans. You chose a pair of Jordan shoes, not because you don't felt like dressing up, but because you couldn’t muster the energy for anything more. The effort felt pointless when it seemed no one remembered or cared about your birthday.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you dressed, and the image reflected the hollow ache you felt inside. With a resigned sigh, you walked out of your room, ready to face another day, feeling like a forgotten afterthought.

You hurried out of your house, barely pausing to lock the door behind you. The cold morning air bit at your cheeks as you slid into the driver's seat of your car. Your movements were mechanical, driven by a deep-seated weariness. You started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, the rumble of the car filling the silence of your thoughts.

As you drove to college, Jungkook’s image was a persistent shadow in your mind. Each turn of the wheel seemed to echo with memories of him—his laughter, his smile, and the sting of his absence. You gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white, as you fought to keep your emotions in check. There was an undercurrent of nervousness you couldn’t quite place, a fluttering uncertainty that made your heart race for reasons you couldn’t define.

The drive felt endless, each minute dragging by as you replayed yesterday’s events. By the time you pulled into the college parking lot, you were nearly suffocating with frustration and sadness. You parked your car with swift, jerky movements, almost slamming the gearshift into park.

Stepping out of the car, you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the melancholy that clung to you. The walk from the parking lot to the campus felt like a trek through a fog. Your eyes were downcast, your footsteps heavy as you made your way through the bustling campus. You barely registered the chatter and movement around you, lost in your own turmoil.

You finally reached the canteen, its familiar smell of coffee and breakfast foods mixing with the lingering bitterness in your heart. As you pushed through the doors, the chatter and clatter of trays and dishes surrounded you, but you barely noticed. You moved through the crowded room, shoulders hunched, eyes focused on the path ahead. Finding a spot at a table, you sank into a chair, tossing your bag on the table, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you, as if the whole world was a muted blur around you.

You took a deep breath, getting up and walking to the counter, eyes scanning the options in front of you. The canteen menu was as uninspiring as ever, but hunger gnawed at your stomach, reminding you of your own laziness for not cooking anything. With a resigned sigh, you grabbed a plate of waffles and a cup of coffee, the safest bets in this lackluster spread. After paying, you turned to head back to your table, but something made you freeze mid-step.

There he was—Jungkook. His eyes darted anxiously around the canteen, scanning faces, moving with a restless urgency that made your heart skip a beat. For a brief moment, the urge to bolt gripped you, to just turn around and leave before he spotted you. But you shook your head, grounding yourself. He wasn't looking for you. He was probably searching for his new girlfriend, Lilith. The thought stung, but you swallowed it down and continued back to your table.

You set the plate and coffee down with a soft clatter, sinking into your seat. Just as you lifted the cup to your lips, ready to lose yourself in the warmth of the coffee, you heard it—his voice cutting through the chatter of the canteen.

"Blush. Blush."

His nickname for you.

His footsteps followed, growing louder as they neared. Your breath caught in your throat as you set the cup back down, unable to take that sip.

In no time, Jungkook was standing right in front of you, his presence commanding, and something was different. You forced yourself to look up at him, your eyes meeting his, only to be met with an expression that sent a shiver down your spine.

Anger? Why did he look angry?

His brow was furrowed, jaw tight, and his eyes—those usually warm, comforting eyes—were now darkened with frustration. You couldn't understand it. What did he have to be angry about? Confusion churned in your gut, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, words failing you. The air between you felt charged, heavy with unspoken tension, and you could feel the weight of his gaze bearing down on you, waiting for an explanation you didn't have.

"Why are you ignoring me?" Jungkook’s voice softened as he gazed at you, the anger in his eyes fading into something that looked like sadness. He tossed his bag onto the table beside yours with a thud, then crouched down in front of you, his gaze never leaving your face.

Before you could react, he reached out, grabbing the sides of your chair and turning it to face him. His hands found yours, gripping them tightly, as if afraid you might slip away. The intensity of his touch sent a jolt through you, weakening your resolve. It was a good thing you were already sitting, or your legs might have given out beneath you.

"Blush," he whispered, his voice so soft it barely reached your ears. The sound of your nickname on his lips made your heart clench painfully. God, you loved him—so much it hurt. But what did it matter? You couldn’t tell him. He had a girlfriend now. You reminded yourself of this bitter truth, feeling the familiar ache of heartbreak settling in your chest.

You closed your eyes, trying to steady your racing heart. Taking a deep breath, you attempted to pull your hands away from his, but he only held on tighter, his grip almost desperate. It was as if he feared losing you, like you were the one thing keeping him grounded. The intensity of his hold made your heart ache even more. Could it be? No, you must be imagining things.

"Why?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly. "Why are you doing this? I’m trying to talk to you, and you’re just… not talking to me. You ignored me yesterday too."

His words hung in the air, heavy with confusion and hurt. You stared down at your intertwined hands, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. What could you say? There were no words that could fix this. The truth was too painful to speak. You just wanted to disappear, to be anywhere but here. The realization that he didn’t even remember your birthday only twisted the knife deeper. You felt like crumbling into pieces, but you stayed silent, holding back the storm of emotions threatening to escape.

You wanted to ask him if he even remembered it was your birthday. Did he really forget you in just one day after getting a girlfriend? It wasn’t about him not loving you or you loving him—that was a secret you’d buried deep. But you were best friends. Did he forget that too? How could he stand here, blaming you, while he acted like nothing was wrong?

But you didn’t ask any of those questions. The words that escaped your lips were far different, softer, weaker. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook’s gaze locked onto yours, searching for something—maybe an explanation, maybe an apology. You couldn't tell.

“I was just… It’s… My parents aren’t home. And I was feeling sad and lonely,” you lied, trying to force a convincing smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

For a moment, his eyes softened, the tension in his shoulders easing. He seemed to believe you, and that only made your heart crack a little more. Where had that Jungkook gone? The one who could see through your smiles, who always knew when something was wrong even before you did. The boy who used to notice the sadness hidden behind your laughter was gone, replaced by someone who couldn’t even spot the lie on your lips.

He nodded, his grip on your hands loosening slightly. “I get it,” he said, his voice softer now, more understanding. But he didn’t get it. Not really. He didn’t see the pain you were hiding, the way your heart was shattering piece by piece.

You swallowed hard, biting back the words you wanted to scream. Instead, you just nodded, letting him believe the lie, even though it tore you apart inside.

Jungkook stood up and gently patted your head, his touch warm but distant. "It will be okay, hmm?" he said, his voice soft, almost comforting. You nodded, feeling like a fool. Will it ever be okay? No, it won’t. It can never be okay. You loved him too much for things to be okay. This love was too deep, too consuming to ever fade. The only way for it to end would be for you to end, or else this love would live on inside you forever. That thought terrified you—the idea of loving him for eternity, never being able to touch him, while time made him forget you. And yet, you'd be left with nothing but memories, trapped in a loop of unrequited feelings.

“Blush?” His voice pulled you back to the present, soft and filled with concern. He smiled at you, that sweet smile he always reserved just for you. But now, that smile only reminded you that he wasn’t yours anymore—if he ever truly was. Nothing about him belonged to you, and maybe it never did. You were just fooling yourself, weren’t you?

“Don’t think much. It’ll be fine. I promise.” His fingers brushed your face, his thumb tracing lightly over your nose—a gesture that used to make you laugh, that used to light up your world. But now, it only made you want to cry.

You forced a smile, the corners of your mouth lifting just enough to convince him, even though your heart was breaking inside. His touch, his words—they were meant to soothe you, but they only made the ache worse. You wanted to believe him, to cling to the hope he offered, but deep down, you knew better. Nothing would ever be the same again.

Jungkook smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he pulled a chair closer to you and sat down. His happiness was infectious, but it only added to the heaviness in your chest.

"I have something for you," he said, his voice laced with excitement. "want to see it?"

You didn’t really want to see it. The weight of exhaustion was already pressing down on you, making you feel dizzy and drained. All you wanted was for him to leave, for this feeling of doom to pass. But you nodded anyway, forcing yourself to respond.

When his eyes lit up at your response, a small part of you felt a flicker of happiness. You watched as he reached for his bag, your gaze following the movements of his hands, wondering what he was up to.

He pulled out a large box of chocolates, and a genuine smile finally touched your lips. For a moment, the weight in your heart lightened just a little. You looked up at him, trying to match his enthusiasm.

"I know you love these," he said, holding the box out to you, "and I thought you were angry at me, so I needed to make it up to you."

You took the box from him, managing a laugh. "I wasn’t angry, but thanks," you said, your voice a mix of gratitude and something else—something you couldn’t quite name. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture tender and familiar, making your heart ache even more.

But despite the sweetness of the gesture, the happiness didn’t quite reach your heart. A box of chocolates wasn’t enough to make up for what you really wanted—a simple “Happy Birthday” from him. Yet, you pushed those thoughts aside and leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, thanking him for the gift.

As he patted your head soothingly, you closed your eyes, willing yourself to feel the comfort he was trying to offer. But deep down, you knew that nothing could fill the emptiness inside you—not the chocolates, not his touch, not even the sound of his heartbeat close to yours.

You pulled back from the hug, your eyes lingering on his, those big doe eyes that seemed to hold the universe in them. He was everything you could ever want, the very definition of perfection. And maybe that’s why you couldn’t have him. He deserved someone better—someone like her.

He smiled at you, a warm, affectionate smile, and playfully squeezed your cheeks. Just as he was about to say something, a voice interrupted from behind.

“Jungkookie!” Lilith’s voice, sickly sweet and sharp, pierced through the air, making you wince.

Jungkook’s head snapped around, and he smiled at her, his entire demeanor shifting in an instant. She came striding towards you both, her high heels clicking loudly on the floor. Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise, and even you felt a twinge of concern that she might stumble and fall flat on her face. But she didn’t.

And as much as you hated to admit it, a small part of you was disappointed that she didn’t fall. You wanted her to.

In no time, she was standing in front of Jungkook, her hand sliding into his as she pulled him to his feet. It all happened so quickly, like a flash of lightning. One moment he was sitting with you, his hands gently cupping your cheeks, and the next, he was standing beside her, her arms wrapped possessively around his left arm.

He brushed her arms away, his expression softening as he bent down to your level. “Look, I’ve got to go now. I… I have something important to do. Take care and eat the chocolates, okay?”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you with nothing but a box of chocolates and the emptiness gnawing at your chest.

You stared at the chocolates, the sweetness now a bitter reminder of everything you wanted but couldn’t have. It wasn’t the chocolates you craved—it was him. But all you got was this, while she… she had everything you wanted.

You turned deliberately back to your food, your appetite gone, but you forced yourself to eat anyway. The food tasted like ash in your mouth, but you swallowed it down, trying to fill the void that only seemed to grow with each bite.

The day dragged on, each hour blurring into the next. You didn’t see Jungkook again—not that you expected to. He was probably busy with his new girlfriend, and though you told yourself you didn’t care, the truth was harder to swallow. You cared. You cared too much. But you were tired of admitting it, even to yourself.

Finally, the day came to an end. You packed up your things, barely aware of your surroundings as you walked down the corridor, out of the building, and into the parking lot. Spotting your car, you headed straight for it, tossing your bag onto the passenger seat with a sigh.

Just as you were about to start the engine, you heard someone call your name. You glanced out the window and saw a guy waving at you. When your eyes met, he jogged over to your car, his expression nervous but determined.

Standing beside your car, he smiled awkwardly. “Hey! You probably know me…”

You shook your head, and his face flushed a deep shade of red. “That’s okay, I’m Jay. We’re in the same class. Literature?”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue, feeling the weight of his nervous energy in the air. He took a deep breath, then suddenly blurted out, “Will you go on a date with me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. His words hung in the air, and you processed them in stunned silence. But as you remained quiet, you saw the panic start to creep into his eyes, his breath quickening. Realizing he might be spiraling, you quickly stepped out of your car and placed a gentle hand on his arm, offering a reassuring smile.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you said softly, trying to ease his nerves. “You don’t need to worry.”

He looked at you, relief washing over his face, though he still seemed uncertain. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. I’ll understand. You—”

His eyes lit up, a mixture of surprise and happiness flashing across his face. “Perfect! I’ll pick you up at 7 from your house.”

Your smile faltered slightly, the thought of giving out your address making you uneasy. “No, it’s okay. I’ll meet you there. Just send me the address.”

You exchanged phone numbers, his excitement almost contagious as he nodded eagerly. You still didn’t know him well. But at least this was something different, something that might distract you from everything else.

As you drove home, your thoughts drifted back to Jungkook and the emptiness that had taken root in your heart. But maybe, just maybe, it was time to try something new. To have a little fun, even if it was just to forget the pain, even if only for a night.

