#somewhere toxic au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cumironi · 5 months ago

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SHARING IS S★X CARING？’ s. geto ﹠ s. gojo

☆ sum. your boyfriend and his best friend are inseparable. they’ve shared everything; clothes, foods, money, games... you.

warning. non-sorcerer! au, smoke joint, shared-girlfriend, lube, anal, sēx toy, cūm-play, choking, petnames, cūnnilingus, squirting, creampied, unprotected sēx, fingērings, dōuble-penetration, oral ( m & f receiving ).

the first time you met suguru geto, he was with satoru gojo, and from that moment, it was clear that they were two halves of something dark and unbreakable. they weren’t just best friends; they were a single, inseparable force, bound together by something deeper and messier than loyalty. it was like an obsession, a need that bordered on suffocating. you could see it in the way they moved, like shadows mirroring each other, two predators perfectly synced, with eyes that dared anyone to come between them.

you thought that, maybe, as you got closer to geto, you’d become a part of that bond. you’d be something he could keep just for himself. but no—if geto was there, gojo would be, too, lurking like a phantom, a constant, mocking reminder that you’d never have all of geto. every private moment was contaminated by gojo’s presence, his eyes watching you both like he was daring you to try to shut him out. even when you craved a moment alone with geto, there was always a text, a knock at the door, or the sound of gojo’s voice somewhere close, a shadow neither of you could shake.

when you and geto finally started dating, you thought, foolishly, that it might change things. that somehow gojo would let him go, just a little. but instead, it was like he tightened his grip, pressing himself deeper into the space between you. every date, every whisper, every tender moment was never just yours and geto’s—it was shared, distorted by gojo’s smirking presence. even the way they looked at each other felt invasive, as though they had a silent language you couldn’t decode, one that excluded you completely.

it was toxic, twisted. they shared everything. their obsession ran so deep they blurred the boundaries between them, as if each were only half a person without the other. clothes? gojo would wear geto’s hoodies, his scent still lingering, just to make sure you knew he was part of every piece of geto’s life. food? if you made lunch for geto, gojo would sit down and eat it too, grinning as though daring you to say anything. money, games—it was like they fed off each other, this endless loop of dependence, this twisted codependency that they wore proudly.

and the worst part? they shared you, too. oh, they never said it out loud, but you could feel it in the way gojo looked at you, in the way he’d touch your shoulder a little too casually, leaning in with that mocking smile that dared you to protest. when you’d be alone with geto, just the two of you, you’d feel gojo’s shadow creeping in, like he was watching from somewhere, his presence twisting the intimacy into something poisoned. even in the way geto held you, there was a feeling that he was holding something back, something reserved only for gojo.

and sometimes, it felt like they were playing with you, like you were a toy they could toss back and forth. gojo would flirt, sometimes in front of geto, pushing boundaries just enough to make you question if it was all a game between them. they thrived off your discomfort, your jealousy. you’d catch the way they’d glance at each other when you reacted, a knowing, shared smile that reminded you of how close they were, how little you really meant in comparison.

it was sickening, this twisted love triangle where you were always the outsider. you knew you’d never be enough, not when they were so tangled up in each other, not when they held this dark, toxic bond over you like a noose. they didn’t need you; you were just another thing to share, another piece of amusement in their endless, consuming obsession with each other. and no matter how much you wanted to escape, you found yourself sinking deeper, drawn to the toxicity, addicted to the way they could pull you in and push you out, like they owned every part of you without ever letting you truly belong.

over time, you stopped fighting it—the reality that satoru gojo would always be woven into your relationship with suguru geto. resisting it felt pointless, like struggling against a tide that only grew stronger the more you tried to pull away. so instead, you started to let go, letting yourself sink into this twisted, shared intimacy they’d built around you, a dark bond that the three of you played into with a silent, unspoken understanding.

it started out innocently enough. one evening, the three of you were sprawled out on the couch in geto’s apartment, and on a whim, you let yourself settle onto gojo’s lap instead of your boyfriend’s. you felt gojo’s hand fall naturally to your waist, his touch a little too possessive, his fingers pressing against your skin with an assurance that told you he’d been waiting for this. there was a quiet thrill in it, a reckless satisfaction in the way gojo’s lips curved into a smirk when he felt you relax against him.

you stole a glance at geto, expecting something—jealousy, annoyance, maybe even anger. but instead, he simply looked back at you with an amused gleam in his eyes, a joint held lazily between his fingers as he took a slow drag, watching the two of you with a dark, knowing smile. he looked...pleased, as if this was all part of some game he and gojo had orchestrated, and you were playing into their hands exactly as they’d intended.

and you found yourself sinking deeper, almost against your own will. you’d started slipping on gojo’s clothes when you stayed over, oversized shirts that hung low on your shoulders, sleeves falling past your wrists, the fabric smelling faintly of his cologne, a scent that clung to your skin long after you took it off. and every time you caught geto’s gaze on you, that same amused smirk on his lips, you felt something tighten in your chest, a mix of surrender and thrill as his silent approval sank deeper into your bones.

the lines blurred more and more. when you’d reach for geto’s hand, gojo’s fingers would trace along your arm, his touch just a little too intimate, a little too possessive, his hands wandering over your skin in a way that left no room for boundaries. and geto never stopped him. he would watch, almost transfixed, his eyes dark and smoldering, a smirk curling up at the edges of his lips as he watched gojo’s hand slide down your arm, settling on your thigh, as if you were a part of something they both owned.

you felt trapped, yet strangely exhilarated, like you were standing on the edge of something dangerous and addictive, a line between control and surrender that blurred every time you were with them. this wasn’t love—not the way most people understood it. it was twisted, possessive, a toxic bond that fed off your willingness to fall deeper into their world, letting go of any illusion that this could be anything but theirs to shape, control, and consume.

you lay stretched across geto's bed, sheets tangled around your bare body, the coolness against your heated skin a stark contrast to the warmth that still lingered between you. the room felt heavy, thick with the scent of sweat and intimacy, and though the AC droned quietly, the air still seemed charged, electric.

your eyes trailed over geto as he moved across the room, his every step exuding that slow, effortless confidence that had always pulled you in. his skin glistened under the dim light, long black hair tumbling down his shoulders, framing his toned, sculpted body as he reached for the drawer, seemingly unfazed by his own nakedness. there was something about him—calm, composed, yet unnervingly intense, his gaze almost predatory, as if he knew he had you exactly where he wanted.

you hadn’t meant to ask, but the question fell from your lips anyway, barely above a whisper, hesitant yet laced with a strange anticipation. “baby, when will satoru come?”

he paused, glancing back at you with a small, dark smile that sent a jolt through you, an unspoken threat wrapped in that unreadable look. his eyes roamed over your exposed body, his gaze possessive, almost as if he was savoring your vulnerability, the way you lay waiting, asking for another man, even as you lay tangled in his sheets.

“he’ll be here soon, doll,” he replied, voice smooth but carrying an edge that made your pulse quicken. there was something chilling in his tone, as if he enjoyed the way you looked to gojo’s arrival, enjoyed that your desire for them was something they held, something they could control and twist as they pleased. you felt the weight of it—the way you had slipped into their world, no longer your own person, but a part of their twisted game, something they could pass between themselves, a secret thrill they both indulged in.

his words left a dark impression, a reminder that your place here was more than just between them—it was within the cage they had set up, one where you’d come to accept that neither of them would ever really let you go.

you hum softly, acknowledging his answer without another word, and let the silence settle around you both, an almost tangible tension filling the room. there was an ease in that quiet, twisted as it was—an acceptance of the strange rhythm you'd all fallen into.

you watched as geto moved towards the bed, his steps unhurried but deliberate. he tossed a pack of condoms onto the nightstand with a casual, careless thud, then reached into the drawer, pulling out a joint as if this were just another evening between the three of you. he lit it without a second glance, inhaling deeply, that calm intensity radiating off him.

just then, the door creaked open, and gojo’s voice filled the room, a mocking lilt in his words that was all too familiar. “it smells like sex in here,” he teased, his tone dripping with amusement. his eyes scanned the scene, taking in geto’s bare form standing by the bed, and he let out a low whistle, a playful grin spreading across his face.

geto rolled his eyes, exhaling a cloud of smoke, but there was a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, a flicker of something darkly amused as he watched his best friend stride in without hesitation.

gojo’s sharp blue eyes found yours, and in that instant, the atmosphere shifted, charged with a new intensity. he looked at you with that familiar, arrogant gleam, his gaze trailing over you, unashamed and piercing, like he was assessing exactly what he was about to walk into. there was a possessiveness in his gaze, a twisted understanding between the three of you that none of you needed to say out loud—this was just the way things were, a silent pact wrapped in tension, indulgence, and the thrill of pushing boundaries that none of you cared to pull back from.

you looked over at him, watching the way he stepped inside without hesitation, his eyes glinting with that same twisted amusement as he took in the scene, as if he were right at home in this dark, tangled intimacy. he closed the door behind him, his gaze drifting between you and geto, a satisfied smirk on his face that promised more than just another night together—it was a reminder of the possessive, toxic hold the two of them shared over you, a shared addiction you were all too willing to sink into. “finished your class?” you ask as he waltz closer to bed, throwing his bag mindlessly to the floor.

gojo’s smile grew wider at your question, his eyes never leaving yours as he stripped off his jacket and tossed it aside, his body moving with a careless, fluid grace that was as intimidating as it was captivating.

“you know how it is, doll,” he said, his voice a low, husky taunt. “just few more exams and i’m free for weeks,” he paused, his gaze flickering down, his eyes tracing the lines of your body just the way geto’s did, a hunger you found hard to resist.

“but now,” he continued, his smirk growing darker, “i’m all yours,” he finished for himself, his words a wicked promise as he finally climbed onto the bed, the mattress shifting under his weight. his gaze was fixed on yours, as if he were savoring the fact that for now, you were entirely at his mercy, a twisted game he and geto had both learned to play all too well.

you hummed softly, a quiet acknowledgment as you shifted, adjusting yourself to rest your head on geto’s bare, toned thighs. he had settled comfortably on the bed, back pressed against the headboard, completely unbothered by his lack of clothes, the cool confidence in his gaze unwavering as he looked down at you with a possessive sort of satisfaction. it was as if he reveled in the fact that both you and gojo seemed right where he wanted.

reaching up, you plucked the joint from his fingers, taking a slow drag as the haze filled your lungs, adding to the already charged atmosphere of the room. your other hand drifted upward, fingers tracing the edge of gojo’s collar, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as your eyes locked with his. there was a flicker of amusement in his gaze, a dark spark that told you he knew exactly what game the three of you were playing.

gojo’s eyes flickered with a familiar, playful amusement at your gesture, his gaze locked with yours as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow kiss. the joint passed from your fingers to his, a silent dance between your bodies. he took a leisurely drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke that hung in the air before fading away, his hand sliding down to your throat, a gentle yet firm touch that had a dark thrill pooling inside you.

“you already started without me, huh?” he murmured, his voice a teasing reproach as his lips trailed from your mouth down to your neck, every touch a promise of more to come. “or is dollie here too impatient to wait?” he added, a slight hint of arrogant confidence in his tone, as if he knew exactly how intoxicating this game between the three of you was, and how helpless you were to resist. each word sent chills down your spine, his touch a potent mix of pleasure and danger, a dark thril only a man like gojo could provide.

you smirked, a playful glint in your eyes as you took the joint from gojo’s fingers, holding his gaze with a teasing challenge. inhaling deeply, you let the smoke settle before exhaling slowly, every move deliberate, as if to show him you were just as unbothered as he pretended to be.

“maybe i wanted to spend some time alone with my boyfriend,” you murmured, your tone laced with mischief as your fingers traced an idle pattern on geto’s thigh. “before a certain intruder decided to barge in and ruin our peace.” the words dripped with sarcasm, but there was no denying the thrill that sparked in your veins, knowing exactly how gojo would react to your challenge.

gojo raised a brow, his trademark smirk deepening as he leaned closer, undeterred by your taunt. his fingers trailed over your covered-with-hickeys-collarbone, brushing against your skin with a touch that was both mocking and possessive, as if to remind you that this game was one you willingly walked into.

beside you, geto chuckled, a dark, approving sound as he took the joint back from you, his hand steady as he brought it to his lips. his eyes glinted with amusement, enjoying the twisted banter between you and gojo, like he relished watching the two of you push and pull in this dangerous, addictive dance. the lines between you all had long since blurred, and in that moment, it was clear that none of you had any intention of stopping.

gojo’s hand slid down, teasingly tracing the edge of the thin sheet around your chest, a playful smile playing on his lips as he met your gaze. “spoil your peace, huh?” he taunted, his voice low and teasing. “doll, you make it sound like i’ve done nothing but ruin your life.”

a mock pout formed on his lips, his fingers still toying with the sheet, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. “or,” he paused, his thumb suddenly brushing against your cleavage, hovering just upper your bare breast, “maybe you enjoy the chaos a little more than you’re letting on.”

his free hand toyed with your chin, tilting your face up to his with an affectionate touch, his eyes locked with yours with an almost predatory look—a glimmer of darker desire, as if he was savoring the way your breath hitched beneath his fingers.

“after all,” he murmured, his voice a low husky note, “your body certainly seems to respond quite well to my... intrusions.” he paused, and a sharp edge crept into his tone, his fingers lightly squeezing your throat. “maybe i should remind you that you’re the one who keeps coming back for more.”

a sly grin tugged at the corners of your lips, your eyes never leaving gojo’s as he teased you. you knew this game all too well—the way his eyes sparkled with mischief, the subtle taunts in his words, the way he constantly pushed boundaries just because he could. it was as intoxicating as it was infuriating, an addictive mix of pleasure and pain that only he seemed to be able to provide.

his touch was a subtle dance between light and heavy, his fingers teasing at the sheet covering your body as he spoke, the fabric brushing against your sensitive skin with every flicker of his wrist.

“i’m coming back for my lovely boyfriend, over here,” you said, eyes momentarily flickering to your boyfriend before going back to gojo. “for your information,” you added.

a dark gleam flashed in gojo’s eyes, a smirk playing on his lips in response to your challenge. “well, doll,” he murmured, his fingers tightening possessively around your throat, “i wouldn’t want to disappoint your boyfriend by depriving you of him.” his lips brushed against yours, a slow, taunting kiss that carried a promise of darker desires and a twisted addiction that went far beyond mere lust.

his touch never relented, his fingers tracing the curves of your body, teasingly brushing against your sensitive spots, as he pressed himself against you, a silent reminder of his control in this moment, of the power he held with a single stroke or word. he broke the kiss with a playful nip at your bottom lip, his lips lingering close to yours in a taunting reminder of what had been.

geto snorted, rolling his eyes at gojo’s words, an amused smirk tugging at his lips as he watched his best friend’s possessive display. bringing the joint to his lips, he took a slow, deliberate drag, his gaze never leaving the two of you, clearly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him.

“you wish, satoru,” he murmured, a trace of mockery lacing his tone. his eyes glinted with a lazy confidence as he looked at gojo, as though he found the whole display a touch amusing, like he was the only one in on some private joke. he exhaled a cloud of smoke, letting it drift between you all, a faint smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.

“don’t flatter yourself too much, you are here, touching her because i let you,” he added, his voice low and almost taunting. with an unhurried ease, he leaned back, fingers tapping against his knee as he watched gojo’s grip on you. there was a quiet satisfaction in his gaze, like he was reveling in this twisted push and pull between the three of you, his best friend’s possessive game only fueling his amusement.

gojo shot geto a challenging glance, his grip on your throat tightening in response. “oh please,” he scoffed, a dangerous smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, “as if you have a choice, suguru. we both know she’s as much mine as yours,” his voice dropped, a dark edge in his tone as he leaned closer to you, as if sharing a secret.

“and besides, we both know you love...watching me make her fall apart.” he murmured, his lips barely grazing your cheek, a teasing brush that sent shivers down your spine.

your breath hitched, a soft, almost involuntary whimper slipping from your lips as gojo’s grip tightened around your throat, just enough to send a heady rush through your veins. you felt his words settle like a dark promise, the teasing graze of his lips against your cheek sparking a thrill and a twisted ache. but even as the sensation built, you noticed geto’s gaze on you, his eyes flicking from your flushed face to gojo, a silent warning embedded in his expression.

“not too tight, satoru,” geto’s voice cut in, low and edged with a possessive restraint, his words firm. the relaxed smirk was gone now, replaced with a flash of something darker, a reminder that his tolerance had its limits. he didn’t mind sharing you, letting gojo push and tease, but only within a boundary he alone dictated. there was a quiet jealousy simmering under his calm exterior—a need to protect what was originally his, even if he indulged in this dangerous game.

the tension in the room thickened as gojo met geto’s warning with a mischievous glint in his eyes, though he relented, loosening his grip just enough. his fingers softened against your throat, his smirk deepening as he brushed his thumb along your skin in a lingering, possessive touch, savoring the shiver he knew it caused. you could feel the silent power struggle between them—both claiming parts of you in their own ways, both determined not to let go.

“aww, what’s wrong, suguru?” gojo murmured, his tone teasing as he pulled back, his eyes fixed on geto’s, almost daring him to react. he could feel your breathing quicken beneath his touch, the quiet hitch in your throat sending a thrill through his veins.

he shifted, his other hand trailing down, tracing the curve of your jaw with almost casual possessiveness. “we both know she likes it when i’m a little... rough.” his voice was a deep, seductive purr, a challenge and a promise all at once.

and through it all, you remained caught in the middle of their twisted game, a pawn in their power struggle and a willing participant in their twisted desires. you could feel the heat from their touches, the possessive gazes that seemed to strip you bare and claim you at the same time.

“just a little bit tighter,” you heard yourself saying, the words leaving your lips before your brain could register their full meaning. they were both surprised, their eyes flashing with lust and dominance at your bold request. “i know i can take it,” you added, your voice husky and filled with a deep...

a dark gleam sparkled in gojo's eyes, a pleased grin spreading across his face at your bold words. “well, well, well,” he murmured, his tone amused and dangerous all at once, “if our little doll wants to play a bit rougher, who am i to deny her?” he paused, his grip tightening a bit more around your throat as he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours.

“as long as suguru doesn’t mind sharing the fun, of course.” he teased, his gaze flickering to geto, challenging him to intervene.

a low, daring whisper left your lips, your words laced with a challenge of your own. “he won’t,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, yet filled with conviction. you tightened your hold on gojo, your legs slipping around his waist, pulling him even closer until there was barely any space left between you. a sly smile teased your lips as you watched that dangerous gleam in his eyes flare even brighter at your response.

with a deliberate slowness, you leaned in, your mouth brushing his, igniting a kiss that was as much a taunt as it was an invitation. the thrill of pushing the limits coursed through you, fueling the tension sparking between the three of you. you knew geto was watching, his silent, unyielding gaze never wavering. and yet, despite his possessiveness, he allowed it, that quiet permission hovering in the air, heightening every brush and press of gojo’s lips on yours.

your fingers tangled in gojo’s hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss, each movement charged with a dark thrill. you knew this was exactly the kind of game they thrived on, the thrill of shared control, each boundary tested and savored.

a low, amused chuckle escaped gojo’s lips as you teased him, the feel of your legs around him sending a jolt of desire through him. “seems like somebody’s feeling awfully confident,” he murmured, his voice a soft taunt as he broke the kiss, leaving you yearning for more. he pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze wicked and intense, yet with a soft edge that softened his arrogance.

he leaned back, his hands falling from your body, letting go for a moment, but only for a moment, as he reached for something on the night stand.

geto’s eyes remained fixed on the scene unfolding before him, his expression unreadable behind the haze of smoke curling from his lips. the joint dangled forgotten between his fingers as he watched, transfixed, his breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. his free hand slid down his abdomen, tracing the lines of muscle before dipping lower, toward the growing arousal on his cock that already start to harden.

the room was heavy with tension, the air thick with the scent of sex and weed.

but the absence of gojo’s touch was short-lived, as his hand soon returned, a familiar bottle of lube held between his fingers. he smirked, his gaze locked with yours, as he flipped the lid open with a soft click, the sound echoing softly in the quiet room. “let’s see how confident you really are, doll,” he whispered, his voice dropping to a husky murmur as he moved closer to you, his lips finding your ear.

you frowned, a hint of annoyance in your gaze as you looked up at gojo, catching his smirk as he held the bottle. “i told you i don’t like using lube,” you murmured, a defiant edge in your voice. there was a flicker of disappointment in his eyes, but he simply shrugged, as if undeterred by your words.

you felt geto’s warm hand rest gently on your head, his fingers threading softly through your hair in a silent reassurance. glancing up, you caught his calm gaze, that subtle smirk on his lips as he watched you, his quiet approval a steady contrast to gojo’s boldness. for a moment, you felt an odd balance between them—the steady, grounded touch of geto and the daring, relentless energy of gojo, already in the process of stripping down. your gaze shifted back to gojo, who seemed unfazed about your disapproval.

“tough luck, doll,” gojo said with a casual grin, his tone light and teasing, as if he wasn’t bothered by your disapproval at all. his eyes sparkled with lust and a touch of playfulness, his fingers moving to his belt to unfasten it, teasingly slow, almost as if making a show of it.

meanwhile, geto’s steady touch continued to provide you a silent assurance, his fingers soothing your hair with a gentle caress. he seemed relaxed yet amused at this unexpected turn of events, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he watched you and gojo.

gojo’s pants and underwear quickly followed, slipping off his fit frame and leaving him bare before you. he stepped forward, a cocky twist of his hips emphasizing his confidence as he came between your spread legs, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing manner.

you frowned, unable to hide your irritation as you shot gojo a pointed look. “you’re so cocky it’s annoying,” you quipped, but the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed you. despite your words, you found yourself instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. the moment your lips met, it was electric—his teasing grin melting into something deeper, more primal, as he responded eagerly to your kiss.

gojo’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer against him, deepening the kiss with an intensity that set your pulse racing. despite your earlier protest, you felt a thrill coursing through you, the way he melted against you, how his body felt—so confident, so alive. it was intoxicating, that dance between annoyance and desire, and you couldn't help but lose yourself in it as the world around you faded away.

gojo’s hand moved in a swift, fluid motion, yanking the thin sheet away from your body, leaving your bare skin exposed to both his gaze and geto’s steady presence beside you. his blue eyes roamed over you, a mixture of admiration and possession flickering in their depths, as if he were taking in every inch of you, committing it to memory.

beside him, geto’s dark gaze was equally intense, filled with a quieter yet unmistakable pride as he watched you. there was something almost predatory in the way the two of them looked at you, as if they were both savoring the sight, each in their own distinct way. gojo’s hand reached out, brushing along your shoulder, then down, slow and deliberate, his fingertips grazing your skin with an expert familiarity that made your heart race.

“there she is,” gojo murmured, his voice a blend of tease and awe, his hand lingering on you as his gaze flicked briefly to geto, a silent acknowledgment between them. it was a moment that hung in the air, charged and heavy, a silent understanding of the unusual bond the three of you shared.

gojo’s breath hitched as he watched you pull him closer, his cock hardening against your thigh as he ground himself against you, the friction sending waves of pleasure through him. his hand trailed down your side, fingertips dancing along your curves, teasing and exploring every inch of your body. “fuck... you’re so goddamn hot,” he growled, his voice rough with desire.

geto sat back, watching the scene unfold with rapt attention, his own arousal evident in the air. his hand moved slowly, stroking himself painfully slow as he took in the erotic display before him. “that’s it, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and encouraging. “show him what he’s been missing.”

gojo grinned wickedly, his hand slipping between your thighs, his fingers teasing your entrance, finding you wet and ready.

geto’s eyes narrowed as he watched the scene unfold before him, a hint of jealousy flickering across his features as gojo’s hands explored your body with such intimate familiarity. yet, beneath that flash of emotion, there was a sense of pride, a satisfaction in seeing you, his girlfriend respond so openly to gojo’s touches, his best friend.

his grip tightened ever so slightly on your hair, a silent reminder of his presence, his claim over you. his other hand trailed down his torso, fingers brushing lightly over his nipples before dipping lower, wrapping around his semi-hard shaft. he stroked himself slowly, deliberately, matching the languid pace of gojo’s movements above you.

geto’s breathing grew heavier as he watched, the haze of marijuana smoke curling around him adding to the surreal atmosphere before he let go of your hair, afraid he might get the ashes to your beautiful skin.

your breath caught as gojo’s fingers brushed against your entrance, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. you could feel the heat emanating from his body, his hardness pressing insistently against you, and it only fueled the fire within.

“please...” you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. the plea was instinctive, a desperate need for more, for him to fill you, to claim you completely.

gojo’s smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with triumph and lust. “so impatient,” he purred. gojo’s smirk widened, eyes gleaming with a dangerous mix of triumph and lust. “so impatient,” he purred, his tone a mocking whisper that sent a chill down your spine. with a slow, almost taunting motion, he flipped open the cap of the lube bottle, his gaze never leaving yours as he squeezed a small amount onto his fingers.

the cool sensation of it touched your skin, a stark contrast against the heat between the three of you. his fingers worked the slick liquid over your pussy, every movement purposeful, as if he were savoring the way your body responded to his touch. his smirk deepened, reveling in the power he held in this moment.

“i thought you didn’t like using lube,” gojo teased, a wicked glint in his eye as he rubbed the slippery substance over your sensitive flesh. his fingers circled your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp and arch into his touch.

geto groaned appreciatively at the sight, his hand working slowly over his own straining erection before letting go. “she loves it, man,” he rumbled. “she just likes to pretend she doesn’t.”

gojo chuckled lowly, inserting one finger into your tight heat, marveling at how easily it slid inside thanks to the generous coating of lubricant. he pumped it in and out slowly, steadily building the tension coiling within you. “you’re dripping for me, angel,” he breathed. “don’t lie to yourself.”

geto observed quietly, puffing leisurely on his joint as he watched gojo work you open with his fingers. he admired the view of your cunt presented enticingly in front of him. geto’s eyes raked over your form greedily, devouring the sight of your voluptuous figure writhing under gojo’s ministrations. a part of him wanted to reach out and touch, to add his fingers alongside gojo’s in stretching you wide, but he stop himself, letting his best friend having his way with his girlfriend.

you gasped sharply as gojo’s finger pushed deeper inside you, your walls fluttering around the intrusion. the stretch burned deliciously, stoking the flames of your desire higher. “ah! f-fuck...” you whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily, seeking more of that sweet friction.

geto’s heated gaze followed the line of your body, drinking in every twitch and shudder. he leaned in close, his warm breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as he spoke. “look at you, taking him so well,” he praised huskily, “such a good girl for us.”

the filthy words sent a fresh gush of arousal trickling down your thighs. you could feel how soaked you were getting, your juices mingling obscenely with the lube gojo kept pumping into you before he suddenly stopped and pulled away just a beat to open the drawer by the bed. gojo retrieved the vibrator, its sleek shape glinting in the dim light.

“shhh...” gojo whispered, his finger still buried deep inside you the heartbeat he felt your body tense., feeling your walls quiver around him. “just relax, baby.” he withdrew his digit with agonizing slowness, eliciting a needy whine from you. the toy buzzed to life, its vibrations sending tingles up your spine. gojo pressed it firmly against your swollen clit, holding it there while you thrashed beneath him, lost in a sea of pleasure.

“that’s it,” he purred, watching your face contort in ecstasy. “let it take you.”

geto’s eyes drank in the debauched picture you made, your chest heaving and your thighs trembling as the toy worked its magic. he licked his lips hungrily, transfixed by the way your body responded to their ministrations.

gojo’s grin turned positively feral as he switched on the vibrator to next level, the buzzing filling the air, more intense. “let’s see how long you can last,” he challenged darkly, running the toy teasingly over your sensitive folds without directly touching where you needed it most.

geto inhaled deeply, savoring the rich taste of cannabis mixed with your sweet scent. “you’re playing with fire, bro, you’re about to ruin my girlfriend,” he drawled amusedly, noting the strained tension in your muscles as you tried not to beg shamelessly. he could tell gojo was thoroughly enjoying torturing you with need, pushing your boundaries. he can’t help but smirk while he takes another drag, filling his lung with smoke.

his eyes were glued to the erotic show, gojo now sliding two thick digits knuckle-deep inside your soaked cunt while the toy worked relentless circles around your swollen clit. “god damn, baby.”

the dual sensations of gojo's fingers plunging into your depths and the vibrator's relentless stimulation drove you to the brink of madness. your mind went blank, consumed entirely by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. all coherent thought fled, replaced by a primal urge to chase the peak of ecstasy looming just out of reach.

“please... oh fuck, please!” you begged, your voice cracking with desperation. the words spilled from your lips unbidden, a wanton plea for release. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the pressure built, threatening to shatter you utterly.

geto’s low chuckle vibrated through you after he takes another drag, a dark promise of things to come. “she’s close,” he observed, his gaze locked on the way your body tensed and quivered. “i wonder how long we can keep her teetering on the edge.”

“oh, i don't know,” gojo replied with a wicked grin, his fingers curling inside you as he felt your inner walls clenching around them. “maybe until she screams,” he added, his voice dropping an octave lower, filled with dark intent.the vibrations of the toy intensified, becoming almost too much to bear. gojo watched, mesmerized, as you arched your back and threw your head back, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. your nails dug into the sheets, the fabric tearing slightly under the force of your grip.

“fuck, look at her,” geto growled, his free hand reaching out to cup your bouncing breast, giving it a rough squeeze. “she’s a goddamn mess.” with a swift twist of his wrist, gojo removed the vibrator, denying you the relief you craved.

you let out a choked sob as the vibrator was abruptly taken away, leaving you empty and aching. your body trembled violently, overwhelmed by the sudden absence of stimulation. tears streamed freely down your face, blurring your vision. “no, please... satoru,” you whimpered brokenly, your hips lifting off the bed in a futile attempt to seek friction. “i need… i need…”

gojo tutted softly, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “ah ah ah, not yet, angel. you don’t get to cum until i say so.” his fingers continued their torturous dance inside you, stretching you wider than ever before. the wet squelch of your arousal filled the room, obscene and lewd. geto hummed approvingly, pinching your nipple hard between his thumb and forefinger.

gojo grinned wolfishly, relishing the power he held over you. your pleas only spurred him on, driving him to push you further. he scissored his fingers apart, spreading you impossibly wide as he pumped them in and out of your dripping core.

“beg harder, sweetheart,” he purred sadistically, leaning down to nip at your earlobe. “convince him of how badly you need it.” geto chuckled darkly, trailing his fingertips down your sweat-slicked stomach before dipping between your legs to collect some of your essence. he brought his coated fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a groan of appreciation.

“delicious,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “almost as sweet as the sounds of you pleading for our cocks.”

desperate, you writhed beneath them, your body a living flame of need. each thrust of gojo's fingers sent jolts of electric pleasure racing up your spine, making you keen with longing. “please, satoru!” you cried, your voice raw with emotion. “need to cum, want it— ohh, god!” your words tumbled out in a frantic rush, each one a desperate plea for release. tears streaked your flushed cheeks as you stared up at gojo, your eyes wild and pleading.

geto’s dirty talk only fueled the fire within you, your pussy clenching greedily around gojo's invading digits. the sight of him sucking your juices from his fingers, the hungry gleam in his eye, made you shudder with anticipation.

ignoring your plea, gojo turns his attention to your boyfriend. he takes his fingers out of your cunt to hold both of your knees, spread them apart. his hips sway slowly, making a way for hardened cock to make contact with your dripping fold, coating his flesh with your essence.

“let me fuck her raw,” gojo said to geto, confidently, his blue eyes form like a twin blue flames. geto might shared you with him, but he also have limits, a bound gojo couldn’t cross, one of them is; fucking you raw and cum inside you. you are his girlfriend after all, and even so, he can get jealous and possessive no matter how nonchalant and unbothered he is about the shared dynamic.

gojo grinned at geto’s concern, seemingly oblivious to the unease it caused. he knew the limits he had set, and he had no intention of crossing them, at least with someone as precious as his best friend’s girlfriend. “i’ll be gentle,” gojo promised— lie, his voice soothing as he rubbed your inner thigh reassuringly. his cock twitched against your slick folds, a bead of pre-cum forming at the tip.

geto’s eyes narrowed at gojo’s bold request, a flicker of jealousy passing through his expression despite his usual nonchalance. he took a long drag from his joint, holding the smoke in his lungs as he considered the proposition.

after exhaling slowly, he fixed gojo with a stern look, his voice low and measured. “now, satoru, you know the rules. no bareback, not with her.” his hand slid possessively over your cheek down to your neck and shoulder, a subtle reminder of your relationship.

gojo smirked at geto’s words, unfazed by the warning tone. he leaned in closer, his breath hot against geto's ear as he whispered conspiratorially, “come on, suguru. where’s your sense of adventure? live a little.”

geto rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in his expression. “you’re insatiable, you know that?” he accused playfully, even as his own desire stirred at the thought of watching gojo take you bare.

gojo just grinned, undeterred. he trailed his fingers along your knees. “i know what i want,” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “and right now, i want to feel her tight little cunt wrapped around my cock, no barriers between us.” he punctuated his words with a slow, deliberate grind of his erection against your entrance, coating himself in your wetness. the sensation was exquisite, and he could tell by the sharp intake of breath from geto that he wasn't the only one affected.

overwhelmed by the intense sensations, you moaned loudly, your body arching off the bed as gojo’s thick cockhead pressed insistently against your sensitive entrance. the feeling of his hot skin, slick with your arousal, sent shivers down your spine.

“satoru..” you whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily to meet his. “stop talking and fuck me already,” your words were barely coherent, spoken through gritted teeth as you struggled to breathe through the pleasure-pain of being stretched so wide.

geto’s touch on your skin only heightened your awareness, making every nerve ending sing with need. you felt his eyes on you, burning with a mix of lust and possessiveness, and it only fueled your desire to submit to gojo’s advances.

gojo chuckled darkly at your demand, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. he leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left you breathless. his tongue delved deep, claiming your mouth as thoroughly as he intended to claim your body.

when he finally pulled back, his eyes were blazing with hunger. “as you wish, angel,” he purred, his voice a sinful promise. with agonizing slowness, he began to sink into your welcoming heat, inch by delicious inch— earning a glare from geto for fucking his girlfriend raw.

your gasp turned into a throaty moan as he filled you completely, his girth stretching you beyond anything you’d ever experienced. geto’s hands roamed over your trembling form, tweaking your nipples and caressing your curves as if memorizing every dip and swell.

“look at you,” geto growled appreciatively, his gaze locked on the erotic sight of you impaled on gojo's thick cock. “so fucking perfect, taking him like that.” his fingers found your clit, rubbing firm circles over the swollen nub.

gojo groaned, his hips stilling for a moment as he savored the feel of your tight heat enveloping him. then, with a primal grunt, he began to move— long, deep strokes that dragged across your sensitive walls and made you see stars.

each thrust drove him deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. geto matched his rhythm, his fingers pumping your clit in time with gojo’s relentless pace. the dual stimulation pushed you closer to the edge, your orgasm building with terrifying speed.

“fuck, she’s so tight, can’t believe you let me fuck this cunt with condom on—ohh..” gojo’s words were cut off by a guttural moan as he pistoned into you, his balls slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. the sheer intensity of his movements stole your breath, leaving you a mindless, quivering mess beneath him.

geto smirked at gojo’s words, his ego stroked by the obvious envy in the other man’s voice. “what can i say? i like to keep the best for myself,” he replied smugly, continuing his ministrations on your clit.

gojo snorted derisively, but there was no real malice behind it. he focused his efforts on driving into you harder, faster, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from your willing body.

the change in angle hit a spot deep inside you, and suddenly you were teetering on the brink, your entire world narrowing down to the exquisite friction of gojo’s cock pounding into you and geto’s fingers circling your clit.

“oh god, oh god, oh fuuuuck!”

your cries of ecstasy echoed through the room as gojo fucked you with ruthless abandon, his blue eyes blazing with unbridled lust. sweat dripped down his chiseled torso, plastering his silver hair to his forehead as he ravaged your willing body.

geto watched, transfixed, his own arousal straining against the air. the obscene sight of gojo pounding into you, combined with the intoxicating scent of sex, had him teetering on the brink of his own climax.

“yeah, take it all, angel,” gojo hissed, his tempo increasing. “love feeling you squeeze my cock so good.” he reached between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit after swatting geto’s hand away. pinching and rolling the sensitive bud in time with his thrusts, he coaxed your impending orgasm to the surface.

but before neither him nor you get a chance to drown in the climax, gojo abruptly stops and withdraws himself from your sucking cunt, earning a breathless whimper from you— a wordless way of yours to complain about the losing feeling.

gojo’s hands gripping your waist to position you on your side, leaving your knees before throwing one of your legs over his shoulder while he trapped the other between his thighs. gojo grab a vibrator that he abandoned to the bed earlier before kissing the material to your swollen folds. “hold it, baby,” he said. you obey without a second thought, gazing up to meet your boyfriend’s eyes— realizing you’re on eye level with his hardened cock. geto smirk the moment he gazes down to you, a halo of smoke dancing around the air.

geto smirked down at you, his eyes glinting with mischief as he took in the lewd picture you made. “looks like someone’s eager for a taste,” he teased, his hand coming to rest possessively on the back of your head after he crushed the joint to the ashtray.

gojo just grinned wickedly, positioning the buzzing toy against your entrance. “be a good girl and suck him off while i make you cum,” he instructed, his voice rough with desire.

with that, with a flick of his wrist, he turned on the vibrator, the buzzing motor sending electric shocks straight to your core. gojo pressed it firmly against your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. your back arched, a high pitched whine escaping your lips as the device probed your sensitive flesh, stimulating you. your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious friction, even as you leaned forward to take geto’s throbbing length into your mouth. geto groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you to take him deeper.

moaning wantonly around geto’s thick shaft, you surrendered yourself fully to the overwhelming sensations assaulting your senses. the vibrations from the toy against your aching clit had your toes curling, your thighs trembling with the force of your impending release.

gojo watched hungrily as you sucked his friend off, his free hand stroking his own impressive erection. the sight of you, so wanton and debauched, only served to stoke his own arousal higher. “that’s it, angel,” he praised, his voice strained. “take him deep, just like that. fuck, you look so hot with his cock down your throat.”

his filthy words spurred you on, and you hollowed your cheeks, taking geto as far as you could manage. gojo’s hands finding your thigh, hold it firmly to his chest before his one hand guiding his cock to your pucker hole. his glisten tips kissing your anal sex for a moment before gently pushing into the tighten hole making you squeal in pain and pleasure.

geto’s grip on your hair tightened as he thrust deeper, his hips rocking in time with the vibrations of the toy against your clit. “mmm, just like that, baby,“ he groaned, his thighs flexing against your face. “gonna fill your throat with my cum soon.”

at the same moment, gojo slowly pushed past your initial resistance, the broad head of his cock spreading your anal ring wide. a sharp gasp escaped you as he sank in, inch by delicious inch, until he was buried to the hilt in your tight heat.

“fuck, you’re so tight back here,” he breathed, his hands roaming your sides and back, pulling you flush against him. “loving how you stretch around me.”

geto felt your throat constrict around him as you struggled to accommodate both cocks, and it only heightened his pleasure. once fully seated, both men started to move— gojo setting a deep, grinding pace while geto fucked your face with shallow thrusts. they quickly fell into a rhythm, sandwiching you between their hard bodies.

overwhelmed by sensation, you surrendered completely to the dual penetration, your body responding instinctively to the relentless stimulation. the toy continued its merciless assault on your clit, pushing you ever closer to the edge.

gojo’s hands gripped your thigh bruisingly as he slammed into yo, his thick cock stretching you deliciously. “fuck, fuck, fuckkk,” he grunted, his rhythm faltering slightly. “gonna fill this tight little ass up.” you are laying on your side uncomfortably with your head slightly in the air on geto’s thighs while gojo still hold your leg against his chest, resting about the blade of his shoulder.

geto’s grip on your hair tightened, holding you in place “good, good, fucking good girl. always warm and wet for me,” he panted, his hips snapping forward roughly. your muffled moans grew louder, more desperate, as the coil within you wound tighter and tighter. gojo’s grip on your thigh firm and desperate, almost bruise.

“mmm,” you groan, voice muffled by geto’s cock. the vibration sends geto spiraling, throwing his head back to the headboard just a heartbeat before gritting through his teeth along with him tighten his fist on your hair.

“come on, angel,” gojo growled, his hips pistoning frantically now. “i know you're close. come for us. let go.”

geto grabbed the toy from your hand, pressing it right up against your swollen nub. “you heard him, sweetheart. cum for us like a good girl,” he hums, tugging your head down to take him whole and his tip kissing your throat.

he flicked the toy up to max power, the intense vibrations ripping a scream from your throat. gojo redoubled his efforts, slamming into you so hard the headboard shook. that devilish, wicked smile found its way to gojo’s face once again. “good, good, baby, feels good yeah?” he chuckle when your body trembling beneath him.

unable to form coherent thoughts, you simply existed in a haze of pure, unadulterated pleasure. every nerve ending was alight, singing with ecstasy as gojo and geto worked you over relentlessly.

the toy’s brutal vibrations shattered what remained of your control, sending you hurtling towards oblivion. your inner walls clenched around gojo’s pistoning cock, rippling and milking him as your orgasm crashed over you in waves.

“cum.. gonna cum,” you wailed, your vision blurring at the edges as you came undone. your pussy spasmed, gushing around gojo’s cock as he drove into you. hearing your desperate wailing, geto pressed the toy harder which tears a fluid from your cunt, wetting the bed. “i—oh god, fuckkkk.”

gojo’s eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction as he felt your pussy clench around him. you quaked and thrashed beneath them, gojo held himself still, buried to the hilt in your clenching heat. geto didn’t relent either, keeping the vibrator humming away at your oversensitive clit, making sure to prolong your exquisite torment. they wanted to draw out your pleasure, making sure to prolong your exquisite torment. savoring the exquisite feeling of your body writhing helplessly around them.

gojo’s rhythm falters for a brief moment, allowing you to catch your breath, then he resumes his relentless pounding, each thrust hitting a spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. “fuck yes, just like that,” he groaned, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release.

geto watched intently as you squirred, a low, appreciative whistle escaping him. “damn, look at her drench the sheets,” he murmured, turning the toy up another notch. the additional stimulation sent you careening towards another peak, your body trembling and twitching uncontrollably.

gojo’s eyes rolled back, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as he felt your cunt clench around him, milking his cock for all it was worth. “fuck, fuck, angel! good girl, such a good fu-fucking girl,” he roared, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own peak.

geto’s grip on your hair tightened painfully, his hips jerking against your face as he fought to hold back his own release. “not yet, not without her...” he hissed through clenched teeth, his cock pulsing in your mouth.

the toy never ceased its merciless assault, keeping you teetering on the brink of another orgasm even as you were still riding out the aftershocks of the last one. gojo and geto seemed determined to wring every drop of pleasure from you, to leave you a quivering, spent mess in their wake.

your body trembled violently, your mind hazy with lust and exhaustion. the relentless stimulation had reduced you to a babbling, incoherent mess, your pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears.

“please…” you whimpered, unsure if you were begging for release or for them to stop. your body was no longer your own, every nerve ending raw and exposed, sensitive to the slightest touch.

gojo’s thrusts became more erratic, his grip on your hips bruising as he chased his own pleasure. “almost there, angel... gonna fill this sweet ass up.” his words were punctuated by harsh grunts and groans, his rhythm faltering as he neared his peak.

geto’s fingers dug into your scalp, holding you in place as he fucked your face with abandon. “that’s it, baby, take it all,” lost in a sea of overwhelming sensations, you could only surrender to the relentless onslaught of pleasure. your body moved independently of your mind, arching and writhing as gojo and geto took you apart piece by piece.

gojo’s cock hammered into you, each thrust driving you further up the bed. the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your high-pitched keens and geto’s low, encouraging groans. you could feel gojo swelling inside you, his rhythm growing more erratic as he neared his end.

geto’s fingers tightened in your hair, holding you in place as he fucked your face with short, sharp jabs. the toy buzzed furiously against your clit, pushing you inexorably towards another shattering climax.

with a guttural roar, gojo plunged deep, his cock throbbing and jerking as he spilled his hot seed directly into your clenching depths. his hips bucked wildly, grinding against yours as he rode out his intense orgasm, filling you to the brim with his thick, potent cum.

geto groaned long and low, his grip on your hair and scalp flexing with the force of his impending release. he rammed his cock into your mouth one final time, his tip hitting the back of your throat as he erupted with a strangled cry. his cum flooded your mouth, coating your tongue and the roof of your mouth as he pumped spurt after spurt of his release down your eager throat.

the vibrator finally stopped, leaving you limp and trembling in the aftermath of the intense, prolonged pleasure. your entire body shuddered violently as gojo’s hot cum painted your insides, triggering yet another bone-shaking orgasm. your pussy clamped down around him, greedily milking every last drop as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you.

geto’s release hit you like a tidal wave, his salty essence flooding your mouth and threatening to choke you. you swallowed convulsively, trying to keep up with the deluge as he emptied himself down your throat.

when it was finally over, you lay onto the bed, utterly spent and boneless. your limbs felt heavy, your muscles lax and unresponsive. you lay there gasping for air, your chest heaving as you tried to regain some semblance of coherency.

gojo slipped free of your abused hole with a wet pop, his softening cock glistening with the combined evidence of your coupling. he freed your other leg under his only for him to roll you on your back and push your knees to your chest just so he can take a better look at your abused anal, clenches and unclenches with his thick cum.

geto pulled out of your mouth with a wet slurp, his softening cock slipping free from between your parted lips. he licked your lips, tasting the salt of his release mixed with your saliva. a satisfied smirk played on his features as he admired the sight of you laid out before him, cum leaking from your well-fucked holes and staining the sheets beneath you. “god, baby,” he whisper breathlessly.

between gasping for air, gojo chuckle in satisfaction, admire his handiwork— your stretched, cum-filled holes. he pushed his long, slender two fingers into your ass, watching it disappear into the slick, creamy mess he’d created. “look at you, so full and messy,” he purred, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction.

he pulled his finger free, before spreading your legs open once again to stuffed the cum into your swollen cunt. and the man hum in amusement and satisfied, the combination of your juices and his own cum. the picture made him groan, “fuckkk,” he whisper as he watch your cunt clenched around the cum. he lift his head to look at your flustered face, seeing geto’s cum paint your lips, looked up at you with hungry eyes.

geto wiped the remnants of his release from your lips with his thumb, smearing the pearle scent fluid across your cheek in a perverse marking of possession. he leaned in close, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispered, “such a good girl, taking everything we gave you.”

geto chuckled to himself, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he watched you squirm beneath gojo's touch. he leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers. when he finally pulled back, his gaze was heavy-lidded with desire.

“mm, you look so pretty like this,” he purred, trailing his fingers along your jawline, “all marked up and messy with our cum.”

gojo hummed in agreement, his fingers still busy playing with the mixture of fluids leaking from your holes. “mmm, i think our little angel deserves a reward for being such a perfect slut for us, don’t you agree, suguru?”

he pressed two fingers into your swollen, sensitive cunt, stirring up the cum already inside you. your walls fluttered weakly around the intrusion, too tired to do much else but clench feebly.

gojo grinned wickedly, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he withdrew his fingers from your cum-filled cunt. “oh, i have an idea,” he purred, his voice dripping with dark promise.

he glanced over at geto, “why don’t you come over here and help me clean up our little angel?” geto raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face as he caught on to gojo’s suggestion. “with pleasure,” he drawled, sauntering over to join the white-haired man.

together, they knelt between your spread thighs, their faces mere inches from your abused, dripping sex. gojo reached out, spreading your folds wide, exposing your tender flesh to their hungry gazes.

“look how messy she is,” gojo said, his tone teasing and approving. “so much of our cum leaking out of her poor, stretched holes. it’s almost a shame to clean her up...”

geto hummed in agreement, leaning in closer to inspect the mixture of fluids coating your inner thighs. “such a beautiful mess,” he murmured appreciatively. he turned his attention to your cum-soaked cunt, watching as it twitched and clenched around nothing. “so needy,” he purred, tracing a finger through the wetness pooling around your entrance.

his finger dipped lower, finding your tight asshole and circling the puckered flesh teasingly. “and so full,” he added with a chuckle, giving the sensitive ring a gentle squeeze.

your breath hitched as geto’s finger circled your asshole, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through your oversensitive body. your mind reeled, struggling to process the intensity of what had just happened— the brutal fucking, the overwhelming orgasms, the sheer depravity of it all.

but even as your brain tried to make sense of it, your body betrayed you, responding eagerly to the touch. your asshole clenched reflexively around geto's probing finger, a soft whimper escaping your lips. gojo noticed your reaction, a knowing glint in his eye. “see, suguru?” he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. “our little angel loves having her ass played with.”

geto’s gaze flicked to your face, then back to where his finger was working its magic on your most intimate hole. your entire body tensed as both men settled between your thighs, their heated gazes fixed on your most intimate places. you could feel the cool air of the room caressing your overheated skin, making you shiver despite the lingering heat coursing through your veins.

gojo’s fingers parted your swollen lips, baring your aching core to their view. you whimpered softly as he exposed you further, feeling vulnerable and yet excited by their intense focus on your body.

geto’s teasing touches sent jolts of sensation zinging through you making your hips twitch involuntarily. you moaned breathlessly as he circled your clit, the bundle of nerves still overly sensitive from the intense orgasms they’d wrung from you.

“please... too sensitive,” you gasped out, not even sure what you were wanting anymore. more? less? something in between?

gojo tutted, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “now, now, little one. we can’t leave you all messy like this,” he scolded playfully, his fingers still holding your folds open. “don’t you want to be nice and clean for us?”

geto chuckled darkly, his finger still teasing circles around your clit for a second before finding your puckering hole once again. “mmm, yes, we wouldn’t want my precious angel to be uncomfortable, would we?” his tone was laced with false concern, belying the hunger in his eyes.

geto now seemed intent on pushing past your limits. his finger probed deeper into your ass, stretching the tight muscle incrementally. you bit back a cry, your body instinctively trying to resist the foreign intrusion. “shh, relax,” geto coaxed, his tone soothing despite the boldness of his actions. “let me in and be a good girl.”

as if to emphasize his point, he pressed harder, his finger sliding deeper into your ass until he bottomed out. a strangled moan tore from your throat at the sudden fullness, your inner walls clamping down reflexively around the invading digit.

your body trembled as geto pushed deeper into your ass, the intrusion stretching you wider than you thought possible. you cried out, the sound echoing in the quiet room, your body arching off the bed as another wave of pleasure-pain coursed through you.

your muscles spasmed around geto's finger, gripping him tightly as he continued to push deeper. the sensation was unlike anything you'd ever experienced, the burn of discomfort mingling with the sweet ache of pleasure. you felt yourself teetering on the edge of pain, the line blurring as your body adjusted to the new sensations.

you couldn't help but buck your hips, desperate for some sort of friction. your cunt throbbed, empty and neglected, the need for release gnawing at you. “don’t...” you weakly attempt to stop geto making your boyfriend chuckle in mockery.

gojo smirked at your feeble protest, clearly amused by your predicament. “aww, does my little slut want more?” he teased, pressing his fingers deeper into your abused slit. your cunt clenched greedily around the digits, still craving more despite the copious amounts of cum already filling you.

geto hummed thoughtfully as he began to move his finger in and out of your ass, slowly building up a rhythm. each thrust sent sparks of sensation shooting through you, your body quivering under the onslaught.

“you’re doing so well, taking me so deep,” geto praised, his voice low and gravelly with arousal. “i bet you’d let me put my cock in here, wouldn’t you, baby? stretch this tight little hole even wider...”

your body shook violently as geto’s words washed over you, the dark fantasy he painted igniting a fire within you. the thought of taking his thick cock in your ass, of being split open and filled to capacity, made your head spin with desire once again.

“no, no, baby don’t,” you whimpered, aside from your whimper, you are unable to deny the truth in his statement. your resolve crumbled under the relentless assault on your senses, leaving you a quivering, malleable thing, eager to submit to whatever twisted desires they might have.

geto’s finger pumped steadily into your ass, each thrust hitting that spot deep inside that made your vision blur and your toes curl. your pussy gushed around gojo’s fingers, the slick fluid easing the way as he worked two digits into your cunt now, scissoring them apart to stretch you wider.

gojo’s eyes gleamed with triumph as he watched your body respond so eagerly to their ministrations. he curled his fingers inside your cunt, rubbing against that special spot that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

“that’s it, take it,” he growled, his voice rough with lust, “take our fingers like the desperate little whore you are.“

geto, emboldened by your lack of resistance, added a second finger to your ass, stretching you even wider. the dual penetration had you seeing white, your body convulsing uncontrollably as you teetered on the brink of another earth-shattering orgasm.

“so close already?” geto taunted, pumping his fingers faster. “come on, angel. give us another one. show us how badly you need it.”

your body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release. the dual stimulation of gojo’s fingers in your cunt and geto’s in your ass was almost too much to bear, pushing you higher and higher towards that elusive peak.

“mmm, cum, wanna cum!” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as you bucked wildly against their hands. your hips moved of their own accord, seeking more of that delicious friction, more of the mind-numbing pleasure that only they could provide.

you could feel your orgasm building, the pressure mounting deep inside you until it finally exploded outward in a blinding rush of ecstasy. your body convulsed violently, your inner walls clamping down hard on the fingers still buried inside you as you came harder than you had earlier.

gojo and geto watched intently as your climax overtook you, their faces alight with smug satisfaction. they didn’t relent, continuing to stroke your throbbing sex and plunder your stretched holes throughout the duration of your orgasm.

“that’s it, milk our fingers,” gojo purred, his voice dripping with sensual approval. “such a good girl, coming so hard for us.”

geto’s expression was darker, his eyes burning with possessive hunger as he felt your insides ripple around his fingers. “fuck, look at her,” he groaned, pumping his digits faster, “so beautiful when she’s lost in pleasure.”

as the aftershocks faded, they slowly withdrew their fingers, leaving you limp and trembling in their wake. your entire body felt boneless, completely spent from the intense orgasms they had wrung from you. you lay there panting, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath, your skin flushed and damp with perspiration.

you could feel their gazes raking over your naked form, drinking in the sight of you sprawled out so wantonly before them. it made you shiver, knowing how thoroughly they had debauched you, reduced you to nothing more than a puddle of sated flesh and needy nerves.

geto’s eyes soften along with his smile. your eyes meet his, interlink with the trembling of your body and crushed cherry on your cheeks, making you as beautiful as ever. he leans down to kiss your forehead. “good girl, such a good girl,” he whisper. “are you tired?” he asked after, the tone of his voice coating with gentleness and tenderness.

“you did...great, doll,” gojo purred, a satisfied grin on his face as he watched you catch your breath.

you could still feel the effects of their combined attention settling in your bones, sending shivers down your spine. the way their eyes lingered on you, taking in every detail of your form, made your heart race, their gaze almost a physical touch on your skin, igniting goosebumps in its wake.

geto’s reassuring words and the gentle kiss on your forehead only heightened this feeling of exposure, vulnerability, and a soft exhaustion that coated everything in a hazy, pleasurable buzz.

a soft, breathy laugh escaped your lips, your eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze as he spoke, his voice gentle and understanding. “a wreck,” you whispered, your voice a soft murmur, “this was...a lot, even for me,” you added, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of your mouth.

you reached out, your fingers lightly tracing a path along his cheek, your eyes meeting his. “but,”you continued, your tone slightly playful, “i’m happy.” your attention fully on your boyfriend, leaving gojo on the side, making the man roll his eyes in annoyance. how dare you ignore him after he give you the pleasure.

“oh, so it's like that, huh?” gojo teased, his tone a mix of feigned hurt and playful jealousy. as he observed the intimate moment between you and geto, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. he had just given you such pleasure, and now you were focused on his best friend, leaving him out of the moment. the thought sparked a small spark of anger in him, making him want to regain your attention. as you turned your attention back to him, he felt a twinge of victory, but his ego still craved more.

“well, doll, looks like i managed to wear you out,” he joked, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. as his fingers traced lightly along your neck, his touch carrying a soft threat, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of dominance. it was a subtle challenge, a reminder of the power he held over you. he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “but if you still have energy left, i promise i’ll make sure to keep you up all night.”

geto rolled his eyes, an exasperated smirk crossing his face as he slapped gojo’s hand away from your skin, a touch of protectiveness flashing in his eyes. “that’s enough for tonight,” he muttered, his voice firm but calm, his gaze flickering over your tired form. “she’s exhausted, satoru, don’t push it.”

with a dismissive shake of his head, he reached over, grabbing a pillow and carefully placing it at the foot of the bed, ensuring the sheets stayed clean. he pulled you close, guiding your naked, worn-out, marked body against his own, his arms wrapping around you in a secure embrace. his warmth and steady heartbeat offered a sense of comfort, a grounding contrast to gojo’s relentless energy.

as you nestled against geto, he gently ran his hand through your hair, a silent reassurance that he had you, that you could finally rest. his fingers traced lightly over the marks on your skin, a faint hint of pride in his gaze, as if each mark was a testament to the moments you’d shared.

gojo frowned, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes as geto’s voice cut through the air. he watched silently as geto intervened, a soft, but stern command, dismissing gojo’s antics as he wrapped you up in a warm, protective embrace.

his gaze softened, though, his expression filled with a mix of annoyance and amusement. after all, he knew he wasn’t always easy to handle, and he respected geto’s restraint, even if it meant ending their game for the night. he let out a soft, playful chuckle, trying to conceal his disappointment.

despite the flicker of annoyance still lingering in his eyes, gojo couldn’t deny the unspoken boundary that geto had set. he knew well enough that you were geto’s girlfriend, not his, and despite the twisted game you three played, there was always a line he couldn’t cross. so, with a sigh of playful defeat, he grabbed another pillow, placing it beside you as he slid down onto the mattress.

he wrapped his arm around your waist, settling close as he pulled the thin sheet over the three of you, blanketing the room in a soft, cozy warmth. his head rested gently against your bare back, a comforting weight, even as he tried to mask his earlier disappointment with a low, lazy chuckle.

as he lay there, a subtle dampness on the sheet caught his attention—a trace of everything the night had held. instead of moving away, he stayed close, almost comforted by it. for him, that small reminder was proof of the intimacy you’d shared, of a connection deeper than any fleeting frustration.

“rest now, baby,” he whispered, kissing your back without moving his head.

he let his fingers idly toy with a strand of your hair, his eyes fixed on a distant point in the room, his mood still a bit tense. there was a quiet, contemplative silence between the two of you, a subtle tension still lingering in the air. despite this, he didn’t move away, his arm remaining wrapped around your form, a slight smile tugging at his lips as his attention turned back to you.

“hey,” his voice was a gentle murmur, teasing yet affectionate. “next time, i call dibs.”

geto let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes as he reached over and smacked gojo on the back of the head—a light but firm reminder. “if you want to call dibs, go get your own girlfriend,” he muttered, his tone laced with playful irritation.

gojo chuckled, rubbing the spot where geto’s hand landed, feigning a hurt expression before leaning back against the headboard. “aww, come on, suguru, don’t be so stingy,” he teased, flashing a mischievous grin. despite his joking demeanor, he settled into the quiet, enjoying the familiar banter as he kept an arm around you, savoring the warmth of the moment.

geto just shook his head, smirking slightly as he held you close, a silent reminder to gojo that some things were his alone. gojo scowled, rubbing the back of his head where geto had smacked him, a pout on his lips as he responded with a huff. “you know i don’t do relationships like that,” he complained, his voice teasing and lighthearted.

gojo pushed himself up a little, his scowl softening as he leaned down to press a trail of light kisses along your bare shoulder, working his way up to your cheek. you couldn’t help but giggle at the gentle, ticklish touch, a smile tugging at your lips as he finished with one last lingering kiss.

“besides...” he teased, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he glanced between you and geto with a smirk, a firm squeeze of your breast. a playful, teasing gesture that seemed to test the limits of his friend’s patience, although this time, geto’s exasperation seemed to be mixed with a touch of amusement. “this dollie here doesn’t seem to mind at all.”

geto sighed, rolling his eyes, though a small smirk hinted that he found the moment amusing. “she might not mind, but don’t push it,” he warned, his tone light as he pulled you a bit closer, almost as if staking his claim.

gojo chuckled, leaning in to steal another kiss from your lips before pulling away with a mischievous glint in his eyes. he looked over at geto, a playful smirk on his face, and teased with a cocky, “oh yeah?” his tone almost challenging.

geto shot him a pointed look, a mix of warning and annoyance in his gaze, but there was no real irritation there. instead, a subtle amusement hinted at the corners of his lips. he seemed to enjoy this playful back-and-forth between you three, even if he occasionally had to keep gojo in check.

gojo leaned back, his smirk never leaving his face. he knew he was treading a fine line between playful teasing and overstepping, but he couldn’t help himself. he thrived off the thrill of testing geto's limits, pushing just far enough to keep things interesting. the chemistry between you three was undeniable, each of you feeding off the other’s energy in a way that was intoxicating.

geto’s grip on you tightened ever so slightly, a silent reminder that he wasn’t going to be pushed around—his quiet way of asserting his place in this complicated relationship.

as gojo settled back against the wooden board of the bed feet, his gaze shifted from geto to yourself, an amused spark still dancing in his eyes as he glanced at you. “what about you, doll,” he asked, his tone casual, yet laced with curiosity. “have we worn you out, or are you up for a few more rounds today?”

geto rolled his eyes, his arm wrapping possessively around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “don’t even think about it, satoru,” he warned, his voice firm but lacking any genuine anger.

you nestled yourself deeper into geto’s embrace, letting his warmth soothe you as you closed your eyes. a soft, contented sigh escaped your lips, your head resting comfortably against his chest. “mmm… tired,” you mumbled sleepily, barely managing the words as a gentle smile played on your lips.

gojo let out a quiet, amused chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned back, though you could feel his gaze still lingering on you. “guess that’s a ‘no’ for me, then,” he teased softly, his tone lighthearted, but there was a fondness in his voice that made you smile.

geto’s fingers gently traced comforting patterns along your back, his touch soothing as he murmured, “just rest, sweetheart.” his voice was soft, filled with a tenderness that only came out in quiet moments like this, and with that, the gentle rise and fall of his breathing lulled you further into peace, making the room fade into a warm, sleepy haze.

geto pressed a gentle kiss into your hair, the sound of his heartbeat beneath you steady and soothing. gojo's playful energy had been replaced by a contented silence, and even he seemed to settle into this peaceful moment, his eyes fixated on your figure.

an almost drowsy haze filled the room, the three in the bed creating a calm bubble within the surrounding silence. it almost felt like the whole world had paused, the moment frozen in a quiet, intimate tableau.

gojo, meanwhile, watched the two of you with a hint of longing. he was playful and often enjoyed being the center of attention, so seeing you resting so contentedly in geto’s arms stirred a slight pang of disappointment within him. he crossed his arms, letting out a soft sigh, almost sulking for a moment as he processed the sight of you so peacefully held by geto. finally, with a resigned sigh, gojo shifted back onto the bed beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting his head gently on your back. he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against your shoulder, surrendering to the quiet intimacy of the moment.

as you nestled into geto’s arms, feeling his gentle kiss pressed into your hair and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the warmth between you two was comforting and secure. geto, your boyfriend, held you protectively, his quiet strength radiating through his embrace. his presence was reassuring, providing a calmness that made it easy for you to relax.

