#i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it

[madamechrissy]

Do I wanna know?

Pairings: Yandere Gojo x Fem reader

Summary: Satoru Gojo knows as soon as he sees you, he'll do anything to have you, but first? He needs you to need him. Ignoring his friendly offer to let you stay with him to save up for a better place, you soon find yourself kicked out by your landlord, and moving in with Satoru. Every thing seems like it's bringing you to need Satoru more and more... yet he doesn't make a move on you, and soon you start putting things together... is Satoru a stalker?? 9k word count

CW - There are SO MANY lol here we go- gaslighting, manipulation, possessive behavior, stalking, Satoru is so Yandere, teasing and tension, explicit sex, rough sex, face smacking, choking, breed kink, videoing without consent, oral sex (both receiving) trying to baby trap mentions of cum, dirty talk (he calls you a slut a lott lol) and misogyny. SATORU BEING PSYCHO but sexy. It's toxic- Based on this drabble

Comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoy this one! Thank you for 4k followers omg!!!

You’re not sure how you came to be so close to Satoru Gojo so quickly.

It was as if everywhere you were, he popped up in some way, at first you all met at your work, you were a bartender for a pretty elite club, and Satoru came in along with a few of his CEO friends for drinks once. He had tipped you insanely well, this gorgeous man with shocking white hair, and the most intense blue eyes you’ve seen, you couldn’t even describe the color they were.

Satoru Gojo was rich, handsome, friendly, funny, you couldn’t understand why he even asked for your number. You’re a beautiful girl, but he seemed like the kind of man that had women come to him, but not just that, he’s humble and sweet. He messaged you that night even, hoping you got home safe after your shift, and then asking if you’d like to hang out.

When you pictured hanging out, you honestly pictured maybe a date, or something intimate, but it was just coffee the first time, and he asked real questions about you. The next time you all went to a concert he had tickets for, and you had invited him into your apartment when he’d dropped you off, offering a drink to him.

That’s when Satoru saw your shitty little apartment.

He scoffed, walking around while you went to grab two beers, earning a view of your ass that had him shifting himself in his pants, but he was so upset then, he knew where you lived from the outside, he’d watched you plenty, but this? It’s a teeny one bedroom nothing, surely he could treat you much better than that, you deserved a penthouse, his penthouse.

He’d been watching you since that night weeks ago, he could not get his eyes off you, you took his breath away when his eyes had shifted up your body in that slutty bartending outfit. God he can’t wait until you’re not allowed to wear that anywhere, until you’re all his, and oh he knows you want him, he sees the desire in your dilated eyes, how your lips part when you look at him.

But not just yet.

Satoru can’t just fuck you, no you need to be his and you need to stay his, never, ever leaving him, and to do that he needs you begging for him. He needs there to be no other ideas in that pretty head of yours, so he decides to be your ‘friend’. Even when you step a little closer, lowering your lashes, eyes drinking him in when you take a sip from your bottle.

Beer? You should have top shelf champagne.

Satoru can do that for you.

“Thank you so much for tonight, Satoru.” You say softly, a hand trailing up his chest then, he tilts his head, blue eyes assessing you hungrily.

“Why live here?”

You blink now. “Well, it’s cheap and safe?”

“Don’t you make good money?”

“Um… yeah but I have student loans out the ass for my failed creative writing degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh, earning his chuckle.

“Failed? Didn’t pass?”

“No, I did but it’s useless I guess now. I should’ve gone into medical and been a little smarter, but I didn’t listen.”

“Is it your passion?” You nod then, with a little smile.

Satoru can make it happen, surely.

“You could always stay with me.” You cough then, you all barely know each other. “I have a huge place, I wouldn’t mind.”

“I could never impose like that. Don’t feel so sorry, Satoru, I swear I’m good here.” You lean in now, Satoru leans down, big hand caressing your face, tilting your chin up, his look so intense you can’t breathe. Breaths come in quick pants as your gaze hits his plush, glossy lips, imagining them everywhere.

“It’s an open offer, if anything happens. I’ll be…” He smirks a bit, leaning even closer, so close you taste the sweetness of his cool breath. “All gentlemanly and everything.”

“Would you be?” He chuckles now, lips just an inch from yours, your chest is rising and falling, heart thudding at just what his touch does. “What if I don’t want you to be one right now?”

“What’re you asking, sweets?”

“I…” The phone rings now, you clear your throat, realizing you were about to beg this almost stranger to fuck you.

What’s wrong with you!?

“I am sorry, let me see who it is.” Satoru smiles good naturedly, but you don’t see the glare from behind you, as he scowls at the phone, seeing another man’s name. You text him that you’re busy quickly, earning a little relief for him.

“Boyfriend?” You whirl around now, eyes narrowing a bit.

“No, um… ex boyfriend. We were together for years though, even in college, so we keep in touch sometimes.”

Satoru’s jaw sets, and something… changes then, confusing you a bit, as he sets his drink down. “Who broke up with who?”

“Um, he did.” Your cheeks heat up now under his scrutiny. “I’m sure you don’t wanna talk about my ex though.”

Oh, he does.

He wants your attention all on him, and not a bit of that should be for your ex, who didn’t even want you!? How could anyone not want you? Your gorgeous face that fucks his dreams up, your perfect body like you’re built just for him, how sweet you are, and those damn eyes of yours. He can’t wait to see them fucked out, to see you drooling.

Can’t wait to make sure you never text this man again.

“Is something wrong?” You ask now, he smirks, brightening his face so you don’t figure out all his thoughts.

“Nah, sweets, just curious who’d break up with you.” His casual words hit hard, as he brushes your hair back now, leaning in again and you think maybe he’ll kiss you finally, but he just stares at you, holding your face with strong hands.

So strong he could really crush you if he wants, you feel so small in his presence, so overwhelming. Then he brushes his lips up and against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut, your body throbbing with need, but he pulls away after the little kiss on your face, those blue eyes glittering now, he grins all bright and beautiful, casually putting his hands in his pockets.

“Well, I’m off now, enjoy your night, huh?” You blink a bit at that, wondering then, is something not to his liking about you? You’re studying yourself in the mirror after he left, picking yourself apart.

Your makeup is perfect still, your outfit is sexy, you look really good, and you’d damn near been begging for him silently. Maybe he wasn’t interested? Then why did he look at you like that? You sigh now, washing your face and getting down to just your bra and panties, picking back up the phone and finally writing your ex back, then seeing a text from Satoru.

Satoru: Had fun, sweets. Good night.

You: I had fun too… you didn’t have to leave so early.

Satoru smirks, still in his car, watching your silhouette from behind your curtains, gently walking back and forth, he glares when he realizes you are likely naked or damn close to it. He is going to have to teach you some lessons, it seems, because you are already trying to show the world what’s his.

Or will be.

Satoru: It was getting late, did you want me to stay?

You: Maybe I did. Thank you for tonight though.

Satoru: No problem, love.

Love… that does something to you, Satoru does something to you, when your head hits the bed and you’re staring up at the ceiling. Your ex texts you again, but this time you ignore it, thoughts whirling, you still feel the touch to your cheek, having fucked you up more than even being intimate with someone.

Satoru Gojo, who was he really?

*****

“Hey, hey… what’s wrong?” Satoru knows what’s wrong, he is all sweet hugs and rubbing your back though when you are at his place the next week, sobbing against his chest.

“I’m so sorry… I… My landlord just kicked me out!? And I did nothing wrong, she said she’s renting it for triple to someone? I was past my lease, but shit.” Satoru smiles, but you don’t see it, buried against his strong chest as he strokes your hair softly, pleased that you came to him.

You’re such a good girl.

“Oh, sweetheart, it's okay. Shh.” He’s consoling you so sweetly, you pull back, seeing his concerned gaze as you blink away tears, swiping at your cheeks.

“I can’t afford three times the rent? Satoru I… I make decent enough money, if I could just pay you for a room until I find somewhere? I-”

“Nonsense.” He cuts you off, and your stomach flutters when he’s brushing a hand across your back, palm pressing into the fabric of your dress, like it’s burning you with a touch. “You stay here for free, save up money, yeah?”

“I can’t do that, I have to pay you something. It’s already a huge imposition-”

“Have you seen this place? It’s not shit to have you here, won’t cost me anything anyway.” You have seen it, his insane penthouse with a view that’s fucking ridiculous. It’s spotless, only the finest everything all over, you know Satoru’s very wealthy as a CEO but he screams old money too.

“I would feel terrible. Could I cook, pick up?”

“I have cleaners. Cooking though… yeah, you good at it?”

You smile tremulously, wiping your eyes again. “I’m so good! I also could give the best neck massages after work?”

“Now that sounds perfect. It’s a deal then, stay as long as you need, but cook yummy things. As for a massage, we’ll see if you’re good as you say.”

“Swear, they’re magic! Oh goodness, I have to get to my shift soon, ugh… is there a way you could help me get my things? I’ll just leave the furniture, it’s old, I can buy new shit.”

“Absolutely.”

You hug him tightly, kissing his cheek then, he tenses at it, at the brush of your lips, at the curves of your body against him. Fuck he can’t wait to make you his.

“Satoru Gojo, you're amazing.” He chuckles then.

“I know.”

*****

Living with Satoru Gojo, who walks around shirtless is… difficult. Your tummy clenches, mouth gulping the first time you see him, his chiseled perfect body, all dewy after a shower. Towel slung across his neck, sauntering over to you with that smirk of his, so casual as you’re in the kitchen chopping up veggies, he brushes his fingertips across your back, driving you insane.

Shivers slink down your spine when he leans over you, breath against your neck, you damn near arch back into him as he murmurs in your ear. “Looks yummy.”

Fuck.

You take a shaky breath, hands trembling as you then nick yourself with the knife, you wince then. “Ow, shit!”

“Lemme see.” He takes your hand gently, peering at the drop of crimson that pushes out in droplets then, the way he takes your hand even is too much.

Weeks of living together, walking around in arguably almost nothing in front of him, and he hasn’t hit on you, despite his eyes devouring you, like they’re touching you. No he’d smile and lazily trail his gaze, maybe brush against you in the kitchen, give you a hug after work, you’d rub his neck just so and he’d grip your wrists, smiling up at you, to the point you’re losing control.

All you can think of is him.

Satoru loves it that way, too, he loves hearing you murmur his name in your sleep, he’s got cameras all over, especially in your room, and he can even hear you on them. Your little whines of pleasure, he’d see how your hands would move under your blankets, as you stayed as quiet as can be, but he heard your whimpers, your sweet little moans.

He strokes his cock every night watching you, listening, waiting.

He needs you to really need him.

“Just a little nick, I’m fine.” You assure him, then your mouth drops as he takes your finger, sucking it into his mouth.

He’s sucking on your damn finger, hot wet mouth and the lewd images destroying the fragile hold you have on your sanity, snowy lashes lowered as he presses his tongue up on your fingertip, putting pressure. You stand there quiet, but then there’s a little sound that escapes your throat, a little whine, and when he pulls back he smiles knowingly.

He licks his lips, a drop of blood on them, tilting his head as he releases your finger now. “Better?”

“Um… y-yes. Thank you, Satoru.” You manage to speak somehow, your voice hoarse, you clear your throat then. “Clumsy.”

“Mind somewhere?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Another week goes by, Satoru watches you every chance he gets, when he’s at work he watches you on his phone, he’s got a tracker in yours, for your safety you know, when something concerns him. Your daily trips were work, maybe the store, and a couple times a week the gym. But you’re somewhere he’s never seen you at, and it concerns him then.

Where are you?

He zooms in on the location.

Someone’s house?

Satoru’s jaw tightens then, and when you’re home that night, you notice he’s not friendly, or sweet, or talkative. He barely responds as you try to engage with him, and when you go to rub his neck, he stops your hands with an icy glare. “What’s… did I upset you?”

“How could you upset me?” He stands up, looming so tall, you shrink back just a bit, the backs of your legs hitting the fancy grey couch, until you’re sitting in it, and Satoru’s arms are on either side of you. “How could you, sweets, hmm?”

“I… I don’t know? Um…” Your mouth goes dry when he gets on his knees, spreading your thighs, your breaths coming quicker, pussy throbbing around nothing, thinking of him, feeling his long slender fingers on your skin. “Satoru?”

“You’re a perfect girl, aren’t you? A good girl?” Your hips shift, his eyes dart down, smiling as he peeks under your skirt now, a wet spot forming on your panties, he can’t wait to finally taste you, when you’re good of course.

“Good girl? I… don’t know.” Your hands are at your side, his face is right against yours again, your thighs on either side of his body, pressing into him.

“What’d you get up to today?” He asks, all casual like he doesn’t know, as he assesses your body for marks, bites, hickeys. Your body belongs to him, even if you don’t know it just yet. He finds none, making him just a little less furious, but now he feels the plush of your thighs in his grip, picturing shoving them against your chest.

You’d look so sexy in a mating press, wouldn’t you?

“I um… went to grab dinner, then I gave some shit to my ex that I had left from the apartment.” Satoru exhales in relief.

“Oh yeah? I could’ve helped you, love.”

“No, it’s awkward. I was holding onto it, I decided to just let it go, he didn’t choose me, you know?”

“Who wouldn’t choose you?” You lean forward, his eyes dart to your breasts, as a strap slips over your shoulder.

“Satoru, you're too good to me, and why? How have I come to deserve you in my life?” He exhales, adjusting the strap with two fingers, brushing your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps, he watches your nipples perk up under your tank top, furious that anyone has ever seen them.

“Is that all? You gave him his shit?” He tries to hide his anger, his jealousy.

“That’s all.” You answer, and he stands again, leaving you wanting and empty when he’s not touching you.

“Should have asked me to help. I’m calling it a night, yeah?” You manage a little nod, he tilts your chin up as he stands over you, your body reacting so violently you’re shaking damn near, unable to stop the reaction. He smiles knowingly, leaving you then, and you glare at his strong, perfect back as he walks off, giving you a little look before going to his room.

Satoru knew you saw him somehow? You can swear it. Are you freaking out for no reason? Surely he didn’t care what you did, he maybe just wanted to make sure you were okay, maybe he could sense you were stressed somehow?

Then why is there this gnawing feeling?

*****

The next day you’re trying to get to work, and your car won’t turn over. You curse it out, it’s old sure but it’s strong and has a good engine. Satoru had already offered to give you one of his cars, saying you could pay him back later, as if you could ever afford a Mercedes Benz. You’d turned him down of course, and now he’s standing in his insanely huge parking garage, right out the side of your window.

You open the door, sighing as you get out of the car. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it, ugh!”

“It’s an ancient relic?”

“Hey!” You playfully shove him, laughing then. “It is, I guess. But I don’t know why it won’t start?”

“I’ll have my mechanic check it, he’ll love this archeology.”

“Satoru!” You’re laughing so hard then, god he always makes you laugh, you wish he’d make you moan but you throw those thoughts far back.

“I’m kidding, sweets, kinda.” He narrows those blue eyes, his jaw tensing just a bit then as he assesses your car.

Couldn’t be because he took out your catalytic converter.

“Hmm, maybe a dead battery or alternator went out?” Satoru looks at you amusedly, you’re cute, knowing something about cars. But he needs you to stop worrying about things like that.

“For now, I’ll take you to work, yeah?” You exhale, nodding then.

“Thank you so much, Satoru, you’re so sweet to me.” You say later, as he drops you off at work, top down, grinning with those Gucci shades hiding those baby blues, some of the girls from the bar are out front, they start giggling when they see the two of you.

“He’s so hot!?” One of your friends loudly whispers.

“Shh, I know!” Gojo hears you though, grinning as he swipes a hand through his snowy locks.

“Hello, ladies.” He says, getting out then to come open your door, earning the swoons of everyone. You smile gratefully at him.

“Thank you, Gojo.”

“No worries, tell me when to pick you up, mmkay?” You nod then, he gives you a little kiss on the head, and your friends make no secret of how fine they think he is.

“Is he your man?” Your other friend asks, you shake your head then, while Satoru gets back in the car. “Bitch, why?”

“Is he single?” Your other friend asks.

Something makes you sick then, thinking of seeing Satoru with other women, and surely it would happen soon, yeah? He’s gorgeous and can get who he wants, and he hasn’t yet shown he wants you. You peek back at him as he is starting back up his car, looking at your friend again.

“He’s single.” Satoru wants to laugh at you. He’s not single, you’re his already,  you just haven’t gotten where he needs you.

“Why not date him?”

“He’s not interested. Drop it.” You hiss, waving at Satoru, he tilts his glasses down then, the unreal eyes behind the snowy lashes drinking you in.

“Have a good day, sweets.” He leaves a bunch of giggling, whispering friends and heat on your cheeks when he drives off, grin glinting in the setting sun, because now he knows just where you are.

*****

After two more weeks of living with Satoru, you’re at about a month with him, and despite the endless little brushes against your skin, the little touches while you cook, the hugs and pecks on your cheeks, he never makes a move. You moan just a little louder at night thinking of him, wondering then when you’d see him in the morning why he looked so tired.

You’re wondering about lots of things.

“Satoru, do you date?” You ask one day, and he looks at you lazily, trailing up and down your body the way he does, the way that makes you ache with longing.

“Do I date? I haven’t in a while, why?”

“You’re so… you?” He snorts then.

“What’s that mean?”

“Like, gorgeous? Smart and sweet? Rich? How do you not date?”

“When I get with someone it’ll be permanent, there won’t be any dating or fucking around, so I guess I’m kind of picky about it. Why? Would it make you jealous if I brought a girl over?”

Yes, yes it would.

“Oh, no, I’m cool with whatever. It’s your place, I just live here.” Satoru leans you against the counter then, barring you with strong arms, his thigh brushing between yours, he feels it then, the heat that builds as you shift your hips just a bit, eyes darting up to his.

“Wouldn’t mind if I fucked someone right here? Ya sure?”

“It’s your place.” You manage weakly again, watching thin nostrils flare, his pupils blown out as you shift again, and he feels your hot pussy against his thigh, your hands slipping up his shirt slowly. “You like to fuck, Satoru?”

He blinks now, shifting his thigh, tilting his head as he studies you. “You’re asking if I like to fuck?” You nod, just barely, and one of his hands slips down your side, his cock throbbing under his jeans, thinking about devouring your pussy right on the kitchen counter. He already has tasted you off those panties he stole, he imagines it’s even sweeter from the source. “Do you?”

Your cheeks flush, eyes lowering nervously, Satoru tilts your chin up, making you look right at him. “I didn’t like it much, no, but… I like to…”

“Play with your pussy?” You bite your lower lip, rolling your hips once more, waiting for him to break, but he acts casual as he’s ruining what’s left of your addled mind. “You brought it up, don’t be shy.”

“Yes, I like to. Do you… play with…”

“Slutty questions.” He smirks now, backing up, you look in horror as you realize you’ve left a damn wet spot on his thigh, but he brushes it with his thumb leisurely, lapping it off his tongue, leaving you with your mouth open. “Mmm. Have a good night, pretty.”

You’re shaking when you get to your room, literally dying over him, knowing he’s in the next room but won’t come near you is torture, but for him it’s fun. He’s watching you pace around your room avidly, damn near chuckling when you strip off your clothes so quickly, flopping on the bed and covering your face with your hands, pressing your knees together.

He’ll make you feel better soon, don’t worry.

But then, you pick up your phone, earning his glare that of course you can’t see, he picks up his other phone now, the one that shows him every message and call you make. Some guy has been trying to ask you out for a couple weeks, but you’d ignored him, like a good girl. Now, however… you’re texting him back!?

That just won’t do.

He’s so absorbed in staring at your messages, as you smile just a bit, wondering if there was a way to get under Gojo’s cool exterior.

Maybe a date with someone?

******

You’re dressed in some slinky outfit, it hugs your body just right, hitting about mid thigh, a black lacy little number. You step out of your room, his mouth drops open when he sees you, too much of your smooth skin revealed, your breasts on display for everyone who would see, you smile up at him all pretty and do a little spin as he grips his hands into fists.

He wants to rip that dress the fuck off you, bury his cock inside your pretty little cunt and fuck you hard, fuck you so hard you sob those eyelashes off, so hard your perfect hair is a tangled goddamn mess. Teach you that you’re his and only his, that you belong to him, have you cum so hard you can’t form anymore thoughts of ever leaving in your pretty head.

He can’t even speak when you nervously ask, “How do I look?”

How do you look? You look like you need your ass beat, your clit overstimulated to the point you beg him to stop, look like you need to get that pretty neck choked out by his big hands. And that little smile on your face, like you know just what you’re doing to him? Satoru’s teeth click together, jaw tensing now while he sits there on the desk chair looking at you.

“You look gorgeous. But then you always do.” You blush at that, lashes lowering at the praise. “But why so dressed up? Going out with… friends?”

You know he knows.

You hear it in his voice, in how tense it gets. You smile then, shaking your head, lacing your fingers together in front of you as you feel those blue eyes touching your skin. “No, I’m going on a date.”

Satoru’s little facade breaks for just a moment, he can’t keep it up just now, and it’s like you know, you’re being this little brat and not his sweet little thing right now. He can’t wait to fuck the attitude out of you, as hard as it’s making him. “Oh? A date, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s been a while you know.” You step up to him just a bit, smiling so pretty, devious little brat. “A while.”

“A while.” He repeats, voice hoarse, before realizing you’re trying to play him, aren’t you? “Since?”

“Since anything. This guy seems super nice, maybe he’ll… think I’m hot, you know? Be attracted too? We’ll see.”

“Who wouldn’t want you? That’s stupid.” He huffs.

“Oh, is it? Well I’m not everyone’s type, you know?” You blink those damn lashes at him, he raises a brow. “So we’ll see. But don’t wait up for me, hmm?”

“Don’t you need a ride?” He asks, as you head towards the door, grabbing your little purse now.

“Oh no, he’s going to come get me, don’t worry.” Satoru’s hand stops yours on the knob, hard body pressed against your back, your breath catches, quickening now, watching the veins raise on his hand, as it covers yours completely. “Something wrong, Satoru?”

“Just wanna make sure you’re safe, you should let me take you.”

“Don’t even impose yourself, I’ll be fine.” You turn and look up at him, his plush lips just a breath from yours. “Everything okay?”

“Of course it is, you can text me if you need me to get you though, okay?” You exhale now, slightly dejected.

You want him to say he doesn’t want you to go, fuck you want him to grab you and keep you here, he makes you feel so fucking toxic, the insane thoughts making your mind whirl, your tummy coil with desire. One of his hands grips your hip, and you feel his length against your back, your eyes shut as you grip the door knob so hard it hurts.

“I asked you something, sweets.” His grip tightens, you open your eyes again, looking up at him.

“Of course, Satoru.”

“Have fun then.” He is back to being a bright, happy Gojo, blue eyes glittering, letting you go when you ache for him to drag you against him. “Be safe, yeah? Creeps everywhere, stalkers even.”

He’s following you in his car as soon as you take off in this asshole’s car, he tracks your location and finds you’re at some restaurant, he sees you then, up front at a table shivering a bit in your slutty dress. Part of him thinks, that’s just what you get, but another part thinks, fuck this dude for not giving you his jacket, Satoru sizes him up with a flick of his eyes, fists clenching the steering wheel.

You keep peering at your phone, you don’t look like you’re really having fun, what are you playing at? Are you trying to make him insane, trying to make him more jealous than he already was? He was jealous anyone even fucking saw you altogether, he thinks how good it would be to breed you constantly, to keep you knocked up with his babies, stay at home for only his eyes to see.

The thoughts drive him insane, as does seeing this dude’s hand on your bare thigh now, thighs for him to touch, he is so furious he almost blows his cover, taking several breaths as he prepares to rip this dude’s hands off. How dare anyone touch you!? And then he gets it, your text.

Satoru, I’m so sorry, but are you busy?

Satoru exhales in relief, leaning his head back on the driver’s seat, brushing his hand across his face.

Having fun on your date?

Satoru is being petty but he can’t help it, he sees your cute little glare as you poke on your phone, and his hand slips higher up your leg.

Not really. I’ll be fine though, sorry.

Satoru panics now.

What’s wrong?

He watches as you type.

I feel really uncomfortable, could you please come get me? I’m so sorry to put you out like this…

Satoru comes right out of the car, walking across the street now, and your eyes widen in shock, lips parting as he saunters up, grinning and holding out a hand. “Hey pretty, wanna get out of here?”

“Excuse me!?” The man sputters, but you giggle, Satoru wonders if you’re the crazy one here, him or you?

“I’d love to.” You put your little hand in his, following him to his car then, when Satoru slides in however he cups your face, grip tight on you, his eyes glaring and fucking furious. “How’d you get here in ten seconds? Instant transmission like Goku?”

“You’re such a brat.” He mutters, glaring now as you grin, one hand in your hair, pulling, making you cry out, a sound that makes Satoru’s cock leak precum, just from the sound of you. “You did this it piss me off, hmm?”

“Why would you be mad, Toru?” You put a hand on his thigh now, leaning forward, showing more and more of your breasts. “You don’t even want me like that, haven’t you made it clear?”

He starts laughing now, he’s feral, manic in his insane laugh, pulling your hair even harder. “I don’t huh? Then tell me what the fuck this is?”

Satoru takes your hand putting it over his clothed cock now, you whimper feeling him for the first time, hard for you, his breaths coming faster and faster as you go to stroke him, earning his own throaty moan. “Are you jealous?”

“No, because he’s not shit, and you’re mine anyway.”

“How am I yours!? Don’t even kiss me. Don’t even-”

Satoru yanks you to him, slamming his lips on yours then, devouring your mouth, tongue swiping in every inch of it, swirling as he loses his fragile sense of control. You taste so good, you feel so good, he’s wanted you for so long, he’s brutal with his lips, with his teeth, with how he grips your chin so fucking tight. You’re falling apart for him, then, when he yanks back.

His breath is hot on your lips, his hand slipping between your thighs then, you can’t stop the cry that escapes your lips, when he finds you over your panties, soaking wet for him. “This for me, or for him?”

“Stupid- ah!” Satoru pulls your hair so hard tears prick your eyes, stroking you over your sticky panties.

“Watch that mouth, and that attitude before I fuck it out of you.” His whisper and his touch makes you drip down his fingers, you’re arching your hips as he touches you, pressing on your clothed clit now. “So you get this wet for me?”

“You get that hard from me?” You counter, he laughs again, shaking his head at your audacity, slipping his finger under your panties now, finding your bare cunt.

“Stupid fucking soaked, huh? From a kiss?”

“Just touch me, please…” You’re begging him now, leaning closer, lips pressing against his, drinking his moans when he shoves two fingers in your eager hole, stretching you and making you gasp. “Satoru…”

“Do you deserve to cum, after acting this way?” He demands, curling his fingers up in your slick walls, pressing that spot that has your eyes rolling back, entire body reacting to him, dripping down his sleeves, his watch you’re so wet. “Answer me.”

The first slap on your cheek shocks you with the sting that throbs, you glare at him, slapping him back on his pretty face, earning him gripping your wrist brutal as his fingers fuck into you. The car is heating up right in the middle of the damn street, you hear your pussy squishing, hear your cries and gasps.

“Asked you a question, sweets. Seeing your ex, going on a date, showing off this body to everyone? Ya think you’re a good girl?” You shake your head then, and he groans, kissing you messy, tongues drooling saliva, thumb finding your clit now, and you’re close, so close, clinging to him.

“N-no but… please…” He laughs as he pushes you to the edge, sucking you off his fingers then, groaning, cheeks hollowing.

“Fuck you taste even better than your panties.”

“My what!?”

“C’mere, ya wanna be a good girl for me?” You blink rapidly, nodding then, and he revs up the car, pulling out, you are jostled as he begins to drive like a maniac, you’re grasping him, half thrown on his lap.

“Where are we going?”

“Home. You’re gonna make it up to me, being so slutty, huh?”

“Slutty?”

“Slutty mouth.” Satoru unzips his pants then, and you gulp when you see him for the first time, thick and long, veiny cock so pretty, the tip pink, drooling drops of precum already. You stare at it, he feels it as he drives, peeking at you now, grabbing the back of your hair again. “Put it to use, and I’ll let you cum.”

“Fuck…” You have never done something like this, but you find yourself bent over him then, taking your tongue and lapping at the precum on his tip, while he drives with one hand, his other, entangling against the nape of your neck.

“Gonna be my perfect little slut, no one else's, huh?” You nod eagerly, you’re stupid, this man literally stalked you on your date, he’s acting possessive and psychotic, but your pussy is clenching around nothing. “Say it.”

“Your perfect little slut.” You whisper, he moans then, husky and guttural as you suck him in your mouth now, hot and wet, swirling your tongue around the ridge of his tip, earning his hips bucking, cock twitching.

“That’s it, I knew you could behave. There you go, good girl.” You’re trembling, sucking him deep in your throat, over and over as your cunt is drooling, dripping down the panties that are becoming soppy wet and pathetic like you. “Feel that slutty mouth, never gonna suck anyone again, are you baby?”

“Mmm…” You’re moaning eagerly, sucking his cock as deep as you can, he’s shoving your head fully down to where you’re slobbering all over him, tears pricking your eyes, you’re shaking while he uses your throat, your mouth, as your taste his salty precum, shoving it in your throat deeper and deeper.

“F-fuck… you’re finally being good, huh? Bet you wanna cum, bet your pussy is soaked, yeah?”

He knows you can’t answer, he’s loving the choked out sounds you’re making as you suck him down more and more, until he finally pulls up to his house, he pulls you off him, cock glittering with your saliva. He moans, kissing you again, teeth sinking into your lip, tasting himself off your tongue, you’re whining, trembling, he chuckles just a bit then.

“Look at you, sucked it that good? Should I fucking be mad?” He demands then, you gasp at his touch on your pussy again.

“It’s been a long time for me, okay?” You whisper, he exhales now.

“No one will touch you again when I’m done, yeah? No one.” You nod weakly, Satoru smiles now. “Good, you’re so good f’me.”

Satoru’s got you in his penthouse so quickly you’re disoriented, and as soon as the door is closed behind you, he grabs you, slams you against the wall, and kisses you again, hard and desperate. His hands slips down to your ass, squeezing it roughly in his big palms, long fingers pressing in as he takes over everything, making you moan into his mouth.

You can feel his cock pressing against your tummy now, thick and insistent, on your tummy, half put up, his pants unzipped, and you can’t help but arch into him, rubbing against him, tip toeing to get close. He’s so rough with you, so demanding, and it’s making you wetter, making your body respond in ways it never has before, it’s insane what he’s doing to you.

He shoves a hand back up your dress, twisting your panties to the side again, rubbing in teasing circles, as tears fall out of your eyes, looking at them and moaning. “You’re crying?”

You manage a sniffle, fuck you looks so perfect like this, in tears for him, it only makes Satoru’s cock spurt more precum, so hard it hurts, he can’t wait to bury it so deep in you, he’s picturing it as he slides his fingers into your soaked cunt. You moan loudly, you’re tiny hands clinging to him, leg around his hip, letting his fingers fuck you deeper.

“Hear it? You’re so loud, so messy, huh?” He’s whispering, all you can do is nod, pupils so blown out your eyes are dark. “Look at you, fucked out from my fingers? That won’t do, baby.”

You barely register his fingers sliding out of your pussy again, you whine at the emptiness, but then he’s on his knees, shoving your dress up over your hips, yanking your panties off you. He’s throwing one of your legs over his shoulders, bright blue eyes staring up under his snowy lashes, you’re clinging to his hair, chest rising and falling as he places a kiss on your pussy.

“You were so good, I’ll treat you so good, hmm? Make you feel s’good?” You just nod, earning a smack on your pussy, making you gasp. “What do we say, little slut?”

“Please.” Satoru Gojo then his face buried between your legs, his tongue sliding along your slit, tasting your arousal that starts pouring down his mouth. You gasp as he nibbles on your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.

He’s eating you out like he’s starved, slutty moans from both of your throats, your head slamming against the wall. His stupidly long  tongue is moving in circles around your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you can’t believe how good it feels. You’ve never been with a man who’s so hungry for you, who devours you like this, his fingers making your squelching wetness even louder.

Your hands entangle in those silky white locks as he fingers and licks like he’s always known how to, but it comes so natural, flicking his tongue against your little twitchy clit over and over. Your cunt is so wet his fingers slip, before shoving back in, pressing your spongy spot inside your little hole, all while you’re a pathetic mess, sniffling and hiccuping.

He can’t wait to make you stupid for him, beyond this, beyond anything, can’t wait to own you, possess you in every fucking way. As he sucks your tiny clit in his hungry mouth, he moans against it, looking up and watching you shatter for him. You’re so close to cumming, you can feel it building.

“Gonna cum, please, please-” You whine out, gasping, thighs shaking as you’re too weak to stand, but then he stops, leaving you gasping for breath, your body on the edge, pulsating all over through every vein..

“Beg for it.” He orders, sadistic smirk on a face half soaked with you, as he licks his lower lip, glossy.

“Please, Satoru, please make me cum.” You whisper, your voice shaking, and he groans, shocking you when he yanks you down, you slam onto the ground wincing and gasping as you hit the floor, and he starts palming at your dress, until he’s ripped it completely off you. “Satoru!? What!?”

Your dress is in pieces now, much to his pleasure, all you have now is what’s left of it under you, and you’re naked aside from heels and a bra. “You’ll never wear that fucking dress again, got me? Showing off what’s mine when I wasn’t even with you? Do you hear me?”

You nod then, you should be terrified, but fuck you want him too much, as he shoves your thighs up high, then dives back in, his tongue swirling around your clit, his teeth grazing it again as he bites it. You scream out at the pain, he shoves those fingers back in, three this time.

“Too much, too much!” You’re sobbing out, and he laughs now.

“No baby, your slutty pussy can take it, huh? Lemme hear you scream my name.” He shoves his fingers in so deep and his tongue is drinking you as your orgasm hits you, your body convulsing against his mouth, your juices flowing onto his face, everywhere.

You can hear him, lapping you up, drinking every bit, all while the best orgasm of your existence makes you blind, you’re floating, the only thing that tethers you is when he looks down at you, fingers still buried. He slams his lips back on yours, you taste your pussy on his lips, whimpering and clinging to him desperately, bare as he’s fully dressed.

“You’re made for me, only me to taste, just me.” You just nod, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Can’t talk baby?”

“You, jus’ you… Toru…” He’s picked you up to stand, before he’s pulling you up against him, holding your naked frame against him, carrying you to your bed now, lips not coming up for air until he’s tossed you on your bed.

“Bra off, now.” He orders, you do as he says, tossing it and then peeking at the camera you know is there, smiling before you look back at him. He’s glaring, unbuttoning his dress shirt now. “Looking at something?”

“Oh, nothing. Do you record? Will you stroke yourself to this later?” He slips off his shirt, leaving you speechless until he’s laying on top of you again, eyeing your perfect tits and little smile.

“You knew?” You tilt your head now, leaning up on your elbows, a hand stroking his cheek.

“Did you like how I played with my pussy in front of it? How I moaned your name?” Satoru’s ended now, scowling at you.

“You liked it, being watched? By me?” You nod again, swallowing as he slides off his pants, yanking off your heels, kissing along the tops of your feet before lapping at your ankles. “You did it knowing?”

“You wouldn’t come to me.”

Satoru’s eyes are on you, you’re his entire world now, his obsession, his fixation. He’s going to claim you, fuck you until you forget every other man who ever existed. He’s going to ruin you, and you’re going to love it, he can already tell when his cock is hot and heavy against your inner thigh, when your hips are rolling up, and you’re dripping down the bed.

“You get off on it, me being fucking obsessed, huh?” You nod weakly, and Satoru has your thighs spread and pressed up, his tip drooling precum against your aching hole. “Then let me be clear, you'll never see or date anyone again, got it?”

Satoru grins sadistically as you weakly nod, whispering a-  “Yes, Satoru.” He moans then, filling your tight hole in one stroke of his huge cock, stuffing you so full you scream out, pussy gripping him like a vise, drooling down his veiny cock to his balls, pooling under you both as his own eyes roll back.

“Feel her, made f’me, just me? Mine, mine, mine.” He’s whispering it like some insane mantra as he begins to move, fucking into your soppy cunt over and over, you’re pulsing and fluttering around him as he pounds your cunt, nasty words spilling from his pouty lips. “My little slut, hmm? Mine.”

“Ngh…” Is all you manage, when he slams your cervix with his drooly tip, leaning up to grip the headboard and pressing a thigh higher, railing your cunt so much it hurts, but you’re dying, drool pooling out of the side of your lips, eyes fluttering, trying to stay open.

“That’s it, oh look at you, fucked stupid already? I’m just starting with you, baby, gonna fuck your pretty mind up till it’s all me.” He leans down, rolling his hips and grinning with his eyes lit up, so dark they look black for just a moment. “That’s it, cum all over my cock, can’t help yourself huh?”

You do then, you’re cumming all over him, muscles contracting around his cock so hard she tries to push him out with the force, so much wetness dripping it’s streaming across his cock, earning his breathy moan. He’s fucking you through your orgasm, your thighs shaking, you are stupid, you can’t form one thought in your pathetic brain as your orgasm waves over your body.

“Aw, fucked dumb? Poor stupid baby. I’ll keep fucking all those thoughts out of your head, hmm? Till it’s just me.”

“Satoru… jus’ you… s’good I…” You can’t talk anymore, not when his cock’s strokes are hitting just right, not when his tip drags against your gspot before bruising your cervix. You’re clinging to him, nails pressing into his strong back, as pulls back, watching your tummy bulge.

“Fucking up your guts, fucking up your brain. S’all me, huh?” You can’t answer, you’re too fucked out, but his slap brings you too, he smacks both cheeks, gripping your thighs brutal, leaving bruises. “Focus, baby, focus.”

“S’all you…” You answer, you’re so obedient, you’re so good for him.

“You’re such a good girl, perfect pussy, perfect body. Perfect face. Haunting my every fucking thought, torturing me.” He shoves your thighs high, pressing them against your breasts, folding you in half and bottoming out, you scream at it, hands gripping the sheets beneath you as you’re stretched and filled so much. “You’re so good you deserve all my cum, all these babies in you.”

You can’t register concern, he’s pounding you while gripping your face so tightly, you feel so tiny as he works his long, muscular body, as he breaks your body and mind with his cock, slamming harder and harder. You hear the sounds of it, the smack smack smack of his skin, as his balls slap your asshole, covered in slick from your cunt that’s drooling down his length.

“That’s it, milk my cock, so fuckin good, you want it, me to fill you, make you drip me for days.” You just weakly cry out, sniffling, tears pouring down your cheeks. “So beautiful like this, crying f’me? Oh baby, you’re perfect like this.”

Satoru loves your tears, your trembling lips, as you grip him so good, he feels it, you’re going to cum again, eager pussy sucking him in loudly, as he fucks you so hard the headboard slams the wall, you’re barely hanging on, sobbing and mumbling. You’re so fucked out it’s cute, opening and closing your mouth, unable to speak.

“It’s all me in there, yeah? Gonna be all me, gonna fill you so good, baby just wait, f-fuck!” Satoru slows then, pumping your cunt full, hot gooey cum sticking to your walls and making you cum right with him as he fucks it further, deeper.

“Satoru!” You’re mumbling his name, gasping for breath as he fills you, all of you, so hot and deep, until he finally lowers your legs, laughing softly.

“Oh I’m gonna have so much fun with you, you’re never leaving me, are you? Aw, can’t talk baby?”

He’s got you flipped on your trembling knees next, burying his face in your pussy, cleaning all his cum out and groaning. “Too much, too much!”

“Taste us together, fuck. Made for me, just me.” He’s on top of you next, prone over you, fucking out his first load and prepping you for another, all while he’s choking your neck squeezing so hard you almost faint. He’s whispering in your ear, breath tickling, hands over your sensitive skin. “Love it, hands around this neck, beg me to cum in you, fill you.”

“P-please… please fill me- ah!” You’re fading as he chokes you harder, spitting and drooling in your mouth, cock wrecking you as he fills you again, his sweat dripping from his skin as he works you. He groans then, hand pressing on your tummy.

“So full of me, but you need more, need no question in your pretty head who you belong to.”

After another load you’re weak, and he’s still going. When you finally wake in the morning, after several loads pumped in your pussy, you’re a mess, wobbling weakly as you step out of your room, thinking of facing him. Would things be different now, was it all passion, in the moment? Was it just sex? Was it more…

You smell something sweet then, inhaling as you slip on one of his dress shirts, you’d gone from fucking in your room to the bathroom, all the way to his room. At some point he had you bent over the couch, at another he had you pressed against the shower wall. It’s like little fragments, your pussy is aching, your experience has never prepared you for his size or stamina.

But you feel deliciously fucked out.

You catch his eye then, he looks at you, exhaling at how beautiful you are, your eyes are a little puffy from crying, you have bruises and marks littering your neck, you’re wearing his expensive dress shirt and nothing else. He feels himself hard just looking at you like this, remembering all the cum he’d pumped you full, wondering if it was still dripping out?

“Good morning, sweets. Get some shut eye?” He teases, winking at you as he flips his spatula, finishing the stack of pancakes he’s made.

“You cook, Satoru?” You ask, throat hoarse from your moans, from slobbering all over his cock and having him choke you. You clear it nervously, earning his smirk.

“Cute.” He murmurs, pulling out a chair for you. “Of course I cook, I just enjoy you cooking for me, so sexy watching you, barefoot in the kitchen you know.” 

“That sounds so…”

“Sit down, you need that energy baby. Last night I know I took it easy…’

“What!?” You blink then, sitting as he plates your breakfast, wincing at how sore your entire body is.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, look at my girl.” The words ruin you, when he leans down, cupping your face and his thumb brushes along your jaw. “Covered in bruises.”

“I am?” You look down and see your thighs, your chest, in hickeys and bruises, red and purple all over. “Oh…”

“Don’t worry you’re not going anywhere today anyway. You should take a break from work, you know.” He chuckles and kisses you. “Fuck I’ve waited so long for you, for you to be mine.”

You are kissed by him then, you eagerly meet his lips, before he pulls back, taking a breath. You frown when you see your phone is over by his coffee. “Is that my phone?”

“Oh, mmhmm. Needed to block any guys, you know, also that period tracker said you’re ovulating today.” You blink again as you sip the orange juice he gives you, nearly choking on it, his blue eyes have gotten even brighter, his grin huge as he watches your expressions.

“Satoru…”

“I threw out your birth control, cancelled your prescription.”

“Satoru!”

“What baby?” He sits you up on the table, between your thighs, your body violently reacts when he grabs you under your chin, his other hand slipping down your breasts. “I know, I should have breakfast first, is that what you want?”

“I… you…”

“Gonna look so fucking sexy full of me.” He lifts your thighs, sliding up the shirt you wear as he sits right on the seat, sliding it up to get a full view of your abused, puffy cunt. “Oooh, fucked her up. Do you hurt, baby?”

“Y-yes… I- ah!” Satoru’s lapped at your pussy now, from your hole to your clit, chuckling as he pulled the lips apart. “T-Toru…”

“Look at her, she’s ready for more, she’s so greedy.” He’s buried his face against you again, and you’re cumming so quickly, he laughs at it. “So easy, too. Ah we’re gonna fill her up more, don’t worry, gotta knock you the fuck up.”

You’re going to protest then, this is insane, he’s crazy, but when you’re getting bent over the kitchen table and fucked again, you soon forget your protests, as Satoru grips your tits and pinches your sensitive nipples, pounding your hole, all you can do is cry out and arch your back. Satoru smiles against your neck as you fall apart, as he pictures breeding you.

He’s got you right where he wants.

And you both know you’re never leaving.

Ahahah this was INSANE, none of this is cool unless it's Gojo, stay safe out here lol. Hope you all enjoyed! (yes all my stories are Arctic Monkeys or Chase Atlantic lyrics loll)

Taglist: @silvarys @strychnynegirl @indiewritesxoxo @alygator77 @moonlitwitchdaisy @cuntphoric @aldebrana @levislug @haruhatake @ninikrumbs @xixflower @star2112 @nanasukii28 @sukuxna0 @naammiii @uhnosav @victoria1676 @thequeenofcurses @targaryenluvs @jinjen @yesdere @shokosmokes @aishi-toru  @labelt-san @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @seeing-stars-alt @bunheadusa @alt--er--love @1satoruu @thikcems @plimplimmeiododoi @watermelonslut

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony ch6. the in-laws

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, mentions of cigarettes, depression/anxiety; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ chapter. 6/x

ᰔ words. 12.6k

a/n. hiii my ihm lovelies!! hope you all had a great holiday season. i wanted to get this chapter out as a christmas gift but i failed and then i wanted to get it out as a new years post but failed and then i got food poisoning yesterday and while i was rotting in bed i ended up finishing the chapter LOL. it seems i can only write when i'm under duress? but anywho. hope you enjoy haha and see you at the bottom!

nav. masterlist

“Alright, let’s head out,” you hear Gojo say from the bottom of the staircase, followed by the sound of dress shoes on the hardwood floor, and you glance over to see him clad in a navy suit with a white button up shirt that had one singular button undone. He’s messing with the cuffs of his suit jacket as he makes his way over to you. You catch the scent of his cologne, and it’s alarming how familiar it’s become to you.

Days go by shorter lately, mainly because it’s winter, and so the sun has almost fully set by 6pm. The sky outside is a dark hue of purple, seen past the windows of Gojo’s house, and the warm, dim lighting inside makes you feel strangely nostalgic. Like in a way that feels like home.

You tirelessly tousle with your hair at the mirror hanging above the foyer table that was snug up against the wall at the front entrance. Your hair wasn’t cooperating. You attempted to curl it, for the first time in forever given you can’t remember the last time you had enough time to do your hair, so you were out of practice. It was obvious, given the way some strands were curled outwards from your face, some inwards, some straighter than others, some curlier than others, and you were about to have a full blown mental breakdown before you remember your grounding exercises– 1, 2, 3, 4.

You turn to face Gojo, who you saw in the mirror was standing behind you and watching you with amusement, and you breathe in deep. “How do I look?” you ask, petting down the fabric of your dress as you face him. The thought occurs to you–why do you give so much of a fuck how you look right now? It’s just Gojo’s family. It’s not like they’re actually your in-laws. And from what Gojo’s mother had told you, it was just an intimate little get-together with Sana’s family. It’s really not a big deal. Yet the necessity to impress still consumes you.

Gojo threads his hands into the pockets of his pants and tilts his head to assess your appearance, and you watch his gaze trace the frame of you. “Nice,” he says, “you look nice.”

“That’s it? Just nice?”

“Well, I tried to call you hot earlier, but it got me yelled at.”

You roll your eyes and grab your purse off the foyer table, “okay, whatever, I’ll take it.” And then you head towards the front door. You hear the jingle of car keys from behind you as they’re shoved into a pocket.

The outside air is chilly in a way that’s almost sobering. Gojo opens the door for you to get inside his car and the warmth of your peach cobbler in your lap comforts some of the nerves you felt. By the time Gojo clicks his seatbelt into place in the driver seat, you realize you’ve never been in his car before, or driven anywhere by him before.

The interior smells of pine and something more familiar too, with sleek leather seats that are so comfortable they make you feel like you’re floating. You know it’s a Benz, you’re just not sure what year or model, and you’d usually ask most people out of a friendly curiosity, but for some reason your pride always got the best of you when it came to him.

“I seriously can’t wait to eat that thing you made,” Gojo comments after he’s backed out of the driveway, “it looks really nice.”

“Do you have a sweet tooth?” you ask him, glancing over at him, and you try not to stare at the strong one-handed grip he has on the steering wheel as he corrects it. 

“Oh yeah,” he answers, “big time.”

“You don’t seem like it,” you mindlessly say, turning your head to glance out into the dim street, passing by houses that idly sit in this neighborhood.

“Why’s that?” he asks.

“You seem to maintain a steady weight,” you politely comment.

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Is that the closest I’ll ever get to a compliment from you?”

You roll your eyes. “It’s just science. Hard to maintain a build if you eat a lot of sugar.”

He turns onto the mainroad, and you keep your gaze plastered to the outside. “I seem to manage.”

“It’s because you're tall. Tall people get to eat whatever they want.”

You see him nod his head once in your periphery, and you take it as some form of dismissal. “Sure.”

It doesn’t take terribly long to get to Gojo’s parents’ house, just a thirty-five minute drive without traffic. He kept surprisingly silent throughout most of it, and the few moments you did glance at his face, you could even say he looked like he was deep in thought. With a creased brow, a grip on the steering wheel that sometimes faltered, sometimes strengthened, but rarely fully eased. It was all so different from his usual impulse to talk. You know that you often wish for Gojo to shut the fuck up sometimes, but the silence seemed unsettling today.

His parents’ house is large, maybe twice the size of the homes in your neighborhood, but it’s tucked away in a slightly remote area, where the next closest house is about a quarter of a mile down the road. The driveway is long and runs downhill, so you stumble a little on the high heel of your shoe when you step down onto the pebbled pavement, but Gojo holds your elbow so you don’t fall onto your face. And also so you don’t drop the peach cobbler he so desperately wants to try. You’re not sure which of the two was the bigger priority for him.

As you two walk up the driveway towards the front entrance, you hear him sigh behind you. “Just so you know, my mom doesn’t really have any sense of boundaries.”

“Ah,” you comment, “nice to know where you get it from.”

He gives you an irritated look, seen in the corner of your eye, and it’s hard to fight the small amused smile that makes its way onto your face.

He sighs again as you two make it to the top of the steps. “Seriously, though. Chances of you wanting to leave me after this dinner are high.”

“Why? You’ve got a hot older brother I don’t know about or something?”

“I am the hot older brother,” he tells you.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, and then face him fully. “You’re not the first guy that’s warned me about his parents, okay? I’ll handle my own. What good is life if your in-laws–er, fake in-laws–aren’t at least a little strange?”

He lifts his finger to the doorbell, and just before pressing it, he says, “alright, then.”

It only takes twelve seconds for the door to swing open, the aroma of fresh herbs and something more sultry like vetiver arouse your senses, along with a warmth beckoning you from the inside of the home. 

Gojo’s mother stands at the doorway, surrounded by a halo of warm lighting, and her face instantly morphs into one of delightful glee.

“Oh! My dear, you’ve made it!” she exclaims happily, and just when you think she’s about to pull Gojo in for a hug, she pulls you in for one first instead, which startles you. “How lovely!”

“Oh—” you stutter, stumbling slightly as your nose becomes buried in the fluff of her silk pressed hair, but the delicate fragrance of lilac is somehow comforting.

She pulls you away to hold you by your shoulders. “You poor thing, you’re shivering! Come inside.” She hastily ushers you inside and you can feel the heat from Gojo’s body as he follows closely on your tail.

When his mother closes the door behind you, you find yourself surrounded by the kind of warmth only a house could provide. 

You take a small look around the foyer, noticing that it’s large with tones of deep wood and a bright white and golden chandelier that hangs daintily above in the cavity of the high ceilings. Leather, wood, velvet, silk, these are the textures that you see as you look around. It’s an old-fashioned taste, with a polished grand piano off to the right in the hall and display cases of vintage dolls and porcelain plates. So very different from modern, but it’s comforting. Like a wave of nostalgia, but from something you’ve never experienced before.

“What’s this?” Mrs. Gojo asks with curiosity lilting her voice as she walks up to you and points at the casserole dish you were holding.

“Oh, it’s peach cobbler,” you say, holding it up slightly with a small smile adorning your face, “for dessert.”

“How sweet! You’re an angel,” she coos, then twists her torso towards the kitchen, “honey! Come here, will you?”

Shuffling down the hallway from the heart of the house is, who you presume to be, Mr. Gojo. He’s tall, with his shoulders slightly curved forward as he approaches you all, and you note that he looks more aged than his missus.

“Ah, this must be my new daughter-in-law,” he says, his voice gruff and crackly from years of use. You smell the faintest hint of smoke from his clothing.

You glance at Gojo, who is watching you interact with his parents, an unreadable expression on his face as his hands remain shoved into the pocket of his suit pants.

Mr. Gojo takes the peach cobbler from you and gives you a curt smile before taking it back towards the kitchen.

“Darling, I must say, you have a lovely figure—” Gojo’s mother begins to say, reaching her hand out to hover it over the curve of your waist, but just at that moment, Gojo comes up to stand in between the two of you.

“Alright, what time’s dinner?” he asks.

