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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 !
- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader
you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut
note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!
credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!
next. the crown of diamonds | long live the empire
general masterlist | series masterlist
“I accept the divorce.”
Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towards— it was now in shambles and tatters.
You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperor’s blatant request of separation.
“My god... how can this be!?”
“Your Majesty! Please reconsider!”
Emperor Zen’in Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husband—and companion for more than ten years—smirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.
But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:
“If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”
This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, “And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.”
Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. “A remarriage…? How dare you—!”
“Well... is it the time for my grand entrance?”
Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.
“Heh.” His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.
This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.
“My goodness, that’s…” the woman in the front gasped. “Western Empire’s…”
“Gojo… Satoru?” Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. “You couldn't possibly mean…!”
You interrupted him regally. “Yes, he is the man I wish to remarry.”
This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.
How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...
SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE
To Satoru, you were more than just the east’s breathtaking empress—you had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.
Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.
You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.
The fairest in the land—that was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.
“Suguru... look at her.” His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. “She is so... pretty, isn’t she?”
Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empire’s crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himself—even if he was the heir apparent to his own throne—could do to sway your heart.
“There's more to women than their faces, Satoru,” Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. “Moreover, she’s engaged to the Zen’in... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.”
“Hmph.”
To be honest, he couldn’t fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zen’in spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.
How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered… especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.
—and once, he thought he knew who you are…
. . .
Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zen’in Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale wedding—albeit with the wrong groom.
You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.
Oh, and he made headlines too, that day—
“My princess, may I have this dance?”
Two hours hadn’t even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoya’s bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.
Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, “Yes.”
Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you around— and come one breath away from your face.
“Princess, you’re…” his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your face—and suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.
How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody else’s wife?
And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”
Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”
Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.
. . .
Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandal—coveting the princess married to Zen’in clan.
What everyone didn’t know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.
YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE
As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.
Handpicked by the late emperor to become his son’s wife, you couldn’t be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.
But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.
“One day soon, when we are the emperor and the empress—” younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. “We will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! We’ll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, it’ll encourage fairness!”
Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.
“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”
YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE
“Your role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.”
Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.
You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. “I understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.”
This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still weren’t able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?
Your husband—no, the emperor—barked a satire laugh.
“Oh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.”
That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.
“I’m not infertile.” Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.
It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.
When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?
"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."
You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.
It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.
You tried everything—calling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.
The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.
. . .
"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"
You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.
"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."
You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.
"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."
Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"
As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.
And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.
...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.
The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidental—it nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.
Because if they really did... then...
You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.
You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.
You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first love—Naoya.
Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for him—for your life together.
"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usual—"
Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.
And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.
SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE
He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Year’s ball that you hosted.
Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.
A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.
But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser… but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.
"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"
Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.
"Emperor Satoru—"
"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"
A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"
Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."
That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as “empress”, but he loves addressing you as “queen” instead.
There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.
"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."
No, I’m doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"
Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.
"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyes—
What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zen’in Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.
“Seems like we don’t have much time, after all,” he began, urgency sharpening his words. “But rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.”
“Huh?” you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.
He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. “And chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...”
He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “To me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you… are one that sparkles above all.”
“Naoya, unhand me this instant!”
You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling you—of him always having a total control over you.
After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.
"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.
You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.
His eyes shone with anger. “You insolent—!”
“No—” You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, “How dare you, Zen’in Naoya!”
He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.
"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on with— with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"
Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"
A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."
"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."
"A favor...?"
"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"
Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.
"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"
His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.
And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped tone—
"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"
He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."
With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.
Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his child—possibly the heir to the throne.
The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.
However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectory—and history's tendency to repeat itself—emperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.
Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.
Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a time—you couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.
You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.
Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.
Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.
Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?
I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.
This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?
Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the duke—you must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)—just fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?
Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.
Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snake—he is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!
You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.
Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.
No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reason—that you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empire—Satoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.
You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.
And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.
He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.
Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D
If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.
And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.
Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?
You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.
So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits you—you're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D
Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!
You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.
However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.
. . .
"Your Majesty..."
For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering news—but admittedly, a possibility you thought was in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.
"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition for—" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.
A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.
"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.
The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.
The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.
"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."
To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.
You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.
Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.
If I can't be the empress here...
And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your plan—
...I'll be one somewhere else.
It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?
Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.
It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...
Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.
Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenly—
"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.
"Shoko! What the heck?!"
Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.
Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.
"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"
"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.
"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."
Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?
The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?
"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.
"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."
She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.
When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.
You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.
“Empress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...” Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. “Your legacy here… I’ll make sure to carry them on.”
Sometimes you didn’t know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...
“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi.” You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. “Beware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.”
You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?
“My queen, ah, there you are.”
Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.
You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.
It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at you—solely and purely on you—made you breathless.
What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?
"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."
You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."
He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how things were from his side.
"How do you find being the emperor?"
"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"
"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"
"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.
"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."
Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...
And beguile you.
His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."
He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.
Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.
But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurted—
"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"
Huh? What…?
That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didn’t even miss a beat—
“Then I’d marry you.” His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. “If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”
No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.
“Then I’ll be yours,” you breathed out. “I’ll be your empress, Satoru.”
Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.
“I’ll be your queen— your everything.” You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.
How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?
Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. “That would be my greatest honor.”
He drew you close—you let him—and after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.
His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.
One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.
You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.
And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once again—
“Give me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.”
“Empress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.”
It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.
"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."
You donned your finest attire—the intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.
"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severed—"
Good riddance, you thought.
"If this is not what you want, you have the right to—"
"I accept the divorce."
Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."
The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.
"You—!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"
"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."
You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.
"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.
"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.
Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourself—" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeply—
Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.
"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"
Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.
And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.
"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"
In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.
"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.
You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroom—
"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."
Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.
True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.
And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.
"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojo— I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."
You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.
And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.
To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.
If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...
Today is the day.
Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.
Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the light—the empress' crown. Your crown.
Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.
With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldly— shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.
This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.
"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."
The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.
Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."
You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very core—
But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:
"And here I present to you, your new empress!"
The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.
It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over again—
“ALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!”
"I have something for you!"
You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.
"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.
He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."
Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.
He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.
"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"
A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lips—
"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.
It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...
"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.
"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"
This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.
"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."
"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"
"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."
Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.
Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.
"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."
But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.
You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.
"You have me now," you whispered in response.
Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.
Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.
And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.
"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.
You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.
"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."
As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.
Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.
He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.
This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.
"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.
"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"
Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.
Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fast—
"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.
"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."
His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.
"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."
Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.
It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at once—your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...
"If back then, you had chosen me instead—" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the start—"
You looked up to him. "You would..."
"Don't you know how many years... I've been just there— watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"
"Mhm..."
You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."
He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pants—
The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.
"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.
You moaned loudly as his cock—big, both in length and width—entered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.
You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.
"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahh—hngh!"
"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it out—hah—sweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"
And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.
"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."
One woman. It took just one woman—you—to unravel him like this.
"Satoru, harder—" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"
He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
He slammed his hips against yours twice—no, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.
"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.
Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.
"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."
Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorry—"
"You don't have to—"
"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."
And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.
"I'm— close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your face— committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.
You gasped—as a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"
And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.
Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he said—
"You're flawless, sweetheart."
2 MONTHS LATER
"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."
The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrived—his mistress was delivering his heir.
Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.
"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.
"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throne—
"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.
What?
Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!
She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knew—!
Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.
"A baby girl, Your Majesty."
In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.
"You useless tramp."
Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.
He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.
And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.
How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.
"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."
"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"
You did see him—a man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.
And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.
. . .
"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"
You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.
With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"
He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."
Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.
"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many years—"
"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."
"But—"
"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or such—I love you, you know?"
Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.
He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourself—my sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotent—"
"Satoru! You're so obscene—!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.
At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.
But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...
"Ugh..."
Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.
You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.
Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.
"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."
It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...
You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.
You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with him—
...until everything you had known turned on its axis once again.
Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:
"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."
"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."
"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home country—"
"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectors—"
You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.
. . .
. . .
Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru#satoru x reader#jjk imagines#gojo smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#gojo satoru fluff#jjk angst#jjk fluff#gojo x you#satoru gojo fluff#jjk x reader smut#gojo satoru x reader smut#jjk x reader fluff#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fic#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo satoru imagines#jjk gojo satoru#jutusu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo x you
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❝ DON'T WORRY 'BOUT IT DARLING! ❞ - Toji Fushiguro
— (18+) YOUR CAR BREAKS DOWN DURING A SOLO TRIP, AND A KIND MR. FUSHIGURO OFFERS TO HELP.
₊˚༊*· warnings. nsfw (18+), slow burn, rough sex, hair pulling, p in v, rough sex, slight age gap (r is 22, t is 37), pet names, raw sex, backshots, pulling out/cumming on face/mouth, pussy eating, fingering, light faceslapping, toji lives in a cabin..
₊˚༊*· notes. I missed writing sm... also, this was one of those stories where i just got carried away writing.. also if your car breaks down in the middle of no where, please don't follow a random man back to his cabin. toji is not real.
7,035 words (25m read)
header art used - credits to @/yunonoai on twt!
A holiday. The perfect thing you needed to ease your mind— work had been fucking you up lately, so you specifically had requested a few days off.
Realising you never spend time with yourself, and yourself only, had brought you to the idea of going on a solo trip. Although with budget cut short, you could only opt for a solo-road-trip; still well away from the city, and everyone.
So far, you thought it was perfect. Just you and your trusty volks beetle, cruising off for a few days to be surrounded by the county’s evergreen trees, and going down a spiral of constantly smelling wet bark here and there.
Crashing at the nearest motel just a few miles south, and digging into a typical, pancake breakfast at the closest diner the next morning. Quite basic, but you thought that it was unironically the calmest idea for a 'holiday' yet.
Pressing on the playback button, the car radio immediately sounded out the currently inserted tape that was halfway played through, your eyes rolling at the song choice.
“..I wake up in the morning I got murder on my min-“
The sound of the tape bypassing the opening filled with the car, along with silence and the engine running. “Oh for fucks sake, Yuji definitely put that in there.”
Balancing between keeping your eyes on the road, and your surroundings, you toss the DVD away to the passengers side; rummaging around the glove compartment for another disk.
But you found the peace as of now quite calming, resulting in you rolling your windows down by the slightest— taking in the natural noise of the environment.
Your cheeks turned cold to the touch as the breeze wafted throughout your entire car, your back pressing against the fabric seats, eyes only closing for a millisecond to take everything in.
Dressed in a tank top and shorts, my, it seemed like you were ready for.. who knows what. Hopefully no one takes you, accidentally, for a side-street hooker.
Bit silent, you suppose— seeing that there was no other car on this specific road too. It was eerie, but enjoyable at the same time. I mean, the road was in the middle of the woods so I doubt people would be passing in and out of here often.
Hand reaching back into the glove compartment, you grab a hold of a random disk, analyzing it as soon as you withdrew your hand back into your lap.
..The Cranberries, not too bad. Something to lighten up the mood a bit. Biting down on your bottom lip, you divert your attention away from the road for a millisecond— pushing the disk into the radio player with a swift movement.
The familiar intro of Linger began to play. Your two hands clutched onto the wheel tighter, letting out a squeal as a result of hearing one of your favorite songs.
What seemed like forever, you wondered if the road was going to look different anytime soon. It felt as if you haven't seen some sort of sign telling you there would be a bed and breakfast ten minutes up, but you simply brushed it off.
"..And I'm in so deeep, you know I'm such a fool for youuu.." Taking advantage of the empty roads, you notched the volume a bit higher, belting out your shower-learnt vocals with all your heart.
Concerning LEDs flashing on your dashboard suddenly caught your eye, your singing stopping right in the middle of the chorus.
Frantically looking down at the light, and at the road in front of you, the sensible decision to pull over came across your mind— your car quickly swerving to the side of the road, Linger still, playing as everything started to go downhill.
"W-what the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Your hands fall onto your lap, brows furrowed at one warning appearing after the other, a whimper slipping past your lips as worry grew.
Looking out the rear window, then to the front, you've realised you're all alone. No help nearby, not for another while. Groaning, you darted your eyes back to your dashboard, seeing about three more warnings show up.
"Fuck- not now, oh come on!" ...Can't even get peace on my day off, can I?
Pulling on the latch underneath, you popped the hood open. Killing the ignition, you grab your zip-up from the backseat, throwing it on before stepping out of the car; sizzling, and smoke coming from under the hood.
"I swear.. if this is a trap for a murder film, just take me already. My survival instincts are through the roof.."
Sighing, you lift the hood up, a big cloud of grey smoke slapping you in the face, like you could suffocate any moment now.
"The hell?!" Coughing, you fanned your face, taking a few, cautious steps back from the vehicle. As soon as the smoke had went away, you leaned back in; analysing each part of your engine.
A scoff escapes your mouth, silently laughing at yourself. "Literally what the fuck am I meant to be looking at." Knuckles resting atop your hips, you stood up straight, chipping away at your fingernails with your teeth.
"..Okay, maybe I'll try and start it... and if all goes wrong- call the insurance company."
Blowing out a relieving breath, you sit back into the driver's seat, twisting the key, trying to get your car to start.
Nothing but the sweet sound of failure. Two more tries, and still the same outcome.
"..Insurance company.. right."
Unable to locate your phone, you let out a confused noise- looking sideways and upside down your car for it. "..Where could it.. be..?"
Though.. something seemed, off. Your head slowly rose up from below the passengers seat, peeping just above the car door.
A man, walking- closer, and closer.. It seems. Your heart began to thump against your chest- begging to jump out. Breathing labored, your eyes widen, body freezing at the most inconvenient of times. Wait, is he holding an axe?
"M-my.. my phone?!" With haste in your movements, you rummage through everything like a mad man, making a total mess of your car- the same mysterious guy getting closer and closer, tauntingly walking out from the deep woods.
Sitting back against your seat, your mouth gapes open; eyes glued straight ahead. This is it, I manifested it. Now why on earth did I say that?! It's over for me, I'm cooked.
You let out a mewl, attempting to sob, solely squeezing your eyes shut. Too scared to look one last time to your side, you took a few deep breaths, chanting mini prayers to save the last bit of you.
A tap on the window came from your side, your one eye opening itself. Hesitant, you slowly turn your head; seeing a muscular torso at the window tapping the glass with the handle of his axe, before the man leans down to show his face.
Dressed in jeans and a flannel, with jagged, raven colored hair— and a face to perfectly compliment his jacked up body. I see. But now's not the time to play a dating game.
"..Ma'am?" His voice deep, and rusty, your face grew more concerned, mouth still gawking like a freak in fear.
"..God, p-please don't kill me.." A quiet peep comes from you, the man resting a hand on your roof, still bent down, and chuckling.
"Lady, I could see your car smokin' all the way from my cabin. I couldn't help but see what's the matter. You want me to check it out for you, or not?" His voice happened to be quite faint from behind the glass, though you could make out what he seemed to be saying.
"..Oh... I don't mind, I just have no clue what to do, I.." Words coming out in a blabber, you stumbled over what you wanted to say, confusion written all over the mans face.
"Slow down, will ya? Can't even comprehend half the words you're saying."
Shaking your head, you brushed it off. "You know what.. forget it.. just.. check what's happening under that hood, please?"
He nods, disappearing from your window to walk around to the front of the car. Deciding to step out too, you came to the conclusion that he seemed like an okay man to trust with your car. But you just had to make sure he wasn't gonna fit some sort of tracker underneath your engine..
Crossing your arms, you walked closer to the man, who seemed to know what he was doing. Observing from a few steps away, you watched him twist and turn at a few things, no fear in getting his hands dirty. He seemed bigger at this angle, a bit bigger than you, so if he were to murder you right now... it's over.
"..Do you always carry around that axe?" Referring to the same tool that was now on the ground, you noticed his lips curl into a smile, taking note of the fading scar on the side of his mouth also.
Letting out an amused chuckle, his eyes remained focused on the problem in front of him, but his voice was able to answer something else at the same time. "Living in the middle of the woods, I think you'd do the same."
You nod, accepting the answer with no further questions. Although a few more silly ones came out of you..
"Have you ever been chased by a bear.. while living out here?" Swaying back and forth on your tippy toes, your arms stay crossed, teeth chewing at your bottom lip as you anticipated a genuine answer.
He stops, torso still bent down but head looking up at you, facial expressions unimpressed. "Do pretty girls like you always ask all these stupid questions..?"
Blinking, you freeze, at the blunt compliment and sharp stab of his words. "..I was just curious. Also, I don't even know your name. You know, if you try to kidnap me, and I happen to escape, and-"
"Toji." Short and direct, he answers that question. "Now that you've told me your game plan, I could've easily lied about my name.
Your throat running dry, you clear it out with a grunt, Toji standing back up with an unhopeful look on his face. "..Yeah, your car is busted." He picks his axe back up, turning his body to you.
"..What? But- there's no reception here and.. I have no where to go..." Great. You've told him that you're helpless, and a young, vulnerable girl who's all alone on a solo trip.
"Wait- so you're telling me you're all alone, in the middle of these woods. Lady, do you not know that there's literally nothing here but dirt and trees?" His face scrunched up in disbelief, he genuinely wondered what a girl like you would be doing here.
"..I just wanted a holiday... on my own and.. I thought.. I could crash at some motel like in the movies and.. and.. pancakes.. oh the pancakes.." A sob chokes out of you, warm tears beginning to stain your cheeks at the thought of your vacation going downhill.
Toji, on the other hand looks more confused at this rate, his voice stammering, unsure of how to console you. A random girl, crying in front of him.. Great.
"Uh, don't cry- I didn't mean to.." Scratching at his nape, he waits until you stop crying your guts out, and successfully, you do. "Look, how about I'll fix your car for you, but first we get you a place to stay."
Sniffling, you look up at him, an ounce of hope springing back into you. "..R-really?"
Relieved, Toji was able to relax by the slightest after finally getting you to stop sobbing in front of him. Comforting wasn't his forte. "Yeah, don't worry 'bout it darling. But my cabin is the only thing I could offer right now. I told you, there's nothing in this place. No.. 'motel'..."
Looking back at your busted car, then returning to Toji, he shrugs his shoulders; mouthing, 'the choice is yours.' He wasn't pressuring you at all, but it was true that there was no other option. Outside the city wasn't all that, and you learnt the hard way.
"...Fine, just don't.. don't murder me.. I don't wanna die." Toying with the zip of your hoodie, you divert your gaze away from Toji, deciding to look at the ground instead.
He grunts, grabbing his head in frustration. "Would you quit with that murder bull-crap?! How many times do I have to say it. Should be me who's scared of a Michael Myers venturing 'round these woods." Toji shakes his head in disapproval. "Just grab your things and get movin' will you? Sun's about to set soon."
Unamused yourself, you shoot him a glare, walking over to the backseat door to grab your backpack full of everything. Slamming the door shut, you sensibly grab your keys, properly locking everything before Toji shuts the hood, resting his axe on his shoulder.
The man gestures you to follow him, hopefully not towards your death. Trailing behind his large figure, Toji occasionally glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were still there and didn't happen to run off; more than certain that you were shitting your pants right now.
Readjusting the heavy backpack on your shoulder, you struggled, mentally complaining, but too afraid to ask if you were there yet. Guess you'll take the blame for this one. Should've packed light I suppose..
"We're here, incase you were wondering." Toji stops in his tracks, turning his body back around to face you before making his way to the onto the porch.
Surprisingly, it was nice and big, and seemed homely. "Not gonna lie, I thought you lived in a run down shack in the middle of no where. With like, bugs and stuff?"
"Who do you take me for?" He scoffs, "Come in when you're ready. Also mind your step." Toji points out the mini stairs just below the porch, before disappearing off inside. He really made sure that you didn't feel pressured to do anything whatsoever. So he let you enter at your own will.
Taking note of your surroundings outside one last time, you let out a deep breath before stepping inside.
Warm air engulfed you, heat coming from a well built fire place. It actually was nice inside, and everything everywhere made sense. The architecture of the cabin really had Toji written all over it.
Nothing was run down. It felt like a home, just with a rustic style to it. The sofa actually had a throw draped over it, a flat screen tv mounted just above the fireplace. There was also a nice view of a body of water outside some large windows.
Toji paced around the sofas just after resting his axe safely in a corner, stretching his arms out; toned muscles flexing from the warm, yellowish light in the cabin.
"Make yourself at home, you take my room tonight. I'll crash on the sofa." He makes his way to the other side of the cabin, supposedly the entrance to his bedroom. Toji leaning against the door frame, he watched as you stood still in one spot, still observing your surroundings.
"Also has its own bathroom, so no need to worry about me walking in on you. There's locks too from the inside. And I don't care about you going through anything. I've got nothing to hide." Toji continues, he sure knows the questions you're about to ask. This man is always thinking ahead.
"..Thanks, Toji. That's really nice of you." Walking closer to the entrance of his room, you slide the backpack off your shoulder, holding onto the heavy load with two hands at this point. The backpack swings between your legs as you walk past him, Toji grunting before leaving you be.
He fucks off somewhere into the kitchen, meanwhile you lock the doors behind you immediately. You already smelled of bark and leaves, and not to mention, the stinky smoke from your car earlier.
Tossing your backpack onto an armchair nearby, eye glancing over a few frames with Toji in them. Some of him alone, with a fish in his hand, the other.. Possibly some old friends.
Curious, you looked around the dresser for some more things that could tell you a bit more about himself.
In the corner was a birthday card, which didn't evidently tell you his age, but you found out as soon as you opened it up to see what was written.
"Happy Birthday big guy, can't beleeve your old ass is 37! - Your pal, Gojo🖕"
Who the hell is Gojo? And, that's not old.. right? You scoffed more so at the fact that the word 'believe' was spelt wrong other than the badly drawn middle finger. Just a little habit of yours you can't control. Considering you were 22, Toji was kind of old enough to be your guardian, somehow.. but let's not get into that.
Attempting to place the card exactly where it had belonged, you were happy enough with your first try; still curious to find any hidden gems, but you were unsuccessful.
Letting out a hum, you took another look around your surroundings, nodding gently in approval at the view that he also had just outside of his bedroom. Seems like he knew how to build this place the way he wanted to.
Halfway pacing around his room, you realised that he probably thinks you've been silent for too long. Deciding to step into his bathroom, notice a shaver and some cream on the sink. Allowing the shower to run, you hoped the noise would calm his nerves to let him know you're still here, and alive.
Oh, being a curious cat you open his mirror cabinet just to take a tiny peek before your shower. Says he's got nothing to hide, so..
After-shave, lotion, pain-killers and a box.. An unopened box of extra large condoms.
You gulp before blinking rapidly, closing the mirror cabinet without a second to waste. You weren't sure if you should be mortified or impressed and relieved that they were unopened. Wait, as if it matters?
Locking the bathroom door just to be cautious, you quickly did so before stripping your clothes completely to the ground, kicking off your converse and socks before hopping into the warm shower.
The droplets trickled down your body, feeling more calm now that you've had a shower. Allowing the water to run over your hair, you scrubbed your scalp with your fingertips, completely soaking your body. You looked over to the shower caddy hanging on the wall before grabbing a familiar brand of shampoo.
Massaging that into your hair, you hurried on with your shower, making sure that you didn't hog all the hot water. You assumed that he had to start up a big ass generator minutes away just to get a drop of it, forgetting the fact that it was '24, and there was some such thing as a boiler.
The shower ended up being just fine, and Toji didn't bother you at all. He didn't force the door open, don't worry; and everything was just the way it was left in the room.
You didn't have anything else left to wear than the matching tank and shorts set you bought at TJ-Maxx solely for this solo trip. You didn't have to worry about your feet being cold, as the hardwood floors were surprisingly heated.
Quickly drying your hair with one of his towels, you figured that he didn't have a hairdryer, so you had no choice but to leave it to air dry.
Finally unlocking the bedroom door, you opened it to see Toji busy behind the kitchen island. Assuming he was cooking, you made your way closer, sitting on a bar stool nearby.
Toji had a tea towel draped over his shoulder, and the smell of cooked meat entered your nostrils.
"If you're a vegan, it's your unlucky day." He says, clearly knowing you were seated behind him.
You laugh, resting your elbows on the counter, watching him like a hawk . "I eat everything, don't worry."
"Good." He says before turning back towards you with a plate of steak, potatoes and asparagus. Unlike earlier, this time a pleasant cloud of steam hit you in the face, the smell making your tummy grumble.
Toji has a plate of his own, leaning against the counter behind him as he watches your every move, waiting for you to take a bite. He pokes at a potato, tossing it into his mouth before saying something.
"Wake up early tomorrow, I'll teach you what to do in case something like this happens again. I don't expect you to follow a man again back to his cabin in the middle of no where.." Prodding at a few more pieces of steak, he notices you were busy digging into your own plate.
You just let out a hum of approval, Toji slowly sliding a glass of water towards you before you could choke anytime soon.
Setting your cutlery down, you look up at Toji standing, busy eating his own dinner. Here comes the wave of questions.. "Hmm, do you ever get lonely out here?"
Unphased by the question, Toji continues eating, but answers your curiosity. "Nah, I like being alone. I'm used to it anyways. Friends do come visit, but not always." He shrugs, unable to make eye contact with you.
"..I see.." Nodding, your mind jumps back to the unopened box of condoms back in Toji's bathroom, your inner voice mentally cursing at yourself for being too curious.
Letting famish get the best of you, you devoured everything on the plate in record breaking time, politely pairing the cutlery together on the dish. "Uhm, Toji? I can clean up. It's the least I could do."
The man just finishing his own plate, he sets it on the counter beside him, looking at you, impressed. "Seriously? 'right then."
Hopping off the stool, you make your way past him, feeling Toji's gaze burn into the back of your head, before you reached around him for his plate, and your own on the island. Bringing the two to the sink, you began to wash them with the sponge, occasionally looking out the kitchen window.
It had gone dark quickly. Who knows if Toji never had come across you.
"You got a boyfriend or what?" A first time question from the man, and it was one you didn't expect. He remained leaning against the counter, watching your every move from behind you.
Suppressing a panicked turn of your head, you kept your vision down at the dishes, gliding your hand over the dishes and under the water, you gulped before answering.
"No, not anymore. I broke up with him cause I found out he was cheating on me with some girl on the majorette team in college." Your insides burned at the memory of you walking in on them at a party bathroom, but you didn't let it get to you, not now.
Toji didn't let out a hum of approval, and instead stayed quiet. All he did was place your empty glass beside the sink that you seemed to have forgotten all about. Taking that too, you scrubbed it with the sponge before rinsing it off and placing it on the drying rack.
"All done," you dried your hands on the fabric of your shorts behind you, turning back around to Toji who was in the same position, but this time, his hands held onto the counter's edge on either side of him.
Peering at the drying rack around you, he pouted in approval, "Done a fairly good job I suppose,"
You scoff, "It was just washing dishes. Nothing hard."
"I'll be right back. No tomfoolery, and don't open that door." Toji glances to the front door, before disappearing off into his bedroom, the door closing. You thought nothing of it, walking over to the L-shaped sofa to see what was on TV. Some stupid deer documentary was on, typical, but you changed it to something more entertaining like a soap.
You assumed that he had no Netflix on it, and you were right. You can't really imagine Toji watching an episode of The Office.
Propping the side of your head onto your knuckles, your eyes bored at the screen, barely paying attention to what was on the TV. Glancing over to the clock on the wall, you read the time to be almost 9 o'clock, which shocked you.
Letting out your fifth sigh of the day, you flickered back and forth through the channels before hearing a door open behind you, Toji stepping out of his room, and this time, dressed in grey sweats and a t-shirt. His hair was slightly damp, as you noticed him sitting just after your feet, ensuring a distance between you two.
"What's this crap you're watching?" Toji rests his elbows on his knees before relaxing back onto the sofa, legs spreading as he made himself comfortable.
Tossing the remote over to his side, you roll your eyes. "Knew you would say that."
The man attempted to focus on the shit show in front of him, brows furrowing, but eventually he seemed interested.
Sitting up, you cross your legs, groaning. "There's nothing good on TV. I'm going to bed."
Toji looked to his side, watching as you stood up and left, and he had to admit— he did get a look at your behind. But no one could beat that out of him. "Alright, suit yourself. Sweet dreams. Remember, up early tomorrow."
You glanced behind your shoulder before stepping into his room, not shutting the door fully but leaving a slight gap between the frame and the door itself.
After scavenging through the side pocket of your backpack, you returned back into Toji's bathroom with your toothbrush this time. Stealing a pea of his own toothpaste, you stared at yourself in his mirror as you brushed away.
You could still hear his TV coming from outside, and it sounded like the channel didn't change. He was probably fixated on the show by now. After spitting out, you rinsed off your toothbrush, before heading back out to place it back into your backpack.
