#like yeah girl it’s not a ‘is there something we can do to make it so you can?’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fangel · 1 day ago

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YVE !! ♡ my angel, your feedback means more than all the stars in the sky ଘ꒰ ॣ´͈ ᵕ `͈ ॣ꒱ଓ i’m going to scream with you under the cut

starting with the synopsis alskdwlmzap i mean who doesn’t see sunghoon and #WantThat ?! i fear he wouldn’t leave a room with me in one piece

as an evil, weird, off putting girl myself i had to represent !! she was so easy to write bc i was half self-inserting during this story 😭 i love her idc ! she never did wrong !!

m*n are rotten, and i wholeheartedly agree that 100 random m*n should be sacrificed monthly. honestly, put them all in jail to start until deemed worthy of being free ! ~ the father / reverend is the true evil here. absolute terrible man (but necessary for the plot) i love how you dragged him every chance you got LMAO he deserves all the hate “it’s time for you to die” IJBOL, so real

it was hitting real close to home while writing ㅠㅠ and you’re so right - she wasn’t born resilient, she had to become resilient because of the environment she grew up in !! and omg your comments about her made me realize how sad and angsty this story is (i didn’t even think it was that depressing while writing but ohmygod it really is ajskakf)

NOT THE “it’s nice to be seen, noticed” being a theme in my works 😭 am i exposing myself ?!? (yes)

sidenote — I LOVE ALL THE LIL MEMES AND GIFS SO MUCH HAHA the debby ryan ones always get me

i live love laugh when one of the love interests is a lil scared. yes, fear me, i love you but am also out to get you (in many ways, this adds to the mystery hehe) likkkke sunghoon doesn’t know what to do with all that !! … or does he?

THANK YOU! i pride myself in my weird creativity and no it’s not weird, it just means you’re a Real One. be giddy and excited !!!

you’re freaky comments kslakdpalb #REAL

soooo much religious trauma in this story. i’m the biggest nerd when it comes to theology and religious media (i honestly don’t know why, i don’t love or hate religion and im not religious (anymore), but something about it i’m always itching to write). i think it’s perfect for wanting to write about a relationship dealing with unlearning shame and guilt etc idk ! you get it? yeah, you do

reader is 100000% projecting her feelings / trauma onto him. she doesn’t even realize that until later and how ironically she kind of was acting like her father in a way. and you’re on the money again ! she does like ruining sunghoon and having power over something but eventually realizes she likes the company much more after being alone most her life

omg ty ily for loving my ‘evil’ mc :( 🤍 she’s so complex and so very human. loved how you described her because that’s exactly how i wanted her to come across. yeah she’s a little mean but how can we blame her 😔

NO YOU ARE CORRECT !!! jake in HoP is also jake from attic angel. just them as college students (tbh i don’t remember all my details from attic angel, but i did want him to make a cameo here so yes this is my multiverse)

FATHERLESS BEHAVIOR ! i screamed. but sunghoon is sooooo cute. i had to bring the babygirl hoon agenda to light bc he’s so sweet and loser boy coded to me

YES THE TEDDY BEAR SCENE it’s actually my favorite part of the whole story 😭 because she’s finally opening up to him and being somewhat vulnerable. tender intimate moments >> anything else. I LOVE SLOW BURN, AND I MEANT IT !! before writing on this account angst and slow burn was always my go to :)) also the blood oath scene is one of my favs. it was supposed to be longer but was lazy lol

(i have to reply to the comment, sorry not sorry) but i had to gut you open to blow on the boo-boos </3 i needed that fluff to feel extra rewarding after the angst

IM SOOOO HAPPY you feel this was made for you because it was !! it really truly was. you’re more than likely a lot like me and this story was a love letter to all the people that the world made me feel small. we are seen and we can and will be loved just as tenderly as we wish regardless of how negative we feel about ourselves or what others think, etc 🤍 (i swear i have no cameras watching you!! unless.. JK)

NOT YOU CALLING ME OUT ABOUT THE ROOMS HAHA college boys are truly a mess, you got me there. i remember my guy friends dorms and it was horrid. sunghoon would never tho..

i could reply to everything you said (i totally did out loud to myself while giggling and kicking my feet with a fat grin) but i’ll end with THANK YOUUUUU SO MUCH FOR TAKING YOUR TIME TO READ MY STORY AND EVEN MAKE COMMENTS WITH ALL THE PICTURES AND WHAT NOT IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME HOW YOU PUT EFFORT INTO YOUR RESPONSES. I LOVE YOU SO BAD AND ITS BC YOU I ENJOY WRITING AND SHARING MY WORK EVEN MORE <3 !!!!!!! may the most tender, kind, and warm love find you.

harvest of purity — sunghoon [ 박성훈 ]

pairing ⦂ sunghoon ⨯ fem. reader

synopsis ⦂ au in which an innocent, shy, and faithful sunghoon takes a summer job as a farmhand. he’s never indulged on his desires until the farmer’s daughter shows him a taste of sin. although riddled with guilt, he cannot deny or escape the new rousing feelings that impurify him. especially when she's set on ruining him every chance she gets.

genre ⦂ smut, slow burn romance, strangers to lovers word count ⦂ 29k tags ⦂ fluff and angst, repressed desires, innocence loss, guilt and shame, exploring relationships, falling in love, southern gothic vibes, summer au, clingy down bad sunghoon, ‘mean’ morally gray reader, both are weirdo loser freaks content advisory ⦂ mdni ! dark-ish content ⚠︎ sexually explicit content in four scenes: handjob, oral (m. rec.), dry humping, thigh fucking, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption!kink, degradation!kink, praise!kink, switch!hoon, he whines whimpers and cries; religious themes, concepts, corruption, and criticism; manipulation, animal death, blood, intense scenes, abusive parenting, gun mention and use

note ⦂ poured my heart out. i hope you love it as much as i do. dedicated to my other evil, off-putting, and/or weird girls┊reblogs and feedback encouraged ⇀ playlist ⸝⸝ masterlist 🌾

　You’re not sure what life in your small town was like before you were born. You can imagine it’s not too different from what it is now though. The thing about old country towns is they never seem to change. Open fields and miles of farmland. Two gas stations, one grocery store, a few family owned vegetable stands or in-home produce product shops. Only one notable neighborhood where the majority of the townspeople lived if not hidden somewhere else in the countryside. And too many churches to keep track of if the abandoned ones were included in the count.

You like to think your parents were happy before you too. Hopeful and optimistic when offered to take over your uncle’s farm. Excited for the next step in their relationship after their marriage. They were the ideal family dream coming to life: high school lovers, engaged after graduation, married, a career handed to them through family with a large property of land and lovely farmhouse. All that was left was to grow that family. To have children to not only help tend the fields and animals but run around barefoot, all smiles, and wide eyed.

You were positive that it was something they wanted.

But life couldn’t have been that easy for them; it would’ve been too gratuitous of a blessing.

The day you were born, your father knew there was something greatly wrong with you. He claimed that on the day you ripped your mother open, screaming and crying, that God spoke to him for the first time. He called it divine intervention. Believing the birth of your soul was a red-herring of all that was set to come but God would show him the light, the truth: that you were nothing short of evil and needed saving.

That year on the farm there was nothing but death. It only furthered your father’s harsh thinking of you. The crops and produce either died or rotted before it had the chance to grow or ripe. The animals were dropping dead from unknown illnesses. Every female livestock that gave birth passed in doing so. Barely any profits were made that year. Taxes were rising and so were the prices of nearly everything. It was a huge toll for your family, especially when raising their first child. Before you were even conscious of the situation everything was already deemed your fault.

Through the harrowing struggle, your father’s optimism turned to resentment. He claimed that bringing you to the farm was not like bringing a daughter home, but a corrosive parasite. He believed that you were the reason for the life being sucked away from their perfect farm life. So, he turned to the only thing that he could trust to save the family from your curse: God. Begging and pleading through prayers every morning and night to the sky for a better season.

He studied religion here and there before taking over his brother-in-law's farm but with the farm failing for the first time, he took a change of career paths. He was already well known among the locals, close with the church goers in the community. And somewhere along the way, he managed to start preaching himself. Nearly every christian in your town moved churches to follow where he went. Like sheep to a shepherd.

If only they knew what you did, what he was truly like behind the closed doors of your home. How his devotion was turning to violence. Day by day, becoming uglier.

While your father busied himself with his new found family, often away from home on the farm, the crops and animals began to thrive again. Slowly but surely, growing and regaining health. He would say it’s God’s doing, a small taste of His salvation.

Your early years were mostly troubled by the relationship of your parents. Too young to fully understand their disputes, drawing at the kitchen table with their yelling sounding the house. It was always about you, that much you knew. Because you watch and you listen. Quick to learn that they tried for another child but never had any success. They wanted someone else to be their baby. Something that felt more like a blessing than you. Your father constantly spitting in your mother’s face that you were the rot to the fruit of her womb. And then he would always end up leaving by slamming the door and your mother would always join you at the table with tears and a bottle of wine. You always just watched, listening in silence. Perhaps just born resilient.

Growing up was different for you compared to most of the kids in your town. You never had the opportunity to make many friends being homeschooled. The only time that was spent around others your age was kindergarten. Kindergarten was short lived because of your behavior; the teachers at school were concerned about you. How you were mean, rough, and sinister with your actions towards others. Picking on the kids you were simply interested in because of how different from you they were. Drawing pictures of gutted cattle or dead, half developed baby chicks still in their shell and giving them as gifts to the teachers. Sharing to classmates the cruelty of farm life and why it was pretty with a smile.

Your father loved to find out about this, you could see it in his eyes. The way they were wicked and screamed I told you so to your mother. You didn’t understand why it was bad or caused trouble. You were only having fun for the first time. The way the kids ran away crying or the teachers wore faces of shocked horror, it made your insides light up in joy. A new feeling—a sense of excitement. You didn’t know it was sick. And of course, it was taken from you. You were removed from school and your mother became your teacher. Your classmates became stuffed animals and the real ones in the barns. It was hard for you to find that joy you briefly felt with others.

Sometimes you had a glimpse of it again when your father would punish you. But even that you grew sick of. The mess, the stench of it all. Sticky and red, worse in the heat of summer. He drilled the sick moto for his actions into your head, “I know no punishment, only mercy.”

Father took you both to church more often after that. He had a false image to uphold afterall, one of a happy, God loving family. In his ego he had to prove that his preaching and prayers could fix you, save you. But that was only admitted at home, loud and scary to your mother. Your poor mother, weak and defensive of you, eventually waved her white flag. You wished she kept fighting for you and that she wouldn’t begin to see you the way your father did.

Childhood and adolescence was a string of questions about yourself. Never quite finding out what made you so bad to be seen as devilish when all you thought of yourself was curious. Perhaps just unlucky to be correlated with negative happenings on and off the farm, always gone without a chance of understanding. Despite it all, you knew well enough the way your parents talked and looked at you was without unconditional love.

On your 17th birthday, the family dynamic made the biggest shift to be experienced.

At this age, you had such a strong sense of independence and with the lack of parental guidance and monitoring, you would leave town when you could. Ride your bike down the long road to the bus stop at the center of town and take the bus into the city over. Your mother was generous with allowance and you saved your money well, only spending it on books or trips to the movie theater. A form of escape that allowed you to learn more about the world and all the things your parents tried to keep hidden from you. A way to learn how to be human.

So when your father was tearing your room apart in search of the same gift he re-gifts you every year, he found some things that made his stomach churn. Every year for your birthday he rewrapped the same, first ever, bible he’d given you. Funny enough that he gave you anything at all considering he never even referred to it as your day, only his day of revelation. And to his disgust, on his sacred day, he found books and journals of explicitly detailed copulation and debauchery.

He almost fainted. Stumbling over his own feet, hands shaking as he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the words on the pages. That was the only time you smiled on that day. Just for a second. And then a glimpse of hell broke loose.

In a rage, he destroyed everything. Your mother stood next to you in tears, telling him to stop and stop. Her hands covered her face but she saw everything through her fingers. You only watched in silence, hands balled in fists by your side. A silent hatred and anger coursed in you. He called you names that no man of God should, especially to his own daughter.

“You’re a disgraceful deviant of Satan! I should’ve known. My own day of revelation is a curse!” You watched him rip pages apart, his voice booming through the house. “Years spent praying for you and this is how you turn out?! Succumbing to nothing but a dreaming whore?!”

A part of you liked his mean words. It was so rare for him to use such colorful language.

You knew what would come next. He was going to have you ‘cleansed’. Something he always did when he discovered something new and sacrilegious of you.

But it didn’t come. Because there was no dying, old sheep on the farm at the time. He did make a promise to not forget though. A promise to have you washed in sacrificial, blessed blood on a day you least expected.

Your father left after that, leaving you and your mother behind. He moved to the city to continue his preaching at a larger church. He became known as the closest reverend to God for miles and miles. Lost in his ways, he only made visits when he needed to sort things out for the business of the farm.

You were content with his departure, yet couldn’t quite understand why your mother missed him. As far as you’ve seen, he was never kind towards either of you.

　But now, it’s several years later. And although you’re free of your father’s heavy presence and homilies, he still makes his trips to the farm. You can feel the air change whenever he does, as if you’ve gained a sixth sense for his coming. Naturally intuitive to things having spent your childhood walking on eggshells in your own home.

And today, the air feels particularly chill for summer. The breeze sweeps in through your open window. The forecast called for nothing but sunshine all week, yet there’s an angry, dark cloud hanging over your farm. A foreboding feeling shivers through you, and you know he’s going to fulfill his promise today. You sigh and slide out of bed. “Let’s get this over with.”

You spend the morning doing your usual routine. Brushing teeth, washing your face, then dressing in farm work attire. Your breakfast consists of tea and your mothers homemade strawberry scone. Next is tending to the animals. Your mother usually takes care of the crops and gardening. It’s a quiet and early morning, as most are. The both of you keep to yourselves, just doing what needs to be done day by day.

The sound of a car is heard coming down to the long dirt road and you know who it is by the sound. It’s a fancier vehicle than the one he left this property with years ago. A meaner part of you likes to think his greedy hands got into that mega church’s donations but you’re too self aware of the successful farm your family owns.

Your father parks in front of the house and your mother is quick to rush over to him, presumably with many questions: How have you been? Are you hungry? Thirsty? What brings you here so early in the month?

You roll your eyes at her desperation to cling onto the relationship that clearly ended when you were a child.

You place a hand on your hip, leaning your weight to the side that isn’t carrying the heavy bucket of chicken feed. Walking away from the coops and back towards the shed by the house, you make eye contact with your father despite only taking a glance.

He watches you with narrow eyes from the lowered window of the car he’s still sitting in, very much not listening to a word your mother is saying.

He calls your name before you can open the shed. Spinning on the heels of your boots, you turn around with raised brows of questioning.

He mouths the words sacrificial tree as he exits the car. Your mother sees this. She wears pained disappointment as she scurries away. Presumably to the barn where the sheeps and lambs are kept. She might as well be a sheep too, you think.

The bucket slips from your fingers and drops to the patchy dirt grass by your feet with a thud, spilling over in a mess that will be cleaned later.

You don’t bother giving him a nod of understanding. You just turn around and begin your walk to the tree line where the man made path is. Knowing it would take some time for his preparations, you walk to the lake that’s hidden behind the farmland.

It’s a brief walk through your familiar woods. Once at the short wooden dock, you sit down at the end, taking in the gloomy summer scenery. A light fog hugs over the water. You bring your knees to your chest, in your sitting position, and hug yourself the same way.

This is your favorite place out of all the land your family owns. It’s serene, mostly. Always quiet. You’re the only one who comes here. And it’s nice to swim with when the weather warrants it. There’s a feeling here that’s hard to feel anywhere else you find yourself. Sometimes you imagine what it would be like with someone else, but you doubt it would be as nice. Trouble has a way of following you, it seems. You frown at the thought.

It’s silent like this for a few minutes, just you trying to find a sense of calmness before the impending chastisement. Then you hear some rustling of leaves, heavy footsteps following. You don’t turn around yet, you only wait for the call of your name. Your time of tranquility is too brief. You sigh before giving yourself a squeezing hug.

“It’s time,” the reverend calls out loudly, “quickly now, we have new farmhands arriving soon.” The sound of his feet walking away is when you stand. You wave a goodbye to the foggy lake before parting ways. Your feet move unconsciously, taking to where your body knows to go.

Leaves crinkle underneath your boots and twigs snap. The trees’ branches sway in the gentle morning breezes that pass.

In the mix of the small forest, man made crosses of sticks or plywood are spaciously scattered. Like a graveyard to all your bad doings. Most small but one large. Old rotted wood that stands crooked and begging to fall over right next to the largest, strongest tree. Your eyes, that are trained to ground, move upwards the cross and then to the tree. Your father stands there with a large knife in hand. Your mother waits cautiously not too far away. Her demeanor is frightful as if this is the first time. Coward.

An old sheep hangs by its hind legs from a sturdy tree branch. Unmoving and defenseless. Big beady, dumb eyes look in all directions but you. You think it must feel the same guilt as yourself, sorry that its life purpose is to embarrass you, make you hate what you are.

“God told me to make a sacrifice to prove my faith. He guides my hand in washing your soul clean of sin. So here I am with our blessed, dying lamb.” He’s said this every time. His voice is always miserably rehearsed and preacher-esque.

You thought long ago that this was their, the lambs, only use on the farm. It’s a shame. All that devotion has made him so ugly and violent.

You make small steps closer to the lamb. It’s whining in bleat baas and mehs. Does it know what’s happening? Is it scared? You like the lambs, sheeps. Pure white, soft, and docile. They never fight back. They just take it. I doubt they need restraints. You could hold them above me just the same and they’d never resist.

“Move faster, for the love of God. Yeah, stand right there underneath like you know how to.” He instructs you, annoyed. His patience running thin as the distant sounds of a truck makes way down the dirt road to the farm property.

“Okay…” You don’t fight him, with arms crossed behind your back and a hand squeezing around your own wrist, you move closer. Maybe you’re a lamb too.

Maybe all your father really was is the executioner.

He raises the knife as he begins to speak, it slides over its cotton, white throat but does not cut, “Revelation 7:13-17 Then he told me, ‘These are those who come from the great tribulation, and they’ve washed their robes, scrubbed them clean in the blood of the Lamb. That’s why they’re standing before God’s Throne. They serve him day and night in his Temple. The One on the Throne will pitch his tent there for them: no more hunger, no more thirst, no more scorching heat. The Lamb on the Throne will shepherd them, will lead them to spring waters of Life. And God will wipe every last tear from their eyes.’” He slits its throat in a quick, harsh movement. The blood spills just as fast, squirting spurts of red before it comes pouring down onto you. “Face up,” you obey even though it brings you rage, “it ought to cleanse those unholy thoughts I know that are still in there.”

Head raised to the sky with eyes and mouth squeezed shut, you let it consume you. Warm, thick and wet washes down from your head onto your clothes then down to your feet. The smell of animal, metallic iron covers you. It’s sticking to your hair, eyebrows and lashes. You can already feel your clothes clinging to your skin in the dirtiest ways.

You stand there, drenching in the its blood. Your father speaks again, firm and slow, “Say it with me now, ‘I know no punishment, only mercy.’” All you feel is the animal’s rain of life flooding you.

You open your mouth to speak but are quick to spit and cough out the blood that manages to get into your mouth. Smack.

“I don’t have time for this,” his voice sounds like an echo, your head is ringing from the harsh swing of his hand. The skin of your cheek stings. He hits like a bitch, you think. “Say it with me now, dammit!” You can feel him wipe his bloodied hand on the side of your shirt.

You step back from under the red shower. “I know no punishment, only mercy.” Your words align with his in the perfect paced harmony you’re trained to do so. Enunciated, slow and strong, through gritted teeth.

There’s a beat of silence before the sound of your parents footsteps walking away.

Standing there in red, yet to open your eyes, you breathe out a shaky sigh of defeat. It sounds more like a growl. With the mostly clean hands you kept safely behind you, you bring them up to wipe the blood from your face. You don’t dare to look at the dead animal in front of you. Being covered in it is enough alone to make you feel sick.

You think of going back to the lake, jumping in and letting the blood wash off you there, but knowing you’d either walk back with further drenched clothes or naked didn’t seem like options you wanted to deal with either. So you just head back to the house. It’s a slower walk than need be, but you just felt like avoiding the eyes of the newcomers, hoping they’d be off in the fields or in a barn by the time you walk through. You feel numb.

You’re wrong though, by the time you’re passing the barns and coops, the group of new farmhands are already lined up outside the horses’ stable. Your mother is talking to them, although not all are paying attention. Only a few pairs of wide eyes follow you. Catching the sight of you must really shock them but you can’t blame them. Something about this makes you excited. You stop in your tracks and look around to see if your father’s car is gone. It is. The realization feels like a wave of relief and it suddenly feels brighter outside already.

You take a glance down to your disheveled appearance. Shirt, pants, and boots painted like the barns. You look back to the group, brushing the soiled hair back from your face. Some pieces stay stuck, in the early stages of drying against your skin.

It’s safe to have a little fun.

You begin a slow walk over to the group. You take a headcount and there’s five of them. Two younger men, closer to your age. The other three look a bit older, not by much but definitely older. Your mother is yet to turn around from whatever rundown she’s giving them. Too dense to even recognize that now none of them were paying any attention to her.

You creep up beside her and open with, “Hello,” your voice is louder than even you’ve heard it be in a long time. It’s nice to be heard, noticed. You usually avoided the farmhands, but this summer was going to be different. You decided this on the walk over.

Being cooped up on the farm for so long made you different, it’s obvious to anybody. Not properly socialized in your developmental years caused you to be an anomaly to the ones who did come across you. Enigmatic from far away and up close. Now isn’t the greatest example though, the situation is too clear as to why.

Your mother turns to you, gasping and jumping back slightly in the shock of your gross state and sudden introduction. “My goodness, girl, whatta ya doin’ here like this?” Her voice is hushed, clearly unsettled with the situation.

They all just stare at you, open mouthed and bewildered. You take the time to get a good look at each of them up close. Your eyes follow their faces individually down the line. And then they stop.

At the end of the line is a man more beautiful than the ones you’ve seen in the movies. You feel stuck in time, left with parted lips, staring at the man before you. And far too intently for your character. He stands tall, sharp, pale, and elegant. What is a boy like this doing here? He averts his eyes from you, clearly uncomfortable by what’s before him. He looks uneasy, shifting his weight foot to foot with his hands behind his back. His pretty eyes glance around from you to your mother to the other men and the ground. He simply doesn’t know what to do with himself. You find it dangerously darling of him.

You don’t even realize the small smile that takes your lips. You step closer to him and he steps back, now looking at you with wide eyes of small fear. You extend your hand to him, it’s coated in drying blood. He gulps and the sight, his adam’s apple bobbing in such a biteable neck stirs something in you. This will be far more fun than you intended.

You say your name softly for introduction and step a little closer, “Nice to meet you," you feign cuteness as much as you can, looking up at him through your blood clumped lashes. It’s clear to everyone there is something off; there’s little to no real emotion behind your voice and face.

Your mother eyes you suspiciously as you corner the handsome man, but she says nothing. Sometimes she fears you too.

He looks from your eyes to your hand, having an internal battle with himself on what to do, “Ah, I am Sunghoon... Nice to meet you too.” His politeness must be stronger than his frighteness, because he takes his hand in yours and shakes it gently. His hand is large in yours, nearly covering it entirely. You squeeze it hard, your eyes never leaving his, trapping him in the scene.

He wants to look away, to hide somewhere. The way his skin crawls tells him he’s a prey already in the mouth of a predator. And you know he’s nervous under your intense gaze because your hand feels like a lamb is still bleeding above you. His palms are sweating, and it’s nowhere near hot enough for that yet. Your smile grows to a smirk.

Although you’re wearing the lamb, having Sunghoon’s hand in yours made you feel like a wolf.

　Sunghoon’s first day of his summer job starts off duller than he imagined. The sun isn’t out this morning and it only intensifies his anxiousness, as if the grey skies reflect his inner emotions. He’s already new to the area, away from home and staying in an apartment not far from his college in the city. A private, christian school that he studied hard to get into with his friend. He wishes his best friend and roommate, Jake, was joining him in this job, but Jake already had plans to teach at a summer soccer camp for kids through their school.

He found this opportunity through the college church they attend together. A reverend from another church in the city came to visit one Sunday, handing out flyers to the young men in hopes of finding farm help. The pay is good and the bus fairs to the small town over where the farm’s located is covered. He’s never done work like it before, nevertheless was he going to let a simple offer pass him up.

Things are going smoothly to start, being told how to care for, clean, and feed the animals to crop preservation. Everyone would have their own specific roles on the farm. Sunghoon was assigned the easier of the tasks, either feeding animals or watering and fertilizing the vegetables and fruits crops. He learns there are already regular farm workers that would come throughout the week to collect produce, material, and use the machinery for the more laborious work. And if she wasn't around when needed then they could ask any of the regular employees for assistance or find her at the house.

As the farm owner is about to give details on the horses’ maintenance, a girl saunters in. And the anxious feelings become of Sunghoon all over again. His eyes are wide, taking in her appearance. The smell of the farm dissipates and putrid copper takes over. The worst part is how calm she appears, and the fact that she’s unbothered with all that she wears.

He thinks his brain short circuits, everything seeming muffled and unreal. He doesn’t even realize he introduced himself or touched her. It all was too quick and unfamiliar for him to grasp.

He watches as she walks away, back to the house that sits slightly over the hills and valleys of the property. His expression is blank, blinking slowly at the strange girl then down to his hand that’s stained red too.

“Don’t pay her no mind,” the woman speaks up, she sounds as if she’s warning them. “Just get yer work done and when everyone’s finished y’all can head back home. I won’t ask too much of ya in yer first month here, alright? That might be a different story later.” She tries to end the statements in humor with her forced laugh.

Sunghoon nods but his eyes don’t leave his dirty hand. The other men nod along too and give their ‘yes, ma’ams’ in return.

The woman continues walking them around the farm, listing rules and guidelines they must follow, along with advice and tips for the work they’ll be doing.

The day flows as easy as it can for Sunghoon. He doesn’t talk much with the other farmhands. He also doesn’t know them well enough to be comfortable in their conversations, so he just exists in awkward silence, sometimes reacting. While they can joke around and find fun in the work, his mind keeps wandering off to the girl from earlier, to you. How your empty eyes held onto his and small hand even tighter. He thinks the palm of his hand still burns from the interaction.

Around the afternoon time, Sunghoon and the guys are sitting around a picnic table near the house. The sun is beating down on them all now while they chug down water and eat their lunch. The owner was kind enough to provide their refreshments and meals. They were all thankful.

She adds that there’s a small lodge up the dirt road. It’s a little old but homey and has space with two spare bedrooms if they need to wash up or rest at any time. It was originally built for the farm workers that worked late and needed a place to stay if need be.

Once done, the boys stand up and talk about what they have left to do. The next bus back to the city isn’t running for another two hours so they speak of taking some leisure time and exploring the farm property. Meanwhile Sunghoon is still sitting, watching them huddled in conversation. He wipes some sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand as they begin walking towards the fields.

Sunghoon, taking what the farm owner had mentioned previously, decides that he’d like to stay inside to get away from the beating sun for a while. So he gathers his trash to throw away in the bin by the road near the house’s mailbox and begins his walk to the lodge.

Once inside he takes in the rustic, outdated furniture. It’s a little dusty and the floorboards creak beneath his feet but he finds it somewhat comforting. The living space has two couches by an old stone fireplace, a center table with board games and cards, a kitchenette, and a large dining table with enough space to seat six people.

The decor is very farmers-life-esque. From a cow print rug in the small kitchen area to the antlers mounted on the wall near the dining table. There’s scenic southern paintings hung up along with antique crosses and prints of bible verses, all adoring the faded and peeling floral wallpaper. Above the fireplace hangs a painting depicting Jesus healing a blind man.

He walks down the only short hall in the lodge to find the two spare bedrooms the woman had mentioned along with a bathroom. He takes this time to wash his hands thoroughly and splash some cold water on his face. With his hands resting on the sink, he stares at himself in the mirror. The cold drops of water slip down his face, jaw, and back into the sink.

In his mind he’s questioning whether or not he’s sure of this job. It’s all too different from what he knows and he can’t help but feel out of place here. With a sigh, he drops his head and watches the water slip down the sink.

He jumps slightly at the sudden sound of the front door opening and closing, not expecting the others to join him here quite yet. No noise follows the action for a moment, not even footsteps. Then there’s the sound of a click, like the door is being locked. He straightens his posture and peaks out the bathroom door, listening for their voices or any sound other than silence. It offers nothing to him so he begins to feel tense.

“Hello?” Sunghoon calls out skittishly, but there’s no response. His heart rate picks up a little and he starts to think the boys are trying to pull some sort of childish prank on him. He leaves the room and makes slow steps down the hallway to the main area of the lodging house.

As he rounds the corner he doesn’t find any of the boys there though, he just sees you. His heart jumps at the realization. Sitting on the couch, in overall shorts and nothing else. Bare legs crossed and hands against the couch by your sides as you watch him peer around the corner with apprehension. You’re just sitting there, leaning forward and waiting for him to come find you.

Cowardly, Sunghoon makes a half turn. He presses his back against the wall of the hallway as if he could hide away or disappear into it. He even closes his eyes, thinking of a quick prayer to save him from this circumstance.

“Are you pretending to be shy or are you really this cute?” Your voice is teasing, and he can hear the wicked smile in it without seeing.

Feeling caught, he just sighs and slowly makes his way to the living area. He tries not to look at you, thinking you are too revealing. So he looks everywhere else and then to large windows that give view to the farm; none of the guys are in sight. Most likely somewhere goofing off. All he can see is the fields and farm buildings standing large in the distance.

He doesn’t move and speaks softly, “I should probably go find the others-”

You speak before he can finish his attempt of an excuse, “Come sit with me.” You pat the space on the couch next to yourself. Your voice sounds welcoming but he knows there’s an undertone of mischief.

He makes a quick glance to you and sucks in a breath at the view of your body that’s exposed from your overalls. The glimpse of the curve of your breast disappearing under the denim already makes him feel like he’s seen too much of you. And he has. He’s never seen such bare skin on a girl and he’s never been alone in a room with one either.

“Come sit with me, now.” You’re more stern this time, demanding in a gentle way. Your hand makes small movements, soothing over the material of the couch like you’re warming the space for him.

He visibly swallows as he makes his hesitant steps over to you. His heart is racing and with every beat there is a question of his strength. He sits down on the same sofa but not directly next to you like you want. You smirk nonetheless and turn to face him, sitting with your legs criss-cross now.

With your elbows to your knees you hold your head in your hands, watching the side of his face. You’re again realizing how sculpted his features are. Dark thick hair on his head, eyebrows and lashes too. An array of moles sprinkle his pale face. A sharp nose that sits above pink, full lips. You wonder if he knows of his own beauty. It’s fascinating to see such a person like him in front of you.

He’s sitting with perfect posture, not relaxing into the couch. Alert like a deer that’s waiting for too sudden of movement to pounce away. His eyes just watch the table, reading through the names of the board games that lay there as a way of distracting himself. He’s awkward.

“Uhm… d-does your family own this farm?” he tries for small talk to break the silence. His bottom lip finds itself between his teeth as he makes one quick look over to you. Luckily your overalls sit high up or he’d have a full view of your chest. He can’t help but think of the fact and it makes him shift uncomfortably.

“Do I make you nervous?” you question, seriously so. Brows pulled tight in a furrow with a straight face. You lean in even closer to him, watching for every change on his face.

“Yes,” his response is honestly quick and ends with a tight lip, like he’s holding his breath. He is yet to comprehend what is happening, still in a whirlwind of thoughts of what could—will—happen.

“Why?” Your head tilts slightly to the side, it makes him think of his roommate briefly. And man does he wish he were here to ease the tension.

He doesn’t want to admit that he’s never been in such close proximity with a girl alone before, so he just clears his throat and remains quiet after doing so.

Curiously, you bring a hand up with a pointed finger and brush the tip of it over the mole on the side of his nose. He jolts back at the sudden touch, his cheeks flushing a warm pink. His eyes now watch you with gentle confusion. He touches the same spot you did with a trembling hand.

“You have a constellation on your face. So many moles… Do you have a girlfriend?”

His face burns a little more, both from the observation and the question. He shakes his head, sitting himself further into the couch and further away from you. He can’t quite understand the situation. Are you messing with him? You seem too serious for such. Maybe you’re just weird like he initially thought. Either way he can feel his faith slipping; he is cupping holy water in hands during an earthquake.

“Did I do somethin’ wrong? Am I not pretty?” You pout to be playful with him, acting as if his actions are offending you. He takes it literally though.

“No!” his hands rest on his knees and he holds them hard, trying to find stability despite sitting down. “Y-you are… pretty,” his words grow quieter, like he’s sharing a secret. “I just don’t know you or why you want to talk to me.”

“Hm.” You lean your head back against the couch. With your eyes still on his face, you speak just as quietly, “I’m still trying to figure that out too.” After some beats of muted air you speak up again, but with more presence, “You came to work here. Why?”

“A man was handing out flyer ads at the church. I wanted a summer job.”

Is he always this direct and boring? And church, of fucking course. You roll your eyes, pushing yourself off the back cushion and even closer to the man. Your knees touch the side of his body and his thigh. He looks like he’s trying to control his breathing, to feign lack of disturbance, but his face says everything you need to know.

You place a hand on his thigh and his whole body stiffens at the action. Your smirk to yourself. It’s only resting there on the top of his jeans. “You act like a girl has never touched you before.” You give him a soft squeeze and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Well? Has a girl ever touched you?”

He shakes his head quickly, “No,” he breaks, feeling overwhelmed and wrong, “and I don’t think you should be. It’s against the churches values-”

“At your age you still follow the rules?” Your hand slides lower and back up his thigh, it’s a slow and teasing motion. There’s enjoyment in how scared he’s becoming.

Sunghoon knows that this is only going to lead him down a path he swore to God not to take. And if his parents were to know that in his first year away from home in the summer since college was locked in a lodge with a promiscuous girl he’d have it handed to him. The thought of their wrath makes him shiver all the more.

“I just don’t want to sin.” His eyes close and he bites down onto his lip again. He no longer cares if a stranger sees him as a loser or prude. His virtue is being tested in real time, and he’s feared facing this battle many times in the night because even in his dreams he loses.

“I’m only touching you. How is it a sin?” The tone of your voice changes, it’s soft like the hand that moves closer to in between his thighs. Your fingertips press into his clothed skin here and there, curiously feeling him up. You just try to get a reaction out of him. There’s a warm feeling in your stomach that you don’t recognize; it’s faintly familiar.

“Your hand isn’t supposed to be… there.” He makes a strained sound, something like a low whine, as your hand ghosts over his cock.

You look down to your movements for the first time and realize he’s sporting a half chub. You snicker quietly, cupping him in your palm. “Then why are you getting hard, Sunghoon? Do you like the way I’m touching you? I bet you’ve thought about doing this before too.”

He makes another noise, a whimper. He can’t bring himself to open his eyes and accept what’s happening. He also can’t find it in himself to stop you, or get up and leave. This wasn’t just a struggle with evil’s temptation but his own biological nature. Something yet to be explored, something that’s been scratching at his ribcage for years to be fed.

There’s too much he can’t admit in this moment. Starting with how he enjoys the sound of your voice, the slight accent and dialect difference he picks up. How the way his name leaves your lips makes him want to crumble like a burning church. And how he silently likes the fact he can’t control the way his body is reacting to your hands on him.

It’s all wrong, wrong, wrong. And he is weak.

“Answer me, Sunghoon.” Your hand presses down on him, feeling the growing hardness under your palm. You give him a small squeeze, massaging over the bulge. To your surprise he feels big. Your eyebrows quirk at this and then you look back to his face. A single tear runs down his face and you find satisfaction in it. “Lying is a sin too,” you remind him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hands fist the couch cushions at his sides. He grips the material so tight that his knuckles turn pink through the pale of his skin. His chest rises and falls through slow and deep breaths.

“You shouldn’t feel sorry for something that makes you feel good.” You palm over him a few more times, drawing out little moans and whimpers from him. He’s struggling to sit still. You can even feel him try not to push his hips back up into you; if only he would admit that he wants it. He’s practically pulsing beneath you, like there’s never been such a rush of blood to his cock in his life. You sigh dramatically and pull your hand away from him, sitting back to give him space. “That’s too bad. A good dog will always be loyal, huh?”

His eyes shoot open when he feels your hand is gone. He looks at you desperately with wet eyes, a small pout to his lips. You make him feel sick for wanting to ask why you stopped, or if he did something bad for you to take away his short-lived pleasure.

You smirk at his expression, so pitifully beautiful with want. “Have you ever touched yourself?” you ask, placing your hand over his that hasn’t let go of the couch. It takes you back when he flips his hand around to hold onto yours, clingy and wretched. His thumb brushes over your knuckles. Repulsed, you react quickly and take your hand away from him at his impulsive intimacy. It makes him frown with a meek whimper.