Mrs. Gojo glances up at him, her face immediately twisting into a frown. “Nevermind that. I want to take y/n with me back to the kitchen to help braise the chicken,” she says, grabbing a hold of your wrist and tugging you towards her.

“Oh—” you stumble slightly.

“Nope,” you hear Gojo say from beside you, and suddenly there’s a strong arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you back to his side, “she stays with me for the night.” You’d remember to blush at the feeling of being pressed flush up against him, but the shock overshadowed.

“Satoru!” Mrs. Gojo exclaims, rather loudly, and she lets out a hmph noise before placing her hands on her hips. “You’re no fun!”

“I’m not gonna let you indoctrinate her into whatever multi-level marketing scheme you’ve fallen victim to this month,” he says, his hold on your waist tightening.

“How petulant!” she says, trying to manage a stern look but Gojo doesn’t seem fazed by it, “quit acting like I’m going to corrupt her! I’m not some witch.”

“Your track record would prove otherwise,” he comments.

“Oh please, the only other time was when you brought—”

She suddenly stops speaking, her eyes going wide, and she glances at you. You cluelessly tilt your head at her.

Ah. The other woman. This mysterious ex-wife. Would you be the other woman in this case? Seeing as to how his entire family seems to walk on eggshells about the subject around you. And they all seem to think that any mention of her would devastate you, when really, you and Gojo aren’t even actually lovers.

But there’s a small part of you,

A teeny tiny part,

Revealed from the way your heart sank at the realization of who his mother was referring to,

That actually does feel some type of way about it.

You want to know who this woman was to him. Does he still think of her? Does he still love her? What happened between them? Was she the one that got away? And how does he feel about the fact that he’s now here with you?

You shake your head vigorously to get those thoughts out of your head.

It was like method acting. You stepped into the role of wife this evening, and now you feel the way that they expect you to feel at the mention of your husband’s ex-lover.

That must be the reason, right?

You slowly push yourself out of Gojo’s hold, and you try not to become hyper aware of his eyes on you as you smooth out the fabric of your dress, then you glance at his mother.

“I’d love to help you braise the chicken,” you say.

There’s a brief silence as you find your voice in this house, and then Mrs. Gojo flashes you a grin.

“Come with me, honey,” she says before wrapping a delicate hand around your wrist and pulling you towards the heart of the house.

There are pictures hung up on the walls as you brush past every hallway, along with peeling wallpaper that is peppered with florals and striped prints, sanded off from years of shoulders brushing against their surfaces in a way that creates an old, dated charm. You learn quickly that Gojo has always been pretty tall, judging from the photo of him standing with, whom you assume are his middle school friends, out on a boat, holding a bass the size of a small child. 

There’s photos of the four of them together, like one professionally taken photo where Gojo and Sana are knelt in front of their parents, and your gaze fixates on the strong grip Mr. Gojo has on his son’s shoulder, digging deep in the bone, creasing the fabric, almost desperately. Gojo looks young in the photo, maybe a recent high school graduate, and his smile is bright but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

And, God, the trophies. The trophies that adorned the surfaces of aged cedar wood dressers, seemingly random in the order they are sprawled across the display yet you know there was intention behind it too. Ballet, soccer, tennis, spelling bee, FRC, even dragon boat racing. 

“Feel free to take any of those home,” Mrs. Gojo says with a teasing tone, “you eventually get tired of staring at them.”

You wouldn’t know. Your mother never had much extra cash hanging around to take you to tennis lessons, or ballet lessons, or SAT prep, or whatever. You were lucky enough that you got into college with the cards you were dealt, but you sometimes wonder what your potential could’ve been if you had parents like Gojo did. Maybe the house you live in would be your own, and not something that your mother has spent the past forty years of her life trying to pay off. Maybe you’d have a freshly renovated kitchen and a pretty boat out on the street. But throwing a pity party for yourself right now wasn’t exactly going to get you through the evening.

Mrs. Gojo finally leads you into the kitchen, and the aroma of fresh herbs overwhelms your senses. 

“Smells wonderful,” you comment.

“I know,” she cheekily comments, “will you turn the meat please?”

You grab a pair of tongs and attempt to sear the cuts that were sizzling on the stove.

“Sooooo,” she coos, wasting no time to playfully bump her hip to yours, “how is married life?”

“Nice,” you respond, your cheeks warming slightly, “it’s nice.”

“It won’t always be that way, you know,” she muses with some underlying sense of sincerity that isn’t lost on you.

When you remain quiet, concentrating on the searing sizzling noises coming from the pan, she decides to keep speaking.

“Eventually, you two will settle in a little too much…start to care less about your bodies…and then, oh gosh, when kids come into the picture, forget about having any time for yourselves,” she continues, “some days you’ll resent him, others you’ll feel like it’s the first time all over again.” She sighs. “Marriage is a funny thing—”

“Mrs. Gojo,” you interrupt her, turning to face her, “I—…I really appreciate you, I do, but, um, I’ve already learned a lot already about marriage from my own parents. Things are fine between Satoru and me.” You look into her widened eyes. “And…if something does happen down the line, and we choose not to be together anymore, then that’s okay too.”

After all, you had to prepare her.

“But that’s the thing!” she chirps, “your generation is too—…too impatient. Unwilling to work anything out! A marriage is supposed to be hard, but also it’s something you aren’t supposed to give up on so easily.”

It’s your turn to meet her with widened eyes in response to her preaching, and her posture immediately deflates before she holds you gently by your arm.

“I’m sorry, honey…I know it’s too early to be saying all these things to you,” she says, managing a small smile, “I always forget that I’m too old to be doting on my children like this anymore.”

Your expression softens and you wrap your palm over her bony knuckles, feeling the thinness of the skin that stretches over them. In a brief glimpse, you see your own mother in Mrs. Gojo’s eyes, something familiar, a universal expression of the love a parent has for their child.

“Well…” you say after clearing your throat, “for what it’s worth, you have nothing to worry about, Mrs. Gojo.” You try to manage a small smile. “I’m—…I’m really happy with your son.”

It was hard to lie to someone like this, especially from the way there’s relief that floods her irises, a genuine feeling that is so hard to come by in these days of false niceties. You often wonder how far a single white lie can stretch before it shatters against its own resistance.

“That’s a relief,” she says, managing her own prim smile, “I’m so glad.”

The two of you finish up in the kitchen, and when you circle around back into the hall, you see Sana standing in the warmly lit family room with Gojo and their dad.

Sana catches your eye, and you purse your lips together hesitantly before walking up to her.

“Hey,” you say softly and she returns the small smile you give her.

“Hi,” she says back to you.

“Um, where’s Juno?” you ask, looking around.

“Oh, she has a sleepover at her friend’s house tonight,” Sana says, “Jun’s dropping her off, and then he’ll come by here later.”

“Ah, I see,” you comment, itching at your elbow from the awkwardness.

“Well,” Mr. Gojo says, gesturing towards the dining room, “let’s eat, shall we?”

The three of you nod at him.

It’s fascinating to watch how the family falls naturally into their chairs, an assigned seating pattern that stays consistent among all dining halls and rooms and tables in the world, one that every family has. Mr. Gojo sits at the head of the table, his wife to his left, his son to his right. Sana sits quaintly to her mother’s left, and you sit across from her to Gojo’s left. The one empty seat is left for the presence of Jun.

“Food looks wonderful, darling,” Mr. Gojo says before leaning over to place a kiss on her bashful cheek.

Your heart does something weird at the sight. A simultaneous twinge paired with a warmer feeling that follows. You hardly witnessed any affection within your household growing up, not between your parents at least, probably because you were young when they got divorced and so the turmoils and tribulations started long before you had any higher order of cognitive discernment beyond the childish interest in Disney princesses and The Backyardigans. For you, the only memories that last of your parents’ marriage are those that feel like nothing more than the frigidity of a business arrangement. Ironically similar to the one you were currently in with Gojo. Except at least yours hadn’t been initially built on a foundation of love and a promise to be there for one another until death did you two apart.

Death was knocking on your mother’s doorstep now. But your father was nowhere to be found. So much for a vow.

Mr. Gojo pours his son a glass of whiskey, single malt as read on the label. Mrs. Gojo pours you and Sana a glass of red wine, and you try to hide the grimace, because you would’ve much rather had the whiskey.

“To y/n,” Mr. Gojo says, raising his glass up into the air, “for being our newest addition to the family.”

You all clink your glasses together, then in a variety of pairings, the last one being the tap of Gojo’s glass against yours, before you all take a drink.

“So…” Mrs. Gojo speaks up, “exactly how long have the two of you been married?”

You glance at Gojo for help, which isn’t exactly an unsuspecting thing to do.

“Four weeks,” he says.

You watch Mrs. Gojo’s eyes twitch. You can understand. Her own son gets married and doesn’t tell her anything about it for four weeks after the wedding. Well, in your case, a courthouse arrangement.

“Where did you two go for your honeymoon?” she asks, and Mr. Gojo clears his throat.

You look at Gojo for help again, and mentally pinch yourself for not being more discreet about how fake this whole thing is.

But Gojo surprisingly looks at ease. “Greece,” he says, and leaves it at that.

Mrs. Gojo’s body language turns to you, clearly irritated by her son’s short and curt answers. “Did you have a fun time, dear?”

“Oh! Yes, it was a very fun time. Definitely did all the newly wed stuff. Just as normal newlyweds do, you know. Because we are newlyweds,” you say through an awkward cough.

“Like…?” Mrs. Gojo pushes, and you can tell that she’s asking out of a genuine curiosity over the itinerary you two had allegedly carried out, but you crack under the pressure.

“W—…We made love,” you say, “we made lots and lots of love.”

The sound of silverware clanking onto ceramic plates startles you out of the blissful ignorance you had to the words that you had just said. Like you were so caught up in your mind about wanting to seem like an actual real life couple to his parents that you almost forgot about the number one social rule when meeting your (fake) significant other’s parents: no references to copulation. 

You glance up to find Mrs. Gojo’s eyes are wide, a slight tinge of pink to her cheeks. The width of Mr. Gojo’s eyes match his wife’s except his expression is also duly accompanied by a furrowed, perplexed brow. Sana looks visibly uncomfortable, shifting in her seat and trying hard to put on a poker face as she pretends like she didn’t just hear what you said.

You finally glance at Gojo, who’s looking at you with the most what the fuck? face you’ve ever seen someone make, and there’s concern on there somewhere too, like he’s not even fully convinced that you’re mentally sane at the moment because why on God’s green Earth would you say something like that at a family dinner table.

Trying your best to laugh it off, you say, “ah…ahaha, d-did I say make love? I meant–I meant that we–”

“Just–” Gojo interrupts you. “Just stop.”

Everyone are still stunned silent and the flush to your cheeks grows warmer. While clearing your throat, you set your lap napkin up on the table and clumsily scootch yourself out of your chair.

“Ex…cuse…me...” you mumble under your breath, knocking the table with your knee on accident, your wine glass almost toppling all over the pretty linen tablecloth but your reflexes catch the stem to steady it. “I need to…use the restroom.” And then you head straight down the hallway without sparing them another glance.

“Use the upstairs one!” Mrs. Gojo calls out to you, “the guest bathroom is under renovation.”

“Of fucking course it is,” you mutter under your breath, but flash them a polite smile before rounding the staircase pillar and then briskly walking up the stairs.

You quickly realize there’s more personality to the house upstairs, with some clutter in the theater loft and mismatching decorations that don’t reveal the careful deliberation of an indoor designer. The master bedroom is directly to the right of the top of the staircase and you glance across the loft at a narrow hallway that leads into the three bedrooms tucked away into the heart of the house.

One foot after the other, you float in that direction as if some force were compelling you towards it. Some trance of curiosity that no human being could ever resist. It’s fine. You didn’t actually need to piss anyways.

The first bedroom you walk past is rather boring, with beige tones all around. Beige bed sheets, beige wall paint, beige lamp shade, beige curtains. But the air smells crisp, and you notice there’s a shelf that has about half a dozen plants lined up in a variety of artistic pots. Similar to the set-up Gojo has in his house at home. You walk inside and brush your fingers across the dresser surface, rubbing fine dust over the pads of your fingers, and with your next inhale, you sneeze.

A guest bedroom, you think to yourself.

The next bedroom you walk past is sweeter, kinder, warmer. There’s pink hues scattered across, the most obvious one being the pillow covers, and there are some shades of a baby blue as well. But the furniture looks modern, sleek, and new. There were two identities at war in the room, like that of a little girl and a grown woman. Neither able to find its voice among the chaos of friendship bracelets sprawled across the desk and the Louis Vuitton purse resting at the foot of the bed. 

Sana’s room, you think to yourself. 

Childhood bedrooms are like time capsules if left untouched for very long. You’ve lived in your room at home for as long as you can remember, only recently having shifted to the master bedroom. The room grew up with you. It had no chance to become some entity of its own. 

The next bedroom you walk by feels familiar, even before you walk inside. There’s a comforting feeling that envelopes just from the lighting alone. You push the door open with a gentle palm.

The culprit of any young man’s room–navy blue sheets. Stretched taut against a made-up bed that has some sort of feminine flair to it, like it wasn’t set by Gojo, but rather his mother passing by his room one day to sit in his absence, only to needlessly mess with the sheets because it gave her a sense of purpose. You go eighteen years pouring blood, sweat, and tears into raising a child, protecting them, nurturing them, being the one they lean on for all of life’s woes, only for them to pack up and leave one day. You suppose that if you were a parent, you would find melancholy in that loss of responsibility too. 

His desk is a large expanse of cedar wood with a desktop monitor and some bookshelf speakers set up on it. The PC itself has collected dust over the years but there’s a small mechanical whirring noise you hear somewhere within. The rest of the desk is mostly empty except for some unopened mail tucked away with some books, the spines creased at the last few hundred pages, but never to the end. 

You pick one of the books up, flipping the pages open, and see sticky notes on some of them. Like English literature notes one would take in class, with studious words that over exaggerate the significance of the prose just to make a teacher happy. Who cares if the curtains were blue? Maybe the author just wanted them to be blue. Why does everything in life have to have meaning?

Setting the book back down with a sigh, you walk over to the bookshelf. There are some more trophies, some sets of comic books, some strange robotic-looking figurines. Small picture frames of foreign scenery are set up in different corners wherever there is empty space, like an afterthought. 

“Hmm…” you hum to yourself, tilting your head to the side to read the vertical spine of a thick black book that was tucked flush up against the shelf's side. 

West Valley High School. Class of 2007.

With your index finger hooking the spine, you slowly pull the book out from its comfy corner. It’s heavy in your hands and you notice that there are ink smudges across the tips of your fingers.

When you open the cover, you’re met with a page filled with a variety of colors and handwriting, and you realize they’re signatures. And to no one’s surprise, most of them are feminine. With hearts, some merely outlines, some shaded in with ink, scattered across the page. Bubbly handwriting, neat handwriting, cursive handwriting, a lot of it in pinks and purples and reds. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was like those Valentine’s Day cards all the girls would sign in grade school to pass onto their crush, except imagine if all of them were intended for just one guy.

You roll your eyes as you flip the pages, seeing no end in sight to the signed ink. I mean, come on, how many signature pages does a yearbook even need? This was excessive. And, no, you aren’t bitter simply because your high school yearbook has maybe a max of fifteen signatures (four of which were from your teachers). It’s just frustrating. And confusing. Why does everyone on this planet adore Gojo except you? Is there something wrong with you? Are you the problem?

There are some signatures from boys too, most likely his friends. Otherwise, you’re not sure what random fleeting classmate you’ve only spoken to a couple times would be brazen enough to draw pictures of penises squirting in whatever empty space they could find in your yearbook, if not for his high school friends. These boys are probably in their mid thirties now, just as Gojo is, maybe with wives and kids they’re now responsible for. You wonder if they’d still find the drawings funny all the same today.

You flip the pages more, taking in image after image after image of smiling portraits. ABC…DE…F…ah, G. Hmm, there. There it was. 

Gojo Satoru.

Seems like his high school didn’t allow yearbook quotes, but you try to imagine what his would be. Probably something corny and lame, like See kids? I told you I was sexy in high school.

He looks cute though. With his hair fluffy, boyishly ruffled to pair with a charming smile that’s at ease. He just looks a little younger, that’s all. Not that much different. Perhaps a bit more scrawny, a bit more mischievous-looking. As opposed to his adult self, who appears sturdy. More serious. But you realize that cheeky part of him that comes out every now and then when he’s teasing you or pissing you off is that boy within him that looks exactly like the portrait in this yearbook that you trace with the pad of your finger. 

You close the book, suddenly a little out of breath, and then slip it back into place. Your eyes catch the shimmer of the trophy at the top of the shelf. It was shaped like a baseball glove mitt, and in the palm cup, there is an actual baseball in there with a black ink signature. You gently pick it up and turn it in your palm to try and read the ink.

Ichiro.

Your dad used to watch baseball. You’re familiar. Seattle Mariners, Ichiro Suzuki. The first Japanese player to ever make it to the Major Leagues. Ten time all-star, and tenth member of the Mariners hall of fame. He retired when you were just a little girl, but you still remember the look of awe in your father’s eyes as he stared at the box TV in the living room of your house when Ichiro took his last stand at the plate.

Gojo was also a boy at that time. Living in this house. Maybe his old man was watching that game at the same time. And maybe Gojo was watching the look on his father’s face, too. It’s the romance of life–you look up at the moon in the sky, and you know that there is someone else out there, someone that you’ll meet some day, maybe even someone that will mean the world to you someday, who’s looking at it too. But you just don’t know it yet.

Lost in endless, rather fruitless thought, you continue to turn the baseball in your hand to pointlessly assess the seams, but it slips out of your hand and onto the carpeted floor with a loud hollow thud that startles you, and when you attempt to bend down and pick it up, you accidentally push it with your toe and it rolls underneath the bed.

“Shit,” you mumble, getting down onto your hands and knees to look underneath the bed.

You see the ball rolled a few feet away, and when you reach for it, it becomes clear that you don’t have the arm span to grab it. You struggle and you struggle, the tips of your fingers barely tickling its seam, and the frustration makes you sweat a little.

“Come…here…you…stupid…thing,” you mutter. You’re sure your hair is a static mess now, too. 

You finally manage to roll it towards you a couple inches and then your palm wraps around it before pulling it to your shoulder, but not without something collateral that’s dragged along with it.

A photograph. Printed out, vintage. You pinch the corner between your two fingers and stand back up onto your two feet in order to better assess the image under the light of the floor lamp.

The first person you notice in the photo is Gojo. He looks younger than in the yearbook, but he’s wearing a suit and a tie. It’s a little big on him, ill-fitting as most teenage boys should look in a suit, like a rite of passage. His smile is less warm than the one in the yearbook too, more prim and stretched into a thin line that’s only slightly curved upwards. It’s only then when you notice the slender fingers sprawled across his chest near the collar of his undershirt, black nail polish blending in with the fabric of the suit. Your eyes trail the dainty hand, and your heart skips a beat when you see a girl standing next to him, pressed up against him, her smile much brighter than his. Pink braces line her teeth and her hair is that classic mid-2000s side-swept bang mess, but she’s pretty. Dressed in a pink-ish purple gown that almost looks like a bridesmaids dress, and you finally see the banner stretched across behind the both of them in the picture that reads Homecoming 2005. 

It’s hard to explain it, but you can just feel it somehow. That this person is important to him. Not just some last-minute date to Homecoming, or an old high school girlfriend he’s long since lost touch with. It seems larger than that, somehow. Unlike penises drawn on yearbook paper, this feels like something a person never outgrows.

Of course, people have lived fully-fledged lives before you’ve met them. Just as you have as well. But you’re overtaken by the insane curiosity to want to learn every single detail about this past life that Gojo has lived. Where did he and his friends hang out after school? When did he learn how to drive? When was the first time he got shit-faced drunk? When was the first time he snuck out of the house? And who was this girl in the picture? 

“Find what you’re lookin’ for yet?” a voice calls out, entirely startling you to where you almost jolt out of your skin, and you swiftly turn on your heel towards the entrance of the room. 

You see Gojo standing in the door frame, leaning against it with his arms crossed as he levels his gaze at you. He has a blank expression on his face, although you would say it’s more serious than playful. 

“What–...I–” you stutter, shuffling the picture you were holding behind your back so he doesn’t see. 

His eyes don’t flit to the movement. “You don’t have to tear the room apart to find my illicit drugs. You could’ve just asked.”

 You roll your eyes. “As if you would do drugs.”

“You say that like it’s an insult.”

“It is.”

“So, then, if you’re not looking for drugs, what are you looking for?”

Your cheeks are warm. “I don’t know. Petty cash? Human body parts? Playboy?”

He snorts. “Playboy? Who still has a subscription to Playboy?”

“Maybe your teenage self did.”

“I’m not that old,” he says, “I was watching porn like the rest of my peers.”

“Ew, you freak,” you say, and you grab one of his pillows and throw it at him.

He lets out a laugh before catching the pillow with ease, and then walks up to you, placing the pillow on top of your head. You half-glare, half-pout at him.

“C’mon,” he probes, “tell me why you’re hiding away up here.”

“I embarrassed myself,” you confide in him with a sulk of your shoulders. “I mean. Seriously. What the fuck was that? What a humiliating thing to say in front of your parents. I just feel so weird pretending like this.”

His expression softens. “Sorry,” he says, “for dragging you into this dinner.”

“No,” you sigh, “I’m the one that did. I forgot you can’t necessarily fake a marriage without…doing the typical couple things.”

“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,” he hums as his gaze flits towards the bed, “doing the typical couple things, you say?”

You roll your eyes. “In your dreams.”

“Oh, in my dreams alright,” he says with a grin.

“And if I strangled you? What then?”

“I like that. It’s kinky.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you don’t have magazines lying around?”

“Brown box underneath the bed. You didn’t look hard enough.”

You give him a disgusted look. He laughs.

“I’m joking,” he says, pushing his hands into his pockets.

“I’m not convinced,” you say, turning your body away from him slightly to keep the photo hidden behind your back.

He tilts his head at you, gaze flickering down to your other hand. Your heart skips a beat. “I could’ve guessed that.” 

His hand reaches out and you flinch ever so slightly, something he thankfully doesn’t notice, and then he’s grabbing the baseball out of your palm.

“I always thought I could sell this thing for major money,” he muses, throwing the ball up into the air to catch it. And then doing so again a couple times.

“It’s authentic?” you ask with genuine curiosity.

“Oh yeah. I caught it. First ball game my old man ever took me to, and it happened to be Ichiro’s last.”

Your eyes widen. Gojo was at that game. He wasn’t just watching it from home on some TV like you did with your dad. He was living in it.

“Wow,” you say, “must’ve been quite the game.”

“Don’t really remember too much about it to be honest, other than how stoked I was to just be there with my dad.”

“Mm,” you hum, “I’ll have to ask Mr. Gojo more about it when we get downstairs.”

His expression falters slightly, his smile dropping in the most subtle way that you wouldn’t have even noticed if you hadn’t been intently staring at his face. 

“Yeah,” he says, “maybe.”

Gojo continues to stare at the ball in his palm as he rotates it in inspection. There’s an awkward silence that settles between the two of you, and you feel the burden of conversation has suddenly fallen on you. 

“My, um. My dad was a fan too,” you say.

His eyes glance up to meet yours. “How come I’ve never met him?”

The question catches you off guard. “Wh–...I’m sorry, what?”

“Your dad,” he says, as if it was something so casual. 

“That–...well, he’s–...I don’t know, I haven’t seen him in years,” you admit, “not since…not since my mother was diagnosed with cancer.”

He stares at you earnestly, studying your expression, before he decides on saying nothing else except, “I’m sorry about that.”

You sigh. “Satoru, I–” you start, keen on the way his body stiffens slightly when you say his name, “I really don’t have the capacity for much else tonight. I mean, the questions. And the lies. And walking on eggshells around your mom.” 

“Well. I was sent up here to get you,” he says, “and I can’t exactly go downstairs empty handed.”

“Fine. Let’s just get this dinner over with as fast as possible.”

“Sure,” he easily agrees, “I’m with you on that one.”

You take a step forward to head towards the door, but then suck in a sharp gasp when you remember what was being held behind your back.

“Wait,” you say, “look away.”

“...huh?” he huffs, a puzzled look on his face.

“Just look away for a second.”

His eyebrows furrow before he lifts one in a questioning manner. But he acquiesces and turns on his heel to face away from you. “Have I ever told you how strange you are?”

“No,” you say while discretely crouching down, playing along in an attempt to distract him, “you haven’t.” You flinch a little from the sound of your hip popping, but he doesn’t seem to notice and so you bend your wrist in preparation of flinging the photo back to the abyss underneath his bed.

But you stop.

And you take one more glance at the photo.

And your stomach flips the same way it did the first time you saw it.

If you asked, would he tell you?

But the more pressing question is,

Why are you so scared to find out?

You shake your head vigorously to get rid of all your pestering intrusive thoughts. It was the stress, you played it off. A hyperactive mind leads to hyperactive ruminations. And besides, it’s just silly. Sure, there’s your gut feeling that suggests otherwise. But this girl in the photo could really just be an old friend or girlfriend that had no significant impact on the trajectory of his life. Why be the crazy one and lose sleep over this? You’ve lost sleep over plenty of other things in your life, but not stuff like this. It’s just not like you.

You fling the photo across underneath the bed and then stand up just in time for when Gojo turns around to look at you out of curiosity.

“Alright,” you say, dusting your hands off, “let’s go.”

You walk over to where he stands by the doorframe, a slight warmth to your cheeks when he doesn’t move out of your way like he usually does, but instead he leans towards you slightly as you brush past him, and your heart jumps a beat in your chest when you feel his hand gently fall to the small of your back, softly urging you forward ahead of him. A feather of a touch, yet intentional, almost naturally so, like a curious test of the boundary between you two that he’s been dying to understand a bit better. And the fact you don’t turn on your heel to face him with that same undeserved and petty rage that you always do, and instead slightly shudder at the feel of his touch, means that somewhere along the way, you’ve moved the line a little closer.

He’s hot on your trail as you walk down the stairs slowly and when you turn around the post at the bottom then make your way back to the dining room, you see his family staring at you with wide eyes.

His mother stands up. “y/n! Come sit back down, dear.”

You nod meekly, and Gojo pulls your chair out for you to take a seat before he resumes his seat next to you.

The food is slightly cold by the time you finally get to pick at it. It’s not very seasoned, either. Not enough salt for your taste. But somehow Mrs. Gojo having a phobia of sodium is a study of character that makes perfect sense in your head.

Eventually, the awkward silence is too much for you to bear, and you set your fork and knife down on your napkin with a slight bit more force than you probably should’ve.

Everyone looks at you.

You sigh. “I’m sorry for earlier,” you say, “I’m…uh, I’m just not really used to these sorts of dinners…I don’t have much family here in this town, and it’s always just sort of been my mom and me. And I—…I guess I’m just a little nervous.”

Wide eyes blink at you. Mr. Gojo shifts a little uncomfortably in his seat while Mrs. Gojo blinks her long lashes at you. Sana tilts her head, and you have no interest in seeing what Gojo’s expression looks like. You fear it’s the one you’d remember the most.

You were just being honest with how you felt. And it doesn’t take you long to realize something you probably should’ve realized earlier walking into a home like this where everything was perfect and on display with no evidence of the way a true family can crumble on the inside—a house like this does not value honesty. Your mother couldn’t afford you many luxuries in life, but you never felt like you couldn’t be honest in front of her. 

You glimpse up at Sana, and there is some knowing expression on her face. It’s almost sympathetic. As if you two were on the same page about something right now. When you glance at Gojo, you see him staring down at his plate with his brow slightly furrowed.

“It…it’s quite alright, dear,” his mother says through a prim voice, and in an attempt to change the subject, she says, “I do hope you are enjoying the chicken.”

“Ah,” you exhale, “yes. I am.”

“So!” Mrs. Gojo chimes in again as she dabs her mouth to a linen napkin. “Tell me about what you do for fun.”

You blink at her. “Oh, umm…binge watch TV? Occasionally I’ll go for a walk.”

“Ahh interesting! What about reading? Do you enjoy reading?”

“Well, the last book I purchased was a picture book about North Korean missiles…so.”

She lets out a laugh. “And where do you see yourself in five years?”

You hear Gojo sigh beside you before he reluctantly sets down his silverware and then he turns to Mrs. Gojo. “Mom. C’mon. This isn’t a job interview. Just let her eat.”

There’s a slight tinge of pink to the tips of her ears from the interrogation interruption as she glances between the two of you. She looks over at Sana for help but finds nothing other than a gaze tipped down towards a plate full of picked-at food. Mr. Gojo folds a hand over her frail knuckles as if to silently communicate, but Mrs. Gojo retreats her hands to fold in her lap underneath the table.

Feeling somewhat bad for the two of them, you turn the face Gojo’s dad. “Um…Mr. Gojo, Satoru was telling me about how you were a big baseball fan and a big Ichiro fan…do you still keep up with the Mariners?”

The man’s eyes grow wide with a visible confusion and you swear you hear Gojo clear his throat beside you.

“Ah…that’s–” he starts before the sound of the doorbell ringing startles you.

Sana immediately stands up without a word of excusal or a glance in anyone’s direction and she heads straight for the door.

You all look around at one another before Mrs. Gojo says, “must be Jun.”

You were at least glad to find you would not be the only “in-law” at the table full of a tension-laced family dinner, especially given the fact that in most of the cases where you’ve met Jun, his penchant to talk overshadows any other energy.

“What’s up, y/n!” Jun shouts when he waltzes into the dining hall, a few steps ahead of Sana. He throws his jacket over the first surface he finds, body language matching that of someone twenty years younger than he actually is. You can’t tell if it’s overcompensation for something, or if he just genuinely believes he’s still in his twenties. 

To your surprise, he opens his arms out for you to greet him with a hug, and you hesitate before standing up slightly to give him a well-meaning wrap of your arms around him, but it lacks any warmth of familiarity.

“Welcome to the fam!” he jovially exclaims before patting your arm. He then hugs Mr. Gojo, then Mrs. Gojo (paired with those cheek kisses that the French do in greeting), then daps up Gojo (to which you notice Gojo is less than enthusiastic about) before he finally kisses Sana on the cheek and then takes his seat at the other end of the table. Your eyes are keen on Sana now, watching her intently, but she remains staring at the food on her plate. You had a feeling there was someone in this room that didn’t want to be at this dinner even more than you did.

“How was traffic, Jun?” Mr. Gojo asks.

“Oh it was nothing. Took a shortcut. Backroute off of Lake City Way. Full of pot holes though.”

Sana turns to him and scowls. “While you were taking Juno to her sleepover?!”

He lifts an eyebrow at her. “Yeah? We were running late.”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to take that route to get into the city! Those pot holes are so dangerous.”

“Honey. Chill. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Just last week I saw news of three plot holes on the Mercer Street intersection opened up. Three people were injured, including a young boy.”

“Okay well if I also believed everything I saw on the news was going to personally happen to me too then we’d have never gotten this far in life.”

“Jun,” Sana deadpans.

“W-Why don’t I fix you a plate, Jun? You must be tired.” Mrs. Gojo chimes in. 

Sana breathes in deep and exhales slowly before slumping down into her chair. 

“Thanks,” Jun says, easing his brow as he sits back in his chair nonchalantly, before he turns to Gojo and starts to talk about mundane things like the stock market, the recent election, something about a new bowling record, and this one Thai restaurant he really wants to try on the other end of town, all within the span of time it takes Mrs. Gojo to set a plate down in front of him.

Mr. Gojo jumps in on conversation from time to time. Mrs. Gojo listens idly, sometimes placing a laugh where she feels appropriate. Jun gets particularly animated about this incident he ran into earlier last week when he was dropping Juno off at school, a story that you notice everyone at the table is for some reason entirely intrigued by, but you suppose it’s the most interesting topic of conversation you’ve all had tonight thus far. At certain critical points of the story, Sana jumps in with a that’s not what happened, Jun and you find yourself finally settling in somewhat to the evening.

Just as Jun’s story is ending, you glance up to Mrs. Gojo and find that she’s staring at you with a smile on her face. It makes you jump in your seat a little, luckily unnoticed by the rest of the table because of Jun’s engaging theatrical hand gestures as he attempts to keep his wife, his brother-in-law and his father-in-law engaged. You would’ve expected Mrs. Gojo to avert her gaze the second yours locked with hers, but she doesn’t. She just continues to look at you with a soft smile on her face and a slight tilt to her head, like she’s getting used to the sight of seeing you at this table.

Her gaze flits downwards slightly and you follow her line of gaze, tracing it to the ring that was adorning your left hand. 

Your eyes widen slightly.

“Oh–” you stutter, the words already getting caught in your throat, “I–...I forgot to say, it’s an honor to wear your ring, Mrs. Gojo.” The table suddenly goes quiet, and you can’t tell if it’s because of you, or if it’s because there was no more story left to tell. “It’s beautiful.”

It truly felt like for every two steps you took forward, it was ten steps backwards. Because you watch the way that soft smile of hers entirely drops, her expression replaced with one of confusion, brows knitted together as she looks at you like you’ve just spoken in a language no one on Earth can speak. 

She glances at Gojo, and you don’t have to look at him  to tell that he’s stiff in his seat. You could’ve felt the tension from a mile away. 

Mrs. Gojo looks at you again. “Oh honey, that–” She glances between you and Gojo. “That’s not my ring…”

Your eyes widen, cheeks already flush from whatever’s to come.

But suddenly, and to your surprise, Sana speaks up. “It was our mother’s ring.”

You look at her with confusion. And then you glance at Gojo. And then you glance back at Sana. And then at Mr. & Mrs. Gojo.

“But…” you trail off.

“Sumiko and Daichi are our aunt and uncle,” Sana says with a strained voice, “our real parents died in a house fire when we were younger.”

You blink at her in shock.

“He didn’t tell you?” Mr. Gojo asks.

“I–” You glance at Gojo and see that he’s poking his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he stares down at the glass of scotch he was twirling around in his hand.

“Of course he didn’t,” Sana interrupts, the bitterness in her voice matching the attitude she’s since displayed this entire evening. Her gaze is locked onto her brother’s face, and when his gaze flickers up to meet her eye contact, his expression is set with a tense jaw. “He never wants to mention them. He never wants to acknowledge their life. He never wants to honor them. He just wants to pretend like they never existed.”

“Sana,” he cuts her off, and a chill gets sent down your spine from the seriousness and rigidity in his voice. “Now’s not the time for this.”

“When is the fucking time?!” she spats at him, the simmering tension brewing over. Ah. Yes. The moment you had been expecting. After all, what family does not have its baggage? Sana abruptly stands up from the table, startling everyone with the clanking of silverware and ceramic from the motion. “When is the fucking time for you to admit that you never gave a shit about mom and dad dying? When is the fucking time for you to admit that we moved on to live with these people so fast? When is the fucking time for you to admit how wrong it was for you to force me to call the people here my mom and dad my whole life when they aren’t?” Her voice cracks near the end.

You glance at Mr. & Mrs. Gojo, who both look shocked, hurt, even embarrassed as they gaze down at their food. Your heart stalls in your chest for them.

When you glance back at Gojo, you see that his gaze is hardened even further now. “You’re being rude,” he says, in as steady of a voice as he can manage from the way his brow is creased with disappointment. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Sana says as she wipes at the tears with her sleeves, and you notice that she looks young like this. Younger than the usual prim and proper self that she portrays. Too young to be a mom, too young to be a wife, too young to be an adult. Like someone propelled into a life that she never wanted. “That’s always what you say, isn’t it? No answers, you just claim that I’m being childish and rude.” Jun tries to reach out to hold her hand but she snatches it away from him. Under her breath she says, “I didn’t want to come here. I should’ve just stayed home.” And with a rough swipe of her sleeve across both of her cheeks, she suddenly storms off somewhere deep into the house. Jun immediately stands up to follow her, leaving the four of you here with stale, cold food.

The timer in the oven goes off, the sound heard in the distance like a lifeline, and Mrs. Gojo immediately stands up. “Ah, must be…the roasted potatoes. I’ll be right back,” she fusses, and you avert your gaze from her face so she doesn’t feel embarrassed over the streak of a tear you saw streaming down her face.

“Let me help you,” Mr. Gojo says in a small sheepish mumble before following his wife into the kitchen.

And then there were two.

You only have a moment to process the dramatic outburst and subsequent fall-through before you turn in your chair to face Gojo, your face narrowing in contempt. You see him running a hand through his hair, entirely ruffling out any sort of neatness he had combed it into earlier, and he undoes the top button of his shirt with an impatient thumb like he was letting go of whatever image he had been trying to keep up for tonight, because after what just happened, there was no use. 

“So when were you going to tell me that they aren’t actually your real parents???��� you hiss at him.

He sighs and runs a hand down his face. “They’ve raised us since Sana was just three years old. I didn’t think it mattered.” 

“Okay well if I had known then I wouldn’t have mentioned the ring??? Now everyone’s left the table because of me.”

“It’s not because of you,” he quickly corrects you, “it’s because of years of unnecessary drama of which I’ve still got no fucking clue why it still gets brough up at every. family. dinner. If you didn’t bring it up, then they would’ve figured out a way to bring it up somehow anyways.”

You blink at him, a little taken aback by how dejected he was by this entire conversation.

“Are you going to go check on Sana?” you ask him.

“No,” he says without hesitation, “she’ll calm down soon enough.”

You press your lips into a thin line, contemplating his dismissal, before you let out a huff of disappointment and disapproval. You pull your napkin off of your lap, setting it up on the table, and slip out of your chair to head into the house in the direction you saw Sana storm off into, leaving Gojo to himself at the table.

As you walk down the hallway, all those pictures you saw hung up on the walls, those photos of illusion that painted this pretty picture of a nuclear family fall apart in the narrow space, those firm smiles and hesitant postures making much more sense to you now. They aren’t even his real parents. Baseball and wedding rings. Those details belonged to a life he never intended on sharing with you. 

You walk past the kitchen, stopping briefly just beyond the entrance before backtracking and you find Sana standing near the sink with her arm across her chest as her other hand wipes at her cheeks. The soft sound of a sniffle echoes in the room and you’re surprised to see that Jun left her alone.

Tentatively, you shuffle your feet across the wooden floor. She seems to make note of you in her periphery but refuses to glance up. 

“Hey…” you start when you finally make it to the space in front of her, your hip leaning against the edge of the sink counter in parallel with hers as you face her.

“I—” she starts, shuffling her palms across her cheeks again. “I am so severely embarrassed.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the honesty. “Don’t be. It’s just family.”

“No but that’s the point,” she says through a crack in her voice, “I’m thirty-one, I’m married, I’m a mom, but they’ll always just see me as some immature little brat because I always behave like this.”

You don’t know what to say. You suppose if you were a therapist, or a priest, or a mentor, or a mom yourself, or any other person with an emotional IQ higher than yourself, you would know the right thing to say to her right now. But you don’t. So silence is all that you can offer her, and you hope that it’s enough.

It seems to work in it’s own magical way, as she slowly opens herself up to you within the next passing sixty seconds. A fleeting glance up to your face. The halt of pointless fidgeting with the fabric of her sleeve. The way she stands up straighter, her hip no longer leaning against the kitchen counter, and you find that you mirror the same movement.

She clears her throat, rubbing her nose with the knuckle of her index finger, her eyes no longer glistening with tears but the corners of them look puffy.

You glance down at your feet for a moment before inhaling deep and making eye contact with her. “Hey, listen…” you say, “I’m—…I’m really sorry…about earlier today. For overstepping about the bullying. Juno’s your daughter, and I really shouldn’t have given her advice before at least running it by you beforehand. Especially for something so sensitive.”

The delicate muscles of her brow lift in surprise at your words, lids fluttering slowly as she processes your words, and the wave of melancholy is contagious as it washes through you as well.

“I’m sorry too,” she says, “for how angry I got with you. It’s just—” she hesitates, and you see that semblance of her that you’re more familiar with. Strict, stern, rough around the edges but for a noble reason. “Y’know, with kids…we tend to get overprotective over them.” Her gaze drops to somewhere beneath yourselves as if she suddenly lost confidence in her train of thought. “I’m just trying to do the right thing for her.”

A silence settles between the two of you before you realize you ought to respond to her.

“I get it,” you finally say. “I mean—…I don’t. Because I’m not a mom. But…I’m sure that when I am one some day, I’d understand.”

She finally offers you a smile in return to your words, polite but genuine nonetheless. And a soft remnant sniffle makes her ruffle her nose.

Her expression softens, and she stares straight ahead to your collarbone rather than your eyes. “She really likes you, you know?” Sana glances up at you now. “Hasn’t stopped talking about your ‘blubbery’ pancakes since last week.”

“Aww.”

There’s a sad glint in her eyes when she turns her torso away from you slightly in resignation before some hint of optimism flashes by in her face and she turns to you again.

“Do you…think you could give me the recipe?”

You want to ask her if everything is okay. But instead, you say, “sure.”

The sound of footsteps approaching is heard near the kitchen entrance and the two of you glance in that direction to see Jun walking in. He offers you a fleeting glance before taking his place beside Sana, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling him towards her before placing a kiss on her temple and saying, “hey honey.” 

You watch as she averts her gaze down to the tips of her toes.

“Feeling better?” he asks her but there’s this lack of warmth you cannot quite discern.

“Yes,” she responds, scratching at her cheek as a discreet way of getting rid of the last remaining wetness that had streamed down her face earlier.

He rubs her arm soothingly and then looks at you with a smile pressed into a firm line. “Doing alright?”

You blink at him. “Wh—…yes.”

“Say, y/n, how’s your mom doing by the way?” he asks.

“She’s…better. She’s in hospice now.”

“Palliative?”

“Well—” you say, “I guess. It’s just temporary.”

He shuffles inside the pocket of his coat and takes out something. A small card with finely printed black ink on it. He hands it to you.

“I can’t imagine how expensive that all must be,” he says, and you glance down at the card.

Carevest Capital est. 2016

Invest in a healthier you!

You glance up at Jun. Sana’s gaze has now shifted to the inside of the sink.

“I started this business,” he says, “where we’re revolutionizing the way healthcare costs are managed. In our platform, we basically invest our clients’ money into the stock market, leveraging our high-reward algorithm to maximize returns. But here’s the unique part: we partner with leading healthcare CEOs who match a portion of the profits as an incentive for stock purchases. Together, these funds go directly toward paying off hospital bills and easing related financial burdens.”

Your eyes widen at his words. The speech was practiced, one you can only assume he has pitched to many potential clientele. But there’s a hint of personable grace to it as well.

“I’m telling you, y/n, we’ve had clients who have overcome six figures of medical debt in just six months,” he says, “and you’ll only need a couple thousand dollars to start yourself up.”

You purse your lips together, your finger pinching the corner of the card. “That’s amazing, Jun.”

He smiles at you, releasing Sana’s waist. “Sorry if this kinda came out of nowhere, but I heard through the grapevine that things have been rough.”

Oh, like how your card has declined publicly at the grocery store multiple times, or how you haven’t been able to afford your insurance deductible to get that chipped off part of your bumper fixed, or the fact you haven’t paid your landscapers in over three months so your lawn now looks like a swamp? It was a small town. And people’s finances were always a topic of interest for most.

“I just wanted to offer any help I can,” Jun says.

“Thanks,” you say, returning his smile, “I’ll, um, I’ll look into it.” You push the card into your pocket.

He offers you that same firm smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes before he pulls Sana to him again, placing another kiss along her hairline and the PDA seems like overcompensation on some front from the way Sana is entirely frigid to his touch. 

Maybe it was a woman’s intuition,

But you felt like something was wrong.

“Kids,” you hear Mr. Gojo’s crackly voice say as he stands leaning against the doorframe near the kitchen entrance, “let’s finish dinner?”

The three of you exchange glances before nodding and heading back towards the hall.

Your peach cobbler was apparently very good, the only thing that seemed to cut through the tension of the night. But that was the thing with family, right? You can yell and scream and cry and lecture and mope and roll your eyes at each other all you want but at the end of the day, they’re still family. Sana still seems slightly dejected though, and you can see Gojo in the corner of your eye at the table glancing up at her every other minute or so. His own way of making sure she’s doing okay, you think to yourself. Sana refuses to meet anyone’s line of sight except yours, however, which makes you feel some slight burdensome responsibility of sisterhood you had never signed up for. Nonetheless, you try to offer her a soothing smile whenever she looks up at you, and it seems to put her at ease.

The news of Sana and Jun moving seemed slightly anticlimactic, as Mrs. Gojo mentioned that they had already had an inkling that Jun and Sana would be moving closer to the city. You briefly wonder if Mrs. Gojo knew all along, but decided to make the announcement into some big affair just so that she could see her niece and nephew over a meal.

You make no more embarrassing comments. Conversation dulls into anything and everything unpersonal to you all, such as the news and weather and gossip of other people. And somewhere along the night, you relax your knee, the ball of it pressing into Gojo’s thigh underneath the table. It was wordless, innocent contact that occurs when two people become more comfortable with one another. Only excusable due to the slight buzz you felt in your veins from the wine. He’s kissed you before, yet somehow the press of his thigh against yours feels even more searing. There’s a point along the night where you tip your head to the right slightly, daringly close to resting your head on his shoulder due to the tipsy dizziness weighing in your head, and it would certainly put on a convincing show of newlywed affection for his aunt and uncle, but you manage to catch yourself. And subsequently refuse any more glasses of wine.

“Thanks for having me,” you say to Mrs. Gojo at the front entrance before she pulls you in for a hug.

“Oh, anytime dear,” she says as she gently pats your back, “please.”

When she pulls away from the hug, she holds you by your shoulders before her eyes glance down towards your left hand and the shimmering diamond that sat on the ring finger. She holds your hand in hers and lifts it to examine the twinkle underneath the lights of the chandelier.

“It really is a pretty ring,” she says, her eyes glossing over. “It looked beautiful on my sister, and it looks beautiful on you too.”

Your breath hitches slightly in your throat. “Thank you, Mrs. Gojo.”

“Please,” she says in response to the title, “Sumiko is fine.” But in less of a way in which she’s relaxing formalities, but rather in a way that acknowledges she never had the sovereignty to be called that in the first place.

You hear masculine voices approaching down the hallway as the three men make their way towards the front entrance as well. Gojo glances at you in the midst of their conversation, and he leaves the two of them to make his way over to you.

“Alright,” Gojo says, turning to face the rest of them as he stands beside you. “We’ll head out now.”

Sumiko pulls him in for a hug, then his uncle, and then obnoxiously by Jun as well. Sana fidgets with her fingers as she remains at the end of the line, and you catch a glimpse of surprise on her face when Gojo pulls her in for a hug too. You see him whisper something to her, and it’s only after she hears what he said that she returns the hug and wraps her arms around him as well.

You’re jolted out of your people-watching trance when Gojo walks up to you and takes your hand in his, shoving his other in his pocket. You glance down at the sight, the way his large hand engulfs your own. It’s warm in a firm hold, delicately squeezing your hand once right before you feel the cold air behind you when his uncle opens the door.

Well, you survived. That’s what you think to yourself as you sit in the passenger seat of Gojo’s car, watching the city lights twinkle as you two drive by. You don’t know what you were expecting. Drama? Ease? Tension? For a piece of the sky to fall and land on the roof? There was a part of you that wanted to impress. You want to be one of those daughter-in-laws that the in-laws just adore. You know, where they’re like, god am I so happy that she’s a part of the family now! The one that the mother-in-law is just so ecstatic to know that her son managed to hold down such a catch.

But any expectations and pressure dissolve with the reminder that this is all fake. Fake, fake, fake. And you’d do really well to remind yourself of that reality whenever you spent time with Gojo. Whenever you find yourself acclimating into his life for even a moment, just remember that it’s fake. Can you have a little fun here and there? Sure. Will you probably find yourself in even stranger situations going forward? Yes, because, well, that’s how life is. But it’s just fake. No obligations, no responsibility, nothing. Nada. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

But as you walk through the front door, staring straight ahead into the dark house at Gojo’s back as he sets down the keys by the foyer table, and even as you follow him further into the house towards the kitchen, that feeling inside you surges. 

A woman's intuition.

That something between Jun and Sana was wrong.

Not just routine marital issues,

Or the occasional argument,

Something worse. Something dangerous.

And it’s not something you would ever expect a man to pick up on, even Gojo.

Because it was from the way Sana’s eyes silently communicated with you from across the table,

Something so subtle, a silent plea across a shared dimension,

That she needed help.

“Hey…” you speak up softly, standing in front of the fridge. 

Gojo glances over his shoulder at you from the other side of the kitchen island, barely illuminated by the moonlight through the windows. He turns to face you. “What’s up?”

You blink at him. 

“Um, I really don’t want to overstep again, but—”

There’s a sobering thought that flashes through your mind when you recall that you have never seen yourself as the hero in anyone’s story.

Simply because you could never, ever, ever trust yourself.

You could never trust your feelings or your decisions.

Because you cosigned on hundreds of thousands of dollars of medical loans. Because you stuck around for five years with a man that didn’t love you anymore. Because you still feel naive enough to believe that your best friend who betrayed you still misses you somehow. Because you still foolishly believe your mother will be around to hold her grandchildren someday.

Because you thought that your best bet in order to pull yourself out of hell was to fake marry a man,

And then act as if it’s all real when his aunt looks you in the eye with bittersweet tears as you now wear her bereaved sister’s ring in honor, entirely unaware it was actually being worn in vain.

How could you ever trust your judgement when you behave this way? 

Never the hero. If anything, the villain.

“What is it?” Gojo repeats when he sees that you’ve been silent for too long. He tilts his head at you, his hair falling over his forehead haphazardly and he runs a hand through it to try to get it out of his face. Even in the dim light, his eyes shine a breathtaking blue.

You swallow hard.

“Um,” you say, and then glance down at the wetness you find at your heel. “The, um, the fridge is leaking again.”

He blinks at you for a solid ten seconds, and then the tension in his shoulders drops when he sulks and closes his eyes with exhaustion and defeat.

“Fuck. Okay.”

.

.

.

[end of chapter 5]

a/n. looool i really keep thinking i can post shorter chapters and them bam they be 10k+ words. but i swearrr it's just cuz i be yapping :(( anywho hope you enjoyed this chapter!! a lot of characters were kinda introduced and mm given a bit more depth in this chapter. sorry there wasn't as much romance or anything in this one though haha there will be more in the next one :0 big big thank you to my lovely ihm beta readers ayelin, jules, leni & mirl for helping me out w this chapter!! i believe i may have mentioned this before but i STRUGGLLEEEE with multi-character scenes (i'm much more comfy writing scenes that just have back n forth between two characters) so this chapter was challenginggg esp the whole dinner sequences and there were also a lot of complicated feelings at play, descriptions, stuff i wasn't sure if it was coming off the right way (and tbh am still not sure haha) but they really helped me work my thoughts out n gave wonderful suggestions too so tysm :'') much loveee!! hope to see you all in the next one <3 - ellie

➸ you're all caught up!

🏷️: @joemama-2 @sashisuslover @satorugirlie @slut-4-gojo @pickuptruck01

@gojodickbig @ayelindraws @ducky1232 @suguruslovedoll @bloopsstuff

@electrckchild @thegreatandlvable @anujah9 @lavender-hvze @cactisjuice

@crematedstar @yoongiboonhi @sxnkuna @allebazy @um-no-ok

@tofumiao @strawberrygirl0 @chiyokoemilia @xd3pr3ss3dx @ackermendick

@blueberry19000 @toffeebrat @mtsyik @sleepydumbassworld @4y3sh4

@crustykuki @celestialforce @mrswanggae @coolwitchtree @samistars

@imasexy-buffalo @erencvlt @satorubluu @fangirlingtod3ath @readerg77

@fiftyfeetstrawberryparfait @thegreatandlvable @ssetsuka @sexys-archives @astrokenny

@crustykuki @kristinering-actress @jaegersity @bbyxxm @zelzablues

note. i'd recommend subscribing to the fic on my ao3 so you can get email notifs :) tumblr taglist is based on interacts; please do not ask me/pressure me for updates or ask me when i am going to next update (read rules)

taglist is closed

[covenofagatha]

hey!! can you do one where you run into professor agatha at the library while doing homework and it ends with her making you sit on her cock without moving while you study and you're impatient and she ends up fucking you right there in thar secluded corner (with lots of overstimulation and daddy kink if you're comfortable with that?)