Time blurred by, and before you knew it, the clock struck six. Your phone buzzed with a text from Jay, providing the address of the restaurant. You glanced at the message before quickly getting ready, slipping into a simple black dress—nothing fancy, but short enough to make an impression. With one last look in the mirror, you grabbed your keys and headed out.

The drive to the restaurant was uneventful, your mind wandering as you navigated the familiar streets. When you arrived, the small vintage-themed restaurant immediately caught your eye. It was charming, with a warm, inviting atmosphere that made you smile. You stepped inside, scanning the room until you spotted Jay sitting in the corner, waving at you enthusiastically. You had to stifle a laugh—waving seemed to be his signature move.

You walked over, and as you approached, he quickly stood up and pulled out your chair with a shy grin. “Quite a gentleman, aren’t you?” you teased, unable to resist. His cheeks flushed pink, and he mumbled, “You look really beautiful.”

Settling into your seat, you felt a small flutter of satisfaction at his compliment. He ordered food for both of you, and the conversation began to flow naturally. Jay was nice—easy to talk to, with a soft demeanor that made the evening pleasant.

But then, mid-conversation, you noticed his hand suddenly move toward yours. He placed it on top of your hand, his touch tentative and shy. The urge to laugh bubbled up again, but you forced it down, deciding to let it slide. It didn’t feel right, but you didn’t say anything, noticing how nervous he was.

However, Jay seemed to misinterpret your silence. A few moments later, he scooted his chair closer to yours, his face inching toward you with a look that was all too clear. Your eyes widened in alarm, and you instinctively leaned back, creating distance. But Jay didn’t get the message—he continued leaning in, oblivious to your discomfort.

You opened your mouth, ready to stop him, but the words never left your lips. In the blink of an eye, Jay was on the floor, groaning in pain, clutching his side as he struggled to catch his breath.

And standing above him, fists clenched and jaw tight, was Jungkook.

His chest heaved with barely restrained fury, his usual calm expression replaced with something darker, more intense. His eyes, usually warm and full of mischief, were now cold as they locked onto Jay, who was still writhing on the floor. Jungkook’s hand twitched as if he was ready to strike again, but he held back, his gaze shifting to you.

He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming, and your breath caught in your throat. His eyes hard and cold met yours, the anger in them abating just a bit, but his voice was soft when he spoke. “Are you okay?”

"Huh?" You asked, puzzled, and startled. For what really? In your head, you believed Jay didn't have any wrong intentions. But Did you say anything? No. You were too dumbfounded to pronounce a word.

"Blush, are you okay?" He repeated.

You nodded, though the shock was still coursing through your veins, making your limbs feel heavy. Jungkook’s eyes searched yours as if looking for any sign of distress, and when he seemed satisfied that you were unharmed, he turned his attention back to Jay, who was trying to scramble to his feet.

“Stay away from her,” Jungkook warned, his voice low and menacing. Jay paled, his eyes darting between you and Jungkook, clearly terrified.

You wanted to say something—to calm the situation down—but the words were stuck in your throat, tangled with the confusion and a hint of something else. Relief, perhaps? Or was it something more? Hope? But, for what?

Jungkook’s gaze hardened further as he looked at Jay and then again at you, his voice firm now. “Let’s go. You shouldn’t be here.” He held out his hand, and for a moment, you hesitated, glancing at Jay, who looked utterly defeated. But in the end, you placed your hand in Jungkook’s, letting him lead you away from the chaos he had just caused.

Jungkook grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the restaurant with a force that left you stumbling to keep up. His grip was tight, almost painfully so, as he dragged you toward his car, his jaw set in a hard line. When you reached the car, he yanked the door open and practically shoved you inside, slamming the door shut with a sharp thud. You wanted to tell him that you’d driven yourself, but the words caught in your throat. Something in the way he moved, tense and angry, made you stay silent.

He climbed into the driver’s seat, his movements quick and stiff, and started the car without a word. The engine roared to life, and soon you were speeding down the dark streets, the silence between you heavy and oppressive. The air inside the car was thick with unspoken tension, and you found yourself nervously fidgeting with the hem of your dress, your heart pounding in your chest.

You could tell he was furious; the tight set of his jaw, the way his hands gripped the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him from losing control. The cold night air seeped in through the cracked window, brushing against your bare skin and making you shiver. Despite his anger, Jungkook noticed. Without a word, he reached over and rolled up the window before flipping on the heater.

“My hoodie’s in the back seat,” he said harshly, his voice cutting through the silence. “Grab it and fucking wear it.”

The words were gruff, his tone filled with irritation, but the gesture was astonishingly thoughtful. You turned around to reach for the hoodie, and that’s when you noticed it—an enormous bouquet of daisies and a cake resting on the back seat. Your fingers froze mid-air as you stared at them, a mixture of confusion and curiosity swirling in your chest. Are they for me? Did he really? Your mind raced with these thoughts. You wanted to ask him about it, but when you glanced at his face, the sharp angles of his clenched jaw and the angry flicker in his eyes made you think twice.

Silently, you grabbed the hoodie and pulled it over your head, the fabric soft and warm against your skin. It was far too big, swallowing you up like a blanket, and his scent, a mix of something fresh and woodsy, surrounded you as you took a deep breath. For a brief moment, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. He really was huge, you thought, but the smile faded quickly as you stole another glance at him, his expression still hard and unyielding.

The drive seemed to pass in a blur, the tension in the car making every second feel like an eternity. Finally, you reached your home, and before you could even reach for the door handle, Jungkook was out of the car, moving around to your side. He yanked the door open with a roughness that made you flinch and grabbed your arm, pulling you out onto the sidewalk. His grip was firm as he dragged you toward the front door, his steps quick and determined, leaving you no choice but to stumble along behind him.

Your mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened, but before you could process it all, you were inside your house, the door closing with a sharp click behind you, and he was standing in front of you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing like a drum in the tense silence that followed Jungkook’s outburst. The fear in your gut twisted tighter with every step he took toward you. You had never seen him this angry before. He was always the boy who had been your childhood friend, the one you fell for in middle school but never told. At first, it was fear of rejection, and later, the fear of losing him and your friendship kept your feelings hidden. But now, wasn’t he lost to you? Didn’t he belong to Lilith now?

“Why the fucking hell were you out with that idiotic being?” His voice was like a whip, harsh and cutting through the air. The force of his words made you flinch, your shoulders tensing as if trying to shield yourself from his anger. You caught a flicker of something in his eyes—was it regret?—but it was fleeting, quickly masked by his furious expression.

Before you could gather your thoughts or find the words to respond, he took two swift strides toward you, and suddenly you were face-to-face. The intensity of his gaze bore into you, a storm of hurt and pain swirling in his eyes. “Do you like him?” he demanded, his voice cracking with raw emotion. “Do you love him?” He didn’t wait for your answers, bombarding you with questions while his face remained inches from yours.

You tried to speak, but the words were trapped, your throat tightening. Jungkook's hands gripped your shoulders, his fingers digging in with a possessiveness that left you breathless. “Damnit, say something!” he shouted, shaking you slightly. “Why were you out with him?”

But instead of answering, you shot back a question of your own, desperation lacing your voice. “How did you know I was out with him, Jungkook? How did you even find me Jungkook?”

You didn't want to answer his question. Why should he care if you loved someone or not, when he had accepted Lilith’s proposal just the day before? Now he had a girlfriend. He had no right to demand answers from you.

His anger flared further, a deep scowl marring his features. “Does it matter?” he snapped. “Does it fucking matter?” His eyes were intense, demanding an answer, and he leaned in as if he might kiss you, his breath hot against your face. “Why don’t you answer me? Do you love him?”

The intensity of the moment, the way he was so close and yet so distant, made you tremble. “Yes, it matters! It matters to me!” you shouted, your voice breaking with the force of your emotions. You pushed him away, the shove more about your need for space than real anger.

Jungkook stumbled back, his eyes widening in shock. His face twisted with hurt, and tears began to well up, glistening in the harsh light of the room. He stared at you, his expression a mix of pain and confusion, as if your rejection was a blow he wasn’t prepared for. The sight of him—this person who had always been so sure and confident—crumbling in front of you left a sharp pang in your chest.

As you looked at his tear-filled eyes, a deep, gnawing guilt settled in your chest. Why did you still care so much about him? You wondered. Your love for him was consuming you, and it was tearing you apart. You opened your mouth to respond, but he spoke before you could.

“I came to your house to celebrate your birthday,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I wanted to surprise you. This time... I wanted to surprise you on your birthday, that's why I didn't wish you before. But. But when I got here, I saw you getting into your car; before I could stop you, you left, your car was already speeding up. I chased after you because I really wanted to make you happy. You were loo-looking sad all day. But, I lost you somewhere along the way, then sear-searched for your car for like forever. When I finally found it, it was parked outside that restaurant.” His voice rose with each word, and his eyes were wild with a mixture of frustration and hurt. “And the moment I walked in, I saw him trying to kiss you. You didn’t even stop him!”

The anger in his voice dissolved into tears. His shoulders shook as he struggled to breathe, the weight of his emotions crashing down on him. You could see the pain etched into his face, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

You moved towards him, your own heart breaking at the sight of him in such distress.

You moved towards him and wrapped your arms around him tightly, hoping to offer some comfort. “Jungkook, what's wrong?” you murmured, your voice gentle. “why are you crying? Please, don’t cry.” But he pushed you away, his hands shoving you forcefully. His reaction stunned you, and a wave of realization hit you. So this is how he felt when you pushed him away.

You tried again, but he pushed you off once more, his eyes filled with anguish. “You love him, don’t you? How long? Huh?” he sobbed, his voice cracking with pain.

Determined not to give up, you moved towards him again. This time, when he tried to push you, you held your ground. You guided him to the couch and gently made him sit down, his shoulders shaking with each breath. You stood beside him, your hand soothingly stroking his back. “Please, don’t cry,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady.

He buried his face against your waist, his arms clinging to you. “Why do you love him and not me?” he asked, his voice muffled but full of hurt. “I thought you love me.”

For a moment, you were frozen, staring at him in disbelief, questions swirling in your head making your heart ache further. He knew. He knew you loved him, yet he chose her over you. Now, he was asking you this. How could he? How could he ask this when he was with Lilith? Did he expect you to chase him while he enjoyed his life with someone else?

With a mix of frustration and sorrow, you pushed his hands away from your waist. His crying intensified, but you no longer cared. “How can you say that?” you yelled, your voice breaking. “You accepted Lilith’s proposal yesterday! You’re dating her now! And you’re telling me not to love anyone else?”

Jungkook shook his head vigorously, trying to explain. “I— I didn’t... She... I... No. Please,” he started, but you cut him off.

“You knew. You knew I love you. You knew I was upset!” you continued, your voice rising. “still, you left me alone with those stupid chocolates while you went off with her!”

He tried to explain himself again, but you interrupted again, your anger spilling over. “I didn’t want those chocolates! I wanted you!” you shouted, your hand striking his chest. “You’re a heartless bastard. I’ve loved you for so long, and you never cared! Was it too hard to fall for me? And, why crying now?”

Jungkook’s face twisted with frustration, he knew you love him, he always did, his mouth opening to say something, but you cut him off once more. “You always stopped me from calling you ‘Jungkookie’ or ‘Kookie,’ but you never minded when other girls did it!”

He was growing increasingly agitated, his face reddening with frustration. Without fully realizing what he was doing, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you close. His lips crashed against yours, the urgency of the moment catching both of you by surprise.

For a brief second, you were frozen, his kiss demanding and intense. But then, you began to respond, your lips moving against his. The kiss was raw, filled with all the emotions neither of you could put into words.

He slowly pulled away, both of you breathing hard, your chests rising and falling rapidly. Your face was flushed, partly from the kiss and partly from the shyness creeping in. His eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “I’m not dating her, Blush,” he whispered, using the nickname that made you feel like home for the first time in what felt like forever.

You blinked, your heart stuttering at his words. “What?”

“I’m not dating her,” he repeated, his voice steady yet full of regret. “Yes, she proposed, and I didn’t reject her immediately, but that was only because there were so many people around. I didn’t want to embarrass her in front of everyone.” His hand dropped to yours, holding it firmly. “I told her in private afterward that I love someone else. That I love you.”

Your breath hitched as he confessed, his gaze never leaving yours. “She said she needed help with a project, and after rejecting her, I couldn’t say no. So, I left with her, but I didn’t want to. I just... I’m sorry, Blush. I love you, and only you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat as his words sank in. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “And those names,” he continued, his voice low, “I never liked them. It always felt like they were calling a baby, but I didn’t care enough to stop them because... well, they didn’t matter to me. The only person who matters is you.”