He shakes his head slowly, looking down to his lap. “I can’t.” He knows he’s not allowed to. His father was adamant through his puberty that he mustn’t succumb to his body’s natural taste for sin. He was told that sometimes the devil had a funny way of sneaking into a man��s mind. That Satan would haunt boys in their sleep to wake them up with guilt of uncontrollable lust to be like him.

“But you like when I do it, right?” You rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him. His eyes look from your face to the thin opening of your overalls where your chest can be seen from the angle. He bites down hard and nods slowly. You coo, moving your hand back to his still hard, clothed cock. “I can make it go away if you want. You want that?”

He’s battling all the repressed things he’s been too afraid to explore; fearful of the swing of his parents belt he felt once long ago after being caught in a misunderstanding. In spite of it, he nods again. “It hurts.. Please, help me.” His voice is so quiet. Even he doesn’t want to hear his own pathetic begging.

Your fingers find the zipper of his jeans then you tug it down slowly as you stare at him. “You have to pull them down for me, okay? I can’t help you with just this.”

Sunghoon freezes for a second knowing he has control over being the one to take out his own cock. Yet apprehension leaves in a breath. Then he’s pulling the clothing down to his knees with frantic haste. You didn’t expect him to take everything off so fast but there’s a sense of pride in how eager you’ve made him become in such a short time.

You weren’t sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. His cock is as beautiful as him. Pale and raging pink, crying at the tip much like his eyes. He’s also big, bigger than you knew dicks could be. You thought they’d be ugly, gross and worm-like. But his is clean and pretty. It’s your first time seeing one in person; you wouldn’t let him know that.

You take him bare in your hands, feeling him like a foreign object. More curious of his body than in his pleasure in the moment. His body tenses then relaxes against the couch. A shaky, breathy moan leaves his lips. His eyes flutter at the contact of skin.

You squeeze him, making his moan weakly again. It’s heavy in your hand. Truly just a stick of warm flesh. A part of you wants to squeeze him as hard as you can just to see if it can break, but you withhold on hurting him for now. Not wanting to scare him too much in hopes of exploring him further through the summer.

Your hand wraps around the length as much as it can, pads of fingertips brushing over every vein and curve as you slowly move your hand up and down. When your thumb circles around his tip and flicks the leaking hole, his body lurches forward with a loud cry of a moan from him. You wonder if he’ll cum in the next few seconds of simply touching him.

“I think you’re a slut for a little pleasure, Sunghoon.” You use your palm to gather his precum, circling over the tip to smear the thick cream around. Then you drag it back down himself, wetting his cock in his own prerelease. It slides easier now, your hand. You move faster, jerking him off in lazy, inexperienced motions. Not that he would know anyways. “You gave into lust so easily, didn’t you? Must’ve wanted this for so long. Your body’s nasty, eager for it.”

In his ears, you make the nasty words sound delicious. And he wants to devour more and more, like the starved man he is. His hips snap up into your hard, sudden and rough. You wrap your free arm over his shoulders, a hand sneaking up into his hair to tug aggressively on the thick dark locks. You’re pulling his head back, forcing him to look at you. “Don’t be a whore. I’m helping you. I didn’t say fuck my hand.”

“Ahsh- I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he whines, tears burning his eyes, “it, it f-feels good. I feel so good.” His head falls to lean against yours, face burying into your hair. His head makes little shakes as he begins to cry, telling himself no, no.

“Shut up...” You don’t like how close he is to you. You only like doing so to tease him, but when he does it, it makes you feel a fiery anger in your chest and belly. Uncomfortable. Smothering.

Your hand works in sloppy motions. Pumping his pulsing cock to reach his orgasm. At the tip your wrist makes flicks with your thumb, working him up further and further.

He stutters out incoherent apologies into your hair throughout his sobs of wanton, whimpering moans. Everything about his body is sensitive to the new sensations. He can’t help but move his hips up into your hand, humping the small fist that’s fucking down onto him.

Confused by the warm, tight feeling flexing of his abdomen he whines against you, “I can’t- I can’t take it. My body feels weird now. Mmph, ‘m sorry. I don’t know what’s h-happening.” His body feels volcanic, ready to burst.

You continue your movements, jerking his reflexing length until he’s cumming into your hand. It’s a heavy load of thick, creamy mess. His voice is too close to your ear as he moans a drawn out needy sound. Your face remains plain while you pump him until he’s milked dry. His body flinches and curls into yours through the aftershocks, clearly overstimulated and over-sensitive. His arms snake around your waist to pull you against him.

You stare down at your hand that was earlier covered in the blood of a lamb and now the cum of a virgin. It looks like fucking snot, you realize with repulse. Without thinking you bring your hand up and lick the strange release. Your face scowls at the unknown taste so you just wipe the rest on your overalls. “You are disgusting,” you mutter.

Sunghoon remains silent aside from his sniffles, eyes peeking through his bangs to watch what you’re doing. He still hasn’t stopped clinging to your side, as if you could save him from his first lustful sin.

You push yourself up and off the couch, his body slightly falls to the side where he was leaning on you but he catches himself. He watches you with sad, scared eyes. You stare blankly in return then look out the window to see the group of men walking around the picnic table they ate at earlier.

“Farmhands will be leaving soon. Clean yourself up in the bathroom.” You don’t spare him another look, you just walk to the front door, unlock it, and leave. You ignore the way he looked like a sad abandoned puppy. Something about it angered you in the same way he was being clingy.

You walk back to your house with a slight skip to your steps. As you step through your front door, you’re about to head upstairs to your room but stop in your tracks because your mother speaks.

“Hate him all ya want,” your mothers words slur, she speaks slowly and tired-like, “but he was a good man. He used to love me… And then you came along.” You turn to the living room on your left where your mother lays on the couch, wine glass in hand and eyes heavy lidded. “I know what yer capable of. I’ve seen the things ya do on this farm, in this home.. When ya think no one is watching.. He just might be right about you.” You glare at her now. “There is something evil in ya, child. Leave that boy outta yer wickedness.”

Her wine glass falls to the floor from her fingers and she groans, turning to her side. You stare at her for a moment before walking up to your room.

Meanwhile Sunghoon spends his next 20 minutes in a spiral of guilt and shame. He cleans himself up in the restroom like you told him to. Then waits, watching outside the window for when the boys are gathered around the truck they drove in from the bus stop to leave in. It was hard for him to get the tears to end. He fell right into sin’s lustful trap and it made him feel so- No, it only made him feel hurt. Stupid. Bad.

On his bus ride back into the city he prays. Sitting in back, alone with his indignity, and head bowed low so no one could see his red rimmed, glossy eyes. Time goes by so fast that he nearly misses his stop to get off.

He ignores his roommate when he’s home. Jake, excited and curious of Sunghoon’s first day, is left cold. Sunghoon showers for longer than usual. He scrubs so harshly at his skin he turns red; unable to feel clean no matter how much he washes. He doesn’t eat dinner because he feels he doesn’t deserve to. He gets into bed earlier than most days too. He tries to sleep but the day haunts him, keeping him awake.

He’s up all night in tears, face in his pillow with the blanket thrown over his head, trying to hide from He who watches. The begs of forgiveness seem endless.

“Dear God,” he whimpers, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” He doesn’t sleep much that night because he can’t find it in himself to stop humping into his mattress in hopes to chase and achieve the feeling you gave him earlier. His hips rock his aching hard cock into the bed, anguished yet titillated. “Please, forgive me. Forgive me. I’m so sorry.” He continues to cry, drowning in his pillow, knowing he will do it again.

　The next day on the farm is an early morning for everyone. Sunghoon sits quietly in the truck with the other summer volunteer farmharms. They talk amongst each other about the day’s schedule of duties and tasks. He struggles to keep his eyes open, head leaning against the window despite its bumps from the uneven dirt road. He thought about calling it quits on the whole job after yesterday, but couldn’t bring himself to. It’s for selfish reasons too. The ones that deepen his guilt.

The arrival to the farm is quicker than anticipated. Sunghoon forces himself to be more alert and awake, starting to pick up on the conversations between the others as he exits the parked truck.

“Do you think it’s still hanging there?” One says. “The lamb of slaughter?” Another dumbly asks with a snort. “Well yeah, dipshit. You guys think that girl did it? She was weird as hell.” A third voice chimes in, “Being covered in blood and then leaving a dead animal hanging from a tree is creepy as fuck. The lady was right, stay the hell away from her.” He laughs. The others walk away in continuous chatter, leaving Sunghoon by the truck.

Sunghoon is confused by this conversation and deeply disturbed. He doesn’t follow or press them with questions though. But it will give him much to think about for the day. He’s so exhausted from the lack of sleep, he wonders if he even heard them all correctly at all. Yeah, your whole introduction was strange but killing an animal and acting like nothing happened and then toying with him on the same day? Was all that really something a girl like you would do? He can’t say for sure because he doesn’t know you.

He goes about his morning tasks lazily. His mind is too busy with the thoughts of you. He thinks of when or if he’ll see you today. You haven’t shown around the farm all day. It’s only an hour before noon, he tries to rationalize with himself. He still ponders throughout his work. What time will you come? Will you mysteriously show up like yesterday? Will you touch him again? Will you let him feel good? Is he forgivable or going to burn in hell for wanting more?

He shakes his head to rid it of the thoughts. Perhaps he’s too hopeful. After lunch time he goes back to the farmers lodge to take a nap. At least that’s the realistic excuse he used. He struggles to even fall asleep because he’s so anxious about listening for any sound of you possibly coming back here.

His eyes, sullen and tired, just can’t stay open after half an hour of waiting. So eventually he does fall asleep. You never show up. When he wakes up from his long needed nap he somehow feels worse knowing you didn’t visit than he did committing his first sin.

The following day of work is a repeat. He doesn’t see you at all yet you occupy all of his thoughts. He thinks badly of himself for many reasons.

　On the fourth day, you finally decide it’s time to check up on the poor boy. You watched Sunghoon mope around the farm for two days and it was cute at first but you’re getting bored again. You did like how his eyes were always searching around, hopeful that every sound he heard from behind or around corners was you. Knowing you had such an effect on him made you wonder how much more you could do to him.

From the window of your room, you watch when they all arrive. Your mother greets them like she does in the mornings and gives them all tasks that need to be completed for the day. It’s Thursday which means she’ll be out for a few hours to go into town and sort out business for products: cow and goat milk processing for cheeses and soaps. At least you assume considering you overheard her phone call about such the day prior.

You spend the morning around the house, reading and snacking on fruits, waiting for your mother to leave so you can proceed with your plan. There was some effort into your appearance today. You wear a spaghetti strapped white babydoll dress, lined at the bottom with sewn embroideries. It’s simple and flows nicely above your knees when you walk. You hate it because it alludes to soft purity but at least it feels good to dress light in the summer heat. And it might make you all the more approachable to feeble Sunghoon.

After about an hour, your mother finally leaves. You give it about 10 minutes before you’re shoving on your boots and leaving the house. Some of the blood from earlier in the week still stains the brown leather; you did clean them off but clearly not to the best extent. You’re okay with that though, it seems prettier this way to you.

Looking and walking around the property, you see the scattered farmhands busy with different things. The sun isn’t kind today, it’s piercing in brightness and temperature. The sweat begins to seep from your pores in a matter of minutes, making you feel sticky. You run a hand through your tangled hair, fingers getting caught in unbrushed knots that you yank through anyways. You don’t see Sunghoon anywhere that’s directly under the sun. You continue to search around the farm, gaining a few cautious looks from the other workers. As you walk past their gazes you wear a wry smile with a tilt to your head. They look away quickly after being caught staring.

Some wandering in and out of the different barns and coops are done. He wasn’t in any of them though. You greet the animals you pass by and give pats to some of the cows. “Have you guys seen him nearby? I’m not a fan of hide and seek.” You mumble to one of the goats, scratching lightly beneath its chin while it chews away at grains and hay. It maas in return. You pull your hand back out from the stable then leave to continue the manhunt.

It’s when you’re walking by the horses’ stables that you see they’ve already been cared for, telling you that someone was here already. You glance to the smaller shed nearby, having a suspicious inkling that it's where Sunghoon is. You walk to the shed and see yourself inside. And he is. He has his back turned to you, standing at a work bench table and cleaning something off.

You walk up behind him, the sound of your footsteps being dulled by the scattered hay on the wooden floors; he doesn’t notice that you entered the space, clearly lost in his own thoughts. You tap his shoulder which makes him spin around in surprise, dropping the brushes he was cleaning.

Sunghoon’s eyes are wide at the sight of you standing so close to him. You can tell he’s lost sleep by the dark circles around his eyes and how his complexion is impossibly paler. His mouth is stuttering to find words, opening and closing.

You step closer to him and he steps back, his backside now pressing against the table. It wobbles on the uneven wooden stilts that hold it up. Reflexively, his hands reach back to hold onto the table, but he’s using it for his own stability. You simply stand there in between his legs, staring up at his face and taking in all the details that differ from the last time you saw him. He swallows, quietly watching your face in return.

“I haven’t seen you around.” Sunghoon speaks first, his voice a soft surrender. You feel his breath on your face.

“I know. I saw you though. You missed me.” You state bluntly, taking note of the little fangs he has for teeth. He probably bites good, you think, licking the back of your own teeth.

“If you saw me then why didn’t you…” he trails off into a quiet again, closing his eyes for a moment with a sigh. “I wouldn’t call it that.” His eyes open again as he feels your hands on his chest, sliding up his white tank and underneath the sleeves of his denim jacket to his shoulders. He bites down, suddenly stiff.

Ignoring his response you continue, “How can you wear this when it’s so warm out?” Your hands slide over his shoulders and down his toned arms, the jacket slips down to reveal the toned limbs. Your eyebrows raise at the sight yet your face remains relatively blank. “You’ve got muscle. Good for farm work.” Small hands continue to run over the smooth milk-like skin, learning every curve of his lean built physique. It’s not sexual, just exploratory.

Sunghoon sucks in a breath, watching you inspect him. He begins to feel flustered, relishing in the contact of skin on his. You notice his tense body and ask him if it’s okay, to which replies a raspy stutter, “Y-yeah.” Your hands slide down his arms and back up to his shoulders. Then down his chest and body to stop at the waistline of his jeans. He has a nice body; he must be athletic. You don’t care to ask in what ways. Your fingers dip into his jeans just slightly to pull him in closer to you, he gasps, his growing cock pressing against your stomach.

“Sunghoon,” You ridicule him, tsking under your breath at the pressure you feel of his arousal. “Already?” You look up at him but he can’t meet your eyes, feeling embarrassed. You play with the waistline, your fingertips running back and forth between the denim and his skin. “Is this sinning?” It’s a soft question yet mocking. He only shakes his head, nervously gnawing at his bottom lip. “Do you want to?” He whimpers, slowly nodding his head. You take your hands off him, crossing your arms. “You have to tell me. Look at me and tell me.”

He looks back at you dispirited. He knows that you know what he wants. And here you are making him admit it outloud, both to you and God. “Please.” He begs quietly, hoping it only reaches your ears and not the sky’s. “I want you.”

There’s that feeling again. The lit match that falls from your throat to the gasoline of your stomach that erupts in flames. Fire to your abdomen and loins; it’s an angry feeling, sparked by his honest admit of want, and for you specifically. You watch him with narrowed eyes while mumbling, “you revolt me.”

He doesn’t reply to your venomous insult. It stings to hear the degrading words in both his heart and pants; he thinks himself disgraceful too.

You drop to your knees, hands finding place back on his jeans to undo his zipper. He stares down at you in bated breath, hands still gripping tight on the table behind him. His are pulled down slowly, purposely so. You watch him writher, body and face. “Did you do it again?” you question, looking up at him from below. He would never avow to how the sight of you on your knees alone makes him ache all the more.

He wants to tear his eyes away from you but he can’t. The image of you in your white dress on the ground before him needs to be burned into his memory. He stutters a mumble of words but you don’t catch anything, if he even said a coherent response at all. You ask again, pinching his thigh. He tries to hum over the strained noise in the back of his throat, “Yes.. I mean no! B-but I didn’t touch myself.”

You try not to giggle, biting the inside of your cheek. Knowing he wanted to feel that way again but couldn’t on his own gave you a funny sense of power over him. One of your hands traces the outline of his hard cock through his boxer briefs. “You make a mess?” He shivers at the feeling of your breath on his suffocating length. He breathes out a ‘no’ while you lick a strip over the material. “Why not? I showed you how.”

He moans softly, trying not to let his hips chase after the feeling that he’s been after for days. “You know I can’t,” he exhales. You roll your eyes, mouthing and licking at him languidly. Your hands are still half tugging at the material that keeps him hidden. A faint pool of precum quickly stains his boxers.

“Sunghoon,” you look up at him with your chin resting on the bulge. He swallows hard, acknowledging you with a hum. “You will never be free from it. The sin I let you taste will forever linger on the tip of your tongue, begging and licking to taste more in crave. No holy blessed water can possibly cleanse you even if you drown in it.”

His bottom lip pouts out with a little droning whine. He should defend himself, say that his faith is stronger than he is and that his soul is saveable by mercy. But a part of him also feels that doesn’t want to be. His eyes begin to well with tears.

“Not even a god could make you pure again,” you give him a small smile and pat his naked thigh before pulling down his underwear. His cock now free slaps his stomach to which he breathes out heavily. You grab him with both hands, giving him one last look before taking the leaking head into your mouth. Hands working on him steadily.

“T-that’s dirty!” he leans forward with a low sounding moan, his hands on your head and in your hair. Your eyes go wide at this. “Why would you put that in your mouth?!” he gasps, the warm wetness around his tip making him dizzy. “This is so vulgar, oh God, forgive me.” he cries, not pulling your mouth off of him but holding you there.

You circle your tongue around the tip and over his leaking slit, licking the beads of precum that leak out. It makes your grimace before you lean back, a wet pop as your mouth leaves. “Enough of your penitence, and take your hands off me.” It sounds like a warning to which he complies without question, only a hushed apology. He’s the one who wants to be touched anyways, not you.

You take him into your mouth again, your lips wrap around him in a painful stretch to accommodate his size. He sits heavy on your tongue that lays flat underneath, doing what you can with it. Your hands at the base work around him, jerking and squeezing him like you did before. You weren’t really sure what you were doing, mainly just mocking the actions you read about in books. It seems to be working for Sunghoon regardless because he can barely hold himself together. Whining and whimpering through fat tears, whole body shuddering from the overwhelming wet heat of your mouth.

His jaw goes slack, mouth hung open only to elicit a breathless moan. His head rolls back on his neck and his eyes flutter to a close. The feeling of your mouth wrapping around him is hot heaven. His body trembles with the new, sweeping sensation. Stomach already tight with contracting muscles. He thinks he could pass out.

Watching his face, him, discover and feel pleasurable sin is slightly euphoric to you. You’ve seen it in movies and read of it in books, but it was something you never quite fully explored yourself. There’s been a few instances that you did touch yourself; it always felt empty or like something was always missing. There’s little to no excitement when doing it alone in shameful hiding. Witnessing, causing such debauchery is different somehow. Safer in ways you didn’t dwell in thought on. You do wish he would stop crying about it, you find it pathetic of him in a provoked way.

Involuntarily, he thrusts himself down your throat with a guttural groan. You gag and cough around him, tears sting your eyes that make you squeeze them shut—refusing to let a single one dare to escape. Now it felt like a challenge. One to which you wouldn’t back down in fear of looking weak.

Your hands hold his thighs roughly, bruisingly so if you had the strength. You move his body in a small back and forth motion, encouraging him to continue his movements. You’re looking up at him with glazed over eyes and a slight nod. He chokes a sob at the sight, you on your knees not to pray but to devour him.

“Ah, I- I’m sorry. Your mouth is so wet, so warm.” He starts off with shallow thrusts, dragging his cock along your wet muscle. His hips stutter while his world seems to be crashing down. “This is so dirty. You look so dirty. And—ngh—it’s.. it’s so good. It’s so good,” he babbles, pushing himself as far down into your mouth as he can. His tip kisses the back of your throat making you gag around him. Your nails digging into the flesh of his strong legs. He can’t stop moaning and whimpering, becoming a slave to pleasure.

He watches your face. Hollowed cheeks sucking and swallowing around him, the tightness of your throat around him hugging and contracting through chokes that reverberate your body to his cock. The spit that leaks from your lips and all over him is obscene, such a sinful mess. He so badly wants to grab your head and force himself down further, but his nails dig into the wood of the table instead.

“Hm, I can’t—” he moans your name, thrusting rougher now. His whole body crumbling in on itself, chasing the feeling of release.

Then there’s the sound of footsteps and a few voices that follow. Sunghoon sucks in a deep breath, taking a fist to his mouth to bite down onto. He looks at you in fear because of the proximity of the other farmhands right outside. This only makes you smirk around him, a glint of evil in your eyes. He shakes his head hurriedly, stopping his movements—as if that would make you both disappear.

You push yourself off his cock, licking over your cracked and saliva covered lips. You bring a finger to your lips and shush him. “Be quiet or they’ll find out what a nasty whore you are. Unless you want that.” Your voice is quiet and raspy from the abuse of him fucking himself down your throat. You stare into his eyes intently before taking him back in. He glances from you to the door of the shed, his body shaking.

You slurp and suck him up, purposely loud and sloppy. A hand jerking off the base that doesn’t quite fit in your mouth. He cries quietly with his mouth open, meek and desperate sounds escape that he can’t withhold. “Please…” He’s whimpering, begging for something that he doesn’t know the context of.

“Do you think the extra feed is in this one?” A voice questions, the door being opened just a crack.

Sunghoon quickly tries to bend down for his jeans but you slap his hand away, pushing him back into the table. You grip his thighs and force yourself to take all of him down. You gag around him, eyes never leaving his panicky and fucked out face. His face silently begs for you that enough is enough but you don’t stop, because a part of you knows he doesn’t want you to either.

“It doesn’t hurt to check, does it?” The other replies with a light chuckle. “Could take a break for some shade too while we’re at it.” The door opens slowly with an agonizing creak, sunlight barely pouring.

Each passing second feels like an eternity to him. The door is still only cracked, not enough for them to see inside but it’s cutting it close. His cock twitches at the thought of being caught with his dick down the throat of the farmer’s daughter. A blazing adrenaline rushes through him.

Sunghoon can’t bear it any longer. His hands find purchase on the back of your head, pushing himself completely into your mouth. His hips stutter with a whimper on his lips as the hot cum pours down your throat. “Ah, sh- ngh!” You smack at his legs for him to release the hold, choking for air to breathe. You instinctively swallow around him, consuming his load of sin.

“You dumbass! The horses are already fed, let’s just go for a water break.” The door slams back on itself to a close. Their footsteps can be heard walking away.

Sunghoon breathes heavily, letting go of you. His body instantly relaxing back with his elbows on the table to support him. Meanwhile you fall onto your ass, a hand around your throat while you gasp for air through rough coughs. “What the fuck did I say about putting your hands on me?” You rasp before coughing again. The taste of him sits on the back of your tongue no matter how much you swallow.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “we shouldn’t get caught.” He pulls his pants and boxers back up then extends a hand to you, an offering to help you stand back up.

You scoff, ignoring his hand and stand up on your own. You brush the dirt and stray strands of hay from your knees. “Whatever. We both got what we wanted.” You start to turn for the door to leave the shed with the thought of brushing your teeth in mind.

Sunghoon, confused as to what you could’ve gotten out of helping him, just reaches for your hand. He grabs you and pulls you back to look at him. His eyes are sad, maybe even a little afraid by your haste to leave. “Y-you’re just going to leave me again?” He sounds broken by the fact.

“What?” You can’t help but breathe a laugh, “Did you expect me to do more?” You ask with raised brows.

“No! No, not like that.. But..” He swallows his pride, “I- I don’t know. Just don’t leave yet. Please.”

You blink at him, scanning his features like a robot in calculation. The pleading of his expression and his words aggravate you. A fiery burning to your insides and the skin that he touches, that he reached for. You look down to his tight grip on your hand before yanking it away. You don’t say anything more, and neither does he. He wipes his eyes from whatever salty wetness is still there.

A moment of silence solidifies your decision. You beckon him to follow you out and he does.

For the rest of his work day you remain. You try not to think about why. But subconsciously you know it’s because for the first time someone willingly wants to be by your side. At first you imagine it’s because of what you’ve done for him—gave him what any man desires: pleasure. A man falling into temptation is far too easy.

Though he doesn’t ask for more and he doesn’t bring it up. Almost like it never happened.

It seems like he really just wants to be around you. There’s little said between each other. It’s just idle farm work with company. And it’s more peaceful than you expected it to be. He didn’t touch you, question you, or do much at all to bother you in general.

Sometimes he stares at you, but you do the same to him. He even gives a sheepish smile when he catches you; it doesn’t get returned. That doesn’t bother him though. He thinks you look beautiful on the farm in your dress with dirt covered hands and hair messy from the wind. He hopes to tell you that one day but for now he stays shy, still weary and afraid.

The sun shines relentlessly unless a cloud mercifully passes by. The breeze is rare yet kind. The animals make their sounds to sing a collective song. The trees and crops sway like waving hands of hellos and goodbyes, depending on where you’re headed to or from. It’s not so bad.

　Two weeks go by. Time flies by for both you and Sunghoon. He comes to work during the week, and he spends his weekends missing you. He doesn’t know what you two are to each other, and he’s too scared to ask. There’s definitely been changes to the dynamic, however. Subtly so. You still don’t smile, or let him touch you. You roll your eyes and insult him if he’s too emotional. But you’re there.

Certainly not everyday, but most, you spend his work days with him. It’s easier to be around one another. There can be small talk, usually about the farm or the weather. Still much to be learned about on a personal level, but he’s fine with the pace of the relationship (outside of the unholy acts that are committed). Sometimes you even end up helping him. Or at least he thinks of it that way. In reality you don’t like how he does things and take over to do it yourself.

You still tease him in your cruel ways. Always ending with him in a mess because he’s easily worked up by your handsy curiosity. He caves into you every time because he can’t fight the divinity that you show him.

There are other times where you confuse him. You suggest a water break knowing he’d gone hours without hydration under the summer heat. You insist on having him take a break under a roof away from the sun when his skin gets too sweaty or red. Which is followed by a reminder that sunscreen is important if he wishes to keep his milky complexion. It’s critical statements that you provide him, but he can’t help to think it’s a weird way of showing you care.

Sure, it could be seen as you selfishly saying these things because it’s what you want for yourself, but in the back of his mind he’s very aware of how you watch and cater to him. It makes his heart jump every time and butterflies swarm his stomach. He can’t help it. The little things, the small acts of kindness—that you might not even intend—make him delusionally overthink.

On the third weekend since starting his summer job, Jake can’t help all the questions he’s been building up and dying to ask. Jake doesn’t understand what Sunghoon has been going through, especially when his moods change so drastically. At first, Sunghoon was self isolating and pouty, clearly in his own head and sulking. But then he would come home from work beaming with an afterglow to his aura. And then on the weekends he was back to his reclusive, depressed state.

Sick of being left out of Sunghoon’s inner turmoil, Jake finally pesters his friend.

“When are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Jake stands in the doorway of Sunghoon’s room, staring at his friend who’s laying face down in his bed.

“I don’t know…” Sunghoon’s words are muffled in his pillow.

Jake walks in with a sigh and sits at the end of the bed. He playfully slaps Sunghoon’s leg. “Dude, just tell me. You’re obviously going through something. You know I can keep a secret. I won’t judge.”

Sunghoon rolls over on his back, his hands clasped together over his stomach as he stares up to the ceiling. He confides in Jake, telling his story from the beginning of when he first met you. He stutters over his words when he admits to the sinful acts he partook in with you. He tells Jake of his guilty conscience and how he enjoyed indulging in the feelings. Then he tells Jake about how he simply likes your company even without the sexual circumstances involved. How he’s mystified by your complex personality and only wishes to know you more. However, he does leave out the viciousness of your nature, since a part of him doesn’t quite believe in it.

“It seems like you’re starting to develop a crush.” Jake laughs lightly, “And if it’s about religion, don’t overthink it too much. Nobody dies completely pure.” He reassures him. “You should show her more of you. That you like her too.”

Sunghoon groans and covers his face at the terrifying suggestion. If only you were that easy to approach in such a vulnerable way. “I guess… I’ll consider it.”

The next day is Sunday. Jake and Sunghoon attend church as normal. Sunghoon participates less in his prayers and songs than usual. His mind is too preoccupied with all he has going on in life. He feels guilt and frustration.

Sunghoon, lost in his own world, fails to realize that his best friend—Jake—battles something similar internally.

You’re never as alone as you think you are if you take a better look around. Everyone is riddled with their own self disgust, guilt, or shame. How else would the churches be so full?

　Entering the fourth week of summer should feel easier than it does for Sunghoon. The work seems to be picking up regarding responsibilities. The weather is only becoming less forgivable. The peak is yet to hit, but that only means the seasonal storms are right around the corner. More care is needed in the fields and barns in terms of protection in case of unpredictable weather.

Aside from the work, Sunghoon is anxious because of you. He hasn’t seen you yet today and he feels nervous about it. Perhaps he has grown too clingy, finding close comfort in knowing you’re there with him on the farm. There’s a sense of safety when you’re in the line of sight; you make things easier for him and he enjoys the presence.

While he’s watering plants and checking the sprinklings through the fields, an older man approaches him. It’s a familiar face that he’s seen around a few times over the past month. The man waves with a smile and Sunghoon does the same.

“It’s amazing what you’ve done, boy.” The man begins, Sunghoon questions where he’s going with the start because he’s just an extra hand of help and doesn’t feel he’s accomplished or improved the farm in drastic ways. “I’ve worked here, hm, well I’ll be damned! Nearly 15 years! And I’ve never once seen that farm girl talk to anyone. Much less spend time.” the man chuckles.

“Oh!” Sunghoon blushes and hopes it’s only mistaken as feverish from the summer. He smiles small and stares down to the bundle of plants he brought with him to the farm today. He feels special knowing this much of you. “She’s something…”

“Sometimes I’d see her talk to herself and the animals.” The man pulls out a cigarette and lighter to smoke. “She’d walk around aimlessly like a ghost. Used to scare the hell outta me.” As he laughs, smoke escapes his lungs. He wheezes a little before continuing, “But now she follows and watches you like she’s worshipin’. If only she did the same with her daddy. Although with a face like yours, I can’t blame the girl.”

“Pardon? What do you mean by that?” Sunghoon, bemused, watches the man smoke and laugh between weak coughs. “She has a dad?” His last question is overroad by the man who speaks over him.

“You keep up your work, kid. I outta get back to mines too.” And then he’s walking away with a low chuckle, shaking his head to himself.

Sunghoon’s aware of your mother. He always thought it was just the two of you running things. He’s never once seen a man, your father, leave the house or so much so be around it. This gives him more to think about, especially on the fact that he still doesn't know much about you at all. You’re still an enigma to him, but he wants everything.

By the afternoon when all the guys are finishing up their break, you finally come out of the house. With the sound of the front door opening, Sunghoon is quick to straighten his posture and find your eyes. You’re already looking at him, watching him and his surroundings with no expression. His cheeks burn and he can’t help the smile forming on his lips.

Two and a half days without seeing you feels like so much longer.

He stands up from the picnic table, grabbing his newspaper wrapped bundle of greenery and shyly hiding it behind his back. He walks over to you, tripping over his feet as he approaches the porch steps to the house. You stand there in front of the door but at the top of the few stairs, arms crossed and amused.

He’s diffident, arms behind him and modestly attempting to hide how nervous he feels on the inside. His stomach is doing flips, his heart racing. On top of already sweating. He feels like he could throw up his lunch right in front of your feet. He swallows thickly before slowly bringing his hands out in front of himself.

“I,” he clears his throat, “ehem, I got these for you.” With outstretched arms, the bundle of flowers shake in his trembling hands. He suddenly feels he’s too nervous to even meet your eyes, so he watches the chipped paint wood of the front porch steps.

You just stand there, watching him with wide eyes and your heart in your throat. Your mouth is lost for words, glancing around at the few farmhands who haven’t left yet and are staring at Sunghoon’s exchange in a similar bewilderment. Some are trying to keep themselves from bursting out into laughter.

“Are you some kind of stupid?” You whisper harshly for only him to hear, snatching the flowers out of his hands. “Why the hell would you do this?” Your words like your tone are mean, but in your chest there’s a raging pounding. It’s a seething raw emotion that doesn’t know how to be dealt with. You’ve only just stepped out of the house and your body feels like it’s inside a furnace.

Sunghoon’s head shoots back up to look at you, his face and heart drop. “I-I’ve never had a girlfriend before so I wasn’t sure what to do.. This is what boyfriends do, right?” He takes a hand to scratch at the back of his head. Inner turmoil takes over and he thinks he’s fucked up. He bites at his lip, doing his best not to instantly cry in regret.

You notice this and sigh, irritated. You look from the neatly wrapped white roses and tulips and back to Sunghoon. “So you are stupid,” you mumble before taking your own bottom lip between your teeth. A part of you wants to sneer, but you spin on your heels to hide the warmth that floods your face in substitution. “I’m throwing them away,” you announce, opening the door and walking back inside your house.

Sunghoon, broken, just drops his head and turns back. A few of the farmhands are snickering from not too far away, chattering among each other and eyeing Sunghoon. He wishes God would smite him on the spot from the humiliation.

Wanting to avoid everything for a little while, he thinks of heading to the lodge to lay down in hiding. But before he can walk away, the front door of your house swings open once more. He glances back at you, meeting your eyes like he always seems to do.

“Done for the day already?” You call over to him, now leaning over the banister of the porch with crossed arms.

Sunghoon, unable to refute you, offers a weak smile and shakes his head. “No.”

He walks back over to you and you meet him halfway. You don’t say anything else. You don’t bring up the fact that he had bought you flowers or confused the odd relationship you share for dating. It’s cute in all its blind innocence, but that just goes to show you that you have more work to do with him.

You don’t think of messing with him today. He’s distinctly grown too clingy with how much time you’ve spent with him. Yet you can’t ignore him either. The two of you carry out the rest of the day’s farm work in silence. The inner fury you feel with him doesn’t seem to go away, despite how he hasn’t said much or even brushed skin with you.

You don’t know how you’re remaining pacific by his side. The rampaging of your heart strings tug like a screaming instrument just from being next to him. How he can keep walking tall, stare at you when he thinks you aren’t looking, or even smile at you is beyond what you know is capable of humans. Men like him only existed in books and movies. You wonder if he’s perhaps playing a game like you.

By the time he’s in the truck to go back to town to catch a bus into the city, you’re sitting at the lake dock. Criss crossed legs, a bouncing knee, and fingernails being ripped at by your teeth. You stare blankly at the water, hoping for that sense of serenity to encapsulate you. It never seems to come. It just feels cold.

So you decide on punishing him for making you feel this way.

You don’t leave your house for the next three days. You don’t make yourself known, heard or seen. However, you’re peeking out every window of your house to get any chance of a view of him. You hate yourself for being so curious of him in the first place. What was supposed to be good fun has only left you feeling angry. Taking his innocence was never going to heal you, or even make him like yourself. In fact, it’s making you sicker.

And on the night of the fourth Thursday, you’re laying in bed staring at your ceiling. A stuffed animal is hugged tightly to your chest. You can’t sleep and you can’t stop thinking about someone for the first time in your life. No amount of tossing and turning, counting sheep, or button presses to your distorted singing, stuffed bear made it easier.

Somehow, you ended up punishing yourself. You always had a knack for that, historically, but this time felt different. It actually kind of hurt. Being alone came naturally to you, but tonight it hits you just how lonely you’ve always been.

　Friday, the farmhands are huddled on the front porch of your house. All the animals are safely away in their designated homes thanks to their help. It started to storm in a heavy downpour only minutes ago. What started out as a dark gray gloom and windy rain quickly turned into an early flooded property, illuminated by strikes of flashing lightning and roaring thunder.

You stand dry under the protection of the porch roof by the front door. Watching and listening to your mother suggest the shaking cold, soaked men take shelter in the lodge until the sky lets up so they can head home.

Sunghoon hasn’t spared a look to you all day, but you know that he feels his eyes on you. It’s in the way he shifts awkwardly amongst the men that ignore him. How his eyes are trained low and unfocused yet always trying to move in your direction. His wet hair falls over his face, concealing his emotions you wish to dissect. He comes off as stoic but you know he wears his heart on his sleeve; how his body language speaks volumes.

Your mother pushes past you to get back inside, saying she’ll check the basement for a spare heater that the boys could use at the lodge. There’s something in you that makes you move without thinking. Suddenly a hand is tugging at the bottom of Sunghoon’s damp jacket for his attention. The material is too thin for this weather and the thought of him becoming sick crosses your mind.

