#I'm saying give them the slow burn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reilemon · 3 months ago

Text

🍷Ambrosia🍷

♡︎ synopsis: You give Sylus a private pole dance show.

♡︎ pairing: Sylus x fem!reader

⭒˗ˏˋ𓆩 ⚠ 𓆪ˎˊ˗⭒MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)⭒˗ˏˋ𓆩 ⚠ 𓆪ˎˊ˗⭒

♡︎ cw: pre-relationship, pole dancing, lap dance, cowgirl, missionary, creampie

♡︎ word count: 4.2k

♡︎ a/n: If you don't like how I wrote Sylus pls don't say anything. 😭

♡︎ a little gift for my dearest friend and my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎

divider by @cafekitsune

"Why are you walking by yourself in the city at 1 am?" Sylus asks you over the phone.

You look around, searching for Mephisto. You sigh when you fail. "I just wanted to sober up on my way home."

"You can sober up in my car." And as if on cue, a familiar black car pulls up next to you.

The other line cuts off and Sylus exits, walking around and opening the passenger's door. "Get in, sweetie."

You cross your arms. "I don't wanna get car sick."

"You won't. I'll drive slowly."

"But I'm like five minutes away from my apartment." You look around at the empty street. No people and no surveillance cameras. You did pick out a weird route, but it was in a peaceful neighborhood. "Why don't you walk with me?"

Sylus' shoulders slump at your request. Not because it's unreasonable, but because he hoped the car ride would be more than five minutes long.

After parking the car, he returns to you carrying a water bottle and a paper bag with a logo of a donut shop. He hands them over, and you accept, feeling guilty.

"Did you get these for me?"

He shrugs. "I always drive by that place, so I got curious and bought some."

"Oh... Oh?" Your eyes land on a stain on his shirt. Blood? No - "Is that jam?"

He glances down "Right, I tried one and it spilled on my shirt. I can just get a new one."

You roll your eyes. "Of course you can. I have something that can remove the stain."

When you turn to start walking, he grabs your hand and loops your arm around his. "Slow down, I don't want you to trip."

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♪ ฅ₍ᓀ‸ᓂマ ੭ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Just when you locked the doors of your apartment, it hit you that Sylus, the infamous leader of Onichynus, your friend (?), is in your apartment. At 1 am, for the first time. The apartment isn't messy, but you still would've prepared it more. For instance, you would've put away the pole standing in the middle of your living room.

Of course, that's the first thing Sylus notices. "You like to pole dance, kitten?"

The question sobers you up immediately. Your face and ears burn in embarrassment, and you can feel sweat forming on your back. "Um, sometimes. When I have time." You scurry away to the kitchen to put away the food, Sylus chuckling behind you. You wouldn't be so flustered if you knew those cool, energetic moves. No, instead, all you know is the sensual, seductive ones. They're like a breath of fresh air, given the nature of your job.

You go back to Sylus who made himself comfortable on your sofa, taking in the new environment. "I have a men's t-shirt that could fit you, and I'll return your shirt the next time I see you."

With a slight glare he responds "I'm not wearing another man's clothes."

You sigh "It's mine. I like to wear baggy clothes around the house." Although, you can't help but smile a little at that display of jealousy. Was it, though? Or are you just being delusional?

You wish it was.

His face returns to the neutral relaxed state, with his usual amused smirk. The face, you noticed, he only has when he's around you. It wasn't like that in the beginning (let's not talk about the beginning), but the more time you spent with him, the more you got to see his gentle side.

Lost in your daydream, you didn't notice that he was almost done unbuttoning the stained shirt, revealing he doesn't have anything underneath.

When he completely takes it off, your eyes are glued to his torso. This is your first time seeing him completely shirtless, leaving you unable to peel off your gaze from his chiseled muscles, broad shoulders-

"It's rude to stare, sweetie."

You blink, snapping out of the shameless ogling, taking the shirt that was lingering in his hand for a moment as he was trying to hand it to you.

"I wasn't staring." You, again, make a run for it, this time to your bedroom to fish out a clean oversized t-shirt for him. When you return to the living room, your eyes are fixated on his face, fighting the urge to look down and stare at his physique.

He thanks you and puts it on. It fits almost perfectly, and although he's covered, the sight is making your heart flutter.

He takes a whiff of the fabric. "Smells nice."

After a brief chat about laundry (of course Sylus doesn't do it, but knows how to, apparently), you turn towards the bathroom, claiming "Trust me, I'll make that stain disappear."

"I bet you can't."

The accusation makes you stop in your tracks. "I bet I can! And if I win, you'll get me something pretty."

Sylus chuckles, eyeing you from head to toe. "If you lose, you'll dance for me."

Fell right into his trap.

With a shaky voice you refuse, "I don't think so. Pick something else."

Sylus raises an eyebrow, genuinely surprised at your declining of the bet for the first time. "Oh?" He notices how you're shifting where you stand, averting your gaze. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

You shake your head "You didn't, it's just that - " You trail off, an idea popping up in your head. By now, Sylus can read your face with ease, so he smirks when your eyes light up and he listens intently. "How about, if you actually want me to put on a little show for you, you buy me a bottle of my favorite perfume?"

You've been running low, and it's currently out of stock literally everywhere you looked. If he actually wants to see you dance, he'll have to put in a little bit of work. Not only is the perfume out of stock, he doesn’t even know which one is your favorite. At least you never told him. And even if he, by some miracle, finds it, you'll just do a few spins and take your perfume. It's not like he asked you to give him a lap dance. You probably wouldn't be opposed to it, though.

He raises his eyebrows before nodding. "Deal."

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♪ ฅ₍ᓀ‸ᓂマ ੭ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

As you shut the door of the bathroom, Sylus slowly sneaks his way into your bedroom. Actually, it’s not sneaking in if you left the door open, right?

However, he's not a creep who uses this opportunity to go through your underwear drawer. No, he goes straight to your vanity and takes a sniff of every fancy looking perfume, remembering almost every single scent and occasion you wore them on.

The water stopped running in the bathroom. He needs to wrap this up. There's one more bottle, the printed logo and letters worn out, almost empty. He chuckles, as he wonders if this is the one since you're running low and want him to replace it. You could've just asked him to and he'd get you ten more.

His eyes roll back as the ambrosial scent hits his nose. That's it, that's the one. Oh, how he adores it. It smells intoxicating when it's on you. And you're wearing it tonight, him catching a hint of it when you met up and he had to fight every fiber in his body not to bury his face in your neck, taking in your perfume and the feel of your soft skin.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♪ ฅ₍ᓀ‸ᓂマ ੭ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

At the doorway of Sylus' bedroom, you stare at the pole installed in the middle of the room. When he said to take the now stain-free shirt to his bedroom, you thought it was odd since, well - why would you go into his bedroom? The last time you were here, was to search for that brooch and he kicked you out every time. Except for the last time, when you succeeded in finding it, the moments on his bed that you fantasize more often than you'd like to admit, where you wish it led to something more.

"You know you're allowed to enter?" Sylus' teasing voice appears behind you.

You peer at him over your shoulder "You already have the pole installed? Without even getting the perfume first?" After all, it's only been a few days since you last saw him, and when you gave him the challenge.

"Take a better look, sweetie." He nods in the direction of the desk.

You take a step inside to get a closer look, with Sylus trailing behind you to stand next to you. Of course, there it is - the bottle of your favorite perfume waiting for you. Sylus smirks in self-satisfaction as your face is too easy to read now, you can't lie your way out of this.

Nor do you want to.

"Well," Sylus gestures towards the bed, "I took the liberty of ordering some outfits for you."

You then eye the clothes that you didn't notice earlier, gawking at the stunning pieces that ranged from coverage to more provocative, and all in your favorite colors.

You turn to him, eyes wide "I - " You don't even know what to say - you want to thank him, but at the same time you didn't expect him to do all this. You know that he is as generous as he is wealthy, but his thoughtfulness always catches you off guard. One of the main reasons why you like him so much.

He chuckles at your cute reaction and pats your head. Then he takes the shirt that was still in your hands and walks towards the door. "I'll give you half an hour to pick out an outfit and warm up."

"Wha - ?"

He shuts the door behind him.

Fuck.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♪ ฅ₍ᓀ‸ᓂマ ੭ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

You took more time trying on your new pole outfits than warming up, leaving you with only five minutes to frantically pack them in an empty box you assumed was for the clothes, and to actually warm up. There was nothing underneath the skimpy outfit you picked out, since you had to get rid of your underwear that was ruining the look. There were even some heels waiting for you, and even though you didn't have to wear them, you couldn't resist. You put some of your favorite perfume on, of course, and in the middle of the brief warm-up you thought of one more detail.

There's a soft knock on the door and you frantically exit Sylus' closet, almost tripping in your high heels as you go back to the pole.

Sylus enters the room and you can see that he's stunned for a brief second, as he sees you wearing heels and one of his silk robes.

He closes the door behind him and comments with an amused smile "I don't remember displaying my robe on the bed."

You fidget the soft fabric of the belt, trying to ignore the thumping of your heart as the reality of the situation is starting to settle in. The pole next to you, Sylus asking you which playlist he should play, your nose picking up the familiar scent of his fabric softener.

You must've looked like a deer in headlights, because Sylus' concerned frown as he calls your name snaps you back to reality.

"Are you okay? You don't really have to do this -."

"No, I'm fine!" You clear your throat, steeling your resolve. You want to do this. "I was just trying to remember the song..." You grab your phone and hand it over to him to connect it with the stereo and go back to wait by the pole.

You may have fantasized about dancing for him more than you'd like to admit - and not just in these few days since you last saw him. You also may have more than one song that reminds you of him and that you created choreographies for.

While setting up, Sylus sits down on the sofa in front of you.

He can feel your eyes on him.

"What?" He asks, still setting up.

“Nothing.” You look away and do some of the last warm up moves. You wanted to jokingly ask if he expected a lap dance, but you chickened out. The deal was for you to just show off some of your pole dance moves, that’s it. No striptease, no lap dancing…

You collect the courage to make the joke anyway, but just as you open your mouth the first notes of the song you picked out hit your ears.

He puts your phone away and makes himself comfortable in his seat - legs spread, hands resting on his thighs, lips pulled in that smirk, his eyes fully focused on you.

So you give him your most confident-looking smile, grab the pole with one hand and start walking around it. You drag the platforms of your shoes across the floor, just gliding around before getting into the show-off moves. Your movements are fluid, making it looks so easy - from spinning around to air walking. The music and the dancing soothe your anxiety and lift your mood. You know you look good. After a few spins, the silk robe starts getting in the way. With your back turned to him, your hands untie the belt and slide the robe off your shoulders. You look back at him with a playful grin, and you can't help but feel smug at how immersed he is in your performance, one arm now resting on the backrest, eyes raking over your whole body and face, anticipating your next move.

The robe slips off completely and you toss it away somewhere. You feel your cheeks heat up as the air hits your newly exposed skin. This is the first time you've showed so much of yourself to Sylus, and you couldn't help but feel a little shy. But then you see him shifting in his seat, face a little more serious, the attention giving you butterflies. With so much of your skin exposed, you show off some of the advanced moves, and you feel a new boost of confidence. You know it’s stunning - the way you look in your revealing outfit and how you perform these moves with ease.

The other half of the song starts playing, and you decide to shift from the pole to the floor. Fixing your gaze to the side, on Sylus, you go down on all floors, slowly gliding your upper body, your butt propped up, giving him a perfect view of your silhouette. Red eyes follow every step and take in your expressions that go from focused to playful and a little flirty.

Maybe more flirty than you realize.

You lie on your back, lifting your legs and move your hips side to side, making slow waves with your legs. With every next move, you're bolder, more provocative, locking eyes with him as you move.

In the brief silence between the songs, Sylus chuckles "Is that all, kitten?"

You know he's teasing. After all the time you spent together, some of them literally tied to each other, you know how to recognize the slight differences in his tone.

You know how to tease too. Smiling mischievously, you get on all fours, back arched, and slowly crawl towards him, cat style.

Sylus' lips stretch into a half grin as he watches you close the distance, with you now on your knees by his feet. He loved every second of your performance, his admiration for you only growing, always unconsciously proving to him that you are worth every second of his time and every bit of effort to be more patient. But every moment of that performance made his patience run thin. The craving, the need for you – it’s starting to overtake him. The sensual moves, the most provocative outfit he picked out but thought he was pushing his luck with, they made your body, made you, irresistible. He needed to deflect. He loves teasing you because your reactions are always so cute and amusing. He expected a pout or a snarky comment but instead you started crawling towards him and-

You graze your hands over his thighs, feeling the muscles under the fabric of his pants twitch with your touch and stopping just around his hips. Then, you gracefully stood up and turned around, arching your back and moving your hips to the rhythm, giving him a nice view of your butt. As you look over your shoulder, you have to bite back a self-satisfied grin when you catch his gaze raking over your body, not being subtle about it at all. You turn to face him, hands grabbing onto his shoulders as you position yourself to kneel over him, and with every fiber in your body, you fight the urge to just sit on his crotch, to feel if he's hard at all. So you lean back, arms behind your back and holding onto his thighs as you stretch your torso and you roll your hips, your eyes locked with his.

With the second song almost over, you lean towards him, your lips tickling his earlobe, your eyes catching the goosebumps on the skin of his neck and the redness on his ear. "I guess this is all I got."

And just when you're about to push yourself off the sofa, Sylus' strong hands grab you by the hips, pressing them down on his clothed erection, a yelp escaping your lips upon contact.

"Are you sure?" His red eyes, illuminated by the low lights of his bedroom, are on you, lidded with lust.

Just a bit more.

You sigh innocently and avert your gaze, resting your arms on his shoulders, your hips moving lazily over the rock hard erection, earning a choked grunt from the man under you, his hands gripping the soft flesh of your hips and butt.

"Well..." You trail off, steadying your breathing as arousal started rapidly coursing through your body, making your mouth dry and pussy wet. "I think - !?"

Sylus' hand wraps around your jaw, making you look back at him. His lips are parted, cheeks flushed, and you don't think you've ever seen his eyes looking at you with such intensity.

Out of breath, he asks you, "Can I kiss you?"

"Y-yes."

His lips take yours in a searing kiss, the hand on your hip trailing over your back and pressing between your shoulder blades, while the hand on your jaw finds its way to the back of your head. It feels like an out of body experience to finally kiss Sylus, to feel his soft lips you've been eyeing for so long, to bury your fingers in his silver hair, to taste mint and red wine on his tongue, to feel the pulse on his neck under your hand. Your clothed pussy was fluttering, desperate for some attention, so you started moving your hips again, grinding against him, drawing out a low groan from the man.

"If you keep doing that I can't hold back any longer." He warns in a low voice against your lips.

You take his 'warning' seriously and suddenly sit up, kneeling above his lap once again. A flash of confusion (or disappointment) on Sylus' face gets quickly overwritten with surprise, followed by a cocky grin as your hands go to his belt.

He puts his hands over yours, making you look back at his eyes that softened a little. "Are you sure?"

You nod and try to shift your attention back to his belt, but he grabs your chin, his face a breath away from yours. "I need you to use your words, kitten."

You swallow thickly, the blood rushing under your cheeks and ears "Yes, I can't wait anymore."

Sylus gives you one more breathtaking kiss before he opens his belt and unzips his pants, hissing in relief as his hard cock is freed from his underwear. Your eyes widen as they stare at the sheer size of it, your pussy fluttering in anticipation.

You move the bottoms of your outfit to the side, making him groan as he catches the sight of your naked pussy lips, "Fuck, you had nothing underneath this whole time? You'll be the death of me."

Your chuckle is replaced by a soft whimper as he grabs his cock by the base and guides you by grabbing your hip, the tip sliding along your wet folds, grazing your clit. It slides right against your entrance, dipping in and out of your hole, each time a little deeper, before the tip is fully inside and you're already seeing stars. Now both his hands are on your hips, slowly guiding you down as he watches your face intently, a single drop of sweat sliding down his temple.

"You can take it, pretty girl." He chokes back a groan as your walls squeeze around him as he enters you deeper. It takes him every last bit of restraint not to thrust up into you and fuck you senseless.

He rubs soothing circles on your bud, making your legs twitch, the stretch of his dick already stimulating enough to send you over the edge. With a few shallow pumps, he fully enters you.

"That's it, you're doing so good." Pulling you into a tight embrace, his lips find yours, teeth nipping and tongue licking your bottom lip before he trails over your jaw to the sensitive skin of your neck. Holding onto his broad shoulders and nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, you slowly start moving your hips, sweat starting to drip from your back and your chest. He takes off your top, leaving you with only your bottom and the heels on your feet, while he's still fully clothed as you ride him. His tongue drags over between your breasts, drinking up your sweat, his lips then latching onto your pebbled nipple while his fingers play with the other one.

Your sensitive swollen clit keeps rubbing against his pelvis, as you roll your hips on his length.

Sylus hisses against your breast, "You're squeezing me so tight." He grabs you by the back of your neck, his face now close to yours. With his other hand squeezing your butt cheek, his hips thrust up, meeting your pace. "You gonna cum, darling?"

You can only mewl and nod in response. He notices your leg muscles shaking and hips staggering in their movement.

"Let me take over." He knows you're getting tired, but too lost in pleasure and probably too proud to admit it. He slides further down in his seat, letting your body rest completely on top of him. He holds onto your ass in a bruising grip, holding your hips in place as he starts vigorously thrusting up, the blunt tip hitting all the right places and the base and pelvis hitting your clit over and over until you're a panting moaning mess on top of him. His teeth latch onto the flesh between your neck and shoulder as your intoxicating smell, your voice, and pulsing cunt bring him closer to cumming too.

Just when you're about to come down from your high, Sylus suddenly sits up and throws a pillow from the sofa onto the floor.

"Hold onto me." He instructs and you do as you're told, wrapping your arms and legs around him, allowing him to, as gently as possible, lay you onto the floor with the pillow under your head.

He adjusts himself between your legs and continues the relentless pounding. The view on top of you makes your pussy flutter again - strands of his silver hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, lust dazed eyes fixed on you, pupils dilated you can barely see the ruby red irises, wide shoulders and his whole fucking hot face and body you could stare at forever. But you need to feel his weight on your body.

As if reading your mind, he lies down completely on top of you, using one elbow for support while the other arm sneaks behind you and grabs your butt. "I'm so fucking close." He grunts against your lips, but you're too lost in pleasure to say anything back, only moaning and burying your face in his shoulder as your walls clench around his throbbing dick, the pressure of another orgasm building up.

The hand moves to grab your face, thumb tracing over your cheekbone, the gentle touch contrasting with his ruthless hips, "Let me see you, darling." His voice is both soft and strained.

You're the first one to break the eye contact as another orgasm crashes through you. Sylus' orgasm comes only seconds later, enhancing the intensity as his twitching cock spurts hot liquid inside your pussy.

With the last lazy rolling of his hips, you come down from your own highs, foreheads pressed together as both of you catch your breath. He gives you a soft kiss on the lips, and then just gazes at you with a tenderness you haven't seen before. His fingertips trace over the features of your face. "I hope you can spend the night here."

Of course, you accept the offer. And of course, you didn't sleep at all that night.

#love and deepspace #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #lads sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus smut #sylus x you #sylus l&ds #lads smut #lads x reader #love and deepspace fanfic #sylus fanfic

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gracieheartspedro · 6 days ago

Text

For Cryin’ Out Loud

pairing: post-outbreak! joel miller x afab! reader

how to help the palestinians and what it means to write for the last of us characters

word count: 7.9k

description: living with joel is complicated, especially when you can’t sleep due to nightmares. when you find yourself in his bed, you can’t help yourself. but joel sure can. give him a day to mull it over.

warnings: pretty slow burn, kinda forced proximity, kinda angsty, unspecified age gap (don’t like it, don’t read it), joel gives you tons of nicknames (darlin’, kiddo, etc.), discussions of nightmares and possible mental illnesses, some fluff, reader isn’t really described, joel is kinda a gaslighter, he’s also a bit pervy, unprotected p in v (wrap it y’all), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk, joel like worships you!!!!!, joel licks his fingers clean, giving genitalia pronouns, joel’s a big boy. think that’s it. lemme know what I missed!

author’s note: I really enjoyed writing this. the idea is pretty simple but I love domestic jackson!joel. I promise i’ll try to switch it up soon and write something that isn’t jackson!era lol. support your fav fics by reblogging and commenting!! thanks love ya <3

For some reason, you always find yourself standing at the threshold of the front door when you cannot sleep.

The air was especially brisk tonight. You wrapped yourself in a gray chunky sweater you found in the lost and found in Jackson’s thrift store, hoping to regain some warmth. Your bed may have been comfortable, but it was the place where nightmares usually plagued you.

It was too late to be awake, and you knew that if you were caught, you would hear it from Joel. He always reprimanded you. Every time he caught you up late, it was like your father woke up and found your hand in the cookie jar.

The dynamic between you two had changed since arriving in Jackson, and you almost resented him for it. When it was just you, him, and Ellie, you were managing a family unit. Joel was always the protective father, you being the mom or the voice of reason, and Ellie being chaos.

When Ellie and Joel’s relationship shifted, he took on a fatherly role for you. It bothered you. A lot.

In a moment of contemplation, you hear footsteps coming down the steps behind you.

He’s wearing flannel pajama pants and no shirt, his hairy tummy something you did not see often.

“What are you doing awake?” He questions, his voice groggy with a twinge of annoyance.

You do not feel like explaining yourself, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to get out of this situation without a justification.

You huff, leaning your back against the door frame so you can get a full look at the broad man. “Can’t sleep. Thought staring into the darkness would help.”

He grunts, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “How’s that workin’ for you, sweetheart?”

You could not close your eyes without the haunting dreams that seemed lively and so real. Every night, you had the same recurring ones. You were being chased, hunted, or murdered. Or all of the above. You would wake in a cold sweat, not wanting to shut your eyelids ever again.

“Hm,” You say, staring back outside for a brief moment, “‘Was better when you weren’t looking over my shoulder.”

He chuckles, “Get back to bed.”

“I can’t, Joel.”

“You can and will. You’re no good when you’re tired.”

“If I close my eyes, Joel, I will just have the same goddamn nightmares I have every night. And I will end up doing what I’m doing now, which is trying to get some fresh air to forget them.”

“You’re not gonna forget ‘em with some fresh air. You just need to… get over them.”

The breeze picks up as soon as he says it, almost like the world knew the tension would have to be broken with some frigid air. You retort with, “And how do you get over yours?”

"I just accept them," he says, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "I don't have time to dwell on them. There's always more important things to worry about."

"I'm more tired in the morning when I just endure them." You explain, trying not to cry about it. But you are so sick of them. The same thing every night.

“I get it. One day they will subside, I’m sure of it. But for now, you gotta-”

You just want him to shut up. At the same time, your mind is trying to remember the last time you did not have a nightmare. The memory makes your stomach churn. “You remember that one time we were forced to share that sleeping bag? Back in Pittsburgh?”

“Yeah,” His tone was wary, “What about it?”

"That was the first night I didn't have it." You explain, your voice a bit shaking at the insinuation. You don’t want to face the fact that Joel, the man that you have known for going on 10 years, kept your nightmares at bay. The same man who continuously rejected you and told you that he was old enough to be your dad. The same man that told you no, I don’t like you like that. I never will. That Joel.

“And? Why are you bringing this up now?”

"Because every night I go to my bed and I'm forced to face them alone. When you were there... they didn't even bother holding my mind hostage.”

He took another step closer, closing some of the distance between you two. He towers over you and you can’t help but stare up at him in awe. Joel has always been a complicated part of your life. You consider him your sexual awakening, honestly, but he will never ever know that. Over the years, he’s only gotten more handsome.

But now, he has a curious expression written all over his face.

"Are you saying you want to share a bed with me?" he asks, his voice gruff and low.