His words wrapped around your heart, squeezing it tight. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down, crashing your lips against his. The kiss was urgent, desperate, full of everything you’d been holding back for so long. His arms wound around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

After what felt like an eternity, you broke the kiss, both of you panting, foreheads pressed together. “I love you too, Jungkook,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

His arms tightened around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. “I’ve loved you for so long,” he murmured against your skin. “I was just too scared to lose you.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. “You won’t lose me,” you promised, your hand cupping his cheek. “Not now, not ever.”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as if he were savouring the moment. “That's a good thing because... I'm planning to keep you forever and ever and ever. I’m never letting you go,” he vowed, his voice firm, and you knew he meant every word.

Jungkook’s arms wrapped tighter around you, pulling you even closer, as if afraid you might disappear. His forehead rested gently against yours, his breath warm on your skin. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he looked into your eyes, the intensity of his earlier emotions fading into something softer, something tender.

“Happy birthday, Blush,” he whispered, his voice filled with affection.

Before you could even respond, he suddenly scooped you up into his arms, making you squeal in surprise. He laughed, the sound full of joy, as he began to twirl you around. The world spun around you, the colours of the room blurring together, but all you could focus on was him. The way his eyes sparkled with happiness, the way his grip on you was firm yet gentle, and the way his laughter filled your heart with warmth.

“Jungkook!” you laughed, holding onto his shoulders, feeling like you were floating. “Put me down!”

“Never,” he teased, twirling you faster. “Not until I’ve spun you around enough to make up for all those tears.”

Your laughter mingled with his, and the room filled with the sound of your shared happiness. Finally, when he slowed to a stop, he carefully set you down, though his arms stayed wrapped around you, keeping you close. You were both a little dizzy, swaying slightly, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was being in his arms, feeling his warmth, and knowing that he loved you.

Jungkook’s hands gently cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he looked at you with a smile that made your heart melt. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he murmured. “I’ve imagined this moment a thousand times, but it’s so much better than I ever dreamed.”

You smiled back at him, your hands resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers. “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had,” you confessed softly.

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead. “I'm sorry for making you cry. I won't ever make you cry again,” he promised. “I always knew you love me I just... I was... I tried to tell you many times but everytime it felt like it's not the right time, I'm sorry my love. I promise I'll make up for all those tears I've caused you because of my stupidity. Gosh! I just love you so much, Blush.”

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but they were happy tears. You leaned into his touch, feeling safe, loved, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was going to be okay.

Jungkook’s arms slid around your waist again, and before you could say anything, he lifted you off your feet once more, spinning you around slowly this time, his smile wide and full of love.

“Happy birthday, my love,” he whispered as he twirled you gently.

Part 2?

Wow, you made it to the end! Honestly, that deserves a medal or maybe some serious painkillers. If you’re still breathing and not currently plotting my demise for making you read this—congrats, you’re a legend. If you’re crawling towards me with murder in your eyes, don’t worry, I get it. I cringed so hard writing this that I think I bruised a rib.

I know, I know. This is like a bad joke that just won’t end. I’m cringing harder than you are. But hey, sometimes you just need to unleash your inner masochist and share the pain. I posted it because I felt like it. So, let’s bond over this collective trauma, or you can just plot my demise in peace. Either way, thanks for sticking around and surviving this with me. Here’s to us—brave souls navigating the wreckage of my writing. Cheers!

a/n: Let me know what you think in any way you like—comments, messages, carrier pigeons, whatever! I'd love to hear!

[skyahri]

And Suddenly |JJK Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Sukuna Ryomen, Gojo Satoru, and Geto Suguru

Summary: They proposition you for a baby.

Warnings: Cult Leader!Geto, Heian Era!Sukuna, Canon Gojo. A little smutty, but nothing specific.

- - - - -

Ryomen Sukuna

Sukuna swears he doesn't play favorites.

He always gives the same response when prompted by Uraume- that he hated everyone equally and that if anything, they were the only person he could tolerate. That specific line of questioning always riled him up, oftentimes making him irrationally angry and defensive.

Despite what he says, everyone on the estate knows he's full of shit. No one else is dumb enough to call him on it out of fear of being brutally murdered, but it's clear he does have a favorite. That fact is only further cemented when he approaches you in the middle of the garden and publicly demands that you give him a child.

"... what?"

"Are you deaf? I need an heir and you're going to give me one. Let's go."

Just like that, you're being slung over his shoulder and carried off. You only manage a peak at Uraume before the door closes, but even they seem surprised by the sudden declaration.

When you finally reach his chambers, he sets you down on his bed and drops his robes to the floor. When you don't move to do the same, he shoots you an impatient look, but you only offer him a confused one back.

"My Lord, I apologize if this is out of line, but what brought this on?"

"I want an heir."

"Yes, but why now? And why me?"

"Are you denying me, woman?"

"No, of course not, My Lord, I'm just- this is all very sudden."

After the initial spark of anger that flashes through him, he does genuinely think about it for a moment. Requesting a baby was quite the ask, and it would be in his best interest to keep you happy. Perhaps he could at the very least answer your questions...

"You are fertile."

"Is that really the only requirement you look for when considering the potential mother of your children?"

"Of course not."

He hates that little look you give him. It's pointed in a way that makes his nerves flair. It's not direct enough for him to ever call you on, but it screams defiance nonetheless.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. You should feel honored to have been chosen. Be grateful, brat."

Your face doesn't change. You only cross your arms and wait for his little tantrum to pass in hopes that he'll be a more willing participant in the conversation.

"What do you want from me?"

"Honesty, My Lord. That's all."

He bares his teeth at you. It's an empty threat- that much you learned long ago. You're well aware of his soft spot for you, and while you typically don't use that against him, you really did just want answers.

In the three years you'd served him, he had never once mentioned wanting children. He'd go as far as to kill any concubine who fell pregnant or even brought the topic up. Something was most definitely amiss, and you weren't one to cave into his ridiculous demands so easily.

After a momentary standoff, he sighs and stands a bit straighter in front of you.

"You are well aware why I have chosen you."

"Am I?"

Oh, if looks could kill you'd be six feet under already. He seems almost... embarrassed? It's not something you've ever seen on him, the red tint to his cheeks and ears are undeniably different from when he's angry. His lower right hand twitches ever so slightly and you can nearly hear his teeth grinding together.

"It is possible, that I may not entirely hate you."

"Careful, My Lord, that almost sounds like a confession."

"If that is what it takes for you to agree, then so be it."

You won't get anything more out of him, at least, not today. You'd been fully expecting him to choose an easy way out, something about biology or hierarchy or whatever, but this? No, this was a thousand times better than anything you could've imagined.

"Now, as to why, My Lord?"

"Is it really so surprising to want a child with you?"

You... don't know how to answer that. His response both does and does not answer your question. You were initially looking for something more, concrete? Something like him needing a successor or maybe needing to prove himself in some way.

Whether he intended to or not, he had given you a very intimate response that you were not in the last bit prepared for.

You were very aware that he treated you differently, not just from the other concubines, but from everyone in general. You had certain privileges that others did not, like joining him for dinners and baths or sleeping in his chambers. He indulges you with little acts of affection, things like kissing and brief touches. You spoke out of turn without consequence and could get away with doing things without his explicit permission.

But all of that was a whole Hell of a lot different than wanting a family. The man would sooner die than admit to liking you, but here he was admitting to wanting children with you. Not wanting an heir, not allowing you the privilege, no- wanting children with you.

"I accept."

"You say that as if you had a choice."

"We're alone, My Lord, there's no need for the tough guy facade."

"It's not a facade. Don't forget I can kill you, woman."

"Mhm, if you say so, My Lord."

Satoru Gojo

"You know,"

He slowly slides his hands up your sides, slipping them underneath the hem of your shirt.

"With the kids being so busy nowadays, I can't help but feel like our nest is a little empty."

He moves his head from its resting position on your head to trail kisses down your face. He pauses at your lips for a moment before continuing down your neck.

"Lucky for us, I know just the thing to fix such a problem."

You're only half paying mind to the attention he's giving you, the majority of your thoughts running over his recent behavior, trying to piece together anything that could've prepared you for the current situation.

He was a little upset when Tsumiki had gone full swing into high school last year. She had lots of friends, joined a few extracurriculars, and took her classes seriously. It didn't leave her much free time for family. You understood, and so did Satoru (albeit reluctantly), but that didn't make it any less bittersweet.

With the new school year starting, Megumi had begun drifting as well, and it didn't help that he was living on campus now. Of course, Satoru was one of his mentors, but that only meant their time together was spent working.

Both kids had always been independent, most likely a side effect of their shitty unconventional upbringing, but it seemed time was only making that fact more apparent.

You'd noticed he'd been a little deflated lately, but you'd chalked it up to extra stress from the council. You never thought it would be over something like this- not that you doubted how much he loved his pseudo-family or anything, he's just never shown any particular interest in expanding at all.

Even now, aside from a few stray comments about missing the kids and prioritizing family dinners, nothing he did really popped out.

"Satoru-"

He pulled away and took your hands in his, bending down a bit to make the height difference less obvious.

"Just hear me out,"

He swallowed hard and squeezed your hands a bit tighter.

"I know it's not something we've really talked about, but I can't stop thinking about it. I love raising kids with you and I don't want it to end."

"Babies and toddlers are a lot different than kids, Satoru."

"I know."

"It's a lot of work. We'd be starting over just as they've become self sufficient."

"I know."

"There's also significant risk associated with having Satoru Gojo's biological baby."

"All the reason to work harder."

Usually, when he wants something, he gives you this sappy, wide eyed, puppy dog stare and tries to bargain wit you. This, however, is starkly different. His gaze is intense, like he's peering straight into your soul, but it's also desperate, like he wants you to say yes but for once in his life, he's not going to pressure you.

Not that he'd have to, honestly.

He's right. You have enjoyed raising kids with him. He's dorky and definitely on the irresponsible side, but he cares for Tsumiki and Megs more than anything else in the world. He'd take them to the park, engage in whatever board games they wanted to play, and always did his best to make it to school events. He's a good dad, and you aren't eager to see the end of the peak quite yet.

The house is also very quiet as of late. There's no bickering, no loud music, and no one pestering you to make snacks. There's no more homework to help out with and no more rides to give. It's rather lonely.

So you put on your best poker face, just to spook him a bit, and focus your gaze on his pretty blue eyes. He looks hopeful. He knows you well enough by now to know you're going to say yes, but that little bit of fear overshadows any certainty he has.

"I think, maybe, possibly, that our family doesn't quite feel complete just yet, and might have room for one more."

That's all the confirmation he needs before he's scooping you up, pressing sloppy kisses against any surface of your skin he can reach, and taking you straight into your shared bedroom.

Suguru Geto

He had truly never thought about the prospect of having kids before. He was seventeen when he took in the twins and life had been pretty hectic since then, not leaving much room for additional personal affairs.

But he couldn't get the girls' words out of his head.

They'd come home from school last week and told him about one of their classmates who had just received a baby brother. He wasn't sure if they knew the scope of what they were asking when they started begging for a little sibling, but it did get him thinking. So he told them he'd consider the idea and sent them off to do their homework.

He wasn't... completely against the idea. He's at a point where he has the means to provide for one more. He loves Nanako and Mimiko more than anything and he's sure he can love another kid all the same, but that wasn't the issue.

It was having another kid that was difficult. He'd essentially kidnapped the twins, and while the deed was justified, he wasn't eager to do it again. Anything formal was off the table, being a mass murderer slash cult leader, and all.

That's when you entered his field of vision. Like an answer to his prayers, you walked past him with a bright smile on your face and a quick 'Good morning Geto-sama' before running off to wherever the girls currently were.

The answer seemed a bit too obvious. You'd joined not too long after he'd taken over, offering support in any way you could. At the time, he was having a hard time adjusting to everything. Raising children was a lot harder than he'd anticipated, mostly due to the trauma they'd endured. You took some of the load off of him. You watched them while he was in meetings, cooked them meals, and made sure they got to and from school when he couldn't.

You're around his age, smart and pretty, and essentially already a mother to his kids. You loved them as much as he did, so surely, you'd be more than happy to help him out with this, right?

"You... want me to give you a baby?"

He wasn't sure what to make of that response. It was ambiguous, and your blank expression didn't lean any one way the other.

"Yes. Nanako and Mimiko would like a sibling, and I've decided to indulge them. Would you be so kind as to help me?"

"I'm not pregnant, Geto-sama."

"I'd hope not."

Your confusion only grew. There was no precursor to this conversation. Just yesterday you were discussing the week's itinerary and what all was expected of you. He hadn't looked at you any differently, hadn't dropped any hints, or asked any strange questions. This was truly out of the blue.

You must've taken too long to continue the conversation because there's suddenly a hand grabbing yours. It's warm and rough, and despite the newness of it, it's grounding.

