#When their friends family and community are the ones fucked up for years to come from a mass tragedy maybe then they’d have a fucking heart

[rickktish]

Some unsolicited Harry Potter Thoughts and Headcanons

Ron Weasley is one of my favorite characters. Ron Weasley should have died from the poison in Slughorn's office when he was 16 so that y'all would treat him with the respect he deserves instead of shitting on him and replacing him with Draco in Leather Pants.

The entire reason Dumbledore is so fucked up actually has nothing to do with his sordid past; it comes from the (Doylist) fact that he was a plot device in a children's book until the main characters (and thus the audience) got old enough that it needed to become a YA series, and then had to find ways to justify is plot device-ness after being magically transformed into a character. The justification did not succeed.

Harry and Ginny were fine as a ship. Not spectacular, but fine. But if the series had come out 10-20 years later than it did I would be frothing at the mouth that Harry ended up with Ron's sister instead of Ron.

Draco Malfoy was a victim of circumstance in that he was raised by racists to be a racist. Draco Malfoy did not change his mind about his racism by the end of the series, but he did change his mind about the cult leader his parents had raised him to worship, and he deserves credit for that. Do not give him credit for what we do not have evidence of him doing, namely becoming not racist. No one in his family did that. Don't pretend that they did just to make them look shinier.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all bad friends at different points in the series, but as far as I can recall only Harry and Hermione exhibited actively toxic behavior. Ron had his disagreement with Hermione in book 3 and with Harry in book 4, but he had valid points in PoA (owner of a pet is responsible for that pet's actions) and was operating under false assumptions which he clearly communicated in GoF ("I thought you might've told me if it was the Cloak... because it wouldn't covered both of us, wouldn't it? But you found another way, did you?") before getting his head out of his ass ("Harry," he said, very seriously, "whoever put your name in that goblet -- I -- I reckon they're trying to do you in!") Followed by a sincere apology, interrupted though it was ("Ron opened his mouth uncertainly. Harry knew Ron was about to apologize and suddenly found he didn't need to hear it. "It's okay," he said, before Ron could get the words out. "Forget it." |"No," said Ron, "I shouldn't've--"| "Forget it," Harry said. Ron grinned nervously at him, and Harry grinned back.) Ron also apologized after leaving in DH. If anyone can remember a single instance of either Harry or Hermione apologizing to Ron for something they did that was wrong or for direct harm rather than accidental harm they've done, would you please add it to this post? I'm hoping it's just been too long since I did an in-depth read of the series and I've forgotten something, because I genuinely can't remember a time and I haven't been successful in locating one by my cursory searches through my ebook editions. I would genuinely like to be wrong about this, please and thank you.

I believe with my whole soul that the reason Dumbledore didn't get Sirius out of prison was because he was having Grindelwald flashbacks. Person I trusted with my whole soul turned out to be pro-enslavement/genocide? Person my students trusted with their magically concealed location appears to have turned out to be pro-Voldemort (and everything he uses to justify his pursuit of power)? He literally did not believe any doubts he might have held about Sirius' guilt, because he hasn't trusted his own judgement since he was 18 and his little sister died. also he 1) canonically did not know that Sirius wasn't the secret keeper and 2) probably did not know that Sirius never had a trial, so there's also that.

Harry and Ron 100% should have gone to the Yule Ball together. I would forgive their not ending up together so long as they had gone and had a fantastic time. Unfortunately, GoF was written in 2000, and we missed out for it.

Hermione would be an emotionally (and potentially physically) abusive spouse to Ron, not because I feel any need to put her down or bash her in any way, but because she wasn't willing to tell him that she was into him and instead conjured birds to attack him when she caught him kissing another girl. I think with time, effort, and a decent dose of humility, they could work it out, but at some point their kids are going to be chatting with friends and reveal the most casually fucked up shit about their parents' relationship to someone who's going to look utterly horrified and poor Rose and Hugo will have no idea why because to them it will be completely normal.

Childhood is thinking Dumbledore is the good guy and Snape is the bad guy. Angsty teenhood is thinking Snape is the good guy and Dumbledore "raised Harry like a pig for slaughter." Maturity is realizing that Snape did good things for really fucked up reasons like "I'm obsessed with the woman whose husband and child I would have seen killed so I could have another chance to get in her pants but unfortunately she's dead so I guess I have to keep her child who I hate alive" while also actively causing (directed) severe harm to the children under his care, and that Dumbledore did fucked up things for some good reasons like "I can't let this person who tortured animals as a child and committed murder in his teens destroy the world" and for some bad reasons like "I would literally die right now but unfortunately I have shit to do" (I honestly think everyone somehow missed the fact that Dumbledore was suicidal?? in spite of the fact that he committed assisted suicide?? I'm not quite sure how, but I suspect it has something to do with the woobification of Snape, so. there's that) while also causing (mostly indirect) moderate to severe harm to all who were in his care including, but not limited to, the government officials who asked him for advice, the staff and children at the school he ran, and his own family. The essential difference comes because Snape acted as he did toward others because he hated the world and everything in it, especially children, whereas Dumbledore acted as he did toward others because he couldn't make up his mind whether or not the ends justified the means and his life was entirely defined by the practice of both intentional and unintentional self-sabotage.

This absolutely might be giving Rowling too much credit, but I grew up with fairy tales of goblins who stole and guarded gold and didn't learn that goblins were a racist caricature based in antisemitism until I was in my late teens or early twenties by reading a post about how writing goblins as bankers meant that Rowling is antisemitic. I also genuinely didn't believe it at first, because I grew up in a culture that reveres Judaism and the Jewish people as God's chosen and the source for the foundation of mankind's relationship with God, and I had to seriously work to believe that the slightly goofy, slightly gross fairy tale creature I was familiar with could have such a disgusting connotation. I strongly suspect that Rowling herself had no idea until she started being accused of racism, at which point she pulled her classic schtick and doubled down, radicalizing rather than being open to being told she might be wrong. Sometimes you grow up with something being so normal and part of the regular zeitgeist that it never occurs to you that it could have its origins in racism. (I experienced this myself recently from a post about the origin of the popularity of private pools in the US, which I always thought were just a rich people status symbol. Even though I've known about the issue of pool discrimination since my mom, who attended a formerly black-only middle school in Alabama as a child, read me picture books about it when I was in elementary school, I didn't put it together until I read the post.) The quality of your character is determined then by how you respond to the criticism rather than whether or not you knew before the accusations began. The end result is the same, but I feel like holding her responsible for knowledge we have no way of telling if she knew before she started being accused of having it is bad-faith criticism, and I'd much rather hold her accountable for wrongs I know she's committed rather than ones I can only speculate about.

Dudley Dursley deserved his redemption. He grew up with the rule "Don't be like Harry" and figured out by the end of the series that Harry was a person, which is better than either of his parents managed. I honestly think a good dose of the real world-- maybe university or something-- would give him the foundation he would need to separate himself from his parents' beliefs and become a halfway decent human being. I wish the best for Dudley Dursley.

Neville Longbottom deserved better. In every possible way.

[cassandralexxx]

the world is in a disastrous state of affairs when people are supporting a school shooter over the community bc “forgiveness is free” and “are people not allowed to change”

[johndonneswife]

someone really should be talking about how difficult it is to plan a wedding - a gay wedding - when both of your families fucking suck

[novy2sirius]

VENUS HOUSE CORE ©novy2sirius

🝮 more core posts: moon core // mercury core

🝮 trigger warning: s3x (only for 18+), venus in 5h men, stalkers/stalking

🝮 take these with a grain of salt since the entire chart matters. this isn’t a super serious post. it’s meant more so for entertainment

🝮 these are random things i’ve noticed these people seem to relate to and specific experiences i’ve seen multiple of them have before

𐚁 venus in the 1h

being told your whole life that you should be a model, being direct when you like someone/not being able to hide it, a main focal point in your life being romance, being a beauty symbol, being weirdly turned on when your crush gets mad at you, loving really passionately, enjoying being alone or just doing things on your own/being independent

𐚁 venus in the 2h

wanting to spend all your money on your bf/gf/theyf/themf, being a gold digger or coincidentally only falling for people that are wealthy, being a talented singer, being a fashion icon, having strong self worth, having good values, being a chronic shopper, being an extremely determined person, dating people who have strong self worth

𐚁 venus in the 3h

being extremely charming, being told you have a “flirty personality”, dating people you met on social media/a dating app, having a pretty/cute voice, having a crush on your neighbors as a kid, people always calling your siblings hot, loving poetry, being the only person you know who actually enjoys school, loving romantic novels, being a good communicator, wanting for there to be fairness in arguments, having a nice car, having a crush on your uber driver

𐚁 venus in the 4h

your mood being dependent on how good you look, not enjoying s3x unless there’s an emotional connection formed between you and the person prior, finding out that someone had a crush on you for years after they stop having a crush on you because they waited too damn late to tell you, your inner child coming out around your partner, people crushing on your mom, people being jealous of your family, people being jealous of your house, having a baby/childlike voice

𐚁 venus in the 5h

having really pretty hair and being complimented all the time on your hair, weirdly enjoying risk-taking activities, having similar hobbies to your lovers, your child-like spirit coming out around your lover, having flings and then ending up dating them, having beautiful children, being the life of the party, being really creative, BEING A GOD DAMN PLAYER.. sorry the men that have this always fuck me over apologies ✨

𐚁 venus in the 6h

getting the ick from guys/girls/thems easily, being super picky about who you date, one of your dealbreakers in relationships being not showering every day, falling in love with your coworkers, loving animals more than humans, acts of service being your love language, being really good at giving advice, judging others but only to help them improve because you love them

𐚁 venus in the 7h

being conventionally attractive, your best friend fucking your bf/gf/theyf/themf, people always thinking you have a crush on them/someone else when you very obviously don’t, having really pretty hair and being complimented all the time on your hair, enemies acting like they hate you but secretly being in love with you, having jealous partners, being extremely charming

𐚁 venus in the 8h

being told “you’re so shy omg” when you’re literally just existing, people always thinking you have a crush on them/someone else when you very obviously don’t, always falling for the “bad boys/girls/thems”, being stalked by your ex, dating/marrying rich people, finding out that someone had a crush on you for years after they stop having a crush on you because they waited too damn late to tell you, having a seductive aura, being obsessed with romance

𐚁 venus in the 9h

having a bunch of long distance relationships, having a crush on a bunch of people that live far away from you, finding people outside of your culture more attractive, forming beliefs based on your lovers/crushes opinions, changing your beliefs based on the people you admire, loving astrology, loving spirituality, having a crush on tv characters more than people you actually have met in real life

𐚁 venus in the 10h

being known for your beauty or the people you date, dating/marrying successful people, your career involving things you love or the arts, falling in love with your bosses or coworkers, only crushing on famous people, being admired by the public, everyone having a crush on your dad, leaving behind a beautiful legacy after passing

𐚁 venus in the 11h

having a crush on the weirdest people, not being able to enjoy a show as much unless it has a ship (cute couple) in it, finding people outside of your own race more attractive, people wishing they looked like you, dating your best friend, dating people you met online, having a lot of attractive friends, having a lot of jealous friends, marrying wealth, being a chronic online shopper, being good at social networking

𐚁 venus in the 12h

being able to hide that you have a crush on someone really well, being ghosted after talking to someone for months, having to file a restraining order against your ex, being told “you’re so shy omg” when you’re literally just existing, not being able to enjoy a show as much unless it has a ship (cute couple) in it, finding out that someone had a crush on you for years after they stop having a crush on you because they waited too damn late to tell you, having an addiction to being in love, loving spirituality, having a crush on animated characters on tv more than people you actually know that are human

[sabertoothwalrus]

here are some preliminary sketches I had done in my sketchbook for the peepaw chilchuck comic.

I wanted to follow it up with some worldbuilding thoughts I had while working on it, if that sort of thing is interesting to anyone:

- it’d take place 5ish years post-canon

- I changed almost everyone’s hair to show time had passed. Chilchuck and Kabru were the most drastic (I COULDNT STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT LONG HAIR KABRU THAT KUI DREW), Marcille grew out her bangs, Senshi’s beard is slightly shorter, and Izutsumi’s hair is mildly longer. Laios and Falin give me the impression that they’re the brand of neurodivergent that’d pick one haircut and stick to it for the rest of their lives. I almost gave Laios facial hair but idk he’s gotten over his daddy issue enough for that.

- Emertim Chils: I tried to follow both the half-foot and dwarven naming conventions for the baby, so Emer- comes from “emerald” (dwarven names are often gemstones or ore) and -tim because Chilchuck’s father’s first name was Tim :) Dwarves don’t have family names, so Emertim would take Chils, same as Flertom. Usually they’re named after their father but I didn’t wanna name a random dwarf man. thank you Chel for helping name him 🫶💕

- Initially the idea that Chilchuck would keep an entire grandchild a secret was just a joke, but it made sense when I thought about it. I wonder,, would dwarf/half-foot couples have trouble conceiving? Because if so, I’d imagine Flertom may have lost a couple pregnancies. Chilchuck is already such a private person, and I don’t think he’d feel comfortable airing his daughter’s grief like that. They wouldn’t wanna tell anyone until they were sure this baby was gonna make it.

- For the above reason, Chilchuck would absolutely spoil this kid. Not that he wouldn’t have spoiled his grandkids anyway, but I think after all that stress, he’d be extra extra doting. He’d be letting him do things he’d never DREAM of letting his own daughters do. Completely different parenting style.

- I think he’s still too prideful to take advantage of Laios being King (sidenote: is Laios even wealthy??? does a kingdom that sprung up from a previously-sunken continent even have money?? what the fuck is their economy), but like,,, if Laios offered any gifts he wouldn’t exactly say no.

- Izutsumi surprisingly really likes the baby :3 she’d like to take naps with him and he’d like her purrs and she’d have a lot of fun playing with him.

- SENSHI. meemaw mode. That kid would grow up not realizing Senshi isn’t technically one of his grandads. He is FEEEEEDING this kid.

- LAIOS DOES GET TO HOLD THE BABY!!!!!! just. eventually. They don’t actually expect a Tarrare situation LMAO they just wait until the kid is a little less fragile and a little more mobile. I think Laios would be really good with toddlers.

- Chilchuck is very thankful Emertim’s half-foot genes kick in sooner than later because he was getting too big for him to carry.

- Emertim would probably get the extended lifespan. He and Marcille would get to stay friends for a very very long time :’)

- my personal headcanon is that Chilchuck and his wife decide to split. He still loves her and it’s probably still a bit mutual, but after four years of almost no-contact, they decide their communication issues aren’t working well for their relationship. Plus, the Adventurer’s Bible says Chilchuck is renting their old house out to family, and he’d feel bad kicking them out so he and wife could move back in. They’d still be on good terms, and would be good at coordinating when to babysit.

[spitefullyjewish]

Okay, this is my third time trying to put this into words. I am very upset, hurt, and honestly terrified. I’m about to share a lot about myself, my family, and a very scary situation happening right now, so for my own safety, I won’t provide too many details.

I live in a secondary city in a South American country. The Jewish community here is very small—around 5,000 people total out of over 50 million. In my city, which has over 3 million people, there are only about 300 Jews. We’re literally on the other side of the world from Israel.

We own a family business, a small clothing factory where we make knitted garments. It was founded by my grandmother 48 years ago. My father is the current manager, and both my sister and I work there. We employ around 80 people. We pay fair and legal wages (not the industry standard in my country), and although times are really hard, we’ve never missed a payment, not once in our 48 years in business. My father paused his own salary and hasn’t received a cent since January, and my sister and I both stopped getting paid for three months. But the people who work with us have always received their salaries as they should.

Now, today, September 30th, (just a couple of days before the start of our high holidays and exactly one week before the first anniversary of October 7th) the biggest and most important public university in my city, in conjunction with the syndicate council, invited the Palestinian ambassador to give a conference about the current situation and the war. Well, apparently, it derailed into open antisemitism and ended up as a conference about how Jews are all thieves and scammers. Because, I kid you not, back in the '90s, a huge group of my country’s biggest companies went bankrupt and couldn’t pay their employees what they owed. One out of about 30 of those companies was owned by Jewish people. So, of course, "we Jews are all liars, scammers, and thieves, just like the Israelis—always trying to take what doesn’t belong to us"

So, what conclusion did they reach at this conference about Palestine and the current war happening on the other side of the world? Well, naturally, they decided to target Jewish-owned businesses in my city (which means our factory and two other small businesses in our area) to protest and vandalize, because we’re all thieves and scammers, and Israel is bad and horrible, and everyone in my city needs to be made aware of that. When are they planning to come? October 7th, of course, when else?

The only reason I even know about this is that one of my Jewish friends decided to attend the conference to hear from the Palestinian ambassador and, risking their own safety, stayed to hear the names of the businesses that are going to be targeted.

I'm hurt and scared and I've been trying not to cry since I found out. These are the people on the left, these we were supposed to be my people, I've marched with them, I've worked and voted with them. I don't know what to do? Please, please tell me how are they different from actual Nazis? How is this situation different from any other jew living in Europe in the 1930's? I guess shannah fucking tovah to me, as if last year wasn't a wake up call. I am fucking awake.

[bubuslutty]

fluff, fluffy, sweet sugary fluff!!!

thinking abt how 141 will accompany their captain and his wife on a family outing with their little girl who's a year old.

they go to a shopping mall, that has a trampoline park inside, and end up getting themselves tickets for the toddler session in the morning.

it's sort of funny, four massive military dudes sitting down and changing their socks into trampoline appropriate socks and wearing their little wristbands with a tiny bundle of joy already excited to go join the party inside.

John's wife doesn't feel like jumping so she picks a table and sits, the men leaving their shoes and things with her. Before going in, John hands his little one to Simon to hold while he goes and gets his missus a drink and whatever slice of cake she wants to have in the meantime. When she's all set, he kisses her and goes back to his men.

They get checked in by an employee who asks them to show their wristbands and socks and says hello when he sees John's little one, already giggling and clapping, kicking her legs.

It's pretty noisy, the music they're playing on the speakers is loud, not obnoxiously so, and there's a parent with every single toddler in sight. It's adorable, how many little ones try to jump and bounce and end up falling.

John decides to put his darling down and see where her tiny legs take her, she immediately starts to waddle, holding onto the edges of some higher, flat, platforms, trying to bounce but when she can't seem to do it she looks for her daddy and calls, "Dada !"

Gaz laughs, "She wants your help, go on."

And John bends down and holds her little hands in his, using his knees to make the trampoline go up and down, not too much, she's too tiny and may fly away if he does it too hard.

That's how the rest of the 1h session goes, they follow her like hawks, actively circling her in such a strategic manner that no rogue adult accidentally jumps on her. They take their job very seriously, and it looks like even other parents have noticed as well. Some mums smile at them, while others when they accidentally bump into them when backing away say, "I'm so so-- Wow, you're huge!"

The trampoline park even has two basketball areas, which are empty, and so the boys take advantage of the fact and goes to throw in some hoops, and it takes nothing for everyone to get competitive. Which they're busy competing against each other, John takes his baby back to where mum is and gives her a drink to hydrate her a little bit, she was bouncing and bouncing and running a mock after all.

Meanwhile, the boys move to a place called airbags. It's a high platform with stairs on the side, right below it there's trampolines and a massive airbag where you land. It's empty, so it's safe for them to go with no fear of accidentally stepping or jumping on a little one.

There's three trampolines lined one next to the other, so they each take one, jumping at the same time. Johnny somehow manages to do a backflip and lands on his belly, Kyle a front flip and Simon just lands flat on his back. They laugh and go up the stairs again, this time Johnny looks at Simon and glances at Kyle, whatever silent communication happened between them went right over Gaz's head. So they both grab him and throw him into the airbags and he lands with a scream, "Oh, fuck off!"

Johnny laughs his ass off until he has to escape Simon's arms wrapped around his waist, trying to throw him over, "Oi, no !"

Johnny doesn't want to full on wrestle his friend up in a trampoline park full of babies so he allows the giant of a man to lift him, spin him and chuck him in the airbag, sinking down down until he has to make his way out on all fours.

John comes back with his baby and they keep playing with her until she gets tired, and eventually their 1h session ends and they have to make their way out of the trampoline park. John's missus is laughing at them, because they're sweaty and looked like they had way more fun than their baby. They all plop down on the chairs to drink water and dry themselves with some tissues, change their socks and wear their shoes back on.

John's little one is tucked in her pram, little belly rising up and down as she sleeps with her little hands balled up into fists. John gives her a little kiss on the head and kisses his wife right after, thanking her for giving him this, for giving him everything he ever wanted. It's sappy but true.

When they're ready to leave, John pushes the pram out of the park, his wife locking one arm with his and the other with Kyle as he talks to her about some series they both like.

Simon walks on the other side, his shoulders sometimes brushing against his Captain's when he peers down and check if the baby is still asleep, and it makes John warm everytime.

[rmbunnie]

I see so much of "is post-crisis Robin Jason an innocent little sweetie-pie or a mean aggro delinquent" and after reading through all of his batman and detective comic issues post-crisis I think i can safely say he's... an introverted and distrustful, but altogether friendly teen boy who has convinced himself to the deepest level that he is an Adult Man, and also does not hold a particularly good view of adults.

The sweet little babypie characterization falls a little short (assuming we aren't being too silly with it, there's plenty of that in the comedy issues of tec) because it disregards the part where he's a jaded teenager who is constantly going off and trying to take care of his own problems like "his own man" and reacts negatively to any breach of trust or move to take care of him. But negative doesn't mean "violent and rageful." The delinquent angle is incorrect because not only is his disposition peppy, silly, and agreeable most of the time, but assuming the problem upsetting him isn't a predator or the guy who killed his dad (and three out of four canon instances it is a predator to be clear) he reacts to emotional turmoil with Bruce by bedrotting, sulking, communicating through notes, and overall being avoidant. The only times he lashes out are when Bruce is calling him out or after Bruce told him to his face that he chose to look for the Joker over looking for him, and that case of "lashing out" is just getting a little snarky.

More than anything his main personality trait (besides being silly, a robin staple) is kinda coming into this parentified as fuck. Not that it's Catherine's fault, but it really shaped his character, like one of the first things he says to Bruce (after he promised not to turn Jason in to the foster system) is that he kept her fed and warm as long as he could like he wasn't her ten year old child when he started. It's why he views himself on the same level as adults and why he gets all closed off at any insinuation that he needs to be taken care of, both of which heavily inform his dynamic with Bruce. He's constantly checking in on Bruce's wellbeing, like half of Batman: the Cult is just him taking care of Bruce while he recuperates from being brainwashed. (Side note, he's also constantly asking Bruce stuff like "what's your relationship like with this woman or this rogue or the concept of religion, how did that play out, how do you feel about it?" he is Very chatty like that.) The first thing he does when Sheila tells him her (revised to exclude medical malpractice) life story is hold HER and try to affirm her struggle. After a while he starts to act more childish with Bruce (although he doesn't really stop trying to brush off attempts to care for him) but as soon as Bruce admits he prioritized crimefighting over Jason and didn't show up to look after Jason like Jason assumed he came there for, Jason snaps back to acting very independent and rejecting any attempts to be looked after on any terms other than some kind of "equals" thing, which he isn't, as he's a 15 year old boy. Like. He's very sweet to his former neighbor, but also he refers to being a homeless child and the sole provider in his condemned building living situation as "getting by" to her.

He's definitely not. some bloodthirsty delinquent, at least to anyone who's not an uber-misogynistic predator, and he like demonstrably is a pretty sweet kid. It's just that when people say he's a sweet kid they kinda just jump to "untraumatized eight-year-old who grew up in a loving family and just got a new puppy from Santa" instead of "good hearted and curious teenager who has trust issues and is deeply uncomfortable with being taken care of, so kinda just compromises by pretending his dad is a Friend Doing him a Solid and acts like his kid only when he has plausible deniability so he can't get the rug pulled out from under him." Of course. He does kinda get the rug pulled out from under him despite all that. So there's that.

[pedgito]

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘, 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 | BFD!Joel x Fem!Reader

summary | the rich father of your bestfriend, sarah — joel miller, was a mystery to you until one day he isn't and you quickly find that your interest in him isn't one-sided. [12k]

pairing | joel miller x fem!reader

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, au/no outbreak, bfd!joel, ceo!joel, mentions of reader growing up poor/absent parents (joel is ridiculously loaded, it's fic y'all let me live lol), sneaking around, age gap (not explicitly specified, but reader is in final year of college and joel is probs late 40s/50s), vacations, gift-giving, unprotected piv, come swallowing, daddy issues if you squint, one (1) pussy slap, oral (f receiving), semi-public fucking

author’s note | anyways, here’s this. big age gap, some power dynamic stuff but not really. if you don’t like, don’t read & all that jazz. love you babies. xo.

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic recs

There was no hiding who Joel Miller was to the town of Austin—a pioneer in the community for rebuilding and building upon the surrounding shopping areas and neighborhoods to save the town from complete gentrification. He owned three companies at this point—one manned by his brother Tommy who dealt with larger businesses, handled the biggest amount of workload when it came to dealing with customers. The other was handled by his wife Maria, more often communicating with smaller businesses in the area. Mom and Pop shops, family owned and locally sourced shops. And Joel dealt with the community directly, building houses at an affordable rate that kept his business booming and well above the surrounding competition.

He was so sought after that the idea of him felt like an enigma.

But, to you—he was just Sarah’s dad. For years you never had the pleasure of meeting him, with his constantly busy schedule he was often away when you came to visit Sarah on their massive—almost too comically large piece of land on the outskirts of Austin, Texas. 

A large two-story farmhouse that seemed like something right out of a storybook—pristine and in perfect condition, surrounded by what felt like miles of grassy land and fencing. Horses, chickens, goats, growing piglets that were taken care of by Sarah and Joel themselves.

You’ve known Sarah since you were fourteen, aware of her upbringing and the type of family she came from, but it never deterred her from being the kindest friend you’ve had. And your shared, similar interest led to an easy friendship that lasted well into college. Sarah was also aware of your…less than ideal family situation, living under the roof of a single parent household, given you were an only child it wasn’t horrible—but your father was a drunk and didn’t manage his money well and that often meant going without. It didn’t matter what, but there was always something lacking that you wish you didn’t have to make up for with your already overwhelming amount of college work and lingering debt.

You didn’t have anywhere to go, unfortunately. 

But, Sarah was always there.

And it isn’t until your final year of college that you find yourself finally meeting the once mysterious Joel Miller, remembering that Sarah told you something about how he was trying to take a step back, allowing more responsibility on his trusting employees to head the company while he took a step back and managed everything as a whole from a distance—less involved, more time at home around Sarah, it was a win win situation.

With both of you working toward similar degrees, it was helpful and convenient to share notes and study as often as you could, especially as your final term papers were nearing and looming like a dark cloud.

It’s an unsuspecting Thursday night when you and Sarah are pausing the heavy studying to cook a quick dinner when Joel walks into the kitchen, approaching the island and nearly tilting your entire existence on this earth on an axis. Your breath catches briefly, eyes dragging over his figure. You’ve seen pictures—family vacations that Sarah has shown you when they were flying across the country over summer breaks and you were stuck at home. 

But, nothing compared to the real thing.

His hair is grown out, curling around his ears. A warm, soft brown that is styled and shaped so perfectly it seems unreal—but the loose curl that falls over his forehead gives it away. There’s a deep cut in his silk-pressed shirt that hangs loosely on his frame, some abstract pattern that shouldn’t work as well as it does on him, but his tan skin compliments the deep tones and varying designs. The faint dusting of chest hair is obscured by the chains that hang in the space the silk-button up creates where he lacks the ability to fasten them, or rather chooses not to.

And you try not to let your gaze linger on the cut of his jeans as they cling snug to his legs, cuffed at the ankles and showcasing a pair of—what you can only suspect are new loafers. A dark chocolate brown accented with a gold metal piece along the center to complement his jewelry around his neck and the few rings placed meticulously on his fingers.

It’s no secret his ring finger sits untouched, lacking the heavy weight of a significant other's mark. Sarah mentioned her mom dying young, much like your own—maybe that’s why you two bonded so easily. 

“Got enough for your old man?” Joel questions curiously, tapping away at his phone meticulously before pocketing it, eyebrows raised in question.

“You hate boxed mac and cheese,” Sarah argues flippantly, flicking the empty box at her father across the counter, “so no, I don’t.”

“No, babygirl—I just hate the powder kind.” He flicks it back just as easily and you note how easy their relationship feels, like this is how things should be. 

Sarah laughs, scrunching her nose up in amusement. “Charming, isn’t he?”

Oh—she’s talking to you? You look at her for half a second, confused, before you’re quickly nodding in agreement without fully listening to what she had asked.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to lie.” She assures, stirring the noodles in the pot over the stove.

Your gaze lingers selfishly, catching the faint twitch of a smile on Joel’s face as he catches you looking. It’s nothing more than a friendly smile, comforting rather than disarming. 

“You know—Sarah never brings her friends around.” Joel starts begrudgingly, eyeing Sarah down before switching to you, “Seein’ as I’ve been hearing all about you for years now and I’m just now meetin’ you in the flesh.”

“Dad, stop scaring her.” Sarah gripes, searching around haphazardly for a couple of bowls, “seriously—just ignore him. He doesn’t know how to act now that he’s home more.”

Joel rolls his eyes dismissively, extending his hand in a kind gesture. You grab it hesitantly and he senses it, pointer finger dragging along the underside of your palm as he holds it delicately and bows his head.

“She’s just mad she can’t get rid of me now,” Joel tells you softly, nodding toward Sarah over your shoulder, “how’s the studying goin’?”

He doesn’t let go of your hand immediately and you don’t try to escape either, allowing the brief moment of lingering contact before you slip it away, shoving your hands into your back pockets.

“Fine.” Sarah’s response is clipped.

It’s stressful, if you’re being honest. But, you could see that Sarah didn’t want to relay that to her father, side-eyeing you wearily. 

It’s the first of many interactions that led to the tiny crush you began to have for Joel Miller. Your once a week studies eventually turn into two or three times a week, desperate to spend as much time away from your own home situation as possible.

Eventually, it’s nearly an everyday thing. You and Sarah would finish your day of classes and drive the short distance to her house and spend most of the night studying. Gradually, you were introduced into their own routine. At first, Joel would offer to buy dinner and leave things be, allowing you the space you needed. But, it eventually delves into weekly dinners and sitting down as if you were a part of this pseudo-family situation you’ve interjected yourself into.

Sarah knew you didn’t like it at home, so it was never a problem. Joel caught on after a few weeks—noticing how you avoided any questions about yourself, your family, anything that would allow him any glimpse into who you were outside what Sarah had told him, which wasn’t much at all. He’s trying to make you feel welcomed and you can appreciate that.

You’ve offered to help pay for meals on multiple occasions, but it never works. Quickly thwarted off by Joel’s extended hand as he shoves your cash away, assuring you that it wasn’t your responsibility. This was his house, his gesture, and he didn’t want you to think you owed him anything.

Yet, something in you yearned to do so. 

You wanted him to know just how grateful you were.

-

His curiosity about you comes to a head on a night after a few beers with friends, poker table trashed and the kitchen a mess. You were bringing down the trash from Sarah’s room, the shared dinner you two had had as a treat for your first day without studying—it was relaxing, mostly because your day had been spent here rather than home.

Joel gathers a few bottles in his large palm, slipping the lips of the bottle through spread fingers. “You two enjoyin’ yourselves?” He asks, looking at you casually. It was a question you’ve heard often, a simple conversation starter. And talking to Joel was much easier now.

You nod, lips pulled into a tight smile. “Yes, Mr. Miller.”

“C’mon now,” Joel jests, dropping the bottles into the trash, “none of that—it’s Joel. Shit makes me feel old, darlin’.”

The nickname wasn’t new either. He often called Sarah by her name or babygirl. 

Darlin’ though, it was all you.

He takes the dirty plates from your hands and places them in the sink, palm extended against the ledge of the counter while he rests his other hand against his hip.

“How are you doin’?” He asks, voice softer but still gruff. “Not that you have to tell me, I just want to make sure you’re feelin’ comfortable here.”

“I’m okay,” You say through an unsure smile that Joel notes but doesn’t press on, “it’s just easier to study here—I’m sorry if I spend too much time around here. Feels like you should be charging me rent by now.”

“Not a chance in hell, darlin’.” Joel grins, shiny white teeth showing behind his smile. The small bit of his shirt that was tucked in came loose by the rub of his fingers at his hip and drawing your eyes to the skin briefly, “you’re always welcome here.”

And you hate the way you crave even an inkling of physical contact from him. A pat on the shoulder, a hug, a fucking kiss on the forehead. You weren’t his daughter, you didn’t want to be. But, there was something about Joel that you couldn’t pull away from, trying your best to keep it at bay.

“You know what,” Joel says suddenly, pulling your lingering gaze back on his face, feeling guilty as you chewed on your bottom lip, “why don’t you come on vacation with Sarah and I next month?’

“Mr—Joel, that’s—” You’re quickly silenced by his hand actually pressing against your shoulder now—and fuck, when had he gotten so close?

“Sarah was thinkin’ about asking you anyways. We’re gonna take a trip to the Keys,” He rubs gently at the junction in your shoulder, the thick expanse of his thumb pressed against bare skin, “—just consider it, alright? Lord knows you both need a break as much as I do.”

The thing about Joel is that he was such a good father, something you haven’t been privy to in the couple decades and some few years you’ve been alive. You want to feel jealous and angry, spiteful that this was something you couldn’t have naturally. But, it feels nothing like that.

The crush you had on Joel was dangerous. But, that was all it was. A craving to be around Joel, to seek his approval and gain his trust. And bask in the care he provides. A simple case of daddy issues that you couldn’t admit to yourself was actually happening.

You shouldn’t entertain the idea.

 You shouldn’t even consider it. 

“Oh—okay. Yeah, as long as Sarah is alright with that.” You nod, a genuine, soft smile stretching across your face. Joel squeezes your shoulder tighter and you swear you feel it moving in closer, like he wants to hold you closer, cradle you in his hands. But, then the touch is gone and his fingers are running through his hair, curls separating through his fingertips.

“Alright then.” Joel says triumphantly, “You gonna be okay gettin’ home tonight?”

Sarah was driving you home soon, like usual. You nod.

“Good,” Joel nods, “Goodnight, darlin’.”

“Goodnight, Joel.” You say sweetly, patting your hand against the countertop softly, unable to spare a look his way as you walk in the opposite direction.

But, he can’t help his own fleeting and inappropriate thoughts, eyes dragging along your figure as you walk away, hands gripping the countertop like a vice, internally kicking himself how indecent he was allowing himself to think about you. Still, it didn’t stop the thoughts from flooding in and if he found himself spread out on his sheets that night, cock held tight in his hands as he fucked himself into his fist—well, he could repent for it some other time.

-

You touch down in the early morning on a Sunday, still riddled with anxiety from the plane ride. Joel had tried his best to accommodate, even buying first class tickets despite his usual tendency to go business. He didn’t care much for amenities but he wanted to treat Sarah and you, making you feel guilty with how quickly your face lit up at the sight. Spacious seats stocked with gifts and snacks, a tiny television molded into the area, it felt like too much. 

It was. But, Joel assured you it wasn’t.

There was little planned for the week you had to spend there and you had tried to scrounge up a little cash within the month you had to save, picking up a few extra shifts at your job and stowing it away for this—hoping you could treat yourself to something, anything. Even if it was just a stupid tourist shirt that cost an egregious amount of money.

Joel quickly snuffs out that idea, putting his foot down as he assured you that this trip was a treat. Not just for himself, but for all of you. You never asked how much money the Miller’s had, but it was clearly more than you could ever fathom to be imaginable. He yanks the black Amex from his wallet and hands it off to every waiting server and store owner you three come across.

It’s abundantly clear that they don’t worry about money in the sense that you do—it wasn’t unwelcomed, but it was an adjustment that took a couple days to get over, feeling shame for enjoying it. He’d paid for the plane fare, booked the hotels and the activities you had planned, made sure meals were paid for and then some, even allowing you and Sarah some spending money to go shopping for clothes or whatever you needed. 

He didn’t ask, it didn’t matter. He just wanted you to feel welcomed. Like family…or something.

The trip is fairly harmless fun, a few swimming activities that tire you all out and lend to an early turn in on a couple nights, dinners that lended you to learn a lot more about Joel. Still, as much as Joel tried, you weren’t as open. Vague answers, sidewaying the conversation. He didn’t try to pry, though. And you were thankful for that.

But, with fairly harmless came a few instances that didn’t feel so.

The first comes in the deep end of the ocean, floating on a shared longboard in the midst of the calm waves, humid heat sticking to your skin. Fingers fiddling with the loosening tie around the back of your neck as Sarah wades off to the shore for a brief minute to reapply sunscreen. And maybe you shouldn’t have asked, but you see the lingering look Joel gives you, fingers curling subtly against the edge of the board.

“Can you help me?” You ask, slowly edging around the board until you’re beside him, turning before he has the opportunity to answer. “It’s hard to get it tight on my own.”

Joel clears his throat and offers a smile, “‘Course, chin down for me?” And you follow his lead, feeling his fingers brush against your neck and guide your head down, untying the loose not completely and feeling your swim top go slack, covered by the safety of the water and your back turned to him, but it doesn’t stop the touch of his fingertips against your skin as he ties the knot and tugs slightly, assuring that it was secure to his liking. You lift your head slowly when you feel his palm press flat against your back, fingers curling around the point where your shoulder meets your neck.

“Thanks, Joel.” You turn your head over your shoulder to look back at him, earning a small nod as his touch lingers, only loosening when you rescue your grip on the longboard in front of you.

“Enjoyin’ yourself so far?” He asks, always able to ease into steady conversation without missing a beat. “Any complaints?”

“Definitely,” You smile wide, huffing soft laugh through your nose as you shake your head, “I guess I do have one complaint, actually.” You tell him honestly, a subtle nervousness to your voice. 

“Well, I’m all ears, darlin’.” He responds, leaning his elbow onto the board as it bobbed slightly.

“I just…you don’t have to pay for everything, Joel.” You find yourself rushing out the words, hoping that it wouldn’t cause an adverse reaction, but instead, Joel smiles wider.

“Look, I invited you on this trip,” Joel explains, “and that means you aren’t paying for a damn thing. Alright?”

You nod meekly, quieting down as Sarah waded back into the ocean toward you both.

With Joel, it was something you would have to learn to accept.

You try to ignore the lingering touch of his fingertips on your neck, but now it feels like a burn in your skin that would only get worse as time went on.

The second instance isn’t as much of a thing, rather than a moment.

Eyeing a sundress that resembled some of the similar outrageous patterning that Joel wore, shapes and blobs morphed around the material yet somehow managing to look chicer than anything you’ve ever come across, strappy and long and deep cut down the center. It wasn’t for modesty, you could assume that much. You run your fingers along the creases and stitching in the fabric, admiring it as you flipped the tag in your hand, immediately gawking at the price.

Joel had been lingering by, browsing the various knick knacks and souvenirs lining the shelves off the small store—all hand-made pieces that he could appreciate, but didn’t find any use for himself. And he’s watching you, has been for a while, noticing the way your eyes kept flicking back toward the dress despite your path around the store.

Joel casually follows the same path, taking a subtle peek at the tag. It was a few hundred dollars, but given the silkiness of the material and him being very familiar with the tone of pricing around the area, it wasn’t an outrageous ask. He slips the dress off the rack, careful as he removes it off the hanger and finds you separated from Sarah as you peruse down a wall of jewelry—some cheap and some not, looking around with no real want, just admiring.

He slips the dress into your hands, rough, overworked palms cupping your own as he makes you physically wrap your fingers around and claim the garment, chest to your back as he speaks, lips a hair's breadth away from your ear.

“It’s a pretty dress,” Joel says calmly, much calmer than your rapidly beating heart and the sudden uptick in your breathing, silk material spread out over your fingertips, “shame for it to go to waste, darlin’.”

“It’s expensive.” You argue, voice soft as he locks eyes with you in the mirror nestled in the nearest corner, “It’s nice to want things Joel, but I don’t need it.”

“I dunno,” He responds, unconvinced, “and—maybe I’m speaking out of turn but I think it’d look great on you.”

And you’ve never been more thankful of Sarah’s obliviousness to certain things, so wrapped up in her own shopping across the store that you two remained unsuspecting, eyes still locked on one another through the shared mirror.

He can see the way your body twitches at the comment, responds, but what he doesn’t understand is how it makes your cunt throb, solid body pressed against your back as he squeezes the backside of your hands with his palm. The willingness of contact was still fresh and new but it never made you feel unsafe—in fact, it had the opposite effect entirely.

Joel speaks again, directly to you in the mirror.

“I might just have to buy it for you, darlin’.” He says quietly, “You alright with that?”

You hesitate for a moment, but nod shakily. “Thank you, Joel.”

“Don’t need to keep thankin’ me.” Joel assures, “I know it’s implied.”

But, the instance that had you reeling for days after, still replaying it vividly in your mind, was a night near the end of your trip. Sarah had long gone to bed and you, riddled by insomnia, find yourself at the hallway vending machine, looking for a snack to cure your growing hunger.

Though, it seemed that Joel had the same idea—fork halfway into his mouth as he turned the corner, a sizable piece of chocolate cake inside of a small to-go tray, looking even guiltier as he caught sight of you, feeling like he really didn’t want to get caught like this. It makes you laugh into the palm of your hand. Joel is acting like the kid that got sneaking cookies in the middle of the night, still not hesitating to lick the fork clean as he tucked it away in the styrofoam box.

“Don’t tell Sarah,” He swears you to secrecy, “she’s already on my ass enough about my sugar intake.”

“You’ve got a sweet tooth,” You shrug, “nothing wrong with that.”

“What about you, huh?” Joel’s eyebrows raise in question, watching as you peruse the various snacks but not finding anything particularly appetizing. “Late night snack?” 

“Somethin’ like that.” You chew at your bottom lip, feeling that this was useless.

“Wanna share it?” Joel asks suddenly, pulling your attention to him immediately. “That way I feel a little less guilty about it.”

“Oh—and then bring me down with you?” You tease lightly, “Of course.”

It’s how you end up in Joel’s room that night, no other intentions than to share that stupid piece of cake, lacking a fork so you trade off for a few bites until it slowly delves into you both feeding each other as you talk, one of you hogging the fork more than the other. You curled up in one chair and Joel relaxed out in the other, styrofoam box held to his chest and forcing you to lean closer to assure you didn’t drop crumbs everywhere.

Maybe it should feel weird, but it doesn’t. 

“You know—if there’s anything you do need—” Joel begins after a while, meaningless conversation having died out.

“I know—Sarah tells me all the time. I just have to ask.” It feels pointless, rehashing things again. But, Joel feels the need to reassure and comfort. It didn’t help that he was finding himself, at his age, attracted to you in such a depraved way. “I will—if I do, I mean.”

It’s forbidden territory he couldn’t cross. But realistically, that only made him want you more. 

Joel feeds you a slow bite, lips catching over the fork but smearing a copious amount of chocolate frosting on your chin. Before you have the thought process to wipe it away Joel is already there, leaning forward in his chair as he uses his pointer finger to clean you up, eyes following his movements carefully after the first initiation of touch. 

Your breath catches in your throat, expecting him to use his own mouth to disallow wasting the frosting, but instead he raises it to your mouth in a split decision, his eyes dilating slightly under your shy gaze. Your lips press against the side of his finger in a gentle kiss that quickly spreads, taking the full length of his finger into your mouth as you lick away the excess frosting, feeling the pulse of desire in your belly as it grew, knowing that if Joel wanted to keep you there he could, locked under his gaze with his fingers stuffed into your mouth and you’d let him.

It was despicable. Inappropriate and wrong. But, you couldn’t help how badly your body wanted him, despite your brain telling all of this was a horrible decision.

You pull your mouth away with a soft pop, watching as Joel curl’s his hands into tight fists as he pulls them back to his side lazily, seeming more tense now.

“I should go.” You say softly, terrified to disturb this moment and the tension that blanketed it.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea, darlin’.” Joel says reluctantly.

Things only get worse from then on—and maybe worse is a strong word. But, it soon turns into a game that neither of you can stop, waiting until one of you finally makes the wrong move.

-

A few weeks later and your laptop takes the shit on a random Tuesday, head buried in your hands as Sarah tries to console you, but it isn’t much use. You knew it was a stretch to think the laptop could last you through the entire semester, and with just a few short months left, it couldn’t be worse timing. 

Joel walks in at your inconvenience, keys jingling in his hands as he slips off his leather peacoat, glancing at Sarah who didn’t give him much to go off of. He folds the jacket over the back of an empty dining chair and rests his hands against the top of it, eyes scanning over the both of you at the table, one looking a little more distraught than the other.

“Everything alright?” He asks curiously, earning a subtle head shake from Sarah. He clears his throat, “Or—uh, well, how is the studying going? Feel like that’s all you two do.”

You rub a frustrated hand over your face and sigh, “I’m gonna see if I can get a ride home or something,” You tell Sarah, sliding your phone off of the table, “I’ll deal with this later.”

Joel and Sarah share a quick look of communication, her hand waving toward you sharply, forcing Joel to speak up before you make another rash decision and spend money on a long ride home when had the perfect opportunity standing right in front of you. 

“I can give you a ride home.” Joel offers, much to your surprise. 

You’ve been alone with Joel a lot now, though inadvertently.

Sarah would sneak away in her room for longer stretches of time just to call her boyfriend—which wasn’t a bad thing, but it felt odd when Joel would come home and there was no one to greet him but you. Still, you stretched your lips into a smile and welcomed him sweetly. 

Even if this was his home.

Or times when you just happened to cross each other's path, even in such a large space. Sometimes the front porch when you were taking a break to stretch your legs, his watchful gaze dragging along your figure as he sipped on a hot cup of coffee in the evening, foot stabilized on the deck as he rocked in the wooden swing he sat on, crickets chirping loudly as the sun set.

Or just a simple trip to the bathroom, his bedroom across the hall and a couple doors down, often shut, but there were moments when you opened the doors, nearly face to face, and neither of you could look away. Joel would clear his throat, excuse himself, and kindly gesture for you to walk first. It happened often, too often—but neither of you addressed it. Instead, the tension grew. And grew. Until it felt like poking a sleeping bear. So it hibernated in both of you quietly.

Part of you expected things to change, that the small moment shared in his hotel room would make things hard to navigate, but if anything—it’s easier.

“Okay.” You agree easily, not having the proper energy to fight him over it.

The ride is quiet for the most part and Joel doesn’t need the step by step directions as he knows this town like the back of his hand, but he makes a wrong turn somewhere between his house and yours and you don’t feel like something is wrong, but it definitely feels off.

“Joel, you missed the last left.” You speak up as he continues down the road, glancing around leisurely as you soon delve onto a main street, lined with several shops. “Joel—”

“I’m gonna make a quick stop,” Joel attempts to ease your worries, fingers tapping against the gear shift positioned in the center console, “if you don’t mind.”

The moment he pulls into the parking lot of the electronic store, you know. You can see it in his eyes as he squints, checking that the store is still open and pulls into a parking spot near the front of the store.

“Joel, no—” You grab his wrist suddenly, his free hand reaching for the door handle and he looks down, eyes connecting where your skin touched before slowly flicking up to you, “look—just, I don’t need you to buy me a new fuckin’ laptop. I can handle it.”

Joel’s shoulders shrug in his obnoxiously patterned shirt, like he’s working out a kink in his neck as he repositions himself in the seat but doesn’t pull away from you. In fact, his hand gradually pulls toward your knee, fingers squeezing around your kneecap comfortingly.

“Considering it a loan then?” Joel tries to bargain, “Let me help you out now so you won’t have to worry about it and you can pay me back as you get the money? I see how often Sarah uses her laptop, it doesn't make sense for you to go without when I can help.”

You chew on your bottom lip thoughtfully, staring intensely back at him. You could put your foot down and deny his offer, but the idea of suffering through the rest of the semster without your sole life line to surviving through college—well, that was actually torture.

“I’m paying back every single penny.” You tell him forthright, waiting until he nods in agreement.

“Sounds like a deal to me.” Joel responds.

Joel spares no expense, which doesn’t come as a surprise. He buys you the highest, top notch laptop they have to offer—and even as you stare daggers into the side of his face, there’s an inkling in your mind that tells you he isn’t going to allow you to hold up your end of the deal.

-

Joel liked to party too—not giant parties that felt overwhelming and unwelcoming. But, he did have a close group of older male friends that he liked to play poker with on the back deck of the Miller household.

Sarah learned to block it out early on, knowing that at some point things would get just a little too loud and not as easy to ignore. But, Joel never made you feel out of place within any of these instances. You were welcome here all the time and Joel was clear about that.

He’s showered you with gifts and accommodation and you hate the way it makes you feel special, wanted—beyond the night in his hotel room it was only innocent glances. It felt like you were misreading things, making something out of nothing.

Things aren’t great at home and you like it here—love it, even. And you feel your mind nagging away to make a stupid, spur of the moment decision. You could ignore it, but then your eyes catch Joel’s through the slight crack in the door, trapping you in his gaze like you’ve been caught doing something wrong.

He squints slightly, lips curling around his beet bottle as he takes a long swig, fist uncurling against his jeans as he rubs out his palm and smiles—he has you hooked in so fucking easy it feels pathetic.

This is wrong. You inhale a shaky breath and turn away, busying yourself with literally anything else—a scuff on the table, the chipped nail polish on your fingernails, something.

Eventually his friends filter out—and Sarah had invited you to stay over the night barring that it was the weekend and she enjoyed your presence just as much as you did hers—if only she could understand the now huge, harboring crush you had on her father. It was harmless, but it felt like a betrayal. 

And the feeling only increased as the night creeped along, your burdening insomnia keeping you awake, shifting and turning in the sheets beside her as you tried and failed miserably to fall asleep.

It was quiet out here, less commotion from the city. It was eerie, in a way. 

You slip out of the bed quietly, walking barefoot on the hardwood as you tiptoed until you were outside of her room, closing the door behind you. You weren’t hungry, so you didn’t bother with the kitchen, rather heading toward the front door that was already halfway open.

Part of you expected Joel to be sitting on the porch, no real rhyme or reason. But, even he is out of sight. The soft, well-kept grass welcomes the press of your feet as you wander outside slowly, the hug of the warm spring air on your skin even this late at night. You catch one of the Miller’s horses hanging out around the edge of their enclosure, wondering if they managed to nudge their way out of their stable. You approach slowly, still not as accustomed to them as you’d like to be. 

But, they were friendly. So, you raised a careful hand and rubbed gently at the horse’s mane, smiling at the soft huff it offered in return, leaning its snout over the fence more.

“Sunshine is always friendly,” Joel says from somewhere you don’t see, startling you out of your body as you jump, whipping your head around to look for him, eventually landing on his approaching form as he left the barn that held the stables, “—sneaky little gal, though.”

You laugh softly, finding it hard to believe that such a sweet horse was capable of escaping.

Joel whistles softly, beckoning her toward him. “Come on.” He nods, silently asking you to join him. You follow eagerly, watching as he unlocks the entrance to the fence for you to slip through, locking it behind you as you pass the threshold, catching up with Joel in a few steps.

“Don’t sleep well, do you?” He asks, heading turned over his shoulder briefly to look at you. You nod quietly, leisurely approaching Sunshine’s stable and watching as Joel locks her back up, rattling the gate for safety this time, ensuring it was secure. “Seems we have a few things in common.”

Joel stays quiet for a moment—in his own head, a deep moment of contemplation, carrying and safeguarding these thoughts he knows he shouldn’t have, wondering how your skin would feel against his palm, how the pulse of your heart would feel as he pressed his hand to the center of your chest and kissed you, full tongue and consumed your essence, this unignorable aura you had around you.

He feels sick, distraught. But, he can’t force himself to avoid you either.

“There’s somethin’ that usually helps me,” Joel tells you, hand pressed wordlessly against the center of your back as he guides you out of the barn and locks it up as well, “just goin’ somewhere quiet—lot of the time it’s just my thoughts keepin’ me awake.”

God, if only he knew.

He did, but that wasn’t the point.

Joel quiets for a moment, stuffing the ring of keys into his pocket as he glances over at the house briefly.

“You wanna go for a quick drive?” Joel asks suddenly, forcing it out before he can find a reason to stop himself.

“As long as it doesn’t end with you buying me another laptop, sure.” You chide deviously, watching the smirk grown on Joel’s face, knowing he still hasn’t taken a dollar from you.

And vehemently refuses every time you offer.

Joel drives you the path further into the land of property he owns, most of it still unexplored by you, eventually finding a clearing near the east edge, right on the edge of a body of water and a dock nestled near the shore. There’s a small boat tied to a post, big enough for a few people.

Under this light, as you exit the truck, Joel looks different.

He’s free of the weight of jewelry he wore, comfortable in his worn shirt and soft cotton shorts. For a while, Joel had been such an enigma that you weren’t sure what to make of him. Sure, he was just Sarah’s dad—but he was also Joel Miller, backbone of the town. His face was plastered everywhere. There wasn’t a single street you could traverse down that didn’t have him nestled away somewhere.

He spots a small mud puddle under your feet as he rounds the truck and quickly catches you before your feet get stuck, hands locked in yours as you jump over the small patch of wet dirt.

You let out an exasperated sigh as you look up at him, silently thanking him with your eyes.

“Can you swim?” He asks casually.

“Yeah…” You respond hesitantly, eyes locked onto the boat several feet away.

Joel releases your hands, but it doesn't matter. His touch still lingered painfully and you want nothing more than to pull him back in. But, now Joel is asking to go on a midnight boat ride with you and—really, how could you turn that down?

-

Joel rows you toward the center of the lake, your eyes locked onto the mesmerizing sight of the stars in the sky, so much clearer out here and away from the city.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Joel asks, not bothering to look his way.

You smile slightly, leaning back onto the palms of your hands.

“Yeah, it really is.” You miss the way Joel’s gaze lingers, admiring you.

“Now—sometimes I just come out here and talk to nothin’,” Joel explains when the boat comes to a full stop and he rests the oars inside the boat, knees spread as he resting his elbows on them, “then other times I just sit and enjoy the quiet.”

Your choice—that’s what he’s implying. 

You clear your throat softly, finally changing a glance his way.

“I just—I don’t wanna say I’m jealous of what you have here,” You say quietly, “but, it really is a bitter reminder of without Sarah or you, I’d have next to nothing.”

Joel stays quiet, allowing you to marinate in thought and figure out how to convey how you were feeling.

“And—I don’t know. Selfishly, I like it.” Liked him. “But, I don’t want to rely on it and you make that a little impossible. I do have money, Joel. I can pay for things. I just don’t want you feeling like you have to do any of this out of necessity.”

“I’m not,” Joel admits, “Now—what makes you think that, darlin’?”

“I just—I don’t want anyone thinking I need to be fixed, I don’t.” You tell him, “I don’t need charity, either.”

Joel waves his fingers in a come closer motion, taking your slowly extending hands in his own, thumbs rubbing over soft skin tenderly, boring his eyes into your own.

“I’m gonna tell you this once and I need you to listen,” Joel says softly, but his voice feels so loud in the silence of the night, breeze hitting your skin and sending a sharp chill up your spine—but, you’re not how much of mother nature is responsible for that, “really listen, alright?”

You nod slowly, blinking a few times as you feel yourself shrink under his gaze.

“What I give you isn’t charity,” Joel tells you seriously, “and—maybe this is crossing a boundary I shouldn’t but, you’re somethin’ close to family. I take care of people I care about.”

Not family—he couldn’t conitate that with the feelings and thoughts he was having toward you.

“Close to family?” He was praying you wouldn’t harp on it, but you needed to confirm the underlying layer of tension that lingered between you two all the time. It was driving you insane, keeping you late into the night—he was the reason for your insomnia.

Joel smirks slightly, covering it with a quiet chuckle. His hand gradually cradles your face, rubbing along your cheek with a delicate touch, “I think you know, darlin’.”

God, he hoped you did. His thumb dragging along your plush bottom lip, eyes lingering for a brief moment before he pulls away, immediately missing his touch as he reigns himself to the idea that he may have crossed a line, quietly rowing the way back toward the dock.

Neither of you get much sleep that night anyways.

-

More time passes, lingering touches grow, and Joel is terrible at hiding his affinity for you now. Finding that those few words burned all regards he had toward keeping himself restrained around you. He had enough of a mind to keep it private—but there were comments, sweet little words that he’d whisper as you walked by or he caught you alone.

Nothing scandalizing, but just enough that it had your heart fluttering in your chest.

 Until there is a small slip up, helping the Miller’s with dinner one night as Sarah escapes to the bathroom for a brief moment, your arms outstretched into the cabinet to grab for something just out of reach.

“Use the stool, darlin’,” Joel sees your struggle, “safer that way.”

You look around observantly before you find a folded up stool tucked into the only open corner in the kitchen, taking it back to your spot and unfolding it.

“Good girl.” Joel comments quietly, catching the startled look on your face as your head snaps back toward him. And he has the nerve to smile, noticing the hitch in your breath.

And it only grows in intensity until you can’t stand it anymore, cornering him in the kitchen on a night where Sarah is already upstairs gathering herself for bed, thinking you had come down for a couple bottles of water.

Joel is nursing a small glass of whiskey and he’s silent, but his gaze tracks your movement. You move toward him.

There is a belief in you, fully realized, that something is up here.

"Joel," You lick your lips hesitantly, squaring yourself up against the counter, standing straight, trying not to seem like you were teetering near a dangerous edge of delirium, wondering if you were imagining all of this, "can I ask you something?"

There's a severe lack of distance between you two, knees knocking against each other gently from where you both stand, eyes searching out cautiously even though you know there's nothing to worry about. You were alone, something that has happened far too many times over the past few months. Lingering moments of wandering gazes, eyes connecting from across the room even if Joel was surrounded by people, partying with friends while you're tucked away in the corner while Sarah talks to you about the boys at school that you can't be bothered to give the time of day.

Because of Joel. Because your mind is so tainted by the idea of him.

His palm is flattened out against the counter, adorned with a couple golden rings that clack against the marble, gold chains to match that sat perfectly against his chest, framing the small patch of hair that peeked out over his unbuttoned shirt, silk-pressed and adorned in a silly design that somehow always managed to work perfectly with whatever Joel paired it with.

"Course," He assures you, "You need somethin'? 'Cause you know if things aren't alright at home you're welcome to stay with us."

He’s not amiss to notice just how much time you spend here and no one bothers to come around and check on you. Given you were an adult, it was still glaringly obvious you escaped here for a reason.

Joel reaches out to touch your cheek, the warmth of his skin melding with your own as your breath catches in your throat.

Touch wasn't new, but it never got old. Like a brand against your skin that screamed out for more. You look down briefly, mouth opening slightly to say something, but quickly resigns back to its previous position, lips pursed under a soft scowl.

"I can take care of you," Joel reminds, like you could ever fucking forget it, written all over your features and the outfits you wore now, the dainty gold chain that he'd leant to you as a gift when you pointed out how much you liked it—he'd bought it for himself but there was no resistance in offering over it over to you, bright smile stretching across your face in the moment that Joel felt a sickening addiction to, "—if that's what you need, sweetheart."

You nod instinctively, though you’re not sure what you’re answering too.

“We’ve got a spare room,” Your bottom lip pulls between your teeth, the huskiness to his voice shouldn’t feel intimate speaking such meaningless words, “plenty of room for you, alright?”

“Mhm,” You answer weakly, feeling the distance start to close as Joel tries—really fucking tries to fight it, but he can’t help the way his eyes track the way your body responds to his teach, lip trembling when you release it from it’s hold between your teeth, “thank you, Joel.”

“For?” Your heart is racing, terrified of being caught but also enticed by how openly Joel is admiring you, eyes wide with adoration and curiousness, something undiscovered and new to him.

“Taking care of me.” You echo his words, but you’re both quickly retching away at the sound of a door creaking upstairs, separating in an instant.

This was all you had—fleeting moments that would never be.

-

The logistics are complicated to figure out at first, but finishing up the last few weeks of schooling away from the stress of being at home and somewhere where you could actually focus outside of school made the most sense. You pack a big enough bag to last you through the month, clothes and personal belongings you care about, and make the small guest room your new home.

At least, as much as you could.

Luckily, your final classes are a breeze—thankful that most of your discipline with studying had paid off, you and Sarah would graduate in another couple weeks and allow yourself a real break over the summer before deciding how you both wanted to continue. More schooling or not, you would handle that later—for now, you let your mind rest.

And Sarah, well, she escapes the first chance she gets—the first official day free of responsibilities she’s running off for a weekend vacation with her boyfriend, assuring she didn’t mind you tagging along if you wanted to come, but you could see it on her face—she wanted privacy.

So, you had no problem staying back.

A weekend alone—with Joel? Who could barely keep his eyes off of you know that you were around constantly, even in the early mornings when he’d walk through the kitchen shirtless and fumbling with the old coffee pot he refused to get rid of. It was a side to him you hadn’t seen much of and it was slowly etching itself into your memory.

Everything implodes the first night that Sarah is gone, unknowingly yet not unwelcome. But, it’s a turning point neither of you can come back from.

It’s undeniable the amount of boiling sexual tension that has stirred between you both between Joel’s heated gaze and scandalizing comments, stuff that he tries to hold in but fails when he sees how easily of an effect it has on you.

So, as luck would have it, your restless minds meet again.

Joel stops between his open bedroom door and the wall, watching as you approach quietly, smiling kindly as you reach for the door to the guest room, bidding him a soft goodnight.

He could spend his night writhing in bed, hand around his cock as he jerked himself to the thought of you a few feet over, nestled under your sheets—unbeknownst to him, relieving yourself in a similar way and yearning for the stretch of him rather than your measly fingers. It used to relieve the ache and help you sleep, but now it made things impossibly worse.

His fingers encircle your wrist quick, but carefully, silence your ultimate downfall as you stare over at him curiously, his eyes pleading something so desperate it roots itself into your own mind. Like an invisible string tethered to your bodies, it pulls you both together instinctively.

He doesn’t hesitate with touch now, slowly barricading his hands against the side of your neck, gradually working to cradle your head, tipping your head back as he leaned in, not willing himself to cross that line unless you allowed it. He knew the second you stepped over he was done for, similarly, you knew that to be true for yourself.

“Tell me to stop,” Joel begs, “—tell me and I’ll give this up.”

You double down, pressing your face against his own, nose pressing against each other, speaking against his lips in a venomous tone that seeps into his bloodstream.

