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macfrog · 1 year ago

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sweet child o' mine | pt. i

purely just some fun and games putting big grumpy joel miller slap bang in the middle of a romcom. i hope you guys enjoy. dedicated to big sis @mrsmando, who is the light of my life, let herself be completely swept away by this idea into unhinged, whimsical mania with me, and who inspired so many lil details for this story. love u, zhort x

pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader

summary: you strike up a deal to attend a wedding with your neighbor as his date. what could go wrong?

warnings: age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), grumpy!joel initially finds reader mildly infuriating, cursing, alcohol consumption, discussion of a car accident (non-graphic) & dead parents, softdom!joel as per, fingering, handjob, comeplay, spitting, drunk unprotected one night stand, creampie, praise kink, one mention of nausea (but nothing happens, my little emetophobic angels), someone falls pregnant and it's not joel miller i'll tell you that much. honk if you love cats!!!

word count: 9.8k

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It’s just gone seven on a Saturday night when his knuckles rap on your door.

The sun casts tall, angled shapes on your living room wall. Lights the pages before you in a glow of tangerine. Refracts through the glass tumbler on your coffee table and bleeds the amber liquid onto the pale wood surface. Everything lit in some variation of gold, everything bowing its head quietly as the day begins to turn its back.

The house is still. The world feels still, as though transitioning. Like you’re sat in a waiting room, leg bouncing, anticipating something you don’t know to look for yet.

Perfect, comfortable, still – until he’s on your porch. And he knocks again.

You snap your book shut and slide it across the table, nudging the heavy glass. The ice clinks, irritated.

“You mind fastenin’ your…delicates to your clothesline a little better?”

His voice shoulders its way into your hallway before you’ve even pulled the door back enough to see him. Not that you need to see him to know who it is. You’ve lived in Austin three years now and met only one person with a voice as low and toneless as Joel Miller’s. Slung in sarcasm, dripping with disdain. All that.

You cross your arms and slant against the doorframe, unable to mask your amusement. “Excuse me?”

He answers by lifting his left hand. From his pointer finger hang a tiny pair of white panties, lace pattern fluttering in the late summer breeze. You glance over his shoulder as you steal them from his grasp, balling them in your fist.

“Uhuh. They were sitting on my back lawn. I have company tonight, y’know. I can’t have women’s underwear just – lyin’ in my damn yard.”

Your head tilts. Ears prick. “Company? You hostin’ somethin’?”

His shoulders drop with a sigh. “No. I am not hostin’ anythin’.”

“Good. ‘cause I’d want an invite.”

“If I were hostin’, you’d be the last person I would invite. And you know that.”

“Ouch,” you pout, “that hurts, Miller. I watered your plants while you were off visiting your brother last month. They woulda died without me there.”

“And I am grateful to you,” Joel grumbles, “but that doesn’t mean I need those anywhere in view of my kitchen window.” He throws a pointed finger to your elbow, where your panties sit scrunched in your fist.

You look down to the froth of frill spilling between your knuckles, and back up to his dark features – his glower casting a shadow over the hazel eyes and deepening the creases between his brows. You smirk, a realization dawning.

Company – that he doesn’t want seeing a pair of someone else’s underwear.

“You have a date.”

Joel’s tongue flicks across the inside of his cheek. He glances over his shoulder and speaks through his teeth. “No, not a date,” he quietly tells the street.

“But you have a lady comin’ over. Or at least – someone you don’t want seeing these.” You unfold your arms and twirl your fist. The gentle wind lifts the lace.

He grunts. A low hmph. Agreement, you think.

“Sounds like a date.”

He hisses, “’s not a date.”

Your stare doesn’t slip from his. Not when his brows tighten, not when his jaw does, too. Not even when he sucks a breath between gritted teeth. Your smile widens.

Finally, with a sigh, he concedes. “It’s…it’s somebody Tommy ‘n Maria are tryna set me up with. Alright?”

“So – a date.”

“If you don’t –” Joel’s head flicks over to his own driveway at the same time his hand lifts, a pointed gesture you read as – shut the fuck up. “We’re just having a few drinks. Just – hangin’ out.”

“Just hangin’ out,” you repeat, eyes widening. “One-on-one. With some woman who – Wait, Tommy’s in Wyoming. How the hell do he and his wife know someone way the hell down here?”

“From before they moved. And – Maria ain’t his wife. Yet. They’re getting married next month.”

Suddenly the sun reappears over the dark horizon. The evening begins to clear up, make sense again. You lift your chin, nodding.

“Right, right. So, she gonna be your plus one, or…?”

The understanding raises his heckles again. Exasperated, he asks, “How many damn questions are you gonna –? I’m only here to – to return your –” He nods once more to the pale fabric in your hand.

A laugh shoots from your nostrils. “What’s the matter? You don’t like – whatever her name is?”

“Laura.”

“Laura,” you breathe.

“And there ain’t nothin’ wrong with her. She just – she…”

“She…?”

“She has, like, five cats, and it’s just…hair, everywhere. And at their engagement party, she spilled an entire margarita down me. Right down my –” He sweeps a hand down his front, balling his fists again once they reach the hem of his shirt.

Your lips turn, amused. “Five cats. Cat lady Laura. Well. Have fun, I guess. Thanks for these.”

He acknowledges your raised fist with a bashful glance. He’s already halfway down your front steps when he says, “Keep an eye on your laundry from now on,” and strides off back to his own place.

Joel has lived here his whole life. In Austin. You’ve no idea when he moved in next door, just that he was here when you did. You don’t know much about him at all – the fact he even filled you in enough to tell you about his date is shocking enough.

The day you first arrived, U-Haul truck squealing to a halt by the curb, he found himself unlucky enough to be stood in his front yard watering the blond patches of his grass. He saw you struggling to open the rear door of the truck, and with a grumble and a glance across the street for a more eager rescuer, he tossed his hose and came over to help.

He unclicked the heavy latch and pushed the door up with enough ease to put you to shame. And he seemed to feel some obligation when he saw the mass of belongings stuffed in the back, to help you unload them. Didn’t seem overjoyed by the thought, mind you, what with the sigh he let slip when you hopped up and held out the first box.

He indulged you for no more than one hour. Answered every question you had about the neighborhood, dodged every one about himself. He told you about the couple across the street with the newborn baby, told you about your neighbor on the other side who pretends to garden just so she can snoop on everyone else’s business. And as soon as the last box thudded down on your gleaming living room floor, he nodded, and paced back over to his own property.

He's a good guy. You know this much. He’s a dick to you most days, but he’s honest, and he’s kind when you catch him in the right light. He takes deliveries for you when you’re not home; he once drove Diane to the vets when she showed up on his doorstep in the dead of night, Fred the Jack Russell ailing in her arms.

He’s observant. Noticed just this summer the three different plumbers who showed up to your house in the space of two days, and came over as the third guy was leaving – his shining bald head low between his shoulders.

‘s the matter? Joel asked, watching the navy overalls sink into the rusted vehicle.

Kitchen sink’s leakin’. Fuckin’ – nobody can fix it.

He shouldered you out of the way with his then-trademark sigh and left twenty minutes later, your kitchen finally free of the dripdripdrip you’d been plagued with for a week straight.

He’s good. He’s a good neighbor. But, man, is he private.

You’ve never seen the inside of his place. His body blocks it anytime you’re on his doorstep. He has a brother, you know that – though, only since last month, when he asked you to keep an eye on his garden – and you know, now, that the brother is getting married.

You know that he likes country music, know he plays guitar – accidentally. You heard him one day in the spring, when he left his window open and you were lounging by your pool. When he looked out and noticed how you’d angled your sunbed to listen, really listen, he slammed it shut.

You know he’s single and childless and has been for at least the three years you’ve lived next door to him.

You know little fucking else.

The words on the curled pages seep into one another. You’re staring through the book now back in your hands, the shape of your living room blurring around you: the brick fireplace, the still, red light of the TV. The lulling sway of the sheer curtains, pushed like the tides by the air through the open window.

You cross your ankles on the coffee table. Your lips purse. Tongue dabs at the smoky-sweet singe of whiskey on the flesh of your cheeks. From here, you can see the street outside Joel’s house. If – when – Laura pulls up, you’ll know. And you’ll be here to watch. Survey. Observe.

See what kind of woman a guy like Joel Miller takes to his brother’s wedding.

It’s nine fifty-two when she eventually leaves.

She’s been in there two hours and seventeen minutes. Her car – a kind of rotten green Chevrolet with one tail light out – sits patiently out front, like even it can’t wait to help her fucking disappear.

You’re hoisting a swollen black bag down your drive when his porch light flickers on and his front door opens. The glossy plastic exhales as it slumps against the trashcan. You dust your hands. Joel hasn’t noticed you yet.

“…so nice gettin’ to properly know you,” Laura’s crooning, sidestepping as Joel walks calmly down to her car. Ushering her. You hold back a laugh.

“Thanks for comin’,” he says, his voice falling flat in the windless evening. He’s a step ahead of her, like a parent leading their child away from the park. She’s still babbling about his six-string.

“Maybe next time I can hear a little somethin’…” she says, and you know from the way he halts that Joel hears the same questioning tone you do, the way somethin’ curls up at its end.

“Maybe,” he says, curtly. His words curl down. And then nothing else, and Laura – who, now that she’s a little closer, stood on the curb by her car door, you notice has sweeping golden hair which flicks away from her plump cheeks, and bright eyes which dazzle in the dusky glow – is forced to cough up one last chance.

“I gave you my number,” she says, then, “I didn’t get yours?” and this time, it’s definitely a question.

Joel pretends to pat down his pockets. “I musta left my phone in the house.”

You can’t help it. A scoff bursts from your lips. But he still doesn’t look over.

“Well,” Laura tugs on the handle, “thank you for a lovely evenin’. I’ll hear from ya.”

Joel smiles but puts a hand on the door, like he might slam it shut for her if she tried to backtrack. But she doesn’t. She swings both legs in, pulls it closed, and the engine spurts to life.

As she pulls off, Chevrolet jolting a little, you notice the bright yellow bumper sticker plastered squint beneath the license plate. You walk silently over to Joel, grass prickly under your socks.

“Honk If You Love…Cats,” you murmur, shoulder brushing off his bicep.

He sniffs. Tightens the grip his arms have on his chest. His eyes are fixed on the one red light, slowly shrinking into the distance. “Don’t even.”

“Good date?”

“I said don’t.”

“She talk much about her cats?”

“Goodnight.”

“Did you ask their names, at least?”

He’s backing up, crossing the dark lawn towards his front steps. He looks you up and down, his lips a flat line. Your sweat shorts. Your bare legs. The tight vest top molded around your breasts. His eyes shoot back up. “No more questions. No more pesterin’ me.”

“Nothin’ about the cats? Seriously, dude?” You lift your arms, grinning after his dark figure, swaggering up the porch steps.

Joel ignores you. He disappears through his front door and the light is snuffed. You slink back up to your house, grateful for the blanket of darkness covering the skip in your step.

Eleven hours later, you’re stood in front of your bedroom mirror.

The day melts against your window. Brilliant blue sky, cradling soft puffs of snow-white clouds. Crows on Diane’s roof cawing, slowly yellowing trees rustling. The bright, hot square across your front where the sun forces her way in.

You turn, taking the loose hem of your sleepshirt in your fingers, and pull it over your body, tossing it to the foot of the bed as you examine the pattern of colors hanging from inside your closet.

You take them one by one, tug them free, slot them back in. Eventually you settle for a gray hoodie, cropped and loose. As you haul it from its hanger, there’s a whine from the wooden cabinet. A squeal. The top shelf rips from either side, dropping to the closet floor and taking the pole with it.

“What the f–? You gotta be fucking kidding me,” you growl, stepping forward to run your fingers along the splintered wood where the nails have ripped themselves free. Four black holes, jagged insides of the closet pricking your fingertips.

The crumple of clothes and hangers sulks up at you pathetically. You fall back onto your bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. The fan whirs slowly, scooping your gaze and throwing it in lazy circles.

The closet was old, anyways. Was here when you moved. It’s probably about time you had some new ones built. But fuck, that’s gonna cost. Ripping the old ones out, building them from scratch. The fan pulls your eyes back around to twelve o’clock.

Joel’s a contractor. He could do ‘em. Might give you a discounted rate, too, for all the times you move his newspaper from his front lawn to his doorstep for him. Either that, or he’d want something in return. And what handy skills do you have? You once knitted a scarf for you grandma for Christmas. Maybe not Joel’s thing. You can cook mac ‘n cheese – though one lousy meal isn’t payment enough for an entire wall of solid wood, two panes of glass and two days’ labor.

A favor, maybe. An IOU. What the fuck kinda favor does Joel Miller need–?

You’re hopping over the tiny burst of hedge between his yard and yours before the thought is finished, bending to scoop his newspaper up and slotting it under your arm. He answers just as you lift your fist to pound on his door for a second time.

You slap the rolled paper into his chest. “I have an idea.”

He squints at you in the summer light. “Wh–? Didn’t I tell you not to p–?”

“I’ll be your date.”

Joel blinks.

“I’ll be your date,” you repeat. “I got a wardrobe needs replacing. You do it, for free, and I’ll be your date.”

“Your wardrobe?”

“Crapped out on me this mornin’. I don’t want to pay for some stranger who’ll overcharge me ‘n do a half-assed job. Fix it, ‘n you don’t have to take cat lady Laura to Tommy’s wedding. And you can fix my kitchen sink, too.”

“I already fixed your kitchen sink.”

“It’s back at it. Drippin’ all through the damn night. Drip drip drip –”

“Alright.” Joel’s palm is up again. He does that a lot when he’s talking to you. “Alright. Wardrobe ‘n sink.”

“We have a deal?” you ask, extending your hand.

His chest fills with a thoughtful breath. His eyes scan you up and down, lingering somewhere a little lower than your jaw for a second. And then, the heavy weight of his palm against yours. The tightening of his fingers around your wrist. One sure shake.

Deal.

Two weeks before the wedding, you’re at Joel’s door again.

He’s in a black tee, dark sweatpants slung low on his hips. His hair is damp, fringe still dripping onto his forehead. He runs a hand through the gray-singed brown and stares at the tangle of fabric slung over your arm. “The hell is this?”

“Do you know what you’re wearin’?”

His eyes roll up to meet yours. “Do I know what I’m wearin’?”

You nod. “You’re the best man. Guessing Tommy has you covered?”

“Black suit,” he says, after a beat.

“That’s it? He ain’t got no theme?”

Joel’s head cocks. “I don’t do themes.”

You roll your eyes, ducking under his arm fixed against the doorpost. He manages three words of protest and then shuts the door in resignation, turning to watch as you take his stairs two at a time.

“You are so damn annoyin’, you know that?” his voice echoes behind you.

“You want this date or not, Miller?” you call over your shoulder, following the route through the identical house to your own bedroom – thankful when you nudge the door and it opens to reveal his bland, colorless decor. “Very…gray,” you note, feeling the shadow of him over your shoulder.

You throw the dresses down on his bed, satin and lace and pink and green swimming between one another on his sheets.

“I’m not wearin’ a dress.”

You glower at him. “Ha. We have to match.”

He rubs the towel against the back of his head, drying the dark hair. “Match how?”

“Y’know, your suit ‘n my dress. If I’m your date, we have to match.”

“Already told you. I’m wearin’ a black suit.”

“Right. But, like �� what color tie? And can it be any of these colors?” You hold your hands out, surfing over the sea of shades. “Maybe,” you lift your eyebrows, eyes darting to the pale teal color, “this one?”

Joel entertains you for all of five seconds, lifting his cheeks in a false grin before they deflate. “No. Black.”

“Joel.”

He slings the towel over his folded arms, and looks at you plainly. “Black,” he says again, in a tone of voice which sounds something like a door being slammed shut.

Your eyes thin, and you gather your dresses up in one swipe. “Can you just –? Will you make sure that you match my corsage, at least?”

“Why the hell are you so hung up on this?”

“I’m not. I’m just tryna make it believable. You turned down cat lady Laura, this is what you get.”

He sighs, tossing the towel over to his laundry basket. “I will make sure I match your corsage. Happy?”

“Happy. Are you ready?”

“Give me five minutes.”

You huff, head rolling back. “You are so prima-donna, Joel Miller.”

With a sarcastic chuckle, he shoves you out of his bedroom to get dressed. You saunter down his stairs, drinking in every detail of his home as though it’s the only chance you’ll get to see it.

It probably is, when you think about it. You don’t imagine he’ll be inviting you over for drinks anytime soon.

Your eyes move along the wall as you slowly thump down his stairs, thrown from framed photo to framed photo – a black and white photo of a man with a tousle-haired boy on his lap, the kid’s tongue sticking from the corner of his mouth as he wraps his small hand around the neck of a guitar; an out-of-focus Christmas photo, a family of four sat in front of a million multicolored orbs dotted along the branches of a tree; a kid with skinned knees crouched by a German shepherd, his lanky arms hooked around the dog’s thick neck.

One brown suede jacket hangs from a coat peg at the bottom, Joel’s boots sat loose and unlaced beneath. A dark blue blanket draped over the back of his couch. A painting of a moose over his fireplace. Shelves lining one entire wall decorated with carved-wood animals, with more photographs of times gone and memories made, with books and DVDs that lend your fingertip with a heap of white dust as you drag it across their spines.

Enough to paint a picture, not quite enough to show you the colors. The tones, the depth. Despite your best efforts, the man remains a mystery. You settle with the fact he will never be fully revealed.

The creak of his stairs turns your attention from the guitar on the wall around to his tall figure, fixing the collar of the loose flannel over his shoulders.

“You ready?” Joel asks, bending with a groan to reach for his boots.

“Yep,” you reply, leaning forward to glance into his kitchen while his head’s down. The most you manage to observe are the light drapes, the sunlight shooting through and bouncing off of a white-topped island.

“’s go,” he says, keys dangling from his finger.

It takes twenty minutes to drive to Home Depot.

You chitter in Joel’s ear the entire time, reading from his handwritten list of measurements and supplies needed for your new closet. ‘n how do you know this is all enough? Because I know. What if you get started and it’s not? I won’t; it’s enough. You sound so sure. That’s ‘cause I’ve done it before, kid. You take many closetless girls out on fake wedding dates, Joel?

“What’s our story, then?” you ask in the store, fiddling with hanging packets of door hinges while Joel reads thrice over his note. Your hand dives into the bag of M&M’s he begrudgingly bought you at a gas station on the way.

“Our story?” he mumbles back, the words slipping under the mental math you can see going on behind his eyes.

“Like, when people ask how we met. What’s our meet-cute? Both reached for the same door hinge, our hands touched and lit aflame? That kinda thing?”

He doesn’t laugh. Your smile dampens instantly. You kick his boot. “Joel.”

“’sec,” he frowns, “I’m focusing.”

You lean close, pushing on your toes to study the folded slip. His scrawled numbers, the pencil lines blunt and smudged in the creases of the paper.

“Twentytwofortysixeightyninetyfivesixhundredelevenfourtwelvenineteen–”

Joel’s lips seep a maddened sigh; he glances down the aisle like a store attendant might separate you from him if he demanded with enough passion, or maybe if he slipped them a twenty.

“Do you mind?” he barks, his expression a brick wall for your giggles to fall flat to the floor against.

“Home Depot’s your stomping ground. Why the hell do I gotta come watch you pick hinges and timber?”

“Because it’s your damn closet I’m fittin’. Just –” he swipes two packets from their peg, tossing them into the shopping cart, “– come on.”

Joel makes off down the muck-colored floor, the overhead lights reflecting harshly in the shiny surface. The front right wheel of the cart trembles as it rolls, nervously leading the two of you down an aisle lined with cylinder tins and pamphlets on Choosing the right finish.

“So, are your parents gonna be at this wedding?” you ask, taking the cart from Joel’s hands when he drifts off to study a shelf of wood varnish.

His jaw turns towards you, and then back to the tin in his hand. “Yeah. Why?”

“Do I get to meet ‘em?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on. You’re not gonna introduce your date to your mom and dad?”

He scoffs, stealing a handful of candy. “My fake date?”

“They don’t know that. Let me meet Mr. and Mrs. Miller.”

He holds two tins up, offering them to you like answer to your question. “Matt or gloss? Guess it don’t really matter if I’m painting ‘em after.”

“Stop fuckin’ ignoring me. I hate when you do that.”

He leans in close, lowering the matt varnish into the cart. “You think I’m gonna introduce you ‘n your potty mouth to my mom?”

You smirk, eyes narrow. “Dick.”

“Funny. What color paint you want? You said something about duck egg?”

“Planning on repainting my room that color, yeah. Hey, you could –”

He swats your pointed finger away, taking the cart back. “We shook on new wardrobe. No changin’ the deal,” he mutters, wandering over to the rainbow of paint tins on the opposite side of the aisle.

You follow him over, eyes moving from blue over to green, the tins plastered with the fake smiles of families and fluffy pet dogs on the front. “Where are your mom and dad from?” you ask.

“Austin,” he replies, eyes squinting to read the small print on the back of one vibrant shade. You shake your head and guide his wrist back to the shelf, where he obediently sets the heavy tin back. “Never known anywhere else,” he adds. “What about you? Where’s Mr. and Mrs. Potty Mouth?”

“Uh,” you swipe at your nose awkwardly, “they’re up in Allandale. That’s where I grew up.”

“That so? I got a cousin who used to live that way. Used to take my bike up every Saturday. He lived right by this old car shop, all these old classics they used to fix up ‘n resell.”

“Yeah,” you say, “right next to the cemetery, right?”

“That’s the one,” Joel says, lifting paint tins to the light and setting them down again. “They live nearby?”

Your breathing shifts, starts to claw its way up your throat. Your chest heats, skin lighting with an irritating anxiety. “They’re, um,” you gulp, “they’re in the cemetery.”

Joel pauses, letting the tin slip from his grasp with an echoing thud against the wooden shelf which reverberates in your ears a second too long. “Oh,” he says, set on your expression.

“It’s okay – I don’t mind. It’s – it was a car accident, back when I was eight. I wasn’t in it, or anything. I grew up with my grandma. Really, Joel, I don’t mind,” you add, when his face falls and he begins to apologize.

“I had no idea,” he says, and you break the eye contact before you break a fucking sweat.

“’s all good,” you murmur, lifting paint tins of your own now, focusing on deblurring your glossy vision, “I got to buy a big house with the money they left.”

It thaws him a little. He snorts, and taps the lid of the tin you’re holding. “That one’s nice. You, uh – you okay?”

You finally turn back, the world clearer, colors no longer bleeding into one another through sharp tears. “Yeah. I’m fine. We got everything?”

Joel nods, and wheels the cart around. “You can meet her, if you want. My mom. She’s a little full on, but I reckon you can handle her.”

You smile, following him down the aisle.

A month after he delivered your underwear back to you, you’re back on Joel’s doorstep.

Your hand flicks nervously at your side as you wait for him to answer, petals of your corsage quivering. The clip of his footsteps echoes down the stairs, a deep sound growing louder and louder until the door clinks open and you’re separated only by air.

Joel’s eyes scan down your body at the same time yours scan down his. Black suit, sure enough, just without the jacket, and with his tie slung around his loose collar. You both freeze when your eyes meet again, your lips silently forming the shape of an avalanche of words that refuse to sound until Joel’s do.

“Wow, you –”

“– look great, I –”

“– nice dress, is that –? Sorry –”

“– no, I’m sorry, you were – sorry.” A laugh pushes from your throat. “You look – you look good. Scrub up well, ‘n all that.”

“You too. You – Yeah. That’s a nice color, after all. You suit it.” His eyes linger on your chest, your breasts draped in lustrous silk, decorated with the glint of golden jewelry. You notice.

“Thanks. After all?” You snort, and Joel’s exterior seems to crack a little.

He steps back, ushering you in. “Alright,” he says, taking the tote with your change of clothes from your wrist. He watches across the street as you step over the threshold, his fingertips light on your back as you pass by, like little shocks of lightning up your spine. “You know what I meant.”

Your dress swishes around your ankles, your heels clicking along his varnished floor. Your arms lock around your torso, holding your pashmina in place while Joel totters around, tossing his jacket over his shoulders. His shirt stretches from his tight waistband, fabric flattening against his tummy. Your eyes shoot north again when he speaks.

“You mind doin’ my tie? It’ll end up squint if I do.”

“Sure,” you reply, stepping forward.

He buttons the top of his shirt and lifts his chin, staring at the wall behind you as you tug on the black fabric, the silk slipping through your fingers. You steal glances at the trim of his beard, his pink lips beneath the dark bristles; the slope of his nose, the lines on his worn skin.

He’s rough around the edges, sure, a man in his late forties. But there’s something soft about him, something familiar and…comfortable. The pages of a used sketchbook, the lived-in material of a favorite dress.

You pull the knot higher until it’s sitting in the notch below his Adam’s apple, smoothing it down and giving his chest a light pat before stepping back again.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he mumbles, and a spark lights in your chest. “Oh,” he says, holding a finger up and disappearing into the kitchen. He returns with a little white box, holding it out for you to see.

Your cheeks swell, eyes flitting up to acknowledge the proud look on his face. “Very nice. Good job.”

“You can do the honors,” Joel says, handing you the boutonniere by the stem.

You pin it through his lapel, straightening it with a focused glance. Joel’s eyes are on you, watching the flutter of your eyelashes, the tilt of your head. “There,” you whisper, leaning back.

He extends his elbow, something of a smile on his lips. You don’t see it often. It beckons a mirrored expression.

Arm in arm, Joel leads you out to the truck, where he helps you up and waits for you to scoop your dress into the footwell before closing the door. You watch patiently as he locks the front door, slings both your bags over his shoulder and jogs back to the truck, tossing them in the backseat before joining you in the front.

“How come he didn’t send a limousine? Or a Jag, or somethin’?”

“You think we’re made a’ money?” Joel asks, smirking.

You return the smile, wrapping your shawl over your body. “Can I pick the music?” you ask, earnestly, a tinge of sweetness to your voice.

Joel glances over again, reaches behind your headrest to reverse out of the drive. He runs his tongue along his top teeth. “No,” he says.

Three hours later, Tommy and Maria are married.

The wedding is…big. Joel’s family is big. The venue – a rustic hotel suite, fairy lights draped from the rafters, blooming flowers sprouting from crystal vases, lace tablecloths and tied chair cushions and wax dripping from thick, naked candles – is big.

Joel’s been good about it – that friendly neighbor you see all too little has been kicked into high gear. He delivered you by hand straight to his mom – a small woman with silver hair neatly twisted into an updo at the back of her head – who took your hand and held it tightly all the way to your seats.

Kind and warm, she asked where you were from, how you met Joel, how long you’d been dating. She offered you some tissues before the ceremony started, then winked and nodded in Joel’s direction as the bridesmaids swept down the aisle.

You lingered behind the photographer while he took photos of the wedding party, instructing them to shuffle a little closer, that’s it; ma’am, with the red hair, lower your bouquet a little; alright, now, everyone: big smiles!

You worried that Joel had kept the same placated smile frozen on his face for so long that it might never melt away, might never return to the stoic scowl you’re so used to seeing on him. You didn’t even realize you were staring at him, until he waved you down, flicked his hand, and beckoned you over to the group.

You hesitated. I don’t know if I –

Get over here, girl, Tommy had called, grinning alongside his big brother.

The two Millers slotted you in like a jigsaw piece between their bodies, two arms wrapped around your back – Tommy’s, loose on your shoulders, and Joel’s, tight around your waist. He held you close, squeezing you into his side while the photographer praised the party and snapped photo after photo, the flash burning into your eyes by the time he clapped his hands and thanked you all for your patience.

Drink? Joel had asked, and you’d responded with one thumb up, the other massaging your eyelids. He squeezed your shoulder and disappeared into the crowd of bodies.

He’s still over there – by the bar, a wooden structure draped in ivy and studded by steel bolts. His beer in one hand and your wine in the other. A lean, poised figure stood opposite him – her dress a royal purple, her hair a wave of brown spilling over her bare shoulders.

She’s beautiful – a striking charm which draws your eye to her like an arrow directly through the sea of bodies between here and there. Her languid movements, the slow roll of her neck to sweep the hair from one side of her body to the other.

Her head falls back in laugher, her bejeweled hand falls softly on his arm. Your throat closes sharply. Joel nods, angling as if to make off, but she holds onto him and leans in. He laughs, then, at whatever her full lips whisper into his ear, and he finally breaks off from her and returns to you.

He pushes the glass by its base across the smooth tablecloth. Your fingers brush over one another as you trade, the stem sitting between your index and middle. He’s warm, his knuckles kissing yours.

“How was it, then, talkin’ to my mom?” Joel asks.

You smile, propping your chin on the heel of your palm. “I like her. She’s funny.” And then, when he tosses his head in response, “Who were you talkin’ to?”

Joel follows your eyeline over to the woman in the purple dress. The glint of white crystal on her neck. The drama of dark hair on pale skin. “Uh,” he wanders around your back to his chair, “we used to work together.”

Your nails tap against the glass. “Oh, yeah?”

He sniffs. Doesn’t meet your eye. “Yep.”

“You were talking to her for a long time.”

He watches a blue orb dance over your head on the wall, a spot of light from the disco ball over the dancefloor. “Lotta memories.”

“Why won’t you look at me?”

His eyes plummet. Fall from the string bulbs straight to your face, sparkling in the rainbow lights. “You want me to look at you? There.”

You grin. “’s better. If you stare up there long enough, they might stick.”

“Safer to have ‘em stuck on you, is it?”

“Mhm,” your voice echoes around the curve of your wine glass, “better view. So, who is she?”

Joel shifts uncomfortably. He twirls the bottle in his fingers. “We…we were together for some time. A few years.”

“An ex,” you muse, stain of lipstick left on the rim of your glass. “How many years?”

“Eight.”

You almost choke on your drink. “Eight – eight years?”

Joel nods, waiting for you to catch your breath. Expression never changing. Bottle still twirling. “Haven’t seen her in a while. We were just catchin’ up.”

“Eight fucking years. Why the fuck aren’t you married?”

He scoffs. “That’s a fifth-date question.” He lifts the bottle to his lips, tongue pushes against the glass.

“I don’t need five fuckin’ wardrobes,” you quip, and he laughs. Like, genuinely laughs. His head tips back, his teeth show. Your chest swells, confidence and relief blooming there. She didn’t make him laugh like that – not from where you were watching.

It becomes something of a mission in the back of your mind – tallying up how many times you can make his chest shudder, his shoulders jerk. How many times he leans in closer and repeats whatever you said, eyes closing over and hand hitting his thigh. How many times he looks at you and your stomach flutters, the blood cartwheels through your veins, the bones of your ribcage readjust and make room for the swelling of your heart.

Within four rounds, you’ve lost count.

The thudding beat of the music muffles in your drunken ears, like it’s coming from the next room. Your gaze fixes on the vase in the center of the table, the bouquet spilling over the glass. The wide burst of speckled lilies, the humble blush of tulips between. The colors soften and blur the longer you stare at them.

The jerk of Joel’s shoulders stirs you from your daydream. That’s one more.

“What?” you ask, head rolling to look over to him.

“You still in there?” he asks, one word slurring into the next like waves lapping.

You scoff, looking back to the pink flowers. “You know who has tulips?” you ask him.

He lifts his eyebrows. Who?

“Alice.”

“Brown?”

Your head nods heavily. “One time, she was out getting her mail, and I had just pulled up in my car on the phone to my best friend – he’d just broken up with his girlfriend, it was a whole thing…” You bat your hand. “Anyway. She pretended to tend to her tulips for forty-five minutes while I sat talkin’ to him in the driveway.”

Joel’s head tilts back with a burst of laughter. “She hear every word?”

“Every – damn – word. Stood by the fence listenin’.”

“That woman is som’ else,” Joel says, shaking his head. He stares down at the bottle between his fingers. His thumbs play with the curled corner of the label. “Didn’t I warn you about her?”

“Mhm.” You smile, realizing he has the same memory that you do, locked up somewhere in his mind. The sweat running down his temple, the dark patch between his shoulder blades. His hands gripping the heavier boxes, leaving you to carry the linen, the base of a lamp. Nodding as he wandered back over to his own porch, calling back for you to Holler if you need anythin’.

The high squeal of the Sweet Child O’ Mine intro snaps you back to the wedding reception. Tommy and Maria are playing air guitar on the dancefloor over Joel’s shoulder. You unstick your gaze from his white shirt, unsure how long you’ve been fucking staring.

Joel sits forward, drags his chair across the polished floor closer to you. He fixes the strap on your dress, untwisting it before settling back again. Your eyes follow his fingers as they leave your shoulder and sit back on the curve of his thigh, lifting when his voice breaks through to your eardrums.

“What room number did you say you were, again?”

Your shoulders roll. “Thirty-four, I think.”

Joel nods. Points to himself. “Thirty-six.” And then he glances over his shoulder, watches as Tommy kneels before Maria and rocks his head, his messy mop of hair tossed across his shoulders. The older Miller brother turns back. “Think they’ll miss us if we call it a night?”

“We’re callin’ it a night?”

“Figure if I’m headin’ off then you won’t wanna be sat here by yourself,” Joel says, and he’s right. He stands up, sets the half-empty bottle on the tablecloth and stares down at you. “I’m callin’ it a night,” he tells you. “You comin’?”

The colors in the room spin like the reels of a slot machine. Your fingers sit lightly in his outstretched palm, and you pull yourself up alongside him.

“’s a good girl,” he mutters, looking over your shoulder to the doorway, and your eyes sober up long enough to catch the flicker in his eye.

You totter along the hallway, arm in arm, anchoring yourselves together. Whichever way one sways, the other inevitably follows. You’re laughing, and Joel’s hushing you, warning that there are folks tryna – tryna sleep, we’re in a fancy place, hey, da-rlin’, no – you gotta shhhut up.

“Great party,” you decide, finally docking against your door.

“Yeah,” Joel agrees, leaning a little on the wall. The gentle glow of the hallway lights him perfectly; the strong angle of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbones. The hazel pools that make up his irises, the swollen circles of black in the middle. And the twinkle in them, like the moon reflecting on dark water, every time his gaze lifts to you.

He’s different tonight. Maybe it’s the alcohol. The way it colors everything in a peachy film, all objects softened and rosy and shapeless. But he feels different, too. You suddenly realize, shoulder pressed hard against the cold doorframe, that you’ve never touched one another more than you have today. His elbow in yours, his arm around your waist, his hand through yours as you danced together.

“Are you tired?” you ask, head rolling.

“Tired? No. Drunk, yeah. Not tired.” He laughs again. It’s infectious.

“You wanna come inside?” you ask, words leaping from your giggle.

He takes ten seconds to consider it. Slumps into the wall, steadied only by his forearm pushing him back upright. His watch face catches the light behind him.

“Yeah. Fuck yeah, I do.”

Your hand fumbles in your clutch for the keycard, swiping the handle and pushing down heavily. You spill into the dark room, light sneaking in from the sconce outside your window, and spin back to face him, his hand locked tight with yours.

Joel follows you slowly as you back towards the bed, kicking your heels off and tripping over the skirt of your dress. When your legs hit the plush mattress, his body leans into yours. Your lips ghost across his, your words pushing them apart one by one.

“This ain’t – part of the – agreement,” you murmur, the coarse hair of his beard scratching your chin. You pull apart his tie, loosening the knot.

“Changed my mind,” he replies, collapsing on top of you on the bed.

Your head rolls back when his lips suck into your neck. You wrestle with his belt, with the waist of his suit trousers. “No changin’ the deal, remember?”

“Tell me to stop.”

If you had any intention of answering him, your body overrides it. Words lassoed and dragged back down where they came from, your throat opening only to gasp when Joel’s teeth graze the flesh of your breast. His fingers tug on the straps of your dress, letting them fall from your shoulders until your chest sits exposed.

He drags his tongue along your skin, dipping between your tits while his hands massage them, fingers pinching your nipples. Your back lifts and his hands move beneath, following the curve of your spine to where your dress pools loose around your waist. He pushes down, slinking the smooth fabric from your body.

“You fuckin’…” He clicks his teeth, laughing behind them. Another flush of heat washes over your skin.

You giggle, bending your knees to cover the lace panties he knows all too fucking well. Joel stops you, pushes your legs back down with two heavy hands.

“Don’t get shy now, baby,” he murmurs, opening your body up again. “You were so happy about me seein’ ‘em a few weeks ago, no?”

“’s different,” you reply, tang of alcohol fueling your words, “now I just want you to take them off me.”

He cocks his head, drinking every word you’re handing over like it’s water from an oasis. “Such a dirty girl, ain’t you?”

You pull him closer by the collar and line your mouth against his, the tip of your tongue wetting the inside of his lips. “You got no fucking idea,” you whisper, whipping the shirt from his torso.

Joel growls, flipping you over and pulling you by the shoulders flush against his chest. You hook an arm around his neck, turn to grant him access to your lips. He kisses you like a starved animal, savoring every taste, teeth nipping at your tingling lips.

His hand curves around your hips, pushing beneath your underwear to cup your mound, middle finger pushing on the spongey hood of your clit. Your head falls limp against his collarbone, back arching as Joel holds you steady with an arm around your waist.

“’s alright, baby,” he coos, his tongue licking the shell of your ear. “I’m gonna take good care of ya. Gonna give you what you need, alright?”

A strangled moan unravels across your tongue, echoing into Joel’s mouth. Your hips begin to gyrate, meeting the rhythm of his hand, his finger massaging rough circles into your clit. He smirks, peeling the panties down your thighs.

“Attagirl,” he breathes, “you want it bad, huh? Gettin’ so worked up so fast. Here.”

He removes his hand from between your legs, ignoring your moan of protest and replacing it with two fingers on your bottom lip. “Open,” he instructs, and you obey like a fucking dog. He slips them in, thick and heavy, and waits for you to coat them with your wine-stained tongue.