“It’s warmer here,” your words, for once, came out soft. Too much so, being lost in the cracking sound of thunder. He looks at you through his bangs. The wave of alleviation from whatever he was dealing with is palpable. His eyes and body almost look relaxed. You tug him towards you once more, insinuating that he follows you.

He does. Like whatever subconscious emotion made you approach him also made him follow you in. As he steps in, he notices the indistinguishable vibes of the farmer’s lodge. It’s updated and cleaner, but similar in aesthetics. A shotgun sits leaning up against the wall by the front door. His brows furrow and eyes narrow. “Those aren’t safe to have lying around…” he mumbles.

You tug him towards the staircase to walk up, “It’s protection. Only my mother and I are here,” is mumbled back as you lead him up the wooden, creaking stairs. Your feet move light and quick, like a mouse in a home not theirs. If your mother saw you, there would be unnecessary consequences. And the possibility of your father’s involvement would only worsen such.

Sunghoon cautiously steps into your bedroom, his body tenses at the sound of you shutting and locking the door. He feels on edge, wrapping his arms around his shivering body and soaked clothes. You move around him to sit on your bed, telling him to remove his sopping attire. He does so with shaking hands, leaving him in nothing but his underwear. He shyly looks around the room while using his hands to cover his manhoon.

His eyes scan over you, sitting quietly on your bed with a look of contemplation that stares past him. A wooden cross hangs on the wall above your bed, the dark wood matches the decadent bed frame. The nightstand nearby has a pile of books and journals with a low light lamp and unlit candle.

The large window has sheer white curtains drawn open and a vase on the windowsill. A glass vase filled with the flowers he gave you earlier in the week. His heart aches at the sight of the still healthy white roses and tulips, and a smile graces his lips. You liar! You kept them! Is what runs through his thoughts.

Without Sunghoon realizing, you got up to grab a towel and drape over the back of his shoulders. He’s taken aback by your ghost-like actions, but offers you a small smile of appreciation. “Thanks…”

You nod for response and glance from him to the vase of flowers he was lost in thought over. You didn’t have it in to explain yourself, mostly because you didn’t understand why you had done so either.

He dries himself off and finds a place to sit at the end of your bed. You’re on the other end with your back pressed to the headboard, watching him, counting every mole you can find on his pale canvas. The stuffed animal you sleep with is being mindlessly fumbled around in your hands.

Sunghoon turns to face you directly, he reaches a hand out, eyes shifting from your face and the winged bear. You shoot him a mean look at first, only holding it closer to yourself before your face softens to slowly extend it out to him.

He takes it with careful hands and looks down to inspect the old toy. Its cream colored fur is dirtied and matted with age. The holographic satin wings on the back have loose stitching and its halo is crooked. Across the chest of the bear reads ‘Jesus Loves Me’ but it’s obvious the sewn name Jesus has been ripped away at. One paw has a red heart embroidered saying ‘press me’. His thumb brushes over the button heart before pressing down. The bear sings in a distorted happy voice the lullaby of Jesus loves me.

“His name is Saint Michael,” you say quietly and he almost doesn’t catch it. Sunghoon can only breathe a laugh because he finds the dichotomy cute. You almost laugh too, but bite your tongue and look back to your empty hands. You don’t know it but he can see you try to fight your little smile. To him, this moment means more than anything; he’s starting to see you’re more tender than you realize. It brings him a sense of surety in knowing that he can break you like you to do him.

Silly as it may seem for a troubled girl, the bear was the only comfort you had throughout childhood. There was no kindness from your father, no solace from your mother, no guide in knowing life or love. But there was Saint Michael, the stuffed angel bear; he may not have defended you in battle but he hugged you back, and that was enough to cherish him like a deity.

Sunghoon crawls across the bed and sits himself next to you, too close for your liking, but you don’t push him away. He hands the stuffie back to you and you place it on the nightstand to face away from you. You lower yourself in the bed, shuffling under the covers of the blanket and he does the same. His skin naked bare yearns for more warmth, yours specifically.

You feel him turn on his side next to you, pressing up against you despite there being enough space on the bed. His movements are awkward and nervous like he is. You feel a certain pressure against your thigh that isn’t his bones or limbs. You spare him a glance, he doesn’t know if it’s a warning or dare.

“...Have I ruined you?” You wonder aloud, looking back to the ceiling.

“No,” he answers quickly, shaking his head against your shoulder. The way he’s missed you in his desire to touch you, hands tingling with want to snake around your waist and pull you in tight. “I think I just want you all the time now. I can’t help it, m’sorry.” He sounds ashamed in his soft mumbles.

“I’ll only keep stripping all that purity from you. Once it’s mine it’ll remain mine, you know that right?” You look back at him before brushing some of his drying hair from his eyes. He tries to lean up into the touch but your hand is taken back. “And I will pretend it’s healing all that’s missing from me. Do you really want to be mine, Sunghoon?” Your words are so gentle yet laced with threat.

“Yes,” he exhales, “I want to be yours. Let me be yours please.” It’s hushed, a secret prayer with hope. His hips push further into the skin of your leg, where the hip meets the thigh. He wouldn’t mind going to Hell if it meant more time with you.

“You beg like a needy barn animal in heat.” You use a hand to cup his face, he sighs into the hold as he eyes flutter to a close. You push your leg in between his, terribly close to his exposed and vibrating body. “So hump me like one.”

“W-what?” he stutters out before licking over his lips, his thighs squeezing around the plush of yours now trapped in his. His eyes already wet with desperate want, staring back at yours.

“Do it. Like it’s mating season and you want to claim me before anyone else.”

A cracked voice whine falls from his lips and he begins to roll his growing bulge against you. You watch as he sucks in breaths between quiet breathy moans. His pink, plump lips pursing and falling open. His eyes try to stay on your face, how close you are to him, but they fall shut sometimes in his basking of rapture. It’s a slutty sight of a faith-sickened boy.

He loves the little to no proximity that there is. His hands find place on your waist, and he’s aware of how that makes you feel, but he can’t stop it. He wants more and more of you. His hands slide up under your shirt, the feeling on your bare skin in his hands makes his body shudder. Untouched, warm flesh for his large hands to explore and learn every curve of.

Even you stiffen at his exploration, holding in your breath as if you’ve forgotten how to breathe. Your shirt lifts up more with his hands and the exposure is daunting like you’re revealing your insides.

The pit of your stomach lights up and you're frozen under his clutch. The pads of his fingers hold you so tight as if he’s scared you’ll disappear. His cock is raging and you can feel every pulse of blood that his heart beat floods to. He’s humping into you desperately, chasing the euphoria that he could never find on his own. Such a delicate, shy boy now driven by lust and longing.

“You’re pathetic and disgusting. You’re practically fucking me through our clothes,” you murmur while you try to push his hands down off you, but his grip won’t let up. Instead his nails dig further into you, a barely sounding broken noise escapes you from the pain. This makes his body collapse further into you, his head dropping between your shoulder and neck. His movements are sloppy and rushed.

“N-no, I’m still good. You make me feel good, I am so good,” he whines, tears beginning to fall from his eyes to your shoulder. You try to imagine his holy water is washing you clean but it only singes.

“Tell me that only I make you feel good, that you’re only good for me.”

“Only you—can only be you to make me good,” he cries against your warmth, rocking himself into you roughly. His leaking cock begins to twitch against you and his hips won’t quit their stuttered jerks.

You hum lightly and run a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He looks up at you with those desperate, wet, dark eyes and you can’t help but acknowledge how pretty he is like this. His puffy cheeks are flushed pink as the tip of his nose. “Only for me,” you mumble.

“Yes, thank you, I am yours. Yes.” His breaths are jagged and heavy. There’s a coiling in his abdomen that feels borderline explosive. You were right, he craves this feeling. It’s surreal to him how he’s gone so long without it. His arms wrap around you completely now, holding you down while his body rolls on top of yours, situated between your legs. His heart hammers against your chest; he wants to mold into you, to become a singular rot.

You squeak a gasp, being caged down by him. Your heart beats with the same veracity. One of your arms wraps around his waist to hold his back while the other holds the back of his head that hasn’t left the safety of your neck. He continuously sobs through meek moans. His hair tickles your skin like sparks while his lips brush over your jaw and neck making the tingle feel like crackling flames.

Under his weight you feel yourself slipping in both confidence and dominance, your body wanting to sink down in submission from the unknown comfort of his control. Your heart aches and you feel something you’ve never felt before. You think you’re scared of it, yet your body pulls him closer. Hand in his hair, tugging with fearful aggression. Nails piercing the skin of his shoulder blade. You’re pliant under his heavy thrusts and sounds of sin.

The rain pours harder outside with whips of harsh winds smacking the window. It’s almost like God’s wrath is screaming to be seen, to shout that He is watching.

Sunghoon’s hard cock is relentless against your core. The rough grind of him is stimulating in ways you’ve never felt before, your body sensitive and starving for more. You squeeze your eyes shut and moan within your closed mouth, hating yourself for feeling this way because it was never supposed to be about you. You are betraying yourself more than your fathers.

The sounds you try to withhold make Sunghoon weaker. He feels uncontrollable, only becoming needier and hungrier with his movements, “I can’t stop. I can’t stop.” He whines, begging for you to vocalize how you feel it too.

You feel like you’re breaking underneath him, and it feels shameful. Like every harsh word your father ever spat at you was true now that you’re a part of the experience and not just the cause. Everything is too much. It takes every ounce of strength you have to turn both of your bodies over. Now sitting up on top of his lap, you can finally breathe again, sighing in relief. He whimpers at the distance between you both but also from the view of you.

He moans your name softly as he grips your hips, pushing himself up into your clothed pussy like he’s fucking you. Your hands push down on his shoulders. You stare into his eyes with a plain expression and contrasting sharp eyes, grinding your hips back down on top of him. It’s hard to ignore the way it makes you feel, watching him fall apart beneath you as his pulsing cock fucks against you, but you manage.

“Cum for me,” you demand quietly, “make a mess and imagine it’s inside me.”

“Holy fu—ngh,” his entire body spasms and shudders with a low groan falling from his open lips. His movements slow down only to become lazier and uncoordinated. You can feel the warm wetness he spills soak through your thin pajama shorts and underwear.

“You’re right. You are good for me,” you coo softly, cupping his face and using your thumbs to wipe away the tears. Your hips circle and swivel slowly on him until his quivering cock finishes cumming.

Sunghoon has a sparkle to his wet eyes. The way the gentle praise left your lips makes him melt, and he can’t stop the flickering glance between your eyes and lips. He breathes heavily through his post clarity. Still he basks in your touch with a hopeful look in his eyes. His tongue slides over his lips before he’s leaning up towards your face, hands affixed to your waist to pull you closer to him.

This makes a wave of panic wash over you, knowing what he wants to do. You shake your head no and pull yourself away, slipping off of his lap only to turn away from him.

“None of that. It’s not what-”

And then there’s a press of lips to your cheek. Your face burns as if a hot coal was what kissed your face. Your eyes go wide, turning to see the boy sitting up next to you. He only wears a shy smile as he sees your reaction.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a week now,” he admits with a small laugh. “Not exactly there but that’s fine. I wish you would let me help you feel good too.” he whispers, looking back to the windowsill where the gifted flowers stood in their vase with the raging storm as their backdrop.

“That’s dumb and I don’t need to,” you reply, still watching him stare forward. Your chest feels painful; it’s an ache like shattered glass trying to piece together in the wrong ways. Stabbing but trying.

“I think you deserve to,” he argues. “But I understand if it’s not what you want. I was really touchy and I shouldn’t have been because you don’t seem like it. I was too caught up in the moment.” His mind goes to the mess he’s still sitting in and he feels self-conscious all over again. “Is it embarrassing how much I need you?”

You blink at him, swallowing the words that were never going to come out because you didn’t even know what they should or would be. So you settle with a simple, “No.”

You think it would kill you to admit how much you actually always wished to be wanted, needed, or loved. A bigger part of you didn’t think you were worthy of it, let alone capable. The world had such a way of saying otherwise. Until it brought Sunghoon to you; the boy who showed you feelings and experiences you never thought possible.

As if he could read your mind, he asks, “Why did you choose me out of everyone?” He falls back onto the bed, laying down and pulling the blanket over himself.

“I think you reminded me of a lamb.”

“Pardon?” His brows furrow.

You lay back down next to him, facing him like he is to you. “Pretty, white, and docile. You were so nervous when I first saw you—sometimes you still are.” You even laugh a little. “When you shook my hand I knew I could do anything to you because you’d let me.”

“You think I’m pretty?” He smiles wide, scooting closer to you.

You scoff with an eye roll, leaning further away from him. “Oh shut up, you’ve seen a mirror.”

And then it’s his turn to laugh a little. He looks at you like you’re the reason the sun rises and falls. It kind of hurts you to see him like this because it reminds you of your initial rotten intentions and how they’re dissipating the more you’re with him.

Time passes faster than the two of you realize. There’s light banter and easy conversations. You learn more about Sunghoon. Where he goes to school, what he studies, and who his friends are. He tells you of the sports he used to do and what he does in free time with his best friend. The more you learn about him, the more you understand his naivety and how despite what you’ve done, he won’t change. There’s something lovely about it.

You don’t have much to share about your life the way he does, at least not in the same light. But you show him your favorite books, drawings you made over the years, and share the stories of movies you found interesting. He savors the moment of you simply confiding, enjoying the more he can know about you.

The storm passes later in the evening. So caught up in borrowing time, the rain has slowed down to a simple pitter patter. The clouds dispersed and the setting sun only came through to say goodbye to the day.

The sound of the truck that the farmhands use to take back to town is heard roaring to life, signalling you and Sunghoon that it’s safe and time to head out.

Sunghoon jumps out of bed but by the time he’s shoving himself into his still damp jeans and looking out the window, the truck is already speeding down the dirt, now mud riddled road.

“They just left without me,” he breathes out. “I’m used to them leaving me out, but t-this is.. How am I going to get home?” He looks back to you with sad eyes, not the light they had earlier. He’s not shocked by their actions, but he is disappointed. A hand runs through his hair in his stress.

“Should I kill them?” Your question is brazen, body and voice eerily still in your seriousness.

“W-what?!” he whispers in shock, freezing for a moment.

“I’m joking.” You sit up and watch Sunghoon resume getting dressed. “I think you should head back to the lodge for the night. There’s a washer and dryer for your clothes. And spare food for dinner too.”

Sunghoon nods slightly, “your jokes are weird, but okay.” He looks like he’s thinking of something, taking his bottom lip between his teeth in thought before speaking again. “Can you stay with me for the night at least?” he asks shyly.

“No,” comes out quicker than you intended. “...But I guess I can walk with you there.”

He nods again but now with his signature small dimpled smile. You almost forgot about being angry at the other farmhands for taking it away.

You have to make sure the coast is clear before leaving the house. You tiptoe down the halls and stairs, weary of where your mother is inside the house. To your luck, she’s in her usual state. She’s passed out on the couch with two empty bottles of wine on the floor. The television volume is low, playing a rerun of the reverend’s sermon; the devil himself of your childhood, preaching about how he lost his child to the otherside.

With a finger to your lips, you silently signal for Sunghoon to be quiet and to follow you out.

Once safely out of the front door, you take his hand in yours and start running for the lodge. The tall boy is behind you, so you don’t get to see the bright smile on his lips or in his eyes as you run through the light run towards the lodge.

Now standing in the front doorway of the farmer’s lodge, wet from the sky all over again and still hand in hand, Sunghoon bravely speaks up.

“I don’t like it when you disappear on me,” he breathes out shakily, honestly. “Nobody else sees me like you do,” he squeezes your hand tighter in his, feeling you begin to pull away. “Come with me into the city tomorrow. We can- I’m not sure yet, but I’m sure I want more time with you.”

His eye contact is unwavering, begging. Both of his strong hands hold onto yours. You glance from your hand then back to his pleading expression. He will always remain so sweet, no matter what you do to him.

“I felt less lonely before I met you,” you confess, eyes unblinking as you stare up at him for a long pause. “I’ll meet you here in the morning.”

In only seconds, he’s pulling you into a hug. His arms wrap around you so tightly as he holds you to his chest. You go stiff in his arms, forgetting how to breathe for a moment. What feels suffocating at first turns into a warmth you’ve become all too familiar with, and it was never anger. The indignation you always wear is just a hand me down from your parents; it doesn’t fit you right even though it’s comfortable.

With a shaky exhale, you wrap your arms around him too. The hug surrounds you like a blanket of unknown comfort. Your ear pressed to his chest listens to the sound of his racing heart. You can feel the pound throughout his entire body too. Every emotion held within is trying and fighting to be seen. It’s still so cold from the rain but he feels contrast, only warm. His lips press a kiss to the top of your head, making your body burn even more and your hold all the tighter.

　True to your word, you meet Sunghoon at the farmer’s lodge the next morning. He seems happier than usual. Very giddy to be spending a weekend day with you without work in the way. No distractions or excuses to leave. Just the two of you and a new day with zero obligations.

Because you had a spare bike, you both are able to peddle towards town to the bus stop together. Having made these frequent trips alone, you’re familiar with the owner of the gas station at the stop. He’s a deaf older man, and it surprises Sunghoon that you know how to sign and ask him to hold onto the bikes until you’re back. You tell Sunghoon that you learned some basics from reading a book you bought a long time ago.

Stunned, Sunghoon realizes that you went out of your way to do so for one man who watches your bike while you endure solo trips. You, the odd girl who was mean and sinful, used your money and learned a language for one man who did a simple favor. He’s learning more to admire you for by the day, and it’s crazy to him how you don’t see your own charm.

Sunghoon pays your bus fares even though you insisted on being capable of doing so yourself. Sat in the middle of the bus that’s only barely half filled, he asks if there’s anything you’d like to do for the day while in the city. Nobody has ever asked you such an effortless thing, and you like it more than you imagined. Just uncomplicated curiosity of your wishes.

“The book store. The small yellow one on main street. Maybe see a movie if anything is worth seeing.” You shrug, spewing out the usual things you do. Looking around the taken bus seats, you notice some familiar faces.

“That sounds nice,” he smiles, “our first real date! I think there’s a cafe near that book store too. Do you like coffee?”

Your cheeks burn as you stare at him in bewilderment, “you think we’re going on a date?!”

“Of course we are,” he laughs like it’s obvious and wraps an arm around your shoulder, looking out of the window. All that the town can offer him other than you passes by. “I’m a fan of americanos. You seem like you’d take your coffee black.”

“I don’t even like coffee,” you mumble, turning your attention out of the window as well. “Tea is nice though.” You add in, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hm. I can see that too,” he hums as he pulls you closer into his side.

So much can change in such little time. You’ve experienced this many times in one life. How one day can open a new door to a path otherwise not taken. Showing Sunghoon more of you has made him bloom into a larger ray of light. He seems more comfortable, and now you’ve become the awkward one.

The ride to the city doesn’t normally take this long, or at least you don’t think it does. Every second with him by your side makes the experience feel brand new. The theme of time being unreal is common with him, you’ve discovered. It’s when you’re in the bookstore and see a holiday sale that you realize it’s not even June anymore.

While Sunghoon looks for books for his upcoming college semester, you find yourself in genre sections you never really cared for before. The dark and racy ones were fun to bring home, sure. But innocent, cliche romance was always something cringey to you. Now if you change your perspective to that of research then it’s less daunting, right? Perhaps you’d make sense of all the things you’re discovering about yourself and him. Yeah, that’s convincing enough.

He teases you at the checkout counter when he sees what you picked out. Your face flushes in embarrassment and you can’t even bite back at him or defend your choices. So you smack him with the book on the way out while he laughs and makes jokes that aren’t very funny.

The two of you do manage to catch a movie. You honestly didn’t care to see one, but having to sit silently in a theater for at least an hour and half seemed like enough time for him to, hopefully, forget and drop the whole book situation. It’s a summer slasher film. A group of teens go camping and the plot is very ‘who done it’ style. Overall, it’s a fun choice. You have your turn to laugh and joke when Sunghoon gets jumpy or scared.

After the movie, you both end up at the cafe Sunghoon mentioned while on the bus. There was something painfully intimate about everything today. But especially sitting down to eat with him. Not even your mother could meet you at the table anymore.

“You seem softer today,” Sunghoon states, setting his half-drunk coffee down. “Almost nervous. Is it because we’re out together for our first date? Or just the people in general?”

You raise a brow at his brazen curiosity and observation. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me,” you play with your fork to move around the barely touched food in front of you. “Or maybe it’s a bit of both.”

“If you come to the city enough to know sign language for the man who watches your bike, do you like it better than the countryside?”

“Don’t know. I’m used to the quiet life, but leaving it behind and pretending it’s not there is nice too.”

“What keeps you there?”

“The scenery. The air. The lake. Being friends with the animals.” You look up from the plate to Sunghoon who is watching you like a lecture: attentive and learning. “I’m not very good with people, so I think it suits me alright.”

“You’re good with me though,” he argues softly.

“No, not really. I wish I was more like everyone else,” you inhale deeply as your eyes wander around the bustling cafe. There’s a choir of laughter, conversations, and social dynamics you would have to study to master. “If I were a good person, everything would be easier.”

“...but I like you as you are,” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear, watching you shift in your seat. He doesn’t think you’re not a good person, and it hurts that you see yourself as such.

As Sunghoon speaks, there’s a chime that follows as the front door of the cafe is swung open. A disheveled man stumbles inside, heavy feet stomping the tile floor to attempt to stabilize his disorientation. The man burps obnoxiously loud, and many eyes find him with the grand entrance.

He scratches at his lengthy, unkept beard as he looks around. When his sunken eyes find you sitting at the table nearby his eyes grow wide and his mouth falls open. His hand shakes with a pointed finger in your direction, “y-you! The girl from the reverend’s sermon!” He’s loud, capturing the attention of everyone now. His sloppy movements make way towards you and Sunghoon; you feel everything within you freeze, and your heart knocks at your chest fast and hard with anxiety.

He slams his hands on the table, causing your plates and drinks to rattle. He reeks badly of alcohol and his crazed eyes never leave yours. You swallow thickly, fight or flight mode still trying to understand the situation before you. Meanwhile Sunghoon, worried and confused, slowly begins to stand up and grab your bags.

But you, you’re frozen staring at the messy man who talks of your greatest hate. Your hands tremble on the table.

“I thought the reverend made you up for stories, but my God! You’re the real living thing just like the pictures; his only sin,” he laughs boisterously in your face and you try not to gag. “I saw him a little whiles earlier, ya know,” his voice goes quieter, it’s taunting even. You wish to remain calm but your eyes tremble and a frown takes your face. “I should go find him and tell him you’re here. He really-”

Sunghoon takes your hand, practically dragging you away from the table. You almost fall from your seat, like a baby deer just learning to walk, there’s little strength to your legs.

“It’s not too late! You can be on the right side of things!” his voice ricochets off the walls of the now quiet cafe. “If I can be saved by his preaching, so can you! Look at me!” His mad laughter follows you and Sunghoon outside.

Sunghoon watches you stand on uneasy feet, zoned out staring at the sidewalk. It didn’t take much to put the pieces together that the drunken man was talking about your father. Your father being a reverend who’s not in the picture gave him much to wonder about, but now isn’t the time. He just wanted to get you somewhere away from this memory.

He crouches down in front of you. You slowly blink back to reality, now looking down at his back. You don’t want to speak so you poke his shoulder in questioning.

“Hop on. Let’s go somewhere else.”

“What if I’m heavy?” you look at the bags he’s already holding, feeling that you too are a burdened weight he doesn’t need to hold.

“I’ve got good muscles, remember? Good for farm work,” he’s patient and calm with you while his eyes watch the man from outside the glass cafe windows. “Come on, baby.”

Without thinking, you end up on his back. He carries you on his back, strong arms holding your legs while yours are loosely around his neck. Your insides are a flared up hurricane but at least that allows your body to forget the empty ache you left at the cafe. With your chin hooked over his shoulder, you watch the many people and downtown stores that pass by.

Sunghoon doesn’t exactly know where he’s walking, but thinks it’s best to end the day here and return you to the bus stop. He’s never seen that look on your face before—the one you had when the man was loud in your face. He didn’t like it, and he’s sure you hated it. You looked intimidated, or afraid.

“Would you kill him for me?” you watch the side of his face, “the reverend, I mean.”

He stops in his tracks and turns his head to look back at you, “w-what? I can’t kill someone… and you should joke like that.” he panics, looking around to see if someone was listening to the wild conversation and request.

“Yeah, I know. I’m fucking with you,” you look away to hide your smirk, “and only half joking.”

“Did you believe him before?” He starts walking again, but this time at a slower pace knowing the bus stop isn’t too far now.

“Who? My dad or Our Father?” There’s a use of air quotes at the end of your question.

“Both?” his head tilts.

“Neither,” you confirm. There’s a pause for thought and Sunghoon waits for you to further explain. “My relationship with both is too similar. They’ve both known me my whole life, right? Seen all of my wrong doings and in return shown wrath through unnecessary punishments called forgiveness. In what good world is tolerance violent?”

“What do you mean? What did he do?”

“Sometimes, after my mother set the table for dinner, he would knock my plate to the floor. Tell me to eat off the ground like the animal I was or starve.” Sunghoon frowns at this, coming to a slow stop when he sees the bus shelter bench. “Sometimes I had days and nights locked in the barns, but he switched it up to the basement when I was too close with the animals.” You laugh a little, but he senses the pain behind it. “I watched him kill the animals, too, only to smother me in their blood. Beatings were rare, but I think only because he despised the thought of even touching me.”

Sunghoon slowly sets you down to the ground and breathes out your name safely, taking your hands into his. He looks at you with sorrow, like he was the one who endured it with you.

“God’s orders, am I right? My father, the church goers, speak of God like they’ve seen his face and heard his voice, but they haven’t. I would’ve by now too.”

If He was really in everything, all around, why did He always turn a blind eye? Why does He pretend to not know you? It only made it harder to believe in—something that would bring you here, torture you then watch you suffer for not living how it pleases. God wants to be believed in, but so do you. Only you would never beg for compassion.

Sunghoon squeezes your hands in his, “I don’t think you should stay there. You never deserved that… even if you’re volatile and strange… because you’re also kind and caring. It’s why I like you. It’s their fault for not seeing that,” he reassures. “I haven’t been through what you have, and I can’t understand. I-I mean I can try to, ya know… it’s not like I’d leave if I didn’t.” His words begin to stumble nervously, not confident in its sympathy reaching you where needed.

You laugh nervously, trying to tug your hands away from his grip that doesn’t let up. “Okay sure whatever, this is really embarrassing now…” You swallow hard and find difficulty in meeting his eyes.

That’s all that matters, what he said to you, but you didn’t have it in you to say it. He already knows it though, smiling small and holding your hands still. Without words or excessive displays he can still see it in your eyes, the subtle comfort of acceptance.

He could never blame you for your nature. He sees your anger as you just trying to be strong all while being sad. Whether you are his lover or executioner, he would accept you as you are every time with open arms, receiving hands. Even more readily, now.

　Even more time has passed since knowing Sunghoon. Summer has never flown by so fast. The calendar doesn’t exist to you anymore. It’s only the days you see him and the days that you don’t. The season will be wrapping up in the next few weeks, but only for him. He has to return to his regular scheduled routine of pursuing education while you will stay here, on the farm. It’s rare for you to feel this emotion: fear. You are scared of losing him. And the concept is something you do your best to avoid thinking about because it makes your skin itch with anxiety. It crawls over you like something that needs to be cut out.

And then an idea hits you. Something far more deep-seated than everything else you’ve done with Sunghoon that would solidify that this summer is real and yours. Something that will always stay; a reminder that good things are possible despite how the world has made you.

It’s a damn near perfect day. The sun is so bright, and only peers down onto you both through the gaps of the trees. It’s just warm enough. Just quiet enough aside from the sound of Sunghoon’s gentle breathing and natural composition of the nature that surrounds. Rustling of leaves, chirps of birds, and scurrying of whatever life that wishes to not be seen.

You both sit criss cross at the wooden dock by the lake, simply enjoying the scenery and all it has to offer. His large knee is affixed to yours. If this was early June, you would have moved away. But now it’s a week into August and you wouldn’t have it anywhere else. Just like you always imagined, and secretly wanted, the view is nicer with someone else.

He didn’t bother asking why you never brought him here before, or why it is that you chose to now. He’s just happy that you decided to at all.

You slip a hand into your boot and pull out a pocket knife. You flick it open and do a brief inspection of the cleaned blade. The sun glints off the metal as you turn it.

“Sunghoon, do you trust me?”

His eyes flicker from your blank face to the blade. He nods slowly with a swallow, “of course.” There’s a subtle apprehension to him. You hand him the small blade and leave your palm facing up, open to him.

“Cut a diagonal line down my hand,” you point and draw a line down the middle of your palm.

“Huh, seriously?” he takes the blade confused and concerned with what you’re asking of him. “Why? I can’t hurt you.”

“Do it. Don’t think of it as hurting me, but still do it deep enough to leave a scar.”

He struggles to understand the situation, but you’re so serious and clearly waiting for him to do as you asked. He exhales deeply, taking your hand in his while the other holds the knife just above the bared skin. Hesitant and slow, the tip of the knife pressed down into your flesh. You wince a little, which makes him pause. You nod, encouraging him to continue and he does despite hating the act. He slices the palm of your hand open just as you wanted. You hate blood, but it’s not so bad when caused by him.

“Shit, it stings,” you swallow through the pain. The feel of open flesh burning and stinging. “Your turn,” you exhale while taking the knife back with your free, unharmed hand.

“My turn,” he agrees as if all logic has left him and readily displays his palm to you. Deep down, he feels guilty for hurting you, so to make it even he wants to feel the same.

Just as hesitant and careful, you create a matching wound in his hand. A deep enough, bleeding, lesion in his left hand to match your right one. He cringes at the sight and the pain before looking back to your face. Your expression is so soft yet attentive, almost awestruck.

“Even when you hurt me you’re gentle,” he remarks, watching you in amazement with a meek smile.

“I am not gentle. I have sullied you,” you remind him, your eyes attempt to glare but they’re too bright in his.

“In the softest way, why?” His voice is delicate and still like the lake that sits before you. You blink slowly at him because there are no words to be found. He continues, “I never thought of you as a bad person,” he pauses as you drop the red stained knife, unsure if he should continue at first but does regardless. “And, uhm, I’ve thought a lot about this summer. What I've learned from you. Purity is constructive—like something made to bring shame.” You don’t move, watching him. “I don’t have to be clean to be good…and your hands never made me dirty. Because they never were either.”

Like an excavator to your tall, strong built walls Sunghoon has knocked your shield down. The facade of your character is breaking down, crumbling into the broken pieces that made it. A single tear escapes your eye and runs down your cheek. It’s rare for you to cry and you’re disgusted with the reality as to why it’s now that you break. Simply falling apart from kind words.

You try to use everything in you to ignore the heat in your body, to show the anger you think you’re feeling inside. So your eyes remain sharp and strong, boring into his, as they still water. You swallow the dry lump in your throat and without a word, you take his hand into yours to join in a mix of blood.

At first, you had one goal; one similar to murder. The sparkle he had in his eyes, you wanted to eat—to make them empty—and see the world ugly and godless like you. Yet somehow, somewhere along the way, his eyes shone even brighter. You only wanted to take and take of the innocent boy, but in this moment you realize, maybe I just wanted to give him some of me.

You wipe the wet drop away from your face with haste, pretending as if it was never there. Whatever blood oath you’re making with Sunghoon allows you to feel something indescribable. You don’t know if it’s deserved, but you smile anyways. Because the indescribable feeling feels like it’s an unknown, unspoken promise.

He’s seen you smile before with insidious malice, but this time, for the first time, you are really smiling. It’s a raw expression of surfacing emotions, and he returns the emotion like the sun. He thought of you beautiful before but with your brightness finally peering through your clouds, he believes you to be heaven sent. A part of him always wanted to see you cry—usually it was him with tears in his eyes; which is funny, because he wasn’t much of a cryer himself. You just had that way of breaking him down. He knows now he does for you too. And he can tell that you’re probably the type of person who needs to cry the most.

His hand squeezes yours tighter, a grip so loving, as you bind in one. Neither of your eyes or smiles leave each other until the bleeding stops.

　A week later, Sunghoon asks you on a date. The summer fair is in town. It’s something like a festival where all the locals from towns around the city come to visit and join in on festivities from carnival games, rides, food, and uncommon entertainments. You think of being mean, denying him the acceptance of the date, but you have always wanted to go. So you said yes without your words: took his scarred hand in yours and nodded.

The evening sky is a watercolor of warm tones as the sun begins to lay down for the night. The bright lights of the fair illuminate the large open field turned carnival. There’s a sea of people here tonight, and although it makes you nervous inside, having Sunghoon by your side makes the ordeal easier to handle.

The line for the ticket booth is lengthy but it passes by. You approach the booth, standing a little behind Sunghoon who takes out his wallet to buy your entrance wristband passes and tickets. You look around at the many people: families, friends, and couples, all immersed in their own experience as the music and sounds blend in the background of conversations.

“Oh wow! You’re really handsome,” the girl at the ticket booth gawks at Sunghoon. She straightens her posture and fixes her hair from her face, “one ticke-?”

Catching this, you step forward and snatch Sunghoon’s wallet from his hands, “he already knows that. Do your job or I’ll feed you to pigs.” You slap the cash amount for what you need down onto the table top with a straight face and mean eyes.

Her eyes go wide and she hushes an apology, quickly giving you both wristbands and tickets for the evening. She even threw in extra tickets as you stared her down.

Sunghoon watches you with a flushed face, even the tips of his ears burn red at your jealous threat. You both walk off into the fair, a sheepish smile on his face as he leads you through the crowd with an arm wrapped around your back and hand to your waist.

“Was that one of your jokes too?” he grins down at you.

“Nope,” you glance at him with a small smile. You weren’t sure what came over you in the moment, but it was something internally deep, and territorial. An innate reaction to someone trying to appeal to something that belongs to you. It felt ugly and you didn’t like it.

The idea that he could possibly be taken from you was a phenomenon you’ve thought of for a while now. Knowing he has an existing life outside you, outside of this summer, that he would return you made you sick. You’re far from perfect, or the right thing for him, and he could find a safer option if he ever pleased. Pushing the thoughts away is harder than you imagine, so you cling to his side even more.

You and Sunghoon use up your spare tickets for carnival games. You toss rings around bottles, shoot water guns into the mouth of a clown frame, and throw darts at balloons. The both of you aren’t very skilled at any of the games, but it's fun enough to enjoy the time without winning a prize to show for it.

Eventually, Sunghoon does find frustration within the ‘rigged’ set up of the games. He even pulls out his wallet for cash when the tickets are gone. You’re surprised at how competitive he is; his determined nature is something that stirs your insides around. You don’t know if you’ve ever smiled so much in your life.

After 3 rounds of throwing a ball to knock over a moving target, he does manage to win. Going 3 for 3 and not missing a single shot. The excitement you feel when he succeeds takes over and you’re proud, doing little jumps in place and clapping your hands together.

“You did it! You won!” you exclaim, hugging onto his side.

He can only smile down at your joyfulness. A fire burns in his heart and he hugs you back, kissing your forehead. “All for you. Which prize do you want?”

“It’s yours, you should pick it,” you blush, elbowing his side with a shy smile while your eyes keep looking up to the stuffed white lamb with a lace ribbon around its neck and a cushion gold bell adoring the throat.

Of course, that’s the prize he ends up choosing. It might not be Saint Michael the stuffed bear, but it’s something far happier, cleaner, and softer.

The stuffed animal never leaves your hold throughout the rest of the evening. It rides the many rides you and Sunghoon do. And sits at the picnic table with you both as you share fair snacks. Popcorn and cotton candy was never so sweet for either of you. Like contentment melting on your tongues.

Cliche as ever, Sunghoon wants to end the night there with a round on the ferris wheel. The line moves quickly and when it’s your turn to step into the carriage, he takes your hand and sits you down the seat next to him.

It moves slowly and rocks back and forth with shaky movements that have you gripping the side handles. With an arm around your shoulder, he holds you close to him. The array of flickering colorful lights and people below you feels almost magical.

Taking your eyes from the heightened difference between you and the ground, you look back to the boy beside you who is already looking at you. The reflection of rainbow luminescence glistens in his eyes. It’s even prettier than the view from the top of the little world you’re in. You give him a shy smile, finding it impossible to look away.

He says your name in a whisper, taking your chin between your fingers. “Thank you for choosing to let me in.”

Confused and wide eyed, you watch him lean into your face. You gasp when his lips meet yours before returning the notion. With eyes closed, you melt into his kiss. It’s sweet as all the things you’ve experienced today because of him.

It’s also as clumsy and messy as a kiss can be for two people who’ve never done so before. However, human nature and desire take over and ease the rest for you both. Lips move over another in a gentle waltz, careful and slow.

And as if the situation couldn’t get anymore cliche, fireworks light up the sky. At first you thought it was just your imagination and all the books you’ve read flooding your consciousness, but the booming sounds and cheers of the crowd are too loud to not be real.