“No,” You tell him, steadfast and unwavering, “I don’t think I will.”

Joel breathes in sharply before his reverence is breaking, pressing you up against the solidness of the guest room door and crashing his lips against your own, his grip bruising as he palms at your thighs, hooking a leg around his hip as he grinds into you, the feeling dulled out by layers of fabric but you can still feel him. He’s hard and straining against the soft fabric and making no attempt to hide how much you affected him.

“We’re makin’ a big mistake,” Joel says into your mouth, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth to prove his point, pulling a sharp moan from your chest at the slight sting, “you realize that?”

You find your courage and part from him briefly, open palm rubbing against the line of his cock, slowly trailing up and under his shirt, blunt nails clawing into the stomach, the muscle tensing under your skin, “I’m well aware—are you gonna stand here and have a moral dilemma about it or are you going to fuck me, Mr. Miller?”

It ignites a fury behind his eyes, ravenous and wild. He grips your face tightly, tilting your head up at a slightly uncomfortable angle, pussy clenching around absolutely nothing from the show of dominance, the grin spreading across your face all Joel needed to confirm his suspicions about you.

You enjoyed this—him, the little game you’ve allowed him to play over the past few weeks. And just as he’d said before, he wanted to take care of you—in as many ways possible.

“Say it again,” He warns, squeezing your cheeks together between his tight grip on your face, “—fuckin’ say it.”

“Mr. Miller,” You drone sweetly, best you can through his sturdy grip, “—hm, is that what you want to hear? Is that what gets off at night?”

Joel’s eyes squint slightly, attempting to read your expression. How would you know?

“Always want me to call you Joel because Mr. Miller is just too much, right?” You tease, “I guess you could lie to me, but the look on your face says otherwise.”

The back of your head drops softly against the door, nowhere to go as Joel has you crowded, hand tight on the doorknob and unmoving. You’re trapped and you can’t be bothered to care. 

His hand trails to your neck gradually and squeezes, eyes rolling into the back of your head briefly as his jaw clenches, teeth gritting together as he bares them and speaks, “Should’ve guessed you’d like it like this, huh?”

You feign cluelessness, eyes half-lidded and staring back defiantly, swallowing against the solid hand he held against your neck. 

“Tell me you want it,” Joel presses, feeling how mutely you attempt to press against hold and fail, “need to hear you say it first.”

“What? That I want you cock, Joel?” You say vivaciously, grinning at how his mouth twitches at your words, cooing out a soft, “Because I do.”

And that’s all the confession Joel needs before he’s breaking the barrier and shoving you inside the guest room, slamming the door closed behind him with a foot as he tracks and approaches you, hauling you from the back of your thighs as your ass hits the bed, scooting back slightly and spreading your legs to allow him to slot perfectly between them. 

The fabric of your shirt bunches in his hands as pushes it up and away, lips pressing hotly against your stomach, mouthing at the skin greedily, quickly forcing the shirt up your shoulders until you get the idea and rip the shirt over your head, bare breasts bouncing against the jostling of your body. Joel has half the mind to gawk before he’s latching his mouth around your nipple, biting gently at the flesh despite his choice to be more aggressive than you expected. It’s the right amount of too soft and too much, your fingers curling into his hair at the root and pulling, earning a soft groan in response.

His curls fall freely over his eyes from where he’s looking up at you, lips lingering against your breast tantalizingly, “Let me taste you.” He tells you, his fingers dancing along the hem of your bottoms, his body descending as you find yourself nodding absently, helping him in the impatient push and pull until he has you naked and bare before him, his cock straining prominently against the thin material of his pants, rubbing himself through the fabric as he uses his free hand to spread you wide, marveling at the sight of your slick over the lips of your cunt.

Joel settles against the sheets, broad shoulders supporting your thighs as he adjusts them over him and hovers closely of your cunt, waiting for your eyes to connect in a brief moment of confirmation

You wanted this. And so did he.

He remains wide-eyed as his lips connecting with your cunt, straight for your aching clit as he sucks, flicking his tongue over the sensitive spot with a precision that has you falling slack against the sheets, mouth open in a blissful agony as Joel works away at your pussy like he’s had a million years to study it, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as you continue to pull and twist at his hair, selfishly grinding yourself against his face. 

He never breaks his gaze on your face, even when you find yourself with your head thrown back, staring up at the ceiling mindlessly, admiring the hurried rise and fall of your chest as you moan out something intelligible, slowly beginning to make sense in his hazy mind, “Oh—right—right there, Joel. Fuck, please—” You beg sweetly, feeling weightless as he lowers his mouth to your neglected hole and licks inside, his nose pressing perfectly against your clit.

“C’mon, baby,” He murmurs against your pussy, “keep talkin’, let me hear you.”

You sigh in exasperation, feeling the burgeoning ache of your impending climax, “Faster—” Joel is an astute listener, never missing a beat as he picks up his pace and adds more pressure, “–shit, I’m gonna—”

Joel silences you with his eagerness to make you come, words falling flat as he assales your clit with a determination to have you coming against his mouth, feeling the muscles spasm as you crying out his name in desperation, orgasming over his greedy tongue as he laps you up synonymously, forcing your body into overstimulation until you have to physically force him away.

Joel doesn’t have half the mind to speak, eyes darkened to near black as he rises to remove his shirt, pants and underwear following quickly after, undressing under your hazy gaze as you try to calm your rapidly beating heart before he’s fisting himself tightly, tip of his cock rubbing against the line of your pussy and catching your entrance, using the last bit of restraint he had left.

He should be courteous and ask about protection—but there’s a heat behind your eyes when you see his thoughts wandering, quickly snuffing out any worries. You reach gently for the hand not fisting his cock, cradling your knee gently, “We’re safe.” You assure him, the first moment of deep, unsettling reality as he realizes the weight of his choices before him—he’s already committed a few atrocities he knows he can’t come back from, so, what was a few more?

And he couldn’t say no to you, not with you staring up at him so wantonly, eyes pleading something desperate and meek, curious if this was all just a heat of the moment thing. Partly, it was—but this was months upon months of built up tension finally spilling into reality.

Joel isn’t sweet either, as he presses inside you. It shouldn’t surprise you, his impatient nature as he pulls you in close, hands gripping under your thighs and manhandling you until your folded nearly in half, hips pistoning sharp and rough, his gaze locked on the sight of himself disappearing inside of you, the sheen of your slick over his cock as you suck him in greedily.

“Come on, baby,” He grunts roughly, “keep showin’ me how good I make you feel. Show me how grateful you are.”

As if it wasn’t already obvious, obscene noises, feeling the quiet air as you sob out, feeling the angle change as he shifts his knee by your ass, angling your hips up slightly.

“Thank—thank you,” You say softly, broken as he snaps his hips roughly, hitting something sensitive inside of you, the coiling heat in your stomach rebuilding quickly, “thankyouthankyouthankyou,” You ramble mindlessly.

Mesmerized, you watch his curls bounce freely over his forehead, overgrown hair sticking to his skin from the soft sheen of sweat, the muscles in his broad shoulders straining as he holds your legs prisoner in his grips, hips aching dully from the unusual angle but you ignore it. He’s locked onto your pussy for a long stretch of time, entranced until he hears your soft moans, realizing you’ve been admiring him this whole time, eyes locking on you in a moment of vulnerability as he speaks directly to you, hips slowing to a manageable, but still slightly overwhelming pace.

“Always—know how to appreciate things, isn’t that right?” Joel asks, the redundancy not lost on you, “Take everything I give you and never ask. Never greedy—just lettin’ me spoil you.”

“Joel—” You whine, his hand slowly trailing the path to your joined bodies, thumb circling slowly over your clit briefly, “—harder, fuck me—harder.”

“But, look at you now—so fuckin’ greedy for my cock,” He’s speaking through a slight groan, releasing the straining hold on your thighs as he falls, spreading his legs out and using his arms for support as he holds himself over you, hands fisting into the sheets beside your head, “gonna make me cum, baby.”

You find yourself desperate for touch now, wrapping your arms around his neck until he’s nearly chest to chest, forehead resting against your own as you whimper into his open mouth, “I want it.”

Joel makes a small noise of question, “Want what, baby?”

“Your cum,” You reply softly, watching the way his pupils dilate at your words, “—please?”

Joel groans involuntarily, feeling the dignified squeeze of your walls around his cock.

“Where?” He asks slightly breathless, panting into your mouth.

You reach blindly for his hand, using his pointer and middle finger to breach your lips, pressing flat against your tongue, “Right here.” You mumble around the thick digits.

It’s the first thing you’ve ever explicitly asked for and who was Joel to deny that.

Joel pulls out quickly, rising on his knees as you push up to rest on your palms, his head hung back as he fucks himself into his hand harshly, a few short pumps and he’s pressing the aching tip of his cock over your tongue, spilling into your mouth with a deep growl, forced through clenched teeth, working himself through the aftershock as he squeezes out the last bit of cum he has to offer into your waiting mouth, forcing your mouth closed with his opposite hand and watching as you tilted your neck up and swallowed, tongue peeking out playfully as you show him your empty mouth.

You have half the mind to think he’s finished, but instead he’s swatting your thigh as he maneuvers your hips until you realize he’s silently asking you to turn over, quickly situating your ass in the air with his strong, domineering grip—burying his face into your cunt without a moment of hesitation, a gasp ripping from your throat. Your hips pull away instinctively out of shock, earning a sharp slap by Joel’s hand against your oversensitive cunt.

“Stay still.” Joel demands.

You answer softly, a pathetic acknowledgement and nod, obeying his order.

“Good girl,” He coos, muffled against your cunt, “Come for me, baby—you’re right there, I can feel it.”

There’s little resistance as his tongue swipes over your clit, sending you into a shorter but immensely more consuming second orgasm, feeling yourself lose consciousness for a brief moment as you sob into the sheets.

“Fuck.” Joel sighs as he rests back on his calves, cock softening between his thighs as you roll onto your back gingerly, thighs shaking from strain, feeling Joel’s comforting touch on the aching muscles as you close your eyes, letting the reality of the situation set in. 

You laugh giddily, “Yeah, fuck.”

Neither of you address the glaring issue of what just took place and somehow, that feels like the biggest atrocity to be committed. 

-

Secrets weren’t something you used to harbor, but it seemed like that was all you had now.

Sneaking off with Joel, lying to Sarah—it was the last thing you wanted to do. But, you and Joel had each other in an equally debilitating grip that neither of you could loosen up on.

And with secrets came gifts, more and more outrageous as time went on—big ticket items that had you fearing that, at some point, Joel would drop something like a new car on you—and that, for what it was worth, would help you. But, it was nothing you wanted. 

Sex started to feel transactional after a few more weeks, graduation creeping on you.

Joel never lacked in care and attentiveness, but there was this nagging feeling in the back of your mind, like you were this unattainable prize he was paying for and you were eating right out of the palm of his hand.

But, then graduation day approaches and Joel is acting odd.

So odd that it unsettles you. He’s there, along with his brother and his small family, cheering as loud for you as he does for Sarah, the obvious absence from your own family never lost on you or him. Then, night approaches.

He’d decided that throwing a party for the both of you in celebration was a good idea, just a small party with very few friends and he swore—swore that there was nothing else up his sleeve until he’s pulling you and Sarah off together, away from the party and there is a pair of matching, new cars parked in the driveway.

Sarah, given she already has everything she wants, is still thankful. It’s the one thing she had been trying to save up for herself, without the help of her dad. So, while she could be upset, she isn’t. She knows Joel’s intentions are good and that he’s just trying to be a good father—which is all he’s ever been for her.

But, for you, it stings. 

You linger, settled a few feet away against his beater of a truck, staring at the car like it was an eyesore.

She doesn’t like it. She hates it, Joel thinks. 

You thanked him regardless, but refused the keys. Joel had stuffed them into his pocket and allowed you the space you wanted, eyes pleading quietly. Sarah had hugged you gently, kind words left in your ear before she departed back inside.

“You’re like family,” She says with genuine love, “and he has more money than he knows what to do with—so honestly, just take it. You deserve it more than anyone.”

And that hurts worse, knowing that you’ve been lying to her for months. 

You weren’t family. Not to Joel. You were something much more convoluted and dangerous.

A drug. A trap. Something he couldn’t rid himself of, not that he desired to. But, he knew—once you were embedded into his life, it would be nearly impossible to get you out.

–

Joel finds you a while later, away from the party and beyond eyesight from the house, curled up against the front end of the truck and picking away at some of the ripped denim of your jeans, counting the frayed pieces. He takes a similar position, sitting next to you silently.

“You don’t have to take it,” He tells you, “but, it is paid for—”

“Joel, please—”

“What?” Joel asks suddenly, his own annoyance getting the better of him, “What am I doing wrong?”

“Joel—we have sex, you buy me something ridiculous. Or, you buy me something ridiculous without my knowledge and then we end up having sex, how does that look to you?”

“Now, I’m not doing that because of sex—”

“But, you see how it looks? How it makes me feel?” You argue with him, “Joel, I can’t help how I feel about you, like—it feels physically impossible, but the constant gifts makes this seem transactional. I don’t want that. I’m already a secret, I don’t need to be bought either.”

Joel shakes his head in silent disbelief, “You really think that’s how I view you? That’s it?”

“You haven’t tried very hard to make me think otherwise, Joel.” You tell him honestly, “I don’t need you showering me with cars and clothes and shit that I don’t need—and if that’s what you feel like you need to do, I don’t want to do…whatever this is anymore.”

Fucking him, sneaking around in secret. You weren’t dating, but it sure fucking felt like it. One intimate moment from a love confession that would seal the deal on your perception of him.

Joel kicks at the gravel as he rises to his feet, pulling you up by your forearm, an immediate look of both confusion and frustration crossing your features as he turns you and presses your chest against the front of his truck, shadowed by the cover of night. His belt clanks together loudly as he undoes his jeans behind you, tucking them far down enough he can pull his cock from the confines of his underwear, lifting up the hem of your dress and yanking your own underwear down your legs and off, and you should stop him—but you don’t want to.

This was the problem. You couldn’t get enough of Joel. 

He slips inside of you with ease, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest that he stifles with his hand, clasped over your mouth, fucking into you with a reverance that was new.

“Joel—we’refuck—we can’t here,” You try to say, yanking his hand away from your mouth, “we’ll get caught.”

Joel grips the base of your neck roughly, fingers curling around the sides as he tilts your head back and looks into your eyes, other hand coming around the bottom of your chin until you’re forced to look up and back at him, not a single speck of warm brown in sight. He looked angry.

But, it didn’t feel like it was directed toward you. Regardless, he fucked you like he was.

“I’ll return the fuckin’ car,” He starts to ramble, “I’ll return everything if that makes you think differently. God—” He snaps his hips harshly, earning a broken sob from you as you reach behind you blindly for something to anchor yourself on, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt, “—never want you to think this is transactional, baby. It never—never was.”

Never would be, you want him to say.

“Whaddya want me to say?” Joel asks before you can speak, “That I care about you—baby, I fuckin’ do. I thought that was obvious. Know—know I shouldn’t, that it’s wrong, but I knew—”

You gasp raggedly, his hand leaving your chin to find your clit, just the right amount of pressure to have your hands clawing at his skin, head resting back against his shoulder as he fucked into you.

“And I’ll keep this a secret if—if it means I can have you but this isn’t transactional,” He continues to speak, despite your inability, tipping over the edge of your orgasm as his hips stutter slightly, “it never will be.”

That—that was what you needed to hear. Pulling him taut against you as he buried his mouth into the junction of your neck and nipped, biting at the skin roughly but not enough to break skin.

“Come inside me,” You gasp, chest rising and falling quickly, “please—Joel, please?”

“You like when I fuck you like this, don’t you?” Joel teases, “Never ask for anything but my cum—greedy girl,” You moan at his words, spurring him even further, “tell me baby, tell me how much you want it.”

“So bad,” You whine, “Joel, please give it to me—fuck—all of it, please?”

Joel snaps his hips a few more times before his hand is releasing your neck, crossing over your chest and squeezing tightly at your breast as he pulses inside of you, pumping his hips and filling you full of his spend.

Joel kisses at the exposed skin of your shoulder, pulling out with a soft grunt, the slow jingle of metal sounding behind you as you reached for the underwear he offered you, slipping it back up your legs and into place, despite how Joel’s cum dripped out of you, something he makes point of as his fingers drag along the material, causing you gasp softy at his touch, swatting his hand away. He chuckles lowly at the annoyed glare you shoot his way.

Joel shifts your hips until you turn in his grip, back pressing against cool metal. He crowds you in again, leaving you feeling breathless as he grips your face, but his touch is surprisingly tender.

“What do we say?” He says softly, lips pressing against your own.

“Thank you,” You retort sarcastically, capturing his lips in a quick, bruising kiss as you card your fingers into his hair at the base of his neck, pulling gently, “this doesn’t change anything—I don’t want the car.”

“You don’t have to take it,” Joel settles, “but it’ll be here if you need it.”

You pull away further, looking at him endearingly, watching as his eyes flick briefly toward the house.

“What do we do–about this?” You ask quietly, afraid someone might be listening in despite being alone, “About…whatever this is.”

“Hey,” Joel assures gently, “don’t worry about that—not tonight.”

“Joel—” You plead, eyes searching desperately into his own.

“I care about you, that’s all you need to worry about.” Joel speaks truthfully, his thumb rubbing along the line of your jaw as you swallow, muscles tense under his touch.

And you’re wondering if he’s just saying what you want to her—that maybe this was still a game to him and he was letting you feed into it, nodding to his confession. Joel is all in, offering you his metaphorical hand.

You sigh shakily, “Okay—I trust you.” So please, don’t let me down.

And you know things will eventually implode, but you intend to hold on the brief moment of hope you have now, safe under his gaze as he leads you back to the house, everyone blissfully unaware of the moments you’ve shared, leaving you resigned to appreciate the greedy looks his shares with you across the room.

It was a dangerous game, but you were willing to take the risks.

[neo-percs]

DEEP END:: ( park Sunghoon )

WARNING:: 80's au, summer fling, high school au, skinny dipping, rich boy! Sunghoon, smut, harsh language, descriptions of drowning and passing out, smoking (weed & cigarettes ) Angst, misunderstood situation, mutual pining, fluff, insults & accusations, mentions of vomiting, terrible parenting, trespassing, oral! (f&m receiving ), riding, handjob, masterbation (m) virgin! Sunghoon, poor! Reader, experienced! Reader, pool sex, y/n teaches sunghoon

SUMMARY::  after saving Sunghoon from drowning at the local pool; y/n offers to give him swimming lessons which leads into way more than expected.

WORD COUNT:: 36.6K

A/N:: this is a repost from my old account, the longest fic I’ve ever written and I refuse to make a part 2 since this took me half a year to write.

You were broke, while most girls at the ripe age of 19 would be living it up on the beach with booze they stole from their parents liquor cabinet; you were stuck on lifeguard patrol in the slums of the south side right next to an old run down diner scraping 5 dollars an hour for 5 days a week.

While girls your age could bat their lashes and easily get 100 bucks out of their fathers; you could barely be trusted with a sticky nickel and a paper clip. It's not that you hated the job, you just disliked the reason you had to work there.

The community pool is for mothers who are freshly divorced preying on boys who just graduated or even other womens husbands, snot nosed kids wanting a sense of freedom, and teenagers who just show up and stare down someone else they find attractive.

You only sigh and continue to look around the pool area. Your eyes catch a familiar face, Choi Yeonjun. He had already graduated and yet he was staying back with his friends for the summer before he's off to another semester of college in the fall, and boy was he a sight to see. Shirtless, hair wet and covering his forehead as his smirk tugged his lips as he watched his friend dunking each other's heads under water.

Lucky enough for you; your sunglasses shielded your eyes as you practically drool over the older boy, and it wasn't until you heard loud obnoxious laughs coming from a group of boys as they moved in a pack all near the edge of the pool. As they near the deep end.

As many of them rough house and find their way into the warm water of the pool one boy sat at the ledge only letting his feet dip into the water. Kicking his feet splashing the clear water as his eyes focus on the tiled flooring on the pool that reached almost 20 feet.

Sunghoon's heart pounded in his throat as he looked at the bottomless pit that was the community pool. And although Sunghoon lived nowhere near this part of town he still came with his friends because they rough house too much to go to the country club pool that his family liked to bring him and his sister to every year.

This year there were a few new additions to the group; Jake Sim had just moved into town from Australia, and Yang Jungwon and Nishimura Riki had been introduced to the group sometime last school year. Sunghoon had seemed to adjust to the new additions yet he guesses that they don't know much about his summer secret.

"Get in the pool Hoon, it's fucking hot" Jake says with a bright smile to his friend only to be brushed off with a shake of his head "I'm good, I think I just wanna chill here for a bit" he reasoned. Sunghoon hated to admit he can't swim, and if anybody hasn't noticed he has a big ego and it would in fact bruise said ego to admit he can't do something a toddler can do.

It was very embarrassing, Sunghoon has met plenty of cute girls at the community pool but immediately when being offered to swim with them he has to turn them down, his ego is too bruised already from knowing he can't swim but telling his friends that he can't seriously kicked him down a few pegs.

"Don't be lame Sunghoon it's only a little water" Jay teases as he splashed the brunette with the water in his face making Sunghoon's nose scrunch in distaste. Without the realization that Riki had been plotting. "Whatever I'm just gonna sit over on one of those chairs," he says as he lets his feet pull out of the water leaving wet prints on the concrete in his wake.

As soon as he stood at his pull height a pair of large hands were felt on his back. "Just swim with us for a bit Hoon, the water won't hurt you," Niki says as he pushes Sunghoon's back gently. Making Sunghoon's heart leap immediately "I'm good, I just don't feel like swimming," he says nervously as he stumbles over his words. "Come on, I wanted to play chicken" Ni-ki whines as he repeatedly presses into Sunghoon's pale freckled back.

But soon the small pushes turn into shoves and Sunghoon can feel his feet on the ledge coming closer and closer to slipping on the soaked slippery cement. Anxiety crept into the front of his mind as his friends watched with smirks and smiles while they tease him. His own personal torment, he felt like everything around him was becoming muffled watching as all his friends float at the surface while the cool water splashed around.

"Really Riki I think I'll sit this out" he stutters as feels the shoves are becoming too much and hopes that his younger friend will just ease up. But to his dismay, Riki is determined to get his friend in the water. Sunghoon could feel his heel on the edge and his breathing was becoming more and more ragged he let out a yelp, twisting on his foot Riki's push mid-turn left Sunghoon free-falling into the air as the sound of friends cheering reached his ears.

Panic. Sunghoon could feel the cold water engulf him as he sinks deeper into the water. Flailing his arms in hopes air could fill his lungs and his body would feel the heat of the sun again. But to no avail, he sinks further and further until he touches the bottom of the pool. Holding his breath until his throat burned his eyes seeing the bottom half of other people swimming.

For what felt like minutes Sunghoon let a scream die in his throat while water filled his lungs, his vision blurred and darkening with every passing second as his hair clouds his vision he lets exhaustion take over his person. His fight to keep conscious is a weak one, and the bubbles slipping past his lips reach the surface of the pool.

His friends all stare with wide and worried eyes as they realize that Sunghoon wasn't coming back up, the bubbles coming from the bottom of the pool in the same spot he had fallen in signifying that. "Alright Sunghoon, you can come up now. You don't have to hold your breath to scare us" Jake says with a worried tone. Anxiety creeps up on his friends as they all refuse to believe that their friend intends to put fear into them.

But the eldest of the group had taken extra precautions. Sinking his head underneath the water letting the chemicals burn his eyes, the blurred sight of his younger friend at the bottom of the pool where nobody could reach with a limp body. Panic takes over him as he comes up catching his breath "he's at the bottom passed out, wave down the lifeguard" Heeseung says in a rush as he dunks his head once more to see if Sunghoon would move. Yet to no avail he had sat in the same slumped position as his hair messily covers his face.

The distant sound of his friends yelling for the lifeguard had Heeseung pulling his head away from chemically induced water as he shouts "he's over here at the bottom" he sees you, pulling your keychain and glasses off your eyes are frantic as you make eye contact with the wide Bambi eyes of Heeseung who's guiding you over to his passed out friend.

And without little hesitation you dive in head first with wide eyes, looking at the very bottom of the pool you see him. The brunette boy with messy hair passed out against the very bottom of the pool. As you near him you lift his arm over your shoulder and push your legs against the floor helping you both float back to the surface as you use the rest of your willpower to kick your feet until your both above water.

Swimming past everyone in your way you see two people at the edge of the pool reaching to help you pull him out. "How long was he under there for?" You asked as you pulled yourself out of the pool seeing as they lay him down on his back. "2 or 3 minutes" one of them answers you as you push his hair out of his face and press your fingers against the space between his jaw for a pulse.

It was barely there but he wasn't breathing without another word; you tilt his head back and center your hands on his chest preparing him for CPR. Pressing into his chest repeatedly as you trained, fingers pinch his nose as your other hand holds his chin leaving his mouth to open you press your lips to his cold ones blowing air into his lungs as his chest weakly rises and falls.

Doing it a few more times and as you were about to press your lips to his once again a loud fit of coughing could be heard making everyone sigh in relief at the sight of the boy leaning over onto his side coughing up water as you held a hand over your fast-beating heart. Patting his back as he coughs up pool water you look up at his friends. "He'll be fine, he just needs to rest. '' You stand up, grabbing the towel his friend held out to you and wrapping it around Sunghoon's shoulders who had been shivering.

"I'll call a medic out to check on him, just sit him down in a chair" you look back down at the boy who had seemingly gained the attention of almost everyone at the pool. And as you walk away to the small staff building you hear the boy mumble "how long was I out?" And you almost crack a grin.

Sunghoon felt embarrassed. Not only did people refuse to go back in the pool for at least 30 minutes because of him but when he was getting checked by the medic you stood there the whole time watching his flushed face as they ask him stupid questions he could barely comprehend. And after deeming that Park Sunghoon had not suffered any real damages other than a bruised ego he told his friends to go back to swimming while he sat down.

You had been given a break and you chose to grab a popsicle and approach the boy you had single-handedly saved. Sitting down in one of the harsh pleather beach chairs "so... you feeling any better?" You ask as you take a bite out of the sweet blueberry-flavored ice. "yeah, just embarrassed I guess. Now everyone knows... I can't swim" he trails off his words as he feels his face heat up with embarrassment.

"It's okay to not know how to swim you know?" You say trying to make the boy feel a tinge better. "Yeah right," he scoffed "You know how to swim, and if it wasn't for you I'd probably be in an ambulance on the way to the hospital while some old man gives me mouth to mouth," he says giving a dry chuckle. You couldn't help but laugh at his words.

"I'll tell you what. I can teach you how to swim. I give lessons to kids during the weekends" you say with a small smile as you think about the young kids who you always have a giggle with every Saturday morning as they all ask you to watch whatever stunts they pull.

"I didn't know you taught teenagers," he says looking at you as you bite off another chunk of your popsicle. You shake your head "I don't, but I could make an exception and teach you when the pool closes since I lock up and everyone else leaves" you said. You had only offered because you truly felt bad.

"I don't know... couldn't you get in trouble for that?" He asks wearily, really Sunghoon was just afraid to learn how on the off chance he ends up drowning, again. "Not if we don't get caught... I have the keys so just show up tomorrow a little after 8 the gate will be closed but not locked. I'll be waiting" you say as you get up from the seat walking into the small building reserved for employees only.

"I never agreed....to that" he trailed off as he was now talking to himself. Squinting as he sees his friends happily swimming and splashing each other, while the teen girls and pretty moms dressed in color-coated bathing suits tan in the raging sun that was practically blinding.

——

Although Sunghoon never agreed to swim classes, he sure did wait in the parking lot of the community pool waiting 15 minutes past 8. Sitting in his car contemplating if he seriously should be doing this. Of course, the only cons were that: he doesn't learn how to swim and possibly drown again, or that he could be caught sneaking in by security.

The pros outweighed the cons so he opened his car door, locked it, and walked past the closed gate of the community pool being met with your back facing him as your feet were in the cool water. The clanking of the entrance closing makes you turn your head.

Sunghoon stood awkwardly watching as you look at him "you were sitting in your car for so long I thought you'd never come in here" you laugh shaking your head. "Well can't a guy be cautious? I mean I'm not exactly ecstatic to get back in a pool the day after I drowned" he said monotonously which makes you laugh.

"Well aren't we here to fix that now? I was just gonna do the floaty method until you were ready to try and swim on your own" you shrug. "The floaty method?" He asks curiously as he walks closer and sits on the edge beside you and looks at the reflection of the soft light coming off the pool.

"Yeah. It's when you lay on top of a floaty and you paddle around until you get the hang of swimming. That's how I learned as a kid" you smile as you look over at him seeing the soft blue hues from the water on his skin. "That doesn't seem too hard," he says content with the likes of how you decided to reach him.

And with that the both of you shed out your clothes and dressed in your bathing suits, you grabbed a spare floaty and handed it off to Sunghoon who looked exasperated "why'd you give me a pink sparkly one?!" He whined "because it was the first one I found," you say defensively. "And you didn't think I'd want one that's like uh I don't know not pink?" He says.

"I'm sorry princess I'll be more considerate next time, but right now I'm not worried about the stupid color of your floaty. Just get in the pool and lay on the damn thing" you tease him as he tosses his head back groaning and mumbling snarky comments under his breath.

Watching as the boy tosses the glittery floaty into the pool he uses the steps to get in slowly as he whines at the cold water. "You need to stop whining about everything," you say making sunghoon roll his eyes.

"For someone who doesn't know my name you sure do find yourself being comfortable telling me what to do," he says spitefully which makes you purse your lips in the realization that neither of you had introduced yourselves. "And for someone trying to blame me you didn't even ask my name to begin with,"  you said rolling your eyes.

"You can't be criticizing me when you haven't told me yours either?!" He bickers which makes you groan. "Y/n, but I asked you first and you couldn't use common courtesy to introduce yourself?" you ask with a faux offended tone. "Are you trying to peer pressure me into feeling bad?" He asks dodging your question.

"Just tell me your name or by the time you get in the water, the sun will be down" you sigh as you point to the pool. "Sunghoon, I mean I already knew your name because your one of the cool lifeguards" he nods "really? I just sit down and blow a whistle for like three hours" you explain with a small chuckle. "Yeah, but half of the time you let us get away with anything" he laughs as thinks of the time you were on duty and watched them play a full match of chicken and never once told them to stop.

"Let's just- start the lesson before the sun goes down completely" you mumbled as you felt heat on your cheeks and neck at his comments. "Lay your stomach flat on the floaty hold both of your arms out fully and paddle like you've seen your friends do at the pool." You say watching as he slowly inches into the warm water. "What if I fall off?" He asks he was too anxious to find out, he hoped, and prayed that he didn't have to relive the nightmare of drowning again.

"You won't. And this is the shallow end. So if you fall of just stand up on your own two feet and you'll be okay" you say in an attempt to comfort him. "I'll be in the pool watching you the whole time. So if you do end up drowning, I'll be there okay?" You say raising your brows at him with soft eyes almost instantly making him melt. He nods as he was now waist deep into the water, the waters blue reflection on his skin as he settles onto the small donut shaped floaty.

Stepping into the water yourself you stand near the edge of the pool feeling the small slippery tiles on your skin as the sound of the filter hums in the background of soft splashing and squelching of wet skin against the plastic toy sticking to Sunghoon's skin. "Like this?" He asks as you see his arms get lost inside the water soaking under the burnt yellow and orange hues of the sun.

And you don't know why it had taken you from when you saved him up until now that he was kind of attractive. The way his brown hair stuck to his forehead, or how buff he looked, maybe it was the freckles and moles that littered his back along with his muscles that flex every time he tried to adjust himself comfortably.

Blinking away your small daze you nod "yeah, now just kick your feet and paddle with your hands at the same time" you say watching as you watch the chlorine filled water ripple over his skin as he by memory mocks what he'd seen often at the pool. It was not really good to say the least.

"You need to stable your kicks or else your gonna sink, that floaty won't be able to hold you up forever" you scold him slightly watching as he fails to move very far with his lack of support that he legs are providing. "It's hard to move your feet and hands at the same time" he whines. "Well then you'll keep struggling if your body can't adjust" you said with a grin hearing him whine even louder.

You felt bad because he couldn't do much, so you caved. You caved and you pulled his floaty near the steps of the pool. You told him not to move his hands and hold onto the floaty while he kicked his feet. It was like the young kids you taught in the early morning, he was so excited when you let him go and he actually moved.

Not too far, he was dead serious about not going close to the deep end, he looked like his life flashed before his eyes when he saw how bigger the numbers got when paddled half way through the pool, he was so scared he asked you to pull him back to the shallow end.

You knew that you were gonna struggle with him.

——

And man we're you right. You decided that you would start teaching him 3 times a week and you were now on your 6th lesson. He ditched the floaty and was now asking you to help him hold his breath. The both of you had gotten so comfortable with each other that you would sometimes even dry off at the edge of the pool eating popsicles and talk for 30 minutes before deciding it was getting too late.

Now being one of those times. It had been a few minutes after the both of you had decided that the lesson was over, you had opened up the staff only building and took out two Cherry popsicles from the freezer you and you coworkers had often put cold drinks and treats inside. You could hear the distant buzzing of street lights and the chirping of crickets.

As you settle on the now dried concrete you hand him the cold treat and stare off into the water with a question sitting on your tongue you had been waiting to ask for a while. "How come... your parents never offered to get you a swimming class?" You ask just above a whisper hoping not to ruin the peacefulness around you.

He only shrugged "my parents don't care about that stuff. While everybody else was learning how to swim at seven, I was attending business meetings with my parents" he mumbled in realization that he never got to have fun much when he was younger. "Ouch" you say flatly. "Yeah, and it wasn't like I had any friends to swim with anyways. My parents called them 'distractions from my own success' but when I got older they didn't care as much. No more business meetings, and at one point I think my dad tried to pimp me out to his friends daughters so he could get in a good word" he laughed.

"So your living it up now that they aren't breathing down your neck?" You ask in speculation "I mean if that's what you would call it. My mom still flaunts me off to her girlfriends about how smart I am, so I just do everything I can to make her happy" he mumbles slightly embarrassed about how he just opened up to you about family.

"Mama's boy" you giggle which makes him scoff as he gently shoved your shoulder "what about you and you're family?" He asks as he watches your giggles die out in your throat. "I mean we aren't the most wealthy on the block, and we damn sure aren't any country club members. But I guess we get by just fine" you shrug "you got any siblings?" He asks in hopes that lightens the mood "no but I wish I did" you say with a feint smile.

"You don't. Trust me, if you had to wait an hour for your sister to get out of the shower I bet you'd be telling anyone who's an only child to not even ask your parent for another kid" he laughs as he's reminded of his little sister and him bickering early mornings when the other has places to be. "Really?" You laugh "it's a nightmare" he groaned.

The both of you begin to revel in the short silence between the both of you until you heard footsteps and a clicking of what you assumed what a flashlight making you gasp "oh shit" you wince as you stand up off the concrete floor. "What?" Sunghoon asked in a loud whisper "security, we gotta run or else we could get arrested and I could lose my job" you wince as the both of you look for the closet way out due to the security guard standing at the entrance.

As you see the light from his flashlight you lock eyes as you point to the fence. "We either jump that, or hope he's not in good shape" you say as you watch the guard turn the corner. "Hey! It's after 8 o'clock you can't be here!" He shouted as he sees you and Sunghoon scramble to collect all of his things and dashing around the pool and into the frigid grass.

Only for the guard to run in the same direction trying to beat you to the fence. Throwing his bag and towel over you both begin to as the cold metal of the fence digs into your bare feet. "You little bastards! I don't get paid enough to deal with horny teens!" He shouts as he approaches the gate with an attempt to grab your ankle but to his dismay was kicked in the nose harshly feeling the wet grass that has stuck to the bottom of your foot now on his face.

You and Sunghoon shouting and laughing out of pure fear you wouldn't be able to get out of there without most likely getting arrested for trespassing. "You know you aren't getting paid enough for this" you laughed as you wiggled your leg out of his grasp, Sunghoon finally jumping down to the other side standing infront of you holding out his hands hoping you'd trust him to catch you.

"Hurry" he laughed watching you pull your leg over to the other side and without much thought let yourself jump into his arms, you ignore the slight burning in the bottom of your feet as you feel his hands around your waist tightly. "Do you have a car?" He asks as the both of you jog towards the parking lot.

"No, I walk to work" you say as you feel small pebbles stick to the bottom of your feet as you both lead yourselves towards the almost empty lot. "Why didn't you say so? I could've been giving you rides home after lessons" he said as he unzipped his bag to pull out his keys. Trying to find the right one he unlocks it.

His headlights beaming onto you giving the both making you wince at the sudden flash. "Well can you give me a ride now?" You ask as he begins to walk to his car "that was the plan in the first place. I'm not leaving you here" he says snidely "not every rich person is a douche you know?" he says mockingly which makes you feel a sudden heat flash of embarrassment on your skin at his sudden assumption which was correct.

You follow behind him almost awkwardly as if you two hadn't been spending the past few weeks sneaking back into the pool and teaching him how to swim. Approaching the door of his car barely seeing the cherry red paint of the handles of his car you pull it open. The scent matching its color; sickeningly sweet cherry candy and leather.

You sit in the white leather seats hoping the feeling of it wouldn't absolutely burn you alive from being under the sun in the parking lot all day. But to your suprise his seats were mildly warm, the both of you putting on your seatbelts and he put his keys into the ignition listening as wind blows through the small vents on his dashboard and his engine practically groans and vibrates your whole body. Smiling at you he could hear the feint voice of Janet Jackson playing he didn't mind too much.

"Which side of town is your house on?" He asks as he pulls out of his parking space slightly hoping the pudgy security guard won't try and push his luck trying to get extra cash if he gets his license plate. "The west side, just keep going up the street and take a left I'll show you the streets to turn down" you mumble in an attempt to hide your embarrassment from explaining that your from the run down side of town. "I know where it is, just point out the turn on the main road" he says trying to push the lump in his throat.

Sunghoon was nervous, he's only been to west side once before and it was to get onto the highway for a road trip with his friends, he's never actually made a stop, let alone had to leave alone on the more violent side of town. He didn't think there was anything wrong with the people who lived there like you for example; you were nice enough to teach him how to swim. He didn't know about everyone else though, he was born and raised in the suburbs coddled into believing that the safety of his neighborhood had everything he needed and he wouldn't dare set foot into a neighborhood lesser than that.

You didn't blame him for looking shaken up, most people assume that all people from the west side are thieves, druggies, gun slingers who don't have jobs or live off of paycheck after paycheck. It was just a reputation that had stuck and though you never fit the criteria you weren't one to let it affect the way you lived life, you would just hope that it doesn't change the way Sunghoon sees you after you've built yourself a good budding friendship with him.

But the look of nervousness was blinked away in an instant as he looks over at the glove compartment in front of your lap. "I have a few tapes in there if you like any of the songs I have" he says pointing at it, you nod fiddling with the handle until it slammed open which almost earns a yelp from you. Sunghoon laughs at your tiny struggle while he turns onto the basically empty road and leaving behind an empty parking lot.

As you dig through the cassettes you see a bunch of mixed music, some jazz, hip hop, even rock, you make a few impressed faces at his music which has his eyes flickering at the tapes then to your face which makes him scoff with a small grin on his lips "why are you making those faces? Is my music taste that bad?" He his eyes goes back to the road as he nears a stop sign easing on his breaks. "No I'm kind of impressed, I didn't take you for an AC/DC fan" you pick up one of his tapes flashing the cover of it written in black marker.

"You shook me all night long is my guilty pleasure" he mumbled with a shy shrug which earns him a small giggle from you. Pushing the tape inside the slot you hear it shuffling around before it starts to play which makes you smile and put the rest of the tapes that had fallen into your lap back inside the glove compartment. Sunghoon turning up the volume he starts to sing in a terrible accent that has you laughing.

"You're corny" you laugh as you both exchange looks while he sings along messily and shouting over his own speakers, it all felt nice in the moment. Loud music, smiling and laughing, the top down on his car and you could feel the wind whipping past your face it felt nice. Singing along while you both laugh as you zip through a silent neighborhood and onto a busy street with more cars.

The lights turning into orange blurs as you see the streets of the middle class disappear into more run down and abandoned buildings, smaller one story homes, house that looked to have been burnt down or worse. Sunghoon still managed to hold his smile as he could hear the soundtrack end, and when the two of you made it to the main road on the west side it was utter silence between you two.

"Tell me when to turn" he mumbled looking around at the houses with a curious gaze. "Turn at the next street" you answer him pointing to green sign that read 'church hill avenue' Sunghoon eases himself until he turns onto your street, he can see the obvious smile on your face at the familiar houses that you've always known. He slowly drives down the road making sure he doesn't miss your house.

"My house is the small yellow one at the end" you grumble at how you have to describe your poor living situation; small, cramped, it didn't look bad in the least if sunghoon was honest. He could see the small garden he assumed your mom has right beside your front porch that had a few plastic chairs and a table with a rusted metal lid as an ashtray. Sunghoon was unfamiliar with a neighborhood and it was very obvious from the way he pulled into your driveway instead of stopping at the curb.

Shutting his car off he gets out of the car and opens your door. He was treating you as if the both of you had just come back from a date, but regardless you took the hand he held out to you as he ushered you to the front door. You both stood on your porch awkwardly. "I hate to break it to you, but I don't think we can do lessons at the pool anymore" you say almost biting back a smile. "That's fine, I have a pool at my place you can teach me there if you want" he suggests which makes your eye almost twitch in annoyance.

"So you've had a pool this whole time?" You ask in disbelief "yeah" he says bluntly nodding along with his answer "and you didn't think to tell me that before I risked losing my job and sneaking you in?" You ask breathily almost laughing at how stupid the both of you had been. "Sorry?" He says almost as a question. "It's fine" you shake your head.

"Uh I can start picking you up after your shifts and you can give me lessons, how does that sound?" He asks which makes your brows furrow "pick me up?" You ask, you have no idea why he was going out of his way to come get you when he would have to drive all the way from the south to come get you, then east to his house and then to the west side just to drop you off.

"Well I'm not gonna make you walk, I already told you" he mumbled he felt a heat on his face regardless of the cold night air on his skin. "You don't have to do that Sunghoon really" you try to reason with him "I want to. You should really get inside though, it's kind of cold tonight" he said with a sickeningly sweet smile looking at you with soft eyes.

"Right, and thanks for the ride and stuff" you give a smile back stepping closer you lean in giving a small chaste kiss to his cheek "goodnight hoon" you whisper as you pull away opening your front door leaving a stunned sunghoon who was lifting his fingers to his warm cheek that had turned a deep shade of red as he could feel your sticky lipgloss on his cheek.

He watched as you disappeared behind your front door, when you close the door he could only mumble a goodbye before walking back to his car in a small daze too caught up in the little peck you delivered to his cheek. Starting his car he replays the same tape you both had been blasting and having the time of your life to on repeat with sickeningly sweet smile on his face driving back to his side of town.

——

When lessons at Sunghoon's house began it was almost awkward, running into his parents who seemed almost out of touch with kids your age and let alone their money getting to their head. How could you forget the third lesson in Sunghoon's pool and you were doing a lap, the feeling of cold water on your skin and the familiar scent of sunscreen and melting cherry popsicles that were sitting on the plastic wrappers.

You could hear the sound of the back door sliding open to which you only assumed was the lanky brunette boy coming back with whatever snacks he could find for you both. But you were completely and utterly wrong. It was his mother Mrs. Park, you could see where Sunghoon had gotten his looks from he was almost a carbon copy from the smile to the beauty marks that littered her face and neck, brunette hair just like her son, she looked to be in her early 40's or late 30's yet no wrinkles on her flawless skin.

You swim to the edge as she stood there "hello" she says politely to which only makes you smile and return the greeting "are you Sunghoon's girlfriend? I've never seen him bring a girl home before" the woman giggles as she looks down on you, almost as if she was judging your looks to see if you were fit for her son just based upon looks alone.

"I'm not.  We met at the community pool where I work at" you smile at her but you watch as her smile almost fades "you work a job...on the North?" She asks sounding almost disgusted at the sound of it. You let your smile drop, your first impression of his mother seemed to not be going well already, though you weren't the type to judge someone based off first conversation yet the look on her face says it all.

"I do, but I live on the West, getting around is hard when your only ride is a bike while your money goes to tuition" you says letting out an awkward huff of a chuckle. "Right... what college are you applying for hon?" She asks tilting her head "most likely Duke or Brown. I'm still debating, my credits and GPA were high enough I just I'm struggling to choose" you say which makes her brows furrow. "Best advice, go to a community college; it saves your cash especially for someone who lives on the west side" she shrugs scrunching her face before turning on her heel and retreating towards the gate that leads directly to the driveway.

You clench your teeth at the comment watching the privileged woman walk away with her head held high. You didn't like people who looked down on you for social class, and you would think that because Sunghoon didn't treat you any less than because he figured out that you weren't living it up in the suburbs sipping on wine coolers and inviting boys over that his mom would be less than pretentious and not make comments.

But what could you expect from a rich woman with nerve and audacity. "Hey, you okay?" Sunghoon says trying to slip past the small crack in between the sliding door and the doorframe. He looked stuck but you could only giggle letting the moment with his mother past. "Yeah I'm good, what did you find in the pantry this time princess?" You laugh as you lift yourself on the warm concrete soaking it in the shape of your thighs and hands while water dripped all over the place.

"Nothin' much peaches, just stuff to make s'more on the stove and a pack of cherries from the fridge" he says holding up the plastics bags filled with different things wiggling them around teasingly. Peaches, he had been calling you that for a while now. After you kissed his cheek he could smell the peach lipgloss you had marked his cheek with.

"Before we even eat I want to try half of a lap around the pool. You can touch 10 feet for me right?" You ask mindlessly looking at the pool as the orange-ish hues from the sky bounce off the heavy chlorine filled pool. For you? Of course Sunghoon would do it for you. He doesn't know what's gotten into him since a week has passed and that kiss on the cheek had practically aligned the sun and moon for him. He was fuzzy in the head and anytime he thought about it he couldn't help but hold a hand to his heated cheek in the same spot.

"Hm? Hoon. You can do it right?" You ask once again breaking him from his thoughts immediately as he nods dumbly. "Yeah, no I can do it. I've been training for this" he says lying through his teeth. He was shitting himself, yes he did trust your lessons and he's been swimming without a floaty for half a week but he doesn't trust himself. Sunghoon has been so eager to impress you that even when you leave after lessons he sits in the pool for an extra hour or two to keep trying. He doesn't want to waste your time.

"I'll watch, I'm gonna be in the pool too. You don't have to be scared because I'll keep watch and if you want to quit midway I'll come get you" you say sweetly. Sunghoon softens completely, you were so nice for what? It didn't make sense to him; you and him were so different in so many ways, yet you go out of your way to do all these nice things for him while he can barely offer to drive you home after lessons without you putting up a fight.

You pull him by his forearm to the pool while he messily tosses down the bags of food into a lawn chair, guiding him over to the stairs only at five feet, the both of you walking in like it's a routine you have been doing for weeks now. The water feels warm now as it laps over your skin and darkening the red color of your swimsuit.

"You ready?" You ask looking over at the weary boy who seemed to be in deep thought staring blankly the water ahead, he thought of how it got deeper and even though he was attempting to achieve getting farther into the deep end 10 feet was nothing. "Mhm" he nodded as his eyes narrowed, he refused to let himself be embarrassed in front of you again and he wanted to prove he was making progress without a stupid floating toy holding him up.

"Just remember to come up for air if it starts to become too much" you mumble bringing your finger to your mouth anxiously biting at your nail that had chipped away polish on it. Sunghoon let himself walk deeper into the pool until he feel it was harder to reach with his feet. Sucking in a deep breath his eyes are screwed shut tightly, letting himself sink under the water.

He does exactly what you taught him, kicking his feet and basically scooping up water to push himself further to the 10 foot mark on the side of the pool. Not wanting to go any further his eyes burned from the chemicals, rushing to the top of the pool he paddles himself to the edge gripping the concrete with an iron grip he was anxious at how far he had gotten and was not ready to push his luck.

When his ears had finally popped he could hear you cheering him, you were smiling so wide that sunghoon couldn't help but smile back equal as happy maybe even more, hearing you laugh made his chest swell with pride. While he takes in deep ragged breaths and swims back over, his hair sticking to his face and his eyes red, and blurry. "I did it!" He says nearing you.

Pulling you into a hug the both of you are smiling, you can feel the warm water stick to your skin as well, not that you minded much, lifting your arms around his neck you bask in the hug feeling like a proud teacher who watched her kid get their first A+. But as your giggles and laughs grow quiet the both of you latch onto each other not wanting to waste the moment of being so close and basking in the sweet and sentimental achievement.

Sunghoon's hold on your waist tightens as he leans back to catch your gaze. He looked unreal, his eyes red, water dripping from his hair down his face, his lips puffy and stained from eating popsicles, and his skin was so warm pressed against yours. Your hand moving from his shoulder to the side of his neck, you could see the way his sharp eyes flicker from your lips back to your eyes.

Hesitantly he leans in, you do the same until your foreheads press together gently and you feel the bridge of your nose bump his your eyes fluttering shut anticipating the warmth of his lips on yours he leans closer, hesitation dripping all over him. You lean in as well, your stomach felt like you had been riding a roller coaster over and over again and the closer you moved together you could feel his warm breath on your lips which makes you feel like you're at the tipping point of the ride and you're about to hit the drop.

Your eyes flutter closed and you both pull together like two magnets as your lips catch each other's softness. You suck in a small breath through your nose as your lips move in a rhythm. Your hands find their way to the nape of his neck letting your fingers entangle in his brown hair .

His hand on your hip giving it a small squeeze, his tongue licks a small stripe against your bottom lip making your part your lips, you brush your tongue against his shyly feeling his warm wet tongue against yours. Letting out a small groan, Sunghoon backs you against the tiled wall of the pool lifting one of your legs over his hip. You could feel the bulge behind his shorts grow as it presses into your front.

"Do you wanna come inside? It's getting dark" he mumbled against your lips that were aching from all the hard pressure on your lips yet nodding as you were almost begging for more. You lift yourself onto the still wet concrete feeling the water drip down your legs as your swimsuit sticks to you like a second skin. You watch as Sunghoon pulls himself out and by the gods themselves had the blessed you with the sight.

You could see his muscles and veins protruding throughout his arms, his hair messily dripping wet and falling over his eyes, he looked absolutely delicious with his feint abs glistening with a small happy trail just below his navel. To say that the gods above took their time with Park Sunghoon was an understatement, because they put every attractive trait on that man and gave him a heartbeat.

When he's back to his feet you see a smile on his face as he holds his hand out to you, the excitement rushing through your veins hand your heart beating a mile a minute the wind blowing in your ears makes you shiver, watching him fumble with the sliding door awkwardly before slamming it open after using his fingers to pry it open eagerly by the crack. You could only giggle at how needy he was being as he pulled you inside, this time using the handle this time to shut it.

You've only been through Sunghoon's living room and kitchen, so when he guides you through the spacious halls as you blindly follow him just as eager and needy. When you finally stop in front of a door which you assume is his bedroom you think about how big the door is, how nice his upstairs is. Everything about the Park residence was expensive and gorgeous although it wasn't really the first thing on your mind at the moment.

Sunghoon opens the door to his bedroom, the curtains drowning out anything from the outside world that had nothing to do with him and you right now. Closing the door behind him he gently presses you against the door his lips colliding with yours once again, his hands pressed to your hips you both grind into each other letting the friction get you both worked up while you tug on his hair.

Rubbing your tongue over his the feint taste of cherry popsicles is just as apparent between the both of you. Titling your head to the side deepening the kiss you could feel his hands trail from your hips to the curve of your ass kneading the flesh harshly pulling you even closer if that was even possible.

Your skin sticky as the feint smell of sweat and chlorine became apparent, Sunghoon pulls you both away from the door not bothering to break from the hot and heavy kiss until you come to a stop, Sunghoon's legs hit the edge of the mattress he pulls away sitting down you could see it sink underneath him. His hands greedily pulls at the back of your thigh while his dark eyes look up at you "sit on my lap" he mumbled as he leaves small wet pecks of your stomach.

While you lazily attempt a nod your legs feel heavier than before you straddle his waist, your can feel through the skimpy bottoms of your bathing suit how hard he had become making you smirk. Before pulling him into a kiss much more needier than before, your teeth clashing and tongues tracing, spit falling onto your chins as you sloppily make out.

Your hips slowly start grinding against him earning a low groan, you smile into the kiss as his hands trace from your lower back to your thighs, rubbing gentle shapes into your skin. Slowly pulling back your teeth latch onto his swollen bottom lip making him gasp as his nails dig into the skin of your thighs most likely leaving crescent shaped indents.

Pulling away your lips latch onto his jaw leaving opened mouth kisses down his neck finding the perfect place to suck and bite on his skin, hissing at the feeling Sunghoon was throbbing through his shorts as your finger nails drag across his chest sending shivers down his spine. He didn't mind the feeling of your warm breath on his skin, or the way your hips drag against his, not even when he tilts his head back and he feels your tongue against his throat.

He was utterly intoxicated by the feeling, more than that. Sunghoon was needy, he needed more, but a thought had crept from the back of his mind— he lacks experience in bed, the farthest he had ever gotten is going down on a girl and vise versa, but it made him even more nervous that you wouldn't want to do anything because he is a virgin.

"Wait- wait" he mumbled as he pulls back gently "I've never had sex before" he whispers he looks down at his lap hoping that you wouldn't laugh at him or anything of the such for ever even being inside of someone before. He's 19 for crying out loud, and it makes his skin burn and mind race admitting that to you. Your presence made him vulnerable in ways he's never been with girls he's dated in the past.

Your eyes soften as you sat pressed against his chest "we don't have to do anything you don't want to do" you shake your head as you hoped he would meet your gaze, when his eyes flicker from his lap to your eyes he can see you genuinely mean every word spilling from your lips. "It's not that I don't want to do anything- because god I really want to, I just- I've never went as far as being in between someone's legs" he muttered gently.

Your hands trail up into his hair with a soft smile "if that's what you wanna do then- we can do that" you say nodding your head sternly. You were grateful for his honesty, most boys you've ever had a fair share of hook ups with have always lied about experience, the amount of fake orgasms you've had in your time was one too many in your opinion.

Smiling at your words Sunghoon nods and steals a peck on your lips, humming in satisfaction of your warm glossy lips pressed against his. Your breathing becomes heavier as you let out small choked moans practically be swallowed by Sunghoon; who was absolutely eager and needy he could barely let your lips separate for longer than a second.

"Can you sit on my face?" He whispers breathlessly against your lips, you can feel your legs quiver at the question as his fingers brush against the warm skin on your thighs letting out a shaky breath you nod as you pull yourself out of his lap. Pulling your swimsuit bottoms down and kicking them off your ankles you could barely look at the expression Sunghoon held on his face as your self consciousness had settled within bones.

Sunghoon's eyes met your bottom half, he could see the slick of your own arousal on your thighs and he couldn't wait to have his face between your them. But as his eyes meet your face he could see the worried look you carried making his brows furrow "you look beautiful" he murmurs as he reaches out for your hand tugging you close. "You look really beautiful" he says even louder than before as he leans his head down to meet your gaze hoping to see how genuine he had been.

Seeing your smile rest easily on your lips has him releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding. His hand dropping from your hand to the back of your thigh urging you to sit. Straddling over his waist he eases himself on his back as you crawl over his chest. You straddle his face over it as he comes face to face with your pussy making your thighs shake.

Your knees dig into the mattress as you crawl over his face, your thighs trapping his head between your thighs, the smile on his lips makes your stomach flutter. You were nervous to sit down all the way, making you hover over his face cautiously. "What are you doing? Sit all the way" he spoke to him with a small laugh that made his chest bubble.

He's met with the pretty sight of your pussy and thighs glistening in your slick arousal. Looking back up at you his gaze darkened as he gave small kisses against your thigh.

You gasp as you watch his head disappear between your legs. The heat of his mouth nearing your pussy he licks small stripes against your clit before he sensually licks from your entrance to your clit, and sucking on your clit with fervor.

You moan as your head falls back and your fingers find their way to his hair. The sounds you make are so pleasurable to his ears. He presses his nose on your clit, inhaling your scent deeply before his tongue dives inside your waiting pussy. You pull onto his hair, writhing against his face.

"Oh fuck" you manage to whimper out you tug at his hair as he groaned, your eyes shut as you "please fuck me with your fingers" you moan neediness dripping from your tone. His hand moving from your plush thighs, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit he pulled away licking your clit once more his middle and ring fingers make way to your entrance.

Pushing in slowly you groan at the penetration, easing your tight walls around his thick fingers as he pushes them deeper you feel the cold metal on his rings all the way at the knuckles of his fingers as it grounds you from the euphoric feeling.

Pulling his head away he looks up at you with your juices on his swollen lips and on his chin his fingers begin to move opening your eyes you look down at him feeling his gaze as he watches you react gasping as the feeling you grind down against his fingers "you like that? Don't you?" He says as he licks your essence off of his lips.

His hair now disheveled as his cheeks were heating up, yet if it weren't for the lights that were barely peeking through his window into his bedroom you would see his raging blush. you nod eagerly "yeah? You want me to go faster for you?" He coos feeling you clench around him at the sound of his lewd words.

"Say it" he demanded, making you clench harder "yes please- please go faster Sunghoon" you say losing your mind on his fingers as you absentmindedly grind down on his.He hums as he watches his finger get sucked inside of you. Moaning at the sight with sparkling eyes. His fingers hitting all the right places stuffing your pussy as the sloppy sounds of his fingers pounding into you as if you were his personal fuck toy.

"So good- just for me right?" He asks as his tongue finds its way back to your clit, he looks up at you choking on your moans "yes" you say feeling a familiar pressure build in the pit of your stomach. "I'm so close" you whimper.

sending tingles down your body before he licked big stripes of your cunt, sucking on your clit, his tongue working wonders on you. "Cum on my face- please" he says, his free hand shaking on your thigh. Your hips grind against his face as the feeling of his fingers so deep inside you curling had you gasping for air desperately.

His thumb replacing his tongue as he rubs circles on your clit, your hips shake as your mind is clouded with the sudden rush of your orgasm. You let out an almost pornographic moan as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you until you ride out your high.

"So good" he coos as you grip his wrist as overstimulation starts to creep in. Waiting for you to come down he slowly removes his fingers as he is eager to taste you.

Sunghoon's dripping fingers make their way up to your clit as his mouth makes its descent to your puffy lips. he pushes his heavy fingers on your clit as he adorns your lips with light pecks and kitten licks before using his free hand to pull them apart and licking your entrance. his mouth sucks hard in its endeavour to taste all of you.

Your hips buck at the feeling the sloppy sounds make your head spin. one of your hands moves to grip the hair on the back of his head and you push his face into yourself even more "oh god" you say shivering at the feeling. Pulling away his eyes look up at you while his lips attach themselves to your thigh, he bites and sucks the skin on your thigh in different spots leaving red and purple spots to bloom into hickeys as the hours pass.

Pulling away he lifts his fingers still covered in your cum up to his lips sucking on them becoming addicted to the way you taste. Licking whatever remnants of cum was left on his plump lips "You taste so good" he mumbled as he watched you pull away from him with a poor attempt to catch your breath and come down from the sensitivity between your legs.

"When you said you'd never had sex before I didn't expect you to be that good at going down on someone" you say breathlessly making Sunghoon laugh as he sits up using his forearms to hold his weight. "I didn't say I was bad at being in between someone's legs" he says shaking his head. "Well for a virgin I'm assuming you wouldn't between many peoples legs that much" you huff as your back hits the pillows on his bed. He coos at you while his hand reaches out for you "all that teasing and now you're all pouty" he says as he scoots closer to you landing a hand on your still naked thighs.

Shaking your head at his sudden cockiness "what about you?" You nod at him which earns you a soft yet confused look "what about me?" He asks as he finally adjusts himself to be seated beside you. "You're still hard" you point out as both of your gazes fall to his lap. "Oh. You don't have to worry about that, whenever this happens I'm typically doing all the work before she's off somewhere else" he shrugs like it's nothing .

"But I'm not them, I want to finish you off" you whisper as you roll over onto your chest waiting for him to grant approval of your new found fixation. "Okay" he says wide eyed and slightly breathless. Sunghoon was never on the receiving end of pleasure, and for you to be the first girl to even offer made everything align for him. You were nothing like the other girls he involved himself with; all too shallow and cocky, swimming in money, and selfish.

Sunghoon liked you more than he was leading on yet he didn't mind the feeling that settled within his chest as he watched you settle between his legs. Your fingers latch onto the elastic band of his shorts tugging them down as his painfully hard cock spring free from its confinements. His tip blushing red, yet shining with precum down his shaft. The sight made your mouth water you look up at him who had shown signs of nervousness.

"Show me how you touch yourself" you mumbled looking at his hands that had a tight grip on the bedsheets until his knuckles turned red. Nodding mindlessly his hand finds its way to his shaft as his thumb presses against his slit rubbing it gently his hips buck in sensitivity. Reaching his hand over he lets your fingers wrap around his length. His hand covered yours, guiding gently as you fisted your own up and down the length of him. The only sounds were your heavy breathing, Sunghoon's harsh pants that he pressed into your neck, his lips pushing kisses to your throat and shoulders when he could.

"Feels so good" he puffs out with a small groan. His words had you breathless, your hand fisting over him with more confidence now, palm slick from how excited he was, moaning at the feeling your thighs press together at the sweet sounds you pull from his throat. Leaning down flattening your tongue against the underside of his cock you dragged up against the vein running up to the tip— he let out a rich moan that ended with a groan "shit". His head was thrown back against the pillow and his breathing was labored.

Lifting his head from the mattress looking down at you, the sight makes him twitch in your hand, because this is what he's been thinking about all day. This was his selfish wish, to see you on your knees, your lip caught between your teeth, with a look of satisfaction as you get him off.

The feeling of your wet palm rubbing against him slowly has left his breathing unsteady and his mind completely blank. His hand covered yours, guiding gently as you fisted your own up and down the length of him. The only sounds were his heavy breathing, and you letting out a small giggle at how big his hand looked over yours as he tightened his grip.

He squeezed you, applying a little more pressure and you did, twisting your wrist a little as you got to his head, thumb stroking over him. His hips lifted into your hand and you couldn't help but clench your thighs tight.

