#I haven’t talked about this older au thing in a while. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daisynik7 · 1 year

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In Between

Pairing: Eren x f!reader x Reiner

Genre: college au, one-shot

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: ~4.5k

cw: threesome, cunnilingus, nipple play, blow job, vaginal sex (doggy), creampie, horny reader (I mean, who isn’t), pet names, use of the term ‘big brother’, but there is no actual incest here I swear and I’m so sorry. This is just filth.

Summary: Your “big brothers” from Alpha Tau fraternity take care of you for a night.

Notes: OKAY, so I’ve had this in the back of my mind for a while now. Fun fact for those of you who have read my other series Rush: I originally wanted to make it an Eren x f!reader x Reiner fic but was intimidated about writing a love triangle, so I axed it. Instead, here’s porn with little plot to satisfy this itch. Enjoy! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated, I would LOVE to hear what y’all think!

Additional Notes: This might be the smuttiest one I’ve written so far, idk, you be the judge. As always, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. Also, think of this as an alternate universe to Rush, I’m using a lot of details from it, but there is no correlation. Okay, I’m done talking, have fun.

It’s a Sunday night and Sigma Nu Kappa begins their first chapter meeting of the spring semester. Petra Ral, your sorority’s social chair, stands at the podium, a delighted smile on her face. “Good evening, sisters! I have very exciting news: Alpha Tau has agreed to pair with us this semester! This means we’ll be joining them to collaborate on charity events and most importantly, social gatherings.”

There’s a collection of giggles and pleased hums. Mikasa, your big sister and best friend, nudges you. “This should be fun.”

Although the two of you are the same age, Mikasa rushed SNK as a freshman, you joined as a sophomore this past fall. She picked you to be her “little sister” when you were a pledge, adopting you into her family line called The Angels. Since then, the two of you have been inseparable.

Petra continues. “A neat thing we’ll be doing is combining families! We’ll be assigning each of our family lines to one in Alpha Tau. Consider them your ‘big brothers’. FYI, these were assigned at random.”

She passes a stack of papers to each row. When you get yours, you try to find which family you’re being paired with. Before you can, Mikasa scoffs. “Of course.”

Next to The Angels is The Warriors. You turn to her with a questioning look. “The Warriors?”

“Guess who?”

You pause to think, then answer, “Eren?”

“Yup. Random my ass,” she jokes.

Eren is Mikasa’s actual brother, older by a year. You’ve never met him in person, but you’ve heard plenty of stories about him from her. Petra notices her reaction and grins. “Okay, maybe yours is not so random. It just makes sense!”

“So, what are we supposed to do with our assigned family?”

“It’s just for fun. It’s a nice way to get to know the brothers and build a strong connection with them. They’ll look out for you and take care of you, especially at the parties.”

Since joining last semester, you haven’t properly bonded with anyone in the other organizations, too busy acclimating to sorority life as a new member. Now, with a bit more exposure to Greek Life, it’s time to build your own relations, make new friends. Maybe even find a boyfriend. It’s been a while since you’ve had sex, and you find yourself desperate for it. This new partnership with Alpha Tau is a good opportunity to find potential candidates.