Before hopping into bed, you neatly folded your things away, ensuring you cleaned up after yourself as you hated leaving a mess behind, especially if you weren't in a space of your own.
Letting out a sigh, you crawled into his bed, surprisingly filled with two fluffy pillows, and not just one flat ass cushion. Toji's bed strongly smelled like aftershave, supposedly the one in his bathroom mirror. It was comforting though, and wasn't an unpleasant scent.
Covering your upper half with the duvet, you laid flat on your back, eyes staring up at the ceiling before your lids slowly grew heavy and soon enough, closing shut.
You managed to sleep halfway through the night, until, it had began to thunder, and rain heavily. The drops pattered against the glass window, waking you from your slumber inconveniently.
Sitting up in bed, you look around, noticing everything was still the same. The door remained slightly open, and you could see that the TV has still been on until now, but sounded different.
Looking out the window, you couldn't see much from the heavy rain blinding the environment. It was lashing outside, and unfortunately, you were unable to fall back into sleep.
Pursing your lips together, you climbed out of bed, making your way to the door before opening it by a bit.
You treaded lightly, seeing Toji's head behind the sofa. Unable to tell if he was asleep or not, noticing that the TV was on, you approached him closer. Your head peeked over the sofa slightly, voice calling out his name.
"..Toji? ....Toji." You let out a loud whisper, the man grunting and turning his head around. It seems that he was fast asleep, but... sitting up. How scary.
"I can't sleep.. the weather, it's really awful outside." Nipping at the fabric of your shorts, you sucked in a labored breath of air through your nostrils before initiating a question. "..Can you- sleep beside me?"
Toji seemed less asleep, and now, he was wide awake. He looked over to the clock before reaching for the remote to switch off the TV. It was halfway through one in the morning. "What are you, nine?" He laughs before getting up from the sofa, trailing behind the sofa to follow you back into the room.
He questioned no more, and agreed. He'd do anything to be back in his room anyways, in the comfort of his bed, but of course knowing Toji— he'd never admit that.
The two of you hurried back into the bedroom, Toji automatically walking over to his side, while you, crawl back into bed. Making yourself comfortable again, you drape the cover over yourself, feeling the weight of the bed shift beside you, Toji making himself comfortable also.
You turn to your side, back facing Toji, unable to have him stare at your face all night. The room grew silent, and only the sound of the rain tapping against the window could be heard. Though you could still feel his gaze burning into your back, which happened to go away soon enough.
"No stupid stuff." He suddenly blurts out, which you were unable to decipher. Was he talking about what you thought he meant?
You decided not to respond, and instead, shifted around. You could feel Toji's natural body warmth all over your back, and with one more shift, you realised that he was close to you, actually, way too close to you.
But it was too late to move back, as you were too scared of irritating him by shuffling around so much that he'd kick you out.
A large hand snakes onto the side of your waist, gently gripping at your stomach. "Quit movin' around so much, will you?" It was Toji's hand, and he firmly kept you in place. Preventing any further movement. The continuous friction of your shorts against him had aroused him of some sort, and it was uncontrollable.
Another hard bump rested on the behind of your shorts, your eyes flying wide open, unable to shut now. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know.. I'll stop."
"Sure, you didn't know what you were doing?" You couldn't see the expression on his face, and could only judge by the tone of his voice. Too bad you were facing away from him right now.
Giving in, your body aggressively shifts to face him, the natural moonlight peering through the windows leaving a bright enough glow on his face.
You gulp, Toji hesitantly using his finger to move away the fly-aways covering your face to get a better look at you. "..Don't know why that jerk cheated on you."
"..You don't know me, so.." You let out, Toji's brows furrowing as he studied your features harder.
Alternating between your eyes and lips, he let out a mixture of a grunt and a laugh. "Should go for a real man."
Your breath hitches at his remark, your mind trailing off to other translations of his sentence. He talking about the fucking, or dating aspect?
Silence grew between you, his thumb carefully swiping over your soft bottom lip. The air grew thicker and thicker, a sort of tension lingering throughout the room. You couldn't tell what initiated it, but the air felt suffocating, like it had its own hold of you.
Leaning in closer to his face, your warm breath fanned against his lips before he cupped your cheek with his hand, holding you close as your mouths latched onto each other. The tension between you two diminishing as your tongues intertwined.
Toji laid flat on his back as you straddled him under the sheets, the kiss turning sloppier, with a blend of spit coating your chins, the two of you moaning into each other.
You whimper, pulling away as you felt his teeth tug onto your bottom lip, a long, string of saliva creating a bridge between the two of you, both panting, chests heaving heavily.
Swiftly stripping your tank above your head, the sudden air had bit your skin, nipples growing hard to the touch, all perky and erect. Unable to see in the midst of the fabric covering your sights, you could feel both of Toji's large hands cupping your breasts, massaging them— thumbs toying teasingly at your nipples.
Palms pressing onto the flat of your back, Toji guides your hips with no rush in his movements, back and forth, groaning at the grinding sensation over his sweats, head heavily leaning against the pillow. Your top slides down onto the bedroom floor, breath irregular as you felt the thick tent in his pants dig into you.
You both swap positions, Toji flipping the two of you around with ease and no struggle in his demeanor, the man anchoring himself between your thighs.
Toji's lips latch onto your breasts, warm mouth wrapped around one, sucking away hungrily as he fondled with the other. A pop leaves his mouth as he lets go, using a finger to flicker your nipple gently, your warm, spit-covered nipples growing hard once again as soon as it meets the cold air.
You watch as Toji goes down on you, breath shaking as he peppered kisses down your stomach, disappearing underneath the sheets; leaving a few pecks dangerously close, and somewhere on your inner thigh.
Feeling his pointer and middle finger tug at the waistband of your shorts, you could tell that he was waiting; and so you raised your hips up slightly, allowing him to drag them down your legs.
His hands clasp around your two thighs, bringing you closer to his face, though you just couldn't see; Toji's tongue leaving behind a wet stripe against your clothed pussy, your body shuddering at the feeling.
Your mouth could only gape open, your eyes peering up at the same ceiling as you let out breathless moans here and there.
Toji's middle finger tugged your panties to the side, allowing your bare pussy to be on show to him completely, finally landing yet another stripe with his warm tongue. He eagerly sucks, sticking his same middle finger in, fucking your hole gently as he alternates between licking and fingering.
Letting out quiet moans, you fondle with your breasts, legs squirming as he inserted another digit, Toji using both hands to rip your underwear completely as he sucked on your clit
Your hand reaches for the pillow behind you, fingers clawing at the fabric.
Toji raised his own hips, practically on his knees to be able to palm at his own cock as played with you for your own pleasure, getting off to your moans as he continued to have you undone with his touch.
You could hear him grunt lowly, from time to time, but grunting in disapproval whenever you'd stamp your thighs on either side of his head, trapping him between your legs.
Your head leaning back, you gasped, eyes rolling as Toji curled his fingers up into you, eventually allowing his movements to come to a complete halt, your throat mewling in dissatisfaction.
"Not so fast, wanna feel you cum 'round something else," Toji appears in front of you, arising from under the sheets; stripping his own shirt off his body before tossing it somewhere across the room.
His body shifted around, and you assumed it was to get the condoms, where you already knew was located. Though you quickly took a hold of the strings on his waistband, pulling him back.
"No- I wanna feel you raw, Toji," Looking up at him as you said so, still laid on your back; the man could've sworn that his cock twitched at what you had just said.
Surprisingly, he nods, moving about to get his pants fully off him, struggling a bit, but managing in the end.
Toji uses a hand to jerk his thick length repeatedly, the other free playing with the flesh on your waist. "You sure about this?"
"I am." You replied, busy wondering how he was gonna fit inside of you. The condoms weren't lying.
Slightly and slowly pushing his tip into you, followed by the rest, the two of you groaned at the feeling, Toji grabbing onto both sides of your waist eventually; grip growing tighter as he stuffed you full. Your fingers clawed at his wrists, a moan escaping your mouth as you felt his girth stretching you out, Toji using his thumbs to caress your sides gently.
"All good?" He made sure, and you nod, letting him know that he could move, and you were perfectly fine.
Toji's hips began to rock back and forth, occasional groans coming from him, mentally thanking you for the fact that you let him do it raw.
"..F-faster," you let out, Toji now placing both of his hands on either side of your head, his hips bucking into you faster and deeper; the bed slightly creaking from his movements.
He continues to groan endlessly, head jerking back as he felt your gummy walls take him completely, cursing over and over again. Toji smashes his lips onto yours again, you moaning as a result, the man taking your head into his hands as he held you close; forehead leaning on yours as his cock bullied your insides relentlessly.
Pulling away, Toji grabs both of your legs, resting your ankle on each of his shoulders— allowing him to fuck into you deeper, and be impossibly closer, the man fucking you into a nasty mating press as the creaking intensifies; the headboard beginning to hit against the walls, the legs of the bed scratching all over the floorboards.
"S-shit, To-oji," Voice breaking up your words, you dig your fingertips deep into the muscle on his shoulder, Toji moaning closely against the shell of your ear.
He growls, resting his forehead on yours once again, maintaining eye contact with you, so intimately; "That's it doll, moan my name, come on," he coos, watching as your eyes squeeze shut; the man reaching his hand up to gently slap it against your cheek— telling you to keep your eyes on him.
You do so, and endlessly chant his name like a prayer; Toji grinning and leaving a peck on your lips before letting your legs go, allowing them to flop on either sides of his waist, effortlessly flipping you back around.
Pulling out rapidly, the flat of his palm presses against your spine. Hands kneading at your ass cheeks as he spreads them apart, leaving a long wet lick from your pussy past your asshole, he slides his cock back into your dripping hole— maintaining his previous pace as he holds onto the headboard, drilling into you with no mercy.
Beads of sweat glistened his body like that pane of glass, strands of his recently washed hair now sticking to his forehead.
"Atta girl," he moans, slapping your ass and leaving a red hand-print. "Fuck, take this cock," Your ass rippling against his pelvis, Toji grabs a handful of the soft of your cheeks, fucking you back onto his cock; a symphony of ass slapping, and balls hitting against your clit sounding throughout the room.
Your forehead falls heavy onto the pillow, voice muffled as you moaned helplessly into it; Toji fucking you in all the right spots, he meant it when he said you should find yourself a real man. He was showing you, what a real man was.
"C'mon baby, I wanna feel you cum all over me, p-please?" Toji pleads, his thrusts slowing in pace, but still rutting in deep as he fucks you passionately, guiding you by your waist back and forth on his cock to get those last few strokes.
Toji leans forward, pressing a tender kiss on your shoulder blade, feeling down your back as he left a few more, shivers going down your spine as he roamed his hands all over you,
A creamy ring forms at his shaft, thickening over time as he continued to fuck in and out of you; playfully pulling his thick cock out to heavily rest it against your ass, gliding it between your cheeks before sliding it back in. His tip red, and glossy, your eyes rolled as he slipped himself inside.
Toji picks up the pace once more, urging you to your orgasm; your fingers clawing behind you, trying to stop him from moving any more, your two legs shaking as they attempted to stay up, and support you in your arch.
He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back towards him; fucking your mind as he finishes you off from behind. "I'm gonna c-cum, oh fuck," you squeal, eventually making a mess all over his cock, squirting— Toji still fucking into you as your orgasm had washed over your body.
A dark puddle forms on the bedsheets underneath you, and your slick soaks on the flat of his thighs, a squelching noise emitting from underneath as you lazily rubbed circles on your clit; eyes rolling from the several sensations hitting you all at once— Toji’s cock continuing to piston into you.
Toji grunts, feeling you clench and unclench round his cock; a firm slap stinging against your left cheek as he instantly pulls out. "Turn around," he commands, breathing heavily and you obey; a firm grip still in your hair— the man guiding his cock with his index and thumb towards your lips.
Slapping his heavy girth against your mouth, warm ropes of white decorate your face; Toji grunting as he watches your face be painted with white, smearing his artwork all over your face, pushing his tip gently into your mouth as you sucked, sticking your tongue out for visual confirmation of the white orb of cum resting on it.
"Fuck.." he whispers, "Swallow it baby," Toji smacks his tip against your cheek, soon enough letting go of your scalp as he jerked his cock with a last few strokes.
Upon letting go, he immediately cupped your face into his palms once again, rewarding you with a tender kiss on the lips, sneaking a quick fondle at your breast.
Toji glances out the window, returning his gaze back to you glowing under the moon's light. The loud storm had stopped long ago. "..Don't you think those backshots were louder than that thunder clapping out there?"
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me. ily all soo soo much!
[luvwestwood masterlist]
#jujutsu kaisen smut#toji x reader smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji smut#toji fushiguro x reader#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji x reader#toji x you#jujutsu toji#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#toji fushiguro#jjk toji#toji x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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could you write something about oscar proposing to his longtime gf? but maybe something private just the two of them because i imagine that oscar is not big on public engagements
i'm gonna love you 'til my heart retires
pairing: oscar piastri x reader note: this was so fun to write and i really love how this turned out!! might be my new favourite thing i’ve written. it’s so lovesick and cutesy and everything i want in a proposal 😭❤️
you’re sitting on the balcony of your shared apartment, overlooking the city of monte carlo as it’s slowly starting to wake up. the sky is a soft pink, the kind that makes you feel like the world is giving you a quiet hug. the morning is still cool, with the scent of fresh coffee mingling with the air. oscar’s sitting next to you, as he always does, his hand resting lightly on yours, caressing the soft skin. there’s a peacefulness between you, a silence that doesn’t need filling.
he’s never been one for grand gestures, despite the world of flashing cameras and roaring engines he’s a part of. you’ve both always preferred the quiet moments, the ones away from the spotlight. no one sees the way he looks at you when you’re reading, or how he listens so intently when you talk about your day. no one sees the kisses you share when he comes home after a triple header, or how you so tenderly takes care of him when he feels burdened by the intense pressure. it’s these moments you cherish, the ones that feel like they belong only to the two of you.
as the city slowly comes to life, he shifts a little, and you feel him reach into his pocket. your heart skips, but you don’t dare to hope too much, even though you’ve been together for years, sharing everything from lazy sunday mornings to the stresses of his racing season. he pulls out a small box, simple and unadorned, much like the way he lives his life off the track.
he turns to you, and for a moment, he’s just looking at you, as if trying to find the right words. when he speaks, his voice is steady, but there’s an unmistakable softness in it, a tenderness that’s only ever for you.
“you know,” he begins, “i’ve been thinking about this for a long time. it’s funny . . . i’ve driven some of the fastest cars in the world, experienced an immense amount of adrenaline, but nothing’s ever made my heart race like you do.”
he pauses, taking a deep breath, his eyes locked on yours in an eye contact that feels so safe. so familiar and right. “when we’re out there, on the track, everything is loud and chaotic, but when i’m with you, it’s like everything quiets down. it’s just . . . us. it’s just peaceful. you give me that calm, that feeling that no matter what happens, as long as i have you, i’m exactly where i’m supposed to be.”
you feel yourself tearing up, and he smiles a little, a soft, genuine smile that you know is reserved only for you. “i’ve always been a bit of a lone wolf, you know that. it’s just how i’m wired. i’ve spent so much of my life focused on racing, on training, that i didn’t really think i had space for anything else. but then you came along, and suddenly, everything else just fell into place. you made me realize there’s more to life than just the next race, the next victory. you gave me something to come home to, something to look forward to beyond the track.”
his hand tightens a little on yours, as if grounding himself in this moment. “i know i’m not always the best at saying how i feel, and i’m definitely not good at big romantic gestures, but you’ve always seen me for who i am, even when the rest of the world just sees the driver, the competitor. you see the real me, and you still choose to love me, and that’s something i’ll never take for granted.”
he opens the box, revealing a beautiful diamond ring that’s just like you would dream of. it’s not flashy or oversized, just perfect, like he somehow reached into your mind and pulled out exactly what you would have chosen.
“i didn’t want anything big or showy because i know that’s not you. and thats not me either.” he continues, his voice a little softer now. “but i want you to know that i’m sure, more sure than i’ve ever been about anything. i want to spend the rest of my life with you, in these quiet moments, in this perfect calm that we’ve built. i want us to keep building this life together, one day at a time.”
he takes another deep breath, his voice growing more tender as if he wants to say it just right. “you’ve been my best friend, my confidante, my anchor in a world that’s always spinning too fast. when everything else feels out of control, when everything becomes too much, you’re the one thing that keeps me grounded. you’ve been with me through the highs and lows, the victories and the defeats, and you’ve loved me through all of it. i can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
he swallows, his eyes never leaving yours. “i want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep with you every night. i want to share all the quiet moments, the simple joys, and even the struggles, because i know that with you by my side, i can handle anything. you’ve made me a better person, a better man, and i want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you’ve made me.”
his eyes search yours, vulnerable in a way that makes your heart ache with how much you love him. “will you marry me?” he asks, and you can hear the slight tremor of nerves beneath his steady tone.
there’s no hesitation in your heart. this is right, this is everything you’ve ever wanted, wrapped up in this quiet, perfect moment. tears are springing in your eyes as you nod, your voice catching in your throat as you whisper, “yes.”
he slips the ring onto your finger, and it fits perfectly, like it was always meant to be there. he leans in and kisses you, soft and sweet, the world around you fading away. it’s just the two of you, as it’s always been, and as you want it to always be.
you rest your head on his shoulder, your hands intertwined, the ring catching the morning light. the city continues to wake up around you, but it feels like time has slowed down, just for you two. there’s no need for words. everything you need to say is in the way you hold each other, in the peaceful quiet that wraps around you both.
this is your moment, perfectly private and beautifully simple, just like the life you’ve built together.
#f1#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#mclaren#mclaren racing#op81#op81 x reader#op81 imagine#op81 x you#op81 x y/n#op81 fluff#op81 fic#oscar piastri x yn#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x fem!reader#oscar piastri x female reader#divider by cafekitsune#engagement#op81 engagement#f1 fic#f1 fluff#formula one imagine#formula one fluff#formula 1 fluff
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pleaseeee can i ask for Simon and a cam girl?
i love the idea of the average cam girl getting some special attention and tips from the grumpy solider
of course you can doll !
simon x camgirl!reader (fem), suggestive, my mind kind of went away with this one :/, ps: should I start making headers for fics??
You’d always been careful about keeping the two parts of your life separate. By day, you were a soldier—focused, professional, working alongside men like Simon Riley, men who noticed everything and missed nothing. By night, you were swathed in shadows, pink lace, and satin sheets, faceless yet vibrant in ways you couldn’t allow yourself to be during the day.
It was a delicate balancing act, one you’d perfected over time. But even the best plans can fall apart.
That mission was supposed to be routine—a simple extraction, in and out, no complications. But, as always, distractions have a way of complicating a firefight. And a bullet had come too close.
Simon had been the one to find you once the fighting died down, crouched behind cover and pressing your hand to your bleeding arm.
“Y'hit,” he said, his voice as even as ever, though his eyes scanned you with a sharpness that made your chest tighten.
“Just a graze,” you replied, gritting your teeth as he knelt beside you.
“Hold still f'me.”
He pulled out his kit, his hands steady as he cleaned and stitched the wound. You bit back a wince, the sting sharp but nothing compared to the weight of his gaze.
“Y'lucky,” he said finally, tying off the last stitch. “An inch t'the left, 'n we’d be havin' a different conversation.”
You nodded, mumbling a quiet thanks before he helped you to your feet. The mission went on, the wound forgotten in the chaos, but later, when you stripped off your gear, you traced the neat line of stitches and thought about the way his hands had felt—steady, sure, and too close for comfort.
He didn’t forget.
The way your blood had stained his gloves, the way you’d flinched but didn’t complain. It wasn’t the first time he’d patched up a teammate, but something about it stayed with him.
Two weeks later, he still found himself thinking about it, replaying the moment like it held an answer he hadn’t figured out yet.
He doesn’t remember when it started—the quiet pull toward something he knew wasn’t wise. Nights after long missions blurred into watching her,��RosyRail, with her baby doll lingerie, her seemingly always kiss-bitten lips, and hair that always fell just right. The name was a sugary veil, but what kept him coming back was the sharpness beneath her sweetness. The wit that cut through the screen and made his cock twitch.
She never showed her face. Just soft-lit glimpses of her lips, her hands, the curve of her neck, and always the way she moved—purposeful, but never desperate. He shouldn’t have been curious, but he was.
Something had been nagging at him—the way she covered herself so carefully, never letting the camera linger too long on anything that might reveal her identity. It was deliberate, and Simon knew deliberate when he saw it.
The pieces came together all at once.
Simon sat in his quarters, the screen’s glow reflecting in his eyes as he watched her. She shifted, leaning forward slightly to adjust the camera, and the sleeve of her robe slipped down her shoulder.
His breath hitched.
There, on her upper arm, was a scar. Fresh, pink, and impossibly familiar.
It was you.
RosyRail was you.
You settled into your chair, the familiar brush against your skin grounding you as you adjusted the camera and the straps of your lace chemise. The pink robe draped carefully over your shoulders, a soft contrast to the nerves coiling in your chest.
The ritual was the same every time: a deep breath, a flick of the live button, and the mask slipping effortlessly into place.
“Evening, everyone,” you said, your tone warm and inviting, smoothing over the rough edges of your day. “How’s everyone doing tonight?”
The chat lit up instantly, the usual flood of greetings and flattery scrolling past, but your focus zeroed in on one name: Frosty_14
There he was. A smile tugged at your lips. Silent as always, reliable as ever. You leaned closer to the camera, resting your chin in your palm. “Perfect timing, as always, Frost.”
You were lost in the rhythm of your stream for a while, teasing the viewers with even more skin when the price was right, but missing your favorite tipper. He usually tipped the most, making everybody else work a little harder. Aside from that, everything was flowing as it always did.
You didn’t hear it at first, the sound of a knock muffled by the low hum of soft music and the noise of donation alerts, but then, there it was again—louder this time, followed by the unmistakable creak of your barrack door swinging open.
The sight of him made your stomach plummet. You slammed the laptop shut, your heart pounding in panic, but it was already too late. The damage had been done. He’d seen it all—the soft glow of the sunset lamp, the faux-background you’d carefully set up, all leading to you sitting there, legs crossed, perched in a chair with your tits pushed up high, a flimsy thong barely covering your front. You were laid out for him, every inch of you meticulously arranged, like a gift waiting to be unwrapped.
You couldn’t breathe. Your pulse thundered in your ears as Simon took a slow step into the room, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft thud. He didn’t say a word. His silence was heavier than any accusation, and instead of speaking, his eyes roamed over you—every inch of you, the way you tried, desperately, to pull the robe back over your body. His gaze lingered, unrelenting, a smoldering heat that burned through the fabric, settling on every exposed curve. You could feel the weight of it, impossible to ignore.
He didn’t respond right away. A cold sweat trickled down your spine as he moved toward you with deliberate confidence that made the air thick with tension.
"So," he said, his voice low, dangerous, as though he were savoring the moment. "This wha' y'been hidin', yeah? Like to plaster y'tits on a screen?"
The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and your heart skipped a beat. "I..I.." You opened your mouth to speak, to explain, but the words were trapped. There was no easy way out now. The reality of the situation—of him, really seeing you—settled in, and you felt your cheeks flush with heat.
Then, finally, he smirked. The corner of his lips twitched upward, a slow, knowing curve, and even through the black of his mask, you could see it shift, subtle but unmistakable. It sent a jolt through you, making your stomach flip. The tension pressing down on you both like a vice.
“Y’ve got some explaining to do,” he said, his tone almost teasing.
You sat there, frozen for a moment, trying to regain control of your racing thoughts. But all at once, the weight of it hit you.
He already knew.
The realization crashed over you, and the instinct to cover yourself or hide evaporated. You couldn’t ignore it. He had known. And there was only one way how.
Without thinking, you stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as you closed the distance between you. You stood toe-to-toe with him, the heat from his body radiating toward you. His towering presence made you feel small, but you squared your shoulders, refusing to back down.
“How?” you demanded, your voice sharp as you closed the distance between you. Your chest was tight with a mix of frustration and panic. “How did you find out?”
Simon’s gaze stayed steady, but there was a flicker behind his eyes—something that told you he hadn’t expected this. His mask hid so much, but his posture—his silence—spoke volumes.
He didn’t answer right away, just stood there, unmoving, his eyes narrowed slightly. The seconds stretched, thick with tension. But then, to your surprise, his shoulders tensed, and he lowered his gaze, as if reconsidering.
“I—" he began, his voice slower than before. "I didn’t know, not at first.”
“I noticed somethin'.” He sighed, like he was working through his own thoughts. "I saw y'.... y'robe slip.” He paused, his gaze drifting briefly to your arm.
The scar.
You stiffened. You hadn’t thought about it, not until now. The scar, the one you had thought you'd kept hidden, had betrayed you.
Simon’s eyes lingered on the now exposed reddish-pink mark for a moment, his gaze suddenly soft, almost apologetic. Without a word, his hand reached out, almost hesitantly. The brush of his fingertips against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, his touch light but undeniable. He ran his hand over your arm, following the curve of the scar as if memorizing it, as if trying to understand.
You didn’t pull away. You couldn’t. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, and in that moment, the weight of everything you’d been hiding seemed to disappear beneath his hand.
“I didn’t know it was you,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost unsure. “Not until I saw this.”
You could feel his thumb tracing the scar, his breath soft against your skin. A silence fell between you, and the space that had been charged with tension shifted into something else—something far more fragile.
His statement hung in the air, unchallenged. Simon’s hand lingered, his touch no longer just a simple gesture, but something more intimate, something you didn’t quite understand.
But you didn’t need to say anything. The truth had already spoken for itself. Your fingers slipped into his, a gentle but insistent pull guiding him further into the room. Simon followed without hesitation, his body attuned to your lead, moving pliantly with you. When your palms pressed against his chest, he let you ease him back until the bed creaked beneath his weight.
A soft grunt rumbled from his chest as you crawled atop his lap, your thighs bracketing his hips, anchoring him beneath you. You leaned in, your lips brushing the shell of his masked ear, your voice curling around him like smoke, thick and syrupy, dripping with saccharine temptation.
"Let me show you some other services I offer... Frost."
mlist
#cod men#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#call of duty#cod#ghost mw2#ghost#ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#call of duty modern warfare#ghost x reader#sub!simon is the simon we want people#angelsasks#ang3lc
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I thought of this and had to share it for TWIG. George is away at a race and you are home with the kids. The night before the race, George calls you for phone sex but you know you have to be quiet otherwise the kids will wake up
↳ A/N Thank you for this, anon! You only sent this last night but it really inspired me and I was feeling kind of down and really needed a simple, easy, lighthearted thing to write to get my mind off the craziness of life. This was perfect <3
↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)
↳ Word Count: 2.1k
↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, phone sex, male masturbation, dirty talk, unedited
“This triple header is brutal.”
George’s voice was tired through the phone. You could tell he was trying to hide it but you knew him well enough by then; the languidness of his syllables, drawing them out just a little more, the sparkle dulled in his tone.
Sitting on your side of your shared bed with an ocean between you, you held your phone to your ear with a melancholy smile. Your husband’s voice always warmed your heart but when he was more downtrodden, it was hard to fully feel it.
“I know.” you replied gently, your book laying open and forgotten on your lap, “They really work you and the team to the bone with those.”
“Not just that,” George sighed, “I miss you…the kids. I hate not being able to fly home between races.”
You rested your head back against the headboard with a fond smile at his sweet confession, “Aw, my love. We miss you too.”
“I really miss you.” he pressed.
Your fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of your open novel spread across your thighs as his familiar voice caused your heart to flutter. Your gaze was focused on the wall across from your bed where the dresser sat, a few of his things dotted along the surface, some spaces empty with things he had brought with him for three weeks away. With a softly playful tone, you asked, “How much?”
There was a pause through the line and then George chuckled warmly, replying with a cheeky, “What are you wearing?”
“Oh—” you scrunched your eyes closed with a gentle laugh, “You’re terrible.”
“What?” George laughed in return through the phone, “I’m serious.”
You looked down at yourself in your t-shirt and faded pyjama shorts, “Nothing sexy, I’ll tell you that.”
“You’re always sexy.” George countered with ease like he had been telling you that all his life. He pressed a little harder, “Come on. Fess up.”
“I’m wearing one of your old Mercedes team shirts from 2024.” you told him, picking at the logo of one of the now-bankrupt sponsors that had started to flake off after years and years of wash. A piece of the print fluttered down onto your open book on your lap. You added, “And some ancient pyjama shorts.”
“Ooh, the blue and grey striped shorts?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
George hummed in approval, “Those are nice. Make your bum look extra good.”