You suck in a deep breath, not wanting to answer. You knew that was stepping over a boundary for Joel. He liked his space. He didn’t like you impeding on that space, especially. Your bedroom was the furthest away from his for a reason.

"I don't know." You manage to say.

Joel's gaze darkened, his expression was completely unreadable. You wish you could read his mind, but you should be grateful you can not.

Because in Joel’s mind, he’s trying to formulate a way to convince you to stay away from him altogether. The wall he has built over the last decade was intentional. He did not want to hurt you any further. He already knew you had feelings for him, but he was an old man. He did not want to drag you into his mess, all the baggage he carried. He looked after you, he shared a home with you, and that’s it. Strictly platonic.

He shifted on his feet a little, unable to tear his eyes away from you. You shook like a little leaf.

"You don't know?" he repeated, his voice a low rumble.

You nod, "I don't know if I want that."

You do want that. But you want more, too. You knew you would be playing with fire. You would just be disappointed.

Joel’s temptations are buried deep but they still fester every now and again. Some days he would catch a glance at you getting dressed in the crack of your door and have to take a cold shower. As soon as he felt those emotions bubble in his chest, he would try to distract himself. Maybe he would take a longer patrol. Maybe he would go to the Tipsy Bison and try to find a woman to take home. That one never really worked.

“Well, what do you want then? Because standin’ at the door and letting all the cold air in ain’t gonna work for me or you.”

You look down at your picked-over fingernails and contemplate your next sentence. You don't want to be heartbroken in the morning when you wake up and he's there sleeping peacefully next to you and you're not... his.

"I want to sleep with you."

Joel was not expecting such a blunt response from you, but he appreciated you not beating around the bush about it. He gestures for you to step out of the doorway so he can shut the door, which you do.

He looked down at you, his eyes raking over your face, taking in the exhaustion and uncertainty.

"You sure?" he asked, his voice a gruff whisper.

You just nod as he locks the front door. You couldn’t believe you were doing this.

Joel couldn’t believe it either. Maybe it was the tiredness or the instincts he felt to protect you, but he was not mad at the idea of sharing his bed with you.

You signal for him to go upstairs, “You lead the way.”

Joel’s room was always off-limits to you. So when you step into his small little world, you take it all in.

The artwork around the room was mainly nature landscapes. He had a big dresser right at the room's entrance with picture frames of Sarah, Ellie, and other family members. You were even included in one photo—a picture of you and him on some horses from last year.

A shirt littered one side of the bed, so you took that as it was probably his side. Unfortunately for you, it was the right side. You felt a pang of guilt realizing you would probably end up restlessly lying in Joel’s bed if you were stuck on the left.

Before he can pull back the blanket for himself, you stop him.

“Uh, can I sleep on that side?”

He completely halts in his motions, turning his head towards you with a blank expression. “My side? Why?”

You lick your lips, already regretting this whole thing.

“Because I have had this superstition since I was a kid that I could only sleep on the right side of the bed."

Joel wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. He can tell you are at war in your head about the question, your expression practically anticipating his rejection.

"Superstitions, huh?" he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips."You and your weird beliefs."

You watch as he crosses to the other side of the bed and lifts the blanket. Is he actually letting you have his side? Maybe he doesn’t hate you.

“You could also call it a compulsion, but superstitions seem more fun and less like a mental illness.”

He laughs this time, his deep chuckle making you feel a bit more relaxed about the situation. You did not feel like a burden as much. You walk to the right side and pull back his navy blue sheets and blanket. The spot looks warm and inviting so when you crawl in next to Joel, you start to realize that you’re back in the same situation you were in years ago in that sleeping bag. He was so close and warm and you wanted nothing more but for him to hold you and keep you comfortable.

But then another thing came to mind before you could imagine his arms around you.

You usually sleep on your right side or back, but now you don't know what to do because you didn't know how Joel slept.

"Do you sleep on your side or back?"

Joel studies you as you fidget beside him, your uncertainty causing him to smirk slightly. It was almost endearing, seeing you be completely out of control of your surroundings. He remembers back when you were traveling with him you had an obsessive need to straighten up everything before you fell asleep. You had to roll yourself up in your sleeping bag the same way every night.

"Usually on my back," he said finally. "But I can sleep on my side, too."

You swallow, trying to picture yourself sleeping. For some reason you felt the urge to have control of the situation, dictating exactly how he has to sleep, too. "Can I... I'll sleep on my side if you can sleep on your back? Is that okay?"

Joel had to suppress a smirk at your request. You knew he was trying to hold back a snarky remark. Instead, he surprises you.

"Sure, you can sleep on your side," he agreed, shifting his body weight onto his back, "’n I'll sleep on my back. No big deal."

You turn to face him, tucking the pillow further under your head. You can tell his eyes are heavy from exhaustion. You know it's time to shut up, to go to sleep, but you feel the need to say something else to him. Sometimes your brain concocts questions and statements and you know you shouldn’t say them, but your mouth betrays you.

"When was the last time you had a girl in your bed?"

Why the fuck would you ask that? You think to yourself. It fell out of your mouth like drool.

Joel's eyes widened at your blunt question, surprise and a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. You knew he was probably just expecting you to lay here next to him, maybe roll around a bit, then sleep. But instead, it’s an interrogation.

He took a deep breath, his mind rattling around as he tried to think of a response. He didn't want to admit what his genuine answer was to you, but he too could not help himself.

"Why do you want to know that?" he asks, his voice steely.

You hate that he even responded because now you needed to defend yourself.

"I uh, don't know. I don't know why it matters."

Joel chuckled softly, noting that you probably just had a case of word vomit. You always told him you were infamous for putting your foot in your mouth, especially in awkward situations.

"Curiosity got the better of you, huh?" he asks, rubbing his face with his hands. “You just can’t help yourself, sweetheart.”

He shifted slightly, rolling onto his side to face you, his gaze studying your expression.

You smirk, grateful that he's letting it slide. When he turns onto his side and he's at eye level with you, your face drops a bit. He is ruining the vision in your head. He’s throwing a wrench in your plans.

"You're supposed to be on your back, sir."

Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your comment. He knew he was supposed to be on his back, but the new angle allowed him to see you better in the faint moonlight.

"Don't worry," he said, a hint of humor in his voice. "I'll turn back over in a minute. Just... enjoying the view for a bit."

You roll your eyes, lifting your hands from under the covers and lightly hitting his arm. You knew he was just fucking with you now.

"Okay, for that, I want to know the answer to my stupid question."

Joel let out a low laugh, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He shook his head, amused by your persistence. You start to think about it and you have never really seen him bring anyone home. Maybe it had been a very long time and he was embarrassed.

"Alright, alright," he said, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Last time I had a girl in my bed..."

He paused for a moment, his eyes dropping to the covers, his mind racing to find the right words.

"Go on..."

Joel took another deep breath, his voice dropping even lower as he spoke.

"It's been a long time, kiddo," he admitted, his voice pierced with a bit of shame. "Almost ten years, if I'm being honest."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "No way... You've never just... got it on with someone in bed?"

Joel's face flushed with embarrassment at your blunt question, a mix of shock and slight irritation flashing across his eyes.

"Jesus, you really don't hold back, do ya?" he muttered. He shifts a bit, trying to get comfortable in a different way. He hadn't expected the conversation to turn so personal, so quickly and he did not want to face you anymore. He was mortified.

You mentally slap yourself in the face.

"I'm sorry, I am just tired and delusional. Uh, you don't have to answer that."

Joel could practically feel the humiliation radiating off you and he too felt the exact same way. You knew how to add to an already awkward situation.

"No, no, it's fine," he reassured you, his voice a bit gentler now. "I get it. You're tired, and your filter has taken a backseat."

"Yeah, exactly..."

He shifted on the bed, turning onto his back again, his gaze shifting to the ceiling, avoiding your curious stare.

You could not help but stare at his side profile. A prominent straight nose. His downturned lips are surrounded by some fine lines that show his age. He was a beautiful man now, but you can’t help but imagine him back in his 20s. He had to have been a hit with the ladies back then.

Joel could feel your gaze on him, studying his face. And while you were not scrutinizing him, he felt like a commodity in a museum or something. He forced himself to keep his gaze on the ceiling, refusing to meet your eyes.

"So… ten years and no sex?”

You could seriously, not help yourself.

"Correct.” He grumbles, still not meeting your stare.

"Damn, Joel." You mutter, adjusting a bit to sit up a little more on your pillow. "I seriously thought you were sleeping around the whole time we have been in Jackson.”

He finally turns your way, a bit of offense on his face. “Why would you think that?”

You shrug, not wanting to insult him. But that’s how you formulated your grudge towards him. It was easy to just chalk everything up to problems with random women you have seen around town.

“You just give off the energy…”

“What?”

You huff, laying back on the pillow. “I don’t know, Joel! I feel like when I’m around you all the ladies think you’re handsome. They stare.”

“They are staring because you’re always following me around and we aren’t married or… together. They think we are odd.”

You had never heard such things around Jackson, but it does sort of make sense. Everyone was probably just confused because you two lived together but were not a couple. You can admit it is bizarre, but it just did not feel like an option any other way, in your mind. So Tommy gave you two a bigger house and you set up separate rooms.

But in actuality, Joel secretly told Tommy that he did not want you too far from him. So when Tommy couldn’t give you any other houses nearby, Joel just told him that you two would be roommates.

“Well fuck ‘em.” You mutter, trying not to sound too offended by the thought of people gossiping about you two.

Joel just nods. You settle by tucking your arm under your pillow. You yawn, the exhaustion now taking over your body. You watch Joel grab a pair of reading glasses from the side table and a book. You decide not to bother him, especially because he probably wanted to just read himself to sleep instead of being interrogated by you any further.

You close your eyes and eventually fall asleep. The deeper you get, Joel notices how your breathing pattern changes. When he’s finally ready to get some shut-eye as well, he watches as your body crawls closer to him. Your arm swings over his stomach and rests on his forearm. He is so shocked he does not move a muscle.

You adjust some more, not knowing what you are doing. Your leg creeps up and tucks right between his. You snuggle your face right into his chest. The only movement Joel decides to make is slinging his arm over your shoulders to pull you in tighter.

It’s the first time in years that you two slept soundly, with no interruptions. No nightmares, no sudden intrusions, nothing. Silence and snores fill the room and that’s it.

When you wake up, it’s slow and gradual. Your brain hardly computes that you’re laying on top of Joel’s shirtless frame, until your hand runs across his warm tummy.

You crook your neck up, looking at the handsome man you are spreading across.

His lips are slightly ajar, letting out hardly-there snores. They are so pretty and pink and you cannot help but touch them with feather-like fingertips. You would feel so guilty waking him up-

His eyes slowly open taking notice of your actions even though you tried not to stir him. Your eyes fly open in shock, but he does not seem very annoyed. He smiles.

“Mornin’ darlin’,” He says in a deep sleep-laced voice. You smile back at him, loving that he decided to call you the nickname you always got giddy over. You press your fingers into his chest before replying.

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

His hand comes up from your shoulders and tucks some hair behind your ear as he stares down at you, “That’s good kiddo. I’m glad you slept well.”

The intimacy is almost too much. The way this is how it would be if you woke up to Joel every morning. It sends your brain into overdrive and you force yourself to ruin it a bit.

“Woulda slept even better if you didn’t talk so much in your sleep.”

Joel froze for a moment, his cheeks immediately flushing pink with embarrassment. He sits up a bit more, adjusting to the brighter lighting in his room. He knew he had a problem with talking in his sleep. Ellie used to talk about it all the time. He dreaded hearing what he was saying while curled up next to you.

"Uh... what did I say?" he asked, trying to maintain his composure.

"Something about it felt so good to be pressed up against someone, I don't know..."

You could not help yourself and started to laugh. You knew you were going to get a rise out of him.

Joel's face flushed an even deeper shade of pink as you started to laugh, clearly amused by your joke. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, his mind racing as he tried to come up with an excuse. He was just dreaming, it was not about you.

"W-what?" he spluttered out instead of making an excuse. "I didn't... I didn't say anything like that."

You have a shit-eating grin on your face and you press your hands on his chest to prop yourself up. You enjoyed watching him squirm.

Joel's eyes flickered down to your hands on his chest. He sickly thought they felt so right placed there. He imagined what you would look like fully mounting him.

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but you could see through his stone-cold exterior.

"You're messing with me, aren't you?" he grumbled, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Fully fuckin' with you." You giggle, hoping he is not really that mad at you.

“You’re a brat.”

You move your foot slightly, running it up his leg. It sends shockwaves up his body, having you so close and moving around so seamlessly.

"No, you said something about how beautiful, alluring, and incredible I am. Said I was the girl of your dreams…"

"Yeah, right," he said, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. "You expect me to believe that?"

"So, you don't believe me?"

"No, I don't believe you," he says, his voice stern but playful. "I think you're a dirty little liar, trying to play me for a fool."

"A dirty little liar, huh? Well, it's good to know that you don't think I'm beautiful, alluring, and incredible." You giggle at his acknowledgment, knowing he caught you red-handed.

"Oh, I never said that," he smirked, a hint of teasing in his voice. "You are all of those things, darlin’. But you're also a dirty little liar who likes to play games."

"So you think I'm beautiful?" You crack, the biggest smile painted on your face. You don’t even care that he’s calling you a liar because it does not matter. Joel thinks you are beautiful.

“‘Course I do.”

You push yourself up onto your butt, sitting crisscross next to him. He secretly wishes you were still curled up on top of him.

“You always this nice in the morning?” You ponder, your fingertips starting to toy with the hair on his stomach. He tries not to pay mind to it, letting you have full access to touch him.

But it’s driving him insane. The way you look freshly woken up, completely enamored with the idea of him calling you beautiful. You have some puffiness under your eyes and your lips are more swollen than usual.

“I am always nice to you.”

You let out a scoff, “No, you’re not.”

He notices the shift in your tone and starts to get defensive, “Now you’re just lyin’.”

Joel always loved to gaslight you in these situations. You knew better than to let him get away with it, especially now. “No there was that one time you told me you did not like me and that you would never like me. How you are old enough to be my dad-”

“Because I am!”

And there’s the wall. The only constant in you two’s relationship. He was so good at throwing it up when feelings were being expressed. When vulnerability was presented, Joel could not help but reject it.

“And the world’s fuckin’ ended, Joel! Big deal!” You almost yell, moving your hands from him.

Why does he already miss your hands?

He huffs, crossing his arms over his soft chest. “We have had this conversation for the last 10 years.’M not sure why we keep rehashing it.”

“And every time you turn me down it’s another fuckin’ stab in the heart.”

“You know why we can’t,” He practically growls. You can not stand to even look at him anymore with your bitterness and irritation taking over.

“Whatever, Joel.”

As soon as you say it, you’re already leaving his room and heading to your own. When you slam the door, you hope you have made your point. You want to scream and punch a hole in the wall, but instead you just furiously stomp around the room and grab your clothes. You had patrol at noon, so you needed to get to the mess hall before breakfast was over. You try not to cry as you strip down and get dressed.

Joel sits in bed, reeling. He hates that it has become a conversation every six months. He hated that rejecting you always sent you into a spiral of hating him for extended periods. It’s not that he did not want you, it was simply just not in the cards. He was too old to be in love. He was too old to play house with you. He just could not submit to the idea of leading you on, especially because you had so much more life to live.

He finally works up the courage to get out of bed and put on some clothes. He opts for putting on his typical jeans and thick flannel. It was getting colder and he knew by the end of the winter, you would end up with half his flannels anyway, so he had to enjoy them while he had them.

You storm downstairs, going to the back door for your boots when you spot him in the kitchen.

“You got pat-”

“Yes.” You respond quickly, shoving your foot into your shoes. He stands behind you with a mug full of tea, watching your every move.

“Who are you-”

“Jesse.”

He was asking his usual questions, which you were not in the mood to answer.

“Hey, can you-”

You snap your head back at him, giving him the glare you gave him as a warning usually. By now, he takes it as a hint and backs off. But not this time.

“Can I what?”

He rolls his eyes, “Can you fuckin’ not be a brat about this?”

You wish your glare came with knives. If that were the case, Joel Miller would be dead on his kitchen floor.

You are so thrown off by the question that you just watch him get angrier when you do not respond.

“Are you serious, right now?” You press, keeping your voice from cracking.

He brings the mug up to his mouth, taking an obnoxious sip. When he pulls the mug away, you notice how steaming it is. “You always pull this shit-”

“No, you do! You do this shit to me every fuckin’ time, Joel. You sweet talk me, make me feel comfortable, have me lapping everything up in the palm of your hands, and then you snatch it away. Then have the audacity to get mad at me!”

You are yelling now and it is throwing him off. Joel knows better than to interrupt you like you do to him. You were the kind of person who would calm down if you felt heard.

The way he knew you down to your core made this all so painful. Because if he was not so stubborn and true to his convictions, he would have fucked you the moment you touched his lips this morning.

“I ain’t tryin’ to make this harder than-” “Too fuckin’ late.”

You think back to the moment last night when you knew you were going to hurt your own feelings by sleeping with him. You knew better, yet here you are, still blaming him for your stupidity.

He stands there, still holding his mug, staring you down like a wounded doe who got pierced with an arrow. He feels guilty like he misled you. Before he can say anything, you are lacing up your boots and leaving out the front door without another word.

All day long, Joel wanders around the house trying to get rid of the pit in his stomach. Nothing works. A shower. Reading a book. Cutting wood. As soon as he tried to use laundry as a distraction, he reached into his hamper and found one of your t-shirts. He held it close and smelled it, trying to wrap his head around how he got here.

You spend all day, silently fuming on horseback with Jesse. When he tries to get you to open up, you ice him out and tell him to focus on the trail in front of him.

You get back by sundown, the sun setting making it a lot chiller than you expected. You decide to take the long way home, wanting to avoid being home for as long as possible. You were not ready to face Joel, let alone share a space with him. But unfortunately, during your patrol, you fell into some mud and needed a shower. The more time it spent on your clothes and body, the grosser you felt.

You open the front door, announcing that you are home. It was a habit you and Joel developed after you both pulled guns on each other during late-night arrivals.

You hear Joel mumble something from the living room, but you do not stop to listen and continue on your way upstairs to the bathroom.

You strip down as soon as the door is closed, tossing your muddy clothing into a hamper in the corner. You would get them washed and hung as soon as you shower off.

You hear Joel’s footsteps creaking around the upstairs hallway as you scrub your body with homemade soap and warm water.

When you start to dry yourself off, you hear Joel grunting something in the hallway. You wrap yourself in a towel and peek your head out the door. He’s on his hands and knees wiping something off the hardwood. “What’s goin’ on?”

He looks up at you, your body only covered in a bleach-stained blue towel. It makes his head spin. He can’t even be mad that you tracked in mud.

He swallows, gripping the cloth he’s using tighter. “You got mud everywhere.”

You step out, not even really thinking about the fact that you are not properly dressed in front of Joel. You were still mad at him, anyway. Who cares what he thinks?

“Sorry, I could’ve cleaned it up.”

He returns to wiping the wood, “It’s fine, I got it, kiddo.”

You accept his response and move on to your room, but the draft you leave behind drifts to Joel’s nostrils. Your soap smells like lavender and it always sends his mind racing when you are fresh from a shower. He clears his throat, trying to get through the emotions filling his chest.

But it’s been like this all day. You’re all around him even when you’re not physically here. How can he get away from you? Why is he trying to run in the first place?

He’s on his knees in your hallway, cleaning up your mess, sniffing the air you leave behind because he’s fucking in love with you and he cannot help himself anymore.

Joel starts to think about how peaceful he felt having you next to him last night and how he would love to feel that way every night. For once he’s not thinking about what everyone else would think. For once he’s thinking selfishly and caving into every desire he has ever pondered about you. How would you feel under him? How would your lips feel pressed against his pulse point?

His body was on fire, thinking about you.

You are fiddling with some clothes in your dresser after you flick on the overhead light. You do not hear him come into your room behind you.

You are so wrapped up in your own thoughts that when he clears his throat to announce he’s in your room, you scream. Loud.

“For cryin’ out loud, woman!”

You grip your towel tighter when you turn and see him standing at your mercy.

“Joel, what the fuck?” You yell, gesturing to the fact that you are practically naked. He does not care, of course, and his ears are ringing from your piercing scream. He gathers himself as you shift back, trying to create some distance from him.

He is trying not to gawk at the fact that your grip on the towel against your chest is only pushing up your cleavage. He’s biting back everything. “Can we talk?”

“Talk about what? The fact you crept into my room when I was trying to change? Are we past boundaries now?”

You are pissed, trying not to rattle off another million things to discuss with him. He’s only really talking about one thing.

He scoffs at your last statement. “Boundaries were already out the window when you crawled into bed with me last night.”

Silence fills the room as you completely stop breathing. The anger you originally felt dissipates.

“Joel-“

“I ain’t doin’ this back and forth anymore,” He starts shifting in his spot, unsure if he really should be doing this. “I can’t live how I've been livin’. Somethin’s gotta give.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused.

“You are the one who won’t give, Joel.”

As soon as you say it, he practically drags himself over to you. Completely destitute. You have never seen him look so desperate before. You can tell that he’s been at war with himself ever since you left this morning. His eyes never lied.

His hand creeps up your bare arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

But then you remember his words from this morning. You start feeling like this is just a moment of weakness for him and that he will regret it later. You had to stop it before it was too late. You did not want to deal with the consequences.

“Joel, you said we can’t-”

“Fuck what I said,” He cuts you off, “Do you want this?”

You stare into those brown eyes, searching for a sign of hesitance. You cannot believe Joel is being this vulnerable with you.

But, you do want him. God, you have wanted him so badly for so long. You have searched for him in every man you have ever been with since knowing him.

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. He takes note of your parted lips, every word failing you at that moment.

“Darlin’-”

“Yes,” You finally manage. “Yes, I do want this.”

It’s all he needs. He closes the gap between you two by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his space. His lips crash onto yours, not wasting another breath of air waiting to indulge in his sickest fantasies.

You are all Joel ever dreamed about. He knew that once he caved and physically gave in, his world would be shot and everything would revolve around you. For years it had been a teetering object on a cliff, one nudge would have him falling. He always managed. But now, he was falling head first.

His lips move so perfectly with your own. Your hand released your towel and found the tufts of his curls at the base of his head. You did not care that the article pooled around your feet, leaving you completely bare in front of Joel. You have wanted this all along. To be uncovered, to be stripped down to the rawest form. He broke the kiss briefly just to scan your naked body, his forehead pressed against your own.

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

Your heart stutters as his hand traces your stomach down to your hips, all the way down to your ass. He stops there, grabbing a handful.

“I need you,” You choke out before pressing your lips to his over and over again. “Right now.”

He mumbles “jump” into your mouth and you do so, his hands working quickly to hike you up onto his waist. He carries you to your bed, wasting no time dropping you onto your back.

He cannot get enough of your soft, swollen lips. Every time he pulls away slightly, he dives in again even more aggressively than the last time.

You are so hypnotized by the way he feels on top of you. In the light, he seems so much broader than he was last night. He’s still fully clothed, to your dismay. You start to tug at his shirt, motioning him to remove the articles that are in your way.

He throws off his shirt before he stands up at the edge of the bed and pushes down his jeans.

“Joel… I-“

He just shuts you up with another passionate kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth like he’s trying to melt into your mouth. Your hands trail up his back, gripping onto his shoulders, holding him down so he is pressing against your nude body.

“God, I have wanted this for so long,” He sputters, trying not to sound too desperate. “Been wanting this.”

That’s when his hand reaches down between your thighs and gathers the wetness your slit has to offer. His fingers dance across it, starting from the top all the way to your spongy entrance.

“Please, Joel.”

He loves the lust-laced tone you speak with when you say his name. It almost makes him cum there and then.