“fine… let’s just sleep,” he murmured, a trace of a smile on his lips as he settled down, feeling content with the closeness of simply being beside you both. even though geto was your boyfriend, gojo had carved his place in these cherished moments, creating a warm, close bond between the three of you, built on trust, care, and shared affection.

as gojo settled behind you, his arm gently draped around your waist, a sense of warmth and closeness enveloped you. geto’s steady heartbeat and the soft rise and fall of his chest provided a comforting embrace, a reminder of the love and security you had found in him.

gojo’s soft, warm breath tickled the nape of your neck, lulling you into a deep, restful sleep. the gentle touch of his lips against your shoulder created a small, contented smile on your face as you surrendered to the peaceful haze of sleep, feeling loved and cherished by the two men beside you.

#suki☆#gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #gojo smut #anime smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #satosugu smut #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #gojo x y/n #geto x y/n #gojo satoru #geto suguru #f!reader

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citrusrei · 5 days ago

Text

a lil' something sweet

Farmhand! Joel x Married! Reader

summary: After your husbands aunt passes away, he takes on the responsibility of caring after the beloved family farm. Coming from the city after living there your whole life to moving to a huge farm in the middle of nowhere is a shock to you. But what shocks you even more is the comfort you find from the live-in farmhand, Joel Miller.

word count: 25.5k

warnings/tags: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. no outbreak AU. non canon Joel. country side on a farm type shit. Joel is a lonely man. Kinda creepy but in a sexy way. heavy petting. thigh riding. Joel finishes in his pants. Infidelity (oops). joel's possessive but not in a toxic way (outloud). unprotected p-in-v sex. creampies. slight breeding kink if you squint right. age gap. reader is mid to late 20's and joel is pushin' 50. petnames (baby, baby doll, baby girl, darlin', ya know). readers husband is a real dick. slight fatshaming (we hate the husband). joel makes it better. lots of soft touches and kisses. fluffy, angsty, smutty. happy ending. (no y/n, reader is AFAB. minimal physical descriptions)

a/n: this was fun to write cause desperate, needy joel is my absolute favorite thing. also the word count makes me go brrr cause wdym it's so long?? and while we don't usuallyyy fuck with infidelity, it was warranted here. please pay attention to the warnings if you don't like any of what is mentioned, don't read it. thank u all tho and i hope u enjoy it ~

this was a long mf time coming

You were never a fan of the countryside. Being somewhere so far from civilization terrified you. What do you mean the nearest big grocery store was over an hour away… in each direction? So, when your husband told you his Aunt Karla had passed, and that he’d be taking care of the family farm, you began to panic. You were sympathetic of course and consoled him as best you could, but leaving the city? Hell, you'd even considered divorce; it was that serious. Not really, but almost.

The drive was long and tiring. You’d rented a moving truck and packed all your belongings from your hometown and drove the seven hours it took to reach his aunt's farm. Anxiety set in almost immediately as the tall buildings and fast-food restaurants on every other corner disappeared. Trees and fields and wildflowers surrounded your view as the long and narrow highway seemed to go on forever. Your husband, Luke, decided to make a few pit stops for gas or bathroom breaks, even a quick fuck in the front seat on the side of the road- which, you weren’t really all that into.

Seven grueling hours later, the farm came into view. It was a lot larger than what you thought it was going to be. The two-story farm home sat in the middle of the plot of land, surrounded by lots of trees. A big, peeling red barn sat to the left and to the right, at least two or three horses roamed in a fenced area. What was Luke thinking? You had never stepped foot on a farm in your life besides maybe an elementary school field trip 20 years ago. How did he think you’d be able to handle a barn full of animals?

Luke parked the moving van in front of the house which sat on a hill. Concrete stairs led up to the front door and you sighed, dreading the trips back and forth. Luke gave you a pointed look before sighing himself.

“Listen… we’re doing my family a favor by taking over the farm. And it's not going to be forever. Just a couple years and then when Nick gets back from the Marines, he said he’d take it and then we’ll head back to the city, okay?” Luke says in annoyance, mentioning his brother. You nod, grabbing your purse from the front seat and heading up the stairs to check the house out.

Stepping inside felt surreal, like you’d gone into a different decade as you gazed at all the antique furniture, hutches with fine China, and flowered wallpaper. You couldn’t help but let out a deep breath as you set your purse down, walking into the kitchen. It was nice and quaint, and honestly it made you feel some semblance of comfort as you took in the marble counter tops and Chicken themed decorations.

You loved to cook and bake, and as you saw the built-in pasta maker on the counter and the bread oven on the far wall, you had a thought that maybe you could do this. Maybe you could make this work.

After a moment, Luke steps inside as you wander around the house, noting the three bedrooms and the two and a half baths the home has to offer. He huffs out heavily, setting down three boxes stacked on one another. “Uh, honey? Are you going to help or what?” he asks, a bit of bite to his tone.

“Sorry, I was just checking everything out. The master bedroom is nice! But it’s kinda stuffy in here. Where do I turn the AC on?” You ask curiously only to be met with a scowl. Your eyebrows knit in confusion as you wait for him to answer.

“Jesus… This house was made in like, 1803. There’s no air conditioning, babe. If it’s stuffy, open the windows.” Luke says as he turns around, heading back to the truck.

You throw your head back in frustration. No grocery stores nearby, no air conditioning, all these damn animals, and of course Luke being an asshole about it all. You’d been quiet about this whole thing since Luke told you, not asked, but told you he’d taken over his aunt's farm. You didn’t want to complain or make it seem like an inconvenience when he was grieving. But it was. You weren’t cut out for this life and that was okay. Unfortunately, you loved your husband and told yourself to at least give it a shot. That was a decision you were beginning to regret.

“Come on! I’m doing all the work here!” Luke yells from the truck, bringing you from your thoughts. You close your eyes for a moment longer before heading down the steps to help him. Maybe he’ll be in a better mood once you’re done setting everything up. At least you could only hope.

A few hours pass and you have most of your belongings unpacked. You’d left a lot of stuff back at your apartment in the city since your sister was going to take over your lease while you were away. All that was left to be taken care of was the bedroom stuff.

Your eyes settle on the cuckoo clock as it chimes, 6pm already. You excuse yourself from unpacking as you head downstairs to start working on dinner. Luke groans about how he’s had to do all the work all day, but lets you go downstairs to cook. Nodding, you head down the steps into the kitchen, figuring out where to start.

After Karla passed, a lot of the stuff she had was packed and separated between family members, but they left the kitchen alone. You opened the fridge, deciding to start there. It was still full of stuff, and you began to make a mental note of what ingredients you saw. A couple fresh eggs, milk, butter, some different meats and veggies. After checking the rest of the kitchen, you came up with the idea of breakfast for dinner. Waffles, eggs, and bacon.

As you got to work, you didn’t notice the back porch door swing wide open. And you definitely didn’t notice the man that came in through it. He sets a basket of farm fresh eggs on the counter, bringing you from your thoughts as you whisk together the batter.

Your eyes widen as you jump with a yelp, clutching your chest as the man stares at you with a blank expression. He doesn’t offer his hand or anything, he just stares and says, “Joel.”

As your heart settles, you nod slowly. “Your name is Joel?

Joel nods too, his eyes leaving yours as he sees Luke enter the room.

“Honey, what’s the matter, why did you yell? Oh! You’ve met Joel.” Luke smiles, “Babe, this is Joel Miller. He’s the farm hand. He takes care of the animals and stuff, cleans the farm up, gathers… eggs. He’s worked for my aunt forever.” Luke continues as his eyes glance down at the basket Joel brought in.

“Nice to meet you, Joel. Sorry, I was really concentrated on making this waffle batter I didn’t even hear you come in.” You say softly, a small smile on your lips.

“’S okay. I can be kinda quiet sometimes. I’ll holler next time I drop the eggs off.” Joel speaks. His voice is gruff and low. Somehow nostalgic, or at least that’s what you thought as your chest fills with a familiar feeling. Your eyes traveled to his as you smiled, taking in the features of this stranger.

He was older. Maybe in his early 50’s or late 40’s. He had a broad nose with a scar on the bridge. His chocolate brown eyes seem tired, but kind; inviting. His hair was dark and graying and as your eyes traveled lower, you noticed how his arms seemed to bulge under the dirtied, navy-blue shirt he was in. ‘Handsome’ was the first word to pop into your mind. You cleared your throat and looked at Luke who seemed annoyed about something. What’s new?

“Well, see you folks later. It was nice meetin’ you, sweetheart.” Joel says as he makes his leave. You watch him go before turning back to the batter, trying to finish everything up. Once dinner time finally arrives, Luke ends up complaining the entirety of the meal about how waffles are breakfast food and having them for dinner is like a crime against humanity. You think it’s funny how he eats them anyways.

The first night here sucks. It’s incredibly hot as the thick quilt on his aunt's bed sticks to your skin. Sweat beads from your forehead as you toss and turn, dripping down your neck and back. Deciding you can’t do it anymore, you throw the comforter off you and stomp downstairs, irritated by every little thing from today. The long drive, the car sex, Luke’s attitude, the heat. You head through the kitchen to the back porch, and you finally get relief in the form of the cool night breeze. You feel your sweat dry against your skin, leaving you sticky but honestly, you couldn’t care less right now. The breeze has a nip to it, signaling summers soon-to-be end, and you couldn’t wait.

Your eyes close, savoring the fresh air against your cheeks. You don’t know how much time passes but you only open them when you hear the sound of a guitar in the wind. Looking around the backyard, you notice a small guest house down the hill. It had to be Joel’s. The porch light is on, the front door open, and before you can even think, you begin to walk towards it.

The tiny home isn’t far away from the main house, but a good enough distance that you realize you probably should have put shoes on. Gravel digs into your heels, but it doesn’t hurt. The guitar becomes louder as you approach, a melancholic tune strummed from the strings. As you reach the house, doubt fills your mind. You probably shouldn’t even be here just showing up like some creep. But you also figure you’ve come this far… Plus, it’d be nice to get to know him in some capacity considering he works here on the farm you’ll be living on. Or that’s what you tell yourself.

You step quietly onto the wood porch, savoring the cool night air and the sadness of his guitar. Now that you’re closer, you can hear Joel humming too. An unsure smile etches on to your face as you walk into the doorway, working up the courage before knocking on the wood.

“Hey… sorry to bother you.” You say softly, not wanting to alarm him.

Joel looks up to you in surprise, his fingers stop against the neck of his guitar. “Oh, well, hi there. What can I do for you?”

“Oh! Nothing. I was… I was just on the back porch trying to cool off and I heard a guitar. Figured this is where you stay, and I thought I’d come and say hi. Maybe listen to you play for a bit?” You say nervously. You almost feel embarrassed. You don’t even know this man.

Joel looks a bit confused at first before nodding to the couch next to his rocking chair he’s sitting in. You pad into the house with little steps before sitting down. Your body flushes with nerves as you look at him, like you’re waiting for something to happen.

Joel doesn’t say anything. He just begins to play again, a different song this time. You settle into the plaid couch as he strums, the cool air from the front door being open blows in and you shiver. Your eyes widen as you realize you’re in your ivory, silk nightie and embarrassment floods your cheeks for real this time. Joel probably thinks you’re insane, or maybe he thinks you’re wanting to seduce him. Which, no, of course you weren't; you’re married! Red flushes against your cheeks and you subconsciously pull your nightgown down, trying to cover your knees.

Joel plays for a while before speaking. He clears his throat, hesitating a moment, “So… you know who George Jones is?” He asks. You shake your head, a smile on your lips. “No, can’t say I do. Who is he?”

He smiles softly too, at least you think it’s a smile. “He was a country singer… Old country singer from way before you were even a twinkle in your mama’s eyes. Has a lot of sad songs, which I like to play, I guess. But uh… 'was just wondering if you knew his music. I'll play one of his songs for you.” You nod curiously, adjusting your body to give him your full attention.

The song starts off slow, his fingers moving expertly along the frets of the guitar, rough voice singing low.

“He said, ‘I’ll love you till I die’. She said, ‘You’ll forget in time’. As the years went slowly by, she still preyed upon his mind.”

Your eyes widen at the lyric's, realizing Joel was probably right. This was a sad song. You weren’t expecting him to sing either. But you didn’t mind it. It was really nice actually. It was so melodic and entrancing, you don't take notice of the dust of pink that kissed the apples of your cheeks.

You sit and listen to him perform through this song that breaks your heart and he finally gets to the chorus.

“He stopped loving her today. They placed a wreath upon his door. And soon they’ll carry him away. He stopped loving her today.”

You suck a breath quick breath, feeling your vision blur as he finishes the song. By the time it's over, your head rests in your palms against the arm of the couch, watching Joel intently as tears pool in your eyes. Joel stops, placing his hand against the strings as he looks at you, his own eyes widening at the shimmer in yours.

“Wait-what’s wrong, darli-”

“He died?” You exclaim emotionally, a tear slipping out. “That song is about a man who loves this woman even though they’re not together anymore but only stops ‘cause he dies? And she goes to his funeral?” Your eyes close as you sit up. Those welled up tears falling against your cheeks. “That’s so sad."

Joel chuckles softly, setting his guitar against the end table. “I did tell you I like to play them sad songs, did I not?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it was sad like that. Like, maybe it was about a man losing his horse. Or selling his tractor for a new one. Not about loving his soulmate and then dying!” You cry.

“’m sorry, darlin’. Didn’t mean to make you cry. Just thought you might like it.” He says apologetically, passing you his handkerchief from his pocket.

“No, no. I did like it. You’re talented, Joel, I just… damn… that was so… sad.” You sigh as you take the handkerchief and wipe your tears before letting your hands fall into your lap. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cry. I’ve just… had a day.”

Joel’s eyebrow quirks, “That Luke boy of yours being a brat?”

Your eyes snap to the older man and you nod slightly. “I mean, kinda. He’s just… been on one lately. I think it’s the stress of moving here so quickly. I mean, we uprooted our whole lives and moved here within a week of Karla passing. It’s been a lot for both of us.” You breathe out. You hadn’t mentioned your frustrations to anyone, but it felt good to say something. You’d been keeping it in too long for your liking.

Joel sighs knowingly, “Yeah, I can imagine. Packin’ up your life then moving to a place you’ve never been before. It’s gotta be hard.” He pauses for a moment, debating his next words, “Uh, Karla loved her nephew… But Luke would come here during the summer when he was little, and he was uh… quite the handful to say the least. Seems like he still is.” Joel reaches for his glass of what you assumed to be whiskey or bourbon based on the color, the ice in the cup long melted as the condensation trickles down the sides. You pause for a moment, watching him sip on the liquid, his Adams apple bobbing up and down. You suddenly felt parched too.

“I mean he’s stubborn, sure… but he has good moments. I wouldn’t have married him if he didn’t.” You say quietly, your voice trailing off.

Joel eyes you for a second and hums in acknowledgment. “I didn’t say he didn’t have his good moments, darlin’.”

You bite your lip after he says that. You didn’t need to justify anything to him. It was just… habit. You'd always stood up for him. Luke was a good guy. You thought so at least. Maybe others didn't.

He sets his glass down on the table next to him and looks up to the clock. It reads just past one in the morning. “Well, I don’t mean to be a bad host but it’s gettin’ late. Don’t want your husband thinkin’ you gone missing on him, huh?”

Your eyes widen as you realize the time and you stand up, adjusting your nightgown again. “No, you’re right. I lost track of time. And honestly Luke might throw a fit if he wakes up and I’m not there.” You hover around the couch for a moment longer before heading towards the door. Looking back at Joel, you notice him looking right back at you. “Thanks for playing me some music. It was a well needed peaceful moment after my day. Even if you made me cry.”

Joel let’s out an amused breath, “Yeah, well, don’t get used to no personal concerts. It was a special occasion tonight for your first night here. Alright?”

“Got it. Thanks again, Joel. I’m sure I’ll see you soon. Have a good night, okay?” You say as you wave and make your way back to the house, feeling slightly better than earlier. Joel nods at you, watching you make your way back inside before he shuts his own door, sighing to himself and shaking his head.

As you reach the house and shut the back door behind you, you realize you still had Joel’s green handkerchief, gripped in your palm. A sigh leaves your lips as you make a mental note to give it back to him tomorrow after washing it. You tuck it away in the laundry basket by the door and then head upstairs, making sure to be as quiet as possible as you slip back into bed. Luke turns in his sleep; throwing am arm over you. It’s comforting. Something he hasn’t done in a while. You smile as you begin to drift off, feeling safe in your husband's arms. As sleep beckons you, you don’t even realize how your thoughts drift back to your time with Joel. The way his fingers strummed against the guitar, and the way his low voice rasped the sad words of that George Jones song. Or the way he looked at you, his eyes locked on to yours as tears welled up, the softness his molasses-colored ones held.

About a month passes of the farm life and it’s really not so bad. Yeah, you kinda hate the smell that lingers from the barn, and you hate that damn rooster that crows every morning at 6 on the dot. But other than that, it hasn’t been too bad. You even learn there’s a local grocery store up the road a couple miles and although the prices are up charged a bit, you’re able to get your comfort bag of Hot Cheetos here and there.

Luke has been an asshole still, sadly. Especially now that he’s working remotely, and the internet out here sucks. And now that you’re not working, since you had to quit your job before moving here, there isn’t much for you to do to pass the time.

Your days consist of cleaning the house, doing laundry, napping on the green velvet couch Karla had as old soap operas play in the background. You like to walk around the property sometimes, finding that being around nature isn’t horrible. The sound of the leaves shaking with the wind and the crickets by the creek in the back have become relaxing to you. Who would have thought?

What really has been getting you by however, is baking. Karla had dozens of cookbooks from the 60’s and 70’s all filled with interesting, and sometimes disgusting recipes. In the last month you’d made maybe 10 loaves of bread, such as pumpkin, zucchini, banana, apple cinnamon, and even an olive and ham loaf… that one was a fat no. You’d made different small cakes and tarts and while they all never went to waste; Luke never tried them. Every time you’d knock on the door with a small plate of whatever you’d made, he’d scowl, turning his nose up and then look back at his computer. It was disheartening.

But today was going to be a good day. You’d pulled your latest creation out of the oven, filling the kitchen with a sweet, homey scent. You couldn’t wait to try it. Immediately, you stuck your fork into it and then into your mouth. Despite the molten filling singing your taste buds, your eyes shut in pleasure. It was fucking delicious. Beaming down at your treat, you decided to cut Luke a slice of your very first ever, homemade cherry pie. You were so proud of it. The crumb had the perfect texture, the cherry filling had the perfect amount of tart to sweet ratio, and even the lattice was perfect, a little heart placed in the middle. You knew he was probably not going to want it, but you were going to try anyways.

After climbing the steps to where he was, you tapped against the wood of the doorway, plate and pie in hand as you smiled warmly, “Hi, honey. I made this cherry pie and it’s literally the most amazing thing I’ve ever made-”

“I don’t want any.” Luke says, cutting your sentence off. You falter a moment, but you know if he tried it, he would love it. He loves cherries.

“I think you should just have a bite! I’m telling you; you’ll like it.” You offer, stepping closer to him.

Luke sighs and you know he’s about to give you an earful, “I said I don’t want any of your damn pie,” He seethes, “You offer me everything you make, and have I accepted it once?”

Your cheeks heat up as tears prick your eyes and you kind of regret even trying to ask. You want to respond and yell back but you also don’t want to argue. You don’t know where your sweet, loving husband went and it hurts. Luke turns in his computer chair and his eyes are glazed with venom as he stares you down, “So, stop asking me. I don’t want them. You shouldn’t even be eating that shit anyways, you’re getting fat.”

Luke turns back to his computer and begins to click at the keys, clearly done with the conversation. You grip the plate in your hand, biting back the tears that threaten to spill as you go to leave the room. As soon as you step out of it, Luke shuts the door behind you. Your heart clenches in your chest as the tears fall. When did he become so cold? What had you done to make him do a 180 like this? How can you fix it? Or is it even fixable?

Questions swirl through your mind as you pad down the stairs, feeling small and wanting to coil into yourself but as you enter the kitchen, you notice Joel has stepped in. He sets the basket of a dozen or so eggs on the counter as he does every Tuesday. His eyes glance at the pie and then up to you, concern etching into his features.

Joel doesn’t want to ask what’s wrong, just cause you two still don’t know each other that well, but it’s like he can’t help himself.

“What’s’a matter, darlin’? Everythin’ okay?” He asks, eyes set tightly on your face.

Your brows knit together as you swallow back the burn of more tears in your throat and you nod, “Yeah, I’m okay. Don’t worry.” You say as you set the pie on the counter. Joel eyes it and he can feel his stomach begin to rumble. You notice his gaze on the pie, and you can’t help but smile. Letting out a breathy laugh, you allow yourself to relax a bit in his presence. He radiates this genuine aura, and you can’t help how it attracts you to him like a moth to a flame.

“You like pie?” You ask curiously.

Joel nods, “Yes, ma’am. Cherry is my second favorite, next to pecan, of course.”

Without hesitation, you push the plate over to Joel on the other side of the counter, “Help yourself. Luke doesn’t want it.”

Joels eyes widen in confusion, “How can a man deny a woman a slice of her homemade cherry pie? He on a diet or something?” He asks as he takes the plate and fork, diving right in. You shrug at his words, not caring anymore. You watch Joel’s reaction as he takes his first bite and it’s… something.

He chews for a moment, his eyes closing as his free hand grips the counter, “Damn…” He breathes. He goes in for another bite, bigger this time. You can feel your heart jumping at his reaction. He must like it.

“It taste okay?” You ask nervously, picking at your fingernails. He looks at you dumbfounded, like you’d asked him the silliest question in the world.

“Darlin’… does it taste okay? Have you tried it yet? Jesus, girl… best damn pie I have ever had.” He says quietly, stuffing more pie into his mouth.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and smile wider, “Don’t lie to me now, Joel.”

Joel shakes his head quickly, finishing off the big slice, his fork clanging against the plate. “Naw, I wouldn’t lie about a good pie. A damn good pie at that. I’d tell ya if it tasted anything less than decent.”

You can’t help the dumb grin on your face as he hypes your sweet treat up. It’d been a while since you got any sort of praise from anyone, and it felt nice. Your cheeks tinge with a dusty rose as you lean over, cutting the rest of the pie into slices. You save yourself one and hand Joel the rest. His eyes widen at the offer, taking the pie pan in his dirty palms.

“It’s yours. I’m really glad you enjoyed it, Joel. I’ve been baking up a storm this past month I’ve been here, and I’ve been the only one eating them. I don’t need a whole pie to myself. So, it’s all yours.” Your gaze is soft on Joel’s face, and it causes his chest to stir with something he’s not so sure of.

He clears his throat, looking back down at the delicacy he’s holding. “You sure ‘bout that? I don’t wanna be no pie thief just ‘cause you know I think it tastes good.”

A genuine laugh escapes your throat, causing his to restrict, “No, I don’t think you’re a pie thief. You’re really doing me a favor by taking it off my hands. I’m glad it’s going to someone who will enjoy it.”

Joel nods, gripping the pie pan in his hands as he looks down at it. He looks anywhere besides where you stand. “Well, ‘preciate it. You’re about as sweet as this pie is, I reckon. Luke’s got a good girl on his hands.”

Your shoulders fall as he mentions Luke and you know they shouldn’t. Even the thought of him right now fills you with intense sadness, but you push it away, nodding at his words. Joel clears his throat again, before finally looking back up to you, “Well, thank you, darlin’. I will enjoy every bit of this pie and bring the pan back when I’m done.” He turns to leave, but looks back for a moment, “And if you decide to ever try and make a pecan pie… you know where my door is.” He smiles, walking out the back door.

You find yourself reeling from the interaction and you try and convince yourself it was only because he loved your pie. It wasn’t the way his eyes closed as he savored his first taste, or the way he practically moaned in delight after every bite he took. And it definitely wasn’t the way he gripped the counter, the pie leaving him speechless, or the way you’d thought maybe that’s what his hands would look like gripped around your waist or thighs as he… your eyes widen at your thought process, and you run up the steps to jump in the shower, hoping to wash away the impure thoughts about a man who isn’t your husband. Even as you make an excuse for every thought that pops into your head about Joel, you can’t ignore the beat that drums between your legs, no matter how hard you try. No matter how hard you scrub at your skin, it’s like those images have been imprinted in your mind. Fuck.

After a long shower, a full skincare session and getting dressed in your comfiest jammies, you head back down to the kitchen to eat your slice of pie, only to be met with Luke eating it instead. His eyes wide as you walk in, mouth full of cherry filling.

“Baby, this… you outdid yourself. This is fucking good.” Luke says, a soft smile on his face. Your stomach churns as he speaks, and usually you’d be happy he was finally giving you attention. But not this time. Instead, you were pissed he ate your only slice of pie.

“Did you eat the rest of it? I need another slice. I’d skip dinner for that.” He says as he nearly runs to the fridge, searching for the remainder of the pie.

“I gave it to Joel. He brought in the eggs and said it was one of his favorites. I didn’t think you’d want it since you know, you said you didn’t.”

Luke sighs, “You gave it to Joel? The whole pie? You know I love cherries, why the hell would you do that?”

Your eyes widen in disbelief, anger filling your body. “Luke, you said yourself you didn’t want any. I didn’t want it to go to waste and that slice you just ate was mine. You didn’t even ask!”

Luke rolls his eyes, slamming the door of the fridge, “I don’t need to ask you what I can and can’t eat. Make another pie.” He says as he walks past you, mumbling something about how he can’t believe you’d give another man something before him. He was unbelievable. You grab the plate he’d left on the counter and toss it into the sink, not caring if it breaks or not. You breathe out from your nose as you rest your palms against the cool marble counters, your jaw clenched tight as your foot taps against the tile. You don’t know how much longer you can take this attitude of his.

Deciding you need a distraction; you head down to Joel’s. His door is shut, but his porch light is on. That doesn’t deter you though. As you walk on to the creaky wooden porch and knock, you can feel your anger dissipate from your body. The distance from Luke was good.

Joel opens the door only a moment later, his eyes confused but his mouth upturned into a smile. “Hey, darlin’, what are you doin’ here?”

“Do you have any more pie?” You ask. Your question takes him off guard, but he nods, stepping aside to let you in.

“I got a few slices left. Gotta be honest with you; I had one or two more when I got back in an hour ago.” He says sheepishly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. You turn to face him, your eyes looking into his. Joel feels his chest fill with that same thing he felt earlier. Something he still couldn’t place.

“Luke ate mine. I… I really wanted a slice, but I gave you the rest. He’s mad at me ‘cause I gave it to you.” You say as your shoulders fall. Joel laughs, his eyes crinkling at the sight of your slight pout. He thought it was cute.

“Mad, huh? Over a pie? Can’t say I blame him though. It is pretty damn good.” Joel heads into another room for a moment, which you assume is the kitchen because he comes back to the living room with a big slice of your cherry pie in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. “Sit.” he says, nodding to his couch.

You sit in the same spot you sat in the last time you were here, resting back against the cushions as Joel places the food on a TV tray and sets it in front of you. The little action has your heart racing. Something as simple as getting served a slice of pie sends your heart into a tizzy and you sigh, digging into the dessert. It was damn good.

Joel sits in his rocking chair, just like last time, but doesn’t say anything. He lets you eat in silence and once you’re done, he takes care of it too.

You don’t want to leave yet, and as you pull your knees up to your chest, you hope he doesn’t ask you to. Joel returns a moment later, a glass of water for you and a glass of that same amber liquid for him. He smiles, handing you the glass, “You look comfy.”

Your cheeks tint a shade of pink, and you take the glass from him, “I am comfy. This couch is nice.”

“Hope so. I’ve had it for probably 15-20 years. It’s well-loved for sure.” Joel says, sitting back in his rocking chair and sighing. Your eyebrows quirk as you rest your cheek against your knees.

“Man, you’ve really been here for a long time then, huh?”

Joel nods, looking at you getting comfy on his couch. There goes that feeling he can’t place. “Yeah, ‘bout 25 years at this point. I was 25 at the time I started here actually. Karla didn’t even own the place yet, it was her daddy’s. Once he passed, she took over and I stayed. She tried to convince me to stay, but she didn’t have to do that. This was my home at that point too.” He pauses, sipping his drink. “She was a good friend. Wasn’t too much older than me.” You listen intently as Joel speaks, not knowing any of this.

You nod, “Wow, I had no clue. Karla seemed like a good woman.”

“She was. Had her issues as we all do. But I enjoyed her company. But… here I am 25 years later. No kids, no wife. Just all these damn cows and chickens and horses. Don’t tell Estrella I said that.” Joel says, mentioning one of the cows in the barn. You laugh, telling him a quick ‘of course not’.

A comfortable silence falls between you two for a while. It’s only then you notice that Joel’s record player is going, playing some soft country song in the background. You breathe out, your eyes growing heavy. Your mind drifts back to Joel’s words. No wife, no kids. He’s been alone the last 25 years?

“So… You said you don’t have a wife or any kids? Any particular reason?” As you ask this, regret fills your body. It’s probably a sensitive subject for Joel. God, you are such an idiot-

“Not really. Just… never found the time.” Oh.

You nod again as he speaks, waiting for him to continue. “I wanted to at one point. It’s kinda hard to date when the only people around you are a lesbian or… furry. Don’t get me wrong… I’d find myself up at Jimmy’s old bar and maybe meet a girl, take her home for the night… but it never went further. You kinda lose track of time after a while. Then 25 years pass and you’re pushin’ 50 and it’s like… damn. Where’d the time go?”

Your heart breaks as you hear his words, but you can also understand. Time does move quickly and if you don’t pay attention, you lose it.

“Hmm… well, don’t give up hope. You never know what could happen.” You say with a soft smile. Joel laughs again and you can’t say that you hate it. It’s nice.

“What?” You laugh along with him, “You don’t know what could happen! You could always try a dating site. They have that farmers only website which might be really good for you.”

This makes Joel laugh louder, “Sweetheart… a dating website? I don’t even have a smartphone, how do you think I’d manage that? And while it’s nice you got this sort of hope for me; I don’t mind being alone. Easier this way.” He trails off, both of your laughs dying down. You stare at Joel for a long time. Every fiber of your being screams to touch him or hug him… kiss him. There’s something about him that makes you just long for him. To take care of him. To show him what it’s like to be loved.

You try and pull yourself from your thoughts and as you go to say something, you hear your name being called from the house. Luke. Your eyes close as your stomach drops, not wanting to face reality. You sigh as you stand up and stretch, smiling anxiously at Joel who stands with you. He looks into your eyes, his sad, deep baby browns piercing at you and it takes your breath away. Not realizing it, you reach for him. You pull him against your body as you hug him. He freezes in your embrace, not sure if he should hug you back. But after a moment of contemplation, he throws caution to the wind and wraps his arms around you, holding you tight against him like he didn’t want you to go away. Like he wanted to keep you here with him. Safe in his arms.

The hug was too brief for your liking. Joel steps back first, holding you at arm's length in front of him. Luke calls your name again and you groan. You look up to Joel once more and smile. “Thank you for the nice conversation today… and the pie. I really did outdo myself, huh?”

Joel smiles back and nods, “Darlin, you put your whole damn foot into it. I can’t wait to eat another slice tomorrow. Or before bed. Who knows.”

You laugh before stepping towards the door, casting Joel a quick look and then heading back up to the house.

You feel so light and giddy from the conversation with Joel, you don’t even mind the scowl on Luke’s face as you reach the porch. “Why were you at Joel’s?” He asks, following you through the back door to the kitchen.

“I had a piece of pie. Since someone ate mine.” You reply, taking your shoes off.

Luke rolls his eyes, “Jesus, cry me a river. So glad you’re so close with that old man that he’d spare a piece of his precious cherry pie for you. I mean, fuck. He’s probably loving the attention he’s getting from you. Half his age and conventionally pretty. I’m sure he’s eating that up.”

This makes you snap.

“And so, what if he is?! God forbid someone feels good from getting some attention. We’re just talking either way, so I don’t know why this is such an issue for you. It’s not like you talk to me anymore anyways.” You seethe as tears begin to well. You sigh in frustration, hating how emotional you get when angered. Luke’s eyes soften and his shoulders fall.

“No, you’re right.” He says, causing your eyes to widen. “I’ve been neglecting you. I’ve been so stressed with work; I’ve lost sight of what’s important to me and that’s you, baby.” He continues. You feel something flutter in your chest, but you can’t tell if it’s hope or disgust.

Luke approaches you slowly, wrapping his arms around your frame as he lowers himself to your height. He peppers your face in kisses and while you don’t stop him, you don’t necessarily enjoy it. “Baby… I’m so sorry. You can forgive me, right? I swear I’ll change my ways. I’m gonna get out earlier, help make dinner and clean up then I can hold my sexy wife on the couch while we watch that trashy TV show you like. Just like we used to in the city. That sound okay?” He smiles, looking into your eyes.

You avoid his gaze for a moment before deciding to look. You can feel your heart begin to soften for him again, even if it’s slight. Which leads you to nod, causing him to break into a huge smile.

“Thank you, my love. I don’t deserve you.” He says, leaning in to kiss your lips. His kisses are rushed and urgent and his lips are chapped but too wet. You try to ignore it as his hands slide down your waist to your ass, squeezing the pajama covered flesh. You hum against his lips as your brows knit but Luke takes this as a sign to go further. You don’t have the heart to tell him no.

He leads you upstairs to your shared bed, taking your comfy pajamas off and placing you against the mattress. The next 20 minutes are filled with over-the-top grunting and touches that are too rough and once he finishes, not caring if you did or not, you roll over and force yourself to sleep. Your mind races with thoughts of Joel. His chocolate eyes, his pouty bottom lip and the way his fucking body felt against yours this evening. It was a hug. A hug! And that one instance had you nearly foaming at the mouth for more. You don’t try to push your thoughts away this time. In fact, you welcome them. And after a while, your body begins to relax enough to finally drift off.

The next few weeks are filled with much of the same. Luke’s promise to change falls through, of course. The only thing that does change is his desire for you. It’s like all he wants to do is touch you and it drives you insane. You thank God you’re on birth control, because if you were to get pregnant with his child right now… you don’t know what you’d do. Probably keel over and wait for death.

Joel is one of the only things getting you through the days. You bake a new treat almost every day, not even bothering to ask Luke if he wants to try them anymore. Instead, you take them straight to Joel. His reactions never fail to amaze you. Cinnamon bread topped with streusel? 10/10, no complaints. Jalapeno cheddar sourdough? Sent from God himself. Pumpkin cinnamon rolls with homemade cream cheese frosting? Crafted by the hands of the divines, infused with holy nectar. And he acted that way. He was visceral in the way his body reacted to the desserts and baked goods and the pride it filled you with was something else entirely. His groans of pleasure, the way he’d lean over just slightly. The way he’d look at you and you’d swear his pupils would dilate. It just… did something to you.

It was your routine. Wake up, make something delicious, go to Joel’s and eat and talk for a while, then head home before Luke gets done with work and pretend to be a happy wife. It was exhausting in that sense. You think you were happy in some way, but not because of your husband.

You don’t even know when the dynamic changed. Maybe it was when Luke’s busy season started. And busy he was. He’d even have to go into the office for a few days at a time and since it was so out of the way, he’d just get a hotel room in the city. You found yourself looking forward to his time away from the farm. Away from you. The days where you got to be you, and where you got to pretend you weren’t tied to this piece of shit husband. Where maybe you were single and enjoying the company of a man who seemed to be genuinely interested in you.

You found yourself doing other things for Joel besides giving him sweet treats here and there. Some days you’d get up when that rooster would crow and brew a pot of coffee, bringing it to him in a thermos as Fall came in full force. Or there were days where you’d pack him a lunch and bring it to the barn or stable and even eat with him while he tended to the horses, cows and chickens. You liked it. No, you loved it. You loved the simplicity of spending time with him. He was grateful for everything you said and did, and he showed that back.

Dryer crapped out on you? Joel can fix it. Pipe burst in the kitchen sink? No worries, Joel has it. The leg on your favorite dining chair is loose? Hell, Joel would probably build you a whole new set for the table.

You two were close. And when you say close, you meant it. You talked about everything under the sun. Your hopes and dreams, your fears, even the totally irrational ones. You remember laughing until you nearly peed your pants when you found out Joel was scared of mushrooms. He defended himself by saying how they grow from decay and that’s what freaked him out the most. Plus, they tasted bad. You couldn’t argue with that. You hated mushrooms too.

He never judged you and you never judged him. It was refreshing. Easy.

It was day two of three that Luke was supposed to be away for work, and you were living the high life. You slept like a rock in your shared bed, getting to actually sleep in the middle of the king-sized mattress and not tucked away into the corner, trying not to touch him. When you thought about it, it was pretty sad because when did you grow to not want your husband anymore? But you’d save those thoughts for another morning. Today was your day.

You got up at 6 am, right on the dot when that Rooster crowed, a smile on your face and spring in your step. It was peaceful getting up so early and you’d grown to love it. As you padded down the steps in the morning darkness, the sun still yet to rise, you couldn’t help but feel the excitement of getting to hand Joel his morning coffee you were about to brew him. The way his eyes would crinkle as his hand would brush against yours as you pass him the thermos. Or his low, country drawl as he’d say “Thank you, darlin’. Much obliged.”

You knew thoughts like this while married weren’t great and you did have some sort of guilt but with the way Luke had been acting over the last few months, you honestly didn’t care that much.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the kitchen as you filled the thermos to the brim. No cream, no sugar. Black. Extra strong. Just how Joel liked it. You closed the container, setting it on the counter before heading back upstairs to change for the cold morning and then you were on your way down the hill to Joel’s house.

His front porch light wasn’t on, which was out of the ordinary, but you knocked anyways. After waiting a few moments and no response, you decided to peek through the window only to be met with nothing. No lights turned on and the house was seemingly empty. Your shoulders slumped as you wondered where he could have been.

You walked around the property, checking the stables, the chicken coop, and there was no sign of him there. Last place to check was the barn which maybe you should have checked first, but oh well. Once you reached the weathered building, you pushed the doors open, noting a light on towards the far wall on the right. “Joel?” You called out.

You heard rustling as he stepped on the hay on the barn floor and shortly after, he appeared from the pen he was sitting in. His face lit up at the sight of you causing your breath to hitch and your stomach to flip. You matched his smile and walked towards him, meeting him halfway into the barn.

“Mornin’ darlin’. This for me?” Joel asks, pointing to the thermos.

“You know it is. Black coffee delivery for Joel.” You say with a playful smile, lifting the thermos up for him to grab. His grin widens, taking it from you. Your usual brush of the hands sends electric currents to every nerve ending in your body.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Much obliged. You always make my mornin’ coffee perfectly. Like my own lil’ star-biz or somethin’.” He says, opening the tin up and taking a big sip. You laugh at the mispronunciation but you don’t have the heart to correct him. That damn blush was clear as day. It seems to tint your cheeks permanently these days.

“God, I miss Star… biz... Overpriced. But you haven’t lived until you’ve had an iced peppermint tea and their pumpkin pepita loaf.” You say with a playful smile.

Joel rolls his eyes as he opens the thermos and sips it, “Pepita? They’re just making up words at this point.”

“Joel, a pepita is a pumpkin seed.” You grin. Joel feels that familiar bloom in his chest and he sighs as his cheeks grow hot. He mumbles something about how he knew that and how he was just trying to be funny, but you know better. Joel shuts the thermos and takes in your face for a moment. The way your eyelashes brush against your cheeks as you close your eyes to giggle and shake your head at him nearly makes him dizzy. He clears his throat, time moving normally again as he grabs your hand and pulls you to the back of the barn. “C’mere, wanna show you somethin’.”

Now, it’s your turn for your face to burn. Your heart races as his hand grips yours tightly and you’re not sure what to expect. But when he pulls you into the pen, and you see Estrella laying there, you settle down.

Joel drops your hand and squats down next to her, rubbing her back softly. The way he’s so incredibly gentle makes you smile. You squat next to him, following his hand and petting her too. “She’s so soft… been here on this farm for a few months now and this is the first time I’m really getting to pet her.”

Joel smiles too, his eyes watching your hand. “Better be soft with that damn $60 shampoo I use on her.” Joel pauses, moving back to the wood bench against the barn wall. “She’s about to give birth. Probably in a couple hours ‘er so.” He says, rubbing his tired eyes.

You look at Joel in surprise, “What? I didn’t even know she was expecting. Did you tell Luke?”

Joel nods, “Mhm. Told him when y’all got to the farm. Not surprising he didn’t say anything though. Not like he takes care of the animals. Or… anything around here.”

It’s true. Luke didn’t take care of anything around here like he told his family he would. And well, neither did you, but in some sort of way, you liked to think you took care of Joel. Luke took care of the bills though, for the most part. He paid… the electric bill, you think? The rest was pretty much paid for thanks to the house having been paid off decades ago. You sigh, deciding to sit next to Joel on the bench.

“Sorry… we’re bad farm owners, aren’t we?” You ask. Joel closes his eyes and smiles, breathing out a breathy laugh and you can’t help but smile too.

“Maybe a little. But that’s okay. ‘Least you’re pretty. Real nice to look at and such.” He slips, his brows shooting up into his hairline as he flushes.

You almost miss it. You almost miss him calling you pretty until it reregisters in your mind, and you swear you can hear your heart pounding in your ears. You don’t say anything for a good moment, not knowing what to say. Silence fills the barn, despite the sound of Estrella breathing heavily through her labor pains. Or maybe those were yours.

It’s like your body ignites, and you desperately want Joel to touch you. You don’t have the energy to fight the guilty thoughts of how you shouldn’t be thinking these things about another man that isn’t your husband. You don’t care anymore. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to act on it. You nod slowly, still not sure what to say, but you know if you don’t put some distance between the two of you; you’re gonna break.

You stand and wipe your sweaty palms on your leggings before turning at Joel and smiling softly. “I’m… I’m gonna head inside for a bit, get some laundry done. Let me know if you need any help with Estrella, okay?” You don’t wait for Joel to respond as you head towards the barn’s entrance. Desperate to get away, you pick your steps up, but Joel has other plans. You only get halfway across the barn before he grabs your hand once more and you don’t pull away.

You utter his name softly, and Joel can’t help the way it makes his heart race and his pants tighten. Your fingers feel smooth against his rough, calloused ones and he squeezes them slightly. His breath’s come in heaves and you find yours to be matching. You’re terrified to turn around, but his other hand touches your hip, urging you to face him. So, you do.

“Joel…” You say again and it’s like music to his ears. His big hand grips at your waist desperately, like he doesn’t want you to leave. Like you’ll disappear. His other hand drops your own and finds solace on the other side of your waist. His gaze is intense, but you don’t dare look away now.

“’M sorry.” He says, causing your brows to knit.

“Why?”

“For callin’ you pretty.” He speaks. You can tell he’s nervous. You can tell by the slight twitch in his hands as his fingers fight the urge to dig into your skin. Or the way his voice trembles. It makes you want him to take you right here and now.

“Why would you be sorry about that?” You ask, finding yourself slipping closer and closer into him.

“Shouldn’t be callin’ a married woman pretty. Shouldn’t be touchin’ her like this neither.” Joels hands squeeze again slightly, and you practically moan. Your lips part as that familiar ache continues to build between your legs and you don’t know how much more you can take.

“Well,” You begin, debating your next words carefully, “Maybe a married woman shouldn’t be letting a man that’s not her husband call her pretty or touch her like this… but here we are.”

Joel’s lips quirk up softly, pulling you closer to him. His firm chest presses against your breasts and the close vicinity begins to drive you crazy. You take a slow and steady breath, trying to calm your nerves but then one of Joel’s hands leaves your waist and runs up your neck to your cheek. Your eyes don’t drift from one another’s, but it doesn’t make you feel small. Not like how you’d feel under Luke’s gaze. You feel empowered. Like Joel actually wants you. Because he does.

Joel’s chest rises and falls as his hands caress your jaw, his thumb padding over the delicate skin of your cheek. You instinctively lean into it, pressing against his palm as your eyes close. Joel fights every urge to lean in and kiss you, but he won’t yet. You haven’t given him the okay.

Your hand comes up, gripping around his wrist as you hold his hand to you. You don’t want him to move it. He wasn’t going to anyway. Your eyes flutter open and see the desire written all over Joel’s face. A small puff of air escapes your mouth, and you pout.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, huh?” You ask, your voice tiny and worried.

Joel sighs too, blinking a couple of times. “No, probably not. Shouldn’t be touchin’ you like this, but, Jesus… don’t know if I can stop.” He pauses for a moment and when you don’t say anything and you don’t move, he speaks again. “Please… tell me to stop.”

Your heart lurches in your chest and you suddenly lose the ability to speak so you just shake your head instead. Your other hand rises to meet Joel’s neck, and you pull him in closer to you. You feel his breath on your lips and it smells like coffee. You catch yourself relaxing as your eyes trail down to Joel’s mouth. You’ve never wanted to kiss someone as bad as you do him.

“Please… baby girl… tell me to stop.” He asks again and you shake your head once more, this time words find you. Well, word.

“No.” Is all you say and Joel practically groans. His hand on your hip pulls your body flush against him, fully pressed against his frame. Your eyes widen as you feel his length press against your leg and your breath catches in your throat.

“Gonna tell me to stop, now?”

You gulp.

“… No.”

Joel nods as he realizes this is happening. He leans in closer, “Okay. Can I… kiss you?”

Your eyes widen only slightly as you think it over. You want him to kiss you more than anything but once you do, it’s over. The line will have been crossed. You’ll be a cheater. But the way he’s looking at you, and the way he’s asked so nicely… you couldn’t say no.

“Yes.” You breathe.

“Okay.” He mumbles, wasting no time to press his lips against yours.

Joel is an intense man, and his kisses are no different. His movements are desperate and hungry, like he’s a man starved. He probably is. It’s been so long since he’s felt the touch of a woman. But you don’t mind it. In fact, you welcome it. He kisses you with such need it takes away and oxygen in your lungs. Like he’s been thinking about doing this forever. Maybe he has, you don’t know.

Your arms wrap around his neck as his hand at your waist holds you still, the one on your jaw trails down to your hip. He guides you backwards, your back meeting the wall of the tattered barn. You’re trapped between the two, but you have no time to think about that. You think about how perfect his lips feel against your own and how smoothly they move with yours. How natural. You don’t realize the tiny whimpers that escape your lips until Joel pulls back, grunting softly.

“Baby girl… fuckin’ hell. Those sweet noises you’re makin’ are gonna drive me crazy.” He huffs against your lips, making sure he’s not away from them for too long.

Your tongues tangle and your mind goes blank. You taste the bitter black coffee on him and it becomes addicting. You don’t even like coffee. Your head spins and reels and you find yourself slipping which you don’t mind. Joel could fuck you on this dirty barn floor and you’d thank him as you picked the hay out of your hair later. But he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t like you slipping away from him. He parts your legs with his knee, his thigh resting between them so he can prop you up. So you can’t go anywhere.

His fingers glide under your sweater, seeking the warmth of your skin. He trails his cold digits up your tummy until they reach your bra. But he doesn’t go any higher than that. The chill of his hands leaves a wake of goose bumps, causing your nipples to harden and you’re practically moaning at this point. He’s barely even touched you.

“Please… Joel, please.” You beg. “Please, fucking touch me.”

Joel keels over slightly, pressing you against the wall even harder. “Fuck… want me to touch you, baby? Where? Tell me.”

“Anywhere.” You rasp, feeling more desperate than he is at this point.

Joel laughs softly, “Uh-uh… gotta be more specific.” His fingers trail further down, tracing random shapes around your navel.

You groan, feeling helpless. You want him everywhere. You want his fingers in your mouth, or his mouth on your breasts, or his cock stuffed inside you. Fucking anything.

Joel smirks again, raising his knee up higher until he hits your core. The small bump of his thigh against your clothed pussy pulls another whimper from you and it sparks something inside Joel. “Like that, darlin’? Like when your cunt rubs up against my thigh like that?”

Words fail you again and you nod, your hips instinctively bucking against it.

“That’s it… usin’ me like that. Makin’ yourself feel good for me. Let me see you move, pretty girl.”

Joel steadies you as you begin to rock your hips against his thigh. You ignore the way your panties stick to you and the way your leggings are just soaked at this point. You’re sure if you were to look down at Joel’s jeans, you’d see evidence of it all there too.

He moves his hands again, trailing one back up to your bra and slipping underneath it. He grabs at your breasts, his grip needy and clumsy. It brings you back to reality for a moment as you giggle. “Joel… calm down. I’m not going anywhere.”

Joel’s face reddens and he slows his movements, his thumb padding over your hard nipple. “Sorry, baby girl… It’s just…” He sighs, leaning down and kissing your lips again. It’s soft and sweet and all too quick. “It’s just I don’t know if I’ll ever get this opportunity again. Don’t know if I’ll ever get to touch you like this. Like I been wantin’.”

Your heart swells as you look up to Joel, a goofy smile plastered on to your face. “Like you’ve been wanting? And how long has that been?” You ask, pulling him back down to you to smooch his lips. He sighs, closing his eyes and savoring your affection.

“Since the night you showed up to mine in that silk nightgown of yours.” Joel mumbles against your mouth, pecking you slowly and languidly. It’s almost disorienting as he does it over and over again. Finally, after a moment he stops. “You looked so fuckin’ beautiful that night. Sweaty, nervous, lil’ irritated. I wanted to kiss your lips as soon as you sat on that couch of mine. But I needed to kiss you the moment I saw them big alligator tears wellin’ up in your eyes when I sang you that George Jones song. Never seen someone so pretty cryin’ like that.” He utters, nuzzling his nose against yours.

You can’t speak. You feel like all the air has whooshed out of your lungs as you look into Joel’s eyes. They’re dilated. His eyes are usually dark but they’re almost black at this point. Your arms stay firmly planted around Joel’s neck, fingers lacing through the soft curls at the bottom. He’s nervous again. You don’t want him to be.

“Joel… you telling me you want to do this again then?” You ask, pressing a tiny kiss to the tip of his nose. He closes his eyes and sighs.

“Baby… I want to do this and so much more with you. I want whatever you want to give to me.” Another peck to your lips. “As long as it’s with you, I want it.”

“Well, what do you want right now?”

“I want to make you come.”

Your eyes widen slightly at his words, mouth going dry. His hand on your hip urges you to start moving again. To start fucking yourself against his thigh. You listen.

Your hands trail from his neck to the front of his jacket, gathering the fabric in your fists as you hold him close. Your hips start to buck once Joel pushes his knee up to the perfect height, his thigh settled in between your folds. You begin to rock back and forth, the lack of distance between you two causing the most delicious friction. Your clit presses against the fabric, and you moan softly, whimpering his name and you swear it’s like he’s heard the voice of God himself.

“Fuckin’ music to my ears. Best song I’ve ever fuckin’ heard. Don’t stop. Keep goin’, my sweet girl.” Joel says, leaning down to tangle his tongue with yours again. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking faster as you chase that high that’s embarrassingly close. But the way he’s talking to you, the way he’s touching you so intimately, and the way your clit is pressed perfectly up against his thigh, you never stood much of a chance to begin with.

“Joel…” You whisper, your voice shaking.

“I know, baby, I know. I got you. Fuck…” He hushes back. This is clearly affecting him too. You look down at where your bodies connect and sure enough, the leg of his jeans is soaked, but to the right, just where his groin sits, another wet patch is forming. It’s small, but it’s there. Your breath catches as your head falls back slightly, allowing Joel’s lips to attach themselves to your neck. He tongues the skin up and down your pulse point, not daring to leave a mark. Yet.

“Taste so good. Bet the rest of you tastes even better. Fuck, I’m gonna be addicted. Already am.” Joel’s words push you closer and closer, your hips rocking back and forth quicker. Pretty little whimpers fall from your tongue as your fists ball tighter against his jacket. Joel moans too, his grunts getting louder, more animalistic.

“Joel, ‘m gonna… gonna come.” You manage to get out. Joel’s hand on your hip reaches around to the small of your back, coaxing you to ride faster, harder. His other hand drops from your bra, pulling your head to his so he can kiss you through it.

“Go ahead, baby. Come for me. Fuck-” Joel mumbles against your lips, swallowing the little noises you make. He’s acting like he’s not too far behind as well. You’re not even touching him and he’s on the verge of coming. Just by making you come.

With your hips moving just a few more times, the coil in the pit of your stomach begins to snap, your eyes shutting tightly as you see white, hot lightning behind them.

“God. Oh, fuck. Joel…” You murmur, your head falling forward to bury your face in his chest. But he doesn’t allow that. Joel grabs your hair from the back and tugs it softly, wanting to see your face as you come.

“That’s it. My pretty girl, holy fuck. Ah, shit…” He grunts, his breath stuttering as his own head leans into your neck. His grip on your hair and waist becomes a vice, holding you to him as you think he finishes in his pants.

You breathe heavily, coming down from your high as you pull back, Joel’s grip on you lessening. His face is beat red, and he can’t meet your gaze.

“Joel, did you- did you…?” You ask cautiously, eyes shining with amazement.

Joel grunts again, one of his hands coming up to wipe his brow. “Shit, yeah. I did.” His gaze finally meets yours and you break into a grin, letting out a breathy laugh. He smiles with you, “Got me feelin’ like a damn teenage boy over here. Can’t believe I did that.”

You shake your head, still smiling. “Don’t go feeling embarrassed on me, Joel. That was… the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” Your words are quiet, but you mean them. Eyes trailing down to where the small wet spot on his crotch used to be, now a bigger patch. You can’t help but run your fingers over it. Joel groans softly, leaning slightly into you from how sensitive he still is.

“Baby girl… watch it.” He stumbles, his breath picking back up.

You smile, “Waste it was in your pants… should have been inside my mouth. Or my pussy.” You don’t know where your confidence comes from. Maybe it’s because you made a grown man come in his pants just by watching you come on his thigh. But, nonetheless, you’re feeling good.

Your fingers continue to tease the wet spot on his groin, and you find yourself wanting to taste him. No, needing to taste him. Joel catches on to your thought process and even though he feels like he might pass out with how badly he needs you; he pushes through.

“Wanna taste, darlin’?” He hushes; lips pressed to your jaw. You nod.

“Please, Joel?” You ask in a small voice, the desire in it setting him alight.

It causes Joel to almost whimper, and he pulls back. His thigh drops from between your legs and the wet spot that’s accumulated on your leggings goes cold. You shiver slightly, missing his heat against you. Joel watches you for a moment before sighing. He wants to continue. He wants to fuck you in this barn and make you his, filling your sweet pussy up with his seed. Maybe knock you up so you can never leave him. Joel knows that’s not an option, but fuck, does he wish. He knows needs to cool it down a bit.

“You should head inside, take a shower er somethin’.” He speaks. Your brows knit together, shoulders falling slightly. You don’t want to leave his side. You don’t want this moment to end.

“I’ll be in in a bit. Don’t wanna be away from you for too long.” Your heart races at his words as he steps closer, placing his hands on either side of your cheeks. He leans down, kissing you deeply. It takes your breath away. It’s nothing like you’ve ever felt before, and it scares you. You can absolutely see yourself becoming addicted to this. You probably already are.

“Go to mine. Shower there. I’m gonna check on Estrella and then I’ll be in, okay? Won’t be away too long.” He says, backing up. You nod, muttering a quiet okay.

As you walk out of the barn, casting one last glance in his direction, he smiles. Your throat restricts and you march on forth to his little house on the property. All thoughts of Luke and your marriage are gone. As far as you were concerned, you were Joel’s. If he wanted you, that is. But you had an inkling there was a very good chance that was the case.

You reached Joel’s home and let yourself inside. It was funny to you he said to shower here when your house was only up the hill. But you weren’t going to deny him that. Plus, this was a good chance to look around the place. You’d only seen the living room which is crazy cause you were here often. You walked through the entrance, taking in the familiar plaid covered couch and the record player towards on the opposite side of it. Many mornings were spent here with Joel just chatting and laughing, listening to his collection of different records. Most of them were older county artists but you knew Joel was partial to 90’s alternative like Pearl Jam and Foo Fighters. Which surprised you, but it also made complete sense.

Stepping forward, the door off to the left of the entrance was slightly open. Curiosity piqued so you glanced in. His bedroom. Your eyes widened slightly, opening the door a bit more as you gazed around the neat room. His bed was the only thing unkempt. No clothes littered the ground, his self-care items which consisted of a jar of lotion, deodorant and probably a 15-year-old bottle of cologne were aligned neatly on the dresser. You smiled to yourself, shutting the door as you continued your trek to the bathroom. The hallway only had two doors and one opening which led to the kitchen. You assumed the one at the end of the hallway was a closet and upon opening it, you were right. So, the room next to it was the bathroom. You grabbed a towel and on you went.

Pale teal tile floor with weathered white walls. The tub was a weird shade of green which seemed to be a common theme among the property. Must have been Karla’s favorite color. It was small and cozy, like the rest of the house, and it filled you with comfort you hadn’t felt in months. You were in Joel’s space and it all just felt so him. You really could get used to it all.

Pulling back the translucent white shower curtain, you noted Joel had actual shampoo and conditioner and not a 3-In-1 like Luke used. Fuck, he even had body wash. You smile again and turn the hot water on before pulling the drain to let the shower run. It felt so good to strip out of your wet leggings and the rest of your clothes and it felt even better stepping into the steaming shower. Near scalding water cascaded down your back and you hummed in delight, letting it soak your skin. This was nice.

As you reached for the shampoo, deciding it was best to get the barn smell off you, you hadn’t noticed someone stepping into the bathroom with you. As you hummed to yourself, lathering the tea tree scented shampoo, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Your eyes widened as you jumped with a yelp, turning slightly. Of course it was Joel.

“Joel! Jesus, you scared me.” You breathed.

Joel smiles, “Sorry darlin’. You were too busy hummin’ and using up all my shampoo to notice. This uh, this okay?” He says, nodding between the two of you. You nod back.

“Yeah, yeah… ‘course it is.” Realization sets in that you’re naked in the shower with Joel right now. Yeah, he’d made you come on his thigh in the barn, but this was a whole new level. Joel notices your nerves and he kisses your shoulder.

“Don’t gotta do nothin’, sweetheart. Just wanna be by you.” He speaks.

Your heart melts and you nod, relaxing into his touch. You turn in his arms and breathe out a laugh, “Want me to wash your hair?”

Joel’s eyes widen slightly, and he pauses before nodding. “Okay, go ahead.”

His arms fall from around your waist, but he doesn’t stop touching you. His hands linger around your hips and tummy, fingertips grazing the soft skin like he’s addicted. He is.

You reach for the shampoo, squirting a little in your hands and lathering them until they’re sudsy. Joel dips his head under the water, wetting his hair and you reach up, rubbing it through. It’s intimate in the way his eyes close, his hand planting against you, holding himself still. You can’t help but look down and see he’s hard, but he doesn’t make it a big deal. You wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t looked.

“Okay, let’s rinse you.” You hum softly.

He leans forward, the water flowing on to him as the shampoo falls into the drain. You wash it until the water runs clear and then wipe his face so when he opens his eyes, he doesn’t get anything in them. Your heart pounds at how personal this is; how close he is.

You take in every detail on his face, like his little sun freckles and his deep-set lines in the corners of his eyes. He has long eyelashes that droplets kiss and you feel like you’re in a daze. He has a scar on his nose and the most kissable bottom lip and the most wonderful facial hair-

“Darlin’?” Joel says, eyes locked on to yours, “You okay?”

Your eyes widen and you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips before blowing a raspberry, “Oops, you caught me. You’re so pretty I got caught up.”

Joel laughs and trails his hand up your waist, right under the swell of your breast, “Pretty? First time I’ve heard that one, I think. Not nearly pretty as you are, though.” He grins.

Your eyes roll, “So cheesy.”

“Yeah, I know you like it. Can’t deny it by the cute lil’ blush of yours. You always look so damn happy to see me.” Joel says, his other hand cupping your jaw as he looks into your eyes.

You swallow harshly, unable to look away. “That’s because I am always happy to see you. I like you.”

“I like you too,” He breathes, causing your heartbeat to stop in your chest and start somewhere else, “A whole lot.”

Silence fills the bathroom despite the sound of the water that’s now going cold. Joel’s thumb caresses your bottom lip for a moment, and you think he’s going to kiss you.

“Let’s finish up. Water’s growin’ cold on us. I wanna get you all warm and snuggled up.”

“In your bed?” You ask, eyes wide.

“Yes. In my bed.”

“Okay.”

You heart reignites as the beat in your pussy quickens. Joel’s hands roam your body, lathering both of you in the sea salt scented body wash before rinsing you off and stepping out of the shower. He wraps you in the plush gray towel after drying your hair a bit. You don’t have to do anything. It’s… surreal. You’ve never had this kind of care and attention.

You follow behind Joel shyly, almost intimidated by the intimacy of it all. Both of you are towel wrapped and damp as you step into Joel’s room. He switches the bed side lamp on and you hug the towel closer to you as you watch Joel move to rummage through his drawers. He grabs you a big shirt and a pair of his boxers, slipping on some himself. All this is done in silence, and it scares you how comfortable it is. How natural.

You walk over to the bed, getting dressed in Joel’s clothes as you sit on the edge, waiting for him to do anything. To say anything. He doesn’t for a while.

Finally, Joel turns to face you, a small smile on his face. “What ya so quiet for?”

You shrug, biting back the grin that fights through. “I dunno… I’m a little nervous I guess.”

Joel’s eyebrow quirks, nodding slowly. He makes his way next to you and sits on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips and you look over to his face. He’s just so fucking handsome.

“Well… what do you think you’re nervous about? Luke finding out?” He asks, his voice gentle.

You shrug again, “Maybe. But that wasn’t my first thought.”

Joel’s eyebrows knit together, “Then what was?”

A long sigh escapes your mouth, and you look away for a moment before looking back, “Why does this all feel so natural with you?”

“What do you mean?”

You sigh again, “I mean… we just showered together, and you were hard the entire time, but you didn’t even kiss me. You dried my hair and my arms and legs when we got out and then wrapped me in a towel. You gave me your clothes to wear to get comfy in bed with you and neither one of us batted an eye at how smoothly it flowed. It’s… weird”

“It’s weird?” He asks, reiterating your words.

“Well, not weird. But also, it kinda is. I’ve… I guess I’ve just never had that, so I don’t know how to react.” You say nervously. You decide to keep your eyes away from Joel as everything begins to feel too much.

He nods, humming softly, “So, you’ve never took a shower with Luke before?”

“I have, of course. But it’s always involved sex. It’s never washing each other's bodies and not even kissing. You touched my ass only to wipe the soap off it.” You say humorously.

Joel laughs, “What, did you want me to leave it there?”

Your eyes roll and you shake your head. “That’s not the point. Why is it so easy with you?”

Joel’s eyes soften and he shakes his head himself. He looks at you in your body, clad with his white fruit-of-the-loom t-shirt and faded red boxers and he shrugs. “Don’t know, darlin’. I really don’t.” He leans in as he sees your shoulders fall and he brushes some of your damp hair behind your ear. “Not everything needs to make sense. Or needs to be made sense of. Sometimes it’s just how it is.”

He leans in and presses a chaste kiss under your ear and two more along your jaw. Your eyes close as you breathe out, savoring his touch. His lips trail down to your chin and along your neck before pecking their way back up. Before his lips can meet yours, you speak. “Are we bad people?”

“No.” he says, no hesitation in his voice as he kisses the corner of your mouth.

“But Joel-”

“But nothin’,” Joel says pulling back slightly, “You are not a bad person for not being in love with your husband. He’s… He doesn’t treat you well, baby girl. There’s been so many nights I’ve heard him hollerin’ about things to you from all the way down the hill. He’s distant, he doesn’t give you the attention you deserve, and he’s a fuckin’ child in a man's body. You hear me?” He huffs, sitting back up and running a hand through his hair. He looks back down to you, your gaze still anywhere but him.