And, with the help of your new big brothers, you might be able to achieve this.

~~~

The first exchange between Sigma Nu Kappa and Alpha Tau happens on Friday night, inside the fraternity house. The theme for the party is Game Day. Everyone is required to wear a sports jersey of some kind. You and Mikasa come in oversized basketball jerseys paired with black bicycle shorts. When you arrive to the house, it’s packed with your sisters and Alpha Tau brothers. Immediately, your big sis leads you into the kitchen where the drinks are.

You help yourself to a serving of Jungle Juice, the common frat party concoction. Mikasa, already on her second, mentions, “I texted Eren. He’s finishing a game of beer pong with Reiner, so they should be meeting us soon.”

You chug the rest of your drink, excited to finally meet The Warriors. Several minutes pass, in which you spend time chatting with your sisters and refilling on more Jungle Juice. You turn around once you hear Mikasa yell, “Finally!”

In front of her are two well-built men, one with dark, brown hair wrapped in a stylishly messy man-bun, wearing a sleeveless jersey, showing off his tone arms. The other has a shorter, blonde cut, standing a few inches taller in a football jersey, displaying his broad shoulders.

“Sorry, the game went longer than expected. Neither of us could sink a shot,” the brunette explains. You assume this is Eren, based on family pics Mikasa has shown you. “So, where’s our new little sis?”

You step towards them, hovering beside Mikasa to introduce yourself. They both smile at you, shaking your hand. “Welcome to the family.”

You exchange small talk, asking the standard questions to break the ice. Reiner, Eren’s big brother in the fraternity, is a senior, scheduled to graduate this spring with his bachelors in psychology. He hopes to eventually become a therapist. Eren is a junior, majoring in education to become an elementary school teacher. You were expecting them to be intimidating and arrogant, the stereotypical frat boys. Lucky for you, they are surprisingly easy to talk to.

In the midst of your conversation, Mikasa checks her phone and announces, “Jean just got here. I’m going to hang out with him for a bit, is that cool?” She seems to be directing it at you, specifically.

“Don’t worry, Mikasa,” Eren says. “We’ll take care of her. Right, Reiner?”

He nudges his big brother, who smirks. “Yeah, we’ll take care of her, alright.”

As soon as Mikasa leaves to hang out with her boyfriend, the energy shifts. Maybe it’s your imagination, but there’s a different vibe being alone with your new brothers. They have polite expressions on their faces, but behind it is something…sinister? Wicked? Naughty?

You refill with more liquor, your nerves getting the best of you now that Mikasa is no longer there to protect you. Before you tip the drink into your mouth, Reiner intercepts and covers the lid with his palm, stopping you. “Don’t drink that anymore. All that Jungle Juice will give you a hangover. Let’s take shots instead.”

“Yeah, we got some vodka in the fridge.” Eren opens the door to the refrigerator, reaching in to retrieve a brand-new bottle of Grey Goose. “Big brother here works for the Psych department so he can afford top shelf.”

“Yeah right, like you can’t afford it with daddy’s money,” Reiner retorts. “Did you know his dad is a doctor?”

You nod. “Yeah, Mikasa has mentioned that.”

“I’m not getting a cent after undergrad, though. He’s pretty disappointed that I’d rather be a teacher than take over his practice. At least Zeke’s going to do it.”

“That’s your half-brother?” you ask. Mikasa’s briefing of her adopted family, the Jaeger clan, is coming in handy.

“Yup,” he confirms, pouring the liquor into three cups, poorly estimating a shot’s worth in each.

“Being a teacher is just as important a job as a doctor,” you comment. “Maybe even more, considering the impact you make on the students. It’s a crime how underpaid they are. That’s my opinion.”

He offers you the shot with a small smile, watching you carefully. “What other opinions do you have?”

“Huh?”

“I’m sure you have lots of opinions in that pretty head of yours.” He passes the third cup to Reiner without taking his eyes off you.

You’re unsure what to make of his comment, so you don’t respond, pretending to be fixated on consuming the shot. The buzz is starting to kick in, cheeks warm, head pleasantly airy, inhibitions loosening the slightest bit. Luckily, you’re being taken care of by your big brothers so that you don’t do anything reckless tonight.

The other two throw back the alcohol easily, Eren quick to refill their cups. He waves the bottle at you. “Want another?”

You refuse. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Can’t hold your liquor?” Reiner asks, moving to stand next you at the counter.

“I know my limits.” You lean into him, comfy against his large physique. You play with the hem of your jersey, observing the other party goers in the living room, dancing to the music blasting through the speakers. Mikasa and Jean are nowhere to be seen, most likely doing it in his room upstairs. You spot a few of your other sisters dancing alongside the Alpha Tau brothers, having a grand old time.

“Should we dance?” you suggest, hoping they agree. You want to join in on the fun.

Eren chuckles. “Reiner doesn’t dance.”

He stands up straight, setting his cup down. “That’s not true. I can dance.”

“I didn’t say you can’t dance, I said that you don’t. I have never, ever seen you dance, dude.”

With a mischievous grin, he looks at you and says, “Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

In an instant, Reiner is leading you to the living room, Eren following close behind. It’s crowded, the small space not accommodating for the size of this party. The three of you squeeze in the middle, surrounded by other warm bodies, too intoxicated to care about being smushed. Someone shuts the lights off and only a dinky strobe illuminates the room. You start moving to the music, bobbing your head back and forth, swaying your shoulders to the melody of whatever top hit is playing. Eren is in front of you, copying your motions, a lazy smile on his face. Reiner is to your rear, close enough that you feel the fabric of his jersey brush against you.

Eren leans forward, lips grazing your ear. “You’re so pretty, you know that?” He shuffles closer to you, still dancing to the music.

From behind, Reiner drifts towards you, hands at your waist, his husky voice hot on your other ear. “You look so good dancing like this.”

It’s sweltering now; from the lack of air in the cramped capacity, the alcohol taking its effect, the swing of your hips in tandem with the bass. Or the situation you currently find yourself in, sandwiched by two extremely attractive men, breathing compliments in your ear, exploring your body. They trap you, Eren’s chest basically pressed to yours, your back flat against Reiner. His hands are still at your sides, while Eren reaches for your nape, pulling you in to kiss along your neck.

You should stop it. That’s what you should do. Whatever this is, it’s wrong. These are supposed to be your quote unquote big brothers. What would Mikasa think?

But something snaps in you. It’s curiosity. The need to know. What would it be like to be fucked senseless by them? It has your imagination running wild. How can you deny this opportunity? It’s basically being served to you on a silver platter.

“Let your big brothers take care of you,” Reiner whispers, nipping at your ear lobe, grinding his hips on your ass. It’s so wrong. So wrong, you keep chanting in your head.

Eren fondles your breasts through your clothes. “You want to feel good tonight, right baby? We can help you feel good.”

Is it the pet name that pushes you over the edge? Or is it the allure of being pleasured by two guys at the same time? Either way, you reach behind you to run your fingers through Reiner’s hair while you take your other hand to tug Eren forward into a sloppy kiss.

“Fuck, I think she wants it,” Reiner murmurs, licking a stripe behind your ear. “Let’s go.”

“Follow us, baby. We’ll take care of you tonight.” Eren grabs your wrist, leading you upstairs to follow Reiner into his room. It doesn’t seem like he has a roommate, considering the beds are combined to create one that is nearly king-sized. Too busy inspecting the interior design of a typical frat boy, which so far consists of flattened boxes of beer packs hung up like posters and a large Alpha Tau flag strewn across one side of the wall, the sound of the door shutting loudly brings you to your senses.

You’re very aware now that it’s the three of you, alone in this bedroom, air dense with sexual tension. Suddenly, you’re nervous. You’ve never had a threesome. It’s certainly been a fantasy of yours, but to experience it first-hand, you start having self-doubts if you can really go through with it.

Eren, sensing your trepidation, puts his arm around you, rubbing your shoulder. “Hey, you okay? We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Reiner, who’s already sprawled out on the bed in his boxers, clothes promptly stripped off, adds, “Yeah. We can just chill here. It’s all good.”

They’re not pressuring you, which you appreciate. You’re hesitant, sure. But you haven’t changed your mind. You want this. You want this bad.

“I want to do it,” you state, removing your shorts and tossing them aside.

Reiner laughs, sitting up to watch you, shoving his own boxers off. “You’re eager. She’s eager, Eren.”

“Yeah, she is,” Eren muses, tugging at your wrist. “Let’s go to the bed, sweetie.”

Reiner scoots over to make room for you, palming his growing erection, watching Eren strip you nude. When you’re naked, you turn to Reiner to kiss him. He smiles before shoving his tongue into your mouth.

“Lay down for us, baby,” Eren purrs, now naked, boner stiff against his sculpted abs, kissing your stomach. He peers up at you with twinkling eyes, almost innocent, knowing for a fact he’s about to wreck your pussy apart.

Reiner lies beside you, cupping your cheek, large tongue working its way deep inside your mouth. His hand trails down to your chest, squeezing at your breast. “Do you like having your nipples played with?” he asks, lips glossy with spit.

You nod, eyes glancing at Eren, his head positioned between your legs, palms spreading your thighs wide, staring at your pussy already sticky with arousal. Reiner refocuses your gaze on him, muttering, “Pay attention to me, princess.” Another nod and you close your eyes, kissing him, enjoying the soft caress of his hands on your tits.

Below you, Eren, the fucking menace that he is, doesn’t start slow. He wraps his lips around your clit, swishing his tongue against it until you’re whimpering from pleasure.

“Oh fuck, she likes that, Eren. Keep doing that. I want to see her come all over your face,” Reiner smirks, brushing his rough thumbs on your hardening nipples. He moves down, facing your chest, sucking on your breast until it’s hard and plump. “Fuck, your tits are amazing,” he rasps, flicking his tongue.

Eren gives you a break, slowly licking your sensitive bud a few times before latching on once more. It’s almost too much, body instinctually jolting from his touch. You endure it, though; the sensation too divine to stop.

“Finger her, Eren,” Reiner demands, as if reading your mind. The desire to be filled is overtaking everything else.

Tongue flat on your clit, he hums in the response, middle finger teasing your slick entrance before slipping inside, knuckle deep. Still, it’s not enough. Even Reiner knows it.

“Put another,” he growls, eyes focused on your pussy being wrecked as he continues to play with your tits. “Fill her up.”

Eren obeys, sliding his ring finger along with the middle, pumping his digits inside you. You’re a whining mess, unable to control the lewd sounds escaping your mouth. Drool leaks out from the corners of your lips, your tongue lolling out from being fucked out. Reiner chuckles, releasing you with a loud pop. “You’re a loud one, aren’t you? You need something in your mouth to keep you quiet.” He grazes your tongue with his thumb, staring at you hungrily. “Suck on these like they’re my dick.”

All you can do is nod dumbly, grabbing at his thick wrist to stick his three middle fingers down your throat. He pumps them into your mouth as he suckles at your nipples, like an animal desperate for milk.

You’re overstimulated, from having your mouth and pussy stuffed, to your most erogenous zones being consumed by lips and teeth. Your toes curl from the pleasure, throat dry from the endless moaning around Reiner’s rough digits, skin damp with sweat and saliva. The orgasm hits you like a wave of electricity coursing through your veins, exciting every nerve in your body. You whimper on Reiner’s fingers, tickling the back of your mouth, causing you to gag slightly.

“Fuck,” Eren muffles below you, still lapping at your clit. The wet squelches sound even more lewd from your noticeable orgasm. He flicks his tongue on your sticky mess, smearing it over your puffy bud, repeating the action several times until he’s satisfied.

“Ah, Eren. Fuck,” you breath out, mouth relinquished from Reiner. He has been relentlessly working your tits, swollen and sore from his efforts. When he’s done, he slides back up the bed beside you.

“Look at the mess you made.” He grips at your chin, directing your gaze at Eren, who’s face is glistening, smirk coated in your shiny cum.

“You did so good for us,” Eren says, crawling up the bed to join you on your other side. He gently pinches your tit, sucking on your neck. Reiner kisses you on the mouth, massaging the other breast. You grasp their hard cocks, stroking them simultaneously, resulting in both of them moaning.

“Fuck, baby.”

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Fuck yeah, she’s such a good girl.”

“So fucking good for us.”

The three of you stay this way for a while, erections growing unbelievably stiff in your fists. One of their hands, at this point you’re not sure whose, is at your clit, tapping it and rubbing fast. You’re convinced that you can come like this if they let you.

“Think she’s wet enough?” Reiner asks his brother.

“Yeah, she’s really fucking wet, dude. It’s going to feel so fucking good.” Eren answers. “Can you take it, sweetie? Can you take Reiner’s fat cock?”

“I can take it,” you breathe out, needy and aching to be filled again.

Reiner moves to the bottom of the bed. “Are you on the pill?”

You nod, humming against Eren’s mouth, occupied with kissing him.

“Good. I want to fuck you raw.”

“Come inside her, Reiner. Give her a fucking creampie,” Eren murmurs, kissing your forehead affectionately, despite the filthy words coming out of his mouth. The way they speak to each other, instructing one another on what obscene act to perform on you next, spurs you on. Makes you feel like you’re in fucking heat, ready to be bred.

“You want my cum inside you, princess? Want me to fill up that tight cunt?” Reiner spits into his hand then strokes himself, teasing your slit with his tip.

“Yes,” you respond, voice shaky.

“That’s not enough for him, cutie,” Eren whispers to you. He massages your clit gently as Reiner slides his cockhead up and down your folds. “He likes it when you beg for it.”

You’re too desperate to care about pride. You’re going to beg for this, no matter what. “Please, Reiner. Fuck me, please.”

“That’s more like it,” he grunts, stroking himself faster. “Get in front of her, Eren.”

Eren gives you one last smooch before sitting up and kneeling at the top of the bed, tossing a few pillows to the floor to make space.

Reiner taps at your hips. “On your hands and knees, slut. And stick that ass up for me.” His voice is raspy, demeanor rougher than a few minutes ago. Something has taken over him; it’s his carnal desire to fuck you into the mattress.

You do as your told, arching your back to give him a nice view of your pussy, wet and fluttering, ready for cock. Without warning, he smacks your ass cheek, laughing. “I’m going to fuck you so good. You have no fucking idea.”

Eren kneels in front of you, erect and oozing with precum. “You’re so cute, you know that? So pretty.” He caresses you delicately, thumb brushing against your cheekbone. “Can you suck my dick, baby? Pretty please?”

You’re beginning to understand the dynamic that’s going on here. Eren is sweet, tender, and considerate. Then there’s Reiner: rough, harsh, and greedy. Opposites of each other, working together to tear you to pieces, rip you into shreds. Two sides of the same coin.

You wrap you fingers around Eren, leaning forward to spread the bead of precum along your lips like gloss. He smiles at you, still cupping your face. “So fucking pretty.”

Reiner continues to tease you, gathering your slick onto his cockhead to rub it on your bud. “I’m going to fuck you now, princess. Let me take care of this pussy.” Aligned with your entrance, he slowly slides in, your walls stretching to adjust to his girth. You hear him suck in a breath behind you, cursing. “Fuck, you’re tight. Such a good girl.”

“You are a good girl.” Eren pushes past your lips. You take him into your salivating mouth, surrounding him with your wet heat, tongue tracing the prominent vein running along his shaft. “Our good girl. Our good fucking girl.”

You bob your head on his dick, further and further until he’s deep down your throat. You keep him there, swallowing around him, resisting the urge to gag on his cock. Through teary eyes, you peer up at him, looking for approval, wanting him to be proud of the way you take it. He meets your gaze, breathing heavily, eyes wild with lust, staring at your stuffed mouth. His kind disposition from earlier is crumbling; he caresses your cheeks tenderly, but his expression gives him away. Still, he stays still, hesitant to take control.

Reiner, however, is on a different level. He starts fucking you, pulling his cock out halfway only to slam it all the way back in, pace picking up gradually after each thrust. The force causes you to plunge further onto Eren, nose buried in his dark pubic hair, spit seeping from the corners of your mouth. Your muffled whimpers vibrate around him, causing him to moan from the sensation.

“Fuck, you’re doing such a good job,” he praises, holding your head cautiously.

Reiner holds you firmly at your hips, fucking you hard and fast, grunting. “Take my cock, princess. Take it like the fucking slut you are.”

You pull off of Eren just enough so that only his tip is engulfed by your mouth. With your fist jerking his shaft, you blow him, swirling your tongue on the slit. “Fuck, that’s it, baby. Feels so good. Gonna make me come.”

“Make Eren come,” Reiner huffs. “Make him nut in that slutty mouth.” He’s found your sweet spot, barely pulling out to hit it over and over. You’re soaked around him, convinced that your arousal is dripping onto the sheets, making a mess of his bed.

“I’m coming,” Eren warns, stomach tight, eyes shut. His warm cum shoots into the back of your throat as you suck him off, swallowing every drip. He slumps against the headboard, catching his breath. “Thank you, baby,” he murmurs, bowing down to kiss your puffy lips. “Thank you.”

“I’m gonna come soon. Gonna fill you up with this load,” Reiner growls. Your ass smacks against his groin, his heavy balls tapping lightly onto your clit. You’re close to your second orgasm, but you need just a little bit more.

“Come here, Eren. Play with it while I fuck her.” It really is as if Reiner can read your thoughts, aware of exactly what you need to push you over the edge, get you closer to that peak.

Eren crawls down the bed, kneeling beside you, hand reaching between your legs, finding your swollen bud. When he does, you cry out, “Ah! Fuck!”

They both laugh, Eren brutally rubbing it as he watches Reiner fuck you from behind.

“Look how creamy it is. That’s all her. She fucking loves it.”

“Our pretty girl loves getting fucked.”

“Pinch her little clit. Make her come on my cock.”

Eren squeezes your clit gently between his thumb and forefinger. It’s too much. You let go, the orgasm so intense, you’re trembling, fists bunched in the bedsheets below you, whining in ecstasy.

“Holy shit, I’m coming.” Reiner thrusts into you a few more times before his cock spurts inside you.

“Fuck,” Eren swears, loosening his grip on you.

Reiner stays in you for several seconds, coming down from his high. He slowly pulls out, his cum and yours leaking out of your fluttering hole. They both breathe out a satisfied fuck, staring at the flow of cum dripping out of your slit. Someone, you’re not sure who, plants a smooch on your lower back. Most likely Eren, the more affectionate of the two. You lower your torso onto the bed, relaxing into the mattress, exhausted and satiated from the insanity that just occurred.

Once again, you find yourself sandwiched between them, both facing you, smiling. You turn on your back to stare up at the ceiling, glancing at each of them, unsure what to say.

Eren is the first to break the silence. “Did you have fun, cutie?” He turns your head towards him, nuzzling his nose with yours.

“Yeah, I did,” you answer, grinning. “That was amazing.”

“You came so much, princess,” Reiner adds, chin grazing the skin of your shoulder, palm tracing languid circles on your breasts. Eren kisses you on the lips while Reiner works on your neck. The three of you stay like this until a phone starts ringing.

“Shit, that’s probably Mikasa,” Eren mutters, breaking away. He hops off the bed to retrieve his phone on the other side of the room. Reiner quickly turns you toward him, taking this opportunity to kiss you passionately as his brother answers the phone. His arms are snug around you, cozy and comfortable in his warm embrace.

You don’t pay attention to Eren’s conversation, focused instead on making out with Reiner. It ends as soon as Eren comes back into bed.

“What did Mikasa say?” you ask.

“She’s looking for us. Specifically, you. She’s worried.”

“About what?”

“Probably about us corrupting you,” Eren laughs, nestling his face into your neck.

“I guess she’s on to something,” Reiner responds, copying Eren.

You snuggle them. “She doesn’t have to know about this. It’ll be our little secret.”

“You’re okay with sneaking around next time?”

“Next time?” In your head, you already decided this would be a one-time kind of deal. Not because you want it to be, but because you assumed they wouldn’t want to do this again.

“You don’t seriously think this is the last time we’re doing this, do you? Baby, you’re too cute,” Eren says, grinning.

Reiner chuckles. “You’re stuck with us now, princess. You’re way too good to let go. Right, Eren?”

“Yeah. I think we’ll keep you for a while.”

End Notes: Happy birthday Eren!

#eren smut #eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren jaeger smut #reiner braun #reiner smut #reiner braun smut #reiner x reader #reiner x you #reiner x y/n #eren x reader x reiner #eren x you x reiner #attack on titan smut #aot smut #eren yeager

1K notes · View notes

kaleldobrev · 4 months

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Dean Winchester Masterlist

A rebloggable Dean Winchester Masterlist for your viewing and reading pleasure. All stories are Dean Winchester x F. Reader unless otherwise stated

Authors Note: Will update this as I post more stories

Come on Tiger (823) | You convince Dean to come to bed

You’re Not Normal (College AU) (556) | The reader and Dean become friends in a weird way

Happy Father’s Day (1.2k) |It’s Father’s Day, and the reader has some news to tell Dean

One Day (1.2k) | The reader and Dean talk about their dream life away from hunting

You Don’t Mean That (Demon!Dean) (2.3k) | Sam and the reader finally find Dean and bring him back to the Bunker. Sam says not to talk to Dean before they cure him, but the reader has other plans.

I Love The Way You… (2.9k) | Dean wants to propose to you but isn’t really sure how, so he asks Sam, Jody, and Donna for help

Nightmare Cure (1.6k) | You struggle with nightmares. So Dean comes up with a way to help you.

Autumn Vibes (1.2k) | Dean creates a new recipe in honor of the fall season.

A Date with Dean: Lucky Strikes (5.8k) | Dean and you go bowling for this weeks date night. But decide to make it a little bit more interesting.

The Comforts of a Winchester (2.2k) | Having a nightmare sucks, but at least you have Dean to comfort you.

I Dream of You (1.7k) | Dean dreams of a life with you, but do you?

Pizza, Beer & Zeppelin IV (1.2k) | Dean is surprised to find out what your ideal first date is; and he’s more than happy to oblige

You Deserve Love (2k) | Sometimes Dean needs reassurance that you love him

A Small Part of You (2.3k) | Although Dean is gone, at least you’ll always have a part of him

I Love Her, That’s Why (2.2k) | Dean thought that he was doing a pretty good job at hiding his feelings for you…until Jack started asking questions.

You Make Me Happy (2.3k) | With you doing what he believes to be an incredibly reckless thing on a hunt, Dean finally realizes how much you really mean to him

Old Man (3.4k) | Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way

Without Hesitation, Yes (2.6k) | After all these years, Dean finally asks you to marry him.

Spitting Image (2.8k) | You think Dean looks like one of your favorite characters. Dean on the other hand…doesn’t see the resemblance.

Come Back Home (4.5k) | After a relationship ending argument that caused you to leave the Bunker, you and Dean haven’t heard from/seen each other in over a year. Are there still sparks between you two? The better question is: Did they ever truly leave in the first place?

Daddy in a Different Way (2.5k) | A simple misunderstanding leads an older woman to believe that you and Jack are together, not you and Dean. But Dean does a “very good job” at clearing things up…But maybe not in the best way.

Pumpkin Muffins (930) | You and Dean decide to try new nicknames for each other

Days Like These (1.4k) | You and Dean decide to spend the day in while it’s raining outside.

Mutual Pining (4.3k) | Dean and you are in love with each other, and it’s obvious to everyone but the two of you

Please Don’t Leave (2k) | Dean’s lucky to have you in his life and honestly doesn’t know what he would ever do without you

New Record (1k) | Dean and you set a new record

Pillow Talk (1.2k) | A common theme of yours and Dean’s pillow talks happen to be about having that white picket fence and apple pie life

Happy Anniversary (Non-Hunters AU) (2k) | You and Dean celebrate your 18-year wedding anniversary

It’s Okay (1.8k) | Dean’s a little jealous that Sam still talks to you and not him

I Finally Get It (2.7k) | Dean thinks he looks like a character from one of your favorite slasher films. You on the other hand…don’t see the resemblance.

Genuinely Happy (506) | You and Dean enjoy a nice car ride together while you admire how genuinely happy he looks

Coming & Going (1.8k) | You want Dean to stay, but will he?

What Are We? (2.1k) | Dean and you do a lot of couple things together but yet…you’re not a couple, and you often wonder why.

Stupidest Person Alive (1.7k) | After a near death experience in which you almost lost Dean, you tell him that you can’t risk losing him again.

The Day Before (743) | Dean comforts you when you get a migraine

Once Mine (Michael!Dean) (1.3k) | Michael thinks him possessing Dean can be a win-win for the both of you

Knew You’d Come Around (Michael!Dean) (1.5k) | Michael’s happy you’ve finally come around

Comfortable? (516) | Falling asleep in Dean’s lap while he’s driving

Would You Like To… (978) | You and Dean have been dating for a few months, and now he’s trying to figure out how to ask you to move into his room

Midnight Confessions (1k) | You and Dean have a “heart-to-heart” conversation on the way to Stanford to pick up Sam

Hauled Up (1.5k) | Sam recruits you to try and convince Dean to stop hauling up in his room

When You’re Ready (1.8k) | A case hits you particularly hard and all you want to do is be alone

Never the Favorite (844) | You finally try and set the record straight

Screw Consciousness (410) | Taking a nap with Dean after a long drive

Things Overheard (2k) | Dean overhears a private conversation between you and Sam

I’ve Got Ya (162) | Dean trying to comfort you after a nightmare

Blush (389) | For the first time in your life, you can say you’ve made Dean Winchester blush

Taste (657) | Dean going down on you in the back of Baby

Under Control (2.3k) | Dean keeps reassuring you that he has everything under control in terms of the Mark. But does he really?

Not the Same (Endverse AU) (4.7k) | Part One | Part Two

Coffee Kisses (3.3k) | Part One | Part Two

Old Man / Age Gap Universe

Shiny New Toy (Demon!Dean)

Supernatural: Purgatory Masterlist | 3/? parts done

My Hero Masterlist | ¾ parts done

Dean dressing up as a cowboy for a case and using Old West style pick-up lines

Introducing Dean to phone apps

Going to karaoke night with Dean at a bar

Pretending to be married to Dean for a case

Eating Halloween candy with Dean

Being one of the only witches Dean can stand

Getting Dean the perfect birthday present

Dean still worrying about you even though you’ve broken up

Dean still answering your calls even though you’ve broken up

Finding out you’re Dean’s soulmate from Apocalypse World Michael

Wanted Posters (Incorrect Quotes)

Dating Dean Poem/Moodboard

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #spn one shot #supernatural imagine #supernatural one shot #dean x you #dean x reader #reader insert #female reader #fluff #smut #spn drabble #supernatural drabble #spn drabbles #supernatural drabbles #kaleldobrev dean winchester masterlist

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ladykailitha · 2 months

Text

Across a Crowded Room

*grumbles* I can't believe this IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE CUTE AND SHORT! Not only has it gotten a little angsty in middle there, it's about to breach 10k words. And I'm not even CLOSE to the ending.

The fuuuucckkkkk.

I was meant to be working on other things. Like editing a story to be beta'ed so I can put it on AO3 for you all, extending Batshit soulmates because I was skipping over too much, and wrapping up Glitters.

Guess who did none of those things because this story consumed my soul?

ME!!!

I will be posting this on Saturday as it's not one of my regular WIPs.

Enjoy. *sniffs* I guess.

Summary: Modern, no monsters AU. After they all graduated from high school the older teens drifted to other parts of the country. And while Steve and Eddie have made short trips to see each other, usually with the whole, they really haven't spent much time in the same room in years.

That all changes when Eddie is able to spend a week in Chicago with Steve and Robin.

But when Eddie sees Steve for the first time in years, he gets scared. Will have the courage to walk across that crowded room to be with Steve?

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

Eddie hadn’t seen Steve in years. After high school when they became friends through mutual parenting of six absolutely terrifyingly smart teenagers, they kinda went their separate ways.

Steve and Robin had gone to Chicago for college and Eddie and his band had gone further west to LA to try and make it as metal artists.

This is was the first time in a really long time that their schedules lined up. They talked all the time. Friends on all their social media. But they hadn’t seen each other since they said goodbye in Steve’s driveway four years ago.

Eddie was standing at the bar entrance where he was supposed to be meeting Steve, just staring at him.

God, he had been gorgeous in high school. Because of course he was. Captain of the basketball team, co-captain of the swim team, and the baseball team’s best hitter.

But he looked even more so now.

His honey colored, wind tussled hair had grown out a bit. A lock of hair flopped devastatingly in front of one of his hazel eyes. He had filled out some, once thin and wiry, now deep chested and toned. Even in the winterscape hell that was Chicago, Steve’s skin was warmly tanned.

He was laughing with a group of people and never had Eddie felt more out of place in his life, and that was saying something. He had been dropped off at his Uncle Wayne’s when he was twelve. Been nicknamed the “Freak”. And had always been flamboyantly himself: a big, gay, metal loving geek.

Eddie was about to turn around and go back the way he came when a familiar voice called his name.

He turned around and there was Robin Buckley. Steve’s platonic soulmate and best friend.

“Hey,” he croaked.

“Did you just get here?” she asked brightly.

Eddie nodded. “My flight was delayed three times. I haven’t even been to my hotel yet.”

Robin winced. “That sucks.” She looked at him more closely and he gulped. “You weren’t thinking of cutting and running were you?”

“Me?” Eddie said, dramatically clutching his hands to his chest. “I would ne–”

She raised an eyebrow at him, effectively shutting him up.

“I wasn’t gonna,” Eddie said mournfully, “until I got here. He just looks so happy. He doesn’t need someone like me coming back into his life like a wrecking ball.” He pulled out his phone and waved it at her. “Once I can get this charged, I’ll message him and tell him my flight got canceled and that’ll we’ll reschedule.”

She looked at his phone and then back up at him. “What happened to your phone?”

“My charging cable port snapped,” he grumbled. “And it died after the first delay.”

Again she winced in sympathy.

“You’re in love with him,” she said, “aren’t you?”

Eddie sighed and looked back over at Steve. One of his friends must have told a joke because Steve was laughing so hard his eyes were mere slits. He looked back at her and he sighed.

“The sky is blue, Midwestern winters suck,” he muttered, “and I’m in love with Steve Harrington.”

Robin rolled her eyes, then she got this calculating grin on her face.

“Uh oh.”

“I’ll tell you what,” she said slyly, “you let me do a little experiment with a small wager. If I win, you man up and tell him how you feel. If you win, you can tell him that your trip has been cut short and you have to go back in a couple of days and blow out his life again.”

Eddie pursed his lips and looked at back at Steve.

“What’s the experiment?” he asked.

Robin jumped up and down with glee. “I’m going to text Steve that I found you. You aren’t going to take your eyes off him the whole time. Then when I’m done, I’ll show the conversation.”

He licked his lips. “And what’s the wager?”

“You think he’s happier without you,” she said. “If that’s true, he’s not going to show a lot of excitement. He’ll be relieved and happy that you’re here, but no real enthusiasm. Right?”

Eddie just nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“I know he’s going to flip out,” she continued with that sly grin. “He’s going to be jumping up and down and looking around for you, trying to find you in the crowd.”

“What if it’s somewhere in the middle?” Eddie asked honestly.

Robin cocked her head to the side. “Then you stay the full week and suss him out.”

Eddie let out a long sigh. “All right. You’re on.”

“Good!” she said. She grabbed him by the arms and moved him a little. “There. Now he won’t be able to spot you immediately.”

He had let himself be manhandled because he had long since learned that Robin could and would kick if he didn’t do what she wanted.

“Now, keep your eyes on Steve.”

Eddie scoffed. “Easiest thing in the world.”

Robin snorted and got out her phone.

He really wanted to look over her shoulder to see what she was typing because he was eaten up with curiosity about what she was sending Steve. But he did as he was told. He kept his eyes on the most beautiful boy in the world.

Steve pulled out his phone and then his head snapped up. He looked around excitedly. He started flapping his hands and talking animatedly with his friends. Eddie watched as he smoothed down his hair and wiped his hands on his jeans. He pulled out a breath mint out of his pocket and ducked his head when his friends obliviously teased him for it.

He looked over at Robin in shock.

“What the hell did you tell him?”

She turned her phone around and he read their conversation.

-Guess who I found by the door looking like a lost puppy?

-He’s here?

-Eddie’s here?

-Where?

-Why didn’t he text me? :(

-lol

-Calm down, I’ll bring him to you.

-The idiot’s phone died and his charger broke.

-I can’t be calm, how can I be calm? He’s here! He’s finally here.

“Oh.”

The little frownie face at the end of the “Why didn’t he text me?” message did Eddie’s heart in.

He cleared his throat. “Um...if I were to, say, I don’t know, go over there and kiss his lights out, would I get hate crimed?”

Robin laughed. “No. And there is no one in his friends that would be nasty about it either.”

Eddie nodded. “Lead the way.” He bowed and waved his hand dramatically so that she would go first.

“Nerd.”

Eddie cackled as he followed her to the table. Steve was on his feet the instant he saw him.

Eddie was a weak man. That had been pretty well established tonight. So he thought he could be excused when he picked Steve up by the waist and swung him around.

“Eddie!” Steve giggled.

Robin scoffed. “Gays are so disgusting.”

“Says the lesbian,” Steve said when Eddie had put him down.

“Lesbians are a different flavor of gay and thereby aren’t disgusting,” she said with a half shrug like it was a truth universally acknowledged or some shit.

He shook his head and turned back to Eddie, who had yet to let go of his waist. “I missed you, too, Eds.”

“I missed you so much, Stevie,” Eddie whispered back.

“Yeah?” Steve asked, hopeful.

“Yeah,” he breathed and lifted Steve’s chin. He pressed their lips together and suddenly Steve’s crowd of friends erupted into cheers.

Steve broke the kiss and stared up at Eddie in awe.

“Wow.”

Eddie giggled. “You like that?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, more than a little breathless. “You’re stuck now. That’s how I want you to greet me every time now.”

Eddie’s face split with a large grin. “You got it, baby.”

Robin cleared her throat. “May I remind you two that we are in fact in public?”

Eddie and Steve looked over at her and then back at each other. Robin isn’t sure who started it, but soon they both were laughing like children.

Steve introduced him to the small group of friends.

There was a sofa near the table Steve’s friends were sitting at so Eddie sat down there, so Steve could cuddle up on his side.

“How long are you in town for?” A punky Asian girl with pink and purple streaks in her short cropped hair asked. Steve had introduced her as Maria Nguyen. They had a couple of classes with each other.

Steve looked at Eddie as if he had been wondering the same thing.

Eddie chuckled. “That’s the surprise I was telling you about, darlin’. Me and the boys got a record deal and their headquarters and studio is right here in Chicago. So I will be moving to the fair Windy city.”

“You’re staying?” Steve asked, his voice rising with excitement.

“I’m in town for about a week to look for apartments and shit,” Eddie amended. “Then I will move here at the end of the month.”

“Holy shit!” Robin said, glaring daggers at him.

Steve picked up on the latent hostility, but Eddie shook his head and whispered, “I’ll tell you later.” He pressed a kiss to Steve hair.

“You have a band?” a large young man with freckles and braces asked. He had red hair and wire rimmed glasses. Steve said his was Jason, Justin...Jarren! That was it.

“Sure do!” Eddie said. “Corroded Coffin. Me and my three closest friends, besides Buck and Stevie here, have been out in LA playing our hearts out.”

“Buck?” Maria asked, rearing her head back.

“Buckley!” Eddie explained.

“So what kind of music do you play?” Jarren asked, leaning forward, very interested.

“Metal.”

Maria snorted. “Like that’s Steve’s least favorite kind of music.”

Steve sat up. “It is not! There are all sorts of music I don’t like. Metal can be good. It’s just the screamo shit I can’t stand. Corroded Coffin isn’t like that.”

“Yeah,” Robin agreed. “Hell, Steve would put pop music below metal and you know how much he loves Tears for Fears.”

Eddie groaned. “I still can’t believe of all the 80s bands out there to be your favorite you pick Tears for Fears!”

“What? They’re great.”

“Stevie, darlin’, love of my life,” Eddie said sweetly. “You cannot honestly tell me that their version of ‘Mad World’ is better than Gary Jules.”

“Wait?” Jarren said. “They did a cover of ‘Mad World’?”

Steve shook his head. “They sang it originally. Here let me show you.”

He pulled out his phone and handed it over. Robin, Maria, and Jarren huddled around the phone as they watched the video for it.

“That was trippy as hell,” Maria said, handing the phone back to Steve.

“I know, right?” Eddie said.

Steve rolled his eyes. “He does have a point regarding this one song. The original version is too fast for what the song is about.”

Eddie cackled with glee.

“I still maintain that Shout, Head Over Heels, and Everybody Wants to Rule the World are absolute bangers,” Steve huffed.

Eddie kissed his cheek and Steve blushed.

“Wait!” Jarren said, “Do my eyes deceive me or is Steve Harrington, the man, the myth, the legend, blushing?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Not that again. I don’t believe it was ever a thing.”

Eddie sat up on the sofa, too and looked Steve in the eye. “What’s this, babe?”

“Stevie here made a girl come just by talking to her,” Robin said with a grin.

Eddie licked his lips slowly and Steve blushed deeper. “Did you now?”

“No!” Steve insisted. “That was just the excuse she used for running away after I badly flirted with her.”

Maria scoffed. “Dude, I was there, you did not flirt badly.”

Eddie pulled Steve close to his side and murmured in his ear. “I fully expect the full Harrington Charm experience, sweetheart.” His voice dropped really low. “Because I bet you could make me come just from the sound of your voice.”

Steve’s eyes went wide and he ducked his head.

Maria shook her head. “I can’t believe that King Steve got out rizzed by this swagless loser. How in the hell?”

“Maria!” Jarren hissed. “He does not look like a swagless loser. You take that back. He’s cool.”

Eddie turned to Steve. “Looks like you’re going to have to be the tie-breaker, sweetheart.”

“How’s that?” Steve asked. “Robin hasn’t said anything yet.”

“Ah, but that’s because I think I’m cool,” Eddie said holding up one finger, “and I know that Robin would vote for swagless loser.”

Robin snorted. “Damn right I would.”

“So it’s girls verses guys,” Steve said thoughtfully.

Jarren snorted. “More like lesbians verses the gays.”

Steve cocked his head to the side and then nodded.

“I dub thee my really cool metalhead geek!” Steve said solemnly.

Everyone’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Babe...” Robin said. “Did you just go down the middle of the road to avoid an argument?”

Steve batted his eyelashes at her. “Maybe...”

Eddie huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, pouting. Steve leaned forward and kissed the bottom of his jaw.

“How about my very cool, gorgeous, metalhead boyfriend?” he murmured softly.

Eddie looked down at him eyes wide. “Holy shit, you mean that?”

Steve nodded.

Eddie swiftly brought their mouths together and kissed Steve deeply. “That is acceptable.”

Steve giggled.

The night past in good company and drinks.

Eddie had duck out early because he still had to check into his hotel, but he kissed Steve goodbye and left with a spring in his step.

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Also, also. I forgot to mention that the title comes from a song by Counting Crows called Long December. So in my head I was singing, It's been so long since you came to (Indiana) I think you should!

Never mind they're in Illinois and the actual lyric is California.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

#stranger things #my writing #steddie #ladykailtiha writes

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cod-dump · 6 months

Text

Welcome Home (teen!ghost au)

———

Simon knew something was up. John was talking on the phone a lot with Mrs. Laswell and he kept looking at the spare bedroom. It was two little things, really, but it sparked a memory. Something he did before he sat down Simon about opening their home to another boy, Kyle.

Simon couldn’t be certain that’s what was happening. He was too nervous to ask, wasn’t sure what assuming such a thing would do. So he kept quiet, just watching his father closely. He didn’t say anything to Kyle. He didn’t notice, didn’t care, so why say something? There wasn’t anything determining it… that they could be getting a new sibling. At least a temporary one.

“What’s with the face?”

Simon blinked, refocusing on his homework before he looked up at Kyle who was sitting across from him.

“What?”

“You’re thinking hard… is it the algebra?”

Simon huffs, “Numbers and letters don’t belong together.”

“How dare you try to keep them apart.”

Simon snorts, Kyle setting his pen aside to stretch. Nik was lurking outside, Simon could see him leaning on his SUV through the window. He’s also been on the phone a lot…

“You’re making that face again…”

Simon shakes his head, putting his pen down and getting out of his chair, “Too many numbers. I need a break.”

Kyle stared at him concerned, Simon choosing to ignore him as he left the kitchen. He chose to step outside, taking a breath of the cool evening air before he sat down on the steps of the porch. The season was changing, everything cooling down and the leaves changing color. Simon loved this time of year.

“Homework getting your ass?”

“I haven’t admitted defeat yet.”

Nik chuckles before he walks over and sits next to him, groaning as he does. Simon wanted to ask, wanted to know if what he thought was happening was in fact happening. Nik would know, he knew all kinds of things, but he liked messing around and may not even tell Simon anything remotely useful. So he didn’t ask and just relaxed outside for a bit before he went back inside to finish his homework. A few days would pass without Simon thinking much on his father and Nik’s behavior.