Joel pushes down, forcing a muffled gag from your throat which lifts the corners of his mouth. He shakes his head lightly, whispering, “You got it, ‘s okay.”

A thread of saliva strings between his fingers and your lips when he lowers his hand again, trailing his fingers through your folds until he’s dancing along the seam of your cunt. You jolt forward; Joel hauls you back.

“Just fucking – do it,” you whimper, your walls clenching around nothing.

He holds his fingers together, curling and inserting them in a painfully slow motion. Your knees widen on the mattress, body sinking down by instinct to meet his fist, to feel his thick fingers and wide knuckles as deep as they’ll go.

You gasp when Joel begins hooking them inside you, nudging against your walls like your heartbeat against your clit. Your hand lowers, slipping beneath his loose waistband, beneath the elastic of his boxers and around his already solid cock.

Joel groans, fucking you harder on his hand. “Fuck, just like that, baby. You feel what you do to me?”

“Uhuh,” you reply, voice wanton and broken.

You squeeze him, your fist moving up and down, his warm skin following the movements of your tight grip. His tip is already soaked, precome staining his underwear, dribbling down your thumb.

Joel uses his free hand to shove his pants down, crumpling on the floor at his feet when they free his cock. You carve your mouth around his, the two of you exchanging breath and flicking your tongues together as you fuck one another’s hands, the room slowly filling with the hot, muggy smell of sex.

Joel’s the first to cave. With a jerk of his hips, he takes you by the wrist and frees himself from your clutches.

“You’re gonna make me come, darlin’,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers from your cunt.

“That’s kinda the point here,” you reply, teeth bumping into his in a grin.

Joel shakes his head, lifting his hand, glistening with your arousal. “Gotta feel this fucking pussy first.”

You smile, parting your lips for him for the second time, suckling on his fingers and licking them clean of your own salty slick. His cock draws sticky trails on the seam of your thigh.

“Yeah,” Joel breathes, eyes fixed on the place where you close around him, “that good, baby? You gonna let me taste you?”

You release his fingers and he pulls you in, tongue slipping against yours with a groan which vibrates against your jaw. When your lips part, you hold your mouth open, your tongue sat on your bottom lip.

Joel reacts instantly, collecting a bead of saliva in front of his teeth and letting it drop into your mouth. You moan and swallow it, a cocktail of beer and whiskey and slick. Joel watches as you lick your lips, the stained-pink coated in a thick, white shine.

“Alright,” he says, letting you fall forward onto the bed. He jacks himself a few times, spitting into his hand and using it to coat his cock.

“Want you to come in it,” you whine, wiggling your ass for him as he lines up at your slit. You can feel the arousal gathered on his tip, dripping down your cunt.

“Yeah, baby,” Joel growls, a smirk on his lips as he watches himself slowly disappear inside you. And then –

You both fall silent, mouths hanging wide open as you each feel the width of his cock and the tightness of your cunt. The way your body opens up to accommodate his size, the direct pain and ethereal pleasure of Joel pushing into you.

“Fuck,” he groans, your pussy drawing him in with a sweet, wet sound. “Been thinkin’ about this all fuckin’ day, baby. So damn gorgeous in that dress.”

You slowly move your hips back to meet him at the base of his cock; dark, trimmed hair bristling against your lips. Joel’s hands lock around your waist, holding you steady with his entirety buried inside, letting you adjust to him.

He’s so fucking big, so wide and deep that your breath tears rugged from your lungs, barreling up your windpipe. Your walls squeeze tight as he pulls out like your body refuses to let him go, like your cells understand better than you do that you were made for this – made for him. Like the only place in the world that he belongs, is somewhere deep inside you.

So big that it hurts, each time he fills you up and stretches you wide open. The pain an eye-rolling, lung-closing, limb-shaking sensation.

Your elbows give, falling chest-first onto the mattress while Joel fucks you hard, his hands gripping your hips. Your cheek and breasts flat against the sheets, your back arched. He slams into you, edging you closer and closer with each meeting of his warm skin against yours, each sopping slap of come and saliva.

The mattress shifts above your head, two valleys where his palms push down heavily, then the weight of his body at the back of your thighs. He towers over you, hips hammering so hard that you’re forced to hook your fingers around his wrists just to stay on the same fucking planet.

“Gonna – fuckin’ – come – baby,” he spits, his jaw locked tight. “You want it in this little pussy? You think she can take it all?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, the edges of your words rounded by the silk sheets. “Joel, I – fuck –”

“Yeah, she can,” he agrees, playing with the hair spilling across your shoulders and taking it in a fistful.

The hazy drunken blur begins to turn over in favor of something sharper, something electric pulsing through your veins. Every part of your body alive, everything rising to meet the same high, the same release. You cling onto him, body beginning to melt beneath his.

Joel’s lips press between your shoulder blades. “Don’t fight it, baby, let go. I got you.”

You moan his name in one last pathetic attempt before the world whitens. You clench around him as a deafening orgasm shocks through your body, curling your back and forcing your nails deep into Joel’s wrists.

“Fuck, baby, fuck me,” Joel gasps. He slams into you one final time before you feel the staggered pump of his come flooding between your walls. “Ahh,” he groans, pushing apart your ass cheeks to watch the trickle seep from your cunt. “Good fucking girl. Take it, baby. That’s my girl.”

He turns you over onto your back and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him against your body as he thrusts into you again, tenderly pushing his spend deeper inside. It draws a strained moan from your throat.

“’s alright,” he coos, hips slowing against yours, “just feel it, baby. You feel how deep I am?”

“Uhuh,” you cry, nails digging into his skin, damp with sweat.

“So fuckin’ full of me,” he says, more to himself, before collapsing alongside you, holding your thigh on his hip, his tip still sheathed inside you.

You lie like that for a while, listening to the distant hum of music from downstairs, the party still raving in the belly of the hotel while you two lay in content bliss somewhere in its ribcage. Tracing one another’s features, learning the lines on Joel’s face, the flecks of gray in his eyebrows – all the parts you’re never close nor brave enough to get to know.

His right hand massages your plush waist, his left arm a pillow to rest your heavy, dizzy, drunk head on.

“I wanna do it again,” you whisper, the words sneaking out between heavy breaths.

Joel nods. His bottom lip sticks with sweat to yours. His hips push a little neater into you. “I wanna do it again, too.”

“I wanna do it all night.”

He hasn’t stopped nodding. He shrugs, tightens his grip around your shoulders, and tilts his head. “Then let’s do it all fucking night,” he says, and his lips slam back into yours.

The morning after the wedding, Joel drives you home. The truck soars down the highway, the two of you an uncomfortable distance apart. The same sobering distance you’ve kept all morning – the unreal aftermath of sex.

The rolling waves of bedsheets between your bodies; the sun sifting her long fingers through his hair as she peered through the curtains. The way you’d silently pushed yourself from the mattress, fragmenting your movements and allowing the spring to dip a fraction at a time so not to wake him. The spongey feel of the hotel carpet under the balls of your feet as you’d tottered to the bathroom. The sharp shot of the lock sliding into place, echoing like a bullet.

He waited until you finished showering to get ready himself. Sat on the edge of the bed patiently and watched your shadow beneath the door, the to-and-fro of your silhouette breaking the sliver of golden light as you dressed your sticky body. When you pulled on the metal lock again, he was sat on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees, pinching the bridge of his nose. His bare shoulders were curved, and tanned. You blinked twice to store the image and turned away as he stood.

He says he feels hungover. You say you do, too. It’s the closest you come to talking about it. You hop out of the truck in his drive, your tote bag hooked on your shoulder. The canvas gnawing at the silk inside. Joel tells you he’ll see his end of the deal through in a couple weeks.

“Real busy with work,” he mutters apologetically, his wrists still balancing on the steering wheel.

“That’s good,” you tell him, nodding. “I ain’t in any rush. I know where you live, so.”

A relieved laugh pushes from his lips. “I will get to it,” he assures you.

You shrug casually. “Whenever, Joel.”

You don’t talk for a few days. A few days bleeds into three weeks. You find yourself stood by his front tires, throwing his newspaper onto the porch and scampering when it lands. The noise like a bomb dropping.

Slowly, as the month draws on, you become braver and braver – daring closer and closer to his front door, until you’re back to marching up the steps like you own the place, depositing the roll on his doormat. Rubbing your thumbs against your fingers to feel the ink like satin.

The door cracks open as you make your way back down his steps one bright morning.

“Hey, kid,” Joel murmurs, reaching down for the paper with a groan.

“Hey.”

“You doin’ okay?” he asks, leaning his forearm against the door.

Your head tilts back and forth, your hand lifting to shield your eyes from the sun. “Think I ate som’ bad, maybe. Weird stomach this mornin’.”

Joel’s chin angles. “Hope it ain’t contagious. Was thinkin’ I could get that closet started for you, maybe tomorrow?”

The offer takes you off guard. You buffer for a few seconds before answering, “Sure. Sure, just, uh – just come over whenever, I guess.”

“Nine work for you?”

You nod. “Nine’s good. See ya then.”

It’s something like nine when you find out.

You wake feeling groggy. Tired, sluggish. A heavy ache pulling on your breasts as you rise from bed, tender and swollen. You stand in the bathroom, milky morning light filtering in through the doorway, and your stomach lurches. Waves of nausea deep in your belly, rocking back and forth, swirling and spiraling.

You’ve a box under your sink. It makes sense. Before Joel was some date from Hinge, who fucked you against the wall of his living room and who snored so loud that you left before the sun came up. Negative. Like always.

But it never hurts to be sure.

The pack tears like it’s liquid in your hands. Peels back to reveal the plastic white test, the bubblegum pink cap – like it’s something fun and sweet to place the direction of your future into this little device. A clinical compass needle.

Three to five minutes. You set it down on the counter and drag yourself back through to your room, lifting your bedsheets, tucking them under the mattress, heaving your pillows back into place against the headboard. An uncomfortable heat boiling under the surface of your skin, a prickle of sweat clinging to the nape of your neck.

A sickly taste harboring on your tongue, you pad back to the bathroom and swipe the test up. Your eyes scan past the result window to the counter as you reach for your toothbrush – and then snap abruptly back to the tiny oval. Your outstretched hand freezes in midair. There’s no fucking w–

Your arm swings back to reach for the light cord. The bulb hesitates – flickers, like it’s unsure whether to reveal the truth to you. It knows something you don’t. It’s seen something it doesn’t want to show you. You stare at the pregnancy test.

Two little pink lines stare back. And Joel knocks at your door.

#forgive me for it not being clm or sof #they're coming very soon i promise #this was too fun an idea not to chase #i have the attention span of my labrador retrievers (nil)#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #macfrog #neighbor!joel miller #neighbor!joel #babydaddy!joel miller

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dollwrites · 1 year ago

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𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭 — 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, facefucking, deepthroat, it gets sloppy, toji’s mean, degradation, noncon, failed tap outs, suggested age gap, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶��𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ i caved and finally wrote my first toji fic i know i’ve been teasing for a while. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

“What are you crying for, huh?” Toji’s vice on your hair was a tight fist, creating a makeshift ponytail so he could see your tears on your face. “You wanted to learn, didn’t you, girlie?” you could hear the amusement in his voice. the arrogance of knowing he was too much for you. too big. too rough. but uncaring. “Now you’re gonna boo-hoo about it?”

the best you could manage was a gargling whimper, your lips stretched wide around the thickness of his mighty cock. if your eyes crossed, you could see the shine from your spit and lipgloss smeared along the surface of his skin, giving each rigid vein a highlight. if you watched his inches disappear into your mouth, you got dizzy. the way he dribbled your head on his groin had your head spinning. back and forth, up and down, hard and fast.

“Just take it and stop whining so much, little bitch.”

Toji Fushiguro didn’t do soft and sweet.

you knew that, but you’d hoped he’d take a little more care than this.

you could feel the bones in his knuckles bat against the back of your head when he pushed you down hard, forcing the majority of him into your mouth, the girthy, reddened head threatening to push its way right down your throat, and when he yanked on your hair to pull you back, your scalp stung. you couldn’t help but whine and choke— he wasn’t giving you any choice. you’d forgotten how to stay calm and breathe through your nose, and instead twitched and squirmed.

“Fucking hell,” he grunted, and took a moment to exert his power on you, pushing you down until you kissed his broad base, the musky coarse hair tickling your nostrils and scraping against your plushy cheeks, “can’t even take a cock without being a drama queen. Stop moving around so damn much, let me get in that tight, little throat.” he held you there, trying to force his way in, but you couldn’t stop yourself from freaking out the second you felt him start to invade. bunching your shoulders, you push yourself up from where you were sitting on your calf muscles, both hands fleeing to pat and shove at his muscular thighs in a gagging attempt to tell him to stop. you felt the need to retch, and the sensation of having your air supply limited so drastically so quickly, and every alarm in your head went off to get off of him.

“What?” he barked, breathing ragged. “Want me to stop already? Can’t take it?”

you nod and Toji laughs.

“That’s too damn bad.”

for as much as you fought, Toji was stronger, and with a frustrated snarl, he grabbed your head with both hands, instead. gripping either side, he walked you backwards, mouth full of cock, until he pushed the back of your head against the opposing wall. his stance wide, heavy feet planted against either of your legs, he pinned your back to the wall. “Gettin’ real tired of your crybaby ass. Gonna have to teach you my way.”

his way was cruel, and you came to understand that as he jackhammered into your drooling, squealing mouth at a brutal pace, his heavy balls smacking against your chin. you can feel how the skin wants to stick to the gluey saliva dribbling from your sore mouth. your nails bite at his thighs, leaving angry, red scores, but he doesn’t ease up. he refuses to let you breath for even a moment, his large, hot palms clamped over your ears.

it was only after he’d battered the back of your throat and started to slip inside with each, merciless thrust, that you started to cluck, loud and helpless, squinting your eyes. even through the blur of your tears and the wincing, you could still make out his incredibly imposing, powerful figure casting a formidable shadow over you as he power fucked your throat.

maybe it was the subtle yet consistent bumping of your head against the wall, or the overwhelming scent and taste of his arousal enveloping you, overloading your senses, but you started to realize you weren’t struggling nearly as much. your hands, that had been desperate to claw your way to freedom, had ceased, your wrists going limp, as you slumped back against the wall to simply take him until he was done.

“That’s it, those are the sounds I like to hear, that feels fucking good,” he moans, baring his teeth. “Not much fight left in you now, is there? Still want me to be nice, still wanna stop?” for a moment, and much to your surprise, Toji withdrew his cock, allowing it to pop free from your abused, swollen lips. air flooded your lungs and you croaked on it, pushing globs of spit and precum out of the well to drip down your chin and stain your chest. your eyes widen, and you suck in every gulp of oxygen that you could, but you didn’t want to move, just in case he slammed your head into the wall again. weakly, uncertainly, your glassy eyes flicker up to the older man, and you give a defeated shake of your head. “That’s what I thought. You’re getting the hang of it.” he chuckled, hoarsely, running his calloused fingertips over your sticky, messy cheek before giving you a few, solid slaps of encouragement. or, perhaps, praise. you couldn’t tell. you didn’t care. you mewl and try to shy away from it, but he grasps your face hard in one hand and drags you back to look at him. “Now, sit pretty and be a good throat whore. This time, I’m not stopping until I shoot a load into your belly.”

#toji fushiguro #toji fic #toji x reader #toji x you #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

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samodivaa · 9 months ago

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Bucky with an oral fixation due to his anxiety so you let him suck your big tits (smut)

Bucky’s heart may fail him in so many horrors—both in waking, from his nerves, and in sleep, from his nightmares, because the punishment of his disordered mind is its own disorder. A disorder nobody else has. There is no cure, but he is trying to master it, he is learning to live with it—just as he has learned to live with other storms of his mind. The impossibility of love? He has you now. The past can't be annihilated, it is a part of him. Regret, denial, sadness—it leads to anxiety and his habit of always chewing on something—gum, sweets. He holds his breath, a desperate attempt to slow down his heartbeat, a desperate attempt to get away. One second. Two seconds. The moment he chews on the pencil you gifted him for that purpose, he is feeling better. No amount of him trying to explain himself is doing any good, he doesn’t even know what is going on inside of him—but your observation is the first step of the inner unfolding, of finding a solution to every problem he has. You create so much love, compassion, equanimity and joy in his mind that he doesn’t feel ashamed or judged. But seeing him biting down on that pencil—once you've seen how broken he is, it's like seeing him naked. How can you help now? “Bucky, why don't you suck on my tits instead?”

His gaze, though almost improper, is the most sensual thing he could have done at the moment, and it jolts your heart into a strange rhythm, leaving you unable to speak. There is lust and then there is love. They are related, but still very different things—you surge forward, crossing the final, tiny gap and pressing your lips to his. It is desperate and frantic, but the feel of his mouth against yours sends a bolt of electricity straight down your spine. Bucky grips your waist and lifts you off the ground with ease, dropping you softly on the luxurious white linen bed. He gets on top and the gentle, erotic pressure of his mouth on yours, the compelling pleasure of his kiss—the world stops and all the silence, but for your hearts, trying to synchronize your crashing. It is all the thrill of these kisses, of your new naughty suggestion. It is the impatience of the way he tears your shirt from your body, that really turns you on—lust getting the better of him, Bucky is a gentle lover, but not today which makes a jolt of some foreign but not unwelcome sensation pierce you. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear as he mutters out: “I already love that idea, baby”

You let out an involuntary airy moan as he grabs them in his palms, his huge hands palming your tits, kneading gently at first before he rubs his palms in circles. He rolls one nipple between his fingers, humming in satisfaction as it hardens under his touch before he begins to suck on it while massaging your other tit. He's drooling, swirling his tongue over it before biting gently the nipple and he is thankful that your head is thrown back so you don't look how desperate he is. How fucked up he is. He fully embraces the deliciousness of this sin, the calmness that it brings to his mind and all you want to drown his worries. You want him to do something totally unlike himself and it is working—but this lust is something close to anguish, because he needs to stop eventually and he doesn't want to. He leans back a bit, searching for your eyes as he struggles to breathe, focusing on his lungs, on his ability to take deep breaths, to soothe with oxygen—the vast ocean of blue that is his eyes, remarkably focused and soft at the same time. “I love it, I love how big they are” he says thickly and completely without shame. He bites down on the curve of your breast, breathing softly on top of the skin “Can’t stop,” he says, the words coming out like a caress. He says it again, over and over. A litany. As your clothed cunt contracts at the friction against his pelvis, his words, you can feel him, hips bucking slowly up into you. He latches his mouth directly on your other nipple, making you cry out as he envelops a part of your breast into his mouth, a hand coming up to play with the other one. “Bucky—enough” Your hands go to his hair as he sucks sharply on the breast, but you can’t pull him away. You can’t help the whimpers that escape you, the long drawn out sobs that punch out of your throat whenever he bites a little harder, giving your other nipple a harsher tug as a punishment every time you try to push him back. Sucking removes any daily existence from his mind, any anxiety, grounding Bucky firmly in the moment and dragging your body with it. Until he had enough. What a beautiful madness, he never felt so relaxed.

#lord have mercy #drabble #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky x reader

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gatorbites-imagines · 3 months ago

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Listen. Listen. Hear me out.

I beg you, almighty gator—Gambit(Remy LeBeau) x M/FTM reader(ur choice i like both :)) where reader is a mutant that has some kind of power that has to do with sea monsters, and loves tarot cards so Remy does card tricks for him while reader is in a pool.

When I was a kid I called Gambit “Magic Man” and I had to hold myself back from screaming that in the theater when I was watching D&W a few days ago and revived my non-understandable fanboying of him. (Sorry for the rant)

You can change the fic anyway you want, I’ve got no problem as long as Remy is as silly as he normally is(can evolve into smut or whatever cause I’m freaky like that 😏)

Gracias Gator!!

Remy Lebeau x mutant male reader

Headcanons

I love Remy SO much its insane. I can’t write accents, so it’s there in spirit. Haven’t read the comics, so im basing this off of is wiki. no smut but i had fun writing this.

i loved seeing Remy in the movie, i just wish theyd given him his eyes, you know?

How you two met can be a mixed bag. Maybe you met in the x-men, maybe you met in the thieves guild before every crossing paths with the x-men as a whole, or maybe somewhere completely third. I enjoy the idea of the thieves guild though, so ill go with that.

You both had different reasons for joining or doing what you do, but being two mutants amongst a lot of other non-mutants meant you felt some kind of kinship with each other, even if you didn’t really get along in the beginning.

Especially with you two being visibly mutants. With Remy’s eyes and you having scales on different areas of your body, gills on your sides, what others would refer to as “monster eyes”, so on and so forth.

This resulted in you two preferring to work together when you got the chance, you trained together, ate together, slept together (not like that), so on and so forth. It also meant you two got a very deep understanding of each other over time.

It also meant that Remy got to see just how stupidly powerful you were. In the beginning you just thought your powers involved controlling water and being able to breath underwater. Who’d have thought you could do crazy stuff like controlling typhoons, rain, lightning, so on and so forth, like some kind of biblical being.

This was how you gained the name leviathan. You didn’t really like the name in the beginning, since you hadn’t really picked it yourself and it felt almost insulting with your appearance. But Remy was so supportive you ended up coming to like it, even though it took a long time.

In the end you two split apart as you leave the guild, going your separate ways but still keeping in contact in small but safe ways. With a power like yours it was hard to stay under the radar, and many wanted you on their side, even if it meant by force.

Time passes, Remy joins the x-men, you travel on your own and discover yourself and the world. Remy gets kicked out of the x-men when they learn of his past, you two meet up again and travel together for a while.

Its during this gap in Remy’s place with the x-men that your relationship became something more. He tells you about Rogue, and how he at first thought he loved her, only to realize what he felt for her wasn’t near as strong as what he felt for you.

And of course, during this confession, Remy tries to lay on the charm and act like it isn’t a big deal, but you can easily see through him and notice how anxious he is about it. in the end you just have to grab him and kiss him to shut him up, which yes, does shut him up, but also leads to you guys falling back into the water you’d been sitting by when he lunges at you to kiss you again.

Hes a charming guy yes, Remy has such a way with his words, how he carries himself or how he touches you. But underneath all that he also cares so deeply, to the point of being willing to die for you or those he cares about, which makes you lose scales from stress at times.

So, if you place protection spells on him that you got from the deepest part of the sea by the people who have started to worship you like a god, then only you have to know. That Namor guy is pretty swell, when he isn’t being a bit arrogant. He even taught you how to use a spear, so you guys are kinda brothers in spirit now.

At some point Remy does return to the x-men, somewhere you don’t feel ready to join him yet. So, a lot of kisses are shared, and a few tears a shed. And yes, of course you give him jewelry made from your scales. And a dagger made out of your larger teeth when you transform into a more serpentine form, because yes, you can also do that.

Remy doesn’t feel much need to tell the x-men about his relationship. Sure, he keeps flirting but that’s just because that’s how he is. But it never goes further than that. Some of the members that can read minds know about it though, since he thinks about you regularly.

In the end the relationship is exposed when the x-men find themselves in quite the pickle near the ocean. And Remy, knowing he can get them the upper hand, is able to snap one of the sigils you placed on him.

Rip to whoever they were fighting, since the sea lashes out and swallows them whole, followers by a giant feral looking sea serpent, you, rise from the water. Yes, you teleported there. What else were you supposed to do? You thought your boy was in danger!

Cue the x-men just being stunned or confused when Remy calls out the cheesiest pet names, almost kicking his feet in happiness at seeing you. It makes a bit more sense when you transform into a more human form, it still takes some explaining though.

In the end you don’t end up fully joining the x-men. You doing that would place them under a lot more danger than usual, since you had your own enemies and alliances, and you’re pretty sure Namor would get butthurt if you did. But you become something of an ally. Which means you hang out on Krakoa on the regular.

It becomes a very regular sight to see a giant serpent lazily swimming around the island, or resting half on the beach as Remy sits and shows you his different tarot readings. Of course, you also spend time together with you in a more human form, but seeing such a big sea monster also makes any baddies keep a distance.

There are also of course pools set up on the island, not just for you, but they’re accessible for you as well. Remy is regularly seen in the pool with you, or just sitting with his feet in as you two talk or whatever else you guys do.

You end up becoming something of a swim instructor to the youngest mutants, or just those that can’t swim in general. This is something Remy finds extremely entertaining and he’s always teasing you about it. luckily its easy to shut him up with a kiss, or by knocking him into the pool. Or both. He doesn’t mind.

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beenbaanbuun · 2 months ago

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Hai there! :3

Hope youre having a lovely day/night! I wanted to say I love your works!

I’ve been following your opposites attract universe and I have to say I love it so so sooooo much!! Its just so sweet and beautifully written! Addams! matz is now my roman empire.

I have a question though after reading the fight and the apology parts of the story, since hongjoong basically NEVER yells but did in fact yell at darling, do you think darling for a good period of time would be a bit distant from joong? Like she’s knows she’s forgiven but would she be too scared to make a similar mistake? Cause if it were me where I was able to make someone who never gets mad, mad. I would know I FUCKED up big time and I’d be so nervous to be around them 😭

If Darling does somewhat become a bit distant how would Hongjoong react to that too? Like would guilt practically eat him alive? 😭

Thats all! Thank you again for your works I love reading them!! 💕

i was going to reply to this like it was just a simple question but i must write………..

not proofread yet

as you stand outside hongjoong’s office, you can’t help but feel your heart beating a mile a minute. it’s silly, you know that, and yet you can’t help but hesitate. he’s on the other side of that door, after all, and try as you might, you simply cannot let things go back to normal. it’s only been a few days, yet you haven’t crossed the threshold into that room even once. you’ve barely even spoken to hongjoong, in fact. apart from mealtimes and night when he cannot go without you in his arms, you opt to stay far out of his way. it’s not that you want to, but instead you feel like you have to.

it’s for your own peace of mind.

except this time you can’t. this time, you’re under strict instructions from seonghwa to fetch hongjoong for dinner. he knows what he’s doing, the corners of his mouth tilting up in an annoying smile after you tried to come up with some excuse as to why you had to avoid hongjoong. clearly none of them worked since here you are.

you knock, three light taps against his door so as not to irritate him too much. he’s working, after all, and you know better than to get in his way while he’s working. “come in, dove,” he calls, surprising you as he refers to you by name; how could he tell from a knock alone?

the brass doorknob is cold as you push the door open tentatively, your feet remaining firmly at the threshold. it’s a surprise to see him turned away from the desk, eyes already upon you before you even fully reveal yourself. there’s a smile on his face, soft and delicate as though he’s gazing upon something beautiful. he’s gazing upon you, but standing before him with your bottom lip tucked neatly between your lips and your thumbs picking at one another, it’s hard to feel like you’re anything but worrisome.

a hand rests upon his lap, fingers drumming lightly upon the thick black fabric of his slacks. the seat he flaunts looks oh-so-tempting, but you refrain from taking it. from closing the gap and shoving your face in his neck like you’ve been craving to these past few days. he always smells so nice; warm spices and home.

“how could you tell it was me?” you ask as you shuffle from foot to foot in his doorway. his smile grows wide as he studies you.

“seonghwa enters immediately after knocking, yeosang wouldn’t be visiting me, and you,” he pats his lap twice, your favourite seat becoming just that more tempting. still, you somehow manage to hold yourself back, “well, you never knock but since you’ve been avoiding me—”

“i have not!” you squark, eyes going wide and feet finally carrying you forward into the lions den. your hand slips from the door it had been holding open, and the slam of it shutting lets you know that you are in fact trapped. there’s no escape from hongjoong now without it being plainly obvious that you are in fact avoiding him, although that seems to be a fact he’s already grown wise to.

hongjoong seems to be aware of that fact too, as the moment the door encloses the both of you in the confines of his office, he taps his lap yet again. this time, you almost break.

“you see, if you weren’t avoiding me, you’d already be in my lap,” he tuts at you, relaxing himself in his chair and letting his legs spread. as sweet as the spot on his lap looks, you must admit that the one between his thighs is equally as enticing. you could sit there for hours just staring up at him in wonder.

you take yet another step into the room, more than happy to deny yourself the pleasure of his lap, less happy to remain so far away from him. you might be avoiding him, but you can’t deny yourself the simple pleasure of seeing his pretty face up close. the sly smile he wears when he teases you is admittedly beautiful, even if it does annoy you to no end.

“maybe i just don’t want to sit in your lap right now,” you argue, to which he responds with a scoff. rightfully so; if you’re going to lie you should at least try and make it believable. “or maybe i just don’t want to get in trouble with seonghwa by making us late for dinner.”

another chuckle, although you suppose this one is even more deserved than the first. you’ve never had a problem flaunting seonghwa’s orders and rules before, so why start now? defeated, you give him a deep sigh.

“come here, dove,” he says through his amusement, adoration laced through every word he speaks. you take another few steps closer, although not as close as it seems he desires you to be.

hands wrap themselves around your hips, tugging lightly at your body until your stumbling forwards into hongjoong’s grasp. they move around your body quicker than you can squirm free of them, pulling and pushing at your limbs until you’re arranged exactly how he wants you, straddling his lap with your hands resting tentatively upon his shoulders. it takes just a few seconds for his arms to snake themselves around your waist, locking you in place.

his head is tilted in such a way that he can appreciate the sheepish look you wear. the way your eyes look anywhere but his own, and the way your jaw ticks in something akin to agitation, although hongjoong knows you far too well to assume that that really is the case. if you were agitated, your pretty lips wouldn’t be pressed into a pout, they’d be forming cute little insults that hongjoong would have to try his hardest not to find sweet. if you really were agitated, hongjoong would know better than to tighten his grip until you have no choice but to lay with your torso flat against his.

you don’t even resist when he traces a finger up your spine to the nape of your neck. it tangles itself with the strands of hair that twist around another, soothingly tugging on them. it doesn’t take much more than that for you to finally relax against his frame, sinking into the warmth his body offers you.

“i wasn’t avoiding you,” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.

“liar,” he murmurs back.

“i wasn’t!” you insist, “i just… i didn’t know what to do around you. you never yell but—”

“i did.”

you hum in agreement, “you did.”

hongjoong’s arms get tighter around you as though he’s afraid you might slip away unless he holds on tight. you don’t mind; the pressure is honestly quite nice. it helps melt your inhibitions, your fear of telling hongjoong exactly how you feel. you shouldn’t be scared when it’s quite obvious how much the man adores you.

“it felt like something changed between us,” it doesn’t feel so hard to admit that when you’re in his arms, “i didn’t want to do anything that might change it even more.”

you’re met with a few seconds of silence; it’s hard to discern whether it’s comforting or anxiety inducing, yet you’re more than happy to sit in it. if hongjoong needs to take a breather before responding then you’re happy for him to do that. you’d much rather sit uncomfortably for a few seconds than have him raise his voice at you again.

although something inside of you tells you that it’s unlikely for that to happen again.

“you’re silly, dove,” he finally responds, forever taking place in just those few seconds. “the only thing that changes between us is how much i adore you, and that continues to grow and grow each time i see your face.”

“it can’t have grown much these last few days then,” you comment, “you’ve barely seen me…”

“oh, but i have,” he says it as if it’s obvious, “i see you every time i close my eyes. whenever i blink, you’re there, saying something cheeky to seonghwa that you know will get you into just the right amount of trouble to get you what you want,” he brings you closer still, his grip so tight that you’re certain your ribs might crack under the pressure, “so yes, darling, my love for you has grown exponentially these past few days.”

you can’t help but let yourself smile, tucking yourself into that sweet spot between his chin and his shoulder to hide it. he smells so good, just like he always he does, and you pull a deep breath in through your nose. cinnamon and home fills your senses and you realise that no matter how hard you try, you can’t stay away from hongjoong for long.

he’s just as much your home as seonghwa is.

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #opposites attract universe #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 2 months ago

Text

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 11

As soon as Alex and her family are safely in a car on the way to a hotel, Kara and Lena board Lena's jet back to the states. During the flight, Lena curls in on herself, picking nervously at her cuticles with a worried, guilty expression.

"Hey," Kara says, pulling Lena's gaze towards her. Her features remain heavy. "I'm not mad."

At that, Lena's face softens, but only enough to grimace with a soft huff. "You're not the one I'm worried about."

Kara must look confused, because Lena soon continues.

"As a rule, my mother knows who I spend my time with, and when." The guilt returns. "Except for you."

"So she didn't know I was in Capri with you..."

Lena confirms it with a shake of her head. "Nor why I went back to National City."

Well... this wouldn't be easy then. Dealing with a rabid press is one thing-- being at odds with one of the key players in keeping her family safe is another.

"I'm sorry," Lena murmurs. "I just... wanted to keep you mine. Just for a little while."

Kara shoots her a look. "I'm still not mad."

"You can be. If you want."

"I don't." She moves seats, switching to the bench Lena's on. She makes no attempt to still Lena's nervous picking, but simply spreads her legs enough for the outsides of their thighs to touch. Kara intends the physical contact to serve as reassurance, but she doesn't know if it works.

"I'm a big girl, Lena. I know I can back out whenever I want to. But I don't. Not yet."

A little bit of warmth cuts through Lena's anxious fog. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Kara's heart beats a little faster, when a small smile answers her. Impulsively, she leans over to kiss Lena's cheek. She feels... giddy? Far more exhilirated she has any right to feel at her age. "Bring it."

----

Lillian Luthor is a slender, austere woman. Kara clocks her the moment the plane lands on the tarmac, tall and styled in her designer clothes and looks that only money and astronomically good genes could provide.

Only Kara witnesses the short beat Lena takes before stepping out of the plane, bracing herself for whatever follows. Kara keeps pace with her once they descend the ladder in single file. She may not be driving this bus, but she is no shrinking flower. In this, she is Lena's equal.

Not that the look Lillian gives her would have anyone believe.

"In the car," the woman orders. "Now."

Lena obeys without a word. Kara is a little slower to fall in line, but ultimately follows Lena's lead. Lillian climbs in behind them, leaving Jess and a woman Kara doesn't recognize to scramble on board last.

"The family is checked into the Lariat. So far no indication that they've been identified, but its still early."

"What about Kara?"

"What about you??" Lillian demands, tone scathing in its heat. "What were you thinking?"

Kara sees Lena wilt, and anger bubbles up in her throat. "Don't talk to her like that--"

"You have zero business here," Lillian fires back with steel in her voice.

"Mom!" Lena exclaims in Kara's defense. "It's not that big a deal--"

Ice blue eyes turn on Lena, freezing her to the spot. "It's a big enough deal that you saw fit to sneak behind my back, with a woman twice your age no less--"

"Mom!"

"Timeline, now."

Lena's shoulders sag, but says nothing. Looking to divert some of Lillian's ire, Kara moves to speak up. "We--"

"She already knows," Lena rolls her eyes.

"I do," her mother confirms. "But I'll hear it from you nonetheless."

Lena huffs. "Night two of the National City stop. Her niece left her phone backstage, and we exhanged numbers."

"Then?"

"Texting."

The exhange sounds like a repeat of one they've had many times before. Neither Jess nor the other woman-- who Kara assumes is Lillian's own assistant-- look at all nervous at the rapidfire crossing of words.

"Texting?" Lillian demands. "Or sexting?"

Kara bristles. "I don't see how that's any of your--"

"*Texting*, Mom, god!" Lena seethes. Her cheeks are bright red, from anger or embarassment or both. "Will you just--"

"Just *what* Lena?"

Lillian's voice is so sharp Kara can see the moment it cuts Lena down. Her jaw tightens, and when Kara sublty shifts to take her hand, Lena shifts away.

Satisfied that her daughter is suitably in line, Lillian turns to her assistant. "Mercy, have PR prepare a statement. The photos were misconstrued, they simply capture a couple of friends taking in the sights."

"Mom, no," Lena croaks. "I don't want-- who cares if people know that I'm gay--?"

"You are not gay!"

Lena flinches, features blanching as though Lillian had landed a physical blow. Only then does Lillian seem to realize that she's talking to an actual person. Her tone doesn't soften, exactly, but it doesn't sharpen any further.

"Your *brand* isn't," she amends, likely the closest thing to thing to an apology Lena would get.

"I thought Lena is the brand," Kara interjects.

Lillian's frigid gaze snaps to her. "She is."

"Her fans are more open-minded than you think--"

"Her fans don't buy tickets," Lillian informs her coolly. "Their parents do. And *they* are far less forgiving."

Kara looks towards Lena, who meets her gaze with a helpless one of her own. It's not untrue-- Esme hadn't bought her tickets, after all.

"Then what do we do?" Kara allows finally.

"Cut ties. Immediately." Lillian looks down her nose at Kara, her regard as condescending as though she were speaking to a teenager, not a women merely ten years her junior.

"No."

To Kara's surprise, Lena's response is faster than her own, and carries only the barest of trembles.

"Don't be foolish..."

"I'm not--"

"Do you love her?"

Lena freezes. Her gaze flicks to Kara. "It's only been a few weeks..."

"Precisely. Cut ties now, before--"

"But I want to," Lena finishes. This time, her gaze lingers on Kara's, a small smile warming her eyes. "I want to love her."

Lillian scoffs low in her throat. "You're too old to be play the love sick teenager. Or have you forgotten what happened last time?"

Kara watches Lena hold her mother's gaze, something heavy passing between them, inscrutable to anyone else. But Lena holds her ground, and surprisingly, Lillian is the one to back down.

"Then what would you suggest?"

"Like you said-- we give them something else to talk about." Lena swallows, but forges ahead. "I have some new material, I can perform it live in Paris."

Lillian purses her lips, but doesn't smack down the idea. She considers it, her gaze calculating. "And you two?"

"We do what we want," Lena delivers firmly. "No statement, no confirmation or denial. Let people see interpret it however they want. However they need."