Inspiration struck for this one today so hope everyone enjoys

I just started a new semester so probably won't be posting as much but I will do my best to keep writing and putting stuff out regularly. Also will be pausing any Agathario x reader fics for the moment

Learning to focus

When you run into Professor Harkness at the local library while you're supposed to be working on a project for her history class, you find yourself distracted by her (again)

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: public sex, GP Agatha, fingering, cockwarming, daddy kink, overstimulation, it really was agatha all along, slight humiliation?, hints of degradation

The Westview University campus library is always packed, so you usually opt for the local library about twenty minutes away from the school. 

Much quieter and way less crowded. 

And you don’t have to worry about running into any failed situationships or crazy roommates from past years. 

Plus it’s a really nice library, two stories with long glass windows stretching from the ceiling to the floor. Even when you don’t have school work, you often enjoy coming here just to read or play on your computer. It’s a peaceful place, a place that lets you just relax and forget about the outside world and all the stress you feel. 

Stress mainly from one class. Your history class. 

Professor Agatha Harkness was the only one who taught U.S. History when your schedule could allow it, which meant you had to ignore all the bad reviews on RateMyProfessor.com, because you had no other option. 

On the first day, you could see exactly where they came from. 

One boy had shown up five minutes late, practically a miracle on the first day of classes, stammering an excuse about how bad traffic was, Professor Harkness had fixed him with a glare and told him that he better drop the class. 

You were just thankful that you had a class before hers, otherwise you would’ve been late, too. 

She was just as mean and ruthless and cold as everyone said she’d be. Her assignments were almost outrageous and she graded them so harshly it was honestly impressive you weren’t failing yet. 

But the one thing the reviews forgot to mention was how attractive she is. Her long, dark hair that she’d often keep back in a ponytail. Her sharp blue eyes that reminded you of the ocean on a dark night. Her high cheekbones, her pointed nose, her wicked smirk, honestly, everything about her. 

You suppose the more impressive thing is that you aren’t failing with how often you get distracted by the way her fingers on her left hand tighten around the dry-erase marker when she’s drawing time-lines on the board. When she sways her hips and flexes her knuckles which tightens her veins, you feel a tugging in your gut and you have to bite your lip. 

And you definitely should not be noticing the bulge in her pants when she sits back with her legs spread in her chair while the class is taking an exam. 

You have an optimal seat, all the way to the right of her desk and in the front row, so you can take her in without her noticing you too much. 

If anyone looked too closely at you, they’d assume you were sweating because of the forty-five multiple choice and five written questions you had to answer in only a little over an hour. 

That wasn’t it. 

You swore she saw you looking one time, one particular day when she was wearing a blue flannel and loose fitting cargo pants. You were staring, so completely distracted when you should’ve been taking notes that you didn’t even notice she had dismissed the class. 

It wasn’t until you finally realized that she was stalking toward you that you had fucked up. You had swallowed roughly and moved to shove your stuff into your bag when she had put her hands on your desk and leaned in, causing you to completely forget how to breathe. 

“You seemed a little preoccupied there,” she murmured in a low voice, her hint of cologne tickling your nose. “Try to pay better attention next time. Don’t want to have to teach you a lesson.”

You had promptly nodded and almost ran to your dorm to fuck yourself to the thought of her teaching you a very different kind of lesson. 

Professor Harkness is in your head, and you can’t get her out no matter how hard you try. Except right now, you really need to focus, because the end-of-semester project is due in a week and you haven’t started. 

Did she give you the entire four months of the course to complete it? Yes. But you have never been good at working ahead or at time management. 

She had assigned a ten page paper along with a hand-drawn timeline about something that had happened in the history of the United States. You had picked the Salem Witch Trials, and Professor Harkness had winked when you got the topic approved by her. 

So you’re about to spend the next probably five hours in the library trying to make some headway on this project. The timeline should be easy, but it’s the paper you’re worried about. 

You go up the stairs and wind through the aisles of books on the second floor until you get to your secluded corner, the one you always go to, the one with a small table and two chairs hidden by bookshelves and gasp. 

Your favorite spot has been taken by none other than Professor Harkness. She’s sitting in the chair you usually sit in, pen between her teeth, staring at papers. 

When she looks up, she doesn’t even seem surprised to see you and a slow grin spreads over her face. 

“Professor, what are you doing here?” You ask, fiddling with the straps on your tote bag. Should you go somewhere else?

She chuckles. “In a public library in the town where I live?” 

Your cheeks burn. “Right. Um, I’ve just never seen you here before.” And then you inwardly kick yourself because now it sounds like you’ve been on the lookout. 

“Wanted to get out of the house,” she shrugs. “Have some papers to grade for that project due next week. How’s yours coming?” 

“Oh, really good,” you lie, shifting your weight and trying to think of a quick way to get out of this conversation. “Almost done. Well, I don’t want to bother–” 

She interrupts you by sliding the chair out next to her and patting it. “Why don’t you come show me what you have? I can give you some help, free of charge.” She winks, a glint in her eyes, and it makes your stomach twist. 

“Oh, Professor, that’s not necessary,” you say nervously but she tsks and waves dismissively. 

“Please, call me Agatha. It’s the weekend and we’re off campus. Now, come sit.” She makes it clear it’s an order and you gulp before taking the seat. Even being this close to her is affecting your body and you know there’s absolutely no way you’re getting anything done. 

She’s currently grading a paper about the Boston Massacre and it’s drenched in red ink. You’re not sure which you feel more of: annoyance at your over-achieving classmates or absolute dread for how Agatha is going to react when she finds out that you haven’t even started and, even worse, lied about it. 

You take a shaky breath, feeling her intense gaze on you. “So, the thing is…” You trail off, reaching down to pull out your laptop. You set it on the table and slowly open it, silently begging for the floor underneath you to open up and swallow you whole. 

Anything would be better than this humiliation. 

“Yeah?” Agatha breathes, suddenly much closer to you. You will your eyes to not look away from the computer screen and type in your password, praying that you didn’t leave anything that embarrassing up. 

It opens up to the blank document titled Salem Witch Trials, just so it’s clear to Agatha what exactly this page was supposed to be. 

You’d rather it have been porn. 

Your professor chuckles slowly next to you. “Thought you were almost done?” She simpers in that gruff voice that drives you wild. “Did you get distracted again?” 

Agatha leans forwards, resting her elbow on the table, and perching her head in her hand so she can peer at you. Your eyes glance over to meet hers and then back to your computer, but in your peripheral vision, you can see her body tilt toward yours and her legs open just the slightest. 

Your mouth runs dry and you make a pointed effort not to look between them. 

“What’s gotten you so preoccupied, babygirl?” She asks and you clench around nothing at the shift in tone and the pet name. Holy fuck. “I’ve seen you staring in class, you know. You’re not very subtle at all.” 

Forget being swallowed by the floor, you might just combust out of pure embarrassment. 

You try to stammer out something, an apology maybe, sorry for wanting to fuck you, Professor, but no sounds come out of your mouth. Her other hand comes up and teases a lock of your hair and you finally work up the courage to look at her. 

Agatha’s eyes are heated and dark, all the blue practically gone, and her lips are parted just so. And then you flick your eyes down to between her legs involuntarily and you have to bite back a whimper because she’s fucking hard. 

You can see her length through her navy pants and your brain short-circuits. Agatha likes this. Agatha likes you. 

“Is that what gets you all hot and bothered? Can’t focus because you’re too busy staring at me?” Agatha asks, hand dropping to palm herself. She gives her dick a quick stroke and lets out a tight sigh and you have to hold onto the table to steady yourself. 

Heat rushes through your body in an almost unbearable way. “Yes,” you whisper hoarsely. 

Agatha takes her hand off herself and taps a finger to her lips. “Hmm,” she draws out thoughtfully. You can feel a puddle growing in your underwear. “You know, I’m used to the crushes. Doesn’t even phase me anymore, usually it’s college girls who are just so desperate for attention. Not getting it anywhere else and they think that their fifty year old professor will be into them.” 

Your jaw clenches. Is this the part where she rejects you? 

But Agatha smirks and looks you up and down, takes in your squirming body in the chair. “And I never have even considered it. Until you. None of them have been as delicious as you, pet.” 

And it makes your head spin. It’s almost as if you’re in a trance when your hand grabs onto her thigh and Agatha lets out a low moan. 

“Please,” you say, desperation in your voice. What are you asking for? You don’t even think you know. 

Agatha tuts. “Do you really think you deserve anything? This paper is due in a week and you haven’t even started. Doesn’t seem like you should get a reward for procrastinating, does it?” 

“It’s not my fault,” you whine before you can even think about it. There’s something about this side of Agatha specifically that makes your mind turn to mush. 

She raises an eyebrow like she’s daring you to say that again. “I think you need to learn how to keep that pretty head of yours focused.” She nods to the computer screen. “Make an outline.”

You swallow roughly and straighten up, putting your hands on the keyboard. You’ve just switched tabs and begun googling “Salem Witch Trials” when Agatha’s hand lands on your upper thigh. 

You freeze and glance at her out of the corner of your eye to find her scribbling another note on the paper in front of her. You don’t know how she’s so calm and collected when you feel like your entire body is on fire. 

“Focus,” she tells you in that deep voice of hers and you click on the first result that comes up as her fingers begin to toy with the hem of your skirt. 

You try, you really do try, but it’s so fucking hard to read the words on the screen when she’s inching closer and closer to your underwear, which you can feel is absolutely drenched. 

And soon enough, she’s going to feel it, too. You can almost hear her dark laugh already when she realizes just how affected you are. 

Her fingertips brush against you and instead of laughing, she gasps. “Oh, pet, no wonder you never pay attention in class,” she coos and a thrill runs through you despite how embarrassed you are. She effortlessly finds your clit through the fabric and rubs it and you have to sink your teeth into your bottom lip so you don’t make a sound. 

“Agatha,” you say under your breath and you can practically hear her smirking. Why is it so hot that she is still grading the paper as she starts to run her fingers up and down your pussy over your underwear? She dips in at your entrance and a muffled groan tears itself out of your mouth. 

“Is this what you’re like while I’m teaching, too?” She muses conversationally, but you look down just in time to see her cock twitch in her pants. It makes you feel even more exhilarated, knowing she’s just as affected. But then she moves your panties to the side and slides her fingers through your folds and you forget any train of thought you had. You really hope your wetness isn’t as loud as it sounds. “Dripping for me like a little slut? Getting yourself all worked up when I’m talking about the Declaration of Independence? It’s pathetic.” 

You whimper, maybe in agreement, maybe at how good it feels when she pushes a finger into you, but her eyes slightly glaze over at the feeling of your warm walls around her. 

“God, Agatha,” you moan, your own hand coming down to wrap around her wrist when she starts moving. You can feel her flexing with each thrust and your tongue presses against your cheek as you breathe heavily, leaning toward her. 

She presses a quick kiss to your head and scrapes her teeth against your ear before hotly whispering, “Better be quiet, babygirl. And focus. Or I’ll stop.”

You manage to type out three bullet points worth of information when she slips another finger into you and you clamp a hand over your mouth before you moan obscenely. 

Agatha leans over to read what you have so far. “Who was the first woman to be executed for witchcraft?” She asks and you realize that you never finished that sentence. 

“Bridget Bishop,” you gasp, and she swipes at your clit as a reward, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. 

You continue to type, hoping it’s making sense because you can’t even comprehend the words, while Agatha continues to twist her fingers inside you roughly and rub your clit. You can feel your orgasm slowly building, and it only makes it worse every time Agatha hums right into your ear at something you’ve written. Your walls are clenching around her, trying to draw her even further into you, and she can tell you’re getting close, you’re going to cum so quickly around her fingers. 

“There we go pet, such a good girl for Daddy,” she says into your ear and you spasm all around her, the name sending you right over the edge. 

Who knew you’d like that so much? 

Apparently Agatha did, who grins like a cat getting her cream as she fucks you through your orgasm with her fingers, keeping a steady rhythm on your clit. You taste blood from biting your lip so hard but you manage to keep quiet and you finally come down from your high. 

But it’s not enough, you need more, and judging by the straining of Agatha’s cock against her pants, she needs more, too. 

You move to touch her but she slaps your hand away. “Not yet,” she growls and it sends another blast of heat through you. You think there might be a wet spot on the chair underneath you. 

It only makes it worse when she reaches down and undoes her own belt, fiddles with the button exasperatedly, and finally unzips her pants. She reaches inside and your jaw drops open when she pulls out her hard and leaking cock. It’s big, big enough to make your mouth water, and it almost looks painful. Agatha gives herself a few strokes, hips jumping, and she hisses when she rubs her thumb over the tip. 

“Think you can focus while you sit on Daddy’s cock, babygirl?” She taunts. You’ve never felt so empty in your life, you need her so bad, and she’s right there. 

You almost want to bend down and take her into your mouth, taste her hard cock. 

“I asked you a question,” she reminds you roughly, slapping your thigh to get your attention. The sting makes you jump. “God, you really do get distracted easily.” 

You mumble an apology, cheeks flushing. “I can focus, I promise,” you say, trying to sound convincing, but neither of you believe it. Regardless, she smirks and pats her legs and you do a cautious sweep of the surrounding area. This is incredibly dangerous and if you get caught, you both will get in serious trouble. 

But for some reason, the thrill of getting caught only turns you on more. 

So you stand up and straddle her and sit down, taking her cock in one fell swoop. She goes in easy with how wet you are and you bottom out in her lap, the both of you groaning quietly with restraint. 

“Fuck, babygirl,” you hear Agatha huff and you squeeze your walls around her in response. It makes her thrust up and you inhale sharply at the feeling. She is so big and you can feel her throbbing inside you. “Better keep working.” 

You lean forward slowly to move your laptop closer, the stretch absolutely delicious and she chuckles when you gasp as you settle back onto her. Agatha wraps her arms around your waist and you really do try to be good and focus, but every so often, she shifts beneath you and it hits that spot so deep inside you and you can’t help but squirm to try and get more. 

Would she notice if you slowly start moving? Most likely, but it’s worth the risk. You give the gentlest roll of your hips and Agatha moans low into your ear before her fingernails dig into your hips through your skirt to still you. “Don’t even think about it,” she whispers dangerously so you’re forced to sit without moving on her cock that is filling you up better than anything ever has before. 

It’s sweet torture and you write a few more sentences before you can feel your wetness dripping down her cock and out of you. Every so often, you’ll clench around her, too, completely involuntarily, of course, and she’ll buck into you like she can’t help it while breathing suddenly. You’re not sure how much longer of this you can take, the ache spreading everywhere in your body and absolutely ruining you. 

“Agatha,” you whine again, begging, starting to move despite her death-like grip on your waist. 

She moves your hair to the side and nips at your neck. “Yes, babygirl?” 

“Can you please–” you begin, frustration leaking into your voice, tears pricking in your eyes. “Can you please move? Please, I need it so bad. I’m trying so hard to focus, please, can you fuck me? Daddy–”

Turns out, all you needed to convince her was to call her that, because she finally breaks and starts thrusting her hips up and pounding her cock into you. Your hand flies over your mouth and you bite onto a finger to stop yourself from crying out and you wish you weren’t in a library right now, rather be in the comfort of Agatha’s bed or car or office or anywhere but here, so you could be as loud as you want. 

“Let’s see if you’re still distracted after Daddy fucks all the thoughts out of your head,” she snaps and fuck, you’re already so close after cockwarming her for those few minutes. She reaches around you with a hand to circle your clit, which is already sensitive from your previous orgasm and a muffled sound escapes you. Agatha laughs breathlessly and you strain your ears to hear if anyone is coming near you – not that you could do anything about it now – but there’s nothing. 

Thank god this is a relatively empty library, especially at this time of the day, and that the two of you are tucked away in the back where it’s hard to see normally. 

Agatha’s thrusts are getting so powerful that you’re forced to put your hands out on the table for balance which means it gets a lot harder to control your noises. But your professor, ever the problem-solver, comes up with a solution. 

She slides two fingers into your mouth so you can suck on them and so your moans are stifled. Agatha presses her fingers against your tongue, scrapes her nails against it, and draws them out before shoving them back in, effectively fucking both your mouth and your pussy. 

“You feel so good, babygirl, so fucking tight,” she pants into your ear and you gag when she pushes her fingers down your throat. 

It’s so much, so much stimulation from her cock and her fingers and the fact that you’re being fucked in a public library where anyone could see that your orgasm hits you out of nowhere and it’s explosive. You sink your teeth into her skin and she moans, almost being louder before she remembers to control herself. 

You need a moment to collect yourself, but she doesn’t give it to you; instead, she shoves you off her lap and stands up right behind you without her cock ever leaving your body. 

Agatha bends you over the table, hand pressing against your back, and you have just enough awareness to move your laptop out of the way before she sets a bruising pace. The table must be bolted down to the floor or something, because it thankfully doesn’t move. 

Agatha grunts softly with each thrust and you can feel her twitching inside you even though it feels like every single one of your nerves is on fire. 

“Daddy, I don’t know if I can again,” you quietly sob, the pleasure fraying your mind, the sensitivity of your clit making you gasp when she rubs it. You feel like you’re drifting away from your body, dizziness swarming your head. “Too much,” you babble. 

But she doesn’t slow down. If anything, she picks up her speed and tears fall from your eyes. “You can, babygirl, I know you can. You can take it – fuck, you feel so good around me.” 

Agatha losing her composure because of you, just knowing you have that kind of affect on someone usually so cold and unaffected, is starting to build your orgasm back up. 

“Daddy,” you whine, trying to be as quiet as you can. Her rhythm is starting to falter, she’s throbbing and twitching and cursing, fingers scrambling for purchase on your hips, and you know she’s getting close. 

“So perfect, babygirl,” she mutters and you know she’s refraining from being louder, too. “I’ve wanted you for so long, ever since the first day when you walked into my classroom wearing that short skirt.” 

The confession makes you clench and a gasp escapes your lips. You’re climbing closer and closer to the edge and Agatha isn’t far behind. 

“Knew I had to have you,” she keeps going and your body is practically vibrating. 

She’s pounding into you so deep, filling you so good, her cock dragging against your walls in the best way. Her ragged words are getting to her, too; you can tell in the way her thrusts become shallower and shorter like she can’t do anything more. 

You’d make a quip about her being distracted but you can’t form a sentence right now. Every thought in your head is gone. 

“Daddy knows you come here,” she continues and your eyes roll back into your head. You don’t even think you can understand her. You’re close, so close. “Knew you hadn’t started on the project. Knew you’d be here – fuck, babygirl.” She breaks off with a sharp inhale as you squeeze around her at her words. 

This whole thing was planned. She’s wanted you just as badly as you’ve wanted her. And now she’s fucking you against a table in a library because of it. 

She reaches around and rubs your clit and that’s it. 

You cum all over her cock, walls convulsing around her, and she quickly follows, pumping her cum into you. You feel her warmth spreading through you and it makes you gasp. 

Thankfully she pulls out because you truly can’t take anymore and she slides your underwear back into place before her cum can drip down your legs. She turns you around after zipping her pants back up and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“You okay?” She murmurs and you weakly nod. “Is that pretty head of yours clear now? Think you can focus?” 

The question makes you laugh. There are no thoughts left in your head whatsoever. “You do know that I’m only going to be thinking about this in your classes right? You just made the problem ten times worse.” 

Agatha smirks and taps under your chin. “Tell you what, pet. For each day early you turn this project in, that’s one more reward you’ll get.” 

And even though you’re completely worn out, your clit pulses at the thought of more. 

“Think you’ll be able to focus now?” Agatha asks sweetly. You nod eagerly, your brain suddenly able to piece together how you’re going to structure your paragraphs, and she chuckles. “It’s all about finding the right motivation. I look forward to seeing your final project.” She winks, packs up her stuff, and then walks away. 

You sit down in the chair, making a mental note to clean that and the table before you leave, and open your laptop back up. 

Cracking your knuckles, you get to work, suddenly able to focus so much better now. 

[dmitriene]

Maybe Konig x virgin/inexperienced reader, pretty please with a cherry on top 🍒?

i hope you would enjoy the writing!

cw: virginity, inexperience, my own view of things.

könig has a thing or two for some pretty, unexperienced dolls, drawn by the allure of being the one to guide and take apart inch by delicate inch, yet he's not the one to be particularly lucky in dating with women at all, the sweet, virgin one's usually find him too persistent, and experienced women brush him and his playful cockiness away with light annoyance, until he's meet with you.

oh, you're a perfect blend of everything he dreamed about all his miserable life, thrown from one girl to another, until he stops by you, meek, easy thing, and even through you know what you want and truly desire, walking around this uncharted intimacy on tiptoes, könig still manages to get his fill of brushing, groping touches and innocent, bit hungry kisses.

könig can be too much, getting a boner so easily from a single permission of giving your sensitive neck a couple of smooches, his patchy stubble and jagged scars brushing occasionally and making you shiver at the contact, melting into the solid warmth of his body pressed so close, and his lips growing carnivorous by each kiss, and that's where you have to push him behind the line, again, leaving him whiny and coyly puppy eyed.

always whispering “'m sorry, schatz, i'll be patient” but ending up with his calloused, wide palm too close to the squishy swell of your plump ass, scarred fingers itching at the small of your back, fighting off his excitement, swallowing all of his guttural groans when he get's you on his muscular lap, breathless and fidgeting over the tense thighs beneath you, with your words hitching just from such close proximity.

you're pent up too, all the toys and fingers is never enough in comparison to possible lover's warmth and saccharine words, the praises and honeyed pet names brushing over the hectic burn of your ears, it's so easy to crumple, let könig hold you close and persuade with careful, gentle strokes and caring whispers to give him a chance, give over the pleasure you so deeply crave.

könig nuzzles his nose in your temple as you pant and hiccup, hands looped tight around his tilted neck, tugging at his messy hair, hiding away from the enraptured gaze of his wide opened, piercing eyes as those rugged, thick fingers scissored at your tight, gushy cunt, you couldn't do anything to stop this embarrassing, steady rush of slick out your gaping hole, pulsing violently and not letting his digits thrust in properly, so needy, hot, gummy walls clenching around.

you need to be completely boneless and hazy minded before getting his cock, and even then, with your eyes glassy and so dumbfounded, not knowing what you should do, your head too empty for your liking, you still scrabble up from the tense plains of his softened stomach and up the brawny chest with sharp nails, body shivering and arching from both fear and pleasure, his meaty, leaking cock breaching inside your sweet pussy, cradling your body attentively closer.

könig kisses up your trembling fingers that try to dig in his skin, spanning the fingers from his left hand around, other busy supporting you from against your backside, nails biting at the plushness of your asscheeks, helping you to bounce, find the pleasurable rhythm that makes your cunt drip and throb, squelching so obscenely, coating his veiny, engorged shaft in gleaming sheen, lips parting to squeak and gasp his name out.

you don't need to fear, it's finds out, the heaviness of his cock inside you leaves your toes spasming, chest skittering with every breath and thrust, expanding around a wet moan and searing tingles at the bottom of your spine, it's all so dreamy, the way he handles you, praising endlessly, his hand distracted to pet down your mound, thumbing occasionally over your peeking nub, twitchy and overly sensitive to the touch, and so, könig get's you cumming for him.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[cybrasigilism]

I WANT SOME SMUT DRABBLE WITH DAE-HO OR JUN-HO. LIKE, YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDD 😭😭 .

omg THANK YOU! it warms my heart with how sweet you guys are about my writing :)

and i’ll do you one better, i’ll write a bit for BOAF of em, because i fear i can’t get over either of them. they’ll be seperate drabbles of course but trust they will both have their time in the sun on my blog ;)

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Smut Drabbles (Kang Dae-ho/Hwang Jun-ho)

warning: smut and all things of the like, crazy business i know | not proofread | lowercase intended | implied f! reader | protection not implied (wrap it before you tap it folks) | oral sex (f! receiving/m! receiving) | losing your v-card | fingering | praise kink | these are my opinions for these characters, please be respectful even if my opinions for the characters differ from yours

characters: kang dae-ho (player 388), hwang jun-ho

A/N: wanted to do both in the same post because why should i make anyone wait for a part 2? i hate two parters myself esp if it’s something like a drabble, that can all be in one part. thanks for the request and i hope you enjoy!

MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, readers discretion is advised

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

kang dae-ho/player 388

now it’s old news at this point to say that dae-ho is the absolute king of gentle sex, but that statement really does hold true. he’s not satisfied if you didn’t cum at least twice, he will not quit until he’s sure you’re completely finished.

his absolute favourite thing to do besides being inside you is having you sit on his face. in fact, he says he could cum from the facesitting alone, having you ride his tongue while he gives you pleasure in the likes of which you haven’t experienced before. if he gets a bit carried away, he’ll dig his nails into your thighs while he tongue fucks your pussy. you may get worried about suffocating him, but he insists that the adrenaline rush that comes with it all really gets him going.

trust when you give him head, the gentle side really comes through. he’ll make sure to praise you up and down about how good you’re doing, how good you’re making him feel, and how much he really doesn’t want you to stop. now, if you really want to have him melt in your hands, you can’t go wrong with edging him. just bringing him right up to the brink of release, having him grab your head for some sense of stability, only for you to stop. he’ll moan and whimper and beg like you’ve never heard somebody beg before. don’t let this fool you though, he’s totally into edging, it makes the release feel that much better. “please god honey, just let me cum… i promise i’ll be a good boy, i just wanna cum already, fuck”

he tries his best not to swear in bed, he personally just doesn’t think it’s necessary. however when he’s completely immersed in the pleasure, when you take over all his senses and thoughts like that, he doesn’t really give a shit anymore.

when you guys fuck, he’s for sure gonna maintain a slow and gentle pace. he knows he’s bigger, so while yes, he does like to bottom out inside you, he’ll give you ample time to adjust to his size at first. all the while, praising you on how good you’re being for him “yeah, taking my whole cock like that.. you’re doing such a good job” “it’s okay baby, i got you.. i got you”

one thing you can do to absolutely drive him crazy? claw up his back while he fucks you, god does he ever get vocal when you do that. he’s a bit embarrassed of his moans, he’s worried it comes off as obnoxious, but he’s more than happy to let loose especially when he realizes how it makes you clench around his dick when he does so.

he does lose control of his pace a bit when he gets closer to cumming, and trust he will kiss you lots throughout the whole experience. you guys might also break the headboard but that’s a different can of worms

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

hwang jun-ho/the police officer

anyone who tries to tell you that jun-ho wouldn’t make your first time all about you is lying to you, i’m so sorry you had to find out this way.

he would much rather focus on making you feel good, especially if you’ve established that you’re a virgin beforehand. and honestly, after he’s through with you, you’re not sure if you could even think about fucking anyone else.

there may not be penetration the first time, but he will do everything in his power to make you cum. that may be a tall order for the average guy, but seeing as he couldn’t give two shits about his own pleasure this time around, jun-ho wouldn’t have much trouble with achieving this goal. if you wanted to please him in any way, he would insist you let him do all the work. it’s not that he doubts you could please him, but he’s already had his first time, he’s more than happy to finger you or eat you out without receiving anything in return. “right now, it’s all about you sweetheart. i just want you to feel good, can you do that for me?”

oh don’t even get me started on how skilled he is with his fingers. he’ll be knuckles-deep inside you in no time at all, circling your clit with his thumb at the same time. trust he will also be kissing your neck while he’s fingering you, again just doing everything in his power to make you feel as good as humanly possible.

he’ll be praising you the whole time, complimenting you for being “such a good girl” when you take his fingers. and his tongue? god. this man could tie a knot in a cherry stem with his tongue, and that definitely goes to show when he eats you out. he will be fingering you while he sucks your clit and that’s a promise, and he will not cease until you’re shaking, barely able to form a single thought anymore.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

i really want to do a NSFW alphabet for jun-ho now that i’ve written this! as usual any advice and constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing is appreciated and requested! i really hope i did jun-ho justice in particular because this is my first time writing for him :)

thanks so much for reading! and thank you anon for the request!

[g4rvez-r3id]

I’m Here, Now

Post Prison! Spencer Reid x Girlfriend!Fem Reader

Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Spencer gets released from prison and you’re his first stop after dealing with Cat Adams and her schemes. And all he wants to do is see you and love you.

Category: Smut, Fluff

Warnings: 18+ MDNI established relationship, prison arc, spoilers of season 12 of Criminal Minds, it’s a lil sad tbh but it only lasts for a second, reader’s in disbelief, spencer and reader being cutesy, crying, kissing, mentions of bruises, threats, sappy speeches, fluffy ending, lowkey not true to 12x22/13x01 so this could be an au! smut warnings: soft!dom spencer (firm believer here🙋‍♀️), a lil body worship from reader to spencer, oral sex (m receiving & reader receiving), facefucking, cum swallowing, “good girl”, riding, unprotected sex, mentions of masturbation, creampie, overstimulation, spencer lowkey being a munch- that should cover it 😃

Author’s Note: hey lovelies, i can’t stop writing smutty oneshots ahhhh i can’t help it, i just love my man 🤭 i hope y’all enjoy this because i’ve had my mind on prison arc reid bc i’m watching s12 rn and oooo he so fine in 12a and in 12b 😩 anyways hope y’all like this <3

You worried that maybe he’d never come back. Upon hearing he was in jail in Mexico, you worried you’d never see Spencer again.

If your past self could tell you that your boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid, who was a nerd at heart, who spent his free time playing chess and reading and watching Doctor Who with you under your fluffy blankets and wore mismatched socks because he believed it was good luck, that he would one day end up being framed and sent to prison, you would’ve laughed in your face.

You never would’ve expected this to happen. But then you heard why. He was framed for murdering a woman named Nadie Ramos, who was helping him get his mother medicine that seemed to calm her from her episodes. If there was anyone he would’ve risked everything for besides you, it was his mother.

And to be honest, you were a little mad at him for lying to you. He told you that he was going to Houston to talk to some of his mom’s doctors. You’d been together four years now and not once did he ever lie to you until now. When he got transferred to the Milburn Correctional Facility, due to overcrowding, he’d requested to see you and only you.

It wasn’t until Spencer wrote you a letter, practically begging you to come and see you. The first time you’d gone to see him, you actually didn’t even recognize him, skipping over him and almost staring at him in confusion when he walked over to the other side of your plexiglass.

And you tried to play it off like you expected him, even while looking like he did, but he knew deep down you didn’t recognize him. He chose not to acknowledge it but you both knew.

And you visited him frequently, until he decided to cut you from the visitor log with no warning. You were hurt, to say the least. And you ended up avoiding everyone after that. You even ignored the many fruit baskets Garcia kept sending over but you kept sending them back.

But then a miracle happened.

They proved his innocence. And he was out.

You would’ve found that out if you’d checked your phone but you spent the entire day in bed, away from society and sobbing at the fact that he was gone and he wasn’t here, comforting you like he did so well.

You hated him, you hated him for putting you in this position, for making you deal with the aftermath, for pushing you away. But you loved him. You would never stop loving him, no matter how much you hated him right now.

You’d been laying in bed, tossing and turning all day as the TV played some random sitcom you watched every now and again. And you’d heard something. A soft knock coming from your front door.

You almost missed it but it was faint. And you heard it. Choosing to finally get out of bed, you opened your room door and walked to the front door. You opened it without checking the peephole, because at this point you’d had enough and just wanted death to get you over with already.

But death may have stopped your heart only for a moment when you open the door.

Because standing there, in the suit he’d gotten arrested in when his bail was denied, his hair outgrown and his stubble framed nicely on his face — was your boyfriend, Spencer Reid, in the flesh.

You gasped softly as you backed away from the door and stared at him, almost as if you were disbelief. You’d had a dream like this before. Where he came back and promised he was here to stay. (But it was another one of God’s cruel jokes and you cried when you woke up the following day).

He walked in and closed the door right behind him, standing tall in front of you. You noticed the bruises on his face, how his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and stared at you.

“Hi.” He said softly and all you can do is stare at him. “Am I dreaming?” You find yourself asking out loud and his heart breaks. He can see that you’re scared. Scared that if you go up to him, he’ll disappear like smoke. And he hates that.

“No.” Spencer shakes his head and he waits for you to approach him and you do, walking slowly towards him as the floorboard creaks beneath your socked feet.

He waits as you first grab his hands, and interlock your fingers together. When that seems not to be enough for you, your hands move to his face. You caress the sharp new grown stubble on his face and drag your index finger to his plump lips and stare into his hazel eyes and they’re full of wonder and love.

You don’t even register the tears until you hold him in your arms and you hold onto him for dear life. He holds you tightly in his arms as you find yourself wrapping around him like a koala and all he can do is hold you back. And it grounds him, you ground him.

Your head moves towards his and you kiss his lips, like you’ve longed to do for three months. And part of you still couldn’t believe this, that he was here, holding you like you were going to break.

You kiss him a few more times before you pull back and ask with tears in your eyes, “Are you okay?” Spencer nods toward your forehead, “I’m okay, now that I’m here.”

“You’re here, now.” You look him in the eyes as you say this and he nods at your words, repeating them to himself. “I’m here, now.” It’s as if he’s reminding himself that he’s here with you because he’s worried he’s gonna wake up any minute and he’ll be back in that cell. You weren’t the only one who had a hard time believing this was real.

Spencer’s lips catch yours and he pushes into the kiss and you get back on the ground, your hands (or mouth) not leaving him for a second and making their way up to his hair and pulling. You whine into his lips as he you pull him by his belt and walk backwards to your bedroom with him following you.

With your strength, you twirl the two of you around and straddle him as you continue to kiss him. You rock your hips into his growing bulge and he moans into your mouth and you smirk in the middle of the kiss.

You begin to unbutton his suit and successfully get his blazer off and now next is his dress shirt but he’s quick to grab your hands and you look at him with wide eyes.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You ask, willing to put a stop to this if he wasn’t ready. “Nothing, I just…” Spencer looks down as he lets go of your hands and seemingly now growing insecure all of a sudden.

He stands up from the bed and you look up at him as he holds his arms over his stomach. “I just… I got hurt pretty bad in there. You’re gonna see some bruises. I just don’t want you to freak out. He admits and your heart breaks, “You don’t have to take your shirt off. Or we can just stop entirely and—”

Spencer shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. You’re gonna see them eventually.” With that, he begins to unbutton his dress shirt and you give him all the time in the world to do so, not wanting to rush this at all.

When he takes off his dress shirt successfully, you finally see it. He has bruises everywhere on his ribs and some near his belly button and on his stomach. Some are still in the process of healing with yellow and gray hues and some are purple and mucus green.

“Oh, my love…” You whisper to yourself as you stand up and you turns him around and find more on his back and there’s just too many of them. You find yourself tearing up but you know you need to keep it together for him. Who could hurt your sweet boy? Was this why he didn’t want you to see him anymore while he was still in there? How long did this go on for?

It’s then that you register the bruise near his eye. You thought that it was due to the lack of sleep he’d been getting and assumed it was the bags under his eyes he so often got but it was a bruise. How did you miss that when he walked in?

He almost wants to hide himself, like a turtle under its’ shell and you look down at his body. “Baby…” You start but he shakes his head. “I’m so sorry.”

He looks at you as you guide him towards the bed and he lays back and you go back to straddling him, but this time, you’re careful as you hover over him.

You kiss his lips before making your way down to his neck and then to his body and it takes a second for him to register that you’re not just kissing his body, you’re kissing the bruises.

He feels himself getting choked up as you kiss every visible one and his heart swells for you. What did he did to deserve you?

You begin to unbuckle his belt but he rests his elbows on the bed and looks down at you. “You—You don’t have to…” He trails off but you quickly shake your head. “I know. But I want to. It’s your first night back. This is about you tonight, baby.”

Spencer doesn’t interfere, just stares as you unbuckle his belt and pull out his cock through the hole in his underwear and it springs into action, dripping pre-cum from the head. “Oh, my sweet boy. You must be so pent up.”

You kiss the tip of his dick and he shuts his eyes tightly as if he’s trying to hold back from already cumming. You lick up his shaft and fit his cock inside your mouth and he curses to himself as he grips your bedsheets as tight as he can.

You notice this, grabbing his hand and interlocking your fingers together, as if you’re telling him and giving him permission to touch you as you bob your head up and down.

He takes this opportunity to caress your face as you take him into your mouth. He ties your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he pushes deeper onto his cock and even lifts his hips to ensure that you’re taking all of him until you’re gagging.

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” Spencer tells you and you nod to the best of your ability until you begins to fuck your throat, using your mouth for his pent up pleasure. “Fuck… God, you’re so good at that. Letting me fuck your throat like the good girl you are.”

His words could make you cum on the spot without him even laying a finger on you. He rarely cursed in your domestic setting but he did it often when you two were in bed.

All you can do is take it as deep as it can go in your mouth. He whines into the ceiling as he says your name until you feel his hot cum dribble down your throat and your nose is buried into his crotch as he holds you there and makes you take all his cum into your mouth.

He pants as he releases your head from his cock and you swallow the rest of his cum. He looks at you with worried eyes, concerned that maybe he’d gone too far. “I’m sorry, baby. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He asks, like he didn’t just cum into your mouth and call you a “good girl”.

You shake your head at him with a small smile. “That was just about the hottest thing you’ve ever done.” (And everything he did was always hot). He blushes and crooks a smile.

“Are you willing to keep going?” You ask him and he nods with an immediate answer, “Absolutely.” He’d never let you go to bed without making you cum at least twice.

You climb on top of him with a smirk and look deeply into his eyes. They’re filled with lust, love and adoration for you and for you only. “You’re so beautiful.” You say to him in a whisper but Spencer chuckles a bit, “I should be saying that to you.”

You look down as your pussy catches the tip of his cock and you sink down into him carefully. He moans at the feeling and you gasp. He fits perfectly.

“God, I missed you. Missed this…” Spencer catches his breath. “Perfect pussy.” You chuckle and looks into his eyes as you rock back and forth. “It was so lonely without you, Spencer.” You whine. “I missed you so much.”

You lean down as you kiss him on the lips. “Did you…” He pauses, not wanting to be crude even while he was inside of you. “While I was away?” It took a second to figure out what he was talking about. And then you realized that he was asking if you’d masturbated while he was away.

“A few times,” You admitted shyly, despite suffocating him with your pussy. “I thought about you every time. It just wasn’t the same. Missed your body.”

Spencer smiles darkly, “Maybe I should punish you for that.” He says, half-joking. You lean forward as you smirk, “I’d like to see you try.”

And without a second thought, it was as if a switch flipped as Spencer was quick to flip your bodies over and he hovers over you, both hands on either side of your head, gripping the pillows. “You really wanna test that theory?”

You bite your lip and smirk once more as you pull him in for another kiss and he glides himself into you and you gasp at the feeling of his dick inside of your pussy. It’d been such a long time since you felt him like this, here, in your arms. God, you love him.

He rocks his hips, thrusting deeply into your body as leans his head in your shoulder, mumbling sweet obscenities and how good your pussy feels and how responsive you were. He dreamt of the day he’d have you like this. And since being in prison, he longed for it more.

He reached down in between your legs as he found your clit without even looking down and staring deeply into your eyes and your moans reverberate through the walls as keeps his eyes on you and you only.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I need to cum— where? Where?” He asks and you shut your eyes tightly as you shout, “Inside! Oh, god, inside!”

He pushes himself hard into you as you finally cum, your legs shaking as you moan his name into the ceiling and he collapses on your body, still sheathed inside of you.

You both lay there, panting and reveling in the feeling of each other. Eventually, Spencer does pull out of you and you feel as he lowers himself, eyeing your pussy up close and you look down at him sleepily. “Baby, you don’t have to. This was about you.” You assure.

“Nonsense,” Spencer tells. “I need to clean up my mess and even the score, might as well kill two birds with one stone.” He jokes, diving face first into your pussy and you whimper at the contact he makes, especially with the way his stubble is rubbing against your thighs, cleaning his own cum out of your pussy and relishing in the way you both taste.

His mouth captures your clit and he twists his tongue around the bud in that delicious way you love and he moans into your pussy. “We taste so good together, baby. Cum again on my tongue, this time.”

You tug at his messy hair as you hold his head to you pussy and you use him, rocking your hips into his mouth. You feel as your legs shake once more and you let go of his head for him to take a breather.

That breather lasts only a second before he dives back in and you whine at the contact. “Spence… baby, I’m sen—sensitive.”

“You can take one more, baby. I know you can. You can cum again.” Spencer says, his pupils are blown as he looks at you and he’s commanding you to cum again. “Just one more, baby.”

You nod at him and Spencer grabs your hands. “Here,” He interlocks your fingers with his and somehow, the pleasure is so much and yet not at all as makes you cum for a third time tonight. If he could spend forever eating your pussy, he would.

You close your eyes for a moment and when you finally open them, he’s right next to you and holding you. (He’d cleaned you up properly with a warm rag and left your favorite snack and water bottle on the desk next to your bed whenever you were ready to wake up). You remembered the loving words he whispered to you as you drifted off into a heavy slumber.

And you’ve finally woken up. You look up at him, still in awe of him being here. You take the chance to check the time. It’s already 5am and the sun is still shy away from rising but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters because you have your boyfriend right next to you, holding you for dear life and loving you the way you deserve to be loved.

You worry that he’s still up, but you figure that after all those months in prison, maybe he has trouble sleeping every now and again. You find yourself holding him tighter as you look down at the bruise near your head. You can’t believe he was hurt. How did he manage to survive in there? You’re still wondering why he’d taken you off the visitor’s log.

“Spencer?” You ask and he looks down at you, your voice surprising him. “Yeah?” You sit up and look at him, face to face, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Why did you take me off the visitor’s list?” You decide to ask.

He’s about to respond and you don’t want to hear another lie. You’d been through plenty of those already. “I mean, I didn’t even want to see you at first and then you begged me to and then all of a sudden, I wasn’t allowed to. I feel like I have the right to know.”

“No, no, you do,” Spencer knows that much. He hates the fact that he’s lied to you and has forced you to deal with this when all you deserved was the best from him. He sits up next to you he knows he’s gonna need to tell you, even though he doesn’t want to.

“The last time after you came to visit me,” Spencer started. “I got cornered in my cell. A lot of the guys there were asking about you. And they said that it’d be a shame if something happened to you when you came to visit again.” You look down as he talks about it. “And I didn’t want to risk that. And I wanted to tell you, really, I did.” He grabs your hand assuringly. “But I didn’t have any way to. And I didn’t want you to get hurt. I would’ve died if something happened to you and I didn’t do everything in my power to stop it. I’m sorry it went down like it did.”

You shake your head. And you finally understand. Because if the roles were reversed, you would’ve taken him off the visitor’s list, too. If it meant protecting him. “You were just trying to protect me, I understand.”

“I just…” Spencer looks at you, holding your face in his hands. “I love you, so much.” He looks deeply into your eyes. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He reveals and your eyes widen. “What?”

Spencer closes his eyes and holds his index finger up. “One second.” He stands up and grabs his blazer from off the floor and digs into one of the inside pockets and pulls out a red velvet box.

Your eyes widen as you cover your body with the sheet and he kneels down on one knee in his boxers and opens the velvet box to reveal a ring. “I didn’t want to do it like this but I’d rather do it now than wait for the right time to.” Your eyes glance down at the box for a mere second and then to the love of your life.

“I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You make my days better, hell, you’ve made my life better. And no matter what we’ve gone through, you’ve stayed by my side and you never ran. I love that you sing off-key, I love that your nose twitches when you get mad, I love that you like�� pineapple on pizza, oddly enough.” You chuckle at this. “I love everything about you. And I have no idea what I’ve done to deserve you. But… but true love, it fosters a connection that goes beyond the superficial. It's a bond that often involves understanding each other's core values, beliefs, and life goals. And you’ve made me believe in true love.“

You stare at him in disbelief as he continues, “Will you marry me?” You feel tears spring into your eyes as you nod vehemently, “Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!” You smile widely and he smiles at you, slipping the ring onto your ring finger as you continue to mutter a million yeses.

When you finally get the ring on, you pull him in for another kiss and he holds you to his heart’s content. It wasn’t the way he envisioned it going, but with you, you knew you didn’t want big and bold ways of him saying he loved you and wanted to marry you, you were content with something small and sweet because it was coming from him and that was the biggest gift of all. You were one for grand gestures, you liked it just the way it was. It was perfect. He was perfect. And you’d spend the rest of your life reminding him he was.

So, you laid back in your bed with your fiancé and talked and talked about sweet nothings until the sun came up. And all of the ache you felt the night before, the pain you endured was long gone and now replaced with something beautiful and sweet.

[producedbysohyun]

Cuddling

Squid game x reader hcs

Summary: How the people in squid games would cuddle you (separate)

Includes: Thanos, Se-mi, Dae-ho, Myung-gi, Jun-ho (non!squid game au)

Warnings: might be slightly suggestive at some points.

masterlist

a/n: I love writing these so much! I hope you guys enjoy them as much as I do!!

Thanos

Get ready to be crushed

Lays on-top of you

And does not let you get up for anything

“Let me get up for a second I-“

“No.”

While laying on-top of you he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck or chest

If you do end up getting up he whines until you lay back down

Type of Bf to use your butt or thighs as a pillow 😔✊

Randomly bites you

Has cute aggression 100%

Very deep sleeper

Moves so much in his sleep so if you guys fall asleep cuddling at least one of you is gonna be upside down when you wake up

Will give you pda anytime anywhere he does not care

I’m literally Dr. Seuss

Se-mi

Loves laying on your chest !!

Gives you neck kisses when she’s the big spoon 😏

Also a biter

Likes to have you on her lap

Touches your tummy while cuddling

you cannot stop her 😡

Clingiest Gf you can have !!

Takes every opportunity to hug you from behind and just stays like that for as long as possible

When you lay on her chest she likes to play with your hair

Another deep sleeper

Girl will not wake up for anything

If you are in bed with her you better be ready to never leave the bed again once she gets her hands on you

“Babe I need to get up”

“Five more minutessss”

Dae-ho

Most cuddly person ever

Big spoon !!

not so secretly likes being small spoon sometimes

Either rests his head on-top of yours or in your neck

If you guys fall asleep like that expect not to be getting up at all

Literally has a death grip on you

Lays his head on your thighs or chest pt.2

Will fall asleep immediately if you start playing with his hair 🙁

HATES sleeping without you

The lightest sleeper ever

If you softly shake him awake he will either have a dramatic mom reaction or he’ll just be confused asf

My babbyyyyyy

Myung-gi

Struggles to sleep if you aren’t next to him

Religiously the big spoon

He likes to put his hands up your shirt while cuddling and his excuse is

“My hands were cold 🙁”

“Damn right they are 😡”

Yaaaa we all know his real intentions ✊

Neck kisses pt.2 !!

Another one that uses your thighs as a pillow

Moves a lot in his sleep as well but stays holding you the whole time somehow

Loves you being on his lap pt.2

The type to rub your thighs while watching a movie or some sht😭😔🙁😭😡😔😔😡

I want him so bad

Gives you so much kisses !!

I need someone like him omg 😔

Jun-ho

Loves cuddling face to face if that makes sense 😭

Likes to hear about your day while just holding you

Listens intently and plays with your hair as you speak

He also enjoys when you lay on his chest

The weight of your body calms him down and he feels better knowing you’re safe in his arms

If he’s feeling extra vulnerable that day he’ll lay his head on your chest

Probably gets super exhausted after work sometimes so he just falls asleep the second he gets home

and when you join him in bed he immediately wraps his arms around you

Overall I don’t think he’d be to big on cuddling but he also wouldn’t mind

a/n: hii! I hope you guys enjoyed thissss! (If you’ve made requests it might take awhile for me to get to them I’ve been busy lately I hope you understand!)

[yunniverse]

Can’t Get Rid of You

౨ৎ PAIRING— university student!jeong yunho x university student!reader

౨ৎ GENRE— academic rivals to lovers, angst, fluff, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, fluff, yunho is rude at times, but so is reader

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 4.9k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— both you and yunho are chosen to attend the same conference, staying in a local hotel, only there’s only one room, and you both seemingly hate each other

౨ৎ A/N— it’s here!! i’m sorry it took so long for me to write, but i hope you all still enjoy it and it lives up to expectations!! thank you so much for your interest and lmk what you think <3

“Mind if I sit here?”

Looking up, you’re almost in disbelief at who you see.

“Wha-” you stutter, but he rolls his eyes, taking the seat anyway. “Excuse me-“

“Take it up with the flight attendant. This is my seat.” Yunho responds, a far too cheeky smirk on his face.

“And why do you have a seat right next to me?” you ask, frowning, as you move your stuff so he doesn’t kick it or sit on it.

“Because we’re from the same school and going to the same conference. I’m sure you know that the university paid for our tickets, unless you’re that dumb,” he responds, giving you a sideways look before putting in his AirPods.

“Are you going to the Tokyo conference?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Are you deaf or did you not hear when I just told you we’re going to the same conference?” Yunho replies, quirking an eyebrow at you.

“Wow, rude,” you roll your eyes, settling back into your seat, jamming your own earbuds in your ears, just as the plane starts to takeoff. This is going to be a long weekend.

Dragging your suitcase behind you, you begrudgingly follow Yunho into the fairly nice hotel the university had booked for you to stay in over the weekend. He leads the way to the front desk, where he gets the receptionist’s attention. “I have a booking from Seoul National University.”

She types on her keyboard, the keys clicking as she searches. “Names?”

“Jeong Yunho,” he responds, and, before you can say your own name, he adds. “And Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Are you both together?” the receptionist gestures to you and Yunho, making you glance at Yunho too.

“No,” you respond, shaking your head.

She frowns, “Are you both from the same university?”

“Yes…” Yunho replies hesitantly. “Is there an issue?”

“Seoul National University only booked one room,” the lady informs both of you, making your heart sink.

“Are you sure?” you ask, biting your lip.

“Positive. Would you still like to take the room or ask the university first?” she asks, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

“We’ll take it,” Yunho sighs, making you look at him in shock, as the receptionist nods and types on the keyboard before passing Yunho the room key card. With a nod to her, he starts to move again, clearly expecting you to follow.

“Yunho!” you hiss, rushing to follow him as he heads to the elevator. “I am not sharing a room with you all weekend.”

“Or…” he turns sharply to look at you as you almost collide with his chest at the abrupt stop. He bends down a little to be at your height. “You could grow up and realize that the school will take all weekend just to fix the room error and you’re going to have to get used to the idea of living with me for a weekend because it’s the best we’re going to do unless you want to pay for your own expensive room.”

Your mouth snaps shut at his reprimand, even though you really want to fight back. You know it would be fruitless anyway.

“Good. Now, I’m exhausted, so let’s go find the room, yeah?” he raises his eyebrows, expecting you to agree.

“Whatever,” you grumble, hating that he’s right. You bite your tongue to keep from making an additional comment about his character.

“Good girl.”

Your head snaps up, your mouth dropping open slightly, but he’s already walking off toward the elevator again. With a sharp glare at the back of his head, you yank your suitcase along with you as you follow him.

After he unlocks the room, the lock making a clicking sound as the room key works, he pushes the door open, dragging his suitcase with him as he enters the room.

“So let’s get this straight,” you start, pulling your suitcase into the room before sitting on the edge of the bed. “You got chosen to come to the same conference?”

“It’s not that deep,” Yunho responds, already setting up some of his stuff. “If you’d read the flier for the conference, you’d have known that up to four could have been chosen from our university.”

“I read the flier, but why’d you choose this one?” you respond, exasperated.

“Why’d you choose it?” he snaps, looking up at you from his spot crouched in front of his suitcase on the floor.

“Because it made the most sense for my major and I didn’t want to wait until fall to meet potential employers,” you reply confidently.

“I chose it for the same reason,” he retaliates, setting his phone down on the bedside table and plugging it into the wall charger he brought. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” you glare at him, squeezing the handle of your suitcase. “And you’re not even smart! You’re just naturally good.”

“Hit a nerve, did I?” Yunho chuckles before gesturing to your suitcase. “You better unpack soon or you’ll be awake all night. And you’re just jealous because I don’t have to work as hard as you to be good.”

“Whatever. And I’m getting to it,” you roll your eyes. “And besides, I’m leaving to get something to eat in a minute anyway.”

“So am I,” he replies making you sigh in annoyance. “Let’s just go together. It’ll be easier.”

“I don’t want to go with—”

“Does ramen work for you?” Yunho cuts you off, looking at his phone to see restaurants near the hotel.

