#need a reason to pull my hair out again
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a chenford "i'm not leaving you" would make me so much worse, yet here i am asking for it anyway.
#*and this is icarly!#my sanity would be absolutely gone#never to be seen again#put them in a dire situation so i can watch them both fret over each other#need a reason to pull my hair out again#the rookie#tim bradford#lucy chen#chenford#otp: you know me so well
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I have Got to get more transgender
#100% секретный дневник левы НЕ ЧИТАЙ#transmasc#trans ftm#transgender#i like 2 say i'm very trans already but unforch i am Not Really. mostly boring ftm Guy Ever#so tempted to cut my hair again but my sense of what i look like is already so fuzzy i dont think it'd help..#want to dye my hair anyways. at this point i'd take whatever color i can get if not purple LOL#it's almost everything i could want and yet ... still me. still the same life. stuck.#soooo high functioning like you wouldnt believe EXCEPT istg i need an emotional support human who will guide me through tasks#such as 'pay with your Moneys Card at the Store'#or... idk that's it really. maybe go grocery shopping without feeling like i'm not meant to be there also#or like. exist in general maybe#reasons why not emotional support Animal: creature cannot understand capitalism. and also is not as necessary as a service dog specifically#idk! every time i come on here i fall apart (in text) and then pull myself back together for another day of ... this i guess.#i'm not even having like crying breakdowns or anything to go along with it i'm just held inside this shell of a body. typing away again#i'm soso tempted to make things worse. progress wouldn't matter anymore... at least maybe it would feel real that i'm like this#i wish my face fit on my body right. and also that i did not look quite so much like a vaguely gnc lesbian#like at LEAST let me look butch as hell but no. curse of sad hair & uncertainty#miss my little mullety thing from that brief period in october... miss my short hair from back in 2017 ...#just dont feel satisfied with what i am now. in general.#top surgery is literally Within my reach but i'm not sure about cost and i need to wait because of doing guard now......#my list of do i want t i kept for the past month turned out to be a bunch of maybes#partially cause i got sick. partially cause it stopped being shark week and i forgot about it#as always happens...#still unsure in my new(er) name. only heard it once#didn't feel the same way as with my old one? but idk. just don't know.#missing guard also but feeling conflicted about not having time for other hobbies...#since winter season is over i've had so much time to play guitar! that's insane! mostly cause i stopped playing for unrelated reasons...#just tired again. wonder if i need more sleep than what i always get. kind of restless.#there's nothing else to say i guess. just wish i could be a person the way everyone else seems to be.
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Sister's therapist called child protective services on my mother!!
#no idea how this will play out#maybe she'll go to a psychiatrist now#fingers crossed anyway#she just said this is why i think God hates us lmfao#only reason I'm anxious is bc Izzies having anxiety attack#i don't actually want my mother in jail though so I'll have to keep the hair she pulled out with me instead of in a drawer#she deadass was just talking about how when i was in high school my friends mother had cps called on her (she didn't do anything Wrong#she was just. incredibly overbearing very much a helicopter parent) but she goes and that was wrong too they didn't need to do that#TOO??????#YOU PULLED A KNIFE ON YOUR HUSBAND AND CHILD#YOU PULLED HAIR OUT OF MY FUCKING SCALP#If Anything is warranted This fucking Is#i don't think anyone will get taken away over this bc some people i knew lived in regularly abusive households and nothing happened there#no matter how often cps was called#two days before mother's day too this is good shit#very juicy#my post#. it might become a problem bc mom's saying she (izzie) is never going back there for therapy#and if that trickles to me needing a new psychiatrist for my meds again after i finally found someone i like I'll start crying
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Mr. and Mrs. Barnes
Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky suggests sneaking off at the gala. How can you resist?
Word Count: Over 3k
Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, sex in a closet, dirty talk, possessiveness, established relationship, slight insecurities, mention of breeding, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's a simp for you (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I just really wanted this. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Bucky didn’t bother to hide his discontent as he looked around at the ballroom. Was it a gala? Fundraiser? What cared? He hated functions like these. People were either there to kiss ass and move up the chain of command or gloat about how well off they were in life under the guise that they were doing good for others. He didn't attempt to converse with any of them, but still had to go as a way to support SHIELD in some capacity and show that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.
At least Steve and Sam were excused from the event due to a mission.
Leaning against one of the pillars and tugging at his bowtie, he spaced out momentarily. No one looked his way, but he still felt judged. Like he didn’t just belong at the event, but amongst anyone. He wanted to go home, get out of his tuxedo, and get the product out of his slicked back hair. He debated sneaking away from some air until he blinked and saw the reason he was truly there: you, the only real person in the crowd of liars and cheaters.
He never understood the expression of clothes clinging to someone like a second skin until you stepped into your floor-length black dress earlier this evening, the fabric enhancing every beautiful curve of your body. His eyes narrowed as you moved around the room and exchanged smiles and handshakes with people. Your aura drew people to you, men brushing against you and their stares lingering for far too long. It served as another reminder of why he didn’t want to go tonight, especially when a General gripped your arm.
If he had a glass in his hand it would’ve shattered.
Convincing you to stay in bed didn't work since you both had to make an appearance, but it didn't mean he wanted you apart from him. “Get over here,” he whispered, craving your attention, needing you close.
As if you sensed him seeking you out, likely feeling the weight of his stare, you turned to meet his gaze across the room. Your eyes sparkled with love that he never thought he’d receive in his lifetime. The kind of love he never wanted to be without again. “Would you please excuse me?” You asked loud enough for him to catch as you removed your arm from the man’s grip. “My husband is waiting for me.”
Your hips swayed as you worked your way toward Bucky, not stopping for any other man who tried to catch your eye. Hearing you call him your husband brought the first smile to his face since he arrived. He still couldn’t believe some days that you wanted forever with him. “I was wondering when my beautiful wife would remember I was here,” he said once you were close enough, reaching out for your hand.
The moment you took it, he stood tall and pulled you against him. He was certain no one else came close to the intimidating vibe he put out, his hold on you possessive as you smiled. “As if I could forget. Practically heard you growling when General Rando touched my arm,” you teased.
“Because he has no right to touch you,” he said, your lashes fluttering as you spun away. His hands guided you back to him. “I know you’re better with people than I am, which is why you’re the one who has to socialize and I’m sorry for that. But you also said I’m not allowed to break any fingers tonight and I won't be held responsible if he tries to touch you again.”
He swore he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body until you sauntered into his life, giving him hopes and dreams and longing.
You laughed at him, a seductive sound that had a few heads turning. ��You do know I can break his fingers myself, right?”
He chuckled, leaning close to your ear and tickling your skin with his breath. “I know you're more than capable of kicking his ass. One of your many wonderful qualities,” he whispered. People underestimated you and that was always a mistake. “But I still don't like that he touched you like he wanted to own you.”
You rang a finger along his bowtie. “We all know who owns me and we know I own you, too,” you said, holding up your hand to show him your wedding ring. He tried to ignore how fast his heart pounded at the sight of his ring on your finger, the pledge you two made together. “In a very healthy, non-toxic sort of way, of course.”
He smirked, glancing around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Of course, but maybe we could give everyone a friendly reminder that we’re a happily married and loyal couple.” His voice dropped lower, teasingly. He wanted to make your heart race like his. “Or maybe we could sneak away for a bit. Make this night a little more interesting.”
“Sneak away?” You feigned innocence as you blinked at him. He was certain any innocence you had before he met you was gone thanks to him. “Whatever for?”
“You know what for. It’ll be like that expo we went to a few months ago.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying your face closely. He easily picked up your sharp inhale, the way your pupils dilated and lips parted. It was clear that sneaking off was something that very much interested you. “C’mon, baby. This gala is boring and neither of us want to be here. My idea is much more fun. You know it is.”
He touched your cheek, your skin warm under his hand. He wasn’t able to keep you in bed earlier like he wanted, but the thought of pulling you away and having you right here and now had his stomach fluttering with excitement. “This gala is boring,” you agreed carefully.
“Then let’s make it exciting.” His thumb brushed across your lips and it took everything in him not to push his thumb inside. “You made me come to this thing. Don’t I deserve something for showing up and behaving?”
“I haven't made you come yet.” His muscles went taut when you briefly sucked the digit into your mouth, electricity crackling under his skin. He admired your boldness, how you were unashamedly yourself in front of these people. You didn't and would never care what they thought. “And I didn't make you come to this event, but I can make it worth your while.”
He held your chin and moved close until only an inch separated your faces. Your eyes gleamed with a hunger that rivaled his. The air crackled between you, daring you both to give over to your obvious desires. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” He rasped when you suddenly pulled back and helped move him across the floor in a dance.
“My plan? I thought sneaking away was your idea,” you smiled, guiding you both closer to the open doorway. “But if we can find a closet or dark corner, you can do whatever you want with me. And I’ll even let you fuck my throat first thing tomorrow morning for behaving.”
A rumbling, deep groan escaped his throat. His fingers dug in possessively when he gripped the nape of your neck and tilted your head so he could taste your skin. Your body molding against his, soft and yielding against his solid frame, wasn’t enough. There were too many clothes in the way and he wanted to bury himself deep inside you.
“You drive me crazy, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered, lifting his head to look into your eyes.
“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Barnes.” You bit your lip once he waltzed you for enough away from prying eyes, the heat flaring between you. “I need you.”
Every nerve ending came to life when he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged past your lips, holding you steady as he devoured you. You melted against him, which only brought forth his primal hunger more. His intensity never scared you and he would be forever thankful for that.
You gasped as your back hit a wall, the sounds of chatter and music from the ballroom muffled. Your nails scraped the fabric of his jacket, both of you lost in sensations of lust and desire. As one of your hands continued its journey to his shoulder, the other wandered down his torso and didn’t stop until you gripped his thick erection through his pants.
He abruptly broke the kiss when you gave him a squeeze, his eyes wild. “Fuck,” he breathed, gripping your wrist and pushing more firmly against your hand. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”
With dizzying speed, he spun you so that your back pressed against his front. You panted as his hand ventured through the slit of your dress and brushed along your trembling thigh. “Wait until you feel how wet I am,” you whispered, grinding your hips back against his.
His mouth brushed the exposed column of your throat, alternating between small bites and open mouthed kisses. “Still get wet for me?” He asked, massaging your breast with his vibranium hand and drawing another gasp from you when he pinched your nipple. He marveled at how much he could feel with that hand and how he’d never harm you with it.
“Have you seen yourself? One look from you and I’m soaked.” Your back arched as he bit down again. He wished he saw himself the way you did. “And you’re my husband. That craving for you isn’t going away.”
He rocked his hips against yours, seeking out more contact and friction as his cock throbbed and heart swelled. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon phase. It took work. Effort. Compromise. But you were worth every moment, every struggle, every up and down.
Laughter from a few feet away had him lifting his head, both of you looking toward where the noise was coming from. “Fuck,” he snarled, wanting to scream at whoever it was to go the fuck away.
“There’s a closet around the corner. We just need to pick the lock,” you told him, smiling over your shoulder. “I may have scoped out the place in case this happened.”
He chuckled, utterly in awe of you. “I fucking love you,” he exhaled.
Walking with an aching hard-on wasn’t easy, but he managed to get you both further away from the ballroom. He picked the lock with record speed once you got to the door and moved you both inside. He flipped on the light, wanting to see as much of you as he could. For a moment, you two stared at each other and waited for the other to make a move. He loved the anticipation.
“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Barnes,” you said, reaching for the doorknob to lock it. He was about to ask what he possibly did to upset you when you smirked. “You didn’t mention anything about me not wearing any panties.”
His cock was ready to burst from his pants. “Because that fucking clown out there interupted me,” he rumbled, pinning you against the door and crowding your body. His nose touched yours as he hiked your dress up, desperate to kiss you again. Eager to feel your wetness. “You trust me?”
It was a question he always asked. You put all of yourself into his care, your body, mind, heart, and soul. It was only fair that he made sure you still wanted him to be the one for you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Even then a single lifetime would never be enough for him. He wanted a thousand lives with you.
“Always,” you said, an ache in your voice that he couldn’t resist. He fused his lips with yours, building up the fire all over again when his hand found your damp heat. The most intimate part of you where you allowed him to make himself at home. Your hands shook as you went to undo his pants, wanting to free him. “And you trust me?”
It wasn’t just his heart that contracted. His very soul trembled, wanting to wrap itself up in your light and love. “With everything in me,” he promised, sighing when he pulled his cock free from his underwear. “I’ll worship you later. Those gorgeous tits of yours. Your sweet cunt.”
Once you were home, he’d slip off your dress and give every beautiful inch of your body the attention it deserved. He’d draw a bath for you, too, and hopefully join you so he could simply hold you. But he was desperate for you now. He thought he’d burn if he didn’t have you.
You hiked a leg around him, moving your hips enticingly. There was only so much he could take. And who wouldn’t fall under the tempting spell of your body? “I’m ready for you.” Your soft moan echoed in his ears as he trailed a finger along your slit to your clit, barely touching it. He knew it would shoot small sparks through your body until you begged for more. “I mean it, Barnes. Get. Your cock. In me.”
“My needy little wife,” he whispered against your lips as he gripped the base of his cock and probed your entrance. The breathy sound you made when he began to push in had his blood pulsing in euphoria. It was a wonder he fit some days with how tight you were, but your slick heat stretched and welcomed him every time.
“My needy husband,” you smiled as you enveloped him completely, your fingers curling in his hair.
“What kind of man isn’t needy for his wife?” He began to thrust in deep, deliberate strokes. It matched the rhythm of the music in the distant ballroom, the two of you creating your own sultry dance. Maybe he would go up in flames. At least he’d have you to burn with. “Fuck, your body was made for my cock.”
Each snap of his hips tore more moans and whimpers from your throat and sent shockwaves through his system. You clenched around him with a smile, looking like a debauched angel. “My pussy was made for you, so ruin it.”
He groaned, his pulse beating strongly as his grip tightened on your hips. He fucked you without restraint, just as greedy for you as you were for him. Allowing himself to feel you and what you did to him was everything he was denied for so long. His life had only been order. Pain. You let him lose control. You gave him pleasure. Even a home.
I love you.
“I love you, too, Bucky,” you panted, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes closed against the emotions threatening to surface. “I love you, too.”
His pace picked up, urgent, frenzied. At this rate, he might explode into fragments from your declaration and how good you felt. “You love me?” He bit out, his eyes opening and breaths harsh as he felt you clench again.
You cried out, his hand flying up to brace your head before it hit the door. “So much,” you moaned as you gazed at him. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Fierce in love and loyalty, patient and steadfast. He feared some days he’d need you more than you needed him, but you drove that thought from his mind. “I’m yours.”
“I’m not gonna last,” he warned. He couldn’t with the way you looked at him, the way your walls gripped him, knowing you were his.
“Neither am…” Your mouth fell open as your release hit you, your fluids drenching him. It was a wonder to watch you go over the edge in a blissful orgasm. He wanted to be right there with you.
“There you go. Good girl,” he encouraged, your body still tight around his cock. He erupted in one last thrust, his head falling back with an animalistic roar. “Fuck…”
Bucky braced a hand against the door, the other holding you like a lifeline. If only the two of you were at home so he could properly cuddle with you. His breathing remained ragged for a bit as he came down from his high, your breathing beginning to steady, too. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the sight of you thoroughly ravaged and satisfied. “Worth every second of being here,” he sighed, slowly pulling out of your twitching hole. You inhaled when he moved a hand down and swiped two fingers along the mess seeping out of you. “Clean them off for me, baby,” he ordered huskily, bringing them to your mouth.
Obediently, you parted your lips and allowed him to push his fingers in. You swirled your tongue around them to taste your combined essence, moaning at the tangy flavor. He tucked himself away once you finished up, afraid that he’d fuck you all over again if he didn’t get completely dressed. It didn’t stop him from gazing longingly at you as he fixed his jacket.
And it didn’t stop him from imagining your mouth around his cock the next morning.
“Now.” You grimmaced slightly as he helped you steady yourself and straighten out your dress. He knew that look. It was the look you got for a split second whenever the sticky remnants continued to trickle down your thighs. He loved having that claim on you. “How do you expect me to go back to the gala after that?”
“I don’t,” he smirked, his hands moving back to your hips as he snuck in a gentle kiss. “I think it’s time to get you home and back in our bed where you belong. I promised I’d worship you, remember?”
You nodded, your eyes still slightly dazed. “On one condition.”
He titled his head. “What’s that?”
A slow smile curved your mouth, his heart pounding and cock twitching back to life at your answer, “You put a baby in me tonight.”
So, lovelies, was it okay? I feel rusty. And who wants a future fic of Bucky breeding you? Just me? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan#the winter soldier#bucky barnes smut#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#husband!bucky barnes#sebastian stan x reader#bucky fanfic#x reader#james bucky barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#mr. and mrs. barnes
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Fluffy fluffy prompt to hubby sukuna or whom ever you choose “awnn my poor baby come here” then he slowly walks towards you rubbing his eyes all soft and tired 🥺
There’s a low grumble behind you that snaps you out of your slicing of fruit, but you merely brush it off before moving onto the next strawberry.
Then, the grumble ripples through the air again, and you keep slicing, trying your best to ignore the noise.
It happens a third time. You giggle, “what, baby?” You put the knife down and turn to face Sukuna, arms crossing over your chest as you look him up and down.
He looks childish, with the comforter wrapped around his shoulders and hair ruffled around messily. His eyes are puffy from sleep and his cheeks hold a little flush, but his lips are still pouted in a scowl. “You left me alone in bed,” he grumbles. “I told you not to do that. Bed gets too cold.”
“Is that the only reason you don’t like me leaving the bed?” You ask, knowing the real answer. But you also know he’ll never say it. He’s stubborn like that.
He offers you a roll of his eyes, “yes, and I hate the cold. You’re aware of this.”
“My poor baby,” you tease, opening your arms for him to shamble into. “C’mere. Let me warm you back up from the mean, evil, cold covers.”
“You’d better,” he murmurs, stalking towards you and into your arms. He opens his own to reveal the corners of the blanket balled into his big fists, and when he embraces you, you’re shrouded in darkness but melting into the warmth that his chest brews. Your laugh softly, and burrow into his chest, which rumbles with a hum in confusion. "Somethin' funny under there?"
"Just dark," you say, wrapping your arms around his waist and gently squeezing him out of cute aggression. "I also can't really breathe, so-"
"Good," he says, resting his head on top of yours, tightening his arms to keep you in place. "Won't have to deal with your ass leaving the bed, messing up my sleep." You laugh some more, only to send a few pokes to his waist, making him jerk away from you and loosen his hold.
"Who's gonna cuddle you at night then?"
"I'm a man, I don't need cuddles."
When you do, however, try to get out of his arms, he grumbles and pulls you tighter again, with an annoyed grunt. "No."
"That's what I thought, Sukuna."
#i missed him so much dawg#my pouty pookie bear sunshine angel baby stinkle#sukuna#sukuna fluff#sukuna x reader#sukuna x gn!reader#sukuna x reader fluff#sukuna imagine#sukuna jjk#sukuna ryomen#sukuna ryomen fluff#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x gn!reader#sukuna ryomen x reader fluff#sukuna ryomen imagine#sukuna ryomen jjk#jjk#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x reader fluff#jjk imagine#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk x gn!reader#jjk x yn#jjk x you#jjk x y/n
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Pairing: lawyer!Jaehyun x divorcée!reader
Genre: age gap, drama, romance, smut
Word Count: 24k
Summary: Jaehyun has a ruthless, cruel and not so legal way of getting his clients everything they want out of their divorce. After all, to do the job right, a lawyer like him is not supposed to believe something like 'love' exists in the first place. That is until he meets his next client who also has a not so legal way of creeping right into his heart and make him question all his morals.
A/N: Man, I miss Jaehyun :( D-541
“I want to divorce my husband.”
Jaehyun hadn’t spared you, the young woman who had been following him since the lobby, a single glance, purposefully ignoring every word you were trying to direct at him as he walked hurriedly and steadily to the elevators.
He was already running late that morning thanks to a fight with the parking attendant since apparently, his permission for the parkade had run out last night. And now, an annoying woman blocking the elevator doors after he had gotten in and hindering Jaehyun from reaching his office’s floor was a bit of a stretch at this ungodly hour. Eventually, he couldn’t ignore your existence anymore.
“Move,” he demanded, annoyed.
“I won’t,” you objected.
Pressing the ‘close’-button over and over again, Jaehyun rolled his eyes at your perseverance as not even the heavy doors hitting your arms could chase you away. He stared at you, observing the persistence mirrored in your eyes as you pushed the doors aside again. He silently gave you credit for that.
“I want to divorce my husband,” you said again. “And I need you to successfully do so!”
Jaehyun let his eyes wander as you had piqued his interest ultimately. Your stubborn spirit reminded him a little bit of himself. But only a little bit. He examined you thoroughly. You were dressed elegantly in a pencil skirt, blouse and high heels. No wrinkles in your clothes, hair tidily pulled out of your face, not a strand out of order. You dressed like the average woman approaching him for his help: trophy wives in their thirties up to fifties, trapped in a marriage that was falling apart for always one and the same reason,
the lack of love.
In these kinds of marriages, mutual love rarely existed anymore. It was the same pattern again and again: The woman went blindly and head over heels in love into the marriage and throughout time, got frustrated with their lives as their marriage turned out entirely different from what they had imagined. The husband was almost never at home, business was always more important, and rarely did a case not involve cheating.
A person who had once been a naive woman in love had usually changed into a vengeful wife who wanted to take her husband to the cleaners by the time they consulted Jaehyun’s law firm. After all, they didn’t believe in love anymore, and that was why his job was so easy, and even a little bit of fun.
But there was one difference that made you stand out significantly from all of his past clients, Jaehyun silently remarked to himself as his gaze stopped on your face: You were young. So, so young.
“Divorce your husband?” he repeated your words. “Aren’t you too young to be married for long enough yet?”
Your expression darkened, but he took it as a challenge. It wouldn’t be the first time he clashed with a potential client. As a matter of fact, it wouldn’t be a successful case for him if his client wouldn’t start hating him at some point - and then preaching him to the heavens when he got them all they had asked for in the process, and more.
“Do you want this case or not?” you retorted. “I promise, you won’t regret it.”
Jaehyun raised a brow. Straightforward and witty. He hadn’t expected that from an early twenty-something. Perhaps, he should pay weight to your words, the fact that he wouldn’t regret it. Judging by your age alone, there was surely more to the story, and he was curious to get under the surface of it all.
Jaehyun removed his hand from the ‘close’-button while simultaneously a moment of relief flashed through his face - along with a grin.
The door stayed open as he asked, “How long have you been married for?”
“Two and a half years.”
That was nothing.
“Is there a prenup?”
“Yes.”
As always.
“What’s your husband’s name?”
You hesitated.
In a lot of cases, Jaehyun knew his client’s spouses just by their name. Wives of CEOs, chairmen, actors, doctors, politicians, investors … they all came to him.
“Kang Seungmin.”
Jaehyun almost visibly took in an exasperated breather.
“Kang Seungmin who is related to the Aewha Group?”
You nodded. “His older brother is the CEO.”
Pause.
“Be here tomorrow, 8am.”
____
You remembered the day you got married like it was yesterday.
You weren’t wearing your dream wedding dress.
Your dress was a designer that your husband’s mother had picked out. It had been too voluminous, too heavy, and it hadn’t suited your style at all. Your makeup had made it hard for you to recognize yourself and they had put too many extensions in your hair. But that was what they had wanted you to look like - and you had complied.
It wasn’t your dream wedding venue.
It had taken place at the Shilla Hotel and you hadn’t had any say in the decoration, it was all white and beige when you had wanted sprinkles of purple, your favorite color. The cake was vanilla flavored when you had wanted blueberry, and the program had involved a choir, not a band. But that was what they had wanted the reception to be like - and you had complied.
Your friends and family weren’t there.
You hadn’t known a single person at the wedding except for your future husband’s family. When you had been sitting there, feeling lonely and left out, there was no one you could have turned to, no familiar and friendly face. Your guests were all only business partners and your new family’s friends - and you had complied.
You had never felt so lonely in your life like on the day that was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. But you had complied with everything, because you had been so, so in love.
And what was left of that now?
“So, Mrs. Kang,” Mr. Jeong started the next morning after you had appeared in front of his office at 8am sharp. “After you have filled out all the information about you and your husband, I just want to know one thing…”
“Which is…?”
You hoped he didn’t notice how you kept your shaking legs in place with your palms pressing on top of your thighs. You knew exactly what was coming and you were prepared for that, but it always made you nervous, regardless of how many times someone would bring this topic up. And it happened almost every time.
“What is it that you’re after?”
You were confused. That wasn’t what you had expected. “Pardon me?”
The lawyer took off his glasses with which he had previously read through your information carefully and put them next to him on the desk. Then, he propped his elbows against the table and leaned in to you. It was very intimidating as if he wanted to look straight into your soul to detect every lie that could possibly pass your lips.
But there was nothing for you to lie about.
“What do you want out of this marriage, Mrs. Kang?” he carefully elaborated. “Money? The house? Company shares? I can get you everything.”
“In all honesty, Mr. Jeong,” you admitted, “I don’t want any of his money, belongings, mansions and company shares. I just want to get out of this marriage and never be involved with this family again. That’s all I want.”
He let out a long sigh and closed the file with your information.
“Are you… done?” you asked.
“Yes. With you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t want anything? No money, no mansions, no company shares? Then, where is the thrill? What do you need me for?” The lawyer leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms behind his head. “I think it’s better for you to look for another lawyer.”
“His material possessions were not the reason I was trying to find consultation with you.” You stayed calm and didn’t want to get irritated by his change in demeanor. “I grew up wealthy already, Mr. Jeong. I’m not dependent on his money. When I turned eighteen, I inherited the trust fund my parents had opened up for me the day I was born. It’s enough to live comfortably until… well, the end of my days.”
“So, you are two wealthy people who have married and you don’t want to take anything from him just out of spite. According to the law, the trust fund still rightfully belongs to you as it had been handed over to you prior to your marriage.” If he was confused by your statement, then he didn’t let it slip. “So, what is it that makes divorcing him so difficult then, Mrs. Kang? What is it that you’re after, exactly? I know there is something after all.”
“It’s not what I’m after. It’s what he is after.” You reached down to your bag, pulling out a file that you then attentively placed on the lawyer’s desk. “Here is a copy of my prenup. Please open page 35. I highlighted the most important parts.”
He put back on his glasses and opened the documents at the respective page. You visibly saw his brows furrow at the paragraph that you had pointed out.
“So, it’s the other way around. In case of a divorce, it’s not him who will lose everything,” the lawyer concluded. “But you will lose everything, and it will be all transcribed to him. Your trust fund money, your possessions, everything from before your marriage even…” He stilled. “Just… everything.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m sorry Mrs. Kang, but…” He looked at you in utter disbelief. And the worst thing was that you couldn’t even blame him. You were very ashamed of yourself, too. “How could you have even signed this in the first place? I have never seen a prenup like this in my entire career. But then again, I've only been practicing in my own law firm for a short few years….”
He was straightforward with a certain sharpness lying on his tongue that tended to take a derogatory way at times. This lawyer had surely seen so much already, but according to his words, this must just be an entire new level of naiveness he hadn’t encountered ever before.
“I was young and in love.”
There was certainly no other explanation you wanted to give him yet, even though he was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to elaborate the decision and specifically the situation you had been in when signing this agreement. But again, you had to disappoint him. You would have still signed the papers if the circumstances had been different, you were certain of that. Why would it matter if you left out an additional reason?
The lawyer let out a long sigh. It was like you could hear his thoughts in your own mind: Such a naive, stupid girl, getting married so young and signing away all her rights just to be with a powerful man forever, out of blinded love. You endured it like so many other things in your life.
“Love.” He snorted, confirming your thoughts, and closed the marriage contract with a thud. “It’s absolutely good for nothing. You clients prove it to me every time.”
You tilted your head. “Just because I’m getting divorced doesn’t mean I don’t believe in love anymore, Mr. Jeong. Those are two very different things.”
“I’m aware of the fact that my clients almost all get married out of love like you,” he corrected himself strictly and made his standpoint clear to you. “Now, wanting a divorce from the person who you once had such strong feelings for… how can you still believe in something that has failed you so thoroughly?”
“But love hasn’t failed me,” you objected. “It’s the person who failed me. And just because that certain man has let me down, doesn’t mean someone else will, too. There is not only one person in the world to love. I’m not going to say I hate all men and will never meet someone I can open myself up to again, Mr. Jeong. I suppose that’s what the majority of people who come here say to you, am I right? But I won’t. There are people in their fifties finding love all over again, so if I have to wait another thirty years just to experience the same, I will willingly do so. I will never give up hope, I won’t let spite devour me whole. I will wait for my time to come.”
He had fallen into silence and his gaze was impenetrable while you kept talking and eventually came to an end. The Lawyer was either baffled by your naivete once again, or you had sincerely taken him by surprise and the usually so witty man for once, since your meeting, didn’t know what to reply.
“You’re so full of positivity, Mrs. Kang, it almost makes me feel sick. Where is your anger, your vengefulness?” he eventually responded, and you felt a wave of disappointment wash over you. “But since you don’t seem to have my clients’ usual bitterness and grimness to drive by, we will rely on your insolent positivity to win this case. Or stupidness, depending on how you view your case.”
You had never been so subtly attacked and complimented at the same time, but since it was coming from the ruthless attorney himself, you put more weight on the latter. “Whatever works for me, I guess.”
He folded his forearms on the table and leaned forward, closer to you, narrowing his eyes before he almost whispered, “But there is one thing I always demand from my clients to win a case and my trust eventually. Without this certain thing, you will lose both.”
You inhaled deeply in expectation. “And that is…?”
“The entire truth.” The response was so simple, but you sensed there was more depth in it. “If I ask you something, you’re going to tell me the truth. You cannot conceal or hide anything. There cannot be a detail that you consider too irrelevant or something that you consider too embarrassing to tell me. You will tell me everything I ask for and not ask for, are we clear?”
At this moment, you felt like he was staring right into your soul, marking this a make it or break it point for your business relationship. If you lied, would he be able to detect right away? Or was he bluffing and only wanted to intimidate you? Had he already sensed that you had left out an important aspect in your marriage?
“We are very much clear.”
A grin flashed across his face, making you frown. “Very well. Then I need you to do the exact opposite.”
“The opposite? Then… I should lie?”
“Exactly. And please don’t hit me with the ‘I cannot lie, I’m a sincere person, I cannot hurt someone’ bullshit. We don’t do that here. In order to win what you want, you have to play dirty. Be honest with me, but when I need you to lie and do reprehensible things, you have to comply. Do you think you can do this, little miss sunshine? Or are we way too sincere and positive for that?”
“I’m sorry, if you mean playing dirty do yo-”
“Can you do that?” he interrupted you. “This is the only thing I need to know. Can you play dirty when I need you to?”
This shouldn’t surprise you. Deep down, you had always known what kind of lawyer he was. Everyone knew. That was why you had eventually seeked out for him. You couldn’t win this case on your own or with any lawyer, it had to be him. You had tried so hard and had approached not only attorneys in this city, but all over the country - to no avail.
This lawyer was your last resort, and never had you thought you would go this far. But if you had to lie and play dirty if asked to break free from your golden cage, then that was what you were going to do.
If you had to play dirty to see your family again, then you would do so.
You gulped, but still brought out, “I can do that.”
Even though it came reluctantly, he still believed you and said with a satisfied smile, “Very well, ma’am.”
_____
“So, this is the golden cage that you’re always referring to.” Your lawyer stood in the lobby, inspecting the entrance location. “Interesting.”
It was an odd sight for you - to have your divorce lawyer, who was technically still a stranger even after meeting a few times in his firm, in the home that you were sharing with your husband. But then again, in these two and a half years here together, your house had always been filled with only strangers and people you weren’t fond of, so this wasn’t quite a new experience.
Your home was a multistory penthouse in a high rise building in one the city’s wealthiest neighborhood, because another quarter was a degradation for your husband’s family’s status. It was all too modernly and minimalistically designed with no touch of personal memories in the form of pictures or belongings. The furniture was too clean, the art too abstract, the rooms too empty. It had always felt more like a museum rather than a home for you - grand, impressive and utterly overwhelming.
You had spent days endlessly wandering between the floors and looking out of the gigantic window across the river out of which one side of the penthouse was entirely crafted, spanning over two levels. This was the only thing you liked about your home as it was easier to dream yourself away while watching the sunset. Many times, you had imagined living on the other side of the river, too. Where it wasn’t all filled with stuck up millionaires, people too focused on changing their appearances and overall shallowness.
You had tried so hard to connect with this life, but even though you had grown up wealthily on this side of the river as well, there was one thing you were missing but had been showered with all throughout your childhood right until your marriage: love, comfort, warmth.
“I wonder how much this is?”
Your lawyer had picked up an ornate porcelain vase from the side table and threw it into the air. Your heart nearly stopped as you watched the decor flying off and gasped. Reaching out your hands, you tried to catch the vase yourself, but a moment later, it was landing safely in your lawyer’s hands again, who then turned to you, grinning.
“I guess it's very expensive,” he concluded.