Then him and Kyle would be sat down in the kitchen to talk.

“Boys, you remember Farah, right?”

Simon’s heart picked up hearing her name.

“Remember- Dad, she visited us for Christmas last year!”

John smiles, “How could I forget.”

“Haven’t really heard from her since February, though… Is she okay?”

Simon loved Farah. She was a couple years older than him and was basically his sister by this point. She had lived in the neighborhood since Simon was taken in by John but she ended up moving shortly after Kyle was adopted. She was his best friend before he met Ale and the Los Vaqueros. They somewhat kept in touch but the texts came by fewer and fewer to the point they were basically just them reminding each other that they’re alive.

“She’s been… having issues at home…”

Simon clenched his fists, swallowing. She was never very open about her home life and her family always appeared picture perfect. He chalked up any thoughts that he had about something going on to just him overthinking…

“How would you two feel about her staying with us for awhile?”

They both of course were more than fine with her staying. Simon immediately offered to help clean up the spare bedroom, he wanted everything to be welcoming for Farah.

“Just move the stuff in there to the garage, alright? We’ll deal with it later.”

Simon wasn’t sure what was going on and he was content with probably never getting the full story of what was going on while Farah stayed with them. Simon grabbed Kyle and took him with him to help set up the spare bedroom. He knew that getting it ready quicker didn’t mean Fran was going to get here sooner, but he was excited.

Kyle was teasing him for practically sitting at the door waiting for Nik and John to come back with Farah. Simon just glared at him while he texted Johnny. He had told him basically everything about what was happening and it turns out Kyle was doing the same. He was pretty much a part of this even though he has been at his gran’s house for the past week.

“We should have a group chat.”

Simon turned and looked at Kyle who was also on his phone, “What?”

“A group chat with Johnny… though I don’t want to see you two role play or whatever-“

Kyle was pelted in the face by one of the couch pillows. Simon was immediately smacked in the face with the same pillow before Kyle lunged at him. They were quick to end up on the floor considering they had already wrecked one couch (the silence that surrounded their father was something they would like to not experience again). So they were on the floor, Kyle trying to overpower and pin Simon while Simon was trying to pry him off of him. Normally there was someone to referee but—

The sound of a car door shutting gave Simon a boost of strength which allowed him to shove Kyle off of him. Kyle was sprawled on the floor as Simon ran to the door and peeked out the window next to it. The moment he saw Farah he swung the door open and ran out. The girl had a solid ten seconds to notice Simon after he shouted her name before he all but tackled her into a fierce hug. She instinctively hugged him back, squeezing his shoulders with an equal amount of desperation. it’s been so long since they had last seen each other and they were both afraid the other would disappear the moment they parted.

“Si, stop suffocating the girl and help get her things!” There was amusement in his dad’s voice, an undeniable fondness.

Simon gave an extra squeeze before he set Farah down, noticing the drying tear tracks as he steps away from her. He noted it before he ran to the back of the SUV to grab a box. His eagerness made Nik laugh and remind him to be careful. Kyle came out to greet Farah, them sharing a less emotional hug and something more casual and definitely awkward. Farah had always been Ghost’s friend that Kyle somewhat knew, he hoped that didn’t stir anything up while she was staying with them.

They had piled everything into the spare, now Farah’s, bedroom. Simon had so much to say, so much to ask, but he could tell Farah was drained. There was this look in her eye, something Simon had once when he was first picked up by Mrs. Laswell taken in by John. It went away with time, so he hopes Farah would come around to being her old self again.

“I need to wash some clothes… and make my bed… Fuck, I need a nap,” Farah took the shirt she fished out of a box and threw it at the growing pile near the closet.

“I can do your laundry while you nap.”

Farah sighed, “You don’t have to, Si. Your dad is already doing so much by picking me up and letting me stay here.”

“Hey, he’s doing it because he wants to. And I want to do your laundry so you can take a nap. You need it.”

Farah gave him a glare with no heat behind it, “You saying I look bad?”

“You look tired.”

Farah huffs and leans against Simon, slumping her full weight against him, “I am… can you do the laundry later?”

“Why not now?”

“I… I don’t want to be alone…”

Oh. Simon frowned, the urge to do something to comfort Farah making his hands twitch. He wasn’t sure what she’s been through and he wasn’t going to ask. So he decided to sit with Farah as she napped, her hand gripping his shirt as she fell asleep.

#teen!ghost au #call of duty #modern warfare #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john price #cod nikolai #farah karim #Drabble #ficlet #fic #dad price #dad john price

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candycandy00 · 5 months

Text

The Doll House - A Toji x Reader Fanfic Part 4 (Final)

You’re in love with Toji, even after finding out he trains sex dolls at the Doll House. Taking a chance, you sell yourself to the Doll House so he can be your trainer, and you bet him that you can make him fall for you by the end of the training.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Toji’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

Smut. 18+. Short Fem Reader. Cock drunk reader. Age difference (Reader is 20, Toji is 38). Size difference kink. Rough sex. Use of aphrodisiacs. Brief attempted rape. Lots of cum. Divider by @benkeibear!

The next day, Toji takes Megumi to school and makes arrangements for his uncle to pick the boy up afterwards. You’re a little sad to see Megumi go. While he started out a bit rude, he seemed to be warming up to you. Hopefully, you’ll get the chance to spend time with him again.

You and Toji have breakfast together, then spend the rest of the morning enjoying each other’s bodies. At lunch, Toji orders takeout, and while the two of you are eating at the small table in his room, he says something that makes you totally lose your appetite.

“So there’s a buyer who wants to meet you.”

The plastic fork in your hand drops to your foam plate. You knew this was coming, you’ve been mentally preparing yourself for it. Meeting with potential buyers is part of the process at the Doll House. It’s one of the things that makes the place so popular among buyers and people considering becoming dolls. Meeting with someone a few times before the purchase gives both parties a chance to feel each other out before making a ten year commitment. Dolls even have the right to reject buyers if they provide sufficient reasoning, though obviously they can’t just reject buyer after buyer.

But these past few weeks with Toji have been like a dream, like a fairytale. You’ve been so happy spending every day by his side, and now reality is crashing into your fantasy. You definitely haven’t given up on the bet, and you have almost two more weeks, but you realize that you have to play by the rules. You have to meet with the buyer.

“Okay,” you say, picking the fork back up, “I’ll meet him.”

Toji watches you, seeming surprised that you’re not arguing about this. “I’ll have the owner set things up,” he says after a pause, taking a bite of his sandwich.

The meeting happens two days later, in the afternoon. You sit in the welcome room of the Doll House, Toji standing nearby, as you wait to meet your potential buyer. Even though you still feel confident that you can get Toji to fall for you, there’s something nerve wracking about this meeting. Knowing this man wants to literally buy ten years of your life, if the meeting goes “well”, just makes you feel awkward and mildly creeped out.

When the owner walks in, there’s a man walking beside her. He’s younger than you expected, much younger than Toji. You guess his age to be no older than mid twenties. He’s not repulsive, in fact he’s sort of cute, dressed impeccably, and carrying himself in a dignified manner. But he’s not Toji, and seeing the two men in the same room together really drives that point home.

He sits down on the plush sofa beside you, not too close, and crosses one leg over the other. He flashes you a gleaming smile that probably cost him a lot of money.

The two of you make small talk. Mostly introductions and generic pleasantries. At one point he asks, “What did you do before this?”

“I worked at a convenience store,” you reply with a smile.

His nose seems to wrinkle a bit at that. He returns your smile as he says, “I work for a major investment firm. I’m in high demand, so I stay busy. I don’t have time to date and pursue relationships.”

In your mind, all you can hear is that he doesn’t want to put in the effort required to find and keep a girlfriend, but you keep that to yourself.

“So do you live around here?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah, I have a small apartment in town. It’s really close to the store I worked at, so I could walk there and save on gas.”

There it is again, that wrinkle of his nose, as if your frugality is disgusting. To be honest, you’re hoping he doesn’t like you, so maybe you’re emphasizing the fact that you’re borderline poor.

“You might have a hard time getting used to my place then,” he says with a smug grin. “It’s huge, three stories, eight bedrooms, four baths, a pool in the backyard…”

He goes on for a while longer, and you simply smile and nod, with the occasional, “Wow” thrown in. You wonder if he can tell just how much you don’t care about his big house.

The man moves his hands a lot as he speaks, and you suddenly notice light glinting off the gold, fancy-looking watch on his wrist. It’s quite annoying, and distracting. When he notices you looking at it, he stops and holds his arm up.

“You like it? I bet you’ve never seen a watch like this before. If I told you how much it cost, you might faint,” he says with a chuckle.

You give a small laugh of your own. “Actually, the light reflecting off it is blinding me.” Then you hold up your own wrist, where the watch you bought last year at a discount store is sitting. “Mine can catch the light too, and it was only ten dollars!”

Behind the man, Toji has one hand on his mouth, stifling a laugh, the other hand clutching his side. When he meets your gaze, he rolls his eyes in an exaggerated way and shakes his head. You have to fight back a laugh of your own.

The man looks at you sharply, and for the first time you get a genuinely bad feeling about him. He smiles at you again, but there’s something off about the expression. He looks like he finds you amusing, in a “here’s a toy I can play with and break” sort of way.

Later, after he’s gone, you and Toji are walking down the hall. “Can you believe that guy?” you ask. “Are all buyers rich assholes?”

Toji laughs again. “Nah, most of them are alright. But this guy? He sure was rich, huh?”

“If there’s one thing I can say about him, it’s that he’s rich,” you reply.

“Yep. That’s the main takeaway from that meeting,” Toji says, grinning.

You think the meeting went well for you, but pretty poorly for the buyer. Which is why you’re quite surprised when, two days later, the buyer wants to have another meeting with you. He’s going to have dinner with you in one of the empty rooms, privately.

“Do I have to be alone with him?” you ask Toji as you get ready for the dinner date.

“Buyers request private meetings all the time. It’s normal,” Toji says, stepping closer to zip up the back of your dress for you. “But it’s just dinner. He’s not supposed to touch you.”

You turn around to look at Toji. “What if he does?”

He gives you a smile. “I’ll be right outside the door. Call for me and I’ll be in there before you can blink.”

“What if he locks the door?”

Toji grins. “Do you think a locked door would stop me?”

You sigh as you turn back to the dresser and look in the mirror. You haven’t dressed up since you got here. Toji seems fine with you wearing casual clothes, or nothing at all. But tonight you have to look “fancy”. You reach down and pick up the glass bottle of Toji’s cologne and spritz some on your neck. Then you whirl around to face Toji again. You stand on your tiptoes and give him a quick kiss.

“Okay, I’m ready. But just so you know, I’m gonna be thinking about sucking your cock the whole time!”

Toji’s eyes widen, but then he laughs. “That’s one way to get through a boring dinner!”

You grin at him, sliding your hand down to palm his dick through his pants. “Be ready for me,” you say, “I’m gonna be famished when we get back to your room.”

His hand quickly moves under your dress, groping your pussy through your thin panties. “We have a few minutes, maybe I should fuck you right now, send you on your little date with my cum oozing out of your pussy.”

You gasp as you feel one of his fingers slip beneath the fabric and stroke your slit. “Please do! I wanna feel it dripping out while I sit across from him.”

Toji immediately turns you around to face the dresser, bends you over it, and hikes your dress up to your waist. He pulls your panties to the side and slides himself in, easily going all the way into your slick entrance. It’s a quick and rough fuck, with Toji thrusting fast and hard, making your legs wobble and your pussy ache. It doesn’t take long for him to pump you full of his cum.

You stay there, leaning across the dresser, trying to catch your breath. You can feel Toji’s cum seeping out and into your panties. Behind you, he uses his hand to press the fabric against your pussy, getting it all messy and damp. “Don’t change them,” he says into your ear.

“I won’t,” you tell him, finally straightening up and pulling your dress back down. “So while I’m in there, keep thinking about my pussy soaking in your cum.”

************************

Toji watches her walk down the hall in front of him and then go inside the room where the potential buyer is waiting. The door is shut, and Toji stands leaning against it.

Though he looks calm, inside he’s so riled up, it takes all of his strength to resist tearing down the door and fucking her on the table right in front of the buyer. The fact that she wanted to be filled with his cum while having dinner with another man is so insanely fucking hot, Toji is having trouble controlling himself. He wants her under him right now, or on her knees in front of him, choking on his cock.

He takes a deep breath and crosses his arms over his chest, trying to calm himself down. No doll has ever made him feel this way before. He enjoyed fucking them, sure, but he’s never felt like he needed them. But this girl… he’s getting dangerously addicted to her.

Time passes at an agonizingly slow pace as he waits for their dinner to be over. And when the door finally opens, his heart beats faster when she steps out. The dress is a fairly simple one. She probably bought it at a mall somewhere. But on her, it looks stunning. When she walks by him, he smells his own cologne, his own scent. It drives him wild.

The buyer steps out after her. He doesn’t look very happy despite the smile on his face. She probably made him feel foolish again, or just wasn’t impressed by all his bragging. Either way, Toji feels relieved that the date didn’t seem to go well. He tries not to think about what that means.

He doesn’t even look at Toji, as if the man training his potential sex doll to please him is beneath his notice. Toji doesn’t care. In a few minutes he’ll be balls deep in her tight little pussy while this asshole goes home alone.

Back in Toji’s room, she’s giggling as she sits on his bed, taking off her high heeled shoes. “You should’ve seen his face when I told him I love to shop at thrift stores! I thought he was gonna vomit up his dinner!”

Toji smiles as he watches her, noting how easy and comfortable the conversation is between them, as opposed to the stiff and awkward way she and the buyer spoke to each other. “So did you learn anything new about him?” he asks.

She snorts cutely. “I learned how many cars he has, where his summer home is, and that he only wears clothes from some Italian brand I can’t pronounce.”

“Oh, so you learned he’s rich. Again.”

She laughs and stands up, crossing over to him with bare feet. Having just seen her in heels, he’s struck again by how short she is. But she reaches up and wraps her small hands around his neck, pulling him down closer to her. “I learned that he’s utter trash compared to you,” she says, then kisses him deeply.

The next day, the owner calls Toji into her office to speak privately. He’s always found her office to be slightly intimidating, with its blood red carpets and decor. The desk she sits behind is made of deep cherry wood, glossy with polish. Her chair is lined with velvet, and she holds a folded silk fan in one hand.

“He wants to sample the goods,” she says.

Toji blinks. “Seriously? They’re not hitting it off at all. I get the impression he doesn’t even like her.”

It’s common practice for a buyer to want to “sample the goods”, as the owner put it. What that entails differs from buyer to buyer. Some want to see the doll naked. Some want to watch a few training sessions. Some want to actually have sex with the doll. It’s no surprise that they ask for this, as this is a ten year contract and a lot of money is involved. And so long as the doll agrees to it, which they almost always do, it’s allowed. It’s something that usually happens after a few meetings, and only after the buyer has demonstrated a serious intent to buy the doll.

“He doesn’t have to like her,” the owner says, “he only has to want to fuck her. You know this. Dolls aren’t wives or girlfriends.”

True, Toji thinks, but in his experience, both parties were much happier with the purchase when they got along.

“So? What does he want exactly?”

The owner doesn’t bat an eye. “Full sexual intercourse.”

Toji feels a knot in his stomach. His doll won’t agree to that. She can’t stand that guy. And… the thought of that guy touching her made Toji feel sick.

“Absolutely not,” he tells the owner. “She’s not gonna be willing to do that.”

The owner stares at him silently for a moment, then sighs. “Alright. Sex is off the table. How about I counter offer with some kissing and light touching?”

Toji doesn’t like that either. He opens his mouth to say so, but the owner cuts him off.

“Fushiguro, you’re one of the best trainers we have. You consistently provide excellent results. But there’s something off here. I’ve asked around, and it turns out you can’t get this doll to have sex with any of the other trainers. That’s a staple of your training! Now you’re bristling at the idea of the buyer sampling the goods. What’s going on?”

Toji suddenly feels defensive. “Nothing is going on. She’s kind of attached to me, that’s all. It happens occasionally, you know that.”

The owner taps her long fingernails on her desk. “So do something about it. Pump her full of your drug and send her in to meet with the buyer again. Give her so much she won’t care who he is. Don’t screw up and ruin your track record.”

Toji scratches the back of his head, thinking it over. “Okay, I’ll try it. But just kissing and light touching, right?”

The owner nods. “I’ll tell him tonight. If he agrees, we’ll move forward tomorrow.”

Later, when Toji tells his doll about this, she’s understandably upset.

“I have to kiss him? And let him touch me?!”

“Just a little. Nothing under the clothes,” Toji says.

She’s sitting on his bed, wearing pajamas - a tank top and thin cotton shorts. “But… I only want you to touch me,” she says in a small voice. It makes him want to pull her into his arms, but he doesn’t.

“Look, we have to show that you’re willing to give buyers a shot. If not, it makes me look bad as a trainer. I won’t force you to do anything, but I will ask. As a friend, can you do this for me? Just give him a few minutes. Let him kiss you and cop a feel, then tell him that’s all you can handle right now. He’ll leave and that’ll be the end of it.”

She looks at him with wet, glassy eyes, her lips slightly quivering. “Okay,” she says. “But only if you’ll stay in the room with us.”

He sits down beside her and puts an arm around her shoulder. “Of course I will.”

The next evening, the meeting is set up. Toji gives her a dose of the “aphrodisiac”. He expected her to reject it, but she takes it without complaint, saying, “I could drink a gallon of this stuff and I still wouldn’t want him.”

Like always, her skin becomes flushed and her breathing becomes rapid. She stares at Toji with lusty eyes even as the buyer walks into the room. He gives Toji a surprised, unhappy look.

“Are you supposed to be in here?”

Toji nods. “Standard procedure. You won’t even know I’m here.”

The doll is sitting on Toji’s bed, looking small and helpless as the buyer sits down next to her. Her eyes sweep over to Toji as the buyer’s hand moves to her face and pulls her into a kiss. It’s obvious that she’s not feeling it, and Toji thinks the buyer must be able to see that. But the buyer doesn’t seem to care, holding her face still while he sticks his tongue in her mouth, ignoring her whimpers.

The sight of it repulses Toji on a primal level. He’s watched countless buyers kiss and even fuck the dolls he’s trained, and it’s never bothered him. Maybe because it’s never bothered the dolls. Maybe because this doll is different.

The buyer suddenly begins groping at her breasts, his hands rough and clumsy. She draws back a few inches, but doesn’t push him away. Her eyes are on Toji, as if she’s asking if this is enough, if she can stop this now.

For his part, Toji wanted to stop this from the moment the buyer walked in. Every spot the buyer touches on her skin, Toji wants to gently wash for her when they take a shower together later. He wants to erase this entire evening.

After a few more minutes, Toji gives her a nod, and she quickly pushes the buyer back. “Sorry,” she says, “but that’s all I can handle right now. I’m still in training and-“

The buyer cuts her off, kissing her again, then suddenly pushes her onto her back in the bed, climbing onto her and sliding his hands under her shirt.

*******************

You thrash and kick, trying to push the buyer off you, screaming out, “No! Stop it!”

Then, all at once, he’s gone. One second he’s on top of you, pawing at you, and the next he’s simply not there anymore. You look over to find Toji literally holding the buyer by his collar, his feet dangling inches from the floor.

“This isn’t what we agreed to,” Toji says, his voice low. “And she said no.”

Toji drops the buyer, who lands in a heap on the floor. The man scurries away from Toji and then scrambles to his feet, his face red, looking incredulous.

“Who cares what she says?!” the buyer yells. “She’s just a doll! I’ll own her in a week and then I can put the little bitch in her place! The only thing this stupid cunt will ever be good for is sucking cock, and we both know-“

Toji’s fist smashes into the man’s face, so fast you barely see him move. Blood sprays across the room, and when Toji draws back, you can see that the man is now missing several teeth, his lips bloody and busted. You’re instantly reminded of your would-be attacker in the convenience store.

The man wobbles, but somehow keeps his balance. He holds a hand up to his shattered face and lets out a garbled scream. Then he looks up at Toji.

“How dare you!” he screams, the words sounding funny through his broken mouth. You think to yourself that he should just shut up and leave, but apparently a lifetime of getting whatever you want makes you overly bold. “I’ll have you fired for this, you son of a bitch! You’re just a trainer! You’re a nobody!”

That’s when you jump out of the bed, rush over, and kick the barely standing man right between his thighs. “Compared to Toji, you’re nothing!” you scream. “And I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on earth!”

Toji comes over to stand beside you as the man howls and crumples over. “Nice kick, babe!”

You smile proudly at him. “Thanks!”

The man is looking up at both of you with angry, watery eyes. “I’ll sue! I’ll have this place shut down!”

Toji bends down and yanks the buyer up by his shirt. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, you sniveling little fuck.” Toji opens the door and drags the younger man bodily into the hall. You follow behind, and the man loudly screams insults, becoming hysterical now.

The other doors in the hall open as the rest of the trainers step out to see what the commotion is about. Even Sukuna is in the hallway now, watching the unfolding scene with a grin on his face.

The buyer notices them all and screams, “What are you looking at?! This place is nothing but a whore house anyway! All the women here are filthy sluts!”

Toji pauses in the middle of the hall. Six pairs of eyes suddenly darken and narrow. The man falls silent at the sight. Toji’s voice is dangerously low as he says, “Now you’ve pissed off the last six guys on earth that you ever wanna make angry. You don’t insult dolls in this house.”

The other trainers begin walking menacingly down the hall toward Toji and the man, and they follow as Toji drags him into the parking lot. You decide to stay inside, but you can hear the man screaming for a long while after that.

When Toji comes back inside, you’re waiting in his room for him. He sits down beside you on the bed and says, “Are you okay?”

You nod, leaning your head onto his shoulder. “I’m fine. I wasn’t scared. I knew you wouldn’t let things go too far.”

Toji looks down at his bloody knuckles. “I wanted to kill him,” he admits, “but I guess giving him a beating he’ll never forget is good enough.”

“Are you gonna get in trouble for that?” you ask, suddenly worried.

“Nah, he tried to force himself on you. I just stopped a crime. He’ll be removed from the client list so he can never come back here. Not that he ever would after tonight.”

“Thank you, Toji. You saved me again,” you say, snuggling closer to him.

He glances down at you, then after being quiet for a few moments, he says, “You said before that you wanted me to tell you about any happy memories I have.”

You look up at him. “Yeah.”

“Well I don’t have a lot of those, to be honest,” he tells you. “But the ones I do have… they all involve Yumi. Megumi’s mom. Do you still wanna hear about it?”

You nod vigorously.

Toji takes a breath, then goes on. “I don’t have a good relationship with my family. I ran away from home when I was a teenager, grew up mostly on the streets, got into gambling, drinking, all that stuff. So I wasn’t the nicest person when I met her. But she burst into my life like a sunbeam. She was chatty and funny and always smiling. And I guess that cheery attitude rubbed off on me a little. We got married, she got pregnant, had Megumi, and at the time I thought, ‘So this is what it’s like to have a happy family’.”

He stops for a moment, smiling at the memory. Then the smile fades. “Yumi got the diagnosis when Megumi was three months old. An aggressive cancer. No chance of survival. They gave her six months. You know, right up until the end, it didn’t feel real. Somewhere in the back of my mind I believed she’d get better. They’d suddenly invent a new drug or she’d go into remission or… or something. I kept thinking we’d get a miracle. But we didn’t. She died five months later. Didn’t even get the full six months.”

Toji’s eyes are clouded with sorrow as he takes another pause, then continues. “I tried to hold it together for Megumi’s sake. I really did. But I just couldn’t. Losing Yumi… it was like losing a vital organ. How was I supposed to live after that? So I went back to all my old habits. Staying drunk off my ass, gambling all my money away, getting into bar fights… anything to keep myself from thinking about Yumi. Then one night I got arrested, and I lost custody of Megumi.”

He notices the sad look on your face and smiles. “It was probably for the best. I wasn’t much of a father to him. And my relatives took him in so he could avoid the foster care system. That was probably my lowest point, but it was a wake up call. I stopped gambling, stopped fighting, got a job… I wouldn’t say I’ve completely turned my life around, because I’m still not raising my own son, but I’m in a much better place than I was.”

“I’m happy for you. That was a lot to overcome,” you tell him, taking one of his hands in yours.

He looks down at you with a warm expression, one you’ve never seen on his face before. “All this is to say, I have a lot of baggage. I’m pushing forty, I have an unruly kid who hates me, and a dead wife I’m never gonna stop loving. If you still think ten years with me is a prize, I’ll keep you.”

Your eyes widen and your lips fall open. “Does this mean… I won the bet?”

Toji looks a little embarrassed as he looks away from your face. “Ah, well, the truth is, these past few weeks, I’ve been feeling things I haven’t felt since Yumi was alive. And it kinda scared me. So I tried to ignore it, but tonight the truth slapped me in the face. The thought of some other man, any other man, touching you… it’s unbearable. Right now, my biggest fear is losing you.”

Eyes brimming with tears, you crawl into his lap, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m so happy, Toji! I love you!”

He kisses the top of your head, rubbing your back. “I love you too.”

The words sound like music to you. They’re everything you’ve ever wanted. You rise up to face him, looking into his eyes. “So, am I yours now?”

“Not yet. You have to complete the training, then your contract will transfer to me.”

You kiss him on the lips. “I can’t wait.”

His hands rubbing your back begin to slide your shirt up. “You really in such a hurry to belong to me?”

You hold your arms up for him to pull your shirt over your head. “I’ve belonged to you for over two years now,” you say. “You just didn’t realize it.”

He grins, turning you sideways in his lap so he can slide your skirt and panties down your legs and off your ankles. Then you turn back to face him again, your legs straddling him. You’re completely naked in his lap, your wet pussy rubbing against the soft fabric of his pants as you lightly grind into him. “Toji, please,” you say, arching your back.

“What do you want?” he asks, a bit teasingly.

“I want you inside me,” you breathe out. “Always.”

His hand moves down to the waistband of his pants, where he pulls the front down. His cock springs free, already hard. He lifts you up slightly so that you can get in position, then you sink down onto it, letting it fill you completely. You moan as you feel the tip hit your cervix. Fuck, if it wasn’t there, he could probably literally fuck your womb.

You grip his shoulders as you slowly begin to move up and down, enjoying the way your body stretches to accommodate him. It’s like you were made for each other. You were already so wet for him, there’s a vulgar squelching sound coming from your groin.

After a few minutes of slow and shallow motions to prepare yourself, you slide all the way down again and wait. Within seconds, his strong hands are gripping your waist, and he stands up, holding you onto him. Your legs automatically wrap around him, and soon he’s holding you in midair, fucking up into you while his mouth devours yours.

He’s going so hard and so deep that you have tears in your eyes, your face scrunching up in pain. But it feels so good, so satisfying, to have the man you love touching the deepest parts of you. Your hands are in his hair, on his neck, your mouth open and accepting his tongue and saliva, your body jerking with his powerful thrusts.

“I love you,” you murmur after breaking the kiss. “I love you so much, Toji!”

One of his arms circles around your back, pulling you even closer, while his other hand moves to the back of your head, fingers gently threading through your hair. The contrast between the soft, affectionate gesture and his cock roughly pounding between your thighs sends you over the edge. Your upper body collapses against his chest, your arms weakly clinging to his neck as you tremble through an orgasm. His hands are still gently holding you as he thrusts into you, finally shooting his seed into your core.

Afterwards, he carries you to the bathroom where he helps you shower, then the two of you climb into bed. Lying beside him in the dark, you look at his vague outline and say, “You won’t get tired of me after the contract ends, will you?”

He laughs. “Are you kidding? You’ll be the one kicking my old wrinkly ass to the curb in ten years!”

You sit up suddenly. “Never! I don’t care how old you are!”

He laughs again and pulls you into his arms. “I gotta tell you something,” he says in a strangely quiet voice. “A couple years ago I bought a little house a few miles outside of town. It’s nothing too fancy, but it’s paid for with the money I’ve made as a trainer. I kept thinking I’d retire and move out there with Megumi, finally be a dad, you know? But it just never happened. Now though… I’m thinking a lot about that again.”

You feel tears stinging your eyes again, and you wipe them with the back of your hand, smiling. “That sounds like a dream!”

He leans over to kiss you, his lips hitting your nose in the darkness, and the two of you laugh. You can’t wait for the training to be finished, so your future can begin.

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji smut #toji x you #toji fushiguro smut

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wongyuuu · 6 months

Text

memories of us | lsm

pairing: seokmin x f!reader - soulmate!au summary: every night seokmin dreams of his past lifes, when he met and fell for his soulmate countless times. genre: fluff, angst word count: 11.9k warnings: reader has really low self esteem a/n: this is not, in any way, connected to elevator. both stories are centered around soulmates, however the rules are different. in elevator people carry marks that vanish from their bodies once they meet their soulmate, here is the bond is created by eye contact. i hope you enjoy it :)

Today, when I woke up, the first thing I thought about was you, but that’s not something new. You’re always the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last one before I go to sleep. My mind is consumed by thoughts of you the entire day. There’s not a single minute when you don’t make your presence noticed, even if you’re not really here by my side. The funny thing is that I haven’t met you yet and somehow you are the only one in my mind.

I started to dream of you when I was sixteen. At the time I had no idea of what was going on, I didn’t know what Memorous were, and I couldn’t even phantom why I was dreaming of an older version of myself. I was young and the naive teenager version of me thought that it was something everyone goes through. Ah, maybe these are memories from my past lives. I was right about that part, but I didn’t know the length of what was going on with me.

It was only a month later when I told anyone about it. Because those dreams were something no one ever mentioned around me before, so I was afraid to speak about them. What if, because of those dreams, people started to label me as a freak? I had already a very negative reputation, so to say, I didn’t want to make it worse. When I finally mustered the courage to talk to someone about it, I figured that I should tell my mom about it. She was a mother, my mom, and like all moms she would probably know what to do.

She didn’t.

For a while, she just sat there and stared at me, not like I was a freak but as if I had become a stranger. I was no longer Lee Seokmin, her eldest son who on most days seemed like the youngest. I saw her eyes change that day, from a mother who loved her son to a woman who didn’t know who the boy in front of her was.

It was also the first time that someone told me that I was cursed.

None of us could be sure whether I was cursed or not, but she said it with so much belief that I knew that it had to be true.

I don’t think I have ever felt so alone. Before my mother said those words to me, those words that would be forever stuck in my brain, you are cursed, Seokmin, and there’s nothing any of us can do to change that, I used to be normal - or as normal as a sixteen-year-old hyperactive boy could be. But the second those words were uttered, released into the world, something inside me changed.

I think that the best way to describe it would be a click, I felt a click inside my heart. There’s no other word I could use to describe it.

After everything that happened in the span of minutes, I changed. I started to be more restricted, no one else in the world knew about the dreams or about me being a Memorous. My circle of friends got smaller and smaller. What if, by accident, I told one of them something about the dreams, about you? That couldn’t happen.

In reality, I didn’t have many friends. You know, the kind you tell secrets to and are really close to. Those were the kinds of people that I wanted to avoid at all costs. I wasn’t a loner, though. I had people I could hang out with, people that I would go to a bar or a club with, but I liked to be alone.

It’s weird, isn’t it? I had friends but I wasn’t actually friends with any of them. I wasn’t a loner but the thing I enjoyed the most was being alone.

When I turned eighteen and high school was finally over, I moved away from home. For two years I saved every cent that I could, my main goal was to just leave. I studied my eyes off in school so I could get into a university that was as far away as possible from home. I needed to get a scholarship so I wouldn’t need to ask for help from my parents.

Doing those two things made me feel somewhat proud of myself. It was like I was telling them see just because you think I’m cursed doesn’t mean that I can’t do what I want.

Let me explain to you how the dreams work: every night I dream of you, no exception but every night is a different life.

This is how Memorous must live. I remember every single thing about our past lives, all the details that people usually forget about their lives. I remember them, more or less. I know what you were wearing on April 18th, 1811; I know what was the first word you said to me in Madrid, it was a curse by the way; the first time we bonded.

Sometimes it feels so real that I think if I look by my side, I’ll see you there. That couldn’t be true, I haven’t seen you in this lifetime - I would never be able to let you go if I had.

There’s a trick about being a Memorous though. Once I fall asleep and dream of a different life everything I dreamed the night before vanishes and I can’t remember anything. At first, I thought that it happened like that because sometimes we forget about the dreams we have. It was as if it simply vanished from my mind, and I could only remember it when I dreamt of the same life again. It’s like a selective memory kind of thing.

You know, the feeling of a dream being so real that you could either wake up in panic or just really happy and satisfied?

For me, every dream was like that. If I held your hand in my dream, when I woke up I would still get the feel of your skin against mine; if we fought for whatever reason I would still feel the sadness and the anger lingering in my body.

When I understood what was happening, I started to write down the dreams, every little detail that I could remember. Slowly I started to find a pattern in the dreams, slowly I learned to tell the lives apart and so I started notebooks. It’s a little weird, I know, but I had to keep track of our lives. Maybe, at some level, you might think that I’m crazy or that I’m a stalker. But could it be considered stalking when it’s my own life?

I can’t wait to meet you. Although I haven’t actually met you or even seen you this time around, I feel like I have known you all my life. Is this the feeling we’ll get when we finally meet, this feeling of fullness?

I wonder if you feel that too.

Out of all our lives together I have a favorite one. I mean, it is expected, isn’t it? After such a long time of living countless lives, every day being a different person - although I’m ultimately the same - we are bound to have a favorite one.

If I do say so myself that life is very much Shakespearean. Okay, so imagine this: two families who were very powerful but were opposites and hated each other with a burning passion. And there you have it. Sounds very much like Romeo and Juliet, doesn’t it? Maybe if it happened a couple hundred years earlier, in England, then maybe I could say that we actually inspired him, but we happened far too late.

You know, I still remember the first time I saw you that time around. I think that maybe that bond was the strongest one we’ve had, probably because we were supposed to hate each other. The idea of an unexpected bond between two opposite families is kind of thrilling, isn’t it?

We met at a party. Because our families couldn’t even stand to be in the same space together, mostly our dads - why is it always the dads though? -, they send you and me to represent the families. As you can probably imagine, we had no idea of what the other person looked like.

So, there I was walking inside this immense ballroom, and you were the first person I saw. Looking at you I just knew that you were out of place, that kind of environment wasn’t one you felt comfortable in. At that point, you weren’t looking at me but when you finally did, it was like the entire world stopped. I felt my heart thump inside my chest, but I could feel you too. I saw as you went wide-eyed. You took a step closer to me but then, realizing what you did, you took a couple of steps back. For the entire night, we didn’t approach each other but my eyes never left yours, as yours never left mine.

We followed each other through the night. I got angry, really angry, when someone wanted to talk to me because all I wanted to do was look at you. Whenever my feelings changed, I would feel yours changing too. You felt mostly curiosity. How could this man, someone you had never seen before, catch your attention in such a way that you couldn’t look at anything or anyone else?

Back then it wasn’t like today, you know. The bond happened more quietly, or maybe we only thought it did. Though the bond is something that has been around since the beginning of time, we only found out about it much later in life. I suppose that back then we still didn’t know much about it. Maybe the change everyone felt around a couple that was bonding was there but because we didn’t know what it was supposed to be we just overlooked it.

Back to the story.

You were the first one to make a move to leave but I couldn’t let you go, no way. I followed you out and much to my own surprise you were waiting for me, because somehow you knew that I had to go after you. We didn’t say much, just promised to meet each other a couple of days later.

From that moment on, things took off, or as much as you could possibly expect from a couple in the early nineteen century. We would always meet each other. Everything was exciting because no one could know about what we were doing. Besides the whole ‘my family hates yours’ problem that we had, there was also the problem that both of us were promised to other people. You were supposed to marry a young Duque and I had to marry the daughter of a rich family. If we were against it before, imagine what it was like after we found out about how we felt for each other.

Our happiness didn’t last very long. We were careless and, although we were trying to hide it, we weren’t as stealthy about it as we liked to imagine.

It’s needless to say that when our families found out they were far from happy. They didn’t try to kill us or anything that dramatic, but they started to rush things. Your marriage that was supposed to happen only a year later was set to two weeks later; mine was happening in a few days. Of course, neither of us accepted that.

On the night before my wedding, I felt something trying to pull me. It was like my legs were moving on their own and I saw myself walking out of the house and into the city. I found you there, all alone in the middle of the street, staring at the church I was supposed to get married in. I realized then that the sadness I felt was only partially mine, a lot of it was coming from you. I didn’t really understand how it was possible for me to feel everything that you were feeling but I knew that there wasn’t another explanation for it.

You couldn’t control your emotions and tears were running down your cheeks, you tried hard to push them aside, but it was of no use. The more you tried to make the tears stop the more they fell. I couldn’t control myself by then. You were afraid when my arm went around you but once you knew that it was me you turned in my arms. The tears that ran down your face were no longer out of pain and hurt, they were because we were finally reunited.

We ran away. We didn’t take anything with us. There was no time to go home and get clothes, or say goodbye. We were sure that if we were together then everything would be alright. Because we had each other nothing in the world nothing could hurt us.

That's… that’s as far as the dreams go. I’d like to think that we had a happy ending.

Two years into college I finally understood what my mom meant when she said that I am cursed.

You see, the dreams I have at night are just fragments, tiny little pieces of an entire puzzle. I could only see a day or a week, at most. But the thing is that I only saw us young, meeting, starting the bond, falling in love. Not once did my dreams show us a little older, getting married, having kids, or even if things didn’t work between us. I never dreamed of those things.