You pull away from him first, and he’s already wearing a shit eating grin so wide that you can’t help but roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile back at him. Your face burns in both embarrassment and adrenaline from the kiss.

After that, you don’t leave the city like you should. The bus takes you both back downtown but neither you or Sunghoon feel it’s time for goodbye. So, for the first time, he takes you back to his apartment. You’ve never been to anybody else's home before, and it’s nerve wracking to say the least. The complex is large and somewhat modern, housing many of the second and third year private college students.

When you step inside, it’s quite plain but at least clean. You’re immediately greeted by a boy shorter than Sunghoon. He has a big mouth smile and shining dark eyes. His hair is shaggy but it suits him. He’s practically bouncing on his toes. You shift yourself behind Sunghoon and hold onto his shirt, hiding slightly from the excited puppy-like roommate.

“How did it go? Oh, and nice to finally meet you,” he rambles out quickly, “I’m Jake. The best friend and roommate. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He shoots Sunghoon a wink before grinning back at you. He extends a hand for you to shake but you don’t reach out. Something about his eyes doesn’t sit right with you.

“She’s shy,” Sunghoon laughs a little as he guides you past Jake and towards his room. “It was fun though. I recommend going before it’s gone.”

“Ah, you got yourself a nice little angel, huh?” Jake leans over the kitchen island, watching you both. His smile falters. “I’ll have one of my own some day.” For some reason, you think of him as a secret pervert.

Sunghoon laughs his comment off and tells Jake goodnight before showing you to his room. His room is neat and as simple as a college boy’s room can be. A bed, desk, dresser, closet, and bathroom. One poster of a musician you’ve never listened to and a window with unopened blinds.

You sit yourself at the end of his bed and he sits down next to you. There’s some awkward silence as you look around, unsure of what you’re supposed to do. He feels similarly to your internal dilemma.

“I-I’ve never had-”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. Of course he’s never had a girl over. And of course you’ve never been over to a boys house.

“Are you tired?” he asks, and you lie by nodding your head. So you both get ready for bed. He gives you a shirt to borrow for bed that change into in his bathroom while he changes into sweats and a t-shirt in his room.

In minutes you’re both laying in his bed under the covers and staring up at his ceiling in the dark room. Not a word is said as you both lay there wide awake and untouching. But you know he’s wanting to by the way his body is shifting and turning, inching closer with every minute movement.

And before you know it, although expected, his body is nestled closely to yours. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into an embrace. For the most part, he usually does keep his space. Knowing how you are when it comes to physical touch that feels too sudden or invading. But with barriers breaking down more over time, he thinks you’re learning to handle the comfort better.

“I thought you were tired?” he mumbles, head on your shoulder. His hands trace up and down your arms that are wrapped around yourself like a guard.

“I lied,” you whisper. Your eyes can’t look at him yet, so they remain aimless to the ceiling. Some moonlight slips through his cracked window blinds, giving you enough view of the spinning ceiling fan.

“I had fun today. Mostly because you did. I like seeing you happy,” he smiles after kissing your shoulder that’s exposed in the neckline of his shirt too big for you. “And… I liked when you kissed me back,” his voice is quiet and shy-like.

“Do you want to do it again?” Your eyes shift to him and you can barely see the warm flush to his cheeks. He’s cute.

Taken aback at first, he just blinks at you with a parted mouth. Then he nods his head slowly, licking over his lips.

You turn over onto your side to face him and his hands don’t leave your waist. Unsure of what to do with your own, you wrap them around his neck. Good thing they sit behind him and it’s dark in the room because it would kill you for him to notice the slight tremor in your fingers.

With a scarily racing heart and stiff, trembling body you surge forward to kiss him. His lips are quick to capture yours. Soft and pillow-like, they mold into yours in waves. What starts off as clumsy and unskilled turns into hunger. Something desperate and needy. His grip feels bruising to your hips but in a nice way. In a way you want it to hurt more.

His nails digging further into your flesh to keep you impossibly close make your lips gasp, or maybe it’s the lack of air, or just both. And instinctively his tongue is licking its way past your lips and into your mouth. He kisses you like he’s starved for it. His wet tongue drags over yours, and your teeth, then as far as it can inside of you. He whimpers, pressing his already hard cock to you as he licks and kisses you open.

Your stomach has never burned this way before, and you feel the hot sensation all over then down to your core that aches like it’s hungry too. You feel disgusted by yourself but can’t fight the hum you make as you devour him right back. You’re getting wetter every second he’s in your mouth.

This time, he pulls away first. Panting for air and staring at you with glazed over dark eyes. He licks over his wet lips again, savoring the taste of you on himself. He bites down onto it and a part of you wishes it was you he sunk his teeth in.

“Can I do what I did last time?” he breathes out, his hips involuntarily jerking up against you at the thought alone.

While trying to act like you’re not catching your breath too, you say quietly, “do whatever you want.”

He kisses you again but with more desperation. You try to do the same but you can feel your heart and your head preparing for battle. The way he’s feeling you up and grinding himself on you is in no way unwanted, and that’s part of the reason you’re struggling to maintain presence.

It’s so much happening so quickly, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t imagine this happening eventually. Sex was inevitable. The way his body yearns to be one with yours makes you feel special almost. He’s already engraved into you but in his mind he has to be inside of you and it hurts so badly how you think the same.

But is the last thing that keeps him pure really yours to take? You’ve stripped so much away from him for all the wrong reasons before and now it feels strange. You are no good and that’s all he is.

The only thing keeping you here, in the moment, is him. His exploratory and gentle yet rough hands, his body grinding into you, his lips that can’t leave yours or your skin for even a second, and the weak wanting sounds that leave them.

“I need more, please. I want- I need to feel good with you. Please,” he’s whining into your ear. Then pressing kisses along your jaw and neck that are all so tender, slow, and deliberate. Large hands caress you like you’re breakable, as if not already just a body of fragmented pieces made whole and called a person.

Your still shaking hand reaches down between your two bodies and slips past his sweats. He had the nerve to go commando and you wish you could tease him, but you can’t. You’re lucky you’re even here right now and breathing his air. Your hand wraps around his aching length and gives him a few tugs to which he’s quick to moan. He kicks off his sweatpants while you bring him closer to you. The plush of your thighs trap him; he whimpers against the soft heat of your flesh.

Your hips grind up into him once, showing him what he should do too. He’s slow to start, rocking himself between your thighs. Slutty and hopeless sounds leave him in a string of his want. His leaking hard cock is so close to your core. Only the thin layer of your underwear keeps him from feeling your clear need for him too.

Wrapped in each other's arms, you bury your head to his shoulder. You can feel the pulse of his aching desire rubbing and grinding against you. It makes you shiver in sensitivity and cower further into his neck. You don’t bite down onto your lip, but his neck. There’s a sting to your eyes because you hate it—the wet warmth that pools out of you. Your sin sticks to your underwear and your skin like the red raining life of all the animals you made leave the earth; your haunting subconscious correlates with your growing pleasure.

You know you’re not religious yet every time Sunghoon touches you there’s a divinity to it and it makes your hands want to join in prayer to thank the universe for sending someone like him to you. Because his hands roam your body as if they have in every world; as if there is not one timeline where you have not been made for him. Like you were carved from his rib every time.

Your body smolders in that angry way it always did whenever Sunghoon got too close to you. Whenever his words were too kind, his touch too gentle, or god forbid when he just smiled at you. That fire is just the divine nature of your relationship, lighting up everywhere he touches and leaving flames in the wake. You thought it was your body rejecting his purity, but you were only denying the likeness. He made you feel good. And in the most ironic way possible. You just didn’t think you deserved it.

Yet an anguished moan leaves you, rumbling against his skin as you bite down harder. Regardless of it all, he is yours right now.

The feeling of your sinking teeth in him, the sounds you’re now making, and the damp heat between your legs he can’t stop chasing all makes his head spin. He bites down onto you just the same and it only makes you moan louder.

“Please,” he’s whining again through the bite. His voice a needy tremble while his hips stutter and thrust between your legs that only squeeze tighter together. The way the fat of your legs hug his raging cock through his desperate grinds makes him chase more and more for that feeling he just can’t seem to reach. The crying tip kisses and pushes up then past your leaking folds every time. It drives you both insane.

If your body is the fiery lake of creation's deepest pit, then he is the cleanest ocean of earth’s highest point. If anyone could extinguish you, and possibly make you feel whole, it was Sunghoon.

This is the most horrifying reality you’ve come face to face with. Not just intimacy, but a stronger driving emotion. You have to open yourself, rip open your chest and bare your beating heart in all its naked vulnerability. Let it scream out I like being with you. You have allowed this person into your world that nobody else has dared to step foot in. To see you in such ugly ways yet still extend their arms for you. It’s a terrifying level of closeness that you’ve never once experienced and you don’t know what to do with. You’re beyond perplexed by what he’s done to you, in both terror and awe.

You pull back from Sunghoon and he pauses everything for a moment to look at you, noticing your wet eyes. Before he can ask what’s wrong you reach down and slip off your underwear. You shift your body and maneuver him as best you can until he’s on top of you. Rattled with concealed embarrassment you remove his shirt and toss it somewhere to the floor, and he does the same.

You take a deep breath and reach back down to his cock, lining it up with your pussy. You blink and swallow away all the things trying to stop you from allowing yourself him. Pliant beneath him, you grab his shoulders and pull him down to you for a quick kiss. Foreheads now pressed together with lips ghosting over the others, you tell him, “I hate you.”

Sunghoon only smiles down at you before kissing you once more. With his arms caged around you, he slowly pushes himself forward. The fat tip of his cock fails to go through you, only sliding up and past the wet folds. He whines feeling the warm slick coat the head; his entire body shudders. He nearly cums from that alone.

He looks at you confused, and nod once while trying to shift your hips around for a better angle. It’s not like you to be so quiet during things like this. It only tells him that for once, you’re nervous about new things the way he was.

So he tries again, this time a little rougher. He thrusts his hips forward, the tip pushing past the tight walls but still barely in. You whimper at the intrusion and the feeling of you being stretched open. Your hands squeeze hold onto his biceps for purchase.

The tight sensation of your pussy squeezing his tip feels otherworldly to him. He can’t help but need to sink deeper into you. His cock pushes in further at an agonizing pace until he’s as deep as he can possibly go. His arms shake while he tries to maintain his strength and keep himself from collapsing onto you completely. The wet walls that surround him flutter and try to pull him further inside, making him feel lightheaded. His moans are so needy it’s almost like he’s crying from the feeling.

“Oh, f-fuck!” you whimper. Having Sunghoon completely inside of you feels so full. You’re stuffed with him and it hurts so good. “You gotta move, Hoon. Feels like you’re splitting me open.”

“You're so tight, mm.” His hips stutter from your words alone and he whimpers again. He pulls himself out halfway while your gummy walls kiss around him in an attempt to suck him back to be filled again. He begins to rock himself in and out of you. It’s inexperienced and awkward, but he gets the hang of it quickly. Doing what feels best for him and what seems to be the best for you too.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you,” you whisper harshly, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. It all burns while feeling like heaven. Never have you been so full, held so gently, or seen than this summer. You bite back the breaking moans and whimpers. You claw at his skin. You even begin to cry when your hips can’t stop chasing his thrusts.

“I love you too,” he whispers back. A kiss is pressed to your forehead as his cock pistons you. Sunghoon is smart enough to know you’re a liar. Your mean words that used to hurt him, he now understands. You’re not really a bad person. And you don’t hate him. You were just really damaged and if he’s damned for trying to heal that then he’s fine with that too.

“I mean it,” your body shudders, feeling his tip pound so far and deep in places inside you that you didn’t know reachable. His fat cock drags out and forces through your tight hole, making you cream all over him more and more. The sounds that leave your body, the sounds your bodies are making, it’s so obscene. Fighting off the disgust and focusing on how he makes you feel is war. It’s so hard for you to win.

“No you don’t,” he shifts himself to sit on his knees, taking your legs and wrapping them around his waist. He leans forward and kisses both of your cheeks before fucking himself into you again, only harder and faster than before.

“Ngh,” you moan again through broken sobs, blinking away the tears as you stare up at him. “I’m t-trying to.”

“I know, baby.” he mumbles before capturing your wobbling lips into a searing kiss. “It’s okay, haah, don’t cry. You’re good. You’re so good for me,” he says against your wet lips. You can only sniffle and try to turn your head away from him in your embarrassment. “No, no.” he takes your chin with his thumb and finger, forcing you to look back at him. His thrusts never letting up during his care. “Look at me. You’re so good to me.” He reminds you over and over. “We’re so good together. I’m yours. you’re mine.”

“Say it again,” you sniffle through little sounds of sin. Your hand finds a place on his cheek, and your thumb rubs over his lips that wear a smile.

“You’re so good, good for me. We are so good together. I am yours. And you are mine,” he says softly. His eyes are so filled with love, and if you could see your reflection in his then you would know yours are too. “Say you’re good, baby, it’s okay.”

“I’m good,” you sob through your whimpers, “I’m yours.”

To Sunghoon, the idea of sex was always sacred. Something that’s only done and shared between lovers bound by marriage of the church. But now, he thinks differently. He knows that there is no shame in him loving you now or years later. And he was more than happy to make love to you all night until you believed it too.

　Perhaps there was a thing such as divine intervention and if God’s timing was alway right, he knew how to be evil with it too. Because the next day, when Sunghoon takes you home, he’s met with your maker.

Your mother, aware of the frequent trips you’ve been making and how close you’ve grown to the summer farmhand boy, is quick to make a call to your father the night you don’t return home. It wasn’t necessarily because she cared for your well being. You’re more than capable of handling yourself. But it was an excuse to try and get him to come back. Only it doesn’t go how she wanted.

When you see the reverend’s car parked in front of your house, your heart drops. Sunghoon picks up on your tension, He sees how you go blank at the sight and slowly turn back into the empty girl he met months ago. He tries to hold your hand but your fingers can’t move, can’t return the embrace.

When the reverend walks out of the house with his infamous weapon of sacrificial forgiveness, you know what to do. Your body moves on its own, leaving Sunghoon to reach out for you that walks towards the woods. He goes to follow you and the desolate man that stalks behind, but your mother stops him. She’s hysterical as she drags him towards your house saying, “it’s going to be okay.” But she’s crying.

Once out of their sight, the reverend takes you by the hair. He yanks your head around, pulling you towards that cursed tree. He’s uncharacteristically rough and your scalp screams for a release but you don’t show it. You don’t even look at the man. Not even when he’s tossing your body to the ground.

“So you’re whoring around with my employees now, huh? Was ruining this farm not enough for you?” His words mean nothing to you. You dust off the dirt and go to stand again, but he kicks you back down. You tsk under your breath as he speaks again, “I’ve seen all the things you’ve done. Seen you leave my barns with red hands and smile. Cut heads off chickens like an anatomy project. Is he next? That church boy?”

Now you look up to glare at him. Seeing the reverend was aggravating enough, but to say something about Sunghoon was infuriating to you. “I am not a killer. You are! And those animals were already dead.” You spit at his black leather church shoes.

“Oh, you disgusting little devient,” he laughs lowly, untying the rope from the tree. “Your cruelty shouldn’t bring you joy. Sick and twisted, I should’ve dealt with you sooner regardless of what your drunk bitch mother protested. I can save the boy when you’re gone.”

“What?” you shuffle backwards from him, angry and confused as he stalks closer to you until you’re backed against the tree. “All those things I did was because of you. Your righteousness made me rotten!” Your hands shake, gripping at the dirt ground for anything to make the fear stop. You glance up to the empty tree branch then the rope in his hands. Where is the lamb? You think briefly before it hits you. “You’re crazy,” you whisper, “I will not be your martyr… not now what I’m finally-”

“Condemn me to Hell for all I care,” he crouches down in front of you, “This is the last time I’ll be a killer.” He throws the rope to your lap and tells you to tether yourself.

“Why do you hate me?” The words scratch at your throat. When you were younger, you did want the reverend to hate you. It was when he noticed you most, and it’s all you really knew. But now you’re older, and his disdain never made sense.

You can’t bring yourself to move even if you wanted to. Was this His plan? To allow you one good thing in life before ending it? Was ruining Sunghoon your final sin?

The rope shakes with your fingers as you stare down at it. The twine of the rope burns over the palm of your hand where Sunghoon carved his promise. Your throat feels dry, tight and suffocating; choking on everything you’ve ever done. And your eyes still puffy from the night before well with tears all over again.

“I just do,” he thinks of slicing your neck open right there. So fuck tying you down, you were always secretly another lamb anyways. He raises his knife and the metal sits cold under your chin as he lifts your head up to look back at him.

“Okay…” you swallow.

Your eyes squeeze shut and so does your mouth, as you raise your head to the sky with an exposed throat. Why isn’t this easy? Unlike the animals, you do know what’s coming. And it’s scary. Scary not because of death, but because you aren’t ready. You haven’t told Sunghoon goodbye or that you love him back. And the thought of him finding something in this world to hate, is such an ugly feeling to die with.

And then there’s a loud noise. A booming bang, followed by unsteady feet falling back and the ground rumbling with a thud.

You open your eyes and your father is on his back clutching his abdomen. He coughs and gasps before raising his hand. It’s dripping in deep red. And you can’t help but smile with tears in your eyes as you exhale a jagged breath.

You turn your head and Sunghoon stands there with the shotgun in hand, open mouthed and wide eyed.

“Sunghoon!” you scramble to your feet and run over to him, taking the gun from his hands as he’s frozen in shock.

“H-he was going to- he was about to hurt you. I had to-!” he stutters, his eyes already crying and hands shaking, still feeling the weight and recoil of the gun.

“It’s okay,” you coo softly. “Just- go back to the house and I’ll be right there, okay?” You rush out. Still in shock and dazed, he blindly trusts you and does as you say.

When he’s no longer close by, you walk over to the reverend with a blank face. You stare down at him as he tries to crawl away, dirty and bleeding. The smile you make doesn’t reach your eyes.

You point the gun back down at him, and place your foot over the shot wound Sunghoon created. The man gasps and tries to swat at your leg but you only press the gun further into his face, making him surrender.

“Divine intervention, huh? Say it with me now. I know no punishment, only mercy.” Your voice is quiet, calm, and mocking of his tone. With the barrel to his forehead, you watch him writhe in pain and cough up a little blood.

“Go to Hell,” he spits his words like venom.

“If you say it, I’ll let you live. But if you show your face to me or Sunghoon again, I’ll shoot you right between the eyes.” Your foot presses down harder. You can feel that angry little girl inside of you jumping with joy.. Knowing his God demands to be bled for, and making him know the sacrificial suffering, well it feels good to say the least. “Say it. With me. Now.” Each word pronounced with the growing applied pressure to his shot wound. And then he begs for forgiveness. He’s never seen you smile the way you did when he was below you with those words. Empty eyes were never so alive for him either. He cries and chants ‘I know no punishment, only mercy’ over and over. It was like the most beautiful hymn.

　There wasn’t much to be said about that day. Sunghoon and you just pretend you shared a nightmare. Neither of you talked about it. It was just another thing that tied you together.

Sitting there in the peak of summer’s heat. A day before Sunghoon returns to college classes. Birds chirp. The leaves of the tall trees thistle in the light breezes that pass by. Sunghoon sits criss crossed and while you have your feet hanging off the edge of the dock, kicking in the water.

“I’m sorry,” you break the silence. Shocked, he looks over to you. He never would have expected you to apologize for anything. “I was selfish when I approached you. I wanted to take all that goodness out of you and keep it for myself. I thought I wanted to hurt you, but after sharing all this time with you, I realized I was wrong. It’s weird to say it out loud,” you laugh small, awkward, “but I really am sorry. I love you more than even I know.” You stare down to your feet in the water that has gone still. A tear falls from your eye, and down to your cheek.

“I know. I love you too,” he wraps an arm around your waist. “But now the same sins bind us.” You hiccup silently and turn to look up at him. “Harvest all of my purity, farmer’s daughter.”

For the first time, you really laugh. It’s bright and loud like the big smile he’s seeing for the first time on his favorite face. It’s morning sunlight that whispers through trees to kiss the forest floor. Birds that sing songs of hope to awake life into a new day. Nostalgic, expansive days of childhood where the concept of time doesn’t exist. To him, you look like the epitome of summer; he doesn’t want this season to end.

You were never the lamb. Or the wolf. Not an animal at all. Nothing like the ones you grew up with. You were just a girl, scared and alone. But not anymore. Because it’s your last day on this farm, and tomorrow is the first with only Sunghoon.

“Your humor is poetry.” you continue to laugh until tears prick your eyes all over again. You love it.

“It wasn’t supposed to be funny.” he looks away shyly, blushing. It only makes your giggle more, but you stop to press a kiss to his cheek. He blushes harder.

“I’ll keep doing it, harvesting all of your purity, for as long as you’re good.” you say with a smile.

“Do you promise? I am always good, especially with you, so it could be a long while.” He bumps your shoulder playfully with a laugh.

You take his scarred hand in yours and you laugh like he did, pure and true, “I do.”

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wardenparker · 3 days ago

Text

It Had to Be You

Dave York x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: M for Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.1k Warnings: Fluff, meddling daughters, implied sex, mostly just gross cuteness. Reader is a full adult, no specified age gap. Summary: From a summer babysitting gig to a full fledged romance, your relationship with Dave has been an unexpected whirlwind. Once which turns into a tidal wave when his daughters get involved. But in the end...do you really mind? Or is it the perfect storm that will bring your happy ending? Notes: A little sappy romance for Valentine's Day. Nothing more or less 💖🌹

It's Wednesday, which means Molly and Alice York have insisted on chicken fingers for dinner. Crusted with Corn Flakes and set in the air fryer to get nice and crunchy. There is a skillet of cheesy cornbread in the oven and you're in the middle of making your now-famous broccoli salad recipe (complete with bacon, which is how you got them to eat it in the first place and now they can't get enough) when the girls troop in from the living room to stand very seriously in front of you in the kitchen.

They had been playing a board game, but that is apparently over now, as Alice stands tall on the other side of the counter and asks what time dinner will be.

"In about twenty minutes, honey. Can you wait or would you like some apple slices?" You've been babysitting for them all summer long as their father works on the fixer-upper Victorian in your little town that he had gotten for a steal. There's a reason it was so cheap – it needs a lot of work. Not wanting the girls to be hanging around an unsafe area, he had hired you to take care of them during the day.

"We can wait," Alice assures you. She's always very poised for newly eleven years old. "We want to talk to you and Daddy at dinner."

"Oh yeah?" Raising one eyebrow at them, you wipe your hands on a nearby kitchen towel and turn to face the girls. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's good." She pipes up, giving you a grin that looks so much like her daddy when he's particularly pleased with himself. Her mom always says that she is his little miniature, although she looks like herself when she looks in the mirror. "Really good." She cuts her eyes over to Molly, who giggles and nods.

"Great!" The youngest squeaks between giggles, obviously pleased with their plan to have a discussion with the adults.

Okay..." It's the end of the summer, so you have an inkling that they may have cooked up a plan to ask their Dad for a trip to the amusement park or something before school starts. Figuring it's no more than that, you flash the girls a grin and decide not to dwell on wondering. "What do you guys want to dip your chicken fingers in tonight?"

“Honey mustard.” Molly says at the exact same time Alice says, “Barbecue sauce!”

They are nothing if not consistent, and you grin at the girls and nod. “Honey mustard and barbecue sauce. Got it. Why don’t you guys go clean up your game in the living room so we’re all ready to eat when your dad comes down?” Dave had waved on his way past ten minutes ago when he came in from working to take a shower, always claiming he was gross from working on the house all day. He’ll come down again in sweatpants and a T-shirt exactly a half hour after going up, so everything should be timed perfectly.

“Okay!” Both girls chime in and rush towards the living room, feet thundering over the original hardwood floors. They were easy enough to get to clean up, Dave was the type that always believed in making his bed after getting up, so they had been taught to put things away early on.

“Thank you!” You call after them, laughing to yourself and throwing the last handful of chopped bacon into the broccoli salad so you can put it in the fridge to rest while dinner finishes cooking.

Exactly twenty minutes later, Dave's steps are relatively heavy for him on the stairs. He had made a point to start moving less quietly after one particular time he had frightened you by showing up when you had not heard him coming. "It smells great, must be chicken tenders night." He jokes, knowing how his kids love their routines. Wednesday was a favorite meal time in this York household.

“Chicken tenders, cornbread, and broccoli salad.” The girls are still in the living room for now, and you offer him a lopsided smile when he comes into the kitchen to grab the stack of plates for the table. “The girls have requested to talk to us at dinner,” you inform him as formally as they informed you.

HIs brows shoot up and he glances towards the living room. "Are we in trouble?" He asks, half amused with the forty-year-old attitudes his little girls sometimes display. "Don't tell me that I'm grounded. I have plans." He smirks slightly and moves to grab a piece of raw broccoli off the cutting board.

“Got a hot date?” You tease under your breath and glance over at the door to make sure the girls don’t hear you.

"The hottest." He murmurs softly, reaching out to squeeze your hip gently before letting you go to flip around and lean against the counter. "I'm thinking that after the girls go back to their mother, I'm going to rip out the kitchen. The second bathroom upstairs is almost finished, and I know that I don't have to cook every day for myself." He looks around the kitchen that was desperately in need of an upgrade. "Will you tell me what you hate about this kitchen so I know what to do differently?"

“Storage space and cabinet height.” You can answer that question immediately. This thing with Dave started so quickly after you took up the summer gig babysitting his girls that it feels like whiplash sometimes, but you fell for him harder than you ever thought possible. The divorced father of two with a complicated custody agreement and mysterious past stole your heart immediately and you don’t regret it for a second.

He nods, looking at the cabinets. "They are tall." He frowns slightly and looks back at you. "Are you having to get a ladder?" He asks. The kitchen is old, poorly laid out and he has plans to completely redo it and turn the tiny second dining room into a butler's pantry after stealing some of the space for the kitchen itself.

"I actively try not to use anything you've put on the top shelves," you admit. It's mostly extra things up there and some of the nicer serving pieces, but it's way too high up for you to reach without – as he said – a ladder.

"I'm thinking about turning that small little space over there," He points to the small room that was useless for much, "into a butler's pantry so everything can be easy to get to." He smirks. "The top of the cabinets, I would put in glass display cases to do those fancy plates up at the top or the holiday shit that the girls love."

"So I can send you up on a ladder to get them for the holidays and not have to do it myself? Gotta say I love that." Nudging him toward the plates and cups that will go on the table for tonight's solidly informal meal, you snag the skillet of cornbread off the counter to walk it five feet across the kitchen to the rounded bay windows where he set up the table. It's time for dinner and the York household does its best to be punctual.

"Girls!" Dave calls out, aware the kids are in the living room and probably playing on their phones. He didn't really like them having cell phones at such a young age, but Carol had scoffed at keeping a home phone and insisted that she be able to talk to the girls whenever she wanted. Dave just might have tweaked the security on them to make sure they were only on kid-friendly sites.

The thundering of little feet is immediate as Alice and Molly come careening into the room, throwing themselves at their father for those all-important hugs before standing side-by-side at the sink to wash their hands.

Dave smiles as he watches them. Reminding himself that he had nearly missed all of this. Too busy, too caught up in his work, travelling all the time to take contracts that didn't matter until it almost killed him. By the time he had woken up and retired, Carol was done, checked out the marriage he had not given his all too so he couldn't blame her for that. So he had decided to move back to his hometown and try to give his kids the life he had before the military when he has them.

"Did you girls have fun today?" He asks.

"Yeah!" Molly hops up onto her chair and reaches for her water glass immediately, thirsty from all the conspiring she has been doing with her sister. Secret conspiring. "We played games and looked at pretty things on our phones."

"Pretty things, huh?" Dave hums curiously and wonders if he should take a look at their phones later on. "What kind of things?"

"Flow—" Molly starts, pushing her plate forward to be served, but Alice shoots her an animated look of warning and she shuts her mouth immediately. "I mean—nothing!"

Dave catches the half word and is curious, but he doesn't press. Knowing that his kids would clam up just like he would if pressed.

"Nothing can be very pretty." You flash the girls an encouraging smile as you and Dave fill their plates and then your own. Getting the girls settled is always first priority at meals and even though they're pretty well mannered, they can obviously still be picky.

They groan at the broccoli salad until Molly tastes it and declares it the best thing ever so both girls beg for extra portions. "We eat good when I don't cook, don't we?" Dave asks as he complies with their tiny terrorist demands.

"Uh-huh!" Molly is shoveling broccoli salad into her face as fast as she can chew, but takes a breather to tease her Dad. "You definitely missed the day they taught cooking in grown-up school."

Dave snorts and rolls his eyes before he puts on a faux pout. "Hey." He huffs. "I make the 'bestest' sandwiches." He reminds the two of them. "At least that's what you told me on Sunday."

"That's not cooking." Alice informs him sagely. "That's assembling."

"When did you get so smart?" He asks in awe of her correct use of the word.

"Food Network." Alice tells him with a giggle. It's her new thing, and you have sat and watched cooking shows with the girls from time to time. They've even started taking part in putting their lunches together a couple of times a week.

"Television chefs." He chuckles. "Maybe they can teach me a few things."

"They could!" Molly nods eagerly. She's abandoned her fork in favor of picking at her cornbread with her fingers and is loving her life. "That's where this came from. We saw it on tv."

"Cornbread came from tv?" He pretends to be impressed and hums. "That's interesting."

"We made it from the recipe on tv." Alice clarifies, as though her father couldn't possibly understand. She and Molly didn't necessarily do a lot to help tonight, but they've been busy with other things. They did pick out the recipe, though.

"Oh." He picks up his piece of cornbread and takes a big bite, letting out a moan of pleasure. "Oh my God, this is incredible." He praises it effusively, wanting them to be proud of their recipes.

He's so sweet with his girls. He praises them and engages with them. Encourages them to have deep and thoughtful conversations. He never wants them to feel like they shouldn't be taken seriously just because they're young. It's honestly one of the things you love most about him – watching him raise these two girls into curious and intelligent young women.

"Really, Daddy?" Molly is wide-eyed and picking up her own cornbread to take a bite.

"Cross my heart." He makes an 'x' over his heart and takes another bite. "I could eat all this myself."

"You guys did a great job," you commend, watching both girls puff up with pride at the table. They grated a little cheese, measured out ingredients, and dumped things into bowls in the correct order, so this is definitely a win for two brand-new kid cooks.

"Maybe we get you some aprons?" He asks. "For when you are back over Christmas?" He has two solid weeks with them over the Christmas holiday, although he had offered to let Carol see them Christmas Day. He knows it sucks to spend the holiday without the girls. "I will probably have the kitchen as pretty as you girls are by then." He smiles. "Maybe."

"Impossible." Molly giggles. She is digging into her chicken again with enthusiasm. "We're the prettiest princesses. That's what you said."

"You are." He smiles, happy they are still of an age where they believe him, wanting them to have self-confidence. "I meant every word."

"Sooo..." Alice looks at her sister, their silent communication unmistakable in this moment, and she sits up straight in her chair. "You wouldn't say...we have the prettiest babysitter in the world?"

Dave's frown lasts for only a split second before he is lifting his brows and looking towards you. "Um, I would have to agree." He nods slowly, trying to figure out what game the kids are playing. "She is very pretty."

"Pretty like a princess?" Molly can't hold back a giggle and she ducks her face behind her water glass when Alice tries to nudge her to keep it together.

He presses his lips together and glances over at you with a slightly amused look. "Yeah, my darlings." He hums. "She's pretty like a princess."

"Sooo..." Alice prompts again, pushing a piece of chicken around her plate with the tines of her fork. "Do you think she's pretty enough to take out on a date?"

"Is this some kind of set up?" Dave asks, look back and forth between the girls.

"We were just wondering why you only do nice things together at home and not out on date like grown-ups are supposed to do," Molly explains. It has been the main topic of conversation between the girls for weeks now and they had finally decided that tonight was the night to speak up about it.

"What do you mean?" Dave tilts his head, wondering if the girls are confusing being polite to one another for a relationship. "I'm supposed to be nice to her, she takes care of you two for me."

Molly and Alice collapse into conspiratorial giggles for long enough to concern you before Molly pipes up again in her deceivingly innocent voice. "You kiss her for taking care of us?" She asks, already knowing the answer.

Well shit. Dave had thought that you and he had been discreet enough. He shoots a look over at you and coughs slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Daddy." Alice huffs, tilting her head just like Dave does when he's asking a question he already knows the answer to. "We saw you. In the pool. On Saturday."

Shit. Shit. Shit. You try so hard not to let your eyes widen, but you knew that late night swim had been a bad idea. It was just too tempting to turn down, when Dave suggested that you go for a swim after the girls had gone to bed.

He pauses, aware that he and you have been clearly found out. "That's all?" He asks, aware that far more than kissing had happened in that pool.

"Have you kissed more than that?" Clearly excited, Molly leans forward in her chair like she's just been given an unexpected gift.

Dave looks over at you for permission, this is also your deal as well. He doesn't want to overstep by telling the girls something you don't want them to know.

"Seems like it's time," you admit quietly, although this is definitely not what you were expecting when the girls said they wanted to talk to you at dinner. The relationship had happened by accident, as the two of you fell together easily and often while you took care of his girls six days a week. You had just been convinced that you were a lot better at hiding it than you apparently have been.

Dave reaches over and takes your hand. "Girls....well, we like each other." He admits with a gentle smile, squeezing your hand. "But we haven't been out on dates because we enjoy spending time together here." There's more to it than that, it would have alerted the girls to what was happening and who would watch them? He had planned to take you out after they went back to their mother's house.

"Do you like like each other?" Alice, at eleven, is becoming more and more versed in the pre-teen designations for relationships and has been applying them to any and all situations involving her and Molly's dolls so it's not entirely unexpected.

"We do." Dave tells her firmly. "That's why you saw us kissing."

"Okay." It's like that was the key that the girls were waiting for, and they both sit up decisively. "We have a plan." Molly tells you both with a wide, toothy grin.

"A plan?" If you weren't holding Dave's hand so firmly you might be trying to hide in embarrassment. Thank god the girls only saw you kiss. A whole lot of things happened in that pool last weekend...and all over this house, if you're honest. Things that are definitely not okay for little eyes to see.

"Yeah." She grins, another look that is just like Dave and it puts him on edge. His daughters might be innocent in ways that he no longer is, but they are crafty.

"What kind of plan?" He asks softly, not wanting them to think that he's upset with them.

Producing a sheet of paper from under her chair cushion, Alice flattens it out on the table with a grin. "For your wedding," she tells you both confidently.

“W—wedding?” Dave’s eyes widen and he stares at the little girls, waiting for them to giggle and tell him that it’s a joke.

"You need to build a 'zeebo in the backyard." Molly tells him, in a tone that very much implies that he is already behind schedule. "And plant some pretty flowers that won't die."

You can't help it, it's the comment on Dave's black thumb that cracks you, making you snort and have to smother a giggle behind your hand at the table. "Did you...plan a wedding?" The sheet has things drawn out rather than written – crayon flowers and a gazebo in one corner of the paper. An incredibly poofy white dress in another, being worn by a crayon woman with your complexion and something in the vicinity of your hair. There's even a drawing of a gigantic cake right next to an illustration of a slice of that cake with all the flavors that are inside.

Dave stares at the paper in shock, the question of the girl’s approval firmly answered by this turn of events.

“Of course we did.” Alice answers, like it’s ridiculous to think otherwise. “Valentine’s Day. That’s when you’ll get married.”

"This is very well planned out." It's crazy, but you have to hand it to the girls. They have definitely given this some thought. An enormous amount of thought, actually, considering they've even picked out the day. "Is this one the two of you as flower girls?"

“Molly’s gonna be the ring bearer since we don’t have a brother.” Alice tells you, pointing to the little pillow before she looks at her father. “You have to buy her a pretty ring, Daddy.” She reminds him, like she’s checking off a to do list.

Apparently, there was no need to worry about the girls approving of your relationship. They are so entirely on board that they've already jumped sixteen steps ahead. You squeeze Dave's hand gently, wondering what he thinks of this. He seems almost too gob smacked to talk right now and you really can't blame him.

“Have you picked out the ring too?” Dave manages, after his daughter huffs impatiently at him for his answer.

"It's right there, Daddy!" Molly points to the page just as impatiently as her sister. In the center of the sheet of paper is a meticulously drawn silver ring with a stone shaped like a heart. "I wanted to color it pink but Alice said rings are supposed to be clear."

“Some are.” Dave agrees with a smile. “But I think a pink heart would be a pretty ring.”

"Very pretty." If there's a dreamy quality in your voice, it's entirely by accident. This is...it's a hell of a lot to take in over an average Wednesday night dinner. But it's also not bad. It's not bad at all. "It's...it's very soon, though, girls. Most people are together for a long time before they start to talk about getting married." The last thing you want is for Dave to feel like he has to stay with you for his girls. That's not the right reason at all.