You watch as he makes his way down your body, peppering kisses from your shoulder to your hip. When he parts your legs, you feel quite exposed. The adrenaline of being so spread for him manifests into a moan.

“You are divine, baby.”

The use of that adjective is so-not-Joel that it makes you giggle. He notes your reaction and decides to sink down into you. When his mouth gets close to your core, it’s no longer a laughing matter.

He uses his fingers again, using them to spread open your pussy lips. He cannot keep his eyes away from how dripping you are. “This all for me?”

“Y-yes, Joel.”

“God, I was a fuckin’ fool for so long. Could’ve had her earlier and I never fuckin’ caved. Such an idiot.”

Him giving your cunt pronouns was enough to have you throwing your head back and shuttering. His touch was magnetic like he knew exactly what buttons to push as he rubbed his fingers and palm over your core.

“Yeah, you’ve been missin’ out. Every night…” You swallow before looking down at the man that is enamored with your pussy, “E-every night I would lay in this bed, fuckin’ myself just thinkin’ about you.”

He growls at the statement, before teasingly kissing your clit. “Every night, hm, kiddo?”

“God, yes.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as he leans forward more and dives in. His nose is pressed firmly against the top of your pussy, nudging forward every time his tongue enters your hole. When that motion became consistent, you began to note the rumblings in the pit of your stomach. A familiar build-up that you managed to get when you were playing with yourself.

His fingers move in tandem with his lips and tongue. While his middle and pointer finger slide in and out of you, his lips wrap around your clit. It’s overwhelming and all-consuming.

You do not know where to center yourself, so your hands grip the bed sheets you were completely soaking as Joel pulls the first orgasm out of you.

“That’s it, baby, she’s cryin’ for me, hm?”

You hardly make a noise, the orgasm is so earth-shattering that you just writhe on the mattress.

“Oh my god…” You groan, finally able to catch your breath. When Joel removes his fingers from you, you watch as he slowly brings them up to his lips.

When he inserts them in his mouth, you gawk at him, unsure how to react. He watches your expression and chuckles darkly.

“Mm, never seen a man enjoy the taste of ya?”

You shake your head. “Never expected to hear those words leave your mouth, either.”

“Wait ‘til you hear what else I got to say.”

He stands up beside the bed, grabs your hips, and brings them to the edge. He is tossing you around with ease, bringing your lower body flush with his. He yanks down his briefs, revealing himself to you. You instantly take notice of how well-endowed he is. You never thought you would ever be close to his cock, let alone have it lining up at your entrance.

“Joel…“ You stop him with your small voice, but still welcoming him in with your legs opened wide, “I don’t know if it will fit.”

He grins, “It will, baby. Just relax for me, okay?”

You watch him slide his member along your center, the feeling so blissfully overstimulating. You whine a bit, raising your hips to his.

But Joel continues his torture, enjoying the way you’re squirming under him. The way your eyebrows are knitted together, your eyes shut as you grind up into him. It’s the prettiest sight.

“Ready?”

Your eyes fly open as you watch him ease his way into your core, the sound of squelching filling the room. You don’t think you have ever been this wet for someone.

“Oh my fuckin’ god, Joel…”

He smiles as he inches in, “Squeezin’ my cock so good, darlin’.”

When he’s fully sheathed inside, he tests the waters by drawing out slowly. You roll your hips in a circle, trying to feel out every inch of him. He fits, but you know once he starts to move faster, the stretch will become overwhelming.

He’s trying to focus and not blow his load immediately. You look so beautiful below him, your tits slowly shifting back and forth every time he draws back and forth. He reaches out, wanting to feel the flesh between his fingers. God, he craved every inch of you, he realizes.

You open your legs as far as you can, letting him hit you at a different angle. The movement allows him to slip in a bit more seamlessly, so when he speeds up his thrusts, you don’t feel like you will completely split in half.

He brings your leg up to hips, and feeling your soft delicate skin against him makes him lose all sense. His hips snap faster the more you moan out for him.

“Fuckin’ Christ, girl. I can’t believe I was missin’ out on this cunt,” He babbles, “Need this cunt every day from now on. Gonna have you all to myself every night.”

You are too fucked out of your mind to read into those implications.

“‘M all yours, Joel.”

He smiles, slowing down a bit. “Keep talkin’ like that and ‘ll finish a lot sooner than you.”

You sit up a bit, your eyes flickering over his entire body. He notices you checking out his nude frame, which makes him feel a bit more bold. He leans down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. You love the way his tongue slips into your mouth so effortlessly. When he opens his mouth, his facial hair tickles your nose a bit which makes you smile. When his hips pick back up to a quicker pace, it sends you gasping into his mouth.

“Please, Joel,” You whine, that familiar build starts up but this time it’s like a freight train. Moving so quickly down every nerve ending in your body. “I’m gonna cum.”

“‘M with you, darlin’. Soak this dick. I’m right behind ya.”

His dirty talk causes the crash. Your body practically lifts off the mattress. You cry out so loud you are sure a neighbor could hear you. You try to gain your bearings, but you are panting like you just ran a mile.

Joel fucks you through it, but the restriction your pussy is putting on his cock sends him over the edge. His hips stutter into yours, his seed emptying into your spent hole. He just keeps repeating your name as his thrusts slow down.

He has never had such a visceral orgasm in his life. His knees are weak and can hardly keep up his weight. He practically falls on top of you, which does not offend you at all. His warm sweaty body on top of you is almost reassuring.

“You okay, kiddo?” He finally mutters as his hot breath fans the nape of your neck. You just nod, bringing your hand up to his salt and pepper hair. You tug lightly, smiling to yourself.

“I’m more than okay.”

He finally sits up, his cock spilling out of you as he adjusts his position. Your hole drips a mixture of cum onto your newly clean sheets, but you could care less. It’s just another thing to hand wash tonight.

Joel stumbles to the middle of the room, picking up your bath towel. He uses it to wipe himself up before coming over to you. Your legs are still slightly apart so he decides to clean you up a bit. He’s gentle, knowing that you are probably still sensitive.

Once he finishes up, he crawls next to you as you continue to recover. Your bones felt like jello so standing up to adjust yourself was not an option.

So instead of facing him, you stare up at your ceiling fan as his eyes lock onto every detail of your profile. It brings him back to one night you two shared under the stars a couple of years ago. It was his turn to keep watch so you curled up in your sleeping bag by the fire. He admired you from across the flames, the orange hues lit up every angle of your face. It was at that moment that Joel realized that he could not picture his life without you. You had weaseled your way into every facet of his life and he used to resent the impact you had on him. You were younger, more patient but still stubborn like him. You made him laugh, like genuinely laugh, for the first time since the infection. While you may have been a bit impulsive with your emotions, he envied the way you could say exactly what you were thinking.

Joel did not want to love you, but it was impossible not to.

You finally look over at him, noticing the softness in his gaze.

“Are you okay?” You pose, scrunching your nose.

He gives you a toothless smile, his eyes crinkling a bit. “I just can’t wait to sleep next to you for the rest of my life.”

tags of people I love and who may wanna read (no pressure I just love u) (some of u did ask tho) : @ashleyfilm @hockeyhughes @pedrospookie @guiltyasdave @amanitacowboy @myownwholewildworld

#joel miller tlou #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #tlou au #tlou fic #tlou smut #joel miller fanfiction #fic: for cryin’ out loud #the last of us smut #gracieheartspedro

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tbaluver · 2 months ago

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Hey (●’◡’●)ﾉ I really love your works and want to request a short/long story about lads guys reaction when they found out mc/reader has a high s*x drive and she's embarrassed about it ✧(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

It's okay if u don't want to ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁)

I'll understand

P. S: I love youuuu ❤❤❤

If You Had A High Libido- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: MDNI, 18+, suggestive content, oral reader receiving, head canons/ reactions + small smut scenarios a/n: hihi anonnie! i'm so happy to hear you love my works and i hope this was okay lmk ! if not this doesn't exist okay ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) sorry it's taking me a while to write and post stuff i'm currently studying and it's taking up most of my time (っ- ‸ - ς) anyways i hope you enjoy reading ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ p.s i love you too cutie ! your emoticons are soso cute i love them !! (づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

poor baby was so confused on why you wanted to go for so many rounds. he thought he wasn't doing enough for you until he asked and that's when you embarrassingly told him about your high libido

"But....do you feel good?" He asked, tilting his head curiously.

"So good, that I can't get enough of you" You whisper, leaning in to press your forehead against his before pressing a heated kiss on his lips.

Xavier is always there to please you whenever you need or wanted him too. He can handle pretty much anything. If he was tired after many rounds, he'll lie down on his back and let you ride him til you meet your sweet release again. He'll give you plenty of options. You can ride his face, his thigh, whatever you want until you were satisfied.

When he says he'll be there for you, he means it. When you were whimpering softly, desperately ignoring the heat growing down there as you try to go back to sleep. You didn't want to wake up your sleeping boyfriend but it seems he was already awake. You felt his arms snake around your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

"Would you like me to help you?" He knew you would be lying if you said no, even if he slides his hand in between your legs to find you practically soaking already. You bit your lip, feeling his hard erection against your ass.

Zayne:

He didn't understand why you were so embarrassed about telling him. He knows and can read you so well. You can't hide anything from this man. He noticed the way you bit your lip when he licked off the excess ice cream on his fingers or when your thighs clenched when you watched him get dressed.

He would reassure you that having a high libido is natural to have and there is no "normal" sex drive.

"I can assure there is nothing to be embarrassed about having a high libido." He says, his voice remaining monotone as he adjusts his glasses. "Just tell me how I can help you."

He would not be irritated or bothered at all if you needed him. Although if he was busy with work then he'll make a couple arrangements to make sure he finishes his reports while you get your fill. He'll keep you seated on his lap and let you ride off his thigh or he'll keep a toy or his finger or two in you as he continues to finish his patient report with his other free hands.

He'll know what you want whenever you press your ass against him whenever you both cook or whenever you sit on his lap.

He slips a finger under your panties, pulling them down with ease. His cock was hard and he could feel your cunt soaking quickly. He settles you on top of the counter, slowly pushing his length inside of you. His pace starts off slow as your body hums in response.

“That’s it...just like that's my good girl”

The pot that was already cooking was probably close to burning as you two were distracted meeting your sweet release.

Rafayel:

Oh, He loves it way more than he should and he uses this to his advantage to feed off his little praise kink. He just loves to hear his cutie need him so so bad. Hearing you beg and whine for him is like a siren's song to his ears, attracting him closer to you.

"What's wrong cutie?" He asks, tilting his head to the side as he tucks the stray hair behind your ear. You bury your head in his chest, too flustered to admit you wanted more, even after all the rounds you've done together.

"Want m-more" You murmur, your voice muffled against his chest. He chuckles softly, clearly amused, and continues to tease you while gently stroking your hair. "What's that? You need my dick again? Do you want me to fill you up princess?"

You respond by rolling your hips, grinding against him, hoping he would get the idea.

He'll fill you up everyday or whenever you need him too. He loves watching you beg and drip a mix of yours and his juices down your thighs every time as if you were in heat.

"Want me that much? Gonna fill you up so much." Feeling his cum ooze down your legs, his dick going impossibly deeper inside of you. Snapping his hips as whines escape your lips.

Sylus:

“Satisfied baby?”

Your core ached for more and you silently debated on telling him. You knew if you told him you were satisfied, your vibrator or your hands can’t even compare what he does to please you. You rubbed your thighs together, trying to ease the ache that was forming in between them, not realizing Sylus notices this.

He leaned down, tracing kisses down your jawline, to your neck to grab your attention again. “Use your words baby.” He whispers hotly, his warm breath fanning against your skin.

"M-more Sy.."

It does not take him that long to get used to your high libido. If anything he can match your energy or do more. He'll keep going even if his stamina runs out, if it ever runs out.

Sometimes he's uses this to tease you. While he's away for a couple days, he'll send you pictures of his body. His shirt slightly lifted up to give you a tease of his abs and his v-line peeking above his waistband.

If he was feeling mean, he'll send you a mirror pic of his chiseled abdominal, and his carved v-line leading down to the girthiest dick you're familiar with or he'll send you a video of him stroking his dick to get you riled up. "Need my pretty girl to wrap her lips around it"

You're like a drug to him and he's addicted to you. He wants to spend as much time he has with you and he does not find you to be a bother if you were feeling needy when he was in his office.

He buries his head in your folds and you can feel his tongue in and out of you. You push your hips back to meet more of him as he reaches down with one hand to stroke himself. He groans into you, the vibrations bringing you closer to the edge. You reach down to play with your clit as he fucked you with his tongue.

He needed to be inside you as much as you want him to be.

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dilf-c0nn0isseur · 3 months ago

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can you please do a face riding fic with logan and fem reader???

say less🫡

riding logans face - logan howlett x fem!reader

NSFW! MDNI!

"C'mere baby," beckoned Logan. "I wanna taste you."

The huskiness of his voice made your insides burn with desire for him. You didn't wait a single second crawling over the bed to where he was laying, propped up with his back against the wall. You situated yourself beside him and slowly spread your legs open, expecting him to move and go down on you, but he didn't.

"Logan?," you questioned, shooting him a confused look. Did he not just ask to give you head?

There was no response as you watched him slide down against the pillows until he was laid almost flat, head slightly angled against the pillow behind him. With two fingers, he brought them to his chin and tapped. He was motioning you to sit on his face. Your mouth dropped. "Logan, I don't know about that."

"What'ya worried about Bub?"

"I mean," you stammered, "I don't wanna like- suffocate you."

The broody man rolled his eyes at you. "Do I look like I give a fuck?" He continued before you could protest again. "Now, stop being stubborn and sit on my face."

Hell, you couldn't argue with that.

You sat up and swung one leg over the side of his face, hovering above him. Only a couple of inches separated the two of you. A growl rose in his throat. "I told you to sit on my face doll." There was an undertone of annoyance in his voice. He didn't like to ask twice. "Let me help you out." With this, he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you down on him. He buried his nose in your cunt, taking a long inhale of your scent. A groan left his lips and vibrated against your core.

You moaned at this sudden contact and lost complete control of yourself. Your full weight was sat on him as he began working at your clit. The lap of his tongue against your clit at this angle felt different and heavenly. You pressed your hands against the wall in front of you above the bed frame for stability.

"I wanna be fucking buried in this pussy," Logan growled between swipes of your pussy.

His tongue found your entrance and forced itself in, lapping at your walls. He ate you like he was starved and you were his last meal. As his tongue slid out, he flattened it and licked a slow stripe back up to your throbbing clit. You felt him start flicking it back and forth against it horizontally and you cried out his name. "Fuck Logan, I'm gonna cum."

Still buried in your pussy, he encouraged you towards your release. "Do it baby, cum on my fucking face."

You let yourself unravel on top of him, screaming his name. He continued with his tongue against your clit until you started to fall from your climax, in which he responded by nuzzling his face back and forth against your pussy, covering himself in your cum. You shook as you finally slid down, laying on top of him.

"Holy shit," you sighed with disbelief. "That was fucking amazing."

You glanced up at him to see his face and beard glistening with the remnants of you. "You look like a mess."

He ran his tongue over his lips, savoring every last bit of your taste. "Now don't you ever doubt me again, princess."

#logan howlett oneshot #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett imagine #wolverine x you #wolverine smut #one shot #smut imagine #deadpool and wolverine

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irrealisms · 8 months ago

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i've seen a lot of people talk about mcyt as a constantly burning library of alexandria recently, and to some extent that's true. people are constantly deleting their blogs, going scorched earth with animatics, fanfics, etc., that they made. but i've also seen people (three in the last few days!) make this claim about VODs, when talking about large fandoms like DSMP and QSMP, and.... guys. that was true in 2020. that's not true anymore. archivists have been working tirelessly for years now to make sure that isn't true.

the dsmp VOD masterlist is here. in november 2020, it's missing 16 VODs, if i am counting correctly--which is still a fairly small minority, but it's a lot, and it sucks!--but in november of 2021, it's missing one, and that's because the cc of that VOD does copyright takedowns, not because the archivists didn't save it. no one in the archivist project is deleting VODs off youtube with no backups the way people are deleting fanfics. three months ago, one of my dsmp archivist friends finished coding a tool that let them reconstruct VODs out of twitch clips, and reconstructed six tubbo dsmp VODs from 2020. not only are we basically not losing VODs anymore, we are actively gaining VODs that have been lost for years, that were thought to be lost forever. the library isn't burning anymore; it's being rebuilt.

the qsmp VOD masterlist is here. it is usually a month or two behind the present day, to give creators time to archive their own VODs, but... look at it. in january of 2024, every single qsmp vod was archived. the same is true of december of 2023, and november, and the vast majority of months for the past year.

i'm not going to say that there isn't a problem. just a few days ago, i realized that a lifesteal VOD from last year was missing--that its youtube upload was messed up somehow, and no one noticed and it wasn't mirrored on the internet archive and the person who uploaded it deleted the original file. and now it's gone forever. this made me super sad! like i said: i'm not going to say that there isn't a problem.

but... look at the lifesteal VOD masterlist here. lifesteal's a smaller fandom than qsmp or dsmp. open the 2022 tab and you'll see months and months of lost VODs, of no one's VODs being saved, because there weren't any archivists saving them. then open the 2023 tab and see: they lost four VODs, over the course of a year. even in smaller fandoms, archivists are working. they're making progress. they're saving VODs. in 2024, lifesteal archivists screenrecorded five streams on tumblr live to make sure they would not become lost media. mcyt may be a constantly burning library of alexandria, but the people with fire extinguishers are dedicated. they're making incredible progress. i know people with petabytes of VODs saved, who have spent money on extra storage for this. i know people who are constantly running up against their storage limits as they download/upload to the internet archive/delete for space/rinse and repeat. a decent fraction of the time, my internet at home is slow because it's downloading VODs.

and these aren't the only mcyt fandoms with archiving projects! the outsiders smp VOD masterlist is here. origins smp VOD masterlist is here. smp earth VOD masterlist is here. rats smp VOD masterlist is here. there are so many others that i just don't happen to know about. the older and smaller a fandom is, the more likely it is to not have an attached archiving project, or for the archive to be missing a lot of VODs. but... guys, we've saved a lot. there are people out there, working tirelessly to save even more. yes, mourn what we have lost--the archivists i know are also the ones mourning the most for the VODs that are, in fact, forever lost media. but don't dismiss how much people have saved. we are making progress. we are losing less and less every month. the vast majority of the dsmp and qsmp still exist, i am not going to say they're the same experience as watching live because they're really not, but.. they're out there. people have put in a lot of work to save them.

if you have publicly available VOD masterlists or other mcyt archiving projects that aren't on this post, please add them in a reblog. i want this post to serve as a reference for how much archivists have saved in this community; unfortunately, i'm not super connected to every community. but i know that--for every person deleting things, there are people working, tirelessly & with little external reward, in so many different mcyt fandoms, to save things. and we should appreciate that more often.

#therapists dni #any british ants in the chat?#AND EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO FAIRY RAVE!!!!!!!!

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celestie0 · 8 months ago

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)

a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33

The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.

It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach.

It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.

Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”

Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.

Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.

“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”

You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.

“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”

Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her.

Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”

You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.

Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”

You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?”

Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”

You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.

“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.

Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”

You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.

“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”

You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.”

Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”

Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.

The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.

“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”

You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”

He smiles at you.

“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”

You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.

“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long.

“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.

It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.

“Oh. Bummer,” Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”

You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”

He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”

You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore.

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.

“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.

He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”

“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”

He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.

A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.

He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”

He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.

“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.

He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”

You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”

“LCD.”

“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”

“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”

He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.

He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you.

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”

“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”

He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.

“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights.

Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”

“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.

You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.

“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.

He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”

Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.”

“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you.

You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.

But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give.

“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.

He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What’s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”

He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”

You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”

“Feelings about what?”

You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.

He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”

“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.

“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”

You sigh.

“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.

You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.

“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”

The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”

Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.

“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.

You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.

“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”

You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”

Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”

It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes.

“No.”

He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.

“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong.

He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”

You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.

You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”

He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.”

“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.

Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”

“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth.

“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.

“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”

Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.

“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.

“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.

“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”

“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.

You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.

“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.

You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.

“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.

“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”

You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.

—

“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck.

“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”

You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field.

“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”

Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”

Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.

It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.

“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.

“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.

“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”

You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”

He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”

“D-Distraction?”

“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”

Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.

“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”

You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.

Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”

You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed.

“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead.

“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”

There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.

You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.

“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.

“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.

You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.

“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too.

“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!”

“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.

You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.

“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.

There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.

Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.

“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”

Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.

“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”

You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.

The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before.

“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.

“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.

You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”

“You could have a concussion.”

“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”

He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”

“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”

He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.

He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air

“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”

He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. “Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.

“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.

“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.

You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck.

You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”

“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”

You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.

“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.

“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.

“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.

“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.

“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.

“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.”

He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”

“So glad to be in such good hands right now.”

He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.

“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”

He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.

“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”

You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?”

You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”

“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”

“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”

His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. “A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.

Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.

You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.

Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.

“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”

His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.

“What the fuck was that—”

“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”

“I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”

He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.

His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”

He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.

You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess.

He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”

Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera

2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up

2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?

2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that.

2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one

2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry

2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one

2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that

2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really

2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement

2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field

2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?

You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”

You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”

“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”

You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”

“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”

“We?” you ask.

“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”

Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”

Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”

Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”

“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”

You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair.

“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.

“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.

You purse your lips together.

“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”

You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.

“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”

“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.

“Alright cool, will do.”

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.

Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.

“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.

“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”

He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”

You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”

“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.”

“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”

Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.”

You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.

“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.

“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”

“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”

He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”

Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand. “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry.

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—”

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does.

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.”

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done.

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you.

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look.

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you came here. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing.

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness.

Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing.

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused.

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging.

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist.

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are scrutinizing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along.

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ take me to chapter ten!

➸ wrote some kickoff headcanons here

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

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urlonelystarrr · 1 year ago

Text

𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒓𝒚

ghostface x reader

GENRE → horror, smut.

SYNOPSIS → you're his killing partner. after nearly messing up while out on a nightly kill, ghostface decides that you're in need of a punishment.

TAGS/WARNINGS → dom! ghostface, creampie, rough sex, slapping, choking, degrading, manhandling, overstimulation, angry sex, no particular ghostface implied, spitting, oral!giving, fingering, knife play, mouth fucking, belt whipping, edging, kinda cnc

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you were on all fours, silently cleaning up the mess you had made. ghostface leaned against a wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you clean. your head hung low in shame, as you wiped up the blood on the ground. he hadn't said a word, and you were fucking terrified.

you grabbed a mop, mopping up the floor in a quick hurry - eager to leave the victims house. the body was all taken care of for now, wrapped up like a present in garbage bags and duct tape. the sudden sound of wood creaking drew your attention over to him, as he took slow steps towards you. "why'd you hesitate?" his voice was deep, in control. he wasn't asking to know, he was demanding. "i don't- i don't know." why'd you say that? why couldn't you just tell him that you felt nervous that you had someone watching you? it seemed your mind had gone blank, the response you'd been thinking of suddenly vanishing into the tension filled room.