It’s silent for a while, this time less comfortable. Joel breathes in, his chest tightening with nerves. “Leave him.” He speaks. Your eyes widen and you stare at him for a long time, mouth open in shock. Leave him? What?

“Joel, you don’t know what you’re asking.” You say, he scoffs.

“Yes, I do. Leave Luke.” He rebuts.

“And what? Be with you?”

“Yes. Would that be so bad?”

Your eyes widen again, and tears brim your lash line, “No. It wouldn’t be.”

Joel’s lips form a thin line, “Then leave him.”

You sigh, your eyes closing. You can’t leave Luke. Where would you go? You have nothing without him. You don’t have a job, you don’t have a car, you’re in the middle of nowhere. Luke wouldn’t sign the divorce papers too, you’re sure of it. He’d throw a fit and then convince you to stay and you’d give in, living out the rest of your days unhappy with a man you can’t stand.

You stand up, a single tear rolling down your cheek. Joel panics and grabs your hand, holding you from going anywhere. His chest tightens and his eyes widen. You can’t go. Not yet anyways. He just got you.

“Baby, please… Please. Stay with me. Just for now.” The desperation in his voice is palpable and you falter immediately.

“I wasn’t going to leave, I just… I needed to do something. I’m anxious.” You say, your body twisting to face him.

Joel stares at you, his grip on your hand unrelenting. The way your eyebrows are tense in the middle has him anxious too. He pulls you to him with this gentleness that makes your body cave. You find yourself on his lap, hands on his chest as he holds you to him. Your eyes linger on your hands and then the expanse of his torso. He doesn’t have a shirt on, and you hate how distracting it is. How wonderful the hair that litters his skin feels against your palms. The swell of his pecks and how soft yet firm they are. His heartbeat in his chest that’s going two hundred miles per hour and how you find yours to be matching.

Joel brings one of his hands up to your head, moving the hair from your face.

“Look at me,” He breathes. His tone is light and almost like a whisper, “Please, my pretty girl.”

“Your pretty girl?” You ask, gaze meeting his. The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly as he grins.

“Yes. I don’t care what you say, darlin’. I don’t care if you leave Luke or stay with him. You’re mine and I… I reckon you’ve been mine for a long time now.”

Your eyes close and you nod, leaning your head on Joel’s shoulder. He’s right. It’s been a few months of you and Joel getting to know each other better but every day you find yourself slipping more. It was only a matter of time before this happened. Before both of you fell completely.

It was crazy to you. Yeah, you felt guilty for it in the beginning. Guilty for the way you’d go to bed and dream of how you’d get to see Joel the next morning. Guilty for the way you’d wake up early and make coffee for another man while your husband slept peacefully, oblivious to your feelings. Only kind of guilty for the times Joel would be busy, and you couldn’t bother him. So, you’d slip into your bedroom and touch yourself to the memories of his voice and laugh and the way he looked at you; the way he’d hug you before heading out to do his duties. But never guilty for how intoxicating you found him to be. How addicted you found yourself to be.

“Yeah… I think so too. Guess you’ve been mine for a while too?” You ask, your nose prodding his collarbone softly. He smiles, his hand on your waist trailing to your ass and squeezing it slightly, pulling you closer.

“Been yours longer than you been mine, that’s for sure. I wanted you that first night you guys got here. Looked so fuckin’ pretty.” He mumbles, turning his head into your hair. He could live here like this forever and be happy. He’d never asked for anything, never want for nothing. Just being with you here on this farm. He was convinced that’s what heaven looked like.

“Joel…” You whimper at his words, one of your hands trails up to his neck as your lips find it too. You press them against his skin, eliciting a hiss from him. His hand grips your ass harder, spreading your cheeks slightly.

“Yeah, baby girl? Feelin’ needy?” He asks, burying his face into the side of your head. You open your mouth, tongue snaking out to taste him. You want to mark him, have him wear your sigil around the farm. Not like anyone would see. Luke probably wouldn’t even notice.

Your lips plant themselves around his skin, sucking slightly and nipping at it. Joel’s breath catches in his throat, and he stutters, “Jesus fuck- darlin'. What do you think you’re doin’?” he asks, eyes shut as he leans his head back, granting you better access.

You hum, continuing your assault against his neck. Below you, Joel’s cock grows, poking against your thigh. You place open-mouthed kisses, and little love bites up to his jaw before pulling back to look at your work. You grin, eyeing all the small red marks beginning to darken. Joel shakes his head smiling, dilated eyes locked on yours. “Better hope your no-good husband don’t see these.”

You smile back, “He won’t. He’s too fucking oblivious. He doesn’t even know his wife is in their bed touchin’ herself to another man every night.”

This knocks the wind out of Joel’s lungs completely, his eyes widen, and you think he might actually black out for a second. You steady him with a small grin, shaking his head a little. “You okay?”

It takes Joel another couple seconds to respond, blinking back his glazed over eyes, “Oblivious to what, darlin’? To his wife doin’… what?”

You laugh, leaning down to peck the tip of Joel’s nose, “You heard me, Miller.”

“I don’t think I did, pretty girl. Think you should say it again so I can make sure I heard correctly.” He says, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you flush against his erection. Your walls part, feeling the hardened length against your core through his boxers.

You can’t think straight as the sensation of Joel gently rocking his hips upward sends you feral. Your grip on him tightens, “I-I said… Luke is too fucking oblivious to the fact that I’m touching myself to the thought of you every night. I make myself come every night to the thought of you and what it would be like for you to fuck me. How it would be to have your cock stuffed inside me. That clear enough for you?”

Joel huffs, his cock twitching against your heat, “Clear as crystal, baby girl.” His lips connect to yours and it takes your breath away. You’ve said it before, but Joel is just so intense. His kiss is powerful and full of force and it’s utterly intoxicating. You don’t want it to end, but Joel pulls back.

“Wanna know somethin’?” He asks. You nod. “You know how many times I’ve touched myself in the last few months to you?”

Your eyes widen as you bite back a smirk, deciding to relax more into his touch. You place your weight on his lap, his cock bumping your folds in a way that makes him groan. “Yeah? You been touching yourself to me too, Joel?”

“Yeah. Touched myself that first night you came here. When I say you looked so fuckin’ pretty cryin’ like that… I meant it. You went back up the hill and I sat right there in my chair. Couldn’t get out of my jeans fuckin’ fast enough. You got no idea the effect you have on me, do you?” Joel says, nuzzling his nose against yours pecking your lips in sequence a couple times.

You feel drunk. That’s the best way you could put it. You felt drunk on Joel’s needy hands and sinful words, and you’d be damned if you didn’t keep on drinking.

You gulp, “Why don’t… why don’t you show me just how much I affect you then.”

Joel looks into your eyes, looking for any reservations but he sees none. He feels a lump in his throat form, and he really doesn’t want this to end. A part of him wishes Luke would just not come back. That’d he stay far away and leave this farm and you to him. He takes care of both better than anyone else could, especially that poor excuse of a man. Joel wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he wouldn’t mind if Luke just up and died. That way he could never interfere again. As far as Joel was concerned the farm was his, and so were you. It made sense to him. Just as the sun comes up in the morning and sets at night. You were Joel’s and he was yours.

“Show you? Want me to show you how much I want you? How much I fuckin’ need you, sweet girl?” He asks, voice dripping with lust. You nod, words failing you. Seemed to be a common theme around him.

Joel smiles, “Okay, my baby. My pretty girl. You’re mine, aren’t you, darlin’?”

You shudder out a breath, his possessive words going straight to your core, “Joel, yes. I’m yours.”

Joels grip tightens and has you grind down against his cock that’s so painfully hard, “Only mine? No one else?”

You moan, a real moan and it has Joel reeling. “Only fucking yours. Please, Joel… I need you.”

“That’s all you had to say.” He says as he stands up, pushing you off his lap. You shiver from the lack of heat, but he turns to you and nods to the bed, “up against the headboard.”

You listen immediately, nearly stumbling to get on to the bed. Joel follows you, settling in next to you. He covers your bodies with the comforter, and your eyebrows knit together. You watch him fluff up his pillow and then lay against it, sighing as he closes his eyes. What?

“Uh, Joel? What… Are you doing?” You ask.

“Hm? Takin’ a nap. I’ve been up since four in the morning, darlin’. Ol’ Joel’s tired.” He says, eyes closing again.

You laugh, “What? But what about-”

“In a couple hours, we’ll get up. I'll check on Estrella, come back here, and I’ll make you dinner. Then after it’s all said and done, I’ll fuck you. Real good too.”

Your breath catches and you nod, “Okay.”

Joel extends his arm to you, and you lean into him. You place your head on his chest, his arm wrapping around you and holding you to him tightly. He didn’t want you to go anywhere. You weren’t going to.

It was crazy to you how quickly you fell asleep. As soon as Joel started to rub the skin on your forearm and his breathing began to even out, you were knocked. It was a quick nap, probably only an hour instead of the couple he promised. But you didn’t mind. Just meant you were closer to him fucking you.

Joel wakes up first, breathing out heavily as he moves from under you, trying so very carefully not to wake you up. But as soon as you felt the lack of body heat, you were wide awake.

“Where are you going?” You mumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Joel smiles, slipping on his jeans and a shirt.

“Goin’ to check on Estrella. She should be havin’ that calf any moment at this point.” He leans down and kisses your temple and then your cheek and then your lips. You exhale, loving the affection. You kiss him back, humming against him.

“Let me go with you.” Your words are quiet as you feel yourself fighting sleep, your body slumping into Joel’s bed. You couldn’t help it. You were surrounded by his scent and the lingering warmth from his side of the bed. It was all so nice. So Joel.

He chuckles, “Nah, baby girl. Get some more rest. I’ll be back in a bit, okay? My pretty girl needs her beauty sleep.”

You feel your lips quirk up softly, yawning a quick ‘okay’ before nodding back off.

It’s another few hours before your body decides it’s time to get up. As you sit up in Joel’s bed, noticing the sun going down, you hear pots and pans clanging around in the kitchen. You decide to try and gather your bearings and go check it out. The walk down his hallway is short, but you can hear him mumbling something to himself and it has you smiling. Joel is placing a pan onto the stove when he sees you from the corner of his eye. He smiles, “Mornin’, darlin. Bout time you woke up.”

You yawn, stretching slightly, “I know. I’ve been sleeping all day. I have no clue why I’m so exhausted.” You make your way over to Joel who’s lighting the burner on the stove. You wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into him, still feeling the lingering effects of your long nap. Joel chuckles, kissing the top of your head.

“Still sleepy, baby? I guess that’s what good orgasms do to ya, huh?” He teases you. You can feel your face flush as your mind travels back to your time with Joel in the barn and you smirk.

“Guess so. Wouldn’t know. Never had one until then.” You say as Joel moves from you to the fridge, inspecting it for ingredients.

“That so? Well… Looks like I’m gonna have to keep ‘em coming.” He smirks. His eyes scan the content of the fridge and there really isn’t much. He clears his throat. “So, I know I promised you dinner. But I haven’t been able to head up to the market for a bit. I could probably throw together some omelets. Cheese and… bacon? Everythin’ else is in the freezer. It’d take too long to dethaw at this point.” Joel speaks, picking up a paper sack of what he thinks is the bacon.

You watch him raid his fridge and then you clear your throat as the lightbulb in your head goes off. “That doesn’t sound too bad. But think I have a better idea.”

Joel looks over to you, shutting the fridge before crossing his arms, “Oh yeah? What do ya got in mind?”

“I went up to Leo’s market the other day. They were having a special. Buy two get one free. So, I got a pack of almonds cause they’re my favorite. I got a pack of macadamia nuts for cookies and a pack of pecans for your pie. The one you requested forever ago.”

Joel’s eyes widen and his face breaks out into a grin, “Dessert for dinner, huh?”

You shrug, “I think it’s a good time to make it. You can help me. Ever made a pie before?”

He shakes his head, “Can’t say I have, sugar. But I think I have the perfect person to teach me.”

You roll your eyes playfully, before heading towards the front door and slipping your boots on. Joel follows you.

“I’ll be right back. Just gonna go up to the house and grab the stuff.”

He nods, offering help but you tell him you’ll be fine. You head up the hill and in through the back door of the main house before scouring the kitchen for all the ingredients. It’s smells like Luke in here and it makes you queasy. You pause to take a breath. You’d really forgotten about your husband just like that. Like he was so easy to forget despite being married to him for a couple years now. You rest your palms against the counter and clear your throat as your mind just as easily drifts back to thoughts of Joel. How he’s waiting for you just down the hill. How he looks at you and how you feel around him. How he makes you feel. Happy. Safe. Satisfied. Loved. And once again, Luke is gone from your mind.

You step back from the counter and move around the kitchen, grabbing a plastic bag and packing it with flour, sugar, corn syrup, cream, butter, and vanilla.

Soon enough, you’re back in the kitchen with Joel, laying out all the ingredients and getting to work. You start on the crust, combining the flour and butter into a crumbly dough and then let it rest for a bit in the fridge while you start on the filling. Joel helps you measure out the sugar, cream, and corn syrup while you crack the eggs into the bowl. You work together seamlessly, and he follows your instructions to a T. You bite your lip in concentration as you mix the pecans into the filling, folding them in delicately.

Joel watches in admiration, his eyes grazing over your face and then your body which is covered with his clothing. His. It makes his chest swell with affection and he can’t help himself from leaning over and kissing you.

The kiss takes you by surprise, but you return it immediately. You hum against his lips and place your hand on his cheek. His lips move with yours for a moment and he pulls away first, leaving you in a daze. “So fuckin’ pretty.” He hushes; his eyes still closed. You lean in and press another kiss to his bottom lip and he smiles.

“Okay, let’s finish this damn pie.” You speak. Your body feels light and fluttery almost. It’s like you don’t know how to handle all of this. All of this affection. It’s like it’s too much. But also not enough.

Joel nods, getting up to get the pie dough from the fridge. He watches you roll the crust out, cutting it to fit the pie tin, and then pour the filling into it. He watches you make a little heart made out of pecans on the top before popping it into the oven and it’s all so wonderful to him.

Joel’s never really minded being alone. He stayed busy. He had so much to do on the farm every day he really didn’t have time to think that maybe life would be better spending it with someone else. He had the animals, and at one point he had Karla. Sure, he still had those nights from time to time where he craved the heat from another body in his bed. Or maybe when his fist just wasn’t enough and he needed that slick, wet heat his hand couldn’t offer him.

But now, as he watches you move around his kitchen, baking him his favorite pie, doing the dishes, he can’t imagine it any other way. He knows he’s in too deep. You’re a married woman and he knows that, it’s just he’s fought his feelings for a long time and now? He doesn’t give a damn. He wants you. He’s convinced he needs you. If you were to leave him to go back to that piece of shit husband, he doesn’t know what it’d do to him.

Joel stands from the small dining table in the kitchen and makes his way to you. You’re stood at his sink, scrubbing at the dishes you used for the pie. He comes up from behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. Your heart races at the action and you breathe out a small, “Hi.”

“Hi.” He says back simply, his eyes closing.

You peek at him from the corner of your eye and smile, “Feeling sleepy?”

He nods, “‘Lil bit. Was stressin’ over Estrella but she finally got that calf out. Both of ‘em are resting now.” Joel presses tiny kisses against your neck, and you sigh, savoring them.

“That’s good they’re both okay. I want to see the baby.” You say, turning off the water and turning in his arms to face him.

“You can. We can go see ‘em tomorrow morning. That sound okay to you?”

You shake your head yes, looking into Joel’s eyes, “Sounds fine to me.”

The smell of fresh baked pecan pie wafts through the kitchen and your eyes light up. “I think the pies done. Shall we take a look?” You ask.

“We shall.” Joel counters with his country twang and you giggle.

He opens the oven and you slip on the mitt before pulling the pie out and setting it on top of the stove. “Now we have to let it cool.”

Joel sighs impatiently, “Let it cool? We can’t cut into it now?”

“No, I mean, unless you want hot pecan sugar soup. It has to firm up!” You say, turning the oven off.

Joel groans playfully and you shake your head, “You can wait twenty more minutes, okay?”

He rolls his eyes but nods, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ve been waitin’ months anyways so what’s another twenty minutes?”

“Exactly.”

Joel moves to the sink to finish up washing the dishes while you poke and prod at the pie making sure it firms up okay. And after cleaning the kitchen, putting away the ingredients into Joel’s cabinets, and a little make out session, twenty minutes have already passed.

You pull back from Joel, his lips following yours as he isn’t quite ready to stop yet. You hush against his mouth, “Joel… you know what time it is?”

“Hmm, time for me to keep kissin’ you?” He asks, pressing his lips to yours again.

You hum, pushing him back, “Pie time.”

Joel’s eyebrows raise, “‘Fuckin’ finally.”

The two of you gather around the stove as you stick your knife into the pie and cut it into 8 big, individual slices. You take Joel’s plate and serve him first then dish up yours as well. Once back at the table you wait for him to take a bite, anticipating his reaction as nerves settle in your tummy. It’s his favorite pie so this is a big deal.

Joel sticks his fork into his slice and then into his mouth. You watch him closely as he chews a few times, anxiety creeping from your tummy to your neck. But then, his eyes close and you swear you hear him moan.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” He utters, his mouth still full of the pie.

Your eyes light up and you smile, “Is it good?”

Joel looks at you from the corner of his eyes and then back down to his plate, immediately shoving another bite into his mouth. He doesn’t say anything. Even when his first slice is gone and even when he finishes another one. He goes for a third and you stop him, grabbing his wrist gently.

“Joel, baby… calm down. Your pie isn’t going anywhere.” You laugh.

Joel clears his throat, a hint of red on his cheeks, “I know, darlin’. But you think that cherry pie’a yours was good? This could win contests.”

Your eyes roll and you shake your head, “You’re just saying that. You always hype my food up. It can’t all be good!

Joel looks at you incredulously, “It can’t all be good? Are you kiddin’ me? You haven’t made a bad thing yet. But this? I might need one a week. Maybe two.”

You laugh, finally taking a bite of your own slice. You were too entranced by his display of gluttony to even try it yet. But fuck, once you had a taste, you knew he was right. Your eyes fluttered shut as you savored the nuttiness from the pecans and the caramelized sugar, “Okay, you’re right. This is better than the cherry pie.”

“Pecan is always better than cherry. But you know what would taste even better?” He asks.

Your eyebrows knit together as you take another bite of pie and look at Joel, “Hmm?”

“You.”

You choke on your bite of food and look up at him, smiling as a blush creeps onto your cheeks. Joel smirks, pushing his plate aside and leaning over the table to look at you. You lock eyes for a moment, unspoken longing simmering between the both of you and without words, you both stand up. Joel grabs your hand again and pulls you back down the hallway to his room. That nervous feeling settles in the pit of your stomach again, but you push it away. Images of Luke flash in your mind from before; when he loved you. When you loved him. It was almost annoying at this point. Why did you keep thinking of him? It’d been weeks if not months you had any sort of romantic feeling for him and while you supposed some guilt still did linger, you absolutely didn’t mind the way your body thrummed with desire for Joel.

Joel doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. It’s not like anyone’s gonna hear anything or walk in on you, which at this point, you didn’t really care if they did. After this day of touches and kisses and teasing, you needed all of him.

Your body shook with nerves and adrenaline as you stepped in to Joel’s room with him. It was really going to happen. You were going to fuck this man you’d be pining for for months. Joel on the other hand, was calm and collected. He walked over to his bed, peeling back the covers before stripping himself of his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. As he pulled the zipper down, he looked up to you, a soft smile on his lips.

“Gonna get in bed?” He asks, nonchalantly as all hell.

You twiddle your fingers as you sway from one foot to another, “I dunno. Do you want me to?”

Joel looks at you and rolls his eyes, “Darlin’…” he begins, but you cut him off.

“You gonna fuck me?”

Joel’s smile drops ever so slightly, thinking of what to say next. But it comes back as quickly as it disappears. “Gonna be disappointed if I don’t?”

You bite your lip and shrug slightly. Joel laughs, “I’ll take that as a yes then. Come ‘ere. It’s been too long since I’ve touched you.”

“You were holding my hand like maybe 2 minutes ago.” You grin softly, climbing into bed with him. His arms wrap around you, pulling you on top of him. He grunts in satisfaction as your body weight settles on his lower tummy, hands planted firmly at your hips. His thumbs rub tiny circles into your skin as he pushes your shirt over your head, exposing your bare breasts to the cold air in the room. Your nipples harden instantly and your lips part, a short puff of air escaping them. Joel’s eyes dilate as he rakes them over your skin, his hands inching up your torso until they meet the swell of your breasts.

“So fuckin’ pretty… can’t believe you want me.” He mumbles.

You scoff, a smile on your face, “What do you mean by that?”

Joels thumbs pad over your hardened nipple, causing your cunt to throb. Your hands plant themselves against Joel’s chest, your fingertips weaving between the hair that litters it.

“What I mean is… I’m old enough to be your daddy, but maybe you’re into that. Maybe you like the idea of being with an old fucker like me.”

Your eyes roll, “Yeah, that must be it. I have an old man fetish.” You shake your head and laugh, a smile on his lips as well, “But no, Joel. I think it’s actually the fact that I think you’re amazing. You are so sweet, and kind and I don’t think you realize that. I think you have this idea of yourself that you’re this rough around the edges, loner type but you aren’t. I’ve never had someone be so gentle with me. It makes perfect sense as to why I’ve fallen so hard for you.”

Joel’s fingers stop as he stares at you for a long while. Suddenly, he sits up, holding your body close to him. His arms wrap around your frame, pulling you flush against his chest as his eyes don’t leave yours. “Please… be with me.” He speaks, throat bobbing as he swallows thickly.

Your heart stills, “I am, Joel. I’m with you right now.”

“No, you know what I mean.” And you do. You absolutely know what he means. He wants you to leave Luke and be his. You want to. So desperately.

“Joel-”

“No, don’t give me that. You don’t love Luke. He doesn’t treat you well. Don’t you think being with me would be better?” He asks, his voice quiet, like he’s nervous.

“It would. It would be so much better, Joel-”

“Then leave him and be with me-” He interrupts.

“Please don’t interrupt me. I deal with enough of that from my husband.” You say in frustration, trying to pull back from him but he doesn’t let you go.

“Don’t pull away from me. You don’t have to be defensive with me. I’m sorry I interrupted you. I won’t do it again, I just… I want you, in every capacity. I want to wake up next to you, have you make me coffee every mornin’ just like you do now. I want to listen to my records with you and have you show me that Gilman Girls show you talk about all the time.” He says and you laugh softly.

“Gilmore Girls, Joel.”

“Yeah, that one. I want to have dinner with you and do the dishes together, then climb into bed so I can hold you, kiss you… so I can make love to you, and we don’t have to worry about anythin’ else. Just us.”

Your heart races and you feel tears spring to your eyes, the longing he feels for you blooming in your chest tenfold. Joel is infinitely better than Luke. In every way. He’s attentive and thoughtful and so kind it makes you lightheaded. Life here on the farm with Joel might not be so bad. You actually might enjoy it. You know you would. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind. But would you be willing to give up everything for him? You sigh, and without another beat; you speak.

“Okay.” You say, wiping a tear from your cheek. “Okay. I’ll leave Luke.”

Joel’s eyes widen and his shoulders rise and fall with the deep breaths he forces himself to take, “My sweet girl… you will?”

You nod, “Yes. I want all of that with you. I want to wake up at 5am and help you with the chickens and tend to Estrella and her calf. I want to make you treats and fatten you up with them,” Joel smiles and you do too, “I want to lay in bed with you and talk about nonsense and touch you and love you and be with you. I want to be yours, Joel. Not Luke’s. Yours.”

Joel can hear the blood rushing in his ears and he feels like he might actually combust on the spot. His heart races and he closes in on you. “Then that’s what’s gonna happen, darlin’. Just us. Just you. Just me.” Joel hushes, his lips pressing against yours.

You move with him and somehow end up with your back pressed against his plush mattress. Joel begins to remove the boxers he’d given you to wear earlier as you reach for the his jeans, pushing them down his hips fully.

“I want you.” You mumble against his lips.

“You have me, my girl.” He whispers back.

Once out of his jeans, Joel shimmies out of his boxers, leaving you both lying there naked. It’s scary how real it is. Joel is going to fuck you. You’re married and you don’t care. In your mind, your relationship with Luke has been dead for a long time. You don’t have an ounce of emotion in your body for him anymore and with ease, you forget about him once again.

Your attention switches back to Joel so naturally; so fluidly. His cock presses its head against your thigh. He’s so painfully hard you have no idea how he’s restraining himself.

“Need to be inside you, baby… but fuck, I wanna take my time with you.” He utters, his tone dripping with lust. His lips trail from yours to your jaw to your neck, not caring if he leaves marks or not. You’re leaving Luke. You’re his and he’s going to let the world know.

He moves further down, his tongue snaking in between the valley of your breasts and lower to your navel. He sucks at the skin on your tummy, marking you there as well. Another annoying blip of Luke flashes through your mind and how if he saw these marks on your body, it’d be over. It’s over anyways. Those thoughts go as quickly as they came when you realize Joel has buried his nose in the small tufts of hair that litters your skin down there. He’s like a mad man at work, huffing his way down to your folds and breathing in.

“Good God, sweet girl. Need’a taste so bad. Smell so fuckin’ divine I could lose it right now.” He speaks as his nose prods against your opening, his rough fingers meeting your walls to spread them open. His tongue dips in, licking against the swollen bud and it has you seeing stars. Your fingers lace into his hair as you keen into his ministrations, angling your hips up to his mouth.

His name litters the air as it stumbles out of your mouth over and over, like a mantra. Your whimpers of pleasure urges Joel to get more into it, sucking and flicking his tongue against your clit. His finger trails down, slipping into your soaked cunt as he begins to pump two of them in and out slowly.

“So fuckin’ wet, baby… taste like heaven.” He mumbles, his lips wrapping right back around your bud. Your brows tense as Joel curls his finger, hitting the soft spot in your pussy. Your fingers pull his hair tighter, your mouth opening as you moan silently, your orgasm embarrassingly close. He was so fucking good at this.

“Joel… fuck-Joel.”

“I know, baby, I know. I can feel you clenching around my fingers baby girl, go on and let go for me.” He hushes out, his warm breath only adding fuel to the fire. Joel’s expert tongue swirls and presses like he’s dotting his I’s and crossing his T’s and after a few more strokes of his fingers, you can’t hold back anymore.

“Fuck, I’m coming, Jo- Fuck!” You hiss through your teeth as your hands release the grip on his head and find solace on his bed sheets. Wave after wave hits you and you feel like you can’t even breathe. You try and it’s like it’s stuck in your chest. Joel doesn’t back down either, his tongue, lips and fingers all working away like he’s possessed. He’s addicted to your taste, and he’ll never give it up.

Your body begins to recoil away with overstimulation and once you whimper his name, he comes to. His head peeks up from between your legs and he smiles, his beard damp and cheeks glistening with your slick. It makes your heart skip a beat. He leans his head to your thigh and kisses it, breathing heavily himself.

Joel makes his way up your body, letting his weight down on top of you and it feels like bliss. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as you pull him to you. Your lips meet his as he lets your taste yourself on him, his tongue tangling with yours like it was with your clit only moments ago. He’s still hard, probably even more so as you feel it press into your still-sensitive core. His tip begins to slide between your folds, and you spread your legs wider. Joel smiles into the kiss before pulling back.

“Ready for me, baby?” He asks with such softness you can’t believe how lucky you are to be here with him right now. You nod, your eyes opening to meet his. You want to watch him as he enters you.

His gaze is tender and full of what you think could be love. You didn’t want to jump the gun and say that it was, but… if he said it to you, you might just say it back. His hand caresses your cheek as he watches you intently, like he’s dazed. You turn your head into his palm, kissing the rough skin. No words are said, and none need to be. Joel lets out a deep breath as his hand tucks some of your hair behind your ear before trailing it down to your leg and guiding it to wrap around his. His cock slips into you ever so slightly and your breath hitches.

“Please, Joel… I need you… need more.” You speak; your voice hoarse. Joel smiles, leaning down and pecking your lips once more. He nods, words failing to find him now. He looks back into your eyes and pushes his hips forward. His cock sinks into you so deliciously it has you stunned. The way the girth stretches you out feels like you were made to take it. You were made for Joel; you were sure of it.

Joel, on the other hand, was a mess. When this whole thing started, he was so calm, like he’d planned this forever. Maybe he had. He didn’t dare close his eyes, not wanting to miss a second of this as he pushed in further. Soft grunts escape him as he bottoms out and then holds it there, letting the both of you adjust.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice shaky.

You nod, “I’m perfect.”

He nods back, pulling his hips back all the way before pushing them back in. He begins to find a steady rhythm, rocking against your body and that’s when you allow your eyes to close. One of his hands meets the pillow next to your head and he moves quicker. Grunts and moans slip from him which surprise you; you didn’t expect him to be so vocal. You’re right behind him though, his name being moaned into the ether as yours drips from his mouth. He’s already close, you can tell. But he’s trying to hold on as long as he can. He wants to savor this. He’s scared he won’t get this opportunity again.

Joel pulls his cock out of you, his chest rising and falling as he steadies himself. You look up to him, confused as to why he’s stopped. Maybe he’s regretting it. Maybe he feels guilty for it all. You sit up on your elbows, eyebrows knit tight.

“Joel, everything okay?”

He wipes his face and nods, “Yeah, baby… on your knees for me.”

Your eyes widen and you immediately turn around, gathering yourself on to your hands and knees to which Joel groans. He grabs your hips, pulling you against him and you feel his hard cock rut into your behind slightly. Joel brings a hand down to your ass, the smack echoing in the dimly lit room as you hum in delight.

“Gonna fuck you good, sweet girl. ‘Member I promised that?” He says, guiding his cock back into your slick. You breathe out, arms faltering slightly as you try and hold yourself up for him.

Joel smacks your ass again, “I said, remember? Use your words, pretty girl.”

“Yes, I remember.” You hiss, your pussy gripping around his length like a vice.

“Fuck- r-remember what? What did I tell you I was gonna do?” Another smack, your cheeks branded with his handprint.

“Ah, Joel-fuck! You-you said you were going to fuck me good. Please… do it. Fuck me.” You beg, your tone dripping with desperation. Joel smiles and kneads the skin he’d been rough with as he begins to pump in and out again.

“Good girl.”

He grabs your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he moves. He pumps into you over and over and you can’t think straight. Your arms give out not even two minutes into it and your head buries itself in his pillows. Joel doesn’t care; he just grips you tighter to make sure you don’t get too far away.

“That’s it, you’re takin’ it so fuckin’ good, baby. So good. So… mine. All mine, right?” He moans, his voice rough.

You don’t respond, too busy focusing on his cock that stretches your pussy out. Focused on the way he seems to hit that one spot in your cunt over and over. He takes his hand to your ass again, this time smacking it but grabbing a fist full afterwards.

“I said, right?”

“Yes, Joel, all yours! Only fucking yours.”

It’s like music to Joel’s ears as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulling your back against his torso. His hips never stop, even as you both adjust to the new position, his left hand reaching up to your breast to squeeze and his right flying down to your clit, rubbing quick circles. He wants you to come with him and he’s ridiculously close, but so were you.

“Shit, baby,” He heaves, “‘M gonna cum, gonna fill you up. That okay?” He asks through his rough grunting.

You nod immediately, not minding any implications, “Fuck, yes, Joel. Please. Please fuckin’ finish inside me.” Your orgasm teeters the edge as his fingers and cock assault your core, seconds from overflowing.

Hearing you beg Joel to finish inside you is all he needed to let go. Both of you cry out in pleasure as you feel Joel’s hot seed coat your walls. He fucks it further into you, no sign of him pulling out, but you didn’t want him to. Your body ignites as your own orgasm hits, your pussy clenching around Joel’s cock, milking him dry. You’ve never felt this sort of electric current spread through your veins, this liquid fire working its way to every point of your body and it’s just too much.

Finally, after a few more moments of Joel thrusting; his hand on your clit seizes its movements and he pulls out. Your head falls back on to his shoulder as you try to catch your breath, body completely spent. You feel his touch graze over you skin as he trails them up to your breasts and back down your tummy, like he’s trying to map every inch of your body to his memory. He’s so scared he’s going to lose you, and you can tell. His lips ghost over your neck and shoulders and back, while his hands palm at your skin.

“Joel, settle down.” You giggle; your eyes still closed in euphoria.

He sighs, “Sorry, Darlin’. I’m just… I’m just feelin’ you is all.”

“I know you are and that’s okay. But we’re going to do this again, you know? Again, and again, and again.” You say with a smile as you turn to face him again. You can feel his seed begin to leak out of you and you clench, wanting to keep it inside.

“You sure?” Joel asks, his body hovering yours as you lay on your back.

You nod; eyes heavy with exhaustion even if you’d napped most of the day. Joel relaxes slightly, easing his body down to lay on yours and it has you reeling.

“I love this feeling. You on me. Us. All of it.” Your words come out in a mumble and Joel smiles, kissing your chin and then your cheeks.

“I know. Me too.” He hums, his lips lingering over your skin as he ghosts more kisses across your face. He pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath. “So, how are we…? How are you… ya know, gonna tell Luke?”

You pause for a long time. Each second that passes has Joel’s heart racing quicker and harder. What if you’d changed your mind?

Another pause and a breath; you speak. “I… don’t know.”

Joel doesn’t move. He just lays there on top of you and lets you think a while. “How do I tell my husband I want a divorce?”

“You go up to him and say ‘Luke. I want a divorce.’” Joel says plainly and you let out a breathy laugh.

“Is it really that simple?” You ask, your eyes meeting his.

He pauses this time, his eyes dilating as he gazes upon your face. “No. It isn’t.”

You nod, eyelids closing. “I know.”

“But we’ll figure it out. Okay? No way in hell am I ever lettin’ you go now. I’ll fight Luke for you.” He speaks. You laugh again but you know he’s serious. He would fight Luke. He’d win too.

“That won’t be necessary… but I’d fight him too.” This time Joel laughs and leans down, nuzzling his head into your neck and wrapping his arms around your frame. You’ve never felt so safe. So loved.

You don’t know when you fall asleep, but it happens. Your body melds into Joel’s and the both of you lull into a deep sleep. You don’t wake up until late morning the next day. Joel’s already out of bed, probably somewhere on the farm doing his duties. You sit up, the blankets pooling around your waist when you look over to the clock on Joel’s bedside table. It’s a quarter passed 10 already. You decide to get up, getting dressed in Joel’s shirt from yesterday and a pair of his sweats. You see an old sweater in his drawers too and you figured you’d help yourself. It is getting chilly outside after all. Plus, you had the inkling Joel was the type to like you in his clothes anyways.

After slipping on your shoes, you decided to head to the barn. He was more than likely there, considering Estrella was in active labor yesterday. The cold air nipped your nose as you hugged yourself, crossing the yard to the barn. It was open, the overhead light flipped on. You could hear humming from Joel in the distance and you smiled.

It was warmer in the barn. Joel turned the space heater on for the calf and for the mama.

“Joel?” You called out, waiting for his response.

He peeks his head around the corner, his eyes wide as he smiles to you. He steps from behind the wall, wiping his hands on a rag that he slings over his shoulder. Heat pools in your tummy as he approaches you, the simple gesture turning you on.

“Hi, darlin’. Everything okay?” He asks. You nod. “Sleep okay?”

You nod again. “Best sleep I think I’ve ever had. I was so warm and cozy.”

Joel smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Yeah? Me too. And to think… we’re gonna be sleepin’ like that from here on out, huh?”

You feel your stomach coil in a way that makes you nervous. It’s excitement, but it’s nerve-wracking. You’re really going to have to tell Luke it’s over. Your mind swims with different ideas of ways to break it to him. Maybe you could tell him you’re actually not interested in men anymore. Yeah, that could work. The good ol’ lesbian switcheroo. Or maybe you could tell him you’re dying. You could fake your death and just never have to confront what’s really going on. You could never tell him you’re in love with another man. With someone he’s known since he was a child. You sigh as you realize you just need to tell him you’re unhappy. That you don’t want this anymore… that you don’t want him. Maybe you could even leave Joel out of it. Just tell him you’re done, that you want to go back to the city. Luke would. He wouldn’t stay here. That way you could sneak back and live with Joel. But that was a longshot.

Joel notices your silence and he nudges you slightly, “Baby? Everythin’ okay in that pretty lil’ head of yours?”

Your eyes snap up to Joels, slightly widened but you nod.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m okay. Just thinking of what I should tell Luke.”

Joel nods, opening his mouth to say something when the devil himself appears.

“Tell Luke what?” Luke speaks, smiling at you and Joel as he steps into the barn. He must have seen you come inside it.

Your heart stills and you feel it drop to your ass as you whip around, eyes meeting his. Joel’s hands drop from your waist, and you can’t even think straight. Your heart pounds so hard you feel like you’re rocking on a boat during a thunderstorm, the waves threatening to consume you.

Luke begins to notice that Joel’s hands were on you, once gripped tightly around the sides of your body, now limp at his sides. Twitching. Like they’re aching to hold you again. He notices the clothes you adorn. They’re not yours and they’re definitely not his. Luke’s stomach drops and his smile falls, his own heart racing. Luke might be oblivious to some things, but he’s not an idiot, and he quickly pieces together what’s happening. And then he sees the marks on Joel’s neck. And then on yours.

“What. The. Fuck?” He hisses. His face begins to burn red and he sees it too.

“Luke, please. Let me explain-” You begin, your voice panicked and desperate.

“Oh, no. You don’t need to explain. I know exactly what is going on here… and you know what? I just knew this was going to happen. I knew it. I had this feeling and look! I’m right!”

Your brows knit together and you cross your arms. “Luke, what?”

Luke scoffs, “Babe… you don’t think I haven’t noticed you getting up at five… six in the morning to make Joel coffee? Or the way you’d bounce over to the guest house, the brightest smile on your face like you were going to see the love of your life? You’ve never smiled like that with me! If you don’t think I’ve noticed that then you must be dumber than I thought you were. So fucking dumb.”

Your heart breaks at his words. You know he’s just trying to hurt you, but man does it fucking suck. You loved him wholeheartedly at one point and now you just don’t know him. You haven’t for months. Probably even before you got to the farm. Tears well up in your eyes as you go to say something but get cut off.

“Listen here, you little shit. You will not talk to her like that any longer. Do you hear me?” Joel seethes, but Luke isn’t going to back down.

He laughs, “Upset ‘cause I called her dumb? She just threw everything away for you! You, Joel. 50 years old and what to show for yourself? Living on a dead woman’s farm? No family, no kids. You just had to steal someone else’s wife, huh? You know what? You can have her. She’s a fucking whore anyways!”

“Luke, stop.” You say, your voice wavering as you try and find it, your heart shattering at his words.

“You little fucker. You can say all the shit you want to, Luke,” Joel begins, “But in the end, it was me who fucked your wife, wasn’t it? She had to turn to me ‘cause it was you who couldn’t take care of her.”

You look at Joel with wide eyes at his crude words and you scoff, looking back and forth as the two of them begin to argue. They raise their voices, stepping closer to one another and it just becomes too much. You break.

“Stop! The both of you! Fucking stop!” You yell, your eyes filling with tears. They spill wildly and you don’t even try and wipe them away. Luke looks at you in annoyance and as soon as Joel’s eyes meet yours, he’s nervous. He’s realized what he’s said in anger and he hates to see you cry. He hates that he’s part of the reason you are. Joel tries to reach out to you, uttering a ‘baby’ and you push him back.

“No. Just… stop.” You sob. Your voice is small and nervous, but you knew whatever the outcome of this was, it’d end in disaster. It’d end in heartbreak.

“Luke,” You begin, “I was so in love with you, I mean, fuck. I married you. I moved seven hours out of the city to live in the fucking countryside with you! And not once, did you take my feelings into consideration. The more I think about it; I don’t think you ever did. It was all about you. You’ve been horrible to me the last however long we’ve been here-”

“I haven’t been horrible to you-”

“Let me speak!” You yell back, your fists tightening into little balls. Luke rolls his eyes but shuts up. Joel’s eyes flicker down to your fists, and he physically holds himself back from reaching for them. From reaching for you. He so desperately wants you in his arms, telling you it’ll be okay, that’s he’s sorry, but he knows he can’t. You wouldn’t let him.

“You have been horrible. Not speaking to me or berating me when you do. Pushing me for sex when I didn’t want it. Calling me names and meaning them. ‘Whore’? Really, Luke? The venom you have in your voice when you talk to me… you can’t deny any of that.”

Luke stays silent because he knows you’re right. He can’t look at you anymore and turns his head, his eyes closing as his shoulders slump.

“And you,” You speak, turning to Joel, “What the fuck was that? Boasting like I’m some… trophy? Like I’m-”

“I cheated on you too.” Luke says. Your eyes widen and both you and Joel turn to him. “I am cheating on you. With uh, Caroline.” He says, mentioning his coworker. She was a couple years younger than you and Luke. Newer to the company. You’re pretty sure Luke mentioned he was training her when she was hired about a year ago.

You can’t say you’re shocked. You can’t really say anything as there isn’t much for you to say.

“So, we’re both not innocent then, huh?” You speak. Your voice is serious and final, “Let’s get divorced. We should end this.”

Luke scoffs, crossing his arms. His face begins to falter. He knows you’re right. This should end. He wants to be bitter and petty and hurt you more, but he knows he’s hurt you enough. At one point, he cared about you too. You were the light of his life and then things changed. Work got stressful, Karla died, and his family pressured him to take the farm. He didn’t want to. He has no clue how to take care of a farm, clearly. He had no clue how to take care of you. And to him, it seemed like Joel did.

“Let’s talk about this inside.” He sighs.

A couple hours later you find yourself walking out the back door of the farmhouse and down the hill to Joel’s guest house. Your cheeks are tear stained, and nose is tinged red from crying. No shoes on. The familiar ache of the cold gravel against the heels of your feet almost comforting you.

Once on the rickety porch you’d stepped on to hundreds of times before, you approached the door, rapping on it lightly. Joel only took a few moments to answer it.

“Hi.” You said as you watched him. He looked nervous, cheeks pink with anxiety. Or maybe he’d been crying too. You didn’t know.

“Can I come in?” You asked. He nodded immediately, stepping aside. He didn’t speak though. Maybe he was too nervous to. Too scared. He was terrified this was it.

You made your way to the plaid couch you’d grown to love so much, settling against the soft cushions and breathing out. Joel lingered, standing by the door. He was unsure of what he should do next. Should he sit down? Should he reach out to you? Comfort you? Should he just get the fuck off this farm and never look back? No, he wouldn’t do that. He needed you too badly.

Your reddened, watery eyes looked up to Joel causing his breath to stutter. The anxiety bubbled up from his chest to his throat and he clears it, watching for your next move. You sniffle, rubbing your eyes before holding your arms out to Joel. You needed to be held. He moved to you in lightning speed, scooping you up into his arms and cradling you delicately. Joel settles on to the couch with you in his grasp. He presses small kisses against your temples, scalp and forehead, his heart racing a mile a minute.

“I’m here, baby. Not goin’ nowhere. Not ever. You have me.” He speaks. His words are desperate and needy, like he needs to ingrain it into your mind that he’s yours. Because he is.

Joel holds you for a long time. He’s not sure how long, but it had to be at least an hour or so. His hands rub up and down your back, tracing the curve of your waist and spine. He wants to comfort you, just like you being here comforts him.

It’s a little longer before you speak. You sniffle and pull back slightly, looking up to him. “I’m sorry, Joel.”

His heart races again, “Sorry? What’re you sorry for, darlin’?”

“For everything.” You squeek, your voice cracking. “For getting you into this mess.”

He sighs, “Baby… that’s not somethin’ you need to be sorry for. I wanted you just as bad as you wanted me. Even more so.”

You look away and blink, shrugging. “I just… I don’t know. I don’t know what else to say.”

“That’s alright. You don’t gotta know what to say. Just let me hold you, okay? Whatever happens, we’ll get through it. You and I.” He says, burying his head against the top of yours, breathing in the lingering tea tree scent from his shampoo. His eyes close, heart hammering in his chest which you can hear. The corners of your lips turn upwards, tears springing to your eyes.

“Are you nervous, Joel?”

He pauses a moment before nodding. “Lil’ bit. Just scared you’re gonna go away or somethin’.”

You pause this time, your mind drifting back to your conversation with Luke inside.

“So, sleeping with Joel, huh?” Luke says. You roll your eyes as you sit on the velvet green couch in the living room. He sits on the opposite side of it.

“Sleeping with Caroline, huh?” You retort and he blows a raspberry. There’s a long silence before anyone decides to speak. Tears prick your eyes, and you feel yourself just wanting to run to Joel. He’d make everything feel okay again. You wipe your eyes and Luke sighs.

“I don’t know why you’re crying. This has been coming for a long time. You’re so fucking sensitive.” He says, his tone quiet. He’s annoyed.

“I know. It still hurts though. Sorry for being sensitive, I guess.”

Another long silence, either of you not knowing what to say. He decides to finally look at you, his eyes gazing over your features, appreciating the way your eyelashes curl and then way your eyes glisten, still so full of life and love despite what’s going on. The last time he’s going to do that.

Luke sighs. His next words almost shock you.

“I’m sorry. You know that right?” He speaks. Your eyebrows knit and you look at him, more tears falling.

“Are you?”

He pauses again. “Yes. I didn’t mean to turn into such an asshole. I didn’t mean to make you run into the arms of someone who could treat you better. I just… stopped caring. It’s not okay. I’m sorry.” Luke taking accountability? This was new.

You shrug, wiping your tears away. You were so tired of crying.

“Well, I appreciate that, Luke. It sucks it turned out like this. That we… Turned out like this.”

“So, what should we do? What… do you want to do?” Luke asks. He’s calm. Sad, but he’s calm. No more venom. He’s ready for this to be over, and frankly, so you were you.

“I think a divorce would be best. There’s no love here. Not how it used to be anyways.” Which was true. You’d always have a love for Luke even if you weren’t in love with him.

He nods, wiping his nose. He wasn’t a crier, but this was hard for him too. You didn’t think it would be, but he was always surprising you.

“Okay. What about… the farm? I’m not staying here anymore, my family will have to decide what happen-”

“Joel should have it.” You say, interrupting him. “He’s been here 25 years. He can take care of it better than anyone in your family would. Hell, Karla couldn’t even take care of it. That’s why she hired him.”

He scoffs, “Oh, so you want Joel to get the farm so you can stay and live out your weird farm fantasy with him?” Luke spits, that venom seeping back into his words. He was always going to be like that.

You sigh, closing your eyes. “No. That’s not it at all. I don’t even know what’s happening with Joel and I, Luke. I don’t know where I’m going after this. But let’s face it… Karla would want him to have it.”

Luke huffs and stands up, pacing the room as he thinks. It’s another few moments before he says anything. He turns towards you, his eyes sad but he gives you a curt nod. His shoulders fall in defeat. He didn’t want to fight anymore. “You’re right. Joel should have it. Even if you decide to stay here with him. Which is insane to me… you didn’t even want to come here in the first place.”

You nod softly, remembering those months ago when Luke told you you’d be moving here. How much you hated it. How you’d stay up at night and have panic attacks at the idea of leaving the city. Now look at you. You couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

“I’ll tell my family. No one else really wanted it anyways. Not even Nick. So, it’s Joel’s… and… yours?” He asks cautiously.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Luke. I already told you that. We’ll… see.”

He nods again, his shoulders slumping further as he exhales a breath he wasn’t aware that he was even holding. You stand, knees a little wobbly from the adrenaline finally settling in your body.

“So, this is it then?” Luke says, biting down on his bottom lip. You nod.

“Yeah. It is.”

He looks away from you, looking anywhere besides where you stood. He knows he screwed up and he feels bad, yet a part of him feels free. He decides to step forward, awkwardly opening his arms to you and you hesitate, but you take it. The both of you have a final embrace. It’s empty. He just feels like another body against yours. There’s no emotion, but somehow, it’s the closure you needed.

“So, I’ll see ya?” Luke says, inhaling the scent of you one last time. He nearly scowls. Tea tree. He hated tea tree.

“Yeah, maybe not.” You laughed, tears spilling from your eyes. You wipe them away and he smiles, laughing too.

“Are you nervous, Joel?”

He pauses a moment before nodding. “Lil’ bit. Just scared you’re going to go away or somethin’.”

You pause, slightly unsure of what to say. It makes him more nervous.

“Do you want me to?” You finally ask Joel. He pushes you back, looking into your eyes.

“Do I want you to leave?” He asks. He looks like you’ve asked the silliest question in the world, but you nod anyways. He doesn’t speak for a moment, trying to find the right words to say.

“If you decide to leave, there’s nothing I can do about that… but I think it’d just down right kill me.”

His words make your heart leap, and you close your eyes, not wanting anymore tears to spill. You lean forward, burying your face in Joel’s chest. His fingers lace through your hair, his whole being trying to convey the fact that he wants you to stay right here with him.

“Then I’ll stay.” You mumble into the fabric of his sweater, but he doesn’t quite hear you.

“Hmm?”

You peer up to him, your lashes damp as your glossy eyes look into his dark, anxious ones. It takes his breath away.

“I said I will stay. Here with you.”

Joel’s heart stops as he finally hears you and all he can do is close his eyes and pull you back into him. He holds you there against him, not daring to move, not daring to let go. And you stay. You don’t wiggle, you don’t move, you sit there breathing him in deeply. The comfort this man gave you was insane. You could live here in his arms, on this farm, hours from a real town or city and you would be happy. You’d have him and he’d have you.

Images of your life on the farm with Joel flash through your mind and it has you reeling. Winter on the farm and being bundled up with him in bed, trying to stay warm with the space heater since the main house has a mean draft. Maybe you could convince him to get matching pajamas with you. Christmas ones with trees and stars on it.

You imagine helping Joel with Estrella and her baby in the spring. He could teach you how to tend to the chickens and horses so you could help fetch the eggs without getting pecked and even brush the horse's manes, giving them a braid or two. Joel’s been talking about starting a garden. It’d be the perfect time to get cucumbers planted, and tomatoes even.

Maybe in the summertime, you and Joel could lay a blanket on the hill in the backyard and watch the clouds pass by and as the day turned to night, you could count the stars in the sky with him. Maybe he’d lean over and kiss you, his hand trailing from your jaw to your neck to your waist. He’d take you on that blanket, under the moon, making love to the only woman he’d ever wanted in his life to stay with him for good.

And maybe that fall, you’d run into the stables, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gripped the little stick in your hand. Joel would look at you with concern, his brows knitted together tightly before looking down to what was gripped in your palm. He’d rush over to you, asking what it said, and you’d smile, nodding your head.

“Thank you.” He speaks. It’d been God knows how long since someone had said something, but you didn’t mind. The silence was comfortable with him. You look up to him again, the side of your cheek smooshed against his peck, and he smiles.

“Thank you? For what?” You ask. Joel’s hands caress the side of your cheek that’s not pressed against his chest, and he hums.

“For stayin’. Lord nows why you’d stay, but I’m glad. Real glad, my sweet girl.”

“Yeah, well… this place has grown on me. Who would have thought?” You say, smiling softly. Joel smiles too.

“Yeah, just the charm of the farm, huh, sugar? Nothing else?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Hmm… nope. I just really like Estrella. And her new baby is really cute too.”

Joel’s eyes roll but then he leans down and pecks your lips in a sequence. He presses his lips against yours over and over and you think to yourself there’s no way you could ever get sick of this.

He pulls back and wipes the hair out of your face, “Just so God damn pretty, baby girl. Can’t believe I’ll get to look at you every day. Get to touch you and kiss you.” Joel speaks and he’s really just talking to himself. He’s trying to convince himself this is really happening. You sit up, placing your legs on either side of Joel as you straddle him. His eyes flash with desire and it goes straight to his groin. You can feel it as his length pokes against your core but he doesn’t try anything. He just looks at you.

“Sorry, darlin’. Don’t gotta do nothin’ about it, just happens when I’m around you.”

You shake your head, corners of your mouth flitting upwards. “It’s okay, Joel. I don’t mind it. I kinda love that I can turn you on so easily.”

Joel smirks, “’Kinda’ love it? What do you think cause I’m damn near geriatric I shouldn’t be able to get it up anymore?”

“Oh my god. That’s not what I’m saying.” You say as your face burns, and you roll your eyes.

He laughs, “I know, baby. I just like givin’ you a hard time.”

“Hmm… well, I know something else that's hard you can give to me.” You smirk. You’re kidding and he knows it but it still turns him on even further. His grip on your waist tightens before trailing it down to your ass and pulling you against him. You feel that familiar ache in between your legs as his tip teases you through your pants. You shake your head.

“Joel…” You say warningly.

“I know, I know. It’s not really a sexy time right now, is it?”

You nod, “Not really… maybe later though? Luke’s packing right now. He said he’ll be gone by tomorrow morning. Could I sleep here with you tonight?”

Joel’s heart skips a beat, “I wouldn’t think you’d be anywhere else.”

Silence falls between the two of you as Joel takes your hands into his. His fingers pad over your delicate skin, tracing up the length of them and over the chipped polish on your nails. He laces his with yours and looks into your eyes. Joel feels his heart thump against his chest, an overwhelming sensation bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He’s going to say it. He’s never said it in his entire life to anyone. But he knows he feels it with you. It might be too soon, but in this moment he doesn’t care. He doesn’t know if you feel it too, but he thinks so. Joel’s nervous, and when he opens his mouth to speak, you stop him.

“I know.” You breathe, gripping on to his fingers tightly. Your voice waivers. “You don’t have to say it. I… I know.” And you do. You know exactly what he’s going to say and yes, of course you want to hear it. You feel it too. But you’re not ready. Not yet.

“I feel the same way.” You hush, bringing his knuckles up to your lips and pressing small kisses against them.

Joel’s eyes get blurry, and he nods, huffing slightly. He leans in and kisses you and you kiss him back. It’s simple, but passionate. You can feel the emotion he radiates for you and you hope he can feel it right back.

“I want to say it though, baby girl. You mean so much to me. Greatest fuckin’ thing to ever happen to me if I'm quite honest. Despite some trouble here and there.” He hums, lips pressing to your cheek and jaw. Your eyes close as you savor his touches, and you hum back.

“Me too. Maybe that’s crazy to say but I’ve never had anyone care for me the way you do, Joel. So, trust me. I feel the exact same way about you. Let’s just wait a little longer to say it. I mean I just found out I’m getting a divorce.”

Joel pulls back and looks into your eyes. They hold stars and galaxies and Joel is convinced that he could look into them forever. One look from you and he’d know everything would work out. You were his home, not this farm. And when he thought about it, it was well worth the wait for him to find you. He’d spend another 50 years alone if that meant he could spend eternity with you when it was all said and done.

The both of you knew there was still a lot to work out, but whatever happened, it’d be you two. That was all you really needed.

“I think… we should go into the kitchen and tear up the rest of that pecan pie. Whaddya think?” Joel smiles, pulling you with him as he gets up from the couch. His arms wrap around your waist as yours wrap around his neck and you smile, nodding to him.

“Sounds good to me. I could go for a lil’ something sweet right now.”

Thank you for reading this. As always, likes and reblogs are appreciated and if you enjoyed reading it, let me know! ♥️

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou #the last of us #oh boy this is a good one #word count is insane but oh well

2K notes · View notes

s-4pphics · 5 months ago

Text

the call. I (sevika + vi)

SYNOPSIS: reddit: a place for thought-dumping and being horny [college au] WORD COUNT: 9.5K WARNINGS: this was supposed to be dark but its very crack-ish, sevika and vi play rugby(kinda minor plot tbh), oc is a crazy redditor and wears skirts, STALKING, 90% SMUT MDNI(fingering + phone sex + munching + mult orgasms + dirty talk, tensionnnn) brief mentions of grief and loss bc me, recreational drug use, JUST TOXIC, abby makes an appearance later A/N: WROTE THIS WITH MY BABY!!! @trackinglessons art by lottie my love my light my everything this is a product of #OVULATIONWEEK and the #ARCANETAKEOVER

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r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 3y

no one likes me.

i [f18] don’t have any friends. at all. i don’t have anyone that’s not family that likes me and sometimes im convinced my family regrets keeping me adound. i just moved cities for uni and haven’t been able to have a valuable conversation with anyone and im starting to think i’m the reason why. to be honest i’ve always been the “weird” one or whatever ppl at school called me. but i don’t think im weird at all. I think i’m nice but ppl treat me like a germ lol they just stare and whisper to each other but i know they’re talking about me

does anyone have any advice on being more approachable? or whatever i’m not even sure what to call it tbh.

kewlio313 • 3y

Everybody’s weird in college! You’re young and finding yourself. Join some organizations and put yourself out there! It’ll work out kid

artkiller OP • 3y

i wish there was a chess club lol

Margie • 3y

how do you go about approaching people?

artkiller OP • 3y

i just walk up and start talking about myself

Margie • 3y

Okay… and what’s their reaction?

artkiller OP • 3y

it’s different every time. sometimes they just leave, sometimes they laugh then leave, other times they’re outwardly mean. one guy told me to ‘shut the hell up bitch’ and i immediately wanted to commit a federal crime(not murder)

Margie • 3y

Goddamn lol. Maybe u r weird

miKrophone • 3y

shut up hoe

artkiller OP • 2y

?? :/

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r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 2y

Advice Needed

how do you know if you’re mentally ill?

hello fellow redditors. lol. i’m finally back… very odd first term i think i got ghosted or whatever it’s called by some dude on the hockey team but yeah i plotted homicide. i’m pretty sure that situation sent me into a spiral. i think im sick.

i’m not sure what’s going on with me but my thoughts have been really dark recently. not necessarily suicidal or harm inflicting(on myself) but… yeah… prettyyyy dark. idk. it’s weird what my brain conjures up sometimes. i guess im curious why my brain thinks the way it does. i’m not a bad person and i know that, but my brain makes me believe that i am. idk what to do at this point. i’ve never been to a professional and tbh i don’t think i should because i don’t wanna be admitted somewhere lol

kewlio313 • 2y

Welcome back kid. It’s often better to seek help even though it can be fucking horrifying, especially in adulthood. Get help and you’ll be fine

artkiller OP • 2y

and if i’m not fine? what do i do then?

kewlio313 • 2y

To be frank, I'm not sure. I’ve been through alot and even I don’t have clear direction on life. I’ve been allowing my intuition to guide me for some time. Just try it and see what happens. Rooting for you

artkiller OP • 2y

thank you

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 2y

Advice Needed

am i a lesbian?

i [f19] think im attracted to females. i can’t stop staring at their tits. i always assumed my middle school peeping was from jealousy or whatever the hell twitter said but now that i’m grown i think i wanna fuck girls. or like. girl adjacents??? idk the terminology or whatever.

PetersJoker • 2y

go eat some pussy and find out

artkiller OP • 2y

no fuckhead

kewlio313 • 2y

… Girl adjacents? Females? Are you actually 40?

artkiller OP • 2y

is this a dig

kewlio313 • 2y

You crack me up. Have you experimented before?

artkiller OP • 2y

i never passed a science class

kewlio313 • 2y

… Alright.

I meant hooking up. Have u kissed a girl before? Slept with one? Or whatever you youngins say these days?

artkiller OP • 2y

no. i’m not a slut lol i hardly go outside

kewlio313 • 2y

Finding out what you like isn’t being a slut. You’re in college for fucks sake. Find you someone to lay with, ya loser.

artkiller OP • 2y

or i should just shoot myself. less complicated then sex

kewlio313 • 2y

Maybe so, but they’re equally as messy.

ButchesForChrist • 2y

Questioning is usually the first sign. Lol

artkiller OP • 2y

fuck me

ButchesForChrist • 2y

Well

��

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 2y

what does sex feel like? (wlw)

[f19] just watched scissor porn for the first time. what the fuck was that. (i need it)

MisandristInTraining • 2y

the work of demons aka men

artkiller OP • 2y

i drink their blood

MisandristInTraining • 2y

Lmao

OnHorseback • 2y

Feels like dying but emotionally • 2y

artkiller OP • 2y

i wanna die physically

OnHorseback • 2y

I’m sure some dirty fuck can set that up for you

artkiller OP • 2y

lit

kewlio313 • 2y

Welcome to the dark side.

artkiller OP • 2y

flirt a little harder oldhead

ButchesForChrist • 2y

Ready to come out?

artkiller OP • 2y

of where

ButchesForChrist • 2y

Bitch…..

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 2y

home sweet home.

hello found family. been mia bc fuck school but i’m back… and i think im a sadist.

does anyone know where rugby originated from? i like watching large women be physical w each other and i wish they would harm me in similar ways. pls push me to the floor and stomp me out(specifically directed to one pink head) i’ve been thinking dirty things all day i need her so fucking bad. is this why ppl r so obsessed with sex? bc of hot people? i get it now. i need her to bend me over and put her cleat on my neck

lezziesthatembezzle • 2y

good morning to u too bitch

artkiller OP • 2y

big muscly girls pls rail me from da bck

lezziesthatembezzle • 2y

someone muzzle this thot

Accuntress • 2y

A dyke’s pride and joy: large women.

kewlio313 • 2y

This is crazily your most normal post. Missed ya. Do well in school

artkiller OP • 2y

:3 🩷

[deleted] • 2y

The cards are in my favor

artkiller OP • 2y

would you like to sex through private message?

[deleted] • 2y

What the fuck you crackhead

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 2y

Advice Needed

sex addiction while a virgin?

is this possible? i shouldn’t have watched ppl with big clits trib. quite criminal. even more criminal when i’ve imagined the girl i’ve been following around for the past 2 weeks doing it to me

[deleted] • 2y

is this who we are….

artkiller OP • 2y

obviously.

kewlio313 • 2y

This is my last straw.

artkiller OP • 2y

hugs xD

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 6mo

i’m confessing.

idc anymore. i don’t give a FUCK. i am in love. i [f21] am in love. the deepest kind i think. love at first sight truly. it’s the kind of love that’s painful. it kills and leaves behind trails of misery if betrayed or lost. whenever i see her, i cry from happiness. her joy is my joy. her hurt is my hurt. our hearts are forever intertwined no matter the distance. i’m writing this for her. if you ever see this: i love you, darling. there’s not a second that goes by where you’re not at the forefront of my mind. i’ll treasure everything we’ve built thus far, and promise to never take it for granted. i hope to die by your side.

i love you. i love you so much.

even if we’ve never spoken.

kewlio313 • 6mo

Yup… she’s lost it, folks. Very deep sigh.

ButchesForChrist • 5mo

That’s part of being a lesbian. She’ll live. Trust me

—

“Violet! … VIOLET!”

Why’s Sev always so loud in the goddamn library? The receptionist already has tacks on her behavior chart like some kindergartener. “I heard you! Jesus Christ, I’m sitting right fucking next to you—“

“I wouldn’t haveta fucking scream if you woulda answered me when I asked 3 days ago! Are you coming on Saturday?”

How does she tell Sev fuck no bitch I don’t wanna go in a polite manner? It’s the first weekend after Christmas break and quite frankly, she's already sick of being on campus. Vi loves her friend to death but holy fuck does she wish she had an off button.

“Just come the hell on and stop—“

“Dude, I—“

“You know it’s not gonna be fun if you’re not there! Half the bitches are comin’ for you! Plus… I think you could use a fun time after… y’know.” Sevika softens — only a bit, she's still Sevika. Hard ass.