Kara thinks of the young fans, isolated in their orientations or identities, seeing themselves reflected in their favorite artist. The gift that would be, the vote of confidence needed to dream of a future where what Lena and Kara share might be theirs.

Lillian shoots Kara a hard glare. "And you? It's your family in the crossfire if this idea goes to shit."

"Then it goes to shit, and we deal with it."

It might be selfish of her, but in all of their conversations, neither Alex or Kelly have suggested backing off. They spoke only of adapting, of overcoming, and Kara knows she has their unspoken support. And even now, being talked down to and chided, she feels happier sitting next to Lena in this moment than she has in years.

Lillian barely contains her snort of derision.

"Very well," she concedes, with a sharp note of criticism. Then she turns from them entirely to speak with Mercy in low tones.

Kara takes advantage of the moment to lean closer to Lena, murmuring in her ear.

"I want to go to Paris with you."

Lena blinks at her. "You don't have to--"

"Would you feel better if I were there?" Kara asks bluntly. Lena deflates a little, but this time in relief rather than shame.

"Yeah."

"Then let me come." Kara gives Lena's hand a squeeze, and is rewarded with a tired smile. "You're not alone in this."

"Okay," Lena says, her smile deepening into a challenge. "Let's bring it."

#supercorp #musician age gap au #fallout pt 2 #a couple of you guessed who we're gonna meet #and you were right!#you guys could write this stuff

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hoe4hotchner · 1 month ago

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What He Left Behind | [E.P]

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x gn!reader CW: abandoment issues, daddy issues, big emotions, smoking, r is a little rude to em, angst but with comfort in the end. WC: 2.4k

This is still very Hotch centric, it wouldn't be me if it wasn't ;)

The air in the BAU headquarters was thick with tension, the recent ordeal with Mr. Scratch still casting a large cloud over the team. Every desk seemed untouched, paperwork scattered but stagnant, as if the entire office had been holding its breath since the case closed. The familiar hum of conversation was reduced to murmurs, eyes glancing over at one another, silently acknowledging the looming unease.

Rossi had summoned everyone into the conference room with a somber expression that spoke volumes to all of you. You knew something was about to happen. Everyone did. After everything you’d all endured, there was an unspoken dread in the air, the kind of weight that settled deep in your bones. You weren’t sure you had the energy for whatever news was coming, but there was no avoiding it.

You sank into your usual seat at the table, the exhaustion wrapping around you like a heavy blanket. Spencer slid into the seat next to you, his fingers twitching restlessly, tapping an uneven rhythm on the smooth surface. Derek leaned back, his arms crossed, jaw set in anticipation, while JJ sat directly across from you, her brows drawn together in quiet worry. And then there was Emily, standing at the head of the table, her posture rigid, though her eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place - concern, maybe, or apprehension.

The sound of Rossi entering the room broke the stillness. He moved deliberately, placing a thick, worn file onto the table with a thud that echoed like the ticking of a clock. His eyes traveled around the room, pausing briefly on each of you as if preparing for the blow he was about to deliver.

"Hotch isn’t coming back," Rossi began, his voice was low but unwavering, each word landing like a hammer. "He’s decided to stay out of the field for good. His priority is Jack now, he wants to keep his family safe."

The impact of his words hit you square in the chest, knocking the wind out of you. The room shifted almost imperceptibly, the tension coiling tighter in your stomach. You stopped paying attention to the words coming from Rossi's mouth, only noticing the movement of his mouth. You had known this was coming - felt it in your gut for weeks now - but hearing it spoken aloud made it real in a way that cut deeper than you were ready for. Hotch had been the anchor of the team, the steady hand guiding everyone through the storm. And now… now he was gone. A gap that couldn’t be filled.

"As a result," Rossi continued, turning his gaze toward Emily, "Prentiss will be taking over as Unit Chief, effective immediately."

There was no surprise in Emily’s eyes - she had clearly anticipated this moment, if not known about it longer than the rest of the team - but you could see the weight of the responsibility settling over her like a mantle. She nodded slightly, stepping forward. "Thank you, Rossi. I know this is a huge change for all of us, but I’ll do everything in my power to lead this team as great as Hotch did."

Her voice was steady, the right kind of confidence to reassure the team, but the finality of it all made your heart sink. The person you had always relied on, the father figure who had been there through your darkest moments, wasn’t coming back. And that realization… it stung more than you’d expected.

You felt your chest tighten, the weight of the news pressing down harder. The walls of the room seemed to inch closer, and the air felt suffocating. You needed to escape, even if just for a moment.

Emily’s eyes found yours from across the room, her gaze softening as she noticed the change in your expression. She opened her mouth as if to say something, a question, or maybe a word of comfort, but you couldn’t bear to hear it.

"I - I’m sorry," you muttered under your breath, standing abruptly. "I just… need a minute."

Before anyone could respond, you were already out of your seat, your legs carrying you toward the door in a rush. You could feel Emily’s eyes on your back as you hurried out, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you leaving the room in a stunned silence.

The cold, biting wind greeted you as you pushed open the door to the roof of the FBI Academy building. It wasn’t the first place you would usually go to clear your head, but tonight it felt like the only place to escape. The sounds of the world below - the bustle of cars, distant conversations, the faint hum of life - seemed far away, drowned out by the heavy silence in your chest. You reached into your pocket and pulled out a nearly forgotten pack of cigarettes, the cellophane crinkling under your fingers. You weren’t a smoker - never had been - but the weight of the job sometimes craved for you to search for something dopamine inducing. The weight of this day, of Hotch's absence, had pushed you to search for some sort of release.

With shaky hands, you flicked the lighter, the flame catching after a few attempts. The soft click of the lighter closing was swallowed by the wind as you brought the cigarette to your lips. The bitterness of the smoke filled your lungs, foreign and sharp, but the burn was grounding. You exhaled slowly, watching the thin line of smoke drift into the dark sky, curling and twisting as if it could carry your pain away.

But the ache in your chest remained, deepening with every thought of him. Hotch wasn’t coming back. No matter how many times you'd heard the echo of Rossi's voice replaying in your head, the words echoed like a cruel reminder of what you had lost. He was safe and alive, but that knowledge didn’t stop the hollow feeling gnawing at you. He had been more than a boss to you - he was the father you'd never had, guiding you through the chaos of the job, offering stability when everything else was falling apart. You trusted him, relied on him, and now he had chosen not to return.

The cigarette trembled between your fingers as memories of him flooded your mind. The quiet, reassuring conversations, his steady presence in the bullpen, the way he always seemed to know when you needed guidance or a hug without asking for it. You had counted on him, believed he would always be there. But now… now it felt like he had left you behind, and it hurt in a way you hadn’t expected.

You took another slow drag, the bitter smoke swirling in your lungs as the hurt twisted deeper. The sense of abandonment stung, cutting through your composure, leaving you raw and exposed. You had always told yourself that you could handle anything, that you were strong enough to face the toughest moments. But this - being left behind by the person you trusted the most - felt like too much. Too final.

Your gaze drifted over the dark cityscape, the lights of Washington D.C. blinking somewhere in the distance like stars that felt too far out of reach. The cigarette burned low between your fingers, the warmth of it a sharp contrast to the cold, but even that small comfort felt fleeting. You stared at the wisps of smoke rising into the air, wishing, just for a moment, that it could take your pain with it, leaving you free from the weight pressing down on your heart.

The door to the rooftop swung open with a loud creak, cutting through the air, and you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The sharp, deliberate clack of Emily's boots echoed across the concrete, each step heavier than the last as she approached you. The cool breeze ruffled your hair, carrying with it the faint scent of the nearby trees, but even that couldn’t distract you from the inevitable confrontation coming your way.

You inhaled deeply, pulling another drag from the cigarette between your fingers. The taste filled your lungs yet again, mixing with the dull ache of betrayal still biting at your heart. You exhaled slowly, watching the smoke swirl and dissolve into the sky as you stared blankly at the horizon.

"Found you," Emily’s voice was softer than usual, the concern behind it undeniable, yet there was a slight grin to her tone as she tried to lighten the mood. Her steps slowed as she reached your side, the gentle rustle of her coat barely audible over the wind. She tucked her hands into her pockets, her posture relaxed but her gaze heavy on you. "You shouldn’t be up here alone."

"I’m fine," you replied, your voice clipped and distant. The words were more out of habit than truth. You dropped the cigarette to the ground, grinding it beneath your heel with a sharp twist. The tension between you was palpable, but you refused to acknowledge it. Not now. Not with her.

Emily lingered for a moment, her eyes searching your face, trying to read the emotions you were so carefully keeping hidden. "No, you’re not. I saw how you reacted in there. You don’t have to pretend, not with me."

A wave of frustration surged through you at her persistence, but you kept your gaze forward, refusing to meet her eyes. "I’m not pretending, Prentiss." the sound of her name laced with venom.

The use of her last name caused her to pause, and you could feel her shifting slightly beside you. She wasn’t buying it, but she also wasn’t going to let you off the hook that easily. "You’re upset about Hotch."

Her words struck a nerve, one you’d been trying desperately to ignore. You turned away from her, clenching your fists as the weight of everything you’d been avoiding pressed down on you. "Don't you dare profile me! Of course, I’m upset. We all are. But it doesn’t change anything."

"That’s not what I mean, and you know it," Emily said, stepping into your line of sight. She didn’t raise her voice, but the quiet firmness of her tone left no room for evasion. "This is different for you. He was more than just your unit chief."

You swallowed hard, your jaw tightening as the familiar sting of hurt rose in your throat. "I don’t want to talk about it," you snapped, more harshly than you intended. The words hung in the air between you, sharp and defensive. You took a step back, putting distance between the two of you, your heart pounding in your chest. The pressure inside you was building, emotions you’d been holding down threatening to spill over.

But Emily didn’t back down. She stood firm, her eyes never leaving yours. "You feel abandoned. Like he’s left you behind."

"Emily, stop it!" The raw truth in her words shattered what little control you had left. A surge of anger bubbled up inside you, breaking through the cracks of your carefully constructed facade. "Of course, I feel abandoned!" you shouted, your voice trembling with emotion. "He was like… he was like a father to me, Emily. He helped me when no one else did, and now he’s just… gone!"

You could feel your voice rising, emotions swirling uncontrollably. Your hands shook as you continued, the dam finally breaking. "He’s out there, living his life with Jack, safe and happy, and I get it - I do. But what about us? What about the team? What about me?"

The tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them, blurring the world around you. You swallowed hard, trying to push the lump in your throat back down, but the words kept coming, spilling out like water from a broken dam. "He promised he’d always be there, Emily. He said he’d never leave, and now he’s just… not. He left, and it feels like I didn’t matter. Like I wasn’t enough to keep him here."

Your voice broke, a sob finally escaping as the weight of it all hit you. Hot tears streaked down your face, and your chest heaved with the effort of holding it together. But you couldn’t. Not anymore.

Before you could fall apart completely, Emily closed the distance between you, wrapping her arms around you in a strong, secure embrace. You stiffened at first, unaccustomed to the sudden closeness, but the moment her hand rested gently at the back of your head, you crumbled. Sobs wracked your body as you buried your face in her shoulder, your fingers clutching at her jacket like a lifeline.

Emily’s arms tightened around you, holding you close, her steady heartbeat grounding you in the chaos of your emotions. She whispered softly, her voice soothing as she stroked your hair. "It’s okay. Let it out. I’m here. I’ve got you."

The warmth of her embrace, the steady cadence of her breathing, the soft murmur of her voice - it was everything you hadn’t known you needed. You clung to her, the pain and hurt pouring out in ragged sobs as she held you through it, never letting go.

After what felt like an eternity, your sobs began to quiet, your body still trembling but no longer overwhelmed. Emily loosened her hold just enough to pull back and look at you, her hand coming up to brush a tear from your cheek. Her eyes were filled with understanding, with care.

"You didn’t lose him," she whispered, her thumb brushing gently against your cheek. "He didn’t abandon you. Hotch made his choice for Jack, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. He cares about all of us. But you’re not alone. I’m here. The team is here. We’re still a family."

You sniffled, your hands still gripping her jacket as you wiped at your face. "It just hurts, Emily. I don’t know how to… how to do this without him."

"You don’t have to do it alone," she reassured, her voice soft but steady, unwavering in its promise. "We’ll figure it out together. And I’ll be here every step of the way."

For the first time since the news broke, you felt a small, fragile flicker of hope. Emily smiled gently, her hand still resting on your shoulder, a silent anchor amidst the storm. You nodded, the weight in your chest lifting, just a little.

"Come on," she said, her voice lighter now. "Let’s get out of this wind. I'm freezing."

You allowed her to lead you back toward the stairwell, side by side, the cold wind slowly fading behind you. As you walked, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, things would be okay. You weren’t alone. And with Emily by your side, that felt like enough.

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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

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Forever for her. Left in Lincoln, pt. 7 .

10k, softdark!Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Series Master List | official playlist | floorplan

WARNINGS: I8+, virginity loss, big girthy age gap, angst, dark fluff, reader menstruates, p in v, fingering, grinding, creampie, subtle intimidation, manipulation, horror background elements. Joel is creepy, dark, delulu, and cringe (reader is sheltered, isolated, hormonal). Enthusiastic but dubious consent (brainwashing?), playing fast and loose with climate and fruit. Reader wears a flannel from Joel's closet. Haphazardly edited. This is not the last part.

"We're givin' each other everything, right?" You nodded, then he continued, "So listen." He paused and wet his lips. "I would do anything for ya, peaches." He looked down. "Anything." He met your eyes again and swallowed. "Anything to keep ya safe. . . " He lowered his voice. "an' anything to keep ya mine."

You woke up in Joel's bed, and he was nowhere in sight. You were warm, almost too warm. The dress was hanging on the back of his bedroom door. Your undergarments and a pad were on the nightstand.

You took a bath, then put your robe back on and laid on the bed staring at the dress on the back of the door. You could hear the rhythmic scrape of a rake outside and inwardly smiled, picturing Joel doing yard work. You put on your robe, crossed the room to look out the window and felt a refreshing draft as you held the curtains back. In the bottom right corner of the window's top pane, there was a spiderweb on the outside of the glass. The rake continued to scrape against the ground in the distance. The web was well-defined and irregular, some of the fibers thicker than others. You admired its intricacy and followed the design, looking for the spider, wondering if it was a male or female.

The rhythmic scraping of the rake lulled you into a trance as you followed the web from the outer edge in, until a black, out-of-focus mass fell right in front of your nose, then you felt a tickle on your chest. You gasped and stifled a squeal. Your body jerked into panic mode. You rapidfire slapped yourself on the chest and felt it smush against your robe. You wiped it on the window pane, then looked at the crumbled spider with its legs drawn in on itself, still moving but barely. It looked like a slow death, but you hoped it wasn't painful. Surely it never thought about its prey this way.

You took a deep breath and tried to slow your heart rate. You recalled that time back at your house, outside the spider shed, so long ago – Frank's words through laughter, "we're gonna get through this, honey." You took slow, calming breaths, then swallowed and whispered "sorry," before abruptly turning and walking to the bathroom. You washed your hands and chest with soap again, then came back and sat on the bed. The rake had stopped moving.

You finally stood up and retrieved the dress, bringing it to the bathroom with you and locking yourself in. You didn't want Joel to see you if it didn't look good on you. Plus, you had to do something really private.

First you went to the toilet. It was its own room within the bathroom. You locked it, too. You sat there for about fifteen minutes trying to let as much of your period out as you could after being horizontal all night. You didn't want all the built up blood pooling in your pad right away.

Once you did all you could, you washed up and looked in the mirror. You stood there and looked at yourself in your underwear for a minute, mostly looking at your face. You looked different, serious, but vibrating with a new energy. You imagined Joel standing behind you, as if you were in a portrait. Something you'd never have. But at least you had each other.

You finally put the dress on, over your head. You could just barely reach the back zipper to finish it. It felt much less cumbersome than you imagined it would. It was light and unrestrictive. The lace sleeves had enough room. It felt as comfortable as any other dress. You didn't look in the mirror right away. You looked down at yourself, then looked over your back, and down your arms. You looked in the reflection of the shower glass and the silhouette looked good enough.

You turned around to look in the real mirror, and you looked nice. The lace made you feel like a doll, but somehow you looked older than yourself at the same time. You turned around and admired it from the side and over your shoulder from the back, then smoothed it down over your butt and you didn't see the bulkiness you feared from your pad. You looked at yourself head on again, and the only thing out of place was the redness on your chest from scrubbing away the spider. With the dress on, there was a new smile behind your eyes, thinking about how Joel got it for you.

You went to the kitchen to look out the back window. You didn't see Joel and were somewhat relieved to have another moment to yourself. Your tummy felt nervous. You knew it was excitement, but the physical sensation was in discernable from anxiety. There was a little jar of apple juice on the table with a pill and a note that said "cramps?" You were feeling okay but thought about taking half of it anyway.

You sniffed the juice and it smelled good. You sat at the kitchen table and stared at the apple juice in the jar, then took a long sip and watched the tiniest bit of apple sediment settle back to the bottom. It was delicious. You took half the pill and downed the rest of the juice, then your stomach rumbled. You got an apple from the kitchen counter and sat back down. You inspected it and pressed it. You cut it with your thumbnail to make sure it wasn't rotten. It was crisp, and juice beaded along the crescent moon from your nail. You took a bite and it was fine. You relaxed into the chair and ate the apple.

Joel had let you sleep late. It was almost mid day. Just as you were finishing up your apple, you noticed him outside through the kitchen door window. He was standing there and looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He was wearing a white button-up shirt that looked like one Frank might wear to one of his black tie dinners. Joel came inside and as he turned around to close the door, you admired his lower body in a pair of form fitting khakis.

"You look nice," you told him.

He exhaled a small laugh and looked at the floor as he crossed the room to you. He sat down at the table and took your hand. "You look like an angel." He kissed your hand and scooted closer. He smelled like aftershave (although he wasn’t shaved, thank goodness) and a hint of sweat from his yard work. As comfortable as he made you feel, you still got butterflies around him.

He asked, "Hungry?"

You nodded. "A little."

"How bout a lil picnic, somethin' light?"

You nodded "is it nice out?"

"Prettiest day we could want, peaches."

—------

He made some grits and you sat at the table watching. He pulled the wagon with a basket, quilt, and blanket, and held your hand as you slowly walked. He squinted and looked at the trees, then at you.

He asked, "How ya feelin'?"

"Good, I'm fine."

"Good."

You assumed you were going to "your tree," but instead you arrived at a peach tree. He had cleared the area around it so no debris was in the way. He looked around and asked, "Whatcha think?"

You looked around. It was a good spot, away from the back, but not too close to the street. Insulated enough to feel private. You nodded, "yeah, this is nice."

Joel spread out the quilt, then the blanket, then, before sitting down, he took both your hands in his. "I feel so lucky, peaches. You're the most special girl in the world." His eyes bored into yours. "Really mean that. There's no one like you, darlin'."

You looked down then met his eyes again, biting your lip. "I think you're special, too."

A breeze came and swept your dress out, making the scene feel like a postcard.

He dropped your hands, then fetched something out of his pocket and looked at it. Your heart skipped a beat. His thick fingers were blocking your view.

"Now darlin', I'm gonna give ya somethin', but first. . ."

He held it up. It was gold and shiny. Your birth father's wedding band. Your heart skipped a beat and a knot formed in your stomach.

"My. . ." You couldn't finish the sentence. This meant he knew about the gun, too. . . and your mother's knife.

Joel must have seen it on your face. "Left everything else how ya had it. You're a smart girl, peaches."

You tried to read his face. It was soft, sympathetic. You nodded hesitantly.

"It's okay, darlin'. I don't blame ya. I woulda done the same." He held the ring between his forefinger and thumb and you opened your palm. "Smart to be prepared."

You breathed a sigh of relief as the knot in your stomach relaxed. But even as it faded, you still had that nervous–no, excited–tummy.

Joel put the ring in your hand and closed it. He held his hand there around yours and seemed like he might say something else, but he didn't.

You didn't have anywhere to put the ring. You had a passing thought to put it on your thumb but it felt stupid. You felt an urge to say you were going to give it to Joel, but you didn't say anything since he let you off the hook.

Joel reached back in his pocket and fished out another ring, smaller. It was silver with inset stones. He held it up and said, "I want you to have this one." He stepped closer, so his feet were outside yours. "We're givin' each other everything, aren't we?"

You nodded, and his eyes watered.

He nodded with you and his brow furrowed. "I love you. . . And I love bein' a family, the two of us."

Your own eyes felt misty. "I love you, too."

He took your hand, and slid the ring onto it. It was old fashioned, simple. "Ain't never gonna let ya go."

"Good," you whispered.

—

He kissed your hand, and when he tried to hold your other hand, too, you realized you were still holding your father's ring.

"Um," you cleared your throat. "Would this fit you?" You asked and opened your hand. His face relaxed.

"I dunno, peaches," he whispered. His eyes sparkled at you. He held his hand palm-down. The top of his ring finger's knuckle was a little red as if he'd already tried to put it on. You slid the ring part way on, but his finger was too big.

"Sorry," you muttered and felt a lump in your throat. You didn't have anything to give him. It rested above his knuckle.

"S'okay darlin', it's the fact that ya tried." He unbuttoned his shirt pocket, dropped the ring into it, then buttoned it again. "I'll keep it safe for ya."

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth and nodded, looking up at him shyly, somehow feeling like you ruined this.

He cupped your face and read your eyes, then closed the gap between your faces and his lips pressed into yours.

He hugged you into him, kissed you harder, then murmured, "wanna sit down?"

You nodded.

You smoothed your dress under you and sat down with your knees to the side, leaning toward him. He unpacked a thermos of grits and two bowls. He unbuttoned his wrists and rolled up his sleeves and his forearm flexed with every lift of the spoon. You ate mostly in silence, but he looked at you adoringly the whole time and your nerves faded. His wrist nudged his inner thigh and when your eyes drifted there, the shape of his cock sent a pang between your legs. He followed your gaze and your face heated up as he raised his eyebrows.

—

When you were finished eating, you washed it down with the apple juice, then Joel packed up the basket and put it back in the wagon. When he settled back onto the blanket again, he had a serious look about him.

He sat down with his legs folded to the side so his knees were toward you, and he braced his hand on the blanket, leaning toward you. He kissed you again. He tasted like apples and you imagined he did, too. As he pulled away, he read your face and cupped your cheek. "You're the most beautiful angel, darlin'," he smiled. His gaze lingered, then he swallowed and looked down. He sat up straighter and cleared his throat. He asked again, "We're givin' each other everything, right?"

You nodded, then he continued, "So listen," then wet his lips and paused. "I would do anything for ya, peaches." He looked down. "Anything." He swallowed. "Anything to keep ya safe," he met your eyes and lowered his voice. "And anything to keep you mine."

Your heart raced and you slowly nodded as he let it sink in.

"Get what I'm sayin', peaches?"

"Bad things," you nodded.

His brows remained furrowed as he studied your face. His voice was low and gruff. "Yeah, you could say that."

You looked down to his shirt and the outline of your father's ring in his pocket. He continued, "and darlin', I've felt this way for some time."

Your chest fluttered.

He looked up at the leaves of the peach tree, and it hit you that this was where he found you that day.

Your whole body felt warm, especially in the lace sleeves. He looked at you with anticipation and you admitted, "I had a feeling."

He lifted his eyebrows as he searched your eyes. "Okay," he whispered with a small nod. He looked down again.

"Yeah," you replied. ". . .and maybe you already did bad things." Your chest pounded. He looked at you blankly, and once he blinked, you rephrased, "Necessary things. To be together."

His jaw shifted back and forth. He looked at your mouth, then back up at your eyes. "Would ya wanna know?"

Tension gathered between your eyebrows. You took a deep breath, looked at his lips and watched his jaw clench. His eyes watered. After a moment, you slowly shook your head no. He inhaled and his eyes narrowed. Your voice was a near whisper as you told him, "No. . . Doesn't matter now."

Joel exhaled and nodded. He looked at you intensely and whispered, "Okay, baby."

You didn't need to know. You told him, "We're together, that's all I care about."

"Me too, darlin'." He chuckled, then relaxed and said, “so glad we got each other.” He folded his knees toward you again, leaned in, and cupped your cheek, his eyes locked with yours. “Me and you, baby.”

“You and me,” you whispered, lashes fluttering as his face drifted toward yours.

—-

Your lips locked, and yours tingled with excitement.

His hand moved to the back of your head. His tongue parted your lips, and he pulled you into him as he became more passionate.

As his kiss intensified, he gently lowered you into lying down on the blanket, with one of his knees between yours. His hand ran up your side and came to a rest on your breast as his mouth devoured yours. He palmed your breast, gently bit your lip, and his length hardened against your thigh. When he pulled back, he cupped your face and raised his eyebrows, and his voice was husky. "I'm never," he kissed your lips, then lowered his volume and looked into your eyes, "gonna let you go." His thumb stroked your temple. His lips brushed yours, then kissed you deeper. He pulled back, shook his head with a small smile, and his voice became a whisper as he repeated, "Never."

Your skin prickled with goosebumps, Joel's beautiful face hovering over yours under the peach tree, his body pressed against yours.

"Good," you whispered, and took his head in both your hands. You pulled him down on you. He braced himself with one forearm on the blanket near your head and his other hand traveled back down your side, down your dress, and reached under the skirt of it to your thigh. His hand slid up your thigh and he squeezed it, then lifted your thigh against him.

He lowered his hips to rest against yours, and his cock grew stiffer against you. The warm shape of his stiff length made your whole body go weak. He lifted himself off you just long enough to get the skirt of your dress out of the way. You felt warm and wet between your legs and didn't know how much of it was blood. You knew he didn't care, but it didn't entirely leave your mind.

He had the front of it bunched up at your hips, with his hand between your legs. You flinched as his palm glided over your panties, feeling the shape of your pad. But it didn't phase him at all. He gently reached into your panties.

Your face tensed. “Remember, I–"

"I know, baby," he reassured you with kind eyes.

"What about the dress?”

“Dress don’t matter, darlin’." He kissed you again. "Long as you're feelin' good." He planted another kiss and pressed his hard-on against you again. "Are ya?"

You nodded an unequivocal yes. It was certainly what your body wanted.

"Hell, let's paint it red,” he mused.

You relaxed and laughed softly.

"No?" He asked with a smile, then leaned his forehead against yours. He kissed you gently.

The time of the month wasn't ideal, but you wanted it. If you waited, he might think you weren't ready after all. Plus, you were more comfortable than you ever thought you could be. A month ago, you would have died at the thought of a man seeing any evidence of your period at all. But Joel was so reassuring, so comforting, and he really wanted all of you. He was turning it into something beautiful, and you had no doubt he felt that way. He looked at you again, then asked, “Sure you’re feelin’ good enough?" He kissed you again. “‘Cause that's all that matters.”

“I am,” you nodded earnestly.”

“You sure?”

"Joel," you sighed on the edge of irritation.

"Ok, darlin'."

He slid his hand down and exhaled vocally when his fingers met your warm, moist folds. He ran his fingers up and down your folds, moistening your clit, then he slowly, teasingly circled it. His cock swelled harder against you. "You wanna go to bed?"

You shook your head. "It's magical out here."

"That's right, peaches," he murmured lowly into your neck, lightly circling your clit with his moist fingers. His breath was warm and humid against your neck. "Special, ain't it?"

You nodded, and pulled his head back down to yours. Your lips met again. His thick fingers tensed, slid down, and prodded at your entrance. You tilted your hips and he gave a short, low "mm" as he brought his fingers back to your clit.

His tongue slid against yours in rhythm with his fingers. His mouth grew hungrier for yours every moment as he massaged your most sensitive place. He got you almost to the edge. You whimpered as his hands worked within the confines of your panties. Then he asked, "Let's take these off, hmm?" You nodded. He started to do it, then looked at your face to confirm, "You want me to?"

"I can do it," you lifted your hips and slid them down, and once they were mid-thigh, he finished taking them off.

–

He lowered his torso against yours and his massive hand nudged your shoulder up toward him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he lifted you into sitting. He traced the back neckline of the dress and murmured, "want this on or off?"

You shrugged.

"up to you, darlin'. But I sure would like to see ya." He kissed your neck and you could feel him smile against your skin. "If you're warm enough"

You were warm all over. You were so warm at your very core that it was hard to imagine ever being cold again. You asked, "you'll keep me warm, won't you?"

"Course I will."

You cracked a shy smile and planted your hands on the ground to lift your weight off the dress. Joel brought the dress up to your stomach, his fingers smearing it red, then you lifted your arms and he took it off. He planted delicate kisses on your chest at the base of your neck, and your shoulder as he gently nudged your bra straps off. Then he unclasped the back, and you let it fall in front of you. He put the bra aside and you were naked. He folded the dress into a pillow and put it under your head.

You looked at Joel's clothes and didn't say anything, but he replied to your silent question with a teasing smile. "no, I don't have to be so dressed..." you silently unbuttoned his pants, eye on his cock straining against the khakis, as he unbuttoned his shirt. Before pulling down the zipper, you traced the hard shape of his cock, and his chest let out a nearly imperceptible growl at your first rub.

He made quick work of the remaining shirt buttons, smearing a few of them red. His chest flexed as he peeled the sleeves down his bulging arms. He took his undershirt off over his head, tousling his hair, which he didn’t fix. It was the hottest you’d ever seen him. You were sitting back on your hands, naked body laid out for him. He looked at you lustily every few seconds as he took his pants off, then his boxers, leaving his commanding cock bobbing heavily before you. You pulled your eyes back up to his face and he looked at you adoringly.

–

He knelt on the blanket. Was this really going to happen? You reached out, and he nodded. You wrapped your hand around his shaft and whined, "I'm ready, you know I'm ready."

"Ready for what, darlin'?"

"To put our bodies together."

He nodded. "yeah, baby. You're ready. Gonna be real special."

He got between your legs where a fluttering ache was pounding, begging for relief. He held his cock in his hand. You felt your body making space for him. There was a place inside you that needed to be filled. He slowly lunged toward you and braced his hand on the blanket above your hip. He ran his tip through your dripping folds and his manhood further hardened. He spread the moisture over his cock. He laid his hard cock on your mound and brought his face to yours again. He rested about half his weight on top of you, his bare body flush with yours, his forearms braced on the blanket.

He kissed you deeply, grinding his erection against you, slick with your arousal and blood. Your lips embraced his and your mouth practically sucked in his tongue. He licked into you in rhythm with his slow thrusts against you. Your clit twitched against his cock and you lifted your hips, making him moan into your mouth. You needed him in you yesterday. You lifted your hips again and his mouth curved into a smile against your lips.

He reached between your legs and the breadth of his hand took up all the space. You whimpered at the first contact of the padding of his fingers with your naked heat. He slowly, lightly rubbed you as he kissed you, then slid his fingers down through your folds, gathering your moisture. He entered you with his middle finger, then his ring finger. You moaned into his mouth as his fingers slid all the way into your warm core. His cock swelled harder against your thigh as he pumped his thick digits in and out of you. He moaned softly, then added a third. Your hips rocked into his hand.

You were tense, afraid of coming too soon.

"Joel," you whimpered.

"Yeah baby," he murmured.

"What if I–ohh–what if I come too soon."

He chuckled, "you can come, baby," he kept working his fingers inside you, pressing his upper palm into your clit. You sighed and the tension swelled in your gut. "'s'a good thing, darlin'. gets ya ready for this." He rolled his stiff manhood against you as he said it. "Nice 'n ready."

"But Joel," you whined, unsure. "I want you inside"

"You wanna come on my cock?"

"Yeah, on your cock."

"Oh, baby," he moaned, his cock leaking against your thigh. "You will, baby. You will. You'll come again."

"Really?

He nodded. "Yeah. C'mon darlin, You'll come on my cock, too."

His eyes were sincere. He returned his attention to your clit and you let go. As you began to contract, he slid his fingers back inside you. "Oh, good girl," he sighed as you squeezed his fingers. "Like that, don't ya? Like squeezin' me?"

You nodded and whimpered, unable to speak as you rode out the orgasm.

"Oh, baby." He continued grinding against your hip and kissed you again as you recovered.

He pumped three fingers again, and under his breath, he muttered, "good. . .good." He moaned and pushed his hips against you. "Now I've got ya stretched, nice and relaxed."

"Joel," you begged. "Are you gonna–"

“Oh darlin’, I’m comin’.” he whispered. “Ready to be full of me?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. "Fill me with you," you begged. "Put it in."

“Givin’ each other everything now,” he reminded you. “Can’t get it back.”

You nodded, “you can have it all.”

“And I’m gonna give it to ya, too.”

You nodded and your walls twitched in anticipation.

"Gonna give it all to ya."

He read your eyes and as you got lost in the black holes of his pupils, the clear fibers of his affection wrapped around you, tethering you to him and the moment. He pulled his hips back and his knees spread slightly. You spread your legs to make room. He looked between your legs and the affection on his face faded into desire. “My lands, peaches.”

He hovered over you. Your hands skimmed up his sides, and came to rest around his neck.

He used his hand to notch himself at your entrance and pushed his tip inside, stretching you open. You gasped softly, breasts heaving in anticipation of the rest of it. You dragged your feet toward your butt on the blanket, lifting your knees to frame his hips.

“I love you, baby,” he whispered, and put his forehead against yours.

“I love you too,” you whined, brows furrowed.

His forehead lifted off yours, his lips returned to your mouth, and his hips pressed forward, inching his cock into you with a stretch. His lips broke away from yours and his mouth stayed open. He watched your face as his girth spread you open, dividing your walls. You gasped and nodded for more. He pushed further, taking you apart from yourself inch by inch. You imagined even a smidgen more girth wouldn’t feel good. He bowed his head and backed out an inch of his length, watching your body suck him back in as he pushed in a little more than he had before.

“God damn,” he whispered, then wet his lips as he looked back up at you with half his length sheathed in your warmth.

“You feel so good, joel”

“Oh, darlin’,” he breathed. “You got no idea.”

“I want it all,” you begged.

He nodded, “Okay, baby.” then slowly pushed his hips forward, gradually burying his length with some effort, stuffing you full of him. “Oh, darlin’.” The look of pain on his face told you how hard he was trying not to slam into you. He was slow and gentle, and his tip pushed through your core with even more heft than you imagined. Each inch of him spread you more and filled you fuller than you thought you could be. Your body made more space and he took it up right away.

“Joel,” you breathed.

He whispered your name and said, “you’re doin’ so good.” His flesh didn’t just complete you, it made you more than you were. He took you apart and made you something new, something wrapped around him so tight. “almost there, baby.” And then he groaned “Ohhhh, god,” as you swallowed up the rest of him. It was a perfect fit.

You whimpered as he came to a rest. His cock filled up the whole space and made more for itself. The fuzz of his balls brushed your skin. Your mouth hung open and you breathed, savoring the fullness of feeling him there inside you for the first time.

“Oh, darlin’,” he sighed, staying all the way inside you. He pressed his lips into yours, then pulled back and asked, “You okay?”

You nodded, happy tears prickling your eyes. His brows knitted.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

He nodded. “First time in years,” he whispered, and looked up at the tree. His cock twitched inside you and his tip nudged your cervix. “You tell me when you’re ready, baby.”

“I’m ready,” you nodded.

He looked you in the eyes again. “Our life starts now.” He withdrew most of his length, then let it back into you, his belly flush with yours while his cock dragged heavily inside you. He closed his eyes as your bodies became flush again. He retreated again at a snail’s pace, then pushed in a little faster.

“Saved this just for me, didn’t ya?”

He met your eyes again, then added, “Never be anyone else.”

He lowered his face for another kiss. Each time his flesh filled you up you could hardly believe how your body hugged him. It was like your body had been waiting for him all along. It really had been. This was what your bodies were made to do. Complete each other.

He looked at you and his brow furrowed again.

You asked, "What? What, Joel?"

“Now that I’ve been inside ya,” he breathed, "I’m not sure I know how not to be.”

You knew exactly how he felt. You couldn't bear the thought of being pulled apart.

He reached a slow but steady rhythm, gently filling you with his cock. You traced his shoulder, then his bicep. His bare stomach was resting against your skin, his happy trail touching you with each thrust m. He had about half his weight on you, and he let gravity help as he thrust into you. You imagined it as a magnetism. Each time he retreated, your bodies pulled back together. He bowed his head and watched himself disappear between your legs, and watched your body clinging to his shaft, hugging him tight, trying to pull him back in, not letting him go. “God damn, baby,” he breathed as he watched. “most beautiful thing I ever seen.”

When your caress reached the crook of his elbow, he braced on one forearm so he could take your hand and interlace.his fingers with yours. He held your hand to his chest and whispered, “All yours, darlin’,” his hips still moving, his cock sliding snugly against every ridge of you .

You nodded tearfully, pressing your palm into his chest, feeling the soft hair and the hard muscle.

“Every beat of it, peaches.”

Your other hand cupped his cheek, then slid up to tangle in his hair as his face returned to yours, kissing you as he buried his length in you. When your faces separated, you watched the surreal beauty of his form – his messy hair, his tan skin glimmering, his brown eyes flickering with affection as he filled you to the brim with his flesh.

“Oh, baby, you feel so good”

“I–I’m so–it’s so–”

“Packed full of it, aren’t ya baby?”

You nodded. “It’s so much,” you whispered. “But not too much,” you quickly added. “‘s’perfect.”

“So perfect, darlin’--Ohhh god, baby-–always knew ya were.”

All you saw was him, and the rhythm of his chest over yours. Beneath his heavy breaths and moans, leaves danced in the breeze, birds chirped, and the occasional piece of fruit thumped in the distance as it hit the ground. “Oh baby, I've been starvin’ for this.” His hips moved steadily, filling you with his cock every second or so, whispering your name here and there, marveling at your beauty.

“It feels so good, Joel.”

“how’s it feel?”