“What is with you?” you laughed breathily, shaking your head a little at the obvious intention behind his responses.
“What?” he protested, his voice raising a half-octave in defence, “I miss my wife and I want to flirt with her.”
You closed your book with your free hand and set it aside on your nightstand to give him your full attention. Your knees pulled up a little, tenting the duvet you were sitting under, and you teased him knowingly, “Your hand isn’t doing it for you anymore?”
George inhaled sharply, “Now who’s being forward?”
“Am I wrong?”
There was a pause and then a defeated sigh, followed by a one-word answer in which you could hear his playful smirk, “No.”
“Besides, tomorrow’s Sunday and you always liked to have a pre-race orgasm.” you stated knowingly, “Knocks you out like a light. Guaranteed good night’s sleep.”
“Yeah, yeah, you know me better than anyone.” George retorted in a feigned mocking tone.
There was a pause again. You could faintly hear the sound of his breathing. You nibbled at your bottom lip as if to physically try and switch your mindset from your calm relaxing night-in to having phone sex with your husband. Through the phone, you could hear the rustling of sheets as he shifted.
“I can’t go crazy with it,” you warned softly, “the kids are asleep and you know how thin these walls are.”
“That’s okay.” George’s voice was just as quiet, as if he had any reason to whisper on his side of the world, “I’ll take anything. Even just hearing your voice.”
“Okay then…want me to read you the grocery list?”
He let out a strained sigh, “Sweetheart.”
“Okay, okay.” you chuckled.
You could picture his pleading pout in your mind, the scrunch of his eyes, the tilt of his head. Deep inside you, your stomach stirred. You wondered if he was naked in the hotel room bed at that moment.
The pause wasn’t doing any favours for your poor husband who was impatiently waiting through the line. George pleaded with you in that sweet voice that somehow always wore you down, “Please, my love, I’m already so hard.”
Your eyebrows raised, “Already?”
George’s shy chuckle melted into a soft groan of a confession, “I’ve been trying to have a bit of a wank for almost an hour now but my brain keeps thinking of strategies and tyre management and I keep going soft.”
You swallowed back a joke about soft versus hard tyre compounds for the sake of not making him suffer any longer. Instead, you got yourself comfortable in your strikingly empty shared bed and adjusted your grip on your phone against your ear. You comforted him lovingly, “My poor love. Where are you? In bed?”
“Yeah,” George’s breath was shallow. Through the phone you could faintly hear the pop of the lid of a plastic bottle opening. It didn’t take much sleuthing to figure it was lube.
“And you’re hard…again.” you continued, “And missing me.”
“Yeah,” his voice was a little softer, the word drawn out a little longer than previous.
“Missing what part of me?” you asked.
George hummed lowly, “All of you, love, you know that.”
“My mouth?” you taunted, letting a moment for your two words to settle before adding, “My pussy?”
The tight inhale of breath through the line was answer enough.
“Yeah? That’s what you want, don’t you?” you whispered to him, “Want to be buried nice and deep inside me…right where you belong. Isn’t that right?”
“Yeah…” George nearly purred.
The sound of his voice alone was enough to make your insides burn and your thighs clenched together a little tighter. You could faintly hear the slick sound of his hand stroking his lubed up cock through the phone, keeping to a slow languid pace as you eased him into the wonderful pictures your words could paint. His every soft breath had you shivering, feeling his need through the phone and, almost, the heat of his familiar breath against your skin.
“Just want me squeezing around you so tight?” you continued.
“Yeah…so warm.” George slurred out.
“So tight and warm and all yours. All yours to stretch out and fill up.”
“Baby.” George moaned, elongating the vowels.
You knew not to stop, you knew just how much he loved your endless stream of consciousness, how your words didn’t hold back when you got in that right mindset. He loved your voice and every thought that spilled from it.
“What I wouldn’t give to be in that hotel room with you right now…in that bed with you…just bouncing on your gorgeous dick.”
George’s breath caught a little. You could hear his hand speed up.
He let out a shaky, “Mm, please keep going.”
“And you can hold my hips and move me how you want…”
“Mhm…”
“And you could just feel how wet I am for you…leaking all over you…”
“Fuck—” George choked out, almost a sob, as if he were vividly picturing everything you were saying. In a barely there breath, he added, “Please—”
You shifted in bed a little as the sounds of him getting himself off through the phone went right between your legs. With your children sleeping just down the hall, you couldn’t stomach the idea of sharing in his pleasure just in case they heard you; it was always easier to be convinced when George was there in person. When it was just you, all alone in your bedroom, your nervousness out-powered your desire. That was okay; you were perfectly content just helping him out anyway.
“You sound so good, baby.” you breathed, your ears perked to his every small moan or groan or gasp. “Keep moaning for me…you know I like it when you’re vocal.”
George swallowed thickly, his words strained and drunken, “Yeah…feels so good…”
“Would feel better with my hands all over you, wouldn’t it? Kissing your neck…pulling your hair…”
The shaky moan he replied with was erotic, sending your heart racing and your thighs clenching.
“Yeah, I know, you love that.” your voice was low and languid, dragging on your words in a way that had him soaking in everything you were saying, “Letting me pull on the ends of your hair while I fuck myself on your lap…on your perfect fucking dick.”
George’s breathing was getting heavier through the phone, almost as if he was so in his head that he forgot you weren’t even there with him. The steady slick rhythm of his hand on himself was hypnotizing to you, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, knowing exactly what he must have looked like alone in that empty hotel room half-way across the world. It was a sight you had seen more times than you could count but one that always had that unmistakable warmth pooling in the depths of your belly.
George writhed, his voice strained and urgent, “Don’t stop. Please, keep talking. Please.”
“I can tell you're close…listen to those pretty sounds you’re making.” you purred, rambling anything that came to mind, “I’d be all over you if I was there…I’m sure you’d have already made me come twice over by now…making me come all over your cock just squeezing around it and soaking it.”
George’s breath caught. You heard his hand speed up a little more.
“Yeah? That’s what you want?” you pressed on, “Wanna feel how hard you can make me come? Knowing you’re the only one who can do that to me? That I’m all yours? Absolutely wrecking me and still making me want more and more and more of you?”
“Yeah.” George moaned, “Fuck, I’m so close, baby, please—”
You always knew exactly what he wanted to hear, speaking to him with ease of your trust and familiarity, “You wanna come inside me? Wanna put a baby in me?”
George choked out your name in the handsomest groan.
“Yeah? I know you’re so close; bet you’re just throbbing. You gonna give me what I want? Gonna give me all your cum as deep as you can?”
“Uh huh—”
“Uh huh? Yeah, you are. That’s it.” you encouraged, your free hand dropping beneath the bedsheets around your middle to rub over your clothed pussy. You could feel your wetness already seeping through your panties and your shorts, your cunt only throbbing more beneath your fingers at the sounds of his strained breaths and soft moans as he drew closer and closer. “Come on, gorgeous. Gimme it. Come for me.”
After years together, you didn’t have to be in the room with him to know exactly when he came. Your ears easily picked up on the hitch of his breath that was laced in with the prettiest whimper (something that he was always a little self-conscious about, but something you loved most) before letting it out a second later with a wavering moan and another and another, falling into those long-awaited waves of pleasure.
“There you go,” you cooed softly, “That’s so good. Give me every last drop.”
“Yeah…” George panted, “Yeah, fuck, that’s…it.”
“Good?” you chuckled through the phone as his build up eased into silence of nothing but his breaths.
“Yeah. Perfect. You’re perfect.” he whispered dreamily, “Thank you.”
“Anything for you,” you reminded him sweetly, before following it up with a casual, “But you owe me when you get home.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” George chuckled, his tone clearly worn out, “I would have done so anyway, even without you asking.”
There was a peaceful pause between you, both of you lost in your thoughts.
“It’s late here.” you finally stated, pulling your phone away to glance at the time before resting it back against your ear, “I should sleep. You know the little guy is going to have me up at the crack of dawn.”
George’s voice was soft and laced with a knowing smile, “Of course. I’ll let you sleep. I have to…clean up anyway.”
You laughed breathily and lolled your head back against the headboard with a dreamy smile at how flushed and gorgeous and messy he must look after all that. But, you knew the conversation needed to be wrapped up so you kept your thoughts to yourself and, instead, reminded him, “We’ll definitely be watching the race tomorrow…even if it means a bit late to bed for the tot. Give us a call after, okay?”
“Always do.” George replied simply, “I love you.”
“I love you.” you echoed with ease.
Another pause as if you both just wanted to hear the sounds of the other breathing for a moment longer.
Finally, George whispered a tender, “Good night, darling.”
“Night, my love.”
And the call disconnected.
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[05] tumblr girls — house of memories
it was cliché; being in love with danielle marsh, the straightest girl on earth. you thought your feelings were hopeless, until you discover her tumblr blog.
danielle’s dakgangjeong was delicious. you don’t regret proposing to her on the spot. if embarrassing yourself meant that you could eat her food on a daily basis, it was well worth it. the mere thought of her food made you salivate. you slap your cheeks lightly, willing yourself to focus on the lesson. the sound emitted from your slap catches the attention of haerin, who stares at you.
her stare reads, ‘i know what you’re thinking about.’ you arch an eyebrow at her. haerin definitely knows about danielle liking you, danielle’s tumblr post mentioned it. you wonder what danielle has said to haerin.
has she talked about your smile? your hair? your looks? or maybe your personality? well, you weren’t sure what danielle could say about that. even basing it off a couple interactions, you probably came off as weird and awkward.
the seeds of doubt seemed to have grown recently. how could danielle like someone like you? maybe she’s crazy. no, you take that back. she’s perfect. almost too perfect. oh, maybe that was what was wrong with her. no one could be that amazing and gorgeous and perfect. only danielle marsh. only mo jihye.
“are you insane?” you hear haerin ask quietly when you slam your head against the desk. a red, quickly forming, mark appears on your forehead, a reminder of the pain. you wince, both at her harsh tone and the lingering seethe.
massaging the sore spot, you turn behind, facing haerin who’s staring at you with a bored expression.
“do you know what flowers danielle likes?”
the header of her blog was a bouquet of tulips, but you could never be too sure. what if she likes dandelions or sunflowers? she was basically the sun reincarnated. to be honest, if she was the sun, you’d understand why sunflowers all face the sun. who wouldn’t want to look at danielle all day?
“gardenias,” she replies, her face morphing into one of curiosity, “why are you asking?”
well, if danielle didn’t mind you telling her best friend…
“i asked her to go visit this dog cafe with me tomorrow,” you explain, “i mean, like, kind of a date, i guess? just thought it would be nice to get some flowers for her.”
haerin lights up, a smirk plastered on her face, “does she know it’s a date?”
“uh, no?” her smile drops immediately.
“what.”
you instantly cower, fearing the intense, narrowing gaze that haerin adorned.
“we’re just hanging out. i didn’t really say that it was a date,” your voice comes out strained and quiet. haerin sighs loudly, her disappointment evident. guilt seeps into your every vein, did danielle tell her it was a date? you didn’t know what to say, only staring back at the orbs of exasperation.
a hand slams onto the whiteboard, a look of anger portraying your teacher’s face. you instantly jolt back to look at the front.
“anything to share with the class?” he prods.
haerin speaks out, noting your frozen state, “no sir.” she sends you a glare.
you deflate in your chair, mind only focusing on the blurry image of brown, wavy curls and a blinding smile.
the day had gone by in a blur. with your constant dozing off, you barely noticed the school bell ringing, signifying the end of the day. minji and hanni stand before your desk, a look of concern evident on their faces.
“is she alive?” minji asks, waving a hand in front of your face. you finally regain some of your senses, swatting her waving hand away. hanni rolls her eyes and shoves your belongings into your bag.
“girl hurry up,” she whines, “i wanna go get ice cream.” you groan, heeding to hanni’s words as you hurry out of the classroom with your friends.
maybe you could worry about your fatigue later, you had two whiny best friends to take care of first.
in the midst of licking your vanilla ice cream, (hanni had called you basic but you think she’s just jealous minji ate some of yours instead of hers), your phone beeps. and it beeps continuously until minji huffs, “turn that thing off.”
you roll your eyes and do as told, turning your phone to silent mode while minji fans herself and dabs away the droplets of sweat falling down her neck.
“do y’all remember when sungchan from the other block punched some jock in the face?” hanni suddenly brings up.
“oh yeah!” minji’s eyes widen, the heat long forgotten as you reminisce about the past years.
“what was it again? that guy was making fun of shotaro or something?” you ask.
hanni nods fervently, “yeah. i think sungchan got away with it too since someone had caught the jock pushing taro around.”
“wonder what it’s like to have someone defend my honour like sungchan did,” minji laughs, her uniform drenched with sweat. you watch hanni’s eyes follow her hands, pulling her damp hair into a makeshift ponytail. scoffing at the girl, you continue eating your ice cream.
maybe it would be nice to have someone defend your honour.
your teeth reach the cone.
“where are you bringing danielle tomorrow?”
“dog cafe,” you answer, “i might tell her soon.”
it’s the underlying fact that danielle has unintentionally exposed herself (or you had snooped around) on her tumblr blog that makes you so at ease. the mere statement that she likes her project partner could only be linked back to you. unless she had another project partner…
“oh serious?” minji asks.
you nod.
“congrats bro!”
it’s a little awkward with the way minji’s patting your back like you’re a kid. hanni just stares incredulously at how she’s treating you. sometimes it feels like they’re your parents, even though they fight and bicker incessantly.
“i can’t believe you managed to hide the fact that you liked her for so long from us though,” hanni sighs, “I literally told you about my crush and you didn’t tell me about yours. i’m feeling a little betrayed.”
while hanni’s moaning about your so called betrayal, you notice how minji stiffens up at the mention of hanni having a crush. her eyes slowly shift to the girl.
“you like someone?”
wow. you didn’t realise how easy it was for them to turn into a bunch of awkward losers.
hanni rolls her eyes.
“shut up, anyway, since when did you even like danielle? i mean, you didn’t even know her korean name.”
“the minor details don’t matter!”
“so when did you start liking her? you never told us,” minji asks curiously.
you remember the first time your eyes landed on the girl. sixteen and naive, dreaming of things that were beyond your control. the kid from the other block, you were called. it was strange, adapting to an environment where everyone else knew each other but you. yet, it was good. you met hanni and minji and eventually bumped into danielle in the hallway. you don’t think she remembers, but you do. the strangest thing was, that the moment you locked your sight onto her, everything else fell into place magically.
your extracurriculars, classes, friend groups, everything suddenly made sense and became easygoing. something about danielle made your life brighter, even though you barely knew the girl. it was like the universe knew that she had arrived. and maybe in another life, if everyone were sunflowers, you’d face danielle instead of the sun.
despite knowing close to nothing about the cheerleader, she made life happier. your day would be made even with a glance from her. you would giggle and smile at the memory even though it may be fleeting. and knowing that she shares the same sentiments? well, it just propelled you out of earth. you felt like you were constantly on cloud nine.
“when i moved over from the other block,” your teeth sank into the cone.
minji guffaws.
“dude! you’ve liked her for so long?”
“i guess so,” you’ve never truly realised how fast time passed. maybe liking danielle was such a constant in your life that you didn’t even notice how slowly you grew up.
frowning at the thought, you sigh, “she’s just really easy to like.”
hanni nods, “i get it.”
she doesn’t notice how swiftly minji turns her head.
“she’s just… perfect.”
there’s no other word to describe danielle marsh. she’s just amazingly perfect. it’s a little unnerving. how could someone be so perfect? it was unreal. you feel like you’ve mentioned this before.
“alright romeo,” hanni giggles, “calm down.”
you stare at her blankly before chuckling at your own feelings.
while minji and hanni finish up their ice cream, you check your phone. instantly, a wave of shock and exhilaration runs through your body. your phone lights up with a series of unread messages from danielle.
danielle [4.29pm]:
hii y/n!!
do u think this looks nice?
[image attached]
was thinking of wearing this tmrw
what do u think? :))
no wonder your phone was ringing just now! you sigh softly at your own stupidity. danielle must have been waiting for your reply. what if she was waiting for a long time? your heart constricts at the thought of danielle pouting, eagerly but patiently waiting. your hands fly to respond.
jeon y/n [5.16pm]:
you look gorgeous
please wear that ㅜㅜ
omg
sorry for replying late…
i was with minji and hanni
maybe she would be able to feel your sincerity through your messages.
danielle [5.17pm]:
hello!!
aw really? :D
thanks y/n!!
ure too sweet <3
that heart again. ugh. you could feel your own heart clenching at her cuteness.
meanwhile, your friends eye you with disgust.
whatever. not like they understand.
your hair sways in the wind, matching the flutters of your heart. in your hair, a crushed bouquet of gardenias rests. the crinkles in the wrapping weren’t your fault! you were just too nervous waiting for danielle. despite your protests, danielle had forced you to not pick her up, and insisted you to just meet her at a nearby cafe instead.
“y/n!”
oh my goodness.
“hi dani,” you greet shyly.
if liking girls, or more specifically danielle, was a sin, you’d gladly go to hell and while there, you would brag about how you’ve captured a glance of heaven.
“for me?”
you were definitely in love. the curl of her lips only caused your heart rate to increase.
handing the bouquet to her, and stealthily wiping your sweaty palms against your jeans, you try to muster a similar smile.
danielle grins widely as she accepts the bouquet before placing it into her ginormous bag that reminds you of doraemon’s pocket.
“how’d you know i like gardenias?”
“i…” you feel like lying, but maybe hiding the fact that you know of danielle’s crush caused enough guilt, “i asked haerin.”
shock appears evidently on danielle’s face.
“you talk to haerin?”
scratching the back of your neck, you shrug, “sometimes? she’s in some of my classes.”
danielle pouts.
the urge to take a photo of her is too strong, but you manage to resist it with sheer willpower and determination.
(you’re lying. you almost fainted.)
“ugh, she better not have told you any embarrassing stories about me!”
you reassure danielle with an awkward pat, “nope, we don’t talk very often. and she doesn’t really bring up anything you’ve said to her, danielle.”
the girl suddenly halts and stiffens up. you raise an eyebrow at her sudden frozen state. maybe you’ve offended her— should you apologise?
“can you call me jihye? it’s not that danielle isn’t okay— you can still call me dani! but y’know, jihye just sounds more…”
intimate is the word.
you send a comforting smile to her, “okay jihye.”
it must sound nice coming from you, if the way danie—no, jihye, blinks and then beams is any indication. it feels good saying her name too. it’s a little hilarious that a few weeks back, you didn’t even know her korean name.
“uh— okay! let’s go!” jihye shrieks. you like the fact that you’re aware of the effect you have on her now. it doesn’t feel like mere delusion anymore.
as you sit down in the cafe, jihye doesn’t say much. after ordering, you decide to take the initiative in starting a conversation. maybe you should start with something common; like your project!
“when are you free to finish our project?” you ask.
jihye turns to you, frowning, “have you asked minji and hanni for their help yet?”
you unintentionally wince at the mention of your friends.
“i don’t think they’ll be willing to do it,” you mutter, just thinking about hanni’s feelings and minji’s obliviousness.
“oh, then that’s okay! we can just do it ourselves, right?”
it’s pretty obvious what her intention is. but for the sake of humouring her (and because you fold everytime she speaks), you nod.
“maybe we can do it?”
the hint of hopefulness in her voice makes you want to nod your head repeatedly until it falls off.
god, maybe you are a little obsessed with her, if your palpitating heart was any indication.
“sure!” your voice comes out a little high-pitched and whinier than expected.
jihye only laughs it off. your cheeks flush red with embarrassment, but if jihye’s laughter was the result of your stupidity, you would gladly do it again to hear her.
“let’s just enjoy today first, we can always do it sometime later,” she says. you agree wholeheartedly (not because you’re whipped!) but today was your so-called date with her.
you smile back at her, with all the sincerity and adoration in the world. whilst jihye drinks her caramel macchiato with an ungodly amount of sugar, you take the opportunity to admire her features. her skin, basking in the sunlight, glimmering like edward cullen from twilight. you internally cringe at your own thoughts.
“is it good?” you ask after she lets out a satisfied sigh.
“mhm! want some?” her hand offers you her drink, the tip of the straw poking out stained with her lipstick. you gulp, thinking about how it would technically be an indirect kiss.
nodding, you take a sip.
“that’s really sweet,” you comment. jihye only laughs.
“i guess i just like sweet things,” she winks playfully and wiggles her eyebrows. it’s so ridiculous that it makes you erupt into laughter. the innuendo doesn’t go over your head either, it just makes you feel hazy, as if everything was a dream.
you quickly finish up your own pastry and offer jihye bites in between conversations. you learn that haerin was her first friend when she transferred from australia to korea, and that she tried out for the cheerleading team because the school mascot was cute. it’s an endearing reason that you can’t fault her with.
“let’s go now?” jihye asks. nodding, you quickly pay for your drinks and food, despite jihye’s protests. once outside, your hand itches to pull hers into a grasp. your fingers flex and adjust uncomfortably as you resist the urge to interlock your fingers. jihye only exclaims gleefully as you approach the dog cafe. a quaint little storefront with a cute wooden sign displaying a paw print.
your hand flies out to open the door for her chivalrously and jihye mumbles a bashful ‘thank you’. the moment you stepped foot inside, a chorus of barks resounded, only heightening jihye’s excitement. you watch as her eyes dart around the room, eagerly searching for the cute puppies. you’re whisked away by the staff, who’s wearing an adorable apron with a dog printed at the front.
“aww! y/n,” jihye tugs at your arm, pointing at the apron, “the uniform’s so cute! i would love to work here!”
your brain immediately imagines jihye, all sunshine and rainbows with the apron adorned on her body. yeah, you would visit the dog cafe every day if she worked here.
“we can come work here during our break,” you suggest.
“oh my gosh— yes!” she squeals. you’re dragged past the gate separating the dogs, and instantly, a tiny pomeranian jumps onto you. jihye just stares in awe at the various tiny dogs running around. and as the staff introduces the puppies, you cuddle up to the cream pomeranian called cookie.
“y/n…!” jihye shrieks, her eyes gleaming with adoration and you kind of notice the tears about to fall, “they’re all so adorable!”
cookie crawls into your lap and paws at your hands for you to rub his stomach. you do so as a maltese waddles up to jihye, its curious eyes staring at her.
jihye immediately falls to her knees and welcomes the maltese with open arms.
“this is the best day of my life,” she proclaims tearfully as another shih tzu pads towards her, sniffling her hand. you laugh at how easily jihye cries.
“you look really cute right now,” you say, using your free hand to take a couple of photos. jihye pouts, “i’m trying my best not to cry! but these puppies are just so cute!”
jihye takes out her own phone and continuously snaps pictures of the puppies pawing at her hand.
“thank you for bringing me here,” she suddenly sighs delightfully, “i’ve always wanted to come to a dog cafe.”
guilt gnaws at you as you’re reminded of why you even brought her out.
“you know me so well!” she exclaims.
oh fuck, you think. the only reason why you knew about her affinity for dogs and animals was because you stalked her tumblr page. it’s a heart wrenching devastation that tugs your heart to the bottom of your stomach. the guilt and shame clenches around your heart in a vice grip.
it doesn’t disappear for the rest of the day when jihye plays with the dogs. everytime your eyes landed on her, you felt mortified at your own actions. you shouldn’t have ever violated her privacy like that. just knowing that she liked you now, only drove the regret further in.
it’s a blaring realisation that jihye won’t want anything to do with you after you tell her.
but you can’t bear to keep it a secret anymore.
you keep your mouth shut for the remainder of the day. just to let jihye enjoy her time before you ultimately ruin it. she’s the happiest you’ve ever seen and it sucks, because you won’t get to see her like this ever again.
“are you walking me home?” jihye asks. you nod, not daring to even glance at her. it’s dark, and the streetlights don’t offer much protection for jihye.
(and it also gives you more time to spend with her.)
maybe she knows that you're nervous and upset, because she doesn’t start any conversation at all, choosing to instead hum various songs, filling in the blank silence. meanwhile, you mull the consequences of your actions. only when jihye reaches her front door, you decide to say something.
“hey…,” your mouth turns dry. the girl whips her head to you, “yeah?”
“i— i’m sorry,” you whisper. jihye tilts her head curiously, “what for? are you okay?”
the way she’s staring at you so concerned, you don’t deserve it at all. you don’t get to indulge in her care and affection after betraying her trust like that.
“i know about your tumblr page.”
jihye’s eyes widen considerably and a gasp escaped her lips.
“what…?”
your own eyes squeeze shut, afraid of her reaction, “and i know that you like me.”
there’s a few seconds of silence. you think she’s just taking it all in.
you use the opportunity of her shock to continue explaining, “i found out the day i stayed back to watch you practise. the tab opened by itself and i… i’m sorry… i just couldn’t help myself.”
jihye— did you even have the right to call her that anymore? one look at the girl had you crumbling into pieces internally, despite it being you who broke her trust.
“it was really shitty of me to do, and i don’t know why i did it,” you whisper, “but i like you. i really really like you, ever since i moved blocks. i know i’ve ruined things between us, and you might not forgive me, but i just couldn’t continue being your friend knowing i violated your privacy like that.”
danielle gapes at you, before her eyebrows furrow.
“tell me you’re joking.”
“i’m not, i’m sorry.”
“jeon y/n, are you serious?” it’s heartbreaking to hear danielle like this, so raw and vulnerable.
“jihye—”
her voice comes out, shooting like venom, “don’t call me that.”
you feel the onslaught of tears ready to fall.
“i’m sorry.”
you can’t even form a single coherent thought with danielle glaring at you like you’re worth nothing to her. you think of all the sweet messages she’s sent to you, cheerful encouragement she says throughout the day, the snacks she’s prepared for you. it’s all ruined. because of you.
all you do is ruin things.
masterlist | next
#tumblr girls ft. mjh#newjeans x reader#newjeans#danielle marsh x reader#danielle x reader#mo jihye x reader#jihye x reader
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Be a Good Teammate
Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader
Words: 3.4k
Preview: After Jessie misses her penalty in the Gold Cup semi final, she’s found practicing kicks by her old friend and college teammate.
Warnings: some cursing, a little angst, but nothing else too crazy.
A/N: I haven’t written anything in maybe 4-5 years. Recently fallen back into reading and then watching the Canada/US game sparked some inspiration and here we are writing again.
You could hear her before you saw her. You had come out of the dressing room well after the rest of your teammates. They hardly showered just throwing on fresh clothes in a rush to begin their celebration for moving on to the finals of the Gold Cup. The stadium had fallen silent with the exception of a faint noise coming from the far end of the tunnel toward the pitch.
It was the repetitive sound of a ball being kicked followed shortly by the swish of the net. One after the next, boot on ball, swish of the net, boot on ball swish of the net. Working like a clock, a perfect machine, that was until the sound of the net was replaced by the ringing of the crossbar and the frustration of the kicker.
“Stupid fucking penalty” a frustrated voice rang out. The sound of the voice halted your steps, you knew that voice. Jessie. You quickly recognize the voice as your former best friend and UCLA teammate. Once you hear her, you quickly realized what was happening.
You’d seen her do this when you played together, anything from missed headers, missed passes, missed shots, and now with missed penalties. Jessie was known for being a hard worker, her focus and determination was admirable by her teammates and led her to earning the right to wear the captain's armband. She pushed herself to be better and while it was that mentality that turned her into one of Canada’s best, it also came with a whole other side.
She was hard on herself, more so than anyone else, and she took it to extremes. You had watched in college as she would spend hours watching film of her mistakes, tearing her performances apart, nitpicking every step she took. Criticizing every mistake to the point of obsession. One bad touch or one missed scoring opportunity would cloud her brain, unable to focus on anything else until she could fix that mistake, that mistake was all that would matter to Jessie.
“Be a good teammate to yourself Jessie.” Those were the words you told her constantly in college when you’d find her overworking herself. Running extra laps after an already grueling practice. Taking extra shots after a game, refusing to stop the repetitions until they were in her eyes, perfect. “Treat yourself how you treat all your other teammates, you support us, you provide positive corrections, you're kind. Talk to yourself the same way you talk with me or anyone else on this team, be a good teammate to yourself.”
And that’s how you knew exactly what Jessie was doing out on that field. She was retaking her penalty from earlier in the game, the one she had kicked into the arms of your team’s goalkeeper, letting you and your teammates erupt in celebration behind her as she walked with her head down to her team’s bench.
Now you are stuck with your brain telling you to let her be, she’s not going to want to see you, especially on a night like tonight. Just go celebrate with your teammates, you thought.