You yanked the vase out of his hands and returned it to where it belonged. “Don’t do that again! This decor is finely picked out by my in-laws, and if there is only one vase slightly out of arrangement or one single statue looking in the wrong direction when they come over - which is almost every day - hell will break loose.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “That’s exactly what I imagined after what you told me about them. How can someone endure living here anyway?”
“I’m tougher than you think, Mr. Jeong.”
“Hm.” His eyes then fell on your appearance and scanned you up and down. “At first glance, you look like you totally belong here with your pantsuit and perfectly styled hair.”
“Just because I look like I belong here, doesn’t mean I do, Mr. Jeong.”
“Wise words for someone so young who doesn’t always make wise decisions, ma’am.”
You exhaled deeply. “Can we get over this as quickly as possible? You came here for a reason, right? Let’s get seated on the living room and-”
“Seats won’t be necessary,” he waved off. “You have to show me around your home.”
“And why would I have to do that?”
“Your husband is overseas on a business trip you’ve said, and I have to get a picture of the physical possessions, with how much money we’re dealing with apart from bank accounts, shares and all that stuff.”
“I see, that makes sense. But nothing here belongs to me, though.”
“That’s even better.” He turned around. “Which room is that?”
“The living room.”
“Great. Let’s start there.” Your lawyer entered the area as though he knew the place by heart while questioning, “You mentioned your in-laws visit here every day, Mrs. Kang?”
“Almost,” you partially affirmed while following him. “I guess they can’t let go of their son… and their need to control me.”
“What would they need to control about you? Are you somehow involved in their business?”
Your lawyer looked around in the gigantic living room that faced the panorama window reaching from the ground to the ceiling on the second floor. The sofa was placed in the middle of the area, right in a pit that was accessible by two steps built into the ground, encircling a marble coffee table probably worth a single-family house. Right next to it was a billiard table, most likely valuable just as much. This was going to be a very long evening, considering the inventory and the prices.
“I’m not involved in their business, Mr. Jeong.” You paused for a short while, invisible struggling with something inwardly. But you came to the conclusion that if you couldn’t tell your attorney, who then? “In fact, I’m secretly building my own one.”
“Oh?” He raised a brow. “Which kind of business?”
You remained silent for a few moments until he shifted to you and looked at you with inquiring eyes. “A bridal shop.”
You had already prepared a few witty responses, because whenever you told people about your business idea, they started laughing at you. Especially your in-laws. They had laughed at you so hard and shrugged your idea off immediately that you had never brought it up to them ever again. And your husband? He hadn’t even acknowledged it. You were not allowed to work in this marriage anyway.
That was why you almost desperately needed to win this case and all your money back - to fulfill your dream and reunite with your family. You could do that. That was how much you believed in yourself. Just nobody else ever did.
“So you like wedding dresses, ma’am?” your lawyer asked almost in passing, but there was no mocking undertone in his voice. “Somehow very ironic for someone who’s filing for divorce, don’t you think?”
“It’s my passion, Mr. Jeong.”
“How come?”
“I told you I will always have hope and I will always believe in love. That’s what I want to pass on as a message to someone like me. Someone who has found the love of their life, no matter for the first, second or third time, someone full of hope and brightness. Just because you haven’t experienced it yet or because one love has ended, doesn’t mean you’ll never experience this special kind of connection ever. It makes me happy to be part of something so significant. It keeps me going, it keeps me… hopeful, you know.”
“So you want to be part of other people’s special day to keep the thought alive that one day, you will still find the love of your life?”
You clicked your tongue over the fact that everything coming out of his mouth sounded so… negative. “If you want to put it like this… I rather see it as an opportunity to share your happiness with equal minded people.”
“Why wedding dresses and not flowers then? Isn’t it more fulfilling to bring joy to people’s everyday life with flowers they give someone else most of the time?”
“You’re right, Mr. Jeong.” You smiled as you did not disagree with each other on this topic. “But my mother is a fashion designer and my father is an art dealer, so that’s the natural trajectory of my life. I love fashion, even if it doesn’t look like it. But there is only very little you can experiment with style-wise when all eyes are on you and you have to keep up a certain reputation according to your in-laws. I hide a lot of pent-up creativity not many people know of.”
“Oh, who would have guessed you’re not always all pantsuits and pencil skirts, Mrs. Kang.” He shrugged. “So you truly believe in it?”
“In what?”
“In love that lasts a lifetime.”
“As I said, Mr. Jeong… if we cease to believe in love… what is there to live for?”
"Wealth. Popularity. Freedom. Fun.” He snickered, but not in a way in which he made fun of you. He was more impressed by his own funny answer.
“But you have no one to share this with. Doesn’t your happiness then only last for so long?”
“Oh, I do have people to share this all with. Just because finding love is not my priority doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the company of beautiful women.”
You let out a deep sigh, but he shrugged your reaction off. Despite that, you had ended the topic on a good note, because for the very first time ever, you were allowed to talk about your passion without getting cut off immediately.
By that time, you had already arrived at the kitchen. It was an impressively wide, open room made of expensive white marble which appeared unused for ages as it was spotless and shiny. As a matter of fact, just as it appeared, it was never used by anyone in this family - that much was true. This kitchen functioned only as a showroom when the family had guests over to lay out the appetizers and the buffet.
“So you have people who cook for you?” your lawyer concluded.
“It’s a personal cook that has gotten hired, yes.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Must be nice being rich, having people cook and clean for you every day.”
“Trust me, Mr. Jeong,” you opposed, “it’s not all that.”
You both then continued on to the second floor, and you could see him turning more and more impressed with the fact how your house was furnished. Not only the first floor was luxurious, but every other room as well. If there was something touching the ground or the walls, one could be sure that its worth came at least close to a small car, from furniture to decoration.
“Do you have to go in there?” you pressed through gritted teeth, and your lawyer rolled his eyes as you both stood in front of the closed master bedroom. “It’s a private area and there is not much inside.”
“Unless you have some secret toys lying out in the open, there is nothing to be ashamed of, we all know what’s going on in bedrooms, don’t we, Mrs. Kang?”
He grinned, unaware of the fact that there hadn’t been something going on in this bedroom for at least a year already. You also suppressed a gasp about his unhinged comment that was not very gentleman-like. But you also weren’t surprised your divorce lawyer, who always told you to play dirty, would leave dirty comments as well. You would just ignore them like the lady you got trained to represent.
“I guess you’re not sharing the bedroom anymore?” your lawyer asked as he wandered around in your private chamber after having opened the space.
“What has this got anything to do with my divorce?” you wanted to know, slightly enraged.
“A lot. If you can confirm that you haven’t shared a bed in quite a time, it’s easier to believe that your marriage has been in the shambles for so long and not a decision simply made overnight.”
“Divorce is never a decision simply made overnight, Mr. Jeong,” you clarified, but he corrected you instantly,
“I didn’t mean it that way, Mrs. Kang. You will wonder how many clients come to me directly the day after they caught their partner cheating and change their minds to return to them a few days later. I want to know how serious you are and that it’s not a decision made on an impulse.”
“I don’t love my husband anymore, Mr. Jeong. Isn’t my tone sincere enough, my expression when I talk about my failed marriage? The fact I go through these lengths at my age?” Your voice got louder and louder, but he didn’t interfere. “But if you need to know about that part of my life too, then yes, I can confirm that my husband and I haven’t shared this bed for a little over a year already as he’s sleeping in his office.”
“Relax, okay?” he comforted you as you had ended your speech. “I was only asking.”
You dropped your head, suddenly ashamed of your slight blow up. “I’m sorry. That’s not… I’m usually not like this.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s normal to feel all these emotions going through a divorce. Sometimes, you need a ventil. It won’t be the last time that you talk to me like that, so let it all out. You’ll be surprised how much it helps.”
He was right, you thought to yourself, feeling a little bit lighter around your chest. But to your disadvantage, you bathed in that moment for a second too long and missed your lawyer opening another door in your bedroom of which he had probably assumed was your walk-in-closet.
“No, don-”
You stretched out your hand and wanted to reach him, but you weren’t fast enough and could only watch the door swing open, revealing a small room next to the bedroom that was certainly too spacious to only be a closet.
Instead, what he found in the room was a crib by the window where dim light was making its way through half-closed curtains. A light shade of yellow had been chosen for the tapestry, matching the beige carpet while the remaining furniture such as the changing unit and the crib itself were white. A few pictures on the walls added a playful undertone to the room, but that was it.
“I was only allowed to choose the pictures,” you explained recently as you slowly approached him. “They are sunflowers in different shapes. You know what sunflowers stand for?” You smiled meekly. “They stand for happiness and joy. This room should have brought me happiness and joy, but instead, it gave me years of sadness.”
He didn’t ask. Perhaps, he could figure it out himself as you had neither mentioned nor brought a child to your appointments with him. If not, then he sensed it wasn’t the right time to push the topic just yet.
“Let’s go,” your lawyer eventually exclaimed and closed the door behind him. “Let’s make your living room a bit messy when I unpack my laptop and we note down the cost of every item in here. That’s gonna be fun!”
He sometimes came off as rude and uncouth, but he knew when to stop talking.
_____
“What’s that?” You unpacked the plastic bag in front of you and pulled out a black long sleeve, black pants, black sneakers and a black beanie as you unsuccessfully attempted to crack a joke, “Were black clothes on sale today?”
“Those are your clothes for tonight.”
“If you haven't noticed yet, Mr. Jeong…” You looked down on yourself. “My style is classic, elegant. Not streetstyle, not coquette, or whatever this is. I’m still representing the family I married into and cannot wear this.”
“I’m sorry, but black cashmere sweaters were not on sale today, ma’am,” your lawyer said, and as you drew a closer look at him, you noticed that he was dressed all in black already too, and not in his usual suit, but more casual, even wearing a beanie himself. “Now undress and change into the clothes that I brought.”
“What would I wear this for?” You lifted up your hands and pulled up the pants. You usually never wore pants. “Where are we going? To the club? I don’t go to clubs.”
“No, we’re going to your house.”
“And why would we need these clothes if we’re going there?”
Somehow, you sensed you wouldn’t like the answer at all. “Because we’re going to rob you.”
“I- I don’t understand. Robbing… me? My home? While I’m there?”
“No.” Your lawyer came over to you, took the beanie out of the bag and then put it on your own head. He pulled the ends down into your face, messing up your slick bun so that a few strands stuck into your forehead. “Fits you perfectly.”
“Do you mean…”
The corners of his lips tilted up. “Exactly. You’re going to rob your own house.”
“Are you nuts?!”
“Ma’am, these words out of your mouth?” He snickered. “Change into the new clothes and then we can go.”
“What should this be good for?”
“It sounds cliche, but you really can’t see people who dress in black in the dark very clearly.”
“No, I mean robbing my home. What should that be good for?”
“Ah, that.” He scratched the back of his head. “When there is nothing of value in the house, then there are no items to fight over, hence less work for us. You said you didn’t care about his possessions, right? Then he won’t have anything left in the morning. We’re only going to grab jewelry and this kind of stuff for you to keep or sell. Just out of spite.”
You gasped in shock. “That’s illegal! I’m pretty sure that’s even a crime!”
“I can guarantee you,” he confirmed, “this is a crime on paper. Remember you told me you could play dirty?”
When you had agreed on playing dirty when it was needed, you had hoped that it was only a formality, that he was exaggerating or just wanted to test your willpower. You had never expected you both standing in front of your dark home in the middle of the night, dressed up as robbers just to do exactly that: commit a robbery.
With your arms crossed to hide your shaking limbs, you looked around nervously, sending a quick prayer to the heavens. Even though you lived on the highest floor and had used several backdoors through the building so that no one would know you had even entered in the first place, you still felt the risk of getting caught any second.
“This doesn’t help me at all,” your lawyer complained while handling the entrance door with different tools that made noises and left traces a little too obvious for your liking.
“There is CCTV everywhere here and you just ruined the door’s frame,” you whispered in agony. “When my husband reports the robbery, they will check the time and date and then see us somewhere!”
“Do you think it’s my first time doing this?” he answered calmly while the door then opened smoothly with almost no sound. You furrowed your brows in question and wondered. Wasn’t the alarm supposed to go off? With a smug smile, your lawyer arose from his position and pushed the door entirely open. “Of course I had let the entire grid be turned off.”
You blinked in confusion. “How?”
“Again, you’ll wonder how far one comes in this country with just a little bribery.”
“That’s not very ethical,” you chided.
“You know what’s not ethical either?” He locked eyes with you. “Your husband taking all the money that’s legally yours from before your marriage, leaving you with no seed capital to start anew, with no prospects. Yes, it’s in the prenup, but what gives him the right to rob you like that just because it’s written on some piece of paper? Ma’am, the world is not a fair place,” he said confidently. “Sometimes, you just have to accept that. So, let’s go on a robbery.”
Your eyes narrowed, your nervosity completely wiped by now. “Let’s start with his office on the ground floor. I know he has some very expensive jewelry stored openly in there.”
Your lawyer’s grin widened. “Perfect.”
He had destroyed the door in a way that carried evidence of forced entry for the police investigation. On your way to the suggested room, you moved through the living area as well, and your lawyer had made it his mission to throw over some chairs and a small side table that had once carried some valuable crystal figurines that your mother in law liked to collect. They then all laid shattered on the floor.
“That was crystal!” you cried out. “Do you know how much it was worth? That was not necessary!”
“We’re on a robbery, not on a shopping trip at Tiffany’s,” he groaned. “Do robbers look like they care about some figurines? They come in a hurry and take everything valuable they can get in a short amount of time. They want the big stuff, gold, silver, money, jewelry… they don’t care for porcelain, vases… or whatever this was, things that are too big and break easily. Remember, we’re robbers, we have to make it look like we don’t care. Now, show me where he keeps his valuables stored.”
“There is way too much valuable stuff. How are we supposed to carry all of it?”
“We won’t.”
Your lawyer moved to the huge cabinet in the living area, stopped there for a moment, and then threw his entire body against the furniture. You let out a loud gasp, and another one as he pushed against the cabinet one more time, bringing it to a fall along with the pieces that were stored inside, instantly shattering in the process. The noise was immense and you had to cover your ears. He might not look like it in his suit, but now that he was only wearing a rather tight shirt, you noticed that your lawyer was very well built and that this was the reason why the cabinet hadn’t stood a chance from the beginning.
He let out a “Phew!” as he turned to you and wiped over his forehead. “You can take on destroying his files and papers, just everything important to him. Let me handle this physical stuff. Don't worry, I made sure the neighbors on the floor beneath weren’t there tonight.”
You understood why you had to do this. If there weren’t many valuable items you had to fight over, the higher would be the chance they would let you off with your own money and the less time and nerves it would take to finalize the divorce, yet the sentiments that tied you to this place…
… they were nonexistent.
Opening all of your husband’s cabinets, rummaging through them and pulling stuff out just to scatter them everywhere felt somewhat very satisfying. You saw all his important files and papers on the ground and stomped on them like a maniac. Everything he worked so hard for, everything he owned while trying to steal from you simultaneously like he had done all your life already. Back in the days, you had just been too young and naive to notice.
You had held back so much during all this time and had never found a way to verbalize your feelings. A lady didn’t do that. A lady was always graceful and just endured. Right now though, you didn’t feel very ladylike. And it was the best feeling in so long.
You only stopped when your lawyer stood there next to you, arms folded across his chest, and there was an edge of mocking delight in his voice when he asked, “You’re done already?”
You lowered your head as he had caught you red-handed, but you also couldn’t wipe off the faint beam that remained on your lips even when he started rummaging through your husband’s cabinets in search of the watches you had told him were stored in there.
“I wasn’t aware he has such a large collection of the most expensive watches in the world,” your lawyer commented when he lightened up a drawer with the flashlight. “If I keep one to myself, would he notice? But then again, he won’t see any of these again anyway. So maybe I should ask you?”
You let out a long sigh and grabbed the watch from him that you then threw into the bag that he had brought along with. “That’s not funny. I think you make enough money to buy yourself an expensive watch.”
“Not this brand, but well…”
You rolled your eyes and continued with the sham robbery on the lower floor before moving on to the second. It was easy to destroy your own belongings as well. You didn’t feel any sentiment as you had expected. Over time, you had grown so resentful, at this point, you just really didn’t care anymore, except for…
“Don’t. Not inside there!” You threw yourself against the door your lawyer had initiated to open. There was no way he didn’t know what kind of room this was after his last visit, so he went in there with a purpose. As you lifted your head, a flash of empathy crossed his face, but you stopped your pleading gaze from breaking eye contact with him. “Please…”
You had been wrong. There was still something your sentiments were tied to in this place, the room where your baby should have lived.
“I’m sorry,” you heard him tell you with the lowest and softest form of tone he had ever addressed you with. “But if we leave this room out, then something is off. We have to at least rummage-”
Your front teeth pressed into your lower lip as you struggled with either making way for him or fighting him. You had hoped that, regardless of how much time had already passed, your past could always remain here as long as you kept this room locked up - just as your memories.
Letting another person inside would mean you had to close this chapter. And even if your therapist back then had also advised you to change this room into another event space and move on, you had never brought your heart to agree to that. What would happen if you moved out eventually? Wasn’t this the best opportunity to finally take this step? But it came so sudden…
“Can I still keep something?” you asked timidly. “My husband never entered this room, so he wouldn't miss anything, and I know what you want to say… I understand. Just please… one thing I can keep for myself? Maybe a jumper or a toy…”
It took a long while until he shrugged and eventually said, “You know… I don’t think there are robbers this cruel who would destroy a baby room. I mean…” He opened the door, but didn’t go inside. “No one would hide valuable possessions inside here anyway. Let’s go.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, and you wondered whether your tone could even carry a tiny fragment of the relief you were feeling right now to your lawyer, expressing how grateful you were for his understanding and gentleness, even though in his world, it might not make much sense at all.
If he noticed the depth of your gratitude after all, with him risking your scam just to leave you this tiny piece of sentiment, then he didn’t bother showing you.
“Now off to my favorite part… the safe!”
“We won’t reach what’s inside there,” you warned him. “I even doubt his beloved mother knows the passcode to that.”
“Oh, we won’t get to steal what’s inside. But we will try. Ever used a crowbar to hit against something? It’s fun! Letting out a little anger. You’ll like it.”
Oh, how much you indeed came to like it.
____
“Very well.”
Your lawyer seemingly skimmed over the police report before he placed it aside on his desk, deeming it as done. Only a week after the incident, you had brought him a copy of the official papers that your husband had filed to confirm that everything was going according to plan.
After your fake robbery, you had pretended to arrive at home and called your husband in feigned shock that sounded so real over the phone, you nearly believed it yourself. Since he had been in a neighboring city only, he had arrived two hours later, and the performance you had put on in front of him and the police was nearly Oscar-worthy.
“Then, you only have to sign this.” Your lawyer had pulled out another set of documents from a staple on this desk and slid them over to you. “Exactly here, please.”
“What is this?” You read something about a bank in a whole other country that was unfamiliar to you, and a bank account under a name that was unfamiliar, too. “I cannot sign for another person.”
“I know. That’s why you will sign as this person whose name the account is booked under.”
“That’s not legal, I could go to jail for that!”
“This again?” your lawyer groaned. “This is the bank account onto which we will transfer all your money and hide it from your husband and his family. It is required for you to make sure you will keep your inheritance. It will take a few weeks, because of course we can’t just book your whole trust fund money onto another bank from one day to the other, it will take a few steps.”
“So basically money laundering,” you concluded cautiously.
“That’s the legal term, yes. I would describe it as…” He pursed his lips as though he was really thinking hard to come up with something. “Playing hide and seek. It’s suddenly gone and you don’t know exactly how long it will take, but eventually, you’ll always find it.”
You rolled your eyes, but signed the papers nonetheless.
“Very well. Now, grab your purse,” your lawyer summoned while he was taking off his glasses and arose from his chair. “We’re going to celebrate.”
“Celebrate? Celebrate what?”
“This success.” He put on his suit coat, circled his desk and picked up your purse from the chair next to you himself, thrusting it into your lap as you hadn’t made any move to reach for it yourself..
“Okay, but where?”
“Can you drink?”
“Not really.”
“Very well, then I’ll teach you.”
You reluctantly got up from your seat as you suspiciously asked, “Is this something you do with all your clients, Mr. Jeong?”
You were only able to watch his back when he opened the door and admitted, “Only with the ones I like.”
While you were still pondering whether his words had been a compliment, he had decided to take you to a shady bar, at a part of the city where you would never set foot in. It was dim and smelled strongly of smoke. The majority of the guests were male, there was a billiard table in the center, and on the menu were only beer and harder beverages.
“This is not the kind of establishment I usually frequent, Mr. Jeong,” you judged harshly while you struggled to find a comfortable position on the bar stool next to your lawyer.
“No, I don’t think you frequent any bar at all.” He had let himself plop on the stool next to you, took off his jacket and ordered two drinks you hadn’t heard of and neither ever sipped on before. “I purposely brought you here. You thought we were going to visit some kind of fancy rooftop hotel bar? Sorry to disappoint you.”
You scanned your environment with raised brows and a look that made men look back at you - but not in the open kind way. They were rather skeptical and curious. Your lawyer was still the best dressed here, everyone else was wearing casual clothes like they had just hopped by after work. They sensed you didn’t belong here, their faces spoke volumes.
“Don’t worry, these guys are harmless and actually nice. They just want a good drink and company before heading home alone, back to their dark and lonely room. It’s just… they don’t see women here that often.”
“I figured that much. What is this place even? Why are we here, Mr. Jeong?”
“It's a place to have fun! Try having fun, will you? Here.” He slid one of the two glasses the barkeeper had just dropped off on the counter closer to you. “Drink. Maybe this will help you to finally loosen up. And drop the ‘Mr. Jeong’-stuff, we’re off duty now.”
You knew there was no way you could say no, and even though you were doubtfully sniffing on the drink, trying to guess what it could be, you had to empty it under your lawyer’s watchful eyes.
“Oh my god!” You were coughing while your entire face heated up. You felt the liquid burning through your throat, making its way all the way to your stomach and settling there with a heat you had rarely encountered before. “What is this?!”
“It’s a drink to have fun! Are you having fun yet?”
“No!”
“Very well.” He downed his own beverage and then raised his hand. “Barkeeper, we need another two of these.”
You didn’t know how long it took for your perception of time to start shifting. You also didn’t know why you didn’t stop drinking, and certainly not why you didn’t say no. He wouldn’t have forced you, that much you were certain of. Maybe it was because you were truly weak. But maybe, in some kind of twisted circumstance, you were truly starting to have fun.
“Here, hold this.” You thrusted your purse and your jacket into Jaehyun’s hands. “I can’t look at this misery any longer.”
You rolled up the sleeves of your blouse and opened the first two buttons before - suddenly feeling not too hot and cramped in your own skin anymore - you strutted over to the men who had gathered around the billiard table, ready to start another set of games.
“May I join?” you asked into the round and earned many curious looks back. “Trust me guys, I’m really good at this.”
You had played billiard in your home so often, it started to bore you the better you got at this game. And with time, it had started to really dread you, because there had never been anyone to play with the many hours a day had to offer.
“Miss, I don’t think-”
“Let her.” You didn’t see him, but you felt Jaehyun’s presence right behind you. Your chest swelled with confidence and pride. “She said she can do it, so let her.”
The men threw questioning looks at each other, but it didn’t take them too long until they all agreed to let you join, and one of them handed a queue over to you. “Ladies first.”
If your confidence had rooted from the alcohol you had chugged earlier, its effect was starting to lack now, because suddenly, you didn’t feel so full of yourself anymore. You bowed down lightly and positioned yourself on one side of the table. You usually started here, playing at home, but abruptly, you got so nervous with all these men looking at you with a certain edge of judgment they were unsuccessfully trying to conceal.
If you failed the game’s opening, there would be no coming back from it, the momentum missed. You would play bad and they would all make fun of you. Maybe it would be better if you just backed down now…
“Well, well, well…”
You felt a palm on your lower back as you made attempts to arise from your position, keeping you in place as the hand gently pressed against the push upwards that you made. Jaehyun was preventing you from giving up.
He bowed down to you and whispered into your ear, “You don’t have to impress anyone. Just loosen up, let it go and have fun.”
You closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. He didn’t retreat his hand when you opened them again and angled the queue. He didn’t retreat his hand when you pulled back and pushed into the billiard balls. He only retreated his hand when you turned around to him, throwing your arms around his neck to celebrate that you had immediately put three balls into the holes.
You didn’t know when your hair had loosened and now fell in soft waves around your shoulders. You didn’t know when you had opened a third and fourth button on your blouse, revealing a bit of your undershirt. You also had lost count of the amount of drinks you had already downed the further the night processed.
But what you knew was that you had incredible fun.
“Did you see that, Jaehyun?” You were jumping up and down in front of him after winning another game against one of the bar visitors. “I won again!”
“Yes.” He smiled softly, like you had never seen before. “Well done.”
You tilted your head, your lipstick long gone, your cheeks heated. “It suits you so well, Jaehyun.”
“What?”
“That smile.” You beamed back. “Maybe you should wear this expression more often than that scorny grin. I like this one better.”
You couldn’t clearly see in the dim lightning, but you could swear you caught his ears turn red, and it was incredibly cute.
“Alright, brandy blossom,” Jaehyun then called out after you had won another game. “Time to go home before your hubby returns.”
“Already?” you pursed your lips and put down the queue.
“You don’t want to be caught reeking of alcohol, all disheveled, right?”
You gasped and stemmed your hands against your hips. “Of course not! Just… another round, please? I need to properly say goodbye to my new friends.”
He gave in, knowing he didn’t stand a chance against the sad face you and the men you had been playing with pulled all at once.
Seemingly annoyed, Jaehyun sighed. “But just one.”
____
“Jaehyun, everything is spinning.” You leaned against him while he put an arm around you and kept you on your feet as you entered the elevator. “And I feel sick.”
“That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let you play another round and have a last farewell drink with the other guests.” He pressed the button and watched the door close in front of you both.
“But I had so much fun,” you said as you looked for support by stemming yourself against the elevator wall. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun. I would do it all over again. Can we do this again sometime, please… Jaehyun?”
You didn’t know if Jaehyun ever replied to that as you closed your eyes and drifted away. You were moving, that much you knew, or was it all in your memory as well? You didn’t use your own body, but felt like you were being carried, not having to put your feet down. You were floating and a slight breeze pulling on the ends of your hair strands suggested that somewhere, a window must have opened, and then you fell…
… but on a soft cloud.
Your eyes reluctantly opened and you saw Jaehyun bending over you, worry sketched all over his face.
“Thank god!” he exclaimed in relief. “I thought you were passed out.”
“I feel so sweaty and smelly, Jaehyun,” you complained to him, starting to unbutton your blouse’s remaining buttons. “I have to change.”
“I’ll bring you the bathrobe.” But he wasn’t able to leave your side as your hand reached out to him and locked him down with a tight grip around his wrist.
“Please don’t go,” you whined, very much under the influence. “I don’t wanna be alone.”
“I won’t”, he spoke with a voice so gently, even in this state you wondered if it was the same person you spoke to about your divorce. You felt a palm touching your temple, swiping away a few hair strands. “I’ll just bring you a fresh bathrobe.”
Still, you refused and shook your head. “Please stay.”
It didn’t take him a second to answer, “Fine, I’ll stay.”
You drew a deep breather, staring at the half-darkened ceiling that was semi blurry in your drunken state. Only a small light was on, somewhere in the corner. Perhaps, it was the alcohol speaking the following words, but suddenly, you got so sad and hid your face by placing your forearm on your head.
“Actually, you know… I’m so scared of getting divorced.”
“Why is that?”
“I’m scared that I’ll be alone all my life, after all.”
This time, Jaehyun’s answer took him much longer as if he was carefully thinking about each word. “You’re the most fascinating woman I’ve ever encountered. You won’t be having any struggles attracting men who are handsome and treat you well, I’m sure about that. Just this time, choose widely.”
“I don’t think I want to get married so fast again,” you confessed. “I think next time, I will take it slow. I want to get a degree and open my business first. Then, I want to get married again.”
“That sounds very reasonable. You hadn’t had a chance to enjoy your youth much.”
“But I don’t want one night stands, flings, short-lived encounters…” You dared to peek from under your arm and eventually withdrew it from your face to look at Jaehyun properly. “What if I meet my true love during that time? Will he wait until I’m ready?”
He spoke with confident sincerity that was reflected in his expression as he assured you, “If he truly loves you, then he will wait.”
“But… I want to experience the love I am able to give. What if there is really only one love we get to have in a lifetime, and he has been this love for me? What if I’ve used up all of my love for this life already?”
“That’s nonsense,” Jaehyun instantly dismissed. “Love is endless, you cannot use it up. Especially you. You have so much love to give, you cannot be the only person out there. You will meet someone whose love is as endless as yours, I promise.”
“How much love have you got left, Jaehyun? Is it still endless too?”
Only at this moment, you realized that you hadn’t let go of his wrist all along. Only at this moment, when he twisted your both’s fingers in a way that intertwined them. Your chest welled up, you hadn’t felt this cared for in what felt like an eternity.
“Yes,” he whispered. “It’s still endless too.”
“Then I’m glad,” you replied with a smile before drifting off to sleep.
____
You didn’t know when you last had fallen asleep with your husband on the same bed, let alone holding hands with him and having his arms wrapped around you from the back. Waking up groggily on your soft bedding, you first saw your intertwined hands resting on your hip, your husband breathing delicately with his face buried in your nape.
It was odd. You didn’t feel put off or disgusted even as normally whenever he even tried to have some kind of body contact with you. No, you felt content, comfortable and warm. So, so warm.
Except for… as your eyes scanned the room, it dawned on you that this was not your house’s wall and neither was that your window you were looking at. This wasn’t your bed either, and behind you was certainly not your husband laying.
“No, no, no!” Your breath caught and you sat up straight on the mattress, waking up your lawyer with your hectic movements. “No, this can’t be!”
“What’s going on?” He instantly arose into a seating position although his eyes were barely opened yet. “You’re leaving already? It’s only… 6am.”
“Yes!” you screeched and escaped the entangled sheets, starting to adjust your pulled up skirt and open blouse. Your cheeks heated up and you turned around, away from your lawyer’s peripheral so as to not reveal more of your body to him than you already had. “I was supposed to be home by last night! Why am I here? Is this a hotel?”
“You were so drunk, you could barely walk and always drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t just bring you home. I just wanted to make sure…” He paused and then shrugged. “Whatever.”
“Oh my god, what do I tell my husband?” You ran your fingers through your disheveled hair and tried to clean your clothes. You could barely remember the last night. “Where is my phone?”
“Here.” Your lawyer held up the device in front of you. “Zero messages and zero missed calls. Can you calm down now, please? I’ll drive you.”
You took your phone into your hand and looked at it in utter confusion. “That’s strange. Usually, he would call me when I’m not home or at least send me a message. Let’s just hope he didn’t bother checking up in the first place, that would be the best case.” A very unwell feeling suddenly crept up your body, laying itself on your chest and slowly cutting off your air. “Something is off. I need to go home. Really, I need to go home right now.”
Rather cold hands suddenly placed themselves on your left and right cheek, cupping your face. Your lawyer looked straight at you with penetrating eyes. “Please, I need you to calm down first. Now.”
You tried shaking your head, but his grip was too strong. “I can’t-”
“Yes, you can.” There was no talking back. He wouldn’t let you go otherwise. “Calm down, then get dressed and I’ll take you home. Spiraling right now is not helpful. Try collecting your thoughts and then act according to it.”
So you tried as he told you and closed your eyes. You took a few deep breathers, but even though you could set your body at peace just a little bit, your heart still refused to do so. And you got a feeling it was not because of what was awaiting you at home, but rather because your lawyer stood so close to you. It was his presence that caused you to be all irritated at this moment.
A few memory threads flowed into each other again, and pieces of last night seeped back into your mind… Your hands around his neck, his soft smile, his gentle words, his arms carrying you to the hotel room, his fingers intertwined with yours, his chest pressed against your back in your sleep…
You looked at him, utterly petrified. Had you just cheated on your husband?
“You’re coming?” he asked.
You followed him out of the hotel room and into the elevator. You didn’t say a single word and he didn’t pick up a topic to talk about either, so you just remained silent and avoided eye contact at all cost. You wondered if he felt the same way about your unexpected intimacy from the night before: guilty and ashamed - against yourself.
That was what you would describe it, but it was not what entirely described the bigger picture. Because why else would you have wished not to be still married right now just to have laid in bed with your lawyer for a bit longer?
“Checkout, please,” you heard him say as you stood next to him, totally lost.
Your husband was an attractive man, but your lawyer… You watched his back bend, messy strands falling into his forehead, a crinkled shirt tightening around his chest. A small part of you that had supposedly taken control over you last night, yearned for him in a way you had never yearned for a man before, not even your own husband.
You suddenly broke out in cold sweat and had to look away, fingers gripping tightly onto the jacket in your hand. You were still a married woman, you were not supposed to feel this way about another man yet, even though you didn’t love your husband anymore. You still belonged to him on paper…
“Let’s go.” Your lawyer looked at you, frowning. “Are you okay? You look feverish.”
He wanted to touch your forehead, but you quickly turned your head away. “I’m fine.”
He didn’t believe you, but let it rest. “Fine.”
You trotted after him, feeling torn about what was morally right and the desires that had started to involuntarily get into your head.