"Your hand feels so good" he groans, His words had you breathless, your hand fisting over him with more confidence now, palm slick from how excited he was and you gasp ripped through you as he pulls away letting his hand run through his hair, eyes rolling back at the feeling.

Pressing a kiss to his tip softly earns you a small hiss at the feeling, dragging your tongue against the underside vein of his cock had his jaw slacked and back to his tip before letting a Pearl of spit fall past your lips watching as it slowly runs down shaft fisting him in your hand a few more times before taking him in your mouth.

He's big. thick. and the stretch that comes along with taking him in your mouth is a plaguing reminder. but you don't mind it too much, you like the thought of him when he's all deep in your mouth and you can feel the tip of him hot and heavy in the back of your throat it makes you gag, and choke, and your eyes get cloudy with tears to the point they spill over, but it's worth it. It's worth it without fail.

You swallow down the already-there taste of him on your tongue—you both let out a moan. Can feel the top half of him shift like his head has fallen back, an image of his beautifully parted mouth hung open, eyes screwed shut in pleasure has you moaning against him ; your body on fire, your pussy aching.

You match the pumps of your hand with the drag of your mouth up and down his dick. Swirl your tongue around the head and suck when you reach it. Let yourself go as far as your gag reflex will let you until you're gagging around him and he's cursing and digging his nails into the mattress once again.

And when you steal a glance to the side you can see how red his knuckles look from the death grip he has the sheets in. How his fingers twitch and hand runs along his thigh, acting as if he wants to touch you but not daring to. You steal another glance up at him, "oh, ohmygod" tumbling from his lips when your eyes meet; he looks so desperate right now. So flushed and pretty.

The feeling of his tip repeatedly meeting the back of your throat has you gagging and tightening around him. His head was spinning as he tried not to reach for your hair and face fuck you it was becoming harder. Giving up he teaches for the back of your neck pulling you into him as he becomes more and more addicted to the warm and wet feeling in the back of your throat.

His hips thrust into your mouth as he feels himself becoming closer to his much needed orgasm. He really can't help himself you felt so good around his cock, firm hand on the back of your neck as he thrusted his cock in and out of your pretty mouth while salvia dripping down your chin with every snap of his hips. You looked so damn gorgeous covered in pre-cum and spit for him, he couldn't deny that.

He moaned out your name,"Your fucking mouth,"He moaned out to you, caressed the side of your face with his hand  on your cheeks your throat constricted around the thick length but god, you didn't care how sore your jaw was, it was so worth it.

"Please? Can I cum all over your pretty face?" He whined as his brows scrunch as he was getting closer to what he wanted. Barely nodding Sunghoon  took his chance to keep fucking your mouth finding heaven. a string of profanities leave his lips. he's close, and you can tell by the way he begins to fuck into your face with unparalleled ferocity. to guide him there, you begin to hollow your cheeks and narrow your throat, using a single hand to massage his balls.

he can feel you start to get antsy, and when you start to scratch and claw at his thighs for air, that does it for him. with a final, lazy thrust, he releases the entirety of his load down your throat, keeping you pressed down on him until he's sure every last drop has been emptied into your mouth.

He felt utterly shy as he watched you pull away as strings of cum and spit attached the both of you still, watching as you run a finger against the corner of your lip; cum on your finger you press it against your tongue enjoying every flash of lust in his eyes as you try and catch your breath you laughed. "That was" sunghoon trailed off as he attempts to find the exact words of how he felt in his post-orgasm daze.

"Amazing" you huffed as you rolled over to the empty side of the bed. Sunghoon nodded in agreement as he mentally patted himself on the back at being able to make you finish. When your warm hands touched his bare chest he looked over at you seeing how you cuddled up to his side. The skin to skin contact making warmth wash over the both of you.

Basking in the small silence you can hear Sunghoon's breathing which almost makes you fall asleep in his arms. "I'm having a family function Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to come?" You look up at him with hopeful eyes that he'd take up the offer. Sunghoon on the other hand was nervous. He had never met your parents, let alone your friends within the month you've been giving him lessons.

"Sure" he said before his mind could even process that he'd be meeting your father, uncles, cousins, aunts, and on the off chance any one of your grandparents. But Sunghoon knew he'd honestly never be ready. "Okay, good" you mumbled as you fight the smile on your lips, sunghoon nods in agreement "good" tumbles out of his mouth just barely as the warmth in his chest starts to grow. The feeling is unsettling for Sunghoon, he's felt butterflies, and his face and ears heating up... but never the warmth in his chest.

"Let's take a shower and then I'll drop you off Hm?" He says looking down at you with utter infatuation. You smile at him as you feel the same unfamiliar warmth. The intimate moments shared in the shower of lingering touches and washing each other's backs and chaste kisses was something that came so easily and it scared you how the moment had come and passed like it was nothing, but your mind would save the moments within your mental scrap book of memories you never wanted to forget.

——

Sunghoon was nervous, he felt like he had been riding rollercoasters all morning; even when he had taken a shower he felt slightly light headed thinking about meeting your family. Excited was another emotion Sunghoon almost felt was eating him up from the inside out and ready to rip through his stomach. Dressing nicely for the hot weather and slicking his hair back. Just a few strands that were irritatingly not cooperating with him on the one day he needed it to.

Yet he let it go and decided that just around the time you had told him to show up, grabbing his keys off the kitchen counter and kissing his mom's cheek murmuring out a goodbye. "Where are you off to that has you so spaced out?" Mrs.Park asks with a small smile on her face watching her son stop in his tracks.

sunghoon could feel a smile on his lips "y/n's having a family get together and asked me to stop by for a while and say hi" he says as his smile grows stronger.

Mrs.Parks smile had disappeared just as fast as it had came. "The girl that gives you swimming lessons?" She asked as her tones sported a sort of annoyance in it. "Yeah, we've gotten really close since she started giving me those lessons" he nods smiling as he thought to the last time he had saw you. Close, Mrs. Park doesn't do close. Especially not with lower class girls like you that make her son and family get odd looks.

"That's...great honey, have a good time. Don't forget that the country club is having mid summer festival on Monday, it's gonna start at 8:30" she huffs bitterly with a fake smile on her face. Sunghoon doesn't catch her tone nor does he see the tight lipped smile she gives him, only nodding off and taking his leave without a care in the world. His feet felt lighter and his stomach felt like it had been flipped on the drive to your house.

The houses and people walking on the sidewalks blur past, the same AC/DC tape playing from the night you ran from security at the pool, he couldn't help but smile brightly at the memory of it managed to evolve from strictly swimming lessons to whatever the two of you are now (not that he minded). Turning down the familiar street he could see cars lined up against the curb and some parked in the front lawn grass.

Almost baffled at how many cars there had been parked when normally Sunghoon had dropped you off to 4 cars parked in their driveways. The feint sound of music coming from the small yellow house with pretty garden, and people scattered all over the front lawn. Slowing down as he drove past hoping to catch a glimpse of you he does. Sitting at the top of the steps on the porch fitted in a t-shirt tucked into your high waist shorts that showed off your legs, chunky bright red earrings, and your hair styled just right, paired with some white sneakers.

You looked good, different compared to all the times he's seen you always clad in a bathing suit and towel, shorts and tank tops, and hair messy from swimming. He likes the way you look all the time, as he rolls his windows down you make contact and smile almost immediately, waving. Waving back with a grin he felt giddy seeing how happy you had become by his arrival. He find a spot at the curb  and stepping out not forgetting to lock his doors like you advised the first time he dropped you off home.

He already has a fond memory at your front doorstep that clouds his mind as you leave a peach scented lip gloss stain on his warm cheek. Blinking away his thoughts as he sees you meet him halfway between the yard and sidewalk with a bright smile.

"Hey, I was wondering when you'd show up. My mom is really excited to meet you" you gush as Sunghoon pulls you in for an almost bone crushing hug. Both of you were surprised by his action. Sunghoon had seen you no less than 48 hours ago yet he was hugging you like he hadn't seen a glimpse of you in years.

Your face heated up at the sudden affection he showed you no less in front of some of your family members scattered around the front lawn. Finding comfort in his tight embrace you wrap your arms around his neck and let your eyes flutter shut as you take in the intimate moment not wanting to pull away at the now familiar warmth in your chest began to grow and your stomach felt like it had flipped.

Slowly pulling away Sunghoon's arms are lazily wrapped around your waist as you hold a minimum eye contact. "Everyone's in the backyard waiting for food, I want you to meet my grandma first" you smile as you think about the sweet aged woman who was awfully honest and hilarious without trying.

"Sounds good, I can't wait to meet her" he says with a bright smile. Hearing how much you were looking forward to introducing him to your family members. When you escort him to the large gate that separated your yard from your neighbors he felt like he could vomit from being so nervous. Wearing a tight lipped smile that screamed 'im going to cry any second'.

But the sight behind the gate made his brown eyes soften; you family dancing and laughing, drinking, younger kids chasing each other around, while the older kids sit at tables talking and gossiping about their summer. Sunghoon had never been in this environment once, just narrow eyes and gossip, expensive family dinners and posh music.

Your family was cool and the most interactive he had ever seen one outside of his small circle of friends who could barely say the same. The music blasts through one of the biggest boom boxes he had ever seen propped up on an empty table. "Wow" he whispers to himself as adoration fills your eyes at the sight of your family. "Come on, I want you say hi to everyone. I don't want it to be an hour from now and someone says 'so your friend can't speak' it happened the last time I brought a friend over. Never again" you say.

Nodding his head Sunghoon watched you shut the gate and guide you towards a large cushioned chair, he assumed by the gray hair peaking over it was your grandma and his smile hadn't wavered once. Your hand rests on the spine of the chair as your face brightens "grandma, I want you to meet my friend Sunghoon" you smile enthusiastically as her lips stretch into a smile.

"Oh! Hello, it's so nice to meet you. You're so handsome" she gushed as her eyes meet Sunghoon's as he laughs at the compliment from the elder women. "Thank you, it's nice to meet you as well! Y/n told me great things about you" he says remembering the time one of your days at the community pool when you told him about how your grandmother taught you how to swim in the large swimming pool she used to own.

"Y/n! How'd you find such a nice boy?" She smiles as she reaches her hand out for Sunghoon's pale one. Grasping it softly she shakes his hand "I met him at the community pool, and I give him swimming lessons" you smile fondly at the two holding hands. "Oh, you live on the north end of town? I heard it's pretty nice over there" your grandma nods. Sunghoon felt flushed and almost embarrassed he didn't know how anyone would react to not living remotely close to how they do.

"No, he lives on the East side, just a few blocks from where grandpa used to live back when you were in high school" you say making your grandma shoot you a surprised look "east side? Do people still grow those little cherry trees in the lawns?" She asks reminiscing her teen years. "Some do, my family doesn't have any trees we have little bushes and a small vegetable garden" he sulks.

"We have a peach tree over there in the corner, but we don't really eat the peaches because my mom is scared that there gonna make us sick or something" you smile. "We should pick some and clean them up sometime" Sunghoon says making you nod. "Go ahead and bring him to your mom, you know how crazy she gets about guests who don't speak" your grandma rolls her eyes just thinking about it.

You laugh and nod your head, Sunghoon bids your Grandmother goodbye as you guide him closer to a crowd of women. Their eyes pierce through him like a pack of Lions preying on their next 'meal' of judgement. "Is this Sunghoon? The boy you've been helping?" Your mom asks a cross the table and Sunghoon could've swore he was looking at the older version of you, yet she looked to be about late thirties with no wrinkles in sight nor a gray hair.

"Mhm, Sunghoon this is my mom" you smile as you wrap your arm comfortably around her waist smiling up at him. "It's so nice to meet you, I'm glad to put a face to a name that I'm hearing of often" your mom says making your face heat up in embarrassment at how easily she could say that. "Glad to know y/n talks about me" Sunghoon smirks at the idea of you talking to your parents about him.

"Y/n can you go in and check on the food in the oven?" Your mom asks as her hand rubs against your shoulder comfortingly. "Sure. If anything is done do you want me to set it out?" You ask pulling away from her grasp she hums watching you pass Sunghoon's now stiff standing figure as he and your mother share awkward eye contact.

Seeing that you were now out of ear shot your mom now taking her chance to evaluate Sunghoon fully. He's handsome, rich, a gentleman, polite, teasing yet humble. "Does she make you happy?" Your mom blurts it was almost surprising to Sunghoon if it hadn't been for the way her lips had twitched and her eyes narrowed while she stared him down.

"Very" he answers quickly, the sudden feeling of being interrogated washed over him. "Good, because I can tell you make her happy. She never brings friends over, let alone a boy. So your special" she says adoring the thought of her child finally showing off her social skills to her family. "I very well I hope I am. She's the nicest, most selfless and considerate person I have ever met" he says with a soft smile and eyes filled with an unknown look.

"Keep her. And I'm not saying it as her mom, I'm saying it because you look like a lovesick puppy just thinking about her" your mom laughs. "What was it like for you when you met the first person you loved?" Sunghoon asks pensively hoping for a serious answer. "I met him in High school, I held on to him, we got married and had y/n. We may not be the richest family but we do what we can" she says thinking of all her years with your father and you.

"Did it ever feel...scary? Not like a stupid crush but something that just doesn't feel real?" He asks once again. Your mom genuinely couldn't help the smile on her face "love is different for everyone, so I couldn't tell you exactly how love feels, but if your interested in someone else your not in love" she says reaching out to pat his arm.

——

Watching through the kitchen window the heat of the oven making the entire house feel like sauna; you watch your mom and Sunghoon converse in the middle of the backyard. You squint your eyes hoping you could read their lips but the beaming sun shining off the glass tables aimed straight for the window almost takes out your ability to have vision completely.

You sigh as you grab oven mitts off the counter seeing how ragged and charred from its run in time you make a small sound in disgust as you open the oven door feeling an even hotter wave roll out onto your skin looking inside seeing a pie baked crisply, smiling as you realize your mom made a peach pie, one of your favorites.

Pulling it out of the oven carefully the warmth of the tin holding the desert seeps through the fabric warming up your palms. You carefully find a free spot on the stove that hadn't been filled by a pot or pan filled with food. You hear the back door sliding open making you look over your shoulder to see Sunghoon standing Awkwardly in the small dining room finding his way through the table and chairs.

Standing in the small doorway watching as you take off the oven mits "you look like someone's mom" he smiles as you toss them onto the counter "yeah right, I'm bad with kids" you laugh even thinking about having to babysit someone else's child. "I doubt that, you work where tons of kids are for hours" Sunghoon says furrowing his brows. "Yet your kid friend still managed to make you drown" your lips curl awkwardly.

"You did not have to bring that up" he points a finger at you sulking at the memory which makes your lips quirk in a smile "I'm sorry, I won't bring it up again" you almost giggle at the pout on his lips. Dragging your feet over to him your arms slink around his neck making his stomach instantly flutter. Like second nature his hands wrap around your waist "yeah? You promise?" He asks with a grin pulling your hips into his.

"Mhm, I promise" you coo as you rake your fingers through his soft hair. "Thank you" he whispers as he leans in pressing a chaste kiss to your lips making you hum unsatisfied with how quick the feeling of his lips on yours felt. "One more kiss" you say dazed looking into his eyes. "Just one more?" He asks softly, you knew it wasn't going to be just one more making you snicker and shake your head.

Pressing your lips to his, shifting over until his back was pressed against the archway, hands perched against your lower back rubbing comforting circles against the fabric. The sound of the back door being pulled open again makes the two of you rip away almost immediately as your cousin comes into view holding a baby wrapped in a small blanket.

"Relax it's just me. Where's your mom's room? I need to put her down for a nap or else she'll get fussy" she says smirking at the two of you smugly, wiping the corner of your mouth shyly you point to the hallway "down there last door on the right" you whisper. She nods as she walks away eyeing up Sunghoon with audacious eyes almost as if she was evaluating him.

His head falls back against the wall looking up at the ceiling as his face is flushed. Sunghoon felt like his stomach had dropped to his ass when the two of you heard the door open only to be relieved when someone just about your age had walked in. "Is that her baby?" He asks curiously as he hears the door to a bedroom click shut.

You nod "no that's her sister, she practically raises the child herself" you roll your eyes at the thought of your aunt who loudly talks and drinks, and hands off her baby to anyone who has free hands. "Ah, you wanna go back outside for a bit it's really warm in here" Sunghoon says as he wipes the small sheen of sweat building up at the back of his neck.

Nodding you both walk out the same way you entered hearing all of the loudness and joy of your family come to surface. It was chaotic hearing the squeal of your younger cousins and the shouting of your uncles as they talk about whatever in the moment had them rowdy.

You felt a tug at your jeans shorts making you look down with furrowed brows until they soften at the sight of one of your smaller cousins at the ripe age of 5 doe eyed and clueless as she holds her arms up awaiting a seat on your hip making you smile at the young girl. "I haven't seen you all morning" you coo at her with a sweet grin. She smiles as her feet are no longer touching the ground as you engulf her in a sweet hug and her legs wrap around your hip.

"I went to go play- and I saw a really pretty flower that I want to give you so I came back" she says her eyes turning to crescents with a sweet smile on her lips as she struggles to let out the words that had already been made up in her mind but you understood perfectly. Reaching into the pockets of her tiny dress you see a small damaged flower, the green stem bent out of shape and some of the small purple petals missing.

Nonetheless you accepted the flower with a smile and nothing but a warmth in the pit of your stomach thank you, it's so pretty" you say as your smile had made the girl reciprocate the same face. Tucking the flower into your hair the petals itching at your temple that you ignore.

From your angle you had missed the way Sunghoon's face had softened and his ears turned slightly red 'not good with kids my ass' was on the top of his tongue yet he held it back watching you set the young girl back down on her feet watching her bicker about being put down with a smile on your face watching the stubborn young girl gripe about the rejection of affection she wanted give her older cousin only brushed off with "I have company but when I get the chance I'll come find you okay?"  You say but the girls short attention span caves in on her only running off mumbling a confirmation she understood.

"I thought you were bad with kids?" Sunghoon asks scrunching his nose "she's my favorite kid so I try" you grin making him shake his head "I thought they say 'i can't pick a favorite' when it came to family?" Sunghoon adds making you laugh. "They say that about kids, nobody says it's a rule with cousins because I definitely have favorites" you nod firmly to stand on your point.

"Why is she your favorite?" He asks as he watches the small girl run hurriedly into the crowd of your other cousins to which he assumed were playing tag. "She reminds me of myself when I was younger. Always trying to make other people happy" you say with a feint smile adorning your lips. "She feels like the little sister I never got to have" you say as your eyes latch onto Sunghoon's side profile as he watched your family with envious eyes.

"Why don't we sit down for a while and wait until dinners ready" you say patting his back softly making his eyes rip away from everyone else and zero in on you. "Yeah, what are we eat?" He asks which makes you smile "well at parties like these it's a lot of stuff so you can choose whatever you want and eat it. If you want seconds you can always go back for more" you nod as you guide him to an empty seat at the table filled with all your cousins around yours and Sunghoon's age.

——

Well into a few hours after eating and talking it had started to become dark, all the younger kids settled into the living room watching cartoons or sleeping in random rooms that their parents could find. A small bonfire had been made you and sunghoon settled down in two lawn chairs letting the warmth of the fire run over your skin. One of your uncles slipping the both of you bottles of beer with a sheer smirk  only turning away with the face of innocence like nothing happened.

"Did you have fun?" You ask Sunghoon watching his eyes stare into the pit of heat, orange hues wash over his face flickering as the crackling of the fire bring a sort of calmness to the atmosphere. "Yeah, I don't think I've seen a family as hyper as yours other than in movies" he laughs. "Is that a bad thing? Being hyper I mean?" You ask with a slight tilt hoping to catch the look in his eyes.

His head snaps towards you with wide eyes almost panicked "no! Not at all- it's a great thing I just, I'm never this close with my family" he trailed off awkwardly making your lips fall into a small frown. "I know Hoon I'm just fucking with you" you smile as you pat his thigh. Sunghoon makes a sound of false annoyance before his eyes eyes narrowed at you.

Then he noticed the way your arms wrapped around your torso tightly as you began to shiver, the night winds starting to pick up. Sunghoon felt guilty for not having a jacket "you cold?" He asks as he scoots the lawn chair closer hearing the distinct chattering of your teeth. "Yeah but...I'll be fine" you say waving him off making Sunghoon's brows furrow in confusion.

"No, we're going inside it's too cold and you'll get sick" he disapproved of your dismissive attitude as he stands up from the chair holding his hand out to you. Your eyes hold a longing question back. "Are- are you sure you want to come inside? You can go home if you want to I'm sure your tired" you ask with genuine concern.

"I want to see what your room looks like. What kid of host doesn't show their guest around? That's like proper hosting etiquette" Sunghoon snarks as he shakes his hand feigning annoyance at you for not taking it. Your warm fingers tangle themselves between his as he uses basic strength to haul you out of your chair. "I think you need more west side friends hoon.... even they'd tell you to never invite people in your house, that's how shit gets stolen" you say as the both of you begin to treck through following the dim light that shines through the small back door.

"Do I have to worry about that with you?" He asks jokingly and you immediately push his arm making him stumble. The both of you completely forgetting your holding hands making him drag you along with him during his side steps earning a giggle out of you. "Why because I'm from the west side?" You asked with a playful tone but you see Sunghoon's playful smile drop to something more serious "never" he flatly answers making you straighten up.

"I know, don't worry about it I would never steal anyways, my mom raised me better than that" you say hoping to air out the serious tone before the both of you were alone. The both of you finally are engulfed in the familiar warmth of the house as the lights are more dim. Neither of you knowing exactly what time it is and not that it matters you were too wrapped up in the comforting silence and presence of Sunghoon to care.

"You said you wanted a tour right?" You ask looking over at him seeing how he wrapped his arms around himself rubbing his bare arms hoping to get rid of the goosebumps that had risen on his skin. "Yeah, Show me around please?" He asks as he awaits your guide around the small home.

You trail through the kitchen that he had already been in once before, tracking into a small living room with a singular couch and a reclining chair all filled with sleeping kids. Stepping carefully through the small slumped bodies you and Sunghoon stop in front of a wall littered in paintings and pictures of you and your family.

One had caught his eye though; a picture of you and your grandma when she was visibly much younger. You were in a floaty that looked almost identical to the one sunghoon had been using at the community pool. You were smiling as your grandma held onto the pink plastic as the water you kicked had turned into a big blur behind you. Sunghoon smiled softly just imagining a younger you going through the same struggle he is now with disheveled hair and a few teeth missing.

"Who took this picture?" He asks as he smiles at the sight of your younger self as you described. "My grandpa, he and my grandpa didn't live that far away from your house. But after he passed she couldn't afford the rent or taking care of herself alone" you say lowly thinking about how your grandmother had to move in with your family after the loss of her husband.

"Where does she live now?" He asks, though Sunghoon didn't want to pry he wanted to know as much as he could about you and your family. "Here, she has my old room and I have the attic" you shake your head. "Is it not scary up there?" He asks with an undertone of concer written on his face. "It used to freak the absolute fuck out of me. My older cousins used to tell me that spirits haunt the attic and slept on the fucking couch for a month" you almost pout at the the thought of thirteen year old you bundled on the couch in the dark praying the spirits would decide your feeble under-grown body wasn't worth eating.

"And you believed it?" Sunghoon was almost at a loss for words. "You wouldn't? I believed anything those shit heads told me when I was a kid. Now I'm the one telling my cousins if they say Bloody Mary in the mirror three times she'll kill them" you chuckle as you think about the stupid myth that even you believed at one point.

"So you've turned into one of those shit heads?" He asks with clear amusement written all over his face "I take all the credit for all the kids ages 10 through 15 trauma of traditional scary stories" you shrug holding back your smile. "Yeah I see it, you really are a shit head. If my cousins ever did that to me we'd never speak again" Sunghoon jokes making you shove him.

The moment of silence was comforting as the both of you continue to skim over the wall of pictures, sometimes he'd point out one of you over the year and you'd explain. After a while you both managed to trail over to the door that led to the attic. A hallway with two doors, it had seemed very ominous but if it wasn't for the fact that there was a light in the very small hallway.

"I heard a rumor during Sophomore year you shanked a girl in the locker rooms, and if this is your way of taking me out; make it quick" Sunghoon mumbled shakily becoming all too stressed out at the quietness between you two. "You knew me during Sophomore year?" You ask turning your head stopping in the middle of the narrow staircase to look at him.

"Is that all you got of that entire sentence?" He deadpanned. "Well I heard that you got a hand job under the bleacher last year by that Mandy chick who smokes cigarettes in the bathroom" you laugh at the mumbles and rumors that spread like wild fire about Sunghoon and his friends in high school.

"How come we were never friends in school?" He asks completely brushing off your comment, "because I wasn't rich and you weren't exactly the nicest to my friends" you say with a wince remembering one of your run ins with Sunghoon and the rest of his rich preppy friends that he ran around school with.

"What? I was nice to everybody in school" he says defensively. "Park Jisung, the week before Christmas break. You and one of your friends were fighting and basically slammed him into his locker and neither of you said sorry" you say deadpanned earning a hiss from Sunghoon. "Ouch, I don't exactly remember that but now I feel bad" he says with guilt dripping all over his tone as the both of you finally reach the top of the stairs.

Guiding him past the very first door you and Sunghoon enter your bedroom. Neat, decorated, and a lot of records arranged by artist and genre. "Why do you have a picture of Johnny Depp above your bed?" He asks as he eyes the poster poorly taped to your ceiling. "Don't worry about that" you feel your body heat up.

"Right... your room is nice. I knew you had thing for music but I didn't know you had an entire bookshelf dedicated to records" he says as his fingers trail over the many plastic coverings reading them off. "It's a lot of rap in here" he says as he pulls out a random tape skimming over the cover to see it.

You smile "some of those were my dads, he has a real knack for music. But he listens more to Jazz and old school" you shrug as your fingers brush against the rim of one of the old dusty cases of a tape.As Sunghoon's eyes trail around your room once for hoping he wouldn't miss a single detail he see's a small box TV with a small pile of movies and a VCR on top of a long dresser that seemed to be catching up in age as it had paint scratched off and faded old stickers he assumed was from when you were much younger.

"So you've never had anyone in here before?" He asked as he walks a few steps closer, you could feel the air becoming warmer as you heard the slight undertone of suggestiveness in his words. "Nope, nobody was special enough to make the cut" you murmur as you sit on the edge of your bed. "So I'm special?" Sunghoon asks with fire in his eyes as he understands the meaning behind your moms words.

"You could say that" you shrug stubbornly as you look up at him who was only 2 strides away from his legs touching your knees. "You know I am" He nods firmly as if he was trying to convince you to say it out loud. "Only special people get to lay in bed with me and help completely hot box the shit out of my room" you say lifting a brow up at him suggesting he takes the offer.

"What makes you think I smoke weed?" He asks with narrow eyes. Sunghoon does smoke he just wants to be difficult and rile you up. "Because the last time we were in your room I saw an ash tray and a half smoked blunt sitting inside of it" you purse your lips looking at him with expectant eyes. "And you kind of always smell like weed mixed with cologne" you shrug as you attempt to roll onto the other side of the bed and open the bed side drawer with a glass bong standing tall.

Grabbing all of the necessities you smile at the glass shaped like a woman's naked body. Packing the bowl with the green plant and pressing down gently with your finger your hand scampers around the sheets for your lighter. "Sit on the bed don't be shy it's not like I'm gonna smash it on your head" you say with a grin as you see sunghoon sit on the edge and grabbing the small metal lighter off your pillow.

"Seems like you know what you're doing" he says in a matter-of-fact way which makes you scoff. "I smoke a lot sue me. Working with a bunch of kids and parents all week makes me need soothing" you crack a smile at how stressed you sound. "When did you start smoking?" He asks quizzically making you laugh. "When I was 16? One of my friends had helped me sneak out for the first time to a party and she wanted to teach me so she shot gunned me until I actually wanted to smoke from the blunt" you explained as you was the flame of the lighter flicker and engulf the weed.

Sunghoon watches as you take the very first hit as the smoke builds inside of the see through glass as the bubbles formulate, you pull the small tube attached to the bowl taking a larger hit to clear the rest of the smoke before holding it in your lungs and exhaling to let out the largest puff of smoke Sunghoon has ever seen someone indulge in ever.

Watching you a few more times you finally hold it out for Sunghoon who takes it following in what he saw you do. The both of you are practically sinking into your bed on different side as the both of you talk nonsense and memories. "Wait...do you have a record player?" Sunghoon asks as he finally realized as he looks at the bedside table to see the old red and black record player.

"Yeah...choose a song and play it" you say slowly as your eyes feel heavy. The fur blanket underneath you bringing you slight warmth, as the tall lamp in the corner of your room was dim and brought a warmth to the look of your bed room and your pillows threatened to pull you into sleep. But the sudden movements of Sunghoon standing up from your bed and blowing your thick shelf of records kept you wide awake.

The distant sound of your family still outside loud as can be drinking and probably playing a card game brought you a sense of familiarity and a small smile on your face. Lugging himself back over to your bed and slumping himself close enough to your thighs he hands you a record "Selena....didn't expect that" you say softly as you tilt your head opening the jacket and watching carefully pulling to the round shiny black disk from the pocket of the record casing.

Leaning over you set the record on the platter and position the tone arm before hearing the soft crackles of the track beginning. Hearing the beat of 'Dreaming of you' beginning to play brings you relaxation. "When did you listen to love songs? I've only heard you listen to rock and a little of pop" you smile hazily while teasing the brunette boy.

"Who says I can't be romantic?" He asks looking up at you with an arched brow. "I'd just like to see it myself, I know you may have a lot of girls chasing you for the experience but I want front row seats" you smirk as your hand lifts to his hair carding through his dark locks. Sunghoon's hand wraps around your wrist as he keeps your hand on the back of his neck as he slowly leans into you.

Pressing a soft chaste kiss to your lips as if you were glass and if he kissed you any harder you would break. Both of your eyes are low and red, as you both search each other's eyes for any sign of wanting to stop but neither of your faces showed an ounce of it. Slotting your lips between his your lips move at a more passionate rate.

You felt Sunghoon's hand press flat against your thigh needing your skin as his tongue licks a small stripe against your lip, taking it the hint your tongue presses against his making you moan softly into his mouth. Sitting up from his position on his stomach Sunghoon can feel the kiss grow more intense. His hand finds your cheek as he sits up on his knees gently guiding you on your back with your head against the pillow.

His body hovering over yours his hand on one side of your head while the other begins to travel your body down to your upper thigh. Tugging on his hair as your feel the aching between your thighs start to pound. His hands settling on your hip gripping it. Gasping you pull away from the kiss Sunghoon slightly chasing for the feeling. "Do you....want to keep going? I don't want you to think you have to" you say just above a whisper as you and sunghoon hold a stare.

Everything had fallen into place for Sunghoon, he hadn't even cared enough to realize he was getting hard in his jeans from just kissing you in the moment, but he wasn't apposed to the idea at all. "Yeah- yeah I'm ready" He staggered over his words in such a list driven daze. Pressing open mouth kisses to your exposed neck sucking and biting the spot just below your ear that had your moaning softly as you grind against lap pressed against you agonizingly hard.

The friction was just barely enough making you almost whine. As your grip on his hair loosens and your breathing becomes heavier. Sunghoon was becoming needy, he wanted to feel you; all of you. Grabbing onto the hem of your shirt letting his cold hand touch the warm bare skin of your waist.

Although Sunghoon has seen you naked and has kissed you before it all feels different, his stomach was churning, his body was impatient and needy, his hands wants to touch every part of your body he possibly could that you would allow. "Can I take this off?" He asks slipping his hand from under your shirt and tugging at the fabric anticipating your true answer.

"Yeah. Take as much or as little as you want. You want to do this sunghoon so I'm telling you that you don't have to ask for everything when you know the answer is yes" you explain softly, you understood that this was Sunghoon's first time but you want it to come naturally and that he needed not to worry at all.

Inhaling a shaky breath he nods as he pulls your shirt over your head and tossing onto the floor without a care in the world, his lips latch onto your chest kiss and sucking marks all over your collarbones while his hands settle on your waist. Letting your head lay comfortably against the pillow you let out a soft sigh at the feeling of his warm open mouthed kisses against your skin.

Feeling him become more eager as he trails his kisses further down your chest until he reaches the fabric of your bra pressing his face in between your mounds and inhaling the sweet perfume you had on. Your eyes roll back at the feeling making you pull down the straps and unhook it completely. With lust hazed eyes Sunghoon looks up at you as you pull down your bra and drop it onto the floor next to your shirt.

Sunghoon could feel himself twitch in his pants at the sight of you completely topless, your breast look so pretty and he can't help but touch you more and more growing desperate to strip you of every last bit of clothes, touch and kiss every inch he could discover.

Licking a stripe on one of your nipples you roll your hips at the feeling. But as soon as he pulled away you whine, "sit on my lap" he says in a low tone.

Catching a glimpse of the look on his face as the both of you shift until Sunghoon's back presses against the headboard. Pulling his jeans down and tossing them on the floor he looks up expectantly waiting for you to pull yours off as well.

Understanding without saying a word you pull them off discarding them with his as well. Leaving you in your panties that were sticking to you with a small wet patch seeping through the thin fabric.

Crawling into his lap your press your ass down on his bulge with no regard earning you a choked moan. You could feel as your pussy practically stuck to the wet fabric of your panties while you grind your hips against him.

The small wet watch of precum becomes larger as your panties make friction soaking his underwear as well. The outline of his cock rubbing against your clit makes your head spin and you couldn't help but moan and grind harder against him.

"You feel so good" you whimper hearing the sticky sounds of your slick thighs rubbing together, it was messy yet the both of you were too eager chasing some form of an orgasm to care what kind of mess you make.

As you look down at Sunghoon whose head was thrown back while he lets out the deepest groans of pleasure. His hands guiding your hips against his at a faster pace makes you choke out louder moans.

"Fuck" he whispered harshly as you land your eyes on a dazed Sunghoon who was on cloud 9.

You moan at the sight of him making Sunghoon open his eyes and look up at you, "you looked too good" you whisper placing one of your hands down on his lower abdomen as you feel Sunghoon buck his hips into you faster.

The feeling of the fabric running against your pussy slightly burned but it felt too good to care. "Feels so good" he grumbled as the pressure began to build. The both of you chasing your orgasms push your panties to the side rubbing your bare pussy against the fabric of his boxers at a fast pace that makes you whine.

You gasp feeling yourself being sent over the edge, Sunghoon began to slow down but you only shake your head as you anticipate him reaching his peak. "Please keep going, I want you to cum" you moan as your nails drag against his skin leaving behind a trail of red marks.

Your needy words make his eyes roll back as he pushes your hips down, he ruts into you as he moans shamelessly. Sunghoon had no idea if it was just the weed or if your pussy had fucking magic but your sweet moans and the sloppy sounds send him into a spiral of pleasure.

His cum seeps through his boxers as his hips twitch in a bit of overstimulation he didn't care, his hips slow down and then stop completely as he feels himself slowly coming back down to earth.

He lets out a large huff as a shy smile finds its way on his face, he can't believe he just came in his boxers after literally letting you dry hump him like a needy puppy. His hands grip at the flesh of your ass he lets out a small chuckle with a smirk on his lips.

"You're driving me crazy- fuck" he groaned as he continues to catch his breath. You giggle at him still feeling your mind trying to process. You've had sex many times high, drunk, but mostly sober, and none of those times had an orgasm ever felt so good to the point your thighs quivered or you had been at a loss for words. Yet here you were with Park Sunghoon some rich boy you've been hanging out with all summer high and hooking up in your bed room.

No less it was passionate, you didn't understand how a heated make out could lead up to taking someone's virginity but you didn't question it. You were content with just kissing and grinding against the cute brunette boy.

You weren't the only one feeling this way, Sunghoon would have never seen himself actually getting close to third place. Before summer Sunghoon had kept 2 secrets to himself:

1. He doesn't know how to swim,

2. He is a raging virgin.

But no thanks to you by the end of the summer he assumes neither of those things he will have to worry about anymore. The thought makes him smile at you. "What?" You ask sitting up in his lap letting your arms wrap around his neck comfortably. "You teach me how to do a lot of things. Are you sure your a great influence?" He teases as he presses his nose against yours holding eye contact.

"I don't know, are you learning anything valuable with me?" You ask pressing your hips against his with a tilt to the head and a small hum. "Yeah I am" He says pressing small kisses to the corner of you lips, then to your neck and shoulders. "I wanna keep going" he mumbled making you meet his soft gaze. "We can keep going Sunghoon I don't mind" you laugh softly.

"I'll take care of you, I promise you can always tell me to stop" you whispered as you plant a soft kiss on his warm cheek, your hand landed on his rubbing comforting circles on his knuckles. Slowly turning his head, your forehead gently presses against his, the bridge of your nose grazing his you both lean in closing the small gap.

And the moment your lips meet it felt like your very first one, kissing messily while your teeth and tongues clash and your moans practically mixing I to background noise along with the music. He's stealing your breath, and inhaling all the sweet little sounds you make, swiping his tongue to get a taste of your lip balm before it's completely kissed away. You're smiling against his mouth, you can't help it, giggling lightly at the feel of his breath fanning over your kiss-swollen lips. "We'll go real slow" you mumbled pressing chaste kisses to his lips that made him chase after them hoping for more.

Pulling away far enough, your hand angling his jaw to the side getting a good view of his blank skin just waiting to be marked with purple and red splotches. Your lips pressed into his skin earning a soft huff from him. Your tongue running against his skin left him gripping against the edge of your mattress letting his nails dig into the material leaving behind crescent shapes.

Your teeth brush against a spot on his neck that had him choking on a moan "does that feel good right there?" You ask seductively looking down at the wet red splotch on his skin where a small mole had sat idly. Kissing the same spot gently you feel him nod. Humming as you kiss along the nape of his neck and littering hickeys until you reach the hem of his collar. "You wanna take this off for me?" You mumble tugging on his shirt.

"Yeah- I can take it off" he whispered almost as if he were nervous. Sunghoon has never been on the bottom nor has he been inside someone, ever or even coming close. He always thought to take charge, but the way you were kissing his sweet spot and talking to him had him ready to let you do whatever you wanted to him as he pulled his loose shirt over his head messing with his long brown hair messily falling back against his forehead.

To you he looked like he had been made from the heavens above, his skin pale and imperfect yet every scar, mole, freckle, and scab that littered his body. The image of him under you moaning alone had your panties sodden with slick, and you could feel it begin to pool and settle. you were so unbearably wet, so touch-starved, you wanted to feel some sort of relief.

Your cold hands met the warm skin on his chest trailing down to his stomach and down to his v-line where you could see a faint-happy trail that disappeared into the boxers that were practically suffocating him. "Lay back" you whisper to him as you slightly put pressure on his stomach implying that you wanted his head to meet the warm soft sheets on your bed.

Your hands rub over him as a trail of goosebumps follows up his skin. "I wanna make you feel as good as you make me feel" you mumble as you lean down your hair falling over your shoulder you press a kiss to his plump lips that were starting to become red and swollen with every passing moment.

Trailing your lips down the column of his throat as he swallows the lump in his throat harshly. Moving down to his collarbones you nip at his skin with your teeth kissing the same spots continuing to give him his own slow and pleasure-filled torture. He chokes out a moan as your warm tongue traced around his nipple and his hips jerk up into you almost shocked at the stimulation and pleasure he had gotten from your tongue on his skin.

"You like that?" You say almost teasingly as your tongue licks a stripe on his nipple that earns another needy moan to ripple through his throat and fill the room. "Feels so good," he says breathlessly "I know baby, I'll go real slow for you" you coo at him seeing how his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your lips ghosting over his chest.

Kissing and sucking on his skin until you reached his jeans pushing yourself up from his lap your hands trail down to the loops of his jeans which make his eyes open "can I take these off of you?" You ask softly looking down at a dazed and pleasure-driven Sunghoon with red, glossy, doe eyes looking up at you who stood over him.

"Yeah, do whatever you want" he shook his head agreeing to be the victim of your lust and was ready to let you do whatever it is that you pleased with his body. "Good" you say seeing his black boxers you hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxers tugging them down, over his thighs as he lifts his hips to help you tug them down to his ankles and letting him kick them away onto your floors.

The sight of his cock flushed, and his tip pink and glistening under the lights of your room. Your hands are on his thighs as you get on your knees on the far end of the mattress digging into the springs feeling them ache already and will most likely get fabric burn. Rubbing his thigh you began to kiss up his thigh as he huffs out small shaky breaths awaiting the sheer pleasure you were going to inflict upon him, he was utterly eager to feel your warm mouth on his cock.

Kissing a small beauty mark on his hip that has him squirming as your lips trail and skin across his lower abdomen which earns moans and whines as you take your time leaving small marks on his skin. Your hand trails where his cock rested against his lower stomach semi-hard as your index finger rubs against his tip seeing as a string of precum sticks to your finger still attached to him.

Puckering your lips you press small kisses and his base and up his shaft until you reach his blushed tip, licking a stripe of saliva against his slit had his thighs quiver "fuck" he groaned feeling your lips envelope his tip slowly taking him in your warm mouth,your hand still at his base jerking him off Sunghoon closes his eyes as his hand pushes your head down further.

Flattening your tongue against the underside of his dick you dragged up against the vein running up to the tip— he let out a rich moan that ended with a groan "shit". His head was thrown back and his breathing was labored.

you rubbed your thighs together as that incessant warmth between your legs became stronger and stronger. You could, feeling the tip nudge the back of your throat while your nose was nestled tightly against his pubic bone. While your eyes were closed tight to focus on relaxing your gag reflex to not ruin the tight feeling for him. Sunghoon let his hand guide your head to bob while you hollow your cheeks, Sunghoon was losing his mind at the feeling.

Breathing through your nose you could barely breathe as Sunghoon bucked his hips into your mouth, losing himself in the feeling of your warm mouth. Spitting on his tip you use your tongue to spread it, earning a moan as his pats become tugs when your lips wrap around his and you push your head down relaxing your throat you feel tears well up in the corner of your eyes.

Pushing your head down further you relax your throat taking him deeper until your nose hits his pelvis. Tears cloud your eyes as you almost gag, pulling your head back just a bit you take a deep breath through your nose and begin to bob your head.

You moan as you feel him buck his hips into your throat. "Feels good," he said as you continued to take him in your mouth slurping and bobbing your head, all without hands you were heaven-sent."don't stop" he cursed while moaning out, you speed up your pace as his balls were greeted with a squeeze from your hand. He was approaching his orgasm as his hips buck into your throat relentlessly you gag with each thrust. Tears spilled past your lashes and down your saliva-covered cheeks.

The groans made your pussy ache so you clenched your thighs closed. Sounds of groans buzzing in his chest you couldn't help but let out gags and moans at the tall man above you tears pricked your eyes again but you blink them away and continue taking him. He felt so good your warm and wet mouth was doing it but when you hollow your cheeks. Your hand that was at his base continued to move leaving him to buck his hips into your warm and wet cavern.

You gag as he repeatedly lets his tip meet the back of your throat yet you never pull away. "You take it so fucking- good" he slurs feeling himself twitch, your moans muffled sending vibrations to his dick making him shutter and his orgasm approach. "I'm gonna cum" He moaned as he thrusts one final time before he pushes your head down, cumming down your throat.

Sunghoon felt utterly drunk on the feeling of him coming down from his high, realizing you were still dressed in your pretty panties. "Please fuck me" he whispered, he was desperate to have himself buried inside of you. "You want it that bad?" You whispered looking down at him with a slight shock.

"Yeah, I just wanna feel you so bad" he mumbled as he could feel a blush creeping up on him and his body feeling like it was on fire just from the way you look at him. Pressing his lips to your chest and neck as you grind on his still-hard cock, the feeling of your wet panties and him panting against your skin. "You're so pretty" he mumbled as he sucks and bites at your skin making you bite your lip in hopes that he wouldn't see the smile on your face at the slight compliment.

Humming his mouth attaches to your nipple sucking gently, your mouth falls open as you moan "fuck" you whisper as your fingers entangle into his brunette hair pushing him into your chest, the feeling of his teeth brushing against you makes you unconsciously rut your hips against him dragging the fabric of your panties against his sensitive cock as you both moan.

"I'm done teasing," you say slowly coming back down from your list filled high. Catching your bottom lip between your teeth you lift your hips almost whining at the loss of warmth from Sunghoon's cum covered thighs pulling off your panties but didn't have much time to think about it as you wrap your hand around his still-hard cock.

Rubbing his tip against your clit hearing the slick sounds made you hum as you press him against your entrance slowly pushing him inside your warm and soaked walls you both moan in sensitivity as you sink into him the feeling of hin you had you clenching around him, feeling filled to the hilt "I just wanna cum" he whined under his breath as he guides your hips weakly to move.

"You're gonna cum soon I promise" you whisper as you pepper kisses on his face as you lift your hips to slowly begin bouncing against his lap, a moan dying in your throat as the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls leaves you in an early state of ecstasy. You pull out slowly, just enough to keep his head inside before pushing back in. A groan escaped his throat at how good it felt.

His nails digging into your hips as nothing but pleasure is all he could think about. You hear him breathily moan your name as his tip rubs against a spot inside you that had your eyes squeezing shut, you could feel his hips chasing yours lazily thrusting into you making the both of you groan.

You felt like you were stuffed, Sunghoon sat up until your chests touched. He slowly began guiding your hips to bounce repeatedly at a set pace. The way you sink into him was addictive. Your hands move back to grip his hair, and you tug and pull with each bounce.

"You feel so good" you whisper into his ear, Hoon could feel his eyes roll to the back of his head from just hearing you talk dirty. He began to thrust into you, setting a faster pace. You moan at the feeling of his thick shaft rubbing against your silky walls and his tip practically kissing your cervix.

His nails began to dig into the skin of your ass as he continued to let you bounce in his lap, the sound of your moans and the creaking of the bed was all Sunghoon's ears could pick up on with his foggy and fucked out mind.

He was drunk on the feeling of you wrapped around his cock like this and it felt amazing. He whispered heavy 'please' for you to go harder as you rut yourself against his base.

A small ring of cum from your previous orgasm began to drip from his base as his thighs hit yours as you continued to fuck yourself harder on his cock. You feel hazy as you moan your nails dragging against the back of his shoulder.

You clenching down on him kept his mind set on doing one thing, and that was getting you both to your hopeful orgasm. Your hair bounced with every hard thrust he gave you hope that you both would cum soon. Your hand found its way to his hair grabbing at his brown tresses making his eyes water at the pleasure and pain

"Fuck, you look so damn good when you cry" you choked out along with a whimper as his tip practically abused your insides. The twist in your stomach made you realize that you were close. "I'm gonna cum" You had moaned, feeling your walls gripping around him tightly. Hoon began to thrust into you faster as he felt that same feeling bubbling up inside of him moaning and whining for release.

He couldn't help but let out a string of curses and moans "fuck" he groaned feeling how you squeezed down on him letting your orgasm wash over you.

The sweet moan you let out pushed him over the edge as he let his cum paint you white on the inside. He could feel you throbbing and his cum spilling past your walls. He couldn't help but thrust deeper into you fucking his cum deeper inside you.

Your hips are shaking with overstimulation. He couldn't even put together a coherent sentence. He just let you fuck him dumb. His whimpers fall on deaf ears as he lays his head against your chest in exhaustion giving small kisses to your skin.

Sunghoon felt like he just won the lottery, not only did he lose his virginity but he lasted longer than you did but only by a short lived 20 seconds, but he didn't care he was too high and honestly caught up in the moment to pay it any mind.

Slowly pulling your body away from his you were tempted to see his cum dripping from your thighs but exhaustion and the weight of your own body convincing enough to make you lay down next to Sunghoon and stare at your ceiling letting your actions and feelings sink in.

Then you realized that your record had still been playing making you close your eyes. "About our Monday lesson...my mom told me there was a summer festival for the country club she goes to and I wanted to bring you" he mumbled as he uses his little strength to turn over onto his side and drape his hand across your waist.

"No" you answer straight barely giving him a chance breath. "Why not? I thought maybe you'd want to meet my friends and y'know have fun" he mumbled as he clutches the sheets that covers your naked bodies. "Sunghoon it's nothing wrong with meeting your friends, it's just- isn't it weird bringing the poor girl to the rich people event?" You ask narrowing your eyes up at the ceiling seeing the poster of the movie star Sunghoon had brought up earlier.

"What? No. Why would that even bother you? Everyone's going to be having too much fun to care about how much money you have. Besides I'll pay for everything you get. And if someone gives you shit for living on the west side I promise I'll handle it ok?" He asks softly.

Does he really want you to go that badly? The answer is yes. The exposure Hoon has had this summer was starting to rub off on him, the trips to the west side and maybe even stopping at corner stores for snack with you, and now seeing how a family is supposed to treat each other and happily see each other, seeing how it wasn't as tight knit and well kept together as the suburban houses, mothers and their book clubs, teenagers who were even more close, and families that only stick together for image had it not been because everyone was so judgmental many families would be ripped apart by now.

"Ok, but as soon as some one asks me if I'm working staff I'm out" you joke poking at him arm, his laugh was like music to your ears. "Nobody is gonna think your working, you're too pretty to be a caterer" he says grabbing your your wrist guiding your hand into his hair. "You're too nice" you mumbled as you press more kisses to his lips.

You and Sunghoon kept the flirting, kissing, and banter going for a few more hours before the both of you realized everyone had gone home and your parents were asleep, helping Sunghoon sneak out the front door you kiss him goodnight and watch as he sneaks out of your front yard as the moon is to bear witness as he starts his car and drives off with biggest smirk on his face.

———————

You and Sunghoon had been putting great use of the landlines in your houses calling whenever you thought of each other, or had even the most minor questions to ask. A day apart felt almost empty without each other. Sunghoon decided to hang out with his friends and you would enjoy your day off with yours.

Having a day off and being home alone was like a blessing, both of your parents were at work and your grandma staying with a friend for the day, laying in your bed the sheets clean and your room neat yet just like the day before it was completely filled with smoke and the smell of weed.

"So the entire time you haven't been hanging out with us is because you've been fucking Park Sunghoon?" Mark's voice groveled as he watches Haechan blow out smoke. "Okay first of all, don't act like I didn't tell you that I wasn't giving him swimming lessons" you say pointedly "after he drowned at the pool" Haechan says not missing the main detail "right. And then you fucked him" Jaemin finally chimes in as he digs into a bag of very cheap and off brand Cheetos staining his fingers deep orange color along with crumbs all over his lips from the bean bag chair that sits on your floor.

"No! Why can't any of you prepubescent incels just be mature and let me tell the story" you groan falling back onto the pillow. "Fine, no need to be so hostile and rude" Haechan pouts as he rolls his eyes. "Since when did you know the definition of hostile? You can barely read the ingredients of a peanut butter jar" you snap.

Taking charge of diffusing the oncoming argument Mark just pats Haechan's arm in comfort knowing whatever comeback he had brewing in his head wouldn't even compete. "We've been hanging out, we kissed a few nights ago and hooked up, then yesterday we kind of went all the way. It's not that big of a deal" you say shrugging your shoulders ignoring the way your face heat up.

"So you don't have feelings for him?" Jaemin asks looking up from the large bag of chips he stole from your cabinet. "I haven't really thought that far into it. Sunghoon is a really nice guy, and I took his virginity but...doesn't it seem kind of-" you trailed off looking for the right words.

"Seem too good to be true? Rich guy from the suburbs wanting to date some girl who's broke giving up her paychecks to pay for college? And living on the worst side of town" Jaemin continues flatly as digging through his bag with low red eyes and a grin as he digs for a good chip. Making the room silent as they all look at the boy completely high off of his ass.

"What? Just because I don't always say the smartest shit doesn't mean I can't use common sense in the right moment" he meets the 3 pairs of eyes looking back at him equally as high. "Did you slip some shit that makes you smarter into that weed? Because I've never heard Jaemin be so logical" Mark mumbles to you making you snicker.

"Well he's not wrong, I just feel like there's so much more for him than me if I'm being honest. What guy from the east side would ever willingly come to the worst side of town just for a girl?" You ask looking at your three friends. "Park Sunghoon apparently. But listen honestly, if he hasn't given you a reason to give up so easily on his feelings then look into your feelings, if he's giving signs back to you that shows he's actually interested in you then take your chance" Mark says adjusting the beanie that covers his black hair.

"Since when did you dummies become so smart about dating advice?" You ask with a teasing grin you reach over messing with the tethered beanie on your friends head making him groan in faux annoyance. "You always give us dating advice why not return the favor?" Haechan says not daring to let his sarcastic and almost childish persona break.

"Yeah, remember that time you had to talk to a girl for Mark and one of YangYang's parties?" Jaemin recalls with a smirk "yeah that same party when you flirted with that guy wearing a really shitty costume wig" Mark snaps at the younger boy. "Maybe tequila and a few blunts isn't my best friend, but in my defense the dude was really pretty" Jaemin says with a shrug not even trying egg on an argument.

"Ten says thanks by the way, his ass did look pretty nice in those jeans" Haechan recalls making you snicker. "When did this go from talking about my love life to Ten being sexy with terrible Demi Moore extensions?" You say exasperated at the topic switch. "Well when is the next time you see him?" Jaemin asks as he finally lets the bag filled with practically crumbs sit on the floor. "Tomorrow...he wants me to meet his friends and go to some country club festival" you say awkwardly.

"Ew, make sure to hand out my number to the hot girl who cleans the pool, she gives me sexy eyes when I work at the snack bar" Jaemin says making you snort. "I know Christy, she has a lazy eye and I'm pretty sure her boyfriend works as a server" you snicker earning a dirty look from Jaemin.

"...anyways. Did you say yes?" Mark asks awkwardly as he picks at the dead skin around his nails that already forming scabs. "Yeah, I told him I'd go" you shrug although your expression didn't show much excitement. "Why do you look constipated?" Haechan asks with a scrunched nose.

"No I don't" you deny almost too fast you got whiplash "you do. It looks like you're gonna shit yourself. What's wrong?" Jaemin asks his eyes are finally filled with concern he's never seen you feet over something as small as a date with a guy.

"What if somebody talks about me because I live on the west side?" You ask hoping your tone didn't come off as scared or weak. "Who cares? You're going because you were invited. Nobody said you had to be rich and live in the suburbs with nice pretty houses and expensive cars to get in" Jaemin says feeling the heat of frustration warm up his body.

"You don't need to fit in with anybody, if he lets you get treated wrong then forget him. There are plenty of hot rich guys who would take you on dates" Mark says patting your shoulder. "Who knows maybe you'll get a sugar daddy" Haechan snickers making you shove him "I do not want to end up like those botched 50 year olds from the country club with a bunch of falling plastic in my face and a husband who looks like he's waiting to be put in a casket" you say almost gagging.

"Yeah whatever, those ladies are the same ones getting millions after their husband kicks the bucket" Haechan shrugs with a grin. "Seriously Hyuck I feel like absolutely nothing but dust swirls around behind your skull." You joke as the three boys surrounding you are nothing but giggles and cackles.

———————

When Monday settled you felt your stomach flutter and you had yet to decide if it was because you were genuinely excited or genuinely scared. Yet you worked your shift and could barely stare off into space without think of Sunghoon, it was like the mere sight of something made you think of him.

The 20 feet deep pool, the popsicles melting on the concrete, the pure heat, music playing from the boombox one one of the beach chairs, the smell of chlorine. Anything minor from the corner of your eyes had you thinking of Sunghoon that it almost made you cringe every time you caught yourself day dreaming.

When your shift ended you gladly locked up and went home, you took your time rummaging through your wardrobe for any semi decent clothes and only salvaging a dress you got for Easter family pictures. White, just a few inches above the knee and it fit you perfectly. You spent the rest of your time doing your hair and make up that your mom handed down to you that she no longer used.

And as time passed you couldn't help but give yourself the final touches every time you looked in the mirror or looking at the time. This wasn't your first date, to say you would have been to many would be a far stretch; saying you've attended a date and left happy, would have been a blatant lie.

Leaving your room you were quiet enough to sneak past the living room both of your parents swept away into their sleep after grueling work and long hours the TV still on and blaring. Closing and locking the door behind yourself you sit on your front porch step waiting for the familiar cherry red thunderbird. You could feel the summer nights were starting to become more cold as the months pass by.

Wrapping your arms around your shoulder hoping for the slightest inkling of body heat as some cars rhat usually stroll through the neighborhood drive through and park in their driveways or at the curb. The sight of your neighbor standing on her front porch smoking a cigarette makes you smile as the older woman looks over at you as well. "what are you doing here so late dressed like that?" She asks with a smirk, you were used to the nosiness of the woman and yet you seem to never get sick of answering any questions she has to ask.

"I'm going out with a friend, some festival going on at the country club" you say awkwardly nodding your head. The woman only makes a slight face you catch "country club? You got yourself an east side boy?" She laughs with a slight shake of her head. "It's not like that" you were quick to say although it was a lie completely, it was like that and she knew it. And it was on the top of your tongue to correct yourself but you just didn't understand why. The sound of breaks whistling at the curb of your house makes your eyes break from the sweet stare of your neighbor.

The car still running Sunghoon steps out of the drivers side walking through your grass to approach you, he looked too good to fathom his hair slick, and his clothes neat, jeans, a polo shirt that had little to no wrinkles and some white sneakers. It all fit him perfectly which earns a pretty smile out of you. "Hey, it's pretty cold you shouldn't have waited for me out here" he shakes his head with a small guilty look on his face.

"It's fine, I'm not that cold and I've only been out here maybe 5 minutes?" You says standing up trailing closer to him as he looks down at the floor he could see the goosebumps on your legs which makes him feel worse. Your hand trails to his jaw making him look up at you with soft eyes "I'm serious, I'm fine. Just turn the heat on in your car and I promise I'll be warm" you mumbled with a small grin at his concern.

"Okay" he whispered his eyes flutter over your face taking in all of your looks, you looked great, beautiful even more but he just couldn't gather the words for how breathtaking you truly looked. Instead leaning in to peck your lips "let's go, you look like your gonna start shivering any minute" he says grabbing your hand trailing you along behind him with firm steps you smile hardly remembering that your neighbor had watched your entire exchange.

Sunghoon hold the door open for you and even insists on buckling your seatbelt for you as you laugh at him. Sunghoon felt a shutter of relief when he had sat in the drivers seat and out of the corner of his eyes he could see a small grin on your face, you looked happy; and it made him feel happy.

"What are these festival things like?" You ask as you rub your hands together for some slight warmth as his car heats up. "First of all, call it a fest. You sound old calling it a festival, and it's basically like a carnival on the wide streets they have for golf carts. Uh- A lot of the kids our age ditch mid-way through to go drink at this lake" you says as he pulls away from the curb and goes his usual way towards the east side.

"The lake? What kind of preppy bullshit do they have you participating in?" You asked almost giggling at the thought of Sunghoon around a bunch of people listening to some bullshit sound track while drinking cheep booze. "And what do you and your friends do at parties?" He asks raising an eyebrow wearing a faux offended face.

"House parties, we drink, get high listen to good music and a bunch of shit that would most likely get us a night in jail" you smirk at the thought of having Sunghoon meet your friends. "That sounds...scary" he trails off with a small smile. "We have very different taste in parties I guess" you laugh.

The longer you remain in the car and look out of the windows the more you see how the areas change from garbage on the side of the street and abandoned house, to tidy houses with well kept lawns and nice cars driving down the road in the same direction.

You had realized you've never taken a close look at the East side, the houses were big of course, the white picket fences and rose bushes that were neatly planted and trimmed, the small bird baths and fountains along with huge driveways and sprinklers that coated the perfectly green glass. You were jealous, you wished that you could live in a neighborhood as beautiful and big as this one. But you were grateful for what you had and dared not to complain.

"What are you thinking about" Sunghoon asks as his eyes flicker from the road towards you, his hand settles on your thigh giving you a gentle squeeze. "Have you ever wished you weren't rich?" You ask pensively ripping your eyes away from the window and over to the brunette boy. "I wonder would life would be like. But wish I wasn't? I don't think I have no." He says as he tries to think of a time only coming up blank.

"Why?" He asks also becoming quite curious with the topic. "I don't know, I realized that I wish I wasn't low class but I've never heard someone who's rich say they've never wished to be rich" you shrug as your hand gently lays on top of Sunghoon's you rub comforting circles on his skin. "Doesn't everyone wish to be rich? I mean sure you live comfortably and get damn near whatever you want. But no one ever talks about how lonely it is" he trails off.

"Do you feel lonely?" You ask as you feel his hand grip yours tighter. "No, not anymore" he whispers. The car ride was so quiet and tense that Sunghoon almost drove past the entrance to get in. And when you made it to the parking lot of a packed Carnival you knew this date would be fun.

The both of you get out of the car and walk into the crowds of people, keeping close you could feel Sunghoon's large hand on your lower back as the both of you point and look around for things you want to do.

"How about we get on a rollercoaster first do we know what we're dealing with yeah?" He asks as he tears his eyes from the large ride that was spinning and carrying kids of all ages screaming their heads off. "Yeah, that sounds like fun" you smile up at him, pointing in the direction of the big ride.

"You wanna get on this ride? I mean if you're scared or anything we can get on something else" he says as you both walk closer "I'm sure" you nod with a smile on your lips watching as kids spill from the exit gate looking pale and sick.

"Really? Like you're 100% sure?" He asks his voice going up in pitch making you laugh "Hoon if you're scared to ride it then you don't have to get on it with me" you said laughing it up.

He scoffs as he straightens his posture "I'm not a kid y/n I can handle some stupid 5-minute ride that spins" he rolls his eyes dramatically making you smile "if you say so. But if you throw up on this ride I think we can get on the kiddy rides" you say with a big smile that has your eyes almost closing which has his heart fluttering.

"Whatever. But just know, I won't because I'm a man and I can handle a stupid ride" he says once again making you shake your head as the ride conductor opens the gate letting people on the ride and taking their tickets.

And as the two of you got on you see that only a few spots were left the both of you right beside each other as you press your backs to the cold rusting metal you push the bar below your waist close and grip onto the handles. "Is this safe? I mean there are no straps or anything" he says from beside you as he grips the metal bars that seemed to have chipped away red paint.

"We'll be moving too fast to even move hoon besides they have a bar holding down our waists, we're gonna be fine. And- if you want you can hold my hand until it's over" you say as you watch the worker close the gate to the ride taking the safety precautions before going into the control booth.