You and Jessie had been close in college, so close most of your teammates were convinced you two were secretly dating. And to be fair to them, you wish you’d made a move on Jessie but you didn’t. Too worried about losing your friend and still trying to figure out yourself in the process. Now your college days were years behind you and you both moved away after graduation to play professionally, her with Chelsea and now in Portland and you with Bayren Munich and more recently with Seattle.
Your communication with your former best friend had rapidly declined over the years, you both got caught up in your new lives, new clubs, and Jessie had gotten a girlfriend. It wasn’t public information at the time but you were close enough that she shared the news, gushing about the girl over one of your nightly phone call. You knew deep down that girl is what pushed you away. Even though you knew it was never going to work out between you and Jessie, it didn’t make hearing about her new girl any less painful.
So you pulled back, with going from long facetime calls, to short catch ups, to texts. It seemed mutual as Jessie followed suit reaching out less frequently. She figured you were busy and had forgotten about her, seeing you make new friends in your new teams. These days you were lucky if you saw a “nice game” “congrats on the win” or even “happy birthday” come across your phone from the Canadian.
No bad blood stood between you two that she was aware of, except for maybe right now as you stood wearing the crest of the team that had just ended her tournament hopes.
While your brain was telling you to head for the parking lot and leave, forgetting you heard her taking the shots, your heart refused to let your feet move in any direction but toward the pitch. As you turned the corner she came into view. The bright white 17 with FLEMING printed neatly across the back of her red jersey became visible as you watched her set up her next round of shots.
Now you were frozen again, standing just inside the edge of the pitch, only your eyes moving, watching as she placed a ball, moved backward, took a deep breath and took the shot. It sailed into the upper left of the net. You watched as Jessie once again stepped back to ready herself, having already placed the next ball while you were watching her first one go in the net. Again she took a breath and fired into the net. She continued just as you had heard her before, booting the ball into the net. Over and over and over.
The stadium that had previously been filled with fans shouting, coaches calling out, music, liveliness was now eerily silent, just the sound of Jessie methodical work taking place. You weren’t even sure how long you had been standing there watching her, you’d maybe seen her take 10 or 12 shots, all screaming into the back of the net. The systematic movement and sound had lulled you into zoning out, only snapped back into reality when you realized the noise had stopped.
Jessie was moving toward the goal, collecting all the balls she had kicked, only now you could hear her mumbling to herself. Unable to make out what she was saying, you watched as she continued moving all the balls back to start her drill once again. She had turned around, her face more visible to you, eyes still down looking at the balls she was kicking. You could see her cheeks were still bright red and her skin was shiny with sweat, or maybe it was rain. Her mumbling had turned into her regular voice, allowing you to make out every couple of words.
“idiot…if I just made it… don’t deserve this…” You watched her rip the captain's armband from her bicep, throwing it aside.
You felt your chest grow tight, seeing and hearing Jessie so angry at herself was painful. She was the kindest soul, she had been your first friend at school and one of the only ones who stuck around through all 4 years. the only thing she didn’t deserve is to feel this way about her performance.
Maybe i should leave, you thought, let her work through this, she’ll be okay with some time, how much can you really help at this point, it’s over, there’s no point in making her more upset and,
“FUCK” Jessie’s voice intrudes into your thoughts as she punts the last ball with such anger that instead of landing just outside the box like the rest, she sends it sailing, landing only a couple of feet from you. You look at the ball rolling toward your feet, being slowed greatly by the wet grass.
“Sorry,” Jessie hollers with a wave and a different, more polite tone in her voice. She begins jogging over to you, “I didn’t realize they were coming to do pitch maintenance already, I’ll pack up and go-“ she starts to ramble as you realize she hasn’t noticed that it’s you who is standing in front of her.
You move your eyes down at the grass, kicking some up unsure of what to do now while you wait for her to reach you and realize you’re in fact not the maintenance crew.
“What are you doing here?” Her accusatory tone returns and you look up to meet her eyes. Just as you’d seen from across the field her cheeks remained bright red, a layer of sweat making her whole face shine. Her lips are slightly parted and her breathing is quick. Her brown eyes that you used to stare at everyday are now puffy, as though she shed some tears following the game and you can’t help but stare for a second at her black eye. She cocks her head at you and you realize she’s waiting for an answer.
“Um, I just… I heard you. And I just wanted to check on you,” you realize you should’ve spent some of the time you were watching her kick thinking of what to say to her.
“I don’t need your pity party,” Jessie scoffs at you “don’t you have some celebrating to do?”
“I’m not here to pity you,” her change in tone makes you get defensive.
“Then what? You’re here to tell me it’s okay? That it’s fine it’s just a penalty, and maybe it feels that way to you,” she stabs her index finger into your chest, her touch surprises you. Both being midfielders you had contact during the game but that was different.
Before you were just the opponent in the same way she was yours, you were aware of her but in that moment she was just Jessie Fleming, a Canada’s midfielder who you needed to get the ball from. Now she was Jess, the girl you were roommates with, the girl whose shoulder you fell asleep on during a long travel day, the girl who you tutored in calculus while she in return tutored you in physics. Her whole face now just inches from yours. You share a similar height with the midfielder, leaving you eye to eye. You can feel her breath as she continues.
“You made your penalty, and you don’t have to wear the armband, you don’t have to sit with the expectation of never missing a penalty, but I do. And you didn’t let your whole team down, I did. So maybe it seems like not a big deal to you because you’re not the one going home!”
You feel like sinking into one of the puddles on the grass, this was a bad idea, you shouldn’t have bothered her. Before you can think of something to say Jessie starts again.
“Nothing? You have nothing to say to me? Then again, why did you come out here? To gloat? Because last time I checked, we’re not even friends anymore and that’s no fault of mine, that was all you, you ignored me, so why even bother? Just leave me alone, go away.”
Her words telling you that she doesn’t even consider you a friend anymore, sting. Sure it was nowhere near like it was before but you still would classify Jessie as a friend. You have every urge to tell her the truth, that you couldn’t stand seeing her with someone else and to protect yourself you took a step back. You wanted to tell her you never meant for it to silence your relationship, you just wanted to respect hers and that meant distancing yourself. Instead, you opted with the easy way out, “I’m sorry.”
“Whatever,” her brown eyes roll as she turns away from you.
“Jess, wait,” the short form of her name falling out of your mouth on accident. Hoping she’ll stay, you reach out grabbing her wrist preventing her from turning all the way away from you.
“I promise I didn’t come here to give you pity, honestly I’m not sure what I’m doing here.” You feel her shake your grasp from her wrist but instead of leaving she turns back facing you. “I just, I heard you and, I,” You try looking into her eyes but she’s staring at her hands that are fidgeting with the hem of her jersey.
“You already said that.” Jessie cuts you off
“I know, I know, I just,” you bring your hands up to cover your eyes rubbing your fingers along your forehead, hoping you’ll be able to squeeze the right words out of your brain. “I think I wanted to see you.” You admit finally, hoping it’s not too much at the moment.
“We just played 120 minutes against each other, you had plenty of chances to see me.” She throws back at you, her brown eyes still avoiding yours.
You begin to feel a tightness in your throat, a feeling all too familiar to you, making it harder to breathe, you start blinking away the tears that are trying to surface. You’re grateful she isn’t looking at your face. you recognize the same emotions that you felt when she had told you she was in a relationship.
Jessie had been so excited to tell you, and you tried your best to act excited for her, you really did. You had forced yourself to ask questions you really didn’t want to know the answers to. Asking about their first date, first kiss, other firsts, what Jessie liked about her, providing the typical best friend interrogation. What Jessie didn’t know was when she had hung up the phone, telling you she had to go as she was going to spend the night at her girlfriend’s, the tightness had taken over and you burst into tears.
In the moment it didn’t make sense to you, you summed it up to missing her and missing spending time with her. It took a couple months to realize your feelings were ones of jealousy. You wanted to be the girl she spent her nights with. You wanted Jessie to call up Janine and gush about you, not some other girl. And that’s when you started to pull away.
“That’s not the same, I, I just wanted to see you,” you let out a shaky breath, trying to relax before tears spill over, “I miss you.” The words come out as a whisper, almost quiet enough that you hope Jessie didn’t hear and you can move on.
A silence falls between the two of you, Jessie’s fingers are still playing with the hem of her shirt, her eyes glued to them. You look up, staring at what would be a starry night had it not been for the rain clouds covering the sky. It feels like time stops, neither of you moving, no one says anything. You stand there, looking up, while Jessie stands, looking down.
“Why now?” Jessie’s voice cracks, you can’t tell for a second if she’s looking for an answer but she continues on, “You could’ve called, or at least texted.”
“It takes you 3 to 5 business days to respond to a text.” A small laugh comes out as you say the sentence, hoping it’ll lighten the mood.
“I know, but for you,” she pauses slightly, “I would’ve answered in a heartbeat.”
Her words catch you off guard and you swing your head down. You unexpectedly meet Jessie's eyes. She’s got one hand running through her damp hair, the other resting by her side. Her stare feels intense, being under her watch gives you a feeling that sits somewhere between comfort and cowardice.
You’re lost for words, racking your brain for the right thing to say. Part of you says fuck it, tell her you love her, that you want her in every way, tell her you were jealous, you couldn’t stand seeing her with another girl, you want her to be yours and only yours.
The other and far more logical part of you says push it down, you don’t want to scare her off, you want your friend back, even if it means hearing about her girlfriend.
You’re saved from having to make a choice between the angel and devil that split your brain as your phone buzzed and a slew of texts from Lynn and Midge came in. You quickly grab your phone from your sweatpant pocket, turning the ringer off to silence the tone from going off again. You quickly skim the texts which consist of variations of ‘where are you’. You catch the time at the top of your screen realizing the game had ended nearly 2 hours ago. Sure, you had done some media, showered, and changed, but you hadn’t realized how late it was and just how long you had been standing around either watching or talking with Jessie.
“You should probably join them.” Jessie says, almost as if she could see your texts from your teammates asking when you were going to be at the bar.
“Yeah I probably should, I didn’t realize the time. The last thing I need is them sending a search party and finding me with the enemy.” You nudge her with your elbow. She gives you a quick tight lipped smile.
“I’ll uh, I’ll see you around?” You add in a raise in your voice in hopes she takes that as an invitation.
“I don’t know,” Jessie pauses, eyebrows creasing as she thinks of what to say next. “It’s just, I’m dealing with a lot right now, moving, captain responsibilities, some personal things. I just don’t know if I can add another thing on my plate right now. Maybe give me some time?” Her response isn’t the one you wanted, but you realize it’s better than a complete shutdown on her end. At least some small part of her was open to letting you back in.
“Of course, I understand the moving countries part, I mean. The rest of your stuff I don’t know about, I mean the personal stuff, and then the captain part.” You find yourself rambling at her. “But yeah that’s fine. I’ll be going.” You point your thumb in the direction of the tunnel.
She turns away, this time you let her walk away. You watch her for a moment before turning yourself and heading back to the tunnel toward your car. Just when you reach the start of the tunnel you hear it again. The sound of Jessie’s boot kicking the ball and the sound of the ball hitting the net. You turn around watching as she grabs another ball between her hands, rolls it around and then bends down to place it.
“Hey Fleming,” you call to her as she releases the ball on the ground and starts to map out her steps. You watch as she turns back over her shoulder locking eyes with you, raising her eyebrows nonverbally acknowledging your call, “Be a good teammate to yourself.”
You carry on to the parking lot, picking up your phone and calling Lynn to let her know you were leaving the stadium now. While you were too distracted on the phone, what you didn’t realize was the absence of the sound of Jessie kicking the ball.
Your words had caught her off guard, she hadn’t heard it in a few years, you last said it to her after she had a rough game at Chelsea. The simple phrase brought back feelings surrounding you that she had pushed down for a while now. She stood, staring at the ball she had just placed, taking a deep breath like she did before every penalty. Only this time, instead of stepping toward the ball with force, she simple walked toward it, picked it up and headed to grab the bag and clean up. She realized she had punished herself enough, the loss still hurt, but with your words and the smile on your face as you said it fresh in her mind, it hurt a little less.
#jessie fleming#jflem#jessie fleming x reader#jessie fleming imagine#canwnt#portland thorns#canxnt#woso x reader#woso imagine
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Bound: Truth to Materials
It’s done!
I have a colour printer now. Can you tell? Lol.
This is, of course, a bind of my own co-authored fic with lately, who is not on Tumblr much/at all, and not under that name. (Apparently I continue to have the idea that I must try out new techniques on my own work first?)
The fic features artist Draco, so I went with that theme for the book design. I also used Canva for the first time, which was a mix of frustration (“whyyyy doesn’t it do this thing Illustrator does???”) and joy (so! much! stock! art!!!) I actually wound up banging the cover doc back into Illustrator because I didn’t trust the lack of guides and dimensions for measuring the cover, but the export was fairly seamless, so that was fine.
Back cover blurbs feat. @moonflower-rose because their comment made me lol so much when I went digging for gold in the comments. Also @thehoneybeet! (I feel weird putting my own reviews on the cover but I’m pretending they’re all directed at lately.)
More blathering under the cut.
For the wrap cover: glossy legal photo paper laminated in a matte legal 3mil pouch — two covers back to back so only the front gets laminated. I actually tried this first on plain paper but the ink bled in spots from the glue moisture and the whole thing delaminated as the glue struck through. I think the glossy coating provides a better barrier between ink and glue. I also used straight PVA on the second go, reasoning that it carries less water. Seemed to work?
Ran into some troubles with hinges delaminating, though, I think more from flexing and the bone folder than moisture? I can see why the IG Dramione binding girlies use the soft touch laminate — less than half the thickness. I haven’t bought any yet though, not sure I am that keen?
The endpapers are foiled but I was annoyed with the folding obscuring the words — might have to be more cautious with that in future.
All the chapter headers are artworks pulled from the bestmuseumbum hashtag on the bird site. It was very fun finding them. (This fic started with a Louvre visit in which lately and I very maturely admired many sculpted arses so there’s a theme.)
Endbands are sewn with embroidery floss and they came out sooo shiny and neat. One strand of floss per wrap is the way to go, even though it’s slow and fine work.
The rest of the bind is unremarkable — legal quarto, sewn French links, bradel-style case.
The cover came out quite 90s which I kind of love. As I’ve said before, and at risk of dating both of us, co-author lately and I met in our young teens, and that was…in the 90s. The earlier part. So a 90s vibe cover for the first fic we managed to co-write since that time? Perfect. Saved by the Bell goodness.
So… cover wraps… I am not sure! I think it’s probably cheaper than even homemade book cloth, but I imagine the archival quality is not great with all the plastic involved. But then same with HTV. I will almost certainly do it again, especially if I want to do something like a book that’s disguised as a textbook or magazine. While I love the artwork available in Canva, I definitely felt like my own creativity was less present? Hard to describe.
One little technical problem that I’m solving: endpapers didn’t stick to the hinge insides fully, not sure if the wrapped spine is too wide or it’s a lamination not liking glue thing or… but the problem is minor. Something to troubleshoot next time.
#bookbinding#fanbinding#case binding#drarry fanbinding#drarry#hp fanbinding#truth to materials#toomuchplor
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another social casualty
Characters: golden boy!Jaehyun & loner!female reader
Setting & genre: hurt/comfort, coming of age, high school au
Summary: One fears not being lovable, the other fears losing people. Two lonely souls find each other.
Warnings: mentions of academic, parental and peer pressure, loneliness, nosebleed, past friendship fallout, abandonment issues (MC’s father left), anxiety, medication, crying, the romance is very slow burn, it’s more like finding safe haven in each other?
Words: 8.8k
Author’s note: title from the 5SOS song, though i listened to a whole lot of Keshi and Conan Gray while writing this. heavily inspired by Jaehyun’s crazy academic background and how he said he was in a dark place before joining KOZ, i can’t find the entire list of his school activities but here and here are some. header pic of Jaehyun is from starry-eyed
@restlessmaknae you chose this as the one you would be most interested in from my list, so i hope it doesn’t disappoint!
i did not expect to finish this before 2024 ends but here it is. wishing all my readers a 2025 spent with joy, in health, happy new year! <3
→ BEFORE
Myung Jaehyun is a people pleaser.
You can tell because you used to be the same. Not anymore. Still, you can’t look away because it’s like watching a train wreck. Terrible because you can see the cracks in his personality but intriguing at the same time. Just how much a person can mold their own material to make them fit into pre-shaped places? How can they make themselves smaller if there’s not enough space for them? It’s rush hour metro effect: one can always bend and push and press enough to squeeze inside, to turn into something they are not. This is how you become part of the machine.
You have been there. Now you prefer to be an observer. Now you don’t fake laughs over things you don’t find funny just to not hurt somebody else’s feelings. Now you rather sit alone at the canteen during lunch hour instead of pretending to be somebody you’re not just to be welcomed at a popular table. Now you prefer to be invisible rather than seen and judged. Ghosts have it better off in high schools.
Myung Jaehyun doesn’t seem to know that yet.
The first time you really saw Jaehyun, the principal called him in front of the lined up classes during the school year starting ceremony and pinned a badge with the title ‘school president’ onto his uniform. You looked up from the creases of the back of your classmate’s white shirt in front of you to see a boy on the podium as rigid as the pole with the Korean flag. His dress jacket was perfectly ironed, necktie tucked in, no wrinkles in his entire attire. Not even a piece of hair was out of place. He stood there, in front of the entire school, tall and proud, as an example just like the principal called him while listing all his achievements. He was not only a straight A student, a member of the student council and the vice president of the Economics and Business Management club but he also proved his worth as part of the football team and representing the school in various regional writing competitions. The list went on and on, Principal Lee was really emphasizing just how much he wanted to have more students like him, dedicated and hard-working ones, at the school, but you tuned out everything after the first few sentences. Myung Jaehyun caught your attention not because of the way the silver badge shone on his chest or the way he kept his eyes strictly on one point ahead, mouth pressed in a firm line, but rather because of the way his fingers twitched by his sides. When you looked closer, you could tell he was picking at the skin around his nail, a nervous habit. Everything about him was proper and perfect except that.
Ever since then it hasn’t been hard to notice him. Although you don’t share a class, with all his clubs and one too many responsibilities he is kind of everywhere. He’s announcing details about the upcoming annual trip on the school radio, he’s on the top of the list that’s pinned in the school hall about the midterm results, he’s holding a trophy in a photograph for the vitrine in the hallways that lead up to the school gym.
It’s not like you’re watching him. There’s nothing weird or stalkerish in it. You’re not even like the girls who whisper scream his name when he walks by and wonder if they should ask him out. You just notice him and observe. You keep looking for flaws in his picture perfect demeanor. You look for signs that there’s a human beneath that machine he seems to be. You just watch him from a distance and you’re content with that.
Until he notices you too.
→ SEPTEMBER
It happens on a Friday evening, early in the new term, long after the last classes ended, so the school library is pretty empty. You don’t like crowds, so you prefer to visit when most students have already retreated. This way you can also avoid running into people you don’t want to meet. You greet the tired librarian by the door with a bow and with your bag hanging from your shoulder, you head straight towards the Literature section because of an essay you have to write. It isn’t due for a week more but you don’t like to leave things to the last minute purely because of the stress that rushing brings. You trace the spines of the books with your fingertip as you walk past them, searching for a specific author and when you find it, you grab it from the shelf. You press it to your chest and slip out on the other side of the aisle, ready to head back towards the librarian’s desk when you hear a sniffle. You look up, towards the source of the sound and see him.
Myung Jaehyun is sitting at one of the tables in the back, hunched over text books. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand and it comes back red. It’s vivid like a blaring warning sign and your gut twists as the school president scrambles to hold off his nosebleed before it would get everywhere. His movements seem frantic, almost panicked as he fumbles with the zipper of his backpack but he freezes in spot when he notices you watching. With two fingers pressing his nose, blood splotches on the sleeve of his immaculate white shirt, he stares at you wide eyed, just as frozen in place as you are.
You’re startled. The moment your eyes meet, you feel his gaze burn. You cast your eyes down and take a step backwards, ready to leave and pretend nothing happened. Because nothing did. But then you halt, thinking better off it. You swiftly reach into the front pocket of your bag and take out a small packet of tissues and a piece of chocolate you always keep with yourself in case your blood sugar dipped. You can feel Myung Jaehyun’s eyes on you the entire time you walk up to his desk. Realistically speaking it doesn’t take more than a few seconds, it is six steps at max but it feels longer with his scalding attention on you. You’re not used to being watched, you’re a wallflower after all.
You put the tissues and chocolate down on the table and turn around to leave. You don’t wait for the boy’s reaction. You don’t even look at him. You don’t stop when he calls after you. You leave as quickly as you came. Blend back into the shadows where you like to be.
Myung Jaehyun doesn’t let you though.
Next week when you leave your classroom on Tuesday, he’s out in the corridor in front of the door, waiting. For you. There’s not much guessing about it since you are the last one in the class, everybody else having somewhere to run off and here you are, taking your time. You only falter for a moment when you step over the threshold and take in the sight of the school president in all his glory. Then you look down onto the laminated floor and turn down the corridor.
Jaehyun pushes himself away from the window frame he has been leaning against so far and catches up to you fast.
“Wait,” he calls after you, his voice is an echo of the sound he made back in the library.
Thinking back on it twists your gut uncomfortably as you remember the blood and how the boy looked at you like he never received kindness from a stranger. Much to your dislike, you slow your steps and eventually come to a halt when you realize you can’t just brush off the boy’s presence, so you decide it’s better to get over with. You look up at him questioningly, nails digging into the straps of your backpack as you wait.
“Can we talk?” Jaehyun asks, polite like anytime you heard him talk and he looks relieved that he doesn’t have to chase you down. His tie is a little crooked today but other than that there’s nothing out of place about him. Although from this close you see the dark circles under his eyes and can’t help but wonder how much he slept last night and the night before that. He has always had the best score but it didn’t stop him from running himself thin last week if the nosebleed is anything to go by.
“If you’re worried about what happened in the library, don’t. I won’t tell anybody,” you shrug because why would you? He certainly isn’t the first senior who drives himself over his own breaking point. You had heard stories about hospital IV dip visits, students fainting after handing in their papers and ‘vitamins’ passed around before exam week. The stakes are high. The competition to get into a Seoul university, especially a SKY one is cutthroat and you know that the school president aims for that. Everybody expects him to do so. With his list of achievements and history of high scores, it sounds viable. But at what price?
“It’s not that,” Myung Jaehyun protests but despite his words his shoulders visibly go slack with relief. You can tell that he cares a lot about his reputation and it sure would have left a stain if people knew that the all so perfect school president was human too, bleeding from academic pressure right on his homework. You grimace at the thought.
“You don’t owe me anything either,” you clarify because you never expected anything in return for being a decent human being and you don’t know what else he could possibly want.
“But…”
“Really. Just forget it,” you sigh, tired of arguing already. The boy looks conflicted under his wavy fringe, almost like a puppy before schooling his expression and clearing his throat.
“Thanks anyway,” he says before stepping out of your way, so you can keep going and you do. You move on with your life, watching from the sidelines as he receives praise for his participation in a regional essay contest and when the football team returns with another hard earned win.
Days pass in a blur. Like they always did. Just another day to get through. Just another week. Just another term. Gosh, you can’t wait for high school to end. You have had enough of seeing these people.
On Monday you make eye contact with Mijoo when you come out of a stall in the girls’ bathroom and she’s in front of the mirror fixing her already perfect makeup. She used to not do that, care too much about her appearance, not before she befriended Kim Soyeon. Now you awkwardly hold eye contact for one, two, three seconds and then she looks away. You’re the one who walks away just like you did before but it doesn’t make it easier. There’s something hollow and painful in your chest, still missing something you once had.
Three days later your mother asks you about school while you help clean the tables at the café. She asks about the midterms and if you’re still friends with ‘that ponytail girl’. The reminder feels like a slap and your throat closes up.
On Friday you skip out on lunch hour and spend it lying on the bench in the yard, staring at the sky. You’re caught like that when it starts to rain. You watch it through spread fingers as the first raindrops fall then close your eyes and smile. You have always loved the rain and even though it’s impractical to get soaked in the middle of the school day, you can always change into your PE clothes, you reason.
But then the rain stops. You can’t feel the cold drops on you even though you hear the rhythmic sound of them hitting the ground and you pry your eyes open only to see Myung Jaehyun standing above you with an umbrella held over you. You shoot up into a sitting position quickly, then stand up and smooth down your uniform. Not necessarily because you’re embarrassed but because you hate being a burden to others and while you didn’t ask for his help, based on his persistence from last time you know he wouldn’t have just left no matter what you told him. Hell, he even moves to shrug off his jacket before you stop him.
“It’s okay. I have a change of clothes inside,” you explain but there’s no arguing with the school president about walking you inside. You can tell he wants to ask you something but you don’t give him a chance to. Once you are between four walls, you mutter out a polite thanks and then head to your classroom.
→ OCTOBER
On another Friday evening, Myung Jaehyun asks if he can sit at your table in the near empty library. You don’t understand what he’s getting at, so you just shrug, still focused on your homework. When you steal a glance at the boy on the other side of the table, you see him go over pages of ink writing, highlighting certain parts. There’s torn and nipped skin around his thumb nail. You turn back to your workbook before he could notice that you were looking.
“Are you coming to the school trip?” The boy asks when half an hour later you start packing your bag. The question surprises you because he shouldn’t care. He doesn’t even know you.
“No,” you answer curtly, not going into details. He doesn’t need to know that you’ve always been a homebody and you don’t enjoy social interactions, especially not school-related ones. But Jaehyun is stubborn and curious a bit too much.
“Why not?” He asks and you sigh.
“It’s not really my scene. I don’t want to spend more time around my classmates than I have to,” you shrug nonchalantly but there must be something in your voice that gives you away because the boy furrows his brows in worry.
“Did something happen?”
“No,” you lie or well, not really. Technically, nothing really happened regarding the trip. But if things were like they were a year ago, you would be excited about going with Mijoo. Things just change, people too. It’s not necessarily a bad thing.
“You’re always alone,” Jaehyun says in a quiet voice in the library’s dead still silence. He says it like it was something you should be sad about. A part of you wants to question whether he had been stalking you to notice that but that would have been rich coming from you who had been watching him from afar all along, so you decide against it.
“Yes. I prefer that way,” you tell him instead and it’s true. Better alone than with fake friends. Yet, the boy can’t even seem to fathom the idea.
“You can’t mean that,” he mutters with widened eyes and it leaves you with something bitter in your gut.
Can’t you? Just because a pretty boy runs himself thin to get everybody’s appreciation, can’t you want some peace of mind alone?
“Not everybody needs constant validation,” you snap at him and it comes out harsher than intended. You can see the hurt mirrored in Jaehyun’s eyes but you don’t let yourself linger on it as you hoist your bag up to your shoulder. “Don’t make me your charity case.”
“I don’t… I’m not…”
The always so eloquent Myung Jaehyun seems speechless now but you don’t wait for him to figure out what he wants to deny more, whether he can at all. You leave him there at the table. You’re good at that: leaving. Better be the one doing it than being the one left behind.
It’s been four years since you last saw your father. A part of you misses him, or at least the idea of a reliable father. At first you had been angry at your mother for giving him an ultimatum but then realized that at the end of the day, it wasn’t her fault. It was your father who chose his gambling addiction over you. So maybe you were better off without him.
It was around that time too when you realized that being left short on money limited your future opportunities. Not that you ever dreamed about going abroad or attending the best schools in the country. You didn’t even know what you wanted to do with your life and it sounded stupid, spending so much money on education just because everybody else was doing it around you. You started helping out your mom at the café then too, so she wouldn’t have to hire another part-timer and even though now, when things are better, your mother tries to convince you from time to time to go to after school studies instead of wiping tables and washing dishes, you don’t mind doing it. You can choose the melody coming from the old retro music box, help her come up with decoration ideas for holiday seasons and taste test new baked goods. You also take your role as her social media manager very seriously, posting aesthetic photos on Instagram periodically. It’s a simple life, a comfortable one and you’re content with it.
Your homeroom teacher not so much.
He called you into the teachers’ office to talk and you already knew why. It made it a bit easier to brace yourself for the impact of his words. Him asking about the reasons why you didn’t apply to any university. He doesn’t accept your answer and your satisfaction easily, he pushes relentlessly, telling you that you would regret it one day but you know it’s not about your future, it’s about the school’s yearly statistics. You tune out most of his speech, focusing on a loose thread of his worn knitted sweater, of the low hum of the coffee machine in the back and the printer coughing up papers. Then a familiar voice reaches your ear and you glance over the cubicle wall to see Myung Jaehyun with a punch of papers in his arm. His homeroom teacher pats him on the shoulder, proud, and for a moment you wonder how the boy feels about it.