____
Something was off at home, because nobody was there.
You and your husband didn’t speak often except for the necessities. Most of the time, he would sleep at his office in the house, coming back late in the night and leaving early in the morning. Sometimes, when it was very late, he didn’t bother to check up on you at all, assuming you were asleep already. For last night, you had just hoped that it was this exact case.
And just as you were standing there in the lobby, kind of lost and still groggy with a slight hangover starting to announce itself, you got a phone call.
“Hey,” you greeted.
“Hey,” your husband greeted back. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it home last night, and I won’t be able to come back today either. There is too much going on in the company.”
You didn’t bother to care anymore, you hadn’t in a long time. You were just relieved that last night didn’t have any consequences. “I understand.”
“Is mother already gone?”
“M… mother?”
Your blood froze and your vision shifted to a silhouette that was just revealing itself in the corner and slowly stepping into the weak daylight. You had judged too early, weighed yourself in safety too fast as there it was, your consequences.
“Yes,” your husband responded. “Don’t you think it was nice of her to spend the night, because she was worried you would be alone after the robbery? Anyway, I have to hang up and get back to work. Bye.”
Your arm slowly slipped down, fingers barely still holding onto the phone as you looked at your mother-in-law like you were facing a ghost.
“By the looks of it, it seems like someone’s had a rough night.”
You did your best to keep your voice low and conceal the trembling tone that came along with your answer, “I was at a friend’s house last night.”
Your mother-in-law snickered and approached you, her face not changing a bit - the result of year long surgeries. She was smaller than you and certainly older, but something so wicked and deeply evil had always been surrounding this woman that even her own sons wouldn’t dare to look into her eyes without permission.
Secretly, she was the one running and pulling the strings behind the company, the entire conglomerate even, stemming from one of the country’s richest families for centuries. At least that was what she liked to tell, but your research didn’t reveal such connections. That didn’t make her appearance less intimidating though as even her own husband looked small next to her.
“Don’t fool me, darling. You don’t have any friends.”
Two years ago, you would have apologized deeply and fallen to your knees, begging for forgiveness, even if it meant kneeling for days. But you weren’t the intimidated girl from shortly after your marriage anymore. Losing your child had shaped you deeply and the divorce was the final stage, not the process - even though you still had weak moments. You decided this wouldn’t be one of them.
“You don’t know anything about me or my life.”
Somehow, you felt mentally so strong right now and straightened your shoulders to present self-confidence, aware of the fact that even though your way through this divorce was not the prettiest and most legal, it was the most effective. And truth to be told, they didn’t deserve a clean divorce anyway.
“I see it written all over your face,” she snarled. “You’ve been with another man.”
This woman didn’t deserve a glimpse of your new, true self at all.
This woman who had told her son, “If you had just waited half a year more, you wouldn’t have had to marry her and we wouldn’t have this burden in our family now.”
And the son who had just answered, “I’m sorry to be such a disgrace, mother.”
And you, the timid girl, you had just sat with them and swallowed every tear, because nobody in this family was supposed to cry - not even after losing your own child.
You wondered if that had been the moment you started slowly losing the love for your husband who you had deeply loved from the first the moment he struck up a conversation with you at the university where he had been invited to as a guest speaker. Three months in, you got pregnant and another three months later, were married.
You had never graduated with your degree, but you hadn’t cared, because you had loved him deeply. For you, it had always been enough - but never for his family. It struck you the moment you had lost your baby and fell from grace.
For two more years, you had wondered whether you could restore the fading love or find another way to feel so deeply again. You had been stuck in a limbo where you questioned if it was some strange form of Stockholm Syndrome you had developed or whether you were just too weak of a person to break free, too afraid to never find love again.
When one night two months ago, you had found your husband all immersed in work and family problems on the death anniversary of your child which he clearly had forgotten about, you had finally figured that he was a simple man who would always be under the control of his mother. There was no need to fight for what had long been lost. You were much stronger alone.
“You are only still here, because a divorce is a disgrace, never forget that and be grateful you have everything you need. Other women would happily trace places with you.”
“Then let them!” It was the first time you heard yourself raising your voice against her. “Let them replace me! You know we don’t love each other anymore, why don’t you let me go then?”
“Oh, darling.” Your mother-in-law stretched out her hand and touched your cheek. It felt ice cold, but you couldn’t move as your body turned to stone. “I would have, but you’re just so easy to keep here, why bother in the first place? I can keep you low and our reputation stored, it’s much better than dealing with a hassle.”
No, you weren’t easy to keep anymore anymore, you were just very good at hiding all of it and keeping up your facade. Maybe before, you would have caved and given in. Maybe before this all, you would have crouched in front of her. Maybe, before you hired your lawyer, you wouldn’t have had these thoughts at all. But only the imagination of him gave you everything you needed to fight back years of suppression.
“I’m not scared of you.”
The slap came unexpectedly, leaving a visible mark on the side of your face. You gasped for air as you held onto the burning skin, your senses not coming together just yet over what had just happened. It felt like the spot got handled with many needles trying to push through a thin layer.
“The next time you’re robbing your own house, make sure to not leave footprints all over the scattered papers, the police might be onto something. I don’t know who’s helping you, if that person is a criminal or your affair, but if you really have some kind of shady thing going on behind my back, I will take you down and your entire family with you.” A threat so sharp that cut through the air like a knife. “Nobody knows about this, so I will do you a favor and keep it between us. If you continue with whatever you’re planning, I promise you, you will regret it deeply.”
Your family… you didn’t know when you had last seen them. You missed them dearly and there was no way you could put them in danger.
That was the only thing you could think of before you snapped back to reality as the entrance door closed behind you.
____
“Who did this to you?”
Your lawyer was kneeling in front of you, inspecting your bruised face with hands so gentle and a gaze so soft, it reminded you all of last night. You were sitting on the couch in his office, legs pulled up to your chest, staring at him but at the same time through him.
“Who?” he asked again as you didn’t respond, this time more insistently. He jumped back to his feet. “Who did this to you? Your husband?! I’m gonna k-”
Reluctantly, you shook your head. “No, it was my mother-in-law. She knows.”
“She knows about what? Whatever she knows, it doesn’t give her the right to physically abuse you!” You had never seen him this agitated and furious before as he walked around his office in a haste, apparently in search of something.
“She knows that I’m onto something… with someone,” you admitted, fearing that he might get angry as you had not been careful enough. “She mentioned my shoe’s footprints over the scattered papers on the ground… I walked all over them, remember?”
“So what?” your lawyer dismissed in an instant. “This doesn’t mean anything. If this divorce makes it to the court, no judge will pay attention to this detail. You live in the house, naturally your footprints will be somewhere.”
You lowered your head, but sensed him walking back to you and pressing something against your cheek, providing instant relief to your burning skin. It was an empty, cold glass. “Sorry, I don’t have anything else here. I hope it helps.”
“Thank you.”
“What else did she say?” he inquired. “Whatever she said, I promise you, in this divorce, I will wring her out until she’s dry and has nothing left anymore. Then, I will push even further, that much I can do.”
“She’s right with everything she’s said to me,” you whispered absent-mindedly, rotating the glass on your skin so that the spot would always meet a cold surface. “I’m so easy to keep, that’s why I’m still there.” It was a paradox to you how a much older and tinier woman had brought up enough strength to hurt you this deeply, inwardly and outwardly. “But what was I supposed to do all this time? I’m from a reputable family and have willingly signed this contract, giving away my rights, my freedom. It was very convenient for them… I was only a convenience that had come along at the right time as their son wasn’t married yet. And then, I couldn’t even bear my child, and it turned me into a disgrace in an instant.”
“Stop!” your lawyer called out, bracing his arms against his desk that then creaked under his weight. His eyes were forcibly closed and there was a huge frown forming on his face. “Don’t ever talk about yourself like this again!”
“But it’s the truth!” you protested. “She may not be in the right, but she is right about me! I willingly agreed to cut off contact with my family, friends, everyone. And then it takes me two years to do something against it! Let’s face the truth…”
“Don’t say that,” he pleaded lowly, his knuckles turning white as he added more pressure to his grip against the desk’s edge. “It’s not like you. You were always so full of hope, in a fighting mode.”
“I still am!” you disagreed. “I still am full of hope and fighting, but let’s face the truth... I’m so young and I will have been through a divorce in the near future. I’ve lost a child, I don’t have a degree, no money for now, no prospects. Who would even want me anymore?”
You didn’t except an answer, it was only a rhetorical question, but he still gave you one,
“Me. I would.”
You heaved up your head, expecting to encounter a grin as your lawyer had just joked around to lift up your spirits in a meek attempt, but as you met his gaze, your breath caught. He was not kidding. He was dead serious, and by now you could quite well distinguish between his serious and joking demeanor.
“Jaehyun…”
His brows drew together, and he eventually broke out in a relieved smile, just a little bit. “Finally, you call me by my first name, even now.”
“Mr. Je- Jaeh-” You shook your head in confusion. You suddenly didn’t know what to think, say or even feel anymore. “Please don’t joke around, now is not the time.”
“I’m offended that you think I’m joking after all this time. I don’t make jokes about that.”
You dropped the glass on the cushion and jumped out of your seat, moving to the other end of the office room, far away from him. You couldn’t bear being so close to him with all that nonsense that he was speaking, because you feared that a big part of you wished for it to become true.
“You know that I am looking for my one true love.”
“Who said it can’t be me?”
“I’m still married to Kang Seungmin.”
“Then I will have to hurry up with the divorce papers.”
“I want to get a degree and open my business before marrying again.”
“I’m willing to support that and wait.”
“You’re so full of life and I’m so broken.”
“Then I’ll bring you back to life too.”
Why did everything he say sound so illogical, yet so tempting? If life was only that easy as he always made it seem with his shady business, maybe there was still hope for you, too. You longed for the lighthearted young woman you had been in the past, and something inside you, maybe the remnants of her, believed that with him, she could find her way back to the surface.
“You don’t understand the depths of my trauma, you cannot love me, Mr. Jeong.” You turned back to the couch and picked up your purse. Walking towards the door, you told him, “I wish we would have met before all of this happened. I wish you would have met me when I was still in university. You would have liked me more back then and my life would have turned out differently.”
“Your life can still turn out differently, because it doesn’t matter when we would have met. I would have liked you all the same.”
You wanted to walk out, but your fingers remained on the door handle, refusing to move. Your cheeks were burning, but on both sides and for an entirely different reason now than shortly before. You were crying hot tears that were streaming down your face. “You don’t know what you’re saying…”
Suddenly, you felt his hot breath against your neck and flinched. But he didn’t touch you, no matter how desperately you wanted it, and you continued to fight against this desire.
“We can also fall in love now, forget about the past and start again.”
“This is what you cannot understand,” you spoke earnestly. “I can never forget about the past, Mr. Jeong. And I refuse to do so, because it’s a part of me and will become a part of my partner too. My current husband has failed to allow this to happen to him.”
Then, your fingers were finally moving and you slipped out of his office. You used the stairs this time, running all the way to the ground floor. Only outside of the building, you were ready to come to a standstill and start breathing regularly again. You were sweating unlike ever before, hot and cold waves washing through your body.
But you continued your way by walking, walking all the way home, whether directly or in circles, you didn’t know. You just kept walking until it was nighttime, until you returned to your house where emptiness was awaiting you.
And as you stood there, alone in the darkness, you wondered how long it would take for it to consume you entirely.
You refused to let it get this far. Not again.
____
A few days later, you were standing in front of a grave that you generally avoided visiting except for only one time a year. The pain was too much to bear alone as nobody had ever bothered to accompany you.
This year, you were here for the second time - but this time you had company.
“I’m sorry if the things I’ve said back then were too insensitive,” Jaehyun apologized. “Just because I’m older doesn’t mean I’m more experienced. Of course I don’t know anything about your pain.”
“That’s why I brought you here,” you told him, your look unwavering from the small tombstone. “I want to share it with you. If you still want to love me after this, then I will believe you.”
…
When you found out that you were pregnant, you weren’t shocked like so many girls your age, who had just entered university, would generally feel.
You were head over heels in love with your boyfriend who, despite your huge age gap and his position in the company, had made it his priority to shower you with gifts and love. That this was considered ‘love bombing’ and ‘grooming’, you would only figure out later. Up until this day, you were still convinced your love for him was real. It just wasn’t your fault that you were an easy target. It was his fault that he had even approached you in the first place as a grown man ten years older than you.
It only took one time for the two stripes on the test to appear. His happiness wasn’t feigned, and neither was yours. Of course you would drop out of university and get married. Marrying into this family would mean to never have to work anymore anyway and only caring for your child and husband. The fact that this was all convenient for a man who couldn’t keep a woman his age and was under so much pressure from his family, you would only figure out later.
It was a shotgun wedding, but of course that wasn’t what was written all over the news. To his family’s luck, you weren’t showing yet and from a reputable background, but you had to hurry up with the wedding nonetheless. You were anticipating this child so much, even though your family tried to sabotage your wedding. That was probably why you were so easy to get talked into cutting off all contact with the people related to you. They didn’t understand you. The fact that they only tried to warn and save you, you would only figure out much later.
You signed away your inheritance, because what was yours was his, and thus for your child and every future child as well, it sounded all logical. You felt loved and cared for unlike ever before. Why be with your unsupportive family when every love and warmth you could find with your husband’s family? Other people looked for love all their lifetime and were unsuccessful. You were lucky to have found the love of your life at an early age.
The fact that the people who told you you were too young to marry were not jealous, but only caring, you would only figure out much later…
… when you were lying in your bed with cramps so bad, you thought you were going to die. Except that it was the child inside of you, who was almost due to be born, was the one dying.
There hadn’t been any signs. He had been healthy. Yet, somehow, his heart had stopped beating.
They took your baby out with a c-section, you had only held him in your arms once. Nobody had shown up to share this incredibly painful moment with you.
This moment that had dragged you into a darkness which would take you years to break free from.
…
“Suddenly,” you continued, speaking to Jaehyun, “I wasn’t the beloved daughter-in-law anymore. I was a disgrace. If I cannot keep a baby, why bother about me? My body cannot function properly, it refuses to act according to nature. Nobody looked at me the same way anymore, not even my husband. While my mother-in-law confronted me with disgust and anger whenever we met, it was disappointment that was mirrored in my husband’s eyes. He wanted to try again, his mother wanted him to. They didn’t give me a moment to mourn my stillborn child.”
“Did he…?” Jaehyun started, unable to speak out the words, but you shook your head.
“She insulted him many times, but he never did anything against my will. We did genuinely try though, I didn’t want to give up on my marriage, but I think my body already had. Sometimes, I caught him lying to his mother that we were trying when we had long stopped. This, I’m grateful for. But it made her hate me even more, because I’m in the wrong as I cannot conceive according to her.”
“This is horrible…”
You stood there, side by side, looking at your baby’s grave. “Sometimes I think he knew what kind of life was awaiting him and chose to not join me. I would have been a horrible mother under these circumstances.”
“He?”
“My baby was a boy.”
“No.” Jaehyun shook his head and suddenly reached for your hand. He was holding it for a long time, before he eventually said, “You would have been the best mom, no matter the circumstances.”
“So why is my baby not with me now?” you sobbed. “Why did it leave me?”
This was a question you were asking yourself over and over again, ever since it had happened. Your therapist had advised you to let go of these thoughts and the guilt, finally breaking free from that darkness by moving on. But you just couldn’t and had stopped going to the sessions from then on. She hadn’t understood the depths of your pain either - or so you had thought.
“Maybe,” Jaehyun started and removed his hand from yours to put it on your shoulder and shift you around to him instead. “Your baby didn’t leave you. Maybe your baby just sensed it wasn’t the right time and is waiting to come back to you when you’re ready again. Then, you’ll see each other again.”
You cried even harder at this point, only slowly realizing that Jaehyun had his arms wrapped around you now, embracing you tightly. Somehow, you had missed someone like this throughout all the years of pain, someone who listened, who was willing to share your suffering, who made it all more durable. Someone who was finally seeing you and acknowledging the depths of your pain.
Had your lawyer been this person all along and it was meant for you to only find him now when you were ready for it?
“I like that thought,” you brought out under tears. “That I will see my baby again.”
“And your baby will also see your family and friends. I will make sure of that.”
“Jaehyun…” He pressed your face against his chest and rested his chin on the top of your head, tenderly brushing over your hair.
“I still want to love you. With all your pain, all your scars. I still want to love you.”
This time, you believed him.
Even more so when you came back to the grave a few days later. You didn’t want to run away anymore. If you freed your pain and didn’t lock it away in an abandoned room, it would grow easier to be a part of your life. That was why you wanted to confront your darkness and pay visits to your baby’s grave more frequently.
… Only to find out that someone had been here shortly before you, leaving a bouquet of fresh lilies.
Jaehyun really wanted to love all of you, past and present.
____
“These are the finished documents.”
Your divorce file was thick. You were sitting at Jaehyun’s desk and were only skimming over the first few pages. Every single paragraph was dissected and laid out very carefully, in every little detail so that no word could be misunderstood.
You didn’t know why you had failed to pay attention to this before, but Jaehyun was incredibly intelligent and determined. He must have worked almost restlessly on these papers and had really meant it when he had said to hurry up with.
“What’s going to happen now?” you asked, hesitant to hear the answer.
“I will send this file to your husband and he will probably consult his own lawyer. Which is legally his right, even if he agrees on everything. Depending on how much he or his family wants to change, it will take months to… years negotiating, going back and forth.”
Years…
You had told Jaehyun to wait until you were a divorced woman. That much respect you still had for your husband, even though you had already taken off your wedding band. And truth to be told, you were still unsure about Jaehyun. It wasn’t a decision you could make overnight at such a state, you had only loved one man in your life so far. Your next choice had to be the right choice, and how could you have already figured out if he was the right choice?
You didn’t want to get married on and off, it wasn’t supposed to be that easy, so you had to be as sure as possible. But then again, you had been fooled once by the love of a man close to your possible future lover’s age. How was it possible you weren’t going to be alluded into a marriage by false promises and hopes again? You might be a bit older and wiser than back then, but did it also apply to your heart?
“This is the toughest part,” Jaehyun continued explaining. "Negotiating. But I will always be by your side, remember that, I will accompany you on every step.”
You wondered whether negotiating with your husband or resisting your lawyer would be harder for you to do in the future.
“Then I will probably need a place to stay during the entire process. I should move to a hotel first and then go from there.”
“There is no need,” Jaehyun dismissed and got up from his chair. “I have a place for you to stay.”
You tilted your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Let’s go.”
You took his car and he drove to a part of the city, far outside of the bustling center, which you hadn’t stepped foot in in years, even though it was close to your current neighborhood. This was where you had grown up, this was where you had spent the majority of your life. This was the area where your parents lived.
The car came to a stop right outside of your family’s house.
“Here we are.”
You turned your head away from the window, the sight of your childhood home causing tears to well up behind your eyes. “I’m not supposed to come here, Jaehyun.”
“Says who?”
“The contract.”
“The contract is bullshit,” he blatantly called out. “Who would have even controlled whether you came here? No one. You could have come here all the time without anyone noticing, you know that. You just… didn’t want to or couldn’t bring yourself to. Am I right?”
He had called you out, and you couldn’t close your ears from the truth much longer. He was right. No one had ever controlled you. Perhaps, they hadn’t had to as by your mother-in-law, you had always been too weak to go against the rules. When you had grown out of this phase though, it was long too late to make amends.
“In the beginning, my family and friends all tried to reach out to me. But whenever we talked, I only heard ‘You’re too young to marry, don’t do it!’, ‘Come home, you don’t need to stay there’, and much more. I dismissed their words, I thought they weren’t happy for me and didn’t understand me. So I eventually cut off any form of communication which was aided by my mother-in-law taking away my phone after catching me calling my mother once. They never knew I was pregnant, I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone. I had a new family who would take care of me, I didn’t need them anymore. Until I was all alone at childbirth and knew I had made the wrong decision.”
“The more you tell me about your in-laws, the bigger my desire grows to unalive them with my bare hands.”
You nervously kneaded your fingers, your gaze fixed on the movements. “It was their form of manipulation, isolating me from everything and everyone that could change my mind and open my eyes to the truth. Eventually, my trauma had done the job. It also made me realize that I am the one to blame too. I could always reach out in other ways, but never did. With time, my guilt grew to such an extent that every form of reconnection would spiral me into much deeper guilt. So I gave up like they have given up on me. It was easier to think this way as I could never forgive myself for the things I’ve said and done.”
“But they’ve never given up on you.”
You shrugged. “You wouldn’t know.”
“Except that I do. Why else would we be here?”
Your head snapped up and you looked at Jaehyun, then outside of the window in the direction of your house where at the same moment, the entrance door opened, that much you could see over the high metal fence surrounding the garden.
“What…” You were lost for words.
“Like you will never stop loving your child, your parents will never stop loving you too, no matter how many irrational decisions you make, no matter how many cruel things you say to them. You will always have their love,” Jaehyun explained slowly so that you could process at the same time. “A few days ago, I looked for them, drove here and explained the situation. But I left out a few important parts as it is entirely your story to tell them. I think you will have a lot to talk about in the upcoming days. Look, they’re waiting for you already.”
It was at this moment that you realized that you had never experienced love in its purest form.
Until now.
And you weren’t referring to your parents as that was another form of love, family love. You weren’t referring to your friends either as that was platonic love. You certainly weren't referring to your husband either as that had turned out to only be conventional love.
You were referring to Jaehyun going through lengths to reconnect you with your family along with many other things. You suddenly weren’t alone anymore. Life suddenly looked so bright and full of hope when you had someone to also share the happy moments with.
You weren’t alluded by false hopes and promises. He was a man of words and actions unlike anyone you had ever met before. And if this wasn’t true love, then what was? There was no guarantee, no glimpse into the future. There was only your heart following a path he shaped for you in the purest form possible, hoping that one day, you would return his feelings.
“Jaehyun, I-”
“Wait.” He cupped your face and smiled when you were facing each other. “It can wait. Go to your parents first. Take your time. Then, you can come to me and tell me everything you want to tell me, alright?”
“Thank you.” And these two words couldn’t even express the entirety of gratitude you felt towards him, among so many other things.
He gave you a kiss on your forehead, then watched you open the door, walking towards your parents.
____
Jaehyun wasn’t having a good day.
In fact, he hadn’t had a good week altogether.
He was grumpy with his employees, sloppy with his files and overall not at the peak of his law-game. His assistant had to point out mistakes in the papers more than several times and was already overly annoyed before he said goodbye for the week, leaving Jaehyun alone in his office.
He missed you incredibly, and it was messing with his usually organized and cool head. Suddenly he caught himself by what he had been trying to avoid all along: emotions caused by love.
Jaehyun had known what it was the moment you went to the bar together, hair flying carefreely around your heated cheeks. Back then, he had only wished to keep the smile on your face forever, it suited you so much better than the stern and calculated look. Having you wrapped in his arms, he had been awake for the majority of the night that followed, thinking about how he could protect you from a world this cruel, a world that had treated you so unfairly all your life, causing you all this pain that nobody should ever endure.
Jaehyun had never been afraid to love, but afraid to admit that he was secretly looking for a lifelong love too, just like everyone else. After all, he was proven every day by wives consulting him that true love was just a misconception and people were mere life partners that eventually parted ways to look for someone new. His job was to break love, not to create it. And now he was finding himself in exactly that state…
… head over heels in love with a woman he never wanted to let go again. A woman whose absence drove him crazy, because every minute he was parted from her felt like a lifetime. Jaehyun certainly had been in love in the past, but he had never gone through these extents for someone outside of his profession.
It made him question his choice of occupation nowadays. And ironically enough, this train of thoughts led him to your husband of whose lawyer he hadn’t heard anything at all. The divorce papers had certainly been delivered to him, but no one had reached out to him in return yet. He made it his mission to take care of this tomorrow.
From the corner of his eyes, Jaehyun saw his office door open and a person walking in, pulling him out of his thoughts. He was currently storing away some files and ready to head home as well.
“We’re closed already, come back tomorrow and make an appointment with my secretary.”
“But I need an appointment right now, Mr. Jeong.”
Jaehyun’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest in happiness when he heard your voice and shifted around. But the woman in front of him didn’t have much in common with the woman who had intruded his office back then.
Instead of pant suits, pencil skirts and high heels, you were wearing a long flowy skirt, a matching blouse and flats. Your hair was falling loosely over your shoulders like the night in the bar, and Jaehyun was sure he had never seen you this beautiful and full of life before. And if it was possible, he loved you even more now.
He dropped the files on the desk and straightened his shoulders. “How was the time with your parents?” he asked, reluctant as to what to do next. He didn’t want to push you, even though there were a million other thoughts in his mind right now and none of them had anything to do with small talk.
“We talked a lot. We cried a lot together, too,” you summarized for him, and he noticed that even your way of speaking had changed. You sounded more confident, but instead of it stemming from your insecurities, it rooted from deep and dripped with sincerity. “It was good, taking a few days off to think about everything.”
“And to what conclusion did you come to?” Jaehyun didn’t know why this question made him so nervous.
A faint smile tugged on the corners of your lips. ”I came to the conclusion that time is too precious to be wasted, Jaehyun. I’ve lost so much time with my parents just because I was weak, and I won’t get it back, nor can I turn it back. I can only do the best with our remaining time from now on. But there is no way I will make this mistake of losing my time with someone I love again.”
Jaehyun took a deep breather, trying to keep his composure. “You wanted to wait until your divorce, until you were sure.”
“I know.” You paused. “But when I thought about what I would regret more… I just couldn’t stand the thought of seeing you moving on, maybe with another woman. And it might be not in your book now, but how do we know what the future brings? I would only regret letting you go without even trying. I was never given a choice, but this, this is my choice. You gave me a choice. And I decided for this, I want this, Jaehyun.”
He cleared his throat and reached for his tie, loosening it a bit as he thought it currently cut off his breathing. “Do you know what you’re saying?” He took a stop towards you. “Be careful.”
You snickered - a tone that sounded like music in his ears - and took a step towards him as well.
“Mr. Jeong, I’m willing to play dirty in private as well. Where do I sign?”
____
Jaehyun wiped his desk free with one hand. Documents, pens, his notebook and even a lamp dropped to the floor, but luckily did not shatter. You let out a gasp, first because you got startled by his impulsive action, and then because he had picked you up and sat you on the desk.
You almost physically felt the electrifying tension between your faces that had built up over the past few weeks, and as your lips came crashing down on each other, it was like sparks flew into every direction to finally celebrate the release of all this pent-up desire.
Jaehyun’s lips were warm and soft, and very demanding. His hands were holding onto your face, angling you up to him as though he wanted you whole, taste, scent and all. Never in your life had you been kissed with so much passion and longing, being claimed in a way a woman could dream of.
You had been intimate only with your husband before, and where lovemaking with him was quiet, lukewarm and quite trite, the onset of the very same act with Jaehyun pushed up too high of what was ever possible in your sole imagination.
You were wild, fiery and loud. Oh, you could have never imagined to be that loud during the act. You threw your head back as Jaehyun kissed your neck, leaving wet trails where his lips passed. Letting out a moan, you spread your legs wider and pulled him close between your thighs. You chuckled silently when you felt him having grown so much already.
Goosebumps covered your legs as you felt him reaching under your skirt and pulling up the fabric. Jaehyun’s hands were roaming over your thighs, moving back and forth across your skin, and you simultaneously grew very hot in places you had long forgotten about. He tugged on the waistband of your panties, his fingers sliding between your folds and slowly rubbing there, causing you to catch your breath because of the intensity of the sensations.
Everything was going too slow for you now, and you wanted all of him all over you, inside of you. An inner voice was screaming desperately after him.
Suddenly, you halted.
“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asked, worried.
“I… I don’t know how this works anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“... this. Is it silly?”
You drew your brows together, expecting to be laughed at, but Jaehyun just smiled mildly and tucked a strand of your loose hair behind your ear. How could you have ever thought he’d make fun of you? He never had.
“Nothing is silly. You were just so into it, what’s gotten into your mind?”
“I don’t know if I’m going to be… good. And I have… scars.”
You threw a meaningful gaze at him, hopeful he’d understand without many more explanations, and he did. You wouldn’t be his chosen woman if you weren’t still putting so many thoughts into one single action.
“You still have problems to loosen up,” he concluded. “But don’t worry. If you trust me completely, it will all be fine and I will help you get your head free. So… do you trust me fully?”
It only took you a near-whispered “yes” before he swept you off the desk and carried you, with your thighs tightly wrapped around his waist, to his couch. Not even a minute later, you found yourself with your skirt all draped around your hips and your panties hanging loosely on one of your feet.
You didn’t see Jaehyun’s head anymore, only feeling his hair in a tight grip where your panties should have been, seeing stars dancing across the ceiling that you were currently facing while he ate you out like he had all the time in the world, sensually and delicately.
His tongue dragged along your folds that had long gotten wet the first time his mouth came close to your core. Gone were all your worries and doubts, there was no room to think about anything else than he way he was devouring you now, licking and sucking between your thighs until your eyes rolled back and his name fell from your lips like hurried prayers, interrupting his slurping sounds,
“Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun…”
You angled your knees as you felt something tightening inside your lower stomach that you couldn’t pinpoint. It had first started off as a small spark, but was now coiling into something bigger that tugged on every fiber of your body. You were quite sure the fact that Jaehyun sucked on your clit and simultaneously thrusted his fingers inside of you was responsible for this indescribable feeling, more so when he grabbed you by your bare cheeks with his hands and pressed you against his mouth even stronger.
You had had orgasms before. At least that was what you had thought. They had come like a small wave, giving you a pleasant feeling and luring a silent sigh out of you, and that had been it. This orgasm right now though was on a whole other level.
Your whole body tensed up as though trying to protect itself from what was about to come, but no resistance in the world could withstand the persistence of the man who loved you to make you feel good. The coiled up sensation exploded inside of you the moment you thought you were going to die from endless pleasure, and then spread not only into your body, but also mind.
There was no control over how your body reacted, you held onto Jaehyun’s head like a lifeline with your head lolled back, and screamed his name as though in need for help, your body leaking fluids in places you would have been originally embarrassed for, but Jaehyun loved it, every single reaction he was able to lure out of you.
Underneath him didn’t lie the uptight, suppressed woman anymore, in pantsuits and with no hair out of place. It was a new woman he had now unraveled, with wild hair, heated cheeks, liberated and eager to explore worlds she had never set foot into before. And he would guide her all the way into his world.
With a grin, Jaehyun wiped over his smudged mouth while you were still trying to catch your breath, but eventually returned his expression, ready for more. His fingers were trembling a bit when he first got rid of your skirt and then unbuttoned your flowy blouse.
A flash of concern ran through your face in the blink of a moment when he undid the last button, but he understood. He helped you out of the garment, and when you eventually laid back again in front of him, bare-chested and naked from head to toe, he saw.
Jaehyun left no room for you to mistrust him though. Undressing himself from head to toe first, he then kneeled in front of you on the cushion and leaned in. With warm fingers, he reached out to your lower abdomen and then gently touched the spot of which you had been so afraid to let him see.
But the c-section-scar was a part of you and Jaehyun loved every single bit. “You’re so beautiful,” he let out, and you believed every single syllable.
He had you tightly embraced with your legs around his waist when he slowly but deliberately pushed into you. At first, it hurt quite a bit, because you hadn’t had been this intimate in so long, but when it showed on your face with a frown, Jaehyun paused and made sure you still truly wanted this with soft kisses on your temple and mouth, so that the tightness vanished almost right away.
He was settled inside of you, thick, full, and pulsing, and even though this was so much for you to take already, you wanted him to move, needed him to move. When he didn’t instantly do so though, you nearly embarrassingly pushed up against him and tried to get a tiny bit of gratification by yourself.
Jaehyun laughed lowly and kind of threateningly. “Take deep breaths first, because you are in for a long ride.”
You winced when he pulled out and only let his tip remain, because you feared he would stop right here, but then met him with a breathless gasp when he slammed back into you full force. It cost you all the air in your lungs, but you needed him to do it again as well, because it had hit a spot you had always been convinced had never existed for you in the first place.
But it did. And Jaehyun penetrated it with every thrust that he alternated between fast and shallow and slow and deep. The couch’s cushion got wet and sticky under you, and your screams only grew louder too, but you didn’t mind and didn’t care, especially not when he suddenly flipped you over and you were sitting on him, having him sheathed deep inside your core.
“You’re so beautiful”, Jaehyun repeated. He stretched out his hand and curled a lock of your hair between his fingers that he then slid down along your breast, scar and let it eventually rest on your hip. “Ride me,” he then pleaded, “ride me, please.”
Despite the fact that you had never done that before, the motions came to you naturally with the guidance of his grip around your waist. It felt good for you to decide how deep and in which angle you wanted to have him, and as you were sliding along him, you felt another orgasm nearing that you unfortunately failed to chase.
“Out of breath?” Jaehyun asked, lids heavy after enjoying this sight too much.
“I want to cum again,” you confessed, “but somehow…”
Jaehyun returned to his former position, but this time, placed either of your legs across his left and right shoulder. You didn’t know what else he was doing, but when he filled you all up from the inside again, you were feeling him so deeply and intensely like never before.
The second orgasm for this day found its root not in the pit of your stomach, but feeded on every inch of your body, so that it was an experience that left you shaking with all limbs, Jaehyun following along in long spurts across your stomach.