"Please don't feel pressured to say yes. I'd like an honest answer. This will only work if both parties are consenting."

You hesitate for a moment. It's not like you haven't thought about it before. Not this specifically, but being more of a permanent fixture in Geto household. It's usually a fleeting feeling, a fantasy of sorts. You'd never allowed yourself to mull over it, assuming that it was a lost cause.

"Why me?"

A perfectly reasonable question.

"You're already a mother to my children, what's one more, hm?"

"And this baby..."

"Would be ours, if you're willing if course."

Suguru is actually pleased by your hesitation. A fair number of his followers would jump at the invitation without much thought. He finds it rather pathetic that some would follow him so blindly, so your reluctance only further cements his confidence in his decision.

"And what would all of this mean for me?"

"I suppose you'd be a wife of sorts. 'Nanny' seems a little degrading for someone bearing my child."

He laughs and it immediately cuts through any tension in the air.

While the offer is certainly jarring, denying it had yet to cross your mind. Geto is a harsh leader, sure, but he's incredibly kind to those close to him, and that extends to you. He's a great dad and loves his children, and you're sure any baby of yours would meet the same fate.

"Yeah, okay."

"Good. Why don't you meet me in my quarters after you put the girls to bed."

[always-just-red]

A/N: So I threatened a while back to write MC arresting Sylus since he literally won’t shut up about it. Thought this would be a silly fic but it ended up an angst-driven exploration of how his time with MC is probably finite and ill-fated?? Anyway Sylus is too soft for this, I’m sorryyyy (Sy I love you! I would never do this to you! ‘Didn’t it come from your imagination, though?’ Ssshhhh you don’t know what you’re saying!! 🥰)

To Remain Silent

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus has told you to arrest him one too many times...

Genre: Emotional rollercoaster honestly? Some angst, some comfort (and a lil spice for flavour)

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, vaguely established relationship, gets a little steamy at the end (mostly kissing tbh), artistic licence applied liberally since this would be WAY too risky for MC to actually attempt 😭😭

| Word count: 2.7k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Sylus knows this isn’t real.

You watch him through the glass of his cell, and the subtle tint to it lets you know that he can’t watch you back. He’s sat on the single bench inside, leaning against the far wall, his long legs stretched out before him. His hands are cuffed— tucked away behind his back— but he still looks comfortable. More than comfortable: at ease. At home. Bored.

“You think I can’t feel those pretty little eyes of yours on me?” he mutters, head back, eyes closed. “I’m at your mercy, kitten. Are you really only going to look?”

You tap a button on the glass. “You should start taking this seriously.”

He smiles at the sound of your voice, but his eyes don’t open; there’s still nothing to see. “I’m taking it very seriously, sweetie.”

“I don’t think you are.”

The smile turns even more smug: a confession, all by itself. He sits up and leans forward, like someone who’s found a change of conversation to be interesting. His eyes open— managing to find you, somehow, and— can he see you? No. It’s an educated guess, he’s just selling it with confidence.

Leisurely, he rises from his seat and saunters over to the glass. “Let me see you,” he orders, then bargains: “Please? This is so very—” he toes the division— “one-sided.”

You can’t look him in the eyes, can you? This is hard enough without the windows to your soul baring your heart and your mind to him, like they always do. You should have worn those sunglasses he bought you for that undercover assignment. This is what they’re for, right? Hiding.

With a circular swipe of your finger, the glass before you clears and Sylus meets your gaze.

“Hi,” he teases.

You fold your arms across your chest. “Hey.”

“This is quite some effort you’ve gone to, kitten. And all for me, no less.”

“What effort?” you dismiss plainly. “You practically slapped those handcuffs on yourself.”

It’s not an exaggeration: from the cuffs to the ride here, not a single stage of his arrest has been resisted. The closest he’s gotten to a lack of cooperation was when you’d first restrained and dragged him from his study, where he’d been inclined to point out that the bedroom was the other way.

“Well, I didn’t want to cause a fuss,” he smirks. One of his hands is brought forward, and his handcuffs now hang uselessly from a finger. “Tell me,” he says, letting them swing as he holds your gaze, “what am I to expect now I’ve been so masterfully captured?”

You glance at the restraints, unmoved. “That isn’t for me to decide.”

A door behind you slides open, and— right on time— an altogether more impressive presence joins you before the cell. Sylus glances her up and down as the click of her heeled boots come to a stop; he has never met your captain, but he knows her face.

“You really cashed in all your favours, didn’t you, sweetie?” he observes. He turns to address the woman beside you: “We haven’t been introduced. I’m—”

“I know who you are,” Jenna interrupts, her tone as incorruptible as yours.

Sylus’s arm lifts, resting on the glass above you so he can tower over you, despite the partition. “Is that right?” he purrs absent-mindedly, dropping his head so he can speak into your ear. “Sweetie… I thought you could keep a secret.”

He’s goading you into your usual game, but the stakes don’t interest you. “You were wrong.”

You’re at your own table, dealing your own cards. Does he want to play? You think he might. His lips are curving at the delicious prospect of a challenge. You’ve given him a taste of it. He wants more.

Jenna is studying her clipboard, acting oblivious. She senses the impasse. Asks Sylus: “Do you know why you’re here?”

He huffs impatiently. “Enlighten me.”

“Sylus,” you scold.

Red eyes widen a fraction.

You see it.

Good.

…

Sylus thinks this might be real.

You said his name. His real name: the one with sharp, bloody strings attached. The one on all the posters. The one in your precious Association’s archives, linked to stacks of files and crime scene photos, most of which he isn’t even responsible for.

Sylus. You said: Sylus. 

It was worthy of a grand reveal— the sort of plot twist that delivered the suspense of so many thrillers— but here you are, speaking it like it’s nothing. Not a slip of the tongue; not a mistake. And it’s different here. He’s not your Sylus. He’s theirs.

Their murderer. Their monster. Their convenient little scapegoat for everything dark and unholy.

The captain is reading him a list, reeling off every crime— each alleged sin. As if he needs a reminder. As if all the time in the world could ever let him forget. “Needless to say, Mr Sylus,” she summarises, “due to the nature of these crimes, you may prove exempt from our standard procedures. A case like this is… unprecedented. Onychinus has much to answer for. You have much to answer for.”

Sylus hasn’t really been listening; it’s all senseless bureaucracy. “You have the wrong man,” he says, because whatever you’re doing— whatever stunt this is— a confession is sure to derail it. You know that, don’t you? You must be counting on it: holding that guilty breath of yours and hoping he’s smart enough to not be Sylus.

You don’t look worried in the slightest. You must have an awful lot of faith in him.

He studies you, waiting for a small, deliberate smile or a moment of weakness. Give him a sign, don’t give him a sign— it doesn’t matter; he’ll find one. His intentions must be clearer than yours, because you step up to the glass to face him.

Do it, your silence says, even though the rest of you is illegible. You want to look? Look.

His eye could light like a crimson fire— could burn the truth out of you— but it won’t. It’s a promise he made what feels like a lifetime ago, not long after you’d met: Your thoughts and desires are yours to give, not his to take.

Even here. Even now. He’s a man of his word, after all.

Impressed? You smile faintly, but there’s no warmth to it. “Captain,” you speak, your eyes not leaving his, “can you give us a minute? Please?”

“Of course,” the woman answers with a nod.

Sylus does not see her go. He hears it: the retreating rhythm of her shoes. He feels it: it’s just the two of you, alone again. Well, the two of you and that ‘hidden’ camera in the far corner of the room. “Whatever game this is,” he grins good-naturedly, his teeth gritted, “it stops. Now.”

“It’s not a game, Sylus. I told you to take this seriously.”

“What are you doing?” he snaps, and that good-natured grin didn’t last very long. 

Your hands land on your hips. “My job.” When he scoffs, you continue: “Did you really think this would end any other way? After everything you’ve done?”

He laughs and it’s deeply sardonic. He’s no saint— to try to convince you he was would be a crime worthy of punishments far worse than this. But you know him. You know the line and what stands on each side of it: everything he’s done, yes, and everything he’s been made to take the fall for.

You wouldn’t do this to him. Would you? “You want to play pretend? Fine,” he hisses. He wants to wrap his Evol around that godforsaken camera and annihilate it. “You caught the big, bad boss of Onychinus— congratulations, sweetie. Sure. Let’s say that’s who I am. A man like that has power, right? So what’s to keep him— me— from escaping? Right now?”

“You’re not going to leave, Sylus. Wanna know why?”

He’s sure you’re going to tell him, and you do:

“Because you’re all talk. All smoke and mirrors. You want to go? Go. But there’s not a single person in this building who wouldn’t give their life to bring you back. Someone will catch up to you eventually, and what then?”

“I’ll have a lot of fun, I imagine.”

“You’ll do nothing,” you correct. “Because those people out there? They’re my friends. My family. You hurt them? You hurt me. Make all the threats you want, Sylus— we both know the truth.”

He towers over you, still, but it’s hard not to shrink at your next words:

“You don’t have it in you.”

Your eyes are sharp: whetted with resentment. Sylus is your reflection— your worthy opponent, always— but he just can’t look at you like that.

There’s a quiet hiss as you slide a finger over the cell’s control panel. White, neon light carves through the glass partition: two vertical lines that bleed upwards, either side of him, before bending to meet each-other. The glass between them shimmers, then fades.

Sylus stands on the precipice of the doorway, cool air crawling past him. He stares up at the camera, then down at you. Your arms have folded again as you watch him— a narrative of apathy.

“How about it, Sylus?” you ask bitterly. “Still think you can outrun fate?”

“No.” Not since it started wearing your face. Fate is you, putting a bullet in his heart, and him, waking up so you can do it over and over again. Maybe this is real. Maybe it isn’t. “What do you want from me?” he entreats softly, because you’ll get it— either way.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you sneer, and your hand shoots out, grasping a fistful of his shirt. You use it to drag him out of the cell, closer, lower, so that his face is mere inches from yours.

“No,” he repeats. “Say it.”

Your eyes burn like pyres: so dangerous, so beautiful, so suited to being the death of him. “I want you—” you begin, as they flit briefly to his lips— “to tell me…”

“What?”

“How you cheat at kitty cards.”

Oh. Oh.

You’re going to be insufferable about this, aren’t you?

Sure enough, you drop his shirt and burst into laughter— irrepressibly you again. The fire in your eyes has simmered down into something warm, safe, and comfortable, and— gods— you’re even crying. You’re doubled over, holding your stomach as though it hurts. You lift a hand to wipe your wet cheek. “Your face,” you get out between gasps, “oh, your face!”

Yours is not the only laughter, but it’s the only laughter Sylus hears.

“We so got you, Skye!” Tara’s vaguely familiar voice resounds from an intercom.

There’s some confusing static with it— more tittering voices— and Sylus suspects he’s found himself the star of your colleagues’ after-work entertainment. He puts his hands on his hips as he looks up at the camera. “Is the whole office—”

“Yeah,” you manage, wiping away another tear. “Figured it would be good for morale. Good practice, too.”

“Practice?”

“Mmhmm,” you confirm with a hum. You’ve apparently gotten a handle on the hilarity of the situation, because you approach him with something close to composure. Meditatively, you smooth down the fabric of his shirt. Straighten his collar. “For when we catch the real Sylus one day.”

He captures your wrists; that’s a lot of tenderness for someone who just tried to give him a heart attack. Maybe he’s a little too rough, because you pout at him in a way that makes him instantly soften his grip.

“You ok, Skye?” you enquire with an ironic smile and an adorable tilt of your head.

His thumbs are feathering over your pulse points, and slowly, he leans in to deliver a message, just for you: “If I say no, will you make it up to me?”

…

Sylus knows this is real.

His mouth is on yours and it’s relentless, desperate; you made him wait for it. How long has he been wanting to trap you against the nearest wall, just like this, so he can kiss you until he forgets just how cold you can be? 

He’s been very patient. He didn’t roll his eyes or utter a word of complaint when you’d dragged him to join your colleagues for dinner. It was your victory party, your ‘I made you look like an idiot’ party, but he was his usual, charming self, and your friends all adored him for it. They’d spun him the tale of his ‘arrest’— the planning, the preparation, and your lightbulb moment: 

“Hey, guys, have you ever thought about how Skye kinda looks like Sylus?”

Only he could understand how wickedly clever it was. His eyes had sought yours as he listened, lazy, content, and so obviously biding his time. You’d smiled at him. He’d smiled back. 

And he’d stayed smiling, even after the party was over and you’d had to walk a slightly-tipsy Tara home. She’d refused a taxi, insisted Sylus escort her— oh, and you could come, too! He’d lent her his arm: humoured every squeeze and chuckled at each remark about the size of it. You’d had to swat her away, in the end.