She does know. At this point, who doesn’t? Her last year of university started on a bad foot when her family home caught aflame with her little sister and father still inside, but the icing on the cake was when her long term, blue-haired girlfriend sent her the can we talk? important text. Now she’s single with corpses for relatives(she thinks her sister would’ve found that funny). Her teammates returned to campus with her; eyes mournful and hearts sunk to the bottom of their stomachs, so prepared to shield and coddle when needed. Sev was one of them: through every breakdown and anxiety attack and hungry but nauseating night.

“I’m not tryna bring up old shit. You been through a lot and deserve some fun. That’s all I’m sayin’. Get your last bit of jitters out before the season starts.”

Vi nods. She gets it. Losing her sister was just as much of a loss for Sev as it was for her, but somehow, she was able to ease back into herself. Become… normal again. Socializing takes so much energy outta Violet, now. She’d rather go lift or go sock the shit outta rich person. In some ways, she wishes she had as much willpower as her friend.

She knows why Sev wants her to go. New pussy, new me, her and Abby once told her, but she’s not in the mood to smash right now. She’ll probably start crying if they don’t kiss both her cheeks before her nose like… Ugh. She shivers in disgust… and extreme longing. She misses her ex like crazy.

“I know. I’ll, uh, think about it.”

“M’kay… now what the fuck is epitactic theory.”

“Girl…”

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 12mi

Advice Needed

how crazy is it to ask for a threesome from two ppl that don’t know you?

[f21] i’m currently in my campus library watching my girlfriend study with her teammate from my stiff ass beanbag and i need them both like crack. how do i bring intercourse up without making it awkward or uncomfortable? help asap pls

also i might c her this weeknd she’s going out and i wanna go

CreamTeam • 5mi

Wait … so is she your girlfriend or not?? 😭😭

artkiller OP • 2mi

we have a complicated relationship🩷

ButchesForChrist • 1mi

Aka she’s stalking her. Scroll down a little

artkiller OP • 30s

stay out my business

CreamTeam • 1s

What the fuck

kewlio313 • 2mi

I thought we were better than this, honey.

artkiller OP • 30s

you prob are. im not

kewlio313 • 4s

Deep sigh.

Your phone drops from your jittery hands and into your lap, screen glowing with every disappointed reply from fucking Kewlio who you’ve grown to love. You like to call them a friend. A faceless, emotionally intelligent, oddly attractive friend who you’ve never met.

The love of your life is right there, as always. Exactly 34 steps away, past the shelves littered with history novels and biographies, sat at the table surrounded by Liberal Arts textbooks and her star-littered laptop. Black jacket, black shirt, ripped black jeans, hair dyed black: that’s new. Still streaked with pink and somehow you’re even more hungry for her. She’s looked a mess recently: beaten and bruised, coming to class with black eyes and bandages across her pretty nose. It makes you wanna burn down the entire Arts and Sciences building with everyone inside of it.

She’s annoyed with Sevika, you can tell. They’re talking about something. Maybe her sister, rest in peace. Or piss if she sucked. Whatever. A small part wishes you listened a little closer when she talked about Jinx(weird ass nickname, but okay) so you’d know exactly what to ask. She can take out any aggression or sadness on you anytime. In here, outside. You’d drop ‘em for her wherever.

Kewlio is a dirty liar. You’re not a stalker. You’re a fan, an admirer, a lover. Your girl’s simply unassuming… How the fuck is that your fault?

She won’t be like that for long, though.

Vi lost her cleats a few days ago. Her black and blue ones that are worn the hell down and hanging at the seams, but she loves them. Wears them almost every match despite how unsteady they make her on the field. They’re her lucky charm, besides you, of course.

Her lucky charm found her lucky charms.

And by found, you mean broke into her gym locker with the code you memorized 2 years ago and snagged ‘em. She should really get those locks changed before someone takes something important.

The explanation of how you found her cleats exactly? You’re not sure and you’re not dwelling. She’ll be so relieved that you found them that it won’t even matter. Might even drop to her knees and praise you like a God. Is she religious? One of the minor details you don’t know about her.

But you’ll find out soon enough. No worries at all.

You wonder how Caitlyn is doing.

—

Rabbit holes are either your best friend or worst enemy. Today, they’re straddling the fence. Your brain never shuts off when you're in a crisis. You’re ovulating, overstimulated, and searching for a cure from someone you’ve never said hello to.

The internet can solve your problems though. Especially if they’re sex-deprived millennials. Their long-term lack of human contact makes for some hilarious stories and useful what-not-to-dos.

how to finger a vagina

vagina g spot where is it

where is clit vagina

vagina map

scissoring hacks positions

lesbian sex how to

can lesbians do anal

is mommy kink a trauma response

Reddit searches are always on your side. All answers to the world at the tip of your fingers. You love the media! Squirting is not pee evidently. PornHub comments are not a reliable source. You should ask your girlfriend if she squirts.

Caitlyn would know. Fucking BITCH!

how to make girlfriend come

Mansplainer misogynists geeking about making their wives do housework while they sit on their asses and flirt with young Discordians. ‘I clap and she appears’

…

You should craft a bomb that only targets cis-het men because what the fuck is going on right now.

how to make girlfriend cum

‘[M48] I’ve never made my wife climax and we’ve been together for 15 years and have 2 children’

Your eyes are fucking burning. Is it bad to wish death on a person? Cursed imagery. Your fingers attempt to salvage the last bits of your sanity.

how to make girlfriend orgasm wlw

date ideas lesbian

am i crazy quiz

insanity quiz

You’re normal you’re okay you’re literally fine.

mental illness signs for lesbians

what does dying feel lik

“Ma’am.”

You gasp sharply. Librarian. Fuck oh shit

“Hi. We’re, uh, lockin’ up, so…”

You’re still at the library. How much time has passed? How many rabbit holes have you fallen into? Where’s your girlfriend? Her and Sev are gone…

But you know where to find your g-spot! Hooplah!

“Oh ye— Yeah! Uhh… bye.” You stand so fast you get whiplash. Your backpack beats against your back when you adjust the straps on your shoulders. Headphones on, music blasting, and just like that, the world is off and you’re on. Right into the darkness of the city.

You love a stripper’s playlist in times like these.

You love Reddit in times like these.

You walk and walk with an extra skip in your step. Time to drive Kewlio crazy.

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 1s

guys im happy

the joy that i feel rn is unmatched. i love my life. im so excited for the future. thank you god and or universe for these blessings

And post. Nothing could wipe the smile off your face. Nothing nothing nothing you love it here! You love school. You love your girlfriend and her friends and her sport!

“Oof—“

“AH—“

Your back connects with the angles of your hardcovers and fuck you hope your laptop survived that drop. There’s not nearly enough cushion in your bag to cover that fall fuck your life you hate everyone—

“YOU FU—“

“Holy fuckin’ shit I’m so sorry are you ok—“

And your mouth zips. Oh…

Oh.

Your girl’s in running shorts. Squeezing her thighs good ‘n tight and she glistens with sweat, brows pulled down in concern as she eyes you from above. If the sun was still out, the rays would dress her head like a halo. A heavenly sight. You’d die here… but not before a drop of her sweat falls on your face. You need that at least once. Zooweeema—

“Are you oka— fuck, gimme your hands, up ya go, c’mon—“

Oh she’s talking. And grabbing you.

Your hands are warmed by skin and your spine tickles when you’re pulled to your feet like a feather. The pain in your back and shoulders don’t fucking matter anymore. Life works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it?

“Hi, Vi.”

“I’m— hey, uh… do we know each other?”

We love each other actually!

“No— I uh, sorry! I go to watch your matches and all that. Kinda a fan… Sorry if that’s weird—“

“No no no no, not weird at all. Uh, very flattering actually. ‘Preciate it.”

You’re gonna fucking pass out.

“Are you okay though? Nothing hurts, right?” And your knees wobble when a squeezing hand lands on your shoulder, gauging you for pain. No pain. Just deprived. Needy. Desperate. Touch me some more.

“M good.”

“Cool…” Her hand drops and you nearly screech like a banshee, “And your name? Sorry bout t—“

You interrupt with yours and she smiles. Nice to meet you, she says with gravel and your heart grows another heart inside of another heart. Holy fucking you’re boutta

“I like rugby.”

Kill yourself. You’re boutta kill yourself.

Vi’s eyes widened before nodding in agreement, “Yeah… me too. If it wasn’t obvious enough. It’s a great… stress reliever.”

So is sex, according to Sexcopedia.edu. Do me.

“Really? It looks painful sometimes.”

She sighs with tension, “It is. We gotta lot of aggressive people playing against us so we have to always… do more. I guess, I dunno. But whenever I’m mad it’s great. Very useful.”

“Are you mad often?”

“Are you studying psychology?” She pins with an arched, slit brow, but her eyes remain light and friendly. It’s funny, she doesn’t appear to be this approachable with her grunge-ness.

“Nah. I need to, though. Could do me some good.”

Her laugh is hearty. Genuine. “Shit, me too. Help me out.”

“Do you wanna be my friend?”

She seems stunned and you don’t know why. Doesn’t banter create friendship? Whatever. Fuck it. She can say no. You don’t care. You still got her shoe—

“Gimme your phone—”

Your heart drops to the floor, through the concrete, right into the center of the Earth’s crust waiting to burn and cease to exist. She’s got you figured out. You’ve been exposed and she’s gonna fry you in the middle of the damn street

“—I’ll put my number in.”

… Oh.

You meticulously make sure your notis are deleted and OFF before handing her your device with the keypad on display. Her fingers are pretty and nimble. Flexible with how slender they are. Pretty hands. Pretty, blue veins and you're instantly reminded of her ex. You hate the color blue.

She hands your phone back, “That’s me. Hit me up when you get… wherever you’re going. And lemme know if I need to cover your medical expenses for spinal cord surgery.”

You laugh. Really fucking loudly and she flinches, but smiles after. She’s so fucking cute! Is this flirting?

“Y-Yeah, I will.”

Her head tilts fondly, “Cool.”

“Cool.”

She gives you one last look before plugging her earbud in to continue her jog. You check her contact to make sure it’s real and fuck you have her fucking number! Fuck fuck fuck fuck

You leap like the happiest frog in the pond when she’s out of your line of view and a sharp pain whips through your shoulder blades.

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 3mi

lads i just got proposed to. spring wedding in sweden

number collected. so it begins.

kewlio313 • 48s

Christ help us all.

CreamTeam • 10s

Ring pics.

artkiller OP • 3s

cawk ring pics***

CreamTeam • 1s

Should’ve fuckin known. I hate you genuinely

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 30s

when’s a good time to text the girl you’re obsessed with?

[f21] soooo i’m laying in bed lookignat her contact and idk what to do. i’ve fantasized about this so many times and now its in my lap… im so used to shit going wrong that idk how to react to it going right. it’s kinda late but i really wanna talk to her but idk she might be sleep or whatever.

should i scale her building and check if she’s awake? :(

—

Vi doesn’t know why there’s a pit in her stomach. She sits on her teammate’s fluffy rug with a smoked out Sevika who patiently waits for her green light, but it hasn’t come. She feels an oncoming breakdown and she needs a babysitter just in case.

“Finish this for me?” A roach floats in front of Vi’s face before she pushes it away.

“No.”

“Buzzkill.”

Sev and Vi sit in silence for 12 seconds before the roach is stolen and hit by the latter. Sevika snickers. Vi drops her head on the couch and exhales her worries through clouds. Stressed, anxious riddled, maybe not the best headspace to get high but fuck it.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

She shrugs, “Everything.”

“Talk ta me. What’s happening.”

Vi’s face burns when her mind plagues with you. Your giant bifocals and smudged mascara and acrylic-stained hoodies. You had a backpack on… Could be a student here. You might be a freshman. Vi hates making assumptions about strangers but you seemed a little…

Immature? Your eyes were too shiny to be a senior.

“You’re gonna laugh…”

“I’ll always laugh at your stupid ass,” She snickers. “What happened, though, seriously.”

Wafts of smoke curl around her words, “I almost bulldozed a girl earlier.”

Sevika scrabbles to her knees with a slack jaw, “WHAT THE—“

“Oh my fucking god can you be normal for—“

“BITCH BULLDOZED? WHAT THE FUCK FREAKY ASS BITCH—“

“NOT LIKE THAT!” Vi scoffs, “I went on a run and bumped into her! Fucking WEIRDO!”

Sevika slumps back on her ass, clearly disappointed, “… Oh.”

Vi tends to the roach until her fingertips burn, stubbing out the burnt paper on Sevika’s ashtray. When she looks up, she finds a very intrigued looking fox. Here she fucking goes.

“She hot?”

Vi’s sigh is littered with agitation at her friend while she laughs, “I hadta fucking ask! Tell me! She smell good?”

“I don’t fuckin’ remember! We talked for like… 2 minutes!”

“2 is enough time to check her out. Show’a hands, how fat were her tits? Like this?” Sevika mimes holding watermelons that are too goddamn heavy and Vi cringes.

“You fucking disgust me.”

Sevika relaxes back onto her elbows, legs extended in front of her. Her brow quirks when she catches Vi’s gaze drop to her waist, “Meh. You like that about me.”

“Sometimes. Not when I’m in a crisis.”

“Meeting a girl is a crisis now?”

“Yes! I don’t fucking know, she was…”

Honestly, Vi’s unsure how to describe you.

“Does she at least go here! You’re not giving me shit to work with.”

“I DON’T KNOW—“

“DON’T FUCKING YELL AT ME—“

Vi groans with her palms in her eyes, “She just asked to be friends. She told me she watches us play and that she’s—“

“Back the fuck up,” Sevika raises up again, “Do you not see what’s happening here!”

“…”

“You’re actually fucking stupid, wow,” She scoffs, “You know she set all that up, right?”

“… What in the fuck are you talking abou—“

“She ran into you on purpose! She’s a fan bitch!” Sev reaches for her phone on the coffee table, “What’s her Instagram?”

Vi whines, “I don’t know—“

Before Sevika can cuss her out for the 40th time, she bursts, “I GAVE HER MY NUMBER!”

“… Did you get hers?”

“…”

“BROTHER—“

“Shut up! I’m not… I don’t flirt! I don’t know how, not anymore! She caught me off guard honestly.”

“What's her name?”

Vi sheepishly mumbles your title; it’s slimy the way it curls on her tongue. You were so nice and now she’s setting you up to be pestered by her best friend.

It’s silent for 3 minutes, only the pittering of Sevika’s fingers on her device while she hunts for you. Another 4 pass before she tosses her phone in annoyance.

“You sure you weren’t hallucinating? Nothing’s poppin’ up.”

“You’re so annoy—“

WHO THAT IN THE BAAAAAAACK, WHO THAT IN THE BAAAAAAACK

Vi’s phone screen glows gray with an unsaved number across the top… One with their area code… Sevika watches the number scroll like a hawk. The smile that grows on her face is crooked. And knowing.

It’s 11PM. It’s not you. It couldn’t be you.

“That’s your ringtone?” Sevika snorts.

“Shut up.” Why’s she so anxious all of a sudden? Her sweaty palms aren’t enough to stop her from reaching for the device, though.

She answers and puts you on speaker.

“Hello?”

“…Hi. It’s me.”

Sevika’s brow lifts in questioning. Is that her? She mouths and Vi nods. Her eyes roll when her friend whispers, cute voice.

She’ll never say, but Sevika’s presence re-energizes her. Makes her a little more playful, so she teases, “Me who?”

A beat of silence passes before you start mumbling to yourself, “I’m gonna fuckin’ throw up is this the wrong per—“

Sevika’s hand flies over her mouth to smother her laughter while Vi coddles you; laughs that she’s joking and that she was waiting on your call. Her cheeks burn when her teammate throws her an accusatory look.

“Do you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“That you’ve been waiting on me?”

Before Vi can answer, Sev raises up onto her knees and mimes fucking somebody from the back, face slack with faux and exaggerated pleasure. She ignores the sinful jolt in her tummy and flings a throw pillow right at her face.

“Yeah, ‘course I was…”

And then it’s silent again. Her muscles freeze with every deep breath you take over the phone. Sevika waits expectantly, talk to her, she says with flapping fingers.

“Whatcha up to?”

“… Uhh… nothing?”

Your laugh is featherlight, “Are you asking me?”

“Maybe?”

Sevika’s had enough of the tomfoolery. She wiggles over and hits the mute button with a heavy slam. Leans in close while she whispers,

“Dude, she’s tryna fuck—“

“No, she isn’t—“

“Yes she is, dodo, did you hear how she was talkin’?” Her tone heightens in pitch, mocks seduction, “You were waiting on me, baby?—“

“H-Hello?” Your mumble is drenched with insecurity. Sevika doesn’t give a fuck.

“See?” She nearly screams, “She’s DJin’ right now—“

Violet shoves her back before unmuting, “Sorry, m’here…”

“… Was it a bad time to call?” You’re quieter now. Ashamed sounding. Embarrassed.

“Not at all! Sorry, I was smoking earlier, makes me lose my train of thought.”

“It’s okay…”

“You make it home safe?”

“Mhm. I was about to fall asleep but then I remembered to call, so…”

Vi catches her smile before her friend can bully her for it, “So, you called…”

“Yes,” said excitedly. She can hear your smile. Very puppy-like. Cute. Vi jolts when Sev starts snoring obnoxiously fucking loud. She flicks her forehead.

“Is someone there with you?”

Both their eyes widen. A sharp hand raises to slap Sevika, but she flinches before it lands, “Sorry. Just my stupid ass roommate.”

“Hi, Sevika.”

You’re oddly calm…. But why wouldn’t you be? You had no other intent for this phone call other than keeping your promise. They still share a look though; a brief flash of intrigue and skepticism. How’d you know…

It’s not pondered on for long by Sevika before she sings, “Hey, sweetheart.”

You sound like the wind has knocked outta you. “H-Hi.”

Sev singles for Vi to pass the phone over to her. She obliges with a hard stare, “I was just passing through, but while I’m here, I gotta couple… questions. That good with you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You single?”

“Mhm. For forever, sadly.”

“Great. Are we at the same school?”

“Duh. I’m at every match. We’re, uh… graduating together if everything goes as planned.”

So definitely not a freshman. Just when Vi thought it was impossible to finish college without a chip on your shoulder. You seem to have made it through just fine.

Despite Sevika’s reputation of being cold-hearted and abrasive with wicked flirtation skills, she speaks to you like you’ve been in her life for years. Gentle. Inquiring. She lays flat on her stomach with her feet kicked up behind her, “What’s your major?”

“Architectural engineering. What’s yours?”

“You’re so smart. ‘M doing mathematics. You should tutor me when you getta chance.”

“Sure. Just lemme know when. I’m always in the library, so.”

“Well, what a fucking coincidence, so are we! You coulda dropped by and said hello if that was the case.”

“I’m trying to do that now… Am I doin’ okay?”

“Just fine actually. Aren’t you sweet.”

“I taste sweeter.”

Sevika drops the phone on the plush rug beneath them. Sits upright with urgency. Gawks at Vi whose jaw is nearly in her lap. There’s hardly any air in her chest. She squabbles for her phone and ensures that the volume is all the way up. Holds the device right in between them.

“… Swear? I don’t think that’s possible.” Sevika hums at you, holding her roommate’s gaze while her tongue traces over the dryness on her lip.

“You could find out… Both of you can if you wanna.”

“‘S that easy?” Sevika rasps, and Vi flinches when her breath hits her mouth. Leans in a bit closer to feel more on her face.

“Why do you sound like that?” Vi huffs at your genuine curiosity. You’re so fucking cute, fuck.

“Because you’re turning me on, hon,” Her gaze washes over Vi and her skin burns with trails. “Both of us.”

“Oh… cool.” You exhale unsteadily. They can’t help but laugh at you. “Cool?” Vi repeats.

“Yeah. Awesome. I’ve never done that to someone before.”

“You a virgin?”

“Yup.”

“FaceTime us.”

“I have a Samsung.”

Both girls explode into laughter, “We’ll call you, then, Jesus—“ Vi sends an eager finger towards the small camera before you mumble,

“Who says I’ll answer?”

Sevika tuts, “You don’t wanna watch us kiss?”

“I’d rather watch in person.”

Sevika throws Vi a look and she’s instantly reminded of Abby. Usually, that glance — filled with an equal amount of tenderness of filth — is shared between her teammates and she’s forced to endure whatever nonsense they plan to take out on somebody together, but now she’s here. Sevika’s including her in such a sacred ritual. She’s suddenly skittish, “You’re killing me, baby. Whatcha doing this weekend?” Sev quiets, timbre amorous.

“Playing Overwatch.”

“Fuck that shit. Come to Kappa on Saturday. Everybody’s goin’.” Sevika snips down at Violet, and she whines while her fingers dig into her roomie’s tank top. A little closer, and they’re kissing. Just an inch—

“What’s Kappa?”

Vi giggles, “House,” Sevika mumbles against Vi’s mouth, “Frat house. Right off 16th. It's bright blue, can’t miss it.”

“‘K, I’ll go. See ya there.”

“Wh—“

Three dial tones break through the smoke in the air before the screen goes dark, both girls left stunned and… very tempted to track your location. Maybe pop a titty for your RA in exchange for your room number. Wouldn’t be the first time…

… Is that too much?

It could be, but you didn’t hesitate to drop bomb after proposition, and the selfish part of her heart can’t help but think you wouldn’t mind two ravenous strangers at your front door. The knowledge that they’d give you everything you needed would be enough for you to allow them entry.

And the way Sevika’s staring at her… Craving, but careful. She’s so patient.

It’s been such a long time — two years since they’ve had any physical connection. Drunken nights, quickies in the locker room showers— the distractions from grief were all put on the back shelf when Vi got into her relationship. Sevika’s a sleaze, not a homewrecker — most times, so she kept her hands to herself out of respect, no matter how many times Violet would catch her staring where she knew was off limits.

Vi can't get to you, but she can get to Sevika.

So she yanks her close, dissolves the space between them as their mouths collide with heat and a newfound ache for you in the middle. Sevika’s just as rough as she remembers — pushes her down so her back molds to the floor, entangles a cinched hand in her hair to pull and expose her neck to the attacks. She’s got blotches and teeth marks on her throat — the unrestrained and possessive and her stomach flips. She gasps at the ceiling when her nightshirt shreds under a forceful hand.

She hasn’t had the heart to have sex in months — propositions were turned down on dozens of occasions because her mind couldn’t focus on enjoying. Every second of euphoria gets overshadowed by hollow, unforgiving guilt.

You sparked something in her with your forwardness, that curiosity that left her aching to read your mind. Her best friend, too, evidently.

Every movement is fast. She crawls down her torso with intent — fangs sharp where they leave blood down her sternum. Vi’s fingers pry Sevika’s shirt off, her tongue separating from her waist for mere seconds before reattaching. An eager hand fondly moves her friend’s hair out of her face.

You want it? Sevika’s eyes read.

Yes, I want it, please. Vi says aloud. Eager with a twisting hand in her scalp.

Sevika sends waves through Vi with every wrestle her tongue devotes to her clit. She can’t think of anything but Sevika and you and both of you at the same time; on top of her — you sat on her face while Sevika’s fingers drove inside her. She wants her tongue inside you; unrelenting and feverish until you scream and soak her tongue in your sweetness.

Sevika eats like she’s hungry. She eats like she misses having her like this and that wounds Vi up tight; it sends shockwaves down her legs. Makes her twitch, but Sevika forces her still with a tight grip on her waist.

Vi curses with fluttery eyes when a finger — then two, circles around the entrance that aches for a stretching.

They’re heaven sent when they push in. She’s getting fucked like she’s hated and she loves it. She deserves to feel like nothing; her walls are selfish where they encase the digits that bring her to the sun, massage against every sensitive ridge just how she needs. Her mouth spills with whatever energy she has left within her; slurred and drooled fuck yes yeses. She can barely conjure a warning when her core locks tight, right before she explodes.

There’s wetness everywhere while she pulses through her pleasure, thighs squeezing around Sevika’s head with every satisfied moan that vibrates on her clit. Tells Violet to give her more and to take it take it take whatever she gives her like she knows she can.

It’s not until Violet starts sobbing and Sevika’s mouth is dripping wet that she pulls out and separates from her completely. She kisses her pussy gently before shifting to help unlock Violet’s knees. She shivers with every peck that’s trailed up her torso to her chest to her neck.

Sevika laughs when Vi does, choked and clogged, but elated and genuine. It’s been so long since her body’s felt this light.

“You needed that. Ya look better already,” Sevika cackles. “Can you stand?”

“Fuck off, gimme a sec.” Vi shoves playfully at her chest.

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 3s

guys.

i love being a liar. it makes me feel alive never let a bitch tell you lying is wrong it literally makes life so much easier!! wishing everyone a good night.

everything’s going as planned. just one more tally on the board and we’re set

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 20mi

Advice Needed

it’s been 24 hours and my girl who’s not my girl has been texting me nonstop.

[f21] hello. im in a crisis but a good one? if that’s possible. long story short im in love but not dating the girl im in love with yet. i took some of y’all’s flirting advice and i think it worked. im betting my life that yall do witchcraft. i barely said anything to her and now she won’t me😝😝😝 and tbh… i think her friend won’t me too!!!!! she’s always asking about my day and asking if i ate and if id wanna eat with her but i always decline bc im not ready physically mentally like i’m gonna combust the second she walks up to me i barely survived our first interaction…… but her friend invited me to a party tomorrow night…….. wtf do i wear to that i’ve never been outside before LOL

might get a train ran on me…… WE’LL SEE FRIENDS

adding her undies to the shrine🩷 yaaaay

CreamTeam • 14mi

bro is she your girlfriend or not? It’s been years at this point.

artkiller OP • 12mi

yes i mean no or yes :)

kewlio313 • 7mi

Wear something that you wouldn’t wear to your parents funeral. Good luck dear

artkiller OP • 5mi

i would whore out if my family died

kewlio313 • 2mi

Good God.

—

What does genuine happiness feel like?

You’re unsure how long you’ve been on your beanbag, but Violet and Sevika have been laughing since you sat down. They’re so relaxed around each other, content with silence. Accepting of failure.

You’re not a jealous person at all. Far from, actually, but something furies from within whenever you see them — or people, in general, gleeful; the desperation to feel. You haven’t had the privilege. Maybe that’s why you cling to whatever you have with Vi. She has birthed a wanting inside you. A desire for connection after spending decades comforted by the sound of your own voice. Or comments under your posts.

Violet makes you happy. And Sevika might, too. Just as long as she doesn’t get too close to your light.

You’re standing right behind Sevika. She can’t see you, but Vi can. Her fear is swiftly overshadowed by delight. She greets you with a smile that makes your heart throb.

Sevika’s gaze wanders down to your legs, that remain exposed despite the weather,

“You’re not cold?” She asks. Not exactly the introduction you were expecting, but that makes you giddy. Vi must tell her about you!

“Yes,” You say with ease, “Y'all should come to my room. It’s warmer there.”

Vi nods after gawking, 2 books immediately tucked to her chest with her bag on her back. Sevika just laughs. She gets it. You like that.

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 1s

Advice Needed

how do i mentally prepare for sex? (virginity)

literally fucking freezing walking to my room rn with two burly butches that i want to throw me around and i think they’re going to bc they’re not talking to me but the y are very close i don’t want them to see my screen guys im about to have a threesome pls fucking help me

—

“Cute room.” Violet says, inspecting your horror movie posters and stuffed animals.

“Thank you.” You smile.

I hid the 14 polaroids of you that I had taped to my door. Hope that makes you more comfortable!

“It’s just you in here?” Sevika chimes, eyes glued to the small bed up against the wall, right next to your PC setup. You should ask if they game afterwards.

“Yes.”

Violet takes her jacket off and hangs it on your doorknob.

“Already takin’ off your clothes?” You plop down onto your freshly made mattress. Both girls look very stiff in your space; Is that normal? Maybe they’re nervous.

Both girls laugh the same. “Not like that. It is warm in here.” Sevika follows in Vi’s lead, removing her hoodie and her undershirt is squeezing her and yup those arms are still there those muscles are popping out yup yup yup—

“Yeah. I can’t sleep in the cold.” You pat your bedspread for them to sit… and they do. On either side of you. Vi brought her notebook and pencil. Sevika brought her heavily ringed hands.

She scoffs, “Me neither. Immune system is worse than a newborn’s.”

“Do you get sick easily?”

“Yes. I just got over it last week.”

“Damn…”

“Almost got me sick,” Violet pins playfully, skimming through her pages. She erases before rewriting. So so so so smart; too bad both her answers were wrong. You’ll show her the way soon enough.

“Coach would hate me. Her star pupil’s under the weather, what ever shall we do,” Sevika mocks and you both chuckle.

“The season starts next week. Y’all nervous?”

“No—“ “Yes—“

“I’m nervous for games, not practice,” Vi corrects, “I can’t find my fuckin’ shoes.”

“What shoes?”

“My cleats. My sister got ‘em for me a while ago, wear ‘em every match for good luck. I don’t remember where I fucking put them though.”

“Aww, ‘m sorry.”

Sorry for keeping them in my closet.

“S whatever. Just gotta get new ones.”

Small talk is boring as fuck, but it continues between you and Vi. Sevika’s quiet as a mouse; every glance in her direction is met with hooded eyes. She’s very focused on your nightstand drawer. Can she see what’s inside it? You hope so; Maybe your unworn thongs will motivate them to move this along.

“Awww! Wait, you used to play soccer?”

You already know all this. It’s on her fucking Instagram for fucks sake!

“On the junior team when I was like… 10! I was—“

Trash. I kept tripping over the fuckin’ ball—

“—And forgetting to tie my shoes. It was a hot fucking mess!”

Yup. Same as the caption.

The laughter between you finally quiets. You count 12 seconds in your head. You raise a hand to place it on the Hello Kitty bandage directly under her eye.

“What happened here?”

Sevika’s breathing is very calming.

“Got in a fight,” Vi mumbles. Poor things embarrassed! “Got socked in the eye.”

“Sorry,” Your hand rests in your lap, “Did I hurt you?”

“You’re good… still stings though. They gotta good one in.”

“How’d it happen?”

“Don’t remember honestly.”

“Oh okay.”

The conversation ends. Another 12 seconds.

“So… Did you guys fuck after I hung up?”

Sevika smiles and Vi chokes in shock. They’re so different. No wonder they’re so close.

“I— sorry, thought we were studying—“

“Who said we were gonna study?” You stare at Vi quizzingly.

“No one did. We mighta fucked.” Sevika shrugs nonchalantly.

“Oh… was it fun? Whatever it was.”

“Ask her.” She nods in direction of the girl whose face is beet fucking red. How cute!

“Vi… was it fun?”

Her eyes droop to the pencil in her hand before flicking it nervously.

“… I guess.”

“You guess?”

“That’s what I said.”

“… Okay.”

Vi sets her book and pencil on your nightstand before releasing a stuttered sigh.

“Tell me what happened if ya wanna,” Softness wafts off your tongue.

Vi swallows, “I… uh…”

“Mhm?”

“We… I didn’t…”

“I gave her head til she cried.” Sevika whispers right in your ear; tickling against your lobe and you’re suddenly winded. Vi’s legs twist until one crosses over the other.

Gave… Oh…

This isn’t new information. You’re 79% sure Sevika was Vi’s first kiss… or you heard something like that in passing, so why does the sudden confirmation make you wanna hide? Curl into your blankets and shield yourself from both of them?

“Oh… fun.” Your face burns underneath the skin.

“Very.”

“Yup…”

“You’re shy now? After all that?” Sevika almost laughs when your eyes drop to the floor.

“It’s uh, easier to talk when no one’s actually there.”

“We coulda been if you’d answered the fucking phone.”

“… Sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby.”

Sevika’s captain of the team for a reason; a leader by nature and Vi allows her to despite her anticipation. She's much closer now, the respectful distance she kept up upon arrival now completely shut, her shoulder touching yours, nearly straddling your leg.

There’s a light tickle on your thigh; Sevika’s index finger barely grazes the skin exposed beneath the hem of your skirt.

“You’re so stiff,” She whiffs tender against your neck and you choke a noise.

“I’m … ‘mscaredtobreathe—“

“Don’t be scared,” Sevika’s whole hand caresses your knee, eases you into her, all while Vi mouths at your neck. “Here, wanna know a secret?”

You release the air in your lungs, “Sure…”

She’ll never tell, so I will. Your head bobs so encouragingly.

Vi told me something after she showered that night.

With every buttery brustle against your shoulder, Vi’s hands gently attack wherever they can reach; the plush of your hips, on your thighs, grabbing at your tummy over your hoodie that takes up too much fucking space for her liking. You can’t stop squirming with every taut pull at the pit of your stomach.

I was sitting on my bed and she came in, and she smelled so good. I was trying to roll up again, but she took my tray and put it on my dresser…

Roll up? Tray? What what what the fuck is she saying—

And she got on her knees in front of me… and she looked so fucking cute just staring up at me like that, like she’d do anything to make me happy… She’s sweet like that if she’s in the mood.

She said ‘may I practice on you, please?’… And I said okay… So she pulls down my underwear and treats me so well. You wanna know who she was practicing for?

Yes, yes, please—

It was you, baby. She kept telling me how good she wanted to make your first time.

A strained noise chokes from your throat, and Vi smiles against your ear before her lips close around your lobe and it’s too much they’re too much—

Uh huh, and her tongue felt so fucking good on me. Almost impressive… and she loved every second of it.

Please… please, I’m—

Listen to that, Violet, she’s so fucking cute, isn’t she?

So sweet, too. Bet she tastes so fucking good.

She’s so hungry for you, baby, Sevika coos at you, Gonna stop teasing and give us what we want?

You agree obediently — desperately, with every thrumming cell you can use at the moment.

Vi’s benign hand rests on your cheek to turn you towards her before kissing you softly. A gentle peck before she pulls away. It’s overstimulating; Vi kissing and touching you like you’re made of glass while Sevika sucks large bruises on the side of your throat. Your nails dig into the muscular thigh that hardly shakes at your grip in attempts to ground yourself, but they fail because you’re about to faint.

Your sun kisses you deeper, holds your face tighter to keep you where she needs to tongue at your lips. You’re trying to keep up with her, to use the muscle like she uses hers, but you’re falling behind. They don’t seem to mind, satisfied with the fact that they’re gonna devour you regardless.

And when Vi lays you back nice and cozy against your pillows while Sevika kisses all over your face, you know you’re fucked.

—

Sevika and Vi take turns kissing you.

It’s a messy and uncoordinated mess of teeth and saliva, mainly because of you, but you like it. You love it. You hope they do, too. The warmth of their bodies beside you resonates deep in your core. Whenever one of them pulls away, the next is more than open to take her place, over and over. Your thighs are already shaking.

Your hoodies raised up thanks to Vi’s wandering hands, tucked right above your rib cage. Your stomach jolts when a feathery finger teases at the band of your skirt.

“You ticklish?” Vi mutters against your cheek.

“… Nope.”

“Yes—” She swipes the same finger against your exposed skin and you jump with a giggle, “you are. Liar.”

“Fuck you!”

“Yeah… I really, really want to.”

She doesn’t give you time to think of a response; just kisses you one last time before climbing onto her knees. Meanwhile, Sevika’s struggling to get comfortable in your bed. She’s essentially on top of you, both her legs wrapped around one of yours.

“Fucking — small ass mattress! I forgot how much I hate these!”

“S-Sorry! Couldn’t afford anything else — mmh!”

Sevika reconnects your mouths while the bed dips beside you. Then there’s lips on your tummy.

Laughter explodes outta you; Sevika can’t help but laugh into your mouth while Vi nibbles at your pudge. Her grin glows on your skin before her tongue glides on your hip. Her attention stays there; sloppy noises from above and below, your gasps swallowed with every bite Vi gives you.

You hardly register her pulling your skirt down. You’re just colder. And fuzzier in the head. Sevika breaks away to ask,

“How wet is she?”

Huh— oh she’s not talking to you yup yup—

“Come see.”

Sevika rises from position and you’re even colder. When she whistles at the spot on your underwear, your thighs squeeze shut… for 000.3 seconds before she pries them open again.

“Stop I’ll fucking cry—“

“Cry about what? That’s so fucking hot. You’re so cute, baby.”

“Bro I wanna die—“

Sevika rolls her eyes, “Bust one last time at least, damn.”

“Can we make it quick please I’m already on the verge—“

“Of cumming?” Sevika purrs.

“Of suicide—“

Vi’s in hysterics. You shouldn’t be this fucking funny. She watches you and Sevika go back and forth with tears in her eyes.

You bite, “Wonky ass foreplay—“

“I’ll strangle you—“

“I’ll like it—“

Both of you are fucking stupid. Neither of you notice Vi tugging your panties down. She almost starts drooling at the sight of your pussy. Swallows down the lump of saliva before it can drip down her chin. You’re wet and throbbing and pretty and you smell like heaven.

You gasp when two curious fingers separate your sticky lips; strings of slick cling to Vi’s digits. Sevika watches with an insatiable hunger.

“What do you like?” Vi whispers, and you shrug.

“I dunno, I’m new here.”

She rolls her eyes, “I mean what do you do when you touch yourself?

“I don’t do that.”

“Never?” Both girls exclaim.

You shake your head. “I tried once and nothing happened so I just ate spaghetti and went to bed.”

“Were you wet?”

Vi’s forbearing with her inquiries, but still, you’re on the fucking spot and you might start sneezing from anxiety. They’re too patient with you; Maybe you’ve been misreading how they were in bed this entire time. You were expecting them to be knuckles deep in every available hole by now.

You’ve never been so nervous, and for you, that’s saying a lot. “I don’t remember, it was years ago.”

“You’ve never used toys or anything?”

“I… No.”

Sevika stares at Vi, and Vi at Sevika, and you at the wall.

Your thighs twitch when velvet nuzzles at them, Vi’s voice deep as the ocean. “I’m gonna try something, tell me if you like it and I’ll keep going… okay?”

You can’t formulate a response but your head bounces in approval. A finger applies the gentlest of pressure on your clit and you expel a wheeze.

“Okay?” Sevika hums from above you, a hand easing underneath your hoodie to massage your breast.

“Ye-ah—“

“Sit up for me, honey,” She whispers and you obey so she can creep in behind you, your back resting against her chest. Both her hands rub at your chest this time, her fingers massage your nipples while Vi strokes your clit in slow, teasing circles.

“How’s this feel, babe?”

“G— good! Great… h-hooray?” How do pornstars dirty talk so eloquently? You’re literally fucking dying right now. Sevika laughs to herself in your neck and your chest burns.

“Yeah? And this?” She utters right before pressing in, flicking you from side to side and your core squeezes tight. You’re dripping and she watches so closely.

“Oh fuck—“

“There she is, good girl, just feel what she’s givin’ you.” Sevika rasps against your shoulder.

You are feeling and it’s too much for your body to comprehend. Your brain’s never been this focused on one thing. On one feeling, especially one this enjoyable. It’s so good it’s so good you love your fucking girlfriend—

“Tell me when you’re gonna cum?” Vi says against your soft skin

“Uhh…? I— oh god—“

“Getting there, baby? Feel how tight you’re getting? I can see it.”

2 ragged inhales and your eyes roll back and your jaw slacks and your nose tickles oh shit—

“Yeah, yeah, give it to me, c’mon—“

ACHOO!

Your thigh squeezes shut when euphoria overtakes your entire system; thighs clamping shut around Vi’s wrist while she giggles and rubs out your pleasure with ease because she’s stronger than you. Your initial efforts of staying as silent as possible were in vain because you’re squealing your little head off. Sevika rests back on her hands and watches like a hawk while you thrash and clench and leak all over her roommate’s hand.

“Good job. Felt nice, hm?”

You struggle to nod because you’re still cumming so hard and her fingers won’t cease on you. Your thighs stick together with your wetness.

“I’m still eating you out, you know that, right?”

Your whines of approval sound wounded.

You couldn’t see it, but when Vi finally pulled her hand from you, slurping noises swiftly followed, alongside Sevika’s hums of satisfaction.

Mentally preparing for your burial.

—

Vi might be obsessed with you.

She’s back in her original position between your thighs — with Sevika this time because she’s greedy — and fuck she’s never been so antsy to give head. She loves it and she loves getting it even more… at least she thought so. The aliens could come crashing down from the clouds and her first focus would still be getting you to soak her face.

You’re fully undressed now, minus a sock; its twin slipped off some fucking where but she couldn’t give a fuck. She’s so desperate to touch you again. It plagues her mind; stuffed with everything that she’s learned about you thus far. You sneeze before you orgasm for fucks sake that’s the cutest shit ever —

Can I?

She’s asking you and you’re whispering yes, please and fuck you moan so pretty when she first glides her tongue on you. Sevika allows her to ease you into the feeling, but she stays close enough to see every drop of slick that glides on Vi’s tongue. You’re so noisy and she loves that. All she can think about is how loud you’d be with your face in her pillow and your hands behind your back while she —

Vi! Violet! I’m cumming again!

You’re a fucking dream. An insane fucking freaky ass dream.

If anyone were to walk past your room right now, they’d be appalled at the ruckus that permeates through your space; sloppy sucking noises and encouraging praises and dehumanizing name calling that makes you grind your hips faster. You’re nearly riding her fucking face.

Vi wishes she could see you in entirety; memorize every thrust and wriggle you give into her face, drowning her in your scent and juices and everything she could ever want in this moment. You’re exactly what she needed; a pliant distraction. You turn her mind off so easily.

Sevika’s greedy and selfish as she raises one of your legs up with ease. You fall back onto the mattress with your back arched to the skies, a cracked wail squeezing from your lungs when another tongue smushes against your clit. Sevika sucks hard at your clit when Vi’s tongue swirls down to meet your entrance. The eager muscle wastes no time to shove inside and catch whatever bursts from you.

She moves on autopilot; eases one finger past your pulsing heat and your legs start to shake. The digit curls deep inside, plunges into you with vigor and determination to get you there, hits a spot that almost lands her a kick in the back of her head, but she catches you; curls an arm around your thigh to keep you still.

And the night — or afternoon or morning, none of you remember, continues like that until you’re drained completely dry and your body contracts from memory.

Hours pass when Sevika and Vi finally start tonguing each other down for your viewing pleasure, and it starts all over again.

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 1s

2 butches are sleeping next to me rn…

never let a hoe tell you to stop following your dreams. i’ve been following mine for almost 3 years and now they’re sleep next to me….

#HAPPYPRIDE

#vi smut #vi arcane #vi fanfic #vi league of legends #sevika #sevika smut #sevika arcane #sevika x you #vi x you #lesbian #rugbyplayer!vi #works 𖧧࣪#arcane smut #arcane

1K notes · View notes

dxnheng · 6 days ago

Text

get him back!

summary: years after your messy breakup that broke up the band, you and mydei are forced back together for a reunion tour—and the public can’t get enough of your chemistry. on stage, you’re electric, but backstage it’s all snide comments, heated arguments, and mydei slipping in petty lyric changes just to piss you off. you’re not sure what’s worse: how much you still hate him or how much you don’t.

⇢ pairing: lead guitarist!mydei x lead singer!fem!reader ⇢ contains: romance, angst, smut (oral sex, hate sex, angry sex, unprotected sex, wall sex, overstimulation, slight dirty talk), exes to lovers au, modern au, band au, profanity, alcohol consumption, slight toxicity from both parties, smoking, an amphoreus ensemble cast—please let me know if i’ve missed anything! ⇢ word count: 16.7k ⇢ note: inspired by the honkai star rail official mydei art, olivia rodrigo’s get him back! & daisy jones and the six by taylor jenkins reid. read on ao3 here.

i). wait, is this the song with the drums?

Your first instinct, when Anaxa drops the news about the reunion tour, is to shake your head and vehemently say no.

“Absolutely not,” you say, holding up a hand like that might somehow physically block the idea from reaching you. Anaxa simply raises an eyebrow and adjusts his glasses.

“It’s not a request,” he replies, flipping through the stack of papers he brought with him. “It’s happening whether you’re on board or not. Your contract’s airtight.”

“That’s impossible,” you scoff, folding your arms defensively. “I specifically remember agreeing to no future projects involving him.”

“Yeah, well, when you’re in a band that makes millions, the label doesn’t exactly care about your personal vendettas. Fans have been begging for this for years. You know how much money this is going to make?”

“I can’t do this, Anaxa. You know what he’s like. He’s gonna make this a living hell for me.”

Your manager’s eyes soften just enough to make you look away. “Look, I know it’s not ideal. But it’s just a tour. A few months, and then you never have to see his face again if you don’t want to.”

You hesitate, teeth worrying your bottom lip. Anxiety coils inside your stomach like a live wire. You’d thought you’d buried that part of your life—left it to rot somewhere in the wreckage of what used to be your band and your relationship. Mydei’s name still leaves a bitter aftertaste whenever it slips out of someone’s mouth.

But the label wants it. The fans want it.

“So, what—you just expect me to pretend we didn’t break up in front of the entire world?” you snap, though there’s less fire behind it this time.

Anaxa shrugs and sets the contract on your coffee table. “Pretend, don’t pretend. Hell, make it part of the show for all I care. As long as you’re both on that stage together, the crowd’s going to eat it up.”

You hate how practical he sounds. How it almost makes sense. You glance at the contract, at the neat, tidy letters spelling out your own name and Mydei’s right next to each other, and feel something bitter curl up in your chest.

“I’m gonna kill him,” you mutter.

Anaxa pats your shoulder as he heads for the door. “Try not to do it on stage. Though that might actually sell more tickets.”

You flip him off without looking, and Anaxa just laughs on his way out. The contract sits there on the coffee table, and no matter what you do, you can’t seem to look away. Your eyes blur over the words, and all you can think about is him.

Mydei.

You’ve spent months forcing yourself not to say his name out loud, not to think about his legs tangled with yours in bed or the rasp of his voice in your ear when he couldn’t keep his hands to himself before a show. You don’t let yourself think about the songs you wrote together. You definitely don’t think about the way it all fell apart. It was easier when you could pretend that part of your life was over—when you didn’t have to picture his face or hear his voice in your head, mocking you with every love song you swore you’d never sing again.

With a resigned sigh, you grab the pen Anaxa had placed next to the contract papers and flip to the last page. Your signature comes out a little shaky, but it’s done. You let the pen drop onto the table and lean back against the cushions.

The rehearsal studio feels too small. It’s ironic, really—after spending years crammed into dingy vans and shitty motel rooms together, you’d think it wouldn’t bother you. You’re the first person there (Anaxa had threatened to personally drag you out of your apartment if you didn’t show up on time), and because you don’t know what else to do, you set about adjusting your mic stand.

It’s stupid. You know it’s already set to your height, but it gives your hands something to do. The room is way too quiet, the walls lined with soundproofing and a few faded posters from when your band—the Chrysos Heirs—was at its peak. There’s a familiar, musty smell—stale air and old fabric—and it makes your chest ache just a little.

Without really thinking about it, you start humming one of the old songs—one that never made it to an album, just something you and Mydei had messed around with one night in the back of a bus. The melody flows out of you like muscle memory, soft and a little shaky at first, but gaining strength as you let the lyrics slip past your lips.

“Kiss me once and call me baby,Lie to me and say I’m crazy—Can’t believe I let you take me—”

The door swings open mid-verse, and you stop singing so fast it almost gives you whiplash.

Mydei steps inside, and for a second, you can’t move. It’s like being punched in the gut—seeing him again after all this time. He looks almost the same, and that’s what pisses you off the most. The same messy hair, the same worn leather jacket hanging off his shoulders, that same stupid, self-assured expression. The only real difference is the hint of stubble lining his jaw, like he didn’t bother shaving before showing up. Typical.

He stops just inside the door, guitar case slung over his shoulder, and his eyes lock onto yours. His expression doesn’t give away much—just a calm, uninterested look, like he couldn’t give a shit about being here. Your stomach twists, anger simmering just under your skin. You’d spent months convincing yourself that you’d moved on, that he didn’t matter anymore, but seeing him here, right in front of you, makes all that effort feel pointless. You hate that he still looks good.

He doesn’t say anything, just drags his gaze over you like he’s sizing you up. You force yourself not to react, keeping your expression as neutral as possible, even though your hands are shaking where they grip the mic stand. You can’t let him know how much this is messing with you. You refuse to give him the satisfaction.

Mydei glances at the mic stand, then back at you, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—annoyance, maybe, or just plain indifference. You don’t know which is worse. You half expect him to make some smartass comment about your singing earlier, but he doesn’t say a word. Just sets his guitar case down on one of the couches and starts unzipping it, still not acknowledging you.

The way he’s ignoring you grates on your nerves. You’re tempted to snap at him just to get some kind of reaction. But you know how that game goes—how he’s always been good at pushing your buttons and making you the one who loses their cool first. You’re not giving him the satisfaction today.

You busy yourself with the mic stand again, even though there’s nothing to fix. It’s something to do with your hands, at least. The air feels thick, and your chest feels tight, and you can’t stop your mind from wandering back to late-night songwriting sessions and whispered promises that ended up meaning nothing. You wonder if he thinks about those nights too—or if he’s just moved on completely while you’re still stuck in the aftermath.

The door swings open again, and Castorice and Hyacine walk in, chatting and laughing about something. They both pause when they see you and Mydei, exchanging a quick look before stepping inside.

“Hi,” Castorice greets, adjusting the hem of her faded purple band t-shirt. “Everything okay here?”

You force a smile that probably looks more like a grimace. “Yeah. All good.”

Hyacine gives you a small smile, her pigtails swinging, and starts setting up her bass. Castorice nudges Mydei with her elbow as she passes by, but he just shrugs her off and keeps tuning his guitar. She rolls her eyes and grabs her drumsticks.

You can’t help but glare at him, half-hoping he’ll look up so you can throw something snarky his way. Maybe if he’d just stop pretending like you’re invisible, you wouldn’t feel like your chest is caving in. You’re caught between wanting to scream at him and wanting to leave before your hands start shaking too hard to hide.

Phainon slips in a few minutes later, his snowy hair wind-ruffled and his jeans ripped at the knees. “Already at each other’s throats, huh?” he mutters, mostly to himself, but you hear it.

“Nah,” you bite out. “No one’s dead yet.”

Phainon chuckles and unslings his guitar case. It’s forced, yes, and you know he’s just trying to lighten the mood. It doesn’t help much. Mydei doesn’t even acknowledge the comment; he just keeps strumming a few notes like he’s deliberately tuning you out. You look away.

[CUT TO BLACK SCREEN] Text appears on screen: “Chrysos Heirs: The Reunion Tour – Behind the Music. Episode One.”

[INT. STUDIO – DOCUMENTARY INTERVIEW SETUP]Soft lighting. Castorice sits on a stool, tapping her drumsticks against her knee absentmindedly. She grins when she notices the camera.

CASTORICE: The first practice? Oh, man. That was a nightmare. I mean, I know it was gonna be awkward, but—wow. I half expected the room to just spontaneously combust. (Laughs) They didn’t even look at each other for the first half hour. I thought I’d have to throw a cymbal at someone just to break the ice.

[CUT TO: HYACINE, sitting cross-legged on the floor, her bass leaning against her shoulder.]

HYACINE: Honestly, I wasn’t sure if they’d even show up. _____ got there first, and Mydei came just before me and Cas showed up. When we walked in… (Sighs) It was like stepping into a freezer. I kept looking at Castorice like, Are we really doing this?

[CUT TO: PHAINON, leaning against the wall with his guitar propped up next to him.]

PHAINON: You could cut the tension with a knife. I was just waiting for one of them to snap, honestly. ____ was messing with the mic stand like it owed her money, and Mydei—(snorts) he just acted like he didn’t give a shit. Everyone knows he does, though. I could see his hands shaking a little while he was tuning his guitar.

[CUT TO: MYDEI, slouched on the couch, arms crossed.]

MYDEI: First practice? Whatever. I showed up, didn’t I? (Shrugs) _____ was already there, singing something I wrote. I didn’t say anything. Didn’t feel like arguing. Didn’t feel like… dealing with that. (Pauses) We got through it. That’s what matters.

[CUT TO: YOU, sitting on a folding chair, arms crossed, eyes fixed somewhere off camera.]

YOU: I didn’t think he’d actually come. And when he did… (shakes head) I was just angry. At him, at myself. At the fact that he didn’t even look at me. We used to be… I don’t know. Better than that. He didn’t say anything to me, and I wasn’t gonna be the one to break first. We both have too much pride.

[CUT TO: CASTORICE AGAIN, twirling a drumstick between her fingers.]

CASTORICE: Eventually, I just started playing something random to break the silence. That usually worked back then—get the rhythm going, and the rest will follow. I guess some things never change, because once I started up, Phainon joined in, and Hyacine just kinda jumped in too. ____ and Mydei just stared at each other like it was some kind of weird staring contest.

[CUT TO: HYACINE AGAIN, laughing softly.]

HYACINE: I thought one of them was gonna strangle the other before we even got to the chorus. But after a few minutes of us just messing around with the intro, _____ gave in and started singing. Mydei followed—stubborn asshole—but it actually sounded good. Like, almost better than I remembered.

[CUT TO: PHAINON AGAIN, smiling with his eyes crinkled at the corners.]

PHAINON: It was a mess. A beautiful mess. That’s just how it is with us. Always on the edge of imploding but somehow making it work. They didn’t say a word to each other the whole practice, but the music spoke for them. It’s weird how that works, huh?

[CUT TO: MYDEI, still looking annoyed, but his jaw clenches a little.]

MYDEI: We got through the set. It wasn’t… terrible. (Pauses) She still sings like she’s got something to prove. Never really lost that passion. I guess that’s one thing that hasn’t changed.

[CUT TO: YOU, looking almost hesitant.]

YOU: The music was the only thing that didn’t feel different. That’s the worst part. We still fit together on stage. I don’t know how to feel about that.

ii). he had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye.

The venue is packed, lights flashing in time with the beats of the opening song. Castorice is good. That hasn’t changed, not even a little. The heat of the stage lights is already making sweat prickle at the back of your neck, but you force yourself to ignore it, keeping your eyes fixed on the dark mass of people in front of you. You can barely make out individual faces past the glare, but it doesn’t matter—they’re all screaming, hands in the air, chanting your band’s name like a war cry.

To your left, Hyacine’s fingers fly over the bass strings, head bobbing in time with the rhythm. Her eyes are focused and sharp, lips curved into a smile. Next to her, Phainon strums his guitar, sweat dripping down his temples. He’s got that manic grin on his face, the one that always surfaces when he’s deep in the music.

You’re trying to focus—keep your voice steady, keep your hands from shaking—but it’s hard when you know he’s right behind you, adjusting his guitar strap and dragging his pick over the strings just loud enough to be a distraction. You swear he’s doing it on purpose, plucking random notes like he’s got nothing better to do, just to see if he can make you crack.

You refuse to look back at him. Instead, you take a slow breath and lean into the mic, eyes half-lidded and voice low as you speak to the crowd.

“Hey, everyone,” you drawl, and the noise swells, cheers and screams merging into a single deafening roar. You give them a crooked smile. “Feels good to be back. Did you guys miss us?”

The crowd roars. You can feel it—the way they’ve been waiting for this, for you. You ignore the way it makes your throat close up a little, focusing instead on the setlist displayed on the prompter. The opening song is one of your older hits, the kind of thing that used to play on the radio at least once a day back when it was first released. You’ve sung it a thousand times before, but tonight, it feels different. He’s right there, and you hate how you can feel his presence without even looking.

The drums kick in, pounding through your ribs, and you throw yourself into the first verse.

“Bite your tongue ‘til it bleeds, Hide the bruises on your knees, Say you never cared— I know you’re lying through your teeth.”

Your voice is steady, loud enough to carry over the instruments as the crowd sings with you. You almost lose yourself in it. The light pulses red and white, casting shadows across the stage, and you grip the mic stand tighter, putting every ounce of frustration into your performance.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Mydei move closer to his mic, his guitar slung low and his fingers dancing over the strings. You force yourself not to look at him, focusing on the rhythm instead, on keeping your breathing even as the verse transitions into the chorus.

“Bittersweet vendetta, Carved your name into my skin, Kiss me like a secret. Make me wish I’d never let you in.”

You push your voice harder, practically shouting the last line, and the crowd’s response is instantaneous—voices rising to meet yours, some of them screaming loud enough to rival the speakers. You finally risk a glance to your right, just in time to see Mydei’s lips curve into a smirk, his head tilted like he’s daring you to acknowledge him.

He leans into the mic, and his voice slices through the air.

“She lies like she means it, Fake love on her lips—”

You clench your jaw so hard it aches, but you don’t miss your next cue, even though your mind is reeling. That’s not the original line. He’s never changed it before—not in all the years you performed this song together. You shove down the surge of anger, forcing yourself to keep going as if nothing happened.

The audience reacts immediately—some laughing, some whooping. You know they heard it. You know he did it just to get a rise out of you. You hate that it’s working, that your pulse is thrumming in your ears and your hands are shaking even as you keep your expression blank.

You don’t look at him. Instead, you pour every ounce of your irritation into the next verse, voice dropping low and venomous.

“Cut me down with your clever words, Always knew how to make it hurt, Fake your way to heaven, But I’d follow you through hell first.”

You swear you hear Mydei laugh under his breath, but he keeps playing like nothing’s wrong, his fingers moving over the strings like second nature. Your stomach twists, and you can’t tell if it’s fury or something uglier—something that feels like regret buried under years of resentment.

The bridge comes crashing in, and you give it everything you’ve got. Your voice is raw and unrestrained.

“Swore I’d never write about you, Guess I lied again somehow, Made my bed on broken promises, Tell me—are you happy now?”

The crowd’s roar almost drowns you out, but you don’t let up, spitting out the words like they’re poison on your tongue. You’re breathless by the time the final chorus hits, and the last line comes out almost like a snarl.

When the song ends, the audience erupts, and you finally allow yourself a moment to breathe, wiping sweat from your forehead with your palm. Your ears are ringing, but you catch a glimpse of Mydei as he steps back from his mic, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He doesn’t look at you. Nor does he seem to particularly care that he just tore through one of your most iconic songs with a cheap, unnecessary jab.

You force a smile and wave to the crowd.

The moment the stage lights cut out and the cheers of the crowd fade behind the heavy backstage door, you’re off. You don’t bother thanking the crew or even stopping to catch your breath—you just march straight to the green room, hands still trembling from the adrenaline and the anger. Your heart’s pounding so loud in your ears that you barely hear the door swing open behind you.

You whirl around just as Mydei walks in, still wiping sweat off his face with the hem of his shirt. The sight of him—smirking like he didn’t just pull that shit on stage—makes your stomach twist with rage.

“What the fuck was that?” Your voice comes out harsher than you intended, but you don’t care.

Mydei just raises an eyebrow, like he’s confused about why you’re yelling. “What was what?”

“Don’t play fucking dumb,” you snap. “You changed the fucking lyrics. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

He just shrugs and tosses his towel onto one of the chairs. “Oh, that. Yeah, I thought it sounded better. More honest.”

You take a step closer, jabbing a finger at him. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to just rewrite shit on stage without telling anyone. We practiced that song a hundred times, Mydei. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You’re really gonna get this worked up over one line?” He scoffs, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “Come on, it’s not that deep.”

“Not that deep?” You laugh, but it’s humourless and cold. “You made it sound like I’m some kind of manipulative bitch in front of thousands of people! How the hell am I supposed to not get worked up about that?”

“Maybe if it wasn’t true, it wouldn’t bother you so much,” he says, leaning back against the wall.

Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

Mydei shrugs again, his voice low and taunting. “You always were good at faking it—feelings, sincerity, the whole tragic frontwoman act. Sorry if I just cut through the bullshit.”

Something snaps inside you, and before you even realise it, you shove him backwards with both hands. Mydei doesn’t stumble, but his smirk falls for just a second—just enough to make you feel a flicker of satisfaction.

“Fuck you,” you spit out. “You don’t know a single thing about me.”

His face hardens, and he pushes off the wall to get right back into your space. “Don’t I? I know you lie like it’s second nature. You get off on being the victim, pretending like you’re the one who got hurt. But we both know you’re just as guilty as I am.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.” You’re breathing hard now, fists clenched at your sides to keep from swinging at him. “You’re the one who decided to leave the band first. I’m not the one who bailed.”

“Yeah, because sticking around and watching you sabotage everything we built together sounded like a blast. You’re impossible to deal with. Always have been.”

“You think I’m impossible? You’re the one who picks a fight every chance you get. It’s like you can’t stand if I’m not miserable,” you shoot back. “Newsflash, Mydei—not everything’s about you and your bruised ego.”

“Says the girl who can’t stand it when someone calls her out,” he says, lips curling into a mocking grin. “Maybe I hit a nerve because you know I’m right. You’re so used to being adored that the second someone questions you, you lose your shit.”

You shove him again, harder this time, and he doesn’t move—just stays rooted to the spot, glaring down at you. “God, I hate you,” you seethe, voice cracking despite yourself.

“Funny. Didn’t sound like hate the last time you were screaming my name.”

You freeze, heat rushing to your face, and the anger bubbles into something darker—something desperate and bitter. “You think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you? Always gotta have the last word, always gotta prove something. You’re pathetic.”

“You’re one to talk,” he grits out. “Still hung up on shit that happened years ago. I’m pathetic? You’re the one still singing about heartbreak like it’s gonna make people feel sorry for you.”

You want to hit him. You want to scream at him until your voice breaks. Instead, you shove him again, and this time he catches your wrists, yanking you forward until your chest brushes his. His face is inches from yours, breath hot against your cheek.

“Admit it,” Mydei murmurs, low. “You’re pissed because I called you out, and now you can’t hide behind your lyrics like a coward.”

You wrench your hands free, but you don’t move back. You’re too close, breathing hard. “You’re such a fucking asshole,” you whisper, voice tight.

His eyes bore into yours. “And you’re a goddamn liar.”

Before either of you can say anything else, Hyacine pushes the door open with a scowl. She takes one look at the two of you and shakes her head. “Seriously? Already? I knew this tour would be a shitshow, but I didn’t think you’d try to kill each other on night one.”

You finally rip yourself away from him, swiping at your face like you’re trying to scrub the confrontation off your skin. Mydei doesn’t look at you. He just picks up his towel and wipes his hands.

Castorice slips in behind Hyacine, still buzzing from the performance. “Kephale, you two are like feral cats. Can’t we just chill for five seconds?”

“We’ve got interviews in ten minutes,” Phainon pipes up from behind her. “You guys need to get your shit together.”

Hyacine levels both of you with a glare. “I don’t care what personal shit you’ve got going on, but don’t pull that crap on stage again. Mydei, you don’t change the lyrics without telling us. _____, stop feeding into his bullshit. You’re both being idiots.”

Neither of you says anything, but you’re still seething, trying to force down the bitter ache in your chest. Mydei rolls his shoulders and turns away, his shaggy hair falling down the nape of his neck. When you finally turn and leave the room, you can still feel his eyes on your back, and it makes your skin crawl. You tell yourself you’re just glad to be away from him, but the knot in your stomach says otherwise.

[CUT TO BLACK SCREEN] Text appears on screen: “Opening Night – Sold Out.”

[INT. STUDIO – DOCUMENTARY INTERVIEW SETUP]

[CUT TO: CASTORICE, her expression thoughtful.]

CASTORICE: Okay, look, I’m not gonna go around pinning the blame on anyone. That doesn’t do anyone any good. (Shifts slightly) I just think that we’re all adults here, and what Mydei and _____ were doing didn’t do us any favours.

[CUT TO: HYACINE, scowling at the camera.]

HYACINE: They’re pretty f***ing immature, if you ask me. Sometimes I think Mydei and _____ forget that they’re not the only people in the band. They founded it, sure, but what about me, Cas, and Phainon? This isn’t just some petty high school-level battle of the bands shit. This is our f***ing careers we’re talking about.