“I just said that I—”

“Good!” he responds, his brown eyes meeting yours, daring you to argue further. “Be ready to leave in ten minutes.”

“Yunho!” you call after him as he enters the bathroom, closing the door in your face. With a frustrated huff, you sit back down on the bed, fully aware you’re being childish about the whole situation, but too invested in being annoyed to care.

Exactly ten minutes later, you’re sitting on the bed again, after having unpacked a little, scrolling on your phone.

Yunho exits the bathroom, looking fresher and having changed clothes.

“Did you shower in there?” you ask. “You know other people need the bathroom too.”

“I didn’t shower,” he rolls his eyes, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I just changed out of my airport clothes and washed my face.”

“Well you better be prepared to wait another ten minutes before leaving to get dinner because I need more time,” you retort, grabbing your own change of clothes and heading to the bathroom.

“Take your time then,” Yunho responds, plopping down onto the bed and grabbing his phone.

“Or you could just leave and I’ll get something myself,” you respond, a last ditch effort to get him to leave you alone.

“Nah, I’ll wait. I’m in no rush,” he replies, much to your dismay.

“Of course you aren’t,” you mumble under your breath as you close the bathroom door a little harder than necessary. Why’d Yunho have to be naturally smart enough to come to this conference? He doesn’t even try!

Roughly fifteen minutes later, you exit the bathroom, slipping into some shoes as you sit on the edge of the bed again.

“Took you long enough,” Yunho’s voice greets you as you sigh.

“I gave you fair warning,” you reply, grabbing your purse as Yunho slips his shoes back on.

“Let’s go then, slow poke,” he teases as you follow him out of the room.

It takes about ten minutes to get to the ramen place, following the GPS on Yunho’s phone. It’s a quaint little place that actually looks really cozy. The bell dings overhead as Yunho pushes the door open and you both walk in.

The employees greet you as you enter, Yunho quickly snagging one of the tables near the window. For a moment, you debate sitting somewhere else, but you see that the other tables are pretty full, so you sigh, sitting across from Yunho.

“Is it that much of a struggle for you to get along with me for one single weekend until the conference is over?” Yunho asks, his voice laced with mock sweetness.

“Well it isn’t easy, that’s for sure,” you grumble.

“Well, we’re representing our university at the conference tomorrow so get it together, okay? I’m sure I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to make a fool of myself tomorrow, hm?” Yunho responds, and you know that he’s right.

“Fine,” you reply through gritted teeth. “I’ll try, but only if you do too.”

“I already have been, princess,” he winks cheekily, knowing you already warned him about the domineering nickname earlier.

It takes all the restraint you have not to reach across the table and punch his perfect face.

About an hour later, you enter the hotel room again, exhausted and ready for a shower and sleep. “Dibs on the first shower,” you tell him, already grabbing your stuff.

“Be my guest,” Yunho shrugs, gesturing to the bathroom door as you walk through it, closing it and locking it behind you.

Deciding not to wash your hair tonight, you start the shower, still taking your time with cleaning yourself. When you finish, you shut the water off and hop out, slipping into your silk pajamas, brushing your teeth, and doing your skincare.

Yunho is waiting when you finally walk out, his head lifting as he hears you open the bathroom door. “Done?” he asks, to which you simply nod, allowing him to walk past you and into the bathroom.

With a sigh, you sit down on the bed, grabbing your phone and checking your messages. About twenty minutes later, the bathroom door opens, a small amount of steam seeping out as Yunho emerges, shirtless, wearing grey sweatpants slung low on his hips.

You have to forcefully avert your eyes to keep from staring at his slightly defined abs for too long, even though you have to admit his pale skin is gorgeous. Shaking your head, you force your mind out of the gutter. He’s your rival!

Surprisingly, Yunho doesn’t call you out on your ogling, choosing instead to walk over to his suitcase, crouching down, as he searches for something. “You didn’t happen to see a grey hoodie over there, did you?” he asks, looking up at you.

You look down at the bed, spotting it under the blanket you’d thrown onto the bed. “This one?” you hold it up, watching as his face lights up and he nods.

“Yeah, thanks,” Yunho replies, offering you a small smile as he walks over, reaching out to grab it. Your eyes widen as he leans over you a little, his chest nearly directly in front of your face. You swallow, feeling heat creeping up your neck as Yunho finally grabs the hoodie, his fingers brushing against yours as you release the soft fabric from your grip.

Blinking as he pulls back, you snap yourself out of it. “No problem,” you respond, watching out of the corner of your eye as Yunho slips the hoodie over his head before plopping down on the bottom of the bed, phone in hand again.

“So, sleeping arrangement?” he asks after a few minutes of silence, setting his phone down and stretching, his hoodie riding up a little to reveal a sliver of skin.

“Uh, what?”

“How are we going to sleep tonight?” he repeats, slightly exasperated.

“Closing our eyes, I guess,” you shrug, setting your own phone down.

Yunho rolls his eyes, nudging your foot with his hand, making you pull it up closer to your body, wide eyed. “You know what I mean, dummy.”

“Well, obviously, I get the bed,” you respond. “I’m the girl.”

“Oh, and girls can’t sleep on couches?” Yunho asks, raising an eyebrow.

“We can, but it’s polite of the man to let the woman take the bed, is it not?”

“Maybe it’s polite of most men, but this man is too tall to sleep on that couch,” he points at the rather small and short couch that is pushed against the wall on the opposite side of the room.

“And this woman gets cramps if I sleep in a weird position,” you argue, crossing your arms.

“But my legs will hang off the end!” Yunho retorts.

“And my back will cramp and I won’t be able to walk tomorrow!”

“Fine, you know what? I’ll be the bigger person and sleep on the couch. It’s late and I’d rather not argue with you again,” Yunho sighs, standing up as he grabs one of the pillows and a blanket.

“Wait, no, I can be the bigger person and sleep on the couch,” you start to move, suddenly feeling a little bad for making him sleep there.

“No, I’m clearly the bigger person here,” Yunho chuckles, gesturing to his height. “And like I said, I don’t want to argue anymore. So let’s just sleep, yeah?”

“Fine,” you frown, reaching over to turn the light off, bathing the room in darkness, except for the moonlight filtering in through the hotel room window.

About an hour later, you’re still awake, tossing and turning, realizing suddenly that you’re actually worried about the conference tomorrow. What if the presentation you have prepared is horrible and they all laugh at you? Or what if Yunho’s is better and he gets all the recognition and job offers?

You glance over at the couch he’s sleeping on, seeing his legs hanging off the end just as he’d said, and you suddenly feel like a horrible human being for making him sleep like that all night when he’s probably equally as nervous about the conference. “Yunho?”

“Hm?” a sleepy hum greets you as you hear rustling.

“You awake?” you ask, whispering.

“Yeah, why?” he responds, his voice a little deeper, thick with exhaustion.

“Are you sure you don’t want the bed?” you ask, hoping he won’t react strongly to your offer.

“I said you could have it,” he sighs deeply, and you can practically hear the annoyance in his tone.

“I know, but I’m clearly more qualified to take the couch,” you respond softly, surprising even yourself with your gentle tone. Suddenly, you think of something. “Or we could… share the bed?”

“No,” he replies, turning over on the couch, facing away from you.

“But you’re clearly exhausted and so am I,” you frown. “I won’t try anything, I promise.”

“Why would I think you would?” Yunho replies, laughing a little.

“I dunno,” you blush, but at least he can’t see the color on your cheeks in the dark. “I’m just trying to reassure you-“

“You know what?” Yunho sits up a little. “I’ll take you up on the offer. This couch hurts.”

You watch as he stands up, stretching before making his way over to the bed, trying not to trip on your suitcase as he steps over it. “I’ll sleep on top of the sheets, though.”

“Deal,” you nod, moving over to let him onto the bed, laughing slightly at his relieved sigh as he lays down. “Just stay on your side, okay?”

“Noted,” he responds, and you can practically hear the grin on his face. “She doesn’t like cuddling.”

“Not with you at least,” you snort in response, rolling over to face away from him. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, princess.” This time, you don’t even feel the urge to correct him.

Your eyes slowly open as they adjust to the dim light filtering into the room. Feeling warmth to your left, you let your eyes drift closed again as you unconsciously shift closer to it, your face coming in contact with something hard and warm. With a start, your eyes open and you look up to see just grey fabric in your vision.

“Huh?” you pull away, seeing that it’s Yunho’s hoodie your face is pressed into. You quickly sit up, making sure he’s still asleep, his eyes closed and his face peaceful, before you look down, seeing you’re literally in the middle of the bed. How could you go against your own rule and not stay on your side of the bed?

All you can do is hope he was too deep in sleep to notice. You quietly and carefully slip out of the bed and grab your clothes for the day out of your suitcase, heading to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

By the time you get out, Yunho is awake and sipping some coffee. “‘Morning,” he greets you with a nod and a small smirk.

“Good morning,” you reply, acting as causal as you can as you go to your suitcase.

“‘No cuddles’, huh?”

You grit your teeth, having half expected this. “It won’t happen again.”

“If it does, I’ll know you lied,” Yunho responds, his tone teasing as he stands up, heading to the bathroom. But before he closes the door, he adds, “And for the record? I didn’t mind.”

His words leave you confused more than anything else as you shake your head, getting back to what you were doing, needing to go over your PowerPoint again before it’s time to present at the conference.

Hours later, when it’s finally your turn to present at the conference, you walk up to the stage, your never making your hands shake. As you start, your nerves slowly dissipate, until disaster strikes. You click the little remote, but the slideshow isn’t playing. Glancing around the room, you give them a nervous smile.

“One moment please…”

Frantically, you press the button, looking at the IT team for help just before the whole computer shuts down.

With a frown, you catch Yunho’s eyes, and he looks concerned. Mustering your courage, you try to salvage the presentation as best you can. “Where was I? Oh um… I think it would really help because… um…”

Your brain feels like it’s malfunctioning and your face is on fire as you try to piece together your thoughts, when you realize. The computer wasn’t doing this for anyone else all day.

Why’d it choose you? Your eyes meet Yunho’s again and it clicks in your head. He sabotaged it. This morning, you left your computer turned on while you went to shower and he must have done something to it.

Holding back tears, you rush off the stage, completely humiliated. You’re so hysterical that you don’t notice Yunho following you out.

You notice him as you turn the corner, hearing him following you as you rush out of the huge conference room, hurrying down the hallway, trying to hold back tears.

“Wait!” Yunho calls out, catching up to you as he grabs your arm, making you whip around on him.

“Why are you acting like you care?! I just spoiled all my chances of ever making it into an elite corporation!” you cry, tears pricking your vision as you move to lean against the wall.

Yunho frowns, taking a step closer to you, “I never said I don’t care. You said that. You’re the one keeping up this ‘rivalry’ like you think there’s something wrong with both of us being smart! You know, in freshman year, I saw how hard you worked and I actually wanted to be your friend! It’s true I don’t have to try as hard, but I still care!”

Your head snaps up as you look at him, really look at him, for what feels like the first time. Your voice is shaky as you ask, “What?”

He steps closer still, “You’re the one making a big thing out of both of us being the smartest at the university and getting into all the prestigious programs together. I’ve only ever wanted the best for you… I mean it. I’ve never wished you’d fail so I could succeed.”

You notice the way his voice softens as he speaks, his brown eyes flicking across your face, trying to gauge your reaction and emotions.

“So you didn’t sabotage my presentation?” you ask, sniffling as you look up at him.

He’s taken aback for a moment, seemingly shocked that you’d even think that before he gently places his hands on your elbows, his warm hands effectively getting you to look up at him, “No, I’d never do that to you. I know how hard you’ve worked because you’re just as good, if not better, than me. What happened today was purely a technical issue and then you clammed up out there when it didn’t go as planned.”

“So, you’re positive you didn’t tamper with it?”

“I didn’t.”

Silence follows as the two of you stand together, your eyes searching his, looking for a shred of proof that he could be lying.

Finding none, you release a shaky sigh before suddenly throwing your arms around his neck, standing on your tippy toes to bury your face in the crook of his neck, finally breaking completely as you sob quietly.

He freezes for a moment, taken aback, but he slowly returns the embrace, trying to comfort you as his hand gently moving to cradle the back of your head, his other resting on your back. “Shh,” he soothes, gently rubbing your back in a soothing motion. “It happens.”

“What? Clamming up completely in front of all my potential employers?” you let out a self deprecating laugh, sniffling.

“Well that���s part of it,” Yunho chuckles softly. “But I mean the computer freezing on you. You couldn’t control that, could you?”

“I could control how I reacted, though,” you frown, pulling away from the impromptu hug. “And I reacted horribly. I crumbled under pressure.”

“You’re young and inexperienced,” Yunho responds, reasoning with you. “I think they’ll take that into account when deciding who to hire. Do you not think it’s impressive enough that you’re in your junior year of college and already got accepted to come to this conference anyway? Do you not think they’ll take that into account too?”

Sighing, you realize he’s right. “Maybe?”

“You don’t sound convinced,” Yunho laughs softly, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “I’m serious, Y/N. You’re smart, mature, and you’re pretty easy on the eyes if I do say so myself.”

You blush slightly, “You’re just saying that…”

“I’m not,” he shakes his head, squeezing your sides gently. “I’m completely serious.”

“Okay,” you respond softly. “I believe you… even though we’re supposed to hate each other.”

“You said that, not me,” Yunho laughs.

“I can’t believe I spent two of my years of college avoiding you like the plague because I thought you hated me,” you rub your nose, sighing.

He gives you a half smile, “We can make up for it now, though, can’t we?”

“I suppose.”

“And you know what?” Yunho starts, his smile growing.

“What?” you ask curiously.

“There’ll be other conferences, other chances to impress those tycoons,” he replies, bending down a little to look you in the eyes.

You gasp suddenly, your hand moving to cover your mouth, “Yunho! You’re missing your presentation! You’re supposed to be presenting in five minutes!”

“If you screwed yours up, so did I,” Yunho laughs. “Our university will just have to pass this time around, yeah?”

“Yunho…” your hands lift to grip his shoulders. “Please go present. Do it for me? Please?”

“Are you serious? You want me to?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing. “But why?”

“Because you’ve been kind to me for almost this whole trip, and the times you weren’t were my fault. So please, you deserve this,” you beg him.

“We deserve this,” he responds, his hand slipping into yours, intertwining your fingers, making you look down at your hand clasped in his before looking back up at his smiling face. “We’ll do it together.”

“What?” you’re shocked, confused.

“You heard me,” Yunho starts tugging on your hand. “We’ll present together. You’ll make up for your mess up, and I’ll guide you, okay?”

“For real?” you ask, a small smile growing on your face as you let him guide you back toward the conference room.

“For real.”

The presentation ends with applause from everyone in the room, and you’re beaming, a smile you can’t get rid of on your face as you and Yunho exit the stage.

Different employers talk to you for a while before they finally let you both go, exhausted yet pleased with how you’d done.

As soon as you’re out of sight from the crowd, you throw your arms around Yunho again in a tight hug. “We did it!”

“We did,” he responds, grinning, as he returns your hug, burying his face in your hair.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his neck. “For letting me do that with you.”

“You deserved it,” Yunho responds. “And maybe I was being a little selfish too?”

“Selfish?” you pull back to look at him, confused.

“I wanted you to finally like me,” he replies sheepishly. “I—I’ve been trying to get you to like me ever since I met you. You just always pushed me away.”

“I only did that because I thought we were in an unspoken rivalry,” you sigh, looking down. “I see now how stupid I was to make something like that up you never even acted like it.”

“That’s not true,” Yunho responds softly. “I did act like it quite often just because of my pride. I didn’t want you to think it was one-sided if you were going to be all… competitive.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, before grabbing your hand in his again. “Ready to go back to the hotel?”

“Yeah,” you smile, letting him lead you out of the building.

As you walk out of the airport, back on the ground in South Korea at the end of the weekend, you’re actually sad to part with Yunho to go home.

“You know, I’m kinda sad that conference was at the end of the school year,” you muse, sighing, as you wait for your sister to come pick you up.

“Why’s that?” Yunho asks, looking down at you.

“Because now I have all summer before we go back to school,” you reply, biting your lip softly.

“Why would you want to go back to school?” Yunho asks, laughing a little at the absurdity of missing school that much.

“Because…” you trail off before look up at him, your voice growing softer. “I’ll miss everything.”

“What’s everything?” Yunho asks, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Well, the campus, classes, my friends…” you trail off before taking a deep breath. “You.”

“Me?” he asks, eyes widening. “You’ll miss me?”

“Of course I will,” you respond, a small smile growing on your face. “This weekend has taught me a lot about things, including you.”

“Has the princess grown up?” Yunho asks, a hint of his old teasing tone peeking through.

“I have,” you laugh softly. “Thanks to you.”

“Glad I could be of service,” he smiles, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully.

Just then, you see your sister’s car pulling up. “Well, that’s my ride I guess.”

“Yeah?” Yunho asks, standing up with you as you prepare to tell him goodbye.

“Yeah,” you breathe, grabbing the handle of your suitcase. “See you later?”

“Of course,” Yunho responds, smiling softly, his beautiful brown eyes sparkling.

“Bye,” you return his smile, starting to walk toward your sister’s car. Inside, you’re warring with yourself, debating back and forth. Should you do it?

Without a second thought about it, you let go of your suitcase handle, running back to Yunho and basically launching yourself into his arms as your lips collide with his. He freezes for only a moment before he grips your sides, returning the kiss. Your lips move against his for a moment before you pull back slowly, panting slightly.

“What was that for?” he asks, breathless, as he brushes his nose against yours.

“I like you too, Yunho,” you respond, a small smile on your face as you glance at his perfect, pink lips again. “I think I always have… I was just scared.”

He grins, joy radiating from his smile, “You like me?”

“I do,” you nod shyly.

Yunho leans in again, capturing your lips with his in another, much softer kiss. When he pulls away, his gaze meets yours. “I’m so happy we spent the weekend together.”

“So am I,” you smile, reluctantly pulling away. “Well, I should go meet my sister before she wonders what’s happening.”

“Yeah,” he nods, letting you go. “Can I give you my number and maybe we can meet up sometime this summer?”

“Please,” you nod, taking his phone from him to type on your number. With a mischievous smile, you make the contact name ‘Princess’ with a heart emoji. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” he responds, smiling when he sees the contact name. “I’ll text you soon.”

“Alright,” you smile, leaning in to give him one more hug before pulling away for real this time. “You know, I’m glad the university made a mistake with the rooms.”

“Me too,” Yunho smiles. “I got to see how much of a cuddle bug you really are.”

“Well, if you ask me out soon, you might get to see it again.”

“Is now too soon?” Yunho laughs, but you can tell he’s serious. “Will tomorrow work? I can come anywhere.”

“There’s a cafe in downtown Seoul. Would that work?” you suggest.

“Perfect,” he smiles, nodding. “I’ll text you the time I’ll pick you up once you send the address, alright?”

“I guess I was worried for nothing,” you laugh, shaking your head slightly.

“About what?” Yunho asks, tilting his head slightly in question.

“Missing you this summer.”

He winks as you move to go to your sister’s car, “You can’t get rid of me that easily, princess.”

“I think I’m slowly learning that fact.”

Taglist: @hongjoongspoetry, @originallyyn, @outlawinthisworld1117, @anxieteez, @touchme-teezme, @fixonateez8, @hum4n-e4ter, @cherriehaz, @eixila, @i-love-ateez, @gigikubolong29, @kyeos4ng, @annoyingretard, @grandlightcandy, @vanishingboots, @bkimrose, @hobarihope, @sunshiinmidnight, @yuyusuyu, @yunnierights, @sunkissedchocobeauty, @seonghwasprincess, @yunhowooyo, @bloomyroses, @hwalilac, @sheerfreesia007

if there’s a strike through your name, i couldn’t tag </3

[monzabee]

run for the hills – lh44 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where fate decides to bring you back into Lewis’ life, making him question his belief in fate.  

Pairing: lewis hamilton x rosberg!reader

Word Count: 9.3k 

Warnings: cursing, crying, drinking and mentions of alcohol, mentions of brocedes (rip), kissing, unprotected sex (you shouldn’t be surprised at this point), oral (m receiving), hand kink, praise kink, minors dni!!

Request: “hey, Merry Christmas 🫶🏽 I was hoping I could request a Lewis smut fic where the reader is Nico Rosberg's sister (with a age gap of around 6-8 years with him and Lewis) and before 2016 they were just really close friends who just kissed once but chose to pretend it didn't happen. after years, they run into each other at a club or a party and they're pretty snappy at each other but there's a lot of tension too and they end up having sex where Lewis is really cocky and also the reader has a hand kink and praise kink? I'm so sorry if I made it too long, i love your writing <33” + “oooo please could i request something w lewis?! something gut wrenchingly angsty? sorry i don’t really have a plot in mind hhhh thank you heheh”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! HAPPY NEW YEAR, i started this fic last week and i honestly didn't think I'd finish it this quickly but here we are. don't let my words fool you, i got the request last christmas but if you know me then you know that i am not quick when it comes to working on requests (i'm working on this i promise), not that this fic is even remotely christmassy, but let’s just appreciate that it is supposed to be set during the holiday period lol. this was supposed to be a shorter one but here we are, lol, i'm not even surprised at my inability to keep things short at this point. i posted this fic and realised i forgot to copy and paste a big chunk of it so oh well. as always, feedback is appreciated, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Lewis decided he doesn’t like cold a long time ago. That’s why, being the ever-decisive person he is, he chooses to spend his winter vacationing in places like the Maldives or Bali. His decisiveness is an important part of him, given what he does for a living. When he is on the track, in his car, there is no room for hesitation – he needs to be able to make split-second decisions under intense pressure, what’s not to love about that? So, once he decided he’d rather spend his time off basking in the sun rather than freezing to death somewhere else, he never looked back. He enjoys spending his time off in someplace tropical with his family, or without his family; most of the times away from the prying eyes and camera lenses of the media. 

But this time, it’s different – he's alone. 

Or rather, he thought he would be alone. The villa he rented out for the duration of the month is isolated, just how he likes it. He wakes up to the sound of waves crashing against the shore right outside his windows, and the distant chirping of tropical birds to accompany him as he lounges on the large deck, overlooking the infinite expanse of blue. There are no spectators around to gauge his reaction, try to get him to speak out about his plans for the next year when he moves to Ferrari, or what he’s going to do when he eventually retires one day. He hasn’t seen anyone from the racing world for weeks, and it’s been a much-needed break. He’d usually love to spend Christmas with his family, the only time he would ever tolerate the cold being when he is with his family, but this year he just wanted to get away on his own. 

There is no one around that expect anything from him. Just peace. 

He’s not a hermit, of course, but he enjoys spending his time by himself mostly isolated from all the other guests of the touristic area he’s staying in. The chef that works at the villa is on call for when Lewis decides that he wants to stay in for the night, the housekeeping staff come every morning to clean up around the house, then promptly leave, providing Lewis with the privacy he so desperately needs. But other than that, and a few nights spent outside in a restaurant or a club? He is all alone, and he is not complaining about it. Another thing about Lewis Hamilton is that he doesn’t believe in fate. He believes in setting and achieving goals; after all, that’s what he’s done all his life. His success isn’t some cosmic coincidence. It’s years of sacrifice by his parents, relentless effort, and unwavering determination. So, when things happen that feel serendipitous, like running into someone from his past, he doesn’t chalk it up to destiny. He chalks it up to the sheer unpredictability of life. 

And yet, as he steps out of the villa to head to a nearby beach club after dinner, he doesn’t expect to run into you, especially not after how the things ended last time, but there you are. His eyes find you at the bar with some guy next to you – he has to do a double take. Just to make sure, he tells himself. But no matter how many times his attention reverts to you, he knows it’s you. Of course, it’s you. Though he’s not a believer in fate or destiny, or whatever you might want to call it, there you are – dressed in a flowy linen dress. His first instinct is to ask the server to seat him somewhere else so that he wouldn’t have stare at you and your ‘date’ for the night. His grip on the glass in his hand tightens momentarily, and he exhales slowly, forcing himself to look away. This is not the moment, he tells himself. It’s not his business, not anymore. But still, his gaze drifts back to you. You’re laughing at something the guy says, your head tilted slightly as you sip from your drink. He can’t hear your laughter, no – but what a sound that would be to hear, he thinks for a moment. 

He knows he shouldn’t care who you’re with or what you’re doing; it’s been years since the two of you shared anything beyond... well anything, really. But something about seeing you here, in this place he thought was his private retreat from the world, feels like a twist of fate – or the kind of cosmic joke he claims not to believe in. But his eyes watch you as you throw you head back in a laugh and he can practically hear the sound in his head, his mind taking him to years ago when he used to be one of the people who got to hear it first hand; when he joined your family on karting days, or when you celebrated with him when he won a race, or even back to that one time when him and Nico were trying to drive those unicycles and you kept doubling over in laughter when they fell down – something your brother did not appreciate, but Lewis couldn’t help the smile that crept on his face as he watched you from the ground.  

Somethings never change, he thinks, as he notices the smallest of smiles that has crept its way onto his face, quickly disappearing the moment he catches himself. He knows it shouldn’t matter to him – let alone bother him. But old habits die hard, and the sight of your smile, that easy laugh, stirs something in him that feels like both longing and a pang of annoyance. You’ve always had a way of getting under his skin. Back then, it was teasing remarks that somehow felt more genuine than any praise he received elsewhere. He catches himself glancing your way again, his jaw tightening when the guy beside you leans in a little too close. It’s irrational, this surge of jealousy that claws at his chest. He knows he has no right to feel this way, but that doesn’t stop it from burning through him. He looks down at his drink, willing himself to focus on anything but you. But memories have a way of sneaking up on him, unbidden. The days spent at karting tracks, the shared dinners with your family, the quiet moments when it was just the two of you, talking about everything and nothing at all. Back then, it was easy. Natural. Like you were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly, until you didn’t. 

Just then, you glance over, your eyes scanning the room before they land on him. For a moment, everything stills. The laughter fades from your face, replaced by something unreadable. Surprise, maybe. Or recognition. His breath catches in his throat, and he curses himself for the way his chest tightens under your gaze. He watches as you excuse yourself, heading towards the restrooms, and he swears he has never gotten up so fast and walked so fast in his life. He doesn’t think, he just moves until he spots you in the hallway, queued behind some people waiting for the bathroom line. What kind of a club only has one bathroom? He thinks, but that’s not the point. 

He clears his throat. 

You turn, eyes widening in that familiar, guarded way. “Lewis.” Your lips open in shock as you glance behind him and then focus on him again, “Did- did you follow me here?”  

“Were you on a date with that guy?” The words come out of his mouth before he can stop himself, his voice colder than he expects. 

You blink, taken aback by the question. “Excuse me?” 

He stands there, regretting the words as soon as they leave his mouth, but that doesn’t stop the irritation from creeping up his spine. His gaze flickers to the bar behind him, where the guy you were with is still talking to the bartender, oblivious to what’s going on. “I asked if you were on a date,” he repeats, a little sharper this time as he emphasises the last word. 

You raise an eyebrow, the surprise on your face melting into something more guarded, a mix of disbelief and annoyance. “What if I was?” You cross your arms, your eyes narrowing. “Maybe I’m just out enjoying my night. Ever think of that?” 

He feels a rush of heat in his chest. “It’s not like I care,” he mutters, though it’s clear from the edge in his voice that he does. “Just curious.” 

You scoff, your lips curling into a sarcastic smile. “Sure, Lewis.” 

“So?” He inquires, “Are you? On a date with that guy, I mean.” 

You raise an eyebrow, clearly not amused. “Are you serious right now?” you snap, your arms tightening across your chest. “You’re standing here, in the middle of a hallway, asking me about my love life? What is this, high school?” 

Lewis feels the heat rise in his neck, irritation mixing with a sense of frustration he doesn’t quite understand. “I’m not asking for your life story, just... just an answer. Is it that hard?” His voice is tight, but he doesn’t back down. 

You scoff again, your lips curling into something between a smirk and a sneer. “You really think you can just waltz back in and start demanding answers like we’re still... You know what? Yes, Lewis, I’m on a date.” You throw a glance over your shoulder at the guy still sitting at the bar. “We met on the beach at the hotel I’m staying at, and I thought I’d let him treat me to a dinner and a couple of drinks before I’d let him fuck me six ways to Sunday.” You roll your eyes at someone on the queue gasping at your choice of words. “Not that it’s any of your business. Are you happy now?” 

Lewis’s hand grips your wrist, a little too tight, and without warning, he’s tugging you away from the bar, his jaw clenched. “Come on,” he mutters, his tone low and urgent, as he steers you towards the back exit. You’re caught off guard, stumbling to keep up with his forceful pace, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“What the hell, Lewis? Let go of me!” you snap, yanking your arm free once you're outside in the chill night air. The chill hits you like a slap, the heat of the club’s atmosphere fading behind you as the door slams shut. 

“Seriously?” he spits, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. “You’re gonna play it like that?” 

You take a step back, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t know what game you're playing at, but I’m not interested. What the hell was that back there? Dragging me out like I’m some kind of... of property?” 

He glares at you, his fists clenched at his sides. “You’re unbelievable.” His voice rises, sharp and cutting. “I ask you a simple question, and you throw that crap at me? What the hell did you think I was supposed to do? Just stand there and pretend like I didn’t care?” 

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Pretend like you don’t care? That’s rich coming from you. You don’t get to just waltz in, after all this time, and act like you can demand answers, Lewis. Like you have any right to know what’s going on in my life.” 

“Your brother would be so disappointed in you right now.” His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, the air between you two freezes. The breeze picks up, but the sudden silence makes the world feel too loud.  

“You don’t get to talk about my brother,” you seethe, as Lewis's face hardens, his jaw tensing, but it’s the look in his eyes that hits hardest — it’s a mixture of hurt and fury, both so raw, you almost feel sorry for what you’ve just unleashed. 

“What did you just say?” His voice is low, almost dangerously so, the words slipping through clenched teeth. 

You swallow, but it doesn’t help the sharp edge in your voice. “You heard me. You don’t get to talk about him, you don’t get to fuck up my life and you don’t get to come back here acting like you still have any claim on me or my life.” You’re breathing heavily now, the anger and hurt mixing into a bitter cocktail that you can’t quite swallow – funnily enough, Lewis can smell the cocktail you had earlier. “You left. You made your choice, Lewis. And now you don’t get to barge back in and pretend like I owe you anything.” 

Lewis stands in front of you, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His eyes are dark, his jaw tight as he processes your words. He doesn’t know when the two of you got closer together, he can practically feel the anger radiating off you, “You think I don’t know that?” he spits, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You think I don’t know what I did?” His voice cracks slightly, the vulnerability slipping out before he can stop it. “I fucked up, alright? I fucked up more than you’ll ever understand. We all did – me, Nico, you.” 

“You don’t get to make me feel guilty about this, Lewis. You don’t get to act like I’m the one who fucked everything up.” Your voice shakes, but you keep going, the words coming faster, more bitter. “You kissed me and called it an ‘accident’, a fluke. You fought with Nico every chance you got. I had to pick up the pieces on my own.” 

Lewis flinches at your words, but his anger doesn’t dissipate—if anything, it only sharpens. His hands remain balled into fists at his sides, but there’s something else behind his eyes now, something raw, something almost desperate. “We wouldn’t have worked out,” he mutters, it’s something that he said to himself time and time again to convince himself of it, “I am– was your brother’s friend, you–” 

“You were my friend, too!” You exclaim, your hands swatting at his arms, chest – anywhere you can reach. “You left me, as if I meant nothing to you! You stole my first kiss and shattered my life to pieces on the same day!” You manage to get in some good hits despite Lewis’ attempts to calm you down, and the lump in your throat makes it harder for you to continue talking, “Do you know how many times I wondered if you kissed me just to piss Nico off? Do you know how that feels?” 

“What?” He asks, his voice low. Each hit, each accusation, it stings. But nothing hits harder than the raw emotion in your eyes – hurt, betrayal, and the weight of everything he left behind. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words catch in his throat. “You think I kissed you to get at Nico?” he says finally, his voice quieter now but no less intense. There’s an edge of disbelief, of hurt, as if the idea itself cuts deeper than your accusations. “Do you really think so little of me?” 

You cross your arms tightly over your chest, holding yourself together in the face of his raw honesty. “I don’t know what to think, Lewis. What was I supposed to think back then? You shut me out. You made me feel like it never happened – like I never happened.” 

“You were twenty-three years old,” he points out, “our age difference–” 

“Oh please,” you scoff, pushing at his chest one last time, “you’ve fucked girls younger than that.” 

Lewis flinches at your words, as if they’ve struck a nerve he didn’t even know was exposed. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. “You don’t get to throw that in my face,” he finally says, his voice low and clipped, tinged with a kind of frustration that feels different from before. 

“Why?” You ask, head cocked to the side. “I can’t comment on you fucking other people, but you can question my actions because I want to fuck–” 

“Say ‘fuck’ one more time and I swear I’ll–” 

“—what, Lewis?” you snap, cutting him off before he can finish his threat. “You’ll what? Walk away again? Pretend this conversation never happened, just like you did last time?” 

His jaw clenches, the muscles in his face tightening as he tries to rein in his emotions. “Don’t push me,” he warns, his voice low and taut, but there’s no real menace in it—only desperation. 

“Oh, I’m pushing?” You laugh bitterly, throwing your hands up. “I’m the one pushing? You’re the one who showed up here, dredging up every memory I’ve spent years trying to bury. Don’t you dare put this on me, Lewis.” 

“You think this is easy for me?” he shoots back, his voice rising. “You think I don’t hate myself for what I did? For what I didn’t do? I’ve lived with this every single day, and you—” 

“Fuck you!” you shout, stepping closer, your finger jabbing into his chest. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck–” 

His hands shoot up, grabbing your wrists – not harshly, but firmly enough to stop your movements. You don’t even fully register how quickly he pushes you against the wall, “You think I ran off and lived some perfect life?” he hisses, his face inches from yours as he inhales deeply. “You think I didn’t miss you every goddamn day? You think I didn’t lie awake at night, wishing I’d had the guts to ask you to stay?” 

His words hit you like a tidal wave, the rawness in his voice leaving you momentarily speechless. For a moment, the anger in his eyes softens, replaced by something else – something that feels far too close to the hope you’ve been trying to suppress. “Well... yeah.” You inwardly cringe how your voice sounds so weak, but Lewis tilts your chin back to make you look at him.  

“Is that so?” He mumbles, thumb caressing your chin as his eyes hungrily take in how your chest moves with each deep breath your inhale and exhale.  

Your breath hitches as his thumb lingers, his gaze dropping to your lips like he’s fighting every instinct to close the distance between you. “Lewis...” you start, but his name comes out softer than you intend, more of a plea than the warning you meant it to be. 

“What?” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous, but there’s a softness to it, an undercurrent of vulnerability that sends your heart racing. “What do you want me to do, huh? Walk away again? Because I can’t. Not this time.” 

You shake your head slightly, but his grip on your chin keeps you from fully looking away. “I don’t know what I want,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “I don’t even know how to feel about you anymore.” 

His eyes darken, and his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans in, his forehead almost brushing yours. “Then let me remind you,” he says, his voice a low rasp. 

Your pulse quickens, every nerve in your body screaming at you to push him away – or pull him closer and he tension between you is suffocating. “Don’t,” you whisper, but your voice wavers, betraying the battle waging inside you. 

“Don’t what?” he asks, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. “Don’t do this?” You don’t answer, your throat too tight, your mind too clouded with memories, anger, and something else you’re not ready to name. He waits, his breath mingling with yours, his patience stretching thin. “Say the word,” he whispers, his voice rough with restraint. “Tell me to stop, and I will. I will let you go back and take him back to your room and do whatever you want.” 

But you don’t say it. You can’t. Because as much as you hate him, as much as you want to scream at him, cry, and push him away... you also want this. Want him. 

And Lewis knows it. 

His hand releases your wrist, sliding down to your waist as his other hand stays on your chin, tilting your face toward him. The kiss that follows isn’t soft, isn’t sweet – it’s desperate, raw, and filled with years of unspoken words. It’s anger and longing, heartbreak, and desire, all crashing together in a way that steals your breath and sends your heart into overdrive. A softer kiss might have been what you wanted, but Lewis knows this is what you need. His body presses against yours, and your hands instinctively find his shoulders, clinging to him as if letting go would leave you falling apart. His lips are warm and insistent, the taste of him intoxicating. Every move, every touch, feels like he’s trying to make up for everything he never said, everything he left behind. 

The kiss deepens, each second unravelling more of the carefully constructed armour you’ve built around your heart. His fingers grip your waist tighter, grounding you even as everything else feels like it’s spinning. You can feel the heat radiating off him with every press of his body against yours. Your mind screams at you to stop, to think, to pull away before you lose yourself completely – but your body betrays you. The years of hurt, anger, and confusion dissolve into the fire burning between you, ignited by a kiss that’s as much a battle as it is a surrender. 

Lewis pulls back just enough to let you breathe, his lips still hovering close, his forehead resting against yours. His breath is hot against your skin, his voice low and rough when he finally speaks. “You still want to go back and fuck your little lover boy?”  

“Who?” You mumble, breathless as a result of the kiss as your eyes become heavy with something you can’t quite describe. 

Lewis smirks, a glint of triumph flashing in his dark eyes. "Exactly," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your waist in slow, deliberate circles. His confidence is maddening, but the heat between you makes it impossible to summon the indignation you’d usually feel. 

You try to muster a response, something sharp and cutting to put him back in his place, but the way his gaze drops to your lips again makes the words dissolve before they even form. “Don’t do that,” you manage, though your voice lacks the conviction you intended. 

“Do what?” he asks innocently, though the rasp in his tone betrays his intent. 

“Act like this changes everything.” 

His smirk falters, replaced by a seriousness that roots you in place. “It doesn’t change everything,” he admits, his voice quieter now, almost tender. “But it changes something. Doesn’t it?” 

Your heart pounds against your ribs as his words sink in. You hate how easily he disarms you, how effortlessly he pulls you back into his orbit no matter how much you’ve tried to escape it. But deep down, you know he’s right. “I hate you,” you whisper, though even you can hear the weakness in your words. 

“I know,” he replies, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin like he’s memorizing every inch of you. “And I hate myself for making you feel that way.” 

The sincerity in his voice cuts through the haze, making your chest tighten. But before you can think about it, you find yourself tugging on the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, pulling him closer to yourself as you mumble, “Kiss me again.” 

Your hands, which moments ago were pushing him away, now find their way into his hair, pulling him closer, as if to anchor yourself in the storm he’s unleashed within you. Lewis doesn’t hold back. His grip tightens on your waist, pulling you flush against him, the wall at your back the only thing keeping you steady. The kiss deepens, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that borders on desperation, as though he’s afraid this moment might slip through his fingers if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. When the need for air becomes undeniable, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours. Both of you are breathing heavily, the space between you charged with everything unsaid. “Tell me you didn’t feel that,” he says, his voice hoarse, his thumb brushing against your cheek. 

You can’t answer right away, your heart hammering so loudly in your chest it drowns out any coherent thought. But eventually, you manage to find your voice. “I hate you,” you whisper, but there’s no conviction behind the words. They sound hollow, even to your own ears. 

He lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “No, you don’t.” 

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snap, but the edge in your voice falters. 

“I’m not,” he murmurs, his gaze unwavering. “I’m telling you what I see. And I see you... still here. Still looking at me like that.” His hand trails down to your hip, his touch light but grounding. “If you hated me, you would’ve walked away by now.” 

You close your eyes, willing yourself to regain some semblance of control, but it’s impossible with him standing this close, his presence overwhelming. “This doesn’t change anything,” you say, though it feels more like you’re trying to convince yourself than him. 

“Maybe not,” he concedes, his voice softer now. “But it’s a start.” You don’t say anything to agree or refute his statement, and after a brief pause, he straightens, fixies your dress and tries to fix your hair as well. “Come on,” he says, “I’ll take you back.” 

“But, my bag,” you mutter, pushing out your lower lip in a pout when you realise your bag is on the floor. Lewis has to restrain himself when he sees your lips all puffed up because of him. Your voice is whiny, and he realises you’re slurring your words a little bit when you tug on his shirt, “I don’t wanna leave my bag here.” 

Lewis looks at you for a moment, his expression softening as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin with the same tenderness he’s shown all night despite all your fighting. With a soft exhale, Lewis bends down to pick up your bag, holding it out to you with the same quiet care. “Don’t make that face,” he murmurs, his voice teasing but laced with something tender. “You really wanna go back to that room, after everything that just happened?” 

You look at him, a mix of confusion and desire swirling inside you. “I don’t know what I want,” you admit, the honesty slipping out before you can stop it. The words feel raw, vulnerable, but there’s something about his presence, the way he’s here, still so close, that makes you feel safe enough to say it. 

Lewis doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, his eyes soften, his thumb grazing the strap of your bag as he watches you closely, as though he’s searching for something in your expression. Finally, he steps closer again, the space between you narrowing once more. “I get it,” he says quietly. “But I’m not letting you go home alone tonight.” 

The words send a shiver down your spine. You want to protest, to push him away, but there’s something in his gaze, the way he’s looking at you now, that makes you second-guess everything you thought you wanted. You hesitate for a moment longer, the weight of your thoughts heavy in the air, but the pull between you is undeniable. It’s the kind of pull that’s magnetic, that doesn’t let you escape even when you try to resist. 

Finally, you nod, the decision feeling both like a surrender and a choice you can’t take back. “Okay,” you murmur, your voice barely audible. “Take me back, then.” 

You don’t even remember getting into his car, but you do remember the smug look he shot at your date – Carl, you think – when he helped you through the club with a firm hand on your back. The villa Lewis rented for his little getaway is entirely what you expect it to be – modern, grand, and secluded enough so no one uninvited would know he is there and bother him. The couch in the living room looks way too inviting and you make a mental note to avoid it for now. Sitting on it might make this whole situation feel too real, too comfortable, and you’re not ready for that. You glance around the space instead, taking in the clean lines of the modern furniture, the polished wood floors, and the sprawling windows that offer an unobstructed view of the moonlit ocean. You walk towards the windows, eyes taking in the view from inside the villa. The ocean stretches out endlessly before you, its surface shimmering under the moonlight. The soft sound of the waves crashing against the shore is faintly audible even through the glass, a gentle hum that seems to echo the turmoil in your chest. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, partly to steady your nerves and partly to shield yourself from the vulnerability creeping up on you. The view is breathtaking, but it does little to quiet the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You faintly hear Lewis calling out your name, but as if you are in a trance, you can’t take your eyes off the view in front of you. His voice calls out to you again, softer this time, closer. “Hey,” he says, and you feel the warmth of his presence before you even see him. Lewis’s reflection appears in the glass, his dark eyes fixed on you as he stands just behind you. 

You finally tear your gaze away from the ocean and turn to face him, your arms still wrapped protectively around yourself. “It’s beautiful,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile moment. 

Lewis nods, his expression unreadable as he follows your gaze back to the window. “It is,” he agrees, but there’s a weight to his tone, as if he’s not just talking about the view. His eyes flicker back to you, searching your face. “But it doesn’t seem like it’s helping much.” 

You let out a shaky laugh, more to fill the silence than anything else. “It’s not that simple, Lewis.” 

“Nothing ever is,” he replies, stepping closer until there’s only a breath of space between you. “But I’m here. You don’t have to deal with whatever this is alone.” 

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten, and for a moment, you let yourself lean into it. “I don’t know what to do with you,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “With... us.” 

He exhales deeply, his hand lifting as though he wants to touch you but hesitates. “You don’t have to figure that out right now,” he says, his voice steady. “I just want to make sure you’re okay tonight. That’s all that matters to me.” 

Something about his words, his presence, eases the knot in your chest, if only slightly. “I don’t even know where to start,” you murmur, more to yourself than him. 

“Then don’t,” he says simply, his voice carrying a quiet reassurance. “Just be here. With me.” 

You look up at him, your eyes searching his face for any sign of pretense or ulterior motives, but all you see is the same man who’s managed to undo you with a single glance. “Show me your room.”  

“We don’t have to do that.” His eyebrows furrow as he reaches for your cheek, “That not why I brought you here.” 

“Isn’t it?” You try to joke, but his deep sigh is a sign of his disapproval. “I know that’s not why you brought me here, but it can be one of the reasons you brought me here.” 

“Can it?” He drawls, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.  

“For God’s sake, Lewis.” You sigh, turning your body towards the man standing next to you. “Do I need to beg you for you to fuck me?”  

Lewis’s smirk falters, his expression shifting into something deeper, darker, but undeniably tender. “Don’t,” he murmurs, his voice low and edged with restraint as he steps closer. His hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “You don’t need to beg me for anything. Not now, not ever.” 

The intensity in his gaze makes your breath catch, and for a moment, the air between you feels electric. “Then fuck me,” you whisper, your voice trembling with equal parts frustration and desire. “If you want me, show me.” 

He closes his eyes briefly, like he’s steadying himself, and when he opens them again, the resolve in his expression takes your breath away. “You think I don’t want you?” he asks, his tone low but firm. “You don’t know how hard it is to hold back, to stop myself from–” He cuts himself off, his jaw tightening as if even admitting it is too much. He reaches for one of your hands, freeing from your hold and places it on his crotch. “See what you do to me?” 

The crude act manages to steal a gasp from you, your eyes widening at how hard he already is. “Lewis,” you mutter, he responds with an affirmative hum, “show me your bedroom.” 

He takes your hand, his grip firm but careful, and leads you down a sleek hallway. The sound of your heels clicking against the polished wood floor echoes softly, a counterpoint to the pounding of your heart. When he pushes open the door to his bedroom, you’re momentarily distracted by how much the space reflects him. The massive bed dominates the room, its crisp white sheets and plush pillows inviting. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the silver glow of the moon, casting the room in a soft, ethereal light. The massive bed dominates the room, its crisp white sheets and plush pillows inviting. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the silver glow of the moon, casting the room in a soft light.  

You walk towards the centre of the room, the corner of your lip trapped between your teeth as you glance at Lewis over your shoulder before you run towards the bed and throw yourself onto the soft bedding. Lewis watches you with an amused smirk as you sprawl across the bed, your carefree motion starkly contrasting the simmering tension in the air. “Comfortable, baby?” he asks, his tone teasing, but the heat in his eyes betrays his calm façade. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows, giving him a challenging look. “Very.” Then you narrow your eyes at him, “But don’t call me baby, I am not your baby.” 

He chuckles, low and throaty, as he steps closer, loosening the top button of his shirt with a deliberate slowness that sends a shiver down your spine. “No?” he muses, stopping at the edge of the bed. His eyes roam over you, drinking in every detail as if committing you to memory. 

Your breath hitches when he leans over, placing a hand on either side of your body, effectively caging you in. His face is so close to yours now that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “I like seeing you like this,” he admits, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Relaxed, it suits you.” 

A flush creeps up your neck at his words, but you refuse to let him have the upper hand completely. Your fingers trail up his chest, over the defined planes of his torso, and then slide beneath the open collar of his shirt. “I could say the same about you,” you reply, your voice soft but loaded with meaning. 

His response is immediate. His lips crash against yours with a fervour that steals your breath, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you flush against him. The kiss is raw and consuming, years of tension and unspoken words pouring into the connection. When he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing ragged, he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. 

You smile, your hands slipping down to the waistband of his pants. “Why don’t you show me?” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. In one smooth motion, he lifts you, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he carries you to the centre of the bed. He chuckles at the sound of your giggling, as he carefully lays you back down on the soft bed. His fingers work diligently to get you out of your dress, pulling the linen garment over your head as Lewis lets his eyes hungrily take you in. When your dress finally falls away, leaving you in nothing but lace and skin, Lewis takes a slow breath, his eyes scanning over your body with a mixture of awe and hunger. “You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick with admiration. His fingers trace the curve of your waist, his touch sending shivers of desire through your body. 

You arch slightly into his touch, your breath coming faster, and you meet his gaze with a challenge in your eyes. “Are you going to just gawk at me, or are you going to actually do something?” 

He smirks, a flash of cockiness in his eyes. “Patience,” he teases, but there’s no mistaking the hunger in his voice as he lowers himself over you. With one hand bracing himself above you, his other hand slides down between your bodies, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His touch is slow, almost teasing, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as his fingers inch closer to where you need him most. “You like this?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly, his lips just inches from yours. His fingers find the lace of your underwear, his touch deliberate as he pulls it aside and slips a finger inside you, making you gasp. “You’re fucking perfect,” he groans, his lips crashing against yours as he deepens the kiss, his finger working inside you with a slow, steady rhythm. You can feel the heat building between you, the tension in the room thickening with every passing second. 

“Don- don’t say ‘fuck’, Lewis,” you tease him with a small smirk as your breathing becomes deeper, “it’s unbecoming.” 

“You’ll see who will be coming in a few minutes, baby.” He chuckles at the way your expression changes at the mention of the word, his fingers moving in deeper as your let out a disapproving moan, “What? You don’t like it when I call you that?” 

With another dissenting hum and a raise of your hips to meet his hand, you let out a long exhale. “I’m not your baby Lewis, stop calling me that.” With the patience that only he can tolerate, he continues the leisurely movements of his fingers. “I want more, please.” 

Lewis tuts at your words softly, chuckling as he takes in your reactions. “I think you have a very important decision to make here,” he murmurs, his eyes suddenly painted with something more serious, “because once I fuck you, I’m not letting you go.”  

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” The words come out choppy as your breathing gets more erratic, his fingers stubbornly keeping to the slow rhythm he’s set.  

Lewis's gaze sharpens, the challenge in your tone sparking a flame in his dark eyes. “Oh, you’ll see it, alright,” he murmurs, his voice a velvety promise as his hand withdraws briefly, leaving you breathless and aching. Before you can protest, he moves with deliberate precision, tugging his shirt over his head and revealing the expanse of his chest – sculpted, strong, and utterly captivating. “Get on your hands and knees.” 

The command leaves no room for debate, his voice firm but laden with heat. Your heart skips a beat as you meet his gaze, a mixture of defiance and curiosity flickering in your expression. “Bold of you to assume I'll listen,” you quip, though the slight tremor in your voice betrays your anticipation. 

Lewis smirks, leaning down until his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Oh, you'll listen,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “Because you know exactly how patient I can be, but the same can’t be said for you.” 

A shiver runs through you at his words, and before you realize it, you’ve complied, shifting onto your hands and knees in the centre of the bed. You can practically feel his gaze on you, then all of a sudden, you can actually feel him behind you, the bed dipping slightly under his weight as he moves closer. “Good girl,” he says softly, his voice rich with approval, and the way your body reacts to the praise is almost embarrassing. “Oh, my beautiful darling.” His hands skim over your back, tracing the curve of your spine before settling on your hips. The grip is firm, possessive, sending a thrill through you.  

The sounds of him taking himself out of his trousers and pumping cock in his hand is pure debauchery, yet you find yourself pushing your hips back against his thighs. Lewis's low chuckle reverberates through you, a sound full of confidence and desire. His hand tightens on your hips, steadying you as he leans in, his chest brushing against your back. The heat of his skin against yours makes you arch into him instinctively, earning another throaty laugh from him. “You're eager,” he teases, his voice dark and dripping with amusement. “I like you like this.” 

You bite your lip to suppress the needy sound threatening to escape, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Maybe you're just slow,” you retort breathlessly, glancing back at him over your shoulder, a challenging look in your eyes. 

Lewis growls low in his throat, his hands sliding across your back. “Careful,” he warns, though there's a glint of amusement in his dark eyes. “Push me too far, and I won't be nice.” Your breath catches at his words, but before you can form a response, you feel him guiding himself to your entrance, teasingly dragging against you. The deliberate slowness makes your frustration peak, and you push your hips back, a wordless plea for him to stop teasing. 

“Patience, darling,” he murmurs, his voice a husky promise. But even as he says it, he shifts forward, entering you with a deliberate motion that steals the breath from your lungs. 

The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve in your body alight as he holds still for a moment, letting you adjust. “Lewis,” you breathe, your voice shaky with need.  

His hands gently caress over the skin of your back and hips, soothing over the sharp feeling of Lewis easing himself into you in small movements of his hips. “You’re doing so well,” he shushes your whiny moans, his hands tracing your sides, grounding you. “You feel perfect, we’re almost there, darling.”  