“I’m just teasing, y’know?” she’d giggled as the three of you arrived at her front door. “Skye knows I’m just teasing. You’re such a sweetheart, Skye. Imagine! You— the leader of Onychinus!”

She’d laughed, much too loud for such a quiet street, and with a less-than-subtle wink, left the two of you alone. Which is how you’d ended up here, in an alley around the back of her building, because it was Sylus’s turn to drag you somewhere. 

His attentions have moved lower; there’s a subtle clink as his fingers find the clasp of your shirt collar and he peels it back, exposing your neck. His lips leave yours, trailing down, down— past the line of your jaw and over the soft, vulnerable column of your throat. You gasp as he brushes over a sensitive spot, and you could swear you feel him smile.

He’s always been passionate, but this is a different fire, fuelled by something you can’t ignore, no matter how much you want to:

Relief. 

“Sy,” you murmur breathlessly, your hand in his hair, tugging gently. “Sy, stop.” 

“Mmm?” he acquiesces, voice sinfully low as the cold evening air takes his place kissing your neck. His eyes shine like blood spilt in the dead of night— lingering on you. He looks drunk.

You lift a hand to cup his face and run your thumb over his cheek. “I’ll never let anything happen to you, Sylus. You know that, right?”

Those dark eyes find clarity with your words, full of apprehension for just how naive you can be. The future will turn on you just as quickly as a wild animal someone boasts about having tamed, and aren’t you foolish, thinking you can control something like that? 

Besides, that’s his job.

“I know,” he says like he’s supposed to— ever the martyr, following the script. He goes to nuzzle into you again, but your hand is still tight in his hair and he groans as you use it to pull him back. 

“I mean it,” you reassert, forcing him to look at you. You don’t care that it’s ridiculous. You don’t care that fate is so hot on your heels that you have to keep running. You’re tired. He’s even more tired.

Isn’t it nice to stop and catch your breath?

Pretend you have time: His gaze is full of faith and oh, the world is going to enjoy punishing the two of you. “I know,” he insists, because this is the second time you’ve fooled him tonight. You feel his hand on your face and you let him kiss you— again, then again— so achingly slow, so arrogant. 

The world can wait; he wants to punish you first. 

“Do you really want to know—” he distracts as he finds that sensitive spot on your neck again— “how I cheat at kitty cards?”

The pad of his finger is chasing the path of his mouth; it tickles. You whine: “Tell me later, Sy.”

“Ok,” he breathes against you.

Later. There’ll be a later.

Won’t there?

[nicholasgoodgirl]

on set - nicholas chavez

summary: you came to bring nicholas food on set and he looks too good you gotta help him get off or maybe you're just doing it for yourself.

warning: oral (m receiving), almost caught ig.

a/n: i need this man bad 😩

--

i park my car and get the takeout my boyfriend asked me to get for him while he was on set.

i knocked on his trailer a few times then being met with him, Nicholas i can't lie he looked undeniably good.

a part of me feels bad because he's getting put into character for this role and i liked it. every bit of it.

the way his hair is styled, paired with the old money clothing. he was perfect. "you good?" not sure how long he was trying to get my attention but i just nod and walk into the trailer.

"you gonna be free tonight" i ask. Nicholas sits back down in the chair. "uh i don't think so" he checked the message he was given earlier this morning before coming to work

"yeah, no i won't be free why?" he asks giving me the perfect opportunity to perhaps get a quickie in before he has to actually get on screen again.

i walk up behind him, giving his shoulders a little massage then kissing his neck "I'd really liked if we could do something later" i try hinting to him that i wanted to fuck and im sure he caught on rather slowly than expected but he still did nonetheless.

"at work? what a needy girl" he coaxed. he took my hand in his and brung me infront of him.

nicholas manspreads his legs a bit so i can stand in between them "how bout you get that pretty little mouth to work then"

his cocky tone and the light pat on the side of my thigh; a signal for me to get on my knees sent my need for him through the roof.

i sunk to my knees not breaking eye contact. "this is what you wanted right?" he asked me with a smirk.

i give him a nod. but that wasn't enough for him he brings his thumb to my mouth dragging it across my lips "use your words baby" he cooed

"yeah- yes.. i want to do this." i fumble with his belt buckle, his eyes burning into my skull making me feel intimidated by his gaze.

i get the belt undone and pull his pants down, he lifts his hips a bit to help. "doin' so good already but-" he picks his phone up checking the time "-they're gonna need me in atleast 7 minutes" he places the phone back down.

his hard cock is freed from the confinement of his boxers. i put the head of his cock at my lips, kitty licking the tip before putting my mouth around him.

a low grunt is heard from him encouraging me to sink my mouth down further.

he grabs a handful of my hair and carelessly pushing my head down, i gag on his dick and im quick to remove my mouth off him "stoopp" i whine

"alright im sorry" he takes his hands away from my hair and puts them up surrendering.

a knock on the trailer door followed by a girl telling Nicholas he's needed on set. "5 more minutes!" he yells loud enough for the lady to hear from outside.

nicholas turns back to me and raises his eyebrows "see we don't have much time" he shrugs.

i wrap my mouth around him for the second time, already use to the length reaching the back of my throat.

he allows me to do whatever i please with my mouth; watching me take his length. i swallow around him and nearly choke when he accidentally jerks forward and thrusting down the back of my throat.

"shit.." nicholas drawls out throwing his head back at the feeling.

i change my pace, bobbing my head faster and using my hand to pump whatever i couldn't fit in my mouth. he whimpers softly, i looked up at him, his lips caught between his teeth, cheeks flushed and eyebrows knitted together while his eyes were screwed shut. perfect like i said before

"you're such a good girl f'me y'know that?" i hum in reaponse, the vibration around his cock made him moan loudly.

"sir are you ok?" the lady asked from outside; rattling the doorknob. "fine- just fine!" ,,give me one more minute please"

i swirl my tounge around his tip then using my hand to stroke him till he reaches his orgasm "m' close" he whimpers.

i put my mouth on the head of his cock and let him paint the back of my throat.

i wipe the sides of my mouth and rise from my knees while Nicholas pulls his underwear and pants back up. "lets finish up whenever i get home yeah?" he kisses my head and walks out the trailer.

[hotvintagepoll]

Peter Lorre (The Maltese Falcon, Arsenic and Old Lace, Casablanca)—to me he DEFINES scrungle hes the first person i think of every time the term comes up! i want to fold him up like a paper accordion and put him in my pocket. guy that spawned a million voice artists and impersonators. they made a ghost version of him for halloween cereal staple boo berry. bewitched by his nervous mania and tooth gap <3 (for the purposes of propaganda im linking a photo from his extremely short appearance in muscle beach party bc ive been obsessed w it for years and i couldnt find any video for it :/ anyway imagine youre frankie avalon spending the whole movie battling a bodybuilder faction thats taking over your beach and your girl and then you find out this fucking guy is their mastermind mystery leader and hes stronger than all the bodybuilders combined. like Huh. What.)

Tony Randall (Lover Come Back, Pillow Talk)—he's SO TIRED he's three-wheeling ALL THE TIME on rock and doris's shenanigans and he is always SMALL. PATHETIC. INHERENTLY FILLED WITH ENNUI. i feel like all these 60s comedies are very Straight Laced and Heterosexual and yet somehow tony randall is always there having the worst day ever.

This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Peter Lorre

he's pretty much the archetype of the scrungly little guy. the blueprint. the example by which all other scrungly little guys are judged

The perfect sniveling character actor, “scrungly” is the first word that comes to mind when I think of him.

The entire point of his iconic role in Casablanca (apart from introducing the central plot mcguffin) was to be LITTLE and SCRUNGLY to make Bogie look even cooler. And Maggot in Corpse Bride - the littlest scrungliest guy in that film - was a parody of him.

I think Arsenic and Old Lace is his quintessential "scrungly" performance. He's so put-upon and tired...all he wants is sleep and some schnapps! I love the way his shoulders fall slowly when he thinks he's caught (he looks like a sad puppy!), only to gleefully sprint out the door when he realizes how dumb those police officers are.

Between his big eyes, wheezy laugh, short stature, and expressive faces, Peter Lorre achieved icon status as the scrungliest, littlest guy in Hollywood. His scrungly little guy energy was often contrasted with the more typical masculinity of the leading man, but whether this contrast was meant to make him seem especially sinister, comedic, or pathetic, it always left an unforgettable impression!

I'm sure somebody else has already submitted him (if not then ???) but he's a cute kind of scrungly little guy. He's got a distinctive nasal voice with an accent that is instantly recognizable and often imitated. His later horror movies are so much fun, especially when he's playing off of Vincent Price. He's so good at being unhinged, creepy, or manic, but also pathetic and sympathetic.

Classic scrungly hollywood golden age little guy who was friends with Humphrey Bogart and still played some of the wettest most sniveling characters ever committed to celluloid (complimentary) there is a deep despair and darkness in many of his characters that enhances his scrungly

To be clear, I am one of those people who will argue that Lorre is one of the most underrated film actors, but the POINT is that he's also just a scrungly delight. A delightfully pocket-sized man. Somehow endearing even when he is being actively amoral (see esp. Casablanca. "I found myself much more reasonable!") The faces he makes while doing the Russian cossack dance with a butter knife between his teeth in Silk Stockings make me laugh just thinking about them.

Wikipedia described his typical characters as "timidly devious", lots of weird little villains and evil sidekicks that are pretty horrifying but still manage to be sort of pathetic and the very definition of "poor little meow meow". His look and voice and mannerisms are so iconic they're still imitated

Cartoons for the next century have and will continue to include Peter Lorre-esque characters when needed to up the scrunge factor (see Bugs Bunny and so many more).

[editor's note on below link: I'm not actually sure how many of these characters are directly influenced by Peter Lorre, so take with a grain of salt. tw for suicide.]

The poster boy for Scrungly. Everyone who wants to draw a scrungly guy draws Peter Lorre. Gomez Addams of The Addams Family was based on him

Tony Randall

"you had everything going for you! poverty!! squalor!!!!" "girls again!!! what's this obSESSion you have with giRLS???"

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

Forever

@loose1cannon Thank you so much for your request! I was so hyped with the Ace one, but I need to apologise because my angsty wired brain might have made a poo-poo. I'm so sorry if it's too sad! 😫 I promise that the other part of your request will be happy, okay?? I hope you still enjoy it! ❤️

Source for pic

Forever

Word Count: 1270

Tags: fem!reader; angst, so much angst; NSFW; feelings; hurt; sorrow; grief; spoilers for what happens at Marineford; slightly NSFW

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: It has been a year since Marineford and you still can't cope with the loss.

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil (guys if you only want to be tagged for specific characters, please send me a message! I don't want to bother you with excessive tagging!!🙏)

|Masterlist|

Rain poured down from the skies mirroring your inner turmoil exactly. The steady downpour cast a sort of halo over your figure. It felt like a shroud. The site was eerily quiet aside from the sounds of the heavy drops crashing against the stone graves. 

And for the thrumming of your heart. 

An unsteady rhythm beating out of sync, skipping a beat now and then, as if it were missing something to make it whole. And it was.

Ace.

One year had passed since he left you, or since you lost him. Honestly, it felt like the world itself had lost him, since he belonged to everyone. He was life itself. And without him, there was only demise. 

“Did you miss me, baby?” His tongue swiped against yours in desperation while his scalding hands roamed your clothed body. “I missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. All day, every day.”

Ace was always so eager for you that his touch singed your clothes, leaving small burn marks on the hem of your shirts or on your jeans. It used to piss you off. You’d scold him saying you didn’t have berries lying around just to buy new clothes and that he should be more careful. He laughed it off, or kissed it off, murmuring that he could buy or steal all the clothes you wanted, or better yet, you could just walk naked.

A sob clawed its way up your throat and scratched it, yearning to get out, needing to be free, but you clamped it down and pushed it back into your insides to fester and rot like all the other feelings of grief, sorrow and despair. 

No more crying. No more sadness. Ace wouldn’t want that. Ace loved your laugh.

“Laugh for me, Sunbeam!” You were both lying on his bed, sheets tangled on naked limbs and sweaty bodies, heaving from exhaustion and pleasure. 

“No. I’m mad at you.” But you weren’t, you were just downcast.

“It’s just a month. I’ll be back before you know it.”

No, no. You can’t go there, this one is too painful. If only you insisted, if only you had pushed further. He wouldn’t have gone after Blackbeard and he would still be here with you. 

Your knees hit the muddied floor with a soft thud as your hands clutched your chest. Slim fingers crumpled the drenched fabric as your breath left your lips in shallow, ragged heaves. “You weren’t supposed to leave me, Ace! Not like this!”

Your arms circled your torso in the only hug you allowed yourself these days: your own. It was nowhere near enough, but then again, there would never be another hug like Ace’s. 