"you don't know?" he took a step closer, scoffing. you stopped mopping for a second, your hands holding onto the handle for dear life. "i just got...nervous while you were watching me." you looked at the floor, not being able to look at him. "aw, you got nervous?" he mocked you, before shoving you up against a wall. he held you by your throat, the mop dropping out of your hands and smacking against the floor. "if you can't handle me watching you kill someone, how the fuck am i supposed to trust you to do this on your own? am i your babysitter?" he sneered, his grip tightening momentarily. you shook your head, your hands coming up to hold his wrist. he slapped them away, pushing you into the wall harder. "you can't even handle me, how are you gonna face someone else who's bigger than you?" he looked you up and down, his tone dripping in disdain. "you can barely tell the difference between left and right." your brows furrowed, your frustration only growing at his words. "i killed him, didn't i?" you could sense it, the disapproval of your back talk. you didn't need to see his face to tell he was frowning. "you know damn well that's not what i'm talking about. i'm talking about how you couldn't handle your victim. if i wasn't there, he'd overpower you, and you'd be the one bleeding out. if i'm gonna have to save your ass everytime we go out and do this, im gonna take you out to the middle of nowhere and slit your throat open." he let go of your neck, leaving you gasping quietly for air. you held your own neck, the skin burning from his touch.

he walked away, moving to pick up the body on the floor. you watched as he effortlessly picked up the body, tossing it over his shoulder as if 195 weighed nothing. you swallowed, watching as he walked out the door. he paused in the doorway, turning around to look at you. "get a shovel and help me out. don't make me wait."

you were quick to move, following him outside and grabbing a shovel. he loaded the car, shoving the body inside the trunk while you placed the shovel in as well. the two of you drove in silence, and you sat in the passenger seat, anxiously waiting.

the moment you two were done, you could tell you were in a lot of trouble. judging by the way he slammed the trunk and doors - you knew you couldn't get out of this. he made you stay with him, as he couldn't risk having you out of his sight. you took off your mask, glancing over at him as he kept his on. he turned to you suddenly, titling his head. "the fuck are you looking at?" he took a few steps towards you, his presence looming and authoritative. he held your face hard, his fingers digging into your skin. your brows furrowed, and you winced from how hard he was being. "stop acting all innocent...like you almost didn't fuck up tonight. i could kill you, right fucking now, and nobody would know." he looked into your eyes, smirking under the mask as he saw them tear up. "aw, don't tell me you're gonna cry now because i yelled at you. you're so fuckin' sensitive," he rolled his eyes, letting go of your face.

"you wanna cry? fine, i'll give you a reason to." without warning, he grabbed you by your hair, dragging you to his room. you yelped as he threw you onto his bed, forcing you into laying flat on your stomach. before you could even get up, he was on top of you, his hand on your back, holding you down. "wha- what are you doing?!" your face was pressed into the mattress, your eyes squeezing shut as he held your head down. you couldn't see much, but you could hear the sound of him taking his belt off. you started squirming, but he placed his knee on the back of your legs, immediately stopping you. "don't you move." he warned, taking his belt and whipping your ass with it. the leather came down hard, making you grip the sheets, your knuckles turning white. you yelled, trying to move, but he only made it harder for you, using his body weight and strength to pin you down.

he leaned down, the belt still in hand. "i could do a lot worse to you, you know that right? the things i'd do to you, you might not even recover from." he chuckled darkly, slapping the back of your thighs with the belt. you still had your robe on, you didn't even have time to change. your body trembled from the pain, your skin stinging as you cried into the mattress silently, your fingers clutching the sheets. he noticed your whimpering, and slapped your ass with his hand. raising a brow in slight amusement, and something more when he felt your ass jiggle under his palm.

somehow, it hurt more than the belt. your body jolted, your cries becoming more apparent. he pulled your head back by your hair, leaning next to your ear. his body was on top of yours, and you could feel his crotch right against your ass as he straddled you from behind. "you're crying already?" he mocked sympathy, "you think i'll be less mean if you cry? what a baby. your tears mean nothing to me. cry all you want, it won't make me any less harder." you sniffled, wanting to wipe the tears from your eyes so badly. you didn't know what to say, but you figured it would be best if you stayed quiet.

the weight was lifted off of you, and you slowly rolled back over to sit up, thinking your punishment was over. oh, how wrong you were. you saw his belt laid next to you, and his robe was opened enough to reveal his black jeans unbuttoned and unzipped. you swallowed nervously as you looked at him stand there, his heavy footsteps making the wood on the floor creak under his weight. he stood in front of you, looking down at you, before slapping you across the face - hard. you held your cheek, your eyes watering from the impact. he spoke with disdain, crossing his arms as he looked down at you. he appeared bigger, taller, and stronger than you could ever be. "you look like a fuckin mess," he paused, looking at your face. "i didn't know you wore makeup - it's all runny," he spoke like he was disgusted. "though, i knew you always liked attention." his words made you angry, they made you want to bite back. but you knew where that'd get you. his thumb pressed against your bottom lip, and he forced his gloved finger inside your mouth, the pad of his finger pressing down on your tongue. he seemed pleased by how wet your mouth was, and he started to reach down to his pants. you swallowed, pleading for him. "oh my god, please don't," you whimpered. "why? you gonna cry again?" he taunted, pulling his pants down enough for you to see his black boxers. "i've heard people plead for me to not take their life, and somehow you sound more pathetic than they do," he said with amusement. he pulled out his hardened cock, just seeing you in pain and crying made him hard. this fucker- he was big. he didn't need for you to say it, he knew already. his pink tip tapped at your lips, and he forced you to open your mouth by stepping on your foot, making you gasp in pain.

he shoved his cock inside, letting out a hiss of pleasure as he felt his cock be engulfed by your mouth. he rocked gently, letting your tongue coat his cock in your saliva before commanding you to suck. "suck it. no wonder guys don't fuck you, you're terrible at this," he replied as you didn't move an inch, and you fought off the urge to bite. you decided to give in, as pleasing him would only make things better for you. slowly, you started to suck. he watched as you took your time, displeased with how slow you were, he rolled his eyes, growing bored. he pulled his cock out, grabbing your hair and forcing you to look up at him. "you gonna stop fucking around or do i need to smack the shit out of you again?"

his tone was threatening, making you swallow and take his cock back in your mouth. without using your hands, you slowly took it inch by inch, your tongue wrapping around the tip. you sucked on it generously, tracing his veins with your tongue. he tilted his head back, quietly panting. he groaned, looking down at you again, before taking your hair in a fist, and thrusting into your mouth. your eyes teared up from the pressure, looking up at him as he fucked your mouth relentlessly. his breathing was heavy, gasps shuddering as his cock grazed your tongue, the way your lips sucked on his tip made him crazy. it didn't take long for him to finish, for him to fill up your mouth with cum. "swallow it." he held you by your cheeks, fingertips burning into your skin. you obeyed, swallowing it.

he seemed impressed by how you didn't gag, but he wasn't gonna tell you that. you were slightly relieved when he pulled his pants back up, and when he left the room. you wiped your mouth, hating yourself for enjoying it.

you were confused, he hadn't said anything at all in the past hour. you got up from your room, leaving to take a shower. you stood underneath the water, deciding to pamper yourself after what happened. you shaved, used a body scrub, and your favorite body wash. you swore that you heard the door open, but you felt that it was just your paranoia of being in punishment that made you believe that.

you ended up finishing quickly, but you were quick to notice the missing thong from your pile of clothes. you exited the bathroom, going into your room to change. you felt that pampering yourself might make you feel less worse about this whole 'punishment.' you felt slightly disgusted, how many people did he do this do? you rubbed lotion on your arms and legs, jumping when the door handle started to move.

you were barely clothed, just a pair of grey shorts and a little black tank top. he entered your room, looking pissed off again. "you're a bitch, you know that?" he came closer. "making me feel like a fuckin' teenager in heat. you know how many bitches i fucked trying to get you off my mind?" you paused, completely taken aback.

"you're just some dumb bitch i've gotta babysit while we kill people together." his hand runs up your neck, the leather from his gloves caressing your soft skin. your brows furrowed, and you could tell he was smirking under the mask. "dumb girls like you don't even cross my mind a second time after i've came." you looked away, shame and embarrassment burning your cheeks after what had happened. you felt used - like some toy for him to get off on. "if you're feeling used, it's because you are. you fuckin' suck at killing," he paused, his hand sliding up the back of your neck - taking your hair and wrapping it around his hand, "maybe these hands are better for this." his unoccupied hand took your wrist, and he placed it on his crotch. you could feel him hardening under your palm, and you swallowed nervously.

he looked down at you, fighting the urge to smile at how pretty you were. "you're pretty when you cry," he chuckled darkly. "maybe I should make you cry more often, you look so good." you didn't know how to feel, he was being so cruel but so nice at the same time. you couldn't lie, you were eating up whatever compliments he gave - since they didn't come often.

but, his good mood disappeared as quick as it came, and before you know it you were shoved down onto your bed. his hands pinned your wrists down, and he was quick to straddle you. you fought against him, but it only ended up with you getting slapped. he didn't say a word, his hands already abandoning your wrists to travel up your top. you gasped softly as he gently pushed your top up, a finger tracing your abdomen. "look at you, barely fuckin' clothed. it's like you want my attention," he laughed cruelly. he reached behind him, pulling out his hunting knife. he dragged the tip up your stomach, the faintest mark appearing on the soft skin. he watched how your skin dented under the knife's weight, his lips pulling up into a twisted grin that nobody could see.

he ran it up your body, cutting your top open. the knife laid against your neck, and you swallowed thickly. you laid still, as if breathing would get you killed. his hand came down and squeezed your boob, and he leaned down next to your ear. "i usually don't give girls attention like this, but you're different." he sighed in frustration, "you gotta boyfriend?"

"no," you cleared your throat. "it wouldn't matter anyway, id kill him just to have you for myself." he chuckled, his hand running down your stomach to press against your clothed pussy. you jolted underneath his body, squirming slightly. "don't move, girl." you could tell he was looking you up and down, "i'm gonna make this pussy mine." you tried to move again, but he held you by your throat, his thumb digging into your neck. you gasped, and his hand went down your shorts. you shuddered when you felt his finger run down your pussy, his gloved fingertip sliding in between your lips. he watched your brows furrow, and your lips part slightly to let out soft gasps.

you didn't know how to feel. were you angry that he was treating you like this? speaking to you like you were below him? all of that faded as you felt his finger circle your clit. a sharp gasp exiting your mouth, your back slightly arching on its own. you felt him press you into the mattress, his strong arm holding you in place. "that's it, good girl." he murmured, watching as you moved your hips like some bitch in heat. he removed his finger, his hand disappearing under his mask as he tasted you on his fingers. you opened your eyes and looked at him as he tasted you. you couldn't tell what he was thinking.

his legs were spread as he straddled you, but he got off of you, and stood by the edge of your bed. he yanked you to the edge by your ankles, until your lower half slightly tipped over the edge. he pushed your legs up to your chest, a hand under your knees as he traced your clothed pussy with his finger. his breathing had become heavier, and he practically tore your shorts off you. he moved his mask slightly, just to spit in your mouth. he forced it open, dragging his ring and middle finger along your tongue. when he pulled your thong to the side, his eyes glimmered in amusement at how wet you were already. "didn't even need to use spit," he chuckled. "suck it off." his fingers returned to your mouth, and you sucked his spit off of them.

he couldn't wait, he was hard the moment he stepped into your room, and saw how your shorts hugged the fat of your ass. he pressed himself against your wet pussy. the front of his jeans were dampened, and he groaned feeling you pressed against him. in a quick motion, he unbuttoned his jeans. "spread that pussy for me," he ordered. your hands came around your thighs, spreading open your pussy for him. he ran a finger in between your folds, your mouth parting to let out soft pants. he circled your clit slowly, before teasing your hole with the tip of his finger. he leaned down, his ring finger poking at your hole while his thumb caressed your clit. "you're dripping," he sneered. he felt pride knowing you were so wet because of him, and something darker gleamed in his eyes as he heard your soft whines and the sounds of you sucking in a breath. he slowly sunk his ring and middle finger in your hole, watching as you tipped your head back. a soft whine left your mouth, and he picked up his pace seeing your reaction. "come on," he encouraged, "show me how good this pussy is." upon hearing that, your pussy clamped around his fingers, and he looked at you with amusement.

he curled his fingers, making you arch your back. his pace quickened on your clit, and you swore you were going to cum, when he suddenly pulled out. you opened your eyes, shocked to see him laughing. "oh baby, you're not gonna get to cum so quickly." he stood up to his full height, taking his pants off and pulling them down. he pulled out his cock, rubbing the tip in between your folds. you looked at him, brows furrowed as he teased you. "you're still being punished, remember?" he taunted, leaning down to choke you again. you held onto his wrist, and this time he let you. "please," you whined. "please what?" he tilted his head, looking down at you.

"please, put it in. i-i can't.." you squirmed, trying to gain some friction. but instead, he pushed your hips down into the mattress, his voice quickly turning menacing. "stop moving, girl." he warned, his cock resting heavy on your pussy. he tapped his tip against your clit, rubbing it up and down before teasing the tip in. your painted toes curled with anticipation, as you let out a soft gasp as he stuck it in. but he quickly pulled out, leaving you with an empty feeling. just as you were about to protest, he stuck it in quickly, instantly filling you up. you let out a groan, your back arching again as he stood still. "relax, i haven't even done anything yet." he said with contempt, but it was amusing how turned on you were by this. "do you not get dick often? that would explain it," he smirked, loving the look of frustration on your face.

he started to rock his hips, fucking you at a painfully slow pace. but you knew not to disobey, even though you just wanted to move against him. he held open your legs, watching as his cock disappeared inside your pussy, how you sucked him in so fucking good that his eyes rolled back. your breathing was shaky as you tried to handle his slow pace, and to make it worse he added a finger to your clit, rubbing it in all the right places. he loved how your mouth hung slightly open, your brows furrowing as you looked as his cock inside you. your eyes trailed over his body, the distinct v line fading into the carved muscles of his upper half. he noticed you looking, and lifted his robe up to expose more of his stomach, while rolling his hips into yours.

a sharp gasp left your throat, as he started to pick up his pace. he pounded into you harder, yet his pace was still slow. he enjoyed watching you nearly cum all over his cock, and pulled out just before as you were about to. "do you wanna cum?" he taunted, leaning next to your ear while he pounded into you. you couldn't help the gasps and moans that left your mouth, "yes, please let me cum, please.." you begged, your legs sore from holding them up for so long. he suddenly pulled out again, forcing you onto your hands and knees. "I'll make you scream, baby. " he pulled your hips towards him, slapping your ass until it left a mark. he stuck his cock back in, pulling it back out and watching as your hole stayed in the same shape he stretched it. "I'm gonna make this pussy cum," he groaned, fucking into you sloppily. his abdomen was pressed into the fat of your ass, and you could hear the heavy breaths that left his mouth as he pounded into your pussy. his fingers returned to your clit, sloppily rubbing it until your pussy was clenching around his cock.

"be a good girl n' cum for me, show me how much you like this dick bitch." your knuckles were gripping the sheets, your toes curling and your eyes rolling back as he fucked you into oblivion, the side of your face pressed into the mattress as he buried his cock deep inside you, his fingers rubbing at your clit until you were a moaning mess. you swore you've never came so fucking hard - after nearly three times of him almost coaxing it out of you. "oh my god," you tried to move away, a scream leaving your throat as you felt him fuck you past your orgasm. you could feel him filling up your pussy with his cum, and he let out a deep groan, leaning against your body for support. your body collapsed, as you let out heavy pants. your eyes opened in shock when you felt yourself being lifted up, and he slammed you into the nearest wall, pounding into your pussy as if the two of your bodies weren't aching.

you couldn't remember how many times you came. he ran a finger up your pussy, practically fucking his own cum out of you. he pulled out his cum coated cock, and stuck it in your mouth. you licked him up, savoring the taste of him. "you freak bitch," he chuckled darkly, holding the side of your face. you sat on the edge of your bed, putting your clothes on while he pulled his pants up and left. you figured that he'd be the type to do that, and you decided it was time for another shower. but you could only imagine the surprise when you came back to your room, and saw him laying in the bed. he pat the space next to him, and as soon as you laid down he pulled you close to him.

"sleep with me," he moved up his mask slightly to kiss your neck (which you couldn't see since you were the little spoon.) you hummed in acknowledgement, laying comfortably in his strong arms. his fingers caressed the soft curve on your side, prompting you to fall asleep.

after that encounter, things had gotten strange. the girls that he'd fucked before you went missing. that or they were brutally murdered. when he heard shuffling around in the kitchen, he rose from his bed with a hunting knife tucked into his pants. "what the fuck?" he muttered, seeing you bloodied. "killing spree?" he let go of his knife, leaning against the wall. you came up to him, lifting up the bottom of his mask just enough where his neck was exposed. you started to kiss the skin, sucking on all the right spots. his hand rested on the small of your back, unsure of what caused the sudden affection - not that he was complaining. then you said something that made him shudder, "this dick belongs to me." oh fuck, he was losing his control. your hand ran down his stomach and groped his cock, eliciting a deep groan from him. "I don't belong to anyone," he panted, knowing you'd get angry. "tell that to them." you looked into his eyes, and his face fell as he connected the dots. but he wasn't afraid of what you were capable of - in fact, he found his perfect match.

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authors note: since halloween is coming, I decided I should throw in another ghostface fic cause he's so fucking hot likeee...

#reader insert #fanfic #scream smut #scream #ghostface x y/n #ghostface smut #ghostface x reader #ghostface #ghostface x you #scream series #horror #horror smut #slasher smut #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slasher x slasher

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nostalgia-tblr · 2 years ago

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What's the definition of "oneshot" here? I've always that to mean any single-chaptered work? Which is what I voted for, it'd be that or "short."

I'll read things that are longer but usually only if it's a situation like I like the author and I've read all their shorter stuff so it's longfic or nothing. While they're being posted it can be hard to follow a multi-chapter because I might forget what's happening in it between updates (which may also never arrive anyway) and once they're finished I can see the 250k wordcount and that's a lot of words. In some cases it's gonna be too many words. (We may all have a novel inside us, but do we all have a novel in us that's the length of several novels, needs no outside editor, and also we can write this novel on our first attempt at writing anything ever?)

I probably write shorter fics because I read shorter fics. More plots and scenarios in the same amount of time, give me all the content NOWWWWW.

(OBVIOUSLY a drabble is exactly 100 words long and many of those are great but I don't generally seek them out cos... well, too short.)

#one of the AO3 tags i follow is currently dominated by multi-chapter Mundane AUs which is not ideal for me tbh #do Mundane AUs seem to lead to longer fic generally? 300k words about the ds9 crew as baristas and that sort of thing?#i must admit as a oneshot writer sometimes i feel like everyone would rather i posted longer works with 25 chapters each #but i just don't have that many words in me at least not all for the same story #and i think i'd rather leave the reader wanting more than have them get partway through an epic and get sick of me #(my current multichapter is... well writing it's a slog at times tbh. what do i have left to say about medieval queens?)#(don't worry i am under no illusions that i'm saying much of anything about the canon characters via this particular AU)#but i have left more than one online fic community because i felt so intimdated by the assumption of multichapter works as default #which is odd because surely wordcount of all things is irrelevant in terms of writing quality?#but for YEARS now i've struggled with feeling like i'm not doing the “acceptable” kind of fic that people spend days reading #when/if i finish The AU there is no way it'll be more than 40k words and that'll still be BY FAR my longest every fic in over 20 years #so like... i am not what you'd call a marathon runner #noobs asking how to pace their 450k debut work. well first of all are you SURE it needs to be 450k words? that's... that's a lot of words.#that's SEVERAL novels. you're committing to A LOT there.#relatedly i almost never read anything tagged “slow burn”#i don't have the patience. this is longer than LotR already and they still haven't even kissed? get tae fuck! i want my fiilth! give me it!#fanfiction #fandom #polls

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spencerreidenjoyer · 5 months ago

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love bites | spencer reid x reader

word count: 2k, rating: 18+/explicit

tags: established relationship, hickeys, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, overstimulation

a/n: hello again... i'm back with another pwp fic... idk where this came from ngl, but i sort of ran away with this idea of spencer leaving hickeys and this happened lol. also i've been having chip taylor (mgg's character in 68 kill, a guy who has the biggest, wettest eyes and fucks like a madman) on the brain lately so this is definitely inspired by him too ❤️

(p.s: you can also find this fic on ao3!)

Spencer always wants to give you everything you want. He’s eager to please, with those wide puppy-dog eyes that stare up at you, that gaze that makes your insides warm, the tension between you two that makes you want to spread your legs. Not like you would put up a fight anyway.

He was already such a sweetheart on the date you just came home from, a nice dinner at a nice restaurant. Spencer was a proper gentleman, who was playing footsie with you under the table. You’d wanted to jump his bones the moment you’d left the restaurant. You hoped Spencer would get the hint, from the way you were tracing circles with your fingers onto his thighs on the drive back to his place.

“Baby,” you hum, while Spencer kisses down your neck. He always treats you like a princess, makes you feel so revered.

Sometimes, he loses himself in making you feel good. You have to call his name again – “Spencer–!” you say, in a whimper, before he responds.

“Hmm?”

“Are you leaving marks?” You ask. You feel a little conscious about it, because having to wear a turtleneck to work in the summer heat is definitely funny, but kind of embarrassing.

Spencer’s lips pause against your neck. He murmurs, “Do you want me to?” and you feel his warm breath on your skin as he says it. Your hair stands on end, your body reacting to how close Spencer is to you.

Spencer pulls away, and you mourn the loss of his warmth for a moment. He looks at you, the hazel of his eyes so deep and sweet that you feel like you could lose yourself in them. “Then I can leave them in places that you don’t have to worry about.”

“What? Where?” You ask, but your mind starts running already. His lips on your body. His gaze, scorching as he stares up at you.

He doesn’t give a verbal response, rather lets his hands fall to your waist and slips his thumbs under the waist-cutouts of your dress. Where the tips of his fingers touch your skin, you feel like you’re burning with desire already. Spencer asks, “Can I?”

“Please.” Your voice comes out breathier than you’d like.

Spencer pushes your dress up, revealing your thighs, your stomach. His fingers skirt over your skin softly, the touch almost ticklish. The dress goes up, up, up, until Spencer helps you tug it over your head. Even with the sweet gesture, him getting you undressed is making you flush, the attention he gives you and the lust in his gaze making your stomach flip.

Spencer’s lips find their way back to your neck. You hold your breath as he kisses his way down the column of your neck, taking his time. He kisses your collarbone, then the top of your breast. He nips the skin between his teeth.

“Someone’s bitey,” you gasp, trying to joke.

“Did you know that while the Brits call hickeys ‘love bites’ , you don’t actually need to bite to break the superficial blood vessels under the skin’s surface? Suction is often sufficient to cause bruising.” Spencer murmurs, as if the fun fact is absolutely necessary to him giving you a hickey on your breast. It’s cute to you, though. It kind of turns you on.

“‘Love bites’ are a cute name for hickeys, though.” You laugh. “And sucking… Isn’t that kind of gross?”

Spencer’s eyes flit up to meet yours. “I think it’s hot… I mean, being so desperate to mark you up, that I can’t control myself. Being willing to do anything to make it known that you’re mine.”

Arousal washes over you. “Jesus Christ, Spencer.”

He surges forward to kiss you, slow and languid and kind of sloppy. Still, you can feel the desperation behind his movements, his eagerness as he basically eats your face off. Spencer pulls back panting, eyes studying your face, your shirtless figure, your breasts in your bra. He stares greedily. You’re wet between your legs already.

Spencer dips his head down to press his lips to where your breast spills out of the cup of your bra, flicking his tongue over a spot he’s chosen. His front teeth graze over your skin gently. Spencer nips the skin between his teeth, sucking softly. It makes your hair stand on end – the wet sounds coming from his mouth, the heat of his breath on your skin, the slow but pleasurable twinge of pain that sinks in when he sucks a mark into your breast.

It’s erotic, the way your hand is tangled in Spencer’s hair, holding him close to you as he continues to mark up your chest with his mouth. Spencer’s hair is so soft between your fingers, slightly messy and curling at the ends. He’d moved on to mark up your other breast, his large hand cupping you perfectly, like you were made for him.

Spencer litters hickeys all over you, on your tits, your stomach, and he kisses along the waistband of your panties when he gets to them. You only have to whimper to get him to slide them off as well. He kisses your hip bone, while his hand on your other side feels you up. You feel Spencer slide his hand from the swell of your ass, to feeling the meat of your thigh, before his hand comes around and pushes your leg out to spread your legs.