“That’s a long time from now” Molly snorts, her view of time much different from yours due to the age and life experience differences you have. “If you’re kissing, then you can just kiss more when you’re married.” She points out.

There's no arguing with that logic, and you barely manage to stifle another laugh. "Do you know what it would mean for you girls, though?" You ask gently. "If I married your Dad?"

“Yeah.” Alice nods. “You would be our second Mommy.” She frowns, trying to remember the exact phrase. “Step-mom!” She cries excitedly when it comes to her. “We get to have two moms and when our other mom remarries, we will have two dads! More love!”

"That...is true. It is more love. Four parents instead of two is a lot of love." It might be the most excited you've ever seen two kids at the prospect of having step-parents, and frankly that is more encouraging than anything else. You glance over at Dave and barely know what to say at this point. His girls have thought about this and they are fully on board.

“You would really want that, huh?” He had worked hard to make sure the girls know how much he loves them. Talking to them nearly every night when they are at Carol’s and making sure that he spends time with them. To hear that they would soundly approve of him marrying you is the biggest recommendation you could get.

"Duh." Alice looks at her father like he's crazy for not getting it. They've done all the work for him already. Even picked out the day. "And she's a better cook than you or Mom."

He can’t help but laugh at that, squeezing your hand and chuckling like it’s the funniest thing in the world. “Yes, she is.”

"The school calendar says we're on vacation the week of Valentine's Day." Pressing her point a little, Alice points at the fridge from her seat. "So we'll be here. Not with Mom."

“Oh really?” He hums and smiles, “you girls planned this like I used to plan missions.”

Molly and Alice blush wildly at what they consider to be the highest compliment. Anytime they get told they’re like their Daddy, they puff up with pride. “So you’re going to do it?” Alice prompts expectantly.

“That’s something that we need to talk about.” Dave explains quietly, not wanting to burst their bubbles, but also knowing that you might not want to marry him.

“Okay.” Molly looks between you expectantly. “Go ahead.”

Dave snorts at the way the girls respond and then looks over at you with raised eyebrows. “Um, you want to give me a hand here?” He asks you.

“It’s something that your Dad and I are going to have to have a lot of talks about.” You offer to the girls, not quite sure what else to say. You’re still feeling blindsided. “Not just one. But, I promise you both, we’ll have the first one right after dinner tonight.”

They look dismayed that you aren’t instantly agreeing to it. “It’s a big step.” Dave explains. “She would also have to move in, and she might not like the house.”

“But…you can fix the house? Can’t you?” Molly’s lip begins to wobble, trembling under the panicked idea that their perfect dream of extra parents for extra love might not work out as easily as they thought. “So she’ll stay?”

“Oh, honey.” Squeezing Dave’s hand gently, you let go to slip out of your chair and kneel down between the very upset girls. In you’re honest with yourself, you fell in love with these sisters just as fast as you did with their Dad, and the last thing you want is for them to cry. Do kids cry sometimes? Of course. But you don’t want them to cry over you. “I’m not going anywhere, girls. I’m really not. And I love you both so dearly, please don’t be sad. We—your Dad and I are just very surprised to see how much you’ve thought about this.”

“You aren’t mad are you?” Alice asks softly, her shoulders rounded and Dave is immediately shaking his head.

“No baby girl,” he pushes the chair back and comes to crowd around behind you. “Not at all. I’m proud of you two. You are amazing and thoughtful and so very wonderful to welcome her so quickly.” He promises. “The adults are just slower and we need to catch up.”

“And I’m very proud that you want to keep me around.” Which is very abundantly clear, based on the evidence. Each of the girls gets squeezing hugs from you and Dave before you go sit back down and you reach for his knee under the table, quietly reassuring him that this isn’t going to scare you off.

Dave sighs softly, glad that you understand, although he’s still trying to wrap his head around all this. “What else did you plan?”

The girls exchange a look, giggling in what is now a slightly ominous manner all things considered, and flip over the sheet of paper. “Names for our new baby sister,” Molly tells you with every shred of gleeful confidence she can muster in that tiny body of hers.

“Baby—baby sister….” Dave practically whispers the phrase, suddenly looking paler than normal. He had not been expecting that.

“Girls, I think you’re gonna need to give your Dad a lot of time to think about that one,” you tell them, seeing how frozen Dave is in his seat. “Why don’t I just hang onto this paper so we can look at it later?”

He had never honestly thought about more children. He has his girls and he loves them beyond measure. Now that his babies are telling him to have another….his eyes slide to you and he nods. “Yes, we will talk about it, okay?” He recovers and smiles at them. “But what if you have a baby brother?”

The girls have a silent consultation about this idea, apparently not having considered it before. It takes a few long seconds, but Alice finally sits up in her chair. “We’ll have to teach him not to be gross,” she declares.

“Not to be gross.” Dave nods seriously. “Noted.” He finds it funny they want to teach their little brother not to be gross when they were the ones who ate dirt and tried to eat from the cat box when they were little.

“But if you get to pick,” Molly adds, pointing her fork at her father like a scolding teacher. “Pick a girl.”

“Yes ma’am.” he laughs and shakes his head. “Any other surprises?”

They think about it for too long to be comfortable, but both girls finally shrug. “No. Not really. But we think you should go to Arendelle after you get married.” Apparently, the girls’ Frozen period is still going strong.

“Solid honeymoon choice.” Dave chuckles, grinning at you. “We could see if Hans has stayed away.”

“He is gross.” The girls decide unilaterally.

“He is gross.” Dave agrees. While he might have done a lot of things that the girls might have decided were gross, he had been faithful to their mother and he had never been an abuser. He never wanted that kind of example for his kids. Even the divorce was amicable because of them. They were what is important out of his and Carol’s time together.

******

When dinner is finished and cleared away, Dave sets the girls up with yet another viewing of Frozen in their pajamas in the living room and comes back into the kitchen. For your part, you’ve pulled the open bottle of wine out of the fridge and already poured two glasses.

Coming back into the kitchen, Dave is rubbing his hands on his thighs. “Sooooo.” He gives a small chuckle. “Hell of a dinner conversation, huh?”

“They put some thought into that.” You blow out a breath and hold out the wine glass to him that you haven’t already started drinking from.

“Yeah.” He winces slightly as he takes the glass and immediately tips it back for a big gulp. “They certainly did.”

"Well..." You top off both of your glasses and shrug "We promised them we would talk about it."

“Listen.” Dave knows that it might not have scared you off, but you also aren’t jumping at the chance. “I’m sorry they ambushed us.”

"Honey." Reaching for his hand once you've both slumped against the kitchen counter, you thread your fingers together and squeeze reassuringly. "I know they jumped the gun a tiny bit, but this is good. You were so worried about what they would think and..." You pull the paper that the girls did up out of your pocket and spread it out beside you with a dreamy smile. "What they think is so sweet and wonderful."

“They want us to get married on Valentine’s Day.” He chuckles slightly and looks at the paper again.

"Solid plan, honestly." You laugh along with him and lean into his side. "We'll never forget our anniversary."

“No, not at all.” He huffs, taking another sip of wine.

"Is it cheesy that I kind of like the ring?" The heart-shaped stone is charming, and the fact that the girls thought of it just touches you in a way that you can't explain.

“Pink or clear?” He teases softly, smiling at the thought of his daughters picking the perfect ring.

"Tease me all you want, but pink." It makes your smile spread wider, but you turn to look him in the eye all the same. "Please don't feel pressured. This is just me saying...I'm not going anywhere. And if this is the future you want? I'm fully open to it."

“So you are telling me that if I bought a heart shaped, pink diamond and proposed, you would say yes?” He asks, grinning but he is serious. “And would marry me on Valentine’s Day?”

"I'd call you silly for picking out a pink diamond when pink sapphires or pink tourmaline are much more cost effective." At this point you're smiling so broadly that it's threatening to take over your face, with warm cheeks and a bashful light in your eyes. "But...honestly? I think...I think I would say yes. We've only been together a few months, but you know I love you."

He’s heard those words before; he’s said them to you so it’s not a surprise. It still warms him, and he sets the glass of wine down and steps closers to you. “What if I wanted to get you a pink diamond?” He asks. “You’re worth it.”

"I'd wonder what the hell kind of government job you were doing that you can afford fancy diamonds." It's just teasing, but the truth is that you're both adults and the trust that you have in each other matters almost as much as anything else.

“One that paid well in the private sector.” Dave admits. He hasn’t gone too in depth with what he had done before moving back, but he could afford the engagement ring you would want.

"Is this something you actually want?" That's key. If it's just pressure from his daughters making him entertain the thought then you don't want to say another word about it.

“I was going to take it a little slower than warp speed.” He snorts. “But honestly, sweetheart…” he takes ahold of your waist. “Why do you think I’ve been asking your opinion on everything I’ve been doing to this old lady?” He asks, gesturing to the house with his other hand.

"I kinda hoped," you admit, letting him reel you in to be held against his chest. "But I was afraid you would think I was trying to trap you or something if I said anything about it."

“You trap me alright.” He chuckles, grinning wickedly at you. “Every time you wrap those legs around me.” He leans in and huffs. “Like the other night in the pool.”

"I can't believe they saw us." A quiet, disbelieving groan escapes you and you shake your head, laughing in your own dismay. "Thank god that's all they saw."

“You’re telling me.” He grumbles. “Alice has had the period talk, but I’m not quite ready for that conversation just yet.”

"Absolutely not." Having to have that conversation is not very far up on the list of fun things for you either, even though you adore the girls. "There's a reason I teach high school. They already know about sex and I don't have to have any awkward conversation explaining it."

He laughs and leans in to press his lips to yours in a tender kiss. “So what do you say?” He asks softly. “Wanna make the girls dreams come true?” He poses. “And mine?”

A bubbly giggle of disbelief erupts out of you right there in the middle of the kitchen, and you stare at him for a second in utter shock before the world's dopiest grin overtakes your expression. "Absolutely."

Dave hums and has his own sort of giddy giggle. “Then we need to start planning.” He jokes. “Valentine’s Day isn’t too far away.”

"What do you mean start?" Never taking your eyes off him for a second, you reach over and pick up the sheet of paper the girls gave you and waggle it in front of him. "The whole plan is right here."

Laughing, he kisses you again. “You want to go with their plan?”

"I think some of it has merit." Right about now you're ready to drown in his kisses, and you steal two more before considering the girls' crayon drawings. "Pink roses are nice for flowers. A gazebo in the backyard is a huge project so we can rent an arch or something instead. Oh, and I definitely think Arendelle is off the table. I'd rather wear a bikini on our honeymoon than a snowsuit."

“I’d rather you be naked.” Dave huffs. “What about a nudist resort?”

“Rent a private cabin on some exotic beach somewhere?” You hum at the thought, enjoying the idea of Dave naked and all to yourself as much as he likes the thought of you that way. “It would be a hell of a nice vacation in the middle of February.”

“Yes it would.” He can agree to that and throws you a wolffish grin. “Warm and hot, sun kissed and well fucked.” He chuckles. “We would never want to come back.”

“You’re liking this idea a lot.” His expression has darkened in a very familiar way and your grin turns salacious. “So am I.”

“Then it sounds like the girls might just get their wish.” Dave muses. “What do you say, baby?”

With your arms around his neck, you pull Dave closer and press your lips against his, sinking into an endless, warm kiss of promises and comfort. For all the darkness this man has assured you that his world has contained, he has lightened your life in immeasurable ways and you are enthusiastically joyous at the prospect of spending the rest of your life with him. "I say let's get this place fixed up so I can move in," you tease, kissing him again.

******

“Babe!” Dave calls up the stairs. “I’m going out to make sure the archway is secure and turn on the heaters in the tents!”

“Okay!” Being upstairs in your bedroom to get ready for the ceremony, you’re grateful for the millionth time in this process that your sister is such a remarkable stylist. You look and feel like a movie star, and the girls look perfect in their matching dresses. “Will you see if the florist is here yet? They’re late!” You call back.

“Sure thing!” Dave tosses back over his shoulder, knowing that despite it being a smaller wedding, you wanted everything to be perfect. Almost exactly as your girls, as you’ve started calling them, have envisioned.

The food trucks you and Dave picked out for 'catering' are hard at work preparing food for your soon-to-arrive guests and the florist is finally here, pulling their truck up to the house with a hurried but pleased expression on her face. “Everything’s perfect,” she promises Dave with confidence. “I just wanted to do a little extra for your bride and I think she’s going to love it.”

“Really?” Dave knows that you have been anxious about the flowers, working with the florist closely to make sure you get exactly what you want. “I’m sure she will love it.”

"I'll head upstairs with the special pieces for the wedding party and then get the decor set up. Don't worry about a thing." From the large stack in her hands, she hums for a second before selecting a particular package and handing it over. "Your boutonniere. Unless you'd like me to leave it for you somewhere else?"

“No, I will take it.” He holds the box gently. “Does it need to be refrigerated?”

Checking her watch, the florist smiles. “At this point? Might as well go ahead and put it on. See you soon, Mr. York, time to hustle!”

He smiles as the energetic florist zips away and opens the box to admire the boutonnière before he carefully pins it to the lapel of his tuxedo. Once satisfied that it’s straight, he starts to light the heaters to warm up the tented space.

February in Texas isn't too cold compared to other places and the sun is shining, but after the sun sets and the party really kicks off, everyone will appreciate the extra warmth. For now, things are all falling into place in the carefully planted and well-maintained backyard of the home you have shared with Dave since the end of last summer.

Dave checks everything, his previous life making him critical to small details and everything is on schedule. He doesn’t have a best man, preferring to have the girls stand by him once they have fulfilled their duties as flower girl and ring bearer.

You had teased him that it was his lot in life to be surrounded by beautiful women, and you really weren’t kidding about it. It will be you and him up there with the Justice of the Peace, surrounded by your sister and the girls. Carol had delivered them at the beginning of the week with congratulations and best wishes for both of you, and a small wedding present that she’d insisted you save for your honeymoon. Everything about today has been…well…surprisingly easy. The hardest thing might have been agreeing on your cake flavor and even that has turned out perfect.

Dave double checks with the food trucks, thanking them for coming out and then he meets the Justice of the Peace, greeting him eagerly.

Footsteps on the stairs that clearly don’t belong to Dave aren’t concerning to you today of all days, but it’s Alice who peaks her head out of the door and gasps with delight. “Flowers are here!” She squeaks, and both girls throw open the door to the master bedroom to let the florist inside with happy cheering. They have been so happy since their arrival, cooing and exclaiming over all the arrangements you have put together, bringing their vision from nearly a year ago to life.

"How are you feeling, girlies?" The very last thing to do is put on your dress, which you have already had on and off once today because you had a nightmare that it didn't fit and you needed to make sure first thing this morning that everything was okay. Now that hair and makeup is done, your sister and the girls are dressed, and the flowers are here? It's time to put on the dress and get married.

“Excited.” Alice answers as Molly rushes over to give you a hug as you stand in the satin ‘Bride’ robe that their mother had given you. The little special detail of yours and Dave’s initials on the left pocket had been her way of showing you that she was happy for Dave and was completely accepting of you as the girls’ stepmother.

“You ready to dance with your Dad?” You hug Molly back, as tight as can be without crushing her fluffy dress, and beam at them both. Your girls. You wonderful, sweet, enthusiastic girls.

"I've been practicing." She nods, nearly bobbling her head off for how excited she is. There's only been one father/daughter dance so far at the school and she had been thrilled to have him twirl her around the floor with all the other pairings. This time, it's just going to be her and Daddy, everyone watching. It makes her feel like she's a princess.

“Perfect.” There is another hug for Molly and you scoop Alice up into your arms along with her to give both girls a squeeze. “Time for me to get dressed, I think.”

"Can we help?" Alice is obsessed with the dress you have chosen, declaring it the prettiest dress in the world and she bites her lip. "We washed our hands and we will be very careful."

“I’ll slip into it and you can help zip me up. How does that sound?” A quick glance up at your sister gets you a thumbs up from her as her promise to make sure nothing goes wrong. The back of your dress is very delicate but just zipping it up shouldn’t be able to cause any harm.

"Yesssss." Her brows pull together as she watches you carefully, looking all for the world like her father with that face.

“Okay. One second, you two.” Disappearing into the walk-in closet that Dave made sure was big enough for both your wardrobes when he was working on the house, you step into your wedding dress carefully and make sure the pale blue lingerie you chose for the day — your something blue — is hidden so you don’t have to have that conversation with your almost stepdaughters.

“We’ve already seen her dress.” Molly whispers really loudly. “Is she shy changing? Like Allison?”

“I think she just wants a second to breathe, sweetheart,” your sister assures her easily. Her own kids are about the same age as their new cousins and she has taken to Molly and Alice easily. “A wedding is a very big day from the bride and she just wants everything to be perfect.”

“Everything will be perfect.” Molly promises. “She’s marrying my Daddy and he’s perfect.”

Your sister laughs, charmed by Molly’s absolute faith and confidence, and puts her hand up to give Molly a high five — currently one of your younger stepdaughter’s favorite gestures. “You’re absolutely right, kiddo. Without a doubt.”

She manages to keep the girls entertained until you step out from the walk-in and both girls gasp in delight at the vision you present them in, wearing your wedding grown.

It’s not full length so that it won’t drag all over the backyard, but the tea-length gown has a tulle skirt just like they imagined and flowers in the pattern of the sheer back. It’s stunning, and if it’s possible to feel more like a princess than these two girls, then it’s definitely the way you feel right now. “Okay guys,” you hum, sitting down in the chair by your vanity where you had been getting your hair and makeup done. “Be gentle with the zipper. It’s time to go.”

“Careful Molly!” Alice hisses when the younger girl’s hands are rushed to reach the zipper first. “‘Member, Daddy said slow and steady hands move mountains.”

“And he’s very right.” Thank god for Alice, you think with an internal sigh. “He’ll be very proud to know you listen to him so well.”

“Daddy gives good advice.” Alice has had a few more grown-up talks with Dave lately and has been pretty proud of that fact. “He’s going to teach me some moves to beat up someone who wants to hurt me.”

"Those are good skills to have as long as you use them wisely." Once the girls have you zipped up, your sister hands you your flowers, gives you a kiss on the cheek, and disappears to make sure that everything is ready for you to come downstairs.

“Daddy said we would have a serious talk about when to use them.” She agrees, stepping back and sighing softly. “You look so beautiful.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Both girls are beaming at you, and you scoop them up in your arms again for one more hug. “You both look like fairies, and I love you so much.”

“Are you ready to become our second Mommy?” Molly asks, her eyes wide and hopeful.

"Oh, honey." Her little cherub face is shining up at you and you very nearly tear up, grateful for the invention of waterproof makeup already today. "I've been ready for that since the day you girls sat us down at dinner."

“Yay!” She grins and rushes over to pick up the pillow that the rings have been carefully tied into. “Let’s get married!”

******

"I owe my sister twenty bucks," you laugh to Dave after the ceremony. After the marriage license has been signed and the pictures have begun. After you're officially husband and wife. "She knew I would start crying the second I started walking down the aisle. I thought I could at least hold out until we started our vows."

“I had something in my eye.” Dave teases, pulling you close and kissing you again. The brilliant pink heart shaped diamond on your hand now also sports a white diamond halo band beside it. Completing the set. He’s married again, and this time, he won’t make the same mistakes he did last time.

"You're just a softy." It really seems like you'll never, never get enough of kissing him, but today there doesn't have to be enough. You can kiss your brand new husband all you want. "I bet you started the second you saw the girls."

“Backyard is dusty.” He insists, although the video of the day will clearly show that the air is clear and Dave’s eyes are misty with pride.

"Boy, it's a good thing we're not doing anything important back here today," you tease, putting both arms around his waist to shine a beaming grin at him while the photographer takes a few shots of the girls with his parents and then with your sister.

“Nothing at all.” He chuckles, looking down at you softly. “Was it everything that the girls wished for?” He teases softly.

"I think it's even better than they dreamed." And none of you – not you or Dave or the girls – can stop smiling about it. "They didn't have the idea to hire our favorite food trucks and I think that might be their favorite part."

“Unlimited varieties of their favorite foods. What’s not to love?” Dave has to admit the food trucks were a stroke of genius and it has been a hit with the guests, even if it wasn’t a large gathering.

"Barbecue and tacos was a great idea, but I take my hat off to you for bringing in the cupcake truck to do coffee and dessert." Dave's stroke of genius was met with wonder from the girls, who thought the idea of having multiple cupcakes on offer to your guests instead of just a slice of cake was the best thing they had ever heard. The owners even made a little sweetheart cake for you and Dave to cut later on.

“What can I say?” He smirks. “I like sweet things.” He teases, leering at you gently.

"Good thing you married me, then," you toss back, giving him a wink.

“Don’t I know it?” He leans in to kiss you again. “My parents have agreed to take the girls tonight.” He murmurs softly. “And we will drop them off with their mother on our way to the honeymoon in four days.”

"Do I finally get to know where we're going?" He had insisted on taking care of the entire thing, saying that you had enough headaches in wedding planning and the least he could do was take that large item off of your plate. From there, it had become a teasing joke that he should just surprise you with the destination. Very quickly, that joke had become his absolute resolve.

“Nope.” He snickers at your pouting lips and kisses you again. “I’ve packed your bags and your passport is with mine.”

"You know I'm going to go through my side of the closet tomorrow to see what's missing." Not tonight. Tonight you're going to focus on him and him alone. But tomorrow? Tomorrow all your Nancy Drew instincts are going to kick in.

He laughs, the sound dangerous and wicked, like a villain in a movie. “Oh, I’ve already thought of that. Good luck figuring out which sets of clothes we are really taking.”

"You're evil!" Perhaps, but you're both cackling with laughter when the photographer calls you over to join the girls in the photos.

“I know.” He snorts, aware that his mind works in astonishingly morally ambiguous ways, but he has tried to ease up on that. Now it’s just a fun game to thwart you from spoiling your surprise.

"Daddy!" Both girls pull him into the center of the biggest hug their little arms can manage as soon as he steps closer, and his parents laugh quietly from the sidelines.

“Hey babies.” He coos, careful not to muss their dresses because they have been so careful in keeping themselves clean.

"Grampy and Granny said we can stay with them as long as we want tomorrow." Molly tells him eagerly, not understanding the adult logic behind that invitation at all, but excited for the promise of their Granny's homemade macaroni and cheese for dinner.

“They did?” He acts surprised but he is grateful his parents want to allow you and Dave to have a wedding night before the rest of the vacation is spent together. He wants a romantic night with his new wife.

"Do you think we could stay an extra night?" Alice asks, turning her already wide eyes even more doleful. Her Daddy has never been able to resist that pleading expression before, and she hopes he won't be able to now.

Dave glances up at you to see what you think. “Don’t you think we need to ask your new Mom?” He asks. There had been a very frank conversation with Carol and all the adult agreed to accept whatever the girls wanted to call you.

"Please Mom??" Both girls chorus, turning their weaponized cuteness on you full force.

How could you possibly resist, when it's exactly the second-ever time they've called you Mom? The first was when Dave brought them inside from Carol's drop off, and they had sprinted in the kitchen after being told you were making a mountain of grilled cheeses and a big pot of tomato soup for dinner. They had screamed for Mom and practically jumped into your arms and it had taken everything in you not to cry from joy right then and there. Now, the joy is a little different. It's gratitude for Dave's parents, and how helpful they have been in making arrangements and making sure the girls are taken care of. "I suppose that's okay," you sigh dramatically. "Since Grampy and Granny offered, and that's very nice of them to do."

The chorus of ’Yay!s’ ring loud and Dave manages to only wince slightly. “Thank you!” There’s another bone crushing hug from both of them before they are scurrying off to their grandparents with the good news.

"Two wedding nights?" You murmur to Dave with a soft grin as the photographer starts to click away after setting you in the pose he wants. "That's very sweet of your parents."

“Only one.” Dave corrects with grin. “If we never get out of bed for the day, it’s just simply one long night.”

"We'll have to get up to eat and drink." The photographer clicks away and you take his instruction to turn into Dave's side easily. "Unless you have water and snacks stashed in your nightstand already." Which, actually? You wouldn't put past him.

“Uber Eats is already set up.” Dave grins. “My parents might have mentioned keeping them an extra night.”

"David." You hum his name playfully, feigning shock. "Honestly I don't know why I'm surprised. You're always on top of everything and I'm so grateful for it."

“I just want us to have a wonderful two days.” Dave hums, pleased with your reaction to his plans. “Start the marriage off right.”

"I have no doubts." In under a year you have managed to build a relationship of trust, mutual respect, and deep love that you have never come anywhere close to with the partners you have before him. Dave has told you his entire story, promising you that secrets would never be a factor in your marriage unless they were fun surprises or in confidence of any of your children. He isn't going to make the same mistakes with you that he did with Carol, and you aren't going to keep that part of yourself in reserve the way you have with other partners. You are in this one hundred and ten percent, and so is Dave.

Dave smiles at you softly and leans in to press his lips to yours. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my beautiful wife.”

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Dave York #Dave York x reader #Dave York x you #Dave York x female reader #divorced Dave #single dad Dave #Suburban Murder Daddy

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evilminji · 1 day ago

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Weird/Unusual Crossover time?

Weird/unusual crossover time! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ (oh shit~! She's back on her billshit!) (That's RIGHT! Nothing is sacred and NO ONE IS SAFE!)

ANYWAYS~

Danny Phantom. Cultivation Novels (my current obsession). A match made in hell? Or an exciting new adventure‽ Cause like... the Zone DOES go EVERYWHERE, right? Infinite means Infinite means "Literally Without End" Infinite.

As in, Forever.

You COULD, in fact, pick a direction and just... keep going. Forever. For always. Without end or limits. The Zone is not just "really, REALLY big and we need a word your mind could comprehend." Not "as big as a galaxy or the known universe". It is? On a scale that even GODS can not comprehend.

The place GODS go to die. A place they are BORN from. The great primordial soup where universe end and begin anew. Where the cracks are glued backed together, and the souls of the living flow in and out. Endless scraps of fabric, realities, atop a churning sea of green. Keeping everything even.

After all... you can't CREATE a soul. They got to come from SOMEWHERE. Where do you THINK they arrive from? When populations grow? Thin air‽

But... ah~, there in lays the rub, doesn't it? Would knowing the Zone? Knowing SOME of it's mysteries and machinations (for NO ONE, not even all the Ancients COMBINED, can ever claim to understand even a fraction of them all.) mean that Danny??? Was powerful in a Cultivation reality?

He's certainly a powerful GHOST.

But?? They FIGHT ghosts all the time. Wouldn't he be WEAKER and more in danger? As they try to hell the restless spirit move on? Not knowing he is balanced between life and death? They could very well kill him.

Which, given the moral standards of the Realm? Would NOT be viewed as a bad thing.

But! On the OTHER hand?

He is a ZONE ghost. Not a simple spirit. Far beyond what they are used to dealing with. Arguably? ASCENDANT. From a higher plane of existence. A lower one. Several steps to the side. He is, for all intents and purposes, shrimp colors to the human eye. The color blue to a blind man. An orb to the two dimensional.

CAN he even interact with the world's cultivation systems? Does it recognize him as a god? A dead man? Some sort of ascendant dead god?

Something... Not Right™

Yet still utterly natural? Clearly not meant to be here. Yet... not wicked. Granted, not, perhaps, benevolent. But...

Because what IS he? Is he a boy? A man? A corpse? Immortal, perhaps? Is this creature a demon? The resentful dead? They DONT KNOW! It... probably scares a lot of them. Makes some of them think he is a test. Probably makes OTHERS wanna fight (friend? Hey! New friend!).

And like? Why would Danny even BE there? He's already immortal. The swords are pretty cool... but he has Fenton tech.

So, WHY?

I propose?

His well know Anger Issues. His fear of becoming Dan. He's heard meditation is good for shit like that, right? Mindfulness and stuff. Sam recommended it. And? They were watching Fantasy Kung-fu 17, "bamboo monks of vengeance" (now with more slow motion aerial battles). So he was like? Hmmmm... those misty valleys and mountains shots DO looks relaxing... I could go camping...

Maybe find a mysterious old kung-fu monk? Is that what they are? Tucker. Tucker! What's the name of this genre again? Xanxia. Yeah. That! I'll do the whole "live, laugh, love. Hot girl, cultivation summer" thing! That'll fix my shit! This is a GREAT idea!

Thus? Danny. Terrorizing some poor Xanxia Cultivation world with his Zone Ghostiness. Pretending to be a human... very, VERY badly. Yes, hello Fellow Locals! It is him! Average Human Man! Take me to your *checks notes* Cultivation Sect! *smiles with far too many teeth*

#nailedit he's gonna get SUCH a good job at blending in! A thing that is both real and possible to achieve!

@babbling-babull @legitimatesatanspawn @mayfay @hdgnj @spidori @the-witchhunter @leftnotright @lolottes

#minji's writing #dpxcultivation #dpxXianxia #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp #dpxsvsss #danny is a little shit #danny is ALSO an invasive species #stop terrorizing the locals danny #cant you be chill for like FIVE SECONDS #no no of course not #hes a Fenton

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shuadotcom · 3 hours ago

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HEY SO I'M???????? PASSING AWAY RIGHT NOW AS I TYPE

idk if i ever said this but i fucking love alien aus actually!!!!!!!!!!! it's because i also like aliens (they're one of my mild special interests shall we say) so i will always read an alien au!!!!

Anyway lemme log my real time crash out under the cut!!!!

y/n is so me fr. getting to know my neighbors is also not my priority so felt girl. also her day to day literally me im!!!

y/n: making dinner and listening to scary podcasts

me last night: making spaghetti for dinner and listening to a scary podcast 🧍🏽‍♀️ (also the fact that she's listening to a podcast about appalachia when i literally have a new episode of old gods of appalachia to listen to?? BOOKI ARE YOU IN MY WALLS????)

cackling at just, "cat" because same girl i too panic and just be saying shit lol

the way my brain tried to be like the math lady when you mentioned the bartender like "okay who looks good as a bartender" and i immediately thought of chan from the dream mv and even though you didn't describe him that's all i thought WOOF

idk what kinda intergalactic drink she got from not!dino the bartender but it sounds good and i love an alcyhol that tastes like juice!

i can’t lie the description of joshua's eyes?!?!?!!??!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🫦🫦🫦

y/n is better than me i’m sorry but alien shua on me at the club????? yeah sorry it’s over for me take me back to your spaceship or something i would not be leaving without him idc

also i can’t lie i thought for sure he knew the bartender and had them give her like some sexy alien drink lol

driving into the office

every time he says “hey neighbor” i want to bite my laptop

DAMN WHEN WILL ONE OF MY AUNTS MAKE ME A WHOLE ASS HOMEOWNER 😩 now THAT is a want a need

hES GARDENING?!?!?!? IM SCREAMING THAT IS SUCH A JOSHUA HOBBY. AND HIM IN HIS GRASS STAINED JEANS WITH GARDENING GLOVES??!??!? THAT'S SO DOMESTIC OF HIM ILL CRY

“The point is that your neighbor is a porn star from another planet.” i love this sentence actually

also obsessed with the alien cam website!!!!

“your neighbor’s face came into view, from the nose up. He was very close to the screen but you could tell he was smiling just from the way his eyes turned into crescents.” CRYING BC I CAN SEE THIS SO EASILY AND I KNOW HES ABOUT TO PULL OUT HIS DICK BUT HES SO CUTE MY BABY!!!!

GRAY SWEATPANTS?!?!?!?!!?!???!?!?!!? BOOKI ARE YOU INSANE??????? WE JUST STARTED AND THAT ALONE HAS ME FOAMING AT THE MOUTH I TOO WOULD BE IN HIS CHAT WILDIN OUT

IM FUCKING SCREAMING AT Y/N'S CHAT NAME. WHEN I SAID HELLO NEIGHBOR DID SOMETHING TO ME I DIDNT KNOW WE WERE GOING HERE WITH IT 🫠-

"Do you want to taste it, neighbor? You wanna come over and see what my cock tastes like?”

“Want me to come over and fuck that cute, tight little human cunt?”

“Just let me in and eat you out already,” he said with a smirk.

PINK CUM IS CRAZY FUCKING????? THAT COMPARED WITH THE DESCRIPTION OF HIS ALIEN DICK IS DOING THINGS TO MY LIFE SPAN

ALSO JUST THE WHOLE CAM SCENE LIKE I LITERALLY COULDVE BLASTED OFF JUST FROM THAT ACTUALLYBAAAAHHHHHHH

I KNEW HE WAS LEAVING TO COME OVER OH FUCK

CHERIES?!?!!? CHERRIES?!?!?!!?!?!?! THE SFEWORD BEING CHERRIES I ALMOST SHUT THIS FUCKING COMUTER BOOKI

“Tell me what you like,” he continued, his hand sliding down the side of your neck, watching how you reacted, head tilting back slightly. His fingers wrapped around your neck and you let out a moan as he squeezed gently. “Choking, got it,” he said, his voice slightly amused. DJHKFBCVEFRCV FR VNWLVCNADFJBHLV FDJACkdjnfvkewrngvKSDNFKEGEWGVWrdfgdnjfdcv

DOMINATE ME YES THATS WHAT IM SAYING GIRL ME NEXT!!!!

flavored spit is actually doing my head in right now i want you to know that

HIS TONGUE??????!!!!!!!!!!!!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!? JESUS CHRST

“You wanna taste it?” sTOP SAYING THIS I AM UNWELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HIS P I N K FUKING CUM IS AN APHRODISIAC,!?$?!?!!!!!!!!!!

He leaned over, his fingers wrapping around your throat. “You still want this?” he asked, to which you nodded. “Then do exactly what I tell you,”

“Have I already fucked you dumb, sweetheart?”“So pathetic and dumb just from a little bit of alien cock? What a good human slut. Are you gonna be good for me?” he asked, fingers tightening around your neck. YOU DONT UNDERSTAND THERE ARE ACTUAL TEARS IN MY EYES IM GOING TO PASS OUT WHATHE FUCK IS HIS PROBLEM!>?!!?!!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!??!?!!?!?!?!!?!?

HE HAS A FUCKING. KNOT????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OHMY FUCK ME NEXT ME NEXT I WANT TO BE LOCKED TOGETHER WITH ALIEN PORNSTAR JOSHUA FOREVER

BOOKI WHAT THE FUCK THIS WAS SO GOOD THANK YOU SO MUCH IM GOING TO READ THIS 5000200000 MILLION MORE TIMES ITS SO GOOD IM OBSESSED WITH HIM ABSOLUTELY WHIPPED FOR ALIEN PORN STAR SHUA ACTUALLY AND WILL THINKBOUT HIM FOREVER IM SO CRAZY YTHANKYOU I LVOEYOU YOU BROKE ME

HELP! My Neighbor is an Alien a Porn Star — h.joshua

Neighbors come and go and for Y/N, this is inevitable. Which is why she never bothered to get to know her neighbors. She owns her townhouse while the two on either side of her are rentals. When a new neighbor moves in, she doesn’t think much of it until she sees the extremely attractive and single man moving in next door. She learns his name is Joshua and that there’s more than meets the eye; a whole lot more. alien!Joshua × fem!Reader

» back || m.list || taglist « ❑ WORDCOUNT 13k (i'm not sorry anymore lol) ❑ WARNINGS — adult dialogue, female reader, sex work, mentions of: food & alcohol consumption, aliens, porn, cam work; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! ❑ CONTENT — fluff (in the form of comedy), smut (hella); sex work, porn industry, neighbors to lovers; non idol au, alien au, porn star au ❑ NOTES — this is my submission for @ddeonghwa-s cupid event. Hello, hello @shuadotcom it is I! Your cupid! This was so much fun to write and the premise was so fun to come up with! I hope you like your alien!Joshua! I love this concept so much and I could definitely be convinced to return to this in the future. This is not proofread because I didn’t have time 😭thank you all for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

❑ SMUT WARNINGS: voyeurism, watching porn/cam show, masturbation (male receiving), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (do not do. especially with an alien), sex with an alien (lol), joshua has an alien cock (which is described in full detail so enjoy that image), use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), mild degradation, praise (f receiving), joshua’s precum is an aphrodisiac (pretty cool tbh. aliens are fun to write) so there’s that and also cum eating??, choking (f receiving), and I think that’s all of them lol but of course, let me know if I missed anything!

One of the things that came with living in the suburbs was neighbors but for you, getting to know them was never a priority. Owning your townhome meant you were a constant in the neighborhood while your neighbors were not. The townhomes on either side of you were rental properties with a plethora of families coming and going depending on how long the lease was.

Despite not taking the time to get to know them, you still made a conscious effort to be a good neighbor, never causing problems or resolving any that popped up. Most of the neighbors you had were families with young children or young couples still in the first few years of marriage. There were the occasional single professionals that moved in but they were far and few between.

So when you woke up one morning and headed down to make a cup of coffee before clocking into your work from home job, the sight of the box truck parked outside the house wasn’t a surprise. You walked over to the large bay window, spreading the slats of the blinds to peer outside.