It was crushing, bone-breaking, suffocating. It was home. 

“Ace!”

“I’m back, baby. Missed me, Sunbeam?” With a little jump you were straddling his lap, legs wrapped securely around his waist as his hands rested on your ass. Your mouth devoured him while your fingers tangled in his unkempt greasy hair. “I guess that’s a yes.” 

That smirk. Those freckles. The mischievous glint in his eyes. 

Gone. All gone. Buried in front of you, six feet under and beneath layers of cold, unforgiving dirt. 

Alongside your heart.

You tried to stifle your moans against the pillow, but he would have none of that. Stopping that sinful lapping of his tongue and removing his fingers from inside you, he lifted himself onto his knees and threw the pillow to the other side of the cabin. “I want to hear you scream my name.”

“Ace!” You whisper with a groan of frustration. You were just about to unravel when he left you feeling empty.

“Yes, sweetheart, just like that.” He aligned his leaking tip with your wet entrance and teased, pulling a little mewl from your lips. “But way louder.”

And you did what he told you to.

Was that the last time?

There’s no stopping the tears. You tried, you really did. But they were relentless. You have a million memories from the past and a million and one memories of Ace. You can’t afford to lose any of them.

"God, Ace, why?” The clenching in your chest expands and swells, taking up all the space inside. Filling you like a balloon and you feel ready to pop. How are you supposed to survive without him? One year was already hell, how can you survive another one?

And another one…

And another one…

“Smile, Sunbeam!”

“You’re shining, love!”

“Ah, that laugh right there, I could die a happy man.”

“You make me feel worthy.”

“I can’t live without you, baby.”

“Don’t ever leave me. I wouldn’t make it.”

You didn’t leave him. You kept your promise. He was the one who left. And now how are you supposed to move on with your life as if what made you live wasn’t ripped apart from you? How is a sunbeam supposed to shine when there is no reflective surface?

How can you be light, when all you feel is darkness?

“Ace… This was never supposed to be easy, but I didn’t expect it to break me…"

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you.”

“You’re my life.”

“My happy, little Sunbeam.”

“My love.”

Getting up on wobbly legs you took another two steps forward. Your tears mixed with the rain, salt and water. Pain and grief. Hurt and sorrow. Reaching with trembling, frail fingers, you grabbed the remnants of Ace’s hat. It was torn and tattered, the beads were barely hanging on, but it was still there.

A desperate wail left your lips as you fell back down, your legs no longer supporting the weight of your misery. This time, you let the sobs climb all the way out. And you cried as you had never cried before. Sobs, hiccups and ragged breaths mingled with the sound of approaching thunder.

But none of that compared to the tempest inside. It roared, raged and crashed, drowning you in its violence, dragging you to the pits of sorrow and darkness and you had no idea how to climb out of there anymore. Not without him. 

But then there was a sudden calmness. A break amidst the most violent of storms and then the echo of a whisper, soft and unmistakable. 

“You’ll be okay, Sunbeam.”

Ace’s voice. A gentle murmur in your soul. Perhaps a conjured thought your troubled mind had made up, but you’d take it.

You clutched his worn-out hat against your chest, wishing there was still a lingering scent of him anywhere, but he had disappeared so long ago. The rain slowed down and was now just a gentle pitter-patter against the leaves and the graves. 

A sunbeam peeked from behind a dark cloud and landed on your lap, near Ace’s hat and for the first time in a year you felt a sliver of hope on the horizon. You didn’t have Ace anymore, but your love for him would never fade or wane.

Your memories together would still be a part of you.

You would carry him inside you and remember him in those missing, uneven beats of your heart. 

Maybe… just maybe, that would be enough to carry you through. 

“I’ll be okay, love.” You forced a laugh. A bright smile like the ones he used to love. “For you, Ace. I’ll fight for you.”

The sunbeam on your lap flickered, faded behind a cloud and reappeared on Ace’s grave. Hope filled you and took back some of the space that grief and sorrow had claimed as territory. You’d learn to shine again, someday…

For him. 

For Ace.

For your love.

[nemesyaaa]

knuckle velvet // killer!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary ; ready or not (the movie) au. after a peaceful relationship and marriage with rafe cameron, you began to be the prey of your husband and his whole family in a twisted revisited hide and seek.

warnings : violence. blood. survival horror trope. smut. p in v. betrayal. manipulation.controlling behavior. sick/strange and freaky attitude. finale girl trope. horror au. blood kissing. mentions of guns. form of revenge. daddy issues. cameron family being crazy. a little twist. death of characters. knuckle velvet by ethel cain and somebody that i used to know by gotye lyrics coded. escaping. mentions of smoking. belly bulge. twisted ending. some spoilers for ready or not (movie). minors DNI. not really dark content but be careful with the warnings <3

author's note ; it's one-shot around 3k. i highly recommand ready or not. it's one of my fav movies and trope. tysm @rafecameroninterlude for helping me with the idea !

everyone in town said that rafe cameron was a dangerous and strange man. it was something that not only god knew, but you knew as well. you knew about his reputation but above all you knew who he was and what he had done.

he could have killed you thousands of times as he had done so to his victims, but you had always known how to keep the secret.

but now that he had proposed to you, three years later after the accident, things had changed.

you were the perfect girlfriend he wanted and he was the perfect boyfriend you dreamed of. your wedding was shaping up so well. you could already see yourself dressed in the most beautiful white dress in the church hallway while he waited for you in front of the altar.

everything with rafe cameron was what you reached for.

even the sex part, making out with rafe cameron was always fierce and rough, like the way his cock thrust deeply into you repeatedly, the curvy tip hitting your spot back and forth. you can feel his hand which was wrapped tightly around your neck, gripping you possessively like a leash, his fingers kept running into your bruised skin. “ don't fucking give up on me now.” he growled angrily against your ear, and pulled out his wet tongue to put a lick on your lobe, with and a savage bite.

“ don't try to run away pumpkin, or i'll make sure both of your legs know they’re mine by only making them fit with my cock buried inside you. understand ? nod pretty heart, give me the pleasure of knowing that you obey me.”

you nodded, letting out a moan as you felt his large and veiny girth fitting and bullying your spongy walls. his firm hips slamming into yours, as he gripped the side of your cheeks with a heavy hold, the strong slapping of skin to skin echoing louder in the room. he slipped two fingers inside your mouth, brushing them quickly against your dripping tongue, leaving your muscle with a trickle of drool falling from your open jaw. "good fucking dog, seems like i raised a perfect slut."

his words were so degrading but he turned you on so much. your whole body was covered with pretty and thrilling shivers, and his back and forth into you were so violent that tears quickly stained your cheeks. you cried like a baby while he fucked you like a big girl. you were as pathetic as the mess raining over your sloppy pussy that rafe abused massively by burying himself deep in it, while touching all your spots to hear your desperate and muffled cries that he was - of course the only one to give you.

you could feel his length reaching for your tummy, seeing the hugeness of his full shaft moving into your stomach as you gurgled passionately . he spat into your open mouth, whichwas stuffed with his fingers, forcing you to swallow his saliva. his palm was pressed against your flesh to feel the bulge of his cock destroying you with a smirk, while the huge clapping of your bodies sticking to each other, made your plushy cunt squeeze around him. his thrusts were harder and faster, and made you whine even more as the outline of his dick drew his strokes inside your belly.

the bed creaked beneath you. you were dizzy to the feeling of him plungingin your insides, your pussy soaking every inch of his cock that was tightened in your canal. your eyes rolled back, and he had his face pressed against your cheek.

there were those incessant noises in the light of your room. your two bodies slamming against each other, his sweat against your skin. rafe grabbed your neck more savagely, leaving it covered in bruises, which he licked with passion, while his dick continued to fuck you so hard that you no longer had the ability to think.

you were completely submissive. your cunt was in tatters, dripping on the mattress and around him. he pushed his fingers even further into your mouth to the point where you were gagging around them, a huge burst of drool exploding around your lips.

he mocked with a soft and harsh tone. "you can take this cock but you can't even suck my fingers properly? what a fucking baby."

your tears had redoubled on your face, and you had continued to suck again, going so far as to shove his fingers down your throat. the saliva was such that it foamed at the edge of your lips, and your mouth opened wide to work cleanly.

“ r-r....af..rafe” your words were muffled, as he fucked your dirty pussy filling it to the stomach. “s-to…” you had squirted so hard that you felt tingles all over your body like a slight paralysis.

you hadn’t waited long before reaching orgasm. in total, you had four. and rafe was still inside you, pounding into you like you hadn't had sex in a month.

his thumb rubbed your clit as he continued to thrust hard until you felt his cock each time your walls tightened around him, just so he could repeat to yourself how you were so fucking tight for him. you could feel his stomach twitching against your back, as you shifted positions. he had placed your hands above your spine, keeping them linked to sink more easily into you, and control every part of your body.

he released his sperm inside you, the hot rush of his load instantly warming your insides. and you cried out with one last breath, your body falling back onto the mattress.

after that, you showered. you were wearing clothes now, and you looked out the window. rafe had approached you, his hair still wet from the shower, and dripping onto the floor, a towel loosely draped around his sculpted hips.

he grabbed your hand to kiss it, his lips wrapping around your beautiful ring that must have been worth a fortune.

“i feel like your family doesn’t love me.” you confessed softly.

"believe me, it's a good thing." he replied.

"rafe, this isn't funny. i want them to like me, i want to be a part of your family.”

“ listen baby, my father always hated me even when i gave the best of myself to please him, did that kill me? no."

“it didn’t kill you because we don’t die from daddy issues. we are impacted. You want to please your father, and so do i.”

“you just need to be perfect for me, and you are. that’s all that matters.”

“i don’t have the same opinion.” you replied.

rafe had lit a cigarette, and looked up at you, you loved the blue of his pupils. he was so beautiful and unreal. it was just the only deep thing you could read in him.

"obviously you're not of the same opinion. but you don't need to be. either way, we're going to get married in any case."

"i never thought i would be rafe cameron's wife, i never even thought the kook prince rafe cameron would have a wife one day."

“i know you don’t believe in fairytales baby, so open your eyes because you exist.”

It’s been a week since that conversation, and especially since you and Rafe were married. today, rafe was driving you to the family mansion and you were completely nervous at the idea of meeting, finally, spending time with his family for a weekend.

“I’m here, okay?” he placed a hand on your leg.

it was strange this feeling you had in rafe's presence. you were sure he loved you, well, he acted like the perfect boyfriend but there was something so strange deep down. was rafe cameron really capable of loving someone?

you knew him to have a bad reputation. plus, you hadn’t always been the nice girl everyone knew.

to be honest, in high school, you were sometimes mean to boys, especially his type. when you were little, you grew up as a spoiled princess with the world at her feet. you knew something about rafe cameron that made it easy for you to keep him on a leash. but now, it was as if the situation was getting out of hand, or rather, the tables were turning.

you had arrived in the evening just in time for dinner. you greeted ward, his charming young wife and his two daughters, sarah and wheezie. they looked so different from rafe. you sat next to your husband hoping to make a good impression throughout the meal.

"how much did rafe pay you to go out with him?" sarah asked, making an obvious dig at her brother.

"sarah, it's only whores like you who pay to have someone. besides, how much did you spend for topper to agree to go out with you? so easy to spend daddy's money. " had replied rafe.

“oh sure, you can’t spend daddy’s money anymore.”

"enough!" Ward had cut in, banging on the table, making everyone jump. "We have a guest, be kind to each other. We are family."

you had felt rafe tense at the mention of the word family, so as he had done in the car to reassure you, you had stroked his thigh to calm him down.you massaged his thigh and the inside of his leg, gently reaching the bulge in his pants. with your fingers, you caressed the fly, playing with the closure. you were in a playful mood. but it was completely indecent since your in-laws were nearby. but as long as it calmed rafe down, that was all that mattered.

you had talked to everyone. you had a lot of sympathy for wheezie who was just a kid in the middle of it all.

“what if we played a game? in this family, we are very playful.” ward said.

suddenly the atmosphere became more joyful and festive. you had never seen so much excitement in the eyes of these people. even wheezie had a giant smile on his face.

“oh great, i love games ! ” you replied.

rafe hadn't said a word, as if he preferred to remain silent. you should have found it strange but you didn’t say anything. you always wanted to make a good impression with your in-laws.

“what if it was you who chose tonight’s game?” rafe had suggested. “you are our guest after all.”

“okay!” you responded enthusiastically.

sarah clapped her hands. rose looked at you strangely. ward smiled at you like you were his real daughter and wheezie...wheezie was always in a good mood. everything was perfectly fine.

rafe had brought you a box full of cards, and you rummaged through it, smiling.

when you opened your eyes, wheezie had read. “hide and seek! my favorite game!”