“I’ve never imagined sex to be like this,” you admitted when you laid in his arms shortly later, a thin blanket draped over you. The office had long closed.
“Like what?” Jaehyun asked and kissed your temple.
“So good.”
He laughed and pulled you closer to him. “That was not even my best performance yet, trust me.”
You opened your mouth in wonder. “You can do it even better? I can hardly believe it.”
“You want to try?” he challenged. “Don’t worry, we have all the time in the world to try out everything you want.”
“Okay,” you agreed. “All the time in the world, for sure. But maybe we can still start with it tonight. You never know-”
You didn’t have to call out to him twice before he disappeared under the blanket.
____
“I must say, I’m impressed. I didn’t expect this from you.”
The photos landed in front of your feet.
They showed everything.
Jaehyun and you entering your home dressed all in black, Jaehyun and you leaving the bar together, Jaehyun and you in the car in front of your parents’ house, Jaehyun and you coming out of his office at different occasions. There were even photos from yesterday after you both had…
You stood in the living room, petrified, not even your eyes were able to move to look directly at the person that was approaching you.
“You must wonder how much truth someone can spill when you just offer them more bribery money than the original party,” your mother-in-law said. “Needless to say, the security guard no longer needs his job here after providing me with the respective videos. And the rest was the dedicated work of my private detective. I sensed that something was off and hired him shortly after reading the police report on the seeming robbery.”
When you eventually lifted up your head, she stood there, looking at you with much disgust. It was at that moment that you realized you lost. She was holding the divorce papers in her hands. They had never reached your husband first, but had directly landed in her hands instead.
“I don’t care,” you sighed deeply. “I don’t care anymore. I will sign anything, I am willing to lose everything. Just… let me go. Please, just let me go.”
You didn’t want the money, you didn’t need it. Money would come back, but time didn’t, and every bit of energy you still invested in this family felt like you were losing a bit of your lifespan. You just wanted to leave and live a life dedicated to your loved ones from now on.
“Fine.” You halted, waiting for her to continue as you could almost not believe what she had just said. It couldn’t be so easy. “I am willing to let you out of this marriage, under one condition.”
Of course there would be. “What?”
“I’ve dedicated my entire life to keeping this family together,” she elaborated, “and my hard work paid off when I married off my first son well, making him the CEO of the conglomerate at the same time. My second one… well, he was always a little too spoiled and never under as much pressure as his older brother. But I let it pass, because as long as our reputation didn’t get stained, I wouldn’t look at it twice. I now wish I had as he only grew foolish and reckless. How else would he have gotten the idea of falling in love and getting an almost teenager pregnant out of wedlock?”
“This fact, we can agree on. But it was your fault that he grew up the way he is now,” you stated in defense. “He has never learned to deal with emotions, and whenever problems occurred, you were there to clean it all up regardless of the people getting hurt along the way. It was partially your family’s responsibility to make sure I was taken care of accordingly. The moment we married, I was your responsibility, too.”
Your mother-in-law screwed up her nose. “I did take care of these things my way.”
“And they were wrong!” you raised your voice, hoping that somehow, you could still speak some sense into her. “You pressured me to sign a contract of which its repercussions I could not have known at that time yet. It was my right to consult a lawyer, but I was never given a choice just like your son has never been given a choice. I was only nineteen and stripped of all my future!”
“A child out of wedlock would have destroyed everything I’ve worked so hard for,” she pressed through her gritted teeth, reluctant to admit this. “I did it all to protect my family!”
You shook your head. “And look at that family now. Was it all worth it? Was it worth the life you’re living right now?”
She didn’t know the answer to that apparently. “If you had only borne that child like my son wanted so desperately too, the problems would have all dissolved themselves. I would have endured you. Maybe you could have been a happy little family after all. But even for that, you were too weak.”
It stung. The insults pierced right through your heart, but you remembered Jaehyun’s words, and only grew from there. “No, we wouldn’t have been. I would have taken the child and filed for a divorce nonetheless, I know that now.”
“You ungrateful brat!” the elderly woman suddenly yelled. “Do you know how many girls out there would trade places with you? You’ve gotten everything someone could ever ask for, and for you it’s not enough!”
“Because there is more to this world than money and reputation!” you screamed back. “It’s not my fault you have failed to see it while you still had a choice, too!”
You were never able to forgive her, that much was true. But somewhere under her hard facade, you were sure, was hiding a young woman who had once dreamed big too. A young woman your age, who had dreamed of the love of her life and her own business. A young woman, who had been robbed of these dreams way too early and had never been given a choice either.
But that young woman had failed to escape as long as she still was able to, and got replaced by a monster that couldn’t figure its way out anymore, too entangled in a vicious circle that got passed on from generation to generation.
You wanted to break the circle and make your own choices. Perhaps, if you hadn’t gone through the past two years, you wouldn’t have had enough courage to feel like this now. Perhaps, if you hadn’t gone through the past two years, you would have turned out like her.
The trauma had made you weak, but also much stronger at the same time. You still didn’t understand, but in some way, you were grateful.
And the fact that you were now able to walk away was the reason you would always and forever remain superior to your mother-in-law.
“You must really love that lawyer of yours,” she eventually broke through your thoughts. “I just wonder how far you are willing to go for him to fulfill your condition?”
____
“Did you get your important papers?” Jaehyun happily greeted you when he opened the door to his office. “You’re back so early, is everything okay?”
The moment you hurried in his direction, he immediately knew that something was wrong. He put his index finger under your chin and angled up your head. The way your entire world shattered when he forced you to hold your gaze indicated that nothing would ever be okay again.
“You have to leave, Jaehyun,” you insisted and grabbed onto his arms. “Right now.”
He didn’t ask any questions, but trusted you fully on that. “Okay, let me just get my-”
“No.” You shook your head. “The country. You have to leave the country immediately.”
Now, he was stunned. “I don’t understand.”
“My mother-in-law knows everything,” you uttered with a trembling voice. You told him about all the bribery and the detective, and eventually about her ultimatum. “She has collected a record of illegal activities reported against you, and she will go to the police with all of it to file a charge of your criminal activities. They have connections there, Jaehyun. She promised me if she wants, she will get you in jail. Is it true? Everything on the list?”
You recited a few bullet points you had been able to remember in a whim the short moment she was holding the paper in front of you. You directly saw it in his eyes, that fact that everything was as bad as it sounded. Robbery, data corruption, forgery, lying in front of the court… you named it.
“Oh god…” You needed a moment and sat down on the couch. “Jaehyun, she can really put you in jail!”
“Then I’ll leave the country!” he instantly caved. “We can live in New York or LA instead. I’ll book the next flight, we don’t need anything. We will just start anew.”
But by your expression alone, he understood that this was only wishful, silly thinking. Only one of you could be free, and you weren’t willing to trade his freedom for yours. He had always been free, you had always been caged. You didn’t rob the person you loved of their freedom like your husband had done.
“No… Don’t make that face. You’re not gonna stay married to him.”
“Jaehyun…”
He sank on his knees in front of you, taking your hands into his. “Then I will go to jail if it means you can get divorced to your advantage. How many years can I get anyway? I did many things wrong in the past and I don’t want to be this kind of person anymore. I will legally atone for my crimes. If it means that you’re going to be free and live a happy life, then I am willing to do so.”
“I won’t ever be able to live a happy life if it is without you. I don’t care about my money or my business anymore, Jaehyun. It will all come back, I still have time for this stuff. None of these matter now. What I care about is you. I won’t allow them to take you away from me. They took so much from me already. I can’t lose you too and rip you of your future and prospects like they did with me. It’s not worth it.”
“But I’m worth it?” he asked breathlessly. “How do you know? How do you know you won’t regret everything again?”
You wrapped your fingers around his neck and pulled him nearer to you. “Because you were willing to understand my pain and connect to my past. Because you left flowers on my baby’s grave and reunited me with my family. Because without you, I wouldn’t have had the courage to do all this. Nobody has ever gone through such lengths for me. If this is not true love, then I don’t want to live in a world this deluded.” You pressed your forehead against his. “And because I truly love you too, Jaehyun, I am willing to sacrifice this all.”
He reluctantly added, “There is another way out… There must be.”
There was a hint of a faint smile on your face. “There is not.”
“There is always!” he opposed, almost desperately.
Jaehyun sank onto the cushion next to you and buried his face in his palms. Was that what defeat felt like? He had expected it to hit him hard and knock him off his feet like a wave. Instead, defeat felt like drowning. Slow, torturous drowning.
“Perhaps, but not now, not for us. If only we had been given a bit more time… But I was selfish and pushed too far, and if you don’t leave the country now, you will go to jail. And if I leave with you, then all my beloved ones will pay the price, too. The damage would be more collateral. I cannot allow this to happen, so I will stay.”
“Promise me you won’t stop fighting.” He looked at you through heavy-lidded eyes. “That you will still fight for your freedom with every help you can get. Promise me you will never give up.”
You were trying so hard to keep your composure, but ultimately all your walls broke and you were crying hot tears in Jaehyun’s arms. He held you tightly for what might be the last time ever as you repeated,
“I will keep fighting.”
____
Jaehyun had made a decision.
For that decision, he was currently collecting every tiny piece of evidence possible from his entire career as a divorce attorney.
He had always been very structured, detailed and thorough with his records, which was why it didn’t take him long to find stuff that would be enough to lock him up for years. And he kept digging so as to not leave room for the police to find more than he would hand over. If he came clear with everything and turned himself in, punishment wouldn’t be so hard and he could see you again in a few years time.
You didn’t want this, he knew, but in a hopeless situation, this was the scenario that was the most hopeful.
Ironically, Jaehyun thought to himself, he had never been a person full of hope before meeting you.
“Can I come in?”
A monotonous male voice interrupted him, and he absent-mindedly answered, “I’m busy and we’re already out of the office hours. Come back tomorrow.”
“I just assumed you might want to read through these papers right now, checking whether I signed everything right.”
Jaehyun had never heard your husband’s voice in real life before, but now that he had and looked up from his desk, he found it really matched his face. It was dull and boring, even though he was a conventionally good-looking, well groomed man in his early thirties - that much he was able to judge objectively considering he hated him to the core.
“I don’t know whether you’re stupid or brave coming here,” Jaehyun said coldly. “I’ll just freely assume it’s both.”
Mr. Kang let a bag, that Jaehyun only noticed now, drop on the floor, not reacting to his taunt at all. By your stories alone, he already got the impression that your husband wasn’t a man of many words… or emotions and expression at all.
“Inside here are a few clothes, her documents, ID and passport. She wanted to get these this morning, right? And here are the signed divorce papers.” He dropped the staple on Jaehyun’s desk. “I’ve already consulted my lawyer. Whatever she’s asking for, she will get. I will agree on everything.”
Jaehyun drew the paper across the surface closer to him. He turned a few pages and realized that no alterations had been made so far. And Mr. Kang’s signature was right there as well.
“Where did you get this?”
“What my mother has gotten into her hands was a mere copy. The original documents had been handed over to me by the messenger the same day you had sent them out. I apologize that it took me so long. It was a decision easily made, but not easy to get through with my family. But my brother was very supportive and still is. My mother on the other hand, not so much when she will find out tomorrow. I’ll deal with it.”
Jaehyun closed the documents again and heaved up his head. “So… that’s all?”
“No.” Mr. Kang quietly shook his head, continuing with his initial monotonous tone, “I cannot prevent her from filing a police report against you, and knowing her, she will directly do so first thing in the morning when I confront her with the facts. That’s why you have to make haste and leave the country. Here.” He placed a very obvious plane ticket on the desk that was booked under Jaehyun’s name, dated for today still.
It was not the first time Jaehyun was hearing these words, yet he stood by his decision. “I won’t leave like a coward. I will cooperate and get the punishment I deserve.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Mr. Kang said, a little more emotion in his voice now. “Do you think when you get released, it will all be over? It’s only going to start from then on. You will not only lose your practice license, but everyone dear to you too. You will never have a day of peace, and therefore, she won’t either. You don’t want that life for her.”
Again, Jaehyun felt hopelessness choking him. He was willing to suffer the rest of his life for all of his wrongdoings if he must. He just didn’t want to drag you down with him. “What should I do?”
“Go far, far away from here. Don’t leave any trace and wait until the divorce is finalized until you let her come to you. I guess you have partners or assistants that can take over the legal parts for you in your firm. Anyway, I will make sure we will push through with the contract that you have set up.”
Jaehyun knew this was the silver lining in a near desperate situation. “Can I still tell her goodbye?”
“If you want to ever see her again, then you must leave right now. The plane departs at midnight.”
“How do I know I can trust your words?”
“Indeed, there is no way you can. But you don't have a choice.”
“Can I at least trust you to make sure she will be alright until she can come to me?”
“Yes,” Mr. Kang confirmed, and for the first time, Jaehyun could make out a clear expression etched into his face. Relief? “After all, I have given her a promise at our wedding. I will keep her safe until it’s all over. You’re not the only one, I want to atone for all my mistakes too. I just want you to know that I have truly loved her. I just wasn’t capable of showing up when I was needed. So I’m happy for her that someone is now.”
“I think this is something you have to tell her in person yourself. And many more things, probably.”
Mr. Kang nodded.
It was not Jaehyun’s place to judge other people’s relationships. What you had truly felt for each other at one point in your lives, it was up to you both to make out with yourselves - or not. Jaehyun just didn’t want you to hurt any longer. Everything else was irrelevant to him.
“Don’t expect a thank you, Mr. Kang.”
“I’m not. I’m not expecting anything from you, Mr. Jeong.”
Jaehyun hurriedly grabbed the most important documents from his desk and the shelves all while preparing to drop by at his home real quick to pick up his passport. “Can you tell her something from me? Or not… whatever you want to do.” He had seldomly felt so at a loss for the right words. “If you are willing to pass on my message though… She will arrive here soon and I need to be gone by then... Tell her to not come and say goodbye. I will contact her when it’s safe. I hope it won’t take long.”
“This, I will do,” he confirmed. “For her.”
____
Jaehyun had only packed a small bag with a few clothing pieces, some cash and important documents, nothing more. The papers he was taking with him included a specific file that gave him access to a secret bank account in another country into which he had booked different amounts of money any time he won a case. It wasn’t as much as his real asset, but it came close and was definitely enough to start anew somewhere else.
“Do you carry any liquids in your bag, sir?”
Jaehyun shook his head. He had already put his bag and jacket on the tray, patting his pockets one last time to look for remaining items he still had to get rid of before passing the security.
“Jaehyun!”
Brushing it off as an intrusive thought, he continued with his motions, until he heard again, this time from a clearly familiar voice,
“JEONG JAEHYUN! HOW DARE YOU!”
When he turned around, he caught you verbally fighting with the employees who checked the board pass before passengers moved on to the security. “Let me go, I have to talk to that person!”
“You need a ticket to pass through here, ma’am,” one of them carefully explained to you, flinching any time you made a move as he surely couldn’t estimate your outburst.
“Fine! Then I’ll buy one! Hurry up!”
“To buy a ticket, you have to go the counter and-”
“I don’t have time for that. Jaehyun!”
He didn’t have enough time to process everything of the scenario that was now unfolding in his sight. You really dared to push one employee aside who then stumbled into the other one’s arms. And before they could catch onto what was currently happening to them, you had already dropped your purse, gripped the railing with two hands and just jumped over the barricade like it was nothing.
In the background, Jaehyun perceived how the employees slowly caught onto the happenings after the initial shock and apparently called for backup with their walkie-talkies. Luckily, the TSA hadn’t caught wind of your unruly behavior yet as both sections were partially separated by walls, so Jaehyun left everything on the tray behind and ran towards you as you were doing the same.
Quickly, he grabbed your hand and dragged you to one corner of the hall, right between these two airport sections, where it would take either party the longest time to arrive.
“Why are you here?” Jaehyun asked, nearly out of breath when you came to a standstill. “You’re supposed to pick up your bag from my office and go to your parents’ house!”
“I know but I couldn’t!” You squeezed his hand. “You were really going to leave without giving me a chance to say goodbye? How dare you!”
“I’m sorry, I just…” Only when he was at the check-in, it had dawned on him that he had made the wrong decision. Even if your husband had warned him, he should have taken that risk. That much, you owed the person you loved. “I’m just not good at saying goodbye. I didn’t know what to say… even now, I don’t know.”
“Please don’t do this! Don’t strip me of my choice! Not you too!”
Jaehuyn shook his head and cupped your face. “I would never do that! I would have called or texted you right when I arrived. Even if it was risky. I just cannot bear… yeah, this. I didn’t want to see you cry again. This time it’s my fault.”
With his thumbs, he brushed over your cheeks, wiping away your tears. From the corners of his eyes, he already saw the fetched security arriving at the section, looking in your direction. There was not much time left anymore.
“This is my choice,” you said under tears. “You are my choice. And if you don’t come back, Jaehyun, I will fly over there myself, are we in the clear?”
He chuckled and you cracked a faint smile as well. “I believe you. I don’t think we need a contract for that. It may take a bit of time… so will you wait for me?”
“I will always wait for you. That’s what I said, right? I will wait for my true love, no matter how much time it takes. Just please, if you can, don’t take too long.”
Jaehyun wrapped his arms around you and pressed you against his chest. The security was already approaching you, but they weren’t running, possibly because they had already sensed there was no danger radiating from you. Just two people in love who needed to say one last goodbye to each other.
“I’ll hurry up,” he muttered into your hair and placed a kiss on your parting. “In the meantime, go back to university, get your degree and work hard for your business, but don’t forget to live your life, too. I want to return in time for your graduation ceremony.”
“Jaehyun…” You looked up to him with big, tear-filled eyes. “Then I will work hard so that it won’t take long.”
Eventually, the security reached them. “Ma’am, we have to kindly ask you to leave.”
Jaehyun let go of you before the two security men would drag you away from him themselves, and you unwillingly let him. “I promise I’ll be there!”
“I rely on your word!” you were still able to say before following the security out. “I love you!”
“I love you too.”
____
Police investigations started shortly after Jaehyun landed in the US. They were looking for him the next two years, and you had to stay apart for just as long.
He missed the moment you finalized your divorce after a year.
He missed the moment you re-entered university that same year.
He missed the moment you graduated with your degree a year later.
He missed every single important moment in your life.
____
‘GRAND OPENING’
was written on the fancy border that hung over the entrance door to your small shop.
You hadn’t expected for five people to already show up at the opening hour sharp, but you were well prepared and handed them a glass of champagne each. You walked them around, presenting to them a few of your hand-picked pieces.
There were gowns with reserved, classic cuts, more elaborate gowns with a lot of tulle, short skirts, long sleeved dresses, tight and wide dresses, and a broad selection of accessories like veils and gloves in addition.
“My heart lies within this shop,” you explained to the group of women. “I want to gather as many different styles as possible to suit everyone’s preferences. After all, it’s going to be the happiest day of your life, and you shouldn’t only look beautiful, but also feel comfortable. Whatever you want to add or alternate on your overall look, me and my team will accommodate that. Please feel free to look around and call for me if you need my assistance.”
You moved behind the counter and looked excitedly at your first possible customers, being happy to share this day with the people special to you too as later on, your family and friends would pay you a visit for the official opening party.
There was always one person missing though, and whenever you thought of it, your heart got so heavy.
The opening of your own bridal shop was another milestone in your life that Jaehyun was missing. Even though two months ago it was announced that the Aewha Group had gone bankrupt because of a tax fraud having been committed over the years, he had still deemed it unsafe to return and wanted to wait a bit more.
You wondered why and slowly grew impatient as the police had already stopped pushing the case forward because of the lack of evidence as almost no one wanted to testify against him. Since the Aewha Group was now down as well and the owners had a fair share of other, graver problems to deal with, you had proposed to him to come pay you a visit.
“It’s too dangerous,” Jaehyun had said.
“Then I’ll come!”
Again, he had said, “You don’t have to. Soon, I can return.”
But when was ‘soon’ anyway as he’d been saying it for a year already?
In secret, you had already bought a plane ticket to California for next month. Two years had already passed in which you couldn’t see each other, and if it continued, then you would be the one to go to jail for other reasons, you knew that, and those reasons included kidnapping the man you loved.
After an entire day of working where you had been successful to make fitting appointments with three bridal groups, it was time for the opening party. You saw your parents, grandparents, friends and other acquaintances, not only from the past, but also from the last two years, walk into your shop, gazing at the garments and celebrating with you.
There were beverages and snacks being served, everyone was dressed up and music was playing in the background. It was a gathering among the people close to you to celebrate the success you had been working so hard for the past two years.
You knew that, if you hadn’t met a certain person, you wouldn’t be standing here right now, giving a speech to your loved ones. But after all the trauma and pain, you were here, bright and successful with a future just as promising.
You just wished the person you were the most grateful for could have joined as well.
“Thank you so much for coming and celebrating with me. Please enjoy tonight,” you ended your speech.
“There is something I have to say too,” someone said in the background, and the hair on your neck suddenly stood up. “Actually, there is so much I have to say, but I will try to keep it short.”
Only after a few seconds, you were able to break through the petrification. From the corner of your peripheral, you saw your friends giggling and your parents looking at you lovingly. Before you met his gaze eventually, tears already started to burn on the rim of your eyes.
You felt his warm hand on your naked arm, his fingers slowly sliding down to intertwine with yours. It had been so long since you had last seen each other in person, but as you now stood in front of Jaehyun, it felt like no time had passed at all.
He was just as handsome and well built as two years ago. If anything, he looked even better. Maturity suited him so well. He was smiling at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mirror his expression with the same intensity, because different emotions washed over you all at once, so that you didn’t know how to feel at first.
You wanted to get angry at him and yell at him why it had taken him so long.
You wanted to wrap your arms around his neck and have him hold you tightly.
You wanted to kiss him deeply and get undressed to feel every inch of him.
In the end, you didn’t do anything but start crying. It was all just too much.
“Why are you here?” you asked, still believing it was all not real.
You felt him squeezing your fingers. “I just couldn’t miss another milestone of yours.”
“Why did it take you so long?”
“There were a few things I needed to sort out before I could return. Finding someone to take over my law office, for example. Just the formals.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, you idiot? I bought a ticket for next month!”
He threw his head back and laughed. “That’s what I sensed and came here as fast as possible.”
“How long are you going to stay?” you sniffed.
“This time, I hope forever.” You saw him move in your blurry vision and blinked through your tears. Or better say, you saw it blinking in front of your eyes as he was holding a ring in front of you. “If you let me be your husband, of course. So… will you? Will you accept me as your husband?”
You pouted. “Where are we going to live?”
“Here, of course.”
“And you’re not on the run anymore?”
“I will only do stuff according to ethics, morals and the law.”
“Can I plan the wedding myself?”
At this point, you were only teasing him, but after what he had put you through, he let you. “You can do whatever you want, I will say yes to everything my wife says.”
“Very well.” You paused. “Under one condition.”
“Hm?”
Then, you broke into a wide smile. Those tears on your face had always only been happy tears. “We will never set up a prenup.”
“Of course,” Jaehyun agreed. “Because we will never get divorced anyway.”
Then, you finally fell into his arms and kissed him deeply. It was like two missing pieces coming together, a surge of complete bliss streaming through your bodies the moment your lips met. This, this was it. This was what it must feel like to finally be with your true love. You never wanted to be apart again.
The ring looked beautiful on your finger, and as you both turned around to show it to your guests, you saw in their reactions that they had been let in on the planned happenings of this night quite a while ago.
Your opening party had magically turned into your engagement party.
#jaehyun#jeong jaehyun#nct#nct 127#jaehyun smut#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun scenarios#jaehyun x reader#jaehyun x you#nct smut#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct x reader#nct x you#nct 127 smut#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 x you#nct 127 x reader#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios
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smut nsfw mdni
boyfriend!toji who is immediately concerned when you call him crying. he’s asking all sorts of questions to you, bombarding you while not letting you speak a single word. “what happened”, “is something wrong”, “do i need to kill someone”, “do you just miss me” or “do i need to come back right now”, but he can’t help it! he gets upset on your behalf, even when you tell him it’s your period making you so unhappy right now, all he wants to do is fight the little aches in your tummy.
boyfriend!toji who does not know the reason you’re crying right now isn’t because of the cramps or the lack of chocolate in the fridge. it’s the pool of warmth in your belly that you’re feeling, because you’re so wet and needy right now, but you can’t do anything about it because you’re on your period! he immediately sighs in relief, but gets serious again just as quick. “we’ll need to do something about it,” you whine, but what could you, or he, do?
boyfriend!toji who knows that for a few days from now, you can only whine and cry to him either in person or on the phone about how much you want to take his dick inside of you, or how much you want him to eat you out, or how you want his fingers to pulse inside you. in, out, in, out, he can’t help but zone out as you cry to him, begging to take his cock for the fifth time since your period started, and he knows he can’t do anything just yet. it angers him because he’s not able to help you in any way.
so boyfriend!toji tries to control himself. he tries to forget how good it feels when you clench around his big cock. he tries to forget how much he wants your soaking cunt on his face too. he tries to ignore the calls from you at work, knowing that hearing you babble on and on about what you want him to do to you will only make him grow needier, and he’ll just have to solve the problem by himself.
boyfriend!toji who soon after gets cornered in a room by you, and you’re so emotional; you think he’s upset at you because he’s been ignoring your calls so often. but he can’t help it. he does not want to burden you with his pleasure, especially when he can’t help you chase yours. but then you hug him so tightly and cling to his body like a koala, and he has to reassure you in this vulnerable state. so he kisses the top of your head and takes a day or two off work to take care of you. he tries to ignore the dull ache in his own cock for as long as he can when he is around you, and fixes the problem when he showers.
boyfriend!toji who snaps when you walk in on him jerking off to older pictures and videos and audios of you. he’s still listening to all those voice recordings you had sent of you talking about how much you want to please him and his big cock. so he slowly guides you inside and makes you suck on his pretty cock. he pulls your hair back and tugs you by your shirt harshly to wrap your lips around him properly or bob your head properly. making you do all the work, promising to return the favour as soon as you “get well”.
boyfriend!toji who keeps his promise, and does fuck you like he hasn’t for years, and eats you out like he’s been starved for decades after your period passes by. he lays you down on his bed and lets you take all of him at once, grinning evilly when you cry out. “you wanted this, didn’t you, baby? or do i need to remind you? see, i still have those lovely recordings you sent me…” see, you can’t blame him! he’s been trying to control himself all this time too, so he needs it just as bad.
“quit complaining now, or would ya like me to make that period disappear for a year? mm, i think i’d like that, these few days have been fucking horrible without your sweet, sweet cunt, darl’”
© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#toji x reader#toji smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fic#toji#toji fushiguro#jjk imagines#toji imagine
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That boy is mine.
୨୧ Summery: hsr men and their love languages.
୨୧ Including: Aventurine, Jing Yuan, Sunday, Veritas Ratio, Argenti.
୨୧ Warnings: none. Gn! Reader, All fluff, just the hsr men spoiling you like how you should be spoilt.
♡︎ Aventurine— receiving gifts.
“Err, Aventurine? This is the fifth diamond bracelet this month.”
“Today is a special day.”
“You say that everyday…” you whisper to yourself in amusement while your fingers brush over the expensive material sealed around your wrist. You try not to sound disappointed because—you’re not really disappointed but rather confused or guilty for him spending so recklessly with you.
Upon seeing the guilt he knew so well etched on your face, he quickly steps closer, “It looks pretty on you, which is all the reason i need.” He teases, his hand snaking towards your lower back. “You didn’t complain about the shoes and necklace I bought you,” he shrugs with a grin plastered on his face and you shake your head in return.
“I appreciate everything you do to me, i just dislike it when a lot of money is wasted.” You gently scold him but he brushes it off with a laugh.
“Darling, you need to stop thinking like this. Money was meant to be spent.” He playfully flickers your forehead, before gently caressing the spot with his thumb.
“How can i ever spoil you back, hmm?” He grins at your question, his thumb that was caressing your forehead moves to your chin. Holding it with a firm, yet gentle grip. “I told you, silly,” he murmurs, leaning forward to bring his face closer to yours. “All you have to do is be cute, and give me a kiss every once in a while.”
“… is that it?” Your figure almost slumps at his too simple requests. From now on, you’d try harder to shower him with all the kisses and affection.
“That’s all it takes. Your cute little reactions and your pretty face are more than enough to spoil such a simple man, like me.” He says, his hand slipping down to your waist, pulling you closer. You take ahold of his face with your hands, pulling his face to give his lips some attention, his hand tightening around your waist “will this suffice?”
“I’m a bit greedy, one more.” He whispers, and you press your lips against his again for another chaste kiss. “Again,” he says in a bit more demanding tone this time, taking over the lead and kissing you even deeper, trailing his lips along your jawline then a final kiss just below your earlobe. Your whole face burning just from simple kisses.
“I will get you anything you want, everything you desire,” he whispers against your neck, “A yacht, a penthouse, jewels, whatever you want. My only condition is you stay with me, and make those cute little noises when i spoil you.”
“Cute little noises?” You squint your eyes at him, pulling back to see him, “you mean.. my surprised expressions?”
“Exactly like that. The soft gasps, wide eyes, and adorable smile.” You grins while taking you in a crushing embrace and you only laugh back at him.
♡︎ Jing Yuan— physical touch.
You suddenly can’t breath when the general came home particularly clingy today. Big arms preventing you from escaping his hold with his lips not leaving any spot untouched on your face.
“Missed you today,” he would whisper in his thick raspy voice, hands roaming around your body with strands of his hair almost covering your face, “my pretty spouse.” His voice is muffled from his face buried in your neck.
“You’re the clingiest man i know.”
His suddenly stopped for a moment, expression darkening slightly, “you know other men?”
“Ohh, the most jealous one too.” You chuckle when he shoots you a pout, sometimes you could imagine him looking like a big sad lion.
“Not that I’m complaining.” You press a tender kiss to his forehead, and just like that, his shoulders relax and his golden eyes seem to shine just a bit brighter. “Was work harsh on you today?”
Jing Yuan let out a drawn-out sigh, "Exhausting is more like it," he replied with a tired smile. "Still need to train Yanqing later tonight per his request,"
His expression softened as he looked down to meet your gaze.
"I've been looking forward to this time with you all week." He hums, resting his head on your chest and your hand immediately finds its place on his hair. Jing Yuan smiles as he feels your delicate fingers take out the red ribbon from his long, white hair, letting it cascade down to his shoulders.
"I should call in sick tomorrow," he grins when he hears you quietly chuckle, beginning to lean on you as your fingers worked through his hair.
“Is this the general of the luofu?” You decide to tease him a bit, his rough hands squeezing your thighs in return. “No, this is just your spouse now. All putty for you."
♡︎ Veritas Ratio— Quality time.
Ratio was sprawled on his stomach, a large book held in his hands. He was so engrossed in the content that he didn't even hear you enter the room until you jumped onto the bed.
“What are you doing?” You simply ask as you make space for yourself next to him, He turned his head to glance at you for a second before returning his attention to the page.
"Reading a book on advanced mathematics," he replied, his voice sounding a bit distracted. "What does it look like I'm doing?"
“Oh the boring stuff.”
"Boring? Excuse you. This stuff happens to be quite fascinating. Not everyone can appreciate the complexity and beauty of mathematical theory, you know."
Your brain goes short circuit at his explanation, and you shake your head instead. "You can read your amazing stuff to yourself while i... Maybe brush your hair?"
Ratio couldn't help but scoff at your suggestion. "Brush my hair, really? What, do you think I'm a doll or something?"
But secretly, the idea of you running your fingers through his hair had a certain appeal to him. He shrugged nonchalantly, feigning indifference.
"Fine, go ahead. Do with my hair whatever makes you happy, I suppose."
"Yay," you immediately grab the brush from your drawer and gesture him to lean back against your chest, and he immediately obliged. Melting back against your chest while holding his book to his lap. “I love you,” you then whisper and he only hums in return.
You huff at his silence, "I thought you were going to say something like 'oh i love you to the moon and back!' or 'i actually don't love you'." You say in a mocking tone.
Ratio chuckled again, shaking his head in mock annoyance. "Oh, so you're expecting some sappy, romantic cliché, are you? Sorry to disappoint you, darling."
He reached up and gently poked your forehead with his index finger. "I don't think I could actually say something like that with a straight face. I have standards, you know."
Then you tug his hair gently with the brush, showing your annoyance, making him gasp. "Hey, careful with the hair," he protested half-heartedly, feigning irritation. "Do you want me to go bald before I'm thirty?"
"At least you look pretty now." You hand him a mirror to show him the creation you've made on his hair. Tiny braids.
“Aeons, what have you done to my hair?”
"I made an artwork, thank you very much."
He took another look at his reflection in the mirror, tilting his head to examine the braids in his hair from different angles.
“Artwork, you say?” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Looks more like a bird’s nest, if you ask me.”
You blink twice at his words, "Wait, what if birds actually lay their eggs on your hair?" His smirk vanished, replaced by a look of mock horror. "Oh gods, please don't give them ideas," he said, you both quickly start unbraiding his hair.
♡ Sunday— Acts of service.
“Is this better, love?” Sunday asks softly when he took off his coat to drape it around your shoulders instead, and you nod your head. He wouldn’t want his beloved to catch a cold now.
Both of you decided to go on a walk in penacony as a date, just to enjoy each other’s presence for the night.