“A-almost?” Your voice cuts his words off, voice shaky with need, “It’s not going to fit, Lewis, I can’t-” 

He leans over you, his lips pressing tender kisses along your spine, each one sending a ripple of warmth through you. His voice is a soothing murmur in your ear. “Relax for me, darling. Let me take care of you.” Your breathing steadies under his touch, the initial sting giving way to a fullness that leaves you breathless as he pushes himself fully into you. You arch your back slightly, pressing into him as his hands continue their gentle exploration of your body. The tenderness in his actions contrasts with the raw desire in his voice, creating a heady mix that leaves you yearning for more. “That's it,” he praises, his tone soft but laced with heat. “You’re incredible. See? We made it fit.” 

“I feel so full.” You manage to let out, voice whiny as the moan is ripped from the back of your throat. “It feels so good, Lewis.” 

He begins to move, a slow, steady rhythm that builds gradually, allowing you to feel every inch of him. The friction ignites a fire within you, and you can’t help the soft moans that escape your lips, each sound spurring him on. His grip on your hips tightens, his pace increasing as he finds the perfect rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. “You feel so good,” he groans, his voice low and thick with desire. His hand slides up your spine, tangling in your hair as he pulls you back slightly, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re mine, you know that? Only mine.”  

The moan that comes from you is dissenting, causing Lewis to slide his hand down your throat to use the leverage to pull you up on your knees, pressed against his chest. “No,” you say, hands extending backwards to keep holding onto him in an attempt to keep up with the rhythm in which he is fucking you now. 

His words send a shiver down your spine, the possessiveness in his tone igniting something primal within you. “Say it,” he commands, his voice rough as his movements grow more urgent. “Say you're mine.” 

Your breaths are shallow, punctuated by soft whimpers as you cling to him, trying to keep pace with his movements. The way he pulls you against him, his hand firm on your throat, sends a jolt of heat through your core. His hand is firm around your throat, but not uncomfortable to the point that you can’t breathe. 

“I’m not yours,” you gasp defiantly, your voice trembling with every move he makes.  

Lewis growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your back as his hand tightens slightly around your neck—not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you in place. “We’ll see about that,” he says darkly. 

His hips snap against you harder now, his rhythm relentless as if determined to prove you wrong. The overwhelming sensation leaves you gasping, your fingers clutching at his forearm for balance. His free hand slides down your body, gripping your waist to hold you steady as he drives deeper, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. 

“Still not mine?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. His tone is equal parts teasing and commanding, daring you to resist him. “Still think someone else can fuck you better than I can?” You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moans spilling from you, but the way he moves, the way he claims you, has you crumbling. “Say it,” he repeats, his voice a low growl that echoes through your very core. 

Torn between defiance and surrender, you meet his challenge with a shaky breath. “I’m-” you begin, but he cuts you off with a particularly deep thrust that has you crying out his name instead. 

“Hmm?” Lewis chuckles darkly, clearly enjoying your struggle. His grip on your neck softens slightly as his fingers trace the column of your throat in a soothing gesture. “Come on, baby, just say it.” 

“I’m-” The word catches in your throat as he shifts slightly, the angle of his hips hitting a spot that sends a jolt of pleasure through you. A broken moan escapes your lips instead, and Lewis smirks against your ear, clearly revelling in your unravelling. 

“Say it,” he demands again, his voice low and demanding. His hand slides from your throat to your jaw, turning your face just enough that his lips can brush against the corner of your mouth. The gentleness of the gesture is at odds with the raw intensity of his movements, leaving you breathless. 

“I’m yours,” you finally gasp, the words tumbling out in a mix of desperation and surrender. 

Lewis freezes for a heartbeat, his chest heaving against your back as the admission settles between you. Then, with a triumphant growl, he resumes his pace, his grip on you tightening as if he intends to imprint himself into every fibber of your being. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. His lips trail along your shoulder, leaving a path of heat in their wake. “Say it again.” 

“Yours,” you whisper, the word coming easier this time, though the weight of it still sends a shiver through you. 

His rhythm grows more urgent, his body moving with a single-minded purpose as he pushes you both toward the edge. “Never forget it,” he groans, his voice rough and ragged, “now come for me.” You blame the singular cocktail you had three or so hours ago for your compliance to his words, as you feel the wave of pleasure crash over you, obliterating any coherent thought. Your body trembles uncontrollably in his arms, your cries of release echoing in the room as he whispers sweet words of praise in your ear.  

There are a million other things Lewis expects you to say, but you surprise him with a, “I wanna taste you.”  

Lewis's movements still, his breath catching at your unexpected words. He pulls back slightly, his dark eyes locking with yours, filled with surprise and a flicker of intrigue. A slow, mischievous grin spreads across his face. “Oh, is that so?” he murmurs, his voice tinged with amusement and undeniable heat. 

You nod, your cheeks flushing under his intense gaze, but there’s a spark of confidence in your eyes. “I really do,” you say softly, the tremble in your voice betraying both your boldness and your eagerness. 

He studies you for a moment longer, his expression shifting to one of reverence laced with desire. "Well," he says, his voice low and gravelly, "who am I to deny you, darling?" With a gentleness that contrasts the fervour of moments ago, Lewis guides you to sit up, his hands warm and steady as they support you. He shifts to the edge of the bed, leaning back slightly, giving you room and letting you take control. His gaze never leaves you, his dark eyes glinting with anticipation. You settle between his thighs, your hands skimming over his skin, marvelling at the way his muscles tense under your touch. There's a sense of power in the way his body responds to you, in the way his breathing hitches when your lips brush against him. You look up at him, meeting his gaze with a small smile before leaning in. The moment your mouth closes around him, Lewis groans low in his throat, his head falling back as his control begins to slip. His hands find their way to your hair, his touch gentle but firm as he guides you, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. “Just like that,” he praises, his voice rough with pleasure. “You’re perfect, baby.” 

The sound of his voice, the way he says your name like it’s the only thing that matters, spurs you on, and you lose yourself in the moment, intent on unravelling him the way he did you. Your lips move with deliberate intent, your tongue tracing teasing paths that have him groaning your name like a prayer. His fingers tighten in your hair, a gentle tug that makes you glance up at him through your lashes. The sight of him – head tilted back, his lips parted as he struggles for breath, sends a thrill through you. 

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice ragged and filled with awe. His eyes find yours, and the intensity of his gaze makes your pulse quicken. “You have no idea what you do to me.” Encouraged by his reaction, you take him deeper, your hands gripping his thighs to steady yourself. The sound he makes is primal, his control slipping further as his hips jerk involuntarily. He tries to hold himself back, but you can tell he’s close to losing himself completely. “Baby,” Lewis rasps, his voice thick with need, “you keep that up, and I won’t last.” You hum around him in response, the vibration pulling another groan from his lips. His hand slips from your hair to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a tender contrast to the raw passion between you. “Look at me,” he whispers, his tone almost pleading. 

You meet his gaze, and the connection between you feels electric. His chest heaves as his breaths come in quick, shallow bursts, his control hanging by a thread. “I’m so close,” he warns, his voice a low growl. “Do you want me to stop?” The shake of your head is all the answer he needs. With a curse under his breath, he lets go, his body shuddering as he gives himself over to the waves of pleasure crashing through him. He holds your gaze the entire time, his grip on you tightening as if anchoring himself to the moment. 

When he calms down, he collapses back against the bed, his chest rising and falling with deep, uneven breaths. You sit back after swallowing, a triumphant smile playing on your lips as you take in the sight of him, utterly undone. “That was fun,” you rasp as you take in the sight in front of you. 

Lewis chuckles softly, the sound low and breathless, as he drapes an arm over his face, trying to regain his composure. “Fun?” he repeats, his voice laced with amusement and lingering satisfaction. He peeks at you from under his arm, his dark eyes glinting with a mixture of adoration and disbelief. “You’ve got no idea what you just did to me.” 

You tilt your head, feigning innocence as you crawl up the bed to lie beside him. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” you tease, your voice light but with a hint of pride. 

He turns toward you, propping himself up on one elbow, his free hand reaching out to trace lazy circles along your arm. “You’re dangerous,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet filled with a reverence that makes your cheeks flush. “And I’m completely at your mercy.” 

You laugh, the sound light and genuine, as you nuzzle into his touch. “I think you like it that way,” you reply, your fingers grazing over his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your touch. 

“More than you know,” he admits, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your temple. The tender gesture contrasts with the raw intensity you’d just shared, and it sends a warm flutter through your chest. 

For a moment, silence falls between you, the only sound the soft rustling of the sheets and the slowing rhythm of his breathing. Then Lewis shifts, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer. “You know,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your hair, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” 

The weight of his words settles over you, and you glance up at him, your heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his gaze. “Good,” you whisper, a small smile tugging at your lips.  

He smiles back, a look of pure contentment spreading across his face as he tightens his hold on you. “That’s all I get?” 

“We’ll see how you feel after we get home,” you mumble as you run a finger along the curve of his jaw, “you might be bored of me by then.” 

“Home,” Lewis muses quietly, breaking the silence and ignoring your words. His voice is softer now, contemplative. “I like the sound of that.” 

You glance up at him, his face so close that you can see the faintest hint of vulnerability in his expression. It stirs something deep within you – a mix of tenderness and longing that takes you by surprise. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, leaning in to brush your lips against his. “Me too.” 

[withwritersblock]

That's so True pt. 2

~That's so True by Gracie Abrams~

Author's note: you guys really wanted a part two, so here we go! I am not super fond of how this ended BUT I had so much fun writing this so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! Summary: Luke tries to win Y/N back Warnings: implied smut, brief description of a broken ankle Word count: 12,696 Luke Hughes x fm!reader Part One

She walked into the house, well before the party started. She saw Mark and Ethan cleaning up the living room area. Only for it to get destroyed later tonight. “Y/N!” the two of them cheered as she entered the house. She rolled her eyes playfully as she shyly brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face.

“Hey guys,” she mumbled as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her gaze scattered around the house in search of Luke. Ethan met Y/N’s brief gaze, knowing what she was thinking. A soft chuckle fell from his lips before he let out a long huff of air.

“Hughesy’s in his room,” Ethan offered. Y/N nodded as she met Mark’s gaze briefly. His phone vibrated in his pocket, he smiled widely as he pulled it out. “Is that the red hair–”

Y/N walked away from them towards the hallway leading towards Luke’s room. She began to tune out whatever Mark and Ethan were saying. Carefully, she raised her hand up and knocked three times. 

Luke let out a loud groan from inside of the room, which she assumed was his attempt of asking for her to come inside. Slowly, she pushed the door open to see Luke laying on stomach. His face was smashed into his pillow. His eyes opened slightly looking towards her direction.

She unzipped her jacket as she quickly pulled it off of her shoulders. She delicately rested it onto his desk. Y/N slipped off her shoes, tilting her head to the side. His cheeks were flushed red and he dark under eye circles. He looked like he hasn’t slept in days.

“What’s wrong, baby?” she asked softly as another groan fell from his lips. Her lips fell into a pout as she walked towards the bed. “Lukey,” she mumbled as she leaned down towards the bed. She ran her fingertips through his hair. He hummed.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” he mumbled, his voice was scratchy and hoarse. Her lips pouted as she continued running her fingers through his curls. “I’m probably contagious,” he muttered as his eyes opened, meeting her gaze. 

Her hand glided along his upper back for a few seconds before she climbed over him. “Baby, no–go enjoy the party. I’ll be fine,” it sounded like it was painful for him to speak. Luke rolled onto his back, his lips were in a pout. Y/N laid beneath the comforter as she held out her arms towards him. “Go enjoy the party,” he sniffled, “I’ll be okay,” he mumbled. 

“Will you–just–” she muttered as she waved her hands towards him. He sniffled before he rested his head into the crook of her neck. Their legs instantly entangled as his hands glided beneath her shirt. His hands were delicately along her side. 

One of her hands ran through his curls as her other hand gliding up and down his bare back. His body erupted in goosebumps with her soft touch. His breathing was raspy as he was probably dealing with a chest cold. 

“I’m going to get you sick,” he whispered against her neck. 

“I don’t care,” she whispered as he pressed his lips against her neck briefly.

‘I feel like you should care a little bit,” he muttered back as he ran his thumb along the skin of her stomach.

“I want you to feel better, so I don’t mind,” she mumbled. He took a deep raspy breath as he lifted his head up from her neck. He leaned up on his hands as he looked down towards her. She raised her hand up and glided her hand along his flushed cheeks. Her lips fell into a pout, “You’ve got a fever, baby,”

His face scrunched together for a moment before he rested his face into the crook of her neck. 

“Lukey,” she mumbled, “Let me get you some medicine,” she whispered. He let out a long drawn out groan before he rolled away from her body. He fell onto his back. 

“Hurry back, I miss you already,” he mumbled as he brought the blanket up towards his chin. Slowly, she stood up from the bed, rolling her eyes playfully. 

“Stay there pretty boy,” she teased as she slipped out of his room. 

People were starting to enter the house for the party. So far the music was loud but it wasn’t party level yet. Y/N walked towards the kitchen smiling towards Mark. He explained something quickly towards the red haired girl beside him. Mark jogged towards Y/N.

“You and Hughesy joining us?” he asked hopeful. She took a deep breath as she began to dig into the medicine cabinet. The medicine that she has stocked for the boys because they were clueless.

“Luke’s not feeling good and has a fever,” she explained as she pulled out Ibuprofen from the cabinet. “I’m gonna make sure he’s okay,” she expressed as she met Mark’s gaze.

Mark nodded, “That makes sense he was slow all practice,” Mark expressed, “Do you want a drink?” he walked towards the fridge.

“Can you just grab two waters,” she asked. He nodded. Soon, he placed the drinks in front of her. “Thank you, Markie,” she let out with a soft grin. She took a hold of two tiny pills as she carried the waters back towards Luke’s room.

Slowly, she pushed the door open to see Luke was laying on the bed, the blanket all the way off of his frame. “Take these and drink this.” she instructed as he slowly sat up. She handed up the two tiny pills and the bottle of water.

He didn’t hesitate as he took the medicine and drank most of the bottle of water. She placed her water onto the night stand before she climbed onto the bed. She laid beneath the comforter and this time Luke instantly laid on top of her. 

“Thank you baby girl,” he whispered against her neck. She hummed as he leaned away from her. “You’re like a sauna,” he muttered as he fell onto his back. He tossed the blanket low on his frame. His chest was rising and falling quickly. 

Her lips fell into a pout, “What can I do?” she questioned. He shook his head slightly. Rolling onto her side, she took a hold of his cheek, forcing his gaze towards her. “I’m gonna kiss you,” she mumbled as she glided her hand across his flushed cheeks.

“I’ve got germs,” he muttered as he scanned her features.

“Will it make you feel a little better?” she questioned. He nodded as his gaze lingered on her lips. “Then I’m going to kiss you,” she mumbled. 

“You’ll get sick,” he muttered as he reached his hand over and tangled it into her hair. 

“It’ll be worth it if I can make you feel a little better,” she let out as she leaned towards him, kissing him delicately. 

A soft hum fell from his lips. After a few seconds, she pulled away. Opening her eyes, she saw Luke’s eyes were still shut as he was breathing unsteadily. His lips were still curled upward. Her thumb glided along his flushed skin. 

“Yeah, that–that helped,” he mumbled as he manuvered to lay on her again.

Mark sat in the living room, watching a movie with his new girlfriend Ava. Her legs were draped across his lap as he slowly gliding his hands up an down her thighs. Mark shifted his gaze towards Luke who was walking out of his room. 

He looked ridiculous. His face was hidden in a black hoodie and his legs were covered by very lose sweatpants. Luke didn’t look towards Mark or Ava as he continued walking towards the kitchen. They shared shifty glances towards each other then to Luke.

“Is he okay?” she asked barely above a whisper, sitting up slightly.

“He’s not,” Mark let out softly as he shifted his gaze towards Ava. “He messed things up with Y/N and she like put the nail in the coffin,” he explained while gesturing slamming a hammer. Ava shot her head back, chuckling softly.

“I hear you talking about me,” Luke shot back from the kitchen. He was slamming the fridge door shut. Mark’s eyes widened as an awkward chuckle left his lips. “And she didn’t put the nail in the coffin, I’m gonna fix things,” he said as he walked passed them carrying a gatorade. 

“And how are you going to do that?” Mark asked him, sitting up straighter. 

Luke leaned against the doorway to meet Mark’s gaze. Luke had a sad smile on his lips as he took a deep breath. “I don’t know but I’ll figure someting out,” he let out simply as he walked back towards his room. He left Mark and Ava alone.

Luke instantly collapsed onto the bed, laying on his stomach. He took a long sip of his Gaterade. His phone was vibrating beside him. Luke forced his gaze towards his phone to see Quinn was calling him. He furrowed his eyebrows as he pulled the phone in front of him to answer the FaceTime.

“How’ve you been, Lukey?” Quinn answered the call instantly. Luke’s eyes widened slightly as he looked towards his eldest brother.

“I’m alright, why?” he questioned suspiciously. 

“You haven’t called and you look like shit,” Quinn said while he rested his phone down. He began walking through his kitchen area. Luke didn’t reply as his mouth fell open, confusion written all over his features. “Dad also said that you and Y/N broke up,” 

Luke dropped his head, a soft groan falling from his lips. “I said we stopped hanging out, we weren’t together,” Luke muttered.

Quinn let out a dramatic laugh as he walked back towards his phone camera, his mouth fell open. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Quinn asked while shaking his head slightly.

“What?”

“She wasn’t your girlfriend?” he asked while his eyebrows furrowed harshly together. Luke shook his head, before he laid onto his side, holding the phone close to his face. “You’re an idiot,” Quinn said as he placed a cutting board in front of him. 

“I’m not an idiot,” Luke mumbled as he began to scroll through his camera roll. Quinn on FaceTime was in the corner of his phone screen. Quinn took a deep breath, preparing to give Luke a lecture. 

Luke’s eyes landed on a photo of him and Y/N. He clicked it and it was a photo they took after one of his games. His face was sweaty as he pressed his cheek against hers. Her hands were squeezing his cheeks with a beautiful grin on her lips. 

“Okay, I’m an idiot,” Luke forced out as he took a deep breath. “Jack’s been telling me that it’s ‘any minute now, Lukey, any minute you’ll get the call’ so I didn’t want anything serious,” Luke explained, mocking Jack’s voice.

“Why not? What’s wrong with serious?” Quinn asked as he began chopping an onion loudly. Luke continued to look through his camera roll, stopping and admiring each photo with Y/N.

“I didn’t want a girlfriend when I went to Jersey. I didn’t want to worry about anything holding me back,” Luke explained.

Quinn stopped chopping and placed the knife beside him. He took a deep breath before he took a hold of his phone. Bringing it towards his face, making sure Luke knows he’s serious. “You’re so fucking stupid. She was like perfect for you,”

She was laying in bed, a hoodie covering her frame. Her blanket was tugged highly up beneath her chin. She was sick, overwhelmingly sick. It was probably the worst she’s been sick in years. 

There was a soft knock on her door and she forced out a barely audible, “Come in,”

She kept her gaze towards the TV that was playing New Girl. “Hey baby girl,” Luke mumbled as he walked inside, twisting the lock in the process. “I brought you some liquid IV and some soup,” he expressed as he walked towards her. Slowly, she sat up sniffling slightly. “I didn’t know what else to bring but I thought this was a start,”

“Thank you,” she forced out, she barely had a voice. His lips fell into a pout as he placed the soup onto her dresser before he kicked off his shoes. He took one of the water bottles from her dresser; that Lydia dropped off for her a few hours back. She was so bed ridden that she couldn’t get up to grab it.

“Oh baby, it’s kicking your ass, huh?” Luke mumbled as he began to pour the powder into the bottle of water. Shutting it, he quickly began to shake it. He placed it onto the side table. She hummed as she watched him pull his hoodie from his frame. Slowly, he climbed over her to lay beside her. 

“You don’t have to stay,” she forced out. He let out a teasing gasp as he ran his fingers through his hair. Quickly, he laid onto his side reaching for her waist at the same time. She let out a huff of air as she laid down, facing away from him. He looped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. He pressed his lips against the side of her neck.

Her body fully relaxed with her back pressed against his chest. Luke glided his hands along her stomach as he dipped his hand beneath her hoodie. “I’m the reason you’re feeling like this, let me make you feel better,” he mumbled against her neck. She mumbled something he couldn’t hear, instead he continued to glid his hand along her skin as he shifted his gaze towards the TV in front of them.

She took a wheezing breath as she reluctantly sat up. Luke tried to keep a protective hold over her frame, but she carefully swung her legs to hang off the bed. “What do you need? What can I do?” Luke asked instantly as he followed her movements. She chuckled dryly as she reached towards the bottle of water beside her. He raised his hand up and ran it along her back.

She took a small sip, cringing at the taste before she placed it back down onto the side table. “They only had lemon lime left, I’m sorry,” Luke mumbled softly. 

Carefully, she laid back down. This time she faced him. His eyes were flickering all over her colorless features. “It’s okay, I appreciate you,” she let out barely audible. He hummed as he glided his hand through her hair. He pulled her closer to him as he laid onto his back. Allowing her to rest her head onto his chest. 

“Have you slept?” he asked softly as he continued to run his hand through her hair. 

“No,” she muttered. 

“Try to get some sleep, I’ll be here,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. Slowly, she sat up; Luke trailed her movements. She took the ends of the hoodie on her frame and pulled it over her head. She tossed it to the floor as her body was now only covered by a tanl top.

“Too hot,” she mumbled as she laid facing away from him. He chuckled as he watched her movements. She scooted back, a soft smile on his lips as he wrapped his arm around her frame. His hand glided along her side, hearing her wheeze for breathing. 

“Do you regret kissing me?” he whispered into her ear. A soft tight lip smile formed to her lips. 

“Never,”

Luke rolled onto his back, keeping his phone rested beside him. He stared towards the ceiling for a few seconds. “How do I fix this?” he asked softly. “I mean–I tried but she won’t even talk to me. She won’t even come to the house to see Markie,” he explained.

“Well, what the hell did you do?” Quinn asked.

Reluctantly, Luke explained what happened for the last three weeks. He talked about how he realized he had fallen for Y/N. How he ended things over text and how Kaleigh’s friend practically jumped his bones the second she found out Luke and Y/N ended things. How he didn’t stop it. How his thoughts were consumed with Y/N as the other other girl’s lips were on his. How he thought that if he was kissing another girl, he would move on from her faster.

It was the exact opposite. He needed her more. He craved her more. He was in love. For the longest time, he didn’t know what being in love was like. Except, his level of happiness was so high with her around. His heart would be beating so slowly, almost as if he was completely content and his natural state with her. 

Yet his heart would slame hard against his chest any time their lips connected, it was a blissful combination that he craved. He needed the surge of emotions and response, she gave.

“All I know is that I fucked up and I need to know how to fix it,” he expressed as he finally took a hold of his phone screen to see Quinn still preparing his meal. 

“What is she doing today?” Quinn asked.

“Uh–pretty sure she’s got like an exhibition game thing today,”

“So, go,” Quinn expressed while dragging out the words.

“She doesn’t want me there,” Luke let out softly.  

“Do you want to try and get her back or not?” Quinn let out frustratingly. Luke let out a dramatic groan.

“I’ll see if Markie and Ava wanna go,” Luke mumbled, “I’ll call you later,” he said before he hung up the phone, not giving Quinn an option to reply. Just as he was standing up from the bed, he heard a knock on his door. “Yeah?” he called out.

Mark pushed the door open and stepped inside. Ava stood awkwardly in the hallway. “I’m getting the house together to go watch Y/N play today. You wanna come?” Mark asked as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Luke grinned as he nodded.

“I was just about to ask you guys that,” Luke said excitedly.

“Of course you were. Is this a part of your plan to get her back?” he let out teasingly.

“Maybe,” Luke said as he tossed the hood off of his head. 

Mark rolled his eyes playfully as he shut the door, “I’ll text you when we’re leaving!” he shouted through the door. Luke smiled to himself as he walked towards his closet to get a hold of a new set of clothes.

She was nervous. Today was her first game back after being injured four games ago. Of course her first game back was against Michigan State. Usually, the crowd was packed for the rivalry night. At least she was told. Tonight was her first time since she was a freshman. 

The music was loud as both teams were warming up. Her eyes were dancing around the crowd, searching for her friends and family. It was an important game. 

She stepped up into the drill, preparing to hit the ball over the net. The ball came into her direction and she leaped up and smacked over the net in the designated spot she was aiming for. Landing hesitantly, half expecting her ankle was going to bother her. It didn’t. She smiled softly as she walked towards the back of the line. 

Her eyes landed onto the student section, watching it get more and more crowded. She searched for her friends but they were no where in sight. She took a deep breath as she switched her attention towards the Kendrick Lamar song playing in the background.

Quickly, she found herself searching again. Her eyes landed on her family sitting on the complete opposite side of the small arena. They instantly waved towards her. Seeing her for the first time in months. She grinned before the whistle blew, forcing them off of the court for the other team to warmup.

“Y/N!” her coach called after her. Her eyes widened as she took fast steps towards her coach. “How’s that ankle?” he asked her. 

“Doesn’t hurt,” she said as she rested her hands onto her hips. 

“Get it wrapped anyway,” he instructed, pointing towards the table with the athletic trainers. “And get ready, you’re starting,” he continued. Y/N nodded as she walked towards the table and smiling towards the trainer.

“Ankle?” she asked as she began pulling out the tape. 

“Doesn’t hurt but he wants me to wrap it anyway,” she expressed.

“Smart, let me know if this is too tight,” she explained as she waited for Y/N to take off her shoe. She leaned back letting the trainer wrap her ankle as she looked up towards the student section. All of her friends and Luke were sitting front row. She smiled softly as she stared towards her friends.

Luke looked down towards her, waving subtly towards her. Her grin widened as she met his gaze. Mark and Ethan were talking about something while Luke kept his gaze towards Y/N. He held up a thumbs up before switching it down to a thumbs down. She gave him a thumbs up.

He nodded as he returned the thumbs up. Rolling her eyes playfully, she looked towards, Reagan. Reagan looked towards her suspiciously. “Shut it,” Y/N mumbled as she shut her eyes, focusing on the song playing throughout the arena. 

“Who’s that grin for?” Reagan asked teasingly. Y/N chuckled softly as she glanced back towards Luke.

“My friends,” she let out cautiously. Reagan finished taping Y/N’s ankle, tapping the table. Y/N instantly began to put her shoe back on. 

“Uh huh,” Reagan said while nodding her head slowly. 

She hopped off of the table, jumping a few times; testing the tightness of the wrap. 

After a few minutes, the arena lights went out as the hype video for the team began to play with HUMBLE. by Kendrick Lamar on the jumbotron. Y/N shifted her weight back and forth as she stared towards the giant screen. 

The video was a lot of fun to film. It was one of the most important pieces of team bonding they did. They spent several hours dancing and screaming towards the camera. Kendrick Lamar’s music played on repeat for the whole time. 

Dina and Y/N part was right before the beat drop to highlight the teams best plays from last season. The crowd started cheering loudly as the highlights started playing on beat to the song. This specific hype video was edited differently to show all of the spectacular plays they have made against MSU last year. Dina smacked Y/N’s arm excitedly as the video slowly faded as the crowd cheered loudly.

Luke was hanging behind the group, suddenly incredibly nervous that Y/N would’ve been pissed that he was there. Luckily for Luke, the game was only an off-season match up. Mark and Ava led the charge while the other roommates were in a cluster. Luke pulled the hat off of his head as he ran his fingers through his hair before he covered his hair again. 

They walked into the student section, that was surprisingly getting full. Mark guided the group to sit front row, like they always do. Luke hesitantly sat down beside Ethan. Luke instantly searched for her number on the court. She wore the number four. His eyes landed on her waiting in line for a warmup drill. His lips curled upward as he watched her smile and laugh with her teammate. 

“Oi Laser!” Mark shouted, forcing Luke’s posture to straighten and his eyes to widen. Y/N spun around, switching her gaze to the student section. She grinned widely as she scanned the crowd. Y/N met Luke’s gaze. Her smile faltered only slightly as she waved softly towards them.

“Laser?” Ava questioned softly. 

“You’ll see,” Mark let out teasingly as he glided his hand across Ava’s lower back. “She’s killer,” 

Luke chewed on his bottom lip as he watched them go back to their bench. The assistant coaches and interns were cleaning up the volleyballs. 

Y/N and Dina stood on the sideline doing their long extravagant handshake. It was something they have done for nearly every game since the beginning of their last season. They stayed off of the court as the usual non-starters hit the court first. Luke kept his gaze on Y/N as subtly as he could.

She was smiling, happy. Nothing like the last time he saw her a few weeks back. But she always had a different aura during games. She was definitely her happiest while playing. Similar to how he was with hockey. Maybe that’s why they got along so well. 

He watched as she shifted her gaze towards the student section; or towards him. He couldn’t tell. Their eyes met, at least he thought, she pressed her lips together awkwardly as she cheered for her teammate that achieved a point.

The first set ended with a win for the Wolverines, which meant Y/N was getting on the court. She was in the front row, anticipating the serve. The serve went over the net and immediately Dina bumped it towards their teammate Georgia. 

Georgia set the ball towards Y/N. She was already up in the air as she hit it straight down split between two of the other teams players. It instantly it the ground, awarding a point to the Wolverines. The crowd cheered as the team got together high fiving one another.

“Fucking Laser!” Mark cheered loudly. Luke smiled as he clapped his hands together before he leaned forward, resting his arms against his legs. The following rally ended with a similar kill by Y/N. She was one of the nominees for freshman of the year in their conference, so it was no surprise to anyone in the arena that she was going to stand out. 

Luke watched as she jumped up, attempting a solo block and succeeding. The student section instantly stood up clapping and cheering. “Stonewall,” Luke muttered as he smirked as he watched her dramatically hug Dina. 

“She’s fucking insane, dude,” Ethan mumbled. All Luke could do was smile before he looked back towards the court. 

The game was tight. They were tied at 2-2 sets and were in the middle of the last set. Y/N had a career night already. She totaled nine kills and fifteen blocks on the night. The team was currently on a timeout, they were all huddled together; drawing up a quick play to hopefully get the win. The Wolverines only needed one more point to clinch the win. 

Luke’s gaze was on his phone, scrolling through his Instagram feed. He landed on an Instagram post that the volleyball team shared. It was a video of the kill that pushed the game to a fifth set. It was a dominating and badass. She hit it practically straight down between two of the the Spartans players. She fell back to the ground stepping backwards, a wide cocky grin on her face as her teammates all crowded her. 

She looked so hot, Luke was getting all flustered the more he watched the highlight. She was incredible in more ways than one.

He shared it to his Instagram story with the word, “Yup,” and a blue heart beside it. 

He lifted his gaze to see them line up, she was set up in her usual spot. Luke watched as Dina served the ball over the net. The other team had a play drawn up and instantly hit the ball in Y/N’s direction.  She was already in the air, her hands up to block the ball. Her block attempt worked and the ball went back to Spartan’s zone. It caught them off guard and the ball instantly hit the ground again.

Y/N jumped in the air as the entire arena erupted into loud cheers. She had a huge grin on her lips as her teammates began to surround her. Luke shot up from his seat, cheering loudly.

“Atta girl! Let’s go, baby!” he cheered as he cupped his hands around his mouth. The crowd started to leave the stands towards the court. Y/N and Dina hugged dramatically.

Y/N eyes danced around the overwhelming amount of people on the court, until her eyes landed on her parents. She took fast steps through the crowd towards her parents. “Y/N!” her mom let out happily as Y/N excitedly gave her a hug before she gave her dad a hug.

“Awesome game, sweetheart,” her dad let out as she pulled away from the fast embrace. 

“Thank you, I’m glad you guys were able to make it!” she said smiling widely.

“How’s that ankle?” her mom asked. Y/N shifted her weight back and forth, waiting for the adrenaline to wear off. 

“It’s good!” she mumbled as she glanced behind her to see Luke and the roommates standing in a group a few feet away. She looked back towards her parents, “I’m gonna go say hi to someone really fast and I’ll be back!” she offered. 

“Of course, honey, we’ll be right here!” her mother offered as she waved Y/N off. 

She smiled kindly towards her parents before she began walking towards Luke. She met his gaze, he grinned once their eyes met. He stepped towards her, holding out his arms for her. Instantly, she wrapped her arms around him. He engulfed her body with his. He held her tightly to his chest.

“Great fucking game,” he whispered into her ear as he shut his eyes. She chuckled as she rested her head against his chest for a few seconds. 

She pulled back, awkwardly crossing her arms over her chest. She began putting the majority of her weight onto her right foot as she was getting an overwhelming amount of pain in her left ankle. She winced slightly before she looked into his eyes.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

“Hurting, huh?” Luke asked as he glanced down towards her foot.

She nodded, “It wasn’t for a while,” she mumbled as she attempted to put more weight back on her foot. 

“Good thing, you won’t have a game for a few days.” he mumbled as he glanced behind her. She followed his gaze, looking towards her parents. They were watching them expectantly. She looked back towards Luke, smiling softly. “This is the first game they’ve been able to come see, right?” he asked softly as he stepped a little closer to her. 

“Yeah,” she mumbled before she glacned behind herself again, “I’ve gotta go back,” she let out awkwardly, “I’ll see you tonight?” she asked softly as she subconsciously delicately took a hold of his arm. She dragged her thumb across the skin of his bicep before she pulled it away; suddenly aware that her parents could see her. 

“Of course, yeah,” he mumbled as he stepped back, smiling towards her before he faced his roommates.

Luke loved watching her play. She was easily one of the best players on the team, maybe in the conference. She was a walking highlight reel and her celebrations were always one for the books. It was his favorite when she would have a cocky grin on her face as she would stare down the other players.

Ethan used to say they were perfect for each other on their shared love for over the top celebrations. He wasn’t wrong, most of their friends agreed.

Right now, the exhibition game was on the verge of ending as the third set was almost closed out. Y/N was subbed out as it was uneccessary to keep her in the game. Luke kept his gaze towards her as she looked back up towards him. This time she had a small smile on her lips. 

The Wolverines were able to close out the game with a dominating win. The crowd cheered loudy as they instantly started to leave or head down to the court. Mark and Ava led the charge again towards the court to go see Y/N. Luke and Ethan hung back as they walked slowly behind them. 

“Surpsised you joined us,” Ethan expressed as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Luke nodded as he pulled the hat away from his head as he ran his fingers through his hair before he placed it back onto his head.

“We agreed to be friends,” Luke said.

“Markie said you’re trying to win her back,” Ethan said while nudging him sightly. Luke smirked while stifling a laugh. 

“That too,” he let out as the group approached Y/N and Dina. Y/N smiled towards the group, her gaze lingering on Luke.

“I didn’t know you guys were coming,” she offered as Mark wrapped his arms around her for a second before he pulled back. 

“We were bored and wanted to watch you destroy,” Ethan chimed in.

“And you did,” Luke let out while meeting her eye. She pursed her lips forward as her and Luke’s eyes remained connected. 

“Thanks guys,” she said as she forced her gaze towards the other people in the group.

“Do you want to go get dinner or something?” Mark asked her as he had a protective hold around Ava’s waist. Y/N’s eyes widened as she subconsciously looked over to Luke for a moment. Luke chewed on his bottom lip before he took a deep breath. He dropped his gaze shyly towards the floor. 

She nodded as she adjusted the skin tight long sleeve on her body. “Just let me head home to shower,” she expressed.

“Did you drive?” Mark asked. She shook her head as she pointed behind her towards Dina. “Lukey, why don’t you take her back to her place to get ready,” Mark said with a teasing grin on his lips. Luke’s eyes widened as his lips parted slightly. His gaze darted towards Mark’s direction.

He would never admit it out loud, but he loved them together. Sure, he missed spending time with Y/N but he’s never seen her so happy before. She was the happiest when she was with him. 

Ethan’s mouth dropped open as he shifted his gaze between Luke and Y/N expectantly. The other roommates all fought grins on their lips as they looked towards Mark. Ava smacked her hand against Mark’s stomach, almost to scold him.

“Only if you want to,” Luke mumbled out as he ran his hand over his nose. He avoided her gaze. 

She looked towards Mark as she clenched her jaw. “Sure,” she drew out the word, creating a collection of muffled conversations between the group. “Let me grab my stuff,” she mumbled as she walked away.

Luke forced his gaze towards Mark, “Okay, just throw me in the deep end, thanks,” Luke said with a nervous laugh falling from his lips. The group began to laugh as he ran his hand across his chin.

“You’re welcome, Hughesy,” Mark said with a wide teasing grin. Mark smacked his hand against Luke’s shoulder. “Now’s your chance,” Mark mumbled as everyone began to leave the court; except Luke. 

Luke shifted his weight between his feet as he forced his gaze towards his phone. He saw a handful of texts from Quinn asking how it’s going. He was always so nosy. 

She walked back towards Luke awkwardly, shifting her bag in her arms as she looked up towards him. His heart jumped into his throat as he looked over her frame. “It was awesome to see you play again,” Luke expressed. She forced a small smile on her lips.

“It was great to play again,” she mumbled as she squeezed the bag strap on her shoulder. He tilted his head to the side as he slowly began to walk back out of the court. She kept her gaze low while she followed after him out of the small arena. Luke didn’t push anything or try any conversation as he guided her towards his car.

It was freezing outside as it was drizzling. Y/N sped up to walk beside him. He shifted his head to meet her gaze. “I promise I didn’t ask Mark to do that,” he expressed as he pulled his keys from his pocket. 

“I saw your face, I sorta figured,” she let out while laughing. He tossed his head back as he unlocked the car. “It’s okay, I trust your driving more than Dina’s,” she mumbled. 

Slowly, she walked back towards her parents. Y/N tried to hide the fact that her ankle was in overwhelming amount of pain. It was throbbing, it was creating a headache for her. Her mom had a small grin on her lips as she crossed her arms over her 

chest.

“Who was that?” her mom asked teasingly once she stepped up towards them. Y/N’s eyes widened as she spun around to look towards Luke’s direction. He was already looking in her direction, he had a small smile on his lips. Awkwardly, he dropped his gaze towards the floor, pursing his lips forward.

“He’s my friend,” she let out as she looked back towards her parents, a small smile on her lips. She pressed her lips together as her eyes widened.

“Friend?” her dad asked. Rolling her eyes, she pushed her parents slightly.

“Can we leave please?” she asked softly. 

“Where’d you park your car?” her mom asked as she wrapped her arm around Y/N. She took a hesitant breath as she kept her gaze onto her feet, limping slightly.

“Luke drove me,” she muttered, hesistantly. 

“So the friend has a name,” her dad teased, “He was sitting with Markie, does he play on the team?” her dad pressed as he wrapped his arm around her as well. She hummed dramatically. “Is he one of Markie’s roommates?” he pressed again. She hummed again. 

Slowly, she slipped away from their grasp. Wincing, she cringed at the pain shooting from her ankle. “Please stop asking questions,” she whined out. Her parents laughed as they let her walk ahead of them. “Can you guys buy me dinner already?” she asked while laughing. She pushed the door open and stepped outside to see the sunset cascading outside of the arena. 

“If you tell us more information about Luke,” her mother teased.

“There’s nothing more to tell,” she let out while taking a deep breath.

“Then no dinner for our daughter,” her mother let out. 

The entire drive to the restaurant, she kept avoiding the topic of Luke but her parents continued to press on about it. How was she supposed to explain to her parents that he was a friend who she was sleeping with nearly every day. How was she supposed to explain that she was falling in love with her friends with benefits. 

They were immediately sat in the restaurant in a booth near the back. Y/N kept her gaze on her menu, scanning every option. Everything looked amazing. Her phone vibrated and flashed on beside her. Her nosy mother glanced down towards her daughter’s phone screen. 

Y/N’s phone screen background was a selfie that she had taken with Luke. He was laying on her chest, smiling softly towards the camera with her. Her fingertips were gliding in his hair in the photo. Just so happened to have a text from Luke. 

Her mouth fell open as she instantly stole her phone from the table, putting into her lap. “Just friends, huh?” her mother teased.

“What did you see?” her father asked while grinning teasingly. Y/N’s cheeks flushed as her body became overwhelming hot. 

“A really cute photo of her and Luke as her phone background,” her mom teased while grinning widely.

“Please stop,” she mumbled as she tilted her head back, “I don’t want to talk about it,”

“Why not? If he’s your boyfriend, you can tell us,” her dad said.

“He’s not my boyfriend,”

“Oh I see,” her mother offered with a smirk toying to her lips.

“Mom,” she scolded.

“Are you being careful?” her mother asked.

“Mom!” she scolded while laughing nervously. 

She sat still as she waited for Luke to pull out of the parking lot. He kept his gaze on his phone for a moment, texting someone. He chuckled softly as he placed his phone into his cup holder before he pressed play on the songs he queued up.

“Ready?” he asked softly. She hummed as she subconsciously lifted her gaze to meet his eye. He had a soft smile on his lips before he began to back out of his parking spot. 

“Kaleigh said that you and Sophie aren’t seeing each other anymore,” she let out, swallowing harshly. 

His eyes widened slightly as he took a shaky breath. “I’m not even sure we we’re seeing each other to begin with. She found out that we weren’t—um—together anymore and she saw an opportunity,” he explained. He took a deep breath as he tilted his head back against the head rest.

“Opportunity?” she asked with a smirk toying to her lips.

“She kept kissing me and then like a few minutes later ask if Jack was coming to visit any time soon,” he explained while chuckling. Y/N barked out a laugh as she shook her head. “When I sobered up, I told her to practically leave me alone and she listened,” 

“What? Were you drunk for three days straight?” she asked teasingly.

“Yeah—yeah I was actually,” he said while laughing, “Not my proudest moment,” he mumbled as he clenched his jaw.

“I know,” she mumbled while forcing her gaze towards her lap again. “She was really hot,” she forced out trying to sound like a joke but it came out a little sad. 

“She’s not really my type,” he said as he glanced towards her. Rolling her eyes playfully, she looked towards him. His cheeks were flushed red as he was biting his bottom lip nervously.

“Yeah and what’s your type then?” she let out while chuckling. 

Luke pulled up toward a red light, shifting his head to the side to meet her gaze. He fought off a grin on his lips as he scanned her features. He ran his hand across from his nose as he took a deep breath. 

“I like volleyball players,” he muttered shyly. She rolled her eyes dramatically as she tossed her head back. 

“Luke,” she let out barely above a whisper. 

“You asked,” he mumbled as their eyes met again. Her eyes softened, the longer their eyes remained connected.

“I know what you’re doing,” she muttered as her eyes lowered towards his lips. She took a deep breath as her body erupted with a wave of heat.

“Is it working?” he asked barely above a whisper. She shook her head as she forced her gaze forward. Luke smirked as he began to drive ahead. “You’re smiling, so it’s a start,”

“I’m a smiley person,” she teased as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

“You haven’t been smiley around me for a few weeks,” he let out as he pulled up towards her sorority house. “As long as you’re smiling, then there’s a chance,” he teased as he put the car into park.

She tilted her head to the side, meeting his gaze. She took a deep breath while taking off her seatbelt. “Luke,” she offered as she raised her eyebrows. He hummed as his gaze dipped towards her lips. “Not gonna happen,” she mumbled as she opened the car door. He dropped his head while laughing. 

“Okay,” he mumbled as he fought a grin. 

“I’m serious,” she let out as she leaned her head back into the car. 

He smirked as he scanned her frame, admiring her thighs briefly before shooting his gaze back up to meet her eye. “Sure,” he mumbled.

“Luke,”