“Y/N! Are you even listening?” Your own teacher chides and you avert your gaze back to the man but in your peripheral view, you can see the school president turn towards you just when Mr Hong clicks his tongue in annoyance. “It’s always the ones without fathers. They lack discipline.”
His words burn you deeper than expected. Him blaming something like this on your lack of father, on your mother’s loving care and hard work essentially. It makes you clench your hands in fists by your sides until you’re dismissed with a resigned promise to think about it.
When you finally leave the teachers’ office, Jaehyun waits outside. His eyes are gentle and a little sad but not pitying as he asks:
“Are you okay?”
“I will be,” you nod because it’s not a big thing, you will get over it. Jaehyun doesn’t press and you’re grateful for that.
You don’t know when it happens and how. Letting down your guard around Myung Jaehyun of all people. It happens gradually like the trees changing their green leaves to more colourful attire. You���re very different: he cares too much about his grades and image and you care too little. He has all these big ambitions and you have none. He basks in glory in front of the school and you let out a sigh of relief when you can get over a day without anybody talking to you.
You have never stopped looking at Jaehyun though. You see him in the corridor, tall and proud and confident. You see him celebrated for his achievements on the school podium and even in the canteen surrounded by all his so-called friends and admirers. The difference is that lately he has been looking back. His gaze meets yours in the busy canteen when you sit at a table with strangers like you usually do if there’s no empty table. Your eyes meet in the hall when you arrive two minutes before the bell rings and he’s on gate duty. He never talks to you, never approaches you and it makes it easier to relax in his company, knowing that he wouldn’t bring unwanted attention to you.
He finds you in the almost empty library though, sits at your table in silence and minding his own business. He doesn’t bring up the trip again and you don’t call him out on his unusual behaviour either. You just exist in the same space, without judgement, without expectations. It’s actually quite nice.
It gives you the push to go up to him too when you see him alone at your usual table in the library on a Thursday late afternoon. As you get closer you see a brochure for Seoul National University open in front of him and that he’s reading a book about writing personal statements and study plans for college applications.
“So SNU?” You ask quietly enough not to startle him as you slip into the seat across from him.
Jaehyun looks up, his hair a bit messy, probably from running his hand through it more than usual but you like this look on him. Not being oh so perfect makes him seem more approachable.
“Yeah. What about you?” He inquires, trying to make a conversation probably because you didn’t hear the beginning of your conversation with your homeroom teacher back in the teachers’ office. You used to be nervous when people asked such loaded questions, afraid of disappointing them but once you accepted that their opinion didn’t matter more than yours, it all became easier.
“Oh, I won’t go to university.”
“What? Why?” The school president’s eyes widen in surprise as if he couldn’t even imagine that and maybe he can’t. With the competitive job market of Korea, people are made to feel like they worth nothing without a degree but you never dreamed of a white collared job, so you don’t care about that. There are many respectable ways to live without pursuing higher education.
“I don’t need a university degree to help out at my mom’s café,” you explain matter-of-factly and then out of curiosity you look up at Jaehyun, the boy who picks on his skin and works hard until he gets nosebleed, who is always number one and the teachers’ favourite yet never really smiles. “Why? Is it really you who wants to go to SNU?”
“Of course it’s me! Who else would it be?” Jaehyun’s voice pitches higher than usual, his tone defensive. You quirk a brow, not deeming necessary to answer. It could be his parents, his teachers, the society. He must realize it too because he cast his eyes down and his fingers twitch nervously over the papers in front of him.
After a few minutes of silent shuffling around, his phone buzzes and he curses under his breath, hastily packing his bag.
“I have practice. Sorry,” he apologises, which must be a force of habit because it’s not like you agreed to hang out, nor it’s like he should be sorry for leaving early.
You just nod at him, thinking of the pressure he must have on him with all these responsibilities of which you barely see a fraction. And if you take a detour to pass by the football field on your way out of school, it’s only for you to know. You can’t help it, you get too curious for your own good sometimes and you wonder how the school president is when he plays. It’s easy to spot him when you stop to watch a bit. It’s just practice but you can see how hard he tries, how he pushes his own limits. Running and running until he can’t. He doesn’t seem to do anything half-heartedly. He’s like a flame, burning bright, but you wonder just how long could his passion last before he burns out.
“You know, for somebody who doesn't plan on going to university, you’re here a lot,” Jaehyun mentions one time after he opens his Ethics book. There’s a question hidden in his statement but you don’t mind it as much as you thought you would.
“My mom doesn’t let me help out on school days and I like it here better than in the empty house,” you admit because no matter how much you like being alone, an empty, cold house has a different feel. This way your mom also has the illusion that you have friends to hang out or study with after school and doesn’t worry about you that much. Half of the time you don’t even do homework, just grab a book and read.
Jaehyun hums and stays quiet for a while but you can tell he lingers, he hasn’t flipped a page in the book in front of him for ages. You wait patiently for him to speak up, for his gaze guiding to your features again, tentatively this time.
“Do you… really don’t mind being alone? Aren’t you like… afraid of not having anybody in your life? Of being lonely?” He questions and you aren’t sure what happened that prompted him to ask about that but you would be the last person to judge him after voicing out fears so human.
“I’m more afraid of losing myself while trying to make myself digestible for others and I don’t like the idea of people leaving. It’s easier to avoid that if you don’t get attached,” you answer the best you can without sharing too many details, too many scars of your past. It already feels a bit too much, a bit too personal. You aren’t exactly friends after all. He’s just a boy who sometimes sits at your table. It’s not like you would see each other after graduation, it’s safe.
“Digestible?” Jaehyun mumbles, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Everybody does it. They pretend to be somebody they aren’t, so others would like them,” you explain but the boy shakes his head, not exactly in disagreement though.
“You make it sound so bad. But what’s so wrong about only showing your better sides to other people?”
You don’t answer right away. Just look into Jaehyun’s eyes, letting your gaze linger over his dark circles and the bitten ends of his nails. You sigh, quietly.
“Isn’t it tiring? Being in somebody else’s skin just to be liked?”
Jaehyun could argue that it’s still his skin, that it’s just a better version of himself and you would let him. If he wanted to hide his flaws and imperfections, he has every right and you wouldn’t tell him not to do it because you know how scary it’s to bare yourself in front of somebody else and it’s not like you’re not hiding parts of yourself, it’s just easier to not have anybody around you close enough to see them.
→ NOVEMBER
CSAT exams are approaching fast: students get busier, teachers try to squeeze in just one more type of question in their classes and you can tell that everybody’s nerves are fizzled. One would think that the school president with his consistently high scores is calm and prepared but you know Jaehyun better than to believe that facade. Still, you don’t expect to catch him on a call with his mother when you leave the football field’s bleachers. These days the school library is full of people day and night, too busy, too stressful, so you prefer killing time on the white painted benches as long as the weather’s not too cold. You don’t mean to eavesdrop, you just halt in your steps when you hear Jaehyun’s voice, unsure of what to do.
“Everything’s okay, mom. Yeah, you don’t have to worry, I’m doing fine.”
His voice is cheerful but you can tell that it’s fake. You can hear him let out a deep breath when he lowers the phone in his hand. He isn’t fine. He has been running himself paper thin. Barely eating, barely sleeping. His hands tremble as he takes the pills. Whether it’s supplements or medicine for stress you never asked. He says it’s only until the CSAT is over. He says it like it’s natural, like it’s a rite of passage everybody goes through.
When you step out of the wall’s cover and Jaehyun sees you, he momentarily tenses before relaxing. You have already seen him in moments of weakness, he knows he doesn’t have to pretend in front of you.
He walks you to the bus stop before going back to squeeze in one more hour of studying before his body would give up on him. You think about stopping him, about telling him not to overdo it but you know that he’s smart enough to know he’s burning the candle on both ends and it could end badly. It also feels unfair of you to tell him to stop when you could never understand his ambitions, so it’s easy for you to say so. So instead of arguing about principles, or trying to stop him knowing it’s useless, you push a bottle of C-vitamin rich juice drink into his hands next morning when you meet by the school gates. It’s you saying that he isn’t alone without saying it. Because the thing is, he never was alone, not physically. But one can be lonely even when dozens of people surround them.
The day of exams is a nerve wracking one, even for you, who doesn’t care about it much because your future doesn’t depend on these scores. You can’t even fathom the pressure and how it feels for those who base their dreams on this one day. Your head is hurting from being in the stuffy classroom solving Maths problems and answering questions about paragraphs from classics all day but instead of heading straight home, you watch as students file out of the school in batches and then one by one. When Jaehyun steps outside of the building, he seems deep in thought and his hands are full of exam papers he’s still reading through. He doesn’t even notice you at first, not until you pull on the sleeve of his jacket. When your eyes meet, you realize that he looks beyond tired and anxious. It breaks your heart a little.
“How do you feel?” You ask carefully, taking the exam papers from his hands and folding them neatly, ready to be packed away.
“I thought I would be relieved that it’s finally over but I keep going back re-thinking my answers, wondering what if I messed it up,” the school president sighs deeply, a shaky little sound and he looks so worried with furrowed forehead and nervously tapping fingers that you have this urge to wrap him in a warm blanket and make sure he can be without worries just a bit.
“There’s nothing you can do about it now though. Maybe you should focus on something else,” you suggest, gently as you hand him back the papers and the boy nods, his fingers brushing yours as he takes it back.
“Yeah, you’re right. The regional football championship is on the corner and I need to write an essay for the school paper. Then there’s…”
“No, I meant…” You cut his anxious rambling off a little frustratedly but when you have Jaehyun’s deep brown eyes on you, curious and confused, you suddenly feel awkwardness sweep into your bones at your silly little idea. Nevertheless, you push through it. “If you’re free this weekend, would you come with me somewhere?”
“Sure. Where are we going?” The boy doesn’t even hesitate even though he does sound a bit doubtful for which you don’t blame him. It’s the first time you initiate any kind of planned program when it’s actually you who claims she just wants to be alone and doesn’t want to get close to anybody.
“You’ll see. I swear I’m not kidnapping you,” you clear your throat, a bit nervous now that Jaehyun’s full attention is on you so unabashedly.
“Very reassuring,” he laughs but it’s a little forced sound, the weight of the day still pulling him down, exhaustion slowly wearing him down. So after agreeing on the details like the meeting location and exact time, you usher him to go home and get some sleep.
You tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything. It’s not even a friendly thing, it’s just a thing. A fun thing because you have never seen Jaehyun do anything just for fun. Almost like if it doesn’t count towards his final evaluation in life achievements, it wouldn’t make sense to do so. Or as if he wouldn’t deserve it, which is just sad. So you plan to take his mind off the CSAT results that should come out in a week or two and make sure that he relaxes a bit even if just for a few hours.
You meet up near the metro station and while you show the way, it’s admittedly a bit awkward at first, since neither of you is used to small talk between you. Luckily, the theatre where you bought tickets to a contemporary comedy isn’t far and Jaehyun’s reaction is positively taken aback when you lead him to the entrance.
“Do you like it?” You inquire tentatively, trying to assess his reaction but it’s not easy Jaehyun looks more dumbfounded than anything.
“Yeah, but… how did you know?” He blinks at you a little awed.
“You’re applying to SNU’s Literature and Theatre department. It wasn’t that big of a guess that you appreciate theatre plays,” you shrug, trying to play it off coolly as you line up for ticket inspection.
Since it’s a smaller, more local theatre you don’t look that out of place even though you’re definitely one of the youngests in the audience. Luckily, the play is as funny as the reviews claimed it to be, so you have a good time and from the looks of it, Jaehyun too. It’s the first time you see him smile, really smile without forcing it, and you wonder why he’s hiding it. It’s a beautiful thing.
When the play ends, the boy insists on treating you to dessert as a celebration for getting over with the exams in exchange for the theatre ticket and sitting in the warm, already winter-decorated place, munching on brownie, the remaining awkwardness melts away. For the first time you don’t talk about school-related or heavy matters but rather things like your favourite season, sweet cravings in the colder weather, books you read and your families. It’s new and unfamiliar, a little scary because you can tell you’re getting attached but it’s nice and you decide to focus on that. You let Jaehyun walk you home because it’s late and dark, he reasons and there’s no arguing with him.
“See you at school,” he bids his goodbye when you arrive at the building where you live just above your mother’s cozy little café.
“Yeah. Take care,” you smile shyly and you can see a slow grin make its way to Jaehyun’s lips too. It looks genuine, just how he looks at ease as if some weight was lifted from his shoulders. It’s a good look on him.
→ DECEMBER
Frost is already decorating your window in the mornings when the CSAT results are delivered. Students are buzzing with anticipation and nerves. Once the scores are out, everybody’s guessing whether it will be enough for their first pick or they should scramble for extra points somehow. Most people accept their results eventually and get ready for the holidays instead. You know that Jaehyun did well enough to be hopeful, though you know better than to congratulate too early because SKY universities have much more complex acceptable criteria than other public universities. Not to mention, you know that even with great CSAT scores and good GPA, the competition for scholarships starts even before universities would notify the students about acceptance.
When you see Mijoo cry her eyes out in the girls’ bathroom, her mascara running down her pretty cheeks, something heavy settles in your chest. You haven’t talked in a year and you avoided each other after you got into that argument about how you wanted to live your lives but it would have felt wrong to just walk out without a word. For the sake of your happy memories before the fallout, you could still try to comfort her if she needed it.
“Are you okay?” You ask quietly, fully ready to be sneered at and sent away but your former best friend looks up at you with red rimmed eyes and relief.
“I will survive,” she lets out a shuddering exhale, her voice breaking between syllables. “My points are not good enough for a scholarship at Hankuk, so even if I do get in, I can’t enroll. We don’t have that kind of money. Soyeon and the others dropped me the moment they found out.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper and you mean it because even though you never wanted to go to university, you know how important it’s for Mijoo. More important than your friendship. And even though you have already warned her about what kind of person Soyeon is with her rich family and nicely paved future when they first started hanging out after hagwon, you don’t remind Mijoo that you told her so.
“No. I’m sorry,” she mutters and forces a hopeful smile looking at you. Slowly, you reciprocate it as you help her up. There is clearly something broken between you and it certainly can’t be fixed from one day to another but maybe it’s worth trying.
When Jaehyun asked about your winter break plans, you didn’t think he would make a visit at your mom’s café where you are now working most days. Usually it’s not you who interacts with customers, your mother and the part-timer handle it, so you’re quite surprised when Donghyun pokes his head into the kitchen and tells you that somebody is looking for you.
You’re confused but wipe your soapy hands and go outside only to see Jaehyun at one of the tables shyly waving at you. He wears a cute beanie that has snowflakes melting over the knitwear and his cheeks are tinted pink from the cold. But most importantly, he looks well rested.
“Hey,” you greet him when you reach his table and you can practically feel your mother’s curious gaze on you. “Donghyun said you were looking for me?”
“Uh, hi, yes. Actually I just asked if you were here but he said you would get you, so…” Jaehyun trails off with a casual shrug. “I hope it’s not weird that I’m here. I don’t want to be a bother.”
You hastily shake your head no.
“No! It’s okay, really. I hope you like it here,” you say and brush a piece of hair behind your ear a bit self-consciously. You love your mother’s place with your whole heart, so sharing it with him even if unintentionally feels a bit like sharing a part of yourself. But you don’t mind, you realize, not if it’s him.
“I do. Your mom makes a killer hot choco,” Jaehyun smiles softly and his compliment sounds so sincere, you can’t help but smile too.
“She will be delighted to hear that,” you note as you sneak a look at the boy’s mug which definitely has more marshmallows than the standard. You turn to look at the woman behind the counter but she just waves you off, not so subtly telling you to keep your friend company, the dirty dishes can wait.
So you end up sitting down by Jaehyun’s table, talking about how he spent Christmas with his family, visiting relatives in the countryside and bickering with his older brother while you tell him about your cozy Disney movie nights and eating too much of your mother’s holiday butter cake. It’s when Jaehyun leaves and you glance at his empty spot that you realize you would miss him after graduation and joke’s on you, really, because you were the one to first approach him. You should have known better if you weren’t ready for the consequences.
→ JANUARY
The days leading up to graduation are a rollercoaster of emotion.
“So what’s with you and the school president?” Mijoo asks playfully on one of the last days of school when you’re eating together in the canteen and she catches sight of the boy with other football players as she follows your line of sight.
“Nothing,” you claim, bewildered, quickly averting your eyes back to your food, scrambling to find some excuse but Mijoo doesn’t even listen.
“Yeah, sure. I know your mother’s café is good but he’s practically a regular now,” she huffs and you start regretting that you told her that. “And don’t tell me it’s because he’s tutoring your part-timer during his shifts.”
You close your mouth without saying anything because you were just about to bring up how Jaehyun and Donghyun seem to get along, the school president helping out the junior student with his English.
“Not to mention, you went to his last football match and you don’t even like sports,” Mijoo continues and yeah, that’s on you. You even dragged her along (not that she needed much of a convincing) because you didn’t want to go alone, to be so out of your element and the girl was just happy to spend time with you again.
“I was just… curious,” you mumble, poking your tofu cubes with your chopsticks on your plate.
Seeing Jaehyun on the field was like seeing a different side of him. You know thanks to his stories that he liked football since he was a kid and he appreciates the teamwork aspect of the sport but watching him play during a match felt special. Sure, he still looked focused and determined, a bit uptight like he did when it came to his academics but after the winning goal point, being huddled by his teammates, he looked so proud. It’s a look he never allows himself when it comes to his individual success because he’s too hard on himself, as if he didn’t deserve it, as if he still should have done better. So you’re glad that you went, that you could see him genuinely be happy with his team over the win. Still, you slipped away without congratulating him, letting the school crowd surround him because he was supposed to be in the center of the attention and you wanted no part of that. You didn’t think Jaehyun noticed you, not until he shyly asked how you liked the game the next time you met.
“You know,” Mijoo speaks up thoughtfully, humming against her utensils before putting them down the metal tray and looking you in the eyes. “It’s okay to let people close. Even if it doesn’t last forever, wouldn’t that be still better than wondering about the what ifs?”
For the longest time you thought that no, it wouldn’t but you glance at Jaehyun and how he shines brighter than the Sun but hides so many moonlit parts of himself that you’re privileged to know and you think that maybe, just maybe it’s okay to let yourself be vulnerable with some people.
The last day of school brings so much snow that the entire school yard is covered in cloud-like white and even the teachers give up preaching about life lessons after lunch hour. A bunch of eighteen year olds run to the field as if you were still kids and it’s that moment when it dawns on you that maybe it’s really the last time you can be freely child-like without adult responsibilities would weigh you down. Maybe that’s why you don’t protest that much when Jaehyun finds you and drags you outside to join the fierce snowball battle. For once, you don’t care about the looks you might get, you don’t care about potentially being put in the center of attention just by being with him, you don’t care about what it means to your future and you have never felt lighter.
You have snow in your hair, cold sweeping into your bones through your soaked shoes and your cheeks still hurt from laughing when later Jaehyun suggests going to your mom’s for hot chocolate to warm up. You agree easily and follow him inside to get your stuff. You shake snow off your coat, trying to warm up your cold-bitten hands by rubbing them together when you notice that Jaehyun abruptly stopped beside you.
Confused, you turn back to look at him just to see him stare down at his phone, his smile long lost from his face. You’re not sure whether it’s your place to even ask what happened, not when Jaehyun finally meets your eyes and he looks like he just saw a ghost. All pale and eyes glossy.
“They…” He starts but his voice breaks before he could get the sentence out. “They rejected me.”
“What?” You ask, dumbfounded. You watch as a drop of snow slides down Jaehyun’s face, leaving a tear-like trace behind on his flushed face and your heart aches before you can really process what’s going on.
“SNU. I just got the rejection email,” the boy mutters and lets out a way too forced laughter. He reaches to his messy locks with trembling fingers, scattering snow everywhere as he takes a shaky breath and starts walking up and down anxiously.
You just stand there, frozen, your heart sinking at the sight of him. There’s frustration and disbelief and bitterness as a scoff scratches his throat. You can see him fighting tears, not wanting to fall apart, not here, not in front of you, maybe not ever.
It was his dream, getting into SNU, and everybody told him he could do it, that for him it would be easy and while it’s flattering, people’s trust in his abilities, it still put him on pedestal, under such pressure that it almost broke him and now you can see him being crushed down from the same weight.
You don’t know what makes you do that, from where you take the courage but suddenly you stand in front of him, stopping him in his pacing, and take his shaking hand in yours.
“How… how will I tell my parents? What‒” Jaehyun gasps for air and you can feel him squeeze your hand for support as he struggles to fill his lungs with oxygen. “What do I… do now? I don’t… I didn’t…”
“Shh,” you slide a hand over his nape, massaging the tight muscles there in a weak attempt to calm him down before he could drive himself into hyperventilation. He’s so tense from the sheer effort to not break down, tear drops clinging to his eyelashes, blurring his vision. “Just let go. It’s okay.”
“No,” Jaehyun pushes back, stubborn but he’s clinging to your hand like a lifeline.
“It is. It’s just me,” you insist because you don’t judge, not for this, never for something like this. “I’m here.”
That’s all it takes for Jaehyun to give in and his tears start falling. You can feel when tension leaves his body and he all but crashes into you, his broader form slumping against you with his forehead on your shoulder, crying into your neck. You put a hand over his back, rubbing soothing patterns against his spine.
You don’t know how long you stay there. You wait until Jaehyun’s quiet sobs die down and his breathing slowly normalizes, until he pulls away enough to look into your own teary eyes. You know you couldn’t say anything to calm the mess in his head because you can’t quite understand how much this lost opportunity means for him, so you don’t tell him frivolous things like how it’s not the end of the world.
“You will be okay,” you whisper, quiet and sacred like a wish. “You don’t have to figure out how, not right now.”
A week later you graduate.
Myung Jaehyun stands on the podium in front of the lines of students and seated parents. He has a pledge of honors students on his suit and a bouquet of flowers in hands, an offer from another still prestigious university in his inbox and his parents, proud, in the crowd. His speech makes you feel nostalgic and when your eyes meet, a small smile appears on his lips, imperfect but happy, so pretty. You watch him and feel yourself smile too. Maybe it’s not actually that bad; being seen.
→ AFTER
Contrary to what you expected, Jaehyun stays as a permanent fixture in your days even after graduation. He hangs out at the café, sometimes stays even after closing, helping you put the chairs onto the tables and watching you learn how to make coffee and latte art. Sometimes you go to theatre plays or to the cinema, he invites you out to help him buy a present for his mother and then buys you hotteok as thanks.
Then university starts and he gets busier but you can tell that he doesn’t let school work bury him under like it did in high school. It’s good for him, starting fresh in a place where nobody knows him and his perfect student reputation. It’s less pressure on him and he can form genuine friendships without the fear that he’s approached only because of his influence as school president or his diligent note taking.
“I met this guy in Sociology class and he just asked if I wanted to be friends out of the blue. He invited me to hang out with him and his friends over the weekend. It was so random but it felt nice,” he says one day, leaning against the mop in his hands. You hum, letting him know that you’re listening even while cleaning the countertop. Apparently he and Sungho bonded over football, so they made plans to play one of these days.
“That’s good. You love football,” you note lightheartedly when you move to take the mop from him, checking if he missed any spots but of course he didn’t.
“Yeah,” Jaehyun hums, fixing his hair now that his hands are free and he turns after you when you walk farther to put the cleaning tools away. “I wanted to ask if maybe you wanna come along? To watch?”
You freeze, avoiding looking at the boy. You do want to watch him play but being with strangers isn’t really something you’re comfortable with, even if he’s there, even if he says they’re cool. Jaehyun knows you enough though and he can tell you hesitate, so he adds:
“You can bring Mijoo too if you want. And I’m thinking of inviting Donghyun too because Sungho also has younger friends.”
Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad. At least you would know people other than Jaehyun too. Maybe it would be fun.
“I will think about it,” you promise and Jaehyun beams almost as if you already said yes. He’s humming along to the music from the radio while you make sure everything is ready for closing. These days your mother lets you do so a few days a week just as she’s more comfortable with the idea of actually employing you.
Once the lights are switched off and the door is closed, Jaehyun walks you to the staircase leading to the upper floors where you live and for some reason he looks nervous standing in front of you. You lift your hand to wave him goodbye and tell him to take care on his way home like always but he beats you to it with a rushed out question.
“Do you wanna go to the movies this Friday after your shift?”
“Yeah, sure,” you reply easily, without hesitation because it’s him, just him, and you’re comfortable with him even if he sometimes makes your heart beat irregularly. Like right now when he blinks, all puppy-like and licks his dry lips to clarify.
“I mean… like a date?”
“Oh,” you mumble and feel air punched out of your chest as you process the information along with the unsure tilt of Jaehyun’s words. He really does look nervous. You make him nervous.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to make things weird between us but sometimes it already feels like we’re dating and I have to stop myself from holding your hand or… khm, so like I just wanted to put it out there,” he stops his own rambling, eyes darting everywhere before finally settling on you, his words filling you with warmth. “That I like you.”
“Okay,” you let out a long exhale, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your light cardigan, then clear your throat. “What… what are we watching?”
“Wait, is that a yes? To the date?” Jaehyun asks with widened eyes and a grin so wide you can’t help but chuckle fondly.
“Yeah,” you nod shyly, pink painting your cheeks under the yellow hue of the lights. “And you can hold my hand.”
You were fine alone but if it’s Jaehyun, you don’t mind taking risks.
#boynextdoor x reader#bnd x reader#boynextdoor imagines#myung jaehyun x reader#bnd jaehyun x reader#boynextdoor angst#stories
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Spending your birthday with them.
Include:
Genshin Impact [ Alhaitham, Wriothesley, Heizou ]
Honkai: Star Rail [ Aventurine & Veritas Ratio ]
Persona 5 [ Akechi Goro ]
Moriarty the Patriot [ William James Moriarty & Fred Porlock ]
Content Warning: fem!reader, I'm sorry for men that may read this! If you easily switch pronouns in your mind then go ahead, but there's mention of the reader wearing a dress at some point! (kind of irrevelant though, so I think you can imagine something else then?), pet names and.. that's all i think-. it's just a fluff so...
may's note: im so sorry i took so long to come back!! ive got a lot on my plate recently, i had planned another oneshot to come out but but BUUT!! My best friend's birthday is right around the corner when I write this (aha just a day before.. hi..) so im writing this for her, with her favourites and some that i know she loves <3 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!! I HOPE YOULL HAVE AN AMAZING DAY AND THAT YOU GOT THAT PLUSH YOU WANTED TO GO WITH AVENTURINE!! ive kinda rushed this to come out ngl, because its been a month im like "i have the time" until i didnt have time anymore.. sorry if it sucks :(
This artwork has been made by susucre! Do not steal/use it! every other used for the headers are official arts!
Even if he doesn't want to, he has duties now. Or at least, unexpected duties. But you can be sure Alhaitham always makes some time for you. How can he not? You're his sweetheart. Well, he isn't one to give sweet names but he still thinks so.
However, how could've you expect him to forget about your birthday? It's once a year, and he doesn't really care much about them usually. But we're talking about you. Of course he can't forget about it. He wants you happy, and he knows you'd hate if he doesn't at least wish you a happy birthday.
But what was your surprise when you find him still in bed, beside you, his right arm drapped over you as he reads from the other. Isn't he supposed to be at work, at the Akademiya? You don't even have the time to inquire, he saw your eyes fluttering open.
“Good morning.„ he briefly looks over you, before focusing back onto his book. But he strokes your side with his hand gently. He isn't much of a talker, but his small gestures are everything, aren't they?
He rapidly finishes his page, and places the book down to turn to you. “I'll let you take a shower and I'll prepare you breakfast.„ you can't even reply that he's already out of bed and heading to the kitchen. You'll just have to go shower.
It's your special day. Of course you'll wear a pretty dress, you want to feel extra pretty for today. When done, you head to the living room, finding him waiting for you to eat. It isn't a feast, but more than enough for the both of you. The silence is comfortable, only your breathing.
“Where are you going?„ he inquires when he sees you about to open the front door. You thought you'd go on a walk. “I haven't overworked myself for a week so I could have a full day off for you to ditch me, you know?„
It wasn't much, maybe even a bit offensive for some. But the idea that he paid attention enough to be certain to have a complete day off for you is enough to make you smile. And so, you chuckle and walk towards him.
“The weather is nice. It's sunny. We should go out together, don't you think?„ you tilt your head, waiting for his approval.. or for a compromise.
“It is. It's the perfect weather to do nothing at all. Or to read next to a window.„ without further notice, he stands and pulls you with him to the nearby window. Making you sit in his lap, he pulls out a book and rests his chin on top of your head.