“Babe,” you moan, as Spencer bites down gently on your plushy inner thigh. His tongue laps over where he had bitten, acting to soothe you from any pain, and he sucks a mark into your thigh. You see the marks of his teeth and the redness of the spot, the beginnings of a bruise. He moves over to your other thigh to give you another mark, then his lips trace their way closer to the heat between your legs, giving you more marks on the way up.

You gasp when he presses a kiss to your clit, your wetness extremely obvious to you now as he blows cool air to tease you. You shiver. Spencer laughs, “Needy. You’re so wet.”

“Because of you, baby,” you sigh, running your hand through his hair to push it back, letting you admire his gorgeous bone structure and those wide eyes of his. “Need you.”

Spencer hums, smiling to himself, as he settles himself between your spread legs. His hand comes up to your heat, two fingers spreading your lips before he leans in, licking a fat stripe up across your hole, to your clit. You moan shakily as he flicks at your clit, playing with you, the tip of his sharp tongue making pleasure jolt through your body.

You let out a sigh when he presses his face deeper because you didn’t think he could get any closer, and you feel his mouth on your cunt– slurping, licking, breathing heavily as he eats you out fervently. He gives you head like he was born to do it. The way he pleasures you makes your head spin, amidst all the slick, wet noises, and Spencer’s own eagerness to make you feel good.

You lock eyes with Spencer, his piercing gaze meeting yours from between your tits. It’s almost funny, but you’re too turned on to even joke about it. You tighten your grasp in his hair. He whimpers, a sound you never get tired of hearing, and the vibrations to your cunt make you shiver.

You want him in you, now. You tell him that. Spencer pulls away, his wide eyes seeming dark and serious.

He wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, shiny with your slick and fluids. You watch the pink of his tongue dart out as he licks his lips. You whimper a little as he gets onto his knees between your spread legs, his nice button-up, slacks and boxers off and on the floor. You admire the smooth lines of his body, the softness of his stomach, his happy trail leading down to where he’s hard and leaking into his hand.

There are no words exchanged, just a knowing glance that tells Spencer to hurry and do it. Spencer’s always been good at following instructions, and he knows you and your likes like the back of his hand. You know he always wants to please.

One hand on your hip, Spencer’s other hand guides his cock to your hole. He teases the head of his cock over your clit, circling over your entrance. You can only imagine how wet and sticky you are down there, with Spencer’s cock making you even more of a mess.

He puts the head in, watches intently as he slides in, and you look up at Spencer, breathing hard. He stops for a moment and begins to pull out, only the tip inside of you. He’s such an ass. You glare at him. Spencer grins cheekily.

“Spencer–” His name leaves your lips brokenly as he suddenly presses himself deeper, in, in, in, until his cock is bottoming out and you feel so incredibly full. “Fuck me.”

Spencer grunts, eyebrows furrowed as he starts fucking into you. He goes hard and fast, knowing that’s how you like it: his skin slapping against yours, the slick sounds of his cock pounding into your hole downright obscene. Even while you shake from the force he’s putting into fucking you, Spencer’s face reads like he’s trying hard to keep it together, trying to concentrate on making you feel as good as he feels.

His mouth falls open as he grips the headboard, fucking you relentlessly. You hold onto his biceps for dear life, close to screaming as he rails you. Spencer moans, as your fingernails dig into his arms in your desperate need, “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight, angel. All wet for me.”

“Spencer, fuck, oh my God–!” You cry out, helpless, horny, feeling like you’re in heaven as Spencer fucks you just how you want, just how you need. His cock hits all the right places, deep inside of you, fucking you open like you’re made for him.

And then, your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your body jolting with the pleasure that overtakes you. It’s so good, Spencer ramming into you till the overstimulation starts to sting, pleasure tinged with pain around the edges, and your clenching and writhing has Spencer pushed over the edge as well, his head dropping between his shoulders as he comes with a groan, loud and whiny, his load spilling inside of you.

You’re both breathing hard, but your eyes meet his, and you share a small smile. Spencer has paused, cock softening inside of you, and he kisses you softly. You taste yourself on his lips. You don’t care, and kiss him back. Both of you giggle when you pull away.

One of Spencer’s hands falls from the headboard to your body, his fingers gentle as they skirt over your curves, a sharp contrast to the way he was fucking you just moments ago. His hand slides over your breast, your stomach, your thighs – thumbing over the marks he’d left behind. Spencer presses down on one on your inner thigh. You moan as he grabs the meat of your thigh eagerly. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knee.

“I love you,” you giggle softly, feeling like you got your brains fucked out. “You’re too sweet to me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be sweet to you, darling?” Spencer answers softly as he leans in, kissing your jaw gently. Your cheeks feel warm. “I love you too. Let me clean you up.”

You hum softly, laying back while Spencer gets up. You watch as Spencer, even more gorgeous in his post-orgasmic glow, grabs a small towel and slips onto the bathroom. He emerges quickly enough, the towel now damp, and slides back into bed next to you.

Spencer glances down at where you’re wet and messy. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, mind clearly busy, and asks, “Wanna let me finger you before we really go and get clean?”

You let out a laugh, and after a moment’s pause: “Yeah, okay."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencerreidenjoyer writes #criminal minds fanfiction

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rottiens · 2 months ago

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contents. satoru gojō x fem reader, alcohol consumption, all the characters are adults, secret relationship au.

"How many shots would you have to take to kiss Gojo?" Nanami asks the group as his eyes are on you, you laugh against the bottle stumbling against your lips.

The question isn't out of place since you just answered that you would kiss Principal Yaga after taking at least about five shots out of respect and how nervous he makes you feel. However everyone knows what your relationship with Satoru is like, so the question catches you off guard.

"Zero." Shoko answers for you and Satoru looks at her over the sunglasses, clearly displeased. "There's not enough alcohol in the world to make her kiss him."

"Oh, no, no, wait... she's really thinking about it!" Haibara points an accusing finger at you and you can't help but laugh again, you feel the skin on your cheeks stretch and burn from the silly grin you can't wipe off. Satoru's stalking gaze feels like a torch on the back of your neck.

You pretend to think it humming out loud, though the answer is clear to you. "At least about ten," you say, tilting the bottle up to your mouth, getting the group around the campfire to laugh filling the beach with echoes.

"Heeey." Satoru pinches your forearm which makes you look at him, a tiny pout is later replaced by a couple of wrinkles on his forehead.

"What?" you ask softly and have to force your hands to stay still and not reach out to touch him.

"Ten shots? That's almost an alcoholic coma."

"There are actually many things that could influence an ethyl coma," Kento clarifies.

"You can't explain much about alcohol to a person who doesn't drink." Your numb brain is sure that was Hibara, too lazy to check since your eyes were still on Satoru who was still indignantly staring at you.

"What?" you repeat almost in a whisper.

"Nothing." His attention returns to the campfire, the heat from the fire burns his pink cheeks and the bright flame dances on his face making his eyes look much lighter mimicking the shade of the sea at midday.

Satoru pushes his glasses up on top of the bridge of his nose, hiding his eyes completely.

"I'm going to get more beer," you say looking at the group, then tug on Satoru's arm to help him up, who does so reluctantly. "Can you help me with the box?"

He walks beside you without adding anything else, shaking the sand out of his red shorts and pushing his hair out of his face.

"Are you really upset?" The answer was obvious but you had to make sure, Satoru walks silently, sinking his feet aggressively into the sand until you reach the parking lot where your toes have never felt more grateful to touch solid ground. "Hey?" you tug on his hand and stop your steps, standing still in front of him.

"Hhm?"

"Are you really upset?"

"No," Satoru assures, avoiding your eyes.

"Satoru, did you really want me to tell them that I would kiss you sober? Without a drop of alcohol?"

You see him licking his lips battling with himself on whether to stay annoyed with you or understand your point.

"I know."

"I thought we were going to go slow..."

"I know!" His hands cradle your cheeks tenderly, bringing his face up to meet yours to leave a kiss on your lips. "I was dying to touch you."

"You know we didn't go public for you." You remind him, letting him rest his forehead on top of yours. The artificial taste of the strawberry beer he drank earlier sneaks into your mouth in little gasps.

"Let's do it when we get back to the city," Satoru murmurs, brushing his lips over yours. "I think they know anyway." Oh, you're sure they know. You're both too obvious but you didn't want to push your boyfriend when he told you he wasn't ready to admit in front of everyone to officially having a partner. "But I don't like having to hold your hand on the sly or sneak out of meetings so I can kiss you and God, I'm just addicted to that watermelon gloss you use."

You laugh giving him fleeting little kisses, taking advantage of the position to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you.

"Just admit you're addicted to me, Satoru."

"Maybe I am..." He says in that tone that indicates danger. That voice that tells you you're not going back to the group you had run away from.

Satoru squeezes your waist possessively, his fingers trace on your sun-toasted skin and you moan between his half-opened lips the moment he asks for your tongue silently, his nose stumbling against yours.

"We should get back..." you say in a whisper, remembering this fact more to yourself than to him.

"We can disappear for ten minutes..." Pause. His lips move to your collarbone and his warm breath tickles you. "Fifteen minutes..." Pause. Small bites along your jaw take him to your neck. "Twenty..." His tongue dances over your salty skin, gently licking what he can reach and has to physically force himself not to suck.

"It's never ten minutes..." you say between a choked moan, tugging at his strands sweetly until he's looking at you again. Dark sunglasses hide his eyes from you but his mouth is at your disposal, half open, red and appetizing and the tiny freckles that bathe his nose make your stomach knot.

He grunts, as if battling with himself to understand that you are right. Satoru brings his face to the line of your neck and sighs heavily, leaving one last kiss to pull away from you against his will.

"Let's go back then," he says resignedly. And he had never wanted the weekend to pass as quickly as he wanted it to now, being the impatient person he is, he didn't want to wait to have your hand entwined with his and fill his chest with raw pride where he could finally admit in front of everyone that you were his.

#wr #wr.gojo #scr.gojo #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #cw alcohol #divider by adornedwithlight!

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rosyblooom · 6 months ago

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the set up | op81 smau

PAIRING: oscar piastri x fem hamilton!reader SUMMARY: oscar and y/n practically act like a couple, but they swear they're just a couple of besties. so some of the grid devise a plan to force them to call it what it is once and for all A/N: i love sad endings, i can't help it🫣 but here u go <3 (pls don't cry lol)

Instagram

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri, nellarosee, and 164,885 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername happy birthday bestie!!! 🩷🤍🩵

view all 1,309 comments

username I'm crying what's with that random kangaroo pic at the end💀

yourusername huh?? that's just oscar and his big arms, silly! username i- you did not LMAO

danielricciardo Bestie, husband, boyfriend all have the same meaning, I see

yourusername WRONG ! bestie is what i'm gonna make heidi demote u to if u don't zip it! then u can kiss those husband dreams of urs goodbye 😘 danielriciardo If it's anything like what you and Oscar have got going I have no complaints 😁 username oop y/n were you silent or silenced?🎤

oscarpiastri Was that kangaroo really necessary?😐

yourusername it's not a crime to be aussie AND show off ur gains at the same time babes x

username "bestie" smh... imagine how tired we are 🫤 imagine how tired we are of it

(liked by lewishamilton, landonorris and charles_leclerc + more)

username why did nearly the entire grid like this?? they're so messy🤣

username HAPPY BDAY OSCARRR🎉🧡

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, alex_albon, and 478,002 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri Couldn't ask for a better date to keep me company at all these events 👍

view all 3,041 comments

username since you brought up date could i propose the actual act of dating?😏

landonorris Me too!! logansargeant Me 3 🙋‍♂️ danielricciardo **4

alex_albon The way I thought those were wedding pics and it didn't even surprise me

yourusername and if I say, when I saw the news that u crashed ur car and stole logan's, it didn't surprise me, then what?😇 logansargeant Now why am I in this... alex_albon WOW username that was sooo nasty omfg😭

username the first pic is literally giving wedding ahhh I wish

yourusername anything for my best friend <33

oscarpiastri :) username ohh y'all are pissing me off

lewishamilton Just best friends??

yourusername not u too 🙄 lewishamilton Some older brother wisdom: don't fight the inevitable. When you know, you know, and I firmly believe deep inside you know what I mean. yourusername not reading allat x

Instagram

oscarpiastri posted to his story!

[ caption: ☀️☀️😴 ]

[ tagged: yourusername ]

Instagram

eveythingf1wags

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eveythingf1wags Y/N Hamilton was spotted in Monaco with Oscar and the Piastri fam, enjoying lunch together! Later on, they both posted pictures to their stories, soaking up the Mediterranean sun on a boat.

view all 152 comments

username 'everythingf1wags' but y'all are posting this man's bestie i-💀💀

username have you seen the way they act tho? could've fucking fooled me like??? username no bc you're so right😭

username if they marry do u think it'll be y/n piastri or oscar hamilton tho??🧐

username **WHEN GIRL❗️

username "just friends" my ass smh

username manifesting they finally fall in love soon🕯️

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 6 months ago

Text

Faking It | Jeon Jungkook | Chapter One

Summary: Being divorced by the time you're thirty isn't the best feeling in the world but what happens when your parents find someone from your past that's in a similar boat? Pairing: f!reader (30) x Single Dad Jungkook (33) (Arranged Marriage Slow Burn?) Word Count: 11.3k (oh man holy shit) Warnings: Troubles with conceiving/seeing pregnancies to full term, Jungkook's first wife passed away in childbirth. (These themes will be spoken about throughout the fic and I will add extra warnings when need be in future chapters) a/n: Okay this one is gonna be a long one (in terms of chapter length, idk how many parts there will be) I'm really really in love with this story line so I hope you'll come along this cute, silly, awkward, heartwarming and heartbreaking journey with me 🥰 p.s. I've been brainstorming with @kkusadmirer (ofc 🤭) about this fic for a while now and I've just fallen in love with these characters too much that I had to get at least one part out. Okay okay enough from me. I hope you enjoy! (barely edited per usual I'm sry 😅)

"You should start dating again" my mom says to me, a dinner with a table for two this time since she said she wanted to talk to me about something important. If I would've known it was to nag me about something like this again I would've declined the invitation.

"Mom I already told you, I just got divo-" "You got divorced last year" she cuts me off and I sigh, knowing I'll probably get no where with this argument but continue on nevertheless.

"Point being, it hasn't been that long since Robert and I got divorced. I need time and space to figure out what I want out of life. I'm not interested in rushing into another marriage just for it to fail again" I explain and she simply downs the rest of her champagne in response, polishing it off in record time.

"You don't want to end up an old maid who didn't give me any grandchildren do you?" she says, repeating the same old argument again. "Mom I'm thirty, not forty five. I still have plenty of time to worry about babies and getting married again" I argue and she rolls her eyes before asking for another glass when the waiter passes by.

"You should at least try. Don't you like going out on dates?" she asks and I sigh, hating having this conversation over and over again.

"Dating was fun in my twenties but now that I'm more interested in finding someone to settle down with, it seems like all the guys that are remotely my age and happen to be decent human beings are already married" I explain and watch how she immediately takes her glass of champagne off the table once it's placed in front of her.

I'm glad she's drinking because having this conversation with her when she's sober is even more painful.

"You're exaggerating honey. I'm sure there is a fine young man just waiting for you around the corner" but before I'm able to respond to her, her eyes suddenly light up and she quickly gets out of her seat.

"Is it really you?" she says and another woman around her age that I've never seen before comes up to greet her. "How are you? It's been so long!" the mystery woman says and they quickly share an embrace before she turns to face me.

"And who is this beautiful young woman here with you?" she asks, making me shy away from them. "Oh this is my daughter y/n. Y/n this is Mrs. Jeon" she introduces us and tells me all about how they used to go to college together.

"Oh wow I think I remember my mom mentioning you before. You used to come over when I was little right?" I question, now remembering seeing her face in some of the pictures in my baby album.

"That's right! Little Jungkook and I used to come visit you all the time when you were just a teeny tiny little thing. You were the easiest baby I've ever come across, always sleeping and when you woke up you were as happy as can be" she rambles and I get a warm feeling in my chest, loving to have met someone who clearly cared so deeply for my mother and I.

"Who's Jungkook" I ask, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Jungkook is my son, he's just a few years older than you. I remember he was so fascinated by you, always wanting to come over and would watch over you as you slept, never causing a fuss as long as you were around" she says and I blush at the fact that her son would care about me just as much if not more than she does.

"How is he? Is he doing alright?" my mother asks and Mrs. Jeon gets a somber look on her face eyes fluttering to the floor before responding.

"Actually, he lost his wife a few years ago. She passed away after she gave birth to their daughter" she mumbles and I feel my chest tighten up at the thought of someone so young losing their life to something that is supposed to be so beautiful.

"My condolences to you all" I say, my eyes going glossy and she smiles in return, the memory bringing a tear to her eye as well. "Thank you love, that's very kind of you" she says, placing a hand on my shoulder before she clears her throat and blinks back her tears, wanting to put on a brave face in public.

"Why don't you come visit us at our home tomorrow evening? I would love to catch up and it would be good if the kids got reacquainted again" my mother suggests and I glare at her, knowing exactly what she's doing but also knowing there's no way I could stop her.

"I would love that! Our husbands might enjoy catching up too since they used to get along so well" Mrs. Jeon points out. "Then it's settled! How would you feel about making it a dinner instead?" my mother questions, digging us deeper into this evening we'll all be spending together. "I think that sounds perfect!" she agrees and I tune out the rest of the conversation, already trying to mentally prepare myself for the scheming I know my mother has planned.

~~~~

Kicking off my shoes and walking into my apartment I'm greeted by the serene sound of silence.

My black tuxedo cat meows as he jumps down from his cat tower and stretches for a second before coming over to greet me. "Hi Salem" I say, scooping him up and carrying him with me into my bedroom where I plop him down in the middle of my bed. "Mom only invited me to dinner because she wanted to tell me to start dating again" I relay to him, while I walk around my room, grabbing all the things I'll need to get ready for bed.

"I should've known she was up to something when she decided to invite me out on a random Wednesday night to go to my favorite restaurant. If the previous glances I had of the totals on those receipts didn't clue me in enough I don't know what would" I say in disbelief, having convinced myself hours earlier that it might've been about something good instead of another chance to nag me about something.

"I don't know why I even bother sometimes. She just has this worst case scenario mindset that I'm going to die alone and not leave a legacy. I understand that I'm their only child but with the way she talks, you would think I was well into my forties already" I say, verbally processing to him while he curls up into a ball, his eyes watch me walk back and forth until I walk into the en-suite bathroom to turn on the shower.

"Thanks for always listening to me Salem" I say, walking back over to him and scratching his head, "Don't know what I would do without you" I mumble before walking back over to the bathroom and closing the door.

Looking in the mirror I study my features, my hair styled just how I like it, my brows perfectly shaped but when I get to my eyes I notice it. I notice why my mother has gotten so worried about me.

It's as if the light's gone out of them. It's more than just 'Hey it's been a long day and I'm tired' no it's 'I don't even know what I'm doing here anymore' and for the first time, I admit to myself that I truly feel that way.

I reach for my cleanser and quickly wash off the little makeup that I still have on, lips completely plain and gone back to their natural color and some how my cheeks don't seem to be as rosy anymore after I had made sure to put on some more blush today to bring some color back to my face. Maybe it's not the makeup that's been washing me out, but the way that I've been living.

I will admit my days consist of going to work and coming home and doing that same thing over and over again. I don't really go out much and I only have a few friends but ever since I got divorced I just end up politely declining any sort of invitation I get from them. Doesn't matter if it's dinner or drinks or clubbing or even just a shopping trip.

I just can't get myself wanting to do anything anymore.

I step into the shower and I flinch slightly at the burning sensation the hot water brings to me but adjust it and step further under the stream once it's just to my liking. While going though my shower routine mindlessly I start trying to get to the bottom of what has got me living like this.

Robert wasn't the best husband in the world, mainly because he cheated on me but before that things were good between us. He made me laugh and was a perfect gentleman that always made me feel special and when we got married I swear I thought I couldn't be happier.

It felt like my life was falling into place, our life.

Until it wasn't.

I'm knocked out of my train of thought when I hear Salem pawing at the door and remember now that in my whirl winded state of mind I forgot to feed him. "Sorry Salem I'll be right out!" I call out for him and he meows in response. I swear that cat is more intelligent than I am most days.

I finish up my uninteresting night as I always do, turning out the lights and cuddling up with Salem until I eventually fall asleep but it took a little longer tonight. Thoughts full of what my future might look like if I don't start living instead of just existing.

As the 'what ifs' plague my mind they eventually drown themselves out as that same welcoming feeling of calm finally lulls me to sleep.

~~~~~~

"Hurry up they're almost here" my mother says, yanking me inside the house before I even have a chance to knock on the front door. "Nice to see you too mom" I say under my breath and she's wound up so tight it doesn't even phase her. I can tell she's been working hard to make sure everything is perfect once the Jeons arrive.

"Did you get that wine I told you to get?" she questions, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the wine bottle carrier in my hand, quickly taking it and rushing into the kitchen. "Yeah no problem mom you're welcome" I say, talking to the air in front of me still waiting for her to show any sign of gratitude.

"Go place your things in your old room so they're out of the way" she call out, leaving me sighing and trudging off to do as she says.

Once I retrace my steps and walk past the door to go to join her in the kitchen I'm stopped in my tracks when the doorbell rings.

"Oh honey can you get that? My hands are tied here" my mom yells and I take a deep breath in and out before doing just that.

"Hello y/n! It's so nice to see you again" Mrs. Jeon greets me as I step aside and let them in, soon after her is her husband who holds out his hand in greeting. "It's been quiet a long time hasn't it? I remember when you use to be-" "Grandpa! Grandpa! I wanna meet the pretty lady too!" a little girl no older than five years old says, walking around her grandfather's legs to get to me, greeting me with the most adorable bunny smile.

"And now who might this be?" I ask, already melting into a puddle from seeing how absolutely adorable she is. "I'm Juni" she laughs when I go down to her level. "Well it's very nice to meet you Juni and how old are you?" I ask and she lights up when I continue taking an interest in her. "I'm four! Well Daddy says I'm turning five soon but it feels like it's taking forever. Right Daddy?" she says and looks back towards the man now left standing in the doorway.

"That's right Juni" he responds and the deep tenor of his voice sends a slight shiver down my spine, so full of love and admiration that is obvious to anyone who might come across the pair. "Oh!" I say, quickly straightening back up to meet this mysterious Jungkook and my throat goes dry once I've laid eyes on him.

Tall, strong build, dark brown hair that's well taken care of and styled perfectly, strong jawline accompanied by the contrast of the softest look in his brown almost black galaxy eyes that are still focused on his beautiful daughter.

"I'm sorry" I say but he shakes his head before he turns his head in my direction, taking in the sight of me as well before speaking. "That's alright, Juni kind of grabs everyone's attention right away" he says giving me a soft smile. "I'm Jungkook" he says, holding his hand out to me. "Y/n" I say shyly and shake it, his hands being much larger than mine is comforting in a way.

"My mom told me we used to come see you when we still lived here" he says once we let go, Juni now quietly watching our exchange. "Used to?" I question, curious to know more about why our mothers had lost touch. "We went back to our hometown for a while and then moved back to the city soon after Juni was born" he says and I nod my head, accepting that as an answer for now but wanting to know more.

"Sounds like I was just an infant though so I don't really have any memory of it" I admit while rocking back and forth on my heels, a nervous habit I've picked up over the years. "It's alright, I didn't expect you to remember" he chuckles, "I was only three so I don't remember much of it either" we laugh at his returned confession and a more comfortable air settles between us.