At first, my guess was that the dreams were trying to show me a way to get to you, find you in a world that’s filled with billions of people. That wasn’t the case.

One night I dreamed of you dying. I woke up in despair. Instead of the sweet dreams, filled with warm touches and whispered words, I faced images of you surrounded by blood, a lifeless body in my arms.

For a while I wanted to make myself believe that it was just a nightmare, that it would eventually go away but I knew it wasn’t that simple, nothing ever is.

I kept seeing the same thing for days and every day it got worse and worse. It got to the point where I stopped sleeping at all. Every time I closed my eyes I could see your body on the ground, eyes wide open. I knew that it wasn’t true, but I felt like you were looking at me, like you blamed me for your death.

I searched it up. If the same thing happened to other Memorous I wanted to know how to make it stop, if I could even do something like that. From task number one I had problems.

For one, Memorous doesn’t like to be clear about it, we are heavily judged by it because no one understands what it is like to be one. Most people just think that we are making a fuss over nothing, that knowing what your soulmate looks like, what that person likes and dislikes makes it much easier to find the person you are supposed to bond with. What they don’t know is that, like everyone else in the world, people’s taste, personalities and all else changes. In one of your lives, you were a dancer, the stage was your home, and being watched by people was something you thrived off of but in the next one you were a shy girl who couldn’t bear the thought of people looking at her (this actually happened, just so you know).

Second, there aren’t many Memorous in the world. We are considered an anomaly, there are very few of us. I believe that we will only be able to understand why we are born this way when a scientist is born as a Memorous.

But not everything is a lost hope! God bless the people who aren’t scared to share their stories because they want to help other people. I found this post, on a very weird and hard to find website, saying that there is a way to break this ‘curse’. That’s the good news. The bad news is that it’s not up to us to end the cycle. Well, technically it is but it’s not a choice that we can make. It’s confusing, I know.

Apparently, the only way for us to stay together for a long time is if both of us are born Memorous, meaning that you and I must know our past lives. The one who wrote the post was a young boy, claiming that it was his grandparents’ story and that both of them were still alive and fine.

It’s not much but at least it’s something. I can’t help but wonder if this time around you already know who I am.

I saw you today, or at the very least I thought that I did. I looked at my right and you were right there! Your eyes went anywhere but me, it was like you were purposely trying to avoid me. I went after you, called after you (even though I don’t know what you’re called in this life). It seemed that you were running away from me, though I’m sure that wasn’t the case. How could you run from someone you don’t know?

On days like this, I think I’m starting to lose my mind. The dreams are starting to feel more real than ever, and I don’t know what to do. Is it because we are getting closer to each other? Maybe we are in the same city? I hope so.

I’ve hoping for something, just a tiny signal, for the longest time. Was today it? I think about seeing you, how the dreams are now just a repeat of all the first meetings before, how every day when I wake up I have a feeling inside my heart telling me that we are getting closer to each other.

Are we? Does this mean that we are getting closer?

Maybe this is the universe’s way of letting us know. Because our lives, all of them, have been so messed up that this is fate’s way of apologizing for all the crap that it put us through.

I’m going to find you soon. Hopefully, wherever you are you’re also looking for me and that will probably make our lives that much easier.

You closed the journal and put it aside. You managed to hold yourself back while reading, you didn’t want the tears in the back of your eyes to fall on the pages, the precious pages that told your story through Seokmin’s eyes.

It had been hard to come to terms with the idea, the fact, that he was your soulmate but over the years you became more and more used to it. Your lives were too different, your backgrounds complete opposites, and yet - somehow - you were it for each other.

The first time you saw him on TV, you clearly remembered how you felt. It was as if someone had just punched you in the chest. On the other side of the tiny screen was the boy - now the man - you had been dreaming about for years of your life. You never thought that you would find him, especially so soon but then again if you thought about all your dreams, both of you seemed young - maybe even younger than your 25 years.

You stayed away from the TV for about a month after that, but you knew that it wouldn’t last much longer than that. The entire time Seokmin was in the back of your mind, always making sure that you wouldn’t forget him. That was simply something that would never happen, you forgetting about him - even if that was one of the many things that you wanted to do. Eventually, you found yourself turning the TV on again, watching every single program, every video, and buying any magazine that featured him.

Thinking back at it, you felt sort of stupid for doing those things and not just trying to look for him. You were right, your soulmate was Seokmin but your own insecurities were holding you back. Out of everything you had, there was one problem you considered to be major: you had nothing to offer him.

You were the kid no one wanted, the kid that had been tossed into an orphanage at the age of eight, and no one had gone back to take claim. Like a monkey on a tree, you moved from house to house without a chance of staying, even the prospect of making friends didn’t exist.

Growing up you always dreamed of meeting your soulmate, imagined the way you would finally meet the other person. In your mind you were always the hotshot, someone who could make anything happen with a simple word. As you got older you wanted to just live a decent life but all you had was a shitty rented apartment in a sketchy area of the city, a shower that didn’t run with hot water, and were living paycheck by paycheck.

That wasn’t the life you wanted, it was a life that you were almost embarrassed over. How could you ever share a life with someone when you could hardly sustain yourself? That wasn’t possible.

But then it happened. You got dragged by your friend to go to the TV station and watched as Seokmin recorded a program. Jun said that he wouldn’t notice you, that you would sit far in the back, and you could put your bangs down and cover your eyes so there wouldn’t be a single chance of the bond happening.

It was a lie, you knew that. Jun lied straight to your face, and you let yourself fall for it. You couldn’t say no to him, much less to his kids. Hana was so excited about it. Watching Seokmin on TV was her favorite thing in the world, more than dancing or watching cartoons. He’s pretty and funny, my soulmate has to be just like him, she said. It was funny and endearing to watch. Sometimes you just wanted to meet Seokmin because of her, because she was so in love with him. The day you decided to take a step forward was also the day you took eleven steps back.

“Are excited?” Jun bumped his shoulder into yours and smiled.

He could be the kind of person your silly heart would fall for if there weren’t any soulmates. Jun was essentially a good person, with a heart made of gold and filled with so much love that his kids would never go a day in life thinking that he didn’t love them.

“No" yet another lie.

You were excited, a little too excited. Or maybe your excitement was actually just fear. Fear that the bond might happen, fear that Seokmin would be disappointed in who you were, fear that maybe your dreams would come true.

“You said that Seokmin is pretty” Hana called out.

A moment of weakness that you regretted.

“Handsome, honey. Boys are handsome”

She repeated the word a few times as if trying to memorize but everyone knew that she would just keep calling boys pretty.

“Why are you carrying her around like she’s three?”

Hana sighed and hugged Jun’s neck, her head on his shoulder.

“I’m daddy’s little girl”

Jun looked like he was about to cry and Hanbin just groaned, his sister’s act wasn’t something that he was too fond of. You could only smile at them. They were almost too cute for you to handle.

You were one of the first people to get in so there were still a lot of empty spots to choose from. The second you and Jun started to move towards the back Hanbin and Hana protested. Of course, they didn’t want to sit in the back. Besides being kids, and too short to be able to see anything, both liked Seokmin so being too far away was not something that they wanted. In the end, you caved. You couldn’t say no to two kids who were doing the puppy eyes at the same time.

As minutes went by and the studio got filled with people you started to get nervous. You ran your sweaty hands on your jeans trying to get them dry, but it was useless. Every person who walked inside made your heart skip a beat because you thought that it could be him. It never was. The scared part of your brain told you that it was a good thing, that maybe he wouldn’t show up at all, but the other part, the one that wanted to see him in person just once, told you to just wait a little longer because he was going to show.

You waited, for over an hour and there was no sign of him. You knew that in this kind of event it could take them a while to get everything sorted but you were told that it shouldn’t take long once you all went inside.

“Stop,” Jun said, his hand on your arm “Don’t overthink it"

He was smiling at you kindly. It was the kind of smile that was supposed to calm you down and reassure you and yet all it did was make you even more nervous.

“What if we bond?”

“Then you’ll deal with it later”

What if I don’t know how to deal with it?

When people started to scream you looked up and saw the host walking in. He talked for a couple of minutes, made a few jokes trying to be funny and then he introduced Lee Seokmin, a TV personality. The crowd went crazy, there was a girl behind you screaming so loud that you thought you’d go deft.

Seokmin walked in, his characteristic smile in place, as he waved at the audience.

Seeing him in person made the world slow down, even your own heart. Instead of going crazy, your heart nearly stopped, as the sight of Seokmin put you at ease. Your hands were no longer shaking, you didn’t feel like trying to hide yourself anymore. In fact, seeing him made your soul scream at you it’s him, what are you waiting for? Your soul was begging you to go to him. After all, it knew him, because despite being apart for years it recognized him immediately.

And then Seokmin looked at you.

His eyes were on yours as he stood frozen there. You could feel him everywhere. He was shocked, surprised, caught off guard, hopeful, and just so happy. His happiness was contagious because inside you felt happy too. You wanted to stand up and hug him, stay as close as possible to him. The fear you felt for years was momentarily forgotten in the back of your mind.

Your legs moved before you could even realize what you were doing. You stood up and walked to him, stopping only a couple of steps away from him. You felt his heartbeat like it was just under your skin. Being so close to him made your body tingle in the best way possible. Your entire being was begging you to just take another step, just one closer to him, just so you could touch him and feel him all around you.

When Seokmin moved forward, his hand raised ready to touch you - just like you wanted to do - you took a step back. Suddenly the realization of what could happen came crashing down around you. Your dreams, and images of Seokmin lying lifeless on the floor that had been engraved in your mind were unexpectedly in your eyes. You could see it coming, your downfall, and the things you dreaded the most, happening.

“I…”

Seokmin wanted to say something, anything, but he didn’t know what he was supposed to. What words could he possibly profess that would make the fear running through your body go away?

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this"

Turning around and walking away from him might have been the hardest thing you ever did.

You tried your best to keep living normally but it was close to impossible. Every second that went by you were reminded of Seokmin, of the broken look on his face when you walked away, of the way he felt like he had somehow done something wrong. And he felt unloved when it was supposed to be just the other way around. Even before the bond, before you had the chance to look at him in the eyes, you already had feelings for him. Perhaps it was because you knew that you were supposed to love him, you knew that once you met him your feelings would be unstoppable, or it was just because he was charming.

And just how charming he was.

You didn’t know one single person who disliked him, someone who would flat-out say that there was nothing good to like about him. Everyone loved Seokmin, his easy smile and friendly eyes pulled everyone in.

“Until when are you going to keep avoiding him?”

Jun had become the personification of what was happening inside of you. You wanted to meet Seokmin, desperately. You wanted to find out where he was and just go to him, introduce yourself, and just talk to him. Everything seemed so simple inside your mind, and in Jun’s as well, but it was so far from it.

“You’re just avoiding it, you know that”

“So, what if I am? I’m sorry if I don’t want to see my soulmate die!”

You weren’t angry at your friend or even Seokmin, as he would feel sometimes. You were just angry at everyone else, at the world, at destiny, at anyone in the world who decided that it was a good idea to make you see your soulmate die every night.

“I know that, but wouldn’t it be better if you could spend some time with him? Let’s say that you’ll have six months together, that’s it. No more and no less. Don’t you want to be with him for as long as you possibly can instead of keep hiding in here?” Jun moved his hand showing the lounge of his dance school “Think of all your past lives, about how happy you were because you were with Seokmin. In this life too, shouldn’t you be able to feel that kind of happiness?”

Jun was the only person who knew that you were Memorous and he was also the only person who would say that there was nothing wrong with it. You aren’t cursed. If you ask me, you are one of the lucky ones. I would anything to have more memories with Seol. He was also the kind of friend who wasn’t scared to say that you were messing up your own life, that you were doing something wrong. Most days he would act like the dad you never had. You were grateful for him, for having someone so eager to make sure that you were happy.

“Here’s a wild scenario” Jun smiled at Hana, who was running to him, as he stood up “Seokmin doesn’t die"

His words left you speechless as you watched him move away from you.

When you got home that day Seokmin’s journals were waiting at your doorstep.

Reading Seokmin’s words was much like reading your own. Since you started to have dreams, you thought that you were the only one who felt like that, like the only one who didn’t have anyone else to run to. Yes, both of your lives were very different, the place both of you came from was also different. But looking at it or wasn’t all that different.

His words and the way he described his feelings for you were the things that made you take a deep breath and go meet him.

I know that you are scared, I can feel it but please reconsider it. I’ve been waiting for a moment like this for a very long time and I would like to believe that you have too. I’ll be in the city for a few more days so let’s meet. If you don’t come to me, I will go to you. We can’t run away from this.

Seokmin.

Somehow you found yourself getting out of your tiny apartment and going towards Seokmin. You knew just how much he could feel your nervousness and yet he tried to stay calm so you could feel at ease too. The entire time, since you left the TV station, you could feel him in your mind and it was like he was talking to you, trying to convince you to meet or just to be comfortable with the idea of him.

At times you could swear that he was talking to you, his voice clear in your mind. It’s okay, you don’t have to worry. It was like Seokmin himself could read your thoughts. Of course, there were moments when he would feel that spark of fear, and anxiety but most of the time he was in complete control of his emotions. He was doing that for you, there was no mistake, so you felt childish for being all over the place and guilty for bombarding him with emotions that you couldn’t fully grasp.

That was one of the many reasons why you decided to go to him. His words had been the main reason, but you also wanted to put your heart in peace. From the second you walked away from him your heart had been heavy. It was the kind of emotion that was impossible to verbalize, the only word that could possibly come to mind was lost. Your heart was lost. You walked around feeling like there was a huge part of you missing, your eyes looked for something, someone, that was never there.

It was like that until you got his journals. Although you didn’t feel whole you could feel that a little piece of you was back. Perhaps it truly wasn’t a part of you, instead what could be the missing was a piece of you never found before.

The missing piece had always been Seokmin.

You stopped in front of his door, your hand closed into a fist just an inch away.

The truth was that everything you felt, every tiny thing, could be summed into just one word: fear. You were scared.

For years you saw Seokmin die in your dreams, he died in a new way every night. You saw, more times than you could count, the life left his eyes as he took his last breath. Sometimes you would just hear about it from someone, just words thrown into a conversation – words that always managed to break your heart. It never mattered how you found out, it always happened suddenly and unexpectedly.

Whenever you and he were settling into a life together, when you allowed yourself to love each other freely, it happened. You always thought that your love for him, as his for you, worked like a time bomb. And the moment the bond was made was when your time started to run out.

The only thing you thought about was how if you never made the bond then Seokmin would be able to live a long and happy life. It was okay if once, just once, you didn’t find your soulmate. As long as Seokmin got to live, you were fine with whatever life threw at you. Many people went through life without ever finding their soulmates but that didn’t mean that they weren’t happy. It just meant that they had to find other ways to be happy.

“Just, please, knock on the door”

You turned around, startled by the sudden presence behind you, a voice that you had memorized a long time before meeting the person to whom it belonged. Seokmin was there, looking at you like he had just walked out of some kind of sappy movie with his hair a mess and a hoodie that was at least three sizes bigger than him.

“How long have you been there?”

He smiled at you then making you feel like your insides were melting. Seeing him was like making the bond all over again. Your hands were sweating, your heartbeat out of control, slow, fast, and slow. The air around you was heavy and the tension between the two of you was almost palpable, like a thin sheet separating you and him.

“Long enough to know that you’ve been hesitating, for at least, five minutes”

How was it possible for him to be so calm when you felt like your heart was about to combust? Having him so close to you made your entire body shake. You almost wanted to take a step back before you fell to your knees. It was like your legs were barely there to support you.

“I want to say so many things but I’m afraid that if I do, you’ll run away again”

You shook your head at him. This time around you weren’t leaving or running. You had made it this far, there was no way you were backing down. Somehow, seeing Seokmin in front of you made you feel stronger like you could fight the entire universe just because he was right there by your side. He wasn’t doing anything, but he looked at you like you were everything that he had been waiting for and then some more.

“I came so that we could talk” you tried to smile in reassurance, for him or yourself you weren’t sure “Do you want to do this here or somewhere else…?”

“I think that it would be best if we had some privacy”

You took a step aside to let Seokmin open the door to his hotel room.

You had always been scared of people, not of what they could do to you in the spot but of what they could cause in the long run. From a young age, you learned that you were alone and that the people around you never really wanted you there. For the foster homes you went through most of your life, you were just a way to get easy money; for your first boyfriend you were just a pity bet; for your high school friends you were just the girl they let hang out with them in exchange for assignments; for your parents, you were just someone, something, that they could easily toss aside when they finally got bored.

All of those things left deep scars on you. Though you did your best to cover them, they were always there right under the surface. You always smiled at people and made sure to tell them that you were perfectly fine even though you weren’t, even though all you wanted was to curl into yourself and let yourself feel all that pain.

Jun had been the first person to get through to you, the only one who had stayed long enough for you to think that maybe he was around you because he actually liked you and not because he wanted something from you in return.

It was true that Seokmin was your soulmate, that once the bond is made someone can never really walk away from it. You knew all of those things, like a book that you were constantly reading. Knowing something is completely different than doing it. The insecurities, always in the back of your mind, screamed at you louder than any belief or hope. Your brain always told you that someone like Seokmin, someone who had everything – and anyone – he could possibly want, would never stay for someone like you, bond or no bond.

“Do you want something to drink? I can get you anything you want”

Seokmin opened the door for you and pointed at the couch in front of it. As you had expected his room wasn’t just room, it was like a goddamn apartment – hell it was bigger than half of the houses you went through as a teenager.

“I… it’s fine. I’m fine”

Seokmin knew that you weren’t fine but chose to stay quiet about it, he knew that it wasn’t a good idea to tell you just how much of you he could understand. It wasn’t only because he could feel every tiny thing coming from you but also because you were like an open book, filled with words begging to be read.

“I got your journals,” you said “I also read them”

Your words made Seokmin sigh in relief. He thought that if you saw his journals, and read his feelings, you would be able to understand how desperate he felt, how much his feelings had been all over the place – despite him trying to remain calm. His feelings mirrored yours very much, almost in every way.

“Because you shared yours with me, I think it’s only fair if I do the same with you”

He looked up at you, surprise all over his face as you handed him the small box you had been carrying.

“I’ve dreamed about you, for the past ten years, too. Every night I saw you and fell for you, every version of you”

The surprise Seokmin felt, the happiness, and the relief that ran through his body the moment he saw you at his door was almost completely gone when he heard what you were saying. He wanted to think that maybe he heard it wrong but the look in your eyes assured him that he hadn’t heard it wrong. Your words had been loud and clear, ricocheting inside his brain.

“For how long you have known about me?”

Your heart was breaking, shattering into tiny pieces when you saw and felt the change in Seokmin. He held the box with your journals like it weighed a thousand pounds, his face was contorted with something that you couldn’t decipher but his feelings were clear, like the sky on a starry night. Seokmin felt betrayed, hurt, and unwanted, all things that weren’t true.

“Since you started, around the same time, since I was sixteen as well” you whispered.

Seokmin felt his heart drop all the way down to his toes feeling sick to his stomach. He had always wanted to find you, from the day he understood what his dreams meant he looked for you – everywhere and anywhere in the world. You were the reason why he even started to work in TV, he thought that if he got a job that required him to talk to a lot of people then it would be easier to find you. But the idea, now the fact, that you had always known about him but even then, decided not to look for him, not to take a step away from him, was like a slap to his face.

“Do you know that I tried to look for you everywhere? I nearly went crazy. Every day since my dreams, the memories of us, started I searched for you. While you…” he scoffed like the world had played yet another sick joke on him “You knew who I was but you never…”

He couldn’t bring himself to say it; thinking about it – feeling it – was already bad enough. Seokmin didn’t want to voice it, if he did then everything would become that much more real, too real, more heartbreaking than anything else in his life up until that moment.

The dreams crushed his heart every morning when he woke up. Seokmin felt his heart die a little inside his chest for the life he never got to live with you, for the words he never got to hear from you, for seeing the bright light leave your eyes time and time again. But ultimately those dreams were just that: dreams, memories of a different period in time, of a different life that although felt real, it no longer was.

“I was afraid, Seokmin…”

“I know that you were! I felt it, with fiber in my body, I knew that you were scared, terrified that for some reason I wouldn’t love you. I knew all of that like it was my own fear”

The despair he had in his voice was felt in your body, every tiny cell. You hated that he was feeling like that, that your first ever encounter with him – a proper one – was only worth a fight. That was not how you wanted things to go. You thought that if you ever met him things would run smoothly but the reality of it was far from your expectations.

“Like you, I am a Memorous” you had to say it, you needed Seokmin to hear your words just once “The first time I saw you, like you are right now, was on TV but it was so fast that I couldn’t be sure. I was on the bus, passing by a TV store. The next day I stayed in front of the same store the entire day, waiting for that brief second of your face for hours. When I finally saw you I cried, right there in the middle of the sidewalk because I just felt so happy to see you, to finally find the boy that I had seen so many times before, the boy I loved so blindly, even though I have never met before.

“But the dreams… they are alive inside my mind. I don’t forget them like you do. My brain stores them like they are memories of this life, all those feelings were as real as if I lived them this time around. I thought about all the times I saw you die, and I couldn’t live through that again. I couldn’t let that happen to you, not after I saw you. I only knew you from the screen of my tv but my feelings were already so strong. I wanted the bond to happen, you can’t doubt that for a second, but I was scared. I would very much rather live knowing that you were somewhere out there, living a happy and long life than having you live a short one with me”

Your words were more than enough to make Seokmin stop. Until that moment, his mind was flying all over the place but the second you opened your mouth he couldn’t bring himself to be angry anymore. Those feelings, the fear of seeing your other half – the one you were supposed to be with – die, was one he knew very well. He often wondered what would happen when he finally met you.

The first time he saw you, he had been over the moon, he felt you and everything else. He felt the pull and your desire to get closer to him. To say that Seokmin was surprised when you ran away was an understatement. He didn’t truly understand everything that was happening inside of him, the unthinkable mix of you and him made him feel dizzy because he couldn’t set you apart.

He could finally understand the things you did but it didn’t mean that he liked them.

“I think it’s going to be a very long night”

Seokmin read your journals in front of you, and it didn’t feel embarrassing. Those journals, your words, had been written for him and for him only. While you wrote down your dreams you thought of him, of how he would read them one day and how much you wanted him to.

You spent the entire night in his hotel room. You talked for hours and hours and suddenly the subject wasn’t as heavy anymore, both of your fears momentarily forgotten, and you were simply enjoying each other’s company.

Seokmin was everything that he seemed to be, but he was also that much different. His bubbly personality was still there, fully out in the open for everyone to see, but there was also a shy side to him - one that not many people knew about but it was cute to watch. More often than he would like to admit, Seokmin would trip over his words, insecure about what he could and couldn’t say to you. The ice is still very thin, it’s making me nervous he said at some point in the night.

You had scooted closer to him or maybe he got closer to you, how it happened didn’t really matter. You found yourself sitting on the couch with your knees pulled to your chest as Seokmin quietly played with your fingers.

Just having him around you felt like a dream but the moment his skin touched yours? It was like fireworks exploded under your skin, like every single nerve in your body was suddenly awake. You could feel him everywhere, like he was not just the man in front of you, but he was also part of the air, like he could be all around you whilst staying in the exact same spot. He gave you calmness, a sense of peace and security. Things that up until that moment no one had been able to give you, not even yourself.

“I really want to kiss you” you whispered. Seokmin’s fingers stilled in yours and something sparkled in his eyes as he looked at you. The moment was suspended in the air as if it wasn’t neither here or there, as if time itself had stopped and all the attention was now on the two of you and the way you were feeling in that very second.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, you didn’t want to. It was the first time, in your entire life, that you craved someone’s touch and presence. With Seokmin you wanted that and so much more, everything that he had to give, you wanted.

Feeling like that for someone after only knowing them for a couple of hours was impossible, the kind of thing that you would never expect to happen, the kind of thing that you would laugh at because something like that couldn’t exist. But with you and Seokmin, nothing was as it seemed.

It was true that you had only known him for a little while but just in this life. When you looked at him you saw traces of the many different people that he had been in the past and because of that, it was like you fully knew him. That wasn’t the case, and you knew that, but even so, the feeling of reconnection still existed.

Seokmin inched forward, his eyes focused on your lips, as he interlocked your fingers and pulled you towards him. There was one second of hesitation, one tiny second that felt like an eternity before his lips finally pressed on yours and then it was pure magic.

Seokmin had to leave a few days later and you hated the idea of having to see him walk away. It wasn’t final, you knew that, but it hurt all the same. He had stayed in the city for you far longer than he was supposed to, his phone always blowing up with text messages from people concerned about his whereabouts when in reality he had been locked up with you inside your apartment.

On the contrary to what you previously thought, Seokmin didn’t care about your tiny apartment, about the fact that you had been to more foster homes than what you were willing to admit, or about the fact that you didn’t have a degree. I like you for you, not for the baggage that comes with you.

You sat at the airport for hours after his flight departed, the emptiness growing inside of you as the seconds ticked away.

Seokmin felt the same way. He wanted to stay or for you to just go with him, but he didn’t dare to ask. He knew that even though you didn’t think much of your life, you liked it. You loved to be a receptionist at Jun’s school, loved being surrounded by the kids, loved the city you lived in, and you were a little proud of yourself for being your own person and living your own life - even though you would never admit it. He got into the plane with a heavy heart, but he had to figure things out. He had to find a way for the two of you to be together. It was uncertain of what the future held for you. You could be together for just a year before one of you died or your entire life was still ahead of you. The not knowing drove him crazy.

Three weeks apart was all he could take before he found himself boarding a plane to the other side of the country and breaking a few contracts while he did so. You called every day, facetimed whenever there was a chance and texts were always a constant but just that wasn’t enough.

Due to the distance, the constant pull to you only grew stronger and the grasp he had of your feelings, how Seokmin could tell exactly what was going on with you, was slowly disappearing. It wasn’t that you were learning to control what he could and couldn’t see. Once the bond is made the newfound soulmates need to stay close to each other, it’s physically and mentally tiring to be away. He noticed that you sounded more exhausted on the phone, as your eyes nearly closed when you talked on Facetime.

All those things pulled him to you, yes, but Seokmin also wanted to see you desperately.

He didn’t tell you that he was coming to see you, he wanted to make it a surprise. The entire flight he felt just how happy you were, probably because you were at the dance school with the kids, but he also noticed your worry, because he hadn’t answered his phone in a few hours, as you tried to push it as far back in your mind as possible.

The long see-through glass walls of the school allowed Seokmin to see you inside. He heard your laugh before he saw you, the sound had been imprinted in his mind like the type of song that just gets stuck. And then he saw your profile looking at the little boy in front of you lovingly. When you smiled, he thought that his heart would explode inside his chest.

Seeing you, even from far away, was like going home after a long time. The feeling of calmness, the feeling of finally being able to breathe properly. Just looking at you made him lighter in a way that he couldn’t exactly put into words.

The kids were the first ones to see Seokmin. The little boy you talked to gasped, and his eyes went wide. All the other kids had the same reaction, some of them pointed at him while others just went back to what they were doing before.

You stood frozen in place and watched Seokmin walk from where he was to the door. You had to make sure that he was really there, that it wasn’t something that you were imagining. If it wasn’t for the cute selfies he sent you stored in your phone, you would be sure that meeting Seokmin and everything else that happened after had been nothing but a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time you wished for a life that could never have.

You got up and took a step away from the kids before walking as fast as you could - nearly running - towards him. He met you halfway, his arms reached for you before you collapsed into him.

You sighed in contentment and relief when you felt his skin against yours, when his warmth enveloped you. Everything else was forgotten and it no longer mattered.

“You’re really here,” you said against his neck.

His chuckle ran through your entire body and he tightened his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible to him.

“Half a country away is too much" he murmured.

You stayed in place for minutes, long enough for one of the kids to get bored and call out your name a couple of times. One of them ran inside and got Jun, because the little boy thought that Seokmin might be holding you for too long.

“This reunion is great and all but it’s weird for the kids”

At the sound of your friend’s voice, you let go of Seokmin but you didn’t go too far. Three weeks had been long enough, you would take whatever few moments with him that you could get before he had to leave again. So you stayed by Seokmin’s side, your fingers interlocked with his.

“Seokmin, this is Jun”

“I was the one who gave him your address, how else do you think he would send you his journals?”

Seokmin looked at you, with surprise in his face. He hadn’t expected you to tell someone about it, about his journals, or about anything at all. From the moment he saw you, and even from the journals you wrote, he knew that you were the kind of person who didn’t tell those around her much about her life so it was a surprise that you had talked about it with someone.

“It’s good to see that things worked out for you,” Jun said, he looked at the watch on his wrist before looking back at you again “Go on, take the rest of the day off”

You shook at head, pointing at the kids behind him - who were already making a fuss all over the place.

“I still have a few more hours to go and you need help with the kids”

Jun just rolled his eyes when he took a few steps closer to you and Seokmin, pretty much pushing out of the door.

“I’ll let you know that there was a time when I managed this place just fine without you”

For the rest of the day, you walked around town with Seokmin. He held your hand the entire time, letting it go just to put his arm around your shoulder, either way, he always had his hands on you. You didn’t mind it, in fact, you liked it a lot. The idea of always being close to him made your heart flutter in impossible ways, made you imagine what life would be like when you finally got to be with him for more than a few hours at a time, it made you wish for a future when you would be able to see him every day and talk to him and just be around him.

“I’ve been thinking,” Seokmin said when you reached your neighborhood.

“That could be dangerous”

During the time you and Seokmin talked on the phone, he told a lot about his childhood and there was one thing that was clear to you: he was an unpredictable kid. His ideas were always crazy and so unnatural for a child. When you were in foster care you thought that the other kids were crazy, but they were just reckless, Seokmin was wild.

“I should have never told you those stories,” he said with a sigh, a tiny smile on his face “I’ve got this job offer, here in the city. It’s not like what I do now but I think that it could be fun and I’ll try to make it work as much as possible. If I do take it, we’ll be closer to each other”

You were shaking your head before he was done speaking. Seokmin changing jobs, and doing something else that was not what he wanted initially was a huge no.

“You’re not moving here”

He sighed again and took your hand in his.

“I know you’re worried about my job, but I only started to do it because I thought that it was the easiest way to find you. I can do something else, anything else, if it means that I can have you”

You turned to look at him, your hand squeezing his. His words assured you, more than anything in the world. Hearing those words was the only thing you needed.

“Remember how I told you that Jun’s soulmate mom is a social worker? She told me that there is this University, not the most prestigious one but a university nonetheless, that is more likely to give out scholarships. A couple of months ago I took the test to get in and I got the results a week ago”

Seokmin nodded at you, not really understanding what you meant. Truth be told, he was a little hurt. The second he mentioned it you were already denying it, like the mere idea of having him close to was repulsive. He knew that couldn’t be the case, knew that those things never reached your heart but even so, the feeling of getting rejected was there.

“I got in. I have to move there in the next few weeks or so, to settle in and find my way around town”

“Where… where is that?”

You laughed and kissed him quickly. He looked way too cute with the confused look on his face.

“I didn’t ask for your address just to have it, Seokmin. I want to be close to you so I was looking for a place near yours but also close enough to the university”

Before you even done speaking Seokmin already had his arms around while he placed quick kisses all over your face, making you laugh.

Moving away was harder than expected. There weren’t many things that tied you to that place, but the few things that did make it heartbreaking.

Just as you predicted, telling Jun was easy. Your friend, like always, had been supportive saying that he had your back in all the choices you’ve made and the choices that you would come to make.

His kids were a completely different story. When you told Hana about it, she started to cry, tears running down her little face and sobs escaping her lips. You knew that it was going to be hard to talk to her, but you didn’t think that it was going to be like that. Hanbin was easier but you knew that he was also feeling it.

“Will you call us every day?”

“I’ll call you every Sunday morning,” you said pinching her cheeks “We all know how much your dad loves Sunday mornings”

Jun groaned but he still had a smile on his face.

“Why do you hate me?”

It broke your heart to leave all three of them, but it was something that you had to do, not only because you wanted to be close to Seokmin but because of yourself. The change was something that you needed to do in order to move your life forward.

Moving day wasn’t as terrible as you expected. Seokmin had helped you move all your stuff, boxing everything to perfection. You didn’t have much you wanted to take with you but even so, everything you owned had been labeled and wrapped.

Somehow Seokmin had managed to convince you to just move in with him. You tried to deny him at first. It didn’t make any sense; you had just started something with him and suddenly you were putting your toothbrushes together. That was way too fast. “We don’t know how much time we have together so why waste it by being apart?” You tried reasoning with him “What if I can’t stand your habits and you hate mine?” To what he just said, “I’ll love all of your nasty habits and I’ll be the perfect prince, so you’ll have nothing to complain about”.

It all ended with a heated make-out session on your couch.

Seokmin was feeling edgy. He was supposed to be home hours ago, he knew that you were worried but restraining yourself from calling him. He loved his job, he really did, and it was amazing that he got to keep it and be with you at the same time, but he hated days like those. He hated the late-night shootings when he had to be away - especially when he could feel how worried you were - and he didn’t even like to think about when he had to do something out of town.

The drive back home felt endless. He broke God knows how many speed limits, and crossed a few red lights. He didn’t know why he was feeling like that, he knew that there wasn’t anything wrong going on at home. You would have called him in case something happened, he would have felt something change.

But at times he couldn’t help but feel anxious.

It had been four years. Four years since you found each other, since you started your life together, probably the four happiest years of his. But whenever he wasn’t expecting it, whenever Seokmin started to feel comfortable again with his life and you around him, his dreams would come back to haunt him. Instead of seeing you, in the past, he saw you as you were in this life. He saw the woman he loved, more than any of his dreams could have let him know, die in front of him, in his arms. It was always like that, you had a smile on your face, a tear ran down your cheek and you said that loved him.

On nights like that, he would search for you. His arms moved directly to you and pulled you to him as quiet sobs escaped his lips. You always cried with him on nights like that. You didn’t have those sorts of dreams, but his despair and fear ran through your body as if they were your own.

That night was just like that. The whole day he had a sickening feeling in his stomach. Like the world was telling him that something was bound to happen. The one thing that had somehow calmed him was how at ease you were during most of the way.

Seokmin walked inside a house in darkness, the light in the hallway the only thing that could possibly tell him that there was someone home. You always did that for him when he had one of his late nights.

You were sleeping in the bedroom, so Seokmin tried his best not to make a sound. But he knew that all his efforts were useless when he walked out of the bathroom to find the bedside lamp on and you looking at him.

“I didn’t mean to wake you”

You sat up and smiled at him, shaking your head. It was a good thing that he had woken you up. Your sleep wasn’t peaceful, no nightmares or dreams but although you were asleep you still had that weird feeling of being awake while sleeping.