He wraps a protective hand around your waist, moving to walk on the side of the street while you were safely walking on the sidewalk.
“I wouldn’t ask for anything more.” You smile brightly under the light poles. "I’m relieved to hear that, darling." Sunday replied with a pleasant hum, giving your hips a gentle squeeze as you leaned into him for warmth. He smiled at your laugh, finding your happiness to be such a joyous sight. you had always been such an angelic being in his eyes; just the sight of your smiling and laughing was enough for his heart to flutter madly in his chest.
"careful, dont trip. watch your step."
You step to the side just in time to avoid tripping over a few rocks, giving him the sweetest smile, "Always caring for me, my love."
Sunday felt his cheeks flush ever so faintly at your smile. The soft feathers of his wings grazing his cheeks in a failed attempt to hide the redness. Your sweet personality and mannerisms tugging at the strings of his heart in an almost dizzying manner.
"i cant possibly let my angel hurt themself on our date, now can i?"
It was your turn for your cheeks to flush at his words. Your tried turning around to avoid him seeing your face when your hand landed upon a bush of flowers.
You carefully pluck the crimson one before handing it to him, "for you,”
He took the flower from your hand and twirled it between his fingers, admiring the pretty, crimson hue. he tucked it behind his ear, the red complimenting his hair nicely.
he chuckled in amusement. “it's beautiful. how did you know red is my favourite colour?"
"Is it? Last time i gave you a blue shirt and you said it was your favourite colour." You laugh, plucking another flower to tuck it right at the fluttering wings next to his ears.
“Hmm, everything you give me is my favorite. That’s only fair.” For some reason the way Sunday talks, makes you believe for sure that you’re definitely safe with him.
♡ Argenti— words of affirmation.
“I cannot get enough of you.” he murmured against your hair. It’s quieter than usual now with his presence, which is something you don’t hate either.
"You flatter me with your words, darling." You whisper, feeling protected around his arms, with your head resting on his chest where you could listen to his heart beat rather quicker than usual.
"And you flatter me with your presence, my love," Argenti replied, his voice a deep and velvety rumble. His hand rose to gently brush a stray strand of hair away from your face, his touch lingering on your cheek for a moment too long.
The steady rhythm of his heart seemed to pick up its pace as it thumped against his chest, a subtle giveaway of his growing excitement. "You make my heart beat faster than it should," he confessed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
“Your words always manages to make me fall head over heels for you.” You say dreamily, taking a few on his red end strands of hair to twirl with. He laughed softly, shifting his position so he could look down at you. He gently tilted your chin up, his thumb gently grazing your jawline.
"Where do I even begin? Your beauty is without equal, a sight so captivating it robs me of my breath every time I lay my eyes upon you," he whispered, his voice soft yet filled with affection. "Your intelligence is like a rare gem, sharper than the finest sword and just as precious. Every moment spent with you is a treasure, my love."
You shift in your place a bit to take a good look at his face, and you only see gentleness and sincerity behind it.
“I lied, my skin might burn from all this sweetness.” You admit, pressing your chin against his shoulder.
Argenti laughed again, and you might think it’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. He gently wrapped his arms around yours, "Seeing the effect I have on you is a sight more beautiful than any sunrise," he purred, voice dripping like honey, his hand now moving to glide down your neck, fingers tracing patterns on your nape.
"I will never tire of making your skin burn, my love. Each blush and shiver you give me only adds fuel to my desire for you." His thumb traced circles on your nape, and you could just sleep right here.
“I never thought I would be this… desire-able?” You mumble, the hint of insecurity showing, making him sigh.
"Nonsense,” he tightens his arms around you, “The way you move, the sound of your voice, the way you look at me... it drives me to the brink of madness. I find myself craving you at all hours of the day, constantly longing for your touch, your presence alone is enough to make me weak in my knees."
You frown at his words, relaxing right here, in the arms of your lover, “you’re too precious.”
“Likewise, darling.”
#hsr x reader#honkai star rail fluff#jing yuan#jing yuan x reader#aventurine#aventurine x reader#sunday#sunday x reader#Veritas Ratio#veritas ratio x reader#ratio x reader#argenti#argenti x reader#honkai star rail x reader#fanfic#hsr men#hsr x you#honkai star rail
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nerd!nanami halloween edition
batman & catwoman
nerd!nanami who helps you into your costume. it was supposed to be a surprise but there was so much tight latex you had no choice but to ask him for help. gojo had invited you to his annual halloween party in his penthouse and nanami reluctantly accepted the invitation.
“honey.. are you sure this thing is made for.. humans? it looks like a medieval torture method,” nanami grunts as he pulls the latex up your legs, “are you in any pain—shit! are you in any pain, dear?”
“no, no, kenny! just get it on my arms and we’re all done!”
“i might have to oil you up, dear..” he chuckles wholeheartedly before he pauses, realizing his innuendo.
“… okay ken,” you giggle, slapping his arm.
nerd!nanami who finally gets the whole costume on you after another hour while his batman costume only took a max of five minutes to pull on.
“i think i look silly, dear,” he runs his hands over his hair before putting on the black mask, his face dwarfing the spirit halloween accessory. he was just ginormous in all ways.
“you don’t look silly! i think you look very handsome,” you smile, rubbing a hand over his biceps under the black shirt. he refused to wear anything too silly, opting for a black batman shirt and black sweats along with the mask.
you two stood before your bathroom mirror as you giggle excitedly at the sight. you whipped out your phone, taking what seemed like a thousand photos of him before you two left for gojo’s halloween party.
nerd!nanami who tries his hardest to hide his boner at the party. he was a reasonable man, of course he let you go have fun and party with your friends. but that didn’t stop him from keeping a possessive eye on you.
he couldn’t believe it. his girlfriend. his catwoman. he used to pray for a day like this to come. he had to pinch himself to realize it wasn’t a dream and that you were indeed real, a goddess in his eyes.
nerd!nanami who doesn’t last for another thirty minutes seeing you in that costume, pulling you to a guest bedroom in gojo’s penthouse where you two usually stayed if you crashed there.
you gasped as he pressed you down against the bed.
“hold on, kenny i’ll just—“
you try to take off the panted pants yourself until your hear a loud stretch and a rubbery rip. you shriek, eyes widen as you look back and he’s got the spandex in two pieces, baring your thighs and pussy to him.
“please, honey.. i need you now,” nanami groaned, pushing his hand along your back to guide you back onto your stomach.
gojo’s sheets were always cotton, thank god. they’d be easy to wash after this.
nerd!nanami who has your head pushed into the pillows as he plows your pussy from the back, spanking your ass to watch them move like water.
“fffuck, baby.. you feel so good”
nanami groaned as he leaned forward, angling deeper inside you as his cock reached what seemed like you stomach.
“kennnn.. so big!”
“shh, shh i know, i know, baby, just take it,” he grunted as he felt you clench at his words, reaching down to rub your clit as he watched you drool onto the pillow.
“i-im gonna—ah! i’m gonna!”
“you’re gonna what, honey? use your words”
“i’m gonna cum, kennnn”
he was never the one to tease you or enjoy watching you like this, but something inside him snapped when he watched you stumble over your words, whining to try to find your sense of mind when you went dumb on his cock.
“cum for me, baby, c’mon, i know you”
“fffuck! ken!”
your pussy held his cock like a vice and shit, thank god he wasn’t batman cause he would never be saving the world since he has you waiting at home.
he shot thick, creamy ropes of cum deep into your pussy, warmth filling you up as you sighed contently. he pulled out, admiring you for a minute, watching as his cum spilled out. he was about to get up to clean you until he saw you subtly wiggle your hips, the sight of your plump ass, your ruined pussy, your legs only half covered in spandex, fuck it only made him hard again.
he leaned in, spreading you open, watching your gaping, twitching holes before licking a stripe over them as you shivered
“honey, how about i clean you up, hm?”
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#kento nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#kento nanami#jjk nanami#nanami smut#nanami x reader#nanami kento smut#nanami kento#kento nanami smut#rina thinking 📝
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Remember when I was talking about Bakugou’s biceps, but it wasn’t sexual ? link 💘
Let me give you another list of reasons to loveeee Bakugou’s biceps.
18+ ⭐️
—
Your mouth was practically watering at the sight of your boyfriend chugging his gallon sized water bottle. He had just gotten back from the gym and was fresh in his gym clothes. A classic athletic black t-shirt and compression capris under basketball shorts… but what really got your attention was the way his biceps were practically bulging out of his shirt.
You were reading your book until you peaked over and now you’re stuck in a trance. Your thoughts were so lewd if anyone were able to hear them they’d be beet red.
He places his water down before sighing.
“Done staring ?”
And you immediately looked back down at your book.
He scoffed at your sad attempt to cover your face.
“Embarrassed you got caught or do you need glasses ?”
He was teasing you considering how close you shoved the book to your face.
“So what if I was ? I can’t stare at my boyfriend ??” You tried to defend yourself but God seeing him like this was sending you into another world.
He started walking over to you and was admiring a view of his own. You had your back flat against the couch and your head rested against the arm of it. You had your knees pressed together and your feet flat against the seating of the couch, not realizing the perfect view he had of your pink underwear or how he could clearly see the print of your pussy.
“Perv”
“Huh ? Like you weren’t just salivating over me drinking water”
You looked away and rolled your eyes before looking back at him. Not realizing how close he had gotten and was now pressing his knee a little to close to where your pussy was.
“Kats-“
“Tell me what you were really staring at”
Your face felt hot, like someone had poured lava as a face mask. You hesitated before answering him with an innocent look hoping he wouldn’t tease you about it.
“Your biceps…”
And he couldn’t help the grin that reached his face.
His hand gently cupping your knee before spreading your legs apart.
“Katssss” you mumble at him, knowing he’s gonna leave you overstimulated (not that you’re complaining)
“You know I don’t just workout to stay fit right ?”
He picked you up and carried you to your shared bedroom. Oh you were in for it now.
He gently laid you on the bed before pulling back to lift off his shirt and My.. God. The view was something crafted by Heaven and Earth.
You involuntarily reached your hand out to stroke his abs and he hissed in response.
“I’m sorry-“ you pulled your hand back thinking you hurt him.
“S’not you.. just a little sore” he got on his knees and pulled you closer to his face by your hips.
And you frowned, wanting him to rest..
“Then we don’t have to-“ “I’m sore not dead”
And before you could retaliate you moaned feeling the sensation of his lips against your clothed clit.
Oh fuck… now you really had a view
He was holding your thighs apart with his arms, his biceps pressing against your soft skin and you were nearly losing it. Just the sight of this alone was enough to make you finish.
He gently pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side and began lapping at your clit. You threw your head back against the pillows and let your fingers run through his hair.
“Yes ngh fuck katsuki yes yes yes”
You tugged at his hair earning a low groan from him. If only you could see the raging boner he had in his shorts rn.
Just from your breathing he knew you were close and started tracing circles against your clit, making sure to hold your thighs extra tight.
“F-fuck Kats’ m’ gonna cum m’ gonna cum”
He didn’t slow down, continuing his brutal pace on your pussy as you reached your high, but he kept going through your orgasm causing you to whine and involuntarily roll your hips against his face.
Once he was done he pulled back from you again and stood up, running his thumb against his bottom lip, a satisfied look on his face.
“Working out also offers good stamina”
—
“Should we find out if I’ve really been putting in the work ?”
(yeah bby that’s all yours)
#bnha x reader#bnha x y/n#bnha x fem!reader#bnha x you#mha x y/n#bnha bakugo katsuki#bnha bakugou#bakugo katuski#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha bakugo x reader#bnha bakugo x reader#bakugo x black reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x female reader#bakugo x reader#bnha x chubby reader#mha x female reader#mha x poc!reader#mha x plus sized reader#katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bnha katsuki#katsukibakugou#katsuki bakugou#katsuki x you#bakugou katsuki#bakugo smut#katsuki bakugo mha
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MATT'S STREAM
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and chris’ relationship isn’t out to the public just yet. when he’s on stream with matt, you tease him.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, teasing, dry humping, cock warming, degradation if you squint, p in v, semi-public (?)
ASSUME YOU'RE ON THE PILL!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,521
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hiii i’m excited for this. let’s see how this goes :)
chris sits at his desk, spam clicking and smashing buttons on his keyboard. he talks to his brothers in his headset.
matt’s streaming on twitch right now, meaning that thousands of fans are watching the three of them play fortnite. you’ve been with chris for a few months, yet the fans have no idea. you both collectively agreed to keep your relationship out of the public eye.
hence why you are seated next to him out of frame, watching the stream go down. your eyes scan to his side profile. his brows furrow in concentration, his tongue sticking out as he focuses on the computer screen. you hear the boys scream in his headset, and he slams his hands onto his lap.
“damn.” he grunts out, glancing over at you for a moment and smiling.
“i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” he says into the mic before muting it and taking off his headset. he turns his face cam off and goes into the bathroom to do his business.
he comes out beats later, sitting back in the gaming chair, wiggling to get comfortable. you get up, which gains his attention. “you doing okay?” he asks.
“yeah. just need to stretch.”
before he could unmute his mic and turn the cam back on, you push the chair back slightly to have enough space to straddle his lap. he wraps his arms around your waist and welcomes you closer, kissing your collarbone. “they’re going to think i’m shitting.” he says jokingly.
your arms snake around his neck and you lean back to look at him. “say your camera broke.”
he smirks and puts back on his headset. “i’m back.” he starts. “for some reason, my camera is acting weird.”
“it’s all good. as long as we can still hear you.” matt’s voice replies.
the thin fabric you call panties rubs against his bulge through his red plaid pajama pants. you have a shirt on, one of chris’s FRESH LOVE t-shirts that covers you enough to look like a nightgown. a sensation tingles between your legs, and you start to move your hips slowly.
you hear chris groan, pressing a button on his keyboard. “what are you doing?” he asks sternly.
“i need to get comfortable.” you tease, rocking your hips harder. he opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and clicks unmute again.
you rest your head in the crook of his neck and continue to rock your hips, feeling him grow beneath you. he still talks to his brothers normally, but his performance on the game doesn’t look good.
“what the fuck is up with you, chris?” nick questions into the headphones.
“sorry,” he mumbles.
your hands find their way to the back of his neck and tug at his hair lightly. you breathe heavily to not make any noise since his mic is right next to your head. you don’t even notice your hips rutting and body tensing when you feel your release soak your underwear.
you exhale shakily, lifting your body and looking at the mess you made. there’s a wet stain on his pants on top of his hard-on. you don’t even have to look to know your underwear is ruined.
chris looks at you confused, before following your gaze. you go to get up but he grabs your hips and places you back to where you’re hovering over him. he unties his pants and pulls them down along with his boxers. he moves the mic away from his mouth, leaning toward your ear.
“don’t move or make a fucking sound,” he warns in a low tone you could barely hear.
he pushes your panties to the side and guides you down onto his cock, fighting off the hissing noise trying to escape your lips as he stretches you out tenderly and slowly. you and chris started having sex not long ago, but even after a few days without it, you had to readjust again.
this, however, is a first.
you guys never tried cock warming before. you felt so nervous. so excited. so full.
after multiple rounds of fortnite that felt like it lasted hours, your brain felt fuzzy despite not even doing anything. every time he talked, laughed, or celebrated a victory or loss, he’d thrust deep inside of you. and it drove you nuts.
you hear commotion on the other end of the headset. “fuck!” chris screams, jolting his hips further into you than at any other time. your eyes roll ever so slightly, mouth agape as your bottom lip grazes over his bare shoulder. it’s too late to take back the moan that came out of you.
chris’ hands make their way to your ass and squeeze hard, setting a reminder.
be quiet. right.
your patience becomes thinner and thinner, since it’s already been about thirty minutes. too desperate, you start to grind against him.
before he can do or say anything, you grab his mic and fist your hand over it so nobody can hear.
“please let me ride you. i promise i’ll be quiet.” you beg.
“so needy.” he sighs, taking your hand off of the mic and returning to the game.
rutting your hips forward, you start bouncing, your clit swollen from sitting still for so long without doing anything about it. you don’t know, but you could’ve sworn you heard chris groan.
too busy focusing to try to not make a sound by biting your lip, you hear sentences being scattered around from the boys.
“i don’t know, man.”
“this game sucks!”
“is your camera working yet?”
“no, sorry!”
little do they know, here you are, fucking yourself on your boyfriend’s dick like a bitch in heat.
you nuzzle your head in his neck and kiss a spot before biting down to stifle your pathetic sounds. chris hisses at the sudden contact and misses a kill, the other person killing him instead, costing them to lose.
“for fuck sake. chris, are you sure you’re okay?” matt asks in annoyance.
the tip of his cock brushes against your g-spot unexpectedly, forcing a whine out of you. “actually.” chris starts. “i don’t feel good, to be honest. i might log off for tonight.”
he quickly ends the discord call and shuts down his computer, stopping your movements. you look at him with glassy eyes, a frown portraying your face. he runs a finger up your spine before gripping onto your hair and yanking it, making you whimper. “first, you ruin my pants.”
he thrusts himself up into you, taking you by surprise with a gasp.
“then, you tease me.”
another thrust.
“now, you can’t follow simple fucking instructions.”
again.
a broken moan comes out of you, chris slapping your ass. “need me to fuck you so bad you can’t even wait two hours. instead, you get off by fucking yourself on my dick like your life depends on it. so pathetic.”
you whine of embarrassment, yet you don’t want this to stop.
“please.” you breathe out. “i’m sorry. please fuck me.”
with that, chris grabs your thigh with his free hand and starts plunging into you from below. his grip is still tight on your hair. you let out breathy moans left and right since each thrust takes the air out of your lungs. your eyes start prickling with tears from all of the built-up pleasure. “oh my— fucking— jesus— god.”
chris chuckles at your failed attempt to form a sentence. your moans transition into high-pitched squeals when he hits the angle that makes a knot form in your stomach. he releases his grip from your hair and moves it to your jaw, his hand that was on your thigh coming up to your mouth. he shoves in his middle and ring finger for you to suck on.
god, this felt good, and boy was it hot.
drool starts dribbling down your chin as you moan around his fingers and your eyes roll back. chris twitches inside you causing him to groan and take out his fingers, but your mouth still hangs open as unholy sounds come out of it. he releases your jaw and cups your ass with both hands.
“holy shit.” you whine. “i’m gonna cum.”
“let go, y/n. fuck you’re doing so good for me.”
because you certainly don’t have to be told twice, your whole body trembles and you fall forward. your hands cup the sides of his neck.
“i love you.” you moan into his neck as he continues thrusting to get to his release. “i love you so fucking much— jesus god.” you cry out when you feel chris filling you up.
he thrusts a few more times into your trembling body to get down from his high.
“look at me.” he says softly, bringing your head up to make eye contact. he smiles and kisses your lips. “i love you too, ma.”
when you come back to your senses you lift yourself off of him and stumble to his bed to sit down. chris pulls up his boxers and checks his phone that’s been blowing up on the desk in front of him.
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo fluff
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Milk and Sugar
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Not edited, cursing maybe, the ex gf isn’t anyone specific don’t @ me
Summary: Max is tired of his persistent ex girlfriend and friends that are maybe a little too empathetic about his breakup. What better way to scare them off than getting a new girlfriend? But he doesn’t actually want a new relationship. Enter: you. The perfect (fake) new girlfriend.
Word Count: 9.6k
Authors Note: this fic was kicking my ass im gonna be so fr. It took forever and I just couldn’t write the ending for some reason. Hopefully now that this is up, I can do something else lmfao
You were just doing a favor for a friend.
Or that’s what you had told yourself when Max had originally asked you to go along with his stupid idea. You hadn’t even really wanted to agree, by the way. He had just needed your help so badly and that’s what friends are for, right?
So that’s how you’d ended up in his garage, Red Bull hat pulled tightly over your head as you watched his car sail around the track in Brazil, the season well under way.
You’d met Max a few years back. You’d moved into the apartment next to his, not even blinking as your eyes scanned over the future world champion, too focused on your dog trying his best to distract you from the heavy box in your hands.
“Apollo! Stop!” You sighed at the dog as he jumped at your legs, trying his hardest to knock the box full of dog food and treats out of your arms. The dog, not knowing English, didn’t listen, of course, continuing his assault on your calves.
The box tilts in your grasp, coming dangerously close to falling out of your arms. But suddenly, the weight is lifted away and Apollo seems to turn his attention to whatever had relieved you from your struggle, giving you the opportunity to pull the small dog into your grasp, trying your best to calm his rowdiness down.
Once you’ve gotten the dog to calm down a significant amount, you look up to see who’d saved you from hours of cleaning loose dog food off the floor during your first day in your new apartment. You’re met with bright blue eyes staring back at you, a concerned look on the strangers face.
You’re too worried about the pretty man in front of you to even worry about Apollo as he starts to nibble lightly on your jacket.
“Are you okay?” And then he speaks for the first time and you’re captivated. Not in a love-at-first-sight way, of course. More of a this-guy-might-be-perfect kind of way.
You nod, gently separating your dogs mouth off your hoodie string, petting his, most-likely, empty head warmly, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. This little guy just really wanted that food, I guess.”
The stranger laughs, moving the box in his arms to rest against his hip, “I’m more of a cat person, anyway.”
You fake a wince, shaking your head with a frown, “Ahh, guess we can’t be friends then, mysterious stranger. Im a dog person all the way.”
He laughs again, grinning warmly, “Any way I could help you with this? Can’t imagine it’s easy moving in with a dog running around.”
Your eyes widen at his words, your hand fumbling to fish the key to your new apartment out of your pocket, “Only if you’re free! I wouldn’t want to bother my new neighbor on my first day.”
Your neighbor shakes his head, light brown hair falling down on his forehead, “It’s no big deal, I’m surprisingly free today.”
You smile, pushing the door to your apartment open, setting Apollo down as you enter. The dog immediately starts to scope out the area, bounding up and down the halls, his collar jangling loudly as he does. You hear the man enter behind you, watching as he walks over and places the box of dog food on the counter in the kitchen.
“Usually I learn a man’s name before I invite him into my apartment,” you smirk, laughing as a blush coats your neighbors face. He takes the few steps back over to close the gap between you, sticking out a calloused hand toward you.
“I’m Max.”
You smile, repeating his name before reciting your own, clasping your hand in his much rougher one, tilting your head up at him as you shake, letting go after a few moments.
“It’s nice to meet you max,” you say, smiling as you see Max’s face light up happily, “How inclined would you be to helping me get the rest of my boxes?”
Max laughs as he sees the sweet grin on your face, shaking his head as he moves toward the door, “I’d love to help, y/n. Can’t have my new favorite neighbor moving in alone, can I?”
Your face splits into a grin as you follow him toward the exit, turning to make sure Apollo was comfortably inside the apartment so he wouldn’t try and run away before closing the door behind you.
Max did help you that day, the moving in process going substantially quicker with the help of the athlete. He even invited you over to his place for dinner, explaining that it’d be too much of a hassle for you to make dinner after moving in all day. You didn’t bring up the fact he’d been moving all day as well, simply following him next door instead.
That had been three years ago and you’d been friends ever since. It was a casual friendship, more moved by the proximity than anything else.
He’d had to explain f1 to you, you being completely unfamiliar with the sport despite having moved to Monaco, probably the place with the most connection to it. Now, you’d casually watch his races as you worked or ate dinner, not entirely sure what was going on but supporting your friend anyway.
He’d also eventually asked you to watch his cats for him, Jimmy and Sassy being surprisingly friendly with your puppy. Max had been scared about introducing them, prefacing with many statements about how much the cats hated dogs and that it really wouldnt be a problem if you couldn’t watch them if they hated each other.
All that talk went out the window when the first thing the pets did when they met each other was take a nap.
It was January when it happened. You had been sitting calmly in your apartment, watching Bridgerton and eating pasta, your work computer abandoned to the side of the couch. You had a blanket pulled over your lap, a hot mug of tea sitting on the coffee table in front of you. Rare snow fell softly outside your window, albeit not very much snow but snow nonetheless.
You were very content.
This, of course, all came crashing down when you heard the sound of your apartment door banging open, heavy footsteps signaling the arrival of your neighbor. You’d given him a key for emergencies, although you couldn’t possibly imagine what could warrant an emergency at this time.
You roll your eyes as you hear him approach, setting your pasta down on the table and grabbing the remote to pause your show, turning as Max throws himself down on the couch next to you.
“Hello, Max. Can I help you?” You sigh, trying to force a smile onto your face. Max seems to catch your discontent and grimaces, wincing away slightly.
“Bad time?”
You let out a breath, not able to stay mad at the Dutch man for very long, “Maybe a little, but it’s fine, really. Did you need something?”
Max nods, sitting up straighter, “I may or may not have a formal request. Neighbor to neighbor.”
You furrow your eyebrows at his response, noting his slightly nervous behavior, “Okay?”
He takes a deep breath before speaking, his eyes trailing over toward where your tv was currently paused, “You know how I just went through that breakup, right?”
You hum, all too familiar with the aforementioned breakup, having had Max barge into your apartment for comfort food and movie marathons more than a few nights in the wake of his, now ex, girlfriends departure.
“Well,” Max starts and you can sense the hesitation in his tone but considering he had interrupted your night, you opted to let him flounder, “It’s been weird on the grid since then.”
“Okay,” you hum, eyes glancing over his face and catching the way he grimaces.
“Ever since the break-up, all the guys have been looking at me like I’m a child, you know? Like I might fall apart any second. Even though I’m completely fine!”
You stare, knowing more than anyone else, that he wasn’t very fine for a while, although he’d miraculously recovered over the past few months. You also stared in hopes he’d soon get to the point of the conversation.
“They also keep trying to set me up with their friends as if I need a rebound when I would really rather stay single,” Max groans, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. Your furrow your eyebrows, wondering where this could be going.
Max glances up, eyes avoiding yours at all costs, “I was wondering if you could, maybe..”
Max trails off, wincing slightly. You stare straight ahead at him blankly, waiting for him to finish his request. He does eventually mumble something under his breath and you lean forward, eyebrows raised.
“Sorry?”
Max grumbles, annoyed and you roll your eyes at the attitude of the man disrupting your own night.
“Could you pretend to be my girlfriend for a while?” Max rushes out, hands carding through his hair nervously, “Just long enough for the guys to leave me alone, you don’t even have to do anything, maybe just come to Brazil and Monaco-“
Max continues to ramble on for a few seconds, words seeming to fall out of his mouth unceremoniously before he’s cut off by you interrupting him.
“Max!” You raise your voice slightly in an attempt to talk to over him. Max freezes, looking at your face for the first time since he’s crashed through your front door, “I’ll do it.”
He stares at you blankly for a few moments, trying to process your words, “Really?”
You shrug, teeth digging into your lip as you turn your head toward the large window across the room that overlooked the darkened city of Monte Carlo, “Why not? You’re my friend. Plus I work remotely and who doesn’t want to travel around the world to all those different cities?”
Max’s face lights up at your response, his lips forming a huge grin. He rolls over into a lying position, practically star-fishing on your couch, “Thank you so much! I owe you one.”
You hum, fighting the smile on your lips as you watch him close his eyes calmly. You slip up from the couch quietly, padding over to the kitchen to grab something.
“Where are you going? Did I scare you off already?” You hear Max call as you walk away. As you walk back over, his eyes are still closed though, signaling that he didn’t really think he’d scared you off.
He does open his eyes as you set the bowl of leftover pasta and a fork on his chest before grabbing your own and sitting down, grabbing the remote to press play. He glances over as you settle into the couch and move your blanket over your lap before he sits up. You take a bite of your pasta as you continue to watch your show. Max takes a second but he eventually digs in as well, sitting up in order to grasp the bowl better.
Even after the pastas finished, you both sit back on the couch in order to finish the show. You glance over at Max, his eyes still locked onto the screen.
What had you gotten yourself into?
————
“Are you ready?”
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you sit in the passengers seat of Max’s car, the hoards outside having no idea what was waiting for them inside. You slide your sunglasses onto your nose, hoping they’d hide at least a little bit of the anxiety flowing through you.
You nod, turning your head toward Max in the drivers seat, “Yeah, I’m good.”
Max hums, not entirely convinced but also aware he had no other option but to believe you considering he’s the one who’d asked you to do this. He opens his door, stepping out and sliding his own sunglasses on. You watch as he walks around the front of the car before stopping in front of your door and pulling it open. You pause for a moment but eventually step out, trying not to wince as the bright sun hits you.
You immediately step into his path, falling into stride next to him as you both walk toward the entrance. You hear the car lock behind you and watch Max pocket the keys.
The bright Miami sun beats down on your skin, causing you to wish you’d opted for a thinner shirt. Max had originally proposed for your first race to be Monaco but you had decided it was better to appear earlier than later for his sake. Plus, you’d always enjoyed Miami and were up for the idea of traveling there. You’d also originally planned to buy your own plane tickets but Max was quick to shut that one down.
As you both approached the turnstiles, Max pulls his lanyard out of his pocket. You don’t even notice as he pulls you inside the paddock, too busy trying not to notice the cameras surrounding you. Flashes come from all around you, the incessant clicks echoing through your head.
You finally do notice that Max hasn’t let go of your hand after he pulled you into the paddock. You grasp his hand a little tighter and he pulls you closer into his side as a response. When heat starts to rise to your face, you decide to blame it on the Miami sun.
As you both walk toward the Red Bull hospitality, heads turn to watch you walk by. You can feel people’s eyes trailing after you, locked on your unfamiliar form. Everything new in the paddock very quickly became a spectacle. Especially when it involved the current world champion.
You’re sure you’ll see pictures of yourself splashed all across the internet when you wake up in Max’s hotel room the next day. You’re sure your mom will send you whatever article they’ll attach your name to, no doubt hounding you for information about your new celebrity “boyfriend”.
You’d been curled up in Max’s hotel room the whole weekend, occasionally dipping out to get food with him between events. He’d wanted you to come to the track since Thursday but you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to step out as “Max Verstappens new girlfriend” until you’d woken up Sunday morning.
You’d woken up before Max, somehow. As you laid in your plush hotel room bed, you could hear Max’s soft breathing from the other bed filtering through the silence of the morning. Just outside the window, the city of Miami was waking up. At least, the early birds were.
You and Max had slept in the same room enough over the years, Max randomly crashing at your place pretty often, that when he suggested you getting a different room, you’d immediately turned him down. You were telling yourself it was just because it was nice to have the comfort of a friend but something deep down knew that that wasn’t the only reason.
You let the only sounds be his breathing and the light hum of the air on unit for a few more minutes while you woke up. You slid out of the bed as silently as possible, your feet padding quietly against the carpeted floor. You pull the door open to the balcony slowly, stepping out before closing it behind you. The sun is still pretty low in the sky but it still makes you flinch as it seeps into your eyes.
You sink into one of the two chairs out on the balcony, pulling your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on top, letting your thoughts run wild.
You watch Miami move below you, the sun slowly shining down brighter and brighter, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
You weren’t entirely sure why you’d agreed to this idea so quickly. With every day that passed, you wished more and more that you hadn’t. Doubt seeped through you with every second you watched Max from the hotel television. He was just so good at his job and such a cool, wonderful person and athlete. How could you keep up with him? The press would be insistent and non-stop invasive. Fans would, no doubt, dogpile on you as well, both warning to know everything about you as well as rip you apart. You start to wonder if there was a single positive of this for you.
The door slides open behind you and you can hear Max moving onto the balcony beside you. You don’t glance over, only moving your gaze away from the skyline as a mug is held in front of your face. You glance down at it, spotting the coffee inside before you grasp the mug out of his hands gently. The ceramic warms your hands, the steam from the liquid splaying across your face.
“There was only those little creamer pods,” Max hums as he takes a sip of his own mug, leaning against the bannister in front of you, “Hope that’s okay.”
You chew at your lip, taking a sip of your own mug, humming lightly as your gaze locks on his back, “That’s fine, thanks.”
You’d usually take your coffee with milk and a spoonful of sugar but you’d had enough gas station or hotel room coffee that you’d be able to survive with just the creamer pods.
You watch Max’s side profile as he stares out at the city, the sun bouncing off the edges and planes of his face and perfectly lighting up his eyes. You bask in quiet that settles between you, sipping at your coffee periodically. You don’t quickly forget the kindness of his gesture. Actually, the action stays in your head for longer than it probably should, mind running wild as you think about his motives.
You dismiss it, though, not wanting to linger on something that probably meant nothing.
“You coming to the race today?” Max turns around to face you, his back leaning against the rail he’d just been looking out over.
Your eyes trace him as he turns, evaluating his early morning form. As you look at this man, your friend, you think about the coffee in your hands. You think about the times he’d dogsat Apollo despite hating dogs, the days he’d come over just to keep you company when you were homesick, when he’d attempted to cook you soup when you’d been sick despite his complete inability to cook soup, you even think back to the first day you’d met when he’d helped you move in despite having known you for all of thirty seconds.
As all those memories passed through your mind, you suddenly remember why you’d agreed to do this in the first place.
“Yeah, I am,” you reply, taking a long sip of your coffee and hiding your grin as one of his own makes its way onto his lips.
————
That had been earlier that morning and know you were sat in Red Bull, watching as Max’s car passes the finish line in second. You’d been biting your nails the whole time, worry seeping through you. You weren’t the biggest formula 1 nerd but Max had forced you to watch enough old races for you to get what was going on. You’d even started watching his races when he was gone, something that had taken you months to admit.