[CUT TO: PHAINON, leaning back with a cigarette rolling between his fingers.]

PHAINON: Yeah, it’s real inspiring when your frontmen are trying to rip each other’s heads off backstage. Real rock and roll. (Scoffs) Look, they’re both stubborn as hell, and it’s not like we didn’t see it coming. You put two people with that much history on the same stage, and it’s like throwing a match into gasoline.

[CUT TO: MYDEI, arms spread out on the back of the couch.]

MYDEI: It’s not my fault she can’t handle the truth. We’re supposed to be putting on a show, aren’t we? Guess what—drama’s a part of it. If she wants to get pissed because I added a little honesty to the setlist, that’s on her. (Shrugs) I’m not gonna apologise for making it real.

[CUT TO: YOU, visibly tense, gripping the edge of your seat.]

YOU: He didn’t change the lyrics because it was real. He did it to hurt me. There’s a difference. It’s not about the fans, or the show, or whatever bullshit excuse he’s telling himself. It’s about control. He just couldn’t stand the fact that I was getting through it without him, that I was… fine. (Pauses) Or at least trying to be.

[CUT TO: CASTORICE AGAIN, rubbing the back of her neck.]

CASTORICE: (Sighs) You’d think that after all these years, they’d have learned how to work together without turning it into a battlefield. We’re not in high school anymore. We’re on tour. If one of them messes up, it’s not just their mess to clean up—it’s all of ours.

[CUT TO: HYACINE AGAIN, looking more annoyed than before.]

HYACINE: It’s exhausting. We’re just trying to make music, not mediate whatever unresolved shit they’ve got going on. Half the time, I feel like I’m babysitting. They either need to figure it out or shut the hell up and be professional for once.

[CUT TO: PHAINON AGAIN, giving a resigned laugh.]

PHAINON: Honestly, if they’d just screw and get it over with, we might finally get some peace around here.

[CUT TO: MYDEI, AGAIN]

MYDEI: Phainon said that? Not a chance. I’d rather set my guitar on fire.

[CUT TO: YOU AGAIN, rolling your eyes.]

YOU: Yeah, well, might be the most impressive thing Mydei’s done in a while.

iii). do i love him? do i hate him? i guess it’s up and down.

[CUT TO BLACK SCREEN] Text appears on screen: “The Founders’ Cut.”

[INT. STUDIO – DOCUMENTARY INTERVIEW SETUP]

[CUT TO: YOU, sitting upright with your arms crossed.]

INTERVIEWER (off-camera): Can you tell us about the band’s early days? How did the Chrysos Heirs come together?

YOU: God, that feels like forever ago. (Pauses) It was just me and Mydei at first. We were… just kids, really. We’d meet up after school in my dad’s garage—him on guitar, me scribbling down lyrics on whatever scraps of paper we could find. It wasn’t anything serious back then. We just wanted to make noise and piss off the neighbours.

INTERVIEWER: Did you always know it was going to be a band?

YOU: (Shakes head) Not at all. We didn’t plan for it to be anything more than a way to kill time. We’d play until our fingers ached or Dad came out yelling at us to cut it out. (Smiles a little) It was messy and loud and—fun. We didn’t think much past that.

INTERVIEWER: When did it start to feel like more than just noise?

YOU: When Castorice came into the picture. She was incredible. She had this way of making everything tighter, more precise. Like she just knew what needed to happen to make the sound click. Mydei knew her from some music workshop thing—said she was the only drummer he’d met who wasn’t full of shit. (Laughs softly) One day, she just showed up with this beat-up drum set and told us our timing was crap. And she was right.

INTERVIEWER: What was your reaction to her criticism?

YOU: Oh, I was pissed. I didn’t want some stranger telling us we were doing it wrong. But she wasn’t mean about it—just honest, I suppose. And once she started playing, we couldn’t really argue with her. She made us sound like an actual band.

INTERVIEWER: And Hyacine and Phainon? How did they join?

YOU: They came later. We’d been playing these tiny, shitty bar shows—barely getting paid, just trying to scrape together enough for gas and food. It was clear we needed a bassist. Castorice was the one who pushed for it. She said we sounded hollow without that low end. She knew Hyacine from some other band that had just imploded—some drama I never got the full story on. Hyacine came in and just took over. She was relentless, always pushing for perfection. It drove me and Mydei crazy at first, but she made us sound good. Really good.

INTERVIEWER: And Phainon?

YOU: (Smiles fondly) Phainon was a surprise. Mydei found him at some underground gig—he was up there shredding like it was the easiest thing in the world. Mydei practically dragged him to rehearsal the next day, and Phainon barely said a word. He just picked up his guitar and played like he’d been with us the whole time. We didn’t even have to teach him the songs—he just… knew. It was weird, but it worked.

INTERVIEWER: What was it like performing together back then?

YOU: Incredible. We weren’t perfect by any means—we’d f**k up chord changes and stumble over lyrics, but people didn’t care. There was this energy that made up for it. The crowd felt it too. We’d get off stage, drenched in sweat, hearts pounding, and just laugh about how much we almost screwed up. Those shows were something else.

INTERVIEWER: And what about you and Mydei? You two were already together by then?

YOU: (Pauses, glancing away) Yeah. It just happened. It wasn’t really something we talked about—it just made sense at the time. We were always around each other anyway.

INTERVIEWER: What changed?

YOU: (Exhales slowly) Success changed things. Suddenly we were everywhere—touring, interviews, non-stop shows. We didn’t have time to breathe, let alone talk about anything that mattered. It was just… go, go, go. And when things got tough, we didn’t know how to handle it. We didn’t talk. We just fought. About stupid shit—lyrics, setlists, tempos. It wasn’t about the band anymore. It was about us, trying to hurt each other without admitting that’s what we were doing.

[CUT TO: MYDEI, leaning back in his chair with one arm thrown across the back of it.]

INTERVIEWER (off-camera): Can you talk about why you left the band?

MYDEI: (Exhales, looks away for a moment) It wasn’t… one thing, you know? People always want it to be simple, like there’s one big reason I just up and left. But it wasn’t. There was just—too much shit piling up. Tension between all of us, pressure from the label, and I wasn’t in the right headspace to deal with it.

INTERVIEWER: Do you regret it?

MYDEI: Sometimes. Maybe. I didn’t really think about what it would do to the others at the time. I needed to figure out who I was without the band. It was selfish, I know, but I couldn’t keep pretending I was okay with how things were going.

INTERVIEWER: Were you unhappy with the band itself, or just the dynamics between the members?

MYDEI: Both, I guess. The band was everything to me at one point. It was the one thing I thought I could count on. But then it just got… complicated. We went from just being a bunch of idiots messing around to something huge, and I wasn’t ready for that kind of pressure. The music stopped feeling like ours—like mine. It was just what everyone else wanted from us.

INTERVIEWER: How did the others react when you told them you were leaving?

MYDEI: (Chuckles bitterly) Not well. Castorice tried to talk me out of it—said I was being impulsive and throwing away something we’d built from the ground up. Hyacine was pissed. She didn’t say much, but I could tell she was angry. Phainon didn’t say anything at all. Just kind of… stared at me like I’d betrayed him or something.

INTERVIEWER: And _____?

MYDEI: (Stiffens) She didn’t take it well. She said I was running away—like I always did. We fought about it for hours. Nothing we said made sense by the end of it. Just yelling for the sake of yelling. I think we both knew it wasn’t just about the band at that point.

INTERVIEWER: After you left, the Chrysos Heirs seemed to almost dissolve overnight. Can you talk about that?

MYDEI: (Breathes out slowly) Yeah, I heard about it a few months later. It wasn’t something I expected. I thought they’d keep going without me, honestly. I didn’t think I was that important. (Pauses) Turns out, though, that me leaving kind of pulled the rug out from under everything.

INTERVIEWER: Did the others ever talk to you about it?

MYDEI: Castorice called me once. She didn’t say much, just that they’d decided to take a break, and that without me there, it wasn’t working. She didn’t blame me, exactly, but I could hear it in her voice. Like she was trying not to say that I’d screwed everything up. (Shakes his head) Phainon never reached out. I don’t know if he was angry or just—disappointed. Hyacine texted me some stuff, mostly updates, but nothing about how they felt about it.

INTERVIEWER: What about _____?

MYDEI: (Tenses visibly) We never spoke to each other after I left.

INTERVIEWER: Do you think that the band dissolving hurt her the most?

MYDEI: Yeah. I know it did. The band was everything to her—more than it was to any of us, I think. She was always the one pushing us to go further, to make better music, to keep going even when it was hard. So when it all fell apart… I know she took it personally. Like she failed or something. Especially when I saw her trying to do solo stuff after that.

INTERVIEWER: Did you listen to her solo work?

MYDEI: (Nods) Every track. It was good—different, but good.

The studio lights beat down on you like a relentless sun, and you resist the urge to wipe at the thin sheen of sweat forming at your hairline. You force yourself to smile through it, shoulders squared and posture just right, even as your muscles ache from holding the same position for too long. Castorice mutters under her breath about how awkward it feels to act casual when there’s a giant lens pointed right at your face; you can’t help but agree. It’s been ages since the last group photoshoot, and the discomfort is hard to ignore.

Mydei stands at the far end, stiff and distant, hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket. He’s staring at some fixed point behind the photographer’s head, looking like he’s seconds away from bolting. It drives you insane how obvious he’s being about not wanting to be here. You catch his eye once, and the look he gives you is so blank, it’s almost insulting.

Castorice throws an arm across Phainon’s shoulders, and the two lean into each other. Hyacine sits cross-legged in front of you, holding up two peace signs and grinning widely.

“All right, good! That’s enough for the group shots,” Aglaea, the director of photography, calls out, clapping her hands together. “Everyone but Mydei and _____, take five. I want a few duo shots.”

You stiffen. Castorice glances between the two of you with something close to worry, but when you shoot her a tight smile, she just shrugs and heads off with Hyacine and Phainon in tow.

Mydei hasn’t moved an inch, his hands still stuffed into his pockets, jaw tight. You take a slow breath and will yourself not to let him get under your skin. Not again.

Aglaea gestures you both forward, clearly sensing the awkwardness but too professional to comment on it. “All right, you two. Let’s lean into the chemistry a bit. I want intimate and raw—like the world’s finally looking at you both behind the professional masks.”

Your lips press into a thin line. Mydei doesn’t react at all.

“Face each other,” Aglaea instructs, waving a hand to adjust the lighting. It catches on the bright gold of her blouse, and you blink a little. “Mydei, hands on her waist. _____, put your hands on his shoulders. Closer. I need to feel the tension. Like you’re caught between fighting and kissing.”

You almost laugh at the irony. That’s practically all you’ve done since he showed up again—hovering somewhere between wanting to scream at him and wanting to grab his face and never let go. The thought burns. You squash it as you step forward.

Mydei’s hands settle on your waist, and it’s as if electricity crackles through you, setting every nerve alight. His touch is hesitant, like he’s not sure he has the right to be this close anymore. Your hands come up to his shoulders, fingers brushing over familiar leather and muscle, and you force yourself to look up at him.

His eyes catch yours. Neither of you moves. He looks at you like he’s seeing something he thought he’d lost, and it makes your heart twist painfully.

“Closer,” Aglaea calls out, voice clipped. “Mydei, lean in like you’re about to say something you’ve been holding back for years. _____, tilt your chin up—give him that look, like you’re angry but imploring.”

You do as she says, your breath hitching when his forehead dips to rest against yours. Your fingers tighten against his shoulders, and his hands shift on your waist, thumbs brushing over the fabric of your shirt like he’s trying to memorise the feel of it. Those strands of hair that he always braids because he claimed it made him look “edgy” brushes against the curve of your cheek. You can feel his breath fan across your face, warm and familiar, and it hurts how natural it feels.

When you look to the side, Aglaea is frowning. “Closer,” she says again. “I need to see that longing.”

You don’t bother hiding your scoff, muttering under your breath, “Maybe it’d be easier if he didn’t look like he’d rather be doing literally anything else.”

His eyes snap to yours, defensive. “Sorry I’m not putting on enough of a show for you,” he mutters back, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Maybe if you actually gave a damn, it wouldn’t feel like pulling teeth,” you hiss.

He narrows his eyes, tightening his grip just a fraction, enough to make your pulse jump. “There you fucking go again. Acting like you’re the only one who cares about this.”

You force yourself to keep the smile plastered on your face for the camera, teeth clenched. “Oh, forgive me for thinking you don’t give a shit. It’s not like you haven’t disappeared for months without a word.”

“You think I wanted to leave?”

“You didn’t exactly try to stay,” you snap, fingers digging into his shoulders. “You left me to deal with the fallout while you got to play the tortured artist somewhere else. And now you’re back, and you’re acting like none of it mattered.”

“You didn’t want me to stay,” he says, barely more than a whisper. “You didn’t even ask.”

The accusation slices through you, and your grip on his shoulders loosens. “How was I supposed to ask when you made up your mind without me?” you fire back. “You made it clear that I wasn’t worth staying for.”

His expression hardens, like he’s trying to cover the hurt bleeding through his anger. “That’s not fair. You never once asked how I felt about it. You just decided I didn’t care.”

You want to scream at him for being so oblivious—for acting like you didn’t spend weeks waiting for a call that never came. Instead, you force your lips into a tight, brittle smile. “Guess you made it pretty damn convincing when you left even though I asked you to stay.”

Something in his eyes cracks, just for a moment, but then Aglaea’s voice cuts through.

“Yes! That’s it!” she crows. “Keep it up. Mydei, cup her face.”

He doesn’t move at first, just stares down at you, his breath coming out in uneven bursts. Then his hand lifts, cupping your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek like it’s muscle memory. The way he looks at you, then, makes your throat close up.

You want to push him away, but your hands stay where they are, like they’re glued to him. Aglaea calls out more instructions, but her voice is distant—just noise behind the thunder in your chest.

When she finally calls for a wrap, you step back, your hands falling limply to your sides. Mydei’s arms drop away from you, his face shuttered and closed off again. You don’t look at him as you turn on your heel and walk off to the break room, every muscle in your body screaming with the urge to just get away from him before you say something even worse.

[CUT TO BLACK SCREEN] Text appears on screen: “The Members’ Cut.”

The screen fades out into grainy footage from an old concert: Mydei and _____ on stage, harmonising, Mydei strumming his guitar while _____ sways with the mic. The audience sways as one, flashlights held up as they move in time with the song. The video fades out.

[INT. STUDIO – DOCUMENTARY INTERVIEW SETUP]

[CUT TO: PHAINON, sitting cross-legged on a couch, an easy smile on his face.]

PHAINON: Back then? Man, they were something else. You’d think they were fused at the hip with how much time they spent together. Writing songs at three in the morning, huddled over some crumpled notebook, arguing about chord progressions one second and laughing the next. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people make something so good while simultaneously wanting to strangle each other. It was weirdly sweet.

[CUT TO: CASTORICE, sitting in a green room with her legs swung over the arm of a chair.]

CASTORICE: _____ used to steal Mydei’s hoodies every time we hit a new city. Didn’t matter how hot it was—she’d be drowning in that thing, sleeves halfway covering her hands. Mydei’d just roll his eyes and mumble something about it smelling weird when he got it back, but he never complained. They’d go on these stupid little coffee dates whenever we had downtime—just the two of them, sneaking off like no one would notice. We noticed. Everyone noticed.

[CUT TO: HYACINE, sitting on the floor of the green room.]

HYACINE: Honestly? Their songs were the best ones we ever wrote. Together, they just… clicked. It was effortless. I think the first time I heard “After Midnight”, I kinda wanted to throw up from how sweet it was. But you could tell—every word, every note—they put their whole hearts into it. It was like they were making something for just the two of them, and the rest of us were lucky to get a piece of it.

[CUT TO: PHAINON AGAIN, still sporting that easy smile.]

PHAINON: But, y’know, things got complicated. Like they always do. They’re both stubborn as hell, and neither of them knows how to sit down and talk without throwing metaphorical knives at each other. Still… (Laughs softly) I stand by what I said. If they screw each other and get it over with, everyone’s gonna be okay.

iv). wanna kiss his face with an uppercut.

You’re sprawled across the hotel bed, face buried in the pillow, when your phone rings. You groan, tempted to ignore it, but the screen flashes Anaxagoras’ name, and you know better than to let it go to voicemail.

You pick up and press the phone to your ear. “Yeah?”

“Don’t sound so enthusiastic,” Anaxa deadpans. His voice is brisk, no-nonsense as always. “I’m just checking in.”

“Fantastic,” you say dryly, sitting up and running a hand through your hair. “Photoshoot went great. Almost fought Mydei. Twice.”

“Great Kephale,” he mutters, and you can imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are you two still at each other’s throats?”

“It’s kind of hard not to be when he acts like breathing the same air as me is a personal insult,” you snap. “Aglaea made us take those stupid couple shots, and he looked like he wanted to die the whole time. It’s—” You break off, clenching your jaw. “It’s annoying.”

Anaxa grunts, unimpressed. “You’re letting him get to you.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Then stop it,” he says, as if it’s that easy. “You don’t have to like him, but you do have to get through this. It’s one shoot and a few public appearances. You’ve handled worse.”

“That’s the problem. It’s not supposed to be worse. We’re supposed to be professionals, but he’s—he’s making it impossible.”

Anaxa doesn’t answer right away, but when he does, his tone is firm. “Look, if he wants to act like a child, let him. You don’t have to stoop to his level. Smile for the camera, grit your teeth if you have to, and don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s pissing you off.”

You hate that he’s right. “Yeah. I know.”

“You want me to handle anything?”

“No,” you say quickly, shaking your head even though he can’t see it. “I’ll deal with it.”

He doesn’t bother with goodbyes, just hangs up like always. You let your phone drop onto the bed and slump back down, staring up at the ceiling. You hate that it’s still gnawing at you—the frustration, the hurt, the way Mydei’s indifference feels like a punch to the gut every single time.

You tell yourself it’s fine. You can handle it. You’ve been through worse.

A knock at the door startles you out of your thoughts. You blink, wondering if you imagined it, but then it comes again—more impatient, this time. You groan and push yourself up, dragging your feet as you cross the room. Your muscles still ache from the photoshoot, and your mood hasn’t improved because of Anaxa’s call.

You pull the door open, expecting maybe Castorice or one of the others, but it’s Mydei. He leans against the doorframe, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his jaw set in that familiar way that makes you want to slam the door right in his face.

“What do you want?” you snap, not even attempting to sound polite.

He glances away, gaze fixed on some spot above your shoulder. “I— Just wanted to—”

“Oh, please,” you interrupt. “Like you fucking care.”

“Don’t start.”

“I’m starting,” you snap back, “because you spent the whole fucking day making it perfectly clear that breathing the same air as me is unbearable, and now you’re playing concerned? Do you even look at yourself?”

“Maybe I do care,” he tells you, and you cut in again.

“You’re the one who looked like he’d rather die than put his hands on me. Trust me, I noticed.”

“It’s not that—” He cuts himself off, jaw clenched, and steps closer. “You don’t get it.”

“Then explain it to me!” you shoot back, shoving his shoulder. “You can’t just act like a dick and expect me to read your mind. Or are you still too much of a coward to admit anything out loud?”

That hits a nerve. His eyes flash, and he steps into your space, so close you can feel the heat coming off him. “Maybe if you didn’t act so fucking righteous all the time, I wouldn’t feel like I’m losing my mind around you,” he spits out.

“Yeah?” you challenge, shoving him again just to get him to react. “Maybe if you didn’t keep running away every time something actually matters, we wouldn’t be stuck in this stupid cycle!”

He grabs your wrist, yanking you even closer, and you can feel his breath on your face, warm and ragged. “I’m not running.”

“Yes, you are,” you hiss, your voice cracking despite yourself. “You always do. You think if you act like nothing happened, it’ll just go away. Well, fuck you, Mydei, because it doesn’t.”

He looks at you like he wants to argue, but his jaw works soundlessly, and you’re so sick of it—so tired of dancing around whatever’s been festering between you since the band split. Before you know it, your hands are gripping the front of his jacket, yanking him forward just as he crushes his mouth against yours.

It’s not soft or careful—nothing about it is gentle. It’s teeth and heat and frustration, like trying to punish each other for every stupid fight, every missed chance. He makes a low, frustrated noise, backing you into the room and kicking the door shut behind him.

Your hands are tangled in his hair now, and his grip on your waist is bruising, like he’s terrified you’ll pull away. You bite down on his lower lip, and he groans against your mouth, pressing you back until your spine meets the wall.

“You’re an asshole,” you mutter against his lips, barely catching your breath.

He just smirks, dragging his mouth down to your jaw, his voice rough and breathless. “Yeah? You’re not much better.”

Your fingers tighten in his hair, and he doesn’t even try to hide the shiver that rolls through him. You hate him—you hate him so much for making you feel like this, for pushing and pulling and never letting you breathe. But right now, with his mouth on yours and his hands on your body and heat pooling inside your stomach, the only thing you can think of is him taking you against the wall.

You barely register the way Mydei lifts you off the ground, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he pins you to the wall. His mouth is hot and unrelenting against yours, like he’s trying to erase every insult you’ve ever thrown at him. You’re just as ruthless, biting at his lips and tugging his hair hard enough to make him growl.

He eases you down when you moan—embarrassingly loudly, but you don’t give a fuck. His hand slides under the waistband of your jeans, and you don’t stop him. You let him tug them down, the denim sliding down your legs and pooling at your ankles. Mydei lifts you up, just so you stand on your tiptoes long enough for him to kick them aside. Every brush of his skin against yours feels like an assault—every touch a reminder of all the hurt, all the anger—but you don’t pull away.

You hate him. You love him. You need him.

His hands slide down to your thighs, gripping tight enough to leave marks, and then he pulls back, panting, his eyes dark and wild. You’re wet by now, enough that your underwear feels cool from where a damp spot has formed already.

“You always have to have the last fucking word, don’t you?” he grits out.

You scoff. “Someone’s gotta knock you off your high horse.”

He huffs a laugh, but it’s rough. Without warning, he drops to his knees, his hands slipping under your thighs to keep you steady as he buries his face between your legs.

You gasp, one hand flying to the wall to brace yourself, the other still tangled in his hair. Mydei doesn’t waste any time—he’s ruthless, licking you through the fabric of your panties. It makes your head spin. You choke on a moan, trying to squirm, but he just tightens his grip, keeping you firmly in place.

“Mydei—” you start, but his teeth graze your inner thigh, and your words dissolve into a shuddering gasp.

“Shut up,” he mutters, yanking your underwear to the side and pressing his mouth against your folds with a fierce sort of hunger. His tongue flicks over your clit, and your head falls back against the wall, a keening sound leaving your throat.

“God, you’re such an asshole,” you manage to choke out, even as your thighs tremble around his head.

He laughs against you, the vibrations making you bite down on your lip to stifle a whimper. “You’re still running your mouth,” he taunts, giving your thigh a squeeze. “Wonder if I can make you shut up.”

He doubles down, sucking your clit between his lips and flicking his tongue in a manner that has you seeing stars. Your nails scrape against his scalp, and he just groans in response, the vibrations sending another shockwave through you. Your hips jerk forward. He grips you harder, dragging his mouth down to lick at your folds like he’s starved for it.

Your fingers tighten in his hair. You can’t help the way you tug him closer, grinding against his face despite yourself. Mydei merely hums approvingly, his hands sliding under your ass to lift you higher, pressing you harder against the wall.

When his tongue dips inside your clenching hole, your knees almost give out, but he holds you steady, refusing to let you escape the overwhelming, maddening pleasure. You’re barely breathing, trying to swallow down the sounds threatening to spill out, but when he curls his tongue just right, you can’t stop the loud, desperate moan that breaks free.

He pulls back just enough to smirk up at you, his lips slick and his eyes burning. “You done being a brat now?”

You glare down at him, panting and still shaking. “Fuck you.”

His smirk only widens, and before you can blink, he’s pressing his mouth against you again—rough, merciless, relentless. It doesn’t take long before your vision blurs and your head tips back, his name tearing from your lips as you come against his mouth.

He doesn’t stop until your thighs are trembling and your grip on his hair has gone slack, and even then, he licks you through the aftershocks like he’s addicted to the taste of you. When he finally pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he stands, and says, “You’ll give me one more, won’t you?”

Your breath comes out in shallow pants. You can barely muster the energy to glare at him, but his smirk only grows as he straightens up, dragging his hands up your sides and pushing your shirt higher until it’s bunched under your arms. You’re still too dazed to protest when he lifts it over your head, tossing it to the floor before his hands find your waist again, pulling you flush against him.

He dips down to kiss you, and you taste yourself on his lips—sweet and dizzying all at once. You’re still recovering from your climax, but it doesn’t matter—he kisses you like he’s making up for every second he hasn’t touched you, rough and a little desperate, his hands squeezing your hips.

His hands slide up your back, finding the clasp of your bra. You don’t even have time to catch your breath before he unhooks it and slides and straps down your arms, tossing it aside without a second thought. His mouth is back on yours in an instant, but his hands cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that makes your back arch off the wall.

You don’t even think before your fingers find the hem of his shirt, pushing it up and over his head, and he helps you get it off before crashing his mouth against yours again. Your hands roam over his bare chest, feeling the hard lines of muscle and the rapid beat of his heart under your fingertips. His skin is warm and slightly slick with sweat, and you can’t resist scraping your nails lightly down his abdomen just to feel him shiver.

He bites down on your lower lip in retaliation, and you gasp into his mouth. It earns you a low chuckle. You’re about to shoot back with something sarcastic when his hands slide up to cup your breasts again, rolling your nipples between his fingers, and your retort dies in your throat.

“Thought you were gonna give me attitude,” he murmurs against your mouth, lips curving into a cocky grin. “Guess you can be good when you want to.”

“Shut up,” you breathe out, but your voice comes out shaky. He laughs softly, bending down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. Your hands fly back to his hair, fingers twisting in the strands, and he groans the tug.

Your hips buck against his, and he grinds back without hesitation, the hard line of his cock rubbing against your thigh through his jeans. You can feel just how badly he wants you; the thought sends another wave of heat flooding through your veins. You tug at his hair hard enough to make him look up at you, his lips red and swollen.

“Quit teasing,” you pant. Mydei’s eyes flash with something dark and hungry.

He doesn’t bother replying—just scoops you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. His mouth is back on yours, demanding, and you feel him fumbling with his belt between your bodies. You don’t have the patience to wait, so you reach down to help him, your hands brushing against his as you yank the buckle open and shove his jeans and briefs down just enough to free his cock.

He groans in relief when your hand wraps around his cock, stroking it slowly and spreading his pre-cum across the length. He bites back a curse. His hands tighten on your thighs, and you don’t miss the way his muscles tense under your touch. You give him a little smirk, but it falters when he presses his tip against your entrance, not quite pushing in yet.

“Are you sure?” he asks, eyes roaming over your face.

You roll your eyes, grabbing his face and pulling him down into a bruising kiss. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I swear—”

You don’t get to finish because he thrusts into you all at once, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Your head tips back against the wall, and Mydei buries his face in the crook of your neck, groaning against your skin as he adjusts to the tight warmth of your cunt. His breath is hot and ragged, each exhale brushing against your collarbone. His fingers dig into your thighs.

“Fuck,” he rasps, voice rough and strained. His hips pull back just enough to drag his length almost completely out before he slams back in, his pace brutal from the start. The force of it makes your back scrape against the wall, and you can feel every inch of him—thick and girthy, splitting you open in a way that has your body straining towards him.

Your hands scrabble for purchase, nails leaving crescents on his shoulders as he sets a relentless rhythm, each thrust hitting deep and perfect. You’re clinging to him, your legs tightening around his waist as he drives into you. The wet, obscene sounds of your skin against skin echo through the room, mingling with your breathless mons and his low groans.

“Fuck—so tight,” he mutters against your skin, his mouth dragging along your throat, teeth scraping and biting hard enough to leave a slight stinging in their wake. “You feel so fucking good. S’like you were made for me.”

You whimper, your hips rocking against his instinctively, desperate for more. You can’t stop yourself from moaning his name shakily. It spurs him on. He grins against your neck, pressing a sloppy kiss to your pulse point before sucking a bruise into your skin.

“Yeah? That good, huh?” he taunts, his tone mocking but laced with genuine awe. One of his hands slides from your waist to cup your breast, squeezing just enough to make you gasp. His thumb grazes over your nipple, and the sensation has your back arching off the wall, pushing your chest further into his hand.

Your head is spinning, pleasure coiling tight and hot in your belly as he fucks into you hard. You can feel every ride and vein dragging against your walls, every thrust forcing sounds out of you that you didn’t even know you could make.

His mouth finds yours again; his teeth nip at your bottom lip before he slips his tongue inside. You’re so lost in him, so overwhelmed, that it takes you a second to realise his other hand has slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and circling it with almost punishing pressure.

“Fuck—” Your hands are back in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him hiss, but he doesn’t let up, the rough pads of his fingers rubbing insistently as his cock drives into you again and again. “I can’t—fuck, I’m—”

“Gonna come again?” he growls against your mouth, his pace never faltering. “You’re gonna come all over my cock, aren’t you? That’s it. Good girl.”

His words make your thighs clench. Your climax comes over you without warning, tearing a strangled cry from your throat. Your walls clench around him, pulsing and fluttering as pleasure blazes through every nerve ending. You feel your thighs trembling where they’re locked around his waist.

Mydei doesn’t slow down; he just keeps fucking you through it, each thrust coaxing another wave of sensation that leaves you gasping and boneless in his grip. Your mind is a haze, barely able to process how good it feels to be taken like this. You’re dimly aware of his breathing getting rougher, his hips stuttering as your body milks him.

You drag his face back to yours, capturing his lips in a desperate, messy kiss, biting until you taste copper. He groans into you. You feel him shudder just before his rhythm falters. With one last, deep snap of his hips, he buries his cock inside you, spilling hot and thick as his body shakes with the force of his release.

His forehead presses against yours as he catches his breath, both of you panting and trembling. He stays inside you, like he’s not quite ready to let you go, his hands sliding up your sides to hold you close. You’re still reeling, your pulse racing, but you manage a small, satisfied smile, brushing your lips over his with a gentleness that almost feels out of place after what just happened.

For a long moment, neither of you move—you just breathe each other in, letting the remnants of pleasure tangle in the space between you. Finally, he pulls back enough to meet your gaze, his thumb brushing over your swollen lower lip.

“Still think I’m running my mouth?” you whisper, still trying to muster some semblance of defiance.

Mydei simply nudges his nose against yours. “Maybe,” he says, a little bit hoarse, “but at least I finally shut you up.”

[CUT TO BLACK SCREEN] Text appears on screen: “Chrysos Heirs: The Reunion Tour – Behind the Music. Episode Two.”

[INT. STUDIO – DOCUMENTARY INTERVIEW SETUP]

[CUT TO: CASTORICE, sitting on a stool.]

CASTORICE: You want to know about the relationships? (Grins) Oh, man. It’s like a dysfunctional family reunion. Some of us slipped right back into old habits, and some of us… well, it’s complicated. Mydei and _____? (Snorts) Don’t even get me started. You can feel the tension from three rooms away.

[CUT TO: HYACINE, sitting cross-legged on the floor.]

HYACINE: There’s definitely still some… uh, unresolved stuff. We used to be so tight. All of us. I mean, we fought, sure, but we’d always make up eventually. Now? I don’t know. It’s like everyone’s got their guard up. Phainon’s doing his best to keep things light, Castorice just barrels through any tension like she doesn’t notice, but Mydei and _____… (Pauses) It’s like walking on eggshells around them.

[CUT TO: PHAINON, leaning back against the wall with his guitar across his lap.]

PHAINON: I think everyone kind of forgot how to be around each other. We spent years being everything to one another—friends, family, bandmates, rivals. When the band split, it wasn’t just the music that fell apart. It was us. Now it’s like… we’re all trying to figure out where we stand again. The way Castorice and Hyacine laugh like nothing’s changed, while Mydei and _____ act like they’re on opposite sides of a war zone. It’s exhausting.

[CUT TO: MYDEI, still slouched on a couch with his arms crossed.]

MYDEI: I’m not gonna sit here and pretend everything’s fine. It’s not. The band breaking up after I left? I’m sure that wasn’t just some decision they made over drinks. Castorice acts like we’re one big happy family again, but she knows it’s not that simple. Phainon’s always the peacemaker, trying to smooth everything over, but that just makes it worse sometimes. I don’t know.

[CUT TO: YOU, sitting on a folding chair.]

YOU: It’s frustrating. We used to be so close. All of us. And now it feels like every word has teeth. Castorice is trying so hard to keep us from falling apart again, and Hyacine’s just… tired. Phainon’s stuck playing mediator, and Mydei—(shakes head)—he still looks at me like it’s probably my fault. Maybe it is. But it wasn’t just me who made it boil down to this.

[CUT TO: CASTORICE AGAIN, balancing her drumsticks on her finger.]

CASTORICE: We’ve always been a mess. That’s kind of our thing. But it used to be that we were messy together. Now it feels like we’re just trying not to accidentally set each other off. I miss how easy it used to be. Back when Mydei and _____ could actually talk without biting each other’s heads off. Back when Hyacine would just crack a joke instead of staying quiet.

[CUT TO: HYACINE AGAIN, resting her chin on her hand.]

HYACINE: Sometimes it feels like we’re playing pretend. Like we’re trying to convince ourselves that we’re still friends when we’re really just… people who used to know each other. Cas keeps pushing for us to hang out after shows, but it never feels right. Everyone’s just waiting for someone to break the silence. I don’t know. Maybe it’ll get better once we’ve been on the road for longer.

[CUT TO: PHAINON AGAIN, eyes thoughtful as he fiddles with his guitar strap.]

PHAINON: I think everyone’s just afraid to be the one who cares the most. Back in the day, we knew each other better than anyone else did. Now, it’s like we’re scared of stepping on each other’s wounds. Mydei’s carrying too much pride to apologise, and _____ is too stubborn to forgive. Castorice and Hyacine just want everyone to get alone, but no one’s talking about the elephant in the room. We’re good at pretending on stage, though. Real good.

[CUT TO: MYDEI, his jaw clenched, his eyes hard.]

MYDEI: You don’t just come back from something like that. You don’t go from being everything to each other to nothing without it leaving a scar. I’m not saying it’s all her fault. (Hesitates) I’m just saying that it’s easier to be mad than to admit I might’ve messed up, too. That’s why I keep my distance. It’s just… easier that way.

[CUT TO: YOU, looking almost weary.]

YOU: I never thought it would feel this hollow. I don’t know what I expected—a clean slate, maybe? But it doesn’t work like that. We’re still carrying the past with us, and it’s dragging us down. I guess… I just wish he’d talk to me. Even if it’s to say he hates me. At least that would be something.

[CUT TO: CASTORICE, shrugging with a half-smile.]

CASTORICE: Whatever happens, I’m not giving up. We’re stuck with each other. That’s just how it is. Even if we have to scream it out or throw things at each other, we’re gonna make it work. Because the way they look at each other sometimes? There’s still something there. They just gotta get over themselves long enough to see it.

[CUT TO: PHAINON, adjusting his guitar.]

PHAINON: They’ll figure it out. We’re not just a band—we’re more than that. And sometimes, being more means we break and put ourselves back together. We’ll get there.

[CUT TO: HYACINE, giving a faint smile.]

HYACINE: If we can just stop letting the past dictate everything, maybe we can start being friends again. Maybe more. I don’t know. But I do know this—on stage, we’re still the same. Maybe the music will help us remember how to be us again.

v). so i write him all these letters and i throw them in the trash.

When you stir in your sleep, the mattress beside you is cold.

It’s late—past midnight, probably. Your stomach grumbles; you sit up and shuffle tiredly over to the mini-bar and grab a bag of salted cashew nuts, tearing it open. There’s no trace of Mydei. It’s as if he was never here, didn’t fuck you against the wall like it was all he could think of, didn’t lay down on the bed next to you and curl a strong arm around your waist.

You wish you could say you were just disappointed. The truth is, you had expected nothing else, but disappointment still curls around your ribs.

It’s stupid. You walk over to the glass table placed in front of the plush armchair towards the side of your bed. There’s a notepad and a slightly blunt pencil placed on top of it. You sink into the armchair, popping a handful of cashew nuts into your mouth and chewing.

The words should be flowing by now—anger and frustration always make for good material—but tonight, they’re stuck somewhere between your ribs, buried under the feeling of his mouth on your skin.

It shouldn’t feel like this. You knew what you were getting into. You knew better than to expect anything else from him. But the way he kissed you, like he was trying to make you forget every fight—made your chest ache. You’re not surprised that he’s gone. You’re not even hurt, really. Just angry. Angry at him for leaving without a word, angry at yourself for caring that he did. You shove a few more cashews into your mouth and wipe your fingers on your sweatpants before picking up the pencil.

Your hand moves almost without thinking, words scrawling across the page faster than you can catch up with them.

You look at me like I’m your only song, And I play the part even when it feels wrong. We’re always dancing on the edge of a goodbye, But I’d risk the fall just to feel you by my side.

You pause, glaring at the lyrics. You should throw the notepad across the room, rip the page out, crush it in your fist. Instead, you just sit there, tapping the pencil against your knee. You can still feel the way his mouth moved against yours, the bruising grip of his hands on your hips. You take a shaky breath and force yourself to keep writing. It’s better than sitting here drowning in the memory of him.

We’re tangled and twisted and never the same, We love like it hurts and kiss through the pain. You’re poison and honey and everything wrong, And I hate that you’re still the one I want.

The pencil scrapes harshly against the paper as you press harder than you mean to. The words taste bitter in your mouth, but at least they’re honest. Maybe that’s why it’s so hard to write them down—because admitting that you want more than just his hands on you feels like exposing a wound you’ve been pretending doesn’t exist.

You swallow down the knot in your throat and lean back, squeezing your eyes shut. It would almost be easier if you hated him. If you could just shove him out of your head and pretend he was nothing more than a bad decision. But it’s not that simple. You don’t just want him; you want the old him, the one who used to light up when you walked into the room, who teased you until you were laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe. You want the Mydei who didn’t always look at you like you’re a problem he can’t fix.

You know you’re being unfair. He’s not the only one who’s changed. You’re not the same either—too guarded, too tired. Sometimes you wonder if you’re just setting yourself up for disappointment because it’s easier than admitting you still love him.

Your chest aches, and the next words come almost like a confession.

You look at me like I’m the one you’ve been missing, Kiss me like I’m the dream you keep wishing Would come true when the lights fade away— But you never stay.

You finish the verse and set the pencil down, pressing your fingertips to your lips like you can still taste him there.

You told yourself you wouldn’t do this again. But he looked at you tonight like he was starving—like you were something he couldn’t resist. And you let him have you because a part of you needed it, too. Needed to feel wanted, even if it was just for a few hours. Even if he was gone before you woke up.

You shove the notepad away, letting it fall to the floor as you curl up in the armchair, knees pulled to your chest. The song lingers in your head, the lyrics clawing at your heart. You feel ridiculous for letting him get under your skin like this, like a bruise that won’t heal.

The truth is, you’d let him hurt you a thousand times if it meant he’d look at you like that again. Like you’re the only thing keeping him alive. Maybe that makes you a fool, but you don’t know how to be anything else when it comes to him.

Shaking your head as though to dissolve it of its thoughts, you tear out the sheet of paper with your lyrics on it, fold it into a square hastily, and shove it inside the pocket of your sweatpants. You stand up and grab your lighter from your bag. You need a smoke.

[CUT TO BLACK SCREEN] Text appears on screen: “The Founders’ Cut.”

[INT. STUDIO – DOCUMENTARY INTERVIEW SETUP]

[CUT TO: YOU, sitting on a simple black stool, hands loosely clasped in your lap.]

YOU: Writing with Mydei… God, it used to be so easy. We didn’t have to think about it. (Smiles softly) We’d just be sitting on the floor of his shitty apartment—barely any furniture, just the couch his neighbour was gonna throw out and that one rug we stole from Hyacine’s place. One of us would pick up the guitar, start playing something, and it was like everything else just faded out.

INTERVIEWER (off-screen): Was it always that natural?

YOU: (Nods) Yeah. It just worked. Sometimes we didn’t even talk before starting a song. I’d be on the floor, writing down whatever came to mind, and he’d be next to me, leaning against the wall with his guitar. Sometimes I’d hum something, and he’d just—pick it up. It was like we were reading each other’s minds.

[CUT TO: MYDEI, sitting with his back slightly hunched, elbows on his knees.]

MYDEI: We wrote some of our best songs at 3 A.M, dead tired, arguing about lyrics while eating instant ramen. She’d always overthink the words—had to make sure they said exactly what she wanted. I didn’t care as much. I guess I figured the feeling mattered more than getting every word right.

INTERVIEWER: Do you have an example for the same?

MYDEI: There was this one song (pauses, shakes his head). We wrote it after this stupid fight. I’d stormed out, pissed as hell, but when I came back, she was sitting on the floor, scribbling lyrics like her life depended on it. I didn’t say anything. Just sat down and played along with whatever she was humming. Neither of us apologised, but… I guess that was our way of making up.

[CUT TO: YOU]

YOU: We never talked about it, you know? We’d write all these songs that were practically confessions—about each other, about how much it hurt when we fought, or how we couldn’t stand being apart—and then we’d just… move on. Never acknowledged it.

INTERVIEWER: Do you regret that?

YOU: (Hesitates) Sometimes. But the songs made it pretty obvious. We were practically begging each other to figure it out without actually saying it.

[CUT TO: MYDEI]

MYDEI: She always wrote like it was her way of… bleeding out whatever she couldn’t say. We made something good out of it, though. Even if we never said it out loud. And… yeah. Sometimes I miss that. The simplicity of it. Just us and a guitar and whatever shit we were working through. I didn’t need anything else back then.

[CUT TO: YOU]

YOU: It’s funny. We used to write about heartbreak like it was this distant concept—something that happened to other people. Never thought we’d end up writing about each other.

vi). i want to get him back (and then?)

The rooftop is quiet at this hour—too early for most and too late for the rest. The sky is more navy than blue, more shadow than light. You push the heavy metal door open with your shoulder, and it clicks shut behind you with a soft thud. You tug your hoodie tighter around you, retreating into the warmth, and dig around in your pocket for your cigarettes.

The lighter sparks on the second try. You inhale. Smoke fills your lungs, and something in you loosens. You hate how easy it still is to find comfort in bad habits.

That’s when you notice him.

At first, it’s just the faint glow of a cigarette at the far corner of the rooftop. But you know it’s him—know it in the shape of his silhouette, the way he leans forward with one elbow braced on the ledge, hoodie pulled low over his face. Mydei. Of course.

You hesitate for a beat, frozen halfway between the door and where he stands. It would be easier to leave—pretend you didn’t see him, pretend you didn’t spend the night tangled up in him and then wake up to cold sheets and silence.

But you don’t.

Your steps are quiet as you cross the rooftop, stopping a few feet away from him. He doesn’t look at you, just exhales slowly, eyes on the horizon. You take a drag from your cigarette, watching the tip burn orange, watching the smoke curl upwards and vanish into the sky.

“Why’d you leave?” you ask. You mean the hotel room, but not only that.

He’s quiet for a long time. You wonder if he’s even going to answer.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he says eventually, still not looking at you.

You huff a breath. It’s not quite a laugh. “You didn’t want to be there.”

He doesn’t argue. The silence stretches again, but it’s not uncomfortable. Just tired. He glances at you. The wind picks up a little, brushing your hair across your cheek. He notices—always notices—and shifts just slightly so he’s blocking the breeze. Neither of you says anything about it.

“You looked peaceful,” Mydei says. “I didn’t want to mess it up.”

“You think not being there was better?”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

You nod. You don’t push. You’ve learned not to with him. “It’s not just about tonight,” you say quietly.

He nods, eyes dark and shadowed. “I know.”

The sun starts to edge over the horizon, painting faint streaks of pink and orange across the navy sky. It’s beautiful in that fragile, fleeting way, like something you’re scared to touch because you know it’s too delicate to last. You both watch in silence for a while, letting the smoke and the light fill the air between you. There’s a comfort in it, strangely enough. The way the world keeps turning even when your heart feels like it’s stuck. The way mornings come anyway.

You look at Mydei again.

He’s tired. You can see it in the curve of his mouth, in the slump of his shoulders. But he’s here. Part of you wants to ask him why. Why he came up here. Why he didn’t leave the hotel entirely. Why he lets himself touch you but won’t let himself stay. Instead, you say nothing.

He offers you his lighter when yours gives out, and your fingers brush when you take it. It’s a brief touch, barely there, but it’s enough to make your chest ache in that too-familiar way.

You smoke the rest of your cigarettes side by side, not speaking, not needing to. It’s the kind of silence that used to exist between songs in the studio. When you stub the last bit out on the ledge, you take one last look at the sunrise. The light catches on his face now, gold and soft, and you want to say something. You don’t even know what.

So instead, you pull your hoodie tighter and nod. “I should go.”

He nods too, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t stop you either.

You turn back towards the door, and as you do, a folded piece of paper slips from your pocket. You don’t notice it fall, fluttering once before landing gently near his feet. You don’t notice it, because you’re too busy disappearing back into the stairwell, too wrapped up in keeping your shoulders straight and your breathing steady.

He doesn’t move for a while after you’re gone.

Then, slowly, Mydei leans down and picks up the paper. The handwriting is unmistakable—your quick, slanted script, a few smudges where the pencil dragged.

He reads it once. Twice.

Then he folds it back up, holds it in his hand like it might crumble, and watches the sun break over the city, alone.

The lights shift from the vibrant spotlights of the previous set into something softer, slower—dimmed gold and dusky purple spreading like ink over the stage. Your mic is cold under your fingers. You roll the cord absently through your hand. You can’t see much beyond the footlights; only the sea of shadows, the faint outlines of swaying arms and cell phone lights blinking like stars.

But Mydei’s there, across from you. This next song is just you and him, after all.

He’s adjusting the strap of his guitar, head bowed, eyes hidden beneath the fall of his hair.

It’s the same stage. The same lights. The same song. Why does it feel so different?

The crowd doesn’t know what they’re about to hear. Most of them don’t even know the song, you’re pretty sure. It’s some B-side from one of your earlier albums. You remember when you wrote it. The quiet of three in the morning, the late-night arguments that bled into music, the unraveling of two people who couldn’t speak to each other unless it was in chords and half-rhymed lines.

Here you are again. Older. Worse at pretending.

The intro begins with gentle chords, the kind that hurt more than they soothe. Your mic is already at your lips. You inhale like it’s your first breath of the night.

“I told myself I wouldn’t care this time, Said your name like it didn’t still taste like goodbye. But you look at me like you never learned how to let go…”

Your voice holds, though it feels like walking a tightrope. Every word comes out measured, like if you let it slip, your heart will come out tumbling too. You don’t look at him, not yet. You can feel his presence—like gravity—but you don’t turn your head.

Not until he sings. Then, you do. He meets your gaze.

“I said we were fire meant to burn out fast, But I keep finding you in every song I’ve written last. You don’t ask me to stay, and I don’t ask you to try… But we’re still standing here, pretending we’re fine.”

His voice—God, his voice. It’s rougher than it used to be, edges carved by years and distance, but it still wraps around your lyrics like it was always meant to. He’s not just singing. He’s looking at you like he’s saying every word for the first time. It knocks the air from your lungs.

Your heart’s pounding now, and you hate that it still reacts to him like this. Like your body remembers the way he used to hold you when no one else was watching.

The chorus crashes over both of you.

“So lie to me, baby, say it’s still love, Say the ending never mattered, that this beginning’s enough. We were smoke, we were stars, we were doomed from the start, But tonight, just tonight, sing like you still mean every part.”

Mydei steps closer. You do, too. It’s instinct, not plan. You don’t even realise it until you’re nearly toe-to-toe, voices tangling into harmony, eyes locked.

You wonder if the crowd can feel it. If they can hear the way your throat tightens, how the vowels tremble when he looks at you like that. Like he’s trying to remember the shape of you—not just your face, but your soul. The bridge comes. You always dreaded it.

“Maybe we’ll break like we always do, Maybe we’ll forget this in the morning too. But for now—God, for now— You still feel like a home I never knew.”

The line lands like a punch to the chest. Yours, and maybe his too.

You let it ring out, raw and full. For a second, it feels like the two of you are back in that tiny studio years ago—barefoot, angry, tired, in love. Writing a song you were both too scared to mean. But you meant it. You always did, and you do now.

The last chorus is quieter, a lullaby instead of a plea.

“And I’d sing this with you a thousand times… if you’d let me.”

You drop your hand from the mic, breath catching in your throat, and for a moment—just a moment—there’s silence. Just you and Mydei.

He doesn’t move. He’s staring at you with something unspoken lodged in his eyes, something that looks too close to regret.

You turn away first. Your heart’s already too full. One more second and it might burst.

The crowd roars behind you, applause crashing in waves.

[CUT TO BLACK SCREEN] Text appears on screen: “The Members’ Cut.”

[INT. STUDIO – DOCUMENTARY INTERVIEW SETUP]

[CUT TO: CASTORICE, lounging back on the couch.]

CASTORICE: It was just a fact. Mydei and _____. You didn’t say one name without the other. (Shakes her head) And the way they used to look at each other on stage? Insane. Like, we’d be in the middle of a song, and I’d be watching them instead of playing because damn. The rest of us could’ve vanished into thin air, and they wouldn’t have noticed.

(Laughs lightly, rolling her eyes.)

CASTORICE (CONT’D): It was kinda funny, actually. Like, okay, we get it, you’re in love. Can we get through the set without you two making heart eyes at each other? (Pause) But, y’know… it was also kinda nice. Seeing people that in sync. That kind of connection isn’t something you fake.

[CUT TO: HYACINE, sitting cross-legged on the floor, bass resting on her lap.]

HYACINE: They were disgusting. I mean that in the nicest way possible. (Grinning) Like, you’d be tuning your guitar, and they’d just be standing off to the side, whispering to each other like they weren’t literally about to perform in front of thousands of people. And yeah, sure, couples sing duets all the time, but with them? It was different. Like they were letting us in on something private, something meant just for them. Even if it was a song they’d performed a hundred times before, it always felt like they were saying something new.

(Chuckles, eyes soft with nostalgia.)

HYACINE (CONT’D): They made you believe in that kind of love, y’know? The all-consuming, this-song-is-about-you kind of love. You couldn’t want them and not feel it.

[CUT TO: PHAINON, sitting with his arms draped over the back of the chair, smirking lightly.]

PHAINON: Yeah, they were that couple. The ones who made you roll your eyes but also kind of wish you had what they had. Like, I remember this one show—Mydei had just finished this crazy guitar solo, and instead of, I don’t know, reveling in the applause like a normal person, he immediately turned to _____ like she was the only one whose reaction mattered. And she just grinned at him, and I swear to God, he looked like he won the lottery.

(Shakes his head and scoffs.)

PHAINON (CONT’D): They were reckless with it. Loud about it. No hesitation, no holding back. They didn’t just love each other, they showed it. And that’s rare. You don’t get that kind of honesty on stage very often.

(His smirk fades just slightly.)

PHAINON (CONT’D): …That’s why it was so hard when it ended.

vii). ‘cause i miss the way he kisses and the way he made me laugh.

The crowd is louder tonight. Not louder in volume, necessarily, but just… like they’re expecting something. Like they know something you don’t.

You glance at the setlist as someone does your in-ear check. Your duet with Mydei is coming up next—the same one you’ve done every night for years. It’s not your most popular song, but it’s yours. It always has been. Something about it felt safe even now, when everything else between you and him was held together with duct tape and willpower.

You take a sip of water and step towards the side of the stage, waiting for the intro cues.

But when you hear the first notes, they’re not yours.

Your stomach drops. The chord progression is soft, a little unfamiliar. It’s not one of your tracks, or a part of the agreed setlist.

Your gaze snapes to the center of the stage where Mydei stands—guitar in hand, face calm. He’s adjusted his mic, and he’s… smiling? Not a grin. Nothing cocky. Just this small, quiet thing, like he’s doing something that matters to him more than he’s ready to admit.

“This one’s not on the list,” he says into the mic, casual, like this doesn’t upend everything. “I wanted to try something new tonight.”

Your brow furrows. You step a little closer, careful not to draw a scene. Castorice gives you a sharp look from behind her kit, like, Did you know about this? You shake your head once.

Mydei starts to sing.

“You look at me like I’m your only song, And I play the part even when it feels wrong.”

It hits you like a punch to the ribs.

That lyric. That exact line. You know it because you wrote it, alone. In that hotel room weeks ago, scrawled in a burst of emotion you weren’t proud of, folded up and shoved into the pocket of your sweatpants. You’d thought it got tossed in the wash or lost somewhere in the shuffle between cities.

Apparently not. Apparently he found it. And instead of asking you—like a normal person would—he set it to music. He built a melody around your bleeding heart and decided to sing it to a crowd of thousands.

“We’re tangled and twisted and never the same, We love like it hurts and kiss through the pain. You’re poison and honey and everything wrong, And I hate that you’re still the one I want.”

It’s a beautiful melody, and you feel something inside your chest twist, hard. He sings softly but unsteadily, like he wasn’t sure that you’d hear it—or worse, that you would.

He doesn’t look at you while he sings. He scans the crowd, eyes on the horizon. But the meaning is clear. You can feel it in the tightness in your chest, in the hush that’s fallen over the audience, like they know this isn’t just a love song.

You fold your arms over your chest, more for grounding than anything. Castorice doesn’t play a beat. Hyacine and Phainon watch silently, hands loose on their instruments like they’re ready to jump in if needed, but they don’t. Neither of you do.

This is his moment, and your words.

“You look at me like I’m the one you’ve been missing, Kiss me like I’m the dream you keep wishing Would come true when the lights fade away— But you never stay.”

You exhale shakily. You feel exposed, as if you’re standing naked in front of an entire arena. The words weren’t just lyrics—they were confessions. Grudges. Regrets. Things you never had the guts to say out loud. And here Mydei is, saying them for you.

No. Singing them.

Your fingers curl into your palms. You don’t know whether to be furious or deeply, deeply moved.

He finishes the song in a whisper, almost. The last chord rings out like an unanswered question. The audience is silent for a beat too long. Then they erupt—whistling, cheering, screaming. It’s a standing ovation for something they didn’t even know was a story.

And still, Mydei hasn’t looked at you—until now.

He turns, finally, just a little, and meets your eyes across the stage. You don’t smile. You don’t clap. You just stare at him, speechless and conflicted.

Then, Mydei steps back from the mic and gives the signal to move on with the set. You turn your face away before the next lights come up, blinking hard. Your heart’s racing. You don’t know what happens after this; what this means; what you’re supposed to say.

You only know one thing: That song was yours, and now, it’s his, too.

The hallway outside the dressing rooms is buzzing—crew rushing around, the muffled roar of the crowd still seeping through the walls, someone shouting about cords and lights and encores. But all you can hear is the blood in your ears and your name echoing in Mydei’s voice as he sang your lyrics.

His voice, but your words. Your heart on a scrap of paper you never meant for anyone else to see.

Your footsteps are harsh against the floor as you turn the corner and push the door open. The dressing room is too bright, too sterile compared to the intimacy of the stage. Mydei stands with his back to you, shirt clinging to his skin with sweat, hair pushed off his forehead like he ran his fingers through it too many times.

You close the door behind you with a click. Quiet, but final. He hears it.

“Hey,” he says, not turning around yet.

You stare at the back of his head. “Don’t do that to me.”

Mydei pauses. Slowly, he turns to face you. “I figured you’d be mad.”

“Mad?” You laugh, breath catching somewhere in your throat. “You think I’m mad?”

“You look mad.”

“I am mad,” you snap, taking a step closer, heart pounding. “You sang a song you weren’t supposed to have. You didn’t even ask me, Mydei. You just—just stood there and threw it at me in front of ten thousand people like it meant nothing.”

“It didn’t mean nothing,” he says. “That’s why I sang it.”

You’re both quiet. The silence stretches and tightens until it’s almost unbearable.

“You could’ve told me,” you say finally, voice hoarse. “You could’ve talked to me. About the song. About anything. But you don’t. You never do.”

Mydei exhales slowly, resting his hands on his hips like he’s bracing himself. “I didn’t know how.”

You tilt your head, lips parting in disbelief. “That’s such bullshit, Mydei. We wrote songs together. We told each other everything through music. And now you’re just—standing there, acting like it’s some impossible thing.”

He looks at you, then. Really looks. And for a moment, he’s not the cold, distant version of himself he’s been for months. He’s just him. The boy who used to fall asleep beside you in the tour van. The one who hummed half-finished melodies in your ear at midnight in whatever motel you were crashing in. The one who used to kiss you like the world might end before morning.

“I didn’t know how to say I missed you,” he admits. “So I used your words instead. Because mine never come out right.”

You don’t want to forgive him. You really don’t.

But the hurt in his voice is real. So is the way he’s looking at you—like you’ve always been the only person in the room, and he’s just been waiting to see you again for real.

You take one shaky step forward. Then another.

When your lips crash into his, it isn’t careful or slow. It’s everything you’ve been holding back: Rage, longing, grief, hope. His hands find your face, yours grip his shirt, and everything around you blurs until it’s just him, just the warmth of his mouth and the softness of his sighs and the undeniable truth that this still feels like home.

You part, breathless.

Neither of you speaks at first. You’re still close enough to feel his breath on your cheek, the heat of his skin under your fingertips.

Your voice comes out quieter than you intend when you tell him, “I want to get you back.”

Mydei doesn’t hesitate. “You already have.”

It hits you harder than the kiss did. Something cracks inside you—something small and soft and long-buried. You almost don’t realise you’re crying until he wipes your cheek with the back of his hand.

You let out a breath, something between a laugh and a sob. “I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.” His thumb traces the edge of your jaw. “You’re allowed to be.”

You step back first, gently. He lets you go, but his eyes follow you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he blinks.

As you adjust your jacket and run a hand through your hair, something slips from your pocket—folded paper, creased from being handled too many times. You don’t notice, but Mydei does.

He kneels to pick it up after you’re gone, quietly unfolding it to find another unfinished song. Lyrics in your handwriting. His name, half-crossed out and rewritten three times.

He reads the first line. Smiles.

He doesn’t hand it back to you. He tucks it into his jacket, like he already knows how it ends.

[CUT TO BLACK] Text appears on screen: “Chrysos Heirs: The Reunion Tour. THE END.”

⇢ a/n: as per usual, thank you to @lotusteabag for being my #1 cheerleader and supporter throughout the entire time i was writing this fic. thank you for reading & i hope you have a wonderful day!

#mydei x reader #mydei x you #mydei fluff #mydei smut #mydeimos x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr smut #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #mydei x y/n

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butterymangowrites · 6 months ago

Text

ten years in the making

paring: bakugou katsuki x fem reader

warnings: smut, non-con/dub-con, no-quirks au, high school love confession, unrequited love turned very requited, almost non-con threesome, feels like cheating (but technically not), no cheating though, fuck boi bakugou, pining reader, obsessive/possessive bakugou, running away, biting, marking, creampie, breeding kink, angst, toxic relationship

word count: 6.2k

You still had the love letter you handed to him when you were both in high school. His spiky blonde hair was pretty under the spring sun, red eyes examining the envelope in your hands with a disgusted look on his face.

On the rooftop of the school building, the wind blew extra hard. The chill of winter that lingered in the breeze made your face cold, but it was the rejection from Katsuki that numbed your whole body.

“Take that shit away,” he sneered. “Be lame somewhere else. I don’t like you.”

It was pathetic how you fixated on him because he helped you once from a petty thief who tried to steal your wallet. You shouldn’t have liked him that much, not when he was so clear in his stance on how he felt about you. But you were also just a girl, and girls had crushes on Bakugou Katsuki—you were just one of many, but no doubt the most pathetic one.

Cause while others grew out of their crushes eventually, you did not. And Katsuki, being the spawn of the devil that he was, started to see you as some sort of entertainment.

You followed him through university, enrolling in the same one. You begged your mom to stay at a dorm near campus, the same dorm Katsuki told you he would stay in. He lied. You knew on the moving day because he texted you photos of his new place from the front of the building to the room with an obviously different layout.

The text said, ‘lol you really thought u got me huh?’

That sentence needed commas, and you… needed to get a grip. Yet, you did not.

Still trying to be close to him, you went to every party he went to, even if it meant you had to see him with a different woman each time. He never stuck with one, telling you he was easily bored and that was why you and him would never happen. Because you were a soppy, hopeless romantic who would wait for him like a dog waiting for its owner to come home—his words.

“When will it get through your thick skull, dog?” Katsuki rapped on your forehead with his knuckles. “You’re not my type.”

Well, his type exited the room just now, leaving only you and a very naked Katsuki in it. He loomed over you menacingly close, trying once again to talk some sense into you, albeit in a very mean fashion. Tonight, he was particularly cruel. After texting you to buy him a box of condoms—stating a specific brand, flavor, and size—he made you sit and watch until the very end.

You pretended to pay attention, but what you really looked at was the wall behind the scene playing in front of you.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at ten.” You changed the subject, ignoring his hot breath that fanned over your face.

“Yeah, mom misses you like hell,” he jeered. “How did you do it, inserting yourself into my family?”

It was simple, actually, just offering to drive him home for a monthly family visit with a gift for his mom and dad every time, without fail, even though he got his own car. His mom, Mitsuki, never trusted his driving skills anyway, saying he was too reckless. So she was grateful for you, to the point of inviting you over for dinner as thanks whenever you dropped her son home, and you accepted the kindness.

Katsuki would roll his eyes, but he let it all happen, cause why would he say no to a personal chauffeur? All he had to do was sit prettily and blast his one-hour playlist until the car was parked in front of his childhood abode. And after eating and helping with the dishes, you would be gone, back to your own family house a couple of streets away—convenient.

You knew you were just a tool to Katsuki, his lackey, but you were also as stubborn as a mule.

And as dumb as a clown…

After many years hounding for Katsuki’s attention, you finally got it when you were both twenty five. The first time he kissed you, he was drunk in your apartment. He was frustrated with a colleague who screwed up an important meeting with a potential client and decided to come rant your ears off with two packs of beer—one for him, one for you.

You never thought the night would end up with him pinning you to the floor, his mouth devouring yours and his hands popping the buttons of your work shirt until your bra-clad tits showed.

“Thought you would follow me anywhere,” said Katsuki, red eyes locked onto you from where he was, face nestled between the soft mounds of your breasts. “But you chose a different company, live far away from me, texting seven times in seven months. Traitor.”

“You’re heavy.” Your words struggled to come out. From when he used to be lanky and the same height as you, he was none of that now. The growth spurt hit him like a freight train. In the blink of an eye, he grew into a giant of a man, tall and filled with muscles, even more so now that he was in his salaryman era. You wondered how he still found time to work out as often as he did when you barely caught any sleep.

After graduation, you both landed jobs in different companies. And if you were being honest with yourself, you would say the reason you accepted the offer was partly because running after Katsuki and answering his every beck and call started to… tire you. Forced by duty and responsibility, it helped you distance yourself away from him. Cause Lord, you doubted you could have done it on your own.

Getting his text today saying he would come visit, you were dumbfounded, even thinking it was a joke til you got another text an hour later saying he arrived.

You shouldn’t have let him in, shouldn’t have reconnected. You were almost off the noose before he came and adjusted the knot, tightening it. After that night, he came visit once a week on Friday. Kisses slowly evolved into soft touches, then heavy petting, and finally—sex.