"I'm only taking your hand because you'll probably be scared. I don't need to hold your hand like a kid" he says scoffing as he repeatedly tries to put up a brave front while he was practically screaming his head off on the inside. His large hand grips yours over the bar turning his head to see you already looking at him with a fond smile.

"What?" He asks with a soft smile "you're scared" you coo making his jaw slack as he's ready to defend himself which makes you smile even wider as the dramatic and intense music of the ride plays and small lights flash. "It's about to start! Aren't you excited?!" You ask almost jumping with joy to see the nauseous look on his face.

"Sure" he nods as he closes his eyes and lets his head fall back he was stressed out and the ride hadn't even moved yet. His grip on your hand becomes tighter once he feels the ride begin to slowly move and he can hear the old gears and screws sputter. "Oh god" he whispers to himself.

He feels his heart flip at the sound of your screaming and laughing, and when he opens his eyes he can't help but smile and laugh at your wide eyes while the wind flows your hair wildly the yellow bright lights from the carnival rides around you lighting up your face. He laughs as he sees your head toss back in sheer delight, he realized the ride wasn't so bad after all.

And when it was over he was dizzy and lovesick. And as the both of you walk out of the small exit gate you stop eyeing all of the stands and trucks with food and games.Sunghoon could see how your eyes light up at the water guns game and it makes him smile. "Let's go play that game" he says grabbing your hand and gently tugging you along.

As the both of you stood in line you could see a pack of middle aged women eyeing you and Sunghoon making you step closer towards him. Your eye catches how one of them mumbled and you could only read lips so well. "You okay? We're up next and I was calling your name" Sunghoon says as he tilts his head down to see where your eyes had been latched to.

Once he does he sees the small glare the woman gives him and he almost gave one back if it weren't for the man behind the counter asking for 2 tickets from you. Handing them over Sunghoon completely let's the thought of the judgmental women go. "Im going to kick your ass at this game" you smirk at your attempt to rile him up which makes him look over at you with narrow eyes "and why is that?" He asks with a sharp tone.

"I was a bad ass kid, my friends had little pellet guns and we'd shoot them at cans and bottles, anything we could find. I accidentally put a pellet through this poor old woman's window. I felt so bad I knocked on her door and cried apologizing" you say with a grin at the memory. "You were a horrible child!" Sunghoon bursts into a fit of laughter.

Sunghoon caught whim of it as you both sit on the stools in front of the booth. The woman behind the booth smiles as she states the rules, counting down the both of you hearing the ring that urges you to start. And just as you presumed your aim was really good, hitting the target you saw the balloon over the top of it filling up with water.

Sunghoon shouts as he struggles to aim the water where he needs making you laugh as his balloon is barely filled with water. "If you want I can help you," you say loudly over the noises of people around you. "I can still win, I don't need your help" he sassed you which makes you giggle at his stubbornness.

When your balloon popped and a loud ringing sound to determine you had won making sunghoon laugh at how you shot out of your chair shouting in celebration. "I told you I'd win," you say as you pat his shoulders "whatever, I just let you win because you were so excited" he drags out his words as he rolls his eyes dramatically.

"Just admit you have shit aim, and I beat you fair and square," you say as you arch a brow at him he only shakes his head "we'll just have to see after this when I beat you at the next game," he says with a casual shrug only making you shake your head. You turn towards the woman at the stand smiling at your bickering.

"Choose whatever stuffed animal you want," she says as she points a wooden staff at the toys hung up along a small wire. "The big penguin" you smile as you point to it with shimmering eyes which makes Sunghoon's brows furrow as he remembers you looking at the teddy bear.

The woman handing it off to you as Sunghoon pays, you see him turn to look at you "I won you this" you hold it out for him to take wide eyes peering up at him for a reaction. "What? It's your prize, why don't you just keep it?" He asks shaking his head "because it reminded me of you so I wanted to give it to you" you smile. Most girls remember guys when they win them stuffed animals, but you- you won Sunghoon a stuffed animal and he'd cherish it with his whole heart.

"You didn't have to. I saw you looking at the teddy bear, so I thought you'd get it for yourself" he says as he gently takes the plushie from your hands holding it to his chest and squeezing it. "I felt bad, you've paid for everything we've done today. I just thought this was the least I could do" you say softly making him practically melt.

Everything about you made Sunghoon feel fuzzy. How your eyes crinkle when you laugh, how you had birthmarks and moles littering your pretty skin, how you looked breathtaking underneath the colorful lights all over the place, even after you got on a ride your hair tussled and you didn't even bother to fix it because regardless you still looked good.

"Hoon! Hey, everybody's going to the lake in about 10 or 20 minutes so hurry up and say hi to your parents we passed them on the way here" Jake says as he suddenly passes through the crowd and continues to shuffle pass only sparing you a mere glance. You didn't take it to heart and just decided that it was in your best interest to get Sunghoon close to his parents.

"Come on, I don't think you've met my dad or sister yet and there here tonight. So let's go say hi before we leave" he says patting your butt gently making your hand slap his away with a small yelp. The both of you bicker as Sunghoon tries to Navigate through the flocks of younger kids and parents while teenagers around your age were already packing up to head down to the lake a few blocks closer to the west side but still managed to have landed on the east side.

Eventually you and Sunghoon come to a halt in front of a bench in front of Sunghoon's mother and two unfamiliar faces. "We haven't seen you in a few hours where have you been?" Mrs. Park asks failing to look in your direction. "I was at Jay's with everyone else and then when I went home everybody was gone. So I got ready and I picked up Y/n" Sunghoon says lifting your interlinked hands.

"Y/n? You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend Hoon" his dad says with a grin almost too proud of his son as his eyes meets yours you couldn't help but smile back. "She's not my girlfriend...um we're really good friends. She gives me swimming lessons" He says almost shyly. Your eyes flicker towards his mother seeing an almost relieved expression wash over her face.

"Really? That great. Thank you for helping my son" Mr.Park says as he grins at you. "Y/n lives on the west side and she works for the community pool honey" Mrs.Park days and you don't have a clue why but you felt a bit ashamed. "She sounds very hard working" Mr. Park says not even relishing much on what side of town you reside on which made you smile.

"Thank you, i can only work harder with the right motivation" you say nodding firmly. You could feel his moms eyes burn holes through you. "Sorry, i completely forgot to introduce myself. I'm Seojun, Sunghoon's father and this is Sooyun his sister" he says wrapping an arm around his daughter who seemed to have no interest in the conversation.

"Its nice to finally meet you both Sunghoon has mentioned you both lots" you smile even though in Sunghoon's eyes he could tell they it was very empty. Sunghoon had never formed a bond with his dad and it was already too much to unpack as it is, but he knew you were too polite to direct any sense of anger toward his father for his own sake.

"Good things I hope" Mr.Park chuckles back as you open your mouth Sunghoon doesn't let whatever slither of attitude you were ready to slip as he interrupts "I just wanted to check in before we head over to the lake" Sunghoon says making you look at him almost flabbergasted at how honest he is with his parents. "The lake so soon? I thought you'd stay for a while longer to treat your sister to a few games" Mrs. Park says a sickeningly sweet voice with an undertone of bitterness.

"Sooyun will be fine she's old enough to walk around with her friends and play games" Sunghoon tries to reason, though if it weren't for the fact that you and him were on an unofficial date or the fact that his sister was an utter nightmare when their parents weren't around he would agree to be at least 30 minutes late to a kick back. But just not this time.

"I'll be fine alone. Plus all of my friends don't come to these things" Sooyun says with flat tone speaking for the first time since you've arrived. "It's not like they could afford to be here" Mrs.Park snaps under her breath making Sooyun roll her eyes at the implication that her friends were poor.

Biting back the snarky remarks running through your mind your eyes trail over Mrs.Park as you see a glimmering necklace around her neck that looked too expensive for you to even touch. "Your necklace is beautiful Mrs.Park how much did it cost?" You ask with a faux sweet tone that just feeds the older woman's ego. "It was a gift from my mother in law and it was about 3,000? Dollars" she says as her hands clutch the necklace as she eyes you up.

"Right....well we don't wanna keep Jake and everyone waiting on us so we'll get going" Sunghoon says as he rests his hand on your waist tugging you close. "Well we probably won't be home until pretty late since we're watching the fireworks so use the house key" Me.Park says as the both of you slowly step away. Sunghoon only nods his head as the both of you disappear through the crowd.

————————

Sunghoon wasn't really in the mood for the lake, the loud music, the drunk people and offers for drugs that made you think about shifting to an entirely different universe. The both of you sit in his car the parking lot was practically filled to the brim. And although Sunghoon would love for you to meet his friends maybe the lake wasn't the best place for that.

"How about we skip the party and go home?" Sunghoon asks as you readjusted yourself in your seat. "Home?" You ask looking at him with curious eyes. "My home, we could go late night swimming or we could just watch a movie in my room. Doesn't matter" he shrugs putting the keys into the ignition and hearing it roar to life.

The warm air blowing through the AC calms down the goosebumps on your skin. "I don't have a swimming suit though" you say the cluelessness in your tone makes Sunghoon smile at you "we don't need them" he says leaning over the middle console his large hand finding the juncture of your neck.

"It's up to you what we do, I don't mind anything" he mumbled as he rubs soothing circles into your skin with his thumb. "I'll let you know when I made up my mind" you whisper with a small nod. Sunghoon leans in for a soft kiss to your lips that you didn't hesitate to reciprocate. Feeling as the kiss gets more heated Sunghoon's hands trail into your hair making a mess of it that you didn't mind in the least.

Moaning into the kiss softly your hand wraps around his wrist as you pull away from the kiss slowly watch Sunghoon chase your lips. "We better leave now before I decide that we fuck in this parking lot" you huff with a smitten smile written all over your face. Sunghoon laughs pressing his forehead to yours "okay" he huffs nearly out of breath from the intense kiss he longed to share with you again.

Both of you sit in your seats tucked away in your seatbelts you clutched the plushie you had won in your hand as the radio plays. The drive back to Sunghoon's was significantly quiet yet soothing, without you even noticing how his hand settled on your thigh as he drives father into the east side where all the houses seem the same but you knew by heart exactly which house Sunghoon lived in, it was almost like a second home to you, walking in when no one was home but Sunghoon and immediately walking through his home to the back yard was second nature at this point.

As Sunghoon pulls into the driveway you feel a shift in the weather from slightly cold and windy to warm. Turning his car off the both of you get out. The rattling of Sunghoon's keys and your shoes making friction with his gravel driveway was all that could be heard. Unlocking the front door the houses is dark yet the only light peaking out was the large fish tank situated in the living room. The soft flow of water ringing loud enough for both of you to hear.

"I wanna swim" you say simply almost whispering as though you had to be quiet when you didn't. Nodding Sunghoon reaches for you hand in the dark, his fingers interlock with yours the dim light of the fish tank guiding the both of you through the living room and into the even darker kitchen where Sunghoon slides open the door you always struggle to.

The air nips at your skin sending a slight chill up your body but that doesn't keep you from removing your shoes and socks, Sunghoon was so enraptured with the way the reflection of the pool graces your pretty skin. Not daring to look away from you Sunghoon watches as you unzip the back of your dress letting it slip down your figure on to the concrete. The sound of rustling fabric was like utter back ground sounds as he continues to watch you.

This felt like something straight of Sunghoon's wet dreams as you unclip your bra letting fall down beside your dress. And what Sunghoon would do just to touch your body right now, trying extensively to not get hard from just watching you strip in front of him. Getting completely lost in his mind he misses the way you kick your panties onto of your discarded dress and slowly trail towards the stairs that descends straight into the warm water of the pool.

Your eyes finally meet Sunghoon's piercing gaze with the most innocent look on your face. "Are you not coming?" You ask as you let yourself soak into the water the deeper you step in. The water sloshing around your naked body brings Sunghoon back down to earth as he opens his mouth to say something yet not trusting his own voice he nods dreamily just barely blinking warning a soft smile from you.

Kicking off his shoes he eagerly strips off his shirt unbuckles the belt looped in his pants letting it clank to the ground without a second thought he strips of his pants. Coming to an internal conflict of if he could fully strip down to nothing like you or would that have made you uncomfortable.

From the corner of his eye Sunghoon sees you peaking over the edge of the pool leaning your arms against the concrete tucking your head against them. "What are you doing?" You ask looking up at him with lust hungry eyes. "I don't know if I should take these off or not- I don't want to make you uncomfortable" he says awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck.

"You wouldn't make me uncomfortable, we've already seen each other naked, remember?" You say as you let out a breathy giggle that almost makes Sunghoon visibly shutter. "Yeah- right" he says shyly as you shift away from the edge, drifting off into the middle of the pool kicking your feet as you watch Sunghoon strip out of his last piece of clothing before he flushed a deep shade of red as he fidgets his way towards the pool.

Stepping slowly into the warm water until he's waist deep Sunghoon watches as you were farther from him than he'd like you to be. But Sunghoon knew you weren't too far away a few inches from being in the deep end and yet your presence alone made him press his luck. Shifting closer with slow steps Sunghoon was now shoulder length deep into the pool the both of you an arms length away.

Not shying away in the slightest you decided to close the gap, your arms wrap around his neck as your naked chest presses against his. "Hi" you whisper with a small grin. Sunghoon can't help but to smirk at you "hi, did you have fun?" His pupils burning over your figure as he questions you. He pined for your answer to be positive, he'd hate for what felt like a first date to end up being terrible on your end when all night you had made him felt fuzzy, shy, and giggly all over.

"Yeah I did, you?" You ask, Sunghoon couldn't explain the feeling he had in his chest looking down at your bare wet figure pressed against his with those pretty doe eyes flickering to search his face for a hint of hesitation. But that's just when he knew, he felt it, it's exactly how it was described in books, like how your mom told him. It all just fell into place, he felt like the world came crashing in on him in seconds.

Nodding his head in a daze his lips parting as his eyes flutter down towards your lips, his long eyelashes tickling his skin every time he blinks hoping not to miss a single feature of your face. As many times as Sunghoon has seen you; at your job, at school, in your bed, during sex, nodding off into a sleepy daze, bored, pouting, upset, he could never get over just how beautiful you looked.

No relapse in judgement could take away just how much even the slightest flutter in your eyelashes could make his heart shutter a breath of relief and his stomach twist with what felt like butterflies going crazy in his stomach. It just couldn't be helped, because Sunghoon bared feelings deep in his chest that it almost hurt to know that you weren't official nor have you talked about labels. But he wanted you beyond just as a sexual partner. He wanted you as his girlfriend, his lover, his best friend, his rock. His.

"You okay? Your going blank on me hoon" you mumbled feeling his warm breath Sunghoon doesn't answer as he closes the gap between your faces, pressing his soft lips against yours, almost immediately reacting your fingers card through his hair tugging softly at the roots. Groaning against your lips Sunghoon slowly guides your back towards the tiled walls hearing the water trickle around you both at the sudden movements you make.

Lifting your leg against his hip makes you gasp. Finally catching your breath you meet his gaze "you sure we should be doing this out here?" You ask just above a whisper. "It only matters if you want to, I don't mind. I could do you in the kitchen, the living room, in the hallways, the bathroom. You pick" his voice rumbles making your quiver at the sudden surge of confidence in his voice.

You don't know where the sudden domineering Sunghoon came from but you liked it. "Here. I wanna do it here" you say breathily as you press your lips to his so eager to kiss him once more. The trickling sound of water and your lips messily smacking against each others filled your ears as you grow needy for friction regardless of being waist deep in water you could feel slick begin to build in between your folds.

The warmth becoming a sticky mess that began to make you rut your hips against him. The feeling of his cock making friction with your clit makes you moan softly into the kiss as your teeth and tongues thrash. The passion was overwhelming yet an understatement, the both of you so eager to feel each other you had no idea how much longer kissing and grinding into each other would get you off.

"Fuck, I wanna feel you so bad" Sunghoon groans as his tongue swipes against yours utterly in love with the way you taste sweet and minty. "Please" you whisper you couldn't even put into words what you wanted to do to him yet he found out exactly what he wanted to do with you.

His fingers slide between your thighs as the pads rub between your folds making you shiver at the pleasure. Biting your lip you couldn't decide wether to look up at him or where his hands had been. His middle finger rubbing against your entrance makes you let out a low groan as he slowly pushes inside of you.

Sunghoon moans at the feeling of you; warm and wet wrapped around his finger. Though you were wet he couldn't deny how easy it was to slip inside you. "So fucking messy" he grumbled "please make me cum" you whimpered completely disregarding how desperate you sound your hands settle on his shoulder as your nails dig into his soft skin.

Biting his bottom lip Sunghoon begins to thrust his digits into you with a pattern that has you grinding your hips into his hand. Adding another finger as the intensity of pleasure builds your moans become less breathy and more louder. The sound of the water rippling around Sunghoon's arm between your thighs and the motions building up pace makes you grip the hair on the base of his neck.

you breathily moaned his name and that made him piston his fingers in and out of you faster and curling them to hit your g-spot. the beginning of your orgasm beginning to build deep in your stomach. "your fingers feel so good, fuck," you moan. He smiles at you, beginning to curl his fingers instead. "fuck" you gasp. "keep doing that, oh god," you moan, gripping his arm as you try rolling your hips. He smirks at you, moving them slightly faster in a curling motion.

Barely keeping your eyes open at the point as they roll back the familiar feeling you get every time you have sex with Sunghoon begin building in the pit of your stomach "your gonna make me cum" you whine your jaw slacks as you feel fuzzy, your hips as uncomfortable at this point. "Do it, all over my fingers" he moans almost as breathless as you are driven by your moans as the water around you splashes rapidly the both of you too wrapped up in the pleasure to even care.

Your head dropping to his shoulder the coil in your stomach snapping as you release, a hoarse moan rips through your throat as you feel almost high on the pleasure his hands never stop their pace until your thighs shake and you hiss at the pain of overstimulation. Your hand grips his wrist begging for him to give you a break; complying Sunghoon slowly pulls out and let's you catch your breath watching you relax against him as your body slowly becomes relaxed.

Kissing his shoulder and neck Sunghoon smiles faintly pulling at the back of your neck for the both of you to become face to face your eyes clash with a look you had never seen before. All too unfamiliar needy but for sex it was a completely unexplored feeling and you aren't too sure if it's the way his hair sexily falls fast it's once slick back style or the way his pupils are blown out but either way you couldn't get enough of it.

His lips catch yours roughly, his tongue now licking a stripe on your bottom lip begging for access, parting your lips, his tongue immediately brushing against yours, mixing your saliva. As you suck on his tongue the remnants of mint on his tongue. His hand pulling at your thigh for you to now be carried like a fucking feather.

Your legs wrapped around his waist you feel his dick poking at your thigh. With utterly no space between the both of you it felt like your own personal wet dream with your lips latched onto each other as your tangled in each others limbs with no intention to break apart any time soon. Hiking you up high against his waist you moan at the feeling of him pressing his tip against your folds groaning at the warm and wet feeling.

Your back pressing against the harsh tile on your skin leaving a slippery texture on your back you would almost be sick at the feeling but pay no mind as your too caught up in wanting to return the favor to even care. Kissing the corner of his lips you trail to his neck sucking harshly on soft skin pushing in past your entrance the pressure of him filling you up begins as you both let out soft moans not caring how late or even where you're located for another fact.

His hands move to either side of your thighs as he looks down on you with complete adoration in his eyes. Pushing deeper inside you he lets out a moan "fuck you feel so good" he says as he catches his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"You're so big" you slur seeing how good he filled you up to the brim your arms wrap around his neck your foreheads pressed together as you watch him begin to slowly move. Sunghoon couldn't get enough of the sight as his cock disappeared inside your Pussy.

His cock buried deep inside you that you moan and dig crescent shaped dents into his skin. set a pace for bouncing in his lap. The feeling of your velvety walls tightening around making him choke back a moan.

"Oh- god" you whisper shakily. His hands holding onto your hips guiding a pace, the soft sound of skin slapping with your small moans could be heard throughout the room.

You looked so good with your chest bouncing and your hair all messy. You looked good with a small sheen of sweat on your skin and your makeup smeared, he was addicted to the sight. The droplets of water that splash your skin and race back down onto his looks almost addictive under the moonlight.

Sunghoon; eager to let his load off inside you, holds your thighs stopping you from bouncing any longer and begins to thrust his hips into you. The feeling of his tip pushing at your cervix.

His hips piston into you as your thighs and ass jiggle at the repetitive thrusts "right there!" You moan as you feel him pounding in a certain part of your walls. You tighten around him as your essence forms a white ring around the base of his dick.

"Just like that! I just want you to come inside me" you babble mindlessly as his stomach churns at the words spewing out. Letting one of your thighs drop back to the floor carrying half your weight Sunghoon piston's his hips harder into you at your dirty words.

"Yeah? Want me to fill you up with my cum?" he groans as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten and Sunghoon's death grip on the fat of your thigh almost sends you over the edge if it wasn't for how hard he was pounding you.

You nod eagerly as you begin to alternate between grinding and sitting still, your nails drag against his back leaving behind a red and irritated trail- yet he didn't mind it as it pushed him closer to his orgasm.

Leaning into him , your moans against each other's lips push you closer and closer. Your back is arching as you move faster wanting to cum so badly "keep going. Don't stop" he groaned, letting his head fall back. The splashing of the water and the sound of your wet skin smacking mf was making Sunghoon dizzy, he had no idea he could have this type of effect.

His hair messily pushed against his forehead as it was covered in sweat and water as his eyes rolled back "god I'm gonna cum" he said breathily "I want you to look at me when you cum" He says opening his eyes looking up at you.

You nod as you let your moans fall past your lips, the sensation building more and more until it became to overwhelming you gasp "I'm gonna cum" you whine as your hips pound more hastily into him, his moans mixed with yours as he drowned in the feeling of your walls spasming around him pushing him completely over the edge.

"Fuck" he groaned as warm spurts of cum filled you, grinding down and letting the cum spill past your walls and down the base of his cock you hum as your content with your orgasm. Humming at the warm feeling you now realize you've basically contaminated the entire pool with sweat and cum and slick making you visibly shutter.

"You okay?" Sunghoon asks groggily making you shake your head "we got the pool dirty" you mumble against his skin feeling bad now for having sex in his families pool. "It's okay, I'll clean it in the morning and nobody will know alright?" He says hoping to clear your guilty conscience. "Okay. Can we...get out now this actually starts to feel gross now" you groan as the smell of sex and chlorine comes in waves. Only nodding his head you and Sunghoon untangle from each other deciding to get out of the pool and collect your clothing.

Making it back in the house and into the bathroom to share a bath almost so intimate washing each others bodies with lingering touches and small kisses. The intimate atmosphere drags on until the both of you lay in bed the darkness engulfing Sunghoon's bedroom as you both slipped under the sheets giggling at the conversation you two couldn't directly keep a solid topic for. Mumbling into each others skin you both fall asleep not even waiting for anyone to come home.

Later in the night Sunghoon's shuffling wakes you up out of your sleep as his elbow digs into your rib cage awkwardly making you cringe. Pulling away you look at the big red numbers on the digital clock burning your eyes as you see it was now well past midnight making you panic.

Shaking Sunghoon's arm "hoon... get up I have work in the morning" you mumbled in a panicked voice. He was like dead weight his hands tightening against the fabric of his shirt on your body. "Hoon get up I have to go home" you wriggle becoming more frustrated with the sleeping boy. Managing to escape from his heavy grasp slipping back into the bathroom just down the hall of his bed room deciding to be quiet in case someone decided to wake up.

Making it back into his room you see the lamp in his bedroom on as he waits for you on the edge of his bed fighting sleep. "What are you doing?" He asks grumbling almost pouty that you were gone for so long "I went to the bathroom, but hoon I have to go home I have work early" you whisper making Sunghoon shake his head. "Why can't I just drop you off in the morning? It's so late" he says grumpily.

"You're forgetting the part where my parents think I'm home right now" you say as of it's the most obvious fact in the world. Sunghoon only groans as he drags himself out of the sheets to find his sweat pants that had been tossed to the floor and his t-Shirt that had been hanging over his one shoulder.

You could only smile softly at how messy Sunghoon slept yet he some how still manages to wake up looking as perfect as he does. He ensures that you make it home and go through the backyard door that's always unlocked before going home and falling back into a comforting silence until sunlight seeps through the curtains.

——————

The hard knocking on Sunghoon's bedroom door wakes him slightly until the hoarse voice of his mother has his brows pinching together. "Sunghoon! Have you seen my necklace? I've been looking for it all morning" Mrs.Parks Voice is worried and it feels like Sunghoon's head had been splashed in cold water. "No. Have you checked between the slot of your dresser and the metal the holds your jewelry?" He asks his voice still deep and scratchy.

"Of course it would've been the first place I looked, I even checked behind the dressed. I remember putting it back last night Sunghoon I'm not crazy" Mrs.Park sounds stressed and it makes Sunghoon altogether get out of bed to finally face the look on his mothers face.

He rubs at the corner of his eyes. "Mom, I'm gonna help you look in the places you have and haven't" before closing the door and changing into more suitable clothes.

The longer it take Sunghoon to find the necklace the more fussy he becomes trying to find any alternatives as to why and how his mom could misplace such a pretty necklace that was so expensive and dead to her. "Hoon, did you have anyone over last night?" Mrs Park asks as she eyes the boy who leans face down against the carpeted walk in closet trying to see if it called under Meath her dresser of jewelry.

"Y/n for a couple of hours why?" He asks who h makes Mrs.Park scoff. Of course it was you, it's always you. Mrs.Park knows about girls like you from the west side. Asking for money, smoking and drinking, sinking your claws into poor boys like Sunghoon to ruin themselves beyond repair.

"Before she left did you leave her alone?"

Sunghoon's throat ran dry, he felt like he could throw up any second. "What time did you come home?" Sunghoon asks coldly remembering waking up around 2AM just to get you home safely "midnight" she says as she watched Sunghoon sit up on his knees with a blank expression. "We fell asleep and I woke up and she was gone for a few minutes. After she came back I took her home" Sunghoon says his memory still foggy from the events after sex.

Mrs.Park bitterly laughs "fucking thief" her tongue pokes her cheek as she presumes right once again that you were no good along. "Call her and get my necklace back. I don't need her selling it to some shop on the west side for some quick change" She snarks and Sunghoon felt his blood boil.

His skin was prickling with anger his neck and and ears were red he couldn't help the immediate reaction he felt so sick. His heart wrenched. He couldn't explain it but it felt like he was going to cry. Sunghoon wobbledonot his feet and looks at his mom hoping the tight feeling in his throat and the stinging in his eyes wouldn't fester any further around his mom he only complies with the request with a nod before walking to his bedroom.

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And so he waited, he waited until your shift was over. He cleaned his room, the pool, the bathroom. He tried to rid himself of the thought of you as the only question running through his mind was 'how could you?' How could you steal from his mom? How could you pretend like you didn't in front of his face? How could you use him like that?

It was wearing him down like a ton of bricks but he anticipated your arrival when his house was empty and you had just got off your shift. Hitching a ride from Mark who had spent the day at the pool with you as it was a slow day for you at the pool. When you get out of the car you have a smile on your face watching as the blue worn out BMW pulls off with the base vibrating the entire exterior.

Surprised to see Sunghoon on the front porch waiting for you the look on his face makes yours shift nervously. Regardless you step onto the front porch leaning in you attempt to press a kiss to his lips only landing on his cheek as he moves away his expression still stone cold. "Hey...what's the matter?" You whisper your mood dampening at the bitter look on his face.

"You stole from me" he says plainly almost giving you whiplash. "Excuse me?" You ask backing away from standing on the gravel pathway that leads to his house from the front gate and sidewalk. "My moms necklace. Last night you complimented it, and came back here with me. You slept with me and did all of these things with me knowing that at the end of the night you were just going to fucking steal from me" he says harshly.

You feel your face heat up with confusion written all over your expression "What the fuck are you talking about? What necklace? Sunghoon I didn't steal shit from you I already told you I don't steal" you feel your voice becoming harsher at the accusations he tossed at you. "So you disappear while I'm sleep and then all of sudden you come back demanding to go home. I'm not fucking stupid it all just points to you Y/n" he says finally standing to his feet.

"Are you fucking joking?! Please tell me you are Sunghoon and that necklace is in your moms bedroom because if it's not and your being serious right now then we're done" you say feeling emotions begin to surface as you point shakily at his front door. Sunghoon felt like he was back at the community pool where you first met like he wanted to cry, annoyed, scared his eyes began to sting once more.

"I'm not. You even complimented her on it. The least you could now that your caught is give it back unless your living up to your west side reputation. Surrounded by thief's so you live like one? I knew you didn't have a lot of money but- fuck if you were that desperate you could've said something" he snaps and just like that he was back in the deep end.

Clawing his way back to the surface to feel the warm sun on skin again to breath the fresh air. Right now he was almost at rock bottom and the look on your face read with disbelief and anger. "I didn't steal your moms necklace. I don't need it nor do I want it. Every dollar I've ever made I worked for and you couldn't say the same but since we're bringing up lying let's not forget when you said all rich people aren't douche bags but I see you just say anything to feel like less of a spoiled fucking brat" you spat the feeling of a sob ready to wrack through your chest.

You refused to let him see you cry, not when he had thrown how much money you earn in your face. "You don't get to act like the victim! You stole from my house!" Sunghoon says his voice cracks with pure anger and it sends you over the edge. "You know what?we're done. But once you find that necklace I hope it rusts and turns your moms skin green because I never fucking wanted it in the first place. Trust me Sunghoon you won't have to worry about anything else going missing in your big fancy fucking house ever again because I will never step near it again" your voice is hoarse as you step backwards and turn on your heel now regretting letting Mark leave without you.

"There was no we" he spats realizing he was not wining the argument "sleeping with you was a fucking mistake but I guess west side girls will do anything for money. My mom never lied"he scoffs. He doesn't mean it, not a single word yet he does it to get under you skin when knows later that's it's truly over he sounds so pretentious and privileged.

Then remember the heavy bag on your shoulder filled with his clothes you cleaned. Stopping in your tracks you feel Sunghoon's eyes burn through your figure. Pulling it off your shoulder you snatch open the zipper tugging out the pile of fabric in the bag and toss them at the tall boy. "Don't worry about the clothes you gave me because at least I'm returning the things I did take" You mutter hearing the fabric fall to the concrete.

You waste no time turning back around not sparing a second glance at him before storming out of his yard no longer trying to fight the silent tears or anger that slip down your face as you walk the way that you knew would usually get you out of the east side and the nearest route back home.

Everything around you felt like a stuffy blur as tears streak your face, rubbing your eyes raw with the back of your hands each time you felt tears streak at the corner of your eyes until it became sore. The woke home was filled with soft cries, you felt like you had just broken up with Sunghoon when the two of you weren't even dating. Your chest hurt and you just felt the need to shatter something into the same amount of prices your heart had shattered.

The second you came home to an empty house you stomp up the steps to your bedroom slamming the door shut behind you letting it echo. You could feel the heat of your body go beyond any level you've felt before as your tears become harder to control. Your eyes landing on the large book case of music CD's and albums without a second thought you let a scream ripple through your throat as you rip each and every last one of the cases from the shelf dropping the floor you can hear some of them cracking and shattering at the unbraced impact with the hard floor.

You were angry and annoyed but most of all you were heart broken. You wanted to punch Sunghoon in his face for not believing you, you wanted to tell at him for making you feel this way and yet all you can do is curl into a ball on your floor not even making it to your bed. Surrounded by broken plastic you can't even feeling the pain in your fingers at the cuts you've gotten from breaking apart plastic so hardly and tossing them at your walls.

You breathe heavily as tears drip down the side of your face into a depressing puddle. Huffing away until your sleep the floor ultimately was not too uncomfortable to sleep in your own mess as the warm sticky blood on your fingers dry into scabs and your tears dry away. You couldn't bare to stay awake the entire day and relive your anger and heart break.

——————

"Let me get this straight... you accused her of stealing your moms necklace and the next day your sister came home with it" Jay says with a deep look of concentration on his face Sunghoon was distraught he had made what seems like the worlds dumbest fucking mistake in his eyes "yes" he says tiredly rubbing his eyes of the tears he had been letting slip past his eyelashes all day.

He knew if anybody would have good advice it would be Jay, he was his rock and anytime Sunghoon needed help without a doubt he'd turn to Jay for the right direction he should go in. "What made you doubt her?" He asks and the question almost stuns Sunghoon.

"I don't know... for a while I just had a feeling it was too good to be true and I didn't want to think she did but then I couldn't help but think she did. My mom just- she had a solid argument" he says but Jay wasn't content with his answer.

"I'm going to be completely honest with you right now. I think you were just searching for a reason to end it, you like her and you've never gone beyond hook ups and the first time you did you were happy but you don't know if the feelings are returned so you're scared" Jay says his voice is stern and it doesn't come as a complete shock. "I never said I had feelings for her Jay" Sunghoon says under his breath making Jay scoff.

"You don't have to say it, it's fucking obvious and in everyone's face. The last few times we've hung out you couldn't shut up about her; you were like a puppy who lost it's owner and would do anything to get back to them once again it's fucking sick." Jay says not toning down the attitude. "And from the sounds of it your mom just doesn't like her. She's a control freak she doesn't want anyone or anything like a girl who doesn't live up to her standards to be who your slumming it with her son and ruining the image she took so long to build of your family" he points out.

"She saw an opportunity to tear her from your grip and she did. You were just dumb enough to let your mom of all people cloud your judgement on someone you've been spending 2 months with" Jay pats Sunghoon's leg as they both sit on the edge of the pool at country club Sunghoon couldn't bare to go to the community pool when he knew you'd be there.

"I just don't want to let her down. All these years I've been following whatever my mom and dad want. My moms never been wrong with her choices so I just thought how could she be wrong about this one?" He questions himself. Sunghoon thinks back to when the both of you talked at the pool and you had called him a mama's boy, and now he heard it in his own thoughts and feelings.

"Sooner or later Sunghoon you're going to have to stop depending on your parents to make choices for you. Right now, is one of those times. Your mom doesn't get to pick and choose who you do and don't date especially when I'd damn near say you're in love with y/n" Jay says and it makes Sunghoon's stomach flutter. Groaning he lets his hands rake through his hair as he thinks deeply.

"Talk to her, apologize and make sure she knows how sorry you are" Jay says patting Hoon's shoulder giving him minimum comfort. Sunghoon knew this was tough love and that Jay couldn't do anything for Sunghoon even if he really wished he could. The silence was overbearing. "I meant right now Sunghoon. Get up and go apologize the fucking sun is gonna go down soon and who knows if she'll be at work by the time you realize it" Jay snaps making Sunghoon let out a mantra of complaints.

—————

The pool was empty yet the cleaning supplies had still been set out. Sunghoon could see a trail of wet foot prints lead into the staff building making his eyes narrow. The sound of rumbling and hushed talking makes Sunghoon walk slowly yet quietly towards the blue painted building.

The door was shut and from what Sunghoon could make out past the old rusted door what sounded to be grunts and muffled moans, the sticky sound of skin slapping makes Sunghoon sick to his stomach. You cleaned up after hours every week, was this what you were doing the entire time lessons took place at his house?

Taking guys just like him and fucking them in the staff building. Just the thought makes his skin crawl, Sunghoon didn't even know if he could even be angry with you after he broke off whatever the two of you were. But he thought you felt the same, the longing touches, the kisses, the flirting, meeting each others parents. You took his virginity and left with his heart, now your were back to fucking other people after 2 days?

Sunghoon feels it again he's drowning in his feelings once more, his tears fester and build until they blur his line of sight he couldn't even put into words how devastated he was. It hurt when the two of you were arguing face to face, but moving past the anger and finally knowing the truth Sunghoon was ready to throw his pride away completely and beg for forgiveness.

But it seemed like you had already moved on with life and would be just fine. Sunghoon's feet drag across the concrete not paying attention to anything, everything seemed so blurred and his body felt heavy. Sunghoon barely manages to drag himself back to the parking lot and open his door before tossing himself into the seat letting his tears finally release down onto his warm cheeks.

He felt more angry than anything, his hand slams against the middle console, then another hit to the steering wheel before his hits have less aim and more power. "Fuck!" He shouts the empty parking lot with no one to witness his meltdown. Sunghoon let's his head fall into his lap as curls up letting his tears deep through the Jean material of his pants.

Silently letting himself cry before pulling himself together. Wiping his face he looks in the rear view hoping his eyes weren't to red or puffy nor his nose. He knew it wouldn't just take Jay for him figure out what to do he had to go Sunoo the boy with a soft smile and a kind heart was all he needed in his moment of disparity.

When he's met face to face with the boys soft features and worried eyes he can't help but choke out a sob past the fake smile he tried to front for the younger boy. Barreling him into a tight hug Sunoo doesn't ask him anything he just guides him to his room and waits for him to talk. When Sunghoon finally calms himself into a tired and stuffy mood he opens up to Sunoo from the very beginning up until he had left the pool.

And when Sunghoon decides it best to go Sunoo dials Jay's number and decides to let him take the next step in action because Sunoo is the last to be confrontational especially about his friends. But when he spills his guts to Jay the displeased tone coming from the other line makes Sunoo realize that this entire conversation would end with a pissed of Jay, a heart broken Sunghoon, and a clueless y/n.

—————

The next morning when 12PM hits Jay steps out his car with a deadpanned expression and a mission. He was beyond seething with you, moving on from Sunghoon so easily after making him fall hard. Jay wasn't going for it in the least, something had to give. And when he approaches the lifeguard tower to see you sitting atop looking like death but you in the ass he doesn't know how to react.

When he sees your finally looking at him you roll your eyes hoping that since he approached he'd speak first but you guessed wrong. "Can I help you?" You ask, your voice sounded utterly scratchy. "Did he call you? Show up to your house or anything?" Jay asks flatly. "What are you talking about?" You ask confused "Sunghoon, because he showed up here after your shift and he didn't say anything to me after" Jay explains making you shake your head.

"I wasn't here yesterday I had someone else fill my shift while i was out sick. He didn't come to my house and he didn't call me. But I don't really think he needs a reason anymore since he thinks I'm west side trash who steals shit" he spat the familiar scenario leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. "So he never apologized like I told him to?" Jay asks becoming almost fed up with Sunghoon himself.

"Apologize for? Calling me a thief? Or bringing up how much money I have?" You ask still biting back a few tantalizing and anger driven questions yourself. You didn't entirely blame Sunghoon for being angry about the necklace missing, but you'd never even come close to knowing why exactly he had thought you had stolen it. "All of it. Listen yesterday Sunghoon told me why he thought it was you and I don't know if it's my business to tell. But I just really think you should call him and let him know your willing to hear his side of the story and his apology" Jay explains calmly which makes your eyebrow twitch.

"When did I say I was willing to listen? I know you want what's best for your friend and you may only know me through him but I already told Sunghoon it was done, he drew that line himself and I'm not stepping over it for the sake of his guilty conscience" you say flatly making Jay sigh. "He's really fucking stupid and he realized he was wrong, but if you'd just listen to him I promise you're not going to regret it" he says his voice is eager.

You poke your tongue in your cheek, the past few days you've convinced yourself to wipe your memory of Sunghoon changing your bed sheets, putting all your tapes, CD's and records in a large box taped under Meath your bed inside a box along with any other thing you've conveniently kept as a memory latching on to the name park Sunghoon like a leach to your brain cells.

But now that you could see how desperate Jay was to get the two of you to talk; Park Jeongsong the calm and mature friend who had a plan, solution, and action for everything was eager for you talk to his friend. "It better be good, because if he gives me some half-ass apology you owe me" you sigh.

"Okay- that's fair. When can you see him?" Jay says all too happy for his best friends sake. "Tell him to meet me here after my shift, he knows where I'll be at" you say your tone showing no sign of emotions, you'd feel anxiety creep on you by the time you're face to face with the brunette.

————-

You were more than nervous, your hands were shaky and your breathing is slightly heavier. All emotions that had hit you the way that they did came suddenly with no warning. Your entire shift you had dreaded each time you checked a clock and counted down the minutes, hours and seconds in your head. As time blurred past you were finally alone, sitting near the edge of the pool your feet dipped into the slightly cold water.

The smell of chlorine and the orange hues kissing your skin. It all felt like the first day of lessons with Sunghoon and it made you sad. The sudden rattling of the worn out gate screeching open against the concrete you didn't have to look to know. Your eyes trained on water as it pumps out of the filter the soft sound of it trickling brought faux comfort.

The soft pattern of she's making friction with wet concrete comes closer and closer making your heart speed up. The smell of cherry popsicles and weed becomes more apparent as Sunghoon sits besides you crossing his legs and tucking them away from the water.

Silence has never been more overbearing and loud enough to fill the air with tension. Your mouth opens to speak but your voice dies in your throat not knowing how to even remotely start the conversation. You felt like a new born watching their parents make you speak your first words, anything; a sound, a word or letter...something. But apparently Sunghoon beat you to it.

"I'm sorry for not believing you, and talking about the way you live. My parents made choices for me and they rubbed off me in ways I didn't even realize. The day after we got into that fight- my sister came home with necklace in her hand. She had taken it while my mom was drunk so she could show off to her friends. And I felt like shit the minute I saw her with it" he says shakily Sunghoon couldn't trust his voice but if he wanted to right his wrongs he'd have to put a small pitch of bass in it.

"Did you think I stole or did somebody else tell you that?" You ask feeling your face heat up with an emotion you couldn't name. "My mom, I don't know why I never saw it but I could just tell the moment your name came out of my mouth she finally had a real reason to hate you. Did you know my mom disliked you?" Sunghoon asks with narrow eyes finally letting them look at you for the first time in what feels like forever.

"I knew she didn't like me. All the sneaky shit and comments she makes when you're not around, I just brushed it off" you say shrugging not being able to meet the boys eyes that are now softened. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asks under his breath "Because I know you Sunghoon. Well enough to say that you're a mama's boy, you would do anything to please her, even if that means breaking somebody's heart because she is the one who's always behind you watching you make those mistakes and waiting to point them out, ready for her family to look like perfection and you want to be that" you say finally categorizing your current state.

"I broke you heart? I thought you were over me, when I came to the pool yesterday I heard you closing up shift in the staff building having sex" Sunghoon says his hands tightening into fists hating the feeling that was in his chest just thinking about you with someone else. "I wasn't here yesterday, I felt like shit so I just stayed home the entire day" you whispered looking down at your nails picking at the nail polish as a way to keep yourself from looking at him with that frown on your face.

"I panicked" Sunghoon whispers feeling his eyes sting with tears. "I'm so used to be setting up on dates, and my parents trying to get me a nice rich girl. I've never felt this ever. Not with any girl I've just went down on, or hung out with at the pool, not even those girls at the country clubs who stare. It all just felt so real like how your mom described it. And every time you came around the feeling just got so much bigger than me- I just didn't know what to do. So when you told it was done I felt lonely" he said letting his tears flow freely.

You remembered the conversation you had with Sunghoon in his car and it made your heart ache. "I never really realized how much I depended on you to fill my schedule that in just these 2 days alone I've done nothing but cry and pout to my friends about you" he sniffled making your throat feel like it was growing a lump and your cheeks heated up.

"I'm sorry I doubted you, and I should've believed you when you told me. It just felt too..." he trailed off making you huff a laugh as your own tears streak down your cheeks and stain your shorts. "Too good to be true. That's what I told my friends the day before the fest, some rich guy catching feelings for west side trash. It was funny in the moment but after a while I started to believe it you know? But the way I felt about you just wouldn't let me give you up" you shake your head, rubbing the creases building up between your eyebrows.

"You're not- You're not trash. Your the girl who saved my life, who gave me swimming lessons and risked her job for me, your the girl who took my virginity, your the girl that I want to be with and I'm done letting other people pick who I'm with because I know I want to be with you" he says his breath getting caught in his throat his statement coming out like word vomit.

"I don't forgive you" you shake your head. "Not yet, if you really mean all that then you'll stick it out and prove that your sorry. Sunghoon you brought my living situation into this and that's when you decided to fuck up. Who am I to say the next argument we get in you won't bring it up again or say worse?" You finally look up at him with genuine distress. "I want to invest in my feelings for you but I just need you to prove that you're serious" you can see the eagerness in his eyes.

Nodding his head Sunghoon wipes the palm of his hand on his shorts before softly brushing away the small tears on his cheek "I swear I'll prove it" he mumbled making you smile softly feeling content with his response. Letting his hand drop back into his lap Sunghoon moves closer to your side to the point your thighs are touching, the both of you watching how the orange hues of the sun are slowly disappearing behind the peak of trees, laying your head against his shoulder and feeling the weight of his head on top of yours "I love you" Sunghoon puffs out.

He knew he loved you, the girl who taught him so much during just one summer. Took his virginity, taught him to swim, showed him heart break, Sunghoon loved you and he'd wait until you were ready and he proved he would be with you he was all in. He just knew this time falling into the deep end he had someone to save him again and again.

[roturo]

BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

INUMAKI TOGE X READER

SUMMARY: meeting up with your old friends sounded like a good idea, turns out lying and saying you and your ex ended up as a friends would include him there, so that was a bad idea of yours.

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, subspace, exes!to lovers, use of curse energy for sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, use of sign language, almost caught, after care, dacryphilia.

Life has been great.

Ever since you broke up with Inumaki things have been just fine. Both of you decided to end up as friends. Which might be awkward between the both of you but when you’re together around other people it wasn’t that bad.

You decided to focus on your training, even though it became a little bit too much to be at the same place with your ex… so you decided to live alone and start a new life. College is a new experience and it has been really fun! Training at home wasn’t as effective and efficient as training with Gojo-sensei and your friends… but, you felt more comfortable this way.

Some days you felt like exorcizing some curse and just walked through the city and found one.

Just for fun.

That’s what Maki told you. ‘Let’s hang out all of us together like the old times! Just for some fun!’

And everything was going great! But you never expected Yuuji to enter next to Inumaki into Maki’s room. You haven’t seen him in like four? six months? It’s been a while…

And to say he looked even more handsome than last time is understandable. Half a year and he grew up. He seemed taller than last time, his shoulders broader, and his hands…

You scold yourself for staring too long at him. His eyes locked with yours and a small awkward silence was in the room. But thankfully, Yuuji couldn’t tolerate silence and proposed to order some pizza and talk about how things have been.

You told them about your new friends at college, how you've been auto-training yourself, and how you felt like a new person.

Inumaki felt nostalgic. Watching you grow up and create a life without him made him sad. Thinking about the old times and how you talked to him for hours about having a family. How you stayed with him even if he couldn’t communicate himself like others, he loved you, and he missed you.

You missed him too, and when Maki asked if you were comfortable right now, even if your ex is literally like less than two meters in front of you, you said, ‘yeah! why not, we didn’t end on bad terms! can’t do people reconnect? I only see him as a friend.’

The biggest lie you ever said.

But the both of you knew those glance you gave each other, you needed the other… So when Maki accompanied Yuuji for the pizza you couldn’t control yourself.

And I mean like you couldn’t control yourself literally, he controlled you. He took his hands off.

‘Follow me.’

Your body was moving without your permission. Following Inumaki to what you assumed was his room. A tingly feeling dressed as nervousness was appearing in the low part of your tummy.

You felt anxious? excited? euphoric?

You missed him so much it was hurting, so when you got inside his room, thinking about if what’s going to occur was correct, you stared at your phone for some second before murmuring to yourself ‘fuck it, it’s fine’ —the first thing you did when you had control back was send a text to Maki.

‘I’m sleeping in another place.’ Maybe she’ll think you didn’t feel comfortable enough and needed to leave.

But maybe that’s not the case. You might sleep on someone else's sheets.

‘Inumaki…’

‘Shh… Undress yourself.’— You wanted to first kiss him, but he seemed eager to have you— and how could you say no? Maybe he wasn’t even controlling you and you were doing it for your own taste.

Feeling vulnerable in front of him— he grabbed you by the waist pulling you closer to his clothes body and started kissing you like a hungry man— You missed his touch and he missed yours.

Coming here wasn’t a bad idea… right?

Wrong.

Your body was sore and twitching of how many times he has made you cum. He’s been eating you out for hours now— with just one word making you cut whenever he felt like it. Making symbols on your pussy of what you suppose it’s his curse marks— Your eyes were full of tears, vision blurry and feeling dizzy.

‘N-no more ‘Inu..’

‘Osaka ‘ Was all he said, keeping a straight face before watching you before continuing eating you out— ‘Squirt.’ Your body shook before your vision turned black and everything felt a thousand times more— his fingers inside of you, slurping your fluids out of you. It was a disgusting mess— but he loved watching you turn into a mess thanks to him. It was his mess.

He never abused so much of his power on you, but this time it was different. He needed you, he wanted you.

Once he felt he got enough of your poor and used pussy, he got up— Watching you trying to keep your eyes open. Makeup ruined, hair tangled and tears coming down your eyes. You felt fucked out— feeling sore on parts of your body you never thought could get sore. Trying to plead for your sanity was met with deaf ears.

He started unbuckling his belt, and turned his middle and ring finger down, making the sign ‘I love you’ before signaling he missed you so much and needed you. Sign language was a common thing between the both of you because of his cursed technique. Just a few words, because it’s like destiny brought the two of you together because in some ways you always knew what the other needed.

He teased your cunt with his dick before inserting it in. You were on missionary, him on top of you while he admired the mess you became. He thrusted inside of you with no warning, your fucked up pussy with no need to make it even more sensitive for you to cum, he just started searching for his release.

When he watched you not even being able to say coherent words, tears just streaming down your face, your eyes almost closed and moans coming out of your mouth was enough for him to cum inside of you. The fucked up image of you— thanks to him— will be forever engraved in his mind. He needs you, he needs to be back together.

He groaned at the feeling of your cunt hugging his cock once he came, his body shaking before laying down beside you. Heavy breathings filling the room, he looked back at you and found you staring at him too. A smile adorned his face, moving his body so he could hug yours— playing with your hair and giving you small pecks he heard a knock on his door. 

He supposed you’re still in a subspace and grabbed his boxers, slightly opening the door so only his face was visible— a confused blushed Yuuji was in front of his door. ‘Inumaki, the pizza is here. We can’t find Y/N though… Do you know where she is?…’

‘Go with Maki.’ Were the words he let out, Yuuji’s body moved without his permission, leaving him alone. 

He looked behind and saw you taking small breaths, your chest going up and down— He smiled to himself, before he grabbed a warm cloth and and started cleaning you up— He searched for some candy he used to have in his room since you were always craving them, he grabbed one water bottle too and repositioned you so your now resting on his pillows. He sat next to you, playing with your hair, waiting till you came back to reality.

Once you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Inumaki staring at you— Eyes full of love while he played with your hair. You moved so your body was not sitting on his bed, you noticed you’re wearing one of his t-shirts and your panties— You supposed he put them on, he touched your arm and gave you some water and your favorite candy. You looked back at him— surprised he still had some of them here, you smiled at him and drank some water.

You didn’t notice he grabbed a notebook and was writing something until he gave it to you.

‘Can we get back together? You’re all I need, all I love. I would kill any curse, person, thing who tries to hurt you, everything… just to have you back in my arms.’

[remiratboi]

Lost Souls Campground - Ollidar

Masterlist

Yandere!FHalfOrcXFatAFAB!Reader ~ 11K Words

You met when you were children, and he never spoke. You were childhood best friends. Now, a decade after you last saw him, you've returned to the very campground you grew up seeing him at. You never imagined you'd find him there again.

CW: Monster fucking, noncon/dubcon, stalking, yandere, obsessive relationship, unhealthy relationship, body image issues, bondage, gaslighting, manipulation. Let me know if I missed something.

I re-edited it and changed a few things, and posted it all as one!

*****************************************************

Every year, your family would vacation in the Moonlight Realm. The pocket universe that had been discovered around 100 years ago. ‘Moonlight Realm’ it was affectionately called because of the creatures who dwelled there. Monsters.

As well as monsters of all kinds, the Moonlight Realm boasted of beautiful scenery, cheap rates, and what humans originally deemed “exotic cultures”.

But the humans and the monsters had settled into a comfortable coexistence, and monsters were far from rare any longer. You grew up with creatures all around you. It was common and equal. The human race had come a long way.

The little cabin you always rented for the whole summer was small and cramped. You, 3 siblings, your parents, and an elderly dog made the 2 bedroom unit feel like a shoebox. From a very young age, you had learned all the best hiding spots and getaways in the park. When you were around 10 years old, you found that apparently someone else had found them too.

A young half orc named Ollidar, or Ollie.

You didn’t speak the same language, and the first time you met, it had been awkward and confusing. You had tried to tell him he was welcome, and that there was enough room for the both of you. He seemed to understand, as he ended up sitting across from you in the small natural clearing that sat just inside the forest.

You probed him with questions, you tried acting things out, you tried writing them down with a stick in the dirt. He didn’t respond. Sometimes it looked like he understood something but he never gave any reply. Just sat there, watching you. Sometimes he’d smile shyly.

The first summer it had been a lot to get used to. He started meeting you every day in the same spot. Sometimes he’d read, or listen to music on his AirPods, but mostly he watched you.

You wasted a few days trying to get him to respond, but since he never did, it slowly switched to you just talking to him. You told him… everything. You had to fill the silence. It would be too awkward if not.

You told him about your friends back home, your cat who you missed terribly and hoped was liking the pet sitter. About your favourite movies, books, foods. You told him about your fears, you weren’t sure why. You told him embarrassing stories. Sometimes you even worried he would think you were lame or weird and leave, but he never did. He just listened.

The summer came to an end and you did your best to tell him goodbye. That you hoped to see him again.

And you would. Every year. Every summer you spent two glorious months glued to each other’s sides. Your families became close through you.  He had a sister and two moms. Your parents got along, and all of your siblings as well.

No one understood why he never spoke. It wasn’t a language barrier anymore. After 7 summers together both families knew more than enough about the other’s language. Enough to communicate with little confusion. He seemed to understand everything. If you asked him to pass you something, he would. If you gave him something he didn’t want, he’d shake his head. But he never spoke.

You stopped going on family vacations when you turned 18. You had moved out, so had most of your siblings. Your parents decided it was time for your own family vacations.

The first summer that you weren’t going, hit you harder than you’d ever imagined. Your chest hurt.

The next year was better.

And the next.

Soon you were 28 and that little half orc was just a fond, albeit, bittersweet memory.

Until your parents decide to do a sort of reunion trip this year. All of your siblings, and their families, plus you and your parents, would be taking a summer vacation to Lost Souls Campground in the Moonlight Realm this year.

It had barely changed. Some machines had been upgraded, the cabins had clearly been renovated to function with modernity, but other wise it was beautiful, serene, and just like you remembered it.

“It’s you.” A strong deep voice full of awe whispered from behind you. You turned around and was met with a face indeed in awe. It took a moment but you realized this was the first time you’d ever heard his voice.

“Oh wow!” You exclaimed. Genuine joy spreading across your face. “You’re here?!” You cried and raced up to him. He didn’t even flinch as you threw yourself at him. His arms opened and he gathered you in a powerful embrace. There was a hint of desperation in the way he clung to your soft body.

You felt a pang of anxiety that had been previously overtaken by the shock of seeing him. You were not thin anymore. And while you loved your body, and felt sexy in it, not everyone else was as comfortable with fat bodies as you were. What if he didn’t want you like this?

Want me like this? What am I thinking?!

You tried to pull yourself away from the hug, but he held tight.

“It’s you…” he muttered into your hair. He was warm, and huge. The orc part of his genes must have been strong. He dwarfed you. It took a lot for someone to make you feel small. Some part of your brain short circuited when you finally registered he had been lifting you. You panicked slightly then, worried about being too heavy and pushed yourself from his chest. He reluctantly lowered you down.

You were blushing from feet to head as you smoothed out your clothes. “Sorry, I… I was just surprised to see you.” You stuttered out. You looked up at his face. He was beautiful. You could see hints of the boy you knew, but he had grown, developed thick muscles, his face thinned out and lengthened.

“You came back.” He replied. His gaze was hyper focused on you. It seemed nothing else registered to him any longer. You squirmed a bit under such overwhelming attention.

“Yeah, we stopped back then, when all of us had moved out. But we are doing a sort of reunion trip this summer!” You explained excitedly. You felt giddy. You didn’t even really understand why. You felt excitement at seeing him.

“Does your family still come here every year?” You asked and leaned around him to see if any of them were standing near by.

“No, just me.” He answered. For the first time since seeing you, his gaze dropped. His cheeks darkened.

“You must really love this ratty old place, huh?” You joked and nudged his arm with your elbow.

“I guess.” He replied, still avoiding eye contact. “So how long are you here for?” He asked.

“The whole summer!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms out wide as if that would show the physical manifestation of time. “I had about a decade of vacations days saved up, so I decided to take the whole summer. Everyone else is just here for a couple weeks.”

He nodded and glanced back up into your eyes. “So just you and your partner are here for the summer? Or do you have kids now?” He asked and dropped his gaze again.

You chuckled. Kind of a transparent attempt my guy. “No, no partner. No kids. Never found anyone willing to put up with me long enough.” You joked self deprecatingly. “You of all people know how much I can talk.” You grimaced at yourself.

“That was my favourite thing about you.” He replied quietly. He seemed nervous. You blushed again. “The way you spoke was mesmerizing.” He continued before, it seemed, he could stop himself.

A manic sounding giggle escaped your lips. “Wow, marry me?” You joked. It was his turn to laugh like a crazy person.

“So, uh,” you continued “how long are you here for?”

“Whole summer.” He answered and smiled up at you. “How solo were you hoping to spend your time?” He ran his hand down the back of his neck and rested it on his shoulder.

You laughed and placed your hand on his arm.

The first few days with Ollie were a little awkward. Not in an uncomfortable way, but in that you didn’t know eachother anymore. It had been a decade since you had spent time together, and while he talked a little more than he used to, it was still few and far in between.

You couldn’t tell if he found it awkward though. He never mentioned it. He just followed you around. He seemed content to just exist nearby you.

The first two weeks breezed by in a flurry of family, kids, games, and way too much food. At the end of it, you waved them goodbye and excitedly hurried back to the little cabin. This would be the first time you’d had it all to yourself.

You pulled the door shut behind you and basked in the quiet for a moment. You could always hear other campers outside. Kids shrieking, vehicles moving, multiple different music sources all floating on top of eachother. And inside was a sort of haven from it all.

You made your way to the kitchen to grab a drink when you found a plate full of cookies, uncovered and still warm on the counter. You were surprised, you hadn’t noticed anyone baking before they’d left? Weird.

You inspected a cookie. Sniffed it, licked it. You didn’t immediately explode, so you shrugged your shoulders to yourself and took a bite. It was a very good cookie. You grabbed a couple more and threw them in a baggie. You gathered some other things, and changed into your bathing suit.

The beach was a short 5 or so minute walk from your cabin, and you munched away at your cookie the whole way. It was a bit overcast, so the beach wasn’t as crowded as it usually was.

You claimed a spot near another family, so that you felt comfortable leaving your stuff alone if you swam, and laid your towel out. You pulled your slinky bathing suit cover over your head and dropped it next to your things.

It was still a bit early in the day to go into the water so you opted for sunbathing with the hopes you’d get all warm and toasty then cool off in the water. Soon you were face down on a towel, your head on your arms, dozing away. You were interrupted by a prolonged blocking of sun rays.

You craned your head up and struggled to make out who it was looming over you with the suns rays blinding you from behind them. You glanced down at their feet next to you and recognized pale green skin.

“You liked the cookies?” Ollies deep voice asked. You were about to say yes, when you processed the implications of him being the one to hand deliver, into your kitchen, without asking, the surprise treat you’d found. You sat up and tugged his hand so he wasn’t standing in front of the sun anymore and you could actually see him.

“Uh, yeah they were good. But, that means you were in my cabin?” You asked incredulously.

“Oh, sorry, was that inappropriate?” He asked, genuine concern seeming to lace his tone. “Sorry, I sometimes…” he trailed off. He looked anxious again. You chose to let him work through what he wanted to say. Words were hard for him, and you wanted him to feel safe sharing them with you. Even if right now you were kind of peeved with him. “Sometimes I don’t understand what’s.. ok, or whatever.” He finished.

“Well, I appreciate your apology. No, going into someone else’s space without their consent, isn’t ok.” You softened. He wasn’t trying to cross a boundary. And he had apologized immediately. “How did you get in anyway?” You queried, already moving on from the emotions.

“I, uh, it was unlocked.” He stuttered out. Your eyebrows knit together. You could have sworn it was locked. But you shrugged past the confusion quickly. How else would he have gotten in?

“Weird. Well, anyway, I do like the cookies, they are delicious and very sweet of you.” You placed your hand on his lower calf where you could reach in a comforting way. “Just next time please knock.” You winked and giggled.

He nodded emphatically.

You and Ollie spent the day at the beach. You realized later that you never actually asked him to join you, but you weren’t displeased that he did. Even after only two weeks, you were pretty used to having him around you again. It was just like when you were kids.

Well, almost. You couldn’t help but notice some of his gazing wasn’t quite as… wholesome as it had been when you were kids. But it didn’t bother you. He wasn’t lewd about it at all, and if you were being honest with yourself, you kind of enjoyed it. Also, you had to admit, you had done some gazing yourself.

He was huge. He was muscled. He was gorgeous, and didn’t seem to be aware of it. He was exquisitely shy around everyone but you. And on top of all that, he seemed to notice only you.

You had watched countless others throw themselves at him, just to be rejected one way or another. More often than not, it seemed he just genuinely didn’t realize he was being hit on. Sometimes he’d be forced into straight up turning someone down, but mostly he’d just give them a puzzled look, and walk away.

Today was no different. You were reaching for the sunscreen when a volleyball sprayed sand all over you. You yelped and sand filled your mouth. A very pretty woman jogged over.

“O-M-G! I am so sorry about that!” She said in one of the fakest voices you’d ever heard. She said it to Ollie, not you, even though he hadn’t been hit with the spray at all. Normally you would have said something sassy, but you were too busy spitting sand from your mouth.

Ollie didn’t respond to her, but he leaned over to grab the volleyball from where it had landed between you.

“I’m Selina!” She said, all bubbly. “I’ve seen you around, you should play with us some time!”

Ollie looked up at her, volleyball still in his hands. He glanced at you. He turned back to her and thrust the ball towards her. He held it tightly in one single hand. You couldn’t help but notice how large his hand was.

“You should be more careful.” He replied, emotionless.

She took the ball and giggled anxiously. “Oh, yeah of course, we totally will.” She smiled awkwardly at you. “So, do you want to come play now?” She shot her shot.

“No.” Ollie replied.

“Aw, come on. We don’t bite.” She joked and wiggled her finger at him.