Because of Max’s insistence, you knew enough to grimace as the safety car came out. You were right to grimace, of course, as Lando was quick to pass your friend, taking the lead and the win. Max, for what it’s worth, didn’t seem too angry about the result. You were aware of Landos lack of wins, seeing why his winning would make everyone happy, even the losers. Not that you were too happy, you’d only ever and only ever would cheer for Max, even if Lando was deserving of a win of his own.
Max doesn’t get asked about you during interviews. At least, not directly. He gets asked how life had been and he answers with a vague answer about love and how great life has been. You know he’s talking out of his ass but you’re grinning anyway, not able to hold back you mind from thinking about a world where everything he was saying was true.
“Landos gonna have a big celebration,” Max starts as he gets back to you after the podium, walking you both back toward his room so he can change, “He’ll probably be awake for the next 72 hours.”
You smile lightly, resting a tired head against his sweaty shoulder, “Good for him, seems like he really deserves it.”
Max nods with a pleasant look on his face, “Yeah, I’m not even that mad about losing. Nothing I could’ve done really. Im just glad he got his win.”
You nod, taking a breath in order to hold back the yawn threatening to leave your mouth, “You should go to his party, I’ll just go grab some dinner and head back to get some sleep.”
You both stop as you reach his room, Max facing you as he leans back against the door to open it. You notice the deep furrow in his eyebrows as he locks eyes with you, “What are you talking about?”
You furrow your own eyebrows as a response, tilting your head to the side, “You should go celebrate with your friend? Go have fun, Max!”
He shakes his head as he enters the room, quickly gathering his things to go take a quick shower, “Why would I celebrate a loss with a coworker when I can get some quality time with a friend instead? I’d rather celebrate a win with you instead of a loss without you. Trust me, you’ll be there to see me win.”
You’re already at a loss for words at his response but your rendered speechless as Max pulls his fireproofs off, tossing the shirt to the side passively. He turns away from you and you watch his muscles ripple under his skin, your face hearing greatly. His arms flex as he reaches for something and you have to bite your lip to keep your mouth closed. Your eyes are wide as he turns to glance over his shoulder at you, “That okay?”
At the risk of sounding like an idiot if you attempt to respond with words, you simply nod, eyes moving toward the floor. You don’t notice the smirk that forms on his lips as he catches your stare.
“I’m gonna shower and then we can leave,” he calls out over his shoulder as he walks into his bathroom. Your eyes are still locked onto the floor. You hear the sound of water pattering against the floor just after the door shuts.
You take a large sip of your water bottle, trying to wet your drying throat and keep the heat in your face at bay. You feel like you might be going crazy, the image of Max’s shirtless back etched into your mind.
Jesus Christ.
————
“What do you wanna watch?” Max mumbles through a mouth full of pizza, his hand coming up to covering it as he speaks.
You shrug, “I don’t know.”
Max shrugs as well, grabbing the remote off the nightstand and passively flickering through the channels as he swallows his bite of pizza, “Come get some food.”
He gestures toward the box of pizza on the edge of his bed with the remote, glancing toward you sitting in your own bed, watching him instead of the tv. You slide off the bed, taking the few steps it takes to get to his own and gently settling on the side he wasn’t currently sitting on.
Max watches you move, humming as you grasp a piece from the pizza box before he turns his attention back to the screen. You don’t notice as he settles on a movie, too busy trying not to absolutely scarf down the food in your hand.
Your eyes do leave the slice to glance over at Max, legs outstretched with his back firmly against the headboard. He’s wearing a Red Bull hoodie, even managing to wear team merch in his own bedroom. He’s also got some old basketball shorts, a faded logo sitting on the upper thigh that, no matter how much you try, you can’t understand.
You look away when you hear the familiar sound of Lightning McQueen echoing out of the television speakers. You quickly catch sight of the Italian formula car, deducing that Max has chosen Cars 2, of all movies.
You try your best not to laugh but a giggle escapes you anyway, causing you to bury your head in your shoulder to try and hide your grin.
“What?” Max asks you and you look forward again, eyes locked onto the movie, “What’s so funny?”
Your head turns toward the driver who’s grin is now matching your own, “You chose probably the only movie on here that uses the words “Grand Prix” can’t even get away from racing in your hotel room.”
He feigns offense for a few moments before reaching forward to grab another piece of pizza and sliding down into more of a lying position, “It’s a good movie.”
You both turn to the screen for a few moments but the second Lewis Hamilton’s voice rings out in the silence, you laugh loudly, Max groaning beside you.
You quickly dissolve into giggles, trying your hardest to reign it in but when you look over and see the amused frown on Max’s face, you’re right back into it again, Max laughing in response.
You both do eventually settle down, watching the movie and eating your food together. Even after the pizza box is empty and max moves to set it on the table, you don’t move from your spot, using the reasoning that it’s just easier to see the screen from his bed.
You try not to notice the proximity between you. You’d been holding hands all day and you’d pressed several kisses to his cheeks and forehead, being near him shouldn’t bother you. But when you shift slightly closer just to get more comfortable and Max’s arm falls down over your shoulder, you freeze, keeping as still as you can.
He doesn’t move his arm through the rest of the movie. Not that you’d know, considering you drift off with about half an hour to go. But Max doesn’t notice that either, considering how he fell asleep just after.
You wake up before him again the next morning, don’t the same thing you’d done the day before and walking out to the balcony. Max does the same thing he did as well, walking out with two mugs grasped gently in his grip.
When you take the mug from him, you try not to think about the fact you’d woken up limbs tangled with his and your face pressed into his chest.
————
The São Paulo Grand Prix.
It had been 6 months of this charade with Max. That’s right, you’d managed to suffer through 6 whole months of pretending to be his girlfriend. There’s been countless headlines from various news sites, trying their best to figure out every single detail about your life and relationship with Max.
The only thing keeping your mind together was the root of the problem himself and your prolonged roommate, Max.
He was actually really lovely. Every time you suggested a different room for his sake, you’d end up right where you were the week before, in a bed across from his. You’d also kept the same morning routine every day, waking up before Max and sitting out on the balcony until he brought coffee out for both of you.
He’d eventually gotten to a point where he sat in the chair next to you as opposed to standing up and leaning against the railing. There was still little conversation, though, you both enjoying the silence of an early morning instead.
This specific morning, you were watching the city of São Paulo move along below you. Goosebumps raised slightly as the wind-chilled November air nipped at the skin on your arms. The sun hadn’t completely rose yet and the previous nights rain had left the air colder than it should’ve been. You found yourself rubbing your hands over your arms and wishing you’d worn something other than a t-shirt.
The door slides open behind you and you take the mug as it’s placed in your eye line, grateful for the heat of the mug to warm up your cold hands. You lower your face toward the mug, letting the steam warm up your wind-chilled skin. You go to take a sip but it burns at your lips when you tilt the mug, causing you to set it down on the small table in order for it to cool for a few moments.
After you set it down, something lands in your lap. You look down, holding the item up and quickly recognizing it as one of Max’s Red Bull hoodies. You glance over at him but he’s still looking out over the city below, sipping passively at his mug of black coffee.
You look back down at the item of clothing, glancing between it and the owner for a few seconds before deciding to slip it on, your cold skin winning out over any reasonable thought that would tell you not to wear it.
The hoodies too big for you and it smells like Max but you don’t really seem to mind either of those things. Especially as your skin heats as the fabric passes over it.
Once you’ve got the hoodie on, you pick up your coffee again, blowing on it slightly to cool it down. You raise the cup to your lips, letting the warm liquid flow into your mouth.
You hum at the taste, quickly noticing that it tastes different than usual. You furrow your eyebrows, taking another sip. The oh-so wonderful taste that you’d missed so dearly over the past 6 months takes over your tastebuds. The taste of real milk and sugar.
You hum pleasantly, grasping the cup tightly. You glance over toward the man who’d handed you the drink, “Is this milk and sugar?”
Max glances toward you for a split-second before he looks back over the city, taking a sip of his own coffee, “Yeah, that’s how you like it, right? You always drink it like that back home.”
You ignore the jolt in your stomach when Max refers to the Monaco apartments as a shared home. You bite your lip with an affirmative hum, “Where’d you get milk and sugar?”
“Couldn’t sleep last night, went for a walk. There’s a corner store down the block and I picked some up,” Max says it casually, like it’s not the most considerate anyone had been of you, maybe ever.
You stare at him for a few moments, trying to ignore the warm feeling in your chest as you imagine him thinking about you enough to buy coffee ingredients the way you liked them.
As you sat outside, in his hoodie, sipping on the coffee he had made and handed to you, you finally accept what you’d been trying to deny for six months, if not longer.
You were in love with Max Verstappen.
You longed for the domesticity that was so present on mornings like these. You wanted to live this life with him all the time. You didn’t just want to fall asleep beside him after a race but you wanted to be able to press your lips against his when he won instead of the light touches you’d flutter against his cheek. You wanted to wear his hoodies all the time, not just when you were cold and forgot one of your own. You wanted to stop pretending in front of his friends. You wanted the hushed whispers to be sweet nothings instead of scheming and planning.
You wanted this life with him. All the time.
“Max-” you start but you’re quickly cut off by Max as he speaks instead.
“My ex is going to be at this race,” he states and you close your mouth, deflating slightly as you look away, “Just wanted to prepare you in case we run into her. You could also, um, probably stop coming once you scare her off.”
You nod meekly, taking a sip of your coffee. What had once been your idea of a sanctuary with the silence of the morning is now too quiet, allowing your thoughts to be the only noise in your head, images of Max’s ex rolling around aimlessly.
You stand up quickly, taking rushed steps back into the room. You down the last sips of your coffee and slide it onto the table, moving hurriedly around the room to gather your things for a shower. You vaguely notice Max walking back into the room with a confused look but you don’t even look up as you rush into the bathroom, “I’m taking a shower.”
“Okay?” Max says as you close the door behind you. You don’t notice the frown on his face as he disappears from view.
You’re too busy throwing off his hoodie and turning the shower to practically scalding heat, trying your hardest to rid yourself of thoughts about a life with Max, thoughts of his ex-girlfriend or thoughts about the stupid coffee he’d handed you and how stupid you were to be reading so much into it.
For a moment there, you’d thought that Max was enjoying this as much as you were. But his words were quick to remind you that you were only there to do a favour for him. He is only there to get his friends and his ex off his back. After that, you were free to go. It even vaguely sounded like Max didn’t want you to come back around the next weekend.
Why else would he have said that? Why else would he have suggested you stop coming? Especially just after talking about his ex. It was a stark reminder that you were only a tool for him to mess with his ex. She was the one he’d loved, you were just a girl he knew.
You stay under the scalding water long enough for the mirrors to fog and your fingertips to prune. Your cuticles sting from where the hot water had made its way into the raw skin, the cuts still fresh from where you’d been anxiously picking at them.
You only pull yourself from the water when you start to sway from the heat, your head going light and an ache echoing through your skull.
————
A few hours later, you’re by Max’s side again, although there’s a slightly larger distance between you than usual.
That would change soon, no doubt, when Max spotted his ex, pulling you close to attempt to show his devotion to your fake relationship.
But for now, you're an arms-length away, hoping that pushing him away would also push away your own feelings.
Max can't grasp even an idea as to why you were acting like this. Did you really want this to be over that badly? He knew he'd mentioned the idea of your… situation ending but he didn't think you'd be this eager to get away from him.
At the first camera flash, you take a step closer to Max, knowing how even the smallest hint of discontent between you would be twisted for headlines and it would end with your concerned mother calling you fifty times to check on your relationship after seeing an article on Facebook.
So you step closer, reaching over to intertwine your hands. Max doesn't resist and you try not to read into the gentle squeeze he replies with.
Brazils nice. Or at least, you assume. You'd been too distracted to take much notice. But you do notice the fans yelling from all around. Lively crowds sway and shout in the distance, hues of blue and black and orange all represented amongst the groups.
Max leads you through the paddock, determination clear in his steps. It was most likely just his own determination not to talk to anyone, especially a certain ex-girlfriend.
You both get to Red Bull without an unwanted interaction and the second you're out of the public eye, you're dropping his hand, none the wiser to the confused look on the driver's face.
The tension's palpable in his small room. Awkward conversation flows, your words biting and curt. Neither of you wants to address the obvious undertones your words contain. One of hostility and unshared secrets. But you manage to survive until Max has to leave to get ready for the race and you follow just a few minutes later, making your way to watch said race.
The race is fine. Max wins, but you were never in doubt about that. He was starting from pole, it'd be pretty hard for him to lose. Lando finished just a few seconds behind him, having closed the gap a bit after getting past George.
As the team starts to leave to go greet Max, Christian Horner pulls you along, saying something about Max wanting you at the barrier after the race. You're sure its just so he can put on a show for his ex.
But you follow along anyway, trying not to stumble in your heels as Christian walks along a lot faster than you'd want to.
You pass through other teams and friends and guests or the drivers, waving slightly at people you’d gotten to know over the past six months. The thought of not seeing any of these people again after you and Max faked a breakup made your stomach hurt but you ignore it, trying to tell yourself it was for the better.
When Christian reaches the team, he guides you both through the crowd, smiling politely at the engineers as he slides by.
It seems you both reach the barrier just in time, as Max is parking when you come to a stop. You watch as he pulls himself out of the car, cheering a bit to the fans around as he stands atop it. When he pulls off his helmet and balaclava, you try your hardest not to smile at the pure joy on his face.
He glances over his shoulder at something you can't see before he turns and catches your eye, quickly moving in your direction. Before you can even say a word, he's set his helmet down and wrapped both his hands around the sides of your face, pulling it toward his own. His lips are warm, the heat of the race still emanating off of him. You dismiss the sweat in his hair as you wrap a hand softly around the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his locks. Your other hand rests on the side of his face, your thumb tracing the marks his helmet had left around his eyes.
You pull away first, glancing up into his eyes with a gentle smile, “Good job, you did amazing Max.”
His face heats and he glances away with a light chuckle, “Thank you, baby. I'm glad you're here.”
You wish he'd stop calling you that. At least for the sake of your heart jumping in your chest every time he does.
He looks away but your eyes are still firmly locked on the side of his face, tracing the familiar path around his features that they'd forged over the past six months. The same path they took every morning when you watched him look out over whatever city you were in that weekend. The same path they took when he fell asleep first during a movie in hopes of memorizing every detail before you slunk back into your own bed to fall asleep, the image of his face still etched into your mind.
But as you stare up at Max, trying to memorize the puzzle pieces of his face while he talks to Christian, you realize how futile of an endeavour it is. Not matter how hard you try, you'll never get the slope of his nose just right in your memories. You'll never get the right shade of turquoise for his eyes. The sandy-dark-blond of his hair will fade away until it was nothing in your mind but the shade of your coffee in the morning instead of the colour of his hair.
Maybe you should find a different apartment. Surely, Monaco had a different apartment complex that was far enough away from Max to rid yourself of the incessant thoughts of him that constantly plagued your love-adled brain.
Throughout all of that, you’d almost forgotten you were in love with him.
But when Max turns back to you, a glint in his eyes and a bright smile gracing his lips, you're suddenly all too aware of that fact.
“I’ll see you in a minute, yeah?”
You nod, smile slowly drifting as he walks away to get weighed and do all the usual post-race theatrics.
Christian pats his hand on your shoulder firmly, smiling as you turn around, “Let’s get to the podium, kid.”
You let Christian lead you away, yet again making his way through the crowd to get you both to the front.
The podium celebration is cute, Max’s happiness practically contagious. Lando and George are enthralled as well, the Brits both happy to back on the podium once again.
But when Max leans over to spray the champagne on the team, you put your hands over your face as Christian laughs beside you, both of you trying to avoid the sticky liquid as much as possible.
You peel away from the crowd after Max walks off, trying to find your way to wherever Max had gone.
As you'd left, you'd wandered away from Christian, who knew the paddock much better than you did. This was your first time here and you found yourself looking around for any sign of the Red Bull driver or, at least, a familiar face who could point you in the right direction.
It takes you a few minutes to gain your bearings but when you hear the familiar sound of Max’s voice, you go that direction, turning a corner to see his face.
And you do see him, post-race glow and all. But it's not just him you find. Standing entirely too close to him with her hand resting on his shoulder, is Max’s ex-girlfriend. She's smiling warmly, nodding animatedly at whatever it is Max is saying. Which, from constantly talking to him, you know is not worth the reaction she's giving him.
He's glancing around, clearly not comfortable with the situation. You huff, looking around before conceding and walking over to the pair. Were you maybe taking your time a little bit? Yeah, but you really didn't want to do this.
You roll your eyes when you catch Max’s eye and a relieved look rolls over his face, “Hey, baby.”
Max uses your arrival as an excuse to take a step back, swinging his arm around your shoulder. He's still covered in champagne and sweat but you ignore it, “Hey, Max.”
You finally glance up to meet the eye of the woman in front of you, her eyes narrowed as she looks between you, “Oh my god, hi! You must be Max’s ex!”
She rolls her eyes before smiling tightly with a nod of her head, “Yeah, I am. You must be his new girlfriend.”
You hum affirmatively, smiling wide as you glance over to the man beside you, “I am, yeah. He's just so perfect. We’re so happy together!”
She narrows her eyes again, glancing you up and down before her eyes stop on your face. You roll your head to the side to rest your temple on his shoulder, resting one of your hands against his chest.
“Well, I’m happy you moved on, Max,” She says, turning her entire attention to the man in question, “You seem… perfect together.”
Max gleams, nodding as he leans in to kiss your cheek, “Yeah, I’m really happy.”
His ex chews on her bottom lip for a few moments before huffing and moving away, turning to shout over her shoulder as she walks away, “Have a great life, Max!”
“Thanks, I guess!” Max replies, laughing as soon as the woman is out of earshot. He pulls away from your side, turning to fully face you.
“Thank you!” Max cheers, grasping your shoulders with his hands, “Did you see her face? She was so pissed that I'd moved on.”
You hum, letting him be happy by himself while you stood quietly, “Yeah, you're welcome.”
You peel away from Max, turning to go back to the car park so you can leave. You don't say anything to Max before you walk away, leaving him to jog to catch up to you.
“You okay?” He asks once he's by your side again. You glance over, catching the concerned look on his face.
“Yeah,” you nod curtly, looking back ahead, “Yeah, I'm fine.”
He doesn't seem convinced but he leaves it be, turning away as well.
He pretends not to notice when you coincidentally step away after he tries to grab your hand.
While Max debriefs, you text one of your friends to ask if you could stay with her for a few days when you got back to Monaco. After this fake relationship was over, you needed to get away from Max for a while just to try and push away the growing feelings you have for the Dutch man.
And with the departure of Max’s ex, you'd served your purpose and you could finally get out of Max’s life and give him the solitude he so longed for.
The ride back to the hotel is quiet, the only noise being the sound of your nails tapping against the screen of your phone. Max glances over periodically but you eventually set your phone down, choosing to stare out the window as the dark streets of Brazil pass by quickly.
When you get back to the hotel, you open the car door before Max can get it for you like he usually does. He sends you another glance, trailing passively behind as you walk in front of him. You both pass through the lobby and the elevator, your steps determined and much quicker than Max really wanted to be walking.
He's still riding the high of his win and the defeat of his ex-girlfriend but you're in your own mind, too sick to your stomach to be happy for him.
You pull out the spare room key when you arrive at the room, pressing it against the sensor before shoving the door open roughly, letting it fall against Max behind you who catches it.
You toss the key on the table by the door and set your phone down beside it. You still don't turn around as you throw the jacket he had let you borrow down on his bed.
"What is your problem?" You hear Max’s voice ring out in the otherwise quiet room. Annoyance paints his words, causing you to pause for a split-second.
"I don't have a problem." You say, cringing when you catch how much of a lie it sounds. You move on, though, pulling your suitcase out from under the bed and unzipping it.
Max scoffs, raising a disbelieving eyebrow, "Are you sure? Because it really feels like you do."
"It's nothing, Max." You reply sharply, walking into the attached bathroom, grateful to get away from his gaze for a second.
You come back out, your toiletry bag in hand. You set it down in your suitcase and stand up, walking over to the closet and pulling your clothes off the rack. The sound of the hangers hitting together echoes through your head, only contributing to the headache that had been growing since your revelation that morning.
Max finally catches onto what you're doing and speaks, his voice almost panicked, "What are you doing?"
"Leaving."
"What, already? Why?" You try not to be swayed by the hurt in his voice, turning around and walking past him to set your clothes down in your case.
He follows you over, stepping closer as you stand up. You try and step past him but he puts his arm out, stopping you in your tracks. You concede with a sigh, finally looking him in his eyes.
"It doesn't matter, Max.”
"But it does! What's wrong?" You finally step past him, on your way to go gather the rest of your things but his question makes you turn your head as you walk away.
"Max! It doesn't matter!" You immediately regret how loud your voice is but this wasn't exactly the time to be thinking about the people next door.
Max shakes his head, following you as you walk toward the doot in order to grab your shoes, "No, no, no. You've been like this all day and I can't think of a reason why. Do you really want to get away from me that badly?"
Your face twists, causing you to shake your head as you walk away, praying he wont follow you this time, "No, Max, that's not-"
He doesn't completely follow you but he does step a bit closer, shaking his head with a loud groan, "Then enlighten me! What could possibly happened in the past day that's making you act like this? Why are you leaving? Why won't you tell me? I thought we were supposed to be in this together! Why are you-"
"Because I'm in love with you, Max!" You shout, finally turning to face him as you say it, making eye contact with him for the first time since you'd walked in.
Silence falls between you and you toss your shoes down, covering your face with one of your hands. For a second, you think that Max might never respond, your stomach turning at the thought.
How hard could it be to find a different apartment in Monaco?
"What?" Max’s voice is soft and you look back to him, trying to will your frustrated tears not to fall.
"I'm in love with you! I fell in love with you and I know you don't feel the same. You only wanted me to do this to placate your friends and scare away your ex and now im getting out of your hair. I'm leaving you alone like you wanted in the first place,” Tears finally drip down your face and you don't bother to wipe them away, knowing there was only more where they came from. You look away as you explain, eyes locked onto the carpet beneath you, not wanting to face your embarrassment head-on.
"What are you talking about?" At Max’s purely confused tone, you look back to his face, teeth digging sharply into your bottom lip.
His face is soft, confusion etched into the furrow between his brows. Your stomach flips and you swallow, trying to rebuild the confidence you’d had at the start of your outburst.
The hotel room suddenly feels too cold, the air causing you to rub your hands over your shoulders in order to suppress the goosebumps that had started to rise. When you do speak again, your voice is soft, volume just above a whisper.
"This morning. You said I could stop coming after this race. And I did my job, I scared away your ex. You don't need me,” you trail off at the end of your statement, your voice breaking slightly as you shake your head, tears streaming out of your closed eyes and down your cheeks.
You expect Max to agree, to send you away, to end your friendship out of pure embarrassment after your decleration.
But he doesn't.
His voice is soft, just as yours was. His words are hushed but the emotion behind them seeps through every single word.
"I do, though. I do need you."
You look up, eyes widening at his statement. You can do nothing but stare as he steps closer, his hands grasping the sides of your face. Your own hands reach up to hold his wrists, just wanting to hold him someway.
He raises an eyebrow gently, quirking his head to ask for silent permission. You nod and its only a split-second before he's leaning down, pressing his lips against yours.
His hands cradle the back of your head, pulling you impossibly closer. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest, his kiss causing your brain to practically melt. You mold together, leaning as close to him as you can as your hold conveys months and months of pent-up and hidden emotions.
As he pulls away, your lips want to chase his but you hold back, your eyes flickering open as he leans his forehead against yours. Neither of your speak for a few moments, silence settling between the two of you ask you bask in the adoration between you.
Max’s hand drifts back to your jaw, his thumb drifting across your cheekbone passively. You see his eyes look up and you glance up as well, catching his sparkling gaze in yours.
“I love you,” the words tumble out of his mouth, falling smoothly out of the lips you oh-so wished he would press against your own once again, “I'm in love with you. I fell for you during this whole thing, everything about you.”
You go to respond but he cuts you off, shaking his head lightly.
“I only told you that you could stop coming because I thought you'd grown tired of all this,” he takes a deep breath before continuing, leaning slightly into your hand that had drifted into his hair, “But I'm kind of glad I did.”
You furrow your eyebrows, quirking your head. Max pauses, allowing you the chance to admire every feature of his face, turning his freckles into constellations that you'd willingly stargaze in for hours. His hair is tousled from where your fingers had tangled in it and his lips are red from being pressed against yours. His teeth dig into said lip as he thinks before responding. You'd honestly be fine if he never finished his thought and you got to just look at him forever.
But he does finish his thought, the look in his eyes making your heart jump, "Because I don't want to pretend anymore."
You wait a moment, giving him the chance to take it back in case this was a joke, in case he didn't really mean it. But he doesn't take it back, he doesn't laugh.
And so you nod, "I want to do this with you for real, Max. I don't want to lie to anyone anymore, I want to celebrate with you after a race, not because people expect me to, but because I love you."
Max lights up, his face splitting into a wide grin at your words. Before you can react, his arms are around you and your feet are lifted off the ground as Max basically throws you onto the bed beside you.
Your laugh echoes through the hotel room, punctuated by the sound of Max flopping down next to you. You continue to giggle, glancing down to meet Max’s eyes, a special glint shining through.
You calm down after a few seconds as Max continures to gaze at you. When silence finally comes over you, Max leans up to rest on his elbows as you sit up slightly to look down at him.
“I love you too, by the way,” He says softly, “Dont know if you noticed.”
You hum, biting your lip to hold back your laugh, “I assumed so, yeah.”
You laugh as Max huffs, reaching a hand up to pull you down beside him, “Shut up.”
And you do, going quiet as your lips meet his. Later that night, as your both lying in bed, together this time, you fall asleep with your head against his chest, basking in the long-lastint but newly-confessed love between you.
The next morning, you wake up before Max, as you'd done so often. You slip out of his hold and pad over softly to the balcony, sliding on one of his hoodies before you open the sliding door.
You sink into one of the two chairs, looking out over the city of Sao Paulo as it slowly wakes up. The sun peeks out over the horizon, adding light to the previously dark morning.
Eventually, the door slides open behind you and you don’t even have to look to know it’s Max. But you look anyway, happy to take any chance to observe the man.
You take the mug from his offering hand, grasping the warm ceramic tightly. Max doesn’t walk over to the railing, instead moving toward the chair next to you. Before he sits down, he slides it over, pushing it as close to your chair as it could go. He sits down and you twist to sit sideways, leaning your legs over the arm of the chair. Max gently pulls your ankles over his chair to rest in his lap before he takes a long sip of his coffee.
You take a long sip of your own mug as well, letting the taste of the coffee coat your throat and warm your heart.
Milk and sugar, just the way you like it.
——————
Tags: @evie-119 @casperlikej
#scheduled#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#formula 1#max verstappen x fem!reader#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x reader
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that’s the way road dogs do it || one
joel miller x f!reader
a/n: this one is a little wild; part two is already shaping up to be even more wild. many smooches to my beloveds: @pedrospatch for all the reassurance and support and for beta’ing this bad boy for me, and to @dinandwhiskey for screaming with me about this idea many many moons ago <33
pairing: ex-boyfriend’s dad!joel x f!reader summary: on a night out with friends, you run into someone from your past. warnings: [no-outbreak au], big girthy age gap [reader is in her 20’s, joel is 50’s], alcohol consumption, allusions to cheating [not by joel or reader], no sarah or ellie but joel has a son, joel has tattoos and is a biker, pet names [darlin’, baby, kiddo], sexualization of the term kiddo [from the deepest darkest pits of my soul…idfc], a little bit of humiliation, panty sniffing, a teensy bit of fingering, a little manhandling, pervy!joel [he’s also a little fucked up and really unhinged but so am i so whateva], pussy pronouns, dirty talk [umm it gets weird lol], daddy kink, degradation, semi-public sex, rough unprotected p in v sex, mirror sex, hair pulling, dubcon [joel takes pictures of her that she doesn’t verbally consent to], smidgen of angst [ofc bc it’s me], creampie, body marking/writing [use of a pen], soft!joel, reader wears a skirt, has hair, wears makeup, and has two tattoos that are described within the story word count: 8.6k
masterlist || ao3 || follow @joelsdaggerupdates for fic updates!
Bad Habits is the bar where you spend every Friday night after work with your friends. It’s always too loud and too bright for your liking. But they serve good booze for a reasonable price and it’s on the way back from your office. Your Friday night usual; stopping at the bar with some friends from work before you bore yourself to sleep by looking over briefings and finalizing notes you need to send over to your boss in time for Monday’s nine am meeting.
You excuse yourself from the booth and head for the bar, plopping yourself on the velvet cushion of a creaky bar stool as you set your purse on the sticky bartop, ordering yourself another drink. Your phone chimes, and you sigh as you pull it out of your purse along with a pen and notepad, knowing it’s an email with a list of requests from your boss. He did tell you he’d send it to you before the end of the night.
It’s when one of your hands is pressed to your temple, the other scribbling down your boss’ requests on paper when you hear it — a low, gravelly Southern drawl, a voice laced with honey — that you thought you’d never hear again.
“This seat taken?”
Your pen freezes for a moment; you could pick that voice out of a suspect line-up. It never left you. But you willingly ignore him and decide you’re going to have a little fun of your own with him, so you continue finalizing your thoughts on paper as he situates himself beside you and orders a glass of whiskey while he’s at it.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ sittin’ in a place like this all by herself?”
“I’m not alone. My friends are over there,” you throw your thumb, pen in hand, over your shoulder, jutting to your booth. “Just needed another drink,” you say, your eyes never leaving the notepad.
“Why won’t you let me see your face, darlin?” he asks, head tilting to the side, assessing you.
You snort. “Why. So you can decide whether or not my face is pretty enough to fuck — Mr. Miller?” Your voice drops an octave at the end of the sentence.
You finally turn your head so you’re face to face with the man beside you, the father of your ex-boyfriend.
Surprise flashes across his face; his mouth hangs agape briefly before he shuts it tightly. You watch as the Adam’s apple bops slowly in his throat. For once, the father of your shit-eating, cheating ex-boyfriend doesn’t have a comeback. He clears his throat as he attempts to recover.
“Didn’t realize it was you, darlin’,” he says gruffly, a hand coming up to scratch his beard.
You chuckle to yourself a little. “Of course you didn’t. The last time we saw each other was what? A year ago? Maybe more?” you quip.
“You look different,” he says matter-of-factly, eyes glossing over your figure so quick you almost miss it.
You raise an eyebrow at him; the corner of your mouth kicks up as you tilt the rim of your glass to your lips, hiding your smirk behind a sip.
“Good. I mean — you look good,” he tips his glass on its heel, eyeing it as he toys with it.
You tilt your head in a shrug, “I needed a change.”
After Joel Miller’s son cheated on you and broke your heart, after you let the hurt linger for a few weeks and told your sob story to your friends who happily listened, you took their advice.
You need something new, something fresh, babe.
It really does help.
You’ll feel like a whole new person.
Trust me, it’ll be good for you.
You dyed your hair a few times, until you found a shade that felt more you. You got yourself a whole new wardrobe, something a little less fucking prudish and a little more slutty, and despite the cliché of it all, their suggestions did help to leave that shy, agreeable girl in the dust. The breakup was the last push you needed to leave it all behind.
And now here you are, a little over a year later, sitting beside your ex’s father, whom you once hated to admit to yourself — no, you never really admitted it to yourself, but you found him attractive. Fuck. Who were you kidding? You didn’t just find Joel Miller, the father of your ex-boyfriend, attractive; you found yourself wanting to open your legs for him more than you did for his son, whom you had been dating for eight months.
His eyes fall to your chest, trailing down the low cut of your top, and fixating on the peaks of your nipples beneath the tight fabric, and your heart stutters. “Quite the change,” a hint of a glint swimming in his hazel eyes.
You can’t say the same for him.
You take him in now; he looks almost exactly the same, apart from a few more wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes. Still, he’s somehow more handsome.
His tousled salt-and-pepper hair still sits messily on his head, though his beard is lined with more silver than you remember.
Fuck.
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes trail down his body, thick shoulders and thick arms deliciously clad in his black leather jacket, and beneath that, his white t-shirt pulls taut across his broad chest.
And oh.
Joel’s head turns, peering over his shoulder at the sound of glass breaking. Your eyes flick back up and catch a curl of black ink on the tanned skin beneath his collar. That’s new.
When he turns back, he raises the glass to his lips with a scoff, clouding the inside of it, and the dim light from above the bar catches on the square face of a gold band on his marked pinkie finger. That’s also new. Your eyes don’t miss that his fourth finger still remains devoid of a wedding ring.
“I have your son to thank for that." You drop your phone, pen, and notepad into your purse, giving him your full attention.
A muscle in Joel’s jaw ticks. Flicks his tongue across his bottom lip before he bites it. Is it a show of anger? Disappointment? You’re not quite sure.
But there is one thing that you are sure of: Joel Miller liked having you around. You knew it. You were aware that his eyes lingered whenever he saw you. You caught it from the very first time. When you showed up at his house, in jeans that clung to you like skin, how you bent at the waist to fish your keys out of his sofa cushion, and in your periphery, caught the subtle tilt of his head to get a better look at how the denim hugged your ass just right, feeling his eyes boring into you, your skin sizzling with heat.