“It’s fine, I actually have to talk to you about something”

Seokmin wouldn’t like what you had to say to him, in fact, you were pretty sure that he would probably hate it.

“I talked to your sister today” the words left your lips in a quiet whisper.

Seokmin stood still, his eyes focused on you, but his mind was somewhere entirely. He finally understood why you had felt so anxious and nervous during lunchtime and why he was feeling on edge the entire day.

“We’re not doing this” he shook his head.

“Seokmin it’s been 12 years, you’re going to have to talk to them at some point”

You reached for his hand at the same that Seokmin scoffed at you.

“You haven’t talked to your parents in 22 years and I don’t push toward them”

Seokmin regretted his words the second he said them. He watched as you tried your best to control your emotions and not let him feel just how hurt you truly felt about his words. You pulled back the hand you reached to Seokmin and tucked it under the blankets.

“I did try to look for them, Seokmin. I found them. It went the same way as it did when I was eight years old. They didn’t want me”

You never told anyone about that, it wasn’t the kind of thing that you liked to talk about. To be honest you didn’t even like to think about it.

A week before you moved in with Seokmin you searched for your parents. With Jun’s help, you managed to find them, quite easily. They still lived in the city, in the same house you lived in for the first eight years of your life. All it really took to get a hold of them was to find the documents they filled when they left you in the foster house. Your meeting with them didn’t last long, less than five minutes and they didn’t even invite you in. All the conversation was done at their doorstep. “We can’t do anything for you, we’re not parent material,” they said to which you answered, “I’m no longer a kid who needs care and protection”.

For them to suddenly find their inner parent wasn’t something that you wanted or expected but you thought that they could, at least, be part of your life but even that they refused. They only showed some kind of interest when you mentioned Seokmin and just by looking at them, you could tell that their interest was more on what Seokmin brought with him than for you.

After that you never mentioned them again, never allowed Jun to talk about it again, not even thinking about them was allowed.

“Just because people bond doesn’t mean they become good people, Seokmin. It just means that there’s someone out there who won’t judge your choices”

“Babe…”

Seokmin crawled on the bed towards you, his arms going around you and tangled his legs with yours.

You stayed quiet for a while, unmoving. That was your favorite place in the world, his arms. Even if you had just some kind of argument with him, even if you were hurt by what the other person said, you never turned your back on each other.

“I’m afraid if I let them in again the same thing will happen. I can’t go through that again”

You turned in his arms, facing him.

“They were probably just afraid Seokmin, the things people say about Memorous aren’t nice. Maybe they were just afraid to lose their son. Your sister did sound really sorry on the phone” you ran your hand on his cheek “You’re thirty years old, the feelings you had at eighteen are not the same and you certainly are not the same person. Maybe we could try talking to them, and if it doesn't work, it doesn’t”

“Thank you for reminding me that I’m old”

You giggled against his chest, which made Seokmin kiss the top of your head.

“You’ll only be old when our kids kids go to college”

Something in Seokmin’s eyes changed, all the anger and laughter from just a second before suddenly disappeared. He rolled on the bed, so he was on top of you.

“Are we talking babies now?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed your way up from his collarbone to his lips.

“You’ve been lacking in that department lately, husband”

He pulled your hands away from his neck and presses it against the mattress.

“I’ll be sure to make it up to you, wife”

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bagopucks · 1 year

Text

A. Matthews - Winter Flu

✄————————————

Auston Matthews x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 4.1k

Warning(s): mention of throwing up, reader’s kid is sick, parental insecurities, little bit of angst.

The point of view for this does use you when talking about the reader, simply because this was a request that had more so to do with Auston and Hudson. So I didn’t put it in first person. Also, long as shit, so I proofread ONCE.

Also! With the summer season approaching, those of you who submitted requests with the lake house, and Hughes brothers. Requests that I haven’t gotten to yet. Look forward to those! Once I get past the wisdom teeth surgery, and the end of this senior year. It is solid with the summer content.

—————————————

“I’ll call the school and let them know you’re on your way.”

“They’ll let me pick him up?”

“Yeah. You’ll just have to give your full name and phone number.”

“Do I need an ID?”

“Probably not, Aus. It’s not that formal.”

Auston pulled gently at the dainty silver lightning bolt that hung from his earring. A Christmas gift from the lovely woman he grew so close to. You’d celebrated at home with Auston, and found a nanny to celebrate with his team when he invited you. The holiday had passed, as did New Years, but the decorations in both your and his homes were still up. Auston left his up because Hudson liked to look at them. You left yours up because you didn’t have time to take them down.

He was nervous. It had been the first time you asked him to pick Hudson up from school. But these were special circumstances. The school day was far from over, and Hudson was sick. Auston had to leave his morning skate early to be there, still dressed in a pair of compression pants and shorts, and a black t-shirt with his number on the sleeve. He stepped into the building, and stood by the window that looked into the office. He’d never looked after a sick kid before. Maybe the Marleau boys right after they got over a cold, but never in the midst of sickness.

“Hello. How can we help you today?” An older woman approached the window with a clip board, setting it down on the counter and sliding it through the window as she opened it.

“I’m here to pick up Hudson?” Auston hadn’t even considered using a last name. There was surely only one sick Hudson.

“Right. His mom called and said a friend would be in.”

Auston’s deep brown eyes immediately lifted from the clip board.

“Write your name and number here, and we’ll let you in the office while somebody finds him.”

Auston slowly scrawled his name and number out, sliding the clip board back in the woman’s direction. He would have texted you if you weren’t in the middle of a meeting. Auston stepped into the office when the woman opened the door, finding a seat in one of the plastic chairs.

A second secretary left the office, and Auston was left in an awkward silence, the woman in the room occasionally glancing up at him.

“Are you the kid’s dad?” Such a question surprised and offended him. Auston wasn’t even sure why. Possibly because of the tone in the woman’s voice.

“Kinda? I’ve been with his mom for a while.”

“I wondered.” He tensed, watching her disinterested eyes focus on something else.

Was it an insult? Did it have to do with the last name thing? Or the simple fact that he wasn’t related? He hated to think it would have been anything else. Auston’s jaw set, and for a moment he considered telling the woman off. He could recall the endless amounts of times his mother had never taken such disrespect. Even his father. But he refrained.

The second secretary entered the office soon after, with Hudson, sluggishly following behind.

“Mom?” He had called before his eyes even left the floor. His need for his mother made Auston feel even less prepared than before. He didn’t have the qualifications for this.

“Mom’s in a meeting, bud.” Auston gained Hudson’s attention, watching the boy’s eyes widen. Hudson sniffled and quickly walked over to hug Auston. He looked pale, but flushed in the cheeks. And he certainly felt warm.

“I wanna go home.” Hudson whined softly, and Auston slowly guided him back a few steps so he could stand up.

“That’s where we’re headed, little man.” He put his hand out, and Hudson quickly held onto it. “I’ll take your bag.” Auston held his other hand out, and took hold of Hudson’s book bag after the boy shimmied it off. “Thanks, guys.” Auston was swift to speak to the secretaries before he led Hudson out of the office and eventually out of the school building all together.

“How long is mom in a meeting?”

“Probably another hour or so. It’s just you and me for a bit. Your mom said you got sick?”

“Yeah.” Hudson sounded as exhausted as he looked. Once they got to his car, Auston tossed the boy’s bag in the back and helped him hop in and get buckled.

“If you need to throw up, you let me know, okay?” Hudson merely nodded, leaning back into the seat to get comfortable. If he wasn’t sick, his first complaint would have been about the lack of a car seat. But everything had happened so swiftly that morning, that there wasn’t really time for meeting up and taking the one out of your car. Perhaps it was just time to get one of his own.

Auston carefully shut the car door and walked around to the front, sliding in and turning the key in the ignition.

“Do you wanna listen to anything?”

“Uncle Mitchy’s music.” Hudson spoke softly. Auston hated to admit it, but he was always a little jealous of Mitch for getting the title of ‘uncle.’ Auston was patient. He knew Hudson was the only person who could grant him the title of, ‘father,’ but he hoped his face would light up the same way Mitch’s had. He hoped he’d feel that same overwhelming excitement.

Auston connected his phone to the car and opened Spotify to find Mitch’s profile and public playlists. One labeled ‘kiddos’ that he used around Patty’s kids, and Hudson. A plethora of music that ranged from Baby Shark to Kids Bop and Disney. Auston hated Baby Shark, but not near as much as Hudson did. So when that song came on, he skipped it swiftly.

“Can I lay down when we get home?”

Auston glanced in the rear view mirror as he backed out of his parking space.

“For sure, bud. Whatever you want.”

“Do you have Gatorade?”

Oh boy.

“No, sorry. We can check your mom’s fridge though.”

“I really want Gatorade.” Auston could hear the quiver in Hudson’s voice as he pulled out onto the road. The drive back to your place was short, and he was thankful for that. But he was more so worried about the protocol for not having something the kid wanted. Did you go out and get it? Was he supposed to call you? What if Hudson didn’t want an alternative?

When he pulled into the driveway, Auston was quick to park the car and hop out, opening Hudson’s back door to see the kid hunched over and asleep.

“Hudsy,” Auston carefully nudged him. Hudson winced, but his eyes fluttered open. He looked in distress for a moment before his face twisted into discomfort. Auston unbuckled the seatbelt and held his arms out. Hudson quickly moved to the edge of the seat and allowed Auston to pick him up. Once they got inside, Auston set Hudson down. He kicked his shoes off and considered his next options. Hudson quickly walked over to the couch to sit down, curling in on himself.

“You okay, bud?” Hudson merely nodded, and despite Auston’s uncertainty, he decided to go with it. Just for a moment.

Auston slipped down the hall into the boy’s room. He grabbed a blanket off the bed and a little dinosaur stuffed animal. As well as finding a pair of shorts and a comfy shirt Hudson could change into. Comfort always came first when sick. Auston walked back out into the living room, tossing the items onto the love seat before slipping off into the kitchen.

He barely had any more time to think before Auston heard a familiar shuffling in the living room. And heavy footsteps pattering down the hall. He was swift to follow.

“Hudson?” Auston had just barely made it into the bathroom, when the boy started to throw up. His initial reaction was to groan and look away, but Auston had to remind himself he was the adult in this situation.

“It’s okay. Just- you just gotta.. let it out.” His disgust shifted into immediate concern when he heard the quiet cries from the boy. Auston’s brow furrowed, slowly stepping into the bathroom. He grabbed a paper towel when Hudson finally sat on the floor, his body trembling from the exertion, but finally able to relax for a moment. Auston swiftly sat on the floor next to him, taking up most if not all of the space in the tiny bathroom.

“Here,” he held out the paper towel, and Hudson slowly took it, wiping his face and tossing the towel in the trash beside the toilet. Hudson leaned his head against the side of the toilet bowl, gross any other day, but Auston was a kid once too. He knew how easy it was to forget about everything else in the midst of sickness. A cold surface was a cold surface, and it was easing on a raging temperature.

“I want mom,” Hudson’s quiet voice quivered and squeaked, tears falling down his cheeks at a rapid pace. Auston’s chest tightened. He wasn’t cut out for this.

“I’m sorry.” It was a scary feeling, wanting to help somebody and not feeling equipped to do so. Especially when it was the kid you’d grown so close to.

“Please call my mom.” Auston hated hearing those words every time they were spoken, because there was nothing he could do.

“I can’t, Hudsy. She’s busy. I promise she’ll be home soon.” Auston carefully reached out to rest a hand on the boy’s back. Hudson shrugged him off and looked away.

“Hudson.” Auston spoke gently, earning the boy’s gaze. “Are you okay?” It was a stupid question, but he could tell he struck a nerve when Hudson began to cry harder. The little boy inched across the floor to hug Auston, sobbing into his shoulder. It was the first time he’d been sick without his mother. The first time she hadn’t had to leave work to pick him up. Hudson didn’t know how to feel.

“Can you tell me what your mom does when you get sick?”

Auston may not have been the most experienced with kids, but he was still smart.

Hudson wiped the tears from his cheeks, the quiet sporadic breaths interrupting his attempts to speak.

“Take your time.” Auston encouraged gently, rubbing the boy’s back. They sat quietly for a few minutes before Hudson managed to calm down. Exhaustion filled his red eyes, slowly pulling his head out of Auston’s shoulder.

“She lets me lay on the couch.. and I have stuff to drink. And she puts on tv.” He sniffled.

“What do you like to watch?” Auston asked as he brought a hand up to wipe the tears from Hudson’s cheeks.

“Spider-Man.”

“What? No way!” Auston feigned excitement. “Me too.” Maybe not the cartoon Spider-Man, but he grew up with the old movies.

“Really?” Hudson winced, one of his hands holding his stomach. Auston took notice of the action, continuing to rub the kid’s back.

“Yup. I have some stuff for you to change into, that’s a little more comfortable. And I got you a blanket and a stuffed animal. How’s that sound?”

“Good.” Hudson swallowed and nodded.

“I’ll go get your clothes, and you can change in here.” Auston stood up, quick to flush the toilet before he slipped out of the bathroom. He walked back down the hall to the living room, grabbing the change of clothes and turning to go back in the direction he came. He smiled softly at the sight of Hudson standing in the hall, waiting for him.

“Can you stay out here while I change?” Hudson slowly took the clothes from Auston’s hands. The hockey player nodded.

“I’ll be right outside the door.” Hudson slipped back into the bathroom at the promise. He pushed it halfway shut, and Auston leaned back against the wall opposite of the bathroom, waiting patiently. When Hudson came back out, he rubbed at his eyes and looked toward Auston expectantly.

“Where’s your other clothes?” Auston questioned.

“On the floor.” Hudson’s response earned a quiet chuckle from the man. He’d pick up the clothes later.

Auston led Hudson back down the hall, grabbing the blanket and the stuffed animal from the love seat.

“Go ahead and get comfy on the couch.” He watched Hudson climb up and lay down. Auston quickly draped the blanket over him, tucking the bottom under the boy’s feet and dropping the dinosaur stuffed animal on his chest. It earned a quiet and weak giggle from Hudson.

“We need one more thing.” Auston reached for the throw pillow at the opposite end of the couch. “Pick your head up.” Hudson did as told, sighing quietly after Auston slipped the pillow behind his head.

“Alright. I’m gonna go grab you something to drink.”

“You’ll be back?” Hudson asked quietly.

“I promise.” Auston slipped into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and rummaged through it before he found Sprite. Not Gatorade, but still good for sickness. He found a plastic cup to pour it in, with a few ice cubes. He popped a lid on the cup and found a straw, slipping it through the hole. Auston walked back into the living room, placing the cup down on the coffee table.

“Thanks, Aus.” Hudson whispered. Auston hated how miserable he sounded.

“No problem, dude.” He reached for the tv remote and turned the tv on. Auston flipped through various channels before he found Disney. “Spider-Man comes on after Frozen.”

Hudson whined out a complaint.

“I know, but I don’t think there’s much left of this movie.” Auston set the remote down.

“Can you sit?” Hudson whispered.

“On the couch?”

“No.. right here.” Hudson pointed to the floor by his head. “Please.” Auston made his way over and sat on the floor. He leaned back against the couch, his head resting on the front of the arm. Hudson let out a sigh before his hand rested on Auston’s shoulder.

“Mommy usually cleans.” He mumbled. “So nobody else gets sick.” Auston raised a brow.

“Do you want me to clean?” He turned his head to peek at Hudson.

“No. Just sit with me.” Auston nodded and slipped his phone from his pocket. He hadn’t heard from you. He set the device aside and reached a hand up to rest on the one Hudson placed on his shoulder.

“You’re gonna be alright, I promise. You just need a little time.”

“Auston?”

“What’s up?” Silence followed as Auston’s eyes settled on the tv, brow risen in expectancy. Waiting for Hudson to talk, but he never did. “Hudson?” Auston turned his head to look at the kid, who avoided eye contact. “What’s goin on, Buddy?”

“Don’t be mean, okay?” To say Auston was surprised was an understatement.

“I’d never. You know that.” He squeezed Hudson’s hand.

“Can I sit with you?”

“Yeah, come on.” Auston swiftly tugged the blanket off Hudson. He couldn’t imagine ever saying no or being mean about such a question. The boy needed comfort, and he was certain he could provide.

Hudson slowly slid off the couch, holding onto his dinosaur. He sat on the floor next to Auston and immediately leaned into his side while Auston wrapped the blanket around his legs.

“Better?” Auston whispered after Hudson got comfortable. The boy nodded. Auston draped an arm over his shoulders.

“Can I have my drink?”

“It’s not Gatorade, but it’s sprite.”

“That’s okay.” Hudson held his hands out as Auston grabbed the cup and handed it over. The boy took a few sips before he set the cup on the coffee table within reach. Auston felt Hudson heave out a breath, the kid’s full weight resting on his side. He peeked down at Hudson a few times to see his face focused on the tv. He may have gotten sick of Frozen from watching it all the time, but the boy still loved watching Elsa sing. He said she sounded like his mom. Auston didn’t quite believe it until he heard you sing Hudson to sleep one night.

Auston smirked the moment he heard Hudson’s soft whispers, quiet mumbled words following the tune on the tv. He moved his arm to rest on the couch cushion behind them, carefully smoothing down Hudson’s hair. He didn’t know what else to do other than let him rest. Soon, Hudson’s whispered words ceased, and he fell asleep.

Auston didn’t move. He didn’t want to. He was comfortable and happy where he was. It was an odd thing to be happy about, but he wanted to have these moments. He wanted to feel like Hudson was his kid. You only called because it was an emergency, but to know he was trusted with something like this, it made him happy. To take that stress off your shoulders, and to know a kid trusted him as much as he trusted his mother.

Auston lost track of the time as he sat there. His body started to ache, but he kept himself distracted with texting and watching whatever he could find in the tv. He was hopeful that Hudson had gotten whatever out of his system, seeing as he hadn’t woken up with any nausea. And you did say he didn’t stay sick long when he was throwing up, but Auston tried not to get too ahead of himself.

He felt far less worried when he heard the sound of a car door in the front drive. Auston sat up, placing his phone aside in hopes of greeting you from the floor. You opened the door slowly, stepping inside and wincing when your purse clinked against the door. Your eyes met Auston’s before trailing toward Hudson. It was relieving to see Auston had seemingly handled the situation well.

“He’s out?” You asked softly.

“Definitely.”

“If you give me like.. five minutes? I’ll change and put my stuff away, and you can go.”

Auston’s brow furrowed.

“I can stay.”

“Are you sure?” You pushed the door shut, slipping your flats off. Over time, you’d gotten much less argumentative over Auston’s consistent offers to be present.

“Yeah. He said you usually clean. If you want, you can come sit with him and I’ll clean.” You smiled and shook your head.

“He looks too comfy. I’ll clean real quick.” He didn’t touch much this morning, so it’ll be fast.” Auston nodded and flashed you a quick smile.

“Did he throw up at all when you brought him home?”

“Just once.”

“Alright.” Your eyes lingered on Hudson. “We’ll see how he feels when he’s up, and maybe I’ll make some soup.”

You couldn’t have been more grateful for the assistance. Able to clean without having to worry about Hudson waking up alone or getting sick without anybody around.

Another hour passed before you were carefully shaking Hudson awake, a sad sigh falling from your lips at the sight of his exhaustion.

“Momma?”

“I’m here.” You whispered, running a hand through his hair. Auston smiled at the simple interaction.

“How are you feeling, honey?”

“Okay.”

“Your stomach?”

“Okay.” Hudson shrugged.

“You wanna try to eat? And we can watch a movie?”

“Yeah.”

You and Auston shared looks before you stood to slip into the kitchen.

“Auston?”

“Still here.” Hudson reached out to grip the sleeve of Auston’s shirt, yawning and leaning back into his side.

“Why don’t you get up on the couch?”

“Pick me up?” Hudson peeked up at Auston, mustering up a pouty face.

“Fine.” Auston smirked, slowly standing up. He leaned forward and scooped Hudson up, setting him down on the couch. Hudson curled up beneath his blanket, setting his dinosaur aside.

“Good?”

“Yeah.”

“You mind if I go see your mom real quick?”

Hudson huffed and rolled his eyes. He had his mother’s sass even when he wasn’t feeling the best.

“I’ll allow it.”

Auston feigned shock before laughing quietly. His amusement brought a prideful smile to Hudson’s lips. He still looked exhausted and small, but he was feeling good enough for a bit of humor.

“Not too long though.” Hudson pointed a finger at him.

“Yes, sir.” Auston teased before he left the living room. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen for a moment before he made his way over to the stove where you stood.

“Goin’ good in here?” You jolted, almost hitting Auston before you turned to him.

“Jesus, Aus!” He shushed you immediately, laughing quietly.

“Sorry, sorry.” You smiled. “Shouldn’t you be watching a kid?”

“He told me I could come see you.”

“Oh he told you.” You taunted softly.

“He’s pretty gracious, actually.”

The both of you laughed softly, and you watched as Auston folded his arms across his chest, leaning his hip against the counter.

“What are you making?”

“Chicken soup.”

“Smells good.”

“It’s canned.” You shrugged, “nothing homemade.”

“My mom used to add paprika and garlic powder when I was sick. She said it helped.”

“I have a feeling Hudson won’t like paprika.” You laughed. Auston shrugged and reached for your arm.

“It did help though.” Auston informed you as he ran his hand up your arm, carefully stepping behind you to rub your shoulder.

“That feels nice.”

“We should go out soon.”

“I think for now we should just worry about Hudson.”

“That’s fine. I’m just bringing it up.” Auston brought his other hand to the opposite shoulder. Despite his words, you knew his persuasive methods.

“If you can find a babysitter, we’ll discuss it.” You entertained the idea.

“What about the woman that usually does it?Danielle?”

“She’s busy these next few weeks.”

“Mitch?” Auston tried.

“Will Steph be there?”

“That’s a fair point. I’ll have to ask when we decide a day.”

“If Steph isn’t there, I don’t think I fully trust Mitch with my kid.”

“Yeah me either.” Auston pressed a kiss to your head, pulling away at the sound of his name from the other room.

“Times up, Cinderella.” You teased, waving your hand in a dismissive manner.

“You almost done?”

“Soon, Aus. Go find a movie for us to watch.”

Auston nodded and slipped out of the kitchen.

“Alright, Hudsy. What movie do you wanna watch?” Hudson patted the empty space on the couch next to himself. Auston quickly sat down. Hudson handed his dinosaur over.

“Can you hold him?”

“Sure.” Auston tucked the green Dino between his arm and his hip as he picked up the tv remote from the floor, then the second remote for the streaming services.

“You wanna pick a movie?”

“Can we watch Cars?”

“Absolutely.” Auston worked on finding the movie while you finished the soup, pouring it into three separate bowls before carrying the first two into the living room. A plastic one for Hudson, and a glass one for Auston.

“Thanks, momma.”

“Yeah, this is awesome.” Hudson always had manners, but you liked to think Auston’s example helped solidify them. Auston’s example helped with a lot of things.

“I’ll be right back.” You disappeared back into the kitchen to grab your own bowl with a few paper towels. When you came back into the living room, you set the items on the coffee table, and walked over to the lights to shut them off. In turn, you flicked the lamp by the couch on.

“You still feeling okay, Hudson?” You asked as he sipped on a spoonful of soup.

“I think so.”

“Just don’t eat too fast, okay?” You added swiftly, and he nodded. You sat down on the couch opposite of Auston, Hudson in between.

“Do you care if your dinosaur sits on top of the couch for now?” Auston asked, “just while I eat?”

Hudson seemed to contemplate the idea before nodding, and Auston set the dinosaur on the top of the couch behind his head.

“Don’t let him fall.” Hudson spoke softly, glancing up at Auston.

“I won’t.” Auston pressed play on the streaming remote.

It only took Hudson a few minutes to eat what he wanted. After that, he’d asked you to set his bowl aside, and you did. He waited for you to finish eating before curling up against your side.

“Still feeling good?” You asked as you ran a hand over his hair.

“Yeah.” He paused. “Auston?”

“Sup?”

“Come on.” Hudson waved for him to come closer. Auston smiled and quickly closed the space between himself and the duo. Hudson got comfortable between the two adults, and Auston tossed his arm over the couch, his hand just barely resting on your shoulder.

“Am I going to school tomorrow?” Hudson asked, peeking up at you.

“It’s probably a good idea to keep you home and make sure you’re okay.”

“I thought you worked tomorrow?” Auston chimed in.

“I can do my stuff from home. But a sidekick is always welcome if you have time before your game.”

“Definitely.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews blurb #auston matthews #auston matthews imagine

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drewsbuzzcut · 1 year

Text

Between All The Gasping I Finally Breathe

college baseball player!drew starkey x fem!reader

a college baseball au fic

warnings: mentions of miscarriage and pregnancy, talks of pregnancy symptoms, mourning, angst

You and Drew are hanging out with his family in Houston. They all came down to scope out your new home and to help with unpacking. You had thought things would be awkward being that you and Drew just got back together about 2 weeks ago, but everything was perfect. They were all still welcoming and loving as always. You really appreciated them.

The day had been perfect. It started in the early morning, coffee and small talk in their hotel because a lot of your furniture hadn’t arrived yet. You all wandered around the city, stopping in various shops, and now you all are seated at a lovely restaurant, laughing and smiling.

His family, albeit excited for the both of you, are still sad that their son isn’t going to be so close to them anymore. However, looking at the two of you so caught up in each other, they know you both will be just fine.

Towards the end of dinner, Drew’s older, little sister calls for everyone’s attention. Once everyone is quiet, she hands a gift bag to both her parents. Everyone else is waiting in anticipation to see what’s the surprise. Drew’s mom gasps and gets up to hug her daughter, and her father is speechless.

“What do you think it is?” You lean into Drew’s body and whisper in his ear.

He just says that he isn’t sure, and when the waiting becomes too much, he gets up to find out what it is.

“I’m pregnant!” His sister gleams! Everyone starts to get up to congratulate her and her husband, but you’re temporarily frozen. You look up and lock eyes with Drew, his expression is dejected while also trying to look happy. You’re finding it hard to keep the tears at bay, but you get up anyway and congratulate the couple.

Some people might find that announcing a new baby around someone who’s recently lost a baby, a bit insensitive, but Drew’s family had no idea about your situation. You never told them, hell, you and Drew haven’t even talked about it fully. You’ve talked about everything else, but losing the baby. Not because you didn’t want, but because you didn’t how. It was hard. It still made you awfully sad.

You’re quick to tell them that you’re happy for them, and it’s not like you didn’t mean. You were happy for them. You pull Drew’s sister in for a tight hug, but when her stomach presses to yours, you want to burst into tears.

“Y/n, hon, you’re tearing up,” she tells you.

“I know. I know. I’m just so happy for you,” it was a lie, but you knew now wasn’t the time to talk about your loss.

Drew comes from behind to hug the both of you. He moves one of his hands to rest on your stomach and it makes you pull away. You couldn’t fathom his hand there as if there was life growing in your stomach. He notices your actions, but tries not to show that it got to him.

The rest of the night goes as seamlessly as possible. You don’t add in much to the conversation, and the mixed drink you got tastes bitter in your mouth because you shouldn’t even be able to drink because you should still be pregnant. You’re having a hard time not wallowing in your sorrows.

When you and Drew leave, his truck is dead silent. He isn’t sure what to say. Five minutes into the ride your tears spill over. You didn’t bother trying to hold them back. Drew noticed, so he just grabbed your hand over the middle console. He squeezed it three times in a silent “I love you.” It makes your sobs harder, so you move his hand that was holding yours to rest over your heart. You needed it to soothe you.

Upon arriving at your and Drew’s apartment, you go through your night routine and quickly lay down. You still haven’t said a word, same with Drew.

It’s 11:11 p.m. and you’re both in bed, laying on your backs, trying to figure out what to say. Drew scoots his body closer to yours, wrapping one arm from underneath you and turning to his side to face you.

“What was it like when you found out you were pregnant?” Drew breaks the long lasting silence. He was finally ready to know about your pregnancy. Of course, if you had wanted to talk about it earlier, he would listen, but he wasn’t really ready until now.

“I was really scared, but I was also really happy,” you say.

“I wish I was there with you,” he says back.

“I wanted to tell you. I tried so hard to get myself to call you, but I just didn’t want to force our relationship to heal when we were still at odds with each other,” you explain.

He just nods his head and scoots even closer to you. His free hand holds one of yours tightly, trying to comfort you.

“Did you feel different? Did you have morning sickness? Did they kick? Did you find out what gender they were?” Drew unloads all the questions swimming around in his head.

“Yeah, my body felt different. It was weird because I knew I wasn’t the only one that needed to be taken care of. I didn’t have morning sickness which I was really grateful for,” you tell him before spacing out, realizing that you never got to feel kicks or movement.

“What?” Drew grows concerned. He released his hand from your hold and places it on your cheek, rubbing your cheekbone.

“I never got to feel them move. No kicks. No anything. They were always still.”

The tears start welling up in your eyes, your breathing becomes heavier, and now you don’t know if your baby even existed. Drew moved to rest his head in the crook of your neck, just needing to be connected to you in every way.

“I didn’t know their gender either. It was still too early. I was only about 4 months. I wish I did, though. Maybe I could’ve given them a name. Maybe this would’ve been easier, I don’t know. I just wish that I could know what they look like and what they would be like. I bet they would’ve had your beautiful eyes and beautiful smile. They would’ve been just as smart and caring as you are,” you think out loud.

You feel droplets hit your skin, causing you to rearrange yourself so that you’re face to face with Drew. When you see him crying, your tears finally release themselves. It doesn’t take long before your sobs wrack through your body. You grip his body tight, not wanting him to ever leave you.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you, Drew.”

You wipe away his tears, but the action causes more to spill.

“You’re the strongest person I know,” he assures you.

“Drew, I want a baby,” you admit.

“I do, too. I want you to have my babies.”

“I don’t know if I can go through another pregnancy right now,” you say hesitantly, not wanting him to get upset.

“You don’t have to, babe. Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready,” he affirms.

“I think I want a tattoo in memory of them. Would you go with me and hold my hand?”

“I’d go anywhere with you,” he says before kissing you.

You move around so that your back is pressed against his chest. He has one arm thrown around your chest, and you move one of his hands to rest on your belly. You needed that warmth there. You needed something to patch up that hole. You needed his love. He’d never deny you of it. So as you both lay on your mattress in your empty apartment, staring out through the window and looking at all of downtown, you finally feel like you can breathe. You and Drew were going to get through this.

a/n: A little idea I had! It’s sad, but I have some happy ideas, too. Hope you all enjoy!

#drew starkey #drew starkey fic #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey smut #drew starkey angst #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey fanfiction #obx cast #obx3

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mik0rin · 3 months

Text

are we still friends? status: pending…

kuroo tetsuro x black fem reader genre: college au, angst w/ happy ending, childhood best friends to strangers to best friends to lovers, smut (eventual) warnings: cussing, really bad case of pride word count: 2,453

m.list next -> a/n: if you listen to beach song by leonie biney it fits so well taglist open sign up -> here

A familiar ringtone pierces through the silence of your bedroom and you roll over with a groan, your hand fumbles across your nightstand as you look for the device. Once you find it, you answer it without checking and sit up.

Sleep fogs your brain and coats your voice, “Hello?”

“Hey.”

The person on the other end resonates with a part of your heart that hasn’t been active for a while. And as the sleep starts to fade away, your brain finally connects the ringtone and the voice.

“Tetsuro?” You can hear his breath hitch and faint noise coming from his TV, but you’re still confused. It’s 2 a.m. and it’s been two years since you last had a full conversation with him.

“Hey,” He repeats.

You don’t respond and he doesn’t say anything else. The silence is awkward with a twinge of former comfortability.

It never used to be like this. The silence was never uncomfortable and your phone calls were full of energy that comes from friendships with the strongest bonds. But now it seems like everything has fizzled out and you’re only left with fading memories.

What happened to the two of you?

The easiest and least painful answer is to blame it on college (especially since you don’t go to the same one) on a new and challenging environment. And it’s natural for friends to drift apart in this stage of life but it’s something you thought you two were immune to, and why wouldn’t you be? Your friendship was eight years in the making at the time, and you understood one another on a level that was otherworldly. But no one is immune to time; it’s the cruelest element of life because it's the only thing you always lose and never gain back.

And the more painful answer, the one the two of you didn’t want to address because it means facing your pride and those haunting thoughts in the back of your mind. During the height of the tensions between the two of you; the missed calls and canceled hangouts, both of your emotions that could easily be simplified into stress and the need to see your best friend, came out in a way that was angry and hurtful.

You barely remember what you said to each other but you remember that it was mean and nasty, nothing like the tender or playful way you usually spoke to each other. And when you hung up neither of you said anything to each other, you were waiting for the other to concede. That stretched into days, weeks, months of not talking, and then suddenly it seemed shameful to even say anything at all.

So you didn’t.

And now here you are.

You shift the phone to your other ear, pushing those memories out of your mind, and break the silence with a soft, “What’s up?”

Kuroo lets out a nervous laugh, “Happy 10th friendversary.”

You let out a quiet laugh, somewhere between disbelief and shame.

You forgot.

“I haven’t heard that in a minute.”

“Yea, it’s been a while hasn't it?”

You chuckle awkwardly, unsure of what to say next, and as you think about what your conversations used to sound like, your mind is suddenly flooded with memories of what you used to do every year on this eventful day.

“I wonder if that older lady who worked at the ice cream shop is still there?”

“She always gave me a hard time, always telling me that a man is responsible for paying for things.” Kuroo huffs, even though he always paid for you.

“Remember when she flung a cone at you because you forgot your wallet that one year?” You laugh, the memory replaying in your head.

“Bro, I was so pissed! I was picking crushed waffle crumbs out of my hair at the arcade.”

Tears well up in your eyes, your stomach clenching at your attempt at keeping your giggles silent, “And that random mom thought you had lice!”

“She didn’t think I had lice. You fake screamed ‘LICE’ and started to back away from me.”

You feign innocence, but that teasing tone is still evident in your words. “Are you sure? I don’t remember that.”

Tetsuro rolls his eyes, not caring that you can’t see him. “I wonder how you conveniently never remember anything… it’s like that huge head of yours is going to waste.”

You sputter, “Hey! Don’t start. My head is normal-sized, thank you very much. Which cannot be said about those flippers you have for feet.”

Kuroo gasps and a giggle leaves your lip at his dramatics.

He’s always like this.

“That only means my di-”

You interrupt him immediately, “Ew, Tetsu! How many times have I told you I don’t need that image in my head?”

He chuckles, and you can practically envision the smirk that paints his face right now. “Probably as many times as girls have told me that I’m the best they ever had.”

“Okay, so never.”

“You suck.”

“And-”

“Do not put that disgusting image in my head, Y/N.”

The two of you bust out into a fit of laughter, the previous awkwardness gone like it was never there in the first place. But, something lingers in the back of your mind; there has to be a reason for him to call, especially at 2 a.m. on a Wednesday night.

You let your laugh fade out before getting a bit serious, “Are you gonna tell me what's wrong? And before you say ‘nothing,’ I know you, so don’t even think of lying.”

Do you really know him anymore?

You’re running off knowledge and emotions from a time when you were inseparable. You have no clue what he’s like now, and you want to hope he’s the same Tetsu who taunts and teases you like no tomorrow but two years is a long time. And it provides a lot of room for change.

Your friendship is a prime example of that.

However, Kuroo is unwavering when it comes to certain things and he does the same shaky sigh whenever he’s emotional.

“I’m just worried.”

“Worried about what? Volleyball?”

“I quit volleyball.” He mutters and you almost fall out of your bed.

“You what?!?” You scream but quickly quiet down, praying you didn’t wake up your roommate down the hall.

He shrugs his shoulders, “It’s not a big deal, I wasn’t feeling it anymore.”

You shake your head violently, if there was one thing that boy loved besides his family and friends, it was that damn sport.

“Oh, that’s bullshit. Did you get hurt?”

There’s genuine concern in your voice and Kuroo feels pathetic, how does he tell you the real reason he quit?

His voice is so small and it borders the line of broken “No.”

“Then what is it, Tetsuu? I know you didn’t want to go pro but you always said you wanted to play until you graduate college.”

You’re met with no verbal answer, only something that sounds like a sniffle that comes right before the tears. And your heart breaks- no, it shatters like fine china and you wish you could wrap your arms around him.

“You don’t have to answer, you know?”

Your words are the perfect mix of soft, sweet, and understanding; and Kuroo missed this so much.

He misses you.

And he wants to answer, he really does.

Tetsuro wants to tell you that he began to feel this overwhelming loneliness; that regardless of the bonds he created with his teammates it wasn’t the same. All his wins didn’t feel like how they used to, and his losses only hurt so much more. Kuroo knew the reason why he felt so empty: his heart had developed a void that only one person could fill.

“If it isn’t volleyball, then what is it? A girlfriend?” You tease, trying to lighten the mood.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Not surprised.”

Kuroo lets out a very offended, “Hey!”

You ignore him even though you want to laugh oh so badly.

“Seriously, what's going on?”

“We’re still friends, right?”

The question erases every single word from your vocabulary and your heart sinks. You want to say always, you want to make some joke about how he knows too much and he’s stuck with you.

But, can you?

Even if you guys fell into familiar comfortability, it doesn’t deny there’s tension and unspoken grievances between the two of you.

“I hope so.” You whisper, tears pricking your eyes.

Tetsuro recognizes that whisper, he knows it’s how you keep your voice from wavering when tears threaten to fall. And he realizes that he isn’t the only one harboring this fear, that regardless of the almost no contact for the last two years; you still thought about him in the same way he thought about you.

“Me too.”

Kuroo feels his throat tighten.

Why is this so hard?

If you both want to be friends again, you could do just that. But, it’s not so simple and he knows it. Your friendship has always been this precious thing and now it seems like the most important parts are broken.

Silence blankets the call and you stare up at your bedroom ceiling. It hits the two of you like the first harsh wind of autumn. How can people go from talking like time doesn’t exist, to two years of not even so much as a whisper?

And as much as you want to blame it all on Tetsuro, you have to shoulder your share too. He wasn't the only one who forgot to call or left a text buried under other messages. He wasn't the only one who canceled hangouts and slowly began to pull away.

You did too.

That fight was far from one-sided, you said things you desperately want to take back. You could’ve swallowed your pride and reached out first, Kuroo could’ve too and this whole mess wouldn’t have escalated to this. But when it was creeping up on months of no talking, it seemed shameful to even try. So you held back and didn’t say anything, even when you were missing your friendship.

When you were missing him.

“This is the longest we’ve gone without speaking to each other. It feels weird.” Your voice is barely above a whisper because there’s a fear that if it were any louder, those words would shatter everything you two have left.

“Yeah…”

Neither of you know what to say, before this whole mess you barely had arguments that lasted more than a few hours. All you can do is skate around the issue, hoping one of you starts the painful conversation.

But with every passing second the silence starts to weigh heavier, pressing down on your heart in ways that you’ve never felt before, and your mind doesn’t know how to alleviate the pressure.