Ollie glared at her now. His face no longer impassive but furious. It surprised you. He didn’t normally express much emotion visibly.

“First you spray sand all over my partner,” he started.

Partner?!

“Then you apologize to me, not even the one you sprayed.” He continued, his tone developing an edge. The girl raised the hand not holding the ball in front of her and took a hesitant step back.

“THEN you hit on me in front of them, and don’t take no for an answer?” He shook his head at her, his soft black curls bouncing with the movement. “I am so, painfully, not interested.” He finished.

The woman blushed deeper red at each of his words, before spinning on her heel and practically running away.

“That was kind of rude.” You said quietly. You could feel his annoyance rolling off of him.

“Did I say anything untrue?” He asked you. His words were demanding, but his tone was soft. He was always soft with you. He glared in the direction she had ran. 

“Well, not really.” You answered speculatively. “Mostly. Partner?” You asked and turned to look at him.

“Ah, yeah, sorry. I guess that wasn’t true.” He replied. He glanced up at you from the side, but didn’t turn to face you.

“Why did you say it then?” Your voice sounded small, but you felt bold for vocalizing the question pounding in your head.

He turned to look at you for a moment. A fire blazed in his eyes. He didn’t say anything for a long time. He just stared into your eyes. You found you couldn’t look away.

Finally, “Sorry, I guess I wanted more reason to defend you. I felt… more angry than made sense.” He turned to look back down in front of him. You mulled his words for a moment. That made sense. What you still wondered about was the feelings that made him ‘more angry than made sense’.

You reached out and lay a hand on his shoulder. He tensed for a moment, but then quickly relaxed into your touch. “Thank you for defending me.” You said quietly. A smile played at his lips. He glanced back at you for just a second.

“Oh, also I think that was the most words I’ve ever heard you say all in a row about the same topic.” You teased him.

Your hand still lay on his shoulder. A part of you recognized the moment was over, and it made sense to remove your hand. But you didn’t. His skin was warm and you could feel his muscles tense and move with him.

You were surprised by a sudden, intense desire to touch him everywhere.

“I like your bathing suit by the way.” He mumbled. You almost didn’t catch it. Your cheeks burned and you stared at him for a second too long. 

You snapped out of it and finally pulled your hand from his shoulder. You found yourself fidgeting with the ties that hung down the side of your string bikini. To be honest, you hadn’t expected to see him here, and this suit was one you normally reserved solely for private sun bathing as it was pretty skimpy. You were suddenly very aware of the soft rolls on your sides. The way your thighs pressed together. 

“Oh, really?” Your laugh had a slight edge. “My mom told me it’s not… flattering on my body.” You didn’t know why you told him that. It was embarrassing. Not only had your mother insulted you, but she’d body shamed you. And now you were telling the absolute hunk of a man sitting next to you looking like an Adonis? “But I like it, still.” You finished lamely. 

You looked up then to see Ollie staring at you. The fire in his eyes had returned. The same fire he’d had when you asked him why he’d called you his partner. “It’s very flattering. Your mother is a lovely woman, but clearly blind.” He spoke with an almost comedic level of seriousness. You fought the instinct to brush off the compliment. You didn’t want to. You wanted to believe him. 

You tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled to yourself. “Thank you.” Your voice was soft. 

After that day on the beach, Ollie became significantly more protective of you. More possessive. He was always around you. He brought you coffee and breakfast, he fixed little things around the cabin for you, he planned activities for you both to do.

You wouldn’t have thought him a hardcore hobby guy, but he took you rock climbing, and snorkelling. He took you to a local pottery studio, he brought you to the library in town. He always had you doing something.

It was starting to drive you crazy.

You had wanted to relax?! Not that you didn’t enjoy the activities, and his company, but it never stopped. You were on vacation. You had planned to lie on the beach for two months straight, eating, drinking, and probably smoking a lot of weed. Now here you were, sober, and painting in the woods.

You felt guilty. This was a beautiful activity, and you were genuinely enjoying it. But it just hadn’t been what you planned for. You would have loved a few things here and there, but not every day, all day long.

You decided to tell him that evening. The painting class ended, and you were actually pretty pleased with your work. It was a life painting of the little waterfall and pond the class had been set up next to. You weren’t anything special, but you were proud of it nonetheless.

Ollie jumped into his old, open jeep and carefully placed both of your paintings behind his seat. He leaned across the bench seat to offer you his hand. He pulled you up onto the bench like you weighed nothing. It’s something he must have done 100 times by now, but every single time, you blushed like a fool. Your core heated at the casual way he handled you. 

“You’re not heavy, you know.” Ollie broke the silence as you headed back to the camp.

“… what?” You asked, confused.

“You always look so worried after I help you into the car.” He glanced at you then back to the road. “You’re not heavy.” He stated matter of factly

You blushed again. He had no idea.

“Oh, yeah, I guess I’m worried about that.” You lied lamely. You’d always been bad at lying. You chewed on your lip.

His brows furrowed slightly. “Ok, so if that’s not it,” His voice was smooth and deep. He didn’t speak much. Even now. He mostly used basic gestures to communicate. But sometimes, when you were alone, he’d talk. You loved it. More than you probably should have. A warmth spread from the centre of you and radiated out. “what is it then?” He continued, pulling you out of your own thoughts.

“Uh, what is what then?” You replied, hoping he’d drop it if you pretended not to understand.

“Why do you blush so hard every time you get in my vehicle?” He asked. There was no getting around that one.

You sighed to yourself. Do you tell him? What the hell, you thought to yourself. What does it matter if he thinks you’re a horny slut? He’s just some guy you’re going to see for another month and a half, then never again. Who cares… right?

“I… gods this is embarrassing,” you started. You saw his one eyebrow raise. “It’s… ok… it’s hot as fuck, ok?” You forced out. You could feel how warm your cheeks were. This was worse than you thought it would be. You cared more than you liked.

“… what’s hot?” He asked slowly. You died a little. Of COURSE he was going to make you spell it out.

“Omg Ollie, I just… I’m not… small alright? So having a very attractive man casually lift me like it’s nothing?” You stared out the open window, unable or unwilling to look at him. “That’s really hot.”

He nodded slowly beside you. You could see in your peripheral that his cheeks had also darkened.

“Is it hot because any man is lifting you, or because I’m lifting you?” He finally asked.

Jesus Christ

“You know,” you started, your voice an octave too high. “I REALLY haven’t given it much thought.”

It was silent in the car for a long time.

Finally you couldn’t take it anymore. “So…”

He didn’t look at you. His knuckles were white on the wheel.

“So what are we doing tonight?” You asked.

“Nothing.” He replied, too quickly. Your heart fell. Here it was. Just like always.

You were quiet the rest of the drive. He dropped you off at your cabin. Normally he’d jump out and open your door for you. Not tonight. Had you really read him that wrong?

You shut the door behind you and turned around to speak. Before you could, he shifted the gear and drove slowly away.

You spent the evening alternating between disappointed, embarrassed and annoyed. It surprised you how hard it was to keep your mind off of it. Normally rejection rolled off of you. You were pretty used to it, unfortunately. Dating while fat was… something else.

But this was different somehow. You cared this time. It hit you like a truck when you realized it. For the first time, in a very long time, you cared.

You hated it. You hated giving someone that power. Being vulnerable wasn’t something you did well.

You had spent your entire life being “too much”. You were too big, both in personality and body. You were too loud, you had too many emotions, and thoughts. You talked too much. And people were not scared to tell you. You couldn’t even count the times and ways people had defined you as “too much”. The blatant words, the subtle actions, the micro aggressions. That was your life.

But not him. He had told you his favourite thing about you was how much you talked. Which, honestly, felt fake, but it was hard not to believe his genuine eyes. He had done so many things to make you think he…

You instinctively shut down that train of thought. You shouldn’t get your hopes up. He’s made it clear you read things wrong.

The next day came slowly. It was raining. You rolled over in bed, not eager to start the day. You debated going back to sleep, when you heard dishes clinking.

You shot up, fear ripping through your chest. Had you imagined that? No. You heard it again.

A chill settled in your bones as you carefully, silently, crawled out of bed. You wore a skimpy tank top that barely covered you. It was low cut, you never wore a binder/bra, you didn’t need to, you had been blessed with only tiny handfuls for tits, and it rested under your waist showing your lower stomach. The booty shorts you wore didn’t make things any better. They were practically underwear. You debated trying to throw more clothes on, but knew the closet doors creaked.

The little cabin was small, but the bedrooms were on one side, and the kitchen on the complete opposite. You made your way towards it, picking up a badminton racket on the way. It had been discarded in the hallway after another one of your activities with Ollie.

You raised the racket above your shoulder and took a deep breath to steel yourself. This was it. You slowly stepped around the corner. Your mind filled with murderers and villains.

The tall, pale green half orc that was bent over the stove with his back to you was not what you were expecting. You practically sobbed with relief.

“Ollie?!” You demanded, your voice cracking and sounding a lot more desperate than you’d like. He turned slightly, but didn’t look away from whatever he was doing.

“Good morning!” He said cheerily. “Sorry if I woke you. I just wanted to make you breakfast to make up for yesterday.” He continued. You noticed now milk and eggs on the counter. The smell of food wafted towards you.

You didn’t say anything. Your brain was struggling to compute. You had like 7 questions. How had he got in? Why did he do this? Why did he think it was ok? But most importantly, what does he mean ‘make up for yesterday’?!

Just as you realized you’d been standing there, slackjawed, not answering, for far too long, he turned. As soon as he saw you, he froze. His cheeks went dark green and the flipper he was holding clattered to the ground. You were confused for about .02 whole seconds before you remembered you were almost naked.

“Uh, I’ll be right back.” You blurted out and raced back to your room. You threw the door shut and leaned against it. What the hell was he doing here? In your cabin! While you were asleep!

Your mind raced as you threw a loose tee over the tank, and a pair of thin sweats on. You made your way back to the kitchen.

“Ollie, I think we need to talk about boundaries-” you started. You stopped when you noticed the front door was open. You looked from the door to the kitchen. He was gone. A thin plume of smoke started on the stove. Something was burning.

A quick toss of the pan into the sink dealt with that. You turned off the burner and leaned on the counter in bafflement.

No, fuck that! He doesn’t get to just run away from this!

You ran after him.

You stormed down the little path, through the camp, and straight to Ollies cabin. You always thought his cabin looked less like a vacation home, and more like a regular home.

Three raps rung out as you knocked on the front door.

No answer.

You were like 90% sure he had gone home.

“Ollie, I know you’re in there. We need to talk.” You called. It was silent for a long moment. You almost began second guessing yourself.

“I… I can’t.” Came softly from inside.

Can’t?! CAN’T?!

“Like HELL you can’t!” You shouted through the door. You cringed slightly when you ended up being louder than you’d meant. A couple walking by stared at you. You raised your hand and smiled unconvincingly.

“Ollie,” you continued, a bit quieter. “You just broke into my cabin while I was sleeping. We are talking about this, right now.” You gritted your teeth. “Open. The. Door.” You left no room for discussion.

A long moment passed with no reply. You fidgeted. Just when you had started to consider squeezing your ass through a window, his voice came through the door.

“It’s open.” He answered.

Oh.

You turned the handle and pushed the door open. He sat, in the afternoon light filtering through the window, on his couch, head hung so you couldn’t see his face, with a large pillow gripped in front of him.

He looked sad. You hadn’t expected sad. You don’t know what you’d expected, but not sad. You steeled your resolve.

“Ok, this has gone too far.” You started. “You’re a great guy, but you don’t seem to understand boundaries, so I’m going to lay them out, clear as day, and if you cross them again, that’s going to be it, Ollie.” You finished and crossed your arms. He looked up through his curls. He looked like he was in agony. You instinctively took a step back, surprised by his intense reaction.

You shook your head, trying not to let those puppy dog eyes break you down. “How do you keep getting into my cabin?” You demanded. “And don’t give me some shit about it being unlocked. I know it was locked last night.”

He looked up, further. His eyes scanned your face. He seemed to be debating if he wanted to answer. You waited.

Finally “I… have a key.” He said, guilt lacing his words.

“A KEY?!” You practically shouted. “Where the hell did you get a key?!”

He groaned and leaned back on the couch. He ran his hand across his face. “I own it.”

Your mouth dropped open. “What does that mean?” You said slowly, dangerously.

“I, I bought the campground a few years ago.”

“You own the ENTIRE campground?!” You demanded. Your voice had started to enter dog whistle pitches.

He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He buried his face in his hands. The large pillow was squished and stuck out at weird angles.

“You never came back.” He said quietly. The dam broke. “One day, you just never came back. 4 years went by and I did everything I could to find you. No one had information, no one knew how to contact you or your family. I kept coming back every year, desperate to see you again, to hear you again. But you were never here.”

He glanced up at you. You felt numb. His eyes were filled with sorrow.

“4 years after you last came they were going to shut it down. It hadn’t been doing as great and the owners were old. They told us it would be the last year. I had some money from my grandparents inheritance, and…” he shook his head at himself.

“I couldn’t let the only connection I had to you disappear. Even if you never came back, all those places we had spent time in, the feelings I had for you, here I got to live in them. I felt you everywhere. Every little memory.”

His cheeks were a deep dark green, but he seemed unable to stop the flow of words from his mouth for the first time in your entire lives.

“I made a lot of changes, put a ton of work in, and the campground is doing great now. This is my life here. I don’t run the day to day anymore, but I live here, I maintain it.”

He looked back down at the ground. “And you finally came back.”

You stood there, stunned. Long moments of uneasy silence passed between you.

“Ollie this…” you didn’t even know what to say. Panic started to rise in your throat. “This is too mu-” you heard yourself start to say it. The words you’d heard your entire life. Too much.

“I need to go.” You blurted out and turned to leave. A noise came from behind you.

Ollie grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to face him. He pushed you against the door, your back to it. He held you there with his hands against the door next to your head. His huge arms framed your face and he bent down to look at you. His face was so close.

“Please, don’t go, just listen, I-” he stuttered. Desperation filled his eyes. Frustration filled yours.

“No!” You shouted. “You don’t get to stop me. You don’t get anything!” You poked his chest, jabbing your finger accusingly. “You don’t get to reject me then tell me you’re obsessed with me!” You spat, the words cruel. You didn’t care. Your nerves were frayed. You didn’t know how to handle yourself after his confession. His obsession.

Confusion pulled his eyebrows together. “Reject you…?” He asked. You blushed. You hadn’t meant to bring that up. But apparently even now, your stupid little monkey brain could only think about that.

“Yesterday.” He still didn’t understand. “And today.” He grimaced but still seemed not to understand. You rolled your eyes and ran your hand through your hair. “You’re so dense sometimes.” You muttered.

“Yesterday, I told you… that I thought you were hot, and how turned on I was, ok? And then you just ran away.” You couldn’t look up at him not with his face so close. Not with his eyes boring into yours. Not with his lips just inches away. “And then today, you see me in skimpy clothes and run away again.” You couldn’t believe you were about to say it. “Like, I get if I’m not your type, but… I guess I just thought you felt differently ok?” You looked up into his eyes for one second before looking back down. The desperation hadn’t gone away, but it looked hungrier than before.

“This doesn’t even matter, I shouldn’t be talking about this right now.” You placed a hand on his chest and pushed softly. He didn’t move. “I need to process what you just told me, and I’m not thinking right.”

“I didn’t run away because I wasn’t into you.” He said. His voice was surprisingly hoarse. Gravel had filled his throat. You looked up in surprise. His cheeks had a new kind of heat to them. Hunger filled his eyes. But there was also fear. You could see how unsure he was.

“I ran away, both times, because I was about one second away from throwing you to the ground and fucking you.” Your breath caught. Your eyebrows pulled together slightly. You shouldn’t be so happy to hear that, you thought. He’s crazy. He’s obsessed with you. Like actually.

But he’d never hurt you.

A small voice in the back of your mind said.

“I love you.” He held your eyes. His gaze softened slightly. The hunger didn’t go though. Neither did the fear. “I always have. I could listen to you talk for the rest of my life. You’re funny, witty, gorgeous, and a bit of a dumbass.” He smirked. “I would do anything for you.” You believed him. “Just give me a chance to show you.”

He moved one hand from beside your head to rest it on your waist. He pulled himself into you. His hard chest pressed against yours, the solid door against your back. You couldn’t breathe.

You felt hot. You felt like you were standing on a knife’s blade. Fall into him, into this crazy, terrifying fantasy, or fall back into reality. What if you could make fantasy a reality? Did you even want that? Some rational part of you screamed. He had been in your home while you slept. He bought an entire huge business because he might get to see you again. He was obsessed with you. He was dangerous. How many times had he let himself in while you slept? What could he have done?

You felt yourself shaking your head before you’d decided to. You pushed your hand on his chest again. “Ollie, I need some space. I need to think.” You said.

“Please,” he begged. “Please just let me show you how well I can take care of you. I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted.” Some part of you wanted that to be true. Wanted him to be true. But could you handle the obsession? What if it went deeper, darker.

You shook your head again and he let out an exasperated groan. “You’re not giving me a chance.” He complained. And edge of mania had started to show in his voice and expressions. “I need to show you. If you just let me show you, then it will all be ok.” He spoke fast and low. You felt his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, then the hem of the tank top underneath.

“Ollie-” you warned.

“No, no, just, you don’t understand.” He cut you off. He leaned down and kissed your neck. You froze. “I’ve been waiting years for you. You think now that I’ve finally got you back, I’m going to let you go?” Darkness seeped at the edges of your vision as fear took hold. “That moment a month ago changed my life, and I’ve spent every second since learning about you.”

His hand on your waist tucked under your tank, and he placed it against your ribs. His hand was huge. Almost comically so. And it rested just inches from your chest. No fabric separating you any longer. All he had to do was move up.

His other hand came down to hold the back of your neck. He pressed you even harder against the door. His breath was ragged as he kissed up and down your neck and shoulder in between words.

“I know what you like. I know how you like it. I’ve watched you.” A sob wracked through your chest at that. The first time you’d reacted outwardly since he started kissing you.

“You’re so lonely. I’ve heard you cry in your bed at night. I’ve heard you beg to be loved. That’s what I want to do, baby.” He pulled back and looked deep into your eyes. “Let me love you.”

“Let me love you.” Ollies plea rang through your head. He was so close. Too close.

“Let me make you feel good, love.” He said. He pushed his knee between your legs, parting them. You gasped and wiggled but he held you firm between his hand on your waist and his arm bracing the door by your head.

You didn’t know what to do. You could scream. Somehow that felt like the wrong thing to do. You knew you weren’t thinking straight. You could feel your cunt throb against his leg.

“I want to show you how well I know you.” He nuzzled into your neck, nipping at your soft flesh. You couldn’t help the half sob, half moan that ripped from your chest. “I want to show you how well I can take care of you.” He pleaded with you. He raised his knee and ground into your clit through your clothes. You moaned and tried pushing him away. He didn’t budge.

“Please, Ollie, don’t-” you tried to beg him to let you go. Just as you started talking he reached up under your shirts and rolled his thumb over your nipple. You choked on your words.

“I’ve wanted to touch you for so long.” He whispered into your neck. “But I thought you’d never look at me that way. Until yesterday.” He squeezed the nipple he was rolling. Your back arched instinctively and you pushed yourself into his body. He groaned.

“Everything about you is so expressive.” He practically growled. The words flowed like they’d never been stopped up before. “I used to imagine you were singing. The melody of your voice. I would play beautiful instruments in my mind worthy of keeping up with you.”

He ran his lips up your neck to your jawline. You felt him tremble slightly. He didn’t kiss you there. He just lingered. “I wished a thousand times I could talk to you. That I could open my mouth and words even half as clever as yours could fall out.”

He pulled back and looked you in the eyes. You were still pressed against him, your pussy was resting, and throbbing on his leg. His thumb rolled your nipple slowly while he spoke.

“But you didn’t force me to talk. You were ok to let me be silent. I never got to thank you for that.” You saw a pain flash through his eyes. He didn’t break eye contact and you found yourself unable to. You were surprised when your own heart throbbed at his pain. “You were… are the only person in my entire life to accept me as I am, no expectations.”

He kissed you. It was soft, warm, but just like everything else, desperate. You didn’t move for a moment. You didn’t know what to do. He kissed you harder, and you felt his anxiety rise. The panic that you weren’t going to kiss him back. You felt how badly he wanted you to kiss him back.

And then you realized, you wanted to. You wanted to kiss him. Not like this, but you did. Some where along the lines, you’d developed feelings for this huge, stupid hot, and completely crazy man. You knew it was dangerous. The fear chilled you. But the desire warmed you right back up.

Suddenly you were kissing him back. Your hands were in his hair, on his neck, his shoulders. He leaned in even further, crushing you against his chest. His other hand came down to your neck and gripped you tightly. The hand on your chest explored further, touching all of you. Just as quickly as it started, it became overwhelming.

“Ollie, stop, not like this.” You said in between kisses. You tried pushing him back again. He growled again, but this time it was frustrated, feral.

“Stop pushing me away.” His words were heavy with warning. “You want this, me. I know you do. Just let me show you how good i can be. How i can make you feel.” He spun you around faster than you could react. He pressed you against the door, his hard cock pressing into your lower back. He twisted one of your arms behind your back and held you there. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you wont give me a chance.” His other hand snaked back under your shirt and pinched your nippled, hard. You gasped. “I know you’ll love it, eventually.”

Tears started to spill from your eyes silently. You didn’t fight back. You knew there was no point. He was so much bigger and stronger than you. It was more than just that though. For some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to. If he was telling the truth, he knew exactly what kind of things you liked. You knew how wet your pussy was already. Being taken against your will was probably your number one fantasy.

BUT IT IS JUST A FANTASY

You shouted inside your mind. You should be screaming. Fighting, kicking, anything! And yet, as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, all you could do was think about how hot that was. He threw you around like you weighed nothing. And he wanted you, so badly. You had never been desired like this before. Not to these extremes.

He threw you down on his huge, orc sized bed. It was reinforced with a thick wood frame. You instinctively curled into the fetal position. The tears hadn’t stopped, even if you didn’t really feel that sad. You were in a strange state of disconnection. On one hand you logically understood how wrong this all was. How dangerous this was. What he was about to do to you. But emotionally, you couldn’t care less. You were dripping wet, and the way he felt about you gave you butterflies. The way he talked about you and his feelings for you, made you feel valuable. It wasn’t something you had experienced much in your life. What he had said about you being the only one to accept him, rang in your mind. Was he that for you? Could you accept what he was about to do to you because he was the only person you had never been too much for?

You could give him permission, you thought. Then at least it wouldn’t be r*pe. But a part of you knew no matter what happened, it still would be. And another, quieter, more insidious part knew you’d rather it be forced. To finally fulfill that deepest darkest fantasy.

Ollie stood over your curled body on his bed. “You’re so beautiful.” He muttered. He didn’t seem to be speaking to you, but about you. It made you blush regardless. What was wrong with you? He bent down and tried to pry your limbs apart. You held to yourself tightly.

“Don’t make me hurt you. I don’t want to, but you need to listen to me.” The warning had returned to his words. You didn’t relax your position, but when he tried again to move your body, you allowed it this time. “Good pet.” He purred, satisfaction lacing his voice. Your cunt throbbed at his words. He slowly raised you up to a sitting position.

“Take off your shirt, love.” He said softly, but with intent. You found yourself staring into his eyes while you crossed your arms across your chest to reach for the hem on either side. You paused. He nodded once, and you slowly pulled both shirts up and over your head. His breath caught as your chest was revealed. You were surprised to find he hadn’t stoped looking into your eyes, and after the shirt was past your face, your gazes caught again. You blushed and squirmed under his intense eye contact. Instinctively, you lifted your arms to cover your chest. He raised one eyebrow in a disapproving way and you froze. He reached out and gripped both of your forearms.

“If you can’t keep your arms down, I’m going to have to restrain them. This is your only warning.” You lowered them and he smiled. Your heart thudded in your chest, his approval suddenly the most important thing. Where had that shy boy gone? Where did this confident, dominant man taken over? He moved forward, kneeling with one knee in between your legs. He pushed you gently until you were lying on your back on the bed.

Ollie lifted one of your legs, and started tugging at the hem of your sweats. it suddenly became too much again and you bolted back up. Your hands gripped his on the cuff of your pants. “Wait,” you panicked.

Ollie sighed. “I warned you.” You didn’t understand for a moment, until he reached by the beds headboard and pulled an already attached silk tie out. One end was tied to the frame. An alarm went off in your head that you silenced immediately upon realising he’d prepared for some eventuality of tying you up. He quickly grabbed your right hand and started tying it tightly to the headboard. Now the panic really set in. It was too real. You started crying in earnest, blabbering and begging. You weren’t coherent. Even you didn’t know what you were saying.

It was too late.

With one hand tied, he snatched the other and repeated. You pulled and wiggled, but he clearly knew what he was doing. The ties were soft, and not tight enough to hurt, but the knots themselves were solid. He returned to slowly removing your pants.

“Please Ollie, it’s not too late, you can stop still.” You pleaded. You honestly didn’t know if you meant it or not.

“Baby, you know I can’t stop.” He replied in a patronizing voice. “I need you, don’t you understand that?” He pulled the sweatpants fully off, and you were left in only your little shorts that were basically underwear. The cold air answered the reality you had been dreading. You were soaked. Your shorts definitely had a wet spot. And if you somehow hadn’t been sure already, the look of pure, animalistic satisfaction that spread over Ollies face, solidified it.

“I knew you’d like it.” He said smugly. “I told you, i know what you like.” He leaned forward, knee in between your legs again. He brought his face next you yours and whispered in your ear. ‘I know you’re a desperate slut, just begging to be fucked into oblivion.” He placed his huge palm against your clothed cunt. The heat was tangible. “Luckily for you, I’m happy to oblige.” He teased. His voice cavalier and excited. It was like he couldn’t understand how far past ok he had gone. He raised his hand from your cunt and brought it back down in a swift, hard smack. You cried out, not able to stifle yourself. It devolved into a long drawn out moan. “You can’t lie to me, beautiful.”

He turned and kissed you, hard, frantically. His hands roamed over your body. He ground his knee up into your clit again. Your breath hitched as you tried desperately not to moan again. He pulled himself away and looked down at your still clothed pussy. He looked mesmerized.

Ollie slowly hooked his fingers in the waistband and tugged down. You pushed your ass into the bed, trying to keep the shorts from pulling down. He glanced up at you, a look of impatience on his face. “Lift.” He demanded. You relented. The shorts peeled from your skin, highlighting just how wet you were. You squirmed in embarrassment both from the exposure and the fact you were dripping. He folded the shorts and tucked them into his pants pocket. You didn’t miss that he had tossed all of your other clothes.

He leaned forward, hand reaching for you, but you started wiggling violently, trying to close your legs. “Wait, wait, Ollie, no you need-” He stopped and smacked your inner thigh, hard. You cried out, the tears redoubling. You pulled at your restraints and tried to push your legs from their positions on either side of him. He held them down.

“Do you need me to tie your legs up too?” He said condescendingly. You cried, not answering. “Hmm? And maybe a gag too?” He started leaning back, reaching for something behind him.

“No no no no, Ollie, that’s not what i mean, stop, just listen to me a second.” You begged. You sighed with relief when he paused and looked back at you.

“It’s just...” You started, then suddenly felt shy. He waited. “It’s just, you can’t touch me… yet.” He cocked his head, clearly perplexed. You wished you could hide your face. “You can’t.. I can’t…” He held your eyes, not giving you an out. “I can’t be the only one naked.” You spat out finally.

You don’t think you could ever describe the look that crossed his face then. You understood you were basically giving him permission now. And you were no longer fighting it in any way but for show. He had you, and he knew it. Thankfully, he didn’t rub it in your face.

Ollie leaned back up, until he was resting on his own legs, bent and still in between your open thighs. He smirked as he pulled his shirt up and over his head. You’d see him shirtless many times. It was a campground with a beach after all. But this time, with the settings, the circumstances, it was much more intense. The daylight filtered in through a window, and no other lights were on. Thin curtains stopped anyone from seeing inside, but did little for the light. He was muscular and toned, the light rays almost illuminating him. He was beautiful, and not overly ripped, but clearly did a lot of physical work.

The green of his skin was slightly paler than on his arms, but was replaced with a surprising amount of freckles. You hadn’t really noticed them before, but now that he was so close and you were hyper aware of everything, you saw how his skin was covered with tiny, barely visible freckles.

He started undoing the buttons on his pants. His cock was visibly hard through them. Your breath caught. You squirmed at the idea of being utterly taken by him. He hooked his thumbs under the hem of both his pants and boxers. He leaned up as if to pull them down, but stopped and raised and eyebrow.

“What do you want?” He asked, his voice leaving no room for defiance.

“Wh… what?” You asked.

“What do you want?” He asked again, enunciating each word.

“I…” you couldn’t believe he was making you say it. “I want you to take off your clothes.” You said, finally. “Please.”

He sighed hearing that, and continued pulling them down. His hard dick sprang out and it was huge just like everything else about him. You were halfway between excited and terrified. You didn’t think it would fit.

“Don’t worry love” he said, reading your expression. “We will get you nice and ready first.” He leaned over your body, his chest pressing onto yours. His dick rested against your thigh. He leaned in to your ear and whispered “and I’m not going to fuck you until you ask me to.”

He sunk two fingers deep into your cunt with no warning.

You cried out and arched your back. His fingers alone were probably thicker than any cock you’d taken. His eyes were glued on your face. 

“I love you so much. I’ve been in love with you my entire life. I tried dating other people, I tried letting them in, but I couldn’t. I always compared them to you.” He spoke softly as he fucked his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt. 

“I never felt safe enough to open up, and then there you were. Finally back. At first I was scared you wouldn’t recognize me. But you did. Then I was scared you wouldn’t like me, but you did. It was just like we were kids again. I almost kissed you that day.” You tried focusing on his words while he lazily thrusted into you. He was clearly not trying to make you cum. Just rile you up. You squirmed under his touch and words. It felt strange and alien to have someone want you so much. 

“I spent years telling myself if I ever saw you again, I’d talk. I’d tell you everything. About myself, about my feelings. But then I saw you, and I was a kid again. A dumb kid with a crush and no ability to do anything about it.” He kissed your neck and chest while he spoke. You felt worshipped. “It didn’t make it any easier that you’re just ridiculously attractive.” You gripped the ties holding your wrists. The fear was bleeding out of you with every word. 

His tone shifted. “I know I fucked up, I know I’m not… not a good person, I’m so sorry.” He sounded genuine. A pain you didn’t expect, while he was fingering you no less, laced his tone. You believed him, despite his apparent unwillingness to stop. 

“Ollie,” you said breathlessly. He paused his kissing and looked up at you. “We,” you moaned between your words. “We can talk about that shit later, ok?” You found yourself smiling at his dumb face. 

It was that moment you realised you might be just as crazy as he was. You wanted him to fuck you. It didn’t matter to you that a few moments ago you were crying and begging him to stop. You wanted him. You were pretty sure it wasn’t just because you were desperately writhing on his fingers. Pretty sure. 

He smiled back and slowed his movements until he stopped altogether. He didn’t say anything and just looked down at you, smiling like a fool. You whimpered and ground yourself against his fingers. He groaned in response. 

“I can’t believe you thought I wasn’t into you.” He teased. 

“I can’t believe a lot of things, ok? I’m a self conscious idiot, and you might be a crazy stalker, I haven’t decided yet.” He chuckled and thrusted his fingers deep into you, once. You moaned loudly. 

“Please.” You said, almost by accident. A dark, hungry look covered his face. 

“Please what, beautiful?” His voice had lost all joviality. He was dead serious now. The words he’d been waiting his entire life for, were so close. 

You squirmed on his fingers. He stayed still, staring into your eyes. “Ollie…” you trailed off. You looked away from him. You knew he was going to make you say it, but you really didn’t want him to. You felt embarrassed begging for him. 

“Please say it.” He asked quietly. You were surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice. Your eyes dragged back to his and you could easily see the precipice he sat on. A similar one you teetered on earlier. One simple sentence and you both could have everything. Fall into the reality of what he’d done, into the messy, scary world of pushing everything good away to hold a place for the bad he’d done and the way he’d hurt you. And he had hurt you. Or, you could both plunge into the fantasy, the dream, the feelings you’d longed for your whole lives. To belong. To be loved. To be accepted as you were. 

You took a steadying breath. You could see he was trying to not react yet, but the fear and worry in his brow was unmistakable. “Ollie, what you did wasn’t ok. And how you handled this wasn’t right. I honestly don’t know how to forgive you.” 

His face fell. He didn’t look upset with you. 

“But,” his breath caught as you continued. “I’d like to try.” You smiled softly at him. Your heart throbbed as he hesitantly smiled back at you. 

“Please, for the love of gods, please fuck me.” You spoke with conviction. 

He didn’t waste time. In seconds his huge fingers were replaced with his huge cock. He teased your entrance, coating his dick in your wetness. He leaned forward and kissed you deeply. It wasn’t desperate any longer. It was passionate and hungry and eager. 

He slid the tip of his cock into you and you groaned at the stretch. “Fuck you’re tight.” He practically breathed into your ear. 

“You’re so big.” You whined out. 

“I know you can take me, baby.” He peppered your face with kisses while he pushed further. His breath hitched as he claimed another inch. He was moving painstakingly slow. You knew he was doing it for you, to not hurt you any further, but he was also driving you crazy. Every bit he sunk into you, you were desperate for more. You wanted to be absolutely filled but him, to be taken and owned. You wanted his powerful body ramming into yours. 

You squirmed and tried pushing back against his cock. Ollie raised an eyebrow. “Please…” you trailed off. 

“Are you ready?” He asked, incredulous. You nodded and chewed on your lip. You gazed up at him above you. His eyes were heavy lidded and his face was flushed. He was so beautiful. He smiled down at you and gently cupped your cheek. 

And then he was inside you. He thrust the rest of the way, in one, hard push. You screamed, fear at being heard forgotten. He chuckled and covered your mouth with his hand. It dwarfed your face. He held your jaw while he pulled out and sunk back in. 

He set a brutal pace, pounding into you. The extreme stretch started feeling more comfortable and your screams turned to moans behind his hand. Ollie pressed his fingers against your lips and you opened your mouth. Two thick fingers played with your tongue. He worked them deep to the back of your throat. He held them there, slightly gagging you on them. He smirked. 

“Say it again.” His tone teasing but his eyes serious. 

“Say wha-at” you sputtered out between thrusts and his fingers. His smirk twisted the other way and he frowned slightly. His pace slowed and after a couple more thrusts, he stopped moving. He pulled his fingers from your mouth. “Why…” you panted. 

“Ask me to fuck you.” His eyes lit up at the prospect. 

“You just were, why did you stop?” You complained and ground your hips into his. He snapped his hands tight to your waist and held you in place. “Ollie…” you whined. You gave him the best doe eyes you could. 

“I told you what I want.” His voice was stern but you could read his amusement. He liked seeing you desperate for him. 

“Why do you keep making me say embarrassing things?!” You demanded. You tried moving on his still deep cock once more and his grip tightened to a painful extent. You’d have bruises for sure. 

“Keep saying them.” He leaned forward to suck on your neck. You gasped as he worked a dark hickey into your skin. You whined without words, desperately trying to instigate his movement again. He held you tight, moving down your neck to your chest, leaving a line of deepening bruises in his wake. 

You realised he wasn’t going to let you out of saying it before you finally actually started talking. You tried putting it off as long as possible but he wasn’t wrong when he said he knew how to make you feel good. You were getting past desperate and moving to unashamed and wanton. 

Finally, “Please Ollie, please fuck me.” He grinned against your skin. You didn’t stop. A string of only semi coherent pleas spilled from your lips. “I want to feel you cum in me, I want to feel you wreck me.” Some part of you still held onto that embarrassment, but mostly you didn’t care anymore. And Ollie loved it. The most beautiful sounds in the worlds were of you begging for him. 

He snapped his hips back into motion and your pleas shifted to half moaned words and expletives. You had been brought close and denied, your pleasure slowly building but never releasing, and whether he meant to or not, he had you at the brink in moments. 

Your orgasm ripped through you with almost no warning. You cried out his name and gripped his back, nails digging in like claws. Your passion threw him over the edge as well and he trapped your lips in a rough kiss as you felt his hot cum flood your insides. You felt more full than you even thought possible. 

You rode out your orgasms locked tightly together, his hips stuttering as the last few ropes filled your already full cunt. Everything that had happened, the emotions, the hormones, wiped your mind right out, and before he had even pulled out, you were dozing in Ollie's arms underneath him. 

**********

You woke, apparently hours later, since no light came through the windows. The room was dim, but the door was open and light spilled through from somewhere else. You were wrapped in Ollies massive bed, several blankets layered on and around you, pillows framing your body. It was like a cozy nest and you snuggled in deeper. 

The smell of food wafted in from the rest of the home and you thought you heard low humming. You couldn’t help grinning to yourself. You had a hot, huge half orc making you food after railing you? Yeah, you could get used to that. 

You heard soft steps coming towards the room and you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping to stay in this moment for a little bit longer. You heard Ollie pause at the door. He stood there for a few moments, not saying anything. Did he know you were awake?

You opened one eye just the barest amount, just so you could see. You hoped it wasn’t obvious. You told yourself it was dark in the room. You could see Ollie’s form, arms crossed over his broad chest. He leaned against the doorframe, face split with a wide smile. You still couldn’t tell if he knew you were awake. 

He stood like that for longer than you’d expected. Long enough that your pretend sleeping became real. You drifted in and out, hovering right between awake and asleep. 

You surfaced as you felt Ollie’s lips gently press into your forehead. You nuzzled against his face, and his breath caught. Ollie’s fingers danced along your jaw as you slipped back under. 

[repulsiveliquidation]

Alone || Leah Williamson

warnings : mentions of bullying, death, loneliness, rude namecalling. smut is at the end but i promise there is a happy ending. words in bold are from a poem above, but i can't remember who wrote it!

I like being alone was something that you always convinced yourself of growing up. Dad was always high on some binge drinking spree with his equally deadbeat friends and Mum tried her best to be a parent but with a useless father and barely any money coming in, you quickly learned how to keep yourself occupied and take care of yourself.

One day, the police showed up at your door and knocked. Mum stopped folding the laundry and you poked your head in just in time to hear the officers tell your mother that your father had tried to rob the local liquor store and was shot by the police who arrived on the scene. Having been ostracized from the community long ago due to your father’s behavior, the news of his death only increased the cold shoulder you and your mother got from the town.

Parents in your hometown seemed to teach their children bad manners from a young age; all the kids in school knew to stay away from you. No one sat with you at lunch, no one ever wanted you on their team for PE. God forbid you were paired up together for a group project, no one ever wanted your company.

Secondary school was rinse and repeat. No one sat with you at lunch, no one ever wanted you on their team for the science fair. Once, you were assigned the popular girl for the English project which was 25 percent of the class grade.

“You’re doing the whole thing yourself and you better not screw with my portion of the project, you got that you freak?” Megan warned, having cornered you in the girls’ changing room after class.

“I’d watch that tone if I were you, Meg,” came a voice from the end of the showers where you were cowering.

“Stay out of it Williamson or I’ll sock you!”

“I think you’re the only one about to leave here with a black eye Meg so I’d watch your tone.”

“You’re not defending the freak are you?”

“I’m doing what’s right, I’ve had it to here with your snarky attitude,” Leah challenged, grabbing the bully’s arm and pulling her away from you. “Leave her alone.”

“Fuck you, Williamson! Everyone will know you like the freak!”

“Call her that one more time and I’ll tattoo it across your forehead!”

Megan leaves the changing room with a loud huff and you hide yourself more in the shower cubicle. You’d never interacted with Leah Williamson before. You knew to stay far away from the popular girls and the captain of the girls’ football team was one of them.

Leah smiles kindly and reaches a hand out for you. You don’t take it immediately, half expecting her to make fun of you and demand you do her homework for her. Leah realizes this and shakes her head a little, sitting on the floor with you. You’re about to ask her to leave when she opens her mouth first.

“I’m sorry about her and all of them. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“I’m used to it,” you mumble, pulling your legs to your chest and hugging them.

“I’m Leah.”

“I know who you are,” you answer quickly, pushing yourself up to your feet. “You don’t have to pretend to be nice to me,” you say just as the tears threaten to fall. You do not need Leah to see them, it’ll give her one more thing to tell everyone about.

You grab your torn backpack and rush out of the changing room before she can answer you.

Leah stands there a little hurt, her efforts of extending an olive branch failing only motivate her more. She knew about the whole scandal or whatever it was that happened all those years ago but learned at a very young age that Amanda hated it all.

“You treat that family with the same respect you give everyone else, Leah you understand? No one deserves such unkind neighbors.”

You do not know what compelled you to sit in the stands of Leah’s football game against a rival school. There was a ticket in your locker with a note hoping to see you there. Thinking it was a prank, you wanted to throw it away but decided against it, which meant that the cloudy England sky and shitty concession food was your plan for the afternoon.

“Hi, you got my ticket!”

You had your eyes glued to your phone, your hat pulled down over your eyes to block out the stares you normally got. But that familiar thick local accented voice rang loud in front of you, you looked up to see Leah grinning at you with her mother Amanda right behind her.

“You put the ticket in my locker?” you asked sheepishly, watching as Amanda sat next to you.

“Yes darling, her father couldn’t make it and she didn’t waste it so she wanted to give it to you.”

You look up at Leah and her grin is almost brighter than it was before. She was all dressed and ready for the game, hand reaching out to pat your head before running back onto the pitch.

“I’m so glad you’re here, I hope you stay the whole game!” she yelled out, jogging towards the rest of her teammates.

“She didn’t have to give me the ticket,” you mumble under your breath. More people are staring now, you could feel it. Amanda reached around your shoulders and rubbed your back, smiling down at you.

“No, but she insisted.”

Leah was relentless in her pursuit of you. There were more notes in your locker that were not malicious. They were written in the same writing as the first letter that had a football ticket in it, always signed LW.

Soon the letters became more personalized and directly from Leah. People talked a lot in this town and word got out fast that Leah was making friends with the freak. She didn’t seem fazed, the teasing she could endure; the bullying you normally received almost doubled overnight.

Ever since Leah started giving you the letters in person, all the people who had crushes on her had increased their hatred of you.

You were walking home after one of Leah’s games, headphones in and head down like always. You didn’t see them coming for you and didn’t hear them either. Megan and her girls had followed you the whole way until you turned into a dark alley; it was a shortcut to your house and you’ve never seen anyone else use it before.

Carla pulled your hair first. You turned and before you could defend yourself, Megan slapped you across the face. Alice tripped you as you tried to run away, slipping face-first into a muddy puddle left by the rain that morning. Rebecca, the ring leader, grabs your shoulder and turns you around, eyes seething with anger.

“I have wanted Leah Williamson for a very long time, you pathetic little bitch. What the fuck did you do to her in that bathroom that day when Megan was beating sense into your stupid brain huh?”

“Being a bully isn’t a quality I look for in a girl, Becca.”

Leah stands there with her kit still on and her hair sticking to her forehead. Her hands on her hips and chest heaving suggest she ran all the way here. She looks down at you before stepping towards you and reaching a hand out to you. You take it this time and she pulls you up and into a hug.

“Are you okay?” she asks, brushing your hair out of your face. You nod and she cups your cheek, thumb rubbing over your cheekbone that was slightly red from Megan’s slap earlier.

“What did I say about testing my patience, Rebecca?”

“Leah, she’s the town freak! What could you possibly see in her?”

“Everything I don’t see in you, Becca. What would your mother say if I let it slip over tea next week that her precious girl is a sly little liar? She doesn’t need to know about your little stunt with the principal I walked in on last week now does she?”  

“Don’t you dare!”

“Then you leave her alone,” Leah sternly warns, eyes shooting daggers at the fleeing girls.

“Come on, I’ll take you home. I saw them coming for you after the game and I followed them. I’m glad I found you in time!”

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“I think you know I like you a lot more than you’re letting yourself believe.”

“Why me, Leah?”

She takes your hand and walks towards the main road with you. You see Amanda in the car waiting, shaking her head at the two of you.

“Are you okay, love?” she asks you as you climb into the backseat with Leah. She hasn’t let go of your hand the whole time, rubbing the back of your palm with her thumb gently. You like the feeling of her hot skin on yours, it’s such a simple comfort and you can’t even remember the last time you felt it.

“Yes, Mrs. Williamson. Leah got me in time.”

“Please dear, I’ve told you to call me Amanda.”

“Mum, can she stay over tonight?” Leah chirps, holding your hand tighter. You blush a little, looking at her with a single thought in your head; you deserve to allow yourself a little bit of love.

“My mum is okay with it, I can stay.”

“Great! I’ve put a set of clean clothes in the bathroom for you too so…”

“Thank you, Leah,” you say quietly, eyes avoiding her piercing blue ones.

“Of course.”

The whole night goes by perfectly. Amanda cooks a delicious meal that you shamelessly have three servings of. Since it was a Friday night, Leah insisted on movie night. There were throw blankets and pillows all over the floor but you were hesitant to cuddle close to Leah. Having not made a single friend in years, you were scared that one wrong move could ruin the little bit of joy Leah had given you in such a short period.

Leah however, could not hold herself back anymore and was honestly quite annoyed at you. She had been showing her affection towards you for weeks and you were still hesitant to reciprocate them.

“You don’t like me back, do you? You’re just doing this to be nice.”

You look at Leah in horror. No, no, no! This was not how it was supposed to go.

“Leah,” you start, sitting up. “No one has ever wanted to be my friend my entire life. I have my useless dead father to thank for that. When you started giving me those letters, I genuinely thought you were planning some long term practical joke but tonight you’ve shown me that you truly want to be my friend, maybe more.” Leah sits up too and you continue.

“I’m scared, I haven’t done this in a long time. I don’t want to make a wrong move and scare you away. I want you so bad, if everything you’ve left in your letters is true then I want this, I want us. When you scored that goal last week when you rarely do, you looked at me. You did a hand heart towards me and I genuinely thought you were showing it to someone else in the crowd but you pointed at me.”

Leah had tears in her eyes, the tough captain of the school girls’ football team seemed moved by your words. She leaned in and you let her, pressing your lips to hers. You were sure you felt fireworks and that she did too. Her lips were soft and she loved that you smelled like her body wash.

You pulled away and blinked fast, hoping that she wasn’t a figment of your imagination. By the time you’d blinked about fifty times, she was still there, her stupid smug smile on her face.

“I really like you,” you tell her, head leaning on her shoulder as you turn your attention back to the TV.

“I really like you too,” she whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as she pulls you into her side.

In the days that come, Leah warned all those who regularly mess with you that they now mess with her too. She also warned that if she caught wind of people calling you names, especially freak, they would go home with it etched across their faces.

\\

You’re sat at the dinner table with Leah in your home years later. Grace is sitting on her playmat, totally engrossed in her building blocks. The sunset pours into the living room and you’ve never been happier in your life.

There’s nothing in your life you’d want to change. You thank your lucky stars that the Lioness sitting in front of you took a chance on you that year in secondary school. Life had only gone up since getting together at 17. You went to college and Leah played for Arsenal. It was hard when you moved for a year to Spain to study but Leah fought hard to make sure the connection was there, flying every other weekend to see you.

The moment you graduated, Leah proposed in front of all your friends. Yes, you made friends! The Spain host family you lived with was more than welcoming and gave you a sense of belonging that you had never felt before. The little community you built for yourself gave you a chance to heal and forgive all those people who wronged young you.

She looked up at you with a face of pure admiration. The ring glimmered in the sun, the diamond was the perfect carat for her perfect girl.

“I have never been surer of anything in my life, will you marry me?”

“Yes!”

\\

You’re both standing at the altar, hands held in front of all your friends and family. The Arsenal and Lioness girls are rowdy in the front, cheering their captain on. She had just shared her vows and it was now your turn.

“When I was little, I convinced myself that I liked being alone. I was always the last to be picked, last to be called, sometimes the teachers forgot about me. By the time I was in secondary school, I had accepted that I was going to be alone all my life. Until I met you,” you look up at Leah and see that she’s already got tears in her eyes. You continue, feeling a little emotional yourself.

“I was sure that you were playing a prank on me, wanting nothing more than to humiliate me in front of everyone like they always did. I waited and waited and nothing happened. You saved me from those girls that day and in the car ride home I knew you were different. For the first time ever, I wanted your company more than my own.”

//

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop…”

“Never, babygirl,” Leah coos, hands gripping your hips from behind as she fucks into your pussy hard. You whine into the mattress and grip the sheets, pushing your ass back into her hips. She angled her hips just right, hitting your sweet spot just enough to send you right off the edge.

“Leah!” you cried, reaching back to hold her strong thigh. She was relentless, pounding you through your orgasm. She flipped you over a minute later, her strap pushed back into your sensitive hole just milliseconds after pulling out. You’re about to squeal about being sensitive when she wraps her hand around your neck so lightly. It’s barely there but her skin on yours sends electric shocks through your system.

You buck up into her and bite your lip, forcing her cock straight into your pussy. She gives you that smug smirk that boils your blood and gets to work, rutting into you with purpose. Her hands knead your breasts religiously, face buried between them in an instant. You cradle her head that rests on you, legs widening for her subconsciously.

Your body submits to her willingly and you can barely think when the hand around your neck gently tightens. Your eyes roll into your head and you grin deliriously, oxygen leaving your head as quickly as it gets there.  

Her hips, although practically laying on you, do not relent, pounding into your pussy obediently. Her harness rubs your clit just right and you can barely make a sound to warn her before you gush all over her cock and your thighs. She squeezes your neck just a little harder than usual and it sends you straight into another orgasm right after the other.

She only slows down when you’re shaking like a leaf and turning a little pale, kissing you gently. You grin and reach out for her, she pulls her harness off and settles between your legs. You pat her head and kiss her forehead, fingers running through her blond hair. She presses kisses all over your neck and you sigh, grateful for the chance at a proper life the woman in your arms had given you.

“I love you, Leah,” you mumble into her hair and you feel the captain mumble her answer into your neck. You giggle and settle into the warm bed with the love of your life, excited to see what life has in store for the two of you.

[velarisdusk]

Burning Desire

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Series Masterlist Part 4 <- ✦.⁺.✦.⁺.✦ -> Part 6 - Embers to Ice

word count: 17k (AAAAA?) content: [ explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV, BDSM, power dynamics, bondage, gags, sensory deprivation, pain play, spanking, paddling, flogging, begging, degradation, praise | infidelity, emotional infidelity, explicit language, alcohol, drinking, smoking (cigarettes, marijuana), bitches are fake as fuck, bad rebound choices, i.e. casually fucking someone who you KNOW has had an actual crush on you for years and not caring, the Vanserra family is a loving one in this he deserves happiness ] summary: In a depression following being caught cheating, a troubling phone call brings a harsh revelation. Distraught and in need of comfort, you turn to Eris, who's been trying to reach out since that night. He provides the emotional and physical escape you need. author's note: oh. my. god. i've been working on this for what feels like a decade i feel like years have been taken off of my life. school has been killer (negative), writing this was killer (positive), and i hope you enjoy >:)

It’s been two weeks.

Two weeks of rotting in bed, drowning in self-pity, and starting your days with cigarettes and bottles of rum. Over a week ago, you threw your phone into the drawer of your nightstand, barely resisting the urge to post a pity-filled story for your close friends. Before you essentially vanished, you noticed texts from Feyre and Mor. That was nothing out of the ordinary, but you didn't read them, dreading their content. Were they upset? Angry? What did they think of you? Were the messages even about the situation? You couldn't say if they knew or not.

You also received messages from Az, Eris, and Tarquin. Their concern surprised you, figuring that bro code would have outranked you on the list of priorities. But then, were they even still talking? If you were Cassian, you’d probably cut off all communication.

It was a complicated situation. They all worked together and had for years. They couldn’t just walk away; they were bound by contracts. You wondered how practice was faring if it was even happening. By now, they must have realized that Cassian wasn’t speaking to you. Whether they kept things private or shared the news with Feyre, Mor, or anyone else, you had no idea. You hoped they had the sense not to all come downstairs at once after your departure with Cassian. But even if they were careful, it must have been noticeable when they started reappearing suddenly.

Two weeks of these thoughts hurtling through your mind.

You haven’t told your mother why you showed up disheveled at her door in the night. How could you? You couldn’t bear to face her after admitting what you’ve done.

But as the hours stretch endlessly, a surge of loneliness (only the latest of many) finally drives you to your phone. You respond to the texts from Azriel and Tarquin, reassuring them that you’re as fine as you can be. When you open the text thread with Eris, you’re caught off guard.

Hey, just checking in. How are you holding up?

If you need someone to talk to I’m around. Seriously.

Look, I get that it might seem weird coming from me, but I’m genuinely concerned. No strings, I just want to make sure you’re okay.

I’m not trying to pry, but isolation doesn’t help. If you need a break from everything, my line’s always open.

You sit there, staring at the string of messages, each one making you feel a little more seen, a little more cared for. You aren’t even sure you want to acknowledge that right now. It’s almost too much, the kindness wrapped in Eris’ words, especially when everything else feels like it’s crumbling around you.

But Eris’ texts… they’re a lifeline, a small thread of connection in a sea of isolation. You pick up your phone again, reading through the messages once more, feeling the sincerity behind them. The idea of responding, of reaching out, is both comforting and terrifying. But the thought of facing all of this alone, of letting it continue to eat away at you in silence, is somehow worse.

Your fingers start to move, typing out a response before you can second-guess yourself.

you’re not prying, thanks for checking in. captain morgan’s been keeping me company lmfao

No sooner do you turn your phone off and toss it onto the bed beside you does the screen light up again with a buzz. That was fast.

Sounds like he’s good company, but maybe not the best listener. How about a real conversation instead?

You can almost hear the playful tone in his words, a lightness that cuts through the heavy fog of your thoughts. It’s enough to make you smile, just a little, even as the weight of everything else still hangs over you.

Another buzz and his next message appears.

Seriously, if you want to talk, my door’s open. No pressure, just an offer.

You can tell he’s trying to strike a balance, not pushing it too hard but still getting through your head that he’s there. It’s disarming in a way, and it leaves you wondering if maybe, just maybe, you should take him up on that offer.

thanks eris, i might take you up on that. it’s just… a lot rn, yknow?

There’s a pause, the seconds ticking by as you wait for his reply. You don’t have to wait long, and it’s as straightforward a reply as you expected.

I get it. You didn’t make the mess alone, just wanted you to know you don’t have to deal with it alone. And if you want to get out of your place for a bit, my offer still stands. You can even invite the captain as your plus one if that helps.

You smile at that, a small huff of amusement escaping you. The thought of getting out of your old childhood bedroom, of not being surrounded by the same four walls that have seen you at your lowest, is more appealing than you’d like to admit. Maybe a change of scenery, and the chance to talk things out with someone, would help.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you think about how to respond. Part of you wants to dive in and take him up on the offer right away, but another part of you hesitates, unsure how it would look if Cassian found out. You decide to keep things simple. You don’t respond.

Without paying any mind to the countless social media, text, and call notifications from your other friends, you open your texts with Nesta and make a FaceTime call. The thought of her blunt honesty is a small comfort in your otherwise bleak current existence.

Her face appears on the screen, and though her expression is one of surprise and concern, you can’t help but feel a twinge of relief.

“Where’ve you been? You look…”

She trails off, her eyes narrowing as she takes in your appearance. You glance at yourself in the small window at the top corner of the screen. Your eyes are puffy and red, your face is pale, and the bags under your eyes seem darker than ever.

“Talk to me,” Nesta says, her voice gentle but firm, as if trying to cut through the fog of your despair.

You draw a deep breath, the weight of your emotions pressing heavily on your chest. “I don’t even know where to start,” you admit, your voice trembling. “Everything feels like it’s falling apart. I’m a fucking mess.”

Nesta’s gaze softens further, her concern palpable. She leans in slightly, her tone soothing yet resolute. “You can tell me whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m here.”

The hesitation is palpable as you search for the right words, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. Finally, you find the courage to confess. “I messed up, Nesta. I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’ve ruined everything.”

Nesta’s expression tightens, her eyes flicking to something off-screen for a moment before she returns her focus to you. She runs a hand through her hair, a sigh escaping her lips as she gathers her thoughts. “Just... try to explain what happened.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions before asking, “Do you know what’s been going on?”

Nesta’s gaze momentarily shifts away, a flicker of something you can’t quite read passing over her face. “I’ve heard bits and pieces,” she begins, her tone deliberately vague. “But I’d rather hear it from you.”

Sensing her evasiveness, you decide to give her a broad overview. You explain the guilt and confusion you're feeling, how everything seemed to unravel and make the situation worse than you could have imagined. You describe the betrayal and the weight of not knowing how to mend things. By the time you’ve caught her up, your words are coming out through hysterical cries and gasps for air between sobs.

Nesta listens quietly, absorbing the emotional weight of your words. Her expression reflects a mix of sympathy and contemplation as she processes the gravity of what you’ve shared.

“I broke that boundary to hell, Nesta. I ruined everything.” Your voice trembles with the weight of your confession, the words feeling like a leaden anchor pulling you down.

Nesta’s brows knit together, her concern deepening as she tilts her head slightly. “What boundary…?” she asks, her tone gentle yet probing, as if trying to piece together the fragments of your unraveling story.

You swallow hard, trying to steady your breath, but a sniffle escapes you. “They’ve all been pretty flirty with me since the beginning, and Cassian and I… we decided early on that we didn’t mind it?” You pause, glancing down at your hands as you fidget with the red scrunchie around your wrist, twisting the fabric between your fingers. “So we’d just let them like… make comments… touch up on me a little–”

A sudden, sharp gasp crackles through the phone speaker, cutting through your words like a knife. Your eyes narrow as you stare at the screen in confusion. That sound hadn’t come from Nesta; you’d been watching her intently this whole time, and her lips hadn’t moved.

You furrow your brows, your heart quickening with unease. “What was that? Is there someone there with you?” you ask, trying to keep the edge of suspicion out of your voice, but failing.

But her face is the image of calm, save for the confusion in her furrowed brows. “Huh? Oh, it was just the TV,” she says, quickly flipping her phone around to show you the screen. The shaky camera reveals a reality show playing in the background, the exaggerated drama of strangers’ lives filling the awkward silence.

But your gut tells you something’s off. The way her hand shook just a little as she moved the phone, the tension still lingering in her posture. It all feels wrong. Despite her attempt to brush it off, the seed of doubt has been planted, taking root in the back of your mind.

Nesta flips the phone back to face her, and her voice is smooth and encouraging as she speaks. “So, what are you going to do? Are you going to talk to him?”

You hesitate, letting out a sigh as you rub your temple. “I don’t know. I’m scared of what he’ll say, or worse... what he won’t say. I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of rejection, Nesta.”

She nods slowly, her expression softening into one of understanding. “You have to do what feels right for you, but running away won’t make it any easier in the long run. I know it’s—and I’m sorry to say this—your fault, but you still deserve to know where things stand, even if it’s hard to face.”

You shift uncomfortably, the weight of her words pressing down on you. “I know, I just... I need time to think. To figure out what I want, what I’ll do.”

Nesta listens patiently, offering her quiet support as you continue to spill your thoughts. The conversation drifts from your immediate fears to the what-ifs. She shares some of her own experiences, her voice a mix of tough love and genuine care, giving you just enough space to feel heard without feeling judged.

The minutes tick by, and soon you find yourself leaning back into the pillows, the exhaustion creeping in. You talk about other things too, and an hour passes before you even realize it, the conversation winding down naturally, both of you running out of things to say. It’s a comfortable silence now, a brief respite from the storm of emotions you’ve been weathering.

“I should let you go,” you finally say, your voice soft. “Thanks for listening, Nes. I... I needed this.”

Nesta smiles, a touch of warmth breaking through her usual stoic demeanor. “Anytime. You know I’m here for you.”

You nod, feeling a little lighter, if only for a moment. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

As you move to end the call, you hear it—faint, but unmistakable. A voice, muffled but clear enough to make out the words: “No way–”

Your heart skips a beat, but before you can react, the call disconnects, leaving you staring at the screen, that single phrase echoing in your mind. The voice wasn’t Nesta’s, and it sure as hell didn’t come from the TV. You know that voice. It’s familiar in a way that makes your stomach churn, your pulse quicken. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks, a cold wave of dread washing over you.

It was Elain’s. You’re sure of it. You sit there for a moment, phone still in hand, your mind racing. But why would she be there hidden from view? Why wouldn’t she just say hello or at least make her presence known? The questions tumble over each other, forming a gnawing pit of unease in your gut.

Then, like pieces of a puzzle snapping together, the thought hits you: Elain was listening in, but she didn’t want you to know she was there. The secrecy, the way Nesta quickly tried to cover it up. It wasn’t just about eavesdropping. No, it felt intentional, like Elain was trying to gain insight into your situation with Cassian. Your breath catches in your throat as the implications sink in. A cold, hard truth begins to crystallize in your mind. She wanted to know the details because it mattered to her. It mattered because she’s involved—because she and Cassian are…

You don’t want to finish the thought, but it’s there, undeniable and ugly. Elain and Cassian. It explains the secrecy, the way Nesta tried to protect her, and the sickening feeling gnawing at your insides.

The weight of it is almost unbearable, pressing down on you as you sit there, phone in hand, processing the cruel truth that’s just come to light. Elain and Cassian. How? Why? You never saw any sign in their interactions before. The bitterness of the revelation is a sharp, relentless edge in your chest — you need to do something, anything, to shake off this feeling.

You push yourself up from the bed with a determined resolve, your mind racing with anger and the need to reclaim some sense of control. First things first: you need to wash off the remnants of the last two weeks, the sweat and guilt that cling to you.

The hot water of the shower is a welcome relief against your skin, and you let the steam envelop you, trying to wash away the emotions churning inside. You lather up, scrubbing away the sweat and liquor and cigarette smoke, letting the water run over you until you feel clean, both physically and mentally. You stand under the spray, letting the water cascade down your body as if it could cleanse the memories away. When you’re done, you run a comb through your hair, detangling the wet strands with care before blow-drying and styling it, every strand perfectly in place and your arms sore by the time you’re done.

You reach for your phone, fingers hovering over the screen as you debate your next move. Finally, with a deep breath, you type out a message to Eris:

you still up for company?

It’s simple, to the point, and carries the weight of everything you’re feeling right now. Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this, but you hit send before you can overthink it, nerves and anticipation bubbling in your chest. As you wait for his reply, you glance at yourself in the mirror, taking in the freshly styled hair, and the clean skin. You look entirely different than you did this morning. You’re someone in control, someone who knows what she wants. Your phone buzzes.