The box truck must have pulled up while you were still upstairs as the back was now open and workers were moving briskly to unload items from the back. As you watched, you wondered who your new neighbor was going to be. Would it be another family like the last ones? Or maybe a couple of young professionals.

Letting the slats fall back in place, you turned from the window to go about your day, heading into your downstairs office off the main entry and shutting the doors to close off the rest of the home from your working space. You took a seat at the desk, setting your coffee on its designated coaster and powered up your dual screen pc. While it booted up, you sipped on your coffee, eyes occasionally drifting to the window where you could still see some of the movers unloading boxes and furniture.

The jingle of your computer home screen loading drew your attention back to the task at hand: work.

The rest of your morning consisted of checking emails, starting on reports and reviewing itineraries. It wasn’t a glamorous job but it afforded you a comfortable living and to pay your bills while also adding to your savings and being able to spend money on your hobbies.

When it was lunch time, you broke away from your screen and picked up your phone, scrolling through the various delivery options before deciding on something that sounded good and was relatively close. You placed your order and decided to leave your office and check to see if the mail had arrived.

Upon opening the door, you could see that the box truck was still parked but that the movers seemed to be finishing up. Walking down the steps from your porch, you glanced over to the townhouse that had sat vacant until today. Amongst the movers who wore khaki uniforms of short sleeve button downs and black pants, was a man who was dressed entirely different.

You opened your gate, stepping out to the cluster of mailboxes you found the mail had indeed come. You quickly opened yours with your key, pulling out the various envelopes, sneaking glances at your new neighbor as he spoke to who you could only assume was the boss of the movers. He had black hair, pushed back off his forehead.

He wore a simple white tee shirt, light wash jeans, and a pair of sneakers. He looked relatively ordinary. As you shut your mailbox door, you moved back to your gate, opening it. At the sound of the gate latch, the man looked in your direction. You quickly averted your eyes and made your way back to your steps.

You chanced a glance at the man, finding his attention was back on the moving company boss. You returned to the safety and privacy of your home, mail clutched against your chest as you shut your door. You shook yourself and headed into your office, grumbling about looking and feeling like an idiot.

It wasn’t like you weren’t supposed to be there. This was your neighborhood, too. You were perfectly within your rights to collect your mail and it was only natural that you would be curious about the new neighbor moving in. So why did you feel so strange?

You didn’t have much time to dwell on it as the sound of your doorbell made you jump, the letter in your hands you were about to open flying through the air and landing on your desk. You mentally scolded yourself for being so jumpy and got up, moving to the front door where you peered through the glass, shifting the small curtain to find the delivery driver with your food.

You opened the door, collecting your lunch with a ‘thanks’ and a generous tip before retreating once more into your home and carrying the takeout to your kitchen.

After lunch, you returned to your office, sorting through your mail before clocking back in for the rest of your shift. As the day wound down, you finalized your reports and submitted them before checking in for an end of the day meeting. It wasn’t a long meeting, fortunately, and you mostly just had to listen, occasionally giving your input before you were finally released and allowed to clock out.

After powering down your computer for the day, you left the office, heading into the kitchen to get started on making dinner. It was a mostly quiet affair, listening to one of your favorite scary story podcasts while you cooked a simple meal.

Once finished, you sat down to eat, continuing your podcast and listening to the narrator tell stories about the horrors of backpacking through Appalachia, something you would never do solely because of the stories you’d heard. Not that being outdoors was really much of your thing. You were more of an inside cat.

After eating and cleaning up, you made sure the downstairs was locked up and headed up to your bedroom, drawing yourself a nice, relaxing bath with the rest of your open bottle of wine. The bath was less about getting clean and more about relaxing as it was thankfully the weekend and you were now allowed to hide away in your home for two days before returning to the office on Monday morning.

As you soaked in the tub, you thought about your new neighbor. Was he the only one living in that big house? Did he have a family? A partner? Children? Answers that you would definitely not learn tonight but surely you would meet him in passing at some point. Perhaps you would find out then.

Then again, you never really made much of a conscious effort before to get to know your neighbors on more than a surface level, sharing names and basic information like job titles and pleasantries. You’d never invited a neighbor over for dinner nor had been invited over. You preferred it that way.

You had friends, you weren’t looking for any more.

The next day, you slept in, enjoying the warmth of your nest of pillows and cocoon of blankets for as long as you could before your subconscious nagged at you to finally get up and start the day. On a normal day, you would be up by 6 am, making breakfast or taking a shower before you had to clock into work at 8 am. Today however, you slept in until 9 before guilt wracked you for wasting the morning.

You went about your day, making a simple breakfast of eggs, sausage, and some sauteed vegetables. You downed your breakfast with some coffee before deciding today you would get your shopping done. Every weekend, you stocked up on groceries that were running low. After getting ready and donning more appropriate clothing, you ventured into your garage, located on the backside of your townhouse and got into your car.

The drive to the nearest market wasn’t long and you enjoyed the mostly empty streets and mild weather by singing and dancing along to your playlist. Drumming your fingers against the steering wheel to the beat and bobbing your head, you pulled into the parking lot of the market, pulling into a space and putting your car into park before shutting off the engine.

As you got out, you grabbed your bag of reusable totes from the trunk of your car and headed for the door, grabbing a cart and pulling out your list, kept conveniently on your phone. Walking up and down the aisles, you grabbed the items from your list, marking them off as you set them down in the basket.

As you rounded up your shopping, your phone started to vibrate in your hands and you checked the screen, seeing the face of your best friend along with her contact name. A smile crept over your face as you slid the bar across the bottom of the screen to answer, holding the device up to your ear.

“Hi Jiji,” you said softly. “Y/N! Where are you? I’m at your house and —” You let out a sigh as you maneuvered your cart, one-handed, through the store towards the check out area. “Jiji,” you said, trying to hide your exasperation. “I’m at the store. You know you’re supposed to tell me when you’re coming over before you get there, right?” you asked as you got into the queue to wait for an available terminal.

“I know,” your best friend started. “I was in the neighborhood and —”

Your brows furrowed at your best friend’s obvious lie. “You’re never just in the neighborhood, Youngji,” you countered. “Don’t pull that with me.” You heard her click her tongue impatiently. “Okay, you’re right but that’s not why I’m calling. When were you going to tell me you got a new neighbor?” You rolled your eyes as you neared the start of the queue.

“When I saw you tonight,” you answered. “Like a normal person would.” There was silence on the other end. “Oh… well, when will you be home?” she asked, sounding like a bored child. “I’m in line to check out,” you explained. “I have another errand to run and then I’ll be home.” You heard Youngji whine on the other side of the line. “Just let yourself in,” you said with a chuckle. “You know where the spare key is.”

You heard Youngji fumble with something. “Oh you’re right. Let me make sure no one is watching,” she murmured before you heard movement. “Got it!” she said triumphantly. You could hear the sound of her putting the key into the lock and the click of the latch as it unlocked. The sound of the door opening and shutting came over the line before you heard her turn the lock.

“I’m in,” she said in a whisper. “I’m gonna raid your fridge,” she added. You snorted as one of the checkout terminals opened up and you pushed your cart towards it. “It’s empty, so good luck,” you said as you started to unload your times. “I’m checking out now,” you announced as you heard the fridge open. “Boo, you suck,” Youngji whined. “Goodbye,” you continued and hung up, pocketing your phone.

As you continued to scan your items, you glanced up, eyes landing on the person at the self checkout machine across from yours. It was him. Your new neighbor. He glanced up, meeting your eyes. Your cheeks burned at being caught and you quickly offered a polite smile before returning your attention back to scanning and bagging your items.

You could feel his eyes on you and when you glanced back up, you saw them still looking at you as he scanned his own items, bagging them without looking. Seeing him this close, you could see that his eyes were a striking ombre of yellow and green and it caused your breath to catch in your throat. Either he had some really kick ass contact lenses, or he wasn’t human.

Upon meeting your gaze, he offered a mischievous smile, one where you could see that his teeth were slightly off, and definitely not human. The canines were too sharp and a little too long. You lowered your eyes and finished scanning your items, placing them into the reusable bags.

You quickly pulled out your loyalty card, scanning it and hoping for some deals before you started to finish up your transaction. Following the on screen prompts, you pressed the buttons for payment and card before holding your card over the reader until it beeped. Once your receipt printed out, you put your bags into your cart and pushed it away from the check out, not sparing another glance back.

Out in the parking lot, you returned to your vehicle, popping the trunk and placing your bags into the back before shutting the lid and pushing your cart into the cart return area. As you turned, you nearly ran into a cart pushed by none other than your new neighbor who had the same mischievous smirk on his face. “Pardon me,” he said, his voice lower and more honeyed than you were expecting. It simultaneously sent chills up your spine but also sent a wave of calm over you.

He was definitely not human.

“Apologies,” he added as you stepped aside, allowing him to push his cart into the slot behind yours. “D-don’t worry about it,” you stammered as he turned to look at you, those same piercing eyes looking back at you. “I should be going,” you added, taking a step backwards. “You’re my neighbor, aren’t you?” he asked, leaning casually against the metal fence surrounding the cart return.

You nodded slowly as he looked at you. “Y-yeah,” you said breathlessly. A smile spread across his face before he held his hand out for you to shake. “Joshua,” he said in what you assumed was an introduction. You hesitantly took his hand, feeling the heat radiating off him. “Y/N,” you responded in a much softer voice than you intended.

Just as quickly as he took your hand and shook it, he let go, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, putting an emphasis on your name. You couldn’t deny, you liked the way your name sounded when he said it. “You too, Joshua,” you answered. He tilted his head like a curious puppy. “So,” he started, taking a step forward, closer, towards you.

“Do you live alone?”

His question seemed to snap you out of whatever trance you seemed to be in and now that the allure of his smile was no longer clouding your judgement, your entire body was screaming at the danger it sensed. “No,” you lied. Joshua stopped to stare at you. “You don’t live alone?” he asked curiously. You shook your head. “No,” you answered again. “I have a –” you trailed off. What lie could you get away with. A roommate? A parent? A boyfriend? At some point he might notice if no one else showed up.

“Cat,” you finally said. ‘What the fuck?’ Joshua’s confused expression morphed into amusement. “Ahh, a cat.” You mentally scolded yourself. ‘What the fuck was that? How the hell is that going to deter anyone? A fucking cat???’ You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, a cat.”

Silence fell over the two of you before you finally broke it.

“Well, I should be going. Nice to meet you!” you said quickly before turning and making a beeline for your car. “Nice to meet you too, Y/N,” he called. You quickly unlocked your car and got in, shutting and locking the doors before fighting with your seatbelt. Once it clicked into place, you started the car, checking the coast was clear before hastily pulling out of the space and hurrying out of the parking lot as fast as you could without hurting anyone or violating any laws.

Your second errand only took a few minutes and soon, you were pulling into your garage, the door shutting behind you as you got out of your car and started unloading your groceries. Entering your home, you heard the subtle sounds of the TV and deposited your bags on the kitchen island. Turning around, you found Youngji lounging on your couch, remote in hand as she flipped through the channels.

“Welcome home, dear,” she called jokingly from her spot. “How was your day?”

You grimaced as you removed your jacket and moved to hang it up in the small hall near your garage entrance and kicked off your shoes, opting for your house slippers instead. You returned to the kitchen and started unpacking your groceries. “If you’re going to pretend like you live here, you can at least help me put the groceries away,” you said, looking over at her.

Youngji turned off the TV, tossing the remote onto the cushion beside her before getting up with a groan and making her way into your kitchen, wearing a pair of guest slippers. “Did you bring me any snacks?” she asked as she peered into one of the bags. You lightly tapped her on the head with an unopened plastic jar of grated parmesan.

“No snooping,” you said as you continued to pull everything out. “Just unload.”

As she helped, you chatted, talking about your respective weeks. As you started to put your things away, Youngji hopped up onto the kitchen counter, handing you things. “So,” she started as she handed you an unopened bottle of your favorite wine. “Your new neighbor.”

You stood up straight, taking the bottle from her and looking up at her nervously. “What about them?” you asked as nonchalantly as you could, bending over to lay the bottle of wine on its side on the bottom shelf of the fridge. “Have you met them?” Youngji asked as you stood up straight. “Yeah,” you answered vaguely. “I met him.” Youngji’s expression lit up.

“Him? As in singular man? Living next door?”

You looked up at her, noticing the excitement in her eyes. “No,” you said, pointing at her with your finger. “Don’t look at me like that!” Youngji pouted instantly as you continued putting away your perishables. “Oh come on!” she whined as you shut the refrigerator door. “Is he single?” she asked as you moved to start putting away the pantry items.

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully. “I didn’t ask.”

Youngji hopped down and moved to lean against the wall next to the pantry opening, arms crossed over her chest. “You met him but didn’t talk about the basics?” she asked. You looked at her as you set a new bag of rice on the shelf. “We didn’t really have a chance to talk,” you admitted. “I met him at the store while I was checking out.”

Youngji narrowed her eyes. “Is that why you hung up on me?” she accused. You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I hung up on you because I needed both hands to scan my items and put them away. Stop jumping to conclusions,” you added. Youngji stuck her tongue out at you as you finished putting the groceries away.

“Well, what’s he like?” Youngji asked as you moved to grab the non-food items to put away. She followed you through the house as you put away your laundry detergent in the laundry room. She continued to follow you as you took your toiletry refills upstairs to your linen closet.

“His name is Joshua,” you offered when she asked for his name. “That’s as much as I got.” Youngji wandered behind you as you led the way back downstairs. “No job?” she asked. You turned to face her as you reached the kitchen. “I didn’t get to ask and he didn’t offer the information.”

Youngji frowned as you opened the fridge and started to pull out the things you needed to make dinner. Your best friend moved to sit at the kitchen island. “So,” she started as you grabbed the necessary pans and set them on the counter. “What’s for dinner, boss?”

Dinner was a regular affair, sipping on wine as the pasta boiled and chicken cooked. Youngji was great company and always knew how to keep the conversation going, cracking jokes and telling amusing tales of her coworkers’ antics.

After finishing your early dinner, you headed upstairs to get changed and ready to go out. It was Saturday night and twice a month, you accompanied Youngji out to the city to visit her favorite club and let loose. You opted for a fitted, black dress that hugged your curves and fell just above your knees. Paired with the only pair of red bottom shoes you owned and a simple black clutch, you joined your best friend downstairs to put on your shoes and grab your jackets while you waited for the rideshare to arrive.

Youngji had donned a similar fitted dress but in white with a different neckline and long sleeves, over which she wore a black denim cropped jacket and wore black pumps with silver heels. Her clutch, which was a cross body with a chain strap, hung off her shoulder and the body of the purse was a vibrant red. You’d gone more subtle on your makeup but Youngji had, as always, gone bold with a dark smokey eye and nude lip.

Your uber arrived shortly after and Youngji led the way out of your house, letting you close and lock the door behind you. The black, four door sedan had tinted windows but the driver in the front seat matched the picture on the app, as did the license plate. You followed your best friend into the backseat, settling into the black leather interior.

The ride to the club wasn’t far but took longer with the traffic as you neared the heart of the city. As the car pulled up to the entrance of the club, you thanked the driver, handing her a cash tip and getting out of the car, curbside. Youngji joined you on the sidewalk as the car pulled into the flow of traffic and you turned to join the thankfully short queue into the club.

The location of the club was off the main strip of the downtown area so it never got exceedingly busy but it was still always full of people when you arrived. You never had to wait in line for long though and soon you were handing your IDs over to the bouncer and being directed inside where you paid your cover charges. The charge was higher than other clubs, but the higher cover charge meant the drinks were cheaper.

After turning your jackets into the coat room and getting your tickets, which you tucked into the safety of your clutches, you made your way to the bar, keeping a firm hold on Youngji’s hand as she led the way through the throngs of people on the dance floor. The music the DJ played was always a good mix of different genres that always got people dancing. He definitely knew what he was doing.

At the bar, you squeezed between the other patrons, next to your best friend so you could order something simple. There were several bartenders, bustling about as they got drink orders, made drinks, stocked the station, and other usual duties that came with the job. You ordered something with cherries.

When you got your drink, you were surprised to find it was green with green cherries. The bartender, a very attractive man with a black button down under a black vest, gave you a wink as he set the drink down before you. You thanked him but before you could hand him your card, Youngji beat you to it, opening a tab and telling you it was on her tonight.

After getting your drinks, you nursed them at the end of the bar as you looked around for either an empty seat or table. Youngji must have spotted one because she grabbed your hand and started steering you away from the bar and around the dance floor. As you neared the corner, you noticed two empty chairs and quickly snagged them, thankful to find somewhere to sit.

“How is that?” Youngji asked, eyeing your very green drink. You glanced down at it. “It’s good,” you replied over the bass that reverberated through the club and vibrated against your feet. Youngji silently held her hand out for your drink which you handed over. She took a sip, eyes widening as she handed it back. “That’s good, what is it?” she asked. You shrugged as you took another sip. “No idea,” you replied. “I taste sprite and melon though,” you added, taking another sip.

You continued to nurse your drinks as you listened to the music and watched the other patrons. One of the main reasons you came out here was to people-watch. It was fascinating to see how others interacted, especially strangers. When you finished your drink, Youngji got up and went to retrieve two more, bringing back two of the same drink you had received from the bartender.

“It’s some special drink for the night,” Youngji said as she sat down, handing you one of the drinks. “Mean Green or something like that,” she added. You took another sip, enjoying the taste. It was one of those drinks where you could barely taste the alcohol and in your experience with the club scene, you were well aware that drinks that tasted like juice were dangerous.

The alcohol had a way of sneaking up on you.

After downing a second and eventually a third drink, you were loose enough to throw your inhibitions away and join your best friend on the dance floor. The music, a mix of a couple sounds you’d heard in passing, played, drowning out almost all other sound as you enjoyed this time you got to spend with your best friend.

When you first moved to this city after graduating from college, which felt like a lifetime ago, Youngji was one of the first people you met. She worked at your last job. You were both fresh out of college, in debt, and needing work so entry level was the only thing you could find.

Youngji had immediately latched onto you and quickly became your closest work friend. After a few years of attempting to make your way up the corporate ladder, you found a much better paying job and Youngji was the first to encourage you to go for it. When you left, you had expected that your friendship with Youngji wouldn’t last but she continued to text and call, inviting you out and your friendship blossomed into more than just coworkers. You became actual friends.

Eventually, she left that job as well and went in a completely different direction in her career and now you were both settled and comfortable in your careers. Youngji lived in the city in a cute apartment on the edge of downtown that overlooked the river while you lived in a townhouse which had been a gift from your late aunt.

The next logical step now that you were settled was finding someone to share your life with but you weren’t in a rush to find anyone. Youngji was also in that stage where she was looking but not too seriously. You were just enjoying your life and living vicariously.

As the music changed again, Youngji leaned in to speak into your ear. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” she said over the music. You nodded to show you understood and told her you’d wait right there. You were having too much fun, feeling the music and dancing. You were well past the stage where you felt embarrassed or too anxious to do anything by yourself.

As your body swayed, your eyes shut and you continued to move to the beat. The lights seemed to mimic the crowd, dancing over the people in time to the music. You started to turn when you felt a warm body press into you from behind. Your eyes snapped open instantly, knowing it was impossible for it to be your best friend. They were too tall.

Turning in their hold, your eyes met those same green-yellow ombre eyes.

“Well, hello, neighbor,” Joshua said, an amused smirk on his face as he looked down at you.

“J-Joshua?” you asked, your voice barely audible over the music. Your body had stopped swaying as you stared back at him. “What’re you doing here?” He tilted his head curiously, those yellow-green eyes staring into your soul and seemingly glowing under the club lights.

“It’s a club, Y/N,” he answered. “I’m here to partake in this…” he trailed off, looking around at the dancing patrons surrounding you. “Revelry.” You stared up at him, heart pounding in your chest and echoing in your ears. “Am I not supposed to be here?” he asked, moving closer until his body was pressed right up against yours.

“Is this your special place? Should I find somewhere else to go and watch the people of this planet drink and make fools of themselves?” he asked, hands skimming over your hips as he drew you closer, holding you tight against him. You shook your head, staring at him wordlessly. “No,” you finally said, breath leaving your lungs as he leaned in closer.

“No,” you said again, clearing your throat and finding the will to push him back. “I’m uh…” you hesitated, closing your eyes and your brow furrowing. The club had started to spin and you were getting dizzier and dizzier by the minute. “Y/N?” Joshua asked, hands gently grabbing yours. “Are you alright?” he asked. You shook your head, attempting to shake yourself out of whatever this was.

You looked up at him as his face came back into focus. “Yeah,” you gasped. “I’m fine. I need to go find my friend. Enjoy your night.” You pulled away from him and started to push through the crowd only for him to catch up to you, gently grabbing your hand. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, all amusement gone from his expression, replaced only with concern.

You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. Have a good night, neighbor,” you said, attempting to banter back with him. Whatever it was in your tone seemed to work and a small smile came over his face. “Alright, neighbor.”

You quickly found Youngji and after telling her about your almost spill on the dance floor, she agreed it was time to leave. You left out the part about running into Joshua as you retrieved your jackets while Youngji closed her tab at the bar. Outside, you waited for your rideshare on the sidewalk. The line for the club now extended down the side of the building and around the corner.

Your uber arrived shortly after stepping outside and after dropping Youngji off at her apartment, the driver took you back to your home in the suburbs. You thanked him, handing over an additional tip as you opened your door and stepped out.

The walk up to your front door was slow and sluggish and your body felt hot, despite the cool night air. It was a heat that radiated from deep within you and you couldn’t quite place it. Perhaps it was the alcohol but it didn’t feel quite right. As you unlocked your door, a car passed on the street behind you but you paid it no mind as you let yourself into your home, shutting and locking the door behind you.

You dragged yourself upstairs after checking to make sure your home was locked up and barely stripped yourself of your dress and shoes before collapsing into bed where exhaustion and sleep overtook you. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the run in with your handsome neighbor, but your dreams that night were weird to say the least.

Weirder than usual.

When you woke the following morning, you couldn’t really remember much of them other than your neighbor starred in them and they were accompanied by that same deep seated heat that had thankfully dissipated by morning. The rest of your weekend was spent doing chores. You cleaned your house, did the laundry, and the dishes.

The morning had started out very gray and by afternoon, the clouds hadn’t dispersed and a light rain had settled in. You decided to light a few candles and camp out in the front room in front of your TV while you folded your laundry and caught up on your favorite show.

The rest of the day passed in a similar fashion and soon you were falling into bed.

Your sleep was plagued with the same strange dreams with Joshua. You weren’t sure what it all meant and you weren’t able to learn anything else as you woke up abruptly when your alarm cut through your subconscious. It was still dark out when you pulled yourself out of bed to shower and start your day.

It was the one day a week you were required to be in the office. Your job was mostly work from home but you had to go to the office every Monday for in person weekly meetings which were always done on Mondays. The commute to the office was the worst part, driving downtown, parking in the company parking garage, and making your way to the lobby and then up to the fifteenth floor.

The day dragged on but you were thankful that it was just today that you would be required to go in and then you could lounge about at home and get your work done. When the clock finally read half past four, you were beyond relieved to be leaving and heading home.

The commute back was much more enjoyable due to less traffic and you weren’t required to head back for another week.

You pulled into your garage and got out, letting yourself into the house where you were quick to rid yourself of your jacket and shoes. As you headed into your living room, you caught sight of the mail truck outside and sighed. ‘Right,’ you told yourself. ‘The mail.’

You retrieved your shoes and put them on at the front door, stepping out into the cool air and making your way down the steps. As you were halfway to the gate, you noticed a familiar face at the mailboxes and stopped in your tracks. Joshua. You were contemplating turning around and head back in to wait until he was gone but when his eyes flickered up and he caught sight of you, it was too late.

You committed and continued down the pathway, opening your gate and stepping out onto the sidewalk. “Hey neighbor,” Joshua said as he unlocked his slot, pulling out his mail and shutting it before stepping aside and allowing you to do the same. He sorted through his mail, checking to make sure it was all assigned to him while you pulled your own bills and other junk from your little metal box.

“Hey,” you said softly. As you shut the small door, locking it, Joshua spoke up. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked, his voice sounding genuinely concerned. You looked up at him. With a smile you nodded. “Yeah,” you answered. “Just tired from the day. Had to go into the office today.” He glanced down, taking note of your attire. “So where do you work?” he asked,

“Just at a firm downtown,” you answered. “I mostly work from home but once a week, I have to go into the office. Makes my Mondays just that more awful,” you joked with a light chuckle. Joshua mimicked your amusement. “What do you do?” he asked, sounding mildly curious.

You spent the next couple minutes explaining the nuances of your job and what you did on a day to day basis. “It sounds much more tedious than it is,” you added. “It’s not a glamorous or highly important job,” you added. “But it pays really well. Allows me to live a comfortable life.” Joshua nodded slowly.

“And rent such a beautiful home?” he asked, a smile gracing his face. You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I actually own my townhome.” His expression shifted to awe. “Your salary covers your mortgage?” he asked, sounding impressed. You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I actually inherited this place from my aunt,” you explained.

Joshua leaned against the gate, glancing back at your place. “It’s a beautiful home,” he said with a smile. You echoed his expression. “My aunt loved this place. She took great care of it and actually renovated it from the bottom to the top.” Joshua glanced down at you. “She did a great job.”

You looked up to meet his gaze. Silence fell as you stared at one another. Finally you broke eye contact and cleared your throat. “So, uh,” you stared. “What about you? What do you do for work?” Joshua’s smile shifted into a smirk for the briefest of moments but before he could answer, you heard the sound of a phone ringing. He apologized softly, digging into his pocket and pulling out his phone.

His eyes read the contact on the screen and you watched as his brow furrowed slightly. He finally looked up at you. “Sorry,” he said with a kind smile. “I have to take this. It was nice talking to you,” he continued. “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” he added before turning away and heading towards his own gate, answering his phone and holding it to his ear.

You watched as he headed towards his front door and disappeared into his home before making your way back to your own front door. Once inside, you went about your night, making dinner, eating, and then settling down for bed. As you lay there, your mind wandered back to Joshua.

You’d never really bothered to get to know your neighbors before, at least nothing past surface level.

Perhaps just this once, you could make an exception.

Over the next couple days, you continued to run into Joshua, whether it be at the mailbox or the store. You managed to chat with him each time and learned more and more about him. He worked in the entertainment industry but kept the details vague which you could understand for that line of work. You also learned that apart from being extremely good-looking, kind, and hardworking, that he was also very single and had signed at least a two year lease on the townhouse next door. Since it was just him, he’d turned one of the extra bedrooms into a home gym.

He seemed almost as interested in you as you were in him but despite the occasional flirting, he never really made a move. He also never said or did anything that made you feel uncomfortable and after a couple weeks of interacting with him, his inhuman qualities started to feel less shocking and the feeling of alertness or danger that had accompanied him started to dissipate into the background.

You knew he wasn’t human but that didn’t seem to bother you or anyone else around the two of you.

Nearly two months had passed by since Joshua had moved in. It was Friday which meant the weekend was coming up. Youngji was coming over as planned for dinner and Joshua had managed to catch you outside while you were getting your mail.

Joshua had started a new home project now that the weather was starting to warm up and you caught him in the middle of gardening. He was dressed in an old pair of jeans, the knees stained with grass and dirt, a plain white tee shirt, also smeared with bits of dirt tucked into his jeans and a dirty pair of work boots. He was leaning against the fence that separated your yards, a pair of gardening gloves on his hands, and a trowel in one hand.

You had been in the midst of conversation when you heard a car door shut and glanced out towards the street to find Youngji gathering her bag from the passenger seat of her car. She looked up as she reached the gate and her eyes went wide. “Youngji!” you said, waving her over. This was the first time she had come over while Joshua was out so this was the first time she’d ever seen your neighbor.

“This is Joshua,” you said as she let herself in, staring wide-eyed at your neighbor as she approached. Joshua removed one of his gloves and extended a hand for her to shake. She slowly took it, eyes still wide and staring at him, almost as if she were in a trance. Joshua seemed to have that effect on most people he met. She finally shook herself out of it. “N-nice to meet you,” she murmured, retracting her hand quickly after shaking Joshua’s hand a couple times.

The interaction seemed a little cold from your perspective. “Joshua’s started a new project,” you said, trying to break the tension that started to build between the three of you. “He’s built a flower bed here,” you explained. “What are you planting again?” you asked him directly.

Youngji listened silently as Joshua explained what he was planting in the flower bed before explaining the other plans for the yard he had. Throughout the whole thing, Youngji kept staring at him, occasionally glancing at you. Finally, you excused yourself and Youngji, wishing Joshua a good rest of the day and leading your best friend into your home.

Once inside and the door shut, you rounded on Youngji.

“What the hell was that?” you demanded as she kicked her shoes off and carried her bag over to the couch, dropping it on the cushion and sat down, covering her mouth with her hand. “Ji?” you asked, walking over to the couch. “What is it?”

Youngji looked up at you. “Do you have any idea who that was?” she asked. You nodded your head slowly. “Uh, yeah? That was Joshua. My new neighbor,” you answered. Youngji shook her head. “No,” she said. “I mean, yeah. He is your new neighbor but do you know who he is?” she asked. You stared at her, confusion spreading across your face.

“No?” you finally answered. Youngji let out a laugh, not of amusement but of astonishment. “Your new neighbor, the boy next door,” she started as she pulled her hand away from her mouth. “Is a porn star.”

Your stomach flipped at her revelation. “What?” you asked incredulously. “A p-porn star? No,” you said, shaking your head. “There’s no way. You have to be mistaken.” Youngji watched as you crossed in front of her to take a seat on the other part of the sofa. “He is,” she retorted. “He’s actually a really popular one. There aren’t that many alien porn stars out there,” she continued and you sat up, holding up your hand to silence her.

“I’m sorry,” you interrupted. “What did you just say? A what porn star?”

Youngji stared at you, a deadpan expression on her face. “An alien one,” she finally answered. “An alien porn star?” you repeated before bursting into laughter. “How do you even know this?” you finally asked when your laughter subsided. You watched red creep up your friend’s neck and face. “That’s not the point,” she said nervously, fidgeting in her seat.

“The point is that your neighbor is a porn star from another planet.”

Later that night after Youngji left, you were sitting on your couch, a movie playing in the background but you weren’t paying attention. Your mind was elsewhere. You glanced over the back of the couch towards your office where you could see your computer sitting on your desk in the darkness of the room.

Your curiosity was peaked but you weren’t even sure if you wanted to act on it. You weren’t exactly afraid of what you might find, but more afraid that you would like it. Youngji hadn’t given you much to go on other than a link. You stared at the computer for a moment longer before sighing and getting up.

Entering your office, you grabbed your laptop and took it back to your couch, setting it on the coffee table and producing a pair of earbuds that you paired to the laptop. Grabbing your phone, you opened your texts with Youngji and typed the link she had sent you into the address bar of your browser exactly as it appeared in the text.

It took you to a dark webpage with three large electric green tentacles, curling up around a singular rectangular box with rounded corners. Glowing and dripping green text read the word enter with a little green arrow pointing to the right. You hovered your mouse over it, checking the link properly to make sure you typed it correctly.

“Just do it,” you whispered to yourself. You clicked on the arrow and the page seemingly refreshed. The page had changed and now you were greeted with the same black page, green tentacles and an empty box with a typing cursor. Glowing and dripping green text instructed you to type in a name before allowing you to continue.

You pondered for a moment. You could keep the name vague but something deep down in you wanted Joshua to know that you knew about his career in the entertainment industry. He’d been purposefully vague when telling you and now you knew why. Alien porn star wasn’t exactly a career you’d go around advertising. Smiling to yourself, you typed into the box and clicked the little arrow next to your new display name.

Immediately, you were met with the home page. It was like the rest of the website you’d seen so far. Dark background, glowing green text but instead of the three large tentacles in the middle of the page, extending up from the bottom of the screen, there were a bunch of smaller tentacles peeking out from around the edge of the browser.

At the top of the page was a banner with a logo for the name of the website. It read Xeno-rotic in that same glowing green text that dripped down. Under it were various navigation buttons ranging from ‘home’ to ‘contact.’ Under that was a small search bar with a little green magnifying glass. You started to scroll, checking out the home page.

It displayed a list of active streams, a thumbnail with the name of the stream, the user who was live with a little slow blinking green dot, as well as a small description and a little green eye icon next to how many viewers were currently watching. You scrolled down to the bottom of the page where a little simple white arrow pointed to the right, indicating a next page.

Instead of clicking, you scrolled back up to the top. When you reached the top of the list, it refreshed and a couple new streams showed up. Once of which was at the very top and quickly gaining a lot of viewers. You looked at the username and checked your text from Youngji. The username of the top stream matched the one she had sent you.

You mouse hovered over the thumbnail and for a moment, you sat unmoving, unblinking as you contemplated just closing the whole thing and pretending this never happened but your curiosity was too strong and you’d already come this far. Taking a deep breath, you clicked on the stream and waited with baited breath as the page loaded. It was a lot like the home page but instead of a list, you were greeted with an embedded video player. The screen of the player was black with a circular loading icon, a glowing green one.

Just as you were about to back out and close your browser, the blackness flickered away and you were greeted by the sight of a figure moving on screen. “Sorry, sorry,” a familiar voice said. “For those of you just joining, the audio cut out so I’m trying to fix that.” Your heart skipped a beat as your neighbor’s face came into view, from the nose up. He was very close to the screen but you could tell he was smiling just from the way his eyes turned into crescents.

“I’ll have it fixed in a second,” he added before disappearing. You could see below the video was a white chat box with black text. It was going crazy with chats from various users. Off to the side of the player was a small box displaying a few names with little alien icons next to them. Above the names was the same green text that read “supporters.” You assumed it was some sort of payment system. If you paid so much, your name was shown in that tier.

Joshua’s face reappeared in frame and he peeked over the edge of the desk his computer was sitting on. “How’s that?” he asked. His voice was clear and the video also seemed clearer. Several people in the chat agreed with your personal sentiments, applauding him for fixing the audio and video feeds so swiftly. Joshua chuckled as he stood up and you could now see he had changed out of his gardening clothes. He was wearing a black tee and a pair of light gray sweatpants.

The chat went absolutely feral over this revelation.

You watched with amusement as Joshua leaned in to read the chat. “Oh is that so?” he asked, raising a brow, a playful smile appearing on his face. “We’ve only just started, chat, and already you’re demanding I remove my clothes?” he continued, a teasing laugh leaving his lips, “At least buy me dinner, first.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you at watching him banter with his viewers. It wasn’t unlike the way he teased and flirted with you. He was a natural at it. You watched as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes scanning the chat. “No, no,” he said softly. “It’s not out yet. It should be coming in the next couple months. We finished filming a few months ago. There was a lot of post production they needed to do before it’s ready,” he explained and you wondered what he was talking about and started reading the chat.

t3ntacleluver101: how was filming? It’s been a while right? knottyxbunny: hi shua! xen0ph1liac: i love you shua b34mmeupdaddy: beam me up daddy asstr0nut: will physical copies be released or will it only be available for streaming?

Based on the comments you could make out as the chat moved at lightning speed, Joshua must have finished filming something. He confirmed this as he answered some of the questions you had seen.

“No, it’ll be released for streaming first and then physical copies will go out to adult stores. You’ll also be able to buy it directly from the company website,” he explained, answering that question first. You watched as he reached up, scratching the back of his head. “Filming was different,” he continued. “It’s been a while since I’d been in front of a professional crew,” he added with a chuckle. “I’ve been doing cam stuff for so long that I got used to just being in front of a camera on my own. It was weird having to act again,” he continued stretching before leaning forward, resting his chin in his hand as he read more.

“I’m seeing a lot of familiar usernames,” he said with a smile. “Hi bunny,” he added. You watched his eyes scan the screen and assumed that he might have a list of all the viewers on his end. You watched his brows raise before a smirk came over his face.

“Here’s a few new ones,” he started. “Hi monster smasher sixty-nine, I hope I said that right. Here’s another, black hole bandit,” he read, letting out a chuckle. “Clever,” he continued. “He loves me not, with a k. Oh, a play on words. How cute,” he continued. “Scum lord four-two-one, I’m a monster for you, and…” he trailed off as he read the next one, his grin widening.

“Neighbor six-eight-three,” he read your username aloud and your heart skipped a beat as he looked into the camera. “Hello, neighbor,” he said and you swore he knew it was you. “Welcome to the stream everyone. I guess I’ve taken up most of the beginning of this,” he said sitting back in his seat, slowly swiveling back and forth as he continued to read the screen.

You watched as his hands moved and he did something with the mouse. “There,” he said, turning his head slightly. “Now I can see the chat and viewer list on this screen,” he said, sitting back once more. “For those of you that are new,” he started as he rested his hands behind his head, sitting back with his thighs spread, looking every bit as comfortable as he probably felt.