"Well it's nice to finally meet you" I say and he nods his head. "Likewise" he replies and we stand there for a moment, not really knowing where to go from here then, thankfully Juni breaks the silence.

"Daddy I wanna talk to the pretty lady" she says and grabs my hand and pulls me away from him. "Be nice Juni" he warns and she pouts, leaving me crouching down to her level and tilting my head to meet her gaze. "There's enough of me to go around little one. Don't worry" I say, booping her on the nose and making her giggle again.

Jungkook walks in a bit more and closes the door behind him, watching our little exchange before my mother comes out to check on us.

"Y/n why don't you take Jungkook and..." she says trailing off, not having learned his daughter's name yet. "Juni" Jungkook says and my mother smiles at the sound of the adorable name. "Jungkook and Juni outside. I'm sure she'd love to run around a little bit before dinner is ready" she suggests and I agree while Juni starts jumping up and down, excited to explore an unfamiliar place.

Jungkook follows closely behind as I lead the way but I ultimately end up getting dragged along by Juni who is surprisingly perceptive and has already mapped out the door that we'll be going through. "Come on Daddy keep up!" she calls after him once we've reached the door, looking back and seeing that he's fallen behind.

"I'm right behind you Juni" Jungkook chuckles and once we step outside Juni lets go and runs back and forth all around the yard, looking at anything and everything she can find.

"Be careful!" I say, worried that she could hurt herself but Jungkook comes over and stands next to me and reassures me she'll be fine.

"It's alright, if she gets hurt it'll be a little reminder to pay attention to what she's doing next time. That's the only way kids really learn right?" he says turning towards me, granting me with a soft smile, almost as if he's looking for validation on his parenting choice.

"Of course," I respond, returning the smile, "even some adults need to crash and burn before they learn their lesson sometimes" I point out and it makes him relax a bit more, thankful to see that he's right in his dealings with situations like this.

"She's a good kid" I say after leading him over to the patio set we have out here so we can sit down and watch her. "Thanks, it's been difficult raising her on my own so I'm never really sure if I'm doing a good job or not" he admits and I nod my head, taking a second to think about my response since it's a sensitive subject.

"I can tell that you love her very much so I have no doubt in my mind that you'll always do right by her" and I can tell that my words bring him a sense of comfort. Being a single parent can be extremely difficult especially when you lose the love of your life as soon as you become a father.

I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone.

"Y/n?" I hear him call out and realize that my mind had drifted off for a second. "I'm sorry what did you say?" I say, my cheeks heating up from having been caught daydreaming. "I asked if you had any children of your own" he chuckles and I again try to figure out the best way to word this but figure the best way to go about it is to be honest.

I've got no reason to hide from him.

"No, I got divorced last year and my ex husband and I were never able to have children" I say, looking down at my lap, embarrassed to have admitted it but also feeling a certain weight lifted off my shoulders.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know" he trails off and I panic, realizing I might've made him feel uncomfortable, telling him something so personal so soon. "No don't be, I honestly dodged a bullet with that one" I chuckle, hoping to lighten the situation a bit which thankfully it does as I see his body relax a bit.

"Our relationship had been on the rocks soon after we got married and I don't think we were a good match for each other so I think it was the universe's way of doing me a favor in making us somewhat biologically incompatible" I chuckle and he softly does the same.

"Biologically incompatible" he questions, a deeper meaning obviously hidden behind those words. "We both got checked out and everything looked completely fine but I guess it wasn't meant to be, thank God" I sigh, sincerely thanking whoever might've been in charge of making that executive decision for us.

"I'm not exactly sure what to say to that but I'm glad it worked out?" he states almost as if it was a question and I laugh, in response hoping I can recover this incredibly awkward conversation. "I'm sorry, that was a huge overshare that I probably should've kept to myself" I say, clearing my throat in hopes it would aid in clearing the peculiar air that had settled between us.

"You have nothing to apologize for, I asked and I feel honored that you felt comfortable enough to be so transparent with your answer" he says, the warmth in his tone giving me an ache in my chest. How could someone be so kind to someone they've just met? It's as if I could tell him anything and he would listen to me as if I was the only person in the world.

"Daddy!" 'Well me and Juni', I say to myself and watch as his attention now shifts to his daughter who is running up behind me. "Daddy look!" Juni says, holding out her hands that are now thoroughly caked in mud but hold a rock that is almost a perfectly shaped heart in the center of her palm. "Oh Juni" Jungkook chuckles, the ends of her dress now matching the state of her hands and neither Jungkook nor I can hold in our laughter.

"That's a very beautiful rock Juni! You're so clever" I say and I can see a sense of pride straighten her posture a little bit. "Juni your beautiful dress" Jungkook chuckles, clearly not minding but also trying to figure out what to do. "I'm sorry Daddy" she say, that pride slowly dwindling after seeing the mess she's made of herself.

"Hey Juni" I say, turning her attention back to me and I can see her spirits lift a little. "Would you like to see some of the clothes that I used to wear when I was your age?" I ask and her eyes light up at the thought. "Did you wear pretty dresses too?" she asks, clearly excited about seeing more new things. Her childlike wonderment makes my heart ache. Must run in the family.

"I did, but none of them were as pretty as yours. If you like, you can borrow one of mine while we wash this one" I suggest and the way her head nods up and down so fast makes me chuckle.

"Let's go to my room then! Hopefully we can find something you'll like" I say, standing up and straightening my dress while Jungkook reaches out for Juni's foot.

"Let's take your shoes off before we go back inside baby. We wouldn't want to track any mud into the pretty lady's house right?" Jungkook says, flashing a soft smile at me before looking back down to complete his intended task and Juni complies right away.

My breath hitches as he purposefully uses the nickname Juni had given me and I quickly walk past them and open the door to go inside, trying to clear my head for a second, willing myself to keep it together.

"Are you coming with us?" Juni asks and he nods his head, "I gotta go clean your shoes off first though" he says and I walk all three of us over to the bathroom so Jungkook can do just that as well as wash Juni's hands off.

"Wow!" is the first word that comes out of her mouth when we walk into the butterfly themed bedroom, mesmerizing her from the first glance. "Your room is so pretty!" she says, quickly running around here and there, being careful not to get too close since we haven't gotten a chance to change her dress yet.

"You like it?" I question and she's quick to nod her head again. "I wish my room looked like this" she says, spying all of the little butterfly details from the dainty embroidering on the bedspread to the knobs on the dresser, all of them working in harmony.

"We can go look for some butterfly stuff next time we go to the store if you'd like" Jungkook says while he walks into the room and right up to her while she stares up at the ceiling where there are a couple scattered across it. Nothing is too over the top but there is clearly a theme going on that she is captivated by.

"Really?" she asks, confirmation of what he's said being important to make sure she's hear him right. "Promise" he says holding out his pinky that she quickly wraps her's around as best as she can with her little ones being so tiny in comparison to his. She looks at the two of us before beckoning Jungkook to come closer so she can whisper something in his ear.

"Can the pretty lady come with us too?" she 'whispers' in his ear almost as loud as her speaking voice and I try to hold back my laughter, pretending like I didn't hear a thing. "Why don't you ask her?" he whispers and when he leans back she looks him in the eyes and he nods to further encourage her.

"Um, would you like to go shopping with us to get butterflies for my room too?" she asks, walking up to me shyly. Jungkook looks at me with a soft smile and I notice how the tips of his ears have almost gotten a little pink, his expression soft and charming but his body still showing tell tale signs of nervousness.

"Sure Juni, I'd love to go shopping with you" I say and she giggles in response while running back to her Daddy. "Can we go right now?" she asks jumping up and down. "We'll go another time don't worry baby, we've gotta set up a time so the pretty lady can go with us too right?" he reminds her and although she's sad she has to wait she nods in agreement. "Good, now let's get you out of this so we can make you all nice and clean again" he says, unzipping the back of her dress and revealing the cute little white tank top and tights that she wore under it.

I focus my attention on opening up the closet and grabbing a couple of dresses out for her to choose from. "These ones should fit. Which one would you like to wear Juni?" I say and her eyes flitter back and forth between all of them before giving her a Daddy a devious smile and hugging them to her chest. "I want all of them" she giggles and my heart melts, thinking about how fun it would be if I had a daughter just like her.

"Pick one Juni" Jungkook chuckles and she pulls back flipping through the selection I've made before her eyes light up and find the one she's dying to wear. "This one, this one!" she says, lightly holding onto the skirt and jumping up and down. I shift my grasp on them and hold out the one she chose for Jungkook to take and once he does there a static jolt of electricity that shocks us leaving the both of us pulling away slightly.

"Sorry it's probably from all the fabric of the dresses" I explain and he smiles in response. "Don't worry about it. A little spark never hurt anyone" he says and it's almost as if his voice had dropped a bit with that remark, leaving me widening my eyes a bit before turning back around and placing the dresses back in the closet.

Why does he make me so nervous?

"Lady, lady look!" I hear from behind, and watch as Juni turns this way and that once Jungkook has finished putting the dress on her. "My goodness Juni don't you look adorable!" I say and she runs up to the the mirror in the corner of the room, watching the skirt swish this way and that. "Say thank you Ms y/n" Jungkook says, correcting Juni and finally telling her my name. She sounded too cute calling me 'the pretty lady' I just didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise.

"Thank you Ms y/n!" she says, running up to me and wrapping her arms around my legs since she is still too small to reach anywhere else. "You're welcome Juni" I say, smiling down at her and smoothing her hair down. "Remember Juni, we're just borrowing it so we can wash your dress. We have to give it back to Ms. y/n before we leave" Jungkook says and I can see her excitement dwindle a bit but is no less thankful for being able to wear it tonight.

"Thank you for letting me borrow it Ms. y/n!" she says and I smile again, falling more and more in love with this adorable little girl with every smile she graces me with. "You're welcome" I say and she lets go of me and twirls around in it before stopping.

"Oh! I promise to be really careful and keep this one clean" she says holding out her pinky to do just as she had done with her father moments ago and I kneel down to her level and do just that before booping her on the nose causing another fit of giggles to spill out of her.

"Y/n, dinner is ready" my mother says while poking her head around the corner and I can tell she is completely satisfied by the scene that she's walked in on. "Oh Juni what a beautiful dress!" my mother says, noticing it right away, remembering it was one of my favorites. "Ms y/n gave it to me!" she says, swishing around in it again before doing a full twirl for us.

"Well aren't you the most darling little girl I've ever seen! Are you ready to eat? I heard that mashed potatoes are one of your favorite foods right?" my mom says, holding out her hand for Juni to take and she gladly does.

"Did my grandma tell you that?" she asks, clearly surprised that this complete stranger already knew something about her. "Yes she did. I hope you like them!" my mom says and Juni rushes down the hallway dragging my mom behind her. "Juni be careful!" Jungkook calls out to her but my mom just laughs it off.

"Why don't you show Jungkook where the laundry room is so you can put her dress in the washer" my mom offers up and I nod my head and look up at him. "That's okay I can just wash it when we get home" he says, politely declining the offer. "It's alright, it's best to wash it right away so it doesn't stain" I say, holding out my hand for the dress and he smiles before handing it to me and following my lead.

"You have a lovely home" he says shyly, looking this way and that taking notice of the small details just as Juni did. 'Like father like daughter' I think to myself. "It was my childhood home as you could probably tell from my old room" I say and he hums in response as I stop at the door to the laundry room.

"I know Juni is never going to stop talking about it" he chuckles and I smile at the loving tone that is always present in his voice whenever he speaks about her. We stand there in silence for a bit while I gather the various cleaning products I'll need.

"If you like, I can show you how to get stains like this out? If there was ever a day when I was her age that I didn't get some sort of dirt, mud or grass stains on my clothes my mother would write that down as a national holiday" I say and he laughs at that before accepting the offer.

"Sure, I'd like that" for some reason I can't seem to find the right words so I simply turn around and rinse off the mud in the little sink we have in here. "Do you think you could get that one for me?" I ask, nodding toward one of the stain removers. He wordlessly does as I ask and helps apply a drop or two of it to each of the areas I point out.

"I could've done that" he says now realizing how he's just standing there watching me clean his daughter's dress. "No, that's okay I offered!" I say, reassuring him that I don't mind. I wordlessly ask for the next stain remover before rubbing it in and ringing out the excess water. He opens up the washer lid for me and I toss it in and look this way and that for the laundry detergent.

"Looking for this?" he asks, pulling it off the shelf above the washer. "See, that's a perk of living on my own now. I don't have to worry about things being up too high for me anymore" I chuckle and quickly scoop in the appropriate amount and start the washer.

"Well let me know if you ever need anyone to get something that's out of your reach, it's one of the perks of being tall" he jokes and I laugh but almost shy away from the fact that he expects to see me again. "So I've heard" I say and try to put the detergent back on my own but it soon tips back over and is close to crashing down until he catches it, which in turn ends with him trapping me between him and the washer.

He slides the detergent back in it's spot and takes half a step back, giving me the smallest bit of space. "Why didn't you let me help you? I was standing right here?" he asks, tilting his head at me. "I don't know, I guess I'm just used to doing things on my own now" I chuckle awkwardly. "Well hopefully you'll get used to letting me help you soon" he says, finally taking another step back and giving me a bit more space to breathe.

"Sorry about that" I apologize awkwardly, leaning my back against the washer now with him leaning up against the wall directly in front of me and giving me a crooked smile. "Don't apologize, there's nothing wrong with being independent" he says and quickly scans my body but he does it so fast that if I would've blinked I would've missed it.

"Daddy it's time for dinner" Juni says, her soft steps not having been heard by either of us over the sound of the washer, breaking us out of the little moment that we had been having. "Okay Juni we're coming" he chuckles and holds out his hand for her to take but she giggles and dodges it, reaching for mine instead.

I squeeze past Jungkook as this little room is only wide enough for one person to walk through and the front of our bodies brush up against each other only for a moment until she's tugged me halfway out the door. "Let's be a train Daddy! Grab onto Ms. y/n's hand so you can be the caboose!" she says, turning this trip down the hallway into a game.

"Oh that's okay sweetie why don't you-" he starts but I hold out my hand for him to take, him only having refused for my sake, not wanting to make me uncomfortable with any unwanted skinship. "Grab on Daddy!" Juni giggles and I look up at him and see that he's looking down at me. He chuckles before grabbing onto my hand and the both of us are soon trailing behind Juni as she drags us to the dining room.

Once we get to the dinner table Juni lets go of my hand and runs back to where Jungkook's mom is so she can continue to help her eat her mashed potatoes.

When everyone notices that Jungkook and I have arrived, we're greeted with four sets of eyes, all of them extremely happy to see us. It's then when I realize that we were still holding hands so I gently slide mine out of his, almost wishing I didn't have to.

He looks down at where our hands had been connected when I do and I can almost see that he's also disappointed that I let go but his expression is quickly replaced by an awkward smile aimed at our parents.

When I look at the table I see that Jungkook and I are meant to sit directly across from each other. Which I'm sure is another one of my mother's ploys to get us to keep glancing up at each other, this time though I don't really mind.

When I go to walk to one side to sit down next to Mr. Jeon, Jungkook follows right behind me.

"Oh did you want to sit on this side?" I ask him and he shakes his head, "No, I just wanted to pull your chair out for you" he says and I feel butterflies in my stomach. "Oh, okay" I say quietly and watch as he does just that and slides the chair in behind me once I've sat down. "Thank you" I reply, smiling up at him and he does so in return before rounding the table to take a seat in his place.

"So y/n, your mother told us that you work in photography, is that right?" she asks and I take a drink of water before responding. "Well not really, I've done a few freelance jobs here and there. Enough to keep me afloat so to say but I hope to do it full time soon!" I say and I see Jungkook perk up at that.

"Jungkook has always loved photography as well! He's always been tinkering away with cameras since he was just a few years older than Juni" his mother says while Jungkook cleans off Juni's face as it seems like she's gotten more food on her face than in her mouth.

"What subject do you usually shoot?" I ask, curious to see where his interests lie. "Mostly editorial, but I tend to enjoy the shoots a lot more when they have to do with nature. I believe beauty can be found in almost anything so I tend to just capture whatever inspires me at the moment" he says, his answer being very similar to mine.

"I feel the same way" I respond simply before shying away from the topic as I feel our parents are studying our interaction.

Once they notice the silence they decide to pick up the conversation just throwing facts about Jungkook and I back and forth, pretty much doing the getting to know you game for us without giving us much room to get a word in edgewise. Which leaves the both of us to just follow the conversation and occasionally making eye contact when either side makes a slightly embarrassing comment.

"Hey Dad" Jungkook calls out to his father over the never ending conversation they're having about us. "How's that new project at work going?" he says and I can already tell that it's one of those kinds of topics that once you get him started on it he won't stop and that's just the case as we now watch the conversation take a turn that is thankfully so far off from the two of us.

As time ticks by and the subjects change a few more times I notice that Jungkook has started to get up and clear the table to which I jump up in response to help him.

"Oh Jungkook don't worry about that I can do it later" my mother says but he shakes his head. "It's the least I could do after you've provided this wonderful dinner for my family and I" he says and I can almost see my mother swooning from his response. "Well thank you very much, sweetie can you show him where to place them, just next to the sink is fine" she says to me and I nod, looking up at him and nodding my head towards the direction of the kitchen.

Once we've gone there and back from the table a few times I decide to just start loading up the dishwasher, trying to escape that mortifying conversation for as long as I can. "I brought your glass for you. Wasn't sure if you were planning to finish it or not" he says, walking over and placing my wine glass on the counter next to me. "Thanks" I say quietly, neither of us having said a word to each other since the very beginning of that dinner.

"Your parents are really sweet" he says, breaking the ice and clearly acknowledging how obvious they all were about their motives. "Yours too. I'm sorry about tonight" I say and his brows furrow, clearly not understanding why I would need to apologize. "I knew my mom would end up doing something like this but once her mind is made up there's no stopping her" I admit and he gives me a crooked smile in response.

"Don't worry, I knew what all of them were up to too. My mother was praising you so much and telling me how beautiful and smart and respectful you are so I had an inkling that this was their plan all along" he says and I turn away from him, trying to hide my flustered expression.

"She's right you know" he says, coming around to stand next to me, leaning against the counter while I face it, cleaning up the inside of the sink and grabbing the towel next to me to dry my hands.

"Right about what?" I question, now turning to face him and noticing just how close he's gotten. "About how beautiful you are" he says and I have to blink a few times, trying to figure out why this incredibly handsome man in my kitchen is flirting with me.

I just wanna thank past me because whatever I did in my last life must've been incredible if I'm being offered up a man as remarkable as he is.

"I-" I start but am soon interrupted by my mom walking in on us. "Y/n could you- oh! I'm sorry, as you were" she says, taking small backward steps out of the kitchen, keeping hers eyes on the two of us before turning around to walk back to the living room that they had moved to.

"I'm sorry about her" I say, taking a drink of my wine but he laughs it off. "It's alright, I don't mind" he says watching me with curious eyes as I polish off the rest of it. "Juni has taken a real liking to you" he says and my heart melts at the sound of her name.

"Really? She's probably the happiest child I've ever seen. I really like her too" I say and he smiles, no doubts memories over the years flashing through his head.

"You've done a really good job raising her Jungkook" I say, and his eyes flutter back to mine, this time being the first time I've spoken his name and it looks as if just that alone brought him so much satisfaction. "Thank you y/n" he says, and I feel my heart flutter, the deep baritone of his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

"Daddy can I have some cake?" we hear as Juni walks into the kitchen, "Can I have some cake..." Jungkook says, trailing off and waiting for those magic words. "Please?" she says, realizing what he had been getting at.

"Sure baby, Ms. y/n and I will bring it out in a second okay?" he says making her smile as she runs out of the kitchen "Thank you" she calls out over her shoulder leaving the two of us laughing at her enthusiasm.

"That's probably what my mom was coming in to ask us for" I say and he nods in agreement, helping me carry everything out so we can all have a slice of the small cake my mom had gotten for tonight. "How much you want to bet that they sent Juni looking for us earlier too?" he whispers to me as we make our way over to where everyone else has gathered. "You might be right about that one" I whisper back, quickly catching onto all of their little games.

After setting the cake and all of the plates and forks down on the coffee table my mom takes on the task of cutting it up and serving it, with the very first piece going to little Miss Juni. "Thank you!" she says, eyes wide as saucers leaving all of us cooing at her. "Eat slow Juni" Jungkook reminds her, no doubt having troubles with her eating her desserts too quickly.

I take on the task of helping my mother hand out the slices and once I give one to Jungkook I finally notice that the only empty seat is right next to him and he looks down at it before looking back up at me in a silent invitation to sit down and I take it cautiously.

The couch that we're sitting on is kind of a love seat ironically, seeing as the whole theme of tonight is trying to set us up with each other.

Once I've sat down I realize that I've sat right next to him to the point of where my shoulder ended up bumping into his. "Oh! I'm sorry" I say, scooting away from him but with the size of the couch I don't really end up moving all that much. "It's okay I don't mind" he says, before taking a bite of his cake and turning to face the rest of the group.

The seven of us continue talking and talking until we notice that Juni has fallen asleep in her grandma's lap. "Here mom let me take her" Jungkook says, standing up but both my mom and his stand up and wave him off. "That's okay, we're just gonna go put her down in y/n's room" my mom says and before he's able to say otherwise they've disappeared down the hallway.

"Does she have school tomorrow?" I ask once he's settled back down. "No, she's on spring break right now until next Monday" he relays and I nod my head. "And what about you? Do you work tomorrow?" I ask and he gives me a shy smile before responding. "I had a shoot scheduled in the morning but we went ahead and pushed it to the afternoon so I don't have to worry about going home anytime soon" he says and my heart skips a beat.

"No, I mean, well I don't want to keep you for too long. You probably have other things you'd like to get done tonight?" I ask and he shakes his head. "No, this is the only thing I have planned for the night so I guess you're stuck with me" he chuckles. "I didn't mean to make you feel like I wanted you to leave I just-"

"It's okay I know what you meant" he laughs and I now take notice that we're the only ones left in the room. "Oh! Where did my dad go?" I ask, my eyes darting this way and that, not even being able to hear his voice.

"I think I heard something about them setting up the fire pit? I'm not sure but he's outside with my dad right now" he says and I spy both of them looking through the glass door before quickly ducking out of view once they realize they've been spotted.

"Maybe we should head out there" I say but he cuts off that thought by asking me a question that keeps me frozen on the spot.

"Is there a reason why you don't want to be alone with me?" he asks, arm now having been draped around the back of the couch a while ago, completely unknown to me making this all seem a lot more intimate than before.

"Who said that?" I chuckle nervously, clearing my throat before sinking back into my seat. "You just did" he says, nodding towards me and I feel like I want to crawl in a hole and die. I thought I could escape this night without being awkward like this but I guess not.

"You trying to get rid of me?" he teases and I shake my head right away, "No I'm sorry I just-" "It's okay, I'm only joking" he says and I laugh nervously. "So why don't you tell me about yourself?" he says, giving me the most open ended question ever and I scramble to find something but I just can't seem to come up with anything interesting enough to mention.

"Well, my parents pretty much said everything there is to know about me over dinner earlier" I say and he shakes his head. "I want to hear something about you from you. Like what are some of your hope, your dreams, something you're passionate about" he says, being a little more specific this time.

"My dreams?" I trail off, thinking for a second and he watches me as I wrack my brain for something notable. "It's kind of silly" I admit once I've settled on something. "Good thing I've got a sense of humor" he replies, trying to encourage me to continue.

"Well, I've always wanted one of my photos to be on the cover of TIME magazine" I admit and see his eyes light up. "I have a similar dream" he says and my eyes widen in surprise turning my body to face him, wordlessly asking him to share his too.

"I'd like one of mine to end up on the cover of National Geographic" he relays and I smile in turn. "That would be perfect for you! Well, since the subject you love to capture the most is nature I could definitely see your work fitting right in!" I say, excited to see someone else who's trying to aim as high as I am.