If you’re being honest, you didn’t care. You didn’t feel guilty or shameful for how Joel looked at you. You basked in how he made you feel; you certainly weren’t getting that kind of attention from his son. He had his eyes (and his dick) on someone else.
You liked how that very last night you spent at Joel Miller’s house — a fortnight before you broke up with his son — you padded down the hallway to the bathroom in an old skirt that you had outgrown (wearing it only because it was the last of clean bottoms before laundry day), and you overheard Joel Miller in his bedroom, fucking his fist and coming with a gruff groan of your name on his lips.
You just weren’t sure if he knew that you knew.
His body twists, props a leg up on the footrest of your bar stool. “What happened between you two? He never talked about it,” he inquires.
You scoff. “He gets that from you, you know, not talking about things. Think he knows it too.”
Confusion floods his features.
Your eyes drop to the inside of your glass. “Your divorce. Jason complained all the time about how neither of you talked about it.”
“There was nothin’ to talk about. She left,” he quips.
“She cheated on you,” you retort.
“How did–”
“He knew, and he watched when you didn’t fight it. Think that’s why he did the same to me.”
“That kid. Always fucking trouble,” he huffs, then takes a short sip.
“Hey, you raised him,” you joke.
“I didn’t raise him to be a piece of shit,” he bites, shakes his head instantly, eyes meeting yours, and there’s something behind them that you can’t quite place yet.
“I’m not saying it’s your fault, I just—" You sigh exasperatedly, “I think seeing how you didn’t fight for your marriage, for your wife, messed with him. And as much as I hate him for getting his dick wet in another girl, I think... well, now I know why he did it." Right shoulder tips in a slight shrug.
Joel’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline.
“What?” you ask.
“Nothin'—I didn’t expect I’d ever hear you say that.”
You look at him pointedly.
“Gettin’ his dick wet,” he repeats. “I’m not used to hearing you say things like that s’all,” he says with a breathless laugh, shaking his head a little.
You sigh. “Told you, heartbreak is a hell of a thing.”
“You didn’t deserve that darlin’, M’sorry,” he soothes. He leans towards you, a heavy hand dropping to your bare thigh, fingers wrapping tightly around it. It takes everything in you not to squeeze your thighs shut at his touch.
You avert your eyes, scanning the crowd in the bar, your eyes eventually landing on your friends all crammed in the booth before looking back at Joel. “Everything happens for a reason, I guess.”
His head dips, eyebrows go up in surprise, his expression a slight mixture of shock and guilt. “You really believe that?”
You flash him a soft smile. You’re not sure that you do, but selfishly, it’s easier than the truth, and whatever it was, you’re not concerned about it anymore. “It’s fine, Mr. Miller, honestly," you clarify.
His calloused thumb rubs small circles on your thigh; heat radiates there. “How many times, I gotta tell you, it’s Joel,” he insists.
Your eyes roll, “alright. Joel, it’s fine. I’m much happier now.”
“Oh yeah?" His hand releases your thigh; your body feels like it’ll wilt without the heat of his touch. His arms cross over as he leans forward on the bartop. The cuff of his left sleeve raises, revealing ink curling around his wrist. Did he complete his sleeve? You swallow thickly, your eyes lingering.
"Got yourself a new boyfriend?’” He asks.
You finally peel your eyes away, arching your brow. “What makes you say that?”
His boot brushes against your bare ankle as he turns towards you; electricity sparks up your leg and up the base of your spine, awakening a long-dormant need. “Nothin’, just reckon that a pretty thing like yourself has a new stupid college fella.”
You chuckle. “I don’t date, it's not worth my time anymore.” You take a swig of your drink, swallow the tang down, and it mixes with the lick of heat, slowly spreading its way into your veins. You’re trying to tame the surge of energy zipping through your body, but it’s so damn hot beneath the lights lining the bar. And the chatter buzzing around the room, coupled with the weight of Joel’s gaze, isn’t fucking helping. It’s overwhelming, the nerves and arousal taking over, lacing with the alcohol in your system.
“That so?” His voice is a low rumble, dangerous. The corners of his lips twitch; your eyes dart down to them.
You set your glass down on the dark wood with a clink, and your fingers begin tracing the rim of the glass. “And you?” Your body is warm and humming, something churning deep in your core.
His hazel eyes slowly rake down your body, a hint of hunger in them as they pause at the hem of your skirt, barely covering the place where you need him most; your skin is on fire under the heat of his gaze, and for a moment you have to resist the urge not to pounce on him right there in a bar full of people.
His voice cuts through your reverie as he answers. “Not in the cards for me, darlin’,” his eyes crease before he tips the glass to his lips.
“Guess we got one thing in common,” you sigh and mirror him.
His eyes never leave yours as he takes a sip, and your chest blooms. Black takes up the hazel hues in his eyes, full of lust, and you think back to all the times you’ve had his attention; only now it’s worse because you can act on it. And maybe it’s the liquid courage in your blood. Maybe it’s some stroke of desire for revenge. Maybe it’s just that — desire. Maybe it’s because you know him. Know by all those times you racked up in your brain of longing stares and fleeting tugs of every nerve of your body.
So you think, with the very obvious throbbing in your core, with desire turning molten and pooling between your thighs that you can no longer ignore, that now is your chance; you’ve got nothing holding either of you back this time.
“You want to get out of here?” Your eyes fall down his body and bite your lip as you take in his broad form again.
He chuckles darkly. “Can’t leave my crew, sweetheart,” he juts his chin towards an area behind you. Your body twists, and laughter threatens to bubble in your chest when you spot them. Three men, all silver-haired and scruffy beards that cover surly faces, all clad in tethered leather jackets, sit in a corner towards the back of the bar.
You turn back to Joel with a hint of smirk on your lips. “Aren’t you getting a little old to still be biking around? Shouldn't fossils be encased or padded up or something? You know as they age they don't hold up very well,” you tease.
He bares his teeth with a crooked grin; the corners of his eyes crease. “Careful, kiddo,” voice a low warning, but there’s a hint of playfulness behind it.
You knock back the rest of your drink swiftly, ignoring how it burns the back of your throat. “Well, that’s too bad,” you start. Driven by the alcohol coursing through your burning veins and the painful ache at the apex of your thighs, your left hand grabs his, rested beneath the bar, and guides it under your skirt and towards your dripping sex. He stiffens, inhaling sharply through his nose as he feels the way the wet fabric clings to the lips of your pussy. You bring your lips to the shell of his ear and drop your voice to make it more deep and velvety — more enticing. “She’s already wet.”
You drop his hand and hop off the barstool and onto wobbly legs, your right hand looping your crossbody over your shoulder, and before your leg even brushes past his, his hand snaps out and wraps around your wrist, dwarfing it in his grasp.
Without another word, he tugs you behind him, past your table of friends, all too loud and too drunk celebrating the end of another work week to notice the two of you sauntering by. He drags you down the dimly lit hall, and you’re biting your bottom lip, containing the smile that threatens to spread across your face as he shoves you into the bathroom.
Within seconds, he’s on you, pressing into you so your back slams into the tethered wooden door. Your hands find his hair, tangling your fingers in the strands streaked with gray.
And with his mouth flush with yours, the taste of whiskey and cheap cigars is warm on your tastebuds, and you cannot get enough of it. You've dreamt of what he'd taste like for so long, and it's everything you've ever wanted. His tongue is heavy and hot as he pushes it into your mouth, swirling it around and cutting across your gums, leaving no inch of your mouth uncharted. It’s all rushed and sloppy and hungry, and very quickly does it become clear to you that he’s wanted this — wanted you, just as much as you had from the very beginning.
Somewhere in the heady haze, you manage to remove your left hand from his dark curls, drifting it south behind your back to slide the greasy lock shut behind you, sealing your fate.
The sound of the lock clicking in place has Joel maneuvering you towards the sink, your heels scraping against the tile as the both of you drift backwards, tongues still intertwined.
Your hands fumble with his belt, and at the same time, your mouth skates down his neck, tongue darting out and lapping at the inked skin there. You hum at the taste of warm, salty sweat. As you try to drag the leather out from his silver buckle, you move to drop to your knees. You don’t even get halfway before he’s reaching for your wrists, pulling you back up to stand. “‘S much as I’d like that kiddo, I've been waitin’ too long to get inside this cunt,” he says bluntly, and then he’s taking a step forward, trapping you against the cold ceramic. “If m’gonna come, s'gonna be inside o' her.”
Your stomach flips at his words, and you can’t deny that the use of that word again makes you want to drop to your knees for him twofold. Instead, Joel drops to one of his, grunting as his denim-clad knee hits the cold tile, and it’s what he does next that manages to shatter all essence of confidence you had tonight.
Joel flicks up your skirt with one large hand while the other grips the back of one of your thighs, and one of your hands finds one of his shoulders, fingers already clinging onto him for dear life as you try to anchor yourself. You’re throbbing for him as his hand drifts north to cup your sex through your damp panties; he tears his gaze away to peer up at you. “How many dicks has this pussy taken since my son?”
His words strike you hard, and your blood runs as cold as ice. Your breath kicks out of your lungs. That was the last thing you expected him to say. Despite the fact Joel’s eyes often lingered and his breath often wavered in your presence, he always managed to compose himself. You never imagined he'd act on those impulses.
“I–I don’t–” you blink a few times, your brain malfunctioning, trying to find the words.
“How many,” he taunts, his fingers prod at your lace-covered slit, his thumb applying pressure to your clit through your underwear.
“I– I don’t know. I can’t remember,” you whisper.
Joel sniggers. “I figured. She’s just a little pocket pussy for us, ain’t she?” A shiver runs up your spine, and he watches you, hazel eyes glimmering in the soft yellow glow of the bathroom, gauging your reaction for a tell, a tick, something, that’ll give him a reason to stop. When you don’t, his head dips down between your thighs, and his strong nose presses up against the damp stain on the front of your skimpy black thong, which was doing a rather poor job of covering your cunt. His eyes close slowly, and he inhales. Long and hard, so hard you can feel his nostrils contracting against you as he breathes in your scent. And it’s not your fault a measly whimper spills from your lips when he does so.
“This all for me now?” He coaxes, his fingers strumming up and down your slit through the lace. Words fail you as you look down and find his eyes already on yours. You nod once for him.
“Words, darlin’,” his voice dark, thick fingers shifting your panties aside, exposing you to the cold air and spreading your soft folds apart, toying with your wetness.
Oh fuck, sneaks past your lips in a whisper, and one of your arms snaps out behind you, hand wrapping around the edge of the sink.
He tilts his head up, and your eyes fixate on his middle finger that reads, clutch, as the tip pokes into your aching hole. "S’this what you wanted? You oughta ask for it, pretty girl.”
“I want you. Fuck– I want you to fuck me, Joel.” You choke out.
“Attagirl,” he starts, knees cracking as he stands. “Bend over ‘n let me see her up close this time,” he says with a smirk.
You obey, and turn to drop your purse beside the sink before placing your hands on the wet countertop. But your eyes don’t find your own reflection in the mirror. Instead, they fall on Joel’s movements behind you and gulp down the near-pathetic excitement and nerves sizzling over you. Joel’s too entranced by the sight before him to pick up how your breath hitches in your throat when his calloused hands push your skirt over the curve of your ass and up to your waist. His sly smirk kicks into a low chuckle as he catches sight of your tattoo on your left ass cheek that reads, daddy’s girl.
You go perfectly still, and a firm hand between your shoulders pushes you forward, your upper body now parallel to the dark countertop. Your heartbeat thrums loudly in your ears, but you can still hear the low whistle he sings from behind you. And then–
“Jesus,” he breathes as he pauses and marvels at you, his gaze shifting up and down your form, goosebumps erupting across your skin as the knuckle of his index finger traces down the small of your back, cold metal from the ring on his pinkie grazes the meat of your ass by happenstance. “Pretty little thing, ain’t ya?”
And it’s almost like he can’t believe he’s here — with you, thirty years his junior, and his son’s ex-girlfriend, in a bar bathroom, about to ruin not only you but every other woman for himself for the rest of his life.
The liquid courage must’ve kicked into overdrive because you don’t know what compels you to do it, but before you can stop yourself, you call out his name–
“Joel.”
His dark eyes flit upwards to meet yours in the mirror.
“You gonna stand there and stare all night, or you gonna fill her up?” But the tone of your voice doesn’t make it sound at all like a question, and you don’t mean it to be.
That seems to pull him back. He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Fuckin’ Christ, I didn’t think you’d be this filthy.”
His reaction manages to bring back your confidence, and your lips curl in turn.
Joel doesn’t waste anymore time. You feel the rough drag of denim against the back of your thighs and hear the metallic clang of his belt and the buzz of his zipper as he frees himself from the confines of his jeans. When he hooks a thick finger underneath your panties, tugging them to the side and over one cheek, you can’t help but clench, and Joel definitely doesn’t miss it.
He tuts. “Needy little thing too,” he grips his length, thick and heavy in his hand, and lines up the blunt cockhead with your throbbing hole; it winks at him. “Tiny hole’s begging for me to fuck her, ain’t she? Look at her flirtin’ with me,” Joel gloats.
And the sane part of you wants to cringe at that, but your cunt betrays you and clenches around terrible emptiness again. Joel doesn’t wait for you to respond; his eyes flicker back down to your hole, pushing the wide head of his cock inside, and that spark from earlier ignites.
“Oh, Christ,” he exhales, his jaw falling loose and eyes going hooded as he enters your warm, wet cunt. You gasp as your own eyes fall shut at the stretch, your face twisting upwards at the sharp sting. You didn’t get to look at it before, but you can feel him. He’s big. Bigger than anything you’ve ever had, and for a second you’re not quite sure he’ll be able to fit. But Joel being Joel means he’s a stubborn bastard. He makes it fit. He pushes himself in, in, in, and you whine, and he groans as your pussy wraps perfectly around every inch of his thick length, sinking in like a dream.
He bottoms out inside your cunt, his tip kissing your cervix, and you’re gripping the edge of the sink so tight that if it weren’t for Joel fucking you, you’d be worried if your knuckles would break the skin. “Fuck, that’s good,” he breathes, ragged and hard.
And it is. He feels so good. Stretching your cunt out and carving a place for himself after all this time. All the wanting and pining. Shared glances and stolen moments that you believed to be over the moment you broke up with that bastard of a son have finally led you here with him.
“Daddy,” pours from your lips involuntarily. Your eyes snap wide open, and you freeze. Joel draws his hips back, cock pulling out from your gaping hole and catching onto it’s head, and before you can scramble your brain for a pathetic excuse of an apology, his lips curl into a snarl, and he slams his hips forward, cock ramming into you full throttle. The force of his thrust so hard, your body jolts forward, and your pelvis collides with the sink.
He doesn’t give you time to recover; Joel sets a fast, unforgiving pace, and with every strong, expert roll of his hips, the edges of your vision begin to blur. And it doesn’t matter how fast he bucks into you; the size of his cock never fails to fill you up to the hilt on every long, punishing stroke. He’s fucking loving it. And so are you. Letting him use you and yanking you back onto his cock by the thin material of your thong, hips snapping back into his like a rubber band. The air quickly fills with delicious wet sounds of your skin slapping against his, your moans and his, and the sharp clink, clink, clink, of metal rattling against you as the movement of your bodies colliding increases.
“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he says, voice rough with arousal. “Been dreamin’ of this pussy since the first time I laid eyes on ya,” he pants, eyes never leaving where the two of you are connected.
Desperate whimpers and breathy moans spill from your lips, his left hand bruising on your hip. “Caught a glimpse of that pretty young pussy under your skirt. Couldn’t get it out of my damn head. I thought about you n’ fucked my fist every night to that image of you in your slutty little skirt. Too fuckin’ short to cover anything.” Your cunt drools with slick with every word that spills from him; you can feel it on the tops of your inner thighs. The wet suction of your cunt around his cock getting louder and louder and louder. It’s borderline pornographic.
His voice cuts through the lewd sounds. “Some nights I heard those sweet sounds you made–fucked my fist then too. Were you fakin’ it, baby? Huh. Were you fakin’ it with him? My son ever fuck you this good?” He rambles, grip smarting your flesh.
Your stomach jolts. Scratch that. That’s the last thing you expected him to say. If your ex-boyfriend’s father fucking you wasn’t going to send you spiraling, then him bringing up his own son while he fucks you dumb certainly will.
Your mind is abuzz; your brain has gone completely blank. There’s no way you could form a proper word in response, even if you tried. There isn’t a single thought inside your head. It’s too much. Too many things are happening at once. For one, he’s never been this talkative; you were lucky if you got two sentences out of him a year ago. And now he’s asking you if his son fucks as good as he does.
You don’t answer. You can’t. And he’s not expecting you to. All you can do is whimper and moan while he fucks you with abandon, the way you should have been fucked all those times by his son.
“You don’t gotta answer. I know he didn’t. That boy didn’t know what was good for him if it hit him til he was blue in the face.” And you moan in agreement, still not able to think of a response while his tip jabs at your most sensitive spot.
“S’okay, you were made to take my cock,” he grits, his ringed finger digging into your skin by the unrelenting grip on your waist. “Made to take mine, not his. Tell me, my cock bigger than his?”
“Daddy–” you gasp, your cunt flutters around him, and Joel laughs a little at you, a low mocking sound that fuels the fire roiling low in your belly.
“Course it is,” he murmurs. “You were made for me. So fuckin’ pretty n’ perfect n’ – fuck – so goddamn tight. Tighter than a fleshlight, baby.” He hisses in between sharp thrusts.
“N-” you choke on your words, fresh tears pricking your eyes by the force of him fucking you so hard.
He clicks his tongue. “You don’t like that, baby? You tellin’ me if I say it again, she won’t fuckin’ squeeze the hell outta me?”
Your cunt answers for you, giving him exactly what he wants and fluttering around him in response.
“S’okay, you can like it. You oughta. This sloppy cunt’s gonna be my new cocksleeve. Gonna blow my load in ya, pump you so full o’me.”
You squeeze painfully tight around him again and bite your bottom lip to muffle the obscene, broken moan that escapes you. You can’t help but picture what Joel looks like thrusting himself into the toy. Was he using it that night? When you heard him coming with a groan of your name, was he pretending to paint your cunt instead of the inside of faux flesh? Or did he pull out and imagine covering your face in his cum? Your back arches as you push yourself up by the heels of your palms on the ceramic, your head topples back onto your neck, eyes rolling back into your skull, the walls of your cunt tensing at the thought.
His fingers unhook themselves from your panties and his hand finds the back of your skull, and with a firm grip, he angles your head, so you are face to face with your own depraved reflection. “Look how fuckin’ sexy you look takin’ me,” he growls.
And you do; your vision refocuses on the wrecked girl in the mirror: hair wild yet pulled back by Joel’s tight fist, lipstick stained around your swollen lips, mascara smudged by wet tears at the corners of your eyes, temples glistening with beads of sweat as you’re split wide open, perfectly filled to the brim by your ex-boyfriend’s father’s cock.
Joel’s fist tightens on your makeshift ponytail, pulling you back into him, and with your back now pressed flush to his chest, he brings his lips to your ear, his breath hot against your skin, eyes watching each other in the mirror. “You’ve got a velvet cunt, kiddo, s’damn shame my son didn’t know what to do with it.”
You squeak, your body jostling and rolling with pleasure on every shift forward, the edge of the countertop bruising your hip bones. You’re blissfully unaware of the spit drooling from your lips and dripping all over the sink faucet until Joel points it out.
“Look at you, wanted it so bad you’re fuckin’ droolin’ f’me, naughty girl,” he pants, hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. “Wanted me to use you like this, huh?”
“Mmm,” you mewl in response, everything beneath your navel tenses while his cock grazes the opening of your cervix on each harsh thrust.
He tuts. “Aww, poor baby, you were all talk before. But you can’t talk back now, huh? You all cock dumb, s’that it? Daddy, fuckin’ ya stupid?”
"So – good – Daddy,” you force a choked moan. Your cunt clamps down around him, and it burns, flames running wild, scratching away at your nerves as the fat head of his cock brushes against your g-spot again. As if he can feel it too, the snap of his hips grows more desperate. Faster. Harder. Deeper.
“Keep doin’ that, doin’ so good for me, kiddo. Just a little more, give it to me, come on daddy’s cock, c’mon,” he rasps. Your stomach twists and your chest tightens, his cock hitting you so deep each time his hips swing, and the weight of his balls slapping wetly against your clit has you hurtling full speed towards your release.
“Daddy – oh f– fuck,” your voice all broken and hoarse. Your entire body goes painfully tight, thighs quivering, and something deep within you snaps. Your eyes screw shut as the energy thrums through your blood. Your mind is a dizzying blur, white light streaking behind your eyelids, and there’s a low ringing in your ears as your orgasm fully engulfs you.
"Yeah, that’s it. That’s it, kiddo, there you go, let her soak me,” Joel praises as he fucks you through your high, cunt throbbing while your hips move lazily back and forth on him.
As your orgasm settles, your body goes limp, and your head begins to dip, but Joel tightens his grip on you, shifting your body like a ragdoll until you’re on your tiptoes, the perfect angle for him as he fucks relentlessly into you.
And with the blissed-out daze of the afterglow and the roaring music from the otherside of the bathroom door getting louder, you can just barely make out Joel’s low rambles of obscenities — almost like he’s mumbling to himself — and the quick, wet, smack, smack, smack of his hips against the plush of your ass as he pummels your cunt, desperate for release — as if his life depends on coming inside you.
He grunts and through bleary eyes, you watch him through the mirror. He looks wrecked as he chases after his high. He must feel your eyes on him because then his eyes lock with yours in the mirror, and your cunt squeezes him unconsciously. That sends him overboard. His movements become sloppy, and you feel him twitch inside you. His jaw slackens, his eyes pinching shut while his head lulls back, and a breathless chant of, oh shit, fuck that’s it, fuck, escapes him as he comes undone.
His hands clamp, hips finally stuttering, a deep groan slipping past his lips, and then you feel the heat spreading inside you as thick spurts of his seed spill deep inside your cunt. His body falls forward over yours, his sweaty forehead falls into your shoulders, and you let him stay there as his cock continues to pulse, hips lazily rutting into you and pumping you full of his load. Your spent cunt spasms around his throbbing cock, and your wet and his, gathers at the base of his girth and trickles down his balls.
His hips finally come to a stop, but he doesn’t pull out. Instead, his hand drops from your hair and begins rummaging through your purse. It only takes him a few seconds to find what he’s looking for. Your pen. You watch through watery lashes as he pops the cap with his thumb and brings the tip to the small of your back; your body flinches at the feeling of the cold tip.
As the ball of the pen drags and tugs across at your skin, for a brief moment you try to surmise what he’s writing, but it takes him too long, and the intensity of your orgasm finally catches up with you. You drop your head on your hand and wait for him to finish whatever the hell he’s drawing on your skin.
You feel his body shift behind you again, but it’s not until you hear the familiar sound of a low click that has you snapping your head up to the mirror.
Joel Miller has his phone in his hands.
And he’s not just doing anything with it. He’s not scrolling through it. He’s not opening up the contacts app. He’s not typing on it.
You catch a bright white flash in the mirror. He’s taking pictures of you. But not just of you. He’s taking pictures of your wasted cunt still plugged full of his cock.
And for some reason — you don’t move. You don’t stop him. You don’t turn around and snatch the phone from his grasp and call him a dirty old dog. You stay perfectly still, and you let him do what he wants. Letting him take a series of pictures.
But it’s the last few that have his lips curling into a smirk, and he begins mumbling under his breath, gawking at the mess he made of you.
With his phone poised in his right hand, his left drops to your left ass cheek, his fingers splay across your flesh, pulling your cheek back, and the shutter sound goes off. "Fuck, she’s so pretty like this.”
Heat blooms in your chest. No one’s ever made you feel like this. But there’s no room for shame when he makes you feel this warm and beautiful... and so fucking sexy.
And then it hits you.
No one’s ever made you feel like this. There’s a sudden pang in your heart, tears stinging in your eyes. You’ve always known it. But you never admitted it because it never mattered. How could it? When you’ve never had someone who made you feel worth their time. How could you know what you were missing out on if you’ve never had it to begin with?
Your head tips back between your shoulders, forcing the tears back into your skull, and to keep them at bay, you redirect your attention on Joel; watch him as he presses his hips flush to your ass so he’s filled you to the hilt. With your body still trembling, you wince and close your eyes in overstimulation. Your body sags forward on the cold surface, melting into submission.
You hear a series of shutters coupled with Joel’s mutters of, Jesus, look at her, the prettiest little pussy, look at this messy little hole swallowin’ up my cock, while you feel his hand moving along the small of your back, no doubt getting different angles of the place where the two of you become one.
It feels like hours have passed by when Joel seems to have gotten his fill. One of his hands finds your hip again; you shiver and gasp in unison as he slowly slips himself out with a wet squelch. He pumped you so full of his release that you already feel it beginning to trickle out. You didn’t think there’d be that much of it for a man his age.
When his cockhead fully slides out from your hole, you have to fight the urge to whine at the loss of it — of him. But it’s what he does next that stops you from reveling in that; his hand quickly reaches down between your bodies, and two thick fingers catch the cum dripping out of you and push it back inside. You whimper tiredly.
You stay bent over the sink, and suddenly, for a very brief moment, you feel the heavy weight of his cock slap wetly against your left ass cheek, and for the last time, the camera shutters.
He quickly pockets his phone, and then he’s pulling your panties over the ache between your thighs, and his hands tentatively pull the skirt back down over your ass, smoothing out the rumpled fabric. You can hear the low rustling behind you — the buzz of his zipper and the clang of his belt buckle, tucking himself back into his pants.
And then Joel Miller surprises you again. He leans forward over you and places a chaste kiss to your clothed shoulder before his hands are on you, gently tugging your body upright and turning you around to face him as he murmurs a low, Let me look at ya.
His eyes scan over your face, grinning immensely, like he can’t help being proud of himself for ruining you. And you smile bashfully in tandem as you bring a weak hand up to your face. Joel shoos your hand away and rubs his thumb under your eyes, gently wiping away your tears and smeared mascara, then doing the same to the smudged lipstick at the corners of your mouth.
He’s always been rather soft with you, but it’s a stark contrast in comparison to his earlier behavior; it almost gives you whiplash thinking about it. How he fucked you so full you could feel him in your chest, the stream of profanities he cursed under his breath, moaning the dirtiest things — comparing himself to his son while inside you, taking filthy pictures as evidence of what the two of you have done together, then cleaning you up like it’s second nature to him. All of it was filthy. He’s filthy. But there was always a softness to him, and there’s no doubt about it in this moment.
You take the opportunity to mirror him and caress away the lipstick that stained his lips from your kiss, you smile and he sighs at the contact. His thumb swiftly pads over your bottom lip, his gaze lands on your lips, a sort of hesitance, perhaps deciding if he wants to kiss you again. Then, his thumb catches on your plush bottom lip. Joel’s lips twitch, his eyes go dark as he drags the flesh of your bottom lip down, eyeing something he knows he almost missed. He scoffs slightly and shakes his head in near-disbelief. You smirk knowing exactly what he’s reacting to.
His entire face blossoms with cherry red as he does another once over on the black ink inside your mouth.
“Angel, my ass,” he mutters under his breath before wetting his lips. Already hungry for more.
He tilts your chin upwards and leans forward to kiss you. It’s softer, slower this time, but of course, he still nips gently at your bottom lip, and at the same time, he slips his free hand down between the two of you once more. It moves beneath the hem of your skirt, fingers shoving your panties to the side, the pulp of his middle finger pushing through your puffy folds and into your dripping hole, until the black ink that reads, brake, is entirely sheathed inside your worn cunt, making sure his come stays where it belongs. You whimper against his lips, bucking into his hand.
“Keep that in there, f’me,” he mutters, his hot breath fanning over your lips. “Want you thinkin’ o’me when it drips outta ya tonight.”
You whine faintly when Joel removes his hand. He brings it up to his face, and his tongue darts out to glide across the tip of his digit, licking his finger clean of your wet and his, all while keeping his eyes on yours the whole time.
There’s a long beat of silence between you, and then he drops his hand, pulling away. Your heart falls, already missing the warmth emanating from his touch.
“We oughta get back before people start looking for us,” he murmurs as he steps back. You smile softly and nod. You’re not sure you’ll see him again. And you don’t have the heart to ask him, nor do you have the strength to handle it if he rejects your offer. You have nothing else to give.
You love how he made you feel, but your chest twinges — one that twists deep. And no matter how much you try to quell that deep-seated fear, it never truly leaves you. A little voice in the back of your mind that repeats on a loop like a broken record, telling you: He’ll break your heart. They all do. But he can’t hurt you if you don’t let him. You resist the urge to turn and run. And instead, you turn to glance back in the mirror, sure to tame your disheveled appearance, giving Joel a chance to leave before you, slipping back into someone from your past.
He makes his way to the door, sliding the lock open; his hand curls around the handle but pauses before pulling it open. He turns to face you. “You okay?” he asks.
It shocks you. It’s more than his son ever did. Certainly means more to you after he’d ask, Was it good, after coming in you before you even got started. Everything Joel did tonight is more than his son ever did; asking you questions all night and listening attentively while you answered them — whether it was with the hope of fucking you or not — doesn't matter. You fought tooth and nail for a sliver of his son’s attention, but with Joel, he just fucking gave it to you.
You do your best to ignore that gnawing feeling of fear, clawing its way up your chest by the only way you know how; you press your lips to Joel’s, pushing your tongue into his awaiting mouth, and licking along the rim of his teeth. A strong hand curls around your jaw, fighting for dominance over the kiss, but you don’t let him for long, though. Reluctantly, you pry yourself off him, but not before Joel’s teeth softly graze your earlobe, nipping the flesh there.
You flash him a quick smile, looping the strap of your purse over your shoulder. “Perfect.”
He smiles softly at that, eyes dancing across your face. “Yeah,” he whispers and moves to the side, letting you step out first and following you out.
You head straight to the booth where your group of four awaits you, but not before peering over your shoulder and seeing Joel stalk towards his crew. You smile to yourself and tuck a lock of hair behind your ear as you approach your friends. As you shimmy in beside one of them, they ask where you were, and their brows pinch when you mumble, I was feeling a little dizzy. Which isn’t a total lie, but no one presses you for more, and you’re glad they don’t.
It’s not until your friends start collecting their belongings and announce they want to check out the new bar a few blocks down the street when you feel the weight of tonight’s actions sinking into you. You’re about ready to call it a night; your eyes are heavy, your brain is still fuzzy, and your body still has not recovered from Joel railing you.
You mull over sitting in the booth until the car you plan to order shows up to take you home. But the thought of waiting around in Joel’s presence makes your chest tighten. You don’t want to find out if he’ll be like the rest of them. Something to scratch an itch, and then wiping you from memory. That urge to flee loops back, and your legs force you to stand.
Collectively, you amble through the bar, still bubbling with energy, and as you make your way to the exit, you can feel the heat of a stare on you. You don’t need to turn to know who it is; his broad form ghosts along the edges of your periphery.
You walk against that pull you feel towards him, ache festering, skin burning, and bones grating with every heavy step, your eyes locked on the door like a missile to a target, not letting your eyes wander over to his booth, trying to keep what’s left of your dignity. Resisting. Resisting. Resisting.
Lucas steps out first, holding the door open for another group of younger twenty-somethings as they saunter into the bar. While you hang back, you quickly mumble over your shoulder to Nell that you’re thinking of heading home. Worry cuts across her face, and she extends an offer, At least let me drive you home, hun.
Your answer is cut off by the chime of your phone in your purse. You still and fumble for it and see a message from Mr. Miller. You had forgotten you never deleted his number.
Holding your phone close to your chest, cautiously away from your friend’s curious eyes, you click on the notification.
He’d sent you two of the pictures he happily took at the top of the hour with a message that reads, Look damn sexy on my cock, kiddo.
Your mouth falls open in a gasp, and pride swells in your chest as you glance at the first picture: Joel plugging your used cunt full of his length, his graying pubic hairs drenched and the base of his shaft gleaming with a white ring of creamy release. Your eyes flit upwards, and you finally get a chance to read the dark permanent lines he’d written on your skin.
Joel had crossed out the latter half of your tattoo on your ass cheek. It now reads, daddy’s fleshlight, in sloppy penmanship. With his grip porcelain white, the cross on his thumb makes an appearance as his digit digs into your hip at the corner of your tattoo. Your eyes drift further north, and above the globe of your ass, the small of your back reads, mine.
Your thumb swipes across the screen to the second picture. With his cock poised in his hand, he had pressed the swollen mushroom head, only a hairsbreadth beneath the ink on the plush flesh of your ass — black ink shiny with a pearly film, he had smeared it in your mixed juices. Your cunt clenches at the images — at his absence, missing the warm, thick stretch of him. And suddenly, you feel his cum beginning to dribble out of you and pool into the gusset of your already ruined thong.
When you don’t answer. The message bubble appears.
A beat, then two, and then—
There’s a place for you here.
You swallow down the twinge, the ache, press your thighs shut around emptiness, and feel another slight trickle escape your lower lips when your pussy releases more of his cum. You lock your phone and look back up at Nell in front of you. You feign nonchalance and wave her off, telling her you can’t go home just yet. Tell her that you received a few more requests from your boss and you, Don’t wanna take work home.