Absolutely. I’ll swing by and pick you up.

You weren’t expecting that, but you don’t hesitate before replying with the address. His response is swift.

See you in 15.

Your eyes linger on the screen, absorbing his words as you double-tap and leave a heart his message. Something is grounding about the certainty in his response. No hesitation, no questions, just action. You set your phone down and take one last look in the mirror, a quiet determination settling in your chest. He’ll be here soon, and you have just enough time to get dressed.

You see Eris pulling up through your window, the white Jaguar rolling to a stop, and you take a deep breath before heading toward the door. As you walk down the driveway towards him, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the car’s window. Jean shorts and a hand-cropped t-shirt—casual and understated.

Eris’s eyes meet yours as you approach the car, his expression softening with concern. There’s no sign of the smirk you usually see on his face. Just a steady gaze that feels sincere. He leans over the center console and opens the door for you, a simple gesture, but one that makes your heart feel lighter.

As you settle into the passenger seat, you set your tote bag down in the footwell. It holds a mostly full bottle of Captain Morgan, a pack of Newports, some gum, and a lighter you grabbed on your way out.

Eris’s eyes flick to the neck of the bottle sticking out of the bag before he asks, “Bringing the party with you?”

You shrug, offering a faint smile. “You did say I was allowed a plus one.”

He nods, his tone softening. “That I did... You okay?” he asks, pulling away from the curb.

You glance at him, a bit surprised at the shift from teasing to concern. “Not really,” you admit quietly.

Eris gives a small nod, his eyes still on the road. “Could’ve guessed the answer, huh?” he remarks, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly.

You offer a wry smile and a quiet “yeah.” You glance out the window as the sunlight reflects off passing buildings. “But I figured getting out of the house might not hurt. What were you thinking of doing?”

Eris keeps his eyes on the road. “I can swing by somewhere if you need to grab something or,” he pauses, a sly grin forming. “Or if you’re up for unwinding a bit…”

You raise an eyebrow, catching the playful glint in his eye. “What are you suggesting?”

He shrugs, one hand gripping the steering wheel casually. “We could stop by my plug’s place and pick something up, if you’re looking to take the edge off. He’s got some good shit.”

You lean back in your seat, considering his offer. The idea of numbing your mind with something other than liquor is very tempting. You glance at Eris, his casual demeanor giving nothing away, but you can sense that beneath the surface, he’s paying close attention to your reaction.

You nod, feeling a sense of resolve settling in. “Let’s do it. I could use a change of pace.”

Eris keeps his eyes on the road, but there’s a flicker of approval in them. “Alright, then,” he says with a grin, shifting lanes smoothly as he changes direction. His hands move with practiced ease, one gripping the steering wheel and the other shifting gears with effortless precision. You glance up from your phone just in time to see him reach into the center console. He pulls out a sleek pack of Dunhills, taps one out, and lights it with a quick flick of his lighter.

The cigarette sits casually between his lips, its ember glowing softly as its smoke curls lazily around him. “Want a cig?” he asks, his tone casual as he cracks his window.

You hesitate for a moment, then nod, reaching out for the cigarette sticking out of the pack. Eris passes it to you with a small knowing smile, his eyes flicking briefly to meet yours before returning to the road and lowering your window for you. You take a drag, the smoke filling your lungs and momentarily dulling the edges of your lingering unease. It’s quite the difference from the menthol kick of your usual Newports. The flavor is richer, with a deep, earthy undertone that’s almost woody. It feels more refined, less about the immediate hit, and more about a lingering, sophisticated aftertaste. You exhale, the smoke curling in the air, and the taste leaves a warmth that’s oddly comforting.

“Helps, doesn’t it?” he glances at you, a touch of curiosity in his gaze.

You exhale slowly, watching the smoke get pulled out the window. “A little… Thanks,” you say, and you both know it isn’t just for the cigarette.

Eris nods, his grin widening slightly. “Anytime. We’ve got a bit of a drive, so just get comfortable. We’ll hit the place soon.”

You settle back as Eris merges onto the highway. The sun is high, casting a warm light over the passing scenery. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the classic rock on the radio make for a relaxing ride. You gaze out the window, watching the landscape shift as the car speeds along. After finishing your cigarette, you hold onto the butt, not willing to litter. Eris is focused on the road, so you just hold onto it, unsure what else to do.

A few minutes later, Eris chuckles and glances over, eyebrow raised. “Were you going to hold onto it the whole ride? Come on, you can’t be serious.”

You give a small laugh, shaking your head. “Well, I wasn’t going to throw it out the window.”

Eris smirks, his eyes flicking to the cigarette butt in your hand. “Just give it to me.”

He reaches over, fingers brushing against your wrist as he tries to take it from you. But you’re quicker, pulling your hand away with a playful glare. “No!” you protest, holding the butt out of his reach. “You’re gonna throw it out the window!”

His grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans closer, making another grab for it. “I won’t, I promise.” And for some reason, you believe him.

He takes the cigarette butt from your fingers and, with a practiced motion, opens the center console and undoes the locking mechanism on a glass jar. He drops it in, the jar already filled with likely a pack’s worth. The jar seals with a soft click, likely why you hadn’t noticed any lingering smell before. He shuts the jar and console, his attention never wavering from the road.

The smell-proof jar, not even considering littering, doing it all while keeping his eyes on the road—it’s the kind of thing that shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

The drive stretches on with the radio playing softly in the background. You watch the scenery blur past as the car weaves effortlessly through traffic. With the windows still cracked, you catch a glimpse of Eris’s auburn hair tousled by the breeze. The sun casts long shadows across the highway, and you find a strange comfort in the steady rhythm of the drive. Eventually, Eris slows the car, steering off the main road and into a sleek, gated driveway. The place is an upscale, modern mansion with neatly trimmed hedges. Not what you expected. He parks near the entrance and turns to you with a casual smile.

“I’ll leave the car running,” he says. “Lock up, I’ll be quick.”

You nod, watching as he gets out and heads toward the front door. The gate closes behind him with a gentle click, leaving you alone in the plush interior of the car. After a few minutes, Eris reappears with a small, discreet bag in his pocket. He slips back into the driver’s seat, the bag placed neatly into the center console.

The car pulls out of the driveway, and Eris’s eyes flick toward you as he navigates the streets with practiced ease.

“Any special spots in mind, or are you up for anywhere?” he asks, the hint of a grin in his voice.

You shrug, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Nah, yours is fine.”

He gives a teasing scoff, putting a hand on his chest as he speaks. “My place is special, (y/n), you wound me.”

His words pull a genuine laugh from you. It really wasn’t that funny, but hearing your name on his tongue so casually stirs a nervous flutter in your chest.

“What’s so special about it?”

“Besides the view, or the pool, or the game room?” he pauses for dramatic effect, lowering his voice to a murmur. “Yours, truly.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Is that so? And what makes you so special?”

Eris lets out a soft laugh, his gaze flicking to you before returning to the road. “Well, I’ve been told I’ve got a talent for making things unforgettable.”

“Someone’s got a massive ego.”

He grins, his eyes glinting with confidence. “Guilty as charged. You like it though.”

You roll your eyes at that, unable to keep the smile from creeping onto your face any longer. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Ah, you didn’t deny it. I’ll take it.”

“You’re impossible,” you laugh softly, shaking your head.

As the highway fades into the background, the road before you begins to wind through lush greenery. The towering trees start to crowd in, their canopies forming a dappled, sunlit tunnel. Fields of wildflowers stretch out on either side. The road curves gently, revealing glimpses of a large, elegant house nestled among the trees, its silhouette framed by the tranquil lake shimmering in the late afternoon light.

When you step inside, the first thing you notice is how effortlessly cool the place feels—like it’s been designed with a blend of sophistication and laid-back charm. The living room is spacious and airy, with large windows that let in plenty of natural light, casting a warm glow over the polished wooden floors. The furniture is a mix of sleek modern pieces and cozy, oversized cushions that invite you to sink in and relax.

Eris heads over to a low cabinet and retrieves a small grinder and some neatly rolled-up papers from a hidden drawer. He moves with casual confidence, clearly in his element. You couldn’t help but wonder how many women he’d invited here for a smoke before you, having to remind yourself that this wasn’t that. You’re here as a friend who needs an attentive ear.

“So,” he says, flashing a grin as he begins grinding the weed, “what do you think of the place?”

You settle into the sofa, taking in the room’s ambiance. The walls are adorned with tasteful art, and the scent of cedarwood and something subtly herbal fills the air. It’s inviting.

“Not bad, huh?” Eris continues, leaning against the cabinet and looking down at the papers in his hand.

You chuckle, glancing around. “Yeah, it’s alright.”

His eyes dart up to meet yours, a playful, mock-surprised smile on his face. “Crazy…” he murmurs.

You roll your eyes with a smile. “Oh come on, you know it’s a nice place. I'm not gonna shower you with more compliments than you need.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he sits on the couch, starting on the joint. The sound of the grinder and the rustle of the papers are the background to your conversation. “Fair enough. But before we get too cozy with this,” he nods toward his work, “let’s talk. I’d rather hear how you’re really doing.”

You hesitate, feeling a bit vulnerable all of a sudden. “I don’t know if I can get through it all sober.”

Eris looks at you with a soft, reassuring smile, his fingers pausing briefly as they work the paper. “Just try.”

For a moment, you’re silent, the sound of the grinder filling the space between you. You look around the room, at the art on the walls, the low light casting a warm glow over everything. It’s easier to focus on that than on the storm inside your head.

But then you find his gaze again, and the quiet concern in his eyes makes something inside you crack, just a little. "It’s just… everything’s been so overwhelming lately," you begin, your voice soft. "I keep making these choices that… I don't know how to explain it… I’m digging myself into a deep, deep hole. And I don’t know how to get out." You hesitate as you try to find the right words. “It’s just… I don’t even know why I let it happen. I mean, I love Cassian, he’s everything to me. But every time I’m with you,” the words catch in your throat, and you quickly clarify, “with all of you, I mean… I feel like I’m losing myself, like I’m just drifting through all of it without thinking. It’s like I’m not even in control anymore.”

Your voice trembles as the floodgates open, the words spilling out faster than you can stop them. “And the guilt… it’s eating me alive. Every time I’d see Cassian, it was like I was drowning in it. When we went to sleep at night, when he’d kiss me, when we cooked dinner, when he’d tell me he loves me and I said it back with a straight face, knowing what I’ve done… I keep asking myself why I did it, why I kept doing it, but I don’t have an answer. I don’t even know if I’m looking for one or if I’m just trying to justify something that can’t be justified.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the weight of it all is too much. “I thought I could handle it, that I could keep everything separate, but it’s all tangled up now. I’m tangled up. And I don’t know how to fix it, or if I even can.” You pause, swallowing hard as you try to gather your thoughts. Focusing on how methodically he rolls the joint is the only way you can keep from crying. “The past couple of weeks have been a nightmare,” you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. “Every day feels like I’m just… going through the motions. I wake up, and for a split second, everything’s fine. But then it all comes crashing back, and I remember what I’ve done. It’s like this constant weight on my chest, and I can’t breathe.”

There’s a heavy silence as you finish, the room feeling almost too quiet. You glance at Eris, the exhaustion in your eyes reflecting your need for a break from the emotional turmoil. “I can’t keep talking about this right now,” you say, your voice wavering slightly. “I just need to… I don’t know.”

Eris nods, a knowing look in his eyes. “Yeah, I got you,” He stands up, moving with a relaxed confidence, and heads towards the kitchen. You watch him, feeling a small flicker of relief at the prospect of a distraction. He returns with two glasses of ice, setting them down on the coffee table before lighting the joint and pointing towards your bag for the rum. When you reach to pour the drinks, he gently takes the bottle from you, pouring them himself.

You take the glass when he offers it, the alcohol warming your insides and helping to dull the sharp edges of your thoughts. Eris hands you the joint, a small, encouraging smile on his lips. “Here’s to a temporary escape,” he says, his tone lighter now.

You take a slow drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs and the effects of the alcohol and weed start to mingle in your system. The combination is soothing, and you feel the tension begin to ease. As the minutes pass, you can feel the fog of intoxication settling in, and your thoughts become less jagged.

A while later, the room is darker now, the only light coming from the soft glow of the lamp on the side table. The drinks are empty and the bottle of rum you brought stands proudly, and emptily, in the center of the table. The joint is long finished, and the conversation has shifted from heavy to light. You and Eris are more relaxed on the couch, and the air is filled with more classic rock, the remnants of laughter, and the gentle hum of your voices.

You lean back, feeling pleasantly buzzed, the haze of the alcohol and weed wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth. Eris is sitting right next to you, his leg pressed against yours, his hand resting casually on the cushion next to you. The shared warmth and comfortable silence between you feel natural.

“You know,” you say, your voice slightly slurred but lighthearted, “I didn’t think I’d find myself here tonight, like this. But... I’m glad I did.”

Eris glances over at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Sometimes the unexpected turns out to be the best part of the night.”

You chuckle softly, the sound mingling with the music playing in the background. “Yeah, it’s funny how things work out. I definitely needed this more than I realized.”

He nods, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “It’s good to let go now and then. Just don’t forget there’s still shit to unpack when you’re ready.”

You let out a deep sigh, your gaze drifting around the dimly lit room. There’s a moment of hesitation as the weight of your earlier conversation looms on the edge of your thoughts. The alcohol and weed have softened the edges, but the heaviness is still there.

Eris shifts slightly, his hand moving a bit closer in the process. Whether it was intentional or not, you don’t know. “You know,” he says gently, “it’s not every day you find someone willing to listen without judgment. You should take advantage of that.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the pressure build behind your eyes. “Cassian… he’s been nothing but loving, nothing but kind to me. And it kills me, Eris. It kills me to look at him and know that I’ve betrayed him in the worst possible way. Multiple times.” You feel the lump in your throat as you continue, the warmth of the alcohol making it easier to let your words flow. “I keep trying to think of ways to fix it, to find some sort of answer or way to redeem myself. But...” Your eyes search the dim room as if trying to find some clarity in the shadows.

“I keep going over every moment, every decision, wondering where things went so fucking wrong. It’s like replaying a movie where I know the ending is tragic, but I can’t look away. I did this shit to myself…

“The hardest part is that he saw everything. He didn’t even need me to confess; he saw it with his own eyes. And everytime I replay that night, I think about how coldly he looked at me. He’s never looked at me like that before. Not that I don’t deserve it.” You glance at Eris, the weight of your emotions clear in your eyes. “I’m trapped in this cycle of guilt and regret, and it’s suffocating. I don’t even know what I’m looking for anymore—whether it’s forgiveness, understanding, or just a way to get rid of all this guilt. The thought of facing Cass again… God, I can’t…”

Eris’s eyes narrow slightly as he takes it all in, draping an arm across the back of the couch. You aren’t quite close enough for it to wrap around you.

You mentally chastise yourself for wishing you were. Thinking like that is what got you into this mess.

His voice is low but steady when he speaks. “You’re human. You made choices. Bad ones, sure, but it doesn’t make you a monster.” He pauses, his gaze intense. “It’s easy to get lost in guilt. But you’re not doing anyone any favors by going MIA. Especially not Cassian.”

You scoff. “Cass doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“How are you so sure?” he asks, his fingers drumming lightly against the couch, the rhythm steady and patient, unlike the chaos unleashed in your mind by the simple question.

The Facetime with Nesta shoves itself to the forefront of your mind as if your subconscious has been holding it back all this time. You’d heard Elain’s voice in the background, imagined her laughter mingling with Cassian’s, imagined him sharing her breath, his tongue deep in—

The thought hit you like a sucker punch, just as the air had been knocked out of your lungs the moment you’d put the pieces together.

“I’m pretty sure Cassian is fucking Elain,” you blurt out, your voice shaking with the weight of the confession.

Eris’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes sharpen. “Why do you think that?” he asks calmly, though there’s a new edge to his voice.

You swallow hard, the memory still raw. “When I was on a call with Nesta, I heard Elain in the background. She was trying to listen in on me ranting about this all to Nesta… She didn’t even say hi to me, didn’t let me know she was there. Why would she do that unless she was hiding something?”

Eris raises an eyebrow, his expression skeptical but curious. “You might be reading too much into this,” he says, but the sharpness of your gaze makes him backtrack quickly. “Alright, alright, I didn’t mean it like that. Just… how are you so sure they’re involved?”

You exhale sharply, frustration evident. “Cassian is incredibly vindictive in bed,” you say, thinking back to all the times he’d gone hard on you just for catching you making eyes at one of the guys. “I’ve been through his friends, I’d be more shocked if he didn’t try to go through mine.”

Eris’s eyes narrow thoughtfully. “Most of his friends.” He doesn’t elaborate but the implication is clear. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but it’s not always best to assume the worst.”

A fleeting thought crosses your mind. Eris is right. You and he never crossed that line, despite the heated moments over the years, despite the events the night of Ianthe’s party. If Cassian is dropping you off on your mom’s doorstep just to go after your friends, maybe it’s time for you to stop moping around and start embracing some fun yourself. Why should you sit at home and stew when he’s out there doing who knows what? Who knows who? For all you knew, Nesta had fucked him too. And, honestly, Eris doesn’t look half bad in that black, fitted t-shirt and tailored jeans, the thin silver chain around his neck glinting in the low light. There’s a roguish charm about him, just as there’s always been. It’s something that makes him undeniably tempting.

You look down at your lap with a sigh, a feigned sadness in your eyes, and a playful pout on your lips. “Well, if Cassian’s going to do whatever he wants, maybe I should too.” You look up, letting your gaze linger on him, lowering to his lips before meeting his eyes again.

Eris’s eyes flicker with surprise, but he maintains his cool as he raises a brow. “Is this where we’re headed now? I thought we were in the middle of something a bit more serious.”

You scoot closer to him, close enough for the hand on the back of the couch to rest on your shoulder if he wanted it to. “Maybe I’m tired of pitying myself. Or maybe I’m feeling adventurous.” A glint of mischief sparkles in your eyes before you slip back into your act.

Eris chuckles, a faint smile curling his lips. “A distraction, huh? You know that won’t fix anything.”

You shrug, maintaining your demeanor. “Who says it has to be about fixing anything? Sometimes a little distraction is just what you need,” you level. Tired of the theatrics, you scoot even closer and grab that god-forsaken hand, placing it gently on the back of your neck.

Eris’s fingers linger there, his expression shifting from playful to intrigued before he traces soft patterns on your skin. “Is that right? And here I thought you were just looking for a friendly ear.”

You lean closer, your voice dropping to a softer, more flirtatious tone. “You mean to tell me you didn’t have any other intentions? Not a single fleeting thought?”

Eris’s gaze drops to your lips, his eyes narrowing with intrigue. “So, what are you suggesting? Are we breaking some rules tonight?”

You let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, something like that. A night of enjoyment. No strings attached, just...”

Your words trail off as you close the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a slow, heated kiss. His hand grips the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. It starts slow, almost exploratory, but quickly deepens as you both lose yourselves in the moment. The taste of liquor lingers on his tongue, a heady mix of rum and something uniquely Eris. You savor it, letting the alcohol-infused warmth of the kiss sweep over you. Your lips move against his with increasing urgency, and you gently tug at his lower lip, pulling him closer.

Eris’s hand tightens around the back of your neck, his fingers sliding into your hair as he angles his head to deepen the kiss. His tongue meets yours with a bold, almost possessive stroke, and you pull back just slightly, your breath mingling with his. Your eyes lock, the heat still palpable between you. “I like the taste of you,” you murmur, a playful glint in your eyes.

He exhales, a low, throaty sound that’s part groan, part sigh, as if you’re unraveling him with every word, every touch. It’s the kind of sound that sends a shiver through you, making you feel like you’ve got him right where you want him. His eyes darken with desire and amusement before he leans back in to capture your lips again. This time, the kiss is more intense, a dance of passion and need. His hands roam to your waist, pulling you even closer. The world outside seems to fade away as you both lose yourselves in each other.

Eris’s lips trail down to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You arch into him, the sensation of his touch making you shiver. You let out a soft moan as he kisses a sensitive spot just below your ear, making your pulse race. You’re left feeling lightheaded from the drinks and the smoke, and every touch, every caress feels electrifying. His hands slide up to your back, pulling you tighter against him, if possible.

His lips return to yours, and this time, the kiss is unrestrained, filled with a raw, urgent need. You can feel the strength in his arms, the way he holds you close, as if afraid that letting go might make this moment slip away. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. There’s a breathless pause, the intensity of the moment hanging between you. “You said you were feeling adventurous,” he says, and you shrug. “How adventurous?” His voice is low and his words are laced with an intensity that wasn’t there before.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound almost breathless from the heated kiss. “You’re not planning on taking me out back and murdering me, are you?” you joke, looking out the large windows at the sea of tree silhouettes around you.

Eris’s lips curl into a half-smile. “Well, I hadn’t thought of it, but now that you mention it…”

You nudge him playfully, your smile widening.

Eris’s expression turns serious again, though the amusement in his eyes doesn’t fade. “I promise, nothing like that. But I do have something in mind that might be a bit… beyond what you’re used to.”

You look into his eyes, feeling a mix of anticipation and excitement. “I sincerely doubt that,” you say, your voice steady. You’ve had more than your fair share of sexual escapades, indulging in all kinds of experiences in past relationships. And with Cassian, the bedroom was never without a spark—rarely did things stay simple.

Eris’s eyes brighten with satisfaction. “Good to hear.”

He stands and grabs another joint he’d rolled earlier, offering you a hand to help you up. You take it with a playful smile and follow him.

The music fades as you follow Eris down a short flight of steps. The hallway is lined with eclectic art and framed photos. One with Eris surrounded by a bunch of dogs, a grin on his face that’s more genuine than you’ve ever seen. Another with the Vipers, his arm slung casually around Azriel, all of their faces flushed with victory. You have to talk yourself out of paying too much attention to Cassian in that one. There’s even one of him with who you assume is his family, standing in front of a cabin, all smiles and warmth. It’s a side of him you’ve never seen before, and it makes you see him in a different light—one that’s more personal, more real.

At the end of the hall, a large bookshelf stands against the wall. Eris pauses, throwing you a sly glance before reaching for one of the books. He pulls it, then pushes the bookshelf open, revealing a short set of steps leading down into a hidden space below. How cliché.

“After you,” he murmurs, gesturing for you to step inside.

You look at him with creased eyebrows, to which he only gestures his arm in again. You find a lounge, set slightly lower than the rest of the house, with five or so steps leading down into it. The room is richly decorated, with dark wood paneling, plush seating, and warm, ambient lighting that adds to the intimate, secluded atmosphere.

Eris follows you inside, closing the bookshelf door behind him. The room is completely private, a hidden sanctuary within his home. He steps closer, holding the joint he rolled earlier between his fingers. “What do you think?” he asks, his voice carrying a note of quiet pride.

You take a moment to absorb the space, your eyes drifting over the rich details—the king-size bed on the far wall, the soft glow of the lighting, the floor-to-ceiling mirror on one wall, the smooth texture of the dark wood, the way the room seems to envelop you in warmth. It's intimate without being suffocating, luxurious without feeling ostentatious. You notice cabinets discreetly integrated into the walls, their contents hidden behind polished doors. A smirk tugs at your lips as you turn to face him. “I can honestly say I wouldn’t have expected this from you, Eris. A sex dungeon? Really?”

Eris arches a brow, looking mildly offended. “Dungeon? That’s what you’d call it?”

You raise an eyebrow in response, your teasing tone unwavering as you gesture around the room. “Isn’t that what it is? Hidden room, dark wood, all the ambiance… seems like a dungeon to me.”

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Dungeons are cold and grimey. This is a private lounge, a sanctuary, carefully curated for… specific tastes.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound echoing softly in the room. “A curated sanctuary, huh? You really do have a way with words.”

Eris’s lips curve into a smirk as he reaches for your hand. “Words, among other things.”

He lets the words hang in the air, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. You arch an eyebrow, leaning in slightly as if challenging him. “Among other things?” you echo, your tone playful. “Care to elaborate?

He steps closer, his gaze steady and full of intent. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he replies, his voice smooth as silk. “But first, I need to know how far you’re willing to go.”

Your heart skips a beat, not out of fear but from the thrill of the unknown. You’re no stranger to pushing boundaries, and something about Eris’s confident, almost predatory demeanor only heightens your anticipation.

Instead of answering directly, you take a step closer, closing the remaining distance between you. “You really think this kind of thing is—What was it you said? ‘Beyond what I’m used to’, was it?” you tease, your lips curving into a smirk.

Eris’s smile widens, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “Alright, alright,” he murmurs before he pulls you in by the small of your back for another heated kiss, and he speaks against your lips. “You have full say in how this goes, I don’t want to go any further than you’re okay with.”

You pull him off by the hair on the nape of his neck, and the muted hiss that escapes him shoots straight to your core. “Oh, well if I’ve got full say,” you say, sarcasm lacing your words. “Give me whatever you think I can take, and then some.” You give him a dazzling smile, but he can only look at you in wonder.

His hands find your waist, giving the flesh there a tight, possessive squeeze. He leans forward, bringing his lips to your ear. “C’mon, pretty girl, strip for me.” His voice is low, almost coaxing, with a soft yet commanding tone that makes your skin tingle.

Though you’re surprised at his suddenness, you don’t hesitate. As you begin to strip away your clothes, Eris steps away, moving toward a large set of deep drawers. He looks back at you as he goes, drinking in your every movement as you peel off each item of clothing. First you shed your shirt, then the shorts, followed by your socks, underwear, and even the scrunchie on your wrist. The air thickens with anticipation as you wait, rather impatiently, to see what he’s looking for.

“Y’know, most guys wouldn’t have their back turned to the beautiful, naked woman in their basement,” you muse, examining your nails as you stand perfectly tall.

“First, it’s not a basement.” He turns to you, black rope in hand, his smirk tinged with an emotion you can’t quite place. “But you’re right, baby. I’m sorry. How about I make it up to you?”

You have to suppress a shiver at his words, or maybe it’s because of the cool air on your bare skin. He takes you in like it’s his first time seeing you, like he didn’t have you practically grinding against the heel of his hand two weeks ago. You’re not sure if it’s the substances in your system or the prospect of doing whatever he can imagine to you, but he feels different today than he had then.

Eris reaches into one of the drawers and pulls out a small, sleek controller. With a quick press of a button, a rig begins to descend from the ceiling, the soft hum of the motor filling the room. He keeps his eyes on you, holding the controller loosely in one hand as the rig stops at around eye level.

His tone is almost casual as he walks back towards you with the rope, the controller goes into his pocket. “Ever use one of these before?” You can only shake your head in response as you walk around the metal hook, thinking for the first time that you may be in over your head. “Good. Go ahead and kneel there for me.”

Eris moves behind you as you kneel, working the rope through the rig and instructing you to place your hands behind your back. The rope isn’t as rough against your skin as you anticipated. His hands work with practiced ease, securing your wrists together. He steps back, watching you with a satisfied expression. Then, with deliberate slowness, he begins to raise the rig, the rope tugging your wrists upward. The position forces you to stand as it continues to rise, his eyes narrowing as you do.

Once you’re in position, bent forward with your arms forced behind you, Eris steps closer again, his fingers tracing the line of your spine. “You look so good like this,” he murmurs against your ear. His fingers skim up your arm, lingering at the nape of your neck. His touch is almost tender, a stark contrast to the tension in the room. “Is it okay if I–”

“Do whatever you want,” you interrupt, your voice steady even as your heart races. “If I don’t like it, I’ll let you know. Just do something, please…” You needed a distraction from your thoughts, and the newness of this all was sobering you up.

A slow, approving smile spreads across his lips as he nods. Without another word, he goes to a cabinet, selecting a few items with deliberate care. When he returns, the scent of him envelops you as he carefully ties a blindfold around your head, plunging you into darkness.

You hear the soft rustle of fabric and the click of something plastic. Before you can dwell on it, the world goes silent as something is placed over your ears. The shift is sudden, disorienting. The subtle hum of the room, even the sound of your own breathing, everything fades away, leaving you in an almost eerie stillness.

The rope tugs uncomfortably, but not painfully, at your wrists, the tension in your arms pulling you taut. Your heart pounds, each beat echoing in your chest, reminding you of the vulnerability you’re allowing yourself. Then you feel it—a gentle tap on your jaw, followed by his thumb brushing against your lower lip, pulling it down slightly. You take the hint, opening your mouth for him. The next thing you feel is cool metal pressing against your lip as he slides a ring gag into place.

“If you need to stop,” he says after raising an ear of the sound-canceling headphones, “shake your head and I’ll check on you. Nod if you understand.”

Just as you do, the pad is back over your ear.

You feel the air shift as he moves around you. Deprived of your sight and sound, your body becomes hypersensitive to every touch, every brush of fabric, every subtle shift in temperature. The tension in the air is palpable, your anticipation growing with each passing second.

A light touch trails down your spine, causing you to shiver involuntarily. The sensation is followed by the warmth of his hand as it settles on your hip, steadying you. You can barely hear your own breath, the sound muffled and distant, heightening the sense of isolation. Then, a gentle tap against your inner thigh. You instinctively spread your legs, the vulnerability of the action sending a rush of heat through your body as his touch lingers, waiting.

Then, without warning, a sharp sting lands across your ass. Your body jerks in response, the sting quickly dissolving into a low, throbbing heat. The unexpected strike pulls a soft whimper from your gagged mouth, but before you can even process it, another comes, and then another, each one precise and measured.

The blows alternate with the soft caress of his hand, the contrast between pleasure and pain pushing you deeper into the headspace he’s crafting for you. The strikes aren’t overwhelming, but each one is enough to remind you of the power he holds in this moment, the control you’ve willingly surrendered.

You lose track of time, each sharp strike followed by soothing touches, the rhythm lulling you into a dazed, almost meditative state. The gag keeps your mouth open, forcing you to focus on the steady rhythm of your breathing, each inhale and exhale carrying a mix of adrenaline and endorphins. The warmth of saliva trickles from the corners of your mouth. The rhythmic stinging across your ass slowly transforms into a heated, throbbing warmth that radiates through your body. Each strike, followed by the soft caress of his hand, leaves you in a heightened state of arousal and anticipation, melding into pain and pleasure that lull you deeper into the experience.

Suddenly, the warmth of his touch disappears, and you’re left in disorienting solitude. The absence of his presence makes you acutely aware of the emptiness left behind, amplifying your anticipation. Without warning, you feel something cool against your inner thigh, followed by the unmistakable sensation of a vibrator pressed against your dripping cunt. It’s startling, and though you can’t hear it, you moan, loud and needy.

His hand is on your hip, steadying you as the vibrations increase in intensity. The buzzing becomes loud and clear as he gently pulls the headphones off, and you hear them thud as they fall somewhere. The sudden reintroduction to sound is jarring as the room’s noises flood back in—the loud hum of the vibrator, the sounds you hadn’t realized you were making, the now husky tone in his voice. Each sound is more vivid than before.

Eris’s voice breaks through this new sensory flood, warm and approving. “You’re doing so well for me, baby,” he murmurs, his tone a soothing balm. After being spanked, then paddled for God knows how long, between his calm, reassuring voice and the relentless vibrations against your cunt, you aren’t sure how long you’ll last.

His fingers replace the vibrator, brushing lightly against your clit. He teases your folds, just enough to drive you wild with need. You squirm against the rope, desperate for more contact, for release.

“You want more, don’t you?” Eris’s voice is low, almost a purr as he leans closer. His breath is warm against your ear. “Tell me what you need.”

He rubs slow circles against you, his fingers like fire against your skin. You try to articulate what you need, but the gag muffles your words into incoherent sounds. The frustration of being so close and unable to finish draws an exasperated groan from you, and he responds with a deep, dark chuckle. Eris’s touch withdraws entirely, leaving you in aching anticipation. The sudden absence of his touch is maddening, your body craving the completion he’s denying you. You can’t see him, but you can feel the warmth of his presence lingering near.

Minutes pass, or maybe just seconds—time has lost all meaning in this swirling haze of sensations. Without warning, you feel the sharp sting of a flogger grazing your inner thighs, just enough to remind you of his control. The flogger’s strikes alternate between gentle taps and more forceful hits, never quite enough to satisfy your growing desperation, but enough to keep you on edge. Each touch pulls you further into the comforting fog he’s woven, and your whimpers morph into sharp yelps of pain, each one more urgent than the last.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs, his voice laced with mock sympathy. “Does it hurt, baby?” His tone is tender, but there’s a sharp edge beneath it that promises much more pain.

You groan, the sound a mix of frustration and need, but Eris’s expression hardens. The flogger lands on your skin again, a sharp crack that reverberates through your body. He grips the hair at the nape of your neck tightly, yanking you closer until your breath mingles with his. You can feel the heat of him, the solid presence that’s both terrifying and intoxicating. His lips hover near your ear, his breath raising goosebumps on your skin.

“Do you have something to say?” he asks, his tone noticeably darker and more dangerous. There’s a tense, almost impatient edge to it, a sign that stepping out of line is not an option. “A complaint? Are you ungrateful for what I’m giving you?”

The flogger’s strikes become more deliberate, more vicious. Each one lands with a stinging, biting pain that blossoms across your skin, the sensations mingling with the ache of your muscles straining to hold the position he’s put you in. He’s toying with you, savoring your helplessness, the way your body trembles and arches under his control, the way your breath hitches in anticipation of each new strike.

“Who’s in charge?” he whispers in a slow, deep voice, every word dripping with malice. You try to answer, but the gag in your mouth turns your response into a pathetic, muffled sound. Your eyes squeeze shut in frustration, tears of helplessness welling up and quickly absorbed by the blindfold. You can’t form the words, can’t tell him what he wants to hear, and that only makes it worse.

He clicks his tongue, a sound of feigned disappointment, and tugs your hair again, forcing your head back. “Ah, couldn’t quite catch that,” he sneers, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.

You whimper, the sound a pitiful mix of plea and frustration, and he chuckles, a dark, cruel sound that sends a fresh wave of heat pooling in your belly. He’s enjoying this — enjoying how easily you bend to his will, how every strike of the flogger makes you jerk forward with a cry. He wants to see it all, the way you crumble under his touch, the way you surrender every last shred of control and hand your worries away to him.

“I control how this goes,” he growls. “You said you’d be good for me, baby. Did you lie? Do I need to stop treating you like a good girl? Because I can do that if that’s what you want.” The flogger strikes down in the middle of your back with a crack that feels like it splits you open, and you cry out, the sound desperate. Your body lurches forward, but Eris’s hand is still in your hair, holding you in place, forcing you to stay still, to take every single lash he’s giving you.

“Look at you,” he hisses, his voice dripping with condescension. “So fucking needy. You love this, don’t you? Being my little toy, something I can break however I feel like.”

The words cut deep, the filth of them sending shockwaves through you. You hate how true they feel, how much you crave the pain, the degradation he’s giving you. The flogger strikes again, harder this time, and your knees almost buckle from the force of it. But you don’t fall. He won’t let you.

“Oh, you like when I treat you like this. You like this a lot better than before, I can tell. You’re just a fucking hole, aren’t you?” he continues. “A pretty little slut who’ll do anything to please me. Do you even have any shame left, or do you need me to fuck some sense into you?” The flogger descends again, and again, each strike punctuating his filthy words. “I’m going to break you, baby. Turn you into the perfect little slut who’ll take everything I give and then beg for more. And you’ll love it, won’t you? You’ll love being nothing but my whore, thinking about nothing except wanting my cock.”

Each word, each degrading, filthy word, sinks into your mind, pushing you further into the haze of submission. The pain of the flogger, the sting of his words, they’re all you can think about. Your world narrows to just him — his voice, his hands, the way he’s tearing you apart and building you back up, molding you into what he wants, what you need.

He pauses, the flogger still resting against your skin, the rough leather a reminder of what’s coming next. He drags it slowly down your back, letting it scrape over the welts he’s already raised. The sensation is entirely new, a subtle pleasure and pain that leaves you trembling.

“You feel it, don’t you?” he murmurs, his tone a bit gentler now, but still laced with that underlying cruelty. The change gives you whiplash. “I can see it. You want to be good for me, don’t you? You want to show me just how perfect you can be.”

The flogger strikes again, and you gasp, the sound a desperate cry. But this time, he doesn’t stop. He strikes again, and again, the rhythm relentless. Each lash pulls you further from the chaos of your thoughts, dragging you into a dark, twisted place where nothing exists but him. The pain and pleasure blend together until you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

“You’re going to remember this, baby,” he promises. “You’re going to remember how it feels to be mine, to be owned. And you’re going to beg me for it again, aren’t you? You’re going to come crawling back desperate for me to use you, to turn that pretty little mind off and break you all over again.”

He’s right. You can feel it, deep in your bones, in the way your body responds to him, in the way your mind clings to every word he says.

Eris’s eyes never leave your face, his gaze predatory as he watches you fall apart for him, unraveling under the weight of his dominance. You’re exactly where he wants you — lost in the moment, completely detached from anything and everything happening outside these walls. As the flogger comes down one last time, sending a final, searing wave of pain through your body, you know that this is exactly where you need to be tonight.

Finally, when you’re trembling, he lowers the flogger and returns to your clit, the light, teasing touch of his fingers reigniting the fire within you. “You feel that, baby?” he whispers, his tone teasing. “Feel how wet you are for me? You like when I hit you, don’t you?” He drags two fingers up your center, gathering your slickness on them before bringing them up to your open mouth. “How badly do you want to come?”

You nod, desperate to show him how much you need this, but he’s not finished with you yet. “Tongue out,” he purrs, his voice a low, silky command that sends a shiver through your already trembling body. Without a moment’s hesitation, you obey, sticking your tongue through the cold metal of the ring gag. A string of saliva spills out at the motion, glistening in the low light, and you hear a soft, satisfied exhale from him.

Eris drags his fingers down your tongue, cleans them off inside your mouth, pressing them against your tongue. “Can you taste how badly you want it?” His voice is a dark, teasing caress, each word wrapping around your mind, sinking deeper into that place where only his voice and touch matter.

You can’t respond, not even attempt to, but the question is rhetorical anyway. He doesn’t need an answer; he knows. He withdraws his fingers, leaving your mouth empty, yearning for more. The loss makes you whimper, as does the ache in your jaw — a pitiful sound that he savors as he continues, his tone a mix of mockery and care.

“You can taste how good I’m making you feel, how much you love it when I hurt you. You want to taste something better, baby?”

Before you can process what he means, you hear the familiar flick of a lighter, the soft his as the flame catches. Your heart thumps in anticipation. A moment later, the smell of weed fills the air, earthy and heady.

Eris takes a slow, deep drag from the joint, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before he leans in close. His lips brush against the edge of the gag as he exhales, blowing the smoke directly into your mouth. It’s so unexpected, so sudden, that you choke, your body convulsing slightly as you try to inhale and cough at the same time.

The thick, pungent smoke fills your lungs, burning them and reigniting your high. You can feel him watching you intently, relishing the way your body reacts.

“Breathe, baby,” he murmurs, his voice deceptively gentle. “I want to see how much you can take.”

Your chest heaves as you fight to draw in air through the second cloud of smoke he blows your way. He chuckles, and with an almost casual motion, he reaches up and unfastens the gag, pulling it away from your mouth. The relief is immediate, but it’s laced with the residue of his control, the taste of smoke lingering on your tongue.

“There we go,” he coos, running his thumb over your wet, trembling lips. “Such a good fucking girl, taking what I give you. But we’re not done yet, are we? No, you’re going to give me more, right?”

His thumb presses against your lower lip, parting your mouth slightly, and you instinctively suck on it, the action almost automatic. Your body responds to him without thought, driven purely by the need to please, to submit, to give him everything.

When he finally, finally begins to untie you, his hands are gentle but firm, his touch careful as he releases the ropes one by one. The sensation of freedom is almost overwhelming after being bound for so long. But before you can fully process it, his hands are on you — supporting you and guiding your arms back down slowly and carefully. He pulls the blindfold from your eyes, and you try to readjust to the lighting.

He’s taking another pull, holding the joint between his lips as he takes you in. But that isn’t what stops you in your tracks. At some point during your immobility, he’d rid himself of his shirt, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from taking him in. His hair is tied back into a bun, strands having fallen loose around his face, and his chest is covered in a glistening layer of sweat. Images of Eris spanking you, walking around you and assessing where to land the next blow, of the muscles in his arms flexing as he strikes. The hungry look in his eyes and the tightness of his jeans as he watches you writhe under his touch.

“How do you feel, baby?” he asks, his tone teasing with an undercurrent of genuine curiosity. “Did I get you there? That nice little headspace where it’s just you and me?”

His voice is soft, but there’s an edge of satisfaction in it as if he already knows the answer. “Did it help?” he continues, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “Did I get you out of that busy little head of yours?”

You nod, still dazed by the intensity of the experience. You’d felt blissful before, sure, but this was entirely different. This was unadulterated endorphins and adrenaline. He grins, the expression both proud and wicked. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the lingering sensations.

But he doesn’t stop there. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Now, let’s see how long I can keep you floating, yeah? You’re not done yet.” Eris tosses the flogger in the general direction of the shelf it goes on, and guides you with a commanding yet gentle touch to a mat on the other side of the room, placed in front of full-length mirrors. The surface underfoot is soft and inviting, and he helps you kneel in the center, the plush cushioning molding to your knees. He moves behind you, his hands brushing along your arms until they rest on your shoulders, a comforting weight as he leans in close. He hands you the joint, inviting you to take a few hits before handing it back. The smoke in your mouth, in your lungs, it only boosts the floating feeling you have from the experience of this all.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety whisper that wraps around you like a warm embrace. “So beautiful, so ready. But I need you to understand something, sweetheart.” His hands slide down your arms until they reach your wrists, guiding them up to the back of your head. “I need you to be ready to trust me completely. How far I push you now is all about helping you relax, so you can completely lose yourself.”

He pauses, letting his words sink in, his breath warm against your ear. “This isn’t about making things difficult, not for either of us. It’s about you letting me guide you through this. I want you to be my good girl, to follow my lead and take everything I give you.”

His hands rest on your shoulders again, squeezing you lightly. “You’re going to do everything I ask, aren’t you? You’ll be obedient, you’ll let me push you, because you know I’m going to take care of you, don’t you?” His voice is soothing, like honey, and you can’t help but melt into it. “You’re going to give me all of you, every last bit, and in return, I’ll give you everything you need. Remember how you begged for this last time we were together? I want you to be that good girl for me again.”

As his words echo in your mind, you recall the last time you were with him, at Ianthe’s party. The memory is all too vivid — your desperate need, your willingness to surrender completely. You had been so open, so eager, voicing all your desires and pleas. The way you had let go of all inhibitions, the intensity of your submission, and the way your words had spilled out in a fervent, almost frenzied confession. The memory is as intoxicating now as it was then, all things considered.

His words are a gentle invitation, luring you in with a calm confidence that makes it impossible to say anything but yes. You feel hesitant as you consider the depth of your commitment. The tension in your chest tightens for a moment, but then you nod slowly, your voice soft. “Yes,” you murmur, the word barely a whisper but laden with an unspoken promise to embrace whatever he asks of you.

Eris’s fingers brush lightly over your hands, guiding you to interlace your fingers. He steps back to observe you, his eyes raking over your form, taking in every detail. The floor beneath you is hard, unforgiving, but his presence—his authority—keeps you grounded. The anticipation builds as he circles you slowly, like a predator assessing his prey.

“Knees wider," he orders, his voice still soft but with a firm undertone that brooks no disobedience. You adjust, spreading them further apart, feeling the strain as your muscles stretch. You watch him through the mirror, watch how he gives a satisfied smirk as you obey. You finally see how blissed out you look. A dewy sheen of sweat covers your body, your chest rises and falls deliciously with each breath, and your skin is red where you remember him flogging you. You couldn’t imagine what your ass and thighs looked like; red as fire, you imagined, if the lingering, stinging pain was anything to go by.

“Arch your back for me.” His hand is at the small of your back, applying gentle pressure until you curve just the way he wants. The uncomfortable position has you on edge, completely exposed, and yet there’s a strange comfort in the way he controls you, in how thoroughly he’s taking over your body and mind.

Eris takes his time, relishing the sight. “Look at you, already so perfect for me,” he purrs, his hand trailing down your spine in a slow caress that sends shivers through you. “You’re going to stay just like this, sweet girl, you hear me?”

You nod as he runs a hand over your head in a soft caress, trails that hand down your spine. Then, without warning, his touch sharpens—a sudden, firm grip on your hips, followed by the sting of his hand against your ass. The first slap is light, almost playful, but it quickly escalates. The next one lands harder, and he pauses to run his hand over the reddened skin, soothing it briefly before delivering another, even harder.

"Does it hurt, baby?" he teases, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "Or does it just make you want more?" He doesn't wait for an answer. Instead, he continues, alternating between sharp spanks and gentle caresses, pushing you to embrace the pain, to find pleasure in the way he’s handling you.

"You’re so good for me," he continues, his tone dripping with satisfaction. "Taking everything I give you. I bet you love it, don’t you? The way I’m making you feel?" He chuckles a bit at your lack of response. “You can speak now, sweetheart, I took the gag off for a reason.”

You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath. “Hurts…” you manage to whimper, your muscles shaking. “Hurts really good. I want more.” He spanks you again. Hard.

“Is that how good girls get what they want?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed and you recover from the sting of pain.

“No, I’m sorry,” you rush out, wincing from the pain of the spank, the soreness in your legs and arms. It’s too much. “Please, will you give me more?”

He takes one last, long drag from the joint, finishing it off and throwing the roach towards a bin. He drags his fingers down your back again, only to grip your hips and pull you further back, adjusting your position until you’re even more exposed, your knees straining to hold you up. The discomfort is intense, but the way he’s pushing you has you on the brink of something deeper, something more primal.

Finally, he moves in front of you, his eyes dark with intent. He cups your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. "If you want more you’ll have to work for it, baby.” You nod eagerly and he smiles endearingly. “You’re going to show me just how badly you want me," he says, his voice a mix of tender command and raw desire. "And you’re going to do it the way I like."

He steps closer, guiding your face until your lips hover just in front of the zipper of his jeans. "Open that mouth wide for me," he coaxes, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip before pressing it down. "That’s it. Nice and wide."

You obey without hesitation, the need to please him overwhelming everything else. He pulls you into him, his hand resting over your interlaced ones, rubbing your face and mouth into the denim. You feel pride at the way his cock grows stiffer without having taken him into your mouth. You can only imagine how good it must feel to get fucked by that cock, to have it slam into you from below when you ride him, to take it so deep down your throat you can’t even taste his release. A low ‘Now, look at that’ pulls you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see his arms crossed over his chest.

“I don’t even have to ask you to keep going,” he says, his voice laced with arrogance. Your ears turn red with embarrassment when you realize you’ve been practically nuzzling your face against his cock, but oddly, there’s a twisted sense of contentment mingled with it.

He takes his time undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, mere centimeters from your still-open mouth. No one can make taking jeans off hot. No one except Eris, apparently. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, but not too much—just enough to remind you who’s in charge.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him. His cock is hard and throbbing, a rich, warm shade of pink with a slight flush at the tip. The girth is impressive, making your mouth water with anticipation. It stands proudly, the pre-cum at the tip glistening slightly under the dim light. You lean in, ready to take him into your mouth. The heat and tension in the air are palpable, and you’re just about to close your lips around him when he gently but firmly grips your hair.

"Not yet,” he murmurs, a playful edge in his voice. “You’re in a hurry, aren’t you? I haven’t given you permission yet.”

You pause, your lips hovering inches away from him. Your eyes flick up to meet his, a mixture of frustration and amusement dancing in your gaze. “You’re cruel, you know that?” You drop your arms, the strain of holding them there finally too much. He notices the shift, but to your relief, he doesn’t say anything, letting it slide.

Eris smirks. “Cruel? I prefer to think of it as… thorough. You wouldn’t want me to rush, would you? A little patience never hurt anyone.”

Your eyes narrow playfully. “Patience, huh? I expect a good reward afterward.”

He raises an eyebrow, his grip on your hair loosening slightly. “Is that so? And what kind of reward are you hoping for, baby?”

“Something a little more satisfying than just this,” you say with a teasing smirk, your wit finally returning after being silenced for so long. “I’m thinking you could make all this worth my while.”

Eris chuckles softly, looking down and relishing the view of his cock hovering over your face. “I will, without a doubt. But you need to be patient,” he repeats. His eyes linger on you as he shifts, rubbing his cock slowly against your cheeks and lips. The touch of his skin is warm and firm, and each movement is calculated, gliding with a teasing pressure. The pre-cum at the tip leaves a subtle, slick trail that only adds to your arousal.

You feel the ridges and veins of his cock brushing against your skin. His touch is firm but purposeful, making sure you feel every bit of his arousal. He takes pleasure in the way your lips part involuntarily, the way your breath hitches with each stroke. Eris’s breathing grows a bit heavier, his gaze intense as he watches your reactions, savoring the build-up and the control he exerts.

As he continues, he lightly traces his cock along your jawline and over your closed eyelids, creating a delicious blend of sensations. The warmth of him mingles with the coolness of the room, heightening the contrast between the two. He pauses occasionally, teasingly pressing his cock against your lips or rubbing it against your forehead, only to shift and start again.

Your need intensifies with each passing moment, the teasing just shy of maddening. You try to keep your composure, but the craving to have him in your mouth is overwhelming. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you whisper, “Please… let me.”

Eris’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk, clearly pleased with your plea. “Now that’s what I like to hear,” he murmurs, his grip tightening slightly in your hair as he guides you closer. “Go on, baby.”

With a soft breath, you lean in, finally closing the small distance between you and him. The moment your lips wrap around the head of his cock, a soft groan escapes him, and it sends a thrill through your body.

Slowly, you take him deeper, your tongue gliding along his length, savoring the warmth and the weight of him. The slickness of his pre-cum makes it easier to slide him into your mouth, and you hollow your cheeks as you move. His fingers thread through your hair, guiding your rhythm, and you can feel the tension in his body, the barely contained control he holds over himself.

You focus on the sounds he makes—the low, husky breaths, the occasional hitch in his voice when you find a particularly sensitive spot. Each reaction spurs you on, encouraging you to take him deeper, to push the limits of your own control. Eris’s voice, rougher now with desire, breaks through the haze of your focus. “That’s it, just like that,” he praises, his grip on your hair loosening slightly to let you set the pace.

His hips start to move in time with your motions, a slow, steady thrust that matches the rhythm you’ve established. You relax your throat, taking him in further, feeling the head of his cock brush against the back of your throat. The sensation is overwhelming, yet you revel in it, the sheer intimacy of this act, the way you’re entirely at his mercy, yet completely in control of the pleasure you’re giving him.

Eris’s breathing grows more ragged, the tension coiling tighter within him. He watches you, his gaze heavy-lidded with lust, his usual composure slipping just enough for you to see how much he’s holding back. The knowledge that you’re the one drawing out these reactions from him makes you bolder, urging you to take him deeper, to drive him closer to the edge.

But just as you think he’s about to let go, he pulls back slightly, halting your movements. “Not yet,” he breathes, voice strained but firm. “I’m not done with you.” His words are a promise, and though you’re aching to continue, you obey, releasing him with a mix of anticipation and frustration.

Eris's hand slides from your hair to your cheek, his touch gentle now. He leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a brief, almost tender kiss before he straightens up. Without a word, he helps you to your feet, his hands steady and reassuring as they guide you toward the bed.

He lowers you onto the soft sheets with care. The roughness from before has melted away, replaced by something softer, almost reverent. As you settle onto the bed, Eris kneels at the edge, his hands gliding over your thighs, spreading them slowly.

He looks up at you, and there’s a tenderness in his eyes that makes your heart stutter. But just as quickly as it appeared, it fades away. He’s silent as he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips lingering there for a moment before he continues, trailing soft, slow kisses up your leg. Each touch is feather light, as if he’s savoring every inch of you.

When he reaches your core, he pauses, his warm breath ghosting over your most sensitive spot. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, and you feel a shiver of desire run through you. But instead of diving in, Eris takes his time, pressing a soft kiss just above your clit, then another, slightly lower. His lips are gentle, tender.

Finally, his mouth closes around you, and he begins to work with a slow, deliberate pace, his tongue moving in languid strokes that send waves of pleasure through you. There’s no rush, no urgency—just a steady, sweet rhythm that makes you feel cherished in a way that takes your breath away.

His hands slide under your thighs, lifting them slightly as he brings you closer to his mouth, his tongue swirling in a way that’s both gentle and utterly consuming. Each movement is tender, every touch filled with a quiet, unspoken affection. He takes his time, coaxing soft moans from your lips with each delicate flick of his tongue, each gentle suckle.

The pleasure builds slowly, like a tide rising within you, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge, not from overwhelming intensity, but from the sheer tenderness of it all. Eris’s name escapes your lips in a soft, breathy moan, and he hums in response, the vibrations sending a fresh wave of sensation coursing through you.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t rush you to the peak, but lets you linger in the sweet, tender pleasure for as long as possible. It’s only when your body begins to tremble, when you’re right on the brink, that he finally picks up the pace, his tongue moving with a little more pressure, a little more focus, guiding you gently toward the release you’ve been craving.

And when you do fall, it’s into the softest, most blissful release, the kind that leaves you feeling weightless and utterly at peace. Eris stays with you through it all, his mouth never leaving you until the last tremor of pleasure has faded, and then he pulls back, pressing one final, lingering kiss to your trembling thigh. When he does pull away, it’s with a soft, almost reluctant sigh. He moves up your body with the same tender care, his hands trailing lightly over your skin, leaving a path of warmth in their wake. When his eyes meet yours, there’s a softness there.

Eris doesn’t rush. He leans down to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours in a way that’s more about comfort than urgency, more about reassurance than demand. His mouth moves slowly, languidly, tasting you as if he has all the time in the world.

Your hands find their way to his back, sliding up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as your body arches instinctively toward his. There’s a quiet, almost reverent intensity in the way he touches you, his hands moving to cradle your face as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours.

He shifts slightly, his hand sliding down to grip your thigh, hooking your leg around his waist as he settles between your thighs. You can feel the hard, insistent press of him against you, the heat of his skin melding with yours, and it sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through you.

“Are you ready?” he murmurs against your lips, his voice soft.

You nod, breathless, your eyes meeting his with a trust that’s unspoken but absolute.

Eris presses a soft kiss to your forehead before lining himself up with your entrance, and with one slow, deliberate thrust, he fills you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and comfort, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as he begins to move.

He sets a gentle pace, his hips rolling in slow, deep strokes that leave you gasping. There’s no rush, no frantic rhythm — just a steady, measured movement that builds a different kind of tension. Eris’s hands cradle your face, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he watches you, his gaze never leaving yours. Each thrust is accompanied by a whispered word of encouragement, a soft murmur of praise that only heightens the intimacy between you.

Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, each roll of his hips sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. The world narrows down to just the two of you, the softness of the sheets beneath you, the warmth of his body above you, and the gentle rhythm of your bodies coming together.

Eris leans down, his forehead pressing gently against yours, his breath warm and ragged as he moves inside you. “You feel so good,” he whispers, his voice husky, laced with a deep sense of awe. “So perfect.” His words send a shiver down your spine, the intensity of the moment wrapping around you both.

He shifts his angle slightly, his hips pressing deeper, and you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders. The new angle has him hitting just the right spot, each thrust making your toes curl with pleasure. “Eris…” you moan, the sound of his name on your lips seeming to spur him on.

“Right there?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear as his hand trails down to grip your hip, holding you in place as he drives into you with slow, deliberate thrusts. “I want to hear you, baby. Tell me how it feels.”

“It’s so good,” you gasp, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “You’re perfect, Eris, just like that.”

His pace increases slightly, still measured but with a growing urgency that matches the heat building between you. Each thrust is powerful, and precise, and sends waves of pleasure rippling through your entire body. You can feel the sweat starting to slick your skin, your breaths coming out in short, desperate gasps as he brings you closer to the edge with every movement.

“Look at me,” he commands softly, his voice gentle yet firm, and when you do, you find his gaze locked on yours, his amber eyes dark with lust and something deeper, something that makes your heart stutter. “I want to see you when you come,” he adds, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, his thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek as his other hand slides between your bodies to find your clit.

The moment his fingers touch you, you’re lost. He circles your clit with slow, deliberate strokes that match the rhythm of his thrusts, his gaze never leaving yours, his lips curling into a knowing smile as he watches your reaction.

“Please…” The word slips from your lips before you can stop it, desperate for more, for everything he’s willing to give. Your hips lift to meet his thrusts, your body arching into his touch as the pressure builds inside you, coiling tighter and tighter until you feel like you’re about to snap.

“Please, what?” Eris’s voice is teasing, but there’s an edge of intensity there, a deep desire to hear you say it, to have you begging for him. “Tell me what you want, baby. I’ll give you anything.”

“Please, I want to come,” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you. “I need it, Eris, please.”

His eyes darken with satisfaction, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, teasing kiss as he picks up the pace, his fingers moving faster against your clit. “Then come for me,” he whispers against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you.”

That’s all it takes. The combination of his words, his touch, and the deep, steady thrusts of his cock send you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body clenches around him, your back arching off the bed as you cry out his name, the pleasure so intense it’s almost too much to bear.

Eris doesn’t let up, driving you through the waves of your orgasm with steady, unrelenting thrusts, his fingers never leaving your clit until you’re trembling beneath him, completely spent. He watches you the entire time, his gaze heated and possessive, a soft groan escaping his lips as he feels you come undone around him.

As your orgasm begins to subside, he leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, possessive kiss, his hips still moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and breathless. “So fucking perfect.”

You’re barely able to respond, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you manage to whisper his name, your hands gripping his shoulders as he continues to move inside you, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more urgent.

Eris doesn’t hesitate, sensing the way your body melts beneath him, still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm. With a smooth, practiced motion, he flips the two of you over, his hands guiding you to straddle his waist. Your limbs feel like jelly, weak and trembling, but he shushes you softly, his hands firm on your hips.

“It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm as he brushes your hair away from your face. “Just lay on me. I’ve got you. Let me take care of you.”

He pulls you down gently, your chest pressed against his as your head rests on his shoulder. His hands slide up and down your back, grounding you, before they settle on your hips again, holding you steady. You barely have time to catch your breath before he starts moving, his hips thrusting upward with powerful, controlled strokes.

The sensation is overwhelming as he fills you completely, the force of his thrusts sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You can feel every inch of him, the heat of his skin against yours, the strength of his body beneath you, and the way his cock drives up into you with unrelenting intensity.

“Eris…” you moan, your voice muffled against his neck as your fingers dig into his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he takes control.

“Shh, just feel me,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, guiding your movements as he continues to thrust up into you, each stroke hitting deeper, harder. “Let me make you feel good.”

Your body responds instinctively, your hips moving in time with his as he drives into you over and over again. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your gasps and his low groans, the intensity of it all threatening to unravel you once again.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, his pace relentless as he chases your pleasure. His hands roam your body, one sliding up to cradle the back of your head, pressing your face against his neck, while the other grips your waist, pulling you down onto him with every thrust.

“God, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice rough with need. “So tight, so perfect. You’re gonna make me come, baby. Just like that.”

The words send a fresh wave of heat through you, your body clenching around him as you feel yourself spiraling toward another climax. The intensity of his thrusts, the way he holds you so close, the deep, reverent way he whispers your name — it’s all too much.

“Eris, I’m…” you start, but the words dissolve into a moan as he slams up into you with a particularly hard thrust, your vision going white as another orgasm crashes over you, more intense than the last.

“Oh, you giving me another one, sweetheart?” he growls as he feels you tighten around him. “Let me feel you.”

Your body convulses in his arms as you shatter, the pleasure ripping through you with a force that leaves you breathless. Eris’s grip on you tightens, his own release just seconds behind yours as he thrusts up into you one last time, pulling out as he comes with a low, guttural groan, his cum spilling over your ass in hot, erratic bursts.

He holds you there, both of you trembling, your bodies entwined as you come down from the high together. His hands are gentle now, soothing as they trace patterns on your skin, his breath hot and ragged against your ear.

After the intensity of your release subsides, Eris’s touch becomes gentle and soothing. He cradles you in his arms, his fingers brushing tenderly over your back and sides as he presses soft kisses to your forehead.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and filled with concern. “You did so well, you know that?”

You nod, your body still shivering slightly from the aftershocks, but a soft smile plays on your lips. “I’m okay,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath.

Eris gives you a reassuring smile, his hands moving soothingly up and down your back. “Good,” he murmurs, his tone tender. “I’m here. Just relax, let me take care of you.”

He carefully disentangles himself from you, his movements slow to avoid startling you. As he rises from the bed, he gently helps you shift so that you’re on your stomach, your hips slightly elevated. “Just a second,” he says softly.

Eris heads to a nearby cupboard, opening it to reveal a small, built-in towel warmer. He retrieves a warm, damp towel from inside, the comforting heat emanating from it as he brings it back to you.

He returns to the bed and carefully unfolds the towel, its warmth a welcome sensation. “I’m going to clean you up now, okay?” he asks gently but doesn’t wait for an answer as he begins to dab at your skin. The warmth of the towel is soothing, easing any lingering tension.

His hands are gentle as he tends to you. “You’re doing great,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “Just wanted to make sure you’re all clean and comfortable.”

Once he’s finished, he places the damp towel aside and returns to your side, pulling the comforter over you both. He settles next to you, pulling you close and pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. You snuggle into his embrace, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence. His arms are steady and reassuring around you, and his murmurs of affection make you feel cherished and adored.

You finally find your voice, looking up at him with a tired but content smile. “That was incredible. I didn’t expect to feel so…” So good? So much? So intimate?

Eris grins, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

You snuggle closer, your head resting against his chest. “I feel like I’m floating. In a good way.” You mentally kick yourself — of course, it was in a good way. Who says floating in a bad way?

Eris wraps his arms around you a little tighter. “You deserve to feel this good. Just know I’m always here for you, not just for things like this, for whatever. Whatever you need, (y/n).”

You sink deeper into Eris’s embrace, the warmth of his body seeping into your own. The comforting weight of his arms and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest lull you into a state of serene contentment. The intensity of the earlier moments fades into a gentle afterglow.

As you relax, your thoughts begin to wander, drifting back to the complexities of your life outside this moment. Cassian's name surfaces in your mind, but it's quickly followed by the image of him with Elain. The idea of them together interrupts your peace. It should sting, but somehow, it doesn’t.