Fucking your brain out, that was what he did most of the times, leaving your ass red and face wet from crying. On rare occasions, it was slow, deep, like he wanted to mold you into the shape of his cock. But all was intense, asking for eye contact and name-saying, and it was Katsuki who did the asking, which surprised you to no end.

“You wanna come home? Mom and dad miss you,” mumbled Katsuki one autumn night. It had been three months since that first drunken kiss. “They got a new dog. But old people are always lonely, hell knows why.”

With that, not only him, but the monthly visit returned, too.

Their dog was a loudmouthed chihuahua named Katsumi. It barked at you non-stop from the moment you got out of the car, louder when Mitsuki raced out the front door to hug you. After dinner, it found you and Katsuki in the laundry room with its master’s teeth nibbling down your neck and barked snappily, making Katsuki jump.

When you let out a roar of laughter, his eyes widened with a look of what seemed like wonder. His pupils dilated when he leaned down to take your lips in a fierce kiss. For a moment, everything was perfect.

Had you mentioned being dumb?

A month later, there was a knock on your door. Katsuki hips slowed down mid-pounding before he stepped back from you and the bed, leaving you empty.

“Keep your ass up. Don’t fucking move.”

You only let out a soft hum as a response, not understanding why or who would be here at this hour. Were you too loud? Maybe someone was here to complain. You pondered, face still down against the soft mattress with your rear up as instructed. Katsuki would handle them, whoever they were.

“Well, I see why you never call anymore, Katsuki-kun.”

The voice was close, too close—its owner was in the bedroom with you. When the realization hit, you bolted, shooting out of your position and scooting back, all the while pulling the duvet up to shield your nakedness from the newcomer’s eyes.

She was a woman about your age and height, standing at the foot of the bed in a skimpy dress.

“Do me a favor. Shut the fuck up,” said Katsuki, confirming they really did know each other.

It was like your brain stopped functioning. You saw Katsuki walking towards you but was too slow to think what your next move should be. So you let him pull you to him by the duvet because you wouldn’t let go of it. When he sat you on his lap, you felt something wet gliding down your cheeks.

“Hush now, princess.” He wiped the dripping drops with both of his thumbs. “You seriously thought our relationship was exclusive? You thought you fixed me?”

Another set of fat tears cascaded down when he kissed you, seasoning the kiss salty.

“Seven months, seven texts, no calls,” he said. “Who do you think you fucking are, leaving me like that?”

You knew, you knew it was too good to be true. And when he turned to the other side to kiss the woman who was now naked and sitting on the bed—your bed–beside him, you also knew it was time to let go. The silly crush, the well-kept love letter, the admiration that you should have weaned off long ago—they all needed to go.

Getting up from his lap while he was distracted, you gathered your clothes off the floor and left the bedroom without turning back. You got dressed in the living room and closed the front door silently when you left the apartment. You didn’t want him to hear, not wanting to cause a scene, not wanting to see him anymore.

You were sitting in the car in the apartment parking lot, trying to find a hotel to crash at when you got a text from Katsuki.

‘you thought you got me huh?’

You blocked him.

There was only a month left on your apartment’s lease; you would give a notice to your landlord tomorrow that you would move. Everything would be alright, you told yourself. Katsuki might never bother you anymore since he had got what he wanted—your absolute humiliation.

It was different from that one time he told you to stay and watch him rail the life out of that girl when you were in college. At that time, you knew you were nothing to him, knew he did that to hurt you. This time, you thought you were something to him. And it hurt, a thousand times worse to realize that you weren’t, and that he still wanted to hurt you.

—

Shit, shit, shit, shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Those were the only words spinning around in his head since you were gone, really gone. You walked out of that door so fucking demurely. Even when he stopped kissing his ex-booty call to listen, he didn’t hear you wail or see you come crawling back.

So he texted, leaving the girl he called here to demean you to quickly type on his phone. When the message was marked ‘read’ but got no response, he cursed, “Fuck!”

“Come on, Katsuki-kun. Let’s have some fun,” the girl whined.

“Sh!” He shushed her, still tapping the screen.

She probably looked at him like he was possessed by an evil spirit, but he couldn’t care less.

‘Who did you think you were? My gf? Lol.’

He was so in a hurry he forgot to type in lowercase.

‘Lovesick foll’

‘*fool’

‘Where u going’

‘Dont wanna watch’

‘?’

You didn’t read at all except for the first text. That made him get off the bed and get dressed, running out of the apartment to punch the elevator down to the first floor. When he exited the building, your sedan was already on the street; he saw the taillights, remembered the plate. It got farther in each second that passed, and there was not a darn thing he could do about it.

Fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck shit, fucking fuck.

For some reason he knew, this time, you were gone for good. Not an absence the next day at school after he told you he lost his virginity to some girl in another class, not the seven months with a few texts to check in with him. This time, it was for good.

Like hell he was gonna let that happen.

—

You ended up staying at the hotel for a week, scared Katsuki might still be lurking around. While you knew he got his biggest fill of breaking you this time, you wanted to be sure. Then, as soon as you found a new place, you moved out.

At work, you asked your boss, Aizawa, for a transfer to another branch, telling him it was for personal reasons. You swore you saw him squint his weary eyes, but after asking you a couple more questions, he agreed nonetheless.

“If it were stress, it’d be no different in another branch. Hope you know that,” Aizawa drawled.

“I do, sir,” you replied, tired from the poor quality of sleep your situation and the hotel bed gave you.

“And as soon as possible, you say?”

“Yes, sir,” you affirmed. “Please.”

The transfer was done in one week, all thanks to your boss.

Restarting your mundane life, it took two months for you to regain some sort of peace found in everyday’s routine—waking up, going to work, coming home, sleeping, waking up again. There was no contact from Katsuki, only the ghost of his taunts that came hand in hand with the memories of his caresses you could not dispel remained, making guilt creep up your spine every time you touched yourself to climax imagining it was his hand.

You would find someone else. You and Katsuki, it was ten years in the making. You were fifteen years old on that rooftop, confessing to a boy you thought was the most beautiful person in the world, having no clue how your action would play out. It would not be possible to banish those ten years in two months, no matter how despicable he was to you. And that was a shame.

It took one phone call from Mitsuki to disrupt your normalcy.

“I just wanted to know how you were doing, honey.” said Katsuki’s mom, sounding worried. “It’s just—you’re gone again, like those months. And Katsuki won’t tell me what’s going on, which means something must have happened. I need to—I—”

She was trying to find words, and you didn’t want to interrupt.

“I need to know you’re okay.” She finally let it out. “Just come visit, honey. You don’t have to bring my son.”

“We miss you.”

It was those words that brought you to the Bakugou house the following weekend.

“Oh, honey.” Misuki stopped before you, eyeing you from head to toe. Katsumi barked incessantly, all the while trying to sniff the bag of fresh-baked cookies you bought for the family. When the woman beckoned you to come close and enfolded you in her arms, you teared up a bit.

“That airhead of a son,” the older woman grumbled.

Getting in the house thwarted all the cold delightfully. You put your coat on the couch next to where you sat, waiting for the tea Mitsuki said she was going to get. You always liked the Bakugou house, asking Katsuki to walk him home every day just to see it from the outside. He never let you in. Ironically enough, it was never him who invited you in, it was his mom.

Where was Mitsuki now? You looked around for the matriarch, but instead, you saw Katsuki.

“About time you showed up.”

There was so much fighting, so much push and pull, and trying to run away, and crying for help; yet, no one came. Katsuki had to carry you on his shoulder to go upstairs because you resisted profusely and refused to walk on your own.

Door closed, lock clicked. A second later, you were dropped on his bed unceremoniously. You had never been in his room before and didn’t want to now. But since there was no choice, you took the opportunity to look around, taking everything in.

His room was so… boy. A drum set in one corner, an expensive-looking gaming PC in another with a shelf filled with mangas and action figures next to it, posters of his favorite anime character plastering all over the walls.

You remembered he liked All Might, the blonde-haired hero from a shonen manga you didn’t read but knew every detail from Katsuki’s ceaseless babble. You even broke into your savings buying a dozen raffle tickets till you won the big prize—a large figure he said he was saving up for—and gave it to him as a birthday present.

He probably didn’t keep it.

“Don’t be mad at mom, okay? I was on my knees begging her for help. That was on me,” Katsuki spoke softly, as if he was trying not to spook you. “Old hag hit me so hard dad had to intervene. But I’m her son. You understand, right? She would never abandon me.”

It was him between you and the door; you just needed to get past him, unlock the door and run. Slowly, you got out of the bed to stand on your own feet. The moment they touched the floor, however, was brief. Because Katsuki leaped from where he stood, taking him only two strides before he got you again.

Back on the bed, you fought him tooth and nail, punching, kicking, biting, while he tried to sedate you with a soothing voice. But there was nothing soothing or gentle about this man—a monster. You saw through him.

His grip on your wrists was immovable, anchoring you to the bed with one hand. He caged your body with his, examining you like a predator sizing up its prey, his presence all domineering, demanding obedience.

“Shhh, settle down. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he coaxed.

“Let me go!”

All you could move now was your legs, which you did to your best ability, but to no avail. Katsuki waited it out, allowing you to try however you want to get away without saying anything. Eventually, you stilled, so exhausted you couldn't move anymore.

“There, there. That’s my good princess,” he murmured, his usual harsh features softening.

Frustration brought tears to your eyes. It took less than you thought, easier than expected, to suck it all up and spill everything that occupied your mind.

“What do you want? What do you want from me, Katsuki? I'm sorry I confessed to you that day. It was pathetic. I was pathetic. But please—please.” Your voice got hoarse and lost at the second please. You had to cough to get it back. “I have learned my lesson. You and me, it will never happen—will never work out. I know that now. I get it, believe me, I do,” you choked through your tears, pleading. “I won't like you anymore, Katsuki, so please—let me go.”

“Like me?” he reiterated. “I thought you loved me.”

“What?”

He sighed, his free hand searching for something in one of his sweatpants’ pockets. When he pulled his hand out, you saw a letter—the one you gave it to him and got rejected. All these years, it had been kept with you, safely in your trinket box. Now, it was in his hand, opened. He finally accepted it, but at what cost?

“I need you to read it to me,” he commanded, “out loud.”

“Please, don’t make me do this.”

“Listen,” he said. “I’m going to let go of your wrists and give you this letter that you wrote for me, and you’re going to read it—word—for—word.” He used the envelope to brush down the bridge of your nose. “If you tear it up—if you do, princess—I’m going to make you rewrite it. And it better be as good, if not better, than this one.”

He let go of your wrists and gave you the letter.

“Oh, and if you run,” he added. “I’ll catch you, and we start over. Clear?”

You nodded and took the envelope, hands shaking noticeably when you took the letter out. Everything was under Katsuki’s observation. He sat astride your thighs without putting all his weight on you, waiting patiently.

“To Katsuki, if you are reading this, that means you accepted my letter, thank you!” You wiped tears out of your eyes to see better. “I know you get a lot of letters like this. It must be a bit of a hassle reading love confessions everyday, right? But please bear with me, I will try to keep this—”

Interrupted, you looked past the letter and saw Katsuki lifting the hem of your sweater up and leaning down to place a kiss on your exposed stomach.

“Go on,” he prompted. “Don’t mind me. Don’t stop.”

“I will try to keep this short,” you continued, completing the last sentence, trying to ignore the fact that your jeans were being unbuttoned and pulled down. “You know, girls in our class often say they love your hair, your eyes, but a lot of them are scared of your personality.” You felt his breath through your panties, hot. “I disagree. I think you are nice, brave, and kind. And don’t get me wrong, I love your hair and eyes too.”

“You’re cute, baby,” said Katsuki as he pried your legs open. Without taking off the underwear, he licked your pussy through it.

“Katsuki!”

Dragging his tongue up, he mumbled, “Keep reading.”

“And I love you.” You read on and saw his eyes roll back at that specific sentence.

Suddenly, he switched from licking to sucking, making the crotch all wet with his saliva. You were preparing to read the next part when he made it all the more difficult by moving aside the damp fabric and rubbing his face into your naked cunt. His nose, lips, chin, all soaked in your embarrassing glossy juice. You cursed yourself for giving in, for getting wet.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

You let out a sob, raising the letter in your hands up again to read.

“I know we don’t know each other well, and this feeling is not reciprocated—”

Why did he have to slurp the juice like that? He made it hard, so hard for you.

“I’m—just a classmate after—all. But what I said, I said it with—a sincere—heart. So even if—you don’t love me back, please—let me keep—this feeling, I promise I—will treasure it.”

Panting sharply, you stopped before the next paragraph when you felt his tongue massaging your clit. Grasping his hair with both of your hands, you forgot you still held the letter. There was an audible scrunch when it was crumpled up in one of your fists.

Katsuki stopped dead in his tracks, glaring up from below; his red orbs seemed redder all of a sudden. “Did you just crumple the letter?”

You pulled your hands back quickly when you realized, strengthening out the paper as best as you could. The creases weren’t that bad. You showed it to him, ensuring that it was still intact.

He relaxed. You released a held breath.

Back to concentrating on the handwritten texts, this time, you vowed to not look at him anymore and would just just read through everything as fast as you could—getting it done. Nevertheless, when he was back on eating your pussy and pride out, it did not get easier, Katsuki still managed to make you writhe like your life depended on it.

“One more thing, I don’t know if you remember, but thank you for—saving me that day in front of the mini mart.” You tried to recall the event, the beginning of everything. “The thief would have—hurt me, and I would have lost—my wallet.”

And it was just that, just you trying to yank your wallet back from the thief's hands, the popsicle you just bought lying on the ground, melting. The store staff was on the phone with the police—you heard it—but they didn’t come out. Katsuki did.

When the thief was about to lay his hand on you, the blonde haired boy whom you recognized as your classmate kicked him in the shin. Moving fast, Katsuki then slammed his school backpack on the thief’s head, once, twice, thrice, on and on until he knocked him out.

“You were my hero.” You read the last sentence, finishing the letter as he finished you.

You set the paper down on your side, finally freed from the evidence of your teenage self’s stupidity. Feeling weightless from the orgasm, all you could do was stare at the ceiling. After what felt like forever, Katsuki appeared in your field of vision, hovering over you, now shirtless… and pantless. You weren’t aware when he took them off, too lost in your own world.

“You can't just stop loving me,” he said before bending down to kiss your cheek, then whispered, “Take responsibility. Be true to your words, dumbass.”

“Katsuki, you’re being selfish.” You turned your face away, fleeing him.

His red eyes sharpened. “After all this time you have showered me with love and attention, and you want to—take it away?”

“There will be others who love you and give you all the attention you need,” you argued. “I’m not that person.”

“No! Fucking no! Shut up!” he barked, turning your face back to him and silencing you with a kiss.

Even with the heater warming up the room, the cold air that seeped through the walls and windows still reached your naked form. After being rid of your sweater, bra, and drenched panties, the only warmth you could find was from Katsuki’s body. And he made sure to share it with you so generously.

Pain after pain, bite after bite. Katsuki would not stop no matter how desperately you begged him to. Your skin was his canvas, not only your neck, but your cheeks, breasts, belly, arms, thighs, calves; they were tender and hurt to touch. You would have to refrain yourself from looking into the mirror for too long, maybe. Luckily it was winter, this way, nobody would bat an eye if you covered yourself up like it was minus twenty celsius.

“I’m gonna fuck you raw, okay? Haven’t fucked anyone since you left. You gotta take care of me, princess.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” you returned. “You fucked that girl.”

And it still hurt just thinking about it.

“Did not.”

Even so, had he gone mad? He sounded like it. Wearing condoms was the strictest rule of his when it came to sex. As far as you knew, he never broke it once, not for anyone, not for you. But you could be wrong—you didn’t want to—because now, he actually looked eager to go through with it, fucking you bareback.

Too risky, too intimate.

“You’ll regret it. Please just—think before you act.”

Trying to reason with Katsuki, you also attempted to move away. Big mistake. Catching you by your thighs, he forced himself closer and wrapped your legs around his waist. Then, he placed his unshielded cock on your folds and pushed it down a bit for the head to slither in, just the tip, nothing more.

“Katsuki, no!”

“Katsuki, yes,” he said, mockingly, and shoved it all in.

—

The bed shook and squeaked annoyingly from how hard he rammed into your tight weeping hole, but the moans you were trying, but not so successfully, to suppress were so adorable he was able to overlook it and focus on you instead. He never knew his bed did this, never brought anyone home to fuck before.

He almost spilled in the first five minutes, having to slow down to prolong the feeling of being wrapped and rubbed by a pussy, skin to skin. And you—lying there with your brows frowned and tits bouncing—did not help shit. Trying feebly to push him away when he swooped down for a kiss only stirred up his excitement, making him go rougher until you gasped and gave in.

What a soft and tempting little lamb you were. He wanted to brand you with his cum and give you his fucking name, knocking you up with a couple of brats for you and him to take to school and hear a teacher address you as Mrs. Bakugou with his own ears.

Since the day you handed him that letter, you had never been anyone else’s but his. Must have been fate, he didn’t know, didn’t care about a what-if either. His only regret was that he could have had a taste of you sooner, but he would call it a story arc and leave it at that—he had you now anyway.

“Say my name, princess,” he demanded.

“Kat—suki.”

“Again.”

“Katsuki!”

This was worth it. The tirade of rebuke his mom delivered to his ears and the smacks on the head while saying she never taught him to be like this when he came clean about what he did to you—all was worth it.

“I’ll get her back, mom,” Katsuki convinced. “We’ll get her back.”

“You better.”

It was convenient that his mom already liked you as if you were the one who popped out of her vagina and not him. Well, they were the same in that aspect. Who would have thought it would come to this day, the day he wanted to trap you in his home, when just a decade earlier, he would never have had the slightest idea of granting you the permission to step past the front gate.

“She’s a good kid,” his mom commented. “The same girl who walked you home and bought you that All Might figure, no?”

“Yeah.” Katsuki rolled his eyes.

“Aha.”

“Will you help me or not?” he asked, irritated. He had been kneeling at her feet for like fifteen minutes.

“Watch your tone, boy.” Mitsuki’s voice hardened. His dad’s hand over her shoulder rubbed gently to calm her quick temper down.

“Tch!”

The tiny mutt chose that moment to strut into the living room, stealing his mom’s attention. She leaned down to pick it up and put it on her lap. It looked down at him, tongue lolling out of its mouth. Conceited little fucker.

“You know why I named her Katsumi, Katsuki?”

“Oh, don’t give me that shit.”

“Katsuki,” his dad said in a reprimanding tone.

“She reminds me of you, angry for no reason, always bark, bark, bark. It gets lonely around here, so why not.” Mitsuki smiled, scratching her new child’s head. “And you—remind me of her.”

Katsuki squinted his eyes, kinda knew where this was going.

“A dog, waiting for its owner to come home.”

She was not wrong.

“Yes, I will help you, son.”

A series of bangs on the door broke through the memory and his euphoria. He just came, hard, pouring his pent-up, ripe seeds far up your cunt, and someone wanted to butt in now? Katsuki huffed, but refused to get up and find out who wanted what, dead set on keeping you plugged up.

Another rapping on the door, then a voice followed. “That’s enough, Katsuki. Let the poor thing out.”

Of course, it had to be his mom.

“Go away, hag.”

“Bakugou Katsuki!”

“We’ll be out!”

Just not now. He omitted, and it worked. Mitsuki carried a string of grumbles and footsteps with her, leaving nothing behind. Katsuki turned to you, still under him, in time to see you avert your gaze away. Cute.

“Can I go now?” you asked.

“No.” He changed positions, turning over onto his back and getting you on top of him, cock still snug inside your walls. He hoped he didn’t spill a single drop.

“Katsuki, I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“Then don’t, baby.”

“I can’t live like this. Please”—you pleaded with your eyes—“don't hurt me anymore.”

He couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart at your frail tone. Looking at you, he saw a woman with dark rings under her eyes, beautiful, but she looked like she had seen better days—a stark contrast to the girl who held out a letter towards him on that spring day, wind in her hair, kindness abundant enough to share.

Before he knew it, words were out of his mouth. “I wish I had hurt you less.”

It would not have been possible for him to not hurt you at all. He knew himself well enough to believe otherwise. He also knew, for certain, how he would like the story to go.

“Do you still love me? Like you wrote in that letter.” he whispered. “Am I still your hero, princess?”

“You don’t”—you gritted your teeth—“have the right to ask me those questions.”

“I’ll be yours. I want to.” And fuck, he really did, just thinking about it woke his flaccid cock up, rigid again inside of you. Putting his hands on both of your asscheeks, he grinded you up and down. “Do you still love me?”

You kept quiet, unyielding, only small, faint gasps could be heard.

“Guess that’s not important.” Katsuki decided. “I’ll keep you first—fuck the answer out of you later.”

Panic flashed upon your expression at his declaration, and gasps turned into lustful whimpers when he started slamming your hips up and down his erect shaft.

“How long are you gonna make me wait? A year? A decade? As revenge, maybe?” He took your sweet mouth, hand pressing down the nape of your neck to keep it still. “House will be full of brats by then, but take your time, princess.”

“This will never work out. It won’t. It won’t,” you cried, shutting your eyes tight. “I can’t share you.”

Katsuki didn’t know why, but you not wanting to share him was sexy as shit. The mere thought of sharing you, however, made him want to put something on fire. Was this jealousy people were talking about? It burnt like a bitch.

“Who said anything about sharing?” he grunted, slapping your jouncing ass, making you squeal. “And this goes both ways, princess. Don’t think I would let anyone touch you.”

He was pissed just imagining it, which was nowhere near healthy, but who wanted that. He just wanted you, in any way he possibly could.

“I’m—I’m gonna come,” you spluttered, convulsing around him.

“That’s it. Come on my cock, baby. Make your man proud.”

Your velvety walls tightened, constricting his cock and milking it when ropes of cum shot out.

Sucked dry and spent, Katsuki closed his eyes and tried to rein in his breath. When he reopened them, it was to check if you were still with him—you were, resting on his chest with one cheek against it. Out of cuteness aggression, he pinched the other side.

You let out a short screech. “That hurt!”

The thought of marking you reared its head, biting where it hadn’t been bitten yet, hurting you a little more. But he stifled it, saving it for later.

Steering himself to another matter, he said, “You never texted me back.”

“I blocked you.”

“Figured.” Katsuki nodded.

“Deserved.”

“Unblock me.”

You sighed.

—

The messages wouldn’t go through even if you unblocked him. That was how the application worked, which was fine with him. Scrolling through the one-sided chat, he could sense urgency and desperation through each letter, and some messages actually sounded mental. It would be for the best if you didn’t see them.

‘Answer’

‘i didn’t fuck her, she left. Now fucking answer’

‘come back, i wont be mad. where u at.’

‘I am still at your apartment, u. didn’t come back. where r u’

‘i fucking found your letter. i’ll find u too’

“You—kept my present?”

Katsuki looked up from his phone to your towel-swathed form, fresh out of the shower. Following your line of sight, he was directed to the bottom of the bookshelf where an All Might figure was set—his seventeenth birthday present from you. It was one of his top favorites, but he would never tell you that.

“I’m not stupid enough to throw things I like away, I’ll have you know.” He scowled and went back to scrolling on his phone.

‘so u moved away huh?’

‘need you. don’t wanna fuck my hand anymore :(’

‘never mind, bitch’

‘u love me huh?’

‘Pathetic’

‘didnt mean that’

‘need u’

‘i'm an attention seeking whore who abuses your love to get the validation i want.’

‘sorry’

‘there i said it.’

‘now come back’

Yeah, you didn’t have to know any of that.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou #tw.breeding

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samaraxmorgan · 7 months ago

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Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time He Sabotaged My Date”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: yandere(ish)!Sukuna, fluff but he’s kinda very toxic, stalking, fem implied reader (wearing a dress and heels), brief mention of a bomb (there aren’t any bombs present), narration is from Sukuna’s POV

Word Count: 1.78k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Whoever decided this dingy shithole is a decent place to take you on a date should be fucking shot.

Maybe it was wrong of Sukuna to eavesdrop on your private conversation this morning, but in his defense you were talking on the phone loud as hell in the middle of the living room. Should’ve been quieter when you were telling your friend about the date you had planned for tonight.

And maybe it’s weird that Sukuna secretly followed you here to keep an eye on you, but it’s not like he has nefarious intentions. He’s heard of this place and one, it’s fucking gross, and two, it’s got one hell of a reputation to say the least. Definitely the kind of place for someone to get murdered, he’s just watching out for your safety!

Oh christs sake, who is he fooling? No, he followed you here because he’ll be damned if you get a boyfriend.

He feels like a creep, sitting at the bar behind your table in a black hoodie and an old baseball cap, eyes fixed on the back of your head. The guy sitting across from you is so bland, yet for some reason you’re still giggling and twirling your hair around your finger as if you don’t know that you can do so much better.

There was no need for you to doll yourself up for this fuckin’ loser; you’ve got on a pretty red dress and stiletto heels, probably anticipating him to take you somewhere nice, decent, at least. But he brought you to some run down shithole restaurant that hasn’t been renovated since the 70’s and is definitely bearing several health code violations. It’s honestly embarrassing, Sukuna would take you somewhere so much nicer than this, he knows what you deserve.

He’s been sitting at the bar sipping on his drink for the last half hour, watching the way you prop your elbow onto the table, cross your legs in your seat, tap your heel against the leg of your chair, listening to you laugh and chat about your job. Meanwhile, mister nobody in front of you is chewing with his mouth open like some kind of ape, not realizing how much of a privilege he has by being able to treat you to dinner. Un-fucking-believable.

Finally the moment he’s been waiting for happens. Bland And Boring stands up from his seat and leaves you at the table to go use the restroom, so now it’s time for Sukuna to get this fool away from you. His eyes follow the man as he walks past the bar, not even trying to be discreet. He gives Sukuna a quick glance and nods his head politely, making his way towards the bathrooms near the front of the restaurant.

There’s no time to waste.

Sukuna stands from his seat at the bar, trailing behind your date and following him into the bathroom. As the door clicks shut behind him he realizes that it’s just the two of them. Perfect, no interruptions.

He walks up behind the man, watching him through the large mirror above the sinks. Now that he’s up close he can really see how pathetic this guy is, nervously looking up towards Sukuna as he absolutely towers above him, his stature menacing and the look in his eyes bordering on deadly.

“D-do you need some-”

“You should leave.” Your date jumps at the sound of Sukuna’s voice; dark, deep, and serious.

“Um… why?” His eyes flicker around the room, definitely praying to whatever god he believes in to come save him.

Sukuna is surprised he isn’t immediately obeying. Has he grown soft? Surely not, this guy just needs a little extra push.

So Sukuna says the first thing that comes into mind.

“I have a bomb.”

Maybe that’s a little dramatic, but god damn does it do the trick. The guy looks like he’s about to fucking piss himself, eyes widening in terror as he quickly nods his head and runs out of the restaurant.

Sukuna keeps a keen eye on him through the windows, watching him nearly leap into his car and hearing the tires screech as he speeds out of the parking lot. It seems you also had an eye on your date, your jaw nearly dropping to the floor as you assumed that he just ditched you with the bill.

Now’s his time to shine.

He stuffs his hat into the front pocket of his hoodie and strides up behind you to your table, bending down to be eye level with you in the booth and putting on his best mildly surprised and kind of amused expression, “Well look at that.”

“Ugh, god.” You bury your face into your hands, “And here I thought my day couldn’t get any worse.”

He can’t help the smirk that grows on his face. It is his fault you’re in this situation, but I mean come on, that guy was no good for you anyway. “You sample the whole fuckin’ menu or something?”

You groan and roll your eyes, perfect, you took the bait, “I just got dine and dashed, asshole.”

Sukuna lets out a laugh as he flops down into the seat across from you, god if only you knew. A man would have to be a real idiot to stand you up, but he has to try and keep his act together, “Yeah? Guys are fuckin’ assholes, surprise.”

The pout on your face is too sweet, makes it hard for him to really feel bad, “I was really liking him too.”

Oh, he definitely doesn’t feel bad now. He pulls his card out of his wallet as the waitress approaches the table, handing it off to her nonchalantly as he continues the conversation, “Don’t know why you bother going on dates with these guys.”

You try to interject the waitress but she walks away before you can stop her, a defeated frown pulling down your lips, “What are you doing here anyway?”

He plops his elbow onto the table, shrugging his shoulders casually, “What? Am I not allowed to go to my favorite shitty restaurant?”

You perk up slightly, “Right? I saw a roach on the way in, I can’t believe he recommended this place.”

The waitress comes back and hands Sukuna his card, he quickly scribbles his signature on the receipt and stands from his seat at the booth, “Let’s get you out of here before you get ringworm or some shit, nasty fuckin’ place.”

Finally a smile creeps onto your face, lighting up the dreary atmosphere. You adjust your dress as you stand up and he can’t help but smirk at how good you look all dolled up, dark red dress hugging your figure as if you wore it for him. He leads you out of the restaurant, making sure to hold the door open for you since he noticed that your loser date let it slam in your face on your way in.

Droplets of rain were starting to sprinkle down, which is pretty unlucky considering it’s a ten minute walk back to the apartment. But that’s not a problem for Sukuna, if anything it’s a perfect opportunity. He catches the frown curling down your pouty lips as you fix your fingers through your nicely styled hair, probably trying to keep it from getting messed up, and without missing a beat he pulls his hoodie off, sliding it over your head and down your arms.

“I’m sure you spent hours dolling yourself up, would hate to ruin it.” His voice is smooth as butter, leaning down to eye level with you as he adjusts the hood to make sure your hair is covered.

A blush creeps onto your face, mumbling a quiet “Thank you” as you pull your arms through the sleeves. It honestly looks like you’re drowning in his massive hoodie, the sleeves too long for your arms that your fingers can’t even peek out and the hem at the bottom falling at your upper thighs.

Sukuna thought you looked good in that red dress, but god damn you look heavenly wearing his clothes. Why didn’t he do this sooner?

You both start to walk down the sidewalk to the apartment, the evening is quiet save for the muffled sounds of music and chatter coming from the bars and restaurants that you pass by. You’re walking right up against his side, your arm occasionally brushing against his and he can’t help but wonder if you’re getting closer on purpose.

Sukuna breaks the peaceful silence, “So was the food good at least?”

You look up towards him quizzically, squinting your eyes in a way that’s too fucking cute for him to handle, “Shouldn’t you be the expert?”

“Why t’fuck would I know? Never been there.”

“I thought that was your favorite shitty restaurant?”

Oops.

He got way too distracted looking into your pretty eyes. Lucky for him, he didn’t need to come up with an excuse to cover him because a loud snap rings through the air as you stumble forward. His arm quickly wraps around your waist to steady you before you can fall, holding you flush against him.

You look down at your feet and let out a loud groan of frustration, “Fucks sake, really?” You lift your foot up to inspect your shoe, your stiletto heel barely dangling by a thread as it snapped off from the sole.

Sukuna didn’t mean to laugh, but there was no containing it. You look up at him with an adorable angry face, cheeks burning red as you curse him out and it only makes him smile more. You’re just too damn cute when you’re pissed off.

“It’s not funny! These were expensive!”

“Yeah yeah, c’mere.” His arm stays wrapped around your waist as he leans down and hooks his other arm behind your knees, lifting you off the ground with ease as you squeal in surprise and wrap your arms around his neck to cling onto him.

Now he could bet that other guy wouldn’t do this for you, not just was he scrawny as all hell but he wouldn’t be nearly enough of a gentleman. Your arms tighten around the back of Sukuna’s neck as he starts walking to the apartment again, your cheek nuzzled against his shoulder as you slowly relax into his hold. He’s actually liking this a lot, silently considering purposely taking a wrong turn on the way home so he can hold you longer.

Hopefully after this you’ll stop going on stupid dates with worthless men, you’ve already got everything you could ever want right at home after all. Soon enough you’ll realize that you don’t need anyone but him.

A/N: This was SO FUN to write!! I love him he’s such an asshole askakksksk, I rlly liked the idea of doing a light hearted yandere part (even tho NOBODY asked for this skaksksk) Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

#once again I am writing Sukuna pov and I am NOT sorry about it #I think every time I write his POV I make him crazier askskams #my writing #nav ryomen sukuna #roommate Sukuna au #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #Sukuna #ryomen sukuna #Sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk modern au

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byuntrash101 · 1 year ago

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big bad wolf

f!reader x bangchan ft. stray kids smut | mdni 2.6k maybe you bit off more than you could chew when you hyped up your game to the campus’ infamous big dick owner nsfw tags under the cut

#5: huge dick + size kink (twt p☆rnlink) college!au, toxic ex bf!minho, frat boy!bangchan, alcohol consumption, one night stand, explicit consent asked and given, chan is really a tease, gentle dom!chan, daddy kink (i mean we're talking about chan here) , size kink (reader is smaller than chan), huge monster cock!bangchan, size training, protected sex (good job), oral (f), multiple orgasms, some humor at the end ♡

a/n : i was like this 🥴🥴🥴 writing this because ughhh im in love with this bangchan! wanna see the other entries for the event? check out the link <3

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“I mean being single is great and all” you said while downing the rest of the ungodly cocktail your best friend mixed for you earlier at the party. Before she left with Jisung. “But like I miss the toxic sex, ya know?” Christopher nodded his head while he took the empty cup from your hand to set it at the table beside the both of you on the couch.

The party was over so to speak. Everyone had left or was just passed out on random surfaces all over the frat. ΝΣΒ (nu sigma beta) was the frat that organized the best parties on campus. Well the second best parties but ΩΔΦ (omega delta phi) had Minho going to their parties and well you were finally over him that wasn't to run into him at a random party to drink and hook up with him again. You were determined to break free of the destructive cycle. That’s how you came to attend the parties here and met Christopher and his frat bros Changbin and Jisung. These three were quite the trio. Well not right now because Jisung was probably fucking your best friend somewhere and Changbin was passed out over the keg. Only Christopher remained somewhat (if not entirely) sober. He didn’t like alcohol that much, he claimed.

“Yeah I get you dude. Toxic sex is the best…” Christopher sighed. “But why though?”

“I don’t know man!” you said with a pout. “Also my ex was like… packing” the alcohol in your system was making it harder to perceive the fine line between sharing past experiences and simply oversharing. But Christopher wasn’t phased by it at all. On the contrary he was… intrigued.

“Really?” He questioned.

“Bro, he was real big. Like real big.” you said, closing your eyes trying to recall the extraordinary appendix Minho was blessed with. “The biggest I’ve ever seen really. I just miss that…” you said, finally opening your eyes again, purposefully avoiding thinking about your ex’s devil dick for too long before you drunkenly run to the other side of campus and to him again. When you open your eyes you see Christopher looking at you with an indecipherable expression.

“Well yeah. I miss someone that’s used to dealing with guys that are on the bigger end of the spectrum” Christopher was speaking very carefully, he was very clearly trying to hint at something but at the same time he didn’t want to come off as pressing or bragging.

You raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” you asked as neutral as you could be, but still picking up on Christopher’s hint.

“Well you know. Girls always say it’s what they want. But like when I pull it out they either just run away or I mean they pull through but I can tell they’re not enjoying it. So I usually cut things short.”

It’s true you heard one or two rumors about Christopher also being on the bigger end but you never paid attention to them. Now, they were suddenly running back to you.

“I just wanna be with a girl that's kinky and that you know… just enjoys herself with me”

Suddenly you were looking at him differently. You looked at his big biceps resting crossed over his chest and the sleeveless loose fitted white top. He was wearing a cap that covered his soft brown curls but they were still peaking at the back of his head and around his reddened ears.

All of a sudden you were painfully conscious of Chris’ sheer size. Even though he was simply sitting next to you his large sturdy shoulders occupied the space on the couch. You found your eyes wandering to his lower half where his muscular thighs generously filled the black basketball shorts. And eventually your gaze wandered to his groin where you did notice a particularly remarkable bulge.

“You know, bro?” Chris took off the cap briefly, combing his hair with one large hand before flipping it backwards and patting it back on. He looked a little bit frustrated.

“Yeah I get it.”

Silence settled.

“Looks like we could like… help each other… maybe” you started carefully. That was uncharted territories, you didn’t know how Chris was going to react but you were a little intoxicated and that made you forget about the consequences or more like postpone thinking about them. You’ll do that tomorrow.

A cocky smirk spread on Chris’ face. An expression you had yet to witness. Usually he was all about wholesome smiles and cute laughs. But this one, this expression stirred excitement and thrill within you.

“Wanna see the big bad wolf?” Chan said right before sending you a cheeky wink that left you speechless. Before he started laughing out loud and lightly pushed you on the arm. “Just messing with you” Chris said, returning to the sunny smile.

“Why are you all cocky for anyway?” you outbid. “I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t seen” you said, shrugging, eyes a little defiant. And Chris’ smirked returned to his handsome face just as quick. He felt a tingle in his lower half. He enjoyed that attitude you had right now. Wouldn’t it be fun to make you swallow those words? Amongst other things…

“Think you can handle it, babygirl?” Chan said, extending his massive arm behind your head on the couch and leaning on to you, making you feel even smaller. You took a whiff of his cologne, the alluring aromas or vanilla, cedar and citrus casting a spell on you.

“Yeah of course I can” you said, steady voice oozing all the confidence in the world. Making Chris chuckle again.

***

Well maybe you couldn’t…

That is what you thought when Christopher dragged you to his room as the early rays of the dawning sun were licking the blinds.

“Having second thoughts, babygirl?” Christopher said, smiling down at you while you looked up at him and sat on his bed. The loose fitting top was all he had left on him. Even the cap was now littering the ground, letting the soft brown curls loose. and you silently thanked the heavens for this. Maybe if he would have been completely nude you would have died right there.

He was absolutely breathtaking: large shoulders, thick arms and veiny forearms going down to his big hand holding the absolute monster that usually peacefully rested between his sturdy thighs. But right now it was awakened, and awaiting.

The thing was not only incredibly massive but also unbelievably long. Thick veins ornamented the length of it from the base to the red and dripping tip.

“So am I bigger than your ex?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Um, yeah a little bit I think”

Lie. Big fat lie.

Christopher knew that. He knew that very well but he appreciated that you kept up with that act. He found that amusing.

“Perfect! Let’s get started then”

“What?” you said as he wrapped his warm hands around both your wrists, gently pushing you down on the mattress until you laid there with only your feet hanging off the bed. He put your wrists at each side of your face, laying his weight over you. He was heavy, but it was comforting, reassuring. You felt small but also safe under him. The heat from his body ignited a fire within you.

“Don’t worry babygirl” Chris whispered leaning into your ear. You felt his hot breath fanning your burning cheek. “Daddy will get you nice and ready for him.” You felt yourself flutter at the name. You were definitely responding to it.

Christopher licked big swipe on your ear making your breath itch in your throat and you bit your lip to repress a moan. Fortunately you didn’t have to think about it too much because Chris kissed you instantly, one of his hands leaving your wrist to wrap around your throat, his thumb pulling on your chin to open your mouth. You didn’t fight back, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tasted sweet, like energy drinks and tropical fruit juice. Now you knew for sure he was completely sober. But Chris, on the other hand, wasn't so sure anymore, because he sure felt drunk right now. Drunk in you, in this kiss. He threw himself into you, moaning in your mouth as you arched your back and he rolled his hips into you, pressing his hard cock onto your hip.

Before you could think too much about it Chris stripped you of your clothes, one article after the other until you found yourself completely exposed to him. Chris got up and took a step back to admire your body under the rays of the sun piercing through the blinds. You were gorgeous, stunning and he couldn’t wait to finally be inside you.

He then pulled on your hips to bring you on the edge of the bed where he kneeled on the ground and gently parted your legs.

“Fuckk” he cursed under his breath when he saw your cute little pussy already glistening with need and lightly twitching. He only wanted one thing: to taste you. So he did.

He first laid a gentle kiss on your clit which made you jolt up and he smirked against you in satisfaction.

“Awww baby. Are you always this sensitive or is it daddy doing that to you?” He licked a large stripe from your entrance to your clit, staying there for a second giving more attention to the sensitive bud.

“F-fuckkk. No it’s y-you” you breathed in, arching your back and fisting the sheets beneath you. “Daddy is doing this to m-me”

Christopher felt his heavy length jump just as the mention of the word in your mouth, it sounded so fucking good, so fucking sexy. It made him want to please you, be good for you.

He licked and swirled his tongue on your swollen bud earning more moans and pants from you. Until your cunt was throbbing against his lips and your heart was beating in your ears.

“Im… Fuck… gonna c-cum” you said lifting your face to see Christopher looking up at you from between your thighs.

“Go ahead baby. Cum for daddy”

You came undone at the end of his tongue, your walls fluttering around nothing, thick slick gushing out of you and covering Chris’ face.

“God fuck.. don’t- s-stop” you begged, tensing up your legs and your orgasm ripped through you. Chris didn't stop there, instead he gradually slowed down to help you down your high at your own rhythm.

“Fuckkk... Please daddy I need you inside me” you said looking at him. And he got back on his feet again. With disconcerting ease he grabbed you at the hips and flipped you on your stomach and lifted you so you were on all fours.

He reached for his night stand where he took out of one of the drawers a condom and tore the wrapper hastily.

“Was hoping you’d say that babygirl”

As soon as the condom was on he brought his tip to your soaked and fluttering little hole. You were feeling desperately empty and you wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of Chris’ big fat cock. You wiggled your hips to urge him to fill you up.

“Are you ready baby?” he asked, making sure one last time you were still on board.

“Yess daddy.. Yes please. Don't make me beg” You said, despair dripping from your lips. And Christopher resisted the urge to do just that. Maybe another time.

He started to push his huge cock inside you and you braced yourself feeling your walls expand beyond belief to accommodate the thick and hard length. Very slowly Chris continued to progress inside you. You gritted your teeth, fisting the sheet even harder and exhaling a faint complaint.

“It’s okay baby. You can do it. Big breaths, ok?” Chris encouraged you before continuing.

Thanks to Chris’ prepping, the pain was bearable. Now you didn't even have a single shadow of a doubt left. Chris was indeed bigger than Minho.

Soon enough he managed to push the whole monstrous thing inside you.

“There you go baby” Chris said gently stroking your back. “That’s my good girl. Say when daddy can move okay, darling?” he laid a soft kiss to the crown of your back, his voice appeared to be somewhat strained. Your tightness was also hard to handle on his part.

“Ok” you huffed quietly.

You took a couple of seconds to get used to him but eventually the pain disappeared.

“You… can move”

Slowly Chris started to pull out only to push right back in when his tip was just barely hinging in.

“Oh- fuckfuckfuck” you panted.

“You’re doing so good, baby. So good for daddy” Chris said, pulling out once again.

He repeated the process until he felt you relax around him and the sharp breaths and sighs turned into moans and whines.

“Fuckk so… so fucking big” you said arching your back while Chirs’ big hands wrapped around your waist to pull you back on his cock everytime he was pushing in.

“Fuck your little cunt is so wet and tight for me baby”

“Hmmm daddy” you whined. “Please faster”

“Fuck so fucking naughty” he said as started to fuck you faster, deeper, dragging your precious nectar on his cock and making you moan louder.

“Fuck I won’t last long baby”

“Pleasepleaseplease daddy I'm almost there”

Chris circled your hip and brought two fingers to rub circles on your clit, you threw your head back, completely letting go of the last bit of sanity you had left. Chris felt you throbbing around his cock.

“Fuck daddy…I'm cumminggg”

“That's it cum for daddy” Chris said, his voice was strained as he felt you flutter around him, urging him to let got. Spurts of hot cum rushed into the condom as he hips became erratic, as continuously fucked into you until you were both satifed and out of breath.

You collapsed and he rolled next to you, taking the condom off and tying it before rushing to the bathroom and returning with a warm towel and handing it to you.

“Fuck that was… amazing” he told you with a bright smile that you knew.

“So you like being called daddy? Now I understand why you’re into kinky girls.” you said, raising an eyebrow, teasingly.

“Oh– Hm.. well. Yeah… sorry it was like in the heat of the moment” he scratched the side of his face before ruffling his brown curls.

“Oh don't worry about it. I liked it”

“We should like.. do that again sometimes… I mean if you're down”

It’s funny how he started all cocky and confident and now he was the one stumbling on his words and being flustered. You found that cute.

“Yeah we should”

“CHRIS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???” You heard Jisung’s loud voice coming from the hall. “WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR PRACTICE” He fumbled with the door handle. “WHY IS YOUR DOOR CLOSED?”

“Get the fuck out Jisung. I’m busy” Chris said and you giggled.

“Bro, I think he’s fucking someone in there” Jisung said, this time to someone else.

“OI, MATE WHO’S IN THERE WITH YOU?? IS IT Y/N??” Felix’ unmistakably low voice asked.

“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT“ Chris shouted.

“Fuck… I think you made him mad.” Felix said.

“Bro how the fuck is it me? You the one who insisted” You heard the two voices getting further.

“Don’t pay attention to them” Chris said and you both laughed and went back to bed, to get a well deserved couple of hours of sleep before a day full of college classes.

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a/n: thanks for reading babe if you enjoyed reblig or leave a comment because delulu is the solulu <3

#bangchan smut #bangchan #christopher bang #skz smut #skz #stray kids #stray kids smut #bangchan x reader #bangchan stray kids #bangchan x you #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x female reader #kpop smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #bangchan hard thoughts #bangchan hard hours

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someonegoood · 2 months ago

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SUTURES & SCARS part 1 ✫ jeon jungkook

CONTAINS: medical!au, surgeon!jungkook x surgeon!reader, slow burn, teasing, mutual pining, enemies to lovers, fighting turned bonding, past and present love, fluff & angst :)

NOTE: well... i'm back with a medical!au inspired by doctor slump (that drama was so good omg). thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoy it!! this work is not revised, and english is not my first language. next part will be uploaded tomorrow!!

my main masterlist! ❀ comment to be on the taglist!

taglist 🩺 @senaqsstuff @jjkluver7 @lovingkoalaface @khadeeeeej @pipipipiiiii @jungkooksmytype @jkxlvrr @whoa-jo @anemonatae @iviamagatitos @nerdycheol @thelilbutifulthings @banana-creampie @beomluvrr @user-190811 @mar-lo-pap @jiminismine4ever @boringmichelle @marilo11 @jenniebyrubies @littlestarstinyseven @kooeuphoria @rayyrayy10 @moonchild1 <3

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4.

You weren’t supposed to be here.

This hospital—one of the most prestigious medical institutions in the country—was never meant to be your landing place. It had a reputation for being exclusive, only taking in the most skilled and accomplished doctors. Under normal circumstances, your application wouldn’t have even made it past the first round. But these weren’t normal circumstances.

They were desperate.

A sudden shortage of doctors had left the trauma surgery department scrambling to find specialists who could take on the relentless workload. And that’s how you, despite not being part of their initial selection, had been handed a contract at the last minute.

Still, there was no warm welcome waiting for you. Your arrival hadn’t been met with admiration or respect. Most of the staff knew exactly who you were—not because of your surgical skills, not because of your work ethic, but because of that video.

The one that had gone viral.

A single moment of frustration, caught on camera and spread across the internet like wildfire.

At your last hospital, you had been drowning. The shifts were relentless, the expectations impossible. No matter how many hours you put in, no matter how many patients you saved, it was never enough. Your superior—an arrogant, self-important man who treated younger doctors like disposable tools—had pushed you too far.

And you had snapped.

You hadn’t planned for your voice to carry across the entire ward. You hadn’t expected someone to be filming. And you certainly hadn’t expected the clip to be uploaded with captions like "Doctor Stands Up to Toxic Work Culture!" and "She Said What We All Wanted To Say!"

But that’s exactly what happened.

You had told your superior—bluntly, unapologetically—that you were tired of being exploited. That working 36-hour shifts with no breaks wasn’t a sign of dedication, it was a sign of systemic failure. That no matter how much you loved medicine, you wouldn’t let yourself be crushed under its weight.

The words had barely left your mouth before his furious response had followed: “if you think you’re so indispensable, why don’t you find somewhere else to work?”

So you did.

Or at least, you tried.

But the video followed you. Some people admired your courage, others saw you as reckless, unprofessional. A liability. Your name was whispered in hospital halls, passed around in hushed conversations. Respected institutions suddenly had no available positions when your application landed on their desks.

Still, you told yourself it didn’t matter. This was a fresh start. You would put your head down, do your job, and prove that you belonged here. But then, of course, there was him.

Jeon Jungkook.

The person who had, at one point, made you want to pull your hair out in medical school. There had always been a gap between you and Jungkook. A space carved not just by time but by opportunity. It started with the entrance exam.

You had worked yourself to the bone, studying until the words blurred together, until caffeine barely kept you functional. And yet, no matter how hard you pushed yourself, Jungkook had ranked higher. He had scored near the top effortlessly, securing his place in the best medical program without breaking a sweat.

While you had to fight for your place every step of the way, Jungkook had walked through the doors like he belonged there.

And, to be fair—maybe he did.

His talent was undeniable. He was the kind of doctor who made procedures look easy, who had an instinct for trauma surgery that couldn’t be taught. But that wasn’t the only reason people gravitated toward him.

It was his face.

The moment Jungkook entered the medical field, his reputation exploded. Patients wanted to be treated by him, some even exaggerating their conditions just for the chance to see him in person. His name spread through social media—the handsome trauma surgeon, the genius doctor who looks like he walked out of a magazine.

You had seen the way people looked at him, how his mere presence commanded attention. And deep down, you hated to admit that you understood why. Because you remembered a time before all of this.

Before the fame. Before the Dr. Jeon Jungkook reputation had taken over.

You remembered late-night study sessions when he was just an annoyingly competitive classmate, back when you were both just students fighting to survive. Back when there was no distance between you. Back when he was just... Jungkook.

And now?

Now, you stood in the same hospital, both specialists in trauma surgery. But while Jungkook had been welcomed with open arms from the beginning, you had barely made it in. You were a last-minute addition, a second choice.

And worse?

He probably didn’t even care.

Maybe he didn’t even remember.

The trauma surgery unit was the kind of place that didn’t allow for distractions. It demanded focus, precision, and expertise. Every decision counted. Every second mattered. That’s why Jeon Jungkook thrived here.

He was respected, no, admired, for his technical skill. But if there was one thing Jungkook lacked, it was an emotional connection to his work. He could save a life with a steady hand and a clear mind, but when it came to anything beyond that, his walls were impenetrable. He’d spent years cultivating that distance—after all, trauma surgery wasn’t the place for sentiment.

The day he returned to the hospital after an extended time away, it should’ve felt routine. But as soon as he walked into the trauma bay, something felt different.

The harsh fluorescent lights of the trauma surgery unit buzzed above, their hum a constant, almost soothing companion to the chaos unfolding below. The scent of sterile antiseptic mixed with the faint tang of blood in the air, and yet, Jungkook moved through it with practiced ease. This was familiar territory. The pressure, the critical patients, the intensity of saving lives—he thrived in it.

Yet today, there was a subtle undercurrent of tension he couldn’t quite shake off.

His gaze swept over the trauma bay, the usual clamor of activity surrounding him, but something felt off. The familiar presence of his colleagues was there, but it wasn’t until he stepped into the main OR corridor that he saw her.

You.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected to see you. The hospital was a big place, and you were a trauma surgeon now, just like him. You were bound to cross paths at some point. But the reality of it hit him all at once. His pulse quickened before he could stop it.

You—the one person who had always challenged him. Who had made him question his approach to everything. You were part of this team now. Not that he had expected anything less. You were brilliant, after all.

You, with your patient-centered approach, always thinking of the person beyond the injury, beyond the trauma. He’d never understood that about you. You were too empathetic, too invested in the stories of the people you saved. To him, it was all about the procedure, the perfection, the technical execution. The detachment was necessary. It kept him sharp.

You were standing by the operating table, your back to him. Your movements were fluid, efficient, as you spoke to a resident with the calm authority that had always been so effortless for you. You had a way of speaking, not loud, not commanding, but with such quiet conviction that it felt like everything you said was an undeniable truth.

His breath hitched in his throat. He hadn’t expected the old feelings to resurface so quickly. There had been years—six of them—between now and the last time he’d seen you. Six years since you had been his rival in medical school, six years since that fateful day when everything had changed.

When Jungkook first heard that a new surgeon was joining the trauma team, the thought barely registered—just another name on the roster, another doctor to either impress or ignore. But for a fleeting second, as he skimmed the email announcing the department’s newest addition, his mind had entertained a thought he hadn’t let in for years. What if it’s her?

It was ridiculous, really—he hadn’t seen you in so long that you’d become more of a memory than a real person.

But some part of him, buried under layers of pride and time, still remembered the way you used to challenge him, push him to be better, and make him feel something he never quite understood.

But here you were, looking the same as you had back then—composed, confident, untouchable.

As his eyes lingered on you, the noise of the trauma unit faded into the background. The beeping of machines, the rushed footsteps of nurses, the rustle of surgical gloves—all of it seemed to dissolve into a soft hum. He didn’t want to feel this way, but the old animosity—the rivalry that had always thrummed just beneath the surface—flickered back to life.

It had started innocently enough. You had been another medical student, just like him. The two of you had been assigned to the same rotations, but where Jungkook was determined to prove himself with hard work and sheer perseverance, you had a different approach. You made it seem easy. Effortless.

It wasn’t that he disliked you—it was the way you moved through everything. The way you never seemed to struggle, never seemed to fall behind. You were always ahead, always one step further. And no matter how much he tried, no matter how much effort he put into studying, it never felt like enough.

The real clash had come in the third year of medical school. Both of you had been assigned to the same trauma surgery rotation. The patient had been a young girl, barely seventeen, who had been in a car crash. Her injuries were grave—broken bones, internal bleeding, and a collapsed lung.

In the OR, there had been no room for egos. At least, that was what Jungkook had thought. But you, always calm, always calculated, had known exactly what to do. The attending had left the two of you in charge, and the moment you had stepped in, it was clear that you were taking control.

“I’ll handle the internal bleeding,” you had said, your voice soft but firm. Your eyes locked onto his, and he had felt something shift in the air, a small but undeniable challenge.

This was your first surgery in a while since the video. And now, standing in the operating room, hands steady despite the weight of everything that had led you here, you knew there was no room for mistakes. Not when everyone was watching. Not when he was watching.

Jungkook had felt his throat tighten. There was no way he was going to let you take over—not now, not after everything he had worked for.

“I’ll lead this one,” he had said, his voice tight, almost too tight.

You had raised an eyebrow, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Of course you will, doctor. But if you miss something, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Now, Jungkook tried to push the past from his mind as he walked back into the trauma bay. The noise of rushing footsteps, the shouts of nurses, the beeping of monitors all flooded back to him. He had a job to do, and he would do it perfectly, just as he always had.

But there you were, standing at the head of the patient’s bed, giving orders with that same calm, steady demeanor that always made him feel like a novice. Your presence was unmistakable, and though he told himself he didn’t care, the tightness in his chest said otherwise.

The OR was a chaotic, controlled madness. Every second counted, and every decision had to be precise. But even amidst the pressure of a life-or-death situation, there was one thing that always managed to break through: the undeniable clash between you and Jungkook.

The patient on the operating table had sustained severe trauma—a shattered femur, multiple fractures to the ribs, and internal bleeding. The first few minutes had been smooth, the team working together efficiently to stabilize her. But the situation had quickly escalated. She wasn’t responding to the fluids they had administered, and her vitals were dropping rapidly. Her blood pressure was dangerously low, and the internal bleeding was proving harder to control than they anticipated.

Instead, your eyes were on him. Watching him. Your gaze was sharp, almost like a challenge.

"Get the hemorrhage controlled," Jungkook ordered, his voice sharp as he focused on the screen displaying the vitals.

"I’m on it," you replied, stepping in to assist the anesthesiologist with stabilizing the airway, watching her oxygen levels as the other doctors worked on her fractures. There was a quiet efficiency to your movements. It was the same calm approach you’d had in medical school, the one that had driven Jungkook crazy all those years ago.

But this time, the two of you weren’t in sync.

You reached for a clotting agent, about to administer it, when Jungkook’s hand shot out to stop you.

“No, that’s not the first thing we should be using,” he said, his tone dismissive as he moved to the other side of the table. “Clotting agents aren’t going to solve this if we don’t address the internal bleeding first.”

You paused for a moment, the air thick with tension. “I know what I’m doing, Jeong-woo. We don’t need to delay any longer. Her vitals are crashing.”

“She’s not going to survive if we don’t control the internal bleeding first. You’re always looking for the quick fix, but you can’t just keep throwing medications at the problem and hope it’ll solve itself,” Jungkook shot back, his words sharp, his focus never wavering from the patient.

There was a small but noticeable pause before you spoke again, this time more firmly. “I’m not throwing anything at the problem. I’m trying to stabilize her enough so we can actually get to the root cause of the issue, instead of playing catch-up with her blood pressure. You’re too focused on your sterile approach, Jungkook. This isn’t about just getting it done—it’s about caring for the whole person.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “We are caring for the whole person, but we need to stop acting like we’re treating some emotional case. This is trauma surgery. We need to act fast and with precision, not waste time comforting a patient who’s already in critical condition.”

The words cut through the tension like a knife. It was always this way with you—compassionate, almost to a fault, and unwilling to see the raw practicality that Jungkook valued so highly in this field.

"You don’t understand," you said quietly, but there was an edge to your voice now. "It’s not just about speed, it’s about being mindful of the body’s limits. You’re not seeing the full picture here."

Jungkook took a deep breath, trying to rein in the rising irritation in his chest. He had always found your approach frustrating. The way you treated patients like emotional beings, rather than just cases to be solved. To him, it was a weakness, one that had no place in trauma surgery. This wasn’t some soft-care ward; it was a battlefield where the strongest survived.

“Your approach is too emotional,” he finally spat out, barely keeping his voice low enough for the team not to overhear. “You’re making decisions based on what you feel instead of what’s medically necessary.”

Your eyes narrowed as you shot him a look, but you didn’t let the argument show on your face. Instead, you focused on the patient, your hands still working with precision, despite the fact that you could feel every word he threw at you like a punch.

"We’re all in this for the same reason, Jungkook," you muttered, your voice unwavering. "The difference is, I’m not willing to sacrifice everything else for the sake of 'just getting it done.' I won’t lose my patients just because I’m trying to be quick and detached."

The tension was palpable. The air felt heavy, almost suffocating, but neither of you could back down. It wasn’t just professional pride at stake; it was something deeper—something that had started back in medical school, that simmered beneath every exchange. You were both experts, both brilliant in your own right, but the differences in how you viewed your profession were beginning to clash violently, both on and off the operating table.

The situation was growing worse, faster than anyone had anticipated. The patient’s blood pressure plummeted even further, and despite the efforts to control the bleeding, she was slipping away. The constant beeping of the monitors only intensified the pressure mounting on both of you.

“I’m telling you, we need to clamp the artery,” Jungkook said, frustration seeping into his voice now as he leaned over the patient’s abdomen. "We can’t waste any more time with these temporary fixes."

“No,” you retorted quickly, taking a step forward to assess the patient yourself. "She’s bleeding internally because her system can’t cope with the stress. Clamping the artery will only worsen the shock. I’m going to administer a vasopressor first to help stabilize her blood pressure before we do anything more invasive."

It was clear you weren’t backing down. Jungkook shot you a look—angry, dismissive—but he didn’t have the luxury of time to argue further. He had to act.

“Fine,” he muttered through clenched teeth, "But this better work."

You kept your gaze steady on the patient’s vitals, ignoring his sharp, biting criticism as you prepared the medication.

For a moment, the room fell into a tense silence, broken only by the sound of rapid beeping as the seconds ticked by.

Just as the situation began to spiral out of control, the anesthesiologist called out. The patient’s heart rate dropped drastically. It was now or never.

Without thinking, you and Jungkook moved in sync, both of you leaning over the patient, working together despite the tension that had been building all along. You shoved him aside just as his hand was about to clamp the artery, pushing your way in to apply the pressors. Your heart raced, your hands steady despite the heat of the moment.

And then, something happened. Amidst the frenzy, as you both fought to save the woman’s life, you found that the team was working together in a way that only you two could manage. Despite the constant bickering, despite the criticisms, you both knew how to make it work—however begrudgingly.

The crash didn’t happen. Slowly, the woman’s vitals began to stabilize.

Hours later, as the team was finishing up, you stood off to the side of the break room, your hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline. Your back was to the wall, and you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the tension that still buzzed through you.

Jungkook entered shortly after, a slight frown on his face as he grabbed a cup of coffee, his usual detached demeanor firmly in place. But as he took a seat, he couldn’t ignore the strange, lingering feeling that sat between you two. It wasn’t just rivalry anymore. It was... something else. Something unspoken.

He glanced at you briefly. “You did good,” he said, his voice unusually soft.

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you focused on your coffee, not daring to look at him directly. “You did too,” you replied, though it was more a formality than a compliment.

And yet, as you exchanged those words, both of you knew something had shifted. The rivalry hadn’t disappeared, but there was a quiet acknowledgment of each other’s strengths. A crack in the wall that had been between you for so long.

But neither of you was ready to confront it—not yet. Not while there was so much left to prove.

The conference room buzzed with quiet chatter as the trauma team assembled after the surgery. The air felt thick with unspoken words, the weight of the earlier tension hanging heavily over the room. Jungkook was already seated at the front, a posture that suggested his usual calm confidence, but even he couldn’t mask the storm that had been brewing throughout the surgery. His thoughts, his frustrations, still swirled around his mind like a whirlwind.

You walked in, the door clicking shut behind you, as you made your way to your seat. Conversations stilled, subtle glances exchanged across the room. They all knew. Knew about the video, about the controversy, about how you had barely made it into this hospital.

You could feel the weight of their curiosity, the silent judgment lingering in the air, as if waiting to see if you’d live up to your reputation—the surgeon with a sharp tongue and an even sharper fall from grace.

The rest of the team, quieter now, took their places, sensing the undercurrent of tension between you and Jungkook. Everyone had noticed the clashes earlier, but none of them dared to speak up. It wasn’t their place. Not now.

The meeting began. The attending physician, Ryuk Jinho, quickly moved through the cases, reviewing patient outcomes and discussing next steps. He started with a breakdown of the trauma cases from the past 24 hours, highlighting complications and successes.

“For the MVA patient from last night,” Jinho began, flipping through the reports, “the splenic rupture was managed well, though there was significant blood loss pre-op. Good call on prioritizing vascular control first.” His eyes skimmed the room before landing on you.

“But I’d like to discuss the choice of a non-operative approach for the hepatic injury. In cases like these, aggressive management can lead to better outcomes.”

“I don’t understand why you insisted on using pressors before the hemorrhage was under control,” Jungkook began, his voice cutting through the room like a knife. “It’s not an approach that works in trauma. You can’t stabilize someone with just medications when their vitals are crashing because of direct blood loss. You just don’t get it.”

You took a deep breath, meeting his eyes across the table. The weight of his words pressed on your chest, and though you’d spent years perfecting your ability to stay calm under pressure, something about his cold dismissal stung. He was so sure of himself. And the worst part was, he was doing this in front of everyone, as though it were a public spectacle, a way to undermine you.

“You think you know everything, don’t you?” you shot back, your voice firm, but just under the surface, there was the anger you’d been holding in. “I’m not the one who was about to clamp the artery without considering the bigger picture. You’ve been so wrapped up in your textbook approach that you didn’t even think about the patient’s whole condition. I don’t operate just on numbers and guidelines, Jungkook. I care about how they’re doing, not just what is happening.”

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, that look of cold detachment never leaving his face. He was used to people criticizing him. He had perfected the art of shrugging it off, of distancing himself from anything that wasn’t logical, wasn’t quantifiable.