“Maybe it isn't the best birthday you'll ever have, but I hope my company is enough.„ he isn't necessarily insecure, far from it even. But it's your special day. He just wants to make you happy, doesn't he?
And even if he says so, just reading in his lap with him, is enough. Spending time with him makes it nicer. Leaning further into his chest, you sigh and start to read with him. He's careful to wait for you, to ensure you finished before he actually turns the page.
He'll take breaks from time to time to make you both a drink, or to let you talk a bit. It isn't partying, but being able to spend the day together, reading and talking, without him possibly thinking about his duties is a luxury he doesn't always allow himself.
And he's more than glad for it to be with you.
∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒˚ ◌༘♡ ⋆。˚ ꕥ⋆·˚ ༘ *︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚༊*·˚
Until now, Wriothesley was used to stay in the Fortress most of his time. It never bothered him. Sigewinne keeps him company, and his prisoners aren't too bad most of the time. Even Neuvillette or Clorinde comes visit him from time to time.
But it changed when he met you. He didn't want you to be that often in the Fortress, and yet he couldn't help but want you. You don't know it, but he even asked Neuvillette for your birthday. It has never been that much of a talk in between you. You were both kind of over it after all. You aren't toddlers for who it is extremely important to get one year older.
But he wants your first birthday with him to be special, to be something you'd remember. He wants to make this day amazing. And for that, he had to have permissions and ensure the paperwork was done before that day. He had to be prepared for any possibility, to be called in for an emergency if someone tried to escape, or if they get overwhelmed and for your day to be ruined.
But he was willing to take that risk.
On your occasional weekly visit, you both talk and drink tea together, as any other time. You're not sure when, yet now, he has you in his arms, holding you close. It is as if he believed you were leaving. He's quick to compose himself and just steals a kiss from you, to hide his worries behind that smirk he always has when he surprises you.
“By the way, I've heard your birthday is soon, isn't it?„ you raise an eyebrow. You haven't told him, yet he knows. “Would you like us to spend the day together?„
You were so sure he meant inside the Fortress of Meropide, that when he mentioned that it wouldn't be there, but in the city, your eyes widened. Of course, you firstly worried about his work. It isn't like he's just a guard who could take a day off or a sick day. He has a prison to keep in place.
But he assured you it'd be alright. And so you trust him. There's no reason for you not to.
Your birthday was soon to come, and you waited for him in front of the Fortress' entrance. Dressed in a pretty outfit, that you kept on for this occasion, you obviously felt amazing. And upon seeing you, Wriothesley grinned. “Someone made herself extra beautiful for today.„
His tone flirty, he wraps his left arm around your waist and pulls you close, pressing his lips on your hair. “It suits you perfectly. But you're always beautiful.„ his words meant the world to you.
And so began the day. Wriothesley is careful, meticulous even. He makes sure you stay hydrated, well fed and have fun. If you want a pastry, he'll buy it without a second thought. This piece of jewerly looks pretty on you? He'll offer it to you, no matter the cost.
It's weird for everyone to see the Duke out of the Fortress. He's respected for sure, and well known. You hold hands all day long, sometimes stealing kisses when you're in a alley or when no one's looking.
When the sun fades away to let the moon takes place, stars show up too. Now sitting near the water, you both look up at the navy blue sky. Wriothesley lets out a sigh and clears his throat. “I hope you had fun. I'm not sure when I'd be capable to have such a long time outside the Fortress without it being work related.„
Sure or not, you're just happy he manages to have time for you. And he's relieved everything went smoothly. He leans closer to you, his lips grazing your cheek. “Happy birthday.„
And even if it has caused him some stress, he's ready to do it over again next year if it makes him see your eyes so sparkly and shiny with delightment and happiness.
He'd risk anything to see you smile and hear your laughers echoing in his ears.
-ˏ͛⑅ ‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹。ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ‧̫‧ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙ ⑅ˏ͛-
The good part of being a detective is that he knows how to not leave any clue about his true intentions. And so, he can surprise you whenever he wants and you won't even realise he has planned it for a while!
Since Heizou can hardly take a day off recently, you agreed it'd be better if you spend the day with your friends and just leave your evening for him.
It was an amazing day, your friends and you strolled around the city, went to some fancy places and just spoiled you entirely. But it felt off, knowing that Heizou wasn't with you like you wished he could've.
They dropped you by your house, and with a sigh, you stepped inside. Of course Heizou wasn't home yet. It wasn't surprising, he's quite overwhelmed with work lately. Yet there was a small disappointment in your chest. Your heart was a bit heavier. But you brush it off.
By the time he gets home, you had just finished preparing dinner. He steps closer with that shitty grin and clears his throat. “Such a sweetie, making dinner when I hoped I'd have time to treat you today.„ of course, he doesn't want you to do any effort for today, but his schedule decided otherwise.
And so, with a swift movement, he shoves a bouquet against your chest. “I know it isn't much compared to how it could've been nicer to spend the day together, but I hope it'll make it up for it a bit.„
Heizou has always been a romantic at heart, he loves it when he sees your cheeks flushing and feels your breath growing faster from his teasing. And he's delighted to see that sweet blush spreading slowly.
Leaning in close, he takes your hands in his, and presses a chaste kiss on your lips. “Let's eat dinner and enjoy the time we have tonight, alright? I need to make it up for you.„
He lets you take care of the bouquet first, ensuring it won't die just yet. He teases you about your day, plays with you some games and even let you win for once. And needless to say the night ends in something.. more than just flirt and teasing.
But he hopes next year won't be as busy, so he can treat you like the princess you are in his eyes.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *. *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ☽ ✧˖*°࿐ .* :☆゚. ───
A gambler. That's what he'll always be no matter what, no matter the day. He needs to work every single day, to be a good asset for the IPC. He can't afford losing. He will never accept it.
But today, Aventurine thought it'd be nice to let you experience gambling too. Well, not as much as he usually does, but more in a regular casino. He's obviously well known here, and has some free drinks. But he wants you to enjoy it too.
He teaches you how to do, the ropes of each games. To guess when to stop, and more importantly of course, to understand the rules and that losing can cost a lot. But deep down, Aventurine doesn't give a fuck about how much money you'll lose. He has way more than someone can think of.
Each games were fun, but you hated seeing those girls eyeing him like you don't exist. Don't they see you, the gorgeous girl sitting next to him, with who he holds hands? Or perhaps they don't care. But it frustrates you.
Even more so when one comes closer and accidentally spills wine on Aventurine's jacket. He doesn't react at first. But he grows more and more impatient as she tries to clean her mess.
But he got fed up when she literally sat in between the both of you. Who does she think she is? “Excuse me, Miss,„ with a dry chuckle and bright smile, he stands up and walks behind her, “don't you see her?„
Swiftly, almost as if he has always been ready for it, he pulls you close, your head resting on his chest. Your face flushes bright red of course, but you don't say anything. “She already holds the string. And compared to you, she doesn't care about my money. So if you please, do not dare to bother us further on her special day.„
He leads you away, and yet, casts them a last glance, “Except if you want to face the consequences, that is. But I doubt you would like it.„
He'd never let anyone makes you feel inferior, nor worthless, and even less when it's supposed to be your day. The day he caters to your every need without any complaint or question.
Upon arriving to a new game, away from those nuisance, he holds your hand in his, pressing his forehead against yours. “I'm sorry, darling. But I promise you, you're the only one in my eyes. The prettiest, the cutest, and the most loveable woman I've ever set my eyes on.„
He'd cherish you. He knows the pain, and he wants to keep you away from it. He struggles at time, but every effort is worth of your smile. Every day is a delight to get home to you, to know you're his, and that he's yours.
That he has a home. A home with you.
☆.。.:* ❥ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ☽ .。.:*☆
What were you thinking when you first confessed to him? Of course you thought he'd reject you. We're talking about Veritas Ratio. But to your surprise, he accepted! But maybe you should've been careful... He's a teacher.
It isn't uncommon for Veritas Ratio to call you stupid or dumb, because you don't understand something or that you made a mistake on something simple. But you also know he'll always be here for you.
Compared to one of his colleage, he isn't particularly rich. Don't get me wrong, he is completely financially stable, and he won't be anytime soon the type to get ruined. But basically, if you need special teaching in something he doesn't master, he won't hesitate to help you with it.
He can't help but put intellect into a bit everything he does. But he knows it can piss you off at times, especially when it's not the moment for it.
Today, he has a long day. Longer than intended. So you nicely bring him lunch. Yet he requests of you to stay until his break is over. You know he isn't one to care about birthdays, but he does remember them if he is supposed to know them. Yours is no exception.
“I'm going to be home later than usual tonight, but perhaps you have any wish for how we spend our time?„ it isn't often that he lets you so openly choose. But you don't wait more time to ask if you could watch a movie and snuggle. You need nothing more than some rest, and so does he.
Laughers fill the empty classroom, except for the both of you. He knows when to not overdo it, especially with you. He will never admit it entirely, but he doesn't want to risk losing you. He can't. Not when you bring him so much by just existing.
There's a reason why he doesn't want you to be to close to that blonde, don't you think? But it doesn't matter.
In the evening, after you shared dinner, you set on the couch with him, snuggling up. His left hand caressing your side while his right one is holding a pen. Of course he can't only watch a movie, he needs to keep on going with his paperwork. But he doesn't entirely focus on it.
However, from time to time, you'd hear from Veritas that he clicks his tongue. He seems rather.. unpleased. And when you take a look, you don't see anything wrong. “Of course you don't, you're too much of an idiot to realise that student's mistake. What a pity.„
Unfortunately for you, you dared to ask what was the mistake.. and now you're in for a lecture. He sits you up and explains to you, in a rather annoyed tone. It isn't a surprise to say that you both don't even noticed when the movie has finished.
You're about to stand up when he holds you back, pulling you in his lap. “Don't you dare run away from my lecture. You asked to know, so you'll know.„ It promises to be an interesting evening and night, especially if you try to push your luck.
Veritas will make sure you get the appropriate punishment if his patience runs out by the time he's done with you.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ੈ✩‧₊˚ೃ⁀➷˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚.ೃ࿐
Have you ever imagined he'd steal your heart? A detective by day, a Phantom Thief by night. He earned his title well, he's definitely a prince in your eyes.
“Are you still listening?„ Akechi inquires. You have to admit, you weren't. You were too charmed into his eyes, shining as he shares his day with you.
“I've been thinking, there's an amusement park not far from here. Would you like to go with me?„ he asks. He isn't really scared of asking you on a date anymore. Of course, he couldn't help but feel like he isn't enough at times. But you love him, right? He can't let his insecurities win over.
And so, you are now on a date with him, on your birthday. He cares for a bit everything. He makes sure the sun isn't hitting you too hard, that you drink enough, and especially have fun.
You're the only one lucky enough to see him almost constantly out of his detective prince persona. To know the real him. He has his issues, and sometimes he may snaps at you. But he apologises and proves that he changes. He already does, but he tries to make sure you know he's willing to become better for you.
You're his light, and he can't lose you. At first, he even thought you loved that coffee shop's employee, but he felt lucky when you reciprocated his feelings.
Since then, Akechi would take you out often. To the beach, at restaurant, or even just for a walk. He wants you to know he cares, and he wants you only. He needs to be careful though, but he makes it work out.
Getting into a bit every attractions, he even ends up winning you a teddy bear. No one is ever too old for one after all, right? As he hands it to you, he presses a kiss on your lips, soft and tender, as if he wants the time to stop.
The sun sets slowly, and you get into the Ferris Wheel to end up the day. It's cozy, just the two of you. He holds you close, his nose in your hair as he breathes in your scent. “Happy birthday, my love.„
Why would he need to say anything more? Your heart races, and you look up at him with a sheepish smile. No one can mistake that expression on both of your faces. You're so undeniably in love with each other.
“I know I fucked up, especially when you discovered what I've done. But I'll become better. For you, and for us. So please, stay with me.„ he couldn't help but squeezing you tighter against him, as if you won't allow him time.
“I love you. So fucking much.„ he whispers as the sun disappears from view, letting the moon rise slowly. He'll always do his best for you, to be worthy of you.
Because he loves you. And he'll make every birthday from now on special for you.
·:¨༺ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ✮ ☄. *. ⋆ ༻¨:·
It took him time to allow himself to be vulnerable in front of you. To allow you to see the worst part of him. To see the monster beneath. He was certain he'd lose you. And yet, you're still here, beside him.
William is more than delighted to know you aren't ready to leave him. To know you'll stay. He doesn't entirely understand his feelings himself, but he has them, and that's all that matters.
To say William cares about birthdays is an understatement. He doesn't make big things, but he shows his care for sure. So don't you dare think you'll be an exception.
He has been quite busy lately, but he made sure he'd be here for your birthday. From waking to sleep. He stays in bed with you until you stir awake. Your eyes flutter open, the first sight being his blonde locks.
He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead and lets you get ready while he goes preparing breakfast for you. Going downstairs, you smell the sweet scent of food filling your nose.
He serves you, as well as himself, before eating and letting you talk of whatever comes in your mind. He could listen to you all day long, but today wasn't that. He'd spend some quality time with you, no matter what.
He helps you putting on your coat, and holds your hand as you get inside the carriage. He feels your head resting on his shoulder, and he simply caresses the back of your hand with his thumb.
Getting into town, he dismisses the carriage for now. No need for that. He wants you to enjoy the place. If there's something appealing to you, he'll be ready to let you have it. But in the end, he's mostly the one who wants to buy you things.
A beautiful necklace, it'd go perfectly around your neck. Gesturing you to get closer, he carefully puts it around your neck and smiles. “It looks beautiful on you.„ his voice, smooth and quiet, holds so much love. Without hesitation, he buys it for you.
You walk hands in hands, past bakeries and shops, stopping when something would be nice for you. You're definitely spoiled, and it was unexpected for you. You aren't with William for his money, and he knows it. But today, he wants to make sure you'll remember it.
By the evening, inside the carriage to get back home, he lets you rest against him. It has been a tiring day after all, yet so thrilling. But the best was to come in his eyes.
Entering the manor, the living room has been decorated especially for you, a bouquet from Fred's garden waiting as well as a freshly baked cake by Louis. And they were all here too. Well, some like Sebastian aren't so happy, but they could make that effort.
He has planned it all, and it was worth it. For that smile, those happy tears, and those laughers and happiness filling the manor for the rest of the evening.
⋆˚。⋆୨୧˚︵‿︵‿୨✧༺♥༻∞୧‿︵‿︵‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
He has never been much of a talker. Ever since you both met, he mostly listened to you, no matter what you'd say. And he has a great memory too.
Fred is a caring man, he just stays quiet. He doesn't want to be noticed, he likes his tranquility, despite the circumstances of his current work under William. He absolutely adores the idea of being in charge of the garden, though.
He doesn't show it, but he appreciates plants and flowers. And whenever you may search him, you always find him there. He's peacefully repotting some flowers, to make sure they can grow further.
His head snaps up when you ask him if you can help. “Shouldn't you.. be with the others, celebrating your birthday..?„ he's unsure. He looks at you with suspicions, but in the end, he relents. You must have your reasons to not be celebrating it with them.
He loves spending time with you, but he doesn't want you to restrain yourself from having a good time just because he's tending to flowers.
But when he sees you, right here, with a smile as you carefully move a flower, it feels him with joy. He doesn't show his love much, he does it through small gestures like making sure there's always some of your favourite flowers in the bedroom for the scent. Or to stay with you throuhough breakfast.
It's those small gestures that makes you love him even more each day. And you just want to spend time with him, especially today.
He shyly scoots closer to you, to correct you. “You shouldn't be doing it like that.. it can hurt the roots.„ he doesn't scold you, he just tries to teach you.
Yet, he doesn't move away once done. He stays close. Until he gathered the courage to press his lips against your temple. “Happy birthday.„
It's cute, the way he quickly walks away to care for other plants. But you just thank him quietly. The day passes in a blur, and without even noticing, the moon is in the sky, and you're both still in the greenhouse.
He holds you tight against him, the garden not over yet but it's too late to keep working. And he has cut a rose to give you, making sure to also cut the thorns so you can't get hurt.
“We should head back inside, it's getting cold.„ he helps you up, until you're both home. He even helps to wash your hands, in your sleepy state.
He never thought he'd enjoy gardening with someone so much, and yet..
૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.
/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuchi's property. do not repost, copy or translate without permission.
#/ᐠ - ˕ •マ ⳋ's writing#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#heizou shikanoin#genshin alhaitham#wriothesley genshin impact#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr aventurine#veritas ratio#yuukoku no moriarty#moriarty the patriot#william james moriarty#x reader#fem reader#persona 5#goro akechi#akechi x reader#ratio x reader#aventurine x reader#alhaitham x reader#wriothesley x reader#heizou x reader#william moriarty x reader#fred porlock#fred porlock x reader
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Sooo, I had the amazing experience of attending a panel C.S. Pacat was part of during the Sydney Writers’ Festival on 25th May 2024. The panel was called “Creating a Monster” (with two other YA authors).
And finally a week later (because adult-ing is hard), I had time to actually go through my notes and write up some of the fascccccinating things Pacat had to say about: monsterous heroes, and villains, and enemies-to-lovers deliciousness, and queer identity!
I didn’t want to forget some of the interesting things said in this panel and thought others might be interested in hearing about them too? Please indulge the splurge. :)
(Please note that all bold headers are just my thematic summary of each section for people to jump to, not the actual question asked.)
WHAT APPEALS ABOUT ‘THE MONSTROUS’ TO PACAT:
From a technical writing standpoint, the ‘Monstrous’ is appealing because a villain will often do an act and the hero reacts to that. It gives unconscious clues to the reader that when the villain turns up, something exciting is going to happen. In that sense, villainous characters have a special sort of ever-present attention given to them (possibly because human nature is to always keep one eye on the dangerous thing that could harm you).
On a personal level: A) When queer characters are awesome but also ‘Monstrous’, Pacat says it can feel really ‘electric’ and empowering to reclaim/allow yourself to embrace the monster role that you’ve been told you fit into by society. Like in Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles where queer people are allowed to be beautiful/glittering & powerful & witty & have existential conversations about good and evil while fitting under the Monstrous label. Like heck yeh, that’s cool. And B) as an author, you can feel a ‘minority pressure’ to have characters be Good all the time and be the perfect ambassador for that minority, but sometimes you just want to be a vampire and take over the world, you know?
THE EXISTENCE OF ‘PROTAGONIST-CENTRED MORALITY’ WITHIN THE DARK RISE BOOKS:
When pondering whether it is hard as a writer to convince readers that a Monstrous protagonist is a likeable character, Pacat pointed out that the funny thing is that the question ‘How am I going to make readers like this monster?’ never really ends up being an issue because people actually really like monsters! The thing you might not expect is that the struggle is actually: ‘How am I going to make these readers who are barracking for the protagonist feel that this ‘monster’ is actually monstrous?’
Pacat explained that when a protagonist is also a monster, it brings into play something called ‘Protagonist-Centric Morality’ -- where you bond with that protagonist and want the best for them etc, so much that it can obscure when the protagonist is actually doing something bad. Pacat mentioned that he has found the Protag-Centric Morality fairly striking in the case of the Dark Rise books because people have said to him things like: ‘The Dark King Did Nothing Wrong Ever In His Whole Life’ and Pacat questioned whether the moral centre of the story was landing somewhere different than intended. He was curious whether the other authors had experienced that with their ‘monstrous’ protagonists too.
IF A HERO IS ALSO MONSTROUS, HOW ON EARTH DO YOU DIFFERENTIATE THAT FROM THE VILLIAN? When pondering over the distinction between a Monstrous Hero and a Villain, Pacat shared some thoughts from his lived experience. He said the times when he has felt most threatened by the ‘Monstrous’ is when that person isn’t clearly identifiable to others around you; where there isn’t a shared understanding between everyone that ‘yes, that person is a monster’. Extending from that, the Truly Monstrous is when that person has some kind of control over you and control over the narrative as well; if the monster is the one telling the story but casting you as the monster. Essentially gaslighting via ‘narrative control’.
ENEMIES TO LOVERS TROPE:
This is Pacat’s absolute favourite romantic trope. And he elaborated that he doesn’t mean that in the sense of ‘these characters sort of don’t like each other’, but rather to the point where two characters really hate each other and for a very good reason. He likes when a path between two characters feels IMPOSSIBLE to overcome.
This trope was first explored in the Captive Prince trilogy and Pacat loved it so much he just had to use it again for the Dark Rise trilogy. The planning behind it for CaPri was brainstorming: ‘What is the worst thing I could think to use?’ (Answer: Killing a character’s brother, which lands the bereaved character into a set of hellish circumstances.) But that meant when Pacat decided to use it again for DR, he had to extend that to: ‘Now I need to think of something EVEN WORSE THAN THAT (CaPri)’ in order to separate the main characters. So Pacat had to spend ages thinking about what could be the absolute worst thing to use this time -- and he hopes that he came up with something that is ‘truly, truly way worse.’ Which essentially had everyone, including the moderator, laughing loudly in fear. XD
WILL KEMPEN: FOUND FAMILY & THE LONELINESS OF INAUTHENTICITY:
Pacat spent a lot of time trying to develop a really meaningful platonic friendship between Will and Violet. It meant a lot to see a friendship like that reflected on page for Pacat because some of the most important friendships of his life were across gender lines. The reception to Will and Violet has been so pleasantly surprising, so Pacat supposed he wasn’t the only one with a hunger for that kind of friendship within the romantasy genre.
Pacat also reflected on Will’s complex relationship with his Found Family -- that having the support of a Found Family can be so essential, but in Will’s case that lifeline is undermined by secrecy, turning that Found Family into a different kind of loneliness. Because the thing is: if something so immense happens to you that you feel you can’t talk about, or you feel some way about yourself but think you can’t share that with others, it means you can’t really be your authentic self. But if you’re not being you’re authentic self, who are your friends friends with? They can’t be friends with the true You; they can only be friends with a facade/with a performance. So as long as Will is scared to show his true self and remains hiding himself away from even his friends, he will be alone. It’s a hard step to take. (Note from me: so heavvvvy but poignant.)
NOT DR-RELATED, BUT PACAT’S FAV MONSTERS FROM POPULAR FICTION: Pacat was so excited to namedrop his favourite monsters from popular fiction, he volunteered to go first LOL. The answers: 'The Brat Prince' Lestat (Lestat has been on his mind a lot recently because the AMC TV portrayal captures Lestat so well & has completely rejuvenated Pacat’s 12 year-old love of vampires. Total mood); serial killers such as in the Ripley series; and simply: American Psycho.
Great panel, right? Now it’s Europe’s turn!
#CS Pacat#Dark Rise#Dark Heir#Will Kempen#Pacat's brand of enemies to lovers is lethal and we love him for it#Also: Will & Violet bffs for life please and thank you#I would ask Pacat to start a podcast for all these interesting thoughts#but obviously we just need DR3 more than anything haha#(And we need the CaPri news but that is a different matter altogether ;))
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Chapter Four: The Dungeon Master and Depression
***BEFORE YOU READ ANY FURTHER THERE IS GOING TO BE SEX, HEAVY BDSM THEMES, AND OTHER GENERAL NSFW THINGS. IF YOU ARE A MINOR/A BLANK BLOG/ A BLOG WITH NO AGE PLEASE DO NOT INTEREACT! IF I SEE IT, I WILL BLOCK IMMEDIATELY! THANKS!<3***
Pairing: Professor! Steve Harrington x Best Friends Dad! Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Angst, alcohol consumption, Steve needs a hug, sad Steve, Eddie being the literal sexiest man on the planet, daddy kink, spit kink, spanking, cum eating, squirting, bondage, masterbation, Dom! Eddie, dirty talk, pet names, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), BDSM themes, Eddie and Steve are in their early to mid 40s and reader is in her mid 20s
Summary: Eddie shows you a side of him you haven't seen before and things with Steve take a turn for the worst
Authors Note: Hi yall, i just wanted to say thank you for all the love on this series so far, ive really enjoyed writing it! also im very nervy about posting this chapter bc the smut is intense! i prommy it wont always be this intense but anyways ENJOY :D 9k
**Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Five**
(banners and headers by @cafekitsune)
The next few days were spent mostly consoling Violet, she had made the decision to break up with Quinn. She didn’t trust them anymore and you didn’t blame her. You and Eddie took turns holding her when she cried or getting her to shower and eat food. It left little time for you and Eddie to spend time alone, never getting the chance to finish what you started after your date.
You could steal kisses here and there, but no heavy petting. It was driving you insane, it was like the universe was punishing you for dating your best friend’s dad.
After a few days she decided she needed to get out of Hawkins for a little while and went to spend a week at her mom’s. You made her promise to text her whenever she needed, and Eddie offered again to go over to talk to Quinn. She waved both of you off, reassuring you that she’d be fine. You drove her to the airport and off she went.
It made you feel guilty that you were so relieved that she had left, you felt like you were the worst best friend in the world. First dating her dad, and secondly happy she was leaving you after just having a brutal break-up.
What kind of friend are you?
You spent the next few days catching up on school, finally getting a chance to focus now that you didn’t have to worry about Violet as much. Not wanting to waste the very limited time the two of you had at Eddies, you spent the nights at his house covering the entire house in random textbooks and various versions of assignments. Sometimes the two of you would sit on the couch, he would watch tv while you studied, or you’d be in a chair out in the garage while Eddie played guitar and smoked. Or your favorite, cuddled up on his lap on his bed, Eddie silently reading a book and caressing the skin available to him.
It was perfect domestic bliss, he’d cook the two of you breakfast in the morning, and he’d come home to a homecooked meal in the evening. The only thing you were missing was his cock, mid terms were coming up and you were absolutely swamped. Spending all of your time that wasn’t spent at school, or working, was dedicated to more school. It was frying your brain.
Then one day you had finally had enough, another one of your professors had added another paper due on top of studying for all of your other exams. You had so many things you needed to get done before Thanksgiving you thought your head was going to explode.
You spent some time crying in your car that day, before walking up the driveway into Eddies house. Now a second home to you, you take off your shoes and head to Eddies bedroom and snuggling under the sheets, breathing in his scent. You hear Eddies familiar footsteps coming up the stairs into the bedroom the two of you basically shared.
“hey sweetpea-“ the rest of his greeting dying on his lips.
You feel him before you see him, he just slides into bed with you and holds you tightly against him. Then you lose it some more, crying into one of his pillows, just so stressed out. You needed all of it to go away, you didn’t want to think anymore.
He pushes the hair out of your face and wipes away your tears, “hey talk to me baby, what’s goin on? Hmm?” he questions, concern in his voice.
“It’s too much” you croak, turning over and nuzzling your face into his chest.
“Make it go away, please make it go away, my brain is so tired, I just need a break!” you sob harder into his embrace.
Eddie wrapped his arms around your body, protecting you from the outside world.
“I know baby, I know, I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry” he says calmly, leaving little kisses in your hair.
The two of you tangled up together in silence, just him touching your skin and you holding on to him for dear life. It stays like this for a few minutes. You can practically hear Eddies mind working a thousand miles a minute.
“... do you really want it to go away?” Eddie asks, almost a whisper.
You nodded feverishly into his chest, grabbing his shirt and pulling him impossibly closer to you.
“Please,” you whisper into his chest.
Eddie pulls the two of you apart so you can see his face, his eyes serious with anticipation. He caresses your cheek with his hand, running his thumb across your lips.
“I wanna show you something, you don’t have to say yes. But I think it might help.” He says, waiting for your answer.
You nod your head, ready to try anything to get your brain to calm down. He takes you by your hands, carefully getting you up and on your feet. Being so gentle with you, almost like he was afraid you’d break if he moved to quick or touched you too hard. Eddie led you down the stairs into the kitchen, right in front of the basement door.
He looked at you anxiously, you rarely if ever saw him anxious, it made your heart rate spike a little feeding off his nervous energy.
He opens the door and leads you down into the basement, immediately confused by Eddies immense anxiety. It’s just a basement, it had loads of Eddies DnD books nicely tucked away on bookshelves, a huge circular table in the middle with papers scattered all over it, and a bunch of props and miniatures that you assumed Eddie used for various DnD campaigns. Eddie meets you at the bottom of the stairs and puts his hand in yours, his eyes still timid.
“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess, I’ve been working on a new campaign.” He says while nervously scratching the back of his head. You squeeze his hand giving him some reassurance.
“Look, I know we haven’t been dating very long, but I really fucking like you. So just bear with me kay? I don’t wanna scare you off,” he states, fiddling with your fingers in his hands.
“You could never scare me off Eddie” you say plainly, having more admiration for him than almost anybody else.
With a sigh he guides you past all the DnD stuff into a hidden black door under the stairs, the door locked with a key padlock.