"And I could see yours being a shoe in for TIME as well" he says, and I shy away from his praise. "Okay and what's something you're passionate about, and don't say photography" he says, interrupting me causing me to slump down, having to take another second to come up with an answer.

He chuckles a bit at my reaction and I glare at him causing him to smile at me even more so look up to the celling as if it had the answers to something interesting about me.

"Well, I really love reading. I know it might not seem like a passion but when I read a really good book and I find someone who has read it or will at least let me talk about it it's as if I gain a boost of energy and can't contain my excitement. That's definitely the nerdy side of me showing but that's all I can really think of at the moment" I say honestly and when I look back at him it's as if he thought I was the most fascinating thing he's ever seen.

"Sorry, I think I got a little carried away there" I say, getting shy from being looked at like that, his soft gaze an expression I'm not used to, especially from someone I just met. "Um, your turn" I say, hoping to get some of the spotlight off of me.

"I know this might be cheating but I do enjoy taking video and editing them. Even if it were as simple as filming Juni for an afternoon, it's something that if given the chance, would be something I could be extremely passionate about" he says and although it is cheating since it's somewhat similar to photography, I'll let it slide.

"Have you thought about switching up your profession to include video as well as pictures?" I ask and he nods before answering. "I have but I haven't taken enough time to seriously consider it. Juni is still young and I want to make sure I have a stable income in order to take care of her and if I'm being honest I feel almost as if a career change could jeopardize that" he says and I watch him with the same intent that he had given me and he too seems to shy away from it.

"It's silly since it would probably be a seamless transition but I can't help but feel reservations towards it" he says and I place my hand on top of his that's in his lap.

"It's normal for a parent to worry about providing for their child. I don't think it's silly at all and it shows how much you truly care about Juni and her well being. She's lucky to have you as her father" I say and he cringes only for a moment before his expression goes back to a softer one. I want to ask what would've warranted a reaction like that but I leave it alone.

"Okay your turn, what is something you hope for?" he asks and I already know the answer to it but I'm hesitant to say. I take a second to try and figure out how to formulate it properly but decide to just go for it.

"I hope to be a mother and have children of my own someday. Doesn't matter if it's naturally or through adoption, I just hope to have someone I can love and care for unconditionally and watch them as they grow and change and pray I'll receive that love and care back from them" I say and he gives me a wary expression and I quickly try to backtrack, not knowing if I've messed up or not.

"I'm sorry that was probably extremely insensitive of me" I say, pulling away my hand but he holds onto it and gives me a sad smile before responding. "I think you would be a wonderful mother. If you were to give your children even half the time and attention you've given to Juni today they would still be incredibly lucky to call you their mother" he says, reassuring me that it's okay to talk about these topics around him.

"Last one?" I question, seeing if he's up to telling me something he's hopeful for. "I just hope that no matter what my family and friends stay happy and healthy. It might be simple but I enjoy the simple things in life" he says and I smile, seeing how truly kind and compassionate he is just from his simple answer. "That's a good answer" I say and we both chuckle a bit before we're broken out of yet again another moment by the sound of our mothers stumbling into the room.

"Oh don't let us bother you we're just going to head outside with your father" Jungkook's mom says to him and I can see now from the warm glow shining through the glass door that they've finally started up the fire pit.

"Oh we'll come outside too!" I say and try to get up off the loveseat. I'm able to stand but immediately lose my balance and feel a strong set of hands on my hips and end up falling into Jungkook's lap. "I-" I start, turning towards him and trying to get out an apology but stop short when I see how close his face is to mine, our noses almost touching.

I hear our mothers head outside quickly and close the door but neither of us pay any mind, both focused on each other to the point where neither of us move for what feels like forever but was only a matter of seconds. When I do try to get up I feel his grip on me tighten.

"I'm s-sorry, this couch is always difficult to get off of" I explain and he smiles. "Like I said before, you have nothing to apologize for" he says, his voice a bit deeper than before and it takes every fiber of my being to stop myself from looking at his lips but when I see his flutter down to mine I can't help but do the same.

"Daddy, why is Ms. y/n sitting on your lap?" we hear Juni say and I immediately get off of him and throw my face in my hands, trying to hide the embarrassment written all over me but Jungkook handles it like a champ.

"Ms. y/n just fell down Juni and I caught her. You know how I catch you sometimes before you fall?" he offers and she walks over to us, rubbing her eyes and immediately climbing onto Jungkook's lap. "Oh okay" she says, yawning again after Jungkook places a kiss on the crown of her head.

"Do you wanna go see the fire that grandpa and Ms. y/n's dad made?" he asks and she hums in approval, still half asleep but wanting to go outside with everyone. "Okay let's go" he says, standing up with Juni in one arm and holding his hand out to help me up. I glare up at him and he smiles, knowing he's added to my embarrassment but I take his hand anyways and he makes no moves to let go once I'm up on my feet, walking us all towards the back door.

Once we're outside though that's when he lets go so he can hold Juni properly while he walks down the patio steps so we can get to the fire pit.

"Juni woke up?" his mother asks and Jungkook nods. "Yeah she wanted to come outside with everyone even though she is still very very sleepy" he says, talking in a silly sweet voice that makes Juni pout although her eyes are still closed. "I'm not sleepy" she says mid yawn causing me to coo at her and when she realizes I'm still close by she sits up off of Jungkook's chest and reaches towards me.

I look between her and Jungkook for a second and he nods his head in approval and hands her to me, grabbing a chair afterwards for me to sit on and pulling up another one next to mine and looks over at Juni to see she's practically sound asleep again. "Are you okay with her?" he asks and I hum in approval leaving him placing another kiss on Juni's head before leaning back in his chair.

"So Jungkook, what do you think of my daughter?" my mother asks and Jungkook chokes on air, not expecting the straightforward question. "Mom!" I scold and she chuckles, "What? It's a simple question. No need to give a complex answer, unless he wants to" she teases and I swear I can even hear Jungkook's dad chuckling at my mother's antics.

They couldn't make it more obvious that they're trying to set us up even if they tried.

My dad luckily somewhat comes to Jungkook's aide and hands him a bottle of water to hopefully help him stop coughing which it does thankfully.

He takes a second to clear his throat and I would be lying if I said I wasn't on edge, waiting to hear what his answer might be. "I think she is a very kind hearted and very intelligent young woman" he says simply and the echos of him calling me beautiful earlier on tonight attach to the end of that.

"And would you like to see her again?" she continues and he then looks over at me, giving me a soft smile and glancing down at Juni before looking me in the eyes again. "We've already planned to see each other again" he says, memories of Juni's invitation to the butterfly shopping trip fluttering through my mind again.

"Did you hear that? Jungkook has already asked to see her again" my mom says, calling over to Jungkook's mom as if she hadn't been listening the whole time. "Well technically Juni asked if I could go shopping with them" I explain and Jungkook chuckles. "Juni is a very smart girl" my mother compliments and Jungkook and I can't help but laugh.

The rest of the night flies by and before I know it we're already standing in the doorway saying goodbye. "It's was so nice seeing you again y/n! I hope to be seeing you again soon" Jungkook mom says, winking at me. "Oh come on honey leave the girl alone" Jungkook's dad says, coming to my aide and saying his goodbyes as well.

Jungkook's parents say a quick goodbye to Jungkook and Juni as well since they came in separate cars and I notice after that my dad pulls Jungkook aside and says something that I regretfully can't make out. Luckily he doesn't seem bothered by it as they smile and shake hands before my dad pats him on the back, sending him off with I can only assume is well wishes.

Jungkook says goodbye to my mother and I can tell how much she's praising him, he thanks her for everything and makes his way over to me a few moments later and it's almost as if it was a ghost town with only Jungkook and I in the entryway now, with him holding a still very sleepy Juni in his arms.

"Thank you for coming, I know this was probably a lot for you" I say, rocking back and forth on my heels and he smiles before answering. "I had fun, and I know Juni did too" he says and I can feel my heart skip a beat, "I did too" I reply shyly. He reaches into his pocket and unlocks his phone before handing it to me.

"Do you think I could have your number? You know, so we can set up that shopping day soon? I know Juni won't be able to stop talking about it until we go" he says, turning into what I could only describe as a shy teenage boy, asking his crush for her number. "Sure" I say, putting it in and calling my number so I have his too.

"Let me know when you get home safe" I say and place my hand on Juni's back and whisper a quick goodbye which regrettably stirs her awake and I mouth a quite sorry to Jungkook but he smiles in response.

"Wanna say goodbye to Ms. y/n?" Jungkook asks and she nods her head before opening her eyes and leaning towards me to give me a kiss on the cheek leaving me speechless. "Goodnight pretty lady" she mumbles before laying back down on Jungkook's chest. He chuckles after seeing my reaction and gives Juni a kiss on her head in response.

"Goodnight y/n" he whispers to me and I send him the same sentiment, walking him to the door and watching as he walks over to his car while he puts Juni in her carseat. He looks back to see if I'm still watching and smiles at me again before getting in his car and driving off.

"So should I schedule an appointment with the caterers tomorrow or...?" I hear my mother say behind me, making me jump before taking a few steps back into the house and closing the door. "Very funny mom" I say, walking over to the living room and plopping down on the couch Jungkook and I had been sharing a couple hours ago.

"What's wrong? He's a nice man isn't he? Plus his daughter seems like she loves you! Why don't you give it a shot?" she asks and I sigh, sinking further back into the couch. "I don't know, I just don't want to get my hopes up" I mumble and she sits next to me, placing a comforting hand on my thigh. "What makes you say that?" she asks curiously.

"It's almost as if he's too perfect. He's handsome, charming, charismatic, a great dad and I don't know, he just seems too good to be true" I admit and she nods her head, understanding my hesitation. "Everyone puts their best foot forward when they're meeting someone for the first time. Just go out with him and Juni in a few days and keep an open mind. It's not the fact that he has Juni that's holding you back right?" she questions, trying to figure out what exactly has got me doubting.

"No not at all! If anything Juni is an added bonus" I say truthfully and she smiles at me. "Good, because I think she's already become very attached to you" she says and I nod my head. "Yeah I think I have too" I mumble and she claps her hands, jolting me out of my train of thought.

"Now all we have to do is get a ring attached to that finger and the three of you can live happily ever after" she says, getting up to clean up the cake plates that sit on the coffee table in front of us.

"Mom" I groan and she laughs, "I want some beautiful grandchildren and if that handsome young man can't help you give them to me then I don't know who could" she continues leaving me sighing, not bothering to argue back since she is definitely right about that one.

I hear my phone chime in my purse moments later after I walk into my bedroom to gather up my things to go back home and see a message from an unknown number but check my call log and see that the numbers match up from when I called myself off Jungkook's phone.

I quickly add him to my contacts before opening up our chat and see a short but sweet message from him.

'Home safe and sound. Thanks for having us tonight. Hope to see you soon?' he sends with a question mark at the end, clearly still wanting to double check on if I'll actually want to see them again. I wait a few seconds, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard before finally composing a message and hitting send before I chicken out.

'See you soon Jungkook. I really enjoyed getting to know you and Juni. Looking forward to shopping for butterflies together!' I say and cringe once I reread it. 'Ugh could I possibly sound more desperate?' I say to myself and toss my phone on the bed, sitting down at the computer chair across from it.

A minute later I hear another message come in and I practically lunge for the phone, praying I didn't weird him out but moments later I feel heat rushing to my cheeks and have to will myself into not squealing.

'We're counting down the minutes until we can see you again. Let's talk tomorrow and set up a date and time' he says and I rush to respond.

'Sounds great! Goodnight Jungkook' I say, ending the conversation before I end up embarrassing myself even more but before I can even lock my phone his message pops up.

'Goodnight y/n, sweet dreams' the message is so simple but it still makes me smile.

"Is that Jungkook texting you?" my mom asks, poking her head into the room and I quickly lock my phone and grab my purse. "Yes it is, goodnight mom" I say, walking past her and straight to the front door with her trailing after me. "Oh come on sweetie you know I'm just teasing you. I really think he's going to be a good match for you" she says and I turn to face her before I leave.