“It’s easy to care about how when you don’t have to make the hard decisions,” he said dismissively, eyes narrowing. “You don’t even understand the weight of the responsibility. You think your feelings will save these patients, but it won’t. The reality is, if you don’t make decisions based on science, you won’t survive in trauma.”

The words cut deeper than you wanted to admit. For a moment, the room seemed to close in on you, the faces of your colleagues blurring as the anger flared within you. You weren’t just defending your methods anymore.

You were defending yourself.

“You don’t even know what it’s like to care,” you said, quieter now but laced with an emotion that surprised even you. “You hide behind your cold, sterile approach because it’s easier than facing the fact that these patients are people, not just cases to check off.”

A heavy silence settled over the room. The team—trauma surgeons like Dr. Min Jihoon, meticulous and composed; resident doctors like Seo Hana, always eager to prove herself; and interns who had barely gotten comfortable in the OR—froze in place, eyes darting between you and Jungkook. No one had ever spoken to him like that, not in this hospital.

Seo Hana shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her gaze flickering to Dr. Min, who remained impassive but was clearly intrigued. One of the interns swallowed hard, while another subtly leaned forward, as if waiting to see how Jungkook would react. Even Ryuk Jinho, who had seen his fair share of heated exchanges, looked taken aback.

Jungkook’s lips tightened, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he looked around the room as if challenging anyone to speak up or question him. His reputation as a skilled surgeon was unshakable, and he knew it. You, on the other hand, knew that no matter how good you were, your methods would never be enough in his eyes.

But there was more, wasn’t there? This wasn’t just a disagreement over how to treat a patient. This was deeper, rooted in something that had never been resolved. And just as you were about to respond, the attending physician called the meeting to a close.

Jinho raised a hand before the conversation escalated. “Both approaches have merit. In trauma surgery, decisions are made in seconds, and not every call is black and white. That said—” he looked between you and Jungkook, clearly aware of the tension crackling between you “—we need to focus on cohesive teamwork. Let’s move on.”

The three co-workers began to gather their things, heading out of the room, but you and Jungkook stayed behind, your hands gripping the edge of the table as you stared at the empty chairs in front of you.

You could feel Jungkook’s presence behind you, his posture still rigid, still exuding that coldness that had been a constant throughout your medical journey. And just as you felt like you couldn’t hold it in any longer, you turned to face him.

His expression remained unreadable, but you saw the hint of something in his eyes—a flicker of something that almost looked like regret, or maybe it was just frustration. Either way, you couldn’t hold back.

"I didn’t remember you were this cruel," you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. The weight of the statement hung heavily in the air between you, and you could see the immediate tension in his eyes as if the accusation had stung more than he cared to admit.

Jungkook’s gaze sharpened, but he said nothing at first, just standing there, like he was deciding how to respond. But you could see the walls he had built around himself, the ones he’d used to protect himself from feeling anything, crack ever so slightly.

“I’m not cruel,” he finally replied, his voice quieter now, but still firm. “I’m just... practical. It’s easier that way.”

You shook your head, trying to process everything in your head. “No, Jungkook. It’s easier to shut people out. Easier to treat everything like a puzzle, like you’re just solving a problem and not dealing with the consequences. That’s what makes you cold.”

He didn’t look at you, instead turning toward the door, but you caught the briefest flicker of something in his eyes. A crack in his armor. Something vulnerable, something you had never seen before.

“Maybe you’re right,” he muttered, almost as if he were speaking more to himself than to you. “But I can’t afford to be anything else.”

You didn’t have a response. Not for that.

The door clicked shut behind you as you walked into the apartment, your mind still reeling from the tense encounter with Jungkook earlier that day. The sound of laughter and chatter from the living room broke through the cloud of frustration hanging over you.

"Doctor, you’re back!" Coco called out from the couch, her voice upbeat as she kicked her feet up on the coffee table. She was sprawled out with a book in one hand and a can of soda in the other.

“About time, girl,” Aerum added, sitting next to Coco, already holding a bottle of soju and a bowl of Kimbap on the table between them. “We were just about to start without you.”

You couldn’t help but let out a tired sigh as you dropped your bag by the door, your shoes clicking on the hardwood floor as you made your way over to them. "Long first day," you muttered, sinking into the chair next to Aerum.

Coco grinned, reading the mood perfectly. “Let me guess. The ever-so-charming Jeon Jungkook is as insufferable as always?”

You laughed bitterly, running a hand through your hair as you thought about the morning’s events. "Worse," you admitted, accepting a beer from Aerum and leaning back against the couch. “I didn’t remember him being that cruel.”

Aerum raised an eyebrow as she grabbed a piece of Kimbap. “What happened?”

You took a sip of your beer, trying to calm the rising frustration. “We had a patient today. Pretty critical trauma case. It was bad, but we both... we were both working on it, and he just—” You paused, trying to put the words together. “He criticized every single thing I did. Like, everything.”

“Classic Jungkook,” Coco said, clearly not surprised. “He always did that back in med school. The whole ‘I’m right, you’re wrong’ attitude.”

You remembered a particular group assignment where Coco mentioned her interest in dermatology. He had scoffed, eyes narrowing as he leaned back in his chair. “Dermatology?” he had said, the tone dripping with condescension.

“You really think you’re going to make a difference in skin? It’s like choosing the easy route when everyone else is dealing with real, life-and-death stuff. You’re wasting your potential.” The way he said it, like her choice was somehow lesser, made your skin burn with frustration.

Aerum nodded, adding, “I don’t get how someone can be so brilliant but so… detached, you know? He’s like a robot with a scalpel. No warmth at all.”

Jungkook and Aerum, now a gynaecologist, had clashed during a highly competitive clinical rotation in obstetrics and gynecology. The tension between them escalated when they were both selected to perform a delicate procedure—an emergency C-section—on the same day.

You shook your head. “It’s like he’s too focused on just fixing the body and not looking at the bigger picture. It’s frustrating. He always acts like he knows everything. But today—today, it was like he didn’t even see the patient as a person.”

Coco scoffed, leaning forward to grab another Kimbap roll. “So, the ‘ice prince’ is still stuck in his ways, huh? He used to be the same in school, always acting like he had all the answers. But I remember—he’d never admit when he was wrong.”

"Yeah," you said, letting out a deep breath. "But what really got to me today was the way he shut me down in front of the entire team. It was like he was trying to make me look bad in front of everyone. Like he couldn’t even see what I was doing for what it was."

Aerum exchanged a look with Coco before turning back to you. "Isn’t it kind of funny though? The way you two still go at it after all these years."

“Funny?” You raised an eyebrow, half-amused and half-exasperated. "It’s infuriating."

Coco laughed, but there was a knowing look in her eyes. "No, seriously. The amount of chemistry there was between you two was honestly… ridiculous."

You choked on your beer a little, shooting her a glare. “What? I don’t—I mean, it’s not like that.”

Aerum smirked, leaning back in her seat. “Oh, please. You two were always at each other’s throats in med school, but it was obvious. We all saw it. You just refused to admit it.”

“Admit what?” you asked, now feeling like you were under a spotlight. “There’s nothing between us.”

Coco rolled her eyes. “Right, sure. Whatever you say. But back then, it was like you both thrived off being at each other’s throats.”

You shook your head. "He’s impossible!"

Aerum snickered. "Sure, whatever. But if you’re going to be miserable around him, at least admit that there’s something there."

You threw your hands up in mock frustration. "Okay, fine! Maybe there’s some kind of… I don’t know… tension between us. But it’s not like I want anything from him. He’s just… he's so cold and detached. There’s no way I could—"

“Please,” Coco interrupted, giving you a knowing look. “It’s obvious to anyone who’s ever seen you two together. You hate him, but you also can’t stand being apart from him. The minute he starts being a jerk to you, you snap back. But the minute he does something… even slightly kind, like today, you get all flustered.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes as you stared into your beer bottle. "I’m not flustered."

Aerum leaned in closer, her tone playful yet serious. “Look, girl, we’ve known you for a long time. We’re not saying you like him—at least, not in the way you think. But it’s clear that you’ve got something with him. Whether it’s hate, chemistry, or whatever else—it’s there. Don’t pretend it’s not.”

You felt a mix of irritation and disbelief. "I don’t even know what you’re talking about. You’re just imagining things."

Coco smirked, reaching for her drink. “Tell me this then: when’s the last time you’ve ever been this mad at someone and still wanted to talk to them afterwards?”

You went quiet for a moment, caught off guard by the question. “I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Sure,” Coco said with a raised eyebrow. “Keep telling yourself that.”

You groaned, dropping your head back against the couch. "I didn’t expect him to be like this. It’s been years, and I thought he’d changed. But now I feel like we’re back in med school again, and he’s still acting like the same insufferable guy he always was."

“Well,” Aerum said, her voice a bit more serious now, “he’s probably still carrying a lot of that same baggage. And honestly, I’m not sure it’s just a matter of work. The way he treats you—like you’re beneath him, or like he’s always trying to prove something—it’s so familiar.”

You felt a slight pang in your chest. "Maybe you're right. I just don’t know how to handle it anymore."

Coco nudged you gently. "You don’t have to handle anything. Just keep doing you—you’re brilliant. Don’t let him get inside your head."

Aerum grabbed another piece of Kimbap, her expression turning sly. “But if you ever decide to actually get close to him, just make sure to invite us to the wedding.”

Coco laughed, leaning over to grab her soju bottle. “Yeah, we want to be the first ones to know when it happens.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "You’re both ridiculous."

But despite the banter, you felt lighter. A bit of the weight that had settled on your shoulders after that surgery and the confrontation with Jungkook had lifted.

434 notes · View notes

queers-gambit · 1 year ago

Text

Adore Her, Dior Her

prompt: ( requested ) what good is having all that money if he can't spend it on the woman he loves?

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 4.3k+

warnings: author foams at the mouth for Mafia AUs, overwhelming fluff, cursing, not edited.

"That's the one. That's one we should get!"

"You've said that about the past three dresses, Buck!" You groaned, smoothing your hands over the skirt. "We need to narrow this down, okay? The wedding's in a month!"

"Why did we even agree to go?"

You glared, "'Cause we love my brother and we're supporting him."

"But she's just so - "

"Jen. Her name's Jen."

Bucky nodded, leaning back on the cushioned chair, "Well, Jen's just wrong for him. Literally the definition of toxic."

"Does it count if they're toxic together? To each other?" You sighed, standing on the pedestal and turning to look in the three mirrors beside the dressing room.

"Of course it does," he stood, buttoning his suit jacket out of habit. He approached you, head cocking as he looked your body up and down to get the full view of the gown you tried on. "You're really okay letting him marry her? Turn this way a bit, baby, lemme see the front."

You scoffed, but took his offered hand and twisted on the small platform towards him, "You were there at Christmas, he doesn't listen to reason. So, if Daniel's convinced Jen's for him, as his sister, my only job is be supportive."

"They literally abuse each other," he pointed out.

"Well, he's not changing his mind. Okay? It's been three years, he won't budge, whenever someone brings up them breaking up, he goes into hiding - so, I don't know what else I can do," your hands slapped your thighs when you shrugged, "except just be there for him. Now, focus, please, help me narrow a dress down."

He shook his head as you turned to face the mirrors again, "Actually, you know what? I don't think anything in this store is for us."

The attendant perked up and scurried over, rushing, "Oh, well, we have a much larger selection in the back, Mr. Barnes - "

"That won't be necessary, Barbra, thank you, though," he nodded. "Doll," his hand planted on your waist, head over your shoulder as you still looked yourself over in the mirrors, "go get changed, I know where we need to go."

"Bucky, no, there's plenty of options here," you argued, twisting on the wee little pedestal to face him again. "We don't need to drop a stack on a dress - "

"You let me worry about the price tag," he smirked, leaning in to peck your cheek. "Just go change, pretty girl, c'mon. Step-to!"

You offered Barbra, the attendant, an apologetic smile as you shuffled back into the changing room; quickly stripping from the dress. When you exited in your street clothes, Bucky was tipping the aged woman for her effort in gathering your options, but the moment he saw you, his hand was extending to hold yours tightly.

"What was wrong with that store?" You asked when you stepped onto the noisy and busy street to approach the sleek, tinted car Bucky drove for day-to-day errands.

"We're not shopping at David's fucking Bridal."

"You literally drove us here," you laughed.

"Yeah, and then I had a much better idea," he smirked at you, unlocking the car and opening your passenger door. "C'mon, princess, just gotta trust me."

"Last time you said that - "

"That wasn't my fault," he groaned, cheeks flaring red in embarrassment. When you opened your mouth to retort, he rushed, "Aht, nope, don't say shit. C'mon, I'm taking you somewhere special so get that pretty ass in the car."

He grinned when you laughed and did as bid, feet safely inside when he closed the door after you were settled. Bucky easily jogged around the back of his car, New York busy this time of year as traffic flew past on the street and forced Buck slow. He dropped into the driver's seat, sniffling slightly.

"Reminds me," Bucky smirked as he pulled onto the street, "how would you feel about us going to Aspen this winter?"

You sighed, "Why?"

"You wanna stay in New York for Christmas?"

"Well, yeah! It's so magical."

"Okay, so, we can go over New Years?"

You sighed, "You know, we don't have to go anywhere..."

"Sweetheart," he cleared his throat, "I actually have some business in Aspen, this will just help determine when I schedule the meetings for."

"Oh," you nodded slowly.

He sighed, "I know my job isn't orthodox, but business is business, right, sugar?”

"No, yeah, yeah, I get it. It sounds kinda nice, maybe we can go skiing."

"You know how to ski?"

"No, but I'm sure someone in Aspen could help teach me."

Bucky grinned. The drive was full of easy conversation, neither you nor Bucky dwelling on his business dealings, always feeling as if it was taboo given his station in the Mafia. So when he pulled up in front of a designer store, you gawked. "Now, if we can't find something here - "

"Um, absolutely not," you laughed. "Bucky, I can't even afford to walk into a place like that!"

"Good thing I'm paying," he smirked. He assisted you out of the car, tossing his keys to one of his security guards who had been following in a separate, tinted vehicle. When you both entered the dimly lit store, you were blown away by the gorgeous minimalist design; warm lighting, open floor space, and racks of different clothing options.

"Ah, Mr. Barnes! Hello, hello, hello!" A new attendant greeted with more enthusiasm than you would've greeted any of your clients, approaching you two. She shook your boyfriend's hand vigorously, "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, "Looking for a dress to wear to a wedding."

She offered you a forced smile, telling your boyfriend swiftly with her teeth on full display, "You came to the right spot!"

"See?" Bucky smirked at you. "All right, Valeria, what's first?"

Valeria waved you both onward to a private changing room, offering complimentary sparkling waters, coffees, teas - even offering to go retrieve anything you two would want from the Starbucks down the block. Valeria took your measurements and dress size, making idle chit-chat with Bucky and making it obvious he was a regular in the store, then scurrying off to collect an armful of options.

"This is - wow," you nodded in impression, petting the material of the display dresses hung along the wall.

"Like it?"

"It's growing on me," you eased with a small shrug, hearing Bucky chuckle and for his phone to chime. You perused the place as he became glued to the little device, sat in front of the dressing rooms.

Valeria returned with another attendant carrying coffees. "Right this way, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria directed you into a changing room, missing the giddy look you sent Bucky over your shoulder at being called his wife. "All right, so," she sighed, hanging up the dresses she selected, "I think these are modest enough for a wedding, but still glamorous to turn a few heads."

You hummed, "They're kinda short, don't know if that's the energy I want to be giving off at my brother's wedding."

"They'll fit differently once on but we can always accommodate," she assured, pulling one from the hanger. "Here we go," she assisted you, zipping you in and looking you over. "Oh, it's just darling on you! Look at that, not a single hair outta place, right?"

You giggled lightly, "It's certainly pretty."

"Shall we show Mr. Barnes?"

You nodded, following her out to reveal Bucky sitting on a plush loveseat, sipping his coffee. His eyes widened when he saw you, nodding, "Oh, yeah. This is what I'm talking about."

"Hush, we're only buying one."

His eyes rolled, "I'll buy the whole damn store if I want."

"You don't own it already? Hm," you teased, perking your brows.

"Keep sayin' shit, I'll cut a check right now - "

"Bucky," you tisked, moving to the runway mirrors. "It's a little tight, isn't it?"

"It's snug," Valeria agreed. "Is there a color scheme for the wedding?"

"Um," you paused, "I'm not sure - I just know it's in winter, like, in a month."

"Maybe a pretty powder blue?" She looked to Bucky, who nodded. "Or how about a pale green? Like an olive tone?"

"She looks gorgeous in anything," Bucky smirked from behind you, taking another pull of his coffee.

"What about that brown number?" You asked, ignoring the way his compliments made you feel like the only girl he's ever seen in the world.

"You have a very good eye, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria nodded. She asked her coworker to go find your size, taking you back into the dressing room. You narrowed down the options without changing again, not wanting anything black or dark since it was a wedding and not a funeral. Though, you knew Bucky would disagree.

You showed your boyfriend a pretty little green dress, but he shook his head. "I thought the black was nice," he told you.

"I'm not wearing black to a wedding," you laughed lightly. "It screams bad luck to me, don't you think?"

"Think it's more of a statement, sayin' the entire event is a sham and they shouldn't be doing this," Bucky snickered, the other attendant, Laura, returning with a pretty brown dress. "That satin?" He asked, rubbing the material when it was presented to you both.

"It's very fashionable now," Laura nodded, "and it's not too dark."

"Since when is it a rule to not wear dark colors to a wedding? I miss the memo?" Buck leaned back to his seat.

All three women offered him a small look, you chuckling under your breath before Valeria was leading you back into the changing room. "If I may, Mrs?" She spoke softly, "I've known Mr. Barnes for a number of years but he's never brought anyone into the store. Then, one day, he tells me he needs a new suit because the 'girl of his dreams' had agreed to a date, and every time since then?" She smiled softly at you, "He's sang your praises. I'm very honored you're trusting me with helping you today."

"Oh," you blinked in shock, giggling nervously, "well, thank you very much, Valeria, now I know why his suits are always top of the line." She waved you off, making you add, "And for the record, I'm not Mrs. Barnes, guess that'd be his mother, wouldn't it?"

"Oh," her eyes widened, gasping softly, "oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I just - he talks so highly about you - "

"No, it's okay, it's okay," you rushed, patting her arm. "I actually kind of like it..."

She hummed, zipping you into another dress, "You know, he's the reason my girl and I are together."

"Really? How'd that happen?"

Valeria chuckled, "He's very bold, your man. We were getting coffee one day, discussing his wardrobe for a business trip he had in Hong Kong, when my lady walked in. I went all silly and stupid, and Mr. Barnes just," she shook her head with a fond smile, "brazenly asked her out for me, in front of the whole shop."

"Oh, Jesus, yeah - sounds like him."

"Well, luckily, it worked, else I don't think he would've come back for my assistance. I was so embarrassed, you have no idea, but my lady - Charlie - thought it was charming and cute. Mr. Barnes hasn't let me live it down since. Says he demands an invite to the wedding." She met your eyes through the mirror, offering, "And I'd be really happy to give him a plus one, hmm?"

"You're so sweet," you whispered, turning to survey the dress. You spent the better part of three hours there, trying on dress after dress, nitpicking almost everything as you just weren't sure what to wear. Bucky wasn't much help, he just approved everything.

So, it was up to Valeria and Laura to help you; bringing out iPads and design books, trying to piece something together that best fit your comfort and the vibe of the wedding. You didn't want to look like a walking money bag since your family wasn't by any means wealthy, thinking it would be a slap to their faces since your boyfriend could spend his money without ever thinking about it. You didn't want to give your family any reason to talk behind your back.

"I like the brown satin," Laura offered softly, looking you over in the mirror. "But the blue is just wow, it really looks like it was made for you, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but I think the green compliments her eyes more," Valeria cocked her head in thought. "Are you wearing your hair up or down?"

"Up," you answered, trying to mimic the look by pulling your locks off your shoulders, "with thin jewelry, I think."

"Diamonds?"

"Pearls, if I can find a dress that looks nice with it," you smiled, seeing Bucky's reflection in the mirror watching you with a soft smile on his face; head titled in thought before his phone chimed again and warranted his attention. "Maybe we could try the pink dress?" You looked to the two women for an opinion.

"No," Valeria shook her head, "it washes you out. And pink in winter? Oh, sweetie, I'd lose my job if I let you leave here with that. Guess that means you'll have to come back in the spring, right?"

You grinned in response as Laura chimed in, "The green's actually really nice, but the brown looks much better with your body type." Then she turned to Bucky, prompting, "Mr. Barnes? Final decision - which dress?"

Bucky paused, musing, "Lemme see them all again, get one last taste. It's between the green and brown numbers?"

"Or the blue," Valeria nodded. "C'mon, sweetie," she offered her hand to help you off the wee runway you were perched on in front of the magnificent mirrors.

"You look sensational in them all, doll, how the hell am I supposed to choose just one?" Bucky teased, his canines on display from the broad grin that stretched his lips.

"You'll find a way," you answered.

"Awh, telling me Mr. Big-Tough-Manly-Business-Man who makes impossible decisions everyday can't choose a simple piece of fashion?" Valeria tacked on.

"You guys can't pick either!" He laughed, "And you do a helluva lot more shopping than I do!"

Laura, Valeria, and you paused to exchange looks, you pointing at Bucky and relenting in a drawl, "Touché."

When you were escorted back into the dressing room, Laura waiting outside the door for your privacy with Valeria, Bucky sat back on the plush loveseat and extended his one arm over the back of the seating. He smirked to himself, shaking his head as if in disbelief - but he was. Bucky was in disbelief.

How did a rugged Mob boss find himself here? Watching his girl like a private fashion show?

His whole life, all he knew was turmoil, pain, drama, and fear. He knew he would inherit his father's well-built organization after he passed and knew what this life would entail; having no preconceived notions about a quiet life. He knew he would have to be tougher than tough, adaptable, intelligent, and confident in his role as the head of the 3-6 Brooklyn Mob. Knowing the idea of a family was farfetched, knowing he'd never know the simple pleasures in life, that he would constantly be on the move - in-able to form real, sentimental, emotional connections. He knew, in this life, he'd remain alone for everyone's best interest and safety, indulging in a series of flings and one-off relationships that couldn't haunt him.

Yet they did. These encounters reminded Bucky how alone, how stranded, how isolated, how different he was. Instead of satisfying an unquenchable thirst, these fleeting partners became heavy anchors to Bucky's reality and reminded him that there was no such thing as love - nor was there any room or logic.

And then... He met you. Bucky's lips silently spread in a grin as he remembered meeting you at a bakery; purchasing the last slice of coconut cream pie to your absolute chagrin. He thought you were gorgeous, something ethereal and unobtainable; authentic, raw, and unfiltered - things his one night stands could never measure up to. So, he offered you the slice of pie if it meant giving him your number as currency.

After that, it was impossible for Bucky to consider ever being alone again because you were the sun; center of the universe that drew everyone into your orbit. He was smitten, content, excited to date you, turned on by the fact you had no idea who he was - a rare occurrence in the city. You were pure as fresh snow; sweet, kind, affectionate, attentive, and borderline overly empathetic.

Bucky knew he was in love with you after only a few weeks when he had shown up at your apartment, dripping in blood. You didn't panic like he feared you would, just checked up and down the hallway before yanking him into your home. You cleaned him up, tending to wounds, offering a safe space for him to relax in; making mindless conversation to help distract him from the pain he endured.

And now? Now, Bucky was sat in Dior, giving his opinion on your wedding guest dress; wondering how he allowed himself to get to this point of being domestic. Bucky wasn't a man to give his opinion on dresses, what color nail polish you should use, to send fresh bouquets of flowers every other week. Yet here he was, sipping too-expensive coffee, deciding between brown, green, and blue dresses that he never would've batted an eye at.

However, that was just the domino effect you caused in his life. You were sweeter than apple pie, becoming Bucky's one tether to reality that saved him from losing himself in this dark, criminal mindset he adopted. You didn't know it, but you had transformed Bucky from a brooding asshole into a boyfriend; someone you were proud to claim and never hid from - never shied away from. He admired the way you came to terms with his job, knowing it was a hard pill to swallow and yet noting the way you just accepted him as he was.

Bucky realized in that moment that he adored this new aspect of life after thinking it was impossible to obtain. He adored sitting here, offering opinions on dresses, his security left outside instead of hovering over him like a brutal reminder he was seedy. He loved having you to come home to, he loved being part of your mundane world - a person who went to weddings, who drank Starbucks, who asked her boyfriend his opinion about how she looked in dresses. Who thought bouquets of flowers were romantic, who baked him homemade cakes for his birthday, who worked overtime in order to afford his Christmas or birthday presents, who walked to the takeout place instead of paying for delivery.

All that you are, Bucky adored deeply; falling in love with you each and every single day. All he wanted to do was protect you, share his life with you, even pick out outfits for weddings you would attend. He knew if any of the men in his organization knew the extent of his affection, they'd surely weaponize it against him... Or at the very least, tease him relentlessly. Yet he never cared, knowing you wanted to be loved out loud instead of hidden away in a storage closet; but did care if it meant his enemies could use you to get to him. It was a risk, an occupation hazard for loved ones to become targets, but that only made Bucky so much more protective of you.

Laura glanced at Bucky and saw the fond smile soften to let his teeth trap his bottom lip, smiling at the Mob boss looking soft, content, smitten being there. She knew most boyfriends would never put this much effort into helping their girlfriends in the fashion department, thinking he must've been truly in love to look so at-ease. Plus his enthusiasm through the entire ordeal assured her that Bucky was genuinely enjoying himself.

Once again, you slipped into the blue dress and showed Bucky. He hummed and snapped a photo, asking you to turn this way and that. Then you tried the green dress, him taking another photo, and finally, you changed into the brown satin dress, facing Bucky for his final verdict.

Bucky hummed in contemplation, swiping through the photos. "You know what?" He asked, looking at you with a grin. "You look delectable in everything, I can't decide - so, let's just get them all."

"Bucky, no - "

"We'll take all three, Valeria, please," Bucky interrupted you.

You waited until the attendants left you alone with a knowing look shot in your direction to ring up the desired purchases, hip cocking and hands to your hips. With an underlying exasperation, you questioned, "What the hell, Buck?"

He grinned and stood, again, buttoning his suit jacket, "C'mon, princess, this is fun, right? Being spoiled?." His arms wrapped around your waist, looking down at you as if you hung the very sun that sucked him into your orbit. "What's the point of all my money if I can't spend it on you? Huh?"

"You can save it for a rainy day?"

He shrugged, "Not necessary."

"Maybe pay to send some underprivileged kids to go to college?"

"Well, there's a thought," your boyfriend mused, "but I already do that through the Stark Foundation. I sponsor a few scholarships."

"Okay, well, buying all three still doesn't help me decide what to wear," you chuckled, you mimicked his action and wrapped your arms tightly around the base of his ribs. Due to his height, your head had to tip backwards to meet his eyes with a small smile.

You could look at this gorgeous man all day, everyday if God ever permitted such an act. Why wasn't dating a paid activity? You'd be the top earner with the way you were absolutely enthralled with all Bucky Barnes was. And what an honor it was to earn his mutual adoration.

"We'll figure it out at home. Gotta get you moving in the material to make an honest judgement," he offered softly. "But you look gorgeous in all of them, baby, seriously. Like, drop dead gorgeous that makes every girl brim with jealousy. Shit, doll, you're gonna run the risk of outshining the bride."

You sighed, "Look, Buck, I appreciate what you're doing, but three designer dresses? Where the hell am I ever gonna wear them? What kinda event calls for overpriced fashion statements?"

Buck eased with a soft expression, "Guess I'll just have to take you out so you can put them all to good use, huh?"

"That's not a solution!"

"Is to me," he let a hand drift to roughly palm the meat of your ass cheek over the brown satin; another symptom of him being whipped, his comfort over public displays of affection. "Seriously, doll, how the hell did I get so lucky?"

"Hmm?"

"Just look at you, my girl," he chuckled lightly, "radiant in anything you put on. It's almost unfair, makes me wonder what I did so right to have someone like you I can call my own. I can't wait to show you off in those dresses, just look so Goddamn tantalizing. I mean, damn, baby, I'm gonna have to fight off men with my gun and the jealous women with a stick."

"You do realize we're already dating, you don't have to lay it on so thick."

"And you do realize being with you makes me the luckiest bastard in the city, right? Least I can do is spoil you, I've already got everything else I've ever wanted."

Your heart swelled at his words, sighing gently as your chin rested on his chest to keep your head tilted. Softly, you admitted, "I don't think you're the lucky one, pretty sure the honor's mine. I couldn't ask for anything more in a man - in a partner. I'm so fucking in love with you, Bucky, it honestly doesn't make sense."

He nodded, asking, "Know what else doesn't make sense?"

"What's that?"

"You refusing those dresses, I mean, c'mon!" He laughed, you groaning and releasing your hold; making his tighten to prevent you from escaping. "Those dresses look phenomenal on you, you really gonna reject my gift? C'mon, you know the rules, doll, if you adore her, you Dior her." You were ready to retort, but Bucky smiled, "For the record, I think you should wear the blue dress to the wedding."

"Blue it is," you smiled, lifting onto your toes and hooking a hand around the back of his neck to meet his lips in a scratchy kiss. "Thank you so much, baby," you whispered, feeling his lips spread against yours before he brought you back in for a much-more passionate kiss. "Hm!" You hummed, pulling away to scold, "But no more, all right? You spend too much money on me - I mean, who the hell needs three designer dresses?"

"You do," he whispered, "you deserve all of this, sugar, and I'll do what I can t'spoil you the way you should be. Might as well get used to it, I got no plans on stopping."

Your eyes rolled in good faith, excusing yourself, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Lemme get changed and we can - "

"Nah," he shook his head, petting the skin of your back exposed from the brown satin dress with his fingertips, "know what? Stay in the dress, I wanna take you out and show you off."

Your lips found his in a breath-sucking kiss, trying to convey your appreciation and giddiness over never having been spoiled like this in your entire life - feeling grateful, refreshed, and privileged for a man like Bucky in your life. Whatever greater force there was in this world, you thanked repeatedly for choosing you to love this man and for this man to love you. There was no telling what you did to deserve him, but blessed be those heavenly powers.

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onlymingyus · 4 months ago

Text

Your Eyes Only

pairing; choi soobin x f!reader x park sunghoon

genre; smut (minor dni), angst, midly toxic, comedy, fluff

summary; Groups projects are the worst, right? But when your group is Soobin and Sunghoon it gets interesting.

content warnings; poly themes, rich kids, university au, jealousy, self-confidence issues, fuck boy!sunghoon, nerd!soobin, alcohol, drug mentioned, mild bullying.

smut warnings; protected sex, semi-unprotected sex, cum play, fingering, oral (f/m giving and receiving), hand job, cum eating, double penetration, anal sex, anal fingering, very mild mlm, pets names/degrading names, dirty talk, glasses kink, begging.

w/c; 21k and some change

a/n; thank you to @junkissed for proofreading for me and givng me the courage to write outside of my svt box. i know this is different BUT if you are looking for the svt version (wonwoo & jeonghan) it is on my patreon right now

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

Chewing on the end of your pen, you tap your heel against the leg of the table as you listen to your professor explain the basics of the project that would pass or fail you in his class. You had spent most of your time at university avoiding any course that you knew would involve a group project, but this was one class you couldn’t get out of.

“You will be randomly paired with a partner for this project.” Glancing around, your professor sighs and looks down the list of names in front of him before pursing his lips. “And one group will have to welcome in a third. You can thank those who dropped the class for the uneven number.”

It was no secret that there were those in the class who were well acquainted with each other and those who were set up for success in the business field, so the random assignment of partners was already making everyone nervous. You were somewhere in the middle of everyone. You weren’t unknown, and it wasn’t like you didn’t have connections after you graduated, but you were no Park Sunghoon with your life already on a silver platter in front of you.

Glancing up as your professor starts to move through the classroom, you swallow hard as he starts to call out names, putting together the groups.

“Lee Yongbok, you will be with Kang Taehyun.”

Great. Only one pair had been named, and you already felt like you were going to be left with someone who would leave you with 90% of the work. Puffing up your cheeks, you glance around the room before quicking looking down at your desk when you meet the one person’s eyes that you had been trying to avoid, Sunghoon. He looked so smug—like he didn’t give a shit about who he was put with, because it honestly didn’t matter. He knew he wouldn’t fail, and he probably wouldn’t have to do a damn thing. This would all be fine as long as you didn’t get put with—

“Park Sunghoon, you will be with Y/N Y/L/N.”

Letting out a deep breath, louder than you mean to, you meet your professor's eyes just before he looks down at his clipboard and purses his lips. “I think honestly this might be the perfect group for a third, so I’m going to add Choi Soobin. You don’t mind, do you, Mr. Park?’

Of course your professor had only asked Sunghoon if he minded. What if you had an issue with it? Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Soobin glances from the professor at the front of the room towards you and then Sunghoon as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“It’s whatever. I can make it work.”

“Perfect, I knew I could count on you.”

The sound of your professor's voice is almost muffled as he continues to call out names, Hwang Yeji being paired with Ning Yizhuo and Park Jongseong with Julie Han. None of them mattered because you could feel eyes on you and were too nervous to look up and see who they belonged to.

“That’s everyone. Now, take the rest of the hour to get acquainted and make a plan for your project. Remember, I want a detailed business plan that I would actually want to put money into. This is 75% of your grade. I expect results.”

Finally looking up, you are relieved to see the room moving into action and no one staring at you. It isn’t until Sunghoon lifts his brows and slides from his chair, picking up his bag, that you feel your heart in your chest. You hadn’t spent much time with him before. He made you nervous—he made almost everyone nervous.

Sunghoon’s father was the CEO of some multimillion-dollar company, and he didn’t even need to be here, except his father wanted him to prove he could take the reins when the time came. Everyone knew that Sunghoon resented the decision, and while he was a genius—truly brilliant—he barely did any of the work and still managed to pass with flying colors by magic every single time.

The other side of Sunghoon was the one that you knew just by reputation. You didn’t have time to party. While some got their way here on their parent’s money, you had gotten in on a scholarship and had to keep your GPA where it was or risk your full ride. You heard about the parties every weekend; you had been invited—but you had stuck to your dorm almost every time. Sunghoon, on the other hand, did not. He hosted the parties and kept putting notches in his bedpost from what you had been told through the rumor mill.

“Dude, shit or get off the pot. Are you sitting on this side of her, or am I?” Sunghoon’s voice made your cheeks heat up as you looked up to watch him and Soobin stand in front of your table.

Soobin was, as far as you knew, the polar opposite of Sunghoon. He was quiet and reserved—more like you. His family was wealthy, and you knew that he probably didn’t need to be here either, but from what you had gathered, he chose to be here, like he had something to prove.

Pushing his glasses up his nose, Soobin narrows his eyes at Sunghoon and sighs before sliding into the chair on your left, leaving the right side open for the other man. He had never gotten along with Sunghoon. They had been in almost every single class together since day one, and somehow Sunghoon always was top of the class. It didn’t matter how much work Soobin put into something; Sunghoon’s smug ass was always one step ahead.

“Hey, Y/N. We, uh—we haven’t talked much. Excited to do the project with—”

“Oh my god, obvious much?”

Sinking down into the chair on your right, Sunghoon rests his arm on the back of your chair and looks around you at Soobin, cutting him off. Meanwhile, in the middle, you felt small as the tension built between the two. Clearing your throat, you lean forward to grab your notebook and pen in an attempt to clear the air.

“I’m excited to do the project with you too, Soobin.” Glancing towards him, you quickly look at Sunghoon, finding that it feels like a mistake as he meets your eyes with a smirk. “And with you too, Sunghoon, you know… of course.” Your mouth feels dry as Sunghoon’s smirk widens into a smile, his eyes moving over your face and dropping to your lips before he nods and furrows his brows in a teasing manner.

“Oh, I’m sure. You look thrilled, princess.”

Opening your mouth, you quickly close it as Sunghoon calls you princess, managing to fluster you even further. “I—no, I am. I mean—I just…um.” Shaking your head, you drop your pen onto your notebook and fish your cellphone from your purse as you swallow hard. “We should probably exchange numbers or something. So we can plan a time to meet and work on the project.”

Nodding, Soobin straightens his back as he furrows his brows, trying to keep his head clear as you struggle so much with your words. He hadn’t been lying when he said he was excited to work on the project with you. You had caught his eye weeks—maybe even months—ago and now he had a reason to talk to you, if he could keep Sunghoon’s claws off of you.

“Yeah, sure. Uh—” Smiling as you turn towards him, Soobin watches as you put his number into your phone; your thumbs quickly move over the screen before you tilt your head and meet his eyes.

“What emoji do you want?” Up close, Soobin was even more handsome than you realized. You weren’t stupid; you had looked at him and at Sunghoon before. While Sunghoon was a dangerous sort of sexy that made you both terrified and excited, Soobin made your stomach feel warm and tight when he smiled at you.

“Emoji? Do I need one?”

Sighing, you give Soobin an exasperated look as you scroll through the emoji’s landing on the smiley face with glasses. “Everyone needs one. You can’t be the only one without one in my phone, Soobin.”

“Are you gonna pick one out for me, or do I get to pick?”

Sunghoon’s voice causes chill bumps to erupt along your skin as you press your lips together and turn back in your seat to face the front of the room. “Uh, no, you can pick. I mean, unless you just want me to pick.”

Grinning at how flustered you seem every single time you talk to him, Sunghoon raises his brow and glances down at your phone as you put his name in and wait for him to tell you his number. “You can call or text anytime.” Leaning his arm back on his own chair, Sunghoon tilts his head as you go back up to his name and start to scroll through the emojis, not commenting on what he had said. “You pick one. I’m curious to see what you’ll choose.”

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you glance to the side at Sunghoon before letting it out in a sharp sigh, trying not to let him get to you. You aren’t sure if it’s just wanting to try to prove something to him or stupidity, but with a small burst of confidence, you purse your lips together and scroll until you find the devil emoji pressing down on it and then save.

“Wow. Damn, Y/N. That’s kinda hot.” Sliding his phone from his jacket pocket, Sunghoon quickly types your name into his contacts and puts an angel emoji next to your name before turning it towards you for you to put your own number in. “I already have Soobin’s number; I just need yours, Angel.”

Leaning his head back, Soobin tries not to show how annoyed he is at Sunghoon’s blatant flirting with you after he had tried to embarrass him from the get-go. Instead, he waits for you to finish putting your number into Sunghoon’s phone and for you to turn to him expectantly. He could almost see how flustered you were, and while Soobin wished that he was the cause, he wasn’t that dense. “Here you go.”

Quickly putting your number into Soobin’s phone, you meet his eyes as you scroll through the emojis one last time before picking the girl with glasses as your emoji and saving it in his phone. “Cool. Uh, did you guys wanna go ahead and set up a time and place to get started on the project? I kinda have a few ideas for some business proposals, but of course we should all have some so we can decide together.”

You were so cute as you tried to stay on task. No matter how much Sunghoon tried to tease you, and no matter how flustered he made you, you still found your way back to the task at hand. You were persistent; he had to hand it to you.

“I’m good anytime—well, not anytime. I have plans this weekend. So anytime before Friday night.”

Rolling his eyes, Soobin lets out a loud sigh and leans towards the table to rest his forearms on the top. Of course Sunghoon would have plans and make the rest of the group work around them. Furrowing his brows at Soobin’s outburst, Sunghoon shifts in his chair and lifts his hand from the table like a question.

“Problem?”

“I mean, yeah. Literally told, this is basically our entire grade and you’d rather get trashed—”

The tension is once again getting thick. You sit up straight and clear your throat, trying to stop the argument before it starts. You had been concerned about this group for other reasons, and now you were starting to realize you were going to be spending your time trying to keep Sunghoon and Soobin from killing each other for the few weeks it would take to complete the project and present it.

“We don’t have to meet this weekend. How about Thursday? No one has to cancel plans right now. We are just getting started.” Glancing from one man to the other, you look for sympathy as a slight pout forms on your lips. “Please don’t argue. I just want to get a good grade on this. I really need it. I just need you guys to help me pick something out, and I’ll research. I don’t need much.”

Taking a breath and pursing his lips, Sunghoon lets his eyes stay on Soobin for a moment longer—a look of contempt evident before he shifts his gaze to you, and it softens slightly. “It’s a date. Your place or mine?”

Hearing a soft, flustered “oh” leave your lips, Soobin shakes his head and sits back in his chair as you pick up your pen to just have something to do with your hands. Every class that he had shared with Sunghoon had gone exactly like this; somehow this was already worse. He had avoided having to do projects with him, and he hadn’t had to watch him flirt with the one girl he was interested in. It was like Sunghoon knew and was doing it on purpose.

“I—you know, either. Or, we could like just... Meet at the library and grab a room.” You could feel Sunghoon’s eyes, almost like they were burning your skin with how intense his gaze was. Soobin, on the other hand, was almost avoiding you now. “Or if Soobin has another idea—”

“I don’t like the library. I’d rather meet at my dorm or yours, Y/N.” Finally looking back up at you, Soobin sighs when he meets your eyes, and you nod, your teeth catching your bottom lip as you shift in your chair.

“Sh—sure, yeah. We can just meet at mine. Thursday, like 4 o’clock?”

Sunghoon smirks even as he nods, his eyes not even moving to the front of the room as everyone else in the room starts to move, noticing the time. Normally he would already be out the door and on his way on to the next thing, but you were far more interesting. “See you then, angel.”

“Yea—sure, sounds good.” Clearing his throat, Soobin is the first to move to his feet and grab his things before you push back your chair to do the same, causing you to take a step towards him. Taking a deep breath, Soobin meets your eyes and gives you a shy smile as he mutters an apology and steps off to the side, feeling his neck and face heating up.

“No problem.”

Your mind was spinning, every thought in it clouded by the scent of Soobin’s cologne, even though he isn’t right in front of you anymore as you lean over to pick up your bag and pull it up into your chair to pack up your things quickly. Sliding out of his chair, Sunghoon tilts his head, watching how your skirt lifts up just slightly on your thighs when you pick up your bag before he sighs and runs his fingers through his hair and raises his brows at an obviously flustered Soobin. He got it. You were cute as fuck and oblivious to how either one of them was looking at you. It was maddening.

“Text me later and let me know if you want me to bring drinks or something to this rager we are planning.” Walking backwards out of the room, Sunghoon flashes you a smile and winks as he turns on his heels out of the door.

“I—jesus. He’s insufferable.”

Glancing over to Soobin with your bag on your shoulder, you can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips when he voices his displeasure for Sunghoon. You knew about their competitive nature in classes, but seeing it up close was a completely different thing. “He’s kinda funny, I don’t know. It’ll be okay. We just need a topic, and this will be easy, Soobin. Don’t stress about it. I’ll text you both later about Thursday.”

Letting out another breath watching you wave at him as you slip out of the room, Soobin leans his head back and curses under his breath at his shit luck. If this had been any other class and any other project when he could have you to himself, he might actually be looking forward to this. But no, Sunghoon had to be right there to fuck it up.

Tapping the screen of your phone, you sigh as the time ticks closer and closer to 4 p.m. You had managed to speed clean your small dorm room into something presentable within an hour, but even as you sat on your now freshly made bed, you were nervous about Sunghoon and Soobin seeing where you lived half of the year.

The knock at your door sends your heart into a panic; you feel it rising into your throat as you slide off your bed and smooth down the skirt of your dress as you give a quick glance at the mirror before reaching for the door handle. It doesn’t surprise you when you see Soobin first. He seemed, out of the two, the most responsible and prompt.

“Come in.” Taking a step back, you find yourself having to look down as a smile pulls at your lips, heat spreading over your cheeks at how Soobin looks at you. He didn’t look much different than any other day, but that was what you liked about him.

Pushing the dark frames of his glasses up his nose, Soobin’s smile widens as he moves past you into your room so he can glance around quickly. You were tidy and adorable. He was happy that you hadn’t decided to study in his room. Not that he was living like an animal, but it was overwhelming in the best ways to be surrounded by all of your things and your perfume.

“You can sit down anywhere. Sorry, I don’t have many options, but the desk and bed are up for grabs. I can always sit on the floor.”

Furrowing his brows at your words, Soobin shakes his head and drops his bag from his shoulder next to your desk before turning around to meet your eyes. “I wouldn’t make you sit on the floor. I’m sure there’s enough room for us all—”

You watch as Soobin’s smile fades slightly along with his words when the second knock draws his attention from you and towards the door. Swallowing hard, you shake out your hands before moving back to the door and pulling it open, instantly meeting Sunghoon’s eyes.

“I’m late to the party.”

Shaking your head, you step to the side. Gesturing for Sunghoon to come inside, you lick your lips as you try to think of the right words. “Uh, no—no. Soobin just got here. We were just talking about where to sit. I was telling him that you guys are welcome to sit on the bed and at my desk and I can sit on the floor.”

“Shit, why would you sit on the floor?” Scoffing, Sunghoon glances around your room much like Soobin had before he nods at the other man and meets your eyes once again. “We can both sit on the bed. Plenty big enough, princess.”

Soobin watches with narrowed eyes as Sunghoon sits on your bed and makes a face of approval before patting the spot next to himself. “Unless you wanna sit on my lap.”

Starting to sit down next to Sunghoon, you almost fall on to the bed out of shock as your breath gets caught in your throat at his bold words. “What? No! I’m fine here.”

“I’m playing with you.” Poking at your side, Sunghoon smirks when you recoil from his teasing, but still a smile pulls at your pretty lips. “Have to lighten the mood somehow. You two are so uptight.”

With a shake of his head, Soobin rolls his eyes and pulls your desk chair out from under the table, turning it towards your bed with more force than necessary. He wished he had been just a bit quicker and less of a chicken shit when it came to you and sat on the bed instead of letting Sunghoon do it. “Just here to actually get something done, Sunghoon. It’s not a party; those happen at your frat house.”

Humming into a nod, Sunghoon leans back on your bed to rest on his elbows as you shift slightly near him to pick up your laptop, resting it on your thighs. “Sure isn’t a party, but speaking of. Y/N, you got plans this weekend? We are having a little get-together, and you should stop by.” Glancing towards Soobin quickly, almost dismissing him, Sunghoon sighs before giving you a tight smile and adding, “Soobin is invited too, of course.”

You tilt your head at your computer screen, glancing towards Sunghoon and then Soobin before trying to pay more attention to the document you had already started the night before for the group project. “Um, I—well, I don’t really party. I don’t even know what those parties are like—”

“Oh, you know... a quiet house that smells like febreeze or some shit, literally no crap in the way. Oh, and uh, everyone there will 100% be over 21, scouts honor.” Grinning at the look on your face, Sunghoon quickly puts up his hands and laughs at his own joke, adding, “Seriously, it’ll be fun and good for you. Let your hair down and shit.”

Wrinkling your nose at Sunghoon’s attempt to convince you, you bite at your bottom lip unknowingly, drawing his and Soobin’s attention to where your teeth pull at your soft lips. “I don’t—”

“I’ll go if you do, Y/N.”

Meeting Soobin’s eyes surprised, Sunghoon tilts his head as you do the same and smiles.

“Really? I—okay, I guess. I could come for an hour or two. Couldn’t hurt, right?”

Sunghoon realized in that moment he probably needed to thank Soobin for convincing you to go to the party, but at the same time you had only agreed if he was going. That didn’t bode well for him. Did you like Soobin? Did you like Soobin more than him? Pursing his lips, Sunghoon watches you turn your attention back to your laptop, your fingers moving smoothly over the keys as you start working on a project he’d barely given any thought to. “I promise it’ll be fun. Now, what are you working on?”

Adjusting on the bed so Sunghoon can see your laptop screen, you start to explain an idea you had about a law firm sharing your three names—Choi, Park, and Y/L/N—when you realize that Soobin is straining his next trying to see and pay attention. "Oh, um—maybe—Sunghoon? Could you scoot down? I think maybe if we lean back against the wall, we can all sit on the bed and use my laptop.”

Sitting up, Sunghoon shrugs as he lets out a long breath before doing as you asked and scooting down very slightly so you can do the same, finding yourself right against his side. You don’t see the smirk on his lips as his eyes move over your face while you watch Soobin move from your desk chair and to the other side of you, now snugly between the two.

“Is this okay? Or is it too close? I know my bed’s kinda small.”

When you start to wiggle, trying to give either man a bit more room, Soobin shakes his head and stretches his back against the wall you are all leaning against. “I’m comfortable, Y/N. Tell us about the law firm.” He didn’t want you to move, or for you or Sunghoon to make him move. He was enjoying the feeling of you warm against his side, your leg against his, your sweet perfume invading his senses.

It was difficult for either Sunghoon or Soobin to really pay attention to the work in front of them. There was nothing wrong with what you had suggested; it was as good as anything else anyone could come up with. The issue was you. It was difficult to think about some make-believe law firm when you have a pretty girl sighing with her body against yours. His mind starts to wander, and he finds himself imagining if her moans might sound as sweet and pretty as her sighs.

At least, that was where Soobin’s mind was. Sunghoon’s eyes were doing most of the wandering. You were so focused on your screen, your lips moving as you asked their opinion to change some idea only to get a nod of approval from each of them as Sunghoon took in every detail he could see. You were gorgeous. How hadn’t he tried to get with you yet? Probably because you didn’t come to the parties he did. You had other priorities—Sunghoon’s only priority now was to see the rest of you after trying to memorize every freckle, mole, and dimple on your exposed skin.

“We could talk about how one of our specialties is pro-bono work. Maybe Soobin?” Glancing up to get another opinion, you feel your cheeks burn when you find two sets of eyes watching you intently. You wait a few seconds before looking down and clearing your throat, realizing that neither is answering you, almost as if they were too distracted. “Soobin?”

Taking a deep breath of his own, Soobin finally meets your eyes before quickly looking at the screen in front of you to try to catch back up. “Sure, yeah… I’d be into that.”

“Cool.” Nodding, you tilt your head and add in a few more notes to the section, feeling Soobin’s eyes once again move over your face. “We can meet up and go more into depth with each section if you want. I think Sunghoon would take the business law section... I mean, you know, following in his father’s footsteps, blah blah blah.”

Your voice trails off as your finger moves over the trackpad. Sunghoon grins as you choose his “profession” in the law firm for him. “Blah, blah, blah... Sure, whatever you think, princess. And I can meet up at the party, or next week.”

The idea of talking about your project at a party where Sunghoon would undoubtedly be drunk or high makes your brows knit together as you look over at him. “I—we can’t do this at the party. That’s silly. I mean, if you wanna meet before the party and go over a few things, that I can do.”

Now you were saying shit that made sense. Sunghoon loved the idea of having you to himself for a bit. “Perfect. You can come over a couple of hours before and we can set this in stone; that sounds fair.”

Soobin wasn’t an idiot; he could almost see the wheels turning in Sunghoon’s head as the man’s eyes moved over your face and along your neck. He thought if he could get you alone, he might have a chance at getting laid—two could play that game. Soobin wasn’t sure where the desire—no, the need to beat Sunghoon—had originated, but he knew when it came to you, he had to win. “And we can meet up tomorrow; finish up my section.”

Suddenly your week and weekend had gotten packed. You were used to door-dashing food on a Friday and vegging out in your pajamas as you caught up on your work, but now you had to figure out how to look presentable for Choi Soobin.

“Okay…” Your voice is softer than you intend; you lean to pick up your phone from your nightstand, leaning over Soobin’s lap for a few seconds before you rest back in your spot. You don’t realize the effect you have on either of the men and how their eyes meet after both struggle to hold in groans watching your dress ride up your thighs. “So tomorrow, Soobin—maybe we can meet back here at like 7?” Sighing at your calendar, you click your tongue against your teeth and nod before continuing. “And Sunghoon, I can come a couple of hours early; does that work?”

Neither need much convincing after their shared glances, a rare understanding between them as they both mutter in agreement.

Taking a deep breath, Soobin stares at your dorm room door as he adjusts his bag on his shoulder, mostly out of nerves. He had just been here the day before, but it felt different being here alone with you. Not that he was even close to complaining; it would be nice to work with you—get to know you without Sunghoon looming over his shoulder or yours.

It was just before 7 o'clock, and you had been looking at your phone consistently for the past hour and a half to keep track of the time. Both Soobin and Sunghoon made you nervous; however, there was something about Soobin that you couldn’t quite shake.

Sunghoon was easy to understand. He was forward—too forward, at times, but at least you knew what was on his mind. Soobin, on the other hand, was quiet and reserved. You had felt your skin go hot as an oven under his eyes while you had sat next to him on the bed, and now you were going to be alone with him.

Knocking lightly, Soobin puffs up his cheeks and waits. All of his anxiety about seeing you melts away the moment his eyes move over your pretty face. The knot in his stomach that had told him earlier in the day to reschedule the study session releases, and he lets out the breath he had been holding and smiles at you.

“Hey. You loo—I mean—” Clearing his throat, Soobin’s eyes stay transfixed on you as a smile pulls at your lips and you step back, giving him room to move through the door. “I hope I’m not bothering you or anything.”

Shaking your head, you close your door as your brows furrow at Soobin’s words. He was so handsome and sweet it made your head spin. He confused you with how soft he seemed. It made you want to get to know him better—get to know the real Soobin.

“Why would you be bothering me? We planned this, Soobin.” Gesturing towards your bed, you sigh softly as Soobin sits down near where he had the day before, dropping his bag into the floor in front of him.

“No—yeah… I mean, I know. Just saying—I mean, I’m just trying not to be a—” Letting out a soft sigh on his breath, Soobin shakes his head before taking in a deeper breath to steady himself. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m glad we get to do this project together, Y/N.”

You pull your leg up under you so that you almost rest on your knees facing Soobin as you sit next to him. “I’m glad too. I—” Glancing down, you feel a wave of uncertainty rushing over you as your cheeks start to burn. You couldn’t help but feel shy under his gaze as you spoke, or tried to, your voice quiet. “I’m glad too. I kinda feel bad for you and Sunghoon being stuck with me. I know neither of you would probably pick me if you had a cho—”

“That’s crazy, Y/N. I’d pick you in a heartbeat.” Shaking his head, Soobin shifts on your bed, turning towards you, feeling a bit bolder as frustration runs through his veins at your words. “Why the hell would you even think that I wouldn’t? Fuck what Sunghoon thinks. I want to know why you think that I wouldn’t want you.”

Almost as if he’s realizing what he had said, seeing the look of surprise on your face—your eyes widening in slight confusion and shock—Soobin licks his lips and opens his mouth before closing it and taking a breath through his nose. He hadn’t meant it how it sounded—but perhaps he had; he didn’t want to scare you. “I mean… Uh—just… Of course I wanna do this project with you. It’s stupid to think I wouldn’t want—”

Even Soobin knew he was talking himself in circles as you tilted your head so innocently at him. He wasn’t Sunghoon. He hadn’t come here with the intention to flirt your pants off. He wasn’t some fuckboy asshole with an agenda.

Swallowing hard, Soobin lowers his eyes to his legs and then further towards his bag before reaching for it, unzipping it quickly, and taking out his laptop to try to change the subject. He could feel your eyes on him, and the heat, while overwhelming, was also making his jeans tighter. Settling the laptop on to his lap, Soobin shifts uncomfortably at the feeling of the pressure before puffing up his cheeks, still grateful to have something hiding his potential problem as he willed himself to calm the fuck down.

“So… I—I uh, tried to expand on what you said about the pro bono part of the practice and came up with a few things if you wanna take a look.”

Your eyes move along Soobin’s face, from his glasses to his perfect lips as his tongue darts along them to keep them from drying out from nerves and finally down towards his lap and to the screen now open for you. You could see how he was fidgeting—almost as if he was uncomfortable where he was sitting, the screen of the laptop moving very slightly as he sighs and scrolls down, letting you try to read over what he had come up with.

“It’s… Yeah—sounds good.”

“You sure? You don’t sound convinced." Soobin’s anxiety was peaking at the sound of your voice. He had royally fucked up. Now you were upset with him even when it came to the project, and he was going to spiral.

“No—I mean yes! Yes! It’s good. Soobin, it’s just—can you stop, like wiggling? I can’t read it when you are doing that. Can I see it? Let me hold it.” Reaching for his laptop, you furrow your brows at the quick, sharp breath Soobin takes before your hand slides over his on his lap.

“I—Y/N… Yes, you can, but!” Fuck. Feeling the laptop being pulled from his lap, Soobin closes his eyes when he hears you take a breath, and a small “oh” leaves your lips. Mortified—that is all that Soobin feels as he blindly reaches for one of your throw pillows, pulling it into his lap, still unable to bring himself to look at you.

If you had known what Soobin had been hiding with his laptop, you might not have just grabbed it—or at least you would have gone about it a different way. Grimacing as Soobin turns his head away from you, the pillow now over his lap, you start to speak but stop when you realize you aren’t sure what to say at first.

Now things that Soobin had said were sort of starting to make a bit more sense, and still not completely. Maybe he was just being a guy. Perhaps he was already having his... problem before he had even gotten to your room, and this had nothing to do with you, but you can’t stop yourself from glancing down at the pillow in Soobin’s lap one more time out of curiosity. What if it was because of you?

“Soobin?”

Leaning his head back when you say his name, Soobin groans under his breath. It was a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. Being around you, seeing so much of your skin on display, the words you had said so innocently that he had let his dirty mind twist... “Hmm?”

Closing Soobin’s laptop, you lean to put it on the floor out of harm's way before resting back on your knees, your eyes once again moving over the man beside you as he keeps his eyes on the ceiling as if trying to disappear. Maybe you could test your theory. Was Soobin into you, or was this just a fluke thing? There was no one else around... you had always been such a good girl at university; how bad could it be to help out someone who clearly needed help?

“Well, I was just—I thought... Do you want me to help you with that? You know if you like me like that?”

He had been doing halfway decent at getting himself calmed down. Soobin had been solving basic trigonometry problems in his head to get his cock to behave, but the moment you ask him if he wants help, all his hard work is out the window. Feeling his cock twitch in his boxers, Soobin bites at his cheek, slowly lowering his head and glancing over at you meeting your seemingly innocent eyes.

You were like a siren in the middle of the vast blue ocean, and he would swim to his death gladly. You had asked another stupid question, causing Soobin’s blood to boil, but the most he could manage at first was to scoff at you, making you recoil and pout, feeling rejected.

"Oh, I—no problem. Sorry I misread the situ—”

“Y/N, please.” Taking a deep breath, Soobin cuts you off again, knowing he has to stop you before you spiral this time. “You have no fucking idea how much I like you like that, or how much I like you in general.” Gripping the pillow tightly over his lap, Soobin groans a bit louder as he boldly lets his eyes move over your face and body this time. You were really the prettiest girl he had ever seen, and this had to be a fucking wet dream that he was going to wake up from at any moment. “But, are you serious? You wanna help me? I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just—god, you are just so cute, and you were looking at me like that. I couldn’t help it.”

Biting your bottom lip, you smile into a soft laugh as you feel warmth spread over your cheeks at Soobin’s words and compliments. You would have never expected to have such an effect on him. You’d never tell him now how many times you laid in bed right where he was sitting and thought about him as you played with the toys in your drawer. You wouldn’t have the guts to tell him just yet how at night you would think about him and wearing his glasses as he buried his—

“Shit—seriously. You gotta stop lookin’ at me like that. I’m gonna cum in my pants. You really have no idea what you look like.”

Soobin’s words bring you out of your daydream and back to reality as you let your eyes once again drop to the pillow in his lap. “What do I look like, Soobin?”

You weren’t trying to be particularly sexy. You weren’t even really sure how to. That wasn’t your “strong” point, but to Soobin, you didn’t have to try. Your innocence was doing it all. Your sweet voice with that layer of teasing was driving him insane as you reached for the pillow, moving it out of his lap and letting you see how hard he really was for you.

“Ah—fuck. Um… Just—it’s hard to... It’s hard to talk when you’re like this.” Leaning back on your bed to rest on his elbows, Soobin watches you closely as you shift closer to him, your fingers running along his thighs over his jeans. "But, uh, you look like you want me to fuck you. Like, uh, this want in your eyes. ‘Fuck me’ eyes, I guess.”

Rubbing your lips together, you carefully graze your fingertips over the bulge in Soobin’s jeans, feeling him thrust off the bed towards you. “Maybe I do want that.” Smiling, you tilt your head, your eyes following your fingers as you smoothly undo his jeans, feeling his stomach suck in under your light touch. “You know, one day. This isn’t a one-time thing, right?”

“God…no.” Shaking his head, Soobin licks his lips and claws at the comforter under him, feeling the drag of his zipper along his hard cock. “I hope not. Trust me, Y/N. I want you so fucking bad. Wanted you for—ah, wait!” Soobin’s voice becomes a whine when you pull away from him to sit back, his eyes widening as he follows you confused.

“I’m not leaving you. Why are you pouting at me, Binnie?” Standing beside the bed, you sway your hips side to side ever so slightly as you work your leggings down your legs, leaving you in your panties and t-shirt, causing Soobin’s mouth to go dry. “I’m just getting comfortable. You should too.”

Groaning your name under his breath, Soobin shakes his head as you use a nickname for him as you take off part of your clothes. Yes, he had seen your legs before when you had worn dresses or a skirt before, but this was different—it was so, so, fucking different. He could see the damp spot on the front of your panties; it was making his head spin.

Soobin quickly sits up and kicks off his jeans, feeling some relief from just a layer of clothes being off, but still his boxers felt sticky against his cock, leaking almost obscenely as you stood in front of him waiting. “You want these off too, pretty?” Trying out the pet name, Soobin watches the smile pull at your lips as you nod and move back to the end of your bed to sit on your knees again. “Okay… Yeah, I can do that.”

Nerves almost getting the better of him, Soobin digs his thumbs into the top of his boxers and pauses as he starts to lift his hips, hoping he will look good enough for you. It wasn’t like he was ashamed of how he looked, but you felt special to him. He wanted to be perfect for you and look exactly like who you wanted, but this was so sudden that he didn’t know anything about what you liked or wanted in bed.

You could see the apprehension in Soobin’s face, the way his brows furrowed when he paused. You hadn’t meant to pressure him, if that’s what he was feeling. “You okay? If you don’t wanna take them off, you don’t have to. I can help you with them on or, you know, we don’t have to—”

“I—woah, no, no! I want to. Just—nervous. What if you don’t like what you see?”

Shaking your head, you shift closer to Soobin on your hands and knees, not even thinking about how you would look to him or what effect it would have on him until he lets out a shaky breath on a groan. Glancing up at him, that same look in your eyes as before, you smile, sliding your hand over his thigh and tilting your head when it becomes clear to you how turned on he is seeing you like you are on the bed in front of him. “I’m gonna like it, Soobin. You are so handsome. I bet every single part of you is. So... can I see it?”

Eyes moving over your arched back down to your ass, Soobin shakes his head in disbelief, feeling your fingers walk slowly up his thigh towards his cock. You were either an angel or a demon; he hadn’t figured it out yet, but at the same time, Soobin wasn’t sure it mattered. He’d gladly give up his soul and die like this if it meant feeling your fingers sliding over his cock.

“Yeah, you can see it. It’s yours, pretty.” Speaking on an exhale, Soobin leans his head back as he relishes in the feeling of your hand molding to the outline of his cock through his boxers. It felt like heaven, and yet it wasn’t enough. He knew he wanted your skin on his. Lifting his hips, Soobin opens his eyes, locking them with yours as he pushes his boxers down and kicks them across the floors before leaning back against your pillows, finally stretching his legs out along your bed.