“Meant to be there,” you whispered, then sighed as his cock dragged through your core, completing you again. “Like it’s filling my body” More than that–it was creating space for itself, space you didn’t have before, that's the part you didn't expect. It was moving the most intimate parts of you out of the way and replacing them with him.

You tried to describe it. “It’s like –” He lowered his mouth to your neck and sucked “--oh, joel–it’s–it’s–.”

“Oh, baby,” he sighed against your neck, his hips moving steadily. “I know it, darlin’,” he murmured, grinding his pelvis into yours with each smooth thrust. He slowed his hips, still grinding against you, stiff cock dragging inside you. “Meant to be right here.” Your leg wrapped around him and his thrusts became more measured, his pelvis closer against you, grinding into your clit. “Meant to be fillin’ you.”

The pleasure was swirling, nearly coming to a boil in your gut, humming for release against his front, around his cock. “I love you,” you breathed, lifting your hips into his.

“Ohhh, baby I love you too,” he whispered with a smile and near laugh. “‘n’ I love how ya take it.” His eyes darted around your face affectionately, then he bowed his head to look at where your bodies met. “Look so pretty wrapped around this cock,” he looked back up at you with bright, glistening eyes. “Look so pretty, peaches.” Your clit twitched. His movements had your hips lifting into him all on their own. “Yeah, that’s right, darlin’.” You let yourself grind up into him. “Jus’ like that,” he whispered, his body grinding against your mound as his cock moved within you. The tension hummed louder and tightened your core on the edge of bliss. You both moaned.

“Now I want ya to come, peaches,” he said in a serious tone. “Ohh, oh baby—want ya to come and squeeze me real good, can ya do that?”

You nodded, biting your lip, vision getting blurry with the moisture in your eyes. You couldn't take any more tension but unsure if or when the peak would overtake you.

“C’mon, I got ya,” he breathed as you teetered on the edge. “Breathe, baby. c’mon.” You remembered to breathe, his pelvis grinded into yours again, and then you whimpered as the tension burst. “Jo–ohhhh,” your voice was shaky as it overtook you. Your clit spasmed and each wave pulsed outward through your body. Your tears overtook your eyelashes as you moaned and gasped. Your walls clamped down around his cock, and he groaned.

“You–Ohgoddamn,” he muttered as though losing control. Then he groaned, bottomed out hard, and erupted with a shudder. A burst of warmth flooded your core, then your whole body. He dipped his head to kiss you as he came. His cock pulsed into your walls again and again and your walls squeezed in return. His lips pressed into yours, then his tongue. He kissed you and moaned into your mouth. He sucked and gently bit your bottom lip as he filled you. He was filling you all the way up, every single part of you full of him, his essence rushing through you.

There was before this and after this, you finally got it, after all this time he tried to make you see. You understood everything. Like how there was so much beauty left in the world, and it was right there between you. It wasn’t an abstract wish, it was the physical presence of you and him, your bodies together, pulsing against each other’s most intimate parts, his seed spilling into you, his lips on yours, your bodies inseparable, on the ground in the orchard. You saved it for him. Your whole life led to him.

His kiss became more tender as he finished coming. He pulled back and his eyes glistened as he read your face.

You locked eyes for what felt like forever, with Joel still breathing heavily, most of his weight on top of you.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

His eyes fell to your mouth and he kissed you again. “gonna pull out now, okay?”

Your lip trembled and your temples felt weak at the idea of your bodies not being joined. He could tell.

“It’s okay, darlin’. We’ll lay here, long as ya want.” He nodded at you and raised his eyebrows for permission to pull out.

You bit your lip and nodded.

He lay half on top of you, with a hand on your breast. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “How did it–how was it?”

“Like nothin’ i’ve ever known, baby.” He sucked in a shaky breath that made you look down at his face and his cheeks were wet.

–

You took a short nap like that, naked under the peach tree, until a dead leaf fell and tickled your arm and you jolted awake. A bird cawed at your sudden movement, and Joel asked, "you okay?"

When you got up, you only put your underwear back on. Joel wrapped you in one of the blankets, put his arm around you as he brought you back inside.

As you were walking back to the house, you heard the car noise again, toward the front of the orchard, and you froze, your eyes wide, looking toward the street. But this time it came with a breeze and the rustling of leaves.

“Just the wind, darlin’. What’s got ya so jumpy?”

“I dunno,” you mumbled. “Sorry.”

You didn’t realize you were jumpy. Maybe since you found out Bill and Frank could come home soon, you kept expecting them.

—-

When you got back inside, he laid the dress across the back of a chair in the living room and traced one of several red smudges with his fingers. There was bright red and dark red. "See? It's beautiful." He patted your hair. "gonna remember this forever."

He ran a bath. You sat on the edge of the garden tub as the bath filled up, and he kneeled in front of you in his boxers. He curled his fingers into the waistband of your panties and you stood up as he helped you take them off. There was diluted blood drying on your inner thighs. He dipped a sponge into the hot water to clean you. When you noticed a bit of his cum leaking out of you, it made you sad. You hoped he’d give you more.

Joel got in the tub first, then you got between his legs and laid back. You laid in silence for a while, then said, “I loved that." Hearing yourself in the bathtub sounded crisper than usual.

“What’d ya love, darlin'.”

“I love having you inside me.”

“Oh, baby, it’s my favorite place to be.”

"Good”

His cock twitched against your lower back. “‘Course it is, baby.” He kissed the crown of your head.

"I feel empty now"

"'S'okay, darlin'. You're s'posed to. 'S'posed to want somethin' there." His hand came between your legs and gently fingered your floating curls.

He shifted his hips under you. "Gotta pace yourself, but it'll feel better and better, I promise."

"Okay."

"We’ll rest up and do it again later."

"Yeah."

—---------

That night, you did it again. He was deep inside you, pressing sweet kisses into your neck as you whimpered beneath him.

“How’s it feel,” he murmured into your neck. “Still feel good?”

“Feels good,” you whined

“S’only gonna get better, baby. Better every day.” He slowly retreated, then sighed "ohh, baby" as he filled you with his cock again. He was still fucking you slowly, carefully, grunting and moaning with your whimpers and sighs. His hair was messed up again, moving to the beat of his thrusts, and his neck veins were bulging.

There was a loud rap at the door, startling you both. Joel’s hand reflexively covered your mouth as he froze, then composed himself and completed one last slow thrust, one that felt even better with you frozen in fear.

“Gonna be okay, baby,” he whispered, then pulled out. He slowly released his hand from your mouth, pressing a kiss into your lips. Your eyes were wide. You hadn't heard the car over your mutual pleasure. "Gonna be okay," he repeated.

He pulled on a pair of jeans and white t-shirt. He took a gun out of his nightstand. There was another loud rap at the door, longer this time. A deep voice with the same drawl as your husband. “JOEL, IT’S ME. OPEN UP.”

Joel looked at you and whispered, "Tommy."

Joel put the gun in the back of his jeans and shut the bedroom door behind him.

—--

The front door creaked as Joel opened it. “Tommy.” You heard the slapping of a hand on a back as they greeted each other, then the door closed. “Didn’t know ya were comin’, woulda gotten a room ready or–”

"Just dropped off Bill ‘n Frank.”

“Shhhh.”

“Hey, what the hell's goin' on? Where's the kid?”

“Tell’em she’s safe. Asleep upstairs."

"You don't think she'd wanna see'em?"

"No sense in wakin' her up."

There was a long pause, then Joel asked, “Why’d ya drive’em?"

“Their truck gave out.” After a long pause, Tommy added “Frank said somethin’s off with you.”

“What're you talkin’ about? Why would Frank said that?”

"Said ya smiled. Made'em uneasy."

Joel scoffed. "I was bein' nice."

Tommy laughed. "I told'em you're weird about hospitals, prolly overcompensatin'. Told'em everything's fine. . ."

Joel said, "good, ‘cause everything is."

"You gonna invite me in?"

"Come on in." A few footsteps, then the front door shut.

Tommy asked, “She’s upstairs?”

Tommy’s boots thudded away from Joel's bedroom, toward the stairs.

“Tommy, wait.”

Tommy didn’t wait. Two sets of footsteps climbed the stairs, with Joel’s quieter steps following Tommy's boots. You couldn't hear their conversation. A door opened and closed upstairs. Then another. And another. You turned the ring on your finger.

Footsteps, then indistinct heated words.

The lighter set of footsteps descended the stairs with the boots following behind. Tommy's voice got closer on the way down the stairs. “somethin’ ain't right here.”

The front door locked before Tommy made it down.

Joel was calm. “Slow down, take a breath.”

Tommy replied, “I don’t like that look you’re givin’ me, brother.”

Joel told him, “You need to sit down and listen to me.”

“Joel, if I don’t come back, Bill’s comin’ over here.”

"She's safe," Joel insisted. "C'mere, let's have a drink."

The footsteps faded into the living room, then stopped abruptly. "What the hell's that?" The footsteps slowly resumed, then stopped again. Then, the rustling of fabric. Tommy's voice was shaky. "What the hell is this, Joel?"

"Shhhhh. Ain't what ya think."

"Don't look like it," Tommy laughed in bad humor, then composed his nerves into calm anger. "What'd you do, Joel?"

"Nothin', Tommy. It’s her period, damn. Now sit down."

"I may be the only one who knows how dangerous you are, but don't act like I don't fuckin’ know.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Joel responded, “You don’t."

You held your neck, looking around the room. Your pulse was pounding against the heel of your palm.

“I don't? What the hell’s that s'posed to mean?”

“I’m in love with her, Tommy." Your heart swelled.

"Jesus. . ."

Tommy mumbled something else, and Joel responded, “She's not a kid."

"She's Bill's kid," Tommy countered.

"Not anymore. And I’ll do anything to keep her." After a pause, Joel added, “I mean anything.”

"I fuckin' know you do," Tommy snapped.

"Then we’re clear," Joel said. "Tell'em ya didn't wanna wake her up."

"Not ‘til I see her," Tommy insisted.

There was a beat of silence, then Joel offered, "Cool off first, have a drink. Don't wanna scare her."

Your heart raced. Their voices became indistinct as they moved towards the kitchen.

—---------

You sat on the bed stunned. Your parents were home, and you weren't as happy as you imagined you'd be to hear it. You were wholly preoccupied by Tommy's words. Joel was dangerous. You had already come to know it in your heart, but hearing someone else say it out loud had your mind racing. You never thought about what that meant for you. The worst part was the fear in Tommy’s voice. Would Joel do something to Tommy? His own brother? They were family. You and Joel were family.

You got up and went into Joel's closet. You pulled out a flannel and put it on over your nightgown. You built up your courage, then slowly opened Joel’s bedroom door.

—---------------

You emerged from the bedroom, unsure how either of them would react. You pulled the flannel over your hands, hiding the ring. As you tiptoed into the living room, Joel was on the sofa facing away from you. Tommy was facing you and saw you first. He was holding a mostly empty glass of whiskey. Joel's glass was already empty on the coffee table. Tommy sat upright and swallowed. He put his glass down on the side table.

“Hey,” Tommy's voice was soft, like he didn't want to startle you. “You okay?”

Joel looked over his shoulder, then turned his body.

“Yeah,” you nodded and walked over to them, looking at Joel. Joel's face softened as he looked at you. You sat on one of Joel’s thighs, your bare feet on the floor holding some of your weight.

“They're home, darlin’,” Joel said and looked at you with pleading eyes. “wanna go now, or let’em get some rest, see’em in the mornin’?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Let’em get some rest.”

Tommy sat back and raised his eyebrows in surprise. When you looked right at him, the dress caught your eye on the other chair and your chest felt hot.

Joel cradled your head with one hand and kissed you on the cheek. “Ok, peaches. Give Uncle Tommy a kiss goodnight, then go back to bed."

You looked at Joel hesitantly. He nodded toward Tommy and flexed his jaw.

Tommy watched you curiously as you approached. You gave him a loose hug around the neck and the lightest peck on the cheek.

“Night, sweetie,” Tommy mumbled.

You went back to Joel's lap and put your arms around his neck. He looked at you and you searched his eyes. He gave you a chaste kiss on the lips and whispered, "Go on. I'll be there soon," with a wink. His hand was big and warm on your back as you stood up to walk away.

—

Before you closed the bedroom door behind you, Tommy said, "Okay, she's not a kid. . . Don't mean it's right."

Their conversation became indistinct until Tommy was leaving a few minutes later.

Joel said, “I’ll leave it unlocked. You can stay upstairs.”

The front door opened and closed.

—------

You weren't planning on it but as soon as the front door began to close, your legs carried you into Joel's bathroom, and your shaking hand closed the door. You sat on the tiled floor against the door. Your heart pounded. Joel would never do anything to hurt you. Why was your body reacting this way? Your eyes felt weak. You didn't want him to see you scared or upset, but this couldn't be much better. You closed your eyes and tried to get back to that place you were in the orchard where everything in the universe made sense.

Joel came into the bedroom and shut the door behind him. "Aw, baby" he said to himself as he realized where you were. He took off his pants and put the gun back in the drawer, then approached the bathroom door. "You in there, peaches?”

“Yeah,” you managed weakly.

“Can I come in?” Joel tried to open the door and found it was locked.

“Not now.” You wanted to stop crying first.

After a moment of silence, he slid down the other side of the door and sat down. “Can ya talk to me, baby?”

You sniffled, then whined, “I dunno what to say.”

Joel sighed and you heard the soft thud of his head resting against the other side of the door. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whimpered.

“We’re a family now, baby. Gotta work through whatever you’re feelin’.”

You scooted back and slowly opened the door.

Joel came in and sat on the tile next to you, your backs against the door. He stroked your thigh. His voice was soft. “Wanna come back to bed or wanna talk in here?”

“Here.”

“Okay,” he whispered. He was studying your eyes, desperate to read them.

You winced with a cramp and put your hand where it hurt. He went to get you a pill and came back. He handed you the pill and a glass of water. “Want me to run you a bath?”

You shook your head no. You didn't need a third bath.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“What’s wrong?” you repeated.

You looked at him, hating the fact that he was going to make you ask him. Earlier, you said you didn't want to know. You wanted it to stay an abstract, romantic concept that he would kill for you. But the way Tommy was talking, you felt like you needed something. You felt like you needed to know Joel better.

Joel took a deep breath in through his nose. His voice was soft and careful. “Tommy’s my brother, and I love’m, but .. .sometimes, brothers. . . .” He was searching for words, and at the same time, searching your face for an out. He gave up and his voice dropped an octave. “What’d ya hear, darlin’?”

You heard the words come out of your mouth before you could stop them. "How'd you kill him?"

Joel squinted and searched your face. “Who?”

“What happened to Jesse?” you asked. Joel looked up at the ceiling and his nostrils flared. His chest expanded with a calming breath. You continued, “I don’t care about him at all. I don’t even care if you killed him but I wanna know."

"Thought ya didn't wanna know."

"Now I do."

“I dunno if that’s a good idea, peaches.”

“You said you’d do anything for me. This is what I need, I need you to tell me.”

Joel sighed and swallowed, then nodded. “There was an accident.”

"What kind of accident?"

"He fell."

“What? Like from a tree?”

“No, when he was diggin’.”

You felt lightheaded imagining the garden beds, and the way Joel tucked the pumpkin flower behind your ear. Something told you he was still out there. You tried not to show anything on your face.

You asked, “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“‘Cause it was my fault. I scared him. Didn't want ya to be afraid."

“What happened?“

“Won’t do ya any good knowin’ that, darlin’.” Joel sighed. “Might make ya feel bad.”

“I don’t care, just tell me.” What bothered you was that it wasn't even serious with the boy. It was nothing like it was with Joel. So Joel didn't have to do whatever he did. All Joel had to do was love you and you would've dropped everything else in an instant. All Joel had to do was hug you. You really believed that.

“He was gonna hurt ya, darlin'." You found that hard to believe, but heard him out. You reflexively squinted but tried not to look too skeptical.

"Hurt me how."

“He was talkin’ like. . . he was talkin’ disrespectful.”

Your face burned, thoughts flying around in your head about what he possibly could have said.

Joel did a double take at your face and noticed how embarrassed you were. “Darlin’, you really don’t need to be hearin’ this.”

“Just tell me.”

"So when he tried to touch ya. . .”

“You were watching us?”

“I was worried, darlin’. Just lookin’ out for ya.”

“So you saw me stop it, then.”

“Sure did, and I was proud of ya.” There was nothing to be proud of. It wasn't on any moral grounds, you were just nervous in Joel's orchard. And apparently, you had every reason to be.

“So what happened?”

“So, next time we were workin', it came up again. . ."

Your mouth felt dry.

Joel continued, "I told him that’s not how to treat a woman, that you deserved better.”

Your heart pounded. “And you were really mad, that's why he fell.”

Joel nodded, and you nodded. You could picture the rest of it, but you didn't want to. You imagined that when he fell, that wasn't the end of it.

You took his hand. “Thank you for telling me.”

Joel kissed your hand and breathed a sigh of relief.

“And thanks for doing that," you added.

Joel squinted at you, taken aback. “Doin’ what, darlin’?”

“Whatever you had to do. . . for me.”

Joel studied your face as though it might have been a trick. It wasn’t. He slowly nodded. He kissed your hand again. “You don’t hate me.”

“Of course I don’t hate you, I love you.”

Joel’s eyes watered. “This is true love, baby. Unconditional.”

You asked, “Can I ask you something else?”

“Anything, peaches.”

"Who else?”

"Uh," Joel squinted.

"I asked you how you killed him, and you asked who."

"Oh, darlin'," he chuckled.

"Did Abe really leave?"

Joel inhaled then puffed out his cheeks as he let out the breath and hesitantly shook his head no.

“He was in bad shape when I found him. Gettin’ sick, talkin’ crazy..”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were already scared. . . didn’t wanna make it worse.”

You barely nodded, trying to process all this, wondering if there was more to it, but consciously pushing the thought away. You wondered whether you would've been more or less scared if you knew something happened to Abe.

"You're a smart girl, peaches."

“What’d Tommy mean when he said you’re dangerous?”

Joel wiggled his jaw and looked away, then back at you. “I’ve made some mistakes. Used to let my temper get the best of me.” He looked down. “Don’t drink like I used to.”

He scooted around on the tile to face you. He picked up both your hands and looked at you with big, pleading eyes. “But no matter what, you gotta believe I would never, ever hurt you, baby." His eyes were glistening. "There’s no part'a me that would. I’d sooner hurt myself.”

You looked at his mouth and just as you saw the smallest quiver, he wet his lips and swallowed.

You whispered, “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Good.” He sighed in relief.

You took your hands away and tightened the flannel around you, then said, “and you wouldn’t hurt anyone I love, because that would hurt me."

Joel swallowed and inhaled through his nose, waiting uncomfortably for you to continue.

You looked at each other for a few seconds, then you asked, “Are Bill and Frank gonna be okay here?”

He looked away, then back at you before muttering, “I hope so, darlin'.”

“Even if we can't be together right away?”

Joel squinted at you incredulously. “What're you talkin’ ‘bout, can’t be together?" He scoffed coldly, making your temples hurt. "I’m sure as hell not lettin’ Tommy tell me what to do. You gonna let them tell you what to do?”

“No. . .” You didn’t know what else to say.

“We talked about this, darlin’. You change your mind?”

You shook your head. “Guess I’m still nervous. Thought maybe it'd take time."

Joel clenched his jaw, opened his mouth to speak. Then closed it again. When he did speak, he was calm and measured. “There’s no scenario where we’re not together, peaches." He raised his eyebrows at you and added flatly, "We promised each other forever.”

“I know,” you whispered.

“And I meant it,” he added with a hint of accusation.

You protested, “I did, too.” You did.

"Well I still mean it."

"I do, too." You weren't lying. Somehow, you didn't want it any less. If anything, your heart wanted it more. You wondered if you went too far in your questions.

He pried your hands off the flannel to hold them. You tried to relax but your hands were still tense.

He dipped his head to make eye contact with you and didn't blink. “You and me together. No matter what.” He closed his eyes for a breath and sighed. When his eyes met yours again, he added, “No matter where.”

Your heart fluttered.“No matter where?”

He nodded with a deep inhale through his nose. His eyes wandered, then found yours again. “yeah, no matter where."

This tugged at your heart. Was he really willing to take you out?

"There's another town . . . Ain't easy gettin’ there, but I reckon if we're real careful. . .”

You pondered it silently. You wanted to see the world outside, but you never thought about moving. You wanted to live with Joel on this land forever, but you wanted your parents to be okay, too. Leaving altogether seemed so sudden, so huge.

You asked, “Really? You would take me out?”

“Scares me to death,” he admitted. "But I just wanna be with you, peaches."

You stayed quiet for a minute.

"Ain't right they kept ya here all your life," he muttered.

The thought of leaving forever was scary, but if that's what it took to keep your parents safe, you would. Joel was your home anyway. You could feel at home anywhere with him.

You asked, “Would I get to say goodbye?”

His mouth tensed and he looked at the floor.

"Not out loud," you conceded. "But could I see them again first?"

He was quiet, reading your face. "If that's what ya need," he nodded somberly.

“Spend a little time with them?” You asked.

“How much time?” Joel countered.

“I don’t know, a few days?”

“You wanna be apart that long?”

“No, but. . . no”

Joel sighed. “Let’s figure this out tomorrow, k?”

He cradled your head and whispered, “We’ll figure it out.” He pressed his lips into yours, giving you the slowest, most tender kiss. He pulled back and your eyes clouded up.

“I love you,” you whispered. “More than anything.”

He nodded, tears in his eyes.

You added, “And there’s no ‘but’. I’ll go anywhere to be with you.”

He pulled you into straddling him. Your arms wrapped around him all on their own and you were soothed. It was true, you had given him everything. You were hollow without it, without him. But up against his body, wrapped in his big arms, you felt complete again. You felt safe.

You could feel his manhood beneath you, warm and soft. He hugged you tight and drew in a ragged breath. He held you and stroked your head for a minute. His cock hardened a little with your crotch against it. You were beginning to feel the painkiller. “Sorry, baby,” he whispered. You yawned. “Thought we’d have more time.” The front door opened, and you flinched.

“Just Tommy," Joel whispered. "He’s gonna stay upstairs tonight, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go to bed, baby.”

You braced yourself with your hands on his shoulders and stood up. He hooked his thumbs under the flannel collar to help you take it off, but you pulled it tighter around yourself.

Joel pulled his hands away, then rubbed your back. "Okay, darlin'."

You got in bed, curled up on your side. Joel draped his arm over you and asked, “this okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded and loosely laced your fingers with his in front of you.

“‘S’gonna be fine, baby. We’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t wanna be apart,” you sniffled.

“We’re not gonna be,” he reassured you. “Ever.”

-----

THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER. AND YOU WILL HAVE MORE SEX.

However, this is on soft hiatus until after Halloween unless i really feel like putting out the next chapter. Too many seasonal things to cook.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging <3

I'll reblog or comment with Lincoln tag list.

@toxicfics for notifications. The tag list is not long for this world.

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #dark!joel miller #joel miller x innocent!reader #joel miller x virgin!reader #toxicanonymity ☠️#lincoln!joel #lincoln!joel ☠️#possessive!joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #tw arachnophobia #cw age gap

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gor3-hound · 11 months ago

Text

can't speak

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, age gap relationship, oral(m!receiving), headlock with thighs???, dacryphilia, leon is a little mean for, like, a second, daddy kink

a/n: sooo, this one is quite short. it's honestly just pure smut, but hope you like it :))

word count: 1.1k words

Leon's jaw clenches when you worm your way into his office for the hundredth time that day. It's like you've made it your personal goal to test his limits. Sometimes, he thinks it's his own fault. Dating a girl half his age was always going to come with its challenges…

He just hadn't expected you to be such a brat.

“Leon.” You whine, tapping his shoulder as you stand behind his desk chair, leaning over him and dropping your chin on his shoulder, jutting your bottom lip out to try and get his attention. “I'm bored… you've been in here all day.”

“As I told you the last ten times you've come in here, I have to get this report out today.” He says simply, not even turning to look at you. He'd been sweet the first couple of times you came looking for him, and it just made you even more of a pain, thinking you could get away with whatever you wanted. He wasn't making that mistake again.

You whine again, and his expression softens. He can't help it, he loves you so much. You might be annoying, but you were his girl. He wouldn't change that for the world.

“Be a good girl for me and let me finish up, yeah? Then I'm all yours.” He says after a moment, tilting his head to kiss your cheek before turning back to his computer.

Of course, that isn't good enough. It's never good enough. You always made sure you got your way, and it's clear you weren't going to let up until Leon gave you some attention. He's trying his hardest to keep his cool, but you keep prodding at his side, whining like a damn dog and begging for him to blow off his work.

You won't shut up. He can't take it anymore. Before you can even react, he's pushing his chair away from the desk and pressing down on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees.

“Jesus Christ.” He murmurs, one hand fisting your hair roughly, the other fumbling with the button on his jeans, a crease forming between his brows due to his frustration.

“Don't you think I have enough to deal with without you acting like this? Huh?” He asks, irritation creeping in his tone. “Spend every fuckin’ second of my free time with you, and it's still not enough?”

“Daddy, I’m sorry.” You say gently, big puppy dog eyes peering up at him, your lashes fluttering so prettily. Almost manages to get him to go easy on you, but it's too late for that now.

“No. You're not, are you?” He grunts, finally managing to free his aching cock, forcing you down onto it, not missing the way your eyes light up as you suck eagerly on it, making him groan.

“Always fuckin’ whining when you don't have a dick in you. Such a slut.” He says through gritted teeth, using his hand in your hair to guide you, making you take him deeper into your mouth. “And I'm always too fuckin’ sweet on you, let you get whatever you want. It doesn't work like that, princess.”

His eyes are half lidded as he looks down at you, moaning softly as his hips neck up, forcing him further into your mouth, tip breaching your throat. Your eyes are already watering, making the corner of his mouth twitch up into a lazy smile.

“Mmh… there's a good girl.” He coos, making you bob your head up and down on his length a few times before pushing you down as far as your throat can handle, grin stretching across his face. He crosses his legs behind your head, trapping you there with his cock down your throat.

“Shame you had to be so bratty. I hate being so rough with you, baby.” He hums, watching you closely. His cock throats in your mouth as he watches you choke and splutter around it. Your eyes are wide with panic, the breaths you're sucking in through your nose not filling your lungs up. Can't suck them all the way in with his fat cock blocking your airwaves.

His legs tighten around you head, just so he can watch the way you claw desperately at his thighs, scratching at the jeans he never bothered to fully take off. He loves seeing the way tears drip down your cheeks, wet trails staining your pretty face.

“You look so cute when you cry, princess.” He says sweetly, his hand brushing through your hair gently as if he isn't forcing you to choke on his length. Your panties are already soaked, sticky with your arousal as Leon starts to thrust shallowly.

After a moment, he's loosening his legs, spreading them again and pulling you off of him. Tilts his head as you choke and splutter, drool dripping down your chin and throat, your face a complete mess.

He lets you catch your breath before he's thrusting into your mouth a few more times until he feels the tension build in his stomach. He cums all over your pretty tongue without warning, pulling out for the final few spurts to coat your face. You swallow eagerly, moaning quietly at the taste.

“You think my other girl is cryin’ for me, too?” He asks with a grin, thumb rubbing the tears off your face before his gaze lowers, dragging along your thighs as you kneel between his legs.

You nod slowly, looking up at him through wet lashes that have clumped together slightly, your lips swollen and slick with spit and cum. “Yeah, daddy. Been needing you all day.”

“Shame I can't help you with that, sweetie. I told you, I have to get my report done today.” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he puts on a fake sympathetic look. He pats your head once, turning away from you and facing his work again, tucking his cock into his pants as he tries to bite back a smile.

He doesn't even spare you a glance, just shifts slightly in his seat, squinting as he reads the document on his computer, trying to remember where he left off, leaving you wet and needy, kneeling at the side of his chair.

After a few minutes, he speaks up, clearly pleased you're no longer disrupting his work. “If you keep that up, I'll make sure it's worth it when I've finished up here. Just be a good girl for me, alright, sweetheart?”

He ends up leaving his report half finished when you look up at him with those damn puppy dog eyes again, fucking you into the mattress until you're finally satisfied.

After all, he's always been weak when it comes to you.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut

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gojodarling · 9 months ago

Text

sweet like sin ⤑ toji fushiguro | m

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: ❝ there’s nothing, toji thinks, that is as sweet as fucking his children’s babysitter in the bed he shares with his wife ❞ non-curse au. infidelity au. pwp.

❥ pairing: dilf!toji x babysitter!reader ❥ genre: fluff ∴ smut ❥ word count: 11k

⤑ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: daddy dom!toji, sub!reader, big cock!toji, toji is a fucking tease, teasing, corruption kink, dirty talk, rough nipple play, marking, degradation, finger sucking, toji is a fucking pussy tease and i’ve had enough!!!, pussy eating, hair pulling, pussy spanking, clit sucking/biting, orgasm control, gagging with underwear, toji fucks ur pussy with his tongue <3, face riding, crying, delayed orgasm, overstimulation, squirting, wet & messy sex, begging, reader is such a lil crybaby, choking, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, minor pain kink, size kink, rough sex, deep dicking, breeding kink, creampie

⤑ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: cheating, age gap (reader is 22, toji is 36)

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: does this have any business being this late? no. do i have any excuse? also no !

⏤ read it on ao3 here

“Almost done, Gumi?” you ask, smiling softly at the eight-year-old boy sitting in front of you.

With a stoic face, Megumi spoons the last chunk of ice cream into his mouth before nodding his head. You grin at the boy, your chair scraping against the floor as you stand up and approach him. Grabbing his bowl, you walk over to the kitchen and quickly rinse it clean, before stashing it away in a cupboard, hiding any evidence of the late night—well late for an eight-year-old—snack.

“Come on, Gumi, let’s get you to bed before your parents get home, yeah?” you say, walking back towards the dining table where Megumi is still sitting, staring stone-faced at you.

Just as he nods and moves to slide off of the chair, you both hear the familiar sound of keys clinking, followed by the door rattling. You and Megumi still, your eyes widening as you realise that one of Megumi’s parents has returned home. For a brief moment, you see a look of nervousness cross his face, the expression breaking through his usual detached façade. If it were any other circumstance, you’d internally cheer at the emotion that paints his countenance; since you met him, you’d always thought Megumi was far too unemotional for an eight-year-old.

Nonetheless, you can’t celebrate the rare occasion of feeling from the child, not when you realise you’re both about to be caught. It’s almost half past nine, and as far as Hisano, Megumi’s stepmother, is concerned, Megumi’s bedtime is eight, Tsumiki’s at half past eight. Luckily, you had tucked the ten-year-old into bed already, Tsumiki having finished her ice cream first. Truth be told, the only reason Megumi was still awake was because he had asked for another helping of ice cream, but being full from his first bowl, he had taken much longer than you’d anticipated to finish off his second one.

The front door slams open all of a sudden, causing you to jump while Megumi’s visage slips into its usual aloofness, any prior hint of trepidation completely disappearing. You watch as Toji’s hulking form walks through the doorway and into the living space, and momentarily, relief washes through you too. In your few months of babysitting the Fushiguro's—in a bid to ease your undergraduate tuition fees—you’d quickly come to learn the dynamic between the two parents—Toji is the more carefree one, typically allowing the kids to do what they wanted, leading Hisano to be the stricter, more rule-abiding parent. And from the few times you’d been at their residence while the parents were home, either as they left for or returned from work, you’d known that that very dynamic had caused a multitude of arguments between them.

From the open plan design of the living space, Toji immediately spots you and Megumi in the small corner that is the dining room. Flinging his heavy bag onto the couch, he looks at Megumi and quirks his eyebrow.

“Whatcha still doing up, kid?” Toji questions.

“Wanted ice-cream,” Megumi deadpans.

Toji turns his gaze toward you, and instantly, another type of nervousness floods you. Briefly, his eyes rake over your form, and all of a sudden, you feel far too exposed in your short skirt. Toji’s gaze always feels predatory, a starving wolf stalking its prey; you shuffle from foot to foot under his heavy observance.

“Where’s Miki?” Toji questions. You pull your lower lip between your teeth and gnaw at it, Toji’s eyes immediately drawn to the gesture.

“She’s in bed,” you answer.

“Yer not s’pposed to have ice cream before bed, Megs,” Toji attempts to scold, turning back to Megumi. Nonetheless, from his nonchalant timbre, you know he doesn’t truly care. In fact, if the knowing smirk on his scarred lips, or the twinkle in his jade eyes, is anything to go by, he’s amused.

“Tsumiki had some too, I just had more,” Megumi rolls his eyes. You swallow thickly in an attempt to loosen your constricted throat before licking your lips.

“It’s my fault, Mr Fushiguro. I’m supposed to be looking after them and I shouldn’t have allowed them to have any ice cream. I also should have put Megumi to bed already,” you apologise with a slight bow of your head. Toji’s lips twist lazily, your skin pricking with heat at the wolfish grin that colours his visage.

Guilt gnaws at your insides, your stomach roiling when you feel the tell-tale heat of desire flare between your thighs. Here you were, caught red-handed disobeying two of the clear instructions from Hisano, yet turned on by—and insanely attracted to—the woman’s husband. There’s a special place in hell for you, you’re sure.

“‘T’s alright, doll,” Toji drawls.

You stiffen at the pet name, your stomach churning. Seldom does Toji call you by any form of endearment, though, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice he only did it when his wife was nowhere to be found.

“What Hisano doesn’t know won't hurt her,” Toji continues.

You’re imagining it, you’re sure you are, but for a fraction of a second, you could swear that Toji’s voice is purposely lower, the already deep baritone gravelly with fervour.

“Can be our little secret, right Megs?” Toji grins, his gaze flicking back to his son.

In a rare display of affection, Megumi hops off the chair and runs to his father, hugging his leg tight. Toji stills, his eyes widening in the slightest. The gesture shocks you too, neither you nor Toji are used to witnessing such acts from Megumi. Usually, the boy was overtly ornery, in a way you didn’t think should be possible for a child so young.

Toji manages to pull himself together, awkwardly patting his son’s head. You can’t help but giggle at the way Megumi’s spiky hair sticks out between Toji’s fingers, his large hands almost dwarfing Megumi’s entire head.

“Take him to bed, will ya princess? Before this is no longer just our secret, yeah?” Toji says, looking over at you once again. Heat stains your cheeks when he winks at you. You avert your gaze, and instead, return your attention to Megumi.

“Come on, Gumi,” you call, holding your hand out for the little boy.

Megumi, as though realising what he’s done, hastily lets go of Toji’s leg, almost as if he’s been burned. His reaction has both you and Toji chuckling, Megumi’s countenance morphing into a scowl. You grin down at him and lead him to his bedroom. As you walk away, you feel the burning sensation of Toji’s tumultuous gaze.

Unabashed, Toji openly stares at your ass, relishing in the way the hem of your skirt brushes against the tops of your thighs. It’s just long enough to be considered decent, but Toji is also all too aware that if you leant forward in the slightest, he’d get a tantalising view of your lower ass cheeks. He can’t help the way his cock stirs, his mind envisioning the sight of you bent over in front of him, your skirt hiked up high as you look behind at him with your large, innocent eyes.

He knows it’s wrong, depraved, sinful, the way he fantasises of you on your knees, with tears in your eyes and his cock buried in your throat, the sounds you’d make when he makes you cum all over his tongue; the glassy, fucked-out look in your eyes when his cock first enters your cunt.

He knows he could make them a reality, knows from the way you sneak glances at him in the moments you think he’s not looking, knows from the nervousness that clouds your demeanour as you shy away from him; knows from the way he’s caught the almost—but not quite—imperceptible way you rub your thighs when he speaks.

Yes, Toji is convinced he could have you if he really wanted to.

And he really, really wanted to.

Once you’ve finally put Megumi to bed, you exit his bedroom and quietly shut his door. Back in the living space, you look around in confusion, a frown marring your face when Toji is nowhere to be seen.

“Mr Fushiguro?” You call out. When you receive no response, your frown deepens.

Momentarily, your eyes flicker to the master bedroom and, with trepidation churning in your stomach, you carefully approach the shut door. For a few seconds, you simply stare at the wooden surface. It’s not the first time you’ve been in the room Toji shares with Hisano—Tsumiki had once hid in her parents’ wardrobe while the three of you were playing hide and seek—and it’s not like you’ve been forbidden from entering—Hisano had been very welcoming when you’d met her the first time as her children’s babysitter.

Still, you’ve never been in the room when either Toji or Hisano were home. And knowing that Toji—a man you’ve secretly harboured illicit feelings for—could be behind the doors, doing god knows what, has your mind wandering to forbidden, lecherous territory.

“Mr Fushiguro, Megumi is asleep now so I’m leaving,” you call out as you knock on the door. You still receive no answer. Pulling your lip between the teeth, you chew on it before knocking once again.

“Mr Fushiguro?” you call once more.

When you still do not receive an answer, you gather your courage and slowly open the door, peeking your head in. From the slight sliver, Toji is nowhere to be found once again. Your eyebrows knit together and, growing bolder, you push the door open wider and enter.

Instantly, you’re assaulted by the scent of Toji—a heavy, musky fragrance intertwined with fresh notes of citrus and earthen notes of pine. It’s laced with something more feminine, the hint of sweet florals overpowered by the raw, intoxicating masculinity that is Toji. You suck in a sharp breath, stifling a moan when you inadvertently breathe him deeper.

“Mr Fushiguro?” you call out to nothing, your voice dampened by a mix of your own lust and nerves.

Your eyes scan around the room, landing on the queen-sized bed that takes up the majority of the space. It shouldn’t, logically you know it shouldn’t, but the sight of Toji and Hisano’s shared bed has your stomach stirring in envy. Toji is Hisano’s husband, the stepfather of her daughter, the father of her stepson. You have no claim to him, no right to feel the inkling of jealousy that stains your being.