“Just go shower, I’ll be waiting here,” he let out while chuckling. She stayed still for a moment as she continued to look into his eyes, “Unless you want me to join you,” he said mockingly. She slammed the door shut causing Luke to tilt his head back and laugh to himself.

~~~

It had been a few days since she last saw Luke. He wasn’t pushing any boundaries. Wasn’t trying to beg or do anything that would make her uncomfortable. But he was still trying to win her back in the most subtle ways possible. Sending her TikToks that he thought she would find funny. That was the plan. At least until she agreed to hang out again. 

Mark was the first one to realize in the last three weeks that they were miserable without one another. Luke was feeling helpless and stupid over everything that he did after he ended things with her. While she was feeling sad. The only way to describe what she was feeling. She was sad and the only two times she looked like herself in the las few weeks were when she was in the exhibition game and when she was sitting next to Luke at the dinner that same night.

She continued to have a subtle sad pout to her lips when he was not around. Mark was tired of seeing it and was tired of the cat and mouse game the pair were starting to do. Especially since they keep talking to him about each other; he hated being in the middle. 

Mark and Y/N were jogging outside, in the cold, trying to maintain fitness in the off season. Mark was slightly ahead, used to constant running while she was used to more short bursts of cardio. 

“Have you spoken to Hughesy since your game?” he questioned, breathing practically normal. 

She took in an urgent breath. “Texted a little,” she mumbled out.

“Have you forgiven him yet?” he asked as he began to run backwards to meet her gaze. She shrugged while she took another urgent breath.

“Thought you agr—agreed to hate him,” she said as she tilted her head back, squinting slightly as the sun blinded her. 

“That was until I saw how fucking miserable you are without the nerd,” he let out while grinning.

“His tongue was down ano—another girl’s throat the next day after ending things with me. Of course I would be fucking miserable,” she stopped short, bending over trying to catch her breath.

“To be fair, I think it was her tongue down his throat,” Mark said while chuckling.

“Still,” she muttered as she began to jog ahead. Mark began to follow after her again. “You guys must think I lack a lot of self respect to go back to him after that,” she said pointing a finger towards him.

Mark’s mouth fell open for a second before he clamped it shut. He ran his fingers through his hair as he slowed his pace to match hers. Mark stared towards his feet, trying to find something to say to that.

There was so many things that he wanted to say, tell her that it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. Even herself. Luke was so madly in love with her that he was afraid of something real. Mark wanted to tell her that, tell her that Luke meant it. 

“You know guys are—like—dumb right?” he let out as he reached towards her, forcing her to stop running. She spun around meeting his gaze. “Luke doesn’t have a mean bone in that Gumpy ass body,” he began. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully as she took a deep shaky breath. “He was dumb but he wasn’t trying to hurt you,” 

“I know! But just because he wasn’t trying doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to be upset,” she said as she frowned slightly. 

“But at least let him make it up to you!” Mark urged as he jumped slightly.

“Why do you care so much?” she asked while dragging her tongue across her bottom lip.

“Because I want my best friend to be happy,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And that nerd made you so fucking happy,” 

She fought a grin forming to her lips, she was definitely the happiest she’s ever been when she was with him. She was in love with him, she was sure of it. But she still hasn’t been able to get the image of him kissing Sophie out of her mind.

She took a deep breath as she ran ahead, “We’re not talking about this anymore, how’s Ava?” she switched the subject as she spoke loudly. Mark rolled his eyes playfully as he was following after her urgently.

“She’s amazing, doesn’t have a single jealous bone in her body,” he expressed happily.

“Finally, tired of being stared down for existing,” she uttered as she chuckled.

“That’s because Ava is hot and confident and sexy so she doesn’t need to be jealous,” he explained as he jogged ahead of her. 

“She is hot—like—really hot, so don’t fuck it up,” she teased, “She’s like way too hot for you—” 

“Okay, damn, rude,” Mark said while laughing. Y/N barked out a laugh as they were running side by side down the street back towards his house. “How’s that ankle?” he asked as they jogged up the stairs towards the front door.

“Back to normal,” she smiled as she pushed the door open. Her eyes landed on Luke who was sitting in the living room with his laptop in his lap. He lifted his gaze, smiling softly once he saw them walk inside. 

“How was your run?” Luke asked as he kept his gaze on Y/N. Slowly, he trailed her frame, not so subtly. 

“I thought it was fun but Y/N thought otherwise,” Mark offered as he jogged towards the kitchen. Luke placed his laptop beside him as he stood up. He walked towards her, their eyes connected. She ran her hand over her forehead before she dropped her gaze towards the floor. 

“Haven’t been good at running since my ankle,” she offered.

Luke kept his gaze on Y/N as she laughed at something Dina said to her. She leaned forward as she rested her hands against the top of her thighs. Luke bit his bottom lip as he leaned forward staring towards her. He watched as she prepared for the play to start. 

The other team sent the ball over the net directly towards Dina. Luke’s body straightened, completely ignoring what Ethan was ranting about beside him. All Luke knew was that Ethan was upset about something with Dina. He’s had a little crush on her for a while. Luke watched as Y/N hit the ball towards the back right corner of the court. 

She came back down and instantly collapsed to the ground as all of her weight landed on her bad ankle. The whole arena gasped as she kept her leg limp against the ground. She had let out a loud sob as she kept smashing her fist towards the ground. Her entire leg felt like it was on fire from the pain.

Luke instantly stood up, leaning against the railing in front of him. He squeezed his hands tightly as he stared towards her laying there. His heart jumped into his throat. “Luke,” Ethan whispered as he stood up with Luke. He felt his body run hot as he felt his hands were starting to shake as he kept watching her.

“Come on, baby,” he let out softly.

Dina waved her hand towards her coach and Reagan, practically begging for them to come over to help her. Luke’s lip quivered as he continued to stare towards her not trying to stand up. He kept watching her fist hit against the ground, trying to switch her attention to something other than the pain shooting up her leg.

Reagan ran her hand up and down Y/N’s back while she was whispering something to her. Dina was leaned down beside her, glancing awkwardly around the court. Y/N finally rolled to sit up as she reached towards her coach and Reagan to help her stand up. They both looped their arms around her waist, helping her stand up.

“Come on, baby, put some weight on it,” he mumbled as he watched her delicately put her toe against the floor. Her entire body was on the verge of collapsing again. Luke dropped his head as his shoulders slumped. “Fuck,” he let out while taking in a deep breath. 

“Excuse me,” he mumbled towards the people sitting beside him as he started walking out of the student section. He could hear Ethan and Mark call after him but he didn’t care. He continued walking down the stairs to turn and head towards the main level of the arena. 

He walked up towards the doors that were blocked by a security guard wearing a bright yellow jacket. “Sorry, kid, you can’t go in there,” he alerted. Luke’s eyes widened as he looked towards him urgently.

“Y/N, the girl that got hurt, she’s my—she’s my girlfriend, please,” he practically begged. The security guard took a deep breath as he stepped aside. That was the first time he’s said that word.

“I’m not supposed to but go ahead,” he instructor. Luke muttered his gratitude as he quickly took a left to walk towards the corner where the athletic training table was at. Luke jogged up towards the table, watching her force her eyes opened slightly.

Her lips fell into a pout, “You can’t be here,” she mumbled softly. Reagan began to delicately untie her shoe. Y/N tossed her head back against the pillow, the delicate touch was even too much.

“He can stay,” Reagan expressed as she tried to losen the shoe as much as possible. Luke delicately ran his hand across the top of her head. Before he leaned down and carefully pressed his lips to her forehead. 

“How bad is it?” he asked softly before he kissed her forehead again. 

“She said she felt a snap,” Reagan offered as she slowly began pulled the shoe off of her foot. She winced instantly as covered her face with her hands. “I know, I’m sorry, I know,” she mumbled.

She pulled her hands from her face as she opened her eyes to meet his gaze. Her foot began to throb instantly as the shoe was completely pulled off of her foot. Luke wiped his thumb across her cheek, wiping a tear that was streaming down her cheek.

“Did I at least fall gracefully?” she asked, trying to lighten her own mood. Luke chuckled softly as he leaned down and kissed her lips swiftly. 

“It was very graceful,” he muttered before he kissed her lips again for only a second. She smiled softly for a moment as if all of the pain dissipated. “It’ll be okay, baby, it’ll be okay,” he whispered as she continued to scrunch her features together as Reagan slowly unwrapped Y/N’s ankle. 

“She’s still got it,” Mark offered from the kitchen as he walked back towards the living room. He tossed her one of the water bottles as he returned to the room.

“Course she does, it’s Y/N,” Luke offered as he tilted his head to the side while smirking slightly. She rolled her eyes playfully as she took a sip from her bottle. Shyly, she looked down towards the floor as she shifted her weight back and forth. Mark grinned as he looked back and forth between them. 

“I’m going to my room,” he let out with a smirk toying to his lips. Y/N mouth fell open as her eyes widened slightly as she watched Mark walk away. 

Luke dropped his head slightly as he awkwardly ran his hand along his neck. He took a deep breath as he lifted his gaze again to meet her eye.

“Can we talk?” he asked softly. She pursed her lips forward as she slowly nodded. He led the way towards his bedroom. He pushed the door open as he pressed his back against the door. She met his gaze as she walked into the room. Carefully, he shut the door behind them, locking the door in the process. He didn’t want Mark or any other roomates of his interrupting them. 

She sat on the edge of his bed, awkwardly fidgeting with the label of the plastic water bottle in her hands. 

“I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N,” he said as he kept his back against the door. His breathing had picked up as he watched her lift her head up to meet his gaze. Hesitantly, she placed the bottle of water on the floor as she continued to look towards him.

“Luke,” she mumbled.

“I know I hurt you and I’m so fucking sorry. I know you don’t want to hear it but I was so scared,” he let out as he clenched his fists a few times as he stepped towards her before he hesitantly leaned back against the door. “I never had girlfriends in high school, I never had anyone even like me long enough to stick around but you did. I was terrified of that,”

He kept his distance, not necessarily blocking the door to keep her inside but he needed something to lean against. “I know I messed up with ending things the way I did and with Sophie and I know that you probably can’t forgive me for that. But what if you at least let me try to make it up to you,” 

“Luke,” she mumbled again. His eyes widened as he stepped towards her nodding. 

“I’ve been called stupid a lot over the last few weeks for how I’ve treated you—if that’s any constellation,” he expressed. She rolled her eyes as a laugh fell from her lips. “Laughing, that’s a good sign, right?”

“Mark’s called you a nerd a few times,” she offered. His mouth fell open as he glanced behind him. Almost as if Mark was standing there.

“I am not a nerd, I am stupid but I am not a nerd,” Luke offered as he walked towards her. 

“What’s your comfort movie?” she asked as her head tilted to the side, a smirk toying to her lips. His cheeks flushed red as he finally sat beside her. He kept some space between them but his eyes were still connected with hers.

“Okay, maybe a little nerdy,” he mumbled as his gaze dipped towards her lips.

“I want to forgive you,” she forced out as she dropped her gaze towards her lap again, “But I can’t get the image of you and Sophie kissing out of my head. Like it felt like you were cheating on me but we ended things. An—And it’s not like we were dating or exclusive,” she mumbled.

“I wanted to be together but I kept feeling like if we were serious and I left then I would be like the worst boyfriend of all time. And then I did all of that. I’m so sorry, Y/N, I really am.” he explained softly.

“I’m sorry too,” she mumbled as she pressed her lips together for a moment. “I should’ve said something about my feelings sooner maybe you wouldn’t have gotten so scared,” she expressed watching his eyes widened slightly. “I really think we could’ve been great,” she muttered.

His heart jumped into his throat as he took a sudden breath, “Could’ve? Like—you don’t want to try again, for real this time?”

“I don’t know, Luke,”

“One more chance,” he mumbled as his gaze dipped towards her lips. He admired the soft curve of her lips and thought on how much he would love to kiss them again. He had no idea how he managed to spend so long without her lips on his. He doesn’t want to go this long ever again. 

“I don’t know if I can get the image out of my head,” she muttered as their eyes connected. He nodded as he chewed on his bottom lip for a second as he leaned back. He tilted his head back as he took a deep breath. 

“Will you go on a date with me?” he asked softly.

“What?” she asked softly. 

“Tonight, movie date. We’ll set up in here. Pick a movie and we’ll actually watch it or I’ll talk through the whole thing and we’ll start over,” he explained, a soft chuckle falling from his lips. She stared towards him suspiciously as she fought a grin forming to her lips. “We’ll start small because we’re used to this, right? So first date, here, right now,” 

She took a deep breath as she smiled softly, “Right now?” she asked while chuckling. He nodded encouragingly. “I just finished a run. I’m gross and sweaty. I—we can’t,” she let out as she stood up.

He immediately stood up, “Counter argument, you can shower in Markie’s bathroom and put on the clothes I have here in my closet,” he said while walking towards his closet and pulled out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt of hers. He handed them towards her as she laughed. 

“Fine,” she drew out the word for a few seconds as she stood up and began to walk out of the room. “What if I don’t come back,” she let out teasingly as she kept her hand on the door handle.

“You will,” he mumbled as he winked towards her. She rolled her eyes playfully as she slipped out of the bedroom.

She was laying on her bed with an ankle that was broken in two different places. Her season was done and she was angry. Everything was supposed to be great, her freshman season was supposed to be record breaking. At least that was the expectation put on her and now it didn’t matter. 

She was frustrated and constantly in pain despite the amount of medication that she was supposed to take. The medicine made her feel dizzy and she would rather be in pain that feel unlike herself.

There was a soft knock on her door and she didn’t say anything. She tilted her head back against the headrest while clenching her jaw. The door was slowly pushed open with Luke stepping inside. He was carrying an iced coffee that he was only half-convinced was correct.

“How’s it feeling?” he asked as he twisted the lock before he walked towards her. She didn’t say anything as she kept her gaze onto the TV screen beside her. He stood at the foot of the bed, glancing down towards the dark blue cast on her foot. “Baby,” 

“Please go home, Luke. I’m not in the mood,” she mumbled as her voice cracked slightly. His lips fell into a pout as he walked around the bed as he delciately rested the coffee onto the side table. “Luke, I’m serious,” she muttered, still avoiding his eye. 

“I know, but I’m not leaving,” he let out as he leaned down and delicately pressed his lips against the top of her head. He glided his hand across her cheek as he forced her gaze to meet his eye. “I know how much this fucking sucks. Let me take care of you,” he mumbled as he scanned her features. Her lips quivered slightly as she tilted her head back.

“I don’t get injured, I haven’t even pulled a muscle since I was like eight,” she let out as she looked deeply into his blue eyes. He glided his thumb across her cheek. “I don’t get injured,” she mumbled again as he pulled her towards him, pulling her into an embrace.

“I know,” he mumbled as he held her tightly to his chest, “You’ll have an amazing comeback,” he whispered against her hair. She pulled back rolling her eyes playfully. A soft smile formed to her lips, “There’s my girl,” he whispered as he took a hold of her cheek again. “What can I do?”

She took a deep breath, “Maybe you could help me get in the shower but that’s like the least sexiest thing of all time,” she let out jokingly. He rolled his eyes playfully. 

“You must think so little of me,” he let out teasingly before he leaned towards her kissing her softly. “I always think you’re sexy,” he mumbled against her lips, a teasing grin on his lips. She pushed him back rolling her eyes playfully,

“Okay, help me up,” she let out while laughing. He leaned down and took a hold of her body bridal style, “Not what I meant—okay—this works,” she laughed. 

“Come on beautiful,” he muttered as he carried her towards her bathroom.

Luke quickly emerged from his own bathroom while dramatically towel drying his hair. He was waiting for her to come back for their impromptu first date. He tossed the towel into his laundry bin before he walked back towards his bed. He adjusted the sweatpants on his frame. He reached to the candle on his night stand and immediately began to light it. He placed it back down before he spun around and walked towards his closet. 

He took a hold of one of his UMich hockey hoodies and instantly covered his frame. There was a soft knock on his door. His heart jumped into his throat as he walked towards it and carefully pulled it open. 

He met her gaze as he pulled the door opened wider, “She returns,” he muttered as he allowed her to step inside. 

“Almost didn’t,” she shot back as he shut the door behind her, twisting the lock in the process. He flipped the light switch so that only the candle and the soft lamp in the corner of his room illuminated the room. 

“Do you have any movie ideas,” he asked softly as he pointed towards the bed.

“I know what we shouldn’t watch,” she let out teasingly as she climbed onto the bed. Luke watched her sit in her spot, she had sat up while leaning her head against the headrest. He mimicked stabbing his chest as he climbed beside her, keeping some distance. Luke didn’t want to push her. All he wanted was to spend time with her again.

“You enjoyed it,” he offered as he tilted his head to the side to meet her gaze. Her gaze landed on his lips as she took a shaky breath. A soft hum fell from her lips as she trailed her gaze to meet his eye again. 

“Luke,” she let out softly. He hummed as his eyes flickered all over her features. “What’s gonna happen if you do get the call?” she asked softly, her body erupting in flames.

His eyes widened as he inched towards her. Hesitantly, raising his hand up. It ended up hanging up in limbo. He dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. “I don’t want to think about that,” he mumbled.

She took a deep breath while shaking her head. “Do you want serious or not, Luke? Because I’m not doing this with you unless I know,” she mumbled as she turned her body towards him.

“Of course I want serious,” he let out, “I need you,” he mumbled as he finally took a hold of her cheek. He looked deeply into her eyes, searching for some hidden answers between her dilated gaze.

“Promise me that if you get the call you won’t end it because you’ll be in Jersey,” she asked as she inched towards him. 

He leaned towards her pressing his lips against hers urgently. She parted her lips as she allowed his tongue to slip into her mouth. Luke instantly began to climb on top of her as she slowly laid onto her back. Her hands began to glide along the base of his neck, desperate for him. 

Luke pulled back, leaning his forehead against hers, “I promise,” he mumbled before he leaned down and began to trail his lips down her neck. Slowly, he began to suck and graze his teeth against the hot skin against her neck. A muffled hum fell from her lips as she tilted her head back allowing him more access of her skin. Her fingers ran through his curls.

“Luke,” she mumbled as she arched her back into him. He pulled back, staring towards the redden mark on her body. Usually, it was something he avoided doing but it’s been too long since his lips have been on her skin. He leaned down and kissed her urgently, his lips controlled the fast sloppy pace.

Her hands tugged at the shirt on his frame, craving the heat radiating from his skin over her frame. He pulled her bottom lip into his mouth sucking on it as he heard her breath unevenly. 

Tilting her head back, her lip popped out of his mouth. Before he began to trail wet kiss down her jawline, towards her neck. Sucking and bititng against her skin every so often. 

“This isn’t how first dates usually go, by the way,” she expressed breathlessly. He chuckled against the skin directly above her collarbone, sending an electric vibration all over her frame. 

He took a hold of her shirt and began to pull it up her frame, arching her back she allowed him to pull it over her head. He tossed it towards the floor as he bit his bottom lip as he scanned her frame. It was as if it was the first time he’s seen her like this. He tilted back, tugging his own shirt from his body towards the floor. 

She fought a grin forming to her lips as she trailed her manicured finger nail down the curve of his muscles. Tracing each line of his abs as she watched his body tense under his touch.

“We’re supposed to be starting over,” she mumbled as she continued to look over the muscle of his abs. He took a sharp breath as he slowly rolled away from her. Her eyes widned, “I didn’t say stop,” she pouted as she reached towards him. 

He chuckled as he tilted his head to the side to meet her eye, “You’re right, though,” he mumbled as they laid facing each other. He rested his hand onto her waist as he slowly pulled her towards him. Her hands continued to trace along his skin. “I don’t want to stop,” he muttered as he leaned towards her. Slowly, he pressed his lips against hers.

“Then don’t,” she mumbled against his lips. He chuckled before he pulled back slowly. Quickly, she took a hold of his cheeks and kissed him urgently.

“Baby, are you sure that all of this is okay?” he asked as he pulled back. His gaze flickered all over her features. Carefully, he dragged his thumb across her bottom lip.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life,” she mumbled before she desperately leaned towards him kissing him. 

~a little ways down the road~

Today she had an important conference game against the Rutger Knights. It was an early game, something that she was not used to. She lined up beside Dina and the rest of her team as they began to jog towards the net and back towards the base line. 

“Is Luke coming?” Dina asked as they began to set up one of their drills. Y/N took one of the volleyballs and began to toss the ball from one hand to another quickly. 

“He can’t, he’s got a game tonight, remember?” Y/N let out as she kept her gaze on the ball in her hands.

“Not until tonight, he should be here!” Dina begged. Y/N started lining up to serve the ball over the net. She launched it and it hit the top of the net before it barely collapsed onto the other side of the court. She cringed as she jogged towards the sidelines to start her stretches for the game. 

Dina’s serve was perfect like it usually was for her. She instantly jogged towards Y/N. “Did you even ask him to come to the game?” Dina asked while shifting her weight back and forth. Y/N jumped up and down several times. Before every game she always had anxiety that she would hurt herself again. 

It was as if there was an overwhelming surge of anxiety every time that she would line up for the game. Usually the feeling would disappear halfway through the first set but every game was the same. She took a deep breath as she began to roll her ankles, letting them pop slightly. 

“He told me that the timing wouldn’t work which is fine because I’ll see him tonight anyway,” she explained as she began to walk back towards the drill. 

For the next five minutes, the drill was going perfectly.

Every hit and ever serve she had went exactly how she needed them to go. It’s been a long time since she’s felt confident before a game.

Her teammates hit the ball towards her. Instantly, she leaped up into the air and smacked the ball hard towards the back left corner. It was barely in but her coach hollered at her; praising her. 

The ref blew the whistle sending her team off of the court. She groaned as she jogged back towards the sidelines. She stood on the side of the court, stretching her entire body as the other team started warming up. 

“Hey,” Dina mumbled as she stood in front of her. Y/N’s eyes widened as she took a deep breath.

“Yes D,” she mumbled while laughing awkwardly. 

“Turn around,” Dina said while smiling widely.

Y/N spun around to see Luke, his brother, and some of his friends standing near the stands. A sudden gasp fell from her lips as she instantly jogged towards him. Luke walked towards her, his arms were held outwards as he was waiting for her. She leaped into his arms as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he wrapped his arms around the center of her back.

“I thought—” she mumbled as she glided her fingers through his hair. “I’ve missed you so fucking much,” she whispered against his ear. 

“I’ve missed you too, baby,” he whispered as she pulled back, meeting his gaze. Leaning towards him, she kissed him urgently. He hummed against her lips as she glided her hands towards his cheeks. She pulled back as she opened her eyes to meet his gaze. 

“You have a game later,” she mumbled as he slowly lowered her to the ground. He kept his hands loosely on her frame as he looked deeply into her eyes.

“I don’t know how often I’ll get to see you play in person anymore so I had to come and see you,” he mumbled. She grinned widely before she leaned towards him and pressed her lips against his. She pulled away as she rested her hands onto his chest. “Also these guys have never been to a volleyball game so I dragged them along,” he explained.

She smiled as he guided her towards the three guys behind him. “Hey Y/N,” Jack muttered as he awkwardly held his hand up waving discreetly.

“Baby, this is Johnny and Dawson, this is Y/N, my girlfriend,” he explained. 

“Nice to meet you guys,” she offered as Luke kept a protective hold on her waist. “Hopefully we can put on a good game,” she expressed as she took deep breath. Luke leaned down and delicately pressed his lips to the top of her head. 

There was another loud whistle. “Go get ‘em, Laser,” he mumbled as she looked up and met his gaze. Slowly, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers briefly. 

“I love you,” she whispered before she jogged back towards her teammates. Luke stepped back, watching her jog away. Luke had a soft smile on his lips as he continued to watch her.

“Laser?” Jack asked while chuckling. 

“You’ll see,” Luke let out as he pointed towards the stands as he continued to admire his beautiful girl.

[lizziesangel]

hi lizzie, i just love your writing!! thank you for keeping us well fed! if you haven’t already, could you possibly write soft!rafe taking care of drunk reader? maybe it’s early into their relationship & this is the first time she’s seeing a softer side of him & maybe she’s a little embarrassed having to be taken care of but also secretly loves it!! 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

she/her, mid 20’s, maybe not rafe’s typical skinny blonde model type 🧎‍♀️

thank you, sweet angel! i hope you enjoy your fic!✨

the night had started out innocently enough. kie’s birthday party was in full swing, her backyard strung with twinkling fairy lights and filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. you weren’t much of a drinker, but tonight felt like an exception. kie had insisted you try her signature cocktail—something fruity and deceptively strong—and from there, the drinks had kept coming.

you’d been having a great time—kie and her friends always threw the best parties, and tonight was no exception. you’d been having a great time—a little too great of a time.

by midnight, you were feeling… light. maybe a little too light. your cheeks felt hot, your laugh was louder than usual, and walking in a straight line felt like a fun challenge. it wasn’t until the party started winding down that you realized you might have overdone it.

you leaned against the kitchen counter, your phone in hand, squinting at the screen. it was late, but you figured your parents wouldn’t mind a quick call to pick you up. the idea of stumbling into an uber with a stranger was less appealing now that the alcohol was hitting way harder than you anticipated. you dialed their number, listening to the rings, only to be met with a voicemail.

you frowned, dialing once more. still no answer.

then a text pinged through: "at a business party tonight. won’t be able to answer—call us tomorrow. we love you!"

you sighed, your thumb hovering over the screen. the party was getting just a bit too chaotic for your liking now, and the thought of getting some fresh air sounded amazing. it wasn’t like you lived far, anyway. ten minutes tops, you thought to yourself, tugging your jacket tighter around your shoulders.

“leaving already?” kiara asked, catching you by the door. her smile was bright.

“yeah, just tired,” you said, waving it off with a lopsided grin. “i’ll be fine. it’s a quick walk.”

she nodded, “text me when you’re home, okay?”

you nodded, giving her a thumbs-up before slipping out into the cool night air.

the silence outside was a welcome contrast to the noise you’d left behind. the streets were dimly lit, but familiar. you shoved your hands in your pockets and started down the sidewalk, humming softly to yourself, the buzz of the alcohol making everything seem a little less real.

the soft rumble of an engine broke the quiet night, the glow of headlights sweeping over the sidewalk as a familiar black SUV slowed down beside you. you glanced up, squinting against the light, and your heart skipped when the window rolled down to reveal rafe leaning slightly toward the passenger side.

“what the hell are you doing out here?” his voice was sharp, cutting through the stillness of the street. his brows were furrowed, a mix of confusion and something else—concern? “i thought your parents were coming to get you.”

you stopped, suddenly hyperaware of your slightly unsteady stance on the pavement. “they couldn’t,” you slurred, waving your hand dismissively. “they’re at some work thing. it’s just a ten-minute wa—i’ll be... fine.”

his jaw tightened, the muscle there twitching. “fine? you’re drunk, walking home by yourself in the middle of the night. do you even hear yourself right now?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, rafe leaned across and pushed the passenger door open. “get in. now.”

there was no arguing with the tone of his voice, not that you were in much of a position to resist. you hesitated for half a second before climbing into the seat, the leather cool against your legs. he waited until you were buckled in before pulling away from the curb, the tension in the car palpable.

the silence stretched for a moment before he spoke again, his voice low but firm. “next time, call me. don’t ever do that again. don’t walk home alone when you’ve been drinking.”

you blinked at him, your head still spinning a little from the alcohol. “rafe, it’s the outer banks, have you seen this island? t-there’s, like... no crime here. ever.”

he glanced at you, his lips pressing into a tight line. “i don’t care. what if something happened to you? what if you tripped, or someone—” he cut himself off, shaking his head as if the thought itself was unbearable. “just call me, okay? no excuses. i don’t care what time it is or where you are. i’ll come get you.”

something in his tone made your chest tighten, the weight of his words sinking in. he wasn’t just scolding you—he meant it.

“okay,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“good.” he glanced at you again, his features softening just a fraction. “because i don’t want to find you wandering around in the dark again. got it?”

“got it,” you murmured, biting back a smile as you sank into the seat.

the air in the car was thick with unspoken words, the quiet punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of rafe’s fingers tapping against the steering wheel. normally, rafe exuded this effortless, untouchable cool—sarcastic remarks, teasing smirks, and that air of confidence he wore like a second skin.

but tonight, something was different.

he wasn’t making jokes. he wasn’t brushing anything off. he looked serious, his jaw tight and his gaze focused on the road ahead as his hands gripped the wheel a little harder than necessary.

you stole a glance at him from the corner of your eye, your head leaning against the window. even with your buzzed haze, you could tell this wasn’t the rafe you were used to. this was… softer. more vulnerable, maybe.

when you noticed he wasn’t driving toward your place, your brow furrowed. “i don’t think this is the way to my house.”

“i know, baby,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “you’re not sleeping alone tonight. it’s not safe. you’re coming to mine.”

your mouth opened, but no sound came out. you hadn’t expected that. “rafe, i’m fine—”

“don’t,” he cut you off, glancing at you with a raised brow. “don’t argue. you’ve had too much to drink, you’re not thinking straight, and i’m not dropping you off so you’re home by yourself.”

“end of story.”

you stared at him, the weight of his words settling in your chest. he didn’t sound annoyed or inconvenienced. he sounded… protective. like he cared more than you ever thought he would. it was such a stark contrast to the laid-back rafe you’d come to know that it left you momentarily speechless.

as he turned into the long driveway leading to his family’s sprawling house, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“come on,” he said gently, holding out a hand to help you. “let’s get you inside.”

he led you upstairs with quiet confidence, his hand hovering near your back as if ready to steady you at any moment. the house was quiet, the distant hum of the air conditioning the only sound apart from your slightly uneven steps. when you entered his room, you hesitated, looking around the surprisingly clean space.

“sit,” he said gently, motioning to the edge of his bed. you obeyed, sinking into the soft comforter, and watched as he disappeared into the bathroom.

he came back a moment later with a cotton pad, a bottle of makeup remover, and a damp washcloth. “sarah leaves her stuff everywhere,” he said with a faint smirk, kneeling in front of you. “you can use this to take your makeup off. trust me, you don’t want to sleep in it.”

you blinked at him, surprised. “you… know about makeup remover?”

rafe gave a small shrug. “sarah’s made me her go-to errand boy enough times. i pick up things.” his voice was casual, but the way he handed you the cotton pad was almost… delicate, making you smile.

you swiped the pad across your face, your movements slow but steady, while rafe stayed there, crouched in front of you like he was waiting to catch you if you suddenly tipped over. when you were done, he handed you a glass of water and a toothbrush, his blue eyes meeting yours with quiet insistence. “drink all of this, and brush your teeth. trust me, you’ll thank me tomorrow.”

after finishing in the bathroom, you came back to find a neatly folded T-shirt and sweatpants sitting on the bed.

“you can change into these,” he said, standing a little awkwardly near the door. “they’ll be more comfortable than whatever you’re wearing.”

“thanks,” you said softly, picking up the clothes.

but when you tried to slip the his sweatpants on, your buzzed coordination made it nearly impossible. you fumbled, the fabric tangling around your legs as you tried to balance on one foot. “ugh,” you huffed in frustration.

rafe turned at the sound, his brows furrowing. “need help?”

you hesitated, your cheeks flushing. “uh, i think so,” you admitted quietly, feeling embarrassment creep up your spine.

he nodded, stepping closer, his expression careful and respectful. “okay,” he said simply, kneeling down. “just… hold on to my shoulder, and i’ll help you with these. don’t worry—i’m not looking.”

true to his word, he kept his eyes down, focusing only on pulling the sweatpants over your legs as you wobbled slightly, your hand gripping his shoulder for balance. his touch was steady and deliberate, not lingering even a second longer than necessary.

when he was done, he stood and stepped back, giving you space. “there,” he said, his voice softer now. “all set.”

“thanks,” you murmured, tugging at the hem of the shirt you were now wearing. it hung on you like a dress, the faint scent of cedar and something clean wrapping around you.

“you should lie down,” he said, pulling back the covers on his bed.

you blinked at him. “where are you sleeping?”

“i’ll, uh... take the couch,” he said automatically, but the words didn’t feel as confident as the rest of him.

“rafe,” you said, your voice a little steadier now. “this bed is huge. there’s plenty of space for both of us.”

his brows lifted slightly, and for a second, he looked like he might argue. but then he nodded, his jaw relaxing as he grabbed a pillow and placed it on the opposite side of the bed. “okay,” he said, his voice dropping to something quieter. “but don’t hog the covers.”

you laughed softly, slipping under the blanket as he did the same. The space between you felt safe—close enough to feel his warmth but far enough to respect boundaries.

as you settled in, you turned your head toward him. “hey?”

“yeah?” he replied, his voice low in the dark.

“thank you,” you whispered.

for a moment, he didn’t say anything. then his voice came, soft and genuine. “anytime.”

And with that, the quiet comfort of his presence lulled you to sleep, leaving you with the lingering thought that this side of rafe was something you could get used to.

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⟢ MASTERLIST

@maybankslover ⟢ @diorstarkey ⟢ @user28388727 ⟢ @jznyy ⟢

[justhereforthecupcakes]

@rosie-tyler Funny you mention Daniel spitting.

I actually wrote a very dark and sad AU fic in which Daniel spits in Terry’s face during the infamous arm lock moment in the 5x05 fight scene… with tragic results.

I’ve decided to post it below. Please be warned there are VERY dark themes and TW subjects. Otherwise, I hope those who read enjoy.

Something You’ll Never Forget Series

Title: Something You’ll Never Forget (I Know I Won’t)

Pairing: Daniel LaRusso/Terry Silver

Disclaimer: do you really need one at this point, or do you honestly believe I own the franchise?…. Why yes I do, write any checks to me please!

Warnings: N/C, Sexual Assault, Physical Assault, Edging, Forced Orgasm, Obsession, Anti-Asian slur, Terry Silver is his own warning, in fact Terry Silver is flat out delulu

Summary: Daniel makes the mistake of telling Terry Silver to blow him. So he does.

“You really ought to be careful what you ask for, Danny Boy.”

Daniel lay on the floor, naked below the waist, trembling and giving broken little whimpers from both the assault and being kept on edge for the last 20 minutes by Terry’s mouth and hands. He was straining oh so beautifully against the silver silk scarf binding his hands behind his back.

His cock straining even more.

Terry was glad he decided against blindfolding him; it would have heightened the sensations for his boy, but seeing the conflicting emotions of shame and arousal in his expressive brown eyes was far more rewarding.

They had fought, ending with Terry trapping Daniel’s arms with his own, taunting him.

“You never had the strength, did you?”

“Blow me, asshole!” Daniel had spat out, before spitting in his face.

He also never did learn to watch his mouth…

He’d struggled at first, alternating between panic and anger, pleading and cursing at him to stop; then the tears followed. But eight minutes in, the anger and tears subsided as Daniel gave up fighting. Resigned to Terry’s ministrations, his breaths now coming in delicious little gasps, and moans.

He loved the fire in his boy, but Submission was a damn good look for him.

Terry’s pants were definitely much tighter than they were 20 minutes ago. He ignored it, though. That wasn’t exactly easy considering Daniel’s thighs were quivering in the most provocative manner — if he only knew just how badly Terry was tempted to take a bite of his inner thigh and truly mark him.

For now…

Daniel let out a choked moan as he massaged his balls, lips teasingly brushing over his cock.

Oh he was going to enjoy hearing his boy cry out in ecstasy when he finally let him come.

But not yet.

He would make him beg next time - and there would be a next time, giving Daniel this small taste has without a doubt ensured that.

Perhaps he’d even take a hand to his backside for his insolence, as adorable as it was. Administer blow after blow until his cheeks were glowing.. until he was deliciously squirming and writhing in his lap, begging for Terry’s forgiveness… for mercy…

But, he didn’t want to totally break him just yet. Breaking him too quickly would have him running or fighting him even harder.

He knew his boy — he’ll always be his boy, no matter how old he got — and he was a stubborn thing. Regardless of how many years had been lost between them, he knew not to rush him. Daniel would need time to accept his feelings if he was to come to him on his own.

Besides, this was meant to be a gift, an incentive, a little nudge in the right direction…

… Still, his boy did need a firm touch. He needed to learn.

And Terry just couldn’t help himself.

“Do you have any idea how you look right now?”

A gentle kiss to his swollen cock.

“Has it ever been this good with your wife?”

Daniel remained as stony-faced as he could manage in his position.

Admittedly, it was an unfair question to ask — and an irrelevant one.

The one that mattered…

“Has a man ever touched you like this before?”

Because he needed to know. And because he’d seen Lawrence and especially that sl**t-eyed Toguchi sniffing around his boy, like Daniel was a bitch in heat.

Well, he supposed, in a way, he is.

And Barnes… well, he got the message.

The grimace on Daniel’s face was enough to confirm he hadn’t. And the elation it brought him. It meant Terry would be his first in so many ways.

God, it meant he’d stayed faithful.

That alone earned Daniel his reward.

He grasped him tightly then, sealing his mouth over the head and giving him firm strokes; his other hand teasing his perineum — that did the trick.

Daniel let out a strangled cry, involuntarily thrusting his hips and himself further into Terry’s mouth. It wasn’t long until Daniel threw his head back, letting out a guttural moan as he came hard.

Watching him fall apart and completely come undone truly was a sight to behold. Something he’ll never forget.

And neither will Daniel.

Underneath the flush from his post-coital daze, he looks shellshocked.

Understandable; his boy had never experienced this kind of pleasure before.

Daniel was no doubt experiencing the full onslaught of the feelings and desires he had kept buried all these years, the ones Terry had just forced him to confront.

It was long overdue. Terry had accepted his feelings, and now it’s time for Daniel to do the same.

Time for Daniel to come back to where he belonged.

He gently takes his face in his hands and kisses him before he unties him and leaves; pocketing the silk scarf.

It won’t be long before he’ll finally have the pleasure of seeing what his beautiful boy will look like riding his cock.

Until then, the scarf that had touched Daniel’s beautiful hands was now wrapped around his cock. And he imagined his boy would feel just as smooth around him.

So he waited for his boy to come to him.

And waited.

But his boy never came.

No, the next knock on his door were two LAPD officers with a warrant for his arrest.

The charge: sexual assault of Daniel LaRusso.

He made bail, of course.

But to add insult to injury, he was almost immediately served with a Temporary Restraining Order barring any contact with Daniel and his family, and instructing him to stay a minimum distance of 100 feet away for the next 30 days.

How he managed to obtain one so quickly… The judge listed on the order was part of LaRusso’s little country club, no doubt.

He’d have her charged with collusion and disbarred.

GODDAMN LITTLE PRICK!

Even if he wasn’t convicted and placed on the sex offender list, the charges alone would severely hamper, if not totally derail his plans.

LaRusso, you little bastard… you fucking tease!

He planned this.

Somehow he’d planned this and once again Terry had underestimated him.

He would have given him the world.

Okay, Danny Boy. Okay.

Now the real pain begins.

Title: Breathe

Sequel to: Something You’ll Never Forget (I Know I Won’t)

Pairing: Daniel LaRusso/Terry Silver

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS, murder, strangulation, rape, stalking, obsession, suicide, Terry Silver is his own warning, in fact Terry Silver is flat out delulu

Summary: After the events of “Something You’ll Never Forget (I Know I Won’t),” Terry makes bail… and now… the real pain begins.

He wept softly as he rocked Daniel’s too still body in his arms…

He understood, too late, his boy simply wanted to know if he mattered more to him than Cobra Kai.

This had been a test to see if he would choose what mattered most, and he’d failed.

He’d been waiting for him at Miyagi-Do.

He just wanted to… he doesn’t know… but he needed Daniel to know.

Terry needed Daniel to know that for all the things he’d ever experienced… Viet Nam… the fear… the trauma…

Never had he experienced heartbreak like that at the hands of Daniel LaRusso.

His Danny Boy…

There were moments he was sure Daniel was pure Cobra, more than he or Kreese ever were.

He thought he’d never been more sure than the moment he learned what his boy was capable of: Orchestrating his arrest, the restraining order… setting everything he had worked to rebuild to burn to ash once more.

All of his patience and planning… all his years of therapy… gone with one look from his boy… a single threat of walking away…

But when he came out of the shadows, and Daniel jumped back, and ordered him to leave — screamed for him to get out.

Out of nowhere his anger dissipated; instead, Terry broke down and fell to his knees, grabbing Daniel around his waist, begging him… “don’t make me go, don’t push me away, please”…. never had he willingly shown such weakness and vulnerability in his life…

… and still Daniel tried pulling away��� panicking and screaming and tripping them both to the ground with Terry on top of his back…

“DON’T TOUCH ME! DON’T TOUCH ME!”

The cruelty in his boy.

And, God help him, his anger has returned and turned into an all consuming rage. All he could think was how much he wanted him to hurt! To make him suffer for the way he had deliberately made Terry suffer, and break him for it.

Because Terry was suffocating and he couldn’t breathe…

So he wouldn’t breathe…

He wound the silver scarf around the swanlike throat and pulled tight… tighter…

"Terr—" he'd choked out, before his eyes rolled back and he finally went still under him.

And he was done waiting, done drawing this out. No, this was pleasure for Terry and pain for Daniel.

“I told you not to play with fire,” he voice shook in fury, as he undid his belt and pants, before roughly yanking down Daniel’s, “didn’t I?”

He took one moment to appreciate the enticing view, smoothing a hand over the cheeks he could only dream about over the decades; now a reality in front of him. Any ounce of regret he might have felt at their first time ruined by fury and blood was overtaken and consumed by that decades old darkness that had been caged too long.

There was no going back.

He took that one moment before spitting into his palm, and greasing his cock with the barest amount, because he didn’t deserve lube… he deserved every second of the torture he was about to endure…

And he shoved in, uncaring of the damage to delicate flesh and the blood that followed — satisfied even.

“You used me!” thrust “You used me for a trophy” thrust “and then walked away” thrust “without a backward” thrust “glance!”

His hands yanked upward on the silk material, pulling the scarf tighter, while pushing down between Daniel’s shoulders blades. Daniel couldn’t cry out, could barely breathe, body twitching in agony; didn’t matter - he knew he was in excruciating pain, while he was in utter bliss.

He was so very right after all… his boy was as smooth as silk on the inside… Smooth as velvet… He never knew people actually saw stars when they came.

He let his breathing come back under control… but his hands… were still pulling on the scarf around his boy…

… who was laying too still…

NO.

He jerked his hands away from the scarf and turned his form onto his back, and frantically tried to give the breath he'd stolen from him back… mouth-to-mouth… chest compressions… mouth-to-mouth… chest compressions…

BREATHE!

God, Danny - sweetheart - please breathe…

He tried listening for a heartbeat, but the horrible wail that tore from him drowned out the sound that wasn’t there.

He simply dragged his boy up into his arms, silently crying as he rocked him, whispering apologies and begging forgiveness to unhearing ears.

He doesn’t know how long he sat there, doesn’t know how long it was before he was discovered by Lawrence, Toguchi and (regrettably) Daniel’s children.

He knows their presence is the only reason he woke up in a hospital three days later, miraculously still alive… in pain (though it would never come close to what he felt when Daniel’s body was ripped away from his arms)… but he was still alive…

Just another regret.

A regret he remedied when he plead guilty, and requested the death penalty. He’s not the first convicted murderer in history to do so; but it still sent shockwaves through the Valley.

But he didn’t do this out of any sense of nobility… not even because he deserved to die for what he did… no, again he was selfish - he did this to see his boy that much sooner.

The only solace he had found through this tragedy was when he belatedly realized that his name was the last thing the love of his life ever breathed.

And so he was sentenced to death by lethal injection.

But he was given a surprise visit by Samantha on the day of his execution.

She didn’t want his apologies, she wanted to know why.

“Nothing I could tell you would ever make sense, nor should it. All I can tell you is that I wanted to believe I could change. I tried to pretend I wasn’t a monster, but I am. And your father… despite what I’ve done, I love him.”

And he loved me.

But he left that unspoken. She would never accept that. Never be ready for that.

Like father, like daughter.

Predictably she reacted in shock and denial, but he held her gaze and allowed her to see the naked and undeniable truth from him. The rage was still there, but so too was the quiet realization and acceptance of his admission.

“I’ve never felt more pain than the moment I realized what I’d done. I’ll never forgive myself for it.

“You don’t have to forgive me. But, Samantha — don’t let this consume you or your family like it did me.

“For over 30 years I’ve thought of nothing else but all the ways my life could have been different if I had just made a different choice - the right choice. I wanted something beautiful, and I had the chance to have a future with him… but now, if I could go back and change everything, I’d go back to the start of it all… and I’d kill Kreese. And me.”

That surprised her.

“So that you, your dad, and your family could live a happy life. Safe.”

She sat, unsure of how to take that. “But you can’t.”

“No,” he admitted, “But you will be safe from now on, Samantha. I’ll be going soon, and I’m taking Cobra Kai with me. It’s already done. It’s only a matter of time - they just don’t know it. And one day, you and your family can stop looking over your shoulder. It’s the one unselfish thing I can do.”

He watched her, the daughter they never had, leave knowing she would be safe.

He briefly wondered what she would do with the money he was leaving her and her brother… how she would react when they discovered they were among the beneficiaries, but no point in dwelling.

And when the guard came for him, he didn’t cry, he didn’t have second thoughts, he did not beg for mercy. Not even as they strapped him down. Not even when they inserted the I.V.

This was Mercy, unintentional as it were.

Daniel was waiting for him on the other side.

And he would find in death what he could not find in life — Love.

He was still smiling as they depressed the plunger.

Title: The Roots Are Strong

Sequel: Breathe (Third in the Something You’ll Never Forget series)

Pairing: Daniel LaRusso/Terry Silver

Characters: Daniel LaRusso, Terry Silver, Johnny Lawrence, Samantha LaRusso, Anthony LaRusso, Amanda LaRusso, Miguel Diaz, Carmen Diaz, Robby Keene, John Kreese, Kim De Eun, Chozen Toguchi, Mike Barnes.

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS, death penalty, references to murder both past and present

Summary: Terry is executed, and everyone deals with the aftermath.

Samantha was curled next to Miguel on the couch, Anthony passed out on the other side of her, his head on her lap and a protective hand on his shoulder. He had progressively grown even thinner over the last six months.

Even Johnny had tried to get him to eat more — couldn’t help it. Kid was starting to look as skinny as his dad during his pencil thin days of high school… Always had to fight the urge to shove a sandwich down the little twerp’s throat back then.

Amanda had seemed to age ten years. A heavily pregnant Carmen was by her side doing her best to provide comfort.

The rest of Miyagi-Do/Eagle Fang were scattered about, keeping watch. Standing guard.

It was happening. Right now.

Johnny, Mike, and Chozen were present to make sure the bastard was dead and gone. No tricks this time.

And Robby.

There was no stopping him.

“He was there for me and I stabbed him in the back - I never even got to apologize… I need to be there. I need to see that asshole pay. He’s the reason for all of it.”

Johnny nodded.

“Ok, you’re 18 now. You can decide. But if it gets to be too much, then we’re out. No judgment. And no questions. Ok?”

It was incredibly anti-climatic.

But the son-of-a-bitch still died smiling.

Whatever. Hell will wipe it off his face the second he lands there.

They switched off the monitor once he’d flatlined and closed the curtain.

And that was that.

Afterwards, everyone departed, and it felt like a fucked up version of everyone walking out of a Sunday matinee.

Show’s over… time to go home…

But the son-of-a-bitch was gone.

That was one down as far as Johnny was concerned. There was still a fight left for what remained of Cobra Kai and Kim Da-Eun.

Or so he had thought.

Their demise had been anticlimactic as well.

Kreese met his end in prison the day of Silver’s execution.

A shank to the jugular and no one was talking.

No one cared.

With Kreese and Silver gone, Kim Da Eun had simply packed up and left.

If she planned to continue her grandfather’s legacy, it wouldn’t be in the Valley. And that’s all that mattered.

When Silver’s lawyer reached out the day after his execution, all of them were prepared for a battle beyond the grave. Something they should have seen coming.

No one expected he’d named Johnny and the LaRusso kids among the beneficiaries of his will.

They still expected some kind of trap. A deal with the devil. Maybe a cursed rabbit’s foot or something.

“To Samantha LaRusso and Anthony LaRusso, daughter and son of Daniel LaRusso, I leave a total sum of $200 million dollars to be split equally between both parties.”

He hadn’t counted on Anthony being the one to explode. He had been so quiet and shut down the whole time. But they all knew it was coming sooner or later.

He popped out his chair and almost up ended the desk before Johnny and Chozen were able to subdue him.

“Does he think money can fix this?! NO! I don’t want his goddamn money. I want my dad back!”

Amanda and Chozen had ushered him and Samantha out of the office.

“To John Lawrence, I leave in its entirety the title and brand ownership of Cobra Kai, LLC, to include its dojos—“

The rest he’d left to various charities and anti-bullying organizations, blah blah blah.

Douche.

In the end, they had each taken the inheritance.

Sam and Anthony had no clue where to go from here, though.

But Cobra Kai was now officially his. He knew what had to be done.

He’d retired the moniker and sold most of the dojos — there’d been a lot. He made a decent sized fortune, more than enough to secure a house — a real house — for his family, close enough to the LaRussos… he could afford to send all three of the kids to college if that’s the route they took...

Cobra Kai was gone.

And in its place stood Miyagi-Do — now officially co-owned by Chozen, Sam and Anthony, with Amanda acting as trustee until they reached 18; and with Johnny and Chozen as head instructors.

Carmen and Shannon managing the finances and accounts.

Finally.

The head of the snake had been cut off.

It was over.

For Cobra Kai. For Kreese. For Silver.

For Daniel.

But Miyagi-Do would live on, and be here long after they were gone.

All of them were going to be okay.

Because the roots are strong, so the tree will survive.

A/N: Terry did NOT see Daniel when he passed over. Nope. He woke up in his own Hell Loop losing the 85 tournament and watching Daniel walk away, smiling, over and over and over…

oh, sex? actually, can you just beat me up homoerotically so i can go home and jerk off about it later?

[lokidjarin-7567]

I Hate It Here

Kang Dae-ho x Reader After joining a mysterious game of life and death, you find solace in the company of another player, one so vibrant and optimistic it draws your mind from the horrors that await you. fem!reader, fluff, usual content warnings for Squid Game, guns, language, death etc, obvious spoilers for Squid Game season 2, mostly edited, not perfectly accurate to the episodes but close enough 5k words Hi all! If anyone else is like me, I've fallen down the rabbit hole of Squid Game since watching season two, and wrote this piece on my fav this season! I still have a poll up on my page for what other characters I should write about (accidentally set it to a week rather than a day oops), so if you have any other requests, drop a vote there, and specific suggestions in my comments or asks if you have any. This also happens to be the longest fluff piece I've ever written, so I hope its ok! Will add another chapter if people like. Enjoy <3 TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3

You hadn’t even considered that the weird guy who started shouting before the first game started would be telling the truth. That you could actually die here for money, or for entertainment, or for whatever the twisted fuckers who brought you here wanted. You figured he was just vying for attention, or trying to scare you all into backing out. Then you heard a gunshot.

After that moment, you followed every piece of advice he shouted out, satisfied he knew something you didn’t. You made it over the finish line, shocked and traumatised, thanks only to hiding behind someone a lot taller than you. You immediately collapsed on the dirt panting with exhaustion, a few tears falling from your eyes. What had you gotten yourself into?

You were relieved when Player 456 called for a vote to end the games, and even more relieved at the realisation that his number was only a little after your own. He was called to vote first, red X marking his jersey, and you followed suit just after him, lucky as Player 452 that you could get your voting over and done with quickly. He smiled at you, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment, and you returned the favour, moving to stand beside him. You quietly celebrated with him when a player chose your side, and you watched as he tried to talk to the remaining people, explaining how he’d played before. Then you consoled him when it didn’t work. It came down to the last vote, the stress almost too much to bear, but as Player 001 was adorned in blue light from his selection, you realised you were stuck here, and you were close to crying again.

Player 456 automatically took you under his wing. There seemed to be another player that he knew, so you sat with them as you ate the provided food, dejected at the outcome, but grateful to at least have found some allies. You were trying to ask a few subtle questions about the game, but other players kept approaching your group. You shrunk back a little, avoiding the attention that came with being around the previous winner of the games, listening as people spoke of their admiration for him, and grilled him for information as to what was happening next.

You hadn’t noticed at first - a voice speaking from behind you - and honestly, you didn’t want to turn around, still feeling shy and awkward. Eventually, though, the crowd dissipated, and the source of the voice jumped down from one of the bunks. He was tall and lean, shoulder length hair pulled into a half-up half-down style, strays falling around his temples and framing his face. His smile was infectious, carrying from his lips to his eyes, which were rich brown in colour and full of joy and enthusiasm. You were transfixed by him as he introduced himself as Kang Dae-ho, quickly bonding with the man Player 456 knew thanks to their shared military history. He was the antithesis of you - so outgoing, so enthusiastic, so full of optimism. Even down to the blue circle that adorned his uniform; on most, it was a bad look, voting to continue at the risk of others, but on him, it seemed courageous.

His chattiness was as contagious as his smile, and as he joined your group to eat, you found yourself immersed in conversation with him: about the game, about the other players, about the members of your little makeshift crew. Even watching on and cheering together as Player 001 took down a few bullies in front of everyone. He was comfortable to be around. A welcome distraction that helped you forget where you were, or what you might have to do as the days passed.

And it was working. Until, after a while, the conversation lulled momentarily, and you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting to darker places. What the game might be. What it would involve. If it would ever really get as brutal as Gi-hun said it might…

You felt a gentle nudge on your arm, snapping you out of your spell at the sound of your name falling from Dae-ho’s lips.

“You good?” He muttered quietly, a hint of concern on his face. You had been talking for a few hours now, and you had done everything in your power to keep up your positive front, to pretend you were happy to be here but it was fading fast.

“Yeah, I’m just…”

“Scared?” A sigh of relief fell from your lips.

“Yeah.” He smiled softly, glancing around to see where the others were, before leaning in closer.

“Me too, honestly. Just trying not to show it…” There was a sincerity in his voice, a vulnerability that you could tell wasn’t fake. He wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better.

“Dae-ho…” you muttered, gesturing to the blue badge that signified his vote, “why did you choose to stay?” He shrugged, glancing back at the crowd of people who were starting to prepare for lights out.

“I need the money, and honestly, when I voted, I didn’t know anyone here. I figured it’s not like I’m personally killing anyone. No harm no foul, right? It’s just the way a soldier thinks, I guess. You don’t know who you’re shooting, just that they’re in the way of your victory. But now…” he paused a beat, his eyes darting over to where Jung-bae and Gi-hun were sitting, deep in conversation, before landing on you, eyes scanning your face with a curious intensity. “I’ll do everything to keep my team alive.” You couldn’t help but laugh coldly. The sentiment was sweet, sure, but there were no guarantees.

“From what Gi-hun told us, it might not be a team game. It could be something completely out of our control…”

“I’m hopeful!” He exclaimed, the optimistic, puppy-like demeanour back as he grinned at you.

“I’m glad someone is.” The intercom informed you that it was 10 minutes until lights out, and you couldn’t help but let out a shuddering breath. You weren’t looking forward to that - trying to sleep in a dark room filled with hundreds of people you didn’t know. Desperate people.

“Let’s find our beds for the night?” Dae-ho prompted, standing and offering his hand to help you up. You took it, smiling at him thankfully and glancing around for the other members of your team, palm feeling cold when his touch left it. “Look, there are two next to each other just above where Gi-hun has set his things down. We can bunk close together so you know you’re safe. I’m a light sleeper!’ His constant proactivity in making you feel safe and comfortable was warming your heart, but simultaneously causing a bout of nausea and anxiety that rose from your gut. One of you might die tomorrow in these twisted games. He would betray you in a heartbeat to keep himself alive, regardless of his sentiments. And despite that, you're already starting to trust him.