“I like to do things a little differently here. Most cam stars will only take suggestions from paying viewers,” he explained. “I don’t think that’s fair. So I will take suggestion and direction from paying viewers, of course, but don’t think that if you can’t pay, that I won’t listen to you as well. I want everyone to have a good time and enjoy the show,” he said with a smile. “It’s why I don’t charge an entry fee like some of the other stars here. I’m not shaming them by any means,” he continued.

“Everyone’s gotta do what they can to make money,” he added. “I just personally don’t like to do that.” You watched as he continued to swivel, turning his focus to the screen with the chat on it. “Oh come on now,” he said playfully. “Bunny, Xeno, Beam,” he said. “Be kind to our new guests. Don’t hog the chat. Remember what happened last time? I had to mute you because you wouldn’t stop spamming. Don’t make me do that again.”

A wave of heat washed over you, arousal shooting straight to your core at the sound of his voice. His voice was soft but his tone was very commanding and stern. Joshua lowered his hands, resting them on his thighs as he continued to read. You tore your gaze away from him to look at the chat as well.

b34mmeupdaddy: sorry alien daddy knottyxbunny: sorry. I’ll be good xen0ph1liac: just wanna express my luv ):

You heard Joshua chuckle and looked back at him. “It’s okay Beam, and you better Bunny. You know what happens when you don’t behave. I know Xeno, and I appreciate it, but we have six new viewers,” he said with a smile. “Don’t be shy, say hi, he encouraged. You watched as the others said hello and hi in the chat.

imamonster4u: howdy 🤠 heluvsmekn0t34: hi hi m0nstersmasher69: greetings scumlord421: yo blackh0leb4ndit: hey 👋

You realized that you were the sixth and you hesitated to type. Joshua noticed, the corners of his mouth twitching as he held back the urge to smirk. “Come on, neighbor,” he said. “You’re holding up the chat.” Your fingers hovered over the keys of your keyboard and you quickly typed out a response and deleted it before typing another in and pressing enter. Your whole body felt like it was on fire.

neighbor683: i don’t like being told what to do

You watched as Joshua sat up straight, leaning in to rest his chin in his hand, a smile spreading across his face as he read your message. “Oh, is that right, neighbor?” he asked, turning to look at the camera. “Don’t like being told what to do? How interesting.” The chat went wild, other viewers rushing to repeat the same words but Joshua’s attention was on the camera, almost as if he was staring past it and into your eyes. “I’ll have to remember that,” he finally said and pulled away.

He didn’t waste any more time as payments started coming in with suggestions as well as the chat asking him to show more, to talk, to do anything. You merely observed, watching as he gave a show, slowly moving his hands over his body until one rested over the growing bulge in his sweatpants.

“You’ve been so patient,” he said, eyes flitting over to the chat but speaking to no one in particular.

Or so you thought.

“Wonder what I am, where I’m from, what I do,” he continued, his hand moving over his erecting and palming himself through the thick material of his sweats. “Wonder what’s under here,” he added, gesturing to his crotch. “I look human enough,” he continued. “But I’m far from it.”

You watched as he rested his head back against his chair headrest, his chest slowly rising and falling as his breathing started to grow heavier. “You wanna see it?” he asked, the hint of a smirk on his face. “Wanna see what I’m hiding under here?”

You could see the chat moving at hyperspeed as the viewers threw out their own suggestions and pleaded with him to take something off. His hand slipped under the waistband of his sweats and you could see a peek of his underwear. You watched his hand move under the material, no doubt fingers wrapping around his shaft and slowly starting to pump himself.

You were on the edge of your seat, eyes glued to your screen as you watched him, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips started to buck, fucking his fist a little faster. You watched as a large payment, some four figures, appeared on screen with a single request: show us.

Joshua let out a breathless chuckle, his free hand grabbing his waistband. “As you wish.” he said and you watched, lips parted in awe as he pushed his sweats and underwear down, pulling his cock free from the confines. Or what you could only assume was his cock.

Despite his eyes, the teeth, and the overall feeling that Joshua was far from human, he was still human looking enough that when you looked at him, you could justify that he was wearing contacts and had fake teeth but when you saw what he was hiding under his clothes, at least his pants, all justification of him being human was thrown out the window.

In his hand was something that resembled a cock, just not a human one.

The base of it rested against a slit telling you that whatever this was, it was retractable. Meaning it withdrew inside of him when not in use. The color of it was what threw you. The base, which was slightly bulbous, was a deep crimson. The shaft was veiny and quite girthy but it also had small ribbed like patterns that wrapped around.

As your eyes were drawn up the shaft, the color faded from the deep crimson color to a lighter, more pale red. When you reached the head, you finally let out a soft gasp. It was a very soft pink. The absolute tip of his cock was a darker pink. The head was pointed, almost like an arrow shape, the base of the head slightly flared. It was like nothing you’d ever seen before and would probably ever see.

From base to tip, it was probably a good seven inches, so it wasn’t massive but you were certain that it would definitely fill whatever hole he decided to put it in. You watched his hand glide up the shaft towards the head and noticed a small bead of a translucent, pink liquid, almost like a pink syrup, drip from the slit of his cock. ‘Precum?’ you wondered to yourself.

You watched as he gathered the viscous liquid and spread it along his cock, making his hand glide smoother. Joshua let out a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as he continued to stroke himself, hand moving a little faster. It was a mesmerizing sight. The way his precum seemed to shimmer in the light of his room. You cou;dn’t seem to look away. As another bead of the pink precum appeared, you wondered what it tasted like.

Before you could stop yourself, your fingers were typing into the chat. Joshua’s eyes opened as you hit enter and he slowed his movements so he could focus on reading. You watched as he lifted his head and stared at the screen with the chat on it. “Taste it?” he asked, curiously. He turned to look at the camera. You typed quickly into the chat.

neighbor683: have you ever tasted your own precum before?

Joshua let out a chuckle. “I have,” he said with a nod before turning to look at the camera. “Do you want to taste it, neighbor? You wanna come over and see what my cock tastes like?” Your thighs pressed together on their own, as if you weren’t in control of your body. You didn’t care about the rest of the chat at this point and you weren’t sure if Joshua did either.

neighbor683: how about you come over here instead

Joshua let out another chuckle, his hand moving up and down his cock again, spreading more of the precum. “You want me to come over?” he asked, his head falling back against his headrest again. “Want me to come over and fuck that cute, tight little human cunt?”

The chat was going wild over your interaction but you didn’t care as you typed another response.

neighbor683: do it. I dare you.

Joshua let out a moan, low and pornographic as his cock twitched and he came onto his stomach. Thick ropes of milky pink painted his golden skin as he continued to pump his hand up and down, making sure to get everything out. You watched, eyes wide and underwear sticking to you, as his chest rose and fell, his breathing erratic and heavy.

The chat was still going off when he finally opened his eyes and lifted his head. “I wasn’t expecting to cum so soon,” he said softly as he sat up and reached off screen for something, producing a few tissues which he used to clean himself off with. “I’ll have to take another shower,” he said with an amused smirk as he wiped his stomach and hand. His cock had gone flaccid and started to retreat back inside his body. He pulled his underwear and pants back up, hiding it from view.

“Let me wash my hands really quick,” he said as he got to his feet.

He disappeared for a few moments, all the while, you sat there, staring at your screen in disbelief as the chat demanded to know what was going on. You saw your username being thrown around a few times. Without saying anything, you closed the browser, your screen going back to your desktop. Wordlessly, you shut your laptop, got to your feet and carried the device back to your office.

Setting it on your desk, you glanced out the window where you could see Joshua’s yard, the small flower garden barely visible in the darkness. As you shut your blinds, you headed back out into the living room, not noticing the dark shadow that crossed his yard and hopped the fence.

As you grabbed your empty cup from the coffee table, you were unaware of the footsteps ascending your front steps. It wasn’t until three sharp knocks rang out from your front door that you knew someone was there. You looked up from the sink. Had Joshua decided to make good on your dare? Or was he here to reprimand you?

You hesitated before wiping your hands on a towel and walked over to the front door. You knew it was Joshua without checking and unlocked the door, pulling it open and bracing for impact.

There he stood on your porch, still dressed in the same sweats and black tee. As the door opened, he turned to look at you, those piercing yellow-green eyes meeting your gaze. Nothing was said for a moment before he took the chance to look you over, a smirk slowly spreading across his face.

“Enjoy the show?” he asked, leaning against your doorframe. You swallowed thickly. “Look,” you started. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have watched—”

“Why are you apologizing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You looked up at him. “I… I don’t know,” you answered. “Are… aren’t you upset?” Joshua stared at you before letting out a laugh. “Upset? That my attractive neighbor now knows I’m a sex worker? No,” he answered. “And since you just sat there and watched from start to finish, I’m going to assume you aren’t upset?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “Good,” Joshua replied. “So, you still want me to come over?” he asked, his tone lowering. Excitement coursed through you at the prospect of seeing in person what you’d seen on your screen. “I uh,” you started. “Don’t you need some time to … you know?”

Joshua chuckled as he leaned in closer. “You’re really cute when you’re flustered,” he said. “I’m not human,” he started. “Give me like five minutes and I’ll be more than ready to go.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Do you wanna come back in five minutes or—”

“Just let me in and eat you out already,” he said with a smirk. You could feel your arousal pooling in your panties. “Besides,” he added as you stepped back, letting him into your home. “It smells like you could use some release.” You stared up at him in shock as he shut the door behind him. “Alien, remember?” he said, tapping his nose.

You watched him look around your living room. “Nice place,” he said with a nod. He looked down, meeting your gaze and neither of you moved or spoke for a moment. “So,” he started. “We gonna do this right here on the floor or you wanna show me to your room?”

Without any more prompting, you took his hand and led him up the stairs, leading him down the hall to your bedroom. Inside, you watched him look around curiously. “You can tell so much about a person by what they decorate their room with,” he said softly as he neared your bed, running the tips of his fingers over your bedspread.

You walked over as he turned towards you and let out a laugh as you pushed him down onto the bed, falling onto his butt with a bounce. “You’re so eager,” he said with a chuckle. You started to climb onto the bed, straddling his lap. “Just right into it, huh?” he whispered as your hands rested on his shoulders. You could feel his move up your back. “Have you watched any of my films?” he asked, his voice still soft. When you shook your head no, he smiled. “Good,” he said with a nod.

“I’d rather you didn’t have any expectations. The way I fuck in front of a camera is not how I do it off screen,” he explained, his hands sliding down your back and moving to your waist. “Do you have a safeword?” he asked, his voice still soft. “Cherries,” you whispered. Joshua reached up, cupping your cheek. “Good,” he replied. “Tell me what you like,” he continued, his hand sliding down the side of your neck, watching how you reacted, head tilting back slightly.

His fingers wrapped around your neck and you let out a moan as he squeezed gently. “Choking, got it,” he said, his voice slightly amused. “Anything else?” he asked, his hand sliding down to your chest and smoothing over your breast. “Dom-” your voice cut off. “What was that?” he asked. You licked your lips, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Dominate me.”

The minute the words left your lips, Joshua had done a complete 180, flipping you onto your back on the mattress and hovering over you. “Are you sure you want that?” he asked softly, eyes searching your face. You nodded slowly. “Yes,” you breathed out. “Take me.”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything else as Joshua’s lips crashed against yours, muffling a gasp as his hands wandered. He pulled back briefly. “Can I take this off?” he asked, gently tugging at your top. You nodded. “Take it all off, please,” you replied. Joshua chuckled as you pulled him into another kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

His spit was different from your own. Whereas yours was watery, his was thicker, more viscous. It had a slight taste to it. Something you couldn’t place. It was almost tangy but oh so subtle. Joshua’s hands pulled your shirt up and he broke away to pull it off entirely, tossing it aside as his eyes drank in your appearance. “I like this,” he murmured, fingers skimming over the black lace of your bra.

“But I’d like to take it off,” he added, looking to you for permission. You granted it with a nod and sat up, helping him undo the garment so he could slip it off and toss it aside. He guided you back down onto the bed, lips leaving a trail of kisses down the side of your neck to your collar. He continued, kissing down your chest, stopping to swirl the tip of his tongue around one of your nipples before continuing on until his lips met the waistband of your shorts.

He lifted his head but before he could ask, you were shimmying out of both your shorts and underwear, tossing them aside. Joshua let out a chuckle as he placed his hands on your knees, pushing your thighs apart. His eyes swept downward, taking in your nude form until they settled on the space between your thighs, your arousal glistening in the dim light of your bedside lamp.

You watched as his tongue slipped out to wet his lips. “I could probably just slide right in,” he said softly. “But where’s the harm in having a little taste,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye as he lowered himself onto his stomach, head between your legs. He pushed your thighs further apart, fingers digging into your flesh. “Just a little taste,” he repeated.

Your head fell back against the pillows, a soft moan leaving your lips as his tongue met your clit, dragging slowly over it. On the surface, his tongue looked a lot like a humans but now that you could feel it, you could feel what felt like millions of small spines, like a cat's tongue only on a much smaller scale. It felt incredible and each pass over your clit had your back arching off the mattress as you moaned loudly, the sound unrestrained in the privacy of your bedroom.

True to his word, Joshua only had a small taste, groaning against you as he lapped at your essence. When he pulled back, he sat back on his heels and tugged his shirt off, dropping it aside before also shuffling out of his pants and underwear. The same cock you’d seen on the live stream was barely peeking out of the slit but quickly pushed its way out.

Joshua glanced up at you, a smirk on his lips. “You wanna taste it?” he asked, drawing your attention. You looked back down at his cock before nodding, your eye watching the way the small bead of pinkish precum caught the light. Joshua swiped his thumb over the slit, catching the liquid and brought his hand to your face, offering it to you.

Opening your mouth, you stuck your tongue out and Joshua let out a low chuckle before smearing the fluid over your tongue. Immediately you closed your mouth, swallowing. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced. Most human precum was salty but this was almost… fruity. There was a distinct taste of fruit, maybe a berry but you couldn’t fully place it. One thing was certain tho.

It definitely tasted like it looked.

There was a dull tingle that accompanied the taste and it started where the precum made contact with your tongue but started to slowly spread across your whole tongue and soon your mouth. It slowly spread down your throat, into your stomach and extending further until it settled low in your belly. A heat started to radiate from your belly, spreading throughout your whole body.

Joshua watched as your breathing started to quicken, your heart hammering in your chest. Arousal started to drip down and seep into your bedspread. “What is that?” you asked, referring to the tingling heat. Joshua chuckled. “It’s a natural aphrodisiac,” he explained. “My species secretes it during foreplay to prolong intercourse.”

He leaned over, his fingers wrapping around your throat. “You still want this?” he asked, to which you nodded. “Then do exactly what I tell you,” he said before roughly rolling you onto your stomach. He pulled your hips back, pulling you onto your knees. You felt his hand on your back between your shoulder blades, pushing your chest down. “Stay just like that,” he said in your ear as he moved your arms under your head. “You might want to hold on, baby,” he added as he guided the flared head of his cock to your dripping slit.

You felt the pointed tip enter you and let out a gasp before the rest of the head of his cock followed, pushing into you with ease. Your fingers dug into the sheets as he slowly eased his way in, your walls welcoming the intrusion as he stretched them. You let out a long, low moan as he bottomed out, the bulbous base kissing your entrance and the head of his cock pressing against your cervix. How he even fit inside you was beyond you but it felt even better than you imagined.

Joshua gave you a few moments to adjust before he started moving, setting a slow, steady pace. He had a firm grip on your hips as he thrust into you, the base of his cock hitting your lips with a wet smacking sound. You let out a cry of pleasure as he thrust into you harshly, testing your limits. “Just as warm and tight as I thought, he groaned, picking up the pace.

Each thrust had your toes curling, stars clouding your vision. Pure, unbridled pleasure coursed through you, the aphrodisiac running its course and making you more pliant and increasing your arousal. Joshua’s strength and stamina was a surprise to be sure but he wasn’t human so it wasn’t all too surprising.

“You had a lot to say earlier,” he growled as he wrapped his fingers around your neck from behind and lifted your head, his chest meeting your back as he leaned over you. “But you can’t say anything now. Does it feel good? Do you like how my cock feels inside you?”

You could only mewl and moan in response which only further fueled Joshua’s monologue. “Have I already fucked you dumb, sweetheart?” he panted into your ear, pounding into you from behind. “So pathetic and dumb just from a little bit of alien cock? What a good human slut. Are you gonna be good for me?” he asked, fingers tightening around your neck. You nodded wordlessly, still unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Gonna be a good girl and take it all?” he whispered, holding back a moan as your walls clenched around him. “Mhmm,” you moaned. Joshua let out a growl, hips slamming into you now. The base of his cock was trying to breach your hole and each attempt had you crying out in both pain and pleasure.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Be good and let me in.” With one final thrust, you came, tumbling over the edge as he managed to push the base of his cock into you, locking into place as he came, pumping you full of the same thick milky release you’d seen paint his stomach during the live stream.

“That’s it,” he mumbled as his cock twitched inside you, pumping even more cum. You let out a whine as you felt a slight ache from between your thighs. “Stay still,” Joshua murmured in your ear, his grip on your throat loosening. “Stay still, baby.”

A moan ripped from your throat as you felt the base of his cock start to swell. “What’s that?” you mumbled. You tried to push yourself up but Joshua gently forced you back down. “Just stay still, okay baby? Be good for me.” You did as he asked, receiving praise for your obedience.

After a couple more moments, everything seemed to stop. Chancing a glance downwards, you could see that your lower stomach was slightly distended. Swollen almost. “That was a lot of cum,” Joshua murmured, pressing a couple of soft kisses to your cheek. “But you did so well. Took everything I gave you.” You whined, trying to shift under him but he held your hips still.

“You can’t do that. We’re locked together. If you try to pull away, you’ll only hurt yourself or me. Just stay right there,” he cooed. “What do you mean, locked together?” you asked. “Remember the knot?” he asked softly. You shook your head. “What knot?”

“At the base of my cock is a knot. When I came, I pushed it inside you,” he explained. A brief flash of pain shot through you at the memory. You did remember that. “And then it started to swell,” he continued. “Well, now it’s swollen and locked in place. If I try to pull out, it’ll only hurt. So we have to wait for the swelling to go down before I can pull out,” he added.

You sighed, resting your cheek against the sheets. “How long will that take?” you asked as he gently caressed your thighs, massaging your muscles. “About an hour or so,” he murmured nonchalantly. “An hour?” you asked incredulously, lifting your head. “Mhmm,” he hummed. “About an hour and then you’ll need to go to the bathroom to get all of that out of you,” he added, reaching a hand around to press against your stomach. “And then we can go again,” he said with a smile as he nuzzled against your shoulder.

“I’m not done with you just yet.”

©️ kwanisms 2018 - 2025 | all written and artistic works on this blog are protected under copyright. reposts, continuations, and translations of my works are not permitted. All graphics made by me.

#no like im so serious this is embedded into my brain chemistry forever now wowowowowowowowowowowwww #cherry reads #joshua smut #fave fics!#booki!

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losernb · 2 days ago

Text

Valentine's Day Surprise

Sevika’s never experienced this before. Valentine's Day is a Piltover holiday, there’s no time for stuff like this in Zaun. She never would’ve known about it if she didn’t decide to take you and the girls out for a fun day last week.

Valentine’s Day:

“Look over there!” Jinx points, drawing Isha’s attention to the giant sign. It’s bright pink, covered in a bunch of hearts, and it reads:

Valentine’s Day Sale- All the chocolate, flowers, and plushies a girl could ever want!

Isha’s face lights up with excitement as she reads it. Candy, flowers, and a new teddy bear?! I want them! She signs eagerly towards Jinx..

“You gotta ask Sevika, she’s the one with the money.” Jinx says with a laugh.

Without hesitation, Isha dashes over to where you and Sevika are talking, tugging insistently at Sevika’s sleeve. Sevika looks down at her, brow raised in confusion.

“What’s wrong kid?” Sevika asks, voice hinting with confusion. Isha points to the sign, causing both you and Sevika to turn and look at it. You laugh a little, knowing why she was drawing your attention to it.

“Looks like we know what we’re buying today.” You laugh and pick Isha up, settling her down on your hip and kissing her cheek. She giggles and throws both arms up, letting out a victorious squeal. Sevika rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh, “Alright, c’mon girls let’s go see what this is about.”

The four of you walk into the store, taking in the assortment of flowers and the piles of plushies. Isha and Jinx are mesmerized. Before you can blink, Isha wriggles out of your arms, grabbing Jinx’s hand and dragging her toward the stuffed animals.

“The hell is ‘Valentine’s Day’ anyway?” Sevika asks you, never having heard of it before. You grew up in Zaun as well so you had no clue.

“Maybe we can go ask?” You suggest, walking up to the first worker you see. It’s an older lady who smiles when she sees the two of you. “Hello, what can I do for you lovely ladies?” She asks, smiling warmly.

“Hi, I just wanted to ask what Valentine’s Day is, I saw it on the sign outside.” You reply, offering back a small smile.

The woman lets out a small laugh, “Oh dear, you’ve never heard of Valentine’s Day? Are you new to Piltover?”

You nod. “Yeah, actually. We don’t really have fancy holidays in Zaun—just birthdays and anniversaries, mostly.”

Sevika shifts beside you, resting a hand on your back—a habit of hers whenever she senses something’s off. You glance at her, noticing the subtle furrow in her brow.

Then, the woman’s smile fades. Her expression stiffens, her warmth turning to something colder.

“Oh,” she says, voice suddenly clipped. “Well, it’s a day to celebrate loved ones.” The words feel forced, like an afterthought. “Excuse me, I need to go.” She turns abruptly, walking away without another word.

You turn back to Sevika and understand the look now, she caught the lady’s shift in attitude before you did. You kiss her cheek, as a reminder that everything’s okay. “Cmon Sevi, lets just get our girl and go.” Sevika nods, jaw tight, but says nothing.

You make your way over to Jinx and Isha, who are still enthralled by the plushies.

“Pick out anything you like yet?” You bend down to ask Isha. She’s holding a little brown bear and Jinx is holding a bunny. This one! She signs, putting down the bear to free up her hands.

“Excuse me.”

You turn to see a small man, his posture stiff, a name tag reading Manager pinned to his vest.

“Could you please leave?” His tone is polite, but his expression is anything but.

You don’t need to ask why. The woman from earlier must’ve told him where you’re from. Zaunites aren’t banned from Piltover stores, but some people—especially in places like this—act like they should be.

You sigh, standing up and gently gathering Isha into your arms.

What’s happening? Isha signs, confusion flickering across her face.

“We gotta go, kiddo,” Jinx says with a sigh, patting her back.

Isha deflates against your shoulder, small hands gripping your jacket. Her excitement, her joy—gone in an instant.

Sevika sees it, too. The hurt in Isha’s expression. The way Jinx looks away, lips pressed into a thin line. And something inside her snaps.

She steps forward, towering over the manager. “Yeah? And what exactly is the reason we need to leave?” Her voice is steady, but there’s a sharp edge to it.

The manager swallows, visibly intimidated. “I—I just think it would be best if—”

“Best for who?” Sevika cuts him off. “We were minding our own damn business.”

His gaze flickers between her and you, then to Isha in your arms, her little brown bear still clutched to her chest. He hesitates, but the damage is done.

Sevika clicks her tongue. “Tch. C’mon, let’s go,” she mutters, turning on her heel.

Jinx nudges Isha. “Keep the bear, kid. They owe you.”

Isha nods hesitantly, tightening her hold on it as the four of you leave.

Surprise Set up:

A week had passed since that incident, and Sevika had mostly put it out of her mind, believing it to be a thing of the past. Little did she know, while she was busy in Piltover handling her Councilor duties, you and the girls had been hard at work planning a little surprise.

While you baked the cake and prepared the dinner, Jinx was in charge of the decorations and Isha sat at the table, her tongue poking out in concentration as she scribbled on a card.

“Isha! The cake is done cooling, do you wanna help me decorate it?” You called out to her.

There was no verbal response—just the rapid pat-pat-pat of Isha’s little feet racing toward the kitchen. She crashed into your legs at full speed, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Whoa—!” You let out a startled yelp, catching yourself on the counter.

“Slow down, you little tornado. Almost made me drop the cake.” She just nods in understanding before grabbing the stool, the one that was exclusively hers since she was the shortest, and drags it over.

You leave Isha to do her own little thing, knowing it’ll be messy but heartfelt. With her focused on the cake, you wandered into the living room to check on Jinx’s progress.

Your jaw nearly dropped.

Jinx had outdone herself—balloons, streamers, and paper hearts covered the room. Candles flickered on various surfaces, their soft glow giving the space a warm, golden hue.

“You seem to really enjoy this, huh?” You nudge Jinx’s shoulder. She chuckles, admitting, “Yeah, its fun to be asked to spice up a room instead of just vandalizing it.” You grinned and pulled her into a quick hug. “It looks amazing. She’s gonna love it.”

Jinx smirked but looked away, pretending not to care too much. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Once everything was set, you plated dinner and let the girls eat even though Sevika wasn’t home yet. You knew better than to wait—whenever she had meetings, she always came home late.

After dinner, you put on a movie, intending to wait up for her. But before it even reached the halfway mark, the three of you had melted into a sleepy pile on the couch—tangled together in a mess of limbs, warmth, and slow breathing.

Sevika’s Arrival:

The front door creaked open softly. Sevika stepped inside, moving quietly in case you and the girls were already asleep. Sometimes, she found you curled up on the couch, waiting for her with a book in hand.

That was what she’d been hoping for.

Instead, what she saw made her stop in her tracks.

Balloons. Candles. Paper hearts covering the walls.

She blinked, wondering if exhaustion was playing tricks on her. But no—it was real.

Slowly, she walked toward the dining table. A full meal sat waiting for her, along with a very wonky-looking cake and a single handmade card.

She already knew whose handiwork the cake was.

With a quiet chuckle, she picked up the card and opened it.

Inside was a drawing—your little makeshift family. Jinx and Isha in the middle, Sevika on the left, you on the right. It was messy, colorful, imperfect, and completely perfect.

At the top, in bold, sloppy handwriting, it read:

Happy Valintinez Day!

Sevika swallowed hard, her chest tightening. Her vision blurred slightly. She hadn’t expected this. Not after the way that stupid Piltover store had turned you all away like you were less. Not after she’d spent years thinking she wasn’t someone people would celebrate, let alone love.

A quiet sniffle escaped her. She tried to muffle it, rubbing at her eyes, but the sound must have woken you.

Blinking groggily, you lifted your head from the couch, scanning the room until your eyes landed on her.

Sevika stood frozen by the table, her back to you, shoulders trembling just slightly.

You nudged the girls off you gently before getting up and walking toward her.

“Hey,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around her from behind. “What’s wrong, love? Shitty meeting again?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she turned around, cupped your face in her hands, and kissed you—soft, slow, and deep.

When she pulled away, her forehead rested against yours. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

You smiled, brushing away the stray tears that clung to her lashes. “Oh, you big softie,” you teased, tugging her toward the couch. “C’mere.”

You shifted Jinx and Isha just enough to make space, then pulled Sevika down with you. Isha stirred slightly, snuggling into Sevika’s side while Jinx grumbled in her sleep before draping an arm over both of you.

Sevika sighed, her arms instinctively wrapping around the girls, keeping them close.

“I love you guys so much,” she whispered, like it was something sacred. Something she’d never dared say before.

You pressed a kiss to her cheek before resting your head on her shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

“We love you too,” you murmured.

Sevika glanced down at the small, sleeping faces tucked against her, at the mess of decorations still scattered around the room. Her heart was full in a way she didn’t think possible.

She pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before letting sleep take her, safe and warm in the only place she’d ever truly belonged.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this T^T. I would've posted this earlier but I had to go to work lol

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY POOKS <3

#arcane #sevika #sevika fanfic #fanfic #sevika x reader #jinx #jinx and isha #sevika and isha #isha is alive #valentines day #happy valentines #arcane fanfic

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justauthoring · 24 hours ago

Text

This is the Beginning [4/?]

Summary: You never thought you'd be able to escape Buggy, and yet, a boy with a straw hat, a man with three swords and a girl with orange hair somehow manage to free you. The journey that follows afterwards is your chance at freedom and maybe something more.

A One Piece Live Action Rewrite

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Pairing: Live Action!Zoro Roronoa x F!Reader

TW for this chapter: canon typical violence, bits of jealous!zoro, that's really all!

Word Count: 9,323

A/N: Well, we made it! We caught up to seaon one of OPLA! Unfortunately, that means this series will be taking a hiatus until the new season comes out since it is a rewrite. But! I might do little bonus chapters and bonding moments!!

I have started watching the anime, so I know the general direction the live action will probably follow. If you guys would like bonus chapters, let me know!

Tag List: @emmaiscool22 - @bethleeham - @veryunoriginal - @sun-rae04 - @medievalfangirl - @sylum - @academiq

Chapter Four - This is It

“Y/N! My old friend!”

Before you can even register the fact that Buggy is talking to you, a body steps in front of you, fully blocking you from view. The expanse of Zoro’s broad shoulders is the only thing you can see as he glares down at Buggy; “don’t talk to her.”

Buggy just laughs, loud and mocking. “Yeah?” He taunts, “and what are you going to do about it? Bleed on me?”

You can see the tension build in Zoro, muscles tensing and his shoulders raising with every word Buggy throws at him.

You don’t blame him. You still remember when Luffy had all but dropped the fact that during their fight with Arlong and Nami’s betrayal, they’d reunited with Buggy, or rather the head of Buggy. It was made ten times worse when Luffy also elected to inform you that Buggy was coming with you all and helping you to Arlong’s island, as part of a deal he’d made with the pirate. He told you the two of them had made it in return for his navigation to the island, he’d get his body back.

And even though Luffy had assured you he wouldn’t let Buggy try and pull anything on you, you still felt uneasy about him being onboard.

You had no doubt that Buggy’s intentions were not as pure as he was making them out to be. He had something up his sleeve, or at the very least, he would betray you all. At one point or another.

Still, it didn’t matter because you were stuck for him for now. It wasn’t up to just you and you did need him, at least to find where Arlong and Nami had gone. And after spending the first day refusing to go up onto deck in fear of having to face Buggy, your once captain and long-time tormentor, you were sick of hiding away. You’d decided to go up on deck, especially after Zoro had shown concern with you hiding away. Buggy only had his head, after all, so despite saying whatever he wanted, he couldn’t do much.

You try to remind yourself of that.

Your attempt at not being seen, however, had failed the second you’d made your way up to the deck as Buggy had clocked your arrival instantly.

Ignoring the racing of your heart, you reach forward, setting your hand on Zoro’s arm. He pauses at the touch, looking as if he was ready to just kill Buggy and be done with it. He turns his head around to glance down at you, and you send him a reassuring smile.

You remind yourself that you were with a crew of people who cared about you deeply and no one was going to let Buggy hurt you in any way. Not to mention, you’d grown yourself. You weren’t the same girl Buggy had spent years tormenting; you could stand up for yourself now, especially if you had your friends by your side.

He looks like he wants to argue, but still, Zoro doesn’t fight you when you step out from behind him, turning your eye on Buggy.

“I’m not your friend, Buggy. And I never was,” you say, voice firm in your defiance. “And don’t think that I don’t know all your tricks. If you even try to betray us, I’ll—”

“You’ll do nothing!” Buggy laughs, loud and piercing. “Just like you never did back on my crew! You always were too helpless for your own good. All it took was that cage and—”

It doesn’t take you much to figure out what he was implying with his words and it leaves an unpleasant taste in your mouth, thinking back to that horrible cage. However, he doesn’t get the chance to finish.

Zoro is crossing the distance over to Buggy in seconds. Usopp, who’d been standing at the helm, steering with Buggy’s degrading instructions, looks all too pleased as Zoro grabs Buggy by the top of his head, lifting him off the barrel he’d been set on. You, however, look concerned, wanting nothing more than Zoro to actually just get rid of Buggy but you knew you needed him to get to Nami.

“Woah! Woah! Woah! Wait!” Buggy pleads almost instantly, words coming out in a rushed panic. “I was just joking!” He tries to excuse himself, and your eyes widen as Zoro moves him so he’s hanging over the edge of the ship. Buggy’s voice rises in terror. “I was joking! Y/N knows I was joking! Don’t you, Y/N—”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Zoro cuts in, voice sharp. “You don’t talk to Y/N.”

Biting your lip, you stare at Zoro’s back. You knew, obviously after the conversation the two of you had had, that Zoro cared about you but seeing him so openly defend you made your heart flutter in ways you didn’t know it could.

“You don’t look at her. Or bother her in any way. Is that clear?”

“Yes, yes,” Buggy rushes, voice a blur of desperation. “I won’t bother Y/N!”

“And if this is just another one of your tricks… or you leading us into a trap. Then…”

“Zoro, buddy!” Buggy laughs, “honour amongst pirates. Right? Come on. How about I sing a nice sea shanty to pass the time.”

Sighing, you press your hand to your forehead.

“Oh, there once was a girl with tangerine hair…”

Buggy continues, but a shared look back at you and Usopp makes Zoro’s decision for him easy. Turning around, he makes his way back up to the helm, where Usopp waits with the lid of a barrel topped off.

Zoro doesn’t hesitate to drop Buggy right inside.

“Ow! God, right on my nose!”

Whatever else he’d been about to say is muffled as Usopp quickly places the top of the barrel back on.

Usopp turns back to you. “I hate clowns.”

Huffing a laugh, you nod your head, instantly eased at his silence. “Me too.”

Making his way back over to you, Zoro dusts off his hands, as if disgusted that Buggy had even been anywhere near him. You glance past him, making sure Usopp wasn’t paying attention anymore, before you reach for Zoro, smiling up at him.

“Thank you for defending me,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Zoro smirks, confident by your praise, but you see the soft flush to his cheeks. “It was a long time coming,” he shrugs, “I hate that clown.” He pauses, briefly, as if unsure of his own words. “Especially for how he treated you.”

The words, despite what they mean, pull a smile to your lips. Your grip on him tightens, and you lean into his embrace. Slowly, Zoro’s arm comes to rest around your shoulders, and you’re reminded of how new all of this still is. The two of you had only confessed your feelings a little bit ago and the two of you were still trying to maneuver those changes; especially since everything else was also still new.

It was hard to believe it had only been a few short weeks since Luffy, Zoro and Nami saved you from Buggy and you joined them on their adventure. Finding Usopp, fighting Kuro and the Black Cat crew, then arriving at the Baratie, Nami’s betrayal and Sanji joining you… so much had happened in such a short amount of time. A part of you wondered if Zoro and you had moved too quickly into something beyond just a friendship, but then you feel the bandages across his chest on the skin of your cheek and you remember how close he’d been to dying.

Even if most would consider it quick, you didn’t want to waste a moment when you could lose him or he could lose you at any time.

Besides, he and the rest of the crew were stuck with you now. There would be plenty of time to work out the kinks.

“It’s okay,” you reassure Zoro. “I won’t lie and say what Buggy had done to me still doesn’t… haunt me. But, I’m not as scared as I thought I’d be when Luffy said he made a deal with him. Especially because now I have you guys. Because I have you.”

Zoro shifts and you pull back, giving him the room to lean back so he can meet your eye properly. A man of action as always, he raises his left hand, brushing back your hair to cup your cheek and presses a gentle kiss against your lips. It’s quick, the touch of his lips hovering for what feels like far too short, before he’s pulling back, smiling at you.

“I should talk to Luffy.” He says a moment later, “figure out our plan for when we find Nami and Arlong.”

You nod, finally letting your hands fall to your sides as you watch him walk away, sending one last warm look back at you. Your heart is still fluttering, even as he gets further and further away, feeling hot and weak at the same time.

“Someone’s down bad.”

Blinking, you turn around, finding Usopp staring down at you with the widest shit-eating grin on his lips.

Cheeks warming, you shake yourself out of your stupor, making your way up the stairs over to him. “Ha-ha,” you huff, but the smile on your lips is fond.

Usopp just giggles. “Seriously,” he teases, “the two of you barely notice the people around you when you’re together.”

Coming to a stop next to him, you lightly nudge him with your shoulder. “Haven’t you teased me enough?” You whine, pouting, as your eyes glimmer with mischief at him. “The second Luffy told you what he saw, you haven’t let me off the hook.”

“It’s too fun,” Usopp shrugs, turning his gaze ahead to continue steering the ship. “You always get so embarrassed.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you raise a brow. “I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you, Usopp.”

“Oh?” He challenges, “and why’s that?”

“Because you forget I saw you and Kaya,” you smirk, watching as the smile on his lips falls and is replaced by a bright red across his cheeks. “If you want to talk about two people smitten…—”

“Okay, okay! I won’t tease you anymore!”

You turn to Usopp, his face turning bright red as he wildly shakes his hands in front of him. It pulls a laugh from your lips, loud and warm, enough to pull Usopp from his own reverie as he blinks back at you.

Turning your gaze back ahead, you soften your smile; “I’m happy for you, Usopp. And I know you’ll see her one day again.”