“I forgot what today was.” You blurt out, and the tears start to break through your attempt to keep them away. You’ve been ignoring the hurt, redirecting, and even erasing it because you weren’t ready to tell yourself that it was no longer the same. Because if you were to acknowledge that, then it becomes all too real and all too painful.

And Kuroo has been doing the same, because no matter the distance or the time, the two of you were always on the same wavelength. Even when it came to unintentionally hurting each other.

“I know.” His words are pillowy-soft and they contain no blame. And they teeter on the edge of something more.

Tetsuro exhales a shaky breath, “I’m sorry. Everything I said I wish I could take it all back, I wish I apologized sooner. I’m sorry for waiting two years to finally call you. God, I’ve been suffering without you and I kept telling myself you would call or text and it would all go back to normal.”

Your voice is thick with tears, “I was waiting too, I thought that you would call me and everything would just go back to usual. But, I think I really hurt you too and I’m really sorry, Tetsuu. I’m really really sorry for everything, especially for forgetting.”

“It’s okay.”

He’s trying to reassure you, something he’s always done. But, It’s okay to acknowledge your wrongdoings; sometimes friends hurt each other, no matter how close you are. In fact the closer you are, the more it hurts and sometimes the more it takes to mend.

“It’s not okay. Tetsuro, we fought and didn’t speak for two years. It’s okay to say I hurt you and you hurt me. I know we are so used to nothing ever going wrong between us but something went wrong and it’s okay to say that.”

There’s a millisecond of silence and that’s when you hear it: sniffles and quiet cries from a man who’s been holding everything in for way too long. That’s all he needed to hear, that it was normal to feel hurt and for it to stem from you.

Kuroo’s voice cracks towards the end of his sentence, “Never knew you could be that mean.”

He’s referencing the fight but there is a playfulness about his words, one that tells you that he’s ready to put the whole ordeal behind you.

“Yes, you did.” You let out with a soft laugh.

“I did,” He corrects, “I’ve witnessed you say worse to other people, but-”

“I’ve never been like that to you.” You interject, guilt creeping up on you.

“I was pretty rude too.”

“You definitely were.”

Silence comes along again and now instead of tears, you both bust out into laughter. The whole situation seems more dramatic by the minute but you’re happy that you got the opportunity to fix it, to get your best friend back. And Kuroo is happy he got to hear your voice again, that he can hear it anytime he wants, and that you’ll smile with him once more.

Sleep starts to hit the both of you and you yawn through your next words.

“Are you free next weekend?”

“Yeah, why?”

“We have to celebrate our friendversary, duh”

Kuroo smiles, bright and wide, and it's evident in his tone.

"Ice cream?"

"Don't forget your wallet this time, it would be a shame if you got lice again." You tease.

"Fuck you." Kuroo says, his smile never leaving.

“I’m sure you want to.” You giggle, happy you can still get on his nerves.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You’re expecting him to hit you with a line of his own.

“I missed you.” His voice is ten different types of tender and sweet, and you can’t believe you went two years without this.

“I missed you too.”

more sad stuff but with a happy ending !! and more shit to come with it 😋 hope you liked it !!! taglist is open, link is at the top !!

#haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x black reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #saturn’s masterlist #mik0rin’s masterlist #kuroo testuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo x black reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro smut #haikyuu

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writerpetals · 1 year

Text

A+ punishments | 🔞

; optional male lead smut | ☁️

w: college!au, sub!mmc, dom!reader, student/professor relationship, ass play, sub/dom themes, spanking, milking, overstimulation

You are known around the college campus as being the young, fun professor the students feel lucky to have at least once. You're easy going enough, as well as easy on the eyes, and have a contagious laugh while not taking things too seriously. You're a laid back, carefree professor that a lot of the other faculty assume you just haven't grown out of your party phase from your days in college, but you like to think it makes you more relatable to your students.

It makes them pay more attention if the students feel as if they can connect with you, and it certainly doesn’t hurt the fact that your fun personality makes at least the male students keep their gaze on you during lectures. You have been teaching at your current college for a few years, learning what works and what doesn’t in your classes, taking on new challenges to help students learn to eventually become their favorite professor.

Even if you are relaxed, not grading too harshly or giving out too much homework if the students are at least making good grades on pop quizzes, you are by no means a doormat. Some students and even other professor’s think they can get their way most of the time, assuming you’re either too careless or too kind to be too strict.

It’s true, a few students try to flirt, but you always brush them off with a smile. Even a few of your colleagues have hit on you, but you're too involved in your work to bother. You let them know you’re flattered with a giggle, and then go back to grading papers and filling in assignments.

Of course, there are always exceptions.

“Can I speak to you for a moment?”

You would be lying if you said he hasn’t caught your eye a time or two. The star of the university’s varsity soccer team usually has that effect on people, with him being athletic, talented, and handsome as ever. You’re only a bit older than him considering he’s about to graduate. He has a reputation around the campus for being a bit of a playboy, but you assume it’s all talk. Not that you would listen in on your student’s conversations to begin with, but you can’t help it when you overhear rumors and gossip.

“Yes, Professor?”

The class has emptied by the time he walks up to you. You are settled behind your desk, papers and notebooks spread messily about as you lean against your elbows. In an instant you notice his eyes dart down to your cleavage. Your breasts press against your dress shirt to lure in his gaze, and you hide your smile at the fact.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been missing answers on the last few quizzes.” With a sigh, you pull off the thin frames covering your eyes, looking up at him with the tip between your red, matte lips. You don't miss the way he gulps as he stares down at you, tugging tighter on the strap over his shoulder from his book bag. It’s clear you have just as much of an effect on him as everyone else, but part of you enjoys it when it’s him. “Is there a problem? Are you having a hard time in my class?”

It shouldn’t come so easy for you to taunt him, noticing his audible gulp this time.

“N-No, Professor.” Finally, he tears his eyes away from you to look at the floor. His obvious nerves thrill you for some reason, but you know the sight of him stuttering and mumbling shouldn’t excite you as much as it does. “Just… busy with practice, and… other personal stuff.”

“Personal?” With that question, you rise from your chair to take a few steps around the desk, leaning against the surface with your arms crossing beneath your breasts. His eyes bounce back and forth between your cleavage and the floor, as if he’s having an internal struggle not to stare. It fuels a sudden flame within you, liking how nervous you make him.

“Just…” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck to have you studying him now. Your eyes scan the curve of his bicep down to a few prominent veins along his arm. You admit to yourself it makes you a little hot looking at him up close and personal. The few glances you throw his way during class just haven’t been enough. Then you meet his eyes, batting your lashes a few times while waiting for him to continue. “I had a bad break-up and I’m kinda stressed and—”

“Say no more.” You raise your hands with a chuckle. “I understand. How about you stay after a few days this week and we can go over the materials and where you’re falling behind.”

“Thank you, Professor,” he simply says with a nod of his head, eyes remaining on the floor. As if he’s afraid to look at you in fear of his gaze becoming stuck.

You smile again while leaning closer. “Good. I’ll meet you in my office tomorrow afternoon.”

He nods, sports a nervous smile, and turns to head out of the room. You raise a brow with a smirk on your lips, already thinking it over in your head exactly how you will help keep his focus during class.

***

The next afternoon doesn’t come soon enough for you. After a stressful day of dealing with a headache through your morning classes, skipping lunch to grade papers, and once again having to brush off your colleagues' flirtatious advances, you're in the mood to blow off some steam.

He is waiting at the door to your office before you arrive. You're thankful he’s punctual, wanting to believe he’s eager to see what the after class tutor sessions involve. He straightens his back when he notices you, and you offer a warm smile in return.

You greet him, reaching behind him to unlock the door with a jingling set of keys. “Ready to get started?”

He nods his head quickly before following you into the office. You shut the door behind him, noticing his wide eyes scan the room around him. It’s a decent sized office made for one person. There’s a desk in the middle, a large, plush chair behind it. There’s two leather chairs on the opposite side for whoever you are meeting with to have a seat, and he quickly settles down in one of them.

You take your time pulling off your tan coat from around your body to hang on the rack. As you step to your chair with your heels clicking along the way, you notice his gaze on you out of the corner of your eye. It causes you to take the opportunity to brush your hair away from your neck as you take a seat, allowing your exposed throat, collar bones, and cleavage to catch his eye.

“So, you are having a hard time paying attention?” you ask, your voice pulling him out of the trance he was in as he remained fixated on the curves of your breasts. He clears his throat, clearly caught staring, and you hold back a chuckle.

“Yeah,” he blurts out, staring straight into your eyes. “Uh, I mean, yes… yes, ma’am.”

A wicked smile curls over your lips. “How do you think we should help you focus better?” Once again, you pull the frames from your face, pearly whites biting the end of the tip gently as your lips wrap around the plastic for only a moment. Then you pull the glasses away, leaving a red print from your re-applied lipstick.

“I-I’m not sure.” He rubs the back of his neck in the moment. You are filled with glee. You have never had this much fun with a nervous man before. It’s not anything new to leave them stuttering, fumbling, mumbling messes, but for some reason, his nervousness makes it so much more fun to you. It also helps you find him attractive, and you wonder if he even knows just how sexy you find the younger man.

“See, I think you’re just too distracted.” You sigh, pulling your body back into your chair and crossing your legs, allowing him to see the curve of your hips and thighs. You fold your arms under your breasts, pushing them up a little. It’s clear he doesn’t know which body part to soak in first. “It’s clear you need discipline. You need to be punished so you can be rewarded, then the end result is always… sweeter..”

He gulps. “M-Ma’am?”

“Have you been disciplined before?” Your tone is stern, strong, and intimidating. His jaw falls open. He isn’t sure how to answer.

“I mean… I don’t…”

You giggle, your nose scrunching innocently. “I thought so.” With that, you stand from your chair, taking your time walking around to him, hips swaying, catching his gaze like it’s stone. You rest on the desk in front of him, peering down into his eyes. “I can teach you discipline, if it’s what you want.”

He licks his lips before gulping once again. “I-I do… yes… yes, ma’am. I really do.” His voice shudders with need. You can see right through him and what he desires from you.

You smirk, knowing fully the two of you are on the same page. “Excellent.” You card your red-polished fingers through your hair, exposing more of your neck to him. “Hm… where should we begin?”

He only stares at you pondering in thought. For a second, you are silent, thinking it over before a wide smile crosses your face.

“Oh! Your last quiz!” Then you hop up from your spot, heels clicking against the tiled floor. “I’m very disappointed in your score.” You pout a little, feigning innocence though your intentions are anything but.

“I-I’m sorry…,” is all he can manage. You lean closer, gripping him lightly by the jaw. You feel his entire body tense beneath your touch.

“You don’t want me to be disappointed, do you, baby?”

Your heart races, taking a leap at the first step in crossing the line. He can either play along, or run away. It’s a risk you were willing to take when you started this little game with him, and you pray he is into it just as you are. If he’s not, you would never mention it again and go back to only being his professor.

“N-No…”

He remains settled in his seat. He never takes his eyes off you. You have him hooked. You're smiling once again. You had a feeling this would be right up his alley.

“No, what?”

“No, ma’am.”

He learns quickly, you think.

“Are you ready for your punishment?” All he can do is nod as you ask. Suddenly, you stand up straight, releasing his face to turn away from him. “Unbuckle your pants and bare your ass. Lean against the desk. Now.”

The snap in the last word makes him jump up. You hear him fumbling with buttons and zippers, clasps and bands as you walk around your desk. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a man move so fast. In the bottom drawer, you pull out a small bamboo paddle. It’s one you had delivered to your office in discreet packaging, and never had a use for it until now. His eyes grow wide when he sees the paddle, making you chuckle in return.

“I need a word,” you begin again, walking over to him. “Your safe word. What is it?” This is a new experience for him, you're sure of it. You are in control, which includes making sure both of you remain safe.

He is silent for a moment, before whispering, “Sociology.”

You refrain from bursting into giggles considering that’s the class you teach. It’s cute and clever, you think, and it’s certainly not anything a normal person would yell during sex, so you agree. You take a moment to take in the sight of his bare ass on display for you. The heart-shaped holes in the paddle will certainly leave nice little marks over his smooth skin. The thought has you giddy with excitement and dripping with anticipation.

“So,” You begin, slapping the paddle against the palm of your hand to cause him to jump, “are you ready to be my little teacher’s pet? Is this something you really want?”

He takes in a deep breath before exhaling the answer. “Yes, ma’am. Please.” He closes his eyes, voice straining. “I want to make it up to you. I don’t want to disappoint you anymore.”

“Excellent.” He can hear the wicked smirk in the word as you approach him. For a moment, you only reach to grab his ass, running your hand over the soft, delicate skin to have his body tensing. Then he relaxes a moment later. “What do you say… five hits for the five questions missed?”

You don't want to go too far for his first time. It’s good to be patient, you think. Only a little taste of punishment and it will have him coming back for more. He seems like the type that would begin to crave the release after a little teasing.

You continue palming his ass until he swiftly nods his head. “Yes.��

Then you raise your hand to land a sharp smack on his soft flesh, sending his body jerking, tensing, as a hiss releases from his mouth.

“Yes, what?”

“Y-Yes, ma’am,” he mutters before exhaling. A peek around his shoulder allows you to see the tip of his cock pressing against your desk, drawing a grin to your lips. You're eager to play with him more, exploring other parts of his body, but for now, you need to punish him. He will receive his reward later, and you will definitely make it worth it.

“Good.” You straighten your back while pulling your hand away. Taking a glance at his ass, you notice a nice, darkened handprint already forming. “Count for me, pet.” With that, you slide the slick surface of the paddle against his ass, noticing him take a deep breath. Then you raise your arm, slapping the paddle against his flesh as he hisses once again.

“O-One,” he mutters with a gasp following.

You smirk, waiting a few seconds before bringing the paddle back down onto his ass once again. He groans as the thud echoes throughout the room.

“Two…” His breaths are becoming deep. Your heart is racing. You love a new toy to play with. The first two smacks go easy on him. You want to warm him up and get him used to it first.

You bring that paddle down onto him again, watching him flench, hearing him groan and gasp. The sound is louder this time. A little harder.

“Thr… three…” He’s gulping and screwing his eyes shut. You rear back, slapping his reddening ass cheeks once again with the bamboo. The sound is even louder and he jumps from the impact. You notice his fingers digging into the desk, probably so eager to touch himself, but he doesn’t make a move without your permission.

“Four,” he chokes out, a heavy exhale following the word and you notice his jaw clenched a second later. This time, you let the paddle linger on his flesh, allowing the sting to settle in nice and hot. His thighs are trembling. His face is tense. Adrenaline rushes through your veins at the sight of him.

“Are you going to pay attention in class, my pet?”

“Y-Yes, ma’am.” He’s quick to answer. He’s learning well.

You lean into him to hover next to his ear, but he doesn’t dare look at you. “Excellent,” you whisper a second before flicking your tongue out to lick his ear. His chest heaves with need, but you quickly pull away while he releases a soft, needy whimper.

Then you pull the bamboo paddle back, landing the hardest smack yet as it thuds against his skin, sending him forward in a moment of weakness. He struggles to keep balance against the desk, thighs trembling, jaw slacked, gasping for breath.

You are satisfied for his first time. After all, he’s probably never had an older woman take control, or probably any woman for that matter. It fuels your ego and fills you with desire to see him in such a state. He’s breathless and weak and bending to your will. The perfect toy for you.

“You did good, baby,” you coo, softening the sting with gentle words and a palm against his ass. You smooth your hand over his flesh, feeling his body slack beneath your touch. “Was that okay for you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he immediately replies as you press your lips to his cheek. He leans into your soft touches while you ease him down from the rush of being punished, grounding him with nurturing words and care. “Are you still disappointed?”

Your body aches with the question. So submissive and so eager to please you already. “No, baby. You took it so well. So proud of you.”

He groans from the praise.

“Can I…” He begins to mutter, piquing your interest.

“Hm?”

“Can I… come?”

A wicked laugh erupts from you, causing him to frown. “Oh no, baby,” you giggle, reaching to run your fingers through his hair before stroking his face with a gentle palm, “you haven’t earned that yet.”

***

Seeing him having trouble sliding into his seat the next day shouldn’t fill you with as much joy as it does. You know his ass is sore and you have been on his mind since you offered your punishments to him. It only helps him keep focused during the lecture, and you pay him no mind at all as you go over the lesson. Though, you can feel his eyes burning into you, filling you with desire through the entire hour you're with the class.

Afterwards, he lingers back as the students file out of the classroom. You resist the urge to smirk, only telling him you will see him in your office after hours. It’s good enough for him, nodding and agreeing to the arrangement to leave your anticipation rising until you see him again.

“You did well today,” you tell him once the students have gone home and the two of you are safe behind a locked door in your office. Only the janitors and a few staff roam the halls at these hours, knowing you won’t be disturbed. “You were focused on the lesson. You paid attention. Now…”

Your voice lingers as his eyes widen, looking up at you while he’s settled in a chair in front of your desk. You're propped up on the edge of the flat, wooden surface, legs crossed, a grin on your lips.

“Now it’s time for your reward.” You notice his eyes darken, ready for his prize now that he’s taken his punishment and learned a lesson. He says nothing, however, waiting for his mistress to speak. You lean in, gripping the younger man by his jaw to feel the heat of his flesh beneath your skin. He’s focused on you, hanging on to every syllable dripping in dominance and desire. “I’m going to allow you to taste me. I’m going to let you eat my pussy and make me come.”

He can’t help but lick his lips. You figured a young man like him would enjoy getting to touch you, feeling lucky enough that he is allowed to do so.

“On your knees,” you suddenly snap, and he is quick to follow the orders. He drops to his knees before you, faded denim jeans pressing to the tile floor and he keeps his eyes on you at all times. “I like it when men take their time.”

As you speak, you push yourself from the desk to your feet. Taking your time, you begin to unbutton your blouse to have his gaze burning into you. You pop each one open slowly, until it falls open to leave the sight of your black, lace bra on display for his eyes to devour. Your breasts show a hint of skin over the top, bouncing a little as you giggle and begin working on your skirt.

“I want you to enjoy eating my pussy. So you need to take your time, and do it right.” There’s a sharpness in your tone that didn’t exist before to have him on edge. If you look hard enough, you know you would already see the outline of his cock through his jeans. The thought thrills you to no end, already knowing you're going to be soaked by the time you take your panties off.

“I liked to be warmed up a little first, to give you a little taste of what’s to come,” you tell him as you push your skirt down to your heels before kicking it to the side. Now you're left in matching black panties. He studies every inch of your exposed flesh down to the V shape of your pussy between your soft thighs. He licks his lips, knowing in that moment he would do any and everything you asked of him. “Have you ever licked someone’s asshole before, baby?”

He blinks for a moment at the question. Clearly it caught him off guard. “N-No, ma’am.”

His hesitant response makes you giggle. “God, having my ass licked makes me so wet. Do you want to taste it?”

“Yes,” he rasps out, then gulps,” please.”

You find him so cute and desperate in the moment, you can’t even care that he dropped the formalities. “Excellent.”

With that, you turn around, leaning over your desk so your palms are flat against its surface. You wiggle your ass a little before instructing him to pull down your panties, slowly, and he follows the orders perfectly. He takes his time, dipping his fingers into the band of the silk to tug the fabric over your hips and the curve of your ass until he’s pulling them off of your feet. Now you're bare in your lower half, and his eyes are glued to the roundness of your ass, the softness of your skin.

“Can I… touch you?” he asks in a whisper, making you grin from ear to ear. “Please, ma’am?”

Well,” you hum, “since you asked so nicely. Grip my ass, spread it apart so you can get a better look, my pet.”

He does exactly as you say. With two eager hands, he presses his palms to your ass cheeks, spreading your folds to take in your ass and pussy slit. You have already grown wet just from anticipation. Your juices glisten beneath the harsh lights of the college.

“What do you think, my pet? Do you want to eat my ass and pussy and make me come?”

“Yes,” he groans, digging his fingers into your flesh, “yes, ma’am. Please, let me taste you. I want to make you come.”

You bury your smile in your shoulder, bending over a little more to give him better access. “Start slow, pet. Kiss me, work your way to my ass before licking me there.”

He follows the words. Leaning closer, he presses his lips to your flesh, kissing your ass cheeks one by one until he draws closer to your awaiting, puckered rim. He offers a few kisses around the rosebud, and you can’t help but to moan. His lips are soft against your flesh. He’s patient even though you know it’s killing him to be so. He follows your every word, and finally he reaches your rim, applying a few kisses over your flesh to make you gasp.

“Slowly,” you command him, trying to be mindful of your own sudden breathlessness. “Lick me slowly, take your time. I want this to last, pet. After all, it is your reward.”

He does as you say. His tongue flicks out to taste you for the first time as he drags the wet muscle over your asshole. Immediately you grow weak with need, but you don't let him notice. Instead, you focus on him tasting you, licking slow stripes over your ass before circling the rim with care. You feel yourself growing wet, dripping over your folds and down your thighs, but you keep your calm and stern demeanor.

“You’re doing so well, pet,” you praise him, hearing him groan against your ass. “Add more pressure.” He follows the words, attempting to bury the point of his tongue in your ass. The feeling makes your thighs tremble, heat swelling from below in the form of red hot desire.

As the seconds pass, he gets more into licking your ass. He palms your ass cheeks while tasting you, groaning against your flesh and circling your rim with his tongue. You allow him to do as he wishes for the moment, feeling bliss rising from the pit of your stomach. He’s a quick learner, you think, getting lost in the feel of his tongue on your body.

You know you need to continue on with the reward, however. You pull away for a moment to turn your body around. While looking down at him, you notice the wild lust igniting in his eyes. He stares up at you, his mouth glistening from his own saliva, lips parted, waiting on your next command like the good submissive he is.

It doesn’t take you long to take your seat against the desk, legs parting, watching his eyes fall to your slippery cunt. You’ve grown too aroused from the moment and feeling his mouth on your ass. Now you want to get off while still remembering this is his reward. Really, you know he needs more discipline. He needs to learn to follow orders if he’s going to be your little pet.

“Go ahead, pet,” you finally say, watching his eyes flicker with desire. “Taste me. Eat my pussy. Make me come on your tongue.”

You leave out the details of how you want it done to see if he’s learned anything. He surprises you when he leans closer, pressing his lips to your inner thigh to take his time. He trails kisses up to your pussy, but stops to tend to the opposite thigh. Once again, he kisses your flesh down to your core, and finally he reaches your mound.

There, he presses his lips to your skin to reach the apex of your sex. You shiver with anticipation. You didn’t realize how much you wanted his mouth on you, and you definitely didn’t realize how badly you wanted to come in the moment.

“Lower,” you guide him, tone still stern though you're becoming breathless. He follows the order, lowering his mouth down your drenched slit as your arousal coats his flesh. His tongue parts your folds, but then you spread your legs wider for him, giving him the full show. He takes his time once again, flicking his tongue over your swollen, throbbing clit before dipping down to the entrance of your pussy. You can’t help but to moan. You love when a submissive takes his time tasting you, wanting to make you feel good. He’s followed every instruction thus far, so you know he won’t disappoint you. “Eat my cunt out. Taste me.”

With that, you reach to wrap your hands around his head. Your fingers slip between the silky strands of his hair, pulling his mouth closer, burying his tongue deep into your awaiting pussy. The sensation has you gasping. You're already so worked up, you wonder if you can keep up your dominant role to teach him a lesson or if you will give in just to get off.

You feel his tongue thrusting inside of you. He gathers up your slippery juices and doesn’t get much of a break to pull away to swallow. You keep his head buried between your thighs. He can’t help but to reach for you, grasping at your legs, digging his fingers into your flesh. He begins to groan, whimper, even shake his head a bit, and you finally release him.

He’s gasping, face glistening beneath the light. The smirk returns to your lips once again.

“Do you like tasting my pussy, pet?” As you ask, you reach to grab a tight hold on his chin, forcing him to stare up at you.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Tell me.”

“I love tasting your pussy, ma’am. I love being able to bury my face between your thighs. I want to make you come. Please.”

Inside his reply with a deep, needy voice is filling you with more satisfaction than you can almost handle, but you keep a solid expression. “Perfect,” as all you say, opening your legs for him once again to push his face to your cunt.

He wastes no time tending to your body. He flicks his tongue over your clit a few times before dropping down to your entrance. He gathers up your juices before circling back to the swollen bud, massaging your flesh with the flat of his tongue. You feel the bliss swelling inside your body. The tension is tightening with every circle he performs around your clit. You know you won’t last much longer. The build up is too delicious. Knowing how submissive and willing to obey he is makes you hotter than anyone you have been with before. The thoughts of all the fun you can have with him thrill you, and he’s proving to offer you pleasure with his own body as well.

“I’m getting close,” you warn him, beginning to grind your pussy against his mouth. He groans against your flesh, sending vibrations through your body in return. “Fuck, I’m gonna come so hard on your tongue. Do you want me to come, pet?”

His reply is muffled between your trembling thighs, but you don't care. You're lost in pleasure, lost in the moment. He swirls his tongue around your clit, tasting all of your juices as you drip onto his flesh. Your body is hot, overwhelmed, so ready for release, and it doesn’t take you much longer to find it.

In seconds you're coming undone. Your pussy walls tighten and you're rocking your hips against him, whimpering, moaning, crying out that you're coming. He never pulls away, making sure to ride out the pleasure along with you. Your honey spills onto his chin, your entire body trembling until it’s all too much for you to handle.

You push him away gently with a hand on his head. He sits back, studying the curves of your body as you struggle to control your breaths. Your eyes are fluttering and your lips are parted. There’s also a pool of your juices beneath you on the desk that you realize is there when you begin to move.

It only gives you another wicked idea.

Carefully, you shimmy off the desk without making any more of a mess, reaching for your panties on the floor to slip past your heels and cover yourself. He stares at you the entire time, not moving, not saying a word. He wants to make sure he did a good job, so he can’t mess up at the very end.

“Hm, seems like you’ve made me make a mess, pet.” You cross your arms beneath your breasts as you speak, looking from him to your desk where you have dripped out after coming. His eyes follow you, taking in the sight of the puddle of your own release, knowing he was the cause of you getting so wet in the first place. “Clean it up. With your tongue.”

For a moment, he hesitates. As if he’s wondering if you're actually asking him to do this. But he gives in, leaning closer, licking your juices off the desk with his tongue to completely satisfy you.

“Good boy,” is all you say, reaching to card your fingers through his messy hair until he’s gotten up every drop. “You’re such a good pet, making me come like that. Your tongue felt so good, baby.”

You sigh, continuing to pamper him by toying with his hair, making him feel relaxed even though his cock is as hard as a rock. He groans at the praise.

“You did such a good job today. I think it’s time we have a little more fun, what do you say?”

“I-I would like that. Please.”

You giggle while pulling away from him. “Not today, pet. We will save it for tomorrow.”

There's disbelief in his expression that you catch. Of course he would want to come. He’s had to endure spanking, and teasing, and tasting you. You can only imagine the torture it’s been for him, but that’s what makes it so fun to you.

“Monday, we will meet here again. You won’t touch yourself until then, understand?”

Then his eyes grow wide at the order. You're sure he’s asking himself how he can hold out until then, but you don't care. You have plans for him the next time you see him. If he follows your instructions, it will be well worth the wait.

***

An entire weekend goes by without him being able to touch himself. All of the pent up sexual frustrations were with him every second that passed until he stands before your office door, impatient, needy, and desperate.

You waltz up like it’s no big deal. You play it cool with a polite smile and a hello, asking him how his weekend was. On the inside, you're buzzing. You know the torturous wait he’s had to endure, and you plan to make it worth his while.

“Did you follow my orders, pet?”

Now that you’re safe inside behind a locked door, your stern demeanor returns. You take a seat on your desk, legs crossed, arms pushing up your breasts just to intimidate him. He is settled in the chair in front of you, eyes focused on your expression, nodding his head to reply. You raise a brow at the response, and he’s quick to correct himself.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Really?” you inquire, a smirk on your lips. “You went all weekend with touching yourself? Without so much as even stroking your cock a few times to relieve the tension?”

“Y-Yes, ma’am.”

“Did you come at all? Did you fuck anyone?”

“No… no, ma’am.”

You notice the tension in his body. It proves his answers to be true. It’s clear he’s already so worked up at just the thought of coming. You aren't sure how he did it, but you believe him.

“Excellent.” With that, you hop off the desk and straighten your pencil skirt over your hips. “Take off your clothes. Your shirt and jeans. Down to your underwear.”

He hesitates for a moment. There’s a flicker in his eyes that isn’t sure if he should be stripping down in your office. What if someone walks in? What if the two of you get caught? But he’s too worked up to care. He needs this. He’s waited for this, and follows your commands.

He does as you say. He peels his shirt over his head, revealing soft skin and tense muscles that make your mouth water. There’s a trail of hair down below the buttons on his jeans he begins plucking. It doesn’t take him long to rid himself of the pants, his socks and shoes, and finally, his boxer-briefs.

He stands naked in your office and so does his cock. The long, thick length twitches under your gaze, growing harder by the second and you can’t help but to lick your lips at the sight of him. He’s naked and waiting, and he’s all yours.

“Lean against the desk, pet.” As you instruct him, you walk around to shuffle through the top drawer. Pulling out a small, clear bottle of lubricant, a devious smile grows on your lips before making your way back to him. He’s followed your orders like always, leaned over the desk, hands flat against its surface.

You make your way behind him. His body is tense as you place a hand on his back, the other reaching around to brush your fingers over his cock. In an instant his hips are jerking. He’s so hard and on edge, you know he won’t be able to last long if you aren't careful.

“You’ve been so patient, my pet,” you whisper in his ear, stopping a moment to lick down his neck to have him right where you want him. “Are you ready to come? Ready for me to stroke that hard cock of yours?”

“Yes,” he rasps out as if he had been holding his breath. “Please…”

You giggle while wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock in a firm grip. “Don’t dare come until I say you can, understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he blurts out, a little too eagerly.

You smirk while pulling away from him. You can see the tension leave his body as you notice the disappointment in his expression. Of course you can’t make it too easy for him. First you need to prep him, reaching for the bottle to pop open the cap and squeeze a few generous drops onto his cock. The tension returns to his body the moment you grip his length once again. Your fingers glide over his flesh to cover his cock in the lube, stroking him a few times just to hear the way he gasps and groans.

“That’s it, my pet,” you coo, “do you like it when I stroke your cock like this?” You remain behind him as you do so, peeking around his shoulder to see the twisted expression on his face. His lips are parted. His eyes are shut. His brow is furrowed. He’s already lost in the bliss you're offering him.

“Yes,” he whispers, then gulps, “yes, ma’am.” He’s so breathless.

Satisfied with his answer, you continue stroking him slowly. You take your time, starting from the base and working to the tip. Sounds of the sticky lubricant fill the office, mixing with his groaning and gasping before he becomes breathless. His fingers dig into the desk, ruffling and crinkling a few papers beneath, but neither pay it any mind.

“That’s good, my pet,” you encourage him, “tell me how much you like it. Tell me how good it feels, pet.”

“Feels—” he gasps, gulping for air. “—so, so good. Please…”

“Please, what?” Your pace quickens a little. Your grip tightens a bit more. He begins trembling, starting with his unsteady thighs. Every muscle in his body is tense.

“Can I come for you, ma’am?” The words struggle to fall from his tongue. His skin is flushed, sweat beading against his forehead. He’s too worked up and turned on for his own good.

“Do you want to come for me, pet?” You ask, stroking his thick, hard cock a little faster. “Do you want to spill all over my hand and make a mess?”

“Yes, please.” He begins pumping his hips toward your motions. A smile forms on your lips at the sight. “I-I can’t…”

“Can’t what, pet?” A little faster, your hand goes. You pump his cock in your palm. You feel him tense and shaking. His breathless words barely reach your ear.

“I can’t…” is all he manages before sucking in a breath of air and spilling his cum over your fingertips. It’s messy as it shoots out, spilling over your flesh, your desk, the papers scattered beneath him. He curses under his breath, body growing rigid and you never stop pumping your fist over his cock.

“Did I fucking tell you to come, pet?” Your entire demeanor shifts. He feels the vibrations in your tone, the words cutting him back to reality though his head is spinning. “And look! You’ve made a fucking mess all over my desk.”

As you speak, you continue stroking him. He’s breathless, body twitching, hips jerking, trying to pull away but you have him right where you want him. The overstimulation makes him melt. He’s too sensitive and too far gone once again.

“That’s right, pet,” you begin again, wrapping an arm around his waist to hold him in place, “keep coming. You want to come so bad? I’m going to stroke your cock until I get every drop.”

You do as you say, and he can barely hold on. His knees threaten to give out, his body so weak from being too sensitive. You couldn't care less. You stroke his cock, milking him for every last little drop until he’s gasping from air.

Finally, you pull away only for him to slump down in the chair behind him. His chest heaves and his breaths are heavy. His eyes flutter closed, body still shaking as he comes down. You consider spanking him again to teach him a lesson. After all, he did disobey you, cutting your fun short and coming before you allowed him to. However, you see the exhausted look in his eyes, realizing the two of you have had enough fun for today. You know how overwhelming the sensations of overstimulation can be. You decide to cut him some slack just this once.

Instead, you reach for the tissues on your desk, plucking a few from the box to clean your hands as best you can. Then you grab a few more to begin cleaning him. You soothe the tension in his body as you do so before grabbing more tissues and wiping the sweat from his face.

“Feeling okay, pet?” Your tone is softer, but you don't drop the entirety of your dominance just yet. “Here, have some.” With that, you reach to the side of your desk to scramble around in your bag, pulling out a water bottle from within. You twist the cap before bringing it to his lips to allow him to have a sip, and he does so without a word. You take the time to run fingers through his hair, bringing him down from the high and pleasure until he’s completely relaxed.

“Better?” you ask him once again, and he nods while you pull the bottle away and stroke his cheek gently. Your fun for the day has finished, but your mind is already running with the possibilities of the next time you are together. You make up your mind right then and there that he has followed your commands for the most part, even though he came without permission. He’s trying his best, and wants to please you. The next time you are together, you are going to allow the both of you a little more fun.

***

For a few days after the incident in your office, you paid him no more mind than any of your other students. You never told him to meet at your office, and never gave him any special attention during lectures. Not so much as a glance even passed his way. You knew it would have him on edge and curious about when you would secretly meet again, and it thrilled you to no end to know you were constantly on his mind.

You continued your lectures as normal. You met with a few students after school and answered a couple questions about the upcoming quizzes. Then you carried on your normal life, allowing the tension to build inside him until he could take it no longer.

That following Friday, he went to you after the lecture to grab your attention, keeping a cautious eye of any students lingering by.

“Yes?” You answer him with no emotion in your tone whatsoever. You only adjust the frames on your face and offer a small smile his way.

“Um, can I…” He glances around the room nervously, lowering his voice even though the students are clearing out. “Can we…”

On the inside, you want to burst into laughter. He can’t even say what he wants. He is so on edge and tense. However, you keep your composure, remaining nonchalant to his muttering.

“Can we?” You blink a few times, watching him shift from foot to foot as he rubs the back of his neck. “What? Do you need help with the lesson?”

It’s like a lightbulb went off in his head. Though he lowers his eyes, he speaks more coherently. “Yes, ma’am. Please.” He gulps between words. “I’ve been having a hard time paying attention this week. I think I need you to help me.”

A wicked smirk forms over your lips, but only for a split-second. Then you're back to the stone expression just to keep him where you want him.

“Fine,” is all you say. Then you rise from behind your desk while pulling the glasses from your face. “Meet me at my office in an hour. Don’t be late.”

He rushes off with a nod. You are left wondering how you can make your student pay attention this time.

***

He is at your office door before you arrive. You're glad he’s punctual, but you know it’s due to desperation. Still, he’s eager to please you and continue these after school sessions, so the thought excites you. He sports a nervous smile to make you think he’s a cute little puppy in the moment, but you brush by him with only orders to follow.

Once inside, you lock the door behind you. Luckily, it hasn’t raised suspicions thus far. The two of you sneaking away and spending over an hour in your office after school would look odd to most passing by. Thankfully, it’s always been after most of the campus has gone home.

You walk to your desk, setting your bag down before taking off your coat. He lingers by the door, waiting on his instructions.

“Clothes off. Sit in the chair.”

He jumps like a dog in training, peeling his clothes from his body piece by piece. He leaves no article on before taking a seat in the chair in front of your desk. Meanwhile, you rummage through the drawers to your desk, pulling out a ribbon of lace from within. It’s soft and pink, and the perfect thing to tie up your little pet.

“If you’re having a hard time focusing,” you begin, making your way to him while your heels click against the tiles, “then we better make sure all your attention is on me. No distractions.”

Already his cock is standing to attention. It twitches with every step you take near him, until you're standing behind the chair. You say nothing as you grab his wrists, pulling them behind him before tying the lace around in a secure knot. You have him restrained now, cock standing up straight, ready to be used.

“Now, won’t that help you focus better, pet?” You are giggling as you take a spot standing in front of him. His eyes are focused on nothing but you, wide and full of lust.