He was right though; he was a light sleeper. A few hours in and you hadn’t slept at all yet, fear clouding every corner of your mind, and the only thing soothing you was the soft purr of his snores. Eventually, you couldn’t help but sit upright, a quiet but frustrated sigh escaping your lips as your hands ran across your face and through your hair. His voice muttered your name, and you glanced over in shock to see him slowly sitting up in his bed, his tired eyes raking over you with concern.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You pulled your legs to your chest, nodding at him before resting your head onto your knees.

“Can’t sleep.” You muttered as a sorry excuse of an explanation, but it seemed to convey what you really meant, his head cocked in worry.

“Can I help at all?” You opened your mouth to reply, to tell him that you'd be ok, but he continued before you had a chance. “Maybe you should try falling asleep before me. I’m going to be awake for a while now anyway, I can keep watch.” You were going to protest, to tell him to rest up and keep his energy for tomorrow, but honestly… it might help you. Just knowing he was keeping an eye out could get you a few hours of rest at least.

“…would that be ok?” You asked timidly, but he nodded with his now signature enthusiasm.

“Of course! I told you I’d protect you, I’m keeping my end of the bargain.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Please, just get comfortable.” Your body instinctively laid down as close to him as possible, only the bars between the bunks separating you, curling up on the small bed and settling in. You closed your eyes, exhausted beyond belief, but the moment you did, panic overtook you. It was irrational, sure, but before, when you couldn’t see him, you could hear him snoring so you knew he was still there. Now, it was dead silent. Your arm reached forwards instinctively, avoiding the metal posts to meet the soft fabric of his uniform, fingers latching on securely. You blushed at your own response to fear, grateful to the dark surrounding you, but as you felt him shuffle closer, allowing you a firmer grip, all of your nerves dissipated, your body finally giving in to exhaustion.

You woke to loud classical music and the intercom announcing that the next game will be starting shortly. You blinked your eyes open, groaning already at the aches forming in your body and the speed of your heartbeat at the thought of the horrors today might bring. But then, you felt a hand softly close around your forearm, giving a gentle squeeze of encouragement. You glanced down to see where your hand was still clasped around the edge of his T-shirt, the back of your fingers grazing the warm skin of his stomach, his own arm draped atop yours from where he lay on your side. You blushed furiously, untangling your arm from his and sitting up as casually as you could manage, rubbing the back of your neck in an attempt to hide your red cheeks.

“Hey…” he muttered sleepily, shifting to sit up too, and your body automatically turned to him, as though after just a few hours of knowing him, you were programmed to seek his voice out and follow it. “Remember what I said, ok? Stick by me today. If it’s Dalgona like Gi-hun said, pick triangle, and if not, we’ll work it out.” You couldn’t do much but nod, nerves and fear clouding your senses. You just focussed on putting one foot in front of the other, climbing out of bed and lining up with the rest of the players in the centre of the room. When the guards starting walking, you followed wordlessly until you reached the game room, the only thing keeping you from breaking down was the knowledge that Dae-ho was right behind you.

Gi-hun’s confused expression when you entered the room confirmed everything you needed to know - you wouldn’t be playing Dalgona today. However, Dae-ho’s optimism from the day before was well-placed, as the speakers announced that players should arrange themselves into teams of five. It was an easy pick. At some point during the night or morning, Gi-hun had reconciled with Player 001, and he honestly seemed like a solid addition to the team. He had physical skill - you’d seen that during the fight - and he had a seriousness about him that made you feel confident.

They announced the games, and your heart dropped. As the only girl on the team, you knew they’d ask you to play gonggi, and it just wasn’t something you’d played. As the inevitable question came, you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry, I never had anyone to teach it to me.” Your heart broke at the disappointment on your teammates faces.

“I can play gonggi.” Dae-ho piped up from beside you, and you breathed out in relief.

“An ex-marine playing gonggi?” You heard Jung-bae pipe up, and you couldn’t help but frown at his comment. You could immediately hear the pride drain from Dae-ho’s voice as he replied, and you glared at the older man, hoping to quietly convey your disappointment in him.

“I have four older sisters, so I played with them sometimes.” Jung-bae started to backtrack and encourage him, but you couldn’t help but think about why Dae-ho felt like he had to defend himself. It was such an endearing trait - a softer side that you valued and trusted in an ally - and yet he was explaining why it was ok to be good at a kid’s game. It made you feel sad for him. You interrupted Jung-bae’s forced sentiment slightly harshly.

“I’m good at flying stone. I used to bet the boys in my class that I could beat them and won every time.��� Jung-bae looked as though he was going to say something, but Dae-ho spoke up first with a wide smile that calmed your nerves.

“Perfect! We’re lucky to have an expert with us. What about the rest of you?”

The rest of the team decided their roles quickly, Jung-bae sarcastically stating if he couldn’t play flying stone like he wanted, ddakji was his next best choice. You just shrugged. Gi-hun settled on jegi, and Player 001 seemed happy with what was left to him, so now, all you had to do was wait.

The first race was awful. It felt like a car crash you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from as the second player in their team missed in flying stone over and over and over again. Your team were discussing strategies based on how they were doing, how missing the stone eats up time as you have to fetch it, but you just felt a lump form in the back of your throat. If you failed this, all of you would die. The timer hit zero as he finally struck the stone, and you ripped your eyes away just in time, covering your ears and staring at the floor as the sound of gunshots ricocheted throughout the room. You eventually opened your eyes as the pink guards carried large gift boxes into the room that you could only assume were coffins for the dead, and turned to glance at Dae-ho in horror. He wasn't looking at his surroundings, practicing his part of the game with some small stones, but there was a noticeable shake in his hands that hadn’t been there before.

It was hours before it was your turn, and you were already exhausted before even playing. Watching everyone else, being so invested in each and every person’s survival, constantly thinking about how you could improve on their methods for their own attempt - it had taken its toll. And now, it was finally time for you to do it. You looped your arms around Jung-bae’s and Dae-ho’s, ankles already bound together, and he gave you one last smile of encouragement before you set off. You moved in accordance to Gi-hun’s shouts, reaching the ddakji station before you knew it. It only took two attempts and it flipped, the excitement of your group palpable as you continued to the next game. Your turn.

Your hands were shaking as you took the stone from the guard, almost so much that you dropped the damn thing. You tried to breathe deeply, to calm yourself down, but your mind wouldn’t stop returning to that first race, to the player who missed over and over…

Warm hands surrounded your own, snapping you out of your thoughts and grounding you. Dae-ho spoke, and you looked up at him, fear etched into your features.

“Breathe. Remember how you used to do it. You’re just on the playground winning a bet. Steady your hands, breathe, and throw.” You nodded along as he spoke, breaths returning to normal just long enough to compose yourself, crouching slightly. Like a skipping stone. As it left your hand, you cursed quietly. You were worried that it was too high, not quite the right angle, but by some miracle, it caught the top of the stone, toppling it just with the lightest touch. You could’ve cried as the Circle guard raised his hands above his head to mimic the shape on his mask, relieved that you wouldn’t be at fault if your team didn’t make it.

Dae-ho’s arm was like a vice as you made your way to the next game, his own nerves now evident. He gathered the gonggi in his hand, feeling the weight of them, and you and Player 001 leant slightly away from him to give him the space he needed. Jung-bae started to speak, throwing some generic words of encouragement his way, but you shushed him quickly. He’d told you earlier that he concentrated better when it was silent, so you intended to make sure that he had the conditions he needed. You watched as he let out a breath in preparation, then began, moving with speed and accuracy that left you in awe. As he held out his fist to the guard, and they approved, you couldn’t help but quickly wrap your arm around him, a short celebration before moving to the next section.

It took Player 001 a long time to complete the Spinning Top. You couldn’t help but flinch every time he failed, glancing up at the time in worry as he cursed himself out over and over. Gi-hun set him straight, calming him down quickly and reminding him of everything at risk, and he finally succeeded. The last portion of the race passed in a blur of seconds, Gi-hun quickly completing Jegi with the help of Player 001 before stumbling over the finish line, unexpected tears falling from your eyes in relief. You had actually made it, all of you had…

Gunshots rung out in the room, and you screamed, instinctively ducking down, your hands flying to your ears. It wasn’t until your heartbeat returned to normal and the guards started to unlock your ankle restraints that you realised Dae-ho had wrapped himself around you, one arm pulling your face into his chest, your head nestled tightly in his hand and folding the rest of himself around you. You tried to move, legs now free, but he wasn’t budging. You could feel his heart hammering against his chest, breaths shaky as they fanned against your neck. You pulled your hands from your ears, pressing them to his chest and gently easing him back to standing. That seemed to snap him back to reality a little, but he looked confused, still shaking.

“Hey, Dae-ho…” you muttered, and his eyes finally settled on you, looking like a deer caught in headlights, “it’s ok, they didn’t shoot us. We’re alive, we’re ok…” You could almost see the cogs turning in his mind as you said that, the confusion and fear slowly giving way to relief, breaths steadying as his eyes frantically scanned your body for signs of injury.

“We’re ok?” He whispered, and you nodded.

“We’re all good. Nobody got hurt. We did it.” He nodded, the gravity of what you said finally hitting him. He smiled, but his eyes still looked far away, like he wasn’t quite grounded yet. “Let’s go back to the dorms, yeah? Then vote to get the fuck out of here.” He just nodded again, and you led him from the room, following the rest of your team, who kept glancing back at him with a concerned expression.

By the time you got back to the main room, though, he was back to his usual enthusiastic self, excitedly discussing voting plans with the rest of your team, and encouraging everyone on their prowess in their individual games. Despite your victory, it seemed that you all wanted to leave, happy with the money as it was and wanting a fresh start outside of this hell. But as the voting commenced, it didn’t take long for the O side of the tally to tick up, and by the time you and Gi-hun got to vote - the last out of everybody - it didn’t matter. The circles had already won.

Dinner was a silent affair: Gi-hun, Player 001 and yourself eating quietly while Dae-ho kept guiltily glancing to where Jung-bae had extradited himself, his traitorous blue badge burning your eyes as though it was a bright neon sign. Eventually, he stood, pulling the older man almost by the scruff of his neck over to where the rest of you were and having a quiet, frustrated conversation with him. You sighed as Dae-ho dragged him to stand in front of you all, looking at you expectantly as Jung-bae just looked sheepish. You sighed. No point losing an ally over something you couldn’t change now.

“It’s not like you voting to leave would have changed a whole lot, we were outvoted by more than one person…” The subsequent onslaught of thanks almost made you want to take it back, but the joy and pride in Dae-ho’s face made it worth it.

While you pretty much knew each other’s names already, he decided this would be a good time for everyone to introduce themselves properly, starting with himself. He explainied that his name meant ‘big tiger’, and it made you giggle. It was fitting - a hard and brutal exterior when needed, but ultimately a softy beneath it all. You heard everyone else’s, finally learning that Player 001 was called Young-il, just like his number, but when it got to you, you had to explain that you weren’t sure what your name meant.

“We could always give it a meaning,” Gi-hun piped up, and you laughed.

“Like what?”

“Maybe… good at throwing.” You laughed again as his face crumpled in shame at his own attempt, the others chiming in to better him.

“Loud snorer!” Jung-bae exclaimed, earning an offended ‘hey’ thrown in his direction.

“Good teammate?” Young-il said, and Gi-hun scoffed.

“That one’s just lazy! What about pretty hair?”

“You don’t name someone after their hair!”

“Kind angel.” Dae-ho said proudly, and you honestly felt close to tears as everyone else stopped bickering to agree with him. You smiled thankfully as his eyes met your’s, laced with warmth and care. Maybe it would all be ok if you stayed a little longer.

"Ok, big tiger, kind angel it is."

“When we survive the next game and finally get to leave this place…” You had been talking for well over an hour now, and you had given up correcting his ‘when’ statements to ‘if’. His optimism was so sweet it hurt your teeth, but if it helped him cope with being in here, then they could rot for all you cared. “What do you want to do?”

“Well, I want to pay off my debt first…”

“Obviously.” He said with a laugh. “I mean fun stuff.” You smiled sadly, staring at your shoes.

“Honestly? I’ve been in survival mode for so long now I haven’t thought about fun stuff since I was young.” You paused a beat, glancing back up at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bum you out.” He just shrugged.

“That’s ok, I know what you mean. But you should. Think of something fun, I mean. Might help you get through this.” You couldn’t fault his logic, but it took you a minute before you could remember anything.

“When I was a kid, I read about the Bahamas being a magical place where there were black and pink sand beaches, and that you could swim with pigs in the sea there… it sounded so peaceful and picturesque. I think I’d like to visit one day.”

“That sounds amazing…” he replied, wistfully looking at the ceiling. You were keeping watch together, your team peacefully sleeping under the beds behind you, and the silence their absence left seemed to be goading you to keep talking.

“We could go together. A few weeks, no stress, just sunbathing and swimming and…” It had slipped out before you could stop it, and you could feel the sentiment bouncing around the room, loud and weighty. There was a charged moment of silence, his eyes drifting from the ceiling to you, scanning your face for signs of insincerity. He wouldn’t find any.

“That would be perfect.” You smiled in relief, but it was short lived, both of you whipping your heads to the door frantically as you heard a knocking echo in the dark space. You found the source of the noise quickly though - Players 120 and 149 requesting to use the bathroom. You watched the scene play out quietly, smiling at the older woman’s dramatic display as they were finally let through by the guards, and the space fell into a stifling silence once again.

“What are you going to do when you get out of here?”

“We.” He corrected you quickly, and you blushed.

“Fine, when we get out of here.” He paused, fiddling with the collar of his jacket and pulling it up to cover the lower half of his face, fingers twirling the zip as he pulled his knees to his chest.

“I want to take you to see my hometown. My family still live there, and I know my sisters would love you. They could even teach you gonggi too, if you wanted.” A tear fell to your cheek, the tenderness of it all hitting you quickly. “Maybe buy a little place there and one in Seoul, so I can visit them as much as I want. Spend weekends by the water there. Not as exciting as the Bahamas, granted…” You rested your head on his shoulder, blinking back the tears and swallowing hard to clear the emotion from your voice. It didn’t work.

“That would be perfect.”

It scared you how much you trusted him so quickly. It hadn’t even been two days and you found yourself daydreaming of a future with him. A future where you didn’t have to do shit like this for money. A future where you both found good jobs, earning enough to keep you comfortable. A future where you could start over with the help of the money you earned here. A future worth living for. You’d always been sceptical, but maybe trauma bonding was a real thing after all.

“Dae-ho?” A sleepy voice behind you muttered, and you both turned to see Gi-hun shuffling out from beneath the one of the beds. You had all decided to make doubles when you were setting up earlier with the bunks that were already next to each other, sliding two mattresses together and having a buddy to make it safer, Jung-bae opting to sleep alone in shame. Young-il followed him out, yawning dramatically and rubbing his eyes. “You guys have been up for a long time, let us swap out for a while.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, but Young-il yawning had set you off, following suit even though you tried to suppress it. They just gave you that look dads use instead of saying ‘I told you so’. “Yeah, yeah, ok fair enough.”

Dae-ho shuffled in first, and you followed. It was cramped, sure, but there was just enough room for you to sleep on your side or turn over, so you didn’t feel claustrophobic. As you made your way in, you realised how dark it was, evidenced by the fact you only found where Dae-ho was when you bumped into him, your arm pressing into his. A few moments passed and you stayed like that, finding comfort in the warmth he provided you with, and the soft sound of his breathing. Then you felt it. One of his fingers delicately tracing a line up the back of your hand. Your breath hitched, then evened out as the patterns he drew soothed you, and you couldn’t stop your head from lulling towards him to rest on his shoulder once more. Wordlessly, he withdrew his arm from beside yours and slid it underneath your neck, his hand falling to your shoulder, gently pulling you closer without being forceful. You allowed him to move you however he wanted, following his guidance and twisting until you were on your side, letting your leg drape over his and your hand fall to his chest. Your head ended up nestled into his neck as his arm kept tightening around you, hand eventually resting on your waist. You settled further into him with a contented sigh, his other hand meeting yours and enveloping it, the warmth and comfort alongside the rise and fall of his chest almost sending you straight to sleep.

It was a few minutes before you heard him speak, and even then you couldn’t be sure it was real. You were so close to drifting off, and his voice was barely audible, lips ghosting across your scalp.

“Promise me…” he whispered, quiet and vulnerable, “that we’ll make it out of here?” He sounded so broken. You lifted your entwined hands to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles that you hoped conveyed reassurance before tucking your joined hands close to your body.

“I promise.” His own lips found themselves on your forehead, the lightness of the touch leaving your skin tingling and a content blush fanning across your cheeks. His hands squeezed yours tighter as exhaustion began to pull you under, and all you could think was how badly you’d fucked yourself over. That even if you somehow made it out of this place, if it was without him, it would feel worthless.

"Goodnight, kind angel."

[millersfinest]

untethered⁴ | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 11.3k

series: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four (you’re here!)

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: +18 CONTENT, lmao flip phones, r and ellie NOT beating the cheating allegations, more use of y/n then i would prefer, she/her pronouns, afab anatomy mentioned, vulgar language, some angst (not on ellie’s watch tho), fuckgirl!ellie (kind of), the millers, r is a writer (she doesn’t write much in this ch wink wink 2.0), r and ellie conspiring, more horndog ellie, porn w plot ig, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, r is still very jealous of cat, hella angst, ellie has a landing strip ;), emotional cheating (from ellie), maria doesn’t play w r, repressed emotions, SMUT (r and ellie fuck nasty), dryhumping (underrated af), fingering, tribbing/scissoring, oral (e! receiving), titty sucking, little bit of dirty talk (not much because i’m shit at it), sub!top!ellie (?), dom!bottom!reader (?), they flip flop you guys idk.

note: i swear i can’t write smut for the LIFE OF ME… but practice makes perfect, right? my brain stopped working halfway through writing the smut portion of this so… if you don’t think ellie is giving sub!top than… you might be onto something. anywayyy, i have sm fun writing the reader and ellie’s dynamic!!! hope you guys enjoy this lengthy freaky chapter <3 and to my new followers, i see you, i hear you, and i stalk your accounts. bisou babiessss x

After your father gently chewed you out for taking so long—must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed—him and Maria took Joel to see his surprise; little Sarah. They were gonna take care of the animal work this morning, while you showed Ellie how to manage the grocery shipments. The collection of the items produced on the farm: eggs, milk and fresh vegetables. All that good stuff.

“Please, be thorough because this is how we make our money, honey.” Maria said before she followed after the brother’s, out the back door.

You swipe the clipboard off the counter that they left for you, puffing air from your mouth. Ellie followed you out the door as you led her to a trailer that kept all the products that were packaged the night before. When you lived back home, you often did the morning chores, while they did the nightly chores—although, they helped you where they could in the mornings, because you had school.

They package the eggs, milk and vegetables, but it was your job to count everything—make sure nothing was broken or eaten by bugs or tainted by anything. It was a detail-oriented job. Then, you put everything in crates and prepare them to be taken to the local shops in town. Normally, your parents dealt with that part, but not this time.

The crisp air had smacked life into you once you stepped outside. And, it was a bit of journey from the house to the trailer. The first few minutes alone, walking toward your destination, was in silence. Partially, an awkward silence. Ellie dragged her feet behind you, feigning a level of coolness that didn’t exist for her. “So, what exactly are we doing?” She questioned, peeking over your shoulder.

You peered at her, raising an eyebrow. “We’re doing a count, and a quality check of the groceries we sell to the shops at the square…” You begin, handing her the clipboard. “So, basically, a bunch of boring shit. But, at least we get to ride downtown and deliver the stuff. It’s like a fun little field trip.” Shrugging your shoulders, you arrive at the temperature controlled trailer after several minutes of walking.

“Oh…”

“This is what you signed up for, Ellie… How does it feel?” You pulled the key from your hip, unlocking the door. Naturally, you hold the door open for her, letting her walk in before you, eyeing her slender frame hidden under her sweatshirt and jacket.

She sucked in a breath, wrapping her arms around herself. Freckled cheeks turning red from the cold temperature. “Shit,” Ellie looked to you, with her eyebrows bunched together.

“Gotta keep the groceries fresh. It’s even worse in the winter. Which is where we’re headed so… Good luck, I guess.” You place your hand on her shoulder, squeezing, gently. The other hand snatching the clipboard from her hand. Keeping your eyes trained on hers, teasingly.

Surprisingly, you composed yourself enough after what you pulled this morning. Touching yourself to the thought of your past lover—it was a filthy thing to do. But, it’s not like she knew anything; at least, you hoped she didn’t. If she did, she would’ve said something by now because she was a nuisance.

Ellie jutted her bushy eyebrows upwards, humming to herself.

“All right, so,” You began, rolling your tongue in your mouth as you read down the checklist. “We should have two hundred and fifty tomato’s, one hundred and seventy-five carrots, one hundred and ten Granny Smith apples and one hundred an’ forty honey-crisp apples—“

“Wait, I’m sorry… Are we hand counting all of these?” Ellie questioned, dumbfounded.

You chortled, placing a hand on your hip. “Uh, yeah, Ellie. This isn’t a factory.”

She scoffed, looking around at all the products around her. Cursing under her breath, pushing a piece hair behind her ear. “Continue…” Ellie sighed, squatting in front of one of the crates of tomato’s. Tossing one up in her hand, examining it. “These are some pretty sexy tomato’s.” She muttered, glancing up at you.

Rolling your eyes, you hummed, dragging your finger across the checklist. “Let’s just start countin’. After each, check the list to see if the numbers match up.”

You started counting the eggs and gallons of unprocessed milk, while Ellie counted the vegetables. Later joining her with the vegetables because she was, surely, taking her time. The apples is where she found herself confused—or feigning confusion. You weren’t entirely sure, but the way she blinked at you made you consider the idea.

Perhaps, it was poor thinking on your part; locked in the cold trailer, it was inevitable for the two of you to cling to each other… For warmth. The strictness of your parents had rubbed off on you, but around her you always loosened up. Ellie was like your other half—the yin to your yang. But it always began with a luring of sorts; on her part. That's what loved about her.

Her big, earthy eyes bored into yours—penetrating you, mercilessly.

“Did you forget how to count?” You snicker, glancing between her and the fruit.

“My minds a little busy at the moment…” She sing-songed, glancing at you from the corner of her eye. There was so much insinuation in her words—you knew immediately what she was referring to. Or you were projecting like all hell.

Truth was, in those moments from her knocking on your door, to walking out in the cold to the trailer; Ellie wondered why the fuck you haven’t said anything. About the kiss, that is. The borderline makeout session that happened in that bar bathroom. What if that woman never banged on the door? What would’ve happened next? She had so many questions and curiosities that she was intending to voice.

She wasn’t mad… Just overtly interested in your thoughts beyond nobody can know about this.

You weren’t projecting at all.

Carefully, you observed her, taking in a big, deep breath. “With…?” You inquired, blinking at her, fingering the round fruits in the crate.

Ellie turned her head, slowly. “Am I allowed to speak of it while the sun’s still out?” She lightly, teased. The corners of her plump lips rising.

“Don’t be a dick.” You chuckle, narrowing your eyes. “Nobody’s around… So— speak freely, please.” Your shoulders shrugging, faking a careless demeanor.

“If you promise not to hit me…”

“Seriously?” Your features pinched, leaning back on your hands in your crisscrossed position.

She chewed on her lip. “Too soon?”

Answering her with silence was enough for her to change the subject back to what was originally intended to be talked about: the kiss.

Quickly, she recovered. “I can’t stop thinking about you— the kiss. There! I said it.” Ellie admitted, eyes searching between yours for some sort of consolation. But, she was met with none other than silence. More silence. Sprinkled with a little bit of shock—it was written all over your precious face.

Your eyebrows were stuck in a raised position, lips parted as if you heard a stranger say a foul joke over the phone. “Uhm, it’s now your turn to say: Oh, my God, Ellie! I can’t stop thinking about you, too! Let’s run away together!” She furrowed her thick eyebrows, followed by a boyish chuckle. God, that made your heart swell, then shatter.

“Fuck, Ellie… Els…” Lips gaped like a fish trying to formulate your words. That was not how she was wanting to hear you repeat fuck, Ellie—wasn’t the plan at all. Her heart completely dropped to her ass. “I don’t… Break up relationships. I’m not that kind of person. I don’t wanna be seen as that kind of person.” You explained, looking directly into her shaking eyes. Pressing your lips together, gulping, you placed your hand on her knee. “Stop thinking about me… Stop thinking about that kiss— it’s never happening again. It was a mistake.” You gently told her, with a gaze that said the complete opposite.

A mistake. That struck her like an iron ton—or like one of those comical piano’s falling from the sky. Abrupt. Unexpected.

Her lips quivered and her shoulders shrunk at your direct words. “It didn’t feel like a mistake.” Ellie muttered, clenching her jaw. “Nor did it fucking sound like one…” She followed, throwing the apple in her hand into the crate, jumping to her feet.

“Okay, can you not bruise the apple—“

“Fuck the apple…” She spoke under her breath, shutting eyes in frustration. Ellie fought the pain in her chest, inhaling and exhaling, evenly.

You looked down, pitifully. “I’m sorry—“

“Don’t be.” Ellie interrupted, shaking her head with pursed lips. “Because I don’t believe a single word that you just said.” She added, shrugging her tense shoulders.

Making a bewildered face, you stand to you feet, pushing back one of the crates you were counting from. “Well, you don’t have to believe me. Just listen to me.” You face your palms toward her, leaning forward, slightly. “I’m trying to help you, Ellie.”

She sized you up. “You think your help is what I want from you?”

“It doesn’t matter what you want, because that’s all you’re getting from me.” You told, crossing your arms over your chest. “I am not a homewrecker.”

“There isn’t a home to wreck!”

“To you, Ellie! To you there isn’t a home to wreck!” You finally raise your tired voice, ending your rushed our words with your hand over your eyes. “She worries about you, she gets two bottles of champagne because I ask for it— I’m wrecking her home, and I can’t do that. Not with a clean conscience."

A beat of silence moves through the both of you, like an elegant ribbon dancing around your stiff bodies. Trying to pull the two of you together. Ellie was standing with so much distance between you, holding herself for comfort. Cold air whistled behind your ears as you waited for some kind of response. You watched her earthy eyes search around, lip moving as she gnawed the inside of her cheek in thought. “Ellie—“ You took a step forward, reaching a hand out to comfort her.

“Did you think about that… Touching yourself to the thought of me this morning?” Ellie let the words come from her slow and full of poison, taking her time to look you in the eye. Her feet began to move, meeting you in the middle. Face to face. Chest to chest.

Words got caught in your throat as embarrassment clouded your vision and mind. “W-- What?” You stammered, frozen in your place. She was the last person you wanted to hear that; it was an accident. It just happened. Similar to that kiss you shared together. It was in her character to bring it up--you fucking knew that much, but you didn't anticipate her bringing it up so harshly.

“How would Cat feel if she found out you were fucking yourself to the idea of her girlfriend—“

“It wasn’t like that.” You tried, averting your eyes. Eyebrows pushing together, swallowing the anger building in your throat.

“Wasn’t it?” A sickening smirk spread on her lips. Chest grazing yours as she stood tall. “I heard you… Whining for me— what we did couldn’t have meant nothing.” Her voice grew gentle, hand reaching toward a warm place on your neck. Still, internally writhing with embarrassment, you let her. Leaning into her cold hand, bracing yours at the divot of her elbow.

A sigh fell from your lips, meeting her intense irises. “I never said it meant nothing.” You mumbled, breath hitching. “It just shouldn’t happen, again. We have to think of the people—“

“Can you just think about yourself for once?” Her hand slipped closer to the nape of your neck, pulling you close like you did to her. Ellie peered down at your parted lips, nearly pressing her forehead to yours. She still noticed that hesitance in your demeanor—you were talking yourself off the damn ledge. Fighting the temptation that was Ellie Williams caressing your skin. Feeling you. Tethering to you for connection.

Perhaps, there was another way she could get you to stop restraining. In order for her to give in, she needed you to decide on your own accord. Your heavy breathing wasn’t enough for her. Nor was the stressed massaging of her forearm by your desperate fingers.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone—“

“Say the word, and I’ll do as you say. Say the word... And the kiss didn’t happen…” She whispered near your lips, breathing in the air you released—which couldn’t have been healthy. Even in the face of situational rejection, she breathed you in like fresh air.

Your hand found a way to cling to her sweatshirt, bunching the material hanging around her waist. Her lips pecked the corner of your lips, moving toward your cheek, then your jaw. You leaned into her touch, whining lowly. She was suffocating in the best way. For a moment, you believed you would actually go through with it. Unable to resist her, until you spoke. “I can’t…” You mutter, with your eyes fluttered shut. But as quickly as you said it, she pulled away from you. Arms, lips—fucking everything.

There was so much hurt in her eyes, but she swallowed it down. “Please, understand.” You pleaded, automatically feeling uncomfortably cold now that her touch was gone.

“Oh, I understand, all right.” Ellie bit, dryly chuckling. She was wilting before your eyes. Just like Dina had mentioned. This is what happens to her when you’re around, and you wanted to everything to make it better. However, your morals were clouding you. The moral being: Not appearing like something you weren’t. Not even, being a homewrecker—it was worse to be seen as one, than actually being one.

Your mind was occupied by the image of her in your dreams and while you were awake—you just fought harder against it. Ellie was the exact opposite of you. She fell into you the minute she knew that she could; it was worthy of your respect in some degree. But she wasn't yours anymore. “I’m gonna go pull Tommy’s truck around…”

She swiftly left the trailer, leaving you in your abrasive thoughts. The door shut behind her and you just blinked at it. Muttering curses under your breath, tears welling up in your eyes. Your memories flashing back to what it felt like to be kissed by her. It set your skin on fire—you’ve never been more in tune with someone in your life! It scared you to take a risk as grand as succumbing to someone who was spoken for.

The one thing Ellie told you about Cat was that she didn’t inspire her. And, from her first night on the farm, the artist was back engaging in her work again. Was it conceited to assume it was because of you? Clearly, something was off between the two of them. Enough for her to be looking to you for consolation. You were her muse; there were rights that you did have pertaining to Ellie. Plus, she was yours first...

Look at you, talking yourself up to resuming the treachery that was your blooming relationship with Ellie. That burning feeling you felt seeing her features drop at your rejection was like fire up the ass; a call to action. Ellie stole that level of control from you—the idea that you could succumb or pull away whenever you wanted to.

All of a sudden, you needed her more than breath itself.

Instead of waiting by the door for her like a mannequin, you finished up the counting with quickness. Checking off the list as you finished—all the products being accurately numbered.

Ellie had pulled the freight truck around, and quicker than you thought. It was as large as the smallest UHaul truck, and packing all the crates inside wasn’t much of a hassle. The auburn-haired woman stood inside the back, taking the crates from your hands to load the products inside. Fingers grazing every other crate, but Ellie made sure not to physically pay it any mind. She was playing a game that was only entertaining to herself.

She was a warm-blooded manipulator and a very good one. Ellie believed she was using her powers for good this time, though. For true love, she believes. Her gut told her that you felt just as insatiable for her as she did for you—she fucking knows it! It makes her sick that you can’t be forthright about how you feel without worrying so much. Yeah, she should probably break-up with Cat—and, mentally, she’s been planning to for months—but right now that wasn’t the priority.

She could only set her sights on two things at a time, and that was her art and you--two things that easily coincides with one another. Like mentioned before, she’ll handle the situation between her and Cat at some point. Whenever that will be.

Ellie could feel you chipping away with every chance of connection she took from you. Finger grazes. Intentional eye contact. She would flinch every time you tried to touch her, just like you did in that bathroom. Giving you a taste of your own medicine. It felt good, although, that pouty look on your face didn't let her fully revel in it.

You drove the truck downtown to drop off the goods—trading products for checks and money-orders. The drive being the worst fifteen minutes of your life. Stuck in a stuffy truck with a woman who was pissed at you. You kept glancing over at the freckled artist, hoping she’d meet your eyes just once. But her chin was rested on her fist as she looked out the window, keeping her eyes trained on the passing landmarks.

When all of the products were delivered, you started the engine with a loud huff. Disgruntled, well within your rights. But she didn’t pay you an ounce of attention until you released an exasperated sigh, halfway down the road.

“Fine, fuck, I take it back, Ellie!” You tap your thumbs around the wheel, trying to keep your eyes on the road.

She raises an eyebrow. “You take what back?” She wanted to hear you say it; a slight smirk spreading on her lips. It worked quicker than she thought it would—you must’ve wanted her bad.

You pull the truck to the side of the road, shifting in your seat to lay your eyes on her, safely. “I can’t stop thinking about you, either…” The confession pushed from your throat, leaking with solemnity. “Or the kiss— that fucking kiss.” You shut your eyes, re-living it in your mind before her.

“Well, I already knew that… I just needed to hear you say it.” She rolled her eyes, nonchalantly, leaning forward on her knees.

“Don’t get too excited… I have a proposition.” You hold your head up high, lifting your chin. Grasping for any semblance of control that you could muster. Ellie motioned her hand for you to continue, and you did. It was difficult to say, because that meant that it was real. Your sappy, horny and sickeningly romantic feelings for her were real. “I want you, and clearly, you want me, too. So… Why don’t we just get it over with?”

A grin cracked onto her face, followed by a giggle. Freckled cheeks turning a lovely shade of red. “Get it over with? Yeah, that’s totally something a woman wants to hear—“

“Ellie, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?” She raised a scarred eyebrow. The woman leaned back in her seat, sliding down, spreading her legs apart. Ellie was thinking with a subtle smile that couldn’t leave her face. She was excited and beyond. “You wanna fuck me, y/n?” The auburn-haired woman looked over at you, tapping her hand against the passenger seats handles. “Or… Do you want me to fuck you—? I’m down for either, really…”

You scoff at her words, shaking your head. “I wanna make sure that… We’re not acting like this because of the thrill of it all… Old flings, and shit. Get this out of our system.”

“So, this is a one and done type’a thing?”

“Depends. We’ll find out, I guess. I’m willing to find out.” You shrug, flickering your eyes across her stunning face. If only you could start now…Instead of harping, you turn back toward the wheel.

Ellie releases a joyful laugh under her hand; excited beyond measure. There was a thrill to sneaking around, but she didn’t need that to be with you. “Wait… You consider this,” She gestures between the two of you. “An old fling? We were together for two years.”

“Semantics, Ellie.” You chuckled, starting to move the truck back onto the road.

She sucked her teeth. “Semantics my tits— there’s nothing old flingy about us. I’m literally in love with you.” Ellie scoffs, glancing out the window before realizing what she said aloud. Pausing with her fist covering her mouth.

Warmth gathered in your face, gripping the steering wheel to keep a restraint. “Y— You… You don’t have to say it back, but… Yeah, it’s true. I am in love with you…” Her voice trembled as she spoke, eyeing the side of your face. “This isn’t a thrill for me. But if you need to make sure this isn’t a thrill for you… I’m okay with that.”

Your heart bloomed, beating rapidly in your chest. If you could attack her with your lips while manning the wheel, you would. Choosing to be selfish was hard, especially, in a situation as taut as this one. Nobody could ever understand—you had be okay with homewrecking; you needed to figure this out. You wanted to figure this out.

It was easy to know that you were doing this for more than the thrill. But, you just had to make sure this was worth the backlash that would come of this. From your parents, from Cat, from your friends, from Ellie’s friends. It all had to be worth something.

“So… What’s the plan for this thing we’re doing? Is it, like, a date?”

You snickered, keeping your eyes on the road. “I don’t count hookups as dates. We’re gonna treat this like a one night stand… For now, at least.” You take in a breath before continuing. “My parents should be in their rooms by ten-thirty, Joel by nine— correct me if I’m wrong…”

“You’re right.” Ellie agrees, nodding her head. Peering over at you with glimmering irises.

“I’ll come get you from the back porch at eleven-forty-five— no earlier, no later.”

“This sounds like we’re about make the greatest heist known to man.” She joked, chuckling to herself.

You hummed, glancing at her, briefly. “I mean, I am stealin’ you for a night, aren’t I?”

Her cheeks immediately blushed at your words, but she looked off to the door window to hide. Pupils dilating with excitement, chewing on her bottom lip. Planning to have sex was such a juvenile thing to do—something that you used to do when you were horny teenagers. Orchestrating around your parents, sneaking around, quickies left and right. It was silly, but it had to be done; according to you, at least. And who was Ellie to object? She would do anything to feel you again.

Pulling up to your house, you parked the truck in its usual place. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to get around Cat?” You question, loosely. Somehow without that guilt that’s been creeping up your bones, imbedding into your veins.

She ran a hand through her hair, nodding with pursed lips. “Oh, she’ll be easy.” Ellie shrugged, unbuckling her seatbelt.

Your lips pull into a tight, slightly stressed smile. The artist across from you narrowed her earthy eyes, taking your hand from where she sat, leaning forward. Ellie was prepared to say some uplifting words, but she forfeited that idea as soon as her lips prepped to speak. Instead, she stood up, pulling you to the back of the truck. Where the clear windows couldn’t expose the absolute crime that the two of you were—walking moral felonies.

Her hand clenched yours, coming to stop in the dark. Your hand creeped up her forearm, pressing yourself close enough to her to be irresistible. Ellie reached for your jaw, not wasting any time to press her lips against yours. Her lips were soft and longing; as if she’s been waiting for this moment her whole life. Your hands braced at her hips, pushing hers against yours—but, she still tried to take the lead. Tongue grazing your bottom lip as an ask to intrude your mouth.

Ellie wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to change your mind. She must've not have known you as well as you thought, because you most definitely weren’t.

The feeling of her fingers creeping around your throat made you pull away. Looking at her in the dimly lit darkness of the back of the truck. Pupils dilated, completely under her spell. And she thought you were the compelling one. “Do you have any resolve?” A smile spread onto your wet, shiny lips.

“Nope!” She grinned, leaning into you for more.

Turning your face, you laughed. “Save some for later, you freak.” Ellie kissed your cheek, then kissed it again; holding your face in her hands like a delicate object. “Ellie!” You giggled, holding onto her wrists. “We can’t camp out in this truck… They’ll start asking questions.”

“Ugh, I know…” Ellie finally pulled back, but she held onto your hand because she had to be tethered to you in some way. “Do you think we’ll have any time together before later?” She was such a romantic to her core.

“Probably, not. I have to help my mom prep some food for tomorrow… I promised.” You massaged her palm with your thumb, kissing her knuckles like it was something you did all the time. It was certainly something you wouldn't mind doing all the time. “Be patient for me, yeah?”

“I can try…” Ellie pouted, rolling her eyes.

“Eleven-forty-five… You’re all mine, and I’m all yours. Just a few hours. You can make it.” You finalized before walking back to the front of the truck to exit. But not without winking in her direction, leaving her in the dark. Stuck in a paralyzed trance: You’re all mine, and I’m all yours. Was this some sort of dream?

This was really happening.

The rest of the day was spent getting ready for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. You helped Maria prep her biscuit dough, and marinade for the ham. As well as cutting fruit for the pie Ellie and Joel were planning on making tomorrow. It felt domestic preparing things for her and Joel--just like you used to do. Sometime during that period, Tommy and Ellie took off to the butcher shop to grab some steak—because what was a Miller’s Thanksgiving without options?

And, weirdly enough, Cat joined you and your mother in the food prep. Which totally messed up your domestic fantasy of family cooking.

She snacked on the apple’s you chopped, leaning against the corner. “Have you ever tried her apple pie?” Cat asked, taking one of the other slices that you placed on a napkin in front of her. You were trying to be nice here. “Ellie is such a great cook.” She mused, dusting her hands on the fabric of her pajama pants.

You chuckled, rinsing off the bulk of the apple slices in the deep sink. “A long time ago… It’s pretty good.”

Maria chuckled, mixing spices and seasoning into her honey ham marinade. “Bug’s a harsh critic, too. So if she says it’s good, then it’s good.”

“She does the whole sugar crumble thing. It really sets it off.” You add, dropping the sliced apples into plastic tupperware to put in the fridge.

Cat hummed, pushing a piece of her slick black hair behind her ear. “Good to know. I guess I have something to look forward to— as well as your cooking Mrs. Miller.” She complimented, sharing a friendly smile. With your head still facing the fridge, you couldn’t have rolled your eyes harder. She was so sweet it made you sick. Champagne bottles mocking you as you emotionally rejected the girl in your kitchen.

“Is there anything I could help out with?”

“No, I don’t think—“

“Of course, hon. Would you mind taking that cornbread out of the oven?” Maria interrupted you, casting you a glare that only you could notice. Jutting your eyebrows up, you scoff under your breath. She hands her mittens from a drawer to aid in the removal of the glass pan.

Sighing, you watch her remove the cornbread—the one you were going to use for stuffing. “I’m gonna go take a smoke break…” You mutter, already pushing through the front screen door.

Soon after you pulled out your pack of yellow American Spirits, placing a stick between your teeth, your mother had followed you out. With her veiny hands on her hips, staring at you like you committed some sort of crime. Upon seeing her face, you lit the end of your cigarette, jutting your eyebrows up.

“What is going on with you?” She asserted, glancing at the cigarette between your lips with disgust. Maria never liked that you smoked; she knew how bad they were for you, but you didn’t have much of a reason to care. You didn’t care when you were young, and you surely didn’t now. For a brief moment, when you and Ellie were together, you smoked less. But, after that, you picked up like you never stopped.

You puffed the smoke away from her, holding the cigarette between your index and middle finger. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Uh, you don’t know what I’m talkin’ about? You think I didn’t hear all that heavy breathin’ in there?” Maria raised an eyebrow.

“Maria,”

“Don’t Maria me.” She inhaled, pointing an authoritative finger at you. “I can’t control who you like, but that girl in there is a guest in our home— and she will be treated with respect.” The blonde woman told as you leaned your head to the side like a rebellious teen. “All that sighin’ is for the birds.”

You pursed your lips, rolling your eyes. “Heard. Yes, ma’am.”

Her bright eyes softened, watching you take puffs from the stick between your fingers. “I know it’s hard to see. I understand that. But we’re not always gonna like everything— I’m sure you know that, though.”

“Yeah,” You breathe, peering at your mother.

“Why don’t you invite that Abby girl to dinner tomorrow? Ellie told us she took you home the other night.” She offered, nudging you, playfully. Record fucking scratch.

Why on earth would Ellie mention Abby to her parents? Where would she even find the time to do that? A deep sigh fell from your lips, but you covered it with a smile. “You know, what? That’s a great idea, mom. I’ll text her. See if she has any plans…”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “This generation and their texting— give her a call, honey. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

Maria squeezed your shoulder before dipping back into the house. You leaned your elbows on the bannister, hinging at your hips. Ellie telling your parents about Abby wasn’t going to put a damper on the plans tonight—however, she was going to pay for that. Stubbing out your cigarette, you snatched your cell from your hip. Decorative chain dangling from the headphone port.

Your thumb flicked open the screen, and you began to search through your contacts looking for Abs. Perhaps, you should call her—to really make the sentiment stick. After all, she was the one asking when she was going to see you again.

You clicked the call button on your keyboard, placing it on your ear. The line trilled and trilled, until a muffled sound signaled that she had picked up. “Abigail Anderson,” She greeted, as if she didn’t know it was you. But you could hear the smile in her voice.

“How formal, Abs.” She chuckled on the other end. “Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

“You mean on Thanksgiving? Yeah, I wouldn’t be in this middle-of-nowhere town if I didn’t.” She paused, shuffling on the other end of the line. Like she was shifting in her bed or something. “Why? You wanna do somethin’?” Her voice leaked with innuendo, and it actually made your stomach churn; like you were doing something wrong.

Sighing, you turned your back against the bannister. “Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow… My family and I aren’t gonna eat all this food ourselves— we could use a helping hand.”

“Meeting the parents? I don’t know…”

You chortled. “It’s not like that, and you know it.”

“I said I’ll help Owen’s family with food prep… But, I should have some time to stop by.”

Yes!

“Okay, just keep me updated if anything changes.”

“I’d never leave you hangin’.”

“Right… Buh bye.” You shut the phone before she has the chance to respond. Releasing a sigh of relief. Oh, and just in time for Tommy and Ellie to pull into the gravel driveway.

You peered over your shoulder, coolly. With your bare arms wrapped around your body for warm. You watch as Tommy and Ellie hop out the truck with paper bags in his hands and two packs of beer in Ellie’s—they don’t need that much beer. But, it was a nice sight to see them laughing together. “Where’s Joel?” You question, deepening your eyebrows.

“He’s picking up a new guitar for tomorrow!” Your father responded, approaching the porch. Ellie following close behind him, looking through her lashes at you as she stepped up the wooden steps.

“Hey, Ellie.” You greeted, pressing your lips into a smile. A no strings attached smile.

“Hey, y/n.” She dragged the hey a bit longer than she should have, passing you. Tommy pulling open the screen door, holding it with his foot. But, you didn’t let her pass. Stepping in front of her with a playful smirk on your lips.

Eyeing the packs of canned and glass-bottled beer in her hands. “I hope there’s some wine or coolers in that truck a’ yours…”

She nervously chuckled, causing the blond man to raise an eyebrow. Cheeks raising and blushing. “I only have two hands. There’s two bottles of Sauvignon Blanc in there. Door’s unlocked.”

You smiled, unintentionally ogling her as she stepped passed Tommy to go inside. By the time your eyes ascended, you caught his skeptical blue ones. “I’ll go get the wine…” You mutter, trotting off the porch.

And that’s what you did. Trotted off to get the wine from Ellie’s truck. She was right, there were two bottles of Sauvignon Blanc waiting for you, and a rack of wine coolers. They spoiled you. Shutting the door with your hip, you walked back inside the house to place the items on the counter.

You didn’t notice the sight of Ellie clinging onto Cat—or it could’ve been the other way around—until you gave the room a once over. Tommy was giving Maria a chaste kiss on the forehead, chuckling against her skin. And, Ellie had her arms wrapped around Cat’s neck, pushing her into her chest. Her tattooed arms wrapped around her waist, laughing into her. That should've been you holding her like that.

It burned like all hell. And, frankly, it pissed you off on the lowest degree.

Catching a glimpse of Cat’s dark, almond eyes, you flinched. They weren’t sweet anymore, they reflected a level of competitiveness you have yet to see from her. It was completely and utterly random. Has she caught on? Did Ellie say something? Worry bunched in your eyebrows, but you averted your eyes.

Suddenly, you felt the need to write. Work on that chapter you started the other day.

“Hey, I’ll be upstairs… Gotta get some words outta my head.” You tapped your father’s arm as you passed him to head upstairs to your bedroom. “Call me if you need anything.” The words rush out of your mouth, before jog up the slippery wooden stairs.

When you shut yourself in your room, you fell onto your unmade bed, screaming into your pillow. Clutching the feather-filled sack with so much vigor, it could've popped in your grasp. That one glance had made the actions you were planning to do make a lot more sense, and you didn't feel as bad. You didn’t care if you were perceiving it wrong. There was always an inkling that Cat wasn’t as perfect and sweet as she let on. Why would she ever add her girlfriend’s ex on MySpace, anyway? Was she crazy? Most definitely.

You pulled out your computer to do as you said, opening your developing documents. Instead of focusing on the possessive eyes of Ellie’s girlfriend, you focused on your work—because, above all else, that was most important.

Eventually, Ellie went back to the guesthouse. Leaving Cat behind, since she was having so much fun around Maria and Tommy. It felt weird leaving her behind in a house that wasn’t familiar to her—mainly because the house was yours. Ellie knew you didn’t like her, but she wanted to finish the portrait she was working on. And she could only do that when her girlfriend was either occupied with work, sleep or pure mindlessness.

She tied a oil paint-stained apron around her neck and waist, before sitting down before her easel. She flipped over the breathable sheet she hung over it to protect the identity of the model. Then, she began painting—filling in the deep colors of the shed, then adding highlights to your painted frame. You were the first silhouette she added color to on the piece.

Time didn’t wait for either you—slipping by like it didn’t even exist. It was around eleven when you began searching for something cute to wear for Ellie. For Ellie—that was such weird thing to think about. There was old lacy nightgown that you used to wear, but the hems showed that you wore it to the ground. After a lot of shifting through drawers, you decided on a lacy pair of cheeky underwear and no bra—you could never go wrong with that. And, of course, a pair of boxer shorts and a large gray t-shirt. It was no sexy set from Victoria Secret, but it would do.

Ellie had always been a simple girl, just as much as you. She preferred nakedness over anything, anyway.

For the next twenty minutes, you pulled your legs up by your reading nook, scanning the pages of a hardcover book. It was a classic—something you were obligated to read in high school. You always loved books like that. Victorian. Regency. It was all so romantic.

The next time you glanced at the alarm clock on your beside table, it was eleven-forty-one. Meaning it was time to make your way down the stairs, checking for any lingering presences on your way.

Just like you thought, Joel and your parents were in their bedrooms. The kitchen was completely down for the night. The only light that was on was above the clean, silver gas stove. Shuffling toward the back porch, you cut the light on to check if Ellie was out there—and she was. With her hands shoved into the pockets of her sweatpants, hoodie over her head to keep her ears warm. They were matching tones of a light gray.

Opening the wooden door, you pushed open the screen door, eyeing her slender frame hidden under all that cotton. “Is this your incognito costume or…?” A smile pulling onto your lips. She narrowed her eyes at you, walking in with a slight sway in her shoulders. Ellie was illuminating with the confidence of someone who was about to get laid. The skip in her step didn't go unnoticed.

“Everyone’s asleep?” She questioned, swinging her arms at her side, waiting for you to shut the doors behind you.

Shutting off the porch light, you turn back to her, nodding. “Yeah. Just like I anticipated.” You watched her pull off the hoodie, mussing up her damp auburn hair. Olive eyes looking for you in the dark, expectantly. You take her hand with both of yours, walking backwards toward the stairs. “Come on,” You whispered, sweetly. Voice honeyed with anticipation and excitement. Fucking hell! Neither of you could believe that you were doing this.

“Be careful. The old wood creaks.”

“I know…”

Ellie followed behind your steps exactly, as you were trying to evade all the extra cracking from the staircase. It wasn’t a perfect journey from the first floor to the second, as some creaks couldn’t be evaded. But, nonetheless, you pulled her to your bedroom. Her hand growing clammy in yours, but you didn’t care.

As you shut the door behind you, Ellie began to look around your room. Noticing how it hadn’t changed much since the last time she was in there. The posters may have been different, but they were still there, barely peeling from the dull pink walls. And, hell, the catwoman figurines on your dresser were still in place. Collecting dust just like the sum of her own collectables at Joel’s place.

When she noticed you staring at her, the heart in her chest began to wildly beat in her ears. Her cheeks flushing a bright red, eyeing your frame.

You harbored a level of nervousness, but you were ready. Thinking in a happy medium of logic and emotion, you wanted to feel her. It was borderline nostalgic to the first time you were with her so intimately.

“This feels so formal.” Ellie walks up to you, placing her hands at your hips. Feeling the ridges of the waistline of your boxers over your long t-shirt. “Worse than a one night stand…” She chuckles, inspecting your features with anxiety. The moment she’s been wholly desiring was within her fingers, but her nervosa was getting the best of her.

You pressed your lips into a smile, placing one hand over hers on your hip, and the other on her cheek. She nuzzled into your touch, searching for comfort. It wasn’t hard to find, either. Since your thumb caressed her freckled skin—palm exuding nothing but warmth. “It doesn’t have to…” You began, voice purring. “This can be whatever you want it to be.”

Finding the softness of her throat to be alluring, you waste no time pressing your lips against her jaw. “Whatever you want it to be, Els.” You repeat against her skin, trailing down to her neck. Slowly plotting your lips against her throat, pushing soft breaths from her. Fingers squeezing at your hips, pressing them against hers. It was natural for you to take the lead with her—she was so bashful at times.

She’d spend the day tempting you with big eyes and deep kisses, only to turn to absolute putty in your hands when you took it to the next level.

Her body trembled under your touch, but the more she leaned into you the more relaxed she became. Your hand began to imbed itself into her hair, tips of your fingers grazing her scalp. A shaky sigh, borderline moan, came from her parted lips, legs wobbling to keep her standing on her feet. Did Cat ever make her feel this way? You were barely touching her and she was already making so much noise.

Tugging at her sweatshirt, you eyed her. “Take this off.” You breathily commented, sliding your hands under it. Quickly, she pulled the sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in a tight tank top, shaggy bangs spreading over her face. You push the strands from her eyes, glancing at her lips. Ellie dropped the sweatshirt at her feet, locked in a trance.

Your eyes glaze over in awe at her flushed features and expanded pupils. Drifting your middle finger over the beauty mark under left eye, drinking her in. “You’re so beautiful, Ellie.” Your voice wasn’t any higher than whisper, analyzing her twitching features. Her hand reached for your wrist, pulling it to plant her lips up your forearm.

“Says… You…” She speaks between each kiss, looking at you through her thick eye lashes.

A giggle sounds from you, watching her worship your skin, leading all the way back to your lips. Wrapping your arms around her shoulders, you get as close to her as you can. Her tongue timidly entered your mouth, causing you to release a moan of approval and affirmation.

She walks you toward your bed. The end of the mattress catching the back of your knees, causing you to fall. Keeping your eyes locked with hers, you scoot back into the middle of the bed. Ellie dropping her knees onto the mattress, crawling up to meet you. She pushed your shoulders down, collapsing atop of you to meet your lips again. Slotting her thigh between your legs, pulling up your shirt.

Her cool hand grazing over your ribs, just under your breast that hadn’t yet been exposed. Hips rolling against your thigh, sweats bunching in her crotch. “Fuck,” She groaning in your mouth, clenching the material of your shirt in her hands. Her sexual frustration beginning to take over. “I need you so bad, baby.” She whines, lips trailing to your jaw, nipping at you skin with her teeth.

One hand latched onto her hip, the other bracing on the mattress as you flipped her over. Positioning yourself on top of her, straddling her boney hips. Her wide earthy eyes peering up at you, full of desire. Boldly, you crossed your arms to pull the loose top from your body, throwing it across the room. “You have me...”

Slender fingers gripped your hips as you began to grind yourself on her. Breasts moving with every roll of your waist. Ellie reached a hand up to grope your chest, pinching your nipple with her thumb and the side of her finger. Abruptly, she sat up to plot her lips across your warm collarbones. Leading to where she could wrap her lips around the same sensitive nipple she was playing with.

A low gasp fell from your lips, falling into her, gripping the roots of her hair. “Ellie…” You sigh, rolling your eyes back—finding yourself overcome by her touch. You were trying to tease her, rubbing yourself against her like an animal in heat. But, you were just as greedy as her.

“Keep going…” She muttered against your skin, gripping the front of your boxer shorts and underwear. “Please. You look so fuckin' hot like this."

Her words shot right to your pussy, urging you to grind yourself against her harder. “Fuck… Ellie.” You cursed with your face in her hair, smelling the sweetness you craved. Her lips spread into a smile, hearing the words she's been waiting to hear. She nips your nipple with her teeth, before laying back down onto her back.

Bracing your hands on her stomach, you increase in speed, whimpering from the lack of skin to skin contact. The both of you restrained yourself when it came to noise—this was still forbidden. Something nobody other than yourselves could bare to witness and experience. But the squeak of your old bed frame knocking against the wall gave it away to peeving ears.

The brushing of you against her clothed clit, made her pant for you. Holding onto your hips, making you go as fast as you possibly could—gripping the fat of your ass through your shorts. Watching you shut your eyes in concentration, using her; trying to reach a high that she wanted to be the reason for.

She flipped you over, causing you to let out some combination of a gasp and giggle. Sprawling your arms beside your head, laying over your pillows and stuffed animals. Her earthy eyes glanced at them, picking one up. “You sure you want ‘im here for this?” Her long fingers squeezed the stuffed teddy bear.