Eddie grabs a key off a chain that’s on his neck that he wears every day, you always thought it was just for decoration and not practical use. He turns the key into the lock and leads you into a dark room and turns on the light.
It takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the room, not really sure what you’re seeing. The walls are blood red, various toys, whips, paddles, and a saint Andrews cross leaning in the corner between two walls. At the center of the room was a bed with black satin sheets, with a black bed frame with various hooks and chains attached to it.
You look at Eddie in surprise, you didn’t expect him to have a whole fucking sex dungeon in his basement. You were impressed, you usually only read about stuff like this in your books. Never thinking that you’d actually get to experience it in real life.
“This is uh, welcome to my dungeon” he says, grandiosely waving his hands to show off the room, chuckling nervously to himself. You smile lightly at him, still your goofy Eddie.
“You can totally tell me to fuck off, and we don’t ever have to talk about this ever again, scouts honor. I just.. I thought maybe because of the books you like to read. Maybe we had uhm similar interests,” he says, closing the door behind the two of you.
You’re still in awe of what you see before you, finding something new to look at every second, you start to feel yourself getting excited. The anxiety melting away the longer you were in this room, like it was magic.
“Please say something, anything, you’re killin’ me here darlin,” he says, pulling your hand to his lips, leaving tiny kisses in their wake.
You walk farther into the room, dusting your fingers along the various toys and instruments on the wall. Eddie follows suit, rubbing his arms up and down your shoulders while you look. You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. He looks at you hungrily, waiting for your next move, you’ve never wanted him more.
“Turn off my brain Eds, please,” you beg, putting on your prettiest doe eyes.
Eddie curses under his breath and shakes his head trying to concentrate. He hugs you tightly as a thank you that you didn’t run out of the room kicking and screaming. He sits the two of you on a bench at the foot of the bed, holding your hands in his.
“Alright sweetness, I gotta lay down a few rules before we play, okay?” He says, clearly in his element. You nod, understanding what he means. Being familiar with the world of BDSM, but never getting to act on it before.
“First things first, safe words, If I ask you for your color, you respond with Green, Yellow, or Red. Green meaning you’re okay mentally and physically and I can keep going. Yellow meaning that you’re reaching your limit and I need to check in with you. Red meaning stop, you say this word and whatever scene we are doing will stop immediately and we will go into aftercare. I want you to feel safe during every single part of this, so don’t be afraid to stop a scene, okay? This is supposed to be fun for the both of us. Ya with me so far?” He smiles lightly trying to keep the tension light but letting know that he means business.
“With ya Eds,” you say with a nod of your head.
You can practically hear his heart swelling with pride. He continues to go through some more safety rules, what to do if you’re bound or gagged and can’t say a safe word. He goes through some walk throughs of what some of the various toys do, to see what piques your interest. He asks you if you know any of your hard or soft limits, you give him some basic ones, open to a lot considering you didn’t have a ton of real life experience in this department. You were starting to get a little nervous, hoping that you would live up to Eddies expectations.
He senses the panic inside you and squeezes your hands. “Don’t worry okay? You agreeing to try this with me is already a dream come true, I just want to help you feel better, help you let go.” He says sweetly.
You take a deep breath and lean back into him on the bench. He rubs his hands soothingly up and down your arms and then around your waist, tugging up the bottom of your shirt and lifting it over your head, and does the same with your leggings. He has you stand in front of him, leaving you in only your bra and underwear, your skin erupting in goosebumps when it hits the cold air.
“Beautiful,” he says breathlessly, his eyes scanning over every inch of your body. You look at him, you can see his cock already stiffening in the confines of his pants.
“Bend over for me baby,” he commands. Situating you over his lap, ass in the air, making your thoughts immediately cloud with want. You had never been in such a compromising position before and you loved it, showing yourself off to him.
“I’ll start slow, remember, any time you need to stop just say red and I’ll stop okay?” he reminds you one last time before he starts.
He readies you by palming each of your cheeks with his hands, increasing the pressure with each touch. You can already feel the heat rising in your body, your legs squirming together trying to find any sort of friction. Eddie seeing your desperation grabs your legs forcing them apart with his leg.
“You’re so fuckin cute, you’ll learn,” he warns, earning you a light slap across your left check. You gasp not expecting it, making your eyes roll back in pleasure, grinding your hips against Eddie’s clothed legs.
Two more light slaps come down on each cheek, eliciting a whimper from your lips, your hips grinding up wanting more. You can feel his length twitch underneath you with every smack, and your wetness seeping into your panties, you’d never been this desperate in your life.
“What’s your color princess, you doin okay?” he questions, genuine concern in his voice that makes your heart swell.
“Green Eds, m’ good,” you say hazily, your mind starting to cloud over.
With that confirmation he slowly increases the intensity of each slap, switching between your two cheeks. It only made you whimper louder, wanting even more. The slaps were now punishing, surely your cheeks bright pink from the abuse. You were surprised, you never thought something like this would feel so good. But you couldn’t help it, your panties now completely soaked through.
“You like that, you like when I hurt you?” he says, leaning into the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You nod wildly, not trusting your words.
You hear Eddie click his tongue, “Nuh uh pretty girl, down here you gotta use your words. Now I’m gonna ask again, you like it when I hurt you?” he demands, landing two more harsh slaps against your bottom.
“Yes, yes Eddie I like when you hurt me” you say desperately. Your body buzzing, every cell screaming with need. Your mind thinking of only him and the pain he gives you, mind completely blank.
“Good girl baby, doin such a good job” he praises, you smile at his praise, sinking further and further away from all the worries that had bothered you not a half hour ago.
He lands an especially mean slap on your right cheek pulling a loud moan out of your mouth, you can hear Eddies laugh vibrate through his chest.
“Fuck look at you baby, taking everything I give you. You’re my little pain slut aren’t you?” he mocks, tutting and rubbing at your now very red ass.
“Mhmm” you mutter brainlessly, trying to push your legs together, your clit on fire with need.
“Words pretty girl, I need words, that’s your last warning before you regret it,” he warns, gifting you another brutal slap.
“Y-yes, your pain slut, all yours,” you babble pathetically, desperate tears begging to spill from your eyes.
“Fuck me, yeah you are, C’mere let me look at you, get on your knees f’me” he says breathlessly, helping you off his lap and down between his legs. You lay your head against one of his knees, looking up at him between your eyelashes.
He brushes his hand across your cheek, rubbing your lips with his thumb. In your brainless state you allow his thumb into your mouth sucking on it while maintaining eye contact. You felt so free, knowing that he was going to take care of you, that you didn’t have to think anymore, giving up control gave your brain freedom that you wouldn’t have otherwise.
“Perfect” he utters, barely above a whisper, mesmerized by the way your mouth was sucking his thumb in, swirling the tip of his thumb with your tongue. Wanting more than just his thumb you tug on his pants and belt with your hand, but it wasn’t your turn to be in control. Eddie pulls the bottom of your chin up, straining your neck to meet his demand.
He pinches your cheeks together, forcing your mouth open wider. He takes his thumb out of your mouth replacing it with his pointer and middle fingers, seeing how deep you can put them down your throat. While maintaining eye contact, you suck his fingers all the way to the back of your throat until you choke lightly on them.
“You look so pretty with your mouth all full” he says as he leans down to leave a kiss on the side of your very full mouth.
All the praise becoming too much, squirming aimlessly in the air, whimpering around Eddies fingers. He seems to get a kick out of your desperation, cursing under his breath. All made more apparent by his very hard cock outlined in his pants.
“Alright sweet thing, climb up on the bed for me” he commands, tapping the silk sheets on the bed. You do as your told, meanwhile Eddie removes his shirt, belt, and pants. You look at him hungrily, with the playing field now level.
He sits down onto the bed next to you, pulling you into a deep kiss. Your bodies melt together, his hands everywhere, grabbing every inch of you. The two of you relax onto the bed, letting him kiss and nip and your skin, slowly taking off your bra and panties until you were completely bare in front of him.
He pulls your legs apart, not allowing you to hide any part of yourself from him. You were embarrassed by how wet you had gotten just from that act alone, he barely touched you.
Eddie curses under his breath, pulling apart your folds to see you dripping down your thighs.
“My needy needy girl”, he coos, dipping one of his fingers into your entrance, gathering some of your release on his fingers. He brings it up to your mouth, you suck in his fingers eagerly, wanting to please. Your release taste tangy and sweet, you moan around his fingers at the dirty act. Dipping his fingers back at your entrance, taking some of your release for himself, moaning around his fingers.
Focusing his attention back on you, he straddles you and puts your hands above your head and kisses you deeply. You feel him grind against your core making you buck up against him. Your groans filling the room, the tension becoming too much to bear.
“Need you eds, please,” you beg, the pressure between your legs driving you insane. That’s the only confirmation Eddie needed before taking his boxers off, sliding his throbbing cock in between your soaked folds. You wrap your legs around his back, pushing him harder against you.
He lines up his cock up to your entrance and slowly pushes in, his length pushing up against your cervix as he bottoms out. You whine, biting down on his shoulder, provoking a curse from his mouth.
“Color baby?” he asks breathlessly against your skin.
“Green Eds, really fucking green,” you grin against his shoulder, kissing the tattoo along his jaw.
Your words, diminishing the last of his resolve as he starts to thrust in and out of your heat slowly. Your eyes glass over, the pleasure being too much, you had never been so full. Not even your dildo doing half as much as Eddies cock.
“Shit, your pussy was fucking made for me, made to take my fucking cock,” he growls, biting down on a part of your neck, trying to contain his groans and whines.
You dig your claws into his back, wishing him deeper inside of you. Eddie using that as an okay to go faster, he grabs an edge of the bed frame for leverage. The wet sounds of his cock entering you drowning out your whimpers and moans.
“Uh, uh, uh, oh, fuuuckk E-eddie” you wail, your eyes rolling back and your mouth falling open.
“You like that baby, you like it when I fuck you like the little slut you are? All you needed was a few slaps on your ass for you do go dumb huh?” he mocks, pistoning harder into your core.
“Yes, yes I fucking love it, more please,” you beg, you wanted to see how much more you could handle, the pleasure building between your legs.
Eddie takes one of his hands off the bed frame, cupping the sides of your jaw with his hand.
“Open,” he demands. You obey, all rational thoughts gone long ago. Taking the opportunity, he spits sloppily into your mouth, you swallow and take what he gives your greedily.
“Atta girl, doing what your told” he sighs proudly, going back to concentrating rocking his hips against yours with vigor. You could feel yourself getting close, all of it becoming too much, the fucking, the slapping, the dirty talk, it was all perfect. You were plummeting quickly to your release, your walls spasming in anticipation.
“If you keep squeezing me like that m’ not gonna last much longer,” he confesses, leaving little kisses on your neck.
“Eds- I- fuck- I’m gonna cum- please cum in me please, need your cum,” you beg, feeling your release threatening to take over.
“Fuck,” he curses, you can feel his pace getting sloppier, fucking you through your release. Your legs shaking, mouth open in a silent scream, eyes glazed over, having the biggest orgasm you’ve ever had in your life.
Your walls clamp down on Eddie, not lasting much longer after you, spilling his seed into your waiting center. You feel his release spill out onto your thighs and sheets.
“Please tell me you’re on the pill” he mutters into your chest, sweat covering both of your bodies. You giggle and caress his hair, playing with his dark brown and greying curls.
“Yeah, ‘m on the pill,” you confirm, leaving a kiss at the top of his head. Eddie sighs thankfully on your chest, followed by a few minutes of silence from the two of you. Basking in each others after sex glow, gentle touches and light kisses.
You stay cuddled up for a while, neither of you wanted to go back to reality. The basement was like your safe place, where both of you could let go, like really let go. He saw things in you today that up until now, you had never let anyone see that side of you. He allowed you the same, taking down his walls showing you everything he had to offer.
He showed that he really cared about you, that he could take care of you even when your brain was against you. That was something you had never had before, someone who knew you and cared about you enough to help you fight the endless battles in your brain. You swore to yourself right there that you’d help him fight his battles too.
After a while he got up and got you a glass of water and a warm washcloth to help wipe you off. Your center still sensitive from your previous activities. Eddie was gentle, taking his time, making sure you were physically okay. He even put cream on your sore, soon to be bruised ass, after many many kisses that made you blush.
His teddy bear eyes looking into yours, while the two of you lay naked in bed, him painting circles on your face.
“How’s your head now baby? Better?” he asked hopeful. Tears form at the tips of your eyes, you nod your head vigorously. Your tears making Eddies eyes fill with concern.
“What baby? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” he asks soothingly.
You shake your head, trying to find the words for what you were feeling. “No no I’m fine, I’m just.. happy. My brain is so quiet, I can’t remember the last time my brain was so quiet.” You sob into Eddies chest, pulling him closer into you. He wraps his arms around you and shushes your tears, wiping them from your face leaving little kisses in their wake.
“It’s okay baby, I’m here, I gotcha” he says, comforting you with more kisses, squeezing you tighter against him. The two of you spend the rest of the night down in the basement, eventually falling asleep in each other’s arms, completely content.
When you wake up the following morning, you are still wrapped up in each other’s arms, Eddie still lightly snoring. You take this time to really take him in, his beautiful chocolate brown eyes, the laugh lines around his lips, his lips so pink and plush, the light wrinkles around his eyes, the dark curly brown hair that falls in front of his face, you didn’t know how you got so lucky. Not only is Eddie quite literally the sweetest man you had ever met in your life, but he’s also the most handsome.
You snuggle back into him, basking in his embrace. A little while later he wakes from sleep, stretching out, allowing you to get up and go to the bathroom.
“Hey little missy where do you think you’re goin?” he asks, pouting in bed patting the space where you were previously occupying.
“Just gotta pee,” you whisper, hoping maybe he will fall back asleep, but Eddie is stubborn.
“Just hold it, come back and cuddle,” he whines. You chuckle and kiss the top of his head before putting on his Metallica t shirt and heading out the door and up the stairs to the kitchen. You walk into the downstairs bathroom and gasp at the state you were left in. You still had mascara smudges under your eyes from crying and cumming, your hair was sticking up every which way, you looked a mess. And yet the beautiful man downstairs still wanted you, lucky you.
After you clean up a little and comb through your hair, you head to the kitchen to grab the two of you something to eat. You hear the basement door open, and the man you were just thinking about emerges, wearing only his boxers.
“I get to fuck the girl of my dreams AND she made me breakfast, I can die a happy man,” he remarks, enveloping you into a passionate kiss. You giggle against him, still not used how much he likes you.
“And you’re wearing my shirt,” he comments, taking a handful of your ass in each hand making you hiss, your butt still sore from the beating it received the day before.
“Just wanna touch base, everything yesterday was okay right? It wasn’t exactly what I picture our first time to be like but, I don’t regret it. You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, definitely did not disappoint,” he expresses.
“It was better than I could’ve imagined Ed, really. You were beautiful.” You confess, going on your tippy toes to steal a kiss from him.
The two of you spend the rest of the morning cuddled up on the couch eating breakfast, before you had to part ways. You had classes most of the day and Eddie had to go into the office for work.
Leaving Eddie was the hardest part of any day, but especially today. You had Steves class today, you always dreaded going after everything went down between the two of you. You wished to stay here forever.
The two of you share way too many last kisses before the two of you leave his house in your respective cars. You needed to go to your apartment before class to change, and then Sociology 101.
You waited as long as you possibly could before going into the classroom, you’ve started a routine of avoiding Steve as much as humanly possible. But when you entered the class, instead of being met by Steves sad eyes, you were met by a balding older man with grey hair. You look around at the rest of the class as you make your way to your seat, they also seem equally as confused as you. The man in the front of the class introduces himself as Professor McCarthy, he explained that he was going to take over for Steve for the time being.
“Where is Professor Harrington?” The girl who sits behind you asks, a slight whine in her voice.
“He has taken a seemingly well-deserved sabbatical,” Professor McCarthy confesses with zero empathy in his voice.
You can barely pay attention during class, your thoughts swimming threatening to drown you.
Why did he leave?
Was it because of you?
Does Robin know?
Was he forced to take a leave?
Did people find out about the two of you?
You hated to admit it, but a small part of your brain was trying to say something. Loud enough for you to hear it through the madness.
Is he okay?
You didn’t know why, but you still cared about Steve. Even though he hurt you, you wanted to know he was alright. After so many weeks of getting to know him, you knew how much being a teacher meant to him. You knew how passionate he is about the subject he teaches; it worried you that he could just leave. It had to mean something was really wrong.
The rest of the class goes by in a blur, the new professors voice conveniently very easy to drone out. You were the first one to leave the room once class was over. Speed walking down the hall, heading to the only place you knew you’d find answers.
You knock on the door to Robins office, hoping that she was in today.
“Come in!” she calls out.
She looks startled when she sees you standing in her doorway, expecting to see a student with questions about an assignment.
“Uh, hi.” You say awkwardly, still standing in the doorway.
“Hey Y/N, come in, why don’t you sit down,” she offers kindly, already knowing why you’re here.
“Where is he?” you ask bluntly.
Robin sighs before answering, her eyes moving, trying to think of the best way to explain it to you.
“He just needed a break, and the board allowed it,” she says plainly
“I wanna talk to him,” you confess, words leaving your mouth before you could think. Yes, you were upset with Steve, definitely hurt. But that doesn’t mean that you wanted him to leave his job, the both of you are adults. You feel guilty, like you’re the reason he left, and you needed closure.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea honey,” Robin says empathetically.
Your heart drops.
“Please? At least think about it, okay? I’m not mad anymore, I just, I wanna make sure he’s okay,” you admit, hoping to clear the air.
Robin nods and promises that she’ll think about it, but she didn’t seem very convincing. The following days after, dragged on, still piled high with homework. Made worse now because your new sociology professor is the worst, he talked too fast and without any tone in his voice, you caught a few students falling asleep in his class, it was that bad.
Eddie helped a lot, staying over at your house some nights to cuddle up with you after staring at your computer screen for hours on end. You felt guilty that you were so worried about Steve, when you had the perfect man in front of you. You convinced yourself it was just guilt, you just wanted to make sure he’s okay.
Then you got lucky, one morning when you walked into Robins classroom, where you usually sat was a note.
“Here’s his number, don’t make me regret it.” Was etched into the paper.
Your heart flutters in anticipation as hope fills your chest. You spend time after class thinking about the right thing to say, do you text him? Do you call him? You decide on a text, thinking a text is less daunting than calling him.
“Hey Steve, its Y/N. heard about ur sabbatical, hope ur okay” Not really sure what to say, your finger hovers over the send button for a few seconds before you send it. Immediately followed by you throwing your phone across the room.
What the fuck are you doing?
You spend the next couple of hours on your laptop doing your homework, sneaking peaks at your phone, triple checking that you hadn’t missed any messages from Steve. You reasoned with yourself that he might be on vacation or at least just busy. You try to get out of your head and focus on your homework.
The next few days you spent checking your phone every once in awhile looking for a text from Steve that hadn’t come. You were starting to get anxious, even a little worried. The semester was coming to a close, all your assignments turned in and only one mid term left to take. You had come to terms with the idea that Steve just wasn’t going to text you back, he didn’t owe you anything, I guess you’d just have to find closure on your own.
Until one afternoon, the day before thanksgiving, you get a text.
“I miss u”
You stare at your phone, double checking that the text was coming from the right number, Steve’s number. Concern floods your system, this is unlike him.
“Steve? R u okay?”
“I meszed it all up Y/N, im sry”
You’re heart now threatening to beat out of your chest, something was wrong, really wrong. You’re old enough to know when you’re getting a drunk text, what if he was out somewhere alone in this state? You needed to make sure he was okay, or at least somewhere safe.
“Steve tell me where u are, r u safe?”
“Come overrr” is all that is written, followed by a ping to an address. You grab your keys and your coat without a second thought. You get in your car and drive faster than what was probably safe, thoughts only on Steve.
When you finally get to the address, it takes you to a huge house on the outside of town. You let yourself through the gate and park in the huge driveway. You knock on the front door, it squeaks open lightly, you take deep breath and let yourself in. The house is massive, like really big, like old money big. The place is so big, you wander around for a little while searching the various extravagant rooms on the first floor until you find Steve in what you assume is the study.
He's slumped over onto his desk, his hand holding a fancy glass filled with amber liquid. You knock on the side of the door, jostling Steve from his drunk stupor.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” his words slightly slurred.
“Uh, you texted me, you gave me this address,” you feel your heart drop into your stomach, you knew this was a bad idea.
You see Steve’s bloodshot eyes search for the memory of sending you his address, raking his hands through his hair. Steve looked like he hadn’t taken care of himself for awhile, stains all over t-shirt and sweatpants. Your heart ached seeing him this way, guilt washed over you like a tsunami. This entire time you were thinking about yourself and your own closure, and not about the clearly broken man sitting before you.
“This was a mistake, I should go,” you admit before turning in the doorway to leave the way you came in.
“No, p-please wait! I- fuck everything is so fucked up I don’t know what to do anymore. Just stay.” He looks up at you through his glassy red eyes, begging you to stay.
You decide to stay, you step closer to his desk to get a better look at the state he’s in. He probably hasn’t showered in days, and he reeked of alcohol.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” is all you can think to say, you can’t stand to see him this way any longer.
Steve allows you to get him up and out of the chair, the two of you half stumble while he shows you how to get to the master bathroom. You help him get out of his clothes until he’s left in just his boxers, you do your best not to stare. Even in the state he’s in, you still fought the urge to drool at the sight of him. You turn on the hot water, and look at him sitting on the toilet almost completely naked.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he mumbles groggily.
You suck in a deep breath and let it out harshly, you had always known that. If you knew anything about Steve Harrington, you know that he couldn’t hurt a fly. But you couldn’t believe anything he was saying right now. He was still drunk, and you didn’t know how he was going to feel once he sobered up.
“Why don’t you get in the shower, and we can talk once you’re out, okay?” you reassure him, leaving the room to give him space.
His bedroom was a mess, clothes and random liquor bottles everywhere, you tidy it up the best you can before making your way back downstairs to the kitchen. The kitchen is huge, meant for a chef or someone who really likes to cook. But instead, you see containers of take out and microwave dinners piled in the over flowing garbage and more dishes crowding in the sink. You take out the garbage and do the dishes.
By the time you’re finishing up the dishes you hear footsteps pattering into the kitchen.
“Hi” he says meekly.
“Hi” you reply, placing the last dish into the dishwasher.
He stands next to you, one hand on the counter and one hand on his hip, trying to think of what to say. He opens and closes his mouth, but nothing comes out.
“It’s fine really Steve, I’m happy to help,” you confess, turning your body to face him.
Steve looks down at his hands, when he looks back up at you, fresh tears have formed on his lash line.
“I’m the worst, aren’t I?” he questions, his voice breaking.
Your heart broke with him, “No Steve, you’re not the worst. At little messed up, definitely. But far from the worst.”
He looks at you gratefully before he continues speaking.
“I- I thought you hated me. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t know how I screwed things up so badly. I’m sorry I brought you all the way out here. I just... fuck I just missed you Y/N,” he babbles, his tears now flowing down his face in little streams.
You walk a few steps closer to him, not trusting yourself to touch him.
Eddie, remember Eddie.
“I don’t hate you Steve, I could never hate you. I was just hurt and confused. Honestly, I still am hurt and confused, I just. I couldn’t bear the thought of you not teaching or being upset because of me. That’s why I came,” you reassure him, hoping your eyes show him the rest. That you do care for him, and want him to be okay.
Steve nods, mulling over your words, wiping his eyes. Then you hear some buzzing on the marble kitchen counter. Steve’s phone goes off, he looks at his phone and answers it immediately. You can hear Robins worried voice on the other end of the phone anxiously babbling questions off at him. You felt good knowing that even if you weren’t in Steves life, he still had Robin.
“No, ugh Rob I’m fine, please you don’t need to come and check on me.”
“Yes, I’ve showered. NO! Don’t bring Nancy, I don’t want her to see me like this.” He rubs his forehead, probably nursing a headache.
Steve hangs up the phone and looks at you.
“Uhm, Rob is coming over, and.. you probably shouldn’t be here when she gets here” he says awkwardly, he looks like he has more to say but decided against it.
You nod your head in understanding. Steve walks you to the front door, thanks you a million more times before waving you off as you get in your car and drive away.
You pull of on the side of the road, a few blocks from Steves place. You put your arms around the steering wheel, thinking about what just happened.
He is just a friend, someone you care about who needed your help.
You shake your head out of your thoughts and head back to your apartment. As you pull into the parking lot your phone dings, you park your car and look at the notification lighting up your phone screen.
“Come over stinky butt 🍑”
You smile at your phone, of course it’s Eddie, the one who makes you feel safe. The one you don’t have to take care of or worry about, your rock. You put your car in reverse, and drive towards Eddies house. The closer you get to Eddies house, the more every loud thought of Steve was quieting to a whisper, you sigh in relief.
“Vi?!” you say cautiously, a routine you were now used to.
Eddie pokes his head out of the kitchen, “Just me babe” a smile plastered across his face. You smile back and head into the kitchen, only to immediately be scooped up into a hug and lifted off your feet. You breathe in Eddies scent, allowing it to ground you back into your reality.
“Mmm missed you,” Eddie murmurs in between kisses. You wrap your arms around his waist, deepening the kiss.
“Missed you too Eds,” Eddie groans against you, pushing you against the counter.
The two of you kiss some more, allowing yourselves to get lost in each other. When you finally pull back you look into Eddies eyes, they just seem tired. You cup your hand around his face, and his cups your hand with his; grateful for the affection.
“Can I show you something?” he asks, only admiration in his eyes. You kiss him as a yes, and let him guide you back down into the basement. You stomach doing flips remembering the last time the two of you spent time down here. But this time he leads you into the main room. The circular table previously covered in random campaign research, now completely clean except for two stacks of paper in front a chair at the head of the table.
He pulls back the chair, next to the head and ushers you into it. You sit down, looking at him inquisitively. He sits down at the head of the table, clearing his voice before he speaks.
“So, the other day, I really liked seeing that side of you. And I wanted to know if you felt the same way, and if maybe you wanted to do it again,” he confesses, searching for the answer in your eyes. His gaze lights a fire in your belly, and a growing ache between your legs, remember the previous activities down here.
You bite your lip and look at him, trying to find the right words, “I’d like that a lot, I like when you take control,” you confide in him, nudging your leg against his under the table. Eddie takes in a deep breath before speaking again, “I just wanted to go over some more safety stuff, if we are going to really do this, and not have it be a one time thing,” handing you one of the stacks of paper in front of him.
He goes onto explain to you that this is not a contract, but more of a mostly complete list of limits that he wanted the two of you to fill out before playing again. He clarifies that the reason for this is so that neither of you ever accidently make the other feel uncomfortable during a scene. Your eyes looking over the papers curiously, overwhelmed by all the different things listed. He had to explain a few of them to you, him being more experienced than you were. You could feel the tension in the room heating up, and your panties dampening.
Finally, you’re on the last page, your knee bouncing up and down in anticipation.
“Where is Violet?” you ask, a little bit too much excitement in your voice. You see his eyes darken and a smirk splay across his lips.
“She’s working night shift” he says grabbing your chair and bringing it closer to his side, grabbing your thigh harshly.
You let out a shaky breath, you needed this, him. You go to put your hand around his neck to pull him into a kiss, but he grabs your wrist.
“Finish what I’ve asked of you pretty girl” leaving a kiss at the shell of your, evoking goosebumps across your skin.
You swallow hard, all the moisture gone from your mouth. You look back down on the paper, finishing it as fast at you can before looking back up at him for more instructions.
“Good job baby, I’m proud of you. You follow instructions so well” he praises, leaving a light kiss on your cheek. He pulls his eyes away from you for a bit, looking through all of your limits or things you are willing to try. You take this time to do the same with him, shocked by a few things, but even more turned on. Once you’re done reading you look up to see him staring at you hungrily.
“Ready to play sweet thing?” he says, pupils blown in lust.
“Ready,” you say breathlessly, willing air into your lungs.
“One more thing before we start, I like Daddy and Master, just so you know,” he winks at you, and it takes everything in you to stop your knees from buckling.
He takes you by your hand and walks with you to the secret door under the stairs. Your body buzzing, wanting to touch the man in front of you anywhere and everywhere. He opens the door and lets the two of you in. Once the door is closed, he envelops you into a deep kiss, you whimper at his lips on yours.