She asks how you’ll get home, you lie, and swiftly mention that you just saw Mr. Miller across the bar and that he’ll drive you home. Another tiny white lie. Your place is a solid halfway point from the bar to his house. And when she asks if you’re sure you’ll be okay alone, her hand gently squeezing your arm, brows furrowed with worry, bless her heart, your gaze follows that pull like a magnet and lands on Joel.
He’s already watching you.
Your eyes lock with his, one hand resting to the side while the other tips the glass he’d been nursing towards you, winking as he takes a short sip of amber liquid.
And there’s no pang in your chest. No urge to flee. Just the warmth of his gaze that in any second now will radiate through his touch, turning your bones to ash.
You flash Nell a smile. Yeah…You’ll be fine.
#wa-fucking-zoo bitch#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#tlou fic#the last of us fanfiction#tw daddy kink#tw dubcon#noelle's workshop
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Say what you will about Van Helsing 2004; hate it, love it, be indifferent, But the All-Hallow's masquerade ball went sooooo hard and it had zero right to do so! It's a fun, campy, monster mash movie with wonderfully dated ( and expensive) cgi and non-stop action meant to be a popcorn flick one takes out to watch around spooky season. And it has this* chef's kiss* GORGEOUS 6 minute sequence plopped arbitrarily in the second act, which unexpectedly surpasses nearly every other ball in the last 30+ years of film( notable exception being the Cinderella 2015 ball) for literally no reason other than to be dramatic af.
Like feast your eyes on this Gothic masterpiece!!! Who doesn't want to immediately live in this picture?!??
They used those candles with oil in them so that they would have real candles, real string orchestra( I believe), probably around 100 real life extras( something which is tragically absent in modern film), said extras are all in beautiful fully decked-out costumes( which are in luxuriously dark colours, but nearly no fully black, another thing you cannot say for much modern cinema), REAL CIRQUE DU SOLEIL PERFORMERS for all the acrobatics!!!! Hell, instead of filming in a sound stage, where they could control the reverb and the acoustics and the size of the set and the bloody lighting ( they apparently had a heck of a time emulating the firelight for this sequence) and the temperature( it's very cold in stone churches!) better, they filmed in a Baroque church in Prague! As I said, peak dramatic splendour, jfc...
Think about that a second...They filmed a vampire masquerade in a Baroque Catholic Church( St. Nicholas' in Lesser Town, if you were curious) with amazing over-the-top acoustics and marble statues and real, tiled floors and marble pillars and a choir loft which they very much utilized, covered the pipe organ and the altar with a grand brocade curtain so it wouldn't be so obviously a, you know, a church! And there's a gold gilt elevated and canopied pulpit into which they put two vampire kiddies for, again, the sake of being dramatic.
And the costumes! They remind me of the 25th anniversary Phantom of the Opera Masquerade costumes. Same quality, like they're old, well-cared-for costumes pulled out of a warehouse, instead of fast industry churn-outs. With lots of trim and colour and masks and lace and feathers and..just...ugh.. they are all perfect! Just look at all the head pieces on the ladies and the hats on all the gentleman ( save Dracula of course) and the powdered wigs on the musicians. ANNNNDD! The dresses are historically correct!!!!!! It's the 80's bustle era! Nobody does the 80's bustle era in film anymore and it's a bummer. Oh and one other thing! Anna's ( and other women's) hair, at least here in the ball, is also historically accurate because it's all pinned up! None of those fucken modern beachwaves at a ball! Everybody's got updo's!
Gah, I swear, Dracula in his gold cloak really does things to me in this scene!
By the way, the acrobatics are bonkers in here for just background stuff!! Especially the random guys on unicycles and the dude playing the violin whilst standing on a ball...Like....WHAT?
Anyways, all this to say, that this masquerade ball feels sooo real and tangible and because of that it blows every other film out of the water, and no, I will not change my mind!!!!!
Here's a few more gifs, bcuz, why the hell not, this scene is sexy as fuu*ck?
Alright I need to go to bed now.
#van helsing#van helsing 2004#dracula#count dracula#cinderella 2015#I'm on a film rant#masquerade ball#vampire#vampire masquerade ball#practical effects#costumes#gorgeous gorgeous set#baroque church#count vladislaus dracula#cirque du soleil#WHY IS THIS SOOO GOOD????????#princess anna valerious#kate beckinsale#richard roxburgh#phantom of the opera 25th#very phantom of the opera-esque
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Let me show you
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘺𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘏𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦
𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: experienced!Heeseung x inexperiencedf!reader
𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 5.0k
𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: smut, fuckboy!Heeseung, swearing, reader in denial of her feelings for Hee, reader also kind of oblivious, Heeseung is DOWN BADDD, jealousy if you look close enough, Heeseung is still a sweatheart, pet names (baby, darling, etc.), (neck) kissing, grinding/dry humping, very slight restraints, boob sucking, hair pulling, teasing, big dick Heeseung, oral (m and f receiving), praise, face painting, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie, aftercare w gentleman!Heeseung, lmk if I missed anything
18+ 𝓜𝓝𝓓𝓘!!!
𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭
'She was soo good, y/n. I'm telling you if she even breathes in my direction I'd 100% fuck her again,' Heeseung shamelessy confesses to you. Heeseung and you have been friends since middle school and you're both now well into college. You've finally hit the age and stage where you openly talk about your sex lifes. Well... Heeseung's sex life.
It's not that you're an unattractive woman, in fact most of your female friends praise how amazing you look in every outfit, hype you up when you need it and all in all let you know you're very attractive.
Guys just haven't seemed to notice. Or at least, not many guys. You've been on a date or two, kissed a guy, even made out with someone, but that's it. You've never had sex, never given or received head, fuck you've never even touched a clothed penis.
Hearing all these stories from your friends kills your curious nature, '𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭? 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥?' It's so bad that it's come to the point you're considering asking Heeseung to show you. I mean, he's your friend, you trust him and there are no feelings involved. It'd be a teaching moment for you and just another night for Heeseung.
Eventually you always pushed away that thought. It was just a stupid idea you had when you were horny and you chose Heeseung because he's the most attractive out of all your male friends. The first time had to be with someone you were actually into. Still, for some reason you felt the need to make him aware of your... situation.
'Hey Hee,' You shyly start. 'Mmh?' He says as he's staring at his phone, probably looking through his texts to see who to hook up with next. 'Have you never noticed I don't share my sex stories?' He stops and looks at you, 'Yeah, but I assumed you just didn't feel comfortable sharing.' 'Actually... I, I'm a virgin.'
Heeseung drops his phone in response. His eyebrows are raised and eyes so wide he looks like a deer in headlights, 'What??' 'I know it's embarrassing! I just, UGH!' You scream before grabbing a pillow and screaming into it, not being able to bare the embarrasment and too scared to make eye contact with Heeseung again.
A gentle force takes away the pillow you use to hide your face, Heeseung's face replacing the darkness of the pillow. His eyes soft, empethatic. 'Y/n, are you serious?' 'Yes and it's embarrassing, I don't even know why I told you, just forget it,' You ramble. You only had thoughts of telling Heeseung, not actually expecting you to have the balls to say it, and most certainly not Heeseung getting so close to you after your confession.
It'd have been a lot easier if he had just laughed in your face, whether it was because he didn't believe it or because he can totally understand why. Him just being a couple centimeters away from you was not what you had expected. It switched something inside you. You saw him from a different perspective, literally.
You'd never saw him as anything but your friend. Heeseung who was kind, Heeseung who made fun of you, Heeseung who took care of you when you needed someone. You never read into it too much. Why would you? He never confessed his feelings to you and it seemed like he was thinking of the next woman to fuck whilst still laying in bed with the previous woman.
But now that he's so close, you can almost look into his soul. The playboy facade almost seems to fade right in front of your eyes. However you quickly push it away. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩.
He snaps you out of your thoughts when a hand lands on your cheek, 'Did you hear what I asked you?' You were so in your thoughts you didn't even notice Heeseung asking you a question. 'N-no, sorry.' With a smile, his beautiful smile, he asks again, 'Have you ever kissed before?' 'Oh god yes I have! I'm not 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 inexperienced!'
'Good, a pretty girl like you deserves appreciation.' Your cheeks flush, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺? Heeseung clearly sees your confusion and just laughs. 'You're just fucking with me! You fuckboys always say stupid shit like that!' You push him away, lowkey mad about the fact he'd play with your feelings in such an intimate moment.
Heeseung repositions himself next to you and you quickly grab a pillow to hug, both for you comfort and defense from Heeseung. 'I would never joke about that. Not when it comes to you.' Your head snaps to him, 'What the fuck is that supposed to mean?' 'Oh baby, please don't tell me you're that oblivious?' What??????
'You remember all those late nights where we would watch movies together freshman year of college because you felt homesick? God I can still remember all the songs in Mamma Mia.' 'What does that have to do with this?' 'Do you really think I'd do that with anyone else? I even cancelled bro nights with the boys to spend time with you.' 'But why are you in other women's bed every weekend?' You completely ignore the fact he basically confessed to liking you, only the other women he's been with occupy your mind.
'Because I've been waiting for you.' 'Heeseung what are you even SAYING right now?' You stand up, creating space between you two. Nothing is making sense right now. 'Y/n, I've had feelings for you since the day we met. Those feelings are still very strong, but I never dared telling you about them. I saw the way you were talking with other guys and just assumed you were hooking up, no strings attached with others and you just didn't feel comfortable telling me. So I did the same, but trust me, I wish it was you every time.'
The only thing you can do is throw your hands up to you head. Your mouth is hanging open but nothing is coming out. Everything is slowly starting to make sense. 'Why didn't you say anything?' You finally get out. All Heeseung does is stare at you. He studies your face, your body language, he's studying 𝘺𝘰𝘶. But not in a creepy way, but in a loving way. Like he's been waiting for this moment for so long and it's unfolding even better than he could have ever imagined.
'Heeseung, please talk!' You almost get frustrated, feeling tears in your eyes as you feel both confused, relieved and scared. He stands up, walks over to you and puts his hands on your waist. 'I'm sorry baby,' is all he says before he leans in to kiss you. Only he doesn't close the distance.
'Is this okay, darling?' You nearly melt into his touch as he moves one hand to your cheek and smiles. The kiss starts soft. Initially long and slow touches of your lips turn into more hungry motions as you both realise you're actually kissing each other and this isn't just a dream.
After years of yearning and denial, you're finally kissing.
And it feels good. Heeseung naturally takes the lead, licking your bottom lip as to ask for permission. You grant him that permission immediately, going in to grab his cheeks to prepare yourself for the lightheadedness he's going to give. Because if there's one thing you've learned about Heeseung's stories, it's that he knows how to kiss.
The kiss grows deeper. Heeseung pushes his lips into yours like he's a starved man. His tongue desperately searching for yours and once there's a steady, consistent rythm to your dancing tongues, something clicks in him.
Both his hands travel down to your ass and, without warning, lifts you up. A small shriek escapes out of your mouth ahead of you wrapping your legs around Heeseung. He leads the both of you back onto your bed. He very gently lays you on your back, as if you're made of marble and ready to crack at movement a little too harsh.
You wrap your arms around Heeseung's neck, letting him know you never want to change the scenery. Heeseung is so turned on by how beautiful you look under him, completely his and not wanting anything else that he's starting to moan in your mouth and slowly grind against your crotch. You push him slightly away, looking at him with large eyes, unsure of what to make of this situation.
Heeseung gets the hint and looks at you with concerned eyes, 'Is this too fast, baby?' You shake your head, gulping loudly. 'I've just never done more than making out,' you start, 'I've only kissed and made out with like 3 guys, never anything more.' 'Not even this?' He says as he presses his erection into your heat. You gasp and that's enough confirmation for Heeseung.
'Are you okay with us doing this?' Sweet Heeseung, always making sure you're okay and comfortable ever since the beginning. You nod, 'I actually... kind of want you to be my first.' Noticing his confusion you continue, 'I've been thinking about, you know, this, a lot and if I had to choose someone to do it with, I'd choose you.'
The smile that slowly creeps up Heeseung's lips give you butterflies, and not just in your stomach. 'Really?' He asks in that attractive ass expression, his eyebrow raised, a light smirk and slight sparkly eyes. You nod shyly, biting your lip to prevent yourself from saying something any more stupid. 'Well, baby, I'll make sure you won't regret this.'
Before he can resume the intimate kiss, you still slightly push him away, looking at him with doe-eyes, 'Is this gonna change us?' 'I better fucking hope it will.' The kiss picks back up right where it left off, except that it feels more intimate.
Heeseung's hands start to roam your body, starting at your cheeks, slowly going down and eventually landing on your boobs. He can feel your perky nipples through your shirt and it's making his buldge grow even tighter. 'Off,' he demands and you comply, taking your shirt off swiftly, making your tits bounce.
Sounds of you two kissing has stopped because of Heeseung's newfound focus on your boobs and looking at them in admiration. You get a little timid, never having shown them to a boy before, but as you try to hug yourself to hide them, Heeseung quickly grabs your wrists and firmly press them above your head. 'Don't hide,' he snarls, 'you're too pretty to hide.'
A warm flush spreads over your already burning cheeks. All this praise, action and physical contact making you lightheaded 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰���𝘭𝘥'𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥. Your tomato-red face seems to go unnoticed by Heeseung who is too busy slowly feeling your right boob with one of his hands. Not soon after his hot, wet mouth attaching to your left boob.
The sudden contact makes you gasp and your back arches slighty. Heeseung smiles against your chest, loving every second. He sucks on your nipple and as he detaches from it, he faintly lifts your boob with his mouth and makes a pop sound as he releases it again, only for it to bounce back erotically. 'Fuck you're making me rock hard,' he says before promptly going in again.
This time he's making out with your right nipple. He's slowly releasing your hands and repositions his on your waist. Whilst his mouth is busy licking your tits, sucking loudly on your nipples and moaning inbetween your tits, he's slowly grinding against your still-clothed, but slicky wet pussy. 'Baby you feel so good,' breathy sighs escape his mouth, 'I bet you feel so tight.'
One of your hands travel to his hair and holds a harsh grab. You pull his face away from your boobs and see he already has a foggy expression from just your tits. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘵. Never in your years of friendship did you think you'd end up in your bed with your hot friend who looks like he's almost cumming in his pants from just touching your breasts.
As you're pulling him back up towards your lips, a string of moans escape Heeseung's swollen lips. 'What's wrong, Hee?' You ask him with fake concern. 'I need you so bad,' he whines, 'Need to feel your wet pussy tightening around my cock.' You smirk as you let your free hand graze over his body until it lands on his crotch.
You become aware of just how horny he must be. You slowly start to rub his hard-on. Heeseung is absolutely falling apart on top of you. Every brush of a touch feels overwhelming.
'Please keep touching me.' 'Yeah you like it when I do that?' 'Yes, Y/n, and don't fucking stop.' Deep sighs and low moans are exchanged before you signal for him to lay on his back. Heeseung catches on to what you're trying to do as you lift his shirt and unbuckle his pants with the sweetest expression on your face, 'You don't have to do this if you don't want to.' 'I want to, I really do. I've been waiting for so long to do this.' Your excitement alone makes his cock twitch dangerously hard.
Just because you're inexperienced and nervous, doesn't mean you aren't the usual tease towards Heeseung. Very slowly undo his belt and even do him the honour of taking the belt off of his pants. You throw it somewhere in your room, but Heeseung doesn't care what you did with it, he just needs to get his dick out of his restricting boxers. And he will let you know he doesn't like this slow pace.
'Fuck, Y/n, stop doing that and just take it off.' You giggle, but refuse his wish. As slowly as you possibly can you pull just his pants off of him. Heeseung throws his head back as he feels less and less restraint against his dripping cock.
The only piece of clothing remaining from exposing his dick are his boxers, but even with just that you can tell how big he is. Your mouth is slightly agape as you look up at Heeseung's face. When you make eye contact Heeseung's face turns into a big smirk. He gently caresses you cheek, 'You can take it, baby. I know you can.'
Once you've built up all the courage you can, you hook your fingers around his waistband and pull his boxers down. His dick escapes immediately with a soft slap as it hits Heeseung's stomach. His balls and length are twitching from the exposure. It's veiny, very veiny. His tip is a redish pink from how long he's been hard and its slightly covered in pre-cum. He's more lengthy than girthy, but it's still wide enough where you 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 you're gonna have trouble walking the next day.
So mesmerized by his cock, you're only making eye contact with it instead of looking at Heeseung's scrunched up face. After you've stripped him free from his boxers, you slowly start to touch him. First it's a finger to see his penis bounce, then you wrap your entire hand around him, hearing Heeseung take in a sharp breath.
Slow pumps follow, unconsiously leaving your mouth hang open a little and Heeseung doesn't think twice before putting his thumb in your mouth, 'Suck on it.' You start sucking on his thumb, warming up your tongue before taking him in your mouth in a different way. Your pumps start to speed up and you're including his tip into the pumps as well.
When you hit that sensitive spot at the back of his tip just right, the most beautiful moan escapes from Heeseung, 'Your mouth, baby.' 'You think I'm ready?' 'I know you are. You're such a good girl sucking my thumb and jerking me off.' You bite your lip before gradually coming closer to his tip.
You start by licking the top of his tip, looking him deep into his eyes to see how much effect you have on him. A groan escapes his mouth, signalling for you to take more of him, and so you do. You take his entire tip in your mouth and start to swirl your tongue around it, stopping at that same sensitive spot. Moving the flat part of your tongue up and down with still just his tip in your mouth.
'Oh my fucking god,' Heeseung whimpers, 'You're sure you've never done this?' You keep bobbing your head at the same spot until you can feel his tip spasm. Without warning you start to take in 𝘢𝘭𝘭 of him. Surprised by the sudden move, Heeseung grabs your hair and unintentionally thrusts his hips upward, hitting the back of your throat, 'Shit, baby, I'm sorry.'
The words aren't reaching your ears because of the surprising pleasure you got from getting accidentally throatfucked. Something in your brain changes and you start to pick up the pace of your head movement. Heeseung is taken aback by it, but can't do anything about it since you make him feel too good.
Taking him all the way, at a quick tempo and not being used to this length has you gaggingly shamelessly. Saliva is dripping down your chin and tears are starting to form in your eyes. However you ignore all of those things. Seeing just how good you're making Heeseung feel makes you want to go harder, faster, deeper. You want him so deep in your throat, you don't even care if you get a collapsed lung.
Whilst your mouth is bouncing of his rock hard cock, you grab his balls. Massage them lightly and occasionally giving them a lick or slight sucking. 'Right there, darling. Aah shit ah,' is all Heeseung can moan. His eyes strictly on you, but his mind so far away, he's not even sure you're actually doing this to him.
'Fuck I'm gonna cum.' He groans, head thrown back, preparing for the load he's about to release. You're not sure what to do and whether Heeseung likes shooting everything down your throat or painting your face, so you keep your mouth attached to him, sucking him off through his orgasm.
Very soon after you start to feel sharp loads shoot to the back of your throat. You try to not waste a drop of his cum, but fuck he's cumming a lot. When you think he's finally done you detach your mouth from his dick, a mewl escapes Heeseung's mouth by the sudden cold.
To your surprise, he was not done cumming. A few strands of his cum land right on your face, still painting your face. Once Heeseung is back on earth and looks at you he sees you trying to wipe away the remaining cum, 'Stop.' You stop in your tracks and Heeseung sits up straight right in front of you.
One of his hands reach towards your face and his thumb is gently cleaning the spots on your face you hadn't cleaned yet. 'Open your mouth.' You obey and Heeseung puts his thumb back into your mouth, 'Good girl, cleaning up the mess you made.' Heeseung is looking at you with so much fondness, loving the fact you're just as filthy as him.
Without you having much say, Heeseung grabs your waist and makes you switch positions. 'Now show me that pretty pussy,' is all he says before sliding off your bottoms. 'Fuck, Hee, please make me feel good.' 'Don't worry about that, darling,' he gives you a quick wink as he's pulling his top off.
His warm mouth connecting with your clit sends shivers down your spine. He takes his time as he starts licking it, making sure to keep his eyes on you to confirm you're feeling every single movement. The licking slowly starts to turn into sucking as one of his fingers is teasing the walls of your hole, loving the way it's clenching down on nothing.
'Hee, oh my god yes, put it inside.' Heeseung fulfils your wish and his long fingers enter your pussy. A gasp slips out of your mouth and you clench down on him. 'Aww, baby, already too much?' 'N-No! I just, ah shit-' It's mind-boggling just how much power he has with just one finger.
At a slow pace he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you, deeper with each time he puts his finger back in your cunt. 'Hee, oh fuck, yes!' Your words slurring the deeper he pumps into you. At some point he's still fucking you with just one finger and all you do is babble, producing more sounds than words. Heeseung fucking loves you like this, so he decides to add another finger to see how you'll react to that.
The second finger enters your already tight pussy and it sends your head spinning. You constrict so tightly around Heeseung, he almost thinks you're cumming, 'Holy shit, this is what just fingers do to you, dear?' 'O-Only- fuck shit- only yours,' you manage to get out.
With the biggest grin on his face he asks, 'Mmh your fingers don't have this effect?' You shake your head. 'Shit, baby, I guess we'll just have to do this more often,' he says before diving back in. This time he takes his fingers out of you and starts tongue-fucking you.
Two hands fly to his hair, trying to pull him away, 'Too much?' You nod. 'Wanna stop?' You shake your head. Heeseung snickers against your core. While he goes back to your hole, trying to push his tongue up to your sweet spot this time, his nose brushes against your clit.
The combination of stimulation has you close. Your cunt grips to Heeseung's tongue, your hands use his hair as support and your thighs start to shake violently. Heeseung continues eating you out even through you closing your legs. His head is now stuck between your inner thighs and dripping wet cunt.
If there's one place he wants to die, it's right here.
'S-shit- gonna cu-cum!' Is the last thing you yelp before a wave of ecstasy flows through you like you've never experienced before. 'Good girl, cum on my face,' Heeseung mumbles against your core whilst still riding you through your high.
'Are you okay, darling?' You nod, mind still in another place. 'Good. Are you ready for my cock now?' A finger enters your hole. Heeseung streches you out, making sure you can still take his girth. 'Your pussy certainly is.' You look at him, he's smirking wide, waiting for your verbal consent before rocking your world.
'Please be gentle,' you say as your mind slowly gets back to earth and realisation hits you that you're really about to lose your virginity to your hot friend, of whom you could only dream of fucking. 'Always, my pretty baby.'
An even darker red blush spreads your cheeks as you push yourself up a little more straight. Heeseung notices what you're trying to do and lifts you up, firm but tender. 'Are you comfortable?' 'Yeah, are you?' Your innocent, sweet, but still dazed eyes makes Heeseung's cock twitch so hard, he has to physically restrain himself from slamming his cock deep in your pussy right now.
'Y/n, baby, I'm always comfortable with you. If you're feeling any doubt, even if it's really small, tell me. We can do this another time if you're too worn down or are having d-' You interrupt his rambling by crashing your lips onto his.
'Fuck me, Heeseung. I need you.'
That's all Heeseung needs to hear. He lines himself up with your heat, teasing you by grinding against your fold, but not entering your gaping hole. 'Hee, stop playing, fuck me.' You say exasperated.
At a steady pace he slowly enters you. Both of you are gasping. Heeseung's cock larger inside of you than you expected. Heeseung on the other hand has to restrain and repeat to himself to take it slow. He sees how you're struggling taking even a fifth of him, so he can't just slam himself inside you.
After Heeseung has completely dissapeared inside of you, he stops, letting you adjust. 'You look so gorgeous right now.' Your hands shoot up to your face. You're so red you feel like your head is about to detonate. Heeseung caresses your head, smiling from ear to ear. 'Is my pretty girl ready for me to move?' You nod and Heeseung leisurely moves out of you.
Once out of you, he enters again, but this time filling you up a bit quicker. This continues until he's just short from jamming into you. 'You okay, dear?' 'Mmh.' Your face crunches up, hands now placed on Heeseung's back. He dips down to plant a kiss on your cheek, 'You're doing so good, taking me so good.'
'Hee, harder please.' Embarrassment smeared on your face as soon as the words slip out of your mouth. 'You want it harder?' He beams, 'Didn't see you as such a dirty girl, baby.' A moan comes out as Heeseung immediately ups the pressure.
His cock hitting you against your cervix, balls slapping against cunt and heavy breaths escaping Heeseung's mouth. He's such a mess, but he doesn't want to let you know. He doesn't want to let you know how much of an effect you have on him. He usually lasts rounds without cumming, but with you? God he grips the bedsheet beside your head so tight, his knuckles turn white, he's focusing more on not cumming than to pound inside you at a consistent rate.
But when your pussy clenches down hard on him due to hitting a mind-blowing spot inside you, he drops his head in your neck. He's biting his lips hard and grips your waist to stop you from creating more friction. 'Y/n, fuck you're gonna make me cum.' One of your hands glides to his hair. You pull his face up to look you in the eyes. You want to show him how good he's making you feel, since his dick makes you unable to make sentences.
'Hee, good, so fucking good.' 'You like it?' 'Uh-huh.' You bob your head fast. Heeseung's mouth falls open, he knows he's close. You can feel he's close too and you slam your lips together, kissing him fiercly.
Like a bomb, Heeseung explodes. Shots of hot cum hitting you deep in your pussy. Your tongues stop dancing as the only thing exchanging between you two are moans. The warm liquid inside you not only gives a mouth-watering sound, but makes everything feel extra sticky as Heeseung is slowly fucking the cum out of your pussy.
Heeseung pulls back, not just his mouth but his entire body. You don't want to stop. You wrap your legs around Heeseung's waist and your hands around his neck and passionately pull him back in, 'Not done yet, Hee.' Heeseung is surprised by your almost desperate attitude, but fucking loves it.
Sloppy thumps of his cock in your pussy continue. Heeseung ignores the overstimulation. How can he when you look so pretty and fucked out underneath him? So desperate for a climax, completely ignoring Heeseung's struggle to selfishly pursue the best orgasm you've ever had
Briskly, Heeseung repositions himself where he's not laying on top of you, but able to grab your thighs and fuck you hard. And so he does. He slams hard inside you, making sure he's hitting your G-spot. He rams in at a pace that has you gasping, crying and screaming all within 5 seconds. 'You like that, huh?' 'Yes! Heeseung yes!'
As your thighs start to shake and your cunt starts to clench down on him again, Heeseung knows you're gonna have an even better orgasm than before. From the overstimulation still lingering from your previous orgasm to the delicious moans coming from Heeseung's mouth, your whole body feels like it's gonna fall apart.
'Heeseung!' You scream in a high pitch as you're send over the edge. Everything collapses; your legs close tightly around Heeseung's body, your lower body moving up in the air before falling back in the mattress for your back to arch tall, pussy contracting Heeseung's cock so hard he can barely move as it's almost making him cum again, your eyes roll to the back of your head, mouth falling open with only moans and variations of Heeseung's naming falling from your lips, your hands latch on Heeseung's back and your nails digging deep into his skin, and sweat dripping down from every inch of your body.
Your head is pushed deep into the pillow with your neck strained. Once you've come back to your senses you see a proud Heeseung looking at you. His eyes shining and a smile sweet like candy. 'Knew my girl could do it.'
He slips out of you and quickly dissapears into the bathroom. Your head is still too hazy to comment something. Heeseung returns with a damp washcloth and starts cleaning you up. No words are exchanged as he cleans everything from you thighs to your face. He gently lifts you up in bridal style and sets you down on the chair at your desk. Before you can ask, Heeseung grabs a new set for everything for your bed.
When he's done he sighs, happy with himself. He grabs you a new pair of underwear and shirt and puts them on for you. You're amazed at how gentleman he is. Almost as if he can read your mind, Heeseung says, 'Only for my princess.'
Smiles are exchanged as he carries you back onto the, now freshly made, bed. You shyly close the distance between the two of you when Heeseung claims his spot next to you. Noticing your hesitation, he takes the initiative and places you on his chest. You hear his steady heartbeat in the comfortable cuddle as you both drift off to sleep.
𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝! <𝟑
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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you’re not sure if it’s normal for a ‘relationship’ like you and gojo’s to be so constant.
ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ contents! situationship!gojo, although it seems to be a little more than that, fluff! he’s a clingy baby ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i literally had to pull over at the side of this road to write this in my notes <3 childe is coming tomoz guys i swear !
“satoru, i have to leave eventually, i can’t stay here forever.” you sigh from where you’re wrapped in gojo’s, your… friend’s bed, his sheets, his shirt. you’re not sure how long you’ve been here, three? four days maybe, it’s like both of you are just ignoring that maybe this is a little more than what you’re trying to say it is.
“you leavin’ me cold? where’s your heart.” hes teasing you as he whines playfully, pouting from where he’s standing at the foot of his bed. he’s still shirtless from his shower— his snowy hair is wet, framing his features and you think it’s annoyingly unfair how low on his hips his sweatpants are resting. “bring back my sweet girl.”
he’s not sure how to tell you that he doesn’t remember the last time he had a full nights sleep before you’d started staying over.
“none of my stuff is here.” you try to reason but gojo’s so fast to send you a handsome sort of grin before he’s turning away from you momentarily. you watch him hum as he picks his slacks up from the floor, reaching into the side pocket to pull out his wallet before reaching so quickly for the sleek black card inside with a shrug.
“i’ll get you new stuff. see,” he tilts his head towards the card and you know he’s serious despite his smooth tone, the ridiculously luxury apartment you’re in right now and his usual expensive clothes was enough proof that he could, but that’s not what you meant.
“no, satoru, i’m serious. i need my clothes.” you sigh as you lean yourself back into the plush pillows beneath you, youre grumbling like you’re being held here against your will but you’ve still made no real effort to move from your place.
you feel the mattress at your feet dip as gojo pushes himself back onto the bed, his fingertips reaching to wrap gently around your calf as he crawls his way towards you. it’s incredibly intimate the way he looks up at you through his lashes, lifting your leg slightly until you feel his lips trace along the inside of ankle, leaving short—soft pecks in their wake.
his gaze remains on yours as he trails kisses up your skin, continuing until he’s high enough to let his chin rest on your stomach, long arms wrapping underneath your waist as he shoots you another smile. “oh? but you look so good already, sweet thing.”
you groan at that, “satoru! omg, i need an outfit. i cant just live in your stuff.” — as comfortable as it is.
“yeah yeah, i hear you. i can take you there, wait f’ you and bring you back.” gojo grumbles from where he’s hugging himself into you, bringing up one of his hands like he’s talking you through a plan as you watch his fingers wave around in the air with his words.
you sigh again, for what feels like the millionth time today, but you still let your fingers push their way through the damp roots of the man over you’s hair— a motion that earns you a quick kiss pressed through your shirt before he lets the silence linger comfortably.
you think this was probably a lot more than what you’re both trying to say it is.
“hm, so you wanna go on a date, ‘s that it?” gojo grumbles a few moments later, goading as he shoots you one of his cheekier smirks before he’s pushing himself up high enough to curl over you. but the playful jokes makes you feel suddenly warm as you look up at him— trying so hard to retain the frown on your features despite the way his crystalline gaze makes you want to melt into a puddle.
“you’re so annoying.” you try to push him away but he doesn’t budge as he chuckles, leaning down to press his face ticklishly into the crook of your neck as he pokes playfully at the sides of your waist— just enough to kick start a laughing fit. “‘toru! i swear—“
“oh? i see how it is. why’re you mad?” you can barely breathe as gojo presses you into the mattress beneath you— twitching and wriggling underneath his huge body as he continues to press into your ticklish spots.
“s-stop it! i’m not mad.”
“oh yeah? well i haven’t done anything afterall! you said you wanted an outfit, don’t go all shy on me now~” he’s deliberately accompanying each touch with an onslaught of kisses along the crook of your neck that make you shudder.
“satoru! oh my god, i’m gonna kill you.” you gasp as you kick your legs, giggling uncontrollably until you feel him cease suddenly and drop himself back on top of you with a huff.
“oh, scary! you said it, sweet girl. you fallin’ for me? i knew it! it can’t be helped, i’ll be happy to take you out if you ask nicely.”
gojo’s lips rest against your jawline as he speaks this time; smooth as honey while his hands push their way underneath the hem of your—his shirt. his fingers rest gently at your waist before he begins tracing something messily, probably something similar to a heart if you were to focus on it a little more.
you don’t answer him this time, like you’ve admitted defeat as your arms wrap around him— letting him melt into you a little longer before he’s pushing himself up to press a kiss against your cheek, then your lips when you turn around to face him.
“hm, that’s too bad. i kinda wanted to keep you locked away in here for a little while longer. oh well.” gojo smirks as he tries to feign disappointed, pinching between his brows before he’s shooting you a wink and leaning in for another kiss. his lips linger a little longer this time, tongue coming out to tease along your lower lip before he pulls away suddenly a few moments later— leaving you pouty and all of a sudden kiss starved.
you watch him fumble around for a little bit, sorting through the clothes that you both had peeled off in such a rush the night before. you give him a confused look when he bends over; rising back up as he shakes his car keys at you with another one of his signature grins.
“aw, don’t look at me like that. come on, we got somewhere to be, right? wear somethin’ nice f’ me.”
© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x you
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