You know that, logically.

But the reality is, you are envious.

Toji may be married, to your employer no less—Hisano being the one who paid you your weekly fee—but that doesn’t stop the adulterous desire that floods your bloodstream at the thought of him. Doesn’t stop you from closing your eyes and imagining him—his fingers, his tongue, his cock—when you touch yourself every night before bed. Doesn’t stop you imagining him throwing you onto his bed, fucking you in the same place he sleeps with his wife.

It’s wrong. You know it is. But you can’t help it, the indecent, debauched way in which you crave him.

“Whatcha doing here, dollface?” Toji’s husky timbre breaks through your reverie. You jump, adrenaline surging through your veins as you whip around to face him.

You regret it instantly. Face to face with Toji, your mouth goes dry at his current, unexpected, state of dress.

Or well, undress.

He stands before you, clad in nothing but a black towel. Water drips from his hair onto his neck and, entranced, you follow their motion, your eyes inadvertently tracing the contours of his body: the thick knot of his Adam’s apple, the corded musculature of his shoulders, the hardened definition of his pectorals. Stray droplets trail further down, over his rigid abdomen and into the material that wraps around his slim hips. You stop there, your gaze honing in on his covered thighs and hidden shaft. Unwittingly, you swallow thickly.

“Whatcha doing here, princess?” Toji repeats. Shaken out of your stupor, your eyes snap to his.

“Megumi is a-asleep,” you begin, only to waver when Toji takes a deliberate step forward.

“Ah, the kids are all in bed?” Toji questions, his lips curling into a devilish smirk. The impossible low baritone of his voice rumbles through the air, each reverberation a live wire straight to your core. Clearing your throat, you inhale a deep, steadying breath.

“Y-Yes, so I’m leaving n-now.” You grimace internally when your voice falters once more. Toji’s smirk widens into a predatory grin, his eyes flashing with barely concealed desire.

“You sure that’s whatcha wanna do, dollface?” Toji questions.

Your breath hitches in your throat, your heart thundering within the confines of your rib cage. Still, you somehow find it in yourself to nod.

“You sure?” he taunts.

“Y-Yes, Mr Fushiguro,” you reply. Against your better judgement, for the briefest moment, you glance at the towel wrapped around him, only for your sex to clench when you notice the tented material.

“Like what you see, baby?” Toji hums. The back of your neck prickles, the tips of your ears flushing with heat.

“N-No,” you stammer out, your voice hoarse.

“Hmm. I think you do,” Toji goads. He takes another step forward, your body instinctively taking one back.

“N-No,” you try to refute a second time. Your denial only has Toji laughing.

“Liar,” he sneers. The derisive way in which he spits out the word causes you to whimper, a gush of wetness leaking out of your pussy and into your quickly dampening panties. “You want me, I know you do,” comes Toji’s jeer.

Your hands turn clammy, a cold sweat sweeping through you. No. No, he couldn’t know.

He can’t know.

“I-I don’t,” you rebut. Toji takes another step forward and, on shaky knees, you take one back.

“You do**.** I’ve seen the way you look at me, seen the way those pretty thighs rub together every time I speak,” Toji admits.

Despair flushes through you at the revelation. You had tried your hardest to keep your attraction to the man hidden away. Though, it seemed like your best efforts had failed you. Toji knew**.**

“Dirty little girl, lusting after a man almost twice her age,” Toji gibes.

As he speaks, he deliberately saunters over to you, his entire disposition exuding imposing waves of smug dominance. With each step he closes the distance between you, your own feet moving on shaky limbs as you try to futilely widen it. Within short moments, however, the back of your knees hits the edge of the bed. You don’t expect to come into contact with the bed frame and, with a surprised gasp, you fall over. Your back hits the mattress with a slight bounce, your eyes widening as you stare up at Toji’s looming figure.

Diopside eyes—tumultuous with unbridled hunger—rake over your figure, from your heaving chest, to your slightly parted thighs. Seeing the way your skirt rides up, a hint of lilac peeking through your thighs, Toji groans. One of his large, vascularised hands reaches out and drops to your thigh, the flesh flashing with heat under his touch. Languidly, his fingertips flit up your limb, until you feel the pads graze over your panty-clad sex.

“You always look so pretty in these short little skirts. You wore them for me, didn’t cha, doll? Wore them so you could tease me, flash me the barest hint of that cute ass and get me all riled up.” The knuckles of his fingers brush over the gusset of your underwear in long, teasing strokes, your clit viciously throbbing under his touch.

“Mr Fushiguro, w-we should stop,” you attempt to reason, desperately clinging onto your conscience. But mind addled by desire, the tethers of your morality quickly begin to fray. Against your better judgement, your thighs part further open, offering Toji’s fingers further access to your heated, dewy folds. The action has Toji’s eyes flashing; a hum of approval tremors through his chest.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby. Soaked through these cute panties,” Toji murmurs, his eyes dropping to the apex of your thighs.

Ravenous, he devours the sight of the darkening silk. Toji’s pupils dilate, his juniper irises blackening with fervid hunger at the wet patch, the darkened spot growing as your cunt drools your arousal. Fingers moving over it, your breath catches when you feel the tips of his digits press into your entrance.

“You wore these for me too, didn’t cha, princess?” Toji questions, his eyes flicking up to yours. Mesmerised by them—the vibrant hue having darkened to a deep shade of emerald—you find yourself swept away by their imperious undertow.

“M-Mr Fushiguro—” you begin. Toji tuts, a frown marring his face.

“It’s Toji, baby,” he interjects. Then, his frown morphing, he smirks at you, “Or Daddy, if you prefer.”

“Mr Fushiguro,” your emphasis on his surname is insistent, Toji only chuckling at your futile defiance. “You’re married,” you continue. You may be speaking to Toji, but the reminder is more for you than anything else. Toji has a wife and whatever this is, is wrong.

Toji disregards your statement with a simple, dismissive chuckle, “Do you know how hard you make my cock, huh, doll? How many times I’ve fucked my hand, my pocket pussy, my wife, imagining it was your tight, pretty little cunt instead?”

A scandalised gasp escapes you, your eyes widening at the admission. It’s wrong, the way your mind immediately flashes to how you have imagined the same—that it was Toji’s thick cock inside of you rather than your thin bullet vibrator. It’s immoral, the way your cunt viciously clenches, your wetness leaking out of you as your body practically yearns, weeps for him. It’s a sin, the way your morals willingly, and readily, crumble under Toji’s tenacious seduction.

“But your wife—” you begin, only for Toji to cut you off once more.

“What my wife doesn’t know, won’t hurt her, will it baby? Can be our little secret,” he repeats his words from earlier in the night. Though this time, the secret is heavier, less harmless. This time, it doesn’t cloak a meaningless broken rule. This time, it conceals an illicit affair, one that you know could break a marriage.

“T-Toji, we shouldn’t,” you attempt one last rebuff. Your voice is as weak as your protest, and from the use of his first name, Toji knows he’s won.

“But you want to, don’t you, baby?” Toji coaxes. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you chew on it as you avert your gaze. Then, you nod your head.

“Y-Yes,” you whisper. Your concession is barely audible, your words just a decibel above a whisper. Nonetheless, in the silence of the night, Toji hears it clearly. A triumphant smirk crawls onto his lips, his eyes flashing with victory.

“Yes, what, baby?” Toji urges. Hesitancy floods your eyes and you release your lower lip, choosing to gnaw at the flesh of your inner cheek instead.

“Yes, Daddy,” you quietly answer, shyly looking at him through the thick of your lashes.

“Fuck, you’re a sin, baby,” Toji swears.

In an instant, Toji pounces on you.

You barely have time to think straight as you feel the dip on either side of your hips, Toji’s hulking body caging yours. Gripping your chin in one hand, he angles your face to look at him, and then, his lips descend onto yours. He’s rough and bruising, your eyes slipping shut as you moan into him. Without any warning, his teeth bite down on the swollen fold of your lower lip, causing you to gasp out. Toji uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

The silky appendage glides inside your mouth, curling and twisting in frenzied motions as it lashes against your tongue. Spice fills your mouth, his flavour coats your taste buds and you lose yourself in the intoxicating sensation that is Toji’s kiss. He’s voracious, dominating you in a way only he could, his mouth ferocious as it moves over your own. With a few moments, however, your lungs blaze with the need for oxygen and, with a gasp, you tear your lips away from him. Undeterred, Toji kisses his way along your jaw and towards the bottom of your ear, suckling the supple flesh.

“Toji—Fuck,” you mew, your hands curling into his shirt.

“Uh-uh. It’s Daddy now, dollface,” Toji tuts. Fervent fingertips skim up your body, goosebumps prickling under your flesh from the touch, before Toji grips your shirt and divests it off of you. Seeing your bare tits come into view, he quirks an eyebrow.

“No bra? You were practically begging for it, weren’t ya, princess? Wanted me to see these little nipple sticking out your clothes when you’re wet and horny for me, didn’t cha?” Toji belittles. You cower from his gaze and seeing your bashfulness, Toji snickers.

Shifting above you, Toji grips the hem of your skirt before pulling it down your body, haphazardly flinging it onto the floor. He climbs back onto the bed, your thighs reflexively spreading to accommodate him. Left in nothing but your panties, Toji’s eyes deliberately rove over your body and he growls in approval at the lilac undergarment.

“And you definitely wore this for me, didn’t ya, baby?” Toji questions once again, a playful lilt in his voice. You swallow thickly and nod your head, heat flushing across your face.

“Yes,” you whisper, confirming his suspicion.

“Dirty girl, bet you wanted me to fuck you since the day you started babysitting my kids, huh?” Toji taunts. You avert your gaze once again before nodding shyly. “God, you’re fucking filthy. Is this what you wanted?” He unravels the towel from around his waist, leaving him naked.

His cock springs up with a little bounce, your throat drying as it comes into view. You’d always known Toji would be large just from his enormous, bulky physique and you’d spent countless nights imagining just how big he’d be, how he’d stretch you out with a delicious burn. But face to face with it, you realise he’s nowhere close to your imagination. He’s just a little longer the average, the tip sitting a little under his belly button, but it’s his girth that really has your eyes widening. He’s thick, impossibly and absurdly thick, almost the same width as your wrist.

Swallowing thickly, you look up at him, a hint of fear occulting the wanton desire that hazes your eyes. “I-It’s not going to fit,” you stammer.

Toji chuckles mockingly, “It’ll fit doll, I’ll make sure it does.”

The threat is barely concealed, and though it should terrify you, it doesn’t. Rather, your stomach roils with salacious hunger, another gush of wetness leaking out of your cunt. Spreading your thighs further apart, Toji pushes his hips to yours, your eyes rolling back when you feel his pulsating member press flush against your core.

“Fuck! Daddy,” you moan, feeling him grind his hard shaft into your pussy.

The skimpy material of your panties hinders nothing and you feel him, hot and pulsing, through the material. Instinctively, you begin grinding back into him, your hips writhing together in frantic movements while you lose yourselves into pleasure.

“You’re so fucking hot and—fuck—wet,” Toji gasps out.

His hands curl into your hips, fingers digging into the flesh as he pushes his cock harder into you. Precum drips out of his cockhead, the translucent substance saturating into your underwear and mixing with your own juices. When the blunt tip grazes against your throbbing clit, your spine curves off of the bed, your eyes rolling in pleasure. Reflexively, your hips buck, the movement forcing your core harder against him.

“Fuck yes, baby. Just like that. So fucking wet and needy. Shit—ha—so wet, can feel you soak my cock through those cute little panties,” Toji exhales heavily, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly.

“T-Toji,” you whine.

In one fell swoop, Toji’s head dips down. His lips wrap around your nipple, before he bites down harshly, roughly tugging the hardening bud with his teeth. The action tears a cry from your throat, tears stinging your eyes at the pain.

“What did I say, naughty girl? It’s Daddy,” Toji reprimands.

“D-Daddy,” you gasp, your face flushing with heat. Toji bites down once again, your chest automatically pushing up into his face at the sudden pain that flares around your breast.

Toji smirks, “You like when I bite these pretty nipples, huh doll?” His voice reverberates against your skin, a mew spilling from your lips.

He presses the flat of his tongue just under your nipple before laving up in one, long lick. The wet appendage strokes the indurated bud, causing it to twist—almost painfully—harder while you groan under him. You’re so wet now that your panties uncomfortably stick to your folds, the material sodden with a mix of both yours and Toji’s arousal.

“Pretty little baby, you make the sweetest sounds,” Toji coos whilst rolling your nipple between your teeth. Then, with a final, harsh bite, he releases the bud. “Wanna hear more of ‘em.” The murmuration of Toji’s vibrato against your tit has a shiver running down your spine.

Toji begins crawling his way down your body, stopping intermittently to press his lips against you. With each kiss, he bites and sucks your skin harshly, each one blooming mauve bruises over your flesh. He traces his way over your torso, from your sternum, to your abdomen, to your hips. Arriving at them, Toji’s fingertips bury into the swells, his teeth harshly tugging the skin of your left pelvis into his mouth. Sucking and biting hard, he leaves a particularly large hickey, only to pull away and admire his handiwork.

“Mmm—Look so pretty, all marked up by me. Gonna walk around campus with them, aren’t ya, princess? Let everyone know you’re a filthy little whore who got fucked by a married, older man,” Toji disparages.

It’s wrong, god you know it’s wrong, but you can’t help the way you nod your head eagerly, “Yes, Daddy.”

“Such a good little girl. Spread your legs, baby, show Daddy how wet your pussy is for me,” Toji cajoles.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you do as he asks. Laying your feet flat on the bed, your toes curl into the sheets as you bend your knees and splay your thighs further apart. Your obedience has Toji’s chest rumbling with appreciation, his eyes dropping to your cunt. Ardent gaze sweeping over your it, he takes in every inch of the panty-clad, sodden folds. Unable to help himself, he inhales deeply, his pupils dilating when the heady scent of your arousal clouds his senses.

“Fucking hell. You’re so wet I can smell you,” he growls.

The lewdness of his words has a muted squeak escaping your mouth. The heat of embarrassment claws its way up from your throat to the tip of your ears, and suddenly conscious under his gaze, you try to close your thighs. Nonetheless, before you can do so, Toji spots the movement. His large hands drop to your thighs, and pinning them down under his strength, he lets out a low growl of warning. The sound rumbles through the air and straight to your core, a gush of wetness leaking out of you.

“Try that again, dollface, and I’ll have you over my knee,” Toji threatens. You moan in response, your hips bucking into him at the thought. Seeing your reaction, a derisive smirk curls onto Toji’s scarred lips, “Like that, do you? Dirty little girl.”

Under the harshness of his words, lies a hint of affection that causes your stomach to twist, butterflies fluttering through the pits.

“D-Daddy,” you raggedly exhale, your eyes pleading with him.

“Mmm, now let Daddy see his baby’s pretty little cunt,” Toji coaxes. With that, he hooks his pointer finger under the gusset of your sodden underwear, a wet squelch filling the air. The sound has him groaning, and in one motion, he tugs hard. Instantly, the material tears, the sound of ripping fabric echoing through the air.

“Ah—Toji,” you gasp, your eyes widening as you watch him carelessly throw the tattered scraps of material onto the bed. Toji pays no attention to the reprimanding tone in your voice. Rather, his gaze is fixated on your pussy, his pupils dilating when he sees your drenched sex, the folds saturated with your juices.

“Fuck, princess. You’re already so sloppy and Daddy’s not even done anything yet.”

As he speaks, Toji presses his fingers against your folds, and then splaying his digits in a ‘V’, he spreads your cunt open wider. Then, using his free hand, he explores your sex: tracing the outline of your engorged, throbbing clit, down the glistening folds of your pussy, and towards the leaking rings of muscle that make up your entrance. Continually repeating the motions, he strokes his digits through your cunt, wetting the lengths in your arousal.

The teasing motions of Toji’s feathery touch as he plays with your cunt slowly drives you wild, pleasure coiling within your womb. With each stroke of his fingers, thick, filmy ropes of your juices cling to his digits, the strings thinning as he pulls them away. With rapt fascination, Toji watches as they snap, splashing back onto your drenched hole. When he’s sufficiently coated his fingers in your wetness, he slowly pulls away. Raising his slick fingers to his face, Toji’s eyes glint with mischief.

“Such a wet little pussy, you’ve soaked my fingers too, baby,” Toji purrs, unable to hide the glee in his voice. Lifting his hand up, he brings it over to your mouth. The pads of his fingertips brush against them, coating your lips in a thin sheen of your own arousal.

“Taste how needy you are. Suck,” he commands.

Instantly, you obey.

Slowly, your lips part open, only to wrap around his pointer and middle finger. Keeping your gaze locked on his, you begin to suckle. Your tongue swirls around his digits, and hollowing out your cheeks, the lengths press against your warm flesh. The vacuum-like suction has Toji moaning in appreciation.

“Such a good little bitch for me,” Toji praises. His fingers retreat from your mouth with a pop and instead, his hands drop to rest on your thighs once more.

Tongue darting out, Toji licks a broad line up through your folds, from your pulsating hole all the way to your throbbing clit. Your arousal coats the hollow of his tongue, the heady essence glazing his palate. Soft groan rumbling from within his chest, Toji presses the silken appendage flat onto your sex, relishing in the juices that spill from your cunt and onto his palate.

“Fuck, knew you’d taste sweet,” Toji mutters. As his cool breath fans across your heated folds, a shiver runs down your spine. Swiping his tongue through your cunt once more, he savours your taste with a low groan, “Knew you’d be sweeter than my wife.” His words reverberate through your clit, the vibrations sending sparks of electric pleasure up your nerves.

“D-Daddy,” you mew with a stutter.

Emboldened, he presses two of his sticky digits against your dewy lips and once more parts them. Splaying your cunt under the motion, he bares your throbbing clit and quivering hole to his view once again, watching the way they pulse.

“Awww, look how wet and swollen your needy little cunt is,” he hums. With how close he is to your pussy, each word he utters causes his scarred lips to teasingly graze against your tumescent bundle of nerves.

Breath turning ragged, your fingers card into his raven tresses, entangling them at his roots. Gripping his hair, you attempt to pull him further into your cunt, your hips simultaneously bucking into his face. Toji chuckles and wraps his lips around your clit before he lightly suckles the engorged bud. Fingers tightening in his hair, you tug his head once again, and encouraged by the action, Toji circles your clit with agile strokes. Head digging into the mattress, your back arches at the ministration, a shallow gasp escaping your mouth.

“Daddy, please,” you moan, the hollow sound resonating through the air.

Without warning, Toji points his tongue and begins tracing the outline of your sex: around your bundle of nerves, down the petals of your folds, and towards the honeyed entrance of your pussy. Skin flashing, heat prickles over your skin, your blood boiling as he begins tonguing the trembling ring of your cunt in languid strokes. Suddenly, he flattens his tongue against the hole, and with a broad swipe, he licks all the way up to your clit. Whorling his silken appendage around the bud, he wraps his plump lips around it and bites down on the swollen bundle. The sudden pleasure has you shrieking out his name, the words coming out louder, and higher pitched, than you’d intended.

Toji pulls away from you and “Be quiet, princess. Or you’ll wake my kids,” he warns.

Moving to enclose his lips around your engorged bud once again, his tongue lashes against your clit repeatedly, his teeth occasionally against it and causing you to croon his name. Under his ministrations, the walls of your core clench painfully, emphasising the emptiness between them.

“Please, Daddy m-more,” you beg, your hips rocking against him.

Toji releases your clit at your plea, and with one hand still splaying your folds open, he uses the other to trace the slick, twitching opening; your breath hitches in response. Lightly dipping the tip of his pointer finger into you, “Is this what you want, dollface?” he asks with a mocking coo.

Feeling the infuriatingly subtle stretch, you frantically nod your head. Unimpressed with your answer, however, Toji’s fingers move to roughly pinch your clit.

“Tell me what you want,” he commands. Pain coalesces with ecstasy at the harsh action, the juxtaposing sensations setting your nerves afire. Liquid lust surges through your abdomen, the sear of pleasure that swirls in your stomach making you cry out with need.

“W-Want your fingers,” comes your pitiful response, your eyes stinging with tears.

“That’s my pretty baby,” Toji praises. With that, he plunges one finger hilt deep into you. Feeling the sudden stretch, your eyes snap open. A strangled moan of pleasure rips from your throat, the sound morphing into a low mewl when he begins twisting the length inside of you. Back arching at the sensation, you cry out his name.

Suddenly spanking your pussy, “I said quiet,” he seethes with a hiss. Pulling his finger out, Toji plunges it back inside, revelling in the way your slick, pliant walls cling to his digit.

“Fuck, this is such a tight cunt,” he groans.

Curling his digit into you, he explores his finger through your slick, velvet walls, and when a jagged moan emanates from your lips, he knows he’s found what he’s looking for. Pads of his fingertip pressing flat against the spongy tissues, he wiggles his finger against your sweet spot.

“O-Oh god,” you shakily breathe out, your eyes fluttering open and shut. Molten pleasure intensifies into a blistering heat within the pit of your stomach and, thighs beginning to shake on either side of his head, your breath turns ragged.

“P-Please,” you choke out.

“Yeah, you like that, pretty baby? Like when Daddy fingers this tiny little hole?” he hums, the deceptively sweet intonation hiding the dark, imperious undertow of his voice.

You open your mouth to respond, only for the words to morph into a garbled cry when Toji pushes his finger deeper into you. Slowly, he begins pistoning the digit into you, the strokes slow and deep. With each thrust, his finger drags against your g-spot, causing ecstasy to blur your vision.

“Daddy, p-please! Wanna—ha—make me—ah!” Your pleas are choked, each broken by a breathy moan.

Despite your best efforts to articulate your wants, Toji’s incessant fingers make it impossible for you to form coherent sentences. On the cusp of your approaching orgasm, ecstasy burns through your bloodstream. As the rattling of your thighs intensifies beside him, however, Toji is abruptly pulling his drenched finger out of you.

Distraught over the sudden retreat of his digits, “N-No,” you cry, your hips wildly thrashing under him as you pitifully attempt to chase his hands. Painfully, your walls clench around nothing, and feeling your growing orgasm start to subside, tears mist your eyes.

“Quiet,” Toji hisses, his eyes gleaming dangerously. Under him, you heave for air, your eyes screwing shut as you shake your head and thrust your hips into his face.

“Wanna cum. Daddy, please, wanna cum,” you sob.

His scarred lips twist into a sardonic smirk before Toji spanks your cunt once more. The moment his hand meets the soaked flesh of your cunt, a wet slap echoes through the air. Toes curling at the harsh impact, you sob dryly.

“If you don’t shut up, I’ll gag you,” he threatens.

As he speaks, he repeatedly brings the palm of his hand down onto your tumid clit, and with each slap, your cunt clenches around nothing. Nerves electrified from his spanks, your hands fall from his hair and down to the mattress beside you. Your fingers twist into the sheets, your frustration building as you grow delirious from his action. Every impact of his hand has your pussy contracting around nothing, your walls weeping to be filled. With garbled sobs, you moan unintelligibly.

“Daddy—” you begin to wail, only to be cut off when Toji stuffs your tattered panties into your mouth.

Eyes widening as you feel the satin gag, your hand moves to pull it down. Instantly, Toji brings his hand onto your cunt, this time, harder than his previous ones. Pain blends with pleasure and, clit smarting under the impact, you screech. Nevertheless, muffled by the underwear gagging your mouth, the sound comes out inarticulate.

“Be a good little girl for Daddy and keep that in, yeah baby? If you do, Daddy’ll let ya scream as much as you want, princess,” he smirks, his eyes glinting with mischief. Muffled whimper dissipating from your throat, your hand drops back to the ground, and you look at him through large, pleading eyes. Seeing the obedience in your tear-misted eyes, Toji coos, “That’s my good girl.”

With that, he dips his head back to your cunt. In a fluid motion, he pushes his slick digit back into you, though this time, it’s followed by a second. The girth of the two fingers stretches out your pliant walls, an euphoric sear thrumming through your flesh. Feeling the way he spreads your cunt open, Toji groans in pleasure.

“Fuck, you’ve got such a tiny, little cunt, princess. Daddy can’t wait to stretch it. Fuck it open. Leave it gaping with my cum,” Toji groans. Each sentiment is emphasised by a thrust of his fingers, the digits expertly stroking your sweet spot. You nod your head eagerly.

“You like that doll? Yeah, I know you do. Mmm, you’re so small… but that greedy little hole will take my cock whole, won’t it baby? You’ll take my fat dick better than my wife ever has, won’t you?” Toji mocks.

As he speaks, he spreads the fingers inside of you and opens your entrance for him. You moan at the stretch, but before you can register what’s happening, Toji plunges his stiff tongue inside of you. Eyes widening, you wail in pleasure at the sudden penetration, your spine contorting off of the ground. Frantically, you writhe your hips against his face, Toji furiously plunging his tongue into you over and over again.

“That’s it princess, ride Daddy’s face,” Toji urges, the words reverberating through your cunt. He presses further into your sex and, tongue swirling inside of you, he laps at your sodden, trembling muscles.

Ecstasy ripples across your nerves, your breath turning ragged. Lifting your shaky hands, you bury them into his thick tresses once again as your eyes roll back at his ministrations. With each contraction of your walls, you drip over his mouth, your wetness leaking thickly over his tongue and straight down his chin. Despite the messiness, however, like a beast starved, Toji drinks you up, his tongue vehemently lapping against your inner walls.

“Fuck you taste so good. This sweet cunt belongs to me, doesn’t it doll? Yeah. I know it does. Can feel you drip like a whore all over my tongue,” Toji taunts. Between the way he’s buried between your thighs, and your pleasure-blurred vision, you can’t see Toji's face. Nonetheless, you feel the way he smirks into your pussy.

Feeling the tell-tale signs of your approaching orgasm, you press your shoulders flat into the bed, and bracing your weight on them, you lift your hips and push them further into his face. At the action, Toji groans against your sex and the vibrations cause you to wildly buck into him. In response, he curls the two fingers inside of you, moving them in tandem to his tongue—all three appendages thrusting into you over and over again. Stomach quivering in pleasure, you feel your skin flash with heat.

“Toji, wanna cum,” you plead. Though, thanks to your makeshift gag, the words come out muffled and indecipherable. Still, from your ragged breath and the vice-like, erratic grip of your cunt—the silken walls practically milking his tongue—Toji knows you’re close.

“Hmmm? What’s that, baby doll? Daddy can’t understand you,” Toji taunts as he pulls away from your cunt.

A garble of displeasure emanates from your throat and your eyes screw shut as you let out a sob. Keeping his fingers inside of you, Toji languidly thrusts them in and out of you. Immediately, your quickly building orgasm slows, though, it doesn’t completely disappear. Rather, with his fingers languorously dragging over every one of your inner erogenous zones, he draws out your impending pleasure.

“My pretty little baby wants to cum?” he mocks, his eyes flashing in mirth.

A hand moves to lay the side of his thumb flat against your pulsating clit before Toji begins stroking the bud. Repetitively, it grazes your bundle of nerves and as he rolls it under the pad, your pleasure is intensified.

The additional sensation causes you to cry out—the sound swallowed by the panties gagging your mouth—as your skin prickles with spikes of white-hot pleasure. Jaw slackening, you attempt to swallow in a bid to lubricate your dry throat. However, with the cotton of your underwear soaking up all your spit, all you manage to do is choke. Instead, with a frantic nod, you wordlessly answer him, your hips desperately squirming against his hand as you try to quicken his pace.

Haze of euphoria clouding your mind, you struggle to form any cohesive thoughts as you lose yourself in your growing orgasm. Above you, Toji lets out a hum of thought, his fingers slowing down even further. Frustration wells up inside of you, and tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, you sob out his name—your mouth dry from the panties soaking up your spit—as you look up at him with an imploring gaze.

“Yeah, baby doll? Wanna cum?” he questions, a dark, predatory smirk tugging at his lips.

“P-Please,” comes your suppressed mew, the tears finally spilling from your eyes and down your cheeks. Cooing at the desperate, undone sight of you, Toji’s smirk broadens.

“Awww, look at my baby doll, crying for Daddy to make her cum,” Toji hums. Then, head dropping back to your cunt, “Cum, then. Cum for Daddy,” he commands. As he speaks, the two fingers buried inside of you curl to press against your sweet spot, and simultaneously, he wraps his mouth around your clit before sucking hard.

With his fingers plunging in and out of you vehemently, and his lips sucking harshly at your clit, Toji all of a sudden forces you off of the edge of your orgasm and straight into pleasure. Spine contorting, your head and hips dig into the mattress, while your back arches off of it. Instantly, your muscles lock, a muffled wail ripping out of your lungs as you cry out his name. Wave after wave of euphoria crashes over you, and under the sweeping tide of your orgasm, you drown in rapturous bliss. Thighs viciously trembling on either side of his face, you writhe and squirm under Toji, your hips wildly bucking into his face as ecstasy consumes you.

“Fuck, yeah. That’s it, princess. Such a good little girl, cumming all over Daddy’s fingers,” Toji praises, your walls clamping around his fingers.

Through your orgasm, Toji refuses to pull away from your pussy. Rather, he increases the intensity of his actions. His tongue lashes against your clit and his fingers piston in and out of your cunt. Pain of overstimulation gripping your over-sensitised sex, tears stream down your face as Toji nibbles on your clit, drawing out your orgasm.

Through your foggy mind—the euphoric fog of your orgasm eclipsing your mind—you vaguely register the pain that flitters through you, and thighs snapping shut, you attempt to stop him. Simultaneously, your hands move to push against his head. Nonetheless, with his head trapped by your thighs, and Toji’s own strength, he barely budges.

“Ah—Mmmm—Hnnn,” you groan inarticulately. When he strokes the pads of his fingertips over your g-spot, you sob in pleasure. The loosened knot of euphoria in your stomach tightens, and midst your orgasm, something begins building up deep within the pits of your abdomen.

Unceasingly, Toji suckles at your throbbing clit with his scarred lips and pushing his fingers further into you, he purposely drags his fingers over your sweet-spot once more, causing you to howl in pleasure. His actions cause your nerves to flare with electricity, a searing sensation surging through your bloodstream, and under the overwhelming, unadulterated pleasure, your entire body begins to tremble.

Out of the blue, Toji bites down on your clit, and jolts of pain sparking up the bundle of nerves, you immediately screech. Pain blends with pleasure, white-spots blinding your vision. Abruptly, the knot within your stomach unravels and, sudden relief flushing through your abdomen, you’re forced over the precipice of blissful ecstasy once again. Jaw slackening, your mouth falls open and your throat strains as you force out a silent cry. Your walls tighten without warning around Toji’s fingers, the forceful contractions causing pelt after pelt of your cum to squirt out of you.

“Fucking hell,” Toji mutters, his eyes widening as he feels you gush around his fingers. Thick, filmy rivers of your essence spray out of you onto his fingers and face, before splashing onto his mattress. Seeing the way your cum soaks into the sheet, Toji snickers, “Oh you’re filthy, aren’t you, baby doll? Look at you, you’ve soaked the sheets.”

“Mpf—” you try to respond, your tongue fighting against the gag to form intelligible words.

Gasping for air, your muscles erratically twitch from the sheer force of your orgasm. As your eyes flutter open, the white-spots fade, though, unshed tears still blur your vision. Taking pity on you, Toji pulls the panties from your mouth and instead throws it onto the floor. With your mouth finally free from the gag, you purposely gather spit in your mouth and swallow thickly—in a bid to soothe your dry throat.

Gaze dropping to Toji, the heat of embarrassment tinges your cheeks at the way his broad chest glistens—his skin glazed in your cum. Letting a high-pitched whine out, you bashfully look away. Sensing your humiliation, Toji chuckles.

“Look at the mess you made, princess. What am I going to tell my wife, huh? That our naughty little babysitter drenched the sheets with her cum? That it was my fingers and tongue that made her do it, hmm?” he taunts.

Each word drips out his mouth like viscous honey, each sentiment rife with lust and carnality. The mention of his wife causes your morals to voice themselves once more. Nonetheless, you’re far too inebriated by his seduction, the weak voice of your conscience stifled by your blistering desire. You gulp audibly. In the way you’re enticed—easily tempted—by him, he’s the devil himself, you’re sure of it. Yet, even with the dark edge of his intonation, you can’t help but want to give in to the hedonistic, sinful euphoria he promises.

“Please, Daddy,” comes your plea, your wide, doe-like eyes staring up at him. Heeding your words, Toji crawls up your body, your thighs spreading further apart as he settles between them.

Gripping the base of his shaft with one hand, Toji angles it towards your entrance and smacks the bulbous head against it. A loud, wet smack resonates through the air, and feeling the heavy weight of his cockhead against your wet cunt, you whine in need. Flexing his hips, slides the entire length of his cock through your slit. Your slick lips spread onto the underside of his thick girth, and with each stroke, the prominent seam of his cockhead drags against your hardened clit, causing you to moan.

“Is this what you want, princess?” Toji questions, his voice deceptively sweet.

You nod your head eagerly, “Yes, please. Please.”

“Look at you. Daddy’s pretty little baby doll. So fucked out and needy for my cock,” Toji smirks predatorily, his teeth peeking through the seam of his lips.

Jade eyes—tempestuous with hunger—lock onto your own and, while holding your stare, Toji drags his cock down your folds in one long stroke, before pressing the head at your fluttering entrance. As the crown of his bulbous cockhead pushes against your ringed entrance, you both moan. Turning his attention down to your drenched folds, Toji hisses when he spots the way your honeyed hole twitches.

“Such a small, wet, little cunt,” Toji groans. Gripping his cock tighter, he circles the head around your hole, “Fuck dollface, look at how tiny your cunt is compared to my cock. I don’t think it’s going to fit,” he chuckles.

Derision is heavy in his tone, and despite the clear taunt, you frantically shake your head. “It’ll fit, please Daddy, want you,” you whine, your hips thrusting to take him into you.

“Yeah, dollface? Think ya can take Daddy’s cock?” Toji taunts.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble.

“Yeah, baby? Think that tight cunt can fit my fat cock? Think ya can take it better than my wife?” he jeers. Your pussy clenches, the empty ache between your thighs close to torturous. Eyes welling with tears, you sob.

“I can! I can. Please, Daddy. Please,” comes your soughed pleas. Toji snickers at the desperation in your voice, one of his thumbs moving to brush a tear from your cheek.

“Ha—yer such a whore, princess, crying for my cock like this,” Toji mocks. He raises his thumb to his lips, his tongue poking out to lick the tear away. “Daddy’s pretty, needy little cockslut,” he derides.

“Daaaady,” you whine, your hips writing into his. With a wry grin, Toji begins pressing the crown of his cock against your sopping hole. A dull pressure builds up against your cunt, your eyes widening as a whimper slips through your lips at the sensation.

“Fuck. Yer gonna be so tight, princess. Have you ever had a cock this big, doll?” Toji questions. Though, from the cocky inflexion of his voice, you know he knows you haven’t.

“N-No, Daddy,” you stammer, your voice higher than you’d intended.

Your cunt is dripping, sloppy with your cum, and as such, Toji should slide easily into your entrance. Nonetheless, he struggles to thrust his head into you, his thick girth causing the taut muscles of your pussy to protest the stretch.

“Of course you haven’t, baby doll. Bet no one’s fucked this cunt open the way I’m going to,” he chuckles arrogantly. For a moment, your eyes flutter shut. Instantly, the hand wrapped around his cock moves to grip the delicate column of your neck and, fingertips squeezing against the side, he chokes you.

“Look at me. Want ya to watch as Daddy ruins this tiny hole,” he sibilates.

With a whimper, your eyes snap open and catch his stare. And in that exact moment, Toji thrusts harshly.

The force of his movement causes the mushroom-tip of his cockhead to squeeze into you with a sudden pop. Spine twisting, a dry sob tears from your throat as your back arches. Thick tears track down your cheeks, pleasure and pain surging through your body.

“D-Daddy,” you cry, the sound broken by a hiccup.

A searing ache burns ripples through your tight cunt, the ringed muscles smarting as they strain around Toji’s indurated, unforgiving shaft. Nevertheless, even through the agonising burn, an intoxicating undercurrent of pleasure thrums through you—pure ecstasy cutting the pain of your pussy being split apart by his girth.

“Fuck—Ya so pretty like this baby; crying as my cock ruins yer tiny, wet hole,” he groans.

The fingers around your throat flex, squeezing your neck firmer as he begins pushing his cock further into you. Inch by heavy, agonising inch, his unyielding hardness spears into your cunt, the thick girth of his cock pulling apart your walls. When he’s around half way into you, you let out a strangled cry, the torturous ecstasy overwhelming you. Your hands shoot out to clutch his muscular shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh.

“F-Fuck, Daddy—h-huge,” you hiccup.

Toji coos sardonically, “Still think ya can take it, princess? Hmmm? Can this sweet little cunt handle my cock?”

Your nails rake down to his pecks, leaving angry, red welts in their wake and, “Daddy,” you slur, your brain too electrified with euphoria to articulate a single sentence.

“Ha. Already fucked ya dumb, have I?” Toji ridicules.

Without a warning, his hips plunge forward. The action causes the final few inches of his cock into you, the length bottoming out to the hilt. The sudden movement has you howling, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Against your will, your cunt ripples around his cock, your inner muscles contracting and clenching around his unrelenting shaft in a bid to force out the thick intrusion. Nonetheless, with Toji’s hips pressing firmly against yours, the clamping only massages his cock. With his cock completely buried inside you now—his balls pressing flush against your wet sex—Toji halts, the hold on your throat slackening.

“Ah, fuck. Fuck, yer so fucking tight. Fuck—sweetest pussy I’ve ever fucked,” he moans, luxuriating in the silken grip of your cunt, his head falling back as it pulses around his cock.