Instead, the memory of Cassian and Elain feels distant, almost abstract, overshadowed. You'll deal with it another time.

You shift slightly, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat. The world outside, with its complications and unresolved emotions, feels like it’s receding. In this moment, the only thing that matters is the warmth between you, the sense of being cared for, and the gentle hum of satisfaction that lingers from your shared intimacy.

Eris’s soft breathing and the comforting pressure of his touch anchor you, and you let yourself drift in the quiet aftermath, content that you’ve found a moment of peace and connection that you can hold onto.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist <3

@blessthepizzaman @celear @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @girl-math-aint-mathing @halo-hanging @julesvanslutta @lilah-asteria @meeperthejeeper @paleidiot @panther-girl-124 @secretlyhers @starlightazriel @scarsandallaz @uncxmfxrtablex @xxemmarldxx

[its-avalon-08]

it all fell down (ln4)

part10

multipart story! part1 part2 part3 part4 part5 part6 part7 part8 part9

✦ pairing - lando norris x female reader

summary : lando norris and y/n were friends for 20 years, fell in love and dated for five. until it all fell down. they left each others lives abruptly and never spoke again, until they met again in the most unexpected way. can they find their way back or will certain scars never heal?

As the night of celebration continued, the group of friends gathered around in a circle, drinks in hand, ready to share their favorite memories of Y/N. Laughter filled the air, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of love and warmth from everyone around her.

Lewis was the first to step up, raising his glass with a grin. “Alright, I’ll kick this off. Y/N, do you remember that time in Monaco when we were all at that charity auction, and you called a vintage painting an ugly piece of shit and the artist was sitting right next to you?!”

Y/N covered her face with her hands, laughing. “Oh my God, how could I forget? I didn’t even realize what I’d done until he turned around with that anger in his eyes. ”

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head. “The look on your face was priceless! But what really stuck with me was how you handled it afterward. Instead of backing out, you made sure to charm him and fix things and I’ve never seen someone turn an awkward situation into such a positive one. That’s just who you are, Y/N. Always turning things around for the better.”

The group murmured in agreement, and Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth in her chest.

Carlos was next, stepping forward with a playful grin. “Okay, my turn! Y/N, remember that time in Spain when you decided to join us for a game of football? You had no idea what you were doing, but you were so determined to score a goal.”

Y/N laughed, already knowing where this was going. “Don’t remind me! I was terrible!”

“Terrible? Maybe,” Carlos teased, “but you were also the most enthusiastic fucking player on the field. You ran around like crazy, and when you finally did score—by accident, of course—you celebrated like you’d just won the World Cup. It didn’t matter that you weren’t the best player; what mattered was how much fun you had and how much fun you made it for everyone else. That’s the Y/N we all know and love.”

Max stepped forward with a grin, his arm around Kelly, who was holding Penelope. “Alright, my turn. Y/N, I’ve got to say, one of my favorite memories of you is that time during the winter break when we all went skiing. You had no experience whatsoever, but you were determined to keep up with the pros.”

“Oh no,” Y/N groaned, knowing exactly what was coming next.

Max chuckled, nodding. “Yep, you wiped out so many times, but you kept getting back up. And when you finally made it down the slope in one piece, you had the biggest smile on your face. It didn’t matter how many times you fell; you just kept going. You’re resilient, Y/N. That’s what I admire most about you.”

Fernando took his turn, stepping forward with a small, fond smile. “For me, it’s the time we all went to that small, family-run restaurant in Italy. Y/N, you were so kind and patient with the owners, even when they didn’t speak much English. You made the effort to communicate with them in Italian, and they were so touched by it. By the end of the night, they were treating you like family. That’s what you do, Y/N. You make people feel seen and appreciated, no matter who they are.”

Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears as she listened to the memories her friends shared. Each one was a reminder of how much she meant to them, and how much they meant to her.

Finally, it was Lando’s turn. He stepped forward, his expression softer than usual, a mix of emotions flickering in his eyes. He took a deep breath, holding his glass a little tighter than necessary.

“My favorite memory of Y/N…” Lando began, his voice steady but filled with a warmth that made everyone listen a little closer. “It’s hard to pick just one, but there’s a moment that always stands out to me. We were in Austria, a few years ago, after a long, exhausting race weekend. Everyone else had gone to bed, but Y/N and I stayed up, sitting outside under the stars.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as the memory resurfaced, clear as day.

Lando continued, his voice softening. “We were just talking—about life, about the future, about our dreams. And then… it started to rain. Not a heavy rain, just a light drizzle, but enough to make us consider going inside. But Y/N, she didn’t want to leave. She just stood there, in the middle of the rain, arms wide open, laughing like it was the most natural thing in the world.”

A few of the drivers chuckled at the image, but the room was mostly silent, everyone captivated by Lando’s story.

“She looked so free, so happy,” Lando said, his eyes distant as he recalled the moment. “And I remember thinking… how could anyone not fall in love not want to be with someone who finds so much joy in the simplest things? She didn’t care about getting wet or what anyone else might think. She was just… her. And in that moment, I realized how lucky I was to know her, to share that moment with her.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as Lando’s words sunk in, the memory vivid in her mind. She could still feel the cool raindrops on her skin, hear the sound of their laughter blending with the patter of rain.

Lando paused, looking down for a moment before meeting Y/N’s gaze. “That’s my favorite memory, Y/N. Because it wasn’t about what we were doing, or where we were. It was about who you are. You bring light to the darkest moments, and you make the simplest things unforgettable.”

The room was silent for a few beats, everyone taking in the depth of Lando’s words. Even the drivers who were usually more reserved, like Max and Fernando, seemed moved by the sincerity in his voice.

Y/N’s tears finally spilled over, and she quickly wiped them away, smiling through her emotions. “Thank you, Lando,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you all.”

The group raised their glasses in a toast, the atmosphere thick with affection and nostalgia. “To Y/N,” Lewis said, smiling broadly. “The one who brings out the best in all of us.”

“To Y/N,” they all echoed, clinking their glasses together.

As the night continued, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. These people, these memories—they were what made her who she was. And as she glanced over at Lando, who was smiling softly at her from across the room, she knew that some memories were too powerful to ever fade away.

time skip

As the party wound down and guests began to trickle out, Y/N found herself standing alone in the softly lit garden, the gentle murmur of farewells fading into the night. The air was crisp, the scent of rain lingering faintly on the breeze. She watched as the last of her friends departed, waving goodbye with warm smiles and lingering hugs.

Lando had been one of the last to leave the terrace, and as he approached Y/N, his expression was unreadable. They had shared so many moments that night, both spoken and unspoken, and the weight of their history felt like a tangible force between them.

“Y/N,” Lando called softly as he neared, his voice cutting through the quiet of the night. His hands were tucked into his pockets, and he hesitated for a moment before pulling one out, revealing a small, velvet box.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She had seen boxes like that before—countless times over the years, usually accompanied by sweet words and gentle smiles. But this felt different, more significant, as if the box held something that had been waiting for the right moment to resurface.

“I, uh, have something for you,” Lando said, his voice low and a bit rough around the edges. He extended the box toward her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and the ground. “I was going to give it to you a long time ago, but… well, we know how that turned out.”

Y/N’s fingers trembled slightly as she took the box from him. She opened it slowly, revealing a delicate necklace with a small, intricately designed pendant— a small tulip.

Her breath hitched, memories flooding back with a painful intensity. “Lando, this is…”

It was THE tulip. When Lando and Y/N were dating, Y/N used to love tulips. She would buy new ones every week and decorate the house with them. The night they broke up, Lando had seen those tulips and sobbed his heart out. In memory of what he had lost.

“I bought it right before everything fell apart,” Lando admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never got the chance to give it to you. I didn’t even know if I should bring it tonight, but… I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer.”

Y/N lifted the necklace out of the box, the pendant catching the faint light. Her fingers traced the design, and she could almost feel the emotions that had been woven into every detail.

“Why are you giving this to me now?” Y/N asked, her voice cracking under the weight of the question. “After everything… why now?”

Lando took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. “Because I’ve been holding onto it for too long, and I realized tonight that I can’t keep pretending I don’t care. This necklace… it was meant for you. It’s always been meant for you.”

The tension between them crackled, the air thick with unspoken words and buried emotions. Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, her mind racing as she tried to process the depth of Lando’s words.

Lando stepped closer, closing the gap between them, his eyes locked onto hers. He reached out, gently taking the necklace from her hands and, with trembling fingers, clasped it around her neck. His touch sent shivers down her spine, the closeness between them almost unbearable.

“Lando…” Y/N whispered, her voice filled with a mix of longing and fear. She could feel his breath on her skin, their faces inches apart, and for a moment, it felt like time had stopped, the world narrowing down to just the two of them.

He looked at her with an intensity that made her knees weak, his eyes filled with so many emotions that it was impossible to discern one from the other. “You look beautiful, Y/N. You’ve always been beautiful.”

They stood there, inches apart, the magnetic pull between them growing stronger with every passing second. The tension was palpable, a mix of desire and hesitation, both of them teetering on the edge of something inevitable.

Lando’s gaze flickered down to her lips, and for a moment, it seemed like he might close the distance between them. But then he stepped back, his expression conflicted. “I should go.”

“No…” The word slipped out before Y/N could stop it, and Lando froze, turning back to face her.

Y/N’s heart was pounding, her mind spinning as she tried to gather the courage to say what she needed to say. “When I blew out the candles, I saw you and your curious look. Don’t you want to know what I wished for?”

Lando’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. “Don’t get my hopes up again, baby,” he said, his voice laced with a vulnerability that broke something inside her.

Without thinking, Y/N closed the distance between them, her hands finding his face, pulling him down to her level. “I’m sorry, Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “For everything. For what I said, for how I hurt you. But my wish… my wish was for another chance. With you.”

Lando’s breath hitched, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he searched her face for any hint of hesitation. “Y/N…”

“I still love you,” she confessed, her voice cracking. “I never stopped loving you.”

And then, as if the floodgates had burst open, Lando crushed his lips to hers in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. It was a kiss that spoke of all the pain, the longing, the love that had been buried for so long. Y/N melted into him, her hands fisting in his shirt as she poured everything she had into the kiss, letting it say all the things she had been too afraid to say. He lifted her up and her legs wrapped around his waist.

As if on cue, the sky opened up, and a soft rain began to fall, but neither of them noticed. They were lost in each other, the world around them fading away until all that was left was the two of them, holding on as if their lives depended on it.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads pressed together as the rain continued to fall. Lando’s hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had mingled with the raindrops.

“I love you too,” Lando whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “God, Y/N, I never stopped.”

Y/N smiled through her tears, her heart swelling with a hope she hadn’t felt in a long time. “So, does that mean you know what I wished for?”

Lando chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through her. “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

As they stood there in the rain, holding each other like they never wanted to let go, it felt like the beginning of something new—something that was worth all the heartache and pain they had endured. Because in that moment, nothing else mattered except for the fact that they were together, and they weren’t going to let go again.

taglist ---> @misspygmypie @kol67-t @sltwins @f1fantasys @sarx164 @imboredway2much @demandealalune e @elz-xo o @bellelovesharryy @hey-there9-its-me @marauders-wife @itsjustfranzi @l-sofiamia-l @ironmaiden1313 @01rrdbull @avni-sarai @maddy27

comment to get added to the taglist

[selfindulgentpoorlywritten]

My Sweet Girl (Matthew Tkachuk Imagine)

This is by far-- I repeat, by far-- the longest reader insert I've ever written. It's my submission for @wyattjohnston 's Winter Fic Exchange, a gift for @matthewtkachuk ! Excellent URL, by the way.

The creative process here went as follows: Shelbs shows me her On Repeat Spotify playlist -> I see The Band Camino on it and remember that I love that band -> I listen to nothing but them for two weeks -> I hear the song Know It All and am struck with inspiration -> I write this and inflict it on everyone else.

I jumped around a bit while writing, so please let me know if there's anything I screwed up! This is also the type of fic that has had 20+ tabs of Wikipedia pages, ESPN articles, and stats pages open on my computer for two months, but there was still information I couldn't find, so please be gentle with any inconsistencies.

Anyway, I truly hope that you enjoy this one! I apologize for being a day late posting, my job sucks.

Rating: M

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk/fem!Reader

Words: 26, 028

Warnings: a lot of angst

Contains: best friend's brother, friends to ??? to strangers to lovers, situationship, idiots in love, everyone knows but them, Matthew being kind of a dick, guest appearances by the Weinberg-Hughes family and Jane Gaudreau

Summary: As Brady's best friend, it was your duty to love and support him. You're pretty sure falling in love with his brother does not count as "support", but here you are.

-----

You weren’t expecting this to be as hard as it is.

Luckily, you’d been given a little warning beforehand, but apparently a week wasn’t enough to prepare yourself. Was it kind of fucked up that the news had to come from Brady, because Matthew hadn’t bothered to tell you himself? Yeah, kind of. Sure, Brady and you have been best friends for years, but it’s not like you’re not close with Matthew, too.

You hadn’t realized what was going on at first, convincing yourself not to be upset when Matthew’s texts slowed and his calls stopped outright. It had been the beginning of the playoffs, you reasoned, of course he was going to be too busy to talk to you as much. Despite the fact that communication between the two of you had never waned because of the season before. It was his first year on a new team, you’d told yourself, a team with a great shot at the Cup, at that. You could deal with missing him a little more than usual if that’s what he needed.

When you’d called him to congratulate him on passing the first round, he’d thanked you and wrapped the call up as quickly as he could. Seeing the 3:24:41 call duration on your phone afterward had felt wrong. It was one of the shortest calls the two of you had ever had.

You’d brushed it off, chalked it up to him being tired or busy. Then they’d won the second round, and the process repeated itself. A quick phone call, a few scant minutes. It had sounded like other people were there that time, so you’d convinced yourself that he would call you back when he was alone. He never did.

You got to watch Game 4 of the third series, got to watch them sweep Carolina to win the Eastern Conference. Your friend Terri had laughed and clapped as you cheered, jumping up and down like a child. She was a Carolina fan herself, but was good enough of a loser to hug and congratulate you despite it. She’d offered to leave so that you could talk to Matthew, but you’d waved it off. You knew he’d be celebrating with the boys that night, so there was no real reason to try calling. You’d shot him a congratulations text and spent the night smiling so much your cheeks hurt.

When you’d tried to call Matthew the next day, his voice had been hushed when he answered. You’d given him your congratulations, bubbling over about how well they’d played. It’s not the first time you’d had a phone call exactly like that, him letting you gush about his team’s play and basking in the attention. This time, he interrupted you before you even got a chance to really get going. His voice was still quiet, almost a whisper as he said he had to go. The wind was immediately taken out of your sails and you’d barely had time to say goodbye before he hung up.

At that point, you’d given up convincing yourself that everything was okay. Something was very clearly wrong, and you’d spent the next nine days trying to figure out what it was. You’d reached out to Brady, and he’d told you that he hadn’t noticed anything weird from Matthew at all. Knowing that, you’d tried to downplay what was going on between the two of you, lest Brady go bother Matthew about it. You don’t do well with embarrassment, so you’d preferred that whatever was going on stayed away from any third parties.

The finals started, ending rather anticlimactically ten days later in a 4-1 loss for the Panthers. Knowing Matthew, he was going to go straight back to his hotel room and beat himself up. For the last three, almost four, years, you’d called Matthew after every big win or loss, and this was his biggest loss to date. Yet your finger hesitated at his contact name, hovered over the picture of him with bedhead and a lazy smile. With how things had been going, you knew he probably wouldn’t want to talk to you, even if you hadn’t figured out why yet. But part of you hoped that he would, that everything to that point had been stress, and there, at his lowest, he would talk to you again, and everything would go back to normal.

That, of course, is not what happened.

He hadn’t answered at all. And when you’d tried a second time an hour later, it rang once before going to voicemail. That meant that he’d declined your call, but you didn’t know what that meant.

Two more days passed without you hearing anything from him, so you’d called Brady. All of this had been concerning, but that had been too much. Miraculously, you’d managed to stay calm when you spoke with Brady, sounding impressively level-headed when you relayed what happened and asked him if he’d heard from Matthew. Brady had seemed shocked at the situation, immediately calling Matthew after he’d hung up with you.

Thirty minutes later, when you’d received a text from Brady, your heart had sunk to the pit of your stomach, and it’s stayed there ever since.

Because what the text had informed you of is that Matthew hadn’t lost or broken his phone, hadn’t been sick or depressed or, god, lost in the fucking desert or some shit. It told you that he’d been with his girlfriend, and hadn’t wanted her to see him call or text another girl. Because, apparently, Matthew has a girlfriend now. And just hadn’t deigned to tell you.

When Brady had told you that she would be spending the offseason in St. Louis with Matthew, you’d tried to hide your shock. You’d cleared your throat and told Brady how great that was, even as you wanted to throw up. They’d gotten into town a few days ago, and you’d done your best to keep your distance. But Brady asked you to come to dinner at his parents’ house tonight, citing the limited time you have to see him before he goes back to Ottawa, and you couldn’t refuse.

So now here you are, curled up in a chair in the Tkachuks’ den, across from said girlfriend. Her name is Tessa, she’s 26, and she does remote work for a marketing firm. That explains how she’s able to pick up and go to St. Louis for three months, at least. She’s already recounted the story of how they’d met, a romcom story of spilling his drink on her dress at a party and getting to know each other from there. She talks about the instant connection, the way they clicked so quickly that she knew they were meant for each other. That part of the story was when you’d excused yourself to get a glass of water, just so you could stick your head in the fridge and take a few deep breaths.

Matthew and Tessa are on one of the couches, the older, comfier one. Matthew is propped up against one of the armrests, Tessa curled into his side, his arm around her shoulders. You’ve spent the night pretending not to notice the way Matthew keeps glancing at you.

Brady and Emma are posted up on the other couch, one on either side, Emma’s feet in Brady’s lap as she lounges. Emma is great, and does a great job at keeping the conversation going, despite how little you and the boys are participating. Tessa either doesn’t notice your silence or doesn’t mind, chatting happily about some film she and Emma have both recently seen. You’re pretending not to notice the looks Brady’s giving you, either.

You should really be trying harder. You know Brady wasn’t expecting you to curl up under a blanket and mope when he invited you, and he really is right about time being limited. You should be engaging, enjoying the time you get with the boys while you have it. You would, if you could open your mouth without feeling like you’re going to scream.

Eventually, Chantal calls you all to dinner. It’s easier once you’re all gathered around the table, somehow, and you’re able to talk a little. Chantal has always put you at ease, has always made you feel like just another of her children. If you had it your way, Taryn would be here too. She has a way of lovingly bullying you that always makes you feel better. Unfortunately, she’s visiting some college friends out of state. But you’re doing okay, you think, at acting normal.

Then you lock eyes with Keith, and any sense of ease you’ve gained flies out the window. You wouldn’t be inclined to say that Keith is the most observant person in the world, so the way he’s looking at you– like he knows something is very, very wrong– makes it clear that you’re doing an absolutely dogshit job at hiding your feelings. You look away from him quickly, swallowing hard and forcing yourself to talk even more. 

Maybe if you can just act normal, if you can push down the emotions and act like everything is okay, it will be. There’s nothing else you can really do about the situation anyway. Matthew has made it clear that he’s not interested in talking about it, so you’ll have to suck it up and deal with it on your own.

Dinner goes by a little quicker once you’re actually actively involved in the conversation. Typically, you help Chantal with the dishes after meals, but when you reach for the sponge at the sink, she shoos you away. She sends the girls back to the den, insisting that it’s the boys’ turn to help.

You curl back up in your chair, mind wandering as you operate on autopilot. You’re saying things, contributing to the conversation with Emma and Tessa, but you have no idea what you’re actually saying. Mercifully, they either don’t notice or don’t care.

This entire situation is fucked. What’s really getting to you, though, is how you’d been introduced. You’d walked in, giving out hugs to everyone except Matthew and Tessa. She’d approached you, shaking your hand enthusiastically.

“Matthew said you’re Brady’s best friend, right?” she’d asked. It was simple, innocuous, and true. Brady and you have been best friends for years, and that would be an adequate title in any other scenario. But it felt like a punch to the gut, knowing that after everything, Matthew had told her that you were just his little brother’s best friend. You’d glanced at him as she said it, and the intentionally cool, unaffected expression Matthew had in place still couldn’t hide the guilt in his eyes.

In that moment, you knew that he hadn’t told her anything about you, about whatever the two of you have been to each other for the past few years, and that he never intends to. There was a second where he’d made a decision, a second that you weren’t present for, that had cut off everything you’ve been to him and relegated you back to Brady’s Best Friend.

You want to pull Tessa aside, spill out everything. You want her to know that you’re Matthew’s friend too, that you’ve been more than that. More than that, you want Matthew to do it. You want him to tell her, to acknowledge whatever the hell you’ve been doing for all this time. You want him to admit that you’re something, anything to him.

Instead, you keep it all to yourself. The knowledge of everything between you and Matthew will live and die where it is now, in the minds of the two of you, and nowhere else.

June, 2018

You’re wiping down the counters when the man enters. You force a bright smile at him, still annoyed from the previous customer but doing your best not to show it. He returns the smile, approaching the register. You move to settle across from him, greeting him politely. The shop has a lot of regulars, but you don’t recognize this guy.

“I’ll be honest,” he says, giving a single nervous laugh, “I’m not really a coffee guy. Do you have any recommendations?” It’s not an uncommon question, and there aren’t any other customers right now, so you don’t mind.

“Do you like the taste of coffee?” you ask. He shakes his head. That eliminates about half of the menu, so it’s progress.

“How much caffeine are you going for?” you ask next.

“As much as possible,” he replies. The dark circles under his eyes could have hinted you to that conclusion. He has a laptop and notebook in one hand, down by his side. It’s normal for people to bring work along with them, and he’s definitely young, so you guess it’s probably school work.

“You could always do a triple shot latte with a flavor,” you suggest, your own go-to drink, “The caramel is the strongest. I can put in an extra pump if you want.” Technically, you should charge extra for that, but the kid looks kind of pathetic, and you feel bad. He can have a pity pump this once.

“That sounds good,” he agrees. You do the math in your head and punch in the price manually on the vintage register. The whole cafe is supposed to have a vintage vibe, a real hipster magnet. Math was always your weakest subject, but having to calculate totals in your head has made you a lot better with it.

Once he pays on the very not-vintage card reader, you direct him to the far side of the bar. You start on his drink, pulling shots with practiced ease. You’ve been working  here since high school, so you’ve gotten pretty good at making coffee. He doesn’t try to talk to you while you work, which is nice. There’s something oddly calming about his presence, though, and it’s helping your annoyance fade.

You hand off his drink, and he retreats to a booth in the back corner after thanking you. You go back to wiping things down, bobbing your head along with the music playing quietly over the speakers. It’s later in the evening, so you only get a few customers over the next hour. It’s one thing you like about working the night shift. Not many customers, and most of the people getting coffee around this time are tired enough to not give you much trouble, and are usually extremely grateful for the caffeine.

It’s quiet for long enough that you pull your stool up to the counter, pulling your textbook and notes out from under the counter. You start working on the homework for your summer semester, singing quietly to yourself as you read.

“You have a nice voice,” the guy from earlier says, suddenly standing in front of you. You jump, hand flying to your chest as if you’re a damsel in a period piece. You’d forgotten he was here.

“Thank you,” you say, once the surprise fades. You laugh a little, shaking your head. He laughs too, apologizing for startling you.

“Could I have another?” he asks, holding up his now-empty cup.

“Of course,” you reply, “Same cup okay?” You do your best to be environmentally friendly, so you don’t want to use another cup if you don’t have to. He says that’s okay, so you take the cup and start pulling another shot.

“Y/N,” he says absently as he leans on the counter, “That’s a pretty name.” You thank him again, dumping the first shot into the cup. It’s odd, because people are usually flirting when they say something like that, but his tone isn’t suggestive at all.

“What’s your name?” you ask, feeling like you should say something. You start pulling the second shot.

“Brady,” he says, extending a hand toward you. You look between his hand and your own, feeling rude but needing both hands to pull the shot.

“Oh, um,” you stutter, “Sorry, I’m–” He seems to realize what’s going on and retracts his hand, using it to rub at the base of his skull.

“My bad,” he says, shaking his head at himself, “I’m tired, sorry.” You smile at him, much more genuine than the first time.

“What’s got you so tired anyway, Brady?” you ask, dumping the second shot and starting on the third. His face twists at what you’d thought was an innocuous question. He’s clearly debating something in his head, so you stay silent.

“I’ve got something big coming up in a couple weeks,” he explains, tapping his fingers against the counter, “I’m just trying to be prepared.” You nod, not minding how vague he’s being. You don’t actually need to know every detail of a random customer’s life. There’s a moment of quiet as you dump in the third shot and pour some milk into a metal container.

“And I might be a little nervous,” he says, looking at his hands instead of you. You smile again, beginning to steam the milk.

“Just a little,” you repeat, slightly teasing in a way you usually aren’t with customers.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, looking up at you, “Just a little.” You smile at each other for a second, both knowing he’s seriously downplaying his feelings. You wonder what it is that has him so anxious, sure that it must be something serious. He doesn’t seem to be the neurotic type.

“What are you working on?” he asks as you pour the milk, gesturing toward your books spread out next to the register. You shrug.

“Organic chemistry,” you reply, pumping in the flavoring, “The worst class ever.” He cringes at the mention of it, which you feel in your bones.

“I’ve heard it’s awful,” he says.

“It is,” you confirm. You snap the lid back onto the cup, sliding it over the counter to him. He cradles it between his hands, but doesn’t move to leave. He’s looking up at you from where he’s hunched over, and you can’t help but stare back.

“Do you want to come sit with me?” he asks, “We could be miserable together.” The smile that overtakes your face mirrors itself on his own.

August, 2018

When Brady walks in, right at his usual time, you give him a smile and lean over the counter to hug him. You’ve become fast friends, sitting together a few nights a week, probably talking more than studying. His Big Thing is long past, and he still hasn’t told you what it was, but you don’t really mind. You get to know about his family and his girlfriend and his upcoming move to Ottawa, of all places, but you don’t need to know everything if he doesn’t want to share.

You make two of the usual latte, one for each of you. You grab your books from the shelf, meeting him at the corner booth. You get through some small talk as you both set up, going back and forth with an ease that you were surprised to find has been there since the beginning.

“Matthew’s going to come hang out tonight,” he says as he logs into his computer. He’s spoken about his brother before, so you’re somewhat intrigued.

“Any particular reason?” you ask. To your knowledge, Matthew has never been to the shop, so you’re not sure if something special is going on to spur him into coming.

“He thinks it sounds cool,” Brady shrugs, flipping his notebook open. Maybe you’d know what he’s always working on if you could read his tiny chicken scratch. As it is, you don’t mind letting him have his secrets.

You get four pages into your chapter before another customer enters, laying your pen in the divot between the pages while you go make them their drink. Luckily, they don’t stick around. It’s not awful when other people are around, but you always feel like someone is going to complain about you sitting in the dining room and studying while you should be working. But if there’s no work to be done, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. Unfortunately, not everyone agrees. So you prefer if it’s just you and Brady.

Another four pages drag by, reading interspersed with breaks to talk. Honestly, the breaks are also a way to keep yourself sane as you read unnecessarily complicated science.

When the next customer enters, you spring up from your chair, shooting them a smile as you make your way behind the counter. You give your standard greeting, asking what you can get them.

“What do you recommend?” the man asks. You were kind of hoping he’d have something in mind so that this interaction could go quickly, because he may be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen and it’s making you flustered.

“Do you like the taste of coffee?” you ask. He nods, looking you up and down with a critical eye. It feels personal, feels like he’s searching for something, and you’re not sure if you like it.

“How much caffeine are you looking for?” you ask next. You do your best to maintain eye contact, ignoring the way you have to look up to do so.

“How much you got?” he asks in return. The crooked smile he gives you makes your stomach flip. You grasp for a drink to suggest, all knowledge having fled your mind in order to focus on the curl of his hair over his forehead, the glint of his bright eyes.

“A Lazy Eye would probably be the most,” you say, clearing your throat, “But if you don’t want to have a heart attack, you could do a regular Red Eye.” He tilts his head, smile turning smug, as if he’s noticed your distraction. Something about it snaps you out of your daze, slightly indignant. You’ve seen plenty of hot guys in your day, and you’re not about to look like a fool in front of him just because he’s pretty.

“Red Eye, Black Eye, Dripped Eye, Lazy Eye,” you list off with as much confidence as you can muster, “Each with one more shot than the last. Pick your poison.” Your attitude change only makes him smile wider. Your hand is poised over the buttons of the register, ready to ring up whatever he decides.

“Let’s go with a Black Eye,” he says, bearing a surprisingly sharp canine, “I’ve had a few of those in my time.” That doesn’t surprise you, with his smug face and oozing self-confidence. Something about it feels so disingenuous that it makes your teeth itch. It’s clearly an act, but you can’t exactly call him on it.

You give him his total, he pays, you get to work. You empty the last dregs of coffee in the pot into the sink and set the machine to brew a new batch. No matter how annoying a customer seems, you’re not about to serve them shitty coffee.

“Y/N,” he says, leaning on the counter, “That’s a pretty name.” It’s exactly what Brady had said when you’d met him, which makes you eye the man a little suspiciously. Whereas Brady had clearly not been flirting when he’d said it, this man’s tone is ambiguous enough that you’re not entirely sure what his intentions are.

“Thank you,” you say, dumping the first shot of espresso into the cup. Normally, you would ask for his name in return, but you’re not sure if you want to encourage him talking to you.

“How long have you worked here?” he asks anyway.

“Almost three years,” you reply. You’re not sure you want to tell him anything about your life, but you’re trying to be polite.

“Experienced,” he says, smiling like he’s a lion closing in on its prey, “I like that.” It’s cheesy and kind of sleazy, and you can’t help but scoff in disbelief. He’s watching you like a hawk, studying your reactions to everything he says and does. You dump the second shot, wishing the coffee would brew faster so this interaction could be over.

“I don’t think I want to know what else you like,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You used to get embarrassed and rattled by customers making comments like this, but at some point something had changed inside you. Now you just get annoyed, no matter how hot the person may be.

“Feisty,” he says, smile changing slightly in a way you can’t parse, “I like that too.” You roll your eyes, making a quiet noise of disgust. It’s not great for business to react to customers this way, but you can’t help it.

“I like it when men are silent,” you reply, able to feel how withering your gaze is. His expression changes yet again, smile getting smaller but more genuine, scrunching the bottom of his eyes up a little. That feels more natural to you, looks more right on his face. Something about the new softness in his eyes soothes something inside of you.

The coffee machine beeps to signal that it’s ready, and you waste no time in grabbing the pot and filling the cup. You hand it off to him, giving your biggest, most obviously fake smile.

“Have a fantastic night,” you say, immediately rounding the counter and heading back to the booth. When you settle back into your seat, Brady is smiling at you like you’ve told the funniest joke in the world.

“What?” you ask, picking up your pen. Brady’s eyes flick up above your head, slightly to the left, staying there, prompting you to turn around. The man is standing behind you, small smile still in place.

“Brady’s told me so much about you,” he says, and it dawns on you, “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Matthew.” Your jaw falls open and you turn back to Brady, kicking him in the shin under the table. He yelps; Matthew laughs.

“You’re both the worst,” you spit, trying to hold onto your irritation and failing. You laugh alongside the brothers, begrudgingly amused by the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Sorry about that back there,” Matthew apologizes, seemingly genuine, “I couldn’t help myself.” You shake your head at him as he bullies Brady further into the booth so he can sit. Brady shoves him back, but moves his things over anyway.

“It’s okay,” you say, pointing at him, “But if you ever pull that shit again, I’m banning you from the shop.” That startles a laugh out of him.

“I didn’t know you had the power to do that,” he replies, using his crossed arms to lean on the table.

“I do now,” you say, tilting your chin up, “Gonna put a picture up of you with a big X on it and everything.” You stare at each other for a second, and he breaks first, ducking his head as he laughs.

“Fair enough,” he concedes, looking up at you through his lashes. Your heart skips a beat, but you do your best to seem unaffected. This is your friend’s brother, for Christ’s sake. You can’t be all aflutter over him. You’re not sure you have a choice in the matter.

June, 2023

You might actually kill your coworker one day. He’s such a smug rat bastard, and every meeting including both of you makes you think you’re going to grind your teeth into dust. It’s just lucky that the job is remote, so you don’t have to be around him physically. Probably best for both your sanity and his safety.

“I mean, at least you were right in the end?” Terri says, sounding uncertain through your headphones. You’re sauteeing some onions and peppers, moving them around more than you should be just for something to do with your hands.

“Yeah, I guess,” you sigh, “I just don’t understand why he wants to make me look bad.” Ian– the coworker– seems to always have some kind of comment on your work, some type of criticism. Constructive criticism is part of the game, but his is never constructive. It doesn’t help that you’re the only two in the graphics department, so he’s always there when you present work. And really, being the only two should mean that you work together and support each other, honestly.

“Because he’s an insecure man-child,” Terri replies easily. You shake your head down at the vegetables, startling as the oven timer goes off. You jab at the button to turn it off, opening the door to remove the chicken.

“I think I’ve had enough of insecure man-children,” you grumble. You cut open one of the chicken breasts with more force than is strictly necessary, grateful that it seems to be done.

“You finally wanna talk about that?” Terri asks, and honestly? No, you don’t. Ideally, you’ll never talk about it, just push it down into the darkest recesses of your mind and bury it there. Unfortunately, you possess some level of emotional maturity, which means you know that you have to talk about it eventually.

It’s hard, because despite Brady being your best friend, you can’t exactly talk to him about this. If he knew any part of what’s been going on, he’d probably go physically fight Matthew on your behalf. Part of you thinks that might actually make you feel a little better. But he’d also probably be mad that you’ve had a not-thing with his brother, and that would make you feel worse.

“She seems like a nice woman,” you say, trying to keep your tone neutral. Terri sighs, and you take your plate of food to the living room to eat.

“She’s not the problem, here,” she says. She’s right, and you know it. You really don’t have anything against Tessa, and obviously you can’t blame her for any of this. Clearly, she had no idea about your not-thing with Matthew, and genuinely fell for him. There’s no point in being mad at her.

“Yeah, well,” you push some food around your plate, “He’s a fuckface and she can have him.” The mention of Matthew has ruined your appetite, the meal now looking completely unappealing. You push the plate to the other side of the coffee table with a huff. You’ll try eating again later, you tell yourself, knowing that you haven’t been eating nearly enough lately. You can’t help it, your inner turmoil chasing away your hunger most of the time.

“He is a fuckface,” Terri agrees, adding, “But don’t pretend you don’t still want him.” Ugh. Friends are the worst, actually, and you should just become a hermit in a cave somewhere. There’s no point even trying to deny the claim, both of you knowing that she’s right.

“I’m not allowed to want him anymore,” you say, voice coming out weaker than you want to admit, “I never should have let myself want him in the first place.” In the beginning, despite being attracted to Matthew, it was easy to maintain distance. He was in Calgary most of the year, and reminding yourself that he was your new friend’s brother actually worked as a deterrent back then.

You can’t pinpoint exactly when you started letting yourself get caught up, but you’d ended up completely entangled with him. Now he’s put that distance back between you, ripping away the strings you’d been tied up in, leaving you with all these empty spaces where he used to be. And it’s making you hate yourself, knowing that if you’d just kept things cordial, restricted your attention and connection to Brady like you should have, you wouldn’t be feeling any of this right now.

“You can’t help who you love,” Terri says, so gently that it only hurts more. You’re not fragile, okay? You don’t need the softness, the careful handling. You’re not fragile. You’re not.

“I gotta go eat,” you say, not wanting to lie, but needing a way out of the conversation, “Bye, Ter.” She says your name, but you just repeat the goodbye. She sighs, says goodbye, and you hang up. What you should do is eat something and go to sleep. Instead, you eye the easel in the corner of the living room. You sigh, heaving yourself up off of the couch to go grab a glass of water to rinse your brushes with.

April, 2019

It’s probably going to become your new favorite day of the year: the day Brady comes home from Ottawa. His plane had landed yesterday, and his parents had even brought you to the airport with them to pick him up. As quickly as you’d bonded last summer, you’d only gotten closer through the season. It feels like you can talk to each other about anything, like you were meant to meet, like he’s the platonic version of a soulmate. You had patiently waited your turn to hug him after his parents, squeezing him as tightly as you could manage. He’d only squeezed back harder.

With their seasons ending right around the same time this year, Matthew had landed the same night. Knowing they’d have to go back to the airport, the Tkachuks had decided to just spend the day out instead of going home. They’d invited you to come with them, an invitation you’d eagerly accepted. They’re quickly starting to feel like family to you, and you love spending time with them. For the first time in your life, it feels like you fit somewhere.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to come along to pick up Matthew. You’d had to work last night, so the Tkachuks had dropped you off at home to get changed and get going. You’d still gotten to spend most of the day with them, which would have to be enough.

You’re going over to their place today, and you decided to bake and bring along cookies. All of their local family and friends are going to be there to welcome the boys home, and you haven’t met most of them yet, so you want to make a good first impression. Besides, it’s just polite to bring something along to someone’s house.

Though Brady still tries to hug you when you arrive, despite your hands being full, the plates need to be deposited on the dining room table before he can get a real one. There are a few people chatting in the room, so Brady introduces you to them.

Most of the next hour goes much the same, Brady introducing you to family and friends, having small conversations with all of them. You know that Brady isn’t trying to embarrass you, but he has a habit of hyping you up to people. He’s more outgoing than you are, and he uses that social ease to brag about how smart you are, how talented. It feels a little like he’s trying to justify being your friend to them, but you know better than to think that Brady cares what anyone thinks of him and his choices.

The kitchen exits onto a large cherry wood deck, scattered with chairs, some of them already occupied. The back yard is sprawling, green grass lined with lush bushes. There’s a pool to the right, not opened for the summer yet, a jacuzzi positioned between it and the house. You’re still not really used to all of this, the casual wealth of the family. It’s so far from what you’d grown up with, something that had astonished you when you’d realized just how far above you the Tkachuks are.

There are a few yard games set up in the grass, cornhole and ladders and something you don’t recognize. And there, in the center of the yard, Matthew is teaching a child how to play ladders. The kid is probably a cousin, of which they have many. Matthew is barefoot, wearing a bright red Flames hoodie and black shorts that only come to mid-thigh. You’ve narrowed your staring down to a minimum, so your eyes only linger for a second or two before you turn back to Brady.

He guides you around to meet the few people braving the chilly spring weather, much as he had done inside. Everyone is so nice, saying how pleased they are to meet you, and seeming to mean it.

Your last stop is Matthew, who interrupts his lesson to hug you. It’s only the second time the two of you have done so, the first having been the last time you saw him before he left for the season. Despite that fact, he squeezes you almost as hard as Brady had, as if you’re his best friend too. Not that you’d presume to be Brady’s best friend, but. Still.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” he says when you pull apart, and the expression on his face tells you how genuine it is. Your smile is almost involuntary, turning up the corners of your mouth and baring just a hint of teeth.

“Welcome home, Matthew,” you reply, “We missed you.” You’re not sure what “we” you’re referring to, but it feels less incriminating than saying “I missed you”. You get the feeling that he understands anyway, beaming at you.

The three of you chat for a few minutes, Matthew introducing you to his little cousin. With there being four of you, you decide to play a game of ladders, to test the little one’s skills. He’s pretty good, for a kid, and you and Brady make sure to throw well enough to convince him that you’re trying, but still let him win. Throughout, Matthew gives him tips and instruction, so kind and gentle that it makes your heart ache. They cheer when they win, high fiving and teasing you and Brady.

You go inside to spend some time with Keith and Chantal. Chantal gives you a big hug, as if she hadn’t just seen you yesterday. Keith gives you a hearty clap on the shoulder. Taryn appears at some point, sneaking up behind you and poking your sides to make you jump. You laugh along with her, enfolding her into the conversation easily.

Time flies by, the sun setting around you, the house lights turning on one by one as darkness descends. Eventually, you end up lounging in the den with the other adult kids. From your visits last year, the chair in the corner has become yours. You’re settled in, legs folded up under you as something that no one is watching plays on the TV. Brady and Taryn get into a heated debate about something or another, and Matthew gives you a long-suffering look as his younger siblings bicker. You just smile back at him, finding the family’s passion entirely endearing.

“Seventeen years of this,” Matthew gripes, clearly not as annoyed as he’s trying to seem.

“And sixty more to go,” you reply. Matthew chuckles at that, looking to Brady and Taryn with such fondness that you almost can’t stand it. It’s the kind of relationship you’d wanted with your own brothers, but that’s best not to think about.

“Hopefully,” Matthew says, turning that fond look toward you. Your heart skips a beat, and you’ve gotten good at ignoring that.

May, 2019

You shouldn’t be this nervous, but you are. Terri is on speaker phone, telling you about her new job. You’re half-listening, staring at the clothing laid out on your bed. You’ve been agonizing all morning about what you’re going to wear, how you’re going to do your makeup, if you should wear makeup at all.

“I’m glad that your boss defended you,” you say to Terri, still tuned in enough to follow her story, “She seems cool.”

“She’s so cool,” Terri gushes, “She’s my favorite now.” You’re so happy that Terri has finally found a good job, especially with how hellish her previous one had been. This one pays almost double what she was getting before, too, which definitely doesn’t hurt. She expounds a little more about the things she loves about her boss, and you decide to hang back up the dresses you’ve laid out. It’s still a little too chilly to wear them, especially after sundown.

“You’re still staring at those damn clothes, aren’t you?” Terri asks, switching the topic suddenly. Your face gets warm as you make a plaintive hand gesture, despite her not being able to see you.

“Clothes are stupid and I can’t decide,” you complain, trying to imagine how each of the final two options will come across. If you try too hard, Matthew might think that you think this is a date, but you still want to look good. You know it’s not a date, but you’re still kind of acting like it is, and it’s embarrassing.

“Definitely wear jeans,” Terri advises, “That’ll make it more casual.” You agree, putting away the skirt you’d paired with the one shirt, trying to picture how it would look with jeans. You move the pants between each shirt, before giving up and just putting them on. You’ll just try on both outfits and see which one you like better.

Once dressed in the first option, you take a picture to send to Terri. You look at yourself in the mirror, turning this way and that. After a minute or two of consideration, you switch tops. You take another picture and send both to Terri for her opinion.

“Oh, definitely the second one,” she says, “The first one makes you look like you’re going to a job interview.” You look at the picture again, and can’t deny that she’s right. You put that one away, settled in your decision. You’re not sure if Matthew has ever seen you in anything but jeans and a t-shirt, so you hope the red tank top layered with a tucked-in sheer pink printed blouse isn’t too much of a change.

When Matthew had invited you to take a walk around the park yesterday, just the two of you. You’ve never spent more than a few minutes alone with him, always having Brady or Taryn or Emma to provide distraction and distance. This time you’ll have nothing to focus on but him.

The time comes soon enough, and you gather your things, not wanting to make Matthew wait for you when he arrives. You’d offered to drive yourself and meet him there, but he’d waved off the idea immediately, saying that he’d pick you up.

A knock comes at your door right on time. You take a deep breath before you open it, settling your frenzied heart. Matthew smiles as soon as he sees you.

“Oh wow,” he says, almost absentmindedly, “You look great.” Your blush is immediate, and you hope he can’t see it. It seems that anything that comes out of his mouth makes you blush, sometimes.

The drive to the park isn’t too long. When you arrive, you gather your bag from the floor of the passenger seat, and by time you move to get a hand on the door handle, Matthew is already opening the door from the outside. It’s a sweet surprise, and you thank him as you climb out of the car.

It’s a nice day, not too cold or windy for once. The two of you walk, talking about this and that, moving from topic to topic as they arise. You point out a few birds as you go, and Matthew listens to the little fun facts you give about them. He seems genuinely interested, but even if he’s not, at least he’s polite enough to pretend.

“I guess we should have left a little earlier,” Matthew remarks as the sun goes down, the light fading around you. The sun sets quickly this time of year, so you’re still a few minutes out from the car by time it’s completely dark. The lights along the pathway bathe Matthew in yellow light, casting warm shadows in the dips and hollows of his face.

“At least I have a big, strong man to protect me,” you joke, elbowing him.

“Oh no, if we get jumped I’m running,” he replies, shooting a shit-eating grin down at you. You gasp and press a hand to your heart, as if you’re truly scandalized.

“You would really abandon me like that?” you ask. His smile softens at the edges.

“Never,” he says, looking so genuine that it makes your heart flutter, pausing before he adds, “Unless we’re getting robbed.” Your combined laughter rings out through the trees.

June, 2023

You’ve managed to avoid any questions about your odd behavior, and it’s getting easier to act normal over time. A couple weeks have passed since your first meeting with Tessa, and you still feel like ripping your skin off when you see her touching Matthew, but you’ve gotten better at hiding it. It’s not your place to be upset, anyway.

The diner is bustling at this time of day, the tail end of lunch rush. You had to wait a little bit to get seated, but now you’re sitting at the end of a booth in a chair they’d pulled up to the edge to make up for all five of you not fitting into the booth. It makes you feel a little left out, the only one not paired off, a fifth wheel to the two couples on either side of the table. You block that out, a skill you’ve had for years, but have had to strengthen rapidly over the past few weeks.

Brady has an arm around Emma’s shoulders, and you can tell by the angle of Matthew’s arm that he has a hand on Tessa’s thigh. You remember when that was you, Matthew touching you so casually, so naturally. Sitting across from Matthew as he nudges your foot under the table, sitting next to him with your shoulders pressed together, fingers tangled together on the seat, where no one could see.

Emma is telling a story about a night out with some of her girlfriends, and you’re laughing along at the antics with everyone else. When she asks you about work, you try to clear the perpetual lump in your throat before answering, succeeding in sounding happy, though the tightness remains.

When your food arrives, you spend most of the time pushing it around your plate to make it look like you’re eating. You never have an appetite around Matthew anymore, weirdly embarrassed about being seen eating in a way you haven’t been since you were a teenager. You’ll take it home and eat it later, if you can stop thinking about Matthew for two fucking seconds.

You’re not sure how long that’s going to be impossible, but you hope it’s not much longer.

January, 2020

You’ve been to a few games when the boys have played the Blues, but you’ve never made the trip up to Canada to see them play each other before. Ottawa is nice, Brady and Emma having shown you around a little when you’d arrived. Your nerves had been shot from the anxiety of traveling abroad for the first time, even though it was just to Canada. The couple seemed to understand, only taking you around for a few hours before bringing you home.

Brady’s apartment is nice, really nice. He’s offered you the guest room for a few days, and you appreciate not having to pay for a hotel. He’ll be home for six days before he has to go to St. Louis for the All Star game, so you’d arranged to stay in Ottawa and fly back home with them.

Luckily, the cafe is pretty cool about rearranging your schedule, so you’ll just have to work some extra days when you go back to make up for what you’re missing. You’d asked for the days of the skills competition and game off as well, Brady having managed to get you a ticket. Your manager has always thought it was cool that you were friends with the Tkachuks, so she had agreed to give you the time off if you brought her a souvenir. Matthew and Brady had offered to sign a jersey for her without you even having to ask, and you’ll owe them for a while, though they insist you don’t.

Matthew gets in that first night, the three of you meeting him at his hotel. You’re not sure how he managed it, but he’ll be staying a few days instead of returning to Calgary with the team after the game. Maybe he got a special exception because this game is the last before All Star week, and he has to go to St. Louis anyway. No matter the reason, you’re glad he gets to stay.

The game the next night is exciting, and definitely worth the trip. With the Senators’ performance in recent years, it’s mostly the diehard fans left, so the atmosphere is electric. You get swept up in the passion and joy, especially when the game ends with a 5-2 win for Ottawa.

The boys have to debrief and get changed, which you know will take a while. Emma and you wait with the WAGs, Emma excited to introduce you to them. Some of them think you’re a new WAG at first, which is honestly kind of flattering. All of the ladies are surprisingly kind and welcoming, and you enjoy interacting with them as you all wait.

Matthew emerges first, guided down the hallway by one of the arena staff. His steps pick up pace when he sees you and Emma, and he shoots a quick thanks to the staff member before jogging over to the two of you. He immediately enfolds you in his arms, squeezing tight and holding longer than usual. You know it’s difficult for him to lose at all, let alone to his brother, so you let him hold you as long as he wants.

Once he lets you go, he meets your eyes. His smile is soft, tinged with a slight sadness that you want to wipe away.

“Hey there, sweet girl,” he greets, and your breath catches at the term of endearment. He’d started using it a few months ago, and it still makes your chest tight. You know that it doesn’t mean anything, but you still imagine sometimes that it does.

He turns his attention to Emma, giving her a hug as well, just one quick squeeze before releasing. The three of you start talking, waiting patiently for Brady. It doesn’t shock you that he takes so long to come out, knowing his unofficial position of leadership in the team. The guys come out one by one, hugging and kissing their wives and girlfriends, the number of ladies dwindling as they leave with their men.

When Brady finally emerges, he heads straight over to give Emma a hug and kiss. He hugs you next, before punching Matthew’s shoulder. They have a little back-and-forth as you all exit the arena, taking harmless jabs at each other all the way to the car.

The main issue with the living arrangements for the trip had been that Brady and Emma were going to have two guests and only one spare room. Matthew had offered to sleep on the couch, but he’s too tall for that, and you don’t want him to end up sore or hurting his neck during the season. You’d insisted that you’d sleep on the couch, but both Matthew and Brady had immediately vetoed that idea. Then you’d found out that the guest room has two twin beds instead of one bigger one, and the answer was simple.

Matthew sets his suitcase and backpack next to the door when you get home. You’ve already claimed the bed on the far side, so he gets set up on the one closer to the door. Emma and Brady are in the kitchen, making a post-game snack for everyone, so it’s just you and Matthew.

“You excited to be roomies for a week?” he asks, unzipping his suitcase. Yours is already open under the window, so you grab some pajamas out of it.

“Depends how loud you snore,” you tease. He shoots you a toothy smile.

“Oh, it’s gonna be loud,” he says. You chuckle a bit, knowing he’s joking. Emma calls for you, then, and you leave your clothes on the bed to go to her. The four of you converse as you eat, seated in a row at the kitchen island. You’ve got Matthew to one side and Brady to the other, and they take turns kicking your ankles. You kick back, grinning at Emma when she kicks Brady’s other side.

Brady and Matthew had already showered at the rink, so they sit in the living room while you and Emma get ready for bed. She uses the master suite, and you use the bathroom in the hall. It’s nice, if small, with a simple stall shower instead of a tub. You go through your routine on autopilot, only realizing when you’re done that you’d left your clothes in the bedroom. You wrap yourself in a towel, doing your best to sneak past the door to the living room.

When you look to make sure your stealth is working, you meet Matthew’s eyes. It stops you in your tracks. You can’t discern the look on his face, and you’re not sure that you care to. He shoots you an easy smile, and you wave at him like an idiot, acting on instinct. It only makes him smile wider, and you scurry off to the room.

After you’re dressed, there’s a knock on the door. Brady asks if you’re decent, and you confirm that you are, so he peeks his head in. Once he sees that you truly are dressed, he opens the door the rest of the way. He and Emma bid you good night, telling you to just ask if you need anything. You thank them and say good night in return, Matthew entering the room as soon as the other two retreat to their own room. He’s barely two steps into the room before he’s pulling off his shirt.

“Woah there, cowboy,” you say, holding up a hand in front of you. He just shrugs at you.

“Gotta get ready for bed,” he says, bending over and lifting his foot to remove his socks. You’d figured that he would wear a t-shirt and shorts to bed like you, but you should’ve guessed he’d be the type to sleep shirtless, no matter who’s around. He’s naked in front of thirty people every day, who cares about being shirtless?

You do your best to brush it off, turning down the covers of your bed so that you can crawl in. Normally, you would read for a bit before bed, but you’re tired enough tonight that you don’t think you need to. You pull the blankets up to your chin, turning on your side. Unfortunately, you sleep on your right, so you end up facing Matthew’s bed. Is that weird? Should you try sleeping the opposite direction?

Matthew doesn’t say anything, flicking the lights off and crawling into bed. He sleeps on his left, apparently, so he’s facing you too. That’s a little awkward, right? As your eyes adjust to the dark, you’re able to see the glint of his teeth as he smiles over at you.

“Sleep well, sweet girl,” he says quietly. You return the sentiment, grateful that the darkness means he probably can’t fully see the embarrassment on your face. You’re backlit by the window, so you convince yourself that he can’t.

The next morning, you wake to Matthew already out of bed, stretching. Your eyes roam his back, taking in the dips and ridges of his muscles. Only at the last second do you realize that his head is turned to the side, and he’s staring at you through the corner of his eye. You quickly avert your gaze, turning to sit bolt upright on the other side of the bed, facing the window.

The four of you spend the day exploring the city, Brady and Emma seeming to have planned what they want to show you. It’s nice, peaceful and fun. You make them take pictures with you in front of landmarks or cool art pieces, all of you squished together to fit in the selfie.

It isn’t until the fourth night that anything out of the ordinary happens. You’re lying in bed, having turned on your back to stare at the ceiling, unable to sleep. You probably shouldn’t have had that affogato after dinner, though usually they don’t bother you this much. No matter how long you toss and turn, how many sleeping positions you try, you can’t even make yourself tired, let alone actually fall asleep.

“What are you, a rotisserie chicken?” Matthew asks rhetorically, breaking the silence. His voice is hushed, but it still startles you. You turn your head to stare at him, finding him staring right back.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, sheepish, “I can’t sleep.” Matthew’s lips quirk up at one end.

“Me either,” he says, sitting up. You mimic his posture, then scoot back to lean against the headboard. He slings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands, and you think for a second that he’s going to turn on the light. Instead, he takes the two steps to your bed, motioning to the mattress. You nod, prompting him to start shoving your shoulder, bullying you into making space for him. You giggle, trying to keep quiet to respect the late hour.

“So,” he leads, taking a long moment to just stare at you before continuing, “Tell me something I don’t know about you.” You’re taken off guard by the request, not sure how to respond.

“I was an Aaron Carter girl growing up,” you pull out of thin air. Matthew’s face breaks into a wide smile, sunshine in the middle of the night.

“Really?” he asks. You nod, mumbling “yeah” in confirmation. That’s all it takes to get you both talking. You trade off back and forth, telling each other small things about yourself that may not come up otherwise, launching into short discussions about some of the statements.

“My favorite color is red,” he says at one point, when you’re starting to think you may fall asleep.

“I thought it was blue?” you reply, remembering Chantal mention that at some point. Matthew starts fiddling with his hands.

“I tell people it’s blue, but it’s really red,” he says. You tilt your head an inch or two, furrowing your brow at him.

“Why?” you ask. He ducks his head.

“Red is an angry color,” he explains, voice quieter than before, “With my reputation, I don’t want people to associate me with an aggressive color. I don’t want to play into the stereotype.” You hum, looking forward. It feels like this isn’t the best time to look at him, like he’ll clam up if you witness his vulnerability.

“It’s also the color of vitality, excitement, love,” you counter, leaving just a breath of a pause, “It’s a good color for you.” The entire room is still for a dragging moment, before Matthew gently knocks your shoulders together.

“What about you?” he asks when you look back to him. There’s a fraction of a change in his face, but you don’t comment on it.

When you wake up in the morning, you’re still sitting up, head resting on Matthew’s shoulder, his head laying on top of yours. You suppress the instinct to startle, not wanting to disrupt him, lest he wake up and move. His skin is warm under your cheek, your arms lined up from shoulder to the knuckles of your fingers. You close your eyes again, trying to keep your breathing steady, as if you’re still sleeping. You’ve been trying so hard to keep distance between Matthew and yourself, but you’ll allow yourself to enjoy this, just for a moment longer.

There’s a shift in Matthew’s breathing, his fingers twitching against yours. It settles after a second, into a different pattern, intentionally deep and even. You’re sure that he’s awake, that he’s doing the same thing that you are. You’re not sure what to do with that information.

The rest of the trip goes by smoothly, Brady and Emma showing you both the touristy things and the better local spots around the city. If the same thing happens the next night, and the night after that, you and Matthew talking in low voices until you fall asleep against each other, neither of you mention it.

April, 2020

While the initial prediction for lockdown was that it would only last a month, it’s clear that it’s going to last much, much longer.

It’s probably lucky that you’d just started a new job, one that can be done remotely, rather than either working at the coffee shop or being laid off. It’s not exactly what you want to do, but it’s at least in the artistic field, so you try to be grateful anyway. It’s difficult being locked away in your apartment, but you’re grateful that you’re luckier than essential workers and people who are losing their jobs altogether.

The thing that keeps you sane in all of this is your phone. More specifically, it’s your friends. You’ve developed almost a schedule with it, calling Terri in the morning for an hour or so before work. At lunch, you facetime Brady and Emma for another hour, not envying them being stuck so far from home. It must be hard to be in an entirely different country than your family.

The highlight of each day is the evening, when you facetime Matthew. Though he spends most of the day sending you videos and memes and updates about whatever little thing he’s doing at the moment, it’s still nice to talk to him out loud. Seeing his face helps your growing loneliness a little bit.

You’re in your living room, your phone propped up against the arm of the couch as you show off the few things you’ve made since picking up crochet a couple weeks ago. Matthew compliments each of them, commending you for your improvement. He’s the only one you’ve shown, too embarrassed to let anyone else see the wonky scarves with uneven stitches.

“You have time to work on any paintings lately?” he asks, once you’re done your little show and tell. The truth is that you’ve got three new canvases drying in the kitchen. The truth is also that the man asking about them is the inspiration for their creation. There’s nothing incriminating about them; it’s not like they’re portraits of him or something. But you’re still hesitant to show him, because even if he doesn’t know, you do.

You show him anyway. The painting of the park is his favorite, and you wonder if he knows that it’s the one you went to for your first time alone together. It’s mostly dark, greens and blues so deep they look black, yellow triangles of light splitting the canvas into section. If you look closely enough, the brush strokes fill in the details of the trees, the grass, the pavement. Your phone camera isn’t good enough for Matthew to see that, but he compliments it anyway.

“You should paint me something for my apartment,” he says after you show him all three. You’re not opposed to the idea, actually enjoy the thought of something you made being showcased in his home.

“What do you want?” you ask, a hundred ideas already flitting through your mind. The only way you’ve seen his apartment is through the background of pictures he sends you sometimes, or little glimpses you catch as he walks around while you facetime. You’re not entirely sure of the vibe, but you’re sure you can figure something out.

“What makes you think of me?” he asks in return. You stop in your tracks in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. The hand holding your phone lowers a couple inches unintentionally, your gaze drifting above the screen, staring into the middle distance. What makes you think of him? Hockey, obviously. Family. Curling up under a blanket on a cold night. Laying on the couch with your feet up on the armrest, your head propped up on a pillow, a sad replacement for his lap. Spruce trees, gold, pitbulls, mushroom pizza, black eyes– both the drink and the wound.

Everything. Everything makes you think of him.

You can’t say that, obviously. You search your brain for something personal but innocuous, something sentimental but still acceptable. You think of all the time that you two have spent together over the past few years, memories springing up, some that you’d even forgotten about. Some that you’ll never be able to forget about.

“Can I surprise you?” you ask. You’re given that familiar smile in response, any iteration of which makes your heart stutter in your chest.

“Yeah,” he says, propping his face up with one hand on his jaw, “I trust you.”

July, 2023

Some people may say that Terri’s apartment is cluttered, but you just find it cozy. She has decorations and knick-knacks on every surface, but the comfiest couch you’ve ever sat on. That’s where you are now, stretched out with your back against the side, Terri mimicking your posture at the other end, your legs tangled together in the middle.

“We should see the Barbie movie when it comes out,” she says, unprompted. You look up from the hook and yarn in your hands, tipping your head to the side for a second and shrugging.

“It looks good,” you say, an indirect agreement. You haven’t been to the movies since before lockdown, so it might be nice to go back.

“D’you think Gabe would want to come?” she asks cautiously, “He could bring the kids.” The mention of your brother still makes ice crawl in your chest, but it’s not as bad as it once was. He’d reached out last year, trying to reconnect with you, and apparently your other brother too. You’ve only seen him a few times since, but it’s more than you’d seen him in the four years prior, combined.

“It’s worth a shot, right?” Terri asks, eyes flicking toward your phone sitting on the coffee table. You look toward it as well, debating for a second. It would be nice to see your nieces and nephews, but it also hurts that they barely know who you are.

“Yeah,” you agree after a second, “Worth a shot.” You grab your phone, feeling as if it’s going to explode in your hands if you move too quickly. There are a few notifications when you wake the screen, which you ignore to unlock it. You open your texts, backing out of your thread with Terri from earlier. You have a picture message from Brady, just a selfie of him and Emma smiling, which you send a heart in response to. Backing out of that thread, you see another new message, underneath the contact name you haven’t had the heart to change. The red and purple hearts next to his name– each of your favorite colors– having been there so long that getting rid of them feels wrong, no matter how it makes your chest hurt to see them.

Can we talk?

You tap the back button as quickly as you can. You can’t respond. You should, to be polite, but you can’t. If you do, you’ll say something you regret. It’ll probably be agreement or the words “eat shit”, and either option will get you into trouble. You can’t respond. You want so badly to talk to him. You want so desperately to go back in time and never meet him.

Your fingers tremble as you draft a text to your brother, typing and deleting and re-typing a few times before you settle on the wording. You have more important things to worry about than Matthew.

August, 2020

The bubble was an interesting idea. It may not be the best idea in the world, despite the safety precautions, but you know Matthew is just happy to be back on the ice. He’s already sent you a dozen pictures of the hotel, of him with his teammates and friends, masked up together in the lobby. You tell him to tell the boys that you say hello, and he texts you each of their responses.

The first round goes well, the Flames only losing one game to the Jets. You know Matthew had been worried about going through all the rules and protocols just to be eliminated immediately, so you’re glad that that isn’t the case.

The series against the Stars starts out with an exciting back-and-forth, the teams trading off wins. Then the Stars win game 5, breaking the pattern. You’re not expecting the last game to actually be the last, convinced that the Flames would at least make it to a game seven. But the Stars pull a decisive 7-3 win, the Flames falling apart in the second period and unable to get themselves back together.

Matthew has called you as soon as he got back to his hotel room after every game, so you’re expecting your phone to ring some time in the next hour or two. You putter around the apartment a little, putting away some dishes and wiping down the kitchen counters. You’d been painting during the game, a commission from a friend of a friend of a friend. You return to that, losing yourself in the meticulous movements of your brush.