“Pl-Please,” he mutters, causing you to raise your brows.

“Please, what, pet?” You laugh once again before reaching to untuck your blouse from your skirt. “Patience. You’ll get to have your fun, but I get mine first.”

You begin undressing yourself as you speak. You begin plucking the buttons on your blouse, and then tugging the zipper to your skirt.

“I’m going to use your cock, pet. I’m going to come while riding you. And I’m not stopping until I’m dripping all over you, got it?” All he can do is nod, eyes wide, mouth parted. “And this time—” You reach to grab him by the jaw after tossing your blouse and skirt to the side. “—you better not come until I tell you.”

“Y-Yes, ma’am.”

You pull away with a smirk. You're in nothing but a matching silk, black bra and panty set. Your breasts are peeking through the fabric to earn his full attention. You notice the desire in his expression, the desperation and need. He’s eager to have you, but also dying to be used by you.

After a few more seconds, you reach to unhook your bra, slipping it from your shoulders to allow your breasts to bounce free. He can’t help but lick his lips at the sight. Your breasts are on display with hardened, aching nipples to taunt him. You swoop your hair to one side before cupping them in your palms, playing with them for a moment just to tease as you stand before him in nothing but your panties.

Those are quick to go, however. You push them down your hips and flick the thin fabric past your heels. Now you're bare before him and growing wet with anticipation. It doesn’t take you much longer to stand over him, one leg on each side while staring down at him.

“Ready for me to use you, pet?” As you ask, you reach behind you into your bag for a foil wrapper before gripping his cock. Wrapping a strong hold around the base, you stroke him a few times while awaiting his answer, then finally tear the condom wrapper and slip it down his length.

“Yes,” he exhales, “yes, ma’am.”

You grin at his breathless response. All before you lean closer to lower yourself towards his length. He’s hard and ready, pulsing with every inch until you're rubbing your soaked slit against his flesh. Upon feeling the sensation, he can’t help but to groan. He’s been so patient, waiting so long. He wants nothing more than to be used by you, to feel you around him, warm and wet.

“Remember what I said, pet,” you remind him while rolling your hips to caress his cock with your slippery pussy. “Don’t come unless I tell you to.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The words are strained on his tongue as he aligns the tip of his cock to your cunt. You linger for a moment, grinding yourself against him, getting wetter as your juices drip out. Then you begin to slide his cock into you, slowly, taking your time to draw the moment out. His body goes tense in an instant. He can hardly handle the way your heat engulfs him.

“That’s it, pet,” you whisper as you sink down onto his cock. “Feel how wet I am? Doesn’t it feel nice?” You become breathless yourself as he fills you up, feeling the heat rush to your head in pure desire. The words prove to be true with the messy, slick noises filling the office as you push yourself up, only to slip back down onto his cock again.

He hisses, pulling his arms only to be reminded they are tied behind the chair. A groan of desperation builds in his throat as you play with him, working yourself slowly against his cock.

“Answer me, pet,” you suddenly bark, gripping your little toy by the jaw so he keeps his focus on you. “Remember, this is for your own good so you will pay attention to me. If you don’t, I won’t allow you to come, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he blurts out at the thought of not getting to come. “Yes, ma’am, I understand. Please…”

“Good boy,” you reply innocently, leaning in to press your lips to his cheek. All before you begin moving against his cock, grinding yourself over his lap, feeling him fill you up and hit deep within your drenched pussy. It’s almost too much for even you, but you remain focused. Though, you admit how delicious his cock feels inside of you. It’s thick and hard and hits all the right spots. It doesn’t take you long to become lost in pleasure. “Oh, my pet feels so good inside me.”

You begin to tease him with words as you ride him. Your breathless whimpers have him on edge, struggling against the restraints while focusing on anything but how badly he wishes to come.

“Fuck, you’re so hard, and big,” you moan the words, tossing your head back while closing your eyes. You ride him faster, picking up pace as the movement takes hold of you. For a second, you forget all about needing him to focus, truly using him for your own pleasure. “God, you’re going to make me come so quick.”

As you speak, your hand lowers between your thighs to reach your clit. With two fingers, you begin to massage your flesh while fucking his cock, riding him, feeling the tip so deep within your walls. You let loose, moaning and whimpering only because you know how much it begins to affect him. He’s tense beneath you and remaining still as to not offer anymore friction because he won’t be able to hold out. He’s already so on edge from feeling your wet warmth surrounding his cock, from hearing you moan and the nasty words spilling from your mouth.

“Fuck, I’m getting close, pet,” you whimper, grinding yourself quicker, harder against him. He can’t help but to groan, feeling your walls tightening around him, feeling your juices drip to his balls. And without warning, you grip the back of his head to pull his mouth closer, allowing him to press his lips to your bouncing tits as you ride him. He takes in a nipple with a flick of his tongue, following the commands of your body well as you grow closer to your peak.

It doesn’t take too much longer for you to reach your end. You're gasping and whimpering with your breasts in his face. You're bouncing on his cock as you come undone, sloppy, messy noises filling the office for only the two of you to hear. He groans at feeling you come on top of him, feeling you tighten as your walls spasm around him, feeling your juices drip out of you. His mind is going crazy trying not to focus on the pleasure too much, knowing if he does, he won’t be able to last.

Luckily for him, you begin to come down from the high. You're breathless and flushed, but still on cloud nine. Only a few seconds pass before you're back into character, your stone expression returning as you slip off of him carefully. Slowly, you kneel before him, taking his cock in your hands with a firm grip that makes him gasp after easing the condom off of him.

“You are such a good pet,” you encourage him, stroking slowly up to the tip and back down again. “God, you’re so hard. I bet you’re ready to burst.” You giggle just to taunt him, but he can only screw his eyes shut as you tease him with a fist around his cock.

Your pace quickens again, finding it easy to pleasure him thanks to your own juices covering his flesh. Your hand works diligently over his cock, slipping up from the base to rub your thumb along the tip just to watch him squirm. He has too much pent up frustration. You know he won’t last long.

“Ready to come for me?” you ask, watching his eyes pop open as if he’s relieved. “You better come a lot for me. I want you to make a mess all over my hands.”

With that, you reach to cup his balls, offering added pleasure as you stroke him faster. All he can do is mutter a reply and hiss as the sensation. He’s trembling as you work his cock up and down, quicker and quicker, while massaging his balls and watching him begin to jerk his hips.

“Come for me, pet,” you order him, jerking your hand faster, and faster, while cupping his balls as they fully tighten against his body. He’s so close, sweat beading against his forehead, completely breathless. “Come on my hands, make a mess on me. Do it now, pet.”

Your tone becomes sharper and his body reacts to the bite in the syllables. Without warning, he spills over the edge, coming undone and creating a sticky mess over your flesh. His cum spills onto your fingers in ropes of white, and you continue pumping his cock to receive every last little drop.

Even as he comes down, you continue milking his cock, making him come more, sending his body into overdrive where he can hardly handle the sensation. He twitches against the seat, whimpering your name, but you keep going. You stroke him to create even more of a mess, your juices mixing with his cum along his flesh. The slippery noises fill the office to mix with his pleas, telling you that’s enough, he’s had enough, but he knows the safe word. You know he likes being milked for everything he’s got, far too sensitive and overwhelmed, and finally, you pull away once you’ve had your fun.

He’s breathless as he slumps against the chair. His eyes are closed and his cock begins to soften. All the while you reach for the tissues on your desk to clean yourself up, and then him. You take care of him, wiping down his flesh with clean tissues until he’s no longer messy, all before you reach to unravel the lace restraining his wrists.

“You might feel a little sore tomorrow, baby,” you warn him as you massage his shoulders to ease the tension, bringing him back to reality. He says nothing, and you don't push, only scrambling in your bag for a bottle of water to make sure he gets a few drinks. “You did so well.”

As he recovers, you begin dressing yourself. You slip on your bra and panties, followed by your wrinkled blouse and skirt. Luckily, you're only going home after this, so the chances of anyone seeing you in such a state are low.

“How are you feeling?” There’s softness in your tone as you ask, making sure he drinks more water to cool off. You even wipe the sweat from his forehead with a few clean tissues, looking over him to make sure he’s come back from the bliss with a stroke of your knuckles against his face. Over your sessions, you realized how much he enjoys the tender motion.

“Good,” he says, then offers a sleepy grin. “Great, actually”

“How about we go get some dinner?” you offer while handing him his boxer briefs so he can begin to dress himself. The last thing you want to do is send him on his way when he’s in such a vulnerable state, wanting to make sure he isn’t feeling weak or light-headed. You want to continue to take care of him in whatever way he needs in the moment.

“Sounds good,” he tells you with a smile. “I would love that.”

You have a feeling this will be more than a one time thing for the two of you. After all, you both had so much fun. You would love to see how much further you could push his limits, while also seeing how much more he would do to please you.

#i almost didnt post this cause i dont think anyone really liked it the first time but oh well LOL if ppl hate it i'll delete #bts smut #marvel smut #call of duty smut #twilight smut #harry potter smut #jungkook smut #loki smut #nct smut #got7 smut #monsta x smut #stray kids smut #harry styles smut #ghost smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut

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stressed-out-sloth · 11 months

Text

SBI Spiderverse AU

This Au has been bouncing in my head for a while and its unlikely I’ll ever write it so I thought I might as well share it with the world. I came up with this fic after reading the fantastic fic Feelings Out on Paper (for those who haven’t read it, I would recommend it, it’s got an Ours Poetica kind of vibe to it) and thought “Yeah but what if this was a vigilante fic?” and then I saw the commercials for the new Spiderverse movie and thus this AU was born. I hope you guys like it.

Without further ado, here’s the AU:

Tommy is the adopted son of Phil Watson alongside twins Technoblade and Wilbur

Unfortunately, Tommy’s relationship with his family is very strained

They used to be really close when they were younger, but when Wilbur grew older, he thought it was embarrassing to hang out with his baby brother so he pushed him away and called him annoying so he’d leave him alone

Techno was kind of the same way, becoming more introverted as he grew older, he just kept his distance from everyone and preferred being alone. But Tommy being young didn’t understand this and thought that when Techno avoided him, it was because he was annoying like Wilbur said and not because Techno was like that with almost everyone

When Tommy was 10, the twins left for university and decided to go out on their own after graduating. In the 6 years they’ve been gone, they haven’t contacted Tommy once despite making time to call Phil once a week.

Shortly after the twins left for college, Phil got a promotion at his job that required him to be in the office more often, which meant Tommy was alone most of the time

The thing is, Tommy’s neglect is kind of unintentional. Phil is really busy but he makes sure to check in on Tommy every once in a while, and every time he asks how he’s doing, Tommy always says he’s fine. And why would Tommy lie about that? Phil also doesn’t know about the twins not talking to Tommy. If he knew, he’d be pissed.

The twins also have their reasons, but they’re not good reasons and they definitely don’t justify the 6 years of silence

So Tommy’s neglect isn’t out of malice. Even though it’s unintentional, it’s still neglect and it’s no excuse for their actions. Still, they all care about Tommy even if they don’t show it. Tommy understandably doesn’t see it this way

Tommy thinks he’s ignored because he’s too annoying and loud and he’s not as smart/talented as the others, which is why Phil makes time to call the twins but doesn’t spend time with Tommy

Over the years, Tommy grows bitter towards his family, thinking that he’ll never be worthy of Phil’s love/attention like the twins are. It also doesn’t help how he constantly hears about how successful his brothers are, leaving Tommy to believe he will always live in his brothers’ shadows and that they’re happier now that Tommy isn’t in their lives

Yay miscommunication!

Anyways, one day during a high school field trip, Tommy is separated from his group, stumbles into a room he’s not supposed to be in, and gets bit by a spider. You know how the rest goes

So Tommy develops powers and being the reckless teenager he is decides to test them out. During the test run he stumbles upon a mugging and using his newfound powers decides to step in. A week later, the vigilante Spiderman was born.

At first, Tommy did it for the thrill of using his new powers, but now he genuinely wants to protect the city and enjoys the feeling of helping people (it’s also definitely not an excuse to get out of the empty and quiet house that reminds Tommy of just how alone he is)

It’s been 6 months since Tommy became Spiderman and he’s become a prominent figure in the city. Not everybody appreciates his efforts (especially the cops), but for the most part Spiderman is respected and liked by the people

One day, Tommy comes home to see Phil looking excited. When Tommy asks what’s going on, Phil explains that the twins are coming back to visit during Spring Break

Needless to say, Tommy is not pleased. They ignored him, called him annoying, and then went off to college and cut off all contact with Tommy for years, and NOW they’re coming back just like that? He’s having none of it.

Tommy decides to go on patrol after dinner to blow off some steam. During his patrol, he sees a villain (haven’t decided who yet) messing around with some dangerous and illegal looking technology. Tommy breaks the technology so it doesn’t work anymore, but that causes the device to explode, zapping Tommy with some weird energy, causing him to pass out and for the building to collapse

He wakes up to find that the villain and the remains of the technology are gone. Whatever the machine zapped him with didn’t really hurt/affect him in any obvious way so Tommy heads home

A few days later, the twins come home and things are a bit tense.

Wilbur is acting as though nothing changed in their years apart, expecting Tommy to be the same kid who adored Wilbur and followed him everywhere when they were younger. He wants to spend time with him “like the good old days”, forgetting how cruel he was to Tommy before leaving and cutting contact for 6 years. He’s genuinely surprised and hurt when Tommy acts cold and indifferent towards him.

Unlike Wilbur, Techno figures out why Tommy is being distant but doesn’t realize just how badly his actions damaged their relationship so he gives Tommy space expecting him to come around eventually

Meanwhile, Phil knows things are awkward between his sons but he’s under the delusion that the twins kept in contact with Tommy so he thinks his family is still close and that the awkwardness will soon go away. He’s also around the house more and actually being a somewhat-attentive parent despite his busy schedule now that the twins are back (this doesn’t make Tommy bitter at all)

Tommy wants nothing to do with any of them and decides he needs to get out of the house, so Tommy goes patrolling like he always does when he needs to ignore his personal life

So Tommy is patrolling like normal when all of a sudden, not one but three people show up with similar spider-themed suits and using the same abilities Tommy has

Before Tommy can fully process this, one of them ask if Tommy’s the Spiderman of this reality

The strangers tell Tommy that each of them are a Spiderman from a different reality and were suddenly sucked through a portal and brought here. They were hoping to talk to the Spiderman of this reality to figure out what’s going on

The four of them decide to go somewhere private to talk to figure out what happened and how to get each of them back to their own reality

As they’re discussing theories, Tommy remembers about being blasted by the weird energy from the villain’s device and how it seemingly unaffected him.

The four of them theorize that the device was built to bring people from alternate realities into this one, and upon hitting Tommy, the technology decided to bring in people with similar DNA, AKA, other Spider-people

The four of them decide it would be best to reveal their identities for convenience and since they’re from different realities secret identities don’t matter so much

So they all unmask and Tommy finds out that the other Spidermen are Phil, Wilbur, and Techno

Tommy kind of freaks out for a bit, and so do the rest of the Spider SBI (they are especially concerned and surprised about Tommy being Spiderman)

They all share their backstories and find out that the four of them are a family in every universe, the main thing that’s different is which member of their family got bit. Another thing that’s different is the timeline with Tommy getting his powers only half a year ago while the rest of the Spider SBI has had their powers for a few years. (The Spider SBI are concerned about how young Tommy is but are glad he didn’t become a vigilante at 13-14)

Fun Fact: All members of the Spider SBI were bit by different spiders. All of them have the standard powers (which includes biological webbing because let’s face it, none of the SBI are smart enough to make web-shooters) but each of them also has one unique ability. Tommy can create bio-electricity like Miles Morales, but he can’t turn invisible, that power is belongs to Wilbur. Techno has stingers coming out of his wrists that can paralyze people and Phil’s healing factor is so advanced he can regenerate and is practically immortal (think Deadpool or Wolverine)

After doing more planning/investigation on how to get them back to their realities, Tommy says he has to go home but will meet back with them in a while

The next day, this reality’s Wilbur wants to hang out with Tommy, being very pushy about it. Tommy rejects him and lies, saying how he already had plans with friends and leaves to reunite with Spider SBI to help them out.

At first Wilbur was ok with it, thinking that there would always be another chance, but then Tommy rejects Wilbur’s advances the next day and then the next day. Every time Wilbur feels more and more hurt and confused, not knowing why Tommy is treating him so coldly. He also thinks Tommy’s hiding something and desperately wants to know what it is but is told by Techno not be nosey and go snooping through Tommy’s things.

Meanwhile, Tommy is spending time with Spider SBI trying to get them back home.

While they’re investigating, the Spider SBI want to get to know Tommy and ask him things like what his hobbies are, if he has friends, if he’s happy. In that time Tommy also gets to know his fellow spiders, about the ways that they’re similar and different from his own family

The Spider SBI are kind to him, they laugh at his jokes and tell him they don’t think he’s annoying. They are supportive, bandaging him up when he gets hurt, understanding his needs as a meta human, and helping him with some tricks they learned from their experiences as Spiderman

Tommy feels more love and care in a few days from the Spider SBI than he has felt from his actual family in 6+ years

One day, Spider Techno asks if his family is ok with him spending so much time away from the house, surely they must be worried about him, right? And all of a sudden it’s like a damn burst. Tommy tells them everything, about the twins being cruel and ignoring him before leaving for college and cutting contact for 6 years, about Phil barely being around during that time, about how the twins show up out of nowhere and how everyone expects things to back to the way things were.

To say the Spider SBI are pissed is putting it mildly, they are furious about how poorly their counterparts have treated Tommy over the years. They reassure Tommy that he did nothing wrong, that its his family’s fault and they don’t deserve him.

Tommy leaves the Spider SBI feeling lighter, reassured, and feeling a lot better about himself. But all of that comes crashing down when Tommy sneaks into his room only to find Wilbur standing there, holding one of Tommy’s spare spider suits

Being impatient and nosey, Wilbur had ignored Techno’s advice of not invading Tommy’s privacy and decided he needed to know what Tommy was hiding and he needed to know now, convinced that whatever he was hiding was the reason Tommy was being so distant.

Wilbur hadn’t expected finding out that his younger brother was a freaking vigilante with superpowers

Wilbur then waits in Tommy’s room for his brother to return, and when he does, Wilbur confronts him about being Spiderman. He starts scolding Tommy about being reckless and stupid and about how dangerous his little hobby is.

He then asks Tommy if he even cares about how worried they all were, about how being Spiderman was clearly driving a wedge between their family and making him distant with everyone (because surely that was the only explanation for why Tommy didn’t want to be with his family)

Tommy. Fucking. Snaps.

Tommy screams at Wilbur that he has no right to say he’s been worried about him after being a shitty brother and never bothering to call once in the years he’s been gone. He keeps going and says how even before he left he wanted nothing to do with Tommy because he was “too annoying”

The commotion causes Phil and Techno to see what’s going on and they see Wilbur holding Tommy’s spider suit. Wilbur helpfully fills them in on his recent discovery that Tommy was Spiderman

Phil feels hurt, asking why Tommy never told to him, to which Tommy replies “Why would I? You’re never here.”

Tommy then goes on a well-deserved rant about how alone and abandoned he’s felt and how it is unfair for Phil, Wilbur and Techno to shut Tommy out of their lives for years only to now all of a sudden want to be a part of his own life. They didn’t care about him before, so why should they start caring about him now

Techno tells Tommy he’s being unfair, that they’ve always cared about him and have a right to worry about him because they’re family. Tommy just says he hasn’t felt like a part of the family in years before jumping out the window and running away

The next morning, Spider SBI find Tommy and ask him what’s wrong, to which Tommy tells them about what happened the night before and that his family found out his identity

Spider SBI are FURIOUS. Spider Wilbur is especially angry about how his counterpart acted

The Spider SBI tell Tommy he should go on patrol and beat up some bad guys to make himself feel better while they hold down the fort and make progress on how to get back to their dimensions

Tommy agrees and goes out, and as soon as he’s gone the Spider SBI start to plan

So the Spider SBI go hunting and find their counterparts (who are all kicking themselves and wallowing in self-pity over what they’d done to Tommy, feeling horribly guilty and ashamed) and then proceed to kidnap them and bring them back to their base

Once there, the Spider SBI reveal their identities and then start tearing into this dimension’s versions of Phil, Wilbur and Techno, going on and on about just how shitty they were and that they don’t deserve Tommy

This is when Tommy walks in, back from patrol a little earlier than expected. He sees his family all tied up and being yelled out by the Spider versions of themselves and naturally is confused and concerned

When Tommy says that this treatment is a little much, the Spider SBI disagree, especially Spider Wilbur.

He goes on about they need to hear this, that they need to realize just how badly they messed up and how much they’ve taken Tommy for granted and just how lucky they are to have him

Spider Wilbur then says he would do anything to have Tommy back in his life again

And of course, Tommy asks Spider Wilbur what exactly he means by then

As it turns out, Spider SBI all have something in common: shortly after gaining their powers, their version of Tommy died to a criminal, and his death inspired them to help others

In other words, Tommy is their Uncle Ben’

This is why Spider SBI reacted so strangely when they found out Tommy was this universe’s Spiderman and why they were so angry about their counterparts’ treatment of Tommy. Because in their universe, Tommy’s been dead for years and this universe’s SBI don’t realize just how lucky they are to have him in their lives

I haven’t figured out the exact details of the rest of the plot but I do know the ending

Spider SBI with the help of Tommy (and possibly regular SBI) manage to go back home to their own dimensions after defeating the villain. They all have an emotional and tearful goodbye, with Spider SBI telling Tommy that they’ll miss him and Tommy telling them that he’s sure their Tommy’s would be so proud of them

After that the Phil, Wilbur, and Techno of this dimension all apologize to Tommy for how they treated him and resolve to be better after finding out how much Tommy suffered and getting a wake up call from their Spider selves

Slowly, they become more involved in Tommy’s life, supporting and helping him out with being Spiderman when they can while also being there for him in his normal life

It takes a very long time with probably a lot of therapy, but very slowly the four of them heal and become a real family again

Wow that was a lot of writing. If you’re reading this it means you’ve made it this far and I’m really thankful you took the time to read my ramblings. I really hope you enjoyed this silly little AU, until next time!

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see-arcane · 16 days

Text

Blood of My Blood: The Law's Delay

Shout out to @ibrithir-was-here for putting up with my never-ending goal of overfilling the glorious Blood of My Blood AU with my ramblings and extra shout out to @everchangingfungusthoughts and @animate-mush for tripping me down the slope of Writing Another Text Brick. Specifically via this whole thing.

Summary: Jonathan Harker, now fifteen years deep into his life at Castle Dracula, finds himself the unwilling guest of yet another frightful host and his company. Talk and violence and time tick by.

The sun sinks low.

The dead travel fast.

And a vital Lesson is taught regarding the Law of the land.

Warnings for graphic violence, suicide, and murder.

Jonathan’s head ached.

Partly from the agonized spot at the back of his skull where the cudgel had struck. Mostly from the state of his current company.

They were nomads, he knew, but not Dracula’s men. This lot were too fresh for that. In fact, some wore tailoring that the locals weren’t accustomed to apart from tourists and the occasional city dweller passing through. He wouldn’t bet money on how many were ‘donated’ from past victims and how many were afforded through helping themselves to said victims’ purses and personal cheques. They were a dapper group, whichever the case.

From what he picked up while feigning unconsciousness, there was someone missing from their assembly. Someone’s…paramour? Wife? A young woman close to the presumed leader. Some grousing about superstitious idiots. Counter-grousing about precaution and history and how somebody’s cousin’s friend was slaughtered by the ‘superstitions.’ A third sect was grumbling about how thin Jonathan’s pockets were for a supposed noble, monster or not.

“A half-full purse and a few strips of dried pork don’t particularly line up with your theory, Jacob.”

“Props, idiot. Would some common huntsman be wearing what he wears? Would he have these?”

Jonathan heard the heavy jingle of his set of the castle’s keys. They had taken the ring of them from its chain among a handful of other lightweight treasures. All that and his wedding ring. That would cost them.

“Oh, yes. Of course. Because all the revenants who run a swatch of the Carpathians’ government are surely wandering around with frightful things like jerky and house keys.”

“Are you blind? Do these look like house keys? Half of them look older than the mountains!”

“Well, perhaps that is the ‘prop’ of his property, eh? A fancy set of keys made to look old. They certainly haven’t any rust. It wouldn’t be a terrible gimmick these days. Everyone is a fiend for the local bogeyman or a good haunting. I would do tours with my own castle, dribble a little red sauce on my lip, charge a fee for the thrill and the courtesy of not killing anyone on the way out.”

“You talk like it’s a joke. This, when I was raised in these godforsaken crags, and my own neighbor lost their newborn and its mother in the same night! The father blew his brains out when he found what was left of them in the forest. His forest.” The words were hissed in Jonathan’s direction. “God! If we had known how easy it was to take him by daylight!”

There was a snort. The leader’s voice. Sour.

“You say ‘we’ like you weren’t still in nappies, Jake. Like the castle in question isn’t a fortress on a cliff in the dead center of the mountains, all covered with wolves and your frightful bloodsuckers. What would Mama and Papa do if they knew better back then? March all the way up with the neighborhood and hope they made it in time before sunset? That’s assuming the advised tools of the trade actually mean anything against the bastard in question. If he’s as old as legends claim, throwing himself through a hundred wars’ meat grinders with his head and heart and all his other giblets getting minced, with him still standing after it, who’s to say an axe and stake are enough?”

A kick was delivered to the chair Jonathan sat bound to.

“Assuming this piece of work is said bastard.” Spoken with equal parts resignation and frustration. “I’ll grant he looked a bit off in broad daylight. Sure as hell would pass for a cadaver. But if this is the man who had your slovenly little villages soiling themselves after dark, I’m not impressed.”

Snickers from most of the room. A few grimmer sounds from the believers.

“If you don’t believe us, then—,”

“I believe in precaution, Jake. There are strange things in the world. If we want to believe that talking pile of dust, Vordenberg, who I’ll admit was a museum exhibit in his own right, we had us a near miss back in Gratz. So, fine. We finish this in the fashion of the locals. We can even set the pieces on fire if it makes you happy. Not the point. The point is—,”

A hand caught in Jonathan’s hair and wrenched his bowed head up, making the back of his skull throb anew.

“—we know Katrina was seen with you last, you ghoul.”

Jonathan opened his eyes. It had a noticeably sobering effect on much of the room. His host even eased his hold enough to stop trying to rip Jonathan’s hair out. A glance was spared for the assembled party. Easier now that he wasn’t doing it through his lashes. They really were a well-dressed bunch. One of them even wore the silver watch taken from Jonathan’s pocket quite well, though it clashed somewhat with the dagger he was fiddling with. He’d sprung for a handle with a gold hilt.

“Well?” He received a last yank before the man flung his head against the back of the chair. “Where is she?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know anyone by that name. Could you describe her?”

“Oh, I doubt if she would give her real one out to anyone. But we know you know her, Count.”

Jonathan felt the headache blossoming into a migraine.

“Count?”

“Dracula,” the one called Jacob grated out. He stood close to the table with his hand near the aforementioned tools of the trade. A wood axe. A sharpened garden stake and a sledgehammer. Matches. But he, like the rest of his friends, was content to leave his other hand resting on the pistol at his hip. “Don’t think you can throw your word games around here, you leech. You are not boyar here. You are not even a monster by daylight. Just a man—,”

“A man I am talking to, Jake,” from the leader. He turned back to Jonathan. “You see we have some bias in the retinue. Now, Jake and his cadre believe you are, in fact, the same awful old man who likely played out his Báthory fantasies by killing off a few local rustics for kicks once upon a time. Same white hair, same carcass complexion, and some properly unhealthy-looking windows of the soul. As an aside, you have the same body heat as a slab from the butcher. If you had a chance of living beyond today, I might have recommended you see a doctor about your circulation.

“Because I, like the bulk of the room, am of the belief that you are Count Dracula in the sense that the original Count and some Countess loved each other very much and managed to squat your malformed self out into the world before croaking. And, before departing, father dearest passed on the family tradition of idly killing off whoever was convenient as a little hobby. Am I near enough?”

Jonathan said nothing. Chiefly because he was fighting a wave of nausea, but also because it allowed him to keep his gaze steady. The westward window was visible over his host’s shoulder.

“I asked you a question.”

“I will answer if you tell me how you possibly concluded that a middle-aged man walking in the woods was a nobleman.”

To his surprise, the man revealed his evidence: the tarnished gold clasp of a dragon sitting against a garnet setting. This would also cost them.

“Hard to imagine the average hiker idling around in that corner of the wilds with this particular emblem on his coat.”

“That’s true,” Jonathan nodded. “I am not a hiker or a hunter any more than I’m a count. I am only the castle’s retainer.”

“Ah, well. That’s different. We are men of the people, sir, and we take pride in doing our fellow servile class the courtesy of a quick death. It’s only the aristos and nouveau riche who get the extra effort. Them and bleached out old bastards who go around taking what’s ours. What’s mine.” Jonathan watched the man slide a handsome pearl-handled blade from his pocket. It had a very fine edge. “Case in point, a certain young lady, of the flaxen and doe-eyed variety, being spotted in town with an older man of very unique description, not two days ago. Who she left with in his goddamn caleche.”

The blade came down in a gleaming arc. It sank cleanly into Jonathan’s left shoulder. Jonathan screamed at this and at the blade being flicked out. The steel was wiped clean on his sleeve.

“It should go without saying,” the leader said over Jonathan’s noise, steadily dwindling into hard breaths behind his teeth, “that the locals have a few choice theories about just who and what the man driving those horses is. Human? Dead? Dracula or one of his cohorts? Anyone who’d know for certain is either underground or a living antique themselves. Oh. But they did point out you seemed polite enough, according to most. Not someone anyone is eager to shake hands with, but fair. If you are the old devil of before, the younger generation are relieved you’ve gone mellow with the new century. Well done on the new leaf.”

“They were lying,” Jacob intoned, the picture of exasperation. “We all used to lie about him! He had eyes and ears everywhere! You didn’t mention him aloud unless you wanted to wake up to your child missing or you yourself being drunk dry or taken apart! I’m telling you, Katrina is already gone or worse!” His hand clutched eagerly at the whittled garden stake. “Let us be done with this, Anthony.”

Anthony gave his blade another cleaning swipe. He opened his mouth—

“The stake is wrong.”

—and closed it. He and the others peered down at Jonathan as he righted himself against the chair. The migraine was marching in circles around his head now, lighting fireworks and banging pans. At least his shoulder was a small distraction.

“Say again?”

“The stake. You haven’t finished the end of it. If you don’t burn the point down, harden it, the wood will just splinter if you don’t get it in one blow. One of you took the flint lighter from my coat, yes? Use that and save yourself the matches.”

The room looked owlishly at him. Jacob and his small band especially. Awkwardly, one of the latter fished out the stolen lighter and began cooking the point with its steady flame.

“See that? He’s already feeling accommodating.” Anthony clapped his palm with heavy chumminess against the wounded shoulder. Jonathan winced appropriately, stealing another squinting glance at the window. “Care to keep in this giving mood, or would you like me to even things out?” The blade pointed airily at Jonathan’s right shoulder.

“No need. I said before, I do not know anyone named Katrina. But I did give a ride to a young woman two days ago. Not ‘flaxen,’ though. Her hair was red.”

Anthony abruptly straightened. The blade twisted and fidgeted in his fingers.

“Red,” under Anthony’s breath. His brow furrowed. “She took the wig too?” There was a low murmur from the less vampirically-invested portion of the group, of that specific tone that declares ‘I told you so’ by vowels alone. Anthony whirled on these members like a viper. Several mouths snapped shut. “Did you lot have something you wished to share? Hmm? I’m all ears.”

Interest increased in the state of each other’s shoes, the floor, the lovely view of the mountains, and the progress of the stake. It was now neatly blackened and free of loose slivers. Jacob stood by with it, toying with it as Anthony had his knife. He kept trying and failing to meet Jonathan’s gaze.

“Ah,” Anthony grinned mirthlessly, “that’s what I thought you said.” The blade flashed. “Now, Count, Retainer, Whoever or Whatever, while you are being forthcoming, is she alive or dead? I confess I might be just as happy with one or the other at this point, so no need to fret over a lie.”

“She was alive the last time I saw her. I dropped her off outside Bistritz,” Jonathan said, clearly recalling turning the horses toward Bukovina. He winced again as Anthony laid a hand on the bleeding shoulder, driving his thumb against the wound as he leaned.

“And? How did the bitch pay for her ride? Did you introduce her to necrophilia or did she just throw my money at you?”

“Neither. I am a married man and you can tell I had no bank vault in my pockets. In any case, I must assume whatever she took from you was fair recompense.” Jonathan felt a shift come through him. The old cold tilt that made him lean three-quarters of the way out of humanity and into something else. Whatever it was that lit his eyes and froze the air around him. That made the entire room shift an unconscious inch back. “Considering the state of her face.”

Anthony’s own countenance squirmed between aggravation, anger, and a surreal flash of embarrassment. As if leaving the girl’s face mottled with patches in shades of plum and charcoal was the equivalent of friends overhearing a marital spat in the next room. The man’s lip curled, making the well-trimmed whiskers twitch.

“Do forgive me if my decorum isn’t up to your standards, sir. I tend to get a touch irate when the thankless sow I’ve been bedding not only comes within inches of blowing our cover over some brat who went and poked his head out at the wrong time, but has the gall to try and resign after a few threadbare months. As if I didn’t scrape the little strumpet out of the gutter with my own hands.” A storm roiled in the man’s face. “Had a whole life of gold ahead of her, getting to play out her idiot actress dreams, and she thanks us by taking off with three hotels’ worth of work. Over a goddamn toddler. But that is the way with women, isn’t it? Always falling apart over a babe.”

“Men as well, in my experience,” Jonathan hummed. His line of sight drifted back to Jacob, whose attention was now firmly split between Jonathan and the view from the west window. Even halfway through spring, the sunsets did still tend to rush in the mountains. Shadows were already starting to stretch.

“Personal experience?” Anthony asked with an appraising glance that saw value in the negatives with Jonathan’s mien. “Is there a little Dracula pup crawling around nursing on the countryside?”

“Oh, no. He’s grown out of crawling. Apart from roaming along the castle walls, when he wants to surprise me. There’s no getting away with it with his mother.” Jonathan swallowed a bitter lump, knowing it had to be heard aloud, “Or his father.” Jacob was looking at him now. This time Jonathan held his eyes as they grew an increment wider. A slight dew of sweat had formed on the young man’s brow. “I only know where they are half the time. But they can always find me.”

Anthony barked an acidic note that tried to be a laugh.

“Is this the part where you tell us you’ll be missed? That there’s some cavalry who will come seeking vengeance? Please spare yourself the storytelling. If you were anything other than a relic living off a skeleton staff you wouldn’t be driving your own horses or puttering around by your lonesome. Really, what we’re doing here is a public good. What’s the loss of one more parasite riding into the twilight of peerage’s relevance?”

“Regrettably, he has thought ahead on that,” Jonathan admitted. “The gold he’s already sitting on is kept partly for emergency seed money, but mostly as a memento. He’s been on top of the capitalistic pulse since 1652 going by the oldest records. Given another decade, I believe he’ll be a magnate in a dozen industries from here to the United Kingdom.” A genuine moue puckered his face. “He calls it investing in the live-stock. No, I didn’t think it was funny either.”

This he addressed to Jacob.

Jacob, who had to set the stake down because his hand was shaking.

Jacob, who had been keeping watch of him and the window and seen how blandly Jonathan greeted the approaching dusk.

Jacob, who had finally taken a closer look at what Jonathan wore under his coat. His coat, worn because he was always cold—a chill that he truly felt. Covering an ensemble of boots, long sleeves, and a high collar. In mid-April.

“…You still have time,” Jonathan told him gently. “If you had your childhood here, you know there’s time. You still wear your crucifix, yes?” Jacob flicked his gaze up to Jonathan’s. His whole face seemed to shine with perspiration. He did not know what was wrong yet, what piece was missing, but he scented something. “Do you? Any of you?”

Jacob nodded jerkily. The men behind him did likewise. Some fidgeted at their shirts.

“That’s good. It sickens them, did you know? Stings them away from the throat.” Jonathan smiled for him. A sad curl. “Hold it out before you if you like.” He tipped up his chin. Just above the shirt collar was a glimpse of sickish color against the maggot-white skin. Something worse than a bruise. “You can check. Or ask one of your friends. But it does help to know for certain. To have it confirmed.” The smile grew worse in its apology. “There have been no vampire attacks in Transylvania for the past fifteen years. The youngest around here take it all as local legends. Parents’ and grandparents’ fairy tales. Because they grew up without knowing what you do. Without realizing why people stopped disappearing after dark when Count Dracula still rules here. When there are still sharp mouths to feed up in his mountains.”

Jacob gawped openly now. He looked strangely like the boy he might have been fifteen years ago, hearing his neighbors whisper and moan about the latest loss in the night. Fifteen years ago, when a foolish young Englishman had come to Castle Dracula, and everyone had known. No one had seen him again…supposing one belonged to a family who had moved away at last, daring their monstrous master’s ire to save their son.

“Oh, for God’s sake, what is this? Are we playing theatre now?” Anthony and his handful of fellow eye-rollers looked between Jonathan and Jacob as if expecting to spot some invisible party holding up script cards for them. “Jake, if you want to play at slaying the vampire, you are welcome to it. Get your stick and your hammer and have at it. Erik, take the axe.” He waved his blade like an impatient conductor with his baton. “Well?”

Jacob moved forward without the stake. His crucifix was held out as far as the cord would allow.

Then he hooked Jonathan’s shirt collar and pulled it open.