Toji takes in the expression of agonised euphoria that paints your visage. Your eyes are glassy behind half-lids, your jaw slackened—a little bit of drool spilling out—as you pant under him. With each laboured breath, you whimper, your smarting walls stretched to their limit as you try to get used to his size. With wide blinks, you look up at him through tear-stained lashes.

“B-Better than your wife?” you ask, your voice breathless and higher pitched than you’d anticipated.

Toji groans at your words, his hips retreating before snapping back into yours as he starts thrusting into you.

“Dirty whore. Yer so naughty. But fuck—yeah, yeah,” comes his breathy response. “Even better than my wife. You’ve got the tightest, wettest cunt, princess. Such a good slut for me, taking my dick so good. Fuucckkk—” Toji groans out, each sentiment emphasised by a hard thrust.

“H-Hurts,” you whine, your palms pressing against his defined pectorals.

“Yeah? Fuck, bet it does. You’re so tight. But ya love it, don’t you dollface? Love how my cock’s fucking your tiny pussy open,” he jeers. In response, Toji’s grip on your throat tightens once more, his strength pinning you down and using his grip as an anchor as he fucks into you.

Your tits bounce from the force of his thrusts, the soft mounds bounding in little circles as he uses your pussy like a fleshlight. All of a sudden, his hand moves from your throat to paw at your tits. Moaning out, you mewl as he roughly palms at the flesh, rolling and massaging it in his large hand, his thumb mindlessly tweaking the hardened nipple.

“Hnn, yeah, Daddy,” you pant.

He swivels his hips, your spine twisting off of the bed as you feel his cockhead drag against your sweet-spot before battering into your cervix. With each and every one of his thrusts, his thick shaft opens up your walls, the velvet hardness stimulating every erogenous zone and setting your nerves afire with pleasure. Hoarse cries of ecstasy tear from your throat, his cock vehemently surging into you over and over again.

“Yeah? Yeah. Fuck, know you do princess. Can feel ya greedy little hole swallowing me,” he groans.

“Ha—Daddy,” you breathily mew.

Toji can’t help but chuckle, “That all you know now, baby doll? Huh? Only Daddy’s name?”

Somehow, you feel his pace increase, and suddenly, he’s jackhammering into you. You bounce under his cock, your body jerked up and down the mattress from the powerful force of his thrusts. Your hands move from his chest, your arms circling around his shoulders as your legs wrap around his waist, clinging onto him. The position pushes Toji deeper into you, your eyes rolling back once more as you feel his cockhead bruisingly smack against the back walls of your cunt. A throbbing pain begins intensifying deep within your womb.

“T-Too much. Too much. Daddy—deep. Too deep,” you cry. Despite your words, however, Toji continues rutting into you as he chases his own pleasure.

“Be Daddy’s good slut and take it,” Toji urges in retaliation. Feeling your walls erratically clamp around him, his chest rumbles with a groan. As his own balls start to clench, his shaft beginning to viciously throb inside of you, “Fuck. Fuck, yer so fucking tight, Princess. Gonna cum soon. You on birth control?” he questions.

“N-No,” you stutter out with a shake of your head.

“Fuck, yer gonna get impregnated tonight then, baby doll. No way Daddy’s gonna pull out a pussy this good,” Toji hisses in pleasure. Wired beyond belief, the implications and consequences of his words are lost on you. Rather, the thought of him cumming deep inside you only sets your nerves on fire, unbridled ecstasy coursing through your veins.

“P-Please,” you gasp.

“Fuck, you want that? Want my cum to fill up your fertile little womb?” Toji asks, his words punctuated by deep, hard plunges. The blunt head of his cock batters against the supple walls of your cervix, a dull ache forming within your womb and hips from the unforgiving power of his thrusts.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, please Daddy. Cum in me,” you urge, your tongue loosened by euphoria as your brain hazes with pleasure. Hearing your response, Toji chuckles, the dark sound reverberating through the air. Lowering his chest, his lips brush over your ear.

“Yeah? Wasn’t enough to babysit my kids was it, doll? You wanna have ‘em now too?” Toji growls out; punctuating his words with a sharp thrust. Feeling him surge in deeper, you sob in ecstasy; euphoric tears stinging at your eyes as you feel intense, unadulterated bliss course through your veins. Your nails rake over his flesh, each leaving deep welts all over his shoulders and chest.

“Please—Fuck, Daddy, please,” you plead. Toji chuckles once again.

“What are we gonna tell my wife, huh baby? That I fucked your tight little cunt in our bed? That yer pussy was so good, so fucking tight, that I had no choice but to cum inside? That yer cunt is better than hers and so I had to put a baby inside?” Toji mocks, a blatant taunt tainting his gravelly voice.

“Hnnn—Daddy,” you gasp.

Feeling the way your thighs tremble on either side of his hips, one of Toji’s hands slips between your thighs and, cupping your sex, he presses his thumb to your clit. Electric ecstasy jolts through you, and with the additional stimulation, you climb higher and higher towards the crux of your climax. Your thighs quake vehemently, white-hot heat jolting up your spine as you feel your orgasm tear through you.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum for Daddy,” Toji urges, punctuating his command with a well placed thrust. Unable to hold back, a strangled cry escapes from your throat as you cum around Toji’s cock.

Erratically, the walls of your cunt contract around Toji, and feeling your silken pussy constrict over his shaft, he snarls, his pace picking up. His cock surges ferociously into you, every thrust drawing out your orgasm and forcing endless wave after endless wave of ecstasy to flood your being. As your walls ripples over his cock, Toji feels his own end draw near.

“Oh fuck, yer pretty cunt’s milking my cock, doll. Fuck—gonna cum,” Toji groans, his furious rhythm becoming stuttered. Instinctively, your legs move to wrap around your Toji’s narrow waist, and hooking your ankles together, you lock his body between yours.

“C-Cum inside, Daddy,” you force out, the words strained as they escape your raw throat.

“Oh fuck,” Toji groans, his own orgasm surging through him.

Abruptly, his hips drive forward, Toji burying himself as deep into your cunt as physically possible, before he grinds into you. Rope after rope of his thick cum shoots out of his cock and against your supple cervix, flooding your gummy walls and painting them white in his essence. Through the overstimulated fog of ecstasy, you feel the torrent of his seed pour into you, your womb overwhelmed with his warmth.

While your body uncontrollably spasms—your muscles still reeling with the aftershocks of your orgasm—you slowly come to. The blunt ache of his cockhead ramming against the back walls of your pussy blends with the sharp, stinging pain of overstimulation—the overwhelming sensations setting your nerves afire.

“T-Too deep,” you rasp out. Your eyes screw shut, tears rolling down your cheek. Above you, Toji chuckles. He bends down—a strangled sob spilling from your mouth when you feel his cock push deeper into you—and licks the wet trails up.

“Gotta be this deep to get ya nice and pregnant,” comes Toji’s instant response. You moan at his words, your pussy involuntarily clenching around him. “Mmmm, such a greedy cunt, milking my cock so nicely,” Toji hums.

Gradually, you drift back to reality, the high of your climax ebbing into a post-orgasmic fog. Breath laboured, the two of you heave for air. Feeling the dryness of your throat, you swallow thickly in a bid to lubricate the strained muscles of your oesophagus. As your mind slowly clears, you feel Toji slip his cock out of you and the inescapable sensation of his cum spilling out of you hits you like a freight train.

The weight of your morals returning to you shatters your bliss and, with a gasp, you try to push him off of you. From above you, Toji quirks an eyebrow. Nonetheless, you purposely avoid his eyes. You can’t believe you’ve just slept with a married man. And not just any married man, but the man married to your employer.

Oh, if Hisano finds out, you’re so screwed.

“Woah, what’s up, Princess?” Toji asks, his forefinger and thumb angling your chin to look at him.

“I-I should go before—” you begin. The shakiness of your voice betrays your panic, though, your nerves only turn to anger when you hear Toji chuckle. Eyes snapping to his, you glare at him. Toji only smirks back.

“We’ve separated, doll. She’s not coming back. Too busy fucking her boss,” Toji says. The admission stuns you, your anger fading into incredulity. Despite the gravity of his words, his tone is light, said in a devil-may-care manner that seems out of place considering he’d just admitted to his wife’s own infidelity.

“W-What?” you whisper.

In spite of the situation, you can’t help the flicker of glee that flitters through you and, seeing the odd inkling of joy twinkle in your eyes, Toji laughs, “Like it that much, huh, doll?”

“N-No.” Heat stains your cheeks, the tips of your ears burning as you stammer out in denial.

Toji snorts in response, “Don’t lie, I know ya like me Princess,” Toji reveals. Embarrassment flushes through you and in a bid to hide from his mischievous gaze, you cover your face with your hands. Your actions only has Toji snorting once more, “Can’t play the innocent little babysitter when yer so full of my cum dollface.”

As he speaks one of his hand slips between your thighs, his thick fingers pressing against your sloppy pussy. A wet, lewd squelch fills the air as he pushes two of the digits inside you, displacing his cum from your cunt and causing it to seep out of your battered, slightly gaping hole. A jolt of pleasure surges up your spine.

“T-Toji,” you whine. Before you can say anything else, however, Toji’s fingers retreat from within your slick depths, and instead, he presses his indurated shaft against your leaking hole once more. Eyes widening, you retreat from behind the cover of your hands to stare at him in incredulity. “Again? Already?” you ask in bewilderment.

“You didn’t think once would be enough, did you baby?” he gibes. With that, he pushes the bulbous head into you, the sudden stretch causing you to wince in pain. Leaning forward, Toji runs his nose over the corner of your jaw before taking the soft flesh of your earlobe between his teeth. Nibbling lightly, he almost purrs, “Didn’t Daddy say he was gonna get his pretty little baby pregnant?”

“S-Surely you weren’t being serious?” you gasp out, the sound morphing into a deep moan when Toji thrusts his cock into your silken cavern.

“Oh, I was being very serious, doll,” Toji chuckles lowly, the sound dark and devilish. Purposely, he lowers his voice, until the sound rumbles through the silent room, the rich timbre broken only by the wet sounds of his cock slowly fucking into you, “Daddy’s gonna fuck you until that pretty little cunt is filled with cum and your cute little womb is all swollen with my seed.”

The lasciviousness of his words isn’t lost on you. It’s wrong, you know it is. You can’t get pregnant, you’re almost half Toji’s age, not to mention, you’re still at university and he already has two children. Yet, you can’t deny the sheer thrill you feel as his words sink into you. Perhaps you’d lost your mind, erotic pleasure devouring any and every remnant of logical reasoning. Perhaps Toji really had fucked you stupid. Perhaps you never had any morality, or rationale, in the first place lusting after a married, older man. Whatever it is, though, you can’t seem to care. Especially not when Toji utters his next words.

“Hell, if you’re good for me, I may even make you my pretty little wife,” Toji coos with a promise. His voice is as sweet as sin, as tempting as the devil, and unable to resist, you wholeheartedly, and wilfully, throw yourself into his seduction.

Wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, your nails dig into their corded muscles and, “Please,” you all but beg.

A wolfish grin curls onto Toji’s scarred lips and eyes glinting with wickedness, “That’s my girl,” Toji praises.

a/n: listen. i have no excuse for the depths of this depravity.

m.list

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billiedeansbitch · 7 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑)

(𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

Summary: The one where in Larissa sex life is no longer boring or Larissa took chance on a young shapeshifter who had a massive crush on her.

(AO3 link in the title)

A/n: after what it feels like a year of depression (lol) part three is finally done. (It's the longest chapter by far so buckle up)

<<PREVIOUS PART

It had been two weeks since she found out that she might be, as ridiculous as it sounded, carrying your child in her womb though she was still in the shadows of disbelief and that the results were something of an error because how? Just how…could this all make sense? Even with the results she paid hefty for wasn’t at all convincing. Were there some lessons she missed in the anatomy class that could somehow explain this phenomenon?

It felt cruel and sad, being played like this, it was her body yet it felt like it wasn’t her own. She was supposed to feel it, right? She should know like all the women who were able to predict their pregnancy by trusting their instinct—maybe her instinct wasn’t that strong enough to feel the changes going on or if there were any to begin with but her period was late. She missed it and that was enough for her to worry.

But alas, Larissa gave her mind a rest, choosing to not dwell on the matter; her days went as normal, nobody suspected anything, not even you. The sex continued, and it was great. She was living her best life…supposedly.

When morning came and the sunlight swept across the walls through the gaps of the curtains at seven in the morning on a wednesday, Larissa was up and about managing through her routine that she had so religiously been doing ever since she could remember.

The coffee was left brewing in the kitchen for later while she took her time in the bedroom, picking her clothes, the accessories she’d wear for the day, her perfume, what kind of wrist watch she was in the mood for and so on. Again, everything was normal like it should be.

Sated with the outcome of her makeup, she gave herself a once over through the mirror. She then slipped her kitten heels over her stocking clad feet, feeling them in since they were new and fresh out of the box.

Looking past her shoulders, she couldn’t help but let her eyes wander to her already made bed. Only three days ago you were lying there on your stomach, clad in nothing but her shirt that was obviously too big, swallowing your form until the tops of your thighs as you “innocently” read a book from her shelf.

It could have fooled her by the way the space between your brows creased but upon seeing the cover was turned upside down she knew you were only doing it for show or maybe you were bored out of your mind that your last resort to ease yourself was by doing something remotely childish.

Larissa made it a point to tell you that you were “reading” it wrong as she crossed her bedroom to grab a set of underwear from her drawer to which you told her that it was on purpose, that you were testing out how far you could read them upside down. She hummed, a smile unfurling on her lips. The woman was inexplicably drawn to you that even this did nothing to change her mind about you.

She let you be, hearing your soft murmurs in the background as she slid some clothes on. It was funny to think that only half an hour ago you were rearranging her insides and whispering filthy things into her ear making her own cum spill down the bedsheets. God, she was missing you already and there was no way she was able to deny it by the way she felt her chest squeezed.

The kitchen smelled like coffee when she entered the space, its aroma was so rich it nearly made her salivate. She needed it to start with her day knowing well that her body required it to function and stay alert, yet in the midst of pouring herself a cup, Larissa halted feeling a strange turn in her stomach and put the pot down. What little she had poured was wasted away in the sink.

Instead, she grabbed something to snack on: a mix of nuts that she had been liking as of late. She then left the house early and opted for a concoction of fresh blended fruit juice as well as two medium sized blueberry muffins from the roadside cafe on her way to Nevermore, she also ordered a loaf of their special banana bread with the intention to share it with the Nevermore staff and a slice for her, too, just incase she got hungry in the middle of work which she often did these past few days.

–

“Good morning, Principal Weems.” Enid, ever the sweet girl she was, greeted Larissa in the hallway on her way to the teacher’s lounge holding the goodies in one hand as the other held her drink.

The bounce in Enid’s step was enough for the woman to feel sort of amused. She reciprocated the smile and she greeted her, too.

“You look glowing, Principal Weems.” The younger woman chirped, still smiling. Larissa felt blush creeped to her cheeks. It wasn’t odd for Enid to rain people with compliments, it was actually her brand, and Larissa wasn’t a stranger to it as she, herself, had received it plenty of times yet she found herself dumbfounded particularly by this one. Her, glowing? Of course, she kept her appearance as sophisticated as one could muster while running an entire school of outcasts but glowing? No amount of makeup or creams or moisturisers she lathered her skin with could make her glow unless Enid was lying. Or buttering her up for something she wanted to ask as a favour from her later.

Before the woman could react, Enid was saying goodbye and breezed past her to catch up with her friends in the end of the hallway.

She brushed it off and headed to the teacher’s lounge.

This time it was the new professor who complimented her whilst taking a slice of banana bread for herself. Larissa could only stand right there and smile.

One by one they all had their piece, the last one to grab was Professor Vladimir, moaning when he took a bite. Larissa felt pleased by everyone's reactions, it was as if she baked it herself.

The little nudge on her arm pried her mind off of her thoughts, it was Professor Vladimir eyeing her, it was something that let Larissa know that she should leave now or she’d have to put up with his teasing.

“What’s the special occasion?” He had this irritating habit of wiggling his eyebrows up and down while he gave her smile that was just as ridiculous. “Had a good lay, Rissy?” She knew that nickname was coming and yet she had the audacity to be shocked and eyed him dirty.

“Do me a favour and shut your mouth, Vlad.” It was spoken discreetly low that only he could hear it. Looking around, Larissa felt eased seeing everyone was busy conversing amongst themselves.

Alexander Vladimir was her friend, a gay guy that had this exceptionally good facial harmony even with the moustache that made Larissa want to shave it off herself. They had been friends since their own time at Nevermore, and now, here they were, still friends though Larissa doubted it wouldn’t be for long if he kept pestering her with his comments about you. (Oh yes, he knew about you.)

It all started when he caught you one afternoon creeping out in the hallway, Larissa’s lipstick smeared on your skin and hair was a little bit tousled. It wasn’t rocket science to figure that you were both fucking, he could never judge one’s happiness. He had taken so much pride knowing something else not many were privy to. It made him lose his goddamn mind and since then he never stopped harassing her with questions and teasing.

And although Larissa wasn’t ready to spill her secrets out, it oddly felt good to finally talk about you, to have someone listen to her as she gushed over and over how amazing you were as a person but of course it didn’t all happen in one seating during tea time. He coaxed her out of it and in return, he divulged his recent rendezvous with the groundskeeper. To this day, Larissa felt traumatized from all the information her friend should have kept all to himself.

“Tell me, love, have you done anal? Or sixty-nine ‘cause girl, you are fucking glowing. You aren’t keeping her hostage under your desk or tied to your bed posts, are you?”

Larissa nearly did a spit take, though she quickly recovered and schooled her expression. She did a quick sweep around before jabbing her elbow to his side earning her a yelp.

“Girl, you can deny it in ten different ways and I ain’t gonna believe you. Who cares if you do? I don’t. You can keep her all year long over or under any surface of your office and I wouldn’t dare say a thing.”

Okay, that was it. Larissa’s nostrils flared, eyeing down the man. If he could casually talk like that with all these people in the room, no doubt Larissa could casually wring his neck as well but the thought soon vanished when another teacher joined their space leaving Larissa fuming underneath a calm expression.

She put a practiced smile on her, looking sweet and all as if in her mind she wasn’t thinking about murdering her friend.

It was Mrs Bowen, the music teacher, rubbing her very swollen pregnant belly in front of Larissa. A belly that Larissa could swear wasn’t as prominent as it was now when she last saw the woman, she couldn’t even recall if she sent a congratulatory note or anything.

Subconsciously, she placed a hand flat on her stomach, mimicking the other woman.

“Mrs Bowen! It feels like I haven’t seen you in ages. How far along are you again? It looks like you’re ready to pop!” It was Vlad who broke the ice first. Larissa stayed silent, pensively rubbing her thumb on the soft spot of her belly.

“Almost eight months. I’m carrying triplets.” She made a show by pushing her belly outward.

“Damn that’s a horde! How many positions did you do with your husband to conceive not just one but three?”

The high pitch chuckle broke Larissa out of her trance, removing her hand and letting it fall on her side to appear as if she was smoothing her dress. Thankfully everyone was well occupied to notice the gesture.

“Just one. It runs in the family you know. My husband is a quadruplet.”

“Wow…okay, wow. Really wow.”

“Congratulations on the babies again, Mrs Bowen. ” Larissa said finally.

“Thank you, Principal Weems. I kinda want to ask you, well, I was gonna drop an invitation at your office but I can’t climb two flights of stairs like I used to anymore so I’m just gonna say it. It’s my baby shower this upcoming holiday break. I know it’s quite early but my husband and I decided it’s for the best.”

It was plain as day that the impromptu invitation had caught her off guard, she blinked a few times, she didn’t even realize her jaw was clenched and her brows were raised, as her breath was suspended.

She looked at Mrs Bowen’s face, then down her engorged belly, then back up to her face again. She had no qualms with the pregnant woman, hell, Mrs Bowen was the sweetest, most down to earth living person she encountered in this godforsaken town, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be in a…celebratory mood?

“That’s—” it felt like her voice was caught up in her throat “—that’s wonderful. I, um, I have to check if my schedule is clear but I’ll keep it in mind.” she said, putting a practiced smile on her face. She wanted to leave.

“Excuse me, I have to go. Have a lovely day for both of you and see you around.”

–

Larissa sat in front of her desk, the drink she had was forgotten on the table letting the condensation from the melted ice drip.

Seeing Mrs Bowen in her state made Larissa think about herself. It made her heart beat faster, the image of herself with a big protruding belly was unnerving enough as it was and it was made worse by the thought of how, just fucking how, was she going to go through all stages of pregnancy. Not that anything was confirmed yet, but she just couldn’t help herself.

And it terrified her. The future terrified her. If only she could just pull out the test kits she had hiding in her drawer and piss on it, wait for some goddamn five minutes, and be done. She would at least get a grip of what was really going on, though it felt like it wasn’t that easy.

Maybe a part of her was already hoping no matter how much she denied it while the rest was just scared of the disappointing truth but wouldn’t it be better? You were young, free spirited, you often gush about how you’d want to travel the world and explore. You had a full life right ahead of you and she was not selfish to ask anything of you but she knew you were not a terrible person, you wouldn’t just leave.

Thinking about it made me nauseous. It wasn’t supposed to get this serious. None of these were supposed to happen.

She was fucking turning forty-four in a few months, and this kind of dilema was absolutely not she was expecting at this age.

That day she decided she was too overwhelmed and unwell to properly function so she gave into her whims and she went home and spent the rest of the day in her bed wishing you were there to hold her.

–

Eventually it was the end of the week with a long weekend ahead, Professors were gathering their belongings to spend weekends with their families for those who live far away, and students were getting ready for whatever plans they had for the weekend.

She watched from the balcony how the thick crowd dispersed until few of the staff were left roaming the grounds, only then did she summon herself to collect her things, deeming herself ready to go home.

In the middle of applying a fresh coat of lipstick, she couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the silence, the hollowed feeling that lingered in her chest. She didn't know how the thought got to her but she imagined a gummy smile welcoming her home with a tiny pair of hands opening and closing, too eager to grab a fistful of her clothes. The smell of baby powder and cologne as she buries her face on the crook of a little one’s neck and then you…

She thought about you kissing her and helping take her coat off. She thought about spending her Saturdays in her backyard, lounging on a massive picnic blanket under the tree, indulging the day with books and some wine, and then you’d be both surprised because your daughter just took her first step, and her heart was clenching, a proud smile displayed on her face while you were absolutely freaking out because what if she fell flat on her face?

(Okay. Fuck. Goddamnit)

The sound of the drawer slamming closed harder than it was necessary reverberated in the room. She was hot on her heels, ushering herself into the bathroom, leaving the door open, she held two pregnancy tests with a firm grip.

With bated breath, she sat on the toilet and used the first stick.

—

When you arrived on a Saturday morning, Larissa had just come out of her bedroom. You were still in the hallway, your overnight bag hanging on your shoulder, two paper bags occupying your arms. On your way, you took it upon yourself to buy groceries not wanting Larissa to think you were freeloading off of her or abusing her kindness, plus you thought about cooking for her instead of feeding her take outs.

Your eyes lingered to the way the flimsy straps of her baby blue nightgown that hung loosely on her shoulders, it made you feel things, and when they went south noticing how it was cut mid her thighs, giving you enough skin to ogle at. You couldn’t possibly contain your hunger for her. Her skin looked supple, rosy around the cheeks and freckles around her shoulders going down the length of her arms.

Her nipples peaked from the chill of the morning, and the sunlight casted on her skin gave an ethereal kind of glow. You couldn’t ponder how this was real. How she was real.

Before taking the groceries to the kitchen, you dropped the bag in the hallway, mentally noting to pick it up for later, “I let myself in again thinking you were still probably asleep.”

You walked up to her and she met you halfway. There were bags under her eyes denoting the lack of sleep, and her eyes, they look tired and conflicted.

The groceries almost fell when she surged forward, hands cupping your face, pressing a kiss on your lips and knocking out your breath. You wanted to grab the back of her neck, pull her deeper and kiss her harder. You wanted to reciprocate her obvious longing but you couldn’t unless you wanted spilt milk and raw eggs all over the floor.

“Mhmm, later. I need to put this away first.” So with that, you reluctantly pulled away, sauntering over to the kitchen to put the bags on the counter where she followed you, not letting herself be away from you and it made your heart clench.

Larissa kept the distance between you within an arm’s length, leaning her back on the counter behind you, watching you take the fresh produce out of the bag one by one but there was a lot packed in one bag and you didn’t think you had the patience to put them away, not if she was looking at you like that, not when something felt wrong.

The eggs were the last thing you pulled out and set on the counter. When you faced her, she had her lower lip worried in between her teeth, “Baby, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

She shook her head, stepping closer. The instant you opened your arms, your bodies collided. She rested her forehead against yours, “Sorry.”

You brush a strand away from her face, letting your fingertips linger around her jawbone, “It’s okay. I missed this, too.” you told her, getting a sense that it was the reason that made Larissa emotional, and to think that missing you had this effect on her made you want to wrap her in your arms more; to never let her go.

You offered her a wink, hoping to enlighten her and kissed the tip of her nose, it usually earned you a chuckle or a kiss in response but right now, Larissa only sighed.

Your mind circled back to how you thought her eyes looked very tired, and they still were, missing its shine. You could barely see yourself reflecting in them.

“How about you steal a couple more hours of sleep, hm? As soon as I’m finished putting the groceries away, I will lie with you and then after you have your rest we’ll have breakfast. I’ll make waffles, you like that, right?”

It took her a moment to reply, her eyes watching you closely like she had many times before after sharing an intimate moment that left you both emotionally vulnerable.

“I missed you.” she said, cupping your face. The pad of her left thumb grazed the corner of your lips, stroking the skin tenderly.

“And I missed you a whole lot more. So, so much. I have been thinking about you day and night. Most of my dreams were about you which is embarrassing because even in my sleep, I was obsessed about you.” That, thankfully, made her smile even just a tiny bit, barely perceptible if you hadn’t been this close to see it.

“Do you mean it?” She asked and you gave her a reassuring nod.

“Yes, I do. Now, let’s get you in bed.”

In between the conversation, you felt yourself closer to slipping from what you really wanted to tell her, though you held back and managed. It still felt early to say it and you were afraid of how she’d react. There were too many what ifs and none of them were doing you good. So, as long as you didn’t say it, you still had a chance of still being with her and protecting both of your peace.

Looking away, to shake the thoughts off, something caught your attention interestingly enough. On the bench at the end of the bed, you recognized the neatly folded clothes. They were your pyjamas. She must have been expecting you last night, you knew she had this habit of preparing both of your clothes whenever you were staying so it wasn’t completely random to find them there.

In that moment, from where you stood, you were struck with just how much Larissa deeply cared for you. It was palpable from the things she did for you, for what she had sacrificed by far. Because you knew a woman in her twenties being seen in public with another woman twice her age would have had people to turn their heads, and it was sad because it would only take a second for them to judge you, but mostly her. In their eyes she was a predator that preyed on the young. It would do less damage on you even if you were the one who pushed yourself to be with her.

She had a reputable image that she was putting at risk for you so if that didn’t speak volume of how much she was willing to do to be with you, you would be a goddamn idiot to still think that this woman didn’t feel the same way as you do if not more.

“Darling?” Her voice reeled you back at the present moment, she was already in bed, laying on her side with her head propped on her hand.

If your heart could grow every time you think you love her, it would have been massive, uncontainable even. Yes, yes you love her.

“Just give me a second,” You shed your pants, followed by the shirt you have on, then you reached behind you to unclasped your bra which soon fell on top of the messy pile. At this point, your body was on autopilot, acting according to what felt necessary.

You needed her to know that her effort hadn’t gone to waste. You took the simple white tee from the bench, sniffing it briefly. It smelled like her. In fact, the whole room smelled just like her, and you basked in its scent, in its comfort that it gave you knowing that as long as you were in this room you were hers and she was yours, the rest of the world didn’t matter.

You joined her after, sliding into the warm soft sheets and into her awaiting arms. You throbbed to be this close to her all week long, nothing could make up for it, not the facetime calls or the voice messages, or pictures. They all did manage to fill in at least an inch of your longing but nothing could quite beat having her next to you and breathing onto her skin, feeling her pulse beneath your touch and her lips against yours.

She was the pleasure you couldn’t deny yourself from. Every single bit of you was latching like vines around her unwilling to release itself. You craved for the sweet taste of the mornings where her smile ended up on your lips, before you were lapping up the coats of her essence around your fingers and swallowing it.

The silence stretched for a while, the words you wanted to relieve your chest from stayed caged; guarded within your ribs. You wanted her so much you wanted to do this right and you would…just not right now.

Everything was in motion when you blinked, your breath coming in deep, expanding your lungs with the sickening burn. Her scent filled your brain with a high level of dopamine making you feel fuzzy all over.

“What happened to putting away the groceries first?” She asked, a mild tone of amusement apparent in her voice, shifting herself so you could lay your head on her arm.

You snuggled forward, hiding your face on the crook of her neck, “Change of plans.” You breathed out. You then sling an arm around her waist, bridging whatever gap was left until you were all flushed against her with your legs slotted in between her thighs. “Would you rather I do them now?”

“No. I want you exactly where you are right now.” And to prove her words, Larissa wrapped her other arm around you, trapping you into her hold then she hummed, threading her fingers along your hair.

You smirked against her skin, feeling the light satisfaction her answer gave. “That’s what I thought.” And for sure she must have felt it or something because she playfully pinched your arm.

Repeating the process of combing through your hair, you grew silent, your breaths were evened and relaxed, even the tension she noticed the moment she held you disappeared. For a second there she thought you had fallen asleep, which made it kind of funny because you were the one who insisted she was the one who needed some sleep, but she wasn’t going to tease you now. Perhaps, you were just as tired as her, she couldn’t ponder how you could get up at the ungodly hours of the morning and drive two hours to get here.

That was until her skin was met with the warm wet feeling of your mouth. The sensations she adored had rendered her eyes closed. “Darling,” Her hips bucked in the slightest way. It felt like encouragement on your part, as well as the way her back arched causing her breasts to thrust forward. And you couldn’t keep it in yourself anymore, you detached your mouth from her clavicle, continuing your exploration to her mouth and kissed her while you palmed her breast over the silk.

She paused in the middle of the kiss, brows knitting together. You felt her hand cupped the back of yours stilling your movement, “Be gentle,”

“But I’m being gentle?”

“Extra gentle, honey.” You nodded, leaning forward to kiss her again, and your hand resumed working on her breast, “This okay?”

It took her a minute to answer a simple “yes...” it was breathy, almost sounding unsure, but she pushed herself, nibbling on your lip before you had the chance to overthink her tone and you kissed her back with feral need.

The pleasure was slowly building instead of pain, and it went on, until eventually you were yearning to have it in your mouth. With a simple yank on the neckline of her nightgown, her breasts were freed and exposed.

The sight of her nipples hard and rosy sent blush all over your face, it was like seeing them the first time again. But what really tipped you over the edge was the way they looked fuller, more supple and round with new veins visibly showing.

Her fingers in your hair grew slack before they found purchase on your shoulder when your lips suddenly took one nipple in, and it was chased by a muffled cry.

Pushing your shoulder back, she looked down, surprised by just how sensitive and sore she was and it hadn’t been a minute since having them in your mouth.

Wide eyed, you asked, “Sorry, did I hurt you again?”

“No, they’re just quite sensitive.” she was rubbing the nipple with her thumb to alleviate the tingling.

“I’m really sorry.” The fear of hurting her again extinguished your desire, even if it was unintentional you couldn’t erase the pained expression she had.

“I told you it’s okay.”

“Maybe we should stop? Or are you hungry? I can–” Larissa grabbed your wrist before you could get out of bed.

“No, no, not hungry, though a few hours of sleep sounds appealing now.”

You returned back to your previous position, “I’m sorry to cut your fun, sweetheart.” She dropped a kiss on your forehead, her thumb rubbing your brow to soothe the frown on your face, “I’ll make it up to you later, is that alright?”

“We don’t have to do anything later if that’s what you’re hinting at. I’m content to just lay here with you and spend the rest of the day rotting in this bed.”

“Oh, is that right?” Larissa chuckled at your choice of words, pressing a kiss onto your hairline.

“Ahuh, I’m okay. Now, will you turn your back on me please, and let me spoon you?” your voice was muffled by the soft skin of her chest when you murmured.

“Did I hear you right? My baby wants to spoon me?”

My baby. Your chest tightened at that. “Please?”

You both exchanged a look with smiles invading both your lips. Without another word Larissa turned her back on you and you gladly offered your arm for her to rest her head, while the other hugged her waist from behind.

Quickly, you were both engulfed by the blissful comfort of silence, hushing the pestering thoughts that loomed. It settled your heart at the right pace. You ever wondered if it ever felt the same way for her.

And as if she could read your mind, she held your hand and brought it to her chest letting you feel her heart thudding softly on your palm. You took that as the answer and smiled.

“Good night, my love.” You nuzzled your nose on the side of her neck like a cat, smelling traces of her body wash and perfume, some of her shampoo as well. Your brain was so fuzzy it didn’t question the last two words.

Meanwhile, Larissa’s heart leapt to her throat.

–

The last time Larissa had locked herself in her office’s private restroom, pacing back and forth with her head pulsing, was outreach day. She was barefooted, she had an unlit cigarette in between her fingers thumbing the filter, too tempted to lit the stick.

And yesterday, she found herself in the same situation. She paced along the black and white tiles with her arms hugging her middle. She had an impending headache so she stopped and pressed her back against the wall. She closed her eyes for a minute, feeling the coolness seeping to her back. She would probably regret this right after but she was far too emotionally stressed to care. She then dramatically slid down until she was sitting, the length of her legs stretched out, one ankle over the other.

The beating of her heart was too damn fast, her tears welling up the corners of her eyes until her vision was a blur and it all came leaking down her face.

On the counter, near the sink, two white test kits laid parallel to one another showing identical results.

Larissa laughed when she picked it up again, staring at the two visible pink lines.

#larissa weems x reader #gwendoline christie imagines #larissa weems imagine #larissa weems #principal larissa weems #larissa weems smut #gwendoline christie #larissa x reader #billiedeansbitch #some g!p action

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heesdreamer · 2 years ago

Text

ONE HUNDRED AND ONE

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ returning back home from a failed year at college, you’re reunited with your little brothers best friend who always had a crush on you. this definitely hasn’t changed, but he sure has.

WARNINGS ➩ smut (rough at times), reader is jungwon’s older sister and there is a small age gap. enha have been aged down for the sake of being in similar grades (maknae line are all 17, 02z are all 18, heeseung is 20 and reader is 22)

WC ➩ 19k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ not proofread of course lol and written at 5 am.. you know the drill by now. normally writing smut ruins the story for me but i think its fitting and a good choice here! let me know your thoughts NO PART 2 but feel free to ask any questions u found unanswered

When you found out you were going to be a big sister, you thought your entire world was going to end.

You’d spent the earliest years of your life listening to your friends complain about their younger siblings, cry when they had to share toys or their parents attention. So when your mother sat you down and explained that there was a baby in her belly, you were more than prepared to stand your ground and let the new enemies arrival know who was number one around here.

Five years old, you were stood in the hospitals waiting room with a pout on your face and your arms crossed in irritation, spending the morning listening to relatives gush about the babies arrival and waiting to see your mother after labor.

The anger stayed in your expression the entire walk down the hospital wings hallway, remaining strong as you crossed into your mothers room and not even faltering when she gave you a soft tired smile. You approached the bed, prepared to see the creature that was going to cause you a lifetime of pain and suffering.

And then he started to cry.

The thing about your friends younger siblings is; they simply were not Yang Jungwon. After the baby had come home and you continued to watch him grow and learn how to communicate, you waited for that angry and betrayed feeling to return like your peers had sworn it would, but it never arrived.

Jungwon was the absolute perfect little brother and you quickly adored him, following him around as he waddled throughout the house and giving him your toys to chew on whenever his little round head piqued up in interest. He rarely fussed, eating heavy portions and never quite growing into his big large eyes that would peer up at you everyday when you got home from school.

The same eyes that stared at you now, although now he was having to glance downwards considering his growth spurt during high school.

You’d barely walked through the door, bags and suitcase being dragged behind your back through the entryway, when you were being slammed full force into a tight hug by your little brother. He was 17 now, not quite little anymore but you quickly squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck when he lifted you up off the ground for a second.

“Baby brother.” You were exclaiming happily and he set you down, pulling back with a wide grin and sparkling eyes that kept widening in excitement.

You moving away for college has been hard on Jungwon, practically being best friends your entire lives despite the age difference causing some petty conflicts occasionally. You’d worried about him at first, never really being social outside of following you around when you went out with your friends but after he entered middle school he had found an entire group of kids his age and you felt less burdened when you had to leave.

It still didn’t make it any easier and the first few months you called every night, letting your little brother ramble about girls he had crushes on and things his friends got detention for.

Jungwon had been so proud of you for getting into a good college but you quickly became burnt out, slowly putting a stop to your nightly calls and rarely making the drive home for holidays anymore. You spent most of your days curled up on your dorm rooms couch, watching movie reruns from a decade ago and zoning out staring at your hefty workload.

Your parents had managed to convince you to come home for some time and decide what you wanted to do after your head got a bit more clear, even driving all the way up to your school to help you pack up your life into three measly boxes and bring you home for the next few months.

You felt ashamed and embarrassed about coming home at first, staying silent through the packing process and hurriedly walking out of the campus building to avoid any classmates stopping you and questioning why you were carrying so many bags. The excitement in your brothers face gave you the first sense of hope since you’d left, feeling a bit more okay about having to return home.