"I really hope so. Say goodnight to dad for me" I say giving her a kiss on the cheek and getting in my car to drive home.

~~~~

Once I walk in I'm greeted again by Salem and he walks up, waiting for me to pick him up. "You're such a little baby you know that?" I chuckle and he meows in response.

I follow the same routine as I always do, carrying him with me into my room and rambling off to him about my day before hopping in the shower but this time I have a lot more to say, leaving me wasting half the hot water and causing me to have to finish up the last bit of my shower in a freezing cold stream.

After finishing up and finally settling into bed I lay down and Salem curls up next to me. "Things might be changing around here boy. I only hope they're for the better, what do you think?" I ask after having told him everything and I'm met with the feeling of him purring and if that isn't a good sign then I don't know what is.

"I hope he likes cats" I say, giving him one last pet before turning off the light and for the first time in a very long time I can finally say I've gone to sleep feeling content. The last thought that runs through my head is one that helps me fall asleep with a soft smile on my face.

I can't wait to see him again...

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cherryheairt · 9 days ago

Text

Hidden Truths pt.2

Cregan x wife!reader

named reader no description, from house Glover

masterlist

part 1

thank y'all so much for the kind words and eagerness to see this part. Please forgive me for not replying to all asks being sent to inbox, you'll understand with the chap lol. The pressure was so real I had planned to write other things between pt 1 and 2 but I dropped everything to do this between work and sleep lol

changed the og ending because so many people thought it would be more fitting and I agreed lol

anon pointed out my mistake on glover and bolton im so sorry for that confusion yall it is meant to be glover originally. i made too many mistakes im a mess rn

Ernest makes it to Cregan's solar first, Ron not far on his heels. Panting, the younger speaks up first when Cregan Stark shoots them a bewildered look whilst hunched over his oak desk.

"Was Lady Stark due for some business today, My Lord?" He asked, catching his breath as Cregan sat up in his seat, attention fully on the guards.

"Not any that I'm aware of. Where is my wife?" He asked, glancing outside of his small window to the blistering storm outside. There was no way she would be anywhere except her chambers—not after he caught her soothing Brandon to sleep. The sight had melted his heart immediately, glad to see his wife finally finding it in her to go see him, to give him a chance.

Though, he could not blame her, of course. He could still remember the day he brought the Stark babe home, and how he dreaded the meet throughout his months of journeying home to Winterfell.

Aelys had been on the forefront of his mind, even through the slimy politicking of King's Landing. The wait was only made ever longer by the fact that the party Cregan traveled North with had to wait until Brandon was old enough to travel, too. Moons went by painstakingly slow, and Cregan moved to load the carriage for the boy as soon as the Maester gave his word that Bran would not be suseptible to the outdoors during long durations on the road.

Cregan dismounted his grey mare, patting her on the neck in thanks before the stable boy guided her back to her designated place. With a tense sigh, he rolled his shoulders and opened the carriage door that held Brandon and his new wet nurse. Sara, his older sister, would join the family in a few short weeks while she continued her stay at the Blackwood's. He wished she was here to console his wife in the coming days. Gods know that he cannot, not when the news of his betrayal had to come from his own mouth. As he promised himself it should be. The sinner should say his own penance, no one else. A Stark is a slave to his oaths.

Thanking Greya kindly, Cregan picked up Bran in his arms. His onyx black curls shifted against the crook of his arm as he shifted the babe to be held better. The four moon-old babe fussed as he was removed from the woman's comforting hold. As if was, Cregan was more of a stranger to the young babe than his wet nurse was. Unfortunately, the Lord had not spent the amount of time with him as he knew he should have. The thoughts and guilt racked up in his mind and burned at the back of his throat every day, leaving Cregan to promise himself that in Winterfell he would spend more time with him.

Another promise for the list.

Cregan stepped through the courtyard's archway, holding his breath as he watched his beautiful wife standing by the Keep's doors, shivering but still insisting that she come out to meet her husband. Her smile was as lovely and bright as he remembered, a much more contented and relieved smile than she had sent him off to battle with. That day, she could hardly stifle her tears back as she hugged him 'goodbye'. He felt quite the same. Cregan would never leave for Southern business again, not in his lifetime. Once had been enough to last generations, though he was sure the Stark family would not go too long before being summoned again.

Her face shifted from joy to confusion in a matter of seconds. As Cregan continued straight towards her, Bran bundled up in so many wools and pelts that it entirely engulfed the babe. She lifted her skirts to step down to meet him. Originally, Cregan had wished to scoop her up in his arms and place a sweet kiss on her cold lips, but the bundle between them prevented such things. He could not greet her so sweetly and then present the bastard to her. Ripping the bandage off a fresh wound, Cregan would not be deceitful for longer than he had been during his moons of silence in the South.

"Husband," She smiled, reaching out to touch his chilled face, pink in the cheeks and ears from exposure. "You should come inside. A feast has been prepared for you—and your men, of course." She was antsy on her feet, eager to get inside to proper reunite with her husband, no bystanders gawking.

Speaking of bystanders—Cregan's entire party had separated and dispersed around the courtyard. They met their own wives, parents, or children as they laughed and conversed. Though, the loud and joyous clamor soon died down when whispers had been spread around by those who already knew of Cregan's boy. Wives that knew Aelys well stared in pity, clutching their shawls to their chests and shaking their heads quietly at their Lord.

He fought the urge to hang his head.

She had not yet seen the babe, only the cloth surrounding him.

"Cregan?" She whispered, tilting her head with concerned eyes. "What is wrong?" His sweet, sweet wife. Her first priority had been him over anything since the days of their honeymoon—the days she had confessed to be extremely anxious about during their courtship. She was a Northern woman herself, hardened and shaped like an ice sculpture but retaining her warm heart and spirit. Cregan had intimidated her greatly, according to her giggling confession, and she had feared he may be a cruel and selfish man since he could easily do as he wished to his Lady wife. He proved her wrong, apparently, getting to know his wife throughout their private honeymoon. They had a bond like no other, always at each other's side and filling in for the weaknesses of the other during their duties as leaders.

Cregan's brow furrowed deep, blinking away as he felt his nose start to sting.

Only then, when his glossy eyes met hers silently, did she glance down to the cloths. Slowly reaching up a shaky, gloved hand adjusted the pelts so she could peer past them. Gasping at the pale babe, Aelys' eyes sharply met his. A million thoughts raced through her head, clearly showing in her facial expressions. Not assuming the worst, as she probably should have done, Aelys asked, "has one of your men died? Is this babe an orphan?" Always so trusting of her Lord husband, something Cregan had admired and was eternally grateful for throughout their marriage.

"Aelys..." He cleared his throat when his voice came out much too quiet and hoarse. "This is my son." He declared to her, and to the onlooking crowd who did not bother hiding scandalized gasps.

Her eyes blinked in rapid succession, shaking her head lightly and smiling. "Don't jest, Cregan. We have no son."

His silence met her words. When he did not cave and admit to messing with his wife, Aelys shook her head more firmly. "No." She said, whispering. Her eyes clamped shut as she breathed in and out deeply, only opening to glance down at the babe, scrutinizing its appearing and comparing every freckle to Cregan's. "Don't do this to me, please. You would never do this to me." Her words were nearly lost to the air.

"It was one time, I swear it on my honor and Stark name." Cregan told her.

"On your name?" She harshly bit, stepping away from Cregan as if he had burned her. "Your honor? You swore on your honor the day we said our vows under the Weirwood tree. Under OUR Gods. Did that mean nothing to you? Did I—" She gasped out, covering her mouth with the back of her hand and clutching her stomach. A choking sob rippled through her, and Greya stepped forward to gingerly take Brandon from Cregan's grasp. His arms fell to his side, clenching as he stopped himself from holding his wife in comfort. She could find no solace in the man who hurt her so.

"I thought you wished to wait. You told me you wanted it, too. Was it just not me you wanted a family with?" She asked, cranking her neck up to look at her shameful husband.

"Aelys, I did—I do!" He started, stepping forward to wipe a hot tear from her cheek.

Flinching away from his touch, she looked up at him with the same mistrust and solemn acceptance that he found in a dying prey's eyes. Suddenly, Aelys looked to become aware of the crowd. Glancing around self-consciously, she straightened herself upright like the people expected of a Lady Stark. "The feast is growing cold. Enjoy it while it's warm." She loudly adressed the weary party and their families, who awkwardly moved to shuffle inside the dining hall. With a final glance past Cregan's shoulder to the wet nurse, Aelys was gone.

Seeing the shared glances of horror between the two, Cregan cleared his throat. "Where is my wife, boys?"

Ernest swallowed harshly, not daring to look him in the eye. "She—she said that she 'ad business in Winter Town. That you approved of it, I swear!"

Ron nodded so quickly that his head of curls messed about and framed his face further. The snow still on their heads and shoulders had now melted in the warmth of the Great Keep, reminding Cregan of the harsh weather the guards had to bear all day. They were trained and honed for such conditions, Aelys was not.

"Yes, Lord Stark! We couldn't disobey our Lady's words." He insisted.

"You think I'd make my wife go settle business in Winter Town during a blizzard?" He growled out, standing from his seat and storming between them to his doorway, where he turned on them and saw them both flinch in shock. "Which way did she go?"

"Uhm..." they shared another glance. "She said Winter Town, Lord Stark. What other way would she have gone?"

Cursing, Cregan grabbed Ice and lifted the great sword to his shoulder. He left without another word to anybody, knowing every second counted when it came to finding her. "Bloody fools." He scoffed to himself, mind turning and thinking of places she might head to.

Clearly, not Winter Town. She had no business there, not that he knew of, and although they had not been speaking these past moons he still oversaw all of her duties as Lady. Though, her reports of dealings and responsibilities was done through the Maester rather than her own mouth. A middleman, the poor elder had become. Cregan endured the silence without complaint, knowing his own actions brought it upon him.

His actions brought her further away from him than he perhaps estimated. He knew the babe would tear a rift in their relationship, and knew it would take a long time before they could even begin to mend it—but he never wanted it to go this far.

Back to her childhood home, to the Glovers in the Motte? Or, perhaps she found a secret lover that would meet her in the storm like a destined and tragic fairytale. He would not blame her for seeking love in another, though his never faded.

His quickened pace was only interrupted by Sara. "What is the rush for, brother?" The elder woman asked, dark brows furrowed with concern. Other the past four moons she had gained her strength back, looking the picture of health now that she was back home and recovering. Cregan could barely meet her gaze, looking between her and the doors ahead.

"My wife is gone." He told her honestly, shifting impaitiently in place. "I don't know where to, but I'm going to search for her."

Sara's dark eyes saddened, face scrunching up in grief. "This is my fault. I should have—"

Cregan stopped her immediately, taking her firmly by the shoulders and dipping his neck down to level himself. "No. It is mine alone. I made the choice to do this, I shall face the consequences of my actions."

"Cregan..." she sniffed, but did not allow tears to fall so easily.

"I'll be back." He promised. "With my wife."

Was she running away?

Cregan swung open the Great Keep's door, blinking staggardly at the wind gust that slammed into him. Not bothing to close it behind him, Cregan stormed to the stables and tacked his horse up. In a matter of minutes he was off and out of Winterfell's expansive walls.

His only option was to head towards Glover territory. It was a two days ride normally, but the storm would make it double or perhaps longer. She would not be far ahead, not even two hours ahead of Cregan and unknowing of how close he might be on her trail.

There were not even hoofprints left in her wake. The snow immediately covered all tracks and left only pristine fields of white powdery frost.

He would not know where she was until he spotted her amongst the white. Cobalt, her black stallion, was sure to stand out within close enough distance.

Until he did see her, he could only wait.

And it was exactly that; a waiting game. Cregan took only three days to reach the Deepwood Motte, faster than he anticipated. He was weary and exhausted, but still pumping with adrenaline and awake off sheer will. Here, in the safe walls of Harriston Glover's keep, his mare could finally have more than a few measly hours of rest, as well as food and water.

His fingers and toes burned with the edges of frostbite. Even in his thick protective gear, he was not entirely safe. The few, small fires that he built for himself in the cold nights gave him only a semblance of warmth. Each step felt like five as his vision blurred and weaned in and out. He steadied himself on a pole, waiting for his father-in-law to come downstairs to greet him. And, if luck be on his side, his Lady wife.

He owed more than an apology.

Harriston was a stern man, though not unreasonable. He loved his children and ensured they had only the best; education, caretakers, spouses. His eldest two children married long before Aelys was even of age to be wed, both men marrying Northern girls that they'd grown up with. When it came to his youngest and only girl, the man knew Lord Stark would be a most auspicious match. The Houses had long been friends and allies, and keeping the tradition of partnership thriving through marriage was no strange thing. He'd been even happier when Aelys wrote to him weekly, describing how enchanted she had been with her new husband and thanking him profusely for giving her a blessed match.

Now, the greyed man stood in front of Cregan with a deepset frown and a fierce look in his eyes. "Lord Stark. I thought you'd be busy in Winterfell."

Cregan cleared his throat, focusing on him intently. It made sense that the man was cross with him, especially after he assumed that Aelys had sent him a few lengthy letters telling of Cregan's infidelity. "I came to see my wife, and to bring her back home."

Harriston huffed a sarcastic laugh. "You send her back home, only to come yourself first?" He gestured around with his arms up.

Cregan tensed, "first? Is Aelys not already here?"

Lord Glover matched in his seriousness. "Aelys wrote to me three days ago, informing me that you had sent her here to be away from danger."

"I did not send her anywhere."

"You mean you do not know where my daughter is?" He asked, voice low and firm as he stepped closer. Though Harriston was a fine swordsman and a battle-worn fighter, Cregan did not fear the Lord's wrath, for he could easily best him in combat.

He did, however, have the brains to fear a furious father's vengeance.

His heart nearly beat out of his chest. "And she stated that she was on her way here?"

"I think I know what she said, boy." Lord Glover hissed. "Where is Aelys?"

"She must still be out there," Cregan murmured breathlessly, turning on his heel and running out of the fort's doors and back out to the stables. Cobalt was in none of them, confirmed to him that Lord Glover was not simply lying and hiding his wife away from him.

Cregan decided to take another horse—one well rested and ready to travel in the packed snow, unlike his own weary mare. Guiding it to the doors where Lord Glover had exited and looked at Cregan with a fear unlike the learned man usually expressed, he asked: Where are the kennels?"

When Aelys left to brave the storm alone, she had not anticipated the sheer unforgivable nature of it. Living in the North her whole life, she'd long grown used to cold weather and hunting for herself. Hunts often lasted days or weeks, being times of comraderie and companionship when out in the wilderness with your people. She had not been hunting in years, much less alone.

The snow had slowed her travel significantly and clouded her navigational judgment. North became South, and East became West after so long of walking. With the skies so darkened, it was even harder to tell the time of day. With every stop she made and every fire that burnt out too quickly for her to be fully warm, Aelys had grown desperate.

She found shelter in a half-conscious act to preserve her on life. Now, curled up with only her fur-lined dress and the pelt she had brought from Winterfell, she could not help but begin to accept that she would die in this cave.

Aelys thought of her life in a few curt thoughts.

She had only lived twenty and two years. She grew up with loving parents and two elder brothers who doted on her greatly. She married Lord Stark of Winterfell, someone who took her heart quicker than she'd ever thought possible. She would die here, alone and cold because of him.

She thought of all the things she had wanted from life. Not much, for a Lord's daughter. Aelys had always wanted love and gave love in return. Trusted perhaps too much and did not gain from it. She wished for children, eventually, and could never have them now. She wished to see the warm deserts of Dorne and the lush gardens of Old Town in her retirement.

Aelys Bolton would not see anything but the North, nothing but the cold snow and frost-tippes trees around. They had grown familiar and warm.

Warm.

She was so warm, now.

Aelys closed her eyes and fell asleep, dreaming of better days.

"You do not wish to return home to a babe in the nursery?" Aelys asked, voice low and humming as Cregan lay beneath her on their shared bed. Most men did, misliking the process of pregnacy but loving the outcome, for it could only serve to benefit them.

"We will have plenty of time for babes when I come back to you." He replied, brushing his lips over her the crown of her head. "What kind of husband would I be if I left you to deal with the struggles of pregnancy and birth all alone?"

"I won't be alone. Sara is staying, too. I will have a sister to keep me company and complain all my grievances about my missing husband to her." She said amusedly.

Cregan paused in his rhythmic stoking of her spine. "Sara has asked to come, my heart."

She paused, too, lifting her head from his chest and squinting at him. "Sara can come down to King's Landing with you, but I cannot?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "She will be staying at the Blackwood's residence at Raventree Hall, not King's Landing. I would never endanger either of you by bringing you to the capitol. She has been offered guest housing by her friend, Alysanne Blackwood, during my time down there."

She huffed, conceding to his words and dropping her head back down, listening again to his ever-steady heartbeat. "Must be nice to see the Riverlands." She said lightly. "I hear they have fields of flowers growing year-round."

"And the permanent smell of fish and mildew." Cregan added with a snort. "You're not missing anything, I swear it to you. Sara and I will be gone for a short period of time. I intend to leave as soon as things are settled and put to rest."

Aelys hummed her quiet acknowledgment. There was no argument to be had, not when Cregan was set to leave in the morning. "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell." She said cheekily, though there was plenty truth to the statement. Alone, she would serve as political head to Winterfell and the temporary 'Warden' while Cregan was missing in action. She had her advisors, consisting of Cregan's trusted councilmen, but the hole that she knew would sink itself into her heart already wore her into her.

Cregan laughed at her words, nodding. "Aye, my love, you will do perfectly. I'm sorry to leave you alone for so long, but I have no doubt you'll do great." He said proudly, kissing her nose. She scrunched it up at the ticklish feeling, allowing a girlish giggle to leave her throat.

"Don't be gone too long, husband. Your wife needs you here." She said, tilting her head up to meet his lips.

"I would never dream of it."

The moons passed by with no reprieve for Aelys. As Winterfell's sole head, her days were busy from dawn til dusk. Letters were exchanged sporadically with her husband while he helped Aegon iii ascend to his place on the iron throne.

Until, one day, his letters ceased. It had already been a full year without Cregan Stark, and Aelys was beginning to grow used to the lack of her husband and sister by her side. Routine had grown to be instinct for her, breezing through her duties like she'd done them all her life. The only thing missing was her lover.

Concerned, Aelys checked in with the resident Maester to ensure Cregan's wellbeing.

When he paused, lips pursed and hands clutching at his cane with a stress unlike the calm elder, he rasped out his own fears. "I, too, have received no word from Lord Stark. Though, no news has come of us death in the capitol, so he must simply be occupied."

Occupied at the end of the war? When Aegon had already been named King and all the men put to trial were either declared guilty or innocent? The brunt of the work was over and done with—told by Cregan himself.

So why was he silent for an entire moon?

It was another fortnite before the Stark wrote back to her. The letter was curt and brief.

My dearest Aelys,

Forgive my abrupt silence these past weeks. Please know that you have been on my mind throughout this entire time.

Sara has grown sick in Raventree Hall, and has not been able to travel with the host of men I have sent back home to the North. We will stay behind for another few moons while she is in recovery. I will return to you soon.

With love,

Cregan Stark.

It was shorter than his other letters by many paragraphs, pages even. Cregan left out no details when describing his miserable times in the capitol. Aelys found herself much enjoying his theatrical melodramatic retelling and was rendered bemused by this letter. Still, she continued to lead with no pause for breaks.

Three more moons later, and Cregan wrote that he was mere days away from Winterfell. Without Sara Snow, unfortunately, as she was still not entirely recovered, but his party could be postponed no longer.

Aelys rushed around Winterfell's Keep in a flurry of excitement. She ordered every room to be cleaned spotless, for rations to be saved for days until a feast could be made for their arrival, for hearths to be extra tended to, and for the courtyard to be prepared to clear the way for the host.

Finally, the days of busy bodies floating around the Great Keep came to a stop. The feast was warm and ready at all available tables. The hearths were warm and ready for sleepy heads to rest within the rooms. The tubs were filled with scalding hot water that would warm by the time they were used. Lady Stark stood for hours at the Great Keep's entry stairs in the courtyard.

She wanted to be there exactly when he walked through the archway. Despite the cold biting at her nose, the Lady stood resiliant and tall.

It was nearly in the afternoon when Cregan's party arrived. He came through first, leading as head of the host as any Lord should. A wheelhouse followed, surrounded by a small league of soliders all around it. She bounced on her heels slightly, seeing Cregan dismount from his ride. Though she found herself bemused and slightly hurt when he glanced at her and made his way towards the wheelhouse instead. Had Sara recovered enough to join and perhaps wanted to surprise her good sister? She hoped so, for she had missed her greatly. After growing up with only brothers, Aelys found a best friend and sister in Sara Snow. The whispers about Lady Stark befriending the bastard of Winterfell followed her around like a dark shadow, but she never paid them any mind.

Bastardry had never bothered Aelys before. Not even when she was a woman of noble birth and was taught that bastards were born inherently lustful, evil, and made of sin.

She waited patiently at the top of the steps for Cregan to fetch Sara.

To her surprise, he only pulled out of the carriage with a bundle of clothes in his arms. Pelts and blankets, it seemed. A plainly-dressed woman from the South stepped out after him but stayed trailing behind. A maid of some sort, though she had no clue as to why a Southern maid would need to follow Cregan back to Winterfell.

As he strided towards her, a strange and unhappy look on his face, she forced her anxiety back down her throat and raced to meet him. "Husband," she greeted with a smile. "You should come inside. A feast has been prepared for you—and your men, of course." Reaching out to caress his face and simultaneously brush flecks of snow from his loose hair, she couldn't help but stop to admire her husband's handsome features. It had felt like an eternity that they were separated, and she had begun to forget the full details of his frame. Forgot his scent in the room and his side of the bed. Nearly forgot the warmth that he provided simply from standing nearby.

The very warmth he is giving to her now, in the chilly courtyard.

His eyes appeared to gloss, his nose and cheeks pinking even more so than they had already grown in the biting air. Glancing over Cregan, she assessed quickly for signs of fatigue or illness.

"Cregan?" she asked gently. "What is wrong?" She prayed he did not catch whatever Sara had caught, or hid a wound under his mass of leathers and pelts.

When he shiftly lifted the bundle in his arms to gesture for her to look at it, she finally spared a look to the mysterious ball of cloth. She had completely forgotten about it until now, noticing the maid still behind Cregan a few yards back, head tilted down and looking at her slippers. Peeking over a fur pelt, Aelys gasped at the sight. A babe, only a few moons old by the looks of it. Her mind raced with possibilities. Why would Cregan bring a babe back instead of leaving it in more temperate climates like the Riverlands that he stayed in on the way up North?

"Has one of your men died?" She asked in a hushed tone, assuming first that one of his soldiers perhaps fathered a bastard babe before perishing in a battle or falling to sickness. "Is the babe an orphan?" Cregan did always have a soft spot for younglings, showcased clearly by his time spent personally training young squires of Winterfell. He had lost his own younger brother in their youth, and the hole had never filled from that loss of kin.

"Aelys..." he started, meeting her eyes with a soft and sympathetic look. "This is my son." Was said loud and clear for any listeners to hear.

A jest. Cregan had seldom liked to be humorous in front of crowds, or anyone but herself and Sara, but he must have been in good spirits today. Briefly glancing at the surrounding people, she found only pitiful looks from the women and severe looks from the men. Shaking her head, Aelys forced a smile onto her face and a shaky laugh. "Don't jest, Cregan. We have no son." She emphasized.

He only stared at her back. No words of comfort, no sudden burst of laughter among his men to tell her that the biggest prank in the world had been pulled on her. Just shameless silence.

He had declared her second best in front of all of Winterfell. Her people and his.

"No." She said firmly, shaking her head 'no'. She breathed in and out deeply, trying to clear her blurry eyes and woozy head. Glaring down at the false babe in his arms, she found many similarities that she wished she had not. The same straight brows that Cregan had, the same scattered freckles, the same pale skin. The only difference was the hair color—black as a midnight sky or dragonglass. The mother must be beautiful.

Moving her eyes to the maid behind Cregan, she found that the girl had a mousy blonde color to her tresses. She could not have possibly bore a black-haired babe. She felt sick, like she'd throw up and choke at the same time. "Don't do this to me. You'd never do this to me." She pleaded out, voice small and hoarse.

"It was one time. I swear it on my honor and Stark name." Cregan promised. But every word was like poison, filling her heart with a heavy black liquid and drowning her from the inside out.

"On your name?" She hissed out, uncaring of the onlookers for this one moment. She was allowed to be angry, callous, and spiteful, even. Any self-respecting woman would be. And she'd be damned if she wasn't. Any Stark woman ought to be when ruling over the entire North. Any Glover woman is.

"Your honor? You swore on your honor the day we said our vows under the Weirwood tree. Under OUR Gods! Did that mean nothing to you? Did I—?" Words spilled from her mouth before she can think properly. But she did not regret any of them, knowing she was in the right. Bile rose in her throat, pushing itself past the forced down emotions. She swiftly covered her mouth, stilling herself to prevent any more embarrassing. Subconsciously, she clutched at her empty stomach with her free hand, both mourning the fact that she'd have no children and thanking the Gods for not giving her any previously. A cry finally escaped her lips, watching the plain maid take the babe into her arms again as Cregan looked on helplessly to his wife.

Aelys found her voice again, though it was ragged and tired. "I thought you wished to wait. You told me you wanted it, too." He was a liar, the worst kind of man. "Was it just not me you wanted a family with?"

She'd rather be struck with his hand than his deceitful mouth. It would hurt much less.

"I did, Aelys—I do!" He pleaded, stepping forward to console her. His arms looked like steel traps in her louded mind.

She took a lengthy step back. She would not share his warmth, nor his love. Or his bed, his room, his damned dining room. His children. Not when he had shared it with another woman. Given her his love, his attention, his son.

She could not bear to keep herself calm any longer. Adressing the entire courtyard, who had made themselves the Stark's own personal peanut gallery, she spoke firmly. "The feast is growing cold. Enjoy it while it's warm." Without a second glance back at the Stark, Aelys excused herself to her chambers, where she emptied the contents of her stomach into the chamberpot until she could only dry-heave nothingness. These chambers had not been used since she arrived in Winterfell, instead choosing to sleep and stay in their marital ones. She would not step foot into those again unless she was dragged kicking and screaming.

Aelys awoke to strong arms lifting her from the stone floor. Groggily, she was stirred from her deep and preserving sleep. How long had she been traveling? How long had she been buried under those pelts? Time was a blur when she was in a near comatose state, dead to the world. Limbs were numbed and her body felt warm after so long in the cold weather.

"I've got you, sweet girl. We're going home." A familiar voice rung in the back of her head. Even the jolting movements of a horse trotting could not fully move her to consciousness as she fell back asleep.

When she fully gained her sense of mind, she could clearly hear the sound of two men arguing. The warmth of a hearth was next to her as she lifted heavy blankets and furs off of her body. Glancing around, Aelys found herself back right where it all started. In Cregan's room, formerly their marital chambers that she had long since moved out of. A large oil painting sat over the heart, depicting a newlywed image of her and Cregan. They both smiled brightly in the photo, much to Cregan's complaint that the painting did not make him look 'serious enough'. She only laughed and tipped the painter extra gold dragons for the accuracy.

She loved that painting more than any others they kept in the Great Keep. Now, the two faces looking down at her only served to remind her of the falsehood she lived every day while Cregan was absent. Taking care of Winterfell and the North all by herself, just to come back and be thanked by his uncouth mistakes.

Shakily standing up, she winced at the feeling coming back to her limbs. Wriggling all twenty of her toes and fingers, she ensured they still all had feeling. Miraculously, she did. The numbess still felt vaguely there, and her throat was extremely dry and achy. But at least she was alive. Even if it was back in Winterfell, she could attempt her return to the Motte as soon as the storm died down.

It had been a dreadful blizzard. Not a rare sight in the North, but usually none lasted so long. Aelys could not help but feel it was the Gods punish Cregan and Aelys for their marital spat. Something like this must be so futile and useless in their eyes and the eyes of the people of the realm, but to Aelys it was her world and her life. No one could help Aelys but herself. She'd leave these spoiled halls even if the Old Gods and the New wished otherwise. If Cregan didn't have to keep oaths, why should she?

Opening the large wooden door, Aelys found the source of the faint yelling. Her eyes widened at the sight of her father in front of Cregan, in all his gruff charm with his silver hair and beard. She hadn't seen him in nearly two years. She stayed at the archway under the door, simply listening in as the men shouted further down the hall. If either turned their heads, they would spot her eavesdropping.

"—cannot even keep her safe during Winter! Am I to expect her to stay safe during a wildling attack, or worse? Or will you be prioritizing the safety of your mistress?" Harriston shouted, veins nearly popping out from his forehead and neck in his fury. Snow still gathered on his pelt coat, meaning he had just arrived recently.

"It is my mistake that she was endangered out there—but I would never let such a thing happen again under my protection. This is her home, I cannot allow her to go back to the Dreadfort. She is a Stark." Cregan emphasized, though had a defensive raised tone.

"Was she a Stark when you bed a whore in King's Landing?"

"The situation is more complicated than that." He responded, clenching his jaw.

"Nothing could ever be more complicated than losing your wit at a brothel, Stark. There is no argument to be had. She is staying with her family, where she was intending." Harriston growled out, a tone of finality to his tone. As he swung on his feet to head down the hall, face set in a worried and seething anger, he finally spotted his daughter.

"Aelys!" He yelled in relief, rushing toward her and scooping her up into his thick arms. "We're going home immediately. We will wash our hands of the Starks once and for all."

"I will not allow that." Cregan spoke from behind. As Aelys hugged her father back just as tightly, it was a battle to keep her tears from flowing in his safe arms. She missed her father more than she knew.

Before Harristone could speak, Aelys nodded. "We will settle this." She said flatly. Her father hesitantly let her go, nodding once firmly after seeing the resolve in his daughter's eyes.

"Very well. I will wait in the dining hall for you." He sighed, walking away.

Aelys shivered in the loss of warmth again. In her bare feet and night gown, she felt the cold of the cobblestone walls and floors start to seep under her skin again. "Here," Cregan murmured, gently shifting his mass of brown wolf pelt over her shoulders and clicking the direwolf emblem into place.

She allowed it, though she did not thank him with words. She took a deep breath, looking him in the eyes. "I want to separate. Divorce, I mean." She said tiredly.

Cregan flinched, jaw ticking and heavily considering her words. "That is entirely my fault. It is in your right to ask that of me." He said, voice dimmed and not nearly half of his assuredness. "But please, hear me out."

"What could I possibly hear you out with?" She asked, exhaustion clear in her tone. She'd dealt with this situation long enough.

Cregan nudged the door back open, nodding for her to enter. Reluctantly, she led the way in and watched as he gently shut it behind them. "I swore an oath, nearly nine moons ago." Cregan started.

Her brows furrowed, bemused. "To whom?"

Guiltily, he looked down at her, looking much alike to a kicked pup. "My sister."

"To Sara? What ever for?" She grew frustrated, knowing he was beating around the bush.

Taking a deep breath, he told her everything. "Sara stayed with her friend Alysanne Blackwood in Raventree hall for the entire time I was aiding King Aegon. In that time—she fell pregnant."

Aelys' heart dropped to her stomach. The same sick feeling overtaking her. She did not say a word.

"Davos Blackwood and Sara had built a bond, much like we did." He said. "When she told Davos of the news, they both went to Lord Blackwood to plea to marry each other. He refused, not allowing his heir to marry a bastard."

"And you legitimized Brandon as your own in turn?" She hissed.

"Sara begged me to. She lived her life as a bastard—she did not wish the same for her own son. I swore to her that my nephew would never be allowed the same treatment. I knew Aegon would do it." He trailed.

"So you bring him home, and humiliate me instead? You didn't even tell me, your own wife! You chose Sara over me. She is your sister, I know, but she chose to be with Davos Blackwood." She could have taken a tea, or moved to Essos or Dorne where bastards were more accepted. There were other options, but neither Sara nor Cregan used them. "That is cruel, Cregan. It is heartless." She cried.

"I never wished to hurt you, I only wanted to protect her. It was my oath." Cregan pleaded, grabbing her hands in his.

She shivered again, though unknowing if it was in chill or her own anger. Part of her was happy that he never truly took another woman to bed—never picked another other her. Though he still hid the biggest secret in the world from her for moons. Allowed her to suffer in their shared home and withstand the pitious looks of the people and court.

"I can't trust you. Not ever again. You could not trust me with your own kin's truth, and punished me for it." She stated. She could not allow herself to cave in so easily, to fall back into his arms.

"I understand, sweet girl." He muttered, softly stroking the apple of her cheek almost mindlessly. "I will sign whatever the Maester's conjure up. You will be free to marry whoever you wish—someone who will not lie to you."

The Starks were known for their loyalty and devotedness to their oaths. If Cregan Stark had lied to his wife so easily, no lesser man could ever make her happy with faithfulness and loyalty. Aelys had accepted her life to be one of loneliness from the day Brandon was allowed into the home.

"I will stay in Deepwood Motte for the time being. From there, I will see where my path leads." She said vaguely, unknowing now of what her heart desired. "Wish Sara well for me." Aelys asked of him, leaving him behind as she wiped any straying tears from her face.

"I love you, Aelys." He said, calling softly after her.

"I know." She whispered to herself.

In the dining hall, Harriston awaited her arrival. Perking up when she entered, he knowingly took her into his arms. "I'm tired, father."

"Let's go home. Your mother has missed you dearly." He said, planting a fatherly kiss to her temple.

Aelys would not yet send word for a formal separation to the Citadel or to the King. For now, time apart was what she declared best for herself.

divider by - @issysh3ll

tags - @palomavz @emithefrog @karinalight @johnshelbywife @tojisrealwifey @baddielizzy @pearldaisy @brookiecookie @jessicar401 @hardkiddonut @littlelilly27-blog @nayaniasworld @just-mj-or-not @flaneurpastel @unsweetenedpeatea @blucesita09 @maxmegara @deeeeexx @masschotch @janniepark1997 @spongelistener @margaaaa30 @paracii @lovebabe18 @rey26 @damneddamsy @yunnifer @kenzcarson @glqmmywhqmmy @arizonadesert @blumin8 @its-your-girl-savy @dreamygirli3 @aemondloverr @zaranobiyuyu @nsr-15 @oxymakestheworldgoround @isansstuff @high-speed-r

so many tags dont work 🥲 will try to tell in comment sec

ending is ambiguous. Will she decide to divorce or eventually mend their relationship? Up to you!

might make an alt ending where he really is just a shitty guy but this had been my idea from the start (many guessed it and i could not reply to them because of it lmao)

sorry if those two scenes got repetitive, but I wanted to show the 'cregan bringing brandon home' from both of their more detailed perspectives. Cregan's shame and guilt and her humiliation and heartbreak.

so many people guessed so close (to the sara part at least) only saw Jace thoughts tho, but he's already dead long before Cregan's walk down to the South. Would have been much more dramatic, but I think Jace would never allow a child of his to be apart from him. Many people swayed me to lead them to separate instead of stick together, and it does make more sense to have her leave him in the end. Although he did not cheat he still lied and publicly humiliated her, even unintentionally, but he's a grown man who is smart enough to know consequences.

#cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #hotd fanfic #cregan stark #cregan stark x oc #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #hotd fandom #hotd fanfiction #cregan fanfiction #fancition #writing

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