You know you should be a bit more subtle; slowly work your way down to looking at Soobin’s cock, but the moment he is laid out on your bed, it’s the first thing you do. You weren’t sure what you had been expecting. You had felt him through his boxers in your hand, and you had known he was on the bigger side, but seeing and feeling were different things. “Wow…”

“Wow?” While Soobin enjoyed you looking at him, he had expected a bit more than a single word. Lifting his hand from the bed, he nervously runs his fingers along your arm down to your wrist, wrapping his fingers around it as he lifts his brows. Finally meeting your eyes as you lift your head, he smiles at you and watches you glance away shyly at first. “What? Hey, no. Please? I’m half naked here.”

You knew it wasn’t fair, but you had one of the hottest guys at your school on your bed with his cock hard and out for you; now you were feeling like you might not be skilled enough to help him. “You’re big, Soobin. I’ve never—you know? Someone as big as you. I’m too nervous.”

Soobin hadn’t been sure that his ego could get as big as it did when you spoke, but his shoulders were suddenly tighter and his chest suddenly felt a bit firmer with how you were looking at him. “Yeah? I— fuck. I don’t… I could make it fi—” Shaking his head, not wanting to sound like a cocky asshole, afraid of sounding like Sunghoon on accident, Soobin slides his fingers along your forearm and back down to your hand, taking it into his. “We don’t have to do anything crazy. Just whatever you feel comfortable with, okay, beautiful?”

Your heart beats a bit harder at Soobin’s words and how sweet he is by not pressuring you into doing something that was too much too fast. As much as you might want him to fuck you or to try to fit your mouth around him, tonight just wasn’t that night—but that didn’t mean there weren’t other things you couldn’t do.

Nodding, you bite your lip as you shift on the bed to sit over Soobin’s thighs, hearing him suck in a breath when you do. “This okay?” Getting a nod from him, you smile before cautiously scooting forward and stopping short of his cock, letting it rest against your thigh, his pre-cum smearing along your soft skin. “Lean against the headboard? I wanna kiss you while I do this, if that’s okay.”

Soobin had never moved so fast in his life at the thought of kissing you. He had wanted to kiss you for months, if not a year or more. He had found himself staring at your lips and not paying attention in several classes more than once since he had first met you... and now it was becoming a reality.

Scratching your nails along his chest as you finally close the space between you and him, you can’t help the smile that finds your lips when he groans your name, feeling the warmth between your legs. His cock nudges between your legs, the tip firmly pressed against your cotton panties, and Soobin closes his eyes tightly and squeezes your thighs without thinking.

“Fuck… Please don’t tease me, baby.”

Soobin hadn’t meant to call you a pet name, but it had slipped off his tongue like sugar against your lips before the first kiss. You weren’t trying to tease him, but he felt so good right where he was. His lips, even brushing against yours, felt so good, but the first real kiss was enough to make you see stars.

Groaning into your mouth, Soobin slides his fingers along your thighs to your hips, where he squeezes again and pulls you closer to him as he rolls his hips towards yours. His tongue glides along yours before he swallows your soft, sweet moans to keep them for himself, knowing with each moan from your mouth he is leaking against your panties like a teenager, soaking through to your skin.

It’s when you do finally reach between your legs and wrap your fingers around Soobin’s cock, your smaller hand tightening around his shaft and stroking him from base to tip, that he throws his head back against your headboard, breaking the kiss. “Shit, that feels so good. I’m too worked up, baby. I won’t last if you—ah.”

You could tell from how Soobin was whining into his groans and the way he was short of breath that he was already close. Pre-cum was running along your fingers, making each stroke of your hand smooth as you rocked your hips towards his until you suddenly released your grip and met his eyes.

“Wh—why? Why are you teasing me? I was so close. Pretty girl, please!” The last plead from Soobin’s mouth is sharp, his usually deeper voice going up an octave as you sit back on his legs, wrapping your fingers back around his length and pressing his tip against the center of your panties before stroking him against your clothed, warm pussy.

“Why do you act like I’m punishing you, Binnie? Does this not feel good? What if I just wanted to feel a little bit?”

Eyes rolling back, Soobin bites his bottom lip as he thrusts up between your hand and panties, feeling the damp cotton under his sensitive cock. There aren’t many thoughts in his brain as he shakes his head and mutters your name, staring to lose himself in the feeling. He finds himself wishing, praying, and hoping to feel your pussy around his cock when he feels soft and warm skin pulling him back to reality.

Glancing down between your legs, Soobin only has seconds to watch his cock sliding between your folds, the tip of his cock rubbing your clit before he’s done for. Warm, sticky, white ropes paint your lower stomach and folds as Soobin pants through his climax, his fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to leave bruises.

“Shit, Soobin…” The words fall from your lips on a soft moan as your clit throbs, begging you for more, but you know that he’s done. You can feel Soobin’s cock start to soften in your hand as he whines your name, his fingers still kneading your thighs.

Searching your face, Soobin watches the pout start to form on your lips, your bottom lip jutting out just slightly as your hand loosens around him and you start to scoot back on your bed. It wasn’t fair. He felt great. You had taken him to heaven and back, yet he could see the disappointment written on your face. That just wouldn’t work for him.

“You’re so fucking pretty.”

Soobin’s compliment brings your attention back to him, your eyes meeting his as he licks his lips. Quickly your cheeks warm up, words getting caught in your throat as you try to think of the right thing to say—anything when you feel the tightness in your stomach from want though you don’t know or want to ask for something when you had only offered to help.

“Baby…” Whining the pet name, Soobin slides to his knees, his hands once again finding your hips as he helps you to the center of your bed. “Can I touch you? Make you feel good?” Letting his eyes move between your legs, Soobin groans at the sight of his cum on your stomach and the peek of it between your legs—how your pussy lips aren’t quite covered by your panties that are painted by him. He finds himself wanting to run his finger through it... Put it where it belongs—inside you. “Are you—mmm, this is a really personal question but probably important to ask, since we are in bed together. Are you on birth control?”

Your thighs tremble at Soobin’s touch, suddenly shy at his attention and his question. It was a valid and fair question, and yet how he asked it made you feel like you were burning up, as if you were right beside an open flame. Unable to find the words, you just nod quickly and suck on your bottom lip.

“Yes? To which question, pretty girl? I asked two.”

Closing your eyes, you whine Soobin’s name and lean your head back, causing him to laugh under his breath even as his fingers trail along your thighs. “Both of them. Please… I helped, right? I was good?”

The question makes Soobin furrow his brows, his throat suddenly dry as if sand were poured in his mouth instead of water. Why were you able to say something so simple and innocent and it sound so filthy? Why did you have this sort of effect on him? Pushing his mouth against his bicep, Soobin nods before moving one hand from your leg to push his glasses up his nose. “Very fucking good, baby. The best. Now let me be good for you.”

You want to tell Soobin that he is already good, but the words get lost on your tongue when his lips press to your knee as his fingers pull your ruined panties to the side and his other hand is free to explore. Mouth falling open in a silent moan, you try to watch carefully as Soobin’s fingers carefully push your sticky folds apart, giving him access to everything he wants.

“You got so messy with my cock..." Soobin was muttering, not even really speaking to you as he studied what was in front of him, his thumb circling your clit as he spread his cum along your skin. Finally meeting your eyes again, Soobin swallows hard watching you lick your lips, your chest rising and falling hard and fast with each panting moan. “Can I fuck you with my fingers? That okay?”

Clinging to the bedding, you nod hard, wanting to feel more of Soobin’s touch. You weren’t blind, and you knew he probably wasn’t either. You had been staring at his hands. His hands were big, his fingers thick, and the idea of Soobin just touching you had you leaking and mewing like a cat in heat. “Yeah, Binnie. Want it, please?”

You wanted it. That was even better than him asking for permission—hearing you beg for it. Smiling against your leg, Soobin nods as he slowly drags more of his cum down before slowly easing the first finger into you. He had cum, and yet feeling you clench around his finger had Soobin’s cock throbbing against his leg. He could lie to himself and you and say that he was using the cum on your skin as lube to fuck you on his fingers, but in reality you were so wet he didn’t need it—it was an added bonus being able to know that he was inside of you.

“Doin’ so good, beautiful. Gonna add another one; you can take it.” Nodding along with you, Soobin grins when you cry out his name on a moan when he pushes a second finger in to your pussy alongside the first. Your warm, soft walls hug his fingers and pull them in as if you are trying to fuck yourself, too eager to wait for Soobin to do it. “Like that? Feel good?”

It was almost a stupid question, but you nod anyway and mutter out a yes and pleas for more. It was almost too easy for Soobin to get you drunk on him and dumb with just his fingers. You could already feel the coil inside of you winding so tight that it was threatening to snap. Each brush of his fingers and every deep thrust as his thumb circled your clit, and muttered praises pushed you to the edge.

“Good fucking girl, yeah? My girl?”

Soobin knew that was crazy asking you that, making you admit to being his, but when you nod and repeat the words back to him, it makes his head spin. You might not even mean it; most people didn’t mean what they said during sex, but that was okay. Right now, it didn’t matter if you meant it; he would replay it on a loop for the rest of his life, just like he would never forget the feeling of you cumming on his fingers.

“Soobin! Yes, yes! Ah… right there!”

Thighs shaking, tightening around Soobin’s arm, you throw your head back as your orgasm rips through your body, leaving you breathless and spent on your bed. Fingers brush over your cheeks, soft lips meet yours, and you find it impossible not to smile as you return the sweet kiss, feeling Soobin’s arm wrap around you. There was a lot left unsaid. Much of your project was left undone, but you were enjoying the moment as you threw caution to the wind.

Soobin, on the other hand, was letting his mind run in circles as he held you against him. He wanted this. Not just the sex, but this. He wanted you. He wanted you to say you were his and mean it. But how in the fuck was he supposed to say that when he had just now gotten the courage to talk to you during a stupid ass group project?

It could wait. Nothing could possibly happen, right? He just needed a little more time to get his shit together.

Sunghoon had been waiting for something, anything from you or Soobin about what the two of you had gotten done the day before for the project, but yet his inbox was looking bare. Maybe the two of you had decided he wasn’t privy to that information. It wouldn’t surprise him if Choi Soobin decided to pull some shit like that, but you? Nah, you wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t allow it. Would you?

Sipping on the same beer he had been nursing for an hour, Sunghoon narrows his eyes at the clock on his phone as he bounces his leg along with the music from the next room. Most of the other members of his frat were already pre-gaming, actually enjoying their afternoon, and he was sitting here with a half-stale beer waiting on you.

It shouldn’t piss Sunghoon off as much as it does, but he doesn’t do shit like this for girls. Not for school... not for any reason. Chicks are chicks, and that’s it, so why do you have him sober while Jake Sim was already throwing up in the sink?

He was about to give in and get something stronger than his beer when your name caught his attention on his phone.

Y/N😇: Do I just come in? Should I knock? People are just going inside, but I feel weird. Doesn’t the party start at like 11?

God, you were so cute; it was killing Sunghoon. You rambled even over text. Sliding off the sofa, Sunghoon pockets his cellphone and pushes past a few of the early comers to open the front door and see you looking around like a lost puppy.

Devastating. You were devastating him. Fuck, he was screwed.

“Princess, get your cute ass in the house. Have you never been to a frat party before?”

Eyes widening, you hold the strap of your bag tighter to your shoulder as you turn to meet Sunghoon’s eyes after hearing his voice. It was a valid question, and yet it made you feel small and insecure. Sunghoon wasn’t like you. He was cool and super rich. Everyone wanted him or to be him. You weren’t much different than them supposed, but you were also the one he was calling princess.

“Oh… I—no. Not really. I—”

Scooting to the side as a girl shoots you a dirty look, her attention turning immediately towards Sunghoon, you look away as she coos at him making her way into the house. “Sunghoon! Oh my god, you look so fucking good. Do you wanna, like, you know, chill before—”

This was what Sunghoon had gotten used to. Maybe that was narcissistic of him to expect it, but he was used to girls throwing themselves at him. Yeah, he had accepted a few offers. He had a reputation, but he liked to have fun. He knew at the end of the day none of these girls mattered. They saw status and dollar signs. He saw tits and a distraction, but when he looked at you, he saw something else—frustration and desire.

Shaking his head and sidestepping to get away from the pretty girl and her advances, Sunghoon sighs, giving her a half glance. “Nah. I have shit to do.” When you don’t move, making no effort to meet his eyes again, Sunghoon rolls his eyes, moving down the steps to grab your hand, much to the dismay of the girl as you are ushered inside the house past her. “I told you to come inside, baby.”

“Sunghoon…” Your voice is quiet, almost embarrassed, as you meet the eyes of the girl he had turned down when she hears him call you baby. You can feel the daggers come from her eyes and meet your skin until you are finally out of her sight and heading up the stairs away from the music. “Sunghoon.” Saying his name again, you tug back on his hand at the top of the stairs, landing finally managing to get him to look back at you. “There is so much going on downstairs. Aren’t you going to miss it by doing this with me? I’m not nearly as much fun as that. You don’t have to preten–”

“God, Y/N, shut the hell up already. I said we can work on the project today, and we can.” Pushing his bedroom door open, Sunghoon ushers you inside as your cheeks burn from his words. Watching you move slowly into the room, he narrows his eyes and sighs before running his fingers through his hair. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

Tears prick at your eyes as you walk towards one of the beds in the room, sitting your bag down on it as Sunghoon moves closer behind you. You weren’t sure what you had done to him to make him be so mean to you, but his words were making your stomach twist up in a knotted mess of anxiety and low self-confidence.

Hearing you sniff under your breath, Sunghoon closes his eyes and leans his head back, knowing he upset you. It hadn’t really been his intention. He wasn’t great with words. He just said what was on his mind, and you were annoying him. He just hadn’t clarified why. “Fuck, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I—listen, okay?” Hands slide over your arms as Sunghoon slowly turns you towards him, his eyes moving over your face carefully. “What I mean is that you aren’t like the other girls. You make me chase you. I don’t chase girls, Y/N.”

You could understand every word that Sunghoon was saying, and yet nothing he was saying made any sense to you. Shaking your head, you sniff back your tears and lift your shoulders, causing Sunghoon to groan in annoyance before he cups your face with both of his hands leaning in to press his lips to yours.

Every cell in your body misfires at the feeling. Your mind screams for you to run. You quickly think of every rumor you have heard about Sunghoon. You picture every heartbroken girl crying over him as he smirks with his friends the very same day, and yet as he kisses you, his tongue gently gliding along your bottom lip, you start to melt into him. You shouldn’t enjoy feeling Sunghoon’s lips on yours, but you do. You whine into the kiss, and Sunghoon’s brows furrow as his entire body reacts to the sweet sound.

“Holy shit. You sound so pretty, Angel. Do that again for me?”

Sunghoon was different than Soobin. Every touch was precise and calculated. Each step, while not planned, led you right where Sunghoon knew he wanted you. Knees hitting the end of his bed, causing you to fall backwards with another whine, your back hitting the bed, eyes wide as you look up at Sunghoon.

Leaning over you to pick up your bag, Sunghoon moves it to the floor before laying over you and putting his lips back on yours. This hadn’t been the plan. He really was planning on being true to his word and working on the project with you, but then you just had to be so fucking cute and so goddamn frustrating, and now Sunghoon was throwing himself at you.

One hand sliding along your side to your hip, Sunghoon breaks the kiss to meet your eyes with a question hanging in the hair as his fingers play with the end of your dress on your thigh. He would let you say no, but god, he hoped you wouldn’t. He was being pathetic; he could feel his cock throbbing in his pants. The moment you whine his name again and nod, Sunghoon is groaning your name and sliding down in the bed to push your dress up to your stomach.

“You are so cute, princess. Always dressed so pretty.” Shaking his head, Sunghoon traces your bellybutton with his pinky, watching you suck in your stomach on a deep breath, causing his lips to pull up in a smirk. “Won’t lie, recently I’ve been telling myself you’ve been dressing like this for me... Even if I know it’s probably not.”

Carefully pushing the tips of his fingers into the elastic of your panties, Sunghoon lifts his brows in a question again before tilting his head and licking his lips. “Can I? Wanna taste you so fuckin’ bad. Been dreaming about it for days.”

His words have you breathless; you feel almost faint as you nod and lift your hips, letting Sunghoon work your panties down your thighs and off your legs. He had been dreaming about you. More specifically, Park fucking Sunghoon, the wet dream of 90% of all of the girls at your university, had been dreaming about eating you out? There had to be a glitch in the matrix. This couldn’t be happening. You had just spent an evening with Soobin, and now—Sunghoon?

You don’t get much time to process when Sunghoon’s warm, wet tongue runs from your dripping entrance to your already throbbing clit in one smooth motion. Clinging to the comforter, you gasp Sunghoon’s name, closing your thighs around his head, feeling him chuckle against your folds as his hands wrap around your thighs, working them back apart over his shoulders.

There was a reason for many of the rumors that Sunghoon was involved in; most of them had a layer of truth to them. It wasn’t Sunghoon’s fault that he was good in bed or that he loved to eat pussy. There was nothing like listening to a girl squeal his name as he drove her crazy with his tongue alone, but you were something special. No one tasted or felt like you. You were driving him crazy. There was enjoying eating a girl out, and then there was enjoying eating you out. This was heaven.

“Fuck…” Drawing the word out as he runs his fingers over your soft folds, Sunghoon groans, resisting the urge to push his hips against his mattress as he watches your arousal begin to drip and mix with his saliva. Unable to stop himself, Sunghoon uses his thumbs to spread your folds and buries his faces between your legs, hungrily lapping at you like you’re oozing nectar that will sustain him for weeks.

Any coherent thought you once had was gone. Between Sunghoon’s tongue and the groans he was letting out between your legs, you were dumbstruck. Your thighs had already begun to quiver, your stomach tight as your orgasm hung right on the precipice with each drag over Sunghoon’s devious tongue, but it isn’t until he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks that you lose a battle you weren’t really trying to win.

“Cumming…ah! Sunghoon!” In your mind, somewhere buried deep down under the pleasure, you could feel the shame wash over you at the same time as you wonder if you were another notch on the bedpost under your hand, but the kisses to your thigh and the sweet praises bring you back to reality.

“Taste so good. Best fuckin’ girl. Not letting you go, swear to god.” Sunghoon was pussy drunk; he knew it and he knew that you probably knew it, but that didn’t mean the words he was muttering against your skin weren’t real. He loved the feeling of your fingers running through his hair as he licked your cum from his lips, and what Sunghoon loved even more was seeing the fucked-out look on your face, knowing he caused it. “You are so goddamn pretty. No one deserves you; do you know that?”

He was full of pretty words as he moved up in the bed to lay over you, his lips once against pressing to yours before moving along your jaw and neck. You weren’t sure he was telling you the truth. You wanted someone to deserve you. You weren’t sure if that person was him or Soobin, but... someone.

Furrowing your brows, you shift in bed, wanting to return the favor. Sliding your hand over Sunghoon’s jeans, you feel him push towards your hand, a soft groan slipping from his lips.

“You don’t have to do that, Angel, but fuck... I’m so fucking hard.”

He didn’t have to tell you that. You could feel how hard he was even through his jeans, and you knew you didn’t have to do anything; it was more that you wanted to. You knew something like this could distract you from thinking too hard. This was fun. It was easy. Thinking was too hard.

Pushing Sunghoon to his back on the bed, you smile shyly, moving to your knees beside him. You feel his eyes on you as you slowly undo his jeans and let him help you push them down with his boxers, letting his cock rest back against his stomach, leaking heavily.

He was a bit smaller than Soobin—of course you would never tell Sunghoon that, but despite the small size difference, it didn’t mean that his cock wasn’t just as pretty and enticing. You had found yourself taking control with Soobin, but in Sunghoon’s bed you were docile and nervous. You found yourself wanting to prove that you were good enough to be in his bed.

“It’s yours, baby girl. Whatever you wanna do with it—ah, fuck!” Sunghoon was a talker in bed. He might not be good at words that mattered, but he could dirty talk. Only your mouth around his cock could silence him. Hissing as his stomach tightens, feeling you hollow your cheeks as you take in more of his length, Sunghoon curses under his breath.

Normally he could handle getting head. Most girls weren’t that great at it if he were honest, and usually he wasn’t. He’d tell them how good their mouth was, that they did a good job, and he’d cum on their lips or wherever they wanted as he jerked himself off, but you—god, he didn’t have to lie to you. Instead, Sunghoon was digging his fingers into his bedding, forcing himself not to cum down your throat after thirty seconds of his cock being in your mouth.

“So fucking good. Oh, shit. Just—slow down. Baby!” Throwing his head back, eyes rolling back as you let his tip brush the back of your throat, Sunghoon smacks the bed under his hand, pushing his feet into the mattress. You were sucking the soul out of him and not leaving a drop. If this was how Sunghoon was going to die, it was worth it. “Gonna—ah, fuck. It’s too—cumming!”

Furrowing your brows, you close your eyes tighter when Sunghoon cums in your mouth even after warning you. The salty, sour taste hits your tongue, and rather than letting it linger in your mouth as you pull back, sucking one last time to make sure you have every last drop, you swallow.

Sunghoon stares at you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath when you sit back on your knees to wipe your lips clean of his cum. He was seeing double, and you literally looked like you were glowing, a halo around you like a real fucking angel.

“You tried to murder me.” Licking his lips, Sunghoon moves one of his arms over his head to rest his head on his forearm as his eyes start to focus more. He watches the small smile form on your lips—how shy and sweet you look even as you search for your panties on the floor, reaching down to pick them up and pulling them back on. “Are you leaving me? We still have a project to work on, and I thought I had a date to the party.”

Opening and closing your mouth a few times, you swallow hard, finally meeting Sunghoon’s eyes as he relaxes half naked on his bed as if this is a normal Friday night, which you realize it might be; the shame slipping back in your mind causes you to look away and down at the floor. “Um, I—it’s—you know... Your party starts in like an hour now and I’m not much of a partier—”

“Y/N… seriously? What did I do wrong?” Sitting up, Sunghoon reaches for his own clothes, pulling them back on before scooting closer to you. When you still won’t look at him, shrugging and adjusting your dress over your lap, he gently cups your chin and guides your head back towards him to make you look at him. “Do you regret what happened? Should I apologize? I just—I thought you wanted me too, and I like you, so…”

Shaking your head, you sigh and let it out on an exasperated breath, pulling away from Sunghoon. You can’t help but think he’s said this exact thing to every other girl he’s ever fucked in his bed. “I don’t know, kinda... maybe? I’m just—I’m like, what? The flavor of the week? You’ll get bored and move on? It doesn’t feel good, Sunghoon.” As soon as the words come out of your mouth, you feel a different kind of shame wash over you, Soobin’s face in your mind as you realize you’ve done something similar to both of them. “Sorry, that’s not fair. You don’t owe me anything. Neither of you…”

Furrowing his brows at your words, especially the last, as your volume drops almost to a whisper, Sunghoon shifts closer to you and turns you towards him with both hands on your shoulders. “Could you fucking just talk to me? Not just assume shit? You aren’t the goddamn flavor of the week." Tilting his head, Sunghoon glances towards the sound of the party picking up downstairs as he licks his lips, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Wha—what do you mean, neither of you?”

Sunghoon’s eyes follow your eyes as you look away, avoiding his eyes. He knew that look; he had given it to other people, but he hadn’t been on the receiving end before. There was someone else besides him. Who else were you hooking up with? As soon as he asks the question in his head, the answer comes to him. There is only one answer. Soobin.

Nodding as if you had answered him yourself, Sunghoon chews at his cheek, sliding his hands along your arms, comforting you as he thinks of what to say or do, weighing his options. He could be mad. He could lash out at you for not telling him before the two of you did something, but you didn’t owe that to him. How serious were you and Soobin? From how you were acting and from what had happened between you and him, Sunghoon had to assume not very serious. So then that was something else to consider. He could ask you to tell Soobin to fuck off, or he could tell Soobin himself... But looking at your pretty face, Sunghoon could see the conflict written all over it. You liked Soobin. You liked him. You didn’t know what you wanted.

“Does he know?”

Shaking your head no, you blink back your tears, causing Sunghoon to move closer to you when he notices them. “Hey… none of that. Why are you crying? I’m not mad at you, baby.”

“I’m so shitty, Sunghoon. I—who does this? I like you.”

Nodding, Sunghoon sighs before pressing a kiss to your forehead as tears roll down your cheeks. “You aren’t shitty. It’s a shitty situation, but I’m not gonna flip my shit. Listen, I—he—” Sighing, Sunghoon groans at his own thoughts before leaning his head back in disbelief that he’s the one suggesting it. “Soobin is coming to the party tonight, right? Talk to him. We can talk it out and see what happens. Cool?”

He made it seem so easy, like they would just shake hands and choose a winner, like you were a prize. Blinking tears from your eyes, you shrug watching Sunghoon shake his head, his thumbs sliding over your cheeks to wipe away your tears. He wasn’t the pretentious fuckboy asshole everyone made him out to be after all.

“It’s worth trying, baby. I’m willing to see where it goes... for you.”

Sighing into the red solo cup in his hand, Soobin glances around the room, looking for a way out. He hadn’t seen you, and ironically, he hadn’t even seen Sunghoon. It wasn’t like he didn’t know anyone at the party, but this wasn’t his scene. The music was loud, smoke was making his nose feel funny, and he didn’t even like beer that much.

Soobin wasn’t sure why he had even agreed to this. You had probably ditched on it. He didn’t blame you if you had, but Sunghoon? It was his frat house. Surely he was around here somewhere.

Glancing towards the stairs, Soobin furrows his brows as he quickly glances away from a couple making out against the wall. That was probably the answer. Sunghoon probably had some poor, pathetic girl trapped in his bed already. Rolling his eyes, Soobin takes a big sip of his drink, starting to turn towards the front of the house when his eyes lock on to you and his stomach tightens with nerves. You were so fucking pretty. God, of course you always were... but it felt different now. You were like a beacon, so bright that it took a few seconds before it dawned on him that Sunghoon was standing behind you with his hand on your hip whispering in your ear.

It wasn’t fair for Soobin to be upset or jealous. It made sense that you were with Sunghoon. That had been the plan; you were going to meet up with him before the party and work on the project. So why was it making it hard to breathe seeing his hand on you like that? Why did it feel like you were slipping from his fingers and into Park Sunghoon’s arms?

Soobin downs the rest of his drink, making a sour face as he clenches his fist around the cup, and it crushes easily in his hand. He could give up, walk away, and find the door, but meeting your eyes and seeing the pretty smile on your face has him stuck where he is. There was no world where you were going to smile at him like that; he didn’t at least have a chance.

Glancing back at Sunghoon, you watch his brows lift in question before he nods his head towards Soobin as he leans down to speak next to your ear over the music. “He looks annoyed, but when isn’t he? I’ll be around; come find me in a bit.” Nodding, you slide your fingers over his on your hip, meeting Soobin’s eyes with a smile on your face.

“Hey.” You try to talk over the music, but your voice still sounds too small for the space that you are in, even as you move closer to Soobin. “I was—I hoped to find you. You know—that you’d come, you know, here—to the party.”

Furrowing his brows, Soobin still can’t stop how his lips pull up in a small smile hearing your voice even under the bass of the music. Leaning in a bit closer to you, he glancing behind you, trying to find Sunghoon, but is pleased not to see him lingering. “Well, I promised I would so—”

“You wanna maybe find somewhere quiet—” The words get cut off by a gasp when you feel your body being pushed towards Soobin’s as someone accidentally knocks into you. Lukewarm beer soaks into the front of your dress, drawing your eyes down to the wet stain starting to spread across your stomach. “Fuck…”

Soobin had started to nod along with your suggestion. He knew how the sentence ended; you wanted to find somewhere quieter to talk, or maybe something else, but then you had landed in his arms. Letting his eyes follow the girl who had bumped into you seemingly on accident, Soobin frowns when he sees her look back at you and laugh with her friends. It hadn’t been as much of an accident as it had seemed. This was why Soobin hated these sorts of parties. People who came to these things were all assholes. The people who threw these parties were even bigger assholes.

Taking the cup from your hand, he sighs under his breath as you pout down at your dress, stepping back to assess the damage. You would need to change, and you could feel your cheeks heating up even though no one was really paying that much attention to you; it felt like everyone’s eyes were on you.

Linking his fingers with yours, Soobin looks for a way out when you tug at his hand, pulling him towards the stairs. That would work. He wasn’t sure what you had in mind, but as long as he was with you, he didn’t care.

"Man, fuck off. You are too good at this.” Smirking at Heeseung’s complaint as he sinks another ping pong ball into a cup, Sunghoon’s attention is suddenly taken from the table in front of him and towards you as you guide Soobin up the steps. That hadn’t been discussed. He couldn’t help the lump that was forming in his throat at being left out. Tossing Heeseung the last ball in his hand, Sunghoon ignores his roommates questioning looks as he makes his way through the sea of people to follow you.

“Y/N, you okay?” Soobin could actually hear himself think on the second floor. The music was still loud, but at least the bass was at a dull thud instead of threatening to bust his eardrum.

Wiping your hand over the front of your dress, you lean back against the wall next to Sunghoon’s bedroom door, letting out a sigh. This wasn’t going how you had planned. You were starting to get a headache, and you smelled like stale beer. There was so much you wanted to say to Soobin as he looked at you with those big, puppy dog eyes... And now it was harder; the guilt was starting to wash over you again.

“I’m fine. It’s just a dress. I—Soobin…”

Furrowing his brows at your hesitation, Soobin takes a step towards you, resting his hand on your waist. He could feel the tension in the air. Something had changed, and now he felt like he had to do something, anything, to keep things in his favor. “What? Why do you look sad? Can’t stand it. What’s wrong, baby?”

Your hands move to hold Soobin’s biceps when he moves closer, pressing his body against yours. You know you should tell him to wait, to just stop until the two of you have really talked, but then he calls you baby, and all your hesitation melts away. Brushing your lips against his, you whimper Soobin’s name, feeling his knee slide between your legs, pinning you to the wall in the middle of the hall.

“You’re just needy? Maybe you missed me?”

Where had this Soobin come from? Meeting his eyes, you whine out a yes against his lips that barely rest over yours. There was something in his eyes that was different. His gaze was locked on you, intense—possessive, as his thigh pressed against you.

“In the middle of the hallway? And I didn’t even get an invite?”

Sunghoon’s voice brings you and Soobin out of your lust-filled haze and back to reality. You glance at him over Soobin’s shoulder, a small smile on your face. Soobin, on the other hand, clinches his teeth and lowers his head, feeling annoyance rush through him. “Of fucking course he’d show up.”

This had been one of the reasons you had wanted to talk to Soobin in the first place. This was your fault for not saying anything before things started to get out of hand with Soobin, but it was crazy how much both of them affected you. Sliding your hands along Soobin’s chest, you shake your head and meet his eyes as he tilts his head, obviously confused. “Don’t be like that, okay? I—see, I need to talk to you about something. Things happened, Binnie…”

Licking his lips, Soobin glances from you to Sunghoon over his shoulder before sighing out his words. “What things?”

“Things that maybe we can talk about in my room?”

Sunghoon was right. You had gotten caught up in the moment, but now that you were more aware of your surroundings, you could feel the embarrassment washing over you from how many people were walking through the hall to get to other rooms. Taking Soobin’s hand, you gesture with your head towards the door, hearing him sigh one more time before he gives in. Opening the door, he let’s Sunghoon follow behind, locking it.

“So, now does someone wanna fill me in on what I’m clearly missing?”

You could almost feel the frustration and hesitation radiating off of Soobin as his fingers trailed from yours. Following him with your eyes first, you pout at Sunghoon before moving towards Soobin, your fingers fidgeting with the end of your dress at your thigh. “I don’t want you to be mad at me or at Sunghoon—”

“Y/N, just tell me what the fuck happened.”

Slightly taken back by the tone of Soobin’s voice, you drop your dress from your fingers and sigh, lifting your hands and dropping them back at your sides. It wasn’t like you were dating either one of them. You hadn’t committed yourself to either one. You hadn’t done anything wrong.

“We did stuff, you know, like... together.” You weren’t really sure how to explain it. It wasn’t like you had fucked Sunghoon. You hadn’t fucked Soobin either, but either one could have ended up that way. “I—I like you, Soobin.”

Tilting his head at the second part of your explanation, Soobin’s mouth opens and then closes. He was a bit confused. You and Sunghoon had “done stuff together." What, like you had done stuff with him? Now you were telling him that you liked him? It felt like Soobin was on a rollercoaster, and he had just hit the top of a drop only to get stuck with that feeling of his stomach in his throat. “Explain that to me, Y/N, ‘cause... I don’t get it.”

Rolling his head, Sunghoon leans his head back, resting against his desk, as Soobin makes you explain yourself. It wasn’t that hard; he had figured it out so surely Soobin could do the same. “Seriously, dude? Put two and two toget—”

“Stay the fuck out of it, Sunghoon. I’m not talking to you yet.” Soobin hadn’t meant to sound as pissed as he did when he snapped at Sunghoon, but he was confused, and it wasn’t as easy as he was trying to make it out to be. At least it wasn’t to Soobin.

Holding his hands up, Sunghoon gives Soobin an impressed look before crossing his arms and shutting his mouth.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, you know." Your voice had gotten small. The sound of it made both Soobin and Sunghoon’s stomach’s tighten; the urge to move to you and to make you feel better is strong, but both stayed where they were and let you speak. “I do like you. I like you both. I know that’s weird and it’s stupid. I have to figure it out... I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I’m not like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Shaking your head, you furrow your brows, glancing towards the door, your voice once again dropping in volume. “I should just go home and leave you guys alone.”

Watching you start to turn towards the door, your feet moving in that direction with that sad look on your face has Soobin headed towards you faster than he realized he could even move. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he pulls you back against his chest and rests his lips against your head, taking a deep breath of you unwilling to let you just go. “Stop it. I’m not—it’s not ideal, no, but I’m not mad. It’s confusing, yes, but I’m willing to figure it out with you.”

You close your eyes to the feeling of Soobin’s warm breath against you, his fingers pressing against your wet dress over your stomach as he keeps you against him. “And with Sunghoon?”

Groaning under his breath, Soobin glances towards the other man before wrapping his other arm around you and walking backwards towards the unmade bed sitting on it so you can rest on his lap. “Fuck, I guess so. Whatever this fucking means, I’ll figure out how to make it work.”

“You make it sound like I’m a bad date.” Pushing away from the desk, Sunghoon smirks at you and Soobin once he gets closer. “And for the record, I already said I’d make it work. I’m pretty good at sharing. Seems like I’m better at it than you, Soobin.”

Shaking his head, Soobin presses his lips to your neck, unable to stop himself when he hears you finally laugh, even if its at Sunghoon’s stupid attempt at a joke. He loved that sound—the sound of you happy. Happy looked good on you, and if he had his way, that’s how you’d always look. None of that pout on your lips like you had been just a few minutes ago. That shit had broken his heart and made him want to climb mountains to fix shit for you.

“Shut up, Sunghoon. You talk too fucking much.” Smiling against your neck, Soobin tests the waters by sliding his hands along your hips and down to your legs, feeling them part at his touch. “I can share... a bit, if that’s what you want me to do, pretty girl.”

Nodding, you slide your hands over Soobin’s, guiding them along your thighs and pushing your dress up as you turn your head towards his, capturing his lips between words. “Uh huh, share me, please?”

“Greedy little angel. One just isn’t enough?” Grinning at your shy reaction and how you tuck your face against Soobin’s neck, shaking your head no to answer his question, Sunghoon runs his fingers along your warm cheek. “That’s okay, baby, but I wanna know something. You never told me. What did you and Soobin do without me? ‘Cause I’m sure he wants to know what you and I did when we played earlier.”

That had Soobin’s attention. As jealous as he was that Sunghoon had touched you somehow, he was trying to give into it and make it work as you rocked your hips over his hardening cock. He was very curious what you and Sunghoon had been up to and why you were whining Sunghoon’s name as he chuckled your name in return, urging you to spill the details.

“Go on, baby girl. It’s a safe space with us, right, Soobin? We won’t judge our baby.”

Helping you spread your legs over his, Soobin nods along with Sunghoon’s words before trailing his fingers along your soft thighs. “I won’t judge you. Go ahead, sweetheart, tell him. I wanna know too.”

Shivering to Soobin’s light touch, you arch your back, managing to roll your hips down over Soobin’s lap once again, granting yourself a deep groan against your ear. “I—mmm, fuck. Soobin and I—we... I used my hand.” Whining softly, you meet Sunghoon’s eyes as he bites his lips, nodding for you to continue. “And against my—” Stopping short out of embarrassment, you glance back to Soobin, who smiles softly at you, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours.

“You teased me with your pussy, didn’t you, pretty? Got me so close but didn’t let me put my cock inside of you.” Soobin smiles against your lips when you shake your head, whining in protest that you weren’t teasing him. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t lie to us. You aren’t a fucking liar, Y/N. You’re a real slut when you really want it, and that’s okay, baby, ‘cause why?”

Stealing a kiss from Soobin, you lean your head back, moaning softly to the feeling of his lips against your throat and his fingers barely brushing over the center of your panties. “You touched me. You helped me too. Ah, Binnie… please? Do it again? Put them in?”

“That what he did? Binnie? Did Binnie fuck you with his fingers, princess?” Lifting his brow when you finally give him some attention, Sunghoon smirks at you, letting his eyes drop to Soobin’s fingers, brushing over the wet spot growing on your panties. “You give him a cute name, and yet while you were in my bed, I didn’t get any of that shit. I’m hurt—”

“No, ‘m sorry, I didn’t know if you’d like it. Hoonie?” Pouting at Sunghoon, you watch his smirk only get wider at the shortening of his name, his hand squeezing lightly over his obviously hard cock through his jeans as he watches Soobin finally pull your panties to the side.

“I do like it, baby. Now tell Soobin about our playtime together while you drip on his fingers.” Scoffing, Sunghoon runs his free hand over his mouth, realizing what he is saying and how lucky he is to be in this room with you and even Soobin. Nothing was going to compare to this. He was harder than he had ever been in his entire life, and he hadn’t even gotten a chance to touch you yet. It was almost enough watching another man’s fingers slide through your soft pussy lips and your thighs jerk in reaction.

“Yeah, okay. Ah!” Biting your lips, you nod, trying to focus as Soobin’s middle finger circles your clit slowly. “Hoonie ate me out, felt really good.”

Lifting his head towards Sunghoon, Soobin lifts his brow and rolls his eyes openly as Sunghoon grins at him. “Yeah? He made you feel good? He better. Did he make you cum with just his tongue, pretty girl?”

Trying to remember, you lean your head back on Soobin’s shoulder as you nod once again, pushing down towards his hand. “Mmhm, yeah. He’s good, his mouth. Oh my god, Binnie, more?”

“When I’m ready, little slut.” Soobin’s sweet voice against your ear sends shivers down your spine as his finger circles your wet hole. “What did you do for Hoonie since he was so good for you, hm?”

Grabbing Soobin’s forearm, you feel tears gathering on the rims of your eyes as he barely pushes his finger inside of you, rocking his finger back and forth patiently waiting for your answer. When the tears roll down your cheeks, Sunghoon tilts his head, taking another step towards you to push them away gently, making sure you are okay.

“He—oh… Uh, I—I sucked his cock, right? I did okay?” Meeting Sunghoon’s eyes, you find him smiling at you, his fingers lingering on your jaw when you finally speak up.

“Better than okay, angel. Never had someone go down on me like that before. The things your mouth can do…”

Soobin could feel the jealousy rising in him once again. Yes, he had gotten time with you; he had felt your skin against his, your pussy against his cock, his fingers inside of you like he was now, but Sunghoon had felt something different. Taking a breath to steady himself, Soobin nods against the side of your head. He breathes in the scent of your perfume and body wash, letting it wash over him and calm him down. He had promised to try to share.

Pushing his finger into you deeply, Soobin feels your body react, how your walls clench around him and how you try to roll your hips over even just a single finger to get more. “You got all of that today and you still want more? You’re still fucking yourself on my finger? What else do you want, huh? My cock?” Meeting Sunghoon’s eyes, Soobin almost challenges him before he smirks and sighs against your ear giving in. “Sunghoon’s cock?”

“Yes, yes... please? I need more. I’ve been so good for both of you, haven’t I?”

Sunghoon couldn’t argue against that and the look on Soobin’s face told him that he couldn’t either. Though Soobin was a bit less enthused with how this was starting and he was still getting the girl, there was some poetic justice buried deep in this tangled mess.

“Course you have, baby, but you gonna let me taste you? I don’t think it’s very fucking fair I haven’t gotten to. You can’t take anyone’s cock in this tight little hole if you aren’t stretched out a little anyway." Soobin hisses out the last of his words against your cheek as he adds a second finger, carefully working it into you beside the first feeling your warm, wet wall throb around them. “How are you gonna sit on my cock like this? You can barely take my fingers, pretty girl. You want my tongue too?”

Soobin’s dirty talk had you drooling and feeling dumb as you nodded along with everything he was saying. The sweet boy who had been ready to get on his hands and knees for you yesterday had you dripping like a common slut around his fingers today as Sunghoon watched curiously.

“If that’s what you want, princess, then get your ass up and sit with me. What isn’t fair is just watching. We are sharing, so let’s fucking share.” Sitting on the bed behind you and Soobin, Sunghoon rests his back against the headboard and pats his thighs as you and Soobin look back at him. “Won’t fuckin’ ask again. Fair is fair. You can get between her legs, Binnie.”

Biting at his tongue, Soobin slowly slides his fingers from you, listening to your pitiful whines as he does. When you stand up and move away from him, he wants to scream and pull you back, but he watches instead as Sunghoon grins at you, grabbing the end of your dress and sliding it up your legs.

“Good fuckin’ girl, Angel. You don’t need this anymore. I didn’t get to see anything, ‘cept your pretty little cunt earlier, huh? Let’s see all of you.”

Lifting your arms, you bite at your lips as Sunghoon helps you out of your now stained dress, leaving you in your unmatching bra and panties. Crossing your arms over your stomach, you glance down before you feel Sunghoon’s fingers on your chin lifting your head back up towards him so he can meet your eyes. "Uh, uh, none of that shit. You are perfect. Prettiest fucking girl I’ve ever had in my bed, swear to god. Come here…”

Long, skilled fingers make quick work of the clasp of your bra so that Sunghoon can work the straps down your arms, letting you drop the garment into the floor at your feet. You watch as he shakes his head, a smirk on his lips, his fingers walking the line of the top of your panties before he helps you slide them down and letting gravity do the rest.

“So pretty, baby.”

Soobin’s voice brings you back to the room. Your head had started to get cloudy with Sunghoon’s fingers tracing your skin, but that voice brought you back to reality. Meeting his eyes, you smile at Soobin as he stands up and pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor before quickly getting rid of his jeans and boxers, not leaving you the only one naked in the room.

Just like the day before, you can’t help when your eyes fall to Soobin’s cock. It surprises you again how big he is and how pre-cum is dripping from his tip as he puts his knee on the bed and reaches for you, pulling you towards him for a kiss as Sunghoon shifts to his knees undressing behind you.

It isn’t until you feel skin against your back that you realize that Sunghoon is naked too. Hands grip your hips and you feel his cock bump against your outer thigh as Sunghoon chuckles next to your ear, hearing your soft gasp. “What? You didn’t want my clothes off too? I can put them back—”

“No, oh my god, please don’t.” You knew that Sunghoon was teasing you. You knew that he wouldn’t get dressed again, but yet you felt like you had to beg him to stay like he was so that you could feel his firm chest against your back as his hands found your breasts and squeezed gently, bringing a moan from your throat and into Soobin’s mouth.

“So pretty, god, I love when you sound like that. Lean back against him, Y/N. I wanna taste you so bad.” There was the whine in Soobin’s voice that you had heard yesterday. He sounded desperate again and you were dripping down your thigh because of it as Sunghoon settled back against the headboard and let you rest between his legs with his cock against your back.

Patting your thighs, Sunghoon guides your legs over his and smiles against your neck when you do as you are told. “There you go, beautiful; give him some room to work.”

Soobin wants to tell Sunghoon he doesn’t need his help for this, but the moment he spreads your legs for him, that all dies on his tongue at the sight. He had seen you before, but this was different; Soobin could watch the slick drip from you and run towards the bed as you anticipated him. It all had his mouth watering, and he couldn’t wait anymore.

Sliding down in the bed, his face level with your pussy, Soobin groans as he uses his thumbs to pull your folds apart, watching how they try to stick together from how wet you are. With one last glance up at you, Soobin closes the gap and flattens his tongue against you letting you feel the drag from your ass to your clit in one slow, smooth movement. “Fuck this pussy..." Soobin wasn’t even sure what he was saying; all he knew was heaven was between your legs and he was tasting it. With each pass of his tongue through your folds, he lets his nose nudge against your clit before getting frustrated when his glasses bump against your thigh, causing him to growl into each groan.

For you seeing Soobin between your legs, his glasses fogging up as he ate you like his last meal was a wet dream come true. You could almost see yourself covering his glasses with your cum, but after a few minutes, Soobin takes that from you when he angrily rips them from his face, putting them on the bed, making you whine out a no and making Sunghoon laugh behind you.

“I’m sorry, baby. Are you mad, Soobin isn’t fucking you with his tongue and keeping his glasses on?” Tsking as you try to turn your face from him, Sunghoon uses one hand to turn your face back towards him as he reaches for Soobin’s discarded glasses with the other carefully putting them on himself, lifting his brows at how strong the prescription turns out to be. “You’ve got some interesting kinks, princess. Tell me, you want to fuck me harder now that I’m wearing them?”

Moving your eyes over Sunghoon’s face, you can’t help but moan even louder when Soobin pushes his tongue into you, his thumb on your clit massaging it in tight circles. There was no way you could lie your way out of this so you just nodded instead.

“What a little slut we have on our hands, Soobin.” Pushing the glasses up to the top of his head, his soft hair pushed back under them, Sunghoon smirks at you as your eyes follow his every move with the glasses. “Don’t you worry about them, baby girl. I’ll keep them safe right here. Why don’t you cum on his tongue like a good girl?”

Glancing up at you and Sunghoon, Soobin groans against your folds before turning his attention fully back to you, as if demanding that you follow through with what Sunghoon is asking you to do. If Soobin had his way, you wouldn’t be cumming on anyone else’s tongue besides his. He would even keep it from Sunghoon if he could. But looking up the length of your body and feeling your hips roll against his tongue, Soobin knew that wasn’t going to happen. You were enjoying being between them both too much and he was getting off on it more than he would be willing to admit out loud.

“Good fucking girl.” Chuckling against the shell of your ear, Sunghoon traces each of your nipples, feeling you arch against his chest. You were driving him crazy and it was making his cock throb to have you rocking your body against his as Soobin ate you out like someone who hadn’t eaten in weeks. He knew you were sweet—the best thing he had even tasted, but there was something feral about how Soobin was almost growling possessively between your legs as he licked up every last drop of your cum. It was impressive.

“You got his face messy, Princess. The things we’d do for you. Look at that... " Fingers grip your chin tightly as Sunghoon tilts your head down so you can watch Soobin kiss your thighs, finally moving away from your pussy. “Face that has graced our university’s prestigious little newsletter so many fucking times because he’s some goody two shoes—” Smirking, Sunghoon meets Soobin’s eyes as he narrows his eyes back up at him from between your legs. “All covered in a pretty girl’s cum.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sunghoon, and move. I’m fucking her first.”

Sunghoon slides his hands to your waist and shakes his head as he nuzzles his nose against your neck, listening to you whine out a soft moan. You were so gone, just a dumb little fuck toy for them to play with at this point that it didn’t even matter, but it mattered to him. “No. Why the hell do you get to go first? You already got to go first—”

Lifting your head, you lick your lips and force yourself to focus on Sunghoon and Soobin arguing. It was ridiculous and just like when the group project had begun, no one seemed to care what you thought—until you spoke up. “Why can’t I choose? It is me you’re fucking.”

That was a good point and it caused both men to stop bickering immediately. Hands trail along your sides as Sunghoon nods along with you, his lips finding your ear as he kisses it gently. Soobin also nods, his fingers lifting yours towards his wet lips for a lingering kiss on your knuckles as he tries to wait patiently, hoping you’ll make the right decision.

“I—” Now that you had their attention and the ball in your court, it was scary and overwhelming. Soobin’s cock was right in front of you, thick and enticing you to climb into his lap while Sunghoon’s pressed against your back, leaking on to your skin, reminding you that you could so easily let him ease you on to it. Thinking was hard, but after a moment you just sigh into a pout and meet Soobin’s eyes, making him tilt his head like a question. “Can I have both? Is that too greedy?”

It was incredibly greedy, but it made Sunghoon’s lips pull up into a full smile as he held you closer to him. “That what you want? You want to be full?”

The words cause your face to heat up instantly when you remember how good at dirty talk Sunghoon is. Nothing seemed to really phase him; he would just say what he wanted to and get it—just like now as you nod, turning your head to meet his eyes even with your face so close to his.

“Fuck…” Soobin could feel his cock jerk involuntarily against his thigh at your words and the way you were shyly looking at Sunghoon. He had never done this before, but for you, he’d figure it out. From how Sunghoon was acting, this wasn’t his first rodeo and that somehow made perfect sense. If this had been any other day, Soobin might have been more annoyed. He probably would have made some comment about how much of a whore Sunghoon was, but right now he was grateful for his experience as he ushered you into Soobin’s arms and sighed.

“What—” Closing his eyes as you wrap your arms around his neck, Soobin groans, feeling you slide over his thigh. Your warm, wet pussy gliding over his skin almost scrambles his brain as he tries to keep his wits about him and ask logical questions. “Pretty girl, you’re killing me.” Scooting along the bed with you to where Sunghoon once was, Soobin rests against the headboard, letting you rock your hips over his thigh. Holding your hips, he glances from you towards where Sunghoon searches through the nightstand beside the bed on the other side of the room. “The fuck are you looking for?”

Making a triumphant sound as he holds up a small bottle of lube and a couple of condoms, Sunghoon glances back towards you and Soobin before letting out a low groan at the sight. “Baby… I was hurrying. So fucking desperate you are trying to get off on his thigh like a cat in heat?” Dropping the items on the bed beside you, Sunghoon leans to kiss your shoulder before groaning in disbelief as you lean your head back and rest your hands on Soobin’s shoulder for stability, trying hard to get yourself off as he looks down at you. “Our pretty little needy slut. You want me to fuck your ass? Huh? Yeah, well, you are gonna have to let me prep it first or it’s gonna hurt too much.”

Suddenly your hips come to a stop, your orgasm lingering on the edge as Sunghoon slaps your hip. You watch him offer one of the condoms to Soobin as he puts the other between his teeth, ripping the foil open with ease. With one small shuddered groan, Sunghoon manages to roll the condom on and turns his attention back to the bottle of lube.

“Be gentle with her. Be still, baby.” Cooing into his words, Soobin runs his fingers along your cheek to your hairline, never taking his eyes off you. He hadn’t minded feeling you grind on his thigh, but he could understand why Sunghoon wanted you to be still. He didn’t want any of this to hurt you. He was glad it seemed that he was going to be the one who was going to be in your pussy; the idea of doing anything else made Soobin’s anxiety spike. He had been told enough times that his cock was big, including by you, but he wasn’t ready to try to figure out the logistics of what Sunghoon was doing.

“Yeah, be still, baby. Hoonie is trying to work... Sit up on your knees for me, Princess; let me see that ass. Fuck…” This wasn’t something that Sunghoon had done often. None of these supplies were his, but the person he was borrowing from had invited him to participate in a couple threesomes and he had watched it being done. Warming the lube between his fingers, Sunghoon rests his free hand on your ass before he carefully drags his lubed fingers over your tight hole, watching it clench. “Relax.”

That was easier said than done, but taking a deep breath, you nod and lean your forehead on Soobin’s shoulder, arching your back to let yourself give into the experience. The first finger up to Sunghoon’s knuckle has you digging your toes into the bedding as your breath caught in your throat until he eases his finger in more, letting more of the cold lube run between your ass and over his fingers with each slow movement.

“Okay, Angel?”

“Mmhm. Feels weird, but I like it.”

Sunghoon could tell you were already pushing your hips back towards his finger after just a couple minutes of him letting you get used to one. “Want another? And how ‘bout a distraction?”

Nodding quickly to both, you glance over your shoulder to Sunghoon, finding him smirking at you. “Yeah, Hoonie, please? I’m—it feels good, but I’m empty. I want something. I wanna do something.”

Soobin furrows his brows and leans his head to the side to watch Sunghoon’s fingers as he holds your ass firmly with one hand and slides his finger out almost all the way before putting them together and slowly pushing them back in. The sound that comes out of your mouth is enough to make Soobin wish he were already inside of you or that he prayed more often.

“That’s it… You are so tight, beautiful. Gotta stretch you out, huh?” Nodding towards Soobin, Sunghoon keeps his brows furrowed in concentration as you dig your nails into Soobin’s shoulders. “You have a perfect distraction in front of you, Princess. Mark him up, make him pretty. The other girls around campus won’t know what the fuck happened when Choi Soobin shows up on Monday.”

Whining under his breath, Soobin meets Sunghoon’s eyes before glancing down into yours as you smile at him. He wasn’t against it, but it wasn’t the other girls he was concerned about. He had classes and professors who looked at him like he was going to be part of leading the next generation on the business front, and he couldn’t really be covered in hickies. “I—just nothing visible—”

“Yes visible. Baby, let them see who you own. Fuck that. You want us both, right? I’d be proud to wear them. You aren’t proud, Binnie?

With his eyes darkening with a challenge, Soobin grits his teeth before baring his neck for you. This wasn’t how he was going to lose to Sunghoon. He wasn’t going to prove he was more worthy of you just because he was more willing to display that he had been in bed with you. That was ridiculous; Soobin wasn’t ashamed of it… He’d gladly take anything you gave him, no matter who saw the lingering marks—classmates, professors, or his parents.

Running your fingers along Soobin’s neck, you whimper under your breath as Sunghoon’s fingers scissor into you slowly. It was tempting to mark Soobin and to leave him ruined for anyone else. You wanted to do it to both of them. You did want both of them. You perhaps didn’t know how much you wanted it until Sunghoon said it and then you couldn’t help yourself.

At first you simply press a kiss to Soobin’s neck, enjoying the soft groan that spills from his lips, but quickly the kisses turn into bites as you suck on his skin, which has him holding on to you tightly. With each deep thrust of Sunghoon’s fingers, another finger added, lust drips from you and finds its way to Soobin as you moan against his skin, making him yours.

Feeling his third finger moving with a bit more ease inside of you, Sunghoon smirks when you start to pant into your moans against Soobin’s throat. He could see the red splotches covering the other man’s skin and he couldn’t lie to himself and say he didn’t want that for himself. He wanted you to mark him as much as he wanted to mark you. He wanted to ruin you for anyone else besides him. The only fucking person he would ever let touch you again would be Soobin and that was only because it’s what you wanted.

“Gonna cum? From me fingering your ass? My dirty little princess is full of surprises.” Sunghoon listens to you sob out a moan when his fingers slip from you and leave you empty and right on the edge of your orgasm, once again edging you. “I love when you cry like that, Angel. I’d rather you cum on a cock. You wanted them so bad, you’ve made Soobin wait... sit on it.”

That was music to Soobin’s ears. His skin was on fire and he was starting to be afraid he was going to cum from just your mouth on his neck. Leaning his head back for a deep breath, Soobin licks his lips and focuses his eyes on you. “Ready, baby?” Sliding his hand to your hip, he strokes his cock from tip to base one time with the other, keeping himself in place for you.

“Mhm, please? Sunghoon is being bossy.”

Your voice is quiet and teasing, but just loud enough for Soobin to hear, making him laugh. Nodding along with you, he starts to speak to tell you that you are right, when all words die on his tongue as you slide your hips forward and over his shaft and fingers much like you had the day before.

“Don’t tease me, Y/N.”

You could tell that Soobin was being serious, and yet it was too tempting to keep teasing him. You almost wanted to see what would happen if you kept teasing him. In your mind, you could picture him throwing you down on the bed and fucking you hard and fast. Every scenario in your mind had you dripping over and more over his fingers and cock so when he does finally snap, growling your name, you barely have time to react.

“I said don’t fucking tease me. You want to be bossed around, little slut?” Fingers dig into your hip as Soobin pulls you against his chest and nudges his cock into your entrance, lowering you down over him carefully. “You want me to just use you like a toy?”

“You know she does. She’s pushing your buttons for a reason, Soobin.” Knocking one of Soobin’s legs to the side, Sunghoon moves to his knees behind you as he strokes his cock, his hand covered in the same lube he had used to prep you. “Just wants her little holes filled up so she doesn’t have to think, right princess?”

Sunghoon waits until Soobin has you settled completely on his cock before he repeats the process he had with his finger with the head of his cock. He watches how you clench around nothing before he painstakingly eases himself into you, letting you adjust and fall forward towards Soobin.

There are no words spoken at first, only moans and deep breaths, as each one of you has to focus on not letting go in that exact moment. You feel overwhelmingly full and Sunghoon and Soobin struggle with how tight you suddenly are and how even without moving they can almost feel each other inside of you, making their head’s spin with how different it is.

“Shit… Someone’s gotta move. She’s too tight. I’m gonna cum if we don't.”

Nodding along with Sunghoon’s pleas, Soobin holds your hips steady as he makes the first move, rocking his hips up towards yours. A chorus of moans fills his ears, including his own, causing him to repeat the motion only deeper and harder than the first.

Sunghoon rests his head forward on your shoulder, letting Soobin move you over him like a toy. He knew he should be trying to do more, but you felt so tight around his cock that he felt like he was going to explode at any moment. You sounded too good and the entire experience was too good; he shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he was—but he was just letting himself go.

You were too far gone. You were full and the moment that Soobin started to move, that was it. There were no more thoughts that could ever enter your mind. There were only Soobin and Sunghoon. You didn’t need anything else to survive. No water or food would ever sustain you like they would. Only being in their arms, having them in your life, or them making you feel this good could keep you alive.

No one had to tell Soobin or Sunghoon that you were going to cum. You weren’t saying any words that made sense at this point, only whines and their names, but they didn’t need words to tell them what was coming. Your body was telling them everything. Even though Sunghoon wasn’t the one you were cumming around, it didn’t matter; he could feel it. You were tighter and it took him over the edge with you so quick that he didn’t have time to catch his breath.

Soobin tried to commit the moment to memory for the rest of his life as if this would never happen again. The feeling of your soft walls closing on his cock as he buried himself completely inside of you, only to feel how you didn’t want to let him go when your orgasm ripped through you. Nothing about how his own climax followed suit was elegant, but it was something he would remember as Soobin groaned your name loudly and thrust into you hard and fast, hearing not only you but Sunghoon say his name when he came hard.

You weren’t sure who moved you or cleaned you up, but it wasn’t until the sun was peeking through the window the next morning that you realized that you were still in Sunghoon’s room. Lifting your head, you furrow your brows, feeling an arm over your stomach and legs tangled with yours.

On one side of you, Sunghoon had his cheek squished into a pillow of a bed that he and Soobin had apparently pushed together with his in order to make a bed big enough for the three of you to sleep in. On the other side, Soobin lay on his back, arm over his eyes, letting you get a clear view of your art work beginning to bloom along his neck.

Glancing down, you bring the shirt covering your upper half to your nose, realizing you don’t recognize it but it must be one of Sunghoon’s. They had even taken time to dress you after you passed out. Your body was sore; you felt like you could lay back down between them and sleep the day away, but then your mind starts to wander and the confusion and shame starts to seep in, causing you to look for the emergency exit as you wiggle from under the sheet, trying not to wake either of them.

“Where are you going, baby?” Peeking under his arm as you struggle with the sheet tangled around your foot near Sunghoon, Soobin yawns under his breath before stretching. You were even cuter this morning. God, he was screwed when it came to you. He had never cooperated so much with Sunghoon in his life as he did when you had fallen asleep and they had to clean you up. Reaching for his glasses, Soobin pushes them up his nose and rocks his neck back and forth as he sits up, watching you settle on your knees in the middle of the bed, realizing you had gotten caught.

“Um… nowhere?”

“Liar… You moved my covers. It’s cold. Can’t you lie to me from under the covers, Princess? Come back to bed.” Sunghoon’s voice is whiny and makes your heart tighten as he reaches blindly towards you, his fingertips running over your knee before resting on your leg as he yawns.

“I think—I thought maybe I should go home. Let you guys do whatever it is you do—”

“Ouch. The walk of shame?” Sighing louder, Sunghoon turns on his back, exasperated that you had made him get out from under the covers and look at you.

Opening your mouth and closing it a few times, you shake your head before looking down in defeat and nodding while shrugging. “I guess so. It was just sex, right? So I just need to bite the bullet and put on my big girl pants and get over it.”

Looking around in confusion, Soobin runs his fingers through his hair before Sunghoon laughs and sits up, putting his face in his hands, still laughing as you whine his name embarrassed.

“It’s not funny, Sunghoon! Oh my god… Why are you making fun of me now? Was I that much of a joke—”

Reaching out for your arm, Sunghoon pulls you back towards the top of the bed where he and Soobin are, causing you to gasp in surprise by being forced to move so suddenly. “I am making fun of you, idiot. You aren’t a joke, but this is some kind of joke if you think you are still the flavor of the week. I already told you that I like you. I don’t pass that out like currency, Y/N.” When you wiggle in his arms, Sunghoon rolls his eyes and looks down at you annoyed before looking at Soobin for help.

“We said we’d figure it out, Y/N. Don’t you want to?” Shifting a bit closer on the bed, Soobin holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, making you look at him. “I don’t sleep around and I don’t do this. I don’t have threesomes, especially with—” Letting out a sigh, realizing he doesn’t want to fight with Sunghoon or push his buttons, despite their past relationship, Soobin tilts his head and leans down to push his lips against yours as you rest against Sunghoon’s chest. “Wanna give it a try?”

You must still be asleep. This must be a weird, fucked up, wet dream that you were going to wake up from. Opening your eyes, you glance down at your arm before pinching it and wincing loudly, causing both Sunghoon and Soobin to laugh in disbelief. “I’m not dreaming.”

"No, you idiot... God, you are so cute.” It was Sunghoon’s turn to kiss you; if you thought you were dreaming, he wanted to help you realize you weren’t and it wasn’t fair that Soobin had already gotten a kiss and he hadn’t. Letting his lips linger on yours, Sunghoon lets his fingers fall from your jaw and watches you open your eyes once more, your chest rising and falling quickly as you seem to realize it’s all real and you nod.

“Two boyfriends is a pretty good deal, Princess. We are both smart, handsome, and wealthy. We’d spoil—”

Loud knocking at the door makes you jump against Sunghoon and Soobin’s arms before you all hear a loud sigh and a pleading voice. “Just tell them yes and get the fuck out of my room. I need to get some clothes and take a shower!”

Wincing at Heeseung’s voice, Sunghoon gives you a strained smile before looking around the room and back at the door. “Can—hey Hee? Can you give us like an hour?”

“No! Fuck, no man!”

More insistent knocking makes you wince and recoil in the bed as Sunghoon slips out from one side and mutters under his breath towards Soobin. “We gotta move his bed back and don’t fuckin’ mention I used his shit from his nightstand. He’s sensitive about that shit.” Looking back at you, Sunghoon winks and waves his hand towards you to get you moving. “Up, princess. Heeseung’s being a little bitch. We have to move our beautiful moment.”

“Sunghoon, you’re the bitch. What’s that sound? Did you move my bed again?”

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