“Mm fuck, I love your little noises” he hisses, lifting you up by your legs and guiding you to wrap them around his waist. He sits down on the bed, leaving you to straddle his waist. The sheets were changed since you were here last, now a silky maroon color. You take the opportunity to grind your hips down on his lap while he grabs at the skin available to him, the two of you moaning into each other’s mouths. His lips tasting like the last cigarette he smoked, chasing his tongue with yours. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, the way his bulge was rubbing against your clit could make you cum right now with how worked up you are. You moan a little louder into Eddies mouth, making him pull back and look at your already fucked out expression.
“Look at you baby, already so desperate” he teases, lifting you off of him for a second to slide your leggings and panties off. He guides you back onto his lap, situating his fingers at your center, swiping them through your folds. Lifting his hands up to find them glistening with your juices.
“And already so fucking wet, such a needy little slut” he says, sticking his fingers into his mouth. You go back to grinding your hips against his bulge, not being able to help yourself, your clit aching with need.
Eddie stills your hips with his hand, grabbing at your ass and tits roughly before taking off your shirt, leaving you naked except your bra. Eddie takes this time to kiss all the skin newly available to him. You moan loudly into the open room, trying your best to obey and not rock your hips against his.
This task became harder and harder the longer his lips were on yours, kissing that spot on your neck that you like, nipping at your lips, kissing your newly exposed nipples. It was all too much, you grind your hips into his without thinking, and that’s when he swiftly turns the turns the two of you over. You can feel the silk sheets against your back, and his hands on your hips. You whine in protest, trying to rock your hips into his once more.
“Awe, my girl just can’t stay still huh? I can help with that,” He taunts, leaving you to lay on the bed, going into the little nightstand on the side of the bed.
He comes back into view holding leather cuffs in his hands, and a sinister look on your face. He takes his time kissing each of your wrists before helping you into the cuffs, doing the same thing with your ankles. You take a look at your wrists, now partially covered by the leather material, it was tight but not too tight. You feel Eddie move around you before grabbing one of your wrists in his hand lightly hearing a clicking sound as he lays it back down on the bed. You go to pick up your wrist again, realizing you can’t. You look at the head of the bed to see your cuff connected to a restraint in the frame. He continues to do the same thing with your other wrist and both of your ankles.
His stare could bore holes into skin the way that it heated you up from the inside. You struggle lightly against the restraints, trying to test how much movement you had in each limb, which wasn’t much. He sits next to you on the bed, palming your face in one of his hands.
“Color baby?” he questions.
“Green!” you say brightly, excited for the adventure ahead of you.
“Doin’ so good for me” he coos, and then his touch is gone and he’s somewhere in the room. You can hear random rustling but you can’t lift up your head enough to see what he’s grabbing.
He comes back next to you seemingly empty handed, and then he lifts up his hands to you to show you his haul. He has a single black die in his one hand, and a vibrating wand in the other.
“So, we’re gonna play a little game, I’m going to roll the dice. Whatever number the dice lands on, is how many times you have to edge until I let you cum.” He says, he usually chocolate brown eyes now almost black with lust.
You lick your lips and think about how to respond, “Y-yes Daddy” you utter, your face heating up at the new pet name. You hear Eddie curse under his breath. He rolls the die next to your head on the nightstand and chuckles. His face coming close to yours with a wicked grin on his face.
“Can you handle three, angel?” he snickers, leaving kisses along your jaw line, nipping lightly. You nod hurriedly, wanting to be good for the man above you. With that he kisses you deeply one more time before spreading your legs, your dripping core on display for him to see.
You watch him spit messily on the wand and then once more on your heat, spreading it generously on your clit. You hiss at the contact, bucking your hips up slightly wanting more. You hear the hum of the vibrator as Eddie turns it on low, your body full of anticipation, waiting for any sort of pleasure. That’s when you feel it, the low vibration against your clit. You squirm against it at first, wanting more already.
Eddie chuckles lowly above you, “I should call you my little bunny by how much you move, would you like that sweetness? To be my little bunny?” he taunts, turning up the vibration higher, pulling a moan from your lips.
“Yes daddy, wanna be your bunny, your good little bunny” you writhe against the restraints. He rewards you by turning up the vibrator another notch, the pressure quickly building in your stomach.
You writhe against the restraints as the pressure becomes too much, coming it waves, so close to sending you over the edge. And then it’s gone, the vibration still audible in the room but you can no longer feel it. You groan in frustration, you were so fucking close.
“Two more baby, then you can cum” he reassures you. He takes this time, to let the fire inside you simmer. He takes off his shirt and his pants, leaving him in only his boxers. You see him palming himself, you bite your lip, wanting nothing more than to worship his cock.
You feel the vibration once again but this time instead of starting out slow, the vibration knocks the wind out of you. Your clit screaming at you for release, the coil inside you already winding tighter and tigher, your curl your toes, willing yourself not to cum. Then the sensation is gone once again, your body now covered in sweat from being so close twice now, your chest heaving heavily up and down.
“You’re doin so good bunny, just one more for me, kay? Still green?” he asks.
You nod your head not trusting your words, whimpers coming out instead. Eddie takes off his boxers, showing off his now very erect and hard cock, making your mouth water. Stroking it a few times before lining it up with your mouth.
“Spit Bunny” he commands.
You whimper and do as you’re told, gathering all the salvia in your mouth and spitting it onto his tip. He sighs and works your spit around his cock, moaning loudly. He’s teasing you, you’re strapped to the bed and can’t even touch him. He is evil incarnate, and you can’t get enough.
You were so entranced by watching Eddie work his hand over his cock you had forgot what the two of you were doing, until you felt the vibration on the highest setting hit your clit.
You yelp in surprise, keeping your eyes on his cock. Thinking about how his cock feels inside of you, how it stretches you out, hits a spot inside of you that you could never reach. You wanted it, no, you needed it, you needed him or you were going to explode. Your orgasm hurtling towards you like a freight train.
“D-Daddy i- please, i- im gonna cum” you gush, holding your eyes tightly closed, willing yourself not to cum before you’re given the okay. But instead, the vibration is gone, and your orgasm ruined.
You wail in frustration, tears welling in your eyes threatening to spill out, legs shaking. You were so desperate you didn’t even know why you were crying. You feel Eddie unclip your restraints, giving you full range of motion again, you rubbed your wrists thankfully. Eddie pulling you into a hug, kissing the tears out of your eyes.
“You did so good for me baby, you’re such a good girl for Daddy,” he mumbles into your skin. You allow him to hold you for a minute before the need between your legs takes over.
You let out the breath you were holding shakily. Looking at him in anticipation. You lie back down on the bed and open your legs, two could play at this game. You swirl your finger around your aching clit, moaning dramatically. Grabbing your left tit, pinching lightly between your two fingers, giving him a show.
Two firm hands grab both of your wrists putting them above your head, “You coulda just asked sweetness, not that I mind the show, I just had something else in mind” he mocks.
He climbs on top of you, lining his cock up at your entrance, swiping it through your soaked folds.
“Beg for it, beg for my cock,” he demands.
“Please, please I need your cock, please please, I’ve been good, please let me have your cock,” you whine.
With that he pushes into your core, both of you moaning in unison. His pace already quick chasing his own high.
“Fuck your pussy is so fuckin tight” he says, eyes closed trying to hold off his own orgasm. He lifts your legs, bending you almost in half, hitting a spot inside that makes you scream.
“Fuck yes, yeah right there, holy fuck!” you wail.
Doing what he’s told he pistons into you harder, making the wet noises in the room get louder and louder. You can feel pressure building inside you, but it feels different, it feels bigger.
“Can I cum, please can I cum?” not being able to hold it off any longer, eyes pleading with Eddie.
“Yeah, baby go ahead, cum for me, cum for daddy,” he groans.
Then your vision whites out, every cell in your body imploding with pleasure, you feel your release spill out of you and onto the sheets, messily.
“Holy shit- fuck!” is the only warning you get before Eddie’s hips stutter, and he spills his seed inside of you.
“What the fuck” is all you can muster in your fucked out state.
“Yeah what the fuck indeed princess, I didn’t know you could squirt” he says breathlessly, scooping you into his arms, the two of you laying next to each other trying to catch your breaths.
“I didn’t either, I’ve never done it before” you confide, Eddies eyes shining bright with pride. You roll your eyes at him, the last thing he needed was a bigger ego.
“Don’t let it go to your head mister,” you say with a jab to his chest.
“No, I absolutely am, thanks though” he says, putting his hand over his chest like he’s accepting a badge of honor.
The two of you spend the rest of the night down there in each other’s arms, eventually, Eddie gives you his t-shirt and goes to grab the two of you a snack and a glass of water.
“Was this okay? I didn’t hurt you or make you upset, right?” he asks.
You shake your head, “No not at all, I loved every second, can’t wait to do it again,” you say with a wiggle of your eyebrows. It makes Eddie crack a smile and leave a small kiss on your head.
“I just like feeling wanted, you know how stuff like this clears your head? It clears mine too, all I need to do is be there for you, and focus on you. Then my brain is quiet, so thank you,” he confesses, stealing a kiss from your lips. You smile up at him, if you could give him the whole world you would in an instant.
“I think I want to tell Vi, I’m nervous but I’m starting to feel guilty hiding all of this from her. I like you a lot, and she deserves to know what makes me happy,” he says looking sleepily in your eyes.
“You make me happy too, we can tell Vi this weekend, okay? I don’t like hiding things from her either,” you reassure him.
He nods back at you sleepily, snuggling in closure to you like a dog. Eventually the two of you fall asleep, completely content.
Tag List! **if you want to be added to the tag list just lemme know, just need to be 18+**
@sweetblinginrose @tlclick73 @paleidiot @frogtape @too-efn-old-to-be-here @peaches-roses-sins @micheledawn1975 @untitled74745 @hellv1ra @alastorssimp @star-of-velaris @yeaiamme2 @itdobe-liza @mmaaddyy @cozyquinn
#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#eddie munson smut#steve harrington smut#eddie munson x reader#steve harrington x reader#steddie x reader#older!eddie munson#older eddie munson#older! steve harrington#older steve harrington
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Mental health masterlist
Please read the following fics with caution. There are sensitive topics which could be triggering for some.
Remember, you are not alone.
You can request anything btw. Feel free for any kind of comfort you may want and request it with your driver <3 Even if there is already a work for the driver, you can still request him with a different topic. Or the topic with a different driver!!
Uploaded
Max Verstappen
Butterfly | MV1
Max comes home earlier than expected (Sh/Cutting)
Pink skies | MV1
Max comforts you during grief
Prom Paddok queen | MV1
Max tries to be there for you while your whole world evolves around calories (ED)
Oscar Piastri
Blue Poison | OP81
Oscar has been away for a triple header, not being able to be there for you.What happens once he is finally back home?(OCD)
pulsating love | OP81
health anxiety gets the best of you and oscar’s right there by your side
million noises | OP81
You have a meltdown at the paddock but your boyfriend comes to the rescue
pages of horror | OP81
oscar finally realised how burnt out you really were..
flavours of choice | OP81
oscar supports you in something no one really has before ( Picky eater!reader)
Bad habit | OP81
Even tho you and Oscar talked about it and he did everything in his power to help you, you fell back into your bad habit..
enough | OP81
You overthink a bit to much and your depression is not much of help..
Lando Norris
Dead Flowers | LN4
Why would he ever chose you when he can have all these picture perfect girls? (Bulimia)
In work
working on your requests rn i promise but life is being a bitch rn 🧚🏻♂️, requests are open
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen angst#charles leclerc angst#carlos sainz angst#lando norris fluff#lando norris angst#sebastian vettel angst#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri angst
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Wow! As the header says, my blog just went past 5k followers - I'd like to extend a heartfelt thank you to everyone who hopped on for this journey; I'm having the time of my life sharing my writing with you all.
In celebration and as a way to have a little fun - I'll be opening my inbox for a day and letting those who want to send in something fill it up!
Now, I know you're probably asking yourself 'Hal, I thought you said requests are going to be closed so you can finish the ones you have and work on the AUs?' And you'd be correct - I did say that. I'm not going to be writing full-length works for this event.
To anyone who sends something in (and follows the rules I have in place on my Request Form (be sure to check it even if you've already read it, I added some more characters and other stuff)) I'll be writing one-to-two page drabbles!
All this being said, after this post is uploaded I'll be opening my inbox up to anyone who would want to participate and closing it exactly one day after!
Thank you again for being the best community ever - I'm incredibly lucky to be surrounded by kind and respectful individuals as well as mutuals who are mind-numbingly sweet. I could not have achieved all of this without you; I think that's beautiful.
This post will also serve as the Masterlist for all of the expected drabbles, so if you'd like to keep updated on what's going to be happening/being written soon, this would be a good place to hang out!
ALL COMPLETED AS OF 11/5/2023
IMAGES USED: A black retriever in an extensive mountainous landscape by Maud Earl & L'angelo, la morte e il diavolo by Roberto Ferri || TOTAL: 5
➣The Perfect One
╰┈➤ ❝ [He stares at the rings under the glass with an acute narrowness to his eyes. He inspects every one as if a bomb might go off at any second, not missing a single detail in the metal.] ❞
➣Get In
╰┈➤ ❝ [Coming home with bruises and stitched wounds, you drag him into the bathroom to wash away the memories.] ❞
➣Hum Me A Tune, Blue-Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [You listen to his heartbeat as he keeps you to his chest, his breath tickling your hair.] ❞
➣Here Now
╰┈➤ ❝ [He nearly misses one of the most important moments of your lives together.] ❞
➣Burst Veins
╰┈➤ ❝ [He never noticed you weren't behind him.] ❞
IMAGES USED: Fallen Angel by Roberto Ferri & Nature of Fear by Nicola Samori || TOTAL: 5
➣Nervous Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [No one understands how you two get along - not when you're so different. It makes you second-guess yourself. He notices.] ❞
➣Blood Like Obsidian
╰┈➤ ❝ [Simon can only fight against so many nurses as they shove him back from your operation room.] ❞
➣Supposed To Happen
╰┈➤ ❝ [You died and left him a child he had no idea existed. How can he even begin to try and understand?] ❞
➣Digging Gaze
╰┈➤ ❝ [You indulge in a one-night-stand after you'd both called it quits, only, it leads to more problems. When he sees you again, how will he react to the swelling of your stomach?] ❞
➣Sole Survivor
╰┈➤ ❝ [Your father died years ago, and so you fall under the stiff, and unyielding, protection of your Uncle Simon. But it's not all bad. He can be funny when he wants to be.] ❞
IMAGES USED: White and Black by Vadim Gorbatov & Saint Augustine by Philippe de Champaigne || TOTAL: 7
➣Didn't Mean It
╰┈➤ ❝ [Arguments are rare, certainly ones that leave you in tears.] ❞
➣Him, Her, and the Dog
╰┈➤ ❝ [The woes of pining after a woman whose deadly K9 looks like it hates his guts.] ❞
➣Drunken Sappiness
╰┈➤ ❝ [You can't say you've ever had a boyfriend as perfect as Kyle.] ❞
➣How Do You Listen To That?
╰┈➤ ❝ [It was three a.m. when you all got the call to load up, but what's the best way to wake both yourself and the Sergeant up?] ❞
➣Finally Broken
╰┈➤ ❝ [Childhood friends turned lovers. The realization was far more violent and instantaneous than you'd like to admit.] ❞
➣Don't Look At Her
╰┈➤ ❝ [The bomb starts ticking down, rapidly firing to zero. Gaz won't let Price near you. Not after he'd remembered the Captain's actions when they'd first met.] ❞
➣In His Head
╰┈➤ ❝ [Collection of his SFW and NSFW quirks.] ❞
IMAGES USED: Scene from the Great Flood by Joseph-Désiré Court & Saint Jerome in Prayer by Carlo Dolci || TOTAL: 7
➣Life Snaps By In Flashes
╰┈➤ ❝ [A collection of memories from the second he laid eyes on you. All flashing past in the soft buzzing of the overhead lights.] ❞
➣Heart-Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [Being a medic wasn't pretty, but when your boyfriend was the subject under your needle you can't help but enjoy his unwavering gaze. Today, he has something to share with you.] ❞
➣From Ten To Twenty & Beyond
╰┈➤ ❝ [You've known him ever since the incident on the playground, and now you can't help but imagine that same boy as you watch him make supper with flour in his hair.] ❞
➣Find Me
╰┈➤ ❝ [You're finally back in One-Four-One's hands, but that doesn't mean you're saved. Johnny tracks you down after a violent episode.] ❞
➣Still The Same Fools
╰┈➤ ❝ [There was always a rivalry between you two - that hasn't changed even if both of you have. Years later, the boiling point is finally met.] ❞
➣Is This Why?
╰┈➤ ❝ [He finally sees why you never introduced him to your parents.] ❞
➣Oblivious Pining
╰┈➤ ❝ [Johnny hangs off you like a silent beast. Not that you would notice, of course.] ❞
IMAGES USED: King Gustav III of Sweden and His Brothers by Alexander Roslin & Geography lesson by Eduard Karl Gustav Lebrecht Pistorius || TOTAL: 6
KEEGAN P. RUSS:
➣Paint The Dawn; Paint My Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [In the midst of war and death, there's little time for pleasure. All you had was a ripped-up sketchbook to call your own, its contents littered with the rough face of your comrade.] ❞
➣Hold Her Close
╰┈➤ ❝ [Keegan cares for his young daughter.] ❞
➣When The Fighting Stops & The Silence Sets In
╰┈➤ ❝ [Continuation of (Don't) Go To War: the aftermath of recovery and a budding relationship.] ❞
➣Movies and Stale Popcorn
╰┈➤ ❝ [Oak and Keegan finally get to watch that movie.] ❞
DAVID 'HESH' WALKER:
➣To The Boy of My Childhood
╰┈➤ ❝ [Ten years came and went fast, but the memory of the Walker boys stayed. One more than the other. You never got to tell him you loved him.] ❞
➣Keep The Sheets Warm, My Love Is Coming Home
╰┈➤ ❝ [If this wasn't enough to prove that you were the only person for Hesh, you didn't know what did.] ❞
IMAGES USED: Saint Catherine of Alexandria by Caravaggio & Amor Vincit Omnia by Caravaggio || TOTAL: 17
CAPTAIN JOHN 'SOAP' MACTAVISH:
➣New Paint
╰┈➤ ❝ [Fighting to forget you, MacTavish finds comfort in whoever he can. Yet, like the layers of paint on the walls, it always peels back to you.] ❞
➣A Song of Gnashing Teeth
╰┈➤ ❝ [There was never a day where the two of you weren't butting heads - everyone was at their wit's end. Of course, you would both be forced to cooperate at some point.] ❞
➣Listen To My Voice
╰┈➤ ❝ [He orders you to focus on him as the sounds outside the cell get closer. He promises nothing will happen to you. You know he's lying.] ❞
➣Look At The Stars; Look At Me
╰┈➤ ❝ [Stargazing in the middle of an overgrown and wild glade.] ❞
➣Alive and Breathing
╰┈➤ ❝ [You're sick. Very sick. John takes drastic action.] ❞
➣I Can See It In Your Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [It's finally time to meet the family.] ❞
➣A Green-Eyed Monster
╰┈➤ ❝ [You'd slept together, sure. No strings attached. Then why are you trying to make him jealous? Who cares, the point is that it's working.] ❞
SERGEANT GARY 'ROACH' SANDERSON:
➣Dance With Me Before The Chill Sets In
╰┈➤ ❝ [Tired? Yes, but he's never too tired for you and your loveliness. But maybe you need to remember to lock the door when you're home alone.] ❞
➣Raining Cats and Dogs
╰┈➤ ❝ [Roach has a deep love of storms.] ❞
OPERATION OFFICER ALEX KELLER:
➣Bright-Eyed History Lesson
╰┈➤ ❝ [A librarian with a fascination for war history and a soldier who loves how her eyes light up. Like a dog, he can't stop himself from coming back; smiling like a fool.] ❞
COLONEL ALEJANDRO VARGAS:
➣Hold Me Longer
╰┈➤ ❝ [Mornings spent in the sanctity of warm sunlight and bare skin.] ❞
SERGEANT MAJOR RODOLFO 'RUDY' PARRA:
➣A Love Like Ours Makes Us Strong
╰┈➤ ❝ [Rodolfo came back, alive but bruised. How do you explain how terrified you were?] ❞
COMMANDER PHILLIP GRAVES:
➣Sleeping On The Porch
╰┈➤ ❝ [As it turns out, your husband never really died. It's safe to say you're not overjoyed.] ❞
➣Love Echoes In Silence
╰┈➤ ❝ [You can feel him watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a small smile. Humming to yourself, you listen to the birds outside the window.] ❞
SEBASTIAN JOSEF KRUEGER:
➣Ain't Giving Up My Pride
╰┈➤ ❝ [You get on his nerves, partially because you want to. But what happens when he finally snaps?] ❞
ALL 141 INCLUDED (SEPARATE):
➣Count The Hours
╰┈➤ ❝ [Collection of what the One-Four-One do on their down-hours with their Lovers] ❞
➣Wide-Eyed Panic
╰┈➤ ❝ [Why were you behind the couch?] ❞
#halcyone updates#cod#cod x reader#cod x you#call of duty#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#cod x female reader#5k celebration#cod masterlist
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how the yellowjackets would react to you being sick (headcanons)
i wrote these forever ago when i had the flu and they got lost in my drafts enjoyyyy gender neutral reader i think but taissa does reference her partner as her wife. also if the pics on this don’t format right (theyre supposed to be 3 in a row and then the header) pls tell me sometimes it fucks up :(
SHAUNA
sees you sneeze once and runs to the store for cold medicine with the fervor of middle aged preppers fist fighting for toilet paper in 2020
she would do or get absolutely anything you wanted, would go and buy takeout food from your favorite restaurants or make sure you’re comfortable wherever you’re situated
will make sure you’re taking whatever medicine you need, whether it’s just over the counter cough medicine or it’s something prescribed by a doctor. you can’t put up a fight with her about it bc you’ll never win. she gets so intense about it but it’s ultimately for your good and you know that
also just likes to hold you. she cancels whatever plans she has and you lay and watch movies together — she might not like everything you pick to watch but she’ll put up with anything to make you feel a bit better. as for the close proximity of holding you, she doesn’t care if she gets sick because she knows you’ll take care of her once you’re better in the same way she cared for you. plus i’d imagine her immune system is of fucking steel after having a baby in the wilderness???? no germs are getting on this woman ok and ykw that probs goes for all of them they probably have some fucked up forest girl immunity or smthn idk im not a doctor don’t come at me
LOTTIE
she’ll never admit it ever but at first she gets kind of excited because she’s been waiting for someone to fall ill so she can try out a new herbal remedy
but then she sees how upset you are and how much discomfort you’re in and feels guilty
anyway rich girl lottie is averse to germs and when you first get sick she handles you a bit like you’re a giant jellyfish someone’s trying to throw at her , she wants to help you but girl has a whole wellness center to run she is not getting sick
until she caves and you’re cuddled in bed together watching movies because she can’t keep away from you
she lets you watch whatever you want while you’re sick , but she does get a bit bored sometimes when you’re asleep so she flips the channel to nature documentaries. she’ll flip it back to whatever you were watching immediately after you wake up tho, and yes of course she was watching your horror movies instead of bird watching shows go back to sleep
she also cooks for you while you’re sick — probably not very well, but she won’t allow anyone else cooking for you because she wants to make sure you’re eating quality food that will help you get better and not just anything you could pick up
she gets very protective over you and over your health in general and won’t allow anyone to come bother you, if you work outside the wellness center she makes sure your bosses aren’t being bitches about you being sick and she ensures everything’s in order to her standards
TAISSA
panics because she has absolutely no idea what to do when you get sick, probably googles “what to do when your wife is sick” and follows the wikihow
she’ll take a few days off work for once to look after you, it doesn’t seem like a big deal but it is to you because she hardly ever takes time off from the campaign
she’s very stereotypical in the way she takes care of you — she’ll make you chicken noodle soup, get you blankets, everything she knows is the “standard” of taking care of someone with a cold but she works so hard to make sure everything’s perfect for you
she knows you’re miserable so she’ll try to make you laugh when you’re sick. telling you stupid jokes, funny stories from work, anything she can think of. your body is down but she won’t let your mental health go down with it especially if you already struggle with mental health
might offer you some dirt and a spot in her tree if you’re lucky
VAN
knows you’re sick before you do it’s some psychic ass shit she just KNOWS
you sneeze once and she’s like “oh I bought you some cold medicine earlier” like ??? girl ok whatever
she usually loves to make you watch her old dvds and tapes but when you’re feeling bad she puts on a marathon of your favorite movies
she buys you a lot of sweets. she’d be one of those “chocolate fixes everything” girls and whenever she would go out to buy you something she would come back with some sort of treat for you
she lets your rant about being sick if you’re one of those people who get grumpy when you get sick, she wants you to trust her and feel safe enough to express your distress
NATALIE
i think we all know natalie isn’t the best person in health and wellness situations but she does make it fun to be sick at least !
raids the vending machine for you
will probably google how to take care of you like taissa , but thinks the instructions are too long and gives up
will probably call misty and make her bring over whatever medicine you’d need because she knows she’ll fuck it up picking it out herself
she’s silent on the bed for an hour and then announces “i made you a spotify playlist” out of the blue. it has like 5 songs on it but they’re all very very very meticulously selected and she’s so proud of it, she knows it cant help you get better physically but hopes it will make you happy
warns you not to get her sick as if it’s something you can control. looks at you so sternly and goes “don’t. don’t get me sick.” it makes you roll your eyes
MISTY
she’s been waiting for this day her whole life tbh not in a creepy way but in a loving “i want to take care of you” way
will do absolutely everything to make sure you’re comfortable when you’re sick, she would kill for you (she would anyway but especially when you’re not feeling well)
knows a bunch of get better health hacks from all the reddit forums she’s stalked over the years and only half of them work but it shows that she cares
tries to search amazon to see if there’s a little covid mask she can get caligula “just in case”
she makes you watch true crime documentaries with her and narrates every episode and then gives you all her hot takes afterwards. you can’t escape and she takes advantage of it
#yellowjackets x reader#lottie matthews x reader#shauna sadecki x reader#van palmer x reader#natalie scatorccio x reader#taissa turner x reader#misty quigley x reader
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As promised, I've got more books to share and they are all fic binds. Have a look at this new one:
This is Among the Stacks by MeinirRhos, and it's one of the few post-s2 Good Omens fics that I've liked enough to bind. It's canon-compliant and full of pining, fluff, angst, and a memory loss plot and I knew before even finishing it that I wanted it on my physical shelves.
I kept it pretty simple on the outside, with Library Summit book cloth and white HTV for the title. Large parts of the fic have to do with libraries and library books, so I thought it would be fun to make it look like a library rebind, something that looks innocuous and blends in to the shelves but it's actually going to be your new fave once you open it up and start reading. I wanted very badly to have the titles hand-written in embossing inks but I couldn't get a clean enough line with the textured cloth, so this handwriting font saved the day.
More photos under the cut; I'm really proud of the typeset for this one!
Top view, with pre-made end bands and a ribbon bookmark. Going with the library rebind aesthetic, I didn't think it ought to have handmade end bands, so these were perfect. Honestly I'm not sure the ribbon bookmark fits the theme, but you can pry that from my cold dead hands. All my books have them and I love them too much to leave it out. The endpapers are cream-colored cardstock, and while they look plain they feel nice. I tried out a new-to-me corner style, the library corner, where you don't trim off the excess material at the turn-in. It's supposed to be more durable than other styles and is common in rebinds. Library Summit is stiffer than most of the other book cloth I've worked with, so it was a little challenging to get it to lay flat while drying, and it's a bit bulkier than I'm used to, but it's perfect for the theming. Unrelatedly, it also holds a hinge crease really well.
Title page. I could not be more pleased with this title page design. I showed it to my husband after I finished the text block but before I had the cover on it, and he didn't realize at first that it was one of mine. I have cracked the code of professional title pages. The graphics were, at the time I put this together, available for free on rawpixel. I'm in love with it. It is sexy as hell and it will never be equaled.
Couple more interiors. The chapter header font is called Book Ends and I found it on DaFont. You add in the little plants and stuff with symbols. I haven't done much with custom fonts until this batch of fics, and in some of the others I've got in the pipeline I went a little nuts with them, but I think this one's my favorite for how well it fits the story. I also started experimenting with formatting text messages in this fic, and I'm very pleased with how those came out as well. The Renegade Bindery discord has resources on this kind of formatting, so check them out if you haven't already. I'd never have gotten them so professional-looking otherwise.
And that's it for this bind! I started working on it back in April and I'm thrilled to finally be able to show off the finished product. Thanks @rhosmeinir (Hi! It's Amberfly from Ao3!) for giving me permission to bind it nearly six months ago.
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