Shoulders easing, Usopp grabs hold of the helm again and grins to himself. “Thanks,” he says earnestly, “and I’m happy for you too. You and Zoro.”

You squeeze his arm in return, smile infectious, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence with one another for a few minutes.

Then, you catch sight of something ahead.

“Usopp,” you call, shaking his own arm before pointing ahead of yourself. “Look!”

He leans forward, eyes squinting. “I don’t see anything,” he mumbles, confused.

You frown; “you don’t see the island up ahead?”

“How do you…” Usopp frowns, but his voice trails, squinting even more before he pulls back in realization. “Wait. I see it!”

Instantly, he cups his hands around his mouth, breathing in sharply so yell out to the three at the front of the ship; “land ho!”

Walking behind Zoro, you frown at the sight of the village in front of you. In a lot of ways, it uncomfortably reminds you of the village Buggy had destroyed; the one Luffy had saved.

It’s desolate. Any sign of happiness that probably flooded these homes is gone, without a trace of it ever exiting. It makes your chest tight and your heart sinks.

You slow to a stop when you notice the rest of your crew doing the same, turning to the left and your lips part when you see what’s caught their attention.

“This is terrible,” you breathe, pressing a hand to your lips as you stare back at the flipped upside down house.

Zoro eyes you, before turning to the house; “never seen that before.”

“What could have done this?” Sanji asks, brows furrowed in bafflement.

Usopp hovers next to you, shuffling on his feet. “Maybe I should head back… make sure the Merry’s secure.”

Without hesitation, you reach for Usopp, squeezing his arm. He turns to you, the fear in his gaze apparent.

But before you can say anything to reassure him, Luffy speaks up;

“Arlong did this.”

His voice is unusually low, tinged with rage. You stare back at him with surprise.

“Hey, shit-hat!” Buggy calls, voice muffled through the bag Sanji is currently carrying him in. “I think we can all agree that Arlong’s a bad fish. But why don’t we quit lollygagging and get my body back?”

You scoff, “as if we should hurry for your sake.” Letting your gaze drag across the village once more, you frown. “This is no different than anything you’ve done before. Same innocent people being hurt, just different pirates.”

Sanji’s eyes fall on you, and you figure it’s because he’s the only one on the crew that doesn’t know how Luffy had found you. Sure, Usopp hadn’t been there, but he’d heard bits and pieces of it and probably was able to piece it all together. Sanji, who’d just joined, wouldn’t know. All he knew was you’d once been on Buggy’s crew.

You avoid his gaze.

“Come on, Y/N! I certainly wasn’t as bad as—”

“Pipe down in there!” Sanji cuts him off, for your sake more than anyone else's.

“Or what?” Buggy huffs. “You gonna whip me up a souffle?”

Dropping the bag, Sanji sighs, gesturing to Usopp. “How about you take him for a while?”

“Ooh,” Usopp breathes, shaking his head. “New guy carries the clown head.”

Feeling bad for the guy, you step forward, reaching for the bag. “Here, Sanji, I can—”

“Absolutely not—”

“It’s okay, Y/N, I’ve got it—”

Both Zoro and Sanji speak at the same time, and almost instantly, the two turn to each other with glares.

“Y/N is not carrying that clown head,” Zoro growls, shifting beside you.

“I agree,” Sanji bites out, shouldering the bag again before turning to you with a smile. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I got it under control.”

You hesitate, frowning, but seeing the smile on his lips and the way Zoro continues to glare at the cook, you decide to let it go. “Okay,” you shrug, “if you’re sure.”

The five of you continue to make your way, picking up the pace in your step when you see a group of people up ahead.

“Everyone! Please!”

The man speaking stands at the front of the crowd, holding a box. His expression is grim.

“We don’t have much time,” he continues. “And we’re short again this month.”

You frown when you watch a man step up, dumping a handful of Berry into the box.

That sinking feeling floods your stomach again.

“Is it enough?”

With a frown, the man at the front shakes his head slowly.

“Do we have time to get some more?”

“No.”

Your back straightens, recognizing that voice.

Sure enough, the crowd splits instantly, and you see Nami step through.

“You don’t,” she says, slowly making her way through the crowd.

Luffy steps forward, as if to go to her. Zoro stops him.

A woman with blue hairs steps right up to Nami, face twisted with rage. “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face here.” Nami doesn’t say anything in return, even when the woman spits right at her feet.

She walks off a second later, your eyes follow her.

A moment of silence passes, then, Nami turns her attention back to the man with the donation box. “Got something for me?”

Slowly, he hands over the box.

It takes Nami one look; “you’re short.”

“Nami, please,” the man begs. “This is all we have. Arlong has bled us dry.”

“Then find more blood.”

Swallowing thickly, the sight breaks your heart. There was no way Nami could actually be this… heartless, right?

The man walks off as does the rest of the crowd. Nami, with the donation box still in hand, lets her gaze wander, freezing the second she catches sight of the five of you.

She makes her way over in seconds flat.

“Luffy?” She calls, voice sharp. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same thing.”

“This is where I belong.”

Luffy shakes his head, “I don’t believe that. This is not you.”

“No,” she argues. “This isn’t the me you want me to be.”

“Nami…” Luffy calls, voice soft. He steps towards her. “If you need our help—”

“No, I don’t need any of you.”

You flinch at that, watching as her eyes dance across the five of you. When her eyes meet yours, she’s quick to look away.

“Arlong wanted the map,” she explains, “and I conned you into getting it for me. And you bought it. I was never part of your stupid crew.”

“You don’t mean that.”

For the splittest of seconds, Nami’s face wavers. You see it, watch it happen, but it’s gone before you can do anything about it. It feels like you’re the only one who does see it.

“Take the rest of these clowns and sail away from here,” she spits. “I never want to see you again.”

She spins around, moving to walk off. You instinctively move to walk after her, knowing what you saw and not ready to give up, but Zoro grabs your hand, tightening his grip. Turning to him, his expression is sympathetic for you but firm; she won’t listen.

Usopp huffs behind you; “okay, that went about as bad as it could. So back to the boat before the fishmen find us? Sail the hell out of here? Okay.”

Sanji shakes his head; “there’s something else going on here.”

“I think she was very clear she wants us to leave,” Zoro argues.

“You don’t know women,” Sanji instantly rebuts, “they never say what they mean.”

You blink, “well, I—”

“Tell me again why the cook gets a say.” Zoro huffs, turning to face Sanji.

“Don’t you guys get it,” Usopp cuts in, and you watch as the three of them circle around each other, bickering. All while Luffy remains standing where Nami left him. “She’s one of them. She’s a bad guy. The villagers are terrified of her.”

Raising your voice, you step forward and interrupt them before any of them can speak. “The look on her face was off,” you explain, remembering exactly what you’d seen. Turning to Zoro, you look back at him determined. “I know what she said, Zoro, but she looked like she was this close to breaking down. Sanji is right, there is something more going on here. I’m sure of it.”

Zoro, who looks put out that you’re siding with Sanji, steps towards you. “Y/N, I know that you don’t want it to be true but Nami…” He hesitates, seeing the look on your face. “Usopp is right. The villagers were scared. Of her.”

Face falling, you can’t deny that.

“Not all of them,” Luffy says, speaking up for the first time. You turn around to face him, but he steps forward before you can ask what he meant. “Hey! Scar guy.”

Only chancing one more glance back at Zoro, you quickly follow after Luffy.

“Who was that girl?” Luffy asks the man who’d been collecting the donations. “You know, the one with the cool hair?”

The man eyes you five. “Who wants to know?”

“I’m Monkey D. Luffy,” Luffy introduces, voice serious. “I’m a pirate—”

“—Hunter,” Zoro cuts in quickly. Hands shoved into his pockets, he steps up beside Luffy. “Pirate hunter. We’re here to collect Arlong’s bounty.”

Sensing the apprehension on the man’s face, you think that was definitely a smart save on Zoro’s part.

The man just raises a brow. “You? I’ve seen men twice your size and with twice your number go into Arlong Park. None of them ever came back.”

Luffy smiles. “We just want to talk to her.”

“Trust me,” the man argues, “you don’t. But if it’ll get you out of my town, try the house down that road, on the edge of the tangerine grove.”

“I don’t know how you do it.”

Jumping at the voice, you turn around, easing when you see it’s just Nojiko.

Turns out that girl with the cool hair, as Luffy had dubbed her, was Nami’s sister. After managing to convince her into talking to you with the promise of a home-cooked meal, Sanji had whipped her and the rest of you up a meal. It was only then Nojiko had agreed to tell you the story of how her and Nami’s mother had died because of Arlong, who’d taken control of this island eight years ago. And how Nami was now working for him.

The story had left the five of you all upset in your own ways. When Usopp had solidified the fact that Nami really was working for her mother’s killer, the air in the house had thickened with tension.

You’d stay for a while, but after Buggy had insisted on being let out of the bag to the point Sanji had been forced to do so, you’d taken your leave. Luffy, and then Zoro who had gone after him, had left the second Nojiko finished telling you everything and you hadn’t heard from them since. You figured it was best to give them space, so you’d chosen to wander through the tangerine grove right by Nojiko’s house.

When Nojiko had found you.

Meeting Nojiko’s eyes, you glance at her inquisitively.

“Deal with being stuck with four men,” she laughs lightly. “Especially on a ship. I’d go crazy.”

You smile back at her, snorting. “You get used to it.” Then, smile wavering just faintly, you can’t help but add; “it was easier, too. With… you know, Nami.” Hugging yourself, you glance at your feet. “It was nice having her onboard with us. Nice being her friend, if she ever thought of me as one.”

Nojiko doesn’t respond, probably not sure how to. Still, she offers a gentle and sympathetic smile in return. It’s clear she understands in her own way.

“Are you okay?” You ask, gesturing back to the house. “Sanji didn’t say anything, right? He’s a flirt and never means anything by it, but I’ll kick him for you if he makes you uncomfortable.”

Letting out a sharp laugh, Nojiko shakes her head. “He didn’t say anything,” she reassures with a wave of her hand. “I just needed some air. I was… I was actually planning on visiting her grave.”

Your lips part; “your mother’s?”

She nods.

You hesitate, glancing back at the far stretch of the tangerine grove and then back at Nojiko. You decide to just ask what’s on your mind. “Could I come with you?”

She seems shocked by our question, eyes widening and brows furrowing.

“Only if you don’t mind,” you assure, shaking your hands at her. “I just… Just thought maybe you’d like a friend. And, well… I know what it’s like to lose a mother.”

Face easing, Nojiko frowns; “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “It was a long time ago.”

Nodding slowly, Nojiko shrugs; “you can come then. And we can send a prayer to both of our mothers.”

Your smile brightens at that, worrying easing from your body as you nod at her. She returns the smile with ease and the two of you begin walking, Nojiko leading the way. The grave isn't that far away, so it doesn’t take you long before Nojiko is informing you you’re close.

“Just around this…—”

But her voice trails as you both hear… grunting? She glances back at you, worried, and you mimic her expression, rushing forward. You worry it’s someone from Arlong’s crew, heart sinking at what they could possibly be doing.

Only, it’s Nami you find.

You hesitate, feet freezing, but blind with anger at the realization of what Nami was doing, Nojiko rushes forward. “How dare you,” she hisses out, barely able to contain the anger in her voice. “It’s not enough that you’re working for our mother’s killer, but now you’re desecrating her grave too?”

You notice at the same time Nami does, her calling out for Nojiko, as the latter grabs the shovel next to the digged hole, swinging it back behind her to hit Nami.

Racing forward, you grab the handle of the shovel before Nojiko can swing it down just as Nami flinches back with a scream.

Nami’s eyes zone in on you; “Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?”

Meeting her gaze, your lips part; “I…—”

“Never mind that,” Nojiko spits, and she lowers her hands when you step back, but doesn’t let go of the shovel, looking ready to try and hit Nami again. “I can’t believe you would do this!”

Nami only glances at you once more, hesitating, before turning back to Nojiko; “it’s not what you think.”

Nojiko goes to swing the shovel again, and you move to grab her, but don’t reach in time.

“You have no idea what I think!”

Nami’s name leaves your lips in a shrill cry and she just narrowly misses the edge of the shovel smacking her across the face, falling back. Instead of Nami, Nojiko hits the chest right next to the hole.

Bills and coins of Berry come pouring out of it.

Panting, Nojiko shakes her head; “what’s this?” She slowly turns to Nami. “Is this the money that you stole? And you’re hiding it next to our mother’s body?”

Confused and bewildered and definitely feeling like you’re encroaching on a moment between sisters you shouldn’t be, you remain silent, taking a step back.

“Nami,” Nojiko whispers, “what kind of monster are you?”

“You don’t understand,” Nami cries.

“Then make me understand.”

Her eyes flicker between you and Nojiko, unsure, before she focuses all of her attention on Nojiko.

“I’ve been stealing this money because of a deal with Arlong I made,” she starts, moving to crawl out of the hole and grab her bag. “I told Arlong I’d work for him on one condition. That he let me buy back Coco Village. And he said he would for a hundred million Berry.”

“A hundred million?” You echo, unable to stop yourself. “That would take a lifetime.”

Nami shakes her head, reaching for Nojiko. “I have the money,” she explains. “All of it. And now I can buy the freedom of the village and everyone in it.”

Seeing the look on Nojiko’s face, you inhale sharply, turning. It occurs to you should give them a moment alone. This news was shocking enough to you, you couldn’t imagine how Nojiko, who’s obviously hated Nami for the past eight years, would feel. Sending the two of them a gentle smile, you walk off, moving to the edge of the woods.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you think about what Nami had said.

That look you’d seen her eyes, the one only you had seemed to be able to notice, made so much more sense now. None of this had been of Nami’s own volition or choice. And for the past eight years she’d been forced to work for and do the bidding of a man who’d killed her mother and threatened her family and friends.

The thought made you sick. You couldn’t imagine what Nami’s been forced to endure.

Minutes pass of you stuck in your thoughts, until you catch something through the foliage of the forest. It gives you pause, head turning in the direction as you squint, trying to figure out what you’d seen.

When you catch sight of a familiar white and blue uniform, your heart drops.

“Nami, Nojiko!” You call, rushing over to them as you reach for Nami’s chest of Berry. Nami stands at the sight, the conversation between her and Nojiko cut short as she assumes the worst of what you’re doing.

“What are you—”

“We don’t have time,” you cut her off, staring at her with panic in your eye. “The Marines, they’re—”

“Already here.”

Lips left parted, you, Nami and Nojiko’s heads snap round, back in the direction you’d come from, bodies freezing at the sight of a line up of Marines stopping in front of you.

“A shame to interrupt such a touching moment,” the lieutenant Marine offers, voice not at all sympathetic. “I’ve heard that pirates are stashing their plunder in this area. You three wouldn’t happen to know anything about that?”

Feet frozen in place, you eye the back of Nami and Nojiko, before shifting your attention back to the lieutenant. This was bad. Very bad. There was no way to hide Nami’s stash, especially not when it was clear it was exactly what the Marines were already looking for.

“That’s obviously been stolen,” the Marine lieutenant comments, eyeing Nami’s money. “By the authority of the Marines and the World Government, I'm going to have to confiscate it.”

“No,” Nami gasps. “No, you can’t do that. It’s mine!”

“A hundred million Berry?” The lieutenant raises a brow, “and where would you get that much money?”

“Nami got that money fair and square,” you hiss, stepping forward as you glare at the man. “You have no right to take it from her.”

“No right?” The lieutenant laughs, loud and mocking. “I have the right as a Marine lieutenant, silly girl.”

“Wait,” Nami cuts in, breathless, before you can speak, as if having realized something. “How did you know it was a hundred…” But her voice trails, and a glance back at her tells you she’s figured it out.

“Arlong put you up to this, didn’t he?”

Your lips part, gasping.

“I… I don’t know what you mean,” the lieutenant shrugs. Then, he shifts, nodding at the men behind him. They listen instantly.

Nami and you both start. She reaches for her bag, trying to grab her weapon, but the Marines are too quick. Two of them flank her, grabbing her by the arm. You growl at the sight, stepping forward to help, but then the men that had been standing to the left of the lieutenant step towards you.

“Watch yourself. Or we will take you into custody as well.”

Past their shoulders you can see the Marine officers holding Nami shove her to the ground. Rage floods you, and you move towards her, but you’re blocked by more officers. Instantly, they go to grab you, but you dodge their grasps, trying to slither past them. You make it past one, reaching for Nami and then a sharp sting radiates across your cheek.

You trip over your feet at the impact, stunned, falling to your knees as your hand hovers across your cheek in shock, staring up at the officer who’d punched you. He stares down at you, unbothered. His hand rests on his baton, as if baiting you to try again.

Nami, who’d watched the whole display, continues to thrash and fight the hands that hold her down.

“No!” She screams when she sees them grabbing her Berry. “You can’t do this. You can’t do this!”

Cheek stinging and eyes watering in despair, you watch the Marines grab her money all while Nami screams, helpless to do anything. They take it all, not leaving a single Berry behind, and not offering even a glance at Nami who cries out for them to stop.

When the officers let her go and walk off, Nami instantly moves to get back up. Nojiko, who’d seemed frozen in the spot until then, grabs her. “Wait, Nami,” she pleads. “Stop! Wait. Wait!”

“Let me go!” Nami cries, fighting her sister's grip. “Let me go! They can’t do this!”

“Nami,” you breathe, staring at her in shock.

“There’s nothing you can do!” Nojiko tries.

But Nami doesn’t listen to her.

“Arlong will kill the entire village!” She bellows, voice pitching in distress, finally breaking free from Nojiko’s grip and running off in the opposite direction of the Marine’s and instead towards the village.

“Nami, wait!” Nojiko begs, screaming after her.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you wipe your tears, grabbing Nojiko’s hand and pulling her eyes on you.

There’s only one thing that can help her now. Or rather, people.

“Nojiko. Nojiko, listen to me,” you pant, tugging on her hand. Her eyes fall on you, wild and terrified. “We need to get Luffy and the rest. They can help! I promise!”

Chest rising and falling and breathless, Nojiko inhales sharply, trying to calm herself.

“Okay.”

Never letting go of her hand, you pull her along, the two of you take off in the direction you’d first come from. Nojiko’s house is closer than the rest of the village, separated off, so it doesn’t take either of you very long to get back to their house and your friends. The two of you break through the tangerine grove, breathless and panicked, and Zoro and Luffy who had been up on the roof see you instantly.

“Y/N?” Zoro calls, concerned. Him and Luffy glance at each other briefly before quickly climbing down the roof. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

Zoro’s voice must’ve caught the attention of Usopp and Sanji because they come running out of the house too,

“What’s going on?” Usopp asks.

“Y/N?” Sanji’s gaze instantly zones in on you, taking in your distressed state. “And Nojiko? Are you—”

Luffy and Zoro come to a stop in front of the both of you.

Nojiko, unable to catch her voice, shakes her head. “Nami, she’s…” But a cough wracks through her body, exhausted after everything from the Marine’s, trying to stop Nami and then running.

Zoro zones in on you then, catching sight of your face. “Y/N, your cheek,” he breathes, voice low as he reaches for you, cupping your jaw to pull your gaze up on him. His eyes flood with anger when he gets a better look at your red and stinging cheek. “Who did—”

Resting your hand over his, you shake your head. “It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss, and cut him off quickly before he can argue. “We have to help Nami. Arlong… Arlong is going to destroy the village!”

“What?” Usopp squeaks, “he’s coming here?”

“Is it because the village was short on money?” Sanji frowns.

Meeting Nojiko’s eyes, you both frown. “Nami had a deal with Arlong,” you explain, shifting from Zoro to Luffy. His face is serious, and he listens to you carefully. “He betrayed her. The Marine’s stole her money and now Arlong is going to destroy the village. We have to help them. We have to help Nami!”

“Please,” Nojiko pleads beside you. “Please.”

Zoro steps towards you, and you turn to him, barely noticing the way your eyes are watering. He frowns down at you, before turning to Luffy.

“Nojiko, stay here. Y/N.” You turn back to him, breathing in. “Lead the way,” Luffy says, voice sharp.

Meeting his eyes, you nod.

Walking past Luffy, you fall to your knees next to Nami.

She starts at the sight of you, teary-eyed and gasping, but you just smile gently at her. Shifting your bag, you pull out the bandages in there. You’d originally grabbed them for Zoro, but staring at her bleeding arm, you figure it was best her wounds were cleaned and wrapped.

“Here,” you say softly, slowly grabbing her arm. You hesitate, not wanting to startle her, but she doesn’t flinch away when you reach for her. Comforted at the action, you grab the cloth you’d also pulled out, wiping at the blood.

“I can clean it better later,” you explain, “but for now.”

She doesn’t respond, and you let her remain silent, incapable of understanding what she could possibly be going through in that moment.

The two of you sit in silence, away from the boys as they figure out how they’re going to go up against Arlong. Nami watches as you bandage her, and you do so without saying anything. Truthfully, you don’t know what you could say. Your heart broke for her and the villagers and every sting of betrayal you’d felt before is gone.

Now, you only feel guilt for having ever doubted her.

“There,” you whisper, doing the last loop of the bandage.

Nami glances down at her arm and she ponders it for a while, before;

“Thank you.”

Lips parting, your head snaps up, blinking.

“Back there, with the Marines,” she points at your cheek. “You tried to stop them.”

“Oh,” you frown, “you don’t have to thank me. I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them then.”

Blinking back her tears, Nami’s face falls.

“Luffy will be able to stop Arlong, Nami,” you smile at her, taking a leap and squeezing her arm. She straightens at the touch, but her gaze is warm as she looks back at you. “We’ll help you. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

Her eyes fall shut, a single tear escaping her defences as she leans towards you.

“Thank you.”

“I can fight.”

“We’ve hardly done any training—”

“Zoro,” you huff, balling your hands into fists at your side. “I want to help.”

He eyes you, frowning. “I know you do, but Arlong’s men are strong.”

Mildly insulted, despite knowing he was right, and frustrated, you glare up at him. “I’m helping. You can’t stop me.”

Clearly frustrated himself, Zoro presses a hand to his face. “You don’t even have a weapon.”

“Nojiko gave me a gun,” you counter, grabbing the rifle from the wall you’d set it against, and holding it up to him to see. “She taught me the basics of how to use it. I probably won’t be as good of a shot as Usopp, but I can still try.”

Breathing in sharply, Zoro glances back at the crew, noticing the way they’re getting ready to go. Turning back to you, he steps towards you, cupping your cheeks. “I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

Wrapping your hands around him in return, you smile, “I know. Because I don’t want you to get hurt too.” Squeezing his hands, you look up at him reassuringly. “I’ll stay back and not put myself in danger. But I want to help Nami. Don’t ask me to stay behind when she’s my friend too. That’s not what we promised each other.”

Sighing, Zoro knows you’re right. “You stay away from the thick of it,” he orders, voice serious. “And if you need my help, call for me. I’ll come to you right away.”

Biting your lip, you smile. “I promise,” you assure, nodding. “The second I’m in danger, I’ll call for you. Only you.”

Cheeks flushing, Zoro rolls his eyes. “As long as you promise.”

Despite losing sight of Usopp in the mess, you think you’re doing a fairly good job.

Obviously, Sanji and Zoro were taking down most of the men, but you can proudly say you’ve at least gotten a few really good shots. There was even the time you’d shot down a guy that had been gunning straight for Zoro, to which he’d smirked back at you in response.

The pride you’d felt was imminent.

Just like how you’d been able to see the island before anyone else back on the boat, or how you’d seen the Marines coming through the thick forest foliage, your left eye was able to catch sight of Arlong’s man easily. And even though you were still rocky with the gun itself, your eye helped you see things you’d never been able to before.

You’ve never seen things so clearly.

Taking one last shot at one of Arlong’s men and watching him crash to the ground, you straighten up from behind the rock you’d perched yourself behind. You couldn’t see Zoro and Sanji from where you were and a quick glance across the park told you you’d all (mainly them) managed to take out most of Arlong’s men.

Standing to your feet, you climb down the rocks and head in the direction you thought you’d last seen Sanji and Zoro go in. Despite being further back, you’d watched them argue the entire time they’d been fighting, so you figured checking on them was probably the best idea.

Sure enough, eventually you can hear their muffled voices arguing. You follow the sound, coming around a broken down stand, only to come crashing into someone.

You stumble back, blinking, until your eye lands on the familiar sight of Buggy. With his body.

Your grip instantly tightens on your gun, while his lips stretch into a wide grin.

“Sorry, my Angel Eye,” he laughs and you hiss at the sound of that nickname, stepping towards him. He holds his hands up as he wiggles his fingers at you in a mocking goodbye. “I’d love to catch up but I gotta go!”

He runs past you in the next second before you even have a second to blink, and your hand twitches, wanting to stop him. But honestly, the thought occurs to you it might just be best to let him go; if he was gone, then at least you didn’t have to see him and listen to his grating voice any longer.

You also don’t know at that moment if you were strong enough to kill him. Not in the physical sense, but… mental.

Shaking your head, you let the thought leave you, focusing back on finding Zoro and Sanji.

Figures he’d betray you guys anyways.

Scoffing, you continue making your way forward, face easing when you see Zoro and Sanji.

“I see Buggy betrayed us,” you comment, gesturing behind you.

Sanji and Zoro turn to you.

“He didn’t do anything did—”

“What did that fucking clown say—”

Blinking at the both of them, you watch as they turn to each other, before promptly turning the other way.

You bite your lip, laughing. “You guys are—”

Whatever you’d been about to say gets cut off the second you let out a scream. A sharp, aching pain radiates from your left eye, making you fall to your knees as you clutch at your face, curling in on yourself.

Your name leaves Zoro’s lips as he and Sanji run towards you, Zoro kneeling in front of you.

“Y/N,” he calls, voice pitched in panic. “Y/N, what happened? What’s going on?”

“I—” Hissing, you cry out as the sting continues to radiate across your face.

Hands fall on you, careful and slow, pulling your own away from your face.

Leaning forward, Zoro pauses at the sight and Sanji behind him gasps;

“Y/N, your eye…”

You stare up at them, hand hovering by your face, trying to bear through the pain.

“What… What’s happening?”

“Your eye is glowing, Y/N,” Zoro mumbles, shaking his head. “It’s like… shining.”

Frowning at him, you ease when the pain lessens somewhat. Still, your heart is racing with terror of what’s happening.

“Does it still—”

Footsteps cut Zoro off, all three of your guys’ attention snapping to the right where you see one of Arlong’s main lackeys coming over. He grins wide at the sight of you three, and instantly, Sanji is shifting into a fighting stance as Zoro stands, stepping in front of you.

“Stay back, Y/N,” Zoro calls, stretching his arm in front of you.

You nod up at him, pushing yourself back as you try and bite back another cry of pain.

It doesn’t take them long to fight him. Even though Sanji gets kicked around a bit, the second the bad guy says something about Nami, Sanji is zoned in on him. With a series of powerful kicks, you watch as Sanji takes down the guy in seconds.

Zoro turns to you, sure that it was safe to, crouching. His touch is gentle as he tries to get a closer look at your eye.

As their fight had progressed, the pain had lessened. And now, it’s nearly gone, just a faint, residual itchy feeling.

“Does it still hurt?” Zoro frowns.

You shake your head, “it’s just… uncomfortable. Is it still glowing?”

“Not anymore,” he shakes his head, shifting his hands to your hips as he helps you back to your feet.

“Has that ever happened before, love?” Sanji asks, staring back at you in concern.

You ignore Zoro’s huff at the nickname, shaking your head at Sanji. “No,” you frown. “I have no idea what that was.”

Turning back to Zoro, it’s hard to hide your fear.

Brushing his fingers across your cheek, Zoro shakes his head. “It’s okay, just tell me if it happens again, alright? We’ll figure it out.”

Eased at his reassurance, you lean into his touch.

“Also,” Zoro smiles down at you, “you did great.”

His words bring an instant beam to your lips, appreciating his ability to shift your mind away from your worries and praise you at the same time. You grin, clapping your hands in front of you in joy. “Really?” Then, turning to Sanji, your eyes sparkle. “You think so too, Sanji?”

Any discomfort he’d shown at Zoro’s words to you eases as he grins at you. “Of course, love, you did amazing.”

Your face is practically sparkling.

“Would you stop calling her that?” Zoro huffs, “and what was with those stupid names with your kicks?”

“All great heroes have names for their attacks,” Sanji shrugs, unbothered.

Zoro hesitates before sighing. “Yeah, you’ll fit in great.”

You grin, happy they were (sorta) getting along.

Just then, a familiar screaming catches your attention. Turning your gaze to the entrance of Arlong park, you watch as Usopp comes running in, slingshot at the ready.

“Never fear, the Great Captain Usopp is…” But his words trail when he realizes everyone is already down. “Is… oh. You guys did pretty good in here.” Sighing, he grins at you all, sending you a thumbs up. You send him one back. “Good job guys!”

He nods to himself, and the four of you shift, falling silent.

Putting a hand to your right eye, so you see nothing, you frown to yourself, unable to ignore the unsettled feeling still in your stomach.

“Nami!”

Blinking at Sanji’s call, you look up, face brightening when you see Nami running over to the four of you.

Sanji’s arms stretch wide for a hug, but she runs past him, gunning straight for you, Usopp and Zoro. You stumble as you’re brought into an embrace, squished between Zoro and Usopp as Nami’s face falls into the crook of your neck.

“You’re all okay!”

Smiling at her, you nod as she pulls back, taking one last long look at the three of you before turning back to Arlong’s base.

“Where’s Luffy?” Zoro asks.

Glancing at Sanji, who’d been rejected seconds before, you offer a small wink when he meets your gaze.

“Still inside,” Nami answers, “fighting Arlong.”

Turning back to Arlong Park, you frown, however, at the sight of the building crumbling apart.

“That was crazy, huh?”

Smiling down at Zoro, you take a seat next to him, letting your arm brush against his before turning to meet his gaze.

Zoro snorts next to you, returning your smile with a softer one of his own. He leans back as you sit next to him, and you don’t fail to notice the way he leans back, his right hand falling to a spot behind you, silently giving you the room to lean into him.

Biting back your smile, you don’t hesitate to do just that.

“Thought we were going to be fighting off the entirety of that Marine force,” Zoro comments dryly, letting his gaze drift in front of the both of you. You think back to what had just happened moments prior and the realization that the Vice Admiral, Luffy’s grandfather, had been chasing after all of you as some sort of test for his grandson.

Letting out a laugh, you glance up at Zoro, an adoring look in your eye. “I bet you would’ve too,” you comment. With a teasing grin, you poke at his side, careful of his wound. “After all, you like being Luffy’s first mate more than you’ll admit.”

Rolling his eyes, he smirks down at you; “maybe.”

You giggle, letting your head fall onto his shoulder and drift your gaze across the crowd of bustling and happy villagers. It’s a stark contrast from when you’d all first arrived on Cocoyashi Village, but it was one that made your heart swell with pride and warmth. Arlong and his goons were gone and now Nami’s village could live in peace like they always should’ve been able to.

Speaking of, you pause in your thoughts when you notice Nami and Nojiko walking past you. Both of their eyes are on you and Zoro and while Nojiko offers a simple wave and a warm smile, the look in Nami’s eyes is telling as she wiggles her brows at you, gesturing loosely to Zoro. You flush, but the grin on your lips is undeniable.

You watch them walk off, happy the two sisters could have these final moments together.

“How’s your eye?”

Looking up at the sound of Zoro’s question, you find him staring down at you, chin dipped towards you and eyes dancing with concern.

“Better,” you say honestly, letting your hand fall over your left eye, covering your vision completely for a brief second before turning back to Zoro. “I don’t know what that was but I… have been noticing things recently.”

Zoro’s brows furrow; “what things?”

“I just… see things,” you shrug, unsure how to explain it. “See things before others can. Like when I saw the island… Usopp didn’t see it for a minute and we all know that the one thing he does have is good vision. Or when the Marine’s stole Nami’s money, I could see them far before I should’ve been able to.”

Zoro takes in your words, slowly nodding. “You think it could have to do with Mihawk?”

“Maybe,” you nod, the thought having already crossed your mind. “I’ve never understood why my eye looks like this or why my right one is blind… My mother had normal eyes. Maybe something went wrong when I was born?”

Still leant against him, Zoro shifts, moving to slip your hand in his own as he squeezes. “Well, whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, yeah? There’s gotta be an answer somewhere out there.’

His voice is sincere, serious with the promise of helping you. Warmth floods you, heart fluttering, and you think back to the first time you ever met Zoro. When he’d stumbled in that tent that day, you never would’ve thought this is where you’d be now.

Nodding up at him, you say; “it’s a promise.”

He smiles, and with that, you let your head fall against his shoulder again, hand still in his.

The two of you spend the rest of the celebration like that.

“So…”

Glancing over at Nami, you huff; “so?”

“You and Zoro?” She grins, wide and from ear to ear. “Can’t believe I missed that.”

Letting out a chuckle, you shake your head. “Don’t tease me,” you whine faintly, pressing a hand to your forehead as the two of you make your way to the kitchen. “I already got enough of it from Usopp.”

Nami barks out a laugh just as the two of you slip inside.

“Get enough of what from me?” Usopp asks, looking up for one of his new ammo experiments he’d been working on.

Meeting Nami’s eyes, the both of you giggle.

“Nothing!”

“Ah,” Sanji comments from the counter, “it’s so nice to be rewarded with such lovely laughter from two lovely ladies.”

You let out a chuckle, moving to sit next to Zoro as Nami grins over at Sanji.

“Oi,” Zoro calls, looking up for his swords. “What have I said about flirting with Y/N, you damned cook?”

Sanji just shrugs, not at all bothered; “I can’t help it. Y/N’s elegance merely demands it.”

Nami and Usopp cackle but you notice the way Zoro moves to get up, quickly grabbing ahold of his arm to stop him.

“You—!”

“Guys!”

Thankful for the distraction, your face lights up as Luffy comes bounding into the kitchen, a slip of paper in his hands. Moving towards the table, he slams it down.

“Look.”

“Oh, shit,” you breathe, staring down at the wanted poster.

“Hey, look,” Usopp cheers, “I’m famous!”

Sanji shakes his head; “what are you on about? That’s Luffy’s wanted poster.”

“Not just Luffy,” Usopp smirks, reaching forward and pointing at the paper. You follow his gesture, huffing a laugh when you realize, sure enough, there Usopp is in the left corner of the poster.

Or, at least, the back of him.

“Sorry, guy,” Usopp chuckles, glancing at you all. “Maybe if you work a little harder, you’ll get a bounty too.”

“That doesn’t count.” Sanji rolls his eyes.

“It’s okay to be jealous. Feel what you need to feel.”

“I… mm…” Cutting himself off, Sanji submits; “this is stupid.”

“This is gonna make things much harder,” Zoro comments from next to you. “With that price on your head, every bounty hunter in the East Blue will be gunning for you.”

“Not just Luffy,” Nami adds. “They’re gonna be gunning for all of us.”

Everyone falters, faced with reality, but you just smile over at Luffy.

“Still,” you speak up, pulling Luffy’s attention on you. “Good for you, Luffy! That’s the first step to being the King of the Pirates!”

He sends you a thumbs up, as the rest groan.

“What have we talked about,” Nami frowns at you. “You don’t need to encourage him anymore than he already encourages himself.”

You just shrug, grinning.

“Besides,” Luffy shrugs, “it doesn't matter. Because we are not staying in the East Blue.”

Staring up at all of you, he grins;

“We’re going to the Grand Line.”

“Straw Hats! All hands on deck for a cast-off ceremony.”

Listening to Luffy’s order, you step out onto deck behind Zoro, raising a brow when you see Luffy, Nami and Sanji already gathered around a barrel.

Usopp’s the last to arrive, and the second he comes to a stop, Sanji raises his leg, placing it on the edge of the barrel.

“I’m gonna find the All Blue,” he promises, and your heart starts with realization of what’s happening.

Luffy follows his lead with ease, slamming his leg on the barrel with a bit more force. “I’m gonna be King of the Pirates!”

Zoro shifts next to you, smiling wide, and then, he does the same. “I’m gonna be the world’s greatest swordsman.”

“I’m gonna draw a map of the world,” Nami promises, raising her leg as she smiles at you all.

“I…” Usopp hesitates, shifting, before raising his leg. “Am gonna be a brave warrior of the sea!”

Laughter echoes, and then, everyone’s eyes shift to you. Hesitating similarly to Usopp, you glance at the barrel and then each of your friends.

Feeling your heart flutter with excitement, you raise your leg, taking up the last bit of space left on the barrel.

“I’m gonna discover the truth about my eye!” You promise, biting your lip.

You glance at everyone, grinning, until your eyes fall on Zoro who smiles back at you with pride.

“This is it, crew,” Luffy calls, “The Grand Line.”

He pauses, meeting each and every one of your eyes, before, his raises his hand to the sky and screams;

“Nothing’s gonna stand in our way! Yeah!”

Without hesitation, you lean back, inhaling sharply before letting out a bellow of; “Woohoo!”

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