“I also loved hide and seek when I was little.”

“the rules are a little different…” the father began. "i mean, our rules. we like to play our way, it's more lucrative.”

“ you will be the only one to hide. and we will all try to find you.” the littlest girl explained.

“okay.” you replied.

“you don’t ask what will happen to you if we find you?” sarah asked, looking at you strangely but still with a pretty smile on her lips directed toward only you.

“for that, you have to find me first.” you replied.

“ seems like you're a really fun girl. ” sarah replied, winking at you.

“so find me.”

you started the game, venturing into the gigantic corridors of the mansion.

it was quite funny running around a house that looked like a castle in your stunning beautiful wedding dress. rafe had asked you to wear it, and you had listened to him, now here you were wandering upstairs with your petticoats flying above your quick steps.

you found a hiding place under the bed.

you waited several minutes before hearing someone walking down the hallway. you could hear each footstep hitting the ground. after a second of silence, the door slid open with a creak to let an anonymous person enter.

except that you had heard another loudly noise, that of a weapon being reloaded, and you placed a hand on your cheek. your heartbeat accelerated.

“i know you’re there. i know it because i can feel how scared you are.”

you recognized wheezie’s voice. and you wondered how such an innocent thing could hold a gun in her hands.

you had crawled to the other side to get out of the bed, facing away from her completely.

except she was quicker and drew the gun in front of you, her weapon aimed at you. “not a move, or i shoot you.”

"wheezie, it's me! don't shoot. what does that mean?"

“that you just lost.”

“wheezie don’t do that.”

“how are you going to stop me when you’re trapped?”

you had seen rafe slip discreetly into the room before shooting his sister in the back, without any qualms. you let out a cry of amazement. his cold face and feelings made you step back from him.

“ are you sick?? how can you do that? it’s your sister, rafe.”

“it was her or you. oh sorry, maybe you wanted to die? i can arrange that if you want.”

“no, i mean...why?”

“ok, maybe i lied to you.”

"so that was it...rafe cameron can't be perfect. no, rafe cameron is lying. you cannot lie to me. we're married, i'm your wife ! does that fucking mean nothing to you ? "

"this is not an ordinary hide and seek. the goal is for us to find you and kill you."

“you explain to me, what the hell is this? i absolutely don’t want to die. and there is no way you will let me with that faith.”

"eh...i'm here, i'm here for you, okay? do you trust me, baby?" he cupped both of your cheeks and placed his forehead against yours. "i swore loyalty to you, remember? i'm going to take care of you. now if you don't mind, we don't have much time before my family arrives. so follow me."

he took your hand and you followed him. you had started to go down the stairs when you came across ward and rose. when they saw your anguished look, your paralyzed eyes and the blood on rafe, they understood quickly the situation.

"rafe. " ward had warned. “let go of her.”

rafe had shown you another way and you had gone that way. but you weren't reassured because even though he was with his parents and let you gain time, sarah was somewhere nearby.

you went to the garden. and that was a fucking maze too. you were tired and sick of these giant hallways, and especially, running toward you had no idea where. you just wanted to escape the mansion and that whole crazy cameron family. it was not supposed to end up like this.

"don't try to run away, sweetheart . the game isn't over. "

you jumped when you heard sarah's voice behind your back. she had a loaded gun in her hands, ready to shoot your skull.

“scream and i'll make sure you have no more voice for the rest of your life, darling."

“sarah, i beg you, don't do this. you don't have to kill me.”

“ unfortunately for you i'm not rafe. those crybaby tears don't work on me. move one more time, and i will long for your corpse.”

you stopped moving, and sarah came closer.

except that the scene had happened atrociously quickly. you heard a gunshot, and her body fell onto the cool grass, with a stream of blood that covered your white dress in a red.

you thought this was the end of the game but a gun was now planted to your head.

you recognized this breathing, this warm, metallic smell of blood that was on yours too. it was rafe.

“rafe, what are you doing? it's me, your wife. ”

he pushed the barrel of his gun against your cheek, his finger pressed on the trigger, playing softly with the button to make you shiver even more. and his face was stuck on the other side of your cheek.

the beads of blood on him was now on your skin, dripping in drops against your mouth, sliding in the flesh of your opened lips, his sweaty nose sinking near your jaw.

"you don't want to tell me how innocent you are, and that you don't deserve all this? this is your final hour."

“does it please you to see me scared to death?”

"yeah, do you want me to tell you how much ?"

"rafe, i'm serious! don't kill me. i'm not your enemy.”

"i killed absolutely everyone. my father, his whore, my sisters. and it will happen again. "

“ so you wanted a wife, and now you want to kill me ? you’re crazy, rafe. ”

"because i wanted you to be, pumkin. it's not destiny, i planned everything. when you found out that i fucking killing people. you remember last summer and even those before? i had to have control over you, especially after all the blackmail you put me through, i wanted to play with you even more and you fell into the trap. and you were an easy prey because with your bad past, your family moved out, your friends all left you. was so fucking easy to have you because you needed someone so badly. you were so blind and desperate to have someone on your side that you believed that i could love, but above all, you thought and wanted to believe that it was possible that i loved you. i thought you were smarter than that, but that doesn't matter, because now you will die and it doesn't matter anymore.”

you had too many tears to count them, and even to see them flow. your throat was so tight you could barely breathe, feeling a deep knot stuffed on the inside.

you hated how everything was so clear now, rafe cameron’s sudden interest in you, the strange feeling inside you, this marriage proposal, the marriage. he had been so good, so perfect that you had never once been doubted by his acting.

rafe cameron lied as well as he killed. or you were too naive. as he wanted you to be too...

you swallowed the information with difficulty to accept the hard truth. your stomach was in knots, a furious urge to vomit but instead, your lower lip was trembling, your body was running through shivers because you still had that gun threatening you, the metal rubbed through your wild tears.

you weren’t even sure if rafe was the one responsible for this nightmare. you had your part of responsibility. you played with the fire, and you no longer knew how to put it out. you lost control.

“do you know how much i hate you?”

" oh no, that's not true. your heart is beating pumpkin, and it's not because you hate me, and even less because you're afraid. but because you love me. and it's going to kill you. “

“you’re wrong.”

you turned around to grab his gun. you managed to catch him by surprise. and he smiled. you faced his face full of blood, bleeding from his nose to his jaw. he wiped away a few trickles with the back of his sleeve.

“i’m the one who’s going to kill you.”

“don’t make me think you’re going to pull the trigger. or at least, look me in the eyes. don't you want to see me fall after all that fight ?”

“do you want to bet, rafe cameron? because in this case, we are going to bet on your life.”

“sweetheart.”

“oh no, don’t try to stop me.”

“i was going to tell you to aim carefully, because if you miss, you will be the only corpse of the two of us.”

“fuck you!”

“i would love to babe but you have a fucking gun pointed at my head. i have to be careful.”

"know that i loved you,rafe cameron. i tell you this because i want you to know that someone loved you, that you could have me with you for the rest of your life but you ruined everything.”

“what do you mean ?”

"that you could have had a better life, but rafe, let me tell you that you always liked being a loser. you don't want to change, and i won't try to fix you. not after all that bullshit. "

and you shot. one time. two time. the last in the heart.

you watched as blood spurted from his chest, as his body fell to the ground.

you sat astride him, his frame between your legs, your hands covered in blood around his face.

“ you're just a child and you know it. nothing in my heart is hoping you'll come back. ”

you grabbed him by the jaw and leaned down. his eyes weren't yet closed when you placed your lips on his to steal his last breath of life.

his lips were cold and covered in blood, kissing yours limply.

you sat next to him, placing your hand next to his, and he held it. but it was rafe cameron, you couldn't tell if it was love or hate.

your marriage was ruined, and everyone around you was dead. but at least you had survived. with as much blood on his hands as the camerons. but you were alive.

and that was the only thing that mattered....for now.

[juustokaku]

Confidentiality - Chapter 2. - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader

Introduction: Joining a peer support group for mentally ill was a good idea for the last two times you were there. Then it's only natural for the third time to go well too, right?

Pairings: yandere!Hongjoong x reader, yandere!Seonghwa x reader, yandere!Yunho x reader, yandere!Yeosang x reader, yandere!San x reader, yandere!Mingi x reader, yandere!Wooyoung x reader, yandere!Jongho x reader

T/W: This story will include talk about mental health struggles such as body dysmorphia, paranoid thoughts and more. Dark themes are to be expected.

A/N: Big thank you to everyone who read the first chapter and reads this one! This chapter has a lot of focus on Jongho. I'm honestly not happy how this turned out, but I hope at least someone will find it enjoyable! I appreciate feedback, so if the story feels too slow for example, please tell me. Also, don't worry; there will be more about the other members later on in the story! I just don't want to make the pace or character development too fast or overwhelming. Please, forgive me; English isn't my first language.

Word count: 3 477

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Sometimes you really wished you had a car. If you just had the nerves to drive you wouldn’t have to wait for the bus in the icy air. 

There was nothing wrong with the waiting itself. At least you usually had time for your own thoughts and breathing to settle down, when you waited for the bus, for your psychiatrist to invite you in, or for work to start. You always arrived to your work place an hour too early to minimize the risk of being late. 

So sure, there was nothing wrong with waiting. The problem was that Jongho was standing next to you. 

You had wished to not meet anyone from the peer support group before the inevitable. Life was already hard enough, and you didn’t need any more stress by seeing one of the madmen from the group on your free time. Although Jongho was seemingly less insane than Yunho for example, he was in the group for a reason. 

You noticed how Jongho’s breathing was much calmer compared to yours. It would have seemed like he wasn’t breathing at all, if the soft fog didn’t form in the air near his mouth. That’s how silent he was. 

The little glances you took in his direction weren’t probably as secretive as you thought, but you didn’t care that much at the moment. He looked mesmerizing as the sun was soon to set in the horizon, casting light on his handsome features. 

Although he looked irritated that the Sun was shining directly in his face, you didn’t turn to look away. He narrowed his eyes, and you took advantage of the fact that he was blinded by the Sun and its rays reflecting from snow. 

“Stop staring at me.” 

You turned your gaze away quicker than it was humanly possible. How was Jongho able to see you looking at him? There was no way you could explain your actions without embarrassing yourself even more, so you just hung your head in shame. Maybe it would hide the blush on your cheeks. At least you could lie that it was just the cold air making your cheeks red, if Jongho happened to notice. 

It felt like the silence would never end. A few cars passed by occasionally, and you almost wished one of them would have picked you up and saved you from this uncomfortable situation. 

Suddenly you felt Jongho moving closer to you. A woman had squeezed in the bus shelter Jongho and you were already in. The small bus stop was getting way too crowded to your liking, although only three people were seeking shelter from the cold under it. 

Jongho stood so close to you. You noticed his breath had quickened. His gaze was directed straight forward strictly. Even if you exploded next to him without warning, he probably wouldn’t move his eyes. He was clearly determined not to look at you. 

The woman who just arrived could probably sense the awkward atmosphere too. 

“Why didn’t you tell your last name?” 

You didn’t know whether to be startled by his question, by the fact that he talked or that he even remembered that situation a whole week after it happened. 

Jongho wasn’t as suspicious as Yunho but something about him made a shiver run down your spine. Even his way of standing was enough to make you think he was untrustworthy. 

But it was possible – unlikely, but possible – that he was nothing more than socially anxious just like you. You knew at some point of your life you would have to trust people. Even the ones you had just met for the first time. Your whole life so far had been wasted by no-one else but yourself, because you were too afraid. 

“I’m worried that people will use my personal information against me,” you answered, already preparing yourself to be laughed at. 

It was so stupid. But it was inevitable for Jongho and the others to know about your condition and thoughts at some point. There was no use of a peer support group if you never opened up. 

Against your expectations, Jongho just nodded thoughtfully. 

“I see. It’s true that many people might do exactly that.” 

Your eyes widened a bit. Getting confirmation that you were in possible danger was new to you. Your psychiatrist and therapist always told you to believe good about people unless they proved you wrong, but Jongho was telling you otherwise. 

“You have to choose wisely who to trust. If anyone.” 

“Do you trust anyone?” you asked Jongho before you could stop yourself. 

Jongho was able to surprise you many times that day. You had expected him to get irritated by your question, to push you into the snowbank or under a car. Actually no, that was something Yunho would do. 

Jongho’s face was stable and emotionless, but his voice betrayed him miraculously during the one word he said. 

“No.” 

“Can I ask you a question as well?”  

“I wish I could say no,” Jongho replied to your nervous question. 

You raised a confused brow. It’s not like you were some tyrant, so why didn’t he refuse if he so wanted to? You asked your question anyways. 

“Are you going to the same bus as I am?” 

“Yes,” Jongho put his hands in his pockets. 