“Was the drive okay?” His voice was snapping you out of your train of thought and you smiled at him, messing up his hair and giving him a small nod before letting him take one of the bags off your shoulder. “You must be exhausted, mom and dad were right about waiting for the weekend to have the party.”

The two of you were leaving the entry way and making your way towards the kitchen area when the words slipped out of him, immediately freezing in your spot and seeing him wince from where he was standing. You cocked an eyebrow and your parents walked in just in time to catch sight of your expression and immediately sigh.

“You spoiled it, didn’t you?” Your dad was shaking his head at your little brother and moving past your frozen frame to deposit one of your boxes on the living room floor, glancing at your mom to help diffuse the situation.

“Listen honey, we were going to tell you we just… weren’t sure how you’d take it.” She was speaking in her typical soft tone, raising her hands in worry and giving you a guilty look.

“Mom a party is a terrible idea.” You were groaning softly and letting your bag slump to the floor, a childish whine slipping into your voice now that you were back at home and speaking comfortably to your family. “It’s not like I graduated or something, I basically dropped out. We can’t have a ‘congratulations you failed’ party, it’s humiliating.”

“You didn’t fail Y/N.” Jungwon was quickly cutting off your self depreciating rambles and you glanced over at him with another sigh. “It’s a welcome home party. We are welcoming you home!”

He sounded optimistic about it and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile at his tone and obvious excitement, the same excitement that led to him spoiling it in the first place.

It was such a typical Jungwon thing to be so optimistic about a party that wasn’t even for him, always the bright light to your more hesitant and cynical personality. He kept you having fun and being youthful when being a teenager was hard but he was still far more emotionally mature than most adults you knew, knowing when to ground himself and be realistic.

“Besides, all my friends will be there.” He was continuing on and you shot your mom an annoyed glanced to which she attempted to give you a stern look in return.

Whilst Jungwon was the best sibling ever, his friends were still very much typical teenage boys. You remember the first time he brought the group home in middle school, expecting to see a few meek kids who suited your brothers more timid personality and would address your parents with table manners and polite greetings.

Much to your surprise, apparently your little brother had managed to befriend the nosiest middle schoolers you’d ever encountered. You quickly remembered how much your friends had disliked their younger brothers and you imagined you’d have a similar belief if they were anything like the boys Jungwon quickly became near family with.

Sunoo and Riki were in the same grade as Jungwon, freshly entering middle school but they bickered and argued like adult men. Multiple times throughout the years, you had to physically step in between them and remove one from a situation before things got too messy. Outside of their tendency to clash, they were practically attached at the hip and quickly adopted your sibling to join their close duo.

The other boys were much more tolerable despite their own sets of various issues.

Jay, a year above your brother but decades older, weirdly reminded you of your grandfather at times. You’d hear him scolding the boys from the other room about watching where they fling controllers and on multiple occasions he had scolded you about having healthier lifestyle and diet choices.

Jake was practically his opposite in every way, a vacuum to junk food and a magnet to all things chaos. The boy had a tendency to lose his footing and his clumsiness really became a staple in his personality after he tumbled his elbow through the third piece of drywall in your house.

Park Sunghoon could barely speak a word to you for the first few years he came around, going as far as to verbally squeak and disappear around corners back to your brothers room whenever you came out to get a glass of water or ask them if they wanted you to order a pizza. He eventually started to warm up to you, managing to hold small talk by the time you left for school, but not nearly as quick as the oldest member of the group did.

Lee Heeseung had practically got down on one knee and proposed to you the moment he met you. Quite literally, considering you’d opened the door to greet them all for the first time and the boy had immediately pretended to faint into his friends arms, landing on an annoyed Jay who swatted him away and told him to greet you properly.

Being the oldest, Heeseung was three years older than your little brother which by default meant he was two years your junior, which was a fact he reminded you of almost every single time he saw you.

Whilst the other boys seemed to take you on as a sisterly figure, asking you for help with homework and requesting rides home from sport practices or late running hangout sessions, Heeseung had made it very clear that he saw you in a very different way. He was a flirt, albeit extremely harmless and mostly using terrible pickup lines he had stumbled upon online.

You found him funnier than you’d like to admit, absolutely never telling him this or even sparing him a chuckle during his hundreds of passes at you.

You weren’t too worried about actually hurting his feelings, assuming he was just infatuated with you because you were an older girl who was around all the time and that was practically a goldmine to a boy entering high school. So you continued on with your eye rolls and pushing him away whenever he purposely sat too close to you in the car on family road trips.

It wasn’t until your graduation that you considered the possibility you had been wrong about how fleeting his comments towards you really were. He’d never given up on the flirting but you figured it was just a habit by now, a running joke considering they’d eventually died down and became more tame the older you both got.

Then you were walking off that stage with a bright proud smile, your future pretty much guaranteed at a college that was driving distance and you pulled your brother and parents into a big hug before stepping back and catching sight of the boy standing behind a bouquet of big flowers.

Heeseung had nervously handed them over to you and the shake of his hands made your eyebrows furrow, so used to his extremely relaxed and comedic personality. You’d never really seen him nervous outside of a few moments during school where he’d failed an important test or had a particularly bad argument with his parents. You gave him a small smile and inspected the flowers.

“Are these baby’s breath?” You were glancing up at him and your eyes widened slightly in excitement at the smell of your favorite flowers. “These are beautiful Hee, did Jungwon tell you they were my favorite?”

“No… I just remembered.” He was smiling softly back at you and he looked relieved that you liked them, scratching his neck softly and watching as you smelled the high quality bouquet a few more times before smiling up at him again. “Actually I wanted to give you them because they-“

He was cut off by the sound of somebody calling your name a few times and you both glanced over, seeing a few of your classmates waving you over and positioning themselves in front of a camera. You laughed softly and amidst your excitement from the busy day, you completely missed the way his face fell as your attention quickly diverted away from him and what he was trying to tell you.

“They’re amazing Heeseung, I’ll make sure to put them in water as soon as I get home. Thank you again.” You were giving him another smile that made his cheeks flush, hand raising in a small wave before you were turning and disappearing into the crowd.

He watched as you posed in the photo with his flowers in your hand, your friends wrapping their arms around you and steadying their caps as you all prepared to start your adult lives in different schools and parts of the world.

You didn’t see the boy again after that for a while, spending the summer before college started with your friends and making some last minute memories before you were all apart for a while. Then you had your going away party and you, once again, were too focused on other things and you don’t recall ever even seeing him there despite the fact he always came to your family events and was certainly somewhere in the house.

It’d been three years now since you’d seen the seven boys all together and despite the constant messes and loud nights they’d caused you back in high school, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit excited to see them all again.

You definitely didn’t consider them your friends but you were fond of them and they made your little brother happy, listening to him ramble about their recent adventures all night while he helped you unpack your boxes and bags back into your childhood bedroom.

“We don’t have to do the party if you don’t want to.” He was telling you after you’d finished, standing in your doorway with his pajamas on and a toothbrush between his teeth. “It was sort of my idea but I don’t want to make you feel weird about being home.”

You felt guilty at the expression on his face, trying to remain steady and pretend he didn’t care but you could tell that he had been excited about the idea of people gathering to celebrate your return and knowing him, he most likely already had most of the details planned out in advance. As much as you weren’t necessarily looking forward to it, assuming it would contain a lot of awkward small talk and you explaining that you hadn’t graduated early and that’s not why you were home, you figured it wouldn’t hurt enough to cancel the whole thing.

“I think it could be fun.” You were shrugging from under your covers and if he could tell you were lying he didn’t show it as his face split into a grin around the plastic in his mouth.

Your little brother bid you goodnight in a soft voice, closing your door gently and leaving you to lay in your bed that slowly became unfamiliar to you. You stared at the posters on the walls, bands you no longer listened to and movies you’d forgotten the plot of. Everything was exactly the same and you were the only part of your life that had changed significantly, leaving you feeling out of place and isolated.

You sighed softly and rolled onto your side so you didn’t have to look at your bedroom that was frozen in time, letting yourself drift off to sleep and trying not to think about the fact you were back to square one.

——

It only took about half a day later for you to realize that you’d been wrong about being the only thing to change, incredibly wrong in fact considering how dumbfounded you currently were standing in front of your open front door and staring at the people in front of you.

When there had been sharp pounding on the wood, you hadn’t hesitated to swing it open despite the fact you technically didn’t live there anymore and it most likely wasn’t going to be somebody you knew. Still, it was a habit to not let guest stand outside on the porch unanswered and you felt complete deja vu when you swung open the door to see six people crammed together outside.

They were all hanging over each other to try and get a look at you first, excited grins on their faces and you were completely thrown off for a moment because how matured they all looked.

“So you are back.” Sunghoon was excitedly announcing, no sign of hesitance or his usual awkwardness when it came to addressing you. He’d always been handsome but he settled nicely into his features now that he was an adult and his shoulders were a lot broader now, perfect for supporting Sunoo who was grinning at you from over them.

“Jungwon texted us last night but we didn’t believe him.” Your head turned to match the voice and you smiled softly when you saw it was Jay, standing still in place and looking every bit as serious as he normally was.

“Why would he lie about that?” Jake was pushing past the others to enter the house first and he nearly tripped over the welcome mat, falling closer to you and barely steadying himself before he was pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Nice to see you too Jake.” You mumbled into his shoulder, wincing slightly at the force of his embrace. He pulled away with a dog like grin before moving aside so the others could file in.

You hugged them all individually as they passed through, feeling like you were seventeen again and they were coming over for a sleepover. Except now they were almost all adults and even Riki was towering over you now, the tallest of the group despite the fact he was barely coming up to your shoulder when you had left.

You paused after the fifth boy had passed through, faltering completely as you looked at the final member of the usual group and your eyes widened a touch.

“What, no hug for me?” Heeseung’s voice was ringing clearly in your ears but you still hadn’t processed that it was him standing in front of you.

Last time you saw the boy he almost resembled a scared hamster of sorts, always looking around with big wide eyes and not fully grown into his ears and long limbs. Part of the reason you’d never taken his advances seriously was because you couldn’t see him as a man most the time, full of boyish charm and a messy grin.

A grin similar to the one he was giving you now albeit this one was a lot more matured and carrying a heavy aura of confidence. A confidence he was definitely deserving of having considering he has clearly been working on both his physical health and his sense of style. You’d never once found yourself nervous around the younger boy but you were toeing the line of intimidated as you looked up at him now.

You pulled him in for a quick hug, hoping it wasn’t noticeably faster than the others before you were pulling away but keeping your hands on his upper arms.

“Woah… you’re..” You trailed off and your eyes widened slightly, squeezing his biceps in wonder and ignoring the way he let out a small laugh at your amusement. He was still looking at you with that almost cocky grin and you avoiding meeting his gaze for now.

“Yeah, hyungs been working out a lot to impress his girlfriend.” Riki’s voice was sounding from behind you, taking note of your fascination and you quickly dropped your hands from the boy to avoid any chance of misinterpretation.

You cleared your throat and took a step away from him, glancing up at him and realizing he had lost the casual grin and was glaring daggers at the youngest boy who was still stood behind you. You waited for him to move out of the doorway so you could shut it behind them, watching as they bounded up the stairs to go and get your brother.

You smiled softly at the nostalgia of it all and walked over to the kitchen, still having a few hours before the party actually started and being strictly instructed that you weren’t allowed to help with the set up portion of the night. Having nothing to do was driving you crazy however so you started to slowly chop up the vegetables that would be laid out on the snack table, humming to yourself softly.

“Need any help?” You were jumping in place and accidentally knocking over the pile of broccoli at the sudden sound of somebody speaking right next to your ear. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I thought you heard me coming.”

Heeseung was quickly bending over to pick up the soiled vegetables and you watched him, slightly flustered from the jumpscare and the fact he was glancing up at you from down at your feet to see if you were okay.

“It’s alright.” You quickly assured him, realizing he was waiting for you to say something and he watched you for a second before he was nodding and standing up to throw away the food into your trash can.

You were moving some carrots over to the cutting board instead, feeling strangely unsteady as he walked to the other side of the kitchens island and pulled a stool out to sit and watch you. You could feel him staring at your face as you chopped, occasionally glancing down at your uncoordinated hands and you cleared your throat uncomfortably.

“So.. is your girlfriend coming tonight?” You were asking, not sure why you had said it and quickly regretting it when you looked up at him and his face dropped.

“I don’t have a girlfriend. Riki doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He was sighing and shaking his head, stretching forward slightly to grab a cut up piece of carrot off the board and throw it into his mouth before you could scold him.

“Not a girlfriend then, just your friend that’s a girl that you work out to impress.” Your tone was teasing as you said it but you kept glancing up at him to check his reaction, knowing that before he wouldn’t have minded the comment but things were different now. He just nodded in confirmation and watched you for a few seconds. “Why not your girlfriend?”

You imagined if this had been a few years ago he would’ve taken this opportunity to flirt with you, made some cheesy comment about you being the only girl for him and go on about how nothing could stand in between your destined love. You weren’t sure why you were disappointed when he did nothing but shrug softly.

“Shouldn’t you be upstairs with the other boys?” You eventually asked him in a soft tone, feeling calmer now that you started to feel familiar in his presence again. Despite looking shockingly different, this was still just Heeseung.

“I figured you’d be busy once the party started.” He was shrugging again like he hadn’t paid much thought to it but his stare was heavy on you. “Wanted to see you now before you were distracted.”

“I’d never be too busy to talk to you guys.” You were titling your head and shaking it slightly, a smile on your face that he didn’t match right away. He seemed like he was thinking about something you didn’t quite understand and your lip curved down a bit.

He was suddenly standing up and you paused in your slow chopping, setting the knife down and watching him as he rounded back around the island until he was standing beside you. You turned your body so you could actually face him and weren’t just showing him your shoulder, looking up at him and raising your eyebrows in confusion about what he needed on the side of the kitchen.

He didn’t say anything at first but your eyes widened a touch when he was taking a step closer to you, your back hitting the counter and your faces almost capable of touching if he ducked his head down to your height.

“What.. what are you..” You were trailing off into a small nervous laugh, your hands coming up to grip the counter behind you tightly.

“So you’ll find me at the party then?” He was asking before you could finish and his voice was a lot lower than you’d ever heard it, more used to high pitched laughter and boyish voice cracks over the lower rasp he was speaking in now. He was still suffocating close to you as he spoke and you imagined this would look pretty damning if someone were to walk in right now.

You were too stunned to respond to him right, mouth opening and closing for a few beats before he was reaching behind you to grab another carrot. You watched him as he popped it into his mouth, smirking at you slightly before taking a few steps backwards.

“See you then.” He was casually announcing like he hadn’t just practically been pushed up against you and you could do nothing but stare in bewilderment as he turned out of the kitchen and headed upstairs to your brothers room.

Your shoulders dropped in relief once he was out of sight , letting out a heavy breath and relaxing your white knuckled grip on the counter. You abandoned the carrots and raced up to your bedroom, trying your hardest to not think about the way your stomach had flipped with butterflies because of your little brothers friend.

——

“Wait a minute… like little Lee Heeseung? The kid who followed you around five summers in a row?” Your friends voice was crackling over your phone a few hours later and you groaned into the device.

“I know I know, but that’s exactly the problem. He’s not little anymore.” You stressed the words to try and get her to understand where you were coming from, embarrassed at the fact you had even admitted what had happened in the kitchen, whatever that was exactly.

“Yeah but dude you can’t get turned on by your brothers friend. It’s like gotta be totally immoral.” She was scolding you but you could hear the laughter in her voice as she shuffled with something on the other side of the phone. “Besides, he’s always been hot. You just never paid any attention to him.”

You groaned at his words and flopped over in your bed, laying on your stomach and stuffing your face into the pillow. You wished she didn’t word things so directly, suddenly feeling extremely wrong for the way Heeseung had made you feel. The second part of her sentence, for some reason, bothered you even more.

You had paid attention to Heeseung, you paid attention to all of your brothers friends. You considered the fact he had seemingly insinuated something similar in the kitchen earlier and you wondered if there was something you were missing, possibly forgetting a time you had directly dismissed the boy outside of playfully rejecting his faux flirting.

“Please don’t say it like that Yunjin, it makes me sound like a cougar or something.” You were practically whispering into the phone, extra paranoid about somebody overhearing considering all the boys were passing back and forth to help set up for the party.

“You are a bit of a cougar.” She was laughing into the phone but amidst your continuous groans and complaints she calmed herself down. “Isn’t he like 19 or something? That’s totally fine.”

“He’s 20.” You mumbled back, feeling even weirder that you were having to do the math to ensure what you were feeling suddenly was safe. It made your stomach turn to think about him in that way but every time your mind drifted back to the way he peered down at you in the kitchen, the feeling crept up again. “I’ve literally never even slightly considered this before, what am I supposed to do?”

“Well isn’t it obvious?” She was retorting in a dumbfounded voice, chewing on something loudly through the speaker and you winced in preparation. “Fuck him.”

You frowned as she said exactly what you were expecting her to, quickly telling her you were done with the conversation and hanging up as she laughed and asked you to call back later with updates.

You’d never in your life thought you would think about fucking Lee Heeseung. Actually, you’d never in your life even considered him in the regard of somebody who was capable of having sex with anybody or anything. He’d never once dipped a toe into your late night fantasies, never made you blush from skin to skin contact and he definitely never made you feel the way you did a few hours ago.

The knocking on your door took you out of your thoughts will a jump, so insecure about your inner monologue that you almost felt like whoever looked at you would be able to tell what you were thinking about.

Your mother was coming to tell you that guest had started to arrive and you quickly got dressed in a party suitable outfit, taking deep breaths in the mirror before putting on a sociable smile and joining in on the festivities that were centered around you.

It felt a little uncomfortable to be holding so many conversations with people you recognized but hadn’t seen in years, most the adults looking exactly the same but you couldn’t help the shock you felt when you realized their kids were speaking actual sentences now.

You somehow managed to go the first hour avoiding the sensitive topic of why you had come home in the first place and you had half the mind to assume your mom had asked people not to talk about it, both grateful for her care towards your feelings and humiliated that everyone was potentially avoiding the elephant in the room.

You didn’t spend too much time thinking about it considering you were avoiding your own elephant, a particularly well dressed one stood over by the drink table sipping, what you assumed, was your fathers fruit punch mix.

“Y/N, sweetheart. Do you mind refilling Ms. Jung’s cup for her? It’s such a hassle to get her walker out in the grass every time.” You stared at your mother in horror as she softly assigned you the task, knowing there was absolutely no way you could deny filling up your elderly neighbors empty cup.

You gave both women a tight smile, immediately loosing it and wincing when you were turning around and having to make your way over to the table that Heeseung was still standing at. He wasn’t looking in your direction yet thankfully and you reminded yourself that nothing had even happened, maybe you were reading too far into him just being comfortable enough to lean over you.

The table was halfway hidden behind the corner of the outside deck, neatly tucked into the back of the yard so it was visible but not in the way of guest who were mingling and having fun.

You’d barely taken a few steps before Heeseung was noticing you approaching, shifting in his stance and taking a sip of his cup as he watched you get closer and closer. You hoped your nerves weren’t evident on your face, already feeling ashamed of the way you accidentally scanned up and down his frame a few times as you got closer to him.

“Are you avoiding me?” He was asking before you’d barely even reached the table, startling you at his bluntness and your eyes widened a bit before you were shaking your head and reaching to grab the ladle from the punch bowl.

“Why would I be avoiding you?” You scoffed softly, trying to remember what you’d typically reply to him in this situation when you weren’t so thrown off by your crazy inner thoughts that had arrived.

“You tell me.” His voice was closer now and you turned your head to look at him, sucking in a small breath at the fact he was stood right next to your side and facing you now. You set the cup down on the table so you could look at him, finding it disrespectful to let people speak towards your shoulder.

Your eyes dropped down his frame again, taking in his outfit and then flicking back up just in time to see him cock an eyebrow at your staring. The two of you must have looked like you were intense conversation despite not saying anything for a few beats, standing too close to be casual. Not to mention the look in his eyes that made you look back down towards your hands after a few seconds of holding eye contact.

“I wouldn’t be avoiding you Heeseung.” You were shaking your head and fidgeting with your hands that were clasped together in front of you.

You weren’t technically lying, you hadn’t been actively going out of your way to not interact with him but you had also made no attempt to be near his side of the backyard.

He was nodding slowly down at you but you didn’t think he looked convinced. You would’ve been more worried about it and the fact you potentially hurt his feelings if it wasn’t for the fact he was suddenly taking more steps towards you. You instinctively moved backwards as he approached, not realizing how far until your back was colliding with the side of the house and you noted you were completely out of view from the rest of the guest now unless they approached the table directly.

“What are you doing?” You were asking him in a low whisper, staring up at him in surprise and flushing slightly at the way he was still just watching you, almost with a sense of amusement.

“Nothing. Just talking to you.” He was retorting casually but his hand was reaching up to push your hair behind your ear, falling down to rest on your side afterwards and you sucked in a breath at the feeling of him touching you.

You’d had contact with him hundreds of times before, stuck sitting on his knee during packed car rides or being smushed together on a couch during group movie night. You never thought for more than a second about it, slapping his arm when he would look at you and raise his eyebrows suggestively but other than that it was never something that lingered in your mind.

You knew immediately that this wouldn’t be the case for the way he was touching you now.

His hand was large and almost completely expanding the surface of your side, his fingers drumming along your hipbone for a second before remaining still like he was waiting to see if you were going to push him away. You thought about it, your instinct telling you to get him away from you due to your weakening self control and apparent moral ambiguity but your mind couldn’t help but to recall what Yunjin had said a few hours ago.

“We can’t do this.” You were telling him despite your uncertainty but your voice wasn’t stern in any sense and you let your hand come up to rest against his arm again to really drive forward your lack of meaning.

“Do what?” He was turning his head slightly like he was confused but there was a small smirk on his lips and he ducked his head down closer to yours, pulling your hips off the house so you were closer to him. “What are we doing Y/N?”

He was definitely teasing you now and you felt slightly breathless at how intimidating he suddenly seemed, feeling like you’d entered another dimension in which you were somehow getting goosebumps from the way Lee Heeseung held onto you.

You wondered if he found this as weird as you did or if he had changed so much to the point where he wasn’t thinking too much about toeing the line with his best friends sister. The boy you knew wasn’t big with girls, you never heard him talk about them with the others or brag about any interactions he had with the opposite gender.

He was especially silent on the topic whenever you were in the room, listening in from the kitchen despite the bored expression on your face. You’d catch sight of him sending you nervous glances as they asked him who he had a crush on at school and you’d smile at him before going upstairs and casually telling your friends about your brothers weird friend and his crush on you.

You didn’t know this Heeseung as well and that was clear to you by the way you could feel his breath fanning your face and your vision being completely blocked by his large frame keeping you pinned against the house.

Maybe this new version of him didn’t care about your history or how much conflict would arise if somebody were to suddenly want to quench their thirst right now and catch the two of you in such a compromising position. Maybe he put no meaning behind teasing you like this and he simply was just bored and looking to flirt with the nearest girl around his age.

“Why are you doing this?” You decided it couldn’t hurt to just directly ask him, although you weren’t sure how true that was considering you felt his hand immediately tense.

“Maybe I just missed you.” He was answering smoothly despite clearly being thrown off and you could feel his thumb swiping up and down against your dress, frowning slightly at the small shrug he gave you.

“You missed me?” You whispered back, keeping your tone light and almost teasing to try and revert him back to being comfortable around you again. He didn’t say anything but he watched you intently as you spoke. “You could’ve called.”

“Would you have answered?” His responses were quick like he’d been practicing again and you lost the soft smile that had been building up at the feeling of his touch.

“Why do you keep saying things like that?” You poured out at him in confusion, not understanding the multiple accusations like you had; at some point, upset him or made him feel ignored.

He didn’t say anything for a bit again and he seemed unfocused for a few seconds, you squeezed his arm softly to try and bring his focus back on to you and when he looked down at you again, you almost thought you were looking at him from five years ago.

You didn’t rush him to answer you but you felt slightly sick at the lack of understanding you currently seemed to have, also still stuck on the fact he had directly said he missed you. You had missed being around your family and you missed seeing all the boys together causing mayhem, missed the long summer nights and weekends up at the lake.

You weren’t sure you had specifically missed Lee Heeseung. He made you laugh a lot more than the other boys despite you never showing it to lessen his ego and you felt closer to him at times considering he was the oldest, easily understanding most of your struggles or difficulties whilst the other boys hadn’t begun to mature enough to properly empathize with you.

And sure he was cute. You felt thrown off completely by what Yunjin had said earlier about him always being attractive, definitely never considering him in that way and completely blind to the fact your friends apparently had.

“You were busy, I don’t know.” He was suddenly saying and taking you out of your consideration, vaguely answering your question. “I was just some stupid kid.”

His words seemed heavy and like they carried more meaning than just being the reason he didn’t pick up a phone and call you while you were away. You thought for a second so you could approach the sensitive subject carefully.

“That’s not why.” You were shaking your head and he watched you in anticipation, his hand instinctively pulling you forward again and you let yourself be tugged up against him. “You were Jungwon’s friend. You are Jungwon’s friend.”

You correcting yourself to remind him that it was still true made his eyes darken slightly. You felt guilty for saying it considering he had clearly thought his age was the issue and potentially decided that things would be different now but you crushed that hope by admitting that the thing that kept your relationship distant was not something he could change.

Despite feeling like he was hinting at something, you were still clueless to his intent and were speaking in a general sense, why you hadn’t considered him a friend or ever expected a phone call.

“So you don’t see me as a kid?” He was latching on to the good part of what you had said and you saw that confidence return slightly, your back pressing against the wall again but this time flush against his front.

“I did but…” You trailed off when your breath caught in your throat at the feeling of his hands sliding off your hip and instead landing on your lower back.

You felt the same wave of arousal you had in the kitchen when he leaned over you, staring up at him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips as you waited to see what he was going to do. Every time you focused in on who exactly it was touching you, you felt a bit dizzy but you couldn’t deny what you were feeling when he shifting his hips over yours and ducking his head closer to your neck.

“Heeseung.” You squeaked out in warning and you felt him pull you tighter at the sound of your voice saying his name, your tone breathy as he slotted his knee so it was resting between your legs.

He was barely touching you, not a single inch of skin touching skin and his leg just hovering between yours but you felt like your stomach was on fire and you were overwhelmed with desire for him suddenly, something you couldn’t remember feeling for anybody in recent years.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He was whispering back to you and his lips were hovering over yours, brushing against them occasionally as he spoke and his eyes were dark enough to make a shiver run through your body.

You were parting your lips to answer him, to deny him stopping and ask him to keep doing whatever he wanted as long as he was still touching you but you quickly froze up when you heard the sound of Jake’s voice getting closer, loudly announcing his need for your dad’s famous punch.

Heeseung didn’t need to be told to remove himself from you, immediately taking two big steps back and you suddenly felt extremely cold and empty now that you were left stood against the house alone, dress slightly ridden up from his hands gripping onto your frame and breathing uneven. You steadied yourself and flushed with a deep embarrassment as the older boy casually turned to his friend who had approached the table and struck up a conversation.

He spared you a glance as he spoke to Jake and you realized he was giving you the opportunity to slip away undetected, immediately taking the chance and circling back around to the party.

You quickly approached your mom and told her you weren’t feeling good and you needed to go lay down, ignoring her questions about where your neighbors punch had gone and what had took you so long. You quickly greeted some guest as you walked swiftly through the yard, heading back inside and going to hide in your room until everybody , including Heeseung, had left.

——

You stayed in bed for the entirety of the next day, ignoring Jungwon’s soft knocks as he asked you to come down for breakfast or accompany him and his friends whilst they went out later on in the afternoon.

You felt guilty at your lack of responses, your door locked and hiding underneath your covers as your head spun with the memory of what had happened. You were totally embarrassed that you’d almost been caught with Heeseung, not even capable of imagining how hurt your brother might feel if you were found with one of his closest friends in such a way.

The two of you had never talked about it before because he knew you’d never considered any of them in that way, he’d roll his eyes and groan at Heeseung’s attempts of flirting with you but he seemed to know better than to take it seriously.

It still wasn’t a line you ever wanted to cross, not finding it worth the chance of upsetting him and damaging your close relationship.

You felt terrible that you were considering it now, contemplating if it was worth listening to your bodies wants and the way your stomach turned every time Heeseung entered a room you were in. So you had decided today you wouldn’t give the situation any more opportunity to grow, you definitely couldn’t stand being in a car with him or out in public like things were casual, like anything that had happened was normal.

It was a few hours after they’d left to their plans that you were getting a text from your brother letting you know that they had all decided to come back to your house to spend the night, not finding any reason to all go to their separate homes considering they’d just be together again tomorrow.

You knew he was only letting you know so you didn’t accidentally step on Sunoo asleep on the living room floor or get spooked by Riki heading to the bathroom at 3am but you couldn’t help but take it as the universe giving you some warning that Heeseung was going to be back in the house.

You sent him a quick text letting him know you didn’t mind and thanking him for the heads up before you were laying the device back down on your chest, staring up at your ceiling and eventually hearing the sounds of the boys all entering the house with loud laughs and heavy footsteps as they changed into their sleep clothes and made makeshift blanket beds on the floor between the couches.

It was vibrating against your chest after about half an hour of zoning out in contemplation and you ignored it for a few minutes before realizing it could potentially be Jungwon needing something, already feeling guilty enough about ignoring him in real life and not wanting to add to your misery by doing it virtually too.

Lee Heeseung : Are you awake?

You froze up at the notification on your phone, closing down the screen immediately and sitting up in bed with a jump. You took a few breaths and waited a moment before you were turning on the screen again to confirm what you had read.

Hesitantly, you swiped open the screen and watched it unlock onto you and Heeseung’s text conversation. You could see the one above, him having wished you a happy birthday two years ago and you replying back with a small photo of a cute dog saying thank you. He had hearted your message but never actually replied to the dry response from you and your heart twisted uncomfortably as your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Y/N : yeah why

Y/N : are you okay?

You hesitantly sent the second message before flipping your phone back around nervously and waiting to feel it vibrate again.

Lee Heeseung : Can you let me in?

You froze for a second in confusion, not fully understanding what he was talking about until your eyes were slowly trailing up towards your lock door. You could feel your heart racing as you slowly stood to go and open it, mouth parting softly when it revealed him standing in the hallway.

His hair was messy and damp like he’d just washed it, wearing a black tshirt and sweatpants for sleeping in. You weren’t sure if the other boys were already sleeping or if he was just acting on impulse and not thinking before coming to your bedroom. You had a feeling it might’ve been the latter considering the smell of alcohol coming from him as he shuffled past you into your bedroom.

You watched him flop down onto your bed, his face pressed into your pillow as he laid on his stomach. You sighed softly but followed behind him, opting to sit on the edge of your bed beside him instead of crawling back underneath the covers and putting yourself in a dangerous position. “You’re drunk?”

“No.” He was rolling over flat onto his back with a low groan and turning his head once he completely rolled, looking at you with low hazy eyes. “Just had a few drinks.”

This sentence felt weird to hear come out of his mouth, still underaged now technically but he’d been young enough when you left that he didn’t even consider drinking. You gave him a disbelieving stare but you could tell he was being honest, only slightly slurring his words and his eyes were sharp and focused as he stared at you.

“God.” He was suddenly letting out in a breathy voice and you raised an eyebrow in question. “If you told me from five years ago that’d I’d be in your bedroom… he would’ve punched me in the face.”

You laughed softly at his abrupt confession, shifting on the bed so you were sat fully on it and leaning against your headboard. You were thinking something similar, the image of both of you side by side in your pajamas would’ve most likely caused 18 year old you to scream bloody murder and kick him out of your bedroom.

“Don’t exaggerate.” You told him softly with a smile, he laughed a bit and then was shaking his head against your bed.

“I’m serious, you have no idea how many times I..” He was suddenly trailing off and freezing like he had said too much, your own smile slowly slipping off in confusion as you watched

him glance over at you. Your eyes habitually shot down to his shirt for a second, taking deep breaths that caused his broad chest to rise and fall.

When you looked back up at him, his eyes had darkened more and you held your breath as his hand slowly moved closer to where you were sitting. You didn’t say anything when you felt his knuckles grazing over your bare thigh, wearing shorts to bed typically and suddenly being grateful you had.

It was the first time he had directly touched you with no layers in between and if you weren’t already set on risking everything to feel him touch you again, now it was increased tenfold at the feeling of his warm skin against yours. He was flipping his hand over so the entirety of his palm was resting on the middle of your thigh but he didn’t move it again, just testing the water.

“How many times you what?” You whispered to him, even though something told you that you already knew the answer. You still wanted to hear him say it and your patience grew thin as he did nothing but watch you with low hazy eyes. “Heeseung.”

“I’ve probably had too much to drink.” He was laughing softly and closing his eyes but you could tell he was just trying to distract you from what he had almost said, clearly embarrassed at his loose tongue and laughing out of nerves.

You don’t know why you didn’t drop the subject, why you didn’t just nod your head and ask him something safe like how their night out was. You were totally bewildered by yourself when your hand was reaching down to cover his, sliding it up your thigh a touch until his thumb was hitting the bottom of your small shorts. His eyes shot up to yours and widened a bit before looking back down towards your lower half.

“I won’t make fun of you.” You were trying to reassure him but your voice had a similar nervous shake to it, especially at the feeling of his hand tensing. “I just.. want to hear you say it.”

“Used to jerk off to you all the time.” He was saying it in one breath and you tensed up at his sudden words. He wasn’t trying to sound sexy or tease you, simply fulfilling your request with urgency as soon as he noticed you didn’t mind what he was implying. “Almost every time I saw you.”

You’d frozen up for a few second at the vulgarity of the statement before you felt the familiar rush of arousal running through you, accelerated by the way he was mindlessly kneading your thigh as he watched you to see your reaction to his confession.

It was hard for you to imagine, obviously understanding boy hormones paired with the fact he had clearly had some form of interest in you back then but you had no idea it went as far as it did. You were completely clueless to the fact that he was genuinely fantasizing over you, touching himself once he got home and thinking about doing god knows what whilst he did it.

The thought should’ve made you uncomfortable, knowing now that he spent all those years thinking about you sexually so often but instead you couldn’t help but shift slightly on the bed so your leg was pressing against his shoulder, lifting your other knee and bending it so his hand could sink between your legs if he wanted to.

“What would you think about?” You were asking him suddenly and he sucked in a breath. Your eyes were wide with curiosity and it almost could’ve passed as innocent if it wasn’t for your hand covering his, keeping his touch on you.

“Fuck… just anything.” He was admitting and he let out another laugh but this one was more so directed towards himself and his past. “Just the thought of you most of the time, didn’t even need to be doing anything.”

“What about the other times?” Your breath was hitching when his thumb was shifting forward again and accidentally swiping underneath your shorts, something so small feeling magnified by the heavy tension in the room.

“Just wanted to touch you I think.” His eyes were fluttering close like he was lost in thought and you watched the side of his face intensely. “Sometimes I’d think about you teaching me shit, showing me how to do stuff that would make you feel good.”

His answer, although clearly filthy and way past the line you’d silently established, was strangely sweeter than you’d expected it to be. You were prepared to hear him admit how much he wanted to fuck you, prove to you what a man he was all along. Instead he had imagined just being able to feel you, to learn what you liked and what made you feel pleasure.

“But you know stuff now don’t you?” Your voice was soft but he definitely caught it, his eyes flickering open and looking at you with something heavy.

“Yeah.” He was breathing out. “I do.”

He was starting to sit up after saying that but you hurriedly put your hand on his chest to stop him, instead laying down as much as he was so you were laying against his side while he was still flat on his back with his head propped up on your pillows. You were practically curled into his side now, keeping one of your hands on his chest and using the other to rest under your head as you looked at him.

You weren’t sure how much experience Heeseung had although he had just alluded to doing something before, you toyed with the idea that he could be lying to try and impress you but one of your favorite things about him was his blunt honesty whenever you directly asked him a question.

“Can you show me?” You heart was racing as you voiced your request, his eyebrows furrowing with confusion before your hand started to slide down his chest and stomach, stopping at the waistband of his sweatpants.

His breath hitched again at the implication but he was quickly nodding and shifting slightly so he could pull them down, wasting no time in case you started to come to your senses and change your mind or ask him to leave you bedroom. You’d seen Heeseung in his underwear before, or swim trunks bordering on the same amount of exposed skin, but it was a noticeably different setting now.

His legs were thick with muscle now and more importantly, he was clearly already hard underneath the fabric despite the fact you’d barely touched each other. Whatever he was thinking about with his eyes closed seemed to have done the trick and you kept your eyes glued on his lower half before glancing at him again to see what he was waiting for.

“How is this happening right now?” He was muttering under his breath to himself and you didn’t reply, mouth parting in a small gasp when he moved his hand to cup his bulge through the thin fabric.

You watched with slightly widened eyes as he rubbed himself, letting out small groans and sucking in tight breaths and he tried to keep himself calm under your intense gaze. You could feel him continuously looking at your face but you didn’t take your eyes off of where his hand was.

His stomach tightened when you were moving yours up off where it was resting on the bed between you, pushing his shirt up slightly so it wasn’t in the way of his movements and also so you could watch the way the muscles contracted with every touch. He had goosebumps on his arm from the way your fingers slowly trailed up his stomach, eventually laying flat over his belly button and feeling the way he took deep breaths the more overwhelmed he got.

“Is this how you’d do it?” You were suddenly asking him, increasingly curious about his habits and he shook his head softly with another grunt. “Did you ever do it here?”

“Fuck.” He was forcing out as he laughed again softly in disbelief, you finally looked at his face and he was watching you intensely with a flush on his cheeks. “Y-your birthday.. the pool party after you hugged me goodbye in that pink swimsuit.”