Jonathan hadn’t been able to get a good look at the full state of himself in some while. Occasionally he might steal a glance in a mirror for sale or a clean shop window in town. There was rarely anything good to see as far as his development went. Age was not weathering him the way it would an ordinary man. What should have become the easy creasing of crow’s feet and smile lines had given way to something sunken and grey. More than a few children had come to nickname him ‘Herr Geist’ when he passed through. On one occasion, he’d been approached by an American claiming to be a talent scout for a circus who thought Jonathan could easily bill as, The Walking Corpse.

But that was all just the effect of his face. He hadn’t seen his throat or a clear view of his shoulders in years; the real estate with the greatest number of visits for fifteen years. It had to be at least twice as unpleasant a sight as his forearms, pocked by only one hungry mouth’s nursing. To judge by the shudder of revulsion that jolted the entire room back on its heels, his neck was apparently quite the visual.

To judge by Jacob’s expression, the discolored map of ruined skin and old punctures was his own obituary in all capitals. Nor was it a very peaceful end it spelled out. His eyes rolled up to Jonathan’s like wet marbles. Jonathan could no longer maintain his smile, however somber. There was only condolence in the look.

“I told you. I am Castle Dracula’s retainer. At least, in the sense of a retaining wall. I have played the role of its inhabitants’ personal bloodletting pantry for a quarter of a century. Which would be cause enough to worry. But I am also a married man and that is worse.”

Jacob wobbled on his feet like a sapling in a high breeze. He almost fell over with a cry when the first thunderclap boomed over the cabin’s roof. A horrified look shot to the westward window. Sunset was less than a jagged slit across the mountaintops, already erased in the smear of a rushing storm. Lightning drew livid eyes in the clouds.

“I am sorry. You might have had a chance if you hadn’t been cautious,” Jonathan went on. “There would have been a coin toss if you had simply shot me dead in the forest. I fear I am testing everyone’s patience in that household by keeping to my contract against turning until the twenty-year mark. Special occasion and all that. But if you had gone with a bullet or a slit throat, that would mean that I would be undead by sundown. You would still be slain for trespassing on private property,” he gestured to himself as best he could with his bound hands, “but it would have been tidier. They might even be grateful for ripping off the plaster and booting me over the threshold. A mere snapped neck apiece.

“Unfortunately, I saw your tools of the trade. I heard your plans for ‘destroying the vampire,’ or the madman playing pretend as such. Heart staked, head removed, burn the body. All very thorough. But because I saw and heard these things, they saw and heard these things. Just as they know your faces now.”

Thunder snarled again. An explosive sound joined with a noon-bright flicker of lightning. Wolves sang a violent song. Close.

Jacob’s friends within the gang were talking in frantic tones to each other. The rationalists of Anthony’s side of the room seemed a touch less comfortable where they stood, grasping at their holsters. Anthony himself looked as if he was waiting to wake from a particularly confusing dream.

Jacob’s eyes were running. Pleading. A man only five short years past being a boy.

Jonathan still could not hold a smile for him, but he spoke in the tone he had for Quincey the time he’d came across a bat with a half-broken neck in the forest. Wings smashed, head cracked open, it had been alive in the worst way. Quincey had been thirteen then, considering himself practically a skip away from adulthood. He had still gone to his Papa, eyes dewy with blood trying not to spill, asking please…please…

Jonathan thought back to how his son had hidden in his coat sleeve while he ended the creature’s pain with a brisk twist.

It was quick, you see? It won’t hurt anymore now, shh, it’s alright, son.

“It’s alright,” he said in the present. “You still have time.” Not much. A few minutes at most. But still, “You’ll be safe from it. From all of it.”

Jacob nodded with a twitch. A puppet on a caught string. His hand trembled as it held up the crucifix again.

“…May I keep this? After?” Jonathan nodded. “Thank you.”

Jacob kissed the Cross and tucked it under his shirt.

“Jake, I swear to God, if you don’t drop this act, I will—,”

Bang.

The sound was almost lost in another thunderclap. Not so for the sound of Jacob’s corpse hitting the floor, the new tunnel in his head oozing a scarlet pond out from under his skull. There was a moment of quiet.

Then the wolves bayed again.

The men bayed too. Curses and questions of equal inanity whirled around the room.

Bang.

The sound of Anthony’s own pistol firing a hole through the ceiling.

“Shut. Up. Every one of you, bite your idiot tongues.” The barrel swung to point at Jonathan’s temple. “He says he has people on the way? He says they’re vampires or werewolves or the Four Horsemen a-riding? Then it would perhaps behoove us to think rather than squeal like women over this,” his shoe struck Jacob’s corpse, “fool’s choice of exit. Coward.” He snapped his fingers at the room. “Come on! Block the windows, set up arms! Move!”

And so they moved. Some men scrambled and shouldered into each other trying to cover the windows. Chairs were broken into pieces for stakes. Guns were unpacked and loaded. Erik held the axe as if his hands were welded to it. Anthony, meanwhile, took one of the unbroken chairs for himself and perched at Jonathan’s side. Something between supreme irritation and a baffled sort of wonder shaped his face.

“I do have to give you credit if this is all improvisation on your part. You should have been booked at the Grand Guignol instead of rotting up here.”

Jonathan watched Erik begin to pace, gripping the axe as though it doubled for a shield.

“That or one of those hypnotist acts. Jake was always a nervous one. An easy mark, ironically enough.”

Jonathan’s peripheral caught on Erik’s figure as he came to a stop by the door. There was no peephole to spy through, yet he inclined his head toward it. His ear was cocked as if listening for something under the thunder and wolves.

“But supposing this amounts to something more than an act, I admit I’m curious to see what these things are supposed to be like outside the pulp on the bookshelves or clogging up the stage. Everyone has their opinion on them these days.”

Erik first frowned, then nodded at the bolted door. The anxious creases of his face began to smooth. A smile tugged his lips up as the axe lowered.

“Are they the same kind of horror show as you?”

“Usually quite the opposite,” Jonathan allowed. “But that is by choice. They make some rather impressive exceptions when the occasion calls for it.”

Erik set the axe down. His freed hands moved the wooden bolt aside and reached for the key on its hook. This didn’t go unnoticed. The nearest man, one of Jacob’s friends, jolted toward him.

“Erik, what the hell are you doing?”

“Didn’t you hear her?” Erik spoke over him in a dreaming lilt. “The girl outside. Lovely voice.” He turned the key in the lock. “She and her brother got lost in the storm.” He turned the knob. “Wouldn’t be right to leave them out th—,”

Bang.

Erik dropped like a felled tree. Jacob’s friend whirled on the rest of the room, his gun and free hand up. He had his crucifix worn outside his shirt now.

“I had to! You know I had to! Jacob and old Vordenberg laid it out, didn’t they? You invite the things in and it’s all over!” He pointed at the door with the new stain on its timber. “One of them is out there right now, trying to worm into our heads, so we’ll let it over the threshold.”

As every eye nailed itself to the man and the door and the second corpse within five minutes, no one paid attention to the fireplace. They had not lit it, having opted solely for lamps. Chimney smoke would give away their location to anyone happening by the area.

Only Jonathan stared at the open stone mouth of the hearth. Watching what crawled out. Watching it watch him.

Anthony swatted Jonathan in his bad shoulder. He looked up and realized he’d been asked a question.

“Pardon?”

“Is he. Telling. The truth. Or did Erik lose his brains over nothing?”

“A vampire cannot cross the threshold of someone’s home without invitation. I think, at a stretch, you could call this temporary base of yours ‘home.’ Strict definition is tricky for travelers. But if you declare this place yours—,”

“We do,” insisted half the room in unison.

“We do,” Anthony echoed, somewhat dryly. “Our lovely domicile, this. And we are strictly against welcoming any visitors tonight.”

“Understandable. But there’s still the trouble of this afternoon. It’s hard to be more insistent about an invitation than resorting to abduction.”

“And? What of it?”

The fireplace continued to purge its contents out and out and out. Cooling the room like a thin and steady gust. Heads finally began to turn as gooseflesh spread and the sight became unignorable: A thick mist had been pouring into the room since Erik’s brains splattered on the door.

“You thought I was Count Dracula. Whether I was him or not, he was the man you wanted here.” Jonathan looked Anthony in the eye. He was not surprised at what he found there as it squirmed and sweated. “I’m afraid you invited him in two hours ago.”

The lamps guttered. One snuffed. Then its neighbor. A third, a fourth. Voices raised in tandem with the weapons.

“Light them!” came the universal cry. “Turn them back up, come on!”

But the room blackened and blackened until it came down to one canny fellow who’d dived for a lantern. The same man who’d pocketed the flint lighter. He lit the lantern and set it shakily on the table, its glow seemingly safer than the lamps’. The lighter was almost as bright in his hand, making a spotlight for himself in the ruddy gloom.

“What? What is it?”

Every head was turned to face him. Every eye wide enough to show its whites, like the stares of startled horses. The man opened his mouth to utter a third query—and stopped.

There was a hand on his shoulder. Cold. Far colder than the man he’d taken the lighter from. Its fingers ended in claws.

Above his head, the firelight caught on what might charitably be called a grin. It was, in fact, the default state of Count Dracula’s jaw in this shape. A medley of the wolf and the bat and the nightmares that are born when children’s imaginations first start to sketch the things that will eat them in the dark.

Jonathan wished he could have closed his eyes for all that followed. He did try. But there was an implicit order sunk into his mind that demanded he watch. Had this been a decade ago, this may have been for the sake of an object lesson.

This is what I can do. This is what I would have done to your little hunting party at the right hour, with your guard down for an instant. This is what I will do to any sheltering cattle you try to run away to with wife and child. Watch, my friend. Watch.

But that was practically a lifetime past. They were coming up on a mere five years until the wait was over and his free will and the final fig leaf of humanity was forfeit. Which suggested that he was a captive audience solely for the fact that an audience was desired. There was some artistry to it all, in a medieval sense. Some of the acts performed with the makeshift stakes and the barrels of guns and certain repurposed bones reminded Jonathan of old woodcuts left out for him to see once upon a time, back in that first summer alone with the castle’s Master.

By the time one of the men died choking on his own severed arm, the rest of the lot stopped shooting and herded themselves to the door, desperate. To their relief, there was no vampire at the threshold. They fled.

A heartbeat passed before the screaming began anew. Gunfire mingled with it. The screaming dwindled down and down, the choir thinning to a single shriek that ended on a terrible sound. Wet and crunching. Wolves were heard soon after.

Anthony had not moved from his position behind Jonathan’s chair. He’d resumed his grip on his hair, this time holding his blade just below the Adam’s apple.

“If you don’t have a head,” Anthony panted at the Count, now busy picking gristle from the spades of his nails, “you can’t be undead. The plays make a lot of fuss about staking the heart, but this?” He tugged Jonathan’s head back another inch and pressed the blade’s edge until the skin broke. “I figure it’s a fair bit more vital. I am a practiced man at my profession and quick when I need to be. You want him in one piece instead of two, you leak yourself out the door, call off your pets, and I’ll send him on his way come sunrise.” Though he couldn’t see him, Jonathan was certain the man was trying to smile. “If you’re amenable, perhaps we can even get a silver lining out of this whole thing.”

Dracula sucked a piece of sinew out of his thumbnail.

“I am accustomed to getting my hands dirty. While I’ve been in the habit of leading assorted hapless dregs around, I can easily see myself following someone worth respect. Your friend here indicated he’s on the edge of retirement anyway, and I imagine you could do with someone to step into the role. Or add to the ranks.”

Dracula busied himself with scanning the floor. He plucked up the silver watch still chained to a torso that was twisted like a wrung washcloth. A scowl was spared upon retrieving the key ring from a puddle of a head. Then the pouch containing Jonathan’s allowance. He deposited each bit of treasure found on the table. The last thing he discovered was Jonathan’s wedding ring. He seemed to ponder flicking it aside, but saw Jonathan watching. The ring was dropped in the pile the way one might discard a clump of dirt.

“Well?” from Anthony. “Do you talk or not?”

“I do,” from the Count. “Though not usually to vermin. Especially ones who raid my pantry.”

“Honest mistake on our part. I hadn’t realized you were the one-in-a-thousand legend that isn’t just the fumes of an invented ghost story.”

“I see.” Dracula bent and retrieved the stake that had its point burned. It left the holster of a man’s sternum with a damp sound. “And this too was a mistake?”

“Just trying to placate the skittish sorts in the party. You saw how Jake was.”

“I did.” The Count tapped the stake’s point against his chin, pondering. “In fact, I think I recall a face like his. A sailor I met once. He took to the sea, having no bullet in reach.” He leveled the stake at Anthony’s head. “You called him a coward for this, yes?”

“Am I wrong?”

“There is a fine line between cowardice and wisdom,” Dracula shrugged. “It moves more than you would think. Little Jacob was wise tonight, if sadly mistaken in his target. He was not the first of his type. Likely not the last. The same goes for you, vermin. You, who squeak and chitter about preying upon the predator, and then try to sell yourself to the cat.” Though much of his face had reset to a human shape, the Count’s teeth remained a bristling forest of white needles when he grinned. “I have had this land in my jaws for half a millennium. I have not gone a single century without your like slinking underfoot, thinking to kiss my cape and offer a tithe of others’ throats to win my favor. My power.”

“Way of the world, isn’t it? Strong bows to stronger. What makes this cadaver,” another jerk on Jonathan’s hair, another throb in his skull, “so special? Better resumé? Seasoned arteries?”

“A number of things.” Another shrug, a twirl of the stake like a toy. “He does so hate to hear it anymore. It has been so long since any kind of praise heartened him and age has made him shy. But he cannot shush me, so I can say he does far more than bleed, be it himself or his victims of old. He certainly has a more impressive history than robbing and gutting tourists for a living, and so is far more attuned to the Law of this land than any other. Not the yapping dogs of mortal authorities. Not your jailor or judge or bureaucrat. Not even those of the sciences, such as they are.”

Thunder cracked and lightning danced. The Count’s eyes burned brighter than the lantern.

“He knows that I am Law in these mountains. That my will, my word, and my want order all that is here. He knows that there is no escaping consequence for trespassing upon what is mine. But.” The Count clapped the stake into his open palm with the joviality of a cruel teacher with his yardstick. “Beyond all this, he is something which guarantees his value over yours or any other’s. He warned you himself.” The jagged grin turned almost saccharine. “He is a married man. And you have kept him out far too late for his spouses’ liking.”

Anthony shifted behind the chair. The grip on Jonathan’s hair shuddered a moment as if suddenly repulsed to be touching it.

“God. Even the monsters are in on that depravity up here?”

“Depravity is a pastime of mine. But I am not so low as to debase myself by touching filth like yours.” So saying, the Count raised both hands in mock surrender. “I shall not waste my time or teeth on you.”

“Fine. Fine, you say that and I can believe you. Once you’re out the door.”

The door, still open.

The door, which Anthony had not dared to look at for fear of taking eyes off the Count.

The door, full of mist.

“Ah, but I cannot go yet. There is a show I have been so looking forward to. You mentioned the Grand Guignol. Such a promising establishment! I plan to see it in person some night. But for now, we must content ourselves with your meager scene.”

Anthony opened his mouth to ask something. Say something. Maybe he was just drawing breath. Whatever the reason, his mouth froze in a voiceless O of epiphany.

There was a hand on his shoulder. Cold.

It distracted him from the other, decorated with its simple gold band, locking around the man’s forearm; the one responsible for holding the blade.

Snap.

Anthony’s mouth dropped open wider, belting a screech that left Jonathan’s ears ringing. Then the man was torn away from the back of the chair and all the noise of him was pinned and shrilling on the floor. Laced over the ensuing sounds of his dismantling, both vocal and visceral, was a voice that threaded through the mind more than the ear:

He cut you. Twice he cut you.

“I’ll be fine, Mina.” Said because there was concern in the statement. There was. But, more pertinently, there was the accusation. The condemnation. The citing of the crime.

He cut you. He meant to kill you. He meant to unmake you out of reach forever.

Anthony made a new and piercing noise. The kind just an octave short of a dog whistle. Jonathan winced.

“And he failed to. It’s alright, Darling.”

“Hardly,” from the Count, now turning Anthony’s abandoned seat around to face the slaughter. “You are too soft as always, my friend. Even when it comes to a rightful culling. Or do you think they deserved to live after their crimes?”

“I think this was excessive.” Jonathan withheld a sigh as Dracula hooked the back of his chair, hoisting and turning it so that his back was no longer to Mina’s work. She seemed to have an innate understanding of what could be taken apart and to what degree, the better to leave Anthony still clinging miserably to a thread of life. “And I also think I’m ready to have these off.”

He flexed his hands and feet as far as they could go against the ropes.

“Have what off?” Dracula asked as he swiped a finger into the shoulder wound. A child stealing cake icing. He clicked his tongue. “This would happen just after a feeding. All this guilt-free cuisine and your knights-errant are too full to enjoy the banquet. A pity. Have you eaten?”

“If I had my hands free, I could get my—,” Jonathan pursed his lips as Dracula brandished a bouquet of the retrieved dried pork. Deciding against waiting for the mesmer to prod him into it, he opened his mouth a crack. Bit. Chewed.

“Do you suppose the Grand Guignol has concessions? Any actual blood used in place of the stage swill?”

Jonathan swallowed. A nauseous feat, considering the piece Mina removed from Anthony in the same moment.

“I doubt any director is so dedicated, Sir.” Anthony was growing quieter now. There wasn’t enough air in him. Jonathan could tell by the glimpse of lung through his ribs. “Does Quincey know about this?”

No. It was blocked from him. He believes we are out on business.

Crunch. Twist. Rip.

Anthony went silent and still at last. Dracula afforded this a light round of applause.

“Not wholly a lie, you will grant. Though I suspect the boy thinks it was code for a more,” the Count made a face caught between glee and disdain, “intimate excursion. Which should be an easy enough ward against any prying you fear from him. You may have made a sickening romantic of the boy, but there is never a child alive or undead who wishes to know what his parents get up to out of his sight.” The Count craned his head, squinting at what was left of Anthony. “Did you come across it?”

That depends. Where’s mine?

Mina stood with the dragon clasp in one red hand and her other held out and open. Dracula idled a moment or three longer than was necessary before the stolen wedding band was produced. Clasp and ring were thrown rather than exchanged. Jonathan had each reattached to him. Though the Count spared a curse in three different languages at finding the coat not only mangled at the shoulder, but torn where the clasp had been ripped away.

“As if they could not understand the mechanics of a brooch? You should have pinned this in his eye.”

You should have fed him the stake. Look at this.

Mina touched the nick on Jonathan’s throat.

I know you count my wound as a blessing, but I would think you’d not risk losing his voice.

“I had to stall while you cleared up the leftovers outside. I may as well have left you with the boy.”

And lost your show and your diversion.

“You—,”

“I cannot feel my feet anymore,” Jonathan announced. “And I would like to stitch and plaster myself before we head out. Whatever Quincey may think we’re up to, it will be easier to lie without me looking like I just left,” he gestured as best he could at the room, “this.”

A minor miracle came and went as there was no suggestion made that they simply lay a new bite apiece over the wounds. The ropes were cut, what was filched was returned to its owner, give or take a little scavenging of their own. Jacob and the others were left with their tokens of the Son. Outside, the wolves went on enjoying the meal Mina had left for them. Up until a titanic thunderbolt struck the cabin and sent them scrambling. The building went up like a great bonfire.

“I know, my friend, you were clearly looking forward to digging more graves. But you must admit my method is quicker and far more thorough in erasing evidence.” The nettling cadence waned. “I suggest you avoid wandering away from the castle for some time. Considering your state.”

Not while dressed in this, at the very least. It’s clear this insignia draws as much ire as it deters.

“A fluke,” the Count huffed. “Such degenerates as those are rare. The chattel know better. Besides, the folly was in drawing attention by playing Good Samaritan to the wrong victim and her maudlin pleading. Something else to keep in mind.” Jonathan tried and failed to keep his head down as the hook landed in his mind and turned his eyes up. Dead blue against burning red. “At least for as long you insist on holding to your last few years as…this.”

Jonathan bit into his last strip of the dried pork. Loudly.

“Five years. That’s all.”

“Four and a half.”

“Four and a half I mean to savor. In-between being waylaid.” The careful placidity fractured as his free hand drifted up to the back of his skull. Still aching. “I think I shall finish off the Golden Mediasch tonight.” His hand was plucked away by Mina’s own, her chilled fingers seeking out the tender place under his hair. Her fingertips felt the scabbing patch.

I should have skinned him.

“You are welcome to stroll through the fire and do so,” the Count hummed. But his smile stopped short of his eyes and his own hand swept Mina’s away to thumb at the ache. “The Mediasch is barely more than fruit juice. You will want something stronger.”

Jonathan didn’t argue. Nor did he protest when the horses of his ex-hosts were commandeered for the return to the castle. Quincey thrilled at the sight of them almost as if they had arrived riding wolves. Was this the business they went on? Tunet and Pretekár were quite new—and solid obsidian as the horses before had been—but it was good to see them gain more company. And they’d picked piebald this time!

“They’re beautiful. Do they have names yet?”

“Thought we’d leave that to you,” Jonathan managed lightly enough. Or nearly so. Quincey frowned at him, nose pricking at the smell of dried blood.

“Papa, are you alright? You—,” his eyes landed on the coat, “—what happened?”

“Just a quick lesson from our new friends about minding their moods. I was tossed and landed in a less than opportune pile of rocks.”

Quincey scowled at that and scrutinized the stallions.

“Which one? I’m not riding him. Or petting him, even.” He considered. “At least for a month.”

“Seems a cruelty too far. I suppose I just won’t reveal the guilty party.”

“And what if I get on the wrong horse and I get tossed and land on a rock somewhere? What then?”

“Then you will get back up and be perfectly alright. Or am I misremembering the night you fell asleep on the side of the north turret and fell through half a tree on your way down?”

“Yes, well. They were fairly soft branches.” Quincey fought and lost the attempt to keep his smile up. “Papa?”

“Yes?”

“The horses weren’t the actual business, were they? You could have gotten them yourself.”

“That’s true. The horses were only picked up afterward. Quite a bargain, not counting the lumps.”

“Then what happened?”

Jonathan looked at his son. His Sweetheart, though the boy had finally started to bud into that stage that visits all adolescents, demanding a shedding of childhood names. There was a dusting of stubble barely fringing his jaw and his mother’s own whorls outgrowing the edges of his last haircut. But the eyes were still a child’s. Bright and molten as the sun at dusk.

“…There was some trouble two days ago. I aided a girl trying to leave behind some people who hurt others. Who hurt her. They had some less than scrupulous plans for the future and had already bypassed local authorities to get where they were by the time I crossed them. So I reached out for some assistance.” And, because he felt the air prickling with observation, “Your Father was very keen to educate them on the difference between the laws of other lands versus the Law of his land. And your Mum has always been of a rescuer’s bent as a rule. So.”

“So Mum and Father caught them? Together?” The sunset eyes gleamed at the prospect.

“They did,” Jonathan nodded.

“Were they bandits?”

“Of a sort. But they won’t hurt anyone now.” Jonathan watched from the corner of his eye how the boy, so near to a young man, glowed over the notion of being a son to heroes.

He got to the tower before he felt his eyes begin to sting as sharply as his head.

#I'm beginning to think I simply cannot go more than 0.5 days without making a novella #oops #anyway enjoy the One and Only scenario in which Dracula and Mina would willingly work together on literally anything:#Their Damsel/Jonathan is in peril. Time to do some mauling about that.#anyway #jonathan harker #mina harker #dracula #dracula bad ending #blood of my blood #my writing

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makeitmingi · 9 months

Text

Cause Baby You’re My Muse [Chapter 15]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.3K

You assumed Eden must have told the boys that you were working from your home studio temporarily. Of course, only Wooyoung knew the truth as to why you had to work from home.

“Wooyoung, are you sure it’s okay for you to be here so much?” You asked as you prepared lunch for the three of you.

“Yeah. Unless you don’t want me to come...?” He tilted his head.

“Of course not. You being here with Haneul has been a great help. And I think she likes you too.” You smiled softly. Another thing is now Wooyoung knows what you look like without a mask. So you haven’t had to wear a mask when he comes over to visit.

“It’s no big deal for me because I love kids. And I like her too. She’s amazing.” Wooyoung giggled. You felt your heart swell with pride hearing him talking about how great Haneul was.

“Oppa! Come!” Haneul called.

“Coming, my princess~” Wooyoung replied, prancing away to the child. Just like you, Haneul got Wooyoung wrapped around her finger.

“I’m gonna leave this to boil. I’ll be right back.” You told Wooyoung, going into your studio. You had a call with Hongjoong and Eden, just an update call about the progress of work.

“Is unnie playing games?” Haneul turned to Wooyoung after seeing you disappear into the work room.

“No, princess. She’s not playing games, she’s working.” Wooyoung explained, gently moving Haneul to sit on his lap to play instead.

“She’s always busy.” Haneul pouted.

“Your unnie works really hard. Do you know how cool she is? She makes music for people. Like me. Your unnie makes the music then I sing and dance.” Wooyoung tried his best to explain your job and his job to the kid.

“Unnie is cool?” Haneul tilted her head. To her, you have always just been the older sister that took care of her. She was too young to understand the meaning and extravagance of your jobs, producing music and meeting famous idols. But you liked that, you liked how she treated you normally. You were just her older sister, nothing more, nothing less.

“Super cool. She’s way cooler than me.” Wooyoung gave a thumbs up. Hanuel’s eyes lit up in amazement, making Wooyoung laugh and pinch her cheek while cooing.

Wooyoung decided to let Haneul watch the ‘Wave’ music video, considering it was the most ‘light hearted’ music video and wouldn’t scare her.

“Ooh, red! Like Ariel!” Haneul pointed excitedly at Hongjoong’s red hair, comparing her to the famous mermaid. Wooyoung burst out laughing at how cute she was, nearly falling to his knees for her.

“See? That’s my best friend. His name is San.” Wooyoung paused and pointed to the blonde.

“Who is that?” Wooyoung paused the video again.

“Oppa! Wooyoung oppa!” Haneul pointed the real version next to her.

“That’s right! You’re so smart.” He patted her head while complimenting her. They continued to watch the video together, Haneul excitedly pointing at Wooyoung every time he appeared on the screen.

“What’s so funny?” You came out after the call, hearing Haneul’s shrieking laughter. You turned to see the video of Ateez on the television.

“Lunch is ready.” You announced to the two. While you scooped the food and put the dishes on the coffee table, Wooyoung brought Haneul to wash her hands. You had a second, staring at the paused performance video of the entire group on the screen.

“Everything okay?” Wooyoung asked, noticing you were lost in your thoughts. You nodded, going to scoop the rice. You placed Haneul’s rice and soup together in the dish, cutting up the other food for her to eat.

“Here you go, baby.” You placed the kids plate in front of her. She picked up the spoon excitedly.

“What do we say?” You stopped her before digging in.

“Thank you for the food.” She grinned.

“Good girl.” You stroked her head. With Haneul being around you more, you took the oppotunity to try and guide her through things. Wooyoung sat on the other side of Haneul, digging into the food.

“Mmm, it’s good.” He said, taking a sip of the soup.

“Thanks. There’s not much in the refridgerator, I’ll have to order groceries soon.” You noted. Haneul has only been with you for a little over a week and yet you found yourself having to adjust to a new schedule like ordering more groceries, having to cook more instead of ordering take out and remembering there was someone who you needed to care for.

“Do you miss the others?” Wooyoung asked. He knew that look you had earlier when looking at the screen.

“I guess I’m used to seeing them everyday. Then now, I’m not seeing them at all. Except you, of course.” You chuckled. Even if you didn’t directly answer his question, Wooyoung knew your answer.

“You can still meet them. I’ll watch Haneul for a bit.” Wooyoung said.

“It’s okay. It’s not like we’re forbidden to see each other. Besides, I should be spending more time with Haneul now that she’s here.” You stroked Haneul’s head.

“Yeah, take this time to relax too, Indigo. Just have fun with Haneul and rest.” Wooyoung advised.

After lunch, Wooyoung had a schedule to go for so he left. You didn’t want to leave Haneul alone to work so you decided to both get dressed and go to the grocery store. It was more fun than to get them delivered.

“Ready?” You asked. Haneul nodded her head, slipping her hand into yours. The bus ride to the grocery store wasn’t too long. Haneul was constantly amazed by the scenary and everything in the big city, no matter how many times she came to stay with you.

“Up you go.” Upon arriving, you carried her so she could sit in the cart. It was good that she could rest and you wouldn’t have to constantly watch her.

“Eomuk!” She pointed excitedly.

“Want eomuk?” You asked. She nodded her head vigorously. You usually made stir fried fishcakes with a sweet soy sauce for her to eat with rice, it’s the only time you see her eat two bowls of rice.

“Alright, let’s get some eomuk.” You took some bags off the shelf and placed it into the cart.

“Yoghurt... Strawberry or peach?” You asked, holding up the two.

“I like both!” She grinned.

“We’ll get both.” You put them into the cart. Haneul was a little upset when she came back to your house and all her yoghurt was gone. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought them all to song camp for Hongjoong to finish.

When you were out with Haneul, you never wore your mask. No one would recognise you anyway. Plus, Haneul liked it when you didn’t wear your mask.

“Cereal, biscuits, fruits, meat...” You checked your list, looking back to the cart to make sure you what you needed.

“Last stop, vegetables.” You went to the vegetable section to get what looked good. After that, you paid for everything and took a cab home with Haneul. You didn’t want to struggle with carrying the groceries and taking public transport with her so taking a cab was easier. You loaded a game for Haneul to play on your phone, just so you could put the groceries away.

Hongjoong was sitting by the pantry tables, eating his food when his phone rang. He swallowed his food before picking up the call.

“Hello? Indigo?” Hongjoong wasn’t expecting a call from you, considering how he had a conference call with you and Edenary this morning regarding the projects. There was no noise on the other side expect some rustling.

“Hello...?” Hongjoong was going to hang up, thinking you may have accidentally butt-dialed him.

“...Hi?”

“Huh? Who is this? Indigo, if this is some sort of joke or prank call. You’re not very funny...” The voice that Hongjoong heard was definitely not yours. If you were doing an impersonation, it was rather convincing.

“Haneul.”

“Hanuel?” He frowned in confusion. Pulling the phone away from his ear, he double checked that the caller ID was yours. Wooyoung walked into the pantry, fresh out of his fitness training.

“What’s wrong, hyung? Who are you talking to?” Wooyoung asked when he noticed the captain’s weird expression.

“Not sure. Some kid named Haneul is using Indigo’s phone and called me. Either that or Indigo mimics a child’s voice very well.” Hongjoong explained. At his words, Wooyoung visibly stiffened. He tried to hide his expression of shock but it was too late.

“Yah. Jung Wooyoung, what are you hiding?” Hongjoong glared at the younger male. Wooyoung gulped, opening his mouth to deny knowing anything but he forgot Haneul was still on the line.

“Wooyoung oppa?!”

“Yah! Haneul ah, what are you doing?! Who are you talking to?!” Your voice was heard on the other line and just like that, the call was cut.

“Explain.” Hongjoong frowned. Wooyoung winced, if only Haneul didn’t call out to him. He gulped, unsure of what he was supposed to tell Hongjoong. It wasn’t his story to tell.

“Hang on.” Wooyoung ran away, despite Hongjoong yelling out his name. He took his phone out to call you.

“Ouh, Wooyoung.”

“How are you calm?! Haneul just called Hongjoong and she recognised me, even called out my name! Now Hongjoong hyung is demanding an explanation and I don’t know what to tell him. He looks so scary. I think he’s going to come hunt me down until I give him some sort of excuse as to why I know the child that called him.” Wooyoung rambled.

“It’s fine, Wooyoung. Calm down. Anyway, it’s my fault for letting Haneul use my phone and not watching her properly. It’s not like Haneul is in witness protection. You can tell him.”

“Are you sure?” Wooyoung paced up and down. He had no idea why he was more stressed about this than you.

“Yeah. Maybe it’s better that he knows so he will understand why I am not in the studio and won’t be suspicious of you when you leave the dorm.”

“Oh, that’s true... Okay, I’ll tell him about Haneul but I won’t tell him that I’ve seen you without your mask. I think that’s irrelevant information and it’s my special secret with you.” Wooyoung declared, making you laugh.

“Sure, Wooyoung. Thank you. It might be easier for me to invite him over to work on music. And he can meet Haneul, I’m sure she will be very intrigued by his hair.”

“No way! Haneul is mine. She can only look at me as her oppa.” Wooyoung scoffed.

“Alright, alright. Geez, I’m starting to think I’m not the most protective and possessive over her anymore.”

After you hung up, Wooyoung emerged from his hiding spot (which was just the accessibility bathroom with the door locked) and went to find Hongjoong. But before Hongjoong could yell at Wooyoung, the younger covered the older’s mouth with his hand and dragged him to his studio.

“What’s wrong with you?” Hongjoong crossed his arms with a frown, watching Wooyoung look around the corridor to make sure there was no one before closing the door and locking it.

“I’ll explain to you who Haneul is. But it is a secret and you cannot tell the others. I’ve already asked for permission from Indigo.” Wooyoung said.

“O...kay?” Hongjoong tilted his head.

The two sat down and Wooyoung told Hongjoong everything, even having to suddenly go get Haneul out of nowhere while the rest were making their way back from song camp. And that being the reason he knew about Haneul.

“So she’s been supporting Haneul this whole time? On her own?” Hongjoong asked. Wooyoung nodded in confirmation.

“But she’s still working a lot so I go over to help her with Haneul some times. Especially when she has calls and doesn’t want to leave Haneul on her own, unattended.” Wooyoung explained.

“That’s where you have been disappearing to?”

“Yeah, when we don’t have schedules, I just drop by. Been doing it since the end of song camp.” Wooyoung said.

“Indigo should have just told us. She could take time off work and be with Haneul rather than have to juggle both work and caring for the child full time.” Hongjoong shook his head.

“That’s the thing. You know how dedicated she is to her work. She won’t take any breaks or stop working. And Indigo is very protective of Haneul, more than she is of her own identity. Like she doesn’t want too many people to know about her or meet her. There might be an underlying reason why but I don’t know it to that extent.” Wooyoung said.

“She must be special to Indigo then.” Hongjoong stated and Wooyoung nodded, noticing how you just look at Haneul with so much love and adoration.

“I’ll respect her wishes. I won’t say anything to the others but now that I know the actualy reason why she’s working from home, I’m glad everything is actually okay.” Hongjoong let out a sigh of relief.

“She said it would be easier if you knew since you might need to go to her home studio to work.” Wooyoung conveyed.

“I guess so. We were trying to avoid that so as to not intrude on her privacy and personal space. But if you say so, I’ll drop her a text later.” Hongjoong said.

“Haneul... Same name as San’s sister.” Hongjoong chuckled.

“Right? You will see it when you meet her... But all I can say is, you can tell that the kid was raised by Indigo. She’s so... smart and independent. Yet, all you want to do is take care of her.” Wooyoung laughed.

“She’s adorable. An amazing kid.” He continued to gush over Haneul. Wooyoung was always a fan of kids but Hongjoong has never seen him this head over heels before.

While you didn’t scold Haneul for calling Hongjoong, you did tell her how it was wrong to speak to strangers and that she wasn’t allowed to leave the game to do other things on your phone. You conveyed it as keeping her safe, which Haneul understood and apologised for.

“Sleep well.” You whispered as Haneul napped. She must have been tired since she fell asleep while playing so you carried her to the room.

“Alright.” You took the opportunity to clean up. You cleared the toys, cleaned the floors and did the laundry. To clean the floors, you did Seonghwa’s four step method; sticky roller, vacuum, mop and sticky roller again.

After that was done, you sat down to do some work. You made sure you didn’t fully cover both ears with your headphones to be able to hear if Haneul needed you.

“This needs a re-recording of the guide...” You typed out on your notes.

‘I think I’ll need to re-record the guide for draft 27B before submitting it. There were some revisions made to the chorus, as per our conversation yesterday. - Indigo’

‘Sure. I’ll take note of it and ask Jongho to come in. - Eden’

‘I added the extra percussions to draft 29A like you asked for. Let me know if you need any edits. - Peperoni’

‘Draft 42′s chorus is done and ready for vetting before the guide recording can be done. - Oliv’

‘I’m still working on the arrangement for the chorus for draft 91. I’ll need more time because I need to work with Seonghwa on his next cover release first, which is the priority now. - Maddox’

This is usually how you communicated with each other, everyone in a group chat, updating on the status of their works. You all never needed to address each other, you just knew what information was relevant to you. With so many projects that were going on simultaneously, this was the best for Eden to keep track of everyone.

‘LAKOV sent back the raw piano for Hongjoong’s upcoming cover song. I’ll need to overlay it with Hongjoong before I can start the recording. - Jangmoon’

‘I just saw the track you sent me from song camp. I will do the MIDI mixing by the end of this week and send it back to you. - LEEZ’

‘Thanks everyone for accommodating to me working from home. - Indigo’

‘No need to thank. We hope you’re resting well, family comes first, work can be done later. - Eden’

With how hard everyone was working and the boys being excited over the tracks you have been working on together, there was no way you could take time off. You just had to manage your time between Haneul and work.

“Unnie?” You heard Haneul and turned around. She stood there, holding her stuffed rabbit by the foot.

“Hey, baby.” You rolled over to her. While she yawned, you picked her up and sat her in your lap. Still half asleep, she leaned her head on your chest. You wheeled yourself back to the desk and continued to do the last bit of your work. Haneul didn’t mind, content with just sitting on your lap.

*Kim Hongjoong is requesting a video call*

“Oh, Hongjoong.” You answered the call, wearing your mask and propping the phone against the bottom corner of your computer. Hongjoong’s face came to view. Although, he leaned in when he noticed Haneul.

“Is that her? Hello~” Hongjoong gave a friendly wave and smile. Haneul was disinterested, not moving to greet whoever was talking.

“Yes, I’m assuming Wooyoung told you already... This is Haneul. Sorry, she just woke up from a nap.” You apologised.

“No worries, we’re all like that after a nap.” He laughed.

“You work too hard, Indigo. You should be resting more, I’m sure you’re using whatever time Haneul is sleeping to work in the studio right? Tch, I know you too well.”

“If you just called me to nag at me, I’m hanging up.” You threatened, eyes on your computer screen instead of him.

“Okay, fine. I actually called because Wooyoung said you’re fine with me coming to work with you in your home studio. So I just wanted to check what your schedule is like. I am free tomorrow night... My schedule ends at 5pm. If night time is not good, we can just reschedule or we can work separately and discuss it online like we have been doing.”

“No, night time is actually good. I usually try to get Haneul to bed by 9 ish. I’ll prepare your share of dinner then.” You said. Haneul started whining and squirming to get off your lap.

“What do you need?” You asked her.

“Yoghurt...” She mumbled.

“Okay, hang on.” You told Hongjoong, holding her hand to take her to the kitchen. Haneul chose one of the strawberry yoghurt tubes to eat. She sat on the ground next to you, enjoying the sweet snack.

“Now, I want some yoghurt too.” Hongjoong mumbled. You watched him take the phone to the company fridge.

“You’re a 5 year old, Kim Hongjoong.” You scoffed, looking at him rummage through the fridge for a yoghurt cup. He found one with ‘Park Seonghwa’ on it.

“I’m sure Seonghwa won’t mind. I’ll just buy him another one to replace it.” Hongjoong shrugged as he tossed the label aside with no care in the world. You clicked your tongue, shaking your head at him.

“That’s very bad behaviour, Hongjoong. I’m telling Seonghwa right now.” You screenshotted Hongjoong eating the yoghurt before opening the messaging app to send Seonghwa the picture, telling him that the yoghurt Hongjoong was eating in the picture was his.

“YAH! KIM HONGJOONG!” You heard Seonghwa.

“Wow, I didn’t think he was actually still at the company building.” You laughed in amazement while Hongjoong starting running.

“Why would you do that?! ...curse you!” Hongjoong said to you as he ran. He would have actually cursed at you but he remembered that Haneul was within earshot and you definitely wouldn’t want her to hear that.

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