It feels like it’s been too long. You try to focus on the canvas in front of you, but there’s a nagging sense in the back of your mind that something is wrong. It sits heavy at the base of your skull as you try to ignore it.

Eventually, it becomes too much. You check your phone to make sure that you haven’t missed his call, but there are no notifications. It’s been a little over two hours. You unlock your phone and pull up his contact in a second, pressing the video icon. Typically, he’ll pick up after one or two rings, but you hear the third ring, the fourth. The call disconnects, shock shooting up your spine. It only lasts a second, your phone ringing with a voice call almost immediately.

“Hey sweet girl,” Matthew greets you in his typical fashion as soon as you accept the call. There’s something off about his voice, and it takes you a second to realize what it is.

“Hey there, darling,” you respond, voice as gentle as you can manage. It’s not the first time you’ve heard Matthew cry, but it breaks your heart every time. As much as he tries to seem tough and aloof, you know how deeply losses like this affect him. Now it makes sense that he didn’t want video involved.

“How are you?” he asks, clearly moving his face away from the receiver as he sniffles, but you can still hear it. You move to the couch, sinking into the cushions, as if you’re as crushed as he is.

“I’m okay,” you reply, “You holding up okay?” You know he’ll say that he’s fine, but you also know that he’s not. He may not be for a while. There’s a pause, a long stretch of silence, only interrupted by his deep, labored breaths.

“I wish you were here,” he says. He sounds absolutely miserable, his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. The urge to hold him is overwhelming, your arms buzzing with the desire to wrap around him. You want to pull him down into your lap, let him tuck his head into the crook of your neck, let him cry on you as you scratch his scalp and kiss his head. Lockdown isn’t the only reason that can’t happen.

“I’m going to hug you so hard,” you insist, “As soon as I can see you again.”

July, 2023

While you’re still a third wheel with Brady and Emma, it’s better than being a fifth wheel with the entire group. You’d asked Taryn if she wanted to tag along, but she has training to do. Brady had already done his that morning, so he’s free for the rest of the day, and had invited you to spend some time together.

You’re certain that he doesn’t know how you feel about this place, how much it hurts to be here. As far as he’s aware, this is your favorite park, the one you visit with Matthew at least a few times a month every summer. He probably thinks it’s a great choice, something to cheer you up from the slump you know he’s noticed.

Despite the memories tugging at you from every direction, you’re mostly in a good mood. You’d gotten excellent news the day before yesterday, an opportunity you’ve dreamed of for a long time. You wanted to text Brady right after the meeting to tell him, but you’d decided it was better to share it with him and Emma in person. You’re debating something that absolutely doesn’t matter, all of you talking over each other. You’re waiting for the right moment to change the conversation. It doesn’t come until almost an hour into your walk, but you jump on it as soon as it does.

“I have some cool news,” you say, breaking the silent pause that had fallen over the group.

“Well?” Emma replies, “Go on.” The excitement is bubbling up inside of you again at the thought of it, your stomach turning, your chest too full.

“You know that gallery downtown that I love?” you ask, continuing after they agree, “I’m going to do a show there.” They stop in their tracks, Emma immediately enfolding you in her arms. You hug her back, squeezing tight as she bounces on her toes. When she pulls back, she holds your face in her hands, voice high and thrilled as she congratulates you. The smile on your face is unavoidable, happiness from the news mingling with the happiness of your friends being proud of you.

“Cool news, huh?” Brady asks, lightly smacking your shoulder as he says, “What an understatement.” The circle of his arms feels safe, his chest warm against your cheek as he holds you tight. The look on his face when he releases you is the best reaction you’ve gotten so far, his pride meaning more than anyone else’s.

“When is it?” he asks, taking Emma’s hand in his own once again and resuming the walk. You follow along, too excited to be self-conscious of the visible skip in your step.

“August 20th,” you say. There’s an unspoken question there, a silent invitation. You don’t want him to feel pressured to come, knowing that despite how supportive he is of your artistic endeavors, he’s not big on things like art shows. In the end, you don’t have to ask.

“You know we’re coming, right?” he asks, aiming a crooked smile at you, “You can’t stop us.” Though the smile hasn’t left your face since you brought up the topic, it gets brighter in return.

“I’d never dream of trying to,” you reply, and you mean it.

October, 2020

It’s odd to have the boys around at this time of year, the season usually taking them away at the end of August. You’re grateful for it, though. It means that you get to spend time with them, lockdown finally over, freeing you from the confines of your apartment. Your job has stayed remote, so you’re able to be around even more, saving time on what used to be an hour long commute each way.

Right now, it’s you and the boys, Emma, and Terri. You’d introduced her to them less than a month ago, but they already love her, just as you knew they would. She doesn’t always come around with you, considering how you spend nearly every day at the Tkachuks’, but she has some time today.

After twenty minutes of debating what you should watch, you all agree on a true crime documentary. You’ve given up your chair for Terri, squishing yourself onto the couch with Brady and Emma, pressing your cold feet against her leg and laughing when she yelps. She kicks you, only serving to make you laugh harder. Brady playfully threatens to fight you to defend his woman’s honor, and you put your fists up in front of you, jabbing out into the air as if you’re going to take him up on the offer. He chuckles, reaching out to fist bump you instead of punch. You drop your hands, looking past his big ass head.

Matthew is lounging in the second chair, the leg rest of the recliner up despite his legs being crossed under him. It’s the only way the chair will lean back, he’d told you once, and he doesn’t like sitting upright.

The smile on his face isn’t the wide grin you’d expected. It’s small, a gentle turn of the lips. Combined with the look he’s giving you– something unfocused, something unbearably soft– it implies an emotion that you know can’t be the correct interpretation. You swallow hard, turning your eyes back to Brady.

“Press play already, nerd,” you demand, tone playful enough to show that you don’t mean it. He sticks his tongue out at you, but does as he’s told.

Five minutes in, you glance over at Matthew, finding him already looking at you. You look away, slightly embarrassed to be caught. Another five minutes later, you can’t help but peek back at him again, as if your eyes are magnetized to him. It’s almost disappointing that he’s actually looking at the screen. It only takes a second for his eyes to move to the side, peering at you in his peripheral. The corner of his lips quirks up the tiniest bit, almost unnoticeable. But you notice.

You only make it maybe half an hour into the film before Matthew leans forward and snatches the remote from its place next to Brady. The plaintive sound Brady lets out is kind of funny, but you seem to think everything is funny today. Matthew pauses the show, declaring that the group needs snacks.

“Y/N, come give me a hand,” he says, beckoning you to follow him. You grumble a bit, but stand and follow him up the stairs and out of the den. He leads the way through the living room and into the kitchen. They’re fancy, so they have a walk-in pantry, of course. The two of you enter one after another. You start looking at the snack section, deciding what to grab. The good thing about being the one to retrieve the food is that you get to choose whatever you want and there’s nothing the others can say about it.

You’re rifling through the chips and pretzels when you feel a presence close behind you. It’s obviously Matthew, but he’s so close that you can feel the heat of his body radiating into your back. His left hand comes into your field of vision, pressing to the shelves next to your head. You twist your neck to look back at him, confused as to what he’s doing.

You’re not expecting the look he’s giving you. His eyes dark, completely focused in on your face. Your eyes flick from his eyes to his mouth without your permission. He’s not smiling, his lips parted just a fraction of an inch.

He rests his right hand on your shoulder, using it to turn your entire body around to face him. You can feel how dumbfounded your expression is as you stare up at him, your brow furrowed, your mouth slightly agape. He returns the gesture of looking at your mouth, his tongue quickly flicking out to wet his lips. He looks like he’s about to eat you alive. You would let him.

There’s a long, unbearable stretch of silence as the two of you just stare at each other, faces only a scant few inches apart. If this were anyone else, you would know exactly what’s going on, exactly what they want. But this is Matthew, your insanely wonderful, insanely hot, insanely out of your league friend. There’s no chance that he’s about to do what it feels like he is. No matter how many times you steal glances at each other, how closely he holds you, how many times he allows himself to be vulnerable with you, there’s no chance he’d ever want you. And just as you tell yourself that, he speaks.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his breath brushing across your lips from the proximity. Your eyes go wide, your mouth falling open wider in shock. You’ve spent the last two years valiantly suppressing any type of attraction you have to him, trying to respect his station as your best friend’s brother. And now, in just four words, he’s let it all loose. It floods you inside, so overwhelming, so much to take all at once that it triggers a full system reset. You swear your heart stops, your mouth opening and closing as you struggle to tear the words from your lagging brain.

The words won’t come. The look on Matthew’s face is changing, something embarrassed, something guilty. He moves back an inch and you reach out, unwilling to let him go. You cup his face in your hands, pulling him in to press your lips together.

It’s lingering, almost chaste, and entirely sensational. Your lips are tingling, sparks shooting down your spine. Your chest feels cracked open, your innards exposed for his inspection, your true self exposed for his judgment.

When you pull back and open your eyes, his are still closed. He looks like he’s in heaven, like he’s trying to imprint this moment in his mind the same way that you are. After a moment, his eyelids slide up and he looks at you again. His eyes are hazy, unfocused, his blown pupils leaving only a thin ring of blue around the edge of his iris.

“Again,” he says, breathless, “Please.”

Who are you to deny him?

The second kiss is as good as the first, your breath abandoning your body to pant out against his lips. You meet again, his tongue flicking out for half a second to touch your top lip. It makes you breath hitch, makes you kiss him again, makes you gently bite his full bottom lip. The sound he lets out is barely audible, but it only feeds the fire inside of you, an inferno that blazes up from your hips to your throat. You cradle his face in your hands, hold just strong enough to move his head how you want, to slot your mouths together perfectly each time.

“Hurry up, asshole!”

Brady’s shout violently snaps you out of your haze. You jerk backward, trying to step away, but already pressed against the shelves. Matthew doesn’t seem as put off as you, smiling as if nothing happened. You relinquish your hold on his face, dropping your hands to your sides. His hands had wandered as you kissed, one on your waist, the other on the back of your neck. He squeezes once at the base of your skull, dipping in to give you one last quick kiss.

After frantically grabbing random snacks, you return to the den. You can feel how hot your face is, and you can only hope that it’s not too obvious how flustered you are. You and Matthew deposit the snacks on the coffee table, everyone immediately selecting one. You curl back up in your chair, legs pulled up to your chest as you lay sideways, head on the armrest.

Every time your eyes drift to Matthew for the rest of the evening, he’s looking back.

January, 2021

Just as the day the boys come home is the best day of the year, the day they leave for the season is the worst. Sometimes you wish you were Emma, that you could follow them back and forth and never be without them. But St. Louis is your home, is where you have a job and friends and more recently, family.

You’d helped both boys pack for the past few days, but you won’t be able to go along to drop them off at the airport. When Matthew had left for the playoffs, Emma had offered you her spot in the car. You’d told her that she didn’t have to, but she’d assured you she wanted it that way. She has to go along this time, so the car is already overpacked. Besides, you have to work that morning anyway.

You still show up at the Tkachuks’ beforehand, so early that the sun hasn’t made an appearance yet. Matthew had forgotten to pack his favorite sweater, of course. You fish it out from where it had fallen under his bed, straightening up to hold it out to him. He thanks you, deciding to wear it for the flight instead of shoving it into one of his bags. It looks good on him. Cozy.

Brady and Emma are double checking their room as well, one door down from you. Keith, Chantal, and Taryn are down in the living room, waiting as patiently as they’re capable of, which isn’t very much.

Being alone with Matthew used to be exciting, used to make your heart change its rhythm, used to start up a buzz under your skin. Now, it’s just… comfortable. Safe. Right.

When Matthew approaches you, crowding up into your space, you know exactly what he wants. The first time you’d kissed should have been the last. You’re too drawn to him, feel too much toward him, more than you should. More than he will ever return. The two of you haven’t discussed exactly what you’re doing here, but it’s clearly meant to be casual. Matthew isn’t typically the kind to shy away from voicing what he wants, and he hasn’t spoken up to define anything.

Is that what you want? You’re not sure. Making out like teenagers for months has been nice, has satisfied a part of you. But only a part.

You’re avoiding thinking about what you want, too afraid of what you’ll find. Some part of you, buried deep inside, hidden behind a recently built wall, already knows. If you allow yourself to acknowledge it, this will end badly. If you allow yourself to want, you’ll destroy yourself in the process.

The kisses he lays on your lips stay sweet, gentle presses, just a tease of tongue here and there. His arms are wrapped around you, resting on your shoulders, while your hands rest on his hips. You haven’t progressed past kissing, and you’re not sure if he wants anything beyond this. You’ll take what you can get.

Keith calls up the stairs for you to hurry up, lest the boys miss their flights. Matthew leaves one last peck on your lips, just as he always does before you part. You glance around his room a final time, making sure everything is packed. You help him bring his bags downstairs, help him and Emma get their things outside and into the car. You’ll have to go home as soon as they depart, and you’re actually a little grateful that you have work to distract you from the first hours of missing them.

As per usual, Emma is the first to hug you. You squeeze tight so that you can lift her off of her feet for a second, just to make her laugh. Brady grabs you next, as if both of them know that Matthew wants to be last. Brady wiggles you side to side, planting a kiss on the top of your head. You headbutt his shoulder, then kiss the same spot you’d hit. He says how much he’ll miss you, something he always reiterates for a few days before he leaves. You return the sentiment honestly, earnestly. When he pulls back, you punch his chest lightly, and he returns the gesture.

Matthew steps up and opens his arms, and you step into them easily. He doesn’t squeeze too hard, just holds you close, hand cupping the back of your neck, calming your anxiety and dulling the sharp edge of your pain.

“Gonna miss you so much, sweet girl,” he whispers into your hair, just loud enough for you to hear. You try to swallow the lump that has suddenly formed in your throat.

“Miss you already,” you reply, a little uneven, a little raw, “Can’t wait to see you again.” He places a kiss on your head as Brady had, but his lips linger, hesitant to let go. But he does let go.

They all wave as they drive off, Brady, Emma, Matthew, and Taryn all crammed into the back seat. You wave back, watching the car go, staring down the street even after the car turns and disappears.

Time to work, you suppose.

July, 2023

Art has never frustrated you so much in your life.

When you were young, the struggle and annoyance came from trying to get things just right, though they were above your skill level. As a teenager, it was due to the struggle of developing your own unique style. In college, it was not having the energy to paint most days, falling asleep at the easel others.

For the past month, the art has been flowing. You’ve been painting most every day, the ideas coming easily, creating almost a compulsion that you can’t resist. It’s only satisfied when the painting is complete. There are a couple dozen or so canvases scattered around your apartment to dry, the most you’ve ever produced in a single month. But the frustration– the frustration comes from the fact that all of your ideas are about him. All of your paintings are moments with him, things he’d said, how you’d felt, how you’d hoped he felt.

There’s a feeling inside of you, as if you’re right on the edge of catharsis, as if you paint just one more thing, you’ll be able to let it all go. That’s your motivation for everything you’ve been making, just desperately searching for the release that will save you from the pain. At this point, you’re not sure it will ever come.

You’re working on a bigger canvas, the biggest you’ve used in years. You’re glad your current job allowed you to move into a bigger apartment, because you surely wouldn’t have been able to fit something like this in your old shoebox, packed so full of your things that you’d barely had space for an 11x14. You have to stand to reach the upper portion, swiping a brighter red over the dark red base. You don’t want it to be about him. It is anyway.

The show at the gallery is rapidly approaching, only a month away. You’ve been working with the curator to decide which pieces to use, filing through years of work. So far, everything that she’s found compelling has been about him. Things you’ve made recently, things you made years ago when things were still good. One day, you’ll get over this. But not today. Today still just hurts.

June, 2021

With neither of the boys making the playoffs, they’d come home earlier than usual this year. Sadly, Brady is pretty used to it by now, usually coming home around this time anyway. You’re used to getting a few weeks with Brady and Emma before Matthew comes home, but you don’t have that this year.

While Brady sulks for about two days when he gets home, Matthew is far more upset. The Flames had made the playoffs for the last couple years, and he was getting used to being a contender. So not even getting a chance at it this year clearly stung. He moped around for a week or two, face tight and arms crossed over his chest most of the time. The only time he let his arms down, let his guard down, is when the two of you were alone.

You’d comforted him through the couple weeks of upset, even staying the night a few times. It wasn’t intentional, you’d just stayed so late that you fell asleep, and Matthew didn’t have the heart to wake you. You have to get up early to get home for work, so you’d snuck your way out of the house before anyone else had woken. You’re not sure how Keith and Chantal would have felt about you staying the night in Matthew’s bed, but you know what they would have thought was going on, and you didn’t want to put yourself or Matthew in that position.

Once he’d relaxed, taken a deep breath and accepted defeat, he went back to being his regular happy, seemingly aloof self. You’re grateful for it, not a fan of seeing him upset and always wanting to help him through and cheer him up.

June had come kindly, bringing along more sun and nicer weather. You and Matthew had resumed your walks in the park, and the whole group of you spend about as much time outside as you do in the den. Things with Matthew had picked up where they left off in January, him pulling you into a secluded area any time he could get you alone, kissing you senseless. You’d missed the feeling of his lips, of his body pressed to yours.

Tonight is one of the more rare nights where Matthew comes to your apartment, instead of you going to his parents’ house. You’ve offered to make dinner and follow it up with movies. You’re already on the couch, your dirty dishes abandoned on the coffee table. You’re laying on your side, Matthew spooned up against your back, your knees hanging off of the couch with the way they’re bent to accommodate Matthew’s too-long legs. You’re warm and comfortable, enjoying the feeling of safety that he brings, something you’ve very rarely felt in your life before.

The movie is good, but you’ve found that being in Matthew’s arms makes you sleepy, so you’re having a hard time focusing. You manage to mostly follow it, letting out a jaw-cracking yawn when the credits start to roll.

You feel Matthew place a kiss on the back of your neck without comment. Then he’s moving you, rearranging your bodies carefully until you’re on your back, Matthew staring down at you from his position straddling your thigh. The way he’s looking at you is intense, somehow simultaneously fond and hungry. It wakes you up almost instantly, and you reach out to rest your hands on his thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, reverently. It’s not the first time he’s said it, but it feels different now. Maybe it’s the position you’re in, maybe the way he’s looking down at you as if he wants you, as if he–

He takes your hands in his own, bending down as he brings them up to cradle his cheeks. You run your thumbs across his high cheekbones, tilt his head up a little by the jaw as his eyes slide shut. You press your fingers into the soft spot behind his jaw, under his ears, pull him down, down, down.

Kissing him feels as easy as breathing. Guiding his head this way and that to get a better angle, pressing your lips together over and over, longer each time, deeper. Matthew has one hand on the arm of the couch to hold himself up, the other wrapped loosely around your wrist. He’s not trying to move you or take control, just holding on as if he needs something to ground him. You press your thumbs into the hollows of his cheeks, feeling the solid wall of his teeth under the skin. His mouth drops open and he lets out a soft sound. You press your thumbs in harder, between the new gap between his upper and lower teeth, testing how far you can push from the outside.

He squeezes your wrist once and you release the pressure. His mouth stays open, lips wet and shining. He opens his eyes halfway, as if his eyelids are too heavy to get all the way up, eyes hazy and unfocused.

Again, he squeezes your wrist. He’s suddenly standing, using his grip to guide you up as well. He immediately crowds up against you, as if being more than an inch away will kill him. His eyes have managed to refocus, but there’s still a dreamy look in them.

He takes a step backward, using the hand that had instinctively gone to the back of your neck to bring you with him. He kisses you, lingering. He takes another step back, gives you another kiss. He rounds the end of the couch and you realize where he’s leading you, kind of impressed that he can find his way to the bedroom without even looking.

Of course, your heart is a frantic mouse scurrying around your chest, thumping hard like you’re a prey animal facing down a predator. But as much as it freaks out in the cage of your chest, there’s no panic in your head. Being with Matthew calms your mind, keeps your hands from trembling, feels so right that you can’t find a reason for the anxiety that used to plague you around him.

He stops you halfway between the door and the bed, pulling back a couple inches to stare down at you. You’re hesitant to put a name to the look on his face, not sure if reverent is being dramatic.

You flatten your palms against the front of his shoulders, shoving him gently, bullying him toward the bed. He allows it for a moment, but stops after a few steps. He takes your hands in his own, brings them to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. You try to swallow down the desire that grows inside of you, threatening to spill out. He holds your hands close to his face, enough that you can feel his lips move when he speaks.

“You don’t have to be in control, sweet girl,” he says, lays another kiss on the bump of your right middle finger, looks deep into your eyes with such adoration you feel ready to split at the seams.

“Let me take care of you,” he says. The part of you that’s spent your entire life with a fist clenched desperately around any sense of control that it could find, for the first time, relinquishes its hold. And Matthew does, indeed, take care of you.

February, 2022

It’s your first time in Vegas, and the atmosphere is electric. There are hockey fans everywhere, plenty of people wearing jerseys as they explore the strip. Everything is so big, so bright, so fancy. As exciting as it is to be here, it makes you feel a little off, a little like you don’t belong. It reminds you of the first time you’d been to the Tkachuks’ house, amazed at how different everything is from the way you grew up.

Each player was supposed to be allotted two tickets, but they had allowed Brady to take additional tickets for his family, considering Matthew is his brother, in addition to how well-known and beloved Keith is. He’d managed to get Emma included as well, luckily.

You weren’t sure how he did it, but Brady had gotten another player to give one of his tickets so that you could come. Apparently the guy’s family couldn’t make the trip, and he only had one friend that he really wanted to bring. He won’t tell you who it was, but the way that Timo Meier winks at you as he passes the stands gives you an idea. You weren’t aware that the two talked, but there’s always the possibility that he had just gone around and asked everyone. The idea makes something bloom in your chest, as if you could love Brady more than you already do. You’ll have to find a way to thank Timo some time.

The skills competitions are fun, though Brady doesn’t win anything. It’s nice to see the players relaxing and having fun, a well-deserved break from the stress of the season.

You all go out to an early meal before the games the next day. You don’t realize until you arrive that Jack Hughes and his family were joining you, and you trip over your own feet when you see them waiting for you. You’re a huge fan of Jack’s, but more than that, Ellen Weinberg-Hughes is an icon. You stumble with your words when you greet her, shaking her hand and screaming silently in your head. With how the boys are looking at you as you do so, they obviously anticipated your reaction and are incredibly satisfied with themselves.

For the meal, you’re sat between Matthew and Jack. You’re grateful that Matthew is next to you, needing his calming presence as you meet some of your favorite players. The families are friendly with each other, the parents catching up on the news of each others’ lives, the children doing the same in separate conversations.

You spend most of the dinner talking to Jack, Quinn, and Matthew. They tell you all sorts of things, including embarrassing stories about Matthew that you weren’t privy to. You grin at Matthew every time they share one, absolutely intending to tease him about it later. This seems to be what the Hughes boys want, eager to give you more ammunition. Matthew buries his face in his hands at one particularly humiliating story, even as he shakes gently with quiet laughter. When he emerges and sits back up, you take a chance, placing your hand on his thigh. You squeeze once, trying to reassure him. He does his best to not react, but he also rests his hand on top of yours under the table.

“So you’re a painter, right?” Quinn asks at one point, curiosity evident in his perpetually sleepy eyes.

“Yeah,” you confirm, asking “How did you know?” You’d told them about your official job, but you hadn’t mentioned being a traditional artist in addition to a graphic designer. Jack turns a smug smile on you.

“Matthew talks about you a lot,” he says, pleased with himself. You look to Matthew just in time to see his face flush.

“Shut up,” he says to Jack, which only makes him smile wider. Jack’s attitude rubs off on you a little, and you give Matthew a delighted smile.

“How much is a lot?” you ask Jack, feeling Matthew dig his fingertips into your knuckles.

“Like, a lot,” Jack replies, Quinn nodding from his other side. You look back to Matthew, who looks like he wants to crawl under the table and hide.

“I talk about him a lot, too,” you say. That makes Matthew look at you again, bright eyes nearly sparkling in the restaurant’s dim lighting. His expression shifts, a small, grateful smile scrunching his eyes up the slightest bit.

After dinner, you all make your way to the arena. Brady and Jack left a while before the rest of you, needing to arrive in time to get dressed and likely do some more media. Before he’d left, Jack had requested your phone, creating a contact for himself and inputting his number. As he dud, you turned your face away, toward Matthew, opening your mouth wide as if you’re screaming. He looked amused at it, but there’s a sharp edge there. Quinn took the phone next, doing the same thing. You squeezed Matthew’s thigh again, and his expression softened. You’ve been following the Hughes brothers since they were in Juniors, and having them like you enough to want to keep in touch– you can only describe the feeling as elation.

The lines are out the door at the arena, and a few people catch the boys to request photos before you can get to the special entrance for players’ guests. They’re all very kind and courteous about it, taking a few pictures with people, finding a way to move through the crowd even as they do so. You probably should have come a different way, or maybe gotten there earlier, but as long as the boys don’t mind, you don’t either.

The seats are good, the second row of the first balcony. It seems to be the section that they put all of the family and friends, people milling around and chatting with each other. You spot Johnny’s parents a couple rows away, the only people around that you’ve met before. You wave to them and they return the gesture. They make their way down to your seats, greeting each of you in turn. They start chatting with Keith and Chantal, so you continue talking to Taryn and Emma.

The games are great, surprisingly fast. The Atlantic division plays a great game again Central, despite losing by 3. You still can’t help being proud of Brady. You’ve been next to him since his first season, and you’ve loved getting to watch him grow and improve. As long as he’s in the world, you’re going to be proud of him.

The final is awesome too, and you jump up to cheer when Jack scores in the first. When the Metropolitan wins, you high-five Taryn, glad that Jack could win when Brady couldn’t. Not a bad consolation prize.

The group hangs around for a while after, and you get to meet a bunch of new people. Everyone is so nice, making you feel welcome, feel like you belong. When you finally start up the stairs to leave, Johnny’s mom Jane stops you for a second. She pinches your jersey and gives you a sly smile.

“Just a family friend?” she asks, not a question but a suggestion. A few years back, Matthew had given you one of his jerseys to wear to a game, and you’ve worn it tonight, despite him not playing. You realize now how it could be interpreted, ducking your head for a second to smile at the floor, before looking back up to Jane.

“Just a family friend,” you say, firm and definitive. She holds your gaze for a moment, looks behind her at Matthew, who’s waiting patiently a few steps up. He’s looking at you, that soft look he gives you sometimes. After a second, he smiles brightly at Jane. She waves and turns back to you.

“We’ll see,” she says. She pats your shoulder twice before making her own way up the stairs with Guy. Once you process the statement, you shake your head and make your way up to Matthew.

“What was that?” he asks as you enter the corridor. There’s no way you can tell him the truth, and honestly, you’re not sure what the fuck that was either. You just shrug at him, continuing your way out of the arena.

The comment sticks with you, no matter how you try to brush it off. Johnny is Matthew’s best friend, and you’ve met Jane a few times before. If it had been a stranger, you would’ve dismissed it outright. But to hear it from someone who actually knows the two of you? That’s harder to let go.

July, 2023

Laurel, the curator for the gallery hosting your show, is a lovely woman. She’s also very, very good at her job. You’ve been to countless shows at this gallery, and they’re always perfectly compiled, excellently arranged. You’ve brought her your most recent paintings today, which makes you glad that you have a car, because hauling them through the city would be a nightmare.

The only problem you have with Laurel is that she seems to see straight through you. You’re not used to someone looking past the professional figure you present, let alone someone seeing every part of you that you put into your art.

She’s staring at your offerings, examining every last detail. She’s already chosen about half of the pieces that will be displayed, creating a theme with your relatively impressionist style. She moves one canvas to the side, away from the others. She takes an extra few minutes to consider one of them, the largest one. It just finished drying yesterday. Having to see it every day as you passed it in the living room has been torture.

“Everything except that one,” she says, gesturing to the one she’d set aside. If she wants all of these, that’s likely going to be everything for the show. With everything else she’s chosen, this is all they have the wall space for, considering the way that you’ve seen Laurel arrange the art in previous shows you’d attended.

“That one is the centerpiece,” she adds, hand against her cheek as she continues staring at the large canvas. You swallow hard. Of course. Of course every painting she likes is about him. Of course the centerpiece will be him. No matter what you do, you’ll never escape him.

She asks a bit about your inspiration and motivation for the piece, and you give her vague answers that sound more philosophical than the real thing. The two of you discuss some of the minutiae of the show, trying to get everything finalized ahead of time. There’s less than a month left, and your excitement is starting to pair itself with dread.

When you get home, you go straight to your bedroom and throw yourself face first onto your mattress. You bury your face in a pillow, finally letting out the scream that’s been stuck in your throat since you learned of Tessa’s existence. It helps.

You make and have dinner, barely aware of what you’re eating. At least you can eat without getting nauseous now. You don’t feel like watching TV, probably wouldn’t be able to pay attention to a real show right now. Instead, you sit on your bed, leaning back against the headboard. You scroll social media mindlessly for a while, the ghost of Matthew next to you, his invisible arm pressed against yours.

February, 2022

Despite your better judgment, the first time you and Matthew had slept together wasn’t the last, either. It had continued through last summer, then again when he’d come to play the Blues. Now you’re in Calgary, in Matthew’s apartment for the first time, in his bed again.

A lot of people idolize the first time they sleep with someone, comparing every subsequent time to the first and often coming out disappointed. You had no reason to do so, because the sex only got better over time. As you and Matthew learned each other’s bodies, figured out what got the best reactions, the sex kept improving. Even if you wanted to fall back on your morals and resist him out of respect for Brady, you know you couldn’t stay away for long. It’s irresistible.

And it’s not just the sex. It’s the way he holds you after, lays on his back so that you can rest your head on his chest. It’s the way his breath ruffles your hair as you fall asleep together. It’s the things he says to you.

It’s the nights like this.

You’re in Matthew’s bedroom, the dark dead of night offering only the moon to light the room. Your head is on Matthew’s chest, his arm around you to keep you close, as if you would ever willingly leave. Your breathing had returned to normal a while ago, your body cooling off and beginning to recover from the rush of feeling. Matthew kisses the top of your head every so often, and you return the sentiment by tilting your head to lay kisses against his sternum.

“I wish I could keep you here forever,” he says, so hushed that you almost miss it. He’s always so quiet when he talks like this, as if he’s afraid to say it. He says these kinds of things anyway, but never above a whisper, not willing to share the vulnerability with anyone but you. Again, you press your lips into his skin.

“I wish I could stay here forever,” you reply. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? To stay here, with him. No need to be quiet so as not to wake his family, no having to sneak out in the morning, no work to keep you away. Just laying here, together.

“I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you,” he says. There’s desire in his voice, of course, but also earnesty, like he really means it. Part of you would like to believe that he does, but another part knows how important it is to not get caught up in the fantasy. It’s easier said than done.

“Not any of the other girls you’ve had?” you ask. You’d meant for it to come out teasing, but your honest curiosity wins out. Then there’s a hand on your chin, fingers gently guiding your head up until you’re looking Matthew in the eye. It’s not exactly comfortable to crane your neck like this, so you prop yourself up on one forearm, resting the other hand where your head had been as you stare down at him.

“Never,” he replies, insistent. He looks so serious, sounds so sincere. You don’t say anything, can’t think of anything. There’s something in the wide roundness of his eyes that speaks to you, pulls you in, encourages you to search deeper. It takes a second to figure out what it is that’s hiding in there, but… it’s fear.

“I never want this with anyone else,” he says, tangling his fingers with yours over his racing heart. There’s a question you want to ask, something you’ve been wanting to ask for a while, but the fear in him has mirrored itself within you. You should just shut up, keep it to yourself. The words come out before you can convince yourself to stay quiet.

“What is this?” you ask. You’re not sure what answer you’re expecting, but you know which one you’re hoping for. He takes a deep breath, exhales slowly. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and for the first time, you don’t divert your gaze to admire the sheen of them, unable to look away from his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he says, pauses, presses your entwined hands harder to his chest, “But I never want to give it up.”

May, 2022

Again, Matthew is the second to come home. Brady returned almost a month before in April, the Senators not in the playoffs, as usual. You feel bad sometimes, because Brady is genuinely a great player, but his team has just struggled to gel together. Even through all of their trials, Brady insists on keeping hope. He loves his teammates, and that’s what really matters to him.

Matthew, on the other hand, isn’t so great at dealing with failure. The Flames make it to the second round, which is an achievement all on its own. But after winning Game 1, they’d lost four in a row and been knocked out. It feels to Matthew almost like they got swept, he explains over the phone after the final loss.

When he gets home, he once again spends a week sulking. You mimic what you’d done last year, though staying the night is intentional this time. So long as you sneak out before anyone wakes up, you’ll be fine.

On the eighth day, you tell Matthew for the hundredth time how proud of him you are. He shoots you a bittersweet smile and says that he’s proud of himself too, and you know he’s bouncing back. It doesn’t help that he’s been debating for months whether to re-sign with the Flames, an agonizing choice for him. He loves his boys, but he’s not sure he belongs there anymore. You’ve assured him that you’ll support him no matter what decision he makes. Johnny hits free agency next month, and if he moves, you’re not sure that Matthew will have the motivation to stay.

The next couple of weeks go by the same way that they always do, with you spending as much time with the Tkachuks as possible. At least, you think you’re doing a good job of acting like everything is the same as years past. No one knows about you and Matthew, and it seems like he wants to keep it that way. You like having this little secret life with him, getting to have him all to yourself. You’re okay with the way it is, you convince yourself.

June came quickly, having begun only four days after he’d returned. The weather improves, you and Matthew once again resume your walks in the park. You play yard games and watch trash TV with Brady and Emma. You help Chantal cook dinners, help Keith clean up afterward. Everything is back to the summer standard.

The day had been nice, sunny and warm. The light had turned the leaves of the trees golden during your walk this afternoon. The sun is long gone now. Nighttime has become your favorite part of the day, the only time you get to indulge in whatever it is that you and Matthew have. The only time you get to touch his skin, to hear the low sounds he can’t help but make, to feel his warmth against you, inside you.

It’s been some time since you’d finished, but you can’t quite fall asleep. Matthew is spooned up against your back, face buried in the nape of your neck. You’re not sure if he’s asleep or not, too distracted to bother trying to figure it out. You’ve been thinking about it since your visit to Calgary. Any time Matthew called, or texted, or even crossed your mind, you thought of it. It made your heart leap into your throat, your breath catching as you choked on it.

He doesn’t know what you’re doing together, what you are. He didn’t give the response you’d been hoping for, but he didn’t outright deny it either. Sometimes you think it would have been better if he had, if he’d said that it was just sex. Then you could start working on moving on. You wouldn’t have to lie awake at night, wondering.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his groggy voice making you startle and snapping you out of your head. You take a deep breath, debating yourself for a couple seconds before you decide.

“Nothing,” you reply, patting his forearm where it’s snaked around your waist, “Go back to sleep.” He takes a quick, deep breath, the air rushing out over your skin. You’re helpless to resist when he starts moving you. If you did put up a fight, push back against his hands, you know he would stop. But you’re tired.

“What’s wrong?” he asks again once you’re flipped to face him. He looks tired too, the exhaustion of the season still lingering. The moonlight paints his face in silver. It makes his skin shine, almost glowing in the darkness.

“I’m afraid,” you say. You wish he hadn’t turned you around. It would be easier to speak it into the wall than it is to say to his face. You say it anyway, watching his brow furrow, admiring the way the silver light adds contrast to the wrinkles the expression creates.

“Of what?” he asks. You could make something up. Telling him that you’re afraid of monsters under the bed would be less embarrassing. You’ve never been very good at lying to him.

“The day you move on,” you whisper, invisible pressure on your throat making the words come out tight and unsteady. The surprise on his face surprises you in return. He’d refused to put words or labels to whatever this is, of course you would think that he’s going to leave eventually. You’d have to be an idiot to think that he means it when he says forever.

“I won’t,” he says, resolute. You can only manage a half-smile for him.

“You’re not the first man to say that,” you reply. He reaches up and cradles your cheek in his wide palm, warmth seeping into your skin.

“But I’m the first one to mean it,” he says. You close your eyes. They begin to prickle at the corners, but you refuse to cry about any of this. He’s so adamant, so steadfast in his insistence. You try to remind yourself of what this isn’t, what it will never be, but you’ve never trusted someone the way you trust him, and you can’t help believing him anyway.

August, 2023

You hadn’t anticipated this happening, let alone how hard it would be, but finally, finally it’s a little bit easier.

You’re not over Matthew, not by a long shot. It’s going to take months, years. It may never happen, who knows? As long as you can cope with it, can keep your friends around, that’s all that matters.

The first half of the day was spent with both boys and their girls. You didn’t have to curl up so tightly on your chair, didn’t have to force words out so they didn’t think anything was wrong. Conversation was relatively easy, topics changing and flowing naturally. You’d smiled, laughed, and a couple of times you actually meant it.

Matthew had apparently planned a date for Tessa and himself, so they excuse themselves in the late afternoon. Brady, Emma, and you stick around the den for a bit, continuing to talk. Eventually, Emma stands, stretching dramatically.

“Let’s go for a walk,” she suggests. You’ve spent too much time lately sitting at an easel or curled up in bed, and a walk sounds like a great idea.

You expect it this time when Brady takes the three of you to the same park. It’s easier when you’re not blindsided by it, and you have the lovely memory of the last time you were here with the two to focus on, instead of Matthew. You walk for a while, music playing softly from Emma’s phone, tucked in her back pocket. Once you’re deep into the wooded area of the park, she stops dead in her tracks. You follow suit, spinning around to shoot her an inquisitive look. She takes the two steps forward to close the space between you two, grabbing you by the shoulders and walking you backward. You stumble, trying to look behind yourself to keep from falling. She pushes until the backs of your knees hit a bench on the side of the pathway and you fall onto it. You gape up at her, befuddled by the behavior and the way her arms are crossed over her chest.

“What’s going on,” she demands, not a question. You furrow your brow, at a loss for words. You know what she’s talking about, and you know that she knows that you know. But why would she wait until the day that it starts to fade, the day that you can finally think of something else, to ask you about it?

“C’mon, Y/N,” Brady says, plopping down on the bench next to you, “We know something’s wrong.” You had accepted the possibility of this back in June, but you weren’t expecting it to take almost three months for it to happen.

Your first instinct is that you absolutely can’t tell them. You’ve been keeping this secret for years, and if Matthew has his way, you’ll keep it forever. If Matthew gets his way, you repeat in your head. That’s it, isn’t it? All this time, you’ve been so focused on what Matthew wants that you ignored your own wanting. What do you want?

You want to tell someone, to finally have this horrid pain out in the open instead of keeping it caged up around your heart. You want your best friend and his wife to hug you. You want them to understand.

“Matthew,” the name tumbles out, and you don’t want to stop it. Brady and Emma are still looking at you, waiting for anything you want to tell them. God, Brady is your goddamn best friend and you’d convinced yourself that you couldn’t tell him something? That there was anything on this earth that he would shun you for?

It all comes spilling out in a rush. Everything from the first time you’d met him. Hell, some information that isn’t strictly necessary, but they don’t interrupt you or complain, so you venture on. It takes long enough to recount that Emma sits on the metal armrest of the bench. Brady’s holding one of your hands in his lap, Emma taking the other to do the same.

You’d promised yourself more than once that you wouldn’t cry about this, but you don’t really care enough to stop yourself now. The tears come two-thirds of the way through, falling silently as you recount some of the things Matthew had told you, the things he’d promised you. You’re not outright sobbing, so you manage to power through the rest of the story. Your eyes are squeezed tightly shut by the end, like closing them will block out the memories.

It takes a couple of minutes for the tears to stop. The three of you let the silence hang as you wait for it, nothing but the leaves rustling in the trees, something scurrying in the bushes. When you can safely open your eyes to face the world again, you look over to Brady. He looks devastated.

You watch his evolving emotions morph the expression on his face, from heartbreak to anger and back again. The anger makes your heart skip a beat, suddenly afraid that maybe the whole “I slept with your brother” thing will be a problem after all.

“Do you want me to kick his ass?” he asks, startling a laugh out of you. You know he’s dead serious, too. Part of you thinks it might be cathartic to see Matthew get beat up by his little brother, but your soft heart doesn’t want anything bad to happen to him. After everything he’s done to you, you still don’t want him to have to feel even a fraction of the pain you do.

February, 2023

This year, the boys don’t have to bribe anyone else to get you to the All Star Game. Each of them is allotted two tickets as per usual, but Taryn is too busy with school to come. She’d aimed a satisfied smirk at Matthew through the camera of her phone, saying guess you’ll have to take that one along as her eyes darted slightly to the left, clearly looking at where you were on the screen.

Since your work is remote, you’ve brought along your laptop. You spend the morning of the skills competition working, still averse to using your PTO if it’s not completely necessary. The boys have to do media, so there’s no one around to bother or distract you. You kind of wish there were.

The special skills competitions are as fun this year as they were last. You especially love Sidney Crosby in the dunk tank, seemingly having the time of his life. You may not know him personally, only having met him once in passing, but after everything he’s been through, you think he deserves some carefree fun.

The sun has set by time you emerge from the arena after the regular skills competitions. The days are shorter at this time of year, even in Florida. It is warmer than St. Louis, though, which you’re grateful for.

Jack is in the competition again this year, so you meet up with the Weinberg-Hugheses again that night. You’ve gotten much closer with Jack and Quinn over the past year, building relationships on texts and calls and dinners when they play the Blues. Luke has tagged along this time, and you get on with him just as well as his brothers.

Matthew shoots Jack a look when he slings an arm around you on the way back to your hotels after dinner, but Jack just grins at him. You’re still not sure what that’s all about, but you’re just going to stay out of it.

The games the next day are fantastic. You’ve never gotten to watch both of your boys win at once, and you love it. When the Atlantic wins the whole thing, you cheer so loudly your voice cracks. Emma laughs at you, but you just laugh along with her.

You stick around for a bit after the game again, Keith and Chantal mingling while Emma shows you the decorations she’s planning for the wedding on her phone. After a while, someone taps you on the shoulder from behind. You turn your head, immediately recognizing Jane. Johnny had made it again this year with his new team, so it would make sense that she’s here too. You stand, reaching up to hug her in her elevated position.

“Matthew got you a new jersey?” she asks, referencing the All-Star jersey you’ve got on. You wish you could say that you bought it for yourself, but it had indeed been a gift from Matthew. It shouldn’t be embarrassing, so you act like it’s not, even though it is.

“Yeah, he’s a great friend,” you reply, shrugging, “He likes to take care of me.” The thing about Jane is that she’s not really a jerk. Sometimes the you-and-Matthew comments bother you, but she’s generally a very sweet woman.

“It’s good to have someone like that,” she says, smiling gently at you, “Matthew is a good boy.” Jane had been at enough Flames games for you to know her, and definitely enough for Matthew to become a pseudo-son to her. They don’t interact much anymore, save for when she pops up in the back of Johnny’s facetimes, but you know she still has a soft spot for him. You don’t blame her.

“He really is,” you agree, nodding. The two of you make some small talk, and you get some updates on Johnny’s new life on the Blue Jackets. You give her some updates on Matthew in return. After a bit, Guy shuffles up next to Jane, telling her that it’s time to go. She acknowledges him quickly, turning back to take one of your hands in her own.

“I know he takes care of you,” she says, patting the back of your hand with her second, “But you take care of that boy, too. Okay?” You just nod, smiling and bidding her goodbye. Her and Guy retreat up the steps and out of view. You’re not sure why she feels the need to say these things to you, and you’re not sure why you take them to heart.

You meet Matthew and Brady outside the player entrance, the boys immediately scooping up you and Emma, respectively. Matthew sweeps you off of your feet for a moment, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Once you’re free, you start to dip forward, realizing what you’re doing at the last second and changing track to make sure the kiss lands on his cheek.

He beams at you, and you’re absolutely certain that you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to make him smile.

April, 2023

The day Brady comes home is the best day of the year, you remind yourself for the thousandth time. You’re excited to see him, you are. The way your chest has felt rent open for days isn’t his fault in any way. You’re not going to make him pay for being the messenger.

Once you all get the couple home, you go upstairs with Brady and Emma to help them unpack. They don’t really need help, obviously, but it’s an excuse to spend time together. Brady talks a little about the season, but mostly focuses on his plans for the summer. He talks about wanting to go see G, maybe even take a trip out to visit Tim.

For the most part, you just fold clothes and listen. Eventually, they switch to the topic of the wedding, Emma showing you even more pictures. She’d asked you to be a bridesmaid forever ago, so you’ve already seen most of it, had even helped her pick half of it out, but you’re never going to squash her excitement.

Exhausted from their travel, the two make their way down to the den after everything is put away, collapsing onto the couch. You curl up in your chair, allowing the couple to choose what you watch. They pick something or another, nothing that you can pay attention to right now. Instead, you find yourself examining Brady, picking apart his features, finding all the things he shares with Matthew.

It’s the best day of the year, you remind yourself again. The light of the TV highlights Brady’s jawbone and your skin crawls.

August, 2023

The show is going exceptionally well, exceeding your expectations. The space is filled with strangers, friends, and even your brother and his family. There are critics and collectors, some that you’ve seen at other people’s shows, some that you don’t recognize. Everyone wants to talk to you, and you don’t get a spare moment to breathe for the first few hours.

When you do get a chance to exhale, the rich couple that had been occupying you finally walking away, you catch the color out of the corner of your eye. You’ve been all around the building all night, mingling and networking in equal measure. You hadn’t realized where you ended up until right this second. You turn to the piece, staring as if you’d never seen it before.

You don’t need to look over to see who steps up next to you a minute later.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Matthew says. It doesn’t feel like an accusation, though it is one. All you can do is sigh.

“What did you expect me to do?” you ask, not expecting an answer. You glance at his hands out of the corner of your eye, noticing the wine glass in one hand, water glass in the other. Without a word, Matthew holds the water out in your direction, still fixated on the painting. You take it, feeling odd that not only does Matthew know that you forget to drink enough water, but also that he’s still trying to take care of you.

“It’s me,” he says after a pause. You’re both facing the largest canvas, the centerpiece. Swirls of bright red spread across a crimson background, highlighted with orange, accented with a royal purple. There, in the center, are two comparatively small, even circles of icy blue.

“They’re all you. Or about you, at least,” you say, seeing no need to deny it any longer, “About us.” It’s obvious that Matthew hadn’t expected you to admit it outright, thrown off for a minute by the admission.

“Can we talk?” he asks as you take a sip of water.

“We’re talking right now,” you reply, feeling petty. It’s his turn to sigh. He sets his wine glass down on the nearest horizontal surface before returning to your side, facing you this time.

“Somewhere private,” he clarifies, pauses, “Please.” You may be mad at him, enraged, incensed, but you’ve never been able to deny him anything, and you still can’t, even now.

You shut the storage room door behind you, flicking on the light to chase away the darkness. Matthew has his hands shoved in his pockets, looking around as if there’s anything interesting in here. You cross your arms over your chest, waiting for him to nut up and look you in the face.

“Listen,” he begins, rubbing the back of his neck but still not looking at you, “I know I should have gone about this better.” You snort. No shit. The sound finally brings Matthew’s gaze to meet your own.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Matthew says, motioning with his raised hand, “I didn’t think you’d care that much.” You can feel how incredulous your expression is, and you don’t even try to hide it.

“In what world would I not be upset?” you respond, “After everything?” You can hear yourself, know you sound like a bitter, jealous old ex, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and looks away again. When he looks back, there’s an almost pleading look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says, more sincerely than the first time, “You shouldn’t have had to find out from Brady.” You avert your gaze, working your jaw for a second before you raise your chin and square your shoulders.

“No,” you agree, “I shouldn’t have.”

“I’m sorry I stopped talking to you,” he says, motioning helplessly with his hands, “You have to know how hard that was.” You shake your head, almost disgusted.

“Imagine how hard it was for me,” you reply. Your fingertips are digging into your own arm, fingernails biting into the skin. The fact that he would stand here and imply that this was a struggle for him– as if he expects you to offer sympathy– makes your stomach churn. The guilt in his expression makes you sickly satisfied.

“Listen,” he leads with that word again, as if he has any right to ask it of you, “I didn’t want to upset her. You know how some girls are.” You do know. And it’s still not an excuse.

“You didn’t tell her about me,” you say, anger and hurt straining your voice, “You said that I was just Brady’s best friend. You didn’t even tell her what we had.” You want to scream it at him, just want to scream in general. Maybe if you did, if you released your tight grip on control in a different way than you had with him, maybe it would make him understand.

“What did we have?” he asks. His voice is quiet, just as yours had been when you’d brought up the topic all those months ago.

“I don’t know,” you say, turning his own words back on him. It’s true, anyway. You’ve never known what any of this was. You’d only known what you wanted it to be, what you stupidly, fruitlessly hoped for.

“We never dated,” he replies, voice still low but seemingly not bothered by the uncertainty, “We never called it a relationship. You were never my girlfriend.” It’s a simple fact. It tears your heart out of your chest.

“Just because we didn’t name it doesn’t mean it was nothing,” you insist, squeezing your eyes shut for a second to push down the urge to cry before admitting, “I stopped dating.” He looks even guiltier at that, but it doesn’t soothe anything in you.

“I didn’t look at another man,” you continue, embarrassed and ashamed but unable to let him continue through life without knowing, “I didn’t even want to look at anyone else.” The shame makes the fiery anger burn brighter.

“I gave you three years of my fucking life,” you say, voice raising just enough to make Matthew flinch. You keep it reigned in enough that no one outside will hear, not interested in sharing this conversation with anyone else, especially not potential business contacts. The flames engulf your chest, lick up at your throat, threaten to consume you.

“I never asked you to do that,” Matthew replies, solemn. Your jaw drops, just half an inch, enough to part your lips as your breath hitches. He never asked. He never fucking–

“You–” you begin, breath catching in your throat as your eyes burn with tears you refuse to let escape, “Everything you said, everything you did, and you expected what? For me to just move on?” Your nails are digging so deeply into your biceps that you’re surprised they haven’t drawn blood. Matthew doesn’t respond right away, and you can’t tamp down the impulse to be petty.

“But I guess that’s what you did, huh?” you jab. Matthew shuts his eyes tightly, fists clenching like he wants to fight. It should be threatening, but you’ve always known that he would never dream of laying a finger on you in violence. But then again, you’d thought you knew a lot of things about him.

“Why do you care?” he asks, shoulders tense as he opens his eyes to stare you down, “You don’t even want me.” That shocks a laugh out of you, so completely ridiculous that you can’t help it.

“That’s the most fucked up part– I do want you,” you respond, simultaneously an answer and an admission. His brow furrows as he continues looking at you, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Did you seriously think I didn’t?” you ask, more of a demand, slightly offended because, “Do you think I said all those things for fun? For shits and giggles?” You can’t read his expression, don’t even bother trying. He can feel whatever he wants. That’s not your concern anymore. All you care about is the cold spreading through you, crawling up from the tips of your fingers, freezing your arms, creeping into your chest and beginning to extinguish your rage.

“I loved you, dickhead,” you continue, the words spilling out of you starting to sound pathetic, no matter how hard you’re trying to hold on to the anger, putting the last grasp of it into the words, “Stupid fucking idiot asshole, I loved you.” Matthew gapes at you, hands going lax at his sides. His jaw moves as if to say something, but nothing comes out.

“I loved you and you threw me away like garbage, and didn’t even have the balls to tell me yourself,” you force the sentence out, feeling like you’re choking on every syllable. Matthew’s breathing stutters. You’re expecting annoyance, irritation, maybe even shame or guilt. You’re not expecting his wide eyes, his eyebrows turned up in the middle, his slack jaw.

“You loved me?” he finally asks after a few agonizingly long seconds of silence. There’s something in his voice that you tell yourself you don’t care to analyze.

“Of course I did. How could I not?” you say, huffing as you look upwards, needing a momentary break from this staring contest, “The pathetic part, the part that makes me hate myself, is that I still do.” It’s physically painful to say, no matter that the hurt is psychosomatic. You’ve spent the last few minutes breaking open your ribcage, one bone at a time, revealing to him the space you’d made for him inside of yourself.

“You love me?” he asks, so dumbfounded that he’s repeating himself.

“Yes, Matthew,” you say, facing up to the dread inside of you, the one fact you’ve been struggling with the most since you’d found out the news.

“And I’m terrified. Because I’ve always loved you,” you pour out, barely able to hold yourself together as you meet his eyes, “And I’m afraid that I always will.” There’s not even space for half of a breath before Matthew speaks.

“Please do,” he says. His hands are open, palms facing your direction, as if pleading.

“What?” you ask.

“I didn’t know,” he says, and apparently he’s decided it’s his turn to reveal himself, “I was surprised that you wanted anything to do with me at all. But then you kissed me, and I spent the next three years waiting for you to leave.” The confusion comes over you so quickly that it almost masks the hurt.

“Why would I leave?” you ask. There’s been nothing subtle about your feelings. You’ve told him that he’s the only one you want, that you want to spend the rest of your life by his side, that he’ll always be the only one. How could he hear all of that and think that you would ever leave?

“Because you’re smart and kind and funny and hardworking–” he starts listing off.

“Tessa is all of those things too,” you cut him off. It doesn’t come out as resentful as you would’ve expected a sentence like that to. As you’ve told Terri, you really have nothing against Tessa. Besides, she really is everything he’s saying.

“But she’s not you,” his response comes immediately, emphatically, “I don’t want just anyone like that; I want you, and you happen to be that way.” You’re stunned into silence.

“It’s not the traits, it’s you,” he says, insistent, like he’s trying to convince you of your own worth, “And I kept waiting for you to find someone else, someone who wasn’t hotheaded and self-centered and–” He stops himself, swallowing so hard you can see his throat stutter under the thin skin of his neck.

“Someone better,” he finishes. The thing is that Matthew doesn’t have low self-esteem. He knows he’s a catch, and yet… And yet, he’s standing here, admitting that he’d still thought of you as being so far above him that you could never want him. And it’s not that there isn’t probably someone out there better than him–

“I never wanted someone better,” you tell him, voice almost a whisper. Growing up, you’d created this picture of the perfect man, told yourself that you’d find him one day, would never settle for less. Then you’d met Matthew, and he was nothing like that imaginary ideal. He was flawed; he was real. And you couldn’t help but love him for it.

“And I never wanted anyone else,” he replies, his own voice hushed to match yours, but no less certain, “I still don’t.” Three months ago, you would’ve given anything to hear that. But things are different now.

“I thought that if I went and found someone like you, someone close enough, that I could fall for them too,” he confesses, shame making his face tense, “I thought that if I stopped talking to you, if I kept my distance, that I could get over you.” A fraction of the anger buds in your chest at the idea.

“So you’re using Tessa,” you accuse, instantly offended on her behalf.

“No!” Matthew denies emphatically, pauses, shakes his head, “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” If he is using her, at least he seems ashamed about it. Something in his posture makes you think he isn’t, that he really thought he could love her.

“Look, she’s great. She’s amazing. She’s too good for me, too,” his shoulders have been hunched up to his ears, but they fall now, defeated, “She talks about that spark she felt when we met, the way she feels about me now, and I want, I really want to feel that way too. It would be easier if I could.” Believing this entire time that he truly loves her has been hell for you, but it’s still somehow worse to know that he doesn’t. That he did all of this, hurt you so deeply, for someone he doesn’t even love.

“As much as I’ve tried, I don’t. And I can’t,” he says, turning his gaze to the floor, “And if I’d ever thought that I had the slightest chance with you, I never would have dated her to begin with.” All these years, all those words, all the touches you’ve shared, and he’d still never taken you seriously. It’s not your fault, you know. But you realize now that for every time you’d indirectly confessed your feelings to him, he’d said the same things back. He’d returned every sentiment readily, easily. And as much as he’d apparently had the same idea as you, that the other could never love you back, you hadn’t seen it either. You’ve been just as ignorant of his feelings as he was of yours, just as deep in denial. And now there’s this rift between you, a deep chasm that keeps you apart, all for no reason.

“So, what now?” you ask. There’s nothing else to ask.

“What?” he seems genuinely confused.

“What now?” you repeat, too tired to be upset anymore, “You break her heart? Or do you keep pretending? Fake your way into a wife and kids and a house in the suburbs?” His confusion persists, tongue darting out to wet his lip the way it always does when he’s anxious.

“I thought–” he shakes his head the tiniest bit, as if he can’t believe what’s happening, “I mean, I love you. I want to be with you.” There’s a sadness sitting heavy in your chest, only getting deeper at his words.

“I love you too,” you say, tipping your head an inch to the right, perfectly aware of how melancholy your smile must be, “But you hurt me, and now you have to hurt her too. I thought you were better than this.” You’d thought the world of him. You don’t hate him now, could never force yourself to. But you are disappointed in how everything has played out.

“I thought you didn’t want better?” he says, not really a question. Your lips turn up another centimeter at that.

“Listen,” you say, turning the word back on him. You inhale deeply, exhale slowly. He stays quiet.

“The opportunity of a lifetime is on the other side of that door,” you gesture vaguely over your shoulder, then let your arms relax, your hands fall to your sides, “I don’t know what to do with any of–” you give another vague gesture, “--This.” The devastation is writ clear on his face, telegraphed by his posture, bared in the forefront of his miserably beautiful eyes.

“Out there?” you say, smile still in place, “I know exactly what I want. So I’m going to go get it.” you pause, take another deep breath, “And maybe you’ll be there tomorrow, and maybe you won’t.”

“I will,” he jumps in. You huff an almost-laugh.

“We can figure this all out later,” you say, sure a definite, “For now, I have to focus on the things that I’m sure of.” He nods, looks at the floor, raises his head and looks back at you.

“Did you used to be sure of me?” he asks, an uneven, shaky whisper.

“Yeah,” you say, your entire being feeling so heavy that you can barely hold yourself upright, “I used to be.”

September, 2023

While Brady had departed yesterday, Matthew doesn’t leave until tomorrow. It took some internal debate, but you’ve decided not to go along to drop him off at the airport. His family will think it’s weird if he doesn’t hug you, and you’re not sure if you can handle him touching you yet.

You’re curled up on the couch with a book, letting yourself get lost in the story. A knock comes on the door and you startle. You mark your page and stand, rounding the couch to open the door. When you do, Matthew is standing there.

“Hey,” he greets, giving you the same bittersweet smile you’ve become accustomed to over the past few weeks. You’d given him a key to your apartment right after you’d moved, but you appreciate him not using it right now. You welcome him in with a gesture of your hand, turning to lead the way. You get four steps away before he speaks.

“I broke up with Tessa,” he blurts out. He doesn’t seem happy about it, but he doesn’t seem particularly sad either.

“Why?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest, “You’re that sure that I’ll take you back?” The anger comes and goes as it pleases, and it’s starting to sneak through the space between your ribs.

“No,” Matthew says, looking so unbearably fond of you, “I think you’ll tell me to get fucked.” Some days you want to.

“Then why did you break up with her?” you ask. Part of you has been wondering if, despite everything he’d said, he would stay with her. You’re not sure you would have been able to keep the conversation to yourself if he had, but you would have at least tried.

“Because none of this is fair to her,” he answers, shrugging, “She deserves someone who feels the same way about her that she does them. Someone who’s obsessed with her. She doesn’t deserve to be settled for.” You examine his expression, his stance, and realize that he’s truly being honest. He genuinely wants the best for her.

“How’d she take it?” you can’t help but ask. It makes him grin down at the floor for a moment.

“Honestly?” he asks when he raises his head, “Not great. Could have been worse, though.” As much as you love Matthew, you would have been proud of Tessa if she had slapped him.

“Probably should’ve been worse,” you reply. He grins again, tilting his head as he admires your face.

“Probably,” he agrees. For long moments, you both stand still, eyes locked.

“What now?” you ask, the same question as a couple weeks ago. He shrugs again, but he doesn’t seem as miserable or desperate as he had at the gallery.

“I don’t know,” he replies, that same phrase that you’re still trying to make peace with, “I know what I want. Same thing I’ve wanted this entire time. So I guess it’s up to you.” After three years of him encouraging you to give up control, to let go and follow his lead, he’s handing you the reigns now. However this ends or continues is completely your decision.

“You leave tomorrow,” you say, though you’re both viscerally aware of the fact.

“Yeah,” he gives you the crooked smile that had captured you the first time you’d met, “Don’t suppose you want to come with me? The winter weather’s nicer in Florida.” You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“If you’d asked me that last summer, I probably would’ve said yes,” you admit. You kind of expect him to react with sadness, but you prefer the hope that blooms on his face.

“Maybe I’ll ask you again next summer?” he suggests, offering you the option. At this point, you have no idea where your relationship will be at this time next year. You don’t know if you’ll even have a relationship, of any kind. But if he’s willing to try, so are you.

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling wider than you have in a long while, “Next summer.”

June, 2024

The Hughes brothers are a funny trio. Seeing Jack’s upbeat, outgoing energy bookended on each side by two reserved, perpetually exhausted brothers is always kind of funny. You’d run down the pavement from the Tkachuk’s door to the driveway when you’d seen Quinn climb out of the car’s driver seat, immediately sweeping him up in a hug. The boys had decided to road trip around this summer, so of course you’d strongly suggested that they visit you.

You help them haul their bags out of the trunk, taking Luke’s backpack in hand and insisting on carrying it in for him. The three of them had started teasing you the instant they saw that Matthew hadn’t come out with you.

“Come on, I heard him at the All Star game,” Jack pesters, voice taking a mocking edge as he croons, “Sweet girl.” You laugh brightly, stopping the careful steps you’re taking backwards up the pathway to the house.

“We weren’t dating, I swear,” you insist. Plenty of people over the years have accused you of dating Matthew, but at least he’s funny about it. He stops in front of you, lifting his chin and giving a shit-eating smile.

“Wait, weren’t?” he asks, “As in, past tense?” You feel heat begin to crawl up your face. You’d intended to tell them, of course, but not the second they got here.

“Yeah,” Matthew calls from behind you, and you twist around to watch him close the space between you, “Past tense.” Jack’s glee is overt, but you can see the little signs of happiness on the other two boys’ faces too. Matthew lines himself up against your back, wrapping his arms around you, the gaudy Cup ring on his finger glinting in the light.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into your hair. You can’t see him, but Jack’s smug face makes you sure that Matthew is staring straight at him. “My sweet girl,” Matthew says. It might be the best thing you’ve ever heard.