Before he could hide them inside the long, beige jacket, you noticed how red they were from the cold. He must have been freezing but played it off cool. 

“Do you want my other mitten?” you asked. 

Jongho couldn’t hide his surprise, and you were shocked at your own words as well. It was not like you to offer something of your own for a practically stranger to borrow. There was always a risk of him running off with your precious glove. He took a glance at your mittens. 

“They’re really warm,” you hoped your attempt to persuade him would turn out successful. 

A hint of something soft flashed in Jongho’s eyes before disappearing like it had never been there. He just put his other hand out, gesturing you to give the other mitten to him. 

As you gave the glove to him, your fingers brushed against his cold skin. 

“How did you know which bus I am taking?” you realized to ask. 

There was a possibility that you couldn’t ignore; Jongho could be stalking you. In just a week after the first session, he could have found out everything about you, including what bus you always took! 

“You already used your turn to ask a question.” 

Why was he avoiding answering? It made you even more suspicious. 

You made sure to sit as far away from him as possible on the bus. 

When you arrived to the therapy room, you had sincerely hoped you and Jongho would be the first ones there. The thought of someone, especially Yunho, looking at you as you walked in through the door made anxious, acid bubbles pop in your chest. 

“Y/N! Sit next to me and San today!” Wooyoung practically ran to you the moment you pushed the heavy door open to enter. 

Glancing at San who was sitting on one of the chairs already, you noticed him flash a smile in your direction. It was a bit reserved yet kind unlike Yunho’s almost smothering, intrusive one. 

Speaking of Yunho, you felt a tall presence looming behind you. Who else could it be? That rapper “Mingus Dingus” didn’t seem interested in tormenting you, and the others weren’t that tall. You could almost see Yunho’s shadow in front of you as he stood behind you. 

“We should keep our original seat arrangements, don’t you think?” 

Someone could have mistaken Yunho’s voice as gentle but it had a sprinkle of tension. 

You flinched as Yunho put his hand on your shoulder to turn you to look at him. His grip was squeezing you almost like he was trying to control himself. 

To Wooyoung and San’s disappointment, you nodded nervously to Yunho’s suggestion. Oh, how you wished you could have run off to hide from him behind San’s muscles, but you didn’t know how he would react to that if he was this irritated already. 

“She’s just too afraid to say no to you,” Wooyoung pouted, “And I don’t blame her.” 

Apparently, you weren’t the only one to notice Yunho’s scary antics. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The atmosphere felt suddenly freezing as Yunho’s usually cheerful voice dropped to a low, icy one. 

“You’re hogging her all to yourself,” San chimed in. 

Everyone in the peer support group had arrived and was watching your conversation intently. Luckily, the realization of that made Yunho back off. With one last glare sent to Wooyoung and San, he retreated back to his chair. 

You sat between San and Wooyoung as the session started. 

“Let’s start the meeting by telling everyone how we’re feeling right now.” 

At Charlotte’s directive, the first turn was given – more like forced on – to Jongho. 

“I feel neutral. Too calm, even. My thoughts, goals and wants are clear.” 

“Do you think that’s a good thing?” Charlotte inquired. 

“No.” 

Charlotte looked intrigued by Jongho’s answer but gestured the person next to him to reveal their mood. 

Yeosang cleared this throat nervously before speaking, “Nothing that different from the usual. I feel scared. The only thing different is that I feel hopeful.” 

“Could you tell us why you’re hopeful?” 

“There’s a person I’d like to get to know. But I’m afraid I’ll make a fool out of myself in front of them.” 

If you had to choose someone who to trust in the group, it would be Yeosang. He was open about his feelings, which you knew isn’t easy, but seemed like he wouldn’t be dangerous. 

You wouldn’t let him fool you into thinking he was completely harmless though. Any of these men could outpower you easily but you wouldn’t let them outsmart you. 

“Okay, next is Mingus Ding- I mean Mingi,” Charlotte corrected herself quickly but already managed to earn a few chuckles. 

You knew the stage name was silly, but still felt a pang of sympathy in your chest at how embarrassed Mingi looked, when people found the name humorous. It wasn’t an unknown feeling to you to get ridiculed, so you could relate. 

“I was feeling pretty excited first but now I’m embarrassed.” 

“What made you feel excited?” Charlotte asked curiously. 

“I’m releasing a new single tomorrow.” 

Wooyoung’s interest piqued, "How many listeners do you have on Spotify?” 

Mingi’s face flushed red, “I’m a SoundCloud rapper.” 

Yunho pat Mingi on the shoulder comfortingly and started describing his own mood next. 

“I feel happy. I had a nice day at work!” 

It was hard to figure out what to feel about his revelation. Just a few minutes ago he had been fuming, and now he sat there with his beaming smile. Had his mood really changed that quickly or was he tricking everyone as usual? 

“Oh, great! What happened at work?” 

“That’s a secret. We have a professional confidentiality agreement at work.” 

“Just like here,” Charlotte smiled. 

You could barely focus as Seonghwa started talking about his frustrating work day at a game store, because of Yunho looking at you. 

Well, at least now you knew that his happy mood had been just a skillful act. His intense stare served as a reminder that you had made the wrong choice to sit next to Wooyoung and San. 

“I feel stressed out. There’s still so much I have to do at work,” Hongjoong’s tense voice brought you back down to Earth. 

“Did you relax during weekend?” 

“No. I worked. I have to keep my company relevant in the eyes of the customers.” 

It seemed to you like Hongjoong was some kind of workaholic. You shouldn’t have felt ashamed because workaholism was a real, possibly life-ruining condition, but you couldn’t help the feelings of embarrassment. Hongjoong was so successful while you had your ordinary work and no ambitious goals other than to feel better someday. 

It was San’s turn to speak, “I’m sad and insecure. Some people at the gym looked at me weird again.” 

You couldn’t understand why someone would look at San weirdly. Sure, you were intimidated by how handsome he was but when he smiled at you today, your heart was about to melt. His eyes were so pretty. 

“What do you mean by weird?” 

“Like they thought I was scary or would hurt them,” San answered Charlotte. 

His sad tone broke your heart. He seemed shameful for making some people afraid of him, but was it really his fault since he didn’t act threateningly? 

Before the pause got awkward, you realized it was your turn. 

What could you tell? If you spoke the truth and said you were a little scared, would Yunho realize it was thanks to him? 

But it was about time to start opening up. All these people were here because of their own problems. All of them had been mentally unwell for years probably, and now focused on only getting better, not planning to murder you. Even Yunho. At least you hoped so, because you were about to reveal your feelings for the first time. 

“I’m feeling...” you looked around the room, trying to analyze everyone’s faces but your sight was getting blurry, “scared.” 

“And why is that, Y/N?” 

“Everything makes me scared. But I recognize it’s just my overthinking. There’s no real threat.” 

Convincing others was much easier than convincing yourself. You could see other people nodding in sympathy at your words. 

“I don’t think that’s just overthinking,” Jongho suddenly spoke up. 

Charlotte turned to look at Jongho with warning eyes. You were already such a mess with your paranoid thoughts that there was no need for Jongho to fuel the fire. 

“Everyone is a possible threat. There is possibly one even among us,” he continued. 

“Jongho, stop.” 

But Jongho didn’t care about Charlotte’s demand. 

“Someone who presents themselves as a leader of justice may as well be a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” 

Your heartbeat accelerated by every word Jongho let fall from his lips. Did he know something you didn’t? 

Eyeing the room, you could see thoughtful, worried looks on everyone’s face. Everyone, including Yunho himself, knew who Jongho meant by “a leader of justice”. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Still, no-one dared to speak. An unwritten agreement of silence hung thick in the air, crushing you under its weight. 

“Let’s move on to the next section,” Charlotte informed after a few moments. 

“No! I haven’t had my turn yet,” Wooyoung whined, and for a good reason. 

Soon enough, Wooyoung was describing his mood and past week, paying attention to the important details like what color the car that passed by was and how long he brushed his teeth. 

The story continued for many minutes, and you were sure you’d be listening to him talk for the rest of eternity. Wooyoung’s next comment suddenly woke you up from your slumber. 

“I also saw you, Y/N. You were so beautiful on your evening walk.” 

A bit creepy, to be honest, but his intention was probably just to be sweet. You gave him a sheepish smile in response. 

“Oh! I almost forgot to mention; someone was following you.” 

Your smile dropped as you heard Wooyoung’s words. Feeling like you were being watched had always been a thing you suffered from, but that was just work of your “wild imagination” based on what your psychiatrist always told you. But despite all the medication he had prescribed you, the feeling had stayed. 

Maybe you weren’t as crazy as you had thought. 

“Oh, come on. Don’t scare Y/N like that,” Charlotte scolded Wooyoung. 

“But it’s true!” 

“Stop. We are moving on to the next section.” 

You had never seen Charlotte so tense. But she masked her frustration well and changed the topic skillfully, like she had probably had to do many times before with difficult patients. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about Wooyoung’s revelation during the other section as well. Yeosang was your partner in the next section, but your focus was completely on different things while he was talking. 

“A-Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Yeosang’s sad voice finally pulled you back from your anxious thoughts. 

An instant regretful feeling filled you, and you hurried to apologize, “I’m so sorry, Yeosang. I’m... still thinking about the fact that someone had been following me.” 

Yeosang’s body seemed to relax a bit, but his hands were still wrapped around his stomach as usual. He stole a glance at your face before staring at his shoes again. 

“Okay, I understand. I would be worried too. Well, I am worried for you as well. It’s not like I don’t care about your well-being. I mean, I’m not in love with you! But people can still care although they don’t love each other, you know? But that’s not to say I would never be able to love you. I think you’re lovable. Everyone is. Well, maybe not everyone, but you definitely are!” 

Wow. You did not expect that logorrhea to escape his pretty lips. 

Your shock was clearly evident because Yeosang hid his face immediately and murmured almost inaudibly, “I’m sorry. Did I make you uncomfortable?” 

It was official. Yeosang was the one you trusted the most. Even his rambling had been cute, but his sincere, caring apology made your heart ache in a way that wasn’t sadness. 

You were surprised by your own attitude as well. It wasn’t like you to consider trusting someone after a second meeting. Although you’d be careful, you felt more at ease with Yeosang’s presence already. 

“No worries. I think it was funny – in a good way.” 

Yeosang smiled shyly in response and even managed to meet your eyes for a split second. 

You two continued chatting away, at least tried to, although it was hard with both of you being so shy. Despite the moments of silence, you didn’t feel awkward. Anxious, yes, but that was because you genuinely hoped for your potential friendship to bloom. The instant connection between you two was as clear as day. 

Sadly, everyone did not appreciate the fact that Yeosang had gotten closer to you than anyone had so far. 

The house was starting to get void of people after the session finally ended. Your boots and jacket were on, your hand on the doorknob, ready to open the front door and freeze in the breeze of a winter night. 

“There you are. I thought Yeosang had snatched you away.” 

You turned around to see Jongho standing at the top of a staircase. His face wasn’t visible due to the low lighting in the room, but you recognized his stable voice. 

“I’ve been waiting to get you alone,” he started descending the stairs by taking one step down. 

“Why?” 

Your ever so slightly trembling voice didn’t faze Jongho. 

The stairs creaked a little as he took two steps down, “Do I make you nervous?” 

“A little, to be honest...” 

Jongho didn’t answer you. Only after he had taken three steps down, you gathered the courage to repeat your question. 

“Why did you want to get me alone?” 

“Make a guess.” 

It wasn’t that you couldn’t come up with any reasons. You just couldn’t make any sense of the mess inside your head. 

You saw Jongho taking more and more steps, getting closer. Like frozen in place, you could just watch him approach you. His blank expression left you clueless, having no idea what he could possibly want from you. 

And soon enough, Jongho stood in front of you, looking in your eyes. You had felt much more comfortable with Yeosang’s avoiding eyes than the intense yet emotionless gaze Jongho was forcing on you. 

The room was dimly lit and the lights formed shadows on his face. Earlier today, you had seen him at the bus stop with the sunlight shining on his face. It had been a beautiful sight. Now, the light was completely different. It was artificial, and although warm, it made Jongho look like a different person. 

He reached for your hand before you could flinch away, and placed something in it. 

It was the mitten you had lent him. 

“Next time, sit beside me,” he said. 

You were left alone, standing like a fool, as Jongho disappeared into the night. Millions of thoughts raced in your head, but eventually you pulled the mittens in your hands. 

Just as you slipped your hand inside the warm mitten Jongho had given back to you, something fell out of it. 

Your winter jacket rustled quietly as you reached down and picked up the object from the floor. 

It was a small piece of paper. There was a handwritten sentence on it. 

“You’re not as observant as you think you are.” 

<- Chapter 1.

Chapter 3. ->