“You remember my swimsuit?” The surprise slipped into your voice and he gave you a heavy look, like it was something obvious that he would remember something so small and specific about you.

Your stomach felt like it was on fire at the thought of him not even being able to make it home after you’d pressed yourself up against him absentmindedly, needing to resort to relieving himself quickly in your bathroom just because you’d been showing some skin.

Your hand was pushing up his shirt more again, rubbing up and down his stomach and your eyes flickered down again just in time to see him pushing his hand underneath the waistband of his underwear and letting out a big breath as he finally touched himself without anything in the way.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you wondered if he was trying to calm himself down to make this last longer, testing the theory by shifting your leg so it was over his right one and resting near where his hand was currently working against himself. His free hand was coming up to instinctively grab onto your bare skin and stop you from making contact with where he was throbbing, gripping just under your knee tightly and shaking his head at you.

You smiled softly, cheeks flushing at the fact he’d clearly caught on to what you were doing but you were grateful when he didn’t remove his hand from you, instead sliding it back up to your thigh and holding it tight and still on top of him.

“I can’t believe this is real.” He was mumbling again and you snorted a laugh at his second exclamation of amazement, ducking your head down so your forehead hit his shoulder and you could feel his heart beating so fast you were almost worried when your hand slid further up his chest.

“Heeseung.” Your voice automatically made his focus snap back on you and he eagerly nodded to show he was listening. “I want to see you.”

He paused for a second before nodding again and hurrying to fulfill your request, shifting his lower half so he could move his boxers farther down on his thighs and give you a clearer view of the way he was touching himself, you laid your head on his shoulder and turned it sideways so you could watch him, stroking himself slowly to full hardness while trying not to overwhelm himself.

Definitely not for the first time, you found yourself thinking about how pretty he was. He’d always been a pretty boy to you, even back when you were younger but you were realizing now that almost every single part of him was apparently perfectly crafted and beautiful, another wave of arousal ripping through you as you watched him twist his hand around his impressive length and buck his hips softly in pleasure.

“Sometimes you’d.. fuck.” He was trailing off into a moan and you picked your head up off his shoulder to look at his face and raise an eyebrow. “Sometimes when you’d sit on my lap during road trips.. god I was so worried you’d feel how hard I’d get just from being that close to you.”

“You should’ve said something.” You were telling him with a small frown but you both knew how that would have turned out, absolutely no chance of you returning his desires or even allowing him to say such things to you without upset.

He still seemed to appreciate even being able to humor the idea that you would have let him touch you back then, his hips twitching under your leg and you softly rubbed his stomach after laying your head back down near his collarbone. You could tell that Heeseung was close and clearly trying to drag it out for some unknown reason, not working himself as fast as he wanted to and holding his breath tight every few minutes.

You tried to calm down the flush in your face when you were turning your head to kiss alongside his jaw gently, listening to the inhale he took and the way his arm tensed from where it was pressed against you.

Your lips slowly trailing across his face and down to his neck seemed to officially push him over the edge, no longer able to delay his orgasm that was rushing through him and causing him to let out groans far too loud for your quiet house. Your hand was leaving his stomach to gently cover his mouth, pulling off his neck with a wet smack to look down again and watch as his stomach twitched under the cum now decorating it.

The silence afterwards was overwhelming, listening to him take deep breaths and calm himself down while your heart was beating so fast you almost feared he could hear it.

An awkwardness settled into your skin and you weren’t sure if it was just you or if he felt it too, the realization of what you’d just done hitting you. This wasn’t just some random hookup, not some guy you wouldn’t have to see after this. This wasn’t something casual or without consequences, you had fully crossed a line that you couldn’t backtrack over with somebody you’d spent most of the second half of your life knowing.

“Are you okay?” His soft voice was a direct reminder of that and your eyes shot up to his face, feeling a sick guilt at the nerves settling into his face now that the spell of lust had died back down.

“Yeah I just…” You sat up more and cleared your throat awkwardly, looking away from him and after a few seconds you were standing to go and get him a rag from your bathroom. “I think you should probably head to bed.”

His mouth parted in surprise and you saw a flicker of hurt pass through his face as you extended the rag to him, feeling his fingers graze against yours as he took it and cleaned himself up with a sudden blush creeping up his neck.

You felt more and more guilt eating away at you as he dressed himself properly again with that look on his face but you couldn’t take seeing him in your bed for another second, the reality of what you had done fully settling in now and leaving you with a sick feeling in your stomach.

Heeseung was standing in the hallway after you’d walked him to the door awkwardly, still just stood in place and staring at you and you softly closed the door on him after wishing him a mumbled goodnight. You knew you should’ve reassured him that it was okay and that he didn’t do anything wrong but that felt like a lie to you right now anyways and you didn’t think it was fair to confuse him by telling him you didn’t mind it.

The guilt remained even after you heard him softly going down the stairs, curling back into your bed and finding that your blankets smelt like him now.

——

The next morning came quickly and you immediately knew you wouldn’t be able to repeat your hermit behavior from yesterday, being woken up by your moms fist slamming on your door and strictly reminding you that you were all meant to go up to the lake house for the weekend.

You groaned softly into your pillow but you knew there was no use in complaining, dragging yourself out of bed despite the fact you’d barely slept more than a few hours after Heeseung had left.

You took the longest to get ready, slipping on a bathing suit underneath a dress and packing a small one strap bag with the essentials. You were criss crossing it over your chest and racing down the steps, hurriedly apologizing to your mother as you passed her glaring at you in the doorway.

When you got outside, your footsteps slowed to a stop as you watched all the boys and you dad loading up the van, frowning slightly as your body quickly reminded your brain about what had happened. Jungwon gave you a small smile and greeting and you could see Heeseung following his line of sight and perking up at the sight of you, hoping he didn’t notice how you quickly looked away.

You all piled into the van and luckily your parents knew you far too old to be stuck on somebody’s lap the entire ride, still being stuck pressed tightly between Heeseung and Jay in the back row.

You were grateful for the boy on your right considering he immediately popped in his headphones and pulled his sleep mask over his eyes, not able to say the same about your other seat partner considering he was staring at you intently the second you sat down and making you squirm in your seat.

Your phone was vibrating in your lap and you glanced down at it, picking it up and turning down your music so you could focus on reading the text.

Lee Heeseung : Why are you avoiding me?

He was shifting beside you, obviously embarrassed you were reading his text and you looked over at him quickly before flushing and going back to stare at the message on your screen. Your fingers hovered for a few seconds as you tried to think of a response, knowing you couldn’t just ignore him and sit in awkward silence for the next two hours.

Y/N : im not.. we can talk once we get up there

You sent the text and shut your screen off quickly, watching the side of his face as he turned on his own device to read it. He nodded softly at you after he had and your heart clenched at the hesitation in his eyes.

He took the hint and didn’t try to talk to you again for the rest of the ride, making you feel weirdly disappointed despite him just following your instructions. You felt confused by your own actions so you couldn’t imagine what he was thinking, your body and mind finding comfort just from the feeling of his leg pressed against yours but at the same time you felt regretful about what you’d done.

You felt even worse when your brother was glancing back in his seat to smile at you with excitement, giving you an encouraging thumbs up and you forced a smile back at him.

You turned the music in your headphones back up to full volume and tilted your head sideways so it could land on Jay’s shoulder, closing your eyes and trying not to think about the hole you’ve dug yourself.

——

Heeseung and you didn’t get a chance to talk until later on in the day, all the kids being tasked with unpacking bags and making adjustments to the lake house that hadn’t been used since last summer.

Jake and you were sat in the living room, calmly discussing sleeping arrangements and who would have to stay back and help with dinner cleanup rather than go and swim with the rest of the group. You were sat criss crossed on the couch and he was directly beside you, gently shoving your knee as he laughed at an off handed comment you’d made.

“Y/N.” Your head snapped up at the sound of a new voice in the doorway and you and Jake both stared in confusion when you took in the sharp glare Heeseung was sending in your directions. “Can I talk to you? Outside.”

He said the last word pointedly and you frowned at the look he sent his friend, glancing at Jake before standing up off the couch and ruffling his hair affectionately. He seemed to take the hint that you were leaving and awkwardly nodded in understanding.

Heeseung was already turning to leave before you even managed to get close to him and you followed behind him as he passed through the house, exiting out of the slider doors onto the overhanging deck that showcased the lake view. You pulled your sleeves over your hands, feeling the windy chill of the water now that the sun was starting to set but a shiver was running through you for other reasons when the boy turned to send you a hurt look.

“Why are you only ignoring me?” He was spitting out and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at how upset he sounded. “What, you’ve seen my dick and now you can’t even talk to me?”

Your mouth was parting in a gasp and you approached him swiftly, covering his mouth with your hand and glancing around at all the open windows and terrain to make sure nobody had heard his outburst of confession.

“What are you talking about Hee? I said we could discuss it later.” You were whispering yelling back to him and his eyes softened at the nickname before he was wrapping his hand around your wrist and removing the cover over his mouth.

“You couldn’t put any urgency behind that?” He sounded less angry now and more hurt, staring down at you with a muddied expression and you felt the guilt settle back in full force. “Especially after kicking me out like that last night, I’ve been going crazy.”

You sighed but didn’t say anything for a few seconds, letting the crashing waves fill up the silence as your heart started to beat faster. You weren’t sure which direction you should go, probably easier to lie to him and tell him you’d made a mistake and it wasn’t going to happen again. That seemed favorable over having to explain that you kicked him out because you couldn’t stop thinking about him as much as you were already.

“I know I said some crazy things.” He was moving his hand off your wrist to hold onto your palm gently, holding it at the same level of his chest and looking into your eyes with a hint of desperation in his. “If I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry. I’d never ever want to do that to you.”

“You didn’t.” You were shaking your head and quick to reassure him, not wanting him to fall into that mindset. “It’s just.. we can’t do this Heeseung. It’s not right and you know we can’t.”

“Why?” He was saying it in bewilderment, really emphasizing the word like he truly didn’t understand what was so wrong about you messing around together.

“Look Hee, I get that it’s hard but it’s not that big of a deal. You’re going to go off to college and find a girl your age that, preferably isn’t your best friends sister.” You were sighing and giving him a sad smile as you spoke, trying to lighten the situation and calm him down. “It’s not like you’re inlove with me or anything.”

He froze up at the words and didn’t say anything, just staring down at you with a strange expression that took you a few seconds to decipher. Your mouth parted with realization and you quickly dropped your hand from his, taking a small step back and covering your lips with your fingers.

He winced at your reaction and looked away from you so you couldn’t see the way his eyes shook, body tight and rigid where he stood in front of you. Neither of you needed to say anything for you to understand the situation.

“Listen Y/N.” He was starting to try and explain but you raised your hand to silence him, shaking it slightly to really indicate that you couldn’t handle hearing him speak right now.

“Since when?” You were asking quickly, voice stern and forceful as your mind kept replaying the past few years and any possible sign you’d missed from the boy. Your stomach turned at the fact he wasn’t just making passes out you to have some fun, it didn’t mean nothing to him what had happened last night and you’d probably deeply hurt him when you kicked him out afterwards.

“Since forever.” He was saying it in a weak tone and his nose scrunched up like he knew the words would put the final nail in the coffin, confirming that he’s always had feelings for you.

“Fuck.” You were breathing out and taking another step away from him, shaking your head and feeling tears well up in your eyes as you looked at him.

He didn’t say anything else after that, knowing there was nothing he could say that could convince you this situation was alright. You wanted to tell him that you weren’t upset with him, that he didn’t do anything wrong by feeling this way or telling you, but your words completely failed you as shock took over your body.

You felt sick over kicking him out without any care last night, even worse about how much you rejected him in high school and the realization that he most likely never had a girlfriend because he was so enamored with you all these years. You thought about the boys you’d brought home, never thinking twice about the way his jaw clenched as he left the room whenever somebody would stay for dinner.

Then you thought about the last time you remember seeing him, the nervous look in his eye as he handed you the bouquet full of your favorite flowers and the way he’d gotten caught off as he tried to explain why he’d gotten them.

“The babys breath.” You were finally saying after a bit of tense silence, looking up at him and finding him already watching you with a dejected look. You didn’t need to explain what you were implying for him to understand, nodding his head softly.

“Everlasting love.” He was answering in a weak voice and he gave you a sad smile, eyes watering as he turned his head again to look out towards the water.

You weren’t sure what to say to him after that, just watching the side of his face and feeling your heart shatter for all the time he spent struggling with this. You couldn’t lie and tell him you understood how he felt and it wasn’t fair to yourself to feel guilty when you didn’t know but you cared about him deeply and you didn’t want him to be in pain.

He was tensing him when you stepped closer, resting your hand gently on his arm to warn him of your approach before you were pulling him in for a hug.

His chest lifted with a heavy inhale of relief at the feeling of you wrapping your arms around him, rubbing his back softly and letting him duck his head down into your neck. You found yourself not caring about the possibility of somebody walking out and seeing you in such an intimate position, only focusing on making him feel better and helping him understand the affection you carried for him.

You stayed like that for a while, just feeling his chest rise against yours and his soft breath on your neck. Then you were pulling back to get a better look at him and his expression, trying to read what he was feeling.

You’d planned to say something of comfort, to voice actual reassurance but you had no opportunity to do so considering he was leaning forward the second your lips began to part.

Kissing Heeseung was never something you’d thought about, even after the past few days it hadn’t been your number one focus but you suddenly felt very stupid for taking the action for granted. You’d kissed lots of people before, boyfriends or blind dates but nobody had ever felt as perfect as he did.

His hands were coming up to cup your face, gentle in the way he was touching you but pushing into the kiss with a raging desperation that made your heart clench again. You returned it the best you could, not able to match up with his years of longing but just as intoxicated by the feeling of him against you.

Heeseung kept pulling you deeper and deeper in, holding onto you like he was terrified of you pulling away and telling him it was a mistake again, that he was something you weren’t able to do. You squeezed your arms that were still around his back to try and silently reassure him that you weren’t going anywhere and he pulled back to place his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes with tears still in his.

You felt your heart shatter again at the look on his face, then even more so at the realization that you just wanted to keep kissing him.

“Just give me a chance.” He was whispering out and his lip grazed yours as he spoke the words.

You frowned softly and looked at him, standing on your tip toes for a second to press another kiss against his lips and bringing a hand up to gently push the hair out of his face. He watched you as you did this but you could tell he wasn’t fully letting himself be vulnerable until you confirmed that you would give this an actual attempt.

You stared at him for a while, your mind and your heart telling you two different things and your face crumbled slightly. “We can’t.”

Your voice came out in a small whisper but he caught it immediately, expression hardening up as he took a step away from you. Your hands were reaching out to try and grab him again instinctively but he was clenching his jaw and shaking his head and he turned to leave the deck, heading back inside without another word and leaving you standing there with the taste of him still on your lips.

——

The next two days were miserable, full of him clearly avoiding you and your body longing for him to be close even for a second. You didn’t try to approach him again or complain considering he had to deal with this feeling for half of his life, wanting something this desperately that you couldn’t have was really dampening your mood for the trip and you’d barely left the lake house.

Your mother had actually convinced you to go down to the water today, sensing your sour mood and just assuming you were still feeling weird about coming home. She told you that some sun on your skin would make you feel better and you agreed with her despite the different circumstances.

Dinner had just finished and you were wearing your bathing suit in the kitchen, at the sink cleaning up the dishes from all the boys who had already raced down to the water. You’d told your parents to go ahead without out since they had cooked and been working so hard, citing that you’d follow behind after you finished cleaning up.

It was barely twenty minutes into clearing the dining room and scrubbing at the seemingly endless amount of plates when you heard somebody come back into the house.

“Mom? I’m almost done.” You were calling out, thinking she was coming back inside to check on you but you froze up when somebody else rounded the corner instead.

Heeseung didn’t come fully into the dining room, just watching you for a moment with an unreadable expression on his face. He was only wearing his swim trunks and his hair was dripping onto his shoulders. You would’ve scolded him for the small puddle forming under his feet but you knew it wasn’t your place anymore.

“Oh. Did you need something?” Your voice was awkward and you saw him tongue his cheek as you spoke, glancing away for a second before he was taking a few steps further into the room and you quickly looked down at the sink so you didn’t have to stare at him.

You expected him to just ignore you and pass through the kitchen, getting whatever it was that he needed before heading back outside to the water.

Your mouth was dropping up in a surprised gasp when he did the opposite and your entire body tensed up at the feeling of him directly behind you. He wasn’t fully touching you but you could feel the wetness of his shorts graze against your lower back and a shiver ran through you, both from the cold and his close proximity.

“What are you-“ You were cut off as your words turned into a soft whine, Heeseung completely pressing against you from behind and your stomach hit the edge of the counter uncomfortably.

You could feel his hands sliding over your waist to grab at your hips, tugging just your backside harder against him and shifting you forward until you were practically bending over the sink. You could feel the loose water from doing the dishes wetting your bikini top, nipples hardening under the cold water and you instinctively shifted your hips backwards to try and get away from the feeling.

“Heeseung.” You were gasping out in a warning but he didn’t seem to take it as one, squeezing your hips harder at the sound of your voice.

It was an overwhelming high to be touched by him again, your body lighting up with an intense fire at the feeling of his body pressed against you but the logical side of you couldn’t help but feel strange considering you hadn’t talked in two days due to your previous rejection.

“Do you want it?” His voice was low and you felt tears spring to your eyes with how badly you’d missed hearing him speak to you, squeezing them shut even though he couldn’t see your face anyways.

He was shifting his hips purposely, dragging his cock against your barely clothed bottom and you arched instinctively back into him, head dropping lower into another small whine and you were nodding your head in earnest. He didn’t react to your silent confirmation, squeezing your side almost uncomfortably until you got the memo.

“Yes yes, please. I want it so bad.” You were gasping out and he automatically rolled his hips into yours again, tugging you further into him each time he did it so you could fully feel him dragging himself against you. The cold of his shorts quickly disappeared considering you were completely on fire, throbbing in your bottoms and trying your hardest to push against his grip so you could meet him halfway in his slow movements.

“Walking around dressed like this.” His voice was pained as he spoke, low and bordering on a growl as he thrust against you with more force. “I know this is what you wanted, wanted me to come and fuck you until you couldn’t think.”

It hadn’t even your intention when you dressed in your swimsuit but you couldn’t lie and pretend you hadn’t thought about him as you put it on, not needing to deliberate between the black or pink one before you were slipping the latter on and heading downstairs.

He was relentless in the way he was fucking against you, thankful for his rough hands on your hips stopping you from slamming continuously into the counters. You were a nonstop mess of moans and whines as he kept getting harder and more rough, his cock pressing against you and making your head spin with desire for him.

Your hand was slipping off the counter and shakily going around your back, tugging at the string of fabric on your waist impatiently and his breath caught in his throat, pausing in his movements and causing a frustrated whine to slip out of you.

“Yeah?” He was genuinely asking but the tone in which he said it made your stomach flip, more wetness pushing out of you as you practically sobbed with the need to feel him. He took the hint this time and was hurriedly pulling down your bottoms, pausing once your core was completely bare and exposed. “Fuck Y/N, look at you.”

You flushed at the adoration in his voice and you were grateful he couldn’t see your face from this angle, your hips shifting uncomfortably and accidentally showcasing yourself off to his eager eyes more. He didn’t say anything else but you could still feel him staring at you, letting out a sharp cry when his hands were coming up to touch you gently. He wasn’t groping you, his fingers experimentally spreading you apart so he could see the way your hole clenched around nothing.

“So fucking pretty.” His voice was sounding again and you felt truly humiliated now, your heart racing faster with every compliment said in that genuine tone.

You decided to put an end to his gentle behavior, pushing your hips backwards so his fingers were accidentally touching you more and he was getting the memo that you wanted him to fuck against you again. You knew he wouldn’t actually fuck you, not quick and rough like this but you were grateful when he was standing up to press against you again.

“Please Hee, please.” You were whimpering out and he wasted no time building it up slow, immediately gripping your waist again and aggressively fucking himself against you. He was still wearing his thin swim trunks but you could feel it all so much better now that you were naked and he was completely hard.

His fingers were wet against your side from where he’d been touching you and you felt dizzy as his hard cock keep pressing against you, throbbing and on the verge of begging for him to just take you raw right here in the kitchen.

Your heart was racing at the thought of somebody walking in right now, the floor plan so open that all it would take is somebody needing a towel or a quick trip to the bathroom. Heeseung didn’t seem to care and you let out another cry when his hand was off your hip and tangling in your hair, tugging softly and then harder when you let out a moan of approval.

He was pulling you up by his grip so your back was pressed against his chest, wrapping his free arm around your stomach to keep you in place and he kept humping against you.

You felt embarrassed that he could see your face now, staring at your side profile and the way your mouth was open and letting out streams of moans. His big hand was sliding off your stomach to aggressively grope your chest, tugging down your bathing suit top with little effort and wasting no time before he was squeezing the mounds and tugging on your hardened nipples.

It was rough and aggressive, bordering on painful but it was everything you needed after him barely even looking at you the entire weekend. You were leaning into his brutal touches and pushing your hips back against his and he continued to fuck up into you.

You knew the scene had to be pornographic considering the way he had swiftly undressed you, not even fully taking off your top as it dangled over your stomach.

His hand was abandoning your chest to grip your jaw and you were confused for a moment as he twisted your head sideways until you realized he was trying to move your face closer together, his hooked over your shoulder and still watching your expressions this entire time.

Your eyes softened when you saw his face for the first time since he’d stepped behind you, tears of pleasure completely slipping out now despite his unreadable expression. His eyes were dropping to your lips and less than a second later he was pulling you in for a deep kiss. The kiss was a direct opposition to the way he was ramming into you, soft and gentle as he held your cheek to stop you from turning your head straight again.

You melted into his touch, completely forgetting about the addicting feeling of him pushing against you as his tongue slipped softly into your mouth and you desperately tried to take him deeper.

“You like it?” He was whispering into your mouth and you nodded immediately, trying to stretch and pull him into the kiss again but he didn’t let you and you whined softly. “Tell me you like it, tell me I make you feel good.”

“You make me feel so good.” You were crying out in stuttered gasp as he rammed into you with a few particularly hard thrust, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of him pressed against your swollen clit and the familiar feeling in your stomach building up.

“Make you feel better than anyone else right? I know how to please you, don’t I?” He was saying it in a low steady voice but you could tell he was genuinely searching for the reassurance and not just bragging about his abilities. Your heart clenched at the reminder of your conversation and how he might be feeling right now but you nodded quickly.

“Only you Hee, only you.” You were mumbling back to him in a fucked out voice and he finally kissed you again, wet and sloppy before he was letting go of your face and sliding his hand down your stomach.

Your stomach tightened up at the feeling of his fingers against you again, paired with the stimulation of his cock rubbing into you slowly. He was rubbing your clit gently and kissing you at the same time, messier now that he wasn’t holding your face in place and you could barely keep yourself focused long enough to control all your limbs.

“Cmon baby.” He was whispering into your mouth and you let out a small sob at the overwhelming pleasure building up, completely relying on him now to hold you up. “Go ahead and cum for me sweetheart, it’s alright.”

His words were so gentle despite the roughness in which he was still handling you and the combination of that, mixed with his low voice in your ear, quickly sent you over the edge. His fingers weren’t moving off of you as you came, dipping lower between your thighs to better feel the wetness dripping out of you and you were worried you’d complete collapse from the ecstasy of him touching you like that.

He held you up like that for a few beats and let you catch your breath before he was gently lifting you up and placing you on top of the towel that was on the counter for the wet dishes.

You watched him with hooded and tired eyes as he helped tie back up your top and pull your bottoms up over your sensitive core. Pausing awkwardly when he wet a rat and gently wiped down your thighs and stared at the marks he’d left on your hips and waist.

“Hee.” You were muttering out and he automatically shook his head at the sound of you voice, giving you a hurt look that made your heart fall. He clearly didn’t want to speak about it, or even speak in general right now and you felt a bit sick at the fact he was taking such gentle care of you despite the fact you’d hurt him and didn’t give him the same attention last time you’d done something like this together.

You were freezing up suddenly when you heard somebody coming in through the side door, confused why Heeseung wasn’t moving out of the damning position he was stood in between your legs as you watched Sunghoon round into the house.

Your eyes were wide as you stared at him, preparing to explain yourself until you realized he didn’t look extremely surprised. His eyes glanced at yours like he was slightly thrown off but he just cleared his throat and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “They’re heading up so you might want to go somewhere else.”

He was disappearing to go change as Heeseung mumbled a small thanks, not turning to look at him and you stared down at him in bewilderment.

“You told him?” You whisper yelled and he looked at you when he heard the upset in your voice, watching you with that same unreadable expression and sighing softly.

“He’s always known.” He explained in a casual tone, like it wasn’t a big deal at all that another person knew about your weird situation. You just stared at him in shock as he continued to clean you up softly. “Guess I’m not very good at pretending to not be inlove with you.”

He looked at you after he finished saying the heavy sentence and your face softened slightly, wanting to reach out to him as he took a few steps back and folded the rag up in his hands. You knew he was implying that that was the reason he had approached you just now and your heart hurt at the fact he was still clearly going to be avoiding you.

You could hear the rest of the boys laughing as they came up the stairs and the sound of your dad complaining about their sandy feet on the deck, not bothering to get off the counter and avoid some questions as you watched Heeseung disappear back upstairs where Sunghoon had gone.

——

“But we always have a movie night on the last night.” Sunoo was kneeling on your bed at the lake house, complaining with a small pout as he tugged at the blankets you were currently hiding under. “It’s tradition.”

“I’m really not feeling good guys.” You were groaning and fighting with his grip to try and cover your head back up.

“Jungwon told us to pull out all the guilt tripping tricks.” Riki’s voice was coming from the doorway and you lowered the blanket just enough to be able to glare at him from behind it for bringing up your brother, activating your soft spot that caused you to sigh and release your hold on the fabric.

Sunoo was cheering excitedly and bouncing a little on your bed, standing off of it in a hurry to pull you up and start dragging down towards the living room. You smiled softly at his enthusiasm but it quickly fell off your face when you caught sight of the reason for your hiding.

Heeseung was sitting on the couch, pressed against the arm rest with a bored expression and a large hoodie pulled over his fluffy hair. He wasn’t looking at you but you knew he had heard you coming considering the cloudy expression he had, your own frown slipping onto your face as you looked at him.

The rest of the boys were quickly taking their seats, coming from the kitchen with snacks or the basement with extra blankets and pillows to throw across the floor. You watched them for a bit too long, not noticing until it was too late that they had taken all of the spots except for the one next to Heeseung on the couch.

He seemed to notice this too and his eyes fell on you, guilt in your expression as you looked at him for permission and a small breath of relief slipped out when he gave you a barely noticeable nod.

You were rigid as you sat beside him, trying your hardest to stay still so you didn’t accidentally collide with his legs or side but he scoffed softly before he was sitting up to grab one of the blankets off the floor. You watched him in confusion and he spread it out and placed it over both of you, shifted his body so you had no choice but to lean towards him and your heart raced at the fact you were pressed against his side.

You figured he was going to ignore you for the rest of the trip, possibly for the rest of your time back in town just to clear his head of you, so you were touched that he was still hellbent on you being comfortable even when you weren’t talking.

He glanced over at you as the movie started to play and you gave him a small smile, barely seeing him return it before the lights were flickering off.

The first half of the movie went as normal despite the fact you couldn’t seem to focus with the feeling of Heeseung breathing beside you. Jay was on your right but he’d fallen asleep almost as soon as the lights had gone out and you could hear him snoring softly from where his head was laid back against the couch.

You shifted uncomfortably after about an hour and you could feel Heeseung glancing at you in question before he leaned closer to whisper something in your ear.

“What’s wrong?” He was saying it softly and your face flushed at the proximity and the fact he was talking to you again.

“Nothing… just sore a little bit.” You mumbled back hesitantly, suddenly thinking about the rough way his hands had gripped you yesterday.

He didn’t say anything for a while and you were worried he hadn’t heard you, or even worse he had and was feeling bad about the bruises covering your skin. It wasn’t your intention to bring it up in that way and you were just about to lean forward again to tell him that when you felt his hand sliding over your stomach gently.

You sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling and you saw Sunoo glancing at you in concern, giving him a soft smile and pretending to yawn while you felt Heeseung’s hand sliding across your smooth skin.

You glanced over at him but he was just watching the movie like it was no big deal, like he wasn’t touching you underneath the covers in a room full of people, including your little brother who was laying down on his stomach on the floor in front of you. He wasn’t touching you inappropriately, just softly kneading where the bruises might be but your heart was racing anyways just from being near him.

There was no use in pretending you didn’t have feelings for him, your longing going far beyond kissing him or having him touch you. You’d missed him deeply these past few days of awkwardness, barely getting by listening to him laugh with the other boys or crack jokes with your dad.

It made you feel sick every time his smile dropped when you entered a room, wishing you could say something that would help him feel more comfortable around you that didn’t involve accepting his request at a chance to be together.

“Feel good?” His breath was fanning the side of your face as he spoke into your ear and you stiffened up a bit despite the lack of tease in his tone.

“You can’t say stuff like that.” You warned him in return and when you pulled back you saw that his eyes had darkened in realization, understanding your squirming as his eyes darted to your lips for a second.

He was watching you intently as he rubbed your skin and for a moment you thought he was going to ignore your comment, going to just keep caressing the injuries he’d caused and not address the implication of your words. Then his hand was leaving your side and slipping into your shorts and your mouth parted at the feeling of his fingers pressing against you.

He held eye contact with you as he dipped a finger between your wet folds, rubbing slightly and leaning forward so he could breathe in the small gasp you let out. You instinctively leaned forward to capture him in a kiss but he pulled his head away and glanced around to make sure nobody had seen your mistake.

You’d almost completely forgotten you weren’t alone and your heart sunk for a second before he was applying more pressure against you and you decided you didn’t care. Your hips were rolling forward against his hand and he eyed you with slight warning, using his other hand to try and hold your body still.

He gently took your leg and pulled it across his lap so you were completely spread open for him, rubbing in soft circles for a few seconds before he was sinking a finger deep inside you and curling it up. You would’ve lurched forward if it wasn’t for his hold on you and you quietly leaned your face into his shoulder to muffle the moan that ripped through your throat.

All you could focus on was him, his scent from his hoodie that you were burying your face into it and his large hands moving you around effortlessly. He was pushing another finger in before you had any time to prepare and you rolled your hips again to try and pull him in deeper.

You could feel his hard cock underneath your leg now and you shifted it so it fell directly against him, listening to the way his breath hitched. You were thankful the boys had picked such an action packed movie, reaching its climax and the volume was blaring with loud crashes and explosions.

You wet your lips instinctively, overwhelmed with the desire to kiss him and he noticed the movement, eyes flashing to your lips and then back up to your eyes. You felt completely addicted to him, willing to let him drag you out from the under the covers and fuck you raw right here if that’s what he wanted but he was quickly bringing you back to reality when he was taking his hand away from you.

You felt completely empty and cold as he stood up from the couch within seconds and disappeared upstairs, not sparing you a glance as your eyes widened in shock and you did nothing but watch him leave.

“What happened?” Your brother was turning his head to look at you in confusion and you felt a wave of embarrassment before remembering you were covered by the blanket.

“I don’t know, he said he felt sick.” You quickly lied and Jungwon’s eyes flashed with worry as he glanced back towards the stairs. “I’ll go check on him.”

He gave you a soft smile and a nod before turning back to the movie with interest, not knowing that your stomach was turning uncomfortably as you adjusted your shorts and scurried your way up the stairs and in the direction Heeseung had gone.

You threw open the guest bedroom door when you got up there and found him pacing in upset, hands running through his hair and he froze and shot you a sharp glare when you came inside. You shut the door behind you and looked at him in confusion, taking a few hesitant steps in his direction.

“What wrong? What happened?” You were asking him softly and his expression only darkened with more anger at your gentle confused tone.

“Why the fuck are you doing this?” He was spitting out and your face fell at the hurt in his words, shaking your head to indicate you didn’t understand which only seemed to upset him more. “You said we can’t be together. You said that.”

He was pointing an accusatory finger in your direction and you took another step forward, slightly surprised when he didn’t walk away or tell you to stop approaching. His face twisted up when you got closer however and you were worried he might start to cry.

“You know why I said that.” You were telling him earnestly and your head felt dizzy from how confusing this all was. “It’s not… it’s not because I don’t want to or because I don’t like you. You know that, don’t you?”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and your heart shattered at the realization he clearly didn’t understand that. You felt guilty for not saying it outright and for letting your fear hurt him this bad, your selfishness continuing to let him close physically despite the emotional barrier between the two of you.

“I like you Heeseung.” You were telling him firmly and your hands were reaching up to cup his face, his eyes softening as he instinctively pushed his head into your touch and his hands came up to hold onto your wrist softly. “That isn’t why we can’t be together, it has nothing to do with it.”

He looked sad again at the reminder that you weren’t willing to give this a real chance and you expected him to strike up a rebuttal, to try and convince you again but he didn’t say anything. He was just pulling you into a soft kiss and your hands slowly fell off his face as you leaned into it.

It felt like everything was made right the second you were kissing him again, that terrible feeling disappearing from your stomach and you relished in the comfort and safety that overwhelmed you as his hands held your back gently and kept you against him.

He was pulling back after a bit and your eyes fluttered open in confusion as you looked up at him. “Tell me you can go without it. Tell me that you’ll be able to go back to normal and never touch me again once we get home, and I’ll leave you alone forever.”

His words hung heavy in the little space between your bodies and you knew he already knew your answer without you saying. You knew he had realized the way you crave him, not nearly as long or as tragic as he did for you but it was there and overwhelming. He was simply asking you to say it, to lie to him and give him the answer that he needed to be able to stay away from you.

Your eyes were watering and his hands were gentle in the way they wiped your tears, always gentle even when you didn’t feel your deserved it from him.

“I can’t.” You were repeating the words you’d said on the deck in a broken whisper but this time they didn’t make his face crumble. This time you watched the relief pass through his eyes before he was squeezing you softly and pulling you back up for another deep kiss.

You felt overwhelmingly anxious at the thought of giving it a go, of having to tell Jungwon and risk disappointing him or worse and having to cross that heavy line with Heeseung that you wouldn’t be able to come back from, but you realized that you’d already crossed it the moment you opened the door and saw him again.

So you let Heeseung kiss you in excitement and you giggled into his mouth when he lifted you off the ground for a little spin, unable to contain himself after years of pining and wishing to hold you close like this. You still felt that guilt for not noticing his feelings sooner but you were relieved to know you could make up for it now, pulling him in for a deeper kiss and letting your worries disappear for the time being.

They came back full force the next day when you decided to tell Jungwon before you headed home again.

You didn’t want him to find out on accident, not thinking it was fair for him to walk in on you or somehow just understand from the way you looked at each other. He deserved to be told directly and that’s what you kept telling yourself as you stood in front of the room he was using. Heeseung had offered to come with you to take half of the reaction on himself but you knew it needed to just be you and your brother.

He was smiling at you happily when you pushed the door open slowly but it fell slightly when he noticed the worried look on your face.

“Can we talk?” You were muttering to him and he nodded immediately, taking your hand gently and leading you over to sit on his bed with him. He turned his body to face yours and give you his full attention and your heart swelled from how sweet he always was.

“Are you okay?” He asked in a soft voice and you nodded, hesitating as you tried to think of how to word this in a way that wouldn’t completely take him off guard. “Is this about you and Heeseung hyung?”

Your eyes were widening immediately, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you looked at him in complete surprise. He was still watching you with a gentle worried expression but his mouth quirked up slightly at your reaction to his sudden statement. You dropped your hands back into your lap and your eyebrows furrowed.

“You knew?” You rushed out and he laughed softly before nodding, glancing down at the bed before he was looking at you again and shrugging softly. “How long have you known?”

“I mean.. sorta forever.” He was wincing as he said it in anticipation for the second gasp you let out, followed by a groan as your head fell into your hands. “He used to ask me to marry you like every other night… it took me longer to realize you liked him back but it was bond to happen. I was kind of hoping it would stop you from moving so far away honestly.”

“Wait.. are you saying you thought I liked Heeseung all the way back in high school?” You were cocking your head slightly in bewilderment and now it was his turn to stare at you in confusion, clearly misunderstanding the timeline.

“I mean, yeah. Didn’t you? You’d always talk about him and complain about the stuff he said to you but anyone could tell you thought it was funny.” He was smiling as he spoke, reflecting back on it and you stared at him like he had three heads.

“So I spent this entire time terrified about you finding out, and you knew the entire time?” You were saying it slowly but when he gave you a nod of confirmation you reached forward to shove his shoulder softly.

He laughed at your upset but then he was taking your hand in his and squeezing it, lifting it slightly to bring your attention back on him so you could see how serious he was. You watched your little brother with a new sense of calmness now that he knew and you felt relief running through you as he spoke his next statement.

“As long as you’re happy, I don’t care.” He was saying and you could feel the truth behind his statement, tears springing to your eyes at how sincerely he was telling you this. “Regardless if that means moving far away for school or.. kissing Heeseung.”

You laughed softly at the way his face curled up in disgust at the last part and he smiled before you were pulling him in for a tight hug, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and being extremely grateful that the universe had given you the most understanding little brother to ever exist.

After a few more teary embraces, you were leaving him to finish packing up and heading back to your room. Before you went down the entirety of the hallway, you paused and took a few steps backwards so you were stood in front of a different door instead.

Your heart was pounding slightly and you knocked softly on the familiar wood, standing there and shifting in place as you waited for him to come and answer the door. You’d seen him in a similar way hundreds of times, telling you dinner was ready or showing up at your house to play video games, hundreds of times you’ve opened a door to see his smiling face looking back at you with that same look in his eye.

And now it was time for you to return it, one hundred and one.

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