You narrowed your eyes, wrapping your legs around her hips. “Nothin’ he hasn’t already seen.” Taking the bear from her hands, you toss him over the bed, pulling her down with insatiable desire. “C’mere,” You purr, bringing her down to your lips. Sloppily, you merge your lips together. One of your hands pulling up the white tank top that clung to her toned abdomen.

She obliged to your movements, briefly separating from your lips to remove her top. Freeing her small perky breasts. Connecting her lips back to yours, she groaned at the contact of your skin. Finding herself more intoxicated by you the more to she felt you, touched you, tasted you.

Trailing her lips down your jaw, to your soft throat—nibbling and sucking—then, to your heated chest; her hand was her guide. Slipping down your body before her lips did, tugging at the shorts and underwear that clung to you. They had to go! Her determined irises looked up at you while she licked her tongue around your areola before sucking your erect nipple into her mouth. Ellie was really making a show of it.

“You gonna let me take care of you?” Her voice was silken, moving to your other breast to give her some attention. “Prove to you… How real this is?” Instead of continuing to tug on your shorts, she slipped her hand inside. Her soft touch making you jump at the feeling of the pads of her fingers, spreading your folds.

Locking your eyes with hers, furrowing your brows, you nodded, feverishly. “Uh huh,” You breathed, rolling your hips against her touch. It was like you could feel the effects of her spreading through your muscles—as they tightened and loosened. Wilted flower, she was no more, playing with your dripping core. Marveling at how wet you were; it was surreal.

Ellie pulled back, sitting up on her knees. Her fingers hooked into your bottoms, yanking both your shorts and underwear down. You pouted, clamping your legs shut. She completely missed out on seeing the only cute lace number that you had. “I wanted you to see those.” You whined, peering up at her with a pair of eyes that just screamed: fuck me!

She kissed both of your knees before spreading them open, chewing on her lips at the sight of your glistening cunt. “I’ll see ‘em later.” You were so appetizing to look at—naked as the day you were born, clenching and trembling for her. She couldn't care less about the lacy number that was separating you from her. Ellie faltered for a moment, unsure where to start. That confidence that shot through her like a syringe of adrenaline was already fading.

When it came to sex, she always knew what to do—it was simple. At least with Cat it was. But, this was you she was working with. Her first love who was managing to give her a second chance after fucking everything up—she couldn’t mess this up. “Tell me what you want from me, baby.” She told, voice, slightly shaking. “Please.”

You furrowed you eyebrows, finding her nervousness endearing. Taking her hand, while keeping her eyes embraced by yours, you place her hand over your throbbing pussy. “I want you here…” You release a breath that comes from your diaphragm. Adding fuel to fire, you began rolling against her palm. “I wanna feel you…” Taking your other hand, you pull her down to speak in her ear. “Inside of me.” You moaned, airily, getting lost in the touch that you orchestrating. Pushing your head back into the fluffy pillows lining your headboard.

Her arms weakened, falling atop of you. She situated herself, straddling one of your legs to keep them open. Scissoring your clit with her middle and ring finger, warming you up before she inserted a finger into your weeping slit. Exhaling, shakily, at the feeling of your tight walls gripping her middle finger—you basically sucked her in.

Plotting your lips along her jaw, you couldn’t suppress expressions of pleasure that trickled from your mouth. Moaning against her pale, freckled skin as she curled her fingers inside you at a sickeningly slow pace. “Fast— ah… Faster, Els.”

She locked her eyes with yours, ingesting that blissed look on your features. “I wanna take my time with you…” Ellie kissed your lips, savoringly. “Wanna remember every sound, every look on that pretty face…” She kissed you, again. Deeper and full of unbridled passion. You could’ve came right there, looping your arm around her neck, trying to find something to hold onto.

Her touch lit your body on fire, and still, tried to restrain the sounds you made because of it. Sweat beaded in the crevices of you body, but she licked it up like sweet saccharine fruit juice. Truly, you believed she’d be at your mercy, writhing underneath you—first, at that! But, the minute you guided her, letting her know that you really wanted her; she completely gave in. Making you the one to writhe and call out for her.

Her firm ministrations felt like hours, adding another finger, brushing that spongey place inside of you enough to cause endless shaking and trembling. Borderline convulsing. There was such love in her eyes, watching you yelp and whine for her. Not even her sloppy, filthy kisses could completely hide the sounds you were making.

Clenching her hair in your hands, you felt your walls clenching around her fingers. “Fuck, Ellie… Just like that.” You whisper, proceeding it with guttural moan against her skin. The sound of your wetness filling your ears, pushing you closer to that edge. “Jus— ah f-fuck.” You cursed, rolling your hips against her.

Focusing her olive eyes on your face, she rolled your clit with her thumb. Making you grip the pillow behind your head with one hand, while your other gripped her hair hard enough to cause her a bit of pain. She whined at your touch, unable to look away from you. Freezing the frame of your mouth parted, making an ‘O’ shape, as she made love to you.

When that knot snapped in the pit of your stomach, she jumped to swallow your loud moans. Still, fucking her fingers into you to ride out your high. Your free leg snapping shut, clamping her fingers between the strength of your thighs. She pulled her fingers from your cunt, leaning back from your lips to eye the slick surrounding her fingers. Licking from the base of them, she sucked them into her mouth.

You watched her in awe, rubbing your legs together, still throbbing for her. Ellie was an absolute pervert when it came do you—could you get anymore turned on? She had no resolve, just like she said. You smash your lips against hers, growling at the taste of yourself. Your fingers begin to yank at her sweats, with the remaining amount of strength you have. “Why are these still on?”

“Because you didn’t take ‘em off.” She panted against your skin, falling back onto her back.

You chortled, pulling the pants from her hips. Musing at the striped boyshorts that clung to her, ogling the wet spot that seeped through the cloth. Your fingers lightly rubbed over the spot, grazing her erect clit on purpose accident. Her hips bucked up at you, a soft sigh leaving her parted lips. “These are cute.” You say before pulling them down her legs, flicking them off the side of the bed. “That’s me acknowledging your effort. See how easy that was?"

“I did acknowledge your effort…” Ellie whined, feeling your soft lips against her chest leading to her breasts. When you sucked her nipple into you mouth, pinching the other, she gasped. You hummed against her, slotting your leg between hers. She couldn’t help but grind herself against your thigh, groping your ass in the process.

Switching to the other lonesome breast, popping the right from your lips, you spoke. “No worries, baby, I forgive you.”

Impatiently, she humped your leg, panting under you as you suckled on her. Slowly, moving down her toned abdomen—licking and nibbling on her freckled skin. As if she were some sweet dessert on a silver platter all for you; taking your time. Popping your lips from her, you pressed her hips into the mattress. Ceasing her needy thrusts. “It’s my turn now, Els. Gotta be patient f’me. Can you do that?” You look up at her through your lashes, grinding against her glistening cunt.

Similar to how one would dangle a treat before a puppy—to get them to do what you want.

Her scarred eyebrow furrowed, nodding her head, feverishly. “Uh huh... Yeah,” Ellie’s breath hitched in her throat, watching you trail your lips closer to where she really wanted you.

She spread her legs for you, as you kissed around her mauve pussy. Gripping her firm thighs, prolonging that feeling of anticipation. Ellie threw her head back into the pillows, groaning in frustration. But she knew she couldn’t rush you—you never liked to be rushed.

Leaning your head on the inside of her thigh, you ran a finger through her wet folds, snickering to yourself. Did Cat ever make you this wet? You thought, sliding her slick over her clit.

“Never…” Ellie responded, leaning on her elbows looking down at you between her legs. You paused, not realizing that you said your thoughts aloud. Her swollen lips pulled into a shit-eating smirk; she was egging you on. It was villainous, nefarious even, to bring up her girlfriend during this moment. That may have not been your intention, but Ellie couldn’t have cared less.

All she cared about was how your fingers played with her, dredging moans from the lowest parts of her stomach. Making her have to cover her mouth with her tattooed forearm--Cat never made her do that. Not often, anyway.

You slung one of her legs over your shoulder, pushing the other against the mattress—diving into her cunt with your tongue. She was just as sweet as your remembered, like tree sap, and you sucked her up as such. Switching between thrusting your tongue into her hole, and suckling her clit; popping it from your mouth like it was candy.

She writhed because of your touch, lifting her hips off the bed as if she wanted to get away from you—but both of you knew that wasn’t true. You just pressed harder into her, making out with her pussy. Time was nothing but a construct to you between her legs; you had all the time in the world to make her feel good. Fingers grazing the strip of auburn hair leading to where your lips met—a landing strip.

You couldn’t have been happier, pleasing her so!

Sweet, pitchy moans came from her, the ones that slipped from around the forearm she bit—trying to be mindful. But, when you slipped two fingers into her, keeping your lips wrapped around her throbbing bud, a high-pitched shriek released. You moaned into her pussy, fluttering your eyes shut at the sounds she was making. It was music to your ears.

Feeling her eyes on you, half-lidded and dark than usual, you look up. “S— So fucking g— good… Uh!” She stammered, breathing heavily as she neared her climax. Collecting spit in your mouth, you dribbled it from your mouth. A glob of saliva mixed with her cum falling onto her blushing bud. Ellie moaned your name in a way that sent chills down your spine. Curling your hips into the mattress.

Her inner walls tighten around your curling fingers, letting you know that she was close. But that’s when you pulled away, massaging her tense thigh. Ellie sobbed, banging her fist against the bed. “You’re being such an asshole, baby. Nothing's every straight forward with you." She complained, rolling her hips against nothing as you switched positions.

Baby, baby, baby… You loved when she called you that. Even when you were the one calling the shots.

“Am I really…?” You breath, crawling up her body. Intertwining your legs, your pulsating buds meeting at the center of you.

“Ngh…” She whined at the contact, looking between the middle of your glistening bodies. “You're fuck-- fucking insane... Uh...” Ellie pleaded, words breaking up as you began rutting against her. Her wide eyes looking up at you as a grin stretched onto your lips; riding her into next fucking week.

Gripping onto her thigh, juices mixing at the center of you. You lifted her leg over your shoulder, surprising yourself with how flexible she was. Sloppily, you dragged your lips against her calf, unable to hold the sounds of pleasure coming from your throat.

“F— Fuck, yeah… Yeah!” Her orgasm hit her like a ton, causing her to shake under your quick rutting. Ellie’s eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming feeling of her climax, sucking in a taut breath—not realizing that you weren’t stopping.

She began to squirm under you, gripping your thigh, trying to push you off. Whining and sobbing, but when you leaned down, hooking her leg under your arm—pressing your chest against hers, delicately kissing her flushed freckled skin; Ellie held onto you. One hand supporting your rutting hips, the other gripping your hair; moaning and breathing into your ear as a personal boost.

Although, she was overstimulated, she begged you to kiss her. “Please, kiss me— I wanna kiss you, baby…” Ellie babbled, wanting that intimacy of skin to skin—she wanted nothing but your lips as you came undone; just like the first time.

The rhythm of your hips began to falter, hinting at your release. Inhaling, sharply, you whined against her lips. Finally slowing your hips down to a sensual roll. You released her leg, settling comfortably between her thighs—lazily making out with her. Her hands cradled your back, holding you with a sort of gentleness only she could harbor.

She began to pepper kissing at the corner of your lips, toward your cheek. It was innocent and full of… Love.

This wasn’t for the thrill of anything but reuniting with a first love again.

Your eyes were shut, melting into her sweet touch. “Ellie,” You chanted, furrowing your brows. Uh oh. “Ellie,” You repeated, trying to get her attention.

“Mhm.” She answered, finding your eyes with her round ones. Looking up at you like you were the only woman in the world. Despite all of what you just did, there was so much innocence in her deep, evergreen eyes.

Your features grew hot under her gaze, eyes welling up with hearty tears. Lips quivering, working a sob up in your throat. Crawling off of her, you stuff your face into your pillows—trying to cover up the embarrassment that was crying after sex.

The only thrill that was apparent was your love for her. She made your heart jump and skip a beat—nobody else could do that. You thought that hooking up would’ve made things easier, but it was the total opposite; things just got so much harder because now there’s so much more to hide.

“Woah,” Ellie turned on her side, reaching for you as you hid from her. Her hands massages your shoulders and caressed your skin to soothe you. “Sex with me is so bad that I made you cry?” She rasped, chuckling under her breath, joking.

You peer over your shoulder, sniffling. “What? No. No, Ellie, you were perfect— more than perfect.” Gaining some courage, you turned on your side to face her. And, Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes off you, or her hands.

Lightly, she collided the palm of her hand with the side of your ass, squeezing your warm flesh. “Then, what’s the problem? You know I don’t like seeing you cry…” She spoke, wiping away the tears that were staining your cheeks.

Seeing how gentle she was with you only made you want to cry more—sob into her actually. “It’s just… When you leave my room tonight… You’re going back to her— to Cat.” You mutter, holding onto her wrist that connected to your face. “I’m being selfish, Els— just like you wanted. I don’t want you to go back to her.”

She scooted closer to you, looping her arms around your neck. “I thought you were going to reject me, again.” Ellie chortled, placing a chaste kiss on your nose. You rolled your eyes, leaning into her arm. “You know, for your appearance and shit—“

“Ellie, shut up. I’m trying to be serious.”

That lovely boyish laugh came from her as she tucked her head into your neck. Clinging to you like a bear holding onto a stiff tree. Ellie had always been a bit of a cuddle bug. “I’m being serious, too. But… Go on, babe.”

You dragged your fingers along her back, causing her to shift a little bit. She was awfully ticklish. “I thought we were done for good after your seventeenth— I thought I stopped loving you because of it… I guess that isn’t true, like, at all.” You scoffed at yourself, nuzzling more into your touch. Squeezing your eyes shut as if she were going to slip from you. However, Ellie wasn’t planning on going anywhere—whether you were on top of her, beside her; hell, across the fucking room! She wasn’t going anywhere.

Tears began to well into your eyes again as you clutched her. “I’m so sorry for hitting you, Ellie. I’m so sorry.” You weeped into her shoulder, allowing her warmth to nurse you. “I shouldn’t have done it… I wish I could take it back." You couldn't help but wonder what life would be like if that never happened. Would the two of you still be together?

“It’s okay… I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. Listen, hey,” She pulled back to meet your trembling eyes, still finding ways to wipe your tears. “I know you like the back of my fucking hand. You would’ve never done that if I didn’t say what I said— I should be the one saying I’m sorry. And, I am very sorry.” She spoke from the heart, as your hearts held each other—chest to chest you were; skin to skin. It was all so intimate.

A smile spread on your swollen lips, pushing pieces of her hair behind her ear. “If it makes you feel any better… Joel adopting me is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.” She leaned in toward your lips, peering at them, entranced. “The other was meeting you.” Her lips met yours, kissing them languidly. You opened up for her, allowing her to explore your mouth with the utmost of trust. Running your hands along her scalp, tugging.

She was such a charmer. The truest of charmers—full of nothing but endearment.

“Are you gonna break up with Cat—?” You pulled back, only a few inches from her face. “That’s not a question, actually… I need you to break up with her.” The truth was, after this spontaneous little hook up, you’ve come to the conclusion of a fundamental truth: Ellie was yours, and you didn’t want to share. First dibs, right?

“I mean, now wouldn’t be the best time. But, I do plan on breaking up with her— how else could I spend more time with you?” She attempted to smooth her words over.

You stiffen, scooting back a bit more to see her. “Okay, so… Can I get a timeline, Ellie?”

The artist sighed, averting her eyes. “I don’t know a timeline, right now— after Thanksgiving? I don’t know.” A wrinkle formed between her thick eyebrows, responding to your charged words. Her tone leaked with defense and it pinched a nerve within you.

“You don’t know?” You questioned, weakly. Quickly, you parted completely from her, swinging your legs over your bed. This wasn’t going to be a mistress situation—you refused for it to be that.

She called your name, sitting up on her elbow and forearm. “Baby, don’t be like that—“

“I’m not being like anything, baby.” You mock her, standing up to walk over to the shirt you threw to the side. Ellie couldn’t help but ogle your naked frame, sitting up the bed. She even watched you slide on those lace panties she barely noticed before.

“Hey! I was gonna keep those!”

“You snooze, you lose—“ You pick up her clothes, tossing them in her direction. “Get dressed, Ellie.”

Your demeanor had completely changed; it hardened because of her uncertainty. Ellie had been planning to break up with Cat for a long time, but now the pressure was on. Believe it or not, she didn’t want to drop a bomb on her partner during the holiday’s—and they still lived together. Certain arrangements had to be made before she could just break it off. She wanted to be with you, only you, but there was still a lot to think about.

You stand with your arms crossed, raising an eyebrow. “Get dressed, please. We have a long day tomorrow-- actually, today.” You gestured you hand: Hurry up, after correcting yourself, glancing at the alamr clock. It was one-something in the morning. Ellie scoffed, shaking her head. She slid on her sweatpants, purposely leaving her boxer shorts behind—slyly tucking them under your pillow. Maintaining eye contact, she pulled her tank top on, attempting to do that thing she always did—lure.

“You can’t seriously be mad at me, y/n…” She pouted, meandering toward you. Placing her hands on your hips, pulling you flush against her. “You can’t possibly want me to break up with her on Thanksgiving.”

“I didn’t say to break up with her today, but an estimated time would suffice.” You assert. “I’m not some side chick, or— or some mistress, whore, or whatever.”

She nodded, pursing her lips, squeezing your hips as an affirmation of want. “You’re right. You’re not any of those things. But Cat and I live together and a good portion of my stuff is under her care— I can’t just break up with her all willy nilly."

“Wow, so now you’re being super thoughtful.” You roll your eyes, scoffing.

Ellie chortled. “I guess you could say… I got some things out of my system.” She leaned toward you, glancing at your lips. But you didn’t press forward, at all. You just stared at her with a raised eyebrow and a subtle smirk on your lips.

“Ha ha. You’re so funny— I’m dying of laughter.” You intone, pulling her hands from your hips. “I’ll walk you down. You have a girlfriend to get back to.”

She rolled her eyes, sliding her feet into a pair of slippers. Opening your door, you led her out of your bedroom, taking the same path down the stairs you made going up. Hoping that the creaking would cease for a moment. “This was supposed to help us, not hurt us…” Ellie whispered, slightly saddened, holding onto your hand.

You sighed, looking over your shoulder. “It didn’t hurt us. I’m just irritated, okay?” When you appeared in front of the back door, you turned on the light. Unable to leave her completely, you walked out onto the porch with her—hand still in yours.

“Don’t be mad at me.” Ellie tugged you close, placing her hands on your shoulders. Sliding up the softness of your neck and jaw. You responded with a shrug, reaching up to hold her wrists. Thumb caressing the soft thin skin, feeling the lumps of her pulsing veins.

The freckled artist leaned forward to plot her lips on yours again, but you spoke before she could do so. “Abby’s comin’ to dinner tonight…”

She paused, dropping her hands from you, immediately. “What the fuck?”

You ran your tongue over your lips. “Consider that me getting you back for; one, bringing her up to my parents, and two, not giving me a timeframe for your stupid breakup with Cat— you’re on thin ice, Ellie Williams. Thin. Ice.”

The auburn-haired woman scoffed, peering off into the dark. “What? You think I care about her? I don’t even know who she is.” She was too stubborn to admit the amount of irritation that boiled inside of her at the sight of that blonde bit--

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you were looking at her at the Tipsy Bison…” You told, crossing your arms. “The quicker you get rid of Cat, the quicker I get rid of Abby— simple.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. “You’re so childish.”

“I prefer to call it… Whimsy.” You sneer, sizing her up. “Goodnight, Picasso.” You turn to walk back into your house, but her hand reaches for your wrist.

“I love you… Okay?” It was spoken with an airiness that made your knees weak. Ellie was trying to words on her tongue, feigning confidence. Even though, she was still so unsure about how you felt. The slight, twitching furrow in her brow tugged at your swelling heart.

Your other hand grazed hers, comfortingly. “I love you.” The words came from you with certainty, caressing the exposed skin of her hand. “See you later, I guess. Since it’s morning.”

“Yeah, see you later.” She kissed your hand before hopping off the porch.

You watched her jog back toward the guesthouse for a few minutes before entering the house. Shutting the doors behind you, your body filled with giddiness the moment that you were alone, not realizing there was another presence in the dark kitchen.

On cue, he cut the lights on, standing with his strong arms crossed over his chest. Your breath hitched in your throat, freezing in your bare-footed steps. “I don’t wanna assume nothin'… So, I suggest you start explainin’ what in the hell’s bell’s is goin’ on here.”

Fuck.

taglist: @autisticintr0vert , @liasxeatt , @hopingforgoodblogs , @lia-winther , @macaroni676 , @tobiotruther , @anewkindofloove , @fatbootymuncher , @maiaska , @culuvr , @0phantom0 , @onlinelesbo , @bbnbhm , @lovelaymedown , @lamorenita , @scatapple (some of these weren't showing up but i hope i got everyone who asked)

[cybrasigilism]

I would die if you wrote an nsfw fic about Namgyu x reader 😭😭😭 like what if he’s your toxic ex or you guys just hate each other and it grows into an attraction… I love your writing so much btw!!

IFHY (Player 124/Nam-gyu x Reader)

warnings: smut of course, i mean have you seen my page? | not proofread | lowercase intended | unknown identities | nam-gyu’s a dick | unprotected sex (the pullout method is not reliable ladies and gentlemen) | fingering | degradation | rough sex | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions for the character are different from yours

character: nam-gyu (player 124)

A/N: there needs to be a larger selection of GIFs for 124 man, i can’t find any ones of him NOT being in the background its unfortunate. hope y’all enjoy as always, i found this one sort of challenging to write, it’s definitely out of my comfort zone but i still had fun!

MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, readers discretion is advised

• ─────────────── •

toleration.

that was the one thing keeping you going in these new, uncertain circumstances of yours. as long as you laid low, didn’t complain, and simply tolerated your new life then maybe, things wouldn’t be so bad.

that seems easy, except for the fact that there was one thing, rather one person, you just could not tolerate. and that was player 124.

sure, the crowd he stuck to was overall quite obnoxious, but for some reason 124 in particular really got under your skin. first off, you didn’t like how he and his purple-haired crackhead friend would always pick on that player 333. sure, he may have scammed lots of people out of their money, but surely those idiots had bigger things to focus on over being petty nuisances.

secondly? the way he would stare at you with such hate for no good reason. you assumed it was probably due to the fact that you constantly voted X, even though you both knew it didn’t make much of a difference. it didn’t bother you that he hated you, seeing as the feeling was more than mutual, but you just wish he would focus his stare somewhere else.

and lastly, every single thing about him and his mannerisms just pissed. you. off. his whole smug demeanour really made you want to land a punch square between his eyes, but you figured he might actually be into that since he clearly had a death wish, seeing as how he always picked the O side of the vote. you were convinced that had it not been for his tweaker of a leader, he would have died a long time ago. to be honest, you wished he had.

that’s why, when he grabbed you by the sleeve and yanked you into a room for the mingle game, you were completely stunned. you would have figured 124 would have left you for dead, hell, you would have expected him to purposely knock you to the ground. maybe it was the adrenaline that made him grab you, maybe it was that he actually… wanted to save you? no, couldn’t have been.

unless..?

“what the hell did you do that for?” you asked, out of breath. he furrowed his brows, looking down on you with that usual stare. “well?” you continued, louder this time. he let out a chuckle before taking a glance out at all the unlucky players who couldn’t find groups.

“what’s so funny?” you questioned, steadying yourself against the wall. he looked back at you, with that shit eating smirk that you hated so much. “i just didn’t realize that you wanted to die that badly.” his response took you aback, a sour expression appearing on your face.

“oh, i suppose i should thank you for yanking me by the arm like that then?” you huffed, rolling your shoulder as you adjusted your sleeve. he approached you, and you suddenly felt the urge to swallow the saliva you just became alarmingly aware of. “you don’t have to thank me now..” he started, looking you up and down in such a way that made your cheeks grow warmer. “you can just pay me back later.”

just then, the doors unlocked, and player 124 was more than happy to swing it open and head back to his little group, not without looking back at you with a sly wink. you stayed stood in the room for a brief moment, still leaned against the wall, trying to process why your cheeks felt so hot all of a sudden.

oh god, you weren’t… catching feelings for 124, were you?

———

it was lights out when you started thinking about your guys’s brief mingle room interaction. you still couldn’t wrap your mind around what you were feeling, but now you found yourself squeezing your legs together as you thought more and more about player 124. you couldn’t believe this, you didn’t even know this assholes name, and now he’s got you all hot and bothered like this?

you knew what you had to do, and you were not proud of it.

after about 5 solid minutes of convincing the circle-masked guard to allow you access to the bathroom, you quickly secured yourself in a stall. “i can’t believe i’m actually doing this right now.” was all you could think as you pulled your pants around your knees, along with your underwear, and slid your hand between your thighs. you had hoped no one could hear as you began to moan softly, just as your thoughts spiralled about player 124, and the tension between you two in the little mingle room; how much you wished he would have taken you right there, inside that cramped space. you felt yourself approaching the edge when you heard something that made your heart stop.

his voice. his voice?

something inside you prayed to god that somehow your imagination had just been that good, but you heard him again, calling out your number from just beyond the stall door. you were too petrified to say, think, even do anything. but of course, he pulled the door open and there you were, hand between your thighs with the single most horrified expression painted on your face.

“wow, couldn’t even wait for me, huh?” he mocked, his gaze fixated between your legs. “what the fuck are you looking at, pervert?!” you whisper-shouted, so as to not alert the guards. he laughed, and you don’t know how or why but that did something to you, as if your fingers currently on your clit were helping matters at all.

“pervert? i’d say you’re the perverse one, seeing how you were just jacking off in the public bathrooms. are you that much of a slut that you can’t keep your hands outta your pants for more than a night?” his degrading was not easing things, matter of fact it was only turning you on, and you were sure he knew that. you started to pull your hand away, and he shut the two of you inside the confined stall.

“what do you think you’re doing?” 124 asked, now on his knees so you had to meet his gaze. “i was just-“ you started, before being quickly interrupted by him grabbing your now exposed hand. “stopping?” he finished your sentence for you, cocking his head to the side with the same wide eyed faux-curious expression you’re sure you’ve seen him give others in the games. “don’t you dare stop on my account.” you tried to avoid eye contact, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “i can’t do it.. not in front of you.” your response felt totally out of character for yourself, and 124 totally called bullshit then and there. “fine, then i guess i’ll just have to help you then won’t i?” his boldness shouldn’t have shocked you, and you don’t think it did. you barely had tome to wrap your head around the fact that he now had slithered his own hand between your legs before-

“oh my god.” was drawn from your lips as he slid his fingers up your slick folds, brushing against your clit as he rubbed up at down your pussy. “holy shit, i’ve hardly done anything and you’re already soaked.” he exclaimed smuggly, earning an attempted glare from you. “oh please, don’t take all the credit.” you scoffed, using every bit of willpower you could muster to ensure you didn’t moan, god forbid. “i think i can,” he chuckled, continuing what would be the beginning of his assault on your nerves, “seeing as you know you got this fucking wet thinking of me.” when you least expected it, he pushed not one, but two fingers into your cunt. at this point you saw stars, feeling yourself clench around him so soon you felt as though you should be ashamed of yourself, but you didn’t care.

“shit, already so tight for me, huh?” you could tell through 124’s tone than he was totally turned on by this, by how horny he made you. “if i had known you’d be this easy, i would have done this a while ago.” normally you would be completely offended by his words, but when he started circling your clit with his thumb you really couldn’t bring yourself to mind at all. “p-please…i need to..” you could barely get your words out through your moans, you wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t understand you. “need ta’ cum, so bad-“

“oh yeah? you need it?” he taunted, only increasing his pace as he pumped his fingers knuckle-deep inside your throbbing pussy. “i don’t think you’ve earned it yet.” he stopped suddenly. you cried out at the abrupt loss of friction as he released his fingers from your firm grip. he took in the sight of how desperate you were as he lowered his pants, ordering you to free up your seat, to which you were shocked you could even stand at this point. “if you need to cum so bad, why don’t you show me that you deserve it.” he grabbed your arm and pulled you over to him. you couldn’t process what situation you were in just now. one minute you were convinced you hated the guy, and now your pussy was inches away from his dick? you can’t say you minded your predicament, you were just terribly shocked.

“why the hesitation? didn’t you say you needed to cum?” the return of the mocking tone was not lost on you, and you could feel yourself begin to shake. not out of fear, but out of pure anticipation. “i’m sorry, i just…” you began, before he grabbed you hips and pulled you down onto his lap, the both of you gasping at the abrupt feeling of pure ecstasy. “holy shit!” you cried out, gripping onto the walls of the stall as 124 began to bounce you on his cock. it’s almost as though he was setting the pace for what he wanted you to do, and you quickly caught on, sliding up and down his dick as his grip on your hips hardened.

“god you’re such a pathetic little whore,” he said through gritted teeth, slapping your ass while you rode him, earning a hearty moan from your lips. “oh, yeah? you like getting slapped like the little cockslut you are?” “y-es! oh fuck, oh fuck.” it was as if you were in a trance, telling him anything he wanted to hear. “yeah? imma need to hear you say it.” he teased, you could still feel him controlling your every move through the grasp he had on your hips. you tell him exactly what he wants. “i..i’m your..” you moan senselessly “your little cockslut-“

“fuck yeah, at least you know what you’re good for..” his words started to get a bit unsteady, maybe it was because of how tight you were clenching on him. “oh shit, are you close already?” he gasped, to which you responded something unintelligible. “fuck, i can barely understand you, babbling like a needy little whore.” you couldn’t take it, the way he made you feel was immeasurable to anything you’ve ever experienced. all you wanted in that moment was player 124, you never wanted him to stop pounding up into you with such tenacity.

with one final squeeze of your cunt, he held your hips down and a hot feeling quickly filled your insides. a slew of profanities were expelled from his lips and you felt your whole body shake. as soon as your breathing both steadied, he motioned you to get off his lap and he pulled his pants back up. you, however, could not possibly muster yourself to stand up at the moment, your legs still vibrating from the wild ride you just experienced.

“like i said,” he started, “if i had known you’d have been this easy.. woulda fucked you a lot sooner.” he turned and left the restroom, and you stayed slumped against the wall. now you could say one thing was for sure..

you definitely tolerated player 124.

• ─────────────── •

thanks so much for reading! i know it’s sort of different than what i usually write but i hope it’s satisfactory! as usual please, if you have any advice or constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing it’s greatly appreciated!

have a great day/night 💋

tags: @gabbystinks

[jjkarmy091]

Second Best- Jungkook (part 8 )

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Wordcount: 5.781

Author's note: It took me a lot but here it is. Got so many blocks writting this and I'm not satified with it. It doesn't matter how many time I write and rewrite it, it feels like it's never good enough but I tried my best so please go easy on me. Hope you like it and let me know if you want a next chapter or not. Also: I'm sorry for any mistakes

Love you loads <3

When Y/n woke up the next morning she could swear her head was gonna fall off. It was one of those headaches it makes you wanna clung onto the bedsheets and never leave ‘till the next day. Flashbacks of the night before went through her brain but she brushed them off. She wanted to enjoy the few days she had taken, yet she’s still thinking about the same. She thought she was doing a good job but Taehyung’s words didn’t really help too, she definitely was going to face Sewoon with all these facts. Y/n always chose kindness over anything else but would all of that have gotten her anywhere? Looking back, she had serious doubts about that. 

Getting up from the bed and heading to the bathroom she notices everything is still very quiet which means Lisa is still asleep. Y/n wants to do something nice for her so she decides to make a huge breakfast once she knows that food is Lisa's undoing and starts preparing things without making too much noise (or at least trying to). Everything’s almost ready when Y/n listens to steps aproaching the kitchen/living room area as she pours some orange juice in Lisa’s cup saying good morning. Lisa looks at her and smiles, answering her back and sitting down.  

“what’s all this?”  

“It’s just a way to thank you for being such a great person to me. I know I've been hard to handle these last days but I want you to know that I truly feel grateful for everything you’ve done for me so far. If it wasn’t for you I don’t know how things would’ve ended up for me, I’d probably be crying in my room, thinking how much I suck because the guy I’m in love with doesn’t love me back” 

“I told you Y/n, it’s completely fine. I always liked you. You bring such a positive vibe and you’re so kind and fun to be around. It’s good to be around you and if I can help you somehow I will.” A few minutes of silence passed until Lisa asked what she was dying to know. “Did you talk to him?” Y/n stops suddenly, swallows hard and shakes her head.  

“No” 

“care to explain why?” 

“I’ve been thinking about your words and you’re right! I have to stop being a pussy and be real with myself and my feelings, not for others but for me. All this mess started because I'm always comparing myself to others all the time. I was so scared that Sewoon and Jungkook would meet and I was the bridge for them to start something. I allowed this. If only I wasn't so afraid and had more confidence in myself maybe it would be me in Sewoon's place and that kills me inside Lisa. For once in my life it would have been simple and sincere and I'm the only one to blame for this."

"What makes you think he was never interested in you Y/n? Because from what you told me it seemed to me that he was quite into you” 

"He definitely wasn't Lisa, you're confusing things. He found my attitude towards him funny when we first met, I don't know. But he never showed any signs, he never said anything and I was afraid of destroying the friendship we were building by saying something. He even used to go on dates. At the end he would go to the coffee shop and we would talk about it and stuff.” 

Lisa frowned “So he went on dates but never hooked up with them afterwards? a boy in his prime, with basic needs and would always come to you afterwards? You never found anything weird?” 

“For what he told me he had just gotten out of a complicated relationship. I think he was more interested in meeting new people, go out for a bit, clear his head.” 

“and come back to you in the end” Lisa mocks while Y/n throws a piece of bread at her, hitting her in the forehead. “Don’t be annoying” 

“Y/n you may not understand much about boys but I do and that's not normal for someone who don't have feelings for you. At best, he would go home.” Y/n drank some of her juice. "stop it! if that was true he wouldn't have gone straight to my supposed best friend. Why would he do that if he was interested in me?  The way he looked at her, how he said she was the best thing that ever happened to him and that he would never be able to love anyone the way he loves her. Not to mention what he did for Sewoon. She told me some things and all I could think about was how I wish it was me instead. I hoped it was me but I'm a coward, that's why I'm still here, 23 years old and a virgin. Even in that regard, Sewoon was lucky.” Y/n looks at her plate, trying to avoid eye contact with Lisa, knowing that would be enough to make her start crying but kept talking

“How she described the way he touched her, grabbed her, how he -- in short, everything. There was this one time she couldn't stop talking about how and where they did it so I invented that I was super busy and couldn't talk so she could leave and I could cry in peace. I swore never again.” 

“After everything Tae told you do you still think things are as Sewoon says?” Y/n didn’t answer, instead she got up and started taking the dishes onto the table, washing them. Lisa got up too, leaving her plate in the sink "always listen to things with a hint of doubt but specially with your heart." Y/n decided to change the subject. 

“What are we doing today?” Lisa laughed “let’s introduce you to this place the right way. See something else than snowboards” With this they got ready for the day. Lisa already knew the place with the palm of her hands so she knew what and where to go with Y/n.  

Even tho her mind was still in another place she actually found herself enjoying their time there. She enjoyed it so much that she didn't even notice the days passing by until the day for them to leave had arrived. Although the first days were complicated now she didn't mind staying another day or two but there were things to fix that she was eager to mend and she wouldn't find the so needed peace she wanted until everything was cleared up.

On their last day there Lisa suggested to go for a hot chocolate where they found Tae and his friend once again. They saw each other a lot during their staying and ended up clearing everything up and agreed that Sewoon was a NO topic. That night they went to a club all together and Y/n remembers having so much fun and getting so drunk that she ended up on top of Tae's friend. (Not the way you guys are thinking, pervs ;)

Y/n already had too much to drink and once they were stepping out of the club she tripped and Tae's friend was there and tried to hold her only for Y/n to bring him down with her. All of them laughed and they even took a picture of them both on the floor in a suspicious position. She just hoped any of it would end up on social media, at least for now because she knew either Sewoon or Jungkook would see it, but of course things never go the way she wanted them too. On their way home Y/n got a notification on instagram saying Taehyung tagged her in a photo so she opened it and saw a set of pictures, the first being Y/n, Lisa, Tae and his friend with drinks on their hands and Tae's arm around Y/n's waist and the second just a photo of Y/n and Tae making a funny face among with other random pics with the caption “Glad to see an old flame again. Loved these days with the best people. Let's repeat it next year” Fuck

She still had two days before going back to work and a few hours' journey ahead of her and the last thing she wanted was to end these wonderful days in an anxiety attack at an airport far from home because of a set of pictures.

It was a peaceful trip, they both took the opportunity to sleep and rest during the flight since when they arrived they had a lot to do. Y/n agreed to move to Lisa's house just as she had proposed. One night before going to sleep she spoke with her landlord and canceled the lease so she had little time to organize her stuff and take them to Lisa's. As soon as the plane landed they looked at each other and smiled, grabbed their things and slowly walked out of the airport where Lisa's father was waiting for them. As soon as they got into the car, Lisa said 

“I'm sad it's over but I'm happy we're getting home. I honestly love traveling but the moment I get to my space and make myself comfortable at home is always the best of all. Speaking of it, we still have to get your things. How about we go to my house, unpack, have lunch and then pack the rest of your stuff? Unless you're tired”

“I agree with you Liz, nothing feels better than the comfort of home, and yes, I was thinking the same. I still have two days before going back to work so I have to make the most of it. Right now, i just really want to eat I’m starving and I can’t function without food” They both laugh. Lisa asked her father to turn on the radio and as soon as he did, Tate mcrae's new song started to play. Needless to say they started singing with all their power until they arrived at Lisa's house. Y/n didn't remember having that much fun, not even with Sewoon and she had known her for years.  

After arriving at the place, her father said goodbye to them and left their bags at the front door so they could unpack them. They decided to order Taco Bell and while they waited for food and for the washing machine to stop, they sat down on the sofa. Y/n was looking at her phone until she heard herself say 

“I don’t know what to do” Lisa gets confused and kept her silence in order for Y/n to say something else, getting comfy on the couch. It took her a while to speak again.

“I-  we got back to reality and I can't ignore the fact that I never spoke to Jungkook again ever since that day. It's making me nervous because my mind is racing 1000 percent, I mean, imagine he no longer wants to talk to me or listen to what I have to say.. In hindsight I should have said something to him but I was so hurt. Furthermore, I received a message from Sewoon asking what the hell I was doing with Tae without telling her. Let's just say it wasn’t a very nice message. What should I do Lisa?” 

“First of all breath Y/n. Being like this won't get you anywhere. Second: I honestly think you should send a text to Jungkook, tell him that you need to talk to him and that you know that ignoring him wasn't the right choice but that there are a lot of things he doesn't know and that it's difficult to explain. Ask him to meet, preferably in a place other than your work because it will draw a lot of attention on you. You still have time to get back to work, make the most of it before - " Before Lisa finished, the washing machine was heard making its characteristic sound and Lisa apologized and said she'd be right back while Y/n continued sitting on the sofa looking stupidly at her phone. Lisa was right, she couldn’t drag this anymore.

“Hi Jungkook, how are you? I hope you’re doing well. I’m doing good. I know i probably kept you up at night, or maybe you didn’t even think of me but still I’m writting this to give you some heads up on why I disappeared the way I did. Truth is, I had a lot going on these last few months and I know that’s not an excuse and I was on the wrong for not replying to your texts but honestly I didn’t know what else to do. I was in a real mess. I still am and the way I thought it was possible to get out of this chaos inside my mind was to escape my reality and move away. I'm sorry, I know I should have said something but I'm ready to explain everything to you now, if you still want to.  

I love you.” 

During the rest of the day Lisa helped Y/n move her things to her new place. The fact that she didn’t have a lot of things made it easier. After that, they went grocery shopping and ended up passing by Y/n’s work and decided to walk in being greeted for her co-worker Sana 

“Ohh well well well. Who do we have here? Good evening lady and welcome back! thought you’d never show your face around here again. I already miss you, how are you doing? And most importantly, when will you return? I'm so tired of putting up with the boss alone, everyday he gets more and more annoying” She says making Y/n and Lisa laugh. 

“It’s been wonderful having some days to actually rest, sad to see it end” Yn says with a smile. “How’s it going around here?” 

“Pretty much the same you know. Had your really hot friend coming over everyday at the same hour he used to come. I guess he didn’t believe me when I told him you took some days off. Weird you didn’t, you guys were so close and were together all the time I thought you’d end up together after he broke things off with Sewoon. The last time I saw him was two days ago with her actually. They came here together.” Y/n’s heart stopped for a second and she had a hard time breathing all of a sudden 

“Together how?”  

“Like I said they came in here together, sat at that table over there and chatted for a while. It was a very busy shift and I was alone here so I couldn’t see or hear a lot. When it calmed down I looked at them, Jungkook was holding her hand and saying something to her while she looked like she was crying or about to. Then I couldn't understand anything else because several customers came in at the same time. When I noticed, he was already coming to pay and Sewoon was at the entrance waiting for him. That day he didn't say anything, he looked somewhere behind me but didn't speak, he just smiled, paid and left but I couldn’t see if he went alone or with her. I’m sorry”  

Of course this was going to happen, all she had to do was disappear for a few days and they wouldn't waste time getting on top of each other. She was so stupid. Was she really worthless? Lisa looked at her worriedly but didn't say anything, simply ordered two drinks while Y/n thanked her and looked out the window. If she had known, she would have enjoyed the trip even more without thinking about those two. She felt bad about leaving Jungkook in a vacuum and he was very much entertained. She always had a tiny bit of hope but what for? Sana had left to prepare their order when Lisa spoke 

“Don't pay attention to it Y/n. It could be many things, you don't know. If he really was with her why was he always coming over and asking about you?” 

“Because that’s what friends are supposed to do Lisa! They worry about each other, which makes sense given how I left the club that night and the fact that I didn't say anything to him in the following days made him think that something bad had happened to me. Everything friendship based.. Maybe that's why he didn't answer me, because he's with her. Sewoon must have shown him the photos we took with Tae on vacation. He was sure I was okay so he moved on with her, again.  

Lisa didn't have the chance to say anything because their order was given to them and they said goodbye to Sana and made their way to the car. Lisa started driving and to get home they had to pass by Y/n's old house. As they approached the road Y/n saw someone she knew very well, Sewoon and next to her was Jungkook in front of her old appartment. As if they could see her, Y/n leaned as far back as she could against the seat.  

""Lisa, for all that is most sacred to you, please don't stop here, don't look, don't do anything other than move as quickly as possible. Don’t ask me anything just go!" 

Always the second, never the chosen, as always. 

-------------------------------------------------------------- 

As they get to their now shared apartment Y/n tells Lisa that she's not hungry and if she doesn't mind she's going to rest because it was a very long day and that tomorrow is the last day and she wants to take the opportunity to organize the rest of her things and relax. Lisa says she doesn't mind at all, that she also feels the same and is going to rest, specially because the next day she has a last minute meeting.

Y/n tried to make Lisa not notice it but she's not stupid. As she drove past Y/n's old building she saw the silhouettes that bothered her so much and all she had to do was put two and two together upon seeing her reaction. The only thing she wanted was to park and give Sewoon a good slap and tell her everything she had been holding back so far.  

After getting home both went to their rooms. Y/n couldn’t get any sleep. She tossed and turned but sleep was far away.  Y/n looked at her phone and still no text or call from Jungkook. Why was she stupid and sent him a text? Clearly he wasn't worried at all, not even an "ok" he had responded. Suddenly she felt her eyes blurry and that was when she realized the tears rolling down her cheeks. She thought she was worth more, even if it was just in terms of friendship. After some time lost in her own thoughts, she decided to put on her headphones and try to get some sleep and managed to do so after a few hours. 

The next day, when she woke up it felt like she had been hit by a bus. Lisa had also gone out to deal with some matters at work, at least she remembered mentioning something about it. Once alone, Y/n had decided to stay in bed. Honestly she wasn't in the mood to do anything else and wanted to take to relax since she was going back to work the next day. Willingness? none. It was going to be hard but the way things were going neither Jungkook nor Sewoon were going to show up there or so she thought.

The next day her alarm went off and Y/n got ready for the day. She was going to do a double shift today since Sana was off, so she was on her own. For some reason she was nervous, it seemed like it was her first day again so her anxiety was on the roof. 

As incredible as it may seem, as soon as she arrived she saw her regular customers greeting her and telling her how much they missed her (most of them elderly people who used to frequent the shop even before she worked there and who had loved her since her first day) relaxed her immediately. Everything went very well. During her break Lisa went to see her and they chatted and drank coffee before going back to do the other part of the shift. Until then, everything was going perfectly. No sign of people she didn't want to see, she hadn't had any rude customers and her boss was in a very good mood. It was all too good to be true since luck is not something that goes on her side. 

Y/n was getting ready to close the shop and at that point she was usually alone. She was putting the chairs on the table when she heard the entrance bell signal that someone else was there with her. When she turned to inform the customer that they were closed, she came across someone she didn't want or even expeected to see.

In front of her was Jungkook with wet hair and helmet in hand. He seemed agitated, confused and angry. Very angry. Y/n couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in days. She stopped on the spot, what would she say or do? They hadn't seen or spoken to each other for almost a week and the atmosphere was tense and she just wanted to disappear. 

He looked at her with such an intense gaze that she had to turn away while saying "we are closed" and pretended to keep doing what she was doing. 

"Really? After days of complete silence while i was worried sick about you. After leaving without any kind of warning? After that stupid fight on the club and sudden departure with someone that neither Sewoon nor I knew, that's all you have to tell me? we are closed? Are you for real?” 

Y/n stopped doing what she was doing but kept her back to him. It’s a good thing he couldn't see her because her hands were like jelly, shaking so much that she thought she was going to faint right there, however continued to act tough and ignored him, took a deep breath and started walking to the counter until she felt a hand grab her arm.  

“Y/n please stop shitting me. I’ve been going crazy these last few days because of you and you act like you don't care. I don't know what's worse, your attitude or the fact that I don't recognize you at all" and with these words Y/n turned around and looked at him with tears threatening to fall. She released herself from Jungkook's hand and turned completely towards him. She was on the verge of bursting. 

“You. Out of all people YOU are the only one who can't say that. I did everything for you Jungkook. I was always there for you when you needed me, remember? I knew when you were good, when you were sad, when it wasn't the best time to talk and when you wanted to say something but didn't know how. You needed me and I was there but when it was the other way around, were you there for me? Did you care at all?” she sighed “All this because I didn't answer to some calls and texts from you? You were so worried about me that you were always tied to Sewoon, don't tell me you were also worried about me when you were inside her. Be honest Jungkook, you only remembered me when it suited you. Admit it, when it comes to me you don't think twice." 

Jungkook didn't say anything, he looked at her as if she had just stuck a knife into him. He expected everything but this version of Y/n. He had noticed for some time she was different but he never asked her because he didn't want to bring up the subject that was bothering her hoping she’d be the one to open up to him yet it seems like it was a bad decision to wait. Maybe he should have talked to her when he noticed it, he knows he was stupid but he wasn't going to give in now. He was about to speak again when Y/n continued her speech.

“Things weren't supposed to be like this but everything is already ruined so what I'm about to say won't make a difference and honestly I'm tired of staying silent so as not to hurt other people and try to please them. That's why I'm in this shit right now, so here it goes.” Y/n looks him straight in the eyes and more tears run down her face, it's now or never. 

“I’m in love with you Jungkook”

As soon as the words left her mouth, a sob came out as well. This is where it ends and she knows it. His expression changed from angry to pure shock. She knew him very well, but at this moment she couldn't read his thoughts, everything was so confusing, he seemed so confused and she didn't understand why. She was breaking and to avoid even more suffering said

“Please let's not talk about this anymore. Things are pretty obvious and we don't need to drag this out any further. I need to close this Jungkook, I'm tired and I need--" 

“How long Y/n? How long have you felt this way?” Jungkook's look was anything but disappointed. It was a look she couldn't decipher and she also didn't know if she wanted to. Y/n looked down and replied 

“ A few months after we met and started hanging out more” Jungkook turned around and placed his elbows on the counter and his hands resting on his head.  

“And you never thought to tell me? Don't you think that would be a good thing to do?” he sounded so mad. “All this time you had feelings for me and you never said anything, never showed any signs and now I'm the bad guy for moving on with my life? And why you’re talking about Sewoon? We broke things off a long time ago and you know it. You were there!” 

“Ohh please Jungkook, anything but that. I'm not blaming you for anything, in fact, I even supported you, remember ? it was ME who introduced you to Sewoon  because YOU wanted me to! Even if I told you earlier what would change? Every time you came to me it was either because you just had a dinner date or someone had asked for your number. You love to say I'm always on your mind, I guess that I wasn’t on it those nights. I'm just the girl you would share things with and ask for advice, you don't have to be very smart to see that.” 

“Is that why you left without saying anything?” Y/n looked at him and when he saw that he wasn't getting a response, he went to her and got so close that she could see all the moles on his face, some that she hadn't even realized he had.  

“Y/n answer me. It's the least I deserve.” Even though there was some distance between them, Y/n felt trapped so she decided to move away a little, hitting her back on the counter. 

“Yes. After our conversation at the club and the way I saw you look at Sewoon I realized that there was no chance for me, not that I didn't already know, but I got the confirmation that day and the way you were more interested in going to her than hearing me confirmed my guesses once again, yet it was when you went to her and you kissed in the middle of all those people that my heart was left in pieces. I looked at you and instead of being happy that my best friend was back with the girl he's in love with, I just wished it was me in her place. I had to get out of there before everyone saw me break." Y/n cleaned some tears that were running down

"In Sewoon's eyes I'm already pathetic, but in yours? I preferred to die than to know you had that image of me. I went to the bathroom and that's when I met a friend from school, we ended up talking and exchanging contacts. She asked me if I wanted a ride and I took the opportunity to leave, that's when you found me. That night I spent at her house and she made me an offer and invited me to go traveling with her. For my mental health I accepted and only God knows what it cost me not to have said anything to you and I'm really sorry for that, I know it wasn't the right thing to do, but Jungkook you didn't care either because when I texted you back you never answered me. You can't judge my actions after having done the same thing.”

“You could never be pathetic y/n. I've always said how much I admire the way you are and I keep praising that, I would never get that impression of you. I know you went on a trip with Lisa and two other boys, Sewoon had shown me pictures of you, that's why I don't understand Y/n, none of this adds up. And I never received any text from you because unlike you, every day I checked if you had come to work, if you sent anything or if Sewoon knew anything about you. That's the reason I was with Sewoon a lot more these last few days. It's sad that I only found out that you were back because I saw your friend here yesterday, I recognized her from those photos, so I went to her and asked her about you. She told me you were coming back to work today and to show up around this time because you'd be alone. I was crazy looking for you, wondering if you were in a dead end, that's when Sewoon called me saying you were okay, hanging with some guys you probably met there. She also sent me the pictures, that's when I calmed down.”

Y/n didn't know which part made her more shocked, if the fact that Lisa spoke to Jungkook or knowing Sewoon sent the photos to him and omitted the fact that they both know the boy in question.

"Oh my god. After all this time Sewoon is still keeping you in the dark. Well just so you know the guy who posted the pictures is Sewoons ex-boyfriend, the one she left you for. Remember when she broke up with you? Yeah it was because of him. There are definitely things you should clarify with her, as she changes everything that corresponds to reality. Things that don't concern me at all and to be honest I'm tired of this conversation, it doesn't matter anymore. Things happened and it's ove, so if you don't mind it was a complicated day --” She didn't expect Jungkook to get so close to her but the truth is that they were centimeters away from each other and that was making her even more nervous and uncomfortable. She tried to get around him but he put his arms on either side of Y/n's body, trapping her there.  

"Did it work? Did you forget about me there? Did any of those guys help you forget me?”  Y/n had no response, she was completely surrendered to looking between his eyes and lips. She wasn't brave enough to grab him and kiss him, specially since he was still fooling around with Sewoon or so she thought, even tho the denied it. Still she wouldn't feel good doing that even if Sewoon hadn't been the best friend, so she did what she does best, avoided the interaction.  

“"I had fun and regardless of things I don't owe you any kind of explanation. I finally learned my lesson and you're not the exception, Jungkook. You're the rule and I don't give second chances to get me hurt, not even to you. I don't want to continue in this agony every time I see you and ask myself why others and not me? It took me a long time to get there but I finally managed to understand that as long as I don't like and accept myself as I am, neither will others and for that reason I ask you not to come here again. This is a closed subject and one that I want to bury.”  

“We’re not done having this conversation Y/n, I have to tell you some-”  

“Yes we are Jungkook, don’t you get it? I just told you I’m in love with you. My best friend who’s in love with my other best friend, who's still into her ex boyfriend. Did you even hear what I said about Sewoon?"

" I don't care about Sewoon,Y/n. Don't you fucking get it? All this time the only person on my mind was you. I tried really hard not to call you because why would I need to know where you were or who you were with. In your eyes I dated your best friend but in my eyes the only thing that connected me to her was you."

"Lisa has been fixing something she didn’t break because of how weak I was to stand for myself. I’m tired of being this innocent and naive girl everyone can step on. I'm not blaming you Jungkook, you didn't know and things turned out this way and it's okay. It's over and I think it's the best for you and me. I’ll be here if you need something but right now I don’t want to be around you. I need to fix myself before being there for you or Sewoon again and if you really care about me you’ll respect that” 

“Y/n, you're not understanding I--"

“Please Jungkook, just go. Let me do this for me and maybe we can talk about this in the future and laugh about it.” He didn't say anything else, he swallowed hard, shook his head, picked up his helmet and left, slamming the door loudly and that's when y/n collapsed. 

"I love you Jungkook. I love you so much but I can't be your second option." Y/n said as she slid down the wall, succumbing to the pain of something she never had.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife @jk97bam @cryingoverpixelsetc @bhonbhon @lostinneocity @almostpurplelady @meowforluv @imagine-this-motherfucker @jk-190811 @cryingoverpixelsetc @11thenightwemet11 @rinkud @ayatie97 @jk-